◆ * “If you wanna start some shit, we can start some shit.” He’d already shoved the offending party against the nearest wall roughly, but he loosened his grip just enough to do it again, one arm keeping the man a head taller than him pinned in a flex that was purely intimidation tactics-- if Gokudera hadn’t had the element of surprise and a mean fuckin look on his face, it never would have worked. “Come on, you gonna wimp out now? These heavy ass rings of mine ain’t to keep my fingers pretty.”
To be fair, the other guy had started it, even if Gokudera’s whole ensemble usually had something to do with it. He couldn’t help that he screamed punk ass delinquent, nor did he really want to stop, especially since the people who caused problems were usually small fry bullshit like this dude. He’d been ready to shift to dynamite to really make his point clear (nothing to make a man piss himself like a stick of dynamite between his teeth) when his attention was pulled away by the sound of someone moving nearby-- just a glance for safety, but in that glance his heart stopped.
Holy shit. Fucking finally.
“...Cavalry’s here. You’re lucky, shitbag, if I see your face again I’m gonna fuck it up so bad you’ll forget what you looked like.” His tough guy act could seem over the top to some people, but frankly, the actual lifetime of mafia experience didn’t fuckin hurt, and it did the trick just right; when he let go of the troublemaker, he spat a curse and made a break for it. Gokudera watched him leave for a few seconds just to be safe, then finally turned to the source of his disruption-- a friendly fucking face.
“Holy shit, man, talk about a sight for sore eyes.” He clapped a hand on Yamamoto’s shoulder in greeting (make sure he was real) and grinned. “The fuck took you so long? I’ve been living it up this whole time without any nagging idiocy in my ear.”
@rainwill
