FIC: KHR! - Gear Jammer
Title: Gear Jammer
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairing: 185980 or Hibari/Gokudera/Yamamoto, all TYL (Random sidenote: Have you ever tried putting this into the colour selector in Photoshop? It is a lot less exciting than I thought.)
Genre: PWP
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~ 4,370
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the cars or the companies mentioned herein. No money made. I just borrowed them because they're pretty - the boys and the cars.
Beta: Prettied up by kentucka. Much love *smooches*
Summary: Yamamoto and Gokudera argue over which of their cars is better and decide to have a race to settle things once and for all. (Un)Fortunately, Hibari is there to settle matters for them.
Warnings: Threesome of doom. Excessive swearing. Orgasm denial. Sex on a car. Almost long enough to develop a plot but it never got there.
A/N: Basically, this is first car porn and then morphs into car porn - please note the difference. Very important. As this is my first time writing a threesome I must warn you that there might be some fail in this regard. But my lovely Beta said there were no out of place limbs so I think we're good on the anatomical level. Also, for clarification concerning the automotive protagonists please see at the end of the story for a little show & tell.
On a more personal note: I hereby admit that 8059 is my OTP. Strangely, up to this point I have never written a single thing about them. Why I had to throw in Hibari when I finally did I do not know - but it seemed like a good idea at the time. And besides, I love it when Hibari pwns people. Which reminds me that I should probably apologise to Gokudera.
---
Gear Jammer
It was stupid and ridiculous and completely immature. Gokudera was aware of that and he hated Yamamoto for making him do such a thing. But he had a point to prove.
Gokudera let the engine of the F430 roar up and bestowed his friend with a smile that varied somewhere between determination and pity.
"You know that I will whack your ass with this, right?" he just wanted to clarify that Yamamoto really, absolutely and positively desired to lose to Gokudera - because this much was certain. This was a Ferrari, for Christ's sake. The only thing going faster was light and even that Gokudera wasn't too sure about.
Yamamoto gave him a cheery smile - oblivious to his doom, as usual, "It's 17 kilometres to the lookout. Let's just see what happens, alright?"
Gokudera rolled his eyes and snorted, "17 kilometres means you'll have plenty of time to think about why you lost. Although, that might be due to you driving a freaking matchbox car."
"It's a Mitsubishi, Gokudera," the Rain Guardian sounded slightly offended.
"It's an abomination," Gokudera concluded after studying the exterior of the insult to La Scuderia. It was edgy and tiny and short and blue and had one of those goddamned ugly rear spoilers. The silvery insignia read 'Lancer Evolution X', which would have been rather fitting for the Tenth if this whole thing hadn't been an eyesore and made Gokudera want to run it over. Clearly, the thing had no style and no chance.
It was time Yamamoto conceded to this fact.
---
Two hours earlier.
"Is."
"Is not."
"It is."
"You don't know that."
"I do," Gokudera slammed the car keys sporting the proud logo of the Ferrari company onto the table, "this is Italian craftsmanship, idiot. It rules the Formula 1 like the Tenth rules the underworld. Of course it's faster than a damned Mitsu-whatever."
"Mitsubishi," Yamamoto corrected calmly, "and still. How do you know that? You've never seen one of those Mitsubishis race, have you?"
"I don't need to," the Storm Guardian crossed his arms defiantly, "simple facts are all I need."
He started ticking off imaginary bullet points by his fingers, "How do you intend to beat over 480 horsepower, a top speed of just over 315 kilometres per hour and an acceleration of only 4 seconds from 0 to 100?"
Yamamoto seemed to consider this, "I guess I can't."
"Ha!"
"But a car is only as good as its driver-"
"What? Are you insulting me, moron?" Gokudera was already half out of his chair.
"No! Geez, no," Yamamoto tried to save himself by looking dorky and laughing a lot - which enraged Gokudera even more, "what I meant to say was that you don't necessarily have to be fast to win."
Gokudera settled back down and growled, "The only way you could beat me in a Ferrari is by flying, idiot."
---
Gokudera eyed the idyllic road laid out before them. A few kilometres on gravel backroads from the estate to the highway and after that it was going to be barely more than a relaxing drive towards the sunset. By then the only thing to worry about would be coming up with an appropriately humiliating prize to demand from Yamamoto. Having him clean the kitchen at the base sounded good - with a tooth brush.
He smirked lazily when the engine purred behind his back like Uri waiting to go in for the kill. He'd allowed Yamamoto to pick the route. He'd felt generous - what with Yamamoto's impending doom and all. Plus, the idiot had no idea that there was a brandnew bypass around some of the tiny villages in this area. It was a bit longer than the old scenic route through the towns, but at an average speed of roughly 300 km/h the scenery was only a by-product anyway. Which made this not exactly lying but... purposely omitting information that wouldn't have any impact on the outcome of this race anyway.
Next to his fiery-red beauty the blue deformity roared to life with a satisfyingly ugly stutter. How Yamamoto could still grin and give him the thumbs-up was beyond Gokudera.
They didn't have anyone to do a countdown so Gokudera had placed two small bombs by the side of the road with a timer. It should set them off in three... two... one...
Two sets of spinning tyres spat gravel. Two engines roared like marvellous beasts until dirt obscured the view for a moment and then the only thing left were skidmarks and a bunch of disgruntled birds.
---
"One scratch, you bastard, and I will blast your ass off this fuckin' road!" Gokudera yelled as Yamamoto's car swayed dangerously close to him from the right. Not that Yamamoto would be able to hear over the rush of the wind and the sound of the engines but yelling always made Gokudera feel better.
Steering the Ferrari over the bumpy gravel was hard enough as it was, even without Yamamoto practically poking his head in through the passenger window. The rear of the red sportscar was heavy and didn't exactly like narrow turns with nothing but a few tiny rocks to provide grip. He rooted up a couple of innocent bushes as he tried to get past the Rain Guardian.
Gokudera accelerated on a relatively even strip of road and managed to forge ahead. Only a few hundred metres until they were on the highway, and from then on out the little blue pest crawling up his arse in the rearview mirror was going to be nothing more than a minuscule spot shrinking into the distance.
The scenery was a blur of gold, green and brown. He noted with a considerable amount of reluctance that Yamamoto had much less trouble keeping his blue constructional accident on the road. But that wouldn't be a problem for long.
He could already see the highway - beautiful, long and straight and begging for him to breach the sonic barrier with this baby.
The road parted and Gokudera let the Ferrari drift off onto the driveway. Behind him was a big empty space.
"What the hell?" he squinted into the mirror and waited for the blue Mistubishi to skitter into view but there was nothing. He couldn't have gained such a massive headstart already, could he?
The bloody idiot had to have taken the old road through the villages.
"Stupid baseball nut," Gokudera snorted and concentrated on passing by one, two, three, half a dozen cars at once. He supposed Yamamoto knew fully well that he stood no chance against the Ferrari on a highway. He had to be trying to lessen his disgrace by not being forced to sniff Gokudera's exhaust fumes right away.
"Well," Gokudera smirked as he engaged the sixth gear and rendered the rest of the world more or less static, "have it your way then."
---
The Ferrari skidded around the first curve after the highway and Gokudera had serious trouble keeping it from crashing into the next set of trees. Mainly, because a blue Mistubishi suddenly came darting out of a small farm track and set itself right in front of Gokudera's nose.
"You fucking fffff-," he skipped the rest of the insult in favour of not letting the sportscar spin out of control.
He managed to get it back on track but now he had to deal with looking at the dirt-covered trunk of Yamamoto's blue cancer of the road. Gokudera hissed out a curse and tried to pass by on the right, only to find the familiar rear blocking his way. He swayed to the left - again, a cloud of dirt and glimpses of blue right in front of him. Right, left, it seemed the freaking idiot was everywhere.
Gokudera didn't have much time - the lookout was only two or three turns away. But fortunately, the road was spreading out a little, so there was his chance to show the damned idiot what real horse power meant.
They both drifted around a corner, Gokudera could already see the asphalt replacing the poor gravel road. He hit the accelerator, gaining on Yamamoto - just one more turn, one more, and he would be past the brat and ready to bask in his triumph.
If it wasn't for something black, sleek and impossibly fast rushing past them at that point, racing dangerously along the outer edge of the road.
Whatever it was, it was barely more than a dark streak against green background, obscured by swirling clouds of dust, rubble and stray leaves.
Apparently, Yamamoto was as stunned as he was because the Rain Guardian almost missed the next turn. The wheels of the Mitsubishi bumped over the roots by the side of the road. It made a lopsided turn and nearly crashed into Gokudera's side.
Gokudera spun the wheel around and hoped to God he wasn't going to end up a red smear at the bottom of the slope. He could feel one of the tyres losing grip, hanging over thin air while the Japanese car to his right still hadn't fully regained its balance. He put the pedal to the metal once more, caused the wheels to spin helplessly, digging deep into the ground.
Out of the corner of his eye he registered Yamamoto putting his abomination back on track and speeding up. Damn! And his rear was still hanging over the edge of the road like a fat cow's.
"Damn you," Gokudera spat through gritted teeth while making the engine howl, "I won't let you win."
The back wheels finally re-connected with the ground and as soon as he felt the reassuring smoothness of asphalt beneath him, Gokudera hit the gas and practically sent the Ferrari flying around the last bend.
---
Alright, it was a close call. And any other day they would have needed a photo finish camera to determine who let their car slide to a halt on the parking lot first but unfortunately, they didn't have one of those.
Instead they had Hibari Kyouya - who was leaning against a jet-black menace of a car and looking extremely bored. He frowned when the clouds of dirt settled around the new arrivals and started brushing off his suit.
"What the everloving fuck was that supposed to be, Kyouya?" Gokudera was fuming when he scrambled out of the car, stalking up to his fellow guardian. The lack of other high-speed sportscars in this area left only one conclusion - the cause for their would-be crash earlier was standing right before them. And it was British of all things.
"Whenever have I given you permission to address me like this?" Hibari asked, voice laced with boredom - and a warning sprinkled on top.
Gokudera chose to ignore it. He was far too furious to deal with minor problems such as names. In fact, he could think of a great deal of names to call Hibari right now - none of which were going to improve the situation.
"Did you lose your mind, or what?" he hissed as he stepped into Hibari's personal space, "You could have killed us with that stunt back there."
Hibari gave him a thin smile, "And still, you're here."
That was when Gokudera learned that Bentley produced cars with very damned sturdy doors that didn't particularly agree with his shin bones. Or his forehead, for that matter.
---
"... a bit harsh, don't you think?" Gokudera heard Yamamoto say.
"I am not on first-name terms with you herbivores."
Hibari. That asshole. Gokudera was going to strangle the son of a b-
Well, maybe he was going to do it after his head stopped pounding like mad. Being on first-name basis with a driver's door wasn't too pleasant either - even if it was such a finely shaped specimen as a Bentley's. Wherever Hibari had managed to get a freaking Bentley from in this area was a mystery to him, anyway.
"I'll fucking blast you to hell, Kyouya," Gokudera groaned as he scrambled up from the backseat of the black luxury car. No doubt, Yamamoto had insisted on putting him there. Knowing Kyouya, he probably would have let Gokudera rot on the stony ground.
"Would that be before or after I bite you to death?" Gokudera caught the slightest glimpse of polished metal.
"Stop it, you two," Yamamoto bent down to peer inside the Bentley, "you feeling better?"
"I just cracked my skull on a fucking car," Gokudera grumbled, massaging his forehead, "I feel peachy."
"You think you can drive back to town yourself?"
Gokudera gave his friend a scolding glance, "If I can manage to break that fucker's neck, I think I'll manage a ten-minute drive home, yes."
He offered his nemesis with the towering tonfas a daring grin.
He got one in return - only this one was bordering on scary, "Well, if that's so I'm sure you'll be able to hand me my prize."
"Your what?" Gokudera gaped at the Cloud Guardian. He did look rather impressive with the sun setting to his left and the black taylored suit, not to mention the dangerous glint of cold steel along his arms.
"My prize," Hibari stated matter-of-factly, "I won."
"You what?" Apparently, Gokudera was missing an enormous part of his usual vocabulary because that was all he could say as he kept staring at the black-haired man.
"Well," Yamamoto butted in with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck, "he did get here first..."
Gokudera snapped his attention back to Yamamoto, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound. How come Hibari had this nasty tendency to make Gokudera look dumbfounded?
"You... you-," Gokudera was probably red as a tomato when he found his ability to speak again, "you weren't even part of the race!"
"Makes it even more humiliating for you," Hibari shrugged as if explaining to a stupid child why 2+2 equalled 4.
"You... you...," Gokudera knew he was seconds away from raging on in Italian - and that was usually also the point when he started blowing people's faces off. Yamamoto, the peacekeeper that he was, was trying to hold him back.
"Since you got in last I say it should be you," Hibari gave them a cold look.
"Asshole," Gokudera snarled, "you don't even know who got in last. It's impossible to say, so fuck the hell off."
It took him a moment or two to register the little word that seemed a bit out of place in Hibari's statement.
"Wait," Gokudera frowned, "me what?"
"You are incredibly thick for someone claiming to be smart," Hibari said but there was the tiniest of smiles on his face. It was very unsettling.
Gokudera disentangled himself from Yamamoto's involuntary embrace and looked from one fellow guardian to the other. Yamamoto was blushing - and grinning while studying the sunset a bit too intently for Gokudera's taste.
"You've got to be kidding me," Gokudera finally managed, pointing a warning finger at the both of them, "no. Forget it. Not a chance. Ever."
---
'Ever' was exactly ten minutes and a game of rock-paper-scissors later. As it was impossible to tell which one of them had arrived first they had settled matters like the grown-up men that they were.
Until that point he hadn't realised that he had a tell at rock-paper-scissors. But according to Yamamoto he supposedly tended to bite the inside of his cheek when he was about to go for 'rock'. Gokudera made a mental note never to play poker with Yamamoto.
At first, Gokudera thought they had clarified who was going to have to be on the bottom of the... pile - because he could hardly think of anything else to describe the image in his head. But he quickly found out that they had merely determined who got to get off last.
Which made Gokudera hate that bloody children's game more than anything else ever before.
Yamamoto was perched on the hood of the Bentley before him, pants somewhere around his ankles, legs parted and desperately longing for something, anything, to dig his nails into.
"Not one scratch, herbivore," Hibari growled over Gokudera's shoulder and goddammit could he feel each and every sound vibrating through his body. Gokudera moaned at the sensation, even more so as Hibari pushed in a little more vehemently the next time he moved. It caused Yamamoto to choke on his apologetic laugh.
Gokudera lapped up a thin trail of precome from Yamamoto's cock, making the Rain Guardian shiver and throw his head back with a frustrated groan. The former baseball player's hands were flexing against the smooth varnish of the car, leaving sweaty imprints. If Hibari made them wash the damned car afterwards, Gokudera swore to himself he was going to blow it up.
Frankly, he was somewhat oblivious to anything further into the future than five seconds. He swirled his tongue over Yamamoto's length and tried not to bite down in sheer exasperation. Hibari's grip around the base of his cock was slowly but steadily becoming the centre of a world of hatred.
He could sense the damned skylark smirking pleasantly while pounding into him and making him accidentally rake his teeth over Yamamoto's dick.
"Hey!" Yamamoto flinched, "Take it a bit slower, Hibari. You're making him-... Damn!"
Gokudera reckoned he meant to say 'bite' but they both suffered from sudden speech-impairement when Hibari's hand settled none too gently on the back of Gokudera's head and pushed him down.
It wasn't too forceful - at least the bloody Cloud Guardian wasn't trying to suffocate him - but it did wring a startled noise from him which had a rather interesting impact on Yamamoto's composure. The swordsman bucked his hips in an unsteady rhythm. His sweat-slicked forearms kept slipping on the glossy surface of the car.
Gokudera shook off Hibari's insistent hand and let Yamamoto's dick slide out of his mouth, eliciting a pitiful whine from the Rain Guardian, "This... this isn't gonna... w-work."
He really tried to say it in one go but Hibari's thrusts got in the way of his words. As did the tiny moans he couldn't quite hold back.
Behind him, Hibari gave an irritated sigh, "If you soil it I will have you clean it. And then bite you to death."
Gokudera moved to shoot the black-haired guardian an irate glance over his shoulder but he never got as far. With one push Hibari shoved Gokudera forward and half-way onto Yamamoto, who in turn landed with his shoulders against the windshield.
It didn't specifically help Gokudera but it sure worked a hell of a lot better without Yamamoto slip-sliding in his direction all the time. It also made the tip of Gokudera's cock brush against the cool metal of the hood every time Hibari's hips connected with his arse. It was driving him insane. But the grasp around his member was as secure as ever.
And the worst part was that with his mouth full again Gokudera couldn't even swear. Not if he didn't want Yamamoto to sing soprano. At least not willingly - he couldn't necessarily guarantee that he wasn't going to do anything rash in the next few minutes if they kept torturing him like this.
He had Yamamoto fucking his mouth in a slightly unbalanced manner and Hibari pushing into him from behind in a rhythm so precise and calculating that Gokudera was considering punching holes into the damned car just to do something to make the Cloud Guardian waver. He wanted to bite the bloody skylark, blast him to kingdom come, beg him, make him go faster, whatever the hell needed to be done to get this over with so Gokudera could finally find his own release.
Yamamoto wasn't helping either. Despite appearances, the stupid idiot had the restraint of a darned ox - he was writhing, biting his lip, moaning and leaving streaks of sweat on the black paint but he just wouldn't come already. He even had one of his hands buried in Gokudera's hair, tugging almost painfully. Compared to Yamamoto's grip Hibari's fingers scraping over his back and sides were bordering on pleasurable. Even if they left the occasional angry red mark.
Gokudera wished he had something sharp to key the thrice-damned car with in exchange.
As if Hibari had sensed his thoughts a particularly harsh thrust sent Gokudera a little too far up the hood and into Yamamoto's lap. The Rain Guardian bit down on his lower lip in surprise, staining it red before he opened his mouth in a soundless cry.
Gokudera barely had any time to steel himself, not to mention pull off before he could choke. He did the only reasonable thing he could think of while having his best friend's dick so far down his throat that he was going to live under the impression of feeling it for days to come - he swallowed. Or rather, he tried to.
He was marginally aware of Yamamoto's fist tightening in his hair, his motions stalling for a second and then warm, sticky liquid was filling Gokudera's mouth. The gag reflex was strong but somehow Gokudera wrestled it down and found he rather enjoyed the sounds coming from his usually so composed friend.
The heavy weight of Yamamoto's hand disappeared from his scalp as the swordsman tensed one more time and then lay spread-eagled before them on the hood of the car, eyes closed, breathing heavily and with a damned stupid grin on his face.
None of this solved Gokudera's problem of having an annoyingly skilled Cloud Guardian fuck him six ways from Sunday.
At least he got his mouth back for personal use. Naturally, in between pathetic little pleading noises and gasps he was spitting out colourful curses in barely recognisable Italian that would have made even the devil blush like a nun.
Obviously, he was making a pitiful enough impression because Yamamoto suddenly sat up and scooted towards him until they were face to face. His smile, in all its impossible warmth was such a stark contrast to Hibari's actions that it even stopped the string of swearwords tumbling off Gokudera's lips. The kindhearted idiot took Gokudera's all-too-willing arms and slid them around his middle with a small wink.
And then Yamamoto kissed him; fingers tangled in the mess of silvery hair, tongue slipping inside because Gokudera couldn't for the life of him keep his mouth shut.
Gokudera could taste the metallic tang of blood, could even feel the small cut where Yamamoto's teeth had worried his lip earlier. It was a bit too sloppy, a bit too urgent but he liked it. He even liked how Hibari was pressing him ever closer to the Rain Guardian.
Until Hibari made his demanding presence known again by releasing his hold on Gokudera's cock with a start.
Gokudera couldn't suppress a hearty curse, half-swallowed by Yamamoto's lips, at the sudden lack of pressure. It returned twofold.
If he hadn't looked down to confirm his suspicions he wouldn't have believed it. Hibari's and Yamamoto's fingers entwined around his dick, stroking in unison to get him off - the thought alone would have been enough to make him come right on the spot.
He let his head drop back onto Hibari's surprisingly convenient shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. Words escaped him at that point - even in his mother tongue - as he raked his nails over Yamamoto's back in pure delight. He didn't last long, couldn't, not even if he'd wanted to. The frustration these two bastards had inflicted upon him quickly turned into mind-blowing pleasure.
He gasped, riding out each and every of Hibari's thrusts, noting not even the change in pace as the Cloud Guardian was about to let go of his precious control. He felt Hibari's release filling him, the last and forceful push sending the skylark over the edge.
Gokudera's body seemed to decide that now was a good time to take care of his own needs. Behind him Hibari continued to deliver shallow thrust so that Gokudera had nothing more to do than concentrate on the flash of heat surging towards his cock.
Two sets of proficient fingers caught his seed as he came with no more than a ragged breath and the faint suggestion of the word 'fuck' on his lips.
---
When the tingling in his toes had stopped Gokudera found himself cradled in Yamamoto's arms, sitting in front of the massive hood of the Bentley. He was still a bit too dazed to realise that he was being treated like a goddamned child. But in a few minutes time he was sure to voice his protest.
Just... a few more minutes.
He watched Hibari dress himself, wondering lazily how the skylark achieved this look of utter imperturbability in the light of recent events.
"How do you do that?" he mumbled idly against Yamamoto's chest.
Hibari looked up from knotting his tie.
"You just screwed my brains out and you look like nothing happened," Gokudera gestured wearily, "even Yamamoto here at least has the decency to pretend to be exhausted."
"I am exhausted," Yamamoto laughed, the sound a comforting rumble against Gokudera's ear.
"Yeah, but you don't look like you've just had a shower, breakfast and two meetings."
"That's because I have a spare suit in the trunk", Hibari stated calmly and threw a towel at them that he had miraculously extracted from the vastness of the Bentley's interior.
"You've been planning this, haven't you?" Gokudera stared at the fuzzy cloth in his hands.
"If by planning you mean knowing that I was going to beat you, then yes."
Gokudera knew that this part of the conversation was going to make him very, very mad later on but he settled on tossing the towel back in Hibari's face for now.
"I hate you."
"I know."
"And I hate you too," Gokudera nudged the Rain Guardian and waved an unsteady finger under his nose, "and just for the record, I did not come in last."
None of them corrected him which was as good as a victory anyway.
~~~Fin~~~
Note: Forgive me for using the European measuring system up there but I figured since Gokudera is from Italy and he's talking about an Italian car he would rather stick to the measurements used where the car is manufactured. But if you think this seems odd, tell me and I'll see if I can find a way to convert it to whichever system makes more sense.
And now for the motorists among us:
Yamamoto's car: Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X (c) by Mitsubishi Motors Corporation
Gokudera's car: Ferrari F430 (c) by Ferrari S.p.A.
Hibari's car: Bentley Continental GT Speed (c) by Bentley Motors Ltd.
Slightly unrelated but: Has anybody else ever noticed that 'Lambo' is a popular nickname for Lamborghini? Just sayin'.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairing: 185980 or Hibari/Gokudera/Yamamoto, all TYL (Random sidenote: Have you ever tried putting this into the colour selector in Photoshop? It is a lot less exciting than I thought.)
Genre: PWP
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~ 4,370
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the cars or the companies mentioned herein. No money made. I just borrowed them because they're pretty - the boys and the cars.
Beta: Prettied up by kentucka. Much love *smooches*
Summary: Yamamoto and Gokudera argue over which of their cars is better and decide to have a race to settle things once and for all. (Un)Fortunately, Hibari is there to settle matters for them.
Warnings: Threesome of doom. Excessive swearing. Orgasm denial. Sex on a car. Almost long enough to develop a plot but it never got there.
A/N: Basically, this is first car porn and then morphs into car porn - please note the difference. Very important. As this is my first time writing a threesome I must warn you that there might be some fail in this regard. But my lovely Beta said there were no out of place limbs so I think we're good on the anatomical level. Also, for clarification concerning the automotive protagonists please see at the end of the story for a little show & tell.
On a more personal note: I hereby admit that 8059 is my OTP. Strangely, up to this point I have never written a single thing about them. Why I had to throw in Hibari when I finally did I do not know - but it seemed like a good idea at the time. And besides, I love it when Hibari pwns people. Which reminds me that I should probably apologise to Gokudera.
---
Gear Jammer
It was stupid and ridiculous and completely immature. Gokudera was aware of that and he hated Yamamoto for making him do such a thing. But he had a point to prove.
Gokudera let the engine of the F430 roar up and bestowed his friend with a smile that varied somewhere between determination and pity.
"You know that I will whack your ass with this, right?" he just wanted to clarify that Yamamoto really, absolutely and positively desired to lose to Gokudera - because this much was certain. This was a Ferrari, for Christ's sake. The only thing going faster was light and even that Gokudera wasn't too sure about.
Yamamoto gave him a cheery smile - oblivious to his doom, as usual, "It's 17 kilometres to the lookout. Let's just see what happens, alright?"
Gokudera rolled his eyes and snorted, "17 kilometres means you'll have plenty of time to think about why you lost. Although, that might be due to you driving a freaking matchbox car."
"It's a Mitsubishi, Gokudera," the Rain Guardian sounded slightly offended.
"It's an abomination," Gokudera concluded after studying the exterior of the insult to La Scuderia. It was edgy and tiny and short and blue and had one of those goddamned ugly rear spoilers. The silvery insignia read 'Lancer Evolution X', which would have been rather fitting for the Tenth if this whole thing hadn't been an eyesore and made Gokudera want to run it over. Clearly, the thing had no style and no chance.
It was time Yamamoto conceded to this fact.
---
Two hours earlier.
"Is."
"Is not."
"It is."
"You don't know that."
"I do," Gokudera slammed the car keys sporting the proud logo of the Ferrari company onto the table, "this is Italian craftsmanship, idiot. It rules the Formula 1 like the Tenth rules the underworld. Of course it's faster than a damned Mitsu-whatever."
"Mitsubishi," Yamamoto corrected calmly, "and still. How do you know that? You've never seen one of those Mitsubishis race, have you?"
"I don't need to," the Storm Guardian crossed his arms defiantly, "simple facts are all I need."
He started ticking off imaginary bullet points by his fingers, "How do you intend to beat over 480 horsepower, a top speed of just over 315 kilometres per hour and an acceleration of only 4 seconds from 0 to 100?"
Yamamoto seemed to consider this, "I guess I can't."
"Ha!"
"But a car is only as good as its driver-"
"What? Are you insulting me, moron?" Gokudera was already half out of his chair.
"No! Geez, no," Yamamoto tried to save himself by looking dorky and laughing a lot - which enraged Gokudera even more, "what I meant to say was that you don't necessarily have to be fast to win."
Gokudera settled back down and growled, "The only way you could beat me in a Ferrari is by flying, idiot."
---
Gokudera eyed the idyllic road laid out before them. A few kilometres on gravel backroads from the estate to the highway and after that it was going to be barely more than a relaxing drive towards the sunset. By then the only thing to worry about would be coming up with an appropriately humiliating prize to demand from Yamamoto. Having him clean the kitchen at the base sounded good - with a tooth brush.
He smirked lazily when the engine purred behind his back like Uri waiting to go in for the kill. He'd allowed Yamamoto to pick the route. He'd felt generous - what with Yamamoto's impending doom and all. Plus, the idiot had no idea that there was a brandnew bypass around some of the tiny villages in this area. It was a bit longer than the old scenic route through the towns, but at an average speed of roughly 300 km/h the scenery was only a by-product anyway. Which made this not exactly lying but... purposely omitting information that wouldn't have any impact on the outcome of this race anyway.
Next to his fiery-red beauty the blue deformity roared to life with a satisfyingly ugly stutter. How Yamamoto could still grin and give him the thumbs-up was beyond Gokudera.
They didn't have anyone to do a countdown so Gokudera had placed two small bombs by the side of the road with a timer. It should set them off in three... two... one...
Two sets of spinning tyres spat gravel. Two engines roared like marvellous beasts until dirt obscured the view for a moment and then the only thing left were skidmarks and a bunch of disgruntled birds.
---
"One scratch, you bastard, and I will blast your ass off this fuckin' road!" Gokudera yelled as Yamamoto's car swayed dangerously close to him from the right. Not that Yamamoto would be able to hear over the rush of the wind and the sound of the engines but yelling always made Gokudera feel better.
Steering the Ferrari over the bumpy gravel was hard enough as it was, even without Yamamoto practically poking his head in through the passenger window. The rear of the red sportscar was heavy and didn't exactly like narrow turns with nothing but a few tiny rocks to provide grip. He rooted up a couple of innocent bushes as he tried to get past the Rain Guardian.
Gokudera accelerated on a relatively even strip of road and managed to forge ahead. Only a few hundred metres until they were on the highway, and from then on out the little blue pest crawling up his arse in the rearview mirror was going to be nothing more than a minuscule spot shrinking into the distance.
The scenery was a blur of gold, green and brown. He noted with a considerable amount of reluctance that Yamamoto had much less trouble keeping his blue constructional accident on the road. But that wouldn't be a problem for long.
He could already see the highway - beautiful, long and straight and begging for him to breach the sonic barrier with this baby.
The road parted and Gokudera let the Ferrari drift off onto the driveway. Behind him was a big empty space.
"What the hell?" he squinted into the mirror and waited for the blue Mistubishi to skitter into view but there was nothing. He couldn't have gained such a massive headstart already, could he?
The bloody idiot had to have taken the old road through the villages.
"Stupid baseball nut," Gokudera snorted and concentrated on passing by one, two, three, half a dozen cars at once. He supposed Yamamoto knew fully well that he stood no chance against the Ferrari on a highway. He had to be trying to lessen his disgrace by not being forced to sniff Gokudera's exhaust fumes right away.
"Well," Gokudera smirked as he engaged the sixth gear and rendered the rest of the world more or less static, "have it your way then."
---
The Ferrari skidded around the first curve after the highway and Gokudera had serious trouble keeping it from crashing into the next set of trees. Mainly, because a blue Mistubishi suddenly came darting out of a small farm track and set itself right in front of Gokudera's nose.
"You fucking fffff-," he skipped the rest of the insult in favour of not letting the sportscar spin out of control.
He managed to get it back on track but now he had to deal with looking at the dirt-covered trunk of Yamamoto's blue cancer of the road. Gokudera hissed out a curse and tried to pass by on the right, only to find the familiar rear blocking his way. He swayed to the left - again, a cloud of dirt and glimpses of blue right in front of him. Right, left, it seemed the freaking idiot was everywhere.
Gokudera didn't have much time - the lookout was only two or three turns away. But fortunately, the road was spreading out a little, so there was his chance to show the damned idiot what real horse power meant.
They both drifted around a corner, Gokudera could already see the asphalt replacing the poor gravel road. He hit the accelerator, gaining on Yamamoto - just one more turn, one more, and he would be past the brat and ready to bask in his triumph.
If it wasn't for something black, sleek and impossibly fast rushing past them at that point, racing dangerously along the outer edge of the road.
Whatever it was, it was barely more than a dark streak against green background, obscured by swirling clouds of dust, rubble and stray leaves.
Apparently, Yamamoto was as stunned as he was because the Rain Guardian almost missed the next turn. The wheels of the Mitsubishi bumped over the roots by the side of the road. It made a lopsided turn and nearly crashed into Gokudera's side.
Gokudera spun the wheel around and hoped to God he wasn't going to end up a red smear at the bottom of the slope. He could feel one of the tyres losing grip, hanging over thin air while the Japanese car to his right still hadn't fully regained its balance. He put the pedal to the metal once more, caused the wheels to spin helplessly, digging deep into the ground.
Out of the corner of his eye he registered Yamamoto putting his abomination back on track and speeding up. Damn! And his rear was still hanging over the edge of the road like a fat cow's.
"Damn you," Gokudera spat through gritted teeth while making the engine howl, "I won't let you win."
The back wheels finally re-connected with the ground and as soon as he felt the reassuring smoothness of asphalt beneath him, Gokudera hit the gas and practically sent the Ferrari flying around the last bend.
---
Alright, it was a close call. And any other day they would have needed a photo finish camera to determine who let their car slide to a halt on the parking lot first but unfortunately, they didn't have one of those.
Instead they had Hibari Kyouya - who was leaning against a jet-black menace of a car and looking extremely bored. He frowned when the clouds of dirt settled around the new arrivals and started brushing off his suit.
"What the everloving fuck was that supposed to be, Kyouya?" Gokudera was fuming when he scrambled out of the car, stalking up to his fellow guardian. The lack of other high-speed sportscars in this area left only one conclusion - the cause for their would-be crash earlier was standing right before them. And it was British of all things.
"Whenever have I given you permission to address me like this?" Hibari asked, voice laced with boredom - and a warning sprinkled on top.
Gokudera chose to ignore it. He was far too furious to deal with minor problems such as names. In fact, he could think of a great deal of names to call Hibari right now - none of which were going to improve the situation.
"Did you lose your mind, or what?" he hissed as he stepped into Hibari's personal space, "You could have killed us with that stunt back there."
Hibari gave him a thin smile, "And still, you're here."
That was when Gokudera learned that Bentley produced cars with very damned sturdy doors that didn't particularly agree with his shin bones. Or his forehead, for that matter.
---
"... a bit harsh, don't you think?" Gokudera heard Yamamoto say.
"I am not on first-name terms with you herbivores."
Hibari. That asshole. Gokudera was going to strangle the son of a b-
Well, maybe he was going to do it after his head stopped pounding like mad. Being on first-name basis with a driver's door wasn't too pleasant either - even if it was such a finely shaped specimen as a Bentley's. Wherever Hibari had managed to get a freaking Bentley from in this area was a mystery to him, anyway.
"I'll fucking blast you to hell, Kyouya," Gokudera groaned as he scrambled up from the backseat of the black luxury car. No doubt, Yamamoto had insisted on putting him there. Knowing Kyouya, he probably would have let Gokudera rot on the stony ground.
"Would that be before or after I bite you to death?" Gokudera caught the slightest glimpse of polished metal.
"Stop it, you two," Yamamoto bent down to peer inside the Bentley, "you feeling better?"
"I just cracked my skull on a fucking car," Gokudera grumbled, massaging his forehead, "I feel peachy."
"You think you can drive back to town yourself?"
Gokudera gave his friend a scolding glance, "If I can manage to break that fucker's neck, I think I'll manage a ten-minute drive home, yes."
He offered his nemesis with the towering tonfas a daring grin.
He got one in return - only this one was bordering on scary, "Well, if that's so I'm sure you'll be able to hand me my prize."
"Your what?" Gokudera gaped at the Cloud Guardian. He did look rather impressive with the sun setting to his left and the black taylored suit, not to mention the dangerous glint of cold steel along his arms.
"My prize," Hibari stated matter-of-factly, "I won."
"You what?" Apparently, Gokudera was missing an enormous part of his usual vocabulary because that was all he could say as he kept staring at the black-haired man.
"Well," Yamamoto butted in with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck, "he did get here first..."
Gokudera snapped his attention back to Yamamoto, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound. How come Hibari had this nasty tendency to make Gokudera look dumbfounded?
"You... you-," Gokudera was probably red as a tomato when he found his ability to speak again, "you weren't even part of the race!"
"Makes it even more humiliating for you," Hibari shrugged as if explaining to a stupid child why 2+2 equalled 4.
"You... you...," Gokudera knew he was seconds away from raging on in Italian - and that was usually also the point when he started blowing people's faces off. Yamamoto, the peacekeeper that he was, was trying to hold him back.
"Since you got in last I say it should be you," Hibari gave them a cold look.
"Asshole," Gokudera snarled, "you don't even know who got in last. It's impossible to say, so fuck the hell off."
It took him a moment or two to register the little word that seemed a bit out of place in Hibari's statement.
"Wait," Gokudera frowned, "me what?"
"You are incredibly thick for someone claiming to be smart," Hibari said but there was the tiniest of smiles on his face. It was very unsettling.
Gokudera disentangled himself from Yamamoto's involuntary embrace and looked from one fellow guardian to the other. Yamamoto was blushing - and grinning while studying the sunset a bit too intently for Gokudera's taste.
"You've got to be kidding me," Gokudera finally managed, pointing a warning finger at the both of them, "no. Forget it. Not a chance. Ever."
---
'Ever' was exactly ten minutes and a game of rock-paper-scissors later. As it was impossible to tell which one of them had arrived first they had settled matters like the grown-up men that they were.
Until that point he hadn't realised that he had a tell at rock-paper-scissors. But according to Yamamoto he supposedly tended to bite the inside of his cheek when he was about to go for 'rock'. Gokudera made a mental note never to play poker with Yamamoto.
At first, Gokudera thought they had clarified who was going to have to be on the bottom of the... pile - because he could hardly think of anything else to describe the image in his head. But he quickly found out that they had merely determined who got to get off last.
Which made Gokudera hate that bloody children's game more than anything else ever before.
Yamamoto was perched on the hood of the Bentley before him, pants somewhere around his ankles, legs parted and desperately longing for something, anything, to dig his nails into.
"Not one scratch, herbivore," Hibari growled over Gokudera's shoulder and goddammit could he feel each and every sound vibrating through his body. Gokudera moaned at the sensation, even more so as Hibari pushed in a little more vehemently the next time he moved. It caused Yamamoto to choke on his apologetic laugh.
Gokudera lapped up a thin trail of precome from Yamamoto's cock, making the Rain Guardian shiver and throw his head back with a frustrated groan. The former baseball player's hands were flexing against the smooth varnish of the car, leaving sweaty imprints. If Hibari made them wash the damned car afterwards, Gokudera swore to himself he was going to blow it up.
Frankly, he was somewhat oblivious to anything further into the future than five seconds. He swirled his tongue over Yamamoto's length and tried not to bite down in sheer exasperation. Hibari's grip around the base of his cock was slowly but steadily becoming the centre of a world of hatred.
He could sense the damned skylark smirking pleasantly while pounding into him and making him accidentally rake his teeth over Yamamoto's dick.
"Hey!" Yamamoto flinched, "Take it a bit slower, Hibari. You're making him-... Damn!"
Gokudera reckoned he meant to say 'bite' but they both suffered from sudden speech-impairement when Hibari's hand settled none too gently on the back of Gokudera's head and pushed him down.
It wasn't too forceful - at least the bloody Cloud Guardian wasn't trying to suffocate him - but it did wring a startled noise from him which had a rather interesting impact on Yamamoto's composure. The swordsman bucked his hips in an unsteady rhythm. His sweat-slicked forearms kept slipping on the glossy surface of the car.
Gokudera shook off Hibari's insistent hand and let Yamamoto's dick slide out of his mouth, eliciting a pitiful whine from the Rain Guardian, "This... this isn't gonna... w-work."
He really tried to say it in one go but Hibari's thrusts got in the way of his words. As did the tiny moans he couldn't quite hold back.
Behind him, Hibari gave an irritated sigh, "If you soil it I will have you clean it. And then bite you to death."
Gokudera moved to shoot the black-haired guardian an irate glance over his shoulder but he never got as far. With one push Hibari shoved Gokudera forward and half-way onto Yamamoto, who in turn landed with his shoulders against the windshield.
It didn't specifically help Gokudera but it sure worked a hell of a lot better without Yamamoto slip-sliding in his direction all the time. It also made the tip of Gokudera's cock brush against the cool metal of the hood every time Hibari's hips connected with his arse. It was driving him insane. But the grasp around his member was as secure as ever.
And the worst part was that with his mouth full again Gokudera couldn't even swear. Not if he didn't want Yamamoto to sing soprano. At least not willingly - he couldn't necessarily guarantee that he wasn't going to do anything rash in the next few minutes if they kept torturing him like this.
He had Yamamoto fucking his mouth in a slightly unbalanced manner and Hibari pushing into him from behind in a rhythm so precise and calculating that Gokudera was considering punching holes into the damned car just to do something to make the Cloud Guardian waver. He wanted to bite the bloody skylark, blast him to kingdom come, beg him, make him go faster, whatever the hell needed to be done to get this over with so Gokudera could finally find his own release.
Yamamoto wasn't helping either. Despite appearances, the stupid idiot had the restraint of a darned ox - he was writhing, biting his lip, moaning and leaving streaks of sweat on the black paint but he just wouldn't come already. He even had one of his hands buried in Gokudera's hair, tugging almost painfully. Compared to Yamamoto's grip Hibari's fingers scraping over his back and sides were bordering on pleasurable. Even if they left the occasional angry red mark.
Gokudera wished he had something sharp to key the thrice-damned car with in exchange.
As if Hibari had sensed his thoughts a particularly harsh thrust sent Gokudera a little too far up the hood and into Yamamoto's lap. The Rain Guardian bit down on his lower lip in surprise, staining it red before he opened his mouth in a soundless cry.
Gokudera barely had any time to steel himself, not to mention pull off before he could choke. He did the only reasonable thing he could think of while having his best friend's dick so far down his throat that he was going to live under the impression of feeling it for days to come - he swallowed. Or rather, he tried to.
He was marginally aware of Yamamoto's fist tightening in his hair, his motions stalling for a second and then warm, sticky liquid was filling Gokudera's mouth. The gag reflex was strong but somehow Gokudera wrestled it down and found he rather enjoyed the sounds coming from his usually so composed friend.
The heavy weight of Yamamoto's hand disappeared from his scalp as the swordsman tensed one more time and then lay spread-eagled before them on the hood of the car, eyes closed, breathing heavily and with a damned stupid grin on his face.
None of this solved Gokudera's problem of having an annoyingly skilled Cloud Guardian fuck him six ways from Sunday.
At least he got his mouth back for personal use. Naturally, in between pathetic little pleading noises and gasps he was spitting out colourful curses in barely recognisable Italian that would have made even the devil blush like a nun.
Obviously, he was making a pitiful enough impression because Yamamoto suddenly sat up and scooted towards him until they were face to face. His smile, in all its impossible warmth was such a stark contrast to Hibari's actions that it even stopped the string of swearwords tumbling off Gokudera's lips. The kindhearted idiot took Gokudera's all-too-willing arms and slid them around his middle with a small wink.
And then Yamamoto kissed him; fingers tangled in the mess of silvery hair, tongue slipping inside because Gokudera couldn't for the life of him keep his mouth shut.
Gokudera could taste the metallic tang of blood, could even feel the small cut where Yamamoto's teeth had worried his lip earlier. It was a bit too sloppy, a bit too urgent but he liked it. He even liked how Hibari was pressing him ever closer to the Rain Guardian.
Until Hibari made his demanding presence known again by releasing his hold on Gokudera's cock with a start.
Gokudera couldn't suppress a hearty curse, half-swallowed by Yamamoto's lips, at the sudden lack of pressure. It returned twofold.
If he hadn't looked down to confirm his suspicions he wouldn't have believed it. Hibari's and Yamamoto's fingers entwined around his dick, stroking in unison to get him off - the thought alone would have been enough to make him come right on the spot.
He let his head drop back onto Hibari's surprisingly convenient shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. Words escaped him at that point - even in his mother tongue - as he raked his nails over Yamamoto's back in pure delight. He didn't last long, couldn't, not even if he'd wanted to. The frustration these two bastards had inflicted upon him quickly turned into mind-blowing pleasure.
He gasped, riding out each and every of Hibari's thrusts, noting not even the change in pace as the Cloud Guardian was about to let go of his precious control. He felt Hibari's release filling him, the last and forceful push sending the skylark over the edge.
Gokudera's body seemed to decide that now was a good time to take care of his own needs. Behind him Hibari continued to deliver shallow thrust so that Gokudera had nothing more to do than concentrate on the flash of heat surging towards his cock.
Two sets of proficient fingers caught his seed as he came with no more than a ragged breath and the faint suggestion of the word 'fuck' on his lips.
---
When the tingling in his toes had stopped Gokudera found himself cradled in Yamamoto's arms, sitting in front of the massive hood of the Bentley. He was still a bit too dazed to realise that he was being treated like a goddamned child. But in a few minutes time he was sure to voice his protest.
Just... a few more minutes.
He watched Hibari dress himself, wondering lazily how the skylark achieved this look of utter imperturbability in the light of recent events.
"How do you do that?" he mumbled idly against Yamamoto's chest.
Hibari looked up from knotting his tie.
"You just screwed my brains out and you look like nothing happened," Gokudera gestured wearily, "even Yamamoto here at least has the decency to pretend to be exhausted."
"I am exhausted," Yamamoto laughed, the sound a comforting rumble against Gokudera's ear.
"Yeah, but you don't look like you've just had a shower, breakfast and two meetings."
"That's because I have a spare suit in the trunk", Hibari stated calmly and threw a towel at them that he had miraculously extracted from the vastness of the Bentley's interior.
"You've been planning this, haven't you?" Gokudera stared at the fuzzy cloth in his hands.
"If by planning you mean knowing that I was going to beat you, then yes."
Gokudera knew that this part of the conversation was going to make him very, very mad later on but he settled on tossing the towel back in Hibari's face for now.
"I hate you."
"I know."
"And I hate you too," Gokudera nudged the Rain Guardian and waved an unsteady finger under his nose, "and just for the record, I did not come in last."
None of them corrected him which was as good as a victory anyway.
~~~Fin~~~
Note: Forgive me for using the European measuring system up there but I figured since Gokudera is from Italy and he's talking about an Italian car he would rather stick to the measurements used where the car is manufactured. But if you think this seems odd, tell me and I'll see if I can find a way to convert it to whichever system makes more sense.
And now for the motorists among us:
Yamamoto's car: Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X (c) by Mitsubishi Motors Corporation
Gokudera's car: Ferrari F430 (c) by Ferrari S.p.A.
Hibari's car: Bentley Continental GT Speed (c) by Bentley Motors Ltd.
Slightly unrelated but: Has anybody else ever noticed that 'Lambo' is a popular nickname for Lamborghini? Just sayin'.