[Katekyou Hitman Reborn!]: "Metamorphosis" (D18 for yamikakyuu)
A drabble for yamikakyuu, as thanks for requesting of mikoo on AnimeSuki my current avatar. (The world needs more dansen!Chrome, I swear.) I also got dansen!6996, but this one comes first on my icon list so it's the one I decided to post with. ^^; She requested something Hibari-centric, but I stretched it even further just for her and made it D18, as well. (You like this pair, Yami, am I correct? Oh man, I hope I didn't mistake you for another one of Rune's friends... *sweat*)
Needless to say, due to my inability to shut up, this turned into quite more than a 'drabble'. *face/desk*
Title: Metamorphosis
Author: Ovid Franz Kafka Lorelei DiAngelo
Rating: R, probably. Whatever rating exists for a vaguely-described blow job, OTL.
Pairing: Dino/Hibari. Who'd have guessed. (Certainly not I.) Actually, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while, so...Yami...I hope you don't mind?
Summary: In which Dino compares Hibari to Remus and/or Romulus, and receives a bunch of shit for his troubles. Also, Romario attempts to find coffee in a backwater village on Mt. Moriyama.
For: yamikakyuu. LOL Rune, I like how I've assimilated about half of your friend's list. Also, Yami, thanks again. ^___^
Notes: The character of Dino still eludes me, but dammit, I tried my best. His seiyuu gives me a goddamned orgasm every time I watch the anime, though. Plz to be telling me I'm not the only one who feels this way.
Word Count: 3,360. 3,360 = the new drabble? *shot*
There was really no reason for them to be there. Dino knew this, he was certain that Hibari knew this, and the only person who did not perhaps know this had just wandered down the mountainside, rubbing his eyes and muttering something about strong coffee.
(Except that Romario probably did know, as well, and was merely trying in his own way to be reverent. It was rather insulting, really, to learn that the teacher was nothing more than a playmate for the student, who had long ago learned all there was to learn from his tutor, and more besides.)
(About fighting, that was.)
Dino managed to trip over a rock and split his knuckles on some tree bark the instant Romario had left, and he managed to do all that in a mere attempt to lie down; did it in record time, to boot. Hibari, sprawled under a sycamore in a manner that was not sprawling, managed to flick his gaze over to him, cursorily, in a manner that was not gazing, either. Sweat glistened on him in an almost imperceptible sheen; matted his hair, slightly, at his temples, and Dino resisted the urge to crouch down, next to him, and ruffle it with his hands. (He valued his hands, after all, great companions to his wrists. Their absence would be a true misfortune.)
Still, Dino sprawled under that same sycamore in a way that was just that - sprawling - and thought to himself, I will teach this kid something, even if it kills me. He laid closer than he had ever dared before; in earshot, within reach, and though he thought for sure that the distance would ellicit some sort of comment from the slender, dark-haired boy, Hibari merely glanced at him, before rolling over and putting his back to him, pointedly.
Three days of straight brawling in the thin mountain air was enough to tire anyone out, but Dino, used to the sun-speckled climate of Bolzano in the Alps, was neither worn enough nor foolish enough to see the gesture as anything but what it was - an invitation to challenge, and he almost laughed about loud. Didn't this kid ever get tired? He'd feel it in his old age. Then again, for someone tied so closely to battle as Hibari, there probably wouldn't be a... - and he stopped that thought before he depressed the hell out of himself. A choice, after all. Everyone had them. What sort of choice there could be for a boy burdened with such extensive power was an answer that eluded the Cavallone, but he was a tutor, not a philosopher, so he let it drop for now.
"Hey, Kyoya," he said aloud, angling his arms behind his head (jamming a finger into his ear, hard, in the process); "what'll your parents say, you think, about you just disappearing and all this?"
He was rewarded with silence; the answer he expected, the answer he got. Another answer in and of itself - he probably didn't have parents. Tsuna and the others might have been baffled by it, but Hibari was a bit easy to read, really, in that the answers lay in the things that he didn't say, rather than in the threats that he did. Understanding the student was part of being the tutor, wasn't that what Reborn had said, once, long ago?
Dino couldn't really call himself satisfied with his work, however, so he dug deeper, at great risk to his personal assests (arms, legs, groin, etc.): "So what was it, then? Found floating down the river in a basket of reeds?" He paused; considered, staring past the wisps of his sunny bangs to the trees that lay beyond. "No, your origins wouldn't be as humble as that, now would they?"
"If you don't shut up," Hibari said evenly, interrupting in a way that was not like interrupting for the way he waited until Dino had let out breath; "your death will be the swiftest you have ever known. I give you my word."
If you say anything else, you'll be closer to the truth than I like, was the meaning of that particular threat, and if there was one thing the kid hated other than crowds (and weaklings, and green vegetables, and so on), it was the discovering of certain truths. Not only those about himself, but ones about the world, the world he lived in, as well. He had not a single shred of curiosity, about anything or himself. Something to be taught, then? Hibari still hadn't turned his back. The cards were not in the blond's favor.
Dino, however, had in his arsenal a single statement that was the perfect bait. "You know, Kyoya," he said, smiling his bold Italian smile, toes wiggling in his shoes; "I'm not afraid of you."
Hibari, slowly, rolled his head over his shoulder.
"Horses may have hooves and teeth," he agreed, "but they're still just herbivores, in the end. Ignorance is no excuse."
But he was looking. Dino watched a butterfly drift across the sky. "Because you'll do great things," he said, in answer, though the shorter boy's comment hadn't really been a question. (To those untrained, at least.) "It's a prediction, from your tutor to you. One day, you'll do something grand, Kyoya. I mean it."
Hibari was sitting up. Reaching for his tonfas. Shit, not good. He didn't like sincere praise. He liked senseless things that were obvious, rather than perceptive comments aimed at his social vitals. Dino backtracked.
"Everything is for Namimori, am I right?" he asked, though he knew the answer - a fine dance of yes and no. Of could be, when I want it to be. When it's an excuse to do the things that I want to do. And various other things. Still, if Namimori was his Calliope, then who was Dino to complain? The results were incomparable; he resisted more than ever the urge to stretch his hand across that fragile distance and bury it in soft, feathery dark hair. (Would have poked the kid's eye out, more likely, since Romario was probably enjoying a cup of something dubious in some mountain village or another right about now.)
Hibari set the butts of his tonfas onto the ground, but didn't let them drop. Willing to be enticed, then. When his left eyebrow dipped, like that, it meant he was thinking quite furiously about something, and something serious. Dino arched his back; scissored his legs to a wide V, and stretched, enjoying the satisfying noise of something popping in his lower vertebrae. "In Italy, we have an old story. Of how our capital, Rome, was founded by a pair of boys who were raised by wolves."
Hibari put his tonfas away in a manner that was not like putting them away; rather, more like insinuating that there would be a definite use for them later. But away they went. Dino unfolded his arms from behind his head and toyed with the chain on his jeans, idly.
"Romulus and Remus," he said, "born nephews to a tyrant who feared their insurgence. Twins, you know. For their faultless crime, they were ordered to be thrown into the Tiber." Dino paused and glanced at Hibari, flicking some hair out of his eyes carelessly. "Can you swim, Kyoya?"
The dark-haired boy bent a leg; rested his elbow on it, boredly. One of the fingers on his other hand tapped the ground in a slow, steady rhythm. Born with the ability, was what he didn't say. And, What's your point? His hair shaded his eyes. (Such long, fine hair.) Dino went to swat a fly off of his shoulder and wound up hitting himself in the face, instead.
"At any rate," he went on, rubbing his injured cheek dolefully, "what saved them wasn't skill, but their innocence, you know? Rather than drowning them, the servant appointed to the task sent them down the river safely in a basket, instead." He laughed, vividly and openly. Part of the trick, after all, was to make it subtle; "They were placed atop Palatine Hill by the river god, and from there, nursed by a wolf." Another carefully-placed pause. "Was she prettier than your mother, you think, or perhaps more noble...Kyoya?"
Hibari yawned; slumped his head down atop raised knees. He had very straight, perfect teeth. He also had no qualms about using them, which was the only thing that stopped the tall blond from stretching out his hand and touching that pale, strangely serene visage. (He valued his fingers, great companions to his hands, and all the rest.) But Hibari said nothing; did nothing. He was listening, though, very intently. He'd have put his head in his arms, otherwise. Or just plain beaten the other man unconscious.
Dino let out a breath, and flashed Hibari a bright, knowing smile. "But the truth is, you know, the two of them grew up without peer. Saying nothing of their petty dispute that ended up with one of them dead, the fact still remains this: as men, they were among the greatest. Without peer."
He sat up, and began absently wrapping his whip in coils around his left wrist, shoulders hunched but eyes towards the sky. He was elephantine compared to the pale and willowly Hibari; had no illusion, of course, about what the outcome of any sort of battle of theirs would be, but entertained the thought of grinning, pinning the shorter boy down, regardless. (The thought of which made him color, spectacularly, and grow hot despite the coolness of the day.)
"Would you like it if others were to write stories of you someday, Kyoya?" he asked mildly, instead, wrapping his arms around his knees and tilting his head to the side, curiously. (The look that had melted the hearts of the most frigid women in Italy, though Dino himself was actually unaware of it. He'd always thought he was just being nice.)
Hibari shifted, almost imperceptibly - noticeable only by the slight flutter of his bright, dark hair. "If that subordinate of yours hasn't returned within the next three minutes, I'm going to bite you to death." He was dragging lines in the dirt with one delicate, blood-crusted nail. A tic Dino had yet to see - he glanced at that nail, sidelong, and tried to puzzle out its meaning. The threat carried the connontation of acceptable annoyance, but the time limit placed within that threat spoke of urgency, and Dino forfeited, shaking his head and spreading his palms into the empty air. Treading further was dangerous. He'd try an assault from another angle later, but for now, he'd try his best to smooth the situation over in any way that he could.
"I just thought that you should know," he said honestly, sweeping his hair back from his head and feeling it fall back into his face in a disarray. "You're without peer, Kyoya."
The blond had a second to see that nail curve, slightly, before Hibari leapt.
The blow to his skull left him nearly unconscious, blood oozing from his temple in a warm line, and his head hit something hard in the moment he landed. He drew in a startled breath, and struggled to roll away, only to discover that his whip (earlier coiled around his left hand) had somehow gotten tangled in his left leg, and strung around his neck, besides. He resisted the urge to call out Romario!, because, well, he was a man, too, and had some semblance of pride; he went still, not wanting to suffocate himself with his own weapon, and tried to move his other hand, only to discover that it had been pinned to the ground by a pale, spider-thin fist.
A tonfa clattered to the ground beside his head, and Dino had a moment to see it, wet with his own blood, before the second of those tenacious, fragile-looking hands pressed itself down atop his eyelids.
"Kyo - " he started to say, breathlessly, before teeth connected with his parted lips, and he accidentally bit down on his tongue. (And girls had loved that tongue, too, whether it was the way it had stumbled over words when he was younger or stroked over their bodies as he grew a little bit older. If it were the army, he could have retired with a purple heart, but he'd been strong-armed into a less...law-abiding echelon of society, and, well, there one had it.) Dino mmmph'd, and wondered for a moment why the hell Hibari had decided to kill him by biting his face off.
Only - that hand was still over his eyes, so he couldn't be sure - it wasn't quite like biting, more like...an extremely inexperienced sort of kissing, and - oh, God. His shoulders shook, from something that was either silent laughter or sudden terror. The blond struggled to moderate his breathing. His head swam.
"What was your point?" Dino heard, muttered tersely, into his right ear, as the teeth digging pinpricks into his lips chose then to move away; he understood, suddenly, what that nail digging into the dirt had meant. He understood a hell of a lot more than he had understood from the last five minutes, at least. He tried not to laugh as he replied:
"That against your best efforts and wishes, Kyoya, I came to understand you, a little. That's all."
And then there were legs straddling him, stick-thin (did he eat right, that kid? Anything other than hamburgers and rice?), and knees on his wrists, and Dino struggled to breathe around the tautness of his whip. He used to speak, jokingly, of how these crazy foreign kids would one day be the death of him, but he'd never honestly thought it to be true. With his legs free, he kicked patterns in the dirt; a reflex, if there ever was one; he wasn't actually trying to get away. He'd poked too far, and it was his job to ride this out to the end.
Above him, there was the distinct noise of a zipper being drawn down.
Against his better judgement, Dino blanched; struggled, a bit, choking himself for a minute as he wondered how far the hell away Romario and the real Hibari Kyoya had went. (Because this was just ludicrous. All this, from a boy who was born from the birds but dined with the wolves? A bite that was more like a kiss was one thing, but...)
His hair was jerked, fisted, and his head was drawn up, the smell of sweat and something musky tickling from above him. The blond retracted all of his earlier statements and desires: there was nothing soft or misunderstood about this particular young man; he did what he wanted, when he wanted it, and with no regard for the consequences. (Oh, to be young again.) Something warm and stiff poked against his cheek, and he, a grown goddamned man, for shit's sake! - struggled to keep his embarrassment from showing on his face.
"Uh...not that I don't admire your technique, and all - splitting my head clear open is a pretty efficient tactic to get me down onto the ground - but, uh..." He barely managed to snap his jaw shut in time. He was clouted on the temple again, hard.
"Open your mouth," Hibari ordered, voice a low, clipped murmur, and Dino took a moment to ponder the consequences of each subsequent action and reaction. Either way, he was probably going to die. The thought was disheartening. But...
Well, if one were to ask the petite prince Fuuta, it would probably rank as absolute last on the list of possible things to result from the current scenario.
But it was on the list, regardless. 'Without peer', hunh? It must have been terribly lonely.
"Hey, Kyoya, what sorts of things do you see in the clouds?" Dino asked, smiling, and stretched his jaw out wide.
The first thrust nearly made him gag. He probably would have thrown up, honestly, if there hadn't been a warm, solid erection currently blocking the passage of any potential bile from his esophagus to his mouth. He jerked, working his pinned wrist free, and got a hand around one of the black-haired boy's pale, jutting hips, pushing back enough to give himself room to breathe. Not an ounce of self-restraint; he was Romulus, then, never thinking twice about slaying his own kin for the pointless sin of breaching his walls. Dino felt suddenly like he didn't understand anything about this kid at all.
He tried, though. He tried damn hard. He was a klutz at this, all teeth and no tongue, with a hard-on rising slowly from the depths of his own jeans, but Hibari seemed not to mind any of it, breath coming in a long, drawn-out hiss, hips rolling with the movement of a marching army. The results were different than what he expected, but strangely, Dino didn't care. Maybe it came from years of hindsight - whenever people like Hibari pushed, there was always a string of people left being pulled along in their wake. Maybe he'd just wanted to be dragged along by something other than himself, for a change?
But - a jerk, two thrusts more, and Hibari came into his mouth, hard, harder than it seemed; for all his legs shook, slightly, and his hand curved crescents into the sides of Dino's right eye, he hardly made a sound, other than to let out a breath akin to the ones that people make after they have just finished drinking something bitter; which - (Dino sputtered, and blew breath frantically out of his nose as the shorter boy held his head firmly in place, forcing him to swallow) - if anyone should have had that right, it should have been him. He thought to complain - jerked his head back, forcefully, as a matter of fact, with the intent.
But Hibari loosed his hand, gone slightly damp with sweat, and loosed his grip, and rolled placidly away, sun speckling his cheeks through the leaves of the sycamore and giving him a bit of color, at last. Painstakingly, Dino opened his eyes, gradually growing accustomed again to the light of midday, and he sat up, drawing his knees to his chest in an attempt to hide the stiffness between his legs, but the black-haired boy had his eyes closed, and probably wouldn't have said anything even if he hadn't. Dino untangled himself from the coils of his whip, laughing ruefully a bit at his own clumsiness, and wondered if he'd ever be able to do anything on his own.
(Lonely that way, though, wasn't it?)
He licked his lips clean, and said with a smile, "One day, Kyoya. One day, you will do something grand."
Six hours, and sixty-six men. Two more, and about twenty left to go. Meanwhile, miles away, the cursed baby and his brats race through metal hallways in an attempt to find the piece of the puzzle they've left behind. Meanwhile, closer than he'd like, Rokudo Mukuro's shadow sleeps fitfully on, fighting for the life which she has never thought of as hers.
A bevelled nunchaku slams into his arm, and he hears the bone crack. Grinding his teeth into his cheek, he swings that arm in a wide arc, sending his tonfa spiralling with it - since he can't use it, he might as well use it - and it takes down three of the enemy, in a brisk, business-like way. For once, he gets no satisfaction out of the way their eyes bulge, and their noses spew blood.
"One day, you'll do something grand."
He drops to a knee, blood pouring from his broken arm. It pours from other broken bits, as well, places he tries not to think about so much because they're places he can live without. For example, he'd never had much use for his pelvic bone, anyway. (Just one, as a matter of fact.)
Something grand, he thinks, as he struggles once more to his feet, would be the expulsion of these idiots, and three dozen more, and any others that might come after. Something grand, he thinks, as his feet slip, painfully, in the puddle of his own blood, would be seeing the clouds look like clouds, for a change, instead of the things that people want them to be.
But the truth is, he never learned how to swim.
AN: Ahahahaha orz way to randomly make this the most depressing thing I've read all day, self. *epic fail* Apparently even listening to TMR's "Billion" album couldn't stop me from angsting the shit out of this. Uh, sorry, yamikakyuu? It occurs to me that you didn't specify whether you wanted this to be happy or angsty, and I should have asked. *sigh*
In other news, that last section was barbarically OOC. But it wraps up all of those annoying recurring themes, so there it stays. Enjoy your sort-of Hibari character study, Yami. ♥ (Don't see how you possibly COULD, but oh well.)
Needless to say, due to my inability to shut up, this turned into quite more than a 'drabble'. *face/desk*
Title: Metamorphosis
Author: Ovid Franz Kafka Lorelei DiAngelo
Rating: R, probably. Whatever rating exists for a vaguely-described blow job, OTL.
Pairing: Dino/Hibari. Who'd have guessed. (Certainly not I.) Actually, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while, so...Yami...I hope you don't mind?
Summary: In which Dino compares Hibari to Remus and/or Romulus, and receives a bunch of shit for his troubles. Also, Romario attempts to find coffee in a backwater village on Mt. Moriyama.
For: yamikakyuu. LOL Rune, I like how I've assimilated about half of your friend's list. Also, Yami, thanks again. ^___^
Notes: The character of Dino still eludes me, but dammit, I tried my best. His seiyuu gives me a goddamned orgasm every time I watch the anime, though. Plz to be telling me I'm not the only one who feels this way.
Word Count: 3,360. 3,360 = the new drabble? *shot*
There was really no reason for them to be there. Dino knew this, he was certain that Hibari knew this, and the only person who did not perhaps know this had just wandered down the mountainside, rubbing his eyes and muttering something about strong coffee.
(Except that Romario probably did know, as well, and was merely trying in his own way to be reverent. It was rather insulting, really, to learn that the teacher was nothing more than a playmate for the student, who had long ago learned all there was to learn from his tutor, and more besides.)
(About fighting, that was.)
Dino managed to trip over a rock and split his knuckles on some tree bark the instant Romario had left, and he managed to do all that in a mere attempt to lie down; did it in record time, to boot. Hibari, sprawled under a sycamore in a manner that was not sprawling, managed to flick his gaze over to him, cursorily, in a manner that was not gazing, either. Sweat glistened on him in an almost imperceptible sheen; matted his hair, slightly, at his temples, and Dino resisted the urge to crouch down, next to him, and ruffle it with his hands. (He valued his hands, after all, great companions to his wrists. Their absence would be a true misfortune.)
Still, Dino sprawled under that same sycamore in a way that was just that - sprawling - and thought to himself, I will teach this kid something, even if it kills me. He laid closer than he had ever dared before; in earshot, within reach, and though he thought for sure that the distance would ellicit some sort of comment from the slender, dark-haired boy, Hibari merely glanced at him, before rolling over and putting his back to him, pointedly.
Three days of straight brawling in the thin mountain air was enough to tire anyone out, but Dino, used to the sun-speckled climate of Bolzano in the Alps, was neither worn enough nor foolish enough to see the gesture as anything but what it was - an invitation to challenge, and he almost laughed about loud. Didn't this kid ever get tired? He'd feel it in his old age. Then again, for someone tied so closely to battle as Hibari, there probably wouldn't be a... - and he stopped that thought before he depressed the hell out of himself. A choice, after all. Everyone had them. What sort of choice there could be for a boy burdened with such extensive power was an answer that eluded the Cavallone, but he was a tutor, not a philosopher, so he let it drop for now.
"Hey, Kyoya," he said aloud, angling his arms behind his head (jamming a finger into his ear, hard, in the process); "what'll your parents say, you think, about you just disappearing and all this?"
He was rewarded with silence; the answer he expected, the answer he got. Another answer in and of itself - he probably didn't have parents. Tsuna and the others might have been baffled by it, but Hibari was a bit easy to read, really, in that the answers lay in the things that he didn't say, rather than in the threats that he did. Understanding the student was part of being the tutor, wasn't that what Reborn had said, once, long ago?
Dino couldn't really call himself satisfied with his work, however, so he dug deeper, at great risk to his personal assests (arms, legs, groin, etc.): "So what was it, then? Found floating down the river in a basket of reeds?" He paused; considered, staring past the wisps of his sunny bangs to the trees that lay beyond. "No, your origins wouldn't be as humble as that, now would they?"
"If you don't shut up," Hibari said evenly, interrupting in a way that was not like interrupting for the way he waited until Dino had let out breath; "your death will be the swiftest you have ever known. I give you my word."
If you say anything else, you'll be closer to the truth than I like, was the meaning of that particular threat, and if there was one thing the kid hated other than crowds (and weaklings, and green vegetables, and so on), it was the discovering of certain truths. Not only those about himself, but ones about the world, the world he lived in, as well. He had not a single shred of curiosity, about anything or himself. Something to be taught, then? Hibari still hadn't turned his back. The cards were not in the blond's favor.
Dino, however, had in his arsenal a single statement that was the perfect bait. "You know, Kyoya," he said, smiling his bold Italian smile, toes wiggling in his shoes; "I'm not afraid of you."
Hibari, slowly, rolled his head over his shoulder.
"Horses may have hooves and teeth," he agreed, "but they're still just herbivores, in the end. Ignorance is no excuse."
But he was looking. Dino watched a butterfly drift across the sky. "Because you'll do great things," he said, in answer, though the shorter boy's comment hadn't really been a question. (To those untrained, at least.) "It's a prediction, from your tutor to you. One day, you'll do something grand, Kyoya. I mean it."
Hibari was sitting up. Reaching for his tonfas. Shit, not good. He didn't like sincere praise. He liked senseless things that were obvious, rather than perceptive comments aimed at his social vitals. Dino backtracked.
"Everything is for Namimori, am I right?" he asked, though he knew the answer - a fine dance of yes and no. Of could be, when I want it to be. When it's an excuse to do the things that I want to do. And various other things. Still, if Namimori was his Calliope, then who was Dino to complain? The results were incomparable; he resisted more than ever the urge to stretch his hand across that fragile distance and bury it in soft, feathery dark hair. (Would have poked the kid's eye out, more likely, since Romario was probably enjoying a cup of something dubious in some mountain village or another right about now.)
Hibari set the butts of his tonfas onto the ground, but didn't let them drop. Willing to be enticed, then. When his left eyebrow dipped, like that, it meant he was thinking quite furiously about something, and something serious. Dino arched his back; scissored his legs to a wide V, and stretched, enjoying the satisfying noise of something popping in his lower vertebrae. "In Italy, we have an old story. Of how our capital, Rome, was founded by a pair of boys who were raised by wolves."
Hibari put his tonfas away in a manner that was not like putting them away; rather, more like insinuating that there would be a definite use for them later. But away they went. Dino unfolded his arms from behind his head and toyed with the chain on his jeans, idly.
"Romulus and Remus," he said, "born nephews to a tyrant who feared their insurgence. Twins, you know. For their faultless crime, they were ordered to be thrown into the Tiber." Dino paused and glanced at Hibari, flicking some hair out of his eyes carelessly. "Can you swim, Kyoya?"
The dark-haired boy bent a leg; rested his elbow on it, boredly. One of the fingers on his other hand tapped the ground in a slow, steady rhythm. Born with the ability, was what he didn't say. And, What's your point? His hair shaded his eyes. (Such long, fine hair.) Dino went to swat a fly off of his shoulder and wound up hitting himself in the face, instead.
"At any rate," he went on, rubbing his injured cheek dolefully, "what saved them wasn't skill, but their innocence, you know? Rather than drowning them, the servant appointed to the task sent them down the river safely in a basket, instead." He laughed, vividly and openly. Part of the trick, after all, was to make it subtle; "They were placed atop Palatine Hill by the river god, and from there, nursed by a wolf." Another carefully-placed pause. "Was she prettier than your mother, you think, or perhaps more noble...Kyoya?"
Hibari yawned; slumped his head down atop raised knees. He had very straight, perfect teeth. He also had no qualms about using them, which was the only thing that stopped the tall blond from stretching out his hand and touching that pale, strangely serene visage. (He valued his fingers, great companions to his hands, and all the rest.) But Hibari said nothing; did nothing. He was listening, though, very intently. He'd have put his head in his arms, otherwise. Or just plain beaten the other man unconscious.
Dino let out a breath, and flashed Hibari a bright, knowing smile. "But the truth is, you know, the two of them grew up without peer. Saying nothing of their petty dispute that ended up with one of them dead, the fact still remains this: as men, they were among the greatest. Without peer."
He sat up, and began absently wrapping his whip in coils around his left wrist, shoulders hunched but eyes towards the sky. He was elephantine compared to the pale and willowly Hibari; had no illusion, of course, about what the outcome of any sort of battle of theirs would be, but entertained the thought of grinning, pinning the shorter boy down, regardless. (The thought of which made him color, spectacularly, and grow hot despite the coolness of the day.)
"Would you like it if others were to write stories of you someday, Kyoya?" he asked mildly, instead, wrapping his arms around his knees and tilting his head to the side, curiously. (The look that had melted the hearts of the most frigid women in Italy, though Dino himself was actually unaware of it. He'd always thought he was just being nice.)
Hibari shifted, almost imperceptibly - noticeable only by the slight flutter of his bright, dark hair. "If that subordinate of yours hasn't returned within the next three minutes, I'm going to bite you to death." He was dragging lines in the dirt with one delicate, blood-crusted nail. A tic Dino had yet to see - he glanced at that nail, sidelong, and tried to puzzle out its meaning. The threat carried the connontation of acceptable annoyance, but the time limit placed within that threat spoke of urgency, and Dino forfeited, shaking his head and spreading his palms into the empty air. Treading further was dangerous. He'd try an assault from another angle later, but for now, he'd try his best to smooth the situation over in any way that he could.
"I just thought that you should know," he said honestly, sweeping his hair back from his head and feeling it fall back into his face in a disarray. "You're without peer, Kyoya."
The blond had a second to see that nail curve, slightly, before Hibari leapt.
The blow to his skull left him nearly unconscious, blood oozing from his temple in a warm line, and his head hit something hard in the moment he landed. He drew in a startled breath, and struggled to roll away, only to discover that his whip (earlier coiled around his left hand) had somehow gotten tangled in his left leg, and strung around his neck, besides. He resisted the urge to call out Romario!, because, well, he was a man, too, and had some semblance of pride; he went still, not wanting to suffocate himself with his own weapon, and tried to move his other hand, only to discover that it had been pinned to the ground by a pale, spider-thin fist.
A tonfa clattered to the ground beside his head, and Dino had a moment to see it, wet with his own blood, before the second of those tenacious, fragile-looking hands pressed itself down atop his eyelids.
"Kyo - " he started to say, breathlessly, before teeth connected with his parted lips, and he accidentally bit down on his tongue. (And girls had loved that tongue, too, whether it was the way it had stumbled over words when he was younger or stroked over their bodies as he grew a little bit older. If it were the army, he could have retired with a purple heart, but he'd been strong-armed into a less...law-abiding echelon of society, and, well, there one had it.) Dino mmmph'd, and wondered for a moment why the hell Hibari had decided to kill him by biting his face off.
Only - that hand was still over his eyes, so he couldn't be sure - it wasn't quite like biting, more like...an extremely inexperienced sort of kissing, and - oh, God. His shoulders shook, from something that was either silent laughter or sudden terror. The blond struggled to moderate his breathing. His head swam.
"What was your point?" Dino heard, muttered tersely, into his right ear, as the teeth digging pinpricks into his lips chose then to move away; he understood, suddenly, what that nail digging into the dirt had meant. He understood a hell of a lot more than he had understood from the last five minutes, at least. He tried not to laugh as he replied:
"That against your best efforts and wishes, Kyoya, I came to understand you, a little. That's all."
And then there were legs straddling him, stick-thin (did he eat right, that kid? Anything other than hamburgers and rice?), and knees on his wrists, and Dino struggled to breathe around the tautness of his whip. He used to speak, jokingly, of how these crazy foreign kids would one day be the death of him, but he'd never honestly thought it to be true. With his legs free, he kicked patterns in the dirt; a reflex, if there ever was one; he wasn't actually trying to get away. He'd poked too far, and it was his job to ride this out to the end.
Above him, there was the distinct noise of a zipper being drawn down.
Against his better judgement, Dino blanched; struggled, a bit, choking himself for a minute as he wondered how far the hell away Romario and the real Hibari Kyoya had went. (Because this was just ludicrous. All this, from a boy who was born from the birds but dined with the wolves? A bite that was more like a kiss was one thing, but...)
His hair was jerked, fisted, and his head was drawn up, the smell of sweat and something musky tickling from above him. The blond retracted all of his earlier statements and desires: there was nothing soft or misunderstood about this particular young man; he did what he wanted, when he wanted it, and with no regard for the consequences. (Oh, to be young again.) Something warm and stiff poked against his cheek, and he, a grown goddamned man, for shit's sake! - struggled to keep his embarrassment from showing on his face.
"Uh...not that I don't admire your technique, and all - splitting my head clear open is a pretty efficient tactic to get me down onto the ground - but, uh..." He barely managed to snap his jaw shut in time. He was clouted on the temple again, hard.
"Open your mouth," Hibari ordered, voice a low, clipped murmur, and Dino took a moment to ponder the consequences of each subsequent action and reaction. Either way, he was probably going to die. The thought was disheartening. But...
Well, if one were to ask the petite prince Fuuta, it would probably rank as absolute last on the list of possible things to result from the current scenario.
But it was on the list, regardless. 'Without peer', hunh? It must have been terribly lonely.
"Hey, Kyoya, what sorts of things do you see in the clouds?" Dino asked, smiling, and stretched his jaw out wide.
The first thrust nearly made him gag. He probably would have thrown up, honestly, if there hadn't been a warm, solid erection currently blocking the passage of any potential bile from his esophagus to his mouth. He jerked, working his pinned wrist free, and got a hand around one of the black-haired boy's pale, jutting hips, pushing back enough to give himself room to breathe. Not an ounce of self-restraint; he was Romulus, then, never thinking twice about slaying his own kin for the pointless sin of breaching his walls. Dino felt suddenly like he didn't understand anything about this kid at all.
He tried, though. He tried damn hard. He was a klutz at this, all teeth and no tongue, with a hard-on rising slowly from the depths of his own jeans, but Hibari seemed not to mind any of it, breath coming in a long, drawn-out hiss, hips rolling with the movement of a marching army. The results were different than what he expected, but strangely, Dino didn't care. Maybe it came from years of hindsight - whenever people like Hibari pushed, there was always a string of people left being pulled along in their wake. Maybe he'd just wanted to be dragged along by something other than himself, for a change?
But - a jerk, two thrusts more, and Hibari came into his mouth, hard, harder than it seemed; for all his legs shook, slightly, and his hand curved crescents into the sides of Dino's right eye, he hardly made a sound, other than to let out a breath akin to the ones that people make after they have just finished drinking something bitter; which - (Dino sputtered, and blew breath frantically out of his nose as the shorter boy held his head firmly in place, forcing him to swallow) - if anyone should have had that right, it should have been him. He thought to complain - jerked his head back, forcefully, as a matter of fact, with the intent.
But Hibari loosed his hand, gone slightly damp with sweat, and loosed his grip, and rolled placidly away, sun speckling his cheeks through the leaves of the sycamore and giving him a bit of color, at last. Painstakingly, Dino opened his eyes, gradually growing accustomed again to the light of midday, and he sat up, drawing his knees to his chest in an attempt to hide the stiffness between his legs, but the black-haired boy had his eyes closed, and probably wouldn't have said anything even if he hadn't. Dino untangled himself from the coils of his whip, laughing ruefully a bit at his own clumsiness, and wondered if he'd ever be able to do anything on his own.
(Lonely that way, though, wasn't it?)
He licked his lips clean, and said with a smile, "One day, Kyoya. One day, you will do something grand."
Six hours, and sixty-six men. Two more, and about twenty left to go. Meanwhile, miles away, the cursed baby and his brats race through metal hallways in an attempt to find the piece of the puzzle they've left behind. Meanwhile, closer than he'd like, Rokudo Mukuro's shadow sleeps fitfully on, fighting for the life which she has never thought of as hers.
A bevelled nunchaku slams into his arm, and he hears the bone crack. Grinding his teeth into his cheek, he swings that arm in a wide arc, sending his tonfa spiralling with it - since he can't use it, he might as well use it - and it takes down three of the enemy, in a brisk, business-like way. For once, he gets no satisfaction out of the way their eyes bulge, and their noses spew blood.
"One day, you'll do something grand."
He drops to a knee, blood pouring from his broken arm. It pours from other broken bits, as well, places he tries not to think about so much because they're places he can live without. For example, he'd never had much use for his pelvic bone, anyway. (Just one, as a matter of fact.)
Something grand, he thinks, as he struggles once more to his feet, would be the expulsion of these idiots, and three dozen more, and any others that might come after. Something grand, he thinks, as his feet slip, painfully, in the puddle of his own blood, would be seeing the clouds look like clouds, for a change, instead of the things that people want them to be.
But the truth is, he never learned how to swim.
AN: Ahahahaha orz way to randomly make this the most depressing thing I've read all day, self. *epic fail* Apparently even listening to TMR's "Billion" album couldn't stop me from angsting the shit out of this. Uh, sorry, yamikakyuu? It occurs to me that you didn't specify whether you wanted this to be happy or angsty, and I should have asked. *sigh*
In other news, that last section was barbarically OOC. But it wraps up all of those annoying recurring themes, so there it stays. Enjoy your sort-of Hibari character study, Yami. ♥ (Don't see how you possibly COULD, but oh well.)