This is so random...RyoheiXHibari
I promised cleartempest porn, but then I watched "Atonement" and I wanted to write some tragedy. So...tragic porn, maybe?
Unspoken
The moon shone overhead in the midnight sky, blanketing Namimori in soft, revealing light. But deep in the bowels of the Vongola base, no light shone to disturb the denizens of their underground kingdom. Hidden from prying eyes, they could plot, train, sleep in peace, waiting for the day they could stand in the sunlight once more. It was a place made for keeping secrets.
Wrapped in darkness, Hibari groaned at the feel of heavy weight against him, the strong solid warmth of muscles honed through years of boxing and fighting. Ryohei was impatient, his hands already sliding beneath Hibari’s robe, bandages on skin, his mouth pressed insistently to the soft flesh of his throat.
“Get…off…me…” Hibari snarled softly, as Ryohei bit his collarbone, but he couldn’t do much, because after all these years Sasagawa had finally learned to pin his hands and all he could do was writhe against the man on top of him. Impatiently, Ryohei pushed one of his legs out of the way and reached down to wrap his hands around Hibari and squeeze roughly, bandages on stiffening flesh.
“Hibari…” Ryohei whispered. “Hibari…Hibari, what are we going to do?” He sounded worried, even in the middle of sex; never before has he demanded advice or reassurance from Hibari like this.
Hibari stared at him through slitted eyes, his pale flesh flushed red and pink from Ryohei’s teeth. He paused, for a moment, to admire the strong curve of Hibari’s hip beneath his hands, the thin delicate bones so like a bird’s and he loosens his grip just for a moment, but that’s all Hibari needs. In a flash he threw a slender leg over Ryohei’s hip and rolled him onto his back, pinning him with his hips and throwing his robe wide open to reveal his sweat-slick chest, pale as the moon outside, chiseled from hard marble, and Ryohei remembeed exactly who he is dealing with.
“You…” Hibari hissed, ripping impatiently at Ryohei’s belt. “…are an idiot.”
“Wait…Hibari…” Ryohei struggled for a moment to try and free himself, thrashing blindly against Hibari and trapping himself beneath his firm cock. At the sudden bucking motion Hibari groaned again, and sudden heat spilled against Ryohei through his boxers.
“We’re going to do whatever we have to do,” Hibari’s voice sounded strained and angry, like a petulant child; he tugged at Ryohei’s boxers with sudden determination. Unable to remove them without shifting position, Hibari bent and set his teeth against one of the seams and pulled, ripping the fabric to pieces and putting his head dangerously close to the more tender parts of Ryohei’s anatomy. Paralyzed with terror, Ryohei could only watch as Hibari bent and wrapped his already hard cock gently with his mouth, and bit, very very gently, sliding his hands down Ryohei’s chest to sink his fingertips in his hips in a painful contrast and making him thrust against Hibari.
They moved together in the darkness, slowly and painfully, Hibari provoking, Ryohei reacting, all the familiar cues in the right places, reassuring themselves and each other that at least this had no changed, at least this was the same, despite death and hardship and separation. Finally Ryohei comes, in the flood of pain and blood that is Hibari, the muscles of his legs marked with the cut imprints of Hibari’s teeth. Hibari grins lazily, and wipes his hands and mouth on the remnants of Ryohei’s boxers to lay his head on the other man’s stomach.
“They’re just kids,” Ryohei insisted, unwilling to give up the point. Hibari sighed angrily but refused to speak, because it’s already a dead issue. They are here, therefore they fight and die like the rest of them.
When the alarm goes off that night, it startles them from sleep. For a moment they stare at each other, wordlessly in the dark, before making a dash for clothes, suits, weapons, whatever they can get their hands on. But not each other. Each ignores the others’ presence, the moment of any sort of tenderness or feeling long since past. This is war; they cannot afford to be sentimental. At a crossroads they part, Hibari to engage the enemy, Ryohei to lead the family of the past to the Millefiore base, without exchanging a word. Ryohei thinks briefly that Hibari is right-they are going to do what they have to do, whatever it takes-before the night swallows him up in the heat of battle, while Hibari breaks heads and does what he has to do, to protect himself and the family.
Until the rushing tide of enemies pulls Hibari under.
Notes: I hope I got plot in here somewhere...I tried.
Unspoken
The moon shone overhead in the midnight sky, blanketing Namimori in soft, revealing light. But deep in the bowels of the Vongola base, no light shone to disturb the denizens of their underground kingdom. Hidden from prying eyes, they could plot, train, sleep in peace, waiting for the day they could stand in the sunlight once more. It was a place made for keeping secrets.
Wrapped in darkness, Hibari groaned at the feel of heavy weight against him, the strong solid warmth of muscles honed through years of boxing and fighting. Ryohei was impatient, his hands already sliding beneath Hibari’s robe, bandages on skin, his mouth pressed insistently to the soft flesh of his throat.
“Get…off…me…” Hibari snarled softly, as Ryohei bit his collarbone, but he couldn’t do much, because after all these years Sasagawa had finally learned to pin his hands and all he could do was writhe against the man on top of him. Impatiently, Ryohei pushed one of his legs out of the way and reached down to wrap his hands around Hibari and squeeze roughly, bandages on stiffening flesh.
“Hibari…” Ryohei whispered. “Hibari…Hibari, what are we going to do?” He sounded worried, even in the middle of sex; never before has he demanded advice or reassurance from Hibari like this.
Hibari stared at him through slitted eyes, his pale flesh flushed red and pink from Ryohei’s teeth. He paused, for a moment, to admire the strong curve of Hibari’s hip beneath his hands, the thin delicate bones so like a bird’s and he loosens his grip just for a moment, but that’s all Hibari needs. In a flash he threw a slender leg over Ryohei’s hip and rolled him onto his back, pinning him with his hips and throwing his robe wide open to reveal his sweat-slick chest, pale as the moon outside, chiseled from hard marble, and Ryohei remembeed exactly who he is dealing with.
“You…” Hibari hissed, ripping impatiently at Ryohei’s belt. “…are an idiot.”
“Wait…Hibari…” Ryohei struggled for a moment to try and free himself, thrashing blindly against Hibari and trapping himself beneath his firm cock. At the sudden bucking motion Hibari groaned again, and sudden heat spilled against Ryohei through his boxers.
“We’re going to do whatever we have to do,” Hibari’s voice sounded strained and angry, like a petulant child; he tugged at Ryohei’s boxers with sudden determination. Unable to remove them without shifting position, Hibari bent and set his teeth against one of the seams and pulled, ripping the fabric to pieces and putting his head dangerously close to the more tender parts of Ryohei’s anatomy. Paralyzed with terror, Ryohei could only watch as Hibari bent and wrapped his already hard cock gently with his mouth, and bit, very very gently, sliding his hands down Ryohei’s chest to sink his fingertips in his hips in a painful contrast and making him thrust against Hibari.
They moved together in the darkness, slowly and painfully, Hibari provoking, Ryohei reacting, all the familiar cues in the right places, reassuring themselves and each other that at least this had no changed, at least this was the same, despite death and hardship and separation. Finally Ryohei comes, in the flood of pain and blood that is Hibari, the muscles of his legs marked with the cut imprints of Hibari’s teeth. Hibari grins lazily, and wipes his hands and mouth on the remnants of Ryohei’s boxers to lay his head on the other man’s stomach.
“They’re just kids,” Ryohei insisted, unwilling to give up the point. Hibari sighed angrily but refused to speak, because it’s already a dead issue. They are here, therefore they fight and die like the rest of them.
When the alarm goes off that night, it startles them from sleep. For a moment they stare at each other, wordlessly in the dark, before making a dash for clothes, suits, weapons, whatever they can get their hands on. But not each other. Each ignores the others’ presence, the moment of any sort of tenderness or feeling long since past. This is war; they cannot afford to be sentimental. At a crossroads they part, Hibari to engage the enemy, Ryohei to lead the family of the past to the Millefiore base, without exchanging a word. Ryohei thinks briefly that Hibari is right-they are going to do what they have to do, whatever it takes-before the night swallows him up in the heat of battle, while Hibari breaks heads and does what he has to do, to protect himself and the family.
Until the rushing tide of enemies pulls Hibari under.
Notes: I hope I got plot in here somewhere...I tried.