mithas
in
inquietare
The Long Way of Illusions [Hibari/Gokudera]
Title: The Long Way of Illusions
Series: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Type: m/m
Pairing: Hibari/Gokudera
Notes: This was basically written as a means to break a 3-year dry spell. I didn't want to jump into everyone's fic requests with disgustingly bad writing. I know I mentioned I would most likely be writing YamaGoku outside of requests anyway, but Hibari found it fit to prove me wrong. In retrospect, this fic is all Mukuro's fault.
Hibari is at his finest at the wake of destruction, the thrum of battle the deafening grate of steel against steel. The fight is not one-sided (never again since that first time), a blow returned for each one received. Mukuro's laughter is the mocking rasp of a tonfa caught in mid-strike, the trident glints mere inches from Hibari's eyes.
Another strike, a counter and then they stand meters apart. The pavement gleams darkly with spilt blood. The sun hovers low on the western sky, an hour no less since they'd first began. Mukuro looks askance, not at his opponent and Hibari's grip on his weapons tighten at the arrogance.
Mukuro turns to him as though sensing his ire, an infuriating smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Shall I show you something interesting before nightfall, Hibari Kyouya?"
"Go to hell." He is in motion before the words are fully out, a blow meant to disable aimed from above.
Mukuro watches, smirk still in place. His right eye glitters an angry red.
Footsteps, a scuffle, something hits the chain fence, the noise loud and innocuous.
The tonfa whistles through air, -
"Dino!"
- a millisecond of surprise. Mukuro moves.
"You goddamned perv! Watch where your hands are touching!"
The brunt of the attack grazes past Mukuro's cheek.
Hibari looks up, jaws clenched.
"Weak," Mukuro mocks, as the butt of his trident connects with Hibari's ribs, knocking him back. The strike barely misses his vital point.
"I suppose it's no fun when you're distracted." Mukuro looks pointedly to the side, the source of distraction.
Hibari rises to his feet, gaze following Mukuro's own despite himself.
"He looks rather fetching in a skirt," Mukuro proffers amiably as the fence rattles. "A shame, don't you think? They look surprisingly well together."
"Don't go making up your own fantasies, illusionist bastard," Hibari grinds out, his glare promising a thousand shades of hell. A flick of his wrists and a dozen razor sharp spikes appear on his tonfas. "I'll seriously bite you to death."
A shorter distance, a shorter gap to fill, a blow meant to kill from below.
"Time's up."
Reality warps, visibly this time, and the blow shudders to a stop a hairsbreadth away from its target.
"Hibari-san," Chrome speaks; eyes wide, cold steel tickle her skin as she swallows. The trident clatters to the ground.
Hibari withdraws, the spikes disappearing with an audible click. He looks around. The rooftop is empty save for them.
"Leave," he addresses Chrome coldly, fury simmering beneath the surface, "before I change my mind."
He watches as she hurries past him, fists tightly clenched. He really wants to hit something.
The Cavallone family's apartment is not a place Hibari visits often. Yet Dino's men know him well enough (the Vongola guardians are almost family after all) to allow him passage with no questions asked.
He is led to the study, where Dino is gathered with a handful of his men. The flow of conversation ceases as Hibari is ushered in.
"Hibari," Dino greets him with his customary smile. "This is rather rare."
Hibari does not bother to return the greeting as he makes his way forward. Hibird instead, perched as it was on his shoulder, sings the Namimori school anthem as greeting to the small congregation.
Dino starts to rise at his approach. He does not have to. The difference in their ranks, even within their respective families, did not require the courtesy of such a greeting.
Hibari does not wait for him to get to his feet. The impact thrills a course to the base of his spine, the flutter of Hibird's wings brushing once against his ear just as Dino hits the opposite wall.
"That," Dino says, holding a hand up to stay his men, blood welling at the corner of his mouth, "is kind of cheating."
Hibari ignores the guns pointed at him, each one of Dino's men prepared to pull the trigger if need be. He spins his tonfa around as he points it at Dino. "Stay away from what's mine, Cavallone." His voice is low, but the threat is absolute.
"Eh?!" Dino's reaction is both bewildered and immediate, with its fair share of indignance as he scrambles to his feet.
Hibari leaves in the midst of Dino's demands for an explanation.
Dusk has given way to full dark by the time he arrives at Gokudera's doorstep. He grows impatient even though it only takes a minute before the door is flung open.
Gokudera gives him a quick once over. "You're bleeding on my doorstep," he grouses, clearly displeased. The scent of gunpowder lingers faintly in the air.
Hibari thrusts a paper bag at him. "I got you a present to make up for it."
Gokudera has the grace to look momentarily surprised before turning suspicious as he eyes the 'gift' with trepidation. "What the hell could you possib-" the words die in his throat as a skirt - the type the girls from their school wear - dangles obscenely from his hand.
"Mukuro thought you looked good in it," Hibari offers in a deadpan.
The explosion is instantaneous and Hibari barely has time to get his tonfa jammed between the doorway as Gokudera attempts to slam it in his face.
A quick shove and he's inside, too predictable he thinks.
"Perverso fottuto!"1 Gokudera is absolutely livid, having reverted back to his native tongue. Hibari understands very little, though he's sure none of them are flattering, and the door finally closes with Gokudera's weight pressed up against it.
"Maledizione. Molla, bastardo!"2 His accent grows thicker with each word spoken, and Hibari takes a moment to admire the charming lilt to it (he probably should get him this angry more often), "Se vorresti una puttana, basta fottar--"3, before deciding to shut him up.
A heartbeat, two, Hibari licks the inside of Gokudera's mouth as the words die down; three, fingers slide underneath cloth to press against hot skin. Four, a gasp, swallowed; five, six, a thigh presses up between the other's legs. Seven, a cut on his cheek reopens, a fist to his face an abrupt end to the kiss.
"Asshole," Gokudera hisses out, presses the back of his hand to his mouth. "You're a fucking piece of work," having finally gotten a good look at Hibari with the light from the hallway.
"I need a bath," Hibari replies calmly as he shrugs his prefect jacket off.
"Go home then!" Gokudera snaps. His fingers twitch to hit him again.
Hibari is silent as he makes his way down the familiar hallway. The jacket is flung over the back of a chair as he passes.
"Make yourself at home," Gokudera drips sarcasm, angrily snatching up the shirt Hibari drops on the floor.
"Leave it," Hibari says as he turns to face him, pants already undone. He ignores the resulting stream of curses as he takes the disgruntled boy by the wrist and leads them toward the bathroom. Fuck the skirt, he prefers Gokudera without anything on anyway.
--------------
Notes:
1 - "Fucking pervert!"
2 - "Damnit. Let go, bastard!"
3 - "If you wanted a goddamn whore you can just go and fuck yourse--" was the original dialogue, I believe it changes a bit in Italian, but you get the idea.
The original text was written so that it didn't have any Italian dialogue in it, but Debi (who betad for me) demanded that I put some in. So there you have it. Much love to Em and Do-An who let me bother them at work to translate said phrases for me. ♥
Series: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Type: m/m
Pairing: Hibari/Gokudera
Notes: This was basically written as a means to break a 3-year dry spell. I didn't want to jump into everyone's fic requests with disgustingly bad writing. I know I mentioned I would most likely be writing YamaGoku outside of requests anyway, but Hibari found it fit to prove me wrong. In retrospect, this fic is all Mukuro's fault.
Hibari is at his finest at the wake of destruction, the thrum of battle the deafening grate of steel against steel. The fight is not one-sided (never again since that first time), a blow returned for each one received. Mukuro's laughter is the mocking rasp of a tonfa caught in mid-strike, the trident glints mere inches from Hibari's eyes.
Another strike, a counter and then they stand meters apart. The pavement gleams darkly with spilt blood. The sun hovers low on the western sky, an hour no less since they'd first began. Mukuro looks askance, not at his opponent and Hibari's grip on his weapons tighten at the arrogance.
Mukuro turns to him as though sensing his ire, an infuriating smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Shall I show you something interesting before nightfall, Hibari Kyouya?"
"Go to hell." He is in motion before the words are fully out, a blow meant to disable aimed from above.
Mukuro watches, smirk still in place. His right eye glitters an angry red.
Footsteps, a scuffle, something hits the chain fence, the noise loud and innocuous.
The tonfa whistles through air, -
"Dino!"
- a millisecond of surprise. Mukuro moves.
"You goddamned perv! Watch where your hands are touching!"
The brunt of the attack grazes past Mukuro's cheek.
Hibari looks up, jaws clenched.
"Weak," Mukuro mocks, as the butt of his trident connects with Hibari's ribs, knocking him back. The strike barely misses his vital point.
"I suppose it's no fun when you're distracted." Mukuro looks pointedly to the side, the source of distraction.
Hibari rises to his feet, gaze following Mukuro's own despite himself.
"He looks rather fetching in a skirt," Mukuro proffers amiably as the fence rattles. "A shame, don't you think? They look surprisingly well together."
"Don't go making up your own fantasies, illusionist bastard," Hibari grinds out, his glare promising a thousand shades of hell. A flick of his wrists and a dozen razor sharp spikes appear on his tonfas. "I'll seriously bite you to death."
A shorter distance, a shorter gap to fill, a blow meant to kill from below.
"Time's up."
Reality warps, visibly this time, and the blow shudders to a stop a hairsbreadth away from its target.
"Hibari-san," Chrome speaks; eyes wide, cold steel tickle her skin as she swallows. The trident clatters to the ground.
Hibari withdraws, the spikes disappearing with an audible click. He looks around. The rooftop is empty save for them.
"Leave," he addresses Chrome coldly, fury simmering beneath the surface, "before I change my mind."
He watches as she hurries past him, fists tightly clenched. He really wants to hit something.
The Cavallone family's apartment is not a place Hibari visits often. Yet Dino's men know him well enough (the Vongola guardians are almost family after all) to allow him passage with no questions asked.
He is led to the study, where Dino is gathered with a handful of his men. The flow of conversation ceases as Hibari is ushered in.
"Hibari," Dino greets him with his customary smile. "This is rather rare."
Hibari does not bother to return the greeting as he makes his way forward. Hibird instead, perched as it was on his shoulder, sings the Namimori school anthem as greeting to the small congregation.
Dino starts to rise at his approach. He does not have to. The difference in their ranks, even within their respective families, did not require the courtesy of such a greeting.
Hibari does not wait for him to get to his feet. The impact thrills a course to the base of his spine, the flutter of Hibird's wings brushing once against his ear just as Dino hits the opposite wall.
"That," Dino says, holding a hand up to stay his men, blood welling at the corner of his mouth, "is kind of cheating."
Hibari ignores the guns pointed at him, each one of Dino's men prepared to pull the trigger if need be. He spins his tonfa around as he points it at Dino. "Stay away from what's mine, Cavallone." His voice is low, but the threat is absolute.
"Eh?!" Dino's reaction is both bewildered and immediate, with its fair share of indignance as he scrambles to his feet.
Hibari leaves in the midst of Dino's demands for an explanation.
Dusk has given way to full dark by the time he arrives at Gokudera's doorstep. He grows impatient even though it only takes a minute before the door is flung open.
Gokudera gives him a quick once over. "You're bleeding on my doorstep," he grouses, clearly displeased. The scent of gunpowder lingers faintly in the air.
Hibari thrusts a paper bag at him. "I got you a present to make up for it."
Gokudera has the grace to look momentarily surprised before turning suspicious as he eyes the 'gift' with trepidation. "What the hell could you possib-" the words die in his throat as a skirt - the type the girls from their school wear - dangles obscenely from his hand.
"Mukuro thought you looked good in it," Hibari offers in a deadpan.
The explosion is instantaneous and Hibari barely has time to get his tonfa jammed between the doorway as Gokudera attempts to slam it in his face.
A quick shove and he's inside, too predictable he thinks.
"Perverso fottuto!"1 Gokudera is absolutely livid, having reverted back to his native tongue. Hibari understands very little, though he's sure none of them are flattering, and the door finally closes with Gokudera's weight pressed up against it.
"Maledizione. Molla, bastardo!"2 His accent grows thicker with each word spoken, and Hibari takes a moment to admire the charming lilt to it (he probably should get him this angry more often), "Se vorresti una puttana, basta fottar--"3, before deciding to shut him up.
A heartbeat, two, Hibari licks the inside of Gokudera's mouth as the words die down; three, fingers slide underneath cloth to press against hot skin. Four, a gasp, swallowed; five, six, a thigh presses up between the other's legs. Seven, a cut on his cheek reopens, a fist to his face an abrupt end to the kiss.
"Asshole," Gokudera hisses out, presses the back of his hand to his mouth. "You're a fucking piece of work," having finally gotten a good look at Hibari with the light from the hallway.
"I need a bath," Hibari replies calmly as he shrugs his prefect jacket off.
"Go home then!" Gokudera snaps. His fingers twitch to hit him again.
Hibari is silent as he makes his way down the familiar hallway. The jacket is flung over the back of a chair as he passes.
"Make yourself at home," Gokudera drips sarcasm, angrily snatching up the shirt Hibari drops on the floor.
"Leave it," Hibari says as he turns to face him, pants already undone. He ignores the resulting stream of curses as he takes the disgruntled boy by the wrist and leads them toward the bathroom. Fuck the skirt, he prefers Gokudera without anything on anyway.
--------------
Notes:
1 - "Fucking pervert!"
2 - "Damnit. Let go, bastard!"
3 - "If you wanted a goddamn whore you can just go and fuck yourse--" was the original dialogue, I believe it changes a bit in Italian, but you get the idea.
The original text was written so that it didn't have any Italian dialogue in it, but Debi (who betad for me) demanded that I put some in. So there you have it. Much love to Em and Do-An who let me bother them at work to translate said phrases for me. ♥