Into the Silence { 6918 }
Notes: I wrote this for a writing competition on GaiaOnline and since I usually share all of my work here, I figured I'd post it here as well, even if I don't win the competition. I'm just happy to have written something.
Title: Into the Silence
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Rokudo Mukuro/Hibari Kyoya { 6918 }
Prompt: Wintermarket by ~svenart
Rating: pg - very minor sexual reference
Words: 880 words
Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! as it is the property of Akira Amano; this is just a work of fiction and nothing was made by me by writing this. Happy? I also don't own the image that was used as the inspiration for this little fic; it was given as part of the competition and is the owner of its respective artist.
Into the Silence
He likes peace and quiet. But given the sort of life he leads means that he doesn't get that very often. Though, he doesn't mind so much because usually can take out that frustration at having to hang around a bunch of weaklings during his missions, but sometimes a little bit of normalcy is nice too; even though he doesn't seem like the type.
But who was he kidding? Nothing about him is normal; nothing about them is normal either. He's in love - and he shuddered to use that word - with Mukuro; that is the farthest thing from normal that there is.
For Hibari, as lovely and peaceful as Italy was, nothing could compare with Namimori. Although, he has to admit that Paris is a very nice city too. He likes the atmosphere, especially at that moment since it's the middle of a chilly winter and there weren't as many people out as there normally would have been. Apparently, Paris in winter wasn't a very popular vacation spot.
But this was Mukuro's idea, and who was Hibari to say no? He surprisingly has no backbone when it comes to the illusionist, because Mukuro was able to talk him into going on a vacation of all things by dressing it up as a bit of a mission.
And he fell for it.
Well, there was no use bemoaning the past. He was there, so he might as well make the best of it. And it wasn't too bad, he could think of any number of more annoying places that he could have been at that moment. Mukuro, at least, doesn't try to fill the silences with unnecessary talk, only sometimes remarking on something that catches his eye in one of the many vendors stalls that they pass.
It was something unique; a market in the dead of winter around the cathedral of Notre Dame. Hibari does have to admit that it has its draw. The people are all bundled up - just like them - and mostly keep to themselves.
There were a lot of lovers about; couples branching off together in the swirling snow, and Hibari is surprisingly very occupied with watching all of them. He never chalked himself up as much of a people watcher, but he found that he was actually looking for tips or ideas of some kind for his own relationship.
'We're not that unusual,' he tells himself. And maybe that's true; at least he and Mukuro clicked together like two pieces of a very twisted puzzle, but at least they fit. There were, after all, some pretty strange pair-ups within their little 'family.' He wouldn't have stayed with Mukuro if he didn't feel something for the other, and if he couldn't stand him? Then the illusionist would have been dead very fast and then his body would have been quickly disposed of.
His musings were interrupted when a gloved hand slipped around his mittened one, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as he was led over to a particular booth that the illusionist seemed to have been eyeing for quite some time.
Even though he wasn't interested, Hibari let the illusionist pull him along, grumbling lightly about him not being some girl that didn't need to be shown the way; he could walk for himself.
To that, Mukuro chuckled, "I'm quite aware of your lack of femininity, Kyoya. You made that quite clear to me last night."
He couldn't help but blush; Mukuro has the nasty ability to make him feel embarrassment and then show it, which he absolutely hates.
But still, he stays with him. There are too many reasons why he does and not enough for him to leave him. His subordinates would disagree, but that was more because of the fact that they didn't like nor approve of Mukuro than judging it based on any actual fact about him or their relationship. Hibari had long since learned to ignore them.
Mukuro was speaking with the vendor; his French both fluid and rapid, with only the barest trace of an accent. It doesn't surprise Hibari that he speaks French too; he doesn't believe that there isn't a language out there that Mukuro doesn't speak.
After a few moments, he turns away from the vendor, pressing a cup of what smells very much like tea. He stares down at the covered styrafoam for several moments before looking to Mukuro for an explanation; he doesn't speak French.
"It's tea, silly," Mukuro replied, smirking. "I know that you have a surprisingly low tolerance for alcohol and you're not particularly fond of it either. I think that after living together for so long, I'd pick up on what you don't like and what you do."
It's a simple explanation, and one Hibari accepted. He lifted the cup and took a sip; the scalding liquid burned his tongue, so he glared at the mug.
"You're so cute when you do that."
That earned Mukuro a glare, but the illusionist easily dismissed it.
"Maybe try waiting for it to cool down a bit, we still have a bit to see, so take your time."
"Fine." Hibari didn't try to remove his hand from Mukuro's, and instead let the younger man tug him further along the stall-lined road.
FIN.
Um, comment?
Twilight.
Title: Into the Silence
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Rokudo Mukuro/Hibari Kyoya { 6918 }
Prompt: Wintermarket by ~svenart
Rating: pg - very minor sexual reference
Words: 880 words
Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! as it is the property of Akira Amano; this is just a work of fiction and nothing was made by me by writing this. Happy? I also don't own the image that was used as the inspiration for this little fic; it was given as part of the competition and is the owner of its respective artist.
Into the Silence
He likes peace and quiet. But given the sort of life he leads means that he doesn't get that very often. Though, he doesn't mind so much because usually can take out that frustration at having to hang around a bunch of weaklings during his missions, but sometimes a little bit of normalcy is nice too; even though he doesn't seem like the type.
But who was he kidding? Nothing about him is normal; nothing about them is normal either. He's in love - and he shuddered to use that word - with Mukuro; that is the farthest thing from normal that there is.
For Hibari, as lovely and peaceful as Italy was, nothing could compare with Namimori. Although, he has to admit that Paris is a very nice city too. He likes the atmosphere, especially at that moment since it's the middle of a chilly winter and there weren't as many people out as there normally would have been. Apparently, Paris in winter wasn't a very popular vacation spot.
But this was Mukuro's idea, and who was Hibari to say no? He surprisingly has no backbone when it comes to the illusionist, because Mukuro was able to talk him into going on a vacation of all things by dressing it up as a bit of a mission.
And he fell for it.
Well, there was no use bemoaning the past. He was there, so he might as well make the best of it. And it wasn't too bad, he could think of any number of more annoying places that he could have been at that moment. Mukuro, at least, doesn't try to fill the silences with unnecessary talk, only sometimes remarking on something that catches his eye in one of the many vendors stalls that they pass.
It was something unique; a market in the dead of winter around the cathedral of Notre Dame. Hibari does have to admit that it has its draw. The people are all bundled up - just like them - and mostly keep to themselves.
There were a lot of lovers about; couples branching off together in the swirling snow, and Hibari is surprisingly very occupied with watching all of them. He never chalked himself up as much of a people watcher, but he found that he was actually looking for tips or ideas of some kind for his own relationship.
'We're not that unusual,' he tells himself. And maybe that's true; at least he and Mukuro clicked together like two pieces of a very twisted puzzle, but at least they fit. There were, after all, some pretty strange pair-ups within their little 'family.' He wouldn't have stayed with Mukuro if he didn't feel something for the other, and if he couldn't stand him? Then the illusionist would have been dead very fast and then his body would have been quickly disposed of.
His musings were interrupted when a gloved hand slipped around his mittened one, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as he was led over to a particular booth that the illusionist seemed to have been eyeing for quite some time.
Even though he wasn't interested, Hibari let the illusionist pull him along, grumbling lightly about him not being some girl that didn't need to be shown the way; he could walk for himself.
To that, Mukuro chuckled, "I'm quite aware of your lack of femininity, Kyoya. You made that quite clear to me last night."
He couldn't help but blush; Mukuro has the nasty ability to make him feel embarrassment and then show it, which he absolutely hates.
But still, he stays with him. There are too many reasons why he does and not enough for him to leave him. His subordinates would disagree, but that was more because of the fact that they didn't like nor approve of Mukuro than judging it based on any actual fact about him or their relationship. Hibari had long since learned to ignore them.
Mukuro was speaking with the vendor; his French both fluid and rapid, with only the barest trace of an accent. It doesn't surprise Hibari that he speaks French too; he doesn't believe that there isn't a language out there that Mukuro doesn't speak.
After a few moments, he turns away from the vendor, pressing a cup of what smells very much like tea. He stares down at the covered styrafoam for several moments before looking to Mukuro for an explanation; he doesn't speak French.
"It's tea, silly," Mukuro replied, smirking. "I know that you have a surprisingly low tolerance for alcohol and you're not particularly fond of it either. I think that after living together for so long, I'd pick up on what you don't like and what you do."
It's a simple explanation, and one Hibari accepted. He lifted the cup and took a sip; the scalding liquid burned his tongue, so he glared at the mug.
"You're so cute when you do that."
That earned Mukuro a glare, but the illusionist easily dismissed it.
"Maybe try waiting for it to cool down a bit, we still have a bit to see, so take your time."
"Fine." Hibari didn't try to remove his hand from Mukuro's, and instead let the younger man tug him further along the stall-lined road.
FIN.
Um, comment?
Twilight.