(no subject)
Title: Grief Management
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Dino/Hibari
Rating: R (for language and implied sexuality)
Word Count: 1100
Warnings: Spoilers for the Future Arc; in second-person POV.
Notes: Totally ripped off from inspired by theburningempty.
No one has heard from the tenth boss of the Cavallone Family in weeks, and it makes you antsy.
You spar a little too fiercely with Ryohei, sending him to the infirmary for days. You don't attend the Family strategy meetings, instead sending Kusakabe in your place. You don't talk to Kusakabe about missions. You just pack up one morning and disappear for three nights. You come back exhausted and empty-handed.
You don't tell anyone that you'd gone to Italy, or why, but you suspect that they know. And you don't tell them what you find there. You don't tell them about the bombed-out Cavallone compound weakly disguised by a Mist barrier. You don't tell them about the proprietor of the bar the two of you would go to when you were in the country, the way the man scurried into the back when he saw you , afraid to give you whatever information he had. You don't tell them because it doesn't mean anything. For as much of a klutz as Dino Cavallone is, he's also fucking strong, and he and his men probably made it out of town before the Millefiore hit hard.
The first two nights, you stay in the hotel where you first fucked, after the Rings battle, all strung out on your adrenaline and his concern, his pride. You followed him back to Italy, wanting to fight him some more. And you tried not to look surprised when he wound his whip around you, pressed you up against a wall, and kissed you. You tried not to look surprised that you kissed back. This isn't the same room, though, not the same room where he stripped you down, young thing that you were, young thing that he was. This isn't the same room, but it doesn't matter. They all look the same.
The third night, you go back to that bar, order a glass of dark red wine, a sharp one that tastes metallic on your tongue, and stay there until the bartender finally comes out. You don't talk to him. You don't beat him up. You don't even kill him. You order a second glass of wine, drain it in three gulps, and catch the red-eye back to Japan. You know Italy has no more secrets for you.
You go to the next Family strategy meeting, your suit crisp and pristine, your tie cinched up tight. It is another uniform to wear with grace and pride as you did Namimori's. Yamamoto sits beside you, his tie loosened and hanging, his jacket unbuttoned. He looks like a mess and you should really do something about that, but you just yawn into your hand. He rests his palm on your knee to comfort you, still harboring the faint vestiges of a boyhood crush. And he doesn't relent even when you pierce him through with a sharp-eyed glare.
At the meeting you share your latest research about the Rings, about the Millefiore base. You say nothing about the Cavallone Family, but you can tell they are searching for clues between your words. You don't let them find any. Then you retire with Kusakabe back to your quarters. He makes you tea. He lets you kneel silently and you let him think that you're meditating; it's something like that anyway. You hate this thing swelling like grief, like sentimentality in your chest. This is what happens when you let people in. This is what happens, even if they don't know it. And you think that maybe their not-knowing makes it even worse.
But you never feared loss with Dino. He was strong enough to fight fair with you, strong enough that you watched Vongola allies drop dead, one after the other, and you never worried that he'd be one of them. You attended wakes, or thought of attending them; then you would meet up with him afterward. Usually at a hotel. Usually without words, just hands and teeth and tangled sheets, groans and gasps and that fleeting moment of tenderness when you let him run his fingers through your hair. Even you knew it wasn't just fucking. It was an affirmation that you were both alive.
But now you don't know what to do. You know you're still alive, even without his reassurance, and so is the Vongola Family mostly, a unit that you've come to grudgingly accept as your family. And that should be enough. You're all warriors and casualties are to be expected. You find yourself trying not to think about the small, meaningless exchanges, the cold goodbyes as you put on your clothes and left him lazing in bed, his eyes droopy with sleep, his body looking lonely and cold without you close to it. Your efforts are mostly in vain.
The others know, though they mostly pretend not to. Tsuna lets you handle it on your own like you do everything else. Gokudera uses it as an excuse to keep even more distance from you. Lal looks at you knowingly, then gives you some more leads for your research. But some of them, like Yamamoto, won't let it go. He tries to be your friend, tries to talk to you, tries to take you out for a beer. You tell him you don't drink and walk away. And Ryohei corners you in the kitchen one night as you're making dinner that you forgot to eat hours earlier. And he talks about Colonello. Talks about how hard it was to lose his master, to be left without guidance. You don't know if he's trying to offer you comfort of if he wants you to comfort him. You reject both.
But, in the end, you know there's not really anything you can do about this mess. And you're fucking weak if you let it bother you, so you just push it away, like you learned to push him away. Him and his kisses and his warm words and the way he always tried to get you to crawl back into bed with him after you were finished. But you never did. You got up, put on your clothes, and slipped out the door to catch a plane back to Japan.
And you can do that here, too. Because Dino is yesterday, dead and cold and gone. And today is just another hotel door to close, another plane to board, and you always have your tickets in your back pocket.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Dino/Hibari
Rating: R (for language and implied sexuality)
Word Count: 1100
Warnings: Spoilers for the Future Arc; in second-person POV.
Notes: Totally ripped off from inspired by theburningempty.
No one has heard from the tenth boss of the Cavallone Family in weeks, and it makes you antsy.
You spar a little too fiercely with Ryohei, sending him to the infirmary for days. You don't attend the Family strategy meetings, instead sending Kusakabe in your place. You don't talk to Kusakabe about missions. You just pack up one morning and disappear for three nights. You come back exhausted and empty-handed.
You don't tell anyone that you'd gone to Italy, or why, but you suspect that they know. And you don't tell them what you find there. You don't tell them about the bombed-out Cavallone compound weakly disguised by a Mist barrier. You don't tell them about the proprietor of the bar the two of you would go to when you were in the country, the way the man scurried into the back when he saw you , afraid to give you whatever information he had. You don't tell them because it doesn't mean anything. For as much of a klutz as Dino Cavallone is, he's also fucking strong, and he and his men probably made it out of town before the Millefiore hit hard.
The first two nights, you stay in the hotel where you first fucked, after the Rings battle, all strung out on your adrenaline and his concern, his pride. You followed him back to Italy, wanting to fight him some more. And you tried not to look surprised when he wound his whip around you, pressed you up against a wall, and kissed you. You tried not to look surprised that you kissed back. This isn't the same room, though, not the same room where he stripped you down, young thing that you were, young thing that he was. This isn't the same room, but it doesn't matter. They all look the same.
The third night, you go back to that bar, order a glass of dark red wine, a sharp one that tastes metallic on your tongue, and stay there until the bartender finally comes out. You don't talk to him. You don't beat him up. You don't even kill him. You order a second glass of wine, drain it in three gulps, and catch the red-eye back to Japan. You know Italy has no more secrets for you.
You go to the next Family strategy meeting, your suit crisp and pristine, your tie cinched up tight. It is another uniform to wear with grace and pride as you did Namimori's. Yamamoto sits beside you, his tie loosened and hanging, his jacket unbuttoned. He looks like a mess and you should really do something about that, but you just yawn into your hand. He rests his palm on your knee to comfort you, still harboring the faint vestiges of a boyhood crush. And he doesn't relent even when you pierce him through with a sharp-eyed glare.
At the meeting you share your latest research about the Rings, about the Millefiore base. You say nothing about the Cavallone Family, but you can tell they are searching for clues between your words. You don't let them find any. Then you retire with Kusakabe back to your quarters. He makes you tea. He lets you kneel silently and you let him think that you're meditating; it's something like that anyway. You hate this thing swelling like grief, like sentimentality in your chest. This is what happens when you let people in. This is what happens, even if they don't know it. And you think that maybe their not-knowing makes it even worse.
But you never feared loss with Dino. He was strong enough to fight fair with you, strong enough that you watched Vongola allies drop dead, one after the other, and you never worried that he'd be one of them. You attended wakes, or thought of attending them; then you would meet up with him afterward. Usually at a hotel. Usually without words, just hands and teeth and tangled sheets, groans and gasps and that fleeting moment of tenderness when you let him run his fingers through your hair. Even you knew it wasn't just fucking. It was an affirmation that you were both alive.
But now you don't know what to do. You know you're still alive, even without his reassurance, and so is the Vongola Family mostly, a unit that you've come to grudgingly accept as your family. And that should be enough. You're all warriors and casualties are to be expected. You find yourself trying not to think about the small, meaningless exchanges, the cold goodbyes as you put on your clothes and left him lazing in bed, his eyes droopy with sleep, his body looking lonely and cold without you close to it. Your efforts are mostly in vain.
The others know, though they mostly pretend not to. Tsuna lets you handle it on your own like you do everything else. Gokudera uses it as an excuse to keep even more distance from you. Lal looks at you knowingly, then gives you some more leads for your research. But some of them, like Yamamoto, won't let it go. He tries to be your friend, tries to talk to you, tries to take you out for a beer. You tell him you don't drink and walk away. And Ryohei corners you in the kitchen one night as you're making dinner that you forgot to eat hours earlier. And he talks about Colonello. Talks about how hard it was to lose his master, to be left without guidance. You don't know if he's trying to offer you comfort of if he wants you to comfort him. You reject both.
But, in the end, you know there's not really anything you can do about this mess. And you're fucking weak if you let it bother you, so you just push it away, like you learned to push him away. Him and his kisses and his warm words and the way he always tried to get you to crawl back into bed with him after you were finished. But you never did. You got up, put on your clothes, and slipped out the door to catch a plane back to Japan.
And you can do that here, too. Because Dino is yesterday, dead and cold and gone. And today is just another hotel door to close, another plane to board, and you always have your tickets in your back pocket.