(no subject)
title: A Thousand Million (Gokudera -> Hibari)
rating: R - sexual misconduct WHEEE
sample: These unspoken bureaucracies and rituals are what hold them in perfect tandem.
note: takes place in an AU concocted by the brilliant evocates: Hibari is the Tenth Vongola Decimo, Gokudera is his loyal right hand man. That's all you need to know.
A breath skitters over his ear, deft fingers uncoil his tie and folds it over a hand neatly. His right hand man always insists that this act is not worth the wrinkles, for it would be an unspeakable, unthinkable affront to the Tenth's image. Buttons are undone but his underling does not dare to touch his skin. Uninvited intimacy is never professional and never welcomed by either man. Limits are everywhere, it boxes them in but never restricts. They're simply invisible walls that uphold Order like the pillars of the Parthenon. These unspoken bureaucracies and rituals are what hold them in perfect tandem. "Tenth... Allow me to serve you-
"Allow me to thrill you."
All it takes is a smile that's barely there to the naked eye. And so discipline goes uninterrupted in this lazy, indulgent afternoon. He relaxes into his chair, relaxes into touches that are nothing less than pure undiluted worship. Gokudera Hayato pours in everything he has and like a gentleman and a true boss, Hibari takes it all in stride. He must have heard a million ways to say "Tenth" by now and these are nothing new. But he relishes these ones- there's one that whispers against his skin, another that is as soft as a child's adoring kiss to a cheek, another that breathes it like a sacred prayer and a blessing (though never is it spoken as a curse, never.)
A thousand paper cranes.
Hibari could crush them anytime, curl his fist, cripple flightless wings. For paper is paper, be it folded or crumpled. He lets out a hiss as Gokudera licks. It makes him smirk in private knowledge (and in secret pride) because the best mouth in Italy does not belong to a seasoned whore on the streets. He's always appreciated how the man's devotion burns any sense of shame into something beyond ashes- to the point that it simply doesn't exist. His title is murmured again, this time with a bottomless ache that echos into the core of Hibari's arousal. (Something in him wakes, something primal is beginning to stir and thrash.) He bucks his hips up into the mouth that adores him enough to say anything. To do anything.
This is exactly why he leaves everything be, better to have a thousand million paper cranes than a silent paper tiger.