In a voice.
All usual disclaimers apply.
Warnings: Sexual activates mentions, lawl
Summary: Tsuna tries to tell Mukuro something during sex. Good luck with that, Tsunayoshi.
A/N: I have recently become obsessed with 6927. With that all said and done, let's see if anyone can figure out what the hell Mukuro can't figure out.
There was that damned sound again.
Mukuro could hear it beneath the pulsing skin, and beneath the heated air that lingered about their bodies like a thick mist. He could hear it beneath the soft sounds stifled in Tsunayoshi's throat, where whimpers and gasps drew forth like a fountain to the silver rim. He could hear it beneath his own swimming mind, beyond the surface of his lust and intent. In a dark, dark pool of his own workings, he could hear it.
That damned sound.
It was low and sweet. In Tsunayoshi's voice, barely hidden beneath the sharp sounds against his teeth. It came from deep within his chest, curling behind the ribcage where his heart lay; soft and fleeting like a hummingbird's wings. He could hear it now, even when his teeth sunk down on the smooth curve of the shoulder and the neck. He heard it in the quick whine of Tsunayoshi's voice, and could feel it as the boy's blunt fingernail's curved into his skin. That damned noise. Mukuro's patience was growing short, and his fuse was a weak one at that. If he heard that damned nose one more time--
"Haa," Breathed Tsunayoshi, who lifted his knees up, and brought more warmth between his legs, who arched his back and moaned again. Mukuro almost hummed at the sound, and the feel of Tsunayoshi's excitement, throbbing against his own, where more heat was building like a warm pool. Yes, that's exactly what he wanted to hear. Mukuro shifted once, lifting his stomach and pressing his hips against the boy's hand-
"Aanh…!" Tsunayoshi gasped quietly into his ear. Mukuro was much, much happier now. Now that the noise was gone, and now he could concentrate, on this, on Tsunayoshi, on anything but the noise-
"Mukuro-san." Tsunayoshi was not whimpering now. Not gasping or moaning, and damnit that sound.
"Yes?" The older male hissed. "Tsunayoshi?"
"You, you'll be st-staying here, yes?"
"Staying where?" Mukuro rolled his hips, in hope that Tsunayoshi will stop the annoying noises and gasp in his little wet voice again. Tsunayoshi's eyes rolled back once, accompanied by a gentle groan. Mm, much better.
"Here!" The boy suddenly gasped. "Here, with me. With everyone." Mukuro breathed against Tsunayoshi's shoulder. Damn it all to hell.
"I suppose so. Perhaps."
"But, Mukuro-sa-aah!" Tsunayoshi's alabaster knuckles tightened over the sheets. Mukuro's tongue trailed down the collarbone, where it dipped once to meet the chest. "Tsunayoshi-kun, do stop talking."
"B-but," He could already see the tumble in those soft lips. "But, I need t-to know. Everyone is so, so busy…" Mukuro heard the voice trail away, and he was grateful for his talented tongue as it crossed over the small planes of that smooth chest. His fingertips danced over the sides of the young body, grasping the hips there. "Mm…"
"It makes me…so sad.."
"…what makes you sad, Tsunayoshi-kun?" His voice felt puckered as he spoke against the boy's abdomen. His eyes were whirling in their own chaotic colors. Darkened like ink, they searched for those eyes that had trusted him so entirely earlier that day. Tsunayoshi lifted his head, staring worriedly at the illusionist. A dusky blush had crossed his cheeks, and his eyes seemed to reflect in the light like honey at the bottom of a pot.
"That everyone is here, Mukuro-san…but…you're always so far away." Tsuna grimaced, and shook his head. "I meant, everyone…you should be here, with us!" Another wince. Mukuro could see through the boy as if he were a cellophane figure. A chuckle broke through his deep throat, and his ire was momentarily forgotten.
"My, my, Tsunayoshi-kun. How melodramatic you sound right now." His voice fell to a careless hush.
"It's the truth," The boy said, quietly. "I can't speak for the others, but…you should…could stay here, for a while longer." There was the sound beneath that voice. One Mukuro could no longer stand.
"Shush, Tsunayoshi." He gave the boy's thigh a wet lick, and lifted himself to his earlier position. His fingers grasped those hips, and sought- sought what he had been seeking this whole time, for these years.
"Aah! Mukuro-san, please. Let me- Aahh!" The cry was short and thick. Mukuro hoped to hear more of it, because he no longer wanted to hear the sounds in that voice. He felt heels dig into the small of his back, and the hot body tighten all around him. This is what he came here for.
"M-m," The boy attempted to speak, but his lips were brushing over the long neck, kissing pale spots, gasping when the particular thrusts became so, so very hot…
And the bed sung with them, with the short crackling sound of sheets shifting around them and the springs as they squeaked and crunched. Both Tsunayoshi and Mukuro could no longer speak or make sounds, but instead could feel and reach out and grasp a warmth they hadn't felt in weeks. Tsuna finally caught it, and came with a high, gasping cry. Mukuro's body fed on the clench of the boy's climax and after a short moment of riding out the incredible heat that brought his head to the heavens, he too came in hot bursts.
Sticky, sweaty, and sore, the two rested their boneless bodies on the spent bed, with their spent bodies entangled and needing sleep. Mukuro heard sounds again- the silence of the warm room, Tsunayoshi's breathing as he panted for cool air, his own body as it lazed about like an overfed animal. He felt fingers sink into his hair, stroking the sweaty texture there, and he knew Tsunayoshi would try and speak again.
But no words, no sounds came. And Mukuro suddenly realized a new type of sound that he despised more than the sound of his name rolling off the boy's lips.
A/n: Aha, yes…silence isn't really a sound, but…eh…well…SHUT UP.