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Title : You Smell Like the Sun

Author : DnKS – giRLs

Rating : PG

Pairing : D18

Disclaimers: Definitely not ours.

Warning: Er… none...

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They had just finished practicing, if what they did could be called practicing. Under the blue sky on the roof of Namimori High School that time, they had clashed their weapons under the pretense of training. There could be heard the swish of whip against flesh, the dull clink of tonfa breaking bones. The scent of sweat and a hint of blood permeated the air.

Yet Hibari Kyoya frowned with his expression, for once, so open, as he told his supposedly tutor, Dino Cavallone, with a level voice.

"You smell like the sun."

It was strange. And Dino knew, realized, how strange it was to hear Kyoya saying those words. The scent of sweat, he could understand. The faint aroma of blood, he could also smell. The heavy undertone of battle he also felt. But he could not understand why Kyoya decided to tell him that he smelled like the sun.

Just like how he could not understand why Kyoya showed him that expression, so open, so wistful, as if he was reminiscing something nostalgic, something worth remembering...

...something worth loving.

He did not, could not, understand that. But he knew that he did not like it. He did not like Kyoya having that expression while saying those words to him with his eyes gazing to a faraway sight that his eyes could not quite follow.

He would erase the smell of the sun from him, Dino Cavallone decided that day.

Some moths after that day found them fighting side by side, destroying, and butchering people like how it was supposed from them to do. Amidst the fighting, Dino could sense only three things: the sensation his whip made as it broke the skin of their opponents, the heavy scent of blood wafting lazily in the air, and the sharpness of Kyoya's eyes that he seemed unable to tear his gaze from.

After they finished the battle, with the black midnight sky over their heads and the fallen bodies of their enemies scattered around their feet, Dino finally got those eyes staring fixedly at him. Then Kyoya approached him. Then Kyoya's hand reached upward. Then he felt that hand, so soft, so lethal, caressed his face, smearing blood on his cheek.

Kyoya's smirk was something he would never forget as his young, dangerous protégé said.

"You smell like the sun."

Dino could feel how something inside him clenching at that particular sentence Kyouya had just said. He wanted, oh so wanted, to ask Kyoya what did he mean, how could it be, what should he do to erase the smell of sun from him because, though he really could not comprehend it, he detested it. He detested smelling like the sun. He detested having Kyoya talk to him, stare at him with that kind of voice, with that kind of expression.

Yet he did not ask. He could not ask. And Kyoya left him without saying anything more.

Several weeks later, he kissed Kyoya, kissed him hard on his lips. They had just finished dinner, and it was the wine, Dino reasoned, that had made him do such act. It was the wine, Dino said in his mind, that made him press his lips onto Kyoya's lips. It was the wine, Dino admitted, that made him to be honest with his feelings that night.

Kyoya did not reject him. He did not push him away. He returned the kiss. And from his lips Dino could taste the wine that they had drunk beforehand. Yet when he released Kyoya's lips, and saw how the young boy licked his lips seductively, he still dreaded for the words that might follow.

"How do I smell like?" he, a bit anxiously, asked.

And Kyoya smirked. And Kyoya kissed him again. And Kyoya said.

"Like the sun, I guess."

Dino chose not to comment on that. He used his lips not for talking. He used his hands not for fighting. And he used his brain not for thinking.

He did not know for sure how the night progressed. He did not know if it was him or Kyoya who initiated the move. He did not know who suggested it first. But he knew that he enjoyed the night. He knew he cherished Kyoya. He knew he was thankful that he could have a night like that in his life.

And when morning came, he found himself tucked in a bed, Kyoya nestled securely in his arms. The scent of sex was heavy in the air. The morning sun peeked from a crack on the curtain. The feeling of love filled his heat, diminishing even that spark of fear he still possessed as he asked Kyoya.

"Do I still smell like the sun?"

Kyoya stared at him, long and hard. Then Kyoya smirked and did the cruelest thing as well as the sweetest thing possible.

He did not answer.

- end -