EDIT : NOV.20, 1:06AM : corrected the typos sprinkled all over the page OTL
» Title: Criss-Cross Lines
» Classification: 10051, 51100 • PWP/drama/canon? • R • spoilers for the TYL Arc • 3090 words + 606 words (omake)
» Summary: PWP - Porn With Plot. Though it's more like Plot with (some) Porn. HAH. Spoilers for the Millefiore Arc; set before Shou-chan's trip to Melone Base. Seme!Shouichi FTW haha.
» Notes: So I was taking a bath when I got hit by this idea. Good times, yo. And because kisproductions commented that 10051 smut is rare. *shifty eyes*
» Others: I post a lot of 10051 stuff in my livejournal, since I prefer the formatting there :) So if you like more of 10051, please visit my LJ! :)
His fingers worked on loosening his tie as soon as he reached the Millefiore Headquarters. He can't wait to just lie down and sleep—the two-hour drive did nothing to calm his thoughts. He spent the entire time segregating his thoughts to nifty little categories: things he told Tsunayoshi, excuses to make up for his absence, deflections that he can use on his boss.
When the door to his private quarters slide shut, he gives in to the heavy sigh that has been settling uncomfortably on his chest. He wants to rest so very badly, but he still needs to check his room for the usual (bugs, spy cameras, interceptors)—he still needs to file his report on meeting up with some informant (the excuse he forged alongside Vongola's Cloud Guardian)—he still needs to make sure Byakuran-san didn't replace his research logs with marshmallow boxes (littered with the heavy scent of suspicion).
He still needs to be Irie Shouichi, Byakuran-san's most trusted aide.
He is running one-two-three security checks on his main computer and on the headquarters' main frame—multitasking with shifting through his pile of paperwork—fingers scanning briefly through his music CDs, because Byakuran-san had that tendency of replacing his "loud, distracting" music with recordings of his "sweet, caring" voice.
He leaves the report for last, because he wants to run the scenario he's reporting through his mind one more time. He types slower than usual, flicking through every possible hole in his story, in their plan. After this report, he still needs to send over some technical data regarding the machine he has developed to the Vongola side, as part of their agreement. Hibari Kyoya was adamant in studying the nuances of his technology—to ensure that the Decimo's plan would go smoothly, though it was unsaid.
The headphones are blaring his favored music to his ears, which is why he doesn't hear the tip-toeing and the rustle of clothing until it was too late.
"Shou-chan~" His fingers fly off the keyboard and he makes sure they don't land anywhere near the power or the delete button. He grits his teeth, feeling his tiredness grow ten times more persistent.
"B-Byakuran-san," he manages to choke out, allowing himself to be swiveled around in his chair to face his currently-smiling superior, "w-why are you here?"
He should have been really suspicious of his absence then. Or maybe it's just one of his moments of highly-questionable sanity.
"Well, I haven't seen Shou-chan for the whole week," Byakuran-san's voice has a whiny edge to it tonight and he's not sure if he should be wary of that or just be plain annoyed, "since you've been busy with work."
"I work for you," he mutters, remembering to inject gentleness into it, busying his hands with saving his report draft and closing his laptop because now that Byakuran-san's here, there's no chance of finishing up his work. "I need to make sure they transfer all of my stuff to the Melone Base."
Byakuran's smile widens at the sight of his closed laptop. "Well then, we have to make sure we have enough lovey-dovey time now~"
Maybe if his memory erasure didn't work, maybe if his heart was evil, maybe if he didn't awaken Byakuran-san's ability and never-ending greed—maybe he would feel hot and bothered, and maybe a bit powerful, because he's the lover of Millefiore's boss. Now though—all he can feel is his heart squeezing unpleasantly, his stomach churning angrily, his blood pulsing dizzyingly.
He remains silent, but Byakuran-san took that silence as a 'yes'. Well, no matter what he did, Byakuran-san would proceed with whatever he had in mind anyway. That's the kind of person he is.
Pale fingers slowly remove his eyeglasses, further blurring his vision of the white demon in front of his eyes. He hears the soft clunk of his spectacles set atop his laptop, before those pale fingers wrap around his wrist and pull him towards his bed. He frowns at the movement, trying to recall where he placed the thumbdrive filled with research information that he was going to send to Hibari's Foundation's servers.
He puts up a bit of struggle when Byakuran-san kisses him, open-mouthed and tongue seeking entrance, because he really is tired and because Byakuran-san seems to like it more when he resists at first.
Hands that have commanded the massacre of countless victims now push not-so-gently at his shoulders—legs that have crushed all that stood in his way now straddle his smaller form—lips that have spoken beguiling words to capture the loyalty of his army now sprinkle eager kisses all over his face—eyes that have icily glared at soldiers into submission now take in the sight of him sprawled with clothing tugged at separate directions.
Leaning against the comforting softness of his mattress is making him sleepy—though the warmth of the heavy body straddling him is more urgent, more intense. He blinks to ease the strain on his eyes and to make sure he doesn't lose his mind. Sex removes people's inhibitions, lowers their mental guard and he simply can't let that. The whole world -no, the entire future of all parallel worlds- will be crushed completely if he somehow blurts out his plan with one well-timed question.
"Shou-chan looks so serious," Byakuran-san murmurs into the shell of his ear, before fussing with it, biting it as a warning to pay attention, smile widening when he shudders at the following lick, "he isn't having fun?"
He blinks again to try and regain his senses. If he didn't regain his memories, he'd be enjoying this a lot more, he knows. If Byakuran-san wasn't a complete monster, he'd be—he'd still be completely in love. He feels a tell-tale pain prick at the back of his eyelids and for fuck's sake, he isn't going to cry here, to break down in front of humanity's worst enemy.
He lets his hands that are currently massaging the muscles on Byakuran-san's back to slither up to those messy white locks, to tug at that untamable hair, to pull Byakuran-san back to his lips. If he occupied Byakuran-san's lips, then the other wouldn't be able to drop teasing lines, wouldn't be able to pose cryptic statements meant to rattle him, wouldn't be able to quiz him on not-so-random things.
Even with his memory still erased, he rarely kisses Byakuran-san like this—thoroughly and passionately—tongues sliding against each other's, as though they haven't kissed each other in forever. He can sense Byakuran-san's surprise at his sudden initiative. Maybe it was too forward? Suspicious? Maybe he should let Byakuran-san do whatever he wants, at his pace?
He pulls away from the lip-lock, wiping discreetly at the saliva at the side of his mouth, blushing when he sees Byakuran-san's lightly-flushed face.
"Mmm, maybe Shou-chan is enjoying this after all~ " He doesn't have time to retort or to refute that statement, because Byakuran-san grinds down on his hips in torturously slow motions. He almost stops his hips from bucking upwards to seek the friction, but he remembers that it would be weird if he doesn't do that. A low moan escapes his lips—and he convinces himself that it'd be weird to not do that too.
It definitely has nothing to do with the pleased look on Byakuran-san's face.
He doesn't know if he should be thankful or be alarmed that the two of them aren't wearing the standard Millefiore uniform, with all its zippers and buckles. Byakuran-san is now leaning close to his chest, fingers deftly undoing his dress-shirt's buttons, kiss-swollen lips nipping at each exposed inch of skin. He is leaning against the headboard, weight against the wood and his shoulders, and he feels slightly dizzy from the blood leaving his head.
Even without his eyeglasses, Byakuran-san's eyes are intensely purple, clearly cutting through the sex-induced haze, and he can feel himself shuddering at that thought.
He tries to look away from that stare, but he finds himself rooted on the spot, fascinated by the sight of the world's dictator rubbing his cheek against his clothes-constrained groin. He almost comes when Byakuran-san pulls down his pants' zipper with his teeth. He is usually the one relegated to giving a blow—
"Hngh," his train of thought is promptly derailed when Byakuran-san gives his cock a long lick, eyes still staring straight at him. He tries to remind himself that those lips are the one who gave the order to start the Vongola hunt, those lips will be the one to command the death of Sawada Tsunayoshi, but at that moment, with Byakuran-san's coldness overshadowed by the heat he is radiating—he can't even remember the face of the one he chose to betray his loyalties for.
He still feels slightly dazed and more than slightly guilty when Byakuran-san starts sitting up and starts crawling towards his bedside drawer, the place where Byakuran-san always threw some crazily-flavored lubricants—he cringes mentally when he recalls the time with marshmallow-and-vanilla flavor—the place where he put the thumbdrive. Shit.
This is probably the only time he has seen Byakuran-san's eyes widen ever since they graduated from university. He knows his own expression is surprised as well, at the sudden strength he displayed.
"Maa, maa, I like it when Shou-chan is all rough~" Byakuran-san regains his composure quickly, even though the position is now reversed, with his smaller hands gripping Byakuran-san's limbs tightly, in order to prevent him from opening his bedside drawer.
He tries to think of a reason on why he did that, surely it's suspicious—but he then thinks that Byakuran-san said it himself, that he appreciated it when he's more rough and assertive—so he does just that. He crushes his lips to the other's, hands in a frenzy to remove the other's black vest, the lavender dress-shirt, the pants. He would have removed the other's socks too, but that would require pulling away from the kiss, and that would just give Byakuran-san the chance to question his actions.
He curses the need for air, because that prompts him to pull away after some moments of frantic kissing. He feels his cock throbbing, but the top priority is to distract Byakuran-san from things he should never learn about, not personal gratification.
"Can you get the lube for me, Shou-chan?" Byakuran-san breathes into the minute space separating their lips, voice sultry and if he didn't know retrieve his erased memories, he would have—
"I cleared my stuff already, Byakuran-san," he lies through his teeth, though it's a plausible lie. He's going to supervise the Melone Base along with Gamma by this weekend and he doesn't have any reason to keep Byakuran-san's strange purchases with him.
A grin is playing on Byakuran-san's lips. He frantically thinks about the possible holes in that lie, but before he can even analyze each scenario, Byakuran-san is kissing him, small butterfly kisses from his lips, to his cheeks, to his collarbone. He mouths against the reddening flesh of his collar, "Fuck me, Shou-chan."
He curses himself for his reaction—he supposes he can't pretend to have not heard that, not when he knows Byakuran-san felt the twitch that ran through his cock at those silkily-stated words.
"I can't do that to my boss," he rambles, his stomach flipping in anxiety, because this kind of change isn't good, Byakuran-san has never done this ever, and maybe he should have referred to him as 'Lord' as the others were prone to, instead of boss? "And, there's no more lube—"
"So?" He feels himself growing more flustered at that one flippant word. "I'm pretty strong, hmm? And I'm sure that Shou-chan will be very gentle with me ."
That's not the point and they both know it. He tries again, "You're my boss, Byakuran-san."
"It's fine," he finds himself feeling a flicker of annoyance at that—the idea of someone this careless being the most dangerous existence is both irritating and terrifying. "It's not like Shou-chan will tell anyone about this, ne?"
He shivers at that and he forces himself tries to meet Byakuran-san's stare and he hopes that it's not just his wishful thinking that saw only lust and amusement and not challenge and ruthlessness there. Hands massage his still-hard cock—he feels the contrast of the cold band of the Sky Mare Ring and the warmth of those hands—and he closes his eyes as he nods in agreement.
Byakuran-san's right hand guides his unlubricated penis to his opening and his eyes snap open. "B-Byakuran-san, without preparation—!"
"It's an order, Shou-chan~" Byakuran-san's left hand is now rubbing small circles at the junction of his right shoulder and neck. He can feel the threat there—it would only be too easy to snap his neck from that position. Plus, an order is an order.
He nods again as he pushes himself inside Byakuran-san, eyes anxiously watching for signs of pain. Yet, Byakuran-san's face remains in that happy, amused expression, without any tinge of discomfort. He refuses to think that Byakuran is doing that to remove his doubts about causing him pain.
"Shou-chan, you know," Byakuran-san comments, legs wrapped around his waist, driving him deeper and deeper as they establish a rhythm, "I'd be lying if I said I don't enjoy seeing you so compliant."
His breath hitches—and he question himself if it was better that he didn't follow Byakuran-san's command. Byakuran-san chuckles lightly, even as his limbs are sweaty and his chest is heaving with effort. "I wish Shou-chan will always be like this."
He takes over the rhythm, making it faster, faster, much faster, never mind that his hips will be really sore later, never mind that his lungs are protesting, never mind that there are tears mingling with his sweat.
He hates himself for it, for the guilt he's feeling at the moment. He's doing the right thing, he knows it. He feels Byakuran-san's skin tear up, feels warm, red, human blood from the wound. He makes sure to make Byakuran-san orgasm first, makes sure to look at that always-smiling face and imprint it in his mind, because once he leaves Italy, once he is on Melone Base—
He pulls out of Byakuran-san and despite the fatigue dragging his limbs down, he cleans the two of them up, wincing when he sees the blood on the sheets. He goes over his desk to retrieve his healing box weapon and his C-class ring.
"What are you doing, Shou-chan?" Byakuran-san's voice doesn't sound less tired than he was before they started.
He fumbles around for his ring, "Looking for my ring so I can heal you."
"Ah, ah~ Shou-chan is really the best!" He blushes and hates himself a little more. "Pass me that box on your table too?"
He quirks his eyebrow but obliges. It's a small black box—not small enough to contain an engagement ring, thank goodness, hey wait. It is small enough for that. He quashes those ridiculous thoughts as he readies to heal the injury he caused (or rather, it's because Byakuran-san insisted they do it without any preparation).
He wants it over with so he can finish his work for the day and sleep already, so he's unsurprisingly peeved when Byakuran-san stops him.
"Wait, Shou-chan," Byakuran-san says gently, tugging at his hand and removing his C-class ring and throwing it somewhere on the floor. He is about to protest, but Byakuran-san is opening the small box and sliding the new ring onto his finger.
It's even more ridiculous than an engagement ring. "It's the Mare Ring." He can't keep the awe and surprise out from his tone.
Byakuran-san chuckles again, holding his hands and nudging him to produce the clear flame that can only be due to pure resolve and a very high-class ring.
"B-Byaku—" Byakuran-san hugs him tighter from behind, their cheeks pressed together.
"I want you to have the Sun Mare Ring," Byakuran-san mumbles, cradling his hands, the sun ring's flame bathing the room with a warm glow, "as proof that you are my most valued person."
He feels a lump in his throat. He takes in a deep breath and hastily assembles his thoughts. This has been in his predictions, because he is sure of Byakuran-san's feelings for him. It might not be the healthiest affection, but it's a semblance of affection nevertheless. He smiles and he tries to remember all of his memories from his university life with this man, so he can make the smile convincing.
"I won't let you down, Byakuran-san."
"I know you won't," Byakuran-san sounds satisfied and his heart twists into a more convoluted loop, "I've always trusted Shou-chan most, after all."
He takes another deep breath at that. He feels lethargic and he wants to, more than ever, sleep.
"And since I trust Shou-chan most, I'd like him to choose his replacement assistant!"
This is also in his predictions, but that doesn't mean he likes the way Byakuran-san phrased it. "R-replacement?"
"Just until Shou-chan returns to my side," Byakuran-san says easily, loosening his embrace, "even though nobody can ever really replace Shou-chan~"
"I'll find a suitable one," he replies a bit stiffly. He thinks about the Vongola's Mist Guardian, who'll probably use this as a chance to sneak in. He must find someone that can be easily ambushed and replaced, just in case the Vongola boss was correct in saying that they can trust Mukuro to insert himself to the Millefiore Famiglia.
"Maa, maa, no need to be jealous~" Byakuran-san playfully remarks, pulling him by the arm towards his bed. He resists the urge to sigh—it looks like he won't be able to send the Vongola the data tonight, not with Byakuran-san here.
"I'm not jealous," he retorts, because that's the truth.
"Ahaha, if you say so~" Byakuran-san's heartbeat is the same as another human's. He presses his ear against it when Byakuran-san hugged him close once more. Byakuran-san has always been fond of cuddling and of any physical contact.
If only Byakuran-san wasn't—
He closes his eyes as he lets sleep take over him, as he tries to settle his thoughts to avoid the possibility of sleep-talking or anything of that sort. He snuggles into Byakuran-san's hold, if only to prevent the other one from snooping around his room while he's asleep.
He hears the thud of Byakuran-san's evil heart beneath his ears.
He's not jealous—he can't be jealous—he shouldn't be jealous—because a betrayer doesn't have any right to be.
"Byakuran-sama, I have a report to make." Kikyo's elegant face appears on the monitor, but Byakuran is not paying him any attention. Instead, the Millefiore's boss is busy watching his surveillance feeds of Shou-chan systematically shutting down Millefiore's servers' security blocks, before sending out a thumbdrive's worth of data over to the Vongola.
"Byakuran-sama." If Kikyo was annoyed at being ignored, he doesn't show it. He remains composed, lips set into a firm line. That's why he's so different from Vongola's Cloud—Kyoya-kun is aloof, but his irritation appears so easily on his face. That's why he's so different from his favorite Shou-chan—Shou-chan's disappointment, guilt and sense of justice reflect so vividly on his eyes. It's what makes him so interesting to play around with.
"Ne, Kikyo-kun," Byakuran pouts at his appointed leader of the Six Funeral Wreaths, "Shou-chan is leaving me for insects."
It's no secret that Kikyo hates the weakling engineer that stood by Byakuran-san's side. He respectfully declines to comment on that.
"What should I do, Kikyo-kun? What should I do if the one I love is leaving me for some other guy~?"
Kikyo's composure cracks here, the surprised gasp acting like the crack on a beautiful porcelain doll's face. Kikyo looks surprised, as though even just hypothetically saying that he's in love is even more ludicrous than the idea of him breaking the world. But Kikyo regains his poise fast enough and says, "For a lot of normal humans, they usually win over the one they love."
"If it's me though," there's a thoughtful pause, "I'll thoroughly punish them both."
There's another pause, where Kikyo looks like he's judging whether it's overstepping the line between God and Apostle to say something more. Byakuran's expression remains in his neutral-happy look, eyes trained on Shouichi looking suspiciously around him, even though he hacked into the security cameras and checked for bugs twice already.
Not that Shou-chan will ever be able to find the surveillance bug tracking him—it was developed by the Shou-chan of another world, so it is certainly top-class and undetectable.
"If it's you Byakuran-sama," Kikyo is smiling his patient, cruel smile, "I think you'd want to lead him slowly and painfully back to your side."
"Ahh~ Kikyo-kun thought a lot about his answer~" Byakuran focuses his attention to Kikyo once Shouichi stumbles out of the computer rooms.
Kikyo looks pleased with that comment. "It's part of my job as the leader of the Funeral Wreaths and as Byakuran-sama's right-hand man."
The cheerful expression melts quickly to reveal the mass murderer beneath the happy-go-lucky smiles. "Kikyo-kun, Shou-chan is my right-hand man."
Byakuran then claps his hands together as an idea forms in his head. "I know~ I'm going to let everyone know that Shou-chan is my absolute, favorite person!"
Kikyo is about to protest, but Byakuran cuts off the video conference feed, waving off Kikyo's report for later.
Byakuran then watches the surveillance bug he installed to follow around his Shou-chan. It really is interesting to watch Shou-chan try to trick him into thinking everything was still all right, but that's fine.
"Because I love Shou-chan," he savagely bites the marshmallow he's eating, "if making a fool out of me and playing with those little, intricate plans will make you happy—" he resists the urge to go over to the Vongola now and start off the feast by killing that naive Tsunayoshi, resists the urge to grab Shou-chan and never let him go, as he watches Shou-chan talk to the Vongola using a private line he established, "then so be it."
As long as, in the end, you return to me.
If Shou-chan is thinking of betraying you while you're sexing him up, Byakkun, you're DOIN IT WRONG. LOL
In any case, the failure is most likely not on Byakkun's part, but on my writing. This is why I don't write sexytiems D: