Characters: Dino Cavallone & Hibari Kyouya
Content: Dino is finally forced to confront the facts, or more precisely, a single blatant fact that he knew all the time but kept pushing away, delaying the day when he'll have to make a choice.
Tags: D18, some cursing, lots of fluff and lemon, and a bloodbath.
Disclaimer: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn and its characters belong to Akira Amano. I don't own anything except my perverted mind.
Chapter One: The Game Came to an End
...only it was never a game at all.
"Stop this stupid game this instant."
He had absolutely no idea what this was about.
"You won, so stop now. Seriously, who would've thought you were that stubborn..."
Eyes widened slightly. Eyebrows hid under the strands of gold that fell loosely over his forehead.
"To go this far just because you didn't want to marry that Beatrice of the Presuntuoso family... But you heard me, you won. You can marry any woman you choose."
He opened his mouth, trying to tell him that it never was a game, but was silenced.
"Anyone, really, she doesn't even have to be well-connected or beautiful or anything... just stop this insanity. This game of yours has gone past beyond the limits of your normal caprices."
Four hours after that, he was still choking on the words he wanted to say back then.
He understood what it was about; oh, yes, he knew pretty damn well what the problem was. It crossed his mind a few times before that as well; he expected complications, and disbelief and refusal and arguments and even restraint – but he had not expected it quite yet. Naturally, there was one big undeniable fact that kept troubling him for the past few years, and merely got bigger while he kept pushing it aside into the gloomiest corners of his mind, but... he just didn't want to face it, not yet.
If he had to face the family and the elders now...
He didn't want to imagine. He knew they were right in every single aspect. They had a solid concrete-hard base to build their arguments on, while he had nothing but his unchangeable feelings.
Of course, he meant what he wanted to say back then.
It was never a game for him, never, even from the first moments, from the sparing battles on the school rooftop to their first kiss and other firsts... However, he can only say that for himself. He had no proof whatsoever that this wasn't just a game for him...
He left the name resonate through his mind... Kyouya, Kyouya... It sounded so soft, so delicate; the name always ran over his lips with such ease, poured over the flesh dam with such ease, as a vivacious mountain stream...
Yes, Kyouya was like a mountain stream.
A mountain stream, flowing with ice-cold water, and even though you know it very well, you can't help yourself but step right into it; and although your feet feel like freezing off, you just can't bring yourself to step out of the current curling around your ankles pleasantly. He was refreshingly different from anyone he'd ever met, and the skylark had an effect on him like a drug; the more he had, the more he wanted, and the days he had to spend in Italy managing the family businesses were all too long and filled with the typical symptoms of a drug addict.
He could still remember their first kiss. No one expected it to happen; and though he wished for it, longed for it, yearned for it for months before the fatal day, he was ready to die at the cloud guardian's hands.
That, luckily, proved unnecessary.
It was a windy day. The tiny fluffy canary-like bird had trouble navigating its flight, and hardly managed to land between the wind-blown silky strands of raven-black hair of his owner. Kyouya, his Kyouya, looked so stunning with his always neatly combed hair flowing around his face and covering his eyes from time to time – whenever that would happen, he would scowl or pout a bit, which incidentally, Dino thought to be one of his cutest faces.
From the way the blonde seemed to be unable to focus on the battle and kept on receiving blows instead of delivering them, one would've thought that none of his men were there – however, the always present silent shadow more commonly known as Romario, was standing right next to the entrance to the Nami middle rooftop, his back leaned against the wall.
Who would be able to concentrate while fighting the-most-stunningly-ever-looking Kyouya?
The Dino of the present grinned at the memory, for he knew what followed next; but his smile rapidly died away and distorted his curled lips into a more bitter shape, fitting his current situation.
No, it was never a game, not for him.
Sure, he had dated and kissed a few guys before, and everyone thought it was his little stubborn game, a punishment for them forcing him to marry a bride of their choice. And it suited him; however, when it came to Kyouya... Kyouya was not a game. Never.
It wasn't a game when he pretended to have been knocked out cold.
It wasn't a game when his whip lashed out at the teen he'd been sparring with and caught him by surprise, curling around his torso tightly, and pulling him towards the ground.
It wasn't a game when he rolled over on the top the raven-haired chairman of the disciplinary committee wrapped in leather beneath him.
It wasn't a game when he hovered half an inch over his pale face, eyes scanning for a sign – resistance, encouragement or murderous intent, and saw not a trace of any of it, merely curious amusement.
It wasn't a game when he covered the skylark's lips with his own, fully aware of the inexcusable offense he was about to make, ignoring all possible laws at once, and then savouring in the slightly salty taste of the delicate flesh before he released him and prepared for the inevitable death-bite.
Only, it never came.
Instead, he was turned over to his back, his spine cracking ominously as his behind slammed against the hard rooftop floor violently, and assaulted vigorously in an entirely different way he'd expected.
His student was, obviously, waiting for a signal, for once the bucking bronco has made his move, he didn't hesitate for a moment. He literally assaulted those tempting lips, licking, nibbling, biting, sucking and god knows what else. For one, Dino did not know, as his consciousness was flowing somewhere among the clouds while a slick tongue explored his mouth tentatively.
Romario merely averted his gaze. Over years of following the head of the Cavallone nearly everywhere, he became used to mostly everything, and hardly anything could surprise him anymore. He had more than enough self-control to not even make a sound, and merely ensured silently that no one would stumble upon his boss and the cloud guardian in their current state.
Had they not been on the rooftop of Nami middle, the 'incident' would have most likely ended differently, and much less decently.
A silent chuckle echoed over the library where the present Dino sat, relishing in his memories that threatened to soon become the only thing left for him.
No, he never meant it as a game. Never.
Even though he knew from the start that it was wrong of him to desire his six-year younger student, which was, above all, a minor. Although he knew, as time went by, that this was one romance that should never have been, and that would never be allowed. No, not for him.
He was well aware from the beginning – hell, they were both well aware of it – and yet he chose to ignore the blatant fact that now came stumbling down upon him.
The simple obvious fact that he was required to produce a successor.
And that Kyouya was pretty much unable of giving him one.
Not that it was anything unexpected; it would be strange if it was any other way. And yet, he hated that fact with all his heart, for he knew that that detail, the tiny detail that Kyouya was male, would eventually and inevitably mean the end of their relationship.
No matter how he enjoyed the attention of his men, no matter how happy he felt to see their smiles when they once again succeeded together, as a family – he hated his family right now. There would be no problems for them, if he wasn't the Cavallone boss. There would be no problems for them, if the Cavallone family wasn't centred around the bloodline of the boss and his direct descendants. There would be no problems for them, if he wasn't the last fucking living descendant of the Cavallone.
How he hated it all.
The pressure, the expectations, the requirements he just had to meet...
If only he could be a simple guy, just another no-one.
But then, he would never meet Kyouya. And even if he would somehow meet him, his skylark would never recognise him as equal and accepted him as his lover.
Everything was connected; his position was what gave him Kyouya, and at the same time what will take him away.
With a sigh, he got up and left the library, now bathing in the last rays of the evening sun, splayed over the horizon, painting everything in all possible shades of orange and red. He had spent the entire afternoon thinking and reminiscing over the past he shared with a certain raven-haired Japanese male.
"Book a flight for Japan. As soon as possible. I have something to take care of."
And just thinking and relishing in memories sentimentally won't solve a thing.
His voice was empty, businesslike, devoid of any emotion. Yet his warm amber eyes told a different story; a story of everlasting love, undeniable facts, unwanted but needed decisions, and numbness slowly creeping in to soothe the treacherous aches of the heart robbed of everything.