Summary: There's more than one reason to approve of Hibari's preference for traditional clothes.
Notes: Adult for smut. For KHRfest, prompt VII-43: Dino/Hibari – suits and kimono. 1024 words.
Kyouya is like a cat in that Dino has never seen him appear less than perfectly composed, no matter what the occasion. He may be wading through the bodies of his enemies or the herbivores who have annoyed him, or he may be standing at Tsuna's side, clearly disdainful of whatever exigency has placed him there, or he may simply be lounging in a sunny spot to nap—it doesn't really matter where he happens to be, because no matter what, he is always coolly composed. There has never been any doubt that Kyouya was born to be a Cloud, Dino thinks.
Kyouya is also like a cat in how scrupulous he is about his grooming. He adopted the slim black suits that are practically an official uniform among the men of the mafia without saying a word, and has never—as far as Dino knows—had to be prodded into having them tailored to best fit the compact lines of his frame. (This puts Kyouya one up on certain of his fellow Guardians, who are cheerfully oblivious to the niceties of fashion and the absolute despair of those who know better.) Kyouya wears his suits well and seems to know it; Dino has caught him making minute adjustments to his tie or to the drape of a jacket, settling them to fall just so. Dino supposes that he's been allowed to witness such moments because Kyouya believed himself to be unobserved, or possibly just because Kyouya has become inured to his presence over the years and no longer cares about letting Dino see that side of him. Either way, Dino saves up those little glimpses of Kyouya's vanity as proof that as feline and born a Cloud though he may be, Kyouya is still human. Someone has to remember that, even if Kyouya himself is inclined to ignore it.
As comfortable as Kyouya is in his suits, though, he only ever really relaxes when he is out of them. Kyouya tolerates the suits he wears because they are what is appropriate; Dino suspects that there is actually nothing that Kyouya likes more than his propriety. But he does not prefer suits—if Kyouya has any preferences at all in what he wears, it is for the kimonos that he changes into when he is in his private spaces, the ones that belong to him first and the Vongola second. Anyone who calls on him then may count on finding him wearing a kimono in restrained, sober colors with understated patterns that draw the eye along the elegant lines of his body. His kimonos fit Kyouya in a way his suits don't necessarily, are right for his personality where the suits aren't quite, and he relaxes in them in a way too subtle to describe in words but are immediately recognizable to anyone who knows him as Dino does.
Dino would like seeing Kyouya in a kimono for that reason alone, but they have other benefits, too, and he's almost as fond as those as he is of the way they suit Kyouya's temperament.
At the end of the day, a kimono is only so much wrapped cloth, and wrapped cloth is easy to undo. Dino likes that attribute of kimonos very much, and the fact that Kyouya will let him take advantage of it even better. When Dino reaches for him, Kyouya leans back and smirks as he permits Dino to loosen the sashes wrapped around his waist and ease the cloth from his shoulders. Dino likes to press kisses along Kyouya's skin as he goes, and thinks that it's almost like unwrapping a gift, though he has more than enough common sense to keep him from making any such comparison out loud. Used to him and tolerant of him as Kyouya has come to be, there are some lines Dino still doesn't dare cross, not when he suspects that Kyouya still ranks fighting as more fun than sex and would take any chance to change the latter into the former.
Nevertheless, Kyouya's body is like a gift in its own way, revealed slowly as Dino lifts the layers of cloth away to reveal the lean, hard shape beneath. Kyouya never seems to mind the moments that Dino takes to simply look at him once he is bare; sometimes he stretches himself out to fullest advantage against the sheets, a sly smile curving his lips as he lets Dino look his fill.
To a point, anyway. Kyouya is not a patient creature, and when he has had enough of being looked at he reaches for Dino, pulling him down and demanding more. Dino is happy to oblige him by running his hands over Kyouya's skin, stroking him till he nearly purrs from it, and enjoys the way Kyouya flexes under his touch. Kyouya has no inhibitions that Dino has ever been able to discover; he accepts Dino's touch like it is his due, digging his fingers into Dino's shoulders and hissing his approval when Dino opens him up. When Dino settles over him, Kyouya wraps his legs around his hips to pull him closer and rocks himself against Dino's cock with a fierce, single-minded hunger, growling with his pleasure and urging Dino's hips to move faster and fuck him deeper. He is beautiful in the moments when he comes, face cleared of anything but the pleasure consuming him, and in the moments after when he subsides under Dino, tranquil in his satiation. He makes pleased sounds under Dino, lolling under him as Dino drives against him, chasing the same bright edge of pleasure for himself, and his eyes rove over Dino, glinting his approval as Dino arches and comes apart over him.
Kyouya suffers Dino to hold him afterwards, lounging naked and shameless in his arms as Dino strokes him, running his fingers through the fineness of Kyouya's hair and down the graceful curve of his spine, until his eyes finally slide closed and he sleeps.
It is, Dino thinks, watching him sleep and unwilling to move for fear of disturbing him, a good thing that he has always been a cat person.
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