A/N: I'm late. I know. My excuse is, my internet connection has been dodgy lately. Anyway, this is just the first I finished, still have many prompts I haven't filled. x.o So, go ahead and flame me, I know I deserve it. This is quite shitty, IMO. But I don't really feel like going back to edit it some more. Besides, I think this is a feasible idea, just that my English sucks.
Actually, the more I read this, the more it seems to have subtle shonen-ai undertones. Heh, so feel free to interpret it however you want.
As usual, ConCrit and comments are appreciated, & point out any mistakes I made.
Disclaimer: KHR belongs to Amano Akira.
Quiet mumblings, the smell of alcohol laced with faint undertones of sweat and gunpowder, and two dark shapes that definitely did not belong in his house.
Those were what greeted Reborn when he opened the door. He would have been on guard, if not for that identifiable speech pattern. The hitman sighed and switched on the lights, confirming his guess.
Colonello's head was resting on the top of his coffee table, numerous beer cans littering the table and surrounding floor. His anti-tank rifle was propped on the couch, and his right hand was gripping a can loosely.
Putting away his shoes, Reborn walked over to the blond and nudged him, nose wrinkling.
No response, just more jumbled muttering.
He kicked Colonello forcefully this time, causing the blond to shoot up, shouting, "Where's the fire, kora!"
"There's no fire, you drunk idiot," Reborn irritably answered.
"Oh, s'just you... Go away, Reborn..." Flopping back down on the table top, Colonello waved a hand lazily at the hitman in a shooing motion. Face remaining deadpan, Reborn kicked him again, hard enough to get the blond off his table and fall on the floor.
Letting out an injured cry, Colonello sat up, yelling , "What was that for, kora!"
"What are you doing in my house?" Ignoring the other's question, Reborn fired off one of his own.
"I picked the lock," unmoving from his spot, the COMSUBIN soldier stared with unseeing eyes at the pile of beer cans. Finally giving in to his annoyance, Reborn frowned and snapped, "I asked what, not how, moron. If you don't have a reason for breaking into my house, then kindly get out."
Marching over to the drunkard, Reborn hauled him upright by the collar of his jacket, prepared to eject the unwelcome trespasser.
He was caught off-guard when Colonello latched onto him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and face leant against his shoulder. The hitman froze in surprise, brain suffering a momentary lapse.
"Let me stay until she notices me."
That sentence snapped Reborn out of his stupor. Ah, so that's what this is all about. Letting go of Colonello's collar, he patted the blond's back awkwardly, repressing the urge to sigh.
"You can't stay for that long. But... Just for tonight, it's fine."
Steering them over to the couch, Reborn swept the cans off the table and laid the rifle on there. Next, he manoeuvred them so that he was sitting down with Colonello leaning against his shoulder. Snatching up the television remote, he switched on the TV and started channel surfing, eventually settling on the news.
If the way Colonello hugged Reborn with a death grip was any indication, the blond was a clingy drunk. He started muttering broken sentences again, and professed his love for Lal Mirch at least eight times in the span of thirty minutes.
That was how long Reborn watched the news.
Not that he paid any attention to it. He was listening to Colonello's dunk babbling for blackmail material. Changing the channel again, he muted the sound when Colonello groggily straightened himself. Perhaps the drunkard had decided to leave?
Startled, Reborn looked over. Colonello was staring at him, trying to project an air of seriousness and failing miserably. His eyes were glazed over, and his cheeks were – just slightly – flushed.
"Lal would smack me or yell at me whenever I teased her, ya know? But recently, she seems out of it. Like she's in her own world or something, kora. I don't like it."
Onyx eyes became shadowed at those words. He had an idea as to what was distracting Lal Mirch. That Arcobaleno business... He hadn't managed to dig up more information related to it, other than the fact that there were five more individuals, plus Lal Mirch, who had received the letter.
It disturbed him greatly. How was it possible for the world's greatest hitman to not be able to find whatever information he set his mind to? Even more than that, how was it possible that he couldn't find more information, in the Mafia, where backstabbing, lies and treachery were common as day?
A hand being waved in front of his face quickly made Reborn return his attention back to Colonello. "Ya alright?"
"I'm fine. It's past the time when drunkards should be sleeping. Go to bed." Pushing aside his unease, Reborn stood up and hoisted Colonello to his feet, dragging him to the bedroom. Pushing the blond onto his bed, the hitman roughly divested Colonello of his headband and jacket, then tucked him in under the covers.
Job done, the dark-haired male turned around and was about to leave, but a hand grabbed onto his suit jacket. Resisting the urge to groan, Reborn turned around and asked, voice tinged with impatience, "What now?"
"Don't go, I don't want to be alone..."
He was about to refuse, but caught sight of Colonello's face. The blond looked... unexpectedly frail. Shutting his mouth, Reborn pried the hand off his jacket and sat down, back leaning against the bed frame.
"Can you sleep now? Or do you need me to sing a lullaby?"
A snort of amusement could be heard. "The world's greatest hitman Reborn, singing lullabies? That sounds so wrong, kora!"
Shedding his fedora, suit jacket, neck tie and socks, the black-haired man stayed quiet, immersed in his thoughts.
Some time later, Colonello's breathing evened out. Reborn looked over, confirming that, yes, the fool had fallen asleep.
"Even a carefree idiot has limits too, huh." Tilting his head to gaze at the moon shining brightly outside the window, Reborn murmured softly to himself. "In our world... You're extremely lucky if you're not lonely." Glancing back at Colonello, obsidian eyes glittered with amusement.
"Lal Mirch should realize and accept his feelings soon, before the kid ends up an alcoholic." Lips curled up into a smirk, Reborn ran a hand through his spiky hair, then fluidly stood up, clothes gathered in his left arm. Picking out a fresh set of clothes, he left the room, shutting the door quietly. Walking to the bathroom, the jet-haired man tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry hamper and stripped down. Drying himself off after a quick shower, Reborn cleaned up his living room and switched off the lights, before sprawling out on the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes.
"The things I do for lovesick idiots..."