Supercars Before Students (Even Cute, Homicidal Ones)
Disclaimer: I don't own KHR or Top Gear. Fair use, non-profit, please don't sue me.
Warnings: Swearing. Violence. Very sexy supercars.
A/N: Thanks to scientificsoliloquy for beta-ing.
Hibari was at Chiavarone's door at precisely nine o' clock in the morning. He knocked twice. Italian curses flowed fluently from behind the doorway and a moment later, the wooden door opened to reveal the blonde mafia boss he was scheduled to meet.
"Kyouya!" Chiavarone greeted, his body blocking the way into his office. "Eh, hi. This is kind of a bad time."
Hibari took a moment to take in the don's appearance. Chiavarone's hair was mussed, his pyjamas rumpled and the fingers only half hidden on the door behind him fidgeted. Hibari checked his watch.
Nine oh one.
He met Chiavarone's chocolate gaze with a raised eyebrow. Chiavarone laughed nervously.
"Yeah, I was… busy."
Hibari continued to stare flatly and Chiavarone's fidgeting got worse. It always did when he was hiding something.
"Sorry, could you give me twenty minutes?" the allied boss appealed, biting his bottom lip and trying to make puppy eyes. It might have worked, if he wasn't nearly a head taller than Hibari. Whatever the blonde was hiding must be interesting.
Hibari pushed the door open and ducked inside the office.
"Kyouya, what are you doing– don't-"
The massive HD wall TV was out from behind the sliding shelves of books Chiavarone never read. So, Chiavarone was going to delay the meeting to watch a show. He really should have known better. Unless he was dying, meetings were meetings.
Hibari could bite him to death. Hibari was generous like that. The blonde could watch television from a hospital bed.
"C'mon, I'm only asking for ten minutes, is that so hard?" Chiavarone whined in an oh-so-mature fashion. "Alright, so there was that one time I tried to wake you up to go for supper, but I was wasted and that was just once! I mean, I sure as hell didn't do it again, and you already kicked me for it! It's not fair to keep getting back at me for one mistake-"
"I booked this time," Hibari interrupted. "Sit."
Chiavarone's eyes widened in horror.
"W-what, you're staying? In here?"
Hibari did not bother responding to that and took a seat.
"Please, please, please pretty please can you wait in the lounge for five minutes, my wonderful, cute, adorable—I mean super manly and awesomely strong student," Chiavarone said quickly as Hibari glared. "Just five minutes! I've been waiting for this a long time! Six months actually, because Romario wouldn't let me buy one, and– please don't ruin this for me. It's important." Chiavarone tried the eyes, again. Hibari was not impressed, again.
He was curious though.
Hibari started looking for the remote.
"You are the devil," the blonde pronounced melodramatically. "You are. You know you are."
Hibari ignored him.
"MMMnnnnngh, fine," Chiavarone gave up and plonked himself on the sofa, pointing accusingly at the Japanese man. "Fine, sit there. And don't say a word."
"What is it?"
Chiavarone meddled with his phone. The TV switched on.
"New cars come out so fast these days sometimes it is difficult to keep up."
Hibari took a moment to adjust to the accented English coming from the speakers.
"Happily however, there are some car companies—usually Italian ones—that won't be rushed. They like to take their time, have some lunch… and nobody is better at this than Lamborghini-"
Hibari should have guessed. Chiavarone liked cars more than he liked food. He liked food a lot.
Hibari liked reminding him that he was growing fat.
"And now at last there's a new one… It's called the Aventador."
They flashed glowing blue-white headlights. Low light shots of a sleek white body. A shot from above.
"Ohhh," Chiavarone squeaked.
The camera panned up from the back of the car to a straight track, wide as an airplane runway.
The Aventador gunned past the camera and Chiavarone gasped. There were actual tears in his eyes.
Hibari passed him the tissue.
Tires squealed and Chiavarone choked, crushing the tissue box in his hands.
"Want," he whimpered. He took a breath to regain himself and failed anyway. "Oh look at tha—ohhhh."
The screen faded to black as the supercar went round a corner, its tail picture perfect from every angle. The studio audience applauded. Chiavarone groaned and dropped his face to his knees.
"Ohhhh my god," he whispered. "My face feels hot."
"You are ridiculous."
Hibari patiently waited three seconds.
"These are the families and the schedule which we will be meeting them this week," Hibari said, snapping open the metal briefcase he had brought.
"Nnngh, don't," Chiavarone sounded like he was being strangled.
Hibari tilted his head.
Chiavarone swung back to sitting upright. He met Hibari's eyes with great seriousness.
"We just watched motor porn with a see-through panel to a V12 engine. That car was sex on wheels and I don't have that car. Unless those papers are what I sign to get me one, I'm not interested."
Hibari's eyes narrowed.
"Last warning, Bucking Horse," Hibari said lowly. Chiavarone sighed.
"Kyouya, you're my first and only and most adorable student, but even you aren't a 6.5-litre, seven-speed mid-engine Italian supercar that has a body like Michelangelo invented the stealth fighter jet."
Steel tonfa met the back of Chiavarone's fluffy blonde head.
Please review! If you liked this, Hibari and Dino also feature in my other fic, 'The Long Haul'. Thank you for reading. Cheers!