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Damn those prompts!	By : Rossmonster Category: +G to L > Katekyo Hitman Reborn Views: 2718 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hitman Reborn, nor do I make any money from my writtings.

Chapter List
- 1-The morning after a night to remember
- 2-Stumbling to his bed...
- 1
- 2
>
Author Plead: So, quick apology and explanation. This was written in one go, between 2:37am and 8:20 London time. I didn't have a BETA, just spell check and a few re-reads the next day. I can't write smut, PWP...anything like that. Unless its at an obscene time, which is when i suddenly develop the ability to write smut without cringing and deleting it. So, please don't judge if there are a few spelling errors and the pr0n fails, blame my sleep!writing. BTW fail formatting fails DRAMATICALLY

Reborn woke slowly to the worst headache he had ever had the misfortune to suffer, feeling as though a thousand construction workers were drilling mercilessly into the backs of his eye's. Mumbling pathetically to himself , he rested an arm gently over his face to shield them from the blinding light that had the audacity to sneak through the gaps in the curtains, bounce off the walls and hit him in the face. The suite in which Reborn was currently sleeping was bathed in a warm glow from the late morning sun, shining in from where he had neglected to close the curtains properly the night before and warming the air to the perfect temperature.
With the his eyes covered and his head plunged into a darker, and therefore more manageable agony, he allowed himself to take in his surroundings slowly, wriggling his toes and flexing under the soft sheets of his bedding. The sunlight continued to shine through the curtains, but now fell in warm stripes over his exposed abdomen and chest, causing goose flesh to erupt on his arms and throat.
The sheets pulled on Reborn's skin as he arched his back softly, stuck with sweat from what must have been an another incredibly hot Italian night. And as he clenched the muscles in his legs, a certain swordsman, whom he had just shared what could defiantly be considered a very hot night with, stirred slightly in his sleep.

Reborn nearly shot him.

But luckily for the Rain Guardian, Reborn's mind was working well enough to register the unmistakable spiky black hair prickling his abdomen and the slight smell of metal underlying his natural scent. Releasing a relieved sigh, he clicked the safety back on before placing the gun back under his pillow. He winced at the unwanted light and clumsily reached across to the bedside table, fumbling with the switches that would automatically draw the curtains closed and block out the unwanted light. His hand banged and nearly knocked over a glass of water sitting on the table, and he spared a look at it to find a bottle of paracetamol placed next to it. The sound of the curtain eyelets dragging across the metal curtain rail startled Yamamoto, who rolled, still clinging to sleep, onto his side. Freezing momentary as the other man's cheek settled in the juncture where his ribs met, he blindly grabbed for the pain killers, tipped two into his palm and swallowed them in one, drinking almost half the glass before setting it noiselessly back on the table beside him.

Reborn ignored the lessening thump in his skull in favour of working out what the fuck had happened, and why there was a sweaty, painfully naked man lying between his thighs, exhaling sinfully hot air across his ribs. He knew clearly enough that last night had been Ryohei's birthday, and that they had held a small party for him in Tsuna's office with just his fellow guardian's, Dino, Colonello-Sensei and at some point the fucking Varia, though god knows how they had heard about it. He didn't remember drinking that much, but the incessant throbbing in the back of his skull played testament to the fact that he must have gotten thoroughly smashed as the evening had progressed.

That still didn't explain why Yamamoto was in his room, in his bed, naked as the day he was born. But then again, this wasn't his room. His clothes , save last nights suit that was scattered carelessly across the room and over several pieces of furniture, were missing, and the bed was not nearly as large as the one he was accustomed too. There was no wine set on the table, no paper's set on the desk and the doors were in entirely the wrong places. Though the Katana sitting against the far wall and framed Nanimori baseball jersey did give Reborn some clue as to where he was.
They didn't call him a genius for nothing!

Closing his eye's,he was immediately flooded with a cacophony of images from the night before. Lussuria teasing Ryohei into licking frosting from his finger, Dino falling out of a window and Hibari following, to get away from “crowding herbivores” and to no doubt challenge Dino to a fight on the front lawn. He was presented with the image of Squalo, hair pulled in a low, glossy ponytail, bleary eyed, trying to convince a surprisingly sober Yamamoto to humour him in a private sparring match outside in the moonlight. Against his chest the young man in question shifted and pressed himself closer to Reborn's body, seeking heat from his skin and pressing himself fully against Reborn's form.
Reborn absent-mindedly trailed a hand down to scratch at Yamamoto's hair as he let himself sink back into the pillows, allowing memories of last night to crash though his mind with all the subtlety of Xanxus in a china shop. He could taste the vodka from early that morning at the back of his tongue, his mouth sticky and somewhat dry from dehydration.

After the third attempt to coax the swordsman into a midnight spar, Squalo finally swallowed one shot too many and, with a pout to rival Futa's, collapsed backwards onto Tsuna's desk, his head smacking sharply against the lustrous, redwood surface. Yamamoto had panicked for a second, unsure whether to leave him there and enjoy the rest of the night, or carry him down stairs and call for one of the Varia's drivers to come and pick him up when Reborn had decided to make up the swordsman's mind for him.

Yamamoto had simply laughed as Reborn kicked Squalo's unconscious form onto the floor, the older man's hand rubbing casually over the desks surface as if checking for dents while Yamamoto scanned the rest of the room to see what the others had been doing while he had been distracted by the former Sword Emperor's forceful advances.

Tsuna was still casting worried glances across the room at Ryohei, as Lussuria become bolder and bolder in his advances towards the boxer, Xanxus casually refilling the Vongola Decimo's glass with whiskey, his boots propped against the antique table in front of him in his usual, menacing slouch.

Gokudera was sitting directly across from Xanxus, spluttering at the mud being crassly smeared on the precious table by Xanxus's heavy boots, and at Tsuna's casual downing of an almost full glass of whiskey. Xanxus merely smirked and poured Tsuna and himself another glass and gleefully ground his heels into the wooden table top, a cocky grin spreading across his face as the surface splintered under the force and Gokudera began fingering his bomb's from wherever he had concealed them under that suit. Chrome was sitting meekly in the corner, watching each of Xanxus's movements with ill disguised amusement.

Colonello was sprawled in an armchair by the fireplace, empty shot glass bouncing on his knee, long limbs arranged for utmost comfort. The tanned skin peeking from under his worn shirt catching the eye of many in the room. Of course, the idiot blonde was too oblivious to notice anyone but the greedy Illusionist opposite him who was carefully refilling a tray of glasses with vodka, a neat stack of money sitting equidistant between the two. As a rule, Viper didn't bother with anything that didn't benefit her financially, so Reborn was confident in assuming Colonello had lured the small woman into a drinking competition with a large sum of money as the prize.

Levi and Belphegor were loitering around the balcony, Bel watching Dino and Hibari sparring on the lawn below, grinning with obvious blood-lust at the carnage Hibari was no doubt reaping below. Levi's eye's were fixed none to secretly on the Varia boss, whose attention had now strayed from pissing off the Vongola's storm guardian to watching Colonello steadily drink the Varia's mist guardian under the table.

Finally drawing his attention back to the guardian in front of him, Reborn tilted his hat lower to once again shade his eyes, casually observing the grinning fool in front of him.

“Not drinking tonight Yamamoto?” he teased, letting his gaze wonder towards the fine bottle of wine sitting beside him on the desk. Unfortunately it would appear the damned cow brat had broken the last of the wineglasses before being sent off to bed. Yamamoto shrugged, scratching the back of his neck nervously in a gesture that Reborn now realised to be as fake as Colonello's stupidity.

And just as disarming.

“Actually I am drinking, I think years of drinking with Squalo during my training gave me a bit of a tolerance though ha-ha!” Yamamoto gave Reborn a cheery smile as he poured himself a glass of 30 year old aged Scotch as if it we're the most natural thing for him in the world, his fingers nimbly spinning the lid back on.

Reborn gave a murmur of agreement as he motioned to Yamamoto to pour him a glass as well. As he searched for a clean glass, Reborn allowed himself to get a good look at the Rain Guardian who had grown to become a hitman Reborn himself would be proud to leave in his place...

Well, once he was fully trained. He had of course been right in spotting the born hitman's potential, and the training he'd invested in him had certainly not been wasted. His easy going manner was no longer as natural as it had been when he was younger, more calculated now to achieve the best results from whoever he was dealing with at the time. The boy had originally met was now a man, and he was definitely someone that peeked Reborn's interest.

A loud cheer went up from behind them as Viper miscalculated the distance of the table and toppled from her chair, eye's unfocused and dull, limbs uncoordinated as she attempted to lift herself from the floor with what little dignity she had remaining. Colonello himself had barely moved in his seat, not even a faint reddening in his cheeks to signify the alcohol having any affect on him. Viper was down a whole 4 seconds before her chair was filled, a full bottle of vodka being slammed onto the tiny table as Xanxus dropped fluidly into the seat, legs spreading slightly as he sunk back into the padding to make himself comfortable. He fixed Colonello with a cold, but notably curious gaze and growled.

“Let's see how you fare against a real drinker, trash”

“Wow, looks like Colonello's in for a real challenge there!” Yamamoto laughed easily as he handed the Scotch to Reborn. Reborn merely grinned, slow and teasing.

“Oh I wouldn't be so certain, for an idiot he can hold his drink better than any”

“Any? Even you Reborn?” teased Yamamoto, turning to face Reborn fully. He brought his glass up to his lips and inhaled the scent deeply, savouring the distinctive aroma before sipping deeply from it, letting the alcohol spread across his pallet with a pleasant warmth.

“Hardly. Why, are you looking for a challenge Yamamoto?”

The man merely shrugged, eyes flickering towards the office door casually as he took another calm sip of his Scotch. Reborn took a sip as well, though mainly to hide his bristling. So Colonello was a better drinker than him, Yamamoto had managed to pick up on that fact but that was the only thing the blonde had ever beaten him at, and he'd be damned if he let anyone find out. He placed his empty glass on the table silently and crossed the room, ignoring the bickering and heckling from Colonello's table and out the office door. Yamamoto finished his drink as well and, nodding at Ryohei who was looking flustered with a lap full of playful Sun Guardian, followed Reborn out of the room and towards his own quarters.

“You have anything to drink in this closet you call a room?” Reborn murmured, casually seating himself at Yamamoto's desk, his feet propped against one of the open drawers with his hat drawn low over his face. Yamamoto knew the hitman wasn't inquiring about any good drinks Yamamoto had, and grabbed two bottles of Vodka from behind the desk's eave. A farewell present from his father when he had left Japan to take his place as Tsuna's rain guardian, he had yet to find an excuse or the time to open them, but now seemed as good a time as any.

“Shouldn't you take your hat off Reborn? It's a bit unfair don't you think haha?” Reborn raised an eyebrow but refrained from pointing out that there's was nothing unfair about it and how it was Yamamoto's own damned fault if he chose not to wear a hat. He pursed his lips in contemplation before pinching the hat at the brim and pulling it off to hang on the back off his chair. With the way they were going to be drinking tonight Yamamoto would be lucky to remember anything tomorrow anyway, Reborn was sure of that.

“Ah, much better, I can finally see your eye's Reborn!”

“Shut up and pour”

Yamamoto laughed easily and filled the row of glasses in front of them. Then, placing the bottle carefully on the far side of the desk, he nodded to Reborn, raised his glass and swallowed.

And that's when it had gone down hill.

Yamamoto mumbled blearily in is sleep, startling Reborn from his thoughts which was just weird before lifting his head to rest it on the other cheek. He wriggled slightly, making Reborn's eyes cross slightly from the rather delicate position he was in, before falling back to sleep, Reborn's fingers still tugging at the messy spikes of hair. Craning his neck up slightly he looked across his chest to see a row of dark smudges spreading from the young man's collarbones all the way up his neck. He had to sigh at that, screw wearing a turtle-neck, Yamamoto was going to need a fucking scarf to cover Reborn's drunken handiwork. He hummed quietly to himself and let his mind drift back to the slowly unravelling events of the night before.
“Fuck you, “a bit of tolerance” my arse. You're worse than Xanxus...” Reborn grumbled as he shook the last few drops of the second bottle into the shot glasses as Yamamoto grinned at him from across the table, a barely noticeable blush the only indication of the alcohol having any effect.

“Ha ha, I'm not that good, I'm sure you could still drink me under the table-”

“No one's arguing that”

“-Squalo used to give up halfway though the night and ditch me to drink with Xanxus most of the time. My tolerance was bound to improve a bit with him as a drinking buddy!” Yamamoto grinned and scratched the back of his neck again as Reborn set about having more vodka delivered to the room.

“If Xanxus hears you calling him your “drinking buddy” he's going to set Bester on your Swallow again...” Reborn nodded absently at the maid as she all but dropped the heavy box of “booze” on the edge of the desk. In a matter of seconds they were back to drinking, the pause while they had waited for the next bottle to arrive had given them both a chance to clear their heads a bit and neither was willing to loose control.

It was about an hour and six bottles of Premium Russian Vodka later that two hit men found themselves anything but in control. The floor around they're feet was swamped with bottles and discarded glasses, Yamamoto's chair was giving way after being thrown across the room by Reborn after a somewhat callus joke about his old disguises and the man in question was slouched deep in his chair, tie hanging loose around his neck, his sleeves rolled up and his shirt neck open to the last 3 buttons.

Yamamoto poured yet another round, his aim slightly off but not really making a difference to the already splattered table top. The chair beneath him creaked and Yamamoto just made it to standing before the leg finally gave way and it toppled,useless and broken to the floor.

“Oh dear, looks like you'll have to continue standing” Reborn dead panned, fingering the elastic of one of his braces as Yamamoto all but pouted at him.

“That wouldn't be fair though, would it Reborn. You wouldn't want Colonello to find out you'd won with such an unfair advantage”. He harrumphed under his breath, remarking that he didn't need an unfair advantage to win against him but Yamamoto's gaze didn't waver. So, pushing his chair away from the table he lowered his feet from the drawer they were resting on and gestured at his lap.

“ I don't get you Reborn.” Yamamoto laughed nervously, his easygoing façade forgotten after the fourth bottle had been demolished somewhere around two and three o'clock. Reborn bit back a sigh and patted his lap expectantly, slightly regretting not having his hat to hide his smirk behind.

“You said you wanted a fair match, sit down. Are you going to finish this or are you just going to keep stalling?” There was an air of challenge to Reborn's voice, and in his increasingly drunken state, Yamamoto was finding it hard to back down. So, with all the grace a drunken assassin could muster, he navigated his way around the table and sat gingerly in the hit man's lap, his legs draped over the left arm of the chair as Reborn's arm snaked around his back to support him. Rolling his eyes, and almost falling off Reborn's lap at the same time, he reached forwards to grab two of the glasses between his thumb and forefinger, and handed them to Reborn.

Clinking the glasses together, and almost missing, they both tipped their heads back and drank, neither removing their gaze from the other. The competition continued in this direction for several more rounds as Reborn's hands grew increasingly bolder, one resting high on Yamamoto's thigh as the other trailed to his lower back, his thumb brushing the skin above the guardians trousers in slow, teasing swipes.

Yamamoto found himself slumping boneless into Reborn's chest, his face hovering dangerously close to Reborn's as both of them stalled in pouring the next round. Goose flesh was rising on his neck as Yamamoto's breath tickled the skin with each exhale, staring openly into Reborn's own gaze, his pupils blown and hazy as his eyelashes brushed his cheeks with every blink.

It seemed only natural for the hitman to lean in and press his lips to the Yamamoto's. It was the briefest kiss Reborn had ever experienced, more a pressing of lips than an actual kiss but it seemed to break something hanging in the air between the two. The empty glass slid unnoticed from Yamamoto's fingers and rolled noisily across the wooden floor under the desk. Neither paid it any attention as they sat frozen, staring into each others eyes, the atmosphere growing painfully thick.

Yamamoto licked his lips nervously, and Reborn decided that he'd let the suspense build enough and that he was drunk enough to do what ever the hell he wanted, so he leaned in again to press his cool lips to Yamamoto's, who squirmed slightly in his lap at the strange sensation. The high from the first brush of lips wore off quickly, and Yamamoto's were soft and pliant against his own as he began to shift and brush his own against them. The rough feeling of Yamamoto's tongue sneaking out to taste the corner of his lips had Reborn growling against his lips, his own tongue sliding out to twist against it. As they slid against each other in gentle swipes, he took advantage of Yamamoto's in voluntary gasp to fully push his tongue into the slick heat of his mouth.

Things began to progress faster as Reborn's tongue slid over the tips of Yamamoto's deceptively sharp teeth, Yamamoto's tongue now doing a fantastic job of thoroughly examining his tonsils and mapping out the deepest depths of his mouth. The hand that had been resting casually over Reborn's shoulders now came up to grip at his hair, fingers clutching at thick spikes of hair he had given up attempting to tame decades ago. The hand on Yamamoto's thigh dragged higher, resting inches from his hipbone and burning an infuriating heat through the fabric of his trousers. The fingers teasing the skin exposed at his waist slid brazenly under his shirt, bunching the fabric rough palms slid over the muscles of Yamamoto's back.

Reborn's touch was burning Yamamoto's body as he gasped helplessly into the man's mouth, tongue plundering Yamamoto's mouth with persistent jabs. Both hands on Yamamoto's body disappeared as Reborn hastily ripped the shirt open, pushing it off the swordsman's shoulders until they fell to his elbows before allowing his hands to roam over the hot, pliant body again. Unfortunately, with his body pressed sideways to Reborn's, one arm gripping the seat of the chair to keep him seated on Reborn's lap, there wasn't much Reborn could get his hands on. There was no way in hell his inebriated body was going to be able to get the young man's trousers off without one of them eating floor and breaking something. Grunting in frustration as Yamamoto writhed in his lap, Reborn decided that his greatest priority was getting his onto the nearest horizontal surface so he could properly abuse that body before he passed out from the lack of blood in his head.

With a grunt he pulled away from Yamamoto's skilled mouth, resisting the urge to just throw him to the floor and have his way with him. As though predicting Reborn's intentions he hastily slipped from his lap leaving Reborn spluttering at the sudden lack of pressure on his crotch. And after deciding that he was far too drunk to make it across the room without destroying the mood, and several pieces of furniture, Yamamoto determinedly swept everything from the surface of the desk before clambering onto the desk top with a barley concealed wobble.

Mentally adding “drunken determined Yamamoto” to his list of Hottest things he has ever seen, Reborn leapt from his chair with new found vigour, grabbing Yamamoto's knees and pulling them apart to clutch at his hips as he all but dragged his to the edge of the desk. Yamamoto's shirt was still pooled at his elbows, preventing him from moving much, so Reborn decided to save them both time and pull off his own shirt, forgetting the loosened tie around his neck in his haste to get skin to skin with the man before him. By this time Yamamoto had managed to wrestle his own uncooperative arms from his shirt and he grabbed Reborn's tie, firmly pulling his bare chest to bare chest in another searing kiss that had Reborn wondering exactly how experienced the assassin really was in this department.

Fumbling hands pulled at the trousers around Yamamoto's hips and he clumsily lifted himself up off the table to allow the older hitman to pull them down off his legs, leaving him seated naked on his own desk. His lips pressed insistently against Yamamoto's, Reborn hurried to remove his own trousers, reluctant to break the kiss as Yamamoto's tongue did something to the underside of his own that had his eyes crossing and his hands clutching the others hips almost desperately as he ground his now free groin against Yamamoto's, remembering at the last second to pull the tie from around his neck.

Things continued that way for a few minutes, the exquisite feel of skin against skin systematically destroying any thoughts Reborn may have had as Yamamoto wrapped his legs tighter around Reborn's back, his heels digging into the man's back as he pressed his own heated flesh against Yamamoto's in firm circles. The slip and slid of his own cock against the younger man's had delicious heat dragging up his spine, his toes curling as he gripped tighter at the others hips. In an act entirely unlike himself, Reborn tore his lips from Yamamoto's to bite at his collarbones, nipping at the skin as he sucked and soothed it with his tongue, angry red smudges beginning to pepper the pale, unblemished skin. He bit down particularly hard at a spot on his neck as Yamamoto's tongue licked a stripe up the soft skin under his jaw, the rough, slippery touch sending more heat to pool at the base of his spine.
"Ngg ah lube...where's lube...” he grunted against Yamamoto's neck, panting heavily at the heated skin. Prying his eyes open from where he'd closed them at Reborn's ministrations, Yamamoto gathered his wits long enough to grasp for the left drawer of the desk, his hand fumbling over the handle twice before Reborn smacked it away and jerked the drawer open, his hands searching blindly before he managed to grasp the small bottle at the back.

“In...in your desk? How many people do you have bending you over it that you keep a bottle handy?” Reborn grunted against his throat as he twisted the lid from the bottle and poured the clear liquid over his fingers, coating them with the slippery liquid.
“'Course not Reborn, you know me. I just like to be ngah-prepared!” The words were panted heavily onto Reborn's shoulder, sweat peppering his back as he balanced precariously on the edge of the desk, his thighs holding him off the desk to give the man better access as he pushed two fingers into his body. His nails raked thin red lines across the older hitman's shoulders as the fingers were pushed in past the knuckle, scissoring his fingers and attempting to twist his wrist at the same time despite the awkward angle.

“Fuck it, I'm ready, I'm ready. Lets go!” Yamamoto growled out, his normal easy going attitude gone with his trousers. Reborn was once again reeling at the older Yamamoto's change, somehow he'd missed the change in his personality, failed to notice that the carefree, grinning idiot was apparently a façade put on to disguise a deeper, more complex personality. Admittedly, he was a bit pissed to have only noticed it when the boy had been drunk enough to let the mask slip a bit, but he had to once admit to some feelings of pride at being the one to spot his potential. Then again, he was admittedly smugger for subconsciously spotting someone who would grow to be an extremely attractive man with a illicit body, a body currently wrapped around his waist, naked, squeezing around his fingers like a vice.

Bollocks.

If he says he's ready, then he's fucking ready!

Yamamoto let out a noise crossed between a hiss and a mewl as Reborn pulled his fingers from the tight heat, squirming on the desk as his legs were pulled even higher on his the man's hips. He leant back, planting his hands firmly on the desktop behind him as Reborn lined himself up. Flashing a furtive glance at Yamamoto to make sure he was ready, and receiving a jerking nod in reply, he slowly pushed in, vision becoming blurred as his member was enveloped into the impossibly tight heat. Raw fire dragged up his spine as he settled deep in Yamamoto, resisting the urge to just pound into the body spread prone on the desk in front of him.

After the first few shallow thrusts, Yamamoto felt his arms giving way, shaking at the strain of holding himself up as Reborn slowly pistoned his hips, and lowered his arms until only his elbows were supporting him. He let his head fall back, giving Reborn the most arousing image he would ever have burnt into his memory. His chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles trembling with exertion and his chest rising and falling quickly as he panted. He couldn't see his face, but he could see his neck stretched so invitingly for him to lean forwards and nip at, littering the skin with yet more bites and bruises. Reborn could already see bruises starting to appear on Yamamoto's narrow hips as he clung to them like a lifeline.

His foot slipped on the floor, which wouldn't have been much of an issue had he not been so astronomically drunk that it caused him to overbalance and tip forward, plunging himself deeper than ever into Yamamoto in one fluid thrust. The younger man arched up, his eyes slamming shut as Reborn slid in so much deeper than before, his cock pulsing heavily inside him. Everything went white, his body snapping impossibly taut as an guttural growl left his lips. He came heavily over Reborn's abdomen, his body clenching erratically around Reborn's member and dragging him kicking and screaming to his own climax. It was like being hit by a hammer, the blood rushing so quickly back to his head he thought he'd pass out.

By the roaring in his ears, Reborn decided that Yamamoto had somehow broken his body, possibly his mind, but couldn't really find it in himself to complain. Not when he was about to pass out right there on the spot, still buried deep inside Yamamoto's tight body, a body that was still clenching erratically around him making him stutter and moan the man's name like a mantra.

He pulled out slowly, nearly dropping to the floor as the alcohol seemed to flood into his body and Yamamoto let out a truly illicit groan. His hips were stiff and he could feel the cum already starting to dry and pull on his stomach. Steadying himself against the desk, he looked down at Yamamoto who was still lying prostrate over the top of his own desk, his head hanging just off the edge as his thighs rested against the other edge. His breathing had slowed to an almost normal level, and Reborn was convinced that if he didn't move the man to the bed he'd probably fall asleep spread right there.

So, pushing himself onto both feet and steadying himself, he pulled the reluctant and thoroughly fucked man up against his side before leading them both towards where he assumed the bathroom was. He spent a few minutes, Yamamoto propped against the sink, wiping himself clean with a cool cloth before cleaning the other as well with quick wipes. He sighed at the cool water on his heated flesh, making sure to wipe the sweat from his brow as well when it began to cool uncomfortably against his skin. Then, balancing himself against the bathroom wall he led Yamamoto back to the bed, dodging empty bottles that made his mouth turn unpleasantly dry before slumping into the godly comfort of the mattress.

Yamamoto fell on top of him, his body sagging almost immediately as exhaustion hit him fully, his face nuzzling lazily into Reborn's neck as he made himself comfortable settling in between his legs, his arms wrapped loosely around the other males waist. Chuckling to himself, a satisfactory ache in his lower back as he slipped further into the bedding. He pressed a button on the side of the bed, vaguely interested by the curtains closing while Yamamoto languidly searched through the bedside cabinet with one arm, finally pulling back with a bottle of painkillers in one hand which he placed next to the glass of water left by the maids earlier when they had dropped off the last of the vodka.

“You'll thank me in the morning...” Yamamoto had mumbled as he pressed his face into Reborn's chest, finally succumbing to sleep. Reborn merely smirked in response and closed his eyes, drifting into a dreamless sleep instantly.

“It's kinda difficult to stay asleep when you've got a hard on pressed against my chest haha”

Reborn snapped out of his reminiscing at the throaty chuckle. The cheerful, ever smiling Yamamoto he was used to grinning up at him through sleep hooded eyes. His smile lacked its usual brilliance, a sign of the terrible hangover he must have been experiencing. Reborn smirked down at him, despite the slight embarrassment he was feeling at waking Yamamoto in such a unseemly manner.

“Shouldn't wiggle in your sleep then...” he mumbled half-heartedly, offering a bottle of painkillers to Yamamoto who to Reborn's confusion rejected them with barely a glance.

“Oh ha-ha I don't really get hangovers! I'm just feeling a little sticky and sore is all really, nothing a good shower can't cure” he grinned bashfully at Reborn, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck in an attempt to pacify him. Reborn responded at first by raising an eyebrow. Yamamoto grin lessened a watt.

“Bull shit. No one drinks that much and doesn't get hungover, stop trying to save face”

“Haha, no really! I must have a fast metabolism I guess, you aren't looking to good yourself though Reborn....do you want some more water” Yamamoto cast a furtive glance at the half drank water on the bedside table. Reborn snorted petulantly and fell back into the pillows.

“Shut up idiot, go back to sleep”

“Ha ha, what ever Reborn”
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Damn those prompts!