Want Me
folder
+G to L › Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
15,195
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
+G to L › Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
15,195
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 1
A/N: So, here is the next chapter. I am going to update again tomorrow and again the next day until both my FanFiction account and this account correspond. So, first actual chapter...here we go!
Word Count: 3,720
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x--x--x
Chapter 1
Symptoms
x--x--x
Tsuna woke in a sweat, sheets tangled around his legs and knees drawn up. Panting he sat up, eyes blinking blearily about the room, trying to regain his bearings. A sudden flush danced across his cheeks as he realized his hand was under his boxers, stroking his hardened member almost pitifully. Groaning, he removed it, flopping back onto the pillows. This was the fourth time tonight. Damn Reborn for putting such thoughts in his head; now he couldn’t close his eyes without feeling one of his Guardian’s hands on him, one of his Guardian’s lips sucking at his skin, one of his Guardian’s taking him in their mouth –
“No,” he groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. This was nonsense! Complete and utter nonsense! Where, in the rulebook of becoming a patient and merciful Mafia boss, did it state that he had to give himself to one of his Guardians for the betterment of the family? And why was he even considering giving himself to one of them? Why couldn’t he find a nice girl, outside the family, let her have her way with him, and be done with the entire thing?
He turned his head to the side with a sigh. His erection was ground painfully into the mattress below and he knew that if he thought anymore about sex, Guardians, and what they could do to him, he would be permanently attached to his shower, with it consistently on cold. His eyes caught sight of the clock and he groaned. He had another hour and a half until he had to pick up his Storm Guardian. He shifted slightly and his eyes nearly crossed at the feeling of his member sliding across silk. A soft moan escaped him, before he mentally slapped himself. He needed to think of anything but sex and moving and – oh God.
He shifted once more, hands fisted in the sheets, face buried in the pillow to muffle his soft cry. Gods, that felt wonderful. He pulled himself forward, before pushing back, biting his pillow when a strangled moan flitted past his lips. Again, he stopped himself, panting slightly at the burst of pleasure that had come forth from his motions. Struggling to his hands and knees, he took a deep breath and began to think.
He had no idea what the fuck he was doing. And he didn’t need this right now. He had to jump in the shower again. God damn it.
After stumbling into his bathroom and into the icy doom that was his shower, Tsuna leaned his head against the tiled surface, eyes scrunched shut. He had never had this many...dreams in one night before. They usually panned over a few weeks, sometimes a few a month. And never had they involved any of his Guardian’s in any explicit way. But, of course, Reborn had to go change all of that, and now Tsuna couldn’t even sleep without being tormented by images of flush bodies and wanton moans.
“Life hates me,” he moaned, tugging his head upright and stepping out of his shower.
With a sigh, he grabbed his clothing and shrugged it on. Dragging a comb through his tangled locks, he peered at his reflection in the mirror, searching for any warning signs of a mental breakdown. He had to keep up appearances, even when he was screaming on the inside. If Gokudera saw him in such a state of distress, it would only add fodder to the flame and eventually Tsuna would go up in the inferno.
Pulling his tie through, he scrutinized his image one last time before walking out the door, moving softly so as not to alert anyone. When he made it to the garage, he selected his favourite vehicle (a rundown looking BMW; Tsuna’s first) and sat in the seat for ten minutes.
His mind didn’t actually work within those moments; instead, he was assaulted by images of his Guardians in various states of undress. What disturbed him was the fact that Mukuro and Gokudera seemed to be his fixation for the week. And he hadn’t seen nor heard from either in almost two months.
Allowing an exasperated groan to escape his lips, he started the car and drove out of the lot, counting to ten in his head every time he began to traverse down gutter lane. His hands were white knuckled on the wheel as he made the long trek to the airport, using everything in his ‘turn-off’ arsenal to prevent a reoccurrence of his morning activities.
Finally, after running three yellow lights, nearly taking out a young couple on a scooter, and scarring multiple early birds, Tsuna arrived at the airport in one piece. Stumbling out of the car, he apologized profusely to an elderly woman who had practically dived across the crosswalk when Tsuna had pulled in. He helped her up the stairs and ended up accompanying her to her gateway before he could get away.
Sighing, Tsuna leaned against the translucent glass, ignoring everyone and everything around him (save for the exits; Tsuna was obsessed with keeping escape routes visible) until he heard the thin rumble of approaching feet. Turning, his eyes scanned the mountain of people pouring in from the plane, all of them talking fast; some tourists, some business; all incredibly ordinary. He couldn’t find the silver hair and smoky eyes. Frowning, Tsuna stepped forward and tapped one of the clerks on the shoulder.
A blush spread across her cheeks when she met his eyes and Tsuna mentally twitched. He hated that he had that effect on so many people, but was still a blasted virgin. Cursing himself for bringing up the subject, he quickly asked, “Is that everyone off the plane? My friend was supposed to be on that flight.”
The clerk, with her cute blushing cheeks, turned away and asked something into her microphone, receiving an answer almost immediately. She turned to Tsuna, her eyes curious, “There is one left. They’re keeping him on the plane until he puts out his cigarette.”
Tsuna slapped his forehead and strode past her, ignoring her protests as he walked up the ramp. Why did Gokudera always insist on smoking everywhere? Tsuna was tempted more than once to just grab the cancer sticks out of his jacket and blow them up.
Of course, that made him wonder. Did Gokudera taste like the cigarettes he smoked? Flushing, Tsuna mentally swatted away the thought as he reached the planes entrance. He could hear people within shouting, cursing, and threatening. There was the distinct sound of something being lit and Tsuna rushed inside, hoping to stop his Right Hand Man from blowing up the airplane.
Three burly security guards surrounded someone, and Tsuna sighed when he saw them snuffing out Gokudera’s cigarette. The bomb wielded glowered before grabbing another from his pocket and lighting it rebelliously in front of them. With all the commotion inside, no one had noticed Tsuna’s approach. But the moment Tsuna peered into the room, Gokudera seemed to sense him and brightened at the sight of his boss.
“Tenth!”
“Hello, Gokudera,” Tsuna leaned against the doorway, before saying teasingly, “Back in the country for only ten minutes and you’re causing this much trouble?”
Gokudera’s face drooped and he rubbed the back of his head before taking the cigarette from his lips and stomping it out. The security guards stared at Tsuna before returning their attention to their rebellious charge. But Gokudera had already shouldered them out of the way and was standing comfortably beside Tsuna, beaming down at the brunette.
“Well, come on. Let’s get your luggage and go home,” Tsuna grinned, waving slightly at security. They were still staring as the two exited the plane and Tsuna burst out laughing. “Gokudera, why is it every time you return home, you’re always pissing off security?”
Gokudera chuckled before tugging out his cigarette package and lighting another, “It’s my nature. I don’t like security. They’re just a bunch of prissy schoolyard bullies. No fucking backbone.”
Tsuna realized just how much he missed Gokudera’s vulgar vocabulary. He shoved his hands in his pockets when Gokudera lit another cigarette, “I wish you wouldn’t smoke so much. I swear, every day I’m stuck with a bill for at least ten packets. Who smokes ten packs a day?”
Gokudera dragged in a lungful before expelling the cancerous smoke, “I don’t smoke ten packs; just three. The ten are for pissing off Yamamoto.” Gokudera twirled the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, “The idiot is bent on making me quit. So, I just pretend that I’m smoking more just to fuck with him.”
Sighing, Tsuna led Gokudera to the luggage belt, “I wish you wouldn’t smoke so much as well. Cut it down to maybe one and a half, all right?” Gokudera gave him an eyebrow raise before sucking in another lungful and promptly putting it out. When they stopped by the luggage area, Tsuna queried about Gokudera’s trip.
“Canada’s nice. Always is. The people there are actually quiet, unlike that idiotic country they’re neighbours to. Granted, the politicians in Canada are no better than the one’s anywhere else; all full of shit. More than once I was tempted to blow up the damn Prime Minister.”
Laughing, Tsuna recalled, “I remember having to fly to the US because you were being held for possible terrorism. Too many bombs on your body or some such nonsense. They were reluctant to release you even when I arrived.” Tsuna grinned up at his friend, “How was the Bellivin Family?”
“Hospitable. They were annoyingly excited when I stated what family I was from. You’re well known for the Vongola’s increasing peace operations.”
“So, no problems there?”
“Nope. Again, we have added another powerful family to our alliance. Bellivin’s Third was actually hoping to meet the famous Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Gokudera grinned, shoving another cigarette between his lips. Tsuna glared at it and Gokudera took it from his lips with a sheepish smile. He continued after stuffing away his packet in his jean pocket, “Surprisingly, they are one of the top influential families in the West; second only to the Ygrad Family in the US.”
“Which we already have under our alliance.”
“Exactly.”
The room suddenly rumbled and luggage fell onto the conveyor belt in front of them. Both friends lapsed into comfortable silence as they watched people move forward and grab their bags, until they were the only two remaining. Tsuna scratched at his palms, which had suddenly gone hot and cold at the same time. Gokudera’s eyes lit up at the sight of his luggage and he strode forward, leaving Tsuna with suddenly unsafe thoughts.
Shit, he thought, scrunching his eyes closed as a wave of heat curled coltishly about him. Please, not now. Not with Gokudera right here.
His eyes snapped open when he heard his name. Gokudera stood in front of him, stormy eyes curious and hair sliding forward in a shimmer of silver. Tsuna wanted to run his fingers through it, tangle the strands, and pull his Storm Guardian against him. His eyes closed again, this time to block the sight of Gokudera leaning forward to press his forehead against Tsuna’s, checking for a fever. His hand was cool against Tsuna’s forehead, and the Mafia boss just managed to curb the whine that threatened to burst forth when he felt Gokudera’s breath on his lips.
“You’re warm, Tenth. We should probably get you home; Reborn will shoot me if you get sick,” Gokudera pulled away and Tsuna turned his face to the side, expelling a pent up breath. Cursing left and right, he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around one arm, allowing it to hang down in front of his body. He knew he was already hard; damn his virgin libido, it was going to get him in real trouble. A stuttered breath escaped him as he began to walk, Gokudera at his side, looking more and more desirable with every step.
“U-uhm, Gokudera, can you drive? I don’t think I’m well,” Tsuna whispered, scrunching his eyes closed once more as Gokudera stopped him and put a finger under his chin. Catching his breath, he waited for the Storm Guardian to move, but Gokudera simply looked him over and shook his head.
“Reborn’s gonna kill me.”
Tsuna shook Gokudera off and picked up the pace, making it to his vehicle before the bomb wielder and sliding into the passenger seat. Sucking in a breath, he forced his mind away from every promiscuous image of the silver haired fiend that seemed to catch and hold his attention. He heard Gokudera close the trunk before entering the driver’s side and simply sitting. Cracking open an eye, he looked at his friend, only to have his eyes light upon an outstretched hand. Gokudera wanted…something. Something that was not Tsuna jumping him and ravaging him in the airport parking lot.
“Keys?”
“Right.” Tsuna dug in his pocket and tossed the keys to Gokudera, turning his head to look out the window. The scenery outside was safe. All right, he could do this. He could last until they returned to the mansion; until he found Reborn and strangled his tutor for putting such un-Tsuna like thoughts in his head; until he could jump into his shower and pray to whatever God that hated him that he was really, really, sorry.
The ride home was quiet, with Gokudera sparing the brunette worried glances every time Tsuna twitched, which happened with alarming frequency. Tsuna couldn’t seem to focus his mind on anything but pulling the vehicle over and allowing his Storm Guardian to have his way with him. Another spasm wracked his body and he moved his hand under his coat, pressing hard against himself, trying to curb some of the want coursing through his body. But this only ended in the opposite effect; desire pooled, needy and hot in his groin and he gave a pitiful moan.
“Hold on, Tenth. We’re almost home.”
The car jerked forward and Tsuna followed the motion, hands coming out to catch himself. They had just run a red light. Why, again, did he allow Gokudera to drive? The bomb expert was known for his inability to follow any type of law, traffic laws especially. But at least they would arrive at the mansion in record time.
A few more sharp turns, the last one nearly tossing Tsuna into Gokudera’s lap (which was just wonderful for the sexually deprived brunette), and they arrived at the mansion. Tsuna struggled with his belt, finally freeing himself and fleeing the vehicle. He couldn’t stand it anymore. If Gokudera didn’t touch him, kiss him, do something to him in the next five seconds, he was going to lose it.
“No, no, no,” he bolted up the stairs, ignoring Gokudera’s confused cry, and disappeared into the mansion. His feet carried him up the stairs and his mind gave a tingle of warning, but he didn’t listen to it. So, when he turned down his hallway and was promptly thrown backwards, he realized the awareness was simply his mind and body telling him that someone was close. Shaking his head to clear the stars he saw, he glanced up and felt his desire for Gokudera split and multiple into something fierce.
When did Rokudo Mukuro return?
Tsuna’s eyes dragged over Mukuro’s body, each glance making his breath shorten. His fingers itched to trace along the firm jaw and tug on the thick strands of blue-black hair. He felt his body tingle when those mismatched eyes fixed on him and was tempted to try out all of those illusions his Guardian had showed him.
“Ah, Tsunayoshi. I was looking for –”
Tsuna rushed past his Mist Guardian, breath coming in short pants. What was wrong with him? In the span of five minutes, he had jumped from wanting Gokudera to ravage him in his car, to hoping Mukuro’s sexual illusions became a reality. Ripping open his door, he stumbled through, leaning back against the wall with his hands behind his back. Another moan escaped his lips as he slid down the cool oak wood, until he was sitting on the plush carpet with his forehead on his knees.
A light knock made him jerk his head up and he swallowed hard, “Yes?”
“Tenth, are you all right?”
Fuck. Gokudera.
“The idiot tells me that you are unwell, Tsunayoshi. Shall I fetch you medicine?”
And Mukuro. What did I do to deserve this?
“N-no, I’m fine. I just need to lie down for a little while. But, G-Gokudera, could you find me Reborn, please?”
There was a hesitation on the other side and Tsuna felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Used to both Gokudera’s antics and Mukuro’s tricks, Tsuna jumped away from the door, landing beside the couch in a half crouch just as the door exploded inward. He was thrown backwards onto the couch, head hitting painfully against the arm rest. Groaning, he rolled over and off the sofa, landing heavily on the floor.
“Tenth!”
“You idiot. Don’t kill him!”
Two sets of feet approached him, but Tsuna firmly resolved not to open his eyes. When warm hands grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him up, Tsuna kept himself calm, ignoring the heat of those palms on his body, and the whispered breath that danced across his skin when they began to move him. He even managed to ignore his desires when one tripped and collided with him, pushing him against the other.
But when they put him down on his bed and he felt someone leaning over him, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to feel someone and he didn’t care who it was.
His hands shot upwards, fingers coiling into silky strands, and a hot mouth descended on his own. He arched into the body, ignoring the gasp of surprise from the mouth and the squawk of indignation from the other occupant of his room. He felt hands land on either side of his chest and couldn’t stop the whine of want that escaped his lips when one of those hands brushed his side.
It ended far too soon. Those soft lips moved away from his and he was left gasping on the pillows, feeling cheated, but at the same time more excited than even in his dreams. His eyes fluttered open and he stared into the shocked stormy orbs of Gokudera, whose face was still leaning close, whose hands were still inches from his sides. Tsuna allowed his fingers to sift through those silver strands, enjoying the silky feel. Gokudera seemed to mentally shake himself before trying to pull away, a delicate blush decorating his cheeks.
“Tenth –”
By now, Tsuna was ignoring every rational thought swarming about his fragile mind. Many of them circled around releasing Gokudera, blasting the duo out of his room, and refusing to leave for a month. Instead, his fingers tightened and he brought Gokudera down once again, brushing his lips softly over the Storm Guardians’.
“Gokudera, call me Tsuna.”
He pressed his mouth firmly against the bomb experts’, loving the feel of those velvety lips. The hands by his sides tightened into fists and Gokudera suddenly leaned forward, pressing him back into the pillows, tongue swiping across the seam of his lips. He greedily allowed Gokudera entrance, hands fisting in his hair, tugging him forward, pressing them together. Gokudera did taste like cigarettes, with a hint of cinnamon. Tsuna couldn’t get enough of the taste and as Gokudera angled his head to deepen the kiss, the Storm Guardian was suddenly thrown to the side, leaving Tsuna alone, breath coming in short pants.
A mismatched pair of eyes entered his vision, hands smoothing down his chest and stomach. Hissing at the feeling, Tsuna latched his fingers onto the pale wrist and brought the hand closer to his face, dragging the palm across his neck and to his lips. Mukuro’s eyes widened as the delirious Mafia boss kissed each finger, keeping his eyes fixated on Mukuro’s expression.
The Mist Guardian leaned forward, replacing his fingers with his mouth. Tsuna hummed into his lips, one hand still hooked onto Mukuro’s wrist and the other knotting in thick locks. He gasped when Mukuro dusted his sides and then he was tasting vanilla and cherry. The illusionist grinned into the kiss, angling his head and running his tongue along the roof of Tsuna’s mouth before tangling the brunette’s tongue with his own.
Exhilarated by his capture, Tsuna arched his back, loving the way Mukuro’s body seemed to shudder above him. His other hand was suddenly pulled from the illusionist’s hair and both were trapped between their bodies, leaving Tsuna completely vulnerable. But he didn’t care. His mouth moved timidly against Mukuro’s, tongue playing almost meekly with the dark haired Guardians’. And when they broke away, Tsuna keened at the loss.
“Hush, Tsunayoshi. Why are we so eager?” the words were breathed into his ear, and Tsuna moaned, feeling that tactile tongue dance along the rim before moving to nibble on the lobe.
Silver hair caught Tsuna’s vision and suddenly Mukuro released one of his hands. His fingers twined with Gokudera’s and he gasped when the Storm Guardian’s other hand began smoothing the skin on his hip. His shirt was slowly pushed up and Mukuro grinned into his cheek, joining Gokudera’s questing hand. Tsuna couldn’t concentrate. Both of his hands were pushed above his head, held by two different people. His eyes nearly crossed when one hand danced across the seam of his pants, and the other dragged along his chest, barely touching.
Two. There were two of them, each making him want, each fulfilling his needs. Tsuna’s mind went wild, and he felt the heat course through him in droves. He felt his body move of its own will, pants annoyingly tight.
The sound of a gun cocking was all the warning they had. Gokudera’s arm wrapped around Tsuna and he threw them both to the side; Mukuro flattened himself to the bed just as a bullet whizzed by, lodging in the headboard. Both Guardians stared into the eyes of an agitated Reborn and his smoking gun.
Tsuna had lost all interest in continuing the moment he saw Reborn. His body shook from the repercussion and he slumped to the floor, barely hearing Gokudera’s shout. Mukuro was by his side as well, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Leave.”
Both Guardians looked at Reborn, who had moved farther into the room. They didn’t hesitate; leaving Tsuna on the carpet, both hurried out of the room.
Sighing, Reborn regarded the barely lucid Tsuna, “We seem to have a problem, Tsuna.”
The world faded to grey.
Word Count: 3,720
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x--x--x
Chapter 1
Symptoms
x--x--x
Tsuna woke in a sweat, sheets tangled around his legs and knees drawn up. Panting he sat up, eyes blinking blearily about the room, trying to regain his bearings. A sudden flush danced across his cheeks as he realized his hand was under his boxers, stroking his hardened member almost pitifully. Groaning, he removed it, flopping back onto the pillows. This was the fourth time tonight. Damn Reborn for putting such thoughts in his head; now he couldn’t close his eyes without feeling one of his Guardian’s hands on him, one of his Guardian’s lips sucking at his skin, one of his Guardian’s taking him in their mouth –
“No,” he groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. This was nonsense! Complete and utter nonsense! Where, in the rulebook of becoming a patient and merciful Mafia boss, did it state that he had to give himself to one of his Guardians for the betterment of the family? And why was he even considering giving himself to one of them? Why couldn’t he find a nice girl, outside the family, let her have her way with him, and be done with the entire thing?
He turned his head to the side with a sigh. His erection was ground painfully into the mattress below and he knew that if he thought anymore about sex, Guardians, and what they could do to him, he would be permanently attached to his shower, with it consistently on cold. His eyes caught sight of the clock and he groaned. He had another hour and a half until he had to pick up his Storm Guardian. He shifted slightly and his eyes nearly crossed at the feeling of his member sliding across silk. A soft moan escaped him, before he mentally slapped himself. He needed to think of anything but sex and moving and – oh God.
He shifted once more, hands fisted in the sheets, face buried in the pillow to muffle his soft cry. Gods, that felt wonderful. He pulled himself forward, before pushing back, biting his pillow when a strangled moan flitted past his lips. Again, he stopped himself, panting slightly at the burst of pleasure that had come forth from his motions. Struggling to his hands and knees, he took a deep breath and began to think.
He had no idea what the fuck he was doing. And he didn’t need this right now. He had to jump in the shower again. God damn it.
After stumbling into his bathroom and into the icy doom that was his shower, Tsuna leaned his head against the tiled surface, eyes scrunched shut. He had never had this many...dreams in one night before. They usually panned over a few weeks, sometimes a few a month. And never had they involved any of his Guardian’s in any explicit way. But, of course, Reborn had to go change all of that, and now Tsuna couldn’t even sleep without being tormented by images of flush bodies and wanton moans.
“Life hates me,” he moaned, tugging his head upright and stepping out of his shower.
With a sigh, he grabbed his clothing and shrugged it on. Dragging a comb through his tangled locks, he peered at his reflection in the mirror, searching for any warning signs of a mental breakdown. He had to keep up appearances, even when he was screaming on the inside. If Gokudera saw him in such a state of distress, it would only add fodder to the flame and eventually Tsuna would go up in the inferno.
Pulling his tie through, he scrutinized his image one last time before walking out the door, moving softly so as not to alert anyone. When he made it to the garage, he selected his favourite vehicle (a rundown looking BMW; Tsuna’s first) and sat in the seat for ten minutes.
His mind didn’t actually work within those moments; instead, he was assaulted by images of his Guardians in various states of undress. What disturbed him was the fact that Mukuro and Gokudera seemed to be his fixation for the week. And he hadn’t seen nor heard from either in almost two months.
Allowing an exasperated groan to escape his lips, he started the car and drove out of the lot, counting to ten in his head every time he began to traverse down gutter lane. His hands were white knuckled on the wheel as he made the long trek to the airport, using everything in his ‘turn-off’ arsenal to prevent a reoccurrence of his morning activities.
Finally, after running three yellow lights, nearly taking out a young couple on a scooter, and scarring multiple early birds, Tsuna arrived at the airport in one piece. Stumbling out of the car, he apologized profusely to an elderly woman who had practically dived across the crosswalk when Tsuna had pulled in. He helped her up the stairs and ended up accompanying her to her gateway before he could get away.
Sighing, Tsuna leaned against the translucent glass, ignoring everyone and everything around him (save for the exits; Tsuna was obsessed with keeping escape routes visible) until he heard the thin rumble of approaching feet. Turning, his eyes scanned the mountain of people pouring in from the plane, all of them talking fast; some tourists, some business; all incredibly ordinary. He couldn’t find the silver hair and smoky eyes. Frowning, Tsuna stepped forward and tapped one of the clerks on the shoulder.
A blush spread across her cheeks when she met his eyes and Tsuna mentally twitched. He hated that he had that effect on so many people, but was still a blasted virgin. Cursing himself for bringing up the subject, he quickly asked, “Is that everyone off the plane? My friend was supposed to be on that flight.”
The clerk, with her cute blushing cheeks, turned away and asked something into her microphone, receiving an answer almost immediately. She turned to Tsuna, her eyes curious, “There is one left. They’re keeping him on the plane until he puts out his cigarette.”
Tsuna slapped his forehead and strode past her, ignoring her protests as he walked up the ramp. Why did Gokudera always insist on smoking everywhere? Tsuna was tempted more than once to just grab the cancer sticks out of his jacket and blow them up.
Of course, that made him wonder. Did Gokudera taste like the cigarettes he smoked? Flushing, Tsuna mentally swatted away the thought as he reached the planes entrance. He could hear people within shouting, cursing, and threatening. There was the distinct sound of something being lit and Tsuna rushed inside, hoping to stop his Right Hand Man from blowing up the airplane.
Three burly security guards surrounded someone, and Tsuna sighed when he saw them snuffing out Gokudera’s cigarette. The bomb wielded glowered before grabbing another from his pocket and lighting it rebelliously in front of them. With all the commotion inside, no one had noticed Tsuna’s approach. But the moment Tsuna peered into the room, Gokudera seemed to sense him and brightened at the sight of his boss.
“Tenth!”
“Hello, Gokudera,” Tsuna leaned against the doorway, before saying teasingly, “Back in the country for only ten minutes and you’re causing this much trouble?”
Gokudera’s face drooped and he rubbed the back of his head before taking the cigarette from his lips and stomping it out. The security guards stared at Tsuna before returning their attention to their rebellious charge. But Gokudera had already shouldered them out of the way and was standing comfortably beside Tsuna, beaming down at the brunette.
“Well, come on. Let’s get your luggage and go home,” Tsuna grinned, waving slightly at security. They were still staring as the two exited the plane and Tsuna burst out laughing. “Gokudera, why is it every time you return home, you’re always pissing off security?”
Gokudera chuckled before tugging out his cigarette package and lighting another, “It’s my nature. I don’t like security. They’re just a bunch of prissy schoolyard bullies. No fucking backbone.”
Tsuna realized just how much he missed Gokudera’s vulgar vocabulary. He shoved his hands in his pockets when Gokudera lit another cigarette, “I wish you wouldn’t smoke so much. I swear, every day I’m stuck with a bill for at least ten packets. Who smokes ten packs a day?”
Gokudera dragged in a lungful before expelling the cancerous smoke, “I don’t smoke ten packs; just three. The ten are for pissing off Yamamoto.” Gokudera twirled the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, “The idiot is bent on making me quit. So, I just pretend that I’m smoking more just to fuck with him.”
Sighing, Tsuna led Gokudera to the luggage belt, “I wish you wouldn’t smoke so much as well. Cut it down to maybe one and a half, all right?” Gokudera gave him an eyebrow raise before sucking in another lungful and promptly putting it out. When they stopped by the luggage area, Tsuna queried about Gokudera’s trip.
“Canada’s nice. Always is. The people there are actually quiet, unlike that idiotic country they’re neighbours to. Granted, the politicians in Canada are no better than the one’s anywhere else; all full of shit. More than once I was tempted to blow up the damn Prime Minister.”
Laughing, Tsuna recalled, “I remember having to fly to the US because you were being held for possible terrorism. Too many bombs on your body or some such nonsense. They were reluctant to release you even when I arrived.” Tsuna grinned up at his friend, “How was the Bellivin Family?”
“Hospitable. They were annoyingly excited when I stated what family I was from. You’re well known for the Vongola’s increasing peace operations.”
“So, no problems there?”
“Nope. Again, we have added another powerful family to our alliance. Bellivin’s Third was actually hoping to meet the famous Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Gokudera grinned, shoving another cigarette between his lips. Tsuna glared at it and Gokudera took it from his lips with a sheepish smile. He continued after stuffing away his packet in his jean pocket, “Surprisingly, they are one of the top influential families in the West; second only to the Ygrad Family in the US.”
“Which we already have under our alliance.”
“Exactly.”
The room suddenly rumbled and luggage fell onto the conveyor belt in front of them. Both friends lapsed into comfortable silence as they watched people move forward and grab their bags, until they were the only two remaining. Tsuna scratched at his palms, which had suddenly gone hot and cold at the same time. Gokudera’s eyes lit up at the sight of his luggage and he strode forward, leaving Tsuna with suddenly unsafe thoughts.
Shit, he thought, scrunching his eyes closed as a wave of heat curled coltishly about him. Please, not now. Not with Gokudera right here.
His eyes snapped open when he heard his name. Gokudera stood in front of him, stormy eyes curious and hair sliding forward in a shimmer of silver. Tsuna wanted to run his fingers through it, tangle the strands, and pull his Storm Guardian against him. His eyes closed again, this time to block the sight of Gokudera leaning forward to press his forehead against Tsuna’s, checking for a fever. His hand was cool against Tsuna’s forehead, and the Mafia boss just managed to curb the whine that threatened to burst forth when he felt Gokudera’s breath on his lips.
“You’re warm, Tenth. We should probably get you home; Reborn will shoot me if you get sick,” Gokudera pulled away and Tsuna turned his face to the side, expelling a pent up breath. Cursing left and right, he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around one arm, allowing it to hang down in front of his body. He knew he was already hard; damn his virgin libido, it was going to get him in real trouble. A stuttered breath escaped him as he began to walk, Gokudera at his side, looking more and more desirable with every step.
“U-uhm, Gokudera, can you drive? I don’t think I’m well,” Tsuna whispered, scrunching his eyes closed once more as Gokudera stopped him and put a finger under his chin. Catching his breath, he waited for the Storm Guardian to move, but Gokudera simply looked him over and shook his head.
“Reborn’s gonna kill me.”
Tsuna shook Gokudera off and picked up the pace, making it to his vehicle before the bomb wielder and sliding into the passenger seat. Sucking in a breath, he forced his mind away from every promiscuous image of the silver haired fiend that seemed to catch and hold his attention. He heard Gokudera close the trunk before entering the driver’s side and simply sitting. Cracking open an eye, he looked at his friend, only to have his eyes light upon an outstretched hand. Gokudera wanted…something. Something that was not Tsuna jumping him and ravaging him in the airport parking lot.
“Keys?”
“Right.” Tsuna dug in his pocket and tossed the keys to Gokudera, turning his head to look out the window. The scenery outside was safe. All right, he could do this. He could last until they returned to the mansion; until he found Reborn and strangled his tutor for putting such un-Tsuna like thoughts in his head; until he could jump into his shower and pray to whatever God that hated him that he was really, really, sorry.
The ride home was quiet, with Gokudera sparing the brunette worried glances every time Tsuna twitched, which happened with alarming frequency. Tsuna couldn’t seem to focus his mind on anything but pulling the vehicle over and allowing his Storm Guardian to have his way with him. Another spasm wracked his body and he moved his hand under his coat, pressing hard against himself, trying to curb some of the want coursing through his body. But this only ended in the opposite effect; desire pooled, needy and hot in his groin and he gave a pitiful moan.
“Hold on, Tenth. We’re almost home.”
The car jerked forward and Tsuna followed the motion, hands coming out to catch himself. They had just run a red light. Why, again, did he allow Gokudera to drive? The bomb expert was known for his inability to follow any type of law, traffic laws especially. But at least they would arrive at the mansion in record time.
A few more sharp turns, the last one nearly tossing Tsuna into Gokudera’s lap (which was just wonderful for the sexually deprived brunette), and they arrived at the mansion. Tsuna struggled with his belt, finally freeing himself and fleeing the vehicle. He couldn’t stand it anymore. If Gokudera didn’t touch him, kiss him, do something to him in the next five seconds, he was going to lose it.
“No, no, no,” he bolted up the stairs, ignoring Gokudera’s confused cry, and disappeared into the mansion. His feet carried him up the stairs and his mind gave a tingle of warning, but he didn’t listen to it. So, when he turned down his hallway and was promptly thrown backwards, he realized the awareness was simply his mind and body telling him that someone was close. Shaking his head to clear the stars he saw, he glanced up and felt his desire for Gokudera split and multiple into something fierce.
When did Rokudo Mukuro return?
Tsuna’s eyes dragged over Mukuro’s body, each glance making his breath shorten. His fingers itched to trace along the firm jaw and tug on the thick strands of blue-black hair. He felt his body tingle when those mismatched eyes fixed on him and was tempted to try out all of those illusions his Guardian had showed him.
“Ah, Tsunayoshi. I was looking for –”
Tsuna rushed past his Mist Guardian, breath coming in short pants. What was wrong with him? In the span of five minutes, he had jumped from wanting Gokudera to ravage him in his car, to hoping Mukuro’s sexual illusions became a reality. Ripping open his door, he stumbled through, leaning back against the wall with his hands behind his back. Another moan escaped his lips as he slid down the cool oak wood, until he was sitting on the plush carpet with his forehead on his knees.
A light knock made him jerk his head up and he swallowed hard, “Yes?”
“Tenth, are you all right?”
Fuck. Gokudera.
“The idiot tells me that you are unwell, Tsunayoshi. Shall I fetch you medicine?”
And Mukuro. What did I do to deserve this?
“N-no, I’m fine. I just need to lie down for a little while. But, G-Gokudera, could you find me Reborn, please?”
There was a hesitation on the other side and Tsuna felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Used to both Gokudera’s antics and Mukuro’s tricks, Tsuna jumped away from the door, landing beside the couch in a half crouch just as the door exploded inward. He was thrown backwards onto the couch, head hitting painfully against the arm rest. Groaning, he rolled over and off the sofa, landing heavily on the floor.
“Tenth!”
“You idiot. Don’t kill him!”
Two sets of feet approached him, but Tsuna firmly resolved not to open his eyes. When warm hands grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him up, Tsuna kept himself calm, ignoring the heat of those palms on his body, and the whispered breath that danced across his skin when they began to move him. He even managed to ignore his desires when one tripped and collided with him, pushing him against the other.
But when they put him down on his bed and he felt someone leaning over him, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to feel someone and he didn’t care who it was.
His hands shot upwards, fingers coiling into silky strands, and a hot mouth descended on his own. He arched into the body, ignoring the gasp of surprise from the mouth and the squawk of indignation from the other occupant of his room. He felt hands land on either side of his chest and couldn’t stop the whine of want that escaped his lips when one of those hands brushed his side.
It ended far too soon. Those soft lips moved away from his and he was left gasping on the pillows, feeling cheated, but at the same time more excited than even in his dreams. His eyes fluttered open and he stared into the shocked stormy orbs of Gokudera, whose face was still leaning close, whose hands were still inches from his sides. Tsuna allowed his fingers to sift through those silver strands, enjoying the silky feel. Gokudera seemed to mentally shake himself before trying to pull away, a delicate blush decorating his cheeks.
“Tenth –”
By now, Tsuna was ignoring every rational thought swarming about his fragile mind. Many of them circled around releasing Gokudera, blasting the duo out of his room, and refusing to leave for a month. Instead, his fingers tightened and he brought Gokudera down once again, brushing his lips softly over the Storm Guardians’.
“Gokudera, call me Tsuna.”
He pressed his mouth firmly against the bomb experts’, loving the feel of those velvety lips. The hands by his sides tightened into fists and Gokudera suddenly leaned forward, pressing him back into the pillows, tongue swiping across the seam of his lips. He greedily allowed Gokudera entrance, hands fisting in his hair, tugging him forward, pressing them together. Gokudera did taste like cigarettes, with a hint of cinnamon. Tsuna couldn’t get enough of the taste and as Gokudera angled his head to deepen the kiss, the Storm Guardian was suddenly thrown to the side, leaving Tsuna alone, breath coming in short pants.
A mismatched pair of eyes entered his vision, hands smoothing down his chest and stomach. Hissing at the feeling, Tsuna latched his fingers onto the pale wrist and brought the hand closer to his face, dragging the palm across his neck and to his lips. Mukuro’s eyes widened as the delirious Mafia boss kissed each finger, keeping his eyes fixated on Mukuro’s expression.
The Mist Guardian leaned forward, replacing his fingers with his mouth. Tsuna hummed into his lips, one hand still hooked onto Mukuro’s wrist and the other knotting in thick locks. He gasped when Mukuro dusted his sides and then he was tasting vanilla and cherry. The illusionist grinned into the kiss, angling his head and running his tongue along the roof of Tsuna’s mouth before tangling the brunette’s tongue with his own.
Exhilarated by his capture, Tsuna arched his back, loving the way Mukuro’s body seemed to shudder above him. His other hand was suddenly pulled from the illusionist’s hair and both were trapped between their bodies, leaving Tsuna completely vulnerable. But he didn’t care. His mouth moved timidly against Mukuro’s, tongue playing almost meekly with the dark haired Guardians’. And when they broke away, Tsuna keened at the loss.
“Hush, Tsunayoshi. Why are we so eager?” the words were breathed into his ear, and Tsuna moaned, feeling that tactile tongue dance along the rim before moving to nibble on the lobe.
Silver hair caught Tsuna’s vision and suddenly Mukuro released one of his hands. His fingers twined with Gokudera’s and he gasped when the Storm Guardian’s other hand began smoothing the skin on his hip. His shirt was slowly pushed up and Mukuro grinned into his cheek, joining Gokudera’s questing hand. Tsuna couldn’t concentrate. Both of his hands were pushed above his head, held by two different people. His eyes nearly crossed when one hand danced across the seam of his pants, and the other dragged along his chest, barely touching.
Two. There were two of them, each making him want, each fulfilling his needs. Tsuna’s mind went wild, and he felt the heat course through him in droves. He felt his body move of its own will, pants annoyingly tight.
The sound of a gun cocking was all the warning they had. Gokudera’s arm wrapped around Tsuna and he threw them both to the side; Mukuro flattened himself to the bed just as a bullet whizzed by, lodging in the headboard. Both Guardians stared into the eyes of an agitated Reborn and his smoking gun.
Tsuna had lost all interest in continuing the moment he saw Reborn. His body shook from the repercussion and he slumped to the floor, barely hearing Gokudera’s shout. Mukuro was by his side as well, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Leave.”
Both Guardians looked at Reborn, who had moved farther into the room. They didn’t hesitate; leaving Tsuna on the carpet, both hurried out of the room.
Sighing, Reborn regarded the barely lucid Tsuna, “We seem to have a problem, Tsuna.”
The world faded to grey.