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Skin Deep
By : bexara
Category: +G to L > Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Views: 2241 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or make $$ off of it.
Chapter List
- 1-Skin Deep
- 1
Pairing: Xanxus x Squalo

Where the fuck was the beef fillet? Superbi Squalo rooted angrily through the mounds of meat they had brought with them. That shitty boss! Just because he was in a bad mood, he was making life miserable for the rest of them.

Of course, Xanxus was always in a temper, so they were all pretty much used to it. Still, this time his disposition was particularly foul. The reasons were not hard to guess. One, they had found out the Millefiore Family’s Funeral Wreaths were all fakes. The Varia had wasted time and energy going after the impostors, an insult to everything they stood for. Two, because of the threat to the Vongola Family, the Varia was being forced to join forces with young Sawada Tsunayoshi. The kid’s name alone was taboo with Xanxus. Having to actually fight alongside the brat was enraging. Xanxus was quite brutally making known his displeasure with the entire situation. Half of the minions summoned for this mission lay beaten and bruised, rendered completely useless for battle by the boss’s tantrum. Now, the fool threatened to burn the rest of them to a crisp if he didn’t get beef fillet for dinner.

After several more minutes of searching, Squalo finally found the stupid meat. He threw it at the person anxiously wringing his hands on the other side of the room.

“Voooi, fucking cook! Get to work. And, it better be the best damn meal you have ever made or the boss will rip your face off. And, if he doesn’t I will.”

The cook paled and nodded nervously. Squalo left him there and decided to go upstairs to take a shower. After pawing through pounds and pounds of meat, he really needed one. His foot was on the bottom stair, his shirt already stripped off, when one of the Varia underlings called to him.

“Commander Squalo.”

Squalo turned and glared at the man.

“What?”

The man, whose name he didn’t bother to remember, held up a wireless transmitter.

“There is a call for you from the Vongola base in Japan.”

What the hell did those stupid kids want? Squalo’s pale brows drew together in annoyance. He held out his hand impatiently for the device. The man gave it to him, bowed, and hurried off.

Squalo stuck the unit in his ear and continued up the stairs.

“Who is this, and what do you want?” he barked into the transmitter.

“Um, it’s Yamamoto Takeshi.”

“So it’s you, shitty katana brat!” Squalo left the stairs and turned down the hall toward his room.

“Well, why did you call me, brat?” he asked impatiently when Yamamoto stayed silent.

“Ah, I wanted to talk to you about something. I watched the videos you made. You know, the ones about the path to becoming the sword emperor.”

The kid’s voice held a serious note. Squalo smirked. He had sent those videos to the brat’s adult counterpart in part to show off, but also to pull the idiot back onto the path of the sword. He wanted a rematch with the kid so bad he could taste it; the defeat he had suffered at the other’s hands in the Ring Battle still ate at him to this day.

Reaching his room, he pushed the door open and started to give the brat a smug response when a hard, vicious kick to his ass sent him lurching into his room. The transmitter flew out of his ear as he landed on his hands and knees. Only one person dared to treat him so violently.

His long, silver hair whipped around his face as he jerked his head back to glare at the man now standing in his doorway.

“What the fuck was that for, Xanxus?!” he snarled.

“I was just cleaning the trash out of the hall,” Xanxus replied.

Fucking bastard! Squalo gritted his teeth. Always calling him “trash” and treating him like dirt, Xanxus had the ability to piss him off to such extremes that his entire body actually vibrated with the need to slice someone. Getting to his feet, he picked up the shirt he had also dropped during his fall and threw it over the bed.

“Why were you prancing around half-naked?”

Xanxus casually sauntered into the room and sat down in the only chair. Crossing his legs, he put his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his cheek on his fist. His piercing eyes cut right through Squalo, forcing a response.

“I was on my way to the shower,” Squalo answered irritably.

Turning his back, he walked over to pick up the transmitter off the floor as well.

“Who were you talking to?” Xanxus asked in a deceptively indifferent voice.

Shit. Squalo straightened slowly but didn’t turn around.

“I was talking to the base in Japan.”

He moved to the dresser and dropped the transmitter onto it. Looking into the mirror hanging over the dresser, he saw the other man stand up. Xanxus came, no stalked, toward him. With angry fascination, Squalo watched him come. Watched sleek muscles shift and bunch under the white, button-up shirt as he approached. Xanxus moved like a predator, with a fluid grace that did nothing to hide the menace and danger in his every step. His face was cruel but beautiful, features harsh and sensual at the same time. The scars that framed his face enhanced that dangerous beauty. Eyes that burned with ambition, hate, rage, and something more basic captured Squalo’s in the mirror with an unblinking stare he could not escape.

Xanxus stopped behind him, close enough for him to feel the heat of the man’s body deep under his own skin. Still holding his gaze, Xanxus reached out and wound a section of Squalo’s long, silver hair around his fist.

“Who were you talking to?” Xanxus emphasized the first word with a vicious tug.

“Ouch! Fuck, I was talking to the katana brat.”

At his admission, the hold on his hair tightened painfully. The cords of Squalo’s neck strained as his head snapped back.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to contact him,” Xanxus said mildly.

Squalo wasn’t fooled. Dark fury danced beneath that mild tone.

“I didn’t—,” there was another hard yank on his hair, “—ow! Dammit, stop fucking pulling my hair! I didn’t call the fucking brat, he called me.”

Whether that appeased Xanxus or not, Squalo didn’t know, because Xanxus abruptly changed the subject.

“You smell like shit.”

“That’s why I was going to take a shower!” Squalo growled.

He refrained from adding, “And it’s your damn fault I smell like this anyway.”

The hand in his hair twisted. Xanxus pulled hard, swinging Squalo around. The grip loosened and Squalo stumbled several paces across the room.

“Then go take one,” Xanxus went back to the chair and sat down, “before you stink up the place.”

Scalp stinging, Squalo stomped to the bathroom. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was so furious he could barely see straight. Angrily flinging off his clothes, he stepped into the tub and slammed the shower door shut so hard the glass rattled violently. He turned on the faucet, placed his hands on the cold, tile wall, and stood under the pounding spray. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head up and let the scalding water stream over his face and body.

It was always like this, he thought. For almost twenty years, this was the relationship they had shared. Conflict and violence bound them together, accompanied by Xanxus’s ferocious drive to become the Tenth Boss of the Vongola and Squalo’s deep-seated desire to help him achieve it. Though rage and aggression colored Xanxus’s every word, every action, and though Squalo offered bore the brunt of the other man’s violent outbursts, it was that very fury that had drawn him to Xanxus in the first place. Fiercely proud, intensely ruthless, and overwhelmingly powerful, Xanxus exemplified everything that Squalo admired and craved. Xanxus’s unflinching pursuit of his goal, his willingness to crush friend and foe alike to realize his ambitions, called to the most elemental and primitive parts of Squalo’s soul.

As always, thinking about Xanxus’s matchless fury and strength created a slow burn inside Squalo’s body. Even boiling mad as he was, he couldn’t stop the swell of lust washing over him. This was also a part of their relationship. Removing his good hand from the wall, he trailed it down his slick body to his groin. There, he touched the flesh that had been hard and throbbing since Xanxus had first grabbed his hair. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he began to stroke up and down the rigid shaft. Imagining the hand touching his dick was another, rougher hand, he shivered and rubbed his thumb over the tip in slow circles. Lowering his head, he hunched over a little and brought his hand up and down the rigid length in increasingly faster movements. His false hand still braced against the wall, he masturbated with a feverish desire to come and come quickly.

Engrossed in his self-pleasure, he didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open. He wasn’t aware of the heated gaze that watched him for several minutes through the fogged glass. Squalo only became aware he was no longer alone when the shower door crashed open with a violent bang.

“So the trash is now a dumb animal that plays with its own dick for pleasure.”

Startled, Squalo jerked his head around. Xanxus was there, watching with a cruel smile on his face. An uncharacteristic flush stained Squalo’s own face. The other man’s white shirt was hanging open, revealing a firm muscular chest covered with scars that did nothing to detract from its masculine beauty. In twenty years, Squalo had licked every one of those scars more times than he could count. The button of Xanxus’s pants was unfastened as well, revealing a line of silky dark hair. The color in Squalor’s face deepened at the sight, and his breath hitched in his throat.

Swallowing hard, he covered up his embarrassment and desire with anger.

“Oi, get the hell out! I’m not done yet.”

Xanxus’s eyes crawled over Squalo’s wet body, lingering on his cock (which he still held in his hand).

Raising his smoldering gaze back up to Squalo’s face, his dark smile widened.

“No,” he replied an instant before he lunged into the shower, clothes and all.

Grabbing Squalo’s shoulders, he slammed the surprised man back against the wall, hard enough that Squalo’s head cracked against the tile. Water sprayed everywhere, soaking Xanxus’s clothing.

“Voooi! What the fuck are you doing?” Squalo yelled.

“I’m giving you what you want. You should thank me, trash,” Xanxus said harshly, and slammed his mouth down onto Squalo’s.

Seizing two handfuls of hair around Squalo’s face, Xanxus held the other man in place for a brutal, punishing kiss. Another person may have recoiled from the rough demand in that kiss, but not Squalo. The years had trained him to want, to crave this kind of passion. He opened his mouth under those devouring lips. Xanxus’s tongue stabbed inside, lashing against Squalo’s in a duel for mastery. Sharp teeth cut his lip, and he welcomed the tiny pain.

Squalo could feel the steely length of Xanxus’s arousal pressing against the other man’s pants. Without thought, he lifted one long leg. Hooking it around Xanxus’s waist, he ground his lower body hard against that erection. He groaned into Xanxus’s mouth at the sensation. Xanxus broke the kiss with a mean laugh.

“You like being treated like this don’t you, like a fucking whore? It excites you.”

Eyes slightly unfocused, Squalo shook his head to clear it. That wasn’t completely true; he only responded because it was Xanxus.

“Just you,” he gasped, his voice hoarse with lust. “No one else can make me feel like this.”

Xanxus yanked cruelly on his hair until he cried out.

“Of course,” Xanxus said dangerously, “if you let anyone else do this to you I would bury both you and him where nobody could ever find you.”

A thrill shot through Squalo. Statements like this were as close to a confession as he would ever get out of Xanxus. Not that he needed or wanted one. Their relationship didn’t call for such lame trivialities.

Applying more pressure on Squalo’s hair, Xanxus began pulling his head down.

“On your knees,” he ordered.

Squalo resisted at first, an instinctive response to the command.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Xanxus coiled the hair around his fists until pain shot through Squalo’s scalp.

Shame and excitement churned in his belly, and he fell to his knees. They slid a bit on the slick floor of the tub before he got his bearings. The water beat down on his head as he glanced up at Xanxus. Satisfaction gleamed in the other man’s eyes.

“Pull my cock out,” he instructed.

That brief spurt of defiance gone, Squalo lowered the zipper of Xanxus’s pants and freed his cock. Long and thick, with a slight curve to it, the turgid length jutted angrily out from a thatch of dark curls.

Leaving one hand tangled in Squalo’s hair, Xanxus moved the other one around to capture the back of Squalo’s head. Exerting force, he pulled Squalo’s mouth close to his dick.

“Suck it.”

Squalo wasted no time in complying with that order. Opening his mouth, he slid the dark, flared head of Xanxus’s shaft between his lips. It was a contradiction of softness and hardness, a velvet smoothness over rigid iron. Xanxus’s flesh tasted of salt and something else, something that was uniquely him. Still holding his head, Xanxus thrust deep into his mouth, so deep he almost gagged. Only years of practice let him relax his throat so he could swallow more of that hard cock.

He began to suck, his cheeks hollowing with each long draw. His tongue slid across the tip, lapping at the slit there before stroking along the length. Not content with Squalo’s own actions, Xanxus rolled his hips, fucking Squalo’s mouth in sharp, quick thrusts. Squalo moaned and bobbed his head eagerly. Wet sucking noises echoed obscenely in the cramped space. He reached down to grab his own cock, but Xanxus’s foot was there, pressing hard on the vulnerable flesh. The slight pain sent a bolt of vicious delight hurtling up Squalo’s spine.

“I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself.”

Squalo moaned again, but went back work, bobbing his head and a fast, steady rhythm now. Apparently deciding that was enough, Xanxus yanked him up and spun him around. Squalo barely had time to brace himself against the wall, and then Xanxus was driving savagely into him. The burning pressure sucked the breath right out of him. Xanxus hadn’t bothered preparing his body, and now it stretched painfully around Xanxus’s thick cock.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouted as he tried to breathe through the pain.

Xanxus didn’t give him time, however, and slammed into Squalo so hard he lifted the other man up on his toes. He reached around and found the hard, wet points of Squalo’s nipples. With rough fingers, he pinched the stiff peaks in time to the thrusts of his hips. Squalo gasped and dropped his forehead against the wall. He was feeling pleasure now. He arched his back to take Xanxus in deeper. The other man laughed again and obliged, ramming in all the way until his balls met the flesh of Squalo’s ass.

“You’re such a pervert, writhing in ecstasy like a fucking slut with a dick shoved up your ass.”

The words, crude and mean as they were, enflamed Squalo. He pushed his ass back to meet Xanxus’s thrusts, each plunge hitting the pleasure button deep inside him. Xanxus’s fingers dug into the flesh of his hips, shifting him to get a better angle, and then he tunneled his cock furiously in and out of Squalo’s body. Their flesh smacked wetly together with each shove. One of the hands tormenting Squalo’s nipples trailed lower, down his abdomen, and hovered just above the weeping, throbbing flesh at his groin without touching. He tried to shift his hips, to push his aching dick into Xanxus’s hand, but the fingers still on his hips tightened viciously, holding him in place.

“Touch me, dammit!” growled in anger, but the hand stayed teasingly in place.

He knew what Xanxus wanted, knew that the other man liked nothing more than to see him throw away his pride and beg. His mind rebelled at the knowledge, but his body didn’t care. It wanted to come desperately, but orgasm hung just out of reach. He needed Xanxus’s touch to bring him over the edge.

“Fuck! Fuck!” he cried out in frustration and gave in, his pride nothing in face of the overwhelming demands of his body.

“Touch me, please!”

Xanxus touched him. Gripping Squalo’s shaft in a tight grasp, he rubbed it up and down with short, quick strokes. The feel of the hand on him, accompanied by Xanxus’s pistoning cock, drove him closer and closer to climax. Xanxus leaned against his back. Squalo could hear the other man’s rough, unsteady breathing now. Could feel the pounding of Xanxus’s heart against his back. It was suddenly too much. Fire exploded inside him. He shouted as pleasure whipped through his body and poured out his cock in thick, milky bursts that splattered against the shower wall. Xanxus pounded wildly into him, surging over and over until he stiffened with a grunt. Squalo felt Xanxus’s dick jerk inside him, and then hot, viscous liquid flooded inside him.

His knees buckled and he had to support himself against the wall. Xanxus pulled out of him. He winced as the retreating cock scraped against his raw tissues. Neither of them moved for several minutes, not until the water spraying down on them turned tepid. Xanxus shifted. Squalo felt a light, fleeting touch and his eyes widened in shock. It had almost felt like a kiss. He started to turn around but Xanxus grabbed him and pushed him rudely out of the tub. They had left the shower door open during their encounter, and his feet slid out from under him on the wet floor. He fell hard on his already abused ass.

Xanxus looked down at him with arrogant disdain and calmly began stripping off his sodden clothes.

“Get out,” he ordered.

He gave Squalo his back, dismissing the other man as he stuck his head under the pulsing water.

Eyes narrowing, Squalo stood and testily snatched his towel off the counter where he had put it. He dried off swiftly. Wrapping the towel around his soaking hair, he stomped toward the bathroom doorway. He was almost there when Xanxus spoke again.

“If my dinner is cold because of you, then you better just throw it, and yourself, into the garbage where trash belongs.”

Squalo stiffened. Hell, he wasn’t the one who interrupted someone else’s shower and then fucked them within an inch of their life. Still, he hurriedly walked into the bedroom and shrugged rapidly into his clothes. Ripping the towel off his head, he ran his fingers hastily through the sopping wet mess to get the tangles out. Dashing out his room, he jogged down the stairs and ran to the kitchen. He had to make sure that fucking cook kept Xanxus’s dinner ready until the shitty boss finally came downstairs.

The end
- 1
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Skin Deep	By : bexara Category: +G to L > Katekyo Hitman Reborn Views: 2241 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or make $$ off of it.

Skin Deep