kyouya:
vigilant, lurking, and hugging the shadows with his selective soft streak, ever the sedulous enigma, was hibari kyouya. he made his rounds like a detective on the beat, empire and its order beneath his thumb, aloof as he crept but forever loyal to his roots. that being said, there were some who might note his skewed, furtive domesticity, and liken him to a petulant house cat before they would a bloodthirsty demon. but those tenacious few took stock in their lives, and no one who could not steel themselves before death should dream of speaking to it in the first place.
still, as kyouya sat on the chaise, legs crossed under breathable yukata with a novel wedged in his hand, he could not have appeared any milder. the night dragged on, stretching well past the strike of midnight before he heard the brief scuffle with the lock. unperturbed, he only thumbed through another page of murakami―a french rendition of a title he knew well―following a paragraph with fluid ease as footsteps ambled, amplified into the room.
sans venom on the tip of his tongue: you’re late. but dino beat him to the remark, promptly tugging his half-open mouth into a frown as kyouya finally looked up.
it had never been the time that he minded. both men understood and acknowledged the other, body and soul so to speak, in depths unfathomable to the rest. unwavering faith in his partner’s capability left no room for needless pacing or micromanagement; hibari would have retired to bed any time he wished, and any wait imposed onto him hibari spent in relative tranquility.
what vexed him now was the other’s state. when he slouched onto the chaise, all wear and tear, kyouya felt it shift under dino’s weight added right onto the world’s. the fatigue in his bones was so apparent that it could have fooled anyone for tangible, as if kyouya could reach out in return and rip the strife right out of dino―were it that simple, kyouya would have done anything to achieve it. instead he must make do with what he knew. luckily enough that was plenty. far gone were the days he could not pick apart the gordian knot that was, and still could be, dino cavallone.
the hardback volume snapped shut in his hand and settled onto the coffee table. hibari, though, shifted closer; in a breath he drew up one leg, slipping it over dino as kyouya took the outstretched hand, drew its palm flush to his cheek, and settled into the other’s lap. gaze unwavering, he swayed forward, nudging their foreheads as he kept his hand over dino’s―if anything, nestling his cheek even further into its caress. now wasn’t the time for words. dino knew kyouya would have them on standby, dino knew all he had to do was ask. until he was amply comfortable for elaborate conversation, kyouya was here. kyouya was present. and cloud or not, he was all the proper anchor dino could ask for.
“you look troubled,” he tilted his head and murmured a kiss into dino’s palm, pale stretch of neck to collar easing out into plain view, luminous milk and honey beneath the low light, “let me relieve some of your stress.”
thunk; the sound of the book snapping shut, finding its place on the table, could not have been more welcome. and dino felt a breath leave him in the seconds after, pure relief. selfish though it was --- perhaps; the word’s definition had shifted quite a bit in recent days, of course --- he required nothing short of the whole of this man’s attention from this point forward. and he felt no shame in knowing so. in fact, he’d have stated it, if asked. and if kyouya had not volunteered his time, he might have seen fit to demand it, something kyouya, no doubt, would have allowed. the thought alone settled him, steadied him. and as kyouya shifted before his eyes, he felt a need to feel alive rise in the pit of his stomach, far sharper, more clear, than he realized even in the moments before.
the night had not been good to him, though he and his men had fared far better than some. he didn’t want to think of it, not now, a task made easier with every second that passed. kyouya, first and foremost, was warm. and as he drew himself up, onto dino and ever closer, the overwhelming heat of him quickly became impossible to ignore. kyouya swayed, forward; and as they touched, dino exhaled. there was, faint, a gentle laugh in his breath, strangely unsteady. and in the seconds that followed, without even realizing, a hand had already found its way onto kyouya, twisting into the beautiful fabric that he wore.
soft; the word stuck out to him and his fingers wound tighter, drawing kyouya nearer. in another time, he would have chastised himself for this, such thoughts. it was hardly fair, after all, for men like them to have mastery over such subtleties as well. they were, in their rawest forms, killers, both. it was something that neither of them would dare to deny. but, there was freedom in understanding. and in his years, dino now knew that no thing, no person, was simple, black or white. it was this that had led him, in moments such as these, to cherish what they had. and they had much. they were alive, for one. and they had each other. and with all that they had been through, they, too, had a depth of unity that others only dreamed of encountering.
that was why, however inappropriate it might have seemed, he didn’t need to talk. not now. what he needed now, in the minutes that followed turning, leaving a man cold on the ground, was to feel alive and utterly, completely unalone. and to tell someone that they were loved? always, there was no better time than now.
the feel of kyouya’s cheek, his skin, was a welcome draw back to reality. and at last, dino seemed to relax, fully, allowing his fingers to curl, his nails to brush against his lover’s skin. he blinked as his eyes searched the other man, looking him over, to smile, before his expression softened and his eyes gently shut. he nearly grinned, then, suddenly aware of the weight on him and the wonderful --- oh, so wonderful --- closeness that came along with it.
troubled? he allowed the words to sink in, matching them with a breath before he nodded, affirmative, and allowed his eyes to open once again. his mouth parted to answer. but, his words were taken from him; voluntarily given, in truth, entirely unnecessary. the soft kiss his once-bloodied hand received was more than enough to stir him, to send a bristling through his skin, set a fire in his touch. and what kyouya said next only heightened the sensation. the words set in him a restlessness that only doubled as his gaze shifted, catching the sight of skin --- just as beautifully warm, of course --- before he forced his eyes back.
“ you’re too good to me. ” he teased, his voice quiet and conspicuously low. his eyes held to kyouya’s all the while. and he felt himself grin as they grew heavy and the creeping neediness in his stomach began to bloom.
“ would that i could be so good to you... ”
his words were, in part, a tease. subtle. careful. and rather unlike him, he felt. and he felt his grin widen, pleased. then at once, he shifted, bridging the last bit of space between them. and in a rush of movement and heat, his lips found kyouya’s for a long, deep kiss, one far more telling, needing, and stronger than even he yet knew.
