Title: Price Well Paid
Request: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, D18, sunburn (istrill)
Warning: Please see abbreviation of the title
Word Count: 487
The sun, Dino reflects, is not unbecoming on Kyouya. For all that he is a child of winter and snowstorm, summer loves him just as much and her caress touches his skin warm, the gloss of seawater lustrous.
This episode unforeseen, the blanket is not nearly enough to accommodate his knees and arms. Sand makes an abrasive cushion at best, but this is just one of many things he has to endure in this particular courtship – and willingly he does. Kyouya is not a considerate lover; eyes closed, away from the sun’s glare, he is an unspoiled picture of apathy if not for his hips’ languid rubs and a tightly curled fist around the fabric that makes his paltry bed. Dino digs one knee deeper into the sand and smiles.
“See? I told you the beach wasn’t a bad idea.”
Kyouya answers in a frown that settles quietly on his temple, a dismissible audience. Dino concedes a performance by moving a finger down the length of Kyouya’s body, then licking the beaded trail it leaves behind. Heat is a savage bite on his bare skin but he is ignorant to all but salty taste on his tongue and the tightening of abdominal muscles – an effort to disallow any response, he presumes. Curious and instinctively playful, he kisses his lover’s hardness and revels in the sharp sound that must tear a burn in the Cloud Guardian’s throat.
The hand is insistent on his chin, tugs his face upward. Kyouya’s eyes, unsheltered by their lids, prove to be worthy of winter’s hell; the same tongues of black fire were once ignited by disgrace and vengeance, in the wake of his first defeat. Dino can safely say that he prefers this current situation, in which desire plays the greater part.
“Finish what you started.”
He smiles, his delight curbed lest it tempts the undesirable. “That is my intention, love,” he assures and returns to his former position, chest against chest, mouth against mouth, hips against hips. Dino contents himself with the same slow treatment, skin sliding on skin and light kisses on a curved ear until Kyouya’s guard on his vocal responses slackens and two fingers submit a demanding press on the base of his spine.
“Stop wasting time.”
“You’ll thank me later,” he murmurs softly, distracted by demands made by his own body. His lover’s responding snort is cut short by one hard downward thrust. Kyouya arches his back, mouth opened for a gasp, and Dino grins then, proud and triumphant. These sounds make a strange music to his ears, pleasing even as abandon rules what remains of his pace. Kyouya has his eyes shut throughout and the force of his climax is such that his limbs wound tight around Dino’s body, fingernails brutalising skin and flesh within reach.
The pinprick discomfort on his back will bloom into burning sore later, but Dino considers it a price well paid.