Summary: Hibari doesn't know when it starts, but when it does, he knows, they both know, it must stop.

Pairing: D18

Rating: T

Warnings: Shonen-ai, light innuendos but nothing too bad.

A/N: Hi. On holiday right now, but that's what a iPad is for, I guess. As for why I am not updating my other fic, I left my story outline in my laptop. Gomenasai *bows*

This will be a series of 18 one shots or drabbles of 18 different pairings featuring Hibari, centering around the theme 'bittersweet'. If you can't already tell from the theme, all of them will contain angst to varying degrees. Also look out for crack-ish pairings in the future as I rack my brains for more pairings to hit the 18 mark.

Late D18 day fic...but only by one day? Anyway, enjoy! :D

Bittersweet: Don't Stop

Hibari doesn't know when it starts, but when it does, he knows, they both know, that it must stop.

Soft lips brush against chapped ones, gently, briefly. Fingers are intertwined, smooth silk against the rough fabric of his suit jacket. He can feel the edge of the wooden desk pressing against his lower back, a pesky nuisance that he would rather get rid of if not for the...distractions a certain herbivore is providing.

Dino breaks the kiss and tilts his head, pressing their foreheads together, wavy gold mingling with coarse ebony. An amused smile graces his lips as he gazes into admonishing grey eyes.

"Keep on doing this,herbivore, and I absolve all responsibility for future consequences."

Dino's smile only gets wider, and he chuckles lightly. "If I was at all worried in the least, I would never have started this in the first place." He's lying, they both know he's lying, but he leans in for another kiss anyway, and Hibari closes his eyes, parts his lips slightly.

The doors are locked, windows shut, curtains drawn.

He is furious, utterly, absolutely infuriated. A tea cup has been shattered, shards of porcelain decorating beige tatami mats. A coffee table has been smashed into pieces, dark wood splintered and cracked. Formerly neat piles of paperwork lie carelessly strewn all over the floor, but he cannot bring himself to care about those hundreds of pieces of paper, only this certain one that he is clutching, crushing in his hand right now.

"Three years," he snarls, his fists tightening. "Three. Goddamn. Bloody. Years. And you think you can just fucking end it all with a piece of freaking cream stationery?"

"Kyoya-"

"Or am I supposed to think that the custom gold embossed font makes up for it? The lavender scented envelope?"

"Kyoya, I'm-"

"You know what? Screw it all. Screw you. You can take this invitation and shove it up your fucking herbivorous ass because like hell I give a damn." A sleek silver cell phone is thrown down on the remains of what used to be a perfectly wonderful coffee table, before his arm swings and metal meets metal with a resounding crack and the cell phone joins the long list of victimised inanimate objects already bitten to death.

His arm falls to his side, tonfa stilgrasped tightly like a lifeline. In his other hand he holds the paper, crushed and torn, but the word are still visible.

He drops it to the ground and stomps on it with his foot, but said custom gold embossed font is still very very legible, the words he would rather forget printed on it as clear as day.

You are cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of

Don Dino Cavallone

and

Signora Pantera Tomaso

On May the Fifth, 20XX, at the Cavallone Mansion in Sicily.

He swears the characters are mocking him, and the normally logical Cloud seriously considers setting the whole building on fire just to get rid of the letter once and for all.

Not that that would change anything much. Just more paperwork for Kusakabe to cry over.

A shrill sound pierces the air, and he promises to himself that he would ask Kusakabe to unplug all the phones and destroy the landline immediately.

"What, herbivore? Decided my birthday was too inconvenient a date for you?"

"...I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, Kyoya."

The grip on his tonfas tighten even further, and he closes his eyes. "And?" he asks, his tone conveying annoyance, his emotions anything but.

What do you want me to do?

"I'm not a herbivore. Were you expecting me to start crying or something?"

Dino has the guts to laugh weakly. "Says the one who went on a murderous rampage all of one minute ago." His voice trails, laugh petering off abruptly.

"I'm sorry."

"And? What do you want me to do?" What do you want me to say?

"...nothing. Do nothing." There is nothing to be said.

The cream paper is fluttering away slowly, blown across the room by the wind. Hibari grits his teeth. "You're a coward. A bloody fool." Why is it like this?

"I know."I don't. I don't know anything.

He feels as if he is drowning in the silence. His lifeline clatters to the ground.

The wedding is grand, as befits the Cavallone Family. Hibari calculates that if he were to get out his box weapon now, Sawada Tsunayoshi would be paying about two hundred million euros in damages, not inclusive of medical fees and dry cleaning bills.

He settles for leisurely bending gold-plated dessert spoons in a corner of the ballroom.

He can see everything clearly from where he is sitting, shadowed by a thick, nondescript velvet curtain. He sees the bride, vaguely familiar, with dark curls elaborately styled, embroidered ivory silk pooling around her feet. He sees Dino himself, dressed in a fine black suit, smiling and greeting guests, looking the part of a happy groom. The purple orchid pinned on his lapel matches the ones in the girl's bouquet.

He calmly twists a spoon beyond recognition and drops it into the growing pile.

Their eyes meet only once throughout the five hour ceremony. Dino turns around unexpectedly, and Hibari has no time to look away. Their eyes lock momentarily, a few brief seconds of clashing grey and brown. Dino smiles sadly, ruefully, and Hibari quickly averts his gaze.

He leaves the mansion immediately after.

Dino wonders, vaguely, what would happen if they are caught. He knows for a fact that Pantera had acquired a skeleton key the week after she moved in. If she were to ever feel the need to walk into his study at any second of the day, she could easily do so.

It is not like before; they cannot lose themselves in the moment like they used to. Their ears are keenly looking out for footsteps, and both are careful not to make a sound.

Dino wonders, vaguely, whether what they are doing now is worth the repercussions that are sure to come eventually. He wonders if they should stop.

But then he looks into those cerulean-grey eyes; feels the long, callused fingers intertwined with his; hears the soft sound of breath hitching; tastes those lips, sweet and bitter and it is so, so, worth it, everything is, and he won't stop, can't stop, not for the world.

He hears the sound of footsteps approaching, and they both freeze for a second, before it passes and a door down the corridor closes with a click.

Grey eyes have regained their admonishing look, but Dino just shrugs and smiles sheepishly.

The doors are locked, windows shut, curtains drawn, and there is a bittersweet scent lingering in the air, but they won't stop, will continue living, until the inevitable conclusion is reached.

Fin.

Next: 1827. "It is a smile, a laugh, a sob, a yell, a voice."