Title: The Use of a Handwarmer
Rating: PG-13 for mature-ish themes
Author's Notes and Miscellany: I seem to have been writing a large quantity of fluffy fics recently. This one is so fluffy it almost has no point! Honestly, Hitman Reborn! seems to be the only series that I can write almost non-stop about. I'm seriously thinking of asking people to give me prompts to write fics in my other fandoms. Cause dude. Srsly. WTF.
In the seven years that Sawada Tsunayoshi had been deemed the Tenth Head of the Vongola Family, he had long gotten used to traveling back and forth from Japan to Italy. Both places had become his home (he had taken to Italy almost immediately for some reason; Reborn had said it was the old blood in him), and even the foreboding-looking Vongola castle had, in its own time, become a safe-haven for the boy. Though, at first, the entire place had been dark, somber, too rich and extravagant for Tsuna who had grown up as a relatively normal Japanese, suburban-dwelling teenager, Tsuna had grown accustomed to it. Often, he would swear it was like a tomb, but it was nothing a few lights turned on wouldn't fix.
And besides, trying to alter the place would have distressed the castle's natural inhabitants, something Tsuna wanted to avoid at all costs. And so Tsuna had fallen into the step of the schedule set by those natural inhabitants, the alternative being "Or you fucking die, brat, capicce?"
And even though breakfast was served normally at seven-o-clock, twenty-one-year-old Sawada Tsunayoshi found himself awake and craving a cup of coffee shortly after six in the morning. It wasn't his fault, exactly; Reborn had introduced him to the beverage (brewed Italian style, little milk, lots of sugar, piping hot) to keep the youth awake while trying to complete jobs, schedules, paperwork and reports, and Tsuna had quickly grown fond of the drink.
So, shivering upon waking (for despite the bed hangings around him, and the fire still smoldering in the grate across from the bed, December in Northern Italy was still cold, and the Varia were surprisingly stingy about the electric bill, and thus refused to turn on the central heating until January), Tsuna threw the covers away from himself and crept from his bed.
Early morning light lancing through the heavy drapes guided Tsuna down the ornate marble staircase, and an ambient, pearly-grey dawn showed Tsuna into the darker kitchen. The coffee pot was cold and mournful, sitting as-of-yet unused on the counter; Tsuna, shivering violently (he swore he could see his breath hanging in the air), went about collecting the water and grounds, and stood unhappily hopping from foot to foot as the pot brewed, and poured himself a mug as soon as was prudent.
He hadn't realized someone aside for him was up as well, until he dipped a finger into the mug to test the temperature, and, upon licking excess coffee off of his digit, nearly gagged, and a scornful voice rumbled from the darkness.
"Fucking idiot." Tsuna jumped, nearly dropping his double-strength cup of coffee, and whirled around, only to nearly have heart-failure upon seeing the one person he dreaded seeing so early in the morning, standing cloaked in half-shadows like some sort of remnant phantom.
"I already put in the grounds. What the hell are you doing, dressed like that in the middle of winter?" It was true, Tsuna had come from bed, only in his boxers and a hoodie, but Xaxnus seemed to be roughly similarly attired; his feet were bare, and though his leather pants must have indeed been warm, the only thing he wore (or half-wore really, for it draped about his shoulders like a boxer's robe) was a heavy leather trench coat. Tsuna might have said something to that effect, but Xanxus moved forward, dismissing whatever the boy had had to say.
"Whatever." He growled, sniffing aggressively and clearing his throat as he moved to the pot; Tsuna, being too groggy to move quickly away from Xanxus as safety allowed, was trapped into the corner as the man retrieved a coffee mug, and then was forced to reach around Tsuna to fix himself coffee. "Already fucking cold, good job, trash." He growled as he was forced to put already lukewarm coffee into the microwave. "Whatever." Tsuna was just thinking that 'whatever' might have been Xanxus's new term to control his rage, and was unwisely considering to say something to that effect, when Xanxus, without preamble, moved into the smaller boy, thrusting his hands under Tsuna's hoodie.
Tsuna did his best not to shriek girlishly and spill coffee over both of them as the ice cold hands rested on his naked, unprotected chest beneath; Xanxus saved Tsuna the trouble of trying not to thrash by pinning the boy into the corner of the counter, and pretending he didn't notice (or care) that he was causing Tsuna discomfort by sighing deeply and closing his eyes in pleasure.
"Xanxus." Ground out Tsuna, his teeth starting to clatter. "Can I ask you why you have your hands under my shirt?" He held his shaking hand away from them so as not to spill coffee on either of them.
"Because that piece of trash shark isn't here. So you'll have to do." Xanxus replied, deigning himself by answering, but making up for it by sounding royally disdainful; he moved his hands from the boy's chest to his waistband upon finding he'd made that space cold. Tsuna couldn't see how Squalo would have taken any better to having Xanxus's freezing cold hands shoved under his shirt, but declined to comment as much, as he was shivering too hard to really make any sense, anyway.
Tsuna had the feeling that Xanxus was, perhaps, getting too comfortable when the microwave timer beeped, and Xanxus didn't move to retrieve his mug of coffee. He instead stepped closer into Tsuna, so their bodies were sandwiched together, and moved his hands to Tsuna's back, giving another deep, predatory sigh.
"Xanxus." Tsuna said finally, becoming uneasy. "Xanxus, your coffee is done." They were broken up, or at least interrupted, by Gokudera happening upon them while trying to find the bathroom, and vocalizing his intense suspicion.
"What the hell are you doing to the Tenth, you fucking pedo!' It wasn't in Japanese, but Italian, a language Tsuna had only passing knowledge of, and nothing of slang. But it startled Tsuna badly enough to crane past Xanxus's arm to look at his irate, similarly half-clad right-hand-man. Xanxus finally turned, his face icy, to respond.
"What, trash?" Tsuna knew enough of Italian to know what that meant, and didn't need to know any Italian at all to know that Xanxus, not a morning person and coffee deprived, was not about to be kind to Gokudera.
"Ah!" Tsuna cried, leaping so that he could pin Xanxus's arms, hands still under his sweatshirt, and looked over to Gokudera frantically, trying to dissipate a potential bloodbath. "Nothing, Gokudera-kun! Nothing at all!" He danced away from the older man, looking rather odd while hopping about in a full circle, finally freeing himself of Xanxus, and bolted, with his now-cold coffee, back up the decadent staircase and back to his own room.
After that, Tsuna wasn't sure what might have conspired between Gokudera and Xanxus; Xanxus might have used the younger man as another hand-warmer, or a knock down, drag out fight might have ensued, though judging from the relative silence downstairs it hadn't. So Tsuna was able to enjoy another hour of anxious silence before his door opened and Reborn entered, impeccably dressed as always, and hopped onto Tsuna's bed. And, since he had done it for seven years now, Tsuna promptly launched into his list of grievances done to him by Xanxus just that morning. Reborn, unmoved by his charge's wailing, merely swirled his espresso and watched Tsuna contemplatively.
"And then Gokudera found us. And Xanxus still had his hands up my shirt." Tsuna was saying miserably, shivering from the memory.
"Mm. I know all about it. Gokudera came and told me earlier, and that he feared for your continued virginity." He had said it so casually that Tsuna could only stare at him, dumbfounded, for several seconds. If he was younger, he might have wailed at Gokudera's unfounded assumptions, and bemoaned his state of life, but Tsuna would have liked to think that, at twenty-one, he was a good deal more mature. So, instead, he merely sighed, looking into his cup.
"So nice to know that my only use to Xanxus is a hand-warmer." Reborn smiled as he responded.
"Isn't it nice to know you have some use to him now, as opposed to being trash that should be ignored?" He kept the second part of his statement to himself, knowing his charge would definitely disagree; it was wonderful to see the Family bonding.