Fic requested by Quest of Dreams. She does the most gorgeous art, go see it.

There may not
Be another way to your heart
So I guess I'd better find a new way in
I shiver when I hear your name
Think about you but it's not the same
I won't be satisfied I'm under your skin

Maroon 5, Shiver

Tsuna doesn't know how Mukuro gets out. To be honest, he's not sure about anything right then, still buzzed from the alcohol from the celebration, staring up at Mukuro with widewidewide eyes, up through his messy mop of hair, up to Mukuro's vaguely curved lips.

"Well," Mukuro murmurs and Tsuna takes a step back, blaming it on the ache he gets from looking up at his too-tall Guardians, but knowing it's more shock and confusion than anything else. "You've had fun," he purrs now, sounding delightfully amused, reaching out to stroke a finger over Tsuna's flushed cheek.

"Mukuro-san," Tsuna manages in return, pleased that he doesn't sound too breathy or too scared; he straightens his shoulders and lifts his chin to a stubborn angle, and distantly thinks that Hibari would be at least mildly pleased with his backbone. "You've...?"

Still smiling, just a curve of his lips and that distantly amused tone, Mukuro took a step forward again so they were close. "Decimo," he purrs, hands sliding forward to brace on the wall behind Tsuna's back, caging the Vongola's Tenth in rather neat manner. "Decimo, Tenth, whatever else they may call you." He laughs now, lips grazing his cheek and pressing against his throat, sliding soft and warm down to his collarbone and biting it lightly. "Put in place by the Gods themselves, some thought."

"Mukuro-san," Tsuna says through the haze of alcohol and the rush in his ears and the way that Mukuro's making his stomach and lungs do all sorts of weird things. "You aren't--"

He laughs again, and swallows down any protests that Tsuna has, hands sliding from the wall to the edges of Tsuna's shirt, nimble fingers flicking each button open without a single fumble. Somewhere in the middle of the kiss, the Tenth makes a noise that's almost like protest, and he ignores it, chilly hands sliding against the warmth of Tsuna's skin, like he could drink it in just from that. "Were you?" Mukuro asks quietly, hands crawling like insects up Tsuna's torso, as if he tried hard enough he could sink into Tsuna's skin in a way that had nothing to do with illusions. "Did the Gods come up to you one day and offer you the path to Heaven, while the rest of us are left for Hell, or to fight?"

Tsuna just stares a moment, the haze (partially from arousal, confusion, and the single glass of wine he'd had at the Vongola party) broken at the question. "Mukuro, that's not," he starts, and then finds he can't finish, not sure what to say to any of that, not sure if he should be insulted or flattered, or say sorry. "True," Tsuna finishes, and the pop of his pants being undone.

"They didn't?" Mukuro inquires, and laughs again, soft and sibilant into his ear, and then he pushes Tsuna's pants down the rest of the way, teeth grazing against the sharp jut of one hip, tongue sliding against tanned skin. He says nothing else for a while, far too pleased when he finds Tsuna's hard, not fully, but enough for him to work with, tongue and teeth teasing ever-so-lightly. Distantly Mukuro wonders if any of Tsuna's other guardians had heard these noises, had tasted him before, and nearly laughs when his question is answered by Tsuna jerking a little hard at his ponytail and gasping out a S-stop, I'm close-! after just a few moments.

He obeys, withdrawing with a final lick to the flushed tip, then wets two of his own fingers and slides them between Tsuna's thighs. Mukuro fully expects Tsuna to let him in, and stares for a moment when Tsuna grabs his wrist tightly, brown eyes sharper now, even with flushed cheeks. "No," Tsuna says, clearly, shaking his head, oddly serious as he looked around, as if taking note of his surroundings for the first time. This isn't real. "It's not real. Mukuro-san, I won't-"

"Ah," Mukuro nods as if he understands, surprised that Tsuna can tell the difference between real and fake right then, hands sliding to the inside of Tsuna's thighs, spreading his legs and goes back to his lazy blowjob instead.

Licking his lips to wet them, Tsuna shudders out a moan, hands tightening momentarily in Mukuro's hair, then loosening, sliding to the nape of his neck, then his shoulders, and they rest there, light, while the man sucks almost teasingly light, flicking his tongue against the underside. Tsuna nearly yelps with shock at the invasion, jerking and straining to look behind him to find out what it is, another noise escaping as Mukuro lets him move, swallowing him down while a barely-there illusion presses a finger into him, stretching and touching. "Th-that's cheating," Tsuna rasps accusingly, and his voice cracks on the last word as Mukuro just smirks up at him, lips wrapped around his cock, unable to hold back the soft laugh as Tsuna comes mere moments later, hips bucking, straining against Mukuro's hands and the illusions, not sure what was real and what wasn't anymore.

"Now," Mukuro purrs, licking his cock clean with slow, languid flicks of his tongue. "You were at the party, because...?"

Disoriented, Tsuna slides down the wall, and isn't surprised when Mukuro follows him, still licking lazily and waiting. "Because we won," he murmurs, fingers carding through Mukuro's hair, and then he straightens a little as he realizes. "You --"

And he's jerked violently back to reality.

"--Tenth!" Gokudera shakes Tsuna hard, and the brunet gives a startled yelp, dragged back from where he is touching Mukuro's prison. "What the fuck did he do to you--!" The older man glares at the prison and the floating figure of Mukuro, voice acidic. "The hell we're letting him out now after he did that to the Tenth, we don't need him! We--"

Drawing in a slow breath, Tsuna shakes his head again, realizing what had happened. If they broke Mukuro out, they would win the battle (or so Mukuro seemed to believe, wether or not it was true or not remained to be seen). "We need him," Tsuna says, forcing his voice to be strong as he pushes Gokudera's hands off him gently, drags a hand through his hair and slips off his ring. After a moment of examining the contraption, he frowns at the small, round indent in the middle and curiously presses his ring to it, not missing Reborn's slight nod of approval as it catches, then releases. There is a soft hiss, the sounds of gears grinding, achingly slow as the tank slowly drains, inch by inch until it's just Mukuro hanging there, wrapped in wires and chains, hair dripping wet.

"...D'you want me to blow it up, to get it open, Tenth?" Gokudera says a bit too hopefully, arms still crossed, while Tsuna shakes his head and pops a small, blue capsule, sliding into Hyper Dying Will, with ease, and with one punch, he shatters the glass, not noticing Ryohei's soft "That was intense!"

Carefully, he breaks what wires he can, disconnecting some and ripping others apart, careful and methodical, lastly removing the mask over the man's face, and then lets the fire dissipate, carefully stepping out and into the room once more, Mukuro's face pressed into the curve of his neck. "Let's go," Tsuna says quietly, waving away any offers to carry the man, wanting to do this on his own. Halfway home, Mukuro wakes up, just the barest hint of a twitch, otherwise seeming to be dead-weight. "I expect us to win," Tsuna murmurs, stopping momentarily, refusing to be embarrassed about Mukuro's little "vision" from earlier.

The illusionist's lips curve up with vague amusement and they continue back to the base together.

-

Edited 12-2-08.

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