Oh dear lord. Its finally up. I think I've been writing this spontaneously, for about 8 months or so? Not bad, since I forgot it was there. -self insert- type if you like.

You knew him since you were little, before you could even walk. He knew you as [a/n], but called you omnivore; that was okay; you lived right across the street from him all your life.

Now, you were in high school, and your parents deem you responsible enough to have the apartment next to him all for yourself. Nobody to bother you in your daily routines, nobody to boss you around, nobody to tell you what to do.

You just got lonelier. Every single day was the same. The only highlight was that boy across the street.

You stare out your window longingly, watching. Waiting. There HAD to be someone out there to notice your boredom.

You see him, the man of your dreams, approaching. Here comes your neighbor, the raven haired prefect who drives a motorcycle. Your throat siezes up, and a crimson blush creeps across your face. Air escapes your lungs in small gasps, and your heart feels like its hammering through your ribcage... Or so you think.

Hibari sees you staring straight at him, completely zoned out. His eyes narrow, but you don't flinch, trapped in your dream world. The prefect shows a slight degree of kindness (or is it respect? It could be annoyance... But lets call it... Affection) towards you, since you were the only person confidently living near him within a 10 kilometer radius.

"Hey, omnivore. Why are you staring at me?" Hibari approaches you, snapping you out of your daze.

"Ah! Nothing... Hibari-san," you squeak, throat dry.

"Hmph." The raven haired prefect turned, heading to his house, an identical building to yours. "Omnivore."

Omnivore... The 'special' nickname he reserved for you. Instead of herbivore, what he called most everyone else, he called you omnivore, which meant you evolved somewhat. It may have meant a good thing... You weren't exactly sure. Hibari, the bloodthirsty prefect, may not be the guy you wanted a nickname like omnivore from, but you accepted it. At least, he wasn't going to bite you to death.

Actually... Him biting you to death wouldnt be THAT bad...

-?

You've come to accept things as they were. You went to Namimori High, where Kyoya Hibari was the residing head prefect. This discipline committee chairman, the raven haired, motorbike-driving teen, lived right next door, in a traditional-style japanese house. Every evening, around 7 or so, depending on what happened during the day, he would return home to sleep.

The local biker gang noticed what was going on, and began to tail him home. (of course he noticed, but he brushed them off as simple herbivores.) One particularly not-so-stealthy member was discovered by Hibari (because he was... openly following him, taunting him with outrageous streams of expletives), and was bitten one inch from death, hanging onto life by a mere thread. The biker gang was pissed, and torched his house later that night.

Unfortunately for them, they disappeared from the face of the earth, never to be seen again. Hibari finished them quickly, then watched helpessly as his house began to burn. In a rage, he bit the firefighters to death, since they did little save his home. Your house was still standing, unscathed, a haven in the whorl of complete chaos. Neighbors peeked out from behind blinds, and some even dared to form a small crowd. The fuuki inchou dispersed them immediately.

Hibari had rushed into the flames, tonfas in hand, trying to beat the flames out, but to no avail. Battered and bruised firefighters were forced to wrest him from the burning building, and faced the consequences. Nothing could be done to save the prefect's home.

When the house had finally burnt down, Hibari appeared at your doorstep, wordlessly entering when the door was opened for him. He still bore remains of his loss against fire on his charred clothing.

He stayed in your house, sleeping in a guest bedroom. Rarely did he bother you, drifting in and out as he pleased. Only when desperately hungry did he eat with you.

So, on these rare occasions, you cooked up a storm. The way to a man's heart was through his stomach, after all. Maybe he would SPEAK more than three words at a time to you, for once.

Spoons clattered on porcelain plates; silverware conveyed the bounty of food up to the mouth. Hibari sat in front of you, eating, watching your every move.

Conscious of yourself, your bites grow smaller and smaller, until a mouthful consists of a single grain of rice, flavored with a miniscule crystal of salt. He chuckles when you cut a grain in half, then proceed to eat it. You continue to mince the rice, flavoring it with powdered salt. Hibari watches you nibble at your food amusedly, until he finally decides to stop you. He leans across the table, and shoves a loaded forkful of salisbury steak into your mouth.

You nearly choke, but chew and swallow the food, blinking back those stinging reflex tears. You gasp for air, sucking in through a sore throat.

"Why did you do that?" you scream at the prefect. When he doesn't respond, you wonder whether or not you should have yelled at him. Probably not.

"Stupid omnivore... You don't eat rice like that." Hibari stood, and excused himself. He deposited his plate in the kitchen, then drifted back to his room. What a strange guy.

After seven days, Hibari's house had been rebuilt, the construction process sped up exponetially by the citizens who feared the onyx-tressed prefect (that means all of them.) He returned to his home for a single day, and the next afternoon, he officially moved into your home, carrying two suitcases worth of clothes. After he finished moving permanently into your guest room, he personally lit his house on fire once more. Maybe it was because he was lonely, or because he enjoyed your company. He no longer had a 'home' to return to. There was no turning back now.

You watched him light that flame. Maybe it was because it was cold, that he stayed by the inferno until it burned down to ashes. Not a single firefighter showed up on the scene. They probably knew it was a vain attempt. Figures.

He entered your shared house once again. The feeling was mutual. He stayed in your house for his own reasons. You let him live there because you loved him, or something like that. Why? You couldn't give a reason even if you wanted to.

-time passes-

It had been weeks since that incident. You learned quite a few things about the stoic prefect, things that could be embarrasing, if you thought about those habits that way. He had perfected the art of making perfect green tea, using the best leaves to steep the semi-opaque liquid to a deep shade of jasmine. Hibari, much to your surprise, achieved those locks of hair through intense care, using feminine hair-care products to lock in moisture. Garnier fructis?

As much as you learned about Hibari, you begin to wonder whether or not the Nami guardian was observing you as closely as you did to him. Maybe he picked up on the fact you had a tendency to sing in the shower, or only began drinking green tea because Hibari made it so well. Worse yet, he might have discovered your secret diary, filled with various, albeit dirty, fantasies. Hibari had a wry sense of humor, you of all people knew the fact well. Only he would find that shoving a mouthful of meat down your gullet amusing.

Much to your horror, you came home to the fuuki inchou casually reading a black hardcover book. Occasionally, he would chuckle dryly, penning a few words into the book's margins. The upturned corners of his mouth hinted at some possibility of... No. Could it be? Of course not... But could it?

After an hour or so, Hibari approached you, that same book in held out for you to take. Tentatively, you take it. As soon as the book touches your hands, you know exactly what it was. Your book. The very one you stowed away under your pillow, where nobody could find it. The vault of your filthiest fantasies, and it had been casually perused by the most feared man in Japan.

You instantly rushed to your room, locked yourself in, and read just what he had been noting in the margins.

Your first story, when Hibari first moved in... You didn't exactly feel these feelings for him; after all, you were only 10. All you hoped was that he would be your friend, and you wondered why that strange 12 year old boy didn't bother with such things. That had been 9 years ago. Oh, how little had changed over the years.

As time progressed and you matured, the journal entries had taken a more... Erotic air. They transformed from slight musings of the personality he may have been hiding ('You would never know that. Nobody except me would know that information.'-Hibari) to pornographic fantasies that could induce an instant nosebleed within minutes of reading ('... What is this, exactly? I'm not the man who is in this story. I'm not that weak.'-Hibari, comment on a bondage story). On every entry, he had submitted a sly comment, and on a rare few, the skylark had marked it slightly with a dot by the date. After the last story, a fantasy about Hibari coming home to you and deciding that he wanted a little something something (inspired by the fact he now lived with you), he decided to write an entry of his own.

April 24, 20-, 12:38 pm
Wao. I just thought I might find a decent read with this book... And yes, I know what this book was even before I opened it. To think my kind host would be sheltering such herbivorous thoughts... Tch. Those BDSM stories would never happen, and you should know that as a fact. If that is truly how you feel about me being here, I have decided to do something about them. Omnivore. Those kind of thoughts are for the weak.

You gulped as you read the last line. So... He still decided to call you an omnivore, but he mentioned something about acting on your stories. You just hoped he wouldn't kill you... Or worse.

As fate would have it, he didn't kill you, or anything of that sort. Some could argue that he was secretly lonely, so that's why he moved in with you. You were the only one who didn't tremble in fear as he approached.

Days blurred past, dawn merging with dusk, and soon, it was his 21st birthday. Of course, the first thing he did that day was go and buy a bottle of beer. As soon as he was home, he cracked it open, and downed it in one go. Who would have guessed that the fuuki inchou was a total lightweight? Nobody did, until he passed out cold on the living room couch. Since it was a school day, you were home, studiously working out calculus problems in your room.

After a couple hours or so, Hibari regained consciousness, his head pounding with the pain of a massive migrane, aka a hangover. He wobbled from room to room, searching for something. Bleary eyed, he found you in bed, pen in hand, writing a serious entry into your journal, and an open calculus textbook lying beside you. A wry smile appeared on his weary face.

"I need you to get rid of my headache," he managed, wincing at the movement. He pretended as if he didn't feel the sharp lance of pain drive through his skull. His head felt like it was pulsing, and the slightest twitch sent his brain into an iron maiden.

"What am I supposed to do?" you reply, stealthily attempting to shut your black book and stow it away under your pillow. Hibari caught the movement, moving as quickly as his headache would allow to get the book, and flip to an entry.

"Here," he says, pointing. 'Dear journal/diary thing. Did you know that sex can cure minor migranes? I totally didn't... But that's an interesting fact in itself. Hibari can't hold alcohol at all... So this could be a legitimate excuse to...' "You see that, right?" Hibari's blood-tinged eyes lock onto yours. "Is that true? The sex curing headaches?"

Slowly, you nod, hesitant as to where this conversation was going. You didn't expect anything like this to happen in the least. Unprepared, you begin to fear just what could possibly happen next.

Hibari unzips his pants, pulling out a flaccid member. "If you wouldn't mind... Please." Tenderly, he sits next to you on your bed, bottomless. His slate gray eyes catch yours again, and there is a sense of sincerity, and an insipid hint that this event was planned. Hearbeats fill your ears, and all other noise is drowned out until the decision has been made. You slowly reach over, and begin to fondle the soft muscle. The initial touch causes him to suck in air sharply through his teeth. Closing his eyes, the raven-haired man responds to your touch with those accented gasps.

'Erm...' you think. 'This is kind of awkward...' You're sitting next to a hungover Hibari, jacking him off to get rid of his headache. What a strange predicament to be in, especially with the fact that this turned you on immensely. Already, you could feel yourself beginning to leak.

As you continue your chore, Hibari reaches over to your face, caressing it. Slowly, ever so gradually, he brings you closer to him, until your lips meet in a tender kiss. You can still taste the alcohol on his breath, a bittersweet taste mixed with the scent of sakura blossoms that pervade your nostrils. Your hand stops its movement, until Hibari breaks the kiss. You shy away, eyes owlishly blinking at the surroundings. What had you just been doing?

"Please... Don't stop." he murmurs, guiding your hand back with his own. His semi-erect member had barely begun to leak from the tip, a sticky substance that was supposed to provide a natural lubricant. The job was becoming tougher, and your arm had begun to cramp up. 'Saliva... That's it.' you think, and let spit act as the necessary lubricant. Your hand moves faster, thumb sometimes pausing to fondle the swollen mushroom head. Hibari reclines onto the bed, back arching slightly as you continue.

Suddenly, you feel an urge to taste his essence, an animalistic desire that refuses to be supressed. Moving quickly, you position yourself to suckle the swollen head, hand pumping the length that your mouth cannot reach. His flavor was not unlike pineapple, sweet, and tart, with an air of salty bitterness. The fuuki inchou couldn't take the drastic change for long, and came in your mouth with a sharp cry. Thick spurts of white fluid came out, flavored like that pinapple-likeness you had tasted earlier. Surprised, you had no choice but to swallow the cream, unless you wanted to choke with a dick in your mouth. The rapidly-softening penis slides out of your mouth with a soft 'pop!'

"Wao...," he gasps. "I can't believe it actually worked. Oh!" he said, seeing you on the floor, smacking your mouth in an attempt to get rid of that cloying taste. "Sorry I didn't warn you..." He extends a hand to help you stand up, and you take it. Rising, you notice that he hadn't made a move to retrieve the boxers that lay forgotten on the floor.

"'sokay. As long as you're better now," you reply, heading back into bed.

"Actually... I think I still could use a little more medicine," smirked Hibari, pulling a tonfa out of thin air. "Would you mind...?" He gestures toward the diary, whose corner is poking out from under your pillow.

'What now...' you wonder. He pulled something out of your diary out last time, and even now he flipped through the hardcover as if it were a textbook.

"Mmm... Here." he says, pointing to an entry. "I says that I'm supposed to do this." He shuts the book and turns on you hungrily. "Itedakimasu."

Hibari tears off your shirt, wrestling with your bra. Those damn clasps, getting in the way of what he wanted. Nothing could get in the way of Hibari Kyoya. He made sure that the bra came off, tearing at the lace with his teeth. Shreds flew, and the Namimori discipline committee chairman stood back to revel at his prize.

As soon as he steps away, you cover yourself with your arms. What did he think he was doing? For you to do what you did in the name of his well-being was one matter. This situation was completely different. "What do you think you're doing?" you explode, diving under the protection of your covers.

"Wuh...?" Hibari's face was a canvas of mixed emotions, confusion melded with a deluge of disappointment and regret, and a hint of anger.

"I said, what are you doing? Get OUT!" you scream. His eyes widen, and he stares, bewildered, at his hands. "GET OUT!"

He turns and departs, leaving you at the brink of tears. All the fantasies you lingered on day after day... Isn't this what you wanted? You can hear the guest shower turning on, and wonder whether or not he wants to wash away the guilt he possibly felt.

Dinner was pretty much uneventful. You ordered ramen, for you and the carnivorous man who called most everyone a herbivore. He appeared in a t-shirt and black shorts, plopping down in the seat in front of you. The thought of making conversation crossed your mind, but it didn't seem as if either or you wished to talk at all.

You couldn't really blame him, though. You -did- write it in your journal, basically penning your thoughts into concrete. He just happened to read it (nevermind snooping around for it) and your never-fail cure came to light. It just seemed more... Awkward around the house, ever since that incident.

Life passed like this for several weeks. Of course, you noticed on many occasions that your book had mysteriously disappeared from underneath your pillow before nightfall, reappearing in the morning, as if it had never vanished.

One day, things came to a head, when you came home from school early, because you were feeling under the weather. You headed straight for bed, checking underneath your pillow for your book. Of course, it was gone.

Curious, you began to search for the elusive skylark, knowing he was the only one who could have possibly taken it. You tread softly through the house, feeling the carpet dampen your footfalls. Hibari stayed in the guest room upstairs, so that was where you went, pausing just outside the door. You couldn't hear anything, but decided to wait for awhile. Opening the door suddenly could be disastrous; the fuuki inchou was known for his light sleeping habits, and did not take lightly to those who disturbed his slumber. The soft, even, deep breathing only confirmed your suspicion that he was asleep, so you snuck back to your room for a well deserved nap.

On the contrary, he was very much awake; the breaths you mistook were in reality heavy, labored gasps. How were you to know that he pleasured himself in your absence?

The fuuki inchou sat alone in his room (of course his door's unlocked), crooning your name to himself as he held your diary in one hand and his stiff member in the other.

He was reading the journal like an ordinary book, going from one story to another. One story in particular he favored above the others; a long one that took months to complete, about an arduous adventure with Hibari as your partner. The raven haired prefect reread the first intimate scene over and over again, letting himself imagine your inner warmth.

"... [a/n]!" Hibari cried throatily, as a particularly strong contraction shot up his spine like a jolt of electricity. It felt as though a vice was squeezing him, and he released messily on his chest.

You, however, were halfway down the stairs when you heard your name shouted lustily from behind Hibari's closed doors. 'Oh dear lord...' you think exasperatedly. 'So that's why the pages always smell like sex...'

You chuckled to yourself, continuing your descent downstairs. Its a wonder that you hadn't discovered this sooner. For a quite a while now you had some suspicions, but only the truth could be revealed.

"What to make for dinner...," you muse out loud, rummaging through the pantry for some possible ideas. "Ramen... No... Takeout? Chinese takeout." You sigh, grimacing at the fact you were ordering fast food again.

"Fried rice? Pan fried noodles? Sweet and sour chicken? Sauteéd tofu with mushrooms in oyster sauce?" you mutter to yourself. Ever so slightly, over your ramblings as to what to get for dinner, you hear a door close upstairs. The soft tmp, tmp, tmp of someone descending the stairs meets your ears, and you see the Vongola cloud go into your room. Not long after, he exits, and sees you staring at him, completely curious as to what excuse he could possibly give as to why he was doing what he did.

Hibari simply acted as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred, arching an eyebrow in a silent question as to why you were staring at him.

You shoo the matter away dismissively with your hand. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Mmmm... Beef."

"What kind, then? I'm ordering chinese takeout."

"Really? Never mind. I want General Tso chicken."

"But I thought you didn't like spicy food..."

"I don't."

"Then why are you-"

"Sshhhh." Suddenly, he is pressing a finger against your lips. "Babbling is for Herbivores."

What a strange man.

-later on-

Summer. Hot, and sweltering. The only thing keeping you from melting into a sticky puddle was the constantly revolving ceiling fan, air conditioning, and the ice cream. Yes, the ice cream. And popsicles. And ramune. But especially the ice cream.

The fan overhead could only revolve slowly, barely stirring the sultry, sticky air. Your little paper fan wasn't helping much either. It was that hot.

You never knew beef-flavored ice cream existed until Hibari whipped it out of the freezer. As he opened the container, you recoiled at the sight of it. The concoction looked like liver was blended with milk, and then frozen. "What... What is that?"

"Beef ice cream." he says. Snatching up a spoon, he scrapes some from the top and presses the cold metal to your lips, making you taste. The flavor wasn't exactly revolting, but it wasn't that pleasurable either.

After scooping a spoonful into his own mouth, he turns and dumps the remainder of ice cream into the trash. You stare, completely bewildered at why he would do such a thing.

He glances back at you, face completely expressionless. "I don't like it. Beef flavored ice cream is for herbivores."

Merry christmas, to all you perverts. #Epicmealtime.

Hey. Tatsuki here again. Still can't write lemons to save my Fucking LIFE. (Lovely)

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