The setting is still in Namimori; however its resemblance is that to Newark, NJ and Philadelphia, PA. Title is a song by Fall Out Boy.
.
.
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He appreciated the gentle ambiance of a sunny day, loved it when the park was full of people, young and old. Loved to drown himself in the gentle breeze, blissfully aware that he would probably be sleeping on the hard cold bench tonight, maybe under the bridge where all homeless men dwelled and smoked the drugs they could get their hands on.
Of course, Tsuna was aware that slipping into a faux elation was wrong, especially when he wondered if his mother would be disappointed in him.
She probably would, considering he was her only son, and at nineteen, he already felt undeniably old. And that is why he spent his days wandering in Namimori Park, drawing, sketching (and if he was running on money), painting for people who were willing to pay for it. He was gifted, very talented at what he did, a mantra he was used to hearing from people who were enamored by his art. There would be a small crowd, watching in awe as his fingers skated across the paper with ease, fluidly capturing the image he would recreate as requested. The pay was enough to scrape through the day, sometimes enough for a third meal. So dropping out of college wasn't his wisest decision, but he was fine.
He told this to himself as he took a drag of his cigarette, outlining the smile curving the girl's face with his sharpened pencil.
…
Hibari ignored the pointed look from the librarian, daring her to interrupt him while he read. He was mindful that drinks weren't allowed, but tea was good company when researching information for his Criminology course. Unlike his peers, who chose to party and procrastinate, waiting for the due date to loom closer, he would finish his papers a few days after it was assigned. He prized being stress-free and being productive while frenzied sleep-deprived idiots hastily finished the assignment a few hours before its submission.
Disciplining stopped being a responsibility, at least until he obtained his degree, ready to be unleashed once his career launched ahead. Snapping the heavy book, he crushed the paper cup and headed towards the stairs for the exit.
The park was probably the only place he visited on Fridays, considering the fact that no one would disturb him. The walk itself was relatively short, until his eyes landed upon a small crowd, all huddling and whispering.
He knew upon seeing him completely, that the man was homeless. Or struggled financially. He was wearing a faded orange T-shirt and black ripped jeans, black combat boots laced messily. The untamable brown hair made him recognize the male he was looking at instantly, almost intrigued that he bothered to remember the herbivore.
The brunet wasn't looking at him; too busy stuffing pencils and brushes in the torn pockets of his jacket.
"Look, it's really late and that man was my last customer, so if you want me to draw something for you, it'll have to wait until tomorrow," he said flatly, shrugging the poor excuse for a jacket closer to his frame.
"Hn." Tsuna finally spared a glance at him, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. However, it appeared he decided to stay silent because he gave him a wave and pivoted his heel to the opposite direction. Hibari watched until his figure became smaller, eventually disappearing in the moonlight.
…
It was tomorrow. And as the brunet promised, he was there ready to draw him something. That is, until he decided to speak. He was seething, having bitten someone too death just moments before. Whoever thought it was funny to steal his notes to use for their own paper was incredibly brave, or unbelievably stupid. Probably both.
"Whatever you deem fit,'' he bit out politely, watching how the shorter man frowned.
"My name is Tsuna. I'm homeless, not nameless, Mr. Grumpy. Perhaps I should humor you, but I won't because I can see you're pissed off. So yeah, you gotta tell me what you want,'' the man, now introduced as Tsuna, replied with equal terseness.
"Hibari Kyouya."
"Well, Hibari-san, what do you want?" Tsuna repeated, his hand positioned on the paper as if preparing itself for a race. There was a beat of silence before the raven crossed his arms.
"Nothing. I want nothing, herbivore,'' he finally said, after a moment of contemplation. And it was true, he did want nothing. He just wanted to be in law enforcement to discipline and establish order, lead a simple life.
Laughter rang in his ears, and it took him a moment to realize Tsuna was the one laughing, wheezing at his humorless answer. After heaving a shuddering breath, he composed himself, a blank look on his face once more. "Okay. I can do nothing. Definitely."
There was silence, except for the delighted squeals from children, chatter from parents, and the scratching sound of pencil on paper. An hour passed, and Hibari silently read The Taming of the Shrew, hearing the occasional humming from the artist. Until the artist started making conversation with him, or speaking while Hibari listened.
"You know, if you really want nothing, wouldn't that nothing be something?" Hibari suppressed a sigh, he knew he wasn't going to like where this was heading. "Like maybe, you actually do want something, but the only barricade between that something and you is you. I mean, if you're wanting, in the state of desiring, aren't you wanting something?" Tsuna asked airily, smudging whatever he was doing with his thumb. Hibari stayed silent, taking in whatever the man was saying, since he couldn't exactly read while being spoken to, that wouldn't be courteous. "Not much of a talker, huh? Doesn't matter, I can talk alone for an hour, at most. So anyway, by acknowledging the fact that you do want something, it doesn't make you weak. You actually gain control, almost manifesting your own destiny, and I think that's pretty cool."
"Herbivore, I am very much aware of how in control I am,'' the raven cut in coldly, very intrigued but irritated that he was getting unasked advice from a stranger. A homeless stranger.
"Look, I know what you're thinking. 'That homeless guy is an idiot' or whatever, but it's funny, because I'm choosing my state of homelessness. So in a way, I'm choosing my way of life and I'm sort of okay with where I am. Does that make me morbid? I don't think so,'' he continued, still concentrating on the Nothing drawing, and the Skylark was almost tempted to leave this man talking, leave his stupid wise words, but so curious at what he might actually be drawing. How do you draw nothing? Well, the herbivore was drawing something that must be nothing.
"Being homeless isn't a choice. What do you actually consider the lifestyle you're having?"
"Ah." Tsuna smiled, almost tapping his chin with mock confusion. "I would probably say…I'm living the Bohemian life, Hibari-san. Makes me sound like I have purpose, and that I only exist for that sole purpose. Although my mother would beg to differ, or my friends, who are okay with who I am."
Another few minutes passed, this lapse of silence louder, but comfortable. "Herbivore, I will be leaving in approximately ten minutes. I would like to receive my piece and pay for it."
"Yeah, it'll be ready, almost done,'' Tsuna replied, tracing and skidding the charcoal delicately. After a few seconds of annoyed grunting and swearing, he sprayed the paper with something, grinning at the nothing he spent time on. Hibari sighed, prepared to hand over crisp bills, only for the brunet to laugh darkly. "I technically drew nothing, therefore no pay is required, Hibari-san. You've proven to be an interesting customer, which is why I spent my day off on you," the artist said cryptically. Tsuna shoved the paper in his hands, already buttoning the dirty jacket. Hibari nodded, letting his eyes ensnare on Nothing.
The piece…it was more than nothing. A something that was so captivating, the miniscule details almost making it ripple with life, almost breathing. An entity that existed for the purpose of existing. Almost like the man who was waiting for his answer. The white dove was captured right in the moment of flight, its white wings extended and blending with the clouds, which embraced its body like wind. The dove's back only stared and he was almost expecting for it to turn. The arch of his back was inclined with determination, with an unrelenting fire.
"A Bohemian herbivore."
"I'm pleased you understand that now. I hope you found something in your nothing."
"I will not bite you to death," Hibari said, observing how caramel eyes glinted with amusement.
"Sawada Tsunayoshi. And it was my pleasure to enlighten you as a hobo, Hibari-san." With that said, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaving with elation he hadn't felt in ages.
…
The darkness no longer scared him, it soothed his clouded thoughts, keeping his mind off the man he just met. Hibari Kyouya. The corners of his mouth twitched into a crooked grin, while also checking his pocket for the switchblade he had ready. He knew where Enma would be, probably in the abandoned warehouse both claimed as lodging. There were many vacated garages in Namimori, where drug deals or lost men ventured. Tsuna tried to keep himself in the Checker Face zone, very grateful that his jacket managed to survive the winter season.
Sighing into the night air, he counted the stars and lit his cigarette to life. The tip blazed as the nicotine invaded his lungs, taking the languid drag as the building with graffiti made itself known.
And for some reason, the night wasn't as cold as he remembered.
…
It's been two weeks since he's seen the Bohemian herbivore, fourteen days since Nothing became something. Three hundred and thirty six hours since the lazy scrawl of Sawada Tsunayoshi was written on the corner of the drawing he held in his hand.
Needless to say, he's been busy since then, writing and completing certain assigned readings for his other courses. He didn't have time to think about some ridiculously philosophical homeless herbivore, much less wonder if he would ever see him again. Tsuna hasn't been in the park ever since he completed Hibari's drawing and it never failed to amuse him to see the crestfallen faces of children and waiting adults when the occupant of the wooden bench was missing.
Today was Saturday, meaning he would have to clock in for his volunteering shift at the Rain's Soup Kitchen. The soup kitchen itself was never that crowded on Saturdays, which was the reason he chose that particular day, and nobody liked to show up for free food at nine in the morning.
Yamamoto Takeshi ran the place, very cheerful in serving free sushi or other Western dishes to the needy, and Gokudera, known for not being a people person, organized and worked behind-the-scenes to make the program tie in with Namimori University. Hibari was always the first one there, setting up the tables while Hibird tittered around, waiting for other volunteers to start pouring in.
And when he signed in, he realized he wasn't the first name on the list, the tables already set, chairs unfolded, napkins evenly distributed. The messy scribble that was Tsuna's name above his neat block print, the smiley face doodled on the paper like a middle schooler would do.
"Cute. I didn't take you for the charitable type." He slipped his gaze to the man in front of him, the blue apron and obnoxiously white gloves all ready to go.
"I didn't either, herbivore. Although I see no reason as to why you would be here of all places," he replied, with the faintest of smirks on his face.
Tsuna breathed out a laugh, like it was obvious. "What can I say, I care about my community. Although that would be a damn lie, because I don't. Yamamoto is my friend, and Gokudera-kun needs a break once in a while, so why not?"
"You haven't been at the park." He didn't mean to sound accusing, but seeing Tsuna scratch his cheek in shame was definitely worth it.
"Um, I was in jail for like, what—two days? And I had to visit my mom, so that takes a while,'' he said, shooting him that bright smile that could put a flashlight to shame.
"Your mother lives far?"
"Well, her grave does,'' Tsuna stated blandly, shifting his eyes to the wall. "I stay with her for a few days and draw for the people that live there. Make sure others are okay. That kind of thing. But I mostly stay with her, and then…I take off again."
"Hn. A Bohemian criminal, I expect no less from you, Sawada Tsunayoshi." Hibari opened the door to the kitchen, knowing the brunet would be footsteps behind him.
"It wasn't my fault! Seriously, recreational drug use will be legal in a few years, so I don't know why law enforcement is being so uptight about it,'' Tsuna replied with a scoff. "Actually," he began, his already big eyes getting even bigger, which Hibari couldn't believe was possible, "you are totally cop material! Oh my god, yes—Hibari-san you are totally—you're law enforcement's wet dream!" At Hibari's growl, Tsuna didn't even dare backtrack, instead grinning widely and poking him on the chest. "You have that whole serious face going on, and you have your own catchphrase, that freaking ironed tie nobody has worn since the nineties! I'm serious, once you become a cop, you better go easy on me."
Hibari raised an eyebrow, debating whether or not he should bite him to death, but that stupid grin made his lips twitch, almost a reflex. "You are unbelievably idiotic. Perhaps interesting, but definitely idiotic." He said, piling the dishes and starting the stove.
"But you like me."
Those words were harmless, but it made both males freeze, a silence that was thicker than the butter Tsuna was scooping.
"W-What I meant was in the friendly kind of way, not like like, so I'm sorry."
"You sound like a ridiculous child," Hibari snorted, ignoring the blush that made Tsuna's face go scarlet.
"N-No, but I can use whatever words I want, so shut up! And because that was mean, you're in charge of the onions." It was a silent rule; whoever dealt with the onions was the bravest man in the kitchen and guaranteed an additional fifteen minute break.
"Don't be foolish, you signed in first, therefore you are entitled to handle the vegetables." He ignored the other's reproachful look. "Even if they make you cry."
"That's not fair, I got here first so I shouldn't handle onion duty. Screw it, Yamamoto's handling it. He'll get here last, so we got leverage," Tsuna mumbled, dicing the tomatoes.
"Completely duplicitous."
"No, I'm just smart."
…
Yamamoto did end up with onion duty, much to Gokudera's joy. Seeing the cheerful man be reduced to sniffling and grunting made Gokudera smile smugly, puffing his chest with pride when the last slice was poured into the soup. "See? That will make you think twice about how much work I do since I handle the fucking paperwork," he gloated.
Yamamoto smiled as he washed his hands with a pool of soap. "Yeah, but who does most of the work in bed?"
"Nobody needs to know your business Yamamoto!" Tsuna bit out with embarrassment, eyes widening in alarm when Gokudera made his leave known with the slam of the door. "Is he mad?"
"Nah, just flattered."
…
"So how's school going?"
"Fine."
"Do you like children?"
"No."
"Why?''
"They're repulsive."
Tsuna didn't know what to say after that. It's not like he was expecting a complete stranger to open up to him, or have a personal conversation, but he missed having that connection with people. Although he was a libertine, it can sometimes be lonesome. Enma was good company, but the redhead had a group of friends to go to, and he would leave for months, only to come back for a week, and it was either to get high, or to give Tsuna a brief summary of what's been going on.
Yamamoto would be too busy managing his three restaurants while Gokudera would be hot on his heels, or travelling to Italy to visit his older brother, G. His mother was dead, Haru was also handling her flower shop and Kyoko was attending various photo shoots for the new edition of Namimori Cosmetics.
That ugly fogged sensation festered in his chest, and Hibari ignoring his attempts at conversation wasn't making that feeling ebb. "Hibari-san, can I use your phone?" He asked suddenly.
The Skylark sighed impatiently, although Tsuna still believed he looked pretty attractive even if scowling. Pale elegant fingers and, damn those eyebrows. His eyes are pretty too, he thought, and he felt no shame because one must enjoy life's simple pleasures. And beauty was one of them.
He took the device, ignoring the cold glare and dialed the number he knew so well.
After a few rings, the dark velvety voice answered with a low "Chaos."
"Reborn?"
Some shuffling in the background and a whine from Lambo, before Reborn chuckled and chastised the whiny Bovino teasingly. "Dame-Tsuna, is that you?"
"The one and only. I have a question, but it seems you're, ah, busy?" Tsuna replied with a smirk.
"Don't fool around and tell me what you need, the stupid cow can hear." Reborn didn't dare play games, and when he did, it wasn't going to end well.
Tsuna knew he had to ask the next question, and he was embarrassed to actually say the next words in front of Hibari. He would look like any vagabond, negotiating his drug deal. In a soup kitchen. For the homeless. And that's exactly what he was. Although he was feeling a bit crappy, and he felt justified to feel at least some form of release. He cleared his throat, knowing Hibari was listening to every word. "Are you loaded?" The clatter of Hibari's spoon confirmed his suspicion, and made Tsuna look up in surprise, the anger in those stormy eyes almost breathtaking, he wanted to recreate that on paper.
"Yes, but why so soon? Last time you indulged in this was two months ago," Reborn answered, and the artist could feel the concern layering those words.
"That doesn't matter, but I'll pay you back somehow."
"Are you really an artist or is that some sort of cover?"
"I don't sell my body if that's what you mean!" He snapped, insulted that he would suggest that sort of thing. "I need a hit, I'll see you at the usual place. Please don't bring Verde, I don't need to wake up in a forest again,'' Tsuna said, but Reborn already disconnected.
"You engage in recreational drug use?"
"Yeah, guess I'll see you later. Or not." Because you could give less than two booties about me, he added silently, but not bitterly, because why should he feel bitter about a stranger?
And even when he breathed in while suppressing a cough, the feeling of that familiar void was not only in his chest, but everywhere. He outlined the cold gray stare on paper, glad that at least Hibari's eyes were looking at him, although a bit angry.
…
He realized since his first experience that he was much more inspired to draw and paint by tripping on reality. He wasn't dependent on it, he just did it to experience some kind of sensation that wasn't confusion, where everything was Elysian. He knew what was going on, was conscious of every miniscule detail, but without his inhibitions getting in the way, he could respire and drink the stars for all its worth.
He lost count of how many eyes, steel gray, and cerulean blue, he's drawn. Most would find it disturbing that he was obsessed with the eyes of a stranger, but he felt there was more than that nothing the raven had claimed.
Hibari Kyouya.
Such a pretty face.
It was a shame he was so uptight. Definitely law enforcement's wet dream, he sighed.
…
August rolled by uneventfully, and Hibari was glad the term had ended, but with the winter season slipping closer and closer, his visits to the park were lessening. And he noticed that Tsuna, or the homeless herbivore as he referred to him as, no longer appeared in his mundane routine. He stopped altogether after the soup kitchen volunteering, witnessing how Tsuna made 'arrangements' so easily with that carnivore. He was honestly surprised Tsuna even breathed the same air as that man, and to be on speaking terms and to banter so playfully meant they saw each other as equals.
It's not like he thought about him on purpose, but framing the drawing and mounting it on the wall where his eyes landed after a nap was not his most prudent decision. He didn't know why suddenly that overly radiant smile made him twitch uncomfortably, and it took him moments to realize everything about the herbivore bothered him.
To the expressive eyes to that tongue that serenaded philosophical lectures for free, that attitude of I-could-care-less-but-I-do-care. The first few days of his absence went unnoticed by him, but the crowd that waited for his presence dismantled like a toy that has been left behind by a child. He wasn't actually dwelling on his whereabouts, but he presumed the artist had gone to visit his mother and would come by again in a week, two a most. But when three weeks rolled by, he didn't bother glance up to see if that mop of wild hair was in the crowd, ready to greet him.
And the thoughts that nagged his head followed when he remembered why Tsuna had left him there in the soup kitchen, without as much as a proper farewell. "Yeah, guess I'll see you later. Or not."
What was that supposed to mean? He left to consume drugs, but what if some dangerous occurrence transpired, and the herbivore was actually dead somewhere, that bright fiery stare dulled within a corpse?
That's what happens when you're homeless. Or Bohemian, especially a Bohemian herbivore.
…
Tsuna knew that by leaving the Checker Face zone, he would be leaving his turf open to another potential vagabond. And he was right, because a fellow named Xanxus, including his 'Varia Squad,' had claimed his warehouse and that was beyond acceptable.
"What do you think you are, trash?"
Tsuna said nothing, glad he never left his switchblade in Kokuyo City. Mukuro was kind, or Chrome to be very specific, in offering him a place to sleep. If a vacated mall counted.
"This is my building," he replied coolly. Nobody called their turf home.
Xanxus rolled his eyes in exasperation as Bel laughed, mocking him.
"Will you look at that, the little boy says this wonderful building is his! Young people are so stupid these days!" Lussuria cooed.
"It is. Just because I left doesn't mean I gave it up. You can leave now." The fake and sweet politeness could give the healthiest man diabetes, because Xanxus only growled and flipped a weapon of his own.
"Trash like you shouldn't feel so cocky. This shitty building is mine now."
"Well, would you look at that? Took the words right out of my mouth, now I won't repeat myself. Leave my Sky or I won't hesitate to make you fuck off myself," Tsuna warned, glad the only riled up individual was the scarred man.
Without warning, Xanxus lunged himself forward; Tsuna had a second to dodge the knife that would've gutted his stomach. "You play dirty." He tore the fabric that kept the torn leather jacket together, feeling flesh underneath his blade. "But I can too." Tsuna had never killed a man, but if he had to to protect himself, then he wouldn't hesitate.
"Trash like you should die."
…
He didn't die, he was locking the iron door of his warehouse and glad the fight was over, with only a few bruises, one cut on his eyebrow and a small stab wound on his arm. He fiddled with the tiny radio, knowing the date was December seventeenth, and it would be butthole cold for the next few weeks to come. But the cold never bothered him anyway.*
…
Okay, the cold was definitely bothering him. The tattered jacket that was his everlasting companion was failing him, and he could've sworn Namimori was never this freezing. His head was pounding, and constant shivering was a contrast to the heavy Christmas spirit in the city. The festival that would take place on the twenty-third excited him, because people being there meant booths would be open, and booths being open meant selling stuff, and selling stuff meant there would be food, and lots of people with food meant leftovers. So many leftovers. And of course, the games and bright lights were fun. Especially the fireworks.
His mom would take him to the Namimori Christmas Festival, tugging on his chubby hand to hurry up, to make sure mommy didn't lose sight of her precious Tsu-kun. Or the cotton candy that she would hand over, not minding that her son wouldn't finish it all, instead saying that her Tsu-kun was too tiny for the big cloud of fluff.
So he watched others, laughing and squealing, drowned in the happiness of celebrating. No one noticed the homeless man.
I have a fever. I'm sick. It hurts to move, how am I going to get to the Sky? I can't…
He tried to control his labored breathing, but after leaning on a tree for so long, he let sleep take over, too tired to care anymore.
But he still found it ironic that the festival was being hosted in the park where he met Hibari.
…
Although he was never a fan of crowding, he resorted to providing some sort of disciplining among occasions such as these. The Namimori Festival attracted many herbivores, and it dragged for hours until midnight, only for it to be rekindled the next day, and the next until December twenty-four.
He supervised the cleaning staff and booth owners, making sure it was clean and organized for another day of 'fun' tomorrow. He resisted the urge to snarl impatiently at the man who missed a candy wrapper, only to notice the familiar lump that was the artist that had snaked his way into his thoughts.
"Herbivore, this place is not a hotel to house sleeping idiots." His voice was cold and laced with authority, still confused as to why the brunet man would be out this late sleeping on a tree in the remnants of a festival. The jacket looked worse than he last remembered, almost like a rag that might as well be used as a handkerchief. And it wasn't just the state of his clothes, but it appeared he lost a severe amount of weight, his frame thin enough he looked a sickly pale. The fact that he had not stirred meant the idiot had passed out or was downright ignoring him. He crouched to level himself with the artist, placing a hand on the blazing forehead.
It was almost ridiculous, being concerned for a man he barely knew. Well, not concerned, he was preventing the defacement of Namimori, especially with a corpse among its annual festival. This was the exact reason why he hoisted the body in his arms, getting no response and inwardly noting the extremely unhealthy weight. There was a nasty gash on the childish face, his breathing was raspy.
How is the Bohemian life treating you, hm?
…
The walk was not long. The ride was, and Hibird skittering about nervously was not making it easy. His apartment was immaculate and simplistic, and for once he was glad about renting on his own rather than living in a dorm.
He placed Tsuna down on the couch, not even having to pull the rags off him because they fell apart just fine. Readying the bath because the fever was the ultimate concern, he knew he was giving the artist his first bath in months. The use of extra soap was a must and he scrubbed the filth and dirt that accumulated from sleeping on the ground and sitting on the grass for almost a year. There were bruises adorning the pale skin, the products of a recent fight, and the outline of his ribs made it apparent that he was malnourished.
After letting him soak and scrubbing him clean, he dressed him in clean clothing, observing the gradual decrease in temperature. Hibari knew he was passing boundaries, but in actuality, he knew Tsuna would be dead by now. He hasn't spent this much time on another person other than his own, and he found that thought quite disturbing.
With medication taken, the inhaling of oxygen was evenly paced, and he let him rest there, almost pristine, as if he never stumbled upon streets, with no roof to claim as his own. It was like he was going to wake up the next day, to face college classes, but he was taking a nap before continuing his note-taking session. Tsuna was there, almost like a teenager. Vulnerable but so jaded.
He saw that his eyelashes were curved naturally, almost brushing his face, his lips—
He let his eyes roam elsewhere, to see a tiny scar on his wrist, his skin was actually peachy and smooth, like velvet—
He left the door open, just in case.
…
There was no concrete dust on his face to brush off.
And it was so freaking bright.
Those were his first thoughts, until the rustle of something he hadn't heard in a while alarmed him that he had to run his fingers over the smooth fabric to confirm that it was a indeed, a blanket.
He felt so clean. Fresh. Like he went through a rebirth, almost going back in time when he was a fourteen year old, getting up for school. His mother would call him down for breakfast, his friends ready to walk to school while Nana dropped off I-Pin, Lambo, and Futa as well. But he was on a couch, in an unfamiliar setting; it was a spiral that jumbled to a full stop in his mind.
Hibari was there; staring impassively, as if waiting for him to shriek, jump into hysterics, cry like a banshee because he was being held in an unknown location.
"What happened?" It came out like a croak, and his sudden attempt to sit up resulted in a spinning room, so that was a no-no.
"You decided to be inconsiderate and foolish by sleeping on a tree with a 104 degree fever. Poor hygiene, malnourishment, recent signs of violence,'' Hibari answered in a clipped tone.
"Y-Y-You bathed me?"
"Of course. If you had tarnished my couch, I would have bitten you to death,'' Hibari deadpanned, stirring his cup of tea. He ignored Tsuna's blush, knowing the brunet could feel the fresh boxers.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all of this trouble, but thank you. Really,'' he mumbled, feeling such exhilaration in the sensation of how the pillow morphed to his back, a nice luxury compared to the concrete of the Sky. But this was not something to get used to. "Hibari-san, I thank you for doing what you did, but I can't stay for forever. I need to go back, my turf is open. I-I'm not fighting for it again, I barely left unscathed—"
"Are those markings a result of your latest violent encounter?" He asked plainly, referring to the gash on his eyebrow and bruise on his cheek with the elegant point of a finger.
"Well obviously, some fucking swine decided to claim my warehouse after I left for a month and I just wasn't going to put up with that. It was a gift from Reborn and Kawahira, and like hell I'm going to leave those nasty men to Enma. Although he would have beaten them up just fine with the help of Adelheid,'' he murmured, still in awe that he was wearing clothes, real clothes that were not falling apart at the seams. He could tell they were expensive too and what was more appealing—was the smell. The smell of jasmine and Shea butter. This is Hibari-san's smell. Damn.
"Well, you can hardly stand and possess no physical strength as of right now, herbivore. It would be more…beneficial—if you stayed. Small animals like you do not thrive on their own," Hibari said slowly, watching in amusement as Tsuna tried to pathetically stand but flop back down.
"I can't intrude, and I can most definitely make it on my own, I have been since a few months ago," Tsuna fired back, almost weakly. Hibari did not even bother giving him an answer as he wordlessly placed a glass of water and a bottle of pills within reach.
"Take your medication,'' was all he said before closing the bathroom door.
…
It took him five days to recover. The Skylark was there to lend him clothes and give him not three—but four meals a day. The outline of his ribs faded; replaced by soft smooth skin and he found himself sinking in the couch with the weight he was gaining.
"Hibari-san, don't you have classes?" Tsuna asked, comfortably sitting on the chair as Hibari poured a glass of orange juice.
"No." He didn't know how to respond to that. He's been crashing at the raven's place for a week now and the short responses he got from Hibari took time to get used to. And it's not because the taller male was annoyed, but because he was actually short-spoken. A man of few words.
"I want a job."
"A job," Hibari repeated blankly.
"Yeah, I need to pay you back and I need to make something for myself, be a little less…Bohemian." Tsuna tried to keep himself from fidgeting, and found himself slowly getting used to greeting and welcoming the Skylark for the past seven days, feeding Hibird, and eating disgustingly delicious food. Doing exactly what he wasn't supposed to do, and he found it disheartening that he would have to leave soon. It's not like he could stay any longer, considering even Hibari letting him sleep here was pushing the man, who happened to be very private, to his limits.
"I will aid you seek employment. However, that does not mean you have to leave."
And if he squinted hard enough, he could almost hear the words 'You can stay'.
"Okay."
…
"This crafts shop?" Tsuna furrowed his brow, still finding the orange shirt itchy as Hibari guided him towards a brown brick building.
"Yes, I know the woman that handles this business, perhaps she will hire you knowing she's very…eccentric," Hibari replied, biting down the smirk as Tsuna squirmed.
Both males entered the shop, as known by the tinkle of the bell, followed by a delighted squeal.
"Hahi! Welcome to Haru's Handmade Crafts and Supplies, how can I—Tsuna-san! Tsuna-san, what?" Haru tilted her chin downwards, her hands flying to her face with enthusiasm. "It's you!" She smiled brightly, those dimples flashing as she shamelessly eyed him up and down, ignoring Hibari's presence altogether.
And there was no denying it. The orange T-shirt exposed a lean body, and now bathed and clean, his face lost that permanent haggardness, replaced by a serene expression accompanied by bright caramel eyes, almost explosively entrancing.
Tsuna was new.
Tsuna was shiny
He was damn gorgeous.
Which was why she did not refrain herself from pecking his lips with a deep kiss, almost making him tumble down as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"H-Haru! That was—"
"Amazing," she finished. "But you're not homeless anymore," she said, as if this was a pressing matter, which if Tsuna thought about, it was a pretty big deal. "And you look great, I haven't seen you like this since we were in middle school—"
"Public displays of affection are unprofessional," Hibari cut in tightly, anger being icily pierced in his black glare. "And you allowed it,'' he growled, and Tsuna flinched and waving his eyes in a placating gesture.
"It won't happen again, Hibari-san, I promise!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were both dating! And Hibari-san, I want to let you know now that if you were talking about Tsuna-san as the potential employee, then he has the job,'' she said airily, her stride as confident as always when she wrote Tsuna's name in the 'Employee Check-In List.'
"We're not dating Haru. And thank you, I really appreciate it."
"Well, you can start—"
"I never said I approved," Hibari scoffed. He left the shop without a word more, closing the door behind him belligerently.
"I'll contact you Haru, but I have to go now," the artist sighed, following the raven with equal vigor.
…
When he came back from work, he was always there before the Skylark. Hibari once again resumed his classes, being gone for hours, and coming home later to a cooked meal and clean house. Tsuna had his own room now, and the fact that Hibari was across the hall was really comforting. He didn't know why, but it was.
And it was embarrassing to know that he knew Hibari's showering schedule, because when he walked in to a shirtless, wet body, he felt the heat rush to his face. And he stared, taking in the chiseled chest, and marveling, not fathoming how he could stand existing while looking at that, did he realize his heart was stuttering.
No.
It was wrong to stare at the man who picked him off the streets like a piece of candy, to ogle him every chance he got, especially when the opportunity presented itself so easily.
"Hibari-san, I think I can make it on my own now." He dropped the bomb lightly, but he wasn't expecting the book the other was reading to snap loudly.
"You're leaving?" Hibari clarified coldly, that stoic mask there, always there.
"I never said that."
"Then you are being unclear,'' he replied, those stormy eyes narrowing dangerously.
"I think about it sometimes…"
"May I ask why you desire to leave, herbivore?" Hibari asked simply, and for once Tsuna noticed the heavy bags under those eyes he loved sinking into. He's been thinking about this all along.
The taller male was now in front of him, almost bored, but Tsuna could tell—he was intrigued.
"Because…" He was close enough to see the bread crumbs Hibird had left on the raven's shoulder, close enough to see those specks of gray in blue, those damn eyebrows. Everything, and when he heaved out a shuddered exhale, he could smell the Shea butter and jasmine. He swallowed, please whatever is out there, enlighten me like a damn panda. "…I really…" Screw it, it doesn't even matter.
"Nothing, I want nothing herbivore."
I can give you something, he inwardly thought, taking advantage of the close proximity, of the silence.
He pulled on that nineties tie (it wasn't nineties actually, but a silky black tie that Tsuna loved to see Hibari loosen when he changed into casual clothing) and crashed his lips messily like Haru had done to him a month ago, glad that his lips brushed on something so freaking soft, and he felt like a teenager again, his chest hurting from the lack of oxygen, but so warm because Hibari tasted as wonderful as he smelled. And when he pulled him further down, he took the chance to openly inhale a sharp breath, to take in that scent, not even concerned with his actions being creepy.
"Because you're attractive. Because every time I look at you, I want to peek at what's under that shirt. That kind of thing, so I think a clean separation will do the trick," Tsuna stated flatly, keeping the warmth out of his face, and deliberately keeping out the "10/10 would most definitely bang" out of his confession. "Considering I just sniffed you like a creep, you could possibly understand that what I harbor isn't exactly friend material," he continued, still self-conscious but deciding that he's done worse.
Hibari never lost that blank stare, and it was a bit unnerving that he had not uttered a word. "I appreciate honesty, herbivore. Perhaps I underestimated your stupidity, taking into account that the feelings stated just now are mutual. Although I would be less vulgar about it," he smirked, slipping his tie off.
And Tsuna squeaked as Hibari leaned in, almost mockingly cornering him to the wall. "I thought you wanted nothing," he breathed, trying to keep his eyes anywhere that wasn't the taller male.
"I take back that statement, although I presumed you had forgotten those words."
…
And perhaps nothing turned into something.
Wow, look at me over here with cheesy thingies. Wow. This wrote itself honestly, and I hope you enjoyed it, but it's probably terrible. I'll fix mistakes later, and if you find any, tell me please.
*Hope you get the Frozen reference.
Happy Valentine's day.