A/n: This was actually done for the KHR Kink Meme in LJ. I've managed to fill out… 3, I guess, but I'm thinking of doing more. In any case, the prompt of this one is: "TYL!Tsuna x Tsuna x Giotto, surprise rough sex, blind folds. Tsuna seeks guidance for the upcoming Millefiore battles from his precursors. 'The unexpected is inevitable.'"

Disclaimer: Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn was created and is owned by Akira Amano and all its copyrighted sponsors.

Warnings: PWP, yaoi, weird portrayal of the characters, possible OOC, shitty writing style

A/n: Giotto's speech is emboldened while TYL!Tsuna's is italicized.


The Throne of the Sky

By Assiah

Tsuna didn't know how or when it had become like this.

He had been lying on the bed, eyes distant and staring into the ceiling. The lights had been shut off, and he had the entire room to himself, cascaded into darkness. He had been breathing slowly, his hand raised in front him, the Vongola Sky Ring resting snugly on his middle finger.

But now here he was, slouching precariously on a throne so cold to his touch, his head thrown backwards, leaning on its arm, while a mouth so warm was pressed against his own.

The brunette had originally spluttered when the First had caged him with both hands on either side of his head, preventing any attempt of escape before he kissed him harshly, and the young Japanese impulsively kissed back.

As they parted, with his gaze dazed, he stared up at his ancestor, a pretty pink flush on his cheeks. Giotto, however, was neither amused nor smiling, the gold of his eyes as cold and biting as the most violent winter storm. "The proceedings as of now has been unfortunate," he murmured in a soft, alluring voice. Eyes narrowed in an almost glare, he looked down at his successor, in a way which made it seem he was more or less annoyed at something trivial than angry at a tragedy. "It... is unexpected. Coming from you."

The Tenth Vongola whimpered, and almost shrieked when the other leaned down once more. The Italian placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. "But I suppose," the blonde continued, trailing soft kisses along Tsuna's jawline, "... such things hardly matter as of now."

HARDLY MATTERS? PEOPLE ARE DEAD OR DYING-- Tsuna wanted to yell out, but he did not, and instead, he gasped, groaning, when Don Primo kissed him again, more gently this time, with more passion. Breathing heavily, he wrapped his arms around his predecessor, his hands grabbing him tight and pulling him closer.

Giotto mewled approvingly, withdrawing a bit from Tsuna's embrace. "You are a Vongola," he hissed, yanking off his tie and quickly discarding his coat suit. His mantle had been long forgotten at the foot of the throne. "Never forget the proof of your blood."

The heat was burning him, tearing at his nerves, making him writhe and squirm. Giotto bit him, sucking on his neck, and Tsuna yelped.

"The proof of our resolution."

Tsuna trembled, whether from fear or arousal, he did not know, but when he looked at the Founder of his Famiglia, he saw power, he saw greatness. He saw what he needed to triumph, and he reached for it with a shaking hand, and the other allowed it.

Giotto was beautiful; Tsuna won't deny it. His Dying Will Flame was gorgeous and intimidating--captivating but unattainable. Like its bearer. Cautiously, yet almost reverently, he caressed the other's cheek, pushing back the blonde bangs that hid the view of his stunning eyes.

The Decimo shuddered, a fine sheet of sweat covering his body. He ached with desire. The tongues of fire licked at him, hungrily yet sweetly. They teased him, and they held him as if they held his soul, warming and pleasuring it. It must have been painfully obvious to the other, he would suspect, as Don Primo was practically straddling his hips.

"You desire me," the man stated, and Tsuna gulped for breath, longing for the heat of the other's flame, the other's touch, but Giotto slapped away the wandering hands, his eyes narrowing. "You desire power."

Almost cruelly, the other leaned closer, still intent on ignoring his descendant's needy cries and desperate hands, but he graciously freed Tsuna's erection, stroking it teasingly with his gloved hand, murmuring his appreciation of it. "...Then, Tsunayoshi," the other breathed against his lips, and Tsuna trembled uncontrollably. "...Vongola Decimo, claim what you want."The sound of his title from the Italian's lips made the younger boy shudder violently, overwhelmed with his lust, his need.

"Take it." Take me.

Those words were left unspoken as Tsuna choked out a gasp, soundlessly moaning his pleasure as hot, scorching fire enveloped his very being.

Giotto whimpered, barely audible, against the other's neck, his body tense and shaking. He had impaled himself completely unto the youth's obvious desire, and Primo did not even attempt to ease his breathing. He started to move, quickly, harshly--riding the younger man, only seeking the Decimo's pleasure.

And Tsuna mewled, moaning loudly. With trembling hands, he placed them on Giotto's waist, pulling him closer, pushing in deeper. His eyes were glazed, his cheeks flushed, but he saw the highest, purest, most vast sky vividly.

It was beautiful.

He saw the pain barely expressed on Giotto's face, the way his bangs tousled, the way sweat trickled down from his temple, and how his lips trembled with his whimpers and barely restrained cries.

The other was hurting, hurting but in pleasure, and Tsuna, Tsuna moaned helplessly, burning with pleasure, delighted with its pure, powerful fire. "...You, who carry my blood, the Blood of the Vongolas," the blonde grunted, forcing himself down, feeling pleasure and pain tingle his very being, feeding the fire so it would grow larger, burn stronger, and it smoldered, encompassing them both in the arms of its greatness and strength.

"...You..." Giotto threw his head back in a soft moan, never ceasing in his ministrations, and Tsuna's grip tightened, his hips moving upwards with his Sky's rhythm. The brunette choked on his breath, and the pleasure corroded his mind, overwhelming his senses.

How could someone so cold... he thinks, gazing up at Giotto, whose expression crumbled piece by piece, losing himself in the pain and pleasure, ... be so warm?

The fire consumed him so utterly, as though soot and ash coiled in his lungs, but the flame was beautiful and pure. It held him gently, and burned so lovingly. He greedily took as much of its affection as he could, and Don Primo let his successor take as much of him as he wanted.

Giotto caught his gaze, his own firm, but the light of his eyes tender. He smiled, and Tsuna's breath caught. The other smiled beatifically. His ancestor was trembling, but still he did not stop; the roughness did not escape either of them. He mouthed his words, promises, truths and duty, just as the darkness took over the Decimo's sight.

Tsuna shrieked loudly, but it ended with a strangled moaned. Giotto did not seem to mind it, and Tsuna felt the presence of another.

"You need not anything else," this new voice whispered softly against his hair, the familiar stranger's slender hand masking his eyes, "...but the proof of the Vongola's Will."

Tsuna gasped for breath, feeling Giotto move again and again, never ceasing. He heard the cries tumbling so softly from that mouth and heard the whispers at his ear. Giotto's hands were once more on either side of his head, his arms trembling and leaning close. The Japanese youth felt the other person move, closer to his ancestor, and he tensed. The new voice was murmuring against Giotto's skin, kissing it softly, easing him, even though the words were directed at Tsuna. "You are to carry out our legacy, our reign..."

Tsuna saw a bright light, obscured greatly by the other's fingers, but he knew that voice. He knew that voice very well. He trembled, his hips pushing up, his back arching. The fire burned.

"It is your duty. Your obligation."

Tsuna chanced a turn of his head, and stared.

Giotto moaned, almost helplessly, but obviously a tad vulnerably, leaning against the other person, even as he moved, bringing himself up and down the youngest one's erection.

Tsuna saw his own face, only his features were harder and his gaze sharper. He looked on even as Giotto turned to his older self, breathing shallowly, and pressed his lips against the corner of his mouth, murmuring softly to Tsuna yet not Tsuna,

"It is your destiny."

The Tenth boss choked, his back arching as far as it could, tense as a bowstring, and Giotto, though leaning against the other, with the older Tsuna's eyes gazing at his own younger, more innocent face, played him masterfully, riding the younger man harshly, even as the youngest Vongola screamed, his eyes wide and burning, spilling himself completely into the furnace, tainting his ancestor with his desires.

The youngest mafioso panted, breathing heavily. He felt the hand withdraw completely, and saw his older self move, smiling at him sweetly, kissing the tousle of his own brown hair.

Giotto had collapsed on top of him, his eyes bright, his breathing soft. His hair framed his face beautifully, and he trembled slightly in Tsuna's embrace, the younger man still deep inside him.

The older Decimo stood, walking briskly towards their predecessor, and knelt before the throne, before the Sky, and the younger tensed when the First was then pulled away from the circle of his arms and unto that of the other's.

They were not separated from where they were joined, no, but Tsuna stared, fascinated as he watched himself pull Don Primo close, and kiss him slowly and reverently, as though he was a mortal lavishing his god with affection in devoted worship.

Tsunayoshi of Ten Years Later leaned closer, pushing Giotto down and unto the younger Tenth Vongola. Instinctively, the latter wrapped his arms around Giotto's waist once more, and did not protest from his older self pressing their mouths together.

"You are a Vongola," he stated calmly, softly. The blonde settled himself between the two brunettes, subconsciously nuzzling the younger boy's neck. "...You will do what must be done."

"...This was inevitable, young Decimo," Giotto murmured against his skin, a bit resignedly and tired, kissing his neck softly.

Tsuna's grip did not slacken, even if his heartbeat did quicken, and he looked away from his own piercing amber gaze. Giotto sighed against his neck when he did, and Tsuna, unwittingly, chanced his gaze upon the Vongola Insignia engraved on the throne.

"You have your own resolve and those of your Famiglia," Older Tsuna whispered, sitting on the throne and making himself comfortable, running slender fingers through the younger Tsuna's brown hair, while his other hand rested possessively on Giotto's hip.

"...and you have mine." Ignoring it, Giotto raised himself to his hands, almost leaning back against the other Tsuna before giving the younger brunette a chaste kiss.

"You will triumph with your own strength, your own greatness."

Tsuna nodded, his gaze flickering over to his older self's eyes before raising a hand to lightly caress the First's cheek. They were warm, and Giotto's flame embraced him tightly, binding him completely.

"Yes."

But it did nothing to change the coldness of the Vongola's Throne.

fin.

A/n: Well... yeah. It's a PWP, because I lack plot and I'm awesome that way.

At any rate, it was late at night when I wrote this---and for some reason, I always write Giotto...so evil. Uh, no idea why, but he ends up being vulnerable anyway, so yeah. [3] …I guess that's the reason I shouldn't write him so much.

A few notes~~ just to clear things off"

The throne represents Tsuna's responsibility as Boss of the Famiglia. While, indeed, Giotto's flame guides Tsuna and eases and supports him, it cannot take away that responsibility.

Also, you'll notice the slight transition from badass!Vongola Primo to kind!ancestor!Giotto? Well, because at first, Giotto was only doing this as it was his duty, because he is the Boss of all the Bosses. It was his obligation to help his successors in any way possible. ...I forget where, but in a fanfic, I remember Giotto's resolve being described as godlike. Well, here, while it is in the beginning godlike, it still crumbles down to the fact that Giotto is only human in the end. Because, really, the guy's human. In my head, the way KHR's describing him, it makes him sound like some perfect person or something, I kid you not.

And I like the idea of Giotto being dominated. I don't know why…. But okay, maybe not dominated, but well, at least being the receiving end of the affection. Or something. Yeah, I like him dominated. [^w^]

....Lastly, do forgive the many liberties I took with the kinks. Heh~~... I'm not really good at threesomes. Never wrote one, and I fail so much, but yeah~~ [3]. Really sorry---the blindfold became, er, a quick come-and-go of blindness.

yeah.

I fail so hard. Hehe~~

Anyways, please review! I'd like to hear some feedback~ Just the usual two cents would be fine--- was it okay? Is it good? Is it too bland? Too shitty? Too many grammatical errors? Should I quit writing altogether?

Thanks for reading~!