That was Reborn's yellow dress shirt. Buttons were being cut off with a small trailing-point blade from said yellow dress shirt, ruining it. So, by deduction, it was his shirt that was being ruined.
It was common knowledge that no one simply got away with damaging anything considered property of the great and powerful Reborn, which could explain why no one ever tried to. He could walk outside during a tornado, step directly into its path, and even the tornado would go around him. No one messed with Reborn.
But, in this case, he was considering just letting it happen. Because Reborn, so great and powerful, was incredibly intelligent. He knew that the reward he would get for not committing hours of bloody, agonizing torture was far greater than avenging a measly shirt that could easily be replaced.
He leaned back against the headboard and crossed one ankle over the other. Light, unfitting music played in the background, piano and French horns working in unison as the knife sliced away the last two buttons.
Reborn's black eyes travelled over what was revealed with the annihilation of that one piece of clothing, from a prominent collarbone across a small chest down a slim torso – oh, what a naughty ahoushi…
He watched hips roll against the tight black fabric of leather shorts too mini to even be considered shorts. They were hardly a bikini as they hiked up long, milky thighs in a rhythmic dance not echoed by the current audio but more in tuned with some inner heat that he could see reflected in spitfire green eyes.
There was a glass of red wine supplied for him on the bedside table. He reached out and lazily brought it to his lips, still staring, watching, waiting.
Lambo was going to have to bring himself closer to him at one point or another.
Lambo's face was flushed, black curly hair still damp from a shower that had happened before Reborn's arrival, and the half-tilt of his plump lips suggested that he knew exactly what the hitman was thinking. He had, after all, spent thirteen years following him.
The little bovine's hands found and grabbed onto the footboard, leaned on it, and then Lambo had elegantly swung him up into the bed with a very revealing flash of just how tight his leather hot pants were.
Oh, yes, he knew exactly what Reborn was thinking.
The hitman smirked and set his wine aside once more. Lambo gave him a hungry look that was somehow at the same time maddeningly innocent and stalked towards him, on hands and knees. His palms and fingers kneaded his calves as he approached closer and closer and closer, caresses falling higher up on his body as he made the slow travel to his lap.
Reborn had a thought to take matters into his own hands. He had been, after all, gone for two weeks. Two weeks in which he had remained faithful to this stupid cow, even with his own high libido. He could very well say to hell with the lap dance and flip Lambo onto his belly, rip that skin-tight leather off of him, and do as he pleased with Lambo's very loud approval.
Again, the reward was greater. Lambo had gone through all the trouble of planning this for him, most likely had even asked some very embarrassing questions to more or less very shady characters, so the least he could do was enjoy the show…
His nostrils flared. He smelled clove.
"Do you like it?" Lambo slid a hand down his chest, expert fingers undoing first his suit coat and then his dress shirt, much like the one Lambo had just ruined. His hips were stubbornly raised, keeping space between him and Reborn. Torture or teasing?
His hands twitched.
Torture.
But he kept a light smirk and held his silence, baiting the young man along because he knew Lambo couldn't handle the quiet.
And he couldn't. His cheeks puffed out – not cute in the least – and that drowsy, bedroom look slowly turned to irritation. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
He gave no reply. Instead, he turned to tipping his fedora slightly forward, as if he could go to sleep even with what was going on, even as he kept his eyes trained on the few centimeters between them. Clove tickled his thoughts, strong and making Lambo's pale beige skin look too appetizing for the guardian's own good.
The air bristled with humidity, suddenly, and he knew he was getting Lambo mad. If this continued, a thunderstorm was going to start there in the bedroom.
But then it cleared. He gave Lambo a suspicious look from beneath the brim of his fedora, not able to meet his gaze as the younger man had followed Reborn's eyes to where they had previously been. His cheeks burned red.
"You're so perverted, Reborn…" And then he dipped down, seam of his pants hard against both of them as he rubbed back and forth on his half-hard interest. "Oooooh…"
The hitman swallowed back a growl. And Lambo, damn that ahoushi, noticed. His pink tongue darted out and wetted his dark lips as he rode Reborn's erection through three layers of clothing (he doubted there was any underwear beneath those leather shorts), one hand resting low on his belly for support as the other slid beneath the waist of his shorts and touched himself.
"Yare, yare… So m-mean. I guess-ss I h-have to please m-mm-myself then."
That smirk he used – the one that made Reborn want to give up his unbreakable self-control for a moment of wild abandon just to put the guardian back in his place – was one that had been perfected over years of mocking and teasing and advancing on the hitman.
He hated it.
It turned him on.
His hands turned into fists at his sides. It was no longer a matter of being the greater man, now he just didn't want to give the ahoushi the pleasure of having him give into his sex appeal.
Lambo unbuttoned his shorts, still moving – side to side, front to back, up and down like some carnival attraction –, and whimpered as he freed himself from what was, no doubt, a very uncomfortable position.
He was wearing a cock ring. How long did he plan to go for? His smirk revealed, longer than Reborn.
And then he undid Reborn's pants, reached in, and his penis sprung out towards Lambo's ministrations like a dog for attention. Lambo even petted it, muttering "good boy" under his breath.
Reborn's lust was reaching new highs.
The reward was starting to not sound as great as the final product – a well-fucked ahoushi spread across the bed, in tears because of how his body had been played for hours on end.
It wouldn't be giving in. It would be taking over. There was a difference, damn it. So he reached out, callous, pianist hands settling on Lambo's waist…
And the guardian threaded their fingers together, lifting his hands away and bring them to his sinful little mouth, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles with those wanton green eyes staring down at him. His hips retreated just a bit, at just the right angle, and then their erections were bumping against each other, sliding, getting slick from each other's pre-cum.
"This isn't g-good self-control a-at all," Lambo reprimanded in a breathy, husky voice. "B-bad Reborn."
The ahoushi sucked one of his fingers into his mouth, tongue enveloping it in wet warmth, moaning around it like it was something else entirely. He settled Reborn's other hand on his chest, over his heart, and consequently over one hard nipple just begging for his attention.
His thumb and pointer finger found the bud and twisted mercilessly. Lambo jerked, shuddered, and his blush grew darker by tenfold. Reborn's yellow shirt was starting to stick to the little bovine's glistening skin, his pace becoming off-kilter.
He hadn't been expecting that. No, he had put Reborn's hand there, expecting him to behave. Lambo glowered down at him and bit down hard on the pad of his finger, drawing blood. He licked the wound better, but the threat was clear.
Abruptly, he removed himself entirely from Reborn's grasp, swinging around so his ass was facing him and he was on all fours again. Lusty green eyes met his over the guardian's shoulder as he balanced on one hand and the other reached back and slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the leather shorts down. They stretched across his thighs and strained at his spread knees.
Reborn's attention was stolen from Lambo's gaze by a string that dangled from the younger man's entrance, causing so very many curious thoughts to flow through his head. And what could that be attached to…?
"W-want to find out?" Lambo grabbed one ass cheek and pulled at it, giving Reborn a better look. "F-find out."
He was being ordered around… by the ahoushi! He was wearing that saucy grin, knowing exactly what he was doing to the hitman. He should consider himself lucky that Reborn didn't pistol whip him.
He twirled the string around his fingers, giving phantom tugs just to see Lambo's expression scrunch up and relax in ecstasy. His arm was trembling from holding himself up. No, his entire body was trembling, shaking from the top of his head to the tips of his feet.
Reborn didn't see why he had to be the good guy and relieve him.
He did so anyway.
He pulled until Lambo had folded and his face was pressed into the blankets, crying softly into its fabric as first one large bead, roughly the size of the head of Reborn's cock, popped free. One bead after another, each getting gradually smaller, came out till the very last one, nearly the size of a marble.
He tossed the toy aside and instantly grabbed the shivering ass in both hands, rubbing till he saw just how nice and loose Lambo's hole was. "Ahoushi…"
"Re-Reborn…" He laughed lowly. "G-got you to… to talk!"
The hitman ran a hand over his erection, spreading the pre-cum along his length, as he sat up on his knees behind the dazed Lambo. "Wait till you feel what you've gotten me to do next."
"Wha – Nnnnngghaaa!" He scrabbled and twisted and panted and moaned and whimpered and cried.
But it was too late. Reborn thrust into his hot, welcoming body till his pubic hairs tickled the curve of Lambo's derriere.
He had spent two weeks waiting for this. It was worth every second.
"Reborn!" Lambo looked desperately up at him. "Reborn…"
Reborn soothed a hand down his cheek and then along his spine, creating more wrinkles in the shirt that had been sacrificed in the making of this night. "Now it's my turn, ahoushi."
He leaned down and captured the guardian's lips for the first time since coming back. Tart grapes and mint flooded his taste buds as his younger lover eagerly kissed him, not giving an inch but fighting as if for dear life.
The hitman twined a hand in his black, springy hair and pulled till Lambo was forced to retreat, gazing at him tearfully. He muttered curses under his breath as Reborn continued to assault his body with slow, deep thrusts.
"Teases don't deserve mercy." He bit the guardian's bottom lip. Hard. Hard enough that it bled, before he lapped the blood away. "I'm going to show you what it's like to die a hundred times over."
He was right and wrong. The reward and the final product were equally…
Delicious.
~::~
Author's Note: usopp45 asked me to write an RL story involving a lap dance for her sister's birthday tomorrow… HAPPY BELATED TWENTIETH BIRTHDAY, usopp45's sister! I hope you loved the story.
I watched the world's most boring lap dance for inspiration. Hopefully, this was more exciting.
