This was originally supposed to be part of "The Liger's Piece of Sky"; but seeing how it outgrew the size of a drabble, I'm uploading it as a standalone instead.
Happy reading! :) (P.S. There are a lot of allusions to their relationship's development in this one. I hope you can spot them! ;D)
Title: Encircled
Pairing: Xanxus/Tsuna
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance + faint humor?
Warning: Xanxus's language; and one sleepy writer. With the audacity to post her story UNBETA'ED.
Summary: Now he would always have another keepsake beside his bed; next to his (?) and Lancia's ring.
Disclaimer: If I had my way, [*almost] none of the KHR cast would be absolutely straight.
After the announcements, it was the Storm who reached him first (naturally; given how fanatical the idiot was of everything Guardian-related). And so it was this particular piece of trash who entitled himself to threatening castration if he ever dared hurt his Beloved Decimo.
Which was why the Rain, who arrived second, suggested that left the legs to him. Then came the Mist. (Stupid drag queen. There had to be one in every seven.) The Sun. The Cloud. Every fucking one of them, save the Thunder brat and the Mist woman (smarter people; Xanxus assumed) came up like a row of fucking ducks and promised sundry kinds of torture; as if they could breathe within ten feet of him without his indulgence.
(*Cue contemptuous laugh) Jumped-up bastards. He should've shot the whole lot of them then for their presumption (and for boring him to pieces).
Of course the son-of-a-whore Arcobaleno had to chip in; and bring his gun too to stoke the insult. There could've been a nice, little shootout if his adamant Tsunayoshi hadn't insisted on tagging along. One of these days, Reborn (or whatever gore-spattered bits were left of him) was going to paint the Varia walls.
Hell; even his old man had dredged up a sodding bit of fatherly advice. How he had to be a more reasonable and responsible man now. That would also have been a problem – if the answering machine hadn't been mysteriously eviscerated.
And now this!
Forced to endure Iemitsu's hints of "shearing certain parts of his anatomy", Xanxus would've cracked –and fucked whatever moral code dictating that you couldn't kill your future in-law twice over –if Tsunayoshi wasn't (again) making doe eyes at him. Not that he cared the least bit for his own safety (Tsunayoshi would never forgive the old freak for attempting the shit he was spewing); but it was fucking irritating and he was feeling not a little humiliated. Luckily, no one else was here to witness the meeting between father and suitor, or he'd have been forced to burn them to a crisp; which wouldn't sit well with his lover either.
...
Why the FUCK did everyone suddenly think they could patronize him?
"Are you listening to me?" Xanxus cocked his head back to the insipidly cheerful gaze. He had to admit; it could be effectively unnerving for lesser men when facing that bloody joviality; knowing how purposely it opposed the man's true colours. But then, Sawada Nana wouldn't be still be in blissful denial if her husband could not half put up a decent act. (Or maybe he couldn't. From what he heard, Iemitsu was "directing traffic around the globe, even for migrating penguins!" Just who the fuck was he supposed to be kidding?)
In the space of time it took him to complete this train of thought, the Young Lion had (finally!) nodded his acquiescence and wrapped up his little speech. Which was really what all this had been about. Xanxus would have dearly loved to marry the youth straight off –sign the sheet; bang the missus the next blink– if everyone, including the bride –coughfangedgrincough– other bridegroom hadn't pushed for the usual fucking ceremony.
The dark, amply scarred man snorted and thumped his heels on the table; all pretenses at decorum gone alongside his new, unwelcome relative. "Someone," he growled, arrogance incarnate; "needs to tell your old man to grow up. Extract my eyeballs with red-hot tongs? Hah! Even Levi couldn't do worse." Vermillion eyes stabbed. Not a good sign.
Tsuna suppressed a sigh. By now he knew it could be easier to halt a speeding truck than to stop his boyfriend from ranting once he got going. The only solution was to quickly head it off. "He's my father," he said simply. "In any case, you wouldn't have to deal with him like this often." That was true. Their respective areas of work in the Vongola were different enough that there were (quite safely) many layers of referrals, messengers and the like between them. Palisade fodders, he inferred. Small chance some predecessor of his could have had the foresight; yet he was grateful.
"Whatever," The mercurial male grumbled. "Anyway." The Vongola Sky didn't exactly miss the inflection in his partner's voice before a dark object sailed his way; to be caught reflexively.
A small, squarish felt box.
Warm, mahogany peepers reflected surprise. "What? You figured I'd fly myself obediently to Japan just to watch Iemitsu water the air with his spit?" The Varia boss rolled his eyes. "Open it." Was that–? Could it be feasible that his jaded lover was hiding discomfort?
Biting his cheek to maintain a carefully neutral exterior, he flipped open the lid with tender movements.
Kami in Heaven.
Nestled in the off-white satin was a ring of the gaudiest, most painfully pompous make he had ever seen. (Which was saying much; considering the tasteless pieces he'd encountered in balls and private showrooms.) At least 40 minute champagne and royal blue sapphires paved the white gold; crowned by an oblong, ruby-framed diamond that would surely cover an entire segment of his thumb. And all the while; an expectant, handsome, predatory alpha male was watching him with an arched eyebrow. "Well?"
Just as he was wracking his brains for any, slightest possibility of rejecting without detonating the landmine, his devilish half flashed the billion-dollar smirk. "Just messing with you. Here." Another circlet was pressed onto his palm. It was a plain, silvery band this time; befitting a young don and wearable on all occasions. Thank god.
Between refraining from commenting (if he could be heard at all above the very expressive shows of mirth) or clucking at what his shocked mind failed to diagnose as fake, he chose to examine the clear, twinkling metal. "Platinum," he stated.
"Bespoke platinum," The giver replied; obvious enjoyment at having startled him once more. As he rightly was. The insides had been engraved with the trademark for one of the top jewelers in the world; and each bespoke ring they crafted had the price of an average sports car.
Xanxus had talked of trading his old bike in for one. A Gallardo LP560-4.
Which, he realised; would not grace the Varia mansion for another year now that he had bought this. Unrestrained temper and alcoholism aside, his fiancé would never have made it to where he was if he wasn't sufficiently frugal.
His lips wanted to pry themselves apart in protest. Then the glimpse of an identical band on a broader hand sealed them; so they reached across and folded themselves over their matching companions in the softest kiss. "Thank you."
The released mouth formed a twisted curve. "That all I get?"
"No." The shorter one answered. He led the other closer by his unraveling tie.
"That's the prelude to something better."
(*Owari.)
A/N: I feel that there's something to be done about the cadence...
According to the Platinum Guild, platinum is 30 times rarer than gold; and lasts far longer. Also, a Gallardo costs about $205,000 at the minimum; while custom-made platinum rings can go up to several hundred thousand in US dollars. So that comparison isn't exactly too far-fetched. :P
Xanxus is supposed to be angry; but I fear I may have overdone it...it's been a long time since I wrote a fic of him being closer to his canon self; and not mellowed...
Your feedback is always appreciated! ^^
