Diclaimer: I don't own the characters or the series. Amano Akira does. I'm just playing with them for a bit.
A/N: Companion piece to The Rumoured Affair.
The Affair Without Rumours
There were no rumours, much though many would have liked to recount the tale, for the sheer absurdity of it all if not otherwise. There were no sly remarks, no ominous whispers as a man passed another in the corridor, no glances exchanged in so meaningful a manner many a spoken language would have been honoured to carry such intricate messages. There wasn't even some idle gossip, no casual remarks to a wife as the man came home after a day's work, no offhand comments to a colleague while standing in wait behind a door. Nobody simply dared.
He had never given an order, no command to stay hushed on the issue; all in all, he really just didn't care that much about what they said. It wasn't respect for him that bound their tongues, nor concern for his fame and reputation, much though they loved him and wished him well. Fear was what kept them quiet, not fear of his whip or even the disappointed gaze, but rather of cold, unforgiving steel and the merciless glint of dark eyes.
There were no rumours, yet that didn't seem to matter; though there were few who truly knew just about everyone seemed somewhat aware. They were aware of words murmured in the silence of the falling dusk, of pale fingers gripping and bruising and caressing, of the marks expertly placed to barely peek over his collar just so, vicious and hungry and possessive. There were few secrets in the world of families, few things one could hope to hide, especially when one was the boss, the one everyone's eyes were locked on to.
There were still things they didn't know, couldn't know, the way his heart moved at each heated glare, the ache of reaching out at night and finding his side deserted. They didn't know how the bite marks itched, how sometimes the harsh words could be brushed off and sometimes they stung oh so painfully, how there were times he lay awake at night and wondered if the feeling making his heart clench was love or hate or simply frustration.
There were no rumours, yet everyone seemed aware, and yet again none of them truly knew what was going on, how could they have known when he himself wasn't rightly aware. All he knew was that he yearned to feel those pale fingers, that burning mouth spouting words of violence and anger, and though he knew perhaps better than anyone not to claim any knowledge on the thoughts of Hibari Kyouya he sometimes imagined he felt the lithe body press that little bit closer to him in the dark as he drifted off to sleep.
