Lambo wants to say that he's crying because what Reborn is doing hurts. He doesn't want to admit that he's sobbing because it feels so good, or that tears are falling from his eyes because he feels alive; he wants to be crying because it hurts and it's degrading. Yet that would a lie, and he doesn't have the voice or the will to stick by it.
In out, In out, In out, ARCH! "GOODNESS!" His hands reach beneath himself to circle his erection, trying to pump it in time with Reborn, but his hands are grabbed and slammed against the headboard as Reborn bites down on the back of his neck.
In out, in out, in out; the tempo becomes faster, pounding Lambo into the bed covers, causing the blankets to rasp against his manhood until he's squirming and undulating and begging. "M-More! NNah! R-R- AAH!" Reborn wraps his fingers into a clump of thick, uneven brunette hair, twisting it and pulling it back until Lambo's chest is curved off of the bed and he actually does feel pain that has no edge of pleasure.
He can feel Reborn's smirk against his neck. Reborn's hands drag down his wheat colored skin, darkening it red with foretold bruises.
In out, in out, in out, in out "NNNAAAAHH!" Reborn had struck that spot hidden within him, pounding against it with all the force his hips could exert into him. Lambo claws at the head board and then the covers as he can't hold himself up any longer; only Reborn's forceful hold on his hips keeps his ass in the air, open for Reborn to surge into time and time and time again. There's the slap of flesh against flesh as Reborn's abdomen shoves up against Lambo's bottom.
Reborn changes the angle, wrapping an arm around Lambo's chest and pulling him back against him as he sits back, thrusting up into the pliant body of the 16 year old. Reborn runs his tongue over the earlier bite before sinking his teeth in again, demanding that Lambo admit to the message Reborn is conveying by his viciously possessive acts: 'mine'.
He bites his tongue until he tastes blood in his mouth; he doesn't want to admit it. Reborn stops all movement, his cock in Lambo to the hilt, his sac pressed to intimate cheeks. He doesn't growl, – Lambo had never heard Reborn utter such an animalistic sound – but he had never needed to because just the feel of Reborn breathing against his shoulder, the way his skillful, deadly fingers twist each of his already hardened bronze nipples, how his teeth sink into his skin until he knows Reborn is tasting the same sweet copper taste he is, is animalistic enough for Lambo.
Reborn owns him, and there's not a thing he can say or do against it; he can't even deny it in the light of day like Reborn does because then things like this happen.
"Yours!" He finally whimpers, his body twisting and his hips bucking without success – Reborn won't cooperate with him, won't move a damn muscle aside from his hands that tease the still young Lambo to frenzy and his mouth which moves only to suckle the blood that spills so slowly. "I'm yours! No one else's!"
He can feel Reborn smirk against the back of his neck. He nuzzles his cheek between Lambo's shoulder blades and chuckles approvingly.
He slides out of Lambo, turning the boy onto his back and staring down at him with something that almost looks like adoration except there's something cruel and sadistic there as well and how Reborn's lips are curled is hardly tender looking. Reborn pushes back into him before putting his hands on either side of his head, thrusting in and out, in and out, in and out, in such a deliciously, torturing pace that Lambo's driven to madness.
He arches up, tries to fuck himself on Reborn's cock, twists and shakes and screams as he claws at Reborn's shoulders, back, and biceps.
He sobs and clenches his teeth. "Please! R-… AH!" Reborn lifts his hips off of the bed and uses the downward angle to penetrate deeper; his temp doesn't change, each thrust is deep and slow. His hands scrabble at the blankets beneath him. He wraps his legs around Reborn's waist, pushing back onto him as hard as he possibly can. "R-R-REBORN-NNNAAH!" Tears trail down his cheeks and slip pass his ears to either lie in his hair or sneak onto the comforter beneath him. "I can't… I can't…" He was going to cum and cum so hard that he was going to die – he was going to die.
His head thrashes from side to side. He finally finds purchase on Reborn's shoulders, digging his nails in until he feels skin breaks; he doesn't let go no matter what, even when the quaking of his body worsens until he's nothing but a shivering mass of nerves readying to explode.
He can't even pronounce a word, his name, can't even remember his own by this time. God forbid he forget Reborn's, though. It's the only thought going through his head, over and over again in its own pleading mantra –
'Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, Reborn, Re~born, Reeee-booorrrrnnn, REBORN! Re-b-b-b-born-nnnnah! Reborn… Reborn! Re- Re- REBORN!' "AAAAHH! GAH AAH HA AAH!" There are spots dancing behind his tightly shut eyelids.
"Open your eye." Whispers huskily the voice of his dominating lover directly into his ear. There's not enough will in Lambo to deny him, so he opens his one eye only to witness the others proud smirk and evilly naughty dark, dark black gleaming eyes.
His eye is shining with a haze of tears and glazed over with pleasure; whether he can focus on what he's actually seeing is unknown – all he can focus on is Reborn's face as the other man grabs his thigh and hitches his ass against his hips, swiveling his hips until it brushes against Lambo's prostate and then –
"AAAAAAHHH!" Darkness swallows Lambo whole as he cums violently, that one powerful, mind numbing thrust throwing him over the edge of consciousness into oblivion.
He must not have been out long – he's not even fully conscious before he feels that Reborn is still pounding into him so hard that the headboard is creaking and each breath Lambo takes hitches on each plunging motion. He's half hard instantly and moaning pathetically; he doesn't have the strength or the voice to scream or even grab at anything. His hands paw at the covers, but it's a fruitless grab back onto reality.
Reborn licks his upper lick, nice and slow as he glares down at Lambo with heat and passion and ownership. And then those sinful lips are over Lambo's, slipping his tongue into his mouth, tangling tongues and nipping at his bottom lip. Lambo can taste smoke and coffee and it's enough to make him whine high-pitched deeply in his throat and buck his hips once, cumming between their bellies a second time.
Completely limp and too weak to even flutter an eyelid, Lambo watches through one hazy, not completely aware, eye as Reborn's face hardens: his eyes narrow and he grimaces, his body tenses as Lambo's milks him for all he's worth for the second time in only a few minutes. This time, Lambo can see him give up the fight to keep his orgasm in check and he feels the hot, throbbing seed hit his prostate and soak his insides.
He groans slightly.
Reborn is frozen with that face and that body until his orgasm is over, and then he relaxes enough to slide out of Lambo and sit to his one side, grabbing a cig from the nearby small table and lighting it. He puts it to his lips and rests back against the headboard, not bothering to cover his naked self.
Lambo somehow manages to wiggle onto his side to watch him. He's so tired, but there's something… not wrong, but something off about Reborn's expression. It's like the face he has when he's waiting for the outcome of something uncertain, the frown he has right before he breaks out into smirk over an either unexpected or expected victory on the side of the Vongola. It's the first time Lambo can see his eyes while he has this expression, seeing as how the fedora had long been tossed onto one of the bed posts.
They're dull like coal, far away and ancient.
Lambo blinks; it's not the expression he expected, especially after what they had just done. He doesn't like it either; it makes him feel as if he knows nothing while Reborn carries the world on his shoulders.
He raises a hand… hesitates… He takes a subtle deep breath for strength and then rests his hand over Reborn's jaw, feathering his thumb by the corner of his lips where they're strained looking, as if his thoughts were not in happy places. He raises his hand, whispering them quickly over Reborn's eyes (the hitman refuses to be blind for any reason for any amount of time) and stroking his fingers through his hair.
Reborn doesn't move nor does he acknowledge Lambo's touch; he continues staring ahead, his cigarette held absent mindedly in one hand and his expression still hard.
Lambo, despite his very sore and very tired body, sits up and scoots a little closer; Reborn doesn't like to be touched unless he gives permission to be touched and he hadn't permitted Lambo to touch him – yes, he's being a little cautious here.
He brings his other hand up, his fingers trembling somewhat as he cups Reborn's jaw; the hand that had been in his hair falls softly from the mass of black spikes to land carefully over the man's heart. There's a heartbeat, so, despite the stillness of Reborn, he's still alive.
Reborn's still not paying attention to him; Lambo has no clue what to do.
He decides to take a risk and do what he feels like doing, led by a hand of tenderness and benevolence. He nuzzles his face into the junction of Reborn's neck and shoulder as his hands drift down his back and trail carefully over the skin, teasing hard muscles to relax and even shiver.
An arm wraps around his waist and drags him to Reborn's side, half on him and half not, their chests against each other's. When Lambo looks up, Reborn is staring down at him.
"What are you doing, you stupid cow?" The insult sounds as if it is said more out of habit than annoyance; Reborn's voice is amazingly soft and the tone draws Lambo in until he forgets what Reborn even said just to replay the sound of it in his mind. Reborn has to scowl at him before he remembers he's supposed to answer.
"I didn't like that look." His voice is level if not cracked (it hurt from screaming); his one eye is lazily at half mast and his posture relaxed though he's hyper aware of Reborn's touch.
Reborn raises a mocking brow. "That look…?" There's clearly a demand for him to explain himself.
Lambo opens and shuts his mouth a few times, unable to find a way to describe 'the look'. He thinks maybe sad, but Reborn hadn't looked sad as much as distant and then he wants to say thoughtful, but it had looked as if Reborn hadn't actually been thinking as much as drifting; Absent minded sounds nearly right, but that wouldn't cover for the strain and ancientness.
Finally, he sighs, resting his ear over Reborn's heart.
'Thu-thump… thu-thump… thu-thump… thu-thump…' "It looked like this" Lambo finally decides, nuzzling his cheek against the breast to show that he's talking about his heart. "was drowning." Like a man lost at sea, who floats on the currents and contemplates the last moments of his life as the water embraces him slowly into its depths; something painless but no less terrible than agony.
Reborn snorts. "How could it have looked like my heart was drowning?" His tone is still incredibly soft, though there is definitely a leer in the snide question.
"Yare, yare, I don't know." Lambo admits, unable to form his thoughts into words that he can clarify with. "It just did."
"Idiot." Lambo isn't offended. Reborn takes a puff and then kills the rest of the cigarette, grinding it's glowing bud into a glass ashtray at the side table.
He tilts Lambo's head up and descends, giving Lambo a – shockingly – chaste kiss. Lambo's eye slides shut and he tangles a hand into the short hairs at the base of Reborn's skull.
Reborn releases him to rest his head against his throat. Lambo listens to him breathe and it's enough to lull him to sleep, his arms wrapping around Reborn's neck like they would a pillow to pull closer.
He always wants Reborn closer.
Ladies and gents, my first RebornXLambo story. This is definitely stepping out of the box for me because I've been doing GaaLee for Naruto all of this time. Yes, it sucks, but, as I said, this is my first time with this pairing.