Notes at the end.

There was pain.

There was pleasure.

And then there was Hibari Kyouya, a wicked maestro who wielded both with the same ruthless artistry as the gleaming metal tonfas that never left his side. Only his current opus was not composed of blood and bruises and broken bones, but of crying lips and tangled limbs and wide, passion–hazed, amber eyes.

Tsuna looked up into a predatory, midnight blue gaze, feeling the burn of agony edge the liquid ecstasy engulfing his body, and the part of his mind that was still rational, still functional wondered regretfully, guiltily how many more times he was going to repeat this dark, dangerous pattern?

The first time had been in high school. His important people, his precious people broken and bleeding just because they were his. So many hurt for him, because of him, to shield him when all he ever wanted to do was protect. The blinding anger, the soul ripping grief, the intolerable helplessness that made him want to cry and scream, to punish and be punished.

Running into Hibari, the other coolly, mockingly asking Tsuna if he planned on being a weak herbivore that could only cower and tremble and weep. A white hot, soul binding rage and then he attacked, and was attacked in return. Somewhere in the midst of it, with his ribs aching and his eye swelling, he'd seen a dab of crimson on Hibari's mouth, and he'd suddenly wanted to lick it, chase it with his tongue.

Which he did, knowing it could mean instant death, but unable to resist the wild, insane urge. Hibari stiffened at first, but then returned the kiss with a growl, slamming Tsuna up against a nearby building, and then somehow his pants were around his ankles, his legs were around Hibari's waist, and he was being penetrated, violated. It had been a rough, furious coupling with no preparation, no protection, and afterward Tsuna had been dazed, pained, shattered, but also healed.

Now, ten years later, when the weight of leadership became too heavy for his still slender shoulders, when he received reports like the one today, "Three wounded, one deceased, mission a success," and the need to howl his pain vied with the need to run away, leave it all behind, he would seek out his Cloud Guardian.

And Hibari would say, "Why have you come, little animal?" in that low, dark, velvet voice. But he knew, he always knew. It was there in his glittering dark eyes, in the cruelly sensual curve to his lips, in the tension humming like a taut wire through his sleek, sculpted body.

They would fight.

Fists flying, legs kicking, teeth snapping. Trading blow after blow, until Tsuna was panting and sweating, and yes, sometimes bleeding.

They would fuck.

Hearts pounding, hands tearing, bodies slapping. Hibari shoving hard and deep and fast until Tsuna was writhing and screaming, and yes, sometimes bleeding.

It hurt. It felt good. It was disgusting. It was cathartic. The paradox of these conflicting sensations, these emotions churning deep within only heightened the thrill pulsing through Tsuna's veins. Sometimes when he was riding the line between pleasure and pain, that line Hibari could draw along his body so easily, so masterfully, words would rise in Tsuna's throat. Some he let spill out.

"Harder." "Deeper." "More." "Hibari-san."

Others he bit back, swallowed down, held close. They were just three little words, but he was afraid to say them, afraid of how he would change, how they would change if those words ever passed his lips. Because surely the man who disdained all humanly bonds would despise the strongest, deepest bond of all.

So Tsuna could only repeat the same scenario over and over. Seeking out Hibari for solace, for penance, not understanding why Hibari indulged him, thankful that he did, and secretly wishing for a day when blood and death wouldn't be the only thing that brought them together.

Fin.

Notes: My deep and abiding passion for five years, since I discovered Katekyo Hitman Reborn, has always been Hibari x Tsuna. Even now, it is probably my greatest OTP of all time. I haven't written them in a long while, for many reasons, and would like to get back to them at some point. This came because I was having a really horrible, bad day yesterday and couldn't concentrate on anything, including the fic I was actually working on. It's my own kind of catharsis.

I apologize to everyone waiting on my KHR fics in progress. Life got in the way, and then a new obsession, and I just couldn't get into character's heads anymore. But I'm trying to come back to them.