Poor Lambo, they lamented, to be hated so terribly by Reborn, the greatest hitman in the world. He MUST not be worth the time he's given in Vongola!
They were wrong, of course. He himself had been the one to declare Lambo the thunder guardian. He himself had been the one to bring Lambo to Tsuna, thus dragging him into the new generation of the Vongola family.
They thought he hated the cow-child. What they could never guess was that he had loved him from their second meeting (possibly not as romantic as 'at first sight', but it was the truth); there in Tsuna's room, just after the activation of the 10-year bazooka.
Of course, who would guess such a thing? The boy was a snot-nosed, selfish, bratty, five-year old crybaby. There was nothing pleasant about him, not really. On top of his other unlikeable qualities, he was falsely confident, had an arsenal that went off at inopportune times, and was prone to pee his disgusting cow-print pajamas.
He wouldn't have guessed such a thing either, but there on Lambo's throat, the fifteen-year old Lambo, just beneath his jaw, had been minute proof of what should never have been possible; a hickey. Of course, anyone could have made that hickey, but no one with the aura Lambo carried could have put that bruise on the teen; the aura of someone well-loved and looking at the one who had made them that way – while he had been looking at Reborn.
And then, in a poof of pink smoke, his future lover disappeared and was replaced with the present brat.
Anyone who saw him interact (or thereof lack of interaction) with Lambo thought he despised the boy; they believed that his ignorance of the child honestly had something to do with rank of all things.
That couldn't have been further from the truth; a mere excuse on his part, one that someone should have been able to know was a lie the moment he uttered it.
Gokudera was a runaway from his own family, literal garbage as far as the mafia was concerned for abandoning his own people and then being considered useless by every other family he ever ran to. Pitiful was he, the boy who nobody wanted and wanted nothing more but to be wanted. Reborn acknowledged that sorry, broken child, the one that didn't even have a rank of his own except for the rage he was openly known for.
Yamamoto wasn't even part of the mafia, someone who so happened to be included in swordsmanship that he hadn't even learn till he had been included in the mafia. He was a sushi-boy, a sports fanatic. He didn't even have a rank, despite his superb katana. Reborn acknowledged that tranquil, never-startled child nonetheless.
Tsuna may be the next Vongola boss, but he hadn't acted that way when they had first met. He was reluctant to be a don, slow to give out orders, and his strongest point was his compassion, which somehow just got them out of nearly all trouble they were thrust into. Reborn acknowledged that stupid-Tsuna.
He noticed the Simon family, a group so low on the food chain that other mafia families considered them a punching bag. Even before they had come out as the olden allies of the Vongola, completely misunderstood and undeniably powerful, Reborn had respected them.
He acknowledged the lowly thieves on the street, the dirty nobodies who hid in the alleys, the drunks in the bar, and even the filthy animals who dug through the filth for their next meal.
How could Lambo be so low in ranking that Reborn wouldn't, absolutely refused to, realize him?
In reality, Lambo was so high above everyone else, Reborn was being merciful. People he acknowledged were people others acknowledged as targets. Those he took notice of were liable to be killed; after all, he was the greatest hitman in the entire world. He could shake hands with a homeless bum and, suddenly, the homeless bum turned up dead, tortured till he had breathed his last.
He had gone off to train Tsuna and abruptly he was everything the earth over wanted dead. Though that was more understandably for him being the intended tenth Vongola, but no one would have known such if Reborn had stayed away.
So he ignored Lambo and he stayed, for the most part, safe. The one time Reborn did acknowledge him was to make him the thunder guardian; and, like he had always known, he became very popular among assassins and was dragged into life-or-death situations. Wasn't that just sad?
He had even apologized for it when they had gone up against Rauji. Who would have thought that Lambo would feel so strongly about staying with them always? He sniggered to admit that he had always had a slight idea of it.
That snot-nosed brat, they sneered, deserves every ounce of abuse Reborn gives him! Except, they were wrong there too.
Lambo didn't go through half the abuse the other guardians did; when he attacked Reborn, Reborn would teach him a lesson in why he shouldn't. Whenever Reborn was feeling merciless, he surprised the child with an unprecedented assault, enjoying the cry of pain and shock, the resulting teary eyes and pout.
He never made the child pay for his meals, or cling to the outside of speeding objects. He didn't force him to be a part of hellish training or expect him to know anything.
No matter what others thought, he loved that stupid boy. No matter what others thought, he spoiled that stupid boy rotten.
Mere months after Daemon Spade's attack, the arcobaleno broke their curse thanks to the helpful hints dropped by the Vindicare.
He looked down at his body, one of a full-grown man instead of an infant. And he smirked, because, suddenly, he knew he could accomplish anything. Including claiming what was his.
He could see the lust in Bianchi's eyes, the awe in the Vongola family's gazes, the fear in the glares of the Varia. And he could see all of that combined in the eyes of a five-year old boy who stared up at him as if he were god, wide electric green orbs that were full of love and hate as the cow-child approached him on hesitant feet.
When he had been within arm's length of Reborn's leg, quivering in uncertainty, green eyes had hardened and a pink grenade had appeared from his afro. "Die, REBORN! HOW DARE YOU GROW UP FASTER THAN ME!"
He had deflected the grenade and had consequently thrown Lambo seventeen feet, but he had been pleased by the kid's reaction.
Luce had invited him to spend Valentine's day with her as an uncle-niece get-together. Of course, he had accepted, and the day was full of sappy pink and red hearts, chocolates and amusement parks, and especially a watchful Gamma.
At the end of the endless day, he managed to peacefully say goodbye and then head back to HQ. Waiting at the door, who could it be but a ten-year old Lambo? And Lambo, so young, didn't understand why he was crying, or why he was angry, or why he felt jealous. All he understood was that he felt all of this because of something to do with Reborn.
Of course, the child would be crying, angry, and jealous; Reborn had just spent the day of amore with someone other than him, something he had subtly not done for the past five Valentine's Days. Certainly, no one had noticed such. He always found reasons to stay home on the days of love, coincidentally residing with the child who evidently was left behind on such holidays. Of course, they didn't actually celebrate it together, they just happened to be in the same room, eating a meal Reborn had uninterestedly cooked, not abusing each other for a rare occasion.
The hitman had been tickled to see the child so upset, feeling smug and content as Lambo had ranted. The ridiculous afro was gone and the child was as tall as his thigh. He had even managed to eliminate the cow-print pajamas, replacing them with a two-piece set of the same pattern; Reborn had considered it a great feat nonetheless.
When the child tried to kill him with a machine gun, Reborn had snatched the weapon from him in one hand and grabbed Lambo in the other, pulling the young one into his lap where he sat in a lounge chair.
He had kissed the boy, lips to lips, and he considered it a promise instead of pedophilia. There were no tongues, no caresses, only lips and pressure. When he pulled away, Lambo had stared up at him, eyes heavy lidded and mouth pouty; he had touched his lips imploringly, first kiss taken and never to be returned. Suddenly very calm and maybe confused, he had stumbled away and for three days afterward never said a word, not about anything or to anyone.
The kiss had been a promise of more to come.
At age thirteen, Reborn had taken to secretly training Lambo. The power the child wielded without knowing, the things he could do…
Lambo could absorb electricity and then channel it through a conductor; by way of experiments, Reborn learned that that didn't necessarily have to be his bovine horns or even the Thunder Helm Version X.
He could create electric fields strong enough to stop weapons of mass destruction, use the laws of cohesion to walk across water using subatomic charged particles as bonds, control the human body through the .7V of electricity flowing through their frames; the nervous system of the human race was broken down into the smallest particle, the electrically-charged neuron – and the neurons were the messengers that ran throughout the entire body, lining the spinal column that went from nerve to nerve periodically.
Maybe no one could understand just how deadly that was, but, just to give them a taste of it, they should understand that rabies was a neural disease, that was transported by the neurons to the brain where it caused inflammation that ultimately acted like madness till the moment the diseased died of it.
That could potentially be Lambo, if he could train him right. He wouldn't need the properties of the mist to do what Mukuro did naturally, he would just need an understanding of the human mind and how to manipulate it through what he could already control. He could cripple someone just by brushing against them or he could heal them by touching the damaged nerves. He could input thoughts if he was close enough, influencing the right parts of the brain and using the correct neurons. If he concentrated hard enough, he could possibly even use a stream of energy flowing between him and his prey, teasing the nerves to send him brain activities or even read wavelengths from a distance, thus reading minds.
The boy was full of deadly potential, a weapon he wouldn't let the world realize it had. Reborn didn't even let Tsuna know.
After another day of hard work, he ushered the child to his side and gave another promising kiss, knowing he would have to wait only a few more years, and whispered to the boy "let no one know."
That had included the past Vongola, the ones Lambo would meet again after he turned 15.
So, yes, it was his fault that Lambo always ran away crying in the past. It was because he had told the child to do so, demanding that he never let others see just how strong he was unless he had no other choice.
Of course, this being Lambo, it had taken more than just 'let no one know' to hold him to secrecy. Grapes and two more kisses had been involved, a few threats of what would happen to him and the Vongola family as a whole if he came out, and even what would happen to Reborn for showing him everything he had.
Lambo left that training session, teary eyed, and ran right to Tsuna to make sure that he was okay and then to offer him a piece of candy.
On Lambo's fifteenth birthday, Reborn knew exactly what he had planned for the night.
Tsuna tried to plan a party for him, but he declined. Other families tried to tantalize him into meeting their daughters, hoping to endear themselves to the Vongola family through marriage, but he said no. I-Pin and Fuuta tried a mini-family reunion, but he softly declared another agenda, one he left mysteriously unexplained.
That night, Lambo gave him his best come-hither he could muster (which was pretty damn good because, though Reborn had refused to let the boy have a lover, he had let the boy partake in simple seductions and petting sessions, preferring experience himself) and sashayed off to Reborn's room. When he followed five minutes later, Lambo was naked in the center of his bed, a male Aphrodite as he rested on his back and arched his spine, legs spread apart and hips rolling, hands above his head.
It was the most sensual dance Reborn had ever seen, one that made him heavy between his legs and his black eyes hot.
He stalked across the floor, stripping as he went, and by the time he settled over the teenager, he was as bare as the child beneath him.
An hour went by without penetration, merely showing each other different ecstasies through touch and caress, mouths and eyes. Foreplay they had learned through others and had somehow understood they were learning for each other.
When Reborn finally entered Lambo, it was like coming home, like the arcobaleno curse being broken all over again and returning back to himself while belonging to someone else completely. It was hot and slick, and it was meant entirely for him alone. Lambo cried and begged beneath him, carnal passion, and stretched out for his enjoyment on his bed in his room – all his. What elation.
They spent the night like that, experiencing what they had always known would be theirs, orgasms raining on them like a thunderstorm of Lambo's creation. It was hard, it was almost painful at times, and it was everything Reborn had expected it to be plus a few cries and acts that he hadn't predicted.
The passion paused with the rising sun, Reborn lounging against the pillows with Lambo exhausted across his chest, sleeping. He stroked back wavy black locks, fingertips slipping across pale beige skin, and he smirked to himself.
One day, Reborn will kill that annoyance, they liked to murmur. And they had been right; he had killed the cow – over and over and over again while Lambo begged for more and then begged for an end and then simply begged for Reborn.
The day came, a few months after Lambo's birthday, that he was first transported into the past to see Tsuna. Reborn stared down at his child-form that now rested in his lap, coincidentally right where his older version had been as they had been enjoying a heavy petting session outside the bedroom.
Reborn smirked down at the baby, finger beneath his chin, and told him, rather simply, "You are mine". With those three small words, murmured in such a low tone to a tiny five-year old, he sent the child crying.
Five minutes later, he found the fifteen-year old Lambo in his room, looking pouty and insulted. Reborn knew why – because he had ignored the child and then deflected his attacks in the past, obviously – and so didn't ask for the why of the mood.
He crawled onto the bed and merely made his lover feel better.
Author's Note: This is based off the manga, not the anime. Heh heh, I just always found it strange how Reborn ignored Lambo because of 'rank', but he would talk to everyone else.