Title: Resistance Is Futile
Characters/Pairings: Reborn/Lambo
Rating: T
Summary: Lambo has no will to resist.
Cold metal pressed against Lambo's temple with sure familiarity.
"I would like to ask what you think you're doing but I'm afraid I won't want to hear the answer."
Lambo attempted to look up but chickened out at the last second—the press of Reborn's gun was always frightening. He could feel his adams apple bob as he swallowed thickly.
Caught in the act—red handed even. Or… well, his hands weren't exactly red, more of a nice lavender and was that the click of a safety switch he'd just heard?
"Ah, Reborn—"
"You're going to tell me those aren't the grapes reserved for tonight's Welcome Home feast and then I'll ask you were you picked up such fine, expensive Concord grapes shipped from North America and you'll explain to me that I simply must be mistaken about the grapes you have stupidly devoured without a second thought."
Lambo felt sweat trickled down between his shoulder blades uncomfortably.
"T-these aren't the gra—"
"Wrong answer." Reborn hissed before shooting off a few stray hairs from the top of his head. Lambo jumped so badly he squished the grape he was holding on accident. Rich, dark purple juice dripped down over his thin fingers—between and over his palm, down his wrist, coloring his hand like fresh paint. He frowned sadly at the loss of such a delicious grape.
Lambo was only aware of Reborn also watching the trail of grape juice when the hitman growled lowly.
"Return what's left of the grapes, you stupid cow." Lambo watched the gun twirl smoothly on one long finger before it disappeared inside Reborn's crisp black suit jacket.
The remaining grapes tempted him but with Reborn at his back, Lambo didn't plan to linger long. He moved to swipe his sticky fingers across the back of his pants but Reborn snatched his wrist up—with one body jolting yank, Lambo was beside Reborn.
"What're you—oh." Lambo unconsciously curled his juice covered fingers around Reborn's impossibly deft tongue. A dark red blush settled high on his cheeks as Reborn smeared grape juice between his lips. Lambo knees shook when Reborn took his knuckle between his lips and bit down harshly. Reborn released him and his hand dropped like a rock.
"Go wash your hands before I shoot them off." Reborn turned and left just as quickly as he had appeared.
Lambo wavered between the bowl of fresh grapes and following that tempting tongue. Lambo picked up the grapes and ran after Reborn. Would he get punished for not cleaning his hands?
He could only hope so.