He didn't have to know that the whole time he pretended her lips were his.
But then again, he'll never know that it had happened.
He would never have to know that her wanton moans and cries did nothing for him. The half-false noises only made him wish for the growled admissions and hissed moans he loved so much.
He would never have to know that her skin wasn't pale enough, her eyes not dark enough—it wasn't right—but at the time it didn't feel so wrong. Her body fit against his the soft way only a woman's could. But it was all like that, something he remembered so clearly in the back of his mind, but was still so foreign. Soft but quick, complete but…missing something. He could only think of her as a porcelain doll, like he had all the other women he had had before…before him. None of the rough, or the fight, or the push and pull of desire that he had grown used to.
He left after with no marks, just as he had when he arrived.
He'd never let him know that he was driven to the outskirts of madness by the insanity of this…their…relationship? Their involvement? What's the right term for something in which his little concessions could complete you one moment, but a few cold words could shatter you into pieces the next?
His body all but screamed for her at the restaurant. She was a friend, an old acquaintance. Someone he hadn't seen for years but indulged in her request for a meeting. They had been something more for a brief moment, in a past he struggles to truly remember.
Her light smile reminded him of something he wished he had. The soft laughter from pink lips captivated him, if only because he couldn't imagine his own lover's lips curled into such a show of active affection. She weaved her words so perfectly, her intentions clear enough to be seen, but not overt enough to be blatant. She was chasing him. How long had it been since he'd been chased?
The invitation for a coffee after dinner would have seemed innocent enough, if the twinkle in her eyes had been better hidden. Moments after entering the apartment she had kissed him, all soft lips and gentle curves of skin. His body reacted—mind filled with an ounce of her and the rest of a man he hadn't touched in weeks. Dark eyes were replaced with light, hard angles with soft, feminine curves—but at the moment, a warm body was what he needed, someone who would give and from whom he could easily take. His body had wanted it. Had craved it.
Now…he couldn't be so sure.
His thoughts hadn't strayed to the guilt of betrayal yet. Oddly enough, all he could think of was a twisted form of damage control, walking the cold streets as the sun broke over the horizon. As the wind picked up, displacing golden locks, his mind flitted over everything, a near frantic search for some reason, some answer. Only then did a nagging voice flow through his thoughts.
Would he even care?
His thoughts ground to a halt. What if…
What if he really didn't? He could walk home, go to sleep, and this could all be over. Was that what he had become, after doing something like this? Like a man he once despised, shielding his love's eyes to the betrayal unfolding behind her back?
If his luck were with him, Kyouya would still be gone, off on another excursion to the corners of the earth, sharp eyes ever focused on the answers he searched for. The thought of coming home to the man frightened him in a way that was more powerful than a knife to his throat. For the first time in years, Dino Cavallone felt like running away. But he was grown now, albeit with the face of a man five years his junior, and he knew it wasn't an answer. Isn't that what he'd always told Tsuna? Don't run from your battles. Face your fear—and your opponent—head on.
The walk home was far too quick for his liking, the click of the lock sounding hollow and dark as he turned the key. He pushed the door open slowly, cautiously. As he looked down, his first fear had come true. Sitting by the door was a pair of black dress shoes, impeccably polished. Dino half froze, swallowing. Taking a slow breath, he closed the door gently behind him, toeing off his shoes next to the smaller pair, hand resting heavily on the wall to keep him from tripping. His coordination had improved exponentially in the past few years, but smoothly taking off clothes had always been the bane of his existence.
He kept his footsteps quiet, mere padding on the floorboards, as he inched his way into the front room. A pair of feet could be seen at the edge of the sofa, a soft half-snore echoing into the room. Dino almost smiled—Kyouya never slept on the bed, only venturing near the bedroom when Dino was home. And those trips were usually taken when their lips were caught together, tongues tangling, bodies hot and begging for each other.
His feet moved before his mind could stop them, stopping as he stood next to the young man. He watched his chest rise and fall for a moment, head tilted lightly. Kyouya's face then contorted painfully, a sharp intake of breath interrupting the soothing pattern. Dino nearly jumped out of his skin. Reaching forward, he barely touched a strand of raven hair, and the expression slowly softened, breathing going back to normal. Affection swelled in his heart for this beautiful lover of his. But the bottom dropped out.
The guilt hit him like a brick wall. Memories flooded back to him, the sound of her moaning his name into his ear. Dino took a startled step backwards, outstretched hand frozen in the air. His calf hit the coffee table behind him, rattling a stack of neatly placed used silverware, sloshing a bit of water from a half finished glass. His body stopped, holding the position with a startled expression, his actions truly catching up with him. He'd betrayed him. Six years had passed since he first kissed him, four since he'd last even touched anyone else, three since he finally allowed himself to take the boy on his first night of legality. He'd ruined everything, hadn't he?
"Noisy." A dark, sleep heavy voice interrupted his troubled thoughts, rattling him into awareness. Dino attempted a chuckle, but the sound got caught in his throat. Kyouya sat up on the couch; dark eyes half lidded, suit still impeccable. The only time he it was ever out of place was in the heat of battle or at Dino's hands. He looked up at the blonde with a half annoyed expression, swinging his legs carefully over the side of the couch.
"Aah…sorry. Didn't mean to…wake you." Dino's voice sounded foreign to him, accent standing out as his nerves built up, voice catching slightly. Kyouya stood warily, brow slightly arched. He made a quiet noise of dismissal, raising his hand to cover a light yawn.
"You were supposed to be away." The tone was uninterested, but it held only a sliver of surprise, and a dash of embarassment. After this many years, Dino had begun to pick up the nuances of Hibari Kyouya's speech. He didn't have to stop in Italy on his way home—Tsuna was in Japan, and Italy was a bit out of his way for a return home. A stab of guilt pierced Dino—he'd indulged himself, coming to stay here when he was sure the owner wouldn't be home. In any other situation, Dino would have smiled knowingly, pulling Kyouya deftly into his arms, happy to have caught him. Now he could only feel shame and remorse.
"Mn." Dino paused, lifting a hand to scratch at his neck. "I'm not. Just…late home…?" He hated his sudden inability to think. He had always been so good with words, but now they all failed him. Kyouya's brow quirked slightly higher. Suddenly, the expression dropped, head tilted a fraction of an inch to the left, nose wrinkled slightly. He had picked up on something. Dino's hand dropped, attempting a normal façade, while inside he was screaming, pleading, crying out for this to not happen, to never have to happen. The next words would tear his world apart.
"Her perfume…it's strong." Kyouya's eyes were like those of a hawk, deftly flicking over his neck for marks. Dino froze, trapped between a lie and the truth, amber eyes caught between looking at his lover and the floor. He knew he couldn't lie, not to Kyouya, someone so quick. The pieces had already fallen together in his mind. Nothing could ever be kept hidden from Kyouya. He was a fool to even fathom otherwise.
"Kyouya…" He began, voice barely a whisper, "I…" Dark eyes flicked up to his, hard and cold—suddenly he was looking into the eyes of a young boy who utterly despised him, a boy who's shell he'd taken years to chip away at, and still had layers and layers left to go. He nearly shivered from the chilled glance, stopped mid sentence. Kyouya shook his head slightly, a light glint of disappointed, bitter amusement in his eyes. Even he didn't expect it.
Dino reached up a hand, touching his suit-clad shoulder with a tenderness that could not be forged. Kyouya's eyes flicked down to the offending appendage—the look itself felt like it burned Dino's skin. He removed the hand quickly, eyes swiftly averting to the floor. He felt like a child again, being scolded by his mother, but this time it felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest.
Suddenly a hand was at his throat, thumb pressed firmly to his windpipe. A garbled noise escaped his lips, a feeble attempt for air. He looked down his nose, an odd angle, only to find Kyouya's eyes hidden behind his hair. The hand tightened. His head began to feel light, his hands half raising. He didn't try to pull him off—Kyouya had every right. Every right. He could feel his lips getting cold, the corners of his vision blurring. He very well might die tonight—die for his sin against this vengeful man. Soft prayers filled into his head, old words from mass with his mother—though he couldn't keep his eyes off his attacker. He couldn't keep the guilt from his eyes, the acceptance of whatever punishment the smaller man saw fit.
Just when he was sure he was going to pass out, he was unceremoniously let go, crumpling to the floor in a heap. Gasping for breath, he watched Kyouya's feet move in firm, deliberate steps toward the door. He weakly attempted to reach up a hand, a rasped noise caught in his throat. Feet slipped into shiny black shoes, coat pulled from a hook slipped over shoulders. The door clicked open, and he could hear the fabric of his coat brush against the doorframe.
The slam of a door had never sounded so final.
They had fought before, so many times before. But this wasn't the same. This couldn't be compared. This wasn't one of their common 'I'm sorry for kissing you in public' fight, or their 'I didn't mean to say "I love you", and no, I didn't mean to say it in front of the other Vongola, I was only trying to say goodnight' fight. This fight was irreversible. He had felt the murderous rage through Kyouya's fingers. A minute later, and the life would have been smothered from him.
Their tie had started in an uncouth way. His lust for him had started with a hint of shame and guilt, feeling such a desire for a boy so much his junior. Their physical relationship had no clear beginning. It had no clear boundaries, only the lines that Dino clumsily danced around, even after all of these years.
His heart fell in his chest, eyes dropping closed. It had no clear beginning, but this was clearly their end.
And as he slept, body pained by the cold floor, throat bruising, he was tortured by dreams of a raven haired man he would never be able to escape, even if he wanted to.
And so began his life haunted by the skylark of Namimori, the Vongola Cloud guardian—his former lover.