Leather

The room was quiet. Except for the occasional ruffling of paper, scribbling pen and the lightly cracking firewood the closed area was dead silent. If the delicate, but deadly, hand of the tenth generation Vongola boss had been still they could almost have been mistaken for wax dolls which sat and simply waited for time to pass by. The furious writing was only paused when he changed papers, and took his time to read through the content before signing or putting it aside.

His brown eyes were tired from the many hours of non-stop work. The hour hand on the clock sitting on his table was drawing close to midnight, meaning he had sat there for about 16 hours, only stopping to practice basic human necessities and a few phone calls. He pulled his fingers through the unruly brown locks on his head, letting out a heavy sigh as he read through a request for a meeting two weeks from now. This kind of work, which he had saved for last, would have gone so much faster if his self-proclaimed right hand man was with him. Because no matter how hot headed the man could be, he was a valuable asset when a date needed to be remembered and processed.

But his bomb-fanatic of a friend was not here, and the mere thought made him stroke through his hair once more. His leg had started bouncing hours ago in unsettlement. He didn't want to be here wasting ink, he wanted to make sure his friends were alright. His eyes shifted up to the two people sitting opposite of each other on the twin sofa's in front of his desk. They were quietly reading thick fantasy books, and it fitted them oddly well to do so. He sighed, wishing that he could send them off to bed, but in these times he had to have at least one guard present at all times (a few had even insisted on accompanying him in the bathroom).

He threw his body backwards, groaning softly as he twirled the chair around to stare out into the darkness outside the double bullet slash flame proof glass protecting his office from any intruding object or power. (But really, with two of the worlds most powerful illusionists at his side, were they even necessary?) He knew he had gotten an interested glance at his antics as he rubbed his eyes, trying to rid of his sleepiness.

"Boss, would you like to have some coffee?" the small voice of his only female guardian—although she wasn't officially his sentinel he still considered her as such—reached his ears, and even though it was almost as quiet as the sparks in the fire he jumped. He hadn't heard another human voice since this evening when a maid collected the dishes from his dinner, and he hadn't heard the timid female's soft tone since she entered his bedroom at 8 am.

"I think I'll have some red tea. Strong, with sugar," he grimaced at the mention of sweetening the tea, a habit he had outgrown since his fist year in Italy, but knew he needed some quick energy to make it through the last stack of papers and then being able to go to sleep afterwards. He stretched, feeling that pleasant rush of endorphins rushing though his body like half an orgasm—seriously, why does it feel so god damned good?—and turned to look at his guardians again.

The woman stood, straightening her skirt and jacket, "any special brand?"

"Anything is fine," he wasn't picky when it came to the fine collection of expensive, high quality collection of tea the Vongola possessed, "thank you, Chrome."

Even after all these years she still blushed when he spoke to her, and she bowed her head in respect before walking out the door to head for the kitchen, leaving the two males alone. But just as the door closed a yelp was heard and it was thrown open again by a panting silver haired man.

"Juudaime, we have returned," he spoke briskly, bowing in respect before proceeding to walk up to the desk, giving a viperous glare to the man still sitting calmly on the leather sofa, reading his book. Gokudera was walking with his hand tucked neatly behind his back, obviously hiding an injury. His tall body showed no other sign of discomfort, except his tense expression, surely suppressing both pain and worry.

"Welcome back Gokudera-kun," Tsuna smiled, relief evident on his face. He put away the papers, ready to hear what the other had to report, "how'd it go?"

"The mission proceeded without much complication. We were able to blow the weapon dealers claiming to be working under the Vongola," the frown on the man's face deepened, "they were all exterminated."

The tenth generation boss' face fell. The word 'exterminated' meant nothing else than that all targets had been killed. Even as the most powerful mafia commander in the world he never got used to the thought of ordering to kill, no matter who the person might be. All those men and women which his subordinates had whipped out tonight might just as well had been parents, siblings and most definitely someone's child. Maybe they all have a lover who is faithfully waiting for them to come back home, only to receive a notice the next day that their beloved was no longer in this world.

At the thought, chocolate eyes shifted vaguely to the man nonchalantly keeping his eyes to the book he had spread in front of his face. Oh how many times the brunette had thought he himself was one of those miserable souls waiting for their beloved to come home.

"No civil involvement?"

At that, the formerly hot-headed man stiffened. His green eyes closed as he carefully constructed his words in his head, making Tsuna's heart sink.

"They took hostages… We tried to stop them but—

A hand went into the air, Tsuna frowning deeply. A saddened downturn of his mouth and watering in his eyes witnessed of the pain he felt. He abhorred it when the civil became dragged into the mafia world, and he always wanted his comrades to try to avoid any involvement. It's just too bad that other's didn't go by this rule. Eerie eyes watched him quietly as he mentally beat himself up for the unfortunate events. He sat for a good five minutes, weltering in the anger and despair he felt for the entanglement of others.

"Were they…children?" his quivering voice asked.

"Two adults and their daughter…"

Tsuna could have yelled in frustration, but instead he slammed his fist down into the table, expressing his rage, "damn it all to hell."

The door received a knock, making the brunette jump in his seat, then opened, and a purple eye nervously peeked in. "Chrome…" a shaky breath left his mouth as he waved for her to come closer. She was holding a small wooden tray with a steaming cup sitting on top of it with a few carefully chosen cookies. He smiled as she set the tray down in front of him, blushing all the while. "Thank you," he smiled affectionately at her, "you can retrieve for the night if you'd like. You've worked hard."

"N-not at all boss…" she fidgeted with the hem of her jacket, pulling at the stretch tightening around her waist, "t-then I'll excuse myself." She nodded her head in a bow without looking up and quickly headed for the door. She stopped just as she was about to reach for the handle and turned, "good night boss and Mukuro-sama…"

"Good night Chrome," Mukuro said, his gaze wavering from the black and white pages in front of him to give her that brotherly smile he always did. It was the first time he had spoken since he had entered the room and replaced Rodriguez as the night watch nearly four hours ago.

"Good night Chrome," she nodded, blushed and closed the door behind herself as she left. The three males still in the room turned their attention to what they had been concentrated at before her entrance.

"A…any hurt on our side?" with a sigh the young boss drove a hand through his hair, feeling it's unsteady path against his scalp and frowning at it. Then he gripped the hot teacup, bringing it up to his lips in hope of getting some relief as the oozing liquid flowed down his throat. The sweetness laid thick on his tongue.

"The baseball idi—" Gokudera stopped at the disapproving look he got, "Y-yamamoto got a bullet in his right leg, but it was shallow so he can continue duty by the day after tomorrow. Sasagawa got a minor injury to his head when he slipped on an ice patch when we were about to leave… Hibari's left arm was hit by a few splinters from a blown up strongbox, he'll have to rest for a week at least with his arm in bandages."

Tsuna's lip twitched at the clumsiness of his once-crush's big brother's stupidity (though he was also pleasantly surprised the man hadn't received any more injuries). Then he thought about the worried phone call which was sure to come in the morning once Dino Cavallone had gotten word of that his student-turned-lover had been 'mortally wounded' (the blonde always had a knick for exaggerating whenever it came to his cute object of affection). "And you, Gokudera-kun?" he shifted his gaze to the arm obviously hiding something from him.

"J-just a minor scratch…" the man blushed in humiliation and mumbled under his breath; "from when the baseball idiot squashed my hand in the car door…"

No comment was made, but amusement flickered in both the other's eyes, "what about the rest of the team? I remember sending a few gunmen along with you, didn't I?"

At the mention of the subordinates Gokudera stiffened visibly. "Ah… They were all sent to the hospital for minor injuries but…Pilar, she received a bullet to her stomach," the boss' face paled to a shade of white one could have thought he was dead, "she died from the gastric acid before we had the chance to get her attendance."

Tsuna sat and stared in bewilderment, then slumped back into his seat, staring emptily straight ahead. His hand pulled at a brown sling of hair in order to distract himself, but it didn't have any effect. He remembered the smile she had given him just a day or two ago, how she talked about her wedding with the mansion's gardener and how it had been one of the happiest days of her life. She praised him on how he was such a good boss, so considerate and gentle.

"I hope my child grow up to become a man like you, boss."

She was a mother to a two year old kid. She was someone's wife. She was a dear friend of his which always made him delicious macaroni whenever she was to guard him. She was a woman in her early twenties who had barely started her life.

And he had taken it away from her.

He would have broken down and cried, had his fuzzing right hand man not been standing in front of him. He didn't need someone to be all over him when he's sad, and to be honest, Gokudera was the worst of his guardian's to have around (alright, maybe Hibari was slightly worse) when a mental breakdown was near, which it currently was. He folded his hands and leaned his forehead on them, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

"Juudaime…" the silver haired man was now standing next to him, reaching out a hand to place on his shoulder, but he shrugged it away.

"Thank you, Gokudera-kun," a strained smile was plastered on his face, "you can also retrieve for the night."

"B-but Juudaime…" the worried frown on the overly protective man's brow was disturbed.

"Dogs do best in obeying their master," Mukuro chuckled from the other side of the room.

"What was that?" the half Italian hissed, lashing out a handful of dynamite due to pure habit.

"Vongola is tired, and he wants to go to bed, but he won't unless you have," just like a master doting on it's pet, the brunette could have sworn he heard the man mumbling, but decided to ignore it.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Juudaime, I didn't realize!" Gokudera put away his explosives, hair flipping wildly as he bowed down in an apology and saluted, "I will then proceed to head off to bed and get myself rested up for my duties in the morning!"

"Do so, Gokudera-kun," smile still strained, Tsuna couldn't help but to feel glad at his friends eagerness to please.

"Well then, good night Juudaime," green eyes shifted, voice dripping with venom as he spoke, "Mukuro."

"Good night," the boss mumbled as he watched the man take a few long strides to the door before exiting. As soon as the handle bounced up a heavy sigh of sadness echoed through the room as he stood, starting to pace back and forth in stress. Agony and self-pity mirrored in his vibrant orbs, and it didn't fit his handsome complexion. He tried to take the cup of tea off his desk, but found his hands to be so shaky he could barely hold it without spilling the content. He clicked his tongue in frustration before walking to the windows to stare out at the darkness.

He was willing himself to hold the tears back, but knew it was pointless once he accidentally released a sob. Once the first was out the second was soon to follow, and he had to wipe the tears with his sleeve to not appear all too pathetic. He hunched his shoulders and seemed to be shrinking with every sad sob which left him, and he hunched down, gripping and pulling on his brown bangs. He continued to press his cuffs to his cheeks, letting them absorb the salty liquid flowing form his eyes. His body was shaking from the deep breaths and sorrowful mewls he let out, and he tensed his muscles to try and regain control of his limbs.

Suddenly a light weight was on his shoulders, and he snapped his head to see a blanket draped around his vibrating form. His gaze stared at the high quality wool fabric, then travelled up to stare into emotionless, heterochromatic orbs. Mukuro said nothing, he simply observed quietly, making no more move to show sympathy or anything like it. The cold, uncanny leer was enough to make him wince. The dark haired man is a selfish, energetic individual who could do anything to anyone. Emotional comfort had never been the illusionist's forte, but he would always sit with whomever wanted to complain and burst their hearts out, surely to use as blackmail if the situation ever called for it.

But there was something else the Italian did very well for his boss, despite their former disagreement between each other in their teenage years. There was that thing which always stayed between the two of them, and they'd silently sworn that the secret would remain very much secret.

Tsuna stood on shaky legs, gently grasping the blanket around him, tilting his face to look at the other male. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, chocolate brown drowning in deep blue and flaming red. Tears still rolled down his face when he took a step forward, almost touching. His hand slowly left its place by his side and gently settled on a pale, cold cheek. No words, only looks, where exchanged between them for the longest time, before long eyelashes lowered.

"Mukuro," the young brunette whispered as he leaned forward, pressing himself against the taller man, "comfort me."

Half lidded eyes closed, almost as if he was in deep thought, but the light flickering of lashes told otherwise. The only sound which could be heard over their breathing was the cracking fireplace, but even that was surely dying. The silence was long, and Tsuna sighed in apprehension, ready to pull away and retire to his quarters for the night, knowing he would be unable to finish the invitations now anyway. No hand shot out to stop him as he backed away, but that would only have been strange. There was no mutual bond between them, each of them having their own definition of their connection.

It wasn't Mukuro who hurt when he walked away.

Out of duty though, the tall man followed him once he set hand upon the door which joint his personal quarters with his office. He used the blanket to absorb the dampness from his cheeks as he proceeded to enter his bedroom, kicking his shoes off. He wasn't sobbing anymore, but the sighs which left his lips were heavy with agony. He shrugged his pants off after undoing his belt, not caring to remove the shirt or tie around his neck as he fell down on his bed, curling up under the thin blanket he still had wrapped around his shoulders. His body sunk into the soft duvet laying neatly upon his bed, and he nuzzled the high quality fabric.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on finding sleep, but all fatigue seemed to have abandoned him, or at least it yielded for the pain throbbing in his chest. Why was life so unfair? Why must people die well before their time? Why must people be taken away from those they treasure? He had pondered on these questions so many times he could impossibly count them all. Every time he sent his subordinates out on missions he greatly hoped they'd return safely, but far too many times they did not. He hoped every day he woke up that he wouldn't have to send them off to do such dangerous things, to hurt others. He could only imagine Xanxus' disapproving glare if he knew that he was thinking.

A gloved hand pulled on his shoulder, and he had to turn over on his back to see his mist guardian standing over him, red eye glowing in the barely lit room. The only small collection of burning candles standing by the far wall illuminated the Italian's pale skin with an almost ghostly glow, and his midnight blue hair spilled over his shoulder in glamorous strings of silk. The cold leather of gloves chilled the brunettes skin when they worked to undo the expensive shirt he was wearing. He shuddered pleasantly when those long fingers grazed over his stomach, making the muscles beneath them tense in anticipation.

A hearty moan escaped the young boss when the cloth was tugged from his shoulders, and he felt no shame in doing so, the other knew what he wanted since before they entered the room. Mis-matched eyes slowly slid up his body, and he couldn't help but to feel as if his skin was caressed by that intense leer, before meeting warm brown. Their movements stopped as they stared into each others eyes, no message in particular being exchanged. They stayed like that for a long time, before a begging hand touched the older male's cheek once again.

"Mukuro," the name was barely a whisper, "please."

They both knew he could just order whatever he wanted, but he didn't want it to be a duty, because the touches are distant enough as it is already.

Their silent staring contest continued for a minute or so, before the mattress dipped to the side when the still fully clothed man set his knee on it. his expression was hard and empty, and Tsuna couldn't make out if the other was disgusted, angry or just didn't care about what they were about to do. Secretly, he'd like to think that the cold mask was simply to hide excitement and happiness, although that's probably as far away from the truth as he could get.

Immediately when the icy, clothed hand was on his skin again he gasped, the difference in temperature giving him goose bumps, making him sensitive to every sensation. He laid like a quiescent doll as the tip of those dangerous fingers trailed down his neck and caressing his collarbone on their way downwards, closing his eyes to bask in the responses they caused. He hadn't even realized his nipples were hard until one of them was brushed by the leather glove, and he mewled as he shivered, arching ever so slightly against the sinful digits.

Another hand joined the other on their quest down his body, caressing his sides, making him shake deliciously. As the large palms settle on his hips he grind his body against the mattress under himself, arms pressing against the soft surface. He bit into his bottom lip, willing himself to not whimper when the touch slide further down his legs, ignoring the by now painfully tight underwear covering his lower regions.

He dared to open his eyes as his right ankle was grabbed and lifted off the bed, resting in the hand of his guardian. Curiously he watch as the man lift the foot up before kissing the top of it, eyes closed and expression sincere. The brunette stare in shock at the gesture, one which manifests a vow of servitude towards a master. His chest clenched painfully, he didn't want the man to be his servant, he wanted him to be his equal and soul mate, even of the latter was barely plausible.

"Muku—

A finger across thin lips silenced him, and he stared in bewilderment as a flurry of kisses was scattered across his foot and ankle, making his toes curl against his will. He melted into the fleeting touches, laying down again to appreciate the sensual attention he was given. The now warm gloves skimmed across his skin, traveling down to the apex of his thighs before going back down again. Once the pale lips reached his knee he was ready to beg for more, but he didn't, instead he used his other leg to stroke against the man caressing him. The movement could have as well been pleading itself, because heterochromatic lit up with awareness and amusement. Blushing, Tsuna huffed and closed his eyes, but they immediately snapped open again when a strained moan sounded from his throat. A teasing finger had ran down his still restrained erection, and he growled at the mischievous man smirking ever so slightly.

His leg was let down, and finally—finally—his under wear was tugged at. He whimpered in pleasure when the offending piece of clothing was removed, and relaxed for a moment before he felt cold air blow across the sensitive skin. He gasped in ecstasy mixed with pain, looking down to see a hand reaching for his hard cock. He moaned loudly when the rough material of the mist guardian's glove rubbed against him as long fingers wrapped around his member. He brought his own hand up to his mouth and bit it to try and lower the noises coming from himself when the hand around him started moving. He barely noticed that his legs were nudged apart until he felt cold leather rubbing against his inner thighs.

Mukuro positioned himself between his boss' legs, holding a bottle of lube in the hand which wasn't working on pleasuring his superior. He undid the cap and with little difficulty coated his gloved fingers with the slick substance before lowering them to the round cheeks of the brunette's ass. He enjoyed hearing the raspy moans below, but the surprised gasp and delicious widening of rosy lips when he inserted a wet finger into the tight entrance was if possible even more delectable. Unconsciously, he squirmed his hips to feel his pants rubbing at his own erection, letting out a heavy breath as he started pumping his finger.

He watched as the smaller male arched his back, pert nipples contrasting against the much paler skin around them. His eyes took in the way the other wiggled beneath him, trying to take his digit deeper before he added another, earning a surprised breath of approval. The sweat was glistening on the Japanese man's body, small droplets forming on his torso and forehead, rolling down to leave behind a moist trail.

The way the moans were getting louder and louder he knew his boss was growing close to a euphoric orgasm, but he wouldn't let him reach it just yet. He removed his hand, earning loud protests.

Tsuna glowered at the man above him in frustration, trying to calm his breathing to signal just how upset he was with the lack of semen spread across his stomach. His attempt to do so failed however, because he was not getting any response other than an evil smirk, and he simply couldn't ignore the electric shots of pleasure spiking up his spine as his ass was still stretched by a trio of digits. The uncomfortable tension in his stomach didn't subside, it simply stayed at that painful verge between emptiness and fulfilment.

His hands reached down to finish the job himself—because dammit he couldn't be left like this!—but both wrists being grabbed and placed above his head. He whimpered in misery. He saw the kanji in the illusionist's eye blur out before a new one appeared. One, the first path.

When the grip around his wrists was released he still couldn't' t move them properly, and he glanced up, seeing a silky ribbon tied around them, holding them together. It was an illusion, but he couldn't find the strength to reject it. A shiver ran down his body as hot breath fanned his ear before a harsh bite stung his earlobe, warning him not to try again. He chewed on his own lip in frustration before whimpering as the fingers inside him slid out, and he protested by mewling. That, of course was before he was lifted up, and settled upon the other males lap. His brow furrowed in confusion before he felt the hardon rubbing against his own.

Apprehension lit in his chocolate orbs before he fiddled to get up on his knees, straddling the blue haired man patiently waiting for him to adjust. He leaned against the broad, still clothed, chest in front of him, gently lowering himself, searching for the member he had been waiting for with fever, feeling it rub against his ass before his hips were grabbed to guide him to the erection. He moaned even before the head was probing his entrance, getting louder as he started pressing down, feeling himself stretch despite his tense muscles. The roughness felt good, so incredibly good he was surprised he didn't come from the delightful sensation. He let out a final, long moan as he took all of the other man in, sitting still to adjust for a brief moment.

His breath was quick, and it got uneven as well when he arched his back to move his hips, rocking down to try and take more into his snug warmth. The man beneath him made no move nor noise, only the slight quickening of his inhaling witnessing of his pleasure. Tsuna himself moaned loudly with every movement he made, the friction being coarse as he rolled his hips to pleasure them both. He tried to lift himself higher, but found it hard with no leverage to steady himself, so he lift his arms to put the around the mist guardian's neck. Finally he could raise himself properly and he used the option quickly, going so high he almost slid off the other, but just as he was about to he slammed himself down, almost screaming from the pleasure coursing his body.

He didn't even register the surprised gasp slipping past pale lips at his actions as he continued. At first he was going slow, savouring the feeling of being filled, until he found a quicker pace, bouncing up and down on top of the older man. The sound of his buttock slapping against leather trousers was drowned out by the loud moans which both were contributing. Tsuna threw his head backwards as he continued to slam himself down, trying to find that special spot, but didn't manage to, whining to the other. He leaned forward, licking the exposed skin on the former convict's neck before biting down and sucking. An irritated growl vibrated against his lips, however smiling when he wasn't stopped, making sure that a bruise would form. A reminder to them both for the next few days.

He yelped in surprise when he was suddenly pulled down, finding himself sprawled out over his temporary lover's torso. His hips had stilled when he looked up in confusion.

"Move," a breathy command touched his eardrums, making the hair on his body stand on their ends. With the pleasant feeling still intact he sat up again, keeping himself steady against the muscular legs bent up behind him. He rolled his head to the side as he started grinding down, closing his eyes as the pleasurable sensation enveloped him. He felt leather gloves setting on his hips as he continued creating friction, squeezing them whenever he'd lower himself fully.

Growing tired of the antagonizing slow movements, Mukuro snapped his pelvic up to surprise the brunette moaning above him. A shocked gasp fleeted past moist lips before Tsuna hummed approvingly, urging on a continuation. He got nothing, so he decided to take matters into his own hands and raised himself as high as possible before slamming down, groaning loudly. He continued doing those hard, uneven thrusts until he got the other to met his bouncing, a slight smile appearing on his sweaty face. He picked up the pace further, bobbing up and down with astonishing swiftness.

His body was starting to over-heat, and he allowed himself to fall forward, leaning on shaky arms as he felt his stomach tighten. His moaning was turning into hoarse and pitched breaths as he ground furiously against the man beneath him. his brown bangs clung to his face, and his brown eyes searched for something to stick to, but he failed miserably and just closed them. One of his hands trailed down his own body, finding his needy erection as he continued to move his hips.

At his actions the Italian's eyes snapped open, watching in concentration as he pleasured himself. The speed of their love-making intensified, their moans drowning each other out as they approached release. The brunette's skin was slick against the other's, and the leather rubbed his legs to an irritated red, but he didn't falter in his movements. His entire body was quivering in anticipation, it wasn't far now.

"Muku—eek!"

His pleading was cut short when the dark haired man suddenly reversed their positions again, groaning deeply as the hips thrust so hard they were making a permanent dip in the mattress. Not that Tsuna was complaining, he yielded to the almost abusive pounding, still satisfying himself with both hands. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he hooked his legs around the man above him. he was aching like crazy, writhing in a mix of pleasure and pain, throwing his head back and forth.

The euphoria came in a hot wave as he cried out his satisfaction, white flashed before his vision went black. His head felt light, and he couldn't register anything else but the sensitivity of his ass spiking the pleasure up again and again as his mist guardian looked for his own release. His arms fell to his sides as he tried his best to continue meeting the eager thrusts, but his body was loosing strength as he came down from his high. One last push, and the almost painful tightening of his entire pelvic was finally enough. He sighed in contempt when he felt the other stiffen, groan and the warmth filling him inside.

He was still panting heavily when he expected the other to fall down on top of him, but no weight came, only the unpleasant feeling of the other withdrawing from him, pulling out and sitting back, observing his boss through lowered lashes. After a moment he moved, fixing his pants around his hips and moving to get off the bed.

"Mukuro—

"you should go to sleep now," the tone was final, deadpan.

"Will you stay?" Tsuna fought to crawl after him, but due to his sore middle he found it to be a challenge.

"I'm on guard duty until morning," the illusionist said, reaching for his boots.

Finally, after some struggle, the younger of the two set his hands on the fully clothed back, "that's not what I meant."

Neither moved, silence laying around them like a heavy mist. The small candles were dying in the corner, slowly but surely letting the darkness creep in, along with the young boss' exhaustion. He was so very tired, but was afraid to sleep alone. He didn't want those awful thoughts to come back. His arms encircled the other man, pressing his damp cheek to his neck.

"Stay with me, please."

Emotionless, empty eyes turned to him, and he prepared for rejection when a small, almost inexistent light of…something flashed before it was gone. A sigh left pale lips. Without a word the taller male unlinked the arms around him before pushing the other down, searching for the edge of the duvet in the darkness.

With sadness brimming in his eyes Tsuna accepted the chilly covers as he laid down, all the while watching his object of affection hustle about to turn down the lights and make sure he's comfortable. Lamenting in the rejection he turned over, pulling the bedspread up to his chin and curled up. The feelings of disaster came back to him ever so slowly as the room fell quiet, and he tried to keep them out, to bring back the wonderful experience of uniting with the powerful man he held so much tenderness for, but even that was slipping away. He needed comfort. The comfort of not being alone.

Just when he thought he was breaking out into tears again he felt the mattress dip over, and through the darkness he could barely make out the silhouette of the long haired man who was sitting by his side. Shock would have been visible on his face of it hadn't been for the lack of illumination, and he was about to say something, but lost his words once he drew the breath to speak them.

After a few moments a gentle smile spread on his lips, and he laid down again, closing his eyes. The regret wasn't gone, but he wasn't alone. Somnolence crept in on him, soon taking over him, plunging him into a deep, dreamless sleep. When light snoozes was heard from him a careful, warm hand set on his brown locks, stroking them.

"Goodnight, Tsunayoshi-kun."

A/N:

This was so hard to write. The only idea I built it on was Chrome and Mukuro sitting in Tsuna's office, guarding him. But I wanted try writing angst. I need to find something I'm good at writing soon. It has been half done for 3 weeks now, but I lost motivation just before the climax of the lemon. My gosh, poor Mukuro and Tsuna, being left hanging like that!

Hope you enjoyed!