Yeap. So, I made a fic for my senpai between Byakuran and her OC, His name's Evan. Here he is, she drew him:
Cute, ain't he? Here's the official summary thingy and the title I just made... It has M-rated stuff in it so...
*gets slapped*
Oh, and I made all this in my phone, with no italic font and whatnot, so I used brackets, and I'm too lazy to edit it, so yeah.
Of Marshmallows and Skateboard
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairing: Byakuran x Male OC (Evan)
Genre: Humor, Romance, Hurt, Comfort, Crime
Rating: M to MA (I think...)
Warning: language, sex (mutual masturbation), gore, blood, usual Byakuran creepiness.
Of Marshmallows and Skateboards
Chocolate, check. Bread, check. Milk, check. Cereal, check. Eggs, check...
What was the other one?
Evan huffed, eyes roaming around the supermarket aisles, trying to remember the last item he had to buy for the week. His gaze landed onto a large packet of soft, white confections.
Oh, right. Marshmallows. He grabbed a few of the large packets from his roommate's favorite brand, completely sure that they would be gone even before three days.
After paying for his purchases, he took his skateboard back to his university dorm in a leisurely pace.
It has been half a semester since he had applied himself in this university. He was accepted, thankfully, but the number of freshmen this year was uneven. With him left out, he was given a room together with Byakuran Gesso, a foreign Italian-born-yet-raised-in-Japan student in the third year of his engineering major, his senior, if you will. He was a decent guy, if not a bit too cheerful and kinda creepy sometimes ("Call me Byakuran-senpai, okay Evan-kun!" Cue attracti-wait, no--blinding cheerful smile."No. Go away, you creep."). Strangely enough, with his eccentric personality, he was really charismatic. People seemed to gravitate around him.
Including himself. For the past three months since they became roommates, he could positively say that they are good friends. However, sometimes his roommate's charisma causes more annoyance than it's worth. Especially when his fangirls came into the fray.
He squished the persistent voice in his head that insisted that he was feeling jealous.
His stark white hair and the strange purple tattoo on his cheek sometimes attracted rumors and unwanted attention, but he only seemed to be amused by it.
Most times, the unwanted attention were caused by his fangirls. Evan had to admit that the white-haired young man is considered--he colored slightly-- physically attractive, but really? Watching random girls skulking around their dorm and slipping dozens of love letters from under the door is too much. He cringed when he remembered a few of the more extreme ones who flung their undergarments at him as he was going out of their dorm room because they thought he was Byakuran.
Infuriatingly enough, he humored some of those idiotic girls, giving them mock kiss-byes and making them swoon! Why he would actually cater to their demands was beyond him!
His receding blush returned back in full-force when the voice in his head reared itself. Again, he ignored it.
(He'd stay in denial as long as he has to.)
xxxxx
"I'm back! I got your freaking marshmallows!" He called out, waving the plastic bags in his hands. He placed his skateboard next to the shoe rack, striding barefoot into their shared room. Well, it was more of an apartment than a simple room. It was equipped with a small kitchen, a bathroom, a small space for a living room--which was just made up by a sofa and a television set--and two bedrooms, completely furnished. It was quite a quaint place, and he was happy with it.
"Welcome back, Evan! Bring them over here!" His roommate's voice called out from the other room. Muttering an insult on his roommate's laziness under his breath, he headed towards the source of the voice.
The sight he was greeted with made his face explode with heat and rooted him on the spot at the same time. But he just couldn't bring himself to look away. Every train of thoughts screeched into a halt in favor of branding this image to his head.
Hot damn.
A well-defined chest, unobstructed by nothing except a pair of fluffy white towel. Broad shoulders, yet not too overly muscular. Droplets of water clung onto unblemished pale skin in a tantalizing display.
He swallowed. His throat suddenly felt dry.
"See anything you like?" Came a low purr that snapped him back into reality. Violet eyes watched him playfully in undisguised amusement.
Without any reservations, Evan flung one of the plastic bags which collided with his roommate's smug face with a crisp crack of broken eggshells, storming out of the room with a face that resembled a tomato.
That night, when he had to go back to the market for another package of eggs, whatever happened was totally not his fault.
He didn't regret a thing.
xxxxx
Their dynamics changed after that incident.
For the next few weeks, Byakuran became bolder in showing his...advances towards him. Flirts and innuendos were flaunted his way with a casual ease, usually resulting to innocent trinkets thrown towards the white-haired marshmallow maniac, and him escaping the room with a red face. Sometimes, he was more subtle in showing them. Lingering touches that stays on his skin a bit too long than necessary, increased physical contacts, mostly in the form of one-armed hugs or ruffles on his hair which he swatted away furiously (But he secretly liked them, a traitorous voice in his head whispered) every time. His nickname of Evan-kun became an everyday habit, no matter how much he told the man to stop calling him with it.
(But he could stop neither the increased thump-thump-thump of his heart nor the warmth that spreads through his chest for he knew that the call was more of an endearment than just an attempt to irritate him, and even when his face always burns every time the other teases him with it, he just couldn't seem to be able to get rid of the silent elation fluttering in his stomach.)
It was aggravating (wonderful).
So when that night Byakuran didn't even try to initiate a physical contact or even flirt with him when the two of them were alone and was instead leaning on the sofa with dark lilac eyes and a pensive frown that seemed so unnatural on his face, Evan was surprised. And worried.
(And perhaps a little disappointed.)
"What's wrong?" He questioned, minutely glancing back to the pasta boiling over the stove top, placing his hand on the shoulder of his flatmate.
Lilac eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion, moving towards the hand on his shoulder and back towards his face before a cheerful smile bloomed on the owner's face. Except it was so very fake with its disturbingly convincing quality (as if it has been practiced for thousands of times with the way he slipped it on with such natural ease) that he had to surpress a flinch when it didn't reach the cold, hollowed pair of eyes reminiscent of chipped amethyst.
"I'm fine, Evan-kun." The white-haired teen placated, but his eyes spoke otherwise.
"Alright." He simply said, the word plucking itself from his mouth with empty blandness that could rival a wall, because no matter how much he wanted to protest and retort on the obvious lie, he saw the unholy, obsessive ambition that lurked dangerously behind those eyes, and so he stayed quiet and went back to his now overcooked pasta, pondering over this dark side of his cheerful roommate he never knew before.
xxxxx
Byakuran watched the back of the younger teen as he left towards the kitchen, eyes dark and mind still filled over the plans of the upcoming coup d'etat of the Gesso famiglia to overthrow his father. He knew that Evan saw through his facade, but didn't say anything over the matter.
Smart choice. He'd rather him not find out about his status as a mafia boss' son, or even the mafia at all. Not if he had a choice about it. He was rather endearing, and he'd rather not lose another entertainment when it was so close in his reach. Shou-chan was becoming too boring lately.
What Evan doesn't know won't hurt him.
xxxxx
The next day, Byakuran was as lively as he usually was, teasing, flirting, and he even might have accidentally-on-purpose grabbed his butt when he was cooking, however, whether it was accidental or not (he really didn't think it was), he still chased angrily after the unrepentant white-haired teen around their dorm still in a white apron and armed with a wooden spoon until the latter locked himself in the bathroom for the next three hours to escape his wrath.
(He was far too relieved with the continuation of their usual routine that he managed to overlook the memory of unfamiliar frozen lilac eyes that showed a glimpse of all-consuming insanity hidden behind them.)
He managed to hide his flatmate's marshmallow stash in retaliation. However, judging from the almost wild look of hunger shining in his flatmate's eyes due to marshmallow deprivation--it actually seems possible to get it, now he knew--as he loomed over him, pining him onto the sofa, he didn't think that it was such a good idea now.
"Let go!" Evan protested hotly, trying to tug his wrists off of the white-haired teen's grip and failing miserably. Byakuran didn't even budge. Instead, he moved to straddle him, earning a surprised squeak as redness crept onto his cheeks in his embarrassment. He tried to ignore the sweet scent of marshmallows that wafted over him due to their close proximity and once again failing miserably, his heart thumping in accelerating rhythm as the other teen moved his face closer to his own until they were nearly nose-to-nose, until he was sure Byakuran could practicality feel the heat radiating from his face.
"Let me go, dammit..." He protested feebly, tugging his wrists weakly as he tried his best to avoid the other's gaze but found himself unable to look away from piercing lilac eyes that seemed to be even more captivating from nearby.
"Now, Evan-kun..." Byakuran sang playfully, but the sly glint in his eyes made him simultaneously want to run for the hills and blush even harder if it was actually possible."Let's try this again. Where did you keep my marshmallows?"
Evan stubbornly kept his mouth shut and looked away. "You'll never find it." He said instead, brown eyes sparkling with satisfaction and defiance despite the enormous blush on his face.
The white haired teen narrowed his eyes dangerously. "So that's it, hm? I guess I have no choice then."
He was just opening his mouth to ask what the heck he was talking about when a pair of soft lips mashed with his own heatedly, a skillful tongue slipping into his mouth, drawing a surprised, muffled moan as it mapped his mouth with vigour. His own tongue took the initiative to tangle tentatively with the one plundering his mouth, tasting faintly of marshmallows before it suddenly ripped itself off so abruptly, a whine escaping him in protest. His hazy mind registered an amused chuckle before a voice questioned him. "Marshmallows?"
"Under the sink..." he murmured dazedly, eyes still half-lidded, a spark of pleasure thrumming through his body from the kiss. The warmth above him pulled away, a protest building in his throat at the loss of heat.
When a jaunty "Thanks, Evan-kun~" reached his ears, he was instantly snapped out of his daze, but it was too late. Face burning furiously, he sat up abruptly, ignoring the whiplash from his sudden movement before he stomped towards the other teen with fisted hands, expression easily likened to a fuming dragon.
"BYAKURAAAAAN!!!"
xxxxx
From that day onwards, a tentative relationship was formed between them. It was new, it was sweet, and it was innocent. A few kisses shared, some kisses stolen, a perverted hand taking a few gropes before inevitably falling prey to a painful whack from a merciless hand or an even more unforgiving wooden ruler. Well, maybe the last part wasn't so innocent, he mused, absently whacking the hand that was straying towards his backside as hard as he could as he munched on the popcorn with most of his attention focused to the movie, ignoring the pained whine that sounded from the white-haired teen beside him.
A month since then.
Life was wonderful.
(But he couldn't help but notice the growing darkness he glimpsed behind playful lilac eyes, wondering what was making his companion so antsy as more days passed, even when he pretended to be oblivious, he still worried.)
xxxxx
One night, the pace changed itself.
He was about to retrieve a measuring cup from the kitchen cupboard to measure the sugar needed for a particular dish he was trying out when a pair of arms wrapped around him, trapping him between a kitchen cabinet and a chiseled chest, white hair tickling his shoulder as the scent of marshmallows enveloped him.Before he finished processing the fact that Byakuran was launching a surprise attack at him and that there was something hard resting over the curve of his ass, a hoarse, pleading "Evan-kun..." made his thought process stop in its tracks, sending a jolt of heat running south, and eliciting a shiver down his spine. His boyfriend (it's what he is, right?) gave a low groan, burying his face in yellow-tipped auburn hair, hips rocking against his backside, sending sparks of delicious, teasing friction for them both.
His grip on the kitchen cabinet went white when one hand pulled his waist backwards, bending him over the kitchen cabinet, while another slipped under his shirt, long, icy fingers trailing over overheated skin, scraping lightly, earning soft, trembling moans from the younger teen as the older one kept grinding onto the curve of the other's ass. His moans increased in volume as the fingers teasingly flick over the perky buds but they were cut off by a sharp gasp, his body arching back as his partner's devious hand made a quick work of his pants and slipped into his boxers, curling over his erection teasingly, feather-light squeezes and touches making him writhe, whimper and whine and plead, while the strained chuckle from behind him abruptly changed into a sharp inhale that ended as a groan when he rocked his hips back, pressing the other's erection snugly between his ass.
"S-serves you right." He huffed breathlessly, a loud moan escaping his lips as the hand on his cock suddenly squeezed.
"You were saying?" Byakuran purred against the nape of his neck, sweat sticking onto his hair, laughing slightly before titling his head back in a sloppy kiss, lips and tongue tasting each other in a messy tangle. They pulled away from the kiss to regain their breath, a string of saliva connecting their mouths. It was broken when the hand on his cock started pumping harder, eliciting loud moans and gasps before a finger scraped over its head teasingly, white overtaking his vision as he came with a cry of his lover's name.
Gaining his breath, he supported his figure with the kitchen cabinet before saying breathlessly, "You're one horny bastard, you know that? And now I have to wash myself."
Or not yet, he thought, still feeling the hardness poking him. Feeling heat rising his cheeks and ignoring them, he disregarded his soiled pants (he'd have to burn them later, he noted), he turned around and practically shoved his hands down on Byakuran's trousers, ignoring the wide-eyed look the other was giving him, turning their position so that the white-haired teen was now the one leaning on the cabinet.
At Byakuran's bewilderment, he flushed brighter, looking away. "I'm helping you, okay?" He mumbled, undoing the other's pants. "There's no way I'm leaving you hanging like this."
Bemusement slowly became palpable in lilac eyes, softening them. "Neh, Evan-kun is very cute~!" Byakuran gushed, before abruptly groaning. Brown eyes glared in warning, face as red as a tomato, the owner kneeling between the white-head's legs, hands pumping his cock with a steady pace. One hand scraped over the scrotum of his balls while the other thumbed over the slit of the head. Byakuran came on Evan's hands with a low groan, steadying himself using the kitchen cabinet, then kissing the forehead of his lover affectionately after they cleaned up their mess.
"Thank you, Evan-kun," he crooned softly. "I could've taken care of myself, you know."
"I know." He muttered, face dusted lightly in red. "It just wouldn't be fair to you."
"How sweet!" The white-haired teen hugged his lover tightly.
After a while, he pushed the other away gingerly. "We need to take a bath, Byakuran."
The other teen pouted. "Oh, alright."
They both went into the bathroom together, the sound of running water echoing softly.
The sugar and the cup was forgotten in the end, but they were happy.
(But when he wondered upon the desperate neediness that resounded in his lover's hoarse voice when he had initiated the act, his worry only grew, like poisonous vines that slowly constricted around his windpipe, choking him.)
xxxxx
He did it. He succeeded. He really, really did it! The coup was a success!
Byakuran hummed happily, feeling giddy as he twirled around their dorm with a face filled with marshmallows, looking like a deranged albino squirrel high on sugar.
The fact that he was stuffing twenty five marshmallows in his cheeks probably didn't help improving his current image, but he could care less.
"Evan-kun! Dance with me!" He demanded, but it came out more like "Evahkuh han wif meh!" due to the excessive amount of marshmallows in his mouth. His lover scrunched his nose rather cutely at his display, looking somewhat amazed with his mouth's capacity, a bit disgusted, and baffled with what he was trying to say. So he chewed the sweets in his mouth and swallowed them before repeating his words, slower this time. "Dance with me, Evan-kun."
As expected, a bit of red bloomed on the redhead's cheeks, and he didn't stop the wide, foxy smile that spread itself on his face from appearing, knowing that it would only serve to make the other blush harder.
Evan's voice managed to come out wry despite the red tint on his cheeks. "And why would I want to do that?" He stared pointedly at the ridiculous image the other was making.
He crossed his arms on his chest, huffing childishly. "Because..." he drawled, draping an arm over the redhead's shoulder and leaning his own head onto the other, plopping himself down to the sofa his lover was occupying. His hand placed a marshmallow on the other's lips, Evan opening his mouth obediently to let him put the soft confection to feed him, brown eyes still looking expectantly at him to finish his sentence. If his fingers had accidentally grazed over pale, soft lips or brushed tenderly against red-dusted cheeks for a little too long as he continued to feed the other teen, Evan didn't seem to mind.
"...because I want to." He finally finished his sentence after a lengthy silence only occasionally broken by soft chewing sounds.
He waited for the inevitable, flustered denial of his request.
".. Okay."
Only, it never came.
Lilac eyes widened in surprise, turning towards the redhead only to be met with soft, almost molten brown irises, sincere affection shining through their depths.
(And for a heart-stopping moment he might've seen a glimpse of something more, couldn't understand why his chest felt so tight, couldn't understand why he felt gravitated towards that gaze and the soft, almost dreamy smile that appeared on the redhead's face in that single moment...
Was this what he wanted?)
Unconsciously, his eyes softened as he leaned down to the shorter male for a brief kiss, a simple peck on the lips, that might actually speak more in its simplicity than any of their previous ones had.
As they pulled away, he stood up and pulled the other into an embrace, starting a slow, simple dance, the two swaying rhythmically to a beat of their own.
(He didn't know when the other had stopped becoming a mere plaything to him, from a source of amusement into something so, so much more. He didn't recall when he started to look forward to see the redhead with his yellow-tipped hair, or when he started enjoying the delightful red that blooms on the other's face whenever he teased the younger teen.)
He gave another peck on the forehead of his lover, pulling the other closer. He sighed contentedly as he rested his head above the mess of yellow-tipped red hair, feeling the hands on his back tightening their grip slightly, silently enjoying the moment.
It was nice.
(.......
It was funny how he didn't even know that he was drowning until he hit rock bottom.
Ironic. Wasn't he supposed to be the sea instead of the drowning man?
And even now, he still hadn't realized it.)
xxxxx
A fist slammed onto the shiny surface of a table angrily.
"Merda! That upstart brat actually fucking did it! And the boss was goddamn killed! Damn it all! Why the fuck wasn't I there!?
"Vestro, Luigi, Azzuro... They all...!!"
The hand slammed back onto the table surface, with more despair than anger this time. Instead, bubbling hatred started to rise as the man saw the newspaper clippings strewn on the table.
"Byakuran Gesso... You'll pay for this."
A wrinkled picture of a white-haired, violet-eyed teen with a foxy smirk stared back at him.
xxxxx
He walked leisurely towards their room, keys jingling noisily in his fingers as he twirled them, his other hand holding his ever-faithful skateboard.
Byakuran was still having some classes this afternoon, so he went back first. He had nothing else to do anyway, and he was in no mood to go anywhere. He just wanted to lie down and maybe whip up something for dinner later on.
With a click and a slight groan, the door opened. He was leaning down to place his shoes when a painful blow erupted to the back of his head.
His skateboard clattered as his grip went slack, his body falling forward with a loud crack as his abused head connected with the hard, unforgiving floor.
Pain-glazed brown eyes stared dazedly onto the lacquered wood floor, black spots dancing in his vision, too surprised to register anything. What...just happened?
"Cazzo?! Lui sei non il ragazzo!!" An angry voice seethed above him, seemingly cussing in another language. Italian, maybe? His unfocused mind thought distantly.
His vision blurred and then...
Black.
xxxxx
When Byakuran Gesso went home to find the dorm room unlocked and a green skateboard discarded so carelessly on the floor, he laughed.
It started as a slow chuckle, gradually increasing into a full-blown laughter filled with dark amusement. Violet eyes twinkled cruelly as a crooked smirk found its way to his lips.
How amusing. So this is how he wanted to play it, hm?
Pressing a number on speed dial, he brought his phone onto his ear. A male voice was heard from the other side of the line. "Byakuran-sama?"
"Yo, Kikyo-kun. I have a mission for you." He greeted, a foxy smile on his lips. "Remember my dear father?"
"Of course, Byakuran-sama." Kikyo answered readily. "Is something the matter?"
"I want you to fetch me his mutt. He has been left alone for a little too long." He said in a cheerful tone, but an undertone of dark promises slipped through the seams.
"At once, Byakuran-sama."
With a click, he pocketed his phone back, staring towards the windows of their dorm with abstracted eyes. Now, all he had to do was wait. A God has no need to directly intervene with his unruly subjects, after all.
He fingered the chocolate lollipops Evan was fond of, the ones he had just bought on his way home. His gaze slid towards the candy, then to the door on the other side of the room.
Maybe he could make an exception this time.
(Maybe Evan had always been an exception for him.)
xxxxx
He woke up to the chilling sound of a dying man's pained screams.
His head throbbed lightly, his mouth was dry, and his back was stiff as it was resting on a concrete wall. His skin crawled as a particularly blood-curdling, borderline inhumane howl resounded from another room, faintly sounding like a vicious curse. It was suddenly cut off, a dull thud following its wake. Bile rose in his throat as he guessed what had happened to the man. His head must've been cut off, he thought. Hysteria caught his thoughts in a vicious grip as his mind became clearer. Unsavory scenarios flashed through his head, his heart thundering in apprehension.
(WhereamIwhatjusthappenedohshitdearfuckinglord-
What is going to happen to him?)
But nothing else scared him more as familiar-sounding chuckle echoed through the walls.
(Disbelief. Fear. Relief? Just what...?)
Deciding to ignore his survival instincts that screamed at him to lay low, he brought himself up with shaky hands, holding onto the wall to support him as he took unsteady steps towards the other room.
Panicked thoughts and hysteria fled from his mind the moment the smell of burning flesh hit his nose, his legs folding underneath him as he took in the scene with wide brown eyes and a white-knuckled grip.
A charred, headless, mangled body was pinned onto the opposite wall with a single, deadly blade of white feather through its (his, he mentally corrected numbly) shoulder. Fractured dirty white bones jutted out of blackened skin, cracks of vibrant red running along the surface. Pooling underneath it was a small amount of blood, the rest splattered amongst the walls, with smears of red handprints littered all around. A few feet away from the corpse was a blackened, severed head with bloody red pupils, mouth slack, only a few clumps of hair left on its scalp. The expression on its face was twisted with such pain and hate, that tremors shook his body as his stricken gaze slid away from it.
And in the center of it all was Byakuran, his lips curved into his usual foxy smile, a bit more crooked this time. A pair of ethereal white wings was folded across his back, posture easy and lax as if there was nothing wrong with the picture before him. Orange flames danced between his fingers, its flecks reflected in sinister lilac gaze.
Not a single drop of red touched him.
An almost inaudible whisper slipped out of his trembling lips, not unlike a wispy breeze in a dying wasteland. "Byakuran..."
Inaudible and weak, but it was all that was needed to bring the white-haired teen's attention towards him. Violet eyes brightened with almost-childish enthusiasm, before its owner closed the space between them in a quick stride, kneeling down to his level with his hands outstretched to bring him up.
"You may leave now, Kikyo." The violet-eyed male said absent-mindedly as he instead swept the redhead into his arms in a bridal style, the latter staring in surprise at the still, mint-haired man standing in the corner that he hadn't noticed before. The said man silently nodded, before walking out of the room.
As Byakuran walked outside with him in his arms, he bowed his head to hide his conflicted expression, a hand clutching onto the other's shirt like a lifeline.
(Why did he take his hands? Why was he still clutching his shirt to comfort himself? Why was he still trusting him despite the clear picture of what he had just done?
Why, why, why, why-)
"Do you hate me?" A question came out of the blue.
"...Eh?" He answered oh-so-articulately, raising his head to face the other teen. A smile was still fixed on Byakuran's face, but his eyes was trained forward, holding a weight that was as profound as his words were.
"You know, I was the son of a mafia boss. I'm one now, Evan-kun. Alexander Verro took you because he wanted revenge for his capo, my dear father, who I killed a few weeks ago. I strive to create a new world, a perfect world," the white-head gave a slight chuckle, eyes gleaming with manic ambition. "And after knowing that... Do you hate me, Evan-kun?"
He should, he really, really should. After all those inhumane things he committed, he really should hate him. But-
(There is always a but, isn't there?)
"No," he answered softly but steadily, no longer than a split-second after the question was uttered, clutching the piece of fabric tighter in his hand as he met surprised lilac eyes with sincerity written across his face. A flash of something warm ran across violet, Byakuran simply adjusting his grip on him as the two continued their walk to go back home.
(Despite everything he had done and all the things he would most likely do in the future, he couldn't bring himself to hate him.
As a memory of dark violet eyes flashed through his mind, he just hoped that the trust in his heart is not misplaced.)
-End-
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