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The Xanxus Manuscript

Chapter Text

Act I: Confessions Of A Sinner

Word Count: 8470



Xanxus stifled down a shiver as a gale blasted through the streets, refusing to show the people side-eyeing him any sort of weakness. It was early morning and dew was still clinging to mounted plants and weeds as the small street rat dodged bustling men and women, merchants and trade folk calling out deals and prices, trying to coerce and hagle people into their merchandise.

Xanxus huffed as he glanced around, trying to pick out a sufficiently distracted store owner or an unattended stall in attempts to get his meal for the day, his mother at home still sick with a cold and unable to bring in any of their own customers. Coughing up mucus wasn’t much of a turn-on to most people, surprisingly enough.

His careful pottering was paused when he heard the slight jangle of a door, his wine-eyed gaze following the sound to fall under a white on green sign, a frail looking woman seemingly having trouble with the door.

She gave it another shove before sighing loudly, her hands coming to her hips before she looked over her shoulder and called out into the bakery.

“Can you help me with the door?!”

The cold little boy blinked in confusion, not at all understanding the garble of noises the woman had blasted into empty space. He moved out of the way as a cart came rolling by, huge loads of barrels of savoury scented substance blocking his view of the little bakery store.

“What’s wrong with the door?”

“I can’t get it open.”


His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of startle as he heard metal screech against metal before loud ring of their bell, the thwack of the door hitting the jam and vibrating from the impact. Eyes glanced to the sound, before they brushed it off, quick to go back to their bargaining. Xanxus wasn’t as easy to distract, however, his red wine orbs magnetised to the door, interest of the strange dialect and mysterious strength overpowering the gnaw of hunger at his stomach.

When the trailer passed, taking with it probably his likeliest chance of any kind of breakfast, Xanxus tried to find the source of the young yet based voice, a disappointed frown coming to his face when he saw no such being, the young woman waving with a thanking coo into the bakery. He grunted with a risen grump, miffed that he hadn’t been able to spot the new interest, before glancing to the sign, making a mental note to visit again. The owner looked weak and slow, she wouldn’t be able to chase him on a good day should he be caught.

Yamaguchi Bakery.

Xanxus was right, she couldn’t chase him. Her son, however, could.

The street rat panted as he raced around a corner, gravel loose under his bare feet and irritating his soles, breath hitching painfully when he caught a flash of tan and blue hot on his tail.

It had taken the small boy a week of careful observation and thought to make his stealing, learning the layout of the store from a distance and watching the hours turnovers. So, it had only taken so long before he had bared witness to the baker’s son.

The baker’s boy, he had learnt was Daiki Yamaguchi and only a year older than himself. This had both surprised him and not, the older boy being a good few sizes bigger than himself, filling out in muscle better as well, but the shock had been quickly cured by the reminder of their situations, one being a street rat, the other being a middle class. Daiki Yamaguchi as unnaturally perceptive, being strangely aware of his surroundings at almost all times. This had led to Xanxus diving behind walls and blending into crowds many a time as the boy turned to look to him with suspicion in his eyes, paranoia prickling along his nape.

As a result, a lengthy week had been put into this, his pride outweighing his common sense as the small slum resident saw the Yamaguchi Bakery as more and more of a beckoning challenge. The son daring him to try his damndest to steal from them, even if he was unaware of his own actions.

And now, here Xanxus was, baguette clutched in his hands as he dove into the alleys he knew so well, his challenger powering after him with an almighty glare that sent shivers of excitement scrambling along his spine as he lept over a box. His feet carried him through winding alley ways, hard packed earth abusing his calloused soles before he pressed himself against a wall, training his breath to a light airiness, straining his ears for his follower.

After a few seconds, there was nothing. He waited for a few more, and was rewarded with more silence.

His adrenalised grin slowly began to waver, the grip he had on the bread stick weakening as he began to calm down, disappointment seeping into his mind. He had been hoping for something better from the baker’s boy. More of a challenge. More of a thrill. A weary sigh escaped him as he pushed off the wall, tucking the bread under his arm as he shoved his numbed hands into his pockets.

“He’s just as dumb as the r-”


“I beg your pardon, who’s dumb?”

Xanxus gaped up at the looming boy, his eyes wide in alarm as his ass hit the floor. Daiki was way too close way too fast, his knees bent slightly to absorb the impact of the fall, his form eclipsing the morning sun and shadowing his face harshly, making his features sharper and the hard narrow of his eyes more menacing.

Daiki Yamaguchi would grow up into someone who would steal eyes and hearts just as easily as Xanxus stole those shiny red apples from under the noses of careless stall owners, lustrous little things resting in the palms of their hands, meant to be handled with care. The street rat kept the quiver of his lip under control as he faced off the glare of the older boy, seeing a closed off hostility under the amber-earth watching him.

The Wrathful little Sky held the desire to bare his teeth instinctively at the threat, knowing the uncanny sharpness of his canines would at least startle his peer, but refused to lower himself before the other any more than he already had fallen, dust clinging to the seat of his pants. Xanxus narrowed his fiery red eyes up at Daiki, acutely aware of every move he made, the slight impression of his pulse in his tanned neck as clear as day to the prone thief.

“That bread, you stole it. Return it and I won’t call any law enforcement.” The baker's son spoke clearly, no waver in his voice.

The street rat Sky clutched the item tighter for a moment. He didn’t know why, but he felt that he was in more danger trying to fight this boy than he would ever be attempting to do the same to any of the men out on the street with him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake obeying to daring call of the bakery.

“No, finder’s keeper.” Xanxus snipped back despite his thoughts, brash nature winning out and his bruised ego needing soothing.

“You did not find it, you stole it.” The taller boy huffed before reaching out, his target obvious. “Now give it ba-”

The Sky growled loudly and kicked his leg out, catching the blue haired Sun in his gut and making him stumble back. Xanxus wasted no time in getting to his feet and taking off, feeling his skin prickle in warning, as if he had just set off a fire. His breath came fast as he dove around corners, blood pumping faster as he heard heavy footsteps on the roofs above his head, a shadow slashing the sunshine to follow his twists and turns.


Xanxus gasped as a heavy weight crashed down on him, his head cracking on the concrete as feet slammed down just scarce of his hands.

“C’mere you little-”

The boy cut himself off from whatever curse he was going to spill to grab the fallen Sky and push him onto his back. Xanxus glared up at him as he sat on the other’s stomach, heels digging into the wrathful boy’s hands as Daiki held the stolen merchandise, looking it over for damage.

“Get off me!”

“Be quiet.” He huffed, not bothering to look at his captive.

The little slum dweller tried to thrash himself out of the hold, but his frail, little body couldn’t push the larger boy off, anger and humiliation boiling under his skin.

“You fuckin’ asshole! I’ll tear your eyes out and sell your blinded-”

The Sun hummed as he shoved a chunk of bread into the smaller mouth, wide, red eyes taking in his blankened face.

“Actually, humans are worth more, monetarily, in parts. You’d get a higher price if you sold my organs.” He commented, picking another mouthful off and shoving it in Xanxus’ mouth when he attempted to shout again.

“You’ve spoilt this, it can’t be sold now. So eat.”

“Get the fuck off me!” The Sky spat, twisting his hips and bucking, trying to throw the other off.

His struggles were halted sharply as a hand clamped down on his throat, wine eyes flashing with panicked anger as they locked with calmly seething amber-earth.

“You stole and ruined our merchandise, you should be grateful that I’m being lenient. If I were in any worse of a mood, I would have already kicked your head in.”

The blasé, collected way Daiki spoke sent an unintended thrill through his blood, his breath hitching and catching under the Sun’s hand. In the time he had been watching the Yamaguchi Bakery all he had ever seen was a boy of polished smiles and polite inclines. The careful, choreographed movements of his hands and body used to hypnotize and coerce the people around him into pleasantly disregarding him, hiding away the threat that was being displayed now. The raw power that as packed into the limbs that controlled Xanxus’ movements.

In that moment, he wondered, just how far he could push Daiki. How much pressure it would take to crush that ease and leave him spitting poison and breathing fury. What would he look like? What would he sound like? How would he move?

The thoughts and ideas swirled in his mind, creations of fantastical imaginations crafting the peaceful boy as a demon or a justly cruel being plaguing him as he grasped the arm holding him.

For the first time in a while, Xanxus smiled, feeling the hand around his throat tighten.


Xanxus loved to make Daiki angry.

The wrathful little boy loved the herculene pressure that would weigh down on his lungs whenever the carefully sculpted exterior of that picturesque boy would crack and snap, an unseen inferno smouldering under his skin and singeing the Sky wonderfully whenever his calloused, tanned hand would wrap around his throat in a warning.

Xanxus had a twisted adoration for the twitch and tense of the corded muscle that followed the larger’s movements, the jump of his jaw and the sharpened narrow of his eyes, amber-earth melting into liquid gold that looked down on him, preparing to pour everflowing riches and rage into Xanxus’ awaiting hands. He found satiation in watching that crafted smile bow into a cold, cynical curl, or become teeth and venom.

What made the fire even sweeter was its rarity, a honeyed jewel that only Xanxus was able to taste and admire, growing fonder with every day he had to wait and chip away at renewed defences, the walls becoming sturdier and more complex with every explosion of beautiful wrath.

Daiki was learning to be patient with him, learning to block out behaviours and blind both eyes to his baiting. He didn’t fall for petty stealing now, able to catch the Sky and force him to place it back. Breaking things around their land didn’t work either, the Yamaguchi boy uncannily capable at repairing miscellaneous damages. There were few things that Xanxus could do that would tick the boy’s temper, but he wasn’t quite ready to play the trump card he had up his sleeve. No, he wouldn’t use Kaede Yamaguchi yet, not for a long time.

Yes, the things he usually did had lost their sting and bite, but there were things, actions, behaviours that hadn’t been able to shake once he had started. Even a year later after he had been pinned, fed and choked in the back alleys of Sicily, and months after he had made his first attempts, Xanxus found himself scaling the wall of the Yamaguchi Bakery and precariously picking the lock of the son’s window, the chill of the winter seeping in as he cracked it open and slunk inside, the dark night hiding him from prying eyes.

The wrathful boy closed the window after him and toed off his shoes, the pair given to him by the blue haired Yamaguchi after finding him the second time padding around in the melted snow sludge. His tattered jacket came off next, and his mostly useless pants followed, leaving him in his underwear and a long sleeve shirt nicked from Daiki’s wardrobe. Xanxus shivered, and padded over to the bed, taking a moment to peer at the sleeping boy within.

Over the time he had spent with the older boy, he had come to realise just how good looking he was going to become, and how the foreshadowing was showing on his face already. Xanxus often found himself staring at his strange Daiki, remembering the way his expression twisted with reactions. He was outlandish in ways that baffled and amused the Sky, his desire to poke and prod him growing with every revelation.

The Yamaguchi boy was sleeping quite peacefully now, and that made Xanxus smirk. He reached out and yanked the blankets free from the other's hold, instantly waking him with a gust of cold air and harsh movement. The Sky knew how he reacted to abrupt wake ups, especially if the sky was still pitch and he had not needed to start the day. The first time Xanxus had woken him up, the wrathful little boy had earned himself a bloody nose and a split lip, his head bashed against the far wall.

“Hello Daiki.” Xanxus smirked, seeing tired irritation bloom from within the spectrum of precious elements.

The Yamaguchi Sun narrowed his eyes, slowly deciphering the shadowed face, before groaning at the standing boy and rolling over, smothering his face into the eggshell sheets.

“Don’t ignore me.” He huffed, seeing the hand clutching his pillow twitch.

“What do you want?” Daiki grunted, voice rough from sleep and aggravation.

Xanxus’ lip twitched minutely, amber-earth peeking lazily at him from within the pillow’s lumps, liking their languid, bleary focus.

“Hm.” Was his gruff response, before he pushed the other slightly and climbed into the body warmed bed.

At first, Xanxus had done this solely to irk the older, but after the many attempts, he had found himself unsatisfied with his hard bed, the cold of worn sheets, the sounds of his mother's customers corrupting his dreams and filling them with red, blue and gold encrusted amber. He now haunted the Sun's bed for the warmth, soft and quiet beats and breaths.

“Did I say that you could get in bed with me?” Daiki grumbled, shuffling away as winter chilled hands reached to steal his body heat

“You make it sound like you have an option.”

The baker's son groaned long and loud before rolling again, Xanxus’ arm latching around his waist and dragging him back to the centre, taking up his prefered position of being nicely tucked under Daiki's chin, the Sun's arm dragged over to drape on his hip. The Sky listened with amusement as his bed partner vocalised dislike for the rough situating, but allowed for Morpheus to win out and drifted easily.

Xanxus smirked at the little victory, burrowing closer as if to prove a point before grasping the back of the older’s nightshirt in a vice grip, not allowing for any late night retreats as he had experienced before. He let out a long, relaxing breath.

“You like to kick up a fuss, but in the end you let me in.” He huffed.

“Shut up, Xanxus.”

The street rat Sky paused at that, before tightening his grip on the other boy.

Daiki almost never called Xanxus by name, he seemed almost scared of the name at times. At the same time, he seemed to have a deep rooted respect for it.

The Sky wished Daiki had been facing him when they had formally exchanged names, a week after their first run in. The baker's son had been writing in rune-like characters, his back to the seated boy across the counter that afternoon when he had asked, finally relenting to the fact that he would not be getting rid of the street rat anytime soon.

“Who’re you anyway?” He had asked, scratching the signs into the page.


Wine eyes had not missed the sudden tension, his scrawling frozen in place as an inkwell began to form. He raised his oddly shaped eyebrow in interest at the reaction, seeing the forced calm that came after a too deep breath.

“Xanxus, huh?” Daiki had breathed, putting his pen away and closing the book. “That's a powerful name.”

The Sky watched as he turned, leaning back on the counter with an easy smile, his voice ringing of a startling sincerity.

“It suits you well.”

Xanxus. He called it a powerful name.

The Sky felt a boil over of pride, and hid it away by smothering his face into the crook of Daiki's neck, listening to the annoyed grumble.


“Oi, Daiki.”

The Yamaguchi Sun looked over his shoulder as Xanxus walked up to him, their alley way humid with the summer. Daiki raised an eyebrow at the barely concealed expression of excitement that bubbled under the default bitch face.

“Hm?” He hummed, turning to the bastard.

“Look at what I can do.” The street rat huffed, holding his hand out.

Daiki stood expectantly, looking at the rough palm with a blank face. A minute passed, then two.

“Am I meant to be seeing something?”

Xanxus scowled and shook his hand, glaring daggers at the empty palm.

“It worked this morning.” He tried, splaying his fingers off to the side furiously.

The Sun just looked at the wrathful child as he waved his hand around, yelling abuse at the appendage.

“Ah, if it doesn’t want to then-” Daiki started, only to be cut off as the Sky’s temper piqued, teeth coming to bare and grit.

“Fucking work!”

A furious orb of heat roared to life in the child’s hand, orange tinted fire screaming up his fingers and flaring about, ready to strike any who would oppose. Xanxus grinned, pride coming as he succeeded, before looking to Daiki and pausing.

Amber-earth were frozen in a moment of awe mixed with startle, and underneath it all, recognition. Daiki knew what this was?

“That’s cool Xanxus...What the hell is it?”

“I can make fire! I’m like those guys from your shows!”

Daiki blinked, “The magical girls?”

“No!” The Sky snapped, feeling a flush hit his ears. “Those saiyans and shit!”


Xanxus balled his fists as he stood in the gale blown alley, scraps of broken boxes and carvings on the wall still laying a testament to the meetings of the two boys over the years. His eyes narrowed as he walked closer to the frost flecked stone, hand coming to wipe away a sheen of dust and dew to reveal a deep engraving of two sets. Daiki had taken a pocket knife from within the bakery one day, and had struck the wall with it, whittling away the solidified clay and matter until two lines of characters, oriental and latin in nature, were tattooed into the surface.

ザンザスそして 大輝

Xanxus e Daiki

It surprised him that this hadn't faded as much as it should, perhaps it was due to his ritualistic attention, multiple sticks and the state of his nails sacrificed to his efforts to keep the original work strong. Daiki had noticed his hands not too long after the habit had started, and had spent the remainder of that day doing strange motions on them, Xanxus hadn’t realised his nails could be that clean.

“Did you know, your nails and hair are made of the same material?”

“That’s impossible. One is soft, the other is hard.”

“Nonetheless, they are both comprised of a protein called keratin.”

Xanxus twitched at the memory, the rough pads of his fingers grazing over the impressions of the other’s name alongside his thoughtfully. He had been told of the boy’s origins, a country called Japan on the other side of the world, having provoked his mother to move after he deemed his father was unsuitable. The woman, Kaede, had chosen the location, having wanted to venture further than her roots since she was a child, and had always seen Italy as a city of romance and dreams. Daiki himself seemed careful about the country, perhaps aware of its underground workings, or tepid about such a shift in surroundings, but the street rat was a shade grateful to the easily blindsided matron, having brought her son across the world to fall under his sky.

“I thought I’d find you.”

Xanxus didn’t bother looking up as warmth grazed his side, Daiki bumping their elbows in greeting and he joined the viewing party.

“Why’re you out here?” The Sun asked, brushing off some imperfection clinging to Xanxus’ kanji, lining the characters with tanned tips.

The Sky hummed under his breath as he watched the smooth motion of the other’s hands, calloused with work. They had grown since they had met, two more years of knowledge under their belt, and two years of each other stained into their memory. Daiki had grown bigger, more muscle on him than ever, Xanxus still scrambling to catch up with a scrawnier body. The Sun no longer bothered to deny the Sky when he was forced to make room in his slowly shrinking bed, their bodies pressed close lest one fall. The idea of bathing together had been odd and invasive at first, but Xanxus eventually grew used to seeing a girl’s body with a boy’s voice.

It was hard to imagine what these years would have been had he not stolen from the Yamaguchi Bakery, had he not fallen to the challenge of the baker’s son. If Daiki had not thought to jump the roofs, if Daiki had been just a second slower, if- God forbid- he had been born at a different time, none of this would have happened.

“Oi, what’s with that face?” The Sun asked, reaching out and grabbing a piece of Xanxus’ mane.

Wine eyes turned on his companion, watching expertly concealed concern pass by when precious gems of bloody ruby and ambered gold met.

That was another thing that had happened: it had become impossible to veil their intentions. Alteriors were easily unmasked between them, conniving plans and backstabbing pranks caught seconds before they were executed, flatline lips seen as cheshire grins. Daiki, especially, seemed very intune with the Sky’s behaviours and intentions, something the boy found both unfair and useful. Sure, having someone who knew what you wanted before you told them was great, but having someone who knew what you wanted, was aggravating.

“Xanxus, what’s going on up there?” Daiki asked again, tugging the lock of hair to pull the Sky’s ear closer.

Xanxus’ skin rippled as the breath washed over his neck, nails digging into the wall to stop any further reaction. He could feel the eyes burning the side of his face, their narrow sparking the twisted delight he had come to associate with Daiki’s name and existence.

“I’m leaving.” He said finally.

“Elaborate, please.” That wasn’t a request, despite how polite it sounded.

“My mother found my father. I am going to be given to him for the remainder of my dependant years, he will be able to provide for me better.”

He felt Daiki pause, face as blank as the day he had met him, but with an underlayer of concern hiding from normal view.

“You said ‘provide for’, is he someone of significant status?” He asked.

“Mother says he is, but I am unsure of what that measures up as.”

“Your mother has entertained a variety of men, I believe we can trust in her evaluation.”

Xanxus wanted to bristle at that, but the slight frown that came after distracted him.

“When are you leaving?”

“In an hour.”

“You are going to meet your prospective father in an hour,” Daiki breathed, looking him up and down. “Wearing that?”

This time, Xanxus did bristle, baring his teeth warningly as his cheeks flushed a little in embarrassment. His clothes were less than stellar, he couldn’t deny. They were probably his best set, but that would amount to nothing in the eyes of higher society.

“Come on.” The Sun huffed, grabbing his collar and tugging the begrudged wrath along.

Kaede waved at the two of them as he was dragged through the house, Xanxus fighting to hide the roll of his eyes and scowl on his lips. He was towed up the steep flight of stairs before roughly stripped and shoved into the shower stall, a pelting of luke-warm water coming down on him.

“First impressions are important. You will present yourself in the best condition.” Daiki stated, rolling up his sleeves before attacking the smaller boy with a sponge and perfumed soap.

As per usual of their shared bath times, Xanxus kicked up a fuss, trying to escape the sweet smelling washes and calloused hands of his companion. And as per usual, Daiki managed to wrap his hand around his throat and pin him to the tiled wall until the boy was clean of any build up. The Sun stepped back, his clothes drenched from the shower, but crossed his arms and huffed in victory as wine eyes glared daggers at him through a dripping fringe, usually spiky and wild hair plastered to his scalp.

“Stop that, you look like a wet kitten.” The older grunted, before tossing a towel at the soon to depart boy.

“Shut up, asshole.”

“A hissing wet kitten.” He continued, looking over his shoulder as he dried himself off as well. “Now c’mon, let’s see if I still have it.”

Xanxus raised an eyebrow but padded after the other, muttering profanities unsuited for the tender age of nine. He sat on the bed and crossed his arms, refusing to pout as he watched the blue haired boy sort through his wardrobe, digging all the way into the back as he cursed to himself.

“Mother fu...getting in the way all the time...son of a bitch thinks he can...How long until fuckin- Here!”

The baker’s son withdrew from his black hole of a closet and pulled out with him a pile of neatly folded clothes, dark in colour with flashes of white. He beat any dust from it quickly before unravelling it onto his bed beside the Sky.

“A...A kids suit.”

“Well, technically it’s just formal wear. A suit is a bit different.” Daiki corrected, before snatching the towel away and pegging some spare undergarments at him. “Now, suit up.”

“You just said it wasn’t a suit.”

“It’s a phrase. Shut up and get in the clothes.”

It took struggling, cursing and some pinching before the wrathful boy was wrestled into the formals, his face showing obvious displeasure as he glowered at the smirking Sun. It didn’t stay long however, as he watched a sharp flash of panic disappear into a void behind Daiki’s eyes.

“You look good.” He choked, before walking over to the little side table and produced a comb, running it through stubborn hair.

Xanxus frowned, not liking the unease he felt buzzing in the air, but remained quiet as he was fussed over. He gave an almighty sigh of relief as they flopped down on Daiki’s bed, legs tired from being told to hold poses. The Sky rumbled before rolling over and purposefully lying atop the languid baker.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes before you have to go home.”

“Mm, so?” He grunted.

“I wonder if you’ll still be able to come to our little downtown area...I highly doubt it.”

“I’ll come if I want to. They can’t keep where I don’t want to be.” Xanxus grunted, narrowing his eyes in challenge.

“But will you want to?” Daiki asked.

Amber-earth moved down to look at molten ruby with a startling openness, Xanxus’ hand closing to squeeze the solid grey shirt that clad a bound chest. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, breathing in synchrony.

“Hey Daiki,” Xanxus stared, leaning closer. “Kiss me.”

Daiki blinked. Then he punched Xanxus right in the nose.

“No fucking way, Xanxus.”


Xanxus sat on his bed quietly, a sea of sheets spread out on the massive structure and smelling fresh as all hell. His room was the most lavish thing he had ever seen, strong and rich colours of red and brown painting its atmosphere.

He had spent the day settling himself into the space, his father accepting him after he had presented his fire. Eyes reflecting his dark orange fire tinted with blood red, glinting with recognition.

Recognition of his Flame, that is. His feature don’t resemble mother that much, and save for the spiky hair, he doesn’t see much in Vongola Ninth as well. He was just as much his blood as that one asshole bluejay on that one lone chimney.

He hates bluejays. Asshole birds that are only good for decoration.

Good thing that he made an earing out of it, the blue feathers occasionally brushing against his neck. The reminding sensation still gives him a curl of satisfaction.

In any case, he throws himself back onto the bed, ignoring the ceiling. It is a dream bed, silky smooth, cool fabric quickly warming up from his body heat. It’s like lying on air or clouds of quiet happiness. He sinks into it like it is Morpheus’ embrace itself.

Except, he’s not sleepy at all.

Because, fuck it, he hates this shit. It’s artificial happiness, man-made bliss that is withheld from him, and reserved for those that are born into wealth without knowing if they are even strong enough to survive.

Good thing he knows, from his very bones to the rush of his blood, that he is strong. Plenty of power that is his to be entitled to all this shit.

His fingers curl into claws as he grips the fabrics underneath him, a lazy, smug smirk on his lips. Conviction humming in the back of his mind.

Plenty of power to be able to rip everything that is rightfully reserved to the strong, leaving the undeserving weak in shambles.


Weighed down by an unruly amount of textbooks, hungry, sleepy, and seventeen years old, Daiki Yamaguchi grumbled to himself as he trudged home from school. The weather was nice enough, if you liked gale force winds and near-brutal rain. He huffed as he pulled the door closed behind him, the slab struggling to fly with the wind, only relenting as it’s lock was forcibly stuck in place.

“Daiki-kun, Daiki-kun! You have guests!” Kaede called, stepping out of behind the counter with a laugh.

“Guests? Who?”

“Oh, go see for yourself!”

Daiki thinned his lips and put down his dripping jacket by the umbrella rack, his own black one dry as a bone, having been forgotten in the morning rush. The teen tussled his hair, trying to get as much of the moisture out of it as possible before he walked into meet these ‘guests’.

The Yamaguchi’s never had guests- at least, not welcome ones. That last ones who came had gifted him his title and an extra surname to write down in official documents.

His mother tossed a towel on his head as he walked past, the sudden enshroudment startling him for a moment, before he gave a muffled thanks and scrubbed the rainwater out as best he could. Stepping through the door to the living space, Daiki hummed and quickly unpacked his books, relieved to find the plastic bag he had wrapped around them had preserved the pages from the downfall, His pencil case, on the other hand, would require some maintenance.

Placing his hands on his hips, the young man looked about the space, peering around doorways to try and find these elusive guests. He hummed when no such luck came, standing by the stairs before ascending. A loud crash followed by the ceiling shaking made him freeze and stare at the shaking boardwork.

Muffled shouts came through the divider and made his eyes widen, teeth set into a grit as he skipped steps to get to the landing, and wrenching open his door.

His room was in a certain disarray, drawers open and overflowing, stationery, books, worksheets and clothes dragged out onto the floor in piles. Sitting cross legged on the floor was a young teen, his grin manic and his fringe covering both eyes in a curtain of wheat, hiding away the look that he was sending the stunned boy as he sat amongst the carnage, an assignment paper in his hand.

“Shishishishishi, look who’s finally come home.” Belphegor snickered, causing a tall, lithe man to pull his head out from the baker boy’s closet, spare binder in hand.

“Ah! The surveillance photos didn’t do you justice!” Lussuria gasped, sunglasses glinting as he scanned the drenched body.

Daiki thinned his lips and strained not to make a U-turn, doubting he’d get very far at all with two officers from the Vongola’s Varia standing in his room. This was proven even further as his back thudded against a chest, making him look over his shoulder and see the hulking form of the Lightning, Leviathan, taking up his doorway.

“This is who we’re after?” He scoffed, small irises criticizing the Sun’s very existence.

“He’s who Boss wants.” Came another voice, Mammon floating out of the bathroom, small bag in his hands. “We don’t need to know the details.”

“I beg your pardon?” Daiki uttered suddenly, looking between the mass of intruders. “Who wants who?”

“Our Boss, and you.” Belphegor kekkered, sending a paper aeroplane flying across the room. “Come on then.”

“I’m not going anywhere, thanks.” He denied, stepping out of Leviathan’s range. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave instead. So, if you would.”

Lussuria hummed to himself as he sauntered across the room, coming to stand toe to toe with the stern boy, a curled smile adorning his face.

“We’re sorry, honey, but we’ve got to follow orders! I’m sure you understand.”

“I understand that someone I am not familiar with at all has sent a group of people to my home, in which they then tore apart my room and have invaded my privacy. Whoever this Boss of yours is, I want nothing to do with him.”

Even as he said this, Daiki felt his lips burn, a tremor in his spine beginning. He knew full well who waited for him should he follow the Varia. The kid he hadn’t seen since he had gone uptown, ascended from the slums.

“Well, that’s too bad. Boss said he’d be willing to pay me.” Mammon hummed, turning to him. “You’re coming.”

Xanxus sipped away at his cup of amber, the liquid scalding his throat as he relaxed into his chair. His knees were crossed lazily as he reclined, wine eyes looking across the room to the mass on his bed.

It had been years since he had laid eyes on the figure of imposing muscle and strength, though, he had hoped to an extent that he wouldn't have had to reunite with the older slung over Leviathan’s shoulder, passed out from a heavy blow dealt by Mammon. But, it didn’t really matter, in the end he managed to catch the elusive bastard.

The Mafia hummed, letting his eyes drag over the person he had haunting his memory, been a specter in the corner of his room on dark nights. Daiki was back, and it would stay that way


Xanxus stilled his sip, turning his gaze on the older boy, watching as he slowly roused himself.

A hand came to the hair of blue, cradling his temple as a headache pouded his cranium. Sharp teeth gritted and ground as Daiki pushed himself to sit up.

“Ow,” He moaned, low and slow. “That hurts…”

Xanxus pressed his lips to the crystal glass as the based note rumbled through the walls, surprised at the reaction, but not incredibly so. He knew full well the root and cause of the heat in his stomach, alcohol never quite mimicking it quite the same.

Instead, what made his nerves spark with excitement was the amber encrusted gold that was turned on him, and what made his blood sing, was the unbridled anger mixed with inlays of pearly surprise.

“You!?” Daiki uttered, sounding both astonished and not in the least. “Why did you bring me here?”

“On a whim.” He answered, a half truth.

It was true that this sudden reeling in was a spur of the moment decision, however, the idea of dragging the baker's son as he fought tooth and nail had swarmed his mind for years since their separation.

“On a whim?” The older repeated, before shaking his head, getting to his feet. “I don't think you know how this sort of thing goes. You cannot just uproot me when you so please. I have things to do.”

“You make it sound as if you have a choice.” He huffed, watching the other get his shoes back on his feet.

The familiar phrase made him pause, eyes widening for a moment, before they softened. Daiki sighed loudly before standing straight, patting his pockets for all his possessions.

“I have my own life, and as wonderful as a reunion may have been, your actions were too abrupt and -pardon me when I say this- brutish.” He crossed his arms as he said this, causing eyes to be vectored to the muscle that defined his shirt.

“You may have not realised, but we have been separated for near seven years-”

“But you recognised me.” Xanxus snipped.

“An easy thing to do.” Daiki shrugged, “You may have cut your hair and changed your clothes, but I still see the little thief that doesn't know when to stop.”

The Sky bared his teeth at that, not at all liking the rebellion he was getting from a civilian.

“If you knew who I was, who I turned out to be, I doubt you'd be talking to me like that.” He scowled.

“If you had wanted to reintroduce yourself, a better result would have come from simply making an arrangement beforehand. A call would have serviced!”

A bubbling annoyance came through into the Sky's state, but a familiar tingle beginning in the pits of his stomach, one he hadn't felt since he was young.

“I sent the trash to get you and your belongings, that's more than enough.” He huffed, knowing he'd just chipped a hole into the armour.

“My belongings?” Daiki repeated, before narrowing his eyes. “Why would you bring my belongings?”

“I thought you'd want them with you.” Xanxus shrugged, a thrill coming as he saw the wavering patience. “You're staying here, after all.”

“I am doing no such thing.” The Sun snapped, standing tall and broadening his shoulders.

Lips curled into a grin as wine eyes danced with carnal engagement, the thrum of a threat hummed ow in the base of his skull, fingers curling as he could almost see the coiling fire that no doubt laid in the core of the handsome terror before him, spluttering with a barely tamed rage.

“I have things to go back to, my mother, my friends-”

“Friends?” Xanxus scoffed, before letting out a harsh laugh. “Those stinkin’ trash aren’t worth anything, they don’t know who you are. Who you really are.”

“You think you do? You’ve been absent for years.” Daiki gritted, collecting himself slightly.

The Sky twitched at that, intent on ripping down the defences and bringing out the godly monster he knew resided underneath that polished porcelain layer.

“I know a lot more than they do. I know about that fire that burns, the one you try to smother every single day.” He sneered, seeing hands slowly clench. “You try to contain yourself for those idiots-”

“I do not. I contain myself because I am sane. It’s called ‘impulse control’, perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

“If you’re so sane, then why do you have these urges?” Xanxus shot back, narrowing his eyes in mirth as he watched the rising tension in the other’s shoulders.

An elastic band being pulled taut.

“You’re one of us, Daiki. One of mine.”

“I am not a Varia.” Daiki hissed, bristling full force.

Wine eyes widened as the older boy moved forwards, amber-earth melting into a boiling molten gold, pools of generous fire swimming with beautifully complementary rage. Muscles shifted with rippling tension, the Sky’s mind flashing back to the lethal manner predator's bodies slunk between the grass in a country far away.

Xanxus bit his teeth together to hide the giddy jolt that tapped at his dopamine as a hand slammed down beside his head, the booming noise nearly blasting out his ear and making the hard wood of his chair groan in a personified pain. Heat radiated off the limb, copper-tan skin a conductor for the currents, sending sparks of thrill into the Sky’s own skin and make him tempted to lean against it.

“I don’t know what you’ve been doing all these years, but I’ve got my own life to run now. I was your friend when we were children, but now I will not be dragged into your messes anymore.”

“You knew about the Varia.” He commented, slightly distracted but not willing to show it.

“Anyone who doesn’t is a fool. You forget, I was raised in the same climate as you.” Daiki huffed, before bringing his hand over and pinching the wrathful boy’s chin, tilting his head up to see. “And subtle was never really your calling card.”

“Neither was yours.” Xanxus scoffed, feeling scaldingly cold fingers clean off the gleam of alcohol from his lips. “I remember a certain store front being set on fire one day after a kid was found dead.”

Precious metal narrowed at him, though a gleam of smoky mirth came through the videos pits.

“The poor boy didn’t deserve what that woman did to him.”

“Nonetheless, when her store was investigated, the murder weapon was found.”

Daiki shrugged before stepping back, stretching wide and groaning. He turned away from the observing Sky and bent his elbow over his head, allowing wine eyes to see the strong outline of a pair of broad shoulder blades.

“Guess I’ll see you around then, I’ve got a test tomorrow. Final exams and all that.”

The wrathful teen watched as he walked from the room, not bothering to move from his chair as the door gave a click as it shut behind the Sun. He frowned to himself in the silent room, casting his eyes over to the indent left in the bed from the hours spent under the other’s weight. Xanxus stood from his chair and sauntered across the room, standing at the bedside with a flatline expression, unreadable in every aspect. He breathed out through his nose after a moment before shrugging off his jacket and tossing himself onto the body warmed sheets.

If he pressed his nose into the pillow, inhaling the lingering scent of the baker’s boy, there was no one to testify as such.


“Haha, wow, that was a hard one!”

“Yeah, God, I completely forgot the name of my related text until the very end! I had to go back through and fill in the spaces I had left!” Daiki laughed to his friend, the boy cackling at his misfortune.

“Ah, but,” The Sun stretched his arms over his head and relished the warm sunshine. “Exams are over- finally.”

“What’re you planning for the holidays?” The other boy asked, checking his phone for any missed activity.

“Sleep. Forever.”

“Same, man. Same.”

“I might plan a thing with Jess, though. Haven’t seen her since exam season started.” Daiki hummed, getting a clap on the back.

“Ay, get some boy!”

“Nah mate,” He denied, shaking his head as they walked away from the hall and picked up their bags. “She’s got someone new again.”

“Oh? Guy or girl this time?” He asked.



Daiki took a deep breath and let out a loud, grating noise, stress from the season escaping in the form of a muffled screech. His spine cracked and popped as he rolled his shoulders, bag weighing heavy on one shoulder. The low, white roar of collective voices sounded through the school, students sighing in relief or crying out in despair. It was, in a sense, rather calming, compared to the almost tangible anxiety that saturated the air when they had collected outside the doors, notes in hand.


Amber-earth eyes widened as a cold wash dropped over Daiki’s body, the year turning to the howl in confusion. The Sun carefully looked over his shoulder along with his friend, obscured by the crowd and safe from view as he saw a young Squalo, hair cropped short and shiny as the metal that clipped his jacket.

“The fuck is he at?! Boss is going to throw a fucking tantrum if we don’t find him!” The Rain snapped, shooting the short Belphagor a sneer as he was giggled at.

“We’ll find him, we’ll find him. No one can outrun the prince.”

Teeth gritted inside the rogue’s mouth as he fought the desire to bolt blatantly, but instead held back the sigh of relief when his friend offered the idea.

“Hey, these guys are kinda...weird. Let’s go, you catching the bus?”

“Yeah, maybe they’re looking for a friend or something.”

Both of them turned and prepared to leave, waving at their other friends as they carefully moved through the mass, popular attention focused on the shouting Mafia men.

“You know what?! Fuck it!” Squalo roared, before stomping his booted foot against the concrete. “Yamaguchi Daiki! Get your ass over here!”

Daiki cursed quietly as his friend whipped around to look at him, baffled, before the rest of the crowd followed suit, creating vectors with their eyes and opening a path for the duo to see the softly face palming Sun.

“Shishishishishi, I told you, no one can run from the prince.”

Squalo stepped forwards, the flash of metal within his sleeve warning enough to the rogue.

“The fucking Boss wants you. Hurry up, I don’t have all fucking day.”

“Hm...” Daiki hummed, thinking to himself for a moment.

He decided to bolt, blatantly.


A rush of adrenaline made the corner of Daiki’s lip twitch, a hint of a smile coming out as he vaulted off a wall, leaving him to run at full speed past far backed traffic, suddenly grateful he didn’t take the bus. Feet pounded the pavement as he dashed along the walkway, people sending him glances of confusion but brushing him off as he melded into the crowd, the shouts of the Varia telling him he had lost them- even if only for now.

“God damn Varia,” Daiki hissed to himself, Japanese falling off his tongue. “What’s his problem?”

A flash of silver made his breath quiet before he ducked into a store, the attendant busy with another and not noticing him. The Sun breathed steadily for a moment, watching the Rain glance around before moving on. He sighed before stepping out and going in the opposite direction, crossing the street to the other side as an extra measure.

Daiki let his newly bought lolly clack against his teeth as he walked through the back alleyways, long familiar with the layout. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he passed a wall with nail marks scratching down the lower base, a huff of conspiratorial amusement leaving him, memories of certain events buzzing in his skull. A light jump allowed him to get over a small stream of some mysterious, rather odorous liquid of an origin he’d rather not learn, before he paused.

ザンザスそして 大輝

Xanxus e Daiki

Xanxus ran his fingers over the etched words, the carvings worn with time. Dirt and gravel coming off onto his pads, an unidentifiable expression marring his face.

“I thought I’d find you.” He breathed, eventually turning bloody ruby to amber encrusted gold.

He was met with a careful frown, a step of caution making Daiki engage his muscles in an effort to prepare to flee. Both boys in the ally knew that Daiki, as he was, untrained and civilian, would stand no chance against the Sky, and that all he had to rely on was the fresh memory of the winding corridors of humid stone and the speed of his own legs.

“What do you want?” He grunted, his words clipped.

Xanxus lowered his hand from the wall and turned to face him, feet slowly carrying him across the distance until he was less than an arm’s length away. A deep inhale allowed the wrathful boy the familiar scent he had carved into his memory, caramel, sugar, wood smoke and body wash all making an addicting odour that hooked his senses. Daiki raised an eyebrow, perhaps seeing the steady dilation of voideous pupils that expanded out into the bloody pools.

“You left without my permission.”

"I told you I would, you have no reason to be upset." The Sun dismissed.

Amber-earth eyes narrowed as Xanxus stepped forwards the finally distance, forcing the shorter Sky to tilt his head slightly to be able to keep those riches in his sights.

“Xanxus.” He gritted, the name rolling off his tongue in such a thick manner, the Sky himself swore he could taste it when he breathed in the air.

“What,” Daiki stressed, gritting his teeth down at him. “Do you want?”

Xanxus stared up at him with a harsh expression, but eyes, startlingly clear. The faint sound of teeth clacking behind lips reached his ears as the jaw, wrapped in copper skin, tense.

“Fall under my sky.”

Chapter Text

Word Count: 1805



Xanxus gritted his teeth and slammed down his crystal glass cup, the fiery liquid within sloshing up dangerously as he directed an equally fiery look to the strong figure leaning on the far windowsill, arms of corded muscle crossed as dark cobalt was tussled by a slight wind.


“You’re being stubborn.”


Daiki didn’t respond, golden encrusted amber staring steadfast out the huge window that dominated the wall. He had been like that for the three days of his return, the Sky having confined him to the Varia quarters- or more specifically, his own.


“How long are you going to sulk, trash?” Xanxus scowled, his jacket billowing as he stormed across the room, boots heavy against the floor.


Hot fingers clamped onto the Sun’s strong jaw, dragging his face to come around to the Sky’s bloody wine eyes glaring down at flat amber, the elder of their pair keeping his face in a cold closure. There was no heat to singe his body, no threat to buzz in his nerves, no curl of the lip to pump liquid fire. Just a cold slate.


Daiki’s lips parted after a moment, and the Sky perked in interest, perhaps a bit of hope, before the Sun let out a quiet breath and pushed off the sill. He brushed past the Mafia teen without so much as a word and walked soundlessly up to the solid oak, four poster king bed that had been painstakingly forced into the wrathful Sky’s room. Toeing off his shoes, the silenced boy crawled onto the luxury mattress and settled for the night, curled on his side, back to his watcher.


Xanxus bared his teeth at the imposing back, wrenching the window shut and irritably kicked off his heavy boots, the leather pieces flying across the room to thud against the door. Giving a huff in the back of his throat, the wrathful Sky trudged over to the occupied bed and rounded the other side, effectively ruining the efforts put in place to ignore him.


A flash went through the younger teen’s mind, a winter chilled night and a wall to scale, the comfort of a body warmed bed and the begrudged acceptance into familiar arms.


The sheets were Egyptian and a thread count that could make a nobel faint, but for years they were cold when he came to them after hours in the snow, they didn't carry the same heavy scent that was adopted during golden eyed sleep, nor was there a weight that slanted across his waist.


Since his birthday, the Sky had lured many a man and woman between his sheets, a feeble, last ditch effort to replicate the all consuming atmosphere that he wished to bathe in at all moments of the day. However they all fell short, all did too much or not enough, pandering to the Vongola Heir or the attractive young catch.


In the end, they were kicked from his haven at impromptu and ungodly hours of the night once Xanxus deemed them useless to the cause.


Now, however, as he looked down as the stubbornly closed eyes of the Sun, he could already feel the contentment seeping into his bones, warm smell of the sleeping other filling his senses as he crawled closer. He lowered himself and forced the strong arms in front of him open, a soundless grunt of annoyance leaving his bed partner as he settled himself against the warmth, puppeteering the limbs to close around him, their grip falling loose as soon as his control released.


Despite their loosened state, they ultimately remained to bind him, albeit, hesitantly. The breath that washed over his skin faltered only minutely, and then there was weight, a begrudged curling that enshrouded the Sky in a spiteful embrace, making the wrathful teen smile in the shadows of their forms and nestle in closer.


“You like to kick up a fuss, but in the end you let me in.” He scoffed, victory dripping from his words in a golden dribble.


Daiki shifted, the hand draped along the Sky’s back carving nails into tanned flesh in a lazy warning.


“Shut up, Xanxus.”


The voice of the Varia Sky boomed through the halls of the Vongola Headquarters, the shout grating and rough with rage and held an edge of hysteria.



“Where is he!?”


Feet pounded marble, hardwood and carpeted floors, Varia low ranks frantically looking for a ‘he’, some ‘he’ that they had never seen nor heard of. All that the black clad men and women knew that if they didn’t find the man, they weren’t going to live to see the next sunrise.


Daiki, himself, glanced over his shoulder at the building of the Vongola Headquarters, his bag of things in his hand as he shrugged, only having faintly heard the roar of the Sky. He was wondering how long it would take for Xanxus to notice his disappearance, though he must say, he kind of hoped it would be detected faster. But, oh well, not his problem anymore.


The rogue Sun hummed quietly to himself as he continued through the courtyard of the Vongola land, high hedges and flourishing flora scaping the area pleasantly in the shadow of a crescent moon, giving something to view as he made his steady escape.


“It’s a nice place isn’t it?” Lussuria crooned, coming out from behind a bush.


Daiki cast the feminine man a look, arms tensing and the metal binding his wrists hugging closer at the flex.


“Yes,” He agreed, nodding slightly. “It is.”


The Varia bonded Sun smiled and opened his arms, a loud, dramatically wistful sigh leaving him as he spun around the tense fellow Flame, amber encrusted gold following the way his feather lined coat billowed. His sunglasses flashed with moonlight, head tilted back to take in the countryside sky, black canvas alight with pinpricks of dazzlement.


“Aren’t they beautiful?” He asked, reaching up gloved hands to the inky oblivion. “The stars.”


Daiki glanced up, catching the view in golden orbs.


“What we see is light that has long since left its source,” The teen breathed, “Most of what you are calling beautiful, is long since dead.”


Lussuria didn’t seem at all deterred by the harsh words, his smile remaining as he inhaled a long breath of cooled air, floral perfumes wafting about.


“Is that so bad?” He hummed, tilting his head to direct a shielded gaze at the younger Sun. “Does it take away from the view?”


Daiki didn’t glance this time, he looked. Head tilted back and throat exposed as he examined the higher plains, almost tricking himself into seeing texture in the void’s expanse.


“I...Suppose not.”


The crunch of gravel approached him slowly, gentle and clear, until he felt the radiation of warmth coming next to him.


“This is the part where you ask me to go back?”


“Haha,” Lussuria laughed, his voice grating, but not intentionally. “If you wouldn’t mind. He’ll be hard to calm down otherwise.”


Daiki sighed and looked over his shoulder at the illuminated building, the faint sounds of a rampaging teen and his hundreds of henchmen still reverberating from the distance.


“He’s fucking intolerable.” The rogue Sun scoffed, turning and making his way to his hissing thief.


Before he made it far, however, he paused, and sent his gaze to the still observing Lussuria. He cupped his hands around his lips and shouted out to him, not caring about being quiet anymore, now that he no longer aimed for escape.


“You’ve had a spider in your hair this whole time!”


The manly shrieks that followed were his accompanying symphony of return, the warm and hectic atmosphere of the Vongola Headquarters opening up to him as he stepped through, masked ranks glancing at him in caution and hostility.


“Tell Xanxus that he can stop whining, I just went out for a walk.” He huffed.



Across the hearth heated space of the second living room, Daiki sighed and rolled liquid gold eyes, reclined into the lush couch he had claimed solely for himself that evening, the warm fragrance of burning wood filling the room in a cosy manner, creating a relaxing atmosphere that tempted him with a late afternoon napping.


That was, well, if Xanxus wasn’t kicking up a fucking fuss again.


Wine eyes flashed with aggravation and distaste as his father’s men attempted to coo him into his bath. He didn’t need urging, he wasn’t any sort of ripe, another day without being forced into the water and go through the process wouldn’t devastate the fucking underground.


He huffed and ranted, but both he and his rich eyed observer knew the real reason for his reluctance. The habits drilled into the past thief were still fresh in his blood, the avoidance of bathing during the winter was a main one, with the risk of illness following the submersion of water both biting cold and of dubious origins.


Bloody ruby and precious amber clashed across the room, the air hot with the hearth between them as they sat in lazing positions, tension clawing at the undersides of their masks. Copper skin shone with Promethean fire, his uniform foregone for more comfortable clothing, donated and forced onto his frame by the larger Sun.


“Please Xanxus, just a quick one-”


“Oh my God .” Daiki snapped, ending the back and forth the two had shared.


The men jumped at the gravelled voice, either having forgotten the presence of the unnamed being or surprised that they would interfere.


Xanxus felt the pressure before it actually happened, the cold clasp of the rogue Sun’s hands a welcome pain as he was all but ripped from his little throne, his hip knocking against a table edge as the elder dragged him from the room. His lips twitched with thrill as his eyes widened, carnal delight singing in his blood as an electric current streamed through their skins, fire dancing upon fire.


The Daiki he knew was showing through again. The godly monster that reigned in the consciousness of Wrath was coming to claim his barbed crown.


His breath picked up as he was bodily thrown into the tiled wall of the bathroom, cranium cracking against the hard surface and dousing him with a sharp pain. Closing his eyes agains the starlight that danced in his vision, he waited for the breathlessness that would arrive, the hands that would conduct him and constrict, bring forth the sweet bile to his tongue as he gasped fruitlessly.


The door slammed shut with a resounding thunder clap, floor shaking with the ferocity, and the frame groaning in pain.


Xanxus stared, mind slowly piecing together his loneliness, a towel discarded on the floor and his spare clothes dropped haphazardly without a care.


The throne was empty still. The crown still waited to be coronated.


Xanxus blew up the sink.


Chapter Text

Word Count: 3367


Xanxus snarled his teeth to the air as he snapped his gaze around the room, the place empty of the Sun and his copper shine, space as much of a void as the skies above were. The paper in his hand crumpled and wheezed as it fell to fire, curling in on itself. Turning on his heel, the Sky barged from the room, his coat billowing in the wind he created with feral speed. HIs eyes cut into everyone in his vision, people flinching away from the raging Boss as he stormed past.  


“Where is he?” Xanxus growled, bursting into the main living room.


Squalo looked up from his sword, the thing all but cradled in his hands as he polished it lovingly. He raised a silvery eyebrow at his Sky, bearing down on the urge to roll his eyes at him.


“You’re looking for that fucking pretty boy? He’s down in the library.” He huffed, waving off the papers chucked at his head, all too used to his behaviour and constant askance of the rogue Sun.


Xanxus nodded with begrudged thanks before heading for the library, his anger simmering with fresh tinder, new reason for his disgruntled nature to bloom forth. He made it to the great room in good time, having met no obstacles along the way, Varia low ranks having plastered themselves like insects against the walls. With a mighty boom, the doors were forced open, making way for the wrathful Sky to glare down isles of knowledge and parchment.




Wine eyes narrowed as his belly boiled with a sour slosh, jaw locking as the wrathful sky took in the scene. Belphegor was balanced atop a small step ladder, hands perched on his seat as his knees bent in the small space, his grin as wide and mocking as usual as he watched the rogue Sun finger the spines of books, a small pile building on his left forearm. The illusive baker’s son seemed not in the least ill at ease with the snickering Storm lurking behind him, focus drawn to pulling out and then replacing texts with a concentrated glaze in his eye.


“You’re locked in a building with some of the most dangerous men in the world, Ottone, and yet you’re still studying?” The little blond Storm giggled, being very amused by the man before him.


“You may have kidnapped me, but I’m still in exam season. I have essays to study for.“ Daiki answered simply, reaching higher to grasp another thick text before placing it on his stack.


Belphegor cackled as the Sun brushed past him to find a table, placing down his chosen texts and taking a bunch of loose sheets from a Varia hand who stumbled away as if confused. Daiki took the top book off the tower and read through it whilst scrawling across the lines, not so much as glancing away as the Storm pranced over to sit on the desk next to him, looming over his shoulder to read the sharp, cursive writing.


“Are you coming? Or are you just going to continue standing there.” He called out whilst turning the page, his finger guiding his eyes. “Either way, please choose quickly, you’re vaguely distracting.”


Xanxus thinned his lips in a scowl before thudding his way over, footsteps echoing in the large room and labyrinth halls.He huffed as he came to a stop beside the rogue, brow furrowed in a default grim. He crossed his arms beneath his draped jacket and towered ominously over the two Flames, Belphegor still grinning, but shrinking away as time went on, feeling the friction that went between the two older men before him.


“You left without my permission.” Xanxus grunted.


“I told you I would, so you have no reason to be upset.” Daiki responded.


The words were exchanged without missing a beat, rehearsed and remembered from years before, the dust brushed of with the reuse. The Sky growled a low note, though not one of hostility, and rounded the table, thunking down on the chair across from the Sun and rocking back on the hind legs, kicking his feet up to slam his heels just short of the pristine writing paper.


“Why’s the brat calling you ‘Ottone’?” He asked, sending a sideways glance at the grinning prince.


“Ottone, as in brass.” Was the simple answer provided by the Sun.


“His brass knuckles, of course!” Came the cackling, the little Storm reaching over to raise the simple white dress shirt, showing a pair of handheld weaponry chained to the belt loops of the baker’s pants. “And his brass forearms guards!”


“I'm honestly surprised you found them,” Daiki hummed, letting the prince fiddle and tap the curls of metal hugging his wrist.


Xanxus narrowed his eyes, imagining the bite that those would bring to skin, the teeth-rattling grind that it would do to bone.


“When did you get that?”


“A couple years after.”




There was a long stretch of silence, only filled with the continuous scratching of pencil on paper and the flipping of pages both loose and printed. Belphegor shuffled until he was on his stomach, legs kicking behind him as he laid his head near the ever scrawling hand, hidden eyes watching the way bones shifted beneath copper-bronze skin in a lazy fascination.


“You and Squalo, you’re both in school, right?” Daiki spoke suddenly, almost making the Storm jump.


“What about it?” Xanxus scowled, cracking his eyes open.


“Shouldn’t you have homework then?”


When there was a beat of stubborn silence, Daiki looked up, pinning the Sky with molten gold that dripped with the faintest whirl of amusement, but easily hidden beneath a layer of dispassionate oil.


“What homework do you have?” He asked, hiding the slight twitch of his lip well.


“...History. English.” The Wrathful boy muttered, looking to the side. “Maths.”


The Sun raised an eyebrow before glancing to Belphegor who was snickering to himself.


“And what about you?”


“The prince is a genius, I don’t do homework, Ottone.” He scoffed.


“That doesn’t mean you don’t have it.” Daiki hummed, placing down his pen and creating a bridge for his chin to settle on. “Go and get it Bel.”


The Storm huffed but got up and pranced out of the room, leaving behind a gritting Sky and a dismissive Sun. Not the best combination.


“Since when did you call the little shit ‘Bel’?” Xanxus bit out, grinding his glare into Daiki’s cranium.


“Since I decided his name was too long to say repetitively comfortably.” Was the answer he received, the gold encrusted amber still evading boiling ruby.


The wrathful Mafia scowled at the baker across from him, hating the air of ease that bubbled viciously around the settled Sun, irritated by the calm. Where was his rage? Where was his loathing?


Wine eyes dropped to the hands that bridged under his chin, seeing the strong structure, kissed by sunshine and work.


“Well? Why haven't you left?” He asked suddenly, snapping the Sky from his thoughts.


“What?” Xanxus hissed, his body bristling at the idea of being dismissed.


“Your homework.” Daiki breathed, completely unfazed by the threat before him. “Why haven’t you gone to get your homework. Is your attention span really that limited?”


He took up his pen again and proceeded with his work, scrawling fine lines of blue ink into the page, ending the conversation on his terms. Xanxus scowled and got to his feet.


“Remember to bring that Squalo with you as well.”



“X equals four-point seven-three.” Xanxus huffed, leaning back as he felt the molten heat of Daiki’s body radiating onto his right side, having sat closer to the Sun.


“Hm,” He hummed, jaw in his palm as he gazed at the Sky with lazy eyes. “So you’re not dumb.”


“Of course he’s not.” Squalo scowled, over on the other side of the copper skinned form.


“You never know when it comes to him.” Daiki shrugged, tapping the desk with blunt nails.


Lussuria giggled from across the table, Bel by his side as he helped him create a paper mache diorama for his assignment, Leviathan grumbling at the glue that had been tossed into his hair.


“That looks nothing like the Bank of Italy.” Mammon tisked, floating above the mushy mess with distaste.


“It’s been blown up!” Belphegor snickered, waving his sticky hands up at the rogue Arcobaleno.


Daiki didn’t seem bothered by the young Storm’s macabre creation, still very engrossed in own own work, the pile of books he had claimed slowly being whittled away. His back was straight, and amber encrusted gold were alight with focus from behind panels of framed glass, his pen pressed to his lips in thought, drawing Xanxus’ attention to the vermillion flesh.


He huffed and slumped against the side of the Sun, feeling the warmth seep into his side. Daiki paused his scripting, but didn’t shove him off in a disgruntled manner like he expected, nor did he welcome him. Daiki just left him to do as he wished, neither accommodating nor rejecting. Just being.


“What exam are you studying for, Daiki?” Lussuria asked, holding up the crumbling structure for the grinning child.


“Economics.” He hummed, looking pointedly to Mammon. “I was hoping that I could get some help on this. It’s never truly been my strong point.”


“Hm, my labours do not come free. You’ll have to pay me for tutoring.” The Mist huffed, regarding the other out of the corner of their eye.


“I thought so,” Daiki sighed, before tilting his head to focus on the script before him. “I’ve been uprooted, I have nothing of any worth.”


“Well then.” Mammon grimaced at him, a screw up of the lips and the caving in of a cheek before they floated over to hover above the shoulder of the baker’s son. “Since you’re new, I’ll give you the first one off. But you’ll have to owe me a favour, instead.”


“I can bake for you, it costs less than buying it.” He offered, raising an eyebrow up at the being.


“I believe we have a deal.” Was the response, interest just barely evident.


“Wonderful, now, do you mind explaining this to me again? I was absent for this lesson and the textbook is lacklustre in its examples.”


Xanxus huffed before crossing his arms and closing his eyes, head coming to fall on the broad shoulder of his stolen companion as he relaxed in the familiar atmosphere, the usual chaos a welcome pain in his ears. Caramel and sunshine filled his nose as he inhaled a settling breath, wood smoke and sugar following in undertones as the bronze form shifted for another wave. His nose tingled at the old smell, like having opened a forgotten book, nostalgic words woven into bodily perfumes.


There was weight suddenly, a warm heavy on the rise of his skyward temple. He felt his hair shift with a steady breeze, as Daiki exhaled a low note of absence. He relaxed his tension, but his lips remained thinned in a kind of stress, blood singing in a different manner than he was used to. Xanxus huffed at the ridiculous nature of human reaction before closing his eyes again, ignoring the coy smile Lussuria sent between the two, preferring to bask in the sunshine.


“Oh, what’s this?”


Glass shattered. The twisting, malformed peace that they had accomplished was stuck against a wall and the fragility of it realised as the old, grating voice rung out. Daiki shifted to sit up, cold seeping into the Sky’s bones and chilling him to the core like bare feet in snow sludge, biting at his skin and gnawing at his mind.


“Vongola Ninth!” Squalo shouted, greeting the man for them as Timoteo walked up, his cane clacking against the floor in an agitating ‘click’ ’click’ ‘click’.


“This guy...” Daiki breathed, their closeness allowing him to hear the tapered comment.


“Old man.” He huffed, not bothering to remove himself from his lazy position.


“Do my eyes deceive me? My Xanxus, doing homework? My, should I prepare for an early snowfall tomorrow?”


“Boss got talked into it by Ottone here!” Belphegor snickered, peeling PVA glue from his hands in skin-like strips.


“Ottone?” Timoteo repeated, searching the Family, before landing warm brown eyes on the alien Sun. “I don’t think I’ve met you before! I’m Xanxus’ father, Timoteo di Vongola.”


“Don’t think you had much of a chance, sir. Your son had me kidnapped from my exam hall.” Daiki responded scathingly, yet somehow civilly.


“Kidnapped, you say?” The Vongola Ninth hummed, glancing down at the stubbornly resisting Sky.


“Guess he never got out of that habit.” Daiki hummed, shoving the lazing wrath off and causing him to topple to the floor. “He used to do the same when I was in Elementary school.”


“You didn’t cause such a fucking fuss back then.” Xanxus spat, sitting up and glaring mightily at him.


“Because you didn’t steal me from my home as well, I always made it back by night.” Was the huffed response, the pen meeting his paper again in dismissal.


Timoteo glanced between them in a moment of slow cognition, before his eyes widened and he straightened.


“Could...Could you be Daiki?”


Xanus paused when gold plated suspicion and surprise fell on him for a moment, before they turned back on the Vongola Sky, head of cobalt inclining slightly.


“Yes, I’m Daiki Yamaguchi.” He answered, ignoring how the wrathful Varia Boss set himself back down at his side as if he wasn’t just pushed off the seat.


The old Vongola smiled then, a warm, fatherly thing as he came closer and stood behind the careful Sun, both hands on his cane as he looked down at the two.


“So you’re the one Xanxus used to throw tantrums about.” He laughed gently, “He used to scream about you all the time.”


Daiki pursed his lips in a moment of consideration, glancing down at the huffing Wrath who refused to be budged.


“Did he now...”


“Mhm,” Timoteo nodded, “Though he never told us your name, refused to actually. But he grumbled it a lot, it was so cute.”


The baker raised an eyebrow at that, before looking at the sour expression that marred Xanxus’ face. His arms were crossed in an almost childish manner as he glared off at the far wall in a huff.


“Cute and this one...Never could make that connection.” Daiki hummed, making the Sky sit up and turn his glare on him instead.


“You’re not that easy on the eyes easier, fucker.” He spat, though there was no true bite to his words.


“Tell that to my partners.”


Xanxus scoffed and returned to his previous position, laying heavily on the other to prove that getting rid of him was only counter productive. Daiki rolled his eyes and rammed his elbow into his side, making him jolt and snap his teeth at the copper-tan being.


“I bet I’ve had more people in my bed than you.” He snipped at him as he fought the urge to nurse his side.


“Oh no, have you really just been restricting yourself to a bed?”


Lussuria whooped loudly and Squalo released a shrieking laughter, his hand coming down on the desk to cause loud bangs that resounded in the room. Xanxus scowled at having his words turned on his so easily, mentally bashing himself over the head for forgetting how easily Daiki was able to twist sentences like they were physical strings in his hands. Timoteo coughed to hide his laughter, hand cupping over his mouth in an attempt to keep his illusion of maturity, but everyone knew the humour bubbling in his throat.


Xanxus scowled at the Sun who continued to work, not once having raised his eyes nor stopped his scrawling during the exchange, mind neither derailed nor distracted by the happenings around him.


“Asshole.” He spat.


“One you’ll never get to.” Was the hum of response.


The Wrathful Sky paused, before he let his lips curl, immediately seeing the way Daiki reacted, tension coming to life in his shoulders as he engaged for a scenario after scenario. Xanxus reached out and hooked his arm around the board set of shoulders, hands coming to grasp cobalt hair in a tight grip and yank the Sun’s ear to his lips.


“We’ll see about that, Daiki.”


There was a moment of registration, dark gold eyes still looking at the desk in a passive understanding, before a sharp elbow rammed into the Sky’s jaw and knocked him off the stools, his head cracking against the polished marble as his teeth clacked a spangle of white fire stars.


“Shut up Xanxus.”




Mammon floated about the kitchen, watching the baker’s son find his way about the large space, three low ranked Varia grunts at his disposal but yet to be used. The Arcobaleno hummed a noise as their fellow rogue Flame took quantities of ingredients and kneaded them to a large mass of completion, before separating it into a dozen equal parts in practised movements.


“What are you making?” They asked, coming down to shoulder height, mentally gauging the costs of each quantity taken so far for later comparison.


“Just some basic breads, a tester to see if you all actually even like my way of baking.” Daiki responded, placing the parts of dough on a tray and shoving the lot into a preheated oven. “Now, you all of you help me clean this up please.”


The three who had been standing like mannequins in the corner suddenly creaked to life, stepping out to gather up bowls, spoons and bags of ingredients to take away and cleanse as the Sun wiped down the counter surface of any stray flour.


“How long will this take?”


“Roughly 30 minutes.”


The Arcobaleno huffed and came down to hover just before the baker’s son, eyeing him critically from beneath their hood.


“Yes?” He hummed looking up from towelling off his hands, leaning back against the counter. “Is there something wrong?”


“You seem very at ease with your situation.” Mammon said plainly, never one to hide his intentions truly. “Despite it being a very precarious one, indeed.”


Daiki huffed a laugh before tossing the towel off onto the tabletop, his hands grasping the edge of the marble slab lazily.


“I think you’ve misread this, Mammon.” He breathed, “There is nothing precarious about the situation, I can leave whenever I want, and Xanxus knows that.”


The Arcobaleno stared through the shadowed void at the easy boy before him, lip twitching in consideration of his words.


“Then why haven’t you?”


The Sun hummed in thought, pushing off the counter to check the oven, bending slightly at the waist to peer into it.


“You could consider it a respect to an old friend, or as something of a more personal benefit.” He answered, smirk reflecting in the glass.


Mammon watched him as he nodded at the bread, before floating off, deciding to leave the teen to his devices, knowing they’d gain nothing more from this Sun.


Daiki huffed to himself as he felt the room become vacated save himself, wondering since when he let this part of himself slip through, but already knowing exactly when his porcelain had cracked, the name ‘Xanxus’ all over it in furious clawings.


Time passed before he removed the bread from the oven, placing it down to set and cool on a little rack he had found in the far corners of the kitchen. He turned his back to close and turn off the oven, fanning it for a moment to cool the interior, before returning to the counter and pausing.


Closing his eyes, Daiki took deep, settling breaths, his brow twitching an old echo as he tried to ignore the two, mysteriously vanished loaves of bread. Despite it, he couldn't hold down the curl of his lips, and the slow, methodical cracking of his knuckles. Under the familiar ticking in the back of his mind, he couldn’t deny the nostalgia, almost fond huff that escaped him. He inhaled and puffed his chest, shoulders raising to improve capacity before he roared in a manner he thought he had long forgotten.



Chapter Text


(X) Chapter Warning: Sexual Content  (X)


Word Count: 1879



“Hi kaa-san.” Daiki chimed, leaning against the window frame in the room, Xanxus watching him from the bed.


The rogue Sun’s phone had released an abrasive noise upon the morning and broken the peace the two had fallen in, and what was once quiet slumber, was now a distance and a talk. Xanxus thinned his lips and leant up against the headboard, arms crossed as he observed the other in early morning’s dark halo.


“Yes, I’m still studying, Economics, Physics and Chemistry are all done now. I have Maths and Extension English up next.” He continued, nodding to unheard words. “Mhm, is Todd still helping you? That’s good, be careful though.”


There were a few more moments of silence on their end, the little clock an obnoxious noise in the silence of the inverted twilight.


“Okay, I miss you too, kaa-san, I’ll be home soon. Love you too, be safe.” Daiki hummed.


Xanxus blinked as the Sun stood from the little nook he had managed to balance on, phone cast onto the small table with a clacking. Golden eyes, lit with the shadowed luminescence of dark morning were brought to the half empty bed, a lazily looking being sent back. The Sky made a noise before laying himself back down, still facing the standing rogue, waiting for the warmth to return.


Daiki walked from the room and closed the bathroom door behind him, the sound loud and offensive. He had no intention of returning to the bed. Xanxus scowled and got up too.

“Don't you dare.” Xanxus growled, wine eyes melting into a boiling swirl of ruby and blood.


Squalo was fingering the hilt of his blade in preparation, not quite taking a hold of it, just in case he was required to thrust his hands forwards to save the threated creature. Lussuria was holding his breath at the back of the room, his brows furrowed in worry, Belphegor gritting his teeth in a grin, Mammon floating unsure and weary at their shoulder. Leviathan had his hand one of his umbrellas, face pulled with stress.


He had been the one to let Daiki out of his glorified cage.


“VOOIII!” Squalo roared, at the side of the Sky. “What the fuck do you think you're doing!?”


Daiki pursed his lips, unaffected by the tension of the moment.


“You lot are meant to be at school.” He stated, for the fifth time in the ordeal. “Skipping will do you no good in the long run.”


“Tch,” Xanxus scoffed. “I will not mingle with that trash.”


Daiki raised an eyebrow, he let his hand slip a little more.


“Wait! Wait! Fuck!” The Rain shouted, before rounding on his Sky. “Boss, it's not worth it. Let's just go for the day.”


Xanxus curled his lips in a scowl, hating and loving how Daiki watched on, absolutely radiating an air thick and saturated with known victory and satisfaction.


“Boss,” Mammon spoke, flying forwards to their place. “The loss would be a fair one. I suggest- no, I would prefer a deal be struck with the boy.”


The Varia Sky bared his teeth at the Family members who spoke to him, before pausing and sending a glance to the hostage. He thinned his lips over sharp canines before growling and tucking his chin into his chest in a show of hostility.


“Fine.” He spat.


Daiki smile. And dropped the liquor cabinet out the window.


“You shouldn’t be drinking anyway.”


The words were accompanied by a thousand dollar, polished mahogany crash.



The Varia held their chin’s high as they walked onto the scene, the Mafia riddled school yard giving them fearful, respectful and curious looks, not used to the usually truant students to appear at the establishment. Squalo scowled at the onlookers while Xanxus paid them no mind, instead boring holes out of molten ruby at the rogue Sun.


“Timoteo will come and pick you all up after the bell goes to make sure you all didn’t leave as soon as I turn my back.” Daiki announced, his arms crossed as Lussuria wrestled Belphegor out of the car, the child whining and kicking his legs. “That goes for you too, Bel.”


“I’m a prince, Ottone! I do not attend school with plebeians!”


“You’re enrolled, so you do now.” Was the brush off. “I’ll see you all after I’m done, and I’ll be asking your Vongola Boss if you skipped.”


Xanxus glared after the car as it carried the elder Varia and spare Sun off to the public schools, Daiki required to attend three exams from the next hour.


“Fucking hell, why’d you have to bring that pretty bastard, Boss?” Squalo huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets.


“Let’s just get this over with.” The Sky scowled, turning on his heel and storming the school.



Sheets shifted as the wrathful Sky threw his dam body against the bed, freshly stripped of the towel and clad in loose night pants, his top unclothed and still shiny with water, uncaring if Egyptian cotton was tarnished, another set being an easy buy. No, right now his mind was too clouded, even if the remedy was simple, his breath was too thick and his skin was to warm as his thoughts swam and made him close brilliant blood from a peach lit ceiling.


His door was locked, leaving him alone in a crackling seclusion and allowing the silence whisper things to him. The Mafia rolled himself onto his front, hair askew and braided with feathers, the bright hanging shifting as he froze, before rutting, having pressed his nose into the ghost of the Sun.


Oh, wrap him up and break him.


Xanxus grasped the phantom pillow and tossed himself onto his back, the action forceful and causing a jar to come to his shoulder, but only a hint of what he wanted. His arm bent backwards to hold the case to his nose, mildly suffocating as he inhaled deeper, mind flashing to before, to the scene that had plagued his head and scratched at the inner walls of his cranium all through the class, calculus cast aside of callous.


A low growl escaped him, feral and angry as he remembered the cabinet dropped from the window, lost to the earth on a wet, alcoholic and fractured mess of wood and glass, unsalvageable from the fall. Then he snapped his teeth at the soft casing, remembering what made his blood boil, and insides shift to accommodate a physical craving.


Xanxus remembered the breath hitch and the knee knock of the moment Daiki has lifted the solid mahogany piece, brimming with wine, brandy, scotch, spirits, tequila, vodka, rum, gin and all else. The thing, he knew, weighed a hefty number, needing four bulky men to bring it in empty. But Daiki had lifted it alone, muscles shifting and rolling beneath copper-tan skin, pearl shards of teeth gritting to bare and his brow furrowing wonderfully as he brought it off the ground and moved with it to the window.


With another breath, he remembered how honey drizzled gold had swum with mirth and annoyance, mixing together in a vicious cocktail that made his hips buck, the cloth too tight for the bitter swelling the hurt so marvellously when it grated against the fine fabrics. He hissed as victory raked itself in thick layers through the Sun’s aura, success a heavy odour and perfume for the panting Sky as he tried to recapture the lazy satisfaction that had painted the baker before the Mafia.


Daiki had gotten stronger, he had gotten bigger, it dazzled and dazed the Wrath, making him want to learn the terra incognita, terra nullius, terra sancta. Learn, claim and taint. To do and to be. So much, so much, so much.


Eat him alive and grind him between his teeth.


His body shivered and his skin pebbled as he tapped at his creativity, shutting his eye to wretched reality and opening them to another alternative, etching the scene of the shifting plains of brass skin over rolling muscles and moving shoulder blades as the Sun, warm as the namesake itself, crawled atop the strewn Sky. Waves of caramel, sun heat, sugar and the hefty odour of female arousal swarmed and saturate his senses, making his breath a heavy exhale. Vermillion lips were curled in a cruel smile, the creature above him knowing full well that there would be no losses here, no matter how the cards were to fall.


And eyes, oh, eyes that hissed a Satan’s snake’s language of a history of hate that enveloped a love and a loathing. A deep seated craving and a need for a carving. Carnal and careful. Primal and primadonna. Putrid and perfumed. Golden and worshipable, beings in themselves and something that he could and would deify, a shrine built in their honour alone in a place of seclusion away from unworthy mortal understanding.


Hold him. Hold him. Hold him and hold him under the water until his lungs fill with honey and salivation.


The Sky gave a beautifully filthy curse as he buckled and caved, ridding himself of his lower layer and baring himself to the room, the chill forgone for an internal inferno of primitive origins as he clasped himself with brutal memory. He scowled at the state he was in and forced more of the scent into his system, loathing and loving the way it sank its teeth into his lungs, brain and heart, recrafting it to only breath in another’s image, and like a Lotus-eater he wanted nothing more than only his Lotus.


Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus!


Xanxus jolted and curled as his end ripped through him, sending his nerves into a sizzling tizzy and his vision into a white oblivion or a paradise. His bones moaned an age old song of satiation as his vertebrae lined up in a curve to match the circumference of their Earth, small as it may be but filled with his Lotus.


His mouth was agape in a silent scream for more, wanting a weight upon him and a hand around his neck in a secure embrace of his breath. He wanted more. He wanted the teeth in his shoulder, the nails in his scalp, the bruises on his skin and the bleeding lines along his chest. He wanted the biting words and soothing tongue, the harsh jut of an elbow in his stomach and the press of another’s core, hot and needy, but not willing to give until it was given.


A kiss, packed with poison and narcotics. Lips, painted a blush with the blood stolen from him. A caress, cupping his face and pouring acid upon it.


Everything. Every last Hydra venom petal. He wanted every drop on his tongue, bathe in the whole, young blood like Bathery. Love every burning moment, every saline tick of the clock as his body shuts down on itself, skin eroding in a Eitr pleasure. He’d let his jaw fall and calloused, tanned hands pour nectar down his open throat uncaring if it slides into his stomach or his lungs, just wanting it inside, the essence of his Lotus.


Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus. Lotus.


Daiki, his copper-bronze, gold and bitter-sweet Lotus.

Chapter Text

Word Count: 2,042

Xanxus opened his eyes immediately upon awakening. He stared clearly at the shifting space before his nose, watching the way it rose with breath, before letting out his own exhale, matching that of the slumbering Sun.

He sighed and laid in the warm, consuming embrace of the baker, feeling arms that had tightened subconsciously through the night and the press of them against his body. Ears strained in the silence, a quiet, heavy thud reaching him to allow his mind the rhythm of the rogue's heart, a steadfast thing without reign.

Xanxus glanced up at the sleeping other, before ever so carefully shuffling in closer, scenting the unique fragrance copper-tan had taken on in his slumber. He rested his head on Daiki's shoulder, slow exhales brushing the shell of his ear and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in sensation. He stopped when Daiki shifted, a deep groan escaping the Sun's vocals as if he had been disturbed. Xanxus watched with a low down desire for the man to remain in ignorance and sleep, but kept silent as golden amber cracked open, peering down at him in aggravation.

"Why are you moving so much?" He grumbled, rolling onto his back and patting around for his phone. "Fucking hell, it's only three."

He bared his teeth at the flux screen before tossing the device back onto the side table, hissing a curse indirectly at the Sky. Daiki scowled and turned back onto his side, wine eyes retaining their unaffected state as an arm coiled around the Wrath and dragged him without regard into the Sun.

Daiki huffed and arranged himself until he was comfortable again, a rumble of harsh warning leaving his throat as he threatened Xanxus against moving.

The Sky inhaled deeply, trapped under a heavy weight with the Sun mostly atop him, though still on their sides. He enjoyed it, however, the molten body heat that made him sweat and the mingling of scents that came with the skin upon skin. Xanxus sighed and relaxed, his arms coming out and curling around the form, denying with every breath how his lips bowed into a smile, nose buried into the baker's shoulder.

Daiki remained unmoved as he sat across from the Varia Lightning, the large man's face screwed up with concentration and stress as he drilled his eyes into the chessboard before him, baren of white pieces, and dominated by an army of black. The Sun fingered at his ivory graveyard as he waited for the Mafia man to make his turn, spinning the Queen absently between his fingers.

"Ha!" Leviathan shouted, eyes lighting up as he moved his last Knight to cover his King.

Daiki looked the board over and shifted his Rook.


All victory drained from the Lightning and he slumped, grumbling lowly as he tried to cover the piece again by moving his Knight.

"Can't do that. Check." Daiki breathed, not having lifted his hands from his graveyard.

Leviathan scowled retraced his move, going over it again with renewed tension, gritting his teeth with aggravation, arms crossed and back hunched. Daiki watched quietly, not disturbing his thoughts, and looked off to the side, pursing his lips when he saw Belphegor hanging upside down on the couch, feet pointing to the ceiling in boredom.

"Shishishishishi, just admit defeat, Levi, Ottone's got you caught." The Storm snickered.

"Hush Bel." The rogue Sun murmured, "He's doing very well, Leviathan's only just learnt how to play."

"Ha, it only took the prince an hour to master chess."

"And well done to you, but Leviathan is not you." Daiki sighed, looking back to the board.

The Lightning shrunk a little but moved his Pawn, sighing when it was also taken.


"Hm." He huffed, looking off. "I expected as much."

"Do you want to play something else?"

This made the man perk up, before he quickly dampened it and glared off to the side.

"I can play poker."

Belphegor sat up and slunk over to the table, grinning all the way as he produced cards from within a drawer. The door burst open and the Sun of their Family streaked into the room, crying out to the summons of the cards.

"Of course, I will be playing too." Mammon huffed, floating onto the scene.

Daiki glanced around at the new players, before sighing and directing them all to sit on the floor, the game table too small for the gained party.

"How many of you are going to try to cheat?" He asked, shuffling the cards in his hands.


"Notice that I said 'try', Bel."

Xanxus scowled when he came into the room, taking in the stripped-down nature of his Guardians, only Mammon and Daiki holding their pride.

"You're an embarrassment." He groaned, getting a whine from Lussuria and Leviathan.

Squalo had long since turned on his heel and escaped the room.

"Don't even try it." Daiki huffed, still kneading the heel of his palm into a fresh batch of dough.

Xanxus paused his reaching for the cooling rack and scowled, crossing his arms in annoyance at being caught again.

"You really haven't changed much at all, have you?" He sighed, an almost fond note to his words.

Xanxus glanced to him, before moving over and handing the baker a bag of chocolate. Amber encrusted gold looked to insistent ruby, a quick message going through, before the rogue sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I'll make you some choc chip biscuits."

The Sky's nod contained the barest of bounces, his craving for Yamaguchi style chocolate long since unsatisfied. He managed to hide it well, but Daiki could see how giddy he appeared as he sat on the stool across the counter, watching the baker work on his treat.

And Daiki hated to call it 'cute'.

Lussuria chattered away at Daiki in the small room, steam rising from the bath as the Varia Sun sorted through items and bottles.

"So, this is very good for the skin - especially if you've got the sensitive type. Oh, and this is great to get any impurities out and decrease stress levels."

"Okay." Daiki hummed plainly, but not disliking the enthusiasm the Sun showed.

"You're about to do that one big exam, yeah?"

"Two hour one." He nodded, making his fellow Flame hum in understanding.

"Use the de-stressing one."

Daiki thanked him quietly and took the salts, tinted pale blue, before disrobing, shrugging off the layers. Lussuria helped him the last few inches out of his binder before promising to send them to the staff to wash, getting a nod from the younger Sun.

A groan rippled from deep within Daiki's throat as he submerged himself in the poor excuse of a bath, its circle diameter large enough for him to lay completely flat along the bottom, let alone propped up on the slanted sides. He had missed the near scalding temperature of the baths in Japan, the Watanabe's private bath house being his favourite from when he had visited years ago, Italy never quite did it the same.

The Sun hummed to himself before reaching for the salts bottle and pouring a palmful in, watching it slowly dissolve as he screwed the cap back into place, the water slowly blooming hydrangea blue. He looked around for a moment, surveying the scene, before ducking his head a little and playing with the water's surface, making the flats ripple and wave.

"I am the Avatar." He muttered to himself childishly, splashing about in the large bath.

The teen continued the play for a while, creating whirles of powder blue and currents of cornflower. A small smile came to his lips as he cupped his hands, rivers of atmosphere dribbling down his arms before being unceremoniously dropped back into the waters.

There was a knock at the door.

Golden encrusted amber slashed across the room to the frame, narrowing them in suspicion, before Daiki relaxed and leant back against the edge of the bath.

Xanxus didn't wait for a response before he unlocked the door and pushed it open, tossing the key onto the counter in a show of victory.

"You apparently don't care for common decency." Daiki sighed, closing his eyes from the room. "At least close the door."

The Sky grunted but obliged and blocked out the rest of the world, sealing them away and only allowing ruby pools to drink up the scene of the Sun in a liquid sky. He watched the tiny grains of the horizon wash over copper-tan skin, little galaxies of granules painting across the hill of Daiki's bust.

"Now that you're here, what do you plan on doing?" He asked, catching an undissolved crystal and examining it in the light.

"It's been a long time," Xanxus started, instead of answering. "Since I've seen you without your disguise."

Daiki glanced at him.

"Since when was it a disguise?"

Xanxus didn't change his expression.

"Have you really become a boy then?"

Daiki cracked a smirk, before turning back to the salt crystal between his fingers. A little pressure was all it took for the Sun to crush the sky fractal.

The Sky narrowed his eyes for a moment, before shrugging off his jacket and letting it pool on the floor without a thought, his shirt and pants coming next, boots kicked to the side. Untangling the feathers from his hair, blue jay wings fluttering as they fell, he walked across the room and grasped the edge of the, lowering himself into the water.

Daiki stared at him for a moment, before huffing and shaking his head, eyes becoming closed as he exhaled.

Xanxus watched the other soak in the blue-tinted water, thoughts stirring in his mind as he observed the shape the other's body took on after the years. His arms were laid across the rim of the bath, opening the Sun's form for inspection and steam, volcanic bloodstone dragging rivets of appreciation down bronze skin. His form was a balance of feminine and masculine, easily mistakable for one or the other, depending on the lighting of one's perspective, perhaps a third could be added to the mix. Daiki's breath made the sky they bathed in ripple and the celestial pattern across his breasts shift their constellations.

He observed for a few more moments, the Sun submerged in the empyrean, before getting to his hands and knees, chest dipping into the azure as he crawled closer. He paused as his knees bracketed Daiki's legs, waiting for some sort of reaction, rejection, but none came. Xanxus closed the void between their warmth, before laying himself against the form cast in copper, his head resting against a bronze clavicle.

Honey drooling gold looked down at him as he gazed heavenward with bleeding ruby, just waiting for pain to befall him for touching the other's skin, waiting for a bite, a sting, an ache or a burn. An Arctic hand pressed to his back, their dark skins dotted with blue, before nails gnawed at his flesh, soon balmed by gentle strokes of Daiki's palm. Xanxus relaxed into the Sun, feeling pressure against his pectorals that came with the embrace of a female body, drinking in the warmth of the atmosphere.

He hissed as the crescents cut into his back stung, the stolen Sun washing the Wrath's lacerated back with firmament. Vermillion lips twitched at the noise, before nails dug the salts in a new, making the Sky reciprocate the clawing along the rogue's own back, a sharp growl rumbling in his ear as an empty warning. Xanxus made his own snarl as a response, but it too carries little threat, the actions carrying more like feral dogs making conversation in the only way they knew how.


Daiki spoke after a moment of mindless washing, still running his fingers along the plains of the Sky's back, drawing the Wrath from his dozing.

"Hm?" He hummed, relishing in the feeling, the bite of salt and the stroke of calloused skin.

"Nothing...Just wanted to say it."

Xanxus looked up at the Sun out of the corner of his eye before settling in closer, the water sloshing about as he pressed their flesh flush.



"Nothing. Just wanted to say it."


Fanart by: Rolling-id, Tumblr

Chapter Text

(X) Chapter Warning: Sexual Content (X)

Word Count: 3,407

"Ottone~! Shishishishishi!"

"Yes, yes, Bel, I see you."

Daiki sighed a breath, the air hot with June, Varia gardens alive with wildlife and the 'cheerful' Belphegor who chased after Mammon, his knives falling to the ground as they passed through the rogue Arcobaleno harmlessly. The book in his lap laid open at another poem, the pages thick with stanza and paragraphs, annotations and tags scrawled in the margins in pen and pencil.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Lussuria hummed with a tray, coming to sit beside him on the shaded little bench, nestled beneath a liquid amber.

"Not at all." He responded, helping the Sun down with his clutter, the tray coming to rest between them.

"Thank you, lovely."

They shared a short glance and continued to set up their refreshments, the fruity taste a nice accompaniment to the summer, fine china catching soft light.

"You're awfully subdued today." Daiki commented, watching the relaxed movements of the other.

"Ah, it must be the hot weather, must be making me sleepy." The older sighed, reclining into the bench, exuding an aura of calm. "Only one more exam for you, right?"

"Yes," Daiki nodded, accepting a cup of sweet, cold tea. "It's a group of essays which require related texts."

"I guess you've already chosen them then?" The Varia Sun giggled, sipping at the china.

The copper cast man made a note in the back of his throat before closing his book, reclining into the bench and closing his eyes.

"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul."

His voice carried softly as he remembered the words, speaking them with subtle emotion, Lussuria listening with a gentle smile as he drank his tea. The lines spilt from his lips in controlled, woven waves, gently washing against ears as he rhymes and recited.

"It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul."

Daiki opened his eyes finally and turned his golden gaze on the Sun.

"I think it will work well enough for the prescribed text." He hummed.

"I think you'll do very well in your exams, Daiki." The Varia Sun nodded, getting a huff of amusement.

"Thank you, Lussuria."

"Call me Sis." The smiling Mafia breathed. "If you want to."

Daiki blinked at him, before slowly smiling into his cup, his cheeks gaining a pleased colour as his eyes softened.

"Okay, Sis."

"Read me another one of your poems?" The older man requested, refilling their sweet, chilled teas.

"Of course."

"...And round about the keel with faces pale,
Dark faces pale against that rosy flame,
The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came."

Xanxus gripped his pen in a torturous grip as he glared at the papers in front of him, bloodied ruby anchored to the page as he carved ink into the eggshell surface. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the Sky grit his teeth, senses high with caution and glee's twisted spine as he felt the lazy drizzle of honey amber on the side of his face, the trailing sensation light on his cheek and rolling down his neck, leaving him biting down on the desire to shiver. The desk creaked as he pressed more weight down on it, conducting the rise of frustration through to the pricy wood as he distractedly completed questions, needing this done and the space between vermillion magma and languid aureate closed.

Daiki was strewn across their bed from a few paces across the room, strong, lithe form laid out on its stomach with a feline languishing. Clad in a thin shirt and women's night shorts that went not much lower than his hips, the Sun, carved from brass and gold, shone with a thin layer of perspiration, the nocturnal phase still humid and warm, binder foregone for the night and safe company. Auriferous orbs, hooded in a powerful laze, watched the Sky, aura absolutely pulsing with satisfaction as he observed the younger restrain his instinctual squirming. Lips curled in a deep-seated satiation as he hummed a low, rich note, stretching out his spine as a groan rumbled in the room.

The Varia Sky sucked on his own tongue at the noise, angrily grinding his feet into the carpet as he took a deep breath, slowly relaxing, bathing in the attention of the usually dismissive Sun. He forced his hands to write the responses, proving to his curling observer that he was progressing as expected, before making a show of closing his texts and pushing the papers aside, standing in a fluid motion. The Wrath rolled his shoulders and cracked his back, grumbling as he shrugged off his jacket, the Varia uniform piece having been the only cloth covering his top half.

Out of the corner of lustrous ruby, he could make the peripheral of the copper cast form, and the way gold plated bronze followed the arch of his spine, before turning away and focusing on the far lamp. Xanxus scowled at the dismissal, but followed the unspoken request, reaching for the switch, shutting the light to a single illumination by the bed.

"I'm going to sleep now." Daiki spoke after a moment, the lamp casting him in a honeyed light. "Do as you will."

Xanxus took the words as an invitation and strode forwards, perhaps twisting his body with too much interest as he reached the bed, crawling onto the sheets as the Sun arranged himself, letting vermillion lips twist into a smirk when the older found himself under a cage of limbs.

Daiki thinned his lips in an unimpressed and apathetic manner up at the looming Sky, however, made no move against the action.

"I want to sleep." He repeated, not so much as flinching when a hand settled on his clavicle and thumbed at the hollowed dip.

"I don't want you to." Xanxus huffed, trailing his fingers down over the rise of the other's bust, pausing at the rightmost focal point, taking pleasure in feeling out the risen, softer surface through the material, eyeing how thin shorts rose on one side.

Daiki pursed his lips, before slamming his fist into the Sky's solar plexus, the Wrath heaving in shock, arms buckling as he dropped down onto the Sun. Xanxus coughed and winced as his abdomen throbbed, but only huffed in aggravation, growling into Daiki's ear as they were rolled onto their side and situated for sleep.

"You say that like you have a choice." The Sun grumbled, tucking the head of spiky locks under his chin.

There were bodies scattered around the room, men groaning as their wounds pulsed with white fire pain, bones ground into gravel within their joints and noses bleeding and bent. They had pissed him off yet again, snivelling wretches that never learnt just how low they needed to bow to him, to Wrath. It made the air stink of iron and pain, his nose scrunching in distaste as he had gazed at the carnage, at the punishment, a hand creeping closer to his shoe only to have the phalanges crushed and snapped under his booted heel. He could feel nothing but apathetic rage, a monochromed red that bathed his vision and left it tinted with blood and fire, a deep-seated disgust for the weakness of those who thought themselves great bubbling with vicious integrity within the cauldron of his mind.

But when the door opened, it all stopped.

Xanxus was never one who was easy to distract or derail, but to him, Daiki commanded his attention at almost all moments. He watched with a rapt attention as the Sun surveyed the room, honey gilded gold dragging over the broken men.

Xanxus...Xanxus couldn't express the twist and convulsion of the moment Daiki turned his gaze on him. Couldn't tailor the phrases or stanzas to convey the sudden submersion, the all-consuming tidal rush that filled his lungs as gilded orbs took him in. He would never be able to perfectly or even quite define the emotion that arose from deep within him when he saw what Daiki did, how he looked at him.

He gazed at the Sky with such...recognition.

Acclimation. Appreciation. Plaudit.

It crashed down on the Sky and nearly made his legs buckle with the weight, with the heavy praise. He could feel the buzzing in the tips of his fingers as he relished in the blue moon's exaltation, breath heavy as he watched the Sun across the room.

Xanxus had made people proud before. His father, his brothers, his teachers, his allies. They had all been blown away by his skill when he had broken onto the scene, clawing together reputation from the streets, striving to make himself a home in the new world, but never, never did those accomplishments settle him. They never filled the void, the greed, the ambition. Those people made him lazy, made him not care in the least.

Daiki. Oh, Lotus. Lotus made him do more. Dragged him through the mud until he got back to his feet, even if the bones in them were broken, he had to walk. If he couldn't walk, then he had to crawl. He had to keep up, Daiki wasn't going to wait for him to follow, he wasn't going to pamper him or princess him like the Mafia did. Daiki wouldn't fan him if he got too hot, he'd force him onwards, tie him up and road haul him if Xanxus dared to hesitate or give into Sloth.

Daiki was merciless, but once it was done, once it was completed...Daiki would gently wipe the dried mud and dirt from his face and card his fingers through messy hair. And with an aching body, Xanxus would be able to turn and see what he had conquered, feel the victory, feel the pride. Then he'd turn again, and Daiki would gesture for him to follow, to climb the next mountain.

His Lotus made him work for the success, for the praise. His Lotus wouldn't hand over golden trophies or golden honey.

It made his heart pound, and his hands bundle, fury and frustration becoming laced with a narcotic and a dopamine, until he reached his hands out before him, the copper cast Lotus man standing beyond his grasp.

Then cold fingers brushed his palm, hesitantly, before lacing with his own hot ones.

Wine eyes widened and vermillion lips parted in an awed breath, sweet honey gold finally within arm's reach. He was frozen, completely paralysed as they came closer, their hands still clenched to each other in chains of flesh, until the moment of soft collision.

Lips, blushing with blood, moved against each other in the briefest of ways, glancing over their partner as they kissed at the air between them, volcanic wine and nectar gold never closing or losing their focus. The space between them was sweet with exhalant as they breathed, standing in the carnage of the room, barely conscious eyes watching them with fear and reverence.

His Lotus gazed at him for a moment, and then two, completely consuming his visage. And then he blinked, and stepped back. The spell was broken. The moment of victory, of success, was over. There was another mountain to climb.

But Xanxus had already given to Sloth, he wanted to rest at the peak for a little longer, wanted to bask in the sunlight for just a moment more. He wanted to relish in the Pride and shake the hand of he grasped the body of Lust, and he dragged Daiki back to him.

His hands scalded the cold skin as he disregarded the space, forcing it closed as he split lips and tasted blood between them, licking at the wall of pearl, Daiki refusing him entrance even as he backed them up to a table, feeling the edge dig into his lower back. Items of high price and high history shattered onto the ground as the table rocked, the broken men on the floor groaning the loss, but Xanxus couldn't find it in him to care as he squeezed their still connected hands, tasting the sweetness of his Lotus, feeding on the narcotic nectar.

Daiki was unresponsive, but Xanxus didn't care, just having honeyed gold on him was enough. Feeling the warm drizzle of the nectar dripping down his jaw as he gazed up at them, eventually weaning himself from the sweetness to see a bridge of saliva break onto their chins.

To have his Lotus so close, to have tasted the sugary liquid, it drove him to new highs, the pulsing in his body loud in his ears as he breathed heavily. The Wrath wanted more, he demanded more of the being cast in gold and copper before him. Reaching up with his fiery hands, the Sky grasped the other's shoulders and forced him down on his knees, seeing an apathetic response to the positioning.

If Daiki were perhaps a bit more expressive in this moment, he might just have rolled his eyes at the Sky when the angle of a belt sounded out in the room, but he only blanked his face in exasperation and, in an almost bored manner, took the forcing of hot flesh into his mouth and made the Wrath curse seven unholy levels.

Xanxus knew exactly how vulnerable he was at that moment, no matter how it was portrayed or perceived, Daiki was the one who held him at the edge, full prepared to drag him into agony or push him into pleasure. Daiki called the shots here, Xanxus may well have been the one holding the gun, but only Daiki could guide the bullet through the barrel.

Bullets. Bullets as dangerous as the shards of pearl that lined the warm cavern of the Sun's jaws, sharp and blunt to sever and grind.

How anyone could think that this placed them on top, he could never understand. Even with his fingers laced through dark cobalt hair, breath fast and heart ramming itself against the walls of his chest in a desperate, obsessive bid to get out and smear crimson over a bronze complexion, even as waves of euphoria cantered along his nerves, not once did he dare believe that he could control the kneeling Sun, the hands on his hips and careful, warning grazes of dangerous calcium a constant reminder of his state.

His head tilted back for a moment, his throat rumbling as he moaned a worshipping hymn to the Sun's incarnate.

Xanxus may very well have been the one dragging a wet, massaging inferno to an ecstatic rhythm, eyes lowered to watch the gleaming border that was left by vermillion lips, but the sizzling, tingle of instinctual, reverent danger lurked in the back of his mind and kept him alert, only refreshing and amplifying the ungodly sensation dealt to him by an only half willing form, cast in gleaming copper.

His hips rocked with an urgency, crawling, crawling closer.

The name of the godly monster caught in the Sky's throat as his end was torn from him, muscles spasming uncontrollably in a convulsing bliss, nails digging into royal and to be reciprocated into his hips.

Slowly, Daiki removed himself from the Sky's grasp and turned to the side, spitting out the spill into priceless shatterings on the floor.

"Are you done yet?"

His voice curled in Xanxus' ears and made his body shudder with aftershocks, the low aggravation a blissful thing to hear.

"Not until you swallow." Was the decided response, growled out between clenched teeth.

Daiki tsked his tongue in aggravation, lips bowing in annoyance, gleaming with saliva, before he allowed himself to be caught again and dragged back into the one-sided pleasure.

It took longer this time, the glorious build, the perfect pressure, but soon he was losing himself again to a Promethean heat, crying a prayer to the Sun and an oath to the Lotus as his legs became weak and he dropped to the ground, no support given to him as the other became higher.

Daiki looked at him for a moment, before opening his lips a sliver, allowing the slightest dribble of liquid pearl to fall from vermillion, before making a show of his throat jumping with a swallow, licking the stray substance absently. Xanxus bit down when he watched the display, too drained to attempt another round, and highly doubting Daiki was going to put the effort in himself, but the shivers wouldn't stop, his nerves wouldn't stop screeching their devotion to the looming Sun and every breath brought about another wave of exhilaration.

His distraction was taken when the copper cast form came forwards, arms caging him to the carpeted floor as hands pressed just shy of his own, his Lotus entering his space casually, honeyed gold watching him in a lazy fashion as the Sky bathed in satisfaction.

"Are you done?" He asked again, making the Wrath grunt in exhaustion. "If you're done, then-"

Xanxus opened his eyes immediately upon awakening, and instantly knew the Daiki was not happy in the least.

"If you're done," Daiki grumbled, still holding him in their shapes of sleep. "Then could you be so kind and call a maid or something? The bed needs new sheets now."

And with that, the Sun tossed their sheets aside and vermillion wine zeroed in on the dark, uncomfortable patch of his pants and the faint gleam of wetness on the baker's thighs. Xanxus or not, he couldn't help the heat that came to his face, tips of his ears burning as Daiki made a noise of disgust and got out of bed, pulling the comforter and bundling the sheets off in the corner as the Sky called for the nearest night shift.

"The hell didn't you wake me up?" He snapped finally, shucking off his night pants and chucking them into the pile, standing naked before the Sun as he grimaced at his state.

"I was courteous enough to let you enjoy your moment." The other huffed, "I only really woke up when you started to rub against me anyway."

The Wrath tsked but followed the baker into the bathroom, faintly hearing the bedroom door open and people bustling around the room, the rustling of material echoing into the space as Daiki closed the door. His ears were surely on fire, swelling with blood and humiliation as he trudged into the shower and spun it on hot, intending to make an excuse for his redness.

"What the hell were you even dreaming of, anyway? You came two bloody times in, like, fifteen minutes." Daiki asked, pulling his feminine night shorts off and leaving himself bare to the room, splaying his legs open to allow the wet face towel to wipe the blight away.

Xanxus couldn't answer immediately, distracted by the sight, before biting the inside of his cheek and forcing his head back forwards.

"Dreamt I was screwing some blond bimbo, does it fucking matter?" He snapped, digging his nails into his palms.

The Sun hummed at the response as the Sky glared at the tiles, trying to lower the burn of his blood, before hacking a cough as he was spun and slammed against the hard wall. A strong hand wrapping around his throat in an embrace of his breath and making his head light. The Wrath's hands came up and grasped the tanned wrist, their skins damp with humidity and falling water as gilded honey gazed down at him with some kind of fire, droplets of the shower dripping down a bust cast in copper and gleaming in the light.

"Next time," His Lotus grit out, coming in closer until their breaths mingled and water fell from a cobalt fringe. "Do me the courtesy of being more focused when you're fucking my thighs."

The Wrath shuddered as the fingers tightened, lips hanging just shy of each other, tantalisingly close and Earth-shatteringly enticing, before Daiki pushed himself off. The Sun dried and dressed before walking out, closing the door behind him as he kicked into conversation with a maid, the soft click cutting him off.

Xanxus panted as he forced his breath to cycle, touching his throat as memories and arousal flooded through him, his lips slowly curling into a smile.

"Next time…"

Chapter Text

  Word Count: 4,097

Daiki was ignoring everyone.

The rogue Sun sat at the cluttered desk of the Sky in a slight slouch, papers rising into thick wads of work as he prepared for the incoming exam with vigour. It made Xanxus unsteady, the amount of stress that he could feel bubbling just under the copper surface, made him antsy.

The Sky chewed on his lip irritably from his bed, the book on his lap forgotten for watching Daiki scrawl arguments and discussions, one after another on a seemingly endless supply of lined paper. The smell of ink made him nauseous and the continuous pen scratching scraped at the inner workings of his cranium, fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm into the rough surface of the back of his hand.

The night was a nocturnal inferno. Summer was bathing the country in a heavy warmth that made days tiring and nights restless. It left people scrambling for the shade and for the cool, stripping themselves of their clothes and inhibitions as the dark came alive. Daiki was no exception for this rule, his nightshirts foregone for loose little things that might have passed had he been in seclusion, but the sight of the loose hanging 'crop top's sent Xanxus into overdrive every other night, the thin straps that held it up often slipping from everyday activities.

Such as now, as the clock turned on nine-twenty-five, the black material fell from the left when Daiki slumped and growled, and the shine of perspiration that dripped slowly down the curve of the baker's brass shoulder blade at nine-thirty, being the straw that snapped the Sky's spine and resistance.

"When is this due?" He asked, gritting his teeth as the Sun tossed a crumpled piece of paper into the nearby rubbish bin.

"Two days." Daiki hissed out, hand coming to tug his own hair as an ink blot formed from lack of creativity. "Fuck."

Xanxus narrowed his eyes at the back of cobalt blue, before he sat up and slapped the free pillow, the sound drawing only the slightest of the distracted baker's attention.

"Come here."

"I'm busy."

"Do as I say."

"I'm working."

Xanxus grit his teeth at the dismissal, before tossing aside his book and standing, sweat gleaming on his bare shoulders as he crossed the room, bare feet soft against the floor. Reaching out, he let his hands slide across the broad frame of the Sun, feeling a solar warmth beneath his fingers as he pulled the form back against his front, bowing to bring his lips next to sharp ears.

"I need to get this done." Daiki grunted, feeling the breath of the Sky brush his cheek. "Annoy me later."

"You're stressing." Xanxus muttered low.

"Of course I am," He uttered, making no move against the Sky when hands slipped down his shoulders to curl around him in an almost hug, trapping him to the feral aristocrat. "I am human, if the load is heavy enough, I will become anxious."

"Mm," The Wrath hummed, feeling the Sun wanning, muscles tense and tired under his fingers. "Come to bed."

"Then I'll only have one day left." Daiki gritted out, glancing at the being out of the corner of his eye.

"And you'll spend it refreshing you're already packed mind." Xanxus huffed, finding the nervousness a distasteful spice in Daiki's aura.

"Are you worried about me?" Daiki scoffed, an almost playful lilt coming to his voice as he leant back into the infernal warmth.

"Your stress," The Sky started turning until they were nose to nose. "Is unbearably permeating."

"Then I apologise for disturbing your beauty sleep, from the looks of it, you need it still."

Xanxus bared his teeth at the jab, teeth flashing as he made to bite the Sun in an act of revenge, only to be stopped by a hand sealing over his mouth, the smell of ink and paper filling his nose as melted down amber boiled with the Summer night. Daiki's lip twitched and demanded attention, a flash of a tongue coming as he absently wet them, leaning close, volcanic ruby widening in anticipation, before he was pushed away and Daiki made to stand.

"I guess you're right," He sighed, stretching out his back and letting out a bassed moan as his spine cracked and clicked. "Sleep would do more good than harm at this point."

Xanxus lunged and gripped the Sun by his throat, pushing him back until sweat-damp flesh was pressed against the window and the glass became foggy with condensation. Molten gold watched him with a cocktail of amusement and shock, the sight an intoxicating one he drank down even as he gagged on frustration and desire. His breath caught as Daiki's hand came up and latched onto the Sky's pillar of breath, thumb digging dangerously into his windpipe.

"And what is wrong now?" Daiki asked, just barely containing his sharp grin of cut pearl.

"Do not-" He snarled, getting a laugh.

"'Do not' what?" Daiki hummed, lips curling at the edges. "Tease you?"

Xanxus growled before lurching forwards, vermillion flesh coming close to lotus petal soft, only to halt just a breath away, craving crimson never losing humoured honey.

"You won't force yourself on me," The Sun breathed to his Icarus, watching as the Sky pulled back, less than an inch. "You're kind like that."

"Even the Devil needs consent." Wrath hissed, "So I will ask instead."

The vermillion Sky stepped forwards until they pressed flush from their chests downwards, bare cores warming each other in the heated night as ruby and gold gained an interested shine, hands still wrapped around throats in an almost protective manner, the others hanging at their side.

"Hey Daiki," Xanxus stared, leaning closer. "Kiss me."

Flashes of a morning lit room dashed through their minds, a young Sky in a child's formals, a young Sun explaining it not to be a suit. The smell of the bakery coming through an open door and the warm bed of a familiar time.

Daiki gazed down upon the steadfast Wrath, his grip never wavering as his lips parted and slow, careful words slipped between them as bloodied ruby paid close attention.

"One every hour."

Xanxus furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Only one kiss, every hour. That is the rule we will follow." Daiki stated, no room for complaint from either of them.

Honey dribbled gold shifted to the grand clock at the end of the room, its hands moving in a steady, confident, rhythm. Time would not change, it would not speed up, nor slow down. Yes, it can be shifted, but its constance remaines. There is no debating time.

Volcanic vermillion boiled at the idea of a limiter, but were quelled by cold gold, knowing that he would be able to push no further without being forced back to nothing yet again.

"Fine." He snipped, opposedly obedient.

"We will begin," Daiki started, before looking again to the clock which ticked away time, nine-fifty-five. "At ten o'clock post meridiem."


It was always Ten.

Born on the tenth day of the tenth month. Be dubbed with the Roman numeral for ten. Be the most promising candidate for the position of Vongola Tenth.


It had been ten in the morning when he had led a ten-minute chase with the baker's son. It had been ten loaves of bread that he had been allowed to 'steal'. It had been ten in the morning when he had been taken from the slums. It had been ten in the morning when he had severed himself from Daiki's side.

It had been ten in the morning when he had Squalo find Daiki again.

Ten. Ten days of Daiki in the Varia. Ten nights of Daiki's warmth around him. Ten cycles of Daiki's breath in his ear and skin on skin.


Ten commandments spoken in ten Lotus voices. Crawl ten kilometres to grasp ten copper fingers in ten broken phalanges, each broken into ten pieces. Ten slabs of sapphire with gold inlay, each polished piece proclaiming his sacrament and demanding his blood to be splattered across them as crimson varnish. Ten snakes with ten eyes and ten forks slithering to bind and constrict him as he is laid bare before ten identical spectators of cobalt and copper. Ten church bells ring out in tandem, but can only be heard by ten of the whores' sons. Ten tongues lapping at the wooden frame of a ten-hour clock, ten different voices panting as bloodied streaks colour the shifting cogs. Ten little feet tread in ten different directions in ten centimetres of snow sludge. Ten men lay themselves out to the ten sapphire slabs and press the heavy weight upon themselves until ten skeletons are crushed beneath. Ten eyes, cast from the very riches of the earth and man, gaze down at him with ten shades of judgement and acceptance. Ten lapis lazuli Lotus hang ten metres out into a pond of a ten-metre radius.


Ten men and women stand in a decagon of ten lotuses, the golden water rippling ten different ways as it glimmered under ten labradorite suns. Ten forms cast in copper and brass watch him as he wades towards them, weighed down by his clothes and their imperial topaz gaze. He gapes as he looks up at the celestial beings, waist deep in the liquid sun on which they tread above easily, their stares both curious and uncaring, welcoming and ostracising, calm and erratic, three and seven.

He could form not ten words here, not allowed, not worthy as the ten whispered to each other in ten hushed tones, eyeing him out of the corner of their eyes, suspicious of their invader, the Tenth Eden waters rippling ten times again.

Then, one steps forwards, copper skin gleaming under the agate sunshine. They crouched before him, azurite hair falling from Their shoulder in an everflowing curtain of shifting, living water and starlight. He counted ten. Ten breaths of their air he did breathe in that moment, ten tastes of Their exhalant that was nectar sweet on his tongue and in his blood.

A ten petaled lotus floated up to them, ten dots of light dancing around it under the water's surface, before fleeing upon the being of copper and cobalt reaching for it. They scooped it up in a gentle motion, easily rising it up between him and Them, gold dribbling from Their ten fingers and creating ten patterns down Their arms, allowing him to see the amber liquid that was pooled within the pearly, glass petals. The liquid shifted with his breath, before his eyes looked up at the being before him, imploringly, begging to be given permission as the sweet, ambrosia scent wafted up to his nose.

They gazed at him for a moment more, imperial topaz taking in his devotion, the nine other forms watching, appearing as if they were each carved by the hands of the Greek and the Roman, a war waged with bronze sculptures, trying to outdo one another's beautiful creations.

The one before him extended Their arms in a slow stretch, biceps shifting as They presented him with the nectar filled, glass lotus, gold water dripping from the bottom and the lapis lazuli suns shining from above. His hands reached out in a rushed, clumsy manner, grasping the lotus as it was placed in his palms.

He gave a grunt. The ten, glass petaled lotus was beyond heavy, but he refused to release it, no matter how his limbs screeched and his fingers grew white and buzzing. He held it, and held it still as They touched their bottom lip, the vermillion flesh soft and yielding beneath Their touch as They held his gaze, before reaching across. Their fingers pressed to his lips in a gentle touch, the caress making him dizzy as They watched him, the nine figures behind reaching for their own lips as if trying to imagine what his would feel like.

They shifted again, gently hooking Their fingers into his mouth and forcing his jaw open before retracting them, a bridge of saliva breaking after a distance of ten centimetres. Frozen in an obedient, awed and reverent stillness, he only complied as they cupped Their hands over his and helped to bring the petals to his lips and pour the nectar narcotic into his mouth.

Ten trails of ambrosia dripped down the skin of his throat as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful, feeling the quenching slide and refreshing cool, as if just now remembering the desert he had crossed to get to the Tenth Eden.

And then he found himself bare, the lotus having fallen from his hands and splashed into the golden water, liquid gold flying up to beat droplets across his chest and join the rivets of sweet nectar that dribbled from his lips, chin and down his collarbone. They joined the first, ten figures coming to stand before him, before ten hands were offered down. He grasped as many as he could, and those he could not, wrapped around his arms as they pulled him from the water and onto their plain.


He danced with them under the darkness of ten sapphire suns, laughter high and narcotics free as he felt warmth and heat, never cold with ten other bodies writhing with him, never sad with ten voices giggling at his mischief, never lonely with ten hearts to weigh against his. They danced and drank and ate for nine nights and ten days, lavishing their new guest with flashes of attention and moments of affection.

And on the tenth hour of the tenth night...

Ten. Ten. Ten. Ten. Ten. Ten!

Ten o'clock post meridiem…

With hands still around each other's throats, the two leant in and all but bit their way into the other's mouth, too much teeth and too much tongue involved to be anything near gentle or elegant. But they didn't care, their savagery was a spice that made their tongues tingle with the feral kiss and made their mouth water in expectancy.

Xanxus growled and snapped his teeth angrily as Daiki pulled away, disgusting strings of saliva connecting their lips as they panted, bodies warmer than the Summer's effect.

"One every hour." Daiki repeated, and the Sky swore to burn every time counter in the world until the concept of time bent to his will.

Daiki sighed, as if he were able to hear the obtuse claim of the Sky, before he lost the grip he held on the other's neck, a huff leaving him when he saw an already forming patch of bruises where his thumb had assaulted. Xanxus reluctantly took the cue and released the elder's throat, his hands still holding contact for as long as possible before he let it drop to his side.

"It's late." The Sun sighed, glancing to the lightly laid four-poster. "Take me to bed, Xanxus."

His name.

Daiki hadn't said his name for...a while. It made him swallow audibly, ears burning to hear it more.

Xanxus gazed up at him, before grasping his hand and tugging the other along, the two of them making their way to their sheets, ruby never straying from the copper cast being. The Sky crawled into the centre of the bed and watched as the other followed, movements careful, as if not used to this.

Daiki looked at him for a moment, amber gold and luxurious ruby reflecting off each other as seconds ticked by, before he exhaled, and laid himself down, resting his head on the sweat glistening chest.

They stayed until the clock rung for eleven post meridiem. A soft, sleepy kiss stolen from the Sun, making him growl lowly in his slumber.

Xanxus watched his Lotus sleep, watched the rapid movement of eyes behind their skin covering. He was mesmerised by the rise and fall of an unbound chest, the jump of a pulse underneath copper skin, the gleam of sweat taking hold in dim, honey lamp light.

He could take another. He could press his lips to the petals of his Lotus before the next chime of the clock. The creature of cobalt was sleeping peacefully, if he was careful enough, he could attempt to satisfy his Gluttony for the narcotic.

He gazed at Daiki for longer, before settling down, and fixing his eyes on the features of his face, listening to his breath and counting the ticks of the clock, waiting for the next chime which allowed him a moment of euphoria.




The grand, old clock rattled with midnight, and Xanxus bowed his head to the Sun, laying lips upon lips for the first chime of the new day. He rolled his tongue against the soft skin of Daiki's lips as the second chime came, tasting ambrosia breath.

As the third chime came, he slowly parted from his Lotus, watching how the man of Sun had remained undisturbed, still peaceful in his embrace.

The fourth chime let him lay his head beside Daiki's, arms still coiled around each other loosely.

The fifth chime saw him tracing the lines the shadows created upon Daiki's face, the sixth doing much the same.

The seventh found him lightly fingering the lower lip of the other, remembering the softness of it all, the tingling sensation that had spread from his lips to his head to his heart.

The eighth brought him to closing his eyes, the inhalation of sunshine warmth, bread and metal reaching his nose, dashes of ink and parchment new in the scent.

The ninth let him relax and curl around his Lotus, cradling it and keeping him close, breath beating against his chest and making him shiver.

And on the tenth chime of midnight, the two Flames melded into each other, restful and sublime in their contentment with their company.

Lussuria looked up from the frying pan and grinned, waving at the newly awaken Daiki with his spatula as he cooed a good morning to his fellow Sun.

"Morning, Sis." Daiki yawned, coming to drop down at the Varia's breakfast table.

"Ottone! Shishishishshi, you're in for a hell of a day! The prince has much planned." Belphegor snickered, flicking pieces of bacon at the growling Lightning.

"Sorry, Bel, I have an exam today." The Sun apologised with another yawn, muttering a thanks as Lussuria piled his plate with bacon and eggs.

"You spent the whole of yesterday and the day before locked away in Boss' room, you're going to ace this." The flamboyant man assured, restocking his pan as the familiar shouts and roars of the morning kicked off from down the hall.

"I can see why you always rise before Boss." Mammon scoffed, slurping the yolk from their eggs.

Daiki made an amused noise of agreement before offering the Arcobaleno the apple juice from his side of the table, pouring some for them and Leviathan, Belphegor chugging his milk as if trying to spare it from a stealing.

"VOOOIII! Get up you lazy son of a bitch!"

"Trash, get lost."

"Up! Up! Up! VOOOIIII!"

Daiki hummed as he sipped at his juice, eyes moving over to the nearby clock and quickly tracing the time. Eight-fifteen.

"Good morning Boss~!" Lussuria greeted, getting a grunt as his response.

"Boss! Good morning, I hope you slept well!" Leviathan declared, standing up and pulling out the Sky's chair for him to sit down with minimal labour.

Mammon paused his chewing and Belphegor stopped conducting an imaginary orchestra with his knife and for as they regarded their Harmoniser, an interested hush coming over them as the Wrath came to a stop beside the rogue Sun.

Squalo bowled into the room with fire in his eyes, pieces of vase clinging to his hair as he snarled at the cackling Lussuria.

"Boss, leave the pretty boy alone!" He snapped, seeing the look the Sky was sending the baker. "He's not going to move and you fucking know it."

Daiki looked ahead of him at the grand seat on the very far end of their table, remembering how Xanxus had raged when he had found the Sun so far from him. This time, however, he didn't think that was the reason he had the Sky looming over him, the slight clench of fists and parting of lips telling amber eyes everything he needed to know. Daiki glanced to the clock again.

"He doesn't need to move. He just needs to give me what I'm due." Xanxus stated, making the room shift in confusion.

"Due?" Mammon repeated, looking between the two Flames.

Daiki sighed and put down his knife and fork, looking up to the Sky in a manner that, could have, been defined as almost fond.

"What time did you go to sleep, then?"

"Nine o'clock." Xanxus declared, boasting the number like he was proud.

"And it's eight-seventeen now, so that makes-"

"Eleven." He interjected, rushing the moment to go by faster. "I am due eleven."

The Varia glanced to each other as Daiki took another drink, humming into his cup with acceptance, before getting to his feet and stepping out of between his chair and the table. The two Flames stood across from each other, situating themselves as if a dual were about to take place, vermillion never straying from honey.

Then Daiki grasped the Sky's face and bowed himself press the first kiss.

Xanxus dragged each one for as long as he could, knowing that each would remain so long as their lips were pressed flush. He hummed and grasped at the Sun's collar, flawless school uniform gaining wrinkles under the merciless grip of the Varia Sky. Wrath indulged himself in the sensation of warm solar lips and the eyes of spectators on them, feeling the shock, amusement and recognition that Daiki was Xanxus', a public announcement and display.

"One left." Daiki breathed, pulling back and licking the shine on his lips. "What shall it be?"

Daiki was going to the city. Daiki was going to be surrounded by horney, suppressed, academically overwhelmed, stressed out teens. Daiki was going to be in a room full of mediocre filth, be watched by the lessor and perhaps even need to touch and interact with scum.

"Loosen your collar." Xanxus demanded, getting a slight twitch of the lips.

His Lotus huffed but did as ordered, slowly and carefully lowering the knot of his tie and opening the firmed collar of his shirt, undoing three buttons to show a copper-brass neck, collarbone and the top of his black binder. He felt hands come to his back as he leant forward and took the pillar of breath between his teeth, sucking and nibbling at the pulse point, before simply sinking his teeth in.

A shout slipped from the baker when the pain registered, and he snapped at the Sky's ear in aggravation, a bloodied curse getting thrown at him as he gently weaned his teeth from the marks they had created. The sight was so satisfying to his inner Flame that the Sky didn't even feel the least bothered when he was pushed away roughly, Daiki's skin blooming a beautiful red as beads of ruby bubbled to the surface of brass.

"Shit! Damn it, that hurt!" He snapped, covering the stinging wound as he hissed, trying to protect the white shirt from the lotus nectar.

"Daiki, come here!" Lussuria yelped, pressing a dish towel to the bite mark, wincing when he saw the bruising of blunt punctures. "Ah, looks like it will hurt."

"I have an exam today, I don't have time for distractions." Daiki grit out, growling as one of Lussuria's men were called for.

Breakfast was a stiff ordeal as the Varia watched a man bandage up the Sun's neck, gause visible above the collar, and the faint ebbing of red flesh peeking from around the bandages.

Xanxus didn't even try to hide his satisfaction, smirking as he consumed his plate, looking on as Daiki absently touched his throat, frustration in his expression and boiling molten gold. The Sky stood from his chair as someone came to clear his plate and crossed the room to the side of the Sun, a cruel smile on his face as he gazed at the glare that was sent back at him.

The Wrath bent down and nuzzled his nose into the rough surface of the gauze, contentment buzzing in his blood as he scented iron from within the bindings. There was a sigh of irritation, before an arm came around his waist and pulled him closer.

"Fuck you, Xanxus."

Chapter Text

Fanart by: Rolling-id, Tumblr

Word Count: 5,084


“That was utter hell.”


Daiki gave a light laugh for his friend, the boy still weary around him after the run in with Squalo, but quick to warm up again.


“I'm sure you did fine, Antonio. You were able to recite the quotes perfectly.” The Sun assured as they collected their bags and stuffed away their standardised, transparent pencil cases.


“Yeah, after you said them.” Claude snickered, stepping up and jumping into the conversation.


“Piss off, I could see you freaking out from the other side of the room.”


“Obligatory five minutes of buffering!” Was the defence. “Anyway, Daiki, you free tonight? The guys and I are going to the movies to celebrate.”


“Sorry, I've got dance tonight.” The rogue denied, shrugging on his backpack and checking his watch. “I've actually gotta get there in an hour.”


“Oh, c’mon, can't it wait?”


“No, it’s only every two weeks, if I miss a session I’m gonna get all stiff.” He hummed, before waving over his shoulder at the two. “See you, I’ve gotta get home to grab my stuff.”


“Fine, fine! See you when the results come out!” They whined, reciprocating the goodbye as they headed off with a small party of people.


Daiki hummed as he made his way home, ducking into a store and purchasing a small bag of lollies, to which he good headway through, half way down by the time he paused. The Sun peered into the humid stone corridors of the alleyway, hot air flushing through the air tunnels and brushing across the rogue’s copper skin, clothes and cobalt hair ruffling. He turned, and stepped into the passageways, feet taking lefts and rights, familiar sights coming to his golden gaze, fingers trailing along the wall and collecting dust and dirt, before stopping over a rougher texture.


ザンザスそして 大輝

Xanxus e Daiki


Daiki thumbed at it for a moment, fingering at the grand, slashed ‘X’ of the Sky’s name, remembering how the boy had lit up when he had first been shown the engraved vandalism. He licked his lips in thought, wondering at the time for a moment, before drawing his hand back and continuing on.


“Kaa-san!” Daiki called as he pushed the door open, getting an excited squeal from his mother.


“Daiki-kun! Where have you been?!” She laughed, Japanese falling from her tongue for her son.


The rogue smiled as he gave a quick ‘at a friend’s house’, knowing that the mother was mostly lax with his outings, though the hug she pressed him into showed how she worried.


“You didn’t come home once!”


“Do you remember the boy I used to play with when I was young?” He asked, guiding the woman into the house where he dropped his bag.


“Oh, what was his name, Xanxus? He was such a beautiful boy, very good looking. What about him?” Kaede hummed, bustling around the kitchen for an afternoon tea for the Sun.


“He found me again. I was over at his place.”


Daiki proceeded to tell his mother an abridged, heavily parodied version of his stay at the Varia headquarters, giving sweetened descriptions of the Guardians and their Harmoniser. Kaede giggled and cooed at her memories of their interactions, reciting their adventures and how she often found the small Xanxus in Daiki’s bed come dawn, despite having no recollection of him getting in.


“I told you, he climbed the wall.” Daiki huffed, swallowing the last of his meal before picking up and disposing of his plate.


“Nonsense! How could he? It’s a sheer drop from your window, Daiki-kun.” She chided, taking a cold water bottle out of the fridge as well as a cake box and placing both on the counter.


“I think he used the water pipe.” The Sun shrugged, grabbing a small backpack from the bottom of the staircase and checking inside, nodding when he found everything within.


“Call the home phone when you want to get picked up or if you’re doing something else instead. But not too long this time, you’re going soon, remember?”


Daiki finished shoving his water bottle into his bag before looking to the calendar that hung beside the fridge, his lips pressing thin when he saw the kanji in the slot only a week away.


“Yeah, I remember.”


Bye bye Daiki-kun! - Fly to Japan, 5:30am


Xanxus tapped at his desk, no longer bristling at every second of the class, the other students having finally gotten it through their thick ass skulls that, yes, he was attending school again. There were a few odd idiots that still milled around and tried their luck in the halls, but they were fast becoming an extinct species, the student body quick to remember the hierarchy in their world.


However, even with the loss of the school’s tension, Xanxus was still unsettled, still too restless to pay attention- if he ever was.


Volcanic vermillion were fixed to the clock. They counted every second, making a mental tally with every hour, a buzz of thrill saturating his blood when the small hand dragged itself through a full rotation. His breath would still and his lips would twitch, fingers curling to create a fist that went white with force.


By the sixth hour, the class was buzzing, caution and restlessness woven into their attitudes as they watched how the Wrath twitched with preparation to bolt, ready to rip through the doors and escape.


The Sky inhaled as the minutes ticked to the thirty, phantoms of caramel and sunshine bathing his senses, the promise for more being his only patience. If he tried, he could still taste metallic nectar between his teeth, the red iron making his blood rise and fall until he was sweetly uncomfortable.


“Class is dismiss-”


And he was gone.


Daiki hummed to himself as he pushed the door open and immediately felt the music vibrating the floorboards, heavy base making his ears numb and buffered as he was greeted by hoots and twisting bodies.


“Heya Daiki!” Analys smiled, dropping from her pole as she waved him over for a sweaty hug. “Here a bit early!”


“Yeah, I haven’t been able to practice recently so I want to try and warm up as much as I can before trying any routines.” He admitted, touching his self-designated dance pole as if greeting it, checking for imperfections.


“Good choice, good choice.” She nodded, before putting her hands on her hips, shorts folded up to give her thighs grip on the metallic surface. “But why haven’t you been practising? For shame!”


“I got kidnapped.” Daiki shrugged, getting an eyeroll from the girl before she waved him off.


“Yeah whatever- Fred! Don’t lick you pole! That so gross!”


“I’m trying to be sensual!”


“You’re trying to make me sick!”


Daiki snickered at his fellow dancer’s antics as he moved over to the changing rooms, finding it empty and to his advantage as he quickly changed into his dancing gear, black leggings being the standard for their boy dancers. Just as he tugged on his singlet, the door opened and two others stumbled into the room, laughter loud and echoing off the walls.


“Hey! You’re here before us!”


“Yep, the room’s yours now to compare.” Daiki hummed, walking back out before dumping the cakebox he held on the table to the side of their studio. “Analys, I brought cake for everyone.”


“And this is why we love you.” A girl giggled running up and stealing a slice, chalk clinging to her shorts in handprints and she scarfed it down happily.


“Thank you, Daiki.” The woman smiled, before throwing a bunch of yoga mats on the floor. “Start stretching then.”


“Yep, yep.”


The Sun walked over to the mats and began to warm himself up, touching the floor with straight legs and bending himself this way and that, shirt lifting now and then and flashing the room his binder, one of the girls whistling teasingly, before shrieking as she dropped from her pole. Daiki sighed as he rocked his hips, trying to get a kink out of his back from being bent over a desk all day.


“Wow, wait, shit, Daiki! What happened to your neck, dude?” One of the boys, Damien, asked, pointing to the bandage that wrapped the rogue’s throat.


Daiki touched the rough aid, humming as he sat himself into a flat split, a hand coming to stabalise himself as he pondered an answer.


“Got a cut. It’s nothing too bad though, just bled a lot cause of the location.” Was the decided response.


“How’d you get a cut there?” Another asked, walking up with icing on the corner of her mouth.


“I was laying down and a frame fell.” He lied, accepting the help back to his feet, rolling his shoulders as he sighed.


“Ready for the pole then?” Analys called, happily in a sit a good few metres off the floor, surveying her little kingdom of school kid pole dancers.


“As I’ll ever be.” The Sun hummed, flipping the mat o the next person had an untainted surface to stretch themselves out on.


Pole dancing hadn’t been the first thing to come to mind when Kaede had urged Daiki to take up some sort of extracurricular activity, wanting him to make friends despite how different he was to his peers, both Asian and trans. It had been an accident, really, finding this place. The Sun had opened a boxing club’s website and had left his mouse hovering over a timed advertisement in the corner of the screen, which had resulted in the form of a woman dominating the box computer's frame and startling the young teen with loud music.


He didn’t click away though, and soon found himself in a downward spiral of videos and articles on the strenuous art of pole dancing.


Kaede had been unsure at first, when he had presented the idea, voicing the stigma that followed the sport, but was quick to buckle when he pressed about the intensity of the core strength, flexibility and conditioning that went into it all.


Daiki didn’t enjoy much, and he wouldn’t hesitate to say that, however, pole dancing and the practice that went into it was something that he could admit to finding pleasurable, if not for the physical exertion, for the rush and the confidence that came from it.


The rogue Sun sighed as he pulled himself up into a sit, pole squeezed tight between his thighs as he relaxed his arms, shaking his hands out, glancing to the clock and giving an absent noise.




“I wonder when Xanxus and the others will notice.” He hummed, before looking over his shoulder and waving at the boy who was squatting by the stereo.


The techy blinked before waving back and fiddling around, making a sound of accomplishment as he pulled free a CD, shoving it on and letting the heavy base hit the floorboards, people coming to life under the sound.


Daiki quietly tried to place the song as he let his feet come back to the ground, shaking himself out, copper skin shining golden under studio lighting and making cobalt radiate like mineral fluorite. The closest thing he could compare the song given to him would have to be something form Taeyeon, I Got Love, would probably be the best. The heavy drums and high guitar filled his ears as he swayed himself, remembering steps and movements, curling himself in a manner that he knew would spark a reaction from any kind of audience.


He let himself fall to the side before lifting himself from the floor, continuing to spiral as he kicked his legs over his head and hung upside down, toes pointed. The Sun curled his legs in a beconing manner at the mirror, before jolting, eyes becoming wide as his mind flashed of its own accord.




Daiki quickly dismounted the pole and leant against it, lips pressed thin as he gazed at the floor, feeling warmth in his stomach. He grit his teeth, wondering just since when, before sighing and touching at the bandage on his neck, another glance at the mirror making him furrow his brow.


“Analys!” He called, making the woman look at him from her perch. “If we thought there was a way to make our performances more alluring, could we do it?”


“Go ahead! I flatout think about sex when I dance.” She shrugged, smiling when someone gagged mid-spin.


“Okay...” He murmured, before carefully, almost unsurely, unfastened the bandage on his neck, wincing when he saw the imprints of teeth that remained from the morning.


“Shit! Someone took a bite outta you!” Damien yelped, dropping from his pole and hissing as the bruise. “Whatever happened to the cut story?”


“I lied.” Daiki shrugged, before waving him off.


Daiki gazed up at the mirror for a moment, lightly touching the mark on his neck, remembering who had done it. His lip twitched, and his body engaged, a copper cast form becoming malleable under the memory, melted down and flexible with the heat that boiled in its belly and in its chest. Whenever Daiki stretched his neck on a certain manner, a twinge of pain would ripple down his nerves and alight a cold flame in his heart, a kind of sadistic joy coming from how he reigned the Sky, its expenses so willingly contained in two simple hands.


Oh, he knew, he knew exactly how Xanxus was. The sickening obsessions, the disgusting deifying. It made him want to coo cruelty at the boy, wanted to hug him until he heaved from lack of breath, kiss at his scalp until it bled against his lips.


Soft little Sky who didn’t know what was best for it, or perhaps didn’t care in the least.


Daiki pulled himself until he hung upside down, the room rotating as he spun, legs splayed open and strong to hold his body up as his arms coiled around his torso, feeling the lines of his own self.


The Sun remembered how he had awoken that night, brought into awareness by the rocking and the rubbing. He remembered how it had boiled his insides, had made his breath hold as arms has constricted around him and lips had bushed his collar repeatedly. It had felt different, than he was used to, and though he had his fair share of partners, Xanxus was always so obscure.


He had tightened his arms around the Sky as he let him rock himself to completion within the crease of the rogue’s thighs, listening to the moan that shuddered through the Wrath upon the release, gritting his teeth as his hips moved from his own arousal, unable to deny biology.


“Are you done?” He had asked, wondering when vermillion bloodstone would open and view the state he had been put in. View the flush on his face and the blowing of his pupils.


Of course, it never turned out that way. Even if Xanxus did wake at that moment, he never did see what Daiki wanted him to see.


The second time, the rogue hadn’t held still and had let himself enjoy it, enjoy the friction and the panting that moistened his collar and the sinking of nails into his back. He sighed over the Sky’s head as firmness drilled into his flesh in a shaky, volatile pattern, soft groans tumbling from the one he cradled to his chest. And when the Wrath spilt himself, Daiki would deny that he tightened his thighs for him, letting the little sinner enjoy what he had done, resting his cheek atop a damp brow.


At that point, the Sun's mind was clouded with a heavy haze of arousal, the friction sweet but not hitting home like it must have for the Sky. It irked him to no end, the fact that he knew that he wasn't going to be pleased tonight, and in his rise, he urged the Wrath awake, before removing himself from the mess they had made.


Daiki twisted himself around the pole again, shivering from the cold metal against increasingly warm skin. Breath picking up as red and black filled his vision and mind. He squeezed the pole between his thighs before letting his spine fall back, arms hanging open like a languid crucifixion.


He hated Xanxus.


Hated how he was so easily swayed by the Wrath. Hated how he was so greatly attached, the weird, jarring feeling of a hollow in his side that had lasted for seven years. Hated how simply, nonchalantly, Xanxus filled it up and left him satisfied and warm.


As the Sun kicked his legs around and sent his body into a hypnotic spiral of cobalt and copper, he licked his lips absently, tasting a phantom of a feral spice that made him crush the pole far too tight and hold it far too close to the meeting of his thighs, teeth coming to grit as he choked down an unintentional noise.


Vermillion, ebony, and a melting pot of seven things too deadly. Xanxus was a bloody stain on his life that clung with too much vigour, and no amount of his half-hearted scrubbing was going to rid him of it.


And even if Daiki did check the clock as he spun, counting the hours until he was undoubtedly caught again, it proved nothing about his tingling skin and blushing lips.


Six forty-seven.


Xanxus had left after eight.


Daiki bit his lip as he held his body in suspension from his arms alone, curling it in a rolling wave motion once, twice and three times before reclaiming the pole and purposefully slamming his pelvis against it, creating a loud ‘bang!’, designed to startle. He loathed and loved how his vermillion border buzzed lightly with an impending eleven, already anticipating the rabid snarling that would sound as they bit their ways into each other, tongues just barely dodging teeth and delving too deep to be considered attractive.


It had been absolutely intoxicating when he had first buckled under the insistence of the Sky, when he had first allowed the lips to lay over his and a tongue to roll into his mouth. An absolute blessing that threw him for a stumbling loop. But, of course, Daiki knew it would turn out like that. He knew, the second that Xanxus had held him to window and look at him with such volcanic vermillion, that no kiss and no touch he had experienced so far would even be able to breathe a comparison to what the Wrath had in store for him.


And with that realisation, he knew he had to build his defences. He slammed a limiter on their affection the second he could, barring their touches and their lips from each other despite how he wanted to devour every inch of the offering the Sky had made of himself. Daiki knew that if he gave them an inch, they’d take it a mile, and he’d find himself happily trapped in the arms of the stray aristocrat.


Daiki twisted himself again, pole fitted into his shoulder as he kicked his legs over and rotated smoothly. The action made his neck ache with the bite, an electric spark of something dark and something hot going straight through him and making his breath come out as an audible puff.


The Sun couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t risk losing himself, not at this point. Not even if perhaps the smallest part of him, or the largest part of him, wanted to. So what if he wanted to bathe in the liquid devotion that Xanxus poured upon him with his eyes alone? So what if he wanted to listen to the hymns Xanxus sung for him when he thought the Sun was sleeping? So what if he wanted to be called ‘Lotus’ when Xanxus thought he couldn’t hear? He had to leave, and he had a week to do it.


A week. Seven days. He only had so long. Oh, the things he could do with those short, yet long days. He could spend them cutting his ties with the Varia, actively making them despise him as to never seek him out again, and to leave him to his own devices. Or he could spend those long Summer days drinking fruit tea with Lussuria, watching Belphegor play in the gardens, helping Mammon sort the bills, guiding Leviathan around a gameboard and around the kitchen, running a comb through Squalo’s short hair and letting him rant about anything and everything.


Spend those long, hot Summer nights laid beside Xanxus under thin sheets, sweat slicked skin stubbornly touching, the thief's desire for contact taking precedence over the baker’s overheating self. They’d lay in their contentness, quiet huffs and gentle quips with barely any bite jumping between them as they slowly dozed, immersed in themselves. Seven more days of accepting the affection of the Harmoniser, of tasting how sweet he was when he panted into an open mouth, of feeling how he shivered when teeth attacked his earlobe...


That damned Xanxus.


Daiki sighed as he swirled once more, pole caught in the crease of his knee and allowing him to slide towards the ground, setting down and stepping off with a sigh, flushed hot from exertion and a straying mind.


“Wow, Daiki!” Analys cheered, walking up to him with open arms and praise on her lips. “The hell were you thinking about that caused that performance?”


The Sun glanced to the mirror that took up the walls, a curl coming to his lips, parted in heavy panting, copper skin radiant under the studio lighting and glistening with sweat. Cobalt was ruffled and wind swept, pieces of fringe clinging to his brow and deepening in colour. Despite how tired he was, he was thrilled. Blood pumping through his veins at a relishing speed and making him restless, the hot that settled on his skin not nearly enough to settle him, the tight hug of his dance clothes showing the expand and contract of his chest as he heaved steadily. Honey drizzled gold luminescent with exercise and arousal, reflecting in the mirror’s gaze just how high the dance and memory had brought him.


After a moment, his lips pulled into a smile. It had too much teeth to be friendly, but too much of an affectionate tilt to be warning. It was a fond feral, a deadly delight. And it was directed at the dazed, glaze-gazed figure of the Varia Sky who took up the doorway.


“Xanxus.” Daiki all but sighed, watching the assassins file into the room through the mirror, never actually turning to face them even as he bent to pick up his towel.


They both decided to ignore how the Wrath’s shoulders shook with a full body shiver at the airy address, and the rogue Sun’s attention was quickly stolen by the rushing of Belphegor as he sprinted forwards with a too excited grin.




It only took the faintest gleam of metal to get Daiki to launch himself off the ground and hoist himself a good ways up the pole, high ceiling allowing the Sun a good three metres off the ground and safe from the small child’s knife-armed thrashings.


“Hello Bel, please put your knives away when you’re in public spaces.” He hummed, twisting to hang upside down and steal a blade from the Storm’s hand. “Put them away.”


The Varia prince grinned too wide before sliding his weapons away, through golden eyes could still pick out how thin, barely visible wires wrapped around bandaged fingers. People in the room shifted, unsure and weary of their new arrivals. Dancers thinned their lips and a few of them climbed their poles to create distance, eyes following the Mafia with a sharpness that came with their protective kinship.


“Daiki,” Analys smiled, touching the base of the Sun’s dance pole. “Who are your friends?”


And in an instant, the air shifted, the dancers quick to get back to their routines, but listening closely to the interaction.


“These are the guys that kidnapped me.” Daiki shrugged, smiling a kind of cruel way as he held Belphegor's blade between his teeth, returning his hands to the pole as he twirled for his own amusement, sliding lower to shoulder height. “They’re not too terrible, though. Mostly harmless.”


“Oh?” She breathed, touching the metal once more before parting from it as he pulled himself into a sit.


Daiki narrowed his eyes and let his lips curl, watching with a kind of satisfaction as the Sky walked over with too much swagger, a predatory, yet desperate flavour to his step. Vermillion connected with gold and they held it, feeling the barely contained heat that bubbled under their skins, Xanxus’ barely bridled wrath siering the Sun as his hand came up and touched at the skin of an outstretched ankle.


The rogue made a noise of amusement around the knife in his teeth as the red Sky slowly pressed a kiss to his navicular tubercle, both of them mentally counting it off their eleven hours, the clock reading seven o’two. They kept their eyes on each other, their auras thick with clashing amusement and rage as the Wrath’s incarnate crept closer, happily trapped between the outstreach of the Sun’s thighs, his palm following his walk until it was pressed to the solid mass of tissue and muscle of Daiki’s upper thigh, feeling their heats mix in the air around them.


“Where have you been?” Xanxus snarled, digging his nails into the flesh when lips tilted.


Daiki didn’t answer, humming a noise as he instead began curling his leg, the left knee coming to be bent over the Sky’s shoulder and keeping him close, dragging him the last step until the Sun could loom over him with melted down gold.


“Daiki.” He warned, feeling the squeeze of the calf and the thrill that followed and made his situation sweetly stiff.


“I was here, as I am every fortnight.” His Lotus shrugged, dropping the knife from his mouth and letting it clatter to the floor, all to humoured by the rage he made rise in the Sky. “And here I thought you knew everything about me.”


“I do. ” Wrath hissed, getting a huff from his Lust.


“Obviously not.”


“You know very little about me, actually, Xanxus-san.” Daiki spoke, Japanese falling from his tongue and sending shivers and tremors down the Italian’s spine, his calf able to feel the progression clearly, lips curling at the reaction.


“Stop that.” Xanxus growled, loving the sound but hating how it meant nothing to his logic. “You are to tell me when you’re doing something. I want to know where you are at all times.”


“Or what?” Daiki grunted, liking how the Sky always had to look up to talk to him, chin raised in a prideful, yet so very vulnerable manner. “You cannot dictate my actions.”


“You make it sound like you have a choice.”


“Oh? And what would you do?” The Sun asked, tilting his head forwards, cobalt swaying as he rocked his hips from the pole. “Punish me?”


Xanxus’ eyes widened when the copper being slammed his hips forwards again, the pole giving a ‘ bang! ’ upon the impact, a noise just barely reaching his ears as the rogue sank his teeth into his lower lip, the whole thing pulled into a teasing smile.


“The-” Xanxus grit his teeth and tried again, hoping the strain in his voice hadn’t caught the other’s attention. “The hell’s gotten into you?”


Daiki narrowed his eyes with a dark mirth, a hand coming off the metal to softly touch at the ebony locks that he had grown so used to carding in the night, so used to having them tickle at his chin, inhaling their soft scent as he slept.


“I tend to get a bit...excited when I dance.” He admitted, letting his fingers trail down his neck and tenderly touch the bite mark, making bloodied ruby snap to it, pupils expanding into dark pools upon the sight.


The rogue tilted his lips at the reaction, fingers flowing from the mark to his own lips, coming to be held between soft flesh in an almost considering manner, before he reached out, carefully brushing a dark cheek until he lightly traced parted lips.


The Sky inhaled sharply at the touch, vermillion flashing a magmatic colour as he relished in the near curious affection.


Their fingers pressed to his lips in a gentle touch, the caress making him dizzy as They watched him-


Daiki huffed as the Wrath’s memory distracted him, irking the Sun minutely, before he grasped the Mafia by his collar and dragged him closer, the metal of the pole painfully cold between their bodies as they gazed at each other. Xanxus despised how high Daiki was, too far for petal soft to press against each other, but he loved the pain that settled in his neck from having to crane it to gaze at the solar sovereign he had found, wrapped around the metallic pillar like a copper lotus vine.


“You still haven’t answered my question. What would you do if I disobeyed you?” Daiki pressed, seemingly honestly curious as to just what the Sky could cook up under pressure.


“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Xanxus grit out, fighting down a primal growl as Daiki dared to huff in amusement.


“Oh, what’s wrong? Anyone would think you were angry .”


Vermillion narrowed at the mirth and satisfaction that flowed from the Sun, feeling his solar warmth from where he still held the suspended thigh. He snarled and bared his teeth at the high hanging being, hating how the laughter that fell from soft lips soothed his behaviour.


“How about a kiss to make it better, then?” Daiki hummed, before rotating his body seemingly on an axel, looming over the Sky until his head was tilted full back to follow it.


Golden eyes glittered with humour and a kind of hot affection that stirred the Wrath’s insides, his body thrumming with the bass of a song and the race of his heart. At first kiss, it was feral, teeth and tongue, dangerously sharp and heavy collisions that made their blood sing with the mutual abuse.


And as Daiki threaded his fingers into the short hairs at the base of the Sky’s skull, Xanxus made a mental note to install a pole in the Varia Headquarters.


And as Xanxus cupped the rogue Sun’s cheek, Daiki made a mental note to start packing his possessions that were scattered through the Varia Headquarters.


Chapter Text

(X) Chapter Warning: Sexual Content (X)

Word Count: 4,044

Daiki was languid.

He had been sprawled on the shade of a liquid amber tree since he had awoken in the late morning, refusing to move from the indent he had made in the grass. A tray of tea and small treats had been left next to him by Lussuria, the Varia Sun cooing at him as the lazing man had grumbled a thanks.

With his exams over, the rogue had decided that his days of rest were upon him, and Xanxus wasn't one to refuse.

The Sky crossed the sunshine plains of the Varia gardens, taking in the scenery of his Lotus surrounded by mortal greenery and a light heat haze, curled in a feline manner. He let his eyes trail along the line of the rogue's back and allowed it to call him forwards, only stopping when he too had entered the shrouded space, cool instantly obvious as compared to the rest of the place.

"Hello, Daiki." He greeted roughly, a gleam coming when molten amber cracked open to peer up at him slowly.

Xanxus remained still as golden eyes gazed at him hazily, a kind of careless caution in them, lazy predation. He exhaled quietly as the Sun closed his eyes again and settled back into the grass, taking the action as an acceptance of his intrusion of the space.

He walked closer and slowly came to sit on the earth, back against the trunk of the solid liquid amber that protected them, and gently pulled the rogue closer until he was laid on the Sky's lap, hands free to roam through cobalt and over the clothed expanse of the other's back. His lips twitched pleasantly when he heard the faintest of purrs escape the baker, his light touches proved to be appreciated.

"It's four o'clock." Xanxus murmured softly, keeping his voice steady for the dozing man.

Daiki grumbled quietly, but in a sluggish motion lifted his head, allowing for a kiss to be bit into his lips, a huff of annoyance leaving him at the rough treatment. The soft flesh made them both settled, a kind of tension that had been building in the Sky fading upon the relief, another quick fix of his narcotic to last him until the next.

Daiki murmured a languid curse at the Wrath before lowering himself back down, head falling onto the Harmoniser's stomach, hands finding his hair and just gently rubbing his scalp.

Xanxus relaxed with the new weight, a light breeze going through and rustling their hair and clothes the slightest bit. He hummed an old tune in a barely audible voice, curling circles in the cobalt strands, feeling puffs of warmth bloom in his side as the Sun in his arms exhaled with steady contentment.

"Would you look at that."

The Wrath's vermillion orbs snapped up at the intrusion, volcanic eyes taking in the figures lining the very edge of their shade, Timoteo and his Storm Guardian, Coyote Nougat, watching on with varying levels of amusement and shock.

"I knew he was special," Timoteo smiled in his fatherly way that made the Varia Sky both sick and annoyingly subdued. "You look at him a certain way."

"Get lost, old man." He snarled, clutching the slumbering Sun closer as he bared his teeth.

"Boss, are you sure it's wise to have a civilian on grounds?" Coyote asked, disregarding the Wrath's snappings. "Can he be trusted?"

A spark of rage billowed into a bonfire as the Storm eyed his Lotus. His hands snagged the thin shirt that clad the copper form and balled it in his fists as he held onto the man, steadfast.

The Vongola Ninth saw this, and gave soft laughter, deep in his belly and jocund in the sound.

"Do not worry, friend. Daiki here has no interest in giving us any trouble."

It made Xanxus grit his teeth, the familiar way that the man spoke the name, but the slight shifting drew him from his growing spite.

"Go away." He growled again, settling back to show how the conversation was over.

The two men looked to each other and shared an unclear expression, before continuing on, the sound of the Nono's jolly laughter fading as the Wrath and his Lotus were left in the gardens to laze through the Summer evening.

"Hey, Mammon." Daiki hummed, writing down the numbers that the rogue Arcobaleno rattled off, able to handle a pen with normal sized hands. "If you don't mind me asking, what do you identify as? Feel no need to answer, if the question is too invasive."

Mammon peered up at him from the shadow of their hood, lips pursed at the question, another expense docket in their hands, fingers fiddling with it slightly. They examined the patiently sitting Sun, obviously weighing their choices, the profit and the loss of revealing information to the curious teen.

Looking away with a huff, they gazed steadfast in the opposite direction, only a slightly perturbed expression on their face, only given away by the slight thinning of their lips.

"The only constant in this world is money."

The Mist held the receipt to a print out, grunting for the Sun to punch a staple into the page. Daiki blinked, before pressing the stapler down and clicking the metal through the paper, quick to add it to the pile before repeating the process.

"What, do you have a problem with it?" They gritted, head still angled away.

The boy gazed at the illusionist, before cracking a smile, hand coming out to softly nudge the other, small body jumping and whipping around in indignation.

"I think you of all people, Mammon, know that I wouldn't have a problem with that." He hummed, sorting the papers into a neater stack and then getting to his feet.

"I'm going to the kitchens to get a drink, do you want anything?"

"...Strawberry milk." They said after a few moments.

"Be right back then."

The Arcobaleno watched the Sun go with an odd expression on their face, before starting and reaching out to stop the pen from rolling from the desk. Fantasma stirred from his seat atop the dark hood, a soft noise escaping him and making Mammon hum.

"I agree, Fantasma, Boss brings strange people into this building. But not entirely dislikable."

Xanxus frowned from his throne by the empty fireplace, the night too hot to condone such heating.

The Varia were gathered in the main living room of the Headquarters, clad in their loose and thin night clothes, deciding it too warm a time to turn in, rathering to spend just a little more time in less than polite company.

The room had been shifted, furniture dragged from one side to the other. Where the throne of the Sky once stood alone by the hearth, now was accompanied by a lavish couch, having been bought seemingly on a whim, but possessing too much golden trim to be a coincidence as the rogue Sun was all but dumped onto it, only an arm's reach from the Wrath.

Squalo still mocked the man openly for his behaviour, shrieks of laughter bouncing off of walls whenever he was present to watch his Boss get volley dropped by the new arrival.

And it only helped that Daiki and Squalo seemed to get along.

Xanxus' frown deepened with annoyance as he watched copper fingers thread through sliver, sorting knots and tangles softly. The expression of begrudged bliss that decorated the Rain's expression only worked to irk him more, the way he was seated between the rogue's feet, leaning back to be framed by strong legs already boiling the Sky's temper.

"Did you remember to take your pill this morning?" Leviathan asked, looking up from his picture puzzle.

"Yes, Levi, I did. You reminded me when I woke up." Daiki sighed, smiling minutely at the Lightning. "Your punctuality is very useful for this sort of thing."

"H-happy to help!" The man all but glowed, getting a scoff of disgust from the draped Storm.

Xanxus narrowed his eyes, temper letting his mouth fly.

"I don't know why you keep taking those pills. Just stop and deal with it. It's only once a month." He sniffed, narrowing his eyes in confusion when not one, but three heads whipped to him.

Lussuria's jaw was gaping open as he stared at his Boss in a mixture of horror and indignation, a hand on his chest as the other held his magazine open. Mammon was quietly gazing at him, hood covering their expression, but waves of annoyance emanating from their aura. Daiki's lips were pressed thin, and it made Xanxus wonder at the time for a moment, before they pulled into an irked frown to match his own.

"Menstruation is painful, uncomfortable, and a Goddamn mess!" Lussuria gasped, making Squalo raise an eyebrow.

"Not to mention expensive." Mammon hissed. "Why should you pay extra for an already non-profit experience?"

"Once a month can vary anywhere from three days to two weeks." Daiki added, before pausing and gazing off for a moment, free hand coming up to count quietly. "I am seventeen. I would have spent an average of 106 days of my life bleeding from the inside and experiencing internal pain."

"So, please," He hummed, gently getting up from the Rain and moving to the door. "Shut up, Xanxus."

"Oh," Xanxus narrowed his eyes at that, not liking the dark shine that came to gold. "I revoke your right to affection as punishment for your stupidity. It may begin again at ten o'clock post meridiem tomorrow. Goodnight, everyone."

Lussuria had to dodge a vase. Mammon had already fled.

Belphegor adamantly denied that his class had been given homework.

It took Daiki three minutes to find it shoved into Fantasma's bedding.

"Come along, Bel, let's get this done." The Sun sighed, dragging the flailing prince into the library.

"Ottone! I don't need to do it! I already know all this stuff!"

"I know you do, but you still have to fill in the answers." Daiki hummed, sitting the pouting Storm down at the table. "This stuff is easy, we both know it. But we both also know that the only reason you don't want to do it is because the working out is tedious."

"Incredibly so." The Prince whined, slumping against the elder in hopes it would woo out some sympathy.

Instead, what he got was a hand gently petting his hair, and a soft, airy laugh in his ear. He grumbled at the treatment, not at all used to it, despite knowing it was simply how to Suns of his Family tended to treat him.

"Come, I'll help you keep on track." Daiki urged, giving his hair one last relaxing comb before pushing him back straight.

"Hang on, Levi." The rogue warned, not looking up from his mixing bowl. "They're still going to need a little longer."

Leviathan nodded with a grunt and put the oven door back up, smiling slightly at the nice fragrance.

"Oh, and while you're there," Daiki continued, testing the sweetness before adding more sugar. "Could you please tell him that waiting by the door isn't going to make getting to the pastries any easier now that I know he's there."

The Lightning turned and gulped when he saw the Sky glowering into the kitchen, an expression that was as close to miffed as someone like the Wrath could get to marring his face as he glanced between the cooling rack and the baker.

Xanxus muttered a curse of annoyance before gliding into the room, narrowing his eyes at the beckoning of the Sun.

"Come here for a sec," Daiki requested, making the Sky walk over. "How does this taste?"

Leviathan choked on his inhalation as the rogue shoved a chocolate slathered thumb into the Harmoniser's mouth, his Sky not at all startled by the intimate approach.

"Good." Xanxus muttered, holding onto the copper wrist once the digit was removed, swiped clean.

"That doesn't tell me much." Daiki sighed, finally looking down to the shorter Wrath. "Does it need anything? Is it too sweet?"

"No, it's good." Came the insistence, the Mafia stepping forwards a bit more now that he had the Sun's attention.

"Okay, go sit somewhere and I'll give you the spoon later."

"Why not the bowl too?"

"Mammon already called dibs on the bowl."

Leviathan was suddenly glad he had forgotten to bags anything. He hoped Daiki would leave as much on the spoon for the Boss as he could.

The rogue murmured to himself as he read through his poetry book, adamantly skipping the stanzas he had used for his exams, not wanting to relive that trauma.

The bedroom was cooling with the large open windows allowing in an afternoon breeze, light curtains billowing around the seated Sun, the soft ripple of fabric and the 'fwip' of a crisp page turning. Tender, vermillion lips moved to quote and piece together phrases, copper fingers following the dark black ink as imperial topaz took in the crafted words.

He was lost in a world of his own, surrounded by the scents of the floral artworks that grew in the gardens, and smoky sandalwood incense that burnt to keep the insects at bay. Legs crossed lazily at the knee allowed his free foot to swing slightly, but stilling when Daiki blinked in surprise.

Amber-earth gazed in confusion at the little flower that had fallen into the margin of his book, bright red in colour, he lifted it and cradled it in his fingertips, assessing the fragile intruder with a soft expression.

"Yes, Daiki, beautiful. Hold it there."

The Sun jumped before whipping his head around, a snorted laugh bursting from his throat when he spotted his fellow Flame spread out across the floor with a camera in hand, leg kicked into the air for extra flamboyance.

"What are you doing?" He laughed, setting the tome aside to turn in his chair and face the Varia man.

"Taking picture of my handsome little brother~!"

Lussuria smiled at the teen, enjoying how the boy seemed to come loose around him, his camera clicking as the rogue covered his grin clumsily. The flamboyant Sun proceeded to roll across the carpeted floor to get a closer angle, laying out on his back as he snapped a picture of the baker leaning over the arm of the chair with an amused expression.

"And what will these pictures be used for, my sister? Camera film isn't cheap, you know?"

"Boss' birthday is coming up! I think he'd really like having pictures of you!" Lussuria chirped, before sighing wistfully. "Oh, I should have known Boss was always the romantic type."

"Romantic type?" Daiki snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Don't think that matches up, Sis."

"Oh, please, Daiki." The Varia huffed, getting to his feet and batting off his backside of any dust or lint he had collected. "You must like the Boss too, otherwise, I don't think you'd still be here."

The baker paused at that, lips parted in an aborted denial as he slowly moved to rest his jaw on his knuckles, stubbornly looking away from the knowing gaze of his self-proclaimed sister. Lussuria smiled at him, his hand coming to rest on strands on cobalt, softly carding, making golden eyes shut.

"Be gentle with him, Daiki. He is only young." The A Varia Sun breathed, taking the little red flower from copper fingers and tucking it behind the other's ear.

Xanxus remained still as he watched the rogue Sun circle the room, the copper brow pinched in an unexplained tension that had the Sky unsettled even as he relaxed into his pillowed headboard. Vermillion orbs followed the stilted prowl, trying to decipher and pick dissect the walk, to find reason for his Lotus' sway.

He didn't mind really, the distance allowed for magmatic red to view the Sun in his totality, able to see clearly as legs moved across the floor, women's shorts only hiding so much, and that insatiably tiny piece of material that was an excuse of a shirt didn't manage to cover any of the abdominal muscles that showed themselves with pride when the barer tensed and drew copper skin taut over them. But, scenery or not, the Sky was growing unsatisfied with the lack of warmth under his palms and sunshine scent fresh in his senses.

"What's the matter this time?" He snapped, eyeing how a brass flesh knuckle was held between shards of shattered pearl, seeing how cold skin sunk under the white.

Honey mixed with liquid gold turned on him for a moment, and the Wrath wanted to demand him over, but couldn't utter the command as they turned away and furrowed. Then, Daiki's head tilted up, and he spoke a small 'oh'.

"That explains it...I guess I haven't been handling that well since this whole debacle began. Should have expected it would come around sooner or later." He muttered, grasping the back of his neck in a soothing motion as he sighed.

Xanxus raised an eyebrow as the Sun looked down at himself thoughtfully, before the Boss loudly demanded an explanation from the baker, getting a glance and a dismissive shrug.

"I'm aroused. I haven't had any sort of release for a while because you've all been taking up a good portion of my time." Was the simple answer.

The Wrath sat up, holding a golden gaze, watching how it absently darkened into a boiling amber and aureate. Lotus petal soft lips pulled into what he saw as an almost mocking smile, before the copper being was moving.

Daiki closed the bathroom door behind him. Xanxus was on his feet.

"Daiki." He warned, grabbing the handle and twisting it, a spike of irritation coming when he found it securely locked. "Open the door, Daiki."

When he was only met with silence, the Sky snarled and clambered over their bed to pull open his drawers, grunting in frustrating when he couldn't find the key to the bathroom. Xanxus paused, before cursing seven unholy layers when he remembered its place on the bathroom counter, having left it in there since his last bath with the Sun, only days ago.

"Open the door!" He snarled, thumping the wooden panel with the side of his fist, before freezing up.

The faintest of breaths came through, and he found himself pressing closer to listen, eyes widening and jaw clenching when he heard it again, clearer, and the door jumped.

The Wrath spat in rage when he realised the closeness, Daiki leaning against the other side of the door, literally a few mere centimetres away, pleasuring himself senseless on the tiled floor. He bared his teeth and slammed his pelvis up against the frame, hating how hot his body had grown, loving how rich it felt to rut against the hard surface, vicious, as if trying to feel the Sun through it.

Xanxus pulled himself off with a hiss, refusing to fall that low for something as immature as this, before turning on his heel and crossing his arms, stubbornly sitting himself back on their bed. His chest glistened with Summer sweat as he tried to loosen his breath, the heavy, fast pants that had come out before only serving to frazzle his nerves further and provoke his biology.

The door thunked, as if something had been dropped against it - a cobalt head falling back and exposing a pillar of shimmering copper. The bathroom's tiles were both a heaven send and a hellish punishment as the Sky was forced to endure the echoing gasps and hisses, soft groans and the sparse, high-pitched clicks of a wet anatomy.

He snarled and raised his hands to cover his ears, but found the pressure he placed over them weak and riddled with gaps, willingly allowing the soft, pleased voice of the copper being float in and blight his brain. Then there was a definite 'squelch' and the based voice of the Sun uttered something that would be stained in the Wrath's ears for years upon years to come.


Nails scratched thick scores into the flesh of the door, teeth on display as the Sky hissed and raged, ramming his knees and hips into the separation.

"Daiki!" He roared, kicking the lower end.

There was a choke, before a blood boiling moan fell from caramel vocals, soft and quiet hums and praise cascading from lotus lips, driving the Sky crazy for a dose of narcotic. It continued on and on, mocking and teasing the Varia Boss with tantalising closeness and an impenetrable gate to keep him at obedient bay. He groaned and rotated his pelvis against the door, jolting when it rocked back with the force of the one on the other side.

"Open," Xanxus gritted, voice dropped to a heavy octave. "The door, Daiki."

A sharp curse sounded through the crack in the door, a high pitched squeal of ceramic coming after - dark copper fingers sliding across white tile in an attempt to ground themselves.

Xanxus could imagine it. He could imagine his Lotus shoved up against the door, seated on the cold tile floor with his legs splayed open for ease of access and basic instinct. He could almost see how copper would shine with sweat and long digits would gleam as they swirled and followed an in-and-out motion, lathering themselves with nectar as golden eyes went hazy.

His spine shivered as the vision sank its claws into his brain, salivation pooling in his mouth as he rutted to the idea, the idea of a Lotus blooming in pleasure in a hidden place of cold white, sinners clawing at the gates.


It was heavier this time. Heaved and panted, uttered with an urgency.

The Sky grabbed the knob and rattled it in edging franticness, needing the door open, needing to see the end if not the build. Even as his hand fumbled with the brass knob, his hips hadn't stopped their attempts for salvation, trousers grating against wood and sending responding bangs back to the one who sighed on the other side.

"Xanxus." It came again, louder, clearer, hastier.

Nails bit into rough palms as vermillion orbs boiled into volcanic magma, face flushed with rage and arousal as the Wrath heaved, clutching the knob and the frame, wood creaking from the rough treatment as he continued to call for the Sun, wanting the heat to consume him wholly and burn him alive.

"Xanxus, Xanxus- fuck! Xanxus!"

Xanxus held his breath, not wanting the distracting, rasping cacophony of his own respiration to mottle the sound of bliss that fled from the Lotus. His brow and his hips were pressed to the door as he listened, letting the tender, vocal-laced breaths wash over his ears until they were raw. He remained still until the rustle of clothes sounded, bare feet padded across the floor and the faucet turned on, the splashing of water removing the blight of the pleasure of flesh from the golden-eyed man.

The Sky grit his teeth as he stepped back, the door creaking open to show a much more relaxed Daiki, a light flush still touching coppery cheeks, inhalations just the slightest bit longer. If it were anyone else, they would never have realised just what the Sun had done. Daiki tilted his head before curling his lips in a humoured smile, handprints of tap water on his night shorts, looking like phantom hands clutching his hips.

Xanxus snarled before grabbing a brass wrist and dragging the Lotus forwards, forcing a hand against the firm biology as he used vermillion to burn into gold.

"This needs to be dealt with." He snarled, watching unaffected honey shine with amusement.

"Okay." Daiki sighed, before leaning forwards and pressing the briefest kiss on the Sky.

Wrath snapped his gaze to the clock. Another hour gone for a split second.

"Okay," Daiki repeated, drawing attention back to him, smile still present, aftershocks still making his skin warm. "The bathroom's all yours then."

"What?" He uttered, eyes wide as the Sun stepped aside and pushed the Sky into the tiled room.

"Don't worry, I won't interfere. Take all the time you need, friend." Daiki reassured cheerily, before closing the door with a resounding 'boom!'.

Chapter Text

(X) Chapter Warning: Explicit Sexual Content (X)

Word Count: 10,875

"That is the last thing I want to do."

Xanxus willed himself to remain patient as Daiki remained splayed across their bed, laying on his stomach as he gazed over his shoulder in a miffed fashion. It didn't seem to be working, as he bared his teeth at the man, trying not to be distracted by the drop of sweat that slid down the dipped line of his curling spine.

"You make it sound like you have a choice." The Sky huffed, crossing his arms, making his formal shirt rustle. "Get up and get ready, we're going to a fucking dinner with those assholes."

"Since when did you respond to summons?" Daiki asked.

"Food." He muttered, glaring irritably off to the side.

Daiki snorted, but sat up and stretched, the blankets falling and showing the naked back of the Sun, copper and brass shining with Summer perspiration. The flesh rippled with muscle and tension as the being flexed and stretched, loosening lazy knots as a bone-deep moan fell from his lips.

Xanxus remained still as golden eyes turned on him from over a shining shoulder, both form and eyes glowing with a languid heat. His hands gripped the opposite bicep in a bruising grip, a ditch effort to keep himself stable.

That dinner was looking a lot less appetizing now, as he gazed at the creature of fine tastes.

"Okay, what am I expected to wear then?" Daiki hummed, massaging his neck, still not completely turned, front only presented to the headboard.

"This." The Wrath grunted, tossing a plastic wrapped piece onto their bed. "And yes, it's a suit this time."

"Not formals?" Daiki huffed, an almost humoured tone coming to his voice.

"Not formals." Xanxus reassured, keeping the quirk of his lip under control.

The Sun tilted his head in an observing fashion, the mark of teeth and possession on his neck having faded to nothing more than a light discolouration despite the Sky's best efforts. It made the Mafia grit his jaw, wanting the salty, metallic wash on his tongue and the hand ripping his hair in an act of revenge.

Daiki hummed after watching him simmer for a few moments, before reaching out and pulling the tassel cord that hung on the edge of the headboard, the curtain that draped around the four-poster flying shut with a sharp 'shwip'.

Xanxus twitched. A light turned on. And the curling silhouette of the copper being was cast against the deep red.

He inhaled sharply, and the sandalwood incense that Daiki insisted on burning invaded his senses with a vengeance, no longer willing to be ignored by the rabid noble's nose as everything enraptured him at once. Daiki stretched once more, showing how shoulders bunched and undid, a full body shiver rattling the dark frame, before he got up on his knees and turned. The waves and sharp angles were not missed, nor were they taken lightly as the Sky drank in the dark, nearly serpentine outline of the Sun, the curve of a breast becoming touched in self-inquisition.

The Wrath manually swallowed, cursing silently when it sounded loud in his own ears.

"Could you give me my binder?" Daiki asked, twisting his body impossibly, trying to get a kink out of his back.

"Fine." Xanxus bit out, movements forced and robotic as he rummaged through the Sun's drawers to find a fresh restriction.

He returned to the spilt in the vermillion threshold and glared at it in offence, before making a noise. His breath came out loud as he watched the form turn, before moving onto hands and knees, crawling forwards, forwards, until he could hear the soft exhale of the Sun's breath. Fingers breached the border, and a long, copper arm slid out, gleaming with sweat and salinity. It rotated, action an almost contortionist graceful, before their hands grazed.

"Are you going to let go?" The Sun asked, making the Sky blink, before releasing the binder like it had burnt him.

And as quick as it came, the solar arm withdrew back into the vermillion oblivion.

"How long is this going to take?" Daiki asked, shimmying his way into the material.

Xanxus watched how soft flesh bulged in rebellion, before sliding under its constriction, the baker twisting and rotating himself until he was comfortable in his own skin again.

"Three." Was the decided answer, and it made the pitch shadow sigh, hands sliding down their own silhouette in a soothing manner.

Three hours. Three kisses. Three displays. Three claims.

"I better get to eat all I want." Daiki grumbled, pulling his clothes to him and undoing their plastic, dry cleaner wrapping and shrugging on the items like they weren't worth a small chest of gold.

Xanxus tried blinked away the image of the Sun's chest drooling liquid aureate, how it would gleam with perspiration and melted down luxury. He tried, oh he tried to will away the phantom breaths of airy delight that were panted into his ears, the way that the Lotus would purr and gasp as the hot dribble was poured onto his collarbone, pooling in the dips before overflowing like the falls of El Dorado. He attempted to ignore how he knew the biology would react to the introduction, how skin would rise like brass pebbles and how the softness of his peaks would stiffen from the contrast of hot and cold.

Such thoughts would do him no good for now - for now.

"I guess this'll do."

The Wrath faced forwards as the Sun stepped out, clad in a two piece business suit of a rich black. Daiki had dressed himself impeccably, and was in the process of threading his cuffs with his teeth and tongue as his other hand busied itself with his final shirt button.

"You seem to know what you're doing." Xanxus commented, staring shamelessly.

"Not the first time I've worn this sort of thing." Daiki shrugged, smoothing down his lapels and collar before loading up his pockets with his required possessions.

The Sky's eyes narrowed.

"When could you have needed to wear a suit?"


"You're a baker."

The Sun paused, before looking over his shoulder and smiling in the most blood-boiling manner.

"That's what you think."

Xanxus snarled and slammed his hands down on the tallboy on either side of the man, trapping him against the piece as he pushed himself against the other's back. He snapped his teeth near a copper ear, grinning in a satisfied, feral manner as he felt the rippling of a shudder go through the baker's son, lobe of soft skin coming to be pinched between his sharp calcium, the angry scratching of nails becoming balled into fists sounding so wonderfully.

A hand shot out and crashed across the Sky's cheek as the Sun spun around, face the faintest of reds as he glared with such a volatile anger, that Xanxus couldn't help the sigh that came with the warmth that arose from the heated rage. Fingers gripped the Wrath's jaw in a bruising grip, tips pressing into his cheeks and threatening to crack his mandible as he was tugged closer, vermillion wide with rapt attention for gold.

"You watch yourself, Xanxus." Daiki growled, and the Sky groaned against his palm.

Say it more. Say it more. Say his name like it was acidic to his larynx. Say his name until it lost its meaning. Say his name until it was carved into the air and his ears. Say his name until it made him physically sick.

The clock rung out, and the Wrath flung himself at the Sun, feeling arms wrap around his waist and a hand dig its nails in his scalp as Daiki bit his way into a willing cavern, bodies flush together, as if in an effort to force themselves into each other's abdominal cavity. Tongues fought and slid over themselves in a feral manner that had their mouths watering messily, snarls echoing in the cavern of the other's mouth.

The separation was reluctant and loud, a growl of annoyance seeping from Xanxus' throat as their tongues hung free, a bridge of saliva holding them stubbornly as the Sky heaved. Daiki tilted his head and licked his lips for a moment, before lowering his head closer to the other's and gently nosing at the Wrath, making him freeze, before slowly relaxing and begrudgingly reciprocating the soft nuzzle of all things.

"I'm hungry," Daiki muttered, their brows still resting against each other. "Are we going now?"

"Yeah." He huffed, feeling the warm Sun fix his dark hair.

God fucking damn it.

Xanxus snarled into his cup as he glared around the room, the place brimming with young aristocrats, spoilt in both attitude and blood. They each had arrived with a pretty thing on their arm, but a few of them had been abandoned by their guests for other company.

Xanxus was one of the unlucky few.

Daiki, at some point, had slipped off from the Sky's side and was now frolicking with whoever the fuck he had reeled in to walk to the table for his lazy ass. It had been an hour, easy, since he had lost track of his Lotus amongst the high floating trash, and his vermillion eyes were dragging a burning line through the hall as he scanned the place.

It felt like Daiki was dodging him - no, Daiki was dodging him. While the hall was by no means small, it wouldn't take an hour of even passive searching to find someone as outstanding as Daiki Yamaguchi, tall stature and all. So that meant, the man was aware of where he was, and was actively sidestepping all approaches.

"Daiki." He growled, the crowd giving him a wider breath as response. "I swear to God when I find you I will make sure you stay."

Daiki kind of wished he had stayed with Xanxus at this point.

"Wow, Japan!?" The blond gaped, glass newly emptied - on the floor, that is. "I have a friend that went to Japan, crazy 'bout swords that guy."

Dino of the Cavallone, Tenth Boss certified, had wrapped his arm around the blue haired boy's shoulders and ushered him to sit with the Mafia for a while, nearly tripping on the way there and needing Daiki to carry him the last few steps.

"Really?" The Sun breathed, playing with his flute of champagne, not really liking the brand.

"Yeah! Haha, though he'd probably deny knowing me at all, knowing him." He laughed, voice taking on a self-deprecating tone.

"I'm sure he cares about you, deep down." The baker hummed, sipping his drink anyway. "Really deep down."

"Okay, wow, ow, my feelings."

"I'm sure they'll heal."

Dino pouted before looking to his glass and gaping at its empty state, before looking up and beaming when he saw a waiter make a turn about the room with a tray full of champagne. He got to his feet and made to stop the man, but stumbled on an unevenness of the carpet and ended up backhanding the tray and its contents all over the finely dressed man.

Daiki's face was carefully blank even as he covered his mouth, a tiny huff of amusement bursting out as he watched the teen scramble to help the quietly drenched man.

"Are you sure you're not drunk, Cavallone?" He asked as the waiter walked away with a tray of broken glass, and the Mafia heir deflated with a red face.

"No, I'm just painfully clumsy."

"How unfortunate."

Dino blinked, before wincing as he looked up, a small 'eep' escaping him and making the Sun raise an eyebrow.

"Shit! Xanxus spotted me! Gah, he's probably still angry at me for pushing him down the stairs!"

"You did what?" Daiki blurted, eyebrows shooting up.

"It was an accident! I tripped and he was in front of me so-"


The Sun turned his gaze on the Sky with open interest, not bothering to even acknowledge the dangerous edge on the Wrath's voice as he greeted the man with a short hum.

"Oh, Cavallone was just talking about you. Apparently, you fell down the stairs."

Volcanic vermillion slashed over to the cringing blond, the poor Dino giving a squeal of fear when he saw what he was subject to.

"I apologised!"

"Be nice," Daiki sighed, catching attention again, taking another slide of champagne, and then grimacing. "Here, it's too dry for my taste."

Dino blinked with wide eyes as Xanxus took the offered flute and drank it without complaint, not seeming to care that it was second hand alcohol. He tilted his head, confusion overflowing, before looking to their knees, and stalling when he noticed the purposeful closeness, black slacks blending into one another.

"You know each other?" He managed out, glancing between the two.

"Of course." Xanxus growled, narrowing his eyes.

"Sadly." Daiki sighed, reclining back into the loveseat they had claimed. "He was such an annoying kid when we were younger. Still is."

"Says you," The Sky scowled. "I didn't fucking parkour the rooftops."

"You knew each other when you were young?" Dino asked, despite how something told him not to get between these two.

"Since that thing was, maybe, seven?" The Sun offered, glancing to the other for clearance.

"Maybe." Xanxus shrugged, before grabbing the man's arm and pulling him off the couch. "C'mon, we're going to fucking dance."

"You know, in most situations, offering your hand while saying 'may I have this dance?' usually is the way to go." Daiki huffed, reaching out and putting his hand on the Sky's waist.

A hand had fallen to his waist too.

The two men paused and glanced at the awkward criss-cross of arms that had taken place, and though they found it a bit of an embarrassing mix up, both refused to be the one to back out.

"So," Daiki started, looking to the Sky, both noticing how the music had started again and people were turning around them, giving the only stationary couple glances. "How are we going to do this."

"I'm the lead."

"But I'm taller."

"I can dance better."

"Debatable. You can rest your head on my chest."

Xanxus didn't respond, but bared his teeth as he moved his hand to the older's shoulder.

"There we go." Daiki hummed, drawing the other forwards until they were pressed flush, getting a bit of a noise from the Sky, before they were moving in time with the rest of the floor.

Xanxus bowed his head as his ears burnt, feeling the confused eyes on him as he danced the submissive role with another man, but he couldn't find it in himself to care all that much as a hand guided his head against a firm chest and let him rest it there as they swayed, the hand on his waist guiding him around.

"You feeling okay?" Daiki asked, voice soft for a personal conversation in a public place.

"Yeah." Xanxus muttered, holding onto the copper hand in his own with a kind of possessive vigilance.

"You were gone for a good bit of the day," The Sun continued, gazing down at the Sky. "You were with Timoteo, weren't you?"

The Wrath twitched, but relaxed again when a hand pressed against the small of his back, thumb stroking the dip in his vertebrae.

"Yeah, so what?"

"I heard you threw a vase."


"That was worth a small fortune."



Xanxus huffed and turned his head to press his nose against the man's collar, feeling the hand around his squeeze for a split second.

"You need to get your priorities straight." Daiki sighed, letting a soft sound get channelled into the material cladding his shoulder.


"Why not?"

"Not straight myself." The Sky shrugged, before pausing as a booming laughter sounded from above, the chest against his rumbling with delight.

"Jesus Christ, Xanxus!" His Lotus snorted, face alight with amusement and humour, cheeks pinched in an unbridled grin. "I wasn't expecting that from you!"

Xanxus tilted his head, taking in how amber dribbled gold were wrinkling in the corners as they shone with a giddy gild. A row of sharp pearl were displayed in a guardless smile, the arm around his waist pulling him closer seemingly subconsciously.

The Wrath slowly unravelled his hands from the man's and cupped the higher face, pulling him down with little resistance. It had been two hours, and so he milked them for all they were worth, humming and sighing into the vermillion mouth flushed against his. He shivered harshly when he felt the Sun push up against him, the arm constricting him bordering a wonderfully painful as the other crept to his nape and clung.

The separation was hesitant and begrudged on both sides, brows coming to rest against each other as they panted quietly.

"Stop that." He grunted, referring to the dizzy smile that still buzzed on his own lips.

"Why would I do that?" Daiki asked, lightly fingering the dip of the man's spine.

Vermillion eyes surveyed the room, and a layer of disgust coated them in a hued shine.

"There's too much trash here."

Women and men danced around them in hypnotic swirls of kaleidoscopic colour, the laughter and clinking of glasses tinkling in the air like the lights twinkled off the chandeliers that watched over the perfectly putrid people. The two stood still amongst the churning currents of colour, couples weaving around them as they swayed out of rhythm, not listening to the music that bounced off their ears.

"I want to..." Daiki started, before gritting his teeth.

Xanxus blinked, his face carefully blank as the man narrowed his eyes.

"Ten hours." He declared, pulling back the smallest bit, connecting vermillion and gold. "I agree to lift the restrictions for ten hours. Do you consent?"


Xanxus opened his mouth, and lunged forwards. He snarled as he bit his way into the Sun's mouth, teeth clashing and canines hooking onto each other in their ferocity, tongues sliding back and forth in disgusting desperation as they kissed with open mouths, lips pulled back into angry sneers. They hated, hated, hated, how far they had fallen.

But God damn it, they'd do it again.

Daiki gagged and hooked his fingers into the Sky's mouth, tugging him away like reigns on a horse.

"I want to go to bed." He snapped, their patience minimal at best.

Xanxus growled and crushed the copper hand in his before bodily dragging the Lotus from the mass of movement.

He had ten hours, and he'd use them well.

Xanxus tugged and yanked at the clothes of the Sun, but the man held strong as he ignored the advances, toeing off his shoes and happily seating himself on their bed.

The Sky growled but followed suit, huffing as he dropped down, feeling an arm coil around his waist loosely. He snarled and shoved himself against the other, fitting their bodies until no space remained, an infernal heat bubbling between them from under their skins as teeth grazed a copper neck to spark a reaction.

Nails dug into his waist before he was thrown away with a vicious strength, a hiss of anger and pain leaving his clenched jaw as his cranium crashed against the headboard and sent a bloom of warm pain across his scalp. The Wrath snapped his teeth as a huge and grand form consumed the light of the room and enshrouded him in the shade, golden dribbled amber glaring down at him with such molten intensity that he found himself cowed and courageous.

A hand found his shirt and with violent disregard, the Sun tore down the seam, buttons bending under his will and fleeing upon their release. Arctic fingers spread out along the Sky's stomach and left glacial runes in Summer warm flesh, tanned skin pebbling with the cold as the long brass and copper explored with all the elegance of a colonisation. Petal lips twitched before Daiki pulled back and sat on his heels, a grin of pleasant sins painting his face grimly as he gazed down, looking too much like some sort of deity for vermillion eyes to comprehend.

Daiki lazily tongued at his own lips before humming a low note of self-appreciation, undoing his clothes in a luxuriously languid manner. Xanxus bolted up at the first sight of copper-caramel skin, but was batted away with an infernal ease, his ears ringing as the blow to his temple registers, and the near sharp, near blunt dig in his hands came to. Volcanic ruby dropped to his limbs and he held a wheeze when he saw them pinned beneath the Sun's knees, the being of copper and cobalt kneeling on him like some sort of altar step.

"Stay." Daiki decreed, and the Sky felt his body become stone despite there being no Medusa.

The baker tilted his head at the Mafia in a show of superiority, a huff of amusement on his lips, before he shrugged off his suit and shirt. They were of no true importance to him, so he disregarded them without thought, fingering the line of his binder as he surveyed the plains before him.

"Up." He said suddenly, dismounting and walking away from the bed.

Xanxus shot up in surprise, hands balling as he watched the man move around.

"I said, up." Daiki reiterated with irritation, glancing over his shoulder with a molten gold.

The Wrath paused before getting to his feet with grit teeth, tension high as he felt horrendously full.

The Sun tsked at the attitude before coming over with easy strides. He reached out, and the Sky waited, watching the tanned fingers snag his tattered shirt then tugged at the band of his belt.

"Take them off."

Xanxus blinked, before scowling at the Sun, hating how his hands rose and shrugged off his shirt as demanded. His lips were pulled back in an outraged snarl as he unbuckled and tossed away his belt, letting it thud loudly on the floor before stepping out of the pool of his pants. The Wrath was by no means ashamed or shy when it came to his body, taking a pride in his physique, knowing that, even with his young age, he was a well-known symbol of desire amongst the Mafia community.

However, the way that liquid aureate and amber fell upon him, made him want to curl. The way that they seemed to leave intangible rivers of warmth upon his skin as they fell along his body was something else entirely, it made him stir from within, and the hum of approval made him step forwards, accepting the hand that cupped his waist.


It was Xanxus who uttered the order this time, and the Sun scoffed at him, seemingly amused by his mortal squeaking. The grand being slowly angled himself, however, as if humouring a lesser, and allowed himself to be subjected to touch. Daiki hummed as hands slid up the flesh dunes of his abdominals and arms wrapped around his neck, a mouth anchored to his.

Their biting was lazy this time, like they were languidly sinking their teeth into one another, rumbling low notes into warm chasms as hands wandered, branding Summer skins of copper and simple tan. Tongues wrapped and slid over each other like passing snakes, writhing bodies slathered in hot nectar. The Sky rumbled a note deep and tugged at the bindings of the Sun insistently, demanding the removal.

Daiki scoffed, stepped back, and yanked the Mafia's trousers with a feral intent, the sound of material ripping under his will sounding through the room as the zipper and button gave out. Xanxus shouted his disapproval, sinking his nails into the proud collarbone of the other, before bucking in a volatile manner as an Arctic hand invaded the domain of his pants. He bared his teeth at the Sun, feeling the fingers on his waist holding him strong as long, limber fingers played with the fibres of the undergarments, pressed so close but not close enough.


Vermillion widened as black drank down the golden ambrosia pools, a deep, endless void of Shade swallowing and expanding, triggered by the Sky's voice alone. It made his body tingle with Pride and Lust, fingers buzzing as they clung to the Sun's nape and binder, arms shaking with tension as his legs progressively weakened, soft, barely existent touches dancing up the inside of his spine.

A tongue began pressing to the underside of the Wrath's jaw, forcing him to tilt his head back and expose his throat, relishing in the sensation of salivic nectar being stroked into his Summer hot skin. It moulded against his pulse and stripped the salt from his flesh, feeling the acceleration of his breath as it pet at his vulnerable pillar. And then there were teeth. And then there was blood.

And then Xanxus gave forth a broken, senseless moan.

Sharp shards of pearl sank into his flesh in a ferociously gentle, blunt force puncture. It made his body break out into shivers and goosebumps. It made his breath stutter and tremble, catching his voice and making every exhale weaved with sighs.


A spiral of blissing perfection piqued through the Wrath's body as his name was whispered into his ear, the bass voice carrying on hot breath and melting him from the inside, turning all of his self to liquid lust. Vermillion blood rushed like the devil was chasing it, veins and arteries singing with praise as the wound on his neck pulsed with a loving heartbeat.

It was just touching. It was just speaking.

And yet he felt like he was going to give out and give up. Give up all he had, all he had to the Sun, to the deity who had him in his grasp, who held him to a copper cast body and spoke a language forged from the skeletons of snakes.

"Bed." Xanxus breathed firmly, tugging the other back a step towards the canopy.

Amber dipped gold glanced to him, stirring his insides.

"These. Off." Daiki ordered, jostling the bands of his lower layers.

The Sky growled when warmth was denied to him, the copper being stepping back to allow him room. Volcanic eyes watched as muscles rippled with motion, fingers hooking on as a lithe, strong, caramel body writhed its way out of the binding material, the swell of mammalian glands and soft tissue falling free with a relieved sigh.

An eyebrow was crooked at the Wrath in expectation when he was noticed, his static self coming under observation, before he robotically began to grind his joints into motion. Ruby scanned the grand body before him as he freed himself under the command, viewing with a spectacular focus, taking in every runic, lacing pattern left in skin by the press of material, every bruise of binding, every scar of childhood.

Daiki chucked away his underwear without care, before curling his arms above his head and stretching his spine in an elegant circumference, shoulder blades bunching before falling in a fascinating manner. He hummed, and checked his watch, before unlatching and tossing it into his pile of clothes as well.

Golden eyes floated to Xanxus lazily, and took in what they were shown.

Xanxus felt like Daiki enjoyed what he saw.

The Sun crossed the distance with a lethal confidence, hips swaying in a feminine, yet masculine manner that boiled deep in the Sky's belly. When they met, a glacial hand came, and pressed against the plains of the Wrath's chest, dark hair prickling with the chill that they brought.

He gave a grunt, falling back into the bed when he was pushed with little force. Ruby looked up at the towering form, head tilted back to take in the whole haloed, copper being.

"Make yourself comfortable." Daiki gestured, nodding to the strewn pillows that they had disturbed upon entry.

Xanxus glanced, before crawling over and dropping himself onto them in a relishing manner, enjoying the scent of caramel, wine and fire mixed in them. Rolling onto his back, he lazed as he watched a fantastic form begin to crawl, and prowl, and slither up the sheets and his splayed legs. Lips of lotus texture and bloodied colour curled and made his heart race an aggressive speed as they laid on his naval, deceptively tender kisses forging a burning trail up his strong stomach, chest and throat until his lips were claimed again.

Xanxus groaned as they rocked together, tongues and bodies twisting as they slotted in humidifying and humanising manners. Hands grappled and teeth gripped, searching, plundering, claiming-

Until Daiki got to his knees, ran a hand through his cobalt hair, dragging his damp fringe from his molten gold eyes, wet and bruised lips curling in the most satisfied and mocking manner. And he sank down.

Xanxus roared.

The vice grip of velveteen walls was an absolute paradise for the Wrath as he sank his nails into the copper hips that were perched upon his. It was perfect, perfect, perfect. Oh God, he was going to break.

"Move." The Sky grunted, wanting sensation and gratification.

Daiki didn't.

"What's wrong?" He gritted out, gazing up at the Sun whose face was pinched in a forced relaxation and focus.

"Gimme a sec," Daiki sighed, tilting his head back, taking measured breaths. "This is the first time I've allowed someone my body like this."

Volcanic vermillion eyes widened as a terrified thrill shot through him as he registered, lips falling open and curling into an utterly satisfied smile as something deep within him purred.

"First time?" He repeated, fishing for more.

Daiki scoffed, patting his own stomach as if he'd feel the pillar of flesh that had been added to his own anatomy.

"I don't entrust my body to just anyone." The Sun hummed, before leaning back and stationing his hands on the strong thighs of the Sky. "So you better make this worth my time."

A moan bubbled from the Wrath's lips and spilt forth as he watched the pieces slot together again and again, a wet border forming as the baker exhaled in relaxation. It was languid and conforming, both of them getting used to the intense fire that welled below their navels and called for the other. It was a shaky rhythm that stirred their insides, the swift and accelerating in and out, in and out that catered to their basic instincts and satisfied something carnal within them.

Xanxus groaned from between his teeth and reached, grabbing a handful of a swell of soft flesh, getting a jolt as response and a hand laying over his. His hips tried to roll, tried to force their tempo higher, but the Sun had full control of their fornication, herculean strength not allowing the Wrath any give. He began panting, the slow, torturous rise beginning. The friction, the slap, the slide, the sigh.

The gleam of copper skin, the groan rumbling deep in a brass chest, the sharp clutch of pearly teeth sinking into red lotus lips, the sway of cobalt locks, the lusting, lustrous shine of golden eyes.

Hands came and pressed down on his chest, grand body arching over his as nails sank into his shoulders, teeth coming to bare at the laid out offering. Daiki rose and fell in increasingly volatile rhythms, the claws of the Wrath scoring the wide copper back as he clung on, head light. The Sun scowled and wrapped his hand around the Sky's throat, forcing him back into the pillows and causing him to gasp.

Xanxus' eyes widened, before his lips split into an exultant grin, a hand coming to grasp the wrist as their bodies continued to bounce and coil. He coughed and gasped through his moans, feeling his brain buzz and his limbs tingle as his breath was embraced by rough brass hands.

"Daiki." He choked, clawing at the arm that held him down, wanting to take more of the Sun's warmth against him, even as his hips snapped fruitlessly.

"Daiki. Dai-ki!"

The Wrath threw his head back and gave a diaphragm sourced moan as his body tensed and relaxed in a single motion, back arching up off their sheets, chest pressing to the being above him in a desperate plea for more. More contact, more touch, more- fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Daiki, fuck, stop! Enough!" He snarled, highly sensitive and bordering on painful as the man kept fucking himself on an increasingly flaccid thing.

Daiki blinked slowly, head tilting minutely, face carefully blank. He ceased, however, sitting on the other, not removing himself.

"Why?" He asked, getting the Sky to grit his teeth.

"Didn't you fucking feel it? I'm done!" Xanxus snapped, ears flushing from a mixture of hormones and embarrassment from such a fast finish.

Lips twitched.

"Well, I'm not."

And he started again, making the Sky throw his head back in a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure as the Sun focused on himself, shoulders bunching as the baker began to shake, cheeks flushing in a manner that the Mafia knew he was no doubt mirroring even as he bordered on an excruciating overload. He began writhing as the hand around his throat tightened, before releasing and being substituted by hot lips.

Xanxus groaned as the other tongued and played with the crescents of pain he had embedded into the Wrath's jugular, licking and nursing it in a deceptively apologetic way. A low noise vibrated into his ear and his body went up in flames, shivering all over as the Sun rolled himself again and again, their chests bumping and their lips moulding.

Daiki began shivering and growling erratic, nails digging into the Sky's shoulders before dragging scores of white fire down the tanned chest. The Wrath gaped and arched, pressing into the sharp pain that cascaded down his front, spider-webbing through his skin and seeping into his capillaries.

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

Vermillion eyes were wide with rapt focus as his Lotus rippled and tilted his head back, cobalt fluttering and aureate squeezing shut as copper pebbled with sensation. His fingers bore bruises into restless brass hips, following them as they pushed down with a dangerous strength, threatening to cave in his pelvis with their downward strength, trying to force more of the pillar of flesh into that pulsing, velvet vice.

A long exhale signed the end of the copper and cobalt being's high, breath wonderfully ragged as honey gold eyes fell onto a hued face, lips curling at the sight. Daiki puffed a sweet breath, before slumping forwards, Wrathful hands sliding up from hips to settle on the grand expanse of caramel skin.

"Mm," The bakery hummed, rubbing the corner of their jaws together as their pectorals and breast pushed up against each other, bouncing a heartbeat between. "I want to go again."

Xanxus shivered despite the riotous heat of their shared space, inhaling a deep breath of their shared scents as he clutched the deifyable man to him.

"My ankles hurt though...Swap."

The Sky gave a shout as the Sun grabbed him by the hair and dragged him without care or regard until he was forced to hold his own weight. Daiki relaxed languidly into the sheets as he stretched himself out, cracking a long copper spine into a feline arch of a lotus' world.

Xanxus shuddered as his back was exposed, no longer safely trapped beneath the brass man, but sighed with a new thrill as he forced his sluggish arms to keep him up gazing down at the lazily reciprocating older, rich eyes looking back up.

His Lotus, splayed out on his back for him, however in no way submissive, simply doing it for his own comfort and ease. Cobalt hair spread around him in a dark azure halo, and honey eyes were deep with arousal, lips wet with kisses and saliva, parted in a smile as he panted. A brass, Summer sweat slicked chest rose and fell with an urgency as arms of chorded muscle curled above his head, exposing the being in all their exotic, erotic and ethereal glory.

"Your turn," He yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Your turn to put the effort in."

Xanxus wasted no time in connecting their nectar coated anatomy, slotting in place so perfectly that shivers danced along his spine. The vice held him in a tight embrace, threatening to snap him should he move in a displeasurable way. Thighs of near pure muscle bracketed trembling hips, ready to crush his pelvis should he disobey, rendering him immobile and incapable to run or defend, forever trapped to their bed and subjected to satiating fornication with a golden gilded Lotus.

Disobeying didn't seem all that terrible, now that he thought about it.

Daiki hummed at the intrusion and brought his hands up to curl around the Sky's nape, fingers lacing with midnight hair in a gentle way that made the Wrath's breath airy and light. He smiled a sultry little thing, before guiding the mortal man down to let trembling lips lay upon his smirking ones, crooning a sin-laced song of bodies and fluids as the kisses grew wet with not one sided desperation.

The Sun licked his lips of their share as Xanxus pushed their lock closer, taking up caramel thighs in his hands as an anchor. Bruised vermillion curled in an amused satisfaction, like the baker was pleased by something secret.

"Come one then. Impress me, Xanxus."

The Sky exhaled through his nose as he continued to suckle on a darkened peak, nursing himself on sweat and saliva as a copper hand pet along his back in slow strokes.

They were tired. They were so tired.

Every breath made their eyes flutter with efforts to sleep, and every soft, drawn out touch or suck made their minds more hazy. It hadn't taken much for the Wrath to figure out that despite what he had thought, attending to the buds of his Lotus made him not excitable, but calmer - the reverse to what he had heard and witnessed. Nonetheless, it worked out for them now, wrapped around each other with the Sun stuffed full of pearly offerings in his new life altar.

Xanxus shifted, and the result was a long breath ghosting past his ear. He had refused, even when they had drained themselves into a desertous drought, to remove himself from within the Sun, wanting to stay. Never once after the first did he leave, remaining encased on molten fire and velvet, pushing past the petals to bury himself amongst the stigmas and seeds of the Lotus, locked in the perfect place like some sort of knotting dog.

Daiki complained that he felt too full, that he could feel the pressure in his stomach - but he didn't once tell him to leave, splaying his legs further for both their comforts. It made Xanxus smile into his fruitless feeding, the way that purrs filled the air, that air that was already heavy with the aroma of nectar and coupling.

The Sun sighed sweetly before rolling them on their side and curled a leg of copper and caramel over the Sky's hip, keeping them firmly connected with an undeniable 'squelch' that made the Wrath shudder. Tanned arms came and looped around the grand frame of the Lotus, pressing hands pushing the wide back until brass breasts were angle forwards for consumption and praise.

"Got to sleep." Daiki grumbled, fingering at the tension of the Wrath's nape.

Xanxus glanced up, before returning to gaze at the gleaming collar. It was disgustingly hot in the room, Summer seeping in and making the atmosphere nearly smoky with heat, and the way they were locked together like some sort of animal mating ceremony was lending them no favours.

But Daiki cuddled in nonetheless, pressing solar lips to the Wrath's crown and nosing around at a tearing hairline.

"Go to sleep." He repeated lowly, hips rolling into the lock slightly, a tongue circling the dark flush of his bud. "Go to sleep, Xanxus."

Xanxus smiled as Daiki fell under the lulling veil of slumber, and left him in the waking world. He hummed to himself as he continued to hold the peak of flesh between his lips, feeling the Sun pulse around him, feeling the heartbeat, slow and steady, until he too started to drift.

Sky cuddled closer to the warmth of the Sun, peering at the Cloud that hid behind it in a careful, wondrous manner. They were magnanimous and dazzling to the Sky, the way they swirled and thrived in a body of grandeur, ate away the dark and the cold until only golden light consumed the space, flecks of lavender accenting the superb scene with independence and reinforcement.

Orange, orbal Sky watched as they debated in their hot atmosphere, jumping back and forth with blazing power, Flames of unattainability glancing wisps of attention to the contender before them. Lavender Cloud seemed hesitant, small and worried, hiding beneath the grand halo of Sun. Sky toed the line, bowing its form at the Flames it revered and so fought for, before blooming in delight and pride as they both let him in, mingling and Harmonising in a whirlwind of multicoloured sparks and sizzling pops. Kaleidoscopic fireworks dancing on the black scape of their deepest inner workings, sending dizzying tizzies of bliss and fulfilment sprawling and unfurling through their beings, warming them from the inside.

Daiki shifted and brought Xanxus closer, and though they didn't know it, both of them settling full into the afterglow of a complete, and perfect Harmonisation.

The baker's son woke to his mouth being pried open and a tongue forcing its way in to lavish the interior with demanded affection, the Wrath already snapping his hips into an already brimming space and stirring the man's stomach to nauseating limits.

"God damn it," Daiki groaned, separating their mouths and huffing as thin bridges of saliva held in silvery strings. "At least fucking unplug me first."

Xanxus growled and pushed himself further into the nectar saturated altar, pressing his tongue into a well of narcotics and devouring what was begrudgingly lost to him, stealing from the deity's shrine.

The Sun rolled his eyes before nailing the Wrath in the side, making a wheeze of pain splutter from wet lips as he crumbled, recuperating body an easy thing to shrug off for the grand man. He shivered before letting out a keening sound, a trill of something basic dancing from copper pipes as liquid pearl and nectar spilt from within the brass being.

The Sky inhaled sharply, and got to his knees, aching side lost the paramount moment of when he sank his hand into the lower stomach of the Sun, and a wave of himself surged from where he had forged a space.

Volcanic eyes floated up the Summer sweat body of the Mafia's paranormal paramour, before latching onto lazy aureate that gleamed with a low burning fire.

"There," He huffed, shuffling away from the sludgy space with disgust. "Now there's more room."

Xanxus snarled and made the very air shudder in fright as he burst forwards, grabbing the older by his biceps and yanked the copper being forward to bite at vermillion lotus lips. Teeth hooked into each other as hands came to rip hair from the Sky's skull, a low growl sounding from deep within him as he surged through a mocking barrier and found his place in the velveteen vice.

Daiki threw his head back and let out a stream of moans and laughter, greatly amused by the Wrath's unbridled lust. His bassed, resounding laughter slipped between each of Xanxus' joints and slithered into every crevice of his body, making him thrum in time with the blessed sound.

Xanxus would willingly be held by anyone if he could hear those sounds forever. The sound of his laughter of joy, his sighs of satisfaction, his moans of pleasure, his roars of rage. He'd let himself be held. And Held. And Held. And held under the water if those sounds joined the bubbles in his ears as he choked on salt and sand. If those sounds, these sensations, all of it wrapped around him as the water dragged him down and boiled his skin, rushed up his nose and down his throat.

He'd give so much to keep drinking down the honey of this moment, to keep feeling the sticky nectar clinging to their skin, night tacky seed and pollen clicking as they moved together, the bite in his neck pulsing in time with their arousal as he added his own wounds to the copper plains. Teeth snapped and sank into solar flesh, Summer salt water washing across tongues as the sweet metal of life spiced it all.

Diamonds created from lines of furious red marked their backs and dotted the sheets with specs of crimson, matching scores of anger and pride splitting their flesh as they snarled and hissed, crooned and moaned, cuddled and throttled.

Volcanic ruby stared with rapt attention as golden amber rolled with yet another pique, body of brass and copper writhing atop of his as he clung to thighs of crushing power, feeling them flex and ripple with shudders.

Two more times. Xanxus gave up offerings of rich, white liquid pearl to the deity he had been chosen by two more beautiful times-

Before the door opened with a soft knock, and Leviathan stepped in.

Xanxus snarled when Daiki stopped riding for both their enjoyments and looked over his brass shoulder, seemingly unnoticing of the way he all but glowed gold in the noon light, streaks of sunshine coming in to touch at his skin reverently, each ray casting upon him with all of the enthusiasm of a cultist.

"U-u-uh…" Leviathan choked, nearly dropping the cup in his hand as he gazed at their naked forms, the red flush, the hot state of the atmosphere.

He looked like he was holding his breath, and it made Xanxus realise just how much the air itself had been stained with their sex, their blood, their moans. Vermillion flashed with pride and he rode his hands high on Daiki's back, drawing the man of copper down for another round of choking on the other's tongue.

"B-Boss, Daiki- uh-"

Xanxus gave a shout of frustration as Daiki pulled back again and paid his attention to the stuttering Lightning, a smile coming to his face when gold landed on how red the man's face was, looking everywhere but the bed, suddenly finding the haphazardly stacked desk so very interesting.

"Yes, Levi?" Daiki hummed, absently touching at the hand on his waist.

"You're-" He coughed, fixing his pitch, before stepping forwards with a pill and a glass of water. "You need to take your pill now."

Xanxus made a noise, but the sudden, active squeezing made him choke on it and drop his head back.

"Thank you." Daiki smiled, taking the two and drinking the contraceptive easily. "Here."

The Sky scoffed, but took the half empty cup and took a few gulps as well, feeling his high body cool a bit in a pleasant way. He scowled and chucked it up at his Lightning, intent on grappling with the Sun, but the hulking man shifted his weight, as if he had more to say.

"What?" Xanxus snarled, sitting up finally and kissing along the brass collar of his Lotus.

Leviathan might have answered something, but the Sky was distracted by slotting a hand between the two, toned bodies and sliding his fingers over the wet biology of the other, searching for a place he knew would make the baker shudder and shriek for him. He found it, and his victory was punctuated by a gasp and the arms of tight, corded muscle that wrapped around him.

"Oh, that's nice." Daiki groaned, pressing his brow into the top of the Sky's head. "Good. Good."

Xanxus hummed at the panted praise, and kissed and tongued at the valley of flesh that was presented to him, sighing as the grand body trembled and clenched.


Flames flickered in agitation, but the slight curl of hips was all it took to calm them down again.

It went unnoticed. If on a better occasion, Xanxus might have wondered, preened at maybe, how Daiki responded to the merest flicker of his Sky now. But in their heat, anything could have been mistaken for the fire of sex.

"What do you want, fucking trash?" He snarled, still mouthing along the bust of copper, licking up Summer salts.

"Uh, Vongola Ninth is summoning you."

The Sky paused, and Daiki ceased his rocking, also tuning in at the mention of the Vongola king.

"Oh, fuck off." He grunted, latching back onto a bud of darkened pink, a bruise already forming from the night's attention.


"You should go." Daiki joined, sitting back to look down at him lazily. "You've been fucking me for hours, I'm sure you can bear ten minutes or so for Timoteo."

"Hours?!" Leviathan whisper shrieked.

The two men ignored him as the Sky glared up at the higher being.

"Go." Daiki reiterated, putting his hands on the Wrath's shoulders and pulling himself from the steeled embrace, the pillar of hot flesh falling from within him, slapping down on the Mafia prince's tanned thighs. "I'm going to have a bath. Ugh, I hurt like hell."

"I'll make you hurt more if you don't came back here right now." Xanxus warned, grabbing the baker's wrist.

"Firstly, that doesn't make sense, seeing as you plan on screwing me more if I do happen to sit back down. Secondly, get off your ass, clean up and go poke your head somewhere other than inside of me."

"I don't want to." The Sky huffed, nearly pouting.

Daiki raised an eyebrow before scoffing and grabbing the Wrath by his throat, bringing the man to his feet easily.

"Give us fifteen minutes, I'll get him out of here soon enough." He assured the blushing Lightning, before dragging the snapping Sky into the bathroom. "Oh, and could you ask someone to strip the bed? Thanks."

The Sun muttered to himself as he slammed the Sky up against the shower wall, ignoring how hands grappled at his wrist in a pretend fight. When nails started catching his skin, the being of cobalt and copper simply dug his thumb into the Harmoniser's throat.

"It's just a few minutes with your supposed father, you can handle it, so stop whining." He tsked, before subduing the hissing Sky with a quick kiss.

Xanxus blinked, before huffing as he grouched by himself, watching the older spin the knobs until water came cascading down in sheer sheets, instantly drenching the two. He grumbled and growled as soapy hands ran along his body, an absolute, disregarding invasion of privacy as the Sun bathed him like he himself were unable.

It was when Daiki reluctantly let him go to wash at his own body, did the Wrath surge forwards and grab him by water-slicked biceps. The baker hissed as he was shoved up against cold, slippery tiles and had a chest get pressed up against his front, a hand gripping his thigh to hike it over a tanned hip.

"God damn it, I said fifteen minutes!" Daiki snapped, twitching when a pillar of flesh found its home.

"Then I'll be fast." Xanxus grumbled, before he began thrusting his pelvis and burying his nose into a crystal dotted collar, arms begrudgingly wrapping around his shoulders as he was cussed out from above.

"You horny bastard!"

Xanxus scowled as he trudged through the halls of Vongola, the familiar place guiding him through corridors of history - both of the Mafia royalty, and himself. He was irritated, there was no doubt about that, and the suits sidestepped him respectfully as they passed, not wanting to get in the Varia's way when he was like this.

The Wrath loathed the idea of responding to the Ninth's summons on regular occasion. But when you add the factor of a very naked, very wet Daiki sitting in his private baths, then Xanxus would admit to rathering to envelop and mail the old bastard a picture of himself rooted deep inside his godly copper beast.

Daiki seemed to have had enough of him for a while though, the golden eyed man having always been one for cleanliness to a near freakish extent, and had all but kicked the Sky from the bathroom after he had forced himself back in and had made them both shudder and empty and fill under the shower spray.

Xanxus licked his lips absently, the two vermillion pieces curling at the sides as he glanced to a clock in the hall.

Seven-sixteen post meridiem.

Daiki had said ten hours. He had until nine-forty-eight tonight to make them hopelessly addicted to the narcotic of their sex. To make sure that Daiki would never leave his side, to make sure Daiki would forever be a home of velvet, copper, cobalt, caramel and gold.

His eyes darkened at the thought.

And Xanxus wouldn't be quick to complain if his Lotus would be as generous, or perhaps careless, enough to lift their hour limiter. The past night had been an utterly breathtaking affair that had left them both gasping and choking on tongues and anatomy, the taste of each other's nectar and seeds making them near nauseous, even as they drank down more to fill their lungs.

Vermillion flashed. That postal idea seemed more and more tempting as time went on.

But the door to Timoteo's office bumped against his hand at that point, so he grumbled as he pushed it open, not bothering to knock. He had been summoned, after all, why should he announce himself if he had been expected?

He paused, however, when he was met with a dark room.

A storm was wreaking havoc on the trees outside and had brought the Summer day to a humid and early close, casting over the hot sky with grey and grim clouds that flashed with danger and delight.

It was the lightning that cracked the grey scape in half, splitting the horizon into fragmented pieces of light and dark, which lit up the opened book, left carelessly upon Timoteo's desk.

Xanxus eyed it, taking in the egg-shell pages, tarnished with ink, glanced down the dark, empty hall, before striding over and reading it with all the giddiness of a thieving child. His glee started fading, after a moment, the inner thoughts of the Boss as boring as he apparently was in himself. The Sky huffed and turned off the page of the man's whining about the collateral damage of the assignments, before reading through a page carelessly-

And then went over it again. And again. And again.

'I had never seen that woman before. So I knew that boy, that 'Xanxus', he wasn't my son.'

The storm swallowed the roar that ripped from his throat, orbal fire burning his palms and singing the corners of the damned book. The Wrath sneered and threw the diary aside, uncaring of how pages went flying as it impacted messily against the wall.

Not his son. Not his son. Not his son.

Daiki sat up from his lazing with a blink as the doors burst open, an eyebrow coming to raise as Xanxus stalked into the room with all the grace of a starved predator. He rolled onto his back, splaying out atop the sheets, uncaring about his naked state, and hung his head nearly over the edge of the bed, watching as the Sky threw the items on the tallboy to the floor in a single sweep of his arm.

He remained quiet a the Wrath stormed the room, his hands dancing around the idea of destroying the desk, but instead turning his rage on the mirror and vanity.

Daiki glanced to the desk. That's where all Daiki's stuff was kept. All his school work, all his drafts.

He looked back to where Xanxus stood, looming over the laid out Sun like a dark shadow, obscuring the chandelier light, only the volcanic luminescence of his eyes visible in his silhouette.

Xanxus was visibly seething, eyes roaming over the expanse of the copper being, taking in the way Summer gleamed off the man's body with jealous possessiveness. This man, this man was laid amongst luxury, laid upon silken Egyptian sheets of Burmese ruby and wedding cake cream, surrounded by gleaming possessions of illegal and illicit origins, decades old and antique in every factor.

The Sky bared his teeth as legs were propped up and crossed at the knee in an absent manner, arms laid aside like a lazy crucifixion, golden eyes that glimmered with honey and languid focus gazing up at him expectantly, like they were waiting for some sort of explanation for his outburst - but at the same time, not entirely surprised if he decided to not offer one. A bust of brass and copper rose and fell with calm, steady breaths, naval jumping minutely with a heartbeat that he had felt wrapped around him.

Caramel fingers idly played with the patterned seam of the thin sheets, seemingly uncaring of the danger that lurked beneath tanned skin, and he remembered chewing bread from them, remembered scraping chocolate off of their rough pads with his teeth and he remembered the feel of them sliding down his back and clamping around his throat.

Xanxus deserved… Xanxus deserved all of this.

Xanxus deserved to writhe in the luxury of this realm, the realms he had carved out for himself with his own hands until his nails were popped and broken. He deserved to bask in the refracting light of chandeliers and the soft, burning warmth of a king bed. Everything to the sickening libraries of victorer's stories to the basements filled with century old wines. He had forged himself a space here, a position just beneath the throne and he damn well expected to be given what he had been promised.

And God save the man or woman who dared to question if he deserved to have all of this and the god who laid strew across his bed. The thing of copper and strength that gazed up at him patiently, waiting. Wait for him.

"I am not his son." He said suddenly.

Daiki blinked.

"Thought not."

They stared.

"You thought not too."

Xanxus twitched.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"


"You should."

"I don't want to."

Daiki blinked again.

"Okay then. Come to bed."

The Sky shrugged off his clothes and kicked away his shoes and socks, joining the Sun atop their sheets and laying himself against the warm side, his head falling on the softness of a female chest as he fingered at the swells of abdominal muscle to dissuade his mind.

"Did you meet with Timoteo?"


"He's going to call after you again."

"He can go to hell."

A hand came up and began combing through the soft hair at his nape, occasionally tugging at the feathers of blue jay, the Wrath grumbling as he pressed in closer, his leg hiked up to curl around a caramel thigh. Their feet brushed the pillows as they remained laid the wrong way around, the inversion feeling both odd and normal as the Sun traced the refracted patterns of kaleidoscopic rainbows splattered across the wedding cake ceiling by the tinkling glass of the chandelier.

"Kaa-san, I don't think leaving right now is a good idea." Daiki breathed into the receiver, listening as Xanxus threw a vase at Squalo in the other room.

"I'm sorry Daiki-kun, but we can't rearrange the flight so late." Kaede sighed from the other end.

"But, kaa-san, Xanxus-san is-"

"I know, sweetheart, I know. It sounds terrible." She cooed softly, the sounds of something being set down coming through. "But you can't put your plans on hold so suddenly."

The Sun opened his mouth to retaliate, but stopped and reigned himself, touching at the curling cord of the phone.

"...I understand." He said softly.

"Tell Xanxus-san that I'm sorry for his discovery, and that wish him well."

"Yes, kaa-san."

"Are you all packed?"

"Yeah, everything's packed already at home, I just have a few things left that can easily be tossed in- I'll probably keep all my school supplies in my room though, won't be needing them anymore."

"Good boy. I'll see you tonight. Your plane leaves early."

"Okay, I'll see you in a couple hours."

"See you soon, Daiki-kun."

Daiki squeezed his fists as the dial tone rung lowly, and the roars of rage from the Sky shook the building.

The Sun rose before his namesake did, the gentle flashes of his phone roused him. He sat there, in the darkness, for a little while, feeling the warm arms that were clinging to his waist and the hot air that was being puffed into this collar. He glanced to the clock, before carefully extracting himself from the embrace of the Wrath, gritting his teeth when the Sky moved and opened his eyes into narrow slits.

"Where are you going?" He grumbled, digging his nails into the other's copper wrist.

"Go back to sleep." Daiki breathed, gently prying him off. "Go back to sleep."

"When you tell me where you're going." Xanxus growled sleepily, anger simmering under hanging slumber.

Daiki gazed down at him for a few moments, before bending and pressed a slow kiss onto the Varia Boss, licking the inside of the other's mouth in a soothing manner.

"I just need to do something." He answered, carding fingers of copper through soot hair. "I'll be back."

The loneliness was what first registered when Xanxus awoke. The cold, the emptiness, the hollow in his arms and hallow in his bed.

He thought nothing of it at first, used to Daiki rising early to help out in making breakfast, fresh bread becoming a staple on the breakfast table for the Varia nowadays. But slowly, slowly, as if the very Flame of his Sky itself knew, he began to panic. And rage.

He kicked the thin sheets off and shot to his feet, a quick surveillance of his room all he needed to know exactly the situation. The desk was empty. The floor no longer scattered with hastily stripped clothes. There were shirts missing from the wardrobe and shoes gone from the lower drawers.

Daiki was gone. Daiki was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone-

"Find Yamaguchi Daiki!" The Sky roared, shaking the building awake in an instant.

People scrambled through the halls and men combed the gardens. Notes were taken on the haunts of the Sun, the tree, the living room, the kitchen, the library.

He was at none, nor did he leave a trace or hint.

Xanxus sat on their bed as the chaos rung out below, staring off up at the roof, doing as Daiki did and traced the refracted patterns of kaleidoscopic rainbows splattered across the wedding cake ceiling by the tinkling glass of the chandelier

He couldn't see anything worth looking at.

The open window let in a Summer breath, and rustled the papers on his desk. He paused, and dropped his gaze down at it when a flash of colour caught his eye.

The Wrath got to his feet and trudged over, feeling heavy, until he reached the desk.

A little red flower, sat on top of a folded piece of paper. Inconspicuous at best, and easily missed in the chaos, tucked in a corner behind a small pile of books.

Maybe Daiki didn't want him to see it, maybe he did.

Xanxus reached out and touched the velvety petals in one hand, before opening the folded paper, and instantly recognised the font-like, flowing cursive handwriting of the Sun. As he gazed at it, he slowly placed where he had seen it before.

The baker had hidden his English course drafts jealously during his exams, only ever going to Lussuria for comments and help, but there was one page that under no circumstance was anyone able to read. Not Lussuria, and definitely not Xanxus. It made sense now, now that he could read the note, bathed in young light, dry ink warm to his fingers and eyes as he took in each looped letter

'Confessions of a Sinner

You are my Gluttony,
I can never have enough of you.

You are my Greed,
I don't need you to survive but I want you like I do.

You are my Sloth,
When we lay together I never want to get up.

You are my Envy,
Why are you so perfect?

You are my Lust,
Your body, your mind, your heart.

You are my Wrath,
I hate what you do to me.

You are my Pride,
And joy.'

"You are my Pride and joy." He quoted slowly, before looking to the clock as it rung out.

Vermillion eyes blinked at the time, feeling the morning sun touch his cheek.

Ten o'clock post meridiem. The clock had been fixed.

"My Pride and joy."

Chapter Text

Act II: Burning Down The Underground

Word Count: 3,838

The men were engaged, their weapons at the ready. His Family thrummed with impending vermillion violence, humour and thrill lacing their atmosphere as they hovered in the orbital pull of their Harmoniser.

Xanxus stared into the amber liquid of the crystal glass, watching as burning quencher morphed into a flash of golden asphyxiation. His lips twitched, before he tilted his head back and swallowed the fiery gold like it was Etir and was sweet on his tongue.

The fireplace was lit and roaring despite how the country already sweltered with Summer. Long, lashing tongues of brilliance snapping in and out of existence and staining the air with flickering unsteadiness.

"Boss," Squalo uttered, lowering his hand from his earpiece. "We're ready for the order."

In a few, short rotations of the clock, the Sky had lost near everything. His heritage, his inheritance, his haunter. Gone from his blood was the golden gilded crown of the underworld, and gone from his sheets was the jewel-eyed Lotus.

He had lost it all, so the future was obvious.

Xanxus would claw and bite until he had it all back.

The wronged Wrath lowered his drink and grinned feral, throwing the glass, clear fractals shattering in tongues of flame within the hot hearth.

"Burn it all down."

Daiki grumbled as he stood from the car, his back cracking in several places from such a long time contained within vehicles of metal. A light nausea of air travel still lingered in his stomach as his designated driver, Goto, closed the door behind him and another man began unloading the boot.

"The Oyabun and the clan are waiting for you just inside, Watanabe-dono." Goto uttered smoothly, his voice a deep, silken timbre. "There will be someone to collect you at the door."

"I understand," The Sun hummed, straightening himself out with a sigh, mouth still sharp with peppermint gum. "Thank you, Goto-san."

"Of course."

The Watanabe Clan estate was just how he remembered it, imposing, huge and looming. Ready to devour you whole.

Daiki took a breath before striding forwards, golden eyes scanning the familiar setting of traditional scapes, dragonic motifs slipping in and out of focus as the doors groaned open, like the Watanabe realms sensed the arrival of its Heir. The air shifted as he stepped across the threshold, and despite how he was alone, he could feel the eyes of hundreds boring into every crevice of his being, tearing his apart meticulously as he walked, chin held high and shoulders set, brass clicking on his hip.

"Excuse me." A quiet voice spoke, making the cobalt haired boy turn.

It was a young girl, barely over ten, who had address him, head bowed low as she gathered her hands before her thighs. At Daiki's recognition, the girl raised her stance, revealing bruise in the corner of her little pink lips.

The Sun frowned, and the escort lowered her eyes.

"Please, follow me, my Lord. The Oyabun is just this way." She uttered quickly, before slipping past, trying to make herself as transparent and inconsequential as possible.

The young Yakuza followed her with his eyes for a moment, watching how her walk wavered and felt his stomach roll from within him, before stepping after her. She visibly tensed at the sound of his steps, perhaps not having remembered him being so close, but recovered and hid away the paranoia of her stride.

This place really was just how he remembered it.

His pallet tasted sour, but it always did here. At least, until he downed seven shots of sake or scotch.

Gold eyes dragged along the walls critically, vaguely impressed, but also not at all. The damage of his certification as heir has been completely erased, not a scratch on the walls, not a drop of blood on the floor. If it weren't for the scribe that had been scribbling away in a safe room, documenting the carnage with studious and enthralled enthusiasm, many may have been fooled into believing that no such catastrophe had raised the Watanabe estate like hellfire.

"Well, if it isn't my dearest Daiki-nii?"

Daiki turned, before laughing and opening his arms for his cousin to come gliding over from an alternate entrance, a handmaid scampering off with her sandals.

Honda smiled widely at her elder cousin, momentarily forgetting the braces of metal which lined her teeth as she was scooped up and pressed into a familiar chest. The Sun smiled and lifted her chin examining the braces with a fond laugh, making the girl flush and press her lips tight in embarrassment.

"How long have you had them?" He asked, letting her loop her arms through his as they continued to walk, the little chaperone girl before them stealing glances at the Watanabe Lady with badly concealed idolisation.

"About a year now. They're coming off next year, June."

"Around the same time you're turning fourteen then?" The elder hummed, smiling as she nodded, a hair ornament tinkling gleefully.

The two underground royals spoke for moments more, quietly catching up the short years that had been lost, before they stilled and fell silent, the door to the main room blocking their path.

Honda smiled, before slipping her arm free and lowering her eyes, porcelain face melting into one of pleasant apathy, with hooded eyes and slight upward tilts of her soft pink lips. Her delicate hands came to be clasped before her, and a long exhale brought about her demeanour.

Daiki sighed as he watched her coat herself in layers of fur-lined femininity, before he reached out and tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, making the young girl startle, and then smile. The Sun inclined his head with affection, before returning straight and broadening his shoulders, lips pressed into a firm line as his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Ready, my Lord?" The little girl uttered, glancing between the Yakuza blood.

"Yes, thank you."

Slabs of paper and wood were cast to the side in a smooth motion, and the heavy scent of incense and alcohol. Fans of brightly coloured aesthetics graced perfumed breezes around painted faces. Women cooed as they exposed their shoulders elegantly, squealing and giggling as men pressed their noses to the hollows of their throats.

Honda bowed her head to her cousin and glided to a small flock of girls, each bearing a similarity. Relations of blood upon blood smiled at each other from the distance, before Daiki turned his eyes forwards, and strode towards them.

"Daiki-kun!" The old Oyabun, Watanabe Haruko, greeted, smiling thinly at the boy. "Welcome home."

"It's good to be back, Oyabun-sama." The Sun laughed, silicone joy lacing his tone. "How have you been?"

"Good, good." He hummed, obviously having lost interest already.

Daiki grunted politely, also having tuned out. The baker's son found himself a position at the forefront of his cousins, tucking his knees beneath himself. A hand touched his shoulder, and he turned with a soft smile, seeing the young Sora grinning up at him, tell-tale signs of crayons smearing her hands and blooming clouds of rainbotic colours.

"Hi!" She whispered, waving.

"Hello again, Sora-chan." He answered, hushed, before pausing. "Your front tooth finally grew back in. Finally."

"Oh, hush you."

The two curled their lips in mutual glee, before falling silent.

The Oyabun spoke out to the room and men gave reports, Daiki urged to listen in order to catch up the years he had lost. He thinned his lips as details became impressed into his memory, new names and old allies flying through the words.

Golden amber flashed across the room. Dying grey caught his, and his grandfather held their gaze. Daiki felt his hair stand on end, but expressed no such unease. Himura was looking at him with such skin crawling intensity, such a gag-inducing gaze, but the Sun refused to lower his eyes, staring back with obvious miff.

The room's attention turned at once, the door sliding open once again, and revealed a woman who glared at the Yakuza like they were something lesser. She was dressed in strictly traditional garb, formal kimono of neutral colours hugging her thin body as she slipped her hands into the opposing sleeve. Her eyes were slate and sharp, lips pulled into a firm line which showed nothing but disinterest in her expression. She sent her gaze about the room, sever annoyance showing upon every face as they forced their heads to incline in spiteful respect.

There was a shift behind her kimono, and Daiki let his eyes fall from her sharp face to see it, pausing when narrowed eyes peered out from around the woman. A rather annoyed looking boy, no older than eight or nine, glared back at the Watanabe Heir.

"Hibari-sama! How delightful of you to join us." Haruka cooed, like the sycophant he was.

"Charming." The woman, Hibari, grunted, before gliding into the room. She paused, and fixed her grey eyes upon the new face, the Sun lifting his gold to her. "Who are you?"

"Watanabe-Yamaguchi Daiki," He answered evenly, dipping his head in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." She hummed, before following his stilted attention to the child who kept close to her. "This is my son, Kyoya. Say hello."

The young boy glanced to his mother out of the corner of his sharp eye, before turning back to the kneeling Yakuza, a frown on his face.

"Hello, Herbivore."

Daiki blinked, before coughing a laugh of surprise. People around the room shot him looks.

"Hello, Kyoya-san."

The Cloud narrowed his eyes at the informal greeting and shifted his arms, a flash of metal peering out of his sleeves. Daiki thought that his tonfa looked too large a claw for such small paws, but he would grow into them.

"Children, you may go." Haruka announced, and the generation bowed before filing out like a uniform flock of birds.

The two Hibari's watched the Heir slip out with his cousins, and the mother placed a hand on her son's shoulder to cease his impulse to follow, knowing how easily the young predator could be distracted. He sent her a look of indignation, to which she only huffed and turned her chin away, making Kyoya pout and sit beside her.

The young Skylark would seek out his new prey later. For now, he'd suffer politics in a perfume heavy room while his mother held her cub by the scruff of his neck.

The Watanabe youths' composure was stiff and swift, expressions void of anything beyond expectation as they walked in a gentle tandem. They turned the corner, and Daiki spun to receive the embraces of his little cousins. He grinned and gathered the girls up in his arms, laughing gently as they cooed at his return.

"Look at you all, you've gotten so big! It's been just three years!" He chuckled, brushing aside the unkempt length of the small Kaguya's fringe, the seven-year-old giggling as her coal eyes were shown from beneath the curtain of pitch.

"Up!" Aoi yawned, reaching for her elder.

"And who are you?" Daiki asked, bending to scoop the infant into the air, little legs dangling as the child blinked slowly.

"This is Aoi-chan," Honda smiled. "She's two now."

The Sun smiled, a paternal part of him always too sweet for children, before he looked down and laughed, Aoi fast asleep against his shoulder.

"She's got chronic fatigue," Naomi murmured, stepping up to grasp the elder's shirt end in her little fist. "She's always sleeping."

"Oh, I hope she's eating well then."

"She does now, but not before," Bunko sighed, tugging a clip out of her hair with a pout. "Rin-oba never fed her. Honda-onee-sama fed her with a bottle. That's bad, right?"

Daiki thinned his lips and cradled the little girl closer, skin near transparent in its fragile white hue.

"It's...not the best. But, I suppose our aunty has a reason."

"She's pregnant again." Honda uttered, glancing off.

"Again?" He hissed, allowing the girls to urge him on towards the dorms. "Didn't she just miscarry from stress? Four times?"

"Our mothers are determined to have a boy." The eldest girl gritted, helping the youngers down the step.

Handmaids rushed out from the border or sakura trees and began checking them over, one tsking at Bunko for removing her hair clip. The little six years old huffed and yanked the rest out, before latching onto Daiki's leg, grumbling as he gently carded his fingers through her short soot hair.

Feminine perfumes swirl around the Sun as he breathed in deep, the threshold of trees revealing a place of familiar fantasticals. Reflections of living light danced upon still ponds, water lilies blooming under the light of a nocturnal sun that waxed a full spread. Gas lamps flushed the old building a golden hue as moon bathed silhouettes approached, bare feet padding gently against blued grass in languid steps, loosening without the burning eyes of the Main House.

Daiki hummed a tune as the creature in his arms stirred, as if the metamorph of the world had thrummed through her sleeping form.

A smile flitted over the Sun's lips as warm honey scanned the main room, the place barely changed from three years ago, still exuding the atmosphere of lazy riches and cosy superiority. It was hazy with incense, pillows piling high in corners and scattered along the floor for lazing through the day in sweet scenting spaces.

"Daiki-nii?" Honda asked, touching his elbow as Naomi let out a yawn, leaning against his side heavily.


"Has there been something bothering you?" She breathed, handmaids urging the girls to their beds with gentle croons. "You've since you came back."

Daiki blinked down at her, trying to ignore how he felt phantom hands grasp his hips and a hot, non-existent breath wash over his nape. He tilted his head in a show of confusion, before uttering an easy denial.

"You know how I am with air travel."

Honda stared, before smiling and lowering her eyes, understanding that this would go no further.

"Did you throw up again?"

"Of course I did, who do you think I am?"

A week in this place, and no change. Nothing had changed. Not the warm familiarity of his cousins who might as well have been his sisters, nor the hollow in his side as he laid in a bed that had become too cold.

The Sun grunted as his arms hung empty, outstretched across the bedding in a movement that had sprung upon the nocturnal phase. His shoulder was stiff from how many nights he had spent in this position, arms open in hopes of a body, warmed by the fire of its own rage, would fill them and fill the rivets in his mind and chest with bloody red resin.

A part of him, a stupid part of him, wondered where the Wrath was, gazing around with childish wide eyes, trying to find the man. It pawed at the back of Daiki's mind, whimpering pathetically for comfort and vermillion, only for the Heir to narrow his eyes and push it away like a neglectful parent.

Daiki grunted as he got up from the futon, the new sun peeking through the curtains. He had things to do, and no time to be bothering with memories. They'd fade in time, and take with it the bone-weary longing that weighed down his very skeleton.

His grandfather, Himura, had summoned him, and despite how it near physically pained the Sun to even breath the same atmosphere as the hysteric man, he knew that ignoring it would only bring unnecessary grief.

So, with a sigh, Daiki pushed himself from his room and left behind the phantom of the devotee of Lotuses in a cooling and empty bed.

"You've grown so much since we last met, my boy." Himura chortled, already half-drunk despite the early hour.

Daiki tilted his lips politely as he sat himself on a cushion across from the man, accepting a saucer of the strong tasting alcohol with a murmured thanks, letting the murky liquid ripple when balanced in his fingers.

"You'll be receiving an attendant soon. My brother is the one choosing, so be careful of him, he may not be trustworthy."

"Of course, ojii-san."

The aged Yakuza laughed lowly and poured himself another cup of inebriant, downing it without trouble. He sighed as he lowered the ceramic, before latching his eyes onto the youth, the cracks and lines in his skin deepening.

"Tell me, have you been thinking about our last discussion?"

Golden eyes flashed up, holding the man's expression in their gaze of molten honey.

The old grandfather smiled with desert lips, dry and cracked like a forsaken lake. His breath was sandy in its parch, and he swallowed another slip of the misty drink, but no amount of inebriant would quench the man's hollowed riverbed of a thirst.

"I have," The Heir, cast in dark brass, chose his words critically. "Deliberated over the topic."

"And? What verdict have you come to?"

Daiki lowered his cup and uttered his answer evenly, "I think the sooner we execute the Oyabun the better."

Himura grinned, lip stretching wide - before he coughed and took a smothering sip of alcohol, regaining his decorum.

"That's wonderful news, Daiki-kun." He hummed, like he hadn't just slipped over the edge by just a fraction.

"I have thought about how to go about the usurpation, and have an idea. Though, it may require some outside help. But I'm sure I can manage to find that, just leave everything to me, ojii-san."

The old man shuddered as he smiled, worn, wrinkled face pulling at the sagged edges as he gazed at the bronze Sun with a shuttering glee. He got to his feet, knees popping like boots on a forest floor, before scuttling over to Daiki, who watched from under his dark lashes, orbs of scotch and sun searing in their nature.

The desert man, Himura, lowered to sit at the side of the young underground royal. He turned his gaze on the Heir, dying grey dizzy with sadistic glamour, before he placed a bony, arthritic hand across the Sun's back. He grinned and continued to hold the boy in the strong-lose 'hug' that felt more like being in the embrace of a dying tree.

Daiki yawned as he dumped his towel on the foot on his futon, dropping into it with a groan. His grandfather had insisted on herding him around all day like some kind of half-blind sheepdog, able to see, but with no depth perception. It drove him up the wall, but he managed to keep his feet on the ground and eventually freed himself from the arthritic clutches of that old man.

He muttered an Italian cuss and rolled over, arm shoved beneath his head, before pausing. That letter wasn't on his desk before.

Instantly, he was on high alert, ears prickling and golden eyes carving out the room for any abnormalities. The Sun got to his feet and made his way towards the alien presence. His eyes narrowed, honey laced gold darkening in surprise.

"Varia," Daiki grunted, touching the familiar red wax seal that depicted the private assassination squad's elaborate seal. "My, faster than I expected."

He pinched it by its corner and flipped to read the back of the envelope, a sigh falling from his lips as he read the curly script and address.

To: Watanabe-Yamaguchi Daiki <3

"Lussuria. Of course." He drawled, turning it back and cracking the seal with brass fingers, sliding out a parchment. "He was the only one I told about the Watanabe."

The elusive baker tossed the empty envelope back onto his desk and unfolded the paper. He placed his hand on the desk and lent on it lazily, humming as the bright pink pen that seemed to be the Varia Sun's only writing utensils showed for him.

The coup failed. Boss got got by the Ninth. Squalo know's what happened to him, but he's gone quiet. You should have been here Daiki you should have stayed. I don't blame you, none of us do. But he might have just made it if you had stuck by us.
We could really use you now, too, Daiki. We could really use someone to lean on. We're a mess without our Sky. Elements out of whack. Elements out of Harmony.
Write back to us soon, yeah?

Your big sis,

Daiki's lips had parted, and his eyes had stilled. He just wasn't sure when it had happened.

He breathed deep, scenting incense that mingled with the electricity of something rising within him. An emotion stained the air with its permeation, it writhed and wriggled between particles, tangible, a heavy miasma which partnered with the wisps of perfumed smoke.

Daiki refused to name or acknowledge the feeling, refused to register the airy arms that wrapped around his shoulders as he sat down at the desk. The being of fantasy leant up against his back and murmured things from underwater to him, muffled by time and reality as the Sun reached for a new parchment and a pen.

I'm sorry to hear that your coup didn't work out. You all must be under intense watch now by the Vongola and that CEDEF operation. Must be stressful.
Squalo may feel responsible for the Ninth's win. Be sure to watch over him, yes? And the others, they're likely to be shaken at the loss of their Sky.
A part of me wishes I could be of more help, you know that, Sister. But you also know that I cannot leave where I am. I am more trapped here, in the Watanabe, than when I was the Varia's prisoner.

Lips drawn from magma trailed along the Heir's exposed nape, and he forced himself to pay no mind to the formation.

I think you are wrong, however, in one aspect. Whether I had stayed or I had left, Xanxus would not have set aside his goals for anything. He is too driven for that. He would not have been swayed by any of my words, the fool.
I hope to keep in contact with you, Sister, and the Varia. The Watanabe is stifling, my dear cousins aside, and your 'vitality' would be refreshing.
Be well and safe, I hope to hear from you again soon.

Your young brother,

The Sun stood and slipped the folded paper into a blank envelope, before leaving it on his desk, knowing someone would take it to its destination, addressed or not.

The hands that had laid upon him slipped from his hips as he walked and came to kneel in the centre of his futon.

The light of the gas lamp glowed soft and honeyed as Daiki's hand rose from his knee and touched his chest, wondering at the hollow, before he shook, and bowed himself, head lowered against the ground as that emotion saturated the air and hushed the room into darkness.

Chapter Text

Word Count: 2,090

Young Adachi Koga shuffled in his kneel, the fourteen-year-old shamelessly terrified of the mass of pitch-marred life before him, royals of underground castles staring him down from their luxuriously plush perches. His pale hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he was now startling aware of the constant tugging that seemed to try and drag him away from the humidifying danger of the room.

Especially the man of molten golden eyes who gazed down at him with criticising omnipitancy.

"You are?" The Lord rumbled, nearly shaking the room itself with his voice alone.

"Adachi Koga, my Lord." The swordsman uttered, keeping his eyes low, fixed at the pooling of the Ladies kimonos on the floor. "At your service, my Lord."

There was a choking silence, the quiet palpable and clotting his throat, strangling him of breath. The man continued to recline on perfumed pillows, the young form of the first Watanabe lady youth curled into his side lazily as he draped a copper arm around her shoulder, keeping the child Honda close. Cousins in blood hovered close as well, draped about a richly coloured, cushioned mound of luxury, bowls of fruit and sweet things placed about for the darkened royals to nibble and redden their lips on.

"Adachi Koga," The Lord repeated slowly, tasting the name and making the swordsman clamp down on a shudder - either fearful or another. "You choose to come here armed."

Adachi felt his stomach sink like a stone in a river, his sword suddenly pulsing on the floor beside him, as if it had its own heart, thundering in fear of being called out.

"Yes, my Lord- Though I mean no ill-will! Only to- to...I did not think it would threaten you so-"

"'Threaten'?" The golden orbed man repeated, startling the pale boy into silence. "You think the mere presence of your sword threatens me, Adachi Koga?"

The boy bit his tongue, heart lurching as a hollow of anxiety gouged itself in his stomach. Then, the man's lips twitched in the corner, and Lady Honda closed her coal eyes, like she was trying to hide something within the obscurity of her own head.

"Nevermind that, I'm sure you didn't intend for anything." He hummed, very obviously amused by the heavy atmosphere that choked the kneeling youth. "Did you now?"

"Of course not, my Lord. You are exactly right."

"I thought so," The copper being chuckled, before turning his gaze on his closed eyed cousin, letting silken strands slip through his fingers like black water. "Tell me your intentions, Aachi Koga."

"I am here under the orders of our Oyabun to serve and assist you in any way you should desire, my Lord," Adachi answered swiftly, keeping his breath steady despite how it fought to shallow out.

He felt eyes burning into him, carving trails of judgement into his skin. There was a shift, fabric rustling in the incense hazy room, before the swordsman gathered the gall to look up, eyes landing on the stumbling visage of a child, the young Lady Aoi, who was tottering unsteadily over to the Lord's lap, crawling into it. He held his breath as the infant settled down in the crevice, cuddling up to the man with an unreadable expression.

Adachi wasn't sure how the Heir was raised or in what orientation his morals pointed, and he found himself fearing for the naive daughter who had made a nest of the Yakuza's lap.

The Lord's hand raised, and his own twitched towards his blade, then copper fingers combed through dark hair, lips turning upwards in a soft smile of paternal blossoming.

"Aoi-chan, you haven't had dinner yet. Try to stay awake, darling." He rumbled warmly, like a hearth, though he continued to lull the girl with light touches.

"I think you're the one who is going to put her to sleep, Daiki-nii." Lady Honda huffed, opening her eyes again. "Have you finished teasing your new handmaiden, then?"

The swordsman jolted and his eyes grew wide, but any utterance he may have made was silenced by a humoured laugh that tumbled from the man's vocals.

"Teasing? I do no such thing, cousin."

"I'm sure," She scoffed, cupping his cheek for a moment with a fond expression, which he reflected without persuasion or hesitation.

Adachi watched the interaction with his brain spinning within his cranium, trying to understand and comprehend the situation. He had been...played with, by the Heir. 'Teased'.

When he looked up again, he found himself the subject of searing golden eyes, feeling his skin burn under the touch of melted down jewellery.

'Teasing'. More like 'warning'.

"Hibari-sama," Daiki hummed in greeting, pausing his drink to turn to the lady, seeing her imposingly dainty form taking up the door to his Dorm. "How can I help you today?"

The woman turned slate eyes upon him critically, making the Sun smile in amusement, metallic orbs boring into him unrelentingly, precious gold glimmering with humour. Their gazes held for moments, neither going to be the first to back down, both of them knowing what the other was doing. She huffed and turned on her heel, abandoning the scene, satisfied with what she had found.

Hibari Kyoya dropped in through the window after making sure the coast was clear, giving a small grunt upon the impact with the ground.

Daiki huffed a laugh at the tiny cub before turning back to the paper on his desk, scrawling looping cursive onto the page, Italian slipping from his fountain pen with just as much ease as his mother tongue. He glanced up as a small body shuffled up beside him, making the Sun raise an eyebrow, but nothing more as the tiny carnivore glared over his shoulder to peer down at his writings in a disgruntled manner.

"You're dodging your mother, Kyoya-san."

The small Cloud grunted dismissively before pattering about the room, peeking into places of the Sun's privacy, uncaring of the invasion. Daiki was already used to such violation, and so didn't bother halting the curiously bored child, continuing to compose his letter to the flamboyant man across the ocean.

He paused, however, as his arm was nudged and pushed out of the way, allowing for a carnivorous Cloud to slip between the cracks and settle in the valley of the brass man's lap. The Sun gazed down at him for a moment, before huffing when he noticed the tiny predator cub balancing a large textbook across his own lap, Italian peeking out of old highlighter ink, European notes and quips dancing about the margins of the pages and documenting a term of Daiki's academic life and his interplays with his fellow deskmates.

The young Cloud looked between the pages and his written script upon the desk, black pen scratching the paper as he leant back into the warmth of the solar man.

"Tell me, what language is that?" Hibari demanded, glaring over the large cover.

Daiki glanced down at him for a moment, before doting the end of a sentence and gathering another sheet for the next segment of his letter.

"Italian, Kyoya-san."

"Why do you know Italian?"

"I was raised in Italy," He hummed, beginning another paragraph, addressing Belphegor specifically, and his habit of avoiding homework.

"Since when? At what age? Were you born there too?"

"You ask many questions, little Lord," Daiki commented lightly, taking the book from the child and closing it, placing the tome on his desk.

"Answer the question." The Cloud grunted, trying to reach for it again, only to have it nudged just out of his reach.

"Very well," Daiki sighed with a bit of a laugh, amused by the demands of the Guardian-to-be. "Let's see...Since eleven years ago. So, I was seven, and I was born in Japan, Namimori."

Kyoya's head turned as he looked up at the Sun with slate and slanted eyes.

"Namimori is my territory."

"Is it now?" The Heir uttered, finishing the letter and folding the pages gently. "Ah, yes, I do think I remember the Hibari's being quite the force upon the town. Your mother still has it under her thumb then?"

"Of course," He grunted, like it was simply common sense.

Daiki hummed to himself for a moment, flipping the stuffed envelope in his fingers, feeling the rough paper that held a blank address but would always find its recipient.

"Perhaps," He breathed after a moment, getting to his feet and forcing the child to move from his lap. "I should pay that old bakery a visit."

Kyoya eyed how the man placed the envelope down on the window sill, surface unblemished by instruction, and left it there, a light breeze glancing over the sealed letter.

Daiki slid his hands into his pants pockets as he stood before the eyesore of a structure, out of place in the nice neighbourhood. Its windows were boarded up and shattered, graffiti smeared about its brick walls like badly applied makeup. A layer of dust caked the floors when he peered inside, needles and stains littered about.

The sign that was once a rich white on green constraint, was now sun bleached and faded, plastic and paint cracked and peeling, the rust of nails discolouring it further. The remnants of spiders gusted about in the corners, even vermin and pests recognising that this wretched place wasn't a piece of the world where life could flourish without being warped and malformed.

What a place his home had become.

"Adachi-san," He started lowly, jacket hanging off his shoulders freely.

"My Lord?" The swordsman acknowledged, watching as the man walked past him.

The Sun approached the rumbling car, tinted windows wound down to allow Goto to receive instructions. He paused at the opened door, hand on the gentle arch of the top, expression a mutilated kind of serene.

"Burn it down."

Old Bakery In Shopping District Burns Down

Article written by Nakashima Nhi

Last night the Namimori Fire Brigade was called to put out the fire which had consumed the abandoned Yamaguchi Bakery which had long stood in the community. But by the time they had arrived, the inferno had consumed the building and had reduced it to ash; they were, however, able to save the surrounding buildings from receiving any damage.
"It's such a shame it's burnt down, some of us were hoping someone could have put that place to good use!" says a local.
However, not everyone will miss the vacant lot, with others happy it has fallen to flames.
"Good riddance," says another local. "That thing's been falling apart for ages, the kids keep going in there to shoot up! It's been enabling them!"
Neither Police nor Fire Brigade has made a comment on whether they believe the fire was deliberately lit, however, evidence of its hasty ignition and thorough destruction has the people of Namimori on their toes.

"Oh, gosh!" Nana gasped, putting down the paper.

"What's wrong, Mama?" Tsuna asked looking up from his plate, legs kicking idly as they hang above the ground.

"The old bakery burnt down," She sighed, placing a hand on her cheek as she looked out the window of their dining room, still baffled by the information. "My friend used to be the baker there. Oh, I hope she's doing well; she's in Italy now."

"Italy? Isn't that really far away?"

"Yes, honey, other side of the planet!"

"Wow!" The little boy gaped, food sticking to his lips in his awe, making his mother laugh.

Chapter Text

Word Count:  4,344

"Antarctica's a desert, you know?" Daiki hummed, a bruise on his cheek from their latest roughhouse, throwing a rounded pebble in his palm.

Xanxus looked up from the mindless drawing he had been conducting in the dirt, his discarded branch held tightly in his small hand, three grazes marring the side of his face from where he had been mashed into the brickwork of the walls.

"What? No, it's not! It's made of water!" He huffed, pointing the crooked stick at the little Sun.

The older child shrugged and continued to toss his pebble high into the air, following it with his eyes as it descended at an alarming pace, slipping past his face and patting down into his palm.

"But you can't drink any of it, because it's mostly frozen. If you were stranded in the middle of the frozen desert, you wouldn't have anything to drink."

The Wrathful child stared at his friend as golden eyes melted with some kind of remembrance, something that was far beyond what he could reach. His hands twitched by his side as he bit down on the urge to rip Daiki from whatever celestial plane he had graced upon and drag him back to stand with Xanxus in their dusty alleyway.

"So, if either by hypothermia or dehydration," Amber encrusted gold slid from the corner to focus back on the vermillion viciousness. "You'd die."

Xanxus blinked, and it was like they had snapped out of the heavy air, Daiki's lips pulling into a passive smile.

"Of course, there are other ways to die. Such as starvation, suicide and being killed by animals - or by your crew-mates."

"Tch, my crew-mates wouldn't be so stupid as to try and fuck with me. I'd be the only one to survive!"

Daiki gazed at him for a moment. Xanxus wondered if he had said something wrong, but swallowed the slow rise of embarrassment before it could well into realisation. He jolted to attention as Daiki pushed off of the crate he was sitting on and chucked aside his pebble, prompting him to do the same.

"Let's go home, before the sun gets too hot." He uttered and began walking without bothering to check if Xanxus followed.

The Sky tossed his stick away and chased after him with a sneer of confusion and aggravation, quickly catching up and moving to walk backwards so he could be face to face with Daiki.

"Hey, I mean it! I'd be the only one to survive in the whole damn team! I'd be better than everyone else!"

Daiki continued to walk, almost looking through the little Sky, before they stopped, less than a metre from the exit of their alley.

"Don't go to Antarctica, Xanxus."

Xanxus paused the harsh snap he was about to deliver, silenced by the flat frown that took the boy's copper complexion and the first utterance of his name in the fortnight. He grit his teeth and crossed his arms in defiance, before looking off in a huff, lower lip jutting out.

"Fine, I won't go to fucking Antarctica." He grumbled, before snorting loudly. "It'd probably be boring as hell anyway, just a bunch of ice and idiots."

The little Wrath watched the Sun out of the corner of faux-closed eyes. Daiki's expression hadn't changed, eyes far like he was before, but this time, he was looking directly at him.

Xanxus was thrilled.

The moment his foot touched the marble floors of the Varia Headquarters, Daiki felt something old surge through him. Something rich and antique to his blood. He dragged his eyes over the entry, and let out a long breath of the Italian air, recognising the taste that had been lost from his tongue for a long year.

The place had hardly changed, and he had seen many a familiar face as he had made his way up the cobblestone paths in the gardens. It made the Sun brim with a sensation he'd rather not inspect too closely, and he couldn't help the tilt of his lips as the excitable shout spilt from the top of the stairwell.

"Oh, my beautiful baby brother!" Lussuria squealed, descending in a flourished, fluffy pink bathrobe, whose long train slithered down after him. "Come give Sister Luss a kiss!"

Daiki gave a laugh as the tropical scent invaded his space, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and trapping him to the Varia Sun, who dotted glossy affection across his cheekbones.

"It's been too long my darling! How have you been? You look so good!"

"I'm fine, Sis." The Yakuza signed, allowing the elder to loop their arms together and guide him further into the heart of the building. "But, main situation: how is everyone else?"

The Sun thinned his lips for a moment, before giving a slow breath escaped him. He smiled a bit as Daiki touched his hand in a comforting manner, then led him through a familiar hall, the vase that had once been smashed replaced impeccably, like the Varia had several replicas of the antique in storage.

"Everyone has been a bit...withdrawn since Boss was imprisoned." Lussuria began, choosing his words carefully. "Though, it has gotten better over time, they've all still got a grudge dwelling inside them. If you think tensions with the Vongola was bad before, oft, you should see it now. "

"Not a pretty sight I suppose then, huh?"

"Not a pretty sight at all, my darling."

Daiki gave a small noise of understanding, having expected as much, before taking his arm back as the Varia pushed a set of double doors open with dramatic flourish, hips knocking to the side as he left his arms elevated in an extravagant pose.

"Guess who's back!"

If he were being truthful, the rogue Sun would have admitted that he expected a less than warm reception. To them, he had abandoned the Varia both as soon as Xanxus had ripped of any possible inheritance, and the downfall of the Varia. He looked like an opportunist who saw the bank run dry, and he wasn't going to delude himself into believing that they would try to look at it another way.


"Daiki! 'Bout time you got off that damn island!"

If he were being truthful, Daiki would also admit that he should have stopped trying to predict this cacophony of a Family a long time ago.

The Yakuza grunted as he was shoved into the arms of the massive Lightning, the moustached man sobbing at the happy return of their Boss' obsession and a possible anchor in the unsteady foundations of the Varia Headquarters.

"Welcome back, Daiki!" He sniffled, wiping away tears.

Daiki tried not to let the mixture of humour and disturbance show through his expression, and instead morphed it into one of soft affection, rubbing the giant's back in a comforting manner.

"It's good to be back, Leviathan. How have you been holding up?"

"Like a castle of cards in a cyclone," Squalo grunted, getting up off the couch and stomping over grumpily. "He's such a fucking crybaby."

"He's sensitive, friend." Daiki hushed, parting from the Lightning to bend and collect the young Belphegor to his chest, feeling wires brush his arms in a kind of recognition.

"You look surprised, Ottone~!" The Stormy prince grinned, staring up at the Sun through his impeccably sliced fringe.

The familiar name plucked at the chords of his lifeblood organ, and he found his arms to be conducted to tighten around the boy, a split second smile flitting across warm lips.

"I wasn't expecting such a gentle welcome."

Mammon floated over with a huff, coming down to settle upon the Storm's head and frown at the copper man in a seemingly indignant manner.

"What? You expected us to believe you some gold digger who split the second you found out Boss wasn't an heir?" They scoffed, Fantasma shifting on their hood in a lazy, beady-eyed greeting. "We know you tried to stay here, all the telephone lines are tapped and recorded so we have evidence of your conversation with your mother. Don't think us so daft, idiot."

Daiki gazed at them for a moment, still on his knees for the Storm, before he gathered himself and sighed, rocking back onto his heels.

"Of course, why on Earth did I think otherwise."

"Because you're a dumbass, that's why." Squalo snapped, before tugging him to his feet and crushing the Sun in a brief but all-consuming hug. "Welcome back, pretty bastard."

With another smile the Varia dispersed back through the firelit living room, sprawling themselves over European couches and velvet cushions, alcohol and tea on three-legged tables made of metal and mahogany. A heavy scent lingered in the air as the copper being followed slowly, golden eyes trailing around the warm place, before halting on two isolated islands of wealth.

"You kept it." He uttered, getting a giggle from Lussuria.

"Of course we did, it's your couch after all."

Daiki bit his lip, back turned to the Mafia clan as he gazed at the long couch. Velvet vermillion, engraved gold and near pitch woodwork sat in a luxury seating, exactly as it had more than a year ago, not a thread out of place. He remembered the satisfaction that had bloomed in the Sky's expression when he had first laid himself on the expanse, fingers skimming the fabric in quiet memory.

The Yakuza lowered himself onto the couch as casually as he could, one leg stretched across the expanse while the other bent comfortably. His nape pressed against the arm, pillows adding a soft buffer as he closed his eyes with a silent exhale.

The throne of the Wrathful Sky was flush with the couch before the fire, flashes of orange and yellow splashing the expensive materials. It's emptiness haunted the quiet Sun, and he felt his skin ripple in goosebumps as ghosts ran their fingers through his hair, smoke and alcohol the lingering perfumes which clung to their illusion.

Daiki hadn't felt that touch in so long, it startled him to receive it again. He had been plagued by the phantoms of furious days and tender nights for the early months of Japan, but they had soon been chased away by the pure fatigue of the place. He had lost his resilience, his hand coming up to try and touch the lost warmth of the fingers in his cobalt.

"So, turns out the baker's boy is actually a Yakuza heir!" Squalo sneered playfully, jabbing his sword-hand in the man's direction. "The fuck didn't you tell us for?"

"It didn't seem important." Daiki answered easily, lowering his hand back to his side.

"Incorrect, you are in a position of influence and power within the Japanese community. The possibilities appear profitable, ignoring them would be unadvised." Mammon hummed, nibbling through a biscuit in a manner reminiscent of an enthusiastic hamster.

"Trading intelligence," Leviathan spoke, offering the rogue Sun a plate of snacks. "And it's something to back you up in places like these."

"Thank you," Daiki uttered, taking one to snap between his teeth. "I suppose you're right, but I don't intend on ending up in a situation where I'd have to pull rank here."

"You'd be surprised, Vongola and CEDEF guys are always on our backs now. Even the Varia cronies are getting watched." Squalo scowled, before deflating in annoyance.

Belphegor hummed before hopping to his feet and dancing across the room in a kind of waltz, before plopping down atop the Yakuza, sprawling his young body on the elder's. He giggled weirdly as kicked his legs as a hand settled on his back, showing that he was welcome.

"So," Mammon began, flipping through a file. "Have you greeted the Boss yet?"

Daiki paused his gentle patting of the Storm's back, eyes drifting to the Misty being who turned a page of graphical information nonchalantly. The rest of the Varia Family shifted in their seats, feeling both acceptance and enmity rise at the mention of their loss.

The Yakuza man drummed his fingers along the child's spine, lips pulled into a downward dislike.

"No...No I haven't seen him yet. I didn't realise I could."

Squalo looked into his cup, before turning to Leviathan, who had been silent through the exchange. The Lightning Guardian shifted, eyes flitting from the rogue Sun to the floor, rooms of sex-stench resurfacing in his mind; a being of arrogance and a being of azure laying in the same sheets.

"Do you want to see the Boss?" He asked, slowly, unsurely.

Daiki glanced to Lussuria, before nodding, a smile touching his lips as he let his eyes fall, something far gone hiding behind their golden plating.


Lussuria led Daiki through the afternoon-bloody halls, setting sun casting the Flames in soft-tinged vermillion as they walked in a bubbling silence. Muscles were tense beneath their flesh and strides were as strong as they hesitant, low tier Varia bowing out of their ways as they were cast curious glances. They were walking deeper, sinking straight to the core of the Headquarters, and a chill took the air as the last lights of the sky were swallowed up, leaving only gas lamps along the walls that flickered curiously at the new intruders.

"Just through here," the Varia Sun uttered, glancing to his fellow out of the corner of his lense. "Are you sure about this? It's not a pretty thing."

The rogue thinned his lips before wordlessly pushing the heavy door open, leaving the elder to watch after him as he stepped into the bleak place.

Daiki let out a breath, just barely audible but visible in it's frosted form as he stared at the slab of displaced glacier, sprouting from the floor like some sort of frigid flower. Glass petals refracted the light in kaleidoscopic manners that painted the stone walls with rainbotic dazzlings, casting across the copper man's hand as he raised it, as if to hold the weight of light in his palm.

"I told you," Lussuria murmured, stepping up behind his young brother. "It's not very pretty."

The runaway aubade didn't understand what the man was saying. This was beautiful.

"I hate it." He sighed wistfully, gazing at the top of the frozen bud's barbed frond of frost.

Daiki slowly approached the manifestation, steps ringing out in the hollow room of coloured light, feeling copper-tan go up in goosebumps as phantoms of cold air brushed his skin and made him shiver once. He raised his hand, arm struggling with its own organic weight, before he laid his palm on the stinging ice, looking beyond it and taking in the ice-bound boy who reached back, fingers posed in a fierce clawing.

For a moment, he felt a weight on his chest. A tightening of his lungs which wrangled him despite how he knew there was no coiling snake in his cage of ribs. The serpent within him hissed until his heart rattled like it's tail, venom stinging his eyes.

He leant forward slowly, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed a warm kiss to the ice, lips flushing at the chill. The spell did not break; Daiki was no prince charming, after all.

Daiki lifted his lips from the cold encasing, hands pressed to the unmelting glacier with a kind of quiet solemnity as he gazed at the Wrathful Sky, held like an enraged rose in resin. He sighed at himself, causing a light fog to take the ice's surface.

"Daiki," Lussuria began softly, coming up to stand beside him. "He was heartbroken when you left."

"Heartbroken?" The rogue Sun repeated, fingers tracing the outline of the Sky's jaw, the cold so foreign when placed with the visage of the man. "He was not heartbroken. Only offended."

"I think you underestimate what you two had, little brother."

The Yakuza man only glanced to his sister out of the corner of his eye, before resting his brow against the Vongola's ice, dedicating himself to watching the frozen Sky. He hummed something lowly as he touched at the ice, caressing a tanned cheek through it as vermillion eyes expressed only rage...and maybe some sadness.

"I do not underestimate it, my sister. But, perhaps I may just not understand it."

Lussuria observed the rogue through his lens, trying to decipher the warped, copper maze of a man that his Sky had dragged in so long ago. He watched as Daiki's eyes glazed over in thought, a hand still tracing the lines of the Wrath's face, fingertips going cold as a droplet slipped off the bridge of his nose.

That ice did not melt.

The Varia Sun thinned his lips, before glancing to the watch on Daiki's wrist, seeing that it was around the time that dinner was being served for their Family. He sighed and looked between what used to be, before gently urging his sweet brother to begin moving.

"Daiki, we should go now."

"I think I'll stay here." Daiki murmured as response.

Lussuria paused, before deflating in defeat, knowing that this was not debatable. It never was when it came to each other.

"Okay," He sighed, combing a hand through his fellow Flame's hair. "I'll get someone to bring you your dinner and something to sit on."

The rogue gave a hum of understanding before the sound of retreating footsteps were silenced by the heavy fall of the door, leaving the Sun alone with the cold of an unforgiving Sky. He bit his lip was his breath fogged the ice, eyes never straying too far.

"I told you I'd leave," he murmured to the cadaverous, "you have no reason to be so upset."

Timoteo paused as he entered after his three sons, their shouts ringing in the room in which their youngest was encased. They came here, not often enough, but sometimes to just see their lost family when they couldn't pretend he didn't exist anymore.

The Vongola Nono made his way to his sons in confusion, wondering what they were yelling at in such hoarse voices of offence and anger, before stalling as a man of copper and cobalt came into view. The familiar being sat in a plush armchair that must have been taken from one of the drawing rooms, a small side table holding a half-eaten plate of food and a cup of wine to accompany. He was reclined in a manner that showed no care for his attackers, head turned away to focus only upon the frozen Sky.

"Daiki," Timoteo greeted warmly, ceasing his sons' anger. "It's good to see you again."

Slowly, golden eyes dragged themselves over to connect with his own coffee orbs, the young Mafias taking a step away as the name rung distant bells, but not in tune. Lips remained a line of apathy towards them as Daiki gazed on, before he took a breath and responded.

"I suppose it would be polite if I were to say the same," he uttered offhandedly, making Federico bristle.

The Boss only let a sad smile touch his face and received the cold response with grace, understanding the iced mannerisms of the being.

"I see the Varia told you of what happened, you're being here could be for no other reason."

Daiki didn't deny or confirm his suspicion, completely unmoving, unreadable in his halcyon. It would have made him uncomfortable if he wasn't who he was.

"How have you been? You disappeared quite suddenly."

"I've been well."

Frederico and Enrico glanced to each other, Massimo fidgeting behind them with a mixture of frustration and restlessness. The heirs weren't pleased by the sudden appearance of the strange youth, disgusted by how he ate by the corpse of their brother and furious by how he reclined before their father.

"Father," Enrico began, calling attention. "Who is this man?"

Timoteo blinked, before letting out a soft laugh and made a sweeping gesture towards to two groups.

"Oh, how rude of me, I completely forgot that you haven't met." He waved his hand at his boys with a warm expression, though there was still an ache hidden beneath that made Daiki's jaw twitch minutely. "These are my sons, Federico, Enrico and Massimo."

The men all bowed their heads in greeting, muttering pleasantries with bitter undertones.

"Boys, this is Daiki; Xanxus' dear friend."

Daiki let his face twitch at the term, watching as the faces of the others mottled in expressions of confusion and disbelief. The Mafia youths looked from their father, to Daiki then to Xanxus in a circuit, as if it would answer their astonishment.

"That can't be true! Xanxus never-"

"Oh don't be daft, Massimo," Timoteo laughed, "don't you remember the first years of Xanxus being brought home? How he kept demanding a boy named Daiki?"

The line of men all dawned upon it at once, heads snapping to the quietly sitting being who had already turned his attention back to the frozen visage of the Varia man. Their minds were cast back, back to the time where Xanxus was small and their ears were bleeding with his tantrums, a smashed vase here and a burnt painting there.

"Fuck you, I want to see him! Now!" Xanxus snapped, pushing over a chair to keep the men in suits at bay.

"Son, please-"

"Give him to me! Bring him here!"

Timoteo sighed as his sons stayed outside the room, not daring to enter the room of the raging Sky, his new arrival having brought an unrest in the Vongola Mansion. They frowned, wondering why the men didn't just go grab the guy Xanxus was after already, just get him to shut up!

"I don't want this," a toy smashed against the wall. "I want him! Give me Daiki!"

"You're that Daiki," Enrico breathed, "The one Xanxus was always after."

Gold plated honey turned on him and he swallowed thickly, wondering just what kind of genetics he had to create such a disposition. Lips quirked into a kind of sardonic smile that made them grit their teeth, not sure if they liked this character.

"Was he?" Daiki hummed, taking a moment to swallow down his glass of wine, lips stained red in the corners.

Frederico decided then that he did not care for the Sun before them, a smokey hostility coiling in his mind as he tried to imagine just why the man was here, all these years later.

"You choose now to come see him? After nearly eight years?" He scoffed, getting a glance from his father.

"One year, actually." Daiki corrected, putting away his cup and turning his eyes back to the encased Wrath. "Only one year."

The eldest Vongola brother tried to go back in for a demand of clarification, but the door startled him into silence, a loud snickering filling the room as the Varia Storm danced in with a kind of crazed care. Massimo cringed away from the boy, not quite having the stomach for the child's strange tendencies and imagination, leading the Vongola heirs to only watch as Belphegor grabbed at copper hands with a grin.

"Ottone~! The prince commands you play a game with him! Now, now, come!"

Daiki gazed down at the child and must have seen something, for he got to his feet and began walking, letting the young Flame tug him along like a trophy. The door thunked shut behind them, allowing the Vongola Sky to let out a breath.

"Oh Xanxus," the old man sighed, looking to the icebound Wrath. "You always did hold a place in your heart for the strange ones."

The doctor shook his head solemnly as he stepped out of the room, a hush falling through the compound as the people understood the decree of death. They lowered their heads and made noises of dismay.

The night was brimming with whispers, rumours, tales and suspicion. Everyone knew, no one had proof and no one was going to be the man who would risk their hand and point the finger.

"Impossible," Adachi Koga denied easily, walking alongside a man who had omitted to supply his name. "How could Watanabe-dono have done it? He has been in Italy for the last two weeks."

The man muttered in agreement as they rounded the corner, both choosing to ignore the young woman who sat by a harp. They parted ways and went about their business, preparations for the funeral being drawn up for the next week.

The swordsman paused at the landing between the realm of sakura and the house of men, a glance cast to the burning lamps that lit the building in a honeyed glow of vermilion. He reached and pulled out the newspaper that was tucked under his arm with a hum, opening it and finding an interesting article.

Old Bakery In Shopping District Burns Down

Article written by: Nakashima Nhi

Last night the Namimori Fire Brigade was called to put out the fire which had consumed the abandoned Yamaguchi Bakery which had long stood in the community. But by the time they had arrived, the inferno had consumed the building and had reduced it to ash; they were, however, able to save the surrounding buildings from receiving any damage.

"It's such a shame it's burnt down, some of us were hoping someone could have put that place to good use!" says a local.

However, not everyone will miss the vacant lot, with others happy it has fallen to flames.

"Good riddance," says another local. "That thing's been falling apart for ages, the kids keep going in there to shoot up! It's been enabling them!"

Neither Police nor Fire Brigade have made a comment on whether they believe the fire was deliberately lit, however, evidence of its hasty ignition and thorough destruction has the people of Namimori on their toes.

"Enabling them?" He hummed, tilting his head for a moment. "Yes, there were quite a lot of needles in there, wasn't there?"

The young boy bit his lip to keep it from quivering into a smile. He didn't know that being under Watanabe-Yamaguchi Daiki would be so fun.

Chapter Text

Word Count: 3,226

"What the fuck were you and that old hag talking about?" Xanxus scowled, his cheek still bearing a bandage and purple from where Daiki had thrown him into crates.

The young Sun hummed and hopped down from the small cliff of dirt to land in the creek water, little fish scattering in their freight as tiny giants invaded.

"Were you spying again?" he asked plainly, rolling his pants up higher and wading further in to start looking for their goal. "I thought I told you not to do that; it's rude."

"Like I care," the Wrath scoffed, following the other, uncaring for his already fraying pants and plunged his hands into the mud and silt bottom of the creek. "Just fucking tell me."

Daiki rolled his eyes and chucked away a stick.

"Just some family business," was the elusive answer.

"Elaborate, please," Xanxus mocked, lilting his voice in a manner that was designed to annoy the boy across from him.

This caused the Sun to sigh loudly and skip a pebble along the surface of the water, ripples breaking the liquid mirror which reflected the sky and inversions of young Flames.

"Marriage," Daiki finally admitted.

Xanxus stopped his plundering and looked at the cobalt boy from under his lashes, unable to see his face which his fringe hanging down. His stomach felt hot.

"Why the hell would you be talking about that?!"

"You do realise I'll need to marry at some point yeah?" Daiki continued, unaffected by the sudden rise in temper as he continued to feel about the bed. "At some point in the future, I'm going to need to take someone as a partner, and I need to be aware of that."

The Sky grabbed handfuls of silt beneath the water, teeth bared at the Sun's unsteady reflection. Eyes of magma and fire narrowed at the boy, his anger compiling until the liquid around his hands felt warm.

Xanxus slept in Daiki's bed again that night, holding on with all the possessiveness that a 9-year-old could muster.

They didn't find what they were looking for. Xanxus didn't care.

"So, my darling little brother," Lussuria started, walking through the gardens with his little brother, the rogue Sun gazing around with a kind of glaze in his gold. "How long are you staying in Italy?"

Daiki turned his eyes on the Varia man and let out a hum, head tilting in an inquisitive manner as he smiled a bit and said, "What? Want me gone already?"

"I think we both know you're here for more than a catch-up, Daiki," came the low toned response. It wasn't rude, nor was it accusing. It was just a statement to make the cobalt youth aware of what should not be forgotten; that the Varia did not like to be used.

"Ah," the young Sun sighed, accepting that there would be no dodging the subject with his dear sister. "I may have stirred up a bit of trouble in the Watanabe back home and am waiting for it all to cool down. And, well," he glanced to the Varia and smiled in a cheeky manner that exclusively shown to his confidant Sun. "If I'm here, it can't possibly be my fault!"

Lussuria laughed gently at the words, shaking his head at his nature. Of course, Daiki would cause such a kerfuffle, even while not there himself.

They giggled with one another as they came to a familiar liquid amber tree, golden eyes stolen by the scene that he so affiliated with Summer shade and sweet teas. He grit his teeth as he felt something come up against his cheek, an imagined warmth leaning heavily on his side in a manner that was too akin to violent affection for him to remain unmoved by, causing the man to walk forward in hopes of dislodging its place in his core.

"What's this?" The rogue asked, bending at his knees and taking up a blooming, red rose in his hand, eyeing it with distaste. It was in his spot.

"The Vongola Nono planted it there," Lussuria answered, coming to stand three paces behind. "Even though he was the one who confined the Boss, he's still a bleeding heart."

"Really?" Daiki grunted, not at all impressed by Timoteo's acts of fatherly grievance.

He cupped the rose with a frown, disliking how dew drops rolled off he vermillion petals in ways that were too similar to tears. Why were there tears here? No one had shed tears as of yet and this rose was trying to?

Daiki knew, upon a brief reflection, that he was being unreasonable if not vaguely hysteria as his frown became more severe. The rose bloomed brighter for a moment, petals unfurling to their full potential with vibrancy as if pleased by his presence, before darkening into a muddy hue as his dissatisfaction with it began to poison it's being and left it shrivelled and balding.

"Hm," Lussuria hummed, leaning his cheek on his palm. "That must have been the first time I've seen you use your Flames."

"Yeah," he responded gently, dropping a handful of crumbling petals. "I don't like to use them much; draws too much attention."

The Varia Sun nodded in acceptance and watched on as the man took a turn about the garden, surveying what had changed and what had stayed the same in the year of his absence.

"This garden is barren," he said after a moment.

Lussuria stared out at the plentiful trees and blooming flowers with him, watching how birds flitted excitedly and dew sparkled with glee.

A barren garden, indeed.

Dear brother Daiki,

I hope you got back safely, everyone's been a bit bummed out since you left, it was nicer when you were here to liven up the place.

Vongola Nono is a bit disconcerted and confused by his rose plant having suddenly died, and the man has been checking on Boss more often because of it. I think you may have scared him with a false omen, darling brother!

In other news, the Vongola heir, Enrico Di Vongola, has been killed. He was shot in a gunfight; amazing how he was considered the 'most qualified' to be anything, let alone the Vongola Decimo. These men, really, they have no idea how to estimate the value of a person!

Along that same vein, actually, the Vongola seem to have lost track of Nono's favourite, Fredrico. They're trying to keep it hush-hush, but you know me! I love a good spot of tea! No one's said anything about any success in finding him, so the Varia are putting bets that he's already dead somewhere in a ditch. I mean, let's not speak ill of the dead, but Fredrico wasn't always the sharpest tool in the box when it came to who he should and shouldn't trust. Anyway, my best is €400,000 that he'll be found, in water, all soggy and rotten. What's your bet? The minimum wager if €100,000!

We're all looking forward to you visiting us again, and hope you keep safe over in Japan!

Your magnificent sister,

Lussuria ♡ (and the rest of the Varia, but they don't matter as much)

Daiki smiled slightly as he read the letter, his formal yukata still cladding his body as the celebrations of his ascendance rumbled in the background.

The bed of the Oyabun was empty despite how late it was, and it would remain so until Daiki had had the chance to throw it out and get himself a new one, having no intention of sleeping in the bed a corpse had been cooling in weeks ago. He was cruel, not sick.

"They're getting killed off, hey?" he murmured to himself, touching his new desk with his fingertips. "I guess it's starting then."

The rustling of Adachi Koga ceased then, the boy pausing his debugging of the room to turn to his Oyabun with confusion.

"My Lord, what's starting?" he asked, coming over to the older man, his pale ponytail swaying from the open window.

Daiki looked to his Right-Hand man for a moment, before snorting and shaking his head, tossing the Italian paper back onto his desk in a dismissive manner.

"Just a bit of…Family drama, nothing for us to worry about," he answered, "Is the room safe?"

"Yes, there are no traps or bugs. Though, there seems to be an adjacent room that was never put to use by the previous Oyabun."

The Sun paused at that and began absently tapping his fingers along the desk as he thought deeply. He quickly weened himself from the thoughts, and shook his head before walking to the centre of the room, looking around at the pots and other such decorations of the past owner's.

"Koga-kun, call my cousins here. Immediately," Daiki commanded sharply, arms coming to cross and lips set in a firm line.

Adachi fought back a wince and quickly went to gather the girls, apologising silently as he felt them waver, but follow. They walked in perfect lines despite how young they were, the youngest of the girls trying to hide how they looked around with wonder, never having seen this part of the Main House before.

"Come and sit," Daiki instructed briskly, scratching away at a responding letter.

The Ladies of the Watanabe were stiff as they delicately kneeled in the centre of the room, smelling the remnants of perfumes and the glistening of their grandfather's so beloved vases. There were vases everywhere, traditional designs and decorative branches looping about in rather gaudy fashions that spoke of the 15th Watanabe Oyabun's love for all things expensive. If it weren't for the generations of wealth amassed, they would have gone into debt for his thirst.

"My Lord," Honda spoke gently, after moments of tense silence, "May I ask why you have summoned us here?"

Aoi was struggling to stay awake at the end of the row, rocking back and forth as her cousins and sisters tried to contain the desire to fidget. The chronically fatigued child yawned and Daiki stood, the sudden change making Honda twitch to defend the child, an action she had grown used to jumping to.

The Yamaguchi son didn't so much as pay her 'defiance' a glance, however, and merely walked to a pedestal where a traditional vase was balanced, it's clouding patterns of red and white blooming richly on the smooth surface. He picked it up by the rim and walked to the line of his cousins, watching them impassively, letting them gauge him with lowered eyes. He pushed the vase at Honda, her eyes widening when it stopped a breath from her face.

"Well, cousin?"

Honda refused to swallow despite how dry her mouth had become. She stared on, keeping firm and holding her guise.

"Take it," Daiki grunted, dropping the heavy vase into her hands, the base of it clunking against the ground. "And now, throw it."

The girls blinked, slow to catch up.

Daiki didn't waver and tugged the eldest of the girls to her feet, her long black hair shifting it's obsidian shades under the lamp light as she struggled to hold the pot. He straightened her in a way that appeared harsh, but she felt no pain or discomfort under his hands as she made her face the far wall.

"You have anger, cousin," he uttered easily, standing close behind her and talking into her ear, but loud enough for the others to hear. "You have anger towards the man who deemed you useless, who isolated you so insistently."

Honda was stiff under his hands, staring with wide eyes at the far wall, a painting of the 15th Oyabun taking up a gluttonous amount of wall with an embellished frame.

"If you hold onto it, it will fester," Daiki urged, feeling her shake. "So, throw it. Smash it with all your strength. Watch what he cherished over your blood shatter."

The man took three steps back to give her room and she slowly began to grind into movement, raising the vase up as high as she could, barely pubescent arms straining against the china weight before she swung it in an arch and watched it crumble as it hit the ground.

The sound was horrendously loud and the girls were racked with paranoia. Would someone come? Someone had to have heard that, right? They'd be punished for this!

Out of the corner of his eye, Daiki smiled as he watched the 3-year-old Aoi potter sleepily across the floor before pushing a podium over and letting another vase crash to the ground, water spilling out. And in the next instant, the Watanabe Ladies were on their feet and wreaking havoc in the Oyabu's chamber.

Daiki felt satisfaction permeate his being as he watched Sora and Kaguya work together to tarnish the painting of the 15th, throwing small pottery at the man like shotput and letting the canvas tear and drip. Laughter began bubbling up, along with hoots and roars of deep-seated anger. He walked through it all without care, the shatterings of porcelain missing his feet as he crossed the room and came to an embellished zaisu chair before sitting himself down and leaning his cheek on his fist.

He smiled at Adachi Koga, who watched from across the room in a blend of horror and fascination, feeling incredibly satisfied with the hell taking place around them, ceramic shards and water splattering around him.

Adachi stared as the Lady Honda lobbed a large floor vase and finally brought down the 15th Watanabe's Oyabun from his place on the wall, the new Oyabun smiling sharply as the frame fell to the ground behind him.

Dear sister Lussuria,

I'm sorry that I haven't been able to correspond as often as we used to, I've somewhat recently taken the position of Oyabun and as such, my workload has at least doubled. I've kept you all in mind, however, a have managed to wrestle some time to quickly address you again, with affection.

I've been receiving your packages without a problem and hope the same can be said on your end. Does Bel like the bear? My dear Sora assisted me in choosing it, and she wishes to hear the result as well.

Do tell Mammon that I am quite pleased with the results of the bet, and am ready to receive my spoils of €2,700,000 at their earliest convenience. (Hopefully, I don't get a rather nasty payback for this).

I hope to visit you all soon; preferably before the year is over, and will keep you updated on the likelihood of that happening.

Hoping you all a happy New Year,

Your brother Daiki.

"Watanabe-dono?" Adachi Koga interrupted gently, making the man turn from the letter. "Hayashi-san has arrived if you would like to brief him on what irezumi details you'd like?"

"Yeah, let's do that now," Daiki agreed, putting down the letter in a secured drawer before following his assistant.

They were bowed to as they walked past, the new Oyabun greeting his clansmen with a smile that was too practised to be seen through. They reached the room that had been repurposed for this event and Daiki was surprised to see a small child stumble in front of him, big brown eyes looking up at him

"Ah, my Lord, I apologise, my grandson is-"

"It's fine, Hayashi-san," the cobalt Lord hushed, eyeing the 5-year-old who scuttled away, eager to get out of sight. "So, shall we begin?"

The tattooist was an old man who still possessed some of his original blacks in his hair and a youthful mischief in his eyes. It made Daiki smile truthfully and step into the room without tension.

"Of course," Hayashi nodded, taking up his stick and giving it a final check over. "What was your design again? It was an odd one, wasn't it?"

"Perhaps," Daiki hummed, shrugging off his yukata and baring his back. "Have you ever heard of a liger?"

Dear brother Daiki,

Happy birthday! I know this is probably late, but happy birthday my cutest lil' sweet! You're all grown up now, 19 years old! Oh, I remember it like yesterday, when we broke into your house and kidnapped you 2 years ago. Makes me tear up still, you were so cute, all knocked out and quiet.

Mammon is pissed with you for winning, I hope you know this! But you should be getting the transfer by the time this arrives. Belphegor loves the bear, though he refuses to admit it; just offer to take it from him and he'll clamber all over it like some kind of monkey, oh, the cutest little thing he is.

You've got three more cousins by now, haven't you? Nami, Ame and Aika, were their names, yes? They must be adorable little jellybeans, send us pictures when you have the chance!

Squalo wants to talk to you too, so I've attached his letter to the back.

Happy belated birthday, darling!

Lussuria ♡

- - -

You motherfucker!

You better fucking get your lil' Jap-ass back to this place ASAP otherwise I will shove my boot so far up your ass that shitty Boss will be tasting leather for years! You think it's okay for you to be playing hooky for a whole year!? Huh!?

That Levi has been a fucking menace to deal with cause you ain't here to creep on and dote over you bastard! Fucking Belphegor's been whining non-stop and he drags that fucking bear with him wherever he goes! Why did you have to make it so big!? He keeps knocking shit over you fuck weed! Mammon's making me help them with the fucking accounting! I dropped out of maths!


Happy fucking birthday, you shit.

The World's Greatest Swordsman,


Daiki snorted and touched where it looked like the pen had been stabbed through the page in a fit, a fond chuckle leaking from him as he relaxing back into his bed, having quite excitedly settled down for the night to read at his leisure.

The letters were becoming sparse as of late, and he could only imagine that the Varia were being pressured by both Vongola and CEDEF at the moment. He hoped they were making it alright on their own.

His bed grew a shade warmer as he laid down and tried to sleep, arms wrapped around gathered sheets in a way to satiate habit, like a smoker chewing on a pen. He murmured a bit in annoyance as weightless arms curled around his waist and something urged his head to tilt up, making room for ghosts and settling down with the lonely company, lips open slightly in a recipient-less invitation.

One would think that after two years that fire would ebb and cobwebs would take the hearth, but Wrath was a persistent state of mind, and it wormed its way into the crevices, stroking the wide-eyed little part of the Sun who was still looking around for Sky.

Daiki sighed and stared down at the roll of sheets in his arms blankly, a tiredness taking his face along with a well-concealed longing as he tucked it under his chin and pressed a kiss onto what might have been a forehead, or maybe a cheek or a shoulder.

"I'm leaving, Xanxus," he said after a moment, letting the sound ring out in the quiet room.

There was a beat of silence.

"You make it sound like you have a choice."

Dear sister Lussuria,

It would appear I am getting married.

Chapter Text

Word Count: 3016

Suzuki Mao was a charming girl. Beautiful in appearance, skilled in both music and arts, delicate in motion and a voice lined with lilacs and perfume. Her hair was a deep mahogany and her skin was the shade of polished porcelain, detailed with petal pink lips and blushing cheeks. Her eyes were a kind of near-blue, so pitch that the sight seemed to force colour into the spectrum.

Suzuki Mao was a charming girl.

Watanabe-Yamaguchi Daiki sat across from her at a tea table, watching her pour them portions silently. He wondered just where his grandfather, Himura, got off arranging him partners.

"Are you opposed to this decision?" he asked, their isolation allowing for freedom of the tongue. He had been too obedient today, it had grated on his nerves.

Suzuki placed down the pot without so much as a clatter and drew her hands back to her lap, eyes lowered delicately.

"I don't think my opinion will amount to much, my Lord Watanabe."

Then she's as unhappy as he is with this. Daiki sighed and took up a cup, tasting it carefully, trying to discern if there were any foreign elements within the brew. Nothing.

"Well, I'm asking for it," he grunted, getting another wave of her light perfume when she moved. "If you're going to be my wife, we're going to have to rely on one another. Not being transparent can lead to trouble."

She smiled a bit, a pained little tilt of the lips that could have fooled someone less than them. Her thumb stroked the rim of her cup as she gazed into it, a strand of her tar hair falling from its bun and hanging down her cheek.

"...I just wish I could have married for love, rather than politics," Suzuki looked to him then, a kind of resignation in her eyes. "But that's just not how the world works sometimes, I suppose."

The room they were in had been refurbished after the rage of the Watanabe women had razed it to the ground, gone were vases and tapestries, and in their place were collections of mosaics and linens depicting the Watanabe's twin dragons accompanying lions and tigers. The wall which was once dominated by the 15th Oyabun's likeness was still empty, however. Daiki was unsure what he was going to place upon the centre.

"Marrying for love," he breathed, "Is difficult for people like us."

"Yes," she agreed gently.

"But do you want to?" Daiki asked, putting down his cup and focusing on the girl across from him. "If I could offer that route, would you take it?"

Suzuki blinked, trying to understand.

"How, my Lord?"

"I," he began, leaning forward slightly, "Will not marry you until we love one another."

The girl was floored, eyes wide and unsure.

"But we are engaged," she uttered carefully.

"Engaged, yes, but not married," Daiki explained, "Our bond is sealed, but the date has not yet been defined. So long as we work together for it, I believe we can delay the wedding until it suits us. Until we can love, or at least, enjoy one another's company."

Suzuki bit her lip and thought about it; a delay would cause confusion and suspicion in the Families and would no doubt irk their elders, but if they played their cards right...It could turn out for the better. The anger of their elders, or the joy of their own?

"I believe I could...learn to love you, my Lord."

Daiki smiled, perhaps the first time since their meeting, and she felt herself relax a little at the sight. He was proving to be an agreeable man, it seemed.

"We are in agreement then," the young Oyabun chuckled, taking up his cup and offering an impromptu toast. "To our hearts."

"To our hearts," Suzuki joined before they drank and smiled at each other from over the brims of their drinks.

Dear sister Lussuria,

My wedding had been delayed, so there's no reason for the Varia to rush. I understand that the Vongola has put a leisure travel-ban on you recently and that it will be hard for you to move about freely for an indefinite amount of time. Do tell Levi that I am sorry and that I hope he feels better soon; the letter he sent me was rather scathing.

Mao is settling down nicely and has taken the reality of my sex quite well, she is loyal. She seems to understand that the deal we have going on is rather ideal and unlikely to be found elsewhere. We are getting along well and I have taken aboard your suggestions of requesting her to bring possessions of attachment to the Watanabe and it seemed to have worked just as you said it would.

Nami, Ame and Aika would like you to write them another story soon - especially Ame, who seems to have become rather a fanatic towards Squalo's tales of sword fighting.

We've recently welcomed three more girls into our family as well, triplets by the names of Kana, Mana and Yama. However, with their birth, their mother Seiko has passed. A shame, for she was truly the only one of my aunts I could genuinely tolerate.

I'm sorry that I didn't make it last year, but I've already made plans and have begun blocking out time to travel to visit you all. I can't do it too immediately, however, as it may distress Mao to be alone so suddenly after the transition. I would bring her with me to speed it up, but I don't think she would be welcome and as a result, will defeat the purpose.

I hope you are all doing well, and wishing Mammon a happy birthday,

Your brother Daiki.

They...They didn't take this into account.

"They want us to fuck? Already?" Daiki blurted, making Mao flinch and redden.

"Yes...It seems that since we've been pushing the wedding back, they want us to join in an alternative way," she breathed, playing with the string of her light kimono, Summer crickets chirping outside. "There are...There are people nearby who will be trying to validate whether or not we have taken the step."

"Shit," he sighed, walking over to join her by their bed and lower his voice. "Guess that means I'm not getting undressed then."

"Yes, there would be a bit of trouble if you did, Daiki-sama."

They sat beside one another for a little while, the tentative friendship they had forged straining under the weight of intimate relations. They had managed to kiss already, if only to satiate their predecessors, and were sleeping in the same bed, but seductive touch had not been thought on much.

"I think I can do it," Mao admitted, rubbing her arm. "With you, I can."

Daiki rubbed his nape and looked to her, seeing the golden glow of lamplight halo her dark hair and lather her skin in honey radiance. He sighed and reached out carefully, hand skimming her cheek and causing her to jump.

"You say that, but you're still scared," he said, laying on his back with his hands cushioning his head. "If you're not ready, we just won't."

"What about you?" she asked, trying to shove the focus off of her.

Daiki stared at the ceiling and tried to imagine them coiled around one another, fingers and tongues used to full effect to arch backs and roll back eyes. He saw pale skin flushed with arousal and hair black as the pit tangled in his fingers, short and soft in his grasp as he tugged and reigned back vermillion eyes which glared with volcanic rage at being interrupted.

The rogue Sun quickly blinked his eyes to break the spell and looked to the girl who was waiting beside him, seemingly patient but holding her breath.

"Yeah," he breathed out, "I could lay with you," his hand reached up and grasped her cheek gently, rough skin against her smooth flesh as he ran his thumb along the apple of her cheek. "I like you, Mao-sama. I think I could learn to love you too, in time."

She gained a hue in her flesh as she listened to him, tilting her head into the touch of his hand and enjoying being caressed.

Daiki flinched then, recoiling from her and getting to his feet with a huff of aggravation.

"My Lord?" Mao called, wondering why he stalked away so quickly.

"I'm going out for a while. I'll be back before night," he grunted and fled with his jacket fisted in his hands.

Daiki didn't know where he was going, his feet taking him aimlessly through the streets of Namimori, Goto left in the car some ways away in a nameless street. He needed to clear his head, the place clouded by vermillion and heat haze.

The rogue Sun sighed and dragged his nails through his hair, glasses perched on his nose as a half-hearted excuse of a disguise.

"Excuse me," a voice started, making the man pause. "Are you okay? You've been sighing your soul out!"

Daiki blinked and turned to the woman who had addressed him, brow pinching in confusion as just to why a random stranger would interrupt someone's personal woes. But as he looked at her, he realised just why this person would interject. Sawada's were known for their unabashed nosiness.

"Just some...issues have arisen, lately," Daiki admitted, finding himself sat at a cafe with Nana, mother of Tsunayoshi and wife of Iemitsu.

"Oh, do you want to talk about it?" she asked, stirring her coffee gently.

The Oyabun pursed his lips before shrugging and taking a sip of his milkshake, finding no damage would come with finding some solace or wisdom in the older woman.

"I'm engaged to be married," he began, getting a wide-eyed blink at his age, but no interruption. "But, I guess to put it simply, I still think about someone else. It's making things difficult and severing the engagement isn't the preferred choice."

"Your marriage," Nana tapered off, suggesting she wanted more insight.

"Is an arranged one, yes. But we've agreed to delay as much as we can and attempt to make it work between us. This issue I have, however, is making it a bit challenging on my end to meet in the middle."

"Ah yes, this is a tricky situation!" she hummed, taking a pull from her cup before cupping her own cheek in thought. "About this other person, why did you break up? Is there some unresolved tensions?"

Unresolved tensions?

The image of Xanxus encased in ice seared his mind's eye. The warmth of the bed before a five ante meridiem flight churned his bones. The gentle trust of a promised return whipped his back with a snake-skin lash.

"It wasn't the traditional break-up, I'd say," he murmured into his shake, "I don't think we ever actually broke up, now that I think about it. We just kind of...put it on ice and haven't had the chance to contact one another since."

"Well, if they had the 'chance'," Nana dropped another sugar into her cup. "Do you think they would have spoken to you by now?"

If he wasn't trapped. If he was free to burn and ravage and run loose like a wildfire, would he have come for Daiki?

"...Yes. If the cards had fallen in a different way, I don't doubt he would have tried to contact me."

Or drag him back across the sea, biting and scratching each other like rabid dogs until one bed or another had been stripped for their rutting. He'd be furious, the Wrath, temper boiling strong beneath his flesh and he'd make Daiki sure of it with every sink of teeth and every filling snap of hips.

Nana blinked at the 'he', seemingly stunned for a moment before she quickly accepted and moved on.

"You two seem to still care for one another. Why did you leave?"

"I had to. I had responsibilities elsewhere and he had some family issues come to light. Our priorities clashed and so I left without telling him. He wouldn't have let me go easily otherwise."

'Left without telling him.' 'He wouldn't have let me go easily.' When was it ever easy to leave? That didn't change the face that Daiki always told him that he would leave, always gave him forewarning, always gave him time.

Everyone had moments in life which they reflect upon with a grimace deep within their hearts; the moment where he had whispered "I just need to do something. I'll be back." was one of Daiki's and his hand twitched to his chest when the dark scene of carding fingers of copper through soot hair sprung upon him.

"If you had the choice, would you go back to him?"

"I don't think I should answer that," Daiki decided.

Nana smiled sadly, getting all she needed to know from the response.

"What about you, Sawada-san?" he asked, taking a good gulp of his chocolate milkshake, licking his lips happily. "You seem to carry a weight with you too if you don't mind my saying."

It started small, but soon Nana was spilling herself for him and he understood that this woman didn't have many others to turn to. She explained her trials and tribulations, single-handedly raising a now ten-year-old son and near no sign of the father in the past fifteen months.

"I just...don't know, really, Watanabe-kun," she sighed, looking into her empty cup. "Do you think he still loves me...or…"

"I believe that he loves you, from what you're telling me there's no doubt of that," Daiki breathed, twirling his straw absently. "However, I don't think he respects you."

"Respects me?" Nana echoed, her eyes searching for a better understanding.

"Your husband loves you and will support you economically. He'll put a roof over your head and food on the table, but he only does so much of an inconvenience to himself. In other words, his work is more important than his family to him."

Nana was stumped. She could hear the truth and see how it was reflecting in her life, how it was reflecting in her son's life. But she didn't know what to do with the information. Her dissatisfaction with the situation went unsolved.

"Then...what should I do?"

Daiki bit his lip.

"That's the hard part, Sawada-san. You could continue as you are, aware of the rift but living safely with both you and child. You could address your opinion to your husband and try to find an equal ground; and if that doesn't work then...Other steps can be taken."

The woman played with an empty sugar packet, busying her hands as she thought through the new information.

Daiki didn't rush her and simply ordered her more coffee and himself another fill of milkshake, humming in thanks as it arrived, his company still weighing her options.

"I just don't want to rock the boat," she admitted after a while, her coffee cooling.

"Go ahead and rock it, if he's so ready to abandon ship then you've learnt he's a man of weak moral."

"But what about my Tsu-kun?" she continued, frowning as she took a drink of luke-warm coffee. "My husband is the only source of income. If he leaves then we'll have to give up so much."

"Yeah, that's a part that sucks, and it's difficult to decide. Is it worth the risk?" he agreed, looking up as a streetlight buzzed to life. "Well, you don't need to make your mind up just yet. There's no rush, and these things can't be rushed. Take your time, sleep on it."

"Mhm," she nodded, looking up as Daiki began to stand. "Oh, you have to go now?"

"Yeah, I left in some things in a bit of a mess and should get back to it. Thank you, Sawada-san, for the talk. I haven't really had someone to speak face-to-face so candidly for...a while."

"No problem, Watanabe-san," Nana giggled, before pausing the man. "Would you like to meet up again soon? Perhaps, next week?"

Daiki blinked and gazed at the woman for a moment, seeing how her hands were clenched in her lap and her smile was tense.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed with a smile, "Meet you here at, say, Wednesday, three post meridiem?"

"Post meridiem?" Nana echoed with a laugh, "What a weird way to say it! Okay, Wednesday at three!"

Daiki rubbed his nape at the habit and quickly paid for both their drinks, disappearing before the woman had realised what he had done. He let out a breath as he got back in the car and scratched his scalp, Goto not so much as asking where he had been and silently drove back to the Compound.

"Thanks, Goto-san," the Oyabun hummed, getting a nod before he strode into the Main House, intent on the chambers he had fled from before.

Mao was still in the room, sitting on their low balcony with some kind of embroidery in her hands. She usually would have gone to bed by now or would have at least gotten ready, but she was still clad in the same kimono he had left her in.

Daiki sighed and dropped his jacket before joining her on the deck, curling an arm around her shoulders and urging her to lay her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry I ran off," he apologised gently, rubbing circles into her bicep as she relaxed.

"It's okay," Mao murmured, putting her hand on his arm. "We both needed time to clear our minds. This isn't something to be done on a whim."

"Mm," he agreed, planting a kiss on her black crown. "Do you still want to?"

She turned her head to look up at him and seemed to gauge his sincerity, before sighing out a breath and taking his copper hand.

Daiki stood an led the woman into the chamber before proceeding to lick her raw and withing, feeling more arms than his partner had to offer wrap around him.

Chapter Text

Word Count: 3,450

"Hey, Daiki, look at this," Xanxus scoffed, shoving a frog in the baker's son's face, the creature wheezing in his grasp.

Daiki looked up from his book and eyed the frog blandly, his prim, primary school uniform of maroon and yellow still donned from the afternoon classes that he should have been attending at the moment hadn't the Sky slipped through the window and dragged him from his desk. He glanced up at the younger boy for a moment, as if trying to decipher something, but seemed to not find what he had been hoping for.

"I'd put that down. It's poisonous."

Xanxus spluttered and let the creature spring from his hands, shoving the tainted flesh into the murky waters of the pond to clear off toxins.

Daiki snorted and returned to the book of fables in his lap, the tale of The Three Little Pigs depicting itself across the page. Before he had been rather roughly removed from his classroom the young Sun had managed to catch the homework for the next day: to find a fairytale which reflects a relationship they had in their lives.

He hummed and thumbed the corner of the page as Xanxus began rooting around the silt floor of the river again, feet sinking into the muddy edge without care, muck squishing between his toes and getting under his nails. Then the Sky scowled and pulled himself straight, gloves of water and soil reaching to his elbows as he narrowed vermillion eyes down at the disregarding copper boy.

"What're you doing? You've been looking at that piggy page for so fucking long!" he snapped, reaching for the book only to have it pulled out of his watery grasp's range. Xanxus sneered in annoyance at being denied but only scratched an itch on his cheek, knowing about Daiki's severe preference for cleanliness.

"I'm idling on this story because I believe I have found the tale which references a relationship I have," Daiki explained, getting a raised brow of disbelief.

"How?" the wrathful little boy scoffed.

The Sun gazed at him for a couple moments, golden eyes dazed and far off, seemingly examining the very fibres of the Sky's essence and sending a violent chill scrambling up the boy's spine.

"Because," he began suddenly, reaching into his pocket and producing a handkerchief as he gestured the Sky to lean closer. "I am the pig who build their house with brick. Strong and sturdy so that no one can blow it down."

Xanxus bared his teeth at the other but bent to squat before the copper Sun, accepting the hand that grabbed his bicep to steady him as the handkerchief came to his cheek and started wiping away the lines of mud.

"But the wolf still finds their way inside," Daiki continued, idly patting away the mess. "And when he does-"

Xanxus took his chance and leant forward, knuckles pressed to the grass on either side of the Sun to steady himself as he tried his luck with the distance. The red Sky grinned something feral before launching himself forward with the full intention of latching his teeth into the supple copper skin of the baker's son - only to have a brass hand clamp around his throat and slam him back into the ground. Grass and dandelions framed the Sky's form as he was held to the earth, the looming, grinning, sneering figure of the Sun eclipsing its namesake.

"I eat him instead."

Xanxus choked as he clutched at the copper wrist but in no way did the gleeful grin loosen from his lips as he stared up with wide, attentive eyes.

"Go on," he wheezed roughly, sinking his nails into the dark skin. "Just try to eat me then."

Daiki sighed as he let Mao cuddle into his side for the night, the cold of the engagement ring biting his skin as she wrapped an arm over his chest. The season had turned a golden with a fading warmth yet again and in their second year of extended engagement, the woman on his arm no longer wavered when she desired his warmth. He hummed and murmured a good night to her as she let out a breath, nose tucked into his throat.

The rogue Sun fiddled with his phone in silence, screen dimmed and orange-hued as he read the rapid texts from the eager Sawada on the other end. She was happily chattering about her son's second-to-final year in elementary school and sending the man pictures of the boy snoozing at their kotatsu. Little Tsuna was just as awkward as he was depicted in the fictional work from the short glances Daiki had managed to snatch of the child in the years, and the knowledge of what he would become was startling.

From: Sawada.N
Would you like to come to dinner on Saturday? Tsuna wants to meet you!

"Oh dear," Daiki muttered, making the woman with him stir and blink at the light.

"What's wrong? Is that the lady you've made friends with?" Mao asked, still just barely awake.

"Yeah, nothing's wrong. Go back to sleep," he hushed, kissing her hair and holding her as she fell away again.

To: Sawada.N
That sounds fine; what time?

The Sun sighed out a breath as Nana urged him to wait a moment as she went to check her appointments, leaving the young Oyabun to let his gaze travel across the shadowed state of the room.

Golden eyes lingered on the door of the supposed unused room connected to his own, before letting his head fall back into the pillows, a wafting of the sweet fragrance that followed Mao filling in senses for one blissful moment. He relaxed and let the scent of something fresh, floral and sugary touch his nose, taking deep, relaxing breaths that led him to the edge of sleep and comfort.

Daiki yawned and took another breath of the sweet metals and smoke fragrance, holding tanned skin tighter and dropping an hourly kiss to the short-haired scalp, feeling blue-jay feathers tickle his lips and nails sink into his back.

The phone went off in his slack grasp and the Lotus pulled away from the Devotee to press an apologetic kiss to the porcelain pale skin of his sleeping bride. He grit his teeth and brushed Mao's hair from her pretty face, burning the sight of her into his mind in both punishment and a desperate bid for relief.

From: Sawada.N
Does five sound good to you?

To:  Sawada.N
Five o'clock post-meridian it is then.

From:  Sawada.N
Post-meridian, of course, haha!

Dear sister Lussuria,

Three months have passed since our last correspondence and I ask after your health. Last I heard Bel had been struck by a fever, and while I doubt it will do him much damage, it would be relieving to hear proof of my hope.

I'm happy that Levi has finally begun to talk to me again and seems to be in better spirits. He took it all hard, perhaps the most outwardly expressive of his distress. He asked for some sake, you should be receiving it just before this letter or at the same time.

I've collected Squalo's package without trouble and am very pleased with it; I had been missing Italian foods for a while. Japanese food is great, but nothing can quite replace a good bowl of authentic pasta. I'll be putting it to good use.

A flight has been booked for the end of the next month and as such, I will be seeing you all again soon. I hope you will all be in good health until then.

Your brother,

Sawada Tsunayoshi, at twelve years old, was a strange boy.

Daiki watched as the little Sky peered at him from the top of the staircase, a nervous tension in his posture that proved how uncomfortable new people made him. Normally, Daiki would disregard people who were closed and stiff and let them go about their business, but he had made a promise to Nana attempt to coax her son out of his shell.

"Hello," the Sun started, smiling gently. "I'm Watanabe-Yamaguchi Daiki, but you can just call me Daiki. May I ask who you are, young man?"

There was a moment of hesitation.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi," he squeaked, throat tight. "Call me Tsuna?"

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Tsuna-kun," Daiki greeted, "Would you like to come and join me in the living room? Your mother is getting dinner ready and has asked me to busy you until then."

Tsuna wavered for a moment before slowly making his way down the stairs, stumbling a bit when his sock slipped from the edge but ultimately catching himself with the railing. When he finally touched down on the landing, he craned his neck to look up at the older man, visibly shaken by the difference in stature and alien nature of this person.

"How old are you, Tsuna-kun?" he asked, gently gesturing for the child to take the lead.

"Eleven," the boy answered quietly, glancing behind him now and then. "What 'bout you, Daiki-san?"

"I'm twenty-one," the man set himself down on a couch across from his younger company and gazed at the boy through his lens, glasses having become a thing of habit to don in the presence of the Sawada family. "Nana-san says that you wanted to meet me."

"Yeah," Tsuna murmured, fiddling with the string of his hoodie in a manner that echoed his mother's desire to tamper when nervous. "Mama was spending more time with someone and...I wanted to meet them."

"Meet," Daiki repeated, his smile knowing. "You wanted to assess."

The young Sky paused at that, his fingers half way through re-knotting the end of the string as he glanced up to look at the other from under his lashes. He pouted his lips a little in shyness and dropped his gaze again, leaving the cord to hang scraggly and undone.

"Daiki-san," Nana cooed, coming into the room with a tray of drinks. "I see you've met my Tsu-kun already. He's such a cutie, isn't he?" she laughed, squishing her son's face in her hands and nuzzling their noses despite how he whined.

"He's a very charming boy, Nana-san. You've raised him well," Daiki agreed, letting his lips quirk as he was regarded from the corner of the Sky's eye.

"Oh, Tsu-kun, you messed up your jacket again," the mother scolded gently, taking the string in hand and quickly doing it back into its knotted form, straightening the lengths to even. "Ah, I left the pot boiling. Dinner will be done soon!"

"Take your time, Nana-san, we'll survive."

With a nod and a giggle, the woman was gone again, leaving Daiki and Tsuna to quietly drink at the chilled water that had been brought out to them.

"You make my head hurt," Tsuna said after moments of silence.

"Do I?"

"Yes," he murmured, staring unabashedly at the Sun.

"Can you tell me why?" Daiki hummed, lowering his cup to pay attention to the youth's plight.

"It's like," Tsuna began, touching his temple and tried to decipher the chaos in his mind. "It's like something's telling me to stay away from you. That I'm not allowed near you."

The Sun leant back into the couch and hummed a low note, eyes drawn to the painting that hung over the child's head, the sky painted red with afternoon and a sinking sun. Arms wrapped around him from behind and pressed through his copper skin as a chin rested on his shoulder, light as air but enough to make Tsuna flinch back into the couch like he had been struck.

"Are you okay, Tsuna-kun?" Daiki asked evenly.

"Headache. It got worse."

Daiki let out a sigh and fingered the rim of his cup before closing his eyes and doing what he hadn't done since his youth. The Flames of Cloud and Sun bloomed on the back of his eyelids and danced about at their calling, touching his core in greeting and complaint at having been discarded for so long. They pawed at his walls and caterwauled for the vermillion eyes of Sky, but were quick to hush themselves at his gesture, simpering down into embers of light.

"What did you do?"

"I hushed them," Daiki answered the boy, Tsuna's hands had fallen from his temples. "Is it better?"

"Who'd you...hush?" he asked slowly, very much perturbed by his mother's new friend.

The Yakuza man smiled and said nothing further as he finished his glass of water and stood, the Sky drawing his shoulders in at the movement, watching him from under his lashes.

"I suppose dinner's just about ready, Tsuna-kun."

"But Mama hasn-"

"Dinner's ready you two, come on in," Nana cooed, peeping out of the dining room before zipping away.

Daiki flashed the stunned boy a smile which spoke of nothing but everything.

The phantom was left sitting on the couch beside his shadow, and Tsuna shivered as he ran past to follow.

Daiki remembered when he had last in the Sawada dining room, a cooling cup of tea sitting before him as he had listened to Nana shudder her way through dialling Iemitsu's number. He had sipped the sweet tea and smiled supportively when the woman glanced at him, her face pale in hesitation and anxiety.

He has listened quietly, not making so much as a sound as Nana had put the phone on loudspeaker to allow his to hear and keep her on course. Twice the Sun had to catch the young mother from falling under the Mafia's word-webs, and three times he had to reach across the table and gently grasp her hand.

Iemitsu and Nana had come to the agreement that he would be more active in his son's life by coming home more often - or at the very least, calling more to talk to Tsuna. It had been a bitter-sweet victory, and one Nana had to fight near tooth and nail for as her husband pulled near every trick to wriggle his way out. But when her requests turned to demands, even the Young Lion of the Vongola knew that he wouldn't get away without a loss.

Daiki sighed as he helped Nana put the plates into the sink as Tsuna swept the floor under the table with his little handheld sweeping pan. The dinner had been a faux-sanguine with the youth ducking his head at all moments but to address his mother, and the conversation between Daiki and Nana being quiet thoroughly censored of all mention of the stray father or the Sun's illicit background.

"So, how's it been between you and Iemitsu-san?" Daiki finally asked after the youth had dashed off to his room at Nana's dismissal, more than willing to flee the presence of the strange man and return to his entertainments. "Last we heard he was still coming short in keeping up his end of the bargain."

Nana hummed into her cup, the glass fogging upon her warm exhale as she was gently pulled from the mood to stand before the leering elephant in the room.

"I've spoken to him about the issue - or, well, I tried to. He was in the middle of something pretty important, I think, and we had to cut it short," she admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But he's promised to come back over the school holidays, so we'll be able to talk face to face. It's not going to be pretty, though."

"Do you want me to be around when it happens?"

"No, I think I'll be okay," Nana denied, before glancing to where the small Sky had fled. "But would it be too difficult for you to look after Tsu-kun for me then? Just for a couple hours - I don't want him to hear it."

Daiki leant back in the chair and nodded, understanding the woman's plight.

"Yeah, I can take him, just call me an hour or so before and I'll pick him up. Any idea where I could take him that would keep him distracted for long enough?"

"He wanted to go to the theme park that opened recently, but I haven't had the time," the mother hummed, poking her cup a bit and making it move across the table. "That should work for a while."

"And if you're not ready by then?" he urged, "Say things take a better turn for the night and you end up-"

"Daiki-san!" Nana gasped, face red with scandal as she cupped her face to smother the heat.

"It's a possibility," the Sun shrugged.

The mother pouted at him and pegged a tissue at his face, making the young man let out a laugh and dodge it with ease. She huffed as he straightened his glasses without care, before returning to the topic.

"If we're still 'busy'," she glared at Daiki when he snorted quietly. "Then would it be too terrible for you to look after him overnight? He won't cause you trouble."

Daiki gave a noise of thought and rested his cheek on his fist, thinking to the pros, cons and responsibilities that came with the night.

"He could have a sleepover at mine? I'm sure my cousins would love to fuss over him and make him all pretty."

"Oh, I'm sure he'd love that," Nana snickered in a rare show of sadism, getting a huff of amusement from the man across from her.


Daiki yawned as he walked through Namimori, the street lights buzzing to life as night swallowed the town with its Westward mouth, teeth of stars blinking into existence overhead. His phone was silenced of its incessant buzzing as the Watanabe tried to get a hold of their wayward Oyabun, glasses perched on his nose in case he were to stumble across a Sawada member.

"I guess, even after all this trouble, I'm still stuck with Tsuna-kun," he breathed to himself, thinking back on his promise to the mother.

Then he paused and turned his gaze down an alleyway, pitch black and unseeable beyond a certain point. He frowned and fingered at the chain hanging from his pocket, brass knuckles clinking together and arm-guards squeezing his wrists.

"Come out," the Sun grunted to the darkness.

He received no human response, but instead, a wheezed bark of pain and despair.

Daiki blinked in confusion before pulling out his phone and tapping on the flashlight, scanning the space of dirt and brick. Another wheeze brought his closer to the corner of a dumpster where a startling flash of dirtied white stunned him.

"Why am I always meeting things in alleyways?" he asked himself as he knelt down and shone the light closer to the white dog's face, hearing its breath come out in pathetic slurs. "Wow, you don't look like you're going to make it past the night."

The pup whined, skin and bones, unable to move more than the muscles in its throat to cry.

Daiki pursed his lips and put his chin in his hand as he stared down at the creature, seeing how sad it was behind the eyes. Empty and tired, lost in both heart and location. Ear gnawed on and rotten, the creature was knocking on death's door and left to wait in the lobby, struggling in pain as the hours ticked by.

"Guess we're both pretty out of our depth?" he laughed pathetically, before reaching out and grabbing the pale pup into his arms. They were both running on borrowed time; Daiki was just waiting for the clock to strike ten and bring down what hell he had built up.

The dog heaved against his shoulder, limp in his hands and jaw lolling as Daiki jogged out of the alley and pulled up his phone.

"Watanabe-dono! Where are you, I'll come immediately."

"Near the arcade, just down at the corner. Fast," he responded, before hanging up and turning to the pup.

Daiki frowned and swiped his hand across its fur, feeling the ridges of each individual rib and notch of vertebrae as he pet it into a calmness.

"It's okay, pup, we found you in time," he soothed, letting Italian roll off his tongue and into the dog's one good ear. "Just rest, rest. I'll look after you," then he smiled and wrapped the creature in his jacket, feeling it settle with the warmth.

Once. Just once, he'd beat time. Burn every time counter until the flames melded with red afternoon skies. He'd beat time, and make it remember who it lost to. But only once, and in an ultimately insignificant way.

"I'll look after you, Mephistopheles, Lord of Time."