Usually, one Hiruma Youichi was on the top of the game. He was the boss, head honcho, you name it. His cunning and extortion ways were legendary…but right now, he had a headache a size of Texas, he was naked and apparently, gulp… married.
And to top off that ridiculous situation he found himself in, he just had to marry a male, hadn't he; a male he knew for – if the glance at the clock on the night stand was right, just… oh, some six hours tops.
And let's not forget the sex. Gritting his teeth silently, as his brain screeched to a halt at this tiny, but not insignificant bit of data… he stumbled to the bathroom and promptly began to hurl the leftovers of his nonexistent meal into the toilet. Inadvertedly, he also looked at the damn thing on his finger.
Fucking ring. He glared at the hapless item half-heartedly, but he had to admit the ring was a nice touch anyway. However, there was just one tiny error with possessing the damned thing. It. Fit. Too. Well. Meaning, no matter how many times he had tried to get it off of his finger, he had no such luck. A man would have thought that with his bony fingers he wouldn't have any such problems, but no, the ring held on as if it had been glued on with some kind of a super-glue or something.
Shakily, Hiruma stood up, glaring at the green and gold tiles on the wall sightlessly. The color reminded him of - his husband's eyes. More vivid, and with tiny golden flecks –
"Fu-uck!" Hiruma hissed out, incensed. For once, his considerable brain power refused to cooperate. Really, just how did it happen, and more importantly, how could that have happened to … them?
Then, he did the only thing he could.
He hit the shower. And while he was soaking under the scorching hot water, he bit by bit, remembered what exactly had happened.
The next day, after they finished the Death March the fucking team decided to hit the wonders of Las Vegas, or more precisely… casinos. And with a very valid reason, too. They lacked the funds the return flight to Japan and had to pay off the fucking trainer's debt on the top of it, and the quickest way to get the needed amount of money was… you guessed it, gambling.
Huh-brothers and Duboroku didn't have any luck. Sena and Monta did, at first, until Monta, in fit of his monkey stupidity, bet all of their winnings on number 21 – and they lost terribly.
The fucking cheerleader was glued to Mamori-nee, as she affectionately called the fucking manager, fucking fatass and his disciple were with the fucking old man, and the fucking prince was being ditz as usual.
And as usual, there came the Great Gambler Hiruma to the rescue. With his brain and tactics he easily wrung out the needed money from the dealer, leaving the poor girl in tears and causing the casino management to almost kick him out in the end, because he practically bled them dry of the cash. Yeah, life was good if you were one Hiruma Youichi.
But because you never can have too much money and just for the heck of it – more than winning Hiruma enjoyed the terror on his opponents' faces when they found out there was nothing they could do to delay the inevitable loss. Clashing his wits against theirs – well, it was just an additional bonus for the bleached devil of the Deimon High.
However, he soon got bored of the casino hustle and bustle and so, he hit the bar. Because Hiruma was a lawless bastard, he didn't order anything fancy like some kind of a fruity drink, but he got straight to the hard –hitting liquor. After some five or six Martinis, he was pleasantly buzzed, enough to contemplate the… teen that was sitting beside him, a good partner for a conversation.
"What'cha celebratin' Green Eyes?" he asked his … soon to be acquaintance, grinning a toothy grin. The addressed teen blinked back, smiling small, dopey smile. "Victory'n freedom." His voice was a pleasant sound, even if a little bit scratchy. Hiruma nodded. "That's always a good reason to celebrate." He offered sagely.
Chuckling, his … drinking. buddy nodded as they clinked their glasses together. "And you? Why are you gettin' buzzed?" His accent was British, Hiruma noticed. And if that hadn't ratted him out, the man was speaking true blue Queen's English. Nobody was more uptight about their mother tongue than Brits themselves. "Yeah. We managed to do the Death March," He explained candidly. "Two thousand kilometers from Texas to Las Vegas here."
Green eyes whistled, impressed. For some reason, the awe in those verdant orbs pleasantly stroked Hiruma's ego, as he puffed out his chest slightly. "Wow. But why did you do this?" Green eyes inquired curiously.
And Hiruma launched into the explanation of his beloved sport. Harry, as Hiruma found out his drink-buddy was called, listened to him attentively, asked some intelligent questions, thought he refused to comment about his little remark about Quidditch. Three shots later, they moved from basic topics to more personal ones. Likes, dislikes and so on. To both of their surprise, they were surprisingly comfortable with the level of intimacy they uncovered to each other.
"An' why don't you have a girlfriend yet?" Harry asked, honestly curious about the blonde devil's answer. "That manager of yours – "
"Che." Hiruma scoffed, waving the possibility off dismissively. "Let's just say we don't click good together. And her over protectiveness over the fucking chibi… Can you imagine her nattering about her 'poor Sena-kun' if we were a couple?"
Harry grimaced at the imagined situation. "Exactly, "Hiruma told him solemnly as they both shuddered at the implications of that particular disastrous scene.
"Nh." Harry grunted as he emptied another shot, not heeding Hiruma's calculating gaze on his person.
Harry wasn't tall – if anything, he was a few inches smaller than Hiruma himself, and more fragile looking, like Sena. His hair was black tousled mass of unruly bangs, he was pale and had some still-healing cuts on his face, along with a scratch or two. The wounds gave him a feral outlook, but nothing extremely badass. Green eyes behind silver square-rimmed glasses were dark and shadowed with maturity, much like a fucking old man's ones, but still held a hint of playfulness and intelligence that drew Hiruma in like moth to flame.
"And you?" Hiruma volleyed back, one eyebrow arched in askance.
Harry snorted. "Had a girlfriend. Didn't work out." He answered cryptically, making Hiruma even more curious. "Hoo? Did she kiss that bad?" he asked, grinning teasingly. Something had unclenched in his gut as he took in Harry's incredulous gaze.
"You're being awfully nosy here, Hiru-tan," Harry deadpanned dryly. Hiruma grinned wolfishly at the small rebuke. "Tell me, have you ever been kissed?" Harry shot the question back at Hiruma.
'Well, shit.' Hiruma clamped his mouth shut, glaring at his now-grinning adversary half-heartedly.
His silence was telling.
Harry's eyes widened incredulously. "Oh my gosh – you are a kissing virgin-mmph!" Hiruma slapped his hand on that all too sexy, smartass and provocative mouth quickly. Something in his spine tingled at the feeling of those soft, chapped lips against his palm.
A wet tongue tickled his skin, and he jerked the hand away. "Eww. Germs."He grimaced as Harry chuckled with mirth.
"And you… Not. A. Word." He warned the bartender threateningly, all fangs bared, making the man quickly nod his assent.
Harry coughed with amusement, drawing Hiruma's attention back to himself. "So… You waiting for Miss Right or what?" He teased anyway, disregarding Hiruma's dangerously narrowed eyes.
"Okay, hot-shot. If you are so experienced, then why don't you show me how it's done?" he deadpanned, making Harry gape with the… proposed solution.
"Well-err, I, uh, I – " Harry stammered, green eyes wide and kind of panicked as Hiruma took the chance and boldly planted one on him.
They froze. Green eyes stared into jade ones, both pairs wide with surprise and unfamiliar feelings.
It was just a touch of lips, nothing more. Then Harry jerked back, missing the slightly hurt look in Hiruma's eyes. "Whoa, wait – why did I have to pop your kissing cherry?" The bartender spluttered with shock at the direct question, but Hiruma was unfazed.
"'Coz I was curious." Hiruma smirked smugly. It was now Harry's turn to sputter. "Wha – Hey, wait a sec-mmph!" With no small amount of delight, Hiruma came back for seconds.
From then on, it just kind of snowballed down to hell. Even if Hiruma was clumsy at the beginning, he learned quickly, and in almost no time flat, he was bold enough to dare to attempt tangling their tongues together.
It was warm, wet and tasting of vodka and martini, making their already pleasant buzz even stronger.
Now he knew, Hiruma thought hazily, just why was fucking dreads so obsessed with frenching his one-nighters. It was definitely nice. Nicer than nice, actually. Hmmm….
Finally, they parted, panting for air as they looked at each other with dazed hunger.
"You lied, "Harry accused him, panting and making Hiruma grin smugly at his flushed face.
"Nah. I'm just one hell of a learner," Hiruma leered back, his grin even toothier than before. Throwing the bartender a wad of money, he grabbed still dazed Harry by waist and yanked him toward the exit.
"Oy, where are you draggin' me?" His partner in crime complained peevishly, as he petulantly glared at him.
Hiruma quirked an eyebrow. "To marriage office, where else?"
Harry gaped at first, his brain failing to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the idiocy of said statement right away. But Hiruma already yanked him again, steering them through the hustle and bustle of Vegas night a little clumsily – they were both sloshed, of course, but still, his intentions were clear.
"Hey, listen, we don't - we don't know each other!" Harry tried to protest, but when Hiruma whirled him around and planted a scorching hot smooch on his lips, all rational reasons about why they shouldn't have been doing that, flew out of the proverbial window.
"Hmm... Any other complaints?" The bleached devil purred out, extremely satisfied with this newfound method of silencing the protests of his soon-to-be spouse. Harry shook his head mutely; his gaze glazed with desire, making Hiruma wonder just how would his prey look like on the bed sheets of his hotel room.
Hiruma whimpered pitifully as he massaged his temples. He had hoped he had been conned into this marriage farce, but to find out that the entire thing was actually his idea...
Clenching his left fist, he acutely felt the shape and weight of the ring that officially proclaimed him as Taken Off The Dating Market.
The water sluiced down his body when he heard a horrified yelp from bedroom. Hiruma groaned, pressing his forehead to the bathroom tiles, and closing his eyes.
It seemed that his… 'husband'… was awake.
The life and times of one Harry James Potter couldn't be described as dull in any way, shape or form. Even if he seemed to be a normal teenager - even if a slightly malnourished and skittish one – he was anything but.
Well, surviving one Dark Lord Voldepants at the tender age of one tended to do that to a man. And let's not forget his numerous adventures in his school. First year – philosopher's Stone. Second – one giant Basilisk. Third – Dementors. Fourth – that bloody Triwizard Tournament and the rebirth of said Voldiethongs. Fifth – prophecy. Sixth – the hunt after Horcruxes.
Just in case, if you are wondering, our Harry-boy is a wizard. A true blue one, flying on a broom, brewing potions and using a wand one. But right now, that is not important.
You see, Harry had taken a sabbatical from the craziness that called itself Wizarding World. And what better way to flee from it to Muggle World – and not only that, but hide in Las Vegas?
Nobody would have thought to search for him there - after all, he was known to be a goody two shoes, a good boy that could do no wrong. So it would be preposterous to just think about him being in the Sin City itself.
Hermione would have had a heart attack at the mere thought of it.
But back to the crux of the matter.
His head was pounding. Who told those evil little trolls they were allowed to use his brain as their anvil, anyway? And most importantly, where had the rum gone? Vodka? Whatever.
Whimpering pitifully, Harry tried to roll himself on his back.
Key word. Tried. His butt was feeling as if someone poked it's innards with white-hot iron stick. Well, at least the sheets were cool and silky underneath his naked skin.
He was trying to relax, but the…'naked' part was bugging him something fierce.
Since when did he sleep commando?
Blearily, he blinked… and promptly wished he hadn't opened his eyes.
Here on his right hand on his ring finger sat… yep, you guessed, it, a ring.
Okay. Get back. Rewind. Shakily, Harry slowly inhaled a breath.
The air in the room was stale, smelling of sex and alcohol, with some kind of a ritzy incense that was typical for rich hotels.
Well. Fact one – he definitely wasn't in his room. No way, no how.
The scents, plus him being naked, add in his aching butt…
He definitely had sex. And not with female.
Good job, Harry. You deserve a cookie.
Blinking dumbly, he narrowed his eyes in deep thought.
Just where were his glasses?
He belatedly remembered someone taking them off… blonde hair, sharp teeth…
And suddenly, he was much more aware of various love-bites on his person. His eyes glazed as he tried to remember the happenings of that last night.
He was in that bar, Red Horse, drinking his vodka in memory of Sirius, when someone called him. "What'cha celebratin' Green Eyes?" the voice was sharp and sinister, all angles like it's owner. Who was, at the moment, sporting a shit-eating grin on his pale face and a challenging light in jade colored eyes, as he was toying with his glass of Martini.
Not knowing why, he smiled back pleasantly . "Victory'n freedom." His voice purred out, and if Harry had some more faculties with him, he would've been horrified at his - kind of flirty – behavior.
But right then, he was buzzed and he didn't care. The blond grinned at him some more. "That's always a good reason to celebrate."
From then on, they struck an amiable conversation, ranging from American football to their personal preferences.
And of course, they just couldn't avoid the subject of dating. Before they knew it, they talked about kissing. Himera – no, Hiruma. Yes. That was the blonds' name. To Harry's great amusement, he was a kissing virgin. However, the joke was on Harry. Even if Hiruma was a kissing virgin at first, he didn't hesitate to plant one on Harry's lips.
And… the kiss was nice. Very nice. Nothing wet or slimy or disgusting. A simple touch of lips. Yet it sent shivers down his spine.
But Hiruma didn't stop here. When Harry was still spluttering about Hiruma's attack of… curiosity, the blond devil moved in for a kill. His lips covered Harry's in a decidedly ravenous way Harry wasn't quite sure he wanted to protest against. As Hiruma's tongue tickled his lips open to sneak into Harry's mouth, Harry was definitely dazed. 'Why did I protest against this again…?'
Hiruma's taste was… wicked. Martini and something decidedly like the blond devil, something that Harry was all too curious and happy to sample.
The taste of fire and brimstone - if Hell tasted like that, Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to go to Heaven anymore. Hiruma's scent was of fire and gunpowder with kind of football-y nuance thrown in, along with an undercurrent note of sweat and warmth.
"You lied." He accused the blond devil as they parted from each other in order to gulp down some air in their breath – starved lungs.
Hiruma grinned dangerously, but with a child-like glee in his eyes. "Nah. I'm just one hell of a learner."
The next thing Harry knew was Hiruma throwing the bartender a fat wad of money and then, they were off.
"Oy, where are you draggin' me?" the wizard complained, still flushed from the latest snog session.
The answer he got floored him.
"To marriage office, where else?"
Green eyes widened to a saucer-like proportions as Harry loudly yelped with horror.
Belatedly, he heard the shower shut down, but he was too shocked to pay any attention to whatever was happening outside of his little revelation.
He tried to take off the offending band.
No such luck. The band was simple – platinum and tungsten entwined in a frail design of Celtic knots. The entire work was so delicate that Harry's stomach immediately dropped with dismay.
This… was no Muggle work.
Dread settled in his stomach. If the rings weren't Muggle, there existed a high chance that they were not only married, but… Gulp… Bonded.
Meaning, stuck together for eternity, with no divorce anywhere in sight.
Happy heard the bathroom door open, but he didn't deign to roll around to look at his husband.
He was still stumped with the latest revelation.
"We are married. " His voice was flat with disbelief.
He heard a shuffle and his - their – bed dipped slightly under his husband's weight.
"Uh… Yeah." Hiruma's voice was a little subdued.
"We are married." Harry repeated, still staring at the ring that mockingly gleamed in the dull light.
Slowly, Harry craned his head around to take his first sober look at his new husband.
"And you didn't even propose to me." He deadpanned, making Hiruma's jaw slacken with disbelief.
"Well, I didn't hear you protest either, fucking greenie," Hiruma shot back, his eyes still a little wide with Harry's remark.
Harry's eyebrow twitched with irritation.
"I blame your kisses," He bit back sharply, flushing at Hiruma's devilish grin.
Hiruma's body was tall and almost rail thin, but he was deceptively strong, as he had proved with carrying Harry through the threshold and into the room. His skin was smooth and pale, reminding Harry of a vampire, even if his teeth disproved of that little theory. His fingers were spindly, and nails likened to miniature claws. His face was narrow, with sharp lines that were accentuated with elf-like ears and spiky mane of blonde hair.
His eyes were unusual jade without pupils, their color enhanced with thick black lashes and if Harry hadn't known any better, he would've thought that Hiruma was blind as a bat. Right now, the same eyes were glowing with predatory light that made him shudder with… dread? Anticipation?
Well, whatever it was, it made his cheeks nicely flushed with heat.
"So you definitely approve," Hiruma's voice was silky, low sensual purr of delight.
His eyes zeroed onto the white towel around Hiruma's slender hips without thought, as he inhaled the clean scent of his devil of a husband as he remembered their…wedding night.
By some pure dumb luck, they managed to stumble into an American football themed marriage office. Harry would've protested weakly, because the entire thing was as gaudy as it could be, if it weren't for colors.
"Ooh… Shiny." Harry cooed in awe of red and gold banners with black accents. Dimly he heard Hiruma chuckling at his childish delight as he tried to touch the lion's emblem that was emblazoned over the crimson expanse of the cloth.
He flushed as Hiruma squeezed his waist possessively, and nuzzled the back of his neck. "Hm. You smell nice, "The blond devil hummed to him, making him giggle with drunken delight. "R– Really?" Harry asked shyly, as he relished his soon-to-be husband's embrace. Normally Harry wouldn't have been such a cuddle bug, but he was high on victory, freedom and drunk to Hell and back, and it was nice to be wanted and appreciated for something else than him being the Boy-Who-Won.
And the kisses were nice…. They were awesome.
"So you came in this holy place to make a pact before God of football and touchdowns," The voice behind them boomed loudly.
Harry almost jumped out if his skin, and Hiruma pointed his faithful rifle at the pastor lightning fast and releasing some bullets, making the man yelp and dance in an attempt to avoid the shower of missiles aimed at his feet.
"Where the fuck were you dawdling, fucking official?" he snarled out, his pissed voice making Harry all hot and bothered for some reason.
"Uh, well… I was praying to the God of football and touchdowns!" the man yelped out, still avoiding the bullets nimbly.
Suddenly, Hiruma stopped the hail. "Just marry us, fucking running back."
The man blinked owlishly. "How did you know?" He asked, baffled.
Hiruma smirked. "Footwork."
Ten minutes later, they were standing in front of the marriage official, clad in black and white jerseys – Hiruma's was black with number 01 in white, while Harry's was white with black number 13. Hiruma's eyebrow quirked at Harry's choice of number, but Harry just smirked cheekily, making Hiruma huff with amusement.
The official cleared his throat and began: "Almighty God of football and touchdowns, those two young men stand in front of you tonight, for you to witness their promises to each other. "
Harry wanted to giggle at the priest's choice of words, but chose to keep his mouth shut. After all, it wouldn't do to be disrespectful at his own wedding, would it?
The priest coughed. "Now you – " He motioned to the blond devil, eyeing the rifle against Hiruma's tight cautiously.
"Hiruma Youichi." Hiruma generously told his name to the priest, grinning.
"Do you, Hiruma Youichi, promise to – " Harry snorted "Harry James Potter." He offered, smiling a sardonic smile, as Hiruma blinked with confusion, neither of them noticing the priest 's wide eyes.
"Well – Ahem, Harry James Potter to always be on the same team, to play with each other fairly, to rejoice in touchdowns you will win together, to keep each other through the losses? Do you promise that you will be his safety, running back, quarterback, tight end – " Harry had to choke down a guffaw at this one – " – and linebacker in good and bad, in health and sickness, all days of this match, called life?"
"Yeah, I do." Hiruma replied, smiling a wicked smirk at blushing Harry, but not releasing the hold of Harry's hand.
Nodding, the priest then turned to Harry. "Do you, Harry James potter, promise to Hiruma Youichi to always be on the same team, to play with each other fairly, to rejoice in touchdowns you will win together, to keep each other through the losses? Do you promise that you will be his safety, running back, quarterback, tight end – " Hiruma leered at that word, making Harry blush and pout. - " – and linebacker in good and bad, in health and sickness, all days of this match, called life?"
Blinking dreamily, Harry grinned. "Yes, I do."
Nodding, the priest smiled at the pair warmly. "So mote it be, may you live in interesting times. With powers that were vested unto me, by state and God of football and touchdowns, I proclaim you married and bonded. You may kiss the spouse," He directed Hiruma, who grinned toothily and took full advantage of his new privilege.
In their little snog-fest, neither of them noticed the old man muttering something under his breath as the gentle golden glow enveloped the duo.
Coughing politely, the priest looked at the two newlyweds with fond annoyance. "Gentlemen… Your rings, if you will. "
Both of them parted with a groan of dismay.
"Do we have to?" Hiruma uncharacteristically whined, his eyes glued to the just-ravished lips of his spouse.
Harry sighed. "Yeah. So…?" He tilted his head on side, like an adorable pup, prompting Hiruma to peck him on the nose.
Hiruma went first, grabbing the offered band carelessly, as he swiftly put it on Harry's ring finger. "Mine," he purred softly into Harry's ear, delighting in the minute shiver it produced.
Wordlessly, Harry nodded and then clumsily proceeded to put the other ring on Hiruma's finger. With a little help from his husband, he managed, emitting a small yip of triumph, while Hiruma cackled softly.
The priest nodded. "Almighty God of American football and touchdowns, I present you Youichi Hiruma and Harry Hiruma-Potter, so mote it be!"
And with those final words, the music of 'We Are The Champions' began to play, but neither of the young newlyweds noticed, too absorbed in each other.
Hiruma Youichi, Hell Commander, Demon, Devil, the batshit insane one, as they called him, gazed at the mortified form of his husband.
It really didn't help that his… husband… stared at his towel – covered crotch. Not that Hiruma minded, at any rate. He rather liked the eyeful of naked skin Harry was unconsciously presenting to him right now.
The more time passed by, the more Hiruma liked the idea of them being together . Their… chemistry… was an explosive one, and despite Hiruma not knowing a whit about his spouse – well, outside their little heart-to-heart session – he was willing to ride the wave and take the future as it came. Usually, any sane human would wet their pants with fright in Hiruma's situation. But Hiruma was different. Even hardcore gamblers had a threshold to which they dared to go, but Hiruma's was… shockingly low. If there was even a 0,001 percent chance to win, he'd grab and run with it. Some people would thing that kind of mentality to be slightly… unstable, but it served Hiruma well, because his opponents never knew whether he bluffed or not.
But when he was presented with such delicious dilemma in shape of his… husband, Hiruma just couldn't help himself. Yes, the risks were great. Yes, he was in an unfamiliar territory. Bur for some reason… Hiruma felt compelled to get out of the given situation the best he could
When they had gone through Death March, Hiruma didn't even think that it would change his life so decisively.
All it took was one evening, his boredom and a pair of viridian eyes peering up at him from an adorably flushed face.
He smirked as he recalled their wedding night.
After the ceremony, they changed back to their clothes, only keeping their jerseys as memento of their union. Because they were buzzed enough, and interested in deeper exploration than just tonguing each other's tonsils, their decision to head off to nearest hotel room was unanimous.
They stumbled into the ritzy-looking hotel room, courtesy of using Hiruma's little black book and Harry's glare. Even if Harry was drunk as a skunk, or nearly to that state, he still had 'The Glare' as his peers termed it. Wizards were not immune- the similarity of those eyes with the light of Killing Curse was unnerving, and Muggles didn't stand a chance.
Humming, Hiruma nuzzled into that delicious looking neck, making Harry giggle in process, before Harry tugged him into the bedroom.
The bedroom was done in dark tones with cream colors and golden hints, but right now, the two newlyweds were more interested in each other.
"Clothes. Off." Hiruma growled into one ear, making his prey squirm deliciously against his body. Harry was thin under those clothes, but undoubtedly toned, making Hiruma's hands itch to explore his body.
The warmth and closeness should have spooked him somewhat – this was his first time after all, but as the fumbled through caresses and trying to yank the annoying garments off their bodies the fastest way they knew to, there was only heat and wonder.
One of Hiruma's hands sneaked under Harry's jersey, making the wizard squeak a little, but Harry obviously took Hiruma's move as some kind of a challenge, and promptly grabbed the blonds' butt, making Hiruma yelp, smirking in amusement, before Hiruma growled and shoved him against the wall. "It's not nice to tease," Hiruma murmured, looking at Harry's smug face. Harry's smirk didn't vanish in the face of the purred-out threat. Instead, it became even bigger.
"Oh ya? And what do you intend to do about that?" Harry volleyed back, making Hiruma's grin widen to devilish proportions.
"This," Hiruma commented, yanking Harry's jersey off, only to leave it tangled within Harry's arms, forcing Harry to hold them above his head if he wanted to see what his devil lover planned next.
Hiruma licked his lips as the slender, lightly scarred chest was exposed to his hungry haze. Harry's skin was pale and slightly flushed with heat, his nipples already contorting into uncomfortable looking pebbles. Said pebbles fascinated Hiruma enough to lower his head and lightly bite the right one, making his partner bit out a curse and arch against him.
"Hiruma, you fucker - !" The accusation was half-hearted at best, as Harry strained to get away, or come closer, he was unsure of it, but whatever made Harry react like that, was a good thing in Hiruma's books.
"Hmmm… Tasty." Hiruma purred as he licked the abused skin, one of his hands holding Harry's haphazardly tied wrists above his head firmly.
Yes, Hiruma had a hold on his prey and he reveled in it.
The desperate growl made him chuckle as he nuzzled a path from the right pectoral to that tempting slender neck, he couldn't help himself but thoroughly mark it, making Harry mewl and curse against him helplessly.
"Hi-Ru-Ma…" The green – eyed man growled out threateningly, making Hiruma's spine tingle at hearing that husky, debauched – sounding voice.
"Yes?" Hiruma asked, acting nonchalant – but only until one of Harry's feet caressed the inner side of his legs, making his mouth dry at the implication of the gesture.
"You're an ass." Harry breathed out, making Hiruma chuckle deviously before they both moaned as their crotches briefly rubbed against each other.
"And proud of it," Hiruma breathed out, as he nuzzled the dark strands of that impossibly messy hair.
"As if that's something – "Harry gasped "To be proud of, bastard," He finished, shivering as Hiruma pressed closer to him, his jade eyes staring into his own viridian ones.
Hiruma just smirked. "In that case, yes."
Harry stared into that one spot blankly.
It was preposterous.
His brain was running in a loop, presenting the hard evidence that this last night – whatever it had been – was entirely consensual.
Even worse, he had enjoyed it.
'And why shouldn't you?' The rational - or rather, horny - side of his brain snarked at him. 'He's your husband, and it's normal to… enjoy your spouse's… prowess in the bed.'
Privately, Harry balked at the description. It just didn't add up in his pretty little world. He just wanted to have a little vacation, far, far away from the mad world and its inhabitants, as he rightfully deserved after finishing off the snake menace, but no.
'Someone up here hates me,' He thought glumly. He shouldn't have been married right after his first and only drinking foray but it happened. He should have had his first sexual experience – more than just smooching, anyway – with a woman, but noo, he just happened to stumble upon the stupid demon that was virgin at kissing, and lose his… virginity to the said demon also.
And he didn't even get a decent marriage proposal out of the prick, too.
That just hadn't been his day-err, night.
He wanted to whimper. Really. However, he had a sneaky suspicion that if he emitted that particular sound, it would be seen as a capitulation from his…. devilish… opponent.
The white spot he was glaring down moved.
'…. White spot?'
Blinking rapidly, he readjusted his sight…. And blushed spectacularly.
"Kekeke, you sure are very bold, fucking green eyes," Harry jerked at the sound of that demonic voice, flushing even deeper if it was possible.
Yelping with embarrassment, he covered his face with his arm, but in that instant, he froze with horrified realization.
He. Was. Fucking. Naked.
And that blonde ass of a devil didn't even have the common courtesy to mention that little tidbit to him!
First, he unintentionally behaved as a pervert, ogling other man's crotch as if it were a – an exhibition piece, and then – he was buck naked, like some kind of a hedonist, all for the viewing pleasure of the dick that didn't have the brains to cover him with something!
Oh yeah, his day was already shot to hell.
This time, he didn't even try to contain the whimper that threatened to claw it's way out of his throat.
He was so doomed.
The bed dipped as Hiruma sat down on the mattress, and Harry could practically feel the smugness rolling off of the bastard. He made no movement to get away – it would be futile, anyway, and he really didn't want to give Hiruma more ammo on him he already had.
Rita Skeeter, eat your little beetle heart out.
"Hey…" He heard Hiruma's voice distantly, as he still wallowed in his misery. "You alright?"
And oh wonder of wonders, the devil had the galls to sound concerned!
"No, I am NOT alright." He grumbled back. "I am mortified, naked and my ass hurts. So excuse me for behaving like spoiled little bitch."
The devil chuckled.
"Well, if that's all…" Some more shuffling commenced, but Harry didn't care to look.
"Here." A bottle of … something was nudged against his shoulder, making him flinch at the coldness. "C'mon, open your eyes," Hiruma cajoled, tempting Harry with the promise of fresh, cool liquid.
After a moment of debating with his inner voice, Harry decided his pride had suffered enough to bend down a little more and take it up its proverbial tush, and he moved his arm with which he shielded his face in an attempt to futilely held away the traitorous blush.
He was rewarded with a sight of bottle water and a Tylenol pill, which he promptly snatched out of Hiruma's hands.
He then rolled on his hip, shuffling awkwardly, and proceeded to gulp the gift of gods down his throat.
It was pure heaven.
He sighed blissfully, as he emptied half the bottle in one go – man, the sex business was tiring. If Voldeshorts got some nookie time when he was younger, Harry was sure he wouldn't have been such a tight-ass about blood purity'n all, and the wizarding quacks would live their happily ever after.
Harry blinked blearily.
Well, ain't that a food for thought.
But dealing with little Voldies… nah. Although… the image of Death Crunchers trying to deal with Voldiegarten….
Harry was just glad Wizarding world didn't know the wonders of cellular reproductions and cloning.
Hallelujah for Muggle world. Sometimes it was just wonderfully convenient to be thought as an inferior kind of human species.
Blinking, his eyes zeroed back on the other occupant of his bed.
"You are my hero," He said to Hiruma dryly, before promptly choking when he saw just what the man was wearing.
The damned devil went commando.
And the said devil had the galls to grin at him. "What? With both of us naked you don't have the excuse of being naked anymore."
"Mortification is still an option," Harry answered dryly, making Hiruma cackle softly.
"But really – are you alright?" Hiruma asked softly, jade eyes glinting with… was that concern?
Harry sighed. "As much as I can be, what with me being married and all," he agreed dryly, trying to keep his eyes above Hiruma's belt.
They stared at each other, green eyes boring into jade colored ones, Harry had a feeling Hiruma was reading him like a book.
A moment later, Hiruma shuffled closed. "Budge over," The blonde grumbled as Harry looked at him with his eyes a mite bit wider.
Sighing, Harry complied. He flinched a little when he felt another warm, naked body press against his skin, still a little uncomfortable at the… intimacy of the gesture.
It was disconcerting, for him to allow so much… touching so soon. In all rights, he should have been jumpy like long-tailed cat in the room full of rocking chairs. But watching the teen snuggle against him, his face serious and jade eyes a little bit softer, even if Harry was still a little bit freaked out as Hiruma didn't have any pupils – only jade colored cornea, making him see as if he were blind.
Weird eye impairments aside, Hiruma was gentle, even if a little bit rough unintentionally sometimes. Harry was reminded of a feline that occasionally pricked it's owner - excuse me, human, with its claws to assert the ownership.
Hiruma was thin, almost to the point of being skinny, and with his limbs, his movements should have been awkward. But it was not so, Harry marveled, as his new husband cuddled up to him almost carefully, their gazes still firmly held together, even as Hiruma tugged the coverlet over their forms.
"I want us to stay together." Hiruma murmured out, his gaze strangely vulnerable at Harry's gasp at his proclamation.
The meaning of those five simple words echoed in Harry's brain, triggering another flashback of the last night.
The clothes were off as they moved to the bed. Harry barely had the time to appreciate the silk sheets and the color scheme - well, not the color scheme, but silk against his skin, was a good study of contrasts of cool fabric versus their own heated skins.
He gasped as Hiruma found his nipple, worrying it a little with his shark teeth, and it felt bloody fantastic, even if it was weird at first, but when Hiruma bit harder, it sent Harry's senses spinning with pleasure.
"Hoo? A closet masochist?" Hiruma drawled out smugly, his voice husky, making Harry huff with embarrassment and arousal. "You are taking advantage of me." Harry complained half – heartedly, as he restlessly shifted under Hiruma's body, making them both hiss at the contact of their lower halves.
It was warm, weird and…
Harry never would have thought he would be rubbing his bits alongside the bits of the other bloke, but right then, it seemed the most brilliant idea ever, and well, it wasn't as if either of them could get pregnant.
He shivered as he tried to shift so he could reach the maximum pleasure, but not the mind – blowing one… Not yet.
His member strained, and it was a sensation of that… rigidity and softness that drove him onward, as he clung to Hiruma, not knowing what to do next.
Luckily, Hiruma did. Soft, chapped lips touched his, and a clever tongue teased his mouth open, all that for wicked tongue playing with his, mixing their breaths, tastes and saliva, and it should have been gross, like that one kiss with Cho, but Harry only had to sweep over those wickedly sharp teeth to know that this was not Cho or Ginny or whoever else, his head jerking a little when he nicked the tip of his tongue on one of those fangs.
Hiruma murmured in protest as his attempted retreat, sucking his tongue in, laving the tiny little wound, flavoring their kiss with iron and something intangible that reminded Harry of life.
Hiruma's tongue was raspy, like cats and it rubbed against Harry's delightfully, exploring Harry's mouth thoroughly, just like Harry did to Hiruma's mouth a few moments ago.
For a beginner, Hiruma was dominating the kiss with an assurance borne of gambling, and Harry followed him, attempting to wrestle control back here and there, but he was otherwise too preoccupied with moans and groans he emitted in the wake of pleasure.
Hiruma's hands slid across his skin, searching, playing and tracing the lines. He seemed to be especially fascinated with Harry's scars, but Harry distracted him with rolling them over and sitting on him, making both of them gasp and curse at the new sensations that sparked at the contact.
"Damn it, green eyes…" Hiruma's voice was breathy and scratcher than before, making Harry want to smirk at the unhinged look in his partner's eyes. "You sure you haven't done it before?"
"Pretty much," Harry groaned back as he rutted against the bulge beneath his ass, his hands splayed wide on thin, but muscled chest below him.
"Ya hafta be cheatin' then," Hiruma grunted, as Harry punished him with a particularly vicious thrust of his pelvis, making Hiruma clench the hands on Harry's hips almost to the point of pain.
Harry punished him with a stinging bite on the neck, making him yowl with pain.
Hiruma stared at the youth beside him silently. He never felt as bare as he had in those moments after proclamation.
He was used to bluffing, boasting and outright declarations, but he wasn't used to saying those three overly-sugared words to anyone. Sure, he liked his team, and he had began, to some extent, to trust them….but only time will show whether his trust was misplaced or not. But with them being so enthused to go to Christmas Bowl…it was a no brainer.
However, this… This was something else. It took only one night, and as fucking greenie pointed out, he didn't even propose – and they got hitched – irrevocably – in some garishly decorated Las Vegas chapel with some fucking hippie running back as their marriage official.
Yet, even if he had been stumped at first when he comprehended the enormity of the situation – it wasn't any day he decided to tie a knot – something compelled him to… request... that.
He may have purposefully displayed the view of weaknesses to his opponents, but even he wasn't so dumb as to purposefully bare his true feelings to show his some stranger he had only met the night – or evening before.
He was taking a frightfully risky gamble – even for him.
But something in those jeweled green eyes….
Something tugged at him, and even if he didn't know anything about love – he had never been in love before, and he had a feeling that his… spouse hadn't been, either – that something nudged him straight off the proverbial cliff, with no safety net under him.
Usually, he would have relied on statistics and numbers.
This time, he irrationally trusted his gut.
One slender eyebrow twitched.
Harry gaped at the blond devil that was currently cuddling him.
'He's – he's serious!' His shocked brain translated Hiruma-gabble into appropriate meaning. The green eyed wizard was thrown in for a loop. He didn't expect of his… captor to be so – mature about their predicament. Sure, Hiruma was one sadistic son of a bitch, as had been evidenced last night, what with his restless teasing and taunting of Harry until usually reserved wizard practically demanded to be fucked within an inch of his life… which Hiruma gladly obliged to do.
He watched as Hiruma's eyebrow twitched, those jade eyes narrowing with irritation. His own face was blank with shock still. He knew that magical bondings were irreversible, but Hiruma –
"Are you sure?" He asked the pointy – eared teen quietly. "We are still young and you could find someone – "
Hiruma's left ear twitched. It was just a minute movement that most of people wouldn't notice, but Harry wasn't the youngest Seeker in the century for nothing. "Che. What's with you and your martyr complex, fucking greenie?" Hiruma asked as he tugged one of the longer locks of that dark hair, making Harry yelp with indignation. "Hey!"
Green eyes narrowed. "And who says I have martyr complex, anyway?" He demanded, peeved that Hiruma could read him so accurately.
Hiruma snorted. "It's written all over your fucking face, fucking greenie." He answered flippantly, intentionally showing off his shark teeth to his annoyed partner, who promptly whacked him on the face with a small pillow, making him yelp with surprise at his action.
"Twit," Harry insulted him dryly, content as the medicine finally dulled the twanging pain in his posterior. However, his spine chilled at rather predatory gleam in his husband's eyes.
"Join the Deimon Devilbats, YA- HA!" The devilish blond cackled happily, making Harry rather wary and confused.
'Is that some new brand of fan girls I didn't know about?' Harry mentally asked himself, as he tried to squirm away from the nutso.
"Uh… I'd rather not." Harry mumbled out, mouthing out a silent curse as his attempt at fleeing his new husband was thwarted rather efficiently. "Besides, I am not interested in participating in any cult – "
"Cult?" He repeated the offensive word rather… incredulously. "You think I would invite you to a…. cult?" Harry blinked, confused. "You're not?" He asked meekly.
"Kekeke, of course not, fucking greenie," Hiruma grinned with savage delight, scenting his prey was weakening. "It's American Football!"
Harry groaned out miserably. "Just my fucking luck," He complained sourly, as he allowed his head thump down on the pillow. And indeed, it was just his fucking luck, as he had termed it. Only Harry was somehow capable to unintentionally find a sports maniac of one of the most dangerous sports known to the mankind and wed him in one breath.
And they said Quidditch was dangerous for one's health.
Hiruma was happy. Wait, no, he was fucking ecstatic. Harry's miserable grumble didn't dissuade him from his enthusiasm. The fucking greenie had even faster reflexes than the fucking dreads, and that was saying something! Of course, he would have to… convince his fucking husband to participate, but that shouldn't be too hard, right?
He nuzzled the exposed throat lightly, hiding his smirk as he remembered the passionate side of his new partner.
Hell, yeah, he had hit a jackpot.
Closing his eyes, his heart gave a jolt at the memories…
"Fu – cking greenie!" Hiruma hissed, as he felt the sting on his throat, his hips jolting up without his consent. Then, he grinned a rather terrifying grin. "So… you wanna play rough, eh?"
Harry grinned challengingly down on him, his lips bloodied with the small amount of crimson liquid he managed to sample in his pursuit to teach Hiruma a lesson.
His nails dug into the skin of Harry's hips, making him hiss and green eyes flashing in challenge.
Hiruma may not be as fast as Harry, but he was stronger and he definitely knew how to get on top.
Skating the palms of his hands alongside the soft skin, dragging them up slowly and sensually, making Harry whimper with need, until he beckoned Harry to sit on his stomach. His member of course protested at the loss if the warmth and friction, but Hiruma was patient.
All in good time, of course.
His hands travelled up, switching from sides to stomach, gliding over pectorals until they clutched slender shoulders firmly as he yanked Harry down on his chest, nipping the exposed column of that slender, pale throat teasingly, while with his left hand, he embraced the slender waist, and his right sneakily probed the tempting crack, making his prey whine at the contact.
Hiruma may have not been experienced himself, but he knew enough about such things – he had learned from American soldiers a great deal more than just gambling and American football – he just didn't think that the lessons of more intimate nature would be used so soon, or in such a way.
He looked at the fucking greenie's face – flushed, as if he had a fever, and dotted with sweat, green eyes darkened with passion and slightly unfocused due to the lack of glasses.
He was the sexiest damned thing Hiruma had ever seen in his relatively short life.
And what was better, he was his.
Harry made an uncomfortable noise, prompting Hiruma to retreat his wandering hand regretfully, before he squeezed the plump cheek, prompting his partner to hiss through his teeth like annoyed cat.
"You're gotta be shittin' me," The green – eyed youth grumbled, as he tried to slink away from the rather inappropriate touch.
" I shit you not," Hiruma answered dryly, as he grabbed his husband's member, making him yowl with onslaught of new, more intense feelings. " But I will pop your fucking cherry, got it?"
"NNh - !" Harry's protest was lost as he arched against that hand which gave him such deliciously feeling pleasure. "It's not season for – cherries," He panted out, making Hiruma snicker rather evilly at his feigned ignorance.
Hiruma had deemed his hand and fingers to be wet enough with Harry's juices to be of use, so he pulled Harry down on his chest, then swiftly rolling around, disregarding Harry's exclamation of surprise and protest.
Quickly, he clambered on his knees, slinking between Harry's thighs, as he lifted Harry's legs on his shoulders. His new husband was stunned and inebriated enough to allow him to execute that particular trick with minimal resistance on his part.
"Hey – " Harry tried to say something, but his eyes widened with pleasure and shock as Hiruma double – teamed him – one hand on his member, and another to twist behind the balls in search of his backdoor entrance.
Hiruma himself wasn't unaffected as he was showing himself to be. His skin was heated and damp with sweat, and his hair was even messier than usual, the spikes a little droopy with moisture. He panted, gulping and exhaling the air in a hurried, uneven tempo that betrayed his excitement clearly enough. He shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to blow his load, but not before he claimed his fucking greenie in all the ways there were.
Slender fingers gilded easily enough behind the sternum, making Harry emit a small scream, when they bypassed it, and starting to poke and tease the hidden entrance behind.
"Hiruma – oh – "Harry was beyond words, squirming with delight and trying to come closer to his tormentor and pleasure giver at the same time.
"Ch – " Hiruma chuffed with effort, but then, the fucking greenie's hands yanked his hair painfully, making his jade eyes narrow as he growled threateningly. "Ow! What the hell, fucking greenie! That hurt!" He snapped out, peeved.
"Something else of yours will hurt too, if you don't hurry up and get me off!" He got equally snappy reply back that made his jaw slack temporarily with the surprise, before he grinned.
"Hell yeah. Let's do it." He responded cheerfully, making Harry look at him with wariness.
'Too late, fucking greenie.'
Harry should have known that threatening Hiruma wasn't the best approach to getting what he wanted, but he couldn't have known that. However, he found this little tidbit of information the fast way.
Blinking away the sweat that threatened to get in his eyes, feeling a small sting, he was bent practically halfway on that king – sized bed, with his knees on Hiruma's thin shoulders, and pretty sure he was offering the demon a nice display of his junk, not that he cared – the pleasure was well worth it, in any case.
He made a sound when those delightful fingers exited – and he would never, ever, not under any circumstances, admitted that this little sound was a mewl of disappointment - and then, his eyes grew large with shock as he felt something thicker trying to push in.
It was thick and warm and insistent – and Harry gasped with pain, as his eyes teared with the overwhelming sensation. The only experience he had with getting things in or out, was taking care of relieving business and washing the now violated area. Of course, he was curious, and tried to discover more, but it was different from his fingers – bigger, certainly, and more painful.
"Relax, fucking greenie," Hiruma huffed into his ear, as Harry gasped with a new wave of pain. It felt as if he was being torn in half and he wondered just why he was stupid enough to try that.
He was married.
He huffed, rolling his eyes. "You try to relax when you have a pole riding up your ass!" He snapped, peeved, his voice strangled with effort. "Ye Gods I am so happy I am not a fucking girl right now…" He lamented, imaging the horror the female half of species got through, what with popping their cherries and birthing kids.
Hiruma cackled. "Kekeke… You got that right, fucking green eyes." And with that, he didn't give Harry time to retort with a scathing tirade, but shoved in, making Harry yelp like a wounded dog.
Harry 's eyes widened. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU BASTARD-!" He hollered as the pain speared through him. Fingers twitching, he aimed at Hiruma's scrawny neck, intent on imitating the black widow thoroughly. Ergo, permanently offing the sadistic bleach-haired demon on top of him.
Jade eyes widened, and Hiruma missed the claws for a hair width. "Whoa. Calm down, the hardest part is over with now."
If he had thought that would pacify Harry, he was sorely mistaken. His fear of the slender firecracker beneath him temporarily stopped him from thoroughly enjoying the pleasure of being within his lover.
Better be safe than sorry, after all.
Harry growled as he opened his mouth to berate Hiruma loudly, when he was being kissed out of his wits. Whimpering with annoyance, he tried to fight back, but kisses were too good of a distraction – and when his body gave a jolt of pleasure as his member was stimulated again, his defense was shot to hell. A careful nibble on his neck, and he sighed.
Well, Hiruma won a battle.
'But,' Harry thought sourly, 'I will win a war.'
He didn't win a war, Harry reflected glumly. Simply put, Hiruma came, saw and conquered, not necessarily in that working order.
However, Harry had to admit that pleasure was mind blowing, even if the… aftermath… was less than pleasant. Harry supposed it would get easier with practice –
Wait. Practice? As in, allowing the demon sticking him up on his meat stick again?
First time was hard enough, thank you very much.
But really, aside from his ass being skewered, it was… alright. Although that didn't mean he would let the bastard anywhere near his posterior for a long, long time. And he would hex the demon if he tried to persuade him, the Secrecy Act be damned. Nothing was more important than sanctity of his behind, thank you very much!
He sighed as he laid back on the mattress. In a matter of hours, his life had done a complete turnaround. He came to Las Vegas, checked into the hotel, got a sightseeing tour and ambled into the bar to get piss drunk in memory of his dogfather – and yes, he deserved booze too, what with him pulling one off over the Dark Idiot and successful tactical retreat from Wizarding world. As they said – old enough to kill, old enough to get drunk on hard liquor and definitely old enough to have wild sex with some random stranger.
Only, Harry's strange brand of luck turned up again, and he ended not only with mother of all hangovers, but married to a complete stranger, with no possibility of divorce.
"So, what now?" He murmured out, his eyes half-lidded as he stared at the creamy-colored ceiling, feeling Hiruma's warm breath against his neck, as the strands of blond hair tickled his cheeks, as he absentmindedly nuzzled into the fragrant mess.
Three heartbeats later, Hiruma answered him. "We rest. Then, we will have a breakfast or lunch, I don't fucking care." His voice was soft and thoughtful. Humming in approval, Harry nodded. "And after that?" He inquired lazily, his voice muzzy with sleepiness.
He got a soft kiss as an answer. "Nah, you won't find out everything just yet, fucking green eyes," Hiruma smirked at him, trying to rile him up, but Harry only frowned instead of scowling. "But I can tell you one thing – we will be together."
Harry wasn't sure if he should look forward to their life together, or dread it.
"Where the hell is Hiruma?" Mamori asked, annoyed as she looked on the wristwatch again. The Devilbats were currently waiting for their errant leader, wondering just where Hiruma had managed to vanish off to. And it wasn't like their erstwhile leader, just leaving them to stew in wait for them.
Add the fact that Hiruma had their passports, and well… they weren't happy.
"M– Maybe he got s-sick?" Sena stuttered out, brown eyes huge as he clutched to his bag.
"Hiruma? Sick?" Juumonji scoffed disdainfully. "Che, as if. He's most likely either blackmailing someone or drunk off his skinny arse." Toganou and Kuroki grunted with agreement, while Kurita shook his head. "Uh, no, Hiruma wouldn't have done that…" The chubby lineman protested, but looking at the doubtful faces of his teammates, he gulped. "Or would he?"
"Yaa! Maybe he had met a girl and he married her!" Suzuna piped up cheerfully, making everyone except her brother look at her as if she lost the tiny amount of brain she had, as she twirled on her inline skates, daydreaming.
"Hiruma… Marrying a chick?" Monta asked incredulously. "Unbelievable MAX!" He declared, as he chomped onto the tenth banana in five minutes, pointing a hand with stretched pointer upwards, as he nodded to himself self-importantly.
Mamori sighed with annoyance. But the idea, hare-brained as it was… stuck somewhere in the back of her brain.
"Kekeke, gossiping like old ladies about little ole me already, are we?" A very well known voice made the team jump with fright, and one particular running back emit high-pitched scream of fright.
They looked to see their captain – and their jaws dropped.
Hiruma was… positively glowing. The bleached demon was clad in black jeans with similar black T-shirt. He was looking like his usual demonic self, dragging around the gym bag with his clothes, an AK-47 on his shoulder and their flight tickets in other hand. Nothing unusual, right?
Most of the team had known Hiruma long enough that they known his general expression – ire, happiness, deviousness, anger, satisfaction and so on.
But right now, Hiruma seemed… content. And perhaps a little bit smug, too.
"Hiruma…?" Kurita ventured out hesitantly. His friend was in unusually good mood, and Kurita was happy for him, but whenever Hiruma was this happy, something was bound to happen… and Kurita had enough of experience with Hiruma-happenings that he was a little hesitant of Hiruma's good fortune.
Jade eyes cut to the chubby linebacker, but Hiruma wasn't irritated with unvoiced question.
"Hiruma! Where the hell were you last night!" Mamori screeched, making the team flinch back at her voice. Even Monta eyed her incredulously. Surely she wasn't so stupid as to interrogate the Hell Commander?
Mamori marched forward.
Oh yeah, she definitely was suicidal enough.
"In my room, fucking manager," Hiruma answered, his grin widening at her outraged face.
"You were not! I checked – "She abruptly stopped that venue of explanation at the incredulous stares of the team. She blushed as she fiddled with the handle of her bag.
"I swear, Hiruma, you are such a ditz," A voice drawled behind the devil, making the team's eyes bug out at the heinous disrespect of their evil-ish quarterback.
Hiruma turned. "What took you so fucking long, fucking husband?" He asked idly, making the onlookers 'jaws drop with incredulity.
"YOU ARE MARRIED!" The three Huh – brothers howled out disbelievingly, while Kurita just choked on air. Sena fainted – luckily, Suzuna managed to catch him.
Jade eyes looked at the shell – shocked team calmly. "Yes. May I present you – " He yanked the smaller teen forward, possessively wrapping one arm around the teen's waist. "Fucking green eyes, Hiruma-Potter Harry .
Whatever they expected, this wasn't it. Harry was a little smaller than Hiruma, slender, with wild shoulder- length black hair and pale, with some half – healed scars on his face, along with his right forearm being wrapped in bandages. He had on slender silver rectangular glasses that enhanced the vivid color of his emerald green eyes. He was clad similarly to Hiruma, but in faded blue jeans trousers and dark green t-shirt that was a little oversized on his body, even if he seemed to be in good physical condition overall. His feet were clad in old ratty sneakers that had undoubtedly seen better times, but their owner still loved them well enough to loath parting with them.
"Hello," The teen greeted softly, smiling at them gently, if not a little self – consciously. "Is he alright?" he asked, motioned to still unconscious Sena. "Uh – Oh, yeah, he's just in shock!" Suzuna stammered, blushing at the kind smile that was bestowed on her.
"Uh… Shouldn't he look like – like – " Ishimaru tried to say, but he motioned helplessly, as he didn't want to offend their hellish captain.
"Ishimaru, wasn't it?" The field – tracker jumped slightly at the question aimed at him. "Y – Yes! Wait, you know my name?" he blurted out, making Hiruma's… husband chuckle good naturedly. "Yes, of course," Ishimaru blushed at the kind smile aimed at him. "Hiruma told me all about you and the team." Hiruma just growled as he glared at the still dazed Ishimaru. "Don't get fucking ideas, fucking ghost. He's fucking mine, understand!" Dark eyes widening, Ishimaru yelped at the rebuke "Sir, yes, sir!" As he hastily scuttled to the back as to avoid Hiruma's ire.
"But Hiruma, you are too young!" Mamori finally managed enough voice to protest. Something in her heart twanged at Hiruma's half – glare at her. She was… discontent at the knowledge of the demonic quarterback being married to that – that – person. Not that Harry was bad, but –
"Manager – it's Mamori, isn't it?" Harry interrupted before Hiruma could let loose one of his infamous tirades. Blue eyes looked at the green ones. "Yes. Anezaki Mamori." She bowed, but her usual smile was absent from her face.
Harry nodded. "Both of us are emancipated, Anezaki. " He told her calmly, green eyes dark and old looking. Looking at them, Mamori couldn't help but wonder what had happened to this boy to have such sad eyes. "Thank you for your concern – we appreciate it – shut it, Hiruma – "He snapped at Hiruma who wanted to throw in one of his remarks, and had to mutinously hold his piece. "But it was consensual, I can assure you of that." They stared at each other for some moments, before Mamori sighed and nodded. "Oh. Okay. But I didn't know Hiruma had a boyfri– "
"Of course I didn't, fucking manager," Hiruma jumped into the conversation, fangs gleaming. "Oi, is the fucking chibi awake yet?" He clocked a mini Uzi as to wake the running back Hiruma style, making Harry roll his eyes with exasperation. Luckily, Sena was already awake – or semi awake, in that case. Gentle brown eyes widened at the sight of the muzzle of the pistol aimed at him. "Hiii! I'm awake, I'm awake!" He yelped out, jumping up, narrowly dodging the hail of bullets aimed at him.
"He has good reflexes," Harry mentioned idly, making the team edging away from him cautiously.
'Yeah, Hiruma chose the right one – he's truly devil's bride – erm, husband.' The team sweatdropped collectively.
Hiruma just smirked.
Surprisingly, Keroberos was very amiable towards Harry, cementing the Devilbats' belief that Hiruma chose the right person to be married to.
However, they tried not to think about it – it was too traumatic to contemplate.
They just thanked Gods that there would be no little Hirumas running around anytime soon. Truly, the world would be too small for the offspring of the devil and his bride – ahem, husband.
Second half of the match, Deimon Devilbats versus Hakushuu Dinosaurs
There was a dead silence as the control tower of Deimon Devilbats fell on the field.
It was… unthinkable.
Hiruma was always so strong, so self-assured that everyone thought that nothing can destroy him.
But – Gaou….
The damned beast didn't have any compunction about outright breaking Hiruma's right arm, thus disabling him from messing Hakushuu's advancement.
In that moment, Harry's heart practically froze with dread.
It was just like that time - just like when he had to fight on battlefield.
And to lose Hiruma… Losing him like this –
"HIRUMAAAAA!" Kurita's heartbreaking wail cut through the appalled silence.
"There are two wounded persons! Referee, timeout!" Someone's voice rang out through Harry's daze, shaking him out of his memories of blood and death.
Wounded … of course. This was a game.
Just a… game.
Yes, it was just a game. Harry looked at the Mamori and Suzuna numbly – both of the girls were crying uncontrollably, as they hugged each other, as if searching comfort in each other. Duboroku was grim., dark eyes concerned.
Harry stood up.
It was like in some sort of horrible dream.
A nightmare –
His fingers twitched, clenching in a fist.
Verdant eyes narrowed as he looked at the smug captain of Dinosaurs.
This… Was unacceptable.
Marco felt a chill at his back – as if death was staring at him.
Slowly, he turned around to look at the one who was glaring at him so ferociously.
Blazing green eyes stared at him, making him involuntarily flinch and shudder. It was as if he had been judged… and found wanting.
"Well, someone just walked over my grave… I'd say." He muttered to himself, prompting Maria to look at him, and then to the green – eyed man who had slowly walked to the stretcher with Hiruma's body on it.
Almond shaped eyes widened as she recognized the person.
Reiji Marco had just managed to piss off the strongest wizard of his generation.
Potter Harry was not someone Marco would wish to mess with – and attacking Hiruma was just that.
She shook her head disbelievingly. Even if she was a Squib, she knew.
'Marco, you fool…'
Numbly, Mamori sat in the infirmary, looking at Hiruma's prone body, clutching the letter in her hands.
It was hopeless.
Without Hiruma –
A shadow fell over her, and a warm hand squeezed her shoulder.
"Harry-san?" She asked numbly as she lifted her head to look at the teen.
Blue eyes widened at the sight. Harry-san was grim, green eyes dark, and his face set in hard lines that would be more becoming to a weathered soldier.
His posture was stiff. Mamori gulped.
Harry just wasn't an… ordinary teen, and just now, she felt so tiny and insignificant.
"Thank you for being with him, Mamori." He told her quietly, his voice gentle, but with an undercurrent of command that made her straighten her spine. "Go back – they will need you. I have to speak with him."
"But – " Mamori tried to protest, but she was stopped with a stern glare from those viridian eyes.
Mutely, she nodded. "Hai. Take – Take care of him, please." Standing up, she bowed to the emerald-eyed teen, before slowly walking out of the room.
Harry looked at Hiruma, until he heard the click of the doors closing.
Exhaling an exasperated sigh, he threaded one of his hands through that spiky blonde mane, until he came to the tip of one pointed ear.
He pinched it, making Hiruma yowl with pain.
"Fucking greenie! That hurt!" Hiruma snarled, his voice weakened with pain, but still loud enough to make Harry smile with grim relief.
"Hello to you too, bastard," He retorted mildly.
"Now let's see about kicking your stubborn ass back to the field."
Hiruma was speechless.
The situation was grim.
Although Deimon had scored a touchdown, Dinosaurs managed to clamp down on their offense with iron grip. Even if Kurita had recovered, Sena was too inexperienced, and add the return of Kisaragi to Dinousaurs' side…. And things were looking down for Deimon Devilbats.
Sena's shoulders slumped. The pressure was heavy. To bear the weight of being the control tower of the team, even if just for a short time…
It was like carrying the entire world on his shoulders, and he wondered just how Hiruma was doing it so effortlessly.
Should they…. Give up?
"Kekeke, fucking shrimp… What are you idiots doing, straighten up! Or are you going to shit up right in the middle of the field?" The Hiruma-like voice asked, making Sena automatically stiffen his spine and flinch in expectation of some good hail of bullets.
"I - I'm not!" He squeaked out –
"That…. Voice…" Kurita whispered out disbelievingly.
"It can't … be…!" The chubby lineman choked out, prompting all eyes to turn to the origin of that demonic – sounding voice.
He… Was here.
Sena's heart skipped a heartbeat with relief.
"Hiruma-san!" He yelped out happily, beaming at his captain, dazed with happiness and relief.
"You… Came… Back!" Monkey, Huh-brother number one and idiot managed to stutter out.
"Hirumaaaaa!" Kurita just bawled out happily.
The lowered blonde head arose, making the previously happy team jump back with fear.
"KYAAAAA!" Kurita screeched a high-pitched, girly shriek, skidding back with surprising agility.
Hiruma's face was covered with rivulets of blood – but surprisingly, Harry was oddly calm about it.
Hiruma staggered on the field, turning to the spooked out Dinosaurs, his grin widening to terrifying proportions.
He pointed to them, making them cringe. "Kekeke, cry tears of joy…. Because I came back one millimeter before I reached Hell, fucking caveman."
… Something in his voice made the Devilbats cringe.
Hiruma was just joking… wasn't he?"
Something about Harry's smirk indicated he wasn't.
After the shenanigans with ketchup, Hiruma looked at the table.
"…A 21-points difference, huh… You hung in there well, you fucking brats." Hiruma's lips widened into his signature devilish grin, making Sena look up hopefully, and raising the spirits of the other team members.
The Devilbats puffed up with pride, making Harry smile gently with amusement at their devotion to his devilish husband.
The match finished ended with totally unbelievable result – Deimon had won with 43 against 42. Just one point, but it was enough for Devilbats to advance into the finale of Christmas Bowl. It was the greatest upset in the history of middle schoolers' American Football in Japan.
And not only that… Sena had boldly announced they would win against the reigning champions of Kantou area, Teikoku Alexanders, themselves.
Talk about being ambitious….
But right now, Hiruma was content. His arm still throbbed with pain – whatever voodoo Harry had done, didn't take away the pain, although it wasn't in such a searing agony it had been before. In addition, his hand would heal faster, and as such, he would have a nice surprise for those Teikoku bastards just in time.
Smiling, he nuzzled the neck of his husband. After the party, they had headed back to their flat, walking in the dark of the night silently.
When they had arrived back in Japan, Hiruma had immediately set on enrolling Harry into Deimon, and as luck would have it, Harry was in the same class with him. Much to Harry's disgruntlement, he became pretty well known as one of the rare ones that dared to defy Hiruma and get away with it with his skin, reputation and mind intact. The only other one was Anezaki Mamori. To Hiruma's disgruntlement, the fucking students – except his fucking team didn't get a memo that Harry was taken – and rather permanently too, as evidenced by love letters and proposals for dates.
It didn't matter if Harry politely rejected or outright rebuffed them. Even if Sena tried to help – but because he was so timid, people rarely took the time to listen to him seriously…. And in turn, they suffered the consequences that ranged from physical to mental scars, courtesy of Hiruma and Keroberos. The dog was surprisingly loyal to Harry, and he chased off anyone who tried to smooch up to his master's beta.
Harry tried to politely defuse the situation, explaining that he was married, but that didn't help. And one day, Hiruma's ire hit the roof.
One announcement through school radio with some well placed… helpful suggestions what would happen to blabbermouths – that was mortifying occurrence which made Harry embarrassed and happy at the same time. It was reassuring to know Hiruma would always have his back, even if his methods were a little… unconventional. And Hiruma definitely loved his reward.
But back to the present. At that match with Hakushuu, Hiruma definitely thought they were doomed – even with the fucking chibi playing the second control tower, there was little possibility of them besting the fucking ancient relics as it were.
However, Harry proved to be a lifesaver. He had dosed Hiruma with some kind of medicine that made Hiruma splutter – yuck, his taste buds were shot to Hell for eternity – but the … medicine proved to be as efficient as it was disgusting.
It repaired the fractured femur bone, even if Harry warned him not to over exert the throwing hand too much, but it was better than nothing. He definitely totally spooked the fucking eyelashes with his return to the field. Hiruma still grinned at the memory of the fucking eyelashes' dumbfounded face when he saw him back at the field.
"Hey." Green eyes looked at him when Harry heard his inquiry. "What was this shit with the medicine?" Hiruma asked casually, but eyeing Harry all the same.
Harry shrugged. "It's called potion, and it's a common thing in healing for my folk. But because they are too paranoid, and the recipe calls for some very… unorthodox ingredients, it was not published in medicine circles. " Nodding, Hiruma hummed thoughtfully. He knew that there was something that Harry was not telling him, but well… "Oh? Which ones?" He asked curiously, jade eyes glinting in artificial light.
Harry grimaced. "You really don't want to know – trust me on that." Hiruma blinked. Was Harry's skin turning green? Er, greenish? "Well... thanks anyway." He murmured quietly, inwardly praying he never would need that disgusting concoction again. Chuckling, Harry nodded, catching Hiruma's hand and entwining their fingers together.
Hiruma's mouth twitched slightly in a smug smirk as he felt the warmth of that slender-work roughened palm in his own hand.
"So. Will the team be ready for their big time?" Harry asked as he looked at the city lights in the distance. There were no stars to see, but city itself reminded the green-eyed wizard of the small galaxy, what with their blinking lights and different colors.
Tomorrow was bound to be cold, he mused absently as he shivered, making Hiruma embrace him protectively over the shoulders.
A row of white pointy teeth glinted in the semi-darkness. "Hell, yeah. We will fucking kill 'em".
Nodding, Harry chuckled with agreement.
They looked at each other, and inhaled the breath, devilish smiles on their faces.
"YA – HA!"
The Devilbats heard the war cry of their hellish commanders echoing in the distance, and involuntarily shivered with dread.
For Hiruma and Harry, the Las Vegas wedding may have been a match - mish-mashed as it may have been – made in heaven, but the Deimon Devilbats team knew the terrible, terrible truth.
And they pitied the Teikoku bastards.
Hiruma Youichi, the Hell Commander and his husband, Hiruma-Potter Harry, the Bonesetter…
…. Were Match Made In Hell.