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Hayato takes a lot of pride in his work, and ever since they’ve been properly invested there’s been a clear difference in him, his aura, even the way he walked. He pats down the sides of his cardigan, making sure they are perfectly flat around his body, and undoes one of the two buttons at the waist, he presses down on the door handle and walks out. He makes haste through the various hallways of the castle as he knows he’s been summoned by him, and he wouldn’t forgive himself for making him wait any longer than necessary. Guards patrolling the hallways stop to bow as he passes by, a hand pressed on their chest on the left side, atop their heart, a sign of respect. He’s just turned 20, yet here he had men two or even three times his age bowing before him. Of course, Hayato thought, he was nothing beyond the right hand of the Vongola Boss, he cared not for how others treat him.
It’s hard to pass by the doors to Decimo’s office and not notice them. Fourth floor, directly in front of the main stairs, a set of gigantic doors, going up to the ceiling and encrusted with the golden mark of the Vongola Family on dark cedarwood, polished to perfection and adorned with precious stones above the bullet in the center. Hayato stills the storm in his heart and takes a moment to calm his breath. It’s been a few days since he’s been called…and it’s no surprise, they are all so busy it’s been hard to find time for anything other than their duties, and yet he’s still human. He lingers, he longs, he misses. Nonetheless, he’s been summoned. He knocks on the door three times and declares himself, “Tenth, it’s me,” he says, trying to sound less excited than he is. “Come in,” sounds back Sawada Tsunayoshi, his Boss.
Tsunayoshi has had it the worst out of all of them, naturally. Of course, Hayato would never let him do everything by himself, neither would the others. That being said there were a few things that only the boss could do, and ever since the Inheritance and them moving in here, Tsunayoshi has been keeping the complaining to a minimum, instead studying dutifully under the watchful gazes of Reborn and Timoteo. Now, it was quite late at night and his boss was hacking at the paperwork all by himself in his huge, lonely office. “Gokudera-kun,” Tsunayoshi smiles when he sees him, putting his papers down immediately and leaning back into his chair. “Sorry to call so late, you must have been tired,” he motions with his hand forward towards the seat across his office. Hayato sits. “Not at all, please call me whenever you like, you know I’m always…Boss, you look tired,” he can’t help saying, leaning forward, his hands itching to reach out and soothe the dark circles under his bel—his boss’ eyes. “Maybe, we can do this tomorrow? Together? I know you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a while…” His eyes drop on the stack of papers before him momentarily, the little flaming seal at the top and Tsuna’s recognizable signature at the bottom and sighs. “Maybe you’re right,” Decimo responds with a sigh of his own, leaning his head back a bit more and closing his eyes. “I actually just called you here to…I don’t know, talk. About stuff. Normal stuff preferably,” he scratches at the back of his head a bit awkwardly and opens his eyes as if apologizing for disturbing his friend with something so trivial through his gaze. Hayato wants to laugh.
At first, he doesn’t respond. He reaches discreetly into the pocket of his slacks and fishes his lighter. He brings it up and out and lights the candles on the desk before turning off the two lamps on either side. Decimo throws him a questioning look to which he responds with only a smile and stands, going back to the impressive windows behind the office and pulling the curtains apart, letting the gentle moonlight come through. The windowsill is wide and has cushions made out of expensive material all over it. Hayato sits down and pats the spot next to his. Tsuna chuckles, reaching for his suit jacket and takes it off, throwing it over the back of his chair and follows along, discarding his shoes in the process as well and climbing up next to his guardian. They sit in silence like that for a little while, Tsunayoshi staring out the window at the moon, Hayato spinning the lighter in his fingers, trying to think of something to say that doesn’t have to do with their busy lives. He notices his boss’ intense stare and follows it upwards, towards the sky. He smiles. “How’s your Italian these days, Boss?” he huffs and reaches for the handle on the window to crack it open a bit. He reaches inside his other pocket for his smokes and takes them out since he’s been told before it’s ok to do it here as long as he opens the window. The Storm Guardian turns himself to face his boss, one leg coming up on the cushions, but he makes sure he’s giving Tsunayoshi all the space he needs. “Hmm…” Tsunayoshi muses, closing his eyes, and Hayato can’t help but notice just how beautiful he looks under the moonlight. He lights his cigarette.
“La Luna…” Tsuna says, pointing his finger up to the sky. Hayato’s fingers twitch on his cigarette before he takes a long drag and he knows his heart skipped a beat but he doesn’t let it bother him. “It’s really pretty, yeah,” he agrees and looks out the window even though he knows Tsunayoshi was looking at him now. “I think this is what I like about Italy the best, it’s so…idyllic, romantic even. I like to go on walks in the gardens and smell the flowers sometimes, or like this, I like staring out the window sometimes,” Hayato nods his head in agreement, “Even within the mafia, I always thought the rhythm of life is really…slow, I guess. You can really take your time. Remember that word, siesta? That’s why you won’t have anyone to come bother you midday,” he chuckles, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke as much as possible towards the crack in the window. “You smoke a lot these days,” Decimo points out, bringing his knees towards his chest as much as those restrictive pants allowed. Hayato raises his eyebrows and looks at the cigarette in between his fingers. “Huh, I guess I do,” he says, “You know me so well,” he adds. “I hope it’s not because a lot of stress,” his boss chuckles. He chuckles so pretty, as pretty as all the times before and Hayato loves it. “Nah, I don’t fall victim to stress that easily, but it makes me focus better sometimes. I try to be mindful about it, but I guess there’s a lot of work lately, huh?”
“Show me how to do it?” Sawada Tsunayoshi asks and Hayato always says there’s nothing the boss could pull that would surprise me, and yet…here was his boss, his hand outstretched and touching his wrist, pulling gently, big eyes locked on him, tired and beautiful, under the fucking moonlight. “U—Um…I mean…It’s not…good for your health and…and…as your right-hand man I should…I mean you’re the Boss…” Thankfully, Hayato can still get flustered like a schoolboy after 20 years old. Only with him, though. Only the boss.
“You’re right, I’m the boss,” Tsunayoshi smiles something mischievous and pulls at Hayato’s wrist a little more. The Storm maneuvers the cigarette around, holding the end between his pointer and middle fingers and offers it. To the Boss. “It’s not really pleasant the first time…you just have to imagine taking a deep breath in your chest, but don’t overdo it, just until you feel like you’re gonna cough.” Tsunayoshi does cough, but Hayato is distracted by the knowledge that he and his Boss have shared the same cigarette. He greedily brings back the cigarette into his own mouth and inhales, one hand soothing Decimo’s back as he’s working through the coughing fit. “Ugh, it really sucks,” Tsunayoshi decides, wiping his tears away. Hayato, you’re a bad, bad man. “How do you even do that,” Hayato smiles fondly, getting up to discard his cigarette into the ashtray on the boss’ desk which is there even though he doesn’t smoke. “Hayato,” Tsunayoshi calls when Hayato’s back is still turned to him and the Guardian freezes in place. He’s never been called that by…by him. “Y—Yes,” he answers shakily, turning to face Decimo. “Come here,” Tsunayoshi asks, hiding half his face behind his knees, but Hayato couldn’t see anything even if he wanted to, there was little lighting to notice fine details, but if he could see, he would see the blush on the apple of his boss’ cheeks. And maybe if he had known himself better, he would know that he was in a similar disposition.
He stands before his boss. His hands are clammy and he wipes them down on his pants, but it doesn’t help, “Not like that, silly. Closer.” Hayato doesn’t understand it himself really, it just happens. He falls on his knees so naturally it’s like second nature and he looks up, expecting. Tsunayoshi chuckles again with that pretty voice and he lets his feet dangle off the windowsill. “Hayato, you’re always too quick to do that,” he murmurs, almost quietly enough that he’s inaudible. The Guardian was going to respond, but how could he when he feels the gentle graze of shy fingers against his left cheek, and down his jaw? How could he say anything when he’s got shivers running up and down his spine? How could he even think of an appropriate response, seeing his boss lean over him, his eyes betraying nothing but calm and collectedness when all Hayato wanted to do was scream and yet here he was, on his knees, worshipping at the only altar he’s known. Both of Tsunayoshi’s palms are on his face now. “Decimo,” he pleads, his eyes closing. And then it just happens. Just like that. Hayato has kissed before, people, who knows who they are. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care, because he’s only really been kissed now, this very moment.
It tastes like cigarettes, unsurprisingly. Tsunayoshi gives him lips and tongue and breaths and just there, in the end, a strangled moan. Whose? Who knows. Hayato’s hands eventually find their way on his boss’ thighs, not quite gripping, but not sitting idly either. “Stand up,” his boss orders at some point, in between two breaths and he does just that, dragging Tsunayoshi along, or being pushed by him, whichever it is, he is maneuvered towards the chair and he sits on it. How very taboo. It’s even more taboo when the rightful owner of the throne climbs into his lap and starts kissing him again. Hayato is fairly convinced at this point that he’s dreaming, a dream he may have had one too many times. But since this is all a dream he willfully indulges in it. Tsunayoshi pleads only in the language of his mouth moving against Hayato’s, and Hayato knows only to give, and give he does. “What can I do for you, mio capo?” He asks breathless, his mouth moving towards Tsunayoshi’s exposed neck and he lingers there, feeling the pulse – quite a rapid one he might add, proudly. The boss’ head leans forward into the crook of his neck and he loops his arms around shoulders broader than his own. “Let’s go to my room?” he asks as though Hayato would ever say no, as if Hayato could ever say no. Especially now. Especially like this. The Guardian keeps on mouthing at the skin laid before him, over the neck, and behind the ear to that place that makes Tsunayoshi arch into his grasp. “A—And that’s an order,” Tsuna adds, clutching harder into Hayato’s shirt.
Hayato is a mess. He can barely think of the words that would make a coherent sentence so instead, he nods. He nods very enthusiastically. Tsunayoshi halts and backs up, standing back on his feet and regaining his composure alarmingly fast. He blows out the candles on his desk which ended up being fairly useless and turns back to his Hayato. He smirks down at him and slides a sneaky finger underneath his jaw to make him look up. Hayato almost falls to his knees again. Instead, he lets himself lean into the finger and follows it almost like a leash. Tsunayoshi has him stand up before sneaking a warm hand into his own, much colder ones. “Come,” he urges and Hayato follows, sneakily, through the corridors and on the stairs leading to the last floor and the master bedroom where Hayato had been only a couple of times. Tsunayoshi drags him in and closes the door and Hayato ponders urging his Decimo to rest since he was so tired earlier, but ultimately he decides…fuck it.