May Flowers

Tsuna pressed Takeshi back against the bed, settling over him, and nodded to himself at Takeshi’s low sigh.

It was easier, he thought, to give Gokudera what he needed. Gokudera was far more straightforward. When Yamamoto came to him Tsuna had to look harder and make guesses.

Sometimes Yamamoto just sat quietly at his feet for an evening. Sometimes he wanted to hold Tsuna, to shelter and shield him, and Tsuna rested against his chest until his arms relaxed and loosened. Sometimes he wanted to touch, slow and gentle, and kissed Tsuna’s fingers softly until Tsuna said yes.

And sometimes he needed to not be the protector, for a while.

Tsuna kissed Takeshi’s palms, one after the other and pressed his hands down gently, firmly against the bed, watching Takeshi’s eyes fall half closed, his lips part on a quick breath.

"It’s all right," Tsuna told him, softly.

Takeshi smiled up at him, sweet and rueful, relaxing under his hands. "Yeah."

Tsuna stroked down Takeshi’s arms, over his bare chest, kneading the hard muscle there, pleased as Takeshi sighed more deeply and let his hands lie against the sheets, fingers uncurling loosely. It was a warm feeling, that Takeshi could relax under his hands. Tsuna dipped his fingers in the jar on his bedside table, slicking them, and reached down to press between Takeshi’s cheeks and rub over and over his entrance in slow, hard circles.

Takeshi moaned at that, letting his legs fall open.

"There," Tsuna murmured as taut muscle unwound under his touch. "It’s all right, Takeshi. Just feel." He could feel the soft shudder that ran through Takeshi’s body as his fingers pressed in deep.

"Oh… yes." Takeshi’s voice was husky now, eyes dark as he looked up at Tsuna under lowered lids. "Boss…"

Tsuna’s mouth quirked and he leaned down to take Takeshi’s mouth and kiss him slow and thorough. "Yes."

It always meant something particular when Takeshi called him that. Tonight, at least, it was easy to figure out what.

He reached for more lube to stroke over his cock, catching a breath at the coolness of it; at least he didn’t blush over it any more. Not when he was concentrating on someone else. He slid his palms down Takeshi’s thighs, easy but not lightly, pressing them wider. Takeshi’s breath was coming fast now, as Tsuna spread him out against the sheets.

"Boss… please."

"Shh." Tsuna leaned in to kiss him again and Takeshi shivered under his hands. "It’s okay. I’ve got you," Tsuna murmured.

Takeshi laughed, low and breathless. "Yeah." And then he moaned, head dropping back to bare the arch of his throat, as Tsuna pushed into him.

Tsuna’s own breath came in short bursts as he slid into the tight heat of Takeshi’s body and pleasure curled through him. He rode the edge of it and watched Takeshi carefully, hips flexing slowly. The husky sounds Takeshi made guided him, drew him on until he was fucking Takeshi hard and steady, heat curling up his spine at the way Takeshi moaned. He leaned in for a sharper angle and when Takeshi shuddered and gasped, he smiled, drew back, thrust harder.

"Ahh!"

Takeshi’s hands were clenched again and Tsuna reached up to grip his wrists, holding him down firmly. "Let go," he ordered, low and even and sure. "I have you."

That was the last thing it took and Takeshi cried out, wordless, hips jerking up as Tsuna drove into him hard and fast. His body tightened fiercely and Tsuna hissed through his teeth, hanging on until Takeshi was still, under him, and he could let himself go, let heat rush through him like a flood and leave him draped over Takeshi, panting.

Takeshi was lax under his hands, eyes dark and calm.

Tsuna smiled.

"Stay there," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Takeshi’s forehead, and slipped out of bed to fetch a washcloth.

Takeshi was pliant as Tsuna cleaned them up, but his hands were always stroking lightly over any part of Tsuna he could reach; Tsuna settled back down with him as soon as he’d tossed the cloth in the hamper and pressed close. "It’s all right," he repeated, gently.

"I know." Takeshi lifted Tsuna’s hand and kissed his fingers. "Boss."

"Yes," Tsuna promised. "I’m here." He hesitated for a breath and added, "And you’re mine."

The last tension unwound from Takeshi’s body and he smiled.

Tsuna stroked Takeshi’s hair as they lay together. He still wondered, sometimes, if it had been right to entangle people like Yamamoto, like Ryouhei, in the world of the mafia. But he had to admit, that world neatly enfolded Yamamoto’s mix of gentleness and violence.

Most of the time.

If it was his reassurance that his people needed, for those moments when it didn’t, Tsuna would certainly give it.

Takeshi’s breathing evened into sleep and Tsuna held him closer, satisfied.

End