A heavenly stench.

This was written for the word prompt "scent" over at the KHR Fic Meme, and the title is taken from the 31 Days theme for May 4, 2007. Special thanks to Nikki for doing the REAL archiving for all of us~

He smells anger at first, with the vague remnant of soap and other clean things in Hibari's hair, along the edge of the prefect's face and a little further down, from his neck to his chest. The boy is still thrashing about, still snarling in his ear, still fighting against the very real blindfold that Mukuro has fastened about his eyes, and the very real ropes that Mukuro has used to bind his wrists together and secure him to the headboard of his broken bed. Mukuro chuckles, licks the beads of sweat along Hibari's hairline or down in the hollow of his neck. He nuzzles the boy with his nose, nips at that delicate curve of his ear. When Hibari struggles again, Mukuro spins an illusion of living vines winding them tight about Hibari's body, twined, with loving care, about the boy's neck.

He smells hate and the beginnings of fear later, after his illusions have done their work and Hibari's gasping for air, choked by the lack of sight, the vines around his neck and the need for release – the prefect has stopped thrashing and started trembling, both from pleasure and the attempt not to feel any pleasure at all. His body, though, is honest, so painfully honest. Mukuro wonders if it was Dino Cavallone who made the boy like this. The Mist Guardian removes his gloves and begins to run his hands up and down Hibari's body, with deliberate slowness – the calluses he bears from gripping his trident all his life make for an interesting contrast against the startling smoothness of Hibari's skin, although he's sure that the boy must feel it more than he does. Being robbed of one's sight makes one so vulnerable to tactile stress.

The fear is growing stronger. Mukuro stops at Hibari's hips, holding him down as he breathes over the boy's exposed sex. Hibari jerks in his grip, but it only brings him closer to what he's waited, so patiently, to taste. He licks. Hibari whimpers. The vines tighten.

He smells need and defeat during the act, when he's fully sheathed inside of Hibari and working at a relentless pace. He worked the boy up then fucked him without finishing him off – Mukuro has not had his fill yet, and he feels that it is unjust, allowing his toy to enjoy itself before he does. He cums inside the boy as he kisses him, mixing semen and saliva in two different places in the same vessel. He has always wondered how much of himself would he have to mix inside of Hibari for the boy to want nothing else but him.

He smells tears in the aftermath, when he's risen from the bed and Hibari is still bound in place, shuddering, shaking, silent. Mukuro bends low again, just once, to lap up the salt from the boy's cheeks. He leaves the room, carrying a trace of Hibari on his skin.