Gunshot Kisses

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By sexypancake

Okay, I want to give a HUGE apology to everyone who's read my stuff and hasn't seen or heard from me in over ONE YEAR! Good heavens, what in the world have I been doing? Well, the simplest answers are always the more redundant. I've been going to Uni and living my life. Don't worry though, I've been writing on the side.

And while there's a good chance that what I've been writing isn't what people have been waiting for *cough*Bitten*cough*, I want to reassure you that I won't loose interest in that fic. I know what I'm planning to do with it, I've just sort of lost my 18/27 muse for a while. Doesn't that ever happen to you guys, where you OTP suddenly looks a lot less interesting in light of other gorgeous crack pairings? Well anyway, this is the first chapter of I'm not sure how many.

WARNING: There will be heavy smut, yaoi, gender-bending, and crack. If you're offended by any of these then please click the 'back' button. If not, then I hope you enjoy!

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Another quick note. The reason this story has been moved to the 8018 section is because two of four of these small pieces are of that couple. The character pairings will change each chapter, so I'll likely change the labeling each time too.

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01. Ryo/59

He smells of sweat and warm grass and a musk that is simply and purely his alone. Every time Gokudera breathes in this heady scent against the white-haired male's neck, he tries to memorize it, to place a name to everything that is Sasagawa Ryohei. He never succeeds, and so he always comes back for more.

The white-haired man doesn't mind. In fact he adores the attention. Gokudera would sooner put the boxer through a wall than admit the same, that he enjoys spending time with the older man. But he is begrudgingly content in their current arrangement.

Ryohei had just come back from a solo reconnaissance mission, not his specialty because of his loud personality, but something that needed to be taken care of regardless. Gokudera was lightly dozing in the lightning guardian's suite when he returns, not waiting up for the idiot of course, he just didn't feel like walking all the way down the hall to his own room. Ryohei, in a rare moment of diplomacy, chooses not to argue with this point.

As it is, when he returns and delightedly leans over his bed to affectionately nuzzle Gokudera's cheek, the drowsy male is too far gone to do more than half-heartedly return the gesture, instead choosing to inhale the other man's scent when Ryohei kisses his neck.

Gokudera's eyes open for the first time since the boxer came into the room, staring up at the white-haired idiot he's been sleeping with for the last half a year, and sits up without warning, nearly knocking heads with the other man and sending him to the floor.

"Woah woah! What's up?" Ryohei exclaims, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace. Gokudera is still staring at him, his brow drawn down and his eyes staring at something beyond Ryohei's confused face. Finally, after almost a full minute of internal debate, much longer than it should have taken him considering how familiar he was with the topic, Gokudera slid to his feat and grabbed Ryohei by the lapels of his suit.

"You! Why do you smell like gunpowder? Were you in a fight?" He demands. The smell of ozone and gunpowder was so familiar to him that it had taken him an embarrassingly long minute to realize that it wasn't coming from himself, but instead the now-frowning idiot who most certainly never touched Gokudera's weapon of choice, and rarely drew his own personal gun unless it was a matter of life or death. Ryohei was a physical fighter, something that didn't disadvantage him in a firefight like one might think. Still, it didn't mean that he always got away unscathed.

"I thought that your mission was strictly information retrieval! What the hell happened?" Gokudera growled lowly, feeling angrier than he probably should have, most likely because of who had been shot at instead of the fact that anyone had been shot at at all. Not that he would ever actually admit this of course.

"Hey now, Hayato, calm down. It's no big deal. I've already put it all in my report to Sawada." Ryohei put a comforting hand on Gokudera's shoulder, yet another rare moment of calm from the normally loud man. Gokudera shook his hand off, grumbling in irritation under his breath and his flopped back into the bed, his back to Ryohei. Part of him was a little miffed that the other man used his given name so easily, while another was mightily irritated with himself for showing so much blatant concern. He blamed it on still being half asleep.

Ryohei sighed tiredly and went into the connected bathroom to shower. His silence was another sign of his exhaustion, unwilling to argue with Gokudera like he usually enjoyed. He just wanted to wash the toxic smell of gunpowder out of his hair and off his skin before going to sleep. His suit could be dry-cleaned in the morning.

Ten minutes later, the white-haired man stumbled out of the steamy bathroom, gasping a little at the cooler temperature of the bedroom, before turning off the bedside lamp and sliding into bed behind Gokudera. Cautiously, he spooned the bomber's backside, running calloused fingers down the other's thin stomach. He smiled wryly into the other's hair. He needed to get the younger male to the gym more. He was too skinny without enough muscle mass to back it up. That's what you got though when you smoked a pack a day and skipped meals in between, he supposed. He would work on breaking those habits too.

Gokudera suddenly rolled over and tilted his face up until his head was cradled under Ryohei's jaw. Taking in a deep breath, the gray-haired male's features softened as the familiar warm fragrances he knew greeted him. Though gunpowder was something he knew like the back of his hand, it just simply wouldn't do for the other man to smell like it too. Ryohei smiled brightly and ran his hands down Gokudera's back soothingly. Within minutes, they were both blissfully asleep.

02. 8018

"I can't believe we're actually doing his." Yamamoto laughed nervously as they entered the small, brightly lit parlor. There was a slight smell of antiseptic in the air that caused Hibari to wrinkle his nose, his first reaction since following Yamamoto into the piercing shop. The taller male shot his silent, glowering boyfriend another quick grin before a man in his late twenties came around the counter to greet the two teens. The older man had a smooth, attractive face, complimented by the single brow piercing above his left eye. His ears were also pierced surprisingly light, with only two small studs in each ear.

Hibari took all of this in with dark, calculating eyes while Yamamoto was happily swept into conversation by the shop owner. If he didn't know better, he would have almost thought that the two were flirting with each other. As it was, however, he resigned himself to the fact that it was the younger man's natural oblivious nature to casually flirt with everything that breathed.

"And so I was thinking of getting my nipple pierced." Yamamoto was saying with nervous anticipation, shooting Hibari another look, as if searching for support. The silent teen merely shifted his weight slightly in the baseball player's direction, subtly staking his claim as he pinned the man who was about to put his hands all over his boyfriend with a dead stare. The store owned blinked a little, a light sweat appearing to break out on his forehead as he quickly motioned Yamamoto to follow him into a back room where the piercing would take place.

Hibari followed without asking permission, whether it was allowed for him to be in the room wasn't important, as he would obviously be present regardless. Yamamoto was the epitome of nervous happiness as he unhesitantly pulled off his shirt and sat back on the chair and waited. As much as Hibari would have liked nothing better than to knock the older man out when he put his ugly hands on the athlete's firm, tanned flesh, he resisted the urge and even made an effort to curve his oppressive aura. It wouldn't do for the fool to accidently injure Yamamoto because Hibari's dark presence distracted him too badly.

Yamamoto met his eyes above the piercer's shoulder, speaking with startling clarity without words that he knew exactly what was going through Hibari's head. It was obvious that he was enjoying the older teen's irritation. Hibari vowed then to punish him later for his nerve.

"Okay, you're going to feel a pinch, but it'll be over before you know it. Alright? Here we go." The shop keeper was saying in a soothing, practiced tone used to keep antsy clients calm. Yamamoto didn't even glance at the man, or at the hands setting up the needle that was about to pierce his flesh. Hibari's eyes darkened as he continued to hold his stare, unconsciously licking his lips when Yamamoto's nipples hardened in the chilly room.

Yamamoto replied by licking his own lips with a quick, sexy smirk. A few seconds later, his face suddenly shuttered when the piercer got to work. Yamamoto gasped loudly, a throaty sound that went straight to Hibari's groin, his eyes still never leaving the other male's. In that instant, the heavy atmosphere of the room intensified to the point of drowning as the shop owner quickly finished putting the small silver bar in Yamamoto's nipple and ran an alcohol swab quickly over the flesh.

"When you're ready, you can come out to the front and I'll ring you up." He said shakily, standing up and nearly running out of the room. Hibari didn't even wait for the door to close before he straddled the chair Yamamoto was sitting in and cradled either side of the teen's head, bringing their lips a hair's breath apart.

"I must say, my opinion of this idea of yours has changed exponentially in the last few minutes." He caught Yamamoto's bottom lip between his teeth as one hand trailed down his chin, his neck, and then slowly around the red and swollen area of the newly pierced nipple. "In fact," he whispered, eyes glinting in the light, "I think we should do this again," he lowered his head, still holding the younger man's eyes, and peeked his pink tongue out slowly to tease gently over the almost painfully sensitive-flesh. "we should do it again, very soon."

Yamamoto gasped sharply, hands going to Hibari's shoulders, whether to push away or pull closer he wasn't sure. As it was, Hibari's sense of reason returned once he had satisfied his desire to drive Yamamoto a little wild before he gave him his real punishment later that evening.

"You're evil," Yamamoto breathed when Hibari sat back up and picked up the other's shirt, helping his slip it over his head without irritating his chest too much. He would have loved to play more, but even he knew the difference between pleasurable pain and not.

"You're only just realizing this now?" Hibari smirked back, hooking a finger into one of the belt loops of Yamamoto's jeans. With a seductive, heavy look, he pulled the taller male out of the room. The sooner they got home the quicker the punishment could begin.

03. Sq/80

There are slim, muscular thighs on either side of his hips, straddling his lap as happy as you please, and yet Squalo can't really find it in himself to complain when those enticing thighs tense as the teen they're attached to arches against Squalo's bigger frame. Dazed hazel eyes roll back into the younger man's head when sharp teeth nibble into his neck, and long silver hair spills over his shoulder to cloak the left side of their bodies.

If there's one thing that Squalo can be grateful for, it's that the brat is finally legal. He may have had a larger head-count under his belt than most assassins three times his age, plus he had done tons of questionable things before he was even technically old enough to drink, but jailbait was just a little too crass for his tastes. Especially when the objects of his begrudging lust, turned fevered desire, turned absolute obsession was an airheaded Japanese male who insisted on waiting until he was eighteen and told his father that he was gay before taking the next step with Squalo. What was worse was that the freaking brat wanted to get his father's approval of his lifestyle choice before he would be unconditionally willing to slide between the sheets with the long-haired swordsman.

"A-ahg! Th-that's so good, Squalo!" Yamamoto gasped deliriously. Never let it be said, however, that the brat didn't at least boost one's ego. He was so easy to please in everyday life, so why should it be any different during sex. Squalo grinned arrogantly and tipped the dark-haired teen back, spilling him onto the white cotton sheets. Yamamoto let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden move, before moaning wantonly when Squalo accidently slipped out of him. He spread his legs wide, inviting the older man to reenter him. His dark eyes were half-lidded against Squalo's, and he licked his swollen lips around heavy, breathy pants.

"You like that, brat?" Squalo smirked as he guided his glistening hard member back into Yamamoto's willing body. The teenager arched deliriously as he was entered, his spine curving and his legs tensing in such a sinfully delicious way that a moan was forced past Squalo's lips at the sight. Yamamoto gasped loudly for a few seconds as a slow rhythm was started up again, and finally, he met Squalo's eyes. Through broken pants, he stuttered.

"Could. . . could be better, ah-!" He gasped, eyes rolling back into his skull as Squalo took immediate offense to his statement and sought to punish the cheeky brat without remorse.

"So," Squalo panted, sliding his arms beneath Yamamoto's bent knees and raising his legs higher to secure a better position and sharper angle. "You think you can take more?" He asked slyly, upping his pace until a shimmering sheen of sweat appeared on Yamamoto's skin. The brat was practically glowing, his face lost in a rainstorm of pleasure that only Squalo could release him from. Yamamoto's cries were rising in pitch and were coming out faster the more Squalo pounded that special little spot inside of him that sent sparks across his vision. Without warning, Yamamoto pitched to the side, attempting to put some distance between himself and the white-haired man in order to lessen some of the blinding pleasure. Growling at the lost expression on the other man's face, Squalo caught him mid motion, pinning him on his side as he straddled Yamamoto's left leg and brought his right one to his shoulder.

"Ah! N-no!" Yamamoto cried out, thrashing beneath him and grabbing the pillow above his head with both hands, the only anchor he could find in this embarrassingly effective position. Pleasure was burning through his body, unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and he knew without a doubt that it wouldn't last for much longer.

For his part, Squalo couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so god-damned aroused while taking someone to his bed. He's been so busy the last couple of years that bed-partners were few and far in between. And to think that this idiot Japanese kid was causing uncontrollable shivers to run down his spine, his tight tight heat taking him in like a molten furnace. He'd never felt so pleased with sex in his entire life. And though he would never admit it out loud, maybe not even to himself, he's never felt as attracted to any of his bed-partners as he did to Yamamoto at the moment the other male came.

Letting out a loud, shuddering cry, Yamamoto arched against Squalo, his mouth falling open and his saliva-slick lips spread wide for the older man's delight as he pulled the teen back onto his lap to swallow his undulating cries. A full minute later, filled with the sound of flesh smacking against flesh and Yamamoto's prolonged whimpers of pleasured agony, Squalo finally found his release, biting the dark teen's shoulder with sharp teeth. Yamamoto's strangled gasp merely increased his moment of pleasure, and with a groan of his own, Squalo's own orgasm washed over him like a tsunami without pause.

The sound of their sharp, panting breaths was the only thing either heard for the next several minutes as they tried to control their breathing and reacquaint their brains with logic and reason. Yamamoto (much to Squalo's irritation) was the first to sit up, a sunny, happy as you please smile on his face. Squalo huffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance when the teen leaned over him and lightly kissed his lips. Squalo allowed him a few minutes of leisurely kisses before he rolled them over so that the brat was once again beneath him. Smiling up at him, Yamamoto wound his arms around Squalo's neck and pulled himself up to whisper in the swordsman's ear.

"Next time, I get to top." He nearly giggled. Squalo cursed his idiot face and shoved him into the pillows.

04. 18/Fem!80

It was strange, and incredibly different having a girlfriend. Hibari realized this belatedly, and rather alarmingly when he opened his locker one afternoon, his private, never-to-be-touched-by-another-human-being personal space, and found an absurd, sunny yellow cupcake sitting on top of his notebooks.

Hibari stared in dawning horror at the yellow abomination for several stunned seconds, then slammed the locker door shut, immediately forgetting what he had been looking for in the first place in light of the new situation at hand. He needed to take care of this before things got out of control. Stomping down the school hallway like an angel of wrath, Hibari slammed open a classroom door, scaring the students inside half to death.

"H-H-Hibar-san!" One forgettable student shrieked. Hibari ignored him and instead spoke out loud.

"Where is Yamamoto Takeshi?" He demanded. There were a few seconds of stunned silence, before several girls standing near the windows burst into worried whispers, sending frightened looks his way. Hibari's lips thinned in irritation, prompting one girl to step forward despite the others trying to hold her back.

"She's outside. At the baseball field. Class B is having a game right now so-" She was cut off as Hibari abruptly turned on his heel and marched right back out of the room. He paid no heed to her frustrated 'moe' and went determinedly in the direction she'd said.

Even from several hundred feet away, Hibari could tell a game was in progress from the yelling of players and students cheering alike. Reaching the field, Hibari's first thought was to head straight out to the grass and demand what the hell Yamamoto had been thinking touching his locker, much less leaving a cupcake of all things for him to find, but the scene in front of him caused him to stall momentarily.

Yamamoto, predictably enough, was the only girl playing on either team. Namimori's girl's softball team was regrettably pathetic, despite early attempts to raise team moral by adding Yamamoto to the lineup. In the end, the team had fallen apart and the young baseball star was forced to play on a city team for the rest of the season. It wasn't a bad deal, but it took her away from Namimori more than Hibari cared for.

It also meant that she occasionally played mock games with several of the boys from Class B, and if anyone underestimated her because of her gender, then they were in for a quite a rude awakening.

Currently, Yamamoto was positioned at second base. A burly student from the other team was eyeing her from first, his stance hinting that he might have played on a school team at some point. The batter struck a fast grounder, and Hibari felt strangely interested to watch her play. He didn't often, but since it was his significant other's sport of choice, he might as well see what all of the fuss was about.

Lightning fast, the ball shot towards seconds and Hibari felt his breath catch without his consent when Yamamoto snatched the ball up like it was second nature and got into position to tag the runner from first. Like a crazed bull, the larger student plowed straight into her, knocking her back onto the grass and continuing to third. Hibari felt his blood chill at such callous unsportsmanlike behavior, but continued to watch as Yamamoto cursed loudly, rolling on the grass until she was on her knees, then threw her shoulder back and with a harsh yell, launched the ball with all of her strength and perfect form right to home plate. Luckily, the catcher at home was big enough to take on the runner, and with split-second timing, managed to catch the ball and tag the runner out before he touched the base.

The modest crowd of students sitting in the stands near the field burst into excited applause and cheers. Yamamoto was smiling widely despite the back of her white shirt and the knees of her long sweatpants being heavily grass-stained from her fall. Getting back to her feet, she stumbled a little at first and rolled her shoulder carefully. It was an athlete's job not to injure their body and to keep their health at all times, and now was no exception.

Hibari frowned at the look on Yamamoto's face, despite feeling a strange surge of pleasure at seeing her play so well. The next batter struck out and the teams rotated, signaling an opportunity for Hibari to finally approach his idiot girlfriend.

Regardless of the fact that Yamamoto was the only girl playing, it was still against school rules for her to share the men's locker room, and so because of that she was the only person currently using the women's. Hibari watched her go inside, a towel draped across her shoulders, and silently followed her in.

He didn't take two steps inside before Yamamoto turned suddenly and smiled at him, all sunshine and grass-stains and cheer. It was easy to underestimate the future assassin she would become, though Hibari didn't linger on that thought. Instead, he approached her and ran a finger down her sweat-covered collarbone.

"Did you see my play, Kyoya?" She asked breathlessly, still pumped with adrenaline from the game and now even more excited to be alone with her boyfriend in the women's locker room. Her voice seemed to trigger something in Hibari, or maybe it was the usage of his first name. He often told her to not call him that, but true to form, Yamamoto blissfully ignored him.

"Don't touch my stuff." He said instead, glaring at her despite knowing that she didn't take his threats very seriously anymore. Yamamoto laughed.

"Oh, did you see the cupcake I left you? We made them in Home Ec. class today. I didn't know if you liked cake, because I know you're not too fond of sweet things, but I thought you could at least appreciate it because it's yellow." She made a strange wiggling motion with her fingers. "It kinda looked like Hibird, right? Haha! Maybe you should feed it to him. He seems like the type of guy who'd like sweet things." She continued to laugh merrily despite the increasingly dark looks Hibari was sending her. Could her idiocy not stop?! And good lord why was he dating someone who talked so much?

"Anyway," Yamamoto breezed, seeming to realize she'd reached her quota for teasing him for day, "That jerk out there really did a number on me." She turned her back to Hibari and walked over to one of the cubbies in the wall. Completely uncaring of the fact that there was a male in the room, her boyfriend no less, Yamamoto slipped off her shirt and walked over to the floor-length mirror on another wall. Hibari watched her progress with increasingly-wide eyes. He stared somewhat dazedly at her black sport's bra and the low-riding sweat pants that were clinging to her waist and legs like a second skin. Without the shirt on, he could clearly see all of her curves, from the tempting little dimples above her rear to shear outline of her panties through the thin pants material. She was also amazingly toned for a girl, but then again, from his girlfriend he would expect no less.

Hibari then noticed that she'd paused in front of the mirror, facing towards him, and was trying to look over her shoulder at her back in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" He asked. If she wasn't going to be embarrassed by her state of undress, then neither was he, regardless of how heated it made his blood feel.

Yamamoto looked back at him with a frown and turned to show him her back and left shoulder. Hibari tensed when he saw the red, irritated flesh and early formation of a bruise. From the looks of it, it was going to be dark and rather big. Fury like he didn't feel very often flooded his veins. Fury towards another because of actions taken against someone he cared for swept through his whole body and Hibari snarled angrily when Yamamoto looked up at his with wide, surprised eyes.

"Kyoya? What are you. . .oh! Wait!" She said hurriedly, walking over to him and placing her hands of his upper arms. "Don't worry about that moron. I know for a fact that he's about to get dropped from the school team. He knows it too, and maybe he's just trying to get some compensation out of the whole thing. I don't care, he's an idiot." She looked up into his eyes, being only a few inches shorted than he, rather tall for a girl, and she smiled. "Calm down please."

Hibari's molten fury cooled a little at the look on her face, a strange phenomenon that such a strange girl could cause him to experience such a wide range of emotions in so short a time. Sighing drearily, Hibari motioned her to turn so that he could see the worst of the damage. Yamamoto complied, and Hibari traced her shoulder carefully, looking for extensive injury. It would bruise badly, but he was pretty sure it was going to look worse than it actually would be.

Letting out a little huff, he turned his head away and motioned her back.

"Get dressed already. It's shameful for an unmarried woman to be walking around without a shirt on, especially with a man in the room." Hibari may not always abide by the rules, but who said anything about chivalry being dead.

Yamamoto stared at him for a few seconds, a small grin blooming once more of her face as she reached out and grasped his arm. Hibari jerked when she hugged his arm to her chest, right between her breasts, and looked up at his through dark, hazel eyes.

"Ne, Kyoya, I can't get dressed yet until I take a shower. But I think my shoulder hurts too much to raise my arm all the way. I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me, would you. . . ?" She whispered, stretching up on her toes to nip his ear lightly with her teeth. Hibari's whole body tensed like a bow. She knew his fetish for biting well. . .

Smiling seductively, Yamamoto took a couple steps back before turning towards the direction of the showers. Hibari watched her go, his eyes riveted to her slowly rolling rear.

Yamamoto turned to look over her good shoulder when she was at the shower-room door.

She winked at him. Hibari never moved faster.

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Thanks for reading. Please review.

Coming up in the next chapter:

5. Sq/Fem!80,

6. Xan/Fem!27,

7. Ryo/Fem!59

8. Reb/Lam