3 to 5 % of the animal kingdom mated for life; of that percentage were a number of creatures that had flings on the side, or could easily abandon their mates if said partner failed to meet any set qualification.

Of that 3 to 5 %, there was one species made up of one single specimen whose monogamous beliefs were set in stone and would not be shaken; that specimen was named Kyoya Hibari.

The specimen Kyoya Hibari demanded complete loyalty and faith – he simply had no will to hunt down another species strong enough to fit into the role of his mate, and so was moved to jealousy and overbearing protective instincts very easily; such was true also for his territory, Namimori middle and high school.

His mate was, of course, exceedingly strong and quick; confident in his ability to defeat the odds and protective of his 'pack'.

His mate was Takeshi Yamamoto; and Yamamoto was a difficult mate to keep. After all, he was always sacrificing his own well-being for that of others; his knowledge of self-preservation was little to nonexistent and he knew of no such thing as personal space. He preferred to be with the 'pack', instead of with the lone predator that was his life-partner.

Considering that factor against Hibari's possessive nature, blowouts were promised.

This is such a day.

Hibari is three steps behind the teen, eyeballing the tension between his shoulders as the taller male clutches his backpack with a white-knuckled fist. He is, for a rare occurrence, pissed off.

Hibari drags his tongue over his lips, moving a little closer to the boy and letting his hands slip beneath his jacket to grip the cool handles of his tonfas.

As he had suspected, they surpass the sushi shop that belongs to the Yamamoto family and they continue to Namimori forest.

They travel two miles deep before the swordsman drops his bag and turns to Hibari, his amber eyes narrowed and his jaw tight.

"Why…" His voice is ragged – as if it almost hurt to finally speak the words he had obviously been suppressing since leaving Namimori high.

They were both in their second year of high school.

"Why did you do that?" His feet are braced apart and his hands are placed in such a way that suggests he believes he is holding his katana – a sure sign that he is more than ready to fight.

Hibari wants to smirk, but he shoves aside the urge and instead moves closer still, close enough that he can see the faint scarlet speckles in Yamamoto's irises.

The height difference is annoying and demeaning, but he has long since worked around it.

"You should have chosen to question my nature before we started this." 'This' refers to their relationship which had no name. He isn't animalistic enough to call it 'mating', he isn't crass enough to call them 'fuck buddies', and he doesn't care to use such a sickly sweet term as 'lovers'. They simply are.

"You really hurt Gokudera-kun this time!" Yamamoto outbursts, pain reflected in his gaze.

Hibari wants to use that pain to his advantage, to push the male to the forest floor and fuck him there while he's angry and uncertain and possibly a little violent.

There's a small part of him, however – a tiny, miniscule, faint speck of light inside of him – that is humbled by that hurt and tugs at his heart, demanding him to back down and, for the first time in his life, apologize.

But, being stronger than that bit of humanity, he kills that tiny light and the smirk he has been forcing back emerges. "He had no right touching what is mine." Because Yamamoto belongs to him – he has marked every inch of his dark tan skin, been inside that tight heat uncountable times. He has claimed the boy standing before him inside and out and no one could deny his ownership of him.

"He didn't touch me!" His voice is low and dangerous, his usually warm gaze cold and dangerous. "I touched him. So why don't you come at me instead of my friends?"

"I have other ways of punishing you for infidelity." Hibari states blankly. As a matter of fact, he is already imagining the punishment…

But he wants to see how this argument fairs; will Yamamoto attack him? Or will he lose his drive and back down? Hibari hopes for the former.

His tongue runs over his lips and he eyes the male from head to toe, evaluating how angry he is.

He is almost literally fuming. That's a good sign.

"My infideli… I wouldn't cheat on you with Gokudera-kun." He snaps in a low, icy growl. "Gokudera-kun would never cheat on Tsuna; he loves him to death and he'd rather die than hurt him like that."

He feels the little monster that sleeps in his heart awaken, stretching out ferocious claws and flashing large, sharp fangs as it yawns – the little green monster named jealousy with red eyes for rage.

"And you?" He lifts a hand and feathers it through Yamamoto's hair. "Would you cheat on me?" Because Yamamoto had just spewed a lot of reasons why Gokudera would remain faithful.

If Gokudera wasn't already in a relationship, would Hibari lose him?

The little green monster roars and strikes out; in unison, Hibari bares his teeth in a scowl. "Would you?" His fingers curl into the male's scalp, tugging viciously at the strands in a sudden attack that makes the swordsman drop to his knees.

Yamamoto's expression melts from anger to surprise in less than a second. "… Kyo-kun…" His expression screams of an epiphany.

Hibari snarls and tugs harder, forcing Yamamoto's head painfully back on his shoulders. He hates that nickname – and he hates it even more when Yamamoto says it when he's already angry.

Despite his earlier anger, Yamamoto is calm now – no, he's smiling, and Hibari knows that he must have said or done something that could be, in Yamamoto's mind, twisted and disfigured to look genuinely nice.

He wraps one hand around Hibari's wrist and holds on without pulling, shifting closer to Hibari and butting his head affectionately against Hibari's thigh as he plays his free hand above the waistband of his pants.

He lets the swordsman do as he pleases, keeping a steady and unwavering eye on the male.

"Mah mah, Kyo-kun should have told me…"

Hibari raises an eyebrow.

"You don't have to be so uncertain… I won't ever cheat on you." And he laughs, finally breaking out of Hibari's punishing grasp and looks up at Hibari with loving eyes (and Hibari isn't sure whether or not the look is so sickly intoxicating that it kills the little green monster in his heart or if his heart startles to a stop entirely). "But you did go a little too far with Gokudera-kun today, hm? He's gonna be in the hospital for a while and I'll be visiting him with Tsuna, so that just means I won't be able to spend so much time with you."

The green monster resurrects itself with a fiery vengeance and Hibari nearly unleashes it upon the swordsman in that very moment; that sly little predator…

Yamamoto undoes his pants with his teeth and Hibari puts aside his thoughts for revenge – if only for a few minutes, he swears to himself.

"So I'm gonna have to make sure you know how much I love you now." He speaks in that confident, upbeat tone again. There's a dusting of red over his cheeks and yet his gaze is focused and shameless.

After all, a blushing, stuttering, uncertain partner was not Hibari's ideal mate.

Yamamoto goes directly to work, right down to business, and his mouth is hot and tight around Hibari's length; he suckles and licks and purrs and his eyelids are heavy with obvious lust and enjoyment. He lips along his cock and fondles his sac and Hibari is pleased with the progress he has made since their first time.

But, of course, Yamamoto is a quick learner and even quicker to develop his own techniques. He relaxes his throat muscles and Hibari slides right down his throat till his pubic hairs tickle Yamamoto's nose. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

Yamamoto squeezes and releases around him, swallowing around him and driving him to the brink of insanity.

Hibari pets back his hair, a smirk growing on his lips as he wordlessly congratulates his partner on an ongoing-job well-done.

He waits until the muscles in his thighs are trembling and he's bucking unconsciously into Yamamoto's mouth before he wrenches the teen from him and pushes him to the ground where he lays panting and squirming, his eyes glued on Hibari as he licks his glossy lips clean of pre-cum.

Hibari twirls a finger in the air. Like a nicely trained puppy, Yamamoto turned over onto his hands and knees, his ass facing Hibari like the perky, tight little offering it is.

He gets down behind him and undoes his pants, sliding them and his boxers over his shapely butt and down his solid thighs to rest at his inner knees. He feels Yamamoto shiver beneath his touch and his body pulses in answer.

He reaches beneath Yamamoto's shirt and teases his nipples till they're rock hard against his fingers – until he hears the swordsman whisper a word familiarly like his name.

"I'm sorry…" He isn't in the least. "Do you want something?" He nips the back of Yamamoto's neck.

Yamamoto shivers again and he whispers a little more.

"I can't hear you if you don't speak up." Honestly, what an herbivorous thing to do – to not state your wants and needs clearly. Only herbivores would be so weak and selfless. That was why they were eaten…

Although… He wouldn't mind devouring Yamamoto bite for bite.

Nonetheless, Yamamoto is no herbivore and he won't tolerate such an attitude.

"You're not close enough, Kyo-kun." Yamamoto looks over his shoulder at him, that confidence burning alongside submission – the same kind of submission shown in lions.

As in, Hibari could feel himself growing harder and thicker and he isn't completely sure of his self-control at the moment.

Yamamoto rolls his hips and sashays his tight little ass, displaying Hibari's target with purposeful seduction.

Hibari puts his hands on those hips and Yamamoto's attitude changes. The muscles in his ass clench and his hips are straining away from Hibari's grasp. Yamamoto's lopsided grin paired with his devilishly lusty gaze warns Hibari that his partner has dropped his 'herbivore act' (which he uses in front of the 'pack') and is not going to lie down and simply take whatever Hibari decided to give him.

He's going to tease them both.

Hibari's white teeth are revealed in a flash of a smirk.

Grabbing Yamamoto's sweater, he pulls it over his head and tangles it around his wrists, sending the swordsman's bare chest into the leafy ground.

Momentarily distracted, Yamamoto's top priority switches to freeing his hands. Hibari takes the situation to bite a trail down Yamamoto's spine, leaving a bloody trail behind him until he reaches that perfect, welcoming little ass that wags for him as if it can sense his intentions.

He sticks a finger in to make sure it's clean, making Yamamoto tense in a flash of discomfort; Hibari knows that a dry hole plus a dry digit isn't a great fit, but he twists and pushes and doesn't stop until he is sure his partner is clean.

He pulls the finger out and replaces it with his tongue, saliva mixed with Yamamoto's blood as he pushes the muscle into the heated body beneath him.

Yamamoto arches into his touch and then away; the sweater is missing. Yamamoto is free.

The swordsman jerks out of his hands and turns around to sit on his knees facing Hibari, his erection standing straight from between his legs. He is shivering but he is looking Hibari up and down in a way that makes the skylark want to stand a little straighter and display his dominance – but they aren't there to determine if they are as strong as they were yesterday, so he stalks forward instead and steals those softly parted, glossy lips in a bloody kiss that tastes like iron and salt and fish.

Yamamoto fights him and it's exhilarating when their tongues tangle and then part, their teeth snapping and capturing. It's a war more than it is a gesture of intimacy; when they pull apart, Hibari's tongue is swollen and Yamamoto sports a split lip.

He jerks the swordsman's legs apart and then out from under him, upending the boy and throwing his calves over his shoulders. Yamamoto lets the attack slide and then retaliates by snatching onto one of Hibari's hands to play with, dragging each digit through his mouth while his tongue wiggles and curls.

Hibari feathers his thumb over Yamamoto's throat, his smirk telling the teen that he is doing good… that he is doing what he wants…

His thumb digs into flesh and his fist tightens around the delicate structure that was Takeshi's windpipe. The swordsman gasps and releases the fingers he had been teasing, his attention focusing on regaining his ability to breathe.

And while he is suffocating, Hibari is pushing one finger and then two fingers and then three fingers into his body, the teen far too busy trying to remove his one offending hand to fight the other.

When he knows Yamamoto is ready, he releases his throat right before stealing his breath in a completely different way.

Yamamoto arches off the ground, mouth opening wide in a startled gasp as his hands find purchase in his jacket, nails digging in to find skin beneath three layers of clothing.

He bites down on Yamamoto's nipple and tugs, enjoying how he pants at the affection even while he battles pain.

He moves his hips after only a moment's patience. He rocks back and forth, at first at a slow pace to adjust to the burning, tight heat that was Yamamoto's body, and then at a faster pace, his sac slapping lewdly against the curve of Yamamoto's ass.

Yamamoto is pushing back on him, despite how his lips are curled in discomfort and his eyes are creased in pain. His hands are cupping Hibari's buttocks, using it as leverage to push Hibari in and out of him more deeply.

And, even though he's obviously hurting, Yamamoto doesn't cry out – and Hibari believes that that might just be the winning card in the game that was their sex life when it came to their relationship; all noises were annoying – the only sound he could bear was the Namimori anthem and Yamamoto, though unexpectedly great in many things, was no talented singer. He wasn't bad, but Hibari would sooner bite him to death than let him desecrate the school in such a way.

Yamamoto, like he does with most other things, bears the pain in silence; except, this time, the pain blossoms into bliss and Hibari watches the pleasure bloom across his face – no, his entire body – instead of the pain wilting into self-torturing agony.

"Kyo-kun…" He whispers beneath his breath like a prayer.

Hibari praises him with a kiss, tongues interlacing and teeth seeking flesh to since in he lets a hand wander to tangle with Yamamoto's and wrap around the teen's pulsating length. Together, they pump his cock, even as Hibari's tempo increases and he abuses the swordsman's canal with his manhood.

It's because Yamamoto is that rare brand of lover that doesn't pointlessly cry out 'god' and instead calls out his name with all the adoration and faith of a devotee.

There is no submissive nonsense where Yamamoto whimpers and begs and pleads 'no' even as he blatantly cries for more; he is no weakling that is forcibly subdued beneath Hibari's hands (though he likes to make a game of it, likes to flaunt what he has for Hibari to see and then avoid him until he's nearly murderous with want before he finally comes back, all smiles and charm as if he had been oblivious of his own actions).

Yamamoto is capably a man all his own and he is looking up at Hibari now with that ignited flare in his amber gaze, those eyes quickly darkening and becoming almost scarlet as he pushes him closer, pulls him away, pushes him closer, pulls him away, pushes, pulls, pushes, pulls – and it takes a moment for Hibari to drag himself from his self-satisfying thoughts mixed with fantasies of what he plans on doing to the swordsman to realize that Yamamoto is taking the lead from him, controlling the speed and force and essentially controlling his own pleasure.

Which is something Hibari can not do; the pleasure is his to give or take and so is the pain.

He shoves Yamamoto's one knee into his chest, forces their hands tight around the base of his cock and refuses to release in the slightest, and snaps his hips back and forth to a rhythm all his own.

Yamamoto's gasps of pleasure descend to grunts of uncertain bliss and then to pained ecstasy; his eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched. His free hand is reaching for Hibari, smashing their lips together once again. Hibari controls that as well, leaving nothing for Yamamoto to hold on to except him.

He waits with predatory patience, increasing and decreasing his pace, constantly changing his angle, and attacking the swordsman's body.

All the while, their combined hands are a cock-ring on Yamamoto's length, stopping him from cumming.

And he waits… His slate blue eyes watch and calculate and hypothesize. Will Yamamoto beg?

His answer comes and he knows that it is a 'no' because Yamamoto rolls his tongue over his bloodied lips and his eyes are at half-mast. He squeezes his anal muscles around him and plays his free hand beneath Hibari's shirt, tweaking his nipples while the hand entwined with his feathers a thumb over his tight grip. His anal muscles milk him, Yamamoto's lips turning up into a smirk that most likely would have frightened the group he ran with.

They're two of a kind and he wants Yamamoto to be his one and only because, in the animal kingdom, only the strongest and most flamboyant copulate while the weak and unnoticeable wither and fade away. Yamamoto is strong and flamboyant and he's loyal without fault – so, really, Hibari has nothing more to need.

He lightens his grip, drops his hips and then twists upwards, and both their worlds burn to pure white mixed in with the zap and singe of mind-numbing satisfaction.

When they come back to their own bodies, they're trying to devour each other through their lips and they are still thrusting through the last of their orgasm, weeding out every ounce of pleasure there is.

When they're in control of their bodies, Hibari slips out of Yamamoto and pulls his pants back up.

Yamamoto is more languish in his actions, lazily slipping a towel out of backpack (Hibari doesn't bother to ask why he has that in his sack instead of in his gym bag) and cleaning himself off with an air of one greatly pleased.

He takes his time getting back into his clothes and Hibari enjoys the view as Yamamoto (consciously, of course, though he doesn't acknowledge Hibari's eyes on him) shimmies and sways into the fabrics, committing unnecessary errors and actions that ends up with him having to take his clothes off and then back on three different times.

"If you keep doing that…" He begins in a softly threatening voice. "I'll be led to believe you want me to fuck you into the ground again."

Yamamoto points a finger at himself, eyes widened 'innocently'. "Who, me?"

Hibari saunters forward. "I see no one else here."

Yamamoto smirks. "Couldn't be."

"But it is."

"Are you sure?"

"Takeshi." Hibari snaps. "Do not test my patience." Or his self-control for that matter; the swordsman's pants were sliding down his lean hips – another error he had committed being that he had, for one reason or another, forgotten to button his slacks.

Yamamoto flushes with pleasure and Hibari instantly knows why; Yamamoto always gets so giddy whenever Hibari calls him by his name instead of surname or full name.

"Mah mah, Kyo-kun~ I thought your patience couldn't be tested!" He doesn't back down even as Hibari closes in. "Imagine what the kids at school would think if they knew the president of the disciplinary committee could be tested."

And he snaps. Not because of Yamamoto's words, but because he oh-so 'naively' puts his hand in his own pants and fondles himself as he says those words, as if the idea of Hibari's patience being tried turned him on.

If there had ever before been a more blatant invitation to throw the man to the floor and fuck him, he couldn't remember it.

Some days later, as Kusakabe is forced to deal with Hibari's worse-than-usual mood (Gokudera was apparently being overbearing and was hurting himself trying to get better in any way but lying down – therefore, Yamamoto was absent and, worst of all, his absence was excused so Hibari couldn't even punish him for being missing), the skylark is looking out the window behind his desk and is pondering the possibility of perhaps declaring a bloody war on the group Yamamoto was a part of (the same group that would falsely lay claim to him, saying things along the line of him being the 'cloud guardian' when he had not the smallest memory of having agreed to such) just so he could see that momentary fury light those amber depths again.

And then he determines the afterward reaction in which Yamamoto had found his jealousy endearing…

He smirks; well, it wouldn't hurt if he cleared it with the baby first.

Author's Note: Have you missed me? I've missed me! Okay, so here's what happened: I've been trying to post stories for a long time now - technically, since my last story posting (I was struck with inspiration); however, there was a problem. Fanfiction developed an error and so wouldn't let me update any of my stories or create any new stories. Today, I was finally able to make a new story! TODAY IS GOOD! WHOOOOOOT!

Did I just write 1880 porn? Le gasp! I am so bad~ On a related note, did either of the characters seem OOC by any chance?