One Shot (Hands)

Gokudera had been born with his mother's talent and his piano music was breathtaking even though he rarely played at all. The irony was, many people forgot that he had also been born with the blood of his mafia father running through his veins and that he had once been a hitman who had earned the name 'Walking Bomb'. He had long ago decided to walk the path of his father's blood and only in his rare moments of nostalgia did he return to the piano that had once soothed him during his darkest hours.

Blue eyes blinked at the music score in front of them as slender fingers flipping the multitude of pages to a piece of music that he could hardly make sense of. The change of key was erratic, going from minor to major and back again. Sharps for 3 bars then flats for 5 before easing into a more neutral key over the next two pages. Then there was the spread of notes as well as the rhythm that went from speedy to slow, soft to loud and why were there so many allegros coupled with pianoforte, making an already monstrously difficult piece even more, if that was possible, monstrous.

"What is this?" he blurted, clutching the thick bundle together.

Heterochromatic eyes blinked at him innocently. "A song," that deceitful mouth curved into a sweet smile as Mukuro added, "For piano."

"This…this is not a song! This is…I don't know what this is!" He ranted, waving the sheets in the air in front of the Mist guardian's nose.

"It's a song," came the insistent statement and before Gokudera could decide to fling the whole thing at Mukuro's face, he added, "I wrote it for you."

That made the Storm guardian pause and stare at the patiently smiling man who, Gokudera thought not for the first time, should still be locked up in Vendice if for nothing other than the fact he was sure Mukuro was slightly insane.

"You wrote it…" He said slowly, watching as Mukuro's smile widened. "For me." There was the slight tilt of that pineapple head in ascent. "Do you even know how a piece of music should sound like?"

"I wrote it for you," he insisted, obviously quite proud of himself as his expression took on an almost childish excitement.

Gokudera knew he was being played, he always knew but somehow he just could not say no when the other guardian was looking at him like that. Sighing, he waved the abomina...the song in the air wearily. "You want me to play this for you?" he asked redundantly and was a little startled by the wide, seemingly genuine grin that broke over Mukuro's face. Shaking his head, Gokudera decided that

Mukuro's insanity was rubbing off on him the more time he spent with the Mist and wondered if it was time to avoid the other altogether. He knew it was impossible but he would try, really, really hard.

Sitting at the piano in the music room Mukuro had dragged him to, he flipped the piece to the first page and shuddered. Scowling, he ordered, "You are going to turn the pages for me."

Happily obliging, Mukuro stood beside the piano, his long fingers poised at the edge of the next page. Grimacing, Gokudera placed his fingers on the ivory keys and began.

After half an hour, he was ready to just bomb the piano, the room and Mukuro together with it! No, that would be too lenient for the creator of this abomination masquerading as a 'song'. His fingers were aching and they felt stretched while his eyes were watering from reading the notes off the pages as they were turned carefully. He had finished the play through twice and the second time had still grated at his ears. What the hell was Mukuro thinking when he wrote this thing? And why in the world was Gokudera obliging him?

"Hmmm… it sounded better in my head," the Mist guardian said thoughtfully. "Perhaps it's a little too difficult for you. After all, it has been a while."

Gokudera froze as he heard the taller Guardian utter those damned words…Too difficult for you… That was a challenge, a blatant, shameless challenge and he was not going to let it pass. It did not matter that

Mukuro had obviously baited him, it did not matter if the piece of crap sounded like nails on a board, all that mattered now was that Gokudera would play this damned song that Mukuro had written for him perfectly. He would get every stupid allegro and forte and staccato correct, tear the skin and muscle in between his fingers to play the almost impossible chords that Mukuro had dreamed up, make his fingers dance and fly across the keys to keep up with the crazy quavers, semi-quavers and what-nots just to prove to the smug Mist that he, Gokudera Hayato, son of the greatest pianist he had ever known, would play this stupid song.

Standing, he gritted out. "Tomorrow, here, 8pm." Blazing blue eyes jerked up to glare at him furiously.

"You better not miss that appointment, page-turner."

Mukuro smirked. "Oya… Never in my dreams," he assured as he watched Gokudera storm from the room, hugging the sheets to his chest. There was a minute softening of that triumphant smirk as he murmured, "Only for you, Hayato."

Weeks flew by and at first, curious onlookers had peeked into the music room to find the source of the cacophony only to hastily retreat as a stick of dynamite or an irate Uri arched through the air towards their face. No one bothered them again when Gokudera had jumped up off his stool and roared for Yamamoto to get out, after which he activated his Vongole gear and sent the Rain guardian running from the room. The swordsman was laughing but he never went back to disturb his friend again saying that he would wait until it did not sound like Gokudera was trying to kill someone with his song alone.

And finally one day, after almost two months, Gokudera finally finished the whole piece smoothly, without a single mistake and without a single aching finger. Staring at his hands, he realized that he had actually conquered the monster. Grinning fiercely, he swung his gaze up to glare up in triumphant at his constant companion for the last two months. Mukuro's expression was oddly serious as he said quietly,

"Now feel it."

Startled, Gokudera frowned at him in confusion. The Mist smiled patiently and took his hands gently, placing them back on the keys. "Close your eyes and feel it, your fingers know the song, now feel it," he urged, very unlike Mukuro and Gokudera blinked before he felt his face heat up as he jerked his face back to look at those large hands over his own slender hands.

Almost as though he was being controlled, he began to play and soon, his eyes slid shut as Mukuro's hands left his. The song ebbed and swelled around him, unpredictable, fast and light, hard and slow, it came from a distance and then crashed over him in a wave of thunder before disappearing with a gentle tinkling. It was not a monster but something else, kind, powerful, raging, calm, it was familiar yet not and Gokudera was so caught up in it that when he played the last note, he realized with a pang of sorrow that he did not want it to end.

"Now, Gokudera Hayato," Mukuro's purr came from behind him. "What do you think of your song?"

Swallowing, he did not know what to say, knowing that he had somehow lost whatever challenge Mukuro had given him.

"Kufufufu…" And suddenly, strong, lithe arms wrapped around his body. "Letting your guard down, little Storm," he whispered tauntingly. "And all it took was a song."

Eyes narrowing, his body crackled with his power as his gear activated with hardly a thought and he felt satisfaction as Mukuro released him to avoid the blow. Grinning, his blood thrumming with the triumph of mastering that song, its music singing in his soul, he whirled and attacked the Mist who smirked at him and threw himself backwards, out the balcony and down into the gardens below. Gokudera followed immediately, charging his weapon and taking a shot at Mukuro even before they reached the ground. They had never fought like this before as they landed and sprang at each other, Mukuro casting illusions at the Storm guardian to slow him down.

"Not today!" he yelled as he countered with his weapon even though he could hardly see where Mukuro was. Somehow, it did not seem as hard today, he was calmer but so much more energized as he fought, even knowing that Mukuro had gone easy on his illusions in favor of meeting Gokudera on more equal grounds, strangely generous of him. They crashed and ripped up the garden, Gokudera for once, not caring about paperwork as he eagerly threw himself into the battle.

It ended with Gokudera pinned underneath Mukuro, both of them panting from exertion, the taller guardian sporting a vivid bruise along his jaw while Gokudera could feel bruises forming along his ribs where the side of Mukuro's trident had hit him. The other had not broken his skin and he stared up into that smugly, satisfied face.

"How did it feel, Gokudera Hayato?" he asked huskily. "Your song…"

The song, that Mukuro had written for him. He went still as he stared at the Mist. He had never realized how much he missed the piano. His fingers and his hands were limber once again and he held his dynamite as though they were truly extensions of himself. He had not realized how stiff his fingers had gotten compared to the days as the Walking Bomb when he had been playing the piano almost every day after his assignments.

Practice…

That horribly difficult piece, with its running chords and its stretched out notes, to the control he had to exert in order to play the fast sections lightly. That song, so complicated in its music had called to him, reminding him that his blood did not belong to the mafia alone.

Practice…the piano as his outlet, his trainer…

"How…?" he croaked, suddenly so self-conscious as he lowered his gaze, unable to meet Mukuro's.

Deliberately misunderstanding, Mukuro put more of his weight on top of Gokudera and hummed, teasingly mocking. "With a lot of inspiration," he replied playfully. When Gokudera scowled into his chest, Mukuro chuckled, leaning down to breathe, "And a lot of observation. You have beautiful hands, Gokudera Hayato, the hands of a killer," he drew one limp hand to his mouth. "The hands of a creator. I would hear you play the music that reflects on both these aspects."

Swallowing hard, he asked in a tiny voice, "What is the name of the song?"

Smile widening, filled with teasing, mockery as well as possessive affection, Mukuro pressed his lips against one hot ear and whispered, "Gokudera Hayato."

Later, in the privacy of Mukuro's bedroom, those hands bruised his flesh and played along his back as though it were the ivory keys of the piano. Even without words, Hayato whispered to him of love and passion, gratitude and relief and he greedily accepted everything that the Storm had to offer. In return, Mukuro understood that his lover had heard his own confession in that horrifyingly complicated piece that had taken him almost a year to create.

The illusionist would never tell him this but it was the image he had gleaned from Hayato's mind when he had possessed him that had been the true inspiration to the piece: an image of a bloody youth, his fingers dancing across the keys of an old worn piano in the empty house of the man he had just killed.

It was the last time that Gokudera had truly played, the song and the old piano a silent witness to his decision to dedicate himself fully to his mafia blood.

"You are the storm," he whispered as Hayato sobbed and cried out in his ear. "Terrible and beautiful," he was unsure why he spoke, it was very unlike him but here, buried inside the body of the last person he thought to call his own, everything seemed surreal. "And you are mine, Gokudera Hayato," he snarled savagely as he held his lover tightly through their mutual climax.

"And you are mine, Rokudo Mukuro," came the unexpected growl, shaky and hoarse but fierce as Gokudera pushed the illusionist up to meet his startled gaze unbendingly. "You wrote that piece for me," he reminded mercilessly, his mouth stretched in a vicious grin. "For me."

Staring at him for a moment, Mukuro suddenly laughed. "Yes I did," he agreed as he leaned to catch that grin with his mouth, plundering and conquering before he drew away to murmur softly, "I did."

Nothing else was said, there had been enough confessions for one night and for the first time, Gokudera felt as though he truly belonged. It was a dangerous feeling and he would always be on his guard around his uniquely unpredictable lover but the fact remained that Rokudo Mukuro had written a song for him and Gokudera smiled as he looked down at his hands splayed across Mukuro's narrow chest.

Contentment came in strange, unbelievable packages but snuggling into his lover's embrace, just for tonight, Gokudera could not being himself to care. Listening to Mukuro's slow breathing, he thought that perhaps his lover did not care either. It was enough for now as he let himself sleep in his lover's arms for the first time since they came together.

Author's note

I'm so so sorry that this story has been on hiatus for so so long. Hope you guys enjoy this one-shot.:)