Okay so first Katekyo Hitman Reborn Story/attempt at story, or should a say series of one shots...

Pairing: 80/59 and others depending on how I'm feeling and what I'm writing.

Rating; T (but hey it could could go up *wink wink*

and on that note do enjoy.

I wasn't sure exactly when it has started happening, but somewhere along the line it seemed that the kid had started tagging along with the brat to his training sessions.

Don't get me wrong it doesn't bother me all that much, seriously it doesn't. For the most part he sits quietly in the corner of the room, sometimes with a book; sometimes with that bitchy cat of his. He never watches that much, which is odd, considering that the brat is his supposed boyfriend and all. One would think he would be watching cheering me on to kick my ass.

But he never does.

Today he's sitting there with a book, knees drawn up to his chest, hair tied up in a loose band and a set of reading glasses.

The brat's supposed to be working on his movement with me today, however as normal I can tell his mind elsewhere. He just won't take it fucking seriously! He's got this stupid goofy look on his face and keeps attempting to catch the kids eye; who is clearly to focused in his book; cheek resting against a close fist, head turned away from him.

I honestly don't get the big deal. The kid treats him like shit at times. His voice constantly raised when speaking to him, eyes wide and angry. Yet the brat takes it all on the chin with one of those cheery grins and an arm hanging loosely from his so called "boyfriends" neck attempting to pacify him. I've seen it so many times before, it's getting old.

So try as I freaking might, here I am drawing the brat into a proper fight (trust me I wouldn't even bother if it wasn't for that shorty kid Reborn and his god dammed threats). But apparently brats not having any of it, he instead smiles casually, all the while defending my attempts to slash his head off.

Evidently it was his dad who got him into this, sword wielding I mean; and according to one of my very brief conversations with the kid he idolizes his dad. So what's the deal with treating it like playtime?

Unless…

Then abruptly the gears in my head are turning at a rapid pace as an idea forms.

He obviously needs something to get him focused, grab his attention and hold it.

Naturally my focus comes from my pride; I am part of the Varia after all, my greatest pride. There are not many who can say that. We make goddamned sure.

But what could possibly keep the brat focused aside from baseball?

There's no way I am going to try and teach him how to wield a sword with baseball as my medium. I simply fucking refuse.

Thanks to that brat I have come hold a deep dislike for the sport. I don't care how freaking good it is for you.

So what do I do? What the hell does he like as much as baseball?

A sudden light catches my eyes and turn to knock the crap out of it for temporally blinding me.

It just kinda hit me. I don't even know what you call it. Inspiration maybe? Yeah let's go with that. I suddenly had a fucking epiphany.

But point is the kid was suddenly surrounded by blinding sunlight and it was as if God himself was shining a flash light on him to grab my attention.

Duh.

I manoeuvred myself to the side sharply, and the brat gave me an odd look, and I could see the sudden confusion in his eyes over the fact that I had literally darted away from him; when it had been me who had been pummelling him into the floor moments ago.

I smirked as if to literally tell him I had very recently acuminated a plan.

Again with the muddled expression, really he doesn't have a clue. What the fuck does the kid see in him? Probably good in bed…

Fuck! Mental image!

Back on track. The plan seems to working well and the brat doesn't have a clue as I move along the wall, seemingly as if to circle him.

I don't think it really hit the kid when I grabbed him. I don't think it properly registered with the brat either.

One minuet he's sitting on the floor engrossed in some Italian writer's crappy novel, and the next he's up off his feet, glasses and book falling to ground and my sword at his throat.

I inwardly smirk as it starts to dawn in the brats eyes as to what I just did, and I'm telling you he looks pissed. His eyes light up with this fire that I've never seen before. I mean sure I've seen it when he's been fighting for his life and once on the rare occasion when he did get mad.

But not like this. He's suddenly glaring at me like I've killed the kid. Not merely grabbed him off the floor and introduced him to my left hand (sword).

He stands stock still as I forcefully remove the kid's rings from his fingers, and drop them to the floor with my right hand, to avoid complications with the kid trying to kill me. I think he might have gone into shock slightly as he only struggles slightly as though he's not entirely sure as to what going on right now.

"Let him go" the words are spoken from the brat in a harsh tone, almost like he's trying to kill with words. Doesn't do anything mind you, I've suddenly got his attention, maybe he'd going to take this seriously now.

Another smirk on my part as I kick the kids many rings to the side away from him.

"I don't think so brat. If you make a wrong move I think I may be forced to slit his throat you don't want that now do you?" to prove my point I slowly drag my blade along the kids throat, watching as a ribbon of red etches though his skin. The kid makes a gasping noise that I'm sure is meant to signal he's in pain. The reaction only makes the brats eyes darken with anger.

Honestly all it does is make me smirk more. I can truthfully say I've never seen him so serious, and to think the key to unlocking it has been sitting under my nose the entire time.

"Remember this lesson is all about movement, you ought to be careful with yours" the words are defiantly meant to be teasing; an outright challenge for him to take back what's his.

"What the fuck is going on?" the kid seems to finally be grasping the predicament he's in. He immediately begins to struggle lashing out at my leg behind him; seeing as his arms are now uselessly pinned behind his back with my free hand.

"Takeshi!" he yells out. "What the fuck is this about you idiot?"

The brat stands still again, cautiously thinking about how to move. Though his eyes don't leave the kid trapped in my hold.

I give him a cruel smile as a plan to wind him up even more comes to mind.

"Don't worry" I tell the kid leaning down to his ear suggestively, eyes never leaving the brat. "He didn't have any hand in this" Slowly, making sure the brat can see, I drag my tongue over where I surgically sliced though the kid's skin wiping the blood away with one lick.

This move obviously doesn't go down well.

For one the kid's now trying desperately to move away in vain, ripping his head away from me and pulling on his arms in an attempt to tear them away. All the while he's throwing the brat these desperate looks, probably trying to communicate to him that he really doesn't want to be in this position with me.

The brat on the other hand is practically shaking with anger, and I suddenly feel this odd aura of malice emitting from him. To be honest it does make me pause for a while, because I honestly didn't think he was capable of feeling anything akin to hate. Oh well guess I was wrong there, because apparently it's so shocking that the kid freezes momentarily in his escapade of trying to escape to stare in horror at him.

Then he's running at me full pelt with the sharp side of the blade flying at me.

Heartless prick obviously forgot whose currently being held hostage in my arms. Great cause now I'm going to have to defend both of us, cause Gods knows what the brat would do to me if the kid actually died. Not that this would be my fault considering that the brats the one running at me and kid all guns blazing. But naturally it would be my fault 'cause I started it and all that shit.

Anyway he's suddenly flying at me, so naturally I duck and roll, taking the kid with me. I sort of land oddly and he takes most of the drive. Yeah I said I wouldn't let him get killed, that doesn't mean I'm goanna make sure he come out of this pristine and without a single scratch on him.

He's not my fucking boyfriend.

Apparently I don't have much time for thinking, as he comes flying at me again, this time I'm quick to move; the fuck away from him that is.

I jump up and take a leap back hauling the kid's weight with me, which surprisingly isn't much. Then I remember he's a friggin chain smoker, and smell is getting my nerves every time he shoves that freaking turf of silver hair in my face, I feel like ripping the pissing band from his hair. I would have done if I wasn't busy dodging the mess that the brats abruptly turned into.

I blame the next move on a sudden lapse in my concentration.

From the corner of my eye I catch him flying at me from the air, sword poised and jacket flying out behind him as he picks up momentum. The kid ducks in fear that his head will be severed from his neck. I don't share the same the fear and lash my arm out, and by extension sword. I par it with his and it swiftly become a battle of whose going to break first as he applies more pressure from his side of the metal in some sort of false hope that he can push me back.

"Hayato, are you okay?" He asks, though his eyes are still on me and as nasty looking as ever, but that soft tone of his is back, solely reserved for the kid clearly.

I literally feel the kid relax slightly.

"I'm fine you idiot, just hurry up and get this over with will you"

See what I mean about him being a bitch? The brats literally fighting for his life and he says crap like that. No, "thank you" or "don't worry about me, I'm okay". He could be a lot more grateful, but apparently he's not, and if he is he has a pretty fucked up way of showing it.

But I digress, it is after all none of my business as to who my student chooses as his future wife.

Now there's a mental image I did not want to give myself.

The brat has the audacity to copy my move from earlier as he begins to use his own sword as a hammer and my as a nail. It's really not funny and after a minuet I show him by ducking down and swerving to side, before bringing my arm back up to slash him in the side.

That little punk see's straight through it though and in a whirl of silver bring his own sword back up to defend himself from the side attack. He does however go skidding back before coming to stop.

It must have finally sunk in I was pretty serious about this match; because now I can finally see the cogs of his pea sized brain moving, thinking about his next move.

When it finally does come I have to use mine and the kid weight to hurl us out the way as a torrent of water descends upon the training ground.

Fuck! That little shit is trying to drown us!

"VOOOOII! Are you trying to kill us!" I can't help but shout.

The brat appears from behind the veils of water that have taken residence in the room and I reckon the idiots burst a pipe somewhere, cause there's no freaking way he's summoned all the water on his own.

I glance up to see he has indeed, right along the side of the wall is a gaping slash with water now streaming down the wall, and the urge to throttle him erupts inside me. Because really, who is the boss going to blame for this? He doesn't like paying for shit for as it is, (unless it's good food and by food I mean a crate load of meat); never mind a new training room every other week.

The kids clearly not impressed either, if the deep set frown is anything to go by, although that could be down to the fact that he's being tossed around like ragdoll and that now his rings are lost within the tide of water the brats produced. Hell I'd be pissed too.

The brats still not answered me and it's beginning to not only creep me the fuck out but piss me off too.

"OI! Did you hear me; the point is working on your movement not trying to drown us!"

"I wouldn't hurt Hayato" he tells me sincerely, and I can't help but agree he wouldn't, I still roll my eyes anyway.

I really shouldn't have done that.

It takes about a minuet for me to realise what happened. I remember standing knee deep in water, still with a firm grip on the kid's neck, which is really going to leave a mark by the way. The next I'm face first on the ground and the kids literally wrenched from my grasp. I whip round to do some heavy damage from that cowardly move only to find the brats sword in my face and his oversized dog growling in my face from the side. To that I give the mutt a dirty look followed by a deadpan stare to show him I don't give a fuck that he's trying to intimidate me.

I go to look back to the brat only to find that he's no longer looming over me, but instead carrying the kid away back to his corner where he'd been sitting earlier.

The kids yelling at him to put him down, which the brat eventually does after they reach the spot, as he does and the silver haired punk finds his feet again, brat pulls him into a strong and intimate hug. Words I don't catch are exchanged between them; however I do pick up on the feisty tail end of "I wasn't going to die idiot!" However the nick name is pronounced more softly than usual.

Brat goes to collect the fallen rings and then slides them back onto correct fingers. He gives the Kids neck a gentle stroke before apologizing with a guilty look. The kid glances away with a soft "it wasn't your fault"

After all the mushy crap is exchanged the brat pulls the kid away towards the door. He sends a particularly nasty look my way, and stills for a second probably wondering whether he should finish me off or not.

Kid catches on and a reverse happens as now it's him pulling brat away telling him softly that it's not worth it and he just wants to go home now.

The brat relents and allows himself to be tugged away, not however before lacing his fingers though the other set hanging close to his own.

Seriously, I don't know what they see in each other, but then again I don't see them though each other's eyes.