A/N: For those of you waiting for my other stories. I apologise, awhile back I lost all of my data and fell into a slump. Hopefully I can get back into it.

As for this one-shot, the chronology is... Weird because my mind decided to be that way. Aside from the first and last two scenes, the smut scenes go in reverse while the rest go forward. If that makes any sense.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story. It has been awhile since I posted an R27 smutty fic. :D

Obsession

It was supposed to be just a fling, really.

'Then why do you cling to him so desperately?'

Reborn growls at the voice in his head even as he tightens his grip on the body beside him possessively. He guesses he should finally admit that he's obsessed, but sometimes he just likes to fight every step of the way, even against himself.

The plane they are on rumbles with the turbulence.

"It's you again. Your steps are so silent, I barely hear a thing."

"Oh really? I'm surprised you hear anything."

"As long as your sound exists. I will hear it."

"What if it isn't there anymore?"

"Then I'll sing a song for your journey."

Reborn hums thoughtfully before pushing a note into the blind busker's hand, the one not holding up the guitar.

"Sing something you want to sing."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of you paying me?"

"No, I just want to watch you sing."

"Even though I can't watch you? How fair is that?"

Reborn smirks and runs a hand through soft chocolate brown locks, unable to help himself. "Just sing, the crowd is already gathering."

Addiction.

That is the only thing Reborn can describe this circumstance he has gotten himself into. He is a hitman, coming to Japan only for a job. He isn't really swayed by drugs, money nor position. He liked the thrill of killing a target, of proving his skills, but he is no psychopath, addicted to the deterioration of human life.

He presses his lips against the softer pair, swallowing the moan the brunet releases and slipping his tongue in. The brunet's pale naked body writhes and dances in tune with his own. Sweat glistens on their bodies as Reborn picks up the pace and the brunet claws at the covers beneath them in ecstasy.

Reborn never had a partner that he wanted again and again. He thought he would keep this a one time thing, at least that was what he thought the first time. And then, it became a week thing, and now, a month. Every single night, or day, or whenever Reborn felt like treating the brunet to a meal.

Staying in Japan for this long is not good, and Reborn is contemplating just taking the brunet with him. After all, the brunet is alone in this world, just like he is. Only those who have listened to the man's angelic singing will miss him.

"Reborn..."

He feels slim arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him down on top of the exhausted brunet. And then their lips were joined again in a kiss.

"You're actually handsome."

"Do I detect a tone of disbelief? I'll have you know my face is the envy of the world."

A snort. "Don't be so full of yoursel- oh, what's this?"

"My sideburns."

Laughter that lights up those pale orange eyes despite the late night lighting. "Really? They're so curly." Slim fingers continue to play with his hair. "I like them."

"Well, I like your eyes." Unable to help himself, Reborn pulls down the glasses to drop a kiss over an eyelid. He feels pleased as he detects the dark blush that dusts the brunet's cheeks.

"I-I should head home now. There's no one else here to listen to me sing." The brunet waves his arms out, indicating the deserted park around them.

"Sing a song just for me then."

Silence, before a low strum of the guitar permeates the air. "I'll sing a song I haven't sung since my mother died then..."

Pure heat rushes through his veins as Reborn growls and attacks the unmarked parts of the brunet's skin, eliciting soft whimpers and moans. There weren't many of those left now. He's already exhausted the brunet's voice from screaming in pleasure. And the brunet is drifting in and out of consciousness as Reborn begins the fifth round for that night.

He has never met anyone who sates him so well and at the same time, sparks that need for more.

"Reborn..." A hoarse voice calls. "...I blame you if I can't sing tomorrow."

The hitman grins. "I'll take full responsibility." Ah yes, he'd get to keep the brunet during the day today.

"So, is this what you do?"

Reborn freezes, and turns to find that brunet busker he'd taken an interest in standing at the entrance of the alleyway. He tightens his grip on his gun as the brunet steps forward but is surprised when the brunet does nothing more but stand beside him and look forward, Reborn's dead targets at their feet.

Bending down, the brunet reaches out, as if to touch them. But Reborn unconsciously grabs the brunet's shoulder, making him pause. "Their sound has stopped."

"Aren't you scared?" Reborn's voice is bland, empty.

"Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.

Benedicta tu in mulieribus..."

The hitman realises the brunet is singing a latin hymn.

"...ora pro nobis peccatoribus,

nunc et in hora mortis nostrae.

Amen."

"Why do you sing for them?"

"I'm not singing for them. I'm singing for you."

Reborn laughs, the sound is dry even to him. "I don't think any amount of praying will cleanse my sins."

"There's no harm in trying." The brunet straightens up, smiling gently at the hitman. "And I'm not scared of you."

Reborn glares, wondering why. Everyone else calls him a demon, a monster. "You'll regret saying that."

He turns, taking Reborn's hand and leading them out of the alleyway. "I won't!" He called over his shoulder. "Now, why don't you treat this poor busker to dinner."

"What poor busker?" Reborn rebuts in amusement. "You get more money than any of the others."

"Ah-!" The brunet pulls away, panting harshly as Reborn's cum spills over his face. The hitman tugs the brunet up and pulls their lips together, his other hand snaking down to slip between the brunet's plump cheeks to the twitching hole between. His partner is especially bold and needy tonight. Usually the brunet would just react and not initiate, which makes sense since Reborn is his first partner.

"N-not there..." The brunet pants, hands clinging weakly to Reborn's shoulders.

"Even though your body tells me otherwise?" The hitman teases, continuing to pump, and scissor the man.

"Nnn!" The brunet bites into Reborn's shoulder as the hitman enters without warning.

Reborn grunts, swearing. "God you're so tight even though I just had you yesterday."

Tears fall from pale orange unseeing eyes and a pale hand clings to that of the body at his side. A mouth opens and closes with the strains of a grief stricken song and yet the voice never wavers from its notes.

Reborn bends down next to the brunet, looking over the dead man. The male has silver hair and a cigarette still burns between his lips.

"He comes to hear me sing all the time and always put money in my case afterward..." Says the brunet when he finishes his song.

"He probably worked for some gang." Reborn states.

"I know... What do you expect when the yakuza and mafia have more control here than even the authorities? I just wish I asked for his name..." The brunet grips the hand that was fast going cold.

"It's Gokudera Hayato, according to this." Reborn reads from the man's ID, knowing the brunet can not see it.

"Gokudera...kun..."

"Police! Move out of the way!"

Reborn sighs as the moment is disrupted. He wraps an arm around the younger male, he's surprised when the brunet doesn't shrug him off and instead, leans into him.

Reborn looks around the park. The brunet doesn't seem to be in any of his regular spots but then, it is raining today.

Finally, he hears the familiar strum of a guitar and that beautiful voice in the constant downpour of rain. When he makes his way there, he finds that there are only a few of the regulars to listen to the brunet today and someone new. Someone Reborn recognises as the leader of one of the most violent and notorious of gangs in this city. Xanxus, of the Varia.

"Hey, what do you think of coming over to my place and offering some private sessions? The pay will be more than worth your while."

Reborn seethes. The brunet is his, he didn't want some pathetic gang leader taking him. He pauses in his thoughts as he wonders when he became so attached as to think the brunet belongs to him.

"I'm sorry... You're not the first to offer and definitely not the last for me to reject but I don't sing private for anyone unless I consider them precious."

Reborn blinks, is he supposed to take that to mean something? Now is not the time to think over that though, as he dashes forward and pulls the brunet back from the fist that comes flying toward him. "Don't act like a spoiled brat just because you can't get what you want," Reborn says, an underlining threat in his tone as he glares at the Varia leader.

"Fucktard." Xanxus growls before brandishing his gun. The crowd has dispersed long before Reborn came forward.

The hitman pulls his own gun out, letting his killing intent flow as he glares from under the shade of his fedora.

"Stop!"

Both men freeze as the brunet's voice reverberates deep within their minds. Suddenly, neither of them can move an inch, not even to open their mouths and voice their outrage. The brunet is glaring, his pale orange eyes flashing from where he is being hugged against Reborn's front. "Now, drop your guns."

The weapons drop with metallic clacks against the cement ground.

Reborn's eyes are wide, wondering what the fuck was going on, and he has no doubt that Xanxus is in the same position. It is like he has lost all control of his body aside from his eyes.

"Okay, good. Now don't go trying to kill each other in front of me unless you want me to do this again." The brunet says sternly, as if he were scolding naughty children. "Move."

Reborn suddenly finds himself in complete control of his limbs and so did Xanxus whose red eyes were glaring at the brunet. "What the fuck did you just do," he growled, not picking up his gun just yet.

"Oh nothing..." The brunet turns away, swinging his guitar case over his shoulder. "After all, I'm just an inconspicuous busker..."

"W-wait. Reborn-! I-I'm still not used to... Nngh!"

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle like the first time." The hitman smirks against a pale neck before moving down to suck on a hardened nipple, his hand is occupied with pumping the brunet's arousal.

"Y-you weren't that g-gen- Aahh-!" The brunet quickly bites into his own hand to muffle his voice.

"That's because you seemed to like it that way," Reborn says playfully as he moves onto the other nipple to bite and suck and tease at the fast reddening sensitive flesh. He wants to see how long the man under him can last without making a sound, and of course the brunet fails miserably as the next pump of Reborn's hand has him releasing in a hot white burst of pleasure.

"My voice is kind of special, I guess. If I put in the right intonation, I can make people do the things I say."

Reborn leans against the wall and takes a sip of the hotel coffee. "'Kind of special,'" he repeats sarcastically. "Is putting it lightly. You don't seem happy about it."

The brunet smiles wryly, hugging a pillow to his chest as he wiggles against the soft bed covers. His bed in the run down apartment he lives in does not come close to the comfort this bed offers. "I'm not... You probably think I'm innocent and naïve and haven't taken a single life before, but..."

Reborn is surprised at what the brunet is implying. "You've...killed someone before?"

"Yeah," the brunet says monotonously his orange eyes going paler than usual as he recalled his past. "It was so easy... That man, he was so scary, always coming home drunk and beating mum... One time, he- with me-" the brunet chokes before taking a deep breath and burying his face in his pillow. "I-I was so scared and so so angry at that bastard, I just...shouted for him to die... And he did."

Calloused hands run through soft brown locks, comforting despite the thin line of rage Reborn felt. "He's gone and won't came back. Isn't that for the best?"

"What kind of child was I, to kill my own father?"

Reborn stills, staring down at the male laying on the bed whose shoulders are shaking with guilt that has been locked inside since his childhood. A hand tugs at the fluffy brown hair, revealing the tear stricken face before a pair of lips descend onto soft ones.

"You were a kind child," Reborn whispers against the brunet's lips. "And you still are a kind and naïve man." He presses another kiss against the brunet's and is pleased as the brunet reciprocates.

That kiss soon turns into a burning hunger of teeth and tongue as Reborn rips the clothes off the brunet and realises the desire he has had ever since first setting eyes on the brunet.

"Reborn...?"

The hitman watches his lover wake without replying. A pale hand gets placed against the centre of his chest, feeling the beat of his heart.

"Where am I...?" The brunet's nose wiggles. Not recognising the familiar stench of smoke and pollution that is innate to the slums he has lived in since birth.

"Italy," Reborn states blandly, watching the brunet's reaction. "I kidnapped you."

Pale orange eyes widen. "W-why?"

"Because I'm obsessed with you." Reborn chuckles dryly. "Someone of my calibre, becoming obsessed. I didn't think I'd see the day."

The brunet sits up, angry. "How can you laugh? You didn't even ask me! You can't just take me away! What about my singing? And all those who finally see the light after listening to me?!"

Reborn takes one hand, avoiding the other fist that comes flying at him, and presses it again to his chest. "I. Am. Obsessed. Or can you not hear me anymore?"

The brunet stops, panting in exertion from his outburst. His eyes widening as he listens and feels the faster beat of the strong heart.

"I'll let you sing as much as you want. My place is close to a retirement home and I think the fresh air here will be good for you. There is less death and much less darkness here. Those were the only things tying you down before... Don't you want to be free?" Reborn's voice wavers little, but even to him it sounds too much like a plea:

Don't leave me.

"Reborn..." The brunet can't stay angry for long. Not when this man saved him from himself just like he has saved Reborn from his life of just killing. And as Reborn said, it wasn't like there was anything in Japan that truly tied him down. "If you give up this assassin bullcrap then I'll stay with you."

"Done." Reborn didn't feel like staining the soul that the brunet had purified with any more deaths.

"It's your fault I'm in love with you," the brunet grumbles, pouting.

Reborn can only smirk as he pulls the brunet into his arms. "Then it's your fault that I love you, Tsuna."

It happened like the flashes of a camera.

Tsuna, smiling at him as he is welcomed home after work at the university.

Flash

Tsuna, his beautiful pale orange eyes wide, blood coming from his lips, and a blade thrust through the centre of his chest.

Flash

The malicious violet eyes of the man standing behind the brunet, smiling wide as if he were seeing the most amusing thing ever.

Flash

More men, inside their home. Their home, the one they'd been together in for over a year.

Flash

Red. Red. Red.

Their home painted in the crimson throes of blood and flesh. An old gun, familiar yet foreign weighed in his hand. His other wrapped protectively around the body of his love, as he gazes down at the pale face.

"Ave Maria... gratia plena... Domin- fuck, how did it go again?" He shakes his head in frustration. "God dammit, I can't even sing properly. I-I'm sorry Tsuna..."

"...Sancta Maria, Mater Dei,

ora pro nobis peccatoribus,

nunc et in hora mortis nostrae.

Amen..."

He stares as those blood stained lips turn up in a smile.

"I love you, Reborn..."

And the life slips out of his lover, those eyes which usually shine becoming hollow and blank.

Sitting alone in his blood strained home, a former hitman cries for his lost love and vows to find him again in the afterlife even if he ends up on the other side.

A/N: I'm stickler for both tragic love and fluffy love, so what do I choose? Why both, of course. Mua ha ha ha ha.

Sorry if Reborn seems too nice, in here he never had to become the harsh tutor whipping a young cowardly boy into shape. He's supposed to be more civil and a 'gentleman'. *cough*

Also, the 'song' is, in truth, a prayer. I'm not very religious so I'm sorry if the use seems inappropriate.

I'd appreciate any and all reviews. :D