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The underground bunker, once they've got all the lights on, is mildly dusty, worn out in spite of the fact that it couldn't have been more than a few years that it was made, and, when Tsuna opens up the pantries, pretty damn barren.
If he wanted, he's sure he could wax poetic about it being a reflection of the way all three of them feel... but he thinks he'll pass. Sure, it's true- they've long abandoned one of the traditional Vongola strongholds for this hopefully temporary life on the run. It's a transitional sort of thing, he tells himself, even though he can feel the Millefiore's teeth nipping on their heels. All they have to do is not die on transit to another Vongola stronghold, and they'll be fine. Tsuna tells himself this regularly, firmly, on account of having gotten a little better at not panicking at every little inconvenience.
Alright, so maybe this isn't just a little convenience, like confessing to a cute person that he likes, but, still. That means he's not going to pull a Mukuro Rokudo, going on about the inevitable cruelty of man or the emptiness of... whatever. Tsuna would like to call it optimism, if only that he's a little certain that it's more him being stubborn.
"The more palatable kind of optimism," Reborn would say, and Tsuna stops his mind in its tracks right there. He can't think about Reborn right now.
What he can do is what he's been doing for the past few weeks: forge on and check on what he can. For right now, in his current situation, what he can check up is what's around his immediate person. The kitchen area is small and sparse, with only the most bare necessities for food and utensils alike. Tsuna has to admit that it's not exactly his best work, for super secret bases hidden in what look like collapsed buildings in the Italian countryside and forests... It's certainly nothing like the space he has over in Namimori or that the Iron Fortress is like. That doesn't matter. It's good enough for the night with enough that can have them ready for the next day and, more importantly, will keep them alive for the next day.
The Millefiore would certainly love to take out the Vongola's Right and Left Hands, not even mentioning their precious tenth boss that keeps the rest of the Family going. Tsuna won't give them the satisfaction of being able to touch Hayato and Takeshi. Him? Well, that's...
As he's in the middle of checking the wiring on their stove, a pair of hands press against his shoulders so feather-light as to not exist. Tsuna cranes his head back, which is wholly necessary considering how tall Takeshi is in comparison to even a person with regular height, let alone someone like Tsuna who has apparently barely grown an inch since they first met. "Hey," he says quietly, up towards his taller partner. "How are you doing?" Maybe it's a silly kind of question, to ask when they've spent a good part of the day taking small backpaths and hiding in the thick crowds of larger one... but it's a question Tsuna feels he has to ask often when he's surrounded by people like Chrome, who hides her thoughts beneath a quiet layer of fog, or Hibari, someone inclined to leave a room instead of let people see him behaving honestly...
Or Takeshi, who manages to smile down at him even as Tsuna knows the death of his father by Millefiore hands must be eating alive at him.
"Pretty hungry, honestly!" he says cheerfully, which is such a redirection that Tsuna thinks he would stomp on his foot if he had a more combustible temper. Fortunately, he doesn't need to have a combustible temper.
That's what Hayato is for, elbowing Takeshi sharply in the spine as he comes in to further crowd the already minuscule space. Takeshi grunts, bumping into Tsuna from the force of it although he doubts it was that strong of a hit anyway. "That's not what he asked," Hayato snaps, not because he's actually angry (not really), but because he's been off a nicotine fix for weeks now and it's not like any of them could stop in a candy store for the proxy of lemon drops.
"Ha ha." With a laugh a little too light and far too hollow, Takeshi keeps his smile on even as his gaze flickers away. Sometimes, Tsuna knows, it's hard to keep up the act when some people just insist on barreling through it. "I guess not."
Any second now, a fight is going to start up. Tsuna can feel it, hairs pricking upwards on the back of his neck. Hyper Intuition isn't really a visual thing; it doesn't blare out bright neon paths detailing how things are going to happen. It's more like an extra sense, or his current senses cranked up past their limit. Right now, the sense getting the worst of it would have to be... his taste, he thinks. With every breath he takes, he can feel on his tongue how thick the tension surrounding the three of them is, bitter and rough from Hayato's stress, soft and numb with Takeshi's grief. They're valid feelings, and he can't blame either of his two partners for having them. It's just... The entire world, their world, is already filled with so much of it already. He's not sure if he can deal with more of the same, just with words instead of weapons, in a spot of safety for them, with two of the people he loves most in the world. Before it can get any worse, he has to stop it where it is.
"When's the last time we had sex together?" he asks bluntly.
There are, he has to say, other ways he could probably defuse a situation like this... but none of them would be quite as funny, allowing him to watch Hayato choke on his own spit in surprise or listen to Takeshi's startled burst of genuine laughter. "What," Hayato says once he's recovered, barely able to be heard over the sound of Takeshi's still ongoing laughter. Lightly, Tsuna thwaps at the swordsman's side to signal him to quiet down, really, anytime now.
Probably Tsuna shouldn't say the words so lightly. In fact, it might be an idea to consider dredging up a little bit of shame, or maybe a teaspoon of modesty. Unfortunately, he's pretty sure his reserves of that ran out a long time ago. A good chunk of it when he had to deal with the reality of occasionally running around in nothing but his boxer shorts because some bullets in the world are just inherently flawed, and then the remainder of all of that when he had to take up the role of Vongola's boss, a position which means dealing with sex work at least a little. If neither of those took care of it, well, Tsuna is pretty sure that getting two boyfriends who are, at times, very competitive about even bedroom life mopped up any leftovers. So he manages to smile, just a little bit, and repeats himself. "When's the last time we had sex together? The three of us have been stuck so closely together now for so long-" He pointedly doesn't mention why that currently is. "-but I feel like we haven't even kissed in ages."
"You kissed me just before we opened the hidden entrance down here," Takeshi points out, a lot more actual amusement in his voice now than a couple of minutes ago.
"Maybe, but that's not what it feels like." While Hayato is still reeling over the conversation that's apparently happening right now, Tsuna tugs on Takeshi's shirt. It has that minute resistance, from where its clung to the sweat of his body from all the heat and movement. "Takeshi, help me up."
As abrupt as this change in conversation is, Tsuna doesn't regret it. He can't possibly, when he sees some of the miserable exhaustion ease out of Takeshi's eyes over his smile. "Whatever you say, Boss," he tells him, laughing as he bends over to haul Tsuna up into his arms. He wobbles, a little bit, partially because Takeshi is tired, partially because Tsuna is still struggling to find a grip along his shoulders, but they make it work.
Hayato finally seems to get a grip on himself, although it's a little too late considering Tsuna's fingers are curling into his hair. "I thought you two were hungry," he mutters, although he doesn't stop Tsuna.
"I mean, it's a kind of hunger," Takeshi says from behind Tsuna, voice bubbling with laughter, and some of Tsuna's own flutters out from his mouth before his lips meet Hayato's.
Like every other kiss they've shared between them, it's soft and slow, just not completely right. There's no tinge of mint, from Hayato's constant attempts to scrub the much more common taste of nicotine out of his mouth. There's no near-sweet sourness from lemon candies. All it is is the simple taste of, well, himself. While the reason for that isn't something to be particularly glad of, Tsuna savors the moment anyway as best he can. Getting through a war, he's found, means finding a lot of little things to care about and love in order to manage the big things.
Danielle learned that herself, once upon a time, he thinks. Hayato clearly gets it to, fingers creeping up to ghost along the curve of Tsuna's jaw and resting right over his heart. There are a lot of things to love about him, physical and otherwise, but his fingers are definitely towards the top of the list. Times like this, where they're so softly grazing his skin as to not exist, he thanks whatever divine entity might exist in the world that Hayato never accidentally blew his fingers off in his adolescence. That would truly have been a waste.
Yet even as he's kissing Hayato, noses brushing with every shift of their head, Tsuna is more than aware of the slow and measured way Takeshi's own fingers knead into their hold on him. Without looking, he can imagine perfectly the quiet intensity in his eyes, where all his focus is watching every single little movement. It's an expression he knows very well. In fact, it's an expression Hayato knows very well, too. It shows when he pulls out of the kiss, gaze roaming over to where Takeshi is over Tsuna's shoulder, and he pulls in a sharp quiet breath as if he's sucking in smoke.
If Tsuna is smiling, well, he likes to think no one can blame him. He's pretty sure there's no way anyone could blame him, if it means circumventing an argument. "Come on," he says, slipping his hand out of Hayato's hair so that he can tug on his shirt. Takeshi is still holding him up with absolute ease, because Takeshi is one of those people who thinks being around Superbi Squalo is fun and could thus survive an attack from God, probably. Holding up a very short mafia boss is no sweat, regardless of how much muscle that mafia boss has. "We've made it this far. Let's get comfortable."
As it turns out, trying to have a threesome in a bunker is, well. Let's just say they weren't designed for such things, which Tsuna suspects was a design flaw on his part. Sure, they could all just start getting handsy right there in what minuscule living space there is. It just sounds like a pretty bad idea to him, one which courts tripping, or bruising against concrete, or fumbling as they try to figure out how to touch the other two at the same time. That last one is especially troublesome even on good days; let no one say that polyamory is easy in the bedroom. As they're in the middle of dragging the mattresses out of the bunk beds which are squeezed into what could arguably be called a room of its own right, Takeshi pauses for a second and just watches the two of them. Tsuna almost misses this fact, struggling with a mattress not for lack of strength but rather lack of reach, when Hayato catches on himself. "Hey, are you going to make us do all the work, baseball freak?"
Once upon a time, when they were all younger and more rough around the edges, the nickname was an accusation and an insult, neither which ever actually penetrated as far as Tsuna could tell. Nowadays, however, there's something almost clumsily fond wrapped around the words, like a little kid wrapping a present for the first time. It's the same fumbling awkward way Hayato says Tsuna's own actual name, instead of the title that he so insistently called after him with. Every time he hears either name, Tsuna smiles a little bit from how the affection is too much to hold back.
He won't regret fighting for these things, no matter what... even if he suspects it might hurt regardless.
Takeshi laughs again, although this time at least he's not trying so hard. "I was just thinking about something," he says.
With a grunt, Tsuna finally hauls a mattress out of its space and begins dragging it out the door. "Like what?" he asks, elbow bumping into Hayato's butt. The taller man huffs at him a little bit, smiling despite himself, and hop-edges over the mattress before it gets stuck between him and the doorway.
Another laugh, quieter but more genuine. A good one. Despite that, Takeshi doesn't answer them right away, and continue to watch as Tsuna easily tosses the mattress into what empty floor space that's available. "I was thinking of trying something," he says at last, and startles only a little when Hayato flips a mattress at him. Catching he, he grins at little at Hayato's scowl and obligingly picks up his half so that the two of them can work together in moving it. "But only if the two of you would be interested."
Tsuna presses himself up against a wall so that he's out of the way himself, small enough to manage it, and cocks his head curiously at Takeshi. Hayato is a lot more vocal in moving the conversation along. "We can't be interested if we don't know what it is," he says, brushing against Tsuna before he can toss the mattress down besides the other one. Two mattresses, side by side, ought to be more than enough for a threesome in general, and surely enough for whatever Takeshi is thinking of, right?
As it turns out, what Takeshi is thinking of is... "Ha, well, fair! Then what do you guys think about bondage?"
It really is a very good time for Hayato to have been forced to stop smoking, considering the brand new strangled noise he makes in the very back of his throat. "Did you start this whole thing off, then? Is this all your fault?" he asks accusingly not of Tsuna, but of Takeshi. As if Tsuna has never had a sexual thought, or in fact been on top of both of the more than once. It might be a joke because of that, although Hayato feigns offense very easily. When Takeshi just laughs at him, forced to lean against a wall lest he fall over, Hayato snorts and rubs his fingers across the lower half of his face. Takeshi might be laughing too hard to stand up straight, but Tsuna is perfectly free to watch the water their boyfriend's elegant fingers roll over his lips. "Do we even have anything we can use to tie one another up?"
With that sly glint to his eyes people occasionally miss, Takeshi only grins. Hayato is quick witted a lot of the time, but he's tired right now. That's probably the reason why it takes him a second where the pieces only click into place once he looks over to see Tsuna tugging at his tie experimentally.
"...Oh."
The black suit-and-tie wear which is so common in the mafia world comes in handy for the three of them, with the little strips of cloth just enough to act as effective blindfolds. Once they're stripped completely, Tsuna and Hayato, the makeshift blindfolds almost feel strange as the only thing they wear. It makes their temporary blindness all the more notable, although Tsuna feels it must be different for him compared to how it is for others. With his sight gone, every other sense is put into high alert, and his intuition doesn't let a thing slip by it. The worn out smell of toffee that always seems to cling to Hayato as the other's body moves beneath him, the assassin quiet movements of Takeshi as he moves around them... Willing and pliable, Tsuna gladly allows him to bind his and Hayato's wrists together. Maybe there aren't a lot of people they can trust in this world, but the two he can always rely on are the two men he's inbetween right now.
If only he knew he could actually trust them so completely himself, but there are some secrets that need to be kept. At least, for right now.
So he lets Takeshi have his secrets too, and doesn't ask why his hands roam against their skin so slowly without any rush to them. So slow, Tsuna can feel every single dip and crease along his palms. There's the callouses from hours of hard work playing baseball, the scars that come with handling blades... He could be rough, if he wanted, but Tsuna knows that he wouldn't ever be. Takeshi's hands and Hayato's personality share that in common, when it comes to the two people they love most in the world. So Tsuna doesn't ask why he goes so slow, doesn't join in on Hayato's impatient and breathless grumblings beneath him on why Takeshi is taking so long.
Tsuna is pretty sure he already knows why.
With the two of them tied like this, together, in place, he can't lose either of them, leaving an incomplete trinity. His hands confirm their existence, their place, here with him, warm and alive and there. Surely even Hayato's grumbling- and all the other more softer noises that are drawn out after thanks to Takeshi's familiarity with their bodies- is reassuring in some way. It must be, considering the smile Tsuna feels pressed briefly into his spine.
None of them have a lot of control these days. Honestly, control has always been a sketchy sort of thing for a long time with all three of them ever since they were fourteen, but it's always been manageable. It's always something they could confront, as individuals part of a small little group: learning how to wield a sword, creating new things, getting stronger. The threats had also been in chunks, something each of them could handle. They were almost... upfront challenges, in that way.
They weren't dealing with a threat that would track down the owner of a simple little family sushi restaurant, and leave his body cold and bloody there among the tables.
So Tsuna won't question Takeshi controlling them exactly as he wishes: the positioning, the binding, how fast or slow he goes in coaxing soft noises out of Hayato and him both. All he does is surrender to it, doing his best to wipe the darker thoughts out of his head. All he needs right now are the two men he's with:
Hayato, beneath him, besides him, their foreheads brushing, blindfolds catching, every breath shared between them sweet even when they're not gasping in pleasure.
Takeshi, behind him, sturdy as a bat, straight as any throw from his hand, mapping out the curves of their bodies in a way that ensures he'll never forget them.
Release comes slow for Tsuna, with how Takeshi savors every little second he can, but it does come, and it leaves him shivering throughout the whole process. When Takeshi finally undoes the blindfold from around his eyes, Tsuna has to blink the light of the world into something manageable so that he can better look down upon Hayato's face. It's a pretty good view, honestly, even if Hayato's eyes are still hidden behind a black tie. They're one of his best features. Then again, he has a lot of pretty good ones. He enjoys it all the way to the mattress as Takeshi gently lays him down, untying one hand from where it was bond to Hayato's. That still leaves one pair tied, of course, and that's fine. Wiggling to be a little more comfortable against the mattress since not a single one of them had the foresight to get the pillows, Tsuna smiles dopily.
Hayato can't see him, but, well, he is a little bit splattered all across his stomach and a little further upwards. That's more than enough to have him tilt his head to where he can no doubt feel Tsuna laying. "You're always so quiet," he says breathlessly, pale cheeks flushed a gaudy red underneath the blindfold. They match his flame, his most innate one.
"Unlike Hayato, who gets heard from floors below!" Takeshi chirps cheerfully, even while adjusting himself to be inbetween Hayato's legs, his hands resting along the knees.
"You know what, go fuaAH!"
Tsuna bursts out laughing at the interruption, so loud that he manages to drown out the sound of Hayato's moans, or the way Takeshi swallows. He laughs until his stomach hurts, because he can, and he's glad for it. Sure, Hayato nudges his foot with his once Takeshi has soundly removed himself, but such a little bit of protest is worth it. When Hayato's own blindfold is removed, Tsuna makes sure the first thing he gets to see is his smile. Hayato smiles back, up until Tsuna says, "He's right, you know."
Promptly, Hayato's face twists into a sulking scowl, although Tsuna can tell that it's about 75% exaggerated. After a decade of being with him, he's learned to find out all the littlest details when it concerns his two boyfriends. That, too, might be a good chunk of intuition. "This is unfair," he mutters.
Takeshi kneels between them, humming while he undoes the knots keeping their wrists tied. "You just say that because you still can't say 'no' to Tsuna."
It's a little hard to argue against that, considering it's true. Yet a little bit of healthy bickering has always been the core aspect of his and Takeshi's relationship, so Hayato of course has to give it a try. "You have both of us tied up, and I'm being ganged up on-"
"We didn't exactly try that," Takeshi murmurs, eyes sparkling. "But we can if you're up for another round." He gets a knee to his hip for the trouble of the innuendo, and laughs again.
With his hand free, Tsuna makes a face even as he starts to roll his wrists around to make sure they're not too sore. Takeshi is good at knot tying, a talent that could be either Varia quality or sports quality, and so there's no reason to worry too much about any damage... But it's good to stretch a little anyway. While their hands are important for all of them, Tsuna's especially are his primary weapons. "I'll pass. I have no idea how you could keep going after that."
Hayato is still kneeing the side of Takeshi's hip. "Well, this freak has always had way too much-" Whatever else he could say about Takeshi's energy is interrupted as the swordsman grabs his leg and flips him over, drawing out a squawk.
"Anyway," he continues, testing how stable his legs are, "weren't we talking about doing food, first? We just got sidetracked."
"I wonder who suggested the sidetracking," Hayato grunts, trying to wrestle his ankle out of Takeshi's grip. The latter can't stop grinning.
Tsuna ignores him. "I'll get some food heated up, so try not to tire yourselves out and fall asleep first, alright?" That has Takeshi look over at him.
"You don't have to. I'll do it. It's just some basic preparation, right?"
He's not wrong. Still, Tsuna shakes his head. "No, it's fine. Anyway, it looks like you two are having too much fun." Even as he says it, Hayato kicks a foot into Takeshi's stomach to force his attention back onto him. "And I'd rather not get my head accidentally kicked because the two of you are so absorbed in that kind of fun."
There's a faint sound of acknowledgment from Takeshi, but he's a lot more preoccupied with trying to pin Hayato to the mattress. A trained swordsman who can hold his own against the Varia's best versus an explosives expert who spent most of his teenage years going against other mafia and scrapping in alleys. Surprisingly, it could be anyone's win... Well, besides Tsuna, who pushes himself up to his feet with a fond smile at the pair of them.
Yeah. This is how it should be.
This is what's at stake... and what he might be leaving behind.
The thought weighs on Tsuna even as he tosses some canned food into a pot for a sturdy enough meal, and stays with him all the way to when he remembers to get his clothing on halfway through. There's a war raging outside the small shelter they've got to themselves for the time being and, in the path ahead, there's an opening he knows he can't afford to waste. Irie Shoichi... Tsuna doesn't even have to think twice on if the other man will have made it, not when Hibari Kyoya is the one guiding him. Maybe that's better, maybe that's worse. If it was anyone else, he could worry on that first step ahead of him... But, no. He needs all the time he can get, to think on what it might mean for his promise to be true. They've taken so many hits in this war, lost so many lives, lost so many people who should never have even gotten involved...
It can't be allowed to continue on. It can't.
His brief and secretive correspondence with Irie had given one warning: This is a last ditch plan. I can't promise that no other lives will be lost. Especially yours.
That would be a more worrisome warning, if this whole thing wasn't at threat for his life and, worse, a threat for the lives of everyone he's ever cared about in this enormous family that he's both crafted and inherited. It's selfish, he knows this as he looks over at Takeshi and Hayato finally settling down against the mattresses... but he'd rather him be lost than the two of them. Than anyone.
But that's in the future. He reminds himself of this, poking at the rough approximation of a soup that's in the pot. That is a problem for "five-days-later" Tsuna. For him now, for the Tsuna in the present...
The Tsuna in the present just brings over some soup to two of the people he loves most in the world, and teases them about hot soup burning their still naked bodies.
If he wanted, he's sure he could wax poetic about it being a reflection of the way all three of them feel... but he thinks he'll pass. Sure, it's true- they've long abandoned one of the traditional Vongola strongholds for this hopefully temporary life on the run. It's a transitional sort of thing, he tells himself, even though he can feel the Millefiore's teeth nipping on their heels. All they have to do is not die on transit to another Vongola stronghold, and they'll be fine. Tsuna tells himself this regularly, firmly, on account of having gotten a little better at not panicking at every little inconvenience.
Alright, so maybe this isn't just a little convenience, like confessing to a cute person that he likes, but, still. That means he's not going to pull a Mukuro Rokudo, going on about the inevitable cruelty of man or the emptiness of... whatever. Tsuna would like to call it optimism, if only that he's a little certain that it's more him being stubborn.
"The more palatable kind of optimism," Reborn would say, and Tsuna stops his mind in its tracks right there. He can't think about Reborn right now.
What he can do is what he's been doing for the past few weeks: forge on and check on what he can. For right now, in his current situation, what he can check up is what's around his immediate person. The kitchen area is small and sparse, with only the most bare necessities for food and utensils alike. Tsuna has to admit that it's not exactly his best work, for super secret bases hidden in what look like collapsed buildings in the Italian countryside and forests... It's certainly nothing like the space he has over in Namimori or that the Iron Fortress is like. That doesn't matter. It's good enough for the night with enough that can have them ready for the next day and, more importantly, will keep them alive for the next day.
The Millefiore would certainly love to take out the Vongola's Right and Left Hands, not even mentioning their precious tenth boss that keeps the rest of the Family going. Tsuna won't give them the satisfaction of being able to touch Hayato and Takeshi. Him? Well, that's...
As he's in the middle of checking the wiring on their stove, a pair of hands press against his shoulders so feather-light as to not exist. Tsuna cranes his head back, which is wholly necessary considering how tall Takeshi is in comparison to even a person with regular height, let alone someone like Tsuna who has apparently barely grown an inch since they first met. "Hey," he says quietly, up towards his taller partner. "How are you doing?" Maybe it's a silly kind of question, to ask when they've spent a good part of the day taking small backpaths and hiding in the thick crowds of larger one... but it's a question Tsuna feels he has to ask often when he's surrounded by people like Chrome, who hides her thoughts beneath a quiet layer of fog, or Hibari, someone inclined to leave a room instead of let people see him behaving honestly...
Or Takeshi, who manages to smile down at him even as Tsuna knows the death of his father by Millefiore hands must be eating alive at him.
"Pretty hungry, honestly!" he says cheerfully, which is such a redirection that Tsuna thinks he would stomp on his foot if he had a more combustible temper. Fortunately, he doesn't need to have a combustible temper.
That's what Hayato is for, elbowing Takeshi sharply in the spine as he comes in to further crowd the already minuscule space. Takeshi grunts, bumping into Tsuna from the force of it although he doubts it was that strong of a hit anyway. "That's not what he asked," Hayato snaps, not because he's actually angry (not really), but because he's been off a nicotine fix for weeks now and it's not like any of them could stop in a candy store for the proxy of lemon drops.
"Ha ha." With a laugh a little too light and far too hollow, Takeshi keeps his smile on even as his gaze flickers away. Sometimes, Tsuna knows, it's hard to keep up the act when some people just insist on barreling through it. "I guess not."
Any second now, a fight is going to start up. Tsuna can feel it, hairs pricking upwards on the back of his neck. Hyper Intuition isn't really a visual thing; it doesn't blare out bright neon paths detailing how things are going to happen. It's more like an extra sense, or his current senses cranked up past their limit. Right now, the sense getting the worst of it would have to be... his taste, he thinks. With every breath he takes, he can feel on his tongue how thick the tension surrounding the three of them is, bitter and rough from Hayato's stress, soft and numb with Takeshi's grief. They're valid feelings, and he can't blame either of his two partners for having them. It's just... The entire world, their world, is already filled with so much of it already. He's not sure if he can deal with more of the same, just with words instead of weapons, in a spot of safety for them, with two of the people he loves most in the world. Before it can get any worse, he has to stop it where it is.
"When's the last time we had sex together?" he asks bluntly.
There are, he has to say, other ways he could probably defuse a situation like this... but none of them would be quite as funny, allowing him to watch Hayato choke on his own spit in surprise or listen to Takeshi's startled burst of genuine laughter. "What," Hayato says once he's recovered, barely able to be heard over the sound of Takeshi's still ongoing laughter. Lightly, Tsuna thwaps at the swordsman's side to signal him to quiet down, really, anytime now.
Probably Tsuna shouldn't say the words so lightly. In fact, it might be an idea to consider dredging up a little bit of shame, or maybe a teaspoon of modesty. Unfortunately, he's pretty sure his reserves of that ran out a long time ago. A good chunk of it when he had to deal with the reality of occasionally running around in nothing but his boxer shorts because some bullets in the world are just inherently flawed, and then the remainder of all of that when he had to take up the role of Vongola's boss, a position which means dealing with sex work at least a little. If neither of those took care of it, well, Tsuna is pretty sure that getting two boyfriends who are, at times, very competitive about even bedroom life mopped up any leftovers. So he manages to smile, just a little bit, and repeats himself. "When's the last time we had sex together? The three of us have been stuck so closely together now for so long-" He pointedly doesn't mention why that currently is. "-but I feel like we haven't even kissed in ages."
"You kissed me just before we opened the hidden entrance down here," Takeshi points out, a lot more actual amusement in his voice now than a couple of minutes ago.
"Maybe, but that's not what it feels like." While Hayato is still reeling over the conversation that's apparently happening right now, Tsuna tugs on Takeshi's shirt. It has that minute resistance, from where its clung to the sweat of his body from all the heat and movement. "Takeshi, help me up."
As abrupt as this change in conversation is, Tsuna doesn't regret it. He can't possibly, when he sees some of the miserable exhaustion ease out of Takeshi's eyes over his smile. "Whatever you say, Boss," he tells him, laughing as he bends over to haul Tsuna up into his arms. He wobbles, a little bit, partially because Takeshi is tired, partially because Tsuna is still struggling to find a grip along his shoulders, but they make it work.
Hayato finally seems to get a grip on himself, although it's a little too late considering Tsuna's fingers are curling into his hair. "I thought you two were hungry," he mutters, although he doesn't stop Tsuna.
"I mean, it's a kind of hunger," Takeshi says from behind Tsuna, voice bubbling with laughter, and some of Tsuna's own flutters out from his mouth before his lips meet Hayato's.
Like every other kiss they've shared between them, it's soft and slow, just not completely right. There's no tinge of mint, from Hayato's constant attempts to scrub the much more common taste of nicotine out of his mouth. There's no near-sweet sourness from lemon candies. All it is is the simple taste of, well, himself. While the reason for that isn't something to be particularly glad of, Tsuna savors the moment anyway as best he can. Getting through a war, he's found, means finding a lot of little things to care about and love in order to manage the big things.
Danielle learned that herself, once upon a time, he thinks. Hayato clearly gets it to, fingers creeping up to ghost along the curve of Tsuna's jaw and resting right over his heart. There are a lot of things to love about him, physical and otherwise, but his fingers are definitely towards the top of the list. Times like this, where they're so softly grazing his skin as to not exist, he thanks whatever divine entity might exist in the world that Hayato never accidentally blew his fingers off in his adolescence. That would truly have been a waste.
Yet even as he's kissing Hayato, noses brushing with every shift of their head, Tsuna is more than aware of the slow and measured way Takeshi's own fingers knead into their hold on him. Without looking, he can imagine perfectly the quiet intensity in his eyes, where all his focus is watching every single little movement. It's an expression he knows very well. In fact, it's an expression Hayato knows very well, too. It shows when he pulls out of the kiss, gaze roaming over to where Takeshi is over Tsuna's shoulder, and he pulls in a sharp quiet breath as if he's sucking in smoke.
If Tsuna is smiling, well, he likes to think no one can blame him. He's pretty sure there's no way anyone could blame him, if it means circumventing an argument. "Come on," he says, slipping his hand out of Hayato's hair so that he can tug on his shirt. Takeshi is still holding him up with absolute ease, because Takeshi is one of those people who thinks being around Superbi Squalo is fun and could thus survive an attack from God, probably. Holding up a very short mafia boss is no sweat, regardless of how much muscle that mafia boss has. "We've made it this far. Let's get comfortable."
As it turns out, trying to have a threesome in a bunker is, well. Let's just say they weren't designed for such things, which Tsuna suspects was a design flaw on his part. Sure, they could all just start getting handsy right there in what minuscule living space there is. It just sounds like a pretty bad idea to him, one which courts tripping, or bruising against concrete, or fumbling as they try to figure out how to touch the other two at the same time. That last one is especially troublesome even on good days; let no one say that polyamory is easy in the bedroom. As they're in the middle of dragging the mattresses out of the bunk beds which are squeezed into what could arguably be called a room of its own right, Takeshi pauses for a second and just watches the two of them. Tsuna almost misses this fact, struggling with a mattress not for lack of strength but rather lack of reach, when Hayato catches on himself. "Hey, are you going to make us do all the work, baseball freak?"
Once upon a time, when they were all younger and more rough around the edges, the nickname was an accusation and an insult, neither which ever actually penetrated as far as Tsuna could tell. Nowadays, however, there's something almost clumsily fond wrapped around the words, like a little kid wrapping a present for the first time. It's the same fumbling awkward way Hayato says Tsuna's own actual name, instead of the title that he so insistently called after him with. Every time he hears either name, Tsuna smiles a little bit from how the affection is too much to hold back.
He won't regret fighting for these things, no matter what... even if he suspects it might hurt regardless.
Takeshi laughs again, although this time at least he's not trying so hard. "I was just thinking about something," he says.
With a grunt, Tsuna finally hauls a mattress out of its space and begins dragging it out the door. "Like what?" he asks, elbow bumping into Hayato's butt. The taller man huffs at him a little bit, smiling despite himself, and hop-edges over the mattress before it gets stuck between him and the doorway.
Another laugh, quieter but more genuine. A good one. Despite that, Takeshi doesn't answer them right away, and continue to watch as Tsuna easily tosses the mattress into what empty floor space that's available. "I was thinking of trying something," he says at last, and startles only a little when Hayato flips a mattress at him. Catching he, he grins at little at Hayato's scowl and obligingly picks up his half so that the two of them can work together in moving it. "But only if the two of you would be interested."
Tsuna presses himself up against a wall so that he's out of the way himself, small enough to manage it, and cocks his head curiously at Takeshi. Hayato is a lot more vocal in moving the conversation along. "We can't be interested if we don't know what it is," he says, brushing against Tsuna before he can toss the mattress down besides the other one. Two mattresses, side by side, ought to be more than enough for a threesome in general, and surely enough for whatever Takeshi is thinking of, right?
As it turns out, what Takeshi is thinking of is... "Ha, well, fair! Then what do you guys think about bondage?"
It really is a very good time for Hayato to have been forced to stop smoking, considering the brand new strangled noise he makes in the very back of his throat. "Did you start this whole thing off, then? Is this all your fault?" he asks accusingly not of Tsuna, but of Takeshi. As if Tsuna has never had a sexual thought, or in fact been on top of both of the more than once. It might be a joke because of that, although Hayato feigns offense very easily. When Takeshi just laughs at him, forced to lean against a wall lest he fall over, Hayato snorts and rubs his fingers across the lower half of his face. Takeshi might be laughing too hard to stand up straight, but Tsuna is perfectly free to watch the water their boyfriend's elegant fingers roll over his lips. "Do we even have anything we can use to tie one another up?"
With that sly glint to his eyes people occasionally miss, Takeshi only grins. Hayato is quick witted a lot of the time, but he's tired right now. That's probably the reason why it takes him a second where the pieces only click into place once he looks over to see Tsuna tugging at his tie experimentally.
"...Oh."
The black suit-and-tie wear which is so common in the mafia world comes in handy for the three of them, with the little strips of cloth just enough to act as effective blindfolds. Once they're stripped completely, Tsuna and Hayato, the makeshift blindfolds almost feel strange as the only thing they wear. It makes their temporary blindness all the more notable, although Tsuna feels it must be different for him compared to how it is for others. With his sight gone, every other sense is put into high alert, and his intuition doesn't let a thing slip by it. The worn out smell of toffee that always seems to cling to Hayato as the other's body moves beneath him, the assassin quiet movements of Takeshi as he moves around them... Willing and pliable, Tsuna gladly allows him to bind his and Hayato's wrists together. Maybe there aren't a lot of people they can trust in this world, but the two he can always rely on are the two men he's inbetween right now.
If only he knew he could actually trust them so completely himself, but there are some secrets that need to be kept. At least, for right now.
So he lets Takeshi have his secrets too, and doesn't ask why his hands roam against their skin so slowly without any rush to them. So slow, Tsuna can feel every single dip and crease along his palms. There's the callouses from hours of hard work playing baseball, the scars that come with handling blades... He could be rough, if he wanted, but Tsuna knows that he wouldn't ever be. Takeshi's hands and Hayato's personality share that in common, when it comes to the two people they love most in the world. So Tsuna doesn't ask why he goes so slow, doesn't join in on Hayato's impatient and breathless grumblings beneath him on why Takeshi is taking so long.
Tsuna is pretty sure he already knows why.
With the two of them tied like this, together, in place, he can't lose either of them, leaving an incomplete trinity. His hands confirm their existence, their place, here with him, warm and alive and there. Surely even Hayato's grumbling- and all the other more softer noises that are drawn out after thanks to Takeshi's familiarity with their bodies- is reassuring in some way. It must be, considering the smile Tsuna feels pressed briefly into his spine.
None of them have a lot of control these days. Honestly, control has always been a sketchy sort of thing for a long time with all three of them ever since they were fourteen, but it's always been manageable. It's always something they could confront, as individuals part of a small little group: learning how to wield a sword, creating new things, getting stronger. The threats had also been in chunks, something each of them could handle. They were almost... upfront challenges, in that way.
They weren't dealing with a threat that would track down the owner of a simple little family sushi restaurant, and leave his body cold and bloody there among the tables.
So Tsuna won't question Takeshi controlling them exactly as he wishes: the positioning, the binding, how fast or slow he goes in coaxing soft noises out of Hayato and him both. All he does is surrender to it, doing his best to wipe the darker thoughts out of his head. All he needs right now are the two men he's with:
Hayato, beneath him, besides him, their foreheads brushing, blindfolds catching, every breath shared between them sweet even when they're not gasping in pleasure.
Takeshi, behind him, sturdy as a bat, straight as any throw from his hand, mapping out the curves of their bodies in a way that ensures he'll never forget them.
Release comes slow for Tsuna, with how Takeshi savors every little second he can, but it does come, and it leaves him shivering throughout the whole process. When Takeshi finally undoes the blindfold from around his eyes, Tsuna has to blink the light of the world into something manageable so that he can better look down upon Hayato's face. It's a pretty good view, honestly, even if Hayato's eyes are still hidden behind a black tie. They're one of his best features. Then again, he has a lot of pretty good ones. He enjoys it all the way to the mattress as Takeshi gently lays him down, untying one hand from where it was bond to Hayato's. That still leaves one pair tied, of course, and that's fine. Wiggling to be a little more comfortable against the mattress since not a single one of them had the foresight to get the pillows, Tsuna smiles dopily.
Hayato can't see him, but, well, he is a little bit splattered all across his stomach and a little further upwards. That's more than enough to have him tilt his head to where he can no doubt feel Tsuna laying. "You're always so quiet," he says breathlessly, pale cheeks flushed a gaudy red underneath the blindfold. They match his flame, his most innate one.
"Unlike Hayato, who gets heard from floors below!" Takeshi chirps cheerfully, even while adjusting himself to be inbetween Hayato's legs, his hands resting along the knees.
"You know what, go fuaAH!"
Tsuna bursts out laughing at the interruption, so loud that he manages to drown out the sound of Hayato's moans, or the way Takeshi swallows. He laughs until his stomach hurts, because he can, and he's glad for it. Sure, Hayato nudges his foot with his once Takeshi has soundly removed himself, but such a little bit of protest is worth it. When Hayato's own blindfold is removed, Tsuna makes sure the first thing he gets to see is his smile. Hayato smiles back, up until Tsuna says, "He's right, you know."
Promptly, Hayato's face twists into a sulking scowl, although Tsuna can tell that it's about 75% exaggerated. After a decade of being with him, he's learned to find out all the littlest details when it concerns his two boyfriends. That, too, might be a good chunk of intuition. "This is unfair," he mutters.
Takeshi kneels between them, humming while he undoes the knots keeping their wrists tied. "You just say that because you still can't say 'no' to Tsuna."
It's a little hard to argue against that, considering it's true. Yet a little bit of healthy bickering has always been the core aspect of his and Takeshi's relationship, so Hayato of course has to give it a try. "You have both of us tied up, and I'm being ganged up on-"
"We didn't exactly try that," Takeshi murmurs, eyes sparkling. "But we can if you're up for another round." He gets a knee to his hip for the trouble of the innuendo, and laughs again.
With his hand free, Tsuna makes a face even as he starts to roll his wrists around to make sure they're not too sore. Takeshi is good at knot tying, a talent that could be either Varia quality or sports quality, and so there's no reason to worry too much about any damage... But it's good to stretch a little anyway. While their hands are important for all of them, Tsuna's especially are his primary weapons. "I'll pass. I have no idea how you could keep going after that."
Hayato is still kneeing the side of Takeshi's hip. "Well, this freak has always had way too much-" Whatever else he could say about Takeshi's energy is interrupted as the swordsman grabs his leg and flips him over, drawing out a squawk.
"Anyway," he continues, testing how stable his legs are, "weren't we talking about doing food, first? We just got sidetracked."
"I wonder who suggested the sidetracking," Hayato grunts, trying to wrestle his ankle out of Takeshi's grip. The latter can't stop grinning.
Tsuna ignores him. "I'll get some food heated up, so try not to tire yourselves out and fall asleep first, alright?" That has Takeshi look over at him.
"You don't have to. I'll do it. It's just some basic preparation, right?"
He's not wrong. Still, Tsuna shakes his head. "No, it's fine. Anyway, it looks like you two are having too much fun." Even as he says it, Hayato kicks a foot into Takeshi's stomach to force his attention back onto him. "And I'd rather not get my head accidentally kicked because the two of you are so absorbed in that kind of fun."
There's a faint sound of acknowledgment from Takeshi, but he's a lot more preoccupied with trying to pin Hayato to the mattress. A trained swordsman who can hold his own against the Varia's best versus an explosives expert who spent most of his teenage years going against other mafia and scrapping in alleys. Surprisingly, it could be anyone's win... Well, besides Tsuna, who pushes himself up to his feet with a fond smile at the pair of them.
Yeah. This is how it should be.
This is what's at stake... and what he might be leaving behind.
The thought weighs on Tsuna even as he tosses some canned food into a pot for a sturdy enough meal, and stays with him all the way to when he remembers to get his clothing on halfway through. There's a war raging outside the small shelter they've got to themselves for the time being and, in the path ahead, there's an opening he knows he can't afford to waste. Irie Shoichi... Tsuna doesn't even have to think twice on if the other man will have made it, not when Hibari Kyoya is the one guiding him. Maybe that's better, maybe that's worse. If it was anyone else, he could worry on that first step ahead of him... But, no. He needs all the time he can get, to think on what it might mean for his promise to be true. They've taken so many hits in this war, lost so many lives, lost so many people who should never have even gotten involved...
It can't be allowed to continue on. It can't.
His brief and secretive correspondence with Irie had given one warning: This is a last ditch plan. I can't promise that no other lives will be lost. Especially yours.
That would be a more worrisome warning, if this whole thing wasn't at threat for his life and, worse, a threat for the lives of everyone he's ever cared about in this enormous family that he's both crafted and inherited. It's selfish, he knows this as he looks over at Takeshi and Hayato finally settling down against the mattresses... but he'd rather him be lost than the two of them. Than anyone.
But that's in the future. He reminds himself of this, poking at the rough approximation of a soup that's in the pot. That is a problem for "five-days-later" Tsuna. For him now, for the Tsuna in the present...
The Tsuna in the present just brings over some soup to two of the people he loves most in the world, and teases them about hot soup burning their still naked bodies.