The first words out of Xanxus' mouth are, "What the fuck." He doesn't even bother to phrase it as a question.
A Tsunayoshi Sawada who is not nearly tall enough for the maturity in his face doesn't even bat an eye at the words, or Xanxus' sudden existence on a bed in front of him, or the amount of smoke that is slowly dissipating throughout the room. Instead, he just continues to undo the tie he has around his throat and looks mildly exasperated. "Well, this is definitely one way to start a vacation."
There are a lot of things Xanxus could say in response to that, most of them more swearing or a variety of insults. With how many languages he knows, that's quite a selection. Instead, he adjusts himself, arms resting against his knees while he takes in the situation he's now in. When that stupid time traveling missile had broken right at his feet, he'd been lounging in one of the fanciest hotels Japan could produce while that worthless brat of a fake heir's group had tried to have a conversation with his Varia on working together further in the future. The settings had been all smoothly polished furniture, glittering lights, and rich food. the room he's in now is essentially... the very opposite of that. The light is warm and natural, a kaleidoscope of different colors coming in from two different stained glass windows at opposite sides of the room. All the furniture seems to match, being fairly plain , and a set of stairs to the side lead downwards. There is a woman at a large standing mirror, adjusting her hair. Xanxus doesn't recognize her until she turns her head to glance at him. It's Varia common sense to look up the family members of those attached to any targets they might have, just so that they can figure out if there's anyone who would be a problem somewhere along the bloodline. While her hair is much longer and the structure of her face has changed into that of a woman, it's definitely the sister of the "official" Sun Guardian, Kyoko Sasagawa.
Much like Sawada, she doesn't seem particularly surprised at his appearance. Instead, she just grins at him. "It's a church," she explains, almost as if she could read his mind. Xanxus glowers a little harder, to no effect. Off to the side, Sawada seems to be doing his best not to grin, which only makes Xanxus want to smash his head into the floor even harder at the same time that a part of him almost likes it. While he'd hated the idea of a coward taking over his rightful place, there's something to be said in the moments when he found a spine. "You thought it would be funny if people like us stayed in a remodeled home that used to be a church."
She's actually not wrong. A snort leaves him before he can stop it. There's something a lot more interesting to note in her words, however. "Us?" he asks, lip curling while disdain drips from his voice to practically stain into the floor.
"God, I can't wait until we're old enough that we don't have to deal with time travel," Sawada says softly, tossing his tie on top of a dresser.
In contrast, Sasagawa just laughs and moves over to him with a grace most normal women admittedly don't have. She's actually fairly attractive, he has to admit. (They both are, and he's kind of pissed off about it.) She's even more attractive for the sheer audacity she displays when she nudges him back with one deceivingly delicate hand, wiggling down onto his legs as if he's the throne and she's the queen in charge here. This way, he can feel the definition of her legs a little better than he can see them past her flowing pastel dress- muscular and defined. "That's right," she says airily, leaning right into him with her hands at his chest. "Us."
The next bit of clothing that Sawada carelessly flings off of himself is his jacket. "Us," he agrees casually, his casual apathy apparently extending to what Xanxus can only presume is his woman draping all over another man. Now a layer or two freer, it's even more obvious to Xanxus that the little runt has actually gained some muscle peering out past his open collar. "This may be a surprise to you but, ten years in your future, I am in fact a bonafide criminal, although I'm pretty sure that doesn't impress you."
"It doesn't," Xanxus sneers, before Sasagawa's hand presses down against his chest insistently. For him, it's all the weight of a kitten, but he lets it happen... in no small part because she's starting to slide down inbetween his legs.
"You can bicker with everyone you like in your time," she tells him. "But we have around three minutes left, so I think we should make those count."
"She has a good point." Sawada, as it turns out, isn't just standing to the side while his girl gets on another man. He's also falling onto the bed, mostly on his hip with one hand holding him up. They both seem to used and natural towards the idea that, briefly, Xanxus wonders if he's having a drunken dream. "Well, I think three minutes is enough time for us."
He has a lot of fucking questions, especially on what exactly these two plan on doing in three minutes... but he doesn't need to ask them out loud, as it turns out. Not when one of the two pops open his pants, and the other dives in for a kiss that catches him completely and utterly off-guard.
When he comes back, Levi has been tossed into the chandelier, Bel is peeking in from outside the window where they're on the tenth floor, Squalo is snarling out curses in Portuguese as he tugs his hair out from underneath a whole couch, and Lussuria is standing way off from the blast radius as possible sipping a martini. Mammon is nowhere to be found; they've probably used illusions to stop existing for a while until things settled. Over near Lussuria, an entirely different couch has been overturned to become a makeshift barrier, and he can see the heads of the brats peeking out warily. What's most egregious, however?
Almost all the booze he had initially set up around himself for this shitty fucking meeting has been downed.
He was gone for five fucking minutes.
A vein threatens to pop in his skull, heat already stirring in his fingertips, and the brat group dives for cover again, Lussuria turns on her heel to outright leave, and Bel ducks out of sight again. After a second, however, he realizes that he was wrong. There is still some alcohol left. To be exact, there is one big thick bottle of whiskey on the one untouched piece of furniture in the whole suite... right next to the paperwork for further talks of alliance between this 'Tenth Generation' and the Varia.
Xanxus narrows his eyes and ponders how to fight his own future self.
After a hot second, he growls, and cools off his hand to grab the bottle for a long deep swig. "Fuck it," he snarls, getting a pen with his free hand and making the barest excuse for a signature where it's needed. That's all he bothers to do with this whole mess before he steps over the coffee table where both whiskey and paperwork had been set. He wants to get drunk while he's still faintly enjoying himself. As he passes by the overturned couch, listening to harried Japanese being exchanged. He doesn't bother to look too much at the lot, besides for one quick glance out of the corner of his eye. Tsuna Sawada at this age still looks like something of a coward, but there are hints of how he'll be in ten years like the muscles developed in his arms from being forced to fight for his life ever three months and the hints of exasperation not too unlike that which he'd expressed when grumbling about time travel.
Which, fucking cheers to that, frankly.
Ignoring the sounds of Squalo yelling at him to hold the hell on and Levi trying to get out of the chandelier, Xanxus leaves the room with his only acknowledgement of his group being how he raises his whiskey bottle to tap it in cheers to Lussuria's own martini. It's when he's a decent length down the hallway that the air shifts, mist thick, and Mammon is there again. "Your fly is loose, Boss," they say bluntly, not mentioning that his belt is also loose, and that they've discretely been keeping this fact hidden from everyone else. Xanxus doesn't really care about such shit most of the time, but he can at least acknowledge that it's a good thing to know about. It's shit like that which gets Mammon some large tips on their paycheck, since they look out for such bullshit during moments that are, arguably, vaguely important.
Right now, Xanxus doesn't care. He just grunts and takes another swig of his whiskey. "I'm heading to my room," he says simply, and the illusionist shrugs and hangs back. Good.
He needs a second to come to terms with what kind of future is possibly in store for him and ponder when exactly Sawada gets so good at going down on him or when Sasagawa learns how to use her tongue like that.
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lightning : age regression
no subject
A Tsunayoshi Sawada who is not nearly tall enough for the maturity in his face doesn't even bat an eye at the words, or Xanxus' sudden existence on a bed in front of him, or the amount of smoke that is slowly dissipating throughout the room. Instead, he just continues to undo the tie he has around his throat and looks mildly exasperated. "Well, this is definitely one way to start a vacation."
There are a lot of things Xanxus could say in response to that, most of them more swearing or a variety of insults. With how many languages he knows, that's quite a selection. Instead, he adjusts himself, arms resting against his knees while he takes in the situation he's now in. When that stupid time traveling missile had broken right at his feet, he'd been lounging in one of the fanciest hotels Japan could produce while that worthless brat of a fake heir's group had tried to have a conversation with his Varia on working together further in the future. The settings had been all smoothly polished furniture, glittering lights, and rich food. the room he's in now is essentially... the very opposite of that. The light is warm and natural, a kaleidoscope of different colors coming in from two different stained glass windows at opposite sides of the room. All the furniture seems to match, being fairly plain , and a set of stairs to the side lead downwards. There is a woman at a large standing mirror, adjusting her hair. Xanxus doesn't recognize her until she turns her head to glance at him. It's Varia common sense to look up the family members of those attached to any targets they might have, just so that they can figure out if there's anyone who would be a problem somewhere along the bloodline. While her hair is much longer and the structure of her face has changed into that of a woman, it's definitely the sister of the "official" Sun Guardian, Kyoko Sasagawa.
Much like Sawada, she doesn't seem particularly surprised at his appearance. Instead, she just grins at him. "It's a church," she explains, almost as if she could read his mind. Xanxus glowers a little harder, to no effect. Off to the side, Sawada seems to be doing his best not to grin, which only makes Xanxus want to smash his head into the floor even harder at the same time that a part of him almost likes it. While he'd hated the idea of a coward taking over his rightful place, there's something to be said in the moments when he found a spine. "You thought it would be funny if people like us stayed in a remodeled home that used to be a church."
She's actually not wrong. A snort leaves him before he can stop it. There's something a lot more interesting to note in her words, however. "Us?" he asks, lip curling while disdain drips from his voice to practically stain into the floor.
"God, I can't wait until we're old enough that we don't have to deal with time travel," Sawada says softly, tossing his tie on top of a dresser.
In contrast, Sasagawa just laughs and moves over to him with a grace most normal women admittedly don't have. She's actually fairly attractive, he has to admit. (They both are, and he's kind of pissed off about it.) She's even more attractive for the sheer audacity she displays when she nudges him back with one deceivingly delicate hand, wiggling down onto his legs as if he's the throne and she's the queen in charge here. This way, he can feel the definition of her legs a little better than he can see them past her flowing pastel dress- muscular and defined. "That's right," she says airily, leaning right into him with her hands at his chest. "Us."
The next bit of clothing that Sawada carelessly flings off of himself is his jacket. "Us," he agrees casually, his casual apathy apparently extending to what Xanxus can only presume is his woman draping all over another man. Now a layer or two freer, it's even more obvious to Xanxus that the little runt has actually gained some muscle peering out past his open collar. "This may be a surprise to you but, ten years in your future, I am in fact a bonafide criminal, although I'm pretty sure that doesn't impress you."
"It doesn't," Xanxus sneers, before Sasagawa's hand presses down against his chest insistently. For him, it's all the weight of a kitten, but he lets it happen... in no small part because she's starting to slide down inbetween his legs.
"You can bicker with everyone you like in your time," she tells him. "But we have around three minutes left, so I think we should make those count."
"She has a good point." Sawada, as it turns out, isn't just standing to the side while his girl gets on another man. He's also falling onto the bed, mostly on his hip with one hand holding him up. They both seem to used and natural towards the idea that, briefly, Xanxus wonders if he's having a drunken dream. "Well, I think three minutes is enough time for us."
He has a lot of fucking questions, especially on what exactly these two plan on doing in three minutes... but he doesn't need to ask them out loud, as it turns out. Not when one of the two pops open his pants, and the other dives in for a kiss that catches him completely and utterly off-guard.
When he comes back, Levi has been tossed into the chandelier, Bel is peeking in from outside the window where they're on the tenth floor, Squalo is snarling out curses in Portuguese as he tugs his hair out from underneath a whole couch, and Lussuria is standing way off from the blast radius as possible sipping a martini. Mammon is nowhere to be found; they've probably used illusions to stop existing for a while until things settled. Over near Lussuria, an entirely different couch has been overturned to become a makeshift barrier, and he can see the heads of the brats peeking out warily. What's most egregious, however?
Almost all the booze he had initially set up around himself for this shitty fucking meeting has been downed.
He was gone for five fucking minutes.
A vein threatens to pop in his skull, heat already stirring in his fingertips, and the brat group dives for cover again, Lussuria turns on her heel to outright leave, and Bel ducks out of sight again. After a second, however, he realizes that he was wrong. There is still some alcohol left. To be exact, there is one big thick bottle of whiskey on the one untouched piece of furniture in the whole suite... right next to the paperwork for further talks of alliance between this 'Tenth Generation' and the Varia.
Xanxus narrows his eyes and ponders how to fight his own future self.
After a hot second, he growls, and cools off his hand to grab the bottle for a long deep swig. "Fuck it," he snarls, getting a pen with his free hand and making the barest excuse for a signature where it's needed. That's all he bothers to do with this whole mess before he steps over the coffee table where both whiskey and paperwork had been set. He wants to get drunk while he's still faintly enjoying himself. As he passes by the overturned couch, listening to harried Japanese being exchanged. He doesn't bother to look too much at the lot, besides for one quick glance out of the corner of his eye. Tsuna Sawada at this age still looks like something of a coward, but there are hints of how he'll be in ten years like the muscles developed in his arms from being forced to fight for his life ever three months and the hints of exasperation not too unlike that which he'd expressed when grumbling about time travel.
Which, fucking cheers to that, frankly.
Ignoring the sounds of Squalo yelling at him to hold the hell on and Levi trying to get out of the chandelier, Xanxus leaves the room with his only acknowledgement of his group being how he raises his whiskey bottle to tap it in cheers to Lussuria's own martini. It's when he's a decent length down the hallway that the air shifts, mist thick, and Mammon is there again. "Your fly is loose, Boss," they say bluntly, not mentioning that his belt is also loose, and that they've discretely been keeping this fact hidden from everyone else. Xanxus doesn't really care about such shit most of the time, but he can at least acknowledge that it's a good thing to know about. It's shit like that which gets Mammon some large tips on their paycheck, since they look out for such bullshit during moments that are, arguably, vaguely important.
Right now, Xanxus doesn't care. He just grunts and takes another swig of his whiskey. "I'm heading to my room," he says simply, and the illusionist shrugs and hangs back. Good.
He needs a second to come to terms with what kind of future is possibly in store for him and ponder when exactly Sawada gets so good at going down on him or when Sasagawa learns how to use her tongue like that.