Notes: To Sephy, Brigdh, Lys, Bekquai, Odile and whoever else read this earlier and made me keep the making out in. Now I can safely blame this on all of you. ^^ Also, this is unbetaed. If there are typos... well, it's all on me. ^_- Catching Stupid's Arrows A Yami no Matsuei Fanfiction by Amet "At first I thought my life was going around in circles, and then I realized it was actually a downward spiral." -Tom Ryan It was almost too warm. Hisoka shifted within the hold of his partner's arms, bumping Tsuzuki's thigh with slightly more force than was probably necessary until it slipped away from its uncomfortable position over his hipbone. His lover had an unfortunate tendency to wrap around him after sex, a romantic notion he was sure was meant to comfort, only he had yet to find any practical value in the practice beyond reassuring Tsuzuki on the most basic level that he would still be beside the older man in the morning. Hisoka himself was finding that the human body was a very uncomfortable thing to lay against, and that while a boneless, somnolent Tsuzuki sprawled across a mattress was an inviting thing, when sprawled across him it meant more in the way of breathing problems, cricks in joints he didn't think could even bend that far backward and an entirely claustrophobic sense that any move to leave on his part would be met with an extreme reaction. If this was the sum total of what real romance had to offer, then Hisoka was unimpressed. At least they'd managed to remove actual clothing this time, which was a major accomplishment after weeks of being either too uncomfortable or too caught up in the urgency of it all to bother. Hisoka hadn't been prepared for the difference, the powerful sensations evoked by the merest brush of Tsuzuki's fingers across hypersensitive nerve endings... foreign sensations potent enough that he'd fought the instinct to buck away even as he gasped his enjoyment into his lover's mouth. Which made it all the more surprising to find himself engrossed in those moments where he was clinging to his lover, with Tsuzuki thrusting against him and burying his face into Hisoka's neck, when he could watch what they were doing, really look at the two of them engaged in such a ridiculous activity... and still think that it was good. That there was nothing so horrible about it at all and there was no need in the world to stop. That was a liberating feeling. It wasn't that he lost himself in it. Everything about his experience only seemed to further debunk every naïve fairy tale and seedy harlequin romance he'd ever read. It was more a sharpening of focus, a hyperawareness of his lover's skin against his own, of his own movements and the reactions they evoked in Tsuzuki. And as confusing as it all was, as frightening as it could be in that final explosion of movement when Tsuzuki forgot to be careful and began to really demand of him, the dreams had shown him a time when all of this would cease to matter, when his actions in play would be as natural as the anger that fueled his current fears and that alone was worth the struggle to hold himself in check. Tsuzuki murmured something nonsensical into Hisoka's shoulder, shifting slightly to wrap an arm more snugly around Hisoka's waist. Hisoka sighed, giving in and settling back against his lover, fitting himself to the mold of Tsuzuki's body as the older man bent his knees up into the hollow of Hisoka's own. This he liked, the comforting weight of his partner at his back, a stolid, unwavering support even without actually doing anything beyond just being there... nuzzling unconsciously into Hisoka's shoulder and snoring soft puffs of air into the back of his neck. And it was moments like this that Hisoka thought that maybe he could get into this snuggling thing, if he could teach Tsuzuki to do it on his terms. But when did Tsuzuki ever do anything on anyone else's terms? The bedroom was dark, the only light a muted glow from beneath the closed door and he supposed Tsuzuki must have left the hall light on. Wasteful to do that, but it wasn't his house and Tsuzuki seemed less than inclined to remember little things like conserving resources and monetary constraints. There had been a time when he'd wondered how the older man made it to the end of the month on his salary, but a little time spent in Tatsumi-san's company had dispelled that mystery soon after his arrival. Tsuzuki got by on favoritism, and there were times Hisoka swore that the odd esteem most of the Division had for Tsuzuki was the only thing keeping the Ten Kings from kicking him out of the netherworld. He was almost the office mascot, a fixture so permanent and so ridiculous on all counts that people tended to take it for granted that he would always be there, waxing poetic on the merits of chocolate cake, for the rest of eternity. Hisoka wondered what that felt like, to have faith in the future, without the certainty that the coming days meant fire and pain and the death of the man whose arms were such a comfort to him now. Laughter echoed through the bedroom at that, a throaty, mocking sound that rang against the walls of the small chamber. Hisoka might have startled at the sound, were Tsuzuki's arms not still clamped around his torso or the sound not so painfully familiar. As it were he merely swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat, stretching stiffening muscles to look into the shadows, eyes squinting into the darkness beyond. The wooden footsteps reverberating off the floorboards as a tall, visored figure coalesced inside the dim sphere of light reflected from the doorway were almost routine, hollow in their practiced familiarity even as they were meant to intimidate. Surprisingly, Hisoka found that he no longer regarded the man with the shadowed eyes as a real threat to him or his partner, merely an unwanted reminder of all he stood to lose. He was more mocking with laughter, in smiles with such cruel edges it seemed a farce to call them that... a hulking figure who reveled in his own inability to understand its cryptic prodding and he'd come to resent it more than anything else. Which is probably what prompted the insane impulse to tip his head, yawn widely and murmur a sleepy, "Evening." The man's head cocked as he glided closer, movements fluid and sure, an animal tinge to a human body that seemed unnatural in the pallor of the darkened room. He seemed even whiter than usual, skin nearly translucent beneath the shielding of hair and visor, darkened veins standing out in stark relief around the cruel twist of his mouth. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me who you are?" Hisoka queried, shaking his head even before the words were finished. Since coming to the division Watari had lent him a number of scientific readings on everything from human behavior to chemical compositions. One of the ones that had made an impression told of an old experiment performed on dogs, in which a scientist would shock the animal whenever it headed for food training it to expect the pain until the dog would begin to starve itself, even when the scientist had no intention of pushing the button, in lieu of further punishment. Hisoka was no trained animal, and pathetic though it may have seemed to ask his stalwart adversary the selfsame question again and again, the defeatist in him was utterly convinced that the night he gave up his query would be the night the man would have been ready to hand him his answer. The man no longer dignified the question with anything more than an annoyed puff of air, and merely turned on his heel, stalking silently back into the shadows and returning, pacing the room in circles like a caged tiger. 'We need to talk.' "No shit, really?" Hisoka muttered. "Talk, already. I'm kinda comfortable here." He wanted to return to his thoughts, to the comfort of Tsuzuki's embrace without worrying about his nefarious shadow-stalker throwing a fit in the corner. And for some reason he had the feeling that the more time he spent in the man's company the more any chance he would get that time with his partner was fading away. The man in the visor stopped abruptly in a flutter of tattered overcoat and rippling shadow. 'Stupid boy! You are dreaming! Or has my presence become so banal that I no longer signal the end of your wallowing?' And in an instant, any semblance of peace or comfort shattered, as his dream lover hollowed out, grayed into the background of the scene with the rest of the furniture. Hisoka nearly wept with the wrenching pain of it, doubling over the ghostly appendage still wrapped around his waist, almost frightening as it lost any tangibility, still present but no longer registering along the nerves in his skin. The sudden empathic silence was deafening. "I hate you," he managed, grating each syllable from between clenched teeth. "I hate you." The man's impassive face held, a granite rendering of cool indifference. 'Should I pity you, then? You cannot hide in dreams anymore than you can in reality, child. It is not your place to be comfortable while my master suffers.' "It's not my..." Hisoka started, and then thought better of descending into any real argument with the unflappable man. "You know what? It doesn’t matter. Because unless you actually have a point this time, this conversation is over. Go. Away." He turned to face his shattered lover, sucking in a harsh breath as he found he could actually see through Tsuzuki's sleeping visage and fighting the urge to hide his head in the man's shoulder. 'I come with a warning.' "Don't you always?" 'I have no time to play games with you, boy. You may not like what I have to say but you WILL listen. There is a far more immediate threat at hand that cannot be allowed to gain control or you will not have to worry about hellfire any longer, for neither of you will live to see it!' That got his attention, and he turned to find the man's face mere inches from his own, indifferent eyes just visible beneath the tinted glass of the visor. "What now?" 'You know the threat of which I speak, you merely lack the scruples to appreciate it.' The man seethed, breath washing across Hisoka's face and he struggled not to flinch at the startling HEAT of it. Whatever his tormentor was, he could safely say it wasn't human. Which brought to mind another problem, something that had been worrying him earlier, just at the edge of his thoughts... "Minase," he murmured, eyes wide in sudden recognition. "Minase's demon." The demon Watari had been desperately searching for in the library database for the better part of twelve hours, something so powerful it made even Tsuzuki's cocky demeanor slip in the face of its ceaseless pursuit of its goal... 'You cannot allow him to interfere.' The man sneered, stalking away again to resume wearing a hole in the now incorporeal carpet. "And I'm supposed to do this how?" he began, before the man's withering look froze him in his tracks. "Oh wait, I'm sorry, I forgot. You don't answer questions, you just ramble incoherently in a scratchy Hammer Horror voice and get testy when I can't follow the bouncing euphemisms." 'That is not your concern, child.' "Oh right," he grumbled, "Of course not. Silly me for expecting I was supposed to actually give a damn about the man I'm so obviously in love with!" He barely realized his voice had raised until the man behind him shifted, murmuring beneath his breath as he pulled Hisoka back down onto the bed. "You know, I wonder," Hisoka mused, running a hand along the arm around his body. "If he wakes, will he recognize you? Will he see something in you that I'm missing?" 'If he wakes,' the man insisted, 'The dream ends. You cannot hide here.' But the man could not hide the fear that slithered over Hisoka's empathic sense as he said those words, and in a fit of adolescent annoyance Hisoka brought his hand down hard against Tsuzuki's arm. He imagined the eyes beneath the visor widening in shock as Tsuzuki yelped loudly in response. "Right." And the man with the shadowed eyes was no more. ---------------------------------------------------------- "Hisoka, " Tsuzuki was whining, "That hurt!" The world was suddenly a much nicer place, even with the shrill complaint, without the hulking presence in the corner. Tsuzuki's breath was warm against his neck and he settled back against his partner, chuckling. "Hisoka is so mean," the man sighed, lips pressing against the back of his shoulder. "So mean," Tsuzuki repeated, whispered against the back of his neck. "I just wanted to be near you..." The tide of exasperated affection and simple lust rolling over his senses at the words made him giddy, half-delirious as they washed away the anger and frustration of moments before, slipping within his partner's grasp to turn to face the older man and seal their lips together. Tsuzuki seemed surprised by the action, lodging a muffled protest against Hisoka's lips before they opened, and Hisoka felt the moment his partner was lost in the feel of him. He laughed into the kiss, giddy with the renewed warmth of it, the knowledge that he had managed to unbalance his normally flexible partner enough to gain control. They broke apart and Hisoka stretched, pressing himself against the full length of his lover's panting body, smiling at the proof of his partner's interest rubbing against his stomach and the absolutely baffled expression on the older man's face. "Hmmm," he commented, burying his face against Tsuzuki's chest. "Warm." His head tipped up to smile at the man once more, pouting slightly as he searched Tsuzuki's eyes for the source of the confusion. "Why are you not kissing me?" he demanded, petulant. A small, embarrassed bark of laughter and Tsuzuki's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "You know what?" he asked, rolling Hisoka beneath him, "I'm not even going to ask." With that Tsuzuki finally shut up, and his tongue was where it belonged in Hisoka's mouth, scraping against Hisoka's teeth and tickling across the sensitive skin of his palate. He moaned, helpless against the tide of emotion flooding in as Tsuzuki moved against him, suckling his tongue and gasping in pleased surprise as Hisoka's legs fell open, hands pulling Tsuzuki between them and guiding them into a rhythm. "Really," Tsuzuki panted, tearing away from Hisoka's lips to suckle along the sensitive skin of his neck. "Really, not asking." The laugh that was Hisoka's reply seemed drunken even to his own hearing, but he dismissed it, clenching one hand in his lover's hair and another against the fabric of pajama pants at Tsuzuki's thigh to pull it in more snugly against his arousal. There would be plenty of time for explanation later, he wanted Tsuzuki now, and given his often ambivalent relationship with sex he hardly understood why Tsuzuki was questioning this. In fact, the older man seemed almost too flustered to keep up, mouth moving in a meandering pattern along the column of Hisoka's neck that barely grazed the most sensitive spots he'd been manipulating shamelessly for weeks... as though he didn't remember they were there. "Shit." Tsuzuki jerked as Hisoka angled a hip to press against him, rearing far enough to focus dazed amethyst eyes on Hisoka's face as they rocked together. "Gods... Wow, but that must have been some dream." And in another instant the world crystallized and shattered again. "Dream?" Hisoka croaked out, fear welling up so thick in his throat he barely got the word out, clenching his hands in the fabric of Tsuzuki's trousers and realizing for the first time that they were both wearing quite a lot of clothing to be in the same situation of the dream. But he had woken in the same position and Tsuzuki's hands had been on him, and... 'Oh, Enma-sama, please don't let this mean what I think it means...' "Yes, dream." Tsuzuki looked positively horrified as Hisoka froze beneath him, eyes widening as he jabbered out an explanation, words tripping over themselves to come out. "You were talking in your sleep. You sounded almost angry and when I tried to calm you down you like, jabbed me and then you got all grabby and I really just said the wrong thing, didn't I?" "What?!" Hisoka demanded, shoving Tsuzuki off him and sitting up to stare down at his partner with incredulous eyes. "I don't... I mean, how did you... what did we... why are you in bed with me?!" "Hisoka..." Tsuzuki reached for his hand, but Hisoka jerked away, kicking the covers off his legs and vaulting to the floor, rounding on his partner with all the shock and confused anger he could muster. Tsuzuki wilted, hand still reaching out to him even as the older man looked away. "The couches are really uncomfortable out there, as I'm sure you remember, and you seemed... upset last night. You've been so mad at me lately, and I thought... I told you, I just wanted to be near you." He sighed. "It's stupid, I know, but I figured you'd slap me when you woke up or something, I didn't think--" "That's right," Hisoka snapped, fighting the urge to vomit as reality hit home. "You didn't think." And with that he turned on his heel, streaking through the doorway before Tsuzuki had time to cry out, sprinting down the hallway at full tilt with little thought except to get away as quickly as possible. If he'd been thinking clearly he would have thought to teleport, or realized that the instant he sprang from the room Tsuzuki was on his heel, but his thoughts were an indecipherable jumble with the horrified realization of what his actions had just confessed to his partner and the distinct impossibility that he would be able to talk his way out of them without changing things between them irrevocably. He thundered into the kitchen without a second thought until Watari and Minase had already turned to him in shock, Watari raising a golden eyebrow in question as Minase shook of his own questioning to smile in welcome. "Morning," the mortal boy chirruped, smile widening. "Watari-san made me coffee I can actually drink without ruining my esophagus. Want some?" Hisoka managed a tiny, sickly grimace that might have aspired to be a smile before turning to meet Watari's damnable questioning gaze and nearly tripping over to the coffee machine. "Coffee," he tossed over his shoulder to the scientist, "Is my friend." He managed to catch Tsuzuki's final stumble into the kitchen area out of the corner of his eye, turning to concentrate on pouring himself a cup as his partner's gaze fell on him. If he could just pretend that everything was okay, stay around the others long enough to keep Tsuzuki quiet until he could figure out what to say, if his hands would just stop shaking long enough to let him make a cup of coffee to hide behind... Large, sure hands wrapped around his own, stilling them and ripping into the sugar packet that had so defeated Hisoka, moving to stir its contents into the drink. Tsuzuki took another cup, added several more sugar packets and set to work to stem Watari's curiosity, at least momentarily. Hisoka whimpered as his partner pressed against him from behind, making very obvious both empathically and physically that he was no longer aroused. "Calm down," Tsuzuki soothed, lips pressed into his hair and voice pitched low enough that even Watari's hearing couldn't have made out what he was saying. "I'm not angry, you're alright, and since I'm assuming that you don't want those two knowing about all this I think you'd better take some deep breaths, Hisoka, you're nearly hyperventilating." The hand that wasn't directly in their audience's line of sight moved to rub at his back, slow circles beneath his shirt as he attempted to get breathing he hadn't even registered as labored under control. "It's alright," Tsuzuki continued, pressing a kiss to his temple as his partner reached for a container of creamer, blocking the shifting scientist's view with his torso. "I just... did that mean anything to you? Did you even want me or was I just filling in for someone from your dream?" "I didn't know what I was doing," Hisoka snapped, jerking his head away as Tsuzuki moved to nuzzle him again. "I gathered that," Tsuzuki replied, voice chilling by degrees as his patience wore thinner, "But I don't think you get it. I don't let people touch me, not like that, not without it meaning something. You may not like it, but I take sex very seriously and you are not getting out of this one with a few flippant remarks and a couple hours of silent treatment." "Tsuzuki, you take cake seriously." "Well this is more serious than cake, or food, or even partners. You touched me, Hisoka, you can't just take that back." "Wait, wait, wait... you seem to be conveniently forgetting the part where I woke up to you touching me," Hisoka seethed. "And I don't remember inviting you to bed with me! I was barely coherent, you're lucky I didn't blast you into next week!" "Oh no," Tsuzuki answered, bitterness dripping off each word, and he dropped both the creamer he'd been pouring in and the coffee he'd been holding unceremoniously to the countertop, latching his hands around Hisoka's wrists and dragging him towards the vacated bedroom as Minase and Watari stared on in horror. "You do not get to do that!" the man hissed, clamping down harder as Hisoka began to panic and struggled against his hold. Tsuzuki dragged him halfway before giving up and hoisting him off his feet, carrying him kicking and cursing the rest of the way to the bedroom, throwing him inside and slamming the door with a mighty crash. Hisoka barely had time to get his feet under him before Tsuzuki was advancing, face twisted in absolute rage as he jabbed a finger at Hisoka, backing him up towards the wall. "Don’t. You. Dare, Kurosaki Hisoka! Do not do this to me! Don't equate me with him just to make yourself feel better! I am not Muraki!" Hisoka's back hit the wall with a thud, and he recovered long enough to keep himself from panicking, throwing his tired body into something resembling a defensive position and sneering at his partner. "Right, asshole, and are you going to make good on all that posturing and hit me, or don't you have the guts?" Stupid to be so antagonistic with someone as powerful as Tsuzuki, surreal to be asking for violence with someone he wanted anything but, and still Tsuzuki kept coming, reaching out and twisting his arms behind his back before he'd even realized it was happening. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Tsuzuki asked, and his voice was still angry, but somehow, more disheartened. "If I'd just slap you around a little so you could file me with the rest of the assholes who've used you over the years, at least then I'd make sense, right?" He shoved, hard, and Hisoka found himself sprawled across the bed, legs pinned down by Tsuzuki's weight as the man leaned down to drive his point home. "You want to blast me so bad, go ahead. I'm right here, and when you're done you can transfer out like you were going to in the beginning and blame it all on my violent tendencies for good measure." "Stop it," he croaked, head throbbing from the beating his shields were taking and more than a little frightened as Tsuzuki pinned his hands. He could break his partner's hold, but it would mean putting a hole in him and he really wasn't ready to sever that tie altogether, hadn't even thought to how hard it would be when the time came if he really intended to save the man from himself and didn't like the way his stomach clenched at the thought one bit. "No," Tsuzuki insisted, eyes almost pleading in the morning light. "I can't let you run away from this one, not this time. You know I won't touch you unless I think you need it and you damn well could have said no... you know I would have backed off. But you didn't, if I remember correctly your exact words were 'Why are you not kissing me'." His wrists ached, and the words stung, remembering the wanton actions of some other him, how easy the lines had fallen from his lips. He'd read the wrong script, and there was nothing he could do to take it back, and if he could just think for five seconds without Tsuzuki's panic pinging around inside his skull maybe he could think of something rational to say. "Stop it," he screamed, voice breaking childishly. "Tsuzuki, you're hurting me!" "And you're hurting me!" Tsuzuki bellowed. "You push me away as much as you can, but whenever you forget yourself or you get too tired you pull me close and refuse to let go! What am I supposed to do with that? You want me, I know you do, I've seen it in your eyes and you refuse to let go of whatever it is you're so afraid of long enough to let me in... how are we supposed to trust one another if you're not honest with me? What if I need you too?" Hisoka froze, wondering how much time Tsuzuki'd been spending watching him sleep, if he'd somehow spoken aloud what he had watched himself scream so often in the darkest of the dreams. "I never said I needed you." "Fine then, you don't need me. You don't need anybody. But I need you with me and I need you whole, and that is never going to happen until you get wise to the fact that you are not alone anymore." Tsuzuki sighed, sitting back on his haunches and looking down at Hisoka with wounded eyes. "You're just going to end up spending an eternity resenting me and resenting yourself for not trying." "You don't understand." "Try me." "Let me go." "Can't." He wasn't panicking, Hisoka told himself firmly. It was getting harder to breathe in the face of Tsuzuki's sudden nonchalance, but that wasn't hyperventilation, just the weight bearing down on him... even if Tsuzuki had backed off enough to balance over his hips instead of his stomach. The man's entire posture was more speculative now than angry, as though he were trying to assess how far he could push before Hisoka gave in to impulse and got violent. Hisoka wasn't really sure himself, but he did know that he had to find a way out of the situation, like now, because there was nothing he could tell Tsuzuki that would satisfy him beyond coming right out with a blunt; 'See, it's like this. I have dreams about you every night and as much as I'd really like to screw you, some guy with a funky SciFi-bondage look seems to think that it'll kill us both, so if you could kindly get off me?' Right. And even if he did break down, gave in to some crazy impulse to confess and hand Tsuzuki the truth in all its precognitive, painful glory, there was no way to tell what the shadowed man--thing would do to either of them when the truth came out. In all likelihood giving Tsuzuki what he wanted would mean losing him entirely in an attempt to make him happy, and what was that worth? "Nothing," he thought, unaware that he'd said it out loud until Tsuzuki's head cocked to the side... waiting, assessing and Hisoka squirmed beneath his gaze. "Pretend you didn't hear that." Tsuzuki sighed, rolling his eyes and tamping down on a particularly vicious stab of frustration. He shifted forward, leaning down to bury his face in Hisoka's shoulder, stretching out on top of him. "Um, excuse me?" Hisoka squeaked. "Liberties? With the touching? That you should really not be taking right now?" He jabbed at Tsuzuki's shoulder, provoking little more than an annoyed harrumph and a bout of prolonged squirming in which Tsuzuki very purposefully hit every erogenous zone he could think of under a thin guise of making himself comfortable. "Tsuzuki!" Tsuzuki didn't even bother looking up. "Hmm?" "Get. Off. Me." "Can't do that, sorry," the man muttered, nuzzling more firmly into the hollow of Hisoka's neck, and Hisoka's breath caught in his throat as he bit back a whimper. "You know the conditions of your release, so either put up or shut up." "While you molest me?" "You don't seem to be objecting all too strenuously," said Tsuzuki, somehow managing to sound perfectly reasonable even as he splayed a hand speculatively over Hisoka's stomach. Hisoka jerked at the touch, grateful for the barrier of cloth between hand and over-sensitized nerve endings, at least. He knew it was coming, could feel every minutiae of thought flitting through his partner's head and that made it less likely to cause one of his more violent reactions, but he remembered what it was like without the protection of cloth between their bodies, the overwhelming lust and care and the uprising of instinctual fear he'd fought to suppress at the sensation. He cursed as Tsuzuki nuzzled at him again, gulping in air at a phenomenal rate and concentrating what was left of his logical mind on convincing himself that this was Tsuzuki, that despite all dire portents against them he wanted this and there was no reason to go nuclear on the man for a little innocent petting. Despite the flippancy of his remarks, Tsuzuki wasn’t doing anything that could actually be considered molestation, very carefully avoiding more sensitive areas in favor of simply leaning in, increasing contact to blur the lines between his own consciousness and Hisoka's. Hisoka absolutely hated it when Tsuzuki did this, using his empathy to weaken his resolve long enough to get him to agree to the most ridiculous things... It was an incident that had repeated itself at least a dozen times since their partnership began, since Tsuzuki had finally learned that he had damn well better press his advantage where he found it, because Hisoka was not the kind of person to make things easier on him by any means. His partner was simply reverting to form. Touching was what the man instinctively fell to when he felt the need to comfort and while Hisoka was sure he should probably be thankful in knowing that things hadn't altered all that irrevocably between them if Tsuzuki could still find it in him to be a pain in the ass, something in the way Tsuzuki seemed to have somehow flushed the anger from his system not ten minutes after dragging Hisoka bodily from the kitchen only made it disturbing. "It doesn't matter," he managed, turning his face into Tsuzuki's hair. "What doesn't matter," Tsuzuki said, voice a muffled puff of air against his neck. "The molesting or our relationship?" "Either. Both. Doesn’t matter." "See, you keep saying that," Tsuzuki informed his collar, "And you keep not making a whole lot of sense." And with that Tsuzuki had apparently grown bold enough to kiss him, feather light touches against his neck and jaw line that moved to press against his mouth. It was stupid to let it go on when common sense demanded he push Tsuzuki away, end things before it could go any farther and cause true, permanent damage, but he could feel the despair in Tsuzuki, the desperate determination to hold them both hostage until he could somehow convince Hisoka to stay. And he crumbled. He didn't realize how far he'd capitulated until Tsuzuki's tongue was in his mouth, that peculiar sensation of wet on wet that never failed to throw him off balance. The strange heat of it, the overwhelming emotion knotting in his chest, pouring like molasses over his mind from the simple thought that this for once was real, was something more than the shadow realm of the dreams, with the weight pressing him into the mattress and the tacky scent of Tsuzuki's aftershave... a thousand little details filtering in all at once as Tsuzuki groaned and slipped an arm beneath him, pulling him closer. This was not some precognitive vision of things that might be, it was reality, with Tsuzuki spreading his legs wider over Hisoka's hips and rubbing against him, wringing the most embarrassing noises from somewhere in the back of his throat, chuckling triumphantly and recapturing his mouth with renewed fervor. They were playing with fire, dredging up ghosts of memory better left buried and courting sibilant whispers of things yet to come. He wasn't certain which would break first, but he knew with an iron certainty that something would, no tide of well intentioned affection was enough to erase the knowledge from his mind. Though Tsuzuki tried, hands slipped beneath his shirt and he was lost against the power of his partner's touch, the heavy handed emotions flooding in as they stroked up his side. Erratic, unpredictable thoughts, and they drove him to distraction as he struggled to maintain some sense of self, clinging tightly to a single panicked thought among the deluge. They were synching, he could feel it and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it with his partner this close, this focused on breaching his defenses. 'No, Tsuzuki, no. You'll leave me if I let you.' The thought didn't make much sense on its own, without the weight of worry behind it and he couldn't bring himself to really look for that distress as Tsuzuki moved to suckle at his neck, purposeful swipes of tongue and teeth that searched out every vulnerable spot with the power of the connection flaring between them. He threw his head back with a keening cry as Tsuzuki's fingers closed around a nipple, worrying the flesh between them as his partner moved against him. He knew faintly, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was supposed to be objecting to this, meant to throw a fit and put a stop to the hands roaming his torso and the tongue that had moved to trail across his collarbone, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why. 'It's not important, Hisoka.' 'Tsuzuki...' 'I'm not going anywhere.' Tsuzuki was kissing him again, moving cradle his cheek, thumb tracing along his jaw line as Hisoka tipped his head forward and pressed himself against the warmth in his arms. So warm, so soft, so good, and he found he didn't really want to think anymore at all-- "Hey, are you guys alright?" The door slammed open as an intruder stumbled in with a wafting of cooler air and a battering of good natured concern that ripped into Hisoka's unguarded mind with the force of a blow. He wrenched away from Tsuzuki, gasping for air, turning from his partner to catch the alarmed gaze of a very embarrassed Minase Hijiri, who wrung his hands together and gaped as he seemed to realize all at once what it meant to find the two of them so entangled. "Oh." The violinist managed, and Hisoka snorted in annoyance, rolling into the warmth of his partner's body and patently ignoring the mortal where he sputtered and shifted in the doorway. "Maybe I should...go?" the boy added. "We'll be out in a minute, Hijiri," Tsuzuki promised, rubbing at Hisoka's back sympathetically, gingerly enough that Hisoka realized he'd probably managed a decent shock to the older man's system when he wrenched his mind out of synch. He buried his face against Tsuzuki's neck as the mortal stepped out with a murmured apology and closed the door, shutting his eyes and curling against his partner. He was being needy and normally he would have been ashamed of the impulse, but his head felt like it was filled with Styrofoam and he had no idea what he was going to do from here, if he could manage to keep his distance after this and if he was strong enough to let his partner go if he could not. He had no idea what the right answer was, what was expected of him or if there even was a correct course of action anymore, if it was worth it to hold back and allow the shadowed eyed man his leisure explaining himself or if... "Hisoka?" "Okay, ouch," he groaned, words muffled against Tsuzuki's collar and his partner chuckled. "If you're well enough to bitch you must be okay," Tsuzuki commented, and Hisoka could almost feel the grin in the words. "Speak for yourself," he muttered, nuzzling closer. "I feel like my mind's been gutted." "He doesn't mean anything by it, he's just a little overeager to--" "Minase didn't do anything I didn't ask for letting my guard down, Tsuzuki." "Oh." A pause. "Then I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." There was actual contrition in those words and Hisoka sighed, forcing himself to pull away and sitting up to straighten his shirt from where his partner had rucked it around his chest. "You never do." He stood up, moved to where Tsuzuki had left his shoes by the bed the night before, slipping his feet into his sneakers and looking down at the rumpled clothing he had slept in. It would have to do until he could get home, he didn't have a change of clothes at the division and nothing Tsuzuki had packed up would fit him. "Hisoka," Tsuzuki started, moving to get up as Hisoka retrieved his jacket from a chair in the corner. "Stay." He waved a hand and Tsuzuki sat, eyes tracking his movements warily. "I need to go. I'm in yesterday's clothes, I feel gross and I need to be somewhere that Minase is not. That kid hurts my head." "You're angry," Tsuzuki said, voice small and defeated as his eyes flickered to the spiraling pattern of flowers on the comforter beneath him. "No," Hisoka answered, "I'm just...I need time. To think. Or something." And that was perhaps the understatement of the century. He needed time to think, alright, to weigh the consequences of his actions and how much he would be forced to reveal to placate both Tsuzuki and his shadow stalker. He needed time to digest what had just happened, what he had very nearly allowed Tsuzuki to do--No that wasn't fair, not allowed. Facilitated maybe, but that was as innocent as he was in all this. Despite his own unpleasant associations with intimacy he wasn't stupid enough to deny that he wanted Tsuzuki, probably more than was strictly healthy, but he wasn't certain if his reaction to his partner's touch had as much to do with his own needs as they did the overwhelming tide of overeager ardor that cascaded in when Tsuzuki kissed him. The dreams had never shown him that, the unnatural inundation and loss of self, and he could only assume that he'd either managed not to notice as he slipped into the mind of some future self who was used to it, or he had somehow learned to control it far better than he was able to now. If he wanted to remain in control of himself he was going to have to do some research. "And when you're done?" Tsuzuki was asking, and he could almost see the feathered tendrils of hope shimmering through his partner's aura as he digested Hisoka's words. He offered the man a small, apologetic smile. "I'll let you know." And with that he turned, collecting his book from where it had been left on a wicker chair, walking out the door and down the hall without a backward glance. He could feel Tsuzuki's eyes on his back the entire way. return to splash page