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Bzz-bzz.
“Let’s meet.”
Oh? He’d survived had he? Perhaps even won? Good.
“Where?” Illumi tip-tapped back.
“Usual.”
Hm. Of Hisoka’s texts these were certainly unorthodox; no flowery nonsense, no silly emojis…
“Too late for a reservation.”
“Shame.”
“Did you win?”
“I need to talk to you. In person.”
A prickle of apprehension nipped at him. This sounded important. Illumi didn’t let a second pass until his next message shot Hisoka’s way.
“Okay. Head on over to my apartment. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
Rain trickled down the windows of Illumi’s Yorknew apartment like tears, and distantly above the sky sobbed thunder. Drenched in yellowish light were a futon and a round table with its two chairs—one seating its owner. A pincushion, computer, and notebook had been shoved to the edge of the table, so that a box of recently ordered still-hot pizza, a bottle of wine, and two glasses may fit. The room’s carpet floor was a white, and would’ve mirrored the knobby popcorn ceiling if not for the jaundice tinge age had colored it with.
Knock knock
“Come in,” Illumi called from his seat. He knew who it was; that aura was unmistakable. It snuck in from under the door, like an oil spill oozing into the space darkly and smelling of death.
That prickle of apprehension went from nipping, to biting; it sank its teeth into Illumi.
Click
The doorknob turned.
Wheeeze
Slowly the door opened, exaggerating the winge of the hinges. With sloping posture, Hisoka entered the room. He was drenched head to toe. His hair, an extinguished flame, slumped over his brow, dripping.
“You’re in sorry shape,” Illumi commented. A little lump of worry formed in his throat, and quickly he swallowed it down.
Hisoka made a sound dreary in its attempt to imitate a chuckle.
“You can use my shower.”
Tracking a wet trail, Hisoka silently made his way to the bathroom. Illumi waited patiently in his chair until the man was finished; when Hisoka was, he exited wearing only a towel around his waist. His skin was smooth, flawless, and nipped a little pink from the water’s heat.
Illumi pointedly stared at the box of pizza before him.
“Thanks,” Hisoka murmured, dulcet and smooth; the syllable was a bite of caramel chocolate.
“No problem,” Illumi said. “You look better.”
The scent of Illumi’s body wash became overpowering as close to Illumi’s ear, the man then heard whispered, “You’re so kind.”
“Yes, you’re welcome.” Illumi nodded. Hisoka’s breath tickling his skin… his heart’s racing beat he stifled beneath trained technique. “Have a seat.” He quickly gestured towards the offered chair—business had waited long enough.
The offer he extended was begrudgingly accepted; Hisoka prowled to the vacant chair and slid into it, frowning.
Without asking, he flipped open the box of pizza now lukewarm, and plucked a slice. Illumi did not follow suit.
“What happened?”
“Might you humor me?” Hisoka pointed the yet unbitten slice towards Illumi. “Know of any nen exorcists?”
“What did Chrollo do to you?”
“Nothing. Only break my heart.”
Illumi breathed an invisible sigh of relief. Pouring the two of them some wine, he asked, “Meaning?”
“He can’t use his nen.” Hisoka’s groan was nearly too smooth to be dubbed one.”That’s why I need an exorcist; he’s been cursed.” Hisoka nibbled at his pizza and a drop of sauce escaped his lips, falling to his bare chest. That sauce was wiped up with a thumb next licked, slowly. “Forgive my messiness, hm?”
“Oh no, it’s fine,” Illumi deadpanned. He readjusted his stare straight back to Hisoka’s eyes, before the other could notice its wandering.
“Thank you. So…” Hisoka set his half eaten slice down. His head followed, coming to rest on arms crossed upon the table. “Know of an exorcist? With your connections…”
“I don’t, no.”
The bottom lip of Hisoka’s stuck out in an exaggerated pout. “Disappointing,” he murmured, as a hand raised to palm his face.
“Sorry.”
Hisoka, behind his hand, met that apology with silence.
“You didn’t come here to find an exorcist, Hisoka.”
“No…” Hisoka’s voice had adopted a hoarse tone. “I didn’t.”
“I see.”
That earned a smirk from Hisoka, who rose.
“Illumi…”
He of that name watched he who’d murmured it slowly slink close. Hisoka did so leaning over the table, hands crawling across as he approached. His shadow blanketed the cooling pizza, the last drops of the dampness remaining in his hair trickled and fell down into the melted cheese. Darkness crept down his face, his hair hiding all but his grinning lips from the yellow light above. Illumi’s concentration broke; his stare wandered to those lips and they had Illumi squeezing his knee until his nails drew blood. He’d hoped the pain would distract from what the lapse in concentration ushered in—memories: the taste of those lips, the warmth and softness of them against his and then the moans…
Hisoka’s elbow had snuck onto the table, propping up the fist his chin perched upon. Both men were eye level now.
Illumi’s grips on his knees relaxed, nails bloody; it’d been a hopeless endeavor from the start.
“Chrollo got me all excited, all worked up,” Hisoka chuckled. There was a lock of Illumi’s hair twirled around one of his fingers—Illumi hadn’t noticed when that’d happened. His senses so sharply honed should’ve noticed that happen.
“Hisoka…”
“You’ll help me, won’t you? I killed three men on the way here, but it still wasn’t enough.” Hisoka let the raven lock he’d held captive fall free, to grasp Illumi’s cheek instead. Their faces were very close, now. “I’m so worked up that it hurts. Won’t you take pity on me?”
Hisoka the magician, see, could perform quite the magic trick: with each intimate touch he conjured this “sweet ache” within Illumi. It clutched at Illumi’s chest, wrapped around his lungs with taffy and sticky bubblegum. The sweet ache squeezed his insides, loosened his muscles and laxed his senses.
Hisoka was a poison, put succinctly. Illumi was yet to be immunized, and part of him, most of him, hoped he never would be.
In a clutter of noise and the space of a gasp, Illumi was on his feet and Hisoka on his knees—the former’s hand tangled in his crimson locks. The table and its pizza and wine, forgotten.
Hisoka’s sweetly aching nectar he offered rarely, when the opportunity presented itself Illumi had to squeeze out every drop. Hisoka rubbing at Illumi’s thigh and cooing… Illumi had long since forgotten what it was like to be drunk, but imagined this sensation similar. It was a welcome reprieve.
It wasn’t rare; Hisoka had considered killing his lover tonight.
He’d break Illumi’s knees first; he’d delight in the sharp crack and the shudder of breath right after. Illumi’s long locks so dark would billow as he fell, to drape over his blood-sputtering face—the red would be trickling from his nostrils, bubbling from between his lips and oozing down his chin. That ruined face would… oh… stare up at him with what? Detestation? Disgust, disappointment, dismay? Then he’d bash it in with his knee, make Illumi swallow his own teeth with glee.
When Hisoka ran a sharp card down Illumi’s chest, and lapped up the blood as it leaked, would Illumi curse and spit at him? When he plunged a thumb into Illumi’s eye…
Would Illumi cry?
Rain battering the apartment windows, Hisoka ran his hands tenderly up Illumi’s bare thighs, trailing soft kisses in their wake. He was gentle, so very gentle, and Illumi’s breath stumbled over its cold rhythm.
Tears were what got Hisoka off the most; nothing was hotter than someone strong reduced to whimpering and sobbing at his feet.
His tongue laved up to Illumi’s abdomen, while he toyed with the waistband of the man’s underwear. Hisoka pressed a delicate kiss below Illumi’s navel. He smoothed a hand across the small of Illumi’s back, and delighted in the shudder it drew.
Illumi, broken—Illumi, sobbing—Imagining it had Hisoka’s eyes rolling into his skull.
Lightly pushing, he guided Illumi until a chair bumped the back of his lover’s legs and then he eased Illumi to sit. The man did so with a small sigh, and a hand of his sought out Hisoka’s hair to bury fingers amidst—possessive, similarly needy.
Their meeting had been one of mutual torture, each bloodily ravaging the other to a stalemate. He’d seen Illumi, an exquisite 95, and knew he had to destroy the man; It’d been a twisted love at first sight. He’d pounced before a word or second glance might be shared.
Illumi fought so deliciously—he was calculating and intelligent, yet ferocious too. Such fearsome finesse! Each traded blow throbbed straight to Hisoka’s down below until conscious thought abandoned him, an animalistic desire to break filling him to the brim.
Hisoka nipped at Illumi’s clavicle, then his shoulder, then his neck; each teased out a heavy breath. Next Hisoka went to nibble at Illumi’s ear but got his chin caught, pulled, and his teeth caught Illumi’s lower lip instead.
They kissed.
A needle in Hisoka’s bicep had rung his humerus like a wet towel, with such exquisite pain he himself nearly cried. The agony stunned him, and in that opportunity paralyzing needles flew to the rest of his limbs.
Illumi then disappeared, leaving him with just a broken bone and his life—and a need: to see the man a whimpering wreck.
Illumi kissed hungry, gobbling Hisoka’s mouth. The hand in Hisoka’s hair clenched painfully, holding his head close. Illumi always kissed like a drowning man, Hisoka a breath above cold water.
Months later, his injury healed, a letter had been pinned to his bed’s headboard. Within was a fat advance payment and the offer of a job. One to play with his food, Hisoka, on a whim, played along.
It'd turned out fun enough. He bode his time learning, preparing, until he could completely destroy Illumi, break him just right.
Both taking and giving, the assassin happened to be quite the asset until then.
When Hisoka finally pulled himself free Illumi was flushed and panting. He was clutching at Hisoka’s top with one hand and tangling the other in Hisoka’s hair, clinging tightly, breathing heavily. His stare was lost in Hisoka’s one golden. That gaze…
“Oh…” Hisoka thought with a grin, “To see it go watery with tears…”
Was it time yet? Hisoka’s blue-balled brain bounced the notion around and around. He’d been promised something good tonight, after all. Was sex enough? It was always good sex, true, part of the reason he hadn’t gotten around to offing Illumi yet, but…
“What are you smiling about?” Illumi asked, relinquishing his hold on Hisoka’s hair to trace the line of the man’s lips: soft, wet with shared spit.
“You, dear.”
Illumi let himself be hoisted up, embraced Hisoka’s bare torso tightly, and nuzzled into his neck. Against his warm skin Illumi murmured, “What do you mean?”
The tenderness was almost enough to make Hisoka gag.
Plopped onto the futon, Illumi raised his hand to Hisoka’s face, back to that grin. Hisoka let that touch spider over his features as he said,
“You’re just too handsome.”
Illumi’s touch retreated back to his own face. “You’re flattering me, Hisoka.”
Hisoka answered with a caress of the cheek, a kiss to the forehead. He twirled a lock of Illumi’s hair between his fingers, then kissed it too. He continued kissing: Illumi’s hand; the bridge of Illumi’s nose, then the tip of it; Illumi’s cheek; Illumi’s jaw, which he peppered with little kisses from ear to chin; Illumi’s throat. The urge to bite and chew was difficult to restrain.
He had to be gentle. Calm down… Calm down…
“Hisoka… that tickles.”
“I didn’t know you were ticklish.”
“...I’m not.”
Hisoka’s chuckle was stifled by another kiss, Illumi’s hands cradling his face. Hisoka played along with the dance of tongues, played along with the mutual groping and moaning.
“You’re good at kissing, Illu.”
“You’re flattering me again.”
“I’m not,” Hisoka said, as he ran a finger down Illumi’s clothed chest. He’d prefer that chest bare. He’d prefer it bloody.
Perhaps he really should kill him. It was just the two of them, and they could ravage each other the best way there was. He’d lose one of his favorite toys, but…
With slow grace, Hisoka relieved Illumi of his top. Illumi wiggled to help, eager. Hisoka could not help but pounce upon a perky nipple, and it took all his self restraint to only suckle and not mash it between his teeth. He licked and laved over the bud, and kissed it before retreating.
He considered plunging a hand deep between the pecs. He’d rend the ribs apart, grab the heart and squeeze…
Next went Illumi’s underpants; with a finger he teased away the waistband, teasingly snapped it, and did so twice more until unable to resist any longer he yanked. It shrieked to shreds with a sharp sound and there, revealed, Illumi’s achingly stiff cock. Hisoka threw the towel around his waist away, revealing his own. He’d been pent up too long, and looked it.
Should he? Aching, aching!
Illumi hid his face underneath a forearm, which Hisoka promptly swatted away. That face, red, breathing heavily… Hisoka had to bite his tongue lest it lick his lips.
“So pretty…” he cooed, and ran his hand softly across Illumi’s cheek. It took great effort to not have that hand tremble, with how worked up he was. To not take his nails across that pretty face, to to not tear off that nose…
Stop it, murmured a little speck of sense inside, Illumi’s more than a toy, he’s a tool.
Illumi murmured something inaudibly, a “mmn,” with cheeks reddening to ripe tomatoes.
“So… cute…” the hand on Illumi’s cheek itched to claw and clutch, to rip the soft skin straight off.
Stop it. Not yet. Can still use him.
“Hisoka…You’re…”
“Yes?”
“I should just kill you…”
“Aaah, go ahead, dear.” Hisoka’s thumb brushed softly over Illumi’s cheekbone. His other hand occupied itself with Illumi’s breast; it meandered over the thump of the other’s heartbeat and the swell of lungs he could pop with a poke…
Stop, Hisoka. Not yet. He’s a Zoldyck. Even if you skin him alive he won’t cry. It wouldn’t truly satisfy you.
“Hisoka…”
Hisoka…
“I’d plant a needle between your eyes…”
Control yourself…
“Mhm?”
“I’d order you around like a dog. Make you crawl on four legs, make you bark and beg for me.”
Hisoka retreated his fingers from Illumi’s face, to pop a pointer into his mouth. Spit mixed with blood as he bit down hard.
Illumi was useful. Should Hisoka earn a favor, the assassin could track a suitable exorcist, or Chrollo should the man flee, to the ends of the earth.
“Or maybe I’d poison you. Something which would stop your heart in an instant, painlessly. You wouldn’t like that though.”
Not yet…
Hisoka’s finger slid from his lips, slick and wet. Imagining it as soaked in Illumi’s blood got him so hard.
Not yet…
Not yet.
Not yet. not yet
Not yet not yet not yet
notyetnotyetnotyetnotyetnotyetnotyet
I can’t…!
A kiss. Another kiss. Illumi’s tongue snuck into Hisoka’s mouth. He grabbed Hisoka’s wrist, the one of the slickened finger, and guided it downward. Smoothly, Hisoka snuck that finger inside, into his guts. In there, the digit trembled.
A little squeak escaped Illumi, a sound shy like a mouse.
Hisoka rammed another finger inside, and the stretch shook a gasp from Illumi.
“Hisoka!”
“I know… I… I know…”
He nuzzled into Hisoka’s shoulder, and bit. Not enough to break skin, but enough to muffle another gasp.
The two men were so close together. Illumi’s heart beat against Hisoka’s chest.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Imagining holding that rhythm in the palm of his hand… Hisoka shuddered.
“I’m ready…” Illumi lifted himself off Hisoka’s fingers with a little hmph. When Hisoka didn’t move, he took the initiative; he slowly lowered himself, impaled himself, with small moans. The filling feeling, the slick sound, the tightness in his groin and chest… Illumi bit into Hisoka’s flesh again, harder.
Not enough to draw blood, though. If he’d drawn blood, like a shark smelling the scent Hisoka would’ve undoubtedly…
Illumi began to move again, pistoning himself up and down. Hisoka’s mind blanked, from his gut was punched a groan and Illumi he embraced in a clawing grasp.
“Good, good…”
“Hisoka…”
“So pretty, so handsome. So talented, strong, so perfect.” And I want to kill you.
“Hisoka…” Wide eyes began to water.
A deep thrust in, and Illumi choked back a moan. His hands flew to Hisoka’s shoulders, a man in icy waters clinging to a life buoy. His nails dug into skin, desperation drawing blood.
“Hisoka…ahh…”
“Yes, dear?” Each syllable was joined by a slap of skin and a heavy breath. Illumi’s eyes were beginning to water. Yes, ooh… Hisoka bit his bottom lip.
“Don’t… stop…”
“I won’t dear, you’re so good dear,” I want to kill you.
Illumi squirming, writhing, gasping and groaning beneath him, sobbing down his flushed red cheeks, his voice gone hoarse… it was so erotic Hisoka screamed the other’s name—he couldn’t help it. His hands flew to Illumi’s neck and began to squeeze, his thrusting pace doubled, his face twisted into a manic grin, he couldn’t help it.
It wasn’t as good as breaking kneecaps, but…
Beneath Hisoka Illumi began to gasp and choke, but the man’s arms remained in embrace of the other; his hands did not fly to his neck, he did not struggle. He only stared; wide eyes, pleading eyes, deliciously wet and red eyes sobbing. He hugged Hisoka close, hugged him tight like he’d never hugged another before, drowning in another warm body.
“Dear…” Hisoka went.
Breathless whimpers trickled out of Illumi’s throat. Illumi was crying and at Hisoka’s mercy.
Tears.
Hisoka came.
Illumi's head he laid upon Hisoka’s chest. He heard the thump-thump of Hisoka’s heart, felt the swell of Hisoka’s breaths, and that sweet ache consumed him head to toe. When Hisoka ran fingers... tentatively, through his hair, brushing against his scalp, Illumi thought he might explode.
What a strange sensation. It was addicting, and that was concerning.
He really should kill Hisoka soon.
Illumi awoke to a soft shuffling sound, followed by the click of the apartment door. Hisoka had left.
Illumi gripped his pillow tight, hugged it close to his chest. It still smelled of the other man, his scent mixed with Illumi’s shampoo.
Hisoka never held him till first light, never kissed him good morning.
Which was… good.
The sweet ache was gone, in its stead was a gaping nothing—yes, good, just like normal.
A few breaths, some freshening up, and though morning was still a few hours off he was raring to head back to work.