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gaudiorNot a sequel to Exorcism and Surpassing. That one's still in mid-revision. No, this is a random little sappy self-indulgence what came into my head and said, "Hey, write me, I'll be short and simple!" And, a week later, it's done. That's the last time I listen to a plot-bunny. The things lie.
And it's fluffy. Seriously fluffy. This is some alternate universe wherein Tsuzuki and Hisoka are nowhere near as fucked in the head.
Um, rated R for sexual content, profanity, and description of rape.
Fun
**********************************************************************
“Hey, Hisoka...”
“Mm?”
“Do you think Watari’s attractive?”
Hisoka drops the folder he’s holding. “...what?”
Tsuzuki shrugs. “I was just wondering...”
”How the hell should I know? What are you talking about?”
“Well... it’s interesting, you know? Because he’s a guy, right, but he wants to be a girl. And he kind of looks like a girl, and he kind of talks like one, so how do you know which you’re into?... Or do you not like guys at all?”
“I don’t like anyone, you idiot. It’s not interesting.”
“Oh. Sorry, Hisoka.”
“Mn.”
Tsuzuki sighs.
Hisoka clears his throat. “Do you think he’s attractive?”
“Me?” Tsuzuki runs a pen-cap along the page in front of him. “Sure.”
Hisoka stares for a long moment. “Why?”
Tsuzuki thinks about it. “Well, he’s so energetic. And he’s kinda pretty, with the hair and the eyes and everything.” He smirks. “And he keeps wearing leather pants. But that doesn’t tell me anything about the girl thing.”
“No,” Hisoka says. “It doesn’t.” There’s a long pause. “I never felt you being attracted to him.”
“Well... it’s not like it’s a burning passion or anything. Guess I don’t have too many of those,” with a grin. “Lucky me. But sure, he’s attractive.”
“So you want to fuck him?”
The obscenity falls in the air, untidy and unexpected. Hisoka’s blushing. Tsuzuki’s expression is perfectly blank befuddlement for a moment. “I guess I would, if he asked. I mean, I’m not in love with him, but it can be fun, with friends.” His expression is contemplative, working on the next thing to say.
Hisoka doesn’t give him a chance. “Mn,” he says, and turns decisively back to the paperwork. He’s scowling.
***************************************************************************
Their assignment over, their target actually having gone willingly for once (she’d gotten lost between worlds, looking for her lover, and hadn’t been able to find her way back to her body once her lover was safe. They redirected her. She was very grateful.), it would be sheer idiocy on their part to go right back to the office without taking part in the shrine festival where they found her. Tsuzuki makes this perfectly clear. Hisoka sighs, but goes along with it. He’s alternated, over the past few days, between snapping at nothing and letting things go. “Tsuzuki...”
Tsuzuki’s absorbed in finishing his crepe. “Mm?”
“Is this fun?”
“Sure,” Tsuzuki says. “That went really well, don’t you think? We’ll definitely get a bonus. So we may as well spend it now...”
Oddly, Hisoka doesn’t bother to argue that piece of illogic. “But this is fun. The festival.”
”Of course,” Tsuzuki says, a hint of thoughtfulness creeping in under the cheer. “There are so many happy people here, and there’s so much to do, and things to see-- I’m having fun.” A slight pause. “Aren’t you?”
Hisoka shrugs. “But this is different than... than sex.” He’s blushing. Again.
Tsuzuki doesn’t mention it. He blinks. “Well... yeah. Definitely.”
Hisoka looks away. “How?”
Tsuzuki thinks about it. “Hm... they’re both exciting, I guess. And they both feel good. But sex is... more intense. And personal.” He’s blushing slightly too. “How come you’re interested all of a sudden?”
“I’m not,” Hisoka says. He walks on, hands in his pockets, scowling. Tsuzuki follows, not saying anything. “This isn’t what sex feels like at all.”
“...you said you weren’t interested in people?”
“I’m not,” Hisoka snaps. “But I can feel you. All the time.”
“Hm,” Tsuzuki says, in the tone of a man who had had that fact, but never actually applied it to quite this subject. Or wanted to. “But... I haven’t, since we met...”
“But when Muraki...”
Muraki’s name comes up about once a month, these days. Usually because Hisoka’s swearing a bloody revenge. Not like this.
Tsuzuki’s face goes perfectly blank. “No,” he says. “That wasn’t fun.”
Hisoka looks stricken. “Sorry-- I--” He folds an arm across his chest, his own unconscious signal for your emotions are more than I can take right now. “Sorry. Never mind.”
“Right,” Tsuzuki says, shakily. “Um. Hey, look-- balloons.”
**************************************************************************
“I hadn’t realized you’d known about that, with Muraki.”
Hisoka glances over at his partner, who is staring off at the cherry blossoms falling to cling wetly to the rain-soaked ground. “Well... I feel things. You know. You’ve got... really strong emotions.”
Tsuzuki sighs a half-laugh. “Yeah.” The mist rises. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
Tsuzuki turns up his collar. “It must have been hard. Overhearing that.”
“I tried not to think about it.”
“Oh,” Tsuzuki says. “Good.” He smiles, and it would be convincing to anyone who didn’t have empathy.
Hisoka contemplates the dew on his sleeve. “It didn’t work. I still...”
“Mm?”
“I couldn’t think about anything else.”
“Oh.” Tsuzuki sounds terribly guilty. But Hisoka sighs, something having slipped into place. And when Tsuzuki briefly puts a hand on his shoulder, he leans into it, closing his eyes.
***************************************************************************
“But I am sorry,” Tsuzuki says. It’s been a few days, but the mist is back in the park. Maybe that’s what triggers the thought.
“What for now?”
Tsuzuki half-smiles, acknowledging the impatience. “Well, feeling that-- with me, and... and Muraki. That must have given you a really bad impression.”
“Idiot. It wasn’t your fault. He’s just evil.”
Tsuzuki takes a moment to process that. “Thanks. That’s not what I meant.” His hands dig deep into his pockets. “It must have given you a really bad impression of what sex is like.”
“This, again? You’ve got a dirty mind, you know that?”
“I just... didn’t want you to think it was always like that.”
Hisoka shrugs. “Okay.”
***************************************************************************
It’s only a few minutes later. “I don’t think about it at all. Sex.”
“Okay,” Tsuzuki says. He smiles. “We’re really different, huh?”
“What, because you’re a pervert?”
“Hey! Don’t be so mean!” But there’s a hint of uncertainty under the protest, a hope that this really is just a tease.
“Idiot,” Hisoka says, a reassurance. “I just have other things to think about.”
“Okay,” Tsuzuki says. The pause stretches. “Really? Never?”
“It’s so... distasteful.” The look that flashes over Hisoka’s face says he hadn’t meant to say that, but it’s too late now to take it back.
“Some people say it’s immoral,” Tsuzuki says, neutrally. “Especially with two guys.”
Hisoka shrugs his disinterest in ‘some people.’ “It’s fine for other people. I just don’t want to.”
“Okay,” Tsuzuki says. “Well, you don’t have to, then. No-one’s going to make you.”
The silence is very, very loud.
“Because I won’t let them,” Tsuzuki says. “Remember? I told you that way back when we became partners. Right?”
“It’s too wet out here,” Hisoka says. “I’m going inside.”
****************************************************************************
“Are you okay?”
”Fine.”
Tsuzuki smiles. “Good.” He turns back to his plate, his enthusiasm for the noodles less than it should be.
“You’re loud,” Hisoka says. “Quit feeling so guilty. You’re making me nervous.”
“Sorry, Hisoka.”
“I don’t care about what you said yesterday.”
“Okay... well... good.” Long pause. “Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t. How would you know?”
“I’ve got eyes.” At Hisoka’s look of fury. “Never mind, never mind! It’s okay. I won’t bring it up again. You don’t care. Fine.”
“I don’t.” Hisoka stands, throws his jacket on, and leaves the restaurant.
“Hisoka!” Tsuzuki throws bills on the table and hurries after him.
They walk in silence for a while. “It was a stupid thing to say,” Hisoka says.
Tsuzuki doesn’t disagree, but, “Why?”
“That should be obvious!”
Tsuzuki shrugs. “Sorry...”
Hisoka scowls. Tsuzuki’s smile fades.
They keep walking.
“Because you can’t,” Hisoka says.
“Can’t what?”
“Protect me,” Hisoka says.
Tsuzuki stops walking. Hisoka turns to him. “I... I know,” Tsuzuki says. “But I can try, Hisoka. And I do try.”
Hisoka’s hand clenches around the sleeve of his shoulder. “I know. That’s not... It’s too late, all right? There’s no point in protecting me now. It already happened.”
“...when?”
“When Muraki killed me.” Tsuzuki’s fists clench. Hisoka goes on. “He didn’t just curse me. Not right away.”
The passersby seem very close. There is something very strange about having this conversation out on the street, in the middle of shop windows and traffic lights.
“He...” Hisoka says, and chokes.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Tsuzuki says.
“What?”
“I can guess from that,” Tsuzuki says. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to.”
Hisoka glares. “What, you don’t want to hear?”
Tsuzuki shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, I do. It’s just, sometimes it’s hard to talk about...”
“No, you don’t,” Hisoka snaps. “You don’t want to think about it. You’re wincing. You’re upset.” Tsuzuki’s calm, reassuring demeanor hasn’t changed. “You hate this.”
”No,” Tsuzuki says. “Really. Tell me.”
“No,” Hisoka says. “Forget it.”
*****************************************************************************
“Tsuzuki-san? Might I have a moment of your time?”
Tsuzuki follows Tatsumi into his office, frowning. The secretary isn’t usually that formal when he wants something from him (like finished invoices, say). “What’s up?”
Tatsumi closes the door behind them and gestures Tsuzuki to a seat. “How are you?”
“Pretty good. Why?”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Tatsumi says, not smiling. “And Kurosaki-kun?”
”He’s fine,” Tsuzuki says, and it’s not technically a lie. After all, Hisoka hasn’t spoken a word to him that isn’t related to work in three days-- he has no definite proof that Hisoka isn’t fine. And he’s quite sure Tatsumi doesn’t want to hear the reasons that he knows damn well Hisoka isn’t.
“Tsuzuki-san...” Tatsumi steeples his fingers in front of his face. “You two have a very productive working partnership.”
Tsuzuki hides a curious frown. “Thanks?”
The shadows shiver in the corners. “And it is important to the office that it stays that way.”
“Eh,” Tsuzuki says. “Don’t worry. He already nagged me about those reports this morning...”
“No,” Tatsumi says sharply. Tsuzuki subsides. “I’m glad to hear that,” Tatsumi says, a momentary sparkle of humor. “But there are other aspects of a partnership than simply those having to do with paperwork, Tsuzuki-san.” His voice is gentle, years whispering through it. “Those are more important in the long run.”
“Tatsumi...”
Tatsumi clears his throat. “I have already had this conversation with Kurosaki-kun. Many months ago. I should have had it with you sooner, but...”
“It’s okay.”
“And up until now, I hadn’t seen a need.” Tatsumi’s gaze is distant, blue eyes darkly thoughtful. “I have watched you two since your first meeting, and I have been... pleased. You complement each other. And you support each other. He went into the inferno after you when I did not, Tsuzuki-san.”
“I told you that that’s okay,” Tsuzuki says. “You’re a good friend. I appreciate your... respecting my choices.”
Tatsumi leaves that subject. “He cares about you deeply. It’s hard to imagine sometimes that he would care about anyone that deeply, but it’s clearly there.”
“Yeah. And...?”
”And you two have been acting like strangers all week,” Tatsumi says. “What goes on between the two of you is clearly none of my business, Tsuzuki-san, and I don’t want to be rude. But it is noticeable. And it is not good for your work. Or for you.”
“It’s not that bad...”
“Tsuzuki-san.”
Tsuzuki’s left hand has strayed to his right wrist. “It’s not that bad.”
“He’s very young,” Tatsumi says. “Mature for his age in many ways, and his heart is in the right place, but he lacks experience. You don’t.”
Tsuzuki breathes out an unhappy laugh. “Guess that’s an understatement, huh?”
“Perhaps,” Tatsumi says. “You should talk to him.”
“I know,” Tsuzuki says. “I know.”
****************************************************************************
It’s late, and Hisoka can’t remember the last time someone rang his doorbell. He opens the door. “What is it?”
“Hi,” Tsuzuki says. “Can I come in?”
It’s after midnight. Hisoka would be perfectly justified in telling him to go away until morning. “Whatever,” he says, standing away from the door.
Tsuzuki comes in, ducking down to take off his shoes and lay them by the door. “Thanks,” he says.
Hisoka stands still, adjusting his hastily thrown-on shirt and pants. His arms are crossed.
Tsuzuki drifts further into the apartment, tossing his coat on the couch. “You were right,” he says. “I don’t like talking about that kind of thing. I’d rather just forget about it.”
Hisoka shrugs, following him in and leaning against a bookshelf. “So forget about it.”
Tsuzuki sinks onto the couch next to his coat. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“I let you down,” Tsuzuki says. “You needed to talk. You wanted to tell me, and I just shut you down. I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hisoka snaps, glancing at the clock and the door. “Maybe you’re right-- it’s better not to talk about. It doesn’t do any good. I don’t feel like saying anything now, anyway.”
Tsuzuki’s chin rests on his interlaced fingers, his eyes very far away.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I didn’t notice anything at first,” Tsuzuki says softly. “Anything around me, I mean. I just kept seeing poor Mariko-chan’s face. And hearing her voice, telling me she was hurting, I was killing her, it was all my fault... I didn’t even know where I was until he started taking my clothes off.”
Hisoka sits down.
Tsuzuki tries to meet his eyes. It doesn’t work. He swallows. “And then I struggled, I told him to stop. He just laughed. And kissed me, and I tried to pull away, but he was holding me down. And he already had my pants off, and I thought I should do something, but...”
”He’s strong,” Hisoka says to the floor.
“Yeah,” Tsuzuki says. “I told him to stop. He held me down and put his hand on me, and it felt...”
”Disgusting.”
”Good.”
”Yeah.” Hisoka's voice is shaky. “It shouldn't have felt good.”
“But it did.”
“And I’d never felt anything like that. Ever.”
They’re still not meeting each other’s eyes. “And he saw it. And he kept saying yes, Tsuzuki-san, see your true desire, things like that, and all I could think was, he’s still calling me ‘-san’? Isn’t this sort of the definition of informal?”
“’Puppet.’ And ‘doll.’ Like I wasn’t real.”
“’Doll,’ yeah. And ‘beloved.’ He’s got this whole doll... thing.”
“He’s out of his fucking mind.”
“No argument.”
A moment, the tension breathing away and back. They do look at each other, just for a moment, long enough to see the tears starting, held back. “I--” Tsuzuki starts, and looks away. “I should have fought more.”
“I couldn’t. He was too strong. I screamed, but no-one heard me. No-one came. Everyone was gone except for him.”
”It felt like that. Like the whole world was just him and me.”
“I hated it. I hated him. He was disgusting. He put his mouth on me, and he made me-- I hate him. He made my body... do things. I hate him.”
“...yeah.”
“And then when he...”
“He turned me over. On my face.”
“He just held me down. I could see him, when I didn’t close my eyes. I could see his face. He was staring at me like that, I couldn’t get away from his stare, and then...”
“It hurt.”
“Nothing had ever hurt that much.”
“But it was almost like-- that was it. Everything else went away. He kept saying I was his now, and I kind of... of believed him. And it was almost...”
“I don’t understand.”
Tsuzuki’s shaking. “Like, I was his. Just a thing for him to use, just his toy. So I wasn’t anything else. I wasn’t a killer, I wasn’t a... a demon, I was just... I was just his whore. And that was... I didn’t try to stop him. I could have called the shikigami. I didn’t. I just let him hurt me. It was... it was appropriate. I deserved it.”
“No,” Hisoka whispers.
“I didn’t want to be me. I didn’t have any reason to be me. So being his was better.” He’s looking to Hisoka’s face now, terrified of what he’ll see. “I have a reason, now. I wouldn’t let him now. I’m not his.”
“No,” Hisoka says more strongly, and doesn’t say now you’re mine. But he does reach over and take Tsuzuki’s hand. It’s larger than his, darker. Their hands interlock.
“But I am still his,” Hisoka says. “He marked me. He cut...” The marks are standing up scarlet on his skin now, burning themselves into Tsuzuki’s vision. “And he didn’t stop, even when I begged. It felt like he was cutting me for days.”
“I think he might have been cutting me that long,” Tsuzuki says. “I couldn’t tell.”
“He was,” Hisoka confirms. “We couldn’t get you out. We couldn’t find you. We tried.”
Tsuzuki squeezes his hand. “I hadn’t thought of that. Really?”
“Of course!” It’s more animation than Hisoka’s had yet. “We were going nuts, trying to get you back.”
Tsuzuki closes his eyes. “I felt so alone. Just him and me.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that no-one came for you.”
Hisoka shakes his head. “No-one would have. They didn’t have any reason to.”
“You’re enough of a reason.”
“To you,” Hisoka says. “I dream about it sometimes. And... and I call your name.”
“I’d come,” Tsuzuki says. “In a second. I’d save you.”
“You’re here now.”
”Yeah. I am.”
“So am I.”
Tsuzuki sighs. “Thank you.”
Hisoka’s holding his hand so tightly it hurts. “What are you feeling guilty for?”
“Oh.” Tsuzuki’s expression is painful. “It’s not fair. That I could have gotten away and I didn’t. You couldn’t have, and you... really wanted to.”
“Yeah... So now you hate him and you. I think I have it easier just hating him.” He frowns. “I never thought I’d think I was lucky for any part of that.”
There’s a hint of a smile on Tsuzuki’s face. “Glad to oblige.”
“It’s not fair,” Hisoka says. “None of it. It shouldn’t have happened to you or me. I want him dead.”
“I know,” Tsuzuki says. “But sometimes...”
“What?”
“Well... I’d rather you didn’t. I mean... I’d rather you didn’t care so much. That neither of us did.” He sighs. “He wasn’t... that wasn’t the first time that happened to me. That doesn’t make it better, but... it doesn’t have to be awful forever, you know? There are other things in life.”
“I’m not going to just forget about it. He killed me.”
“I know.”
“And he hurt you.”
Tsuzuki blinks at him, wide-eyed. “You hate him for that, too?”
Hisoka swallows. “Mostly that. These days.”
“Oh,” Tsuzuki says.
Hisoka pulls him close.
****************************************************************************
“But still...”
Tsuzuki’s breakfast bowl is, oddly enough, not empty yet. Maybe the conversation last night is affecting his appetite as much as Hisoka’s. “Hm?”
“Eh. It doesn’t matter.”
Hisoka looks back down at his egg and rice.
“But he’s not here,” Tsuzuki says. “We are.”
“He’s still alive.”
“Yeah. I know. But Hisoka... you can’t live your whole life thinking about something like that.”
“You do.”
“What?”
“...never mind.”
Tsuzuki’s got that shocked-vulnerable-not-quite-crying look on his face again. Then he shakes it off. “It’s not... you can’t stop trying, though. You can’t make things not have happened, that’s true, but it’s not good to let what happened in the past decide how you live now.” He smiles gently. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to be friends with you, you know?”
Tsuzuki’s past partners are something Hisoka thinks about more often than he cares to admit. “So...?”
“So why let him keep running your life?” Tsuzuki asks, a gentle intensity under the casual tone.
“I don’t have a life. I’m dead. Because of him.”
Tsuzuki blows out his breath. “I know.”
“I do my job. I think about other people besides him. I read.”
“True.”
“And I wasn’t interested in sex before I met him, anyway.”
“... you were thirteen.”
“So? Maybe that’s just the way I am. There are people who just don’t think about that kind of thing. Look at Tatsumi.”
Tsuzuki coughs.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Next
And it's fluffy. Seriously fluffy. This is some alternate universe wherein Tsuzuki and Hisoka are nowhere near as fucked in the head.
Um, rated R for sexual content, profanity, and description of rape.
Fun
**********************************************************************
“Hey, Hisoka...”
“Mm?”
“Do you think Watari’s attractive?”
Hisoka drops the folder he’s holding. “...what?”
Tsuzuki shrugs. “I was just wondering...”
”How the hell should I know? What are you talking about?”
“Well... it’s interesting, you know? Because he’s a guy, right, but he wants to be a girl. And he kind of looks like a girl, and he kind of talks like one, so how do you know which you’re into?... Or do you not like guys at all?”
“I don’t like anyone, you idiot. It’s not interesting.”
“Oh. Sorry, Hisoka.”
“Mn.”
Tsuzuki sighs.
Hisoka clears his throat. “Do you think he’s attractive?”
“Me?” Tsuzuki runs a pen-cap along the page in front of him. “Sure.”
Hisoka stares for a long moment. “Why?”
Tsuzuki thinks about it. “Well, he’s so energetic. And he’s kinda pretty, with the hair and the eyes and everything.” He smirks. “And he keeps wearing leather pants. But that doesn’t tell me anything about the girl thing.”
“No,” Hisoka says. “It doesn’t.” There’s a long pause. “I never felt you being attracted to him.”
“Well... it’s not like it’s a burning passion or anything. Guess I don’t have too many of those,” with a grin. “Lucky me. But sure, he’s attractive.”
“So you want to fuck him?”
The obscenity falls in the air, untidy and unexpected. Hisoka’s blushing. Tsuzuki’s expression is perfectly blank befuddlement for a moment. “I guess I would, if he asked. I mean, I’m not in love with him, but it can be fun, with friends.” His expression is contemplative, working on the next thing to say.
Hisoka doesn’t give him a chance. “Mn,” he says, and turns decisively back to the paperwork. He’s scowling.
***************************************************************************
Their assignment over, their target actually having gone willingly for once (she’d gotten lost between worlds, looking for her lover, and hadn’t been able to find her way back to her body once her lover was safe. They redirected her. She was very grateful.), it would be sheer idiocy on their part to go right back to the office without taking part in the shrine festival where they found her. Tsuzuki makes this perfectly clear. Hisoka sighs, but goes along with it. He’s alternated, over the past few days, between snapping at nothing and letting things go. “Tsuzuki...”
Tsuzuki’s absorbed in finishing his crepe. “Mm?”
“Is this fun?”
“Sure,” Tsuzuki says. “That went really well, don’t you think? We’ll definitely get a bonus. So we may as well spend it now...”
Oddly, Hisoka doesn’t bother to argue that piece of illogic. “But this is fun. The festival.”
”Of course,” Tsuzuki says, a hint of thoughtfulness creeping in under the cheer. “There are so many happy people here, and there’s so much to do, and things to see-- I’m having fun.” A slight pause. “Aren’t you?”
Hisoka shrugs. “But this is different than... than sex.” He’s blushing. Again.
Tsuzuki doesn’t mention it. He blinks. “Well... yeah. Definitely.”
Hisoka looks away. “How?”
Tsuzuki thinks about it. “Hm... they’re both exciting, I guess. And they both feel good. But sex is... more intense. And personal.” He’s blushing slightly too. “How come you’re interested all of a sudden?”
“I’m not,” Hisoka says. He walks on, hands in his pockets, scowling. Tsuzuki follows, not saying anything. “This isn’t what sex feels like at all.”
“...you said you weren’t interested in people?”
“I’m not,” Hisoka snaps. “But I can feel you. All the time.”
“Hm,” Tsuzuki says, in the tone of a man who had had that fact, but never actually applied it to quite this subject. Or wanted to. “But... I haven’t, since we met...”
“But when Muraki...”
Muraki’s name comes up about once a month, these days. Usually because Hisoka’s swearing a bloody revenge. Not like this.
Tsuzuki’s face goes perfectly blank. “No,” he says. “That wasn’t fun.”
Hisoka looks stricken. “Sorry-- I--” He folds an arm across his chest, his own unconscious signal for your emotions are more than I can take right now. “Sorry. Never mind.”
“Right,” Tsuzuki says, shakily. “Um. Hey, look-- balloons.”
**************************************************************************
“I hadn’t realized you’d known about that, with Muraki.”
Hisoka glances over at his partner, who is staring off at the cherry blossoms falling to cling wetly to the rain-soaked ground. “Well... I feel things. You know. You’ve got... really strong emotions.”
Tsuzuki sighs a half-laugh. “Yeah.” The mist rises. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
Tsuzuki turns up his collar. “It must have been hard. Overhearing that.”
“I tried not to think about it.”
“Oh,” Tsuzuki says. “Good.” He smiles, and it would be convincing to anyone who didn’t have empathy.
Hisoka contemplates the dew on his sleeve. “It didn’t work. I still...”
“Mm?”
“I couldn’t think about anything else.”
“Oh.” Tsuzuki sounds terribly guilty. But Hisoka sighs, something having slipped into place. And when Tsuzuki briefly puts a hand on his shoulder, he leans into it, closing his eyes.
***************************************************************************
“But I am sorry,” Tsuzuki says. It’s been a few days, but the mist is back in the park. Maybe that’s what triggers the thought.
“What for now?”
Tsuzuki half-smiles, acknowledging the impatience. “Well, feeling that-- with me, and... and Muraki. That must have given you a really bad impression.”
“Idiot. It wasn’t your fault. He’s just evil.”
Tsuzuki takes a moment to process that. “Thanks. That’s not what I meant.” His hands dig deep into his pockets. “It must have given you a really bad impression of what sex is like.”
“This, again? You’ve got a dirty mind, you know that?”
“I just... didn’t want you to think it was always like that.”
Hisoka shrugs. “Okay.”
***************************************************************************
It’s only a few minutes later. “I don’t think about it at all. Sex.”
“Okay,” Tsuzuki says. He smiles. “We’re really different, huh?”
“What, because you’re a pervert?”
“Hey! Don’t be so mean!” But there’s a hint of uncertainty under the protest, a hope that this really is just a tease.
“Idiot,” Hisoka says, a reassurance. “I just have other things to think about.”
“Okay,” Tsuzuki says. The pause stretches. “Really? Never?”
“It’s so... distasteful.” The look that flashes over Hisoka’s face says he hadn’t meant to say that, but it’s too late now to take it back.
“Some people say it’s immoral,” Tsuzuki says, neutrally. “Especially with two guys.”
Hisoka shrugs his disinterest in ‘some people.’ “It’s fine for other people. I just don’t want to.”
“Okay,” Tsuzuki says. “Well, you don’t have to, then. No-one’s going to make you.”
The silence is very, very loud.
“Because I won’t let them,” Tsuzuki says. “Remember? I told you that way back when we became partners. Right?”
“It’s too wet out here,” Hisoka says. “I’m going inside.”
****************************************************************************
“Are you okay?”
”Fine.”
Tsuzuki smiles. “Good.” He turns back to his plate, his enthusiasm for the noodles less than it should be.
“You’re loud,” Hisoka says. “Quit feeling so guilty. You’re making me nervous.”
“Sorry, Hisoka.”
“I don’t care about what you said yesterday.”
“Okay... well... good.” Long pause. “Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t. How would you know?”
“I’ve got eyes.” At Hisoka’s look of fury. “Never mind, never mind! It’s okay. I won’t bring it up again. You don’t care. Fine.”
“I don’t.” Hisoka stands, throws his jacket on, and leaves the restaurant.
“Hisoka!” Tsuzuki throws bills on the table and hurries after him.
They walk in silence for a while. “It was a stupid thing to say,” Hisoka says.
Tsuzuki doesn’t disagree, but, “Why?”
“That should be obvious!”
Tsuzuki shrugs. “Sorry...”
Hisoka scowls. Tsuzuki’s smile fades.
They keep walking.
“Because you can’t,” Hisoka says.
“Can’t what?”
“Protect me,” Hisoka says.
Tsuzuki stops walking. Hisoka turns to him. “I... I know,” Tsuzuki says. “But I can try, Hisoka. And I do try.”
Hisoka’s hand clenches around the sleeve of his shoulder. “I know. That’s not... It’s too late, all right? There’s no point in protecting me now. It already happened.”
“...when?”
“When Muraki killed me.” Tsuzuki’s fists clench. Hisoka goes on. “He didn’t just curse me. Not right away.”
The passersby seem very close. There is something very strange about having this conversation out on the street, in the middle of shop windows and traffic lights.
“He...” Hisoka says, and chokes.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Tsuzuki says.
“What?”
“I can guess from that,” Tsuzuki says. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to.”
Hisoka glares. “What, you don’t want to hear?”
Tsuzuki shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, I do. It’s just, sometimes it’s hard to talk about...”
“No, you don’t,” Hisoka snaps. “You don’t want to think about it. You’re wincing. You’re upset.” Tsuzuki’s calm, reassuring demeanor hasn’t changed. “You hate this.”
”No,” Tsuzuki says. “Really. Tell me.”
“No,” Hisoka says. “Forget it.”
*****************************************************************************
“Tsuzuki-san? Might I have a moment of your time?”
Tsuzuki follows Tatsumi into his office, frowning. The secretary isn’t usually that formal when he wants something from him (like finished invoices, say). “What’s up?”
Tatsumi closes the door behind them and gestures Tsuzuki to a seat. “How are you?”
“Pretty good. Why?”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Tatsumi says, not smiling. “And Kurosaki-kun?”
”He’s fine,” Tsuzuki says, and it’s not technically a lie. After all, Hisoka hasn’t spoken a word to him that isn’t related to work in three days-- he has no definite proof that Hisoka isn’t fine. And he’s quite sure Tatsumi doesn’t want to hear the reasons that he knows damn well Hisoka isn’t.
“Tsuzuki-san...” Tatsumi steeples his fingers in front of his face. “You two have a very productive working partnership.”
Tsuzuki hides a curious frown. “Thanks?”
The shadows shiver in the corners. “And it is important to the office that it stays that way.”
“Eh,” Tsuzuki says. “Don’t worry. He already nagged me about those reports this morning...”
“No,” Tatsumi says sharply. Tsuzuki subsides. “I’m glad to hear that,” Tatsumi says, a momentary sparkle of humor. “But there are other aspects of a partnership than simply those having to do with paperwork, Tsuzuki-san.” His voice is gentle, years whispering through it. “Those are more important in the long run.”
“Tatsumi...”
Tatsumi clears his throat. “I have already had this conversation with Kurosaki-kun. Many months ago. I should have had it with you sooner, but...”
“It’s okay.”
“And up until now, I hadn’t seen a need.” Tatsumi’s gaze is distant, blue eyes darkly thoughtful. “I have watched you two since your first meeting, and I have been... pleased. You complement each other. And you support each other. He went into the inferno after you when I did not, Tsuzuki-san.”
“I told you that that’s okay,” Tsuzuki says. “You’re a good friend. I appreciate your... respecting my choices.”
Tatsumi leaves that subject. “He cares about you deeply. It’s hard to imagine sometimes that he would care about anyone that deeply, but it’s clearly there.”
“Yeah. And...?”
”And you two have been acting like strangers all week,” Tatsumi says. “What goes on between the two of you is clearly none of my business, Tsuzuki-san, and I don’t want to be rude. But it is noticeable. And it is not good for your work. Or for you.”
“It’s not that bad...”
“Tsuzuki-san.”
Tsuzuki’s left hand has strayed to his right wrist. “It’s not that bad.”
“He’s very young,” Tatsumi says. “Mature for his age in many ways, and his heart is in the right place, but he lacks experience. You don’t.”
Tsuzuki breathes out an unhappy laugh. “Guess that’s an understatement, huh?”
“Perhaps,” Tatsumi says. “You should talk to him.”
“I know,” Tsuzuki says. “I know.”
****************************************************************************
It’s late, and Hisoka can’t remember the last time someone rang his doorbell. He opens the door. “What is it?”
“Hi,” Tsuzuki says. “Can I come in?”
It’s after midnight. Hisoka would be perfectly justified in telling him to go away until morning. “Whatever,” he says, standing away from the door.
Tsuzuki comes in, ducking down to take off his shoes and lay them by the door. “Thanks,” he says.
Hisoka stands still, adjusting his hastily thrown-on shirt and pants. His arms are crossed.
Tsuzuki drifts further into the apartment, tossing his coat on the couch. “You were right,” he says. “I don’t like talking about that kind of thing. I’d rather just forget about it.”
Hisoka shrugs, following him in and leaning against a bookshelf. “So forget about it.”
Tsuzuki sinks onto the couch next to his coat. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“I let you down,” Tsuzuki says. “You needed to talk. You wanted to tell me, and I just shut you down. I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hisoka snaps, glancing at the clock and the door. “Maybe you’re right-- it’s better not to talk about. It doesn’t do any good. I don’t feel like saying anything now, anyway.”
Tsuzuki’s chin rests on his interlaced fingers, his eyes very far away.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I didn’t notice anything at first,” Tsuzuki says softly. “Anything around me, I mean. I just kept seeing poor Mariko-chan’s face. And hearing her voice, telling me she was hurting, I was killing her, it was all my fault... I didn’t even know where I was until he started taking my clothes off.”
Hisoka sits down.
Tsuzuki tries to meet his eyes. It doesn’t work. He swallows. “And then I struggled, I told him to stop. He just laughed. And kissed me, and I tried to pull away, but he was holding me down. And he already had my pants off, and I thought I should do something, but...”
”He’s strong,” Hisoka says to the floor.
“Yeah,” Tsuzuki says. “I told him to stop. He held me down and put his hand on me, and it felt...”
”Disgusting.”
”Good.”
”Yeah.” Hisoka's voice is shaky. “It shouldn't have felt good.”
“But it did.”
“And I’d never felt anything like that. Ever.”
They’re still not meeting each other’s eyes. “And he saw it. And he kept saying yes, Tsuzuki-san, see your true desire, things like that, and all I could think was, he’s still calling me ‘-san’? Isn’t this sort of the definition of informal?”
“’Puppet.’ And ‘doll.’ Like I wasn’t real.”
“’Doll,’ yeah. And ‘beloved.’ He’s got this whole doll... thing.”
“He’s out of his fucking mind.”
“No argument.”
A moment, the tension breathing away and back. They do look at each other, just for a moment, long enough to see the tears starting, held back. “I--” Tsuzuki starts, and looks away. “I should have fought more.”
“I couldn’t. He was too strong. I screamed, but no-one heard me. No-one came. Everyone was gone except for him.”
”It felt like that. Like the whole world was just him and me.”
“I hated it. I hated him. He was disgusting. He put his mouth on me, and he made me-- I hate him. He made my body... do things. I hate him.”
“...yeah.”
“And then when he...”
“He turned me over. On my face.”
“He just held me down. I could see him, when I didn’t close my eyes. I could see his face. He was staring at me like that, I couldn’t get away from his stare, and then...”
“It hurt.”
“Nothing had ever hurt that much.”
“But it was almost like-- that was it. Everything else went away. He kept saying I was his now, and I kind of... of believed him. And it was almost...”
“I don’t understand.”
Tsuzuki’s shaking. “Like, I was his. Just a thing for him to use, just his toy. So I wasn’t anything else. I wasn’t a killer, I wasn’t a... a demon, I was just... I was just his whore. And that was... I didn’t try to stop him. I could have called the shikigami. I didn’t. I just let him hurt me. It was... it was appropriate. I deserved it.”
“No,” Hisoka whispers.
“I didn’t want to be me. I didn’t have any reason to be me. So being his was better.” He’s looking to Hisoka’s face now, terrified of what he’ll see. “I have a reason, now. I wouldn’t let him now. I’m not his.”
“No,” Hisoka says more strongly, and doesn’t say now you’re mine. But he does reach over and take Tsuzuki’s hand. It’s larger than his, darker. Their hands interlock.
“But I am still his,” Hisoka says. “He marked me. He cut...” The marks are standing up scarlet on his skin now, burning themselves into Tsuzuki’s vision. “And he didn’t stop, even when I begged. It felt like he was cutting me for days.”
“I think he might have been cutting me that long,” Tsuzuki says. “I couldn’t tell.”
“He was,” Hisoka confirms. “We couldn’t get you out. We couldn’t find you. We tried.”
Tsuzuki squeezes his hand. “I hadn’t thought of that. Really?”
“Of course!” It’s more animation than Hisoka’s had yet. “We were going nuts, trying to get you back.”
Tsuzuki closes his eyes. “I felt so alone. Just him and me.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that no-one came for you.”
Hisoka shakes his head. “No-one would have. They didn’t have any reason to.”
“You’re enough of a reason.”
“To you,” Hisoka says. “I dream about it sometimes. And... and I call your name.”
“I’d come,” Tsuzuki says. “In a second. I’d save you.”
“You’re here now.”
”Yeah. I am.”
“So am I.”
Tsuzuki sighs. “Thank you.”
Hisoka’s holding his hand so tightly it hurts. “What are you feeling guilty for?”
“Oh.” Tsuzuki’s expression is painful. “It’s not fair. That I could have gotten away and I didn’t. You couldn’t have, and you... really wanted to.”
“Yeah... So now you hate him and you. I think I have it easier just hating him.” He frowns. “I never thought I’d think I was lucky for any part of that.”
There’s a hint of a smile on Tsuzuki’s face. “Glad to oblige.”
“It’s not fair,” Hisoka says. “None of it. It shouldn’t have happened to you or me. I want him dead.”
“I know,” Tsuzuki says. “But sometimes...”
“What?”
“Well... I’d rather you didn’t. I mean... I’d rather you didn’t care so much. That neither of us did.” He sighs. “He wasn’t... that wasn’t the first time that happened to me. That doesn’t make it better, but... it doesn’t have to be awful forever, you know? There are other things in life.”
“I’m not going to just forget about it. He killed me.”
“I know.”
“And he hurt you.”
Tsuzuki blinks at him, wide-eyed. “You hate him for that, too?”
Hisoka swallows. “Mostly that. These days.”
“Oh,” Tsuzuki says.
Hisoka pulls him close.
****************************************************************************
“But still...”
Tsuzuki’s breakfast bowl is, oddly enough, not empty yet. Maybe the conversation last night is affecting his appetite as much as Hisoka’s. “Hm?”
“Eh. It doesn’t matter.”
Hisoka looks back down at his egg and rice.
“But he’s not here,” Tsuzuki says. “We are.”
“He’s still alive.”
“Yeah. I know. But Hisoka... you can’t live your whole life thinking about something like that.”
“You do.”
“What?”
“...never mind.”
Tsuzuki’s got that shocked-vulnerable-not-quite-crying look on his face again. Then he shakes it off. “It’s not... you can’t stop trying, though. You can’t make things not have happened, that’s true, but it’s not good to let what happened in the past decide how you live now.” He smiles gently. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to be friends with you, you know?”
Tsuzuki’s past partners are something Hisoka thinks about more often than he cares to admit. “So...?”
“So why let him keep running your life?” Tsuzuki asks, a gentle intensity under the casual tone.
“I don’t have a life. I’m dead. Because of him.”
Tsuzuki blows out his breath. “I know.”
“I do my job. I think about other people besides him. I read.”
“True.”
“And I wasn’t interested in sex before I met him, anyway.”
“... you were thirteen.”
“So? Maybe that’s just the way I am. There are people who just don’t think about that kind of thing. Look at Tatsumi.”
Tsuzuki coughs.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Next
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Date: 2005-05-23 09:07 pm (UTC)I don't believe you...
Oh. Or do you mean when they tell you they're short? *bats eyes*