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The Longest Job

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The penthouse was somehow less quiet without Illumi there. The assassin had an aura that evaporated light and sound rather impressively and Hisoka was now aware of noises that weren’t there before. They were repairing the gym and the sound of the construction vibrated up the walls incessantly. There were airships outside that passed his window every hour. Even the sound of his ballpoint pen scratching along the surface of the daily crossword seemed to echo in the kitchen.

 

“How strange,” Hisoka said to no one.

 

Ping-pong sounded the alert in the den. He had a guest. Dragging along the newspaper with himself, Hisoka walked out into his den to the television screen and saw a group of girls -- oh, and a young man -- standing at the elevators.

 

“Master Hisoka, you have visitors. They are asking for autographs. Should I send them away?”

 

“Hmm… Yes.”

 

“Very well.” The television screen went dark.

 

The sound of a clock on the wall tick-tick-ticked in the room before Hisoka decided to go through Illumi’s things in his bedroom.

 

When he had everything -- clothes, weapons, books, hair products -- spread out across his floor and bed, Hisoka snapped a picture and sent it his way.

 

He received a response about an hour later.

 

13:44 Illumi: Do not touch my things.

13:44 Hisoka: Too late for that.

13:45 Illumi: Are you bored?

13:45 Hisoka: Terribly. *-_-v Will you entertain me?

13:46 Illumi: No. Stop bothering me.

13:46 Hisoka: What’re you doing?

13:49 Hisoka: Is it fun?

13:52 Hisoka: So mean.

 

He whipped out a card, the six of spades, and whipped it at the wall. It embedded deep and sat there unmoving.

 


 

Illumi was working with Kalluto and it was, in fact, fun. They were deep in the Azian continent, surrounded by a thick forest of bamboo, waiting for a package drop-off from a biplane above. They sat perched on the ground, damp and sweaty from running through the lush wood for several hours.

 

They hadn’t said a word to each other, yet.

 

Finally a plane buzzed overhead. Illumi could hear the high-pitched squeal of the package cutting through the air, whizzing towards the ground very fast. He shot a look to Kalluto, who read the mental instruction perfectly, nodding. He launched himself into the air, far above the trees, caught the package, and landed back down very quietly.

 

Illumi took the box from him and pulled open the screwed top with ease, snapping some of the wood off in the process. Inside, clear tightly-wrapped packages of thick white powder laid in rows beside packages of thick green leaves. It was a drug drop.

 

Kalluto reached inside and pulled two packages of each type into his robe, fastening them there. Illumi opened one of each. He tasted the white -- and his eyes darted back and forth as his taste buds deciphered exactly what it contained. It was almost a perfectly pure substance. He did the same with the green, but smelled it instead.

 

“It is good,” he said. Kalluto nodded. He reached down and lifted the wooden box above his head and motioned. “Run in front.” They had several hours until they returned to the city by foot. “Text father and inform him that the drop was successful.”

 

“Yes, brother,” Kalluto replied dutifully, pulling out his phone. He sent a message to Silva and pulled open another and sent something else, too. He and Illumi began to run.

 

“Who else are you messaging?” Illumi asked.

 

“One of my associates,” Kalluto said. “His name is Phinks.”

 

“Of the Ryodan.”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“Are they privy to this deal?”

 

“They mean to steal it from our client shortly after we drop it off.”

 

Illumi looked forward. “How much are they paying you for information?”

 

“Two million,” Kalluto said.

 

His little brother was earning more money than he was. “Why so high?” The amount of cargo they were taking wasn’t worth one-fourth of that.

 

“It’s part of a much larger deal,” Kalluto explained, “I’ll be distributing some valuable information after this is taken.”

 

“I see,” Illumi said. He glanced to the side, at Kalluto, who looked back curiously. “You’re doing quite well. Once, a long time ago, I was hired to kill some members of the Ryodan. They ended up paying me off.” It was one of his biggest payouts ever, too. He wondered if perhaps he should have joined them. But the idea of working under someone who wasn’t his father was very unappealing, in the end.

 

Kalluto went a little red in the face and kept going. “I know, actually. They mentioned you once.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Phinks doesn’t like your aura. He said it was -- ah -- creepy.”

 

Illumi blinked. “Creepy?”

 

Kalluto shrugged. “I didn’t get it, either.”

 

“What about your aura?”

 

“They all say it’s -- elegant.”

 

“Like mother’s,” Illumi said. He felt a swell of pride.

 

“Yes,” Kalluto agreed, still pink in the cheeks. He smiled. Illumi smiled back. “Phinks says I’m compatible with most people because of it. That it will be an advantage to me.”

 

Illumi looked forward again. Compatibility? His own aura was black and swirling like a forceful rainfall during the night. Before he even knew what he was thinking, he compared his aura to Hisoka’s -- Illumi was an unending drowning storm and Hisoka was a purpleish mountain that grew deep into the sky, ever-tall and lush with predatory strength.

 

They seemed quite compatible, too. Like water and earth.

 

“Illumi?” Kalluto chirped, and Illumi went out of his fantasy so quickly that the box he held cracked beneath the weight of his hands. “Are you okay?”

 

Illumi kept his face trained neutral. “I am alright.”

 


 

A few days later, he got a text.

 

15:30 Hisoka: Are you still alive?

15:35 Illumi: I am.

15:36 Hisoka: Just checking.

15:40 Hisoka: How’s Azia?

15:40 Illumi: Damp.

15:41 Hisoka: I bet your hair’s a mess.

 

Illumi had finally tied it up into a bun at the very top of his head because it was, in fact, a mess. Knotted, heavy.

 

15:42 Illumi: It is.

15:42 Hisoka: That shower that you hate here in the tower probably doesn’t seem so terrible now, eh?

15:43 Illumi: It is is still quite unappealing.

15:44 Hisoka: You can use my bathtub when you get back.

15:45 Illumi: Thank you.

 


 

Almost two weeks later, Illumi stepped out of his car and onto the sidewalk before Celestial Tower. His lip had a small cut down the middle, but that was the only sign of the struggle he and his youngest brother had faced with their drug deal.

 

They’d left nearly a whole town slaughtered after all was said and done. He didn’t care; he had his money for the move to Yorkshin and enough to afford a substantial flat downtown. Half of his personal mission was done.

 

The other half would be finished today.

 

The sidewalk was a madhouse, crammed with people shoving and screaming in disarrayed lines as they tried to reach the doors to the tower. Everyone wanted to watch Battle Olympia; more than half the country had money invested in these fights. Illumi, as occupied as he had been in his mission, hadn’t gotten the chance to look up the odds. He wondered how high Hisoka would be in the predictions.

 

He already knew the outcome using his own mental math, so when he went inside (scaling the side of the building to enter on the thirtieth floor), he went straight to a betting desk and made his predictions.

 

Fight One: Hisoka v Turnar - Hisoka wins, 10-0.

Fight Two: Hisoka v Tsuzura - Hisoka wins, 10-0.

Fight Three: Hisoka v Xoxo - Xoxo wins, 10-9.

 

Should he be correct in his estimations, Illumi would have some pocket change for the next few months, at least.

 

“Nothing on the grand finale? Only betting on Hisoka’s fights?” The attendant said, counting Illumi’s prediction slips.

 

“I do not care about anything else,” Illumi said.

 

“Fair ‘nough. Don’t lose this receipt,” he said, handing Illumi a sheet of paper. Illumi hid it within his shirt and nodded, walking away. Someone immediately took his place at the betting counter.

 

The first round of fights had just begun and those who couldn’t get seats in the actual stadium were crowding around the flat panel televisions that hung off the ceiling every few feet in the tower. Illumi moved his way around the groups.

 

“Hisoka, who has never lost a fight in Heaven’s Arena, is going to meet his match today in Turnar -- another competitor with a perfect record!” The announcer said. Illumi boarded an elevator, shutting out the noise, and went up to the penthouse.

 

It was quiet when he arrived. Sighing, Illumi reached up and let his hair down for the first time in days. His scalp ached as the black mass fell over his shoulders and he sighed, quietly, reaching up to massage his head. He had to get showered and changed; he wanted to be in the audience for the Xoxo fight.

 

He had a feeling it would be quite the show.

 


 

Tsuzura went flying into the wall with a loud, spine-tingling crack that left the audience speechless. Hisoka stood in the center of the ring. He hadn’t moved from that spot since the fight began and he was analyzing his nails. He’d chipped the corner of one and now his entire ensemble was imperfect.

 

A pity, because his costume for Battle Olympia was one of his favorites.

 

A black fitted cropped top with a line of diamonds ringed around the hem, pink bands around his wrists and waist and ankles, and black pants and boots. He wore the highest heel he could for the day; after all, this would be televised across the nation and there was nothing so impressive as his ability to stomp ground in six-inch platforms.

 

“Hisoka wins!” The announcer shrieked. The audience erupted in screams of shock and triumph and anger, a whirling mass of attention. “Hisoka wins his second fight -- ten to nothing!”

 

The referee motioned for Hisoka to head back out of the arena and he did. The back room, the waiting area for competitors, was filled with other winners from previous fights. Xoxo sat in the corner, reading something from a binder with incredible intensity.

 

Hisoka found his phone in one locker and shot a text off to Illumi:

 

15:14 Hisoka: Did you get back alright?

15:14 Illumi: Yes. I am about to leave the suite for your fight.

15:15 Hisoka: Your tickets are at the ticket counter in the lobby.

15:15 Illumi: I know.

15:15 Hisoka: Aren’t you going to wish me luck?

15:16 Illumi: Die for all I care.

 

Hisoka laughed. The other competitors in the room looked over and an obvious sense of unease filled the space. One fighter shivered and leaned over to whisper to his neighbor, “Even his laugh is creepy.”

 


 

The screams were deafening. The audience was so packed that Illumi had no choice but to stand alongside everyone else; there was no way this many people could sit in the seats provided. There were men and women alike, all dressed in shirts and hats emblazoned with Hisoka or Xoxo’s name.

 

Interestingly, the crowd looked evenly split.

 

Foolish, Illumi thought. Hisoka wouldn’t win. Xoxo had every advantage.

 

The two fighters walked out. Xoxo was wearing head to toe purple, a military-grade uniform that accentuated her small waist and round hips. Her hair had been straightened and hung down, untied, around her shoulders. When the referee stepped into the ring, she reached into a pocket, producing a rubber band, and used it to pull her hair back. Slowly.

 

Hisoka pointed at her and said something, but Illumi couldn’t hear. Not with the noise. But Xoxo flinched. And the she replied and Hisoka face split into a wide cattish grin.

 

“The competitors look ready for battle, don’t they?!” The announcer shrieked overhead. “One of the most anticipated fights of the day, we have two of the strongest floor masters in the tower here before us. Who will reign supreme on this day?! Xoxo?”

 

More screams.

 

“Hisoka?”

 

Hysterical screams.

 

The referee stood between the two of them, lifted his arm, and made the signal for the fight to begin.

 

Xoxo took off immediately. She rained a hit down to Hisoka from above, but he simply lifted an arm and blocked it. The shockwave of the impact rattled the stands. But Illumi had been focusing on the point of impact so intensely that he saw the cracking of Hisoka’s ulna, even if he couldn’t hear it over the stadium noise.

 

She broke a bone.

 

Xoxo grinned as she backed off and Hisoka looked at his arm, wide-eyed for only a moment.

 

The referee awarded Xoxo a point.

 

Hisoka reached down and tightened a hand around the point of impact and squeezed, popping the split bone into place. Stupidly high tolerance for pain.

 

A camera swooped in, finally, buzzing on little mechanical wings, and Illumi looked to the flat-screens above the ring.

 

“You have a powerful punch,” Hisoka said.

 

Xoxo continued to grin. “Suppose you won’t test me like that again, huh?”

 

Hisoka rolled his head, cracking a joint, and tension exploded out of the stands in another rain of shrieking. “Absolutely not. Would you like to see a trick?”

 

Xoxo took an immediate step back. “No.” Illumi remembered what he had written about Hisoka’s tricks: they’ll be full of awe-inspiring gore. Don’t indulge him.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I’d rather you fight me, you fucking pervert clown,” Xoxo hissed. The audience ate that up, jumping up and down -- even Illumi smirked, a little.

 

“So cold,” Hisoka said. “As you wish.” He pulled his hand back and at the same moment, Xoxo slipped off her feet and went flying through the air. She collided with his fist with a loud crack and another impact that sent ripples in the air, cutting through the stands.

 

“What?!” The announcer shouted, “Hisoka landed a blow but didn’t even move -- Xoxo gave him the perfect opening somehow!”

 

He used Bungee Gum, Illumi thought. Thankfully Xoxo knew how to handle it, now.

 

She landed a few feet from Hisoka and turned to look up at him, blood trickling from her lip. She smirked and her aura pulsed out, hard, and Hisoka’s hatsu was forced off her form just like that.

 

Hisoka blinked. “How interesting.”

 

“Not really,” Xoxo said. She launched another attack. They exchanged blows quickly, with the kind of speed an average person wouldn’t be able to follow. When Xoxo went flying from another punch a moment later, the ref awarded Hisoka three points.

 

They stood opposite one another for a moment.

 

“Who’s your master?” Hisoka asked.

 

Xoxo narrowed her eyes. “His name is Waka.”

 

“I don’t know him,” Hisoka said.

 

“Of course not,” Xoxo said. “Why would you?”

 

“Because whoever taught you how to fight me knows who I am, personally.”

 

Xoxo’s widened eyes gave her away.

 

Ah, shit, Illumi thought.

 

And then Hisoka’s stare pinned to him in the audience instantly, without even having to search the crowd. Illumi stood unmoving and met his yellow eyes with no small amount of glee. He kept his face trained still, but his insides were dancing and on fire.

 

“I see.”

 

“Who is Hisoka looking at?!” The announcer screamed. “Is something happening that we don’t understand?! Is there a history here with Xoxo and Hisoka? Do they share an ally?! Is there something deeper to this fight?! We just don’t know!”

 

Illumi’s heart began to pound in his chest. He felt overheated and -- excited.

 

He let himself grin.

 

Hisoka’s jaw grit so tightly that the muscle ticked in his face and finally he snapped his attention back to Xoxo. She took a step back, steeled herself, and launched forward again. They began fighting, earnestly. A punch enhanced by nen sent Hisoka flying from the ring eventually and he landed with a destructive crash against one of the walls beneath the audience. Dust rained down on him as the concrete crumbled, but he stood back up and dusted off his pants like he was more concerned with looking dirty on screen than anything else.

 

The ref made several calls. Critical hit to Hisoka, three hits and a down to Xoxo. That put Xoxo one point ahead at seven-six.

 

Exactly as predicted.

 

“Watch out,” Hisoka said as he approached the ring, pointing behind Xoxo.

 

“Eh?” Xoxo said, glancing over her shoulder. Hisoka was behind her, suddenly, having leapt over the entire ring. He landed a punch across her temple and she went skidding across the floor.

 

Illumi’s notes had remarked on Hisoka’s speed. He’s fastest running in flats, but if he planned to jump, heels won’t set him back any. Xoxo had obviously only focused on the fastest in flats part when she saw his monster boots and assumed speed wouldn’t be an issue.

 

Foolish.

 

“Down to Hisoka!” The ref shouted. Three points.

 

He only needed one more point to win. Illumi’s eyes widened.

 

“I’m tempted to kill you, now,” Hisoka said. “I want to. I think about it sometimes at night, alone.”

 

Xoxo struggled to her feet, breathing heavily, eye already swollen shut. She glared at Hisoka as he walked very slowly, deliberately across the ring.

 

“You tried so hard, didn’t you?”

 

She panted, “What are you talking about?”

 

“You thought -- studying your mark like you did -- that it’d be the same as executing any job. Not much has changed since we first met, has it?”

 

Xoxo realized, belatedly, that Hisoka wasn’t even talking to her. She swallowed.

 

“Will you have any regrets if I kill her?” Hisoka looked back into the audience, directly at Illumi. The crowd shifted to follow his gaze.

 

Hisoka was going to win.

 

The reality became a crystal image in Illumi’s mind. And he was done. Job closed; mission failed.

 

He broke eye contact with Hisoka and turned on his heel to leave. His hair fanned out behind him as he walked away. He heard the crack of another punch as he left the stadium, but he didn’t know who was beneath the fist.

 

The crowd screamed.

 


 

Illumi heard the ding of the elevator, heard the click-clack of Hisoka’s shoes, heard the whizzing of the first card he sent his way. Illumi snatched it from the air and looked up from the newspaper he had in hand -- listings for flats in Yorkshin.

 

Up until Hisoka attacked him, Illumi assumed he’d move alone. After all, he had failed the mission. When he looked up to see pure fire in Hisoka’s eyes, he thought maybe he’d been playing this from the wrong angle all along.

 

Two more cards. Illumi caught the first and knocked the second off path. It skittered in air and landed with a thud into the coffee table of the den, embedding itself into the wood with incredible force.

 

“You are mad,” Illumi said.

 

“You ruined my fun,” Hisoka replied, voice light and at ease, completely at odds with the rolling waves of dark aura he sent Illumi’s way. “Did you want me dead? Did you want to see me crushed? Ruined by someone I wanted to break?” He stalked forward, muscles tightening, grin widening. He whipped another card. It met its mark in Illumi’s shoulder, above his collarbone, sliced in deep. The sheer force of it made him take a step back, but Illumi immediately righted himself and took a step forward.

 

They were nose to nose. Hisoka lifted a hand, wrapped it around Illumi’s hair, and balled a fist so tight that his bones creaked under its own pressure.

 

“You wanted me dead.”

 

“No,” Illumi said, and when the word left his mouth, he felt everything within him snap perfectly in half. Like a twig beneath Hisoka’s boot. “No,” he hissed, louder. His hands struck out simultaneously, both wrapping around Hisoka’s neck. He didn’t recognize his voice as he said, “When I want you dead, Hisoka --” his aura exploded from him, raw and uncontained, “-- I’ll kill you myself.”

 

Hisoka exhaled, the sound a whisper of a moan, and then they were kissing. The force of their bodies colliding sent a pulse out into the room and the furniture rattled backwards. Hisoka pushed forward, hands clawing through Illumi’s hair, until they landed against one wall.

 

Ping-pong. “Master Hisoka, you have visitors --”

 

Illumi threw Hisoka back, grabbed the lapels of his costume, and slammed him back down against the television mounted to the wall -- and it shattered in an explosion of particles. Spiderwebs of cracks climbed up the wall as he forced their mouths back together and he pressed the full length of himself against Hisoka.

 

“I’ll dismiss them,” the clerk said, voice shaking.

 

Hisoka’s hands gripped him by the ass, pulling their bodies flush, and he pressed their tongues together while they kissed open-mouth, panting. Illumi grabbed Hisoka by the wrists and slammed his hands against the wall, off of his body, and Hisoka moaned, loudly. Illumi could feel the broken bone beneath one hand.

 

“Did it hurt?” He asked, wetly, still pressing his mouth to Hisoka’s. He squeezed the bruised flesh and felt Hisoka’s cock lengthen against his thigh.

 

“It did,” Hisoka said, and he turned his head to mouth down Illumi’s neck. Illumi let his hands go, hands caging in either side of Hisoka’s head, and he tilted his head back as Hisoka kissed his pulse and nipped his throat. “You did that to me,” Hisoka said and Illumi made an involuntary sound that he wasn’t sure he’d made before, ever, and he felt the tip of his cock grow wet with arousal.

 

Hisoka got to the card embedded in Illumi’s shoulder. He pulled it free and sent it flying in another direction -- it slammed into a lamp, shattering it to dust, but neither noticed. Hisoka’s tongue dove into the wound and Illumi gasped as he licked it, first with the flat of his tongue, but then inside, and he cried out at the rush of arousal that made him roll his hips insistently against Hisoka.

 

Illumi grabbed Hisoka by his shirt, again, forcing him to stand straight, and he tore it down the middle, the rip echoing through the room. Hisoka replied by shoving him backwards, so they were off the wall, until they collided onto the coffee table. He slammed Illumi back until he laid out across it. He made fast work of Illumi’s silk top, too, pulling it away in ribbons by force.

 

His mouth was smeared with blood but Illumi pulled him down for another panting, moaning, open-mouthed kiss anyway, fingers tightening in his hair. Hisoka fished a hand down Illumi’s pants and grabbed the length of his dick, squeezing. Illumi immediately thrust up into the fist and groaned, tossing his head to the side, a familiar tightening twisting his gut.

 

Hisoka smiled against Illumi’s neck and held his hand still, fingers still tight around his erection. Illumi gasped and bucked his hips up, moving against the grip.

 

He turned questioning eyes to Hisoka, brushing noses as they looked at one another. Illumi was struck by how amber Hisoka’s eyes were this close, in the dim light of the den.

 

“This is how you want it, isn’t it? You want to use me? So use me.”

 

Illumi sighed, doing a full body shudder, and nodded wordlessly. He thrust up into Hisoka’s fist and kept his stare rapt on Hisoka’s half-lidded eyes. Their breath mingled and Illumi brought his legs up, around Hisoka’s middle, to create better leverage, and then he fucked himself into his hand in fast, hard pulses. His breath came faster.

 

“Are you going to come?” Hisoka asked, voice smiling as much as his lips.

 

Illumi nodded but didn’t answer, every thrust accentuated with a gasp now. Hisoka’s fist was so warm and his body was solid and Illumi was using him -- fucking him --

 

“Ah --” Illumi choked out, eyes fluttering.

 

“Look at me,” Hisoka said, and Illumi was coming, eyes open, vision blurred and spotty as he came.

 

He didn’t even realize he was talking at first until he gathered his bearings and heard, “Hisoka -- Hisoka -- Haa -- Hisoka --”

 

They hadn’t even managed to get their pants off yet, though Illumi’s were hiked down around his knees. He’d chosen an appropriate day to forgo underwear. He wasn’t even sure Hisoka had noticed until he said:

 

“Were you prepared for this? Is this what you wanted?”

 

Illumi didn’t answer, but leaned up to kiss Hisoka again. Hisoka dodged the kiss and bit down on his bottom lip instead. The cut Illumi had there from his last mission burst open and copper filled their mouths while Hisoka’s come-covered hand found Illumi’s entrance and slid against it.

 

Illumi twitched.

 

“No?” Hisoka said, pulling his hand back.

 

Illumi’s voice turned into an authoritative growl that he hadn’t had to use since his brothers were infants: “Yes, Hisoka. Fuck me.” He grabbed Hisoka’s neck with one hand, shoved him off, and brought him back down to the floor, hard. The wood cracked beneath the force, splintering out from Hisoka’s back in every direction. Hisoka didn’t miss a beat, sliding his hand beneath Illumi and to his entrance again. Illumi pushed his pants down, until he freed one foot. A finger pushed inside and Illumi’s head dropped, task abandoned, hair cascading down his face and onto Hisoka. It framed them, blocking out the light of the room, and their eyes met again.

 

Hisoka worked a finger in and out with Illumi seated on top of him. “Did you think about this at all?”

 

Illumi’s hand tightened on Hisoka’s throat, wanting to crush his windpipe, to make him shut up, to force him to fucking do it -- he nodded.

 

“Tell me,” Hisoka said, voice dropping into a deep purr Illumi hadn’t heard before now.

 

“One day,” Illumi said, his voice a thick slur, “I’ll dislocate your arms, so you can’t move, and I’ll use you --” Hisoka added another finger and scissored them, slicking Illumi’s ass with his own cum. “I’ll use your tongue --”

 

Hisoka’s tongue snaked out, licking his top lip as Illumi spoke.

 

“Fuck,” Illumi panted, Hisoka’s fingers thrusting in and out faster.

 

“Enough?”

 

Illumi pushed himself back, hands flat on Hisoka’s chest, as he pulled his fingers out. Hisoka sat up and Illumi pressed his lower body down, against the erection still clothed in Hisoka’s pants. Hisoka's moan even sounded like it had a smile. He pulled out his cock, pants pushed down just enough, and Illumi, impatiently, pushed down on it.

 

Hisoka sighed, sliding his hands up Illumi’s back and into his hair as he pressed inside. Illumi’s thighs trembled as he spread his legs, forcing himself onto his dick. He ignored the burning stretch -- or rather, it mingled with the dozens of other sensations that assaulted him from all sides.

 

For as fast as they had gone until now, with the frantic kissing, the spilled blood, the desperate clawing on each other’s bodies -- suddenly the world moved so slow. Illumi was panting, again, stomach tight, eyes closed, as his ass met Hisoka’s hips.

 

He felt a kiss on the tip of his nose.

 

Slowly, his eyes opened, and Hisoka was there. Hisoka rolled his hips forward and Illumi shuddered, again, dick jumping from half-erect to full in just that one moment. Hisoka did it again and Illumi gasped, arms tightening around where they were hugging his shoulders. Illumi thought, belatedly, that they shouldn’t be doing this in such an intimate position. Perhaps a counterintuitive thought.

 

But he could be face down and later deny that it had any effect on him, that fucking Hisoka had been just simple, uncomplicated, because no one would know. But this way, with his eyelashes brushing Hisoka’s face, his hair sticking in slick sweat against them both, his breath cutting out of his chest in pulsing gasps -- he couldn’t really hide anything.

 

Certainly not the fact that he’d never fucked anyone like this before.

 

“I thought about this the first time we met,” Hisoka mumbled, voice low.

 

Illumi’s fingers gripped his back. “We were children.”

 

“I didn’t care.”

 

Illumi rolled back as Hisoka rolled up, pace building. He didn’t say anything, but he looked at Hisoka’s mouth again for a moment and suddenly they were kissing again. Their tongues slid against one another and Hisoka bit Illumi’s bloodied lip and the sting of it made him jump and he tightened his ass involuntarily -- Hisoka groaned, audibly, and thrust up once, hard.

 

Illumi tossed his head and jerked down, to make Hisoka do that again. He did, hard enough to pull a sound from Illumi this time.

 

That seemed to be his new goal, because his hands chased down Illumi’s back from his hair to his ass and he gripped hard, bouncing him down. Illumi cried out and precum slid down the back of his cock, forced out in pulses with each thrust. “Ah -- ah --”

 

Hisoka pushed him down, back against the floor, and Illumi lifted his legs on pure instinct, until Hisoka’s hands found purchase beneath his knees. He pulled Illumi’s legs apart and pushed in, harder -- deeper -- and Illumi screamed again, the sound forced out of him, out of his control --

 

“Hisoka --” Both hands grabbed down his own body to his cock and he gripped it.

 

“Will you come again?” Hisoka asked, but he sounded unlike himself -- his voice wasn’t playful, at all -- it was deep. Warm.

 

“Ha -- h --” Illumi’s hands tightened around himself, and he looked through his messed hair at Hisoka over him. He managed to nod.

 

“Good,” Hisoka growled, fucking him faster. He shifted Illumi’s knees in hand, spreading him wide, folding him in half, and he found Illumi’s prostate with practiced knowledge. Illumi hadn’t expected it and screamed, again. Hisoka worked it with short, hard, rolling thrusts, pressing Illumi into the floor.

 

Illumi saw white. “I’ll come,” he slurred. “Hisoka… Hisoka --” but Hisoka was persistent. The orgasm rolled through Illumi unlike anything he’d experienced before in sex, a wave that pulsed out of him like nen, and he was coming hard. He came in spurts with every thrust, for longer than he knew he could come --

 

He was frantically gasping as he came back around, eyes slowly drawing focus -- Illumi realized what it must mean to have a religious experience, because he felt out of body, like he had been in another plane entirely. He decided, immediately, that he could never say such a thing to Hisoka.

 

“Can I come inside of you?” Hisoka asked. For such an intimate question, he seemed -- uncharacteristically -- unteasing. Illumi, breathless, not trusting to talk, nodded. He reached up, limbs feeling distant and foreign, and pulled Hisoka down into another kiss as he came.

 


 

They had really fucked up the den.

 

There were claw marks where Hisoka had gripped the floor, and there was a giant shattered piece of wood in the middle of the room from where Illumi had slammed him down. There were gigantic chunks missing from two walls and the flat screen television had been shattered and sat in pieces on the floor. The coffee table had a broken leg -- Illumi hadn’t even noticed that happening -- and a lamp had broken and fallen, taking down an orchid as it went, sending dirt across the entirety of the room.

 

Illumi and Hisoka sat naked on the couch, wrapped in blankets.

 

“I wanted to move to Yorkshin,” Illumi said, finally, after nearly an hour of silent reflection.

 

Hisoka looked up, eyes blinking open. He had been dozing. “I see.”

 

“I am going next week.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Hisoka said, easily.

 

A chill ran down Illumi’s spine. “Really?”

 

“Mmhmm.” Hisoka settled back against the couch, and a hand reached out to cord through Illumi’s hair. “Can I see what you did to train Xoxo?”

 

“Mm, yeah. Where is my phone?”

 

Hisoka pointed to it, where it had gone flying out of Illumi’s pocket at some point, on the floor between the den and kitchen. Hisoka jerked his finger back and the phone sprang through the air. Illumi caught it. He flicked through his files until he found a copy of his manifesto on fighting Hisoka. He handed the device to him.

 

“This is on your work phone,” Hisoka pointed out.

 

“I considered it a mission to defeat you.”

 

“How sweet,” Hisoka said, settling in to read.

 

A few minutes later, he reached the list of weaknesses and began to laugh. Illumi leaned over. He placed his cheek against Hisoka’s bare shoulder, and squinted down at the device.

 

“Let me show you something,” Hisoka said, shifting, and he produced his own phone. He clicked around it for a minute and held it up for Illumi to read.

 

Illumi’s Weaknesses

 

  1. Sugar*

  2. Killua

 

*He is like a stray cat. The more you feed him the things he loves, the more he will spend time around you, oblivious to your intentions.

 

Illumi narrowed his eyes. “When did you write this?”

 

“A long time ago. Before the Hunter’s Exam,” Hisoka said. “If we were going to be working together, I wanted to have a plan in place.” He smiled.

 

“Delete it,” Illumi said.

 

“No,” Hisoka replied.

 

Illumi made a grab for the phone, but Hisoka evaded him easily. “I will kill you,” Illumi said.

 

Hisoka simply said, “I will let you," and leaned in for a kiss.