Posted: Thu Dec 27, 2007 6:08 am Post subject: One Night (NC-17!!!!WARNING!!GRAPHIC!!NOTSAFE!!NOTSAFE!!)
An idea Kaze givved me <3
and yes, I was looking at the book as I wrote this
so I don't own the idea at all
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Staring out the window, he waited. He knew what was coming, he knew what would happen. He heard the shower turn off and closed his eyes, continuing to face the window, the curtain wrapping around himself. He shivered slightly, the thoughts racing through his mind and making him want to run. But he couldn't. He had to stay to make sure any of this worked. Footsteps behind him alerted him to Tsuzuki's exiting the bathroom. He turned.
"Ah, Tsuzuki," he offered a smile, forcing his trembling to stop and offering a smile, "Look!" he sounded excited, "a sea fire. Rare for this time of year. Sea fires represent the souls of those who died at sea. Pretty, huh?" He wondered if Hijiri would sense the danger in he air as he did. He didn't show concern though.
"Hijiri," came Tsuzuki's near whispered voice to his ears, "can I have my reward now?" The fact that the name being used wasn't his own did nothing to calm him. He closed his eyes for a moment before beginning to turn, surprised as Tsuzuki's hand hastened his turn and pressed him back against the window.
"Huh?" His eyes widened against his will as he stared at the tall brunet only inches from himself, those amethyst eyes burning with something he'd never seen before. The hot body against his own made him squirm unconsciously.
"My reward for saving you," he got even closer, hands on the slim hips of the boy against the window. There was a gasp in response.
"Oh..." he gulped, still trying to act as though he suspected nothing, though he had the feeling that Hijiri wouldn't have done anything anyway if Tsuzuki had acted this way toward him. "Sure, anything, I..." he stopped with another gulp, unable to continue for a moment. Tsuzuki's eyes glowed with anticipation.
"Anything?" he repeated, "okay then..." The smaller male turned away, as though too nervous to stay, but Tsuzuki clung to him, one hand running up his chest, the other gliding down his leg and between his thighs. "Let's start here..... Hijiri..." He turned around quickly, again trying to pull awayl, but was pressed back against the window.
"Hey, hold up!" he cried, only minutely remembering to act like Hijiri, "quit it, Tsuzuki!!" He strugled beneath the older man's attentions.
"You said anything, didn't you?" There was some amusement to Tsuzuki's voice. Again the boy struggled.
"I'm a guy!!" He tried to press his hands against the strong chest on his own, to part them. But Tsuzuki was using force he'd never thought that the shinigami had.
"Your body," he rasped in a voice that was his own, but a tone he'd never before used.
"No!" he cried, the moments becoming too like his night with a certain white doctor, "stop!!"
"Your life," came the growl, hands on his skin as his shirt had been halfway peeled off. "Give them to me!!!" Without warning, searing pain filled him, and he watched in shock as Tsuzuki brought down something he couldn't see very clearly. Thinking back later, he'd note that it was a gardening tool. But right now, it felt as though there would be no later as it was lifted and brought down again, into the same shoulder, splitting him down to the waist. Blood ran from his eyes with his tears of pain, mouth open in a near silent plea for help... any help. It didn't matter what kind. But there was none.
Finally, the blade hit the floor and he sat there, staring up at Tsuzuki, who, during his work in hacking off his limb, had grown impossibly large, dark wings. They were beautiful and hideous all at once, dazzling and fearsome. Had this creature not been the cause of his pain, he miht be in awe.
"You look pretty, Hijiri," he barely heard the words, "the blood and blade look lovely next to your pale white skin. He lifted a bejeweled daggar and drove it into his left eye. "The moon is full," he said as he twisted, the eye moving with the daggar before it was jarred free. "Hijiri Minase, our contract is executed." He dropped the daggar and eye to the floor and stood, looking over his handywork for a moment. The blood had dripped over the window, the light shining through the flecks and turning its rays crimson. Then he smirked wider and walked away, slamming the door behind him. He lay there against the window, torn and tattered, unbroken, yet seconds from it.
"Oh god.... Hisoka...." came a whispered voice. His head tried to move, but didn't do well. Off to the side, he could barely register the real Hijiri standing with his hands over his mouth, terrified at what he was looking at. He tried to tell the violinist that he was supposed to be hiding, but the only thing that got past his lips was a cough and dripping blood. The boy rushed to his side, but didn't touch him. "Oh god... what do I do?" Hisoka focused himself on healing, closing his eye as he felt the other one beginning to grow back in, the sinews of muscles snapping back together, bones and organs fighting back to their rightful places. But it was slow going and would take a while for him to be all better. Hijiri touched the side of his face. "Is there.... anything I can do?" he asked, heart beating with his terror, but too concerned with Hisoka to run away, which was just what he wanted to do. The empath's head barely lifted.
"C-calm...." blood was still splurting even now, "I'll.... be fine..." Hijiri almost made a face at this, but figured getting in a fight with Hisoka at a time like this was out of the question. He took a deep breath, nearly gagging at the scent of the blood all around himself. He watched and waited. When Hisoka could talk again, he asked Hijiri to help him with his shoulder, which needed to go back into place or it would heal improperly. They pressed it to its original and proper positioning, waiting for the healing powers to set in and quite literally pull him together again.
It took a little over an hour for the empath to heal enough to stand, and even then he leaned against the window. Hijiri's green eyes shone with worry as he tried to help the blond. "Please," he said, "don't move too fast. You should rest for a bit." Hisoka shook his already spinning head.
"I can't," he said, "I have to warn the others....." but he slumped more against the window, shredded clothes gathering the blood. Hijiri reached to him again.
"Please," he said, "let me help you... you won't make it there like this... and... you have plenty of time, don't you? As a demon, you said that he could take a full twelve hours before getting into meifu, even with Tsuzuki's body. You can afford to rest even a little, right?" Hisoka shook his head.
"We need to find a way to protect the bureau, where Kazusa is... and where you should be." Hijiri frowned.
"How do you expect me to leave you when that was going to happen?" he asked. Hisoka gave him a look.
"You didn't know what was going to happen," he said, "you're no empath." Hijiri grimaced, his eyes looking ready to spill tears.
"I may not be an empath, but I can tell things too!" he said, "I may not seem all that smart at first glance, and yeah I'm kinda ditzy too, but I can tell when there's something wrong! Please, Hisoka! I couldn't do anything for Tsuzuki, and it's my fault he's like this now. And it's my fault you had to get hacked up... but please at least let me try to repay you!" His vice was begging and a tear slipped down each cheek. Hisoka looked away. "Don't cry, Hijiri, letting out a breath of frustration, "If you want to blame someone, blame Sagatanasu." Hisoka tried to stand and nearly fell to the floor, but Hisoka grabbed him, holding him up carefully.
"Please, Hisoka," he begged one more time. Hisoka sighed again.
"Fine," he said, sounding tired. Hijiri broght the boy over to the bed at the side, sitting him down.
"You're covered in blood," he said, "and your clothes are stained...." he made a face, but then it went away. "We're the same size... and I brought an extra school uniform if you'd like to borrow it." Hisoka slowly nodded, ready to agree to near anything if it just meant Hijiri wold stop fussing over him. Hijiri nodded and pulled at the soft shirt, the buttons having long since been torn. Hisoka grabbed at his hand.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, eyes suddenly wide. Hijiri stared into them.
"I was going to clean you," he said, "if you stay covered in blood, you'll start to smell and then you'll get all sticky." He was still holding the clothes, refusing to let go.
"I can clean myself!" Hisoka growled, tugging his shirt back.
"You can barely stand on your own, Hisoka," he said, "don't be unreasonable!" He tugged back.
"You're the one being unreasonable!" he raised his voice, "why do you want to clean me so bad anyway?" This was uncalled for. His tone had suggested Hijiri was being perverted, but there was, as far as Hisoka could tell, only worry in the violinist's mind. Hijiri pulled away, looking at the door.
"Were you anyone else, you would have died," he said, "I know you're not the type to want help, one of the really tough ones who can do everything on your own, but please... humor me... I'm so scared... and I just want to do something to help..." Hisoka looked away. That was hardly true. He couldn't believe Hijiri thought that way about him. His shirt was pulled more and he clung to it.
"Don't..." he said, "don't look..." He didn't have his scars... but he didn't want to show himself. Reveal that he was really weaker than he let on. So powerless that it made him sick. Hijiri's eyes raised to his.
"Hisoka?" he said, startled at the empath's weak tone.
"Please..." he said, "I don't... want you to see..." He was looking at the wall, away from Hijiri. The violinist touched his shoulder.
"It's okay," he said, "it's dark. I won't see anything. I won't look... please let me help you..." He pulled on the shirt a bit more, finding less resistance now. He pulled it off, grabbing a clean bit of it and beginning to wipe away the blood. Hisoka's shoulders pricked with gooseflesh and he continued to look away, his cherryblossom blush tinging his cheeks and beginning its way down his pale flesh. He was so glad it was dark.
Hijiri's finers were gentle and caring and soon he was unbuttoning the pants too. "It's okay," he said as he felt Hisoka's body tense. "It's dark. I can barely see your shape over here out of the moonlight." He tugged the cloth slowly, his bottom half uninjured, but still bloody from the splatters and amount. He carefully rubbed away the blood on Hisoka's hips and thighs, the boy's face still red, eyes squeezed shut. Hijiri's hands could never be mistaken for Muraki's. He was much to calm, slow, and gentle. So why did Hisoka's mind keep forcing itself back to that memory? He swallowed, feeling Hijiri pause.
"Hisoka?" he said softly. He opened his eyes to look at the other boy.
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Are you okay?" He bit his lip, "I mean... you're really tense..." Hisoka shook his head.
"Thinking," he said, looking away again.
"Mind if I ask what about?" Hijiri began cleaning again. Hisoka's eyes were open now, staring at the ceiling as he realized it was easier to deal with when he could see that Muraki wasn't there.
"Just.... things...." he said. He would never tell Hijiri what had happened to him. He'd never even told Tsuzuki. Hijiri frowned, but stayed silent.
"I... can't get all the blood off," he said, "I'll... be right back..." he stood and went to the bathroom, grabbing a bucket from beside the sink and filling it in the tub with warm water. Then he grabbed a cloth from the closet. Hisoka lay there on the bed, too tired to move, but wishing there was something between himself and the rest of the room. He'd never done this before. Just... lay there with skin bare and nothing to keep out the outside world. There was nobody else there of course... except for Hijiri, but while it was odd at first, it was almost comforting in a way. When Hijiri came back and some water dripped onto his lower torso, he ground his teeth to keep from moving. The water was warm and he had to admit that it felt nice against his skin. Hijiri washed away the blood on him, tracing small circles on the pale flesh beneath his hands. After a few moments, he sat up, Hijiri's hands were making their way closer to something he didn't want anyone near. He stared at the boy, looking him directly in the eye for a moment. How was it he hadn't felt it before? Hijiri was most certainly lusting for him. It wasn't an overpowering feeling, but it was as thouh he was tryin to hide it. And he was doing pretty well covering it with his concern.
As Hijiri realized that Hisoka had figured him out, his face turned red and he looked away. "I-I'm sorry," he said, "I don't mean to.... how could you tell?" Hisoka frowned. He hadn't yet told Hijiri about his empathy. Why would it be important?
"It's not that hard," he made a face and acted cool, though his stomach was squirming within. Hijiri's face turned redder.
"I'm sorry," he said again, looking away, dropping the cloth into the bucket and whiping his hands dry on his pantlegs. They grew cold away from the water. Hisoka was silent for a moment as well. Why was he thinking what it was. Hijiri was definitely sorry about it, and hadn't meant it, but why was he so angry? He was angry at himself for letting Hijiri wash him. He wasn't an invalid. Sure, he'd been injured, but he was already almost fully healed. He was also angry for Hijiri wanting to do it so badly, then becoming aroused by it. He had to have looked at Hisoka's body to see where the blood was, right? He stared at Hijiri for a moment before a small dizzy spell from his blood loss made him waver. He shifted slightly, but he was unable to steady himself and fell against Hijiri, who wrapped his arm around the empath's shoulder carefully. Then, with only a second's thought of warning, Hijiri had kissed the blond lightly and with warm, soft lips. Hisoka wasn't able to pull away, still dizzy. His hand lifted and pressed to Hijiri's shoulder, but not roughly. What was going on? Why was he starting to feel so relaxed? Had his bloodloss made him completely mental? Of course, Hijiri wasn't pulling away either. He was melting against Hisoka contentedly, his mind stopping in all thought. It was an odd feeling. Hisoka squirmed, unintentionally deepening the kiss. Hijiri's sigh was warm as he moved closer to the nude empath.
"W-wait..." Hisoka pulled away, taking a deep breath. His body was beginning to respond, he most certainly wasn't used to it. His skin was softly blushing, his blood making its way between his thighs. Hijiri's eyes were wide and his breath was short. In his head he was cursing his teenage hormones in a way that would have made Hisoka laugh were said hormones not directed at him. He covered himself as best he could with his hands, but with it long and tall like that, it was difficult to pull off. Hijiri had spotted it and blushed himself.
"I'm... sorry," he said, "should I... leave?" Hisoka shook his head.
"It's not... I mean..." now he was cursing hormones. He may have been a shinigami, but he still had them. This was against the rules! What was he doing!? Hijiri was a mortal!! His heart was fluttering oddly. He wished it would go away. Hijiri was still very close, and he front of his slacks had a lump, though he seemed to be better at controlling it than Hisoka was. Hijiri then did something unexpected. He knelt by the side of the bed and lapped at the soft flesh between Hisoka's thighs, the empath gasping as the fuzzyness in his mind grew. "Wai---" His hands clutched the sheets, eyes half mast. Hijiri's head lifted.
"I started it," he said, "now I'm going to finish it." And he took the length into his mouth, sucking slightly, Hisoka's hands diving into his dark hair as he gasped again, biting back a moan threatening to break free. Hijiri's tongue was agile, seeming experienced in what he was doing. Quite sure of how to call out Hisoka's need. He pulled in more every few moments, his hands on the boy's hips, as caring and gentle as every, an odd contrast to his increasingly strong sucking and ever lapping tongue. For a few moments, he pulled out, licking at the tip before giving a soft lipped kiss. Hisoka's breath caught in his chest. This was quite different from what he'd imagined before. Fear. Pain. Someone having to convince him. But Hijiri was so gentle that he certainly didn't need convincing.
"Hi--ji---" he murmured as the feeling grew more intense, he leaned forward, trying to keep his hips still. They were threatening to buck at the brunet's attentions. He quivered, his body feeling ready to explode as his insides twisted and writhed, muscles tense, fingers pulling at the silken strands on Hijiri's head. How could the violinist breath while doing that? Were he not himself, he would have thought it was magic, but he could tell that Hijiri had done this before. His fingers tightened. "Hij-- ri..." he breathed, "I'm... I'm..." Hijiri processed without hearing, feeling the telltale tremor through the pale body and relaxing his throat to take in all that Hisoka had to give. The shinigami released with a cry, pressing his face into Hijiri's hair as his toes curled and his knees shook, lungs fighting to send oxygen to his much deprived brain. He gulped as he watched Hijiri garefully pull away, wiping his lip with his sleeve. He was breathin hard too.
"I should... change..." he murmured, blushing as he looked away. Apparently, he'd messed his pants in the process of assisting his near twin. Hisoka nodded, his own face flushed with color. He didn't really mind that Hijiri was wearing his clothes. He had plenty more in his apartment. The violinist left the room and came back wearing a school uniform. He had a second uniform under his arm. "Sorry," he said, "but these are all I have." Hisoka quickly pulled the clothes on.
"That's okay," he said, "it'll come in handy if we need to throw off Sagatanasu again." He looked at Hijiri closely. The boy was embarassed. Hisoka offered a rare smile. "Thanks," he said. Hijiri smiled back, sweetly as ever.
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"No!" Cried the voice of Konoe, who sat opposite Hisoka at the ministry the next day, "Are you sure?" Hisoka nodded gravely.
"Unfortunatly," he said. Konoe looked about ready to go into cardiac arrest.
"What the hell!?" he demanded, "if the big guy finds out--!" He was interupted by Watari.
"But I--- I checked him for marks," he argued. Hisoka didn't have to think about this.
"It must've invaded his nerves," he said, dead seriousness in his eyes, "there's no doubt... Tsuzuki's posessed...."
*giggles to death* lol it was great! *snuggles* i love you and i hope you're flight isn't delayed.
lol, as you know, it was, but it aaaaallll worked out ^^
laustic wrote:
Oooh, another Hijiri x Hisoka fic I loved it to itty bitty pieces!
whee!! XDDD Thank you. Itty bitty pieces.... poor boys... they've been squuished to death so many times..... XDDDDD now if only they'd hug back... I'd SO love to die being huggled to death by Hiji and Soka <3<3<3 and Muraki and Tsuzuki and Watari and Tatsumi..... XDDDD
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I loved it to itty bitty pieces!