Co-Authored with Ashlea

     There was a night when Tsuzuki was still in the hospital, hazed and recovering from Kyoto, when Hisoka had not been able to sleep. He'd gone to Tsuzuki's room, and sat for a long while on a chair at his bedside, watching his chest rise and fall with breath in the waning moonlight. And then it wasn't enough.

     He'd crawled into the hospital bed beside him, making himself small and quiet. Tsuzuki didn't wake up; his breathing barely even changed. Hisoka stayed that way the whole night, only makingcontact with the tips of his fi ngers on the back of Tsuzuki's palm. He dozed peacefully, feelingsafe and almost whole.

     When Tsuzuki had woken in the morning, Hisoka was gone, but he commented to Watari that he must be starting to feel better, because he'd had a good dream.

     And then Tsuzuki could leave the hospital, and go home, and Hisoka found some sort of excuse tocome with him and stay to talk until the hour was very late.

     And now, it feels like he's at Tsuzuki's bedside again, in the moonlight, and if he leaves evennow, after all these hours of calm and warmth, it just won't be enough.

     If Tsuzuki finds Hisoka's dawdling so late peculiar, he hasn't said anything about it, nor have either of them commented on the late hour, although it's fast approaching the time when it will become impossible to ignore. So far, instead, they've managed to talk about absolutely nothing all evening, relaxing on sofas in Tsuzuki's living room. But -- and maybe it's just Hisoka's imagination, and he wouldn't be surprised -- it seems like there's a strange kind of tension th at's been growing in the air over the last half hour or so, not really unpleasant, but just there, crackling at the edges of consciousness. There's something about the way they keep looking at each other: never quite in the eye, but a little below or a l ittle off to the side. He hopes he isn't just imagining it.

     And then Tsuzuki interrupts himself, in the middle of whatever he'd been babbling on about, with a yawn, followed by a stretch, followed by a glance at the clock, followed by a yelp. "Oh! When did it get so late?" And H isoka looks quickly at his hands, taking a deep breath. Now or never, then --

     "Can I -- " he says, at exactly the same time Tsuzuki says,"You'd better--"

     They both stop, and look at each other.

     "What were you going to say, Hisoka?"

     "No... you first."

     Tsuzuki looks sheepish, but concerned, as well. "Ah. I-it's far too late for you to go home now. You shouldn't walk so far at this time of night by yourself." He brightens a little. "You can stay here tonight!"

     For a minute, Hisoka can't do anything but stare at him... and then he actually has to bite the tip of his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Trust Tsuzuki...

     "Well..." He looks down again, at the backs of his hands. "If you wouldn't mind... could I?"

     He can feel Tsuzuki's smile -- and the faint edge that might be nervousness behind it -- even before he looks up to meet those odd eyes. "Please. I just want you to be safe." And Hisoka takes a deep breath and nods a lit tle, feeling awkward and strange, but better. Much better.

     "All right. Thank you."

     Another long line of eye contact, strange and shivering and even more full of that undefinable feeling, and then Tsuzuki stands up from the couch, looking around himself as though faintly confused. He's blushing, Hisoka notices. He's blushing?

     "I guess we should head on to sleep, shouldn't we?" Tsuzuki taps his fingers on the back of the sofa as he paces a little. "Back to work in the morning, hm?"

     "I guess so," Hisoka says quietly, looking at where his own hands work at a loose thread in the upholstery. It's not a bad couch to sleep on, he supposes, but....

     When he looks up, Tsuzuki has disappeared into the small bedroom, but the door is still open. After a moment, he pokes his head out of the doorway. "Well... are you coming?"

     Hisoka knows he's turning pink as he nods a little and stands, not remembering to return Tsuzuki's uncertain little smile. Tsuzuki suddenly makes a small noise of distress and turn saway; Hisoka watches him from the doorf rame as the older shinigami struggles to hide the collection of stuffed animals that's scattered across the room.

     Idiot, Hisoka thinks, and as Tsuzuki looks up, eyes shaded by the mess of his hair and smiling bashfully, he feels his lips curve up, just enough.

     Having apparently given up and accepted that the truth is out, Tsuzuki gets up again, and fumbles around the room for a minute before remembering what he was doing. As Hisoka stands in the doorway watching -- a little unc omfortably -- he lays out one futon, and then pulls another out from the closet and lays it beside the first, in a flurry of activity. And for some reason, Hisoka finds himself opening his mouth at the appearance of the second bed, but he closes it again when he realizes that he doesn't know what he was going to say, really. What exactly does he have to protest?

     "I have some pajamas you can borrow," Tsuzuki tells him, already on his way to the dresser. "They'll be a little big, but -- " He produces the pajamas before he can finish the sentence, and holds them out to Hisoka with that same shy smile; then something seems to occur to him, and the smile turns to a blush. "Oh, ah -- I'll ... turn my back? Or... I'll go brush my teeth! Right!" Now thoroughly flustered, he presses the too-big pajamas into Hisoka's hands, then grabs another set out of the same drawer and rushes off at a dangerously high speed, presumably for the bathroom. Hisoka stares after him for a moment, more bemused than anything else -- but blushing a little himself.

     "Idiot," he mutters under his breath, though he might as well be talking to himself as to Tsuzuki. He sets about getting changed; the pajamas are absurdly large, but once he rolls up the cuffs of the sleeves and legs, they're all right. After a minute of looking around the room awkwardly, he sits on the edge of one futon, feeling a little out of place, though the sounds and sensations drifting in from Tsuzuki in the other room help ease him just a little.

     It's not my imagination. He is nervous; I can feel it from here. I wonder...

     But he doesn't wonder for long, because then the bathroom door opens, and Tsuzuki returns, clad in pajamas as well. He lingers for the length of another breath, and then quickly skitters across the room to sit down on the other futon, pulling the covers over his legs. He stares offinto the darkness, still sitting up, for just a moment before taking in a sharp breath as if startled and turning to Hisoka. "Ah... are you comfortable? Do you need anything?"

     It's like he wants something... like he needs... no, don't start thinking like that, you'll just...

     "I'm fine." He lies down to stare at the ceiling and the shadows cast from the high-set windows. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tsuzuki settle down in the bed next to him. He catches the glint of Tsuzuki's eyes and finds his head turning, looking to see him staring upwards, too, eyes open and body tense. Hisoka draws in a breath. "Are... you okay?"

     "I..." Tsuzuki closes his eyes and draws in a long breath, while Hisoka holds his. "Something just doesn't seem right," he murmurs.

     He can't... no, he's going to ask me to leave, to sleep on the couch, he can't mean...

     It feels like he's been holding the breath for hours when he lets it out. "Oh?"

     Tsuzuki turns, then, and meets Hisoka's gaze with his shining eyes. "I just need..."

     Please.

     For a long moment Hisoka doesn't do anything at all, because he can't tell at first whether that plea -- a short, sharp knife of longing -- came from Tsuzuki or from himself. Eventually he remembers to breathe again. It can't be what he wants it to be, he knows it can't be, but the knowledge is steadily beginning to crumble, and he's afraid it's going to make him do something terribly stupid before too long.

     "Tsuzuki...?" he asks, softly, and listens to the thudding of his heart in the long moments while Tsuzuki -- what? Tries to finish his sentence? Regrets having said anything in the first place? Is laughing at him for being so stupid as to think --

     Stop it. You know better than that. He's surprised by the thought; it seems to come out of nowhere, cutting off the circle of suspicion and fear before it can even begin. And he's even more surprised to find that, really, it's true. He does know. This isTsuzuki; when has Tsuzuki ever been anything but good to me? He deserves more credit that that. He deserves...

     Oh, he doesn't like where this train of thought is going, but he does like it, too, and that's the worst part. He can't stop himself, and even through everything that's happened to him in the last few years, he doesn't think he's ever been quite this afraid.

     But neither that nor anything else stops him from taking a deep breath, slipping out from under the blankets, and shifting his weight across the foot or so that brings him to the very edge of Tsuzuki's futon.

     "If you want -- " he starts to say, softly, but by the time it gets out he's already in Tsuzuki's arms, and whatever the question was going to be, it's probably been answered.

     "This is better," Tsuzuki murmurs, breath ruffling Hisoka's hair, and a rush of warm and almost suffocating emotion floods over Hisoka. Tsuzuki always feels so strongly... But he doesn't mind it, not at all; he's so used to Tsuzuki now, and touching him like this, being enveloped in him like this isn't scary or painful like it once was, but rather feels something like home.

     Hisoka knows he should say something, instead of just listening to Tsuzuki's pulse where his cheek presses to his neck, but he can't find much to say. Carefully, shyly, he curves his arm around Tsuzuki to settle his hand between his shoulderblades, and focuses on sorting through the emotions before he gets lost in them. It's warm, and somehow unfamiliar in a way that stings him, and he can still feel the wavering line of nervousness and fear.

     He opens his eyes as he finds his bearings again, but still finds that his heart is beating harder, and his mouth is dry. Normally, he knows this is where he would doubt, but somehow... somehow it seems impossible to doubt Tsuzuki now, like this.

     But it would be stupid to say anything. It would be stupid to speak now, when just like this is perfect enough.

     "...Are you tired, Tsuzuki?" His words seem harsh and loud, and startlingly real. Hisoka closes his eyes and delves back into the calming warmth so he doesn't have to await the answer.

     Tsuzuki shifts, and when he lets out a breath, it's warm against his cheek, close to his lips. "Not really," he murmurs.

     Please, it comes again, and Hisoka knows now it comes from both of them.

     His mouth is already so close to Tsuzuki's; how hard could it be? To just lean forward those last few centimeters and touch them together... what could possibly go wrong? Besides everything, that is.

     "Me neither," he whispers, and his breath must be as warm on Tsuzuki's lips as Tsuzuki's was a moment before. They're so close their foreheads are almost pressed together. It's curious: they've touched like this several times recently, although under very different circumstances, but it's never felt like it does now...

     They say you learn something new every day, and tonight, for Hisoka, it's that there is a specific, identifiable emotion that is wanting someone to kiss you. And on the heels of this revelation, he also realizes that the only reason he recognizes that feeling, when it comes from Tsuzuki, is because it's been at the back of his own mind, more often than not, for a long time now. He doesn't know for how long, but he's fairly certain that doesn't matter right now; he does finally know what he wants, though, and that probably does. And now that he knows all of this, what else could he do but what they both want him to?

     When Hisoka moves, so does Tsuzuki, meeting him halfway to complete the kiss. His lips are warm, smooth, a little sweet -- not surprisingly, really. An intense feeling of relief spills over Hisoka from outside, as if there's a thirst Tsuzuki's carried for a long time that's just now finally being quenched, and Hisoka can't help but shiver, more than a little amazed. For me? Me? I didn't think...

     He can't remember ever having been happier to be wrong.

     It's not his first kiss, but right now, the memory of that long-ago mockery of loving touch is only a faint shadow on his mind. And after a moment, the light that floods from Tsuzuki makes it fade away completely. The kiss seems gentle, exploratory; Hisoka is too distracted, too lost in his emotions and the ones from outside filling him to do much more than allow Tsuzuki to kiss him. But when he can center himself again, return from the intoxicating feeling of being needed, he makes a soft sound without meaning to and leans in closer, returning the kiss with shaky enthusiasm, if not skill.

     With that movement comes another flush of relief undertoned by the pulse of hunger and the faint shape of thoughts that he tastes sogood, and Hisoka almost loses himself again.

     Gasping, he draws away from the kiss and makes another sound. He can't remember ever making a noise quite like that, so soft and so... pleased. He can't remember ever feeling quite like this, either, with Tsuzuki trailing his lips in small kisses over his cheeks, along his jaw, and then down to his neck...

     And he knows he's never made a noise like that, a moan like that. A wave of arousal hits him, pouring from Tsuzuki and making his own suddenly acutely intense, almost too hard to bear. So fast... Hisoka's fingers clench against Tsuzuki's shoulders and he stops bothering to count the never-befores.

     Tsuzuki seems very pleased with the spot he's discovered, and he presses another kiss to the sensitive flesh, this one open and breathy and letting his tongue lap over the skin. This close to him, Hisoka can easily feel every nuance in the shiver of emotion from Tsuzuki, the way his pleasure comes as much from taste as from Hisoka's responses. Hisoka tilts his head until his cheek presses hard into the pillow, exposing more of his throat, gasping; it's strange to hear all these noises from himself, unmistakable as they are -- though not as strange as it is to feel Tsuzuki's tongue on his neck, and Tsuzuki's need wrapped tightly around his mind. This is happening very fast... maybe too fast, but he's not about to complain. Not when he wants like he does now.

     Then a puff of cool breath touches the wetness on his neck, and his whole body seems to jump toward Tsuzuki's all by itself; he resists his first impractical urge to just wrap his legs around Tsuzuki, and comes to the dizzy conclusion that he'd better interrupt this if he doesn't want to embarrass himself badly before too long. Cupping the older shinigami's cheek with slightly shaky fingers, he cranes down to meet Tsuzuki's lips again with a little more confidence, handling the confusing flood of emotion somewhat better this time. He presses forward, awkwardly, with his tongue, tasting and exploring, and is more than a little gratified to hear Tsuzuki moan. It feels like he's doing something right, at least...

     Absorbed as he is, it's a moment before Hisoka notices that Tsuzuki is slowly rolling onto his back -- not that he really minds once he does. The arms around his waist pull him along, so that he ends up more or less on top of Tsuzuki, still kissing him with the same tentative hunger. Of course, now there's the added distraction of his erection pressed between his body and Tsuzuki's hip, and there's no doubt that Tsuzuki can feel it too; his fresh wave of arousal makes Hisoka gasp into his mouth, and then when Tsuzuki rolls his hip in a small, deliberate circle, Hisoka has to break off the kiss for a moment, just to press his face into Tsuzuki's neck and groan.

     Maybe too fast. Definitely too fast. BUt he doesn't want it to stop.

     Tsuzuki's hands are moving, up over his back, wrinkling up the too-large shirt as they go. His hands move under the cloth to touch skin, and Hisoka hisses in breath as the contact just grows, strong enough to taste the words. I need you I need you. Over back and stomach and up to chest, fingers hot and just barely trembling. I need you I want you I. He can't keep track of what touch is physical and what is not, and he feels the shape of Tsuzuki's name come in a breath from his lips.

     And then Tsuzuki's hands move from his skin to tear at the buttons of the shirt, opening it and pushing it from his shoulders. He guides Hisoka to lean back, perched atop his hips and gasping for breath. In the darkness, their eyes meet, and Tsuzuki smiles.

     With the smile comes a feeling, frightening at first in its overwhelmingness, it's newness, but after a moment he realizes that it's been there for a long time, he's just been far too stupid to see it for what it was, or to realize it that it was for him. He knows what Tsuzuki will say before he opens his lips, and the knowledge makes his head swim.

     "I love you, Hisoka."

     For a long moment, there's not much Hisoka can do but shiver. The relief -- the happiness, painfully fierce and all but completely unfamiliar -- the answering ache... his own emotions would have flattened him even without the input from Tsuzuki.

     He has to swallow twice before he even trusts himself to move. Finally (as he feels a fine thread of nervousness twine into Tsuzuki's consciousness), he just wraps his arms around Tsuzuki again, and holds him tightly. Taking a deep breath, he concentrates all his attention on what he's feeling, and on lowering the mental defenses he's tried all his life to build up; and he opens his mind to Tsuzuki, letting their patterns synchronize and emotions flow freely both ways, so that Tsuzuki can feel for himself the echo that lives in Hisoka.

     "I love you," he whispers back, after a moment like this. It's almost too quiet to hear, and it's probably hardly necessary, but it's there, nonetheless.

     I know, it comes clear as words.

     Tsuzuki's hands and lips are on his skin again, trailing touch and kiss and elation at finally having this (needed you), being this close. He sits up, taking Hisoka with him and urging his legs around his waist. Body to body, cradled, Hisoka doesn't feel small, but safe.

     Then Tsuzuki rocks his hips upward and pulls all thoughts from lofty heights of spiritual connection back down to something much more primal. Hisoka presses his face to the man's throat and listens to the thudding of his pulse (so fast like mine) and takes in a deep breath of his half-sweet scent, now tinged with something more (want you). And then he rocks back, returning the motion, bringing hard to hard and heat to heat (close in every way, can't get closer, wish I), and doesn't need to bot her to think at all.

     Tsuzuki groans (for you, because of you) and lowers back to the bed, slipping his hands down the back of the pants that already are threatening to fall from Hisoka's hips. Hisoka jerks against him and his moan is doubled as soft, long fingers (I dreamed of them, you know) move down over skin that he had no idea was quite so sensitive.

     Need you. He's losing himself now, losing track of what's Tsuzuki and what's himself, edging forward through the space between them until there's no space left at all. Want you. And it is scary, not knowing who he is anymore, but in another way it's more wonderful than he could have imagined; it's like having a little bit of the world's most perfect bliss that he can hold in his hand and call his own. need want need If he could just back off for a minute, break the contact, find his own boundaries again, he'd be fine...

     ...but he doesn't want to be fine, and he doesn't want to back off, and he doesn't want to break anything for fear he might never put it back together again. If it's scary, let it be; he can take being afraid, and it won't matter as long as Tsuzuki's with him. Better to be a little lost here than a lot lost and alone again.

     He fumbles with the buttons of Tsuzuki's shirt, his fingers feeling too shaky to move them -- but somehow they do anyway, because in a moment he finds his hand spread out on Tsuzuki's chest (can feel your heart) (my heart), stroking the skin. Hisoka has nowhere near the presence of mind to work out getting the shirt off Tsuzuki's arms, nor does he really want Tsuzuki to take his hands away (so good I can't), so he just moves the fabric aside for the time being, and presses his cheek to Tsuzuki's chest. Listening to his heartbeat.

     His hand skims down Tsuzuki's belly, absently at first, but a sudden pulse of want picks up so strongly around its path (please yes Hisoka please) that he lets it be carried on that momentum, squeezing between their bodies to press against Tsuzuki's erection. They both moan, nearly in unison, and suddenly Hisoka knows exactly what it is he really wants.

     (your skin)

     The air is cool on Hisoka's skin as Tsuzuki pushes the too-large pants off his hips and (don't want to let go don't go away) untangles Hisoka's legs long enough to pull them off. For just a few seconds, they break contact, but Hisoka can still feel him, just as strong. Tsuzuki wriggles out of his own clothing and pulls Hisoka back on top of him. Hisoka feels more than hears the rough, short scream that comes from him as his cock, now harder than he can ever remember having been (for you, only you) rubs against the soft skin of Tsuzuki's belly. So much skin touching so much skin, it's like there's nothing between them at all, really.

     Hisoka rocks against Tsuzuki in a dreaming rhythm without thinking, shuddering each breath. His body moves without his control, back arching and hands clenching at Tsuzuki's shoulders. His body is burning, and he has the horrible feeling that this will be over soon, too soon, because it's so good. Sweat makes their bodies slick, hard rubbing hard, and Hisoka realizes in a dizzying rush (oh god I can) that he can feel Tsuzuki too, the ache of arousal caused by the touch of his own skin on the man's cock. Tsuzuki pulls at him again, circling his hips and moaning low music, and Hisoka can feel it start to build, start to (not yet) burn...

     Hisoka cries out and pushes away, breaking the grind of hips. Tsuzuki's hands glide up his back (don't want to end yet, so fast) and around over his chest, up to stroke the column of his (yes) neck. Hisoka's hands wander too, tracing out the soft lines of the man's body like he's caressing a fine instrument, coaxing out a melody. Tsuzuki arches to his touch, letting Hisoka lead him, play him, make him (come) moan...

     And the world collapses into feeling, and into a kind of raw union he's never felt before. It takes none of the tremendous effort that projecting his emotions normally does; it just is, like it's always been, like they've always been together like this and will never be apart again.

     -- wanted, for so long, you --

     -- ...know. all right, now --

     -- is? can I --

     -- please, waiting, need --

     -- slow. just a little... --

     (so warm) Tsuzuki's cock, hard under his exploring fingers (wanting), and he answers the want more readily even than his own (need you), not wanting to push this to the end (not yet) but no way to fight it past this point (please)...

     And Tsuzuki's hand closes around him, an exchange between their bodies as well as their minds, and he knows he couldn't resist this if he tried.

     Hot. Slow (faster please want you want to) (not yet). They move together, they moan together. Hisoka loses track of which hand is his own, stroking (dreamed of) and slipping (you). He can see his own hand on Tsuzuki's chest, moving to pull at a nipple, but he moans louder than Tsuzuki does at the touch.

     (taste) Hisoka drops back down in an ungraceful thump against Tsuzuki's chest to meet his lips (perfect). Their hands collide, awkward for only a moment until (together) they move, curling fingers together and pressing cock to cock (yes please yes)

     -- now please need to --

     -- yes --

     And now the speed builds (please) and crescendoes (yes) between them, burning (please) again, now overflowing (yes), so much, so fast, so strong, and all at once, in the same breath, the same heartbeat, the same (yes)...

     -- like nothing else, doubled by where they're joined, then tripled, then multiplied a hundredfold as the heat from each side feeds back into the other and burns them both that much hotter...

     And the hot wetness that spills across their interlocking hands and between their bodies seems almost trivial, next to the melting heat between their minds.

     ...One of them was being awfully loud, wasn't he? Hisoka (Tsuzuki) couldn't tell which at the time. Maybe both. But he (they) only realizes this when it's too late to matter; now they just lie tangled and shuddering, and if the neighbors have been disturbed, well, it's their problem now.

     (I need) (me too) Hisoka finally rolls off ot Tsuzuki, flopping gracelessly on the futon next to the man and breaking away from his touch. As his heartbeat slows (still yours) and his breath calms (still), the connection unravels and loosens, and he's himself again... but not alone.

     He turns to look at Tsuzuki to watch him as he breathes, lips parted and eyes closed. The smile on his lips feels like something completely new -- but then, everything feels new now. Tsuzuki opens his eyes, then, and looks at him with another new smile.

     He reaches out his arm to pull Hisoka close, to brush a kiss into his sweat-damp hair. "Love you, Hisoka," he murmurs, voice sleepy. The drowsiness creeps along the connection (or maybe it's simply his own, but there's no difference, really) and Hisoka finds himself yawning against Tsuzuki's throat. "For always. I promise."

     As with every promise Tsuzuki makes, Hisoka knows he means this one, and that's another brilliantly new feeling. His own promise is unspoken, but the touch of a hand over his heart says more than enough.

     And curled against Tsuzuki, feeling his breath, counting his heartbeats, slipping into a sleep with no barriers, it's finally enough.