During his lifetime, Hisoka’s birthday had been celebrated with the minimum of fuss, acknowledged for little more than formality’s sake. It was one of several annual events that he endured by emotionally withdrawing into himself and presenting a façade of civil normality in order to avoid provoking the wrath and fear of his parents and other relatives.

Since coming to Meifu, however, his birthday was something to be endured for completely different reasons. Any event that could be celebrated was welcomed by the shinigami (although grudgingly so by Tatsumi) as a welcome break from the often grim and thankless nature of their job and the monotony of eternal afterlife.

Even by shinigami standards, however, Hisoka’s 24th birthday was something out of the ordinary, despite his attempt to treat it like a regular Monday by going into work. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or exceedingly worried by the fact that none of his colleagues were doing anything particularly suspicious, extravagant or downright stupid. He didn’t mind the other shinigami politely wishing him a happy birthday, and despite offering a very half-hearted protest, he was secretly pleased when Tsuzuki enfolded him in a warm hug and affectionately nuzzled his hair. What he did find rather disconcerting was the lack of surreptitious party preparations. He knew he ought to be glad – he wasn’t particularly keen on a repeat of last year’s rowdy revelry, even though it had been rather amusing to watch Tatsumi help himself to far too much of Watari’s lab-fermented sake on the grounds that it was free.

Hisoka glanced up in bewilderment as Tsuzuki diligently set about dealing with the backlog of paperwork that had accumulated over the last week or so. What was even more confusing was that a couple of hours later, his partner was still hard at work, an expression of intense concentration on his face as he pored over a case report.

“Tsuzuki?” he asked, softly - too softly, he realised in embarrassment.

Tsuzuki lifted his head and met his partner’s eyes with a look that was both dreamy and intense. This had been happening a lot lately, and Hisoka half-wished that his partner wouldn’t do this to him – the combination of that captivating gaze and the emotional undertones of warmth and desire were invariably enough to make the young empath forget whatever he was doing and contemplate taking Tsuzuki there and then. Damn it, what was it about Tsuzuki that made him hard with need and left him feeling raw and vulnerable, his emotions in near-exquisite turmoil? Apart from everything, that was?

Hisoka blushed and averted his eyes, attempting to focus on the list of mountain shrines that he had brought up on his computer screen. Why on earth couldn’t he pluck up the courage to do something about the yearning that was threatening to consume the both of them? He knew precisely why Tsuzuki couldn’t – the pangs of guilt, the moments of dread-filled self-hatred and the painful sensation of hopeless longing told Hisoka all he needed to know. Chewing on his bottom lip in frustration, he returned to the task of locating the Shinto shrine that might provide some clues about the so-far inexplicable disappearance in their latest case.

“Hisoka?”

Tsuzuki’s voice nearly made him jump.

“Yes?” he answered cautiously, careful to keep his tone level.

“You were going to say something, before...”

Hisoka cringed. Whatever it was he’d been going to say to Tsuzuki a few minutes ago, he’d completely forgotten to do so. He took a deep breath and hoped his words would come out sounding like normal conversation and not like hormonal and besotted gibberish:

“I’m going to get myself a coffee, would you like one?”

He was quite sure that this was not what he had originally been going to say, but right at the moment, a sarcastic remark of: “You’re actually working – are you sure you’re feeling OK?” somehow didn’t seem appropriate.

~*~

At six o’ clock, Hisoka turned off his computer and prepared to go home. He was still none-the-wiser as to what outrageous or ridiculous event had been planned for his birthday this year, but by now, he’d picked up on a sense of impending mischief from Watari, exasparation from Tatsumi and nervousness from Tsuzuki. Something was afoot.

“Is it OK if I bring your present over about eight o’ clock?” asked Tsuzuki, addressing the question to his shoes rather than his partner.

Hisoka swallowed hard. Tsuzuki was not only radiating anxiety, he seemed to be deeply ashamed of himself for some reason. For the first time that day, an uneasy sense of foreboding began to eat at Hisoka’s nerves.

“Tsuzuki, is something wrong?” he inquired, noting his partner’s downcast eyes.

Tsuzuki shook his head and looked up, fixing Hisoka with big, imploring eyes. “I’m just afraid you’ll hate your present,” he murmured.

“You always think I’m either going to be angry at you for getting me a present at all or that I’m not going to like whatever is is,” Hisoka chided. “I’ve known you for long enough now that I’m used to you buying me silly things.” He reached out and lightly touched the older shinigami’s arm reassuringly, hoping fervently that his present wasn’t the one thing he could think of that Tsuzuki had not yet offered him on his birthday – his home-cooking.

~*~

By eight o’ clock, Hisoka had taken a bath, wracked his brain to think of what affection-inspired item Tsuzuki would present him with this year and why it might be so unsuitable, and had eaten dinner, deliberately leaving the bowls in the sink on the grounds that this was the best way to convey the message “Not hungry” to his partner, should it be necessary.

What struck him as a little odd was that he had not received any presents from the rest of the Shokan division. The only person who might have conceivably forgotten his birthday was Terazuma, and Wakaba would almost certainly have insisted on him getting something. Last year, it had been money towards a new shinai for kendo practice, a sneaky dig at Tsuzuki who had clumsily damaged the old one by tripping over it.

When the doorbell finally rang, Hisoka had pretty much worked out that he was going to be dragged off to a party somewhere, as the alternative - everyone turning up at his house - was unfeasible due to lack of space. He had no idea exactly where he’d be going and what might happen, but given the escapades of previous years, he felt as though he was prepared for anything...

...Except this.

He opened the door to discover Saya, Yuma and Watari grinning and swaying drunkenly as they attempted to hold up a rather large ‘present’ bound from head to toe in an assortment of colourful satin ribbons and sporting a bow in his hair.

For a moment, all Hisoka could do was to stare at his sheepish, be-ribboned partner and the three accompanying inebriated idiots. What. The. Hell...? Briefly, he contemplated shutting the door in their faces, then decided that this situation couldn’t possibly be what he was reading into it. Surely not even Tsuzuki would do something *that* stupid... would he?

No. It couldn’t be that. This was clearly just the Hokkaido duo and Watari’s idea of playful fun. They would undo Tsuzuki’s bindings and Hisoka would find himself hauled off to nearest karaoke bar for a night of exceedingly dubious entertainment.

“Happy Birthday, Hisoka-chan!” hiccupped Saya, stepping into the genkan and nearly falling over. She grabbed onto Yuma’s arm to support herself, almost overbalancing the rest of the group.

“Happy Birthday, Bon!” grinned Watari, giving Hisoka a knowing wink. “I think we’d better get your present inside before all the neighbours start giving us funny looks.

“Nobody saw you bringing him here in that state, did they?” demanded Hisoka.

“Naahhh, we teleported!”

“Happy Birthday, Hisoka-chan!” squealed Yuma, diving delightedly on the horrified empath and hugging him enthusiastically. Saya pounced on him from the other side, pressing her cheek up against his.

“Get off me!” he yelled, frantically trying to disentangle himself from the excitable girls, who were now cooing over how wonderful his freshly-washed hair smelt.

“We’ve found a really gorgeous dress that would go so well with your beautiful pale skin and the colour of your eyes!” purred Yuma.

“NO WAY!” objected Hisoka, finally freeing himself

“Hey, no worries, Bon, it’s just a joke!” reassured Watari.

“But I am NOT going to wear... Wait, what do you mean - ‘a joke’?”

“There is no dress,” admitted Yuma, sounding a little disappointed that this was the case.

“Then why...?” Hisoka broke off mid-sentence, suddenly realising that Tsuzuki was nowhere to be seen. “Where the hell..?”

“I put him in there,” explained Watari, indicating the living room, “while you were otherwise occupied.”

Before Hisoka had been able to really take any of this in, Saya put one hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid we’ve got to go now, she informed him. “We told Wakaba and the others we’d meet them at the karaoke bar sometime between half-eight and nine.”

“I’m sorry we can’t stop,” said Yuma, “We just dropped by to wish you a happy birthday and give you your various presents from everybody!”

“Various presents?” asked Hisoka, confused by the plural and by the lack of assorted bags which usually denoted a number of presents.

Saya giggled and blushed. “We hid them!” she announced, triumphantly.

Hisoka looked at her like she’d just sprouted an extra head. “Where?” he demanded, suspiciously.

Yuma smirked. “You’ll have to unwrap your main present to find out.”

Watari nearly choked, and Saya had to pat him on the back. Hisoka stood rooted to the spot, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief and his cheeks reddening by the moment. He would have yelled at the mischievous threesome, but his voice didn’t seem to want to work properly.

“Get out!” he muttered hoarsely, unsure whether to be incensed or delighted.

“Don’t worry, we’re going!” chirped Saya. “Enjoy your birthday!”

“And I hope you like your presents,” added Yuma, in a sultry purr, grabbing her partner and Watari and making a hasty exit before Hisoka had the chance to say anything further.

Hisoka leant heavily against the wall, his legs threatening to give way. He was furious that he’d been given absolutely no choice in the matter and that the unspoken feelings between himself and Tsuzuki had been acknowledged by Saya, Yuma and Watari in such a crass, ridiculous and humiliating manner. Damn it! Their feelings weren’t some kind of fucking joke.

What felt worse than this, however, was the realisation that none of this had been an act of malice or even insensitivity – they’d deliberately given him an excuse to be touchy-feely with Tsuzuki, to undress him even, complete with a “this is just a silly birthday prank” get-out clause, should either of them feel that they couldn’t cope with actually getting together. This might have been disguised as drunken light-hearted stupidity, but the three jokers had done this because they cared - and because no-one else in the office had either the nerve or the high spirits to go through with something like this. Hisoka could curse and fume and shout all he wanted to, but in the end, what real reason did he have to be angry with any of them? He felt like screaming at Tsuzuki, but that was out of pent-up emotions that he had no idea how to express in any other way.

He unsteadily stumbled down the hall and into the living room, feeling like his legs didn’t really belong to him. The sight that greeted him did nothing to ease his emotional turmoil. Tsuzuki had been placed on his knees in the center of the room, arms bound firmly behind his back, and his head resting against the floor, one cheek turned into the rug. Despite the ridiculous gaudy ribbons, he looked the picture of wanton submission, and Hisoka felt the blood rush to his cheeks again. This was so utterly humiliating and yet... why did the sight of Tsuzuki like that make his insides cramp up and his heart ache?

Alone in the room with Tsuzuki, he could now feel his partner’s emotions with painful clarity – and what he felt was heartbreaking. The playful, saucy mirth had vanished the moment Saya, Yuma and Watari had left. Tsuzuki was hurting - a broken mess of sorrow, shame, regret and utter self-hatred. No matter how angry and mixed-up Hisoka felt, he couldn’t leave his partner like this.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Hisoka crossed the room and knelt in front of the dark-haired shinigami.

“I’m sorry” whispered Tsuzuki, sounding very small and lost. “I shouldn’t have gone through with this – you’ve got every right to be angry at me. If... if you don’t want to be my partner anymore...”

“Tsuzuki, you stupid fucking idiot!” cried Hisoka, his voice cracking, “Stupid, stupid stupid! ” He was on the verge of screaming and breaking down in tears, and the answering rush of shame and pain from Tsuzuki nearly pushed him over the edge. He could could feel hot tears welling up in his eyes and burning against his cheeks, and didn’t even need to look to know that Tsuzuki was crying silently beside him. There really was only one thing to do right now, and he did it, reaching out one trembling hand towards Tsuzuki’s hair. He paused for a moment, in trepidation, then shut his eyes and brought his hand down until his fingers brushed against something soft and silky. Damn it, he’d wanted to do this for so long, why did it have to take a situation like this for him to actually pluck up the courage to stroke his partner’s hair?

“Idiot!” he whispered softly, though the sentiment was directed more at himself than Tsuzuki.

Now that he’d finally allowed himself to touch his partner lovingly, he didn’t want to stop. Tsuzuki’s small sob of happiness, relief and gratitude just made the contact feel that much sweeter. It was strange that such a simple action as gently running his fingers through that soft dark hair could feel so special. Perhaps it was because this was his way of letting Tsuzuki know that he loved him. He moved his hand to Tsuzuki’s cheek, lightly brushing away the tears and cupping his cheek gently for a moment before hesitantly reaching out to tremulously trace the line of Tsuzuki’s lips with one fingertip. Make-or-break moment. If he’d misread Tsuzuki’s feelings for him, he was about to find out.

For a split second, cold apprehension gripped him. What if he’d got things wrong? What would happen if.... And then he felt Tsuzuki’s tongue curl round his fingertip, warm, wet, so very reassuring and... and...

Hisoka couldn’t hold back a small whimper of pleasure as Tsuzuki began to suckle on his finger. The contact felt so much more intimate than it ought to, suffused with longing and desire and melting away any misgivings he might have had. Desire was something he thought he would never want to feel, something he’d viewed as frightening, disgusting and shameful and a weakness that could be used to hurt him. Yet wanting Tsuzuki like this somehow didn’t feel wrong at all. And being wanted by Tsuzuki felt...

“Mmmmmhhhhh!” Hisoka moaned in arousal and squirmed as he felt Tsuzuki’s thoughts. It was as though his partner’s tongue was thoroughly licking a lot more than just his finger – he could almost feel Tsuzuki's tongue swirling teasingly around the head of his cock and along the underside of his shaft, and then it was as though Tsuzuki was sucking him all the way in, withdrawing a little and taking him back deep inside.

“Tsuzuki!” he whimpered, removing his finger before his partner unintentionally brought him off with such simple, barely sexual contact. If something like this felt so good, just how much more intense would it feel if....? Even the thought was almost too much, and Hisoka choked back another moan. Nothing, not even their shy but sensual exchanges by eye-contact, had prepared him for how he was feeling right now. And they hadn’t even kissed yet.

Tsuzuki tried to lift his head, confused and upset that Hisoka had moved away. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, in a small voice.

“No!!” insisted Hisoka, immediately. “Well, you’ve done lots of things that are wrong, but not this....”

“You’re not angry at me anymore?”

“How could I be?”

Hisoka brought his hand back to Tsuzuki’s hair, stroking and reassuring him, confused at the nervous apprehension he could now feel emanating from his partner along with little shivers of excitement.

“What is it?” he asked, worried that he’d somehow messed up or misunderstood.

“I...” began Tsuzuki, uncertainly, then he lapsed into silence again, seeming somehow shy, nervous and afraid.

Hisoka was at a loss to understand the sudden change in Tsuzuki’s mood and felt hopelessly frustrated when fear and disappointment entwined themselves among the other emotions.

“Please, whatever it is, just tell me,” Hisoka pleaded, clenching his fists and biting his lip. Please don’t let anything ruin this – not now...

“I want to... but I’m scared. I don’t think I could cope with you hating and being disgusted with me right now.”

“Tell me!!” Hisoka could feel the tension tugging at his sanity until he felt like he was going to snap. He let all his barriers down, and reached out desperately with his empathy, trying to understand what Tsuzuki was feeling. For some reason, he found his gaze falling on Tsuzuki’s hips, the slender buttocks held high and tilted upwards, waiting for something, waiting for him.

“What I did today was bad,” continued Tsuzuki.

Hisoka opened his mouth to interrupt him, but realising that Tsuzuki was trying to work up the courage to say something else, he said nothing and waited for his partner to finish.

“Please.... punish me!” whispered Tsuzuki, his voice so quiet as to be almost inaudible.

Hisoka finally understood, images flooding through his mind: of Tsuzuki still bound tightly from the waist upwards but his buttocks bared and trustingly, gratefully exposed; of his own hand gladly and lovingly striking the flesh offered to him. It felt so utterly alien to him to be experiencing concepts such as ‘bondage’ and ‘punishment’ as not only erotic but also an expression of love, but he couldn’t deny what he felt from Tsuzuki.

Not trusting himself to say anything until he had somehow got his head around what he had been asked to do, he moved round behind Tsuzuki, set his knees astride his partner’s legs and leant forward, wrapping his arms round his waist and trailing kisses down his spine. Tsuzuki wriggled his hips as much as his bindings would allow him to move. Hisoka groaned, instinctively pressing forward into the sensual squirming, and rocked almost dreamily against his partner. Tsuzuki wriggled harder, almost overbalancing himself in the process.

“Tsuzuki!” Hisoka gasped, trying desperately not to lose control. “If you keep doing that, I’m...”

By way of an answer, he received a soft, throaty laugh and the older shinigami moved his hips in small, slow circles against Hisoka’s aching erection, deliberately teasing him.

“Bad Tsuzuki!” whimpered Hisoka, kissing his partner affectionately and wanting, more than anything, to be inside him right now. He could feel the delicious thrill that ran through Tsuzuki’s body in response to his words and with it came the shock of realisation: what Tsuzuki wanted had absolutely no connection with abuse or cruelty or even the need to be punished to assuage feelings of guilt. The way Tsuzuki was behaving was playful - he simply wanted to be spanked, and like a naughty child or puppy, he wasn’t going to give up until he got what he wanted. Especially now that he had realised that Hisoka might not be totally averse to the idea.

“Very bad Tsuzuki,” he whispered, as the tantalizing movements against his painfully restrained erection continued. “If you do that once more, I’ll have to...” He broke off, unable to actually bring himself to say the words “take your pants down and spank you”. He couldn’t recall having ever said anything that might be considered sexual, and it would take some time before he was able to, probably even longer before he could do so without dying inwardly of embarrassment.

Tsuzuki was clearly willing to take a chance on what the “I’ll have to...” might mean, because he pushed back as hard as he could, squirming excitedly against Hisoka, so much so that the younger shinigami could hardly stand it.

“I warned you,” murmured Hisoka, moving away and standing up with some difficulty, his legs feeling weak and shaky. He limped towards his small desk, remembering that he had a pair of scissors in there, and wished he was unselfconscious enough to take off his jeans in front of his partner. He glanced back at Tsuzuki, and saw that he was watching him, taking in every hobbling step with affectionate amusement.

“It’s alright for you – you’re not wearing jeans!” grumbled Hisoka, kneeling down awkwardly and carefully cutting through Tsuzuki’s ribbon-bindings.

“Take them off,” suggested Tsuzuki, gently.

Hisoka blushed and nearly slipped in his careful movements with the scissors. It was ridiculous to be so embarrassed at the thought of taking his jeans off, especially as he would have to at least undo them if he wanted to make love to Tsuzuki, but he couldn’t help the way he felt.

“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki asked, tentatively.

“Mm?”

“Would you like *me* to take your jeans off later?”

Hisoka shivered in pleasure and excitement. Somehow, allowing Tsuzuki to do it didn’t seem quite so... difficult... so... impersonal.

“Yes,” he murmured quietly, snipping his way through another couple of ribbons.

“Thank you!” whispered Tsuzuki.

Hisoka lifted his head and made a noise of surprise.

“Thank you for trusting me, thank you for allowing me to get close to you,” Tsuzuki elaborated, his voice soft and happy.

Hisoka put the scissors down and lay down on the floor beside Tsuzuki, wriggling up to him on his stomach until their faces were level with each other. He leaned forward, tilting his head so he could reach Tsuzuki’s mouth, and gently kissed him. Immediately, he wondered why in hell he hadn’t done this before. This felt so natural, Tsuzuki’s lips felt so soft and smooth, and the answering caress as Tsuzuki kissed him back was so loving it made him feel high and giddy. Kissing Tsuzuki was nice - it wasn’t at all frightening or seedy. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do with somebody you loved.

Pulling away a little so that he could look at his partner, Hisoka was gratified to see the same dreamy-yet-heated expression on Tsuzuki’s face that had turned him to mush so many times and often in the most inappropriate locations. Things were different now, because he could respond to that look. It really was OK to gaze lovingly back at his partner, to kiss him and touch him... and to take things further. Hisoka brought one hand up to Tsuzuki’s face and gently cupped his cheek, then moved in for another kiss. This wasn’t the easiest position to kiss in, and Tsuzuki’s neck must be aching by now after being stuck in the same position for ages, as he couldn’t move his head very far without straining something or toppling himself over.

“Do you still want me to punish you?” whispered Hisoka, his fingertips tracing gentle patterns on Tsuzuki’s cheek.

“Please,” murmured Tsuzuki, that one word full of need, longing and the desire to submit to his punishment.

Hisoka needed no further persuasion, and sat up, fumbling for the scissors so that he could free Tsuzuki’s legs from their bonds.

“Please, leave my arms tied up for now?” Tsuzuki begged of his partner.

“Aren’t they hurting?” Hisoka carefully cut through the final ribbon that held Tsuzuki’s legs captive.

“A little, but I want to feel as helpless as possible when you punish me.”

Oh god, why is this turning me on so much? wondered Hisoka, excited beyond all reason at the idea of Tsuzuki being helpless under his touch. He nervously placed one hand on Tsuzuki’s bottom, tentatively caressing the smooth but slender and muscular contours, trying to come to terms with being able to touch Tsuzuki somewhere so personal. He almost didn’t want to move his hand away, he wanted to continue feeling every little shiver of excitement that his touch induced in his partner.

Uncertain and a little apprehensive, Hisoka lifted his hand and brought it down against Tsuzuki’s backside with a light tap. Not much response. He tried again, this time bringing his hand down more sharply, and was rewarded by a gasp of pleasure... and Tsuzuki nearly falling over as he rocked his hips excitedly.

The young empath frowned – there had to be some way of doing this without overbalancing his partner from his decidedly awkward and precarious position. Kneeling down beside Tsuzuki, he tucked one arm around his waist to hold him steady, and brought the other hand down on his backside with a sharp slap. The dark-haired shinigami shivered and moaned in delight, trying to lift his hips up in a silent plea for more. Hisoka’s next strike was a little clumsy, and caught the top of Tsuzuki’s leg instead of his rear... and also caught something else, which was most definitely not part of Tsuzuki and felt hard and angular.

Tsuzuki yelped and Hisoka apologized, realising that this particular pain was anything but erotic. He ran his hand cautiously over the strange lump. It felt like a small box of some description – and then he remembered: birthday presents. They were all tucked away somewhere inside Tsuzuki’s clothes.

“Tsuzuki, you’re going to have to lie down so I can...” Hisoka took a deep breath and steeled himself to say the words, “take your pants off.”.

Tsuzuki whimpered happily as Hisoka fumbled nervously at the clasp of his pants and drew down the zipper and moaned loudly as Hisoka’s fingertips accidentally brushed against his erection. He allowed the younger shinigami to carefully ease him down onto the rug, obediently moving as directed to assist in the removal of his pants.

Hisoka stared in amazement at the assorted items which had fallen out, some of which were wrapped up, some of which were left unwrapped, presumably for ease of immediate use. He might have no previous experience of consensual love-making, but even he knew what the tube bearing the word “lubricant” was for.

Pushing the ribbons and assorted presents to one side, Hisoka forced himself to resist the temptation of just kissing and stroking Tsuzuki’s legs, and helped his partner back into a kneeling position. He wished that Tsuzuki would let him untie his arms and allow himself freedom from the discomfort that this was causing him, but... oh god, he looked even more tempting in this position, now that he was no longer wearing his pants. He looked more vulnerable, and the soft material of his boxer shorts did absolutely nothing to disguise how excited he was.

Putting his arm back around Tsuzuki’s waist to hold him steady, Hisoka delivered one sharp smack to his buttocks, then another... and another, each progressively harder as his confidence grew and he realised that the more it hurt, the more Tsuzuki loved it. It didn’t matter that his own hand was stinging from the blows – what mattered was Tsuzuki writhing and whimpering and silently pleading for more, harder against his bare skin.

Feeling more daring now, Hisoka reached his hand round and gently placed it on Tsuzuki’s cloth-covered erection. He slowly caressed the warm hardness, feeling it throb under his touch, drawing forth a helpless moan of arousal from his partner.

No... he couldn’t say it... could he? Yes. He could. For the sake of turning Tsuzuki on even further, he would say it.

“Do you..” he began hesitantly, “Do you think you’ve... been bad enough that you... that you deserve to... to be spanked... without these on?” He lightly tugged at Tsuzuki’s boxer shorts and blushed so hard that his face felt hot. He couldn’t believe what he’d just said and done, but it was worth it to see and feel his partner tremble with excitement.

“Please!!" Tsuzuki begged, “Ohhhh, please! I want you to punish me as severely as possible.”

Hisoka gingerly pulled Tsuzuki’s underwear down, being careful to lift the fabric over his erection. The urge to gently tickle Tsuzuki’s cock was just to great to resist, and Hisoka lovingly tormented his desperately aroused partner, driving the both of them crazy with need. Finally, as Tsuzuki’s voice was beginning to choke into little sobs at the unbearable pleasure, he removed his hand from Tsuzuki’s aching length and continued to slide the boxer shorts down, easing them under his knees, and then removing them entirely, to be discarded amongst the ribbons and the birthday presents.

Tucking his arm back round Tsuzuki’s waist, Hisoka snuggled into him for a few moments, revelling in the softness of his skin and kissing his back.

“Are you ready for this?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Tsuzuki breathed, that one syllable suffused with need.

Hisoka lightly caressed the exposed and vulnerable flesh for a moment, and then delivered a sharp smack to the bare skin. Tsuzuki whimpered and involuntarily tried to buck forwards, but Hisoka held him firmly in place, spanking him soundly. What seemed so strange at first was that he didn’t feel in the least bit guilty or ashamed for doing this. But what was there to feel bad about? With every smack that he inflicted on Tsuzuki’s rapidly reddening buttocks, he felt Tsuzuki’s joy grow at his own helplessness, at being only able to meekly submit and endure. Somehow, this felt liberating, exhilarating, a forbidden thrill which left Tsuzuki almost delirious with the pleasure-pain and Hisoka not far behind him, losing himself in the endorphin haze and giddy with the knowledge that he was the one who was able to make Tsuzuki feel like this.

Trailing one finger down the cleft of Tsuzuki’s buttocks, Hisoka reached down and gently cupped his testicles. He let his other arm slip from round his partner’s waist, and brushed his fingertips against Tsuzuki’s erection, deliberately tickling and teasing him to distraction. He had no idea how Tsuzuki could stand the sensations, because even experiencing things secondhand via his empathy, Hisoka himself was almost crying out and begging for release. Unable to take any more, he curled his fingers around Tsuzuki’s cock, and began to slowly, firmly pump the warm hard length.

“So good!” whimpered Tsuzuki, attempting to thrust against the movements of his partner’s hand.

“Shhh, stay still, you’re going to fall over,” Hisoka murmured, realising just how shaky his partner was. Tsuzuki stilled, parting his legs a little further to help balance himself, and moaned helplessly as he submitted completely to the younger shinigami.

Tsuzuki’s joy at handing over all control of his own pleasure was intoxicating, and Hisoka continued with his slow, steady pace, mewling softly and almost unthinkingly bringing his other hand down to his own cock. Clumsily fumbling at the fastening of his jeans, Hisoka breathed a sigh of relief when the button popped open and he was able to drag the zipper down. He slipped his hand inside his underwear, and the touch of his own hand on his swollen and painfully aroused flesh was finally more than he could bear. Drawing on what felt like his last reserves of co-ordination and energy, he speeded up his ministrations, bending forward to lick and kiss Tsuzuki’s back as he felt his partner’s body arch and convulse in pleasure. Caressing Tsuzuki throughout his orgasm, he came helplessly into his own clumsily fondling hand before finally collapsing onto his partner.

Gradually, the dazed euphoria faded into a feeling of peace and happiness. Exhausted from the exertion, Hisoka snuggled contentedly into Tsuzuki’s back and softly caressed the still-heated and tingling skin of his buttocks with one hand. Holding Tsuzuki gently captive like this, he felt incredibly loving and protective towards him – it was wonderful having his too-vulnerable partner safe in his arms, being able to kiss and stroke and reassure him. Hisoka leant over, brushing his lips against Tsuzuki’s rear, and pressed open-mouthed, damp kisses against the abused flesh. He didn’t know if what they’d done was right or wrong, but it didn’t seem to really matter with Tsuzuki lying drowsily across his lap. The only thing that mattered was that they were together at last.

"Hisoka," murmured Tsuzuki, sleepily.

"Mm?"

"Happy Birthday, and I hope you don't mind too much about your birthday present. I know it's nothing wonderful, but..."

"Silly!" whispered Hisoka, affectionately. "There's only one complaint I've got about my present."

"What's that?"

"I'd like it to be easier to unwrap next year!" He tugged in mock-frustration at the ribbons still binding Tsuzuki's arms.

"What do you want your present to be wrapped in next year?"

"My arms," said Hisoka, very softly, as he snuggled down against Tsuzuki, holding him close.

~*~*~*~



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