All Kinds of Burglaries

The door clicked with the familiar sound of a key turning fully. A light step, turn around and he was inside, out of the drizzling rain. He could sense it; something was wrong. There was light coming from the living room, and… was that the clank of a frying pan he heard?

"Welcome home," came a call from the kitchen. Tatsumi recognized the voice instantly. Who else would have the gall to break into his house but that boy? He swore, every time he thought he'd laid down the rules and cleared his conscience, something like this would happen.

Tatsumi shrugged out of his coat, placed it on the hanger and stepped further in. This time, he was going to chew Hisoka out, totally.

"What are you doing here? I never leave the door unlocked so don't even think about claiming that," he barked out.

His anger seemed wasted on Hisoka. Or maybe he just saw through it. "I'm cooking you dinner, what does it look like!" Hisoka answered, miffed and waving a wooden fork around. "Shouldn't you be happy someone cares enough to feed your sorry ass?"

"That's not my point and you know it," Tatsumi rebutted. After a pause to fix his glasses, he continued. "It's the principle. I don't remember giving you a key, and as far as I remember, breaking and entering is still an offence."

Hisoka turned around, holding the large and sizzling hot frying pan, frowning. "What will you do about it then? Arrest me?" Turning back again, he placed the pan back to the stove, turned the heat off and pulled his hands back. "Go on, cuff me then."

Tatsumi's eyebrow twitched. "What makes you think I have handcuffs?" Thinking better of asking that, he quickly continued, almost afraid to hear the possible answer. "But I'd still like an explanation of how you got in. And what the hell are you wearing!?"

"You mean, what the hell am I not wearing, but hey, I'm not as anal as you, so I'm not gonna pick on that," Hisoka flashed something that vaguely resembled a grin, but who could tell with him. "Okay, I'll give a hint. Your bedroom window, the smaller one? You have no bars on it. And you leave it open. Tsk, Tatsumi."

Tatsumi could only raise his eyebrows and pick his jaw from the floor. "But that window is tiny! I never thought… Ah, forget that. I'm not going to argue with you," he said as he turned away, pondering his options. It was either forcing some sense and common decency to Hisoka's hard head, or let it slide and try if the boy really knew how to cook. Both had good points. Hisoka deserved to get thrown out, and the last time he let another man in his kitchen wasn't a happy memory. On the other hand, he was quite hungry, and he might as well take advantage of the situation. Especially in regards to the barely dressed chef that kept picking on the cuffs of the overly huge shirt and prancing around like he owned the damn place…

Calm down, Tatsumi reminded himself. This was hardly worth getting worked up over. A few deep breaths, and he was just about to regain his precious balance, when the boy had to open his big mouth again.

"Hey, your seasonings suck! You're all out of mirin, and the only vinegar here is this crappy cheap bottle that's been opened for god knows how long. I thought your type took better care of their…"

Two long strides, and Tatsumi was looming over Hisoka, glaring down on him and making damn sure he was invading the so-called personal space.

"Listen now, boy, I just came home after a particularly annoying and very, very long meeting that was this close turning into the next civil war, and what I don't need is a snotty little creature to break into my home, steal my clothes, use my kitchen and… and then dare to…!" He was practically seething in his rage, all of the day's frustration and pent up anger coming out. He raked his eyes over the soiled apron (his apron) and the wrinkled shirt (his too), and suddenly, all that rage turned towards those pieces of cloth. They were his, and he needed, he had to get them back, now!

He reached to the neck and yanked one string, undoing the knot with such force he heard the fabric rip somewhere. Amazingly enough, it didn't bother him. Even if it came off in tiny little shreds it wouldn't matter because it would be his to tear, abuse and discard. No one else would wear it again. Not without his explicit permission.

Next, the knot on the back… Tatsumi reached for it, and at long last (or maybe, it merely felt like a long time) he looked at his opposition in the eye.

Defiant, unrelenting, sparking so cold it might as well be hot instead. That and much more, a jaw fixed in place to create a stubborn slope, mouth opening just enough to let his breath out, all these set in an expression that spoke of veiled fear, anticipation… and excitement?

He had no chance to contemplate that any further, as a warm body pressed to him, draping against him. The green eyes faded from view to be replaced by an unapologetic force of lips, pushing up and pulling him down at the same time. Tatsumi soon caught himself answering the demand, not falling short on the wild, crushing contact. He tightened his hold of the slim body. Tighter, still closer, until he heard a tiny gasp.

It was a warning, but it went unheeded. Even after a small struggle for breath, Hisoka wouldn't let go of him. He only clung tighter, wriggled more, lured his lust further.

Forcibly, Tatsumi detached from the embrace and finally reclaimed the apron in one long pull on the hem. He eyed the torn edges with distaste, then threw the whole garment away. It landed over the cactus on the windowsill.

"I'm warning you. My patience is getting thin for your games today."

Hisoka regarded him dryly. "Games? Oh please," he sneered as he stepped towards the bedroom door. "What you really want is to-" he tugged at the shirt he was wearing, "rip this off, throw me down and fuck me. What the hell is wrong with you? Can't you let go of that stupid self-control?"

Tatsumi stared blankly for some seconds. A dry, humourless laugh he let out almost choked in his throat. He stepped forward. "Are you saying you want me to be more spontaneous?"

A step. Hisoka glanced to his side and adjusted his route. Backing away to a corner wouldn't be very intelligent. Then again, was he going for intelligence here?

"Wouldn't hurt for a change," he muttered, backing away.

Tatsumi kept advancing. "You want me to go wild, let loose?" Shrug, and the suit coat fell to the floor. "Less calm and collected?" Step, step, pause. "You-" fisting a handful of blond hair, yanking it back, his voice rising in steady pitch. "You want me to do that?"

"Mmh, well…" Hisoka squirmed back, only to find he'd reached a wall.

"Answer me!"

Between the wall and Tatsumi, Hisoka tried to get some space around him, but only managed to rub so deliciously against Tatsumi's firm, warm body. This tension, it was so thick one could cut it with a knife and get it stuck. It was getting harder to breathe.

"Ye- yes…" Hisoka gasped, arching closer to Tatsumi. The contact weakened his knees, forcing him to lean onto the man and take a wider stance.

Tatsumi raised one eyebrow. "Is that so?" It was enough of permission. Lifting Hisoka up from the backs of his thighs, Tatsumi pressed him against the wall. Complying, Hisoka settled his legs behind Tatsumi's waist, then tilted his head, as if waiting for the next move.

He didn't need to wait long. Tatsumi's mouth crushed onto his, raw and unforgiving. It was not the kiss of a passionate lover. It was a kiss of ownership, of dominance and power. But somehow, it wasn't uncomfortable. This was a power he had given up. There was no fight over it, not really. With Tatsumi, it felt safe to drown in the murky waters of lust and possession. It felt good to be taken in.

In the midst of his attack, Tatsumi reached toward his belt buckles. For the first time he thought it could be better to buy new, better fitting pants instead of using the aid of belts. The buckles were not the easiest things to manoeuvre while holding and feeling up a squirming young man.

Lifting Hisoka just a bit more, he was able to untie the belt and get rid of his trousers and underwear in a haste mess. Hisoka's constant writhing and the rather distracting massage of his neck didn't help at all.

He took a firmer hold of the thighs around him, squeezing hard, almost wishing he could see the pink mark where his fingers scraped, the faint blue of a forming bruise. Instead, he dipped his head down to bring those beautiful marks on the more visible space of Hisoka's neck.

A choked whimper, the stretching of the neckline, and Tatsumi, unable to resist, ground harder. Through soft worn cotton shirts, their erections rubbed together, drowning out all other emotions for a second.

Through the static of rustling clothes and blood rushing in his ears, Tatsumi finally detected words forming amidst the mumble. They spilled from Hisoka's parted lips, barely making sense but eventually gathering into known syllables when he strained to listen.

"Take me… take… now…"

Tatsumi stilled. His rational mind slowly turned to focus as if it were triggered by the tempting plea. Slowly, he raised his head, nipping lightly on his way.

"The condoms… they're in the bedroom…"

Instead of the expected nod or annoyed sigh from the interruption, Tatsumi received a more peculiar reaction. The legs around his waist tightened their hold, the knees digging into his sides.

"No!" Hisoka tossed his head back and whispered: "I don't need to…"

Tatsumi stopped completely, then in a heartbeat took hold of Hisoka's jaw, twisting his head to face him. "What do they teach you in sex education nowadays?"

Hisoka shrugged disinterested. "That gay boys don't get pregnant?"

A moment of confused blinking, and Tatsumi's lips began to twitch. It wasn't much longer until he was laughing, his whole body shaking as he chuckled against Hisoka's shoulder.

Hisoka, on the other hand, was not that amused. "What's so funny now?"

Calming his breath, Tatsumi finally answered: "That… was the… most ingenious excuse for not using a condom." He chuckled a bit more, then continued, "But I wasn't born yesterday. We're using them anyways."

Hisoka looked away, rolling his eyes. "Pfft. Whatever."

"That's the spirit! Nothing is quite as arousing as disregard of personal health and well being," he teased as he stepped out of the pile of clothes on his feet. Teasing Hisoka was always so entertaining, Tatsumi mused as he carried him to the bedroom.

"You gonna talk my ears off or actually do something?"

Entertaining indeed. "Aren't you just begging for punishment?"

The enjoyment, apparently, went both ways. "Is that a promise?"

"You never know," Tatsumi commented, dropping Hisoka on the bed with less than considerable gentleness.

Hisoka landed on the bed with a thud. He yawned pointedly while Tatsumi searched through the night table, folding his glasses away one-handed. That didn't take long, Tatsumi was quite organised after all. He let his eyes rake over the older man's form, stretching lazily and feigning indifference to the sight before him.

Tatsumi was a strikingly handsome man, he had to admit. For an old guy that is.But did he ever take his time with the careful opening of the wrapper, then checking the rubber, then slowly rolling it…

He sighed, but the tension in his throat made it come out as a weird little mewling sound. That, and the fact he just had to reach down and give a firm stroke (or many) to his straining cock only served to disprove his carefully disinterested appearance.

Evidently, there was a redeeming quality for the condoms too.

"Hope you're not chickening out and bathing in lube like usual," Hisoka quipped between strokes.

"Well forgive me for trying to be thoughtful," Tatsumi snapped back. The boy was really baiting him to lose his temper, but he wasn't about to. No, it was more like a playful banter now on his side. Then again, Hisoka did, in fact, seem very excited about their little rough play earlier. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to continue with that.

"Now you get what's been coming," he growled, seizing Hisoka's legs in his hold, then flipping him over. "Be a good boy and show me the pain, hmm?" With that, he settled behind the upturned bottom, leaned over to bite on the back of Hisoka's shoulder and pushed his way into him.

"A-aa--! Bastard that… oh!" Hisoka swore and howled, yet pushed back for more.

"You… were the one… who didn't want the lube…" Tatsumi mumbled to his neck. Such a sweet neck it was, all bruised now. Tatsumi licked one purple mark, then bit down next to it, thrusting in deeper than before.

Hisoka kept shrieking and panting as the thrusts hastened. He pushed back, causing the pounding hardness sink even deeper. No pain could be more pleasing than this, the tingling and chafing and the teeth clamping on his flesh. He pressed his head to the mattress, to muffle his voice or hide his grimace, he wasn't sure about that.

Tatsumi's hand tried to reach toward his erection, but he quickly slapped it away. No touching should spoil this moment, this fleeting flash of pure and undiluted lust.

Getting his hand swatted away, Tatsumi spent a second staring at it. Why wasn't he allowed to…

That thought never matured. It dissolved into thin air the moment Hisoka did another one of those utterly delectable little squeeze-and-sway movements, coupled with the faint sound of a rapturous cry. The thought was gone, dead and buried by the time Tatsumi restarted pounding into him, forcing his hips higher.

Hisoka's arms extended up, grasping empty air. His fists fell to the bed, clenching the blanket beneath them. Tatsumi watched, completely entranced. He could make that happen. It was unbelievable, unreal.

He leaned over Hisoka's back. Just a little more skin against skin, a bit of nibbling, a trail of tongue along the spine. It didn't matter how they ended up like this. In fact, Tatsumi could care less of anything more than his moves, the slap of skin bumping on skin, the smell of sex and rubber and the dried raindrops on Hisoka's hair, the taste of sweat under his tongue. It was all there, and it was available.

And it was too much too soon. Or too much too late. He could only thrust harder as his release caught him, rolling over him in waves. Biting down on the tense shoulders, he shuddered in time with his release. One small grunt, and he was spent.

Hisoka clenched his eyes shut, forcing his mind blank. The clarity of feeling was better that way. Every thrust brought him closer to that elusive emptiness, the point where nothing more existed than the blunt throbbing in his groin. It was so close, he felt it, he could almost grasp it. Gritting his teeth, he pushed back again, his hands trashing around as if searching for something solid to hold on to.

Then, it just stopped.

Hisoka reeled, wondering what the hell happened to make him lose that wonderful nothingness. He was just about to fall on his side when he felt Tatsumi's hands sneaking around him, pulling him closer and arranging him into the embrace.

"…Sorry. I'm sorry. Hisoka? …do you hear me?"

Hisoka blinked. Sorry? "Wh… what?"

The hold tightened. "I'm sorry. I… that was…" After a pause to consider his words, Tatsumi finally settled on a sarcastic comment. "Not one of my shiniest moments, really." Somewhere between his words, he paid a passing thought to the used condom that was most likely around the vicinity of the night table where he'd tossed it just before cuddling up. He'd have to remember to dispose it properly later.

Stretching his cramping legs, Hisoka leaned back and regarded him with a serious face. "It was supposed to be… like that."

Tatsumi lead his hand softly down the moistened skin. "I can still satisfy you…" he breathed out as he caressed the smooth skin on Hisoka's front.

Groaning, Hisoka paid his consideration with another slap on the fingers. "Please, just leave it."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"That's what I'm asking."

Silence. It hung over them, not heavy, but thick. It was the kind of silence that's bound to break, and you can only hold your breath and wait for the end.

Tatsumi could be a very patient man.

"…I thought you needed something to… take your mind off… and that worked on him too…" Hisoka's voice was very quiet, nearly a whisper, but in the silence, it all rang clear like a loudspeaker.

Tatsumi ran his hand over the back. Unexpected, but he'd learned to expect that. He was torn over his feelings. Hisoka had basically thrown himself at him, just to ease his stress. Then again, the thought where he'd learned that was repulsive. Besides, Tatsumi wasn't like him.

"I… guess it worked, on some level," he sighed. "But I'm not him. You don't have to offer your body to make me happy," he continued, snuggling up and breathing in the scent of his hair.

"I know. I just…" A tired sigh. He turned his face toward Tatsumi's chest and hid. That was too painful to think about. He had nothing else to offer, why would Tatsumi care for else?

"…You're crying," Tatsumi whispered, casually. It wasn't going to work if he got too emotional.

"I'm not."

"Then tell me why you broke in," he challenged. He felt a drop of water hit his chest. Either the ceiling leaked or someone was crying.

"I couldn't stay home, okay?" Hisoka snapped and tossed his head back, revealing his watery eyes. "Mother's delusional again, and they just keep screaming, and frankly I'd rather get viciously fucked than listen to that…" He hid his face quickly, as if afraid he said too much.

Tatsumi took a deep breath. He knew how Hisoka's family was, but it never failed to upset him. The young man didn't deserve it all. He caught himself, once again, thinking that he should just take him in, feed him and dress him, and maybe whisk them both away from this wretched city to some place where no one knew of the name Kurosaki.

Letting the breath out, he closed his eyes and brushed his lips against the hair. "Hisoka. Stop. I wouldn't have done it if I knew…"

"But I wanted it! What are you blabbing again, I liked it, you hear? I, fucking, liked it." Hisoka was glaring at him. The look was so fierce there was no question about the truth. For once, Hisoka was being brutally honest. It was not the words that upset him; it was the look of hurt and desperation that accompanied them. And the tears, oh god the tears…

"Shh, don't." Tatsumi gathered him back into his embrace. "Don't cry. You're a man now, aren't you. And much too beautiful to cry," he spoke softly, almost despairing himself. Dealing with crying never was his forte.

"…Shut up, you're embarrassing me." Hisoka sniffed and smiled against the chest he was leaning on.

A low rumble of a half-laugh. "Let's make a deal then. You don't cry, and I don't embarrass you anymore."

Hisoka looked up. Tilting his head appraisingly, he tapped his chin and answered: "Deal."

"Good," Tatsumi agreed. Half abstracted, he wiped the tear trails dry and nuzzled the damp skin. Salty, he observed before returning to his previous thoughts. What was it again that had puzzled him so greatly?

Hisoka took comfort in the silence. It was so peaceful. Tatsumi had begun an almost undetectable rocking motion, and his hands were treading Hisoka's hair. He relaxed. This was the single most serene moment he could remember.

And of course, Tatsumi had to go and break it with trivial queries.

"But tell me, why didn't you let me touch you earlier?"

The telltale tingling on his cheeks proved he was having another one of his blush attacks. Hisoka decided to actively ignore it. "Didn't we agree on no more embarrassment?" His glare was wasted on Tatsumi's cool blue gaze. He didn't need to be threatening to be demanding; it was a natural kind of authority he could exert on command. Hisoka was no more immune to it now than before. "I just didn't feel like it," he muttered, hiding his face into the chest he was leaning on.

"Hmm," Tatsumi nodded, trailing his hands down the still clothed back of his lover. "How about now then?" A ghost of a touch, dry lips over his collar, wrought a pleasant shiver over him.

"But why?" Hisoka peeked at him, puzzled. "You came already."

A sigh accompanied by an amused sound. "I'm not that selfish, haven't you noticed that by now? Besides, didn't you say you liked it even if you didn't…?"

"I… that was… well, yes."

"Sometimes, to give is to receive. I'm asking you to let me do the same for you," Tatsumi whispered as he lapped on the spot where Hisoka's vein pulsed on his throat, bringing his hand around to give a teasing tweeze to his nipple.

Arching to the touch, Hisoka inhaled sharply. "Sounds good," he whimpered on exhale. Tatsumi was really good, experienced and skilled, yet considerate and kind. Hisoka was not used to kindness. What he knew best was self-serving gratification, exchanges where his own pleasure was only fodder for someone else's, if not entirely unnecessary. That's why he was getting exceedingly nervous now.

Or was it because he wasn't sure he could enjoy anything that did not hurt, did not make his heart pound with adrenaline, did not leave him totally on someone else's mercy?

"I can hear your synapses working overtime there. What's with that?" Tatsumi took Hisoka's chin in his hand and turned. He searched the wide eyes for any sign to tell him to stop, but could find only confusion. "Tell me, what is wrong?"

Hisoka shook his head. "Nothing. Really. Go on, I won't space out again." Seeing the doubt in Tatsumi's face, he let out a small laugh. "Really, it was great. Here," he guided the hand that kept circling over his arm downwards, onto his hardening length.

Tatsumi smiled. Stroking firmly, he felt the flesh grow stiff, saw the muscles above go taut and quiver, heard the breaths quicken. He nibbled on the earlobe. So soft and supple, like most everything in Hisoka. Intoxicating.

Laying them down on the bed, Tatsumi kept rubbing and licking. The warm skin on the neck, heartbeats thumping through, it was nearly mesmerising. He had a thing for pretty necks for sure. He found a purple bruise when the boy turned his head, and it somehow made the sight even more beautiful. A single imperfection that would fade in time, but it was here now, and it was his making.

He followed the tense muscles down, brushing his lips against the skin and made a few more of those beautiful marks. Funny, how he used to think of them as rather infantile and a show-off. Leaving bruises was something teens did, teens with low self-esteem and a need to mark their territories. Now, he found he could appreciate them as simple signs of lust, intimacy, and acceptance. He'd never wanted to advertise such traits in him, but Hisoka seemed to demand it. He was a screaming sign of full attention and affection, and yet he never asked for any of those. Tatsumi was compelled not by words, nor pleading looks, but the simple possibility of receiving a gentle smile, a kind word, and the complete loyalty he knew was within reach.

The need to repay this loyalty also came from within. Tatsumi was not one to offer anything for free. His reward would be precious all the same.

As his tongue flicked over a pink, stiffening nub, the familiar tingle of waking arousal pulled on him too. Experimentally, he rubbed against Hisoka, and was rewarded by a warm feeling spreading from his centre.

Hisoka squirmed and writhed under him. The movements fuelled Tatsumi's desire to bring pleasure, to the point where he was almost aching to make his lover scream, plead, pass out from sheer bliss.

That's when he had an idea. Continuing the rubbing, he sat up, unbuttoning his dishevelled shirt. Hisoka's hungry eyes followed him, eating up the toned chest with his gaze. Tatsumi smirked; it was good to be desired. The stare convinced him to go slower, wringing out every possible glimmer of longing out of the striking, darkened green eyes.

After getting rid of his shirt, Tatsumi slid over the bed, retrieved another condom and some lube and sat over Hisoka's hips.

"Hisoka… Have you ever… on top?" Tatsumi gestured to the condom. Amazingly enough, Hisoka seemed to understand the question without further explanation.

"Aa, no… He'd never let me…"

Tatsumi silenced any further comments with his finger pressing against his lips. "Then, it's about time, don't you think?"

Blush, averting of eyes. "If you say so."

Smiling, Tatsumi ripped the wrapping and backed away. He ran his fingers appraisingly against the erection. Not too big, not that tiny either. Just sufficient for him to take in without tedious, lengthy preparations. He smiled wide. It had been a while from the last time too.

Carefully, he rolled the rubber on and dropped a tiny splotch of lube on top. Perfect.

Hisoka was looking at him incredulously, like wondering if he were serious about this. The expression of disbelief was so very endearing, but nonetheless Tatsumi had to lean down and wipe the hesitation away. The kiss they shared was anything but timid. Hisoka held no reservations there, and Tatsumi was almost blown away by the sheer force of it. Gathering his wits halfway through, he positioned over the jutting erection. Helping with his hand, he sank down, biting on Hisoka's lip for relief from the burning itch.

He pulled back when he heard a pained moan. Hisoka was twitching, his face contorted. It wasn't pain after all, Tatsumi concluded, and it made his insides jump in delight. He pressed further down, and another moan was drawn out. Hisoka's fist curled and flung to his mouth, teeth biting down in effort of not making noise. Tatsumi removed the hand, kissing the knuckles.

"Give me your pleasure now," he whispered. Hisoka looked at him through his lashes. The message was understood.

Gradually, Tatsumi began to slide up and down the lithe body. Riding his lover felt extremely good, not uncomfortable like it had been with previous partners. Come to think of it, had he ever submitted this willingly, even instigated this?

Hisoka licked his lips; how come they seemed to dry so fast today? This was so different from everything else, this was uncomfortable, this was odd. This was also very, very exciting. Everything was tight around him, suffocating, overpowering.

He wanted more.

"Harder… crush me," Hisoka pleaded, clutching onto Tatsumi's arms, then shoulders, and pulling down.

Not fazed by that, Tatsumi let his whole weight rest on Hisoka. "Like this?" he rasped near his ear, rolling his hips slightly just for good measure.

That had the desired effect. A gasp, followed by a weak affirmative "Y- yeah," and a quick thrust up. Tatsumi countered immediately, pushing his bottom down, taking him deeper than before.

"You feel… so good," Tatsumi growled. He proved his point by slamming down harder, his mouth busy suckling on a shoulder.

Hisoka tossed his head back. His feet scraped the mattress, raising his hips and changing their angle. Losing the tiniest bits of hesitation left, he glided his hands down Tatsumi's back. When he reached the bottom, his hold tightened, and he began to guide the rhythm and depth with determination.

Tatsumi complied, speeding up their dance. Hisoka's resolve was something Tatsumi always admired; even a dire disadvantage never stopped him from trying to overcome and take control. That was worthy of Tatsumi's respect, and maybe a little lick to the jaw line.

Another soft moan escaped Hisoka's lips, and another jumpy push. He looked straight at Tatsumi, his voice rough and breathy: "Let me see you."

Silently, Tatsumi sat up. One hand traced down to his hard cock, the other lingered over Hisoka's neck. Carefully, he squeezed both. "Like that?"

"Love it," Hisoka answered, barely a whisper. His eyes raked Tatsumi's body, greedy and impatient. Dry lips parted, letting his tongue to moisten them again. "More."

Smirking, Tatsumi stroked with both hands, petting and constricting. He raised a bit, his hips suspended just over Hisoka's. "Move then."

A small nod, and Hisoka began pushing up, long strokes, in time with the hand on his neck. It pressed, quickened, tightened, but that wasn't why he was so tense. His eyes were glued on Tatsumi's hard length, squeezed and caressed similarly. Rigid, unforgiving… Hisoka began to struggle for breath, frantic but not alarmed. He might pass out soon, but that was no reason to stop…

Tatsumi's whole body tensed, then convulsed, as he came. White spots landed on Hisoka's neck and chest, the final drops settling on his abdomen. The hand still rubbing the neck was spreading it, smearing the pale, blue-spotted skin.

Hisoka's vision was blurring. His hips quivered, then every other part of him while his eyes rolled back and his lungs released a shrieking breath. No voice came out from his abused throat as he climaxed.

Shuddering still, Tatsumi leaned down. He caressed the ill-treated area gently, almost scared he'd made a mistake somewhere along the line. "Did I…"

A deep draw of breath, a shiver, and Hisoka opened his eyes. Turning to regard Tatsumi, calmly, he cleared his throat and answered: "Aa…no…" A blink. "Tatsumi… that was… unbelievable."

"It was? I hope in a good way then," Tatsumi grinned, relieved. Receiving a slow nod in reply, he asked: "How good?"

"Mm," Hisoka closed his eyes in contemplation. "So good… I almost passed out I guess."

Cautiously, Tatsumi detached and rolled to the side. "I wasn't too rough?" He kissed a random spot of salty skin, taking off the used condom and tying it on a knot.

"Unn."

Smile. Tatsumi flung the rubber somewhere near the night table to accompany the other one, and snuggled closer. "I hope you cooked something I can reheat."

Hisoka sneered. "Better; it's good even cold."

"Ah, that was rather thoughtful of you," Tatsumi feigned surprise. "Shall we?"

"I'm not really hungry now, you go on."

Tatsumi looked on as Hisoka let out a large yawn, then nodded. "A moment then."

Hisoka watched as Tatsumi got up, took his glasses from the table and walked off. The retreating back stirred an irrational fear in him, but he pointedly ignored it. Stupid associative dissonance, he concluded and stretched his tense body. He pulled the blankets over him, but soon caught himself comparing the cold comfort of a cloth to the warmth of human body, living and breathing beside him…

That's when Tatsumi stepped into the room, carrying a tray loaded with food. "If you won't come and eat, I decided to come and feed you instead," he greeted, wearing a smile Hisoka had learned the hard way to mean, 'don't-you-dare-to-argue-with-me'.

Dragging his body upright, Hisoka sighed, but couldn't stop the content little smile from spreading on his face. "You're such a worrier."

"Tsk, no buts young man," Tatsumi scolded playfully as he sat down and settled under the blanket. The tray was quickly set over their feet. A quick thank you, and Tatsumi plunged his chopsticks into the mix of rice and vegetables. He caught a prawn, and brought it to Hisoka's mouth. "Open up," he demanded.

Obeying, Hisoka took the prawn and chewed, slumping against Tatsumi's side.

Tatsumi paid no mind to that. He took some rice, ate it silently, and swallowed. Then he spoke again, in a soft purring voice: "And after this, I'm washing you, very thoroughly…"

That woke Hisoka from his half-slumber quite effectively. "Oh?" Absently he picked a bit of rice and soy with his fingers and fed it to Tatsumi's waiting mouth.

He was rewarded with a systematic cleanup, Tatsumi licking every finger meticulously. Catching all the tiniest grains, he withdrew. "I could lick you clean like that, every nook and cranny. You'd like that, right?" He towed closed, traced the corner of Hisoka's mouth with his tongue.

Meeting him halfway, Hisoka twisted his head to kiss properly. After a languid probing with his tongue, he retreated to answer: "Can't wait."

Smile. "Me neither."

Somehow, Tatsumi had the feeling he'd have no problem with little breaking and entering in the future.