Sex surprised Hisoka for a number of reasons.
For one thing, he hadn’t expected to have it that evening. They were sitting on his couch, Tsuzuki’s arm around him, fallen into a long, comfortable silence. Tsuzuki broke it. “I looked at a calendar... it’s been four months today.”
Since the fire, Hisoka thought. Since Kyoto. “Yeah.”
Tsuzuki’s arm tightened around his shoulders. “I’m glad you came after me, Hisoka.”
Hisoka watched their two loves twine around each other, filling in each other’s gaps. “I’d do it again if you ever tried anything that...” ‘Stupid’ was the word meant to end that sentence, but Tsuzuki’s suicide attempt hadn’t been careless nor unconsidered, and Hisoka knew it. He let the sentence fall unended.
Tsuzuki finished it with a kiss.
Hisoka opened his mouth gladly, welcoming. This was his favorite part of their evenings these last few weeks-- touch and taste, Tsuzuki in his mouth and in his mind, letting go of everything except feeling. Hisoka tilted his head, part of his mind calculating. He couldn’t push too hard, he thought, had to figure out exactly how far he could go this time before pulling back. He needs time, Hisoka reminded himself, his lips light on Tsuzuki’s. It’s only been a few months. I can’t make him go faster than... Tsuzuki drew back for a moment, his eyes contemplative. Then he put his arm around Hisoka’s back, pulling him to him, hard.
Hisoka’s eyes blinked open in surprise. Tsuzuki felt charged, like he’d just leapt into battle. Oh, Hisoka thought, he’s... oh. The excitement reverberated through Hisoka, blended into his own long desiring. He’s... he’s ready, then, Hisoka thought. Am I? He opened his mouth wider, hungry. I think... Tsuzuki’s lips gentle on his weren’t enough-- he wanted more, wanted to take him all in. His arms went around Tsuzuki’s strong shoulders, pulling him closer. Yes, he thought. Now. Finally. Yes.
Hisoka panted against Tsuzuki’s mouth, feeling Tsuzuki’s muscles through his shirt. All right, he thought, holding tight, trying not to feel overwhelmed. Mouth, arms, chest, hip, hands-- he kept losing track of his body parts. There were too many points of contact, too many sensations, and the physical ones were only half of it. Tsuzuki’s satisfaction was warm on his lips, around his shoulders, need and thrill blending into the touch. His gladness and anticipation rose through Hisoka, and Hisoka followed Tsuzuki’s feelings, his best guide through all of this. You know what you’re doing here, he thought. Show me...
His hand clenched in Tsuzuki’s hair. That should have felt strange but Hisoka didn’t fight it-- it was so exactly what he needed, what Tsuzuki needed. It felt right. Nothing had ever felt this right. Tsuzuki, he thought, meaning love and lust and how precisely right it was to be doing this with him, demon scars and puppy-appetite and all. Appetite-- he thought Tsuzuki was starving for him, still not taking all he wanted. He wants to feel me here, Hisoka thought, his lips following where he could feel the skin needed to be touched-- into the cleft of Tsuzuki’s neck, where his life beat hot and speeding. Tsuzuki moaned encouragement, and Hisoka felt Tsuzuki’s throat move against his lips, felt the moan surprise him with its volume-- Tsuzuki’s surprise, but what difference does it make? I never knew, Hisoka thought, licking at the strong line of Tsuzuki’s neck, feeling cool air hit wet skin, that I could like the empathy. But then, there was never anyone I wanted to feel before. Never anyone I ever wanted to have inside me...
He whimpered with Tsuzuki’s pleasure as he unbuttoned his partner’s shirt to get at his collarbone, loving the hot smooth skin against his lips, tasting Tsuzuki’s sweat. He wants me close, Hisoka thought, Tsuzuki’s hands running through his hair, over his back, under his shirt, Tsuzuki’s tongue on his ear and that would be a ridiculous thing to do, but caring about the awkwardness seemed to be in another universe from this. Closer, he thought, I want him closer, I want to feel his weight on me. That wasn’t Hisoka’s feeling, he didn’t think. It was an odd want. But the oddness mattered so much less than the wanting.
It took a moment’s fumbling to flip over on the couch so he was sitting on Tsuzuki’s lap, face to face, bodies pressed together. Tsuzuki’s wide eyes met his and they were beautiful, crystalline depths so alive and so present and so very aware that Hisoka’s ... (penis, he thought, blushing, call it by its right name, but that word seemed so... beside the point. This wasn’t about textbook diagrams or bathroom walls or hissed insults. It was about them, and about now, and about how he could feel Tsuzuki, hard through four layers of cloth, could feel Tsuzuki feel him)... that Hisoka was hard against him, wanting him. It should be embarrassing, but Tsuzuki smiled and held him close and embarrassment fled in the face of the need to move against him, just right, to feel his thighs tense between Hisoka’s, to hear him pant and moan endearments, to feel their bodies meeting, movements jerkily off-kilter from each other as they struggled to find each other’s rhythm. Hisoka should have been embarrassed to hear himself whimper like this, should have been too self-possessed to be beating himself against his partner’s lap, but these were Tsuzuki’s hands on his hips just right pulling him closer and harder and that was Tsuzuki’s shirt his hands were clenching fists in as his body twisted without his command and that was Tsuzuki’s sweat against his cheek against his neck and that was Tsuzuki’s arousal growing stronger and stronger with every thrust and every moan, but that was Hisoka’s shout starting at his core and echoing through every inch of his body when he came.
Hisoka collapsed, panting, his body molded to Tsuzuki’s. That’s... he thought. We didn’t even take our clothes off. But that’s...
“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki whispered.
Hisoka raised his heavy head and grinned at him, and Tsuzuki almost came just from the sight of it. Never saw him look like that, Hisoka caught, close enough now to hear his partner’s feelings almost in words, never knew he could look like that-- so beautiful. Hisoka... Hisoka leaned in to kiss him, less urgently, just for the sheer pleasure of the fact that he could. It felt so good. So much better than doing this on his own. He hadn’t realized he could feel this good. He half-laughed against Tsuzuki’s mouth from sheer amazement, and Tsuzuki’s arms went tight around him, and Tsuzuki was so tremblingly glad he could burst with it. He’s never felt this good, Hisoka thought, not in all the time I’ve known him. No memories, no fears-- he’s just here with me.
“That okay?” Tsuzuki murmured, feeling happily sure of the answer, but asking anyway. Hisoka nodded, not trusting his control over his voice. More than okay, he thought. Much more. He felt a twinge underneath him. But it’s not over yet...
Hisoka lay against Tsuzuki for a moment, considering the mechanics of it. Then he slipped off the couch to kneel on the floor between Tsuzuki’s legs. From here, he could feel Tsuzuki’s arousal almost through the air, and his grin melted into a small, fascinated smile. He unfastened Tsuzuki’s belt and leaned in.
Tsuzuki started. “Hisoka...?”
”What?” Hisoka’s research had been fairly extensive over the last several months, and he thought he had a relatively clear idea of how this worked. It’s easy if you just read the directions, he thought, pulling Tsuzuki’s zipper down, and keep a clear head. He winced, though, at the sight of Tsuzuki’s... penis, thick and solid and inches from his face. That was... his mind stayed mercifully free of sudden memories, but the chill that always came with them made him shiver. This isn’t safe, he heard himself thinking, getting this close. It’s dangerous, he could do anything...
“Hisoka,” Tsuzuki said, gently. “You don’t have to do that.”
Hisoka shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I want to.” Maybe if he closed his eyes...
Tsuzuki put a hand on his shoulder, brought his head up. “But I want to kiss you.”
Oh, Hisoka thought, with more relief than he cared to admit. Well. All right, then. He put a hand on the couch to clamber up, arriving next to Tsuzuki with an undignified thump. It didn’t matter much. Wanting... there was so much wanting in the air, his and Tsuzuki’s, and this was far too long to go without touching him. He leaned in to take Tsuzuki’s mouth again, fiercely, thinking, you don’t have to coddle me, you know. I want this. I want you. Tsuzuki closed his eyes, air cool on his exposed skin, waiting, aching for him. I could do something about that, Hisoka thought. He rested his hand on Tsuzuki’s thigh, feeling hard muscle tense through the wrinkled cloth, seeing Tsuzuki pulse toward the touch. I can touch him there, Hisoka thought. I can barely stand not to-- I want. Hisoka skimmed his hand along Tsuzuki’s thigh and reached out to curve his fingers around him.
They whimpered at the contact and Hisoka was lost between the hot, smooth weight he held and the brilliant sensation of being held by his own hand. “Yes,” Tsuzuki murmured, “please,” but Hisoka didn’t need to be asked, he could feel how urgent it was to move. Not the light touch he usually started out with for himself, either, he wanted a harder, faster motion. Or Tsuzuki did, but he couldn’t tell them apart any more and didn’t want to. Hisoka ducked his head to spit on his hand, feeling awkward about it until he realized that Tsuzuki loved the sight, the sound, the faint smell. Tsuzuki’s arm was around his shoulders, but they weren’t kissing, weren’t touching at all otherwise-- just that one point of contact where Hisoka reached out for him again, felt him sliding slick across his palm, fingers tensing around him.
Good, Hisoka felt, not perfect, but good, so good, and he had been missing this feeling for so long... Half a memory flashed through his mind, someone else’s hand, strong and sure on him, welcomed, loved, but with so much regret in the touch... Hisoka frowned, not liking the intrusion. Me, he thought. You’re with me. Not anyone else. He kissed Tsuzuki again, Tsuzuki panting for breath around his lips. His tongue thrust deep into Tsuzuki’s mouth, as Tsuzuki was getting harder in his hand, softness giving way to solidity. Tsuzuki’s arm tightened around his shoulder, fist clenching in his shirt, and there was control, there, Hisoka could still feel it, a reluctance to move too quickly, to do anything that might scare him.
The hell with that, Hisoka thought, and tightened his grip, bringing his other hand over to flick across Tsuzuki’s crown, hands moving together to surround him, overwhelm him. Tsuzuki gasped, Hisoka moving with him, having trouble coordinating his movements, but when he got it right, he got it so right, so good. There was the oddest contrast between what Tsuzuki looked like outside, surrounded by Hisoka’s fingers, and how he felt inside. Inside was bigger, inside he felt big as Meifu, like he was all that existed and every different place along his length was distinct and desiring. His orgasm had a physical location, there, he could feel it starting to grow and grow strong. Interesting, Hisoka thought, but he was losing track of his thoughts. He was surrounded by pleasure, drawn in, he had to move faster, harder, he needed this. “Yes,” Tsuzuki panted, eyes shut tight, “like that, Hisoka, please...”
Hisoka panted satisfaction. Tsuzuki wasn’t being careful now. He moved faster. Hard again, Hisoka realized, he was hard, too, was panting as loudly as Tsuzuki, thrusting against empty air, empathy reverberating between them, and he could feel his fingers on Tsuzuki as on himself. Need, he needed this, needed to tense, to moan, to swear delight and desperation. Every twist of Hisoka’s fingers and movement of his wrists took him farther from language, farther from himself, until he was only his body, only his heart, only his voice crying out, only the sheer physical rejoicing of this motion. So grateful, so glad, so good to be with him now.
Tsuzuki’s hand clenched on his shoulder to communicate that he’d found just the right movement, but Hisoka had known that already and could no more have stopped moving than stopped breathing. Which he might have done, he wouldn’t notice, all he knew was this driving urge for completion. His hands were moving unerringly, now, he could feel them around himself, Tsuzuki’s head thrown back, hand digging into the couch. “I’m going to...” Tsuzuki gasped, and Hisoka knew it, could feel it, chased it down. Tsuzuki was rocking off the couch, into his hands, into his mind, and he’d lost track of his own body, lost track of the idea of bodies at all. “Now,” someone panted, “now,” and Tsuzuki cried out, lost and freed. He spilled over Hisoka’s hands, spurting again and again, and it blended with Hisoka’s own last explosive thrust against the air, messy and sticky and right, peripheral to the sheer pleasure of release. That’s it, Hisoka thought, holding on through the last few spurts and collapsing bonelessly against Tsuzuki’s shoulder, that’s it, that’s exactly it... His last thought was a wordless mmmmmmm reverberating between the two of them, perfectly right.
Hisoka didn’t notice losing consciousness, but he couldn’t have been out long. His first thought was that he was still holding Tsuzuki loosely in his fist, and hadn’t he read somewhere that the ancient Hebrews used to grab each other’s inner thighs when they swore, to show trust? Like this. Trust-- he could trust him, could trust him with all of this, as Tsuzuki could trust him to take him in his hand and treat him tenderly. He felt so good, Hisoka thought. He’s never felt that good, not in all the time I’ve known him. But now he does-- because of what we did together. This is the best thing I have ever done, Hisoka thought. Making him feel like that. I have never done anything as worthwhile as that. I made him happy.
Hisoka sighed, drifting in Tsuzuki’s emotions, and that was where he got his greatest shock of the evening. Tsuzuki was looking down at him, stroking his hair gently, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Tsuzuki thought they were happy tears, release and relief and comfort at long last. Tsuzuki thought he was happy. And so Tsuzuki was holding onto this happiness with every fiber of his will, determined to enjoy it to the fullest before it was taken away.
Taken away? Hisoka wondered, unnerved. I’m not going anywhere. “Tsuzuki,” he whispered, and the hand on his hair paused. “I want to stay with you. I want to always stay with you.”
“I love you,” Tsuzuki whispered, which wasn’t an answer. Tsuzuki couldn’t bring himself to say always back, because none of his always’ ever lasted-- except that he would always, after each promise made to him, be alone again. That one stayed.
The next to last thing that surprised Hisoka about sex that evening was how it changed him, how he felt reborn, made anew, his purpose revised and clarified.
The last thing that surprised Hisoka about sex that evening was how, for Tsuzuki, it didn’t seem to change anything at all.