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Slow down so I can pick you up

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“So, how many times do I have to walk around you before your walls come tumbling down?”

Chrollo looked up from his book, confused. “Excuse me?” he asked, marking the place in his book.

Hisoka grinned and cocked a hip. “You know, I’m pretty sure you’re the reason God made erections,” he delivered with a shuffle of his cards. He licked his lips as Chrollo’s book fell to the floor, drawing the attention of every single spider in the room.

“Ex….cuse me?!” Chrollo repeated, voice cracking in his shock.

Machi and Phinks shared a look and made as if to come over. Hisoka chuckled and ducked down to Chrollo’s level. His eyes were wide, confused, and above all uncomfortable and Hisoka could barely contain himself. “Do you like pudding, Danchou?”

Chrollo backed away from Hisoka’s looming figure, obviously thrown. He met eyes with Machi across the room for a second before looking up at the magician. “Uh….yes? Why do you ask?” He tried to be discreet about reaching for his nen book. He had no idea what was happening right now. With Hisoka involved, he wasn’t keen on taking chances.

The cards shuffled in clever hands and Hisoka pressed a quick kiss to a stunned Chrollo’s cheek.

“Because I’ll be puddin’ this cock in you later.”

The other spiders definitely heard that line and Hisoka was sprinting out of the hide out before Chrollo could gather himself, at least half of the troupe chasing after him with an assortment of weapons and swears in hand.

Chrollo sat there on his reading slab, his book at his feet. His cheeks were burning and he tried to tell himself it was from embarrassment as he picked up the dusty tome.


Illumi ran the comb through his hair and pointedly ignored Hisoka lounging on his bed behind him. The man’s legs were spread wide, his yellow eyes a physical weight on his form. Disgusting.

“You know, your hair would look so much better in my lap,” Hisoka called out from his position on the bed. He could see Hisoka lick his lips in the mirror.

“I don’t trust you to comb it properly, Hisoka.” Illumi ran the comb through a few more times before deeming it adequate. “That pink mess you display like a peacock does not give me any confidence in your ability to maintain hair.”

If Hisoka was hurt by that, he certainly didn’t show it. He stretched languidly and smiled at Illumi as he turned towards his closet. “What takes longer, you getting in those pants or me getting them off?”

Illumi looked down at his trousers, confused. They weren’t particularly tight or made of a fabric that constricted. “I don’t understand the question. These pants aren’t particularly difficult in either sense. I don’t understand why you would care either way?” He decided to ignore it and he walked into his closet, pulling down outfits to pack into the waiting bag.

Hisoka, somewhat cowed but not beaten, moved off the bed to lean against the doorframe, watching Illumi’s hands dance along the fabric.

“Want to know the difference between a Ferrari and an erection?” Hisoka posed, eyes devouring the strong lines of Illumi’s figure. “I don’t have a Ferrari.”

“I have a Ferrari.”

Hisoka’s grin faltered. “What?” he asked as he moved around to face the assassin.

Illumi looked at the magician with his usual stare. “I have a Ferrari,” he replied blandly, picking out several pairs of flats from the shoe rack in the corner.

“Why have I never seen it?” Hisoka almost sounded offended. “I want to see it. Why do we take trains if you have a Ferrari?”

It was a close thing, but Illumi resisted the urge to grimace. “Because I don’t want you on the seats.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my father’s rule.” Illumi looked Hisoka up and down with a very judging eye before continuing. “Cheap whores aren’t allowed on the upholstery.”

Anything Hisoka might have had at the ready fizzled out and Illumi was pleased to finish packing his bag in silence. If Hisoka glared at the maids already stripping the bed he had lounged on, Illumi didn’t see it.


Killua tried to press himself further into the wall in an attempt to put some much needed space between himself and the pedophilic clown. Hisoka, completely undeterred, merely scooted closer, his muscular arm resting on the bench back devouring the inches between them. Claws digging into the cheap wood and hackles rising, Killua resisted the urge to electrocute everything within a twenty meter radius. Gon would be so mad if he got them kicked out of another gym.

“You are so beautiful that I’d marry your brother to get into your family,” Hisoka crooned into his ear, hot breath making his hair stand on end. “Though in my defense, there’s not much I wouldn’t do to bag me a Zoldyck.”

Killua practically hissed, abandoning any attempt at simply shifting away. He swung himself around and put his feet against Hisoka’s thigh, kicking at him. “Go suck my brother’s dick and leave me alone, idiot!” Every kick covered Hisoka’s white pants with more and more foot prints. It was grossly satisfying.

Hisoka just threw his thigh over Killua’s feet, trapping them beneath thick muscle. “How about something more fun? Let’s play carnival,” he began, tangling his fingers into Killua’s wild hair to make him look him in the eye. “You sit on my face and I’ll tell you how much you weigh.”

The noise Killua made almost rivaled the furious blush on his face. Hisoka’s free hand snatched the hand closest to him and pinned it to his chest. “What the fuck, Hisoka!” he nearly shouted as he looked around for Gon. Seeing him nowhere, Killua swallowed and resigned himself to drastic measures.

The man stroked his fingers through Killua’s hair and the grin on his face was positively ravenous. “That shirt’s very becoming on you. If I were on you, I’d definitely be coming too.”

Face now pale, Killua pulled out his phone and hit a number on his speed dial. Hisoka didn’t seem inclined to stop him. He watched, pleasantly amused, and let his fingers scrape the sensitive skin along Killua’s neck.

“Hey, Aniki? I need you here. Now.”

Hisoka almost dug his nails into the thin throat in surprise. He never would have guessed Killua would ever call Illumi for help. “Is that Illumi?” he asked, pouring on the lascivious tone. “Is he coming? Let him know he should wait his turn. Unless he’d like to join us. I’m more than willing to share.”

Killua made a valiant effort at not flinching. “It’s Hisok—” he began, only to hear the dial tone chirp ominously at him from the speaker. Hisoka could certainly hear it too and his smile was positively salacious.

“Aw, did big brother hang up? Don’t worry, Killua. We can have plenty of fun by ourselves.” He grabbed Killua’s free hand and the phone went flying under, ending up somewhere beneath a chair.

Killua struggled against the grip and readied himself to bite anything that came towards him. He was just about to head butt that smiling face when he felt the unmistakable pressure of Illumi’s bloodlust flowing right behind him.

“I will kill you Hisoka.” The voice was cold as ice and Killua prayed he wasn’t going to regret calling him for help.

Hisoka didn’t seem very threatened, but he did release Killua’s hands. He didn’t take his hand out of Killua’s hair though. “Pleasure to see you here, Illumi. The fun’s just starting. Killua is so very, very cute after all,” he said breezily, petting Killua like a cat.

Killua kicked futilely, trying to free his legs from the clown’s deceptively heavy thigh. He froze when a row of pins sank into the bench, framing their legs.

“You have one second, Hisoka.”

Hisoka looked intrigued, almost tempted, but Killua still found his legs freed and himself on the floor before Illumi felt the need to act on his promise. Hisoka whined in disappointment but made no move to grab him again, instead settling for staring at his ass as he tried to collect himself from the floor. Killua looked between the two of them, Illumi still furious and oozing bloodlust, Hisoka relaxed and moping like a child deprived of candy. The rest of the gym had taken the hint and emptied the moment they felt the aura swelling.

He was so relieved that when Illumi held out a hand to him, he took it and let his brother help him upright before he sprinted away at full speed to find Gon. There was no way he was ever letting Gon leave his side again.


Hisoka was so, so happy when he stumbled upon Gon in the lobby of Heaven’s Area. The boy was alone, so completely open and smiling and ready for his next fight. Hisoka had to hold back the moan when the boy caught sight of him, his smile turning hard and aggressive.

“I’d fuck you so hard you’d learn from it,” Hisoka crooned instead of a greeting, and Gon’s eyes lit up in surprise.

“Hi to you too, Hisoka. Are you going to fight soon?” the boy asked, smacking his fist into his palm in excitement. “I’m going to win next time we fight, you can count on that!”

Hisoka sighed, completely loving the idea of Gon beaten and bloody and still so ready to fight. “That sounds lovely, but I’d much rather beat your tongue up with my tongue right now. Why wait for the arena to open up? My room is just upstairs.”

Gon cocked his head with a thoughtful look on his face. Hisoka almost thought he was considering it, for one blessed moment, before a brilliant grin lit up over the boy’s face. "Oh, I love pick-up lines!” Gon beamed.

“Do you now?” Hisoka asked, intrigued. He was glad that they were off to the side. It wouldn’t do for someone they knew to see them and interrupt. Not when this conversation just got so very interesting.

Gon nodded, hands on his hips. “They’re so much fun! Can I try some on you now?” he asked.

There was nothing fake about Hisoka’s smile. “Certainly. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The boy bit his lip and held his chin as the thought, brightening up a moment later in epiphany. “Okay, I’ve got one! You really shouldn’t wear make-up. Wanna know why?” he asked, leaning forward in eagerness.

Hisoka tried to not smile. “Why shouldn’t I wear make-up?”

“Because you’re messing with perfection, Hisoka!”

It only took a moment for Hisoka to realize he was blushing.

Gon seemed to take that as the go ahead for more. Hisoka didn’t know if he could handle more without eating the boy up, right in the middle of the lobby.

“Will you help me find my lost puppy? I think he went into that motel across the street,” Gon said suavely, looking up at Hisoka through his eyelashes.

It was like a freight truck had hit him. The boy had perfect delivery, as if he was an old hand at seducing people left and right with lines that by all means should have been cheesy at best, creepy at worst.

“Goodness me, Gon,” Hisoka declared. “Where on earth did you learn to be so charming? Were you in Boy Scouts? Because you’ve tied my heart in a knot.”

Gon blushed and looked away, embarrassed. Hisoka bit his lip and tried to resist the urge to snatch him up.
“That was really good, Hisoka! Give me a second,” Gon complimented as he racked his brain. It was adorable, his face scrunching up in concentration as he kicked at the ground. Hisoka could pinpoint the second the boy had thought of something and he smiled encouragingly, so ready for whatever sweet little line the boy had up his sleeve.

“Got it!” Gon declared, the lightbulb practically visible above his head. He fixed himself to stand straight, hands on his hips and chin raised like a challenge. His voice dropped an octave and his posture turned painfully dominant and Hisoka was not prepared.

“I’m going to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane until you scream for disaster relief.”

Hisoka stared down at the dominant little Gon and gaped. In a matter of seconds, Gon was laughing, all traces of the raunchy little boy gone in a flash.

He wiped an errant tear from his eye and looked up at a frozen Hisoka. “Man I really love those. The ladies on Whale Island taught me a lot of tricks like that. Thanks for letting me practice on you, Hisoka! We should do this again sometime!” Gon shot him a sweet as sugar smile and a thumbs up before running off to the elevators, no doubt heading back up to his room to find Killua.

Hisoka could only raise his hand in a wave and watch the small green boy race off, short shorts flouncing with every step.

oOo Omake oOo

Ging was covered in dirt, at least up to his ankles in the soft gritty soil as he painstakingly excavated the pottery shards. He had been pouring over this burial site for a good three months, had spent twice the long getting the permits and dig rights settled just to allow him to be within a mile of the pit, and it was finally yielding results.
He pulled out his dusting brushes and carefully cleaned the dirt off the priceless artifact. The beautifully intricate design came into view and Ging felt his heart beat. This is what the work was for, this wonderfully preserved specimen of a culture long dead.

A throat cleared directly behind him and he fumbled the shards, nearly dropping them. He turned around, pissed, and found some sort of color-challenged clown lounging behind him with a grin on his face and a cellphone in his hand.

“Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?” Ging snapped, gathering up the shards and wrapping them protectively in the fabric of his travel scarf.

The clown hummed and tapped something out on his touch screen before answering. “I’m in need of an archeologist.”

Ging frowned, gathering up his tools and turning to look at the lounging man. “Then apply for my time on the Hunter’s Website. I don’t have time to freelance for any dumbass with a license.”

Yellow eyes blinked at him slowly and he smiled. “But I have a bone that’s in desperate need of excavation. I don’t think it can wait.”

It took a moment, maybe two, but Ging realized what was happening. He looked the man up and down, taking his time judging what was before him.

“Seriously?” he asked, setting the equipment to the side before climbing out of the hole.

“Why ever would I joke about such a serious matter?” The clown remarked, an attractive smirk on his face.
Ging waited a beat and then shrugged, pulling off his dirt covered shirt. “What the hell, I can kill ten minutes,” he said with a chuckle.

The man gave him a once over, laughed, and snapped a picture with his phone. Ging stood there, confused.

“Oh my, it’s that easy?” the man remarked as he stood up and brushed his clothes off. “I’m going to show your son how easy you are. I wonder, does it run in the family?” The look on his face was practically screaming how much he hoped the answer was yes.

Ging crossed his arms and frowned. “Really? You came all the way out to the middle of nowhere to take a picture of me? I can’t believe Gon surrounds himself with such weak-willed friends.”

“Oh let me assure you, dear Gon and I are wonderful together. You have no idea how much I’ve touched that child. But with that said,” the man snapped another photo and chuckled. “You’re such trash that not even I would take you out.” With one last smile and a wave of his fingers, Hisoka set off, leaving Ging to stand in his dirt pit shirtless.

Ging watched as he flitted off, a bit annoyed that he couldn’t even land a goddamn clown. Oh well. He always had the dirt and the treasures it hid.

It wouldn’t do for him to knock someone else up anyway.