Work Text:
Illumi came back to Hisoka’s Heaven’s Arena apartment he occasionally stayed at, the whole space bathed in darkness despite it being a bright and warm day. It was oddly quiet, something he definitely was not used to when it came to his partner. He usually came home from contracts to Hisoka waiting at the door to pounce on him.
It was somewhat strange, coming back to silence, no obnoxious boyfriend tackling him to the ground because he had missed him.
He hit the light switch, illuminating the living room in a bright light. He immediately heard a groan from the couch, a familiar shade of auburn poking out from a blanketed lump resting there.
“Turn the light off,”
Hisoka’s voice sounded nasally, and Illumi wondered if he had managed to get his nose broken during his last fight. He sadly had to miss it, the fight scheduled for last night and he had been gone for a week, a bit longer than he usually was gone. He had dealt with a bombardment of texts from his magician because of it, but he had known something was off once he hadn’t had any updates from him over the past twenty hours.
“Illu,” Hisoka whined from the couch. “I don’t feel good,”
“You don’t look good,” Illumi cocked his head to the side.
He wasn’t wrong. Hisoka looked almost like a completely different person since Illumi was so used to him always looking his best. He looked like he hadn’t moved from his spot bundled up on the couch all day, lips set in a deep frown. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked like he hadn’t slept well. He even had forgone makeup and doing his hair, which just from a brief glance Illumi could tell hadn’t been brushed.
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Hisoka sniffled, turning to pout at Illumi. “Chrollo got me sick,”
Oh, yeah. Illumi had forgotten that Hisoka had just been out chasing after Chrollo again. It was also a lot easier for him to do so, now that the thief had worked his way through the floors of Heaven’s Arena as if they were child’s play, which, to a specialist, it had been. Their apartments weren’t too far apart, only about half a floor away. If Illumi remembered correctly, Chrollo was almost matched with Hisoka in wins, and would soon be able to challenge a floormaster for that title.
“How’d he manage that?”
“He kept coughing on me during our spar yesterday. Machi said he was getting over a nasty bout of the flu, so he must have decided to try passing it on to me to make me miserable. Well, it worked. I may kill him the next time I see him,”
“That will be a fight to see,”
“Illumi, I’m positively miserable,” Hisoka griped, patting the spot next to him. “Chrollo got me sick, you were gone, and Machi abandoned me in my time of need. Me! Her best friend!”
Illumi snorted. Machi would rather pull her own teeth out one by one than say Hisoka was her best friend, but of course Hisoka hadn’t noticed that she only agreed to spend time with him because he paid for everything whenever they went out.
“Make me feel better?”
“My nen has no healing properties. Suffer,”
“You’re awful! You don’t love me!”
“Tragic. You caught me,”
“You’re awful,” Hisoka repeated. “I’m on my deathbed and you’re bullying me,”
“You seem fine enough to me if you’re complaining,”
“Illumi,”
“You’re not dying,” Illumi rolled his eyes. Hisoka was always overdramatic whenever he got so much as a sneeze. “Chrollo didn’t give you the plague. If he did, I’d have to put you down,”
“You might have to do that anyway,” Hisoka buried his face in his hands. “Would you avenge my death?”
“Only after your life insurance check deposits,”
Hisoka let out a small laugh.
“Of course you would, dear,” he said. “My head hurts,”
“Did you take anything for it?”
“No,”
“Do you have any medicine here for it?”
“No,”
“Well, damn. I suppose I have to go out,” Illumi said. “I’ll be back,”
“But you just got back,” Hisoka whined. “I want to cuddle with you,”
“I’m not ‘cuddling’ you,” Illumi scowled. “You’re sick. Hisoka, you’re acting pathetic. It’s just a cold. You will survive,”
“You better hope I do, because those are fighting words,”
“Can you manage to not keel over on me if I go out?”
“I can try,”
Illumi fought the urge to sigh at how ridiculous Hisoka was acting, instead turning to leave.
He hadn’t taken care of anyone that was sick in a while, not since Killua was about four. He didn’t mind that it was Hisoka he would be having to take care of, since they were together, but as he entered the elevator to head down to the ground floor, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to be easy.
It’s Hisoka. Nothing is ever easy with him.
Illumi had just gotten home from a contract, exhausted from being up for the past three days straight. He had barely had enough energy to keep himself upright in the shower as he washed off the blood and grime from the job, his only desire to slip into bed and sleep for the next week. It was wishful thinking, since he knew within the next day or so he would have another contract and would have to leave home once again.
Sluggishly, he ran a comb through his hair after he dressed in comfortable pajamas, eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror. When had his hair started growing out? He remembered getting it cut a month ago, but it was already falling past his ears, hanging loosely a little past his jawline.
It didn’t look terrible. Maybe he would grow it out.
Setting the comb down, he made his way to his bed. Thankfully, the butlers hadn’t remade his bed, knowing that he preferred sleeping amongst a nest of blankets rather than stiff sheets pulled tight to the ends. Something about sleeping in a mess of fabrics seemed comforting, the weight nice enough to usually lure him to sleep within minutes.
Silence and darkness filled the room as he nestled into bed, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep.
Within ten minutes, however, it didn’t take an assassin’s trained ear to hear the shuffle of tiny footsteps heading towards his room, stopping right outside the door.
Illumi shifted to sit up. He swore, if it was Alluka wanting to make some sort of ridiculous request-
“Illumi,” Killua whined, pushing open the door. “My tummy hurts,”
“Did you eat too much candy?” Illumi asked, knowing Killua’s penchant for eating what seemed to be pounds of sweets before bed. “I told you, sugar makes your stomach-”
He was cut off to the sound of retching, something hitting his bedroom floor with a splash.
There was a beat of silence.
“Illumi?”
“Yeah, Kil?”
“I threw up,”
Illumi sighed, forcing himself out of bed to go to Killua. He definitely would have a butler clean his room later. His heart broke at the little sniffles he heard as Killua began to cry at the pain in his stomach.
“It hurts, Illumi,”
“Come on,” Illumi balanced Killua on his hip, his little brother sniffling as he pressed his face into his shoulder. “Let’s go get you cleaned up,”
“Alluka’s sick, too, Illumi,”
“The butlers can-”
“I wanna be with Alluka!” Killua whined, using what little strength he had to try to push away from Illumi’s hold. “I want Alluka, Illumi!”
Illumi sighed, trying to keep a good hold on the wriggling four year old.
“Fine,” he reasoned. “We can take Alluka, too,”
Where are the butlers to help me? He thought, making his way down the hall to Alluka’s room. Tsubone was usually by Killua’s side in an instant and the butlers were relatively good at sensing when one of their masters needed assistance, so why weren’t there any around?
A small part of him knew that it was because most of the butlers hated him, but he also did get to help his siblings as their big brother, so he supposed it wasn’t terrible.
Opening the door to Alluka’s room, Illumi could hear a gross cough coming from the blanket bundle on the bed. He pulled back the covers, revealing the tear-stained face of his little sister.
“Illu-ni,” Alluka cried. “I don’t feel good,”
Illumi fought the urge to sigh as he knelt down to prop Alluka on his other hip, scowling once he felt her rub her snot and tear-stained face against his shirt.
It looked like he wasn’t getting much sleep tonight.
“I’m back,” Illumi announced, shutting the door behind him. “Hisoka?”
A groan came from the couch, his boyfriend almost exactly where he had left him. He hadn’t been gone long, only about a half hour, but the virulent look he received from Hisoka made it feel like he had been gone for hours.
“I got medicine,” Illumi raised the bag in his hand. “And ingredients to make soup,”
“Please tell me you’re making normal people soup and not some recipe your mother concocted,” Hisoka groaned. “Please don’t poison it,”
“I will make soup,” Illumi reiterated. He dug around the bag, taking out the bottle of cold medicine as well as the antivirals he picked up and setting them on the coffee table before him. “But first, you need to take something for your cold,”
“Can I take it after I eat whatever you’re going to make me?”
“I suppose,” Illumi shrugged, grabbing the grocery bag and heading off into the kitchen. “Go shower. It might help,”
Shortly after he began to prep the ingredients for the soup, he heard Hisoka trudge off towards the bathroom, the door slamming shut. Within a few minutes, he heard the sound of the shower running, and something in him felt a bit more at ease. Maybe the steam would help his congestion, and then when he was done, Illumi could make sure he took some medicine.
He remembered the recipe by heart, a simple soup Tsubone had reluctantly shown him after he had pestered her for it since it had been one of Killua’s favorites when he was little. Remembering Hisoka’s earlier comment, he snorted. His mother would never raise a finger to cook, but she would make sure things were poisoned to help raise their tolerance.
Speaking of his mother, he should call her soon to see how she was doing. Instead, there was someone he needed to call first.
After cutting all the ingredients for the recipe, Illumi set down the knife in favor of picking up his cellphone, pulling up his contacts and scrolling through until he found the number he needed.
The line picked up on the other end after three rings, phone balanced between his ear and shoulder as Illumi dropped the chopped vegetables into the simmering broth.
“Hello?”
“Chrollo, would you be so kind as to tell me why I just got home from a contract to find my fiancé believing that he’s knocking on death’s door because of a common cold you gave him?”
“Fiancé? When did that happen?”
“That’s not important,”
“Ah. It’s great to hear from you, Illumi. I was just-”
“Just answer my question,”
“He was the one who insisted on fighting. He knew I was sick, so it’s not my fault he was an idiot and dragged me out of bed and to the gym-,” Chrollo stopped himself to cough, Illumi pulling his phone from his ear. That definitely didn’t sound good. He hoped Hisoka didn’t develop a cough like that. “I’m trying to sleep, Illumi,”
“It’s four in the afternoon,”
“Time is nothing but a mere illusion,”
“My, you look quite domestic,” Hisoka’s voice drew his attention away from his phone. Illumi hung up, looking over his shoulder to see his partner fresh out of the shower, dressed in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. “I quite like this look on you,”
“Go get dressed. You’re dripping water everywhere,”
“Of course, love,”
Illumi hated that term of endearment, but the genuine look in Hisoka’s eyes as he said it made him hate it just a little less as he watched him turn to head off towards their bedroom.
Something behind him began to hiss, drawing his gaze the kettle on the stove. He busied himself with making tea, mind still stuck on memories from years ago.
A quick check to the basement showed that Milluki was not sick, just fast asleep and snoring amongst his pile of plushes. Illumi knew their father was out on a contract and wouldn’t be home in two days, which left his mother and Kalluto.
He stared at the large wooden double doors leading to his parent’s bedroom. The last time he had come here in the middle of the night when he was about two and a half. He had had a nightmare, and his father had all but tossed him out of the bedroom and locked the door behind him.
He didn’t want to knock, instead having Killua open the door for him and shouldering his way into the room.
“Mom?” he called out, hearing a soft groan from the bed.
The light flickered on, Kikyo blinking at him as her eyes adjusted to the lights.
“Illu? What’s wrong?” she asked, voice hoarse as she rubbed her blinded eye.
Even though he had known her all his life, Illumi still wanted to shudder at her eyes. It was rare, nowadays, that she was seen without her visor, but he had grown up with her forcing him to stare into her eyes, the left one blind. He remembered her telling the story with a softness in her tone about how she was one of the best assassins in Meteor City, and when she was tasked to kill his father, he had reacted so swiftly that she had immediately fallen in love despite the fact that he had blinded her in defense. His father usually grumbled about how he married her because she was the only one who had successfully managed to sneak up on him, and he was immensely impressed.
The “romantic” story still didn’t take away the fact that seeing his mother without her visor was a terrifying experience, even if he loved her.
“Kil and Alluka are sick,” he said. “And-”
“I’m sick too, Illumi!” she snapped. “Keep quiet! Kalluto is sleeping!”
Illumi wanted to point out that his mother shrieking was probably not good for Kalluto, the one year old tucked close to her side, drooling onto her shoulder.
“Can you help-”
“Oh, Illu,” her tone shifted to something sweet. “You’re such a good big brother, taking care of your little brothers and checking in on your mama. You’re such a good son,”
“Mommy,” Killua coughed.
Kikyo immediately got out of bed, holding Kalluto close as she padded over.
“My poor baby,” she cooed, cupping Killua’s cheek in her hand. “Do you want Illu-ni to take care of you?”
Killua nodded, sniffling.
“My tummy hurts, Mommy,” he whined.
“Go make him some tea or something,” she instructed Illumi. “I need to get my sleep so I can take care of Kalluto,”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Mom,” Illumi apologized.
“Don’t do it again-” Kikyo cut herself off with a coughing fit, turning and heading back to bed.
The light snapped off once she got back into bed, leaving Illumi to navigate back to the door in the dark.
Hisoka was burning up, and not in a good way.
His limbs felt like they had been made of lead, his head ached, and he was either freezing to the point where his teeth nearly chattered or he was so hot he felt as if he were on fire. It felt as if he had swallowed sandpaper, his throat swollen and raw from all the coughing he had been doing shortly before Illumi had gotten home. To top it off, he felt nauseous.
He wouldn’t wish something like this onto his worst enemy. He was half tempted to go storm down the hall and snap Chrollo’s neck, but only after he got some sleep.
The bed had been so cold without Illumi by his side, and he always had trouble sleeping when he was away on contracts. On top of spending most of the night hunched over the toilet throwing up his dinner, Hisoka hadn’t slept much, and he was exhausted.
“Are you expecting me to feed you?”
“Hm?” he was pulled from his thoughts to look at Illumi.
Illumi had his head cocked to the side, eyes staring intently at him.
“Your food is going cold,” Illumi gestured to the bowl of soup in front of Hisoka. “I made sure to leave the carrots out. I know you hate how they taste cooked,”
Illumi went back to eating his own bowl of soup, texting his siblings in their group chat.
Hisoka couldn’t help but stare at Illumi in awe. How he remembered that, he didn’t know, but he was suddenly hit with the realization that Illumi didn’t have to be there. Illumi could have just seen that he was sick and headed home and ignored him until he got better, but instead he was here by his side, making him food with his preferences in mind and taking care of him.
His eyes were watering, definitely because of the pressure in his sinuses and not because of the way he felt his heart swell with emotion.
“You do love me,” he vocalized his realization, already getting out of his seat. Illumi barely had a chance to look up from his phone before Hisoka wrapped his arms around him tightly.
“Of course I do,” Illumi stiffened in his embrace. “I would have gone home if I didn’t and let you suffer here. Now go eat your food,”
“Oh, Illu,” Hisoka peppered kisses along his cheek, nuzzling his cheek against his. “Have I ever told you how much I love-”
Hisoka stopped, his breath stuttering in his chest as he felt a tickle in his nose. Illumi knew that look, the scrunched up face right before a sneeze, he had seen it on his siblings many times when they were younger.
“I luh-” Illumi had just enough time to push Hisoka’s face away from his, his magician sneezing loudly in his ear.
“Love you,” Hisoka sniffled. “Sorry for sneezing on you, dear,”
Illumi looked ready to stab him, eyes narrowed dangerously. Hisoka realized Illumi was dangerously close to the knife block, resting on the counter almost directly behind him.
“You’re disgusting,” Illumi grimaced. “Eat your food. No declaration of love is going to get you out of taking your medicine now,”
Hisoka let out a laugh, nearly regretting it once it turned into a coughing fit. He was not too keen on being sick, but if he got to have Illumi by his side, he figured it wasn’t so terrible.
He picked up his spoon and began to eat, Illumi’s hand absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles in between his shoulder blades.
“Illu-dear?”
“Hm?”
“I love you,”
“Hm,”
“Not going to say it back?”
“Finish up so I can give you your medicine,”
It was close to five in the morning. Illumi had just gotten back home three and a half hours ago, yet here he was, struggling with his siblings. He had managed to get them bathed and dressed in clean pajamas, the two seated on the bathroom counter as he measured out cold medicine.
“Okay, Alluka, open your mouth,” he said.
Alluka shook her head, frowning.
“No,”
“Take the medicine,” he demanded, holding the spoon to Alluka’s lips as he leaned down to be level with her.
“No!” she shook her head as she leaned away from him. “It tastes yucky!”
“You need to take it if you want to feel better, so take it,” Illumi was already feeling frustrated. “Take the medicine,”
“No!” Alluka opened her mouth and Illumi shoved the spoon in.
He somehow thought that was a good idea, Alluka sputtering the medicine out and some getting onto his face. Alluka spat out the bitter liquid, trying to use the back of her sleeve to wipe her mouth.
“No, no,” Illumi grabbed a hand towel to wipe her face. “Don’t use your sleeve. It will be sticky,”
“That was so yucky, Illu-ni,” Alluka sobbed, shoulders shaking. “I don’t want it!”
Alluka’s crying fit turned into a coughing fit, not bothering to cover her mouth. Illumi grimaced, grabbing the medicine bottle again.
“You have to take it if you want to feel better,” Illumi said. “If you don’t take it, I’ll hold you down and force you to take it,”
“Illu, I want my medicine,” Killua interjected, leaning closer to Alluka. Illumi measured out the amount he would need, holding the spoon out for Killua. He watched his little brother take his medicine without making a face at the bitter taste.
He wasn’t expecting Killua to turn to Alluka.
“See? It’s not so bad,” he reassured her, and Illumi watched, somewhat awed, as Alluka actually took her medicine without spitting it out. “Can we watch TV together?”
“I suppose,”
“Hisoka,” Illumi felt bloodlust begin to threaten to break through the calm façade he had tried to keep up. “Take your medicine or I’ll force you to,”
“But it tastes so gross,” Hisoka pouted. “I hate cherry,”
Illumi fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“It all tastes nasty, Illu, regardless of flavor,” Hisoka complained. “I don’t want to take it. You can leave me here to die. I leave all my money to you in my will. Make sure Machi gets nothing,”
“I’m certain Machi doesn’t want any of your things,” Illumi deadpanned. “Take your medicine,”
“No-” the moment Hisoka opened his mouth to complain, Illumi shoved the spoon into his mouth and held it there until Hisoka reluctantly swallowed the syrup. He coughed in Illumi’s face, near tears at the foul tasting liquid.
“You get nothing now,” Hisoka cried. “I don’t want you to have a single jenny of my life insurance after that dirty trick,”
“I think this is the first time you’ve ever complained about something being forced down your throat,”
“Illumi!”
“That is my name, yes,”
“I’m leaving you,” Hisoka scowled as he nestled into bed, pulling the blankets up over him. “You’re so terrible,”
“Go to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up,”
“Will you be here?”
“I’ll be here,”
“Promise?”
“I suppose,”
“Pinky promise?”
Hisoka’s hand came up from the ball of blankets he had cocooned himself within, pinky extended.
Illumi, deciding it was easier to humor him, extended his pinky and wrapped it around Hisoka’s.
They ended up falling asleep on one of the couches, Killua’s favorite show playing quietly in the background as the two youngest siblings slept leaning against their eldest brother.
Illumi tried staying up as long as he could, worry nestled in his gut. Fraternal anxiety made him feel that if he let himself close his eyes for a brief nap, Killua would die, so here he was, forcing himself awake and watching the steady rise and fall of Killua’s chest.
Alluka had fallen asleep almost immediately after settling down, her head resting on Illumi’s leg while Killua lay sprawled across his lap, the medicine having kicked in and allowing for them to sleep.
Illumi was so focused on Killua that he didn’t notice his grandfather sneak up behind him.
“Illumi,”
Illumi startled, a hand going to protectively curl around Killua.
“Get some sleep. If I were trying to kill you, you’d be dead by now,” Zeno said. “And your siblings. Your reflexes are delayed when you deny yourself sleep. Take a nap,”
With that, Zeno left the room. Illumi looked back down at the still sleeping Killua, his brother holding onto his hand tightly in his sleep.
If he failed to protect him, he would fail as a brother. He would fail as a Zoldyck.
Killua won’t die in his sleep, he won’t die in his sleep. Illumi forced himself to think it over and over until he finally succumbed to sleep.
Illumi didn’t remember falling asleep last night, his last memory of the night prior having to hold back the loose strands of Hisoka’s hair while he threw up the soup he had made, his fiancé groaning about how he was going to die a pathetic death beside the cold porcelain of a toilet and not in the ecstatic throes of battle. He vaguely remembered telling Hisoka that maybe he was more suited for theater than the arena with how dramatic he was being.
He didn’t remember falling asleep in their bed, which he was trying to avoid in order to keep his distance from his sick magician. He must have been too tired to argue, and, knowing Hisoka, he had probably wanted to cuddle before going to sleep.
Hisoka was curled up to his side, snoring softly, still warm but looking significantly livelier than the night prior. He did tend to bounce back from being sick rather quickly, suffering for a day or so until he was as good as new.
Illumi couldn’t fight the smile that came naturally, a hand coming out to gently stroke Hisoka’s cheek. His heart nearly skipped a beat when Hisoka, thankfully deep in sleep, leaned into his palm. It was always so nice to see him free of makeup, a sight Illumi got to see more than most people, and it made him happy to know that Hisoka was willing to show him that side of himself often.
He felt exhausted from taking care of Hisoka almost nonstop since he had gotten back, but he wouldn’t complain too much if it meant he got to wake up beside the one person he genuinely cared for outside his family.
It was still early in the morning. He didn’t necessarily need to be up since he had the next two days off and wasn’t expected to be back home for his next contract until then.
Pulling the blankets up over them, he nestled back into the comfort of their bed and let sleep consume him.
Illumi woke up two days later in a cold sweat with a fever, his stomach churning every step he took. It felt like the mansion was freezing despite the summer sun shining outside, his teeth nearly chattering.
“Mom?” he called out as he walked through the halls, wrapping his cardigan around him tightly. “Mom?”
He followed the sounds of children laughing, Killua and Alluka playing in the den. His mother was holding Kalluto close, his father lounging as they discussed an upcoming contract now that he had just arrived home.
“Illu, thank you for taking care of your siblings! Look at them, they’re all better thanks to you!” she praised the moment he stood in the doorway. “Thanks to you, I got to rest and recover,”
“Mom, I think I’m sick,” Illumi said, watching the smile from her face fade.
“Well, get away from us then. I don’t want everyone getting sick again,” she dismissed him.
“Illumi, you’ve been commissioned to take out a senator in Swardani,” his father said. “Go pack your bags, you need to leave in a few hours,”
“I’m sick,”
“I don’t care. You have a job, go do it,”
Illumi’s head was pounding, and his chest ached as if two tons of pressure was being applied to his lungs. He felt that if he got up and moved too quickly, his stomach might rebel. His sinuses felt as if someone had stuffed them to the brim with cotton, and he felt as if he had taken an ice bath. He opened his eyes, immediately regretting it as he winced at the bright light coming in through the window.
He was suddenly also very aware of Hisoka sitting beside him on the bed, fully dressed to kill. He blinked a few more times to adjust to the light, feeling at ease at the sight of his fiancé. There was something oddly calming about seeing Hisoka dressed in his usual attire, hair and makeup done.
“Hisoka?”
“My poor Illumi,” Hisoka cooed, running his fingers through Illumi’s hair in careful strokes. “I can make you some tea, if you’d like,”
“I can do it,” Illumi protested, his voice sounding more like a croak than his actual voice. One of Hisoka’s hands came up to press him back into the bed by his shoulder.
“You’re not moving an inch unless you absolutely need to,” Hisoka said. “I feel awful for getting you sick, dear. Stay in bed, please,”
“But my contract-”
“I’ll take care of it for you,” Hisoka patted his cheek, his other hand holding up Illumi’s transmitter. “I’ll be quick, and then I can come right back here to take care of you,”
“I’m really not that sick. I can still go do my contract,”
“I can handle it, Illu-dear,”
“But you might get hurt,”
“Oh, you do care!” Hisoka teased, a manicured hand coming to lightly squeeze Illumi’s warm cheek. “I’ll be fine, Illu. I promise to be on my best behavior when speaking to your father,”
Illumi groaned at the sudden wave of nausea that came with the movement, letting his head hit back against the pillow, his hands coming up to cover his eyes.
“I love you~,” Hisoka’s sickly sweet tone filled his ears. “Get some sleep, dear. I’ll be home by the time you wake up, then it’s my turn to take care of you,”
Hisoka pressed a kiss to his forehead, brushing some of the loose ebony strands from his face.
“You will?”
“Oh, of course! In sickness and in health, right, my sweet Illu?”
Their engagement was strictly a business procedure, but it wasn’t terrible keeping Hisoka around, he supposed. While he annoyed Illumi more than anything, Illumi did have to admit that he did love him.
Despite how ill he felt, Illumi smiled.
“Right,”