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Illumi was feeling guilt for the first time in his life.
At least he was fairly certain it was guilt. All the books he’d read regarding the emotion seemed to match up with his symptoms. The stomach pains that felt lighter but more tangled than sorrow. The intrusive thoughts that seemed to loop back and feed themselves until it was all he could think about. The entire process seemed to be related to anxiety, he feeling he was more familiar with due to the rare failure to meet family expectations in his youth.
And the cause of it, it seemed to be, was Hisoka.
That bastard.
And it seemed to happen every time the man made him happy, which contrasted the guilt so sharply that it compounded the negative emotion exponentially. Illumi found himself unable to smile when Hisoka complimented his outfit of the day. He no longer relaxed when Hisoka braided his hair. And sex was just a little less pleasurable when his mind was clouded by anything other than ecstasy when Hisoka whispered praises into his ear.
The same books that helped him to identify his problem offered some solutions. Apologizing for the mistake that caused the guilt seemed to be the most common, though Illumi was at an utter loss as to what that could mean. He didn’t make mistakes.
Another common suggestion was to talk to someone about the guilt, usually a third party. Illumi might have been tempted if he had any other associates in his life. But other than his family, whom he had no intention of involving in this, there was no one but Hisoka.
Illumi was considering whether a random person off the streets would be able to help when Hisoka breezed into the living room. He pecked a quick kiss on Illumi’s forehead before settling down on the other side of the couch. He threw his feet across Illumi’s lap before picking up the remote to begin the ruse of channel surfing for something interesting before settling on Judge Jackie, his guilty pleasure every weekday at noon.
Meanwhile a soft ‘ah’ fell from Illumi’s lips as he reached a conclusion. He saw Hisoka tilt his eyes over to him, one eyebrow raising in concern. Illumi shook his head, indicating that his sound was nothing important, and watched Hisoka turn back to the tv.
It was lack of reciprocity.
It was impossible to keep track of all the compliments Hisoka had thrown at him, considering he’d been doing so long before they entered into a partnership. And the amount of small physical gestures was near in number as well. But Illumi could clearly remember each instance in which he had done the same to Hisoka. There was little point in telling Hisoka how beautiful or intelligent or charming or funny he was. He had to have already known, as confident as he was. The physical touches though. Perhaps Illumi could start doing that more?
He lifted Hisoka’s feet of his lap and shuffled up the couch so Hisoka’s calves were resting on him. Hisoka didn’t look away from the tv though until Illumi intertwined his left hand with his right. His eyebrows were raised a bit, but no smile, which was strange. Hisoka liked holding hands, he did it often enough when walking down the street and while having sex for Illumi to be certain of this. Maybe that was the problem. Illumi had yet to ever initiate it.
Illumi smiled, reassuring Hisoka there was no trick or impending attack despite what the strange behavior might have suggested. He looked over to the tv as Judge Jackie called both the defendant and prosecutor idiots for bringing their squabble to her courtroom. Illumi forced his shoulders to relax and tried to paint the outward picture of contentment, hoping Hisoka would catch on and settle as well.
The small smile he caught out of the corner of his eye signaled success and made his guilt disappear.
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But Illumi simply couldn’t keep up. There weren’t enough opportunities to display physical affection for him to remain equal to Hisoka. Every time he would identify an opening, the damned magician would exploit it before him! A kiss on cheek at breakfast. An arm over his shoulder on the couch. A caress against the small of his back in the shower. A nuzzle into his neck in bed.
A blatant repetition of the affection wouldn’t be enough, it was far too passive to indicate anything beyond politeness. And so Illumi found himself downtown, strolling down the streets in search of a gift to offer Hisoka.
The idea had come to him after sending Milluki his birthday present a week ago. Milluki wasn’t the only sibling he sent gifts to, though he was by far the simplest to remain in contact with now, and most often the knowledge that he’d made his siblings happy with an object made Illumi happy in turn. He expected the same with Hisoka and was determined to find something to suit the man’s tastes.
However, Illumi didn’t realize how complicated such a task would be until he’d reached the shops. Hisoka was surprisingly difficult to shop for as the man wasn’t particularly interested in things. Hisoka’s allotted shelves in their apartment had a constantly rotating selection of books, movies, and knick-knacks. A book he claimed to love would be tossed aside because “I already know how it ends”. A Rubik’s cubic he’d fiddled with all winter would be given away to the first child he met on the street who showed interest in the puzzle.
The only thing he seemed remotely attached to were clothes, but Illumi didn’t feel confident enough to try and assume to know Hisoka’s eclectic tastes. Two pairs of heels that looked the exact same sat in Hisoka’s closest because they were –apparently— so obviously suited to different occasions. Illumi proceeded to ignore every clothing store he passed.
Five hours later and all Illumi had to show for his efforts when he returned to the apartment were some grocery bags. And he would have had less than that if he hadn’t remembered how empty their fridge had been last night. He was in the middle of organizing the pantry when Hisoka sauntered into the kitchen and began rummaging directly through the bags.
“Oh~” he heard Hisoka croon behind him. Illumi glanced over his shoulder to see Hisoka holding a small box of strawberries that he’d picked up in the farmer’s market on his way back. It was the only thing he hadn’t gotten at the grocery store because he knew the strawberries from the market were better. At least that’s what Hisoka claimed.
“Thank you for getting me these.” Hisoka chirped, smiling around his savage bite of the bloody red fruit.
“You’re welcome,” Illumi replied automatically, smiling himself when he saw the way Hisoka’s grin curled in contentment. He hummed absently as he sat on the kitchen counter, munching on strawberries as he watched Illumi bustle about the kitchen.
A few days later, having gone shopping for more meat and vegetables, Illumi perused the framer’s market until he saw a strange fruit that he didn’t recognize the name of. Virscia were the size of his fist and purple on the outside but pale green on the inside. The vendor said the closest thing he could compare the fruit to was a cross between wine and pineapples. Illumi bought four, as well as some durian and one watermelon. He arrived home with his purchases and sat the kitchen table, watching Hisoka enjoy his gifts over the course of the week.
Three weeks later he bought some of Hisoka’s favorite hair gel after noticing he was running low. While at the store, he found some face masks that were said to be good for moisturizing. Hisoka had mentioned before that his makeup could dry out his skin if he kept it on too long, so he added the masks to the cart. Hisoka was delighted by the masks and insisted they both wear them that night while watching a movie. The gel tingled nicely against his skin, but Illumi was more pleased about the comforting warmth radiating throughout his body.
A month later he risked the purchase of a pack of cards. Two packs, technically. One was a hand painted set of intricate vines and sweeping waves for the pip cards with delicately featured people for the court cards. The red was a deep, rich color reminiscent of fresh blood. The black was a dark, consuming tone that made the white shine in contrast.
The other was a cheap, gag deck that depicted the current Zodiacs in various poses and states of dress. Illumi was disappointed, but not surprised, when Hisoka seemed to like that one more. But the next time Illumi had brought Hisoka along on an assignment, he noticed how Hisoka placed a careful kiss to his expensive cards before dragging them through an opponent’s jugular.
But was it enough?
Three months later, lying in bed without a hint of sleep to come, Illumi was counting and tallying his gifts. Fruit and makeup and cards and hair dye and earrings and candy. Was it all enough? Was he doing enough? It was all so small, so paltry that Illumi couldn’t be certain if Hisoka understood just how much-
“I love you,” the words slipped out of his mouth and he heard Hisoka move beside him. The mattress didn’t make a sound, but the bed dipped as Hisoka straddled Illumi and kissed him, deep and slow and yearning.
“I know.” He said, his breath ghosting across his lips before he closed the distance again.
“No, Hisoka,” Illumi placed his hands on Hisoka’s face, pulling Hisoka far back enough for them to look each other in the eye, to try and communicate what went beyond words. “I love you.”
“I know,” Hisoka grinned, his eyes becoming mere slits to make room on his face for his smile. “You show me with every gift you give.” Hisoka pushed against his hands, leaning down to place a kiss on his nose.
“All those things you give me. You know me so well. You pay attention to me. You think of me. You love me. I know. I know because you show me.” He placed another kiss, this time of Illumi’s lips, and Illumi slid his hands up and into Hisoka’s hair.
“Thank you,” Hisoka murmured, this time keeping his mouth close enough for Illumi to feel his lips brush against his own. “Thank you, for thinking of me.”