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It had been hot outside, waiting in the brush on the side of the highway. So hot Hisoka had been a bit worried that the ring in his pocket would heat to immeasurable levels and burn a hole in his pocket. That would just ruin the surprise, so after a half hour of cajoling and then five minutes of cat and mouse as he sprinted down the highway to the roadside restaurant he'd spotted a mile back with Illumi hot on his tail, they found themselves sitting at the bar.
Typically, Hisoka enjoyed helping Illumi kill someone. Typically, it didn't involve him waiting on the side of the road for a car to drive past for Illumi to snipe. There was no artistry in that, a distinct lack of pleasure, and even Illumi had to admit, after being met with the air-conditioned interior of the restaurant, that it would be another hour until the target was supposed to arrive.
“You're a fucking child,” Illumi griped as Hisoka ordered for the two of them.
“Oh don't say that, Illumi,” Hisoka elbowed him, “You're going to make him card me.” He winked to the boy across the bar who just raised his eyebrows. It didn't seem to be a place known for their strict no underage drinking rules.
“Hey,” Illumi snapped at the bartender, “I don't want whatever he ordered me,” It had been an underground Irish whiskey that Hisoka knew to be quite a delicacy, but never mind that, “Do you have hot tea?”
“Hot tea?” The boy and Hisoka said in unison.
“It'll keep me acclimated,” Illumi explained, sweat pooling in the little wrinkle in between his eyebrows, “You know, after you tore me away from my work because you can't stand being a little warm.”
“It's 112 out there. I don't blame you,” The bartender chuckled only to be silenced by a glare from Illumi, “Uh, we don't have tea.”
“Hot tap water's fine,” Illumi sighed, moving his focus to the clock above the exit.
'Lukewarm,' Hisoka mouthed to the bartender who nodded and turned his back to them.
Illumi's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he almost fell off his seat with the urgency that he reached for it with. He'd started doing that more and more after Killua stopped talking to him.
“If this is my Dad saying the target is early, I'm going to ki-” Illumi spared him a glance, “never speak to you again.” He turned his attention back to his phone, expression softening the modicum necessary to return to passive.
Out of all the expression Hisoka would have guessed would don Illumi's face next, he would've naturally pulled from the ones he'd already seen, namely ire and nothing (Illumi was a polarized person), not the one that ended up gracing him. Illumi broke out into a grin, followed by a chuckle, which exploded into manic laughter. He gripped the edge of the bar eyes going wide before reducing into crescents as he pointed a limp, bouncing hand at Hisoka. His laughter began to die until he turned to Hisoka again and fell into a fit of giggles, clapping and barking like a deranged seal.
The bartender looked at them apprehensively, placing their drinks on the counter with outstretched arms.
“Oh my God,” Illumi exclaimed, smile still on his face as he gripped his stomach, “I haven't laughed like that in ages. Wow.”
“Literally. What the fuck,” Hisoka's jaw had fallen agape, and he didn't have the strength to pull it back up, “Did some kid fall down? What are you laughing at?”
“Oh,” Illumi choked down another laugh as his eyes briefly touched on Hisoka, “I can't tell you.” He looked down at his phone and laughed from deep in his chest.
“You have to tell me Illumi. You're worrying me.”
“Machi was texting me.” Illumi waved him off.
“You text with Machi? I don't even have her number,” Hisoka scoffed, inching closer in a way that was decidedly un-sneaky as he attempted to get the phone.
“How do you ask her to fix you up?” Illumi asked, placing a firm hand on his phone.
“I text Shizuku, and she relates the message.”
“Shizuku can read?”
Hisoka winced, amending, “I send her voice messages.” He shook his head, “It doesn't matter. What could Machi have possibly sent you that elicit that response? Is it about me?”
“Not everything is about you,” Illumi replied, haughtily.
“Some things are, and I'm your only common ground, so spill,” Hisoka made a desperate grab for Illumi's phone which he knew to be unlocked because Illumi was an over-confident dick.
Illumi batted him away and took a sip from his lukewarm water, wincing as he did, “It's not hot enough, and besides we both use pins and stuff so.”
“So you're giggling over sewing because you're 80 years old Illumi. Fuck off.”
“Ok,” Illumi bit his lip as another laugh crawled it's way up his throat, “Maybe it was about you.”
“Then I deserve to know,” Hisoka whined.
“Fine, but you're just going to get your feelings hurt.”
“I'm a grown man, give me the goddamn phone,” Hisoka made grabby hands, eagerly opening Illumi's texts with Machi.
“And what do you mean you 'don't have Machi's number'?” Illumi mimicked, “You kept finding mine after I changed it three times when we first met.”
Hisoka's feelings were a little hurt. His lips pursed as he stared down at the image and the following tag line.
Mach (pink hair)(not Hisoka): *1 image attachment I'm hoping this smacks some sense into you. He's so stupid.
“I hate you,” Hisoka spat weakly, “What is wrong with you? I almost died. Aren't you supposed to love me?”
“You didn't almost die,” Illumi chuckled again, again, “He fucking killed you Hisoka. Chrollo killed you.”
Hisoka grimaced down at the image on the phone. It was of him, laying on the wrecked ground of the heaven's arena floor where he'd fought Chrollo, face half blown off and hand somewhere squashed in the wreckage. “You need a therapist, Illumi. This is mean to do to your best friend.”
“I have a therapist,” Illumi shrugged at Hisoka's raised eyebrow, “Zoldyck family therapist.”
“We're going to circle back around to that, but this isn't funny. It was traumatizing,” Hisoka sighed into his palm, gazing at the sad remnants of his beautiful face.
“It's a little funny.” Illumi leaned over and tapped the image, “Look. He decimated you.”
“I can see that, and besides he didn't 'decimate' me. Decimate means-”
“Reduced by 10%.” Illumi fired back, displeased at Hisoka's attempt to school him, “10% of you is fucking gone Hisoka. Gone.” He tapped the image again, zooming in on his sacrilege of a nose.
Hisoka rolled his eyes, “It's not your place to laugh.”
“It is my place to laugh. I cried when you died, you know, and I'm only telling you that to make sure you don't hear it from Milluki or some shit. Which reminds me, stop sending him intimate details of our relationship. Neither of us appreciate that. Oh!” Illumi slammed his fist down on the table, “Speaking of sending things to Milluki, I should forward him the photo, give it back.”
“No! Don't send it to Milluki,” Hisoka gave the phone back only when Illumi had nodded which only happened after he rolled his eyes. There was a pause between them as Hisoka took the first sip of his drink, “You cried?”
“Like...” Illumi shrugged, “I can't even lie. I was like a little bitch.”
“Really?” Hisoka said, voice coming out as a whisper.
Illumi looked back to him, eyes going wide, before falling back into that damned laughter, “Oh, no. Not about you. I bet a small fortune on you winning. Enough to feed a small country, maybe even a medium sized country in a time of war. It was a disaster. My Dad chewed me out so bad.”
“Huh,” Hisoka gnawed at the rim of his glass.
“Well,” Illumi sighed, “I was sad about you too, but I lost 65,000,000,000 jenny. It eclipsed it, sorry.”
“Shit-” Hisoka gaped at him, “How much?”
“ 65,000,00-”
“No I heard you. You had that much faith in me?” Hisoka touched a hand to Illumi's shoulder.
“Not anymore,” Illumi took another sip of mild water and snapped his fingers at the bartender, “Barkeep. I want something boiling. Don't be a dip-shit.”
Hisoka smiled at the poor boy, vowing to tip him generously, “It was sweet in the moment. It's nice to know you have those.”
Illumi smiled, like it was a genuine compliment, “Besides, of course I have faith in you. Even when I shouldn't. You know I show all your fights to my siblings?”
“I did not.”
“Now you do.” Hisoka watched Illumi's throat bob on a dry swallow. “I don't know why. You always make some fuck up like letting someone take your arm, and I have to pretend it's tactical.”
“Sometimes it is.” Hisoka defended. Illumi's smile was turning out to be more infectious than expected.
“Not typically,” Illumi's mouth fell into a straight line.
“Name a fuck up I've made, and I'll disprove it,” Hisoka leaned against the bar placing his chin atop the backs of his hands because he knew to never touch his face unless he wanted blemishes.
“Ohh,” Illumi tapped his chin in mock thought, “I don't know, maybe when you failed to consider that Chrollo would take the abilities of the spiders to use them against you, specifically Machi's. That was a mistake on his part. If I had his abilities, I'd take Machi's nen stitches, so that even if I lost, you'd die too because she wouldn't be able to fix you. Now he has to deal with you twice, and that is a hellish fate, even for a douchebag like him.”
“That's a good point,” Hisoka bit his lip, “Um. I guess you fail to consider...I'm a masochist.”
“No.” Illumi shook his head, “You're a sadist. In fact I recall you saying, before Chrollo obliterated the cameras, that 'what gets you off more than anything else in the world is the moment people like him whimper as you gaze down upon them after shattering their kneecaps.' Tell me,” Illumi propped his face up on his palm, uncaring of the ramifications on his skin, “Did he ever do that for you?”
Hisoka sucked at his gums, “...No.”
“Ah. I didn't think so,” Illumi sat up straight and clapped his hands, “We should go. In fact, we shouldn't have come here in the first place.”
“Ok,” Hisoka singsonged, pulling out a couple bills and putting them down on the counter, “But only if you promise not to send the photo to Milluki. I don't want it ruining the respect he has for me.”
Illumi choked on another laugh, “Right. Besides I already promised,” He rubbed at his nose, “and then I sent it to him while you weren't looking.”
“Oh fuck, Illumi,” Hisoka slammed one foot down on the sticky bar floor, and then, it was Illumi's turn to be chased a mile down the highway in temperatures in the low 100s.