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Illumi blinked blearily into the softly lit bedroom. The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains and painted everything a pale, blue glow. There were black-out curtains of course, but they’re rarely drawn when he was around. Illumi liked watching the city lights at night as he falls asleep.
He was starting to feel uncomfortably warm, but the dead weight over his waist was...pleasant. He spent a few more minutes not moving, to savour it. Carefully, he tried keeping his breath in time with the breathing behind him. Eventually, the heat got a little too unbearable, and Illumi was left with no choice but to sit up. He didn’t bother to be gentle. It was unlikely to wake his bedmate. The arm across his waist slid down to rest across his thighs. Hisoka still hadn’t stirred. He wiggled out further, and managed to get out of bed. After splashing his face with cold water and brushing his teeth, he changed into a muscle shirt and leggings, wrapped his hair up into a high bun, secured it with one of his pins, and headed out the door.
Unlike during the afternoons and evenings, the gym was blissfully deserted bar two girls over on the treadmills. Illumi went through his workout quickly enough. He wasn’t really pushing himself, it’s his day off after all. This was more out of habit of routine than any real training. Before heading back up to the suite, he stopped by the in-house cafe and bought breakfast and coffee.
When he pushed the front door open, he was greeted with upbeat jazz music playing softly. Hisoka was up. Finally.
“Hello handsome. I thought you left without saying goodbye again.”
Illumi held up the bags in his hand in lieu of answering, while he stepped out of his gym shoes.
“Oh! Breakfast!” Hisoka’s smile was so wide, his eyes crinkled and all but disappeared. “All your sins are forgiven!” he sang as he took the bags from Illumi.
“Surely not all of them. Absolution can’t be that easy.”
But Hisoka was already over at the kitchen counter with the bags, setting out the plates, and pouring out glasses of chilled orange juice mixed with champagne from the fridge. Illumi briefly thought of his mother who used to spend most mornings with a glass of Prosecco in her hand.
Hisoka hummed as he worked. He always sleeps in the nude, but he had on a pair of grey sweatpants now. Pity. His torso at least, was still gloriously bare.
Illumi slid into one of the high stools while Hisoka arranged the food on the plates. "What are your plans for today?”
“Hmm? Nothing. I don’t have any jobs lined up. I guess I’ll just head home later and check in on Mother and Milluki,” Illumi said carefully. The words are innocuous, his tone deliberately neutral.
Hisoka hummed low, nonchalant. Illumi picked a cherry tomato from his plate and pops it in his mouth.
Breakfast passes amicably. Mimosas downed, they sipped on their coffees, still warm in their travel cups. Eventually, they lapsed into a companionable silence. Hisoka was smiling as he stared out the window. Illumi did not smile as he did not stare at the way the sunlight made Hisoka’s pale lashes glow; his already bright eyes lit to radiance. It was his favourite thing about staying until the morning after: Seeing Hisoka barefaced, and with his hair undone. He thought about the thing he had hidden in the side pocket of his duffel bag. It made him feel like he’d just swallowed a goldfish whole and it was swimming about aggressively in the pit of his stomach.
Giving in to temptation suddenly, he reached over and raked his hand in Hisoka’s hair, violently ruffling it up before Hisoka could pull away.
“Hey, what-? What are you doing?!” There was a note of surprise and disapproval in his voice. Hisoka was quite prideful of his looks.
Illumi caught his wrist before Hisoka could start smoothing his hair down again. “Leave it. I didn’t get to see your bedhead this morning.”
Hisoka tsked and reached up with his other hand instead. Illumi caught the other wrist too. He felt suddenly very silly. A little giddy, a little unsteady, but very silly. Hisoka didn’t fight him though, just sat slightly hunched forward with his hair tussled and sticking up and over his eyes, both his wrists unresisting in Illumi’s grip. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “if you stayed in bed a little longer, you would have had the opportunity, my dear.”
No, that was not the right one. Progress, but not quite there. Illumi let go. Hisoka combed his fingers through his bangs to push them back.
“There’s no telling if I had to wait till noon. Half the day could be over before you decide to wake up.”
“That,” Hisoka pointed out, “is what most people do when they have a day off, Lumi.”
Illumi leaned back on his hands on the barstool and sighed, “I cannot even begin to fathom ‘most people.’”
Hisoka smiled like he was sharing a joke with himself, but his eyes were still on Illumi. “Alright Mr High and Mighty. Help me clear this up.”
Illumi began to arrange the dishes in the dishwasher while Hisoka tossed the empty coffee cups. The dishes from the night before were already there, together with a pair of wine glasses. He managed to fit the rest of the dishes in between. It was basically like tetris. Milluki would be proud of him. “You know, I’m surprised you managed to survive for so long, with how deeply you sleep. It’s a miracle you haven’t been gutted on the street yet all these years.”
“I would sleep much lighter if I had a reason to stay on guard.”
That got Illumi mildly offended. “You don’t think I could gut you?”
Hisoka’s laugh was startled, like a house of cards tumbling over. “I think if you were planning to gut me, you wouldn’t wait until I was asleep.”
Well, “That is true,” he conceded.
Illumi walked over to the living area. It was past noon. Perhaps he would head home after a shower. But there was still time. He still had a chance to get what he wanted. The game wasn’t over yet. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Hisoka moving some of the dishes around before shutting the door and running the dishwasher. He opened his mouth to tell Hisoka that he was going to use the shower. The music was still playing softly over the speakers. Instead, for some unfathomable reason, he said, “This kind of music reminds me of you.”
Hisoka’s snake eyes narrowed at him, “Does it now?”
Illumi was balking. “Yes.” That was an unnecessarily vulnerable sentence. Where did it even come from. Was it the champagne? He’d only had one glass.
He was thinking about the one word he wanted to hear; about the pocket in his bag and the thing inside it; about the way Hisoka pouted earlier, squinting through his bangs. He was thinking about how these things, objectively, made him weak.
Still, as Hisoka stalked (sashayed?) over, Illumi stood his ground. When scarred arms wrapped around him, pinning his own arms to his sides, Illumi did not resist. He didn’t lean away when Hisoka pressed his face into the curve of his neck, although he was acutely aware of how close those sharp canines were to his left carotid artery.
He thought instead about the pleasing shape of Hisoka’s trapezius. He thought about the faint smattering of freckles on his bare face and shoulders, and the sharp edge to the smirk Hisoka wore always. He thought about how Hisoka slept next to him knowing he wouldn’t be gutted in his slumber. All these things. He didn’t feel weak.
When Hisoka spoke, his voice was low “Do you think about me a lot, darling?”
There it was. That’s the one Illumi wanted. “This music is unnecessarily buoyant. It is jazz, but one would not feel relaxed listening to it at all.”
This time Hisoka laughed outright. “Jazz Manouche isn’t meant to be relaxing! Jazz Manouche is for dancing, darling.” Hisoka pulled away, but kept his hands around Illumi’s wrists, mimicking their pose earlier. Then he tugged Illumi into step with him. Illumi didn’t know the moves, so he let Hisoka lead. The dance was fast, and Hisoka moved lightly, obviously familiar and well practiced in the style. Illumi tripped over Hisoka’s feet more than once, but neither of them were bothered. To his credit, Illumi was remarkably good at following instructions, even unspoken ones, like from a dance partner. Hisoka was laughing clear and unencumbered. Illumi felt like he could too.
When Hisoka changed directions a little too quickly, Illumi almost lost his balance and nearly fell over the side table if not for the arm encircled around his waist and holding him up. As he straightened, gasping a little to catch his breath, Hisoka kissed him. Quick, just a peck, right at the corner of his mouth. Just out of reach of being kissed back.
Hisoka often felt like he was just out of reach. Often took moments of affection in a way where it would be allowed, but didn’t need to be reciprocated. Oh, but Illumi knew he’d already won this time. Your move, Zoldyck.
“I better shower now if I want to catch the last flight,” he murmured as he reached up with both hands to hold either sides of Hisoka’s face. His cheekbones felt solid under his thumbs. Illumi looked him straight in the eyes as he pulled him down to kiss him full on the mouth. The hands around his waist tightened.
When they pulled apart, Hisoka was looking at him through his lashes. Without mascara, they were pale like the hairs on his arms. Illumi thought about biting them. How would Hisoka react? Probably with annoya-
“Stay.”
Oh. Illumi cocked his head to the side. He knew he was smiling now. Mission accomplished.
“Okay.”
Illumi thought again to the velvet box weighing down the pocket of his duffel bag. One of these days. One of these days they wouldn’t have to play little games to reach this point. One of these days, Illumi wouldn’t have to wait for an invitation, and Hisoka wouldn’t have to tease to see if Illumi would reach back for him. There will be no need for permission, and no fear of rejection, and when that day comes, Illumi will slip the gold band over Hisoka’s left ring finger in his sleep, and that would be that.