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“Can I come inside your hole?” Hisoka asks.
“No.”
Illumi’s being stubborn today, Hisoka thinks. “Not even if I beg?”
Illumi doesn’t respond, but Hisoka feels his lover shift underneath him.
“Illumi, you’ve been like this all night. Are you going to mope forever?”
The loose dirt under which Illumi is hiding shifts slightly again as he moves in his hole deep underground, but he doesn’t come out.
“How long are you going to make your poor fiancé wait? Last time you were in there for a week. I could have been hunted and killed and you wouldn’t have known.”
Hisoka is aware that if someone were to come across him like this, lying on his stomach on the forest floor talking and staring longingly at the dirt, they’d think he was mad. They’d be right, of course, but that’s beside the point.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m not the one hiding in a hole in the ground because his brother has friends.”
The ground reverberates in a way that makes Hisoka think that Illumi is actually digging himself deeper down there.
“Hey, love,” he says. “I’m sorry. I know your family is really important to you. But your problems will not be solved by hibernating.”
The digging stops.
“I want to see the sunlight on your face, hmm?”
Slowly, slowly, Illumi emerges. The top of his head pokes up above the level of the earth and his wide black eyes blink at Hisoka.
“Good morning.”
Half an hour later, Hisoka has managed to fully extricate his fiancé from the dirt, and has positioned Illumi in his lap, combing the sand from the long black hair. Illumi stares into space listlessly.
“What are you going to do now?” the magician asks.
“I failed.”
“Mm-hmm. Because you were meant to bring your brother back.”
“I will be punished for this.”
“Why go back home at all?” It’s what Hisoka has been yearning to say for years.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“You think so?”
“You’re just a fucked-up psychopathic clown with a fetish for murder. You don’t have any idea what it means to care for someone.”
Hisoka can’t keep a grin from his face. “You don’t have to be so blunt, darling. But at least I’m self aware.”
For a while, the only sound is the chirping of birds from the surrounding trees. Hisoka continues to run his hands through Illumi’s hair.
“...Do you think Kill loves me?” Illumi asks.
“No.”
“Why? I’m his older brother, he should–”
“I think a better question is why you still love your parents. I think you’re the one who has no idea what it means to care for someone.”
Illumi is angry. Hisoka can feel it in the way his muscles have stiffened. His eyes hold murderous intent. Fun.
“Don’t talk about things you don’t know about,” Illumi says icily.
“If your parents had taught you better, Killua would love you.”
Illumi throws himself off of Hisoka.
“They taught me what was best for him–”
“Oh? And your fear of punishment– you don’t think that has anything to do with it? You don’t think Killua feels the same way?”
Illumi’s face is unflinching.
“I made Kill strong,” he insists. “I had to. Otherwise they–” He stops. “Otherwise they would do worse to both of us.” He sits down.
“Don’t go back home. Or away again. Desert the military,” Hisoka says, challenging.
“What is there left, then?” Illumi asks quietly.
“Me.” Hisoka boops Illumi on the nose.
Hisoka has always done whatever he wants, whatever he feels like, has never looked back or gotten attached. But he likes playing games with Illumi, likes working with him, likes drawing reactions out of him, likes having mind-blowing sex with him, likes talking to him and cooking for him and watching him wake up in the morning. Illumi is interesting. Hisoka likes watching his broken soul come back together, and maybe his own does the same just a little bit. Some deep part of him knows it’s not really a game anymore–
Hisoka moves closer to Illumi and embraces him, his mouth teasing Illumi’s ear.
“Let’s be fucked up together.”