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Illumi curled into the hug from behind and sighed in relish.
How he cherished that heartfelt embrace! Just how much of his life had he gone without it? It had been many, far too many years that now, having tasted the comfort of a body close to his, he never wanted to find himself being deprived of it ever again.
He closed his arms around those that were fastening around his chest, pressing his form snug against the warm presence behind him. Palming a tender hand, Illumi stroked the digits in absent-minded affection.
Assassins don’t need friends. Illumi had lived by this mantra for as long as he could remember and not only had he full heartedly believed in its truth, he also had made those closest to him follow its lead – be it by persuasion or by force.
A nose nuzzled his neck, followed by gentle lips that grazed the soft skin so lightly they were hardly perceivable. The hot breath ghosting over his shell made him lean in to the touch in shudder.
How could he possibly have known it would feel this outstanding? He had never even once realized that indeed, he craved these gentle touches! He lusted for them as much as a parched man in the desert did for water and on a second thought, he had been exactly that – a stranded man, thirsting his whole life without even realizing that he needed to drink. And then, he had been presented with the most abundant of oases…
Illumi inclined his head and pressed his lips onto the temple of the other. Tiny hairs tickled his mouth as he continued to bestow dozens of lazy kisses upon the warm skin, making the other laugh ever so softly. It earned the assassin a tight squeeze before a hand wandered off to caress his belly in small circles.
It were these gentle little touches that had Illumi biting his tongue whenever the trail of the other’s hands would leave scorching traces in their wake, invisible to the human eye but all the more perceptible to the assassin himself.
When those flames had broken loose for the first time, Illumi had wiggled his way out of the embrace, alerted and confused. The tight hug had felt too much like an attempt to immobilize him, leaving him open to any attack that the other might had had waiting for him behind the caress. Yet, the complete lack of a dark aura, surging bloodlust or even a single hint of deceitful intention had made him wonder. Presented with a situation he had not been able to place, the assassin had been left behind with strange emotions coming alive in his chest.
Slowly and steadily, Illumi turned around in the embrace to face the one holding him close, taking the support of the strong arms enveloping him to keep his balance in what little room he had to move. Raven hair fanned over his back like midnight silk when he straightened up to run his hands through the shock of red that did not belong to him. The strands flew thick and strong through his digits and Illumi had to apply a little force to reach through the luxuriant locks to the scalp, giving the other a little massage whilst applying just the right amount of pressure.
Small and pleasant sighs flew through the air and gentle hands were strolling around Illumi’s torso, tickling his waist here and there, grabbing him tight and setting him loose in a rhythm that did not quite exist but that caught onto him nevertheless. Soft and intimate laughs echoed, a token of a bond forged over years and strengthened through numerous, uncountable adventures.
That was when Illumi lowered his eyes to meet the other.
His training was flawless. At least that was what he had always liked to believe. After all, Illumi was born an elite assassin and the capability to properly understand and react to every situation in a matter of seconds was vital to his profession. He had been trained endless, rough years for as long as he could remember to bear any form of torture and deprivation with only as much as slight annoyance flashing in his eyes.
But he wasn’t trained for this.
None of his training could have ever prepared him for the waves of tender emotion washing over both his body and soul whenever he was facing these glinting golden eyes up close. All he had ever been taught was destitution – now, abundance was something he felt absolutely incapable to handle. It caused sheer uproar in his heart because he did not know in the least how he should respond to the emotion taking control of all of his being. It came crashing down on him like an avalanche, almost crushing his form and he was not sure if he should cry or laugh or riot or hide or do everything combined or nothing at all to relieve this suffocating weight on his chest.
As of now, sharing his state had proven to be the most effective method, so he leaned in to the other who came to meet him halfway as he touched their lips together. Warm and soft skin was greeting his own and Illumi parted from the kiss as soon as it was sealed just to sink his lips down again, over and over, every touch like the very first one and yet so acquainted after the thousandth time. The clench of emotion around his ribcage subsided slowly and incompletely.
As much as the affectionate touches of the other evoked the turmoil in his mind to unfold, it also caused the storm to settle. Every time their foreheads would touch, every time their hands would intertwine, every time Illumi would fill his lungs with the inimitable scent of the other – every single one of these cherished moments felt like a small step towards finally finding his peace of mind.
He had never experienced anything alike.
And never had he thought he would find his haven outside of his family. Indeed, the Zoldyck-bond was extraordinarily strong, but it also was extraordinarily professional. His father, his mother, his grandparents – they had risen him from the cradle on to become a professional and all the warm words of praise he had ever received were directed towards his professionality. Illumi had always been an overachiever, even at the high standards that had been set for him, and he had long thought that he had wanted to stay the star pupil because of how proud everyone had been that he lived up to the Zoldyck name.
But right now, when one tender hand leisurely raked through his long silken hair and the other pressed his form against the warm presence that bestowed fleeting kisses upon his face, it appeared to him that he had much rather done it for the affection he would receive in the aftermath of his actions. Had he been successful, his father would down one of his giant hands onto his head and ruffle the formerly short locks with paternal fondness and his mother would come to squeeze his tiny shoulders, exuberant with pride.
Now he knew that those little touches were all he had ever truly wanted.
Illumi had been the first and the last Zoldyck-child to receive such an upbringing. Over time, his parents and their education methods had changed, gradually, as his younger siblings were born. They had still been strict, some would say heartless, but by far more affectionate than Illumi had ever witnessed before. Playing together in the estate, both his father and mother could observe their children being exactly that – tiny beings who formed bonds through touching, tasting and warmth.
But Illumi…Illumi had already grown to half a man by then.
He had not envied his siblings at that time, though. To him, emotionality had always been something that existed merely for threat, a weakness, a flaw that he had long overcome – just as if he had been an improved version of man, the Ubermensch of sorts.
In the end, though, it showed that he, too, was only human.
Erasing the last puny remains of distance between him and the other, Illumi pressed his athletic form to a muscular chest, curling his arms around the other’s torso to feel him as close as possible, to sense every centimetre of his skin being greeted by warmth. The other moved, mimicking his action, but he still felt too far away from him.
Illumi clutched even tighter to the other, feeling his muscles strain in a hopeless attempt to bring their bodies closer together when there was already no space left in between. The assassin resented being caged in his body, being held prisoner to his physical restraints as he heard the bones pop in his back when the other, too, pressed him tighter to himself. Breathing got harder by the second, his lungs compressed by the force the clench to the other’s body applied to his ribs.
But why was this still not close enough…?
Why did the other still feel so far away…?
Could he not just sink into the other, merge with him into one being and never part again…?
“Hold me.”
The nearly inaudible whisper flew from his lips before Illumi even realized. It sounded stupid. It sounded weak. It sounded desperate. But in these moments of tender proximity, the suffocating waves of affection distracted the adult that had kept the assassin composed ever since he had left the womb, and deserted his inner child out in the open.
This child was the weakest part of him. A pathetic little being that feared nothing more in the big, unyielding world than rejection. It was so full of anxiety, so full of despair – Illumi needed to remove it, he needed to kill it before it indefinitely would push the other away…
The caressing hand on his head eased his thoughts from the futile battle inside. The grasp around Illumi’s body had loosened to grant both the badly needed oxygen, but the other did not move away one inch and kept the assassin in his arms, still holding him warm and tight. Somewhere from the back of the other’s throat, a soft melody came to echo into the void, a nostalgic tune not unlike a lullaby Illumi had never heard before.
The assassin lowered his head onto the other’s shoulder and felt the vibrations of the deep timbre inside the man’s chest agreeably resonating in his skull before the other began to sway slightly, taking Illumi with him in every movement. Listening to the low hum, the raven closed his eyes and allowed the warmth to sink into each and every of his pores as they were moving together in the slow dance.
Indeed, attachment was a flawed emotion. It only hurt, in various degrees. Even when it was supposed to feel good, it held on to his chest too tightly, making him wonder if his ribcage would burst with all the emotion that could never fit inside. Attachment was no tender feeling, it was a raw force ravishing his being and leaving him with no means but to stand and endure. Illumi could not fathom what it would be like once the emotion turned to unfold its ugly side.
Yet stronger than the pain and all of its dark foreshadowing was the perception of true intimacy that exceeded the physical level by far. Illumi knew that he had created his Achilles’ heel with the bond he was fostering in this exact moment, that there would come the day it would turn against him. But he also knew he had never before experienced true happiness in his life.
And that was what was keeping him from letting go just yet.