Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Nothing If Not By Your Side ❯ "I want *you*..." ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

*****5*****


"Watari!!" bellows Tatsumi Seiichirou's strong, masculine voice, echoing over the walls as he storms into the basement laboratory.

Half-dressed for bed, he had been contentedly sleeping away, but after being aroused by the racket coming from below, literally threw on his robe as he dashed out the door. Actually, other than his navy boxers, it is the only thing he is wearing. He doesn't even have his glasses on.

"It is two in the morning. What could you be doing in here to make this much noise?"

"Ahh...Tatsumi-san...up already?" Watari replies meekly, smiling a toothy grin that drips of guilt and evasion. The blonde busy-body is hovering over stacks of beakers and test tubes, each filled with differently colored solutions.

"Hai, thanks to you." grumbles out a fatigued reply. The poor brunette is still somewhat wrapped up in the remains of slumber. "Tell me you'll be going to bed soon, kudasai. This lab is right beneath my apartment. I can hear the steam rising from the Bunsen burners, for goodness sake!"

Watari flashes a more relaxed smile at this, gathering up his supplies to be stored away until morning. "Lucky for you, I was just about to call it a night. Gomen for waking you. I guess the success of Kurosaki-kun's potion inspired me. I've been trying out new concoctions left and right ever since."

Pause. The bright-eyed scientist suddenly stops dead on his way to the storage room, turning to face Tatsumi, who is still lingering near the entrance.

"Have you seen him yet, Tatsumi-san? He's quite a work of art, if I do say so myself."

"You always say so yourself." teases the ruffled older man, folding his arms over his chest with a thoughtful tilt of his head. "But I did see him. Tsuzuki took him down to Earth, and I saw them heading upstairs on their way back. Last I checked, the boy was putting Tsuzuki to bed."

"Already? I underestimated him."

"Don't jump to conclusions." Tatsumi corrects, banishing his friend's wandering thoughts. He continues to talk to him, calling out across the room as Watari disappears through the door at the back. "Kurosaki isn't like that. It will take a bit more time, I think, even if they do feel the same way about each other. I imagine the boy is at this very moment pacing back and forth in his room, debating whether or not to go back. He's an analyst, after all. He won't understand his feelings right away."

Emerging from the storage closet, Watari stops to turn off lights and buzzing machinery on his way to the door, looking quite concentrated as he thinks over Tatsumi's observations. Upon reaching his friend, however, the blonde takes a moment to trail his eyes over the sight before him, raising a golden eyebrow curiously.

Tatsumi's robe is clumsily tied, revealing much of his chest, as well as a few glances of dark blue boxers from the lopsided angle it is hanging off his form. With such rumpled hair and clothing, he looks positively adorable and deceivingly young, devoid of his usual tension as the call of sleep continues to beckon.

"Naughty, naughty. How unprofessional of you to go out looking like this." Watari comments playfully, practically purring the words. "Kurosaki-kun may be too shy to act on his feelings, but I have a few more years of experience than he does."

Prowling closer, Watari taps his fingers lightly up along his companion's exposed chest, tickling him ever so slightly, and smirking devilishly at the somewhat shocked expression turning to stare back at him.

"You don't really have to go back to sleep, Tatsumi-san. I've seen you function on only an hour of bed rest before. Besides, there are so many others things we could do..."

Motioning as if to speak, Tatsumi pulls out of his pursuer's clutches, but before he can utter a single word of protest, Watari silences him with a swift shake of cascading blonde hair, a firm finger to hush dissenting lips, and a gentle tug at the corner's of a certain robe's loosely hanging collar, leading both of them out of the lab.

"Don't try to fight a battle you can't win, Tat-chan." the impish scientist grins.

Truth be told, Tatsumi is offering less and less resistance the more he is led astray. "You're setting a terrible example, you know?" he states firmly, stumbling behind a bit as he is dragged through the halls.

In reply to this oddly serious exclamation, Watari throws out a glorious laugh, like the sensual melody of a siren at sea. "Sticks and stones, Tatsumi-san. Sticks and stones..."


-----


Late in the night, whispers seem alive, unable to sleep, while a scream or shattering crash would be convulsively welcome. It is too dark, too quiet, and far too comfortably warm for how on edge he feels within the barren solitude of his room.

Hisoka has been dressed to go to bed for ages - completely bare other than his remaining, red boxers - but for incalculable minutes he has been replaying the recent events of his life. Growing up, getting used to the change, enjoying himself with Tsuzuki, and then leaving Tsuzuki to sleep, while a stirring deep inside of him yearns to enjoy the brunette's company well into the morning.

"Damn this body! And damn Tsuzuki for making it feel this way!" he growls, kicking savagely at the wall. "I never asked for this. I just wanted him to see me as an equal. How could I have known those insignificant feelings I had for him would turn into something this fierce?"

Downcast and distraught, he lowers his eyes, allowing them to fall on the contents of his dresser beside him. Resting proudly on top, next to his alarm-clock and the piece of paper holding that memorable fortune, is a framed picture of himself and Tsuzuki. They are outside their building in Meifu, with the many cherry blossom trees behind them. Pink petals fall all around, delicate and graceful, and Tsuzuki is smiling broadly with his arm draped over Hisoka's shoulders. As always, Hisoka's features are contorted into a deep frown with narrowing eyes, but somewhere buried beneath the bitter mask is a spark of acceptance.

More than anyone else, Tsuzuki understands him, caring for him despite all the faults he possesses. Why then, does this photo fill Hisoka with so much malice now?

Burning with sudden anger, Hisoka snatches up the picture, holding it so tightly, his fingers turn white from the force of his grip. He suddenly hates the image with inhuman passion, and howling in fury, he hurls it across the room, causing it to collide with the far wall as its protective glass shatters in shards to the floor.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Hisoka tenses, rigid with a quiver of cold that wracks his broadened frame. That knock is so familiar, so reminiscent of what had happened earlier in the evening. He knows the sound of that knock, sensing all too easily who is waiting for him to answer on the other side of the door.

"Go away!" he yells, unmoving from his spot in the middle of the room.

There is an uncomfortable silence at first, faltering to reply, but craving reprieve and consolation all the same. "Hisoka...are you all right? I heard a crash."

Such a hesitant, caring voice. Tsuzuki's voice.

Moving step by step across the carpet, Hisoka makes his way to the door, moving to open it only the tiniest crack, and hoping he will be able to get rid of Tsuzuki before the persistent man realizes what is haunting his partner so relentlessly tonight.

(How could he have gotten here so fast?) Hisoka wonders, slowly turning the doorknob to pry it open. (Was he standing outside my door...?)

Hisoka peaks out into the hallway, hiding within the shadows of the room and the angle of the door still partly closed. More than anything else, he doesn't want Tsuzuki to see him like this. Not only so emotionally troubled, but so scantily clad.

"I'm fine, Tsuzuki. Now go away." he grumbles, motioning to close the door again, even before he opens it fully.

Before Tsuzuki can be shut out, however, he quickly wedges a foot inside the room, keeping it propped wide enough to still make out Hisoka's face beyond the darkness. "What's going on Hisoka? Is something wrong?"

"Urrg! If anything, *you're* what's wrong!" the frustrated blonde barks back. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I...I was just going to get a midnight snack...and when I passed by your door, I heard something like glass breaking. I was concerned about you..."

"Stop being concerned then! There's nothing wrong, so just go to bed and leave me alone!"

Fiercely, Hisoka pushes on the door to shove it closed, but Tsuzuki's strength is more than he can match. The distressed brunette now has a hand on the door, counteracting his friend's efforts, and forcing his way inside the room despite all of Hisoka's struggling to keep him out.

With a final thrust forward, Tsuzuki bursts through, knocking Hisoka a few stumbling paces back. The invaded young man stares at his intruder with widening green eyes, caught looking like some defenseless animal with no place left to run.

"Hisoka, why are you pushing me away again?" Tsuzuki starts in, advancing carefully, with pleading and tender features. "I thought we..." but he quickly trails off as his eyes search out and discover the framed photo lying amidst broken glass on the other side of the room.

Completely silent, he moves to the far wall and bends low, picking the picture up from the floor. His face becomes even more twisted in concern when he sees what it is, and turning back to Hisoka, the expression following his movements is near as tragic as his own.

"You threw this?" he asks, looking truly hurt as he makes his way back to Hisoka's frozen form. "Why would you throw this? It's the only picture we have of us together."

"So what?" Hisoka snaps, breathing heavily from his failed attempt at keeping his privacy his own, and longing to find something to cover his bare legs and chest with, though he can't find the will to move. "Maybe I don't like that picture."

"But...we had so much fun tonight. Why are you acting like you hate me?"

On the brink of tears, an outburst of anger, and eruptions of some emotions he doesn't even understand, Hisoka reaches out and snatches the photo from Tsuzuki's hands, spinning instantly on his heels, and shoving the picture in his dresser drawer with careless brutality.

Tsuzuki is more than he can stand right now; such unwillingness to ever leave well enough alone, that oblivious nature, wrapped up in so much kind conviction, and especially those puppy-dog eyes, drooping so pathetically when he is hurt.

Shaking from pent up aggression, Hisoka cannot turn back and face his friend behind him, not if what he has to face is that same sight all over again. Like himself, Tsuzuki has removed most of his clothing for bed, though considering Hisoka put him to bed fully clothed earlier, it isn't as stripped down as it could have been.

With bare feet, an untucked and unbuttoned dress-shirt hanging over his crumpled black pants, and whispy strands of hair falling over his face, he looks like an over-sized doll waiting to be held.

"Does the picture bother you...because you still look young in it?" Tsuzuki whispers, questioning and urgent to get an honest answer.

The answer doesn't come.

"Is it because...you think *I* saw you as young? That I thought of you as a little boy?"

"Why not? You did." Hisoka breathes at last in reply, clenching his eyes shut, and keeping himself turned away from his partner's piercing gaze. "You still do. I saw it in your eyes all night. You look at me the same way you always did, but...when I look at
you..."

"How can you think this way, 'Soka?" interrupts Tsuzuki's pained voice. "I look at you the same, that's true, but the way I see you has never been as a little boy. I don't understand this. We had so much fun together, and then I fall asleep and wake to find you trashing your room? What's going on? Dozo, Hisoka, tell me the truth."

Bitterly slow, Hisoka shifts around, staring back at Tsuzuki with tear-filled eyes and trembling hands he has clutched tightly to his chest.

This pitiable image at lasts strikes Tsuzuki for what it is, at least in some form. Hisoka is standing bare before him, not just from lack of clothing with only those red boxers to keep him covered, but from the show of emotion in his eyes, on his face, and drenching every word that leaves his quivering lips.

"I...I don't know." he whimpers, trying so hard to keep himself from crying outright. "All I know is you. I see you, hear you, feel you in everything, and I can't get rid of you. I don't want to get rid of you. I just want...you. And I...don't know what it means."

Tsuzuki's face looks on utterly blank with lingering shock at this admission. Right in front of him, the person he loves most in the world is trying to explain that he feels the same way.

Trailing his eyes over Hisoka's body, he sees what he has always seen. Beauty. Pure, unadulterated beauty. Hisoka is perfect. Smooth, defined muscles, blonde locks brushing his strong collar bone, gorgeous, sculpted features. All of it comes together, creating a handsome young man Tsuzuki adored even before the body grew.

He loves Hisoka. 16 or 23, it doesn't matter. Love is love. Hisoka is Hisoka. And the tragically broken boy deserves to know the truth.

Advancing forward, Tsuzuki smiles brilliantly in his approach, offering a caring expression to assure Hisoka that there is nothing to be afraid of. "My Hisoka...so *this* is what's been bothering you..." he chuckles lightly, lifting a soft, tender hand to stroke Hisoka's face and wipe those renegade tears away. "All this potion nonsense has gone to your head. You have a beautiful body, grown or not, but the body has never been what I love about you. Don't think I see you as just a kid, and don't be afraid to feel what you're feeling. I will always look at you the same way, because I will always love you the same way. And it's about time I showed you..."

Hisoka releases a sudden gasp as Tsuzuki's arms slip around his shoulders, reaching up to run delicate fingers through his golden hair, and bringing their bodies as close as they had been in that awkward moment in the hallway.

This time, however, it is not an accident. Not in the slightest.

Leaning in close, Tsuzuki's breath tingles over Hisoka's skin, and soon his mouth is claiming his partner's deeply, forming them together as if they were one person instead of two.

The intimacy of this contact washes over Hisoka like nothing else, filling him with every whim and emotion Tsuzuki is feeling. It is far more powerful than the surge he had felt from merely having the older man close against him. This is a connection running within as well as without.

Sensitive and needing, Tsuzuki's tongue brushes over Hisoka's lips, seeking permission no one could possibly refuse. The force of love and longing emanating from the brunette is so unbelievably strong, Hisoka is overwhelmed, but somehow he finds the force of will to meet his own tongue to Tsuzuki's, tasting him with every caress, and wanting more with every release.

When the two finally pull apart, they are breathless and flushed, and Tsuzuki's violet eyes shimmer down at his shivering companion, holding all the wonders of the world in those two sparks of light.

"Did you feel it, 'Soka? Do you understand how much I love you? How I would do anything for you?"

Hisoka cannot answer, barely able to breath or stand up straight, but his chest rises and falls heavily, with emerald eyes gazing hungrily in reply. They are still so close, still holding on to one another, for although Tsuzuki had been the one to enfold Hisoka, the younger man quickly followed suit.

But this isn't enough. The warmth, the odd tremble low in his stomach, is not yet overcome, growing stronger, and practically growling for fulfillment.

"I feel it..." Hisoka answers at last, his voice breathy and unstable. "I feel...so much of you...Tsuzuki...but not everything. Not...everything I want to feel..."

Tsuzuki's eyes widen in surprise. Certainly, he has often suspected that Hisoka shares his feelings, but for the boy to say such a thing, asking for something so much deeper, with such desire behind it, is far more than he ever expected.

So soon? Does Hisoka really understand what he is saying?

"I needed you to know how I feel, 'Soka, but that doesn't mean I expect anything in return. I don't want you thinking you're obligated to do something you're not ready to-"

"But I am ready! Look at me!" Hisoka cries, pulling back to gesture at his grown, adult body, still blushing from head to toe after the heat of their kiss. "I'm not a little boy anymore. What does it matter if you never saw me that way? It's what I was. But now...now I know what my feelings mean, and I don't want to push you away anymore, I want to pull you in. I want *you*, Tsuzuki."

Lunging forward again, Hisoka clings to his partner, pressing their lips together clumsily, in desperate need to get another taste. Tsuzuki nearly stumbles back by the force of contact, half losing his balance, but somehow manages to turn. Intertwined together, they fall back against the bed, and when they finally break free again, Hisoka is hovering above, holding his companion down.

"I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to keep telling myself what I feel for you is wrong. I want this, Tsuzuki. I want this..."

Hisoka lets his voice trail off, beseeching Tsuzuki with the sheer intensity of his eyes for the permission to make the next move.

Smiling, almost laughing, Tsuzuki's loving expression is answer enough. Tentatively, Hisoka pulls on his companion's shirt, slipping each arm slowly from the confines of fabric, and tosses it to the floor.

Flawless. Tsuzuki truly has the perfect body, unparalleled in design and form. It quells every remaining hesitation Hisoka has simply by seeing it this way, so vulnerable beneath him. This is indeed what he wants. What he has wanted for so long without even realizing he ached to possess it.

Tsuzuki allows Hisoka to take control, being agreeably submissive as the younger man ravages him with passionate kisses along his chest, up the side of his neck, and lingering on the delicate flesh of his ears. Tsuzuki laughs again, adoring how ravenous Hisoka's drive has become.

Returning the affection with only small caresses and kisses of his own, Tsuzuki remains at the mercy of his treasured friend. He knows that Hisoka needs this feeling of control, and he understands that need. The power must be in Hisoka's hands, or the boy would collapse into a mass of grief and uncertainty, lost to something he only wants to be free of.

Frantically, the heated blonde fumbles with the clasp of Tsuzuki's pants, still covering him with kisses, and manages to undo them and slip them down around his ankles, yanking them free with renewed vigor. Plaid boxers stare back at him - green, purple, and black - holding a whole new challenge.

The further this is taken, the harder it will be to turn back.

Even knowing this, Hisoka pauses only moment, certain of what he wants, and toys at the elastic, running his fingers beneath it teasingly, daring to search only the smallest bit further.

Enough stalling; he grasps the waist of Tsuzuki's boxers and slides them down, slipping them off just as fluidly as he had with everything else. But what comes now? It isn't as if Hisoka doesn't know the answer, but his only first-hand knowledge of this comes from a very unpleasant source. All he remembers from that time is pain and fear. How can he escape that...?

Tsuzuki registers this unease all too easily, reaching out to lift Hisoka's chin to meet his own tender gaze. "Someone looks a little lost..." he whispers, smiling kindly. "Why don't I take over for a while?"

Powerful arms wrap around Hisoka completely and pull him down on the bed. Before he can even think to protest, their positions have been reversed, and Tsuzuki is staring down at him, with that same caring expression and comforting smile.

Running strong hands slowly down Hisoka's chest, Tsuzuki gently massages the muscles, at first staying near his shoulders and down his arms, but soon moving lower, along his stomach to the groove of his hip bones. Soft, contented groans escape the back of Hisoka's throat, savoring every inch of feeling that soft touch on his skin.

Expertly applied, those hands work themselves lower still, moving under the elastic of Hisoka's boxers, much as what he had experienced himself. Only Tsuzuki slips the fabric down along with his movements, stroking Hisoka's thighs, until removing the underwear all together.

He lowers himself on top of Hisoka then, only slightly, and continues running his hands over every inch of that grown body, while kissing him up and down just as he had been kissed.

This new turnover of power isn't frightening or unwelcome. In fact, Hisoka relishes it, devouring every touch the way his partner would devour a box of chocolate.

Moving lower by the minute, Tsuzuki's teasing lips work their way down, the way his hands had worked their way down. First along Hisoka's chest and stomach, further to his hips, and further still. But before taking the next step, Tsuzuki tilts his head back up, catching Hisoka's gaze, and asking for the final say without saying a word.

Nothing needs to be said now, for the flush of color to Hisoka's face, the longing in his eyes, and the pleading left to hang in the still of silence, is all the consent Tsuzuki needs.

Hisoka's back arches, enveloped by his partner completely, and a small cry releases into the air. This is the moment. This is what he has been waiting for. A feeling to surpass what Muraki did to him. A pleasure so intense, it matches and surpasses what had been forced upon him by leaps and bounds of love over hate, compassion over fear.

This is truly beyond finding himself on even ground with Tsuzuki. This is being a man and still being himself, loved for who he is, and in possession of everything he has ever dreamed of.

The moment passes, left suspended at the height of its peak, and suddenly Tsuzuki is snuggling in close to him, whispering into his ear. "Ai shiteru...my beautiful Hisoka..."

At these sweet words, Hisoka shifts, looking over into those vibrant, violet eyes, and holding onto Tsuzuki with all his remaining strength. Then, turning to take control again, he longs to offer his companion the same thrill of emotion and sensation in whatever ways he can.

The night is dark and dawning, but their moment shall have another, and another, and as many as there needs to be in order to burn out the passion raging tonight, till it lingers in their hearts, leaving their bodies behind to recover.

What more could either of them ask for?

"...ai shiteru...Tsuzuki..."

(...more than anything I have ever known.)


*****A/N*****


Wow. Did I just write that? My first even remotely lime-ish anything! Granted, it had to be tappered to fit into ff.net's new rules, but I think I did pretty good, and I shall forever hold that this is "R" material, not "NC-17" purely through the way it was presented. Hope it turned out okay.

Also, this is not the end! One of you fine reviewers mentioned that these fics usually end after the naughty parts, but this one won't. I'm busy, but this will be finished before the week is out!

By and by, what did you think of the shameless TatxWat plug? Pretty cute, ne? Don't worry, I'm gonna give 'em another one. :-)

Ja! And thankies for such wonderful reviews. Plus, PLEASE REVIEW again!