Title: Little Sin
Summary: The seven deadly sins are those transgressions which are fatal to spiritual progress. Tsusoka
Series: Yami no Matsuei
Pairing: TsuzukixHisoka
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sex, allusions to rape
Word Count: 300 each
progression of pride
When Hisoka was ten, he wasn't sure what pride was.
He knew that because he was a Kurosaki, he was supposed to have mounds of it. It meant that he wasn't supposed to cry, even when he was shut away from everyone and it was raining and he was so lonely he could physically feel it. Kurosaki men did not cry. He knew this, and kept secret the times when his pride failed him.
When Hisoka was thirteen, his pride was ripped away from him.
Rape wasn't supposed to happen to high class families, to people of the Kurosaki lineage, and certainly not to men. So when the silver man tore his clothing off and shoved him to the ground, Hisoka knew his pride could not save him. Even through the blood and pain and tears, Hisoka knew that the silver man had stolen his pride and he wouldn't get it back until he died.
When Hisoka was sixteen, he died and regained his pride slowly.
Tsuzuki had said he was too proud, but Hisoka clung to his pride like a security blanket. Of everything that had been taken away from him, his pride was the only thing he had gotten back. But he understood that Tsuzuki couldn't always play second best to an emotion, so sometimes he pushed his pride away and clung to Tsuzuki instead.
When Hisoka was twenty-five (but still sixteen), he gave up his pride.
He gave it up to Tsuzuki, who took it and treated it kindly and did not steal it away from him. Everyone else thought it was still Hisoka's, but Hisoka knew better. Tsuzuki owned his pride and his heart and his mind. Tsuzuki owned Hisoka himself, and the best thing Tsuzuki could ever do was keep him and cherish him forever.
---
examples of envy
"You're really good at drawing 'fuda," Hisoka said over Tsuzuki's shoulder.
"Mm?" Tsuzuki replied, turning away from the brush and thick paper.
Hisoka didn't reply at first, staring at the ofuda with an odd expression, his eyebrows twitching the way they did when Hisoka was trying not to blush. He repeated, "You're good at that. I wish I was."
Tsuzuki could read the envy on Hisoka's voice, tart and pungent to his ears. He wanted to take Hisoka's hand and deny it all. Deny that he had any worth for someone like Hisoka to look at and admire. He wanted to look into Hisoka's eyes and rattle off all the things he envied about Hisoka: the way he snarled without meaning it; the way he saved Tsuzuki doughnuts in the mornings when Tsuzuki was late; the way he could read and talk at the same time.
It would be strange if Hisoka knew that Tsuzuki liked the way he chewed on his pen caps when he was thinking hard, or how he was a neat-freak with everything but his books, which lay scattered around his house like dust-bunnies, or how he liked the look of argyle but not plaid. It would cross a barrier that Tsuzuki wasn't ready to break down just yet.
And even though he rarely did it, Tsuzuki envied the way Hisoka could smile and actually mean it. Tsuzuki only meant it with Hisoka anymore, and he knew he couldn't stand it if Hisoka left and took with him Tsuzuki's ability to really smile.
Tsuzuki knew he couldn't say those things. So he replied with a half-laugh, "Hisoka, there's nothing to admire about silly old me!"
Hisoka did blush now, though his expression didn't change. He looked down.
"I don't think that," he said.
---
wiles of wrath
Hisoka shot up in his bed, shaking and gasping and clinging to his covers for comfort. They weren't good enough: like him, they were damp with rapidly cooling sweat. He needed something warm.
His hands were shaking, but he was still able to work the phone properly. When he was finished, he brought it down with a sharp clang that sounded off in the silence of the room.
Flashes of his dream whirled about in his mind, and Hisoka took deep breaths just to keep from thinking about them. He wasn't afraid. He was in Meifu, in his own room, in his own bed, and Muraki couldn't touch him here. Muraki didn't want him anyway. He wasn't afraid.
He was angry. It was so long after the fact, and Muraki still taunted him. The memory of it tricked and toyed and teased him in his mind, appearing when Hisoka least expected it, when Hisoka was sure he had gotten past it. He wanted to find Muraki and bash his head into the cement, shoot him full of holes, cut him deep and leave him to die of blood loss, see how he liked it--!
He couldn't stop shaking. Maybe he was scared.
Large warm hands covered his gently. Hisoka looked up and saw Tsuzuki's concerned face.
"I hate him," Hisoka whispered. His eyes were dry and he shivered. "I hate him so much." Why won't he leave me alone, Tsuzuki, I'm scared.
"I do, too," Tsuzuki replied. "But I'm here." I dream about him, too, Hisoka. You're not alone. He scares me, too. And I hate him.
"Will you...?"
"I'll stay."
It was hard to focus on the rage when Tsuzuki was there, kindly brushing it away. Hisoka sank into Tsuzuki's embrace with a sigh and shut the memories out.
---
layers of lust
"Love and lust," Hisoka gasped, "are two separate things."
Tsuzuki knew Hisoka was trying to tell him something important – he could hear it in Hisoka's voice, amidst the moans and the quiet, sharp gasps. It was hard to concentrate, however, when Hisoka was right there, all lips and hands and skin. But Hisoka wouldn't like it if he didn't listen.
So, after nibbling his way along Hisoka's neck and down to his collar bone, Tsuzuki made sure to reply.
"Mm?"
"They are intermingled," Hisoka told him, pausing for a moment to kiss him twice on the lips. Tsuzuki crept a warm hand under Hisoka's shirt and Hisoka leaned forward, kissing Tsuzuki along the jawbone and saying, "You can have one without the other, but it's always best to have both. In a romantic relationship, anyway."
The talking stopped for a moment as Tsuzuki took the opportunity to remove Hisoka's shirt. Hisoka straddled him lightly as Tsuzuki ran his hands along Hisoka's bare shoulders.
"It's easy," Hisoka said, gasping as Tsuzuki licked his nipple delicately, and Tsuzuki felt goosebumps rise on Hisoka's skin. Hisoka continued, "Easy to get them confused. They're so similar."
"Not surprising," Tsuzuki said, tugging Hisoka's shoulders down so he could kiss the smaller boy.
"That's why I waited for so long, you know," Hisoka said once they had parted. His faced was flushed, lips parted and red from kissing. He was running his fingers gently along Tsuzuki's neck, tracing random patterns with soft fingertips.
"To make sure I was trustworthy and not just lusty?" Tsuzuki asked, half-joking. He didn't look away, as he might have in the past, and instead kept his eyes locked on Hisoka's pale face.
"No," Hisoka said simply. His eyes looked almost too bright for his face. "To make sure I was."
---
gleams of gluttony
Hisoka knew at once that he had been caught.
He prided himself on not succumbing to the faults that Tsuzuki so often did. He never prattled on about worthless stuff or smiled when he didn't mean it. (Tsuzuki would argue he never smiled at all, but that wasn't the point.) He only rarely came in late to work, and then only with good reason. And he certainly didn't ever hoard sweets with the ferocity of a mother wolf protecting her pups, either.
Until that moment.
"You like it, don't you?" Tsuzuki asked, a smirk peeking at the tips of his lips. Oh, he wanted to gloat. Hisoka could tell.
Hisoka slowly pulled the fork from his mouth, trying very hard not to look like he was savoring the bite. (Which he was.) Unfortunately, Tsuzuki had a higher intelligence than a goldfish addicted to meth and saw right through the act.
"I found it!" Tsuzuki said, the smirk turning into a huge grin as he sat back. "You like sour things! Not too sour 'cause then it gets to be too much, but sour! Sweet and sour! I knew I could make you like dessert!"
Hisoka glared, wishing fiercely that he had never allowed Tsuzuki to order him dessert while he went to the bathroom. He had assumed, from his past instances with Tsuzuki, that Tsuzuki would order about five desserts for himself and then give one to Hisoka. (Usually, Hisoka didn't like it and Tsuzuki got to eat it. Win-win situation, because Hisoka wasn't often hungry enough to eat a full dessert.)
He looked at his plate, evaluating which was more important: his pride or his mouth.
It took about ten seconds to decide.
He made a face at Tsuzuki and defiantly took another bite of his lemon meringue pie.
---
signs of sloth
Sometimes Tsuzuki is lazy.
He likes to lie in bed, warm and fitted under the covers. It doesn't matter what time it is: it could be one at night or one in the afternoon, and Tsuzuki would still snuggle comfortably amidst the comforter and the pillows. It is warm and safe there, and sometimes Tsuzuki daydreams about a time long ago, lying in Ruka's arms while she hummed a lullaby.
This does not mean that Tsuzuki likes sleep. Sleep is the bringer of nightmares, of fears hidden deep in the vestiges of his mind. That is why Tsuzuki likes catnaps the best; they are too short for nightmares, but with all the time in the world for that wonderful feeling of floating, drifting away from the horror and harshness of reality. It is easier to sneak catnaps in anyway.
Tsuzuki likes napping even better now that Hisoka is there, because Hisoka likes it, too. He won't admit it, but if Tsuzuki falls asleep when he's in the garden with Hisoka, he sometimes wakes up to feel Hisoka tucked into his side, eyes closed and breathing steady. Usually, Hisoka wakes up shortly after that, blushing and stammering something about having to get somewhere, but Tsuzuki has grown apt at providing excuses for Hisoka to stay. More often than not, Hisoka takes them.
Other times, Hisoka doesn't fall asleep, but stays awake and reads as Tsuzuki nods off peacefully with his head in Hisoka's lap. If Hisoka's focused on what he's reading, his hand might find it's way into Tsuzuki's hair and pet, lightly. It's never anything disturbing, nothing more than a warm weight on the top of Tsuzuki's head, which Tsuzuki finds himself oddly missing when it disappears.
Once, Hisoka even hummed softly as Tsuzuki fell asleep.
Tsuzuki likes being lazy.
---
guarantees of greed
"Do you ever spend your paychecks?" Tsuzuki asked one day, from out of nowhere. Hisoka gave him a look.
"Of course I do," he replied with a hint of condescension in his voice. "I have to eat, don't I? And when my clothes get damaged I have to replace them--"
"Other than that," Tsuzuki said. "Do you buy things for yourself at all?"
Hisoka didn't answer at first. He stared at Tsuzuki's desk steadily, knowing that Tsuzuki wasn't even half done with his paperwork and they had to start their new case in less than two hours. There wasn't time for idle chatting, which both of them knew. And Tsuzuki was just trying to distract him. They both knew that, too.
It was also common knowledge between them that Hisoka had been working on his work for the past two hours, even though Tsuzuki dallied. A break was just what Hisoka needed.
Hisoka sighed. Dammit.
"I'm saving."
Tsuzuki didn't seem to have expected that answer. After a moment of awkward silence, Tsuzuki laughed – a snorting sort of giggle – and repeated, "Saving? For what?"
"I don't know," muttered Hisoka, unable to believe that he was letting himself get sucked into this pointless conversation. "Nothing, I guess."
"You're saving for nothing?"
"I don't like living from paycheck to paycheck." As Tsuzuki did. It was a casual barb, but a truthful one.
Tsuzuki rolled his eyes. "You just like money," he tossed back, grinning. "You're just a little miser, aren't you, kid?"
Hisoka bristled. "And you're a stupid, poor old man!" He threw a pen at Tsuzuki, which hit him in the shoulder. "Stop distracting me with stupid questions and get your paperwork done!"
"Heh," Tsuzuki murmured as he picked up the pen and bent back over his papers. "Cute little miser."
"Idiot."