A/N: This came from a meme on LiveJournal where you put your iPod on shuffle, and write a ficlet for the first ten songs that popped up. It can be any fandom, any pairing, whatever you want, but you only have the length of the song to write it. This drabble was done using the song "Read My Mind" by the Killers.
Bizarrely, it was never unnerving. Whenever anyone else was like this (touching him, tracing him, mouth lingering in his tender joints), Hisoka would fight, would pull away, would refuse any sort of pleasure. Because it was never pleasurable; the sudden swirl of emotions hitting him like bullets was never enjoyable, in any circumstance.
Except when it was Tsuzuki.
Tsuzuki could touch his soul and spirit as well as his body. As if the man was reaching into him something tender. Those three words fell from his lips so easily, then finished with, "always." Hisoka tried so hard to hate it, but he never could.
So many different people out there. Drama queens in their torn prom dresses, pretty girls with too much makeup like bruising around their eyes, strong men with overexcited personalities and overactive imaginations. Out of them all, Tsuzuki stood out like a light, a lamp that was guiding him through.
But those hands…
It wasn't fair. Hisoka could feel every touch and every stray thought that fell from that labyrinthian mind; every single pain of that past, every memory of doing this with others, but having it received; and every single "I love you" that had been left unsaid.
In return, Tsuzuki only looked at him with those gorgeous violet eyes and was unseeing of all the monstrosity Hisoka held; he saw a shy boy with cornsilk hair and bright eyes waiting to be met. He saw a soul. Couldn't Tsuzuki see that Hisoka loved him so much that it strangled him in nightmares sometimes? Couldn't the man witness the pure devotion Hisoka held?
Why couldn't Tsuzuki read him as well as he could touch him with those gentle hands?