Warnings? What warnings! If this offends you, too bad. You better not go to my homepage then. (You can find it from my profile though, there's much stuff I've never uploaded here \plug).
Hisoka squirmed in his seat and cursed his luck for about the fiftieth time that day. This whole deal stank, like a dead rat. Or dead anything that gave a real foul smell. As he lifted the teacup to his lips he idly wondered if Watson was dead like the Shinigami, just poorly reanimated. Maybe that could explain his discomfort.
Or it might be the lecherous, perverted, sick old man wearing nothing but gloves and a mask. And Hisoka was truly, immensely grateful that the rest of Hakushaku was invisible even to the Shinigami eye. He didn't want to see. There were limits to even his curiosity, however human that trait was.
"Do have some cookies, Kurosaki," the Count crooned.
"I'd rather not," Hisoka answered, doing his best not to snap and appear uncivil. Whatever else Hakushaku was, he still warranted basic courteousness, if only for his prestigious position. Hisoka knew all about these things. Unlike some stupid cake gobblers getting into debt with such…
"I take it that you'd like to know why it was I invited you here, right?" his host interrupted that thought. "By the way, those cookies are perfectly safe. No potions, no funky herbs. I'd be very heartbroken if you refused," he continued, flapping his eyelashes in a vaguely disturbing, supposedly flirty way.
Hisoka shuddered. Something was definitely off, starting from the fact that it was him, not his dorky partner that was invited for tea at Hakushaku's mansion. But Hisoka wouldn't be Hisoka if he didn't know how to act cool and indifferent, yet still polite as according to protocol. So, with only a very faint shake in his hands, he reached for a cookie (double chocolate chip, Tsuzuki would've loved that…), nibbled a crumb and placed it neatly down to respond. "I would like to know the reason, Hakushaku-sama. It is most unusual."
Great, now he was using the overtly formal speech he was taught back in the days of living. Hisoka scrunched his eyebrows in distaste. That was the way old men spoke. Old men, and some stuck up dudes like one secretary, or alternatively, perverted, twisted sickos like… like present company.
"Then I will get straight to the point," he smirked, probably because he uttered the S word, when there was nothing straight about him.
"…Yes?"
"Well, to be blunt and to the point, I would like to ask, here today, for you to accept my humble proposal." The count smirked even more, like a cat that found the cream.
"Which would be what," Hisoka retorted. This was stupid. This wasn't even funny. He had much better things to do than sip tea with a perverted invisible man. He lifted the teacup again to wash the sticky feel of thick chocolate out of his mouth. Really, he couldn't fathom how anyone would care for such overtly sweet stuff.
"Why, I said it already. My my, I thought you were the smart one, Kurosaki. I am asking you to give me your hand in marriage," the Count leered. Cream found and devoured.
Hisoka felt himself choking on the tea. The liquid stuck to the back of his throat as his reflexes refused to work and his larynx simply froze. A sharp intake of breath, and as the laws of physics dictated, Hisoka's plight only got worse as the tea, caught on its way, rose up his airways and spurted out of his nostrils.
Well, there went dignity, he dully noted.
"WHAT?" Hisoka finally managed to bark, after a very intense coughing fit.
"I asked you to become my lovely wife. It's not like I need one, I just thought it would be handy," Hakushaku explained with all the enthusiasm of a wet blanket.
"And… why me?" was all Hisoka could think of saying. Sure, there were probably hundreds of better ways to respond to such lewdness, but at the moment, Hisoka was surprised he managed even this one. Not that he didn't regret it the next moment, when the beautiful option of running the hell out there finally popped into his brain. Alas, it was too late for that by then.
"Why, I have finally come to realise that my dear Tsuzuki-san won't reciprocate my feelings. To be honest, he's given me quite a cold shoulder lately. Also, after observing him for all these years I've come to the conclusion that he is completely not suited for being a noble wife. Us aristocrats must marry our kind wouldn't you agree? So far I know you have the perfect background, and as a wife you'd be perfectly presentable." Not to mention that it was a time-honoured technique, getting to Tsuzuki's pants through Hisoka. This was conveniently dropped off the explanation. Besides, Muraki had gone about it so tastelessly! Really, Hakushaku knew better than to enrage Tsuzuki.
The Count sure could talk, machine-gun style. All that exposition, and he barely breathed in between! Hisoka tried to make some sense of the flood, and slowly it began to combine into something meaningful. Except that he still didn't get it.
"I see you're overwhelmed," Hakushaku pointed the obvious. "As my wife I expect faster comebacks, of course, but for now I'll let that slip. See, I'm a generous guy," he leered and reached with one gloved hand to pat Hisoka's petrified arm.
Hisoka snapped out of his shock and straight into calm, unruffled poise. Then again that could be part of the shock too.
"Excuse me, but do you honestly expect me to be anybody's wife? First of all, I'm not a woman, those Hokkaido girls can stuff their dresses. Second, ---" he began when he was halted by a hand raised with natural authority. Wonders never sees, Hisoka mulled it over, old pervert has some redeeming qualities.
"I know. If you'd rather be called my spouse I won't object. However, for your relief, I won't be expecting monogamy. You'd be just as free to take a lover as I would. And as is befitting for a married couple, you won't even need to perform any sexual favours for me," Hakushaku explained. And you probably won't count chaining me to a sofa and dragging me on a leash as sexual anyways, he added in his twisted little mind.
That was a relief indeed for poor Hisoka, who now had his mouth gaping as if trying to catch flies (not a good method, he noted). For a quick walkthrough of what went on in Hisoka's head, let us recap.
"Spouse, whatever, I'm not… Monogamy? Lovers??! Whew, so no sex with Hakushaku. …am not going to think strange glowing cones, am not… dammit."
Now that we scrambled through Hisoka's head, let's hear what actually came out of his mouth.
"So, what's in it for me?"
A collective gasp here, please.
Hakushaku's smile widened to impressive proportions, rivalling Hisoka's eyes for total percentage of face area covered. "Why, I wouldn't be a Count if I didn't have something extraordinary to offer. How about," he paused to munch on a cookie, for a small eternity. "…there's one candle in this mansion that's been a bane of JuOhCho. One that has been causing multiple serial murders, odd supernatural activity, things like that. I'm sure you know who I'm referring to," he stopped and sipped his tea.
Muraki. Yes, that was good bait. Hisoka couldn't help getting pulled hook, line and sinker.
"Only two questions then if I may, Hakushaku-sama. First, may I think about it?" Receiving a nod, Hisoka continued. "…And could I personally snuff that candle?"
Reviews are welcome. Especially if you want me to continue. Personally I'm not so sure. It seems okay to leave here. Then again, it could be fun to write the reactions of Tsuzuki, Tatsumi et cetera.
What do you think?