Disclaimer: I don't own Yami no Matsuei. Sure with I did. But… sadly I don't.
Othela: OK. Trust me on this one, please. Once again, I have a general idea of how I'm getting there, but not EXACTLY where I'm going. If you can put up with that, and my sporadic updates, please read on, and do my best not to disappoint you!
Warnings: Yaoi, torture, mind games, insanity… the usual good stuff. You know you like it really.
Hisoka's house was cold and empty when Tsuzuki arrived there - as it had been for weeks. It wasn't as if he'd expected anything else, but he still returned anyway - some strange sense of hope pulling him back day after day because maybe this would be the day he came home.
The plants he had given Hisoka had all died - admittedly, Tsuzuki's fault. He had always been able to tell Hisoka had taken care of them as he'd advised, but in distractedly wandering around the house every day watering them, he had managed to kill them all. The flowers that had made Hisoka blush so badly that day had been placed in a vase. They were fresh then, through they shrivelled started to reek days after he had gone… but Tsuzuki couldn't bring himself to throw them away, even then, even when the water turned yellow and mouldy. He couldn't. They were proof he'd been with him that day, that he'd even been there at all. That… he had had every intention of returning, if not to him, then to his own home.
He didn't.
The younger shinigami had left with a promise of food, a warning not to mess up the apartment they (he) had so carefully tidied; and a series of kisses were still tingling on Tsuzuki's lips as he stretched across his sofa. He had tried - desperately tried - not to fall asleep but had done so mere minutes after Hisoka's departure, waking after midnight and way past Hisoka's promised 'less than an hour'. A brief search of the apartment turned up nothing - Hisoka's house had been likewise empty and the initial pricklings of Tsuzuki's worry started to turn into all-out panic.
The panic hadn't abated even two weeks later.
Tsuzuki breathed a sigh. There was nothing to do here. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to go back to work, because although paperwork would provide a distraction if he buried himself in it deeply enough, there would still be the empty seat that would remind him of Hisoka's absence, every time he looked up - the apologetic glances, the wavering reassurances.
He occasionally slept when he was here, lying on Hisoka's bed, staring blankly at the space beside him. But that was rare.
He felt the mattress shift as another weight added to it, the soft graze of lips against his temple as a pair of warm arms circled him. Tsuzuki turned in the embrace with a small smile.
"Stop thinking bad things." Hisoka admonished softly. He rests his forehead against Tsuzuki's, and all of the doubts melt away.
"Yeah… sorry." He pulled Hisoka to his chest without warning and he felt the younger shinigami tense for a moment before relaxing into the hold, his hands moving up to stoke his hair.
"What's wrong?" He murmured into Tsuzuki's shoulder. "Hmm? You're acting strange."
"Nothing." Hisoka's touch was soothing and he sighed shifting so they could both be comfortable. "It's nothing."
It really wasn't.
He couldn't even remember what the problem was in the first place.
Othela: … and that's the start. More to follow soon, I hope.
Please review. Reviews are candy. I like candy.