Maybe
---
His hair hangs in his eyes; green under pale browns and soft, hidden blondes. Tsuzuki rarely allows him hiding, but still, Hisoka's bangs stray across his face.
"Asa-"
He always stops himself. Tsuzuki pauses, fingers still brushing through the boy's hair.
"Asato..."
His knees and his words get weak when the older man does these things; little, nothing things, that make sugar seem sour in comparison.
For some time, Tsuzuki has known why it has been worth it, in the end. This life. "Hisoka?"
The boy's confessions go fleeing, "Maybe I should get a haircut."
Asato smiles, "Not just yet."