Thanks for reading! This fic is technically a sequel to Locked On, which focuses on Illumi, but it can be read as a standalone. Everything's really explained in the first chapter. Also, just know reading it that... this is Hisoka. Even if it is a modern AU so he's not quite the twisted murderer he is in canon, he's still like, pretty messed up.


"Motherfucker!"

"Kalluto, if you swear again, I will—"

"Oh shut up, I think that's the least of our problems."

"Onii-chan, do we have to fight?"

"Whatever. I'm out of here." Footsteps pounded down towards the basement.

The chorus of the five Zoldyck human disasters voicing their frustrations whirled through the house like a tornado Hisoka was lucky enough to witness. He grinned, leaning forward from his perch on the island in the kitchen.

"Your clown boyfriend's here," Killua informed Illumi. "I can tell. It smells like his perfume. Come on, Alluka, Kalluto."

Hisoka snorted, swinging his legs. Illumi stomped into the kitchen and opened a cabinet in the same manner as Illumi always did when he was pissed. Calmly, as if each movement was measured to the nanosecond to look normal, like he was fine, everything was fine, he not angry at all. It wound up looking unnatural but that was a quirk of Illumi's Hisoka wasn't eager to encourage him to break. It usually worked in Hisoka's favor to know when he was imagining stomping puppies for fun. "Bored?"

"I spent all day working out," Hisoka reported, hopping down. "For the match next week. Seems like it was easier than therapy."

Illumi closed the cabinet so quietly Hisoka barely heard it. He turned the coffee pot on and grabbed lettuce from the fridge. "I do not understand why Miss Krueger thinks this is going to help us."

"It won't," Hisoka advised, grabbing a carrot and crunching down on it. It felt good, to hear it snap and splinter between his teeth.

"Dr. Yorkshire is not very nice," said Illumi. "We have to remember memories I'd rather not share and talk about them." He dumped lettuce into a bowl.

Hisoka arranged the cherry tomatoes and carrots and cucumbers to resemble a face. The yellow peppers made a perfect star, and the onions a teardrop. "Like what?" Hisoka asked.

"I said I'd rather not share." Illumi scowled. He tapped his fingers on the counter. "But. Killua keeps talking about memories where I—" He clamped his mouth shut.

"If he hates you," said Hisoka. "Why not have fun with it?"

"I want him to love me. I thought he did." Illumi frowned at the salad.

"It's me," Hisoka said.

"I can see that. I'm not having my siblings eat your face."

"How sad," Hisoka remarked as Illumi took tongs to the salad, slashing it around. "I guess that's limited to you."

Illumi nodded. "Exactly."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. Illumi would never cease to entertain him with how such an intelligent person could be so dense.

"My parents are considering plea bargains," Illumi said.

"Yeah, I saw that in the newspaper."

Illumi cocked his head. "Chrollo's? Since when do you read it?"

"Since I want to convince him to spar with me," said Hisoka. Lucilfer had been a companion at the gym since Hisoka's college days, but the man had never fought him. But Hisoka had always been watching, licking his lips, waiting for him to get stronger and stronger and yet have a reason to feel like fighting him. Thanks to Hisoka's helping that Kurta kid try for revenge on Chrollo awhile ago, Chrollo should be sufficiently irritated with Hisoka.

"Don't be a fool," said Illumi. "Don't start a fight you can't win."

"Who told you that?" asked Hisoka, popping a tomato in his mouth. The acid exploded. "Your parents?"

Illumi lowered his head.

"I'll win," Hisoka said. "Or die trying."

Illumi cast him a withering look.

"Hey, Illumi!" called Killua's voice. "Gon and Mito invited me over for dinner, okay? He said I can bring Alluka, too."

Gon, having recovered from his injuries, had returned to living with his aunt, but the woman had moved to Yorkshin. A nice woman, if not particularly interesting. Plus Kurta Rage Machine and Wannabe Doctor had moved into an apartment Leorio managed to procure with Illumi's help. And by help, Hisoka presumed guilt and desire to win Killua back over.

Illumi blew out his breath. "I'd rather you didn't. I want to talk to you, Kalluto, and Alluka about school."

"Can't we do it tomorrow—"

"I said no, Kil!"

Killua's jaw dropped. "Figures you'd go right back to being—"

Illumi peered down at him. "Aren't you one to talk? Who's being manipulative now, Kil?"

Killua's eyes popped as if Illumi had dumped boiling oil onto him. He turned and pounded up the stairs.

"I wasn't wrong," Illumi stated, watching him go.

"Harsh, but not wrong," Hisoka concurred. What the hell happened in therapy? Oh to be a fly on the wall in that session. He could just picture all the Zoldyck siblings trying to both kill each other, dump salt on their wounds, and also trying to bind up gashes and splint broken parts at the same time. It would have enough angst and drama to make him—

Illumi frowned. "Are you going to stay?"

"Is that an I want you to go?" Hisoka questioned. If so, he'd just sneak back into Illumi's room via his bedroom window. The idiot never locked it.

"I don't care." Illumi carried the salad to the table. "The therapist wants us to have family dinners."

"You pretty much have been anyways." Hisoka decided to take that as a stay. Mostly because he was curious himself about how dinner would go with five moody Zoldycks. Well, four moody Zoldycks, plus Alluka, who really was the most even-tempered one despite her supposed mental illness.

"Yes, but now it's required and if I don't make them then I could lose them." Illumi pressed his lips together.

Kalluto literally crossed his arms the entire meal. Killua stabbed tomatoes like he was stabbing eyes, Milluki complained about the lack of croutons, and Alluka asked Hisoka to show her another magic trick. At least one of them got him.

"Didn't you want to talk about school?" Killua asked, looking at Illumi. "Or was that an excuse?"

"When she said to call each other on bad behavior, I believe that included you," said Illumi. "You're exhibiting—"

Alluka squeaked, clapping her hands over her ears.

Kalluto glowered at them all. "I overheard you talking to Bisky," he said. "You're sending us to public school."

"Gon gets to go too," Illumi said, refusing to meet Killua's eyes.

Oooh. Hisoka pursed his lips. That could be interesting. He imagined Illumi peering in through the windows, using binoculars until he got banned from the school. It would not be out of character.

Killua tipped back in his chair. "Sounds good to me."

"School?" Alluka squeaked. She bit down on her fork. "But I—"

"I've talked to the administrators," Illumi said. "Or, Miss Krueger has."

"What about Kurapika?" asked Kalluto.

"He has his GED," said Killua. "Leorio and him are starting college."

"Kalluto," said Illumi, turning to his youngest brother. "You and Alluka are in the middle school. Please take care of—each other."

"And I'm in high school," said Killua. "Cool. Freshman."

"Your scores indicate you can be a junior—"

"No, I want to be with Gon. And not rush things like Mom and Dad would've had me do." Killua stuffed more lettuce dripping in dressing into his mouth.

"Fine."

"Oh, this is going to be good," Milluki exulted.

When dinner's over, Illumi makes Milluki clean up. He frowned at Hisoka. "Are you staying the night or not?"

Hisoka eyed Illumi's long dark hair, dangling to his waist. "If you're offering to fuck, why not?"

"I'm too tired." Illumi turned and headed up the stairs.

Hisoka paused. Damn. He'd been looking forward to that all day. It was almost as if the therapist was a fun vampire who drained all the life out of Illumi. But that was okay. This might prove amusing for Hisoka as well. He could record Illumi's melancholy just like before. He had over a thousand subscribers on his channel, which was called boneheadedboner and consisted entirely of dumbass things Illumi would say and do.

He jogged up the stairs and found Illumi sitting back on his bed, pulling out a book. Illumi tilted his head up. "I thought you were going home."

"When have I ever been predictable?" Hisoka slipped onto the bed, next to Illumi.

"I'm not in the mood."

"I wasn't trying to seduce you. I can't help it if my mere presence oozes sex appeal."

Illumi rolled his huge eyes. He shut the book. "If my parents take the plea bargain, they'll avoid prison for child abuse." His voice shook.

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't want them in prison," said Illumi. "But I want them to leave us alone. And Bisky wants us to take in Mike, the dog—I don't know—and apparently if they go to trial they'll just say I should be in prison too. They might convince Kil."

"I doubt it," said Hisoka. "I saw them slap you." Prison sounded like the dullest experience ever. He'd rather not, personally.

Illumi rubbed his thumbs over the corners of his book. He exhaled. Hisoka leaned back against the pillows, tossing some of his cards in the air and catching them. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually Illumi's hand snaked out and he caught a card.

"Oh?" Hisoka arched a brow.

"Let's play," said Illumi.

Hisoka sat up. "What game?"

"I don't care."

After Hisoka won two rounds of Speed, Illumi beat him in Gin, and then they played an endless game of war until Illumi eventually pointed out that it was one am and they had things to do in the morning.

It wasn't until Hisoka woke up at three in the morning, Illumi sleeping daintily curled up next to him, that he realized he'd forgotten to record his boyfriend.


Is this Hisoka?

Hisoka frowned at his phone as he stepped out of the shower. Chrollo had refused to spar with him again. He contemplated texting a nude of himself but simply responded, who's asking?

Hi Hisoka! It's Gon Freecss.

Well, thank whatever he didn't send that pic. Hisoka rolled his eyes.

Killua wanted me to ask you to make Illumi not walk them into school their first day.

Hisoka guffawed. Of course Illumi would do that. Of course he would. Sorry, but Killua can ask his brother himself. I believe that's what his therapist would say. ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

He's too scared to. He doesn't want Illumi to hate him.

Gon was going to get himself killed at some point with his stupid honesty. His pluck though—if he could only focus on that, he could grow into a very interesting human being. Hisoka wondered what the best option would be. He opted to screenshot the conversation and send it to Illumi.

WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? ? ? ? Gon's message came later that night.

I did what you requested, Hisoka responded.

"I just want to make sure it's a safe place for them!" Illumi protested the night before school started. "That's all."

Hisoka shrugged. He took a sip of beer. Chrollo still hadn't texted him back. Bastard.

If you text me one more time I swear I'm going to mace you next time I see you I am not Chrollo's keeper okay? Machi yelled earlier.

"At least Killua doesn't want me to hate him," Illumi mused, tapping his chin. "Though that he thinks I could—does he think I'm just like Dad?" He looked crestfallen. "But I'd embarrass him… he used to be proud to be with me."

"Was he?" Hisoka asked. "Or were you just proud to be with him?"

"I don't need another therapy session, Hisoka. Try it and I'll kill you."

Ahh, spicy Illumi. Hisoka's favorite, because spicy Illumi was seldom spicy in the same precise way. The zest was always slightly different. Hisoka pinned Illumi's arms above his head. "I'd like to see you try." If he couldn't fight Chrollo, at least he could fuck Illumi.

Illumi grabbed him by the neck, yanking him down. His teeth scraped Hisoka's lip. He kissed him like he was afraid, with a desperation to how mouth lips worked Hisoka's. An interesting flavor. Hisoka hadn't tasted that since the first time they had sex.

The next morning, Hisoka woke up to find Illumi already gone, along with everyone except Milluki. A text appeared on his phone. From Gon. You failed. :(

Ah, good. Gon's pluck. Hisoka headed to the gym. He had that fight with Kastro coming up, a rematch, and he did not intend to lose. And he wouldn't, no matter how bitter Kastro was at the only defeat he'd ever received. Because winning was all Hisoka knew how to do.

"Is Illumi off being Mr. Mom?" called Shalnark.

"He's off somewhere," Hisoka answered, changing. He set his water bottle down.

"Well, you're in luck today," Shalnark informed him.

"Really? I find it more fun to fight bad luck," Hisoka taunted. Shalnark looked like a twelve year old and he was annoying Hisoka today.

"How about fighting me?" Chrollo's voice drawled.

Oh? Well, this was interesting. Hisoka cocked his head as he spun around.

"I've got nothing better to do today, now that the Zoldyck family drama is starting to reach oversaturation," Chrollo said, tossing his hair. "No one wants to hear about it anymore."

"Shame." Hisoka suspected Illumi would be relieved. And hey, it hadn't killed him yet. He grabbed his water bottle and drank.

Chrollo's stupid underground newspaper was the bane of Yorknew's existence. Hisoka joined temporarily in college, but only to annoy Chrollo enough so that Chrollo would want to try to come for him someday. Except he couldn't. No one knew anything about Hisoka Morow and he intended to keep it that way.

Also, Chrollo was hot. Hisoka eyed him up and down.

"I should warn you," said Chrollo as they got onto the gym floor. "I don't fight unless I know I can win."

"Then this should be fascinating," Hisoka returned. "And good practice for Kastro." Actually, after this, Kastro would be a breeze. Like a dessert.

"You know," Chrollo said, rolling his neck. "I'm surprised you're still with Illumi. I would've thought he'd get boring, especially if he's getting into therapy and all."

Well, Illumi wasn't boring, and Hisoka wasn't sure who was more surprised by that, Chrollo, Illumi, or himself. He made contact with Chrollo's jaw. A loud crack echoed. The man stumbled back.

Chrollo couldn't win. Hisoka didn't know why he was trying, but he didn't care. At the very least Chrollo would be fun.

His throat felt parched. Hisoka shrugged it off. It wouldn't take long to defeat him.

Except, then Chrollo landed a hit on him, and Hisoka felt like his head was floating. He shook his head.

"You should watch where you put your water," Chrollo said. His voice sounded as if it was dissolving.

"You're an idiot," Hisoka said. And a cheater. Not that he was surprised. He didn't think.

"I told you," Chrollo said. "I don't lose. Do you still want to continue?"

"I'm not surrendering to the likes of you," Hisoka responded. His voice sounded strange. Slurred.

"How very interesting," Chrollo mocked.


His jaw ached. And his arm. His head felt like someone hit him with hammer on the back of his skull.

"Oh, you're awake," said a voice. Machi.

The fuck happened?

I lost?

He didn't remember a single thing beyond Chrollo's taunt. He drugged me? What a cockroach. And a loser.

Except he was the one who lost, and he was not amused.

"Hey," said a voice above him. Hisoka squinted. Fucking bright lights.

That stupid old man who spent hours running on the treadmill in too-short shorts stood above him. He was a doctor, supposedly. Isaac Netero.

"I got him to make sure you wouldn't die," Machi said. "You're welcome, Idiot."

"Your shoulder was dislocated, but I popped it back in place," Netero informed him. "I suspect your wrist is fractured, too. You should see about getting a splint. And you should wait at least six weeks before—"

Hisoka rolled his eyes. Six weeks? Not happening. He had that match with Kastro and he wasn't letting fucking Chrollo's dirty tricks keep him from defending his title against that pathetic L'Oreal model.

"I told you not to mess with Chrollo," Machi told him when Netero left. "I hope you learned your lesson." She rose, dressed in her nurse's scrubs.

"On the contrary," Hisoka managed. Damn, his throat hurt too. "I'm going to make Chrollo pay for this. And Shalnark. And any of you bastards."

Machi whirled around, pink hair flying. She glared at him.

"Oh, and I will be competing, if you idiot boss wants to write about that," Hisoka added, dragging himself to his feet. Netero hadn't mentioned his ankle but something was definitely twisted there. "And tell him if he writes anything about this, I'll destroy his little paper until he has nothing left."

"Didn't you just—" Machi started, but Hisoka stalked past her. "Hey, wait! You wanted to fight—you never fight fair; you have no right to—"

Hisoka ignored her. Driving with a busted ankle could be interesting. And hey. Losing was new too, though not an experience he particularly liked. Or liked at all. I'm better than this. I am. I am. I am. Chrollo had to drug him to defeat him; didn't that prove just how strong he was? He wasn't weak, and he wasn't some vulnerable person clinging to his stolen information and written words to make his life feel like it had a sliver of meaning. Because it didn't. It was just about what he could get. And he'd been looking forward to this forever, and Chrollo stole his ability to even fucking remember what happened.

I'm going to get you, Chrollo, and everything you enjoy.

His phone rang. Illumi.

Hisoka ignored it.