Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, nor the song that inspired this fic.
Note: So, the live version of Tori Amos's "Sugar" inspired this fic. The song is actually much harsher, and fits more from Hisoka's point of view, but while I was listening to it I imagined "Sugar" being used a nickname, and Eria challenged me awhile ago to write something that's powerful and meaningful but not as soul-crushingly sad as my other stuff, so. Here we go. Since it's THIS fandom, angst cannot be escaped, but I hope to make something a little sweeter (pardon the pun, lol) than, say, Oni no Ko.
This takes place on the Valentine's Day after Cloth and Barbed Wire (that would be the same date as the Valentine's Day special in Book 8, but that plot does not occur here). The themes from CaBW are carried over into this story, so it would probably be a good idea to have read that one first. Warnings for bondage.
Thanks first has to go to Eria, whose prompting actually got this fic done; the dedication goes to my wonderful girlfriend theeternalnoob. Happy Valentine's Day!
Sugar
Tsuzuki hadn't really considered the prospect of nicknames until Watari brought it up. After two years of calling each other by the names they'd introduced themselves as, and several years of not forming relationships deep and lasting enough to get to the "pet names" stage, calling each other anything besides "Tsuzuki" and "Hisoka" just hadn't come to mind.
"Obviously it's none of our business, but you just sound so business-like with each other," Watari said. "It still feels like we're waiting for you to get together."
Tsuzuki assured him, with a laugh, that they were most definitely not, that he and Hisoka were established in their romantic relationship, but Watari's misguided assessment lingered for the rest of the day, leaving him wondering if he had a point.
Tsuzuki automatically excused Hisoka from any implication that the dearth of nicknames had. It simply wasn't in his nature to address anyone like that, not even a lover. The closest he came to playing with Tsuzuki's name was a tired "Tsu-…", aborted mid-word as he fell involuntarily into sleep. The fact that Hisoka used his family name instead of his given one was also a non-issue; Tsuzuki had asked him to do so.
Initially Tsuzuki tried to excuse himself, reasoning that Hisoka probably wouldn't appreciate a nickname applied to him, but that line of thought rang hollow. He should at least try, or have one that he would use only mentally, on one of the times when he happened to glance over at his partner and feel a sudden but unsurprising shot of happiness.
Coming up with a nickname was another story. Since he wasn't going to use terms of endearment freely, he had to pick a good one, one that if he accidentally said it out loud, he could explain it to Hisoka without feeling (totally) foolish. He began compiling lists under the pretense of catching up on paperwork, crossing this one out for being too feminine, that one out for being infantilizing, and those ones for just not feeling right.
"You're thinking too hard," Hisoka said as he walked back into their office.
"I'll have you know I think very hard, and at least fairly often," Tsuzuki responded, with a playful pout.
"Not at the office, you don't. It's freaking me out. What are you even doing over there?"
"Nothing." In a misguided attempt to avoid further suspicion, Tsuzuki scribbled out the rest of the words on the page.
Hisoka raised his eyebrows but decided not to pursue the topic. "Here." Tsuzuki caught the package of some confectionary delight from the vending machine that Hisoka tossed to him without looking up; the force and trajectory of whatever Hisoka threw at him was rather predictable. "Happy Valentine's Day."
Tsuzuki laughed. "So White Day's my responsibility, I guess?" Hisoka shrugged; Tsuzuki thought he caught some embarrassment in Hisoka's face, making him grin. "Thank you for the snack, Hisoka."
"I feel like your enabler."
"I do love my sugar," Tsuzuki said, almost giddily unwrapping the pastry.
"Why?"
Tsuzuki stopped with his snack halfway to his mouth. He knew Hisoka's question was facetious, but the answer was anything but. For a second his instincts told him to laugh it off, but the promise he'd made himself to not hide anything important from Hisoka chased his initial reaction away.
"You…you get this image in your head when you're a kid, of what demons are supposed to be like. There's the big stuff: mass murderers, sowers of discord, enemies of God, that kind of thing…but then it gets to a point where you pit everything you consider good against this image you have of a demon. And there's no self-respecting demon that eats their weight in candy every day. You'd think they'd spontaneously burst into flames at the sight of a daifuku. I guess in that way, liking sugar was the…evidence, I suppose. That I wasn't one of them."
Tsuzuki shifted the weight in his fingers, hearing the plastic that encased the lower half of his snack crinkle underneath the pressure. Hisoka was quiet, holding his breath.
"And, you know, sometimes you just like things," Tsuzuki continued, his voice light again. "Like the way you like books. Sugar is just good by design. It makes me happy."
He chomped down on the pastry, relishing the sweetness, chewing slowly and swallowing almost reverently. Hisoka audibly exhaled, before crossing the room to lay his arms around Tsuzuki's neck. Tsuzuki snaked an arm around Hisoka's side and pulled him down into his lap, setting his snack on the desk as he wrapped his other arm around his partner.
"Can I just carry you home like this? You're surprisingly warm today…" The weather was cold and threatening snow; usually Hisoka would have spent the day shivering.
"I have a feeling that wouldn't go over too well."
"Killjoy." Tsuzuki pushed his head into Hisoka's side before letting it rest lightly there. "Please?"
"No," Hisoka said, sounding rather like an adult amused with a precocious child.
"Please?"
"No," Hisoka said, remaining doggedly unmoved by Tsuzuki's pout. "Don't even think about it," Hisoka muttered through clenched teeth as Tsuzuki ran a hand up his side, fingers flexing threateningly. Silently he cursed having sensitive skin.
"Well I need some compensation…" Tsuzuki said, continuing to tease Hisoka with the threat of tickling.
"I got your compensation right here," Hisoka growled, making no move to back up his words. Tsuzuki finally stopped his hand halfway up Hisoka's rib cage, deciding instead to squeeze his partner to him. Hisoka complied, sullenness fading away as he tightened his own hold.
"Can we go home soon?" Tsuzuki muttered, his face half-buried in Hisoka's shoulder. "I feel like we've been here forever."
Hisoka glanced towards the clock. "Half hour." He tried to slide off Tsuzuki's lap, only to be met with stubborn resistance. "You have to let me go at some point."
"Don't wanna."
"Too bad." Hisoka finally managed to push and squirm his way out of Tsuzuki's grasp. He turned to face his partner, allowing Tsuzuki to put his hands on the small of his back, loosely held together by interlocked fingers. "Thirty minutes. You're a grown-up, you can handle that."
Tsuzuki did, just barely. When the thirty minutes were up he had his hand in Hisoka's and was gently yet insistently pulling him to his feet. They didn't walk especially quickly, though there seemed to be a sort of drive in Tsuzuki's step, one that explained itself once they were safely back at Tsuzuki's apartment, when Tsuzuki sloughed off his coat immediately and, unbidden, helped Hisoka out of his.
"There," Tsuzuki said with a satisfied lilt once he was done, drawing Hisoka back into his arms. "That's more like it."
"You're clingy today," Hisoka said, now no longer trying to break free. His tone changed to one of concern, still slightly laced with nonchalance due to years of habit. "Did something happen?"
"Not really." Tsuzuki rested his chin atop Hisoka's head. "I'm just a clingy person."
"I noticed," Hisoka said dryly, feeling self-aware enough to know that he was, as well.
"And, you know, today is kind of a holiday specifically aimed at couples…"
"I didn't forget." Hisoka leaned his head back so it rested on Tsuzuki's chest. "You want dinner?"
"Not yet," Tsuzuki said, surprising both of them. "I want to…" he trailed off as he rested his head lightly on Hisoka's shoulder and pulled Hisoka closer against him; the movement pushed Hisoka's shirt up slightly, and Tsuzuki's fingers only half-inadvertently brushed against his skin.
Hisoka turned his head, letting his lips touch Tsuzuki's forehead. Tsuzuki lifted his head slowly, inhaling the scent of Hisoka's neck and hair; one of his hands followed suite, leaving a subtle chill in the path it left on Hisoka's torso. Hisoka tilted his head sideways, allowing Tsuzuki to lightly settle his lips against Hisoka's neck and let them linger there for a few seconds.
Two sways and a turn, and Hisoka was facing his partner, still encircled by Tsuzuki's arms. "Is this what you were thinking about so hard earlier?"
"No, but it should have been," Tsuzuki said quickly, under his breath, lowering his arms only to bring them immediately up again, full of Hisoka. Hisoka wrapped his arms and legs around his partner as Tsuzuki stumbled into the bedroom, depositing Hisoka eagerly but gently on the bed before climbing over top him, knees planted squarely on either side of Hisoka's hip bones.
Hisoka reached up to pull Tsuzuki's head down, facilitating the return of Tsuzuki's mouth to his neck as Tsuzuki's fingers hastily tugged off his tie, letting it fall on the mattress beside him, and undid his shirt buttons. He pulled away from Hisoka for a moment to pull off first his and then Hisoka's shirt; the misshapen ball of clothes hit the floor as Tsuzuki grabbed Hisoka's wrists and pinned them against the pillow, returning to letting his mouth explore Hisoka's neck, and face, and shoulders. Hisoka's hands remained thrown up over his head when Tsuzuki fetched the unforgotten tie from beside him and, forcing himself to slow down, tucked the cloth underneath Hisoka's wrists and brought them together as he knotted the tie around them.
They didn't often revert to the actions undertook on Christmas Eve. Maybe because of the holiday, it had taken on an almost ritualistic feeling. They resorted to it after particularly bad cases, after confessions, after nightmares. Tsuzuki watched Hisoka's expression change to one of doubt about Tsuzuki's earlier claim that nothing had happened.
"I swear, nothing's bothering me," Tsuzuki said, gently dragging Hisoka's hands towards the headboard and securing them to the central rung.
"You sure?" Hisoka asked, shifting as Tsuzuki ran his hands down his sides, sending welcome shivers through his body.
"Well, nothing is now, at least," Tsuzuki said with a grin as he occupied himself with undoing Hisoka's jeans. Hisoka snorted, and lifted his lower body to help Tsuzuki finish undressing him. "What, do you want me to be unhappy right at the moment?"
"Yes, Tsuzuki," Hisoka said flatly, as Tsuzuki slid off the bed to remove his own slacks. "My highest aspiration is to make your life miserable."
"Well," Tsuzuki said, settling back on the mattress to drop a kiss on Hisoka's stomach, "you're failing pretty thoroughly."
"Good…" Hisoka said under his breath, before it audibly hitched in surprise as Tsuzuki's hands ran quickly underneath his legs and suddenly pushed Hisoka's knees up to his chest, bringing Tsuzuki forward so they had eye contact. "You're in a hurry."
"Sorry," Tsuzuki said, resting his forehead against Hisoka's. "I just want you close as soon as possible," he explained, quieter. Hisoka rolled his eyes, an action that had become a wordless "I love you, too" rather than an expression of derision, especially when it was followed by Hisoka tilting his head back to bring their lips together.
Tsuzuki blindly reached out towards the stand beside the bed to search out lubrication, trying to keep them as tightly pressed against each other as he could while he prepared them. Hisoka cringed a bit (each time he did a little less so) at Tsuzuki's fingers, but his expression straightened out and calmed not long after Tsuzuki eased inside him, and he responded instantly when Tsuzuki kissed him again.
One of Tsuzuki's hands found its way to one of Hisoka's legs, sliding up the back of his thigh before locking itself into his knee and pulling it flush against Tsuzuki's body. Tsuzuki hunkered down, pushing slowly further inside Hisoka until he shifted suddenly, gasping. Tsuzuki relaxed for a second, pulling back slightly, before thrusting forward again languidly, allowing anticipation to fill in the holes that a lack of intensity left. As eager as he'd been to get inside Hisoka he was equally determined to savor him, a thought Hisoka picked up on when Tsuzuki did not speed up. That suited Hisoka fine; he preferred it when Tsuzuki exercised his little-known quality of patience. It allowed him time to enjoy Tsuzuki's feelings, to wrap himself up in lovewantneedtakegivegivelove as if it were as tangible as the yellow blanket that occupied a permanent place on Tsuzuki's bed because Hisoka had spent maybe three nights in his own house since Christmas Eve. The feeling of Tsuzuki wanting him, of him wanting Tsuzuki back, was luxurious, especially now that fast/slow violent agony, and the expectation thereof, had been replaced with deliciously unhurried intimacy.
Tsuzuki moved again, pressing in as far as possible without force. Hisoka arched, his fingers wrapping around and gripping the small stretch of cloth between his wrists and the headboard. Tsuzuki heard a soft moan forming in Hisoka's throat and moved, suddenly but not harshly, bringing the sound satisfactorily out into the open air. Hisoka's face flushed pink, and darker when he saw Tsuzuki grin.
"It's embarrassing," Hisoka hissed at him, not sure if he was truly affronted.
"You find the weirdest things embarrassing," Tsuzuki said lightly, squeezing the underside of Hisoka's knee before running his hand down Hisoka's thigh. His hand wriggled underneath Hisoka and pulled him up at an angle, making him gasp out loud at the sudden sensation and blush all the more furiously. "You're so cute when you get all flustered."
Hisoka made a noise of half-hearted derision at the label. The accompanying scornful look steadily faded as Tsuzuki pushed Hisoka up slightly and then released him the same amount. Hisoka felt Tsuzuki's arm shaking with the effort to hold him and tried to help, arching a little to take the pressure off Tsuzuki's hand. Tsuzuki moaned; the movement had taken him a bit further inside Hisoka. He shifted back and held still for a moment before pushing forward, simultaneously pulling Hisoka up again. His mouth sought out Hisoka's neck but didn't stay, instead choosing to wonder across Hisoka's collarbone and shoulders, as he continued the game of pulling and releasing and recapturing his partner.
Hisoka's eyes rolled up before disappearing behind his eyelids. The breath he'd been holding escaped like water gushing from a hole in a dam as waves slapped against it. He sunk into the mattress, almost panting, temporarily spent. Tsuzuki followed him down, soaking up Hisoka's pleasure, chasing after and catching his own before Hisoka could calm his mind enough to separate it fully from Tsuzuki's. The rush of sensation and emotion almost seemed to propel Hisoka upwards, flush against his partner, breathing Tsuzuki's name once, twice, almost a third time before his lungs squeezed and all he could do was bury his face against Tsuzuki's shoulder.
Tsuzuki's fingers were working Hisoka's wrists free by the time Hisoka fell back into normalcy. Hisoka pulled them away when they were unsecured from the rung but still tied together, choosing instead to settle them on the back of Tsuzuki's neck. Tsuzuki smiled at the gesture of trusting affection; he ran his hands up Hisoka's sides and planted a long but chaste kiss on his lips.
"You've still got sugar on your mouth, from earlier," Hisoka murmured. "The taste of it, anyway."
"Nah," Tsuzuki drawled, "I think that's from you."
"How do you figure that?" Hisoka asked, nonplussed. "I don't recall any part of my body coming in direct contact with that diabetes-inducing thing you had earlier."
Tsuzuki laughed. "Why Hisoka, every moment I spend with you is like living in a bakery."
"You are so corny," Hisoka muttered, mentally kicking himself that he hadn't had enough presence of mind to catch the metaphor immediately.
"The smell of frosting follows you wherever you go, when you stand up you leave crumbs on the seat…"
"Oh, be quiet."
Tsuzuki grinned; it faded into a smaller but still genuine smile as he rested his head against Hisoka's neck, under his chin. "Can I at least say that the experience is similar?"
"Leave it to you to compare our relationship to a food-processing facility."
"Well it's not that hard," Tsuzuki said, pretending at being wounded. "I love sugar. I love our relationship. So, there you go."
"Uh-huh. If you find my eyes, it's because I rolled them so hard they fell out of my head."
Tsuzuki snorted. He pushed himself up to get a look at Hisoka's face; it was trying valiantly to hide his amusement. Tsuzuki leaned down for another kiss, banishing the conflict in Hisoka's expression; when he pulled away the look of peaceful contentment had graced Hisoka's features. Tsuzuki noted, a small surge of pride living alongside happiness, that he'd seen that expression on Hisoka's face more times since Christmas Eve than in the past two years.
"Yeah, you're definitely the source," Tsuzuki said, sliding his arms underneath Hisoka.
"So no matter what, I can't escape my enabler status," Hisoka said, with a groan lying somewhere between solemn and teasing.
"Well, like I said," Tsuzuki said quietly, touching his forehead to Hisoka's. "I do love my Sugar."
Hisoka was still for a moment, before a corner of his mouth tilted up into a comprehending smile. "Why?"
"Because Sugar makes me happy."
Hisoka craned his neck up slightly, letting his lips just barely touch Tsuzuki's.
"Don't call me that at work."
Tsuzuki laughed. "Promise," he murmured, turning the touch into an actual kiss, and relishing the sweetness.