Mon Poupee

-imalineimalineimalineimalineimaline-

-Rated for mild language, yaoi, sex, PWP.-

-imalineimalineimalineimalineimaline-

Tsuzuki walked into the building, glancing around at the Western-style interior. It was tastefully decorated, he'd give it that, but he had no idea where he was. Really. No idea. He had found a note on his desk, telling him to come to this address if he ever wanted to see Hisoka again.

And, of course he wanted to see Hisoka, so he came. He rushed over here to see what was wrong. He didn't know that Hisoka was in any trouble. In fact, he probably wasn't. Now Tsuzuki

had a sneaking suspicion that he was trespassing.

Stupid Watari, playing pranks on him again. Well, he really deserved it. After all, he was the one who had stuck a walkie-talkie down the bright-haired scientist's turtleneck, then watched him run around like crazy, trying to find where the sound was coming from. It was hilarious, even though Tatsumi was furious with him.

It was worth it.

He heard someone outside the front door, and knew instantly that he was in trouble. If that wasn't Hisoka, he'd have an extremely hard time figuring out how to explain this. Tsuzuki ran into a room adjoining the one he first came into, staring at what confronted hiim. It was a room full of dolls.

All kinds of dolls. There were Japanese ones, Chinese ones, some that were made of porcelain, some made of wood. They were all very well made, he could tell that much. Some had black hair with green eyes, some blonde with blue eyes.

Glancing behind him, through the door's crack, he could see that the man who had walked inside after him was far too tall to be Hisoka. Ooh, he was going to hurt Watari!!

Stepping forward, he began examining the dolls, all the while thinking of how he was going to get out of there without the other man seeing him. He got a bit too caught up looking at the dolls, however, since he didn't hear the door open and shut behind him, nor did he hear the man walk up behind him.

But he certainly felt the arms circle against his middle. He gasped as he felt hot breath on his neck; as a too-familiar voice whispered in his ear.

"It's so good to see you..." Dr. Kazutaka Muraki purred in the shinigami's ear. "...Tsuzuki-kun."

Tsuzuki gulped, searching the room for an aversion to the doctor's attentions. He glimpsed a table out of the corner of his eye and rushed over to it, breaking Muraki's grip on his waist.

While he looked at the contents of the table, he prayed that the doctor wouldn't follow him. There was nothing interesting on the table; he knew that. The only thing interesting was a beautiful doll with golden-orange hair and large, blue eyes. The craftmanship was stunning, but it was marred by a large crack running the length of the doll's torso.

Muraki walked up behind him, much to his incredible displeasure. But the doctor merely lifted the doll off the table, holding it almost tenderly.

"Such a shame..." he said, "that the doll was marred. Funny, though. It was fine for the longest time, sitting up there on the shelf." He paused, seeming to wait for Tsuzuki to say something.

So he did. "And what happened to it?" he prompted, searching helplessly for a way to escape.

"I don't know," Muraki said, "I just came in one day, and she was on the floor, with that large crack." Tsuzuki shuddered, hating the way Muraki talked about the doll. He made it sound like a living person. It frightened him.

The nutty doctor gingerly put the doll down, careful not to widen the crack any further. Tsuzuki glanced at the doll, admiring how beautiful it was, with it's flawless complexion and blank eyes. "What are you thinking about, Tsuzuki-kun?" Muraki asked, taking a step forward. Tsuzuki took a step back, then another, tracing his way around the rectangular table.

"J-just the way that the doll's eyes seem kind of sad." he answered hastily. Muraki's lecherous smile slipped for a moment as he turned to look at the doll again.

"Yes..." he said, reaching out to touch it's hair. "She is sad. And lonely. She's not meant to be in here." Tsuzuki didn't have the guts to ask why. Something in the doctor's tone held hidden messages. Then again, everything the doctor said had hidden messag-

"Oh!" he cried out as he was pushed against the wall, Muraki taking advantage of his helpless stage to grab the shinigami's hands and pin them above their heads. Tsuzuki gulped. This wasn't good; he couldn't move, and the doctor was pressing his body against some very tender areas.

Muraki leaned forward and nuzzled Tsuzuki's neck. "It's so thoughtful of you to drop by, Tsuzuki-kun." he purred, nipping gently at the soft flesh of the neck.

Involuntarily, Tsuzuki shuddered. "I-I-It's rude to refuse such a-an invitation..." he replied, trying to sound as diplomatic and calm as Muraki, who paused his ministrations for a short moment.

"It's rude to invite oneself," Muraki retorted suavely, "and then try to dictate what the host is to do." He leaned forward and nipped rather hard on Tsuzuki's neck, feeling the rising pulse in the shinigami.

"A-Ah... I..." he gritted his teeth against what his body was telling him to do and tried to talk once more, "I didn't invite myself." Not good; the words sounded rushed when they came out of his mouth. Despite everything he told himself, everything he knew about Muraki, what the man was doing felt good...

A pale hand snaked downwards, much to the dissatisfaction of his mind. He repeatedly told himself to stop this, but he could feel blood rushing in a downwards motion.

And Muraki wasn't helping it out. He continued questioning the brunette.

"And who did?" he asked, undoing the top button of Tsuzuki's pants. Tsuzuki started to struggle and pull at Muraki's hand holding his arms up, but the doctor's grip was relentless. He groaned, but not from pleasure. He was stuck in every way imaginable, and he didn't like it one bit.

"I don't know." he choked out, as the doctor undid another button, smiling wickedly. Tsuzuki was getting red in the face, blushiing due to the close contact.

Another button. "And why not?" He bit down on Tsuzuki's jawline, eliciting a sharp cry from the latter.

"I-I don't know!" he shouted, wanting nothing more than for the doctor to let him go.

Muraki crushed his lips against Tsuzuki's, a kiss nowhere near Hisoka's, which was gentle and loving. The only thing 'gentle and loving' about him was his kisses. Muraki was demanding, knowing what he was doing to Tsuzuki. Wanting more of the cries escaping from his lips.

Tsuzuki couldn't hold in much longer. He could feel his body reacting in ways it really shouldn't react. Well, it should, but not with Muraki.

Desperately, he tried to tell himself that this was the man who raped and killed his beloved.

...He tried.

He really did.

...But it felt so darn good...

He blushed even further as the last button came undone and Muraki slipped his free hand down.

"Mmmph!!" Tsuzuki cried out in alarm, twisting his head to the side and breaking their kiss.

"What's wrong, Tsuzuki-kun?" Muraki purred huskily. "You seemed to be enjoying it." He was right; he knew it. Smug bastard.

"You killed Hisoka!" Tsuzuki shouted, halfway out of rage and halfway out of desire. Muraki's hand was moving agitatingly slow, and it... Well, it just wasn't fair!

Muraki merely grinned and stopped the torture for the moment. Tsuzuki was torn; his body wanted more of it, but his mind wanted anything but that. At least then, he knew what was going to happen... Now, the doctor seemed to be deciding. Gently, Muraki lifted one of his hands and grabbed Tsuzuki's right hand, lowering the wrist down, taking the watch off. Whatever he was doing, Tsuzuki was almost certain he wasn't going to like it.

He was right. The doctor, with his eyes locked to Tsuzuki's, lifted the wrist to his mouth and licked the scars there. While it was disgusting (along with an invasion of privacy), Tsuzuki's blood raced, shooting through his veins at an incredible rate. Without being able to stop himself, his head lolled back and he let out a loud moan of pleasure. Muraki chuckled, once again taking both wrists into one hand.

"So... You do enjoy it, don't you?" he asked, his breath hot on Tsuzuki's ear. Tsuzuki didn't reply, biting his lip to ensure another outburst didn't come out. Muraki began to suck on his neck again, provoking the flesh, making Tsuzuki shiver. Hearing no response, Muraki began to nip harder.

"Mmmmph..." he moaned, still biting his lip. It was starting to hurt, and he was aching and throbbing in other places that needed attention. Muraki, hearing his half-hearted reaction, bit down a bit harder. Tsuzuki gasped. It was really starting to hurt now...

"Do you enjoy it, Tsuzuki-kun...?" Muraki asked, clearly wanting an answer. Tsuzuki was caught. If he said 'yes', Muraki would continue. If he said 'no, Muraki would continue, but most likely be rougher. It was a bit too far into the act to stop now, though. He could feel his unbuttoned pants straining, and Muraki most likely had the same problem. Embarassing, but he started it...

"Y-yes..." he groaned, his head lolling back once more, but this time because he didn't want to see Muraki's leering face. He waited, but still no relief came, and Muraki pulled away from Tsuzuki's neck. For a split second, to his guilty thoughts, Tsuzuki thought that Muraki had left and he would get no further satisfaction.

But the doctor couldn't have pulled away, as his hands were still pinned above his head. He faced forward again, solely to see what was happening. As soon as he did, Muraki pushed his body closer to Tsuzuki's, crushing him against the wall. It hurt, but excited him at the same time. He was 'kissed' by Muraki, only to have to doctor break the kiss.

He was once again frightened with the thought of being abandoned of his pleasures, but the hand soon regained it's former position. This time, he didn't even bother containing it. He threw his head back and moaned loudly, not particularly caring who heard. He could practically see Muraki's grin. He knew that, while this was good now, he'd eventually finish, and he'd have to repay the favor with Muraki.

That was the part he didn't look forward to.

Muraki released the shinigami's hands, letting them fall to the doctor's slim shoulders, where they automatically gripped the bone through the shirt material. The doctor, whatever his faults may be, had experience and knew what he was doing.

Oh, god, it felt so good. And Muraki was breathing on his ear now, his breath ragged and uneven, taking pleasure in hearing the moans from the man in front of him.

Tsuzuki moaned again, but this time, the wonderful feelings stopped. His breath hitched; he knew it did. Muraki chuckled.

"Forgive me, I must attend to something." he purred, then leaned even farther in, "Don't go anywhere, Tsuzuki-kun."

He left through the door. The only door leading out. When he left it slightly ajar, Tsuzuki crept over to the crack and listened through it. The person was a woman, probably a girl in her teens. A pretty, sing-song voice telling Muraki that he had left 'this' at the hospital today, and she thought he'd need it. He thanked her. Tsuzuki strained to see the girl, make sure that she wasn't someone he knew. Muraki's large figure dwarfed hers, though. She must have been very thin, but it didn't matter. She had left shortly after exchanging a few words with Muraki, who came back in holding a package wrapped in brown paper. He set the package down on the table where the broken doll was.

"Who was that?" Tsuzuki asked, trying to sound casual. Muraki paused to glance up at him from the package.

"The doll." he answered simply, motioning to the one on the table. Tsuzuki didn't press it; he probably didn't want to know. Muraki was absorbed momentarily in the package, chuckling at something he saw in it, then turning his gaze on Tsuzuki, his eyes predatory.

Tsuxuki gulped. He was in too deep; he realized that. But there was no stopping now. He had said 'yes', after all. A shinigami never lies.

Damn.

Muraki pushed him against the door, kissing him roughly. Tsuzuki didn't have time for this; his body had begun to ache for the touch once more. He raised his pelvis towards Muraki's: a sign he wanted attention. It always worked with Hisoka. Apparently, it worked with Muraki as well, as they regained their former position. Tsuzuki's arms splayed out to the doorframe, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white.

Muraki stopped once more. He grinned at Tsuzuki, giving him a quick kiss on the neck, then bent down and really indulged the shinigami. Tsuzuki nearly fell backwards into the doorframe with the warmth surrounding him. A man this cold would have such a warm mouth; who would've thought?

Oh, who would've cared?! He groaned and moaned wantonly, writhing under the vampire-like man's touches.

Eventually, the end came, finsihing with complete satisfaction. Such feeling that he saw white for a few moments.

Once his vision returned, Muraki was leaning up against him, sandwiching his body between Muraki and the door.

Moving forward, the psychotic doctor, Kaxutaka Muraki, whispered in the shinigami's ear, "It's my turn now."

-imalineimalineimalineimalineimaline-

A/N:

"And God gave them over to shameful lust."

-Momoko from Ghost Stories

...I'm shocked at myself, really. This started out as an innocent story. No lie. INNOCENT. Now, look what it's become! -cough- Excuse my odd behavior, please. I've spent all day writing, since I've been bedridden. -cough- Anyway, I honestly hope this didn't offend anyone. It's one of my favorite pairings, but I really did not expect it to turn into something so... explicit. It's the most naughty thing I've ever written. And it's not even that long. Slightly disappointed there. Most everything I write has at least 20 KB on my drive. This one's only 16.

Review, please. I know it's a rather bizarre story, mostly PWP, but I'd still appreciate reviews.

Oh, yes, did anyone catch the extra I threw in there? Come on, guess! Hint: readers of "Waiting for Yesterday", my other fic, should get it pretty easily.

Love and Dolls,

p.s.Pancake