I'm actually posting on time! Okay, so now this story is fully synced with AO3, so feel free to visit it! Thanks so much to my amazing reviewers DAIrinchan, Aailasca, sugay, Saria19, Chocoholic 221B, Blue-grayBird, tragic-kira, slyside, Anon, and guest! Also thanks to my new followers and favoriters! Your support really means so much! Anyway, this chapter is pretty OOC, but I ran the basis through multiple people so I hope that it is kind of ok! Thanks for reading and happy New Year!
P.S. to Anon: The theory you linked me to is super interesting, and now I want to write something for it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter
See bottom of chapter for added notes
Chapter Nine
Kuroro caught Kurapika in the hallway, when their little party was about to set off for the banquet. If the blond was shocked at the sudden appearance of the Phantom Troupe leader, he didn't show it.
"Is there something you need?" Kurapika asked, noting the other's close proximity with an involuntary trill of excitement. "If so—"
"You look beautiful," Kuroro interrupted smoothly, surprising the shorter man.
The other scoffed dismissively, but the dim lighting caught the slight pink of his cheeks as he tilted his head. Golden hair fell carelessly on one shoulder, ruby earring sparkling like a beacon, and Kuroro swallowed.
"Beautiful enough to attract a monster?" was all the blond said back, voice holding a slight bitterness.
Stepping closer, the dark-haired man took Kurapika's hand, drawing it up towards his lips with purposeful slowness. One heartbeat. Two. Three. The Kurta watched the thief, eyes wide and filled with confusion. A smile curled its way upwards on Kuroro's face as he kissed the other's hand. The gentle scent of something that Kuroro could only describe as sunlight on forest leaves flooded his senses as he drew nearer.
"Well, seeing that you've attracted me, I'd have to say 'yes'," the Spider Head replied softly. The words hung in the tension-charged air for a few moments, fueled by Kurapika's utter disbelief.
Hand reaching upwards to caress the blond's cheek, Kuroro moved in closer as Kurapika's eyes fluttered closed. What little space between them evaporated, and Kurapika ascribed his inhibition to the dizzying adrenaline coursing through his veins. The worry of the night melted away as Kuroro's lips brushed against his own, tentative and unsure, yet thrilling all the same.
The contact felt good, so impossibly good, that Kurapika almost let himself give in. His body craved the other's careful touch, wanted it with an intensity that terrified him. He wanted something that he shouldn't have, something that he couldn't have. It was tantalizing and repelling all at the same time, like the push and pull of the tides.
Focus.
And so Kurapika had to lean away, far away from feathery-light contact of Kuroro's lips hovering over his own. At once, the Phantom Troupe leader made to move back, reading the blond's actions as rejection.
"Not now," he told him quietly, but firmly, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the brief moment of escape he was having. "Not when all of this is happening."
"Alright," the Phantom Troupe leader replied, so softly that Kurapika had scarcely heard him.
Refusing to meet the other's eyes, Kurapika spun around towards the exit. "We have to go."
"Unfortunately," Kuroro mumbled, picking up his pace until he was in step with the blond.
The banquet was grossly extravagant.
Table after table of delicacies, gold and silver dishes gleaming in the bright lighting of the chandeliers overhead. The air was thick and stank of too many expensive perfumes piled together, and satin ballgowns dyed in garish colors stood in sharp contrast with the heavy matter of the event.
Only Queen Oito had dressed appropriately for the evening, sheathed in a black gown that was made to be modest and not at all eye-catching. But, amidst all the other gaudy hues, the youngest queen stood out significantly. Still, despite her reluctant participation in the Succession War combined with the fact that most of the people in the room wanted to kill her daughter, Queen Oito socialized with the higher-up queens with ease.
Kurapika would have been content to stand watch over his two charges for the whole evening, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he was summoned to the Fourth Prince's side. Kuroro seemed to have caught on to his unease, and he kept throwing concerned glances his way. The blond wasn't sure whether or not he found this annoying or comforting, but he allowed it nonetheless.
Soon, near the end of the night, a hand latched onto his bicep. With a jolt, Kurapika realized that it was time.
"The Fourth Prince requires your presence," the bodyguard clutching his arm announced. "Please come as it is convenient."
Judging by the heavy hold on his person, Kurapika supposed that the man had just said 'come as it is convenient' purely out of protocol, and was not actually giving him a choice on whether or not he would go with him.
Before he could be pulled away, however, Kuroro tugged him close for a brief moment, passing it off as a quick exchange between coworkers.
"Be careful," Kuroro advised, lips distractingly close to Kurapika's ear.
Rolling his eyes, Kurapika nodded in acknowledgment. "You make it sound like I've never done this before."
"I will actually hunt you down if you don't come back, got it?" the dark-haired man threatened.
"Duly noted," the Kurta replied, slipping out of his grasp. Kuroro watched the other go with something akin to worry brewing in his chest. How odd.
As Kurapika followed the bodyguard through the crowd, he tried not to notice the numerous looks he attracted. He hated drawing attention to himself, be it good or bad. But, if getting a few appraising stares would earn him the Scarlet Eyes, then so be it.
He was lead into a side room, extravagantly decorated like the banquet hall, but unmistakably private. There, the bodyguard tossed him a derisive sneer and left, abandoning Kurapika in the heart of the lions' den. Kurapika didn't let his unease or nervousness show on his face, however, as the prince was sitting only a few scant meters away from him. His nen-beast was surprisingly absent, something that Kurapika noted with relief.
"White," the prince said suddenly, and Kurapika spun to face him. "The color of innocence, purity, light."
Pinning on a dazzling smile, Kurapika took his time making his way towards the prince. "Mm... in modern times, that is. A long time ago it was different, was it not? White meant something else..."
"Death," Tserriednich finished, eyes lighting up with glee.
Kurapika said nothing in reply, not trusting himself to formulate anything appropriate. Instead, he stopped at Tserriednich's chair, bending down to kiss the ring hanging off of the monster's finger. Immediately, he was dragged down to sink into the prince's lap, just as planned. Turning around in his arms, Kurapika tried to keep up the facade of shyness as he bit his lip, glancing up demurely at the prince form under his lashes.
1...2...3...
A pair of lips met his own, and Kurapika thanked whomever was watching over him at that moment that the prince had gotten the sickening stench of blood off of him. Just two more minutes of this. Mentally, he counted the seconds until the time was over and he could proceed with his plan.
"I'm ready," Kurapika told him, lips hovering over the other's in a teasing manner.
"That's up to me to decide," the Fourth Prince responded, tracing a finger down his neck.
"Your highness, I'm afraid that you do not understand," Kurapika stressed, wrapping his arms around the other's neck. "Queen Oito is becoming less and less tolerant of my visits as the war goes on. This will be my last meeting with you if she has her way."
Tserriednich stiffened minutely, and Kurapika knew that he had won.
It was quite a good trap, Kurapika had to admit. He had bided his time, waiting for that small window in time when the younger princes were the most uneasy, and bent the strict rules of the Succession War to his favor. Princes had supreme order over their privately hired bodyguards. No matter if it was the First Prince or the Thirteenth, princes could not order around bodyguards that were not their own. The rule left a little room for interpretation, because if the bodyguard wished to assist the other prince in a plot, there were no restrictions if it was done quietly and without any trace of sabotage.
And since Prince Woble was too young to make suitable choices in the public's opinion, Queen Oito had temporary control over the reins.
"Our agreed time was in a few days," Tserriednich reminded him, tone edged with warning.
"The window is closing earlier than I anticipated," the blond informed him, refusing to back down.
"How am I to be sure that you will not double cross me? The chances that you will turn on me the moment my men enter your domain are unfavorable for me."
Here we go. "What can I do to make you trust me?" Kurapika forced himself to say, anticipating the worst. If the prince wished to sleep with him... well, it was a concession that he would have to make. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
A gleam of keen interest appeared in the prince's eyes, and the Kurta braced himself.
"Anything?"
"Anything."
Tserriednich thought over this for a few moments, and Kurapika stewed in the silence. "Change of plans. I want to ensure that you will not betray me." Fat chance of that. "When my men arrive at the door, you must open the door yourself. I will instruct them to not enter unless you have let them in personally. And I wish to see the bodies myself. None of your tricks or gimmicks here."
At once, Kurapika's mind picked up the prince's motive. Tserriednich wanted to make sure that he would not flee when the bodyguards arrived, and wanted to make sure that once the bodyguards had access to the room, Kurapika would be an easy target. The fact that the prince wanted to see the bodies was another thing. The prince's private army could be persuaded if given good reason or bribery, but one could not lie to fact. Kurapika would have to ensure that every member of his own party was dead, as pretending to be dead was well out of the window.
Kurapika sighed inwardly. He had been set up for death from the very moment that he had started this plot, that he understood. But to have the odds stacked against him so highly was frightening. He had clung to the hope that he would somehow pull out of the plan alive, had told himself that he'd see Gon and Killua again, one last time. Then, Kurapika had a sickening thought.
If Tserriednich was fine with him dying the very next day, that meant that he had full intention of taking every last bit of Kurapika that he could. And if he refused, he was only sealing his fate.
Tserriednich smiled as he saw realization that flickered momentarily in the other's eyes.
"So are you actually ready for this, pet?" the prince purred, drawing the blond closer.
Kurapika's stomach churned at the prospect, but he pushed himself to remain calm. What do I do? What can I do? The Fourth Prince smirked, moving in to capture the other's lips. A frigid hand traveled down to toy with the buttons of his slacks, and Kurapika's mind slammed into full-on panic mode. As another hand reached upwards to undo the clasps of his dress-shirt one by one, Kurapika pretended to sigh in pleasure and broke of the kiss, tilting his head with the pretense of giving better access of his neck to Tserriednich. In actuality, he was allowing himself full use of his vision without rousing suspicion.
He scanned the room frantically, searching for something that he could use to flee. After a few moments, he caught sight of a glass decanter of wine on a nearby table. Quickly, he seized it and, before the prince could react, tapped the pitcher against the other's head with as little force as necessary. Immediately, Tserriednich went limp, and Kurapika thanked the heavens that his nen beast was not present.
At least not for about another few seconds, that is.
Running for the door, Kurapika slipped into the now-empty banquet hall unnoticed. Helpful that Tserriednich had thought about sending his guards away in preparation of bedding him, Kurapika noted with no small amount of irony. Dialing a number in his phone, Kurapika spoke curtly once the call was accepted.
"There's been a change in plans."
Kurapika could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, intermingling with the shock and stress of the past hour. The first thing he did was wash the taste of the prince out of his mouth, a daily practice that he had exercised over the past couple days.
Then, the logical side of him commanded him to sleep, lest he not be in prime condition for the complex series of actions that he'd have to carry out the next day. The foolish, scared part of him was having none of that, however. That part of him urged him to take advantage of what was sure to be the last precious hours of his life. It wanted him to something, but he wasn't sure what. And that terrified him.
Nonetheless, he forced himself to go through the motions of sleep, making himself climb into his bed one last time. Yet, sleep still evaded him. His mind buzzed with plans, and the room was suddenly too suffocating to remain in. After a few more minutes of fruitless tossing and turning, Kurapika gave up his attempts.
Rising, Kurapika found himself walking in the direction of Kuroro's room. To his surprise, the other man was still awake, reading a book seemingly without a care in the world. At once, Kuroro noticed his presence, closing his reading and walking towards him.
"Kurapika?" he asked, tone unsure and touched with concern. For some reason, his voice calmed the whirlwind of thoughts brewing in Kurapika's mind. "How did it go? Did he agree?"
Nodding numbly, Kurapika found that he could not speak. He craved for something, something that he did not know the name of. It was strikingly familiar to the feeling that he'd had earlier, in the hallway with Kuroro. It couldn't be the same, could it?
Kuroro took the blond's continued silence as an indication that something had happened. "What happened? Did he do anything?" he demanded, tone becoming darker. "I swear, if he has—"
Overwhelmed by the thing that had been growing between them and the turbulent events of the night, Kurapika surged forward on impulse, cutting off the Phantom Troupe leader's words. Kuroro froze in shock, but after a moment, the dark-haired man responded with fervor. Oh. So that was what he had been wanting, Kurapika realized.
Allowing himself to be lost in the kiss, Kurapika looped his arms around the other man's neck, leaning against him fully. The two of them stumbled backwards, miraculously landing on the mattress behind them. Kuroro's lips made their way down the column of his neck, and Kurapika's breathing hitched. He hadn't known that a kiss could feel like that. A kiss landed on his collarbone, startlingly warm against his chilled skin, and Kurapika's brain short-circuited.
A hand brushed against his hip, fingers barely skimming the skin underneath the sleep shirt. Kurapika stifled a gasp at the contact, the desperate sound escaping his lips unbidden. Kuroro smiled against his skin, kissing the curve of his neck gently, and Kurapika became aware of one thing: it was one thing to pretend to have lost control, and another to have actually lost it.
As quickly as it had started, however, the moment ended. Kuroro drew away, and Kurapika immediately noticed the distinct lack of warmth.
"We should stop," Kuroro advised, voice coming out thicker than usual.
"Why?" Kurapika asked, a dazed accent curling softly over his words.
Something in Kuroro froze when he heard it. There was something familiar about it, something that he couldn't quite place about it that brought up memories that he couldn't quite touch.
"Why?" Kurapika reiterated, surprised by his own boldness. The blond tugged the other man closer. Kuroro shook off the strange feeling.
Kuroro laughed, the sound coming out a tad bitter. "Earlier, you wouldn't even let me kiss you. I think that you're in shock right now, and I don't want you to make decisions that you'll regret." The lie was plausible, Kuroro supposed. The truth was that if they continued, he wasn't sure that he would be able to control himself. For the first time in his life, a small part of him wanted it to be real. A small, minuscule, human part of him wished for normalcy, wished that Kurapika wanted him too.
That seemed to jar Kurapika back to his senses. Clarity flashed through his eyes, and Kuroro was almost sad to see it. Carefully extricating himself from the blond's grasp, Kuroro supposed that the blond wanted him to go. But, to his utter astonishment, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back down.
"Don't go just yet," Kurapika found himself saying. "Please." What is there to lose? Kurapika thought to himself.
For a brief second, Kuroro simply stared at him, as if wondering what had brought about such a drastic change of heart. Kurapika's temporary boldness wavered a little bit, and he was about to apologize and flee when the dark-haired man lied back down, an arm coming up to drape over Kurapika's side. Unconsciously, the blond shifted closer to Kuroro.
"Are you scared?" Kuroro's voice sounded softly in the night air. "Is that why?" Is that why you're acting like this?
"Scared for tomorrow? No," Kurapika replied honestly. "Scared for every single day after that? Yes." If there even is a day after that.
"Did he do something to you?"
Ah, the question that Kurapika was hesitant to answer. After a few moments of thinking, he decided to tell the truth. Just for the heck of it. "Tonight... tonight was difficult. The prince allowed me to proceed with the plan..."
"But?"
"But he had a stipulation. Unspoken, of course."
Kuroro paused, going absolutely still, and Kurapika closed his eyes as he continued.
"Sleep with him, or I die." Kurapika paused for a moment, trying to gather up his thoughts. "If I agreed to let him take advantage of me, then I might have gained better footing in his eyes, and the chances of my survival might have increased. If I refused, then I would be sealing my fate indefinitely."
"And did you?" Kuroro's voice came out dangerously low, and the aura-charged air thickened menacingly.
Turning around to face the other man, Kurapika let a small smile creep over his features. "No. No, I did not." Kuroro opened his mouth to say something, but Kurapika shook his head slightly. "Before you ask, the Fourth Prince is currently unconscious and probably in some banquet room or another."
In the darkness, Kurapika could barely see the Spider Head, but he could almost see the conflicted look on the other's face. "What can I do to get you out of this? I can help you; I'm sure of that."
"There is nothing for you to do. You just have to trust me," Kurapika told him sadly. "What will happen is just going to have to happen."
"You're not planning on dying on me, right?" Kuroro asked, voice tentative.
Kurapika turned away. He didn't want to have to look at Kuroro when he lied.
"No."
Added Notes
1) Every time I have to write the word 'pet', I cringe. It's gross and creepy and I've tried not to use it in this story, but it's appropriate for good ol' sicko Tserriednich. So yeah.
2) So Tserriednich is attracted sexually to Kurapika, but he regards him still as just another object to be used and cast aside. No attached feelings, I guess.
3) Kurapika is pretty sure that he's going to die tomorrow, which is why he's going all sorts of crazy. His line of thought is 'Well, if I'm going to die, I might as well do whatever I want until that time happens,' as long as it doesn't affect his friends in any negative way. Which is why he didn't visit Leorio or something.
4) Bill is on watch during the last snippet. So yeah.
5) Next chapter is still under massive construction, but I should get it out on normal schedule.
6) Kuroro is becoming more... human? The first and last scenes are not exactly my favorite for characterization, but it'll make more sense later (I hope).
7) Projection for story length is ~ 14 chapters, I think.
As always, thanks for reading and please review!
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