Finally got around to finishing it. And it is done, now. Complete. There will not be anymore.

_____________________________________________________________

Hisoka had never been so grateful for shields in his afterlife. The simultaneous feelings of horror and relief Tsuzuki experienced at seeing his partner standing in his door were almost enough to send Hisoka screaming into the night. Tsuzuki was always quick with his shields, though. Just before the flood was stemmed, Hisoka felt a wave of concern. Tsuzuki's for him and his for Tsuzuki.

"What s'matter, Hisoka?" The slurred words dripped worry. Hisoka shuddered. How could Tsuzuki stand there reeking of sake and blood and ask if he was all right?

"You've got blood on your hands." It wasn't quite what Hisoka had meant to say. Confusion tripped across his mind as Tsuzuki looked down at the stains left on his sleeves, at the brownish crust drying on his skin.

"You can see it? Does everyone? No one's ever said anything, so I thought they couldn't. When… I'm sorry." Tsuzuki murmured half to himself and fell back into his apartment, attempting to close the door between them. Hisoka pushed against it and stepped inside.

"Idiot." His voice did not break as he said it. Really.

The room felt heavy with misery. Worse then normal. Hisoka half dragged Tsuzuki into the kitchen. The kitchen was the lightest part of Tsuzuki's apartment. His troubles just didn't seem to exist in there. Of course, that was where he kept the sweets, so they might not have. Hisoka pulled Tsuzuki over to the sink. The trench coat had been left in the hall, so Hisoka started unbuttoning his partner's shirt.

"What…Hisoka…?" Tsuzuki didn't struggle; he stared in shock. Hisoka pulled the sleeves down, let the stained shirt fall to the floor. He held Tsuzuki's hands over the sink. Water ran down their arms, soaking the cuffs of Hisoka's sweater. Blood slowly circled around the drain, eventually spiraling into the void.

"I'm washing your hands." Hisoka twisted his fingers around Tsuzuki's, rubbing off the blood. There wasn't very much. Hisoka didn't stop, gently massaging Tsuzuki's fingers, hands, wrists, long after the blood washed down the sink. Suddenly noticing that the stains were clean, Hisoka dropped the hands and shut the faucet. He turned to face his partner, trapped between the wet rim of the sink and Tsuzuki's bare skin. Silently Hisoka thanked every deity he remembered by name that he had never gone to the baths with Tsuzuki. The man standing so close to him took away his breath without even noticing.

Tsuzuki smiled softly at his partner. As though such a simple rinse would remove the stains so many years of harsh scouring left. Hisoka was trembling. Fear? No, horror. Hisoka was terrified of him.

"Thank you." An easy lie. Hisoka blushed at Tsuzuki's words and turned his attention to some small spot on the floor. The boy couldn't even look at him. And yet, he'd come, in the middle of the night. Something important must have happened. "What's wrong, Hisoka?"

Green eyes rose off the floor. Hisoka fixed his eyes on Tsuzuki's face, forcibly ignoring everything that wasn't bright purple. Tsuzuki's lack of shirt did not matter. Not in the least.

"Mess…this place…clean…." So his words weren't coming out quite right. It was three in the morning.

"Huh?"

"Tea." Hisoka's eyes flicked back to the floor. "I'm going to make tea. You…you clean the floor out there. And put on a shirt."

His last sentence was addressed to an empty kitchen. Tsuzuki, unnaturally diligent, had begun Hisoka's task as soon as it was assigned. Hisoka picked up the teapot and brought it over to the sink to fill it with water. He removed the lid and took a cursory glance inside, checking for old tealeaves. He found a knife.

Damnit, Tsuzuki….

The blood came off on his damp hands. It had stained the teapot as well. It probably should have been washed in any case. The knife, too. Lightly, Hisoka ran a finger across the edge. A very shallow cut; it healed almost immediately. It didn't hurt; it barely bled. Was this what Tsuzuki had done? He washed the knife, careful not to cut himself again. He put it in the dish rack and continued the tea-making process. His eyes kept returning to the clean knife. It was the only thing in the dish rack. What in all hells did Tsuzuki want to do that for? Quickly, Hisoka dried the knife and tossed it in the nearest drawer. Another item for their long list of "never happened."

**************

The floor really needed to be mopped. Cleaning was never something Tsuzuki enjoyed. It was all mechanical work, leaving the mind free to think. What had happened to make Hisoka come over at three in the morning? Dreams, probably, or rather nightmares. He knew Hisoka still had them. Not that he ever discussed them, but they did share hotel rooms on missions, and there are only so many reasons he would cry out in his sleep.

Hisoka had never come to him after such things before.

Tsuzuki couldn't help but feel pleased Hisoka had that night. It was instantly smothered with guilt. Only a monster could feel happiness at someone else's obvious distress. He looked down into the muck drying at his feet. It wasn't going anywhere. He could at least do what Hisoka had asked.

He hated cleaning. Maybe it would have been better if he had carpet. He'd never cleaned vomit off a rug before. Then his mind could focus on how to do it. He'd had too much practice with hardwood floors. He would think too much. And he was still just standing there.

Get to work, Idiot.

Slowly his features twisted into a sad smile.

**************

Hisoka looked up over the rim of his teacup. Tsuzuki was staring fixedly at the warm liquid. They had been doing just that for nearly eternity. One of them would watch the other stare at tea. Then they would switch. It could, probably, continue for the rest of eternity. Work could be an issue, but they'd spent parts of cases before without being able to look each other in the eye. This was merely a slight extension.

He didn't want to sit there all night. Hisoka drained his teacup, rose, and placed the empty cup next to the sink. 

"Hisoka-?" Tsuzuki's voice echoed surprise. Hisoka quickly turned around. Tsuzuki had been watching him, but the man jerked his attention back to the tea as soon as their eyes met. "Are…are you leaving, then?"

"I…yes." Hisoka lowered his eyes to the ground, hoping his action would prompt Tsuzuki to look at him again. "We have work tomorrow."

"Work? Right, work." Tsuzuki chuckled. Still avoiding his partner's gazed, he walked Hisoka to the door. "I forgot about it."

"Idiot." Hisoka stopped in the doorway, hesitating after he put on his shoes. He'd come here for a reason.

"Hiso- "

Hisoka threw himself forward into Tsuzuki's arms. He tilted his head back and their lips met gently. Tsuzuki tried to shield his feelings, but he couldn't crush them all, nor prevent his physical reaction. Hisoka's tongue slipped between Tsuzuki's parted lips, tasted the sake, the tea, the emotions. Surprise, pain guilt. Hisoka pulled back. The violet eyes seemed so hurt.

"I'm sorry." Tsuzuki's words stabbed into Hisoka's soul. Of course Tsuzuki would be sorry. It had been a foolish thought, that Tsuzuki might care for him in that way. Childish. All he could do was make Tsuzuki feel bad. Apologize for not being able to love him.

"Me too." He didn't want to loose Tsuzuki. He'd just have to forget everything. Forget the dream. Forget the desire.

Forget the kiss.