Chapter five. Posted early so I can finish this before vacation begins. Ha, I finally got some of the formating to work. Take that, lack of seperation. Please forgive the misspelled speach, I'm not very good at spelling anyway, and spelling things to look slurred is hard.

Hisoka was curled up on the sofa next to Tsuzuki. He felt warm, comfortable, relaxed. Alcohol was not his friend. To be more specific, the half-glass of champagne he'd drunk was not his friend. He was sleepy and his guard was down, both emotionally and empathically speaking. If anyone other than Tsuzuki were around, he'd probably be sick from their feelings. At least he wasn't on Phenobarbital anymore, considering all the warnings about not consuming alcoholic beverages while taking it due to poor interactions. He'd finally found his good excuse to stop the meds: scales. The skin on his upper abdomen had dried out and crusted in such a way as to resemble the skin of a snake. A bit of internet research had located scaly skin on a list of rare side effects, so unless he was afflicted with some family curse no one had informed him of, the meds were the cause. Armed with an explanation, he ignored doses and was no longer troubled with treatment for the wrong illness.

Carefully, Hisoka placed his half-empty glass on the floor and pulled his feet up onto the couch so he wouldn't accidentally kick it over. He wished Tsuzuki had a table. His new position forced him to lean on Tsuzuki, but neither of them really minded. Or, rather, Hisoka didn't mind and Tsuzuki was too out of it to object. Thus the generalization that alcohol was not his friend applied.

Truthfully, Hisoka would have been surprised and probably alarmed if Tsuzuki hadn't gotten drunk. It was New Year's Eve and an integral part of celebrating this particular holiday was drinking. That Tsuzuki would take advantage of the opportunity to drink himself sick was to be expected, although Hisoka had wondered if Tsuzuki would be so open about it in front of him. Not that Hisoka hadn't seen Tsuzuki drunk before. Not that he wouldn't have noticed, probably even without empathy. Not that he hadn't been at least half-expecting a similar outcome of the evening when Tsuzuki agreed to the idea of the small "New Year's Party."

Tsuzuki's agreeing was more of a surprise to Hisoka. It wasn't that he thought Tsuzuki didn't genuinely like him, but what adult wants to give up their holiday entertainments to spend time with some kid? Sure, parents often had to, but Tsuzuki wasn't his father. Tsuzuki wasn't his big brother. Tsuzuki should have had something he wanted to do more, even if it was only getting drunk in a graveyard.

Tsuzuki confused him. He'd been pleased, excited even, to have Hisoka spend the night. It had been Tsuzuki's puppy-dog pleading and consistent assurances that it would be all right as much as Hisoka's calm request that had convinced Kannuki-san to allow him to stay over. Tsuzuki must have wanted him over. He knew Tsuzuki had wanted him to come, he could tell. Tsuzuki's emotions were so hard to make sense of; there were too many and they were too contradictory. Maybe Tsuzuki just didn't want to be alone?

Though if all the man wanted was good company, Hisoka knew there were better choices than him. Mr. Phillips, or Tsuzuki's boyfriend. Thinking of that man made Hisoka shudder. His emotions were warped, twisted and dirty, and Hisoka hoped Tsuzuki had the sense to stay away from him. It was doubtful; Tsuzuki may have verbally dismissed the man as a bad date, but Hisoka could feel the attraction overriding, or perhaps encouraged by, the fear. Attraction encouraged by fear? Such thoughts only confused him further. Everything about Tsuzuki was confusing.

No, not quite. Not anymore. In the past two weeks, Hisoka had become quite certain that he loved Tsuzuki. Love. It was like friendship, but far beyond. It was similar to how others viewed families, but also very different. He'd never experienced anything romantic more than a simple crush but this wasn't like that at all, except maybe within the area of lust, which he did not want to think about. He'd not even read any books about it aside from Tsuzuki's Christmas gift, and while he didn't feel the need to call Tsuzuki "Farm Boy" he was extremely interested in one of those kisses that made history. Hisoka sat up and climbed onto Tsuzuki's lap. He brushed bangs back from Tsuzuki's face. The purple eyes were closed. Hisoka wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. He wrapped his arms around Tsuzuki's neck and twisted to see the countdown on the television. He could feel his knees dig into Tsuzuki's stomach.

10...9...8...7...

Tsuzuki stirred.

"Wha' 's'it, 'Soka?"

...3...2...1

Bracing his hands against the back of the sofa, he leaned into Tsuzuki. Gently his lips first brushed, then pressed against Tsuzuki's. Underneath him, Tsuzuki reacted to the kiss, leaning into it. He dropped the glass he was still holding and it fell to the floor, the drink spilling across the carpet. Emotions drifted into Hisoka.

Happiness.

Enjoyment.

Pleasure.

Tsuzuki's positive reactions were so strong, so overwhelming, it took Hisoka a minute to realize Tsuzuki's hands were pushing his shoulders back, forcing them out of the kiss.

"Wha' 're you doin'?" Hazy purple eyes conveyed a confusion that didn't match the emotions Hisoka was reading. Tsuzuki wasn't confused; he was mourning the end of their kiss.

"Isn't kissing someone at the New Year a tradition?" Hisoka kept his voice cold, but his face was hot. Damn over-active capillaries.

"Guysh ushilly kish gi-rlsh."

"But I'm gay." Hisoka took a shot with logic. Tsuzuki tried to find a flaw, stumbling through incoherent thoughts.

"Oh." Defeated by Hisoka's clever argument, Tsuzuki let his hands drop, sliding down Hisoka's arms. Hisoka leaned down to resume the kiss. Tsuzuki's physical response was subtle, but his emotional one was encouraging. Tsuzuki wanted the kiss. Hisoka shifted on Tsuzuki's lap trying to keep his knees out of Tsuzuki's gut and wound up straddling him. Muscles protested, but Hisoka had other concerns. His tongue slipped through his lips, parting Tsuzuki's. It slid into Tsuzuki's mouth then right back out as Tsuzuki's previously inactive hands pushed him off again.

"I's wron', 'Soka." Hisoka bit back his impulse to sharply question why. Tsuzuki's feelings were completely at odds with his actions. Loss and Need shoved Hisoka off the sofa, away from the offending contact. When they had kissed, the Need had vanished from Hisoka's perception, as though it had been sated. Suddenly deprived of its drink, the Need had returned with its deep thirst. Absently, Hisoka's hand found his glass on the floor. He drained it, looking over the rim at glassy purple eyes. Tsuzuki's guilt disgusted him.

Hisoka wanted to be angry with Tsuzuki, but was just too tired. He retreated to his sleeping bag, turning to face the wall, refusing to look at Tsuzuki. The last of his anger released in his final comment on the evening. "You like it."

Wrapped in the warm blankets, Hisoka awoke with the feeling of evil. Something stood over him, watching him. Not something. Muraki. Hisoka tried not to move, tried not to breathe. He closed his eyes tight and tried to will away the demon. A hand he couldn't see stroked his hair and began peeling off the blankets. Hisoka tried to scream, but the evil forced his voice down his throat. Muraki's suffocating evil. He felt the blankets fall away from him and desperately tried to keep his eyes closed. Unwilling, he looked up, but all he could see of the shadowy figure were bright purple eyes.

"Tsuzuki!"

Hisoka's eyes shot open and found themselves again locked with Tsuzuki's purple ones. Without thought, Hisoka threw himself into Tsuzuki's arms. He was embarrassed, scared, and sick and sought comfort in Tsuzuki's warm thoughts. There he was safe, secure and nauseous. Nauseous?

"Tsuzuki. Bathroom. I need to go. Now." Released from Tsuzuki's embrace, Hisoka darted into the bathroom, slamming the door in Tsuzuki's concerned face. He locked it, knowing it was probably unnecessary, but unable to bear the idea of Tsuzuki watching him be sick. He'd barely raised the toilet seat before a wave of nausea pulled him to his knees. His mind felt disconnected from his body. Faintly, he registered the sound of retching. His stomach ceased to twist and he came back to himself, looking down at the still, clear toilet water.

Still? Clear?

Hisoka unlocked and opened the bathroom door. Tsuzuki was on his hands and knees just outside the door, over a wet, smelly mound of vomit. His hair had fallen forward and mostly covered his face, but Hisoka thought he could see a trace of spittle hanging from Tsuzuki's mouth. Altogether a grotesque, pathetic picture.

"You okay now, Hisoka?" The unexpected words almost caused Hisoka to lose his balance. Tsuzuki was sick and still asking if he was all right?

"I'm fine. Idiot." Hisoka couldn't give the word its usual sting. He couldn't quite say, "I'm sorry," either, though he managed to ask, "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess I had a little too much to drink last night, huh?" Tsuzuki sat back on his knees and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His wet hair stuck to the sides of his face. Hisoka thought about pointing out the incredible understatement of "a little too much" but merely sighed. If Tsuzuki had seen a mirror, he'd never have tried to get away with it. The beautiful eyes were almost more red than their usual purple, and they still had a glazed look in them. His skin was slightly gray and in spite of the cheerful tone in his voice, Hisoka would have been surprised if the man was even able to stand. "I'm sorry, Hisoka."

"You're sorry? I locked you out of the bathroom." Hisoka stood in the bathroom doorway, looking down at Tsuzuki. He felt so guilty, and hoped it was only his own guilt.

"But you were sick because of me, right?" Hisoka couldn't answer that. It was true, but to say so would hurt Tsuzuki even more. Of course, Tsuzuki must have considered his silence as an agreement, considering the increase of guilt he felt. It had to stop; Tsuzuki felt guilty and his guilt made Hisoka feel guilty. It was not a decent way to start a morning.

Tsuzuki got up slowly, using the doorframe for support. Hisoka almost backed away, but instead froze just inside the door. As he looked up at Tsuzuki, the nausea returned. Hisoka took his arm and pulled him into the bathroom. This time, Tsuzuki made it to the toilet. Hisoka ended up on the edge of the small bathtub. He was torn between the thought that he should leave Tsuzuki alone and his impulse to do something comforting. Three times he reached out to push back Tsuzuki's hair, but his hand would always stop before there was any contact. Irritated with himself, Hisoka snatched a towel from the rack. He wet it at the sink and dropped it onto Tsuzuki's neck.

"San kyu, Hisoka."

"Idiot."

"I know."

Tsuzuki sighed. He wasn't acting like himself. Rather, he was acting like himself when he was alone. He never behaved like that around other people, especially children. Children. Hisoka was hardly a child. Sixteen was close to adulthood. Certainly adult enough to kiss someone. Not him, of course, but someone. The senior Hisoka had mentioned to him, perhaps. He sounded nice. Better for Hisoka than a crush on him.

Idiot.

Hisoka was right about him; he was a complete idiot. He should have noticed Hisoka's crush. He should have expected it. It wasn't something new. Every adolescent female whose case he'd been given had made some sort of pass at him. Even most of the younger ones made some mention of wanting to marry him. To assume Hisoka wouldn't fall for him, just because he was male, was beyond stupid. He was the adult; he was the one who should know better. What had he been thinking, allowing Hisoka to stay over? Letting Hisoka kiss him?

If he didn't know what, specifically, he had been thinking, he knew how. He'd been thinking selfishly. He'd wanted company and Hisoka's request had seemed an answer. He'd enjoyed spending time with Hisoka; it had never occurred to him why Hisoka would enjoy spending time with him.

IdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiotIdiot!

Hisoka did not seem like – was not – the silly adolescent crush type. He was as strong, as confident, as self assured as Hijiri. He was also as delicate, as tender as Tats. Shit! He was not comparing Hisoka to his ex-es. Hisoka was a child who did not need to waste even the smallest part of his life with a crush on such a pathetic excuse for a human being. The boy shouldn't have to waste his time getting wet cloths for the terminally hung-over.

"I guess I'd better get started on the clean-up." Tsuzuki took the towel from his neck and chewed on a corner. The cool water felt good in his dry mouth, though it didn't come close to quenching his thirst. Water never did. Hisoka didn't react to his comment. Tsuzuki went to the kitchen and got paper towels. Hisoka still hadn't moved when Tsuzuki returned, nor did he move as Tsuzuki began scraping up as much of the now semi-solid vomit as was possible. It wasn't until Tsuzuki was scrubbing the carpet with detergent that Hisoka spoke.

"Will that work?" His voice was filled with scathing contempt. Tsuzuki had to smile.

"It's not like I've never puked on carpet before. I know what I'm doing." Hisoka snorted. As bad an idea as making the comparison was, he really was just like Hijiri.

"Tsuzuki? Last night….well…" Hisoka blushed deeply. Bringing up his clumsy actions wasn't something he wanted to do, but he owed Tsuzuki an apology.

"Oh, I kinda fell asleep on you, didn't I? Sorry about that. Did you make it to midnight?"

"Yes, I was up." Hisoka's mind reeled. Tsuzuki didn't remember? Tsuzuki had to be lying. Hisoka felt no additional stress, no additional guilt, but that didn't mean anything. Tsuzuki's emotions didn't change when he lied. "May I ask you a question?"

"Just did. But ask another." Hisoka rolled his eyes. He felt Tsuzuki's confusion. Understandable, he'd never been this polite to Tsuzuki. Still, it wasn't right to assume Tsuzuki was lying just because Hisoka couldn't tell one way or the other. It wasn't fair.

"At midnight, the TV had all these pictures of people kissing whoever they were standing next to. Is that the tradition? Just kissing whoever's there?"

"Well, I don't think it was supposed to be like that, but, yeah, that's pretty much how it turns out."

"So, then, if I'd kissed you last night, it would have been appropriate? You wouldn't have been angry?"

"Well, I don't know about appropriate," Tsuzuki's emotions were squirming, sliding out around his shields. Uncertainty, nervousness, anxiety, fear, even regret. "I wouldn't be angry. It would take so much more than that to make me angry with you."

"Promise?" A twisted idea formed in Hisoka's head.

"Promise."

"Well…." Hisoka took a deep breath and tried to will away his blush. "CanIkissyounow?"

"What?" Hope and fear rushed over Tsuzuki's shields. Hisoka closed his eyes.

"Can. I. Kiss. You.?" Hisoka walked over to the bathroom door. Kneeling in the doorway, he was at eyelevel with Tsuzuki. "I want to know if I can. Kiss someone, I mean."

"Hisoka-"

"Please? Since Mur – since he – well, every guy, even friends, just being near them is scary. I want…." Hisoka couldn't finish the sentence. Tsuzuki sat up on his heels, but otherwise was unresponsive. Hisoka reached out with his hand and gently brushed back Tsuzuki's bangs, resting his hand on Tsuzuki's neck. "Please?"

"This isn't-" Hisoka pushed Tsuzuki's neck with his hand, drawing the man towards him. The kiss was light, gentle and quick. "You taste sweet."

The words were involuntary. Tsuzuki's cheeks were almost as red as Hisoka's.

"You taste of vomit. Brush your teeth."

Scales is actually one of the side effects of Phenobarbital. If you don't find this funny, you haven't read the Kurosaki familly history from the last couple of volumes of manga. The present Hisoka refers to is The Princess Bride by William Goldman. Why haven't you read it? Read it.

Oh, and review. Now. Or the ending won't be posted until after winter break.