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Category: Yami no Matsuei
Title: Hidden research, an experiment in death and rebirth.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An experiment leads to rebirth for a green-eyed Shinigami, tearing him away from death and a devoted partner.
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Tametsi
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Time stopped and elapsed, fleeting beneath fading kisses and gentle hands. Soft, subtle, caresses that made him yield with a soft-carrying cry. Arching into that pleasantly drowning sensation, he was creating . . . for him and him alone.
Like fog around a mountain top, it surged around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of heat and warmth, and wet sensations that slid against his skin like the feel of silk. His mouth . . .
"Hisoka . . ."
Was maddeningly slow on the chord of his neck, holding him in place with a touch, not all subtle or gentle as it pulled him closer, hands winding into chocolate locks. He gasped, as the other man's lingering caress finally settled between his legs.
"Tsuzuki . . ."
He awoke on contact, surprise and shock, reverberating through as he realized two very important things. The first been the most obvious, which was that it'd only been a dream, the second however, wound around him with a cold sense of dread: Tsuzuki was awake and in sleep or by either one of their unconscious need, he found himself tightly wound around the older man, his arousal tightly tempered on by shock.
The younger boy stared wide-eyed at the purple-eyed man, a sense of doom and anticipation hovering between them, as Tsuzuki's feeling tempted to drown them both. And he realized what he had not been able to take in before—'It was . . . Tsuzuki's dream,' his need and his revelation of love that'd startled Hisoka so suddenly.
While he had long suspected those to be the feelings of the other man, he had never really known—until tonight, he had thought it all nothing more than simple wishful thinking on his behalf; because . . .
"Hisoka . . ."
Why would Tsuzuki want him . . . of all people . . .
Tsuzuki shifted and for a moment, as the world grew too bright for him to think. Tsuzuki kissed him. Softly, fusing their mouths together in a series of long-lingering kisses, that made it hard for him breath . . . As the brunet eagerly nipped on the side of his throat, Hisoka's hands wove around his neck, eyes closing as tender kisses peppered around his face, trailing around his mouth until he slipped between his lips, slowly teaching him to respond, with a coaxing sweetness that had always laced his patience.
Drowning them in a whirl of emotions, as Tsuzuki pressed him down, firmly holding him beneath his weight, Hisoka thoughts synchronized to his . . .
When he looked into his eyes, he felt such love . . . tears, sprang to his eyes, because he had never known, how he could have lived this long without knowing.
"I love you, Hisoka . . ."
"Tsuzuki . . ." He could not respond in kind, the older Shinigami feared his rejection still and kissed him before he could even begin to respond. But he had to know . . .
"Hisoka . . ."
How much he truly loved him . . . "Tsuzuki . . ." He gasped, as the previous feeling of warmth was suddenly replaced by jolt of pain.
"This . . ." someone said, "Isn't exactly how I expected to find you." The sheer calm of his voice would have been enough to let them know how utterly furious the sight of them, had made him.
"I'm sorry I had to knock him out," he gestured, looking mildly interested at the prone figure of the older Shinigami. "But you and I both know, he would have never let you go," he said, directing his gaze back on Hisoka. "Now come," he ordered, extending his hand in obvious expectation.
When Hisoka didn't move, however, hands tightly clutching an unconscious Tsuzuki, Muraki moved with a speed so unbecoming a human being, he scared him.
"I said move." He whispered, so frighteningly close now the hairs on his arm stood on end. "Or do you wish to see him handicapped? Hmm, boy . . . Is that what you want?"
Hisoka shook his head, swallowing the tears threatening to choke him, as he brushed Tsuzuki hair aside; he kissed him one last time and wished Tsuzuki had at least let him tell him how he felt . . .
"Boy."
There was enough ice in his voice to make him fear for Tsuzuki's safety. And it was because of this and this alone, that he pushed Tsuzuki off him.
As he stood on shaky legs, one hand still pressed against Tsuzuki's arm, he looked at the doctor.
"It won't be like before," Hisoka said, voice strangely despondent. "He'll go to the ends of the earth this time if that's what it takes to find you."
"Because he loves you . . ." The doctor smiled a cold-cruel smile. "Boy, that can be easily be erased, so never you mind."
When Hisoka still didn't move, the doctor slapped him, taking him by the arm and roughly pulling him around, as they turned to disappear the front door to his apartment blew apart.
The echoes of the others was the last thing he heard but as they disappeared it was Tsuzuki's startled face that made his own crumple up.
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"I didn't think it'd be that easy." The doctor said, shoving Hisoka away from him as they reappeared inside his lab. "But then you had him quite distracted . . . Didn't you boy?"
The way he looked at him made Hisoka pale.
"You look quite different when you want it . . ." The doctor noted, loosening his tie as he approached a cornered Hisoka, smiling that cold, cruel-smile. As his proximity began to take its toll, face almost against the teens. "I forget . . ." He murmured, "How weak you are without your shields."
As he touched the long honey-colored strands around Hisoka's face, the teen flinched and turned his face away.
"What? No screams. No biting." The doctor made a very disappointed sound in the back of his throat before he slowly backed away. "How very dull," he said, as he watched Hisoka's face, watched the teens body slowly begin to relax against the wall. "How very dull indeed," he repeated, just a second before he grabbed him around the throat; basking in the high-piercing wail, that echoed of the walls like strings of violins in a concert hall.
"Now that's more like it." He said, catching the youth in his arms just as he fainted. "Just like before . . . Ne, Hisoka."
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When he was little, the world around him had made little sense. The complexities of his surrounding had completely eluded him. And even though his sister had once sat him down and tried to explain it to him, he had been too young to understand.
The world was unfair.
Despite his hope and optimism, he believed the world would continue to be so until, the heavens themselves were torn asunder. And everything he had loved and came to love, were snatched away from his unyielding grasp. His mother and his sister were two prime examples. The other . . .
Tsuzuki sat up slowly, waiting for the world to stop its spinning before he opened swollen groggy eyes to a world filled with white.
At first, as he looked around, he could not understand where he was though some part of him recognized it, there were parts of him completed dissociated with some facts . . . Like names . . . Of things, he ought to know the answer to, he thought . . .
A flash of white and gold suddenly came across his line of sight. And as he turned, steadily trying focus on the shadow of the approaching figure now silhouetted against the door he remembered . . .
Pale hair and dark eyes . . .
"Tsuzuki?"
Soft hands and an elfin face . . .
"Tsuzuki!"
It was hard to focus. But he understood; there was something wrong.
"It's the drugs, Tsuzuki, I'm sorry we had to give you so much but . . . ." The shadow sighed, and Tsuzuki wondered what the other could possibly have to sigh about.
"Do you remember anything?"
Tsuzuki shook his head, the images and half-formed thoughts inside him where such a jumbled mess; it suddenly drudged up a desperation, he could not understand. That face—"That boy . . ."
The figure now visible to his right gasped and fiddled with something by his bedside. As he turned to look at him, at the guilty visage of the other man, Tsuzuki frowned.
"I'm sorry," the figure said, as he pushed a button on the machine, bright-blonde hair falling across his eyes.
A crushing heaviness settled against his chest, desperation clawing at his heart as tears sprung to his eyes. "That boy . . ." he couldn't remember the name to. "Where is he?" He had to be close by—he needed him to be close by—he could not survive this otherwise. "Help me." Tsuzuki pleaded, struggling to keep awake. "I need . . . I need . . . him." He slurred, as darkness consumed him once again, Watari wiped his eyes.
"I know Tsuzuki, I know." He whispered, wiping his own eyes as he drew back. "We'll find him," he vowed, "So don't worry. He'll be back; safe and sound before you even known it," he murmured. Turning around, as a distressed Wakaba moved away from her spot beneath the door, wiping at her eyes, as she glanced at the sleeping figure on the bed.
"I think Tatsumi might have found them." She said, coming closer to the bed as Watari stiffened, his face showing clear distress.
"He was looking for you. They're getting ready to leave," she murmured, taking hold of Tsuzuki's hand, as the scientist nodded and left. Wakaba sighed, blinking back a new wave of tears, before gently squeezing his hand. "I don't about this Tsuzuki . . . I know I promised . . . But too loose you too . . ." She began to cry, clutching his hand a moment before sticking a needle in his arm.
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In the dark, bound by things more tangible than ropes around his arms, Hisoka screamed; twisting away from the mad doctor's touch which only roughened as he curled on his side. Distorting his limbs in such awkward positions, Hisoka nearly blacked out.
"This," the doctor murmured, twisting his hand around honey-like hair — "Would go a lot faster, if you simply ceased to struggle." He said, mouth pressed low against his cheek in a depraved show of amusement, he kissed a corner of his mouth. "How unfortunate, I can't simply kill you," he said, pulling back enough to watch him scream as he tried to jerk away. Twisting his arms awkwardly as he continued to try and pull free of the enchanted binds. Blood like tears smearing his elfin face before the doctor seemed to have enough and slapped him.
"One day," Hisoka swore, voice roughened by his screams, "I am going to kill you."
"Just not today," Muraki said, twisting Hisoka's neck to the side as he injected him with something that made the younger man freeze. Eyes wide and dilated, conscious understanding, of what the doctor might do halting his expression a second or so before Muraki's rich-mad like laughter filled up the room; his amusement drowning out the echoes of Hisoka's promise, like the sounds of thunder striking hallow ground.
Hisoka fell unconscious. His struggle to break free ceasing as the doctor smiled. Touching over petal soft skin until he bruised the curvature of his neck, embedding dark-blood like curses, he would make him see just before he cut him open, he thought, continuing to laugh until the room echoed with his laughter and in the distance, an alarm began to sound . . .
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tametsi: even if