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Chapter 4: The Consort's Kiss

He wanted to do it again, damn hormones.

Kurapika lay on the lavishly furnished bed, half wrapped in the light blue sheets, his skin too warm for all the layers presented to him. Below the fabric, his heart beat erratically.

He'd played the card game, even drank some wine to wash away his unwanted memories, but in this case, alcohol probably wasn't the best solution. It just made your judgment fuzzy, your actions rash, your heart stupid. It was alright during intimate moments, Kurapika knew, but in a high-stakes situation like this, alcohol was the last thing he needed in his body.

Damn alcohol and the tiny portion sizes Aiko had given out to lure him into a false sense of security.

Kurapika rolled onto his side. He'd kissed a lot of people before. Men, women. This wasn't fair! He had experience, dammit! He should be basking in the glorious light of surviving day one of his consortship, not blushing over kisses that lasted a whole of five seconds.

Maybe, this was good. Mother never told him to avoid attraction, just attachment. As long as he didn't become attached, he could want as much of the Emperor as he wished. It could even make their relationship more believable to prying eyes.

Kurapika could practically hear his parents screeching at him from the heavens. The Emperor was meant to be his enemy, and his attraction would only put a damper on his anger.

Kurapika sat up now, heart racing at the thought of his anger fading. He didn't go through all those sleepless nights for nothing.

The wind blew in through the red-framed window in soft, beckoning gusts, and Kurapika felt his mind clear a bit. A walk outside couldn't hurt. It's not like there would be an assassination attempt after a day. Kurapika knew how much work went into assassinations. Someone would never dare take care of him so soon.

The young consort traversed the corridors for a few minutes, conjuring up his mental map of what he knew of the Consort's Palace so far. He passed blue satin curtains and silk tapestries, polished golden sconces and furniture, and it made the lump in his throat grow. One could drown in all the extravagance and luxury that permeated the walls of this place, made even worse by the ethereal light of the moon. One would think they were in a Palace made for Gods rather than murderers.

Kurapika closed his eyes to the gentle summer-scented breeze, his bare feet cold against the wooden bridge he stood on now, where he could feel every splinter and every grain. His eyes opened again, slowly, brown orbs drinking in the dark water of the stream as it clashed against rocks devoured by moss. Moonrays streaked the inky blue, and Kurapika remembered the streams in the village, and how the adults used to go fishing in darkness. He couldn't see anything in these waters.

Even in his drunken state, he was horribly depressed. Wonderful.

"Oi, kid! Behind you!" a gruff, loud voice shouted, and Kurapika turned on his heel, glimpsing just a glimmer of metal before registering that it was time to duck. He wasn't sure where the lone arrow lodged itself, but he knew where it had meant to. Straight through his heart, and after being destabilized, another would've followed with a target at the back of his head.

Someone approached him, and Kurapika jerked away. In front of him was a man that would put a giant to shame, being several feet taller than Kurapika and so muscular the avenger thought he was better suited to a fighting ring rather than an elegant palace. The clothes he wore looked expensive yet casual, made for fighting, but perfectly suitable for meeting other officials.

"Phew, that was close!" the man exclaimed, far louder than necessary. He looked down at Kurapika, who was still crouched on the ground, though he had relaxed considerably. No doubt, it was just one of the Emperor's idiots. "Well, where's my thank you?"

"Pardon?" Kurapika responded, flatly.

"Don't mind him," another, smaller man said, his voice a mix between a hiss and a whisper. His eyes narrowed and the lower half of his face concealed behind a mask. "He's an idiot."

"S'that so?" Kurapika slurred, the adrenaline wearing off now, replaced by the same intoxication. He swayed a bit upon standing, falling back against the railing. The giant raised an eyebrow.

"Eh, are you drunk, kid?" he asked, sounding almost concerned now. Which was ridiculous. Why would one of the Emperor's idiots care about him? Oh, maybe it was his newfound status. That could be it.

The small man snickered. "As a sailor on shore leave."

"I am not," Kurapika protested, drunkenly, pushing himself off the railing and promptly losing his balance.

. . .

Not long after Kurapika found himself passed out, did Chrollo's faithful servants barge into his room unannounced with the young man hanging limp in Uvogin's arms. His vengeful consort looked as beautiful as ever, his porcelain skin threatened a fragility that hadn't been there before, his cheeks tinged pink from the alcohol.

Chrollo rolled over to his other side, away from the door and Uvogin. He was far too tired for this. "Just drop him on the divan."

"Are you sure? He's pretty drunk."

"Yes. Close the door on your way out," Chrollo ordered, before allowing himself to sink into sleep again, trusting Uvo to do as he said. His dreams never reach him in the palace. His body won't let him fall far enough into sleep to enter a different reality. He needed to be present at all times. Kurapika didn't seem to have as much trouble, his breathing too rapid for someone clenched in the darkness of dreamless sleep. It wasn't until much later that he awoke to the sound of muttered swearing. Kurapika sat on the golden divan, his feet tucked under him as his hands clutched his hair.

"Tsk," he murmured, still believing he was alone in the room, "damn alcohol."

Chrollo smirked, though his eyes fell closed again. "You reap what you sow."

His consort laughed, bitterly, and it was clear he wasn't in the healthiest state of mind at the moment. "I certainly hope so."

"Are we losing it already, my dear Prince? We're only on day two," Emperor spoke, knowing the man wouldn't respond well to such provocation and somehow looking forward to it.

He felt the bed tip a bit as extra weight was put on it. Turning to him, Emperor's orbs met Kurapika's much livelier, much angrier ones.

"Have I hit a nerve?"

. . .

"Don't mock me," he seethed, imaginary knives stabbing through his skull, splitting it into two. He ignored the pain, ignored the fact that he was letting go. The young consort straddled his waist, and the Emperor only smiled at him, smug despite the fact he was pinned down to his own bed.

The Emperor took hold of his hands, and Kurapika blocked out the caress of his fingers as he placed his own on his neck. "How does it feel, knowing my life is in your hands?"

"I'm not going to kill you now," Kurapika said, indignantly. He wasn't an amateur, for God's sake.

"But you could."

There was silence, as Kurapika processed the reasoning behind his words. Their world was filled with birdsong and rustling leaves.

Ah, this was part of the game. He was trying to force his hand. The vengeful side - quite large, mind you - of Kurapika wanted to catch him off guard somehow. It was rather irritating that the man seemed so untouchable. Yesterday, though, the look in his eyes was unmistakeably shaken.

Kurapika's hands slid away from his neck and down to his clothed chest. He braced himself for whatever wave of emotion would come after this, and then leaned down to place a few kisses along the Emperor's clavicle.

"You -" The Emperor said just as Kurapika met his lips. What luck.

"Good morning, Dan-Dan - oh, dear god!" Shalnark covered a wide grin with his hand. "Have some tact, at least wait until you're married!"

The Emperor chuckled, sitting up, and Kurapika backed away without another word. "I believe there's no law against consummating our relationship before marriage."

Kurapika glared at him. The Emperor offered him a simple, innocent smile. Shalnark's green eyes flit between the two, and, realizing he was intruding on a rather intimate moment and hadn't yet evacuated the area, he quickly retreated back behind the screen door.

The young consort turned back to his lover. "What did you mean by that?"

"You certainly don't shy away from this sort of thing," the Emperor yawned, getting up from the bed and stretching. "Don't worry about it." He leaned down and cupped his chin. "Just because you're my consort, does not mean we're lovers."

"Yes, it does."

The Emperor's smile dropped. "You're quite an argumentative little Prince, aren't you? I'm the Emperor, I decide what you are."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "Pardon my rudeness."

"So, no more of your displays of affection, my Prince," the Emperor said, standing. "Relax. You're not going to win our game by forcing yourself to damage your psyche."

He raised his eyebrow, clearly waiting for Kurapika's agreement. All he got was a small indignant scoff and a sudden aversion to eye contact, but that seemed to be enough for him. Without another word, the Emperor walked away from his slightly perplexed consort, towards what was probably his bathing area.

Hearing the sound of gushing water, Kurapika fell back on the bed and ran the last few minutes back through his head.

Was it just him, or had he just been rejected?

How strange. Mother had expected the Emperor to have a much healthier sexual appetite. When all else failed, she always told him seduction was the way to go. But it seemed, he couldn't quite be seduced.

Kurapika's eyes fell on the door to the bathing area. Could it be? The man actually had some virtuous qualities.

Impossible. This must be a part of one of his schemes, somehow. A part of this game they were playing. Kurapika still wasn't quite sure what the terms were, but they were certainly tipped in the Emperor's favor at the moment. If only he knew how to win, or even more importantly, how not to lose.

. . .

"A party?" Kurapika had long since found that only two major emotions seemed to circulate within him when the Emperor was not involved, exasperation and incredulity.

"Technically, it's a Festival," Shalnark corrected. "And it's in honor of the consorts. That's why it's called the Consort's Festival."

"I never would've guessed," Kurapika replied, humorlessly.

Shalnark pouted. "Are you still mad about the tea incident, Kurapika-daegam? I was just trying to speed things along."

Kurapika blinked rapidly, then tilted his head to the side. "I'm not mad." If anything, he was just a bit tired. It was odd, but he couldn't seem to get truly mad at Shalnark. Annoyed, maybe. Ready to seal his mouth together with some sort of adhesive at times, certainly. But nothing quite like the anger he thought he'd feel. Perhaps, it was the rational part of him that refused to hate someone blindly. Whenever he thought about the murderer of his parents, it was the Emperor's face that was ingrained in his mind, not Shalnark's.

"You seem mad," Shalnark murmured, but then he shrugged. "Well, the festival spans three days and starts next week. So, you know, prepare yourself?"

"I will," he replied, sinking further into the sudsy, soapy water. An expectant expression crossed his face. Shalnark blushed a bit, laughing nervously as he walked to the door.

"Right, I'll leave now. Pardon my barging in," Shalnark said, bowing and leaving the room. Kurapika sighed. How did these people always catch him in some state of undress?

The door slid open as quickly as it had closed, and Kurapika instinctively went rigid. Shalnark's head popped back in the gap left by the screen.

"Oh, by the way, would you prefer a sweet or savory breakfast?"

"I don't mind either way."

"Okay, I'll get you the same thing as Danchou, then!" he chirped, shutting the door behind him.

Kurapika heaved a sigh again, relaxing considerably. He's been sighing a lot lately.

. End of Chapter .

~ Replies to Reviewers ~

Unreadable0: (ch 2) I'm glad you think so, because that's definitely what I was going for. I've noticed that in some of my fics Kuroro is just a bit too nice and normal for my liking and I really wanted to capture that Danchou persona in this fic. So, here we are. And I'm excited to see both our MCs develop in this fic. It's going to be quite an emotional rollercoaster for both of them. I hope I make you question your ship choices even more now that Leorio's got a fair chance in this fic. (ch 3) I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'm really trying to do them justice, especially in their interactions with one another. It's a romance fic, after all. They need some of that spice. Thanks for reviewing! And I'm sorry I haven't reviewed Help Not Wanted yet. I've been so busy lately that I haven't gotten around to it, what with writing and job-searching and school.

Sweets Dreamer: (ch 2) Yeah, I was thinking more along the lines of Kikyo from Inuyasha, and totally forgot about Killua's mom. That certainly would've made things more complicated. Unfortunately, I needed Killua to exist in this fic. You will love all the Spiders. At least, you should. Hmm, coldblooded-but-softies-at-heart BFFs or Blonde-and-compassionate-but-still-could-kick-your-ass BFFs. Decisions, decisions. I'll definitely have to have Pika interact with Paku in this fic. Kurapika is the original sassy gay friend. (ch 3) There'll be a lot more kissing coming up my friend. A lot more. Though, not yet, because Kuroro just rejected Pika's advances (never thought I'd write that phrase). Kura is still the self-destructive little asshole he's always been. Kuroro's objectives are left pretty unclear on purpose, partly because it's Kuroro and he doesn't really care to give even himself a viable explanation for his actions. Thank you! I definitely put a lot of thought into this one since there's so much going on behind the scenes. It's great to have a story that keeps changing your perspective. I'm glad you're enjoying it!

lostdog200: I hope it only gets more and more interesting as it goes on and more is revealed about both Kura's and Kuroro's pasts. Thank you so much for reviewing!

Marie 86: Here's another update. I glad you're enjoying the story, and thank you for reviewing!

MedusaLegend: Kuroro is a very complicated man. But yeah, he mostly thinks it'll be fun to watch Kurapika desperately try to kill him while appearing innocent. Paku and Kuroro are currently just childhood friends in my head. Thanks for reviewing :)

Rentaminya: (ch 1) I'll try to keep the chapter updates more frequent now, haha. I'm glad you like it. (ch 2) They are, aren't they? They'll be even cuter once they really fall in love ; ). (ch 3) Kuroro is a real renaissance man, but he's still got some coolness to him. We'll really see this part of him later on. And I hope to write them falling in love soon, but at the same time I don't wanna rush it, so we'll see. Maybe a few chapters more before they start to fall for each other. Thanks for reviewing and I hope to hear more from you!

~ End of Replies.