Turn it on, turn it up, turn it over and we'll start again

~"Over and Over," Goo Goo Dolls


I'm indebted to someone I hate.

No matter how many times Leorio, Killua, and Alluka asked him if he was okay, Kurapika kept insisting he was. But he wasn't. He couldn't believe he'd let this happen.

But what else was he supposed to do? Let Oito suffer? There was a baby involved, for God's sake. Kurapika was a better person than that.

He made his way to the first Russian Lit class since then. His heart pounded. He'd see Tserriednich, and Chrollo. But at least he wasn't indebted to Tserriednich, though he probably had more to fear from that particular brand of asshole. Chrollo had texted Kurapika yesterday to let him know Oito was doing well.

Kurapika headed into the classroom, taking note of Tserriednich sitting in his normal seat. The man's eyes gleamed.

Fuck. Kurapika dropped into his own usual seat, folding his arms and hoping to be left alone. Professor Hill was going to be obnoxious today, judging by the way he was humming at his desk as he waited for them to trickle into the classroom. Chrollo didn't look at Kurapika.

When class was over, Kurapika scrambled to escape. He barely made it two steps out of the classroom before he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Get your hands off me."

"Where is she?"

"What are you, some kind of stalker?" Kurapika yanked his shoulder out of Tserriednich's grip. He marched away.

"I'll find her," Tserriednich called.

"And what, assault her too? You and your father are shitheads," said Kurapika, turning around to glare at the man. "Do you even see her as a person? That baby's your sister."

"She's a slut."

"I don't give a shit; it's wrong to hit—"

"Well," said Tserriednich. "I see she's worked her slutty magic on you as well."

"On the contrary, I don't go for women," Kurapika snapped.

Tserriednich let out a snort. "Well, tell her I'll find her. And I'll make sure that my father wins in court and takes that brat away from her."

Just because you want to hurt her? Kurapika balled his fist.

"Then she'll be completely alone. Which is exactly what you are, isn't it? No parents, no—"

Kurapika swung. Tserriednich yelped. He clearly hadn't been expecting Kurapika to actually attack him. Well, Kurapika wasn't the sort to just sit back and take it. He'd spent his middle school and high school years making sure anyone who mocked Pairo regretted it.

You aren't a burden to me, Pairo.

The burden is my own.

It's all my fault.

"Oh my, how humiliating for the mighty prince of Kakin. That's what you fancy yourself, isn't it?"

Kurapika looked up to see Chrollo peering down at Tserriednich, smirking as the other man cowered on the ground. Blood streamed from his broken nose.

"Get lost," snuffled Tserriednich. "He—hates you too."

"I know. But this was more than entertaining," Chrollo observed, running his hand through his hair. He turned and stalked off. Kurapika hesitated, and then gave Tserriednich one last kick before he rushed after Chrollo.

"That was impressive," Chrollo commented. "No, I don't plan to turn you in, though if you're worried he'll go to the police, I wouldn't. He'll be too humiliated."

"You read people too well," Kurapika commented. "He is looking for Oito. He said he'd find her."

Chrollo narrowed his eyes. "He won't get her. I'd dare him to try; most of us in that house spent time on the streets. We can take his shit."

"You're assuming he'll fight fair," Kurapika said. "He's the son of a political science professor. I doubt it."

Chrollo spun around. "Why does she matter to you?"

"I've seen enough hurt in my life," said Kurapika. "I'd prefer to protect instead of hurting."

"That really doesn't fit with what I know about you, but okay," said Chrollo, nose wrinkling.

"How about you?" Kurapika demanded. "Why are you taking her in? Is it just to get in my pants after all, since you failed last year?"

Chrollo laughed. "You really esteem yourself so highly?"

Kurapika gritted his teeth.

"Not that you'd be interested, since you seem to prefer rushing ahead and passing sentences, but I should tell you that what I said about most of us spending time on the streets is true. We're all society's outcasts. We don't exist. And fine, we don't have to, but I at least have a place for us right now. That house." Chrollo looked down at him. The wind blew his hair around his face. Last year he'd worn it slicked back, and having it down was so much a better look for him. The cross tattoo stood prominent on his forehead. "Whatever happens to me in the future, at least it exists."

Kurapika didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think it's better to have parents and lose them, or to never have them at all?" Chrollo asked. "I'd say you have it worse."

Kurapika flinched. A leaf blew through the air, twisting and tumbling, cut off from its life source.

"I didn't know," said Chrollo. "For the record, Kurapika."

Kurapika lowered his head.

"You were just something I could use against Hisoka."

"I'm aware." A few drunken makeout sessions, and Pairo insisting Chrollo was just using him, and Kurapika refusing to believe him because—he just wanted to believe someone wanted him.

I always tried to earn it.

Mom? Dad? Did you want me? Or was I just something to brag about?

Pairo, do you want me?

"I'm sorry," said Chrollo.

Kurapika glanced at him, eyes widening.

Chrollo shifted. "If you want to come see Oito, you are welcome to. I know she's feeling guilty and like enough of a burden, though, so…"

We shouldn't tell her about Tserriednich. "I somehow suspect she'll find out," said Kurapika. "She seemed smart."

I read people, too.

"Probably," said Chrollo. "It's not sustainable, though."

"Believe me, I know." He thought of Killua and Alluka.

Chrollo frowned but didn't press. "Well, I think Phinks is trying to work out a longer plan for her."

"I have a friend who has a lawyer friend," Kurapika said. "I can give you her number. Her name's Cheadle. If Oito wants to contact her—well, Cheadle's just a law student, but—"

"I don't like that phrase," commented Chrollo. "'Just a student.' What else would you be? Are you ever an expert?"

Kurapika shut his mouth. "I seem to remember you bragging about yourself a few times. It's almost as if you have a cult following if the rumors are correct, so—"

"It's just my role," said Chrollo, with a shrug. "The one fate gave me."

"Fate's not very nice."

"Probably not."

Will I ever be wanted?

He looked at Chrollo, and he wondered what on earth this man wanted.


"You wanted to meet with me?" Hisoka knew he was late by eight minutes, and he didn't care. He'd already missed two meetings last semester, though, and he had to do the bare minimum to graduate. It'd bring him more opportunities in life.

"I did," confirmed Netero, the president of Kakin University. "Have a seat."

Hisoka dropped into a chair, slouching. Books on kundalini and Buddhist transcendentalism were stacked on the man's desk. A window behind the desk opened up to a view of the entire campus. Hisoka tapped his long nails against his arm as he waited.

"I wanted to discuss your grades and behavior," Netero said.

Hisoka arched an eyebrow. "My grades are fine."

"They could be better, and if you get thrown out of another class, your GPA will automatically drop, and you'll lose your scholarship."

Fuck, fun ended. Well, it was for greater fun later. "I won't get thrown out of another class, then." Hisoka straightened.

"I get the feeling you're not really trying," Netero said, resting his chin on his fist and studying Hisoka with those beady eyes of his.

Hisoka took in a photograph of a bearded man who bore more than a little resemblance to the president, but the photograph was facing away from Netero, as if he didn't really want to see his son's face. A smile curved Hisoka's lips. You're no different, are you? You're just another selfish person out for fun in this world.

Why do you have to pretend? Wouldn't it be more fun for you if you could just let it go? "Am I graded on effort?"

"No," said Netero. "You're graded on performance."

"I'm aware; it was rhetorical."

Netero's eyes narrowed. "You might want to keep in mind that you'll need recommendation letters for—"

"What? Graduate school? I don't plan on that. I want to have fun. A good life."

"A job, then."

Hisoka shifted. "I'll sell my art. Or act in local performances."

"For someone so talented," said Netero. "It's a shame you're so lazy."

Hisoka narrowed his eyes. "I'm not lazy."

"And you're a liar."

"Did you invite me here to challenge me to a battle of wits?" Hisoka quipped. "I see you are unarmed."

"Shakespeare. Cute." Netero didn't seem amused. "You love challenges. You seek them out, taking the strangest electives because you want to push yourself, but that doesn't make you not lazy."

"Look," said Hisoka. "I'm in philosophy right now, and I'll tell you I like hedonism. Enjoy your life and then you die. That's why I'm here at school. Not because I believe in the value of an esoteric education, but because I want to have fun and I like the challenge. When I'm done I won't hesitate to leave and I won't care. Not having recommendations is just a new challenge."

"How's your living situation?" Netero tried.

"Fun," Hisoka said. "I like being off-campus. Less rules."

"Fine," Netero said shortly. "Next time you'll be called in here, it'll be to expel you. That's a challenge I encourage you not to take."

"Seems too boring for me anyways." Hisoka rose. "Can I go?"

"Yes." Netero seemed more than a little annoyed.

Hisoka almost bumped into Meruem, heading to meet with Netero. Meruem had almost got expelled last year, that he knew, but seemed to have turned it around. How dull.

Hisoka went to class and spent it sketching in his notebook. When he headed back to the house, he found Illumi arriving back around the same time. "How was class?"

"Fine," Illumi answered. "Kalluto is staying with Milluki for the night. He got a good grade on his exam, so I gave him his Sailor Moon figurine back."

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "You and Netero should team up to be obnoxious together."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Illumi yanked the door open. Chrollo sat on the couch, perusing a book. Oito chatted with Nobunaga while Woble slept on her lap.

Hisoka slipped his hand into Illumi's to annoy Chrollo. Illumi leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. Too sugary.

But Chrollo now rolled his eyes. "I'm heading up to the attic."

"The hell is in this attic?" Illumi asked as he followed Hisoka up the stairs, disentangling his hand from Hisoka's. Hisoka's fingers felt cold. "An enchanted rose?"

"No idea." That was a lie and Illumi could tell Hisoka knew it. But that was something he didn't care to wreck for Chrollo. Not yet.

"How did your meeting with the president go?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Don't leave your laptop open." Illumi ran his hands through his hair. Hisoka followed Illumi into his room. So empty. And yet not boring. The corners and dusty shelves looked as if they were just waiting to be filled.

"So you're spying on me."

"Only when I feel like it." Illumi removed his books from his bag, neatly stacking them on his bureau. The mirror waved in one corner, distorting Illumi's reflection.

"Whatever. He wanted to nag me about behaving better and getting better grades so I can get recommendations and join society like he did."

Illumi dropped onto the bed, staring up at him. "What do you plan to do then, exactly?"

"Be like you. On the outskirts of society. It's boring in there."

"I follow rules."

"You're still just observing. Both of us, and Chrollo." Hisoka pinched his hair. "Or don't you see your family as separate? The Zoldycks, the holy—"

Illumi pressed his lips together. Hisoka wasn't wrong. "Why did you and Chrollo end your friends-with-benefits arrangement?"

"Sleeping with a housemate is a bad idea," Hisoka responded. "Well, if you like order. I like chaos." He sat on the opposite side of the bed and winked.

"Why?" asked Illumi.

Hisoka snorted. He produced a stress ball from his pocket and tossed it up in the air, catching it when it fell. Toss, catch. Toss, catch. He never missed, so he started widening the toss so he'd have to lean and catch it.

He used to see parents walking kids home from schools, kids given normal bedtimes, parents, kids, parents, kids, and he had none of that. When he showed up to school the teachers would berate him for not wearing the required uniform and for not listening. But he just wanted to explore, to see what there really was in the world, and reading a goddamn textbook written by someone who had never smelled an emotion in their life was not all there was.

Chrollo wanted more. Hisoka knew that. And his lies to himself were tiresome.

"Why do you care?" he asked.

"I don't," said Illumi. "I'm just curious."

"Curiosity," said Hisoka. "I don't want attachments. All you want is attachments but only to select people. Chrollo wants to pretend he's aloof when really he's anything but. And he wants fun too. You wouldn't know fun if you shoved it up your own ass."

Illumi glared at him.

"Life is just death anyways," said Hisoka. "Might as well enjoy what I can." He squeezed the ball, finally. It was shaped like a heart.

"It is not."

"Everyone's gonna die, Illumi. I hate to break it to you, but that includes your grandfather, your parents, your—"

"Stop!" Illumi clamped his hands over his ears.

What a baby.

"If my family continues, and our company with it, then it doesn't matter," said Illumi, chest heaving. "That's—a way of living."

"I don't see the point. They don't love you. Killua, Kalluto, Milluki."

"Yes," Illumi countered, leaning closer. "They do."

Hisoka snorted. Illumi was so confident in his lies. "You're just in a prison but since it's named Zoldyck, you don't mind. You follow orders. You'll go wherever they go."

"I am not."

"Tell me, Illumi, when's the last time you did anything for yourself?"

"Fake-dating you," Illumi responded.

"That's for me, not for you."

"Why do you care?" Illumi asked.

Hisoka dug his nails into the heart-ball. "I don't. I just find you interesting."

"You just want to be noticed," Illumi said.

"Excuse me?"

Footsteps sounded outside Illumi's room. Illumi dove in, kissing Hisoka, loudly. Suck it, Chrollo. Illumi's tongue was warm against his. Illumi got onto his knees, bending down to grip Hisoka's skull. Illumi's hair fell around them like a curtain cutting them off from the world.

You are such a bundle of contradictions. Hisoka pushed Illumi back against the wall, and Illumi let out a groan. He found Illumi's neck and nipped at it. Illumi responded by biting his lip. Hisoka sucked in his breath.

Illumi broke away.

"Sorry," Hisoka panted. "You're a surprisingly good kisser."

"Surprisingly?"

"I thought it'd be like kissing a sad noodle."

Illumi glared, and then his eyes widened when he realized Hisoka was joking. A small smile spread across his face. Hisoka knew Illumi was stronger than he looked, and he wanted to see that, wanted to see him pushed to his limits, wanted to see him explore.

I wish you were free.

"See ya," said Hisoka, rising.

Illumi caught his wrist.

Hisoka turned.

"My brother isn't here now," said Illumi, looking up at him. A bruise already formed on his neck. "You said I should do something for myself."

"You also said no sex," Hisoka pointed out. His heart thudded in his chest. Are you for real right now?

"Up to you," said Illumi. "But I don't make offers like this very often."

"Have you ever?"

"Not with a man." Illumi peered up at him.

Notice me.

You clearly have.

Hisoka settled down next to him, cupping Illumi's head. He pressed his lips against his, opening Illumi's mouth. Blood surged through him.

"Do you have a condom?" Illumi rasped.

"I come prepared." Hisoka dug into his pocket, pulling out a packet.

"I don't even want to think about the implications of that."

"I do get tested regularly."

"That wasn't what I meant and if you keep talking you're going to turn me off."

Hisoka frowned. It sounded like Illumi was talking like this was a business transaction. Which he supposed it was, since it was part of their agreement—well, an extension thereof. But… I want to make sure you enjoy yourself. "Do you want to be on top, or me?"

"This is all very complicated." Illumi cocked his head. "I don't have a preference."

"Well, since I clearly have more experience, I'll be on top," Hisoka decided.

"Fine by me." Illumi tossed his hair. "Last time I was on top, and I didn't enjoy it very much."

Last time… "Are you sure you want to do this?" Hisoka asked, studying Illumi's face.

Illumi moved Hisoka's hand to his crotch as if to answer that. Okay then.

Clothes came off slowly, and Hisoka noticed that he could see Illumi's abs, each one perfectly sculpted. He traced them with his fingernails, trailing kisses up and down his torso.

Illumi closed his eyes.

"Pain?" Hisoka asked. And something burned in his fingertips. He wanted Illumi to open his eyes. He needed Illumi to open his eyes.

I'm here.

"No," Illumi managed. And his eyes opened, those doll eyes that he had, and he met Hisoka's gaze. A smile twitched on his swollen lips. Hair stuck to his forehead.

You're here.

You want to be, and I want to be here too.

This was what kept him here, rooted him, convinced him he could stay instead of going mad. Moments like this. Fire, shooting through him. Waves of something better. Illumi's chest, sweat glistening on his neck, his lips grappling for Hisoka's. He felt wanted. He could feel every breath surging in and out of his lungs, up through his throat, his mouth, his nose. Illumi's hands gripped his back, digging in. He was shaking, and Illumi too, and he tightened his arms around Illumi and Illumi tightened his arms around him.

Why did you keep seeking me out last year? Or the year before? Did you subconsciously want this? Or what?

They both lay there, panting.

Illumi, you fascinate me.

"Thank you for being quiet," said Illumi. "I didn't want Chrollo to hear."

Oh. Right. Hisoka swallowed.