A/N: It's been so long since I've last wrote something for this fic, I don't even remember what I wrote. Was it Dimitri or Demitri? I don't know. I don't care. Goodness, this is so long. This takes place several years after the events in Rise From The Ashes. Also, Kurapika and Chrollo both have incredibly healthy sexual appetites. You have been warned.
Rise From The Ashes:
Holiday Special:
In Which Kurapika's Present Nearly Gives Chrollo a Heart Attack
November 20th, XX26 : Age 25 : In the Mall
They had bought gifts for all the Spiders, all of Kurapika's friends, and a few for Kurapika's employer. By the time they neared the end of their little field trip, only one person remained on their gift-giving list. Chrollo Lucilfer. And Kurapika was halfway to being driven insane.
"How about we buy him this, Kurapika?" Shalnark asked, showing off some kind of antique hand mirror.
"No."
"This?" Nobu picked up a sort of sapphire case.
"No."
"This?"
"No."
They went back-and-forth like that for thirty minutes, before Kurapika finally gave up and called his lover.
"Is something wrong?" Chrollo asked, sounding distracted.
Kurapika smiled. He was probably reading a book, by the fireplace, in that chair he always liked to sit in. Like a cat. A Chrollo cat. "No. I'm fine. I was just wondering if you had anything in mind that you wanted me to get?"
Chrollo hummed in acknowledgment, and Kurapika vaguely heard the sound of a page turning. Nailed it. "Anything is fine, really. Just come back soon. I miss you."
Kurapika rolled his eyes. How sweet. How absolutely useless. "Are you sure? Not even a vague idea?"
"You, preferably coming back within the hour," he replied, flirtatiously.
Lips pulled into a thin line. "I meant for Christmas."
"Isn't that still a month away?" Chrollo asked, and Kurapika could hear the laughter in his voice. It warmed his heart just as much as it plunged it into annoyance.
"I wanted to get a head start," Kurapika replied. "Now, stop laughing and give me something."
"I don't really want anything," Chrollo said, and again the sound of a page turning. "After all, I already have everything I could possibly need. Just get me whatever you'd like."
How dare he put so much pressure on him!?
"Fine, I'll be back within the hour," he sighed. "Bye, Chrollo."
"See you soon, Pika," the man replied.
"Don't call me that." And he hung up, muttering to himself about how he had wound up with such an infuriating man as a partner.
"What did he say?" Nobunaga asked.
"Nothing of importance," the blond replied, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "C'mon, we're going home."
. . .
November 20th, XX26 : Age 25 : The Kurta-Lucilfer Household
"Just stick them in the shed. No one ever goes in there," Kurapika ordered, as he headed into their home. They'd bought it a few months before they got married. A medium-sized house made with white vinyl paneling and a grey tiled roof, situated by the woods and away from the rest of the world. They could afford most any house they'd like, but Kurapika had always liked to keep it simple and Chrollo didn't care much either way. Moving out had been easy with so many people willing to help. The Spiders had been surprisingly accepting of their Danchou moving out.
"I'm home!" Kurapika called, slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat. He shivered a bit. It was freezing outside. Far too cold for November. Sure enough, when he stepped into the living room, he found Chrollo, sitting in an armchair, a book in his hand, and the fire casting a warm glow over him. His hair falling into his eyes, which were aglow, like glowing embers. His clothes, much more casual than his usual suit, just a simple dress shirt and black trousers. How could one person look so carelessly inviting?
Biting his lip, Kurapika shook his head of any less-than-honorable thoughts and walked over to the fire. Kneeling down beside the fireplace, he held his hands out to the flames, relishing the warmth, but he felt eyes on him and they warmed him more than even the fire. He turned around, meeting those eyes with his own chocolate ones, and his husband slipped out of his chair without another word. Muscular arms pulled the blond to the other man's chest, onto his lap, and Kurapika said nothing in protest.
"So, how did Christmas Shopping go?" the man asked, fingers intertwining with the blond's.
"I think it went well enough," Kurapika answered. "No thanks to you."
Chrollo chuckled, and Kurapika felt a smile flit across his face despite his attempt at seriousness. "I'm sorry. However can I make it up to you, darling."
Just like a cat. Ready to pounce as soon as you slip up in your defenses.
"Chrollo," Kurapika, uttered warningly before a pair of lips pressed against his own. Chrollo's arms stayed put around his waist, and Kurapika twisted around on his lap to get a better angle, until the blond was straddling him with his arms gripping his shirt, fiddling with buttons. His breathing became heavier as he pressed himself against his lover, excitement filling him when he finally let his lips part. And then . . .
"Hey, Kurapika, you forgot your pho . . ." Nobunaga trailed off at the sight of them, and Kurapika would have laughed if the man hadn't just cut through the atmosphere like the blade of a knife cutting through butter.
"Hello, Nobu," Chrollo said, refusing to let the blond escape his grip, not that Kurapika was in any mood to struggle his way out of it. "Leave the phone on that table over there."
Nobunaga, still in shock, stiffly walked over to the table and dropped the sleek, black device on it. Kurapika had placed his chin on Chrollo's shoulder by then, almost impatiently. The dark-haired man ran a hand through his blond locks.
The samurai-wannabe left the room, but neither of them did anything until they heard the door slam shut.
Kurapika sighed. "I told you giving them all copies of our keys was a bad idea."
"It would be an inconvenience if I hadn't. Besides, Kortopi had volunteered to make them," Chrollo replied, standing up and pulling the blond with him. "We wouldn't want to disappoint our dear copy machine, now, would we?"
Kurapika pouted. "I suppose not. Well, I'm going for a shower. My feet are still completely frozen."
Chrollo planted a peck on his lips. "Go on, then. I'll join you in a few."
"Fine," Kurapika replied. "But hurry up."
"Don't want to be kept waiting?"
"Don't want all the hot water to run out. Our bill's high enough." And with that he left, climbing the stairs and disappearing into the corridor.
. . .
December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurapika and Chrollo's bedroom
Maybe he should just buy him a book. Chrollo loved books. He lived and breathed books. Besides Kurapika and the Spiders, they were probably the only things he would die for. But . . . but books were so . . . obvious. It was what Chrollo would expect from him. It was also something he could get himself.
He needed to get him something special. Maybe, a cat. Chrollo liked cats. He also liked dogs. He liked animals in general. A pet would be nice.
But, what kind of pet? What if Chrollo didn't like it? What if it didn't like Chrollo? What if one of the Spiders were actually allergic? And how would they keep it secret from him?
Kurapika groaned. This was impossible. How did one buy something for a man who seemingly had everything? Last year had been easy. His Christmas present had just been returning to Chrollo after a few years of evading him and another two months of trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. It had been the only thing he was missing. Now, he had him, his Spiders were all intact, and he could pretty much buy anything on the face of the planet if he chose to. Anything he could possibly want he would've gotten already.
The blond turned on his side, towards his lover who was still sound asleep and showed no signs of waking up soon.
"You're a real pain sometimes, you know that?" Kurapika muttered, reaching up and brushing some dark hair away from his lidded eyes. The man didn't even twitch. He looked the same as ever, a neutral look on his face. There was an arm wrapped around his waist, safe and secure. Kurapika traced it with icy fingertips from knuckle to shoulder and back again. And then, they were caged.
"You're freezing again, Pika," Chrollo chided, bringing him closer.
"I'm fine," he replied, though he let himself get pulled against the other man, hands falling on his chest. "I've been through worst."
Chrollo pressed his forehead to Kurapika's, and neither of them moved for those few seconds.
"What's bothering you?" he finally asked.
Kurapika smiled. "Nothing. For now."
"Ominous," the dark-haired man spoke, before planting a kiss on him. Kurapika responded with as much fervor as he could muster so early in the morning. The parted and Chrollo's lips slipped down to his neck.
"Chrollo," Kurapika managed. "What are you doing?"
"Warming you up," he answered, nipping at the blond's collarbone. Kurapika pulled at the man's chin, capturing his lips once more.
Kurapika let out a low moan, wrapping his arms around his neck. And then, his alarm went off.
Work. Right. He still had work to go to. Sheriff Mizaistom would kill him if he was late again.
"How much time can you spare?" Chrollo whispers against his skin.
Kurapika calculated the numbers in his mind. "Five minutes tops mmph!"
. . .
December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : The Kitchen
In the twenty-ish minutes it took Kurapika to shower and get dressed, Chrollo had made him breakfast.
"You didn't have to . . . you know I don't eat breakfast," Kurapika reminded. "I don't have time."
"So, you just drink coffee and grab an apple," Chrollo finished. "You also know that I disagree with your eating habits and make these meals for you anyway. So, stop complaining and eat."
Kurapika smirked, crossing his arms. "Are you my husband or my mother?"
Chrollo laid out two plates for them both. "I'm a man who would very much like his partner to be healthy enough to not faint in the middle of a case."
"It was one time. We weren't even doing anything!" Kurapika insisted.
"You're wasting time. Now, eat."
The blond's forehead furrowed. It was rare for him to take something so seriously. He left it alone, though. Instead, sitting down and cutting into his pancakes.
"They taste different than usual," he said, after letting the taste settle in. "It tastes like . . . gingerbread."
"They were Dimitri's favorite," Chrollo answered, simply. "I thought we could afford something more festive."
Dimitri. Chrollo's brother. Of course, how had he not thought of it sooner?
Kurapika sliced another piece of pancake. "You miss him, huh?" He popped the breakfast food into his mouth.
"Sometimes," Chrollo answered, though Kurapika had a sneaking suspicion it was a little more often than just sometimes.
"I know I miss them," Kurapika whispered. "Every day. I wonder what they'd say if they were still alive. If they'd be proud, or disappointed, or worried."
"Why would they be disappointed?"
"I married a wanted thief and killed two people," the blond deadpanned.
Chrollo leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "I would've won them over eventually."
"You'd be surprised," Kurapika murmured, prodding at his food. A hand cupped his cheek. Chrollo stared at him with dark, intense eyes. Like . . . like really dark coffee. No sugar, no cream, premium.
He really needed his coffee.
No, no, they were having a moment. He couldn't just ruin it like this.
"The people you killed were vile murderers who would've inevitably gone on to kill hundreds of other people. You caught a serial killer by putting your life at risk for a case that no one else would take. And you stopped a man from falling even deeper into a darkness he couldn't control. They have plenty to be proud of. And if they're not, let me assure you I will be ten times prouder to make up for it."
Heat rushed to his face and painted it red, but he managed a smirk and nuzzled into his hand. "How cheesy."
"It's a fact," Chrollo replied.
The blond put his hand over Chrollo's and removed it from his cheek. "See, this kind of talk is why I'm always late."
Chrollo put on that devilish smirk. "Oh, I know."
But not today. Today, Kurapika would be strong.
. . .
December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Police Station
"Detective," Mizaistom said, as soon as the blond emerged from the cold. "My office, now."
Kurapika raised an eyebrow but followed the taller man regardless. The Sheriff's office was a large room with two coffee tables on either side. Light filtered in from outside, the blinds were pulled up. That was good, at least. It couldn't be too bad if the blinds were still up.
Behind the desk, sat Sheriff Mizaistom in his cow-patterned chair. He steepled his fingers, a serious expression on his face. Right beside the desk stood a tall, muscular man with fair, curly hair, dressed in a suit. He had a handsome, square face and dark, intelligent eyes, and had Kurapika not been completely enamored with Chrollo, he might've felt his heart skip a beat. But he was, and all he felt was a friendly twinge of familiarity.
"I believe you two know each other?" Mizaistom said, gesturing to the man.
"We do," Bhavimania replied, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake. Kurapika took it. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, detective."
"The pleasure is all mine," Kurapika responded, charming as usual. "Forgive me for asking, but what's an FBI agent doing in our humble town? I do not believe anything warrants this? At least, I hope not."
Bhavimania smiled, fondly, and Kurapika stiffened just a little bit. "I'm here for you. We just got a case and I think you and Bill are just the people for it."
"What's the case?"
Bhavimania smile fell. He let out a sigh and Kurapika finally saw how tired the man was, noticed the purple shadows under his eyes. Now, unless he had taken to putting on eyeshadow, this meant this case was bad enough to keep him up. An impressive feat in and of itself, since Bhavimania's health-consciousness, was second to none.
"It would seem that Tserriednich had . . . followers," Bhavimania said. "They're picking up where he left off."
Cleansing the world of the stupid and ignorant. Making art of the rare talented individual. He'd suspected this but had thought time had proved him wrong.
"I see," he finally uttered, shifting a bit. "I'll help in any way I can."
"And Bill?"
"He's with his family for the weekend, but I'll talk to him on Monday," Kurapika said.
"Here's the complete case file," Bhavimania added, reaching into his suitcase and pulling out a sleek, black folder. Kurapika accepted it, opening it and glimpsing some rather gruesome photos of mutilated men and women, accompanied by full reports on the crime scene.
"If that is all, I'll be leaving now."
Both men nodded curtly, and Kurapika disappeared through the door.
It wasn't until he got to his desk that he finally let a bit of his panic seep into his face. An entire faction of Tserriednichs? He'd had trouble just taking down one. How could he even begin to take down an entire faction?
And what about Chrollo's birthday present?
Damn, where was Bill when he needed him? It wasn't like he could go to Pairo about this sort of thing? Who asked their ex-boyfriend about this sort of thing? Only a sadist. He wasn't a sadist.
What about Leorio?
He couldn't even hold down a relationship for more than a month and barely managed his life as it was. How could he even begin to help him track down Dimitri?
Kurapika groaned, flopping his head down on the desk. Before picking himself back up and opening the case file.
Time to get to work, then.
. . .
December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Outside the Police Station
"Heading back home?" Bhavimania emerged after him, a neutral expression on his face.
"Yeah, my coffee intake can only last so long, after all," Kurapika replied, putting on a mask of politeness.
Bhavimania chuckled. "Well, I'll get out of your hair, then. Just one question."
"Shoot."
"Do you intend to tell anyone about this case?" Bhavimania asked, serious again.
"No," the blond replied, "but Chrollo always had a knack for getting me to open up to him, so I'll probably spill eventually."
Bhavimania's face lit up in recognition. "Lucilfer? Your thief of a boyfriend?"
"Husband, now, actually," Kurapika shot back, politely, as he placed a strand of golden hair behind his ear. "And he's not a thief anymore."
Something akin to disappointment flit across his face, but it was quickly tamed. "Congratulations. How long have you been married?"
"Six months on the fifteenth."
"Almost half a year. I wish you many more," Bhavimania stated.
Well, this was awkward. Almost as awkward as having Pairo at the wedding, staring at him from time to time, longingly. Thankfully, by now the poor man had moved on more or less to another. More or less.
"Thank you." He began to make his way down the steps, to his car.
"What did you surmise from the file?" So, this was what he'd come here for.
"Not much yet. Each attack is different. Some more elegant, others far cruder, others incredibly painful," Kurapika answered, weighing his words. "It's like Tserriednich all over again. They're making 'art' out of things they believe to be worthless. Giving it worth. And each artist has their own way of doing things."
Bhavimania let a smile curl on his lips. "As expected, you really are the perfect man for this case. You understand exactly how these people think."
"Thank you?"
Bhavimania's lips parted in horror. And Kurapika held back a laugh. It was fun seeing him so nervous about something. "I didn't mean it like that!"
"It's okay. I understand."
"Well," Bhavimania started. "Congratulations again, on your marriage. Best not to keep your not-at-all-a-thief waiting."
Kurapika narrowed his eyes at the sarcasm but gave him a smirk anyway and headed to his vehicle.
. . .
December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household
"I'm home!" Kurapika called, walking into the living room. Chrollo wasn't there. Perhaps, he was in the Kitchen? Nope. Dining room? No. Bedroom? Yes.
"What are you doing?" Kurapika asked, sitting down on the floor beside him. Before him, stood a green-eyes tuxedo cat, playing with a ball of yarn. "Chrollo, what is that?"
"I'm not sure," Chrollo replied. "I think she's a mix between a tuxedo and Turkish van. I'm not sure what to name her, though? I like Snowfall."
"Eh, overused," Kurapika rejected.
"Tuxedo Van?"
Kurapika snorted. "She's a cat, not a store. How about Coffee Cream?"
"Your obsession with coffee is not gonna permeate into our first pet's name. Panda?"
"How about Penguin?"
Chrollo frowned. "But, are we really going to name our cat after another animal? What if it causes her to have an identity crisis? You know, like the one with the dog that thought it was an elephant?"
Kurapika rolled his eyes. "You sound like Gon. Besides, she'd need to actually spend some time with elephants for that to work."
"How about Yin-Yang?" Chrollo asked. "It fits her perfectly. With all those mood swings."
"Mood swings?"
"She couldn't seem to decide whether she wanted to attack me or hug me. Kind of like you. Maybe we should call her Kurapika Jr."
"Yin-Yang sounds good," Kurapika intervened. He didn't much like his own name, and would probably dislike it if it was tacked onto such a cute creature. The blond reached out to pet her, and she let him, purring. "Do you like that, Yin-Yang?"
"Oh, sure, she loves you now," Chrollo said. "Just wait a few hours, you'll see."
"That really does sound like me," Kurapika admitted, leaning against his shoulder. "However did you manage to find a cat version of me?"
"I stole her wallet and paid for her coffee with her money," Chrollo replied.
Kurapika smacked his arm, lightly. "Be serious!"
"Alright, alright," Chrollo sighed. "I found her wandering around outside, so I let her in. After some extensive searches, it turned out her owners died a few months ago and she ran away."
"I told you to stop hacking the government's computer systems," the blond chided.
"It's just a little research," Chrollo insisted.
Kurapika raised an eyebrow. "It's a crime."
"No one was hurt."
"That could qualify as a Class B felony. Twenty years jail time because you wanted to know where some random cat came from," Kurapika replied, leaning away. "I wouldn't be surprised if someone came to arrest you in the coming weeks."
Something sparked behind Chrollo's eyes, a wicked grin on his face, as he advanced on the poor blond. Kurapika leaned away, dutifully, though he didn't really mind Chrollo's proximity to him.
"Well then," Chrollo purred, "why don't you finish the job for them?"
"Chrollo, what did I say about pick-up lines?"
"That I'm not very good at them," Chrollo said, voice still low as his lips brushed his almost teasingly. "And yet, you still married me."
Kurapika hummed. "Whatever was I thinking?"
Chrollo pounced on him, capturing his lips and caging him in his arms. The man suddenly let out a painful groan, releasing his blond lover and turning to pry little Yin-Yang of his ankle. The other man couldn't help but laugh as the proud kitten marched over to him and curled into a ball on his lap.
"My hero," Kurapika chuckled, running his fingers through Yin-Yang's soft fur.
Chrollo just rolled his eyes, leaning back on the palms of his hand with a grumpy look on his face. "Don't encourage her."
The blond smirked, before planting a chaste kiss on the other man's lips. He then stood up, Yin-Yang sound asleep in his arms, and walked downstairs.
"C'mon, it's time for dinner."
. . .
December 6th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kitchen
"You're going to burn that," Chrollo said, peeking at the vegetables Kurapika was currently sauteing.
"No, I'm not. They're fine," Kurapika snapped, glaring at his husband. "Go sit down. I said it was my turn to make dinner."
The dark-haired man pursed his lips, unconvinced.
"What?"
"There's smoke," Chrollo pointed out.
Kurapika scoffed. "It's steam, not smo-"
The fire alarm suddenly went off. The two men shared a look, and Kurapika handed Chrollo the wooden spoon reluctantly.
"Fine, you take over," the blond muttered, crossing his arms and stalking over to one of the cushioned chairs in the dining room.
"So," Chrollo said, turning down the heat on the stove, "how was work?"
Kurapika stiffened. "It was fine."
The dark-haired man glanced at him, already sensing something was wrong. "I see, well, that's good." He placed the meal on a ceramic plate before putting it down in front of Kurapika, who was momentarily too distracted by the delicious stir-fry to notice his partner had disappeared. And for a few seconds, he didn't care. He was hungry. And he would eat whether his husband was there or not, but then, he realized where Chrollo had disappeared to.
The main entrance. Where he'd left the file describing in great, gruesome detail a series of sadistic murders committed by a faction of Tserriednichs, a man that had almost killed him.
The blond shot up from his chair and raced right into Chrollo, practically tackling him, while scrambling to take the sleek, black folder from his hand.
"Give it back, Chrollo!" Kurapika demanded, but Chrollo just held it out of his reach and continued to read the case file with one arm firmly latched around the blonde.
"So, there's more of them," Chrollo muttered, "and they want you to find out who they are."
Kurapika averted his eyes. "Pretty much."
"And you wanted to keep this from me because . . ."
"Well, it is sort of confidential information," Kurapika muttered, trying to escape his clutches, but Chrollo refused to let him go.
"Confidential information that you brought home and left at the door?" the dark-haired man interrogated.
"Well, I didn't expect you to just go through my things without my permission," Kurapika retorted.
Chrollo looked down at him. "I apologize. I wanted answers and knew you wouldn't spill fast enough. For the record, I won't try to stop you."
"I know."
"Then, why are you still worried?"
Kurapika bit his lip in deliberation. "Because I know you'll want to get involved."
"And that is my decision," said his husband, brushing his cheek and loosening his grip.
"You almost di-"
"So did you," Chrollo interrupted, eyes brooding. Kurapika placed his hand over the one splayed across his hip. They were both tired of this sort of thing, he gathered. Tired of always losing one another.
The blond sighed and buried his head in the crook of Chrollo's neck. A hand went up to brush his hair.
"I know," he began. "I just wish I didn't have to drag the people I love into these things."
"Hmm, I love you too," Chrollo replied.
Kurapika rolled his eyes. Of course, that would be what he focused on the most.
"Now," the man said, gripping the blond's shoulders and pushing him away, "go eat."
. . .
December 7th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household
"Working already?" Chrollo asked, sitting down beside the blond on the couch and handing him a mug of coffee. Yin-Yang let one eye slide open, before shutting it again and falling back asleep on Kurapika's lap. When it came to Kurapika's lover, she couldn't decide whether she loved or hated him. Sometimes, she was ready to gouge his eyes out, others she wanted to shower him with love and affection. So, maybe she was a bit like Kurapika in her treatment of dear Chrollo, but other than that, she was quite peaceful for a kitten. Then again, the only time Kurapika had ever showered him with love and affection was when he'd accidentally gotten drunk at Leorio's graduation party. Chrollo had been 'pleasantly surprised' since the dark-haired man usually had to show him twice as much love to make up for Kurapika's deficit. Apparently, his performance that day had more than made up for it.
Kurapika snorted at the memory, leaning his head on Chrollo's shoulder.
"A good detective never stops working," Kurapika replied, flipping to the next page of the report.
Chrollo's fingers, gentle and warm, pushed his golden locks over his shoulder, as his eyes skimmed the page. He said nothing but Kurapika could see something in those obsidian orbs. Recognition.
"You know who these people are?" Kurapika asked, incredulous. These criminal circles sure were small.
"I do. They're a small faction with members from all around the world. They all have one goal," he said. "Act as the catalyst to 'natural selection'. They don't usually leave behind any traces of their murders."
"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday when you were scavenging through my things?" Kurapika asked, lifting his head from his shoulder.
"I just skimmed it to figure what you were hiding from me," Chrollo replied, casually. "I hadn't pieced two and two together yet. So, Tserriednich was one of them?"
Kurapika nodded, slowly placing his head back down. "That's the verdict. How much do you know about them?"
"Just whispers. They're ruthless killers who take pride in their work and expect nothing in return. They feel they're doing the right thing. They're all in the higher ranks of society. Stuff like that," Chrollo answered. "You're not working on this case just with Bill, I hope."
The blond shook his head. "No, Agent Bhavimania and his men are on it too."
"Bhavimania?" Chrollo repeated, trying to jog his own memory. "The one who keeps hitting on you? That Bhavimania?"
"He doesn't hit on me," Kurapika said. "He's just being friendly."
"Have you seen the way he looks at you?" the man complained in faux annoyance. "It's not fair. I want to see you in your detective gear every day!"
"And you do. Every day, before I go to work," replied the blond, far more stoically.
"But that's for five minutes and I don't ever see you at work," Chrollo said. "And my point still stands. That guy keeps hitting on you. I don't know if you've noticed but I'm not very keen on sharing."
Kurapika rolled his eyes. "Chrollo, you think half the world's in love with me."
Chrollo sniffed, haughtily. "As they should be."
The blond's chocolate eyes rolled heavenwards once more, but he snorted despite himself, shaking his head fondly.
"You're ridiculous."
"I love you, too."
. . .
December 12th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurapika and Chrollo's Bedroom
Kurapika awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. Blearily, he turned on his side, grabbing his phone off the bedside table.
The name, Bill, flashed on the screen.
Dammit, not someone he could easily ignore. He'd better have a good reason for calling him at three in the morning.
"What is it?" he managed, yawning.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" Bill asked.
Kurapika propped himself on his elbow, Chrollo's arm sliding down to his hips. "What do you think?"
"Right, three a.m.. Sorry, it's just I was looking through the file and I found something interesting," the man rambled.
"What is it?"
"I think I might know where the next murder might be happening," Bill said. "Camenburg. My parents used to bring me there on weekends."
"This couldn't wait until work because . . ."
"It's going to happen tonight. Three hours, I'm thinking," Bill replied, nervousness seeping into his voice.
Kurapika frowned. "How do you know all this? That's an awful lot you've figured out in the span of twelve hours."
"Someone sent in an anonymous tip," Bill answered. "It was my shift, so -"
How suspicious.
"Let me get this straight," Kurapika sighed. "You woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me that some anonymous caller suddenly had all our answers? Don't you find it suspicious."
"Of course," replied his partner, "but it's worth checking out."
Kurapika bit his lip. "I suppose you're right."
"Great," Bill said. "I'll meet you there."
The blond hung up, before letting his head hang for a bit. It was decidedly too early for this sort of thing.
"Are you going?" a voice murmured, and the arm around him loosened and fell away.
"I don't have much of a choice," Kurapika replied, pecking him on the lips. "You stay here."
"Most certainly not," Chrollo said, sitting up as well. "I won't let you thrust yourself into danger again."
"I'll be fine," Kurapika insisted. "Bill's there."
Chrollo pouted. Yes, pouted. "Fine, but make sure to leave your phone on and call once you're done."
"Understood," the blond responded, kissing him again. "I'll see you soon."
. . .
December 12th, XX26 : Age 25 : Camenburg Cafe
When Kurapika reached the place Bill had wanted to meet, his curly-haired friend was already seated and sipping some coffee.
"So, what's the verdict?" Kurapika asked, taking a seat in front of the man. Bill wore casual clothes, a sweater, and gray trousers. His light red hair was slicked back, as usual, reminding him a little of Hisoka, though the two were completely different in terms of personality. Bill was shorter than Kurapika by a few inches and possessed a thin build. Permanent eyebags shadowed his eyelids, though he insisted he wasn't tired.
"The tipster said it'd be somewhere around here, and to keep an eye out," Bill replied.
"Did you bring backup?"
"They're on their way," said the redhead. "Bhavimania and his men are coming over. You didn't bring Chrollo?"
"He figured I could take care of myself," Kurapika said.
Bill's forehead furrowed. "That doesn't sound much like Chrollo. He's usually so protective."
"Yeah, well, even Chrollo succumbs to the call of sleep sometimes," the blond spoke, that unique fondness seeping into his voice. "He was too distracted to put up a good argument."
"Or, he's secretly following you right now," Bill added.
"Or that," the blond admitted. "In which case, he'd better not show himself."
Bill snorted. "You really give him hell sometimes, huh?"
"You can't have heaven without a little bit of hell thrown in," Kurapika replied, crossing his arms, before turning to the waiter. The young man placed down a plastic cup in front of him. Kurapika brought the steaming liquid to his mouth. "He knows I love him."
"Most of the time," Bill recited.
"Naturally, I can't let him get too cocky."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, sipping on coffee and retreating to their own thoughts. Until Kurapika broke it again.
"So, is Reggie spending Christmas with you?" Kurapika prompted.
"No, uh, Lily decided to take her to her parents' house this year," Bill replied, trying to sound as offhand as possible, and failing miserably. If Kurapika could learn to translate the Spiders' subtlety into English, he could certainly read someone as sincere as Bill.
Kurapika swirled his coffee around a bit. "Why don't you come to our house, then?"
"What? Ah, no, I couldn't impose," Bill replied, but Kurapika could see he was seconds away from agreeing.
"It's fine, we'll be making an insane amount of food anyway," Kurapika insisted. "Come on, I need another sane mind besides Pairo in there. It's a bloody battlefield."
Bill finally laughed, before settling back down into that same anxiety. "Are you sure Chrollo won't mind."
"Trust me, he'll be too distracted to even notice," Kurapika said. With both him and Dimitri there, Chrollo wouldn't care about a few extra guests.
Bill smiled. "We'll see."
The blond reflected a smile of his own before something caught his eye.
"It's them," Kurapika said, eyes following the two figures dressed in black. A young woman with curly, dark hair and clothed in a black trench coat. Strings of pearls were wrapped her neck, and silver earrings dangled from her ears. She had a slender build and her suited companion easily towered over her. They looked like a young heiress and her bodyguard, but Kurapika knew they were more.
"How can you be so sure?" Bill asked, sizing them up.
The blond took out his phone and zeroed in on their hands. "The rings. They're the same as the one Tserriednich had worn when he'd tried to kill me."
"Seriously?"
The blond nodded. Silver set in a gold band with a single black diamond in the center.
"Then, what do we do?"
"We follow them," Kurapika replied, standing up. Bill gave him a look that was a cross between panic and exasperation.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "These people are dangerous."
Kurapika stood there, staring at him with that same deadpan expression.
"Right, you have a black belt, your husband's a wanted thief, and three psychopaths have already tried to kill you," Bill prattled, standing up as well. "Let's go."
The two of them walked out of the humble, warm cafe and into the cruel, cruel world. Kurapika zipped up against the cold, walking after their suspects without missing a beat, glancing at his phone every so often. He'd sent the pictures of both the rings and the two possible murderers to Chrollo. Chrollo being Chrollo, he would probably know who they were.
His phone lit up just a few seconds after he sent him the message. Kurapika opened it and his whole body momentarily froze.
'get out. now.'
What?
Someone suddenly pushed him into an alleyway. His back hit the ground, and he gasped for breath before his airway was cut off again, and his assailant lifted him and threw him against the wall.
"Such a pretty face," the man whispered, running a finger along his jawline. "What is such a pretty face doing so far from home in so dark a night?"
Kurapika tried replying, but all that came out was strangled syllables lacking any strength or fervor.
"I wonder, does such a pretty face have to have such tragic an end," the man giggled, gold eyes glinting, as long auburn hair brushed the blond's face. "Do you know what they say?" He laughed again, nails digging into his neck. "Yes."
Lights began to appear before his eyes, the man's horse-like face blurring. Kurapika reached up to claw his hands off his neck, tried to free his legs, but nothing seemed to work. It was like he couldn't even feel pain. Meanwhile, Kurapika's vision was fading and his mind grew fuzzy and disoriented.
But then, the pressure around his throat fell away, as the strange man was beautifully manhandled across the alley. In front of him, stood a young man with raven hair and green eyes.
"You okay?" the man heaved, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath. Kurapika nodded, as he caught his own. His assailant, golden eyes furious, lunged at his savior but failed to account for Kurapika. The blond let his knee connect with his stomach, and that was all it took to throw him back into the wall, promptly knocking him out.
"Bastard," Kurapika muttered. "I'm not just a pretty face."
Silence followed, and the man whispered, "cool," under his breath.
The blond turned to the other and asked, "Who are you?"
"Dimitri," said the raven-haired man, and Kurapika noticed for the first time that he looked quite familiar. The slightly down-turned eyes, the dark hair, even his face shape. He looked like Chrollo.
Dimitri?
No way.
"Kurapika," the blond replied. "Thanks for helping me out there."
"Kurapika," the man repeated. "That's a strange name."
"I get that a lot," Kurapika admitted. "You wouldn't happen to know where my partner ran off to?"
The man's brow contorted, before loosening with recognition. "Oh, the one with the weird hair? Rubes is on it."
"Rubes?"
"I found the other one!" a monotonous voice announced, throwing a disgruntled Bill on the floor.
Dimitri crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Rubes? What did we say about the people we save?" The man turned to Kurapika with an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry about this. They're a bit strange when it comes to treating other people with care."
'Rubes' pushed some blond hair out of their eyes. Eyes that had taken on a strange purplish shade in the scarce light of the lamps back on the main road. They picked up the man and dragged him to the wall, setting him into a sitting position against it. They were dressed in all black, in a jacket and jeans and a black undershirt.
"These are the detectives you sent the tip too?" Rubes asked.
The tip? He sent it in? How did he know so much?
"Yup," Dimitri replied, popping the 'p', before glancing at Kurapika. "You must have a few questions. We have a lot of answers, but it'd probably be better if you tell us what you do know first."
Yeah, this had to be Chrollo's brother. The resemblance was uncanny.
"You somehow have information on a murderous faction that prides itself as the carriers of 'Natural Selection'. You, for some reason, thought to share it with us. Which mean that while you have the information, you lack the means," Kurapika listed off. On a good day, he might be able to figure out more, but this wasn't a good day.
"You're pretty smart, Pika!" Dimitri remarked, cheerfully.
"Don't ever call me that."
The man blanched at his icy gaze, gulped, and started speaking again, "any questions?"
"I have many, but first, are you a Lucilfer?"
Silence. His face grew stoic, dark.
"What?"
"Your last name. What is it? Or perhaps, I should say, do you have a brother named Chrollo?" Kurapika asked, excitement curling deep within him.
Dimitri glared. "What do you know about my brother?"
"He's kind of my husband," Kurapika replied, and Dimitri's mouth practically fell open. "It's a long story."
"H-he told you about me?" the man asked, and for a second, Kurapika saw the little boy Chrollo had talked about so often. Green eyes so hopeful that you couldn't imagine a day when that light faded.
"He told me everything," Kurapika replied, before remembering something he probably should've remembered earlier. "Where's my phone?"
"Oh!" his green-eyed brother-in-law said, digging into his pocket and pulling out the little device. "Here. It's a bit dirty, but it should be working fine."
Kurapika turned it on, entered his passcode and was immediately bombarded with twenty-three messages and ten missed calls, all from the same person.
"Could you give me a second?" he asked Dimitri, who nodded and stepped to the side, dragging Rubes along with him.
The blond took a deep breath, calming his features, and flicked Chrollo's number. "Hey."
"What happened? Are you alright? Where are you?" The flurry of questions came and went, Chrollo's voice growing more urgent every second.
"Calm down, I'm fine," Kurapika said. "I'll be heading back soon, please don't deploy your mini army."
"I won't. Just hurry back," Chrollo sighed.
"Okay. Bye." Kurapika finally said, before hanging up. Dimitri was staring at him with a look of pure shock.
"You really are married to Chrollo," he whispered. "How'd you manage that? Chrollo never showed interest in these sorts of things when I was around."
Kurapika shrugged. "I guess it was just a matter of time."
"Yeah," he replied, still processing this revelation.
"Can I see your phone?' the blond asked, figuring it was best to ask while he was still distracted. Sure enough, he forked it over without so much as a word. Kurapika punched in his number and handed it back to his husband's brother.
"Let's meet in Camenburg Cafe next week?" Kurapika arranged. "Now, help me wake Bill up."
. . .
December 12th, XX26 : Age 25 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household
"Chrollo?" Kurapika found the man sitting in an armchair, eyes bright and alert, hands clasped in his lap. Pale fingers crept onto his shoulder, and the man took them and pulled Kurapika to him and onto his lap.
Chrollo pushed blonde hair away from Kurapika's neck, revealing purplish bruises and nail marks.
"They tried to strangle you," he remarked as if relaying the facts to some sort of imaginary third spectator.
"Yeah, he didn't get too far, obviously. Weird guy, though. Kept talking about how pretty I was. I know I'm reasonably attractive but it was all he seemed to think about." Kurapika recounted, curling his arms around Chrollo and laying his head down on his shoulder pensively. "It was like Tserriednich and the Volkovs all in one."
"How'd you get away?" asked the man, leaning back in the chair, still deathly serious, as if he was planning his wannabe assassin's murder right then and there.
"I kneed him in the stomach," Kurapika chirped, proudly.
Chrollo chuckled this time, and Kurapika reveled in the motion, the feel of his laughter, as a whisper of a smile made its way to his own lips. "That's the man I love."
"Well," Kurapika started, unraveling himself from their mess of limbs. "I'm going for a shower. Alleyways are wrought with disease, after all."
Chrollo let him, not offering to join like usual, and Kurapika breathed a sigh of relief. He needed a moment. The door shut with just a flick of his wrist, and he was met with a tired, beaten, and bruised reflection of himself. He looked awful. His blond hair was ruffled and windswept, but not in the Chrollo kind of windswept where it made one want to kiss the other. The kind of windswept that made you consider buying the other a brush. On his neck, there were bruises, colored an angry purple, reminding him of their abuse.
He exhaled. At least, he hadn't tried to burn him alive or anything.
Kurapika quickly undressed and turned the shower handle, letting the cool water hit him. His head cleared, focus returning to his newly found brother-in-law. Dimitri. He didn't seem to have a grudge against Chrollo, but he couldn't be sure until he had a proper conversation with him. And then, there was the question of Chrollo. How would he react to his long-lost brother showing up on Christmas Eve like some kind of Christmas present? What if he asked Dimitri to leave? What if there was more to there story than he let on? What if Chrollo got angry?
Kurapika shivered and it wasn't because of the water. He'd never seen Chrollo get seriously angry at anyone, let alone him. He always kept a cool head, but, seeing what he was capable of when he was level-headed, what would he do if he completely lost it?
Kurapika didn't want to push his limits, and he definitely didn't want to lead them down the path to divorce, but . . . they were family. And technically, Dimitri was his brother as well. Kurapika lost his entire family to a fire, seeing it torn apart by anything less than death was almost frustrating.
With that resolve, he shut the water off.
Chrollo was already lounging on the bed when Kurapika walked into the master bedroom. The man beckoned him forward, and soon, the blond found himself back in his arms.
"No more three a.m. work calls, okay?" the man murmured, already drifting off.
Kurapika snorted. "Deal. Say, can I ask you something?"
"Anything. You know you don't have to ask."
"Who were those people? How do you know about them?" Kurapika asked, kissing his shoulder.
"Ah, them. They're quite infamous in the underworld," Chrollo replied, staring up into the darkness as he lay flat on his back, just one arm holding the blond close. "Linda Lerse and her bodyguard, Percival, with whom she allegedly has sexual relations with."
"Stop saying things like that so casually," Kurapika sighed, shifting a bit to get a better look at his face. "So, how do you know they're so dangerous?"
"Ah, well, Linda and I used to be, eh, acquaintances," Chrollo said, clearly framing it more favorably than the actual circumstances.
"You slept with her, didn't you?" Kurapika sighed. "How long were you together?"
"A few weeks," Chrollo replied and Kurapika rolled his eyes. His old habits certainly came back to haunt them sometimes. Sometimes, Kurapika wondered what about him had convinced Chrollo to stay, but then he remembered that it wasn't just one particular characteristic. It was everything they'd experienced that brought them together, everything they still could experience that kept them together.
"Do you think she wants revenge?" Kurapika asked.
"Perhaps," Chrollo replied. "She was always a spiteful woman. Sadistic, too. She prided herself on her murders."
Kurapika frowned. "Why'd you go out with her, then?"
"I hadn't known until later on. It was what made me leave her in the end. Well, that and -"
"You got bored. Yes, I know," Kurapika finished, finally letting some bite into his words.
Chrollo suddenly enveloped him in his arms, burying his face in his blond hair. "There's only you now."
"Hmm, there better be," whispered the lover, though he'd never once doubted him. "I promise to keep you quite occupied."
"Oh?" His hand traveled south, but Kurapika caught it and placed it back around his waist.
"I think not. Especially after discussing you past escapades. You keep your hands to yourself," Kurapika scolded.
Chrollo pouted. "But I thought it was all in the past, Pika-chu!"
"I will throw you out of this bed," Kurapika said, turning on his side and away from Chrollo.
The man chuckled, throwing his arms back around him and pressing his chest up against Kurapika's back, his lips planting one soft kiss at the nape of his neck, before burying his face in his hair. And for once, Kurapika had nothing to say. So, he let his actions do the talking. His hands found Chrollo's, icy fingers intertwined with their counterparts. And then, slowly, the two men drifted off into dreamless sleeps, comfortable and safe.
. . .
December 17th, XX26 : Age 28 : Camenburg Cafe
Dimitri would be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit nervous. This guy was his brother's husband, after all, and his only tie to Chrollo at the moment. He didn't want to give him the wrong impression. He'd been working on finding Chrollo again for far too long to have it go up in smoke so close to the end.
Of course, there was a chance he was lying. Chrollo hated being tied down. Him getting married was unlikely, if not impossible. Even as a teen, he never stayed with one person for too long. But then, thinking back to the other man's defiance, all the strength he seemed to have locked away in that small frame, it became apparent that this Kurapika was different. Plus, he had a ring on his finger and called him by name and knew that he had a brother.
"Relax, Dimi," Rubes said, as they devoured their chocolate. Chocolate and nothing else. "He seems like an ok guy."
"That's exactly what I'm worried about," he hissed. "What if he decides we're complete freaks and doesn't let me see him? What if he calls the cops and sends us to a psychiatric ward?"
Laughter, soft and clear like windchimes, jingled from behind him, and Dimitri visibly flinched, before meekly looking over his shoulder. There stood a young man in his mid-twenties, blond hair layered to frame his face, and dark clothes outlining his figure. He wore a black coat and Dimitri saw the beginnings of a white sweater in the gap where it used to be zipped up. His eyes, a rich brown with flecks of gold, were shadowed by thick lashes and reminded him of the orbs of a cat. Beautiful and alert, like windows to another world.
"Believe me," he spoke, voice calm and mellow. They reminded him of Chrollo's somehow and sounded far different from the defensive, cold tone he'd possessed just a few days prior. "I'm well-acquainted with strangeness."
"Huh? Oh, right. Would you like to sit down? I mean, please sit down? I mean, if you'd like," Dimitri scrambled for the right words. Chrollo had always been the eloquent one, bending every syllable to his will. But the blond just laughed, not minding his performance and taking a seat in between him and Rubes.
"It's nice to finally be able to talk to you properly," Kurapika said, clasping his hands together on the table. "So, I suppose you probably have some sort of idea why I asked to meet you here."
"It's not just to get to know me, I gather," Dimitri said, scratching the back of his ear nervously.
Kurapika smiled. "No. I actually wanted to know if you'd like to come to our Christmas get-together. Chrollo always talks about you and I thought he might like to see his brother again after all these years."
Dimitri's hands clenched on his lap. "I don't know. I don't think he'd want to see me."
The blond smirked, closing his eyes. "Funny, that's what he said about you." Brown orbs opened up again. "Believe me. He wants to see you. He's just too scared to."
"Chrollo?" Dimitri scoffed. "Scared? I didn't know that was even possible."
"You'd be surprised." His tone made Dimitri wonder what had happened to make even his fearless brother scared. "So, will you come?"
Dimitri nodded, though he still felt uncertain. "Yeah. I think it'll be nice to see him again."
Kurapika gave him another dazzling smile before a sudden curiosity sparked in the depths of those cat-like eyes. "So, tell me, what was Chrollo like as a kid?"
"Huh?"
"You see, I keep trying to get things out of the Spiders but all they've got are glorious ideations of their fabulous Danchou. It's kind of unnerving, honestly," the blond said.
"Spiders?" he repeated. Surely, that didn't mean Chrollo had gotten pet tarantulas or something.
"Oh, right, they're practically his gang, and he's the leader, and they call them the Spiders. They follow him blindly and think he's the best thing ever, essentially. Like limbs following the head, hence the title, 'Spider'."
What? "He has a gang?"
"Yeah," Kurapika replied, accepting the coffee the waiter had just brought him. "They steal stuff from around the world every couple of months. All from organizations worse than them."
"And you're okay with that?" Dimitri asked.
The blond shrugged, bringing the caffeinated liquid to his lips. "I don't really care as long as they don't hurt anyone. Besides, the people the target totally had it coming. No one knows about this, though, so if anyone ever asks, Chrollo's just an art critic."
Dimitri snorted. "Seriously?"
"Yup. He's got the degree and certification and everything," Kurapika said. "He certainly enjoys getting into his role."
"You really know him well, huh?"
His brother-in-law pushed a strand of honey-colored hair behind his ear. "I have to. I can't just marry someone who I know little about."
"How long have you been, you know, together?" Dimitri asked.
"Officially? Two years. Unofficially? Six years. Married. Six months. We had our anniversary two days ago," Kurapika replied. "As I said, it's a long story."
"It took you four years just to get together?" He hadn't meant for it to come out so rudely, but he'd been surprised and Dimitri had never been a good actor.
Kurapika didn't take it too seriously. "There was always something holding us back."
"What convinced you?"
Silence.
"A really long talk."
. . .
December 17th, XX26 : Age 28 : Dimitri's apartment
"So, are you going?" Rubes asked, placing another stack of dishes next to the sink.
Dimitri glared at his newly added workload and snapped, "of course, I'm going! He asked so nicely. Besides, I want to see what Chrollo's been up to."
"Didn't he give you that scar?" they pressed on. "Have you forgiven him after all he's done to you?"
He pushed some raven hair out of his eyes with the back of his arms. "There was nothing to forgive. It was all my fault anyway."
"It is never all one person's fault," Rubes replied, and for a second, he saw the broken version of Rubes, the one who'd been misused and put down all their life. All for being different. And as usual, he felt the urge to hug them, because Rubes was amazing and didn't deserve to feel like that.
"Right," Dimitri muttered, "but I still want to see him."
Rubes grabbed the other sponge and proceeded to wipe off one of the plates. "I will come with you."
"Really?" Dimitri asked, feeling a weight leave his shoulders. It was like he could breathe again. With Rubes there, he could face a dozen Chrollos if he had to.
"Indeed," Rubes replied.
Dimitri wrapped his arms around them, pressing his cheek against his. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. This is gonna be the best Christmas Eve you've ever had!"
"At least, it won't be in this tiny apartment."
"Hey, you said you liked the place!"
"I do, but it is still tiny."
. . .
December 24th, XX26 : Age 31 : Kurta-Lucilfer Household
There came a clatter and an, "oof," and Chrollo forced himself out of his armchair and headed to Kurapika's office. Opening it, he noted that everything was still the same. The walls painted white, the shelves of books at the sides, the large window overlooking the forest outside. The white work desk and chair waited by one side of the door. And behind there should be his beloved.
"Kurapika," he said, looking over the edge of the desk, down to where his husband lay on the ground with a tissue box in hand. "What are you doing?"
"There's a spider," Kurapika hissed out, "on my damn shelf and I'm going to kill it if it's the last thing I do."
Chrollo shook his head affectionately. Kurapika's abhorrence for spiders was adorable at best, detrimental to his health at worst. And at the moment, it seemed to be both. Chrollo's dark eyes flicked over the shelf, looking for any sign of an eight-legged arthropod. Catching sight of it, he lifted a hand and let the little spider crawl onto his hand.
He set it free outside, and Kurapika, who'd followed him all the way there, just gave him an unsatisfied glare.
"What now?" Chrollo asked.
"You should've just killed it," Kurapika murmured, grumpily. "It's gonna freeze out there anyway."
"Spiders are a lot harder to kill than you'd expect, darling," Chrollo said, before letting a sly smirk curl. Kurapika's cheeks reddened immediately, though Chrollo suspected the blond didn't realize. He always blushed at times like this. It excited Chrollo's lesser self more than he'd like to admit. "But, you know that already."
"Chrollo," Kurapika breathed, taking in how close they'd gotten, lips barely touching. "What are you doing?"
"Controlling myself," Chrollo murmured, hands traveling to his hips, as he reigned in his imagination.
Kurapika chewed his bottom lip, and Chrollo found the action incredibly endearing.
"Don't."
His smirk turned into a grin before he finally gave into his desires and kissing him senseless. His Kurapika, his love, his, his, his.
But only as long as he wanted to be his.
. . .
December 24th, XX26 : Age 31 : Spider's Mansion
"Dude, what happened to your neck?" Phinks asked, eyeing Kurapika's neck warily. Chrollo followed his gaze to the little mess of hickeys and fading bruises scattered all over the graceful curve of his neck. Of course, the hickeys had been his doing, though the bruises had been left over from Kurapika's encounter with one of Linda's men, refusing to fade away after all this time.
"Don't ask questions that'll get you in trouble," snapped the blond, walking around the large man, and leaving Chrollo at the entrance.
"He's like a dictator," Phinks muttered.
"I know," Chrollo replied, proudly. "Isn't it wonderful?"
Phinks gave him a resigned expression before the two headed off to the dining hall, where there were twelve trees decorated with colorful lights and baubles and one long table where all the spiders sat, patiently waiting for their leader. Kurapika also sat towards the end of the table, near Chrollo's seat. It looked like every other Christmas, but Chrollo noticed several things that had changed. One, there were more people. Two, there was a small bed in the corner for Yin-Yang, who had promptly run over to it and laid down for a nap. Three, one of the extra people looked extremely familiar.
No, not just familiar. It was like looking in a mirror. Impossible. Chrollo walked closer and for a moment, their eyes met. Green. Green like his father's. Green like Dimitri's.
"It's nice to see you again, Dimitri," Chrollo said, giving his brother a small smile.
The boy's head shot up again, after being discouraged for just a millisecond before Chrollo's greeting. He returned his smile. "Same here, bro."
"Alright, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Chrollo said, sitting down in his chair, sandwiched between Kurapika and Dimitri. "Just because we're reuniting after all these years, it doesn't mean you get to call me that."
Dimitri snorted. "Still a priss, huh?"
"No, that's more up Kurapika's alley."
"Hey!"
. . .
December 24th, XX26 : Age 31 : Library In The Spider's Mansion
"You're angry," his lover asked.
Chrollo glanced at him, snapping the book in his hand close. "Why would you say that?"
"Chrollo," Kurapika drawled, hand on his chest, forcing him to face him fully, "I know you like to pretend for the rest of the Spiders, but don't you dare do it for me."
"I'm not angry," Chrollo insisted, words coming out harsher than intended. "And I don't pretend for them. I prefer to keep my emotions close to my heart, and that's where they'll stay."
Kurapika's forehead contorted in something like pain. "You don't have to do that, you know? It's okay to let other people in sometimes."
"I married you, didn't I?" Chrollo replied. "Besides, you're one to talk."
"Excuse me?"
"You forget how you treated your friends for all those years you were off overseas. You shut them out," Chrollo accused, looking down at him with cool fury. No, it was more annoyance than anything else.
"I did it to keep them safe!" Kurapika defended.
"I do it to keep you safe!"
"From what? Yourself?"
"Yes."
Kurapika froze for just a second before his expression softened and cold hands came to cup his face. "I can assure you I can protect myself just fine."
"You'd be surprised," he whispered, as memories continued to flood his mind. The last time he'd let anger control him, let his emotions run wild, he'd lost Dimitri.
Kurapika suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck, letting his lips meet Chrollo's. Their bodies pressed close he could feel every muscle, feel the warmth radiating from the other man, feel their hearts drumming away. It was a rare occasion that Kurapika initiated a kiss, nevermind one as passionate as this, and while Chrollo enjoyed having Kurapika melt into the kiss gradually, having his face redden as he drew closer. This . . . this wasn't half bad. Perhaps, a bit sloppy and disoriented, but he didn't mind. It was quite thrilling, being the one on the receiving end.
Chrollo suddenly broke off the kiss, only to lift him onto one of the desks and meet him in the middle once more.
"Chrollo," Kurapika whispered, urgently, "I love you."
"I know," he whispered back, kissing him again, only to be pushed away.
"But," Kurapika started, jumping off the desk, "I'm not going any further than this in a library."
"So, home, then?"
"Home, it is. Just give me a second."
. . .
December 24th, XX26 : Age 26 : On the doorstep of The Spider's Mansion
Holidays equal overly-affectionate Chrollos. Got it. Now, where was the other one?
"He's gone outside," Rubes told him. "On the doorstep, brooding about."
Kurapika thanked them profusely, before heading towards the door. Sure enough, on the other side, sat a brooding, green-eyed Lucilfer.
"Hey," Kurapika announced his presence. "You okay?"
Dimitri just gave him a passing glance and turned back to the falling snow. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Then, what's with the face?"
"There's no face," Dimitri replied, taming his features, albeit unskilfully.
Kurapika smiled as he took a seat next to his brother-in-law. "Something's bothering you? I'm not leaving until you tell me."
Five minutes passed of Kurapika just . . . staring at the poor man, waiting for him to break under all the pressure and spill all the contents of his heart. It worked. After some squirming and shifting, the baby brother finally came through.
"I guess this just isn't what I expected," he replied. "I mean, just a few hours into my arrival, you two are already fighting. My brother is acting like nothing happened at all. And I just . . . maybe it'd be better if I just went back home."
" . . . You were listening to us fight?"
Dimitri's head spun around, eyes wide with horror. He made that expression a lot. "I didn't mean to. I just happened to be nearby and heard you two talking, and well, I might've eavesdropped a little bit, and I'm really sorry that you're fighting because of me."
"Don't give yourself so much credit," Kurapika chided. "We always argue, it's part of our dynamic. Rest assured that we made up immediately afterward. As for your relationship with Chrollo, well, what did you expect? The man's emotions are buried under a thousand layers of 'dead inside'."
"He seems pretty emotional around you."
"Yes, but they're almost always submerged," Kurapika explained, tossing his head back and staring at the clouds above. "I've never really seen him completely let it go. Except for that one time, but that took ten glasses of wine and probably wouldn't be good for his liver. I guess what I'm trying to say is that your relationship won't be mended in just a day. You'll piece it back together over time and it'll take a lot of work and you'll probably have your own share of arguments as well and they're gonna hurt. Honestly, I'd say it'll take years to patch this thing up, so if you don't give it your all, you'll just be making a bigger wound for me to heal. But if you really want this to work, and I assure you he does too, then you're going to have to be patient. Bloody hell, I sound like Leorio."
"Who's Leorio."
"Oh, no one."
"Hey!"
"Oh, look, no one's here," Kurapika teased, staring up at the older man. Leorio, Gon, Killua, and Pairo had all been invited, though Pairo had somewhere to go with his new boyfriend and ended up ditching them. Leorio called it karma, he called it rude, Chrollo called it good riddance. Yes, Chrollo and Pairo still weren't quite fond of each other, but at least they could somewhat tolerate each other.
Chrollo showed up behind Leorio, sticking a hat on Kurapika's head. "You're gonna be sick again, Kurapika."
"Nag," Kurapika and Dimitri chimed.
Chrollo looked between them, suspiciously. "Are you two conspiring against me?"
"Oh, look at the time!" Kurapika said, grabbing Chrollo's hand and pulling him to their car. "We best be off."
"So, you are conspiring against me?" Chrollo asked once they were both seated in their freezing car. The dark-haired man turned the key in the ignition and turned up the heat, seeing how his lover shivered from the cold.
"Maybe," Kurapika popped. "So, how was your Christmas?"
"Not bad," Chrollo admitted, pulling out of the driveway and heading down the forested path. "But there's still something I want to show you?"
"Oh?"
"You're not the only one who has been busy this season."
Kurapika cocked his head to the side, quizzically, hair tumbling over his shoulder.
. End of Chapter .
A/N: Finally! I'm done. Done with this forty-six-page novella. Honestly, this was supposed to be short and sweet, but all these subplots kept butting in. I'm late by a week, but thankfully it's filled with holidays. Happy New Year, my dears.
Question of the Year: Thoughts on Dimitri as a character?