Dis Aliter Visum - Chapter 75 - 2,734 words
Note: I think this is my favourite chapter so far. This is the dress Kurapica is wearing.
Beta-reader: Nope.
Chapter summary: Like a moth to a flame.
Chapter 75
“Stop moving,” Kuroro admonished. “I can't work if you keep shifting position.”
“I can't breathe,” Kurapica griped in response, which was actually only part of the problem.
The corset he was wearing under the dress did feel very constrictive, so tight it was laced to give the illusion of a girly waist, but it wasn't what was making him feel so restless. It wasn't even the ticklish sensation of the brush against his skin. It was Kuroro's gaze, so intent and focused as he painted the intricate tattoo over both of his shoulders. He didn't have breasts to speak of, of course, so they had opted for a sleeveless white blouse that was held at the back of his neck with a bow. There was lace peeking out of the top of the corset, which came up to just underneath where the breasts would be if Kurapica were a girl, the blouse puffing outwards camouflaging the flatness of his chest. He also wore a front bustle skirt, made from a heavy, dark, pinstripe material, a large double bow at the back of Kurapica's waist. He even had fancy Victorian type shoes and a lace shawl to complement the ensemble. It looked horribly, horribly feminine and, although Kurapica wasn't above cross-dressing if it would help him accomplish his goals, this all seemed to be a little over the top. So much lace and frills and ribbons had to be considered superfluous by anyone with a healthy amount of self-respect. And if it got to blows, how was he supposed to run or fight in this ridiculous outfit?!
“Stop moving,” Kuroro said again, and used the corner of a handkerchief dipped in water to erase the line that Kurapica had made him mess up on his left shoulder.
The design was very intricate and had a strong significance amongst the upper class of the Wholfir people, that of a promised woman - “So that no one will harass you,” Kuroro had said - who was not to be touched or approached by any man other than her immediate family. Kurapica glanced down at the Spider Head. He had such an intense look of concentration on his face as he painted, pictures all around him. Some showed the engagement tattoo, and some the marriage one, the top part completing the design of the tattoo that was first drawn onto the skin when the girl was promised to a suitor. For over an hour, Kurapica had had to sit there, completely straight backed, since the corset prevented him from slouching. Not that he ever slouched, but even he could get tired of holding in place.
“Kurapica,” the older man said warningly and the blond stilled again. Kuroro's warm fingertips, the feel of the brush sliding gently over his skin, it all felt a bit odd. He kept wanting to shiver, but he wasn't sure why. “There, finished,” Kuroro finally said. Kurapica let out a relieved sigh. “Next,” the Spider head continued, “make up.”
“Oh, I can do that myself,” Kurapica assured him.
“It'll be faster if I do it,” Kuroro said categorically.
“Can I at least take a few minutes and walk around?” the blond wanted to know. “I think my legs are falling asleep.”
Kuroro arched an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on his lips. “Is that a devious ploy to get away from me?”
“It's a devious ploy to get up and walk for a minute or two,” Kurapica retorted. “I'll put away the pictures, or something. I just need to move.”
“Sure,” Kuroro said. “Clean up the mess. I'll make some coffee. Be careful not to stain the dress.”
“I know,” Kurapica assured him. He got up and put all of the prints and photos into a neat pile, then started putting away the temporary tattoo art kit. Just moving a bit made him feel a little better. He heard the click of the coffee machine turning on and Kuroro returned with the small make up bag. “I can do the make up,” Kurapica insisted. “Don't you have anything else you could be doing?
“Nope,” Kuroro answered cheerfully. “Sit down.”
Kurapica sighed again, but he complied. He went back to the small, uncomfortable stool, needing to hold it in place as he sat as the skirt kept pushing it back. Suddenly, the reason why men were expected to hold chairs as a lady sat made a whole lot of sense. Kuroro sat across from him, his knees on either side of the blond's legs and the voluminous skirt. His eyes intense and focused, the Spider Head started working. Kurapica didn't know where to look. He was used to this look on Kuroro's face, but usually his eyes were deep and full of hunger when fixed on the Kuruta like this. And it certainly wasn't when there were sitting like they were now. The memories flitted around his head and he shifted, trying not to look too bothered, although he could definitely feel the heat raising to his cheeks.
“Stop moving,” Kuroro said yet again. Kurapica bit his lower lip and stilled. Primer, foundation, eyelid primer. It was ridiculous how many steps there were to the whole process.
“Do we need to really be that thorough?” he wanted to know. “We'll only be there for a few hours.”
“A girl going to such an elegant party would go through all of this to make sure her makeup doesn't smear. We'll do the same so our cover is perfect.” He noticed the look Kurapica was giving him and he scoffed and shrugged. “I once overheard Machi talking about it and how stupid the whole girly thing is. I don't know why I remember this, but I do, so you'll have to bear with it, now.” He set the small container down and reached for a palette of eyeshadow.
“You overheard her talk about how to apply eyeshadow as well?” Kurapica's tone was halfway between teasing and sardonic.
Kuroro arched an eyebrow at him. “I know how to mix colours at the very least,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
Kurapica hesitated for a moment, then let his eyelids fall shut. He held still, though he had a little shudder when the brush first ghosted over his skin. It took entirely too long for his taste, but eventually, Kuroro moved back a little to admire his handiwork.
“Okay, open your eyes,” he said softly, and really, why was he whispering? Kurapica slowly licked his lower lip and opened his eyes. Kuroro observed his face quietly for quite a while, then he moved back in, corrected a few things. “Okay,” he said at length, “keep your eyes half closed like this. I'll put some eyeliner on, then mascara.”
Kurapica complied, but he found the injunction not to move even harder to follow than he had at first. The way Kuroro seemed to stare right into him, his black eyes so intense, so deep and impenetrable, it just, it just did this funny little thing inside of Kurapica. He held his breath and let Kuroro finish with painting his eyelids and darkening his eyelashes. Next, the fake eyelashes were glued to his eyelids. Finally, the older man put most things away and turned his black eyes back onto him. Kurapica held his breath.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Kuroro leaned in. The blond swallowed, wet his lower lip again, then let out a shaky breath. He felt the Spider head slide a hand into his hair and pull him closer, and he leaned forward automatically. The kiss was soft, at first, not hesitant per se, but slow and gentle. A slight tightening of Kuroro's hand and it pulled at his hair just a bit, in no way enough to hurt, but Kurapica tilted his head and the kiss grew more intense and hungry. When the taller man bit at his lower lip, Kurapica made a soft sound of surprise and felt the hair in his hair pull a little harder, and then, suddenly, Kuroro let go entirely.
“You want coffee before I start applying the lipstick?” he asked the blond, getting to his feet.
It took Kurapica a moment to find his voice.” Y-yeah. Coffee would be great.”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips again, his eyes fixed on Kuroro's back as the Spider Head made his way back to the counter where the coffee machine sat. Kurapica watched him take out two mugs, spoons, then get the cream from the small fridge. There was something... odd with Kuroro these days. He wasn't sure what it was, but something was definitely wrong.
“Are you trying to burn holes through my back?” the older man playfully asked him, glancing back at the blond.
“I'm sorry?”
“I can feel you staring,” Kuroro explained.
“I'm just waiting for my coffee,” Kurapica lied.
“You and your coffee,” the Spider Head teased.
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Kurapica sent right back.
When Kuroro turned back towards him, mugs in hand, he had a small, amused smile playing on his lips. It was a ridiculously charming expression, something Kurapica was certain the older man knew how to best use to his advantage. He could probably get anyone to go to crazy lengths for him, just by using this very smile. Kuroro's eyebrows arched higher. He seemed confused with the look the blond was giving him.
Kurapica's eyes slid away and he shifted uncomfortably. Kuroro reached his side and handed him his coffee, which the younger man accepted after a moment of hesitation.
His companion sat down in front of him again.
“Something on your mind?”
Did he really need to sit so close? He wasn't painting on his skin or putting makeup on him, surely he could push his stool back a bit?
“No,” Kurapica answered, bringing his mug to his lips.
“Has anyone ever told you, you're a horrible liar?” Kuroro asked.
The blond glanced at his face, but his eyes soon slid away again. He took a sip of his coffee to steady his nerves.
“No,” he finally replied. “I can't say I'd like being told the opposite, however.” He took another peek at his face.
Kuroro's smile, already beguiling to begin with, brightened up a notch. “I hope you learn how to be a better liar before tonight,” he commented.
The young Hunter couldn't help letting out a soft snort that wasn't quite a laugh. “I think I didn't do too shabbily on Forkey,” he pointed out, his eyes sliding up again to meet Kuroro's gaze.
The older man's face darkened, giving him pause. He must have looked surprised, because Kuroro's features smoothed over and he raised his mug to his lips.
“Yeah,” he finally drawled once he's swallowed his sip of coffee,” I thought you did exceptionally well.”
“See?” Kurapica couldn't help pushing him a bit, though he certainly was intrigued about the look. “I'll do fine. You only think I'm bad at lying because you're abnormally good at it. Most people seem to believe my stories just fine. Besides, do you really want me to get so proficient in lies that I can fool you?”
“No,” Kuroro said slowly and far too seriously for the easy banter that they had going, “I wouldn't want that.”
Kurapica fixed his gaze on him, silently studying his face for some time. Kuroro was definitely off, today.
“There you go,” he finally sent back, “I think we're good, then.”
Kuroro's eyebrows went up again, then his lips pulled in a slow, gradual smile that looked more than a little devious.
“Yes,” he replied, “we're good.”
Kurapica wasn't sure what was going on. He did know that this smile that the older man was showing him made his chest constrict nearly painfully, but that wasn't helping him figure out what was happening in the older man's head.
“Good,” he said at length, then brought his mug to his lips. He took a sip automatically, though his thoughts were definitely not on the coffee anymore.
“Good,” Kuroro parroted, his smile widening a smidgen.
Seriously, there was something wrong with Kurapica's chest. He couldn't breath. Oh wait, he was wearing a ridiculously tight corset. This had to be the reason. He took another sip.
Kuroro idly bounced his feet, and the blond nearly hissed out a soft curse. Each movement made the inside of the taller man's knees brush against his own, just enough that he could feel it through the many layers of his costume. He sucked in a breath and froze. Kuroro paused and arched his eyebrows. Kurapica forced himself to move, bringing his cup to his lips yet again. Large, unblinking eyes fixed on him, the dark haired man mimicked his movement.
Gods, Kurapica didn't know what to do. He felt... He wanted... needed.... He didn't even know. No wait, he did know. He knew what he wanted right then, but he didn't want to admit it, not even to himself. Kurapica hadn't made it this far by closing his eyes to reality, however. He had to face the truth.
He wanted Kuroro.
He craved Kuroro's lips on his own. He desired the touch of his fingers, the slide of his hands over his skin. He hungered for what came next, and that both appalled and excited him.
He had to get out of this, had to leave and run as far from this man as he could. He had to flee, before he was trapped in the spiderweb that the Ryodan leader had spun around him. His hands started shaking. Kuroro's eyes slid down for a moment, then back up to meet his gaze. Focus never wavering, he set his cup down onto the table next to them, then pried Kurapica's fingers off his mug so that he could place it next to his own.
“What are you doing?” Kurapica breathed out the question, his voice far softer and more vulnerable than he had ever wanted it to be.
“Your hands are trembling,” Kuroro explained.
“They're not,” the blond protested.
“They are,” Kuroro insisted, his voice low, his eyes boring into the younger man's, “and you're still a horrible liar.”
“Only with you.”
Kuroro's lips twitched upwards. “That's good,” he whispered, leaning in.
“What are you doing?” Kurapica asked again.
“You're trembling,” Kuroro pointed out once more.
“I'm -” Kurapica began, but he couldn't finish the lie this time. He couldn't breathe.
“Am I the one making you shiver?” Kuroro wanted to know.
“Shut up,” Kurapica begged, unable to admit the truth.
“That's what I thought,” the older man commented, his lips brushing against Kurapica's as he spoke.
Kurapica closed his eyes, feeling another shudder run up his spine. Right then, their lips met properly. Kuroro nibbled at him lightly for a moment, then pulled away a tiny bit. A breath in, a breath out, and he pushed forwards again. His tongue slid over the younger man's lower lip, before delving into his mouth.
Kurapica wanted more. So, so much more.
The kiss grew hotter, more demanding and Kurapica was leaning forward. He would have straddled Kuroro, had he not stepped on the hem of the long skirt that he was wearing. He crashed back to reality and shoved Kuroro away from him.
“Make up,” he gasped. “I have to finish putting on my make up and put my wig on.”
Kuroro got to his feet, picked up his mug and turned away, bringing it to his lips. He took a sip of coffee and pulled his cellphone out.
“Dinner is in an hour,” he told the blond. “It's a fifteen minute drive and we had better get there early.”
“I'll do the lipstick myself,” Kurapica affirmed.
Kuroro nodded and wordlessly made his way to the counter for a refill. Kurapica emptied the rest of his own coffee. His hands were still shaking when he set his mug back down. He took a steadying breath, closed his eyes and turned all of his thoughts to the task at hand. They had a long night ahead of them.
When he opened his eyes, he was ready to work. He went through all of the steps for his lips to be perfect for his role as a fashionable young lady. He then put his wig on and arranged it carefully.
He was ready to leave then, and they silently made their way down to the car. Kurapica firmly put all thoughts of fleeing out of his mind. He wasn't going to leave, not before he'd completed the mission he had set for himself. If the cost was for him to fall victim to the Spider Head's charms, so be it. He wasn't going to run.
Anyway, it was far too late for that.
Beta-reader: Nope.
Chapter summary: Like a moth to a flame.
Chapter 75
“Stop moving,” Kuroro admonished. “I can't work if you keep shifting position.”
“I can't breathe,” Kurapica griped in response, which was actually only part of the problem.
The corset he was wearing under the dress did feel very constrictive, so tight it was laced to give the illusion of a girly waist, but it wasn't what was making him feel so restless. It wasn't even the ticklish sensation of the brush against his skin. It was Kuroro's gaze, so intent and focused as he painted the intricate tattoo over both of his shoulders. He didn't have breasts to speak of, of course, so they had opted for a sleeveless white blouse that was held at the back of his neck with a bow. There was lace peeking out of the top of the corset, which came up to just underneath where the breasts would be if Kurapica were a girl, the blouse puffing outwards camouflaging the flatness of his chest. He also wore a front bustle skirt, made from a heavy, dark, pinstripe material, a large double bow at the back of Kurapica's waist. He even had fancy Victorian type shoes and a lace shawl to complement the ensemble. It looked horribly, horribly feminine and, although Kurapica wasn't above cross-dressing if it would help him accomplish his goals, this all seemed to be a little over the top. So much lace and frills and ribbons had to be considered superfluous by anyone with a healthy amount of self-respect. And if it got to blows, how was he supposed to run or fight in this ridiculous outfit?!
“Stop moving,” Kuroro said again, and used the corner of a handkerchief dipped in water to erase the line that Kurapica had made him mess up on his left shoulder.
The design was very intricate and had a strong significance amongst the upper class of the Wholfir people, that of a promised woman - “So that no one will harass you,” Kuroro had said - who was not to be touched or approached by any man other than her immediate family. Kurapica glanced down at the Spider Head. He had such an intense look of concentration on his face as he painted, pictures all around him. Some showed the engagement tattoo, and some the marriage one, the top part completing the design of the tattoo that was first drawn onto the skin when the girl was promised to a suitor. For over an hour, Kurapica had had to sit there, completely straight backed, since the corset prevented him from slouching. Not that he ever slouched, but even he could get tired of holding in place.
“Kurapica,” the older man said warningly and the blond stilled again. Kuroro's warm fingertips, the feel of the brush sliding gently over his skin, it all felt a bit odd. He kept wanting to shiver, but he wasn't sure why. “There, finished,” Kuroro finally said. Kurapica let out a relieved sigh. “Next,” the Spider head continued, “make up.”
“Oh, I can do that myself,” Kurapica assured him.
“It'll be faster if I do it,” Kuroro said categorically.
“Can I at least take a few minutes and walk around?” the blond wanted to know. “I think my legs are falling asleep.”
Kuroro arched an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on his lips. “Is that a devious ploy to get away from me?”
“It's a devious ploy to get up and walk for a minute or two,” Kurapica retorted. “I'll put away the pictures, or something. I just need to move.”
“Sure,” Kuroro said. “Clean up the mess. I'll make some coffee. Be careful not to stain the dress.”
“I know,” Kurapica assured him. He got up and put all of the prints and photos into a neat pile, then started putting away the temporary tattoo art kit. Just moving a bit made him feel a little better. He heard the click of the coffee machine turning on and Kuroro returned with the small make up bag. “I can do the make up,” Kurapica insisted. “Don't you have anything else you could be doing?
“Nope,” Kuroro answered cheerfully. “Sit down.”
Kurapica sighed again, but he complied. He went back to the small, uncomfortable stool, needing to hold it in place as he sat as the skirt kept pushing it back. Suddenly, the reason why men were expected to hold chairs as a lady sat made a whole lot of sense. Kuroro sat across from him, his knees on either side of the blond's legs and the voluminous skirt. His eyes intense and focused, the Spider Head started working. Kurapica didn't know where to look. He was used to this look on Kuroro's face, but usually his eyes were deep and full of hunger when fixed on the Kuruta like this. And it certainly wasn't when there were sitting like they were now. The memories flitted around his head and he shifted, trying not to look too bothered, although he could definitely feel the heat raising to his cheeks.
“Stop moving,” Kuroro said yet again. Kurapica bit his lower lip and stilled. Primer, foundation, eyelid primer. It was ridiculous how many steps there were to the whole process.
“Do we need to really be that thorough?” he wanted to know. “We'll only be there for a few hours.”
“A girl going to such an elegant party would go through all of this to make sure her makeup doesn't smear. We'll do the same so our cover is perfect.” He noticed the look Kurapica was giving him and he scoffed and shrugged. “I once overheard Machi talking about it and how stupid the whole girly thing is. I don't know why I remember this, but I do, so you'll have to bear with it, now.” He set the small container down and reached for a palette of eyeshadow.
“You overheard her talk about how to apply eyeshadow as well?” Kurapica's tone was halfway between teasing and sardonic.
Kuroro arched an eyebrow at him. “I know how to mix colours at the very least,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
Kurapica hesitated for a moment, then let his eyelids fall shut. He held still, though he had a little shudder when the brush first ghosted over his skin. It took entirely too long for his taste, but eventually, Kuroro moved back a little to admire his handiwork.
“Okay, open your eyes,” he said softly, and really, why was he whispering? Kurapica slowly licked his lower lip and opened his eyes. Kuroro observed his face quietly for quite a while, then he moved back in, corrected a few things. “Okay,” he said at length, “keep your eyes half closed like this. I'll put some eyeliner on, then mascara.”
Kurapica complied, but he found the injunction not to move even harder to follow than he had at first. The way Kuroro seemed to stare right into him, his black eyes so intense, so deep and impenetrable, it just, it just did this funny little thing inside of Kurapica. He held his breath and let Kuroro finish with painting his eyelids and darkening his eyelashes. Next, the fake eyelashes were glued to his eyelids. Finally, the older man put most things away and turned his black eyes back onto him. Kurapica held his breath.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Kuroro leaned in. The blond swallowed, wet his lower lip again, then let out a shaky breath. He felt the Spider head slide a hand into his hair and pull him closer, and he leaned forward automatically. The kiss was soft, at first, not hesitant per se, but slow and gentle. A slight tightening of Kuroro's hand and it pulled at his hair just a bit, in no way enough to hurt, but Kurapica tilted his head and the kiss grew more intense and hungry. When the taller man bit at his lower lip, Kurapica made a soft sound of surprise and felt the hair in his hair pull a little harder, and then, suddenly, Kuroro let go entirely.
“You want coffee before I start applying the lipstick?” he asked the blond, getting to his feet.
It took Kurapica a moment to find his voice.” Y-yeah. Coffee would be great.”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips again, his eyes fixed on Kuroro's back as the Spider Head made his way back to the counter where the coffee machine sat. Kurapica watched him take out two mugs, spoons, then get the cream from the small fridge. There was something... odd with Kuroro these days. He wasn't sure what it was, but something was definitely wrong.
“Are you trying to burn holes through my back?” the older man playfully asked him, glancing back at the blond.
“I'm sorry?”
“I can feel you staring,” Kuroro explained.
“I'm just waiting for my coffee,” Kurapica lied.
“You and your coffee,” the Spider Head teased.
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Kurapica sent right back.
When Kuroro turned back towards him, mugs in hand, he had a small, amused smile playing on his lips. It was a ridiculously charming expression, something Kurapica was certain the older man knew how to best use to his advantage. He could probably get anyone to go to crazy lengths for him, just by using this very smile. Kuroro's eyebrows arched higher. He seemed confused with the look the blond was giving him.
Kurapica's eyes slid away and he shifted uncomfortably. Kuroro reached his side and handed him his coffee, which the younger man accepted after a moment of hesitation.
His companion sat down in front of him again.
“Something on your mind?”
Did he really need to sit so close? He wasn't painting on his skin or putting makeup on him, surely he could push his stool back a bit?
“No,” Kurapica answered, bringing his mug to his lips.
“Has anyone ever told you, you're a horrible liar?” Kuroro asked.
The blond glanced at his face, but his eyes soon slid away again. He took a sip of his coffee to steady his nerves.
“No,” he finally replied. “I can't say I'd like being told the opposite, however.” He took another peek at his face.
Kuroro's smile, already beguiling to begin with, brightened up a notch. “I hope you learn how to be a better liar before tonight,” he commented.
The young Hunter couldn't help letting out a soft snort that wasn't quite a laugh. “I think I didn't do too shabbily on Forkey,” he pointed out, his eyes sliding up again to meet Kuroro's gaze.
The older man's face darkened, giving him pause. He must have looked surprised, because Kuroro's features smoothed over and he raised his mug to his lips.
“Yeah,” he finally drawled once he's swallowed his sip of coffee,” I thought you did exceptionally well.”
“See?” Kurapica couldn't help pushing him a bit, though he certainly was intrigued about the look. “I'll do fine. You only think I'm bad at lying because you're abnormally good at it. Most people seem to believe my stories just fine. Besides, do you really want me to get so proficient in lies that I can fool you?”
“No,” Kuroro said slowly and far too seriously for the easy banter that they had going, “I wouldn't want that.”
Kurapica fixed his gaze on him, silently studying his face for some time. Kuroro was definitely off, today.
“There you go,” he finally sent back, “I think we're good, then.”
Kuroro's eyebrows went up again, then his lips pulled in a slow, gradual smile that looked more than a little devious.
“Yes,” he replied, “we're good.”
Kurapica wasn't sure what was going on. He did know that this smile that the older man was showing him made his chest constrict nearly painfully, but that wasn't helping him figure out what was happening in the older man's head.
“Good,” he said at length, then brought his mug to his lips. He took a sip automatically, though his thoughts were definitely not on the coffee anymore.
“Good,” Kuroro parroted, his smile widening a smidgen.
Seriously, there was something wrong with Kurapica's chest. He couldn't breath. Oh wait, he was wearing a ridiculously tight corset. This had to be the reason. He took another sip.
Kuroro idly bounced his feet, and the blond nearly hissed out a soft curse. Each movement made the inside of the taller man's knees brush against his own, just enough that he could feel it through the many layers of his costume. He sucked in a breath and froze. Kuroro paused and arched his eyebrows. Kurapica forced himself to move, bringing his cup to his lips yet again. Large, unblinking eyes fixed on him, the dark haired man mimicked his movement.
Gods, Kurapica didn't know what to do. He felt... He wanted... needed.... He didn't even know. No wait, he did know. He knew what he wanted right then, but he didn't want to admit it, not even to himself. Kurapica hadn't made it this far by closing his eyes to reality, however. He had to face the truth.
He wanted Kuroro.
He craved Kuroro's lips on his own. He desired the touch of his fingers, the slide of his hands over his skin. He hungered for what came next, and that both appalled and excited him.
He had to get out of this, had to leave and run as far from this man as he could. He had to flee, before he was trapped in the spiderweb that the Ryodan leader had spun around him. His hands started shaking. Kuroro's eyes slid down for a moment, then back up to meet his gaze. Focus never wavering, he set his cup down onto the table next to them, then pried Kurapica's fingers off his mug so that he could place it next to his own.
“What are you doing?” Kurapica breathed out the question, his voice far softer and more vulnerable than he had ever wanted it to be.
“Your hands are trembling,” Kuroro explained.
“They're not,” the blond protested.
“They are,” Kuroro insisted, his voice low, his eyes boring into the younger man's, “and you're still a horrible liar.”
“Only with you.”
Kuroro's lips twitched upwards. “That's good,” he whispered, leaning in.
“What are you doing?” Kurapica asked again.
“You're trembling,” Kuroro pointed out once more.
“I'm -” Kurapica began, but he couldn't finish the lie this time. He couldn't breathe.
“Am I the one making you shiver?” Kuroro wanted to know.
“Shut up,” Kurapica begged, unable to admit the truth.
“That's what I thought,” the older man commented, his lips brushing against Kurapica's as he spoke.
Kurapica closed his eyes, feeling another shudder run up his spine. Right then, their lips met properly. Kuroro nibbled at him lightly for a moment, then pulled away a tiny bit. A breath in, a breath out, and he pushed forwards again. His tongue slid over the younger man's lower lip, before delving into his mouth.
Kurapica wanted more. So, so much more.
The kiss grew hotter, more demanding and Kurapica was leaning forward. He would have straddled Kuroro, had he not stepped on the hem of the long skirt that he was wearing. He crashed back to reality and shoved Kuroro away from him.
“Make up,” he gasped. “I have to finish putting on my make up and put my wig on.”
Kuroro got to his feet, picked up his mug and turned away, bringing it to his lips. He took a sip of coffee and pulled his cellphone out.
“Dinner is in an hour,” he told the blond. “It's a fifteen minute drive and we had better get there early.”
“I'll do the lipstick myself,” Kurapica affirmed.
Kuroro nodded and wordlessly made his way to the counter for a refill. Kurapica emptied the rest of his own coffee. His hands were still shaking when he set his mug back down. He took a steadying breath, closed his eyes and turned all of his thoughts to the task at hand. They had a long night ahead of them.
When he opened his eyes, he was ready to work. He went through all of the steps for his lips to be perfect for his role as a fashionable young lady. He then put his wig on and arranged it carefully.
He was ready to leave then, and they silently made their way down to the car. Kurapica firmly put all thoughts of fleeing out of his mind. He wasn't going to leave, not before he'd completed the mission he had set for himself. If the cost was for him to fall victim to the Spider Head's charms, so be it. He wasn't going to run.
Anyway, it was far too late for that.