Yami no Matsuei: Hisoka/Muraki/Tsuzuki
Title: Scheherazade
Author: Phoebe Zeitgeist
Theme: Intimacy
Rating: R
Previous Installments: 1, 2, and 3
Author's Notes: Over wordcount again, with the usual apologies and permission. And probably too short anyway.
Kazutaka has a pretty, insolent trick of lounging in his bonds, as though the position he’s tied in, whatever it might be, is the very posture he’d happened to sprawl into bed in. It’s provoking, and Hisoka suspects it’s intended to provoke: it’s as much as to say, You can make me available, but you can’t make me uncomfortable. Hisoka’s thought about learning formal rope bondage, but he doubts it would help, any more than adjusting cuffs and chains helps: Kazutaka would only smile, and stretch; and somehow bones and muscles would shift, and there he’d be, as much at ease as ever. The mysterious non-human DNA Kazutaka carries, Hisoka has long since concluded, probably belongs to a snake.
But he takes up the chains anyway, to show Kazutaka he’s noticed. And as he does it, enjoying Kazutaka’s little gasp at the wrench at his shoulder, he catches the faint iridescent gleam around the middle fingers of Kazutaka’s left hand. That’s sorcery that shimmers there: one of Kazutaka’s little get-out-of-jail-free cards. And Kazutaka must be feeling particularly fractious this morning, or else particularly paranoid, because this is the fourth one Hisoka’s found. Technically, he isn’t supposed to have any of these things, but realistically there’s no stopping him, and Hisoka doesn’t really mind. Spotting them is a valuable exercise, and taking them away is . . . fun.
He kisses Kazutaka to distract him, and reaches for the shimmer, seeking out its contours and nature. Sometimes the charms are tangible, and can simply be taken; sometimes they’re intangible, and Kazutaka has to be made to dismantle them himself. Hisoka feels slipperiness, and shaped resistance - and then he’s falling through air, and his clever Kazutaka, whom he is free to use almost as brutally as a murderer once used an inconvenient witness, is gone, and he looks up to find Muraki-sensei stretched out at the foot of the bed, already discreetly wrapped in grey silk.
“Well played,” Muraki says. “Damn it,” he adds, a hint of self-mockery in his voice. “I was enjoying that.”
Hisoka believes it. Muraki’s breathing is still unsteady, and he’s still flushed: a pretty effect on his pale skin and hair, all pink and silver, like moonlight on sakura. Moments like this, he feels, as he never did in his first life, very much the heir of his great and ancient family; for what prince ever had such a concubine? Magician, counsellor, warrior; deadly in battle; pliant and beautiful in bed; untameable by any other hand; and if Hisoka bought him with blood and pain, well, that’s how it goes in all the best stories.
Now he grins at Muraki and shrugs. “Too bad. It’s your own fault. You could try trusting me.”
But that’s a joke, and he’s not surprised to find Muraki laughing with him, and shaking his silver head. “Thank you, I think not. Tsuzuki will be able to trust you, if it comes to that. I never will.”
And of course he’s right. Hisoka isn’t sure Muraki could trust him if he ever left himself completely helpless in Hisoka’s hands. “All right. You could let me kill you.”
Muraki’s eyebrow rises. “Let you?” He pauses, as if he’s actually considering it. “No: you’d feel cheated. You’ll want to earn that.”
Hisoka nods; Muraki’s perceptive about these things. It matters to him that Muraki’s still dangerous, that he could miscalculate, that his dragon could slip its chains and turn on him. It’s something he thinks about now and then; more often lately, when he feels Tsuzuki’s gaze on him, and knows what Tsuzuki is wondering. Muraki’s right about a lot of things, but he may have miscalculated one. “Tsuzuki will be able to trust me, yes. And I’ll make it work for him. But -”
“Hmm?”
He hesitates, but he’s started now, he might as well say it. “He’s going to be too tame for my taste, isn’t he? After you.”
Muraki shrugs. “He’ll push you at first. He’s never needed to test me; he’s always known what I’m capable of. You’re going to surprise him.”
It’s not quite a denial. “Yeah,” Hisoka says. “And then he’ll be fine for five minutes, and then he’ll start to worry about me, and decide I’m too good to be allowed to sacrifice myself for his depraved needs.”
“And you’ll have to beat it out of him.” Muraki smiles a little. “Love makes things complicated, doesn’t it?”
“Too complicated,” Hisoka agrees. “You’re right. Don’t let me kill you. Me, or anyone else.” He smiles, slowly. “Not yet.”
Author: Phoebe Zeitgeist
Theme: Intimacy
Rating: R
Previous Installments: 1, 2, and 3
Author's Notes: Over wordcount again, with the usual apologies and permission. And probably too short anyway.
Kazutaka has a pretty, insolent trick of lounging in his bonds, as though the position he’s tied in, whatever it might be, is the very posture he’d happened to sprawl into bed in. It’s provoking, and Hisoka suspects it’s intended to provoke: it’s as much as to say, You can make me available, but you can’t make me uncomfortable. Hisoka’s thought about learning formal rope bondage, but he doubts it would help, any more than adjusting cuffs and chains helps: Kazutaka would only smile, and stretch; and somehow bones and muscles would shift, and there he’d be, as much at ease as ever. The mysterious non-human DNA Kazutaka carries, Hisoka has long since concluded, probably belongs to a snake.
But he takes up the chains anyway, to show Kazutaka he’s noticed. And as he does it, enjoying Kazutaka’s little gasp at the wrench at his shoulder, he catches the faint iridescent gleam around the middle fingers of Kazutaka’s left hand. That’s sorcery that shimmers there: one of Kazutaka’s little get-out-of-jail-free cards. And Kazutaka must be feeling particularly fractious this morning, or else particularly paranoid, because this is the fourth one Hisoka’s found. Technically, he isn’t supposed to have any of these things, but realistically there’s no stopping him, and Hisoka doesn’t really mind. Spotting them is a valuable exercise, and taking them away is . . . fun.
He kisses Kazutaka to distract him, and reaches for the shimmer, seeking out its contours and nature. Sometimes the charms are tangible, and can simply be taken; sometimes they’re intangible, and Kazutaka has to be made to dismantle them himself. Hisoka feels slipperiness, and shaped resistance - and then he’s falling through air, and his clever Kazutaka, whom he is free to use almost as brutally as a murderer once used an inconvenient witness, is gone, and he looks up to find Muraki-sensei stretched out at the foot of the bed, already discreetly wrapped in grey silk.
“Well played,” Muraki says. “Damn it,” he adds, a hint of self-mockery in his voice. “I was enjoying that.”
Hisoka believes it. Muraki’s breathing is still unsteady, and he’s still flushed: a pretty effect on his pale skin and hair, all pink and silver, like moonlight on sakura. Moments like this, he feels, as he never did in his first life, very much the heir of his great and ancient family; for what prince ever had such a concubine? Magician, counsellor, warrior; deadly in battle; pliant and beautiful in bed; untameable by any other hand; and if Hisoka bought him with blood and pain, well, that’s how it goes in all the best stories.
Now he grins at Muraki and shrugs. “Too bad. It’s your own fault. You could try trusting me.”
But that’s a joke, and he’s not surprised to find Muraki laughing with him, and shaking his silver head. “Thank you, I think not. Tsuzuki will be able to trust you, if it comes to that. I never will.”
And of course he’s right. Hisoka isn’t sure Muraki could trust him if he ever left himself completely helpless in Hisoka’s hands. “All right. You could let me kill you.”
Muraki’s eyebrow rises. “Let you?” He pauses, as if he’s actually considering it. “No: you’d feel cheated. You’ll want to earn that.”
Hisoka nods; Muraki’s perceptive about these things. It matters to him that Muraki’s still dangerous, that he could miscalculate, that his dragon could slip its chains and turn on him. It’s something he thinks about now and then; more often lately, when he feels Tsuzuki’s gaze on him, and knows what Tsuzuki is wondering. Muraki’s right about a lot of things, but he may have miscalculated one. “Tsuzuki will be able to trust me, yes. And I’ll make it work for him. But -”
“Hmm?”
He hesitates, but he’s started now, he might as well say it. “He’s going to be too tame for my taste, isn’t he? After you.”
Muraki shrugs. “He’ll push you at first. He’s never needed to test me; he’s always known what I’m capable of. You’re going to surprise him.”
It’s not quite a denial. “Yeah,” Hisoka says. “And then he’ll be fine for five minutes, and then he’ll start to worry about me, and decide I’m too good to be allowed to sacrifice myself for his depraved needs.”
“And you’ll have to beat it out of him.” Muraki smiles a little. “Love makes things complicated, doesn’t it?”
“Too complicated,” Hisoka agrees. “You’re right. Don’t let me kill you. Me, or anyone else.” He smiles, slowly. “Not yet.”