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When Illumi wakes up, his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. He swallows thickly and lets it click dryly against the roof of his mouth, refusing to give in to the pang of guilt when he can’t make it move, can’t make himself speak.
“Illumi?”
It’s seven a.m. - Illumi follows a strict routine when he can, only allows interruptions to it when he’s been warned (or when they’re completely unavoidable, which, with Hisoka in his life, is fairly commonplace). Hisoka isn’t usually awake by this time in the morning, which is a disruption to Illumi’s schedule that he’s quite happy to accommodate.
He clicks his tongue again and warm fingers find the seam of his lips and press inside, feeling around the corners of his mouth, rubbing against his teeth and running against the callouses on his frozen tongue. Hisoka just likes to feel him, would explore every inch of him for hours like this if Illumi ever let him; for now, Illumi allows the touch for a few moments and then closes his teeth gently around the tips of Hisoka’s fingers.
Hisoka huffs, rolling Illumi over and propping himself up on his elbows so they’re looking at each other. He’s got bags under his eyes, faint purpling bruises, but they make his eyes bright - he looks like he’s staring at Illumi through discs of molten gold, like a medal, or a gemstone.
His fiance is still yet to expose exactly how he manages to get his hair to stand on end the way it does - Illumi knows there are pots of gel and styling cream in their bathroom, but he’s opened them before, and they stored teeth (decidedly not Hisoka’s) rather than any actual product. Illumi’s best guess so far is that he uses his nen somehow...he dreads to think of Bungee Gum in Hisoka’s hair.
Right now, before Hisoka’s had any chance to fiddle with his appearance, his hair lies in flat, straight strands around his face. It lacks its usual volume, plastered to his head on one side from the weight of him sleeping on it.
Illumi’s still used to being allowed to have preferences, but he knows that he prefers Hisoka without makeup on. He’s tanner, for one, and when Illumi reaches a hand up gracefully to cup his cheek, the contrast between their skin makes his chest ache. Hisoka leans his freckled cheek into the contact and Illumi rubs at the spot he usually draws his little doodles.
Hisoka shifts his fingers, the ones still exploring the cavern of Illumi’s mouth and he wrinkles his nose, biting a little harder - Hisoka yelps and yanks his hand away, pouting forlornly. The sunlight peeking through the open curtains catches his hair, casting it in copper. He looks like he has a halo.
His beauty seems illogical sometimes.
“Good morning, Illumi, dear,” Hisoka murmurs, holding his hand up to the light and studying the imprints of Illumi’s teeth on his slender digits. “I think you’ve bruised me, darling.”
Illumi stares at him.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. It is my fault,” Hisoka sighs, letting his damp fingers fall back down to the bed. “Is it one of those days?” Hisoka asks softly and Illumi blinks owlishly. Hisoka must take it as a ‘yes’, because he smiles and leans down to kiss Illumi tenderly, catching his bottom lip between his own. Illumi is fairly unresponsive under him, only tilts his head to receive what Hisoka offers before he pulls back.
“That’s alright, love,” Hisoka says. “I can speak enough for the both of us.”
Illumi would laugh if he felt like he could make noise. ‘Yes.’ he thinks to himself, ‘you most certainly can.’
“Up we get, then,” Hisoka purrs, brushing another kiss to the underside of Illumi’s jaw. His lips are warm and soft. “7 a.m. is when you go get ready, isn’t it?” he asks, shifting up onto his knees and letting the bedsheets drape off him. He’s naked but comfortable in it - Hisoka walks around without clothes on when he’s certain they won’t be having any visitors, simply because he feels more comfortable wearing only his skin. Illumi likes to see him vulnerable like that - he likes it even more because he knows it’s only him that gets to see Hisoka like this.
Illumi nods and sits up mechanically, putting his left foot on the floor and then his right, like he does every morning. The wooden floorboards feel cool under his bare feet and he scrunches his toes up at the sensation, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth again.
“My teeth feel just awful,” Hisoka pouts, “come on, now.” He’s not rushing Illumi, but rather reminding him that he’s there, every step of his routine unless Illumi requests otherwise (which Hisoka is particularly proud to note that he’s begun to start doing with his words rather than whichever sharp object is nearest to him).
They brush their teeth side by side, warring silently over space at the sink. Illumi digs a well-aimed elbow into a sensitive spot on Hisoka’s ribs, bending down to spit and rinse his mouth out under the tap whilst Hisoka’s distracted by his own theatrics.
“Illumi, Illumi! Oh, how you wound me, you heathen- what?” he arches a brow, toothpaste running down his chin in two tiny rivulets. Illumi points at the sink again, wrinkling his nose. “It’s only toothpaste, you just had it all down your face as well.”
Illumi flushes and flicks Hisoka on the forehead as he’s swirling clean water around in his mouth. His fiance stares at him as he lets the toothpaste-y water in his mouth dribble out messily - it's just to annoy him, he’s certain of it.
“Do you want breakfast?” Hisoka asks and Illumi cocks his head. “What, not hungry anymore? I didn’t gross you out, did I?” If Illumi didn’t want to marry Hisoka so badly one day, he’d leave their apartment right now and not come back.
Okay. Maybe he’d never do that, actually. Not that he’d admit it to Hisoka.
“Illumi?” Hisoka calls and he hears him asking for him, but doesn’t respond. Hisoka’s used to it, of course, so he doesn’t get offended at Illumi’s lack of recognition of his own name - instead, he leans forward and hooks his pinky around one of Illumi’s, bringing their joint hands up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles, one after the other.
“What’s next, my dove?” Hisoka asks and kisses the back of his hand. His mouth feels a little gritty with tiny specks of dried toothpaste and when Illumi scowls at the sensation, Hisoka pulls away and washes his face again.
“Come here,” he says, once he’s dried his face. Illumi exhales softly and offers his mouth, smiling involuntarily when Hisoka cups his face ever so gently with his warm hands and seals their lips together. “Better?” he asks as he pulls away and Illumi nods. “Mhm, good. Very good.”
Illumi rolls his eyes at Hisoka’s salacious grin and then encourages it further by unbuttoning the top three buttons of his black, silk nightshirt. “Oh, is that what you’d like?” Hisoka purrs and steps closer, replacing Illumi’s hands with his own. Illumi’s skin prickles when the cold air hits it as Hisoka slides his shirt, now fully open, down his shoulders. He shivers and Hisoka strokes his hands down his flesh, sharing his warmth.
“These too?” Hisoka asks, plucking at the waistband of Illumi’s pyjama bottoms. He waits for an answer, though it takes a while. Eventually, Illumi nods and Hisoka unties the drawstring, loosens it, and gently guides the trousers down so Illumi can step out of them. He always struggles to think when it’s cold.
“Are we going back to bed now?” Hisoka asks, arching his brow suggestively. He’s still on his knees in front of Illumi and it takes a moment for the way he’s staring between Illumi’s legs with hooded eyes to register.
Illumi steps back and into the shower.
“Really?” Hisoka splutters, getting back to his feet and peering around the edge of the glass partition between the shower and the rest of the bathroom. “Do I at least get to join?” he asks, even as Illumi reaches a hand back and yanks him inside. “And what are we going to be doing in here?” Hisoka asks, licking his lips and wiggling his eyebrows at his fiance.
Illumi snorts and fiddles with the buttons below the showerhead, huffing out a pleased laugh that’s mostly just air when he’s suddenly doused with water. It’s freezing at first and he scowls, pulling Hisoka in closer.
“Oh, I see,” Hisoka says, “I’m just here to warm you up, am I?”
He plasters himself against Illumi’s back, wrapping his arms around his chest and tucking his head down so he can nuzzle his nose against the tendon in Illumi’s neck. “Why, yes, Hisoka, love of my life and sexiest man alive,” Hisoka says in a much higher pitch, obviously an attempt at imitating Illumi (despite the fact most would say his voice was much deeper than Hisoka’s, thank you very much), “your only purpose is to warm me up and satisfy my every other need, but especially to fu- ouch!”
Illumi pulls his elbow back from where he’s jammed it against Hisoka’s ribs. The water’s getting warmer now and he reaches for the soap - Hisoka lurches forward and seizes it before him. The sudden movement surprises him and he freezes from his spot cradled in Hisoka’s arms. Hisoka must be able to feel the jump in his pulse from where he’s pressed against his throat, because he gentles his touch and explains, “let me do it?”
Illumi offers his body with a tilt of his head and Hisoka gifts him a chaste kiss on the cheek before dropping to his knees. He would start at Illumi’s feet, just to be contrary.
“Give me your foot,” Hisoka says, at the same time as he slides a hand down Illumi’s calf, tapping his ankle like one might a horse. Illumi lifts it obediently and Hisoka bends down even further to kiss his heel - it doesn’t really tickle, but the pressure is strange and Illumi wiggles his toes. The sleek bar of soap replaces Hisoka’s mouth; he spreads it down the arch of one foot and then the other, running soapy fingers along the tops of his feet, rubbing strong circles into both ankles. Illumi always complains about them being sore, like his calves, which Hisoka pays equally close attention to.
“Turn around, my love,” Hisoka says and Illumi does, leaning his back against the shower wall and spreading his legs just a little so Hisoka can settle between them.
“Turn around, my love,” Illumi repeats and Hisoka ducks his head and kisses his thigh. “Turn around, my love. My love. My love,” Illumi whispers, turning his head up to face the spray of water and letting it pour over his cheeks. He has to close his eyes against the pressure of the water droplets, but he decides he much prefers the sight of Hisoka between his thighs.
“My love,” he says, letting the words dissolve on his tongue like sugar. “My love,” he says again, just one more time. Hisoka glances up, catching Illumi’s hand and kissing his wrist. “My love,” Illumi says, though he promised himself he’d stop. Hisoka’s eyes soften.
“Yes, that’s me,” Hisoka replies, rubbing his cheek against Illumi’s hand like an overgrown cat. He’s much more annoying than a cat. “Going to clean between your…” Hisoka mumbles, moving the bar of soap directly between Illumi’s legs and giving him a few cursory swipes. Illumi twitches his nose and then Hisoka moves on, curling his fingers around Illumi’s sharp hip bones. “Shh, I know you don’t want anything right now,” Hisoka soothes, and Illumi nods. His neck is going to ache by the end of the day if he keeps doing it so much.
Illumi makes a throaty noise at Hisoka’s words and glances pointedly down between his legs, where Hisoka’s half hard. Predictable.
“Yes, yes,” Hisoka says, waving him off, “but you’re the one who started undressing in front of me and giving me those,” he wiggles his fingers, “those eyes . I thought I was getting something,” he says, but his tone is light. He’s not actually upset that they’re not having sex - never would be, not really.
Illumi didn’t know where to set his boundaries when they first moved in together after getting engaged. The boundaries of their strange, new relationship were a little ghostly in nature and he hadn’t been sure where they stood. It hadn’t been until Hisoka had taken him to bed, laid him down in the sheets, and then asked, ‘can I kiss you?’, that Illumi realised he could say no.
He hadn’t said no. But the option had been there - the option was always there. Hisoka made that very clear.
He didn’t know how to express his gratitude, so instead Illumi murmurs, “my love,” again and guides Hisoka’s face to the curve of his stomach for him to kiss. Hisoka dips his tongue against Illumi’s navel just to make him shudder and moves his slick fingers up against his ribs. Illumi shivers and smiles, biting down a laugh.
“Ticklish?” Hisoka asks, looking up at Illumi through his lashes. His grin is cheeky and boyish, and for his troubles, Illumi kicks him lightly between his legs. Hisoka howls dramatically, slapping the sides of the shower as he bemoans his pain. “Oh, the betrayal , emasculated by my own love. How am I supposed to give you children now?” he says and Illumi flicks water at him with pointed fingernails.
“You’re brutal, today,” Hisoka pouts and goes back to cleaning Illumi up. He has to stand up again once he’s lathered the soap over the arch of Illumi’s spine, fingers tapping against his lower back in some unidentifiable rhythm. Illumi has to pat him on the shoulder to remind him to stop - he doesn’t like things that aren’t rhythmic, particularly when he’s...like this.
“Can I have your hands, darling?” Hisoka asks once he’s stood up. Illumi closes his eyes, needing a second to adjust to not having to look down at Hisoka but rather up, ever so slightly; when he opens them, Hisoka is still waiting as patiently as he had been when he’d closed them.
Illumi gives him his hands.
“Your ring should go on this finger when we’re married,” Hisoka laces their left hands together, kissing Illumi’s ring finger. When he goes to pull away, Illumi squeezes, keeping him close until he’s pressed his own mouth to Hisoka’s ring finger. Hisoka ducks his head and snuggles against Illumi’s exposed neck, kissing him there over and over and over, loud, wet, obnoxious noises that make Illumi giggle softly.
“You still haven’t told me which ring you’d like,” Hisoka says when he pulls away, laying Illumi’s hand flat and rubbing the bar of soap against it, smoothing it up to his wrist and then up to his arm until he reaches Illumi’s chest again. He’d moved onto the other hand before speaking again. “I could always steal the whole jewelry store for you, my love.”
Illumi raises his eyebrows and Hisoka pouts. Clearly, it was something he’d been wanting to do.
“Alright. Not the whole store,” Hisoka sighs, setting the soap back down on the shelf in the corner of the shower and gently pulling Illumi forward under the direct spray of warm water. He tips his head back and makes a pleased sound, clicking his tongue, as the water plastered his hair back. The new weight of the drenched strands tugs at his scalp. It feels good.
“Feeling nice?” Hisoka asks, though he doesn’t need an answer. Illumi hums and tips his head back further, far enough that he loses his balance. He could have caught himself but he lets Hisoka do it, grunting as the other man crushes him to his chest, enveloping him in his strong arms again.
“I’ve got you,” Hisoka grins and runs his hands up and down Illumi’s back. They stand there, under the showerhead, bathed in warmth, for a few minutes, luxuriating in each others’ closeness. Illumi’s got his eyes closed again, forehead pressed against Hisoka’s, who’s watching him intently. It feels good to be scrutinised by him and him alone.
“Can I wash your hair?” Hisoka asks, twirling a soaked strand around his index finger. Illumi whistles lowly, sound a little lost beneath the noise of water hitting their bodies and the shower floor.
“Turn around?” he asks, repeating Hisoka’s words again. Hisoka nods and guides him to spin around and then pushes down on his shoulders until he sits down on the floor of the shower. Hisoka points to the shelf of shampoo and Illumi picks one that makes his hair feel softest. He likes to run his hands through it on days like these.
“Gonna start at the ends,” Hisoka says, though he really shouldn’t. Illumi likes feeling his hands against his scalp the most though, so maybe he’s just saving the best until last?
Illumi hums, letting his head loll to the side so he can rest it against Hisoka’s thigh, nuzzling his face against the wet flesh. Hisoka’s standing in most of the spray of water, but he’s got his head ducked so it runs down his back rather than soak Illumi’s head where he’s now resting it.
“Feeling good?” Hisoka asks, gently working the shampoo through the drenched tips of Illumi’s hair. Illumi grunts in response, turning his head a little more to kiss Hisoka’s skin, over and over, whatever piece of him that’s in reach. Hisoka laughs at the uncharacteristic display of affection and keeps working through his hair.
“You have the loveliest hair, Illumi,” Hisoka says and Illumi smiles softly at the praise. The shampoo Hisoka’s working into suds in his hair smells like lavender and Illumi basks in it as he lets Hisoka take care of him. “Tip your head back,” Hisoka says and slides his hands up to Illumi’s scalp.
Illumi does, exposing his face to his fiance. “Want to see if I’m making you feel good,” Hisoka admits and Illumi cocks his head further back. Hisoka pumps some more of Illumi’s shampoo into his hand and works it into a lather between his fingers, delving his hands into the roots of Illumi’s hair. The tips of his fingers brush Illumi’s ears and he shivers, closing his eyes.
“You’re so beautiful, my love,” Hisoka says and rubs his thumbs in strong circles around Illumi’s temples. Illumi sighs and wraps a hand around Hisoka’s ankle, tugging lightly. “You want me to sit?” Hisoka asks and Illumi tugs again.
Hisoka pulls his hands away from Illumi’s hair and balances them on the shower wall as he kneels and then shifts his legs so that they’re circling Illumi’s waist. “There, better?” he asks and Illumi grunts. “Alright, honey. Can I keep washing your hair?”
Illumi hums and those magic fingers pick up again. “Almost done, baby,” Hisoka promises, massaging Illumi’s scalp, right at the nape of his neck. Illumi twitches and leans back further, constricting how much Hisoka can actually move. He doesn’t mind though, just widens his elbows and moves his fingers to behind Illumi’s ears.
“Gold or silver?” Hisoka asks out of the blue and Illumi snorts when he realises he’s back to talking about the rings. “We could get another material, of course. Pure diamo- ow! Again, really?” Hisoka asks when Illumi elbows him for the millionth time that morning.
Illumi looks over his shoulder and arches his brow at Hisoka, who just kisses him wetly on the cheek. “I think silver would compliment you quite nicely,” Hisoka says, curling a strand of Illumi’s dark hair around his pointer finger. “Me, not so much.”
“We could get obsidian ones,” Hisoka says, cupping his hands over Illumi’s hairline and tipping them both back so he can start to wash the shampoo out of his hair. Illumi snakes a hand round to his wrist and holds on, not pulling or pushing, just wanting to feel his pulse under his fingers. “There’s mines in Kukuroo Mountain, right?” he asks, though he knows that there are.
Illumi twists his face and shakes his head - it’s not him saying no to the question, but rather him showing that he really doesn’t want a reminder of home every time he looks at his ring. He wants to think of Hisoka and only Hisoka.
“No? A jewel perhaps? Not diamond,” he hurries to add when it looks like Illumi’s going to hit him again. “Christ, what do you have against diamonds? Keep reacting like this and people are gonna think you don’t want to be the centre of everyone’s attention.”
It’s a joke. Illumi knows it’s a joke. He still flicks Hisoka anyways.
“Ugh, alright, alright,” Hisoka says, and wraps himself tighter around Illumi. All the shampoo’s been rinsed from his hair, but Hisoka lets them sit under the warm water for a little longer, until it starts cooling on their flushed skin. “Come on, love. Up you get.”
He stands smoothly, leaning over Illumi’s still sitting body to switch off the shower. Illumi groans and shivers, using his grip on Hisoka’s wrist, which he still hasn’t let go off, to stand himself. “My love,” he repeats again and Hisoka kisses him, holding him gently by the waist. “My love,” Illumi says when he pulls away and Hisoka comes back like a boomerang to kiss him again.
“Come on, let me dry you off,” Hisoka says and shuffles out of the shower. He didn’t clean himself, Illumi realises, but he knows Hisoka prefers to shower in the evening. He probably did it last night. Weirdo.
Hisoka pulls the towel off the towel rack and uses it like a scarf, looping it around Illumi so he can pull him in close - Illumi tries not to laugh at Hisoka’s cheeky smirk, but it fills the room anyways. Hisoka laughs with him, deep and melodic as oppose to Illumi’s strange, off-kilter rhythm. They sound good together, he thinks.
“What about cock rings- ok! Sensing that isn’t gonna go down well, I am changing the subject,” Hisoka says swiftly, shivering as Illumi’s bloodlust pulses under his skin. He’s turned on again. Of course, he is.
Illumi’s just considering if he’ll actually have sex with Hisoka anyway (it’s looking to be a yes) as Hisoka towel dries his hair when Hisoka says something that turns the yes into a definitely.
“What if we engraved our weapons instead of wearing rings?” he asks and Illumi shudders. “Oh? Good idea?”
Illumi looks up at Hisoka through his lashes and tilts his head to the bedroom.
“Ah,” Hisoka purrs and drops the towel. “ Very good idea.”