Fic: Surcease of Pain; Divinity
Mar. 7th, 2005 02:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brigdhIgnore me, I'm reposting these to have them all in one place.
The last drabbles are here: A Key Turns (Hisoka/Tsuzuki) and Love's Secret (Tsuzuki/Hisoka).
Title: Surcease of Pain
Author: Brigdh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing Hisoka/Tsuzuki
Comments: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
stagesoflove drabble challenge, paired with the fic below.
Surcease of Pain. Attraction.
Something heavy and solid hit him as the pain clawed into him, and some twisted part of Hisoka's mind managed to wonder if he would remember dying this time. He hurt so much, and he was so stupid and childish to be afraid. He should have gotten out of the way instead of slumping to the ground; he knew better than to expect leniency. He'd closed his eyes- reflex, not fear, because he'd never admit it had stopped his breath to see the magic coming at him like a burning wind.
And then he realized that the pain wasn't his.
Those That Will Not Break. Romance.
In Hisoka's opinion, romance was a waste of time. If you weren't lucky- and you wouldn't be- you ended up hurt and alone again, so what was the point? Love was a lie told to hide the fact that no one cared about happy endings and hearts if they got what they wanted.
You'd have to be an idiot or suicidal to depend on anyone. People were cruel and greedy on the inside; Hisoka knew about the ugly, selfish things everyone felt but wouldn't admit. The world wasn't kind. It didn't even allow for kindness.
But Tsuzuki believed in romance.
Sometimes It Hurts. Passion.
Hisoka woke with the faint, distracting sense of already-healed injuries, and Tsuzuki lay motionless on the other side of the room. He looked dead. Hisoka fell out of his bed and stumbled to Tsuzuki's, angry enough to hurt someone.
"Idiot, idiot, idiot," he said, clutching the sheets with fists, shaking with fury, glaring as his partner opened surprised, sleep-blurred eyes. "Idiot," he said, crawling into the bed, slipping under Tsuzuki's lifted arm. "Idiot," he said, not knowing which of them he meant, and lifted his mouth to Tsuzuki's cheek.
"I need-" he said, "I-" and tasted salt in the kiss.
Every Day. Intimacy.
They eat lunch at the usual noodle stand and Tsuzuki gossips with the cook. He buys Hisoka a lemon square without asking and they argue over the cost.
The talk starts to dry up. Hisoka's disgusted when he recognizes it- he can't hold a conversation, he won't keep Tsuzuki's interest- but it's a familiar feeling, and Tsuzuki begins a long digression that hides the silence, and the moment passes.
Walking back, Tsuzuki ruins the punchline to a joke and laughs anyway. Their shoulders brush and shadows mingle into one.
Hisoka was taught to admire elegance. He's learning to prefer simplicity.
A Key Turns. Commitment.
Hisoka is covered in scars. It's more than the lines Muraki left on him; he feels shaped by his empathy and family and loneliness.
Tsuzuki kisses the palm of his hand, the corner of his jaw.
Hisoka doesn't know how to be anything other than what they've made of him, and he's furious at them, at himself, at the whole world. Anger makes denial easier: he isn't, isn't weak.
Tsuzuki touches his bare skin, unafraid.
Hisoka knows himself to be ugly, toughened and pale; scar tissue doesn't heal.
Tsuzuki loves him. Hisoka needs that more than anything he's ever known.
***
Title: Divinity
Author: Brigdh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing Tsuzuki/Hisoka
Comments: Written for thestagesoflove drabble challenge, paired with the fic above.
Divinity. Attraction.
Tsuzuki's new partner was unnervingly young. It was wrong for anyone to die that quickly. He was competent enough though, and he already hated Tsuzuki, so otherwise the partnership was running pretty much par for the course.
That was before Tsuzuki fucked up. It was a spectacular failure, even for him; people usually weren't dragged off to torture and rape right from his side. It'd be office gossip for a decade.
But in the grey susurrus of the rain, Hisoka ducked his head and mumbled something about sticking around. Tsuzuki hadn't earned such casual forgiveness. He pretended it wasn't important.
In the Details. Romance.
Tsuzuki had meant for loving Hisoka to be simple; he had loved all his partners. It made him superficially happy, but Hisoka kept surprising him out of easy emotions. He was furious whenever Tsuzuki was in danger. He would listen, frustrated, when Tsuzuki couldn't stop himself from pouring out some small measure of grief or guilt, and he would say something artless and brutal and kind. He had horrible, awful nightmares that Tsuzuki couldn't stop, but it was Tsuzuki he called to for help.
It was so important, anymore, to see Hisoka happy. This would hurt terribly when it ended.
Be Merry. Passion.
Morning light flooded through the windows thick and slow as syrup, and Hisoka was next to him, kissing him. Hell couldn't have anything this perfect.
Oh, Tsuzuki thought. I'm still alive.
He'd really tried this time. He'd finally meant- but if Hisoka needed him, it was okay, right? He was so irredeemably guilty that he could taste it in his mouth, like dirty coins. But if Hisoka needed him...
Hisoka smelled like smoke. Tsuzuki couldn't stop kissing him; he didn't want to stop. He wanted to do something good. He knotted his fingers into Hisoka's sleeve and didn’t let go.
Try Sometimes. Intimacy.
Hisoka didn't always like to be touched.
Sometimes it wasn't important; he'd pull away in annoyance or frustration, but Tsuzuki knew he didn't mean anything by it. Sometimes he flinched. That was worse, but they could pretend it didn't matter. Sometimes he was white-knuckled with stillness, fighting so hard to hide his fear, and Tsuzuki hated himself for taking Hisoka's courage.
And sometimes it was easy. Hisoka once traced his face with soft, wondering fingertips, and that alone would have been worth anything. Hisoka had an expression that was almost a smile, and sometimes Tsuzuki almost believed he deserved it.
Love's Secret. Commitment.
Tsuzuki measures the spaces Hisoka leaves in his life. It's not that he needs the reassurance; he trusts Hisoka.
But he finds himself counting out his certainties in the careless rearrangement of sheets and covers on a futon; he reckons familiarity in a book, finished and forgotten and half-kicked under a table. He has to rely on little things, because Hisoka's never been one for promises.
Love is more subtle still: it's how Hisoka glances at him from the corners of his eyes when he's secretly amused, or an impulsively wicked response to Tsuzuki's flirting.
Slowly, Tsuzuki draws his conclusions.
The last drabbles are here: A Key Turns (Hisoka/Tsuzuki) and Love's Secret (Tsuzuki/Hisoka).
Title: Surcease of Pain
Author: Brigdh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing Hisoka/Tsuzuki
Comments: Written for the
stagesoflove drabble challenge, paired with the fic below.Surcease of Pain. Attraction.
Something heavy and solid hit him as the pain clawed into him, and some twisted part of Hisoka's mind managed to wonder if he would remember dying this time. He hurt so much, and he was so stupid and childish to be afraid. He should have gotten out of the way instead of slumping to the ground; he knew better than to expect leniency. He'd closed his eyes- reflex, not fear, because he'd never admit it had stopped his breath to see the magic coming at him like a burning wind.
And then he realized that the pain wasn't his.
Those That Will Not Break. Romance.
In Hisoka's opinion, romance was a waste of time. If you weren't lucky- and you wouldn't be- you ended up hurt and alone again, so what was the point? Love was a lie told to hide the fact that no one cared about happy endings and hearts if they got what they wanted.
You'd have to be an idiot or suicidal to depend on anyone. People were cruel and greedy on the inside; Hisoka knew about the ugly, selfish things everyone felt but wouldn't admit. The world wasn't kind. It didn't even allow for kindness.
But Tsuzuki believed in romance.
Sometimes It Hurts. Passion.
Hisoka woke with the faint, distracting sense of already-healed injuries, and Tsuzuki lay motionless on the other side of the room. He looked dead. Hisoka fell out of his bed and stumbled to Tsuzuki's, angry enough to hurt someone.
"Idiot, idiot, idiot," he said, clutching the sheets with fists, shaking with fury, glaring as his partner opened surprised, sleep-blurred eyes. "Idiot," he said, crawling into the bed, slipping under Tsuzuki's lifted arm. "Idiot," he said, not knowing which of them he meant, and lifted his mouth to Tsuzuki's cheek.
"I need-" he said, "I-" and tasted salt in the kiss.
Every Day. Intimacy.
They eat lunch at the usual noodle stand and Tsuzuki gossips with the cook. He buys Hisoka a lemon square without asking and they argue over the cost.
The talk starts to dry up. Hisoka's disgusted when he recognizes it- he can't hold a conversation, he won't keep Tsuzuki's interest- but it's a familiar feeling, and Tsuzuki begins a long digression that hides the silence, and the moment passes.
Walking back, Tsuzuki ruins the punchline to a joke and laughs anyway. Their shoulders brush and shadows mingle into one.
Hisoka was taught to admire elegance. He's learning to prefer simplicity.
A Key Turns. Commitment.
Hisoka is covered in scars. It's more than the lines Muraki left on him; he feels shaped by his empathy and family and loneliness.
Tsuzuki kisses the palm of his hand, the corner of his jaw.
Hisoka doesn't know how to be anything other than what they've made of him, and he's furious at them, at himself, at the whole world. Anger makes denial easier: he isn't, isn't weak.
Tsuzuki touches his bare skin, unafraid.
Hisoka knows himself to be ugly, toughened and pale; scar tissue doesn't heal.
Tsuzuki loves him. Hisoka needs that more than anything he's ever known.
Title: Divinity
Author: Brigdh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing Tsuzuki/Hisoka
Comments: Written for the
stagesoflove drabble challenge, paired with the fic above.Divinity. Attraction.
Tsuzuki's new partner was unnervingly young. It was wrong for anyone to die that quickly. He was competent enough though, and he already hated Tsuzuki, so otherwise the partnership was running pretty much par for the course.
That was before Tsuzuki fucked up. It was a spectacular failure, even for him; people usually weren't dragged off to torture and rape right from his side. It'd be office gossip for a decade.
But in the grey susurrus of the rain, Hisoka ducked his head and mumbled something about sticking around. Tsuzuki hadn't earned such casual forgiveness. He pretended it wasn't important.
In the Details. Romance.
Tsuzuki had meant for loving Hisoka to be simple; he had loved all his partners. It made him superficially happy, but Hisoka kept surprising him out of easy emotions. He was furious whenever Tsuzuki was in danger. He would listen, frustrated, when Tsuzuki couldn't stop himself from pouring out some small measure of grief or guilt, and he would say something artless and brutal and kind. He had horrible, awful nightmares that Tsuzuki couldn't stop, but it was Tsuzuki he called to for help.
It was so important, anymore, to see Hisoka happy. This would hurt terribly when it ended.
Be Merry. Passion.
Morning light flooded through the windows thick and slow as syrup, and Hisoka was next to him, kissing him. Hell couldn't have anything this perfect.
Oh, Tsuzuki thought. I'm still alive.
He'd really tried this time. He'd finally meant- but if Hisoka needed him, it was okay, right? He was so irredeemably guilty that he could taste it in his mouth, like dirty coins. But if Hisoka needed him...
Hisoka smelled like smoke. Tsuzuki couldn't stop kissing him; he didn't want to stop. He wanted to do something good. He knotted his fingers into Hisoka's sleeve and didn’t let go.
Try Sometimes. Intimacy.
Hisoka didn't always like to be touched.
Sometimes it wasn't important; he'd pull away in annoyance or frustration, but Tsuzuki knew he didn't mean anything by it. Sometimes he flinched. That was worse, but they could pretend it didn't matter. Sometimes he was white-knuckled with stillness, fighting so hard to hide his fear, and Tsuzuki hated himself for taking Hisoka's courage.
And sometimes it was easy. Hisoka once traced his face with soft, wondering fingertips, and that alone would have been worth anything. Hisoka had an expression that was almost a smile, and sometimes Tsuzuki almost believed he deserved it.
Love's Secret. Commitment.
Tsuzuki measures the spaces Hisoka leaves in his life. It's not that he needs the reassurance; he trusts Hisoka.
But he finds himself counting out his certainties in the careless rearrangement of sheets and covers on a futon; he reckons familiarity in a book, finished and forgotten and half-kicked under a table. He has to rely on little things, because Hisoka's never been one for promises.
Love is more subtle still: it's how Hisoka glances at him from the corners of his eyes when he's secretly amused, or an impulsively wicked response to Tsuzuki's flirting.
Slowly, Tsuzuki draws his conclusions.
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-07 04:48 pm (UTC)Have I told you how much I love you today? Seriously. This is the best, best, BEST way to start a morning. I'll write a more coherent response when I get home, but for now: I AM PUDDLE O'GOO. <3<3<3
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Date: 2005-03-12 05:28 am (UTC)But thank you so much: this is the kind of feedback that totally makes my whole day. ^^