Dance Partners

Dance Partners.
By: Lady Jade

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. I’m really poor. My last pair of Gym socks died last week. You can’t even sue me for those anymore. Ok. YNM belongs to its prospective owners. I do not own any of these characters and I do not make any profit. But the fic is original, and mine. Ok. Next. This is a Yaoi ficcy. Yup. Boy boy love. If you do not like it, do not read it. If you flame, you will be HORRIBLY mocked and tormented by me publicly. You don’t want that. I, having been the butt of it most of my life, am EXTREMELY good at public ridicule :) Anyways, enough of that crap.

A/N: This Ficcy has hijacked me and will not let me sleep *sounds of author attempting to nail gun a plot-bunny to the wall* and I will write more soon. However, the more you review, the more and the sooner I write, so keep on me, ne? Ah well. Thanks again loyal readers and reviewers.

~*~
Hisoka thought hard. He could count on one hand the times he had been Tsuzuki’s apartment. And here he was, standing in the kitchen and relearning how to breathe. It felt good to be out of that club and at the same time, he missed it. Tsuzuki’s kitchen was cold, and he was standing in socks on the tile. It was bastardly cold. But then, Tsuzuki’s apartment wasn’t much, and he suspected the heating bill must have been overdue. It might have been summer, but it still got cold at nights. The place was tiny and dingy, but you could tell that Tsuzuki tried to keep it light and clean. Part of it made Hisoka’s heart ache. He knew Tsuzuki wasn’t getting paid. Much. He suspected Tatsumi handed him some money under the table to keep him afloat. Soggy cold homeless Tsuzuki would have been pitiful to behold.
Hisoka slid into a chair by the table and looked out the window into the darkened streets below and caught sight of his own reflection in the darkened pane. He did look good. He wasn’t given to fits of narcissism, it was just, he didn’t know he could look…attractive. He didn’t look like he was 16; he looked like he was a short 23 something. It was sort of refreshing. And it hit him all at once. What was he doing, sitting in Tsuzuki’s kitchen, pondering life in his leather and socks, and wondering what the hell the dark haired shinigami was doing out in the hall. If he concentrated, he could make out a few words.
“Thanks, no, yes, of course, yes. I’ll get that to you next week. Yes, no, I know the rent is overdue. Yes, him? One of my co-workers… Went out and partied too hard…yes, well….Ja ne!”
Tsuzuki scrambled into his apartment, slamming his door shut behind him and leaning on it for support, his hands still clenching the doorknob as if fearing that the scary lady in the pink muumuu with curlers in her hair would attempt an assassination.
“Sorry ‘Soka. The land lady is evil.” Tsuzuki shuddered. Hisoka noticed that that shudder was usually reserved for a really up close and personal conversation with Muraki. Poor Tsuzuki. The lady in pink must be a real old biddy.
Hisoka stood uncertainly; he wanted to go to Tsuzuki. He wanted those arms around him, holding him close. The other part wanted to run screaming, find Watari, kick him in the shin, and then cling to his pant leg and cry. Such decisions.
“Tsuzuki.” Hisoka was looking at the older shinigami like he might bite.
Tsuzuki locked the door, then glided over to Hisoka, easy, calm. He could see the uncertainty in Hisoka’s eyes.
“Why do you want to…dance with me?” Tsuzuki knew he was treading on thin ice. He seldom saw Hisoka look so raw.
“Because.” Tsuzuki murmured, lifting a hand to brush those silky blonde locks out of those amazing emeralds. “I love you, Hisoka. All of you. I love you when you are angry, sad and happy. And I love who you are, your soul, your beautiful eyes, and you. You are perfect Hisoka, every inch of you. That is why I want to…dance…with you. That…and you make me very happy.” Tsuzuki murmured, just barely managing to catch a diamond tear before it trailed down that ivory cheek. He moved in closer, so they could touch, if Hisoka wanted to.
“How can I make you happy…I cannot even let you be the first to dance with me…”
“That was no dance Hisoka. That was something taken from you by force. Dancing is about love, trust and comfort. If I am the first to show you that now, then it was no small wonder you feared me when I desired you then.”
Hisoka shifted from one foot to the other anxiously, vaguely recalling having smacked Tsuzuki on more than one occasion for having feelings towards him. He sighed, he had been so blind. He reached out for his partner then, and was rewarded when the dark haired shinigami laced their fingers together. Hisoka shivered, he felt so vulnerable…and yet…so right…but how did he tell Tsuzuki what he wanted? Needed? Well…his grandmother had always said when one needed to start…start from the beginning? He pleaded with his eyes, and Tsuzuki leaned forward, understanding his message.
“’Soka?”
“Tsuzuki…I want to…dance with you, but…I don’t know how to begin, or if I know the steps…”
“These steps are so very simple ‘Soka, and if you will just relax and let me lead I’m pretty sure it will come to you naturally…but if you get nervous…or forget a step…we can always just stop.”
“Are you sure?”
“You need only say so. If we have to work up to this, then so be it. I will wait for you for all of eternity, if that is what it takes.”
Hisoka leaned in until he was pulled into the hollow of Tsuzuki’s neck for a fierce hug.
“Hisoka?”
“Yes?”
“Come with me?”
Hisoka nodded, feeling a heady rush of fear, desire and apprehension; and for a moment, he nearly stepped away and ran. Tsuzuki had somehow, anticipated that he would panic, and refused to let go when he swayed uncertainly, and tugged him by their still twined hands. He chuckled reassuringly as he pushed/pulled Hisoka from the kitchen tile to the soft carpet of the living room, until they were in front of the couch. The taller shinigami sat, relaxing back against the cushions, and gently motioned for Hisoka to join him with another tug before he released his hands. In doing so, Tsuzuki left the decision of coming to him open by his release of those tiny hands. Hisoka understood, and appreciated the gesture. He wanted to go to Tsuzuki, but he was not sure how to touch, to move…should he? Tsuzuki sensed his plight. Hisoka was actually grateful the older shinigami had not taken it as a rejection. Tsuzuki watched the emotions play across Hisoka’s unguarded visage, and made a small initiative.
“’Soka…Like this.” Tsuzuki urged as he held his palms out at chest height. Hisoka once again twined his fingers with Tsuzuki’s, and then was drawn into the lean shinigami’s lap, his knees on either side of Tsuzuki’s thighs. He settled there, his leather clinging to Tsuzuki’s vinyl; and it felt, safe, right. It was good to be where he was. Tsuzuki’s hands came up, gently grasping his hips, long fingers reflexively stroking the pale skin exposed through the lacings.
Those violet eyes were watching him, curious, gentle. There was a moment of content between them that Hisoka found soothing. They weren’t moving fast at all. Simply touching. Tsuzuki’s fingers gently stroking his skin were comforting, not frightening. He suddenly found himself wanting those fingers elsewhere too. He knew Tsuzuki was waiting, waiting for him to tell him what he wanted, and should he do nothing, Tsuzuki was contented right where he was. Hisoka knew then for certain then what he had know all along, he wanted to taste his partner, taste those full lips and delicate skin. He let one hand tentatively stroke up the side of Tsuzuki’s cheek, brushing the soft mahogany hair out of those amazing violet eyes. The first thing he did was press a kiss to that beautiful forehead. Tsuzuki’s eyes fluttered closed in surrender. Hisoka let his lips skim across pcheecheekbones, leaving a small trail of shimmer, until at last, they hovered just above Tsuzuki’s, he could feel the older shinigami’s breath, warm and welcome against his skin, he could see the slight quiver in his lips, feel it in his body. Tsuzuki was trembling, begging, for his touch, and he could not resist that need.
“Aishiteru…Tsuzuki…” And then he let his lips descend, brushing like silk to that full mouth, his fingers roamed of their own accord up into those still sweat damp mahogany strands, twining while they exchanged breath. Tsuzuki tasted sweet, like wine, and chocolate…entranced, Hisoka lapped at his partners bottom lip, following the taste he so enjoyed. In a flash, Tsuzuki opened his mouth, yielding to Hisoka. The younger shinigami had not been expecting the reaction, and when his tongue plunged into the silken warmth of Tsuzuki’s mouth, he whimpered. He nearly jumped when Tsuzuki’s tongue brushed his gently. He was clumsy at first, uncertain, but as Tsuzuki moved his hands up to kneaded his younger partner’s shoulders and memorized the feel of his mouth, Hisoka slowly began to respond, until their tongues were sparring smoothly, no one winning or loosing until he felt as if he would die for want of something; Something he could not place. The emotions that were flowing through him were absolutely raw, unguarded. They filled his senses and left him shuddering. He could taste Tsuzuki’s emotions, and now, pressed against him, feel everything his partner felt, The taste of his own tongue, the sweep of his bangs against his, no, Tsuzuki’s forehead, feel that pent up need and want, the pure relief of knowing he was completely loved, desired and wanted. It nearly made Hisoka cry. This was all Tsuzuki had ever wanted.
Tsuzuki let them both up for air, gasping. He pressed the smaller shinigami closer to his chest, letting one hand cradle the back of his neck, then bent, finally, feasting on that graceful throat. He heard Hisoka’s breath hitch, felt the soft slide of that green silk shirt around his arms like a sensual caress. The taste of Sandalwood, sweat, and that sweet skin essence that was Hisoka’s alone filled his senses. The small blonde whimpered as his lips found the soft dip in his throat, and as they slid upwards further, he shuddered. Tsuzuki’s lips eventually found their way to Hisoka’s ear, and in one smooth motion, he took the lobe and earring into his mouth.
“Ahhhh….ahhhhh.” Hisoka simpered, a sound between pain and pleasure, mewl and word.
Tsuzuki gently cleaned the blood from under the piercing with his tongue, enjoying the sweet tang of Hisoka’s life essence, and the tiny little sounds he now made in the back of his throat. When he pulled away, he let his breath graze the damp lobe, making Hisoka whimper again, and writhe in his grasp.
“Tsuzuki!” Hisoka gasped, his voice thick with pleasure.
“What do you want…’Soka.” Tsuzuki whispered, recognizing the hunger starting to burn in those green eyes.
“Want you.”
“You want me?” His violet eyes were playful as he pretended to mull over the idea.
“Tsuzukiiiii” Hisoka whined in frustration.
Hisoka looked absolutely wanton. His head tilted back, his lips parted in a gasp, his blonde hair falling wild and tousled around his face. He was also giving him the look that clearly said ‘are you fucking kidding me?!’
“Oh ‘Soka, if you want me, have me. I’m yours, exclusively.”
Hisoka gave him a confounded look.
“I don’t know how to…”
Tsuzuki laughed, a purring sound that was both sympathetic and comforting.
“Here.” He placed Hisoka’s questing fingertips to the hem of his shirt.
“Start here. We don’t need to rush this dance koibito.”
“Hmmm,” Hisoka murmured softly, tilting his head so that he was nearly nose-to-nose with Tsuzuki, because there was an answer he was looking for. He was staring into endless violet, and saw such gentleness. It rocked him to the core. There was love, desire, sex, in those eyes, but above it, beyond it, was just gentle love. He knew where he had seen that look before.
Hisoka thought back to a Labrador he had once patted in the park when he was a child. Those loyal, loving eyes. The poor bedraggled animal had had no home, no name that he knew of, and no collar. Someone had just abandoned it. He took pity on it, and when his parents weren’t looking, he had stroked its head. He remembered because he had watched its eyes change, from just friendly, to needy. Because, and just because, he had petted it once: he had become its world. He had seen that need, that desire for love, clearly in those eyes. Those eyes that had seemed to say ‘take me home and love me.’ It was astonishing. It was amazing. And to see that look, echoed back in those violet mirrors of Tsuzuki’s gaze… Hisoka started to cry. Not able to stop the tears that began to pour unbidden. It was too much emotion. And the most depressing part was that most of it was being generated by himself.
“’Soka?” Tsuzuki asked, uncertain, his eyes wide with worry and already, imagined guilt. “Too much too soon?” Hisoka both nodded and shook his head as he buried a sob in that strong shoulder.
“This is all you ever wanted, isn’t it Tsuzuki. Not the sex, just the love. I was such an ass…oh god.” Hisoka couldn’t stop sobbing.
“’Soka, there…don’t cry…I love you.” It was Tsuzuki’s turn to be confounded.
“Tsuzuki, you…really want me…don’t you…because you love me, and want me…not because you want to fuck me…you really…really…want ME!”
“Now you are being an ass.” Tsuzuki chuckled. “How long has it taken you to figure that out?”
“I…I understand it now…you…and you…Please, Tsuzuki, I don’t want to stop…”
“Then don’t.” He whispered as he pushed Hisoka away long enough to free himself from his shirt. Hisoka’s gaze was frozen as his green eyes traveled the pale and perfect expanse of Tsuzuki’s bare chest. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat. He then turned his eyes back up to Tsuzuki, and slowly, deliberately, he reached out and stroked that pale skin, more of a caress than a touch. It was a calming, claiming gesture. His hand drifted down once, nearly to the waistband of Tsuzuki’s pants, and then back up to the shivering skin just above his heart.
“I want you to be my world…Tsuzuki.”
“You already are mine.” The older shinigami husked.
“I know.” Hisoka murmured, just before he leaned in to claim Tsuzuki’s mouth. He was still crying, and in the back of his mind, he hoped that Tsuzuki would understand. Apparently, the older shinigami had, because he deepened the kiss, again, pulling Hisoka into a world of color and emotion. It was like kissing soul to soul. Hisoka was still crying, but they were not tears of true grief. They were just from emotion of it all. He felt Tsuzuki gently pulling that silk shirt away from his shoulders until he was reduced to his simple black tank. The silk shirt went flying to land wherever Tsuzuki’s shirt had. That was in another universe beyond the couch, and he had no intention or care to move from where he was to find out. When Tsuzuki’s fingers first spread delicately across his back, under the thin cotton of his shirt, he nearly bit his tongue off. It was so sensitive! He could feel those fingers, tracing a pattern of some scar, but mostly pure energy, across that skin. He knew Tsuzuki could feel the tingling of the curse on his body, he was shinigami, how could he not? And yet, his dark haired lover never flinched. Just wandered, memorizing fearlessly. He tasted Tsuzuki’s blood in his mouth, he was fearful for a moment, but then as the taste faded quickly, he certain the small hurt would heal. He whined apologetically to Tsuzuki. The older shinigami simply moved to caress more of his skin, any pain Hisoka caused him, apparently immediately forgiven. He was lost as the kiss ended and he closed his eyes, Tsuzuki’s hands were at his hips again, and as his lips fell to the soft skin of his chest, just under the strap of his tank top, the older shinigami thrust up against him, rolling their lower bodies together softly. Hisoka moaned deeply and tilted his head back, leaning back against the strong hands holding his hips. Mentally, he was begging, ‘do it again Tsuzuki, please do it again.’ It didn’t happen, but in that moment of quiet desperation, with his head thrown back, he felt his dark haired lover slide under him, slide down the couch, until his mouth could reach Hisoka’s chest and stomach. He was supporting the smaller shinigami’s weight with arms now, counterbalancing his last motion, sliding arms up and crossing them over that small back. Tsuzuki’s mouth fell hot to the inches of the sculpted, lithe stomach that he was slowly exposing from the fabric. Hisoka was starting to keen under his ministrations, the small blonde just lost in that hot mouth until he felt the press of his tank top, just under his elbows, Tsuzuki had managed to push it up to that point, but Hisoka had to cooperate if it were to come off completely. Hisoka gripped Tsuzuki’s hips with his knees, and then slowly, sensually, raised his arms over his head. And then the tank top was gone. He sat there for a moment, Tsuzuki looking him over. He felt, suddenly, pitiful, compared to his older, brawnier partner. It was as if Tsuzuki could read his mind.
“Perfect.” Was all he stated before he seized Hisoka and lifted him to him as he stood. Hisoka, a little alarmed, carefully wrapped his legs around Tsuzuki’s waist, and then his arms around his neck, allowed the taller shinigami to carry him down the narrow hall, and as Hisoka realized with a small gulp. To his bedroom. But any fear that was there, passed as he focused on the ripple of muscle on muscle, skin on skin. It was so good. It felt so very good.

~*~

A/N: TBC. Please review? Bastardly cliffhanger, I know, don’t worry; next part is on the way, Promise!
Cheers!
- Lady Jade