Ardent

Disclaimer: I don’t own the YnM characters.
AN: a big Thank You to all my reviewers. Some of you have been asking about Tsuzuki. Have no fear he will be turning up sooner than you think.

eternal, I've heard about the earthquake and the internet over there being slow. I hope things are getting better over there. And yes, Hisoka has some feelings for Muraki. Muraki was the first one to show some tender feelings towards him so I think it would be natural for Hisoka to form some kind of attachment while at the same time he feels angry with him (you'll see this in this chapter). While this is a Tsusoka fic as well, it won't be that easy for them to get together. Hisoka has attachments to Muraki and he won't be able to get over them that quickly. Anyway, I do hope things are going well for you over in Taiwan. You consistly reviewed my story and I'm so grateful for that. Thanks

Rewiew: Yes, please but as usual, flames are unacceptable.

Warning: Muraki starts to show his true colors

Chapter 6 Dreams

Muraki unceremoniously dumped Hisoka onto their bed and ordered him to take of his clothes and then proceeded to undo his own. Just like the wedding night, the sheets were lathered in rose petals (this time the petals are dark red) and the room was filled with the scent of rose candles. A few of the candles lay burning on the overboard of the bed. Hisoka unbuttoned his shirt and pulled his pants off as he stared at the large ornate mirror that overlooked the bed.

“Why do you have a mirror here?” Hisoka asked hugging his legs to cover his nudity.

Muraki let his clothes fall to the ground as he gave a wide grin. “I’ll show you, my love,” he sat down on the satin covers and tossed Hisoka’s clothes off the bed before untying the white, gauzy bed curtains.

“First,” Muraki began. “Don’t you ever try to cover yourself up in my presence.” He pulled the boy’s legs out and Hisoka yelped in surprise. “Second, get on your hands and knees.”

Hisoka did as he was told and got into the position. He felt rather uncomfortable being like this with his bare ass in the air. It was more than just being uncomfortable, he felt vulnerable.

“Now, look at the mirror,” Muraki commanded softly.

Hisoka looked up at the mirror. The reflection showed Muraki draping himself over his back with one hand in his hair and the other caressing his white thigh, moving closer to his nether region. He not only felt vulnerable but he looked it as well. Hisoka suddenly felt dark lust dripping out of Muraki as his cock brushed against his butt. The emotion was startling and Hisoka grew uneasy. Yes, he knew that the man’s spirit was dark and perhaps a little sinister but he never realized how powerful the feelings were. He gave out another yelp as Muraki’s cock tried to find its way into his hole. Hisoka turned and shot a glare at Muraki.

“Oh, Angelface, don’t give me that face,” Muraki grasped Hisoka’s chin and kissed him fully on the lips.

Hisoka’s back arched painfully as Muraki continued with his brutal kiss. Hisoka clutched the soft sheets as he tried to pull away but doing so resulted in a loud slap on his ass. He winced at the heated sensation that stung his flesh.

“Don’t. Pull. Away,” Muraki warned in a low voice. He stroked the boy’s smooth hips before grasping them tightly.

Without preparation Muraki pushed into Hisoka, his fingernails dug into the tender flesh of the hips. Hisoka cried out at the intrusion, tears fell down his flushed cheeks.

“Mmmm, love, please make that sound again,” Muraki moaned in pleasure.


Hisoka tried to hold back his tears. There was no way he was going to give Muraki the satisfaction—

“Uh, stop!” Muraki pulled out till just the tip of his cock was still in the boy then slammed back inside, forced cries spilled out of Hisoka’s mouth. More angry tears rolled down his cheeks as he saw the look of pure rapture on Murak’s face in the reflection of the mirror. Not being able to look anymore, Hisoka hung his head low.

Muraki continued to thrust in and out of his bride, reveling in the fact the boy’s inner passage still welcomed him, still willing to massage him most intimately. A sheen of sweat covered Hisoka’s back as he continued to cry out and hating himself for it. Muraki buried his head in the crook of Hisoka’s slender neck, inhaling the sweet aroma that was purely Hisoka. Ready to come, Muraki yanked Hisoka up by his hair, forcing the boy to look up at the mirror.

“Watch,” Muraki growled. “I want you to see me have my pleasure.”

Keeping a firm grip on Hisoka’s hair, Muraki continued to thrust hard and fast while watching Hisoka’s face in the mirror. It was so arousing to watch those beautiful, tear filled green eyes glare with such hatred. Muraki knew, though, that deep down his bride actually enjoyed this. There was little doubt in Murak’s mind that Hisoka would become a proper masochist. With a few more thrusts, Muraki finally came and spilled his seed into Hisoka’s wounded passage. Hisoka collapsed as soon as Muraki pulled out of him. Hisoka was panting and heaving when Muraki lay down and took him into his arms.

Hisoka snapped. “Don’t touch me!!” a bright light suddenly flashed in the room.

Muraki stared at his wounds, noting that both hands and arms were singed and bleeding. “Hmmm, how interesting.”

Hisoka’s eyes widened at the sight. He hadn’t realized that he was capable of doing that. A sliver of satisfaction trembled in his heart. The bastard got what he deserved. A touch of fear hit Hisoka when he saw a smirk grow on Muraki’s face.

“Well, I guess I better clean myself up,” Muraki got up from the bed, leaving his wilted bride tremble in confusion. Hisoka was expecting some kind of punishment but Muraki had other things on his mind. Hisoka’s empathy was more powerful then he anticipated. He had to look up a spell to curb that power.

“Go to sleep,” Muraki ordered Hisoka before leaving the bedroom.

Hisoka sighed and rolled over to his side and instantly regretted it. Sharp pain shot straight up his hips. This isn’t going to be a fun night, Hisoka thought.

The only comforting thought Hisoka had, was that if Muraki should ever try to pull that stunt again, he had the ability to push the older man away.



Muraki walked to his study, determined to find a spell to quell his boy’s power. It was too dangerous for him to let Hisoka’s power go unrestrained. He stopped for a moment and sighed. He hadn’t meant to take the boy the way he had, at least, not for the time being. It was part of the plan, to shower the boy with affection until he was hopelessly in love with him and then, Muraki could take him however he pleased and Hisoka would beg prettily for more. Still, there was no reason to feel his plan was ruined; after all, his Angelface was a wanton masochist, who longed to be wrapped up in his master’s arms.

“What the hell happened to your hands?” a voice said, pulling Muraki out of his thoughts.

Oriya stood in front of him, glaring at the wounds that covered his porcelain flesh.

“My consort,” Muraki merely replied

Oriya narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t surprise me, considering what he is. You need to be more careful around that boy.”

“So you do have some news for me, then?”

“C’mon, I’ll help wrap your hands up,” Oriya pushed the study’s door open.

The two men walked into the study and shut the door tightly. Muraki sat down on his favorite leather chair while Oriya grabbed some bandages and kneeled in front of the silver haired man.

Taking the pale, white arm, Oriya gently began wrapping the gauze around the wounds. Muraki leaned forward and whispered into Oriya’s ear.

“Tell me all that you know.”

Eyes of amethysts filled with warmth showered him with love and admiration. Hisoka reached up to touch the face that those eyes belonged to; the warm flesh felt so smooth under his caressing fingertips. Tresses of fine chocolate rubbed against his cheek, making him feel safe and at home.

Blinking warily, Hisoka realized that he was awake, even though he had no desire to be. That strange dream he had was strangely comforting and he wanted to go back there. His hips and ass still ached from Muraki’s brutal lovemaking the night before. Perhaps he should take a long, relaxing bath to cleanse himself of the older man. Yes, a bath sounded like a lovely idea. Hisoka gingerly got up from the bed when the door opened. Muraki walked in with a maid carrying a breakfast tray in back of him. Quietly, he told the maid to lay the tray down on the table and dismissed her from the room. Muraki smiled widely at Hisoka, who looked uncomfortable being alone with this man.

“How are you feeling, Angelface,” Muraki asked brightly.

Hisoka glared at him. “Not that you really care, but I’m fine. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to take a bath,” he said coolly.

The silver haired man laughed. “Oh, my Angel,” he pulled Hisoka into a forced hug. “You can take a bath later. Let’s have some breakfast.”

Hisoka was about to snap that he wasn’t hungry but a large growl erupted from his belly. He blushed and wrapped his arms around his stomach in embarrassment. Muraki chuckled as he sat down on the bench by the table. He patted the seat next to him and Hisoka rolled his eyes but he did sit down. He was hungry after all. Muraki lifted the tray cover, revealing omelets and fresh fruit were for breakfast. They ate in silence since Hisoka refused to talk to his consort but if Muraki cared, he didn’t show it. When they were finished eating, the maid was rung in to take the tray out.

Without saying a word, Hisoka walked over to the dresser and pulled out the clothes he planned to wear for the day, a pair of dark grey silk trousers and a black short sleeved shirt. Muraki pulled out fresh clothes, a white button down shirt and white trousers, as well. He then gestured for them both to go into the bathroom.

“I want to take a bath alone,” Hisoka growled.

Muraki smirked, “And I want to spend time with my consort. Is there anything wrong with that?”

He then grabbed Hisoka’s arm and the boy willed his power to blast the man away from him but nothing happened. Muraki noticed that Hisoka looked frantic and smiled.

“Dear Angelface, did you really think I would let your power go untamed? I placed a binding spell on your powers this morning and I’m pleased to see that it’s working.”

No, his only way of defending himself was gone. His shoulders sagged in despair, giving Muraki no trouble as he led him to the baths. Briefly, he thought of his dream of amethyst eyes. A swell of determination rose up inside of Hisoka.

No, there has to be a way for him to escape from that man.


Six Months Have Passed


Hisoka sat out in the garden, under a large willow tree, reading a book. It felt nice to be out in the fresh air, with a breeze blowing through his golden hair. Being outside meant freedom, even if it was only a limited freedom, at least he was able to get out of Muraki’s castle every once in awhile. Muraki only allowed Hisoka out in the garden because there was a magical barrier surrounding it so there was no chance of escape. He also made Hisoka promise that he would stay under the shade so that the sun wouldn’t damage his pretty skin. Hisoka sighed. Muraki had a strange way of being brutal and tender at the same time. It tore at his empathy, these contradictions. A part of him hated Muraki for his harshness but yet, he couldn’t deny that the sensual touches felt so heavenly. Those feelings made him feel wanted. He continued to read, so absorbed in reading he was that he didn’t notice one of the servants approach him.

“Young sir,” Hisoka looked up at the servant. “The Master wishes to see you in his study.”

Hisoka sighed again. Muraki certainly had bad timing but he couldn’t keep the man waiting. Well, he could but then he would suffer from the man’s wrath and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the consequences right now. He headed towards the study and knocked on it softly. He heard his consort’s voice, telling him to come in, so he slowly opened the door to find Muraki sitting at his desk. On the wall, hanged a painting of Hisoka, nude on a bed of roses. Hisoka blushed whenever he saw that painting. Muraki showed it to him a few weeks ago with great pride. He informed the blushing boy that on their wedding night, he inspired him to paint his greatest masterpiece. Hisoka hated to think how many people have seen that portrait but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

“Ah, good, you’re here. Come, there is something I wish to show you,” Muraki got up from his desk and steered Hisoka out from the room.

“Where are we going,” Hisoka asked as Muraki led him through parts of the castle that he hadn’t seen before.

“Shh, we’re almost there,” Muraki said quietly.

Hisoka remained silent as they walked through the large, cold corridors until they reached to a single door, made of heavy oak. Muraki fished out a brass key and unlocked the door and ushered Hisoka in. Green eyes widened as he realized it was some kind of laboratory. He noticed that there was some kind of misty glass box with tubes connected to it. What was inside of it?

“What is this?” Hisoka whispered.

“This,” Muraki said softly, caressing the glass box, “is our son.”

Hisoka blinked for a moment. “Uh, what?”

“This is our child,” Muraki stated. “He was conceived six months ago.”

“No, no, no. It’s impossible!” Hisoka yelled. “We’re both males. How can there be a child?”

“Hisoka, it’s not uncommon for babies to be born this way. Throughout this world there are many same sex couples and they do need to have heirs,” Muraki explained as if Hisoka was slow. “You cannot give birth to a child since you’re not a woman so we had to do it this way.”

Hisoka sank to the floor, unable to comprehend all of this.

“Our son will be perfect. With your heritage and mine, there will be no end to what he could do,” Muraki looked down at Hisoka fondly.

“What are you talking about? My empathy? That’s a curse, not a gift” Hisoka said.

“Empathy is a rare gift,” Muraki said. “I highly doubt that he’ll inherit that. I’m talking about your nymph blood. Our son will be blessed with youth for all his life, just as you are.”

Hisoka’s head shot up. “Nymph? I’m not a nymph!” (1)

Muraki chuckled. “Your mother is one, therefore, so are you. Haven’t you realized that your body is so delicately structured whereas your father’s isn’t? Another trait of a nymph is that their bodies are made for giving pleasure,” Muraki took a step closer to Hisoka. “You took me in so easily on our wedding night. I knew there was something special about you.”

A child? Never had he imagined having a child this way. For years, Nagare told him that he and his betrothed would be expected to produce an heir to carry on the Kurosaki lineage. He highly doubted his father was expecting his first grandchild to be born this way.

“Angelface,” Muraki purred, interrupting the boy’s thoughts.

Hisoka looked up at him, his green eyes were unreadable but still full of innocence; he looked so vulnerable. It made Muraki’s lust soar highly.

“I’m giving you ten minutes to get up to our room and prepare yourself for me. When I get there, you better be on the bed with your legs spread opened.”

Hisoka made no attempt to move. Muraki’s eyes narrowed.

“I could always take you here on this floor.”

The wheat haired boy stood up quickly and retreated from the room. Muraki looked back at the incubator that held his son. He smiled warmly at it and touched the glass tenderly. He couldn’t wait for his child to be born.





“Exactly what do you want me to do chief?” Asato Tsuzuki asked.

Chief Konoe sighed in annoyance. “I want you to investigate Kazutaka Muraki. We suspect that he’s being using black magic in the past year.”

“Hmm,” Tsuzuki murmured, running a hand through his brown hair. “Well, you can count on me chief!” His amethysts eyes sparkled brightly. “I promise to get to the bottom of this.”

Author note (1): I debated whether or not to use the idea of Hisoka being a nymph because it occurred to me that some might think I was copying the idea from Laustic’s Nymph. The idea of Hisoka being part nymph was something I had in mind since I started this fic and I decided to stick with my original plan.

Also, I’m sorry about taking so long to update. RL simply got in the way.