The Kiss of Madraykin

BY : The Drowess Nione Ithiliel
Category: Descendents of Darkness/Yami No Matsuei > General
Dragon prints: 1218
Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants of Darkness (Yami no Matsuei), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Their next stop was a seedy complex a few miles west of Sakurajima, back in Kinoko's home region of Kagoshima. Dulled light-blue paint chipped from immense cracks in powdery stone walls exposed to time, weather, and unruly tenants. The gray shingles on the shallow roof were peeling apart from themselves in thin, brittle layers, and rusting mystery-metal stairs covered in cheap, flaking black paint creaked loudly with every step, both veteran shinigami wincing as Ayumu bounded boldly upwards, calling down to them, "I know how it looks, but they'll hold up. Just don't touch the guardrails; people have literally gotten lead poisoning from them," he cautioned, pointing to strips of iron-based something on their right. Rugged holes dotted the bars, which were in even poorer condition than the stairs, both men being especially careful to avoid them as they gingerly ascended. The raven-haired man's pace only seemed to have quickened, as he shouted from the third floor, "Trust me, guys; the sooner you get this out of the way, the better." Deciding to take a chance by heeding the advice of a druggie, they rapidly followed his lead.

This risk appeared to have paid off; they'd reached the fifth floor in one piece, neither having crashed through any of the rotting slabs, and without having to endure the ear-shredding racket their movements produced any longer than necessary. "Kinoko-san," Tsuzuki whispered, beckoning him closer with a speedy hand motion. "What's up," the kid inquired, leaning his left ear towards the brunette.

"How will Fuzen react to seeing you? You're dead," the amethyst-eyed shinigami reminded. Ayumu sniggered in response.

"I don't think we'll have to worry about that; crazy bastard's always high on something. Considering his fondness for weird chemicals nowadays, it probably hasn't even sunk in yet, and that's only if he remembers anyone telling him. Don't forget," he added, "as soon as that door opens, I'm 'Ayu.'"

The partners nodded in a synchronized manner, and the pothead firmly rapped his knuckles against the off-white steel door to the rhythm, "rat-tat-ta tat-tat, tat-tat." As soon as the portal groaned open, nauseating fumes threatened to overwhelm their stomachs, especially Hisoka's, and Kinoko quickly rasped, "See what I mean?"

Hair this shade of red could only have come from a bottle, sharply contrasting ice-blue eyes, glassy and bloodshot, but complimenting a chestnut complexion. Fuzen stood maybe two inches beneath Tsuzuki's height, clothed in black basketball shorts and a white tee decorated with the outline of a giant marijuana leaf, the bright green words in the middle reading, "got weed?" His mouth was agape in a sloppy grin, further elongating his thin face as his low baritone voice greeted, "Whassup, Ayu?"

Hands slapped together and fists met as Ayumu adorned a lopsided smile of his own, replying, "How's it hangin', bro?"

"Same shit, different day."

"I hear ya."

Waving the three men in, Fuzen stumbled through the hallway, flailing his arms about clumsily in an attempt to keep a sense of balance. Hisoka's verdant eyes bulged with shock, nose crinkling in disgust as they made their way towards the living room, lead by the light of the blue television screen; this place put Tsuzuki's house to shame.

Beer bottles filled with various trash, thick layers of cigarette butts lining the bottoms of each one, lay strewn across the worn, stained carpet; what it was stained with was anyone's guess, as was the case with the many burn marks it held as well. The stench emitting from molding pizza boxes mingled with that of rotting Chinese takeout, causing the boy to place a hand on his companion's shoulder, leaning on him for support as his stomach churned angrily, and he didn't even want to know what the source of the ungodly odour drifting in from the kitchen was...

One look at his blonde lover told Tsuzuki how close the teen was to losing what little food he'd ingested on their way to this dump. Snaking an arm around his partner's waist, the taller man lead the youth towards the battered plaid couch, plopping down beside him. A relieved sigh escaped him when he noted that Hisoka's face had regained some of its color upon taking a seat.

His eyes then fell on Kinoko, who sat cross-leggedly on a tired blue recliner while Fuzen, about two feet away from his friend, had claimed an enormous dirt-brown bean bag in the corner of the filthy room, all the furniture together forming an almost-L shape.

"What brings you all the way out here," the red-head asked dazedly. "Didn't I just sell you a quarter?"

"Yeah," his client answered, "we were actually wondering if you'd heard from Durjie lately; we need a few ounces of dope."

"Huh?" Fuzen's face contorted in confusion. "I thought you weren't into man-made stuff..."

Shit. He needed a cover story, and fast. 'Him,' a quiet voice advised as he quickly glanced at the pair to his right. 'The boy; it's for him.'

"It's for the kid." The words spilled out of his mouth before he could control them. "He has these uh, episodes that leave him in a lot of pain--"

"Ahh, so he needs some heavy-duty painkillers," the fried one said with an understanding smirk.

Hisoka nodded and, much to the surprise of his coworkers, extended his forearm for the wasted man to see. 'The curse may be gone, but scars never completely fade...' the boy noted morosely.

"Oh my God..." For once, the wheels seemed to be turning in his drug-altered mind as the blue-eyed dealer gasped in dumbstruck awe.

"Some maniac turned me into his living canvas one night," the blonde bitterly revealed, quickly returning his limb to fold against his chest with its twin.

"No fucking shit! Listen, I'm gonna try and get ahold of Durjie, so feel free to..." Fuzen's shoulders shrugged as he failed to find whatever words he'd been looking for, instead chuckling, "...you know, whatever!" Rising awkwardly, he floundered into the kitchen, making painful contact with the yellowing walls more than once along the way.

Ayumu faced Hisoka, horrified, rushing apologetically, "Look, dude, I didn't know -- something just told me--"

"Whatever," the teen cut him off. "You needed a reason, and I gave you one. That's all that matters right now."

A grateful smile graced Kinoko's visage as he mused, 'He's not nearly as cold and callous as he tries to make himself appear...'

Emerald spheres slid shut in consideration; he'd heard the thought, but he chose to ignore it, instead inquiring, "Why haven't you asked him about Muraki yet?"

"I can't just start interrogating him as soon as I get here; it'd make him suspicious," the pothead explained. "Besides, I want to get ahold of Durjaya too. He was in it with Doc, remember? He'll probably know who saw him last if Fuzen doesn't."

The conversation stopped there as said dope fiend re-entered the room, flopping gracelessly onto the beanbag with a snarl of frustration. "Son of a bitch."

"What's up," the stoner questioned, "Is he not pickin' up the phone?"

"Not that," Fuzen growled, "He's in fuckin' India for some stupid festival!!" Sighing, he commented, "I need a beer..."

Opening a black refrigerator that no one had noticed in the darkness until that moment, he removed a can of Sapporo beer and popped the tab, downing half its contents in one swig.

Tsuzuki was practically drooling, mouth hanging open stupidly as he ogled the alcohol, completely mesmerized. He could drink a little on a case, couldn't he? It surely wouldn't do any harm...

"You idiot!!"

Tsuzuki's face suddenly met the floor as Hisoka's fist slammed into the back of his skull, earning a loud, cackling laugh from the booze's owner, who snortled, "Jeezus, if you wanted some, you should've just asked!" The red-haired man tossed him a can when the violet-eyed shinigami reclaimed his spot on the couch, his whimpers fading upon receiving the gift. Donning his most sincere, pleading puppy-face, complete with rivers of tears, he fixed his gaze on his partner, whining pitifully.

The youth's eyebrows twitched in irritation; why did that git have to give him a beer?! Tsuzuki was totally uninhibited when he drank... uninhibited, and very frisky. The boy blushed, recalling the last time his lover had been intoxicated... not that he hadn't enjoyed it....

"Fine," Hisoka grumbled, his cheeks reddening as the idiot suffocated him in a grateful hug, singing, "Thank you!!"

"Well," the dealer reasoned, "since I can't get anything from Durjie right now, I know something else that'll get rid of the pain for a bit."

Piercing peridot orbs narrowed as the fiend lifted an object into his hands, the illumination of the light from the television revealing it to be a large, zig-zag shaped glass pipe with murky water lingering in the bottom. The boy was fairly certain he knew where this was going, and wanted no part of it. Ayumu, on the other hand, was absolutely delighted.

"Sweeeeet!" Muddy-brown eyes sparkled with excitement as Kinoko rejoiced, "Nothing beats a bong!"

Reaching into his pocket, Fuzen retrieved a crumpled plastic sandwich bag filled with pungent green buds, confirming Hisoka's theories. 'No,' he mentally refused, 'no way in the Hells...'

Packing a few of the buds into an orifice remotely resembling a trombone mouthpiece, the doped one carefully offered the device to the blonde as if it were a holy artifact, saying, "The green hit's yours." The teen shook his head fervently, replying, "I've never smoked before, so I... don't know how to use that..."

"Oh, you're a newbie!" Handing the pipe and a spare lighter to his friend, the fried man ordered, "Show 'im how it's done, Ayu!" Kinoko graciously accepted, instructing, "See, you put your mouth in the top, flick and hold the flame over the weed, and suck in. When you've almost had enough, you lift the bowl up and breathe in the rest of the smoke. Keep it in as long as you can before you start coughing, and then let it all out." With a smug grin, he added, "Allow me to demonstrate," raising the rim to his lips.

He lit up, the water bubbling loudly as he deeply inhaled, and even in the dark Hisoka could see the billowing white smoke rapidly filling the bong. Raising the bowl, Ayumu cleared the chamber, holding it for what seemed like moments before finally exhaling a thick, immense cloud, the smell of marijuana overpowering the room. Fuzen heartily applaused, cheering "Taken like a champ, as always!"

"Thank you, thank you," Kinoko boastfully proclaimed, twirling his hand about in the air as he bowed his torso, then leaning over to place the bong and lighter at Hisoka's feet, who stared at the thing as if it were a rabid animal.

"What's the matter," the red-head asked, a light wave of suspicion eminating from his person.

"Nothing," the empath hurriedly replied, still gawking at the pipe, afraid to even touch the abomination.

"So what's keepin' ya, camper?" Fuzen then challenged, blue eyes gleaming dangerously, "It's not like you're a C.I. or anything, right?"

"No," the boy vehemently denied, snatching the lighter and bong into his shaking hands defiantly, apprehension twisting his insides.

"Then take your hit."

Despite being poorly versed in slang, he knew what Fuzen was accusing him of being: a confidential informant. A snitch. If they wanted any information about Muraki, he had to prove himself otherwise. He placed the rim over his mouth nervously, fumbling with the fire-stick and, after half a dozen failed attempts, finally flicked the flame alive, holding it over the smouldering weed. A long sigh escaped him as he thought, 'Shit... here goes nothing...'

Sucking in as hard as he could, the teen winced as his lungs and throat began to burn, eyes watering uncontrollably. He quickly raised the large bowl, hardly managing to clear the rest of the smoke as a series of strange choking noises threatened to leave his closed mouth, passing the devices to Tsuzuki before finally releasing the smog.

"Woooo!! He got a good one," Ayumu hollered as he and the dealer clapped vigorously.

"Just don't cough," Fuzen warned as he switched his PS2 on, "it'll burn even more."

Supressing the urge to hack his lungs up was nearly impossible as Hisoka gasped for air, but somehow, he complied.

"You took that pretty well," the raven-haired man complimented, beaming as he sent the boy a look of profound approval.

Already, the pale youth was beginning to feel the effects; everything seemed to have slowed down, his mind in a haze as a tingling sensation crept into his skin. He sank into the couch absently as Led Zeppelin tunes began pouring from the tv speakers, lazily turning his head to face Tsuzuki, who had followed his lead and was currently taking a hit of his own. Glazing verdant gems watched the hypnotic dance of ethereal plumes curling and twisting gracefully within the glass instrument, disappearing before his eyes in one swift, fluid motion as the brunette finished his turn, returning the pipe to its owner. His partner then tilted his head back, eyes closed and mouth open in a state of absolute calm as the smoke continued its seductive routine.

'Oh, Gods...'

It reminded him of other times he'd seen his lover's head thrown back, desire-molten amethyst gems shut tightly, moaning Hisoka's name, slender fingers running through his flaxen hair as he took the man into his mouth---

'Wait...' A thought struck the younger shinigami as the older man leaned forward, blowing out the remaining smoke. 'Why does it seem like he's done this before?!'

"I hate to mooch," Tsuzuki started, scratching the back of his scalp sheepishly as he addressed Fuzen, "but do you think I could have another beer?"

"Helpy selfy," came the generous reply, "I can always call Sakaguchi for more; he works for the company, so I get a lot of free alcohol."

The booze hound's eyes took the shape of hearts, leaping to the fridge and returning with over a dozen cans. He set them down on the floor before him gently, popping one of them open as he reclaimed his spot beside his young partner, who half-grumbled, "Baka."

********************************************************************************

Four bowls and a good many beers later (even Hisoka had a few, rendering him drunk as well as stoned), Kinoko and the dealer started to reminisce. "Dude," a very baked Fuzen slowly began, "you remember when you took a red tab and a white one at the same time? That was fuckin' hilarious." "Heeey," came the delayed response, "I thought we agreed not to talk about that..."

The baritone carried on anyway, barely containing his laughter as he continued, "You went out on the balcony and puked over the railing; it splattered all over my landlord's new Mustang convertible! He was so pissed!!"

"Yeah, well what about the time you overdosed on Viagra," Ayumu retorted as snappishly as his altered state would allow. "You had a constant boner for eight hours afterwards, and you never stopped bitching and moaning about how much it hurt!"

They were too caught up in their petty squabble to notice that Hisoka had more pressing issues to confront at the moment... horny Tsuzuki issues, to be exact.

Every time he found himself on the receiving end of Tsuzuki's lust-ridden stare, he blushed and scooted away. However, that approach stopped working when he ran out of couch to scoot on, and even if he couldn't see the scorching violet spheres, he could still feel them wandering perversely over his clothed body, which was almost more torturous than meeting that clouded gaze. To further complicate matters, they were now literally sitting side by side, the contact amplifying the desire he'd made every attempt to disregard.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki whispered in a low voice, causing the boy to shiver, "It's getting late; we should leave soon."

"C-can't you wait until they're done talking, at least?! It'd be rude to interrupt," the empath pointed out.

That was when he felt it, and instantly regretted what he'd said; he wasn't quite sure when his partner's smooth, gentle hand had made it down the back of his pants, only that his ass was being groped one cheek at a time. He also knew that an aroused Tsuzuki was an impatient Tsuzuki, and that his amethyst-eyed lover was certain to make him eat his words.

The lingering buzz throughout his body and his intoxicated state only served to make things worse for him as a slim finger slowly glided over his entrance and to his perineum, long and teasing strokes eliciting a sharp gasp from the teen's now parted lips. It dawned on him that one of the advantages of baggy pants was that his newfound erection was far less noticeable, especially in the dark. He only wished the night could also conceal the groans that begged release from his throat...

Watching his younger lover's eyes glaze over only made Tsuzuki's blood run even hotter, unable to resist sliding his hot tongue up the blonde's neck, then moving along his jawbone. He pulled away to find himself under the scrutiny of a molten emerald glare that screamed, "What the hell are you doing?!" He knew his love was mortified at the thought of Kinoko and Fuzen observing something so personal, despite overwhelming evidence suggesting that they were still completely absorbed in their debate.

"Settle down, 'Soka; if you let yourself get too flustered, they'll notice," he breathed. "It'd be rude to interrupt, remember?"

Hisoka really regretted those words now....

His fingernails dug viciously into the worn fabric of the couch as Tsuzuki commenced in sucking just underneath his jaw, the man's hand still tormenting him. 'Son of a bitch...' It was impossible to keep still at this point, the effort alone leaving him in tremors as his breath came in short, quivering gasps, his willpower finally breaking when Tsuzuki began pushing his thumb in and out of him. The tangy taste of copper filled the empath's mouth as he bit his lower lip to keep from screaming.

Forcing the elder shinigami's limbs away from him, he bolted to his feet, turning his back towards the bickering pair to face his oppressor, who peered up at him with the most innocent face he could muster.

"Something wrong, Hisoka?"

Gripping Tsuzuki's wrist with deadly force, the boy yanked his partner to his feet, growling, "We need to talk, right now," before dragging him into a spare bedroom down the hall.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Hisoka pulled the older man's head to his own, hungrily pressing their lips together with a heated moan...

***********************************************************************

Both druggies had fallen silent upon witnessing the pair's strange behavior, the dealer instead opting to play "Grand Theft Auto" as the reefer fiend idly watched. "Man, Durjie was acting pretty weird on the phone," the red-head recalled two minutes into his game. "How's that," Kinoko asked half-heartedly; Durjaya was an odd fellow to begin with, so he prepared himself for a regurgitation of previous conversations on the subject.

"Well, when I asked him if he'd seen Doc around, he got all pissed off." Conjuring his best imitation of the smooth, emotionless bass voice, he continued, "'He got what was coming to him,' he says, and then the bastard hung up on me!"

Ayumu immediately sobered upon hearing this, the hairs of his neck standing on edge as those words repeated themselves endlessly in his mind.

'He got what was coming to him.'

"Hey, dude," the stoner questioned shakily, changing the subject as quickly as he could, "you got any shrooms on you? I need a good fry..."

Pausing the mindless violence on the screen, his friend replied, "Nah, not on me, but there should be some in the spare room." Slowly standing, he mumbled, "C'mon," motioning for the brown-eyed man to follow as he switched on the hallway light.

If only they'd payed attention to the drawn-out groans and desperate pleas floating down the corridor, which were quickly escalating in volume, they could have prevented the horrifying embarrassment to come. However, they did no such thing, and in turn witnessed something that would forever haunt them as Kinoko charged into the room right behind Fuzen. They came to a dead hault, their eyes tripling in size, as they absorbed the scene before them.

A shirtless Tsuzuki half-sat, half-laid against the wall before them with his navy-blue pants around his knees, back arching with every empassioned noise he made, running his slim but powerful hands through ash blonde locks as Kurosaki's head bobbed up and down ravenously between the man's legs. The boy's pace became even faster, as did his brunette lover's gasping, begging between ragged breaths, "Oh Gods... please... Hisoka!!" With a strangled cry, Tsuzuki climaxed, his body thrashing about wildly as his partner swallowed his seed, the teen's small, pink tongue still searching for anything he might have missed. It was only then, in the afterglow of his orgasm, that the amethyst-eyed shinigami noticed that he and Hisoka were not alone, nearly shrieking in surprise as his face flushed further. Noting his lover's sudden reaction, the empath dropped the man's cock from his mouth, whipping his head around to see what had caused this change. Widened forest-green spheres blazed with rage, his own visage adorning a humiliating shade of scarlet as he bellowed,

"GET OUT!!!"

*********************************************************************
AN: Don't worry, they'll pick up right where they left off once they get to the hotel; had a last-minute change of plans. The next chapter is where it starts getting dark; you have been warned.


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