FORBIDDEN HUNGER

A/N: All right, here's the final chapter of the Forbidden trilogy. Thank you so much for all the feedback and support. If you've enjoyed this, make sure to stick around for other short fic/one-shots and a spin-off of this I have planned!

If Gon had learned anything in the past month, it was that he had become a traitor.

The word burned his insides like he had swallowed coal, where it remained within him. No matter how much he drank to cure himself, he couldn't wash it away. Running fingers through his mane of hair, Gon assumed the only treatment was either to kill himself or accept it the seven poisonous letters.

It was a blistering, hot day, and it seemed like an eternity had passed since he ventured through any civilization. After a month, he hadn't found any additional leads to reawakening his Nen. The last time he felt a sliver of hope, the feeling lasted only a few seconds.

Stores lined the promenade, selling goods of the upmost rarity and taste. Gon's lips moistened as his nose inhaled the sweet aroma of baked goods from a nearby stand. But he knew very well that anything sold on this street was far out of his compensation zone. He had sacrificed the last sums of money in his pockets for travel fair and cheap food.

Anytime he walked by a stall and a merchant locked eyes with him, he swiftly but kindly turned them down with a weak smile and a gesture of his hand. Gon never liked saying no to people. And perhaps that was why he had found himself in the predicament he was in.

He had come to this city mainly to find work. Not hunter work, but labor of a different kind—a safer kind. There must be a billboard somewhere in the midst of all this chaotic bartering, he thought.

Gon quickened his pace to avoid being pulled aside and offered something he couldn't afford. A sea of body heat stood between him and the city chapel, where postings usually could be found. The throng jostled him along until he gathered enough courage and strength to push through. Some people gave him sharp glances and one even cursed his way, but Gon pressed on. This was not the time or place to involve himself in unnecessary confrontation.

Once he reached the chapel, he approached a priest.

"Excuse me, but where can I find job postings?"

The priest pointed him in the correct direction, and soon Gon stood before a billboard covered in letters seeking aid. He sifted through them with a careful eye, abandoning any that called for a hunter's assistance.

He finally decided on a job as a stocker that paid modestly. He followed the posting's directions to a bakery down the road.

Gon opened the door, and a bell chimed. "Hello?" He examined the vicinity of pastries resting in a nearby display case and the aroma was almost as tantalizing and punishing as when he strolled through the city's marketplace.

A figure came out of the dark, startling him. The baker crossed his arms over his chest. "Can I help you?"

Gon lifted the posting. "I'm here about the stocking job."

The baker's eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, forgive me. Yes, thank you. I forgot I posted that." He came around the side of the display case to shake Gon's hand. "You're quite muscular. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Are you a traveler?"

"Something like that, yes."

The baker's eyes narrowed. "A hunter?"

Gon hesitated. A wave of images overflowed him, and his knees buckled. An obscured face with a Cheshire smile invaded his thoughts. A few deep breaths helped steady him before he could collapse. He shook his head. No, sir."

"Hmm, you took me for one." He shrugged. "Anyway. How comfortable are you with heavy lifting?"

"I suppose it depends on the weight, sir," Gon replied. "But I'm fairly capable of lifting more than most people."

The baker nodded, pleased. "All right. I have some flour bags I need to transfer. Do you mind helping me?"

Gon nodded, and the baker led him to the back room where boxes and boxes of supplies rested. The baker opened a few to reveal several large flour bags to the teen. Gon had maintained a regular workout regime that included weight training and cardio. Even a large bag like this didn't seem as threatening to him as it would to someone else.

"Go on, let me see if you can handle it."

Gon steadied his breathing once again and planted his feet firmly on the ground. He clutched the bag on either side, digging his nails into the fabric, feeling the powder beneath. Flexing, he pulled on the bag. It didn't budge. He pulled again. Still nothing.

In his peripheral vision, the baker pursed his lips.

Gon repositioned himself and clenched his teeth. When he tried this time, the bag lifted, and he narrowly avoided losing balance as he threw it over his shoulder. "Where do you want this?"

The baker nodded to a rack. "Over there will do."

Gon hauled the bag over as instructed and dropped it.

"Just stack them as you go," the baker said. "I need a couple dozen of them on the rack at least."

Gon spent the rest of the afternoon hauling bags back and forth. His spine ached along the way. Once the baker returned, Gon hauled well over two hundred bags onto the rack. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and fanned himself.

"Wow," the baker said, resting his hands on his waist. "I think you've passed the test."

Gon smiled, relieved.

During the next few weeks, he continued this routine. Eventually, building in confidence and finding other opportunities around the store. One day, the baker called him into the front.

"We have a delivery, Gon," he said, planting a box on the display counter in front of the teen. "I need you to do this. Here's the address." He slid a piece of paper toward him.

Gon read the directions, pocketed the piece of paper, and placed the box inside a bag. "All right. I'll be back soon, Gramps."

The baker grumbled at the nickname but waved him off regardless. "Safe travels."

Gon traversed back roads and alleyways to reach the designated spot. He stood before a five-star hotel that nearly reached the clouds. The room he was instructed to drop off the box sat far above in the hundreds.

Beyond the receptionist desk, he took the elevator to the room's level. Gon walked down the long hallway and knocked on Room 104. He waited as the bag in his hand grew heavy, and he had to change hands. He knocked again with more force. When no answer followed, he considered two things: one, a false address, or two, the client wasn't home. Should he leave the bag on the doorknob? No, that seemed stupid. He should just return to the bakery.

Well, that was a waste of time.

Upon his return, Gon ambled in through the front door and sighed. "Hey, Gramps, nobody was there so I decided to…" The room was pitch black, not the way he had left it, and Gon knew it was far too early for closing time. Something steely entered his nose. Within the thin light, a dark mass sat above the display case. Gon's body instantly went taut, and his hand shook as he felt for the switch.

He found it and flicked the light on. The bag slid out of his grasp.

The sight that stood in front of him could rival his experiences with the chimera ants. The baker's headless cadaver hung from the rafters, using his intestines as rope to secure it in place. His belly had been sliced open and the rest of his organs had been scattered around the store. On the display counter, surrounded by several colorful cupcakes, rested his head and something between his teeth. Gon fought his fear with curiosity to approach and pull the card from the baker's teeth. His heart pounded as he flipped it over.

All the contents in his stomach threated to pour out of his mouth right then and there. Gon's knees buckled, and his mind swam.

It was the joker card.

The card slipped from his hand, and Gon swirled around, prepared to run out the door, but a familiar face stood before him, blocking his path. He didn't need to say the name for his body to react in the way he anticipated. He dropped to his knees as his mouth hung open. Then a rush of ire flowed into his blood, boiling it. He leapt for the one who stood in his way with little concern for his own safety. Blind rage consumed him.

But the anger was short lived. A fearsome jab to the gut knocked him out cold, and he drifted into darkness and a pair of deadly arms.

Upon awakening, Gon met the baker's dull eyes. A scream escaped his throat, piercing his ears. When he tried to sit up, a strong weight prevented him from doing so.

"That's quite a voice you have, Gon." Hisoka hovered above him and rummaged a finger inside his ear, wincing. "I thought you'd be happier to see me after such a wait."

"You fucking bastard!" Gon clenched his teeth together. "I'll fucking kill you. I swear it—mmmh!" But his threat had been devoured by a thick kiss, doused with a slippery tongue that seized his own and made it dance in perfect harmony. Gon wiggled his head and kicked, doing anything in his immobile state to release him from this torture.

Hisoka groaned beneath the kiss and bit Gon's bottom lip in what could have been retaliation. Gon tasted blood, and the metallic flavor paralyzed him long enough for the redhead to regain control in earnest. As one hand gripped the teen's arms over his head, the other slid between his loins and wrapped his fingers around Gon's cock. Gon hadn't realized until that moment that he had been completely stripped of his clothes. The teen's back arched, and he released a muffled moan, which he instantly regretted for it only seemed to encourage the Beast more.

Hisoka's thumb rubbed the head of his cock while his other fingers clenched Gon's shaft with a firm but also pleasurable tightness. He finally broke away from the kiss, giving the teen time to gasp for oxygen. But the pause didn't last as long as Gon wished, for Hisoka was already working on nibbling his nipples. Gon pressed his lips together and shut his eyes to avoid giving into ecstasy but to no avail. His mind fogged up.

"Don't fight it, Gon," Hisoka cooed. "You know you've missed this. Your body certainly has. Just accept it."

"Fuck you," he hissed. "There's…no way I'd accept you."

Hisoka's grip around his shaft became sharp. Gon let out a whine when he felt one of the redhead's nails dig into the sensitive skin between his thighs.

But after seeing the baker, he imagined the poor man's last moments: No inkling at first of who had stepped into his store, and then an inexplicable sense of fear washed over him as those demonic eyes looked at him—through him, rather. Studying him. And despite what he might have said to the red-haired demon, the end came anyway. And it was slow and painful and terrifying.

Tears welled in Gon's eyes. He had done this. The only reason Gramps was dead was because of him. He had let this monster follow him and take him at his convenience without truly fighting back. His weak-mindedness led to someone else's demise. Gon only had himself to blame.

Hisoka's skillful hand and tongue drew Gon closer and closer to the edge until he stood on the precipice of his euphoria. His mind couldn't focus on his guilt for long. The heat rose in his body, and his back arched. A loud moan slipped between his lips, and the world became a haze for a few breathless moments.

"You came so fast," Hisoka said, amused.

Instead of a harsh retort, Gon turned his head when the red-haired demon lowered his. But he instantly regretted doing so as Hisoka claimed his neck with wet kisses and a few prickling nibbles. Then he sucked on Gon's skin, and Gon shook his head vehemently to fight him off from marking him. Too late.

"You're mine, Gon. Accept it."

Even in the dim light, Gon could see the outline of his adversary's naked torso. His abs created ripples along his ivory-colored abdomen, and his yellow eyes glowed with lust. It was no secret to Gon that he both feared and desired those eyes. His own sickening fantasies from their last encounter crawled into his brain like a parasitic bug. The memories became fresh, and his cock became hard. This was not what he wanted mentally, but his physical being refused to comply. As if his mind and body had become locked in a tug-of-war for the third time. In the previous two instances, his body had proven victorious.

His skin had yearned for this ever since Hisoka branded him with his seed. Gon knew that the longer he let the Beast convince him, the more likely he would fall prey to his advances again.

Two defining factors kept him afloat: The baker's body still laid hanging in the front of the store. And his head rested next to him, chastising Gon for being absent when Hisoka had stepped through the door.

Gon released a gasp when Hisoka's mouth wrapped around his shaft, flicking his tongue back and forth against Gon's member. In this new position, he pulled Gon's arms down over his head and across his chest. The teen cringed, but despite his situation, he noticed something he hadn't ever before.

In the faint light, a scar reached across the back of Hisoka's left shoulder. The wound seemed recent, still scabbed over in parts. With the redhead's attention lowered onto Gon's cock, he had unintentionally exposed the one vulnerability Gon assumed he'd abandoned—his mortality.

Hisoka may have looked like the humanoid equivalent of a demonic monstrosity. He may have had a tendency to kill for pleasure and sport. He may have tricked Gon into narrowly killing himself several times. But he was still just as capable of succumbing to death as a boy who had lost his Nen was.

All the bliss in his body wavered. Gon sat his head up and said, "Stop. I'm not doing this. Not with you anymore."

Hisoka was still fixated on the teen's loins.

Gon raised one foot and pushed the redhead back by his shoulder. "Enough. I'm done. Get off."

Hisoka's face left Gon's lower regions, and his animalistic eyes gazed up at him. His mouth turned downward. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying no."

"You're lying."

"No I'm not. If you think I am then you'd might as well kill me now," Gon said with a bite in his tone. "I'm not afraid of you anymore. You can't control me. I won't let you do this again." He sat up, hiking his knees to his stomach. "Whatever this was between us is over. I don't need you." And with complete certainty, he finished with, "You're the one who needs me."

The Beast paused. A fire seemed to burn in his hellish pupils that Gon couldn't stray from. If he dared advert his eyes, he'd forfeit everything he had just said. His body would return to the shadows, submitting itself to the Beast's grasp once and forever more. Gon feared if that happened, he'd never be able to resurface from the darkness.

Hisoka kept his gaze on him as he slipped his weight off the teen and collected his clothing from somewhere in the room. Gon listened to zipping and a belt fasted and watched Hisoka's silhouette move across the room. It seemed like he was preparing to leave.

"Aren't you going to kill me?"

Hisoka froze until he appeared like a statue. Then his mouth crawled up into a smile. "Now why would I do that? It's more fun watching you suffer." He nodded to the baker's head.

Gon briefly glanced at the fleshy bust. Heat rose in his face. A tingling sensation cloaked his skin like a blanket. "Hisoka," he said before the beast could melt into the shadows completely. "When I regain my Nen, I promise I will be the one to kill you."

The crooked smile on the redhead's face seemed to grow even thicker. "My precious, Gon. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Within moments, Hisoka evaporated into nothing.

When he knew the danger was over, Gon curled his arms around his legs and sobbed into his knees.

The next few days dragged on. Gon couldn't bring the baker's death publicly for fear he'd be considered a suspect. Therefore, he quietly buried the old man in the outskirts of the city where the forest lay thick. Gon clapped his palms together and mumbled a soft prayer he had learned from his travels, along with a plea for forgiveness. Tears poured down his cheeks, and he fought to wipe them away. But they were stronger than him.

The baker had no relatives to Gon's knowledge and thus no one came to claim the bakery. What he didn't bury with the baker he left in an anonymous note hung on the front door. Whoever saw the note wouldn't find Gon. There was nothing left for him here but troubled thoughts and disturbing memories. So he turned his back to the store and headed for the city gates. His next destination, he didn't know, perhaps the farther he wandered the more likely he'd find his answers. The world was endless exploration and fraught with danger. And somewhere within this tempest of wonder and horrors, he'd meet his end, but not before Hisoka would.