"Hisoka..."
An eye twitch. "No."
"But I-"
A low growl. "No."
"Please?"
A fist clench. This time, no response.
Tentatively continuing, "I'll only be gone an hour, at the most."
Hisoka picks up his pen and still says nothing.
Tsuzuki smiles meekly and clasps his hands together. "So, yes?"
A long-suffering sigh. "I'm not paying for it." He closes his eyes in resignation.
"Thank you, Hisoka! I promise, I won't be gone long, and I'll work extra hard when I get back, and I'll use my own money, promise!" Tsuzuki is properly excited, because he is finally allowed (he has worked hard this past week) to go buy desserts, and Hisoka can't stand how quickly he buys the sweets and wastes his money; but it makes the brunet leave for a few minutes so that his partner can get the majority of their work done.
So admittedly, while it is an inconvenience for Tsuzuki to buy his candies and pastries as often as he does, the act doesn't come without its advantages.
Tsuzuki stops by his desk to grab his wallet, frowning for just a moment at the mess he's left on his desk. He considers sweeping the mess of papers into one of the drawers on his desk, but the guilt fades too quickly before he can actually accomplish anything significant, and his smile returns as he walks toward Hisoka's part of the small office room. The blond has already returned his focus to his paperwork, eyes trained on the crisp sheets of paper before him. He doesn't, however, neglect to look up at his partner, and he certainly doesn't reject the quick kiss to his cheek.
Because Tsuzuki is like that now, and it's almost nice sometimes.
Now that the two Shinigami are tentatively dating, and due in part to Hisoka's being infinitely more open than he used to be, and his newfound ability to not shy away at every hand on his shoulder and smile directed toward him, Tsuzuki likes kissing Hisoka. Not too often, and never when Hisoka tells him not to (which has not occurred once in the last three months).
They treat their cheek kisses as a sort of 'this-many-days-without-injury' setup. It's almost humorous on its good days.
But they haven't properly kissed yet, the blond thinks, because their exchanges of affection have been limited to cheek kisses and that one time they held hands six months ago (and Hisoka nearly had a panic attack).
Needless to say, they don't hold hands anymore. But Hisoka can't seem to hate it when Tsuzuki kisses his cheek - it's somehow less threatening than hand-holding. Maybe it's because Tsuzuki is warm, and Hisoka's never been kissed by someone who's as warm as Tsuzuki is; and maybe it's due to the fact that quick kisses transmit far fewer emotions than prolonged hand-holding does.
Whatever the reason, Hisoka finds the action to be Tsuzuki's new relationship tic, and he's glad that this habit is shared between the two of them. It's simple, and sweet, and chaste, and they've only been those things exclusively as they've dated.
They've also been embarrassing and awkward, and Tsuzuki's cheek kisses can assuredly become that as well in a matter of seconds.
But eventually, Hisoka knows, Tsuzuki will want to get intimate. Not now, perhaps, because they're still too enamored with each other to focus on anything else, but soon. Soon the brunet will decide that he's waited an acceptable amount of time (and he has), and he'll want to do something more than kiss Hisoka's cheek, because they're in a relationship, and that's the sort of thing people do when they're in a loving relationship. They do more than kiss cheeks.
Tsuzuki is an adult, and it's only right that he be able to engage in adult-like things. Hisoka knows this, and in theory, it all looks fine and makes sense. But he's nervous, and his hands shake at the very thought of taking off his clothes in front of someone else, and his breathing goes jagged, and he has to stop and calm himself, which takes much more time than he'd like to allot for the whole thing altogether. The thought of having sex scares Hisoka, and he hopes that eventually he'll want to with Tsuzuki, but he scares himself too badly before he can linger on that for very long.
Even so, despite his reservations, Hisoka considers himself happy. He's not the grinning, giggly type, and he never will be (he hopes); but he's at peace when Tsuzuki's nearby, and he finds that odd, because Tsuzuki is nothing but a moving source of emotions. But the excited energy doesn't bother him as much as it used to, and it lets Hisoka know that Tsuzuki's alright and also happy and not worried about something or someone. And that alone puts the blond at ease.
Hisoka stops musing and glances at his work; he's nearly finished with his own daily quota of paperwork, and he figures he could attempt to get some of Tsuzuki's done. It wouldn't take too long, and it'd be easier to file the papers if both of them could turn in their work at the same time, and it would also be a very nice thing to do for one who is involved in a tentative relationship with his partner. And Tsuzuki will be gone for an hour (in his words), which would mean that Hisoka would have another half an hour on top of that original estimate to work.
That's enough time to get everything done, Hisoka thinks. He pushes aside his fully-completed papers and sits down at Tsuzuki's desk. It smells like the taller man, and Hisoka feels a lingering nervousness that Tsuzuki must have left behind. He must have really been worried that he would be denied the opportunity to go dessert shopping.
But that's irrelevant. Hisoka breathes in deeply and starts on the work. It's tedious, but he prefers it that way. He reads the fine print on the papers, writes a few things down, gives details on a few cases (he's much more thorough than Tsuzuki would ever be and hopes that Tatsumi won't mind), and initials the bottom of the page. The paper also requires a first name and surname to be included at the bottom, and Hisoka sighs at the specificity that Tatsumi includes in his files.
Surname - Tsuzuki. First name - ...
A second passes. Hisoka frowns.
Another second ticks by.
First name - Asato.
Right, Asato Tsuzuki. His partner's name is Asato Tsuzuki. His partner, his (tentative) boyfriend, his (could-be) lover has a name that is Asato Tsuzuki.
Deciding that Tsuzuki's first name was most assuredly 'Asato,' Hisoka scrawls the name on the bottom of the paper; the name looks messy and unnatural (mostly because the blond's hands are trembling for some odd reason), but the paper is placed onto the finished stack of work, and the pen the young Shinigami had been using to write with is laid aside for a moment.
Hisoka feels cold. Mostly because the room is kept at a relatively cool temperature, but also because he simply couldn't remember Tsuzuki's name. He's never said it, doesn't dare to because no one else did, ever. It was never his place to call Tsuzuki 'Asato.' But now, it might be.
Tsuzuki never says 'Kurosaki.' He's always said 'Hisoka,' or some silly variation of the name - he's always been very upfront and never professional about addressing his partner. But Hisoka has never been so bold as to call his partner by his given name. It would feel wrong, and foreign to the blond's lips, but he probably should.
He tests the name out for a few moments, and allows the name to struggle over his tongue. It should roll, because good names roll, and Asato is certainly not a bad name, but Hisoka can't seem to make the name work as it should. He considers returning to his work and even motivates himself to pick up his pen again; but the majority of the papers ultimately remain untouched and, more importantly, unsigned. Tatsumi won't be pleased, especially because Hisoka is the generally responsible one, and Tsuzuki isn't even here to assume the blame.
"Asato." Definitely not going to work, but Tsuzuki deserves his partner's calling him his actual name. "Asato." It just feels wrong, and Hisoka suddenly becomes hot and almost sweaty and terribly nervous. He shouldn't be nervous about a stupid name, especially not Tsuzuki's.
It would be safe to believe that an overwhelming sense of dread should not accompany this.
Somehow, Hisoka's body did not receive that notification.
After saying 'Asato' another four times, Hisoka gives up, burying his face in his hands. His pen is long-forgotten, as is the remaining portion of Tsuzuki's paperwork (who fully has the competence to finish it on his own), but the blond feels worse now than if he had never started on the sheets of paper in the first place. Hisoka closes his eyes, and he wonders just how deeply upset Tsuzuki would be if his partner and someone a bit more than that were to never call him by his first name.
Probably furious. Tsuzuki would be completely entitled to be furious, and Hisoka would have no right to be in disagreement with that. But Tsuzuki's not the type of person to get mad about that sort of thing - he'd just be quiet and never mention it at all, and Hisoka would feel even worse about that.
Hisoka can't decide whether it's the name that bothers him, or the incredibly personal meaning that calling Tsuzuki by his first name would signify. It's nothing like Hisoka's ever done, something he's normally too afraid of to even consider for longer than a minute at a time. But the name is there, right in front of him, and it's enticing but intimidating all at the same time, and the teen thinks it's too much for him right now, so he tries to close his eyes together even more.
But that hurts his head after seven seconds; he stops and groans in frustration.
The door opens, and Hisoka's head snaps back up, and he hopes that he doesn't look as if he just rode on the most tortuous roller coaster of emotions. Normally, Hisoka prides himself on his calm demeanor; he's level-headed and quick-thinking and slow to anger (most of the time, when Tsuzuki's not concerned), but now he just feels shaky. Tsuzuki is stepping into the room, looking quite pleased with himself, and Hisoka can tell that he's had a very nice day of treats shopping.
The Shinigami smiles as he holds up a bag. "Some of the shops were closed today, so I only went to one. But I got some really delicious treats! Would you like a few?" Normally, Hisoka simply declines with a wave of the hand; but today, Tsuzuki is allowing all his excitement to permeate the room, and Hisoka thinks his stomach is going to rebel any second now. The brunet catches onto this immediately and places the bag down on Hisoka's desk - the plastic crackles a bit at the movement but is otherwise docile, no longer torturing the blond with its too-sweet smells and bright colors.
"Hisoka, are you alright?" Instantly, the older Shinigami is by his partner's side; he dares not touch the blond, for fear that any contact would hurt Hisoka more than benefit him. Hisoka nods, but is no more sure of himself than Tsuzuki looks. "Are you sick?"
This time, a shake of the head. Out of the insane fear that one word might send the blond's breakfast up his throat, Hisoka says nothing. He looks up and sees worried amethyst staring back at him. It's stupid, the teen thinks, that he's made Tsuzuki's good mood disappear in just a matter of seconds; but it's also completely comforting to know that the brunet can sense him so well in such a short amount of time.
"May I feel your forehead?" The request is so timid, so kind, and so strange because no one should need to ask for permission for something as simple as a fever test. Normally, it is 'let me feel your forehead.' But Tsuzuki is so understanding that sudden touches scare Hisoka, and asking for permission is far more effective than force.
And although he is sure that his face is a delightfully tomato-like shade of red, Hisoka nods. Relief hits him as soon as Tsuzuki's hand come into contact with his head; the taller man is very careful to keep his emotions in check, and Hisoka can hardly feel any sort of energy emitting from his partner.
"You're a little warm," Tsuzuki observes, "so you've probably been working yourself too hard lately." Hisoka opens his mouth to protest. "You're sitting at my desk and doing my paperwork, Hisoka." And his mouth closes. Tsuzuki is not scolding the blond - his face is pleasant enough, but his eyes do hold a sense of seriousness that unnerve Hisoka. "I'll go ask Tatsumi if I can take you home early."
"Don't do that." Tsuzuki lifts an eyebrow and leans over Hisoka to grab his trench coat off the back of his chair. Without a word, he turns to leave, and Hisoka reaches out his hand. "Tsuz-"
No, not 'Tsuzuki.' Try something else.
"A-"
But Hisoka's mouth feels dry, and his knees are starting to ache, even though he's not standing. He's worrying himself sick, the young Shinigami rationalizes. He's not actually ill, but his emotions are making him so. Hisoka wants to stand, knows he might be able to stop Tsuzuki if he does, but he's completely incapable of even uttering his partner's name, let alone stop said partner.
One more try; if he can say it this time, Tsuzuki will have to turn around.
"A - Tsuzuki!"
Not even close.
"It looks like it might rain soon; you might want to grab your jacket. I don't want you getting even worse."
Hisoka stands this time, but he's not nearly quick enough to catch his partner; he is fast enough, however, to not notice his foot catch on the edge of Tsuzuki's desk. The blond lurches forward, immediately dreading the feeling of the rough carpet's meeting his face. But he doesn't hit the ground - instead, Tsuzuki is supporting him, and his face is even more displeased than before.
They're both on the ground, their legs a tangled mess, but Tsuzuki's supporting Hisoka so that the blond is held securely against his partner. It's closer than they usually are, but Hisoka can't seem to find the will to mind.
"Are you alright?" This is the second time the older Shinigami has asked this question, and now Hisoka isn't even sure of the answer. He nods slowly, blinking, amazed that he hasn't burned his face against the floor. "Hisoka, please don't work so hard." A smile from the taller man. "I'd like to keep you with me as long as forever."
Forever. Yes, an eternity of calling a potential lover only by his surname was certainly a pathetic forever, Hisoka muses. He swallows and, feeling more self-conscious than ever, looks at Tsuzuki. Honestly looks at him.
Tsuzuki is handsome, for lack of a better word - completely and unnaturally handsome. He's tall and young (but still can hold an aura of maturity if he chose to do so); his hair is shiny, despite the surprisingly low amounts of sleep Tsuzuki racks up in a night. Tsuzuki can switch his style from professional to casual, and he still looks amazing either way, which is almost an unheard of feat. His body is lean but muscular and so impossibly strong for all he's been through. Even Hisoka, chaste Hisoka, can't help but occasionally do a once-over of his partner.
And Tsuzuki's eyes are a whole other story. They're purple, but more than purple - they shine and glisten and convey too many things all at once that they give Hisoka a headache if he stares at them for too long. They're remarkable and intelligent but not lacking kindness.
They're beautiful, and Tsuzuki is stunning. And Hisoka's a child.
"Are you ready to stand?"
The question catches Hisoka off-guard, but he gives a quick bob to his head. Tsuzuki guides the two off the ground, carefully, but there's still an arm gently wrapped around the blond's waist, and there's still a hand that's holding Hisoka's. Logically, Hisoka should be upset that there's an arm around him at all, but Tsuzuki's radiating comfort, and it is actually very nice, so he leans into the touch just slightly.
Tsuzuki glances down, and he's still smiling, which is a good sign. "Please, Hisoka, sit down. I'll go find Tatsumi, and then I'll take you home, and you can have something sweet!" The brunet treats the final statement as if it were some sort of reward and not a punishment for being irresponsible (which Hisoka distinctly believes is the taller man's ulterior motives). Either way, the blond does as told and relaxes into Tsuzuki's chair once more. It feels nice, or maybe he's just tired, and there's still that stupid name to think about.
And Hisoka's shaky again.
A few minutes pass, and Hisoka's trying to shake off his shakiness, but he can't seem to, because he's being irrational. It shouldn't matter so much, that stupid name, but it does - it matters infinitely more than Hisoka can even comprehend, and he doesn't even know why he can't comprehend why it matter so much - it just does.
Before he can torture himself over this, however, Tsuzuki walks back in and offers a thumbs-up.
"Tatsumi said that since you've been working so hard today, he won't mind if you go home early." That, and Tsuzuki probably sweet-talked Tatsumi into letting Hisoka go; it's a known fact that the brunet can pretty much get anything he wants from anyone he talks to simply by batting his eyelashes. "He honestly just wants you to feel better, 'Soka."
Lovely - Hisoka can't muster up the courage to say Tsuzuki's actual name, but the latter is superbly comfortable and quite able to give his parter a nickname. How wonderfully convenient.
Again, the younger Shinigami inclines his head, and he stands without waiting for Tsuzuki's help. It was easy enough - his legs feel secure enough to walk on them (but even if they didn't, Hisoka would never admit it), so he does. He does remember to grab his jacket, as the older Shinigami is correct and the skies are ready to throw out thunder and pour torrents any minute now. As he makes his way to the door, Hisoka can't help but smile inwardly when Tsuzuki nearly stumbles over himself to open the door first.
He's very polite like that.
The two walk in silence, after bidding their farewells to Watari, who kindly offered his giving of a brand new formula for Hisoka to try. It could make the blond feel better (or it could cause his stomach to begin eating itself; as a Shinigami, Hisoka knew his stomach would only heal - but he felt poor enough as it is and really didn't need any extra assistance in the 'losing weight' category). Naturally, the two declined unanimously and quickly made their way outside the office.
The wind is picking up slightly, and Tsuzuki makes a noise of discomfort. "At this rate, we'll never make it back before the rain starts. Say, do you want to teleport there? It'd be easier." The taller man says that mostly because he's too lazy to walk the rest of the way; Hisoka can sympathize with that, and he'd normally agree, but now he feels too foggy-headed to even attempt that.
It seems as if Tsuzuki catches this, because he tilts his head in his endearing sort of way. "I can get us both there in no time, promise!"
Hisoka nods (he's been doing that too much today), and closes his eyes as soon as he feels his partner's hand on his shoulder. The sensation is still nice, and it strangely alleviates the fluctuating headache that Hisoka's developed (at this point, he really is unsure of whether he's uneasy or actually run-down).
The sky seems to flip for a moment, and Hisoka is quite certain that he's going to lose what little food he put into his body today, but he doesn't, and the nausea passes as quickly as it came on. He sees his apartment, that comfortably small building, and fishes his key out of his pocket.
Once the two are inside, having just beaten the weather, the skies break open, and rain pounds and slides off the roof in loud bursts. Hisoka sits down in one of his two chairs located in his sort-of living room and instantly feels more at ease now that he's at his own home. Tsuzuki occupies the next chair, scooting it closer to the blond. For a moment, only because Tsuzuki loosens his tie just slightly and because he glances around the room in an admiring sort of way, Hisoka thinks about kissing him.
Then he remembers that he can't even say Tsuzuki's name properly, and that realization promptly shuts his desire down.
It's very tense for a bit, and the skies are roaring, and Tsuzuki still seems to believe that Hisoka is honestly physically ill and not just overreacting, and Hisoka's initial comfort that his apartment gave him has since faded.
This all makes for a very enjoyable evening, naturally.
Turning to face his partner, Tsuzuki says, "Are you feeling better, worse?" It surprises Hisoka that the brunet still hasn't forgotten why they left work early in the first place; when he honestly tries to be, Tsuzuki's not an airhead.
Hisoka glances up and shrugs. "Fine." That's almost true - his head still hurts, but he's not nauseated, and he only fell at work because Tsuzuki's desk was too big and Hisoka was going too fast. Sure, Hisoka's hands are still trembling, but that's due to the fact that the blond feels uneasy. And it's not Tsuzuki's place to recognize Hisoka's existential crisis; the smaller Shinigami is genuinely touched that his partner noticed he was in distress at all.
Momentarily, Tsuzuki looks as if he's going to respond with something, but he only narrows his eyes in that suspicious sort of way that he does and says nothing. He allows the hush to settle into the room again, maybe out of spite, but probably not.
The silence is slowly killing Hisoka. Perhaps it's because he's already emotionally put-out, and they're both here right now so he might as well get it out of the way (but it was also equally due to the fact that the quiet was strangely deafening, and Tsuzuki's not talking, which is disconcerting), but Hisoka asks, "Does it bother you?"
Tsuzuki doesn't look at his partner. "Rain? Not really. I kind of like it when I'm not in it, if that makes sense. Sometimes, it just tells me that there's something happening outside of my little bubble, and it reminds me that the world is just that big."
For a moment, Hisoka forgets his question, because Tsuzuki's answer is so completely thoughtful; the younger Shinigami mentally decides that he'll re-visit that thought at a later date. But that wasn't the question.
"No, not that. Do I bother you?" The question is phrased completely wrong, because Hisoka knows the answer to that one; but the inquiry is enough to capture Tsuzuki's attention. The brunet's head snaps around so quickly that Hisoka thinks that his partner's neck might break due to velocity alone.
"No, Hisoka. Never. I think you're the single-most fascinating person I've ever met, and I've met a lot of people. You're so smart, and your eyes - I mean, they're green, but they're...well, they're amazing. I could never be 'bothered' by you. You know that, right?" Tsuzuki's face is so guilty-looking, though he's done nothing wrong, but he looks as if he's just committed the greatest crime despite that; and Hisoka feels terrible for even asking such a thing, because he didn't mean that at all.
The blond shakes his head, hoping that helps the brunet feel a bit better. "I mean, do I do certain things that bother you? Generally-speaking."
This time, Tsuzuki thinks over his answer, and Hisoka can't decide if he's glad that work has been put into the response, or if he's worried that Tsuzuki's actually thought about it.
"Sure. I mean, you're kind of picky when it comes to certain things, and you don't like many sweets, which is sort of hard for me to understand. And you slap my hand a lot. You never tell me when something's wrong with you." Now, Tsuzuki gestures to the younger Shinigami next to him."
Worse, definitely worse. Apparently, Tsuzuki was simply waiting for the question to be asked before he could completely unload his complaints.
"And you're stubborn. You're probably the most stubborn guy I've seen - you never listen to me, even if I'm right." Which is not often, Hisoka silently adds.
Although it was his idea, this 'question-and-answer session' did nothing but make the blond feel even worse about himself. Hisoka swallows but looks ahead, away from Tsuzuki; he believes his partner is done speaking, but more dread bubbles inside the Empath once Tsuzuki opens his mouth again.
"But I'm sure I do plenty of things that bother you. I think that's the thing about relationships - we sort of have to complete each other. In different areas. I mean, it's not always fifty-fifty, right? It might be eighty-twenty, or forty-sixty. And I think we're supposed to annoy each other, somehow - I think it's supposed to strengthen bonds; either way, we've been doing a pretty good job of it, huh?" Tsuzuki catches Hisoka's attention and smiles, as usual. "But generally-speaking, no.."
"Don't you worry that eventually something will go wrong?"
"Yeah, I'm worried that I'll ruin this like I do every other thing. But, somehow, you've put up with me so far; and if you don't hate me now, I guess I'm going to have a pretty hard time shaking you, huh." It's obvious that this answer is far from confident; Tsuzuki's emotions are running high and suffocating Hisoka's mind.
But Tsuzuki is right.
"You'll have to screw up pretty badly to get rid of me now, Asato." Breathe. Continue as if nothing happened. "A-after all, we're partners, and we've been through a lot together." The blonde doesn't dare look at the taller man beside him. He can feel Tsuzuki's confusion slithering into every empty corner of the small apartment - confusion and...disbelief?
That's even worse.
"Did you just-" Tsuzuki tries to conceal a laugh but ultimately fails. "Hisoka, you've never called me that. I'm sorry, but it just sounded so weird!" Now, the older Shinigami doesn't even attempt to hide his amusement; the laughter is reverberating off the walls and into Hisoka's ears (the outsides of which are tinted a lovely shade of scarlet).
Still, Hisoka won't look over.
"Where did that come from?" This time, the brunet is asking an honest question. "We've known each other for years, Hisoka, and you've never called me 'Asato.' I honestly thought you didn't even know my name."
"I forgot," came the reluctant mumble.
"Oh?"
"Today, when I was doing your paperwork - I forgot your first name. I felt bad about it, and I guess normal 'couples' always use each other's first names. But I've never called you by yours. So I figured-"
Tsuzuki chuckles once more, and Hisoka straightens his shoulders. "I'm sorry, sorry. You were worried about that? You shouldn't have been - it's just a name. It doesn't matter what you call me, so long as I know that you're talking to me. And, not to be," the brunet lowers his tone slightly, "we're not exactly conventional. You look like you're sixteen, and I look like a pervert. And, even if you are technically an adult, I've still got nearly a century on you. And, you know, we're sort of-"
"Dead?"
A nod of confirmation. Tsuzuki sighs softly then continues, "What I'm trying to say is, I don't want you to change anything you do, even if you do things that bother me. We're partners - we 'magnify the good' and 'mend the bad,' or something. Right? I mean, I just kind of made that up, but it's pretty good."
Hisoka agrees with a small noise. "Sure, but, what about kissing?" He was on a roll; it would be stupid to stop now.
"What about it?" Tsuzuki suddenly looks more nervous, which is almost an improvement from his general lack of concern about first names and the significance behind them.
"First names are personal, and you don't care about those. What about kissing? Relationships do involve that. I know at least that." Although he knew next to nothing about modern relationships, Hisoka was very confident in the fact that lips were, in fact, supposed to touch when two people were in a modern relationship.
And something about tongues, but Hisoka chose not to focus on that just yet.
Tsuzuki takes in a long breath of air before speaking. "Sometimes they do, but I don't want to do anything with you that you're not ready for. If you don't want to use first names, fine. I mean, I'll have a bit of a problem dropping 'Soka-chan'-" Hisoka harrumphs in response, "but I'll manage for you. And if you don't want to hold hands for a while or ever, even - okay. And definitely, if you're not comfortable with kissing or anything past that, then I don't want to. Like I said, I can't ruin this one."
The blond simply stares, green eyes never leaving the brunet's form. Tsuzuki grins and turns to his partner.
"Besides, I don't have to kiss you to tell you how much I love you."
And there's that. The dreaded three words that Hisoka couldn't even focus on for fear of panic - and Tsuzuki said it so plainly and confidently, with that stupid smile plastered on his face as if what he said wasn't the most ground-breaking thing in the world.
Hisoka swallows down something (he hopes it's vomit and not a swelling of reciprocated emotions) and glances at the floor. "How can you say that?"
There's a pause, long enough to make Hisoka's almost-indignant resolve break, leaving him just honestly confused.
"How can you say that? About me? We haven't even-"
"I don't have to, Hisoka. I told you so. After all, you're the one who said that my place was in your heart. And," Tsuzuki falters for a moment, a blush rising to his cheeks, and he begins to murmur, "yours is in mine. So, I know I love you. Yeah."
The blond stares at Tsuzuki, and recognizing the distance between the two chairs, closes the gap and presses his lips against Tsuzuki's. It's awkward at first, mainly because the kiss starts out as a cheek kiss and then slides into one on the lips; but the taller man is quick to reciprocate, and he smiles at the action. Surprisingly, Hisoka's not overcome by an insane amount of emotions or energy, and he finds himself actually enjoying this. Not often, because a good thing too many times spoils its allure, but frequent enough that Hisoka never forgets what it feels like to kiss Tsuzuki.
It's not necessarily 'electric,' like kisses are rumored to be; it's therapeutic.
The two part, and Hisoka's glad that the rain is loud enough to drown out his pounding heart. Aside from that, however, it's strangely quiet, and Hisoka thinks for a moment that he's made everything entirely worse and completely more awkward for both parties.
Eventually, Tsuzuki laughs. "I think I forgot my desserts. Can you believe that, 'Soka-chan? I mean, this whole thing started because I left to go buy sweets, and you were nice enough to do my paperwork." His eyes widen significantly as Hisoka rises from his chair. "But then you couldn't remember my name, so you got nervous...and...sick...but then I took you home, and you're not sick anymore and here we are. Funny...
"Please don't hit me. We just had our first kiss, and it was so wonderful, and I'd really love to have more."
It wasn't because Tsuzuki actually looks somewhat cute cowering in a dingy chair, afraid that his partner (and relationship companion and potential lover) was going to harm him; and it certainly wasn't because said Tsuzuki had spent the last five minutes explaining what it actually meant to really be in love, and he was very right - that wasn't it. But for whatever reason, Tsuzuki was there, and Hisoka was just so obviously in love with the stupid brunet that it was hard to wrap his mind around.
No matter the case, Hisoka still convinces himself to begin cracking his knuckles. "What was it, 'magnify the good'? Alright, I love you for being a genuinely good person and loving me back. There, I said it."
Tsuzuki smiles and looks momentarily less scared; Hisoka forces himself to change that.
"And, 'mend the bad,' I think you said. I think I know where to start."