Disclaimer: Not my characters. The ff comes from me, but that doesn't do me much good.

Author's notes: Like I promised in my LJ (see my profile for a link), an update for Valentine's day. Sorry for the long wait; I hope everyone enjoys the latest installment.

Chapter 4: Deal Makers – Part 1

"What did you dream about?" Tsuzuki demanded. "It was Muraki. What happened?"

"Nothing," Hisoka whispered. He couldn't bring himself to recount the details; it was too awful.

"You screamed for five whole minutes before I could wake you. What was Muraki doing to you?"

Against him, Hisoka's slight body just trembled in his arms, head shaking over and over again. Tsuzuki used his hands to still Hisoka's head, support his body, running reassuring warmth over him.

"What frightened you so much?"

"I'm his … puppet," he managed to say through chattering teeth.

Tsuzuki turned eyes to the boy cradled in his arms. "You're not going to turn into him," he tried to reassure, addressing a notion that had always plagued Hisoka.

"But even when he's in my mind with me or on my skin … it's not enough."

"Wait a minute!" Tsuzuki interjected sharply. "You mean that he can talk to you in your mind, can force you to do things …?" The question lingered.

Hisoka swallowed hard and clamped his lips together.

"What did he force you to do, Hisoka?" he asked again more force behind his question. The pale boy lay limply in Tsuzuki's arms refusing to reply.

"I wish I had your power sometimes," Tsuzuki told him softly.

Startled, green eyes focused on him. "Why?"
"Because it's so hard to get things from you. Because you've closed off a part of yourself."

"You're the same way," Hisoka pointed out dryly.

"But … Muraki isn't plaguing my dreams," he protested. Hesitating, worry showed in amethyst colored eyes.

Somehow with the very fragile Hisoka in his arms, giving off the aura of spun glass, he couldn't ask the question he needed either denied or verified. Has he been raping you in your dreams? Not just your dreams of the past, but even now? Knowing Hisoka's empathetic powers, he was sure the other boy heard all of his questions. When the green eyed boy flinched, he knew he had hit the target.

"Oh, Hisoka," he sighed, pulling, hugging it bruisingly close to him. "I swear I won't let him touch you; I'm the only who's allowed to touch you like that. Ne? Hisoka?"

Hisoka just drew his body closer to himself, knees tucked beneath his chin as if trying to protect his body by making it disappear.

"Is he doing it to get to me? I'll stop him."

"You can't!" Hisoka cried, shaking his head violently. "That's exactly what he wants. And for what? He will never leave me; you know it."

"But if it stops your torment, even lessens it, I'll go."

"Why, Tsuzuki?"

"I have to protect what's precious to me."

"You can't go to him; I won't let you."

Tsuzuki forced that good natured smile on his face. "I'll be okay."

"It's Muraki; you don't believe that."

"Hey," Tsuzuki pointed out. "Let me remind you that my track record against him is much better than yours."

Hisoka snorted. "Better?" he asked dryly. "How? Last time we saw him, you tried to kill him while committing suicide."

"That again," Tsuzuki said with a sigh. "How many times do you have to bring it up? But seriously, I do better in dealing with Muraki. In your first meeting with him, you successfully got yourself raped, cursed, and eventually killed. The next time, you ended up kidnapped. The time after that, you were forced to shoot Princess Tsubaki because of him." He began ticking the events off on his fingers.

Growling with displeasure, Hisoka said, "Even if I asked you not to seek him, you would anyways."

"Of course."

"Then I'll be there to try to stop you."

"Fair enough."

"Tsuzuki," Hisoka whispered feeling a soft sigh escape his lips. "I'd rather lead a life half tortured with you than to live a life without you."

"It's when you say things like that," the other man countered, "that I feel as if I want to protect you more."

What's going to happen now? Hisoka asked his pain-numbed brain.

-----------------------------

Later that day, Tsuzuki had managed to sneak off by himself and was enjoying the fruits of his labor: a slice of cheesecake that he had managed to snag. One thing he was convinced of was that he was not sharing. Licking his lips, he savored the sweet taste and creamy texture on his tongue.

In the middle of his self-declared break, his ringing cell phone interrupted him. A clumsy hand reached into his pocket, and he brought out the phone, pushing the talk button. "Hewwwo," he slurred, smacking his lips.

"Are you eating again?"

He winced. It was Hisoka. "Nooo," he drawled out pitifully.

"You forgot about the meeting with Chief Konoe, didn't you?" Hisoka accused, voice dry and slightly annoyed sounding.

"No, no!" Tsuzuki insisted, even though he had. "I … I just got caught up a bit."

"Hurry here." With that, the green-eyed boy clicked the off button on his cell phone and sat in the meeting room with Chief Kanoe and Tatsumi. Arms crossed, a scowl arose on his pretty features as he silently fumed at Tsuzuki.

The purple eyed shinigami looked at the phone in his hand, the soft humming an indication that his partner had hung up on him in frustration. Biting his lip thoughtfully, his eyes shifted from between his slice of cake and the phone, weighing both options in his head.

Damn, Hisoka's been pretty short with me, ever since … The memory of last night hit Tsuzuki like the stench of rotten meat, suddenly and sickeningly, robbing him of his usually voracious appetite.

Last night had not been fun. It was never pleasant to find out that your lover was being tormented, raped, and tortured in his sleep. Knowing that Muraki was behind it made it all the worse. Since Muraki was the culprit, there had to be a calculated intention for it. That part worried him, ate at his stomach, made him feel so helpless.

Snapping the phone shut, he abandoned his cake with a bittersweet smile stretching his lips. The last thing he wanted to do was further anger his partner, and so he headed back to Juohcho. No sooner had he taken a step, he found his phone ringing again.

A harassed sigh escaped from his lips. Yes, he knew that Hisoka was much more organized, much more responsible than he was, but this was ridiculous. Even his patience ran thin at times.

"What is it, Hisoka?" he said rather shortly into the phone. "I'm already on my way, and I'm abandoning half a slice of perfectly good cake."

"Tsuzuki-san, so you still like your sweets."

The voice that spoke to him wasn't Hisoka's light, almost musical voice. Instead, it was cold, distinct, and detached, sending a shudder through his body. He could place that voice anywhere, and he felt his heart sink, as he responded. "Muraki …"

Author's notes: Comments? (I hope so.) Recommendations for plans of actions? (They'd be appreciated) … Cuz now I have to think like Muraki. I'm no good at that. GYA!