Chapter Text
You sit cross-legged on the bed and stare at the man stretched out, naked, in front of you. You call him your boyfriend...
Well, sometimes. Because, is he really your boyfriend?
He had just taken a shower--he'd just finished a brutal match at Heavens Arena--and, per usual, didn't bother to get dressed, just sprawled out on the bed with a contented sigh and put his hands behind his head.
He has a half-smile on his face. He always looks as if he is thinking about something either dirty or hysterical. He is constantly dyeing his hair different colors; this week it is blue. Vivid strands of it hang down, dripping wet, in his eyes.
You know he isn't faithful to you, at all. You don't even know what his exact sexual orientation is, for that matter. He's always spending time with that friend of his, the guy with the long black hair. So, you're not sure if you can even call him "boyfriend." In fact, you don't know why you even put up with his shit.
You do know, much to your frustration, that he is easily the most amusing person you've ever met in your life, though. You are never bored with him around. And he's hot.
So you're here at his place. Again.
"Why don't you come over here a little closer," he says, leering at you. "I've got some bruises you can kiss and make better."
You're dressed only in a bra and panties; just because it's kind of weird to be fully clothed around him when he's letting it all hang out.
All right, you're also half dressed because he demanded you strip. This is your compromise.
"I'll kiss you anywhere you want, if you answer me something," you say.
He raises his eyebrows. "Oh? Shoot, then."
"That friend of yours, the guy with the long hair..."
He starts to chuckle rudely. "Yes? Oh my, his ears must be burning!" He claps his hands over his own ears.
"No," you snap. "Seriously, I think you have something going on with him."
"Like what," he says innocently.
"Like you know what," you retort. You're starting to get angry. Damn him, he knows exactly how to get under your skin.
"Oh, like that," he says, knowledgably. When he gets that fake tone to his voice, you know you are in for it.
Before you can stop him, he grabs his phone and hits FaceTime. "Oh, Il-lu-mi!" he singsongs. "Let's ask him ourselves."
Illumi's face pops up on the screen. "Illumi, darling," your boyfriend says. "Would you like to see my cock?" He lowers the phone down past his waist.
Illumi looks unimpressed. "This is a corporate phone I'm on," he says.
Your boyfriend (or, gad, whatever he is) breaks into raucous laughter. "A corporate phone," he hoots. "What, are you worried your grandpa is going to see something? Or that brother of yours, the one with all the cameras hooked up to the screens. Oh, Milluki, baby," he coos. "I know you're watching...you want to suck my--"
"Hisoka," Illumi interrupts. "Do me a favor. Go hop into a cold shower. I'll see you next week." The phone screen goes black.
"Oh, Illumi," your boyfriend says. "Isn't he adorable? All work and no play. A pity...we could have invited him over for a nice little threesome. But no, he just is so dedicated--"
"Hisoka!" you scream. "Enough!" He erupts into yet more laughter.
"Speaking of a cold shower," he says, when he can finally talk again. "That sounds kind of erotic. Too bad I already took one." He snaps his fingers. "I have a better idea though. Thanks, Illumi, for the inspiration, babe," he says to the ceiling, then leaves the room.
He returns shortly with an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne. "I meant to pop this last night," he remarks.
"What's the occasion?" you say, shaking your head. It is damn near impossible to keep pace with him and his whims.
"I don't know. Happy Me Day?" he drawls. "But every day is Me Day. Here, watch out while I do this." He expertly uncorks the champagne and catches all the overflow in the ice bucket, then pours a glass for both of you. As you are sipping yours, he tips his over gently, and the cold liquid hits your stomach.
You jump and squeal. "Why? That stuff is freezing! Drink your champagne and quit wasting it," you bark at him. He takes a gulp, then gives you a dangerous-looking stare.
Oh shit. Before you know what's going on, he has you pinned down by your wrists. You struggle, and he just exerts more pressure. Damn, he's strong. You begin to feel a little panicked. He can snap your neck with a flick of his finger if he wants to. And he just might be crazy enough to.
"Okay," he says in a sweet voice. "Now you're going to show me your pussy, let's have a look at your goodies."
"Huh?" you manage to get out, confused by the lightning-fast change of subject. He swiftly transfers both of your wrists into one hand, using the other to rip your panties off.
"There we go," he says, again sweetly. "Spread your legs, let daddy take a look at your pretty little thing."
"Nothing you haven't seen before," you spit out at him. He instantly forces your legs apart. You might as well be made of tissue paper in terms of his strength vs. yours.
"You've seen it a thousand--" you say, but he puts a finger to your lips and pulls out a piece of ice from the bucket. He begins to rub it all around your cunt. You feel the ice melting and the water running into your folds.
"Too cold?" he asks. With that, he flicks off your bra and, after putting another piece of ice into his mouth, begins sucking your nipples, first right, then left.
The sensation is too much. "Please stop," you beg.
"Ah, you want to be warmed up a little?" He bends his head to your pussy and begins to lick you with long, hard strokes of his tongue. You try to hold back, but you cum almost immediately.
He sits up and takes a sip of champagne. "Hmm. Can't decide which tastes better. This is a pretty expensive bottle," he remarks, offhandedly.
You're panting for breath. That was a strong one. He's not going to give you a break however. Leaning toward your face, he gives you an open-mouthed kiss. As you kiss back, he transfers some ice cubes into your mouth.
"Now, you're going to suck it," he says, and kneels on the bed, forcing your head down to his cock. You oblige, taking him in and letting your tongue and the ice wrap around his shaft.
After a few minutes of this, he says, "It's been a little while. I can't hold back much longer." He lifts you effortlessly into his lap, positioning you perfectly so that he can sink his cock right into you.
You rock back and forth until he starts to moan. "I'm going to cum. On your face," he informs you.
You say no. He doesn't care. You try to push him away. He laughs and pins you down yet again. He unloads all over your face. It's horribly degrading and awful and, dammit, why do you let him do this and why do you like it?
He rolls over and sighs contentedly, just like he did when he first got out of the shower. "Illumi and his little corporate phone," he giggles. "He doesn't know what he was missing."
You stare at him. "So you do have something going on with Illumi?"
He rests his head against the wall and takes another swig of champagne, then winks at you. "You certainly are interested in this Illumi character," he observes.
"No, I'm interested in you--" you blurt out.
He fixes you with a gaze.
"You make me feel...like nobody else makes me feel," you say helplessly, unable to articulate your feelings better.
Hisoka smiles.
"I'm back at Heavens Arena again tomorrow night," he says. "You'll be coming by later? I'll have some boo-boos for you to take care of..."