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Hisoka was dead.
He hadn’t had a funeral because he didn’t want one, but Illumi did have a stone added for him in the family gravesite, because it seemed appropriate. Hisoka had been his husband for twenty-two years; longer, if you count the two years they danced around the official title. And while his father and grandfather had never approved, not really, it had been Illumi’s reality for a very long time. His gravestone was placed as far from Kikyo’s as Illumi could manage.
The headstone was placed one afternoon when it was cold and overcast. Illumi had done it without affair, leaving Hisoka's name permanently among his family, before he boarded the ferry that would take him back to Hokdokai, in Japan. The Zoldyck family grave was located on a small island in the icy waters that bordered Ruzzia; perfectly centered between the two. The chilled sting of water burned Illumi’s eyes but he stayed above deck for the take off. He enjoyed watching the horizon disappear into mist, as much as he could enjoy anything. Glove covered hands held the railings. Windswept hair whipped behind him like a sail. After some time, he felt nothing in the cold.
“Sir. Sir? May I check your ticket, please?” a young woman -- an attendant -- asked, hand extended. She approached from the side, steps uncertain on the slick upper deck flooring. Her small round hat was checkered and Illumi knew it would go flying off with the wind if she stayed out like this.
He stared at her, blankly.
She stared back, eyes widening. “Sir?”
“Yes. Please wait.” He kneeled beside his bag, rummaged for a moment, and presented her with the ticket he’d purchased online weeks ago -- maybe six hours after Hisoka’s death.
The necessary steps after Hisoka died had been executed one after another: inform relatives, inform banking and corporate entities to close accounts, contact crematoriums for rates and times of availability, contact headstone vendors for the same, and then purchase plane and ferry tickets. He’d gotten it all done in less than a day, which left him enough time to murder a senator in Acirema before finally returning home to Yorkshin.
Illumi was nothing if not efficient. The longest task had been the calls to family. His father and grandfather had been one thing; his siblings were another. And the call to Kalluto had quickly dissolved into a call with Gon instead, who was unfortunately present, and he wanted answers that Kalluto had been tactful enough to set aside. Gon was cruel in his candidness, Illumi had always thought. Frankly, an annoyance.
“Are you sure?” Gon asked, voice crackling in the receiver. "Are you sure he's -- gone?"
Illumi said slowly, patience thin but present, having grown over years of dealing with his brother’s closest friend, “I am most sure, Gon.”
“But --”
“He died in my hands,” Illumi explained. “Would you like details?”
There was a great silence on the other end of the phone. Gently, Gon said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Illumi ended the call.
“Thank you, sir. Are you sure you’re alright out here?” the attendant aboard the ferry asked. “It’ll be several hours before we’re docked on land again. It's so cold.”
“I am fine,” Illumi said, turning back towards the ocean.
“Okay.”
She left in a series of clumsy footsteps and Illumi was alone again. He watched the mist, gripped the railing, and the leather of his gloves creaked beneath him. And his ring finger pulsed -- a reminder. “Oh.”
He’d almost forgotten. Illumi removed his gloves and lifted his hands up, into the chilled air. A simple silver band glinted in the washed-out light of the evening.
His wedding band.
Head tilted, Illumi reached out with his other hand and pulled it off. He didn’t need it anymore. And so he dropped it into the water below. It spun a half dozen times before hitting the waves with a solid plop. He watched it sink.
How cold, Illu, Hisoka said, and he pressed a kiss to the back of Illumi’s neck. You’ve worn it for years.
Illumi jerked back, pushing away from the railing, and spun around. There was nothing there. Eyes wide, he stared forward. Carefully, he lowered his shoulders.
It’ll rot to nothing in the sea, Hisoka said, voice a whisper in Illumi’s ear. Illumi turned back around, towards the ocean, and placed his hands on the railing again. You don’t want me with you any longer, love?
Illumi pressed his hands to his ears, but they muffled no sound.
I’d love you anyway, Illumi.
He was ripping out of his coat before he even realized what he was doing. He kicked his shoes away and by the time he was diving into the water, there were piercing screams coming from the door below deck.
“He’s -- he’s jumped!”
-----
The icy water burned like fire and Illumi remembered the last time they’d had sex.
“So gray,” Hisoka said, hands cording through Illumi’s hair from where Illumi stood above him. “Your face hasn’t aged a day. You could look the same as you did at twenty-five, you know. I could color your hair. So easily.”
“I like the gray,” Illumi said. He didn’t bother to explain further, eyes sliding shut beneath Hisoka’s gentle pets.
“Yes, I know. It’s so close to white.”
“Mm,” Illumi agreed. He sank down on his knees, until he was straddling Hisoka where he sat. Illumi pushed back the tubing that ran down Hisoka’s arm, and slid his arms around his neck, settled in close.
Hisoka’s thin, wiry hands slid down Illumi’s back, until they reached his ass. Illumi pushed away, to look him in the eyes. Sharp and gold and smiling. Beneath the pallor of his skin, he radiated gold always. Illumi kissed him eagerly and Hisoka kissed back, pausing only to smile from time to time. Illumi ground down, lining their crotches together. Their tongues met until they were panting and coated in sweat, and then Illumi freed Hisoka’s cock, pulling it out the waistband of his soft pants, and pulled his own pants off entirely.
Gasping, he slid onto Hisoka’s dick, and was met with a short, hard thrust that made him shake. “Hisoka --” Illumi breathed out. He slid his hands along the square lines of Hisoka’s jaw, and leaned in, and kissed him again. Hisoka swiped his tongue along the seam of Illumi’s mouth and gripped his thighs.
He fucked up into Illumi with short, hard thrusts until Illumi was muffling moans into Hisoka’s neck, voice wordlessly begging.
“I love you, Illu,” Hisoka said, hand reaching between them both to grip Illumi’s cock. He squeezed, hard, and Illumi fucked up into his hand. Hisoka’s thrusts slowed, until he was grinding in circles, and Illumi groaned. Wanting more, to get fucked harder, he shifted his own hips up and down and up again, until he was bouncing on Hisoka’s dick. “Look at you go,” Hisoka said, voice dripping with tease, and he looked down to see Illumi work. “Are you going to come this way?”
He was. He gasped, bouncing faster -- until -- he came with a gasp, stripes of cum lining his and Hisoka’s torso. He didn’t stop, though, even as blood rushed into his ears. “Hisoka,” he begged, “Come in me.”
“Whatever you’d want, sweet Illu,” he whispered, voice hoarse, and he kissed Illumi again when he came.
It was uncomfortably warm in the room and they were sticky and it was so risky to fuck like they had, nearly out in the open, but Illumi didn’t want to move. “I love having you in me,” Illumi whispered.
“I love you too,” Hisoka replied, voice a sing-song.
After minutes tangled together, hearts beating together, chests falling and rising, Illumi finally stood up. He dressed carefully, and righted everything in the room. His fingers traced the roses in the window briefly, savoring the soft touch of the petals. When he turned around, Hisoka was asleep in the bed.
In the ocean, Illumi pushed hard against the startingly cold waves, arms and legs pumping forward. Deeper.
You didn’t want to leave it here? Hisoka asked. It's probably gone, love.
His lungs burned and he could see nothing; just a haze of gray. The ocean was a mash of bubbles and ice and blur. He reached out. The ring -- he’d never find the ring; everything was silver beneath the waves. The ocean wasn’t blue or green here; just shades of colorless gray.
Sweet Illumi. You'll die like this. Would you die for me?
And then he saw it. A glint, a bright glint before his eyes. The ring was there -- swirling in a current. Illumi reached out -- and a force shoved him back, violently. His lungs seized in panic. No -- no -- no, it was so close --
You’d die for me?
He couldn't reach and a swirl of power kept him trapped moving up to the surface. He was ripped from the water with extraordinary power, despite his kicking, despite his every desperate move to return down -- please -- he'd been so close.
A woman gasped as Illumi landed on the deck of the ferry. “I got him,” she said, and she dropped her hands, which were emitting extraordinary power -- a hatsu that could pull a grown and fighting man from the sea. “I got him,” she said more loudly. The attendant from before and another man, wearing a thick wool coat, rushed over.
You’d die for me, Illu?
He coughed a lungful of water, eyes burning, body numb, limbs trembling. “Sir, stay still. Sir!” the attendant shouted, pressing her warm-hot hands to his cheeks. She looked up, the wind whipping her hair from her face. “Get medical!” She looked down at him again, her eyes wide, glassy -- filled with tears. “Please. It’s alright. Just stay with me. What happened? Did you jump? Sir?”
You'd die for me?
He was shaking so hard that the attendant could barely keep her grasp on his face, thumbs stroking away the ocean water. His mouth opened and closed -- he couldn't form the words.
Would you, Illu?
"My husband died,” Illumi said, finally, gasping for air. He pulled away from her, turning over on the deck, as an agony he had never experienced laced through him physically, from head to toe. He sobbed. “My husband is dead.”
You’d die for me, Illumi?
No, Illumi thought. I cannot die, Hisoka. Without you, I am not alive.
He felt the attendant's slender hand pat his shoulder, holding him gently as he cried.