Beyond the Grave [ILLUMI X CHROLLO]

[6] Don't Threaten Pookie With A Good Time

Gon fiddled with all of the appliances, faucets, devices, until he found something broken: the dryer. After taking the drum apart and identifying the culprit, Gon left to the hardware store to fetch a new part. When he returned, two hours had passed since Not Killua left for campus.

Shirtless and sweaty, Gon set to work putting the dryer back together when, in the crash! of the lid slamming into place, his ruckus covered the opening of the patio door.

It was quiet enough for Gon to hear the sturdy shut, though.

He straightened, slightly out of breath. He'd taken his watch off in the fight with the drum, but surely it hadn't taken him more than twenty minutes to put it all back together?

"Hello?" he called out to no answer.

There was a cadence of slow, steady footsteps tapping down the hall. Gon brushed his hands clean on a towel and tossed it over the tool bag he'd dug out of the closet. And, on the chance he was dealing with a robber, Gon grabbed the hammer.

As he stepped into the hall, he first saw the shadow cast by the newcomer, and then the prickle in the air that should have sent Gon fleeing for the hills.

He recognized this agitated edge on his skin and how it threatened to claw his muscles raw. His grip on the hammer tightened in the wake of unholy evil waiting for him at the end of the hall, just on the cusp of the kitchen.

"My, my," Hisoka said, a hand raising to his hip. "Look what I have here, Abaddon's little pool boy."

"Why are you here," Gon said through gritted teeth. It was a wonder his jaw could move—his teeth were clenched so tight they creaked.

"Why, I live here."

"No you don't."

"I do."

"This is the Zoldycks house!"

Hisoka tsked, and the sound sent Gon flinching. The demon's eyes tightened with suspicion. "Why are you here?"

Gon sucked in a sharp breath. They'd done this dance before, and though Gon had lost his loyalty to the demon, he hadn't lost his inclination to comply. His back went cold against the trickle of sweat dripping down his spine.

Hisoka took a step closer.

Gon jerked back hard enough for him to shoulder-check the laundry room's pocket door. It rattled in its casing as Hisoka encroached.

"You can answer me now, no harm," the demon all but purred. He reclined a hand against the wall, mere steps from where Gon shrunk. "Chrollo forbid me from claiming your soul again. Consequence of the trial, I suppose."

Gon was skeptical. "Really? This isn't a trick?"

"For me to lie about Chrollo's wishes—for shame."

"You claimed my soul knowing he wouldn't like it."

Hisoka grinned, canines and all. "You've caught me."

And then, Hisoka's eyes trailed lower. Exposed, Gon yelped, hands slapping over his chest. He yanked his shirt out from under the tool box, setting screwdrivers and nails scattering in a flurry.

"Don't mind me," Hisoka said, passing Gon by with a casual swagger that made Gon want to kick him in back of the knees.

"I do mind! Very much!"

When Gon was certain Hisoka was out of sight, he returned to cleaning up his mess and stowing the tools away back where he'd found them. Still feeling disgusting from fixing the dryer, Gon scoured the house so he could know where, exactly, Hisoka was while he took a quick shower.