Chapter Text
Hisoka idly taps the pointed toe of his boot and pops his bubblegum as he waits for the pedestrian light to turn green. Normally, he’s more of a jaywalker, but at this time of the evening the swell of traffic is thick and heavy, and Hisoka isn’t really in the mood to get bowled over by some freshman who can’t keep their eyes off their phone while driving.
Eventually the street clears, and Hisoka struts down the lined path towards the Uptown Strip, a popular nightlife scene close to campus that swarms with students most Friday and Saturday nights. Working as a barback at one of the more popular clubs has its downsides, but the cash is useful for covering all expenses a full-ride scholarship doesn’t, and at least at a popular student nightclub, Hisoka is guaranteed to receive one of his favorite things: attention.
Not that he doesn’t get a lot of that already, with the way he normally chooses to dress. He hears a wolf whistle from a passing car and smiles delightedly. Seems like the hot pink crop top and matching hair color was a good choice. His heeled boots clack against the ground satisfyingly with every step he takes.
His walking commute from the dorms to his workplace takes him past the Yorknew University Arena, and the sight of it reminds Hisoka just how close they are to the beginning of the season. His mouth curls up and he runs sharp nails through styled hair. Volleyball conditioning had technically been going on since early June, but the first formal practice is scheduled for tomorrow, and Hisoka is incredibly eager to begin. His competitive streak is a surprise to nobody, and the memories of last year’s loss at semifinals still nag at him like an aggressive dog nipping at the heels of its prey. He snaps his gum again in annoyance. His eyes slide off the arena and forward once again.
Speaking of dogs.
A gigantic black dog, possibly even a wolf hybrid, steps out onto the sidewalk from an apartment building lobby, just a few yards in front of Hisoka. He tenses out of habit, hands flexing inside the pockets of his white harem pants. The dog is closely followed out the door by a man, and Hisoka notes with a bit of relief that the man has the dog on a firm leash. As he slowly draws closer, Hisoka realizes the man is actually quite beautiful; his tight red tunic shows off strong arms, and long black hair gently flutters and dances around his body in the breeze. Hisoka glances up at the building they just came out of and realizes absently it's one of those expensive high rise apartment complexes, the ones for students who have parents with fuck-you money. And who have expensive coke addictions, probably.
Hisoka’s fingers slide idly over the card deck in his pocket and his eyes flicker back down to the man and beast in front of him. The man and beast who, startlingly, are now facing him head-on.
Hold on, doesn’t he look a bit familiar?…
“AH!” Hisoka exclaims, pointing at him in surprise. The man tilts his head, his large black eyes fixed right on Hisoka. “You! You’re number 11! Zoldyck! K.U. team setter!” Hisoka yells, then takes a nervous step back when the dog by the other man’s side lowers his head and growls.
“I usually just go by Illumi, but yes,” the other says, in no way acknowledging the aggressive posturing of his dog. Hisoka’s narrowed yellow eyes never leave it. He’s always maintained a healthy distrust of dogs, especially ones with soul-piercing eyes and glinting fangs.
“Uh, right. Illumi. Why are you here ?” he asks. Illumi tilts his head to the other side.
“I transferred.”
“Oh. Okay.” Hisoka’s eyes are still glued to the dog, whose white teeth are bared in a terrifying snarl. He hasn’t stopped growling lowly the whole time. Hisoka fingers his cards nervously.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me--” he skirts around the two, giving a comically wide berth, and not turning his back until he’s a good five yards past them. Illumi quietly watches his movements the whole time, those lifeless eyes tracking Hisoka unnervingly. It’s highly uncharacteristic of Hisoka to have an interaction with a gorgeous person without throwing in some heavy flirting or at least one sexual innuendo, but fuck him if he’s gonna spend one more second around that vicious guard dog Illumi has tethered at his hip.
As he quickly walks away, Hisoka spares a glance over his shoulder to make sure the dog isn’t running after him. He sees Illumi staring after him, head still tilted, dog sitting obediently at his feet. Hisoka shivers and looks forward again. Weirdo.
-----
“Alright team, please welcome our newest member, Illumi Zoldyck.”
“AH!” Hisoka exclaims, pointing at Illumi in surprise. He’s getting a distinct feeling of deja-vu, and Illumi’s folded arms and raised eyebrow tells him that the feeling is mutual. Unbelievably, Hisoka didn’t connect the dots to realize that Illumi would be joining their university team.
“Some of you might recognize Illumi, he was the primary setter for Kukuroo University,” their coach continues on, blatantly ignoring Hisoka’s outburst. A wave of muttering breaks out amongst the team seated on the scuffed floor of the gym. Uvo is the first to speak up.
“How could we forget after last year?” Uvo says, glaring at Illumi, who examines his nails with a boredom that distinctly reminds Hisoka of an unimpressed cat. Shalnark raises a hand.
“I wasn’t here!” he chirps. He’s the only freshman on the team, which is already small to begin with. Many of their players last year were seniors, gone immediately after graduation, and only Shalnark stood out during freshman tryouts last spring. His wide green eyes dart around his teammates. “What happened last year?”
“Illumi here annoyed the shit out of us, that’s what,” the coach says with a belly laugh. Hisoka is sitting close enough to Uvo to hear his teeth grind. He shares that annoyance, actually.
Hisoka and Uvo are Yorknew University’s most talented blockers, and yet Illumi somehow always found a way to feint his sets and send them scrambling to get to the attacker in time and put up a solid defense. He was good enough that he even scored a handful of points tipping his sets, because his movements were so hard to read. Even Feitan barely reacted in time to keep the ball up when Illumi would dump it on their court. The first time, Hisoka felt a rush of adrenaline and pleasure at being tricked by his opponent. By the fifth time, he wasn’t nearly as amused. Hisoka notices Franklin leaning over to explain all this to Shalnark quietly as their coach proceeds with his little speech.
“Illumi joins us as a junior, and we all know his setting skills. Chrollo and I have already discussed and settled on going with a 5-1 formation this year.” Hisoka smiles at that. It means more time for him on the court as a right side hitter, now that there’s only one setter on the court instead of two.
“We’re aiming to win this year, and that means we need to make tough decisions. One of those decisions… is to put Illumi on our primary starting lineup.” Hisoka sees Illumi’s mouth twitch and it stands out like a beacon on his normally expressionless face.
He also sees Nobunaga practically combust from the corner of his eye, and quickly smothers a snicker in his hand.
“You’ve gotta be FUCKING kidding me, coach!” Nobunaga yells. “You promised me this year I’d be primary setter!”
“That was when we only had one setter, Nobunaga, and frankly there’s no question that Illumi is more talented than you.” Hisoka didn’t manage to stifle his cackle this time. “I’m sorry, but you’ll be backup setter and we might throw you in as a backup right side if Hisoka accidentally concusses himself or gets ejected out of the game like last season,” coach says, sending a glare towards Hisoka, who pointedly avoids eye contact with an innocent look on his face.
“This is bullshit,” Nobunaga grinds his teeth and shares a grave look with Uvo, who seems to be in complete agreement.
Chrollo, ever the peacemaker, smiles at Illumi. “Welcome to the team,” he says gently. “We’re really glad to have you. I hope you help us reach the championships.” Illumi nods, the first real reaction he’s had since the coach introduced him.
“Welcome to the team!” Shalnark says brightly. Hisoka surveys the rest of his seated teammates as their coach moves on to the agenda for the day. Feitan, Franklin, and Phinks look like they literally do not give a shit about the lineup announcement, sitting off to the side of the group with varied expressions of indifference. Shalnark and Chrollo have been the most welcoming so far, no surprise there. It seems that he, Nobunaga, and Uvo are the most disgruntled by Illumi’s presence.
Not that any of the antagonism has gotten to Illumi at all. He looks as impassive as ever, standing tall with arms crossed loosely over his chest, and Hisoka can’t help but rove his eyes over the man’s pale white thighs and arms. He notices that Illumi wears tall black socks tucked into his knee pads, and tape on his pointer and middle fingers. His hair is tied up into a high ponytail, but the ends still brush the middle of his back. God, he’s just as devastatingly attractive as when he was on the opposite side of the net.
The main problem for Hisoka, though, is his intense desire for competition. With Illumi now on the same side of the net, it weakened his opponents considerably. Illumi made Kukuroo University’s team dangerous, and Hisoka eagerly awaited their matches each year because he knew it would be a challenge to block Illumi’s perfect sets and feints. That challenge excited him immeasurably. Now that Illumi is on his team, what’s there to look forward to?
Head buzzing with annoyance, Hisoka stands with the rest of the team and follows along as Chrollo leads them through preliminary stretches.
Both practice nets are set up on the arena floor, so Chrollo divides the team members in order to run two defensive drills, which the team desperately needs. Their lineup heavily favors offensive plays. Shalnark and Phinks are both lacking defensive skills, and defense is going to be critical if they’re going to run a 5-1 formation with Illumi as the only setter. When he rotates to the back row, the other two back row players have to work twice as hard to accomodate for Illumi shifting to the setter’s position by the net each rally.
Additionally, both their middle blockers, Uvo and Franklin, have to suffer through one rotation of serving and defense before they can sub out for Chrollo and Feitan, the team’s main defensive players. Both are even worse at defense than Shalnark and Phinks.
Consequently, during practice today, Chrollo and Feitan decide to focus on serve receives with Uvo and Franklin on one court, while their coach uses the other court to run Illumi and Hisoka through attack patterns that Phinks, Shalnark, and Nobunaga defend.
Nobunaga glares daggers at a giggling Hisoka as coach explains the drill ( “Hisoka is the only hitter with decent defense, so the rest of you will be practicing by reading his and Illumi’s attacks” ). For all Hisoka’s annoying mannerisms and goading, nobody could deny that he was the most well-rounded player on the team.
Hisoka laces his fingers together and stretches his arms over his head leisurely. He adjusts the pink bands on his wrists; his joints are surprisingly thin and dainty, so he finds the added support helpful. He can feel Illumi’s gaze on him, unwavering, and smiles wider.
“I prefer it low and a bit off the net, doll,” Hisoka purrs as he walks by Illumi to his position on the right side of the court. “Think you can manage that for me?”
Disappointingly, Illumi doesn’t react to his taunting, and just nods once before shifting his stance to distribute his weight evenly on the balls of his feet. He rolls his wrists and looks left at their coach, who gathers the first ball from the cart and raises it up once to signal the beginning of the drill. Hisoka licks his top lip in anticipation, and sees from the corner of his eyes the players on the other side of the net shifting warily. He can’t blame them. Everyone here has witnessed his scarily powerful spikes.
The ball is tossed to Illumi, and Hisoka moves at the same time. Illumi stretches his hands up elegantly and jumps into the set, stretching his back beautifully to send the ball backwards to Hisoka. Hisoka’s eyes widen at the perfect arc of the ball, blood thrumming in his veins as he times his jump perfectly and swings his right arm with wicked speed. His hand connects, and he drives the ball right straight down the line, to the left of Phinks. The blond man curses and lurches, and to his credit, makes contact with the ball. Unfortunately, the speed of the ball causes it to glance off his forearms and fly away into the stands. Hisoka lands with an almost feline grace, yellow eyes glinting in the same fashion, then turns to consider Illumi. It took about three solid weeks of yelling at Nobunaga last year before Hisoka could get a halfway-decent set like that. Oh, this should be interesting.
“How was that?” Illumi asks in a toneless voice, and Hisoka gets the distinct impression that Illumi already knows how utterly perfect that set was. It’s impossible that he doesn’t. Hisoka rolls his shoulder and turns to saunter back to the front line.
“That was just divine, Illumi, please give it to me like that again,” Hisoka purrs, and to his delight, Illumi’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit at Hisoka’s lascivious word choice before turning to look at their coach once more, expectantly.
The two run through several more attack patterns for the next few minutes. The poor defenders are put through the wringer, though somehow Shalnark is still smiling even after Hisoka aims a ball directly at his head, which he just barely managed to deflect with raised palms. Hisoka sees Illumi staring at him once more, and he shivers as he looks into those expressionless eyes. A ball flies past them, a botched serve receive from Chrollo on the other court, but neither of the two men break eye contact.
“You have astonishing ball control,” Illumi says, finally breaking the tension of the moment. Hisoka blinks in surprise.
“Why thank you, dear Illumi,” he responds and settles a hand on his hip, tapping his lips with a perfectly manicured nail. His coach had decided to concede that fight long ago, since the sharp nails inexplicably didn’t hinder Hisoka’s playing ability. “Your sets are so delightfully precise that it opens up so many options for me. I’ve never quite had this opportunity before.” Illumi’s mouth quirks up as he hears a noise of outrage from Nobunaga on the other side of the court, and Hisoka’s heart quickens at the sight.
Their coach decides to give the defense a break and calls them over to run fast-paced hitting drills. Phinks and Shalnark settle in their customary left side position and Hisoka is directed to run a single-man block from the right side. It’s familiar territory to be blocking on the opposite side of the net from Illumi, but no less frustrating to try and read where he’ll send the ball next.
After having experienced Illumi’s sets first-hand, Hisoka can’t help but watch in awe at the perfect ball control as Illumi sets the ball right into the left pocket of the court. Hisoka shifts into position and times his jump to Phinks’s swing, which comes in almost too late. The ball is hit perfectly into Hisoka’s outstretched hands and slams into the ground at Phinks’s feet.
“Phinks!” their coach yells in frustration. “You can’t take that much time on wind up, Illumi’s sets are fast-paced for good reason and you need to take advantage of it to get past the block!” Phinks frowns as he turns to look off the court.
“But coach, my wind up is what makes my hits so powerful,” he complains. Hisoka rolls his eyes. “What a waste of a perfect opportunity,” he thinks to himself.
“If you can’t handle my sets, I’m happy to send them a little higher to accommodate your slow speed,” Illumi says to Phinks with a blank face, and Hisoka smothers a laugh in his palm as Phinks turns a funny shade of red. The blond man scowls at Illumi, who seems to be an expert at ignoring frosty looks, given that Nobunaga has been glaring daggers at him for the entire practice and Illumi hasn’t given any indication that he’s noticed whatsoever. Hisoka’s amusement is slowly but surely overpowering his initial annoyance.
After finishing up their drills, Chrollo insists on a few scrimmage 4v4 rounds before ending practice for the day. Naturally, Hisoka insists on being paired with Illumi’s side. He’s never felt more in sync with a setter in his life, to his ever-growing delight.
As Uvo walks to the back of the court to serve to Hisoka’s side, Hisoka turns to watch their defense. Chrollo is cool and collected as usual, crouched low with his back perfectly straight and arms open in an easy receiving stance. Shalnark is in the back row once again as well, and it's easy to pin him as an inexperienced freshman when he’s positioned next to the team’s defensive specialist.
Uvo is surprisingly able to capitalize on this weakness in their defense, despite his atrocious ball control, and he sends a jump serve directly to Shalnark with bullet-like speed. However, in a stroke of luck, Shalnark shifts to the side and braces against the ball’s impact, sending it up in an almost-perfect arc that’s just a foot or two shy of Illumi’s setting position. Hisoka hears Uvo’s tsk of annoyance and coach’s yell, “get the fuck up to the net to block!” . It’s good advice; they’ll need at least a two-man block to have any hope of defending against Hisoka.
For a brief second, Hisoka and Illumi share a glance before Illumi slides into position. Somehow they both know exactly which play to make. Hisoka feels like electricity is racing between the two of them. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before on the court, and he shivers lightly with excitement. He takes off a second before the ball falls into Illumi’s waiting hands, and jumps sideways to the extreme right of the court, almost past the net’s antennae. Illumi sends the ball straight into Hisoka’s hand mid-swing, the ball traveling in practically a straight line from setter to hitter.
Hisoka’s arm is a blur as he hits the ball directly between Uvo and Nobunaga’s outstretched arms, and watches in vicious delight as the ball smashes into the middle of the court, just shy of Feitan’s outstretched arms as the libero dives forward.
Hisoka can’t help himself, he lets out a loud whoop of excitement and pumps his fists in the air, then turns to Illumi and raises his hands up with both palms outstretched for a high five. His face is twisted up in child-like excitement, and Illumi looks at him dubiously before slowly raising his arms up as well. Hisoka slaps the shit out of them and is delighted to see Illumi subtly shaking his hands out as Hisoka turns to give a thumbs up to Shalnark for the freshman’s impressive pass.
Coach insists on running cool down stretches about fifteen minutes later, and Hisoka’s eyes are glued to the backs of Illumi’s pale thighs during the whole process. Chrollo thinks he’s being subtle, but Hisoka can tell their captain is doing the same thing. He doesn’t blame him. Illumi’s tall, thin frame is the kind you’d find on runways in Milan. Beautiful, but just shy of being awkward and coltish. He watches as Illumi grabs his foot to stretch his quad, wavering ever so slightly before regaining perfect balance.
After stretches, Hisoka immediately slides over to the bottom row of stands and lays down leisurely as the rest of the team begins to tear down the courts and shag stray balls. He can feel the sweat on his brow and under his muscle shirt, cooling rapidly on his skin and turning it sticky like melted taffy.
He lifts his shirt up to wipe at his forehead, and when he drops his hand back down his vision clears to see Illumi hovering over him. He hadn’t made a noise; at first Illumi wasn’t there, and then he was. Hisoka didn’t flinch, but it was a near thing.
“Why hello, Illumi~ Like what you see?” he waggles his eyebrows and trails a hand down his exposed abdomen. Illumi stares at Hisoka for a few seconds with a look of genuine confusion before responding.
“I don’t know what you mean. I came over to ask you a question,” Illumi says. Strands of his hair, now out of the ponytail, spill over his shoulders and almost fall far enough to brush over Hisoka’s chest.
“I’m all ears,” Hisoka responds with a smile. His canines glint under the arena lights.
“I’d like to request that you meet me at the university gym courts on Fridays for additional practice.” Illumi doesn’t react to Hisoka’s raised brow. “You seem to be the only hitter on this team that understands how to effectively utilize my sets, and I’d like to work with you individually to… hone our relationship.” His mouth twists, as if unhappy with the wording he settled on.
Hisoka preens.
“Oh, dear Illumi, flattery will get you everywhere ,” he responds with a widened smile. “I’d love to work on our relationship, to use your phrasing. Why don’t you pass me your phone?” Illumi’s large black eyes narrow slightly in suspicion.
“Why?” Hisoka rolls his yellow eyes in return.
“To watch porn, Illumi. What do you think?”
“Can’t you use your own phone for that?”
“Darling. I’m kidding. I was just going to add my number to your contacts,” Hisoka sighs dramatically.
“Oh, okay. Here,” Illumi says, fishing his phone out of the side pocket of his duffel bag and sliding it into Hisoka’s outstretched palm. Hisoka’s eyes flick up to make eye contact with Illumi.
“Though, if you do want some porn recommendations--”
Illumi snatches his phone out of Hisoka’s hand and immediately turns to leave the gym, his pace quickening as Hisoka’s laughs echo around the arena.
“Ah, well. Another time…” Hisoka thinks to himself. He stands and smoothly dodges a ball lopped at his head by Uvo as the other man yells at him to help with cleanup, then throws up a peace sign and quickly leaves the gym as well.
-----
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Illumi’s last class of the day is an elective for his Biology degree. Nutrition and Metabolism is taught at 4:30pm by a young, professional-looking woman with hair pulled back into a tight brown ponytail. Her heels clack loudly around the room as she paces during her lecture, despite the massive size of the hall.
This Tuesday, it’s impossible to miss the shock of bubblegum pink hair that slides in through the doors at the front of the room, 15 minutes into the professor’s lecture. Illumi watches on with mild interest as she pauses her speech for just long enough to shoot an unamused look at Hisoka, who is smiling fakely and gesturing in a vaguely apologetic way before making his way up the staircase of the hall.
It’s already the second week of the semester, and Illumi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Hisoka didn’t attend the first few lectures. He didn’t strike Illumi as the studious type.
Unfortunately for Illumi, Hisoka immediately perks up as he spots where the black-haired man is seated at the back corner of the hall, and makes a beeline for him. Illumi’s dark eyes track Hisoka as he walks by, and he can smell a waft of something sugary that permeates the air in his wake.
Illumi has always thought that Hisoka had such an intriguing look. Not just his peculiar sense of style (today he has on heeled boots, a black turtleneck cropped shirt, and light pink fitted cargo pants), but the incredibly thin span of his waist contrasted with the bulk of his defined muscles always tended to draw Illumi’s eye involuntarily during volleyball matches against Y.U. He tilts his head to follow Hisoka when, curiously, he passes Illumi’s row and takes a seat almost directly behind him. Illumi tries not to be perturbed by this and looks forward once again to the front of the lecture hall.
After a few moments, a rustling noise draws his attention back behind him, and he glances over his shoulder past his curtain of black hair to see that Hisoka, for some reason, has produced a deck of cards out of thin air and is shuffling them with a glint in his eye. He makes eye contact with Illumi and grins before doing a fancy movement with his hands that makes the deck disappear. He splays his fingers out in a “ta-da!” pose, but Illumi’s face is unchanging as he turns back around to the front of the hall.
“Tough crowd,” Hisoka mutters, so quietly that Illumi almost doesn’t hear it. He feels his cheek twitch, mouth curling up ever so slightly.
Throughout the lecture, he can almost physically feel the piercing stare leveled at the back of his head, and he hears the annoying snap of gum. He absently notices the clacking of manicured nails against a keyboard as well, more loudly pronounced than what was strictly necessary. No matter. Illumi continues to write his notes, diligently typing away on his sleek new laptop.
When he stops typing, the distracting clacking noise from behind him goes away.
When he writes a new note, the sound returns. Illumi’s eye twitches.
Stop copying my notes, Hisoka. This is plagiarism. He types into his page.
Illumi hears Hisoka snickering behind him, confirming his theory. He sighs quietly in exasperation and tucks unruly strands of hair behind his ear. Thankfully after that, he doesn’t notice Hisoka blatantly copying off his work any further. In fact, he doesn’t hear any more typing at all.
As soon as their professor wraps up the lecture, Illumi begins to put away his things, but is interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turns around halfway in his seat to see Hisoka’s expectant face.
“Illumi, dearest, do you think you could tutor me?” Hisoka asks in a playful lilt. Illumi’s face remains unchanging. “You see, I don’t care too terribly about all of this, but I do need to keep up my grades to retain my volleyball scholarship, I’m sure you understand. And I’m just so unbelievably busy nowadays, what with practice starting up again and all the social events I’m expected to attend. I’m quite popular around here, in case you couldn’t already tell.” Hisoka punctuates this sentence with a wink that causes Illumi to raise a single thin brow.
“You don’t say,” he says, voice flat.
“Indeed!” Hisoka laughs lightly. “Regardless, I simply don’t have the time or motivation to really care about coursework. You seem like a good, diligent student, however. So how about it?”
“No. I do not want to tutor you.”
Hisoka pouts, bottom lip pushed out enough for Illumi to see the pink flesh of his mouth. He watches as Hisoka shifts and begins to examine his sharp nails with carefully feigned disinterest.
“You know, dear Illumi, you sort of owe me. I already agreed to go out of my way and block time off in my incredibly busy schedule to practice with you one-on-one,” Hisoka laments. Illumi’s lips flatten. They engage in a staring contest for the next fifteen seconds.
“...Alright.” Illumi finally caves, glancing away, and Hisoka claps his hands together in delight. The movement draws Illumi’s attention back to Hisoka’s hands.
“Hisoka,” he says suddenly, and yellow eyes fixate on him with a startling intensity. “Why do you have two nails that are shorter than all the others?”
Hisoka, for some reason, finds this question hilarious.
“Perhaps one day I’ll show you, darling,” he responds, and Illumi watches as he opens his mouth and slowly drags his tongue up the side of his index finger. Illumi shrugs and stands, shouldering the laptop bag primly.
“If you’d like to, then sure,” he says with disinterest before turning to walk out of the aisle. He throws up a hand, waving behind without turning. “I have an appointment, so I’ll see you around.”
Just before he exits the hall, he sees Hisoka, still in his seat, pouting with arms crossed over his chest and heeled boots propped up out to the side on the table. The lights of the hall glint over his four inch heel. Illumi walks out of the double doors, mind flickering over thoughts of cards, sharp nails, and the color pink.