Work Text:
Illumi leaned back in Hisoka’s bed, his spent love wand drooping slowly onto his legs. He lit the proverbial post-coital cigarette, but didn’t smoke it. He just held it while it dropped flaming ashes onto his nude torso.
“Oh, Illumi,” sighed Hisoka. Illumi’s sticky white juice leaked out of his gaping cootch. “You never cease to amaze me.”
Nut ran in a little river down Hisoka’s bootycrack, soaking into his 10,000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. He rolled over towards Illumi and leaned onto his shoulder. Illumi recoiled in disgust.
“Don’t get sentimental.”
Hisoka didn’t move. Illumi put him in an armbar.
“I will break your arm.”
“I love it when you talk dirty.”
Illumi stood up and walked away, throwing on one of Hisoka’s mink bathrobes before gliding into the distance. Literally gliding. Not in a symbolic way that meant he was being super graceful or anything, he was just wearing Heelys. Hisoka watched him go before drifting off to sleep, eyes still open, staring blankly at the door.
When he awoke, he showered and rinsed the congealed jizz out of his ripe pink bussy. He stared at himself intently in the mirror, making sure he was still a paragon of beauty. He was. Of course. Except - Hisoka noticed his perfect abs were beginning to bulge. This distressed him, because he’d always kept a very close eye on his figure in case of surprise fanservice shower shots. He blamed it on yesterday’s dinner, did some crunches, and returned to his usual daily activities.
Over the next two days, Hisoka’s abdomen had swollen so much that he could no longer ignore it. He checked his symptoms on WebMD, which told him he was either obese, suffering from a rare skin disease, or pregnant. He assumed the latter was true, given his balanced diet and lack of exposure to tropical insects. He speed-dialed Illumi.
“What do you want?” Illumi demanded.
“I’m pregnant,” Hisoka gushed, eyes misting over.
“Okay. Have fun with that.”
“Illumi. You can’t be a deadbeat dad. I won’t be able to teach it how to fight all by myself.”
“No, I mean - whatever. Call me in three weeks,” replied Illumi, hanging up before Hisoka had a chance to respond. Hisoka sighed. He stroked his baby bump tenderly. The half-sphere of infant was framed with taut, defined muscle that he’d still managed to keep intact. It poked out of the bottom of his crop top like a sad little fanny pack made of skin. Hisoka wasn’t one for maternity wear. He kept living his life exactly as he had before, disregarding prenatal vitamins and all that other mom shit. His fetus needed to be strong enough to fend for itself.
Once the three weeks had passed, Hisoka’s stomach was now the size of a beach ball, and felt sort of like the inside of a bean bag. It vibrated a little. He dialed up Illumi again.
“It’s time.”
“Okay. I’ll be over in a few,” Illumi said immediately.
In a few seconds, Illumi had appeared at Hisoka’s door wearing a hazmat suit and carrying a giant net.
“Dude, what the fuck,” stated Hisoka.
“Shut up and let me in,” Illumi said. He stood in front of Hisoka in a tense fighting stance. “Get ready.”
“Ready for wh - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA,” bellowed Hisoka. Chode-sized cockroaches had begun to pour out of his snatch by the thousands. Wave after wave of red-brown beetles rushed towards Illumi, zooming faster than the speed of sound. Some of the babies were too impatient to wait, so they chewed through the muscles around his abdomen and back, shooting through self-made holes in his skin. The bugs skittered throughout his organs, searching desperately for an exit. They spread their wings and fluttered into the distance.
Illumi tried his best to catch the roaches with the net, but a few managed to escape. Hisoka flopped on the floor like a dying mackerel. His groans of pain and discomfort were stifled by more insects clogging his throat. They crawled through his sinuses and out of his nose. He had never felt more open. All of his muscles tensed in intervals, squeezing out handfuls of bugs after each pulse. The contractions and terrifying pain caused Hisoka to shit his pants and vomit in his own hair repeatedly.
Finally, after hours of excruciating labor, it was done. Illumi had collected a bulging net full of six-legged creatures. Hisoka dry heaved a few times, then propped himself up on his elbows to examine his offspring. He smiled weakly.
“They have your eyes.”
He was right. A few of the loose creatures had crawled into the soft, spongy flesh in the corners of Illumi’s eyes and carried the oversized orbs out of his head. They dangled limply from their tender optic nerves. He squashed the offending insects and shoved his eyes back in their respective sockets, rolling them around a few times to make sure they still worked. They did.
“I thought you said you were on the pill.”
“I’m on a lot of pills, Illumi. You weren’t very specific,” Hisoka mumbled. He wiped the puke off of his mouth and spit on the ground. “Anyways, I want custody.”
“Hisoka, shut the fuck up. We need to burn them.”
“Yes, I know. I want custody so I can do it,” Hisoka replied, staggering to his feet. Looking at the bag of writhing cockroaches soothed him somewhat.
“We can do it together.” Illumi reached a hand out to Hisoka. They grasped hands delicately, forming a bond over the murder of their newborn children.
“How romantic.”
They set the bag of babies on fire, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. The leaping orange bonfire complimented the sunset perfectly. As the insects went up in smoke, Hisoka and Illumi felt closer than ever before.
"I love you."
"OK."