Bishounen-Force-5: Chapter Two

~Chapter Two: Sleepless, Day and Night~

"Hip~ Hip-pap~ dee~dee~" A bowl of pancake better was stirred as Hisoka stood by the stove the next morning, making up a little song as sunlight poured from the windows of the kitchen, the orange glow meaning it was early morning. "Makin' some pancakes, for everybody~ Don't know if they'll like 'em, so I hope they don't hurt me~" He sang, performing a small spin, his blue apron fanning around him, before he poured the batter into the smoking pan, pressing down on the hot cakes as a sweet smell wafted into the whole apartment.

Something heavy landed in the half-empty bowl of batter, and Hisoka blinked, grabbing the end of a shoelace and pulling out a black and white sneaker.

"When did I add shoe into the mix? Before, or after the milk?" He asked himself, hearing one of chairs of the kitchen table scrape across the floor. He turned and smiled at the inwardly-stoic eyes looking at him.

"Good morning, Eric!" Chimed Hisoka, flipping a few pancakes before catching them in pan.

"What's so good about it?" Muttered Eric, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the table. "Any why the Hell do you get up so early in the morning? It's seven freakin' AM and you're walking me up with your humming."

"I like to watch the sunrise. That, and I'm a morning person!" Beaming, Hisoka topped the hot cakes with a little more butter to bring out the sweetness, humming to himself.

"Damn ADHD . . . Sunflower-bastard," Eric grumbled, his smoky eyes watching as Hisoka tossed the breakfast into the air at dangerous heights. "Moron, those'll hit the floor if you throw them like that."

"Hey!" A spatula was wagged at the older man's face. "I've been making pancakes for years now. I've only dropped a few . . . Hundred, in my lifetime," Hisoka turned back to the stove, grabbing the handle of the frying pan and positioning his hands in volleyball-player pose. With great strength, he flipped in the air. "None of them will-" Pancakes in mid-air began to fly, and Hisoka ran to catch all of them, one making a light smack noise as it landed on a head of white hair. ". . . Oh . . ."

" . . . I'll give you to the count of ten," A warning growl was sent as the smaller man stood up and the blonde began to back away. "One . . . TEN!"

"AHHHHHHH!" Screaming, Hisoka dove himself over the joined island window and ran for his life as a angered psychic chased after him. It was amazing that Eric could look so calm at that moment, yet he was ready to hurt the blonde.

"What happened to the count of ten!?" Yelled Hisoka.

"You lost all rights of that, Bumblebee!"

"Eric!"

"You're dead!"

***

"What's going on out there?" Asked Seth, ducking his head to check what was going inside the fire escape, yet Jun pulled him back.

"Hisoka pissed off Eric unintentionally, again," Sighed the second eldest of the five Bishounens, looking at the alley down below. Since they were living near the roof top, it was a sheer drop of fifty-feet, all the two the cemented floor that held a miniature garden with fake décor and a sixed-shelved mailbox for the apartment occupants. Over all, it was the ultimate suicide spot.

"This is gonna be the best bungee-jump test, ever!" Cheered Seth, pumping his fists in the air.

"Uh-huh," Jun said, distracted with securing the bungee-cords into Seth's safety harness. Nodding to himself, the raven-haired youth stood and patted Seth on the back. "Alright, you're good to go."

"Say Jun, how come I'm the only one doing the jump?" Asked the freckled-face surfer, looking over the metal staircase. He gulped at the towering feat and shook a little.

"Relax," Jun waved his hand dismissively. "If anything happens, I'll pull you right up with the emergency harness . . . And with an open casket," He uttered quietly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," The man with green eyes clapped him on the back. "Go on, let's see you fly without Eric hurdling you through the air." Nodding with sweat gathering on his brow,
Seth nodded and climbed to the railing, sitting on it for a second. Checking his helmet to make sure it was strapped on so tight, close to choke himself, he took a deep breath before closing his eyes and dropping.

He wanted to scream, but the call was stuck in his throat, the pressure of the wind beating against his chest as he fell. At the last second, when it seemed he would become a stain on the ground, something stretched and flew him upward, pond-like eyes opening as grey and red blurs past him. His body spun once and as he swung near the other balconies and fire escapes, he grinned largely.

"THIS IS AWESOME!" He whooped, happily flying as his body rocked up and down from the air. Jun, who had left into the kitchen to get some coffee, walked back to the fire escape and watched the happy-go-lucky teen swing like a pendulum. With a sigh, he sipped on his coffee.

"And here I thought we finally got rid of him."

***
The sparks on silver danced as he sharpened the blade of the weapon. Smoothing his finger along the edge, Sire nodded with approval as he placed the knife down and reached for another one. Since Eric and Hisoka were off getting breakfast somewhere (after the temper-headed Eric left three huge bumps on Hisoka's forehead), Jun was off to grab some books from the local library, and Seth had left somewhere on his own, Sire decided that now was a good a time as ever to bring out his knife collection and sharpen them out on the back-loft patio.

It was out in the open, but he was in a concrete jungle as well. It was the city, too. So if with these city folk busy as they usually were, and himself given a great hiding place, no one was sure to catch him.

"Excuse me?" His dull sharpener paused, Sire looked around for the voice that called out. "What are you doing?" The voice, very light and soft, turned a little bold, and the crimson-eyed "gentleman" looked across to the other balcony, a pair of brown eyes as flat as almonds staring at him curiously.

"Is it any of your business?" He asked, tilting his head at the girl across the matter-less air. From his best guess, she was a few inches shorter than him, a blue-grey sweater zipped-upped on her torso with wavy brown hair tied in a ponytail, a roundish face looking very child-like.

"Not really," The girl shrugged, worrying her teeth on the tip of her thumb, and eying his knife set. "I never knew someone could own so many knives."

"Why don't you come over, and I can personally show you how much I have?" Sire grinned wickedly. "Then, we can play some . . . Darts with them, yes?"

The girl hummed to herself, lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet, before shaking her head, looking ever-so dolce. "Nah. I might regret that. You seem to be the type of guy who can hurt anyone."

Sire chuckled. This girl was interesting. "And pray tell, why is that?" He purred.

"You just have that look," The brunette rested her chin on her now folded arms, her bangs that framed her face making her look pure. "Some kind of look . . ." She almost said this to herself, eyes squinting a bit. " . . . Something that makes you look like a killer."

"Is that right?" Sire's eyes glittered dangerously, and the thrill of sudden adrenalin rushed through him. Like a lion ready to pounce on a suspecting gazelle, the redhead wanted to see fear flash before those deep, brown eyes. "You're very observant, Miss . . ."

"Izzie," The girl answered, only innocent yet simple interest on her face. "Izzie Zwei. And you're that new guy who moved in with those other guys, too."

"Sire Baine. The pleasure is all mine," Replied Sire, absentmindedly running his finger from the hilt of his current knife, to the very tip. "Well then, Iziie. As you can see, I
am very busy, so-"

"Sharpening knives?" Izzie's eyebrows rose. "Dude, my mom does that for house work."

"Huh, I see," Mused the underground worker, his smirk widen the slightest. 'You're an interesting thing, aren't you?'

"Oh, did I insult you?" Flushing, Izzie shook her head and whimpered. "S-Sorry! I had my foot in my mouth, again! Geez, I always screw-up with new folks like this!"

Chuckling, Sire shook his head. "That's fine, very fine," Sire stood from his seat and grinned. "I have to head back inside, Izzie. But we should meet some other time, hm?"

"What?" Izzie blinked, and the coloring from her cheeks dulled. "Well, that's the thing! My roommate and I want to meet all of you guys. Well, I might have to drag Gale out of bed, since she's not a morning person . . ." Her voice trailed off the slightest, losing her train of thought, before she blinked and nodded at Sire. "Yeah. We all of gotta meet, ya know?"

"Yes," Sire agreed, heart filled with dark intent. 'Huh, I need a new target to work with. She'll do.'

"Great!" Smiling, the brown-haired girl threw a mock-salute as she walked back to her balcony's door. "See ya around, Sire!"

"You, too." Sire said, grinning darkly as the door closed behind her. "Izzie Zwei, hm?"
Laughing again, Sire picked up his sharp blade collection and returned into the apartment.

***

The door to an apartment was kicked open, and someone scurried into the room, fake raccoon ears stitched onto a grey hood. Ruddy cheeks covered with small smudges, the young girl walked into the living room and nodded her head at Izzie, the brunette busy with a video game.

"Gale, where've ya been?" Asked Izzie, eyes the bag the younger, brown-haired girl had. There was a certain look on Gale's face, and something in Izzie's mind clicked. "You were snooping at the new people, again?"

"Yeah," Grinning, Gale placed the bag on the table of the light-blue painted room and sorted through mismatched items. "Five guys live there. And I swear, they're the craziest ones, Izzie." The latter herself paused her game and sat up.

"How so?"

"Well!" Pushing down the hood of her raccoon hoodie, Gale's grey-brown eyes glittered mischievously. "What I got in this bag are pancakes, dull knives, cat fur, old bottles of paint, black hair dye bottles, old food stuff, and other weird things." She said, proud of herself.

"Gross," Izzie made a face, though her lips quirked with a grin. "But cool. Hey, I just met one of the guys today, too!"

"Really?" Gale tied up her bag of "treasure" and sat down on their worn-out couch. "Which one and what was he like?" She asked, swiping Izzie's small game consul and playing it. She knew Izzie wouldn't mind, since the perkier girl asked for help on this game almost all the time.
"The red-haired one. His name is Sire," Izzie took a seat as well and tied off her black and white sneakers. "He's pretty cool . . . Though I think he might be a killer."

"Killer?" Gale bit her tongue as the plot in the story began to thicken. "Killer as in "lady killer"? Or-"

"No, no. As in, killer-killer," Emphasized her friend. "He has some weird vibe."

"Weird how?"

"He's got a knife collection." Izzie stated. The shorter girl shimmied herself to she was sitting on the couch with her head over the edge and her legs in the air.

"Your dad has a knife collection."

"Because he works with a wilderness rescue team," Pointing this out, Izzie undid the tie in her hair and began to restyle her mess of brown hair. "And another thing; when a guy says he wants you to see said knife collection, what does that mean?" She asked.

"He wants to stab you."

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't supposed to be."

Sighing, Izzie berated herself and stood up. "I'm gonna make early dinner. Want anything particular?" She asked, walking into the kitchen."

"Home-style pizza!" Gale grinned. "It's been forever since you made that!"

"Alright," Nodding, Izzie made her way to the kitchen and got ready to cook. Pulling the fridge open, she hummed quietly.

"Sire Baine, huh?"

To Be Continued!