Another one for seasons, written primarily so I could use the title. Wordplay is my weakness. Betaed by Eliza.

He misses winter most, the cold and pristine white, the gleam of ice. The way blue shadows gathered unexpectedly around camouflaged irregularities in the landscape.

He's learned to expect shadows everywhere, and none of them are blue.

Hisoka is like winter when he comes to them, for all his cold eyes are spring's color and his hair gleams like autumn leaves. Tatsumi can only dream the white of his face and hands covers the rest of his body like snow in the high mountains. Tatsumi can only dream what shadows gather between Hisoka's ribs and hips.

He misses winter most.

~END~