Chapter Text
Killua stared after Gon with wide eyes.
‘I think I’m still in love with you, you idiot!’
His ears were ringing.
Nothing and everything made sense. And, right now, what made the most sense out of everything was that he was now sitting alone at a fancy restaurant and several people sitting just close enough to hear the end of their conversation were now giving him pitying glances.
This didn’t feel real. Not at all. The situation suddenly felt wholly out of his control.
He sat a moment to try to comprehend it. Gon? When? Why? What did he mean still?
Killua stood slowly from the table and took a tentative step, then another, and another. Soon he was running through the restaurant, waiters and fancily-dressed customers alike wore their unmasked surprise as Killua flew past them to the front door.
He ripped it open and stepped out into the drizzling rain, the dark clouds over the city now splitting to reveal the burnt orange sun of the sunset. He looked around wildly for a moment before his eyes landed on a dark-haired figure standing with his back to him. The figure stood only a few feet away, at the edge of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. It was obvious he was not hiding from Killua.
Gon.
Killua steeled himself as he approached and stepped up next to him.
Gon didn’t look at him, “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear. I’m sorry.”
Killua’s voice sounded small as he forced out his words, “This is all so fucked up.”
To Killua’s surprise, Gon laughed. A genuine, we’re-so-fucked kind of laugh that split through the awkwardness between them only for a moment.
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Gon said when he caught his breath, sighing with just a hint of misery, “It’s a lot to ask but, can we just, um, forget about it?”
Yeah, there was no way Killua was forgetting about that.
He didn’t know what to say in response.
Killua must have been silent for too long because Gon started speaking again, “I’ll um, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll keep a lookout for Needlemen but I’ll stay out of your way, Killua won’t have to see me, I’ll just be-“
“Don’t,” Killua heard himself say.
Gon then whirled around and his eyes, wide in shock, amazement, met Killua’s and for a moment it felt like time itself had just slowed down of its own accord.
As time does in the city, fast-tracking itself, slowing itself down, and reversing itself seemingly by its own volition.
Killua held contact with that wide honey brown gaze for another half an eternity longer before he broke it. Those eyes looked so amber in the crisp orange sunset. It had been so long since he’d seen them in the light like that. Killua stared down at his shoes.
He didn’t understand himself.
“…Just stay.” Killua whispered.
Another moment passed.
Gon swallowed, “Okay.”
.x.x.x.x.x.x.
The decision to call it a night was an unanimous, silent understanding. Even with the two of them each giving a small bit of effort to try and diffuse the loaded tension that hung in the air between them, it remained persistent.
The hotel Gon chose was another five star high rise. Bisky’s home was all the way on the other side of the city, so it made no sense to make the journey back. As Gon checked them in - two separate rooms - he idly wondered if Gon was choosing all of these high end places because he thought that’s what Killua would like.
To be fair, Gon wouldn’t be wrong, but expensive taste was the last thing on Killua’s mind.
Despite the temperature of the city having cooled down as the sun set, Killua felt like the feverish city heat of the day clung to his skin, his clothes, his hair.
The heat followed him into the elevator as they rode up in silence. The backpack on his shoulders felt sticky, warm. Gon, though on the other side of the elevator, was too close. Killua was aware of everything. The slight bounce of Gon’s hair as he brushed a tan hand against it, the ripple of his arm muscles with the movement. Something was building in his stomach, a foreign, hot tension, leaving his head dizzy and breath short.
Killua was aware of the deep, deep, emptiness in his own chest. A hole that had once been Illumi’s place, that had been filled with the anger and loss of the past week. Now replaced with a new anger, a fresh confusion, a brewing storm of everything that told him he had no control over his life.
Gon’s words still bounced around in his brain.
‘I think I’m still in love with you, you idiot!’
The confession had left him reeling, made his stomach feel strange, and had born a feverish uncertainty and unpredictability. This silence between them was heavy, loaded. He wanted to tell Gon that he thinks he feels the same way, that God, he can’t believe he never saw this coming. That he is such an idiot. That he is so confused and angry and scared of all of his feelings for the man beside him.
It was all so incredibly frustrating. And lonely.
He kind of wished he was a little kid again. Everything was so simple back then. Back then, when the horrors of the day were over, he could just run into Illumi’s arms. He could just lay in his older brother’s lap and have all his troubles be swept away by simple, oh so wonderfully simple, pets on the head.
The elevator rang to indicate they’d reached their floor. The two stepped out and made their way down the hall. Silent, awkward.
Killua hated this.
They came to a stop outside of the room that matched the number on Killua’s key.
“….I’ll see you out here in the morning,” Gon said. He didn’t meet Killua’s eyes, “So… yeah, um, goodnight.”
His stomach felt so sick.
“Don’t leave.” Killua’s voice was quiet, quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, “I, uh, don’t want you to leave.”
He was painfully aware of how stupid he sounded.
“I don’t want you to leave.” Killua said again.
The tension was thick. Killua dared to glance at those brown eyes and was met with a look he couldn’t place.
After a minute Gon nodded slowly, and Killua put the key in the lock without letting himself think twice. Popping the door open, Killua waited for Gon to enter into the room first.
He shut the door slowly, letting it fall shut and click once to confirm it had locked on the outside. Like any fancy hotel room in the city, this one was modernly and minimally decorated, with a big white bed, and big windows looking out over the nighttime Yorknew skyline. Moonlight poured through illuminating the space. Neither of them turned on a light.
When Killua turned back around, Gon was standing a few feet away, watching him hesitantly.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Gon said softly, concern laced his tone and Killua wanted to slap him.
“I don’t understand myself,” Killua ground out. And it was true, he didn’t. Not anymore, “I’m supposed to be mad at you. I want to be mad at you.”
“Then be mad at me.”
“Don’t you get it?” Killua snapped, “Everything about this is so confusing. You killed Illumi, then I find out that it was basically orchestrated by fucking Hisoka, then you tell me you and Bisky had some deal having to do with me and didn’t think maybe I ought to know about it! Then you - you drop that on me!”
Gon threw up his hands in exasperation, “I shouldn’t be here. Goodnight, Killua.”
He pushed past Killua but before his hand can hit the door handle more words were falling from Killua’s mouth, desperate to say anything before the other walked out, “I want you to stay.”
Gon paused, but Killua could tell he wouldn’t be in this room much longer if he didn’t do something. He knew Gon only had so much patience. He felt messy, embarrassed, but unable to stop.
Killua spoke again, and he wanted to punch himself as he heard the desperation and blatant honesty enter his voice, “I’m scared of what it means that I feel like this.”
“That you feel angry?”
“No.”
Gon glanced back around now, his eyes deep, unreadable. Killua had no idea what he was doing. He knew deep down that he should not, absolutely should not be doing this. That this would be his own fault when he regretted it, that this was horribly, horribly stupid.
Despite his better judgement, Killua stared back at the other and Gon turned towards him, taking a step, then another. In the moonlight he looked nothing and everything like the kid Killua once knew. Dark, dark, hair on that tan, island-kissed skin. His hands, softer than they looked - Killua knew personally. Hands capable of so, so much damage.
“What do you feel like, Killua?” Gon’s voice felt like a knife through the silence.
“You know what I feel like,” Killua all but hissed back.
“I won’t unless you tell me.”
“Then I guess you never will.”
Gon’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, like approaching a wild animal, his palm came into soft contact with the side of Killua’s face. Fire, fire, fire, leapt across Killua’s skin. So warm, so incredibly warm and unbearable. But moving away was an option he’d revoked from himself the moment he’d asked Gon to stay.
“Why did you ask me to stay?”
Killua didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Gon’s hand stayed there, like he was waiting for Killua to pull away, to slap his hand off of the pale skin there.
But he didn’t move. He asked him to stay because everything in Killua’s body was dying for something, some sort of human comfort in all this.
Killua averted his eyes, face flushing, “Just do it already.”
Gon then moved fluidly, not needing another green light, and Killua was frozen in place as Gon placed a single, chaste kiss on his cheek. It burned, burned like an inferno.
He waited. So, so still. Breath shallow, anticipatory. He waited until Gon’s lips separated from his skin, until Gon’s breath ghosted against his lips.
This close, Gon’s eyes betrayed nothing. Suddenly Killua knew for certain he was not mentally ready for this himself, but if Gon was… if Gon was, then maybe Killua would find relief from this old, childish craving for the comfort of another human. Maybe he wouldn’t have to think about Illumi, about his life’s total loss of control, about his confusion towards the man before him for the next hour. Maybe he could just follow Gon’s lead.
Killua closed the last centimeter between them.
Their lips had only just collided and suddenly Gon’s lips were crashing against his own, an arm winding around him to bring him closer, closer. Gon was kissing him. Gon was kissing him.
Killua kissed him back feverishly, bringing his own hands up, running them through the dark, spiky hair. Its texture soft, and coarse, all at once. Killua was pushed back towards the bed and fell onto it backwards, Gon moving on top to kiss his neck, his jaw, his lips again.
This couldn’t be real. Everywhere Gon touched started a new fire, his hands wandering over Killua’s chest, thumb over his jaw, fingers through his hair. This was so, so wrong. Stopping was no longer in Killua’s vocabulary.
“Is this okay?” Gon asked between gasps.
Killua couldn’t even articulate a sentence back.
He instead flipped them both, straddling Gon triumphantly. In one motion Killua pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly off to the side. Gon’s eyes were dark in the moonlight, a strange hunger there that Killua had never seen before, that sent butterflies bubbling up violently through his lower belly. He’d seen a different kind of hunger there before. One that moved universes.
Gon’s eyes stayed like that a second longer, like they were trying to take in everything they saw all at once, before Killua let out an undignified yelp as Gon flipped them once again. Gon all but attacked his neck with one love bite, then another as Killua arched up to meet his body, desperate for any friction. Gon pinned his hands above his head as he moved to kiss down Killua’s chest. Killua quickly wriggled his hands out of his grasp, shooting down to fumble with the other’s belt.
This was a bad choice. He was in no mental state for this. But Gon wanted him and his brain was fuzzy with how hot the room had become. This was okay to indulge in. He wanted Gon, too. God, he wanted Gon too.
This was okay. Doing what Gon wanted was oddly familiar, even now in this exceedingly new situation. It was safe, exhilarating. Maybe this was how it should be. Maybe he should just accept he’ll never have control in his life. He wanted this. He wanted this.
“Wait. Wait,“ Gon gasped suddenly, in one motion pinning Killua’s arms down to his sides on the bed.
“What? Huh?” Killua breathed, face flushed, brain taking three extra seconds to register that Gon had effectively stopped all motion between the two of them.
“I don’t want it to be like this.”
“Gon. Seriously?” Killua groaned, breathing out impatiently. He let his head fall back on the pillow, expressing his discontent loudly.
“I’m not going to do it with you like this.”
“The fuck are you talking about?”
“You’re still angry. This isn’t right.”
This had to be some kind of cosmic revenge for Killua’s whole entire fucking life.
Gon released his hands and moved off of Killua to the edge of the bed. He tugged his belt back into place and Killua was ready to jump off a cliff.
“I can tell when Killua’s thinking something.” Gon said before Killua could even come up with a coherent thought.
“I thought you wanted this,” Killua growled, well beyond the point of bothering to hide his frustration.
“I don’t want to do it just because you think that I want it!”
“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“No! I mean yes! I mean - UGH!” Gon exclaimed, standing up and turning to look at Killua, his face flushed and red, “You’re angry, and sad, and confused, and doing this just because you know I want to is only going to make things worse!”
“That’s not the only reason!” Killua’s face burned at being read by Gon so easily, “Are you dumb? I fucking like you too, idiot! Are you happy now?”
“So you admit that what I said is a reason.”
“Gon-“
“As long as it’s a reason that exists, I’m out.”
Killua watched in dismay from the white, cold, sprawling bed as Gon exited out the hotel room door without even a glance back. The door shut with a click, and he was suddenly left alone with nothing but exasperation, a bruised ego, burning humiliation, and about ten thousand pounds of sexual frustration.
.x.x.x.x.x.x.
The next morning came way too soon, even though Killua hardly slept for longer than an hour. The light that filtered into the room despite the blinds being pulled felt like it was mocking him and the dark bags under his eyes.
Killua decided he was going to take his sweet time this morning. Maybe he’d have another shower on top of the two he’d already taken ever since Gon left him high and dry last night. No need to rush. Maybe if he was lucky Gon would go on without him and he’d never see him again.
Okay, he didn’t actually hope for that. The thought of Gon just leaving after all that made him nauseous.
Why did this keep going wrong? Every step forward felt like two steps back.
Maybe he and Gon really were bad for each other. Maybe that was a universal constant, no matter how they both grew and changed. It was old habits, again and again, and he’d been convinced it was only Gon and his actions in the warehouse until last night the other had called Killua out on his own bullshit.
He had been right. Killua wanted Gon, yes, he did - he knew that now for sure, but he knew deep down last night would have been atrocious if they’d gone any further. The grief, loss, anger, and confusion cocktail had him searching for comfort in an old habit, an old vice. The old habit that took its form in giving Gon everything he wanted even if it meant sacrificing his own wellbeing - especially if it meant sacrificing his own wellbeing.
But Gon had seen right through that. Something younger Gon wouldn’t have realized the severity of. He was able to recognize Killua’s actions for what they were - self destructive. Gon, the same one who made the impossible decision to kill Illumi even though he knew better, even though Illumi’s life was Killua’s to take.
But then again, did Gon have a choice? If he really felt that way about Killua, if Hisoka had really played him so expertly, if Killua had really been that close to death… what choice did Gon have, realistically?
No, maybe they weren’t bad for each other. Gon had said he was trying to be ‘good enough’ - the true meaning of that was elusive - but Killua was the one putting up the obstacles in front of Gon. Killua was the one who couldn’t move past the warehouse, who couldn’t communicate.
Maybe it was just Killua who was bad for Gon.
The realization made him realize he’d just shampoo-ed his hair three times completely lost in thought.
He owed Gon an apology.
He stepped out of the shower and dried his hair on a fluffy white hotel towel, pulling on fresh clothes from his backpack slowly. He pulled on plain high-neck burgundy t-shirt and moveable black shorts with white socks. He brushed his teeth, staring at his reflection. His blue eyes looked especially striking today, on behalf of the whites of his eyes being tinted red from last night’s restlessness.
He left the bathroom and went about packing up his clothes from yesterday back into his backpack. He checked his phone for the time: 9 AM. Idly, he wondered if Gon was pissed at him for taking so long yet. Or, option two, Gon had already left and Killua wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day, or perhaps for the rest of time.
Neither option felt good.
Just then, Killua heard a knock at the door.
“No room service, thanks!” He called.
“Killua, open the door.” A familiar voice sounded from outside.
Oh, so it would be option one.
Killua made his way to the door, anxiety rising with each step. Option two was sounding better and better by the second. He braced himself.
He begrudgingly opened it slowly, revealing Gon, holding two iced coffee’s and a takeout bag from the local donut shop.
Gon offered Killua a shrug and a small, tentative smile as he held out one of the coffees, “Breakfast?”
.x.x.x.x.x.x.
Killua didn’t even have the mental capacity to remember to be awkward when he sank his teeth into the best chocolate donut he’d ever had. He was fucking starving. Maybe it was the whole not-eating-anything-besides-cake-and-pie thing yesterday.
They sat on the floor by the window. There was no way in hell Killua was about to sit on the bed with Gon right now. Despite his hunger, forgetting about last night’s humiliation wasn’t going to just un-brand itself from his brain that easily.
“Here,” Gon offered him the bag of donuts after only taking a singular plain one for himself. Killua accepted, pulling yet another from the bag.
He sipped the coffee. It tasted like it contained about three pounds of cream and sugar.
Heaven.
“…How did you know I like my coffee like this?” He asked after a moment.
A small smile graced Gon’s lips, “I guess I just assumed five years wasn’t enough time for you to recover from your sugar addiction.”
Killua snorted at that, and the two fell into a silence that quickly turned from comfortable to awkward as Killua became increasingly aware of their proximity, of the hickeys on Gon’s neck next to the fabric of his fresh black tank top.
Killua busied his hands and mouth with devouring yet another donut.
Gon had brought him breakfast. Gon had gone out and specifically gotten him breakfast while Killua spent the morning half-hoping and half-dreading the other had just disappeared off the face of the planet.
Last night was also painfully fresh. Whatever wall that had come down between them in the night was now freshly back up in place, so much so that the idea of Gon kissing him almost felt like a dream.
Horrifically, he was starting to lose his appetite again.
Killua felt dirty. Did what happen last night constitute as using Gon? And, if it did, he used him for what? To feel better about his miserable life, to feel something other than anger, grief, and unbearable, overwhelming confusion? Because in all of this, a sick, twisted, childhood-remnant of himself had been reborn to yearn for something even remotely akin to Illumi’s comfort?
“I’m bad for you.” Gon said suddenly.
Killua was completely taken aback.
“What?”
“I’m bad for you,” Gon said again. He raised his eyes and looked directly into Killua’s, looking decidedly unhappy, “I realized it last night. I almost pressured you into doing something you didn’t want to do. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you didn’t want it sooner. It’s not okay and it won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
Killua blinked. Was he joking?
“Are you joking?”
Gon shook his head no, “I would never joke about this. I’m sorry.”
“That’s literally… No, Gon, none of that was your fault. I didn’t not want to do it, you didn’t pressure me into anything, I just-“ Killua paused for a moment, trying to collect himself, before he spoke quietly with a blush dusting across his face at his own words, “I think I used you last night. At least I tried to. I’m sorry.”
Gon’s eyebrows creased and concern laced his tone, “Killua, I don’t think you used me.”
“I did.”
“I think you were confused, and I think you are going through a lot. I think you just needed someone.”
Killua shook his head no frantically, “What I did was wrong. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry.”
Gon sighed and the look in his wide eyes was just too much. Killua looked away, down at the floor where a half-eaten donut was set on a napkin. His face burned in embarrassment at admitting he’d done something so horrible, at saying it out loud, but he needed Gon to know he was sorry. Killua had done worse things. He’d killed people, killed people’s families, killed people’s lovers. Why did the reality that he’d wronged Gon feel so much worse than any of that?
Gon breathed in like he was about to say something, then let out the breath, apparently changing his mind.
“We need to get going soon.” He said.
.x.x.x.x.x.x.
The morning outside in the city was bright and warm. There were only two Nen devices left to be activated, and Killua felt like he could feel their weight specifically in his backpack. He was tired. Normally, he was fine going even a few days without sleeping, but now, the emotional exhaustion was catching up to him.
Thankfully, it appeared Gon was putting in quite an attempt to keep up their energy collectively, with a bounce in his step that Killua wasn’t quite sure was real light-heartedness, or if he was just feigning it.
The second to last location was in one of the many harbors in Yorknew City. To Killua’s surprise, the lengthy walk there was oddly therapeutic, along old cobblestone roads and passed old buildings. Maybe it was simply the ability to stretch his legs after spending the night restless, or maybe it was Gon doing his best to keep the air between them comfortable. Maybe both. Killua was mostly quiet on the way there.
Gon’s efforts were much appreciated, but Killua was not convinced he deserved them.
The harbor was huge when it came into view, and nothing like the industrial hub that Killua imagined it would be. Shops and restaurants lined the edge of the cobblestone that dropped off into the water. Big, majestic looking boats floated lazily as birds called overhead. Even the huge aquarium on the far side looked beautiful, complete with glass windows that allowed outsiders to peek in to see an enormous indoor rainforest jungle.
The two of them came to a stop at the water’s edge, people passing by in their colorful summer getups. The water was the only thing dismal about the scene - a dark, murky gray that looked like it had taken quite a beating from hundreds of years of pollution.
“Now’s the hard part,” Gon said, shielding his eyes against the sun, “Our location is gonna be inside one of those old stationary boats over there. They have tours on them, and stuff.”
“Getting tickets should be easy enough,” Killua said, almost shyly. The guilt still running through his veins was persistent, “They should have them around here somewhere.”
“Killua should really start planning for missions a little better,” Gon said cheekily, as he reached into his back pocket.
Killua watched hesitantly, and sure enough, Gon pulled out two boat tour tickets. Because of course he did. Gon smiled hugely, and patted Killua shortly on the back before taking off towards the boats.
“Race you there!”
Killua stumbled for a moment at the touch, which sent fire through his veins. Instead of reigniting the awkwardness he was sure was going to come back if it was given any chance to, the action interestingly seemed to lift some of the anxiousness off Killua"s heart. Surprised at this, He allowed himself a small smile.
Not too surprised to lose to Gon running to the boat docks, however.
The boats were enormous up close, flying flags of all different colors. They had to have been at least several hundred years old, but exceedingly well preserved and even beautiful. They gave the workers at the booth their tickets and before Killua knew it they were lead with a group of tourists up into the first boat.
“I’ve been on boats like this before,” Gon said conversationally as they both stepped onto the old, preserved wood, “Back on Whale Island they used to come through more often than some people think.”
“Huh.” Was all Killua said in reply. He looked up at the enormous sails tied snugly to the mast. It rose way up into the sky, “We need to set up the next device so we can finally get this over with.”
Gon didn’t respond, and when Killua lowered his eyes down from the mast Gon was looking out into the ocean at the side of the hull. The expression on his face was strange, but Killua was slowly getting used to that.
“Gon?”
“Let’s get below deck to do it,” He said after a minute, and moved away from his perch and towards the old, tiny staircase leading into the belly of the boat.
Killua didn’t comment. He had a feeling saying something might make things weird again. The air between them was not awkward, despite all evidence pointing towards that it definitely should be.
He’d admitted to Gon that he reciprocated the other’s feelings last night. But nothing had happened in the end. Maybe that was for the best.
Killua was never good at wanting things that were best for him.
The belly of the ship was wide, and a lot bigger than it had seemed above deck. Circular, open-air windows let light pour into the otherwise dark cavern. There were old cast iron cannons rolled and blockaded into place by the edges, and closer to the front of the belly, a long walkway suspended above the deep rounded bottom of the ship. A plaque next to the railing informed them this is where the crew would often store their goods.
It was just luck that no other tourists had followed them down and were more than likely still enjoying the view atop the deck as Killua and Gon lowered themselves down into the storage area.
The floor was uneven, certainly not meant for human feet to stand on. Killua hit the steep belly as he dropped down, effectively sliding all the way to the bottom directly underneath the wooden walkway, which seemed so high now.
Gon dropped down beside him, and nodded as Killua pulled out a Nen device.
He knew even before he started that this one was going to be tough. Killua’s absolute exhaustion was not a part of the equation when Bisky had come up with the plan. But throwing in the towel here was not an option. If it was, he would have done it ten extra times over the course of this absolute train wreck of a mission.
Okay, the mission itself wasn’t a train wreck. But it was hard to deny a lot of aspects of it were so far.
Depressing thoughts aside, Killua placed the device on the tilted floor of the ship and bent down to hold his hand steadily over it.
He took a deep breath and forced his his aura to roar to life.
Killua felt the strain immediately as each molecule in his body complained at the maximum usage of his Hatsu. The blue light danced brilliantly, and he silently hoped to god none of the tourists were Nen users who would be able to sense it instantly.
He surged at the highest maximum that his body was apparently willing to give, and soon the electricity died down to a dull roar, then down to nothing but the leftover static.
Killua breathed out, relief washing over him as the device glowed blue to indicate success even when he lifted his hand. He stood, bracing himself for the dizziness he knew was about to rise to the front of his brain. It did, but he didn’t sway, and just stood for a moment with his eyes closed.
“Um… Killua?”
“Yes?” Killua said, eyes still shut, still riding out the wave of exhaustive dizziness.
“Uh. I think we’re about to get arrested.”
Killua opened his eyes slowly, putting a hand to his forehead and turning his face to give Gon a quizzical glance.
Gon simply shrugged and pointed upwards, where just in his line of sight Killua could see a frazzled-looking tourist up on the upper level of the ship belly, pointing in their general direction to some kind of wimpy looking security officer.
Killua groaned, “Great. Just what we needed-WOAH!”
Before he’d even finished his sentence, his feet were no longer on the ground. Gon had scooped him up and leapt powerfully up from the bottom of the hull onto the thin wooden bridge above them. Considering Killua was slightly taller than Gon, he imagined this spectacle probably looked extravagantly silly to their two onlookers.
“Sorry, Killua!” Gon exclaimed as he set Killua down on the wooden fixture. The dark haired Hunter didn’t wait for his response as he leapt forward and hooked his arm out of one of the circular, glass-less windows in the side of the hull.
Killua didn’t even have time for any strong words of frustration. Gon didn’t look back as he catapulted himself out of sight and Killua followed, easily fitting through the window and leaping up onto the top deck after Gon. Even if anyone found the Nen device below - which Killua was sure no common people were going to willingly jump down there anyway - there was no chance they were un-sticking that thing from the floor.
As they make their escape, again it felt like flames danced across his skin again where his skin had come in contact with Gon’s. He’d been squeezed tight against the other’s body, if only for a second. A second long enough for the his senses to be immediately reminded of last night. Of Gon last night, kissing him, touching him.
Despite his guilt surrounding those kisses specifically, surrounding Gon specifically, a flurry of heat flared to life in his lower belly.
“Was that necessary?” He called out as the two of them bolted across the deck and leapt down onto the harbor cobblestone.
“Probably not!” Gon laughed as he dodged between tourists.
Killua hoped he could see him rolling his eyes.