Chapter Text
"What the fuck!" Gon's voice exclaims loudly and disbelieving. Killua's shoulders go up in his ears with tension as the blood rushes up into his cheeks.
"Holy shi—Killua—"
Killua drops his keys into the bowl a little more aggressively than necessary and takes his shoes off. He turns to Gon, a snarl already firmly on his reddening face. He is rapidly approaching Killua; hand outstretched and reaching up, eyes the size of the moon, as Killua jerks back in a futile attempt to stay out of his reach—
"Don't—"
"Killua, your hair!" Gon exclaims, ignoring all the warning sings in Killua's posture. His tone is rushed—incredulous, and a soft sound of surprise escapes him as his fingers finally make contact with the soft strands of Killua's hair.
His jet black hair.
"Gon—" Killua grits out in the face of Gon's invasion of his personal space. Granted, is not like Killua has any of that left when it's Gon—what with being his boyfriend after all— or even that he isn't expecting Gon's sudden close proximity —again, boyfriends— it's just... Killua's sure that his stupid black hair in his stupid flushing face must be painting the stupidest picture he could ever imagine, and the way Gon is looking at him is not helping in the slightest. It is embarrassing. "—back off. Jeez, give me some bloody space—its not a big deal!" he says, pushing Gon back and away from him just far enough that he can shrug his jacket off.
"But—but—Killua, your hair is black!"
"No shit Gon! You're so observant," He bites out, sidestepping another of Gon's advancing moves and successfully avoiding another reaching hand. Gon pays no heed to his caustic tone and continues to try and touch him again. "It's not. a. big. deal. Its not permanent. It will come off—" eventually. Or so Ikalgo promised him. "soon." He finishes sourly, the water glass in his hand hitting the sink a little bit too forcefully.
He finally turns around to properly face Gon, which, by the way, still has that stunned, wide-eyed expression on his face stuck on Killua's newly dyed black strands. His eyes glimmer with wonder, soft around the corners even as wide as they are, the expression Gon always seem to have when looking at Killua: soft—gentle—lovingly.
The smile, slowly breaking out in his dumbstruck face, still warms Killua's cold little heart. Against his will, he can feel it expanding outwards and spreading around him from the centre of his chest to the tip of his fingers.
"You look..." Gon trails off, stepping up to him slowly. His hands snake around Killua's neck, tilting his head this way and that, observing the shine and glossiness of the hair in front of him. Killua finally indulges him, embarrassment subsiding a bit in the face of Gon's childlike wonder.
Still, cerulean eyes narrow cat-like and sharp. "Will you quit it already? It should wash off soon." he says, not betraying the frustration he felt when he washed it the first three times to no result.
This is all Ikalgo's fault.
He should have never said yes when his friend asked if Killua was free for the weekend, if he would like to join Ikalgo and his volunteer group in the tagging of the newly discovered marine especies being catalogued on the far end of the coast. It would be fun, Killua, he'd said, the work is so rewarding, he'd insisted, and plus you get to dive and catch abnormally-giant, deep-sea creatures Killua, what's not to like? which was what convinced Killua in the end, because, hello? Giant sea creatures? Gon was green with jealousy the whole week beforehand.
Killua had believed him, he can even go so far as admitting to have fun for the first two days of the diving and tagging. Even though cataloguing characteristics was boring, him and Ikalgo worked out a good system and got it done in no time. Everything went smooth and as planned until Sunday morning.
Early Sunday morning to be precise, when one of the other volunteers got distracted by the giant lion's mane jelly fish they just carefully deposited back into the ocean and somehow ended up mishandling the giant cephalopod-like creature in her hands. In the end, even if Killua had managed to save her from the ire and indignation of it, he had ended up being the one completely soaked head to toe into the gooey, ink-like spray from the frightened animal.
In spite of not being particularly venomous for humans, the spray still stung Killua's eyes and drenched his clothes and skin, but even if it did not outright harm him, the substance stuck to him like tar, sticky and heavy. He spent hours in the hotel scrubbing the dried specs of it out of his hair and hands but the black stain in his otherwise pristine silver locks stubbornly remained.
So Killua is understandably frustrated and embarrassed about it. Besides, seeing himself in the mirror or catching his reflection with the alien black hair feels like he's seeing someone else wearing his face. It startles the fuck out of him.
In his head, he also thinks the colour makes his eyes look too big for his face, emphasizing the dark circles under them more than ever; and it makes his skin too pale, almost sickly so. Killua takes great pride in his appearance at all times, even if he never been particularly fond of the colour of his hair, he still does not like the involuntary sudden change.
All it does is make him look silly and weird and not like himself, he thinks.
Of course, there was also a small part of Killua—the scared little boy, filled with insecurities and desperate for love and approval he once was—that wondered if Gon would hate it. How would he see Killua now; if that would be the thing that makes Gon's brain click to the fact that he's so fucking gorgeous, he can have anyone he wants and while Killua might not be an ugly guy, he is also not the most attractive one in the world; has a terrible difficult personality to deal with and a load of baggage so heavy they'd probably need an airship of their own...Then he hates himself for even thinking Gon could ever be so shallow; how could Killua—after all the years they've been together, after everything they overcame as a team, as life partners above everything else—ever even entertain a thought like that.
He shakes his head, squashes the thought as soon as he can and thinks, instead, of how Gon would be mad at him if he ever took a look at the inside of Killua's brain, after all, nobody talks shit about Killua, not even Killua himself! the Gon in his memory snarled, fiercely enough to make him believe it. Even if just for a while.
Well...Killua have always been his own worse enemy so he's kind of used to fighting battles with himself all the time.
Obviously he needn't have worried anyway, because now that he finds himself trapped into Gon's soft gaze he can see there's no judgment there. Nothing but the ever present fondness and love.
After he finally let's Gon squeeze him tight and sniff around him like the dog he is, Killua tells him what happened, how Ikalgo was no help at all and now owes him a life-time supply of choco-robos, and how the girl he inadvertently saved avoided him like the plague for the rest of their journey back to land without even a thank you for his troubles.
He rejoices in Gon's laughter, takes shelter in the brilliance of his smile and finally gives in into Gon's reaching fingers, letting them card and sift through his hair.
"Do we really have to?"
Killua is not whining. He is not. He is also not pouting! No matter what Gon says, there is no way he, Killua Zoldyck, would ever do such thing.
He scoffs, forcefully yanking his white turtleneck down his torso. When his head finally pops through again he can just catch the tail end of the weird look on Gon's face before he blinks and his bright caramel eyes are back to normal.
"Stop pouting, Killua." Gon grabs him around the waist and latches on his back like an oversized leech when Killua tries to brush past him towards the bathroom. Their eyes meet in the mirror for a second before Killua gets distracted by his atrocious hair colour again.
"Ugh. I'm not pouting," he says, tugging a strand of black in annoyance. "I just hate this hair—"
"It's just Alluka, Killua. Besides, you got the same hair colour as her now."
"I do not," Killua says, outraged at Gon's statement. "She's got dark chocolate brown hair Gon! Not like this, this—"
"Inky black? The colour of the midnight sky? Ooh, oh, jet black?" Gon supplies helpfully, laughter bubbling over and tapering off in erratic giggles as soon as he notices the murderous glare Killua is sending his way.
"Shut the fuck up, Gon." He mutters, sullenly and a tiny bit upset at being made fun of.
Just before leaving the house Gon presses him up against the door, golden eyes gleaming intense and endless in the low light. His voice is soft when he speaks.
"You know we don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?" He murmurs, a thumb going back and forth on Killua's cheek soothingly. "We can just stay home and I will cook you breakfast instead. I'm sure Alluka will understand. We don't have to go anywhere if you don't want to, Killua."
Killua nods, breathes out and snakes his arms around Gon in a loose embrace. Killua's fingers trace lightly under Gon's jacket, feeling the hard muscles beneath the soft fabric.
"I know." He murmurs back, admitting, even if just in his head, that he's being a tad dramatic about the whole thing. "Whatever. I miss Alluka. Besides, we are already dressed and at the door so...let's just go."
Gon beams at him and chirps out a cheerful okay. A slow and soft kiss on his lips have him melting against Gon, burrowing in his warmth and making his brain disregard and forget everything else around him for the moment.
*
They end up squished in a comfy and secluded diner booth with an excessive amount of coffee; huge plates of sweet and savoury pancakes, scrambled eggs and hash browns to share. Alluka and Nanika can't stop cooing at him and his disgruntled appearance and taking sneaky pictures when they think he's not looking.
He had confiscated Gon's phone earlier yesterday as soon as he noticed Gon surreptitiously trying to capture his "new look" even thought he swore up and down the pictures were just for him, he promises he won't send them to anyone, please Killuaaaa—
He still confiscated the phone, accurately guessed Gon's password, my birthday Gon, really? How easy do you want to make it for me, huh? while Gon glowered at him from the couch and deleted all the pictures of him and his unwanted, ugly dark-haired self from the device.
Well. All but one (where his hair was half-wet after attempt number five of washing it and the only thing he was wearing was a towel, hanging low on his hips. He had to admit that picture was pretty flattering), but Gon doesn't need to know about it yet.
Even thought he made sure to pointedly ignore Gon's comments about how he and Alluka looked more alike than ever now, or Nanika's squeal of glee when Killua indulgently let her pat his head, he had to admit it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.
Maybe the new style wasn't that bad after all.
Besides, it will wash off soon, he repeats to himself like a mantra, or so help him he'll dye Ikalgo's whole body purple.
Killua woke up alone in their bed. That in itself was not a big surprise.
Gon's sleeping cycle has always been quite predictable: he's quick to sleep, goes down like the dead and wakes up stupidly early the direct opposite of Killua, with his often troubled dreams; bouts of insomnia and generally crappy sleep schedule. Gon always make it a point to let Killua sleep for as long as he can get away with, today being no exception, he realises as he turns in bed to check the time. 9:15 his phone screen supplies, helpfully.
Hmm, still relatively early for Killua's standards.
There's no hurry so Killua sighs and stretches leisurely, getting off the bed to blurrily go to the bathroom. He frowns up at his reflection while brushing his teeth: the rumpled stretched-out old shirt and epic bed-head stare back at him from the mirror as he considers the still very dark colour of his hair.
He tilts his head this way and that, observing the faint morning light shining in the soft strands and thinks that maybe he's kind of getting used to it now? Maybe the colour is not even that bad? He thinks, again, at how much he'd been over-reacting about the whole thing after all.
Just letting his insecurities run wild in his head and cloud his judgment. Hm. Most likely.
He shuffles hazily to the kitchen. Still half asleep, in the comfort of his home, he sees no reason to bother with anything besides his morning coffee. He can hear Gon's out of tune humming coming from the laundry room and a soft little smile breaks out in his face unbidden. Zeroing towards the coffee maker, he sees that Gon left enough coffee for Killua to pour himself a big mug, which, he promptly does, adding too much sugar to it and finally sipping, sighing in contentment.
That's when he notices the drugstore paper bag in the table. Like the curious cat that he is, he walks over, head tilted and sets his half empty mug down to peer suspiciously inside the bag.
Oh.
He feels his heart drop as he pulls out the box of hair dye remover from the bag. Unconsciously, he tugs a little bit on his locks, face falling as he realises he was right all along wasn't he? The odd funny looks Gon has been throwing his way this whole time makes so much sense now. He must look like shit if even Gon wants the colour gone.
"Hey." A pair of arms envelope him in a warm, lazy embrace. In spite the urge to lean in and bask in the comfort of Gon's arms, Killua stays put where he is with the little box in his hands, unsure as to why he's suddenly feeling so...out of sorts.
He wanted the stupid colour gone, didn't he?
He knew it didn't suit him at all anyway, he's been trying to get rid of it for three days, for fuck's sake. It shouldn't come as such a surprise that Gon didn't like it either but, wow, Killua did not realised how much Gon also wanted it gone.
"You brought me this." He says, unnecessarily. He turns around into Gon's embrace, eyes focused on the pleased little smile adorning his boyfriend's face. Gon's eyes crinkle when his smile turns into a grin and he squeezes Killua a little bit tighter before letting go.
"I did!" He says, and he looks so fucking pleased with himself, too. "I had to ask Alluka if such a thing even existed—I had no idea how many hair..." Gon trails off, probably noticing the oddly disappointed face Killua is trying but miserably failing to supress. "...Killua?"
Killua awkwardly sets the box down and looks away from Gon's confused frown. "You should have said something sooner, Gon."
Killua is aware that he's being ridiculous. He is. But he can't help it. The way Gon has been looking at him since he came back, the way he's been fixating on Killua's hair, running his fingers through it at every opportunity...Killua just thought…Tsk, it is just like him to misinterpret this sort of things isn't it? He can't blame Gon for his own shortcomings, after all.
"Well... I only thought of it this morning so I went to get it when I was out for my run...Killua was sleeping...I didn't wanted to wake you—"
"Not that, dummy. You should have said that you didn't like it sooner..." Killua runs his fingers through the mess in his hair. He hadn't bothered to brush it so he must be sporting a pretty epic rats-nest up there. Great. "Does it really look that bad?" He asks quietly, already knowing the answer but dreading it all the same. He guesses that Gon would try to find the gentlest possible way to say that yes, it sucks and black is not Killua's colour at all and could he please go back to normal as soon as possible, thanks, and that he didn't said anything to begin with was because Gon was just too kind for that. Hell, he's probably been wondering how to gently break it to Killua all this time.
A minute passes and when he doesn't get any answer he looks up. Gon is staring at him with what Killua can only describe as discombobulated look. Then, fast as lightning, golden-caramel eyes narrow and Gon takes one big step to crowd Killua up against the edge of the table.
He squeaks in surprise, going up into the tip of his toes and leaning away from Gon's sudden looming figure.
"Gon wha—"
"Killua."
Gon's voice is low and intense when he speaks, sliding like mad honey into Killua's body and making something heavy and warm unfurl in the depths of his stomach.
"If you tell me that for the past three days you've acting weird about your hair is because you were worried that I didn't like it—"
"You just brought me hair dye-remover, Gon!" He huffs, indignantly. The way Gon's heavy gaze settles on him laser focused, so intensely, makes Killua's skin crawl with want. Involuntarily, his hands go up to curve along the strong biceps bracketing his frame, holding on tight.
"Because you have been saying how much you hated it—" Gon shakes his head in disbelief. "You washed your hair a billion times since Sunday, Killua! I thought you hated it!"
"W-well, I do hate it!"
"Then why are you suddenly so—?" Killua thinks he can actually hear the gears clicking and sliding into place in Gon's head. The look on his face upon realising that no matter how much Killua tries to pretend otherwise, he cares about what Gon thinks. A whole fucking lot.
Naturally, Killua's face floods with red in embarrassment. He has no time to dwell on it thought, because suddenly his head is being tilted up, fingers griping tightly on his hair, and Gon is kissing him; open mouthed and hot from the start.
Killua's head spins with the unexpected onslaught but his body, as if by memory now, moves at its own accord: legs going up and around Gon's waist tightly; arms linking behind his neck, pulling Gon closer and head tilting aside to deepen the kiss.
When they break apart, Gon moves straight to the hollow of his throat to taste him, nosing under his jawline and breathing Killua in deeply, as if his smell was the most enticing scent in the world. Killua trembles, dizzy with the sudden want settling over him like a weighted blanket.
"Killua, I want you to listen to me very carefully—" Gon murmurs hotly into the shell of his ear while Killua's heart kicks up and races. "You are the most beautiful creature that I ever seen—white hair, black hair— you could be fucking green for all I care—" The curse word sends a jolt down Killua's spine, and his legs flex, hips inching forward with no input from his brain. His mouth opens in a silent gasp. "You have no idea what you do to me—you have no idea ho much I want..."
"Gon—"
Killua's hand flexes, pulling at Gon's hair tightly, the slow simmer of want in his gut finally boils over and spills out, taking over. He crosses his legs behind the small of Gon's back, reeling him in and smashing their lips together again, the sweet groan of appreciation that rumbles out of Gon's chest is overwhelming and spurs him on even more. Abruptly he feels hot, strong hands grabbing at his tights and the world is shifting, Killua suddenly upright again as Gon walks them both blindly through the hallway towards the bedroom, without breaking the kiss.
"You are gorgeous—you are perfect—I love your white hair but the moment you walked through that door, Killua—oh God—" Whatever Gon was about to say get's lost in the deep low moan he lets out when Killua's tongue traces around his neck to the back of his ear; the salty skin and the taste of Gon invading his senses, flooding his mouth with want.
They stumble around blindly, Gon with one hand outstretched to feel his way and the other firmly under Killua's ass, holding him up and tight around his body.
Killua's back hit the wall and he moans, frantic, wanting Gon's hands to touch him all over, but unwilling to part from him for even a second. They move together like waves rising with the tide, bodies pressed close, so so close but is not enough. Killua wants more, always wants more and Gon always, always gives.
At some point his feet his the floor again and he registers himself muttering "Off, off—get these off—" tearing at Gon's stupid running shorts and his equally stupid shirt, ungracefully tripping over his own feet when Gon's knees hit the floor with a dull thud and tanned hands yank off his boxers; but he doesn't care, he doesn't care about anything at all but the way Gon's mouth stretches around him, the warmth engulfing him whole and the slick of Gon's tongue running up and down his length.
Killua's toes are curling up, his abs clenching involuntarily, his voice is pitching higher and higher, getting caught in a litany of Oh fuck, oh fuck, Gon at every breath and he can't stop—
His fingers clench hard into one side of Gon's shoulder, imprinting the tanned skin there with half crescent moon marks as his left leg get tossed over the other side while Gon opens him up and devours him whole.
Killua feels incandescent, lighting up hot and bright: burning from the inside out. He weeps, crystal clear tears rolling down his face and pearly white tears of overwhelming pleasure hitting the floor at each swipe of Gon's tongue on him.
"Please—I can't, I—" He chokes on his next words as Gon pauses to breathe. Killua is inarticulate and nonsensical whilst Gon's damp breath hits him in the place he's the most sensitive. "Gon, please—" he begs, unashamedly, on the brink of flying away. Of falling apart.
Gon blinks up at him slowly, eyes blown, lips red and wet, so absolutely fucking gorgeous Killua's heart clenches painfully tight. "I love you," Gon rasps, teeth pressing softly in not-quite-a-bite into Killua's overly sensitive skin, "White hair—dark hair—I love you, Killua," Gon moans out, hands busy in Killua's body, pressing in and twisting and making him loose his goddamn mind. "—love you, you're mine—no matter what, you're—"
Killua keens, his knees giving as his body jerks forward, curling into Gon until his forehead touches sweaty coarse hair; black curly strands dripping with sweat as he pants, and twitches and falls apart into Gon's arms.
In mere seconds, Killua's world shifts once more and he finds himself laying flat, a beam of late morning sunlight blindingly illuminating half of his face and Gon's muscles moving under his fingertips: hot skin in contrast with the cold hardwood floor is at his back. Killua can barely breathe with how good he feels, hair sticking in clumps around his forehead as Gon presses in, slowly, carefully, finally home inside him.
Killua kisses Gon again and again and thinks yours, fiercely, I'm yours, no matter what—
When they finish—drenched with sweat and worse; clothes strewn all around and Gon still inside as Killua's heart slows down, Gon says, raspy and soft: "This is what you do to me Kil, all the time but especially—" he fingers some of the mated black strands carefully, lovingly, and Killua's eyes, bright like early morning skies, follow his movements silently, basking into the caress.
"You didn't said anything," he finally murmurs, after a small eternity.
"Just because you seemed to dislike it so much...I didn't wanted to make you feel bad about it." Gon says, gently. Then cheekily adds, "I do love the black on you, thought."
Gon smiles, shifting carefully out of him, soothing the frown of discomfort in Killua's forehead with a soft press of his lips. "But more than anything, I love you. No matter what."
They lay there on the floor, side by side, with their bed just ten feet away. Neither move for the longest time though. Killua breathes in and out slowly, accepting the warm feeling expanding around inside his ribcage, filling every hollow crevice within his body; feeling so good he thinks he might explode from it.
He tucks his red face into the curve of Gon's neck, and his lips curve into a smile; like a secret between him and Gon's body, even if Gon himself can feel it. "No matter what." he breathes back and settles in.
*
"C'mon, we should take a shower—I'm starving, Gon what are we eating?"
"Take away?"
"Take away."
"Uh...Killua? Should I bring this?"
"Nah."
The sound of the box hitting the table is forgotten as soon as Killua dips his head under the warm spray of the shower, Gon following close behind.
*