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*
"Wow, you look miserable."
Killua startles so bad he almost drop the glass he’s holding all together. He turns his head sharply, venom already collecting on the tip of his tongue when he's suddenly faced with the most beautiful human being he had ever seen is his life, holy shit.
He's there, in front of Killua, leaning casually in the cheap sticky-with-beer and god-knows-what-else wood of the bar counter, all olive skin and broad shoulders, looking at Killua with crinkled, gentle eyes. The smile stretched on the stranger's face let's Killua really know that he did not meant to be an asshole at all.
His eyes drop to the somewhat dirty vans his guy is wearing to his tight-fitting black jeans and the murky green plain t-shirt stretched around what Killua guesses is a spectacularly toned pectoral, fucking wow—and get stuck in the most enthralling, hazel-golden eyes he's ever
seen.
He fights the urge to turn around and check if he is really the one being spoken to.
"Hm. Not much of a talker, are you?"
Ok, yeah, Killua may be a little bit drunk but his usually sharp mind has been stunned into silence for once. He's probably staring like an idiot. He's probably making the most unattractive gaping face right now, oh my god.
In his momentary panic, the connection from brain-to-mouth gets completely fucked and whilst he’s thinking Why are you even talking to me but also please continue, what comes out is a very toneless and flat:
"What the fuck do you want?"
He sees the guy's grin kick up a notch and turn into a sharp little smirk and Killua has the horrible sinking feeling that he's been made fun of.
Of course. A guy like that, talking to a guy like him? Not that he's hideous or anything, Killua looks good he knows—but he's not on that level of good.
He feels his face shifting, trying to appear cool and unaffected by the extremely attractive individual still staring at him very intensely.
"Oh, just wanted to talk. You looked like you could use a drink—maybe even a friend."
Killua snorts, placing his drink on the bar and leaning his head in his hand. "I haven't seen you around here before."
"Oh. So you're a regular here then?"
"You could say that. My name is Gon, nice to meet you."
A hand was extended in front him. Killua's eyebrows went up in momentary surprise—who uses handshakes nowadays, jeez—but he dutifully extended his own, pale fingers gripping the warm tanned hand before him. Such a sharp contrast. "Nice to meet you."
After a few moments of silence, the guy—Gon—tilts his head and regards Killua again, all traces of mirth from his expression melted off into an intense, darkened eye stare, making Killua's skin feel suddenly tight.
"So, are you going to tell me your name or should I keep calling you Gorgeous-Guy in my head?"
"What—" Killua sputtered, going red all at once in embarrassment. Him? Gorgeous? What.
Gon grinned again, a million jenny smile but the heavy weight of his gaze remained. "Well it
would be nice to know your name—especially if I'm taking you home with me. However, that works too. Or Hot Guy At The Bar—I guess that's also fitting."
"Going home with—" Killua repeats, faintly. OK. Right. He was officially in the wrong timeline where insanely attractive hot guys not only talked to him, but also refer to him as gorgeous and gave him bedroom eyes.
He glared at his beer, wondering if anyone had the chance to slip him any kind of drug—
Gon's hearty laugh pulled his gaze up and he found himself getting stuck in his warm eyes yet again.
"If you want to of course."
A step closer and Gon's thighs were brushing his knees, his voice dropping into a murmur. Killua swallowed, gaze dropping to the lips in front of his face.
"How about I get you that drink and we see how that goes, hm?"
All the neurons in Killua's brain fire at once—he feels warm all over and the stuffy, alcohol-scented air of the bar coupled with the slight buzz he was already riding before Gon approached mixed with Gon's sudden proximity to him.
He breathes, heart kicking up a notch but not in fear, he realises. In excitement—he is intrigued, excited by the prospect of what’s being proposed to him.
Against his better judgment—and that little traitor voice always lurking in the corner of his mind—Killua finds himself murmuring a faint "OK."
*
They end up doing shots and getting two insanely alcoholic cocktails—Killua is glad to be able to use his slight intoxication to his advantage: he has an pretty high tolerance but he managed to work himself into a pleasant, giddy buzz.
Of course, Gon's disarming demeanour and sunshine-y smile had a heavy hand on easing his anxiety and only a couple of hours later he finds himself completely forgetting his early melancholic mood.
He is aware that a faint red flush has permanently made a home into his face since Gon, instead of sitting down next to him, has parked himself in between the bar and Killua's slightly open knees, subtly letting his hands casually touch and graze there while he talks.
The subject of their talk is kept light, Gon often leading and Killua interjecting when he feels like it or most of the time keeping quiet when the sound of Gon's voice carries more weight than whatever he is saying.
Gon is very funny, but mostly, he’s a shameless flirt, Killua realises. He's also earnestly sincere in every compliment he gives Killua.
"—It's not everyday someone dressed like that, and looking like you comes around. I would say never, in fact." Gon is saying when Killua finally tunes back in. He, predictable, flushes redder than he already is.
"Christ. Do you always say whatever you're thinking?"
Gon only gives him an impish grin.
"You don't have any filters, do you?” Killua marvels.
"Of course! How would anyone know what I'm thinking if I don't tell them, huh?" Like is just so simple.
Killua sometimes wish for people to simply know shit, just so he will not have to talk about them but then he remembers that the inside of his mind is not somewhere he'd like anyone to approach with a ten-foot pole so he gives up on that thought real quick.
"...But yeah. My sister and I moved here a couple of months ago."
"Awesome." Gon enthuses. Both of his hands drop into Killua's knees at once, warm and heavy through his suit slacks. He sucks in a deep breath and wonders what would happen if he were to cross his legs behind Gon's back—pull him closer.
"I hope the city is treating you well?"
Killua—distracted as he is with the fingers sliding back and forth on his skin—takes a minute to process and stammer out a very faint Yeah, we are settling up well—
He does not get to say anything else because suddenly, there are hands sliding up on his thighs and Gon is closing in on him. Killua fumbles with his hands—he has nowhere else to put them but for Gon's shoulders— while he tries to lean backwards, keep at least a little distance between them because they are in public, holy shit.
"What are you—" He hisses, frantically looking around the bar. There are a lot of people around, in clusters, or crowded around tables enjoying their drinks and having drunk-loud conversations over the even louder music coming from the crappy speakers.
Some of the people are dancing to the beat and others are just bobbing their heads along but none of them are paying attention to what's happening at the bar. Not even the people at the counter waiting for a drink pay any mind to the man being crowded in his seat by another man.
"We are in the middle of the bar—there's people around—"
"No one cares," a voice murmurs, right into his ear and Killua's stomach bottoms down fast, a breath escaping him as his finger close in tight in Gon's shirt. His head is suddenly buzzing—empty of any thoughts besides shit, oh shit, what the fuck—and his skin is hot and tight on his limbs.
"I don't know how it was like where you come from—but…look around, gorgeous. No one cares, here."
Killua's body twitches closer in spite of the mild panic overcoming him. As if on its own accord, his legs do cross over and lock behind the back of Gon's tights when Gon's lips land on his neck in a soft, barely there kiss. His eyes move around frantically, surely with all those people here, someone is bound to notice at any moment—someone will say something at any moment now but literally, no one is paying them any mind at all.
He's still tense but shivers all over when he feels
the tip of a nose sliding up his neck. Gon's hands are now around his waist, warm and bunching up his dress shirt. Killua feels like he’s on fire. He feels his pulse kick, machine-gun fast under his skin; feels himself be set alight, something slick and hot slithering in his stomach.
No one is looking their way. No one cares that there is a guy about to make out with another guy in less then ten feet away. In public.
He's about to be k—
Gon kisses him then, and Killua’s eyes grow comically large. He goes tense like a coiled spring, fight or flight still waring in his head for about five seconds but somehow, against the panic building within him, against his every self-preservation instinct he just...let go.
Killua gives in.
And before Gon can pull away, a soft, breathy sound escapes from his mouth—it sounds like surrender, like relief—into Gon's and then they are kissing in earnest.
Killua's blood rushes in his ears, deafening. The way one of Gon's hands curls possessive and strong on his hip and the other tangles in his hair makes him shiver, skin breaking out in goosebumps as he tilts his own head to deepen the kiss.
Gon has gotten impossibly closer, further crowding him in his stool but Killua suddenly feels is not close enough. He wants Gon closer. Killua wants him, skin to skin, under him while he drives Gon mad with pleasure; wants Gon's stupid gorgeous face to contort and go slack with the power of Killua's touch alone.
Killua wants. He wants, he wants.
He finally remembers himself, remembers where they are—when they break for air and the noise of the crowded pub rushes back at him, louder than the way both him and Gon are panting. He still have his fingers framing Gon's face. The molten caramel eyes have gone dark with something, and are stuck in his lips. He holds Gon firmly back when the tries to go in for another kiss—the little frustrated huff he lets out gives Killua a sick sort of joy.
He's not the only one affected here.
"Come home with me, gorgeous? Let me take you—"
"Killua." He interrupts, eyes glued into the rosy colour of Gon's lips, mind taken over by the thought of kissing him again. Of tasting every inch of Gon's skin. "My name is Killua."
Gon leans his forehead forward, touching Killua's, and their noses brush briefly. His smile is sweet and earnest when he says,
Come home with me, Killua
and Killua breathes out a Yes.
*
With the door closed behind their backs, Killua feels himself let loose and give in into the fucking tornado of sensations around him.
When Gon pulls him close by his ass and grinds onto him, hot and heavy, he lets out a sound. When he crowds Gon into the back of the couch and Gon goes wiling; falling backwards, landing in a heap and laughing at his own silliness, Killua finds himself staring at him.
At how fucking beautiful Gon really is: all mussed up in his clothes, hair standing up in disarray from Killua's wandering fingers, the one sock still on whilst the other got lost amidst the chaos of their make out session—something hot and dark blooms inside Killua.
He feels the shift in the atmosphere; Gon's playful demeanour changing when Killua starts rounding the couch slowly, midnight-dark eyes glued on Gon, on his body. He can see Gon shivering and Killua wants that under his fingertips, wants to feel that on his tongue.
His mouth floods and he drops to his knees in front of Gon.
He caresses Gon's face slowly, thumb rubbing his lower lip and pressing in a little, unsurprised when Gon gives and open his mouth; sucks him in.
Killua moans, low and dangerous.
Gon hums, eyes closed and enjoying himself as if Killua's fingers were a treat. He lets them pop out of his mouth when he feels Killua's other hand land low on his navel, toying with the button on his jeans. Killua is completely hypnotized by him, enthralled, trapped into whatever spell Gon casted that is making him act like this—so reckless, so unlike himself, following his instincts and desires with no fear for once.
"Yes—please—Killua."
Even when it has been so long since he last done this, he cannot deny how much he wants it.
The feel of Gon's skin is salty-hot on his tongue, heady with desire. As much as he is nervous about it— really? Killua? Blowing a guy he just met in a bar? Unheard of!— it is impossible not to recognise the thrill of excitement running through his veins.
The little moan he lets out at the first taste of the olive skin on his tongue is all the proof he needs.
The way his hands curl heavy on Gon's hips to hold him down when the man moves—it all makes Killua burst within himself with excitement, with hot adrenalin, with desire.
The feel of a heavy hand on his head, Gon's voice above him murmuring indistinguishable words/sounds/phrases and the full blown moan he lets out when he hits the back of Killua's throat—it’s too much, not enough.
Killua pops in for air but keep his hands on Gon moving, stroking, and spreading the gush of precum around his shaft. Gon is looking at him with wide, blown-out eyes, almost black with pupils but for a hint of brilliant gold around them.
He looks, quite literally, blown away.
"Holy shi—" Gon breathes, while Killua licks his lips to taste Gon's flavour from around his mouth. "You—Killua—"
"Yeah?"
Gon's fingers twitch on his hair, his head falling backwards heavily; stomach tensing in pleasure while Killua twist his hand on the upstroke and presses the tip of his fingers delicately on his taint with the other. Gon gives a hiccupping laugh, a breathy Oh God! and his body rolls into Killua's hand like a wave.
"'s good—hnn…Killua—"
And Killua feels emboldened by the reactions he is getting—heady with power, compelled to make Gon even more sweaty, more incoherent.
Gon is looking at him again, eyes hot, bitten lips now open while he pants and Killua throbs between his legs, where he lies hard and neglected. It’s the first time ever that Killua is not keen to break eye contact with someone, so he slowly lowers his head down again, tongue out.
"Killua's so good—how are you so good—Oh."
He dives right back but instead of going straight for the hard cock in front of him, he goes lower, licking Gon's balls softly, takin them in his mouth and sucking—gauging Gon's reaction. The body under him tenses, strong tights locking up and squeezing Killua's shoulders while Gon keens high and breathy.
The olive skin under his fingertips breakout in goosebumps and Killua cannot supress his own shiver—he's doing that. He is the cause of Gon's pleasure.
"I can't, Killua, l-I can't hold—I’m gonna come—"
Gon sounds frantic and Killua revels in it. He debates the merits of stopping altogether, teasing Gon a little more, drawing it out—after all, he doesn't want the night to end so early.
But the way Gon's voice breaks, oh so sweet, in his litany; his body taut and tense and high strung, desperately yearning for relief…the relief that only Killua can give him right now, compels him into keep going.
The thought of it is heady and intoxicating. Killua power trips on it even without meaning to.
He takes Gon all the way down again, throat closing on the head while he supress his gag reflex. The sounds are obscene, loud, wet and rough. Gon's body, all glistening hot flesh and muscles— seizes up and curls forward, into Killua.
The hand on his hair clenches impossibly tight and Killua moans, feeling it all the way down his own erection. It leaks and stains the front of his expensive trousers and it throbs angrily in a way that makes Killua think that this is it—he is going to come; untouched, in his own boxers like a teenager, holy shit.
In his surprise, he yanks his head off of Gon—too fast, he really didn't mean to—at the same time Gon twitches and comes hard.
Ribbons of pearly white land all over Killua's fingers, soaking the back of his hand, his face. He is breathless with arousal, the sight of Gon coming undone by his hands, the feel of Gon's release in his skin.
His tongue automatically comes out to taste some of it, thumb idly swiping across one cheek bringing in more.
"Shit—sorry, sorry, I got it all over your face—"
In spite his attempts to apologise for coming all over Killua's face, Gon looks wide-eyed and awestruck and not very sorry at all. Still, Killua preens under his gaze. He is barely holding on there and the way Gon keeps staring at him is not helping the matters at all.
"'me here," Gon says but doesn't wait for Killua to move at all, pulling him forcefully by his half opened shirt.
He lands on Gon's open legs, right into the wet spot of Gon's messy orgasm but he chokes on the protest—Gon is licking Killua's hand clean with broad swipes of his tongue. A low, throaty sound its ripped out of him, unbidden.
Killua's face, already flushed goes vibrant red in a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Gon hums and pulls him closer still, getting at the mess on his face.
Killua scrunches up his face, unsure of how to process the fact that Gon is licking him clean—
like a dog, and most importantly, that he's liking it. "Oh my God, stop—" he squirms and end up hissing in confused pleasure when his erection rubs against his pants and oh, yeah he's still hard as fucking rock.
"Shh, don't worry," Gon is murmuring, hands busy running over Killua's hair, his neck, his shoulders. "I'll take care of you now, Killua."
Gon tears at his shirt when the buttons don't give fast enough, prying it off Killua's torso and discarding it carelessly on the floor. The pads of his thumbs rub slowly over Killua's nipples, making him gasp and rock foward, seeking more. He feels the wet spot in his trousers getting bigger the longer Gon toys with him.
The idea of coming in his pants ceases to be embarrassing and becomes more and more appealing in his desperation.
Gon grabs him by the hips and pulls him in hard, and he moans in frustration, the friction of his clothes in his sensitive skin is too much and not enough at the same time. He needs to get them off his body before they melt on his skin.
He feels himself burning from the inside out, breathless, lungs tight with the desire to come he's been hard for fucking forever and he needs to come, he needs to—
"Gon—" he chokes, past the point of caring at how desperate he sounds. His fingers had locked themselves into the nape of Gon's neck and he buries his head into the glistening body in front of him. He mouths under Gon's jaw, tasting salty sweat; feeling the heated skin there, the rumble of Gon's moan under his lips and hands.
"I'm gonna make you come, Killua—" Gon is saying in his ear, dark and low, hand finally finally closing around Killua's cock, squeezing. "I'm going to make you come and then I'll make you hard again and we are going to fuck—all night—"
Every single muscle in Killua's body goes taut with tension and Killua is suddenly there. He's there and he's tipping over the edge, the liquid heat in his stomach finally bubbling over, overspilling, thick and hot over Gon's expert fingers. He's still rocking into his hand, mouth open in a silent moan—trying to breathe. Twitching, whilst Gon goes on murmuring hot filth into his ear.
He pushes away from Gon's neck at last, shaky and still buzzing with such an intense high he doesn't know what to do with himself. Killua feels his hair dripping with sweat over his face, his eyes. He feels drool and fuck knows what else cooling on his heated cheeks, around his mouth.
He must look like an absolute mess right now.
Now that the hazy cloud of desire has lifted somewhat, Killua no longer feels flush with the confidence he had just a few moments ago. He can feel his face growing hot under Gon's gaze... can feel himself growing awkward and tense again.
"Gorgeous—absolutely fucking gorgeous, Killua."
"S-shut up!" Killua ends up muttering in surprise, head turning sharply to try and hide the little pleased tilt of his lips. He can feel a big, shit-eating grin being pressed into his jaw, Gon rubbing his face on his neck and breathing him in. He shivers all over.
"You are so cute."
"'M not—"
"Good. That was good. Let's do it again sometime—in fact, right now, lets do it again right now."
*
They did.
And then they did it again, and again. At some point Killua even thought he died and ascended, body and mind overcome with pleasure. By the
time Gon pushed into him, maddening slowly— pressing Killua up on the wall, pillows squished and bent between Killua's knees— it was all he could do not to go out of his mind.
Gon's bed didn't have a headboard he could grab on to so Killua scrambled for purchase against the wall, sweaty fingertips curling up and sliding against it and feeling weightless, like he was about to fall apart, fly away.
He arched his back sharply when Gon's cock stroked him inside in all the perfect ways, crying out hoarsely. Gon's tanned and thick hands grabbed at his thighs for leverage while he pressed in deep inside. Killua's whole being melted, pleasure dripping off his skin.
One hand pushing up against the wall, back into Gon's thrusts while the other reached backwards, grabbing at the back of Gon's neck, Killua forgot to be self conscious, forgot his surroundings, forgot himself and tilted his head back; singing his pleasure out into the room while Gon's hot mouth and tongue mapped the muscles of his shoulders, the curve of his neck.
He trembled and gasped and sobbed while Gon pulled out and spun him around, pulling him down on the bed— sliding right in again.
Sweat dripped in Killua's eyes, stinging, mixing up with the tears already there. Gon kisses him again, chanting that's it, that's it, c'mon Killua-ah-ah, sliding out slowly and ramming right into the spot that clouded Killua's vision and made stars burst and rain down on him. His body locked, arched perfectly into Gon's arms while he came and came and came, world-shattering and never ending.
Gon's last thrust before he came, pulsing against Killua's walls send electric currents of toomuchtoomuchtoomuch down his veins, frying every nerve ending on his body and sending him into darkness.
He came to as Gon wiped him clean, humming comfortingly as he worked, carefully tilting Killua on his side, sliding his fingers softly up and down his spine, bringing Killua back from whatever place he went just now, grounding him back to reality.
Killua was exhausted, dead. Worn out and frayed at the edges— bones like jelly and thrumming with satisfaction.
When Gon fell asleep mid-sentence after their last orgasm, Killua thought he too, would soon be following him into dreamland.
Not that he really really planned to but he ended up too agitated to sleep—even the (three? four? honestly, he lost count) magnificent orgasms he had tonight or the soft shuffle of Gon slumbering peacefully beside him wasn't enough to quiet Killua's loud mind. When the pleasant buzz of alcohol faded, he was left alone with his thoughts.
It kept going round and round, repeating the events of this evening. Play by play. Wondering what made Gon approach him in that crowded bar in the first place. What if he'd done this instead of that and so on and so forth.
It was hurting his brain.
Wondering what would happen in the morning when Gon awakes to a stranger in his bed. Would he act awkward around Killua then? Would he look for subtle ways of telling Killua to piss off already, who even stays untill the morning after a one night stand—? Jesus.
Killua certainly doesn't. Never has before, doesn't know why on earth he'd even considered doing differently now.
He turns in bed slowly, looks at Gon. His features have softened, mouth slightly opened while he breathes softly. The contrast on his olive skin in the white sheets is stark, even with barely any light. Here, surrounded in darkness and in the warmth of the bedcovers Killua thinks again how insanely beautiful Gon really is.
Something soft, barely there flutters inside him and Killua feels suddenly breathless—choked up.
When the small room starts to feel even smaller, the once comforting darkness of the moon-less night turns stifling, the weight of Gon's arm, draped around him it's too much—
That's when he decides to dip.
He can't be here, thinking those things and feeling those feelings. No. Just no. He just had a fun one night stand with a nice —and fucking hot, don't forget that—guy and now its back to reality for him.
So he goes around the apartment silently, picking up his pants, socks, shirt and getting dressed in the living room. He's quick and as quiet as he can be, lest he wakes Gon up.
On his way out he sees a notepad with a sharpie stuck to the fridge. He pauses in front of it for longer than he'd ever admit, that little something inside him making his pulse quicken. He could leave his number. He could scribble it on this blank piece of paper and leave the choice to Gon.
Would Gon call? Would he—
No.
Killua put the sharpie back, turning around and walking out.
For weeks and weeks after that night (Killua's brain keeps referring to it as The Best Sex Of Your Life) he's light like a helium balloon. He floats around his routine distracted, thinking about that night, thinking about the sex...thinking about Gon.
He just... Killua has never met someone so...foward. So carefree in his needs. It's confusing. It's refreshing. It's strangely arousing.
Killua wishes, he too, could be so unashamed with his needs and desires, but alas, he never did have the power of choice, did he?
Nobody's ever asker nor cared about what he think or what he wanted. In fact, people actively discouraged Killua of wishing or wanting for anything that wasn't what he was being given already. He never had any choice.
Well, no one except Alluka. But that's neither here nor there. The point is (if there ever was one) that the random hook-up had marked Killua in ways he couldn't ever have predicted. He goes back and forth with himself between thinking he did the right thing in running away and hating himself for not have taken at least the minimal risk of leaving his phone number.
Worst case scenario: Gon would never call and Killua would know for sure it was just a hook up. Actually, worst case scenario would be if Gon would end up calling and they hooked up again
just for him to realise what a looser Killua really is. Honestly, that would be worse.
But the not knowing is messing with Killua's head more than he'd ever thought it would. Its like a little pang of regret every time he thinks about Gon (which are many, many times in a day).
He finds himself driving past The Whale Pub more times than he'd like to admit. Toys with the idea of going in and maybe bumping in to him again. Finds himself parked into the goddamn parking lot across the street in a random Thursday night for hours (like a creep) hoping to at least get a glimpse of him again (he did imply he was a regular, didn't he?), trying to gather in himself the courage to go in.
Alluka has started to do frowny/concerned faces at him in even thought he tries to act like he's not completely infatuated with a complete stranger he met once in a pub and had marathon sex with.
Even around the office, Bisky regards his behaviour with curiosity brimming in her wide pinkish eyes. He ignores it. He ignores it and talks himself into thinking about something else, finds a distraction, works more than he needs to just to keep his mind busy as much as he can.
He pushes it down, down, down to the box in the corner of his mind he reserves to the nice-but-unrealistic things and shoves is to the back of his head.
Because, in the end, Killua knows; he knows that that's what it was: an extremely nice thing that happened to him once and it will never happen again. He's grateful for it, really. He should count himself lucky to at least haven had the opportunity to have met someone so intriguing, so beautiful and so so hot.
So what if pictures himself opening that box and relieving some of the best moments of it late at night in the privacy of his four walls? So what if he thinks about what could have been, what if he'd left his number, what if Gon called back? In the end he ends up shoving everything back in that little box and pushing it away, resolutely ignoring the little twinge of regret that stabs at his heart every time he does it.
*
Killua gets back to his routine, gets pretty busy at work and prepares for his second big, tiresome, case he's been building for months and months. He ignores Bisky breathing down his neck to check upon his progress— and does not think about Gon.
He goes to cross examinations, depositions and finally the trial where he absolutely destroys the defendant— a large company that decided it was fine to dump their chemical waste in the small village's only water supply and cause hundreds of farmers livestock to get sick and die— and celebrates with his clients when they win the suit, feels proud and accomplished when he hands the check over to the farmer's co-operative, the amount of zeroes that won't bring their animals back but will at least help accost for their losses and make sure that they can rebuild their livelihoods.
Bisky brims with pride, congratulating him in his second big win, his accomplishments with this case and offers to take him out to a celebratory drink and he lets himself be taken to a quaint little restaurant to be plied with good food and an abundance of drinks, and he feels warm and fulfilled and so so grateful for her and Wing, for the huge opportunity they gave him and does not, does not, think about sparkling, caramel eyes, bright grin and scorching hot touch—
He gets Zushi— Wing's new paralegal intern— the new Greed Island game he's been drooling around for ages for his birthday and finally says yes to his earnest-big-brown-puppy-dog-eyes invite to a game night with him and a couple of other people from the office and pretends to be disgruntled when Zushi beats the crap out of him in the game.
He says no a couple of weeks later when Zushi tries to get him to go to this beneficent boxing match to raise money for the animal shelters in the area, Seriously, Killua, it'd be so much fun!
You can even meet my friend— he's one of the fighters, I swear he's built like a wall, all muscles and shi—stuff , (Killua absolutely does not think about another, olive-skinned, muscular body he'd touched not so long ago), but still pulls out a generous amount of money to donate to the cause and gives it to Zushi in lieu of his presence.
He sees that the rescue where they adopted Nanika from is participating on it and they more than deserve all the money they can get. Zushi boggles at the amount of bills and thanks him profusely, eyes brimming with gratitude and doesn't give Killua any trouble for declining the offer after all.
He goes home, goes for a run, pops down to check on Alluka and Nanika and goes for a walk around the block with them, stopping in their favourite bakery at the corner of the park and loading up on their home-made chocolate biscuits, a nice tea with a slice of cake for himself and Alluka while Nanika lays at easy, quietly at their feet.
He does not imagine himself with a different person sitting opposite him at all, does not imagine the dark hair gleaming in the sunlight, does not wonder what colour would it be or how nice would it be to see Gon, smiling, in the sunshine—
No he does not think of any of that. Ever.
Time slips by, and before he knows it, a year has passed. Killua can admit now that he thinks of that night more often than not. He still tingles with the sensory memory of it and still sighs with regret at his own cowardice in the end, but he doesn't dwell on it anymore.
Instead, he smiles, looks back at it fondly and thinks of Gon, all easy smiles and gleaming eyes and hopes he's OK, that he's happy.
Life goes on.
Killua drives slowly through the parking lot of the vet clinic, trying to find a spot to park. He's late, thanks to traffic but doesn't despair much because of Alluka's endless reassurance that yes, she'd called to let them know he'd be late, yes she spoke with the Vet doing Nanika's check up and he's more than happy to wait, and no, he's not annoyed that Alluka, unfortunately, won't be able to pick her up today but her brother is going in her place. Honestly, Killua, I'd be fine, stop fretting so much.
He finally finds a spot, parks and get his phone with him. His eyebrows rise up when he sees the fancy brick building with the Vet's sign on it and wonders how the shelter had managed to even partner up with such an upscale looking clinic.
The best in the whole York New, Alluka told him, once. He makes a mental note to ask Zushi if there's an ongoing found he could sign up for monthly donations to and walks inside into the reception.
There's not a lot o people waiting around so he goes straight to the counter to speak with the lady there. She's on the phone, looking a bit frazzled around the edges, typing away rapidly in the computer in front of her, eyes moving erratically.
He stands there awkwardly, not wanting to interrupt her work but when she notices him she pauses, features changing in a pleasant customer-service-smile. She asks the caller to hold for a moment, please, and mutes the call.
"May I help you?"
"Hi. Yeah. Uh." He pauses, wondering the hell is he being so awkward for when all he needs to do is give this woman a coherent answer. "I'm here to pick up my sister's dog? Nanika?"
The receptionist (Palm, he reads in the badge pinned to her uniform), tilts her head and frowns.
"Surname?" She asks, fingers poised on the keys.
"Zoldyck." She types it in and a second later she's nodding, overly polite smile back on her face.
"Ah, yes. Miss Alluka informed us you'd be picking her up today. Are you Mr. Killua Zoldyck? May I have your ID please?"
He hands his driver's licence over and tries not to demonstrate how unsettling her smile is making him feel. She types away a little bit more and then hands his licence back.
"Ah yes, Nanika is all good and ready to be back home. If you don't mind I will take you into Dr. Freecs's office, if you have a moment? He wants to discuss a change in Nanika's diet that may improve the issue with her dry skin."
"Sure." He says and follows her inside.
"He's just now bringing her up, he'll be with you shortly. Please do sit down Mr. Zoldyck." She says, politely showing him the small couch in the corner. He does as she says and breathes a sigh of relief when she leaves, immediately getting his phone out and texting Alluka to complain about how unnecessarily creepy this lady is.
He's in the middle of that when the door opens and in trots Nanika, all smiles and wagging tails in excitement to see him.
"Ah, Miss Alluka, what a pleasure to see you and Nanika again! I have just the thing to help with--"
Now, Killua loves Nanika to death with all his heart and some and usually, he'd be down on his knees to greet her, cooing and cradling her large, velvety face to his and letting her slobber all over his face in her smothering, doggy kisses. He would be scratching around her belly and letting her wiggle all around him in excitement while he called her a good girl, such a good girl Nanika, yes you are, any normal day, that's they usual routine.
Any other day that's what he'd be doing right now. Any other day, but not today.
Not today because he is halfway down, frozen solid as the vet's words stutter into a stop as the man stares at Killua with wide, surprised caramel eyes.
As Killua stares right back into the face of Doctor Freecs.
"...Killua?"
Doctor Gon fucking Freecs, holy shit.
"Gon."
*
Killua is really glad that every instruction Gon gave him regarding Nanika's new diet is written down in paper. He's really glad because he would not be able to remember a single
goddamn thing about the most awkward vet appointment he'd ever had in his life.
He will not be able to remember anything other than the fact that Gon, his Gon, the most charming; foward and hot guy he ever met in his life (whom Killua had decidedly not thought about, day and night, for the past twelve months straight) is right in front of him again.
Right in front of him. Moving around and saying things and acting like he hasn't starred in all Killua's fantasies for the past year. Like he hadn't given Killua the best sex of his entire life. Like he hadn't left phantom touches and ghost sensations around Killua's body with his own fingertips. Like that one night stand hasn't altered the brain chemistry in Killua's head to the point of no return.
Except. Except he's not acting like that at all.
Even thought Gon is trying to keep everything professional and casual his eyes keep lingering around Killua's face and lips and neck and wow. Wow. If Killua could close his eyes he'd still feel those looks like the lingering touch of Gon on his skin.
He's been rendered speechless by the mere presence in front of him, reduced to small Yes or No's answers to all his queries, tong tied with all the things pressing around in his mind, begging to be let loose. Begging to be said.
The I thought about you every single day for the past year, and I regretted leaving, and I'm so scared of seeing you right now because you make me feel things I've never felt before for any anyone, and the I was a coward. I still am. I'm so scared of facing my feelings that I rather pretend that it was all a dream. That you were a dream, are on the tip of his tongue, threatening to escape every time he opens his mouth.
His heartbeat is so loud in his ears is a wonder Gon can't hear it.
He bites his lips, curls his hands into tight fists and pretends he's not about to burst with all those things inside his mind. When Gon awkwardly stands to show him the door he follows suit, stiffly and awkward. His stomach drops when he realises that this is it, he's going to turn around and run away and probably never see Gon ever again and if he could just not be such a coward, if he could just say something—anything—
Gon turns around abruptly, hand dropping from the door handle and gaze fixing on Killua's for a small eternity, looking, searching, untill he closes his eyes and breathes in.
"I'm really sorry. I know this is a professional setting but I can't—"
Killua's heart kicks up, mind screeching to a stop at the shy, almost afraid look in those brilliant golden eyes.
"I had the most amazing night with you." Gon says softly, sincere. "And I won't ever speak of it again if you don't want me too, I promise it. But Killua, it was good. It was so, so good and when I woke up and you were gone, I..." Killua swallows, huge eyes glued to Gon's, unable to look away. Something small and warm flutter inside his stomach, growing and growing and spreading at Gon's words.
"I ran away." Escapes from his mouth. "I couldn't—I had to."
Gon blinks, the surprised look melting around the edges to give way for something softer, understanding.
"I thought about it—about you— I couldn't get you out of my mind." A cautious step closer and Gon is in his space again. Killua doesn't move. "I looked for you at The Whale every night for a long time. You never went back there, did you?"
I almost did, Killua's mind yearns for him to say. I wanted to, every night but I was afraid of seeing you again. Afraid of not seeing you again. Afraid of anything and everything that makes me feel like you did—
He shakes his head, breathing picking up as he finally loses the frail grip on his feelings and whispers, "I know—Gon—" Now that he started, Killua finds himself unable to stop. "I'm sorry. For running away. I regretted it, ever since. I couldn't stop thinking about you—"
"Next time," A hand touches his, tentatively and soft. He doesn't pull away. Their fingers interlock. "Next time you feel the need to run— would you take me with you?"
Killua closes his eyes tightly. His mind buzzes with static at the same time his heart beats painfully against his own ribcage. He wants. Killua wants so much he longs for it. He clenches his fingers and tugs on the hand holding his— oddly, for the first time in years, he's not trying to break free. He's not trying to get away. Killua is sick and fucking tired of running away from all the good things that happen to him— and pulls Gon closer. Pulls him in.
Gon comes willingly into him, arms encircling around Killua in an all encompassing embrace, making him realise that Gon's heart is beating machine-gun fast inside his own chest, matching Killua's beat for beat.
Surreal. He feels, again, like he stepped into a parallel world, feels his own body relax into that embrace again, feels his heart and mind pulse with an overwhelming feeling of hope.
And he couldn't do anything else but surrender to it.
"Okay." He breathes. "Yeah. Yes."
*