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Cool winds hit Leorio’s skin, and he mentally curses his habit of kicking the sheets off his body even in the coldest climates. Back home, Leorio didn’t know anything of cold weather; his country was a place where the blazing sun would beat down unrelentlessly over his village. There was no need for luxuries like blankets.
Blonde tufts of hair poke out of the duvet cocoon, concealing a well rested assassin.
“Share. It’s cold,” Leorio says gruffly. Even with his harsh voice, he gently tries to pull some of the covers over to him, agitating his sleeping bed-partner.
Kurapika doesn’t open his eyes, but Leorio could see blonde brows furrow into a disgruntled expression.
“Come on, you’re the one who likes sleeping with the windows open.”
“And you’re the one who always kicks the blanket off the bed,” Kurapika responds sleepily.
Mornings like this are rarer than Leorio would like. Having a day off is basically a luxury, and Kurapika being in his presence during his limited relaxation time is even more scarce. Yea there’s a whole laundry list of things he should be doing, but that can wait. For now, he annoys Kurapika further. He pulls the blonde towards him, relishing the warmth, the relaxation, the false domesticity of it all.
Kurapika only sighs. “Since you woke me up, I really should get ready,” he yawns and sits up
Leorio doesn’t say anything, he only tangles his arms tighter around his partner.
“Leorio, I mean it,” Kurapika says agitated, although he doesn’t try to put up much of a fight.
“No. Stay,” Leorio says stubbornly. His tone is playful, yet his heart still feels like it’s being crushed by the thought of Kurapika leaving. The pain lessens with each leave, but the uncertainty and worry never quite goes away.
“I wasn’t supposed to even stay the night,” Kurapika argues.
Leorio ignores Kurapika’s protests. His hands wander along Kurapika’s body, fingertips possessive on the familiar figure.
“Leorio...,” Kurapika says with warning.
Again, the doctor doesn’t listen. Heeding Kurapika’s words was never really Leorio’s forte anyways.
Leorio’s mouth make contact with with the pale skin he knows so well, and he could feel Kurapika shiver underneath him.
“Leorio—,”Kurapika groans, his voice much different this time. Kurapika relinquishes any thought he has of leaving and succumbs to staying with Leorio for the rest of the morning.
The doctor’s praises come in the form of rough breaths and whispers, his declarations of affections are said with harsh kisses and bites. They both sink into the mattress together, the one place that feels safe and familiar.
They’re in bed past noon in the room that they made their home. Traces of Kurapika line every corner of hardwood floor. His discarded belt lay on the surface next to their bed, and his wrinkled suit a couple of inches past that. The usual meticulous blonde lay disheveled and completely vulnerable underneath Leorio, and all Leorio wants is to have more of these moments without having to worry how long Kurapika will be away this time, or if he’s ever coming back at all.
Leorio longs for a future where time doesn’t feel like it’s running out. But he enjoys every moment he has with possibly the person he loves most.
He thinks to himself “this is enough.”
“I could see you in a tie and blazer a million times and still, I’d never get used to it,” Leorio comments.
The suit did differ greatly from the oversized sweaters Kurapika often wore back in the day. Yes, he looks much more prim and proper, more dignified. However, with all the sharp looking expensive wool linen, an essence of Kurapika was lost along the way.
“Well get used to it, I don’t see myself changing uniforms any time soon,” Kurapika replies back.
He cuts his sentence short, noticing the resonating silence Leorio has given him. Being a hired bodyguard was the farthest thing from safe, and the underlying reason for his profession was basically a suicide waiting to happen.
Leorio tries not to think about the negatives. Kurapika is here in front of him. That’s all that matters for now.
“Come here, your tie is crooked,” Leorio beckons after the pause of silence.
“No it’s not,” Kurapika responds, not even bothering to look down and check.
As always, Kurapika is right. There’s not a string of fabric out of place. Still, Leorio gets up from his sitting position and looms over the shorter man, trying to adjust the already perfect tie.
“I know. It was just an excuse to get closer to you,” Leorio confesses. “Why can’t you ever play along for once?”
“Why do you feel the need to use an excuse to get close to me?” Kurapika retorts.
Leorio responds by bending down and placing a chaste kiss on the assassin's lips.
“You get more flustered when I do this by surprise,” Leorio smirks, feeling fulfilled at the pink that dust Kurapika’s cheeks. Kurapika’s embarrassed huff only fuels his gratification; it’s not every day he loses his composure.
There was just something oddly satisfying knowing he’s done everything under the sun with the younger male, yet these small, intimate actions are the one thing that never ceases to catch Kurapika off-guard.
Leorio strokes Kurapika’s cheek, trying hard to mask the disappointment in his face. Like everytime, he fails to do so. He can’t help the ache in the pit of his soul, not knowing the dangers of where Kurapika is headed to. “Call me okay? Text me. Send a pigeon. I don’t care, I’ll make sure I’ll receive it.”
“I won’t have to, I’ll be back soon enough,” Kurapika reassures him, but his face is stone cold. Leorio can immediately tell Kurapika doesn’t know when he’ll return either.
Leorio kisses the top of Kurapika’s forehead, trying not to get frustrated at his friend’s passive answers. “You know the drill. Don’t be stupid, don’t get yourself killed, stay safe,” the words flow so effortlessly to the point where he can talk past the lump forming in his throat. He wants to cry. Ever since becoming a doctor his need to cry intensified tremendously, but he composes himself anyways.
Leorio’s acting does nothing to ease Kurapika. The assassins eyes are downcast, his overgrown bangs aid in hiding his guilty expression.
“Sorry to put you through all of this,” Kurapika says, almost sheepishly. “I know this isn’t what you wanted—”
“Shut up. I don’t want to go through this conversation every time you visit. Kurapika, I wanted this, in fact, I still want this.”
“And what exactly is this?” Kurapika scoffs a little too bitterly for Leorio’s liking.
Leorio can feel a tiny bit of his heart break because he can’t answer. He doesn’t know what this is. He doesn’t know what they are when they’re together. He doesn’t know what the future holds, or if Kurapika will even be around ten years from now.
“I don’t know Kurapika. You’re always the one with all the answers,” Leorio tries to laugh. It’s hard to be happy when Kurapika will be gone in a matter of minutes. He cranes his neck down and places his own forehead against his best friend’s. “I don’t care if we never put a name to what we are, no matter how much I hate the circumstances we’re in, I care about you. I would rather have you around for two seconds in the whole year than not have you at all.”
“I can’t promise you anything for the future, I can’t promise you I’ll eventually stop trying to hunt down the troupe, I can’t even promise my safety or that I’ll even come back alive. Why would you choose to stay with someone who refuses to plant roots? Why are you such an idiot?,” Kurapika says irritably. “Why torture yourself waiting around for me when you have the option to be happier with somebody else?”
“I don’t know,” Leorio replies honestly.
“I feel like I’m holding you back from everything,” Kurapika says with spite in his voice. “Back then, you used to hit on every available girl you could find, yet for some reason you’re choosing to subject yourself to someone you can’t even have most of the time.”
Leorio scoffs at the past example of his character. “First of all, a man can change. Secondly, what’s the point of going after someone else when you don’t want someone else. Kurapika, I’m not going to just drop everything and move on unless you can prove to me you don’t want this anymore, because I can confidently tell you that I want this. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.”
Kurapika takes a deep breath in response, knowing arguing is futile. They’ve been through this argument so many times, and every time their misaligned paths are never fair.
Being around Leorio is a ghost of the life he could’ve possibly had if circumstances were different. For now, he can only experience teases and glimpses of what could be. Yet, something far stronger than any emotion pulls him away from Leorio, and Kurapika knows how unfair and toxic his obsession is. Still— no one but him alone can understand the guilt and the horror the rest of his family had to face while he made it out alive. No matter what anyone tries to do, only he can carry the trauma alone.
He’s tried and failed to push Leorio away, and a large selfish part of him knows he cares about Leorio too much to let him go. There’s both an elation and sorrow knowing how unrelentless Leorio is, how no matter how long he is gone, there will always be someone on the other end waiting for him. No matter how much blood is on his hands every time he returns, Leorio is always there, waiting. He uses Leorio as a way to ground himself, to show that somewhere deep inside him, there is some humanity left.
On impulse, Kurapika grabs Leorio’s hands and moves it to his face, leaning into the touch. Leorio’s hands is possibly Kurapika’s favorite thing. They’re warm and strong and calculating. His fingers are rough for a surgeon, but skilled nonetheless.
“I should get going, I’m already late,” Kurapika says as he presses his lips against Leorio’s palm. There’s a part of him that doesn’t want this bloodlust to go away, and another part that wants what he has with Leorio to be enough. Whatever path he chooses, it’s painful either way.
Leorio gently guides Kurapika into a kiss that's slow and languid. In moments like these, Leorio likes to pretend they have time, like they don’t have to rush anything. He could never enjoy these “see you soon kisses” when all of then feel so tentative.
This time, Kurapika doesn’t blush. His mouth remains in a solemn frown.
“The only thing I can offer you right now is verbal proof that I want this. When everything is done, I want to come back to this, permanently.”
Leorio can only smile forlornly.
This will never be done. No matter how many people Kurapika kills to get to the troupe, this revenge goes far deeper than physical victories. If Kurapika manages to kill all of them, when they’re all dead, will it be enough? Will the anger subside to the point where Kurapika can finally heal, or will it only cause him to further spiral down knowing that there’s nothing left for him after?
There have been so many instances where he would beg Kurapika to see someone, to help him move past his obsession. All efforts remained fruitless, and would only end up with Kurapika lashing out with words he never meant to say. There have been only so many times before Leorio decided that he could not help a person who refused help.
They both try to make goodbyes uneventful, both thinking it will hurt less.
It doesn’t.
It seems that the more Kurapika leaves, the more he’s itching to go back to visit. For a brief second, the thought makes happiness burst into every vein in Leorio’s body, but it’s dampened by the harsh realization that this life isn’t enough, he knows he himself is not enough.
Still— he hopes one day he can be.
Until that day comes, he takes life one step at a time. Life doesn’t stop every time Kurapika leaves.
Anyways, there’s a clinic to run and a very tall doctor orchestrating in the center of it all.