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Killua took another step, holding his breath as tremors ran up his shattered right leg. The snow that had gotten into his boots worked most of the way in eliminating the pain, but the crunching whenever the slivers of bone shifted was disconcerting. He ducked his head against another hard gust of snow, holding his arm out in front of him to protect his eyes. There was nothing but hard rock here, hard rock and ice, and therefore nothing to cut down the blizzard’s violence.
The wind shifted suddenly, blowing at his back and sending him reeling forward, every other step a sharp shock up his hip. He dropped his arm and squinted as he looked ahead. Yes- there, the dark spot he had noticed before: a gap in the rock face where a piece had fallen out, creating a natural shelter easily big enough for a person. He ducked his head down again, pushing forward with single-minded determination.
Alluka knew his approximate location, of course. He didn’t go on solo missions without letting her know where they were, he wasn’t stupid. And any nen user should be able to detect him up here as he was likely the only large source of nen for miles. She had better track of their friends than he did, honestly. He’d always been an efficient planner, but that didn’t make him an efficient communicator. He had, after all, trained to work alone.
Killua tucked himself into the alcove the moment he reached it, leaning his left side against the wall. He twisted his head to free his mouth from behind the guarding cloth, biting into his thick glove to peel it off. Killua fished out his phone with already bitten-red fingers; he struggled to type with numb digits.
“COLD” was all he managed to send before his fingers started trembling too much to be useful. That was fine. She knew his code. He blinked at the flashing low battery sign. The cold must have drained it. He wouldn’t get a message back from her before it died, probably. Hmph.
Killua pushed the phone into his pocket, tugging his thick scarf back over his face before pulling his glove back on and curling into himself, readying for a long wait (or a forever sleep.) He thought his luck would hold out, though. Alluka hadn’t seemed the least bit worried when he’d told her where he was going. Better wait than mess up his leg any further.
The snow, almost imperceivable against the endless grey clouds and white grounds, steadily rose, threatening to entomb him in the small space. Pushing himself further back into the space, Killua hiked up his wool scarf so that it covered his eyes as well. He curled totally into a ball, wrapping his arms around himself.
He had made enough allies over the years, hadn’t he?
Releasing his breath, Killua rested his thick hat against the rock wall and tried to rest.
The blizzard continued into the next day, and by the time the final snowflake had fallen, Killua’s natural shelter had been entirely hidden by a blanket of white, a pocket of air inside the snowbank that slowly ran thin. It trapped the heat in there with him, at least, and he took slow, shallow breaths as he semi-dozed beneath the snow.
A shaft of light cut down onto him. The wind blew in, blasting against the revealed curve of his neck. Killua blinked slowly, muddled. He pawed at his scarf, pulling it down to squint over its edge. More of the soft white wall before him collapsed downward, showering his legs and feet. He shifted backward, tilting his head in confusion. A silhouette cut through the beam of light, a long dark face and broad shoulders made broader by a padded coat. It shifted and melted before him, and he stared at it without comprehension.
“Hi, Killua,” he thought he heard, but it was distorted and underwater. Slowly, the snow around him was carved out by his rescuer. Killua’s lungs filled at the next gust of wind, accepting the fresh air. He heard the voice again- it was amused, lilting in a way that made him relax almost immediately, but he couldn’t quite separate any of the words. Arms reached down to take him, gathering him into a hard chest. He turned his head against the frigid wind, tucking it into the hunter-green coat beneath his cheek.
--
The way back down the icy mountain was slow and treacherous. Though they had been blessed with blue skies, the blanket of fresh snow dissimulated the uneven ground. Gon had to pick his steps carefully, unable to use his hands as he cradled Killua close to his chest. It was slow work, exceedingly slow, and it was clear they wouldn’t make it back down to civilization before night fell. If Killua regained full consciousness at any point during the trek, Gon didn’t know. Killua didn’t seem to stir, his right leg dangling oddly against Gon’s forearm.
Gon spotted a dark shadow on the cliff face around the time the sky started to turn violet. A spot without snow? It was enough of a lead to follow, and he carefully picked his way along the edge of what might turn, at any moment, into a sharp slide. Gon was the sure-footed sort, though. And he reached the dark spot before long. Snow had fallen away from the edge of the cavern, the shine of its dark rock dull compared to the white blanket around it. More than that, the collapse had revealed a long, deep crevice in the cliff, easily wide enough for a bear to enter. It was open at the top in places, but the farthest end was totally covered.
Unfortunately, it was inhabited. Gon crouched a little as he walked, keeping his steps slow and even. The hibernating bear snuffled, and Gon paused, but nothing further happened. That was fine. He wasn’t averse to roommates. It just meant he shouldn’t make a fire.
Gon sat down slowly, bringing his knees up so that his thighs held Killua upright for the moment. He unzipped his overcoat and reached forward to unzip Killua’s, too, when two gloves closed around his hand.
He peered up, smiling when two cracks of blue stared back at him. “Gon?” Killua slurred thickly, limp against the puff of Gon’s pants.
“Hi Killua,” Gon answered softly, gently unzipping Killua’s jacket too. Killua let him, his arms unresisting, his head rolling along Gon’s knees as he stared at him. Gon unwound Killua’s thick scarf, revealing bright red cheeks and watery eyes, Killua squinting at him as his breath puffed out white.
“Usually you’re thirteen when I hallucinate you,” Killua commented through numb lips, blinking up at Gon. Gon’s eyebrows arched, a smile pulling irresistibly at his mouth. He opened Killua’s coat up to his sides and nudged him forward with a tap of his knee. Killua collapsed forward obediently, slipping his arms under the line of Gon’s coat and wrapping them around his waist, pressing his cold cheek into the wool of Gon’s sweater. Gon pulled his coat around the white-haired boy, locking it in place by wrapping his arms around Killua’s back, holding his own elbows.
“Why’s that?” Gon asked quietly, his head twisting up to stare at the darkening sky through the gaps in the stone. Killua shrugged against him, and Gon wondered if the heat on his chest was a sign that Killua had a fever or if he was just imagining it. The other hunter was a welcome weight against him, despite the cold, and he knew he shouldn’t be enjoying the situation but he kind of was anyway? Guilt edged in on the sides, but it was easily overpowered by the fuzzy warmth bleeding into him.
“It’s safer. ‘N I knew you better. Knew everything.” Gon’s smile melted into a different kind entirely, his eyes soft as he cradled Killua’s head against his chest, resting his cheek on the crest of Killua’s hood.
“What makes you think you’re hallucinating?” Gon wondered aloud,
“I’m cold, aren’t I? And when you’re cold you think of a warm place.” Killua chortled against Gon’s chest, a puff of hot breath that reached through the wool to the heavy cotton underneath, blooming over Gon’s skin. Oh, yeah, definitely a fever. “Warmest place I know…” Killua mumbled, sagging a little more along Gon’s torso.
Gon was silent, staring dumbly up at the sky, incapable of tampering his elation. Was this cheating? But then, when would he get another chance to have this conversation with Killua? He was always loud about his displeasures but silent about his interests. Killua rose and fell with every breath Gon took, hardly moving. Was he asleep again? “Safer, huh?”
“Mmhm,” Killua answered, a rumble of sound that surprised Gon. He tilted his head up, one blue eye staring up at Gon suspiciously. Gon smiled helplessly down at him. He definitely had a fever of some kind, the contrast between his pale skin and the pink burn across his cheeks vivid even in the faint light. “Who knows what this Gon has experienced.” He huffed dramatically, cuddling back into the warmth of Gon’s sweater. “Or what he even wants.”
Gon blinked down at the bundle against his chest, letting his hand drift down the curve of Killua’s back before wrapping his arm around him again. He hadn’t changed that much. He was still curious about everything and he was still- well, he still wanted to have adventures with Killua, right?
Gon sighed, shifting against the wall so that he was a little more comfortable. Maybe he should’ve fed Killua first. Hm. Tomorrow. He shut his eyes and relaxed into sleep.
--
Gon woke to two eyes squinting up at him from against his chest, Killua’s hood knocked askance so that a puff of white hair stuck out. “Are you real?”
“Hi Killua,” Gon answered cheekily, a grin stretching across his face. “I think so.” Careful so as not to jostle Killua too much, Gon slowly stretched out his right leg. It flared with sensation, prickling painfully. He gritted his teeth, wincing, and followed with his left.
“That’s going to be embarrassing later,” Killua complained in a way that struck Gon as strangely lucid. Had he imagined the fever after all?
“Why?” Gon asked, chuckling, his eyes creased into happy crescents.
“You know why,” Killua huffed, planting his burning cheek against Gon’s chest again. “‘M fucking cold.”
“Do you want anything to eat?” Gon asked, carefully shifting Killua’s weight to access one of the many pockets in his cargo pants. He ripped the wrapping away from a nutrition bar with his teeth, holding it invitingly towards Killua. The white-haired boy didn’t look up, mumbling a refusal, so Gon ate it himself instead. He gave his legs a few more moments to regain feeling, glancing over at the mound of dark fur at the very back of the crevice. It seemed their neighbor had slept on. See? Nothing to worry about. He rewound Killua’s scarf around his neck, making sure to hide all the delicate skin.
“We’ll keep going, then,” Gon told Killua, shoving the wrapper into the same pocket. He used the wall to keep balanced as he gathered Killua up and stood. Tension lined his eyes as the rest of his body came awake, prinkling like fire, but he carried Killua out all the same. Gon knew a broken leg when he saw one.
--
Picking his way down the mountainside was much easier on day two. By the time the sun reached its zenith he had reached a line of trees, so he didn’t have to worry about sliding too much, and soon after that the elevation flattened enough to make a walkable path. They were off the mountain completely by nightfall, and Gon let them into a little log cabin. He set Killua down on the one, small bed before shutting the door. It cut down the sound of whistling wind, the sudden lack a sort of sensation within itself. Gon tossed his gloves onto a storage chest and set about lighting a fire, using some of the cut wood stacked against the far wall, under the window. It took awhile for the flames to leap from the starters to the thick logs, and just as one stopped smoking teasingly and finally burst alive, Killua hobbled over to sit next to him. He leaned his sweat-slicked forehead towards the heat as he tugged his scarf loose.
“Hi Killua,” Gon greeted him with a smile, prodding the burning log closer to the others with a black poker.
Killua harrumphed softly, squinting as he stared into the fire. He snuck a glance at Gon out of the corner of his eye, rubbing a knuckle against his dry mouth. “Is this real or am I dead?”
“Still real,” Gon laughed.
Killua reached out to strike Gon lightly on the shoulder. When Gon stared back at him quizzically, he shrugged. “Making sure.” When Gon didn’t answer, Killua peeled off his gloves and held his bare, red hands to the fire. “...You know,” he continued after a period of muddled thought, “if you want me to stop thinking you’re a hallucination, you should probably avoid opening with the exact same thing every time we have a conversation.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gon cackled. Yes, he was definitely enjoying this too much. But how couldn’t he? He always found grumpy Killua a little more charming than he should, and he was in full irritated-cat form right now. “Are you hungry yet?”
“And stop asking me expository questions.”
Gon blinked. “Huh?” His grin turned a little embarrassed as he scratched his cheek. “I don’t know what that means.”
“That’s just what a hallucination would say,” Killua grumbled in answer, tipping forward. Gon caught him with a hand against his chest before Killua could collapse, and he hung there like an annoyed kitten, frowning at the floor. Gon gently guided him back into a sitting position, shifting closer to hook an arm behind Killua’s back, supporting him. “If I make something warm, will you eat it?”
Killua’s nose wrinkled. He glanced around the cabin, though he hardly seemed to take it in, casing doors and windows but little else. “I guess,” he huffed. He tried to pull his legs up and froze suddenly, his eyes wide as saucers, tension zinging up his spine.
Gon’s hands tightened reflexively around Killua, and he grimaced guiltily. “Sorry, I didn’t have anything to make a splint.”
Killua slowly blew out his breath, willfully forcing the muscles in his throat to relax. “What happened to your fishing rod?” he challenged, taking it as further proof that Gon wasn’t real.
“It kinda broke,” Gon confessed with a smile, rubbing the back of his head.
“It broke? I thought you said you only used it with Shu since you cracked it that time.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Gon agreed. While they talked he swept his gaze over the cabin, forming a plan. “But I was in zetsu at the time and I couldn’t switch fast enough to save it. Do you think you can hold yourself up for a little bit?”
“Who do you think I am?” Killua sulked, immediately offended. He turned his head up in a huff, his hood collapsing backwards.
“Sorry,” Gon apologized, laughing. He slowly withdrew support, a hand hovering near Killua’s shoulder until the last moment just in case. His first move was to pick up the storage chest from before and set it right behind Killua, draping one of the thick blankets from inside the box between the wood and Killua’s coat before asking him to lean back. Then he moved to the other side of the cabin, pulling a few bags off the shelves. He poured rice into a pot, rinsing it once then filling it with water again. He hung the pot over the fire and came to sit next to Killua again. He leaned back on his hands, stretching his legs. The heat felt nice against his face.
“Where even are we right now?” Killua asked suspiciously. He had sunk a little, and his pushed-up coat hid his mouth from view. Gon smiled helplessly at the sight.
“This cabin belongs to a friend of mine.” He turned back towards the fire, the flickering flames bright in his amber eyes. “When Alluka told me where your mission was I decided to surprise you afterwards. Lucky us, huh?”
“That would explain Alluka’s behavior…” Killua remarked aloud to himself, chewing on the side of his index finger. “Maybe you are real.” Gon reached out to grab Killua’s hand, lowering it to the ground. He kept it there, too, his palm heavy and dry atop Killua’s. Killua looked down at their hands, then up at Gon. His eyes were big and fever-bright, tenderly uncertain. Gon squeezed his hand, sitting up closer to bump their heads together. Killua’s temple was wet with beads of sweat and definitely hot to the touch.
Gon grimaced. Should he have made soup instead of rice? He shed his coat, finally, and patted Killua’s brow with the sleeve of his sweater stretched over his fingers. He stood up right after that, fetching Killua a glass of lukewarm water. He made sure Killua drank all of it, and after that the other Hunter seemed to go right back to sleep, propped up in front of the fire.
Gon found himself strangely satisfied with how comfortable Killua still felt sleeping near him. And even if it was only because Killua didn’t believe he was real- it warmed him that Killua would conjure him in moments of weakness. How could he not like it?
--
Gon made the rest of their meal peacefully. He spooned most of the rice into a bowl for himself and returned the rest to the pot, which he filled with water again. Soup for Killua. He threw in a couple of stock bones from the rabbit he’d caught a few days ago and left on ice. On second thought added the rest of the meat, too. He’d eat the dried fish instead.
He sat near Killua as he ate, waiting for him to stir again, but Killua slept on. Ah, well- time to do something useful then. He slipped out of the cabin and hunted around for straight pieces of wood. It hardly took him more than ten minutes, and he cheerfully went about cutting four of the sticks down to the length of Killua’s lower leg.
Actually splinting it would be a little more complex. Judging from the way the flesh bulged in places, both Killua’s tibia and fibula had snapped in several places. Gon knew a reasonable amount about medicinal herbs, and had broken plenty of his own bones, but that didn’t exactly make him an expert in minimizing damage. Still, it should be fairly simple, right? He didn’t need to rearrange the bone fragments into their ‘correct’ location, just stop the limb from bending in newly awful directions.
Gon tipped Killua forward against his palm very gently, slowly unwinding the broad wool scarf from around Killua’s neck. He placed him back against the wooden chest, surprised that Killua didn’t wake. Careful, he lifted Killua’s broken leg and settled it in his lap. He wound the scarf around Killua’s ankle once before placing the first two sticks on either side of the limb. He made sure to keep the scarf taut as he slowly wrapped it up Killua’s leg, ensuring that it held securely, taking great care not to jar anything. He felt comfortable enough to raise Killua’s leg a little higher, placing the last two sticks on the front and back and coiling the scarf around those, too. It ran a little short, and with no proper way to tie it he was forced to stuff it into itself. He grimaced, glancing around the cabin.
It did belong to a hunter, after all, maybe-
A breath-stealing kick to the chest pulled his attention to Killua, and he smiled at the twin crescent moons peering at him. “I made you soup, want some?” Gon asked, unsticking Killua’s bangs from his sweaty forehead.
Killua’s fever-bright eyes stared back at him, confused and suspicious.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled, carefully depositing Killua’s leg back on the floor before busying himself with ladling a bowlful. He set the hot meal on Killua’s lap. Killua took the spoon between his fingers, but instead of eating he just poured the soup back into itself, staring at the clumps of meat and grains of rice swirling in the pale liquid. “Everything okay?” Gon asked curiously.
Killua’s mouth tugged back at the corners. His eyes narrowed at the sound of the liquid pouring back into itself. “I’m trying to decide which parts actually happened. Was there a bear?”
Gon grinned widely, giggling a little. “Yep, that was real.”
Killua’s expression immediately flattened, and he dragged a hand down his face. “Seriously?”
“Mmhm!” Gon slipped the spoon from Killua’s unresisting fingers. He tipped it into the soup, slowly filling it from the side so that it was all broth. He held it up at an easy height for Killua, watching the tip of the spoon to regulate it. “Here, see if you like the taste first.”
Killua inched forward, blowing on the steaming liquid. Gon tilted to compensate, following the movement with his head, his eyes entirely focused on the soup. Killua cautiously slurped some of the liquid- Gon tipped the rest into Killua’s mouth, giving him the choice between drinking it or letting it run down his chin. Needless to say, Killua drank it.
“So how does it taste?” Gon asked, glancing up at Killua’s face. Killua stared back at him with wide eyes, his breath held in his chest. He rubbed his curled fingers against one of his flushed cheeks, leaning away from Gon. The dark-haired boy blinked, tilting his head, a bemused smile softening his face. “Are you okay, Killua?”
“See?” Killua hissed acidicly, hiding his face behind his sleeve as he jammed a shaky hand through his hair, “this Gon, not safe!”
A perplexed frown bent Gon’s brows. He pouted, hurt by the implication, and dropped the spoon back into the bowl of soup, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know what I mean,” Killua screeched unhappily, his hands flattening on either side of his head. Gon’s hand shot out to take the bowl of soup from Killua’s lap, just saving it from tipping over and spilling all over his snow pants. “Are you telling me nothing is different for you?”
Gon rubbed the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly. “Like how?”
“Like… like how?!” Killua sputtered. “You’re- you’re like six feet tall! And your voice is, you know, down here. And-- you do know what puberty is, don’t you?!”
“What?” Gon laughed, surprised. “Of course I know what puberty is.”
“Exactly!” Killua shouted. He winced at a spike of pain through his eye and immediately planted his red face into his hands.
Gon’s eyebrows arched. He wouldn’t necessarily say that Killua was blushing- he was flushed from fever, after all- but he was definitely embarrassed. Gon found that strange. Literally everyone went through puberty, no? Why was that scary? “I still don’t get it.”
“Just give me the soup,” Killua growled, snatching the bowl from Gon’s hands. He hunched over it like a goblin, shoving the spoon in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to speak anymore. Gon let him, quietly watching him out of the corner of his eye.
--
Gon woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. His hearing tuned in first, immediately zoning in on shivery puffs of air. He sat up from the pile of blankets he’d made on the floor, amber eyes flicking immediately to the small bed. Killua was curled up in a tight ball under the comforters, his teeth chattering.
Gon slid closer, crouching by the side of the bed. Killua whimpered softly, his pale hands knotted together and held close to his chest. “I fucking hate fevers,” he complained to Gon in a ragged whisper, one blue eye cracked open.
“You’ll be through it soon,” Gon murmured reassuringly. He gently unstuck Killua’s wet bangs, brushing them back out of his face. Killua initially hissed at the touch, a hot shock to the system, but his head pressed forward when Gon went to draw back, seeking heat.
“I’m fucking freezing,” he continued, gnashing his teeth. “My shirt’s fucking drenched with sweat and it’s making it worse.”
Gon blinked. “I can fix that.”
“Wh-”
But before Killua could complete his protest, Gon slid an arm under Killua’s back and lifted him up into sitting in one smooth movement. He pushed Killua’s coat off his shoulders- the Zoldyck had chosen to remain in all his layers in a failed attempted to stay warm- before grabbing the hem of both sweater and undershirt and peeling them off. They were, indeed, wet. Killua immediately wrapped his arms around himself, trembling violently. Gon peeled off his own wool sweater and tugged it onto Killua immediately, trapping his arms around his chest. Then he wrapped his arms around the ball that was Killua, holding the body against him, and eased them both down.
The bed wasn’t really big enough for two. Gon tugged Killua halfway over him, rubbing his hands up and down the boy’s spine to warm him up and absorb some of the sweat off his body into the wool. “Better?”
Killua grumbled wordlessly in response. He settled over Gon’s torso, his shivering slowly subsiding.
--
Gon woke on his side, plastered against Killua’s back. His arm rested heavy over Killua’s waist, holding them together. His front was very warm, his shirt sticking to his chest. He could… unstick it. But first he would have to release Killua and- really, the bed was so small, if he backed up he’d probably fall right off. Best not to, right? Right.
Gon shifted forward a little more, pressing his nose into the crook of Killua’s neck and shoulder. The skin was overly warm to the touch, but not slick as Gon had expected. Killua’s breathing was deep and slow, comfortable. No reason to move, then.
Gon was too alert to go back to sleep, though, so he puzzled instead. It was the first time Gon had gotten the chance to spend time with Killua without Alluka around since he’d woken up in the hospital after the Chimera Ants debacle, and though of course he liked Alluka, things were different without her around. They didn’t have to be as careful. He didn’t have to be as careful.
But was there something Alluka had buffered that bothered Killua? Why was he worried about Gon? What had he said- what did this Gon even want?
To spend time with Killua, obviously.
“Soup,” Killua croaked. His hand batted at the arm around his waist. Gon immediately disengaged, slipping out of bed and crossing the small cabin.
“Hot or cold?”
“Now,” Killua answered crossly. Gon bit his bottom lip, smiling, endeared by Killua’s bossy grouch. He filled a bowl and carried it to the sick boy, who forsook the spoon to drain the whole thing in one go. Afterward he sighed contentedly, collapsing backwards into the bed. “Nice.”
“Feel better?” Gon smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. He pressed the back of his hand against Killua’s forehead. It was a little clammy but not especially warm. Killua made a soft sound, turning into the touch as Gon’s palm skated over his cheek. He murmured an affirmative, flushed pink, shyly watching Gon through his lashes.
“Good,” Gon smiled. His thumb brushed against the edge of Killua’s mouth, erasing a smear of broth. Killua’s cheeks flushed heatedly, his eyes widening.
“Do you mind?” he squeaked, tugging the collar of Gon’s sweater over his nose.
“Do I mind what?” he asked softly, tucking a lock of hair behind Killua’s ear. He held Killua’s shocked blue eyes with a tender gaze, threading his fingers over and over through his hair.
Flustered, Killua looked away. Gon leaned in a little with a friendly grin. He hooked a finger around the collar of the sweater, tugging it back down and revealing the rest of Killua’s face. He was definitely blushing rather than flushed from fever.
Puberty, huh?
“Am I making you nervous?”
“What?!” Killua hollered, offended. “No! Shut up!” He punched Gon in the shoulder, glaring vaguely at his chest. His whole face had gone red, the flush crawling down his throat. Killua’s pulse sped, a drumbeat Gon didn’t have to try to pick out.
Gon’s smile magnified. He leaned closer, his breath fanning warm against Killua’s lips. “What are you nervous about, Killua?” he purred, dragging the boy’s name out. Killua shivered beneath him, his breath catching in his throat.
Delightful. Well, Gon had always been one to go with his gut, hadn’t he? Still smiling, he leaned down the rest of the way, pressing his lips lightly to Killua’s.
Killua surged upwards, grabbing Gon’s shoulders and pulling them together hard. Gon obliged, flattening over Killua, eagerly accepting the wet slide of Killua’s tongue. They kissed messy and hard, bad angles and knocking teeth, and oh, oh did Gon not care, not care at all if it wasn’t perfect. Killua moaned, quiet and swallowed, his grip hard on Gon’s biceps and Gon grinned victoriously against his mouth.
“I’m definitely hallucinating,” Killua complained when Gon pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. “This isn’t real.”
“Your fever broke,” Gon pointed out, pleased, dropping another kiss on Killua’s slack mouth, then his nose.
“Are you tricking me?” Killua asked petulantly, bright pink and pouting. Gon laughed sweetly, his fingers tracing the hard line of Killua’s clavicle until it disappeared under the collar of Gon’s sweater, adorably over-large on Killua’s wiry frame.
“I hope not.” Gon laughed nervously, scratching his cheek.
Killua harrumphed, but he curled his hand around the back of Gon’s neck and tugged him down again. Their mouths molded together, more gently this time, puffs of hot air and curious flicks of tongue, slow, wet drags of flesh. Gon’s broad hands slowly eased the comforter out of the way so that he could crawl into the heat of the blankets with Killua. The other boy coiled around him almost immediately, their legs tangling together tightly. Gon tried to be careful of Killua’s broken leg but the boy didn’t make it easy, eager to get as close to Gon as physically possible. Killua rolled his hips forward and Gon gasped against his mouth, sensation zipping up his spine. “Killua…” he groaned, gripping Killua’s waist and yanking them tightly together.
“Fine,” Killua grumbled, annoyed and flushed and trying to get closer, closer, closer, his fingers sliding under Gon’s shirt and mapping the muscles of his back. “I guess you’re real. Whatever.”
Laughing, Gon kissed a pink ear. “I can prove it to you,” he offered in a low, throaty voice, his finger feathering against Killua’s stomach, feeling the flesh quiver under his touch, “if you want?”
Killua bit back a needy groan, his teeth sinking into the swollen flesh of his lower lip. “Might take more than once,” he breathed back, strained, trying to sound cool and relaxed, and utterly failing.
Gon pushed up the hem of their clothes, pressing their bare stomachs together, the tips of his fingers sliding under the waistband of Killua’s pants. “Seems to me you need a few days of rest anyway.” His lips trailed along Killua’s neck, teeth grazing skin. Killua choked, his hips jerking.
“How do you always get your way?” Killua complained, his voice ragged.
“Just lucky, I guess,” Gon replied brazenly, biting a kiss into the hollow of Killua’s throat. Needless to say, they didn’t leave for a few more days. For safety, you understand. Health and safety.