Chapter Text
Hisoka had said that enhancers were simpler and earnest. Back then, Killua had been so impressed by the sheer correctness of the assesment, as it applied to Gon, that he'd sort of taken the little verdict to heart. Like something that would simply always hold true.
Now he remembered that Hisoka had also called his method unreliable, and he understood why.
The Gon that was here with him now was still earnest in some respects, maybe, but the way he was acting made Killua think of himself. Killua had always been a showman; his loved ones eyes were his stage (or occasionally, his enemies' eyes), and it was in putting on a performance that he felt his most comfortable.
Gon had all but thrown himself into making himself Alluka's Big Bro, as she had called him. And while Killua was sure it was genuine-- and while he loved to watch Gon play and laugh and Alluka, while he even loved the way they'd join forces to prank and make fun of him even if he'd never admit that-- that didn't change the simple fact that Gon was focused on not thinking too much.
It didn't bother him, but it did make it clear to Killua that this Gon was not quite the same as the boy he had loved. He supposed that was fine; he wasn't the same person he was back then, either.
A sort of innate dishonesty wasn't the only trait Gon had picked up, either: he was weirdly fickle now, too. It was odd, to see Gon pick up all these traits he identified with himself. It was even odder considering what Gon was fickle about.
Namely, him.
It had been a couple of times now Gon had suddenly and randomly taken his hand, and after a few minutes suddenly dropped it. That'd be normal, but Gon couldn't hide the flux in his aura, the one that told Killua how quickly Gon grew into discomfort with these things, even if he was the one who'd started it.
It made sense, after all, and Killua didn't mind too much. Gon was back, and they were friends—real friends-- again. Even better, he didn't feel like he was lying to him anymore. That was all he could really ask for right now. Especially considering what Gon had told him...no, what he finally understood, it hadn't even ocurred to him to try and make things go in a romantic direction, even if part of him wanted it.
Once, Gon had saved him simply by allowing him to stay nearby. Killua had resolved, that first night they slept in the same bed again (Gon fitful but tired from the long trip to Heaven's Arena) that he would try to do the same.
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Gon hadn't really expected things to be like this. He figured he'd have come back, and then some way or another...things would have been like they used to be again. At least with Killua.
It hadn't really worked out quite like that, though. Of course there was Alluka, but Gon didn't mind that. Alluka was great, and fun, and it was nice to have someone around to make fun of Killua with. In a lot of ways, Alluka was becoming his sibling, he thought. Even at their best, he and Killua had never been like that.
Gon had also more or less expected Killua's confession. It wasn't like he'd known for sure, and honestly back in the day he hadn't thought about much at all...
But, well, he could tell when Killua was lying to him, or leaving something out. Once he'd started talking to Alluka, once he'd started looking back, it had been easy enough to guess.
What he hadn't expected was the entirely new way that Killua now caught his sight.
Gon himself had grown thick built and, while not quite musclebound, certainly wide. Big shoulders, thick arms and big hands-- Gon was taller than Killua, but only just enough for a small turn down of the neck in order to meet his eyes.
Killua, however, had grown differently: Killua was all sharp angles and cutting gait. He was long and graceful and lithe; everything about him seemed almost strung out, from the curve of his neck and shoulders to the digits of his hand. The way he moved was elegant when casual and brilliant when necessity demanded—Killua was the shape and body of lightning.
Sometimes, looking at Killua's hands made him want to take them in his grasp. Sometimes, he looked at Killua's eyes and saw something-- a spark he remembered seeing out of the corner of his eye in his memories. Like Killua was a live wire waiting for a touch, like touching him at the right time would get Gon electrified and alight.
The weirdest part had only happened twice. Twice now, Killua had been lounging on a bench or chair for too long—both times, they'd been clothes shopping with Alluka. Gon had kept his eye on him casually, when suddenly Killua would unfurl, stretching up and out like he needed to wake his body back up.
At those times, Killua's (regularly too tight) shirt would lift up, strained past its ability to cover him, and Gon had caught a glimpse of pale, smooth belly, soft-looking white hair like fur down from his belly button to the cut-off line of his jeans.
Gon wasn't sure what the thought of the image was doing to him, but he was pretty sure this was what it meant to be turned on.
Gon knew what it meant to be turned on only as it related to other people. Once, one of the weirder women had used the phrase at him just before things had gotten...well, uncomfortable to think about. Leorio had also used the phrase a couple of times, and while Killua hadn't, he'd understood it in conjunction with him from the movies he'd used to watch.
(Absently, Gon wondered with a twinge of annoyance if Killua still watched that kind of thing.)
But this was rather...new. He wasn't really sure what he wanted to do with the feeling. He knew the regular solutions well enough, but those were what made it a problem.
What would happen is, he would try to hold Killua's hand, and it would be nice for a while. But then the thoughts would creep in: How this might turn Killua on. The thoughts it might bring into his head. The things he might start to ask him to do.
It was frustrating. He knew it was his best friend, after all—he knew he was safe with Killua. And yet, the thoughts would come. And while Gon felt bad for being selfish, the idea of doing stuff like that because Killua wanted to made him upset. In his mind, it made Killua too much like the island women. It made him start to sweat, made it a little harder to breathe, and suddenly it seemed easier not to hold hands.
He wasn't sure what to do about this anymore. Was this just not stuff he was cut out for?
Or maybe this was just how it was supposed to feel.
If that was the case, Gon was screwed. He knew people sought this stuff out, but honestly, he didn't see the appeal at all. This just felt scary and weird and like everything was wrong.
He wished he could just want Killua back without being weird about it. He wished he was better. He wished that when it came to this it didn't seem like he had to try so hard.
He wished he was sure he wanted Killua, instead of wondering whether he just wanted to give Killua what he wants.
He wasn't sure what to do. And this wasn't like one of the regular problems, the ones you could fix by doing enough and trying hard enough. He'd thought he was going to escape from the problems with his thoughts, once he got away from Whale Island, but nope. Maybe getting older just meant things had to get this hard.
He wished he knew what to do. So he resolved to do what he always thought to do when he didn't know what came next.
It was time to ask Killua.