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01. wake
Sleeping gains a certain difficulty when you’re fourteen and in love with your best friend and he’s lying next to you.
Sunlight filters in through the blinds like a quiet melody, bouncing around the room and breaking into a million factions, unable to be dispelled. It comes by on top of the sheets, in little ways, catching the skin of a boy too bright to be anchored down, curving a golden halo above his hair. Mellowing the whole room, softening the corners, spelling out the shadows from hiding.
Killua’s eyes are already open, too sharp of a blue to be caught in the muted edges of the morning, and he breathes slowly, counting his breaths as if to savor them. He watches the boy next to him, easily caught in a dream, his lips loose with soft mumblings, looking the calmest he’s ever been. It’s hard to tame what’s wild, Killua knows, but sleep has always been the best at its trade.
Warmth fills Killua’s body from head to toe, and he lies contentedly on the sheets, letting the gentleness of the world wash over him. It’s not often he can have moments like these, not when danger is always on his toes, ready for him to trip on his own two feet. He can’t find it in himself to fall back asleep, though, not anymore, not when he can feel the thrum of the outside beneath his fingertips should he focus on it, but he lets it rest in the back of his mind for the time being.
He’s not used to being so calm.
Gon stirs in his sleep, mumbling something, and then he shifts closer to Killua, pressing his cheek against Killua’s shoulder, humming softly. His eyes blink open slowly, adjusting to the world around him.
“Morning,” Killua manages to say, amazed at the steadiness of his own heartbeat, how it’s managed to remain easy despite the closeness of the love it holds for the boy next to him. He looks away, hoping not to be accused of staring, a faint pink on his cheeks.
“Good morning,” Gon replies, voice still a little croaky, and he smiles, just as he always does, his whole face lighting up at the sight of Killua. “Did you have any dreams, Killua?”
Killua shakes his head. “I’m not really one for dreaming,” he says quietly, honestly. He doesn’t remember having a dream, not for a long time. He doesn’t really need much sleep, either, but when he usually does fall asleep, his body is too tired for it.
“Well, Killua was in my dream,” Gon says, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Oh, yeah?”
“We were being chased by a really big goose,” Gon says, and Killua can’t help it—he bursts out laughing. Gon follows suit, propping himself up on the pillow a little more, but still close to Killua. “It was really weird too!”
“I’m sure it was,” Killua says, and he listens quietly as Gon recounts his dream, another misadventure in the making. Gon’s voice is as sweet as the summer breeze through the windows, smooth and easy, and Killua listens less to the story and more to the way Gon’s voice moves over the syllables, a bridge between childlike wonder and teenage fluency.
I’m in love with you, he wants to say. I’m in love with you, but I don’t know how to tell you.
I hope you’ll let me stay with you.
02. forget
Here’s the thing about forgetting: it is long. It takes years and years and years to properly forget, sometimes without even knowing it. It’s cruel, and sometimes trying to forget lets even more pieces flood right back in, even more detailed than before. A terrible fate, shadows dancing, ticking time bombs. Forgetting is an old photo bleached by the sun, curled at the corners and covered in faded colors.
(There are a lot of things Killua desperately wants to forget. The smell of smoke in the air, the heaviness of his lungs, the taste of blood in his mouth. The way they’d won in the end, but it felt like they had lost just as much. The look on Gon’s face as he stood in front of a battered Pitou, barely even recognizable, life in his hands.)
Here’s the thing about love: it is short. It happens quickly, a fleeting affair, moments of warmth and happiness blurred into one film strip, too dazed to properly count the seconds, too lovelorn to remember that all things come to an end eventually. It’s what people hold on to, tightly without a plan of letting go, even when it gets too dark to see.
(There are a lot of things Killua desperately wants to forget. But none of them will ever be Gon Freecss.)
03. look
The first time Killua sees Gon, he is moving fast, skateboard under his feet, blinking back at a boy the same age as him. He watches, looks at eyes that he feels like he already knows but doesn’t, opening up his mouth to introduce himself before he can even understand why.
It’s not long before he learns that it’s always a whirlwind with Gon, a high speed chase at terminal velocity, without ever a sign of slowing down. One adventure after another, falling into pace, and speeding up, a fast track that he learns to keep up with.
“The sun sets so quickly sometimes,” Gon says, as the fire leaps and crackles, watching the view beyond him on the cliff side. The clouds float slowly over Whale Island, as pink slowly paints itself onto the sky, deep streaks bleeding into it. Orange creeps up on them as the sun begins its descent for the day, a promise for another time. There’s the slow tinge of darkness that’s making its way across the sky, the moon slowly beginning to appear. “The stars will be out soon.”
Killua hums in agreement. He watches Gon, with the rest of the world as his backdrop, bathed in the fading light. Skin turned golden, eyes turned fiery, brighter, an incandescence that Killua could never dream to touch. Icarus and his sun, far too easy to slip into self-immolation.
There are some things he learns to take slow, too.
Killua Zoldyck, easy to like but impossible to love, finds a steadiness in his own yearning. He finds comfort in it, in the knowing of another and in the loving of the heart, but there is no possible way someone else should know him inside out the same way, in all directions, upside down, from the deep end to the shallows. He is fine with going slow, without the rush of a heartbeat that doesn’t know its own limits. He does not ask for more, a border of unconditional, afraid to even whisper it to the wind should they take what he has away from him. He keeps quiet, keeps the yearning tucked away, somewhere Gon won’t be able to see it. He is fine with this pace. He won’t move another step.
“It’s so pretty, Killua,” Gon says, voice full of nothing but awe, eyes forward, and Killua nods along, still hopelessly enchanted by the boy next to him. These are treacherous waters, the whole matter of loving, and Killua tip toes on the balance between.
“Yeah,” he says, and his heart is full of a longing he cannot hope to bear. He will take this—this yearning, this bleeding heart, this hello-goodbye rolled in one—and he will take it slow.
The sun sets over the horizon, shrouding the world in a darkness illuminated by one last light in the sky. Pinpricks on a dark canvas, a fire slowly extinguished, a boy in love with another.
Watch, and you’ll find Killua won’t move at all.
04. lift
“Come on, Killua, it’ll be fun!” Gon says giddily, clasping a hand around Killua’s wrist, urging him on. “You and Alluka do it all the time! I wanna try it, too!”
“Idiot, she’s not as heavy as you are!” Killua argues, ears turning pink in embarrassment. He’s frowning, a small downturn curve, but Gon has a feeling he’ll give in eventually.
“Just for two minutes!” he pleads, pouting. “I’ll even buy you chocolate after! Or we can go to that ice cream shop you like!”
Killua considers it, squinting at Gon. “Fine,” he says after a moment, and Gon jumps in celebration. “But you’re paying for whatever I get, got it?”
“Yes, yes,” Gon says, and he lets go of Killua’s hand to stand behind him. “Come on, come on!”
Killua bends down, holding his arms out behind him. Gon wraps his arms around his best friend’s neck, and Killua’s hands go under Gon’s legs to hoist him up.
“Alright, you ready? Just hang on tight. Alluka says it feels a little tingly, so be ready for that, I guess,” Killua tells him, and Gon makes a sound of acknowledgement. “Here we go.”
In a flash, Killua activates Godspeed, and Gon feels shivers run down his spine. It feels almost like static in his bones, not too much to hurt, but enough to feel it. He laughs loudly, and Killua looks up at him with a grin.
In a flash of lightning, they’re off.
05. kiss
The first time Gon kisses Killua, it is soft and sweet and gentle. It tastes a little bit like chocolate, something like cotton candy, and a tinge of sea salt. There’s the way they’d held their breaths, caught in a dance in between anticipation and shyness, the way their noses bumped, lips touching only briefly, eyes squeezed shut in flustered determination to get this right, mostly because first kisses are supposed to be important, Gon. But it’s not perfect, not even close, and they barely miss each other, but it’s what they’ve waited for all this time and it honestly couldn’t be any better.
It’s okay, Gon says to Killua after, cheeks pink, but grinning. We didn’t get it right, but that’s okay. We can always try again.
(And again. And again and again and again.)
06. run
If Killua had fallen in love with the same pace as a lightning strike, it’s Gon who falls in love with the steadiness of a welcoming heartbeat.
It’s a few months into their separation that Gon realizes that he may have been a little bit in love with his best friend all along, and it’s with a gradual realization that he learns of it when they’re reunited, hitting him in the moments that he spends with Killua again, starting over and reconciling properly.
He finds himself with a love that won’t sit still, with one that runs and runs and runs until he’s left out of breath, having had to wait so long to properly bloom, a grown flower with an affinity for the sun. But Gon doesn’t say anything, not yet, because he doesn’t want to pressure Killua into anything he isn’t ready for—because it isn’t going to be like last time. Gon isn’t going to be selfish and take something that isn’t willingly given. After all these years, he’s learned to be patient, and he can be, for Killua. Even with a love that he holds in his chest, ready to burst—he tells it to wait just a little bit longer, please, only to come out if Killua is ready.
If love is all about waiting, then Gon is prepared to play the long game. He’s going to wait for Killua this time, make sure that they’re on the same page, equal footing, running at the same pace. He isn’t going to pressure Killua into something he doesn’t really want, no, he could never do that to Killua. This is something fragile, something he needs to be careful with, because people say that first loves never truly last, but Gon’s determined to see it through.
And so he waits, and he’ll keep waiting, until Killua feels ready, until Killua comes to him. And it’s okay, if Killua never does, if he doesn’t feel the same way, because Gon will learn to be content in his longing if he must, happy enough to even be able to stand by Killua’s side again, even after all the pain he’s caused. So it’s okay, and Killua can take all the time in the world that he wants, and Gon will be right there next to him.
Because love, he’s learned, is a matter of being. And being with Killua is more than enough.
07. flower
On Valentine’s Day, Gon presents Killua with three things: chocolate (he made all of it himself, it took him a while, but he tried to get it as close to Killua’s favorite as he could, and tied them all together with a silver ribbon), a bouquet of flowers (sunflowers for happiness, daisies for loyalty, peonies for beauty, and roses for love), and a letter (Gon has never really been good with too many words, but there are some things better written down than said aloud).
Killua accepts all three with trembling fingers and pink-flushed cheeks, stammering all throughout how Gon didn’t need to do any of it. Gon disagrees with him, of course, because Killua is important to him and deserves to know it, especially on a day like this one.
But Killua just shakes his head and tells Gon to his surprise that they should share the chocolate, and that he’ll get him back for it on White Day, and then they can switch again next year. (Gon’s heart skips at the promise of next year.) Killua thanks him still, a blushing mess through all of it, and presses a soft kiss on Gon’s cheek.
Gon grins at him, wraps his arms around Killua’s shoulders, and pulls him close. Killua laughs, and it’s the sweetest sound Gon has ever heard.
(I love you, the letter reads, in messy handwriting. You make me so happy. Thank you for staying with me.)
08. panic
Sometimes, Killua sees Gon.
Or, at least, he thinks he sees Gon. He’s nothing but a trick of the light these days, a fragment of Killua’s imagination, a ghost over his shoulder. When those moments do arise, sometimes when he’s standing in the middle of the street, and in the corner of his eye there’s a flicker of a specific shade of green, or when he’s looking out the window, and he thinks he hears Gon’s laugh, familiar like an old favorite song—a part of him jolts, nearly short-circuits, until he remembers that Gon is on the other side of the world, too far away to be where Killua is now.
Gon isn’t here, isn’t anywhere near here, but sometimes it takes a while for Killua to remember that, having been by Gon’s side almost constantly for the last two years, and now it’s just him and Alluka. It’s almost as though his whole world has shifted balance, tilted off-kilter, and Killua is struggling to find his footing. It might come out with time, he thinks, to relearn what it’s like to not have Gon constantly at his side.
(He misses Gon, of course, so much it’s almost unbearable, but he wouldn’t trade being with Alluka right now, happy and free, for anything else.)
He’ll get there, eventually. He’ll learn what it’s like to not exactly live for someone else; he’ll be his own person, and figure out what is it exactly he wants to do with his life. Slowly, like the trickling of days past him as they turn into months, he’ll get there. And one day, when he’s ready, and when Gon’s ready, too, they’ll meet again.
But for now, Alluka tugs at his hand, telling him that they should go to the festival, and Killua agrees, letting her pull him along.
09. smile
It’s cruel, Gon thinks. It’s cruel, and it’s unfair. Because it’s just his luck that all the roads would lead him here, to have him find something so beautiful and so real, and yet out of touch. Something completely once in a lifetime, so ethereal, that fate had pulled the strings just to give Gon a glimpse of it. And he’d pushed his luck too far, staying by it so closely for so long, and now he’s only giving up what’s due. An equivalent exchange that’s come far too soon.
Boy of lightning—only strikes the same place once.
The sunrise catches on silver hair, and morning light slopes under the arc of pale cheekbones, pooling in the spaces behind ears and under the neck, over the rise of metallic blue irises. Gon, half-dazed and dreamy, lets his eyes linger on the gentleness of hands, on the width of fingers, no longer used to kill as often before. It is now used for giving, he thinks, and yet it takes so little. Another unfair thing, an imbalance. Deserving of something better, of more, but never so easy to believe.
Killua looks relaxed as he reads, the tension from his shoulder gone, slightly slouched, the book held in his fingers with more grace and poise than Gon could ever muster, eyes focused in a loose concentration. It’s nice to see Killua like this, without the rapid heartbeat dancing around danger, all senses heightened in a rapid avoidance of being seen. He is beautiful in all other ways, of course, but this is nice, too. Calm and serene, without much to care or worry for. Killua deserves the rest.
Gon knows he’s staring, but he can’t seem to look away, not now and not like this, when the boy he calls a best friend is so captivating. He only has so much time before it’s taken away from him, back to that cruel unfairness of luck—but it isn’t luck, is it? Gon knows it’s different from that—this time it’s a choice. A decision made quietly, like a storm brewing, for some reason he can’t quite understand yet. Not yet, but he will, because Killua never does anything without a good reason, and Gon’s always been better than most at figuring those out.
“Gon, you’re doing it again,” Killua says suddenly, and it breaks Gon away from his haze, and he blinks once, twice, before smiling sheepishly at Killua, not entirely embarrassed.
“Sorry, Killua,” he says, only half-apologetic, and he keeps his gaze on Killua still, having yet to move.
“What are you staring for, anyway?” asks Killua, putting his book down, and looking at Gon with curious eyes. “There’s nothing weird on me, is there?”
Gon laughs lightly. “No, no, Killua looks as nice as always,” he answers, relishing in the way the compliment lights up Killua’s cheeks in a rosy color, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. “I was just trying to memorize what you looked like, that’s all.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve seen me every day for, like, the last two years, Gon.”
“Yeah, but you’re leaving soon,” Gon says, and he tries not to think about how in two days, Killua and Alluka will come with him to the World Tree, and then that’ll be it. No more seeing or talking to Killua every day. “So I need to make sure I never, ever forget what you look like. You’re my best friend.”
Killua smiles, slow but steady, and Gon tries to commit it to memory. It’s more important than anything else, seeing a smile grace his best friend’s lips, genuine and real. The way it’s a little crooked, an upturned curve at the end. Remember, he tells himself. Remember this. It’s all he will have left.
“Yeah, okay, but don’t be distracting, you hear?” Killua says, sounding a little stern, but the way he blushes again tells Gon his own words embarrass him.
“I won’t,” Gon says, grinning, and watches the light slope down on Killua’s nose. A little like moonlight, beautiful silver, careful steps.
But all of this, he knows, doesn’t compare to the beauty of Killua’s heart. Strong and loyal, sincere and caring. He tries to remember that, too, before it’s taken away from him. He won’t ask for much more, just please, let him keep his memories.
Unfair as though it all may seem, Gon knows that this is what he truly deserves, after all that he’s done. He’d taken too much, and now he must pay the price for it.
He has to give this up, too, in the end.
10. waves
One of their stops is a small town by the sea, with a lighthouse on top of a hill. There are small cabins by the coastline, houses built from rock and stone, miles and miles of green meadow to overlook the seaside. It’s a beautiful place, quiet, unlike the bustling cities they’ve passed by the last few days. It’s nice, a location Nanika picked out on the map, and Killua is content enough to relax for a few days.
Night’s already fallen as he stands outside, toes curled in the sand, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He couldn’t sleep, unable to shake out old habits, and the feeling of cold hair against his face is an old comfort. So he stands in the middle of the beach, alone, the smell of salt in his lungs, the taste on his lips. He doesn’t mind it.
The waves hit the shore calmly, low-tide, a back and forth motion of coming and going, always returning to where it came from. The sound is soothing enough, and Killua holds the blanket a little closer to his shoulders. He exhales. He’d known the moment he found out Nanika picked out a place by the sea that it would bring back memories, but he’s glad enough to find that none of them are sharp enough to hurt him.
It’s been two years since he last saw Gon, but the sea still reminds Killua of him.
It might be the late night exhaustion creeping in, but Killua knows that no matter what they’ve been through or what’s yet to happen, there’s not a single part of him that regrets being with Gon.
It’s easy to reminisce about the time they spent together—food fights and hotel runs, fighting monsters and getting chased by them, training and sleeping side by side. They’d spent a lot of time together, and now there’s dust all over these memories, but he still treasures them dearly. They’re important to him, even after all that happened. He wouldn’t let anything take them away from him.
Because of Gon, Killua had found something to lose, something to fight for, and it’s also the same reason why he’s here now with Alluka. But it was good, those days, just the two of them, ready to take on the world, unable to be brought down. And Killua knows that they can never go back to those days again, that it’ll never be the same even if they meet again, but maybe that’s what makes all of it so special. The time he spent on Whale Island, the days they were in Greed Island without anything to fear—they were fun, and even if in the end it all came down to this, it’s not something he would take back.
When Killua thinks about Gon, it’s not about what happened that night that comes first to his mind. No, it’s everything else—the reckless determination, the way he’d stormed Zoldyck Manor just to get to Killua, the constant affirmation of their friendship, the words it has to be Killua, gentle hands and touches (the first ones he’d ever felt), the trust and love that Gon had given him. It’s all of that, instead.
Even with all that’s come to break them apart, Killua knows that even through all the bad, he’d had something good with him.
11. letter
Dear Killua,
Mito-san hasn’t given me my phone back yet because she says it’s a distraction, so I’ve decided to write a letter instead! But the problem is I don’t know where you are, so I probably can’t send it…and that’s okay, you know, of course, because you’re supposed to be on vacation with Alluka! That’s what’s more important, and you can’t go around announcing wherever you are in case your family finds you. So this won’t reach you, probably, so I guess that means I can say the things that I’m too afraid to tell you now.
(But I’m hoping that one day I’ll be able to. And that you’ll let me.)
I just…I miss you, Killua. It’s been a while since I saw you or heard from you. I miss the sound of your voice and your laugh, and how much you love chocolate. I miss seeing how blue your eyes are, and how grumpy you can be in the mornings. I miss knowing that you have my back and I have yours, and I miss competing with you all the time, even for the dumbest things. I miss walking beside you, and how in the end it never really mattered where we were going, just that we were together. I miss you a lot, okay? Probably more than I’m allowed to.
I think I figured out why you decided to leave. It wasn’t just for Alluka’s sake, was it? It was because of me. Because I hurt you. Because I pushed you away when we were supposed to be a team, because I didn’t take your feelings into consideration, and because I was incredibly selfish.
And I’m sorry, Killua. I’m really, really sorry.
I know I already apologized before you left, but that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t, Killua, even if you say you’ve forgiven me already. You deserve better than that. I want to make it up to you, and I think…I think it’s a good thing that we’re not together right now. Because I need to figure some things out, too, a lot of them, and it won’t do either of us any good if we just keep hurting each other because we’re too afraid to leave. So I guess what I’m saying is that this was the right decision, for both of us.
When I see you again, I’m going to be better. I’m going to make sure of it, so that I never hurt other people again. So that I never hurt you again. I promise, Killua, I’ll do better this time around. I’ll be the best friend you deserve to have.
But until then, I guess I’ll just have to miss you.
Gon
12. nap
Killua talks in his sleep.
Gon thinks it’s a little funny, even if Killua told him that he doesn’t really dream often. He probably just doesn’t remember them, Gon surmises, because otherwise he wouldn’t be talking so much. It’s not a lot, and it’s not that frequent to be concerning, and usually Gon can only make out two or three words at best. Killua doesn’t seem to realize that he’s doing it though, and Gon doesn’t really want to bother him with the knowledge of his somniloquies. It’s pretty amusing, too, to wake up at night, and hear his best friend mumbling about chocolate every now and then.
Gon’s fingertips graze Killua’s forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He’d fallen asleep on Gon’s lap while watching a movie, though of course Gon doesn’t really have a problem with that, except maybe he’ll start to lose feeling in his leg soon. Moonlight trickles past the window, and Killua’s hair glows beneath him, bright and silver, casting tiny shadows over the slope of his cheeks. It’s almost breathtaking, Gon thinks to himself, and he knows he’s incredibly lucky, to have someone so beautiful and wonderful by his side. Killua is loyal and kind and caring—he deserves the world, and Gon is going to try to do everything to give it to him.
Killua mumbles something, and Gon smiles to himself. That means Killua’s dreaming. Gon hopes it’s a good one.
“Gon…” Killua says, and he leans a bit forward to try to catch whatever his best friend’s about to say next. “Give it to me…chocolate…”
Gon nearly bursts out laughing, but manages to contain himself for Killua’s sake. He clamps his hands over his mouth just in case, grinning wildly. He’ll tell Alluka about this later.
“Gon,” Killua says again, a bit louder, and Gon stifles a giggle. “Love you.”
Upon hearing that, Gon places his hands back down and smiles. He presses a gentle kiss on Killua’s forehead, and one of his hands finds Killua’s, and he squeezes it softly. His heart skips a beat, and he feels something warm grow in his chest, full of nothing but happiness and affection.
“I love you, too, Killua.”
13. team
It takes a while for them to fall back in sync. It’s been years since they last saw each other, and they stumble through the process of getting to know one another all over again—how strange is it, that there are parts of Killua that Gon doesn’t know, and that there are stories about Gon that Killua wasn’t there for. Like taking steps backwards, Gon asks Killua to tell him about his adventures, tell me what you were like when I wasn’t there, about the places he’s seen and the people he’s met. They were best friends not long ago—but it almost seems like they don’t know each other at all anymore.
But there’s a remedy they find for that, long conversations and even more adventures, relearning things that they once knew like the back of their hands, different fighting styles and newer techniques. Gon learns that Killua drinks coffee now, but still prefers hot chocolate over it; Killua finds out that Gon prefers strawberry over vanilla, even when he used to say that vanilla was the best part of anything. Bits and pieces of rebuilding what once was a home—but sturdier now, stronger than before. What were the facial expressions you made that I didn’t see, Gon wants to ask, I used to know each and every one of them. Killua lets him relearn them all: every crease in his brow, every tilt of his nose, every indicator that meant that he was happy. Gon lets him do the same, lets Killua find new scars that he doesn’t recognize, and allows him to trace the lines on his palm to map out the direction homebound.
And slowly, like clockwork, it becomes a little bit of what it used to be—different in all the best ways, but similar enough that it’s still them at the core. There’s still a lot they have to work through, pieces that are missing are replaced, newer parts fitted in, conversations held, loud screams and hushed whispers, salty tears that are made up with sweet candies the next day. It’s a lot of work, and a lot of effort, but they know it’ll be worth it in the end, because they’ve always been cut of the same cloth, born with the same soul. They’re Killua and Gon, and every dreamer knows that it might as well be synonymous to invincible.
After all, they’ve always been a perfect team.
14. eat
“Ready, set, go!”
Gon starts eating as fast as he can, nearly inhaling all of the food before him in a race to beat Killua. He almost chokes once or twice for doing it too quickly, but this isn’t really anything he hasn’t done before, especially with Killua. He sneaks a glance at his best friend—eyes narrowed in determination, bits and pieces of food stuck all over his face. It takes him a lot not to laugh, that would make this a lot harder.
After a few more minutes, Gon snatches the last cupcake, and within seconds, calls out, “Done!”
Killua shoves at him, but nothing too hard. He huffs and crosses his arms, picking up the glass of water by the side. “Not fair!” he says.
“How isn’t it fair?” Gon asks.
“Because you—it just was!” Killua says, already blushing in his fumble for words. He exhales, and leans back, frowning. “Aw man, now I won’t get all those chocolates.”
“Good, because too much isn’t healthy for you, Killua!” Gon argues, and it really is a little bit concerning how many chocolates Killua consumes in a day. Killua never listens to him about it, though. “And besides,” he adds, “since I won, we get to go to the aquarium!”
“But we’ve already been to the aquarium, Gon,” Killua says. “Thrice.”
He shakes his head. “Still! We’ve got to check on Oliver! That really cute dolphin, remember? And Lily! The otter, oh, I wonder how she’s doing!”
With a sigh, Killua nods slowly. “Yeah, yeah, I remember them,” he agrees, and Gon grins. “You’re lucky they’re cute.”
“Yes!” Gon exclaims, and leans in over to kiss Killua’s cheek. “We can go tomorrow! I’m so excited!”
Killua just smiles, exasperatedly fond, and shakes his head. He’s never really been able to say no to Gon, anyway.
15. call
When Gon’s birthday passes a year after their separation, Killua doesn’t call. There’s never been the right time for either of them to call, lately, and their contact has become less frequent as time passes, little by little, until there’s nothing at all. He doesn’t know if Gon would want to hear from him, anyway.
(When Killua’s birthday comes and goes two months later, Gon doesn’t call either. It’s okay. Killua didn’t expect him to.)
16. love
It’s not often that Gon wakes to the smell of smoke. His eyes open, finding an empty space next to him, already a bit cold. Getting up, he pads into the hallway, still half asleep, rubbing his eyes with a loud yawn. There’s the scent of burnt food too, which doesn’t make sense, because Alluka’s the only other person besides him who can cook and she had spent the night with Palm. It’s barely even seven in the morning, so Killua shouldn’t even be up for the next four hours. So why…?
“Killua? Is that you?” Gon calls out, rounding the corner.
“Gon!” he hears Killua yell, panicked. “Shit, uh—”
Gon’s eyes widen as he takes in the scene before him. There’s Killua, standing in the middle of the kitchen, bits of food stuck all over him, rice in his hair and oil on his legs, splatters of egg yolk messily scattered on his apron. There are dishes strewn haphazardly on the counter, pots and pans stacked messily by the side. There’s even stuff stuck to the walls, Gon realizes. Killua’s face is red, caught like a deer in the headlights.
“Hey, Gon,” Killua says weakly, waving at him before putting his hand back down, pointedly looking away. “Listen, uh, I’ll clean this up real quick, so you can just pretend this never happened—”
“Killua,” Gon says slowly, approaching with small steps. “Were you trying to make us breakfast?”
“Well, it was more for you than for both of us,” Killua mutters, “but um, yes. It didn’t—it didn’t work out, as you can see.”
“Killua,” Gon says, and his heart feels like bursting, because Killua tried to do something for him. He steps closer, taking one of Killua’s hands in his own, and using the other to cradle his jaw. “That’s so sweet.”
“Oh, shut up,” Killua mumbles, still looking away. He sighs. “I wanted—I wanted to get it right, for you. I’m sorry. I know I’m shit at cooking, but I didn’t think it would be this hard. I burnt the bacon.” He winces. “And the egg. And the rice, which, I think, says something about my complete inability to cook.”
Gon laughs softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Killua’s mouth. “It’s okay. I’ll eat anything you give me, you know. Mito-san taught me that if your significant other gives you something, you’re supposed to eat it.”
“Even if it’s terrible?” Killua asks, nearly smiling.
Gon nods. “Even if it’s terrible.”
Killua laughs, and he leans down to press his forehead against Gon’s. “If you say so, Freecss.” Their lips touch for the briefest moment before Killua moves to speak again. “Just so you know, I’m probably gonna try cooking again until I get it right, so get ready.”
Gon grins and pulls him down for another kiss. “Sounds good to me, Killua.”
17. sacrifice
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” Gon says quietly, tears running down his face, shoulders curled inwards. It hurts all over, this reopening of wounds that he’d tried to stitch closed—but Gon is trying. And Killua wants to try, too, together. This is the only way that they can begin again.
“You’ve already hurt me,” Killua says, looking at him, watching the way Gon winces, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut, his body language made of nothing but guilt. He knows what Killua means—the way Killua had been by his side almost relentlessly, willing to fight by him at a moment’s notice, but Gon had nearly thrown his life away despite it all. Gon knows this, knows the way he had broken Killua like a promise, and neither of them had been able to forget it. You were my whole world, Gon, he thinks, like he has many times before, why didn’t you just let me help you?
“But,” Killua says, pressing his lips together for a moment, and he thinks about all the moments he’d held back from speaking this into existence, in fear that they’d never get a second chance. “I’ve hurt you, too.”
And Gon stares at him, blinking, looking like he has an argument for that on his tongue, but Killua shakes his head, and the look dissipates. Killua’s crying now, too, shaky hands and trembling voice, but his heart holds steadfast, telling himself that it’s time for these things to be said. Is there something I could’ve said back then, that would’ve made your heart hurt less? The pain is still there, still existent, but after all the time they’ve spent apart, this is when things are ready to be brought to light.
“I’ve hurt you and you’ve hurt me, and we’re going to keep doing it over and over again,” Killua says, falling back into an inhale-exhale, and unsteady fingers find his own, clasp together, finding each other despite the space between. “But that’s just how it is.”
“But Killua—”
“It’s not just about you anymore, Gon. It doesn’t matter if you hurt me more or if it was a different kind. That’s not—” Killua pauses, and he squeezes their connected hands. “What matters now is what we do next, and I’ve already decided what I want. I want to be a part of this. I want us to be a team, no matter what the problem is, even if it’s a small one, like cooking or getting groceries. I don’t want—you don’t have to do things alone, okay? I want to be with you through all of it, no matter what it is.”
Gon stares at him for a beat, blinking. Then he tackles Killua in a hug, wails loud apologies into his shoulder, “Killua, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” holding him tightly. And Killua says them back, just as meaningful, hoping that the heavens hear the promises they’re making, and knows that they’re going to try their best to keep them.
Because for every life they’ve ever lived, for every city they’ve been to, for every kingdom they’ve seen fall, Killua knows that such things like second chances are a force to be reckoned with. And they’re a long shot from perfect, but Killua’s willing to bet every star in the sky that they’ll be okay. He knows that better than anything.
18. color
The truth is, Killua doesn’t really have a favorite color.
He’s never really thought about it, never considered it to be something important. As long as he could wear nice clothes that suited him, the colors didn’t really matter. It never really occurred to him that he could pick a favorite.
But then Gon had tried to guess and yelled out, “Blue!” and he looked so excited, smiling wide and bright like a little kid, over-enthusiastic with stars in his eyes and hopefulness in voice.
And Killua had told him that he was right, because now he hasn’t seen blue the same way since. It’s in everything that takes up his world, from the sky to the ocean, from the shirt he wears most days to the design on his yo-yos. It’s in the chocolate robots he loves so much, in the lightning he fights with. It’s in the way Gon points to the sky and tells Killua that he’s happy to be with him. Blue is everywhere. He could probably live in it.
“Yes! Got it on the first try!” Gon exclaims, and Killua can’t do anything else but smile back and agree.
19. home
After a long day of exploring the woods, Killua, face a little scratched, dirt covering his clothes and arms, calls out Gon’s name.
And Gon, just as scratched up, mud under his shoes, looks at him, grinning as he takes Killua’s hand, and tells him, “Let’s go home.”
(They’d both learned a little while back that home isn’t necessarily a place. It’s just where your heart is—and that they already know.)
20. help
“You should call him,” Alluka tells him, after she catches Killua staring at his phone for a moment too long. There’s a thin thread of impatience lining her voice, a bit of exasperation. She already knows what he’s been thinking about—he’s been restless since the moment he woke up, and her brother has shared enough stories with her to know exactly where Gon lies in the space of his heart.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Killua says, crossing his arms, pointedly looking away and placing his phone on the table before flopping face down on the bed.
“Onii-chan, I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this,” she says, and she ties down her hair before looking at him properly. She’s braided her hair wonderfully, something she’s recently gotten into doing—sometimes Killua will help her out if she needs it, and he’ll let her make tiny braids in his hair if she wants to. “You obviously miss him, so just call him. It’s really simple.”
“Alluka, I love you, but it’s really not,” Killua says, voice half-muffled. He groans, and turns his head to the side so he can look at her properly. “You know what? Just forget it. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get myself together in a bit.”
“Onii-chan,” she says, throwing her hands up. “It’s been a while since you last saw or talked to him! Don’t you think it’s time that you guys reconnect?”
“Mmph,” Killua mumbles. “I do want to talk to him,” he says, voice small, and it’s one of the very few times that Alluka has ever heard her brother so defeated. “But I don’t know if he even wants to, not after all this time…”
“Well,” she replies, holding a hand to her chin. “You won’t know that unless you try, onii-chan. Even Nanika thinks you should, you know.”
“She does?” Killua asks, pushing himself up to sit down next to her, and she leans her head on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Alluka answers, threading their fingers together in comfort. “So you should do it. Call him. It’s worth a shot.”
“Okay,” Killua says after a moment. There’s still uncertainty in his voice, but it’s followed by a resolve, at least. It’s progress. “Maybe…maybe I will.”
“Good,” Alluka says, grinning. “Onii-chan, can you help me paint my nails?”
Killua smiles, and the restless look on his face is mostly gone, replaced by a calm one, eyes gentle and blue like the ocean. “As long as you paint mine after.”
Alluka kisses his cheek. “Okay!”
21. entwine
“Killua. What about us? Can we try again?” Gon asks, and his fingers find Killua’s, holding on tightly, terrified to lose what he’s been given.
And Killua looks at him then, a sad look in his eyes, defeated around the edges, and he breathes out an apology into the air. “Alluka and I are leaving tomorrow,” he says. “We’ll try again when we’re done traveling.”
“Wait for me?” Gon asks quietly. He knows that despite the apologies they’d both said earlier, there’s still a lot of things unspoken between them. Gon’s never been quite so good at words, he’s going to need time to figure out what exactly to say, and how to do things differently the next time around.
Killua smiles, slow, like the sunrise, half-there. “I will.”
22. laugh
Sometimes, when Killua laughs, Gon thinks, I think the sky stole the stars from you.
Because he knows that Killua has been through hell—he’s been through extreme amounts torture and pain and abuse, things Gon could only ever imagine, wounds cut deep and blood red glass shards, and even then he knows that what he’s imagining won’t be able to capture the whole gravity of it. There’s a pit in his stomach when he really thinks about it, something akin to guilt for not being there for Killua earlier, for not meeting him sooner. And he knows that there wasn’t anything he could really do about it, not when Whale Island is miles and miles away from Kukuroo Mountain, not with Killua’s family being who they are, but it doesn’t erase the fact that Killua still had to go through all of that. It’s terrible, poison and electrocution and chains, but then he’s reminded that all that matters now is that Killua is better now, away from it all. That Killua is here, safe and happy.
So when he laughs, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, looking so free, making it look so easy, absolutely breathtaking, Gon is thankful that Killua can smile at all. And he’s so happy, that he’s able to make Killua feel like that, like nothing hurts at all. He wants to make Killua happy all the time.
When Killua laughs, Gon feels a growing warmth in his chest, like a sunburst threatening to spill out, golden honey overflowing with joy. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, so he takes the laughter, pockets it, and saves it for a rainy day—for the other times when sadness will reach Killua before Gon does, for when he needs that bit of laughter again. Keeps it close to him, so that it never ever fades away.
But when that doesn’t work, Gon will be there for him anyway.
23. confess
“Hey, um, Gon? There’s—there’s something I need to tell you,” Killua says, voice small, and he shifts position to face him, crossed-legged with their knees touching. He exhales a shaky breath, tries to steady his hands. This is it, he thinks, he’s finally going to say it. This is another step forward, no longer still.
Gon looks at him with concerned eyes, just as gentle as they’ve always been. “Killua?”
“I…” Killua starts to say, and he wonders if Gon can hear his heartbeat now in this silence, the way it batters against his chest, if he already knows what Killua’s about to say. “I, um.”
“Killua, you don’t have to…”
“No, no, I…I need to say this,” Killua says, and he swallows, a lump in his throat, watching the way dust settles into the bed in the corner of his eye. “I think it’s important that you should know.”
Gon looks at him for another moment, looking for something that Killua will eventually give up, and nods slowly. “Okay.”
His cheeks heat up. He’s not really comfortable with talking about feelings, or anything related to that sort of the matter—but Alluka had convinced him that this was a good idea, and that he’d never really know unless he tried, and she seemed certain enough that this wouldn’t end up terribly. He trusts her, so it should be fine, right? Except—except he’s not really sure about what Gon feels, and he can’t exactly assume things, even if Gon does tend to wear his heart on his sleeve…
“Okay,” he breathes out. Killua manages to make himself look Gon in the eye, heart on his tongue. One step forward. He can do this. “Um, the other day, do you remember what you said while we were watching the sunset?”
Gon blinks at him. “I told you that this was the happiest I’ve ever been,” he replies. “I meant it, Killua. I’m really happy being with you.”
“Yeah,” Killua says, and the blush on his cheeks darkens. He clenches his fists, and breathes out slowly. “Me, too.”
Gon slides his hands over Killua’s, easing the tension out with gentle touches. “That’s…I’m glad, Killua.”
“I feel like that all the time, when I’m with you. Gon, I…” Killua closes his eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again to find Gon’s gaze trained solely on him, a quiet, steady reassurance.
“I’m in love with you,” he says, all in one breath, and he looks away, unwilling to see the reaction on Gon’s face. “I wasn’t sure if you—I didn’t want to tell you in case it changed things between us, and I didn’t want to lose you again, so if this—if you don’t, that’s okay, it’s fine, I just thought that you—that you should know.”
A hand finds his, and squeezes thrice softly. Killua looks back at his best friend. And Gon is—
Gon is smiling.
Before Killua can even say anything else, Gon wraps his arms around Killua’s neck, pulling him even closer.
“I love you, too, Killua,” Gon says, beaming, just a few inches apart, and Killua’s eyes widen in surprise. “I love you so much!”
“You…do?” he asks, and he dares himself to be hopeful for once, to risk it all, because he’s pretty sure that Gon is a damn terrible liar, and he wouldn’t be saying this to Killua if he didn’t mean it. “You’re serious?”
“Yes!” Gon says, jumping a little where’s sitting, giddy. “Ah, Killua, I love you, I love you, I love you!”
He flushes even harder, pink all the way to the tips of his ears. “I-idiot,” he stammers, but Gon’s undeterred, still bright and grinning. “You don’t have to say it so much.”
For a moment, he thinks to himself—am I allowed to be this happy? Is it right for him to have both Gon and Alluka in his life, for him to feel this way? Does he deserve that much? He’s let these thoughts taint him so many times already before, always lingering in the back of his mind. He’d told Gon about this once, quiet and hesitant, the words choking him before he could properly get them out—and Gon had looked at him, taken his hands, and said, with a sincerity so strong it was almost palpable, “Of course, Killua, of course. You deserve to be happy, and you deserve to be loved in all the best ways.”
Killua tries to remember that as often as he can.
“But it’s true! I love Killua!” Gon says, and his hands move to cup Killua’s cheeks.
“Jeez, I don’t understand how blunt you can be about all of this, it took ages for me to even get the nerve to confess.”
“It’s easy because it’s you, and you’re my best friend,” Gon says, and he makes it seem so simple—and maybe it really is just so, Killua thinks.
Maybe simple is what it’s always been, between the two of them. Because despite all that they’ve been through, they managed to find their way back to one another, scarred and bruised but better than before. And that’s what matters in the end, anyway, that they’re going to figure things out together, one step at a time. Everything else will just follow.
24. hands
“Ne, Killua,” Gon says one day, and there’s an upward tilt to his lips, and already Killua knows that he’s up to something. “Can you hold something for me?”
Killua rolls his eyes, looking at his best friend for any signs of what he’s talking about. “Both of your hands are free, what do you need me for?”
“Killuaaa,” he whines. “Just hold out your hand, okay?”
He huffs, staring at Gon blankly, before doing as he’s told, palm facing upwards. He’s never really been able to say no to Gon, anyway, not for a long time. He doesn’t really mind, though. “Here. So what is it?”
Gon grins, and he places his own hand on top of Killua’s, intertwining their fingers together. “Heh. Thanks, Killua.”
The moment Killua figures out what Gon’s done, he tries to let go, but Gon only holds on tighter. He can feel his cheeks heating up, and he stutters, “Gon—you—! You’re so embarrassing!”
“Only for you, Killua,” Gon says cheekily, and Killua turns his face away, too flustered to even argue.
Instead, he sighs, and mumbles out a small, “You could’ve just asked, idiot.”
Gon only seems to brighten up even more, and he squeezes their hands together. “I just really like holding Killua’s hand!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Killua says, but he can’t stop the smile that unwittingly rises to his lips, and he squeezes back three times. “I like holding your hand, too.”
25. question
“Killua, what do you think about forever?”
26. answer
“Forever, huh?” Killua says. “Well, I think I’d be okay with it, as long as you’re there with me.”
27. dream
“Hey, it’s me. Um. Shit. Uh, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but uh, this is going to sound really stupid, and I don’t really know why I’m saying this but—fuck, okay. I don’t know if you remember, but once you asked me if I had any dreams. I said no, because I don’t usually, or I don’t remember them. But, um, last night—I dreamt of you. And this is gonna sound crazy, I know, and you can just ignore this whole thing if you want, but I think it might mean something. So, if it’s—if it’s okay with you, Alluka and I were planning to visit Whale Island soon. She’d really like to see you again, and I—I would to. I miss you, you know. So, uh, if you’re up for it, let me know, would you? It’s fine if you don’t want to! I just—sorry, this was really stupid, I’m just gonna go. Sorry. Bye.”
28. surprise
“Everyone, shhhh!”
“He’s coming!”
“Zushi, the lights!”
“Quick, hide!”
Killua listens as the faint sound of footsteps approach, and the door slowly creeps open. He holds his breath, watching as the new found light makes it past through the door, illuminating a bit of the room. Just a little more now. Three, two, one—
“Surprise!”
The lights snap on, and confetti explodes across the room, balloons are released, and everyone starts clapping. Knuckle is whooping, and he hears Bisky yell something unintelligible, and Alluka jumps from where she stands.
Gon’s shriek is nothing but happy, and Killua watches as his eyes light up, his face flushed as he takes in his surroundings. Leorio walks over to him, wrapping Gon in a big hug, and ruffling his air. Kurapika does the same, a fond smile on his lips. Gon laughs at something Palm says, and he walks a little further into the room, quickly being enveloped by other people as he goes along, getting showered by birthday greetings.
Killua watches as all these people gather around Gon, all of these people that are connected to him in some way, who have seen him both at his best and at his worst. These people, who’ve been moved by Gon’s kindness, who chose to believe this kid over every other chance that was against them, who stuck around to see him pull through. The same people who came when Gon was in the hospital, hoping to see the incredible fire in his eyes light up once more, to see Gon pull off one last miracle. They’ve seen his stubbornness and his pride and his selfishness, his wounds and bruises, the scars that litter all over his skin, and still finds it within them to stay.
And Killua has grown up taught that none of this was worth the effort—no kindness, no mercy. People don’t like things that are ugly, and what is he, a killer with no grief, is that not something monstrous? He’d never think that he’d be here now—full of people with hearts big enough to look past such things, capable of finding something worth saving after all. And Killua knows, he’s learned this many times before, that it’s Gon with the biggest heart of them all. He’s the one who looked for Killua, who hunted him down, and demanded his family to let him go. He’s the one who declared that they were friends, who saw something beautiful in Killua, that he couldn’t even see himself. He’s the one who stayed first.
That means the world to him.
And he knows now that Gon is far from perfect. He learned that the hard way, shadows dancing in the dark, a storm weathering right in front of him, long black hair curled around forest trees, pale eyes. Gon is full of mistakes, and he knows that now, better than anyone. But that doesn’t mean it erases all the great things they’ve done together, it doesn’t take away the love or the bond that they share. People are nothing but faultlines, ready to break if enough pressure is applied, and Gon isn’t an exception to that. Killua isn’t, either. They’re capable of breaking, made with disastrous aftershocks, but that doesn’t mean they can’t recover from it.
Anything can be repaired with enough time, after all. Just as Killua’s getting better, so is Gon.
“Killua!” Gon says, running up to him, grinning. “Did you plan this?”
He shrugs, a sly smile coming up on his face. “Maybe,” Killua says. He throws an arm around Gon’s shoulders, and squeezes him close. “Happy birthday, Gon.”
Gon plants a swift kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Killua! You really are the best.”
“Anything for you,” Killua says, feeling his cheeks warm up. “Come on, let’s go cut your cake already, I’m starving.”
Gon laughs, bright and loud, and takes Killua’s hand to drag him along. Killua doesn’t mind—he never really has, truth be told.
Because despite all the brokenness, he is still Gon Freecss, and for all the love he gets for being a golden boy, and Killua will still love everything under the luster.
29. touch
The moment Killua’s eyes land on a small green blur in the distance, he knows in an instant. There’s a boy there, with spiked up hair and the warmest brown eyes, standing a few feet away from where he is, looking right back at him. Killua’s whole world goes still.
Because this is it, isn’t it? This is what he’s been waiting for these past three years, something he’s only ever allowed himself to dream of. This moment, this time, this setting, this life. It’s finally here. All he has to do is take a step forward.
He does. And then another. And another and another, until he’s running, and the boy is running too, past the great meadow, down the hill to where Killua is, the grass tickling his legs as he goes. The sun is beaming down on them in a great expanse of light, and Killua can hear Alluka’s laughter behind him, bright and warm like a reminder of all the things that’s accumulated to get him to where he is now. Killua runs and runs, until he isn’t afraid anymore.
“Gon!”
“Killua!”
He runs, and then he reaches Gon, who tackles him into a hug that tilts his whole world back into proper balance.
Killua finds himself laughing into Gon’s embrace, wrapping his arms around his best friend so tightly, trying to put all the words he never got to say, all the letters he never sent, all the emails he left drafted together—he puts them all into this feeling, this act of trying to put themselves back together, this reunion of two whole souls coming back together for another great adventure. And for a moment, it feels like they’re just kids again, twelve and reckless and wild, still learning things with too much determination and too little caution.
“Hey,” Killua says, breathless, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside his head.
“Hi,” Gon says back, laughing, and Killua can feel Gon’s smile pressed against his neck, and he feels warm all over.
It’s a little like coming home, he thinks.
Gon lets go first, but instead of completely letting go, his hands move from Killua’s shoulders to his face, his touch ever so light, so gentle, cradling Killua’s jaw like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever held. His eyes don’t leave Killua’s, the same almost-golden ones, the first ones to ever really see Killua, and they’re as bright as Killua remembers them—maybe even more so, now.
Gon’s fingers brush past his cheek, tucking a wayward curl back behind his ear, easy and soft, and Killua tilts his head to press into Gon’s touch. There’s a look on his face, one that Killua doesn’t recognize, doesn’t remember from their time together—it tells him that he’s not the only one who’s changed after all this time.
“What was that all about?” Killua asks, curious, a playful smile already on his lips before he can help it.
Gon links both of their hands together, almost fully healed now from all that they’ve endured. He smiles at Killua, soft and sincere. “I just wanted to make sure it was still you.”
And Killua laughs, bright and easy. They have lots to talk about later, he knows, adventures and stories about the places they’ve visited and the people they’ve met, and maybe a bit later, quiet, but every bit sincere apologies, a little bit of making up to do—but they have time now. They can take their time, figure out what’s next for them. Wounds heal best with time, after all, and though it seems difficult, Killua knows it’ll all be okay eventually.
They’re Gon and Killua, and together they’ve always been good with the impossible.
30. promise
When Gon looks at Killua, he thinks of love.
He’s not really sure what it is yet, or if he’s right about love being this feeling he gets in his chest whenever he looks at his best friend. All he knows is that it takes up his whole existence, fills him from head to toe, with nothing but pure adoration and warmth. And it’s not just friendship, and he can tell that it runs deeper than that—something similar to those old tales about soul bonds and strings of fate. There’s something there, he knows, something beautiful and bold, golden light seeping through the cracks in their skin.
Because with Killua, Gon feels even greater than before, bigger than himself, capable of holding the whole world in his hands. Because Killua thinks it’s funny when he’s mad, but he’ll also be the first one by Gon’s side when he’s upset. Killua gives him the courage before saying hello, the pause before each heartbeat, every space in between moments. And maybe, he thinks, it has something to do with the way Killua knows him better than anyone else, better than himself, and how Killua had taken the time to get to know him—his dreams, his fears, his favorite food and home, every little piece of him, stored like something precious. And maybe at the end of the day, that’s what love is all about, really—putting in the effort. Because what is love if there is no effort, no work? It’s all about the trying, the getting to know one another, all the bits and pieces fitting together, two people bonded willingly. Not an equivalent exchange, but giving it all that you can. It’s a decision, in the end—I choose to love you.
“Killua,” Gon says, inching closer to where Killua is lying. “What would you think, if I asked for us to stay together?”
Killua’s eyes open slowly, and a small smile touches his lips. “I’d say, yeah, Gon, I think we should.”
“Yeah?” Gon says.
“Yeah.”
“You promise?” he asks, and holds out his pinky.
Killua rolls his eyes, but curls his own finger around Gon’s. “I promise.” Then he moves forward to press his lips against Gon’s softly, sealed with a kiss. “Now, go to sleep, idiot. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Gon laughs, and kisses Killua three more times, one for each cheek, and another on his forehead. “Good night, Killua.”
“Good night, Gon.”
And the thing is—Gon may not know a lot of things, but he does know Killua, and maybe that means he knows about love too.