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Ever since he was a young assassin-in-training, Killua had always been told to hide his fragility from his enemy.
“You must be more like Illumi,” His father had said, gesturing to Killua’s older, emotionally vacant brother. A young Killua had shuddered at the very thought of being somewhat alike to that vessel of pure evil. “A good assassin hides his true emotions. And, if you are to carry this family legacy after I am gone, so should you.”
Consequently, as Killua had matured, he had learned not to allow any negative feelings — such as anger, desire or sadness — show through his shell. He didn’t need the vulnerability nor the transparency it would bring him, and he simply did not know any other way.
Though, this stoic mask of his was suffocating the poor boy. Bottling up all of his emotions was doing more harm than good by far. And there was nothing the debilitated, wrongly-conditioned child could do to help himself.
But then, Gon came along.
Gon Freecss; always smiling, never anything less that a beam of utterly blinding sunlight. He was the first person to ever show Killua that there was more in the cruel, wide world to experience — other than the pain, death and torture Killua had always been exposed to. Killua would forever be in debt to Gon for that. Among many, many other things.
Moonlight seeped through the flowing curtains, stroking waves of white light across two sleeping forms nestled under pale blankets. The humming of crickets hung in the cold night air. Every few minutes, the calmness was pierced by a somewhat gentle snore evacuating Gon’s mouth.
Killua’s skin felt clammy and hot, white hair sticking to the nape of his sweaty neck. His sleeping body had shifted all the way across the hotel’s double bed until his limbs dangled over the edge, body curled completely away from and parallel to Gon’s; who, in turn, was stretched out across his entire half of the bed as if he was a sugar glider mid-flight.
Furrowing his eyebrows in his sleep, a small grunt
escaped Killua. Then, a whine.
Then a sob.
It took only a few pitiful noises to be dragged from the boy before he woke up in an instant, shooting upright. Hot tears plummeted down the curves of Killua’s face almost immediately, his silver eyelashes battering desperately to halt them.
Killua’s throat burned as he held back sobs. Moving his clammy hands to his mouth, he pressed down, and hard. After a few mere seconds he grew to feel dizzy, though he wasn’t sure whether it was because of the after effects of his nightmare, or the severe strain on his throat caused by the leashed noises.
The third-floor hotel room was deathly quiet, then. Or at least it seemed to be, save the small, tearful noises escaping from Killua. Blue eyes coated in a misty sheen of saline found their way to Gon’s sleeping frame. Being ever so careful not to wake his best friend, Killua slid out of the bed.
When one sock clad foot touched the blue carpet, Killua’s knee completely buckled. The young teenager flopped to the floor with a soft ‘thump’, shortly followed by a louder wailing. Which led into an outright meltdown.
Face tilted upwards, Killua sunk his closed fists into the carpet, before letting out another pitiful howl. Within seconds, his throat was sore with the tearful sounds emanating from him. He was scarcely aware of the boy appearing at his side, and said boy’s hands hovering unsurely over Killua’s shoulders. The crouching figure behind him spoke softly, offering comforting hushes and phrases of sweet nothingness. They didn’t reach Killua.
Illumi’s blank, unforgiving eyes still bore into Killua’s core. No matter whether Killua’s eyelids were open or screwed tightly shut, he could still see the deceased and mangled bodies before him. Gon and Alluka, sprayed with thick, black blood, glinting horrifically in the eerie moonlight.
Killua recognised the clearing they were sprawled out in; Gon had fought someone there, once. Their name was Pitou, he remembered. Though he really wished he didn’t.
“Killua, please listen to me!” An urgent voice finally broke through to the sobbing mess of a child. When Killua realised it belonged to the shadow right next to him — the one rooted back in reality — he jumped backwards. Quickly shuffling back to the wall, he pressed his entire frame against the white wallpaper. His eyes were blown wide, the whites exposed around every side of the blue iris that quivered in the dead centre.
Killua shook his head furiously when the other lifeform grew nearer, limbs contorted so that they surrounded the silver haired boy. It reminded him of the snakes his family had left him in a room with, back when he was barely a child. One of the bite scars was still visible on his ankle to that day.
“Puh- Please.” begged Killua, throat scratchy and as dry as sand. He squeezed his eyes closed, lowering his head so that his bangs covered them. Shoulders shook as the presence reached him, looming over like a stormcloud. A pair of hands were soon pressed to his shoulders, stilling them. Frozen like a deer in headlights, Killua’s breath completely ceased.
“Killua?”
Brows furrowed. Sensing hesitation in the boy’s voice — yes, it was a boy — Killua shook from his weak grip. His arms darted out as quick as a serpent, pushing the boy back against the bed. Immediately on his feet, Killua made his way to a door. As he stumbled, the room seemed to tilt, making his walk pattern a zig-zagging and nonsensical mess.
“Killua!” The boy was standing on his feet when Killua slammed the door closed behind him. Sliding down against the wood, his hands sunk down onto cold tile. If his eyes could just focus, he’d know he was sitting in a dark hotel bathroom.
The former assassin flinched when a pressure was felt through the door. Three hesitant knocks then sounded, each one acting as a dull blow to Killua’s temple.
“Killua?”
No.
“Let me in!”
No.
“What did I do?” The voice sounded tearful.
You killed them. Killua accused.
Did he?
Yes. He killed them, Alluka and Gon, and now he was going to kill Killua, too.
But, why?
Killua jolted, shuffling immediately away from the door when it was pushed open. He choked on a sob when the small of his back hit a smooth surface: the bathtub.
“Stay away!” Killua warned, unsheathing long nails that were poised to strike.
“Killua! Snap out of it!” Hands grabbed the sides of his face, warm against his skin. A familiar scent washed over Killua’s nose. It alone caused his heartbeat to settle a little, and the fight slowly began to leak from Killua’s stance.
“...Killua.” Equally warm arms encircled Killua’s shoulders, pulling him into someone’s chest. Gon’s chest.
“Gon.” Killua choked out, squeezing tears from his closed eyes. The hot droplets fell down onto the back of Gon’s night shirt, staining it. Their chests rose and fell, Killua’s previously frenzied heart rate slowing down to synchronise with that of who he now knew was his best friend. “I…”
“Shh, it’s okay, Killua.” Gon sighed in sympathy, encasing the other boy in his grasp. He leant forward, pressing his nose and mouth against the crown of Killua’s head. Killua felt his eyes brim with tears again, though this was a different breed of liquid emotion.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Gon ushered. Killua looked down at his hands. Scars shaped like crescent moons scattered his palms - ten to be exact. He swiftly realised that, because of how hard he had been clenching his fists, the points of his nails had embedded into the skin below. Gon must have noticed, as he winced, not immune to Killua’s pain. Gon brought Killua’s hands to his mouth, dropping a kiss onto each bloodied mark. More tears threatened to spill from the white haired boy’s shining eyes.
“Want to talk about it?” Gon asked, laying his legs out so that they poked through under Killua’s bent knees. He swayed his feet from side to side, which were cold after being torn from under the blanket so abruptly. Gon didn’t regret rushing to Killua’s side, though. Of course not.
“No.” Killua said, poker faced. Embarrassment was starting to settle in, berating him for letting Gon see what he could really be like. Loud, dramatic, and weak. If Illumi were here, or — God forbid — Silva… Killua wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t to be fed for the foreseeable future. He inwardly wondered what he could do to punish himself for unleashing that abrasive train wreck.
Gon pouted, wanting to do anything in his power to just make Killua look at him. “Hey.” he said gently. Killua didn’t glance up, but he did flinch a little. “Hey, Killua.” he tried again. Raising one tanned hand, Gon dragged it across Killua’s forehead, brushing the boy’s bangs out of his tearful eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against Killua’s pale, clammy temple. He felt the younger boy jolt against his touch. Gon sighed, sitting back on his haunches.
“Don’t worry.” Gon spoke. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” Gon knew that his words were the truth, for when he extended his En he could not sense any danger. And if anyone — or anything — were to attack, they surely wouldn’t have their nen focused on staying safely concealed in Zetsu form, what with Gon and Killua being the sixteen-year-old hunters they were.
“I know.” Killua finally spoke. Though, his voice was still so very low, and barely audible over the hum of the bathroom’s vent. Gon, however, was over the moon that Killua had uttered a thing at all.
Gon leant forward, placing a palm atop one of Killua’s knees, which were tucked up to his chest. Killua’s hair tickled under his chin. “You do?” he urged, trying to get Killua to spit out what had happened. Gon had a good idea of what the scene entailed, though. Killua had always struggled with nightmares, and nights riddled with grotesque visions that his mind both created and resurfaced.
Killua leant his face down, so that it touched both his knees and Gon’s palm. He sat on his hands, and Gon’s heart clenched when he realised it was Killua’s way of showing him that he wouldn’t hurt him. The action was unnecessary; Gon knew Killua would never do anything to injure him. “Mm.” hummed Killua. He turned his head to the side, eyes boring into the wall opposite Gon.
“Um. Are you, you know. Going back into the bed?” Gon asked cautiously, nervously. Killua shook his head after a second’s pause. He watched from the corner of his eye as Gon slowly got to his feet. Killua watched the black sock coated feet pad out of the bathroom, cringing at the way the door squeaked on its hinges.
Hearing the bed springs creak in the other room, Killua had to withhold another sniffle. Pressing his face in his crossed arms, he nuzzled into the little warmth they offered. Right then, he needed someone; anyone. But preferably Gon. And he’d just walked out, leaving Killua on the cold hard floor.
This caused Killua’s mind to wander to places usually barricaded behind rows of neon traffic cones and taught caution tape. With Gon proving that he didn’t really care about Killua, at least not as much as the boy cared about him, it all came tearing down.
Soon, tears were dripping down Killua’s face as if he were a wax candle, aflame with the deep upset within him. Gon’s blinding light had melted the glaciers behind Killua’s eyes, and they were flooding out now, the tide carrying things Killua had thought he’d buried for good. He almost didn’t hear Gon’s reappearing footsteps through his stifled sobs. Almost.
When Gon reentered the bathroom, something large was clasped in his arms. It prevented him from being able to prop open the door and allow himself in. Killua poked one foot forwards to edge it open for him. Sickness gnawed at Killua’s gut, feeding at it in the way fish pecked at scattered oats. He was bound to be reprimanded, for provoking Gon to feel guilty over abandoning Killua for sleep. Killua’s cries had probably dragged him from the bed, after the noise had carried over to where Gon was attempting to fall back into his idealised version of sleep -- light years away from Killua’s own hell that he was pulled into nightly.
However — instead of a filthy mouthful of insults, and maybe a slap on the wrist — Killua received a lapful of duvet dropped on him from above. Before he could look up and meet Gon’s gaze in surprise, the slightly older boy had plopped down on the cold tile next to him.
Killua just watched on as Gon straightened the blanket across Killua’s waist, pulling the other half of the white linen across his own legs, which were crossed indian-style. Shuffling back until his back met the side of the bathtub, Gon leaned his head back against it, face tilted upwards. Killua widened his eyes, finally turning his head towards Gon.
A few minutes passed in silence before Killua spoke. “What are you doing?” Killua asked, voice still small, but slightly louder than it had been previously.
“Sleeping.” Gon replied simply, a small smile stretching across his lips.
“No— What, no. Gon, you can’t sleep here. You need to rest for our hunter commission tomorrow, and it’s uncomfortable here.”
“Ah, so you think so, too.” said Gon smugly, opening one eye to look at Killua. “If it’s so bad, how about we both go back into the bed, then?”
Killua went quiet again, pressing the lower half of his face against his knees. His vision was casted down onto the floor, watching a tiny bundle of towel fluff carry across the floor.
“Well?” Gon pushed, getting impatient, but not necessarily annoyed. It was a bad habit of his.
“M’kay.” Killua whispered, more breath than voice. The small sound was enough to light up Gon’s whole face. Killua found himself flustered in response. It was amazing what Gon could do to a dreary situation.
“Come on, then.” Gon said, getting to his feet. He bundled up the duvet under one arm, stretching out a hand for Killua. Killua took it after a moment’s hesitation, and let Gon pull him to his feet. Gon grinned at him when they were both standing, and Killua felt his heart skip a beat.
Gon walked back into the room ahead of Killua, and stopped to turn when he could no longer hear the patter of footsteps behind him. Killua stood in the entrance to the bathroom, eyeing Gon and the space behind him wearily. Gon’s shoulders drooped and he walked back across to his friend.
“Killua…” Gon spoke, eyes all sympathetic. Killua met his gaze, a dull and stoic expression present across his angelic features. “Come on. You need to sleep; you’ll start hallucinating again, otherwise.”
“I’ll sleep in the bath.” said Killua, turning away from Gon. Gon sighed, threading his hand through his hair.
“No.”
“What?” Killua stopped, mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape and brows lowering.
“I said no — you’re not sleeping in the bathtub. I’m not letting your crappy, awful dreams shape your life.” Gon was insistent, face determined. Killua groaned.
“Just drop it, Gon.” he groaned while climbing into the white acrylic basin. Gon tore into the room after him, plopping himself down on the rim.
“Killua!” he exclaimed when the boy pulled a towel off of the railing and onto his curled form. Killua yanked it up and over his bent knees, tucking himself against the wall. With one sharp tug, he pulled the white translucent shower curtain across, blocking Gon from his view.
Gon gasped, nearly falling off of the bathtub edge. “Hey!” he gaped, pulling the polyester back and away from Killua. Killua scowled up at him.
“Gon, just leave me alone!” he ordered. “I’m fine. Really! You were taking up most of the bed, anyway.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor then!”
Killua huffed, realising that Gon wasn’t going to back down. He opted to just outright ignore him, though Killua knew that would most likely lead to: Gon getting more and more frustrated, which would probably lead to an argument, then to guilty tears from the both of them.
None of those things happened.
“Gon!” Killua yelped, voice reaching full volume as cold water plastered his hair to his head and sent him scrambling out of the bathtub. “What the fuck!”
Gon just laughed as Killua shook off as much of the blindingly cold water as he could manage to. Gon didn’t feel bad for turning on the shower above Killua’s head. Instead, he was quite proud of the move, watching as his best friend rubbed his hands through his soaked hair feverishly.
“Sorry, Killua.” Gon smiled weakly, rubbing the back of his head in a bashful manner. Killua had to hold himself back from slapping the boy; the visible struggle setting Gon’s heart soaring. Killua was — somewhat — back to normal, thanks to his antics.
“Is Killua feeling any better?” Gon tilted his head, and the action reminded Killua of a canine. Lots about Gon did, come to think of it.
“I’m feeling soaked and cold, that’s for certain.” Killua grumbled, eyes looking down at sodden grey socks. Gon grinned, extending a hand.
“Let’s go, then. Come with me, and I promise I’ll never dump water on Killua’s head again!”
“Very tempting offer.” Killua chuckled under his breath, a smile finally making its way to his face. Gon grinned wider. A pale hand then slipped into Gon’s tanned grip, and Killua allowed his best friend to tug him back into the bedroom.
The pair clambered onto the bed, fumbling with the folded-over duvet until it lay neatly across their stretched out bodies. Killua allowed Gon to pull him close, tucking him into his side. Olive arms wound around him, tugging Killua’s face into the crook of Gon’s neck Slightly damp white locks curled against Gon’s sharpening jawline. Killua had neither the energy nor the desire to pull away, instead inhaling two lungfuls of Gon’s homely scent.
Just as Killua was drifting off, he heard Gon speak, voice all scratchy and rumbly with sleep and the age that was coming to both of them too quickly for comfort.
“Killua… You’re safe, now.” he murmured, and Killua felt his face flush. “You don’t need to waste your time worrying about your family anymore. I’ll protect you until my very last breath”
“Mm.” Killua hummed in response, embarrassment prevalent. “I wasn’t.” he said, choosing to ignore that last comment. Gon just sighed, tightening his grasp on his best friend.
“‘Kay. If Killua says so. I love him.” Gon smiled, before dropping a light kiss onto Killua’s temple. The boy tensed, eyes growing impossibly wide in the darkness. He tried to meet Gon’s gaze; question what had just happened, and what it meant for them. Though Gon was already fast asleep, face relaxed and dark eyelashes resting on the tips of well-moulded cheekbones. Killua huffed, face still burning, and positioned himself along the length of Gon. Their legs tangled together under the blankets, and their hearts entwined further by extension.
“Love you, too.” Killua murmured, because Gon wouldn’t hear it. The action still sent Killua reeling, though, and his face burned like fire when he pressed it into their shared pillow.