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“You look really lovely this evening.”
Killua can’t stand the way the man across the table is looking at him. Hungry eyes sliding up and down his body, tongue coming out to lick his lips. Like Killua was a prize for him to win or something. Everything about that look made Killua feel dirty and gross. He could decapitate this man before he’d even realized that Killua had moved- it would be as easy as crushing a bug. He could rip his heart out, or puncture his lungs, or at the very least crush some of his bones. This man, however, was his boss. So he takes a sip of his wine instead.
“Mmm.” Of course he looks nice, was he supposed to dress like a waif to go to a fancy restaurant? There’s no attempt to hide his disinterest, which does nothing to deter the man from leering at him while Killua traces idle circles around the rim of his wine glass. He’s here on a job, no more, no less. It’s not the time to let his temper get the best of him. Still, this night couldn’t end soon enough, and they’d only just gotten there and ordered drinks.
“The lobster here is fantastic. Have you ever had lobster?” It’s so condescending, as if Killua was a street urchin or something. Has he ever had lobster, oh please. Does this man realize he’s sitting across from a Zoldyke? The urge to roll his eyes is so strong it’s hard to ignore, but he’s a professional damnit. He will maintain his decorum until he can’t anymore.
“Of course I have. I’m more interested in the steak,” Killua eyes the menu lazily, looking around for their waiter. The sooner they can order food, the sooner this boring mission can end. I mean, really, who hires a bodyguard, just to go out to dinner? This man is a creep, sure, but he can’t have that many enemies. Easy money, at least. He hadn’t taken a mission in a while, too afraid to trigger his violent nature, and he and Alluka tended to eat enough food for four people. So bringing money into the house was good and welcome. He could do this. One dinner.
“Red meat, huh? I’ve always found steak to be overrated. You know, they bring the lobsters in fresh. Seafood is very good for you, did you know that? Red meat… not so much. They say red meat is linked to heart disease.”
“I’ll take my chances.” After everything he’s been through, Killua has strong doubts that a piece of filet would be his undoing.
“Do you want an appetizer?”
“Don’t care.”
“You should drink more of your wine. You seem tense.” Killua wants to snort at this. Like he could get drunk off wine anyway. Shit, he wishes he could get a buzz. Maybe then this wouldn’t be such a drag. Regardless, he takes a sip of his wine, which seems to please the man.
“So you say there are men after you?” Killua raises an eyebrow at the man, speaking over the rim of his glass.
“Oh yes, very dangerous men.”
“And, Mr-”
“Just call me Itsuki. Or Sir, if you prefer,” he gives Killua a grin that makes the younger man’s blood absolutely boil.
“Fine, Itsuki. What is it again that you do for a living? You must have a dangerous job.”
“I’m involved with Wall Street. Stocks, and the likes.” Killua wasn’t an idiot, even if this man thought that he was. That was code for bootlegging. He probably owed a whole bunch of people money.
The waiter interrupts Killua from further analyzing Itsuki. “Gentlemen, were we ready to order?”
“Ah, yes. I think we’ll do the sashimi to start. And then we’ll take two orders of the lobster. Also, get my friend here another glass of wine.” Killua narrows his eyes at Itsuki while the waiter pulls their menus away.
“I said I wanted the steak.”
Itsuki waves his hand dismissively. “The lobster is much better. Besides, you have such a trim figure-” His once again lewdly eyes Killua up and down, and Killua flushes, mostly out of anger. “You don’t want to ruin a body like that with red meat.”
“I don’t think my body is any of your business.”
“Sweetheart, you made it my business when you showed up wearing that.”
Killua can’t help but feel a little self conscious, looking down at the strappy gold dress he had chosen to wear. It was snug to his body, stopping halfway to his knees. He hadn’t thought much about it when he put it on, but now he wishes he had worn anything else.
“You told me to dress nice,” he spits coldly at the man.
“Hey, no need to be so defensive. This is a nice place. You fit in great here.” Itsuki winks at him, and Killua just scowls back, falling into silence while the waiter drops another glass of wine off at the table, waiting patiently for Killua to finish the last few sips in his first glass so he can bus it.
“So you live near here?” The man leans back a little in his chair, his tone curious.
“I live in the city,” Killua answers vaguely. “Doesn’t matter where.”
“So guarded. Tch.” Killua thought this was a pretty idiotic observation, considering the man hired him to be a bodyguard, and it takes a tremendous amount of self control not to say so. “I live in a high rise near Heaven’s Arena, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Brights Towers. I have such an incredible view of the city, I’d be happy to share it with you after dinner, if you’re interested.”
“Our contract states that you’ve hired me for this dinner. Just. This. Dinner. My obligation ends when you’re safely in your car.”
“So uptight, yeesh. Have a drink, relax a little. We’re having fun, aren’t we?”
Killua’s grip around the stem of his glass tightens. “Maybe you are,” he spits, under his breath. Itsuki laughs at this.
“Oh, lighten up. Look, here comes the sashimi.” The plate is set in front of them and Killua is grateful for a break in the conversation while the two start picking at the food. Of course, Itsuki doesn’t let the conversation stay dead for too long.
“So how old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty,” Killua answers, not looking up from his plate. “I got my Hunter license when I was twelve.” He shoves a piece of raw fish into his mouth.
“Wow, how fascinating. You really are an incredible specimen.” He nearly chokes on the fish in his mouth, horrified by Itsuki’s choice of words. Like he was some prize animal at the fair or something. Killua’s resolve was starting to break. His whole life he’s gone on missions that have involved being kicked, punched, stabbed, tortured, poisoned, punctured, the list goes on and on. Yet somehow this mission was one of the most unpleasant yet. He’d put it right up there with being used as a human dart board and almost bleeding out. 500 million jenny this rich bastard was offering, for one night of protection. Killua takes a deep breath, tries to think of Alluka. They need the money. It’s either this, or start taking jobs that require him to be violent, maybe even kill. Although killing Itsuki was starting to sound pretty tempting.
“You wouldn’t guess it, but I’m in my forties.” Killua absolutely would have guessed it, because he very blatantly looks like a man who’s in his forties. “I’m young in spirit, of course. And I’ve been told I still have the stamina of an eighteen year old, if you catch my drift.” Killua catches his drift, of course, but pretends not to. He swirls his wine around in his glass and focuses on not turning his nails into claws. Killing is wrong. Although there was definitely a special spot in Hell for this asshole to rot.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look like you’re absolute dynamite in bed.” Under the table, a hand reaches up to grip his inner thigh, just below the hem of his dress.
And there it was. 500 million jenny was so not worth it. Hell, he would pay 500 million jenny to get the hell out of here right now. Not that he has that kind of money, but still. He needs to leave, now, before this gets any uglier.
“I think,” he hisses through ground teeth, smacking the hand away with enough force to cause Itsuki to wince, “It’s time for me to go.”
“Go? But we haven’t even gotten our dinner.”
“You hired me as a Hunter. You hired me to be your bodyguard. And instead, you’ve been treating me like some sort of paid whore.”
Itsuki just laughs at him, snide and condescending, and Killua sees red. “I mean, you did show up wearing that. You know what they say, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck-” he doesn’t have time to finish that thought before Killua’s entire glass of cabernet is splashed directly in his face. Killua pulls himself away from the table, practically shaking with how bad he wants to hurt this man. Killing is wrong. The man screams in surprise, blinded temporarily by the alcohol dripping into his eyes, and scrambles for a napkin.
“Keep your damn money.” The whole restaurant stares as Killua storms out.
A torrent of emotions rush through him as he slams the door shut behind him, stepping out into damp night air. It’s much cooler than it was when he left the house, and he doesn’t know why he chose to wear this stupid dress in the first place. A tornado of rage and revulsion, shame and disgust rips through him, and he hugs his arms around himself without realizing he’s doing so, an unconscious effort to cover up. He’s so angry that someone spoke to him like that, so disgusted he allowed for it to go on for as long as it did. He wants to go home and rip this stupid dress to shreds, scrub his skin until it bleeds and strips away all the filthy feelings this man had sparked. He hates Itsuki, hates him so much he wishes he had done more than just throw a glass of wine in his face. Killing is wrong. How can one person make him feel so dirty and disgusted with himself? After everything he’s been through and accomplished with his Hunter license, this pathetic worm of a man had the nerve to reduce him to nothing more than a glorified prostitute. Eye candy to ogle while he ate his stupid fucking lobster.
Still standing in front of the restaurant, Killua starts rage-crying. He hates rage-crying. He pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes, as if he can use them to hold the tears in. His whole body is shaking, and not just from the cold air hitting his exposed legs and shoulders. People are probably staring at him, but fuck it, he’s so angry he doesn’t care.
“Killua?”
A familiar voice, clear as day, slices through him like a knife. Suddenly the whole night seems to stand still. It couldn’t be… Could it?
He pulls his hands away from his face and stares in absolute disbelief, blue eyes wet and wide. Surely he must be hallucinating. That bastard probably slipped something in his drink when he wasn’t looking.
“G-Gon?!”
Killua hasn’t seen Gon in seven years, not since that day at the World Tree. He assumed a long time ago that Gon had forgotten about him, although his heart ached for Gon every single day. What the actual fuck was Gon doing in Yorknew City, in front of Tavern on the Bay of all places?
The two just stare at each other for a moment, both looking like they’ve seen a ghost. In a way it sort of was like seeing a ghost, at least for Killua, a ghost of a past that hurt to think about, even the good stuff. It’s like the whole world’s stopped, even with years of ingrained assassin training in his head Killua has no awareness of his surroundings. All he can focus on are those honey-gold eyes, reflecting the streetlights, scrunched with concern. Why did Gon look so damn concerned? Oh right, probably because he was crying.
Gon’s the first to speak, after what seems like an eon of silence. “Killua, what’s wro-” His question is cut off by the noise of the restaurant door a few feet away being kicked open. A man stomps out, his suit covered in wine.
“You stupid little bitch, did you forget I hired you to be here?” Killua’s in so much shock he doesn’t even react when Itsuki roughly grabs his elbow and spins him around to face him, completely ignoring Gon’s presence. “This suit is worth more than your entire life is, you pathetic little whore!” He raises his hand like he’s going to hit Killua, who’s too stunned to fight back. It feels like his brain has been shut off. Error 404, thoughts not found. He closes his eyes, waiting for the blow to come.
Instead there is the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting a face, and suddenly the grip on Kil’s elbow is gone. His eyes fly back open to see Itsuki laying on the ground, blood coming from his nose, unconscious, and Gon rubbing his knuckles.
“Whoops. Didn’t mean to hit him that hard.” Gon’s voice is so casual, like he’s talking about the weather or something. He turns to Killua and gives him a sheepish grin. “So, uh. Bad date, huh?”
“Gon…” It takes a tremendous amount of effort for Killua to actually start choking out words. “I- what the hell are you doing here?”
“I was just out for a walk. I live a couple blocks away.”
“Y-you live here?! Since when?!”
“Mmm… A couple months now. I got bored of Whale Island, and I wanted to be closer to Leorio and Kurapika. I didn’t know you lived here too…”
“Oh,” Killua whispers dryly, heart thumping sickly heavy in his chest.
“Do you want to go sit somewhere and talk? You look like you could use a hot chocolate.”
And so Killua finds himself shuffling numbly alongside Gon, leaving Itsuki’s unconscious body right there in front of the restaurant. Fuck that bastard, anyway. They don’t say much to each other, and Killua wonders if Gon is calculating what he’s going to say or if he’s just feeling as much anxiety as Killua is.
“Here, I come here a lot.” Gon pulls Killua inside a little cafe and orders them two hot chocolates, which they take outside to the little patio. It’s right on the water, all the colorful lights of the city bleeding into the dark waves lapping gently at the shore. The air smells like salt water and cooking meat from all the restaurants nearby. Killua has unconsciously gone back to crossing his arms, trying to cover himself up and shrink away all at the same time. Gon frowns at him.
“You look cold. We are right on the water... Here, you can wear this.” He quickly pulls off the tan denim jacket he’s wearing and holds it out to Killua, who stares at it like he’s never seen a jacket before in his life.
“Gon…”
“C’mon, take it. It’s fine, I’ve got a long sleeved shirt on!”
Killua hesitates for a moment before accepting the jacket, pulling it over his arms and pulling it closed. After everything that’s happened, he just wants to cover up his body. It smells just like Gon, musky and spicy, and it’s so familiar and warm that it nearly knocks the wind out of him. It had been seven long years since the last time he got to smell Gon, or see him, or touch him, or sit with him.
“See, isn’t that better?” Gon smiles at him, taking a sip of his cocoa. He’s so different now, so much more mature, but when he smiles he’s like the same thirteen-year-old punk who had parted ways with Killua at the world tree. He’s maddeningly handsome, which somehow just makes Killua feel even worse about himself.
“Gon…” He stares down at the mug in his hands, trying to find the right words to say. What must Gon think of him, after everything that just happened? He has to be disgusted by him. He can only imagine what Gon was assuming about the nature of his relationship with Itsuki, after everything the man had said.
“What’s wrong, Killua?” The blue eyed boy can feel his face heating up with shame, a few tears starting to prick again in the corner of his eyes. He tries to will them away.
“I… that wasn’t… what it looked like.”
“Hmm?” Gon looks confused. “You mean that guy?”
“I wasn’t… I mean, he hired me as a Hunter. To be a bodyguard. I didn’t… I’m not a prostitute or anything.” His face goes red with humiliation, unable to look at Gon, who’s jaw drops. He’s waiting for Gon to say something nasty to him, or to express doubt in what Killua was saying, but to his surprise Gon just laughs an earnest, genuine laugh.
“Ohmygod, Killua! You’re ridiculous! I didn’t think you were a prostitute! Jeeze! I mean, I have nothing against sex work, but I seriously never thought that at all! How do you come up with this stuff?”
“I- what he said- and I’m wearing-” Killua gestures down at his outfit, thoroughly embarrassed.
“Dude, I just figured it was a bad date! Or that he was like, I don’t know, your boyfriend or something. And then I’d really have to kick his ass. And besides, you look great! I mean… I’ve never seen you wear a dress before. It looks really pretty on you.”
Killua once again buries his face in his hands. “S-shut up!”
“No! It’s true! You look nice, Killua. You don’t look like a prostitute, if that’s what you’re thinking. Did that guy say something to you about your outfit or something? He did, didn’t he?” The laughter dies away, and there’s a glimmer of suppressed anger in Gon’s rich topaz eyes.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I will worry about it! Tell me what he said!”
Killua finally takes his hands away from his face but still doesn’t look at Gon. “Nothing you didn’t already hear, mostly.” Gon’s lips press into a thin line. “Besides, what do you care, anyway?” He picks up his mug of cocoa and takes a sip.
“Why wouldn’t I care? You’re my best friend, he can’t just say stuff like that to you!”
“Best friend?! I- we- Gon, it’s been seven damn years!”
“So?”
“So?! So-” Killua struggles to find a point. “So we haven’t so much as spoken on the phone!”
“Killua, I thought about you every day. Didn’t you think about me?” Killua’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest.
“Of course I did,” he says thinly. “But you never… you never called.”
Gon frowns into his mug. “I just… I knew I hurt you. I knew I treated you badly, and I was… I was so ashamed of that. I wanted to give you space, so that you could see… that the way I treated you wasn’t okay. That you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
“Gon, you didn’t-”
“Don’t, Killua. Please just don’t. We both know I used you. I started getting my memories back, about East Gorteau… I said horrible things to you. I did horrible things. I didn’t reach out because I needed you to see that you deserve better. And I needed to take time to work on myself, so that when we did finally see each other, I wouldn’t treat you like that again.”
“I wasn’t a perfect person, either…”
“It’s not the same,” Gon shakes his head. “You shouldn’t make excuses for me, Killua. I had a problem and I had to do some serious work on myself to fix that.”
“I never minded,” Killua blurts out. “That you treated me like that. I never minded. I was just happy to be with you.” Gon gives him such a sorrowful look, he immediately regrets saying anything.
“Killua… you should never have to settle for that kind of love.”
Killua doesn’t know what to say, and a silence stretches out between the two. Finally he asks; “So what now?”
“Well… I want to get to know you again. I know that much. And I want you to get to know me again, now that I’m better! And I want to love you the right way, the way I should have been loving you the whole time!” Gon was really on a roll with stopping Killua’s world in its tracks tonight. Love? Gon, what are you saying… Did Killua really deserve this kind of love? “I want to hang out with you again, and be close to you, and be together all the time… Like we were. Do you think you’d be okay with that, Killua?”
Killua looks out at the lights of the city and the glow of the moon shimmering on the surface of the water, a faint breeze ruffling his long silver locks. Tonight had been a shit show, an absolute humdinger of an emotional roller coaster, but right now, Killua’s heart felt warm. He looks back at Gon, all sunkissed skin and warm-honey eyes, and can’t help but to smile.
“I think I’d really like that.”