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Last night was another one of those bad nights. The ones that are so dark and threatening that the only way to be saved is by pulling the blankets a little closer and praying nightmares and overbearing thoughts don't swallow you whole.
He supposes it's not entirely his fault. Gon reminds him at least once a week of that one. Killua is not his past. It does not define him. He did not ask to grow up the way he did. He's allowed to not be okay. It's not weak, and it's not his fault... and all the other bullshit. Gon rants and rants about it so much that he imagines he'd be able to build palaces out of paragraphs should he ever write them down.
It's sweet, of course, that he made it his mission to give back to Killua, to try to remind him of his forgotten worth. Killua always gives, but never allows himself to indulge, to take. Be selfish, Killua! You deserve more than just chocorobos and unresolved trauma! Truth be told, though, Killua wasn't sure if he'd ever really believe him. He knows he doesn't deserve the love Gon bestows upon him, even if he never says it in such verbiage. Not yet, at least. After everything they've been through, after being apart for two years and sticking to each other once again, for Gon to still desire his friendship and presence is a blessing as is. He can't allow himself to indulge, to be selfish and keep him and his embarrassing words all to himself, no matter how badly he craves it. That's too cruel, too unfair to lock Gon's eyes on silver hair and blue eyes and never allow him to see anyone else. He could never force himself on Gon, make him stay with him so he doesn't feel alone again.
He just doesn't deserve to bask in so much sunlight.
So once again, today he is stuck in the shade after a night of moonlit horrors.
Upon waking up he is sure Gon caught on to his night terrors, for he wakes up wrapped in warm arms and soft breaths just below his chin, legs tangled beneath layers of blankets. His eyes sting as images run through his head, thoughts of his family hurting the two people he cared most about in the world raking shaky breathes from his lungs. It was just a dream, that's all. Just his brain's coping with years and years of trauma placed upon him as a child. No, it's not his fault, but remembering all of the times he has messed up, he can't help but feel like he deserves it.
Gon feels the shift in his breathing, steady becoming rough and heavy, and slowly his eyes flutter open, gold rushing up to meet icy blue. Killua remembers then when they first met. He remembers the instant connection; the way he genuinely felt like this boy was someone he could be a kid with, someone who would laugh at jokes and stay up all night fighting with him. Of course, back then he had never expected he'd travel around the word and fall in love with him, but hey, ex-assassins don't know everything.
"Killua?" he mumbles, the question barely audible from Gon's hidden mouth, face snuggled closer into Killua (so much so he can't breathe right-). Anyone whose ears weren't trained to strain for the boy's voice likely would have missed it.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
And suddenly his world stops spinning.
It happens every time, honestly. He's still not entirely used to the idea of someone caring for him enough to ask if he was okay. At the beginning of his training, when he was so young he could barely talk right, Illumi used to mention that he was proud and his mother used to rub his back when he would puke, but that quickly faded away. Kindness ran out faster than he had wished, and he was left with the emotionless void that was the Zoldyck family.
But Gon isn't like Killua, or the Zoldycks. He's full of emotion and empathy and compassion. He watches Killua with doe eyes, wins card games with grace, and pulls him closer on hard nights. He's everything Killua is not. Of course, if he were to ever dare utter such a sentence to Gon he'd never hear the end of it, so he settles for looking away when sometimes Gon's smile is just a little too bright and his eyes are filled with too much adoration.
"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"Killua's lying."
"And how would you know?" He sticks his tongue out, cautious of the lack of space between them.
His face is serious, caramel eyes shining with concern. "Killua's breathing isn't as soft and soothing. He smells of worry and cold sweat. And he hasn't pushed my cuddles away, so he must have had a bad dream involving me."
Sputtering, Killua's face tints a pretty shade of pink, porcelain being gently painted. He knows his face is bright red and wonders how Gon must feel making him blush so early in the morning. He usually gets at least another hour. "I forget you're so attentive. Drives me crazy."
Gon only hums, readjusting his position so he can hold Killua, gently carding his fingers through his hair. His curls are always crazy first thing in the morning. "Does Killua want to talk about it?"
"N-no, stupid. I'm fine," he mumbles, cheeks a darker red at the feeling of a light hand dancing through the snow-like curls that held a home atop his head. Quietly, he adds, "You're here. I'm fine."
He knows Gon hears it, because similarly to him, Gon has a special way of always hearing Killua, being able to even memorize his silent footsteps that took months of training to perfect (he was a fast learner, after all). He feels Gon smile, ducking his head into the curls his hand still roamed, and he holds him a little closer, taking it in. Usually Killua would fight him on this, call him an idiot and force himself to push away, but he's so tired of fighting himself. He's tired in general, last night sucking him into a never ending hole of darkness, and just for once he wants to allow himself to be ever-so-slightly selfish, to bask in the sunlight for just five more minutes, five more delicate moments. He lets his arms snake around Gon and releases a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
"Killua?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know that you can cuddle me any time, and not just on bad nights? I like the cuddles anyways, so it's not at all being selfish. I'm the one being selfish, in all honesty."
Baffled, Killua retorts, "How is it not selfish for me, but it's selfish for you? That makes no sense, idiot!"
Gon chuckles, pink tinting his cheeks. "It's selfish because Killua looks so cute and I know staring is rude and you don't like when people mess with your hair but I just can't help it! Killua is just so pretty all of the time, even when he's sad. But when he's sad, I'm sad, so I want to make him feel better!"
That- his heart legitimately explodes and Killua thinks he might die at the age of sixteen, wrapped in green blankets and Gon and he thinks he'll die happy. What a sappy death that'd be, too. Dying with cheeks the colors of the most beautiful flowers, surrounded by forest green (a color he'd grown to both love and hate.. such a tragedy to die surrounded by green) and the boy he's slowly learned to allow himself to love (even if he won't allow himself to be loved back). "I'm okay Gon, I promise!"
Gon smiles tiredly, eyes filled with honesty and a saccharine sadness, one he feels not only for Killua but with Killua and it sends a ping of guilt down his spine. "I know you're okay, Killua. You're amazing, and you can withstand anything. But I want to take care of you- No, I want you to let yourself be taken care of. I want you to let me love you. It's what Killua deserves."
KIllia shudders at his words, eyes tearing up and he glaces away as Gon shines too brightly. Maybe, just maybe, I can let him love me. If he wants it, it can't be selfish, can it? He smiles at him, a soft and unsure smile but a smile all the same."Okay Gon."
He spends the whole day in bed getting cuddled and eating chocorobos while watching terrible romcoms. Maybe being loved isn't so bad, afterall.