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“Hey.”
Kurapika looked up as soon as the door clicked open, setting aside his book and sitting upright. He smiled at the sight of Leorio standing in the doorway, who was now kicking off his shoes and shutting the door with the back of his foot. Briefcase in hand, he strode over to Kurapika, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head.
“Hi.” Kurapika looked up, brushing his hand over Leorio’s cheek. “You’re back late.”
Leorio hummed, following up with a long, deep sigh. He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, shaking his head, frustration forming lines around his mouth and eyes. Not even he had the energy to smile.
“Yeah. Got held up a bit. Sorry ‘bout that.”
“You’re fine.” Standing, Kurapika slipped the briefcase out of Leorio’s hand, setting it on the floor. He guided the other to sit, hand firmly on his shoulder. With one long stare, Kurapika knew everything.
Leorio was exhausted. The shift was a wreck. He needed a drink.
“Let me get you something.” Kurapika turned from the couch, looking back for a split second, expecting an audible response. Leorio only nodded, eyes half-closed.
With a frown, Kurapika headed to their kitchen, grabbing a glass from an overhanging shelf. In a nearby cabinet, he retrieved a near-empty bottle of cheap whiskey, setting it on the counter. One shot and three ice cubes later, Kurapika was headed back to Leorio, glass in hand.
“Here,” he murmured, handing it to the other, settling beside him. He eased a hand on Leorio’s back, giving it a few small rubs. “You alright?”
Leorio took a long sip, hissing as he swallowed, alcohol biting his throat. “Depends.” He took another sip. “Let’s see what this does.”
Kurapika hummed, setting his head on Leorio’s shoulder. He smiled as Leorio’s head bumped against his own.
It was a natural instinct to want to take Leorio to bed. He could barely keep his eyes open, drinking at an incredibly lethargic pace, and leaned over half his weight into Kurapika. But it was better like this. In times past, Kurapika took Leorio straight to bed, who happily obliged at first. He was quick to pass out, leaving little to no time to take him out of his scrubs. That’d be the end of it, until Kurapika woke up, seeing that Leorio hadn’t slept a wink all night. Upon talking it over with him, Leorio only managed a solid hour or two of straight sleep, before he’d awoken from the un-released stress from the day before. A cool-off period was mandatory to let Leorio regain what little was left of his energy, letting him manage another day of work at the hospital.
“It was really bad.”
Leorio spoke up, rousing Kurapika from his thoughtful silence, recollecting on what he should and shouldn’t be doing in this situation. He raised his head, looking over, watching as Leorio stared into his cup. Not quite sure what to say, he stayed quiet until Leorio spoke again.
“It wasn’t horribly bad,” he reassured, “because if it was, I’d still be there. But it was just a lot.”
Kurapika nodded, hand sliding up to his shoulder and giving it a small squeeze, urging him to speak at his own pace. He didn’t need details, but he was more than happy to listen if Leorio was willing to provide them. That willingness differed day to day, but Kurapika was patient. He wouldn’t push.
Leorio was quiet for a long time. Kurapika assumed he’d dozed off, but when he peeked up from Leorio’s shoulder where he’d settled again, he still saw him staring into his drink. His eyes were glassy. Kurapika took that as his cue to speak up.
“You alright?”
The noise Leorio made in response was strangled. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened again, then shook his head. His head fell in his free hand, the other clutching tight around his glass. He was trembling.
“Take your time.”
It felt like an eternity before Leorio spoke again. His voice was wet, matching the tears in his eyes, a duo that Kurapika wasn’t fond of seeing. Leorio, although more in-tune with his emotions than Kurapika, wasn’t much of a crier. Not a sad crier, at least. It unsettled Kurapika, but he stayed quiet, letting Leorio take up all the space he needed to.
“We lost a kid today.” Leorio wiped his unspilled tears, sniffling, then took a quick sip of the now-watery whisky. “It’s not unheard of with what I do, stuff happens, they reach their limit.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “I thought I’d be used to it by now, considering everything, but uh.. I just.. he…” he waved his hand like he was trying to grasp the words out of thin air, but failed.
And yet, he didn’t need to say anything further. Kurapika filled in the blanks for him.
“Gon?”
Leorio’s poorly-hidden sob was enough confirmation.
It had been a few years since the incident. Kurapika didn’t know a lot of details. He still felt guilty for ignoring his family, even if he was in such a pivotal point of his search for his fallen brethren. He should’ve called back at least once, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on his mistakes. Leorio, understandably, was beyond pissed at his lack of support, even if the initial situation had smoothed out by the time they’d been reunited. But even with all the pain and anger towards each other and towards the world, they worked it out. They always did.
Kurapika once asked about it after everything had calmed down. In previous fits of rage from Leorio, Kurapika gathered that Gon was hospitalized and on his deathbed, but that was the extent of his knowledge. There were no details on how he’d gotten there, how serious his injuries were, or what had happened to fix everything. When asked, the faraway look in Leorio’s eyes was enough to deter Kurapika from pressing any further, even after he was offered a short, yet vague, explanation.
“There was a fight, Gon was reckless. Sustained full-body injuries. Comatose for a while. Don’t know how he got out of it. ‘S’bout it, really.”
That left Kurapika with more questions, but he didn’t have the strength to press Leorio further. He’d come to accept that he’d be in the dark about it for a long, long time.
What Kurapika did know was the toll it took on Leorio. It wasn’t uncommon to wake up in the middle of the night to find Leorio absent from bed, talking on the phone with someone in the kitchen. The conversations followed a steady format that Kurapika had memorized by now.
“Answer your damn phone, kid,” he’d hear, “that was the fifth time I rang you.”
A pause.
“I’m okay. How ‘bout you? Kill and ‘Luka doing alright?”
Then there’d be a few minutes of steady back and forth, before Leorio was walking back to bed, laying close to Kurapika.
“You okay?” he’d ask. Leorio offered him a questionably stable smile.
“I am now. Sorry for waking you.”
Then Leorio would settle back into bed, pushing the rest of his worries aside for the time being. Kurapika always held tight onto Leorio’s hand until morning came.
There were nightmares, too. Plenty of them. The “freaks,” Leorio would call them, and Kurapika was never sure if it was a play on words or not. Regardless, even if Leorio would downplay any and all signs of anxiety from the what if’s, Kurapika would take it as seriously as Leorio would let him. Leorio knew just as well as Kurapika what it was like to lose someone, and it was horrifying to imagine the thought of losing anyone else, especially if said person had already been at death’s door. Even with all of his reassurances, Kurapika knew he couldn’t take Leorio’s worries away, and vice versa. It took years to get where they were now, being able to live in the present instead of the past, but there would always be that dull feeling that sprung back unannounced.
This was just another one of those times.
Leorio wasn’t able to stop his tears as he shook, his cup almost hitting the floor, just saved by Kurapika reaching to catch it and set it on the table. Leorio covered his face with his hand, the other one clutching his knee, taking every ounce of strength to hold everything in. He’d done it far too often now, and Kurapika would do everything in his power to put a stop to it. If he was encouraged and allowed to be emotional, Leorio would be too.
“Leorio.” Kurapika shifted, sliding an arm around his back, coaxing him into a warm embrace. “Leo. You can cry. It’s okay.”
Tentatively, Leorio gave in. His hands moved to Kurapika’s back, fingers twitching until they were gripping the fabric of his shirt. He inched closer, almost as if he was still unsure, faltering as Kurapika moved into his lap to close the distance between them. Gentle as ever, Kurapika kept one arm secure on his back as his other slid to cradle the back of his head, hand weaving through his short, messy hair.
Leorio made his home on Kurapika's shoulder. He sniffed, choked on another harsh breath, before letting out a heaving, shaky sigh. Kurapika drew him impossibly closer, kissing the side of his head.
“You know how you’re always here for me?” Kurapika asked, steady and soothing. “Let me be here for you. You don’t need to carry this alone.”
Kurapika felt an uneven, stuttering exhale in the fabric of his shirt.
“What do you need right now?”
There was a pause in Leorio’s unsteady breathing, mustering the strength to choke out two words.
“Just this.”
Kurapika nodded, pressing a longer kiss to Leorio’s temple. He moved his fingertips in slow circles through Leorio’s hair, scratching in all the right places on his head. With every passing second, Leorio relaxed, becoming more sure in letting Kurapika keep him close.
Besides the occasional kiss to the temple and the gentle rhythm of scratching Leorio’s head, Kurapika stayed still, letting Leorio take all the time he needed to settle. He didn’t say anything, giving Leorio the space to straighten his thoughts in silence. It was rare being so close together for so long, and Kurapika didn’t want to do or say anything that could possibly disrupt this moment.
They were here, together, alive. They were living just for living’s sake.
It felt as if hours had passed between them until Leorio pulled away from Kurapika. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, sniffling, then moved to take care of the excess tears in his eyes. Kurapika kept his hands on Leorio’s arms, rubbing up to his shoulders.
“Better?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.”
With a nod, Kurapika stood, keeping his hand on Leorio’s shoulder until the last second before he stepped away. He came back with tissues in hand, settling against his side once more as Leorio blew the snot away.
“I’m sorry.”
Kurapika peeked up, looking at Leorio’s profile. His tears hadn’t quite subsided.
“For?”
“That.” Leorio shrugged, wiping his eyes again. “Shouldn’t have put that on you, it was just a long day.”
Frowning, Kurapika took the side of Leorio’s face, tilting it so they were looking at each other. Sweet as ever, Kurapika cupped Leorio’s cheek, rubbing a gentle thumb under his watery eye.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Leorio broke eye contact, but Kurapika didn’t force him to look back. “You can be upset. Life happens, and you’re allowed to respond to it.”
Leorio hummed with a small nod, but Kurapika wasn’t buying it.
“I’m more than happy to be here, you know. I care about you, Leo. I care about the good and the bad.”
Eye contact had been re-established.
“I’m here for you.” Kurapika smiled. “Always.”
Leorio moved in for another hug, and he wasn’t as tentative this time. Kurapika accepted him into his arms without question, his arms tight and reassuring.
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” Kurapika murmured, kissing Leorio’s head. He didn’t need thanking.
A long moment passed between them, and Kurapika could tell the exhaustion had creeped back into Leorio’s senses. He felt heavy, and he heard his breath slow. Before he could fall asleep, Kurapika roused him with a little shake, holding his head steady with his hand.
“Let’s get to bed.”
Leorio looked up, a small smile gracing his lips for the first time that night.
“Please. I’m beat.”
With one final kiss to Leorio’s head, Kurapika stood, dragging the other up with him. Together, they hobbled to their cramped bedroom, Leorio nearly crashing into bed if it weren’t for Kurapika keeping him steady. As quick as he could, Kurapika helped Leorio into clean, comfortable clothes, forbidding him from contaminating their sheets with hospital gunk and germs. Kurapika helped Leorio slip into a tank top and loose shorts, even if he’d protested at first.
“I love you and your profession. I also love clean sheets.”
It was nice to hear Leorio laugh a little at that.
Kurapika, now settled on his back, ran his fingers through Leorio’s hair. He was nestled under Kurapika’s chin, a gangly arm stretching across his chest, legs hooking around his own and locking him in place. Kurapika didn’t complain. Instead, he listened to the rhythm of Leorio’s gentle breathing that soon morphed into steady snores. He cherished every moment.
Sometimes, it was nice to just be.