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“Leorio! Come over here and help me explain why socks should stay in pairs and sharing them is gross,” Kurapika yells from the living room.
“Huh?” Comes the reply from the kitchen.
“Aww, jeez Kurapika, they’re just socks!” Groans Killua, a twinkle of malice in his startlingly blue eyes. “You and Leorio kissing all the time is way grosser than sharing articles of clothing.”
Kurapika goes red, managing to respond with a glare. “You two have especially smelly feet. And just so you know, Leorio and I are in a loving relationship. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Wow, playing the ‘you grew up with horrible, toxic examples of family behaviour and therefore can’t judge my relationship’ card are we?” Killua kicks his feet up on the arm of the sofa.
Gon bounds into the room, sliding across the wooden floors in his mismatched socks, one grey and obviously belonging to Killua, the other patterned with a colourful fish design and definitely not made to be worn together.
“Killua doesn’t mind me wearing his socks! Right Killua?” Gon asks with a wink, hazel eyes bright as ever. “Besides, he wears mine as well. It's a symbiotic relationship.”
Killua nods in agreement.
“You’ve been watching too many nature documentaries,” states Kurapika.
“But I love animals! And you can never watch too many nature documentaries.”
Kurapika sighs in exasperation. “Honey, please back me up on this.”
Leorio finally walks into the room, mouth stuffed with a bagel.
“They’re just socks,” he mumbles through the mouthful. “No need to get so worked up.” That earns him a light swat on the side. “Ow!”
“Yes, well, it’s certainly not helpful when I’m trying to wash the clothes and I can’t find the pairs for any of their socks!”
“You’ve become so domestic, Kurapika,” grins Killua. “Or should we call you ‘mommypika’?”
A flash of scarlet-red eyes shuts him up. Though the apron and scarf keeping his hair back doesn’t aid Kurapika’s cause.
Leorio laughs from his belly, almost choking on his bagel. “Ha! Mommypika! That’s a good one!” Tears almost spring from his eyes, he’s laughing so hard.
“Always one for a dad joke, aren’t you?” Kurapika scoffs. “Maybe ‘daddy’ would suit you better. Hmm?”
Leorio flushes, swallowing the last of his food abruptly. “‘Pika - not in front of the kids -” he chokes out.
Killua smirks mischievously, knowingly. Gon is oblivious to the situation.
“Sharing socks isn’t gross! You wash them anyway,” he says, avoiding the tension in the air.
“Yes, well, maybe you should wash them yourself.” Kurapika turns back to the pile of washing he was folding. He’d given up on trying to pair Killua and Gon’s socks, resorting to a single pile of random ones.
“I don’t mind! You’ll help me, eh Killua?” Gon says, enthusiastically.
“Hell no! I have better things to do.”
“Like what?” He asks.
“I dunno… practising with my yoyo?” Killua shrugs. “Anything is better than doing extra chores.”
Kurapika frowns. “You need to at least do something to earn your keep! It’s expensive to manage a household. Especially with Leorio busy at medical school most of the time.”
Leorio looks sheepish.
“I’m not blaming you at all, Leo. I’m happy you are actively accomplishing your dreams,” Kurapika clarifies. “But you two are just freeloaders.”
Killua rolls his eyes. “Well you kind of pretty much adopted us. I’d be happy enough sleeping under the stars if it meant I could go on adventures with Gon.” Gon nods eagerly at that. “You basically begged us to stay with you - something about ‘being worried for our safety because we’re so reckless’.”
Kurapika opens his mouth and closes it again. “Touche.”
He throws another stripy sock on the ever growing pile, and Gon sits down next to Killua on the edge of the couch, swinging his feet, practically flaunting their mismatched-ness.
“I personally think wearing two different socks is a fashion statement!” Leorio pipes up.
“You don’t know anything about fashion, all you wear is that ugly blue suit everyday,” Killua argues.
“Well - Gon only ever wears that green two piece!” He splutters.
“Gon is an exception.”
“It's a choice,” Gon explains. “How else are people going to recognise the son of the greatest hunter ever?”
Killua, Leorio and Kurapika look from his unmistakable spiky green hair to his signature broad, beaming smile.
“See? Point in case,” he says, clearly satisfied with the reaction.
“Gon…” Kurapika begins.
“No - let him have this,” Killua mumbles.
Leorio checks the time on his watch. “Shoot! I’m going to be late for med school!”
He grabs his briefcase and pulls on his shoes, rushing around to kiss Kurapika on the cheek. Killua turns away, pretending to vomit as Gon laughs.
“See you later kids!” He yells as he runs out the door.
“We’re not your kids!” Killua yells back.
Gon turns to face him. “I like to think of them as our honorary parents,” he whispers.
Kurapika smiles softly at the comment. He may only be a few years older, but the fact that they treat him like a substitute parent warms his heart.
“There’s nothing I can say to make you stop wearing each other's clothes?” Kurapika asks, already knowing the answer. It doesn’t really bother him that much, even if he is a stickler for order.
“Nope, Killua has way cooler clothes than me!” Gon grins.
“Heck yeah I do,” Killua replies. “Sometimes having wealthy assassins for parents has its perks.”
They continue to bicker playfully as Kurapika finishes folding the washing, completely absorbed in their own world. It’s times like this when Kurapika feels so incredibly lucky to have such a good life.
Sure, things were hard when he was younger, you know, Spiders and all, but life was good now. He had Leorio, Killua and Gon had each other, and things were looking up. He heard Killua snicker at a remark from Gon, saying that they should continue swapping socks just to push Kurapika’s buttons.
“And then we’ll start wearing theirs as well - if we don’t get caught!”
Wishful thinking, Gon. Wishful thinking.