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He stood outside, eyes cast through the glass of the window, picking at the skin around his nails. He watched as two men, the tattoo artists who worked there, conversed with each other with wide smiles on their faces.
He was ten minutes late for his appointment, and the longer he stood outside, staring in at the two of them like some creep, the more anxious he felt.
Forget it. He wasn’t one that looked like he would even have a tattoo, so it probably wouldn’t suit him anyway.
He turned away from the window, walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the entrance to the tattoo parlor. There was a sudden ring of a bell—probably someone entering the shop—so he ignored it.
“Hey,” a voice called out—sounding almost panicked—making him stop and turn his head to peer over his shoulder, “We saw you standing outside for a little while. Were you the one o’ clock? Gon, right?”
The voice belonged to one of the men from inside, who now stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a leg wedged in between the shop door and its frame to keep it from closing. His hair was messily styled, and platinum white, which was just barely falling into his eyes. He had a dragon tattoo that wrapped around his arm and traveled up into the sleeve of his t-shirt, the ink being a drastic contrast against his pale skin. He was very attractive, but Gon was sure he probably wasn’t the only one who thought so, and figured he probably had a girlfriend anyway.
“I… I am, b-but you can forget about my appointment.” Gon turned himself completely around to face the guy, frantically waving his hands around to try and dismiss him, “I don’t think a tattoo would suit me anyway.”
The tattoo artist raised an eyebrow, curious, “Why not?,” he continued, “What were you thinking about getting?”
“Um,” he began to fiddle with the bracelets on his wrist, “Ever seen Princess Mononoke?”
The tattoo artist smiled, “Ghibli fan?”
Gon nodded, “Very much.”
The man placed a hand on the door, pushing it open wider and standing in its way so it wouldn’t close, seemingly inviting Gon in. When Gon didn’t move—his eyes going back and forth between the man and the entrance—he sighed, letting out a slight chuckle, before he held his hand out for Gon to take.
“C’mon, it’s boiling out here, and we’ve got some soda in the back. I’ll grab you one while I get my friend here to set you up in my room.”
Gon stepped closer, nervously taking the man’s hand and finding that although it was cold, the contact was comforting. He led him inside, where Gon was engulfed by a smell that reminded him of a hospital lobby—sterile and subtly sweet. There was an equality pride flag hanging from the front counter where the other man Gon had seen from earlier was sitting, typing something into his laptop.
“Kurapika, can you take Gon here to my room while I get him a soda?”
The other artist—Kurapika—sighed, but made not a single move to stand from the front desk.
“Do you know when Alluka will be back with our McDonald’s?”
“Kurapika.”
“I know, I know,” Kurapika stood, stretching his arms out and over his head, then fixing his eyes on Gon with a friendly smile, “Follow me.”
Gon did as he was told, albeit hesitantly, leaving his tattoo artist to disappear in a room on the other side of the parlor. He was led down a short hallway, passing by two rooms that he figured belonged to Kurapika and this Alluka person, who he’s assuming was another artist who worked at the shop. When reaching the end of the hallway, Gon found the name “Killua” painted above the entrance to the room.
“Is that his name?” Gon asked, watching as Kurapika opened the mini fridge that sat on the counter, groaning when he couldn’t find what he was looking for.
“Hm? What did you say?” Kurapika leaned against the counter, placing his hands on the counter beside him.
“Killua. Is that his name?” Gon repeated, pointing down the hall.
“Oh, yeah. He didn’t tell you his name?”
Gon shook his head, “No.”
“I didn’t get the chance to,” Killua said, suddenly standing at Gon’s side and startling him enough to flinch, which made Killua chuckle, “Nervous, are we?”
“You can’t tell me someone’s come in here for their first tattoo and they were completely calm about it,” Gon countered, more embarrassed than upset that Killua was 100% correct on his accusation.
“Hey, asshole, why don’t you have any soda in your mini-fridge?” Kurapika chimed in, making Killua roll his eyes.
“Because you drink them all, dipshit,” Killua stepped into the room, lightly shoving Kurapika out of the way so he could restock the six-pack of Cola’s into his fridge, earning a laugh from his friend.
Kurapika crossed his arms, attention now fixated on Gon while Killua took the soda out of its plastic and found space for it in his fridge.
“What are you thinking about getting?”
“That’s a question I’m supposed to ask him,” Killua cut in before Gon could reply, “Now get out before you drink all my soda.”
Kurapika and Killua met eyes, seemingly having a conversation between the two of them that Gon couldn’t decipher, before Kurapika laughed, pushed off the counter, and exited the room.
Killua sighed, hanging his head for a moment before turning to meet Gon’s eyes.
“I apologize. We’re usually a lot more professional. Anyways,” his expression softened, “You can take a seat,” he said, gesturing towards the black, recliner-looking chair.
Gon watched as Killua took a seat for himself in a rolling bar-stool, so he did the same, relaxing against the leather of the chair.
“So, you said something about Princess Mononoke, right?” Killua asked, taking a notepad and pen out of a drawer and resting it in his lap, “Did you want Mononoke herself? Or perhaps the Forest Spirit?”
“No, no, um… I wanted one of the forest creature things.”
“Oh, okay. You mean a Kodama?”
“Right! Yeah, a Kodama.”
“Alright,” Killua began to sketch something in his notepad, “Do you have an idea on where you would want this? Or how big you want it to be?
“I… was thinking just… on my arm? Like, on my bicep area, if that makes sense?”
Killua nodded, a fond smile evident on his lips, “I get what you’re saying. I assume you don’t want it colored either?”
Gon shook his head, “No.”
Silence had settled between them, and although Gon considered himself particularly skilled when it came to small talk, he decided it would be best if he didn’t distract Killua. But he was never good at keeping his mouth shut anyway.
“Is Alluka another tattoo artist who works here?”
Killua lifted his gaze to meet Gon’s, then let it fall back to his notepad, “Yes, and she’s also my younger sister.”
“You have a sister?” Gon repeated in awe.
“Well,” Killua momentarily quit sketching, giving Gon all of his attention, “I have four siblings; three other brothers, and then Alluka.”
“Lucky,” Gon laughed, “I’m an only child.”
“I wouldn’t exactly consider myself lucky,” Killua laughed, although it was bitter, “I cut my family off once I’d managed to legally become Alluka’s guardian, so it’s been a few years since I’ve actually spoken to them,” Killua shrugged, “It was a toxic household.”
“Oh,” Gon frowned, reacting a bit awkwardly to Killua sharing something so personal, “I’m sorry.”
Killua shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. We’ve all been through shit.”
“Um, my father actually never planned on having me in the first place, much less actually settling down and raising me; I was taken care of by my Aunt Mito and my Great Grandmother Abe,” Gon added, since they were trauma dumping.
“Boom,” Killua had returned to sketching, “Just like I said. Everybody’s got skeletons in their closet.” Gon opened his mouth, ready to continue rolling with their conversation, but Killua had stood, dropping his notepad onto the counter. “Wanna take a look at that for me? Let me know what you’re thinking and what changes you want to make?”
Gon stared, his mind taking a few moments to process what had been asked of him before he half-shouted “Oh!” and shot up from his seat. Killua chuckled, using the time that Gon was going over his sketch of a potential tattoo to grab a soda from his mini-fridge. Gon, immensely stunned by Killua’s ability to sketch out something as beautiful as this in a matter of minutes—while being distracted with conversation—could do nothing more than stare, mouth hung open like there was a weight securing his jaw down.
“You— This— You’re amazing!” Gon stuttered over his words, his wide-eyed gaze falling on Killua, whose eyes were almost just as wide as Gon’s, a red flushing throughout the pale skin of his cheeks.
“He knows.”
Killua and Gon were both startled by the woman in the doorway.
“Alluka,” Killua said, a softened smile replacing his reaction to Gon’s expressive response to his artistry, “Kurapika practically attacked you at the door, didn’t he?”
Alluka was a very beautiful woman, almost identical to Killua except for the long, black hair that was braided over her shoulder and nearly reaching her hip; there was a cherry blossom branch inked into her skin from her elbow to the top of her shoulder. She couldn’t be any older than twenty, but obviously not much younger than eighteen.
Alluka giggled, “He did.”
“Thought so,” Killua turned to Gon, holding a hand out to Alluka, “This is my sister, Alluka. Alluka, this is Gon. I’ll be doing his tattoo.”
Alluka waved, sweet and childlike, “Hello, Gon.”
Gon waved back, “Hello.”
Alluka then fixed her eyes on Killua, “Let me know when you’re finished.”
Killua nodded, “Alright.”
Alluka left, sharing prolonged eye contact with Killua—just as Kurapika had done before he left them alone—before leaving Killua and Gon alone once again.
“Right,” Killua said, his eyes still on the doorway, “So… this is what you want? And, on your bicep correct? The same size?”
Gon nodded, enthusiastically, in fact. “Yes,” he answered, smiling widely.
“Alright then,” Killua opened a drawer, taking out a box that contained blue, latex gloves, “Get settled back into the chair, and we’ll get started.” he said, beginning to prepare things.
Killua first prepared a stencil from his sketch, Gon starting to panic and hyperventilate with the idea that he’ll be leaving this place with a tattoo. That’s when Killua handed him the soda, telling him to finish it before they started the tattoo, because apparently the sugar essentially kept you from passing out. Gon did as he was told, again, and finished the soda within ten minutes, which was perfect timing, because Killua had finished the stencil.
He gently grabbed Gon by the wrist, telling him to relax as he laid his arm out for easier access to his bicep. Applying the stencil, Killua began whispering sweet words to calm Gon down, distracting him by asking him simple questions such as what his hobbies were and what his favorite color was. (“Green,” Gon had answered, laughing from the strange look Killua gave him, admittedly easing his nerves a bit. “Odd choice.” Killua said.) Absurd things like that. And it didn’t help that Gon had an added nervousness from how ridiculously attractive Killua suddenly became.
Then, Killua adjusted the cord of the tattoo gun out of his way, activating it.
“I’m going to start the tattoo now, so can you take a deep breath for me?” And Gon nodded, taking a deep breath in, and—
“Oh, shit!” Gon hissed, almost flinching at the sudden surge of pain in his upper arm. “Ow!” he shouted, clenching his teeth and eyes shut.
“Hey, hey,” Killua spoke gently, “You’re okay.” He placed his free hand in Gon’s, squeezing tightly, and Gon squeezing just as tightly back.
“You treat all your customers like this?” Gon asked, laughing almost bittersweetly.
Killua smiled, wide and coy, “Only the cute ones,” and, as if to further prove his previous statement, “You got a girlfriend? A boyfriend?”
Gon furrowed his eyebrows, “Wait,” he glanced at Killua, who continued to smile, “Don’t you?!” he asked, exasperated, because he was sure that Killua, who looked like a god damned model, would be taken.
Killua stopped, only for a moment, glanced up at Gon, then continued, “No.”
“Oh.”
After a moment of silence, the buzzing of the tattoo gun and Gon’s slight wincing the only sound in the small room, Killua persisted, “Do you?”
Gon winced again, then shook his head, “No.”
And then Killua started gently rubbing his thumb over Gon’s upturned wrist, under his bracelets, almost like an attempt at soothing him, but it only deepened his nerves.
“You’re doing great. Just keep taking in deep, even breaths for me, alright?”
Gon nodded, forcefully letting out a breath out through his mouth, then taking in another through his nose. Killua’s hand left his, pressing it against the skin of his bicep and pulling to stretch his skin so the tattoo wouldn’t appear ragged.
“Do you like coffee?” Killua asked, casual and focused.
And Gon doesn’t know if these questions are to keep him distracted or to set them up for a date.
“Not really,” he shook his head, then decided to backtrack—if Killua really is setting up to ask him on a date, “I do if there’s a lot of sweetener in it, though.”
Killua smiled, “I take it you’re a frappuccino kind of person, then.”
Gon didn’t entirely know what a frappuccino was, if he’s being honest, since he almost always gets a hot chocolate with some type of baked good when he decides to visit a coffee shop on the occasion—perhaps getting an iced coffee if he’s feeling especially sluggish that day, which he almost never is. But like he said, he doesn’t like coffee unless it’s heavily sweetened, and it’s been that way his whole life, so cafes and coffee shops don’t appeal to him all that much.
He decided to lie, “Sure.”
Gon realized that he’s built a bit of a tolerance to the pain by now, and just as this thought brushed his mind, Killua ran over a particularly sensitive nerve in his arm right then, and Gon hissed.
“Nevermind,” Gon mumbled to himself, but Killua caught it anyway.
“Hm?” he hummed, curious.
“Nothing,” Gon clenched his eyes shut, “I was just thinking to myself that it wasn’t hurting too bad anymore, but now it’s just— um, hurting a lot again,” he smiles weakly.
“I know,” Killua said, “I’m sorry,” his free hand found Gon’s once again, doing just as he’d done before and rubbed his gloved thumb over Gon’s wrist as a means to sooth him. Gon took in a shuddering breath— more so from Killua’s comforting methods than the pain from the tattoo gun repeatedly jabbing into his skin. “What brings you to York New?” Killua pressed, an obvious attempt at distracting Gon again, and Gon laughed, because Killua merely holding his hand was distracting him enough.
“I had moved into the city a few years ago with a friend of mine to get my GED and start trade school; College was way out of my budget.”
Killua grumbled, “You dodged a bullet, trust me. Alluka actually wants to go to a fashion school here in York New, but god, is it expensive. That’s why she’s working here, so she can earn the money to pay for it, and she’s nearly there.”
“Wow,” Gon exclaimed, “Good for her, honestly.”
Killua took on a fond smile, “Yeah, it is. I’m proud of her. But anyway, what are you going to trade school for?”
“Vet Tech., just to get a solid, well-paying job to keep me on my feet while I think about what I actually want to do with my life.”
“You’ve really thought this through,” Killua commented, smiling almost as fondly as when he’d been talking about Alluka, then suddenly, he pulled away and met Gon’s eyes in horror, “Shit! You’re over eighteen right?”
Gon froze, thoroughly confused by Killua’s outburst, then he started to laugh. He hadn’t given any identification proving he actually was over the age of eighteen. “Yes. Do you need to see my ID?”
“Well, yes,” Killua leaned forward over the armrest—careful of Gon’s bicep—as Gon pulled out his wallet from his back pocket where he kept his ID, showing it to Killua, “I was actually supposed to check before I gave you the tattoo, and there was paperwork you needed to sign too,” Killua chuckled, albeit nervously, “Would it be okay if you did me a solid and did the paperwork after we finish here and not say a word about how I forgot? Because I could get in a lot of trouble for this.”
Gon nodded, lifting his hand up to his lips and pretending to zip his mouth shut, throwing away an invisible key, “My lips are sealed.”
Killua let out an obvious sigh of relief, “Good.”
Gon had made it through without passing out, which he found out that it was surprisingly uncommon. Killua cleaned him up, placing a patch over his new tattoo so that it would heal cleanly and without infection, then gave him various instructions on when he should take the patch off and that he should keep it clean with an antiseptic he’ll provide for a few weeks afterwards.
Killua took him back out into the lobby, asking him apologetically to fill out the paperwork he’d mentioned earlier. Gon complied, letting him know that it was really no trouble at all.
He took a seat where a customer would usually wait before getting their tattoo while Killua took a seat at the front desk. Gon could feel his eyes on him.
“You—” Killua started, Gon momentarily pausing to look up at him, “You did good for your first tattoo.”
“Oh,” Gon smiled, “Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a bit longer before Killua spoke up again.
“What kind of music do you like?”
Gon glanced up at him, “All kinds,” then he chuckled, “Except for the screaming kind.”
Killua nodded, “That’s fair.”
Gon continued filling out the paperwork, and it was quiet between them for a little longer until Kurapika and Alluka joined them in the lobby, exiting from a backroom.
“Oh!” Kurapika smiled, approaching Gon, “You’re finished? What did you get?”
Gon returned the smile, “A Kodama from Princess Mononoke.”
“Ooh, I love that movie!” Alluka chimed in, taking an empty seat next to Gon and observing his new tattoo, “You did such a good job, Killua!”
“Oh,” Killua chuckled, “Thank you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gon could see Killua and Kurapika making hardcore eye contact, Killua shaking his head, and then Kurapika fixing his eyes on Gon with a coy but overall friendly smile.
“It’s a good thing Killua stopped you from leaving, huh? He was gushing over how cute you were while you were standing outside—”
“Kurapika—”
“—and he even started panicking when he saw you start to leave!”
“Kurapika, shut up!” Killua said, his tone sharp.
“Oh yeah,” Alluka laughed, “Kurapika had told me about that,” she turned to Gon, shrugging, “Too bad I was out getting lunch for Kurapika and I, so I missed it.”
Killua’s head fell onto the counter he sat behind, “Alluka,” he groaned, “Not you too.”
Gon couldn’t help but smile, warm and fond, “Thank you,” he said, addressing Killua.
Killua lifted his head, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion, “What?”
“Kurapika said you thought I was cute, and I’m saying thank you.”
“O-oh,” Killua stuttered, nodding, very clearly red at the tips of his ears, “You’re welcome.”
Gon smiled, and Killua turned away, cursing under his breath.
Alluka helped him finish up his paperwork, and when it was finished, she and Kurapika filed it away together in the backroom. Killua continued to sit at the front counter slouched and distracted by his hands in his lap. Gon stood in front of him, knees bumping the flag that hung in front of the counter, tapping its surface and making Killua aware of his presence. He abruptly stood, awkwardly meeting Gon’s eyes and then looking away before finally keeping eye contact.
“Remember to stay out of the sun for long periods of time for a few weeks, and don’t take the bandage off for the next twenty-four hours.”
Gon nodded, smiling, “Alright. I still need to pay, don’t I?”
“Oh! Right,” Killua took a seat behind the computer, clicking on something and then typing in a few things, “Your total will be $132.63. Cash or card?”
Gon proceeded to take out his wallet from his back pocket, handing over his debit card to Killua.
And this is when Gon’s heart started to pound against his chest, because surely Killua would say something soon. Ask him out for coffee, or ask for his number, right? He had been flirting, or at least showing interest in Gon, right?
Killua typed in his card number, his fingers elegantly gliding over the keyboard without him even having to look away from the computer screen. He handed the card back to Gon, turning away from the computer before giving him a business card as well, standing and warily eyeing Gon up and down. “In case you have any questions.”
“Alright,” Gon replied, taking the card and putting it in his wallet, sure he’ll probably never call up the number on it anyway.
“I’ll… see you around?” Killua held a hand out for Gon to take.
Nothing?
“Yeah,” Gon took his hand, shaking it firmly, “See you around.” he echoed, mustering the best smile he could plaster on.
He thought… that perhaps there had been something between them, but maybe he’s not as good at reading people as he thought. He must have been wrong then. He needs to learn to stop getting his hopes up.
His hand slipped from Killua’s, smile faltering once his back had turned to him. Exiting from the tattoo shop, the bell overhead rang out, indicating the door had opened. Gon only startled just slightly, giving it a glance before eyeing the sidewalk ahead of him.
Oh well. Life must go on, right?
He put one foot in front of the other, and before he knew it, he was already a few blocks away from his and Leorio’s apartment. He supposes he must have just gotten lost in thought. Wasn’t he heading somewhere after this? He can’t seem to remember, but it must not have been that important.
“Hey!”
Gon turned around, curious about where the sudden shout had come from, and found Killua running after him.
“What—”
“Give me a second.” Killua stopped in front of Gon, leaning over and resting his hands on his knees, heaving. “There’s a reason I was better at art than I was at athletics,” he chuckled.
Gon gave him an incredulous stare, “You ran all the way here?”
“Uh…” Killua glanced up at him, “Yeah?”
“Did I forget something?” Gon began to pat himself down, finding he had his phone and wallet on him.
“No, no, you didn’t forget anything, I just… um,” Killua took a step back, “I wanted to ask for your number, but I chickened out at the last second; Kurapika was pissed.”
“Oh,” Gon stood awkwardly, “You actually want my number?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Gon laughed, watching Killua get his phone out of his back pocket, “I actually thought you were really attractive when I saw you step out and coax me into getting a tattoo, and I thought that we had been… flirting? But when you didn’t ask me out or ask for my number, I thought I had read you wrong.”
“You didn’t,” Killua reassured him, “You could’ve asked for my number, if you wanted?”
“That… didn’t occur to me.”
Killua laughed.
Gon typed his number into Killua’s phone, hands admittedly shaking. When he handed Killua back his phone, Killua was eager to take it back.
“Do you know if you’re free anytime this week?”
“Um, I am tomorrow?” Gon offered, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Great. I wanna take you out, and there’s this little diner actually not far from here called Maggie’s Corner? You heard of it?”
“I have! I love it there! My roommate and I go there all the time.”
“Meet me there at six, then? Tomorrow?” Killua asked, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Gon nodded, “I’ll see you at six tomorrow.”
Killua relaxed, being relieved of an obvious tension in his shoulders. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Gon’s cheek.
“See you tomorrow,” and of course he winked as he was walking away.
Gon was wrecked with nerves when he made it home, and Leorio was all but understanding when Gon told him the story.