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1.
“You wouldn’t leave your friends behind, would you, Chain User?”
The rain kept striking the pavement, and when it hit the roof of the car metallic twangs would ring out. The Phantom Troupe Leader’s eyes grew darker, almost in excitement, as his hunch proved true; The Chain User was utterly powerless, he wouldn’t do a thing.
“Cut!”
Kurapika could finally let his jaw unclench and his posture relax in the stuffed car. He and Kuroro looked to the director who was admonishing a sound technician for getting in the way of the shot.
He massaged his shoulders as he and Kuroro shared an awkward smile, while their unfortunate co-worker was getting chewed out quite loudly.
Later, after shooting the raining car scene, Kurapika was grabbing a drink by one of the vending machines, waiting for his two younger co-stars to finish their workdays so they could all have dinner together.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the imposing frame of a man with pale skin and a black trench coat that surely had shoulder pads in it, and he impulsively pressed to get another drink. A bitter one, since that seemed like the safest option.
The drink popped out of the machine with cold droplets on the side, pristine temperature, and Kurapika was satisfied to give it to his co-star.
“Kuroro!” Kurapika shouted a little too loud down the hallway.
Kuroro stopped walking, turned, then smiled, and walked back that awkward distance to Kurapika just to ask, “Yes, Chain User?”
Kurapika started laughing because the demeanor of Chrollo, phantom troupe leader and murderer was perfect coming from accomplished actor Kuroro, yet it wasn’t the scene at all. Not to mention, any joke coming from someone you admired was a million times funnier than it probably really was.
Kuroro also let out a laugh at his own joke once he saw Kurapika was laughing too.
“It's nothing bad, I just thought you might enjoy this?” Kurapika handed Kuroro the soda.
“You really shouldn’t have,” The other politely said, but he nonetheless cracked the drink open.
“I don’t mind at all, we both worked very hard today.”
“Oh yes, I worked hard, being bound up by the Chain User and glaring aggressively at the cameras.”
Kurapika laughed again. It was a little forced this time because he hoped to hide his blush at the mention of Kuroro bound in chains.
“Well, the Yorknew City arc is almost over,” Kuroro remarked out of the blue. “I won’t be appearing again unless the show gets funding for another few seasons.”
“That’s right…We’ll certainly lose some great talent,” Kurapika softly said. He really hoped that his voice didn’t sound too desperate, that it didn’t betray how much this simple, matter-of-the-course event impacted him.
“Gon and Killua are extremely talented, they’ll be fine. But I believe your character disappears for a while during the Greed Island Arc. That’ll be when this show really loses some steam,” Kuroro said like it was no big deal.
Kurapika nearly combusted, denying the praise, before they heard a loud yell from behind them.
“Yo! Kurapika!” It was Killua, followed by a tired-looking Gon. They gave a courteous nod towards Kuroro, imbued by the awe that all younger actors had for someone as profound as him.
“You’re all done filming?”
“Yep! I’m glad that I could finally show everyone how easily I can dislocate my wrists!” Killua then followed this with a live demonstration that made everyone cringe with the wet popping sounds and the distortion of his bone.
“I’m glad I don’t have to do that,” Gon remarked, yawning as his friend popped them back into place. Kurapika seriously didn’t want to find out why Killua could do that.
Kuroro looked like he was about to excuse himself, and Kurapika wanted nothing more than to ask him to dinner. But he was already in prior engagements with Gon and Killua, and Kuroro would likely turn him down, and most likely he would cringe and things would be awkward and-
“I don’t think Gon nor I am up for dinner, Kurapika,” Killua announced with very clear diction and a strange glint in those cat eyes. Kurapika was about to mutter that if food was involved, it didn’t matter how tired Gon was, but then the boy turned to Kuroro. “Sir, would you mind accompanying Kurapika? He has a deathly social fear of eating alone at establishments.”
“KIllua!” Kurapika rubbed his forehead before saying, “Kuroro, ignore him he-”
But when he took his hand away from his face, he saw that Kuroro looked excited.
“Really, I think he said it was one of his top 5 fears? Anyhow, you really must accompany him,” Killua said. To his side, Gon looked confused but then caught on with an obvious look of realization.
“Oh, yeah! You two have just gotta!”
“Is that so?” Kuroro muttered in response, but his eyes were trained on Kurapika, searching for any sign of displeasure at the way events were unfolding.
Kuroro smiled when he saw there weren’t any.
“Gon and I are gonna wait for Leorio, you two get going,” Killua insisted with a smirk, resting his hands behind his head.
Kurapika gave him a glare, and after a few goodbyes, they were walking towards the overpriced French restaurant across the street where they had made reservations, both men putting on their coats.
“I’m really sorry about them,” Kurapika lied. He wasn’t actually too sorry since this was how things were turning out.
“I don’t mind, I was famished anyway. And…” Kuroro was looking away from Kurapika, maybe at the interesting ceiling, and his fingers found Kurapika’s own.
He gasped softly, appreciated the apparent blush in Kuroro’s cheeks, then held hands with Kuroro.
“Wait!” Someone shouted from behind. It was Gon, with Killua tailing close behind.
“I thought you were waiting for Leorio-” Kurapika began, but Killua dragged him away leaving Gon and Kuroro on their own.
“What are you doing?” He demanded.
“Don’t yell at me, Gon insisted that he talk to Kuroro one-on-one before he ‘deflowers’ you.”
Kurapika flushed brightly and whipped his head to see Gon giving a stern talk to Kuroro. He swiftly walked back over, smacked Gon on the head in the middle of him saying something about ‘protection’, and grabbed Kuroro’s hand.
He led the man away, gritting his teeth, while the others laughed.
“Seriously, please ignore them. They’re 12,” he pleaded, and this time he meant it.
“So at their wedding, do you think they’ll have chocolates and snacks for us?” Gon asked, tilting his head as he watched the two cross the street.
“They better, we’re the only reason those prudish two would ever go out.”
2.
Their impromptu date had gone too well, as now Kurapika legitimately couldn’t look at Kuroro, rather, Chrollo in this moment, with ferocity. There was a hostage exchange meant to be happening in the show but, and these are the director’s words, ‘It looks like the Chain User would rather keep the Phantom Troupe Leader than his friends’.
Kurapika couldn’t apply the feedback seeing as how he was so preoccupied not showing a blush while holding Kuroro, the man he very nearly kissed a few nights prior, bound in chains. So they took five, and Kurapika whisked away with a hand over his mouth muttering apologies, and everyone else on set peeked after him.
“I’m surprised he’s not limping,” Killua muttered, leaning back against his hands.
“What do you mean?” Gon asked, to which Killua just sighed.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Kurapika sat under the shade of a tree in the dusk, leaning on his knees and staring at the ground. He couldn’t feel the hatred he used to channel for Kuroro’s character anymore, not when that same face was eating oysters with him just a while ago.
Could he even finish the show now? When he acted like a middle schooler with his first crush around what was meant to be his character’s greatest nemesis?
“Are you alright?” Kurapika looked to see the root of all his problems, standing in full character against the mundane background.
“Fine, totally fine…” He muttered in response before scooching for Kuroro to sit next to him.
“I don’t want to be presumptuous, but is it because of our date that you’re…struggling?” His tone was calm and cautious as he suggested this.
Kurapika peeked through his hands to stare at Kuroro before nodding with a flush. “I’m a professional, this shouldn’t be getting in the way.”
“I see…” He said.
Kurapika thought sadly about the fact that Kuroro wasn’t struggling to keep character at all, like nothing had even changed for him.
So he asked.
“How do you keep character so well? It’s like your performance is the exact same since we’ve started shooting.”
“I suppose it seems that way because, since our first day of shooting, I’ve always been interested in you.” His confession was simple, but his eyes hopefully glanced to Kurapika to gauge his response.
“Is that really true? It can’t be.”
“Of course it is. Remember a comment the director made? ‘ I like your interpretation of the character, his uncomfortably intense eyes on the Chain User adds a layer of depth’.”
Kurapika laughed, and Kuroro chuckled too.
“I swear, you can pass anything off as god-like acting,” Kurapika said.
The break was almost over now, and almost like he had suddenly remembered something, Kuroro leaned in to whisper something, and Kurapika saw a ghost of a smirk on his face.
To any passerby, the scene was a mystery. A man was whispering something in his friend’s ear, then this blond friend grew flushed, more flushed, redder than a pepper, and then in a flash, after muttering one final thing, the whisperer stood and ran from the whispee who was racing after him in a fit.
“Do you think it’ll work?” Gon asked Killua. They were stationed at the entrance to the warehouse, sipping on some juice that hopefully didn’t have laxatives.
“Definitely. Kuroro’s gonna give it his all because he feels bad Kurapika is performing badly.”
“I don’t know, break is almost over.”
“Five.”
“Huh? What are you counting down for?”
Killua didn’t say anything but kept sipping on his juice and counting. “Four”
Gon peeked around but still didn’t see anything.
“Three.”
“Are you messing with me, Killua?”
“Two.”
At this point, Gon just stared at Killua waiting for something to happen when he reached zero.
“one.”
Just milliseconds before Killua was going to say ‘zero’, two gusts of wind whooshed past the boys. Gon looked and saw that these two gusts of winds were actually a very fast Kuroro running from an equally as fast, but pissed, Kurapika.
“Just what did you tell him to do?” Gon asked, terrified.
“Just to rile Kurapika up. Seems like it worked.”
3.
Pakunoda was a very beautiful person. Even without mentioning her alluring charms that she wasn’t shy about displaying ( ahem, won’t go further into detail on that) her face had that rugged, mysterious, please-kick-me-in-the-balls effect.
And right now, she and her excuse for an outfit were filming a scene with Kuroro. Granted, one where her character was shooting him…But nonetheless, those things had no reason being so close to Kuroro.
Kurapika blushed just thinking about how petty and misogynistic he was being but could you blame him? He finally had a good thing going, and Pukanoda no doubt had at least two good things going, couldn’t she let him have this?
That wasn’t even the worst part. No, easily the worst part came later, by the same vending machines where Kurapkia had bought Kuroro his drink.
Kurapika was handed a drink, a lemon soda (definitely not his favorite flavor) by that same woman with two fucking giraffe necks for legs, with a smile.
“Thanks for sticking around for our shoot. I know you probably didn’t wait up for me, but It helped me act a lot better,” She earnestly said. Without waiting for much of a reply, she stalked off with a wave and yawned at the late hour.
Yes, the worst part was that the unfair Amazonian goddess was nice. This simply wasn’t allowed. Kurapika didn’t care what he’d have to do-
He wouldn’t let Kuroro be bewitched by the better blond on set.
Kuroro was stretching out his neck in the dressing room after shooting. Well, the actual filming of the content, and then the actual shootings of fake rounds that hurt his ears. But none of it weighed him down or annoyed him like it might’ve any other day, because tonight was special.
Tonight, he was going to go all the way with Kurapika. That’s right- Kuroro was completely determined to kiss him tonight.
He was still taking off his makeup when there was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” He called, still wiping down the pale, white foundation they used on him in the mirror. His tone could’ve been more polite, but the chances were that it was a crazy fan or something equally annoying.
“Kurapika.”
His tone couldn’t have changed quicker. “Come in!”
He was bent over, putting away his supplies, so he didn’t have a view either directly or the mirror of what Kurapika had become.
“Kuroro, I’ve got long legs, right?”
“Huh? What are you-” Kuroro stopped talking when he turned around to see Kurapika wearing Pakunoda’s outfit.
With two toilet paper rolls filling out the bust, and the mini skirt appearing more like a maxi on his shorter frame, Kuroro burst out laughing.
“What?! I’m serious answer!” Kurapika cried out. His feet tripped over themselves and Kuroro caught him.
“Are you drunk?”
*Hiccup* “No.”
Kuroro sighed, knowing that tonight would certainly not be the night to go all the way.
“Come on, just get changed and you can go back to your hotel.”
4.
The York New City arc was coming to a close. Kurapika was well aware of this fact, and had been dreading Kuroro’s soon absence, but for some reason, with only two more days of filming, he was crying.
He would never call Gon or Killua, especially not Kuroro, over something so stupid.
‘ But I’m still sad, and…’
It was stupid, yes, but the adult, seasoned actor, needed something to make him feel better.
So, despite the fact he was in his own hotel room, he glanced over his shoulder and made sure no one was there. With a shuddering finger, he opened his phone, pulled up a private tab on Safari, and closed his eyes as he typed a sentence he could hardly compute in.
As soon as he pressed the return button, he had to set his phone against his pillow and bury his face into the blankets.
“Am I seriously doing this? I thought seventh grade would be the last time, after I accidentally sent the link to my teacher…”
Yet, when Kurapika thought he would just go to bed, he muttered, ‘screw it’, and faced his phone to see the search results for;
‘ Chain User X Chrollo Lucifer’
And boy, were they juicy.
“Just- Just where is the Chain User putting his chains?!” Kurapika exclaimed out loud. He sat upright in his covers, horrified and disturbingly intrigued.
“And-And why the hell is this one so detailed?! Seriously!”
Kurapika kept yelling, but never did he stop scrolling. He got so far down, he found the section that was the chain user and Chrollo as sonic inserts where one of them was pregnant.
Then, by the grace of God, his phone ran out of battery.
Kurapika slumped down onto the bed and glanced over the clock. It read; 4:21 AM.
There was a stillness without the bright white light of his phone, and the red numbers on the clock filled that need for light eerily. The covers felt too lumpy, and his pillow was hot.
There was a moment of silence, then Kurapika muttered to no one in particular; “He’s really gonna be leaving soon…”
5.
Kurapika gazed at Chrollo with such resolve that the directors couldn’t tell if it was hatred or unbound admiration, or maybe some weird hate-love thing. Nonetheless, they liked it, and with the final shot at sunset, with the wind tangling their hair and whipping their clothes, Chrollo officially left the show.
It was bittersweet- Actually, it was just plain bitter. Kurapika found he didn’t have to actually act during the scene because both he and his character shared the same hatred and resentment at his absence.
“Good job everybody!” The director shouted, breaking that silence. Everyone cheered.
Kurapika didn’t even say anything to Kuroro before excusing himself to the restroom.
He closed the stall behind himself and took many, many deep breaths.
‘ It’s so weird how I’m so sad…We’re not even official…Why am I letting this get to me so much?’
Then, the bathroom door opened. Kurapika sighed and tugged at his hair in frustration. Couldn’t he be left to be angsty alone?
But this person didn’t use the urinals, nor did they open one of the stalls. Kurapika rolled his eyes.
“Killua, shouldn’t you be somewhere else?”
There was no response. However, if Kurapika had been listening closer, he would have heard the slight gasp from the other party.
“Seriously! I’m so tired of you and Gon’s meddling. Do you have any idea how much easier this would all be for me if you two hadn’t pushed me and Kuroro together?”
Again, there was no response.
Kurapika knew he was just taking out all of his frustrations of his kind friends. But Killua was smart enough not to take him seriously, and to see this process for what it was; Kurapika lamenting the end of a barely budded relationship.
“I mean- You haven’t even been acting long enough to know what it's like! Big stars like Kuroro- There’s just no reason for him to stay around for someone like me. So, whatever you had come in here to comfort me with, or whatever you were gonna say- save it. I’ll be back to be all cordial or whatever at the party tonight…”
There were about ten seconds where Killua didn’t move or say anything. Then, without any more words, he left.
Kurapika sighed, relieved. Then, he tried to finally think of how to respond to whatever type of ‘breakup’ Kuroro would come to him with.
Kurapika wore a midnight blue suit. A little simple by Hollywood’s standards, but he figured that attire wouldn’t matter when he was saying goodbye to…
Huh, that sentence wouldn’t ever be complete, would it? Kuroro wouldn’t be around long enough for Kurapika to call him his boyfriend, lover, or even ex.
“Hey! Kurapika!” Gon yelled and waved loudly, Killua tailing close behind.
Kurapika gave Killua an apologetic nod, but the boy just furrowed his brow. Had he already forgotten?
“Hello, you two. Enjoying the evening?” Kurapika took a sip of his champagne.
“Why are you being so cordial? Gon, did we do anything to make him mad?”
“No, I don’t think so…Oh, right, Kuroro is-” Killua shoved Gon’s mouth full of cookies to shut him up. He laughed awkwardly in Kurapika’s direction.
The blond just took another sip. “I’m aware, you know,” He took another sip, “That Kuroro is leaving. And, really,” one more sip of champagne, “I’m happy. He deserves to move forward with his career.”
Killua and Gon shared a concerned look.
“Uh, Kurapika, why don’t you slow down on the champagne? There’s plenty!” Gon began, cheerfully.
“If there’s plenty then it shouldn’t be a problem if I drink. A kid like you wouldn’t understand.”
“Alright, Mr. Adult, I’ve probably seen and used more illegal substances than you’ll ever see in your life so why don’t you just shut it,” Killua shot back. Gon mumbled something about them all cooling down, but Kurapika couldn’t stand for the pitiful conversation he was having with his friends.
“I think I’ll leave a bit early.” Kurapika’s tone left no room for argument. He turned his heel and briskly walked away from a gaping Killua and a disappointed Gon.
“Is he on his monthly or something…? Kuroro hasn’t even shown up yet,” Killua muttered.
“I’d be sad too, like, if you would leave,” Gon supplied with no further explanation.
Kurapika waltzed his way back to his hotel room. The alcohol made it easy, it provided some weird metronome for him to follow, and it allowed him to ignore the strange looks he received.
That was until he heard a very telling flash from across the hallway. His head snapped in the direction in time to see a camera jolting back to its hiding place behind a potted plant.
Shit.
Properly sober, Kurapika rushed to catch the paparazzi that had been fortunate enough to catch him in such a deplorable state. His shoe clacked through the hall as he whipped to that same potted plant, yet there was no person or camera in sight.
Kurapika cursed under his breath, parting the leaves of the plant just to be sure the cameraman didn’t shrink and hide there; they hadn’t.
“This is…not optimal.”
Kurapika stood there, finger on his chin in thought, attempting to remain composed. But his breaths were rushed, his heart was hammering, and he could feel his legs begin to shake. This was bad. Really, really fucking bad.
“Should I just… drink more?”
It wasn’t actually a bad idea. His angelic image was totally ruined. Completely fucked. Utterly destroyed. So there was no reason to drown it all a bit more down in that devilish champagne.
“Kurapika.”
Kurapika rushed to the plant to hide again, crouching. Had his manager already found the picture and come to yell at him? Or worse, was it Hisoka?
“Kurapika, can you hear me?”
“Nope~! I’ve decided that hearing is only going to lead to more suffering.”
“Oh. I see.” This voice, which Kurapika had surmised was too kind to be Hisoka, slunk down next to Kurapika silently. He didn’t know if this stranger was admiring the plant or something else, but regardless, he refused to acknowledge him or look at him.
The only issue with this is that drunk Kurapika is not nearly as stubborn as sober Kurapika. So he inevitably peeked, but only the tiniest little bit.
He yelped like he’d been shocked when he saw that midnight-black hair, and those piercing eyes. For the second time in the last five minutes, Kurapika sobered up again.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was on my way to the party, but you were crouched here so…Uh, interestingly,” Kuroro chuckled.
Kurapika scoffed and looked down. “Yeah, I’m pretty embarrassing. I left a bit early, but you should get going.” Kurapika leaned his cheek on his knee and bitterly added, “I’m sure everyone wants to say goodbye to you.”
“ Everyone?” Kuroro knowingly chased.
Kurapika sighed and looked the other straight in the eye. But he found he didn’t know what to say, so he ended up just staring.
“I’m going to miss cursing your name and calling you Chain User,” Kuroro finally said. Kurapika nodded.
“You know…” Kuroro began, perhaps a bit frustrated. “This project really meant a lot to me.”
“Yes, me too.”
“I mean, it meant so much because despite how much of -ahem let me check my notes- big star I am, there is totally a reason to stay around.”
Kurapika paused. He jolted up to his feet and then stared down at the mischievous Kuroro.
“You…Did Killua tell you?”
“No, but you might think that since those two have been -hold on, let me check my notes again- meddling and pushing us together.”
“You…” Kurapika took a few deep breaths. “You. Were. There.”
“In the men’s bathroom, that is correct.” Kuroro smiled to himself quite proudly while Kurapika almost cried in horror. Then, as an afterthought, he said, “It doesn’t count as eavesdropping, since that space is totally communal.”
“That isn’t- This is- I…” Kurapika couldn’t find his next question. He couldn’t find his next course of action. But, he could think of one question to ask his smug rival.
“So, you heard everything I said. What are you gonna do?”
Kuroro looked up at Kurapia steadily as he rose from the ground. “It’s true that I won’t be able to see you every day like I was able to when we were shooting this arc…But, well-” Kuroro paused to scratch his head, but Kurapika caught the blush.
“You actually want to continue this?” Kurapika incredulously asked.
Kuroro nodded. “Only if you want to, of course.”
“But where will you find the time? Your shoots already take you across the world.”
“There are video calls, and I always pass through LA at least once a week.”
“But are sure…” Kurapika paused, unsure. “Are you sure you wanna put all this effort in for something so spontaneous? For someone like me?”
Kuroro bristled. His features deepened, and a severe shadow overtook his face. “I should be asking you that. Are you sure you’d want to put up with all of this for someone like me?”
“Of course! But, Kuroro, I just don’t understand. Why me?”
“I think we’re both just going around in circles,” Kuroro said, laughing. Kurapika nodded along, sighing. But these sighs weren’t as heavy anymore.
“And…And you’re being serious? About all of this?” Kurapika warily asked.
“Of course,” Kuroro took one of Kurapika’s hands in his own. “Can you imagine how bad of a person I’d be if I wasn’t? I’d be worse than Chrollo.” With that hand, he brought Kurapika’s hand to his lips and kissed them while holding eye contact.
Kurapika’s flush was accented by a sharp ‘click’. Both men turned to see a darting figure dressed in a gray hoodie and jeans.
“It's that Paparazzi from earlier! I thought he left,” Kurapika muttered, the same panic from earlier seeping into his voice. He looked to Kuroro. “You need to contact your manager immediately. Earlier, he caught some photos of me drunk, but this is…Oh gosh, this could like, actually be-”
“I think it's a good thing.”
“What.”
Kuroro smiled and snuggled up to Kurapika, apparently heedless of PDA. “I can’t think of a better way to tell the world I’m taken. And to let everyone else know you’re taken.”
“Kuroro, you- you-” Kurapika was seething, but his red ears and neck told the truth. That, and the fact that he didn’t push Kuroro away.
“This is like, genuinely really super bad, y’know?” Kurapika muttered, but his classic righteous tone was replaced by a defeated one.
“Yes, yes, I agree. It's very bad for all those who were after your affection.”
“Seriously, romantics aside, we should probably run to catch up with him or warn our managers,” Kurapika suggested weakly.
“Maybe. Right now though, how about we head back to the party?”
Kurapika crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze at Kuroro, acting like he was actually thinking about the offer. But they both knew his answer was inevitable.
Kurapika only blushed at the tip of his ears as he took Kuroro’s hand in his. With a too-simple ‘let’s go’, they walked back through the lobby where they’d first shared their conversation outside of mortal enemies.
“Can you imagine how hard this relationship would be if you had actually killed my entire family?” Kurapika wondered.
“Yes, it's good that HunterxHunter is fiction.”
“So, Gon,” Killua began between mouthfuls of chocolate-covered strawberries. “Do you think those two made up yet?”
“Yeah, I hope so. I kinda like Kuroro,” Gon answered between mouthfuls of steak.
“Insane to think he came to us first and demanded that we wingman him and Kurapika.” Killua shuddered at the thought.
“Y’know, as nice as he is sometimes, I feel like Kuroro is a little too similar to the character Chrollo. He definitely has a more, uh, evil side?”
“No Gon,” Killua made steady eye contact with Gon. “It’s not an evil side, it’s an insatiable, ravenous appetite for the things he wants. Even more terrifying than classic villainy.”
“Like, a food appetite?”
Killua sighed. “Sure, Gon, sure. Just, if Kurapika’s walking weird, don’t ask about it.”