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Leorio runs towards Kurapika's voice.
He's only just woken up, has no idea the time, is completely unarmed and still in his nightclothes, but it doesn't matter.
Because Kurapika cried out in distress. Leorio would run straight through the gates of hell without a backward glance at that sound.
(He swears to himself, and to anyone else, were they to ask, that it's nothing more than the fervency of his devotion as a guard. He can't allow himself to acknowledge the alternative. Not someone like him. Not with the nation's king.)
Leorio reaches Kurapika’s bedchambers hardly a second after that anguished, throaty scream, and without hesitation, he yanks the door open and races to Kurapika’s side.
The room appears undisturbed, and the window remains sealed tight, but that’s no reason for Leorio to let his guard down.
“Your Majesty, what happened? Are you alright?”
Leorio is on one knee at Kurapika’s bedside, and he reaches up a careful hand to cradle Kurapika’s cheek, tilting his face up towards the moonlight to survey him for injuries. It took a long time for them both to become comfortable with this sort of casual touch, but now, Leorio relishes it. It’s the only way he’ll ever be able to touch Kurapika, and he’s made his peace with it.
Mostly, at least.
Kurapika blinks once, then twice, his foggy gaze clearing. He takes everything in–the room empty save for the two of them, the open door and closed window, and Leorio knelt at his bedside–and immediately flushes so red that Leorio can feel the heat against his palm.
“Leorio, what are you doing out of bed?” Kurapika’s clearly trying for detached and stoic, but the tremble in his voice is too pronounced to hide. And he hasn’t pulled back from Leorio’s touch, which Leorio enjoys far more than he should.
“You screamed, Your Majesty. I had to come ensure your safety.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly safe, so your presence is no longer required. You can return to bed.”
And Leorio’s just about to, until a shimmer on Kurapika’s cheek catches his attention.
“You’re crying,” Leorio says softly, reaching up a thumb to wipe away the tears.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Are you disagreeing with your king?”
Leorio grins.
“I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again, especially when that king is too damn stubborn for his own good.”
Kurapika can’t hide his smile, and that’s when Leorio knows he’s won.
“You should try speaking to me like that in front of the rest of the staff; they’d have you hanged before you could even get the words out.”
“You wouldn’t let them.”
“I might. I can’t imagine another way to instill manners in my consistently insubordinate guard.”
Leorio opens his mouth to shoot back a swift, clever reply, but he stops himself when he realizes Kurapika’s play.
“You’re trying to distract me! You’re trying to goad me into bickering with you so I’ll stop asking what woke you up!”
“Is it working?”
Leorio sighs.
“Kurapika,” he says softly.
It’s a low blow and he knows it, using Kurapika’s given name like that. Leorio uses it so rarely, and here, whispered to him in the darkened bedchamber, knelt at Kurapika’s side, it’ll be impossible to resist. But Leorio is willing to use whatever underhanded tactics he has to if it means Kurapika will just allow someone to take care of him for once.
And it works. At the sound of his name, Kurapika sucks in a sharp, startled breath, and then all the fight drains out of him at once, and he curls in on himself, shoulders hunching and head drooping.
“It was just a nightmare,” Kurapika says. “About the massacre. That’s all.”
For once, Leorio has absolutely nothing to say.
The massacre was nearly a decade ago. It wiped out the entire royal family, save Kurapika, in an attempted coup. Kurapika, only fifteen then, had been forced to take on the mantle of king, and he had done so with a poise and grace Leorio couldn’t begin to fathom.
But that doesn’t mean what happened was easy. Or bearable, even. Leorio knows that the nightmares are far more regular than Kurapika would willingly admit. But this is the first one he’s woken up from screaming.
Still kneeling on the ground, Leorio takes Kurapika’s hand and presses his lips to the back of it. The gesture could simply be one of fealty, and Leorio needs that deniability, because the truth is the sort of thing that could get him executed.
I love you, he thinks, with all the ferocity he can muster. I’ll always protect you. No matter what tries to hurt you, it’ll have to go through me first.
“Allow me to play you something. To help you sleep.”
Leorio rises to retrieve the lute from the corner of the room, but Kurapika stops him with a hand wrapped tight around his wrist.
“No, Leorio… I…”
Kurapika won’t meet Leorio’s eyes. His cheeks are a deep red and his hand trembles slightly around Leorio’s wrist.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
For a moment, Kurapika’s quiet, and then the words come out in a rush.
“I don’t want you to think I’m asking for anything untoward. I would never abuse my power like that, and least of all with you. So please, don’t misunderstand me. But would you… stay with me?”
“Of course.”
Leorio answers without thinking. Leorio would follow behind him, unceasing, until his feet cracked and bled. He’d set himself on fire in the hopes of keeping Kurapika warm. Staying beside him tonight is the least of what he would do, if only given the chance.
No doubt the servant who brings Kurapika his breakfast tomorrow will spread gossip about the sight of the two of them, Kurapika folded in Leorio’s arms, his head fitted against Leorio’s chest as if the two of them were made for it.
No doubt this indulgence, Kurapika’s warm and sleep-soft body against his own, will have consequences far greater than either of them can fathom right now.
But those are problems to confront when the sun rises. Here, in the dark, anything is possible. Here, in the dark, Leorio can lean down and press a chaste kiss to Kurapika’s hair, deniability be damned.
Here, in the dark, Leorio can half-convince himself that they really could be lovers someday.