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It had been one week, and Knuckle was starting to think that their kiss had been a hallucination.
Leading up to the event, he and Shoot had felt constantly connected. They were always finding excuses to talk to each other or be next to each other, or look at each other from across the room. Even their nights were spent together, not in body but in thoughts reviewing their time together during the day, echoes of a reassurance or a newly discovered kind of laugh went with them both to sleep and carried them through until their next meeting. For at least ten days Shoot hadn’t felt like more than twenty feet away.
Now Shoot was gone for two whole weeks. He was on a trip to a recently opened-up volcano - one that had exploded ten years ago and was much too active for even hunters to go near, but now, as an opportunity of a lifetime, an old buddy of Morel’s was leading a group of younger hunters to survey the explosion zone. It was rumored that the locals found a whole host of interesting ways the local fauna developed to cope with the constant ash and gasses.
Knuckle had wanted to go so badly. Not only was it an opportunity to further his career as a Hunter and learn from a two-star pro, he really really wanted to go with Shoot and so was devastated when Morel ordered him to stay and finish his current project.
"Listen, this project of yours needs to be finished! It’s the kind of thing that’s crucial for your reputation,“ he had said two weeks ago. Knuckle couldn’t disagree but the unfairness of the situation made him groan like someone who was ten years younger. "You need to be seen as the kind of person who sees things through. If you want to catch the eye of someone important, or get the really good jobs – the ones I KNOW you want to be in charge of to make sure they’re done RIGHT – you gotta either be crazy strong, crazy manipulative, crazy evil, or normal with a really good reputation.” Morel had apparently been in the mood for a lecture. “And you are, I’m sorry to say it, pretty normal. So you gotta do just like I do: wear a suit, smile a lot, answer your calls, and see things through. That’s what being a PRO is."
Knuckle really had not wanted to hear it. He knew he wasn’t particularly special or some kind of natural genius like Gon or anything. But at the moment he was particularly in love with Shoot and didn’t want to see him go for two weeks on top of having to "see through” the last bit of his project, which was the part he hated most as it involved wearing a suit, smiling a lot, answering his calls, and updating shared documents.
But he knew Morel was right, so he had said “okay” and looked down at his hands the rest of the lecture about how he should not aim to be a crazy person like Ging Freeccs and aiming to be good and normal was well enough. Knuckle had said nothing the whole time until Morel finally had left the room.
Knuckle thought that Shoot probably felt a little bad about going. He felt no ill will toward Shoot whatsoever, and had in fact agreed whole-heartedly agreed with Morel that Shoot should go – it was an excellent chance for him to make some connections to others related to his field and stretch his wings a little bit without his regular crew around to nag him or hold him back. But he knew Shoot would feel guilty for going all the same. On top of that, as much as Knuckle knew he’d miss Shoot, Shoot might even miss him worse. He had recently learned that Shoot sometimes felt things much more strongly than he did, even though he held back in expressing it. Maybe Shoot was not happy to go at all – it was hard for Knuckle to tell. Whatever the case, it was an undeniable fact that they were going to be apart for two whole weeks.
The night before Shoot left, which was the night of their first kiss (the one that did not feel like it had actually happened), they had been enjoying a slow meal together with Morel at Knuckle’s apartment. Morel didn’t always make it out to eat with them, especially when they weren’t doing physical training so much as looking for jobs and working on research and personal projects. It was always nice to have him there to share ideas and random thoughts. Knuckle always saved a backlog of thoughts he’d relay to Morel, and reveled in his easy approval.
When the meal closed, everyone complimented the chef (a takeout cutlet place around the corner from Knuckle’s apartment) and Morel took a firm breath in to formerly wish Shoot luck in his expedition. Everyone stood up to see him out and Shoot made noises about finishing the last of his packing. Morel patted Shoot on the head on his way out, taking a cue that Shoot wanted to personally say goodbye to Knuckle.
They both watched Morel in silence as he walked off on his way. He was walking a decent pace and didn’t look back, and after a quick minute, he was out of sight and presumably earshot. Shoot was halfway across the threshold, but his weight was still on the side that was nearer to Knuckle. Knuckle had assumed he must have been collecting his words, so he waited for Shoot to speak first.
Slowly, Shoot’s head craned around to face Knuckle, and he said, “I’ll see you in two weeks."
"Yeah. Have fun there - and take care of yourself, okay.” He’s said it quickly with a slight quirk of his eyebrows. He prepared for a quick goodbye so as not to make it feel too bad, and so he already had started thinking about the laundry he as going to get to after Shoot left for the night.
"Knuckle.“
"What?"
"Um,” Shoot stepped to squarely face Knuckle, and Knuckle’s heart rate started to rise alarmingly. There had been some occasions where Shoot had embraced Knuckle before, so he should have been used to it, but it was always an ordeal for Knuckle - it was always so sweet and satisfying, but always completely unexpected and made Knuckle almost die of anticipation every time. This time was no different in terms of anxiety, but Knuckle was learning what to do and how to calm himself down a little better. He let out a slow, shaky breath and reached out at the same time as Shoot as they both stepped in for a hug.
This time, as their chests pressed against each other squarely, Knuckle found it incredibly difficult to calm himself down. He had kept thinking about the warm feeling from Shoot’s chest, the five distinct fingers on his back and shoulders, and Shoot’s short breaths - the thin lips surrounding those breaths. Knuckle’s hands moved across, up, and down Shoot’s back, and he found himself sighing, his sighs turning into heavier and shorter breaths when Shoot’s arm mimicked his own caress. They held each other deeply, working up their own sighing until it became apparent that they were not just hugging and that they had clearly crossed a line and needed to somehow acknowledge it or completely ignore it, break away now, and never hug again.
Knuckle had made the choice after the third time he counted down from five in his head, bringing a hand to Shoot’s shoulder, taking a deep breath and gently pushing him back. Knuckle had been terrified that seeing Shoot’s expression would stop him cold, so aimed for Shoot’s chin as best he could and brushed his lips against them in a breath before opening his eyes.
He could have laughed - Shoot had looked so incredibly relieved, but almost proud, like he had somehow coached Knuckle into making a move. He leaned in, smiling, and softly pressed his lips down onto Knuckle’s with a careful inhale.
But just like that it was over - Knuckle had been replaying the scene in his head for one whole week while Shoot was gone, trying desperately each time to remember with more detail every stage of what had happened. For one whole week he had replayed that scene a thousand times trying to make himself feel the rush and warmth again, swearing he was forgetting some stray details. But because he had imagined it so many times, he was now unsure about how much of it was imagined and how much of it really happened. Had Shoot really been smiling? Did he initiate the hug, or did Shoot? What was Shoot’s tone of voice again? What did Shoot say after they kissed and he went home?
He found himself fumbling with his own lips to jog his memory again, and he immediately stopped, sighed, and put the pencil he had been holding down. In front of him was a list of names and numbers. That’s all they were. He knew he had to call every one of those names, but he was stalling because he hated starting the work. Just ten minutes ago he had been playing with several dogs. Now he was indulging in his favorite procrastination activity, thinking about Shoot, yet again. Morel would be ashamed. Alright. Where was his phone again?
A silent, happy light on his phone came on with a notification of a message. Knuckle immediately pushed himself away from his desk and darted across the room to here his phone was charging. The message was from an unknown number.
"It’s Shoot
No reply needed
Coming back tomorrow
Found something big"
Knuckle’s eyes went wide, and heard nothing for a moment. He got the message not to respond - such code was vital to follow to protect a Hunter in the field. He had no words to respond anyway. Instead he looked at the lines of text over again for information or nuance that he may have missed and suddenly the lines of text moved up to make room for another message.
"Miss you"
Knuckle didn’t know he could grin harder and decided he’d go on a run up a massive mountain - perhaps a nice 12,000 foot one - that night instead of finishing up his work.