Chapter Text
It was mid-December, and they’d been blessed with frequent snowfall. The quiet town was constantly blanketed in calming white. Holiday tunes were constantly playing in the shops, twinkling lights lined the rooftops and the soft scent of pine lingered in the air, with mint and cinnamon and apple cider. Killua relished his walks through the decorated streets and found himself humming along to the music. Yes, he loved all of it, except for the ice.
Thick sheets of ice made stepping outside dangerous, even for someone as agile and steady-footed as he. Every few days, he’d have to clear the porch of ice, since no one else in his apartment building bothered to do it.
Today was one such day.
Shovel in hand, he stepped outside, his breath clouding up in front of him. Someone was playing Jingle Bells on the guitar above him. Glancing up, he saw Christmas lights strung up around an open window, and the shape of someone very clearly jamming out as it danced around.
Killua smiled and dug the shovel into a pile of snow and ice. It made a satisfactory crunch, but the work, as always, was grueling and tiring.
Ten minutes later, he could feel the cold creeping into his fingers. The shovel slipped, clattering onto the ground, as he adjusted his gloves. There was still so much ice left, but he was getting numb. Damn.
“Here, try these.”
He turned to see a boy about his age, holding out a thick pair of mittens. Killua recognized him instantly: he was one of Killua’s neighbors from a complex across the street. Killua had seen him carrying shopping bags from the town center often, but they’d never spoken.
“Oh, uh, thanks?” Killua took the mittens hesitantly.
“No problem! I noticed you do a lot of shoveling, so I picked them up for you, as a gift.” The boy’s voice was cheery. His cheeks were pink with cold, but there was a wide grin on his face, nonetheless. His teeth were really straight and really white. It was almost blinding.
Killua blinked. “I can keep them?”
“Of course, silly! That’s what gifts are for. I’m Gon, by the way.”
“I’m Killua.”
“Nice to meet you, Killua! Oh, I almost forgot! I got you some cocoa, too.” He felt a warm cup being pressed into his hands. Immediately, the numbness began to melt away, and he felt blood circulating properly again. It worked maybe a little too well – his cheeks started to burn with a hot blush.
“Wh – what? You got me a hot chocolate?”
“You looked cold.”
“I – well, yeah.” Killua replied tactfully. There were other words on the tip of his tongue, words like why, and your freckles are really attractive, and how did you know I love chocolate, what the fuck. But he stammered out a weak, “Thank you,” instead.
Gon beamed at him. “Do you want help shoveling?”
“Sorry?” Killua felt his throat constrict with surprise and nervousness.
“I can help you shovel the ice, if you want.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Of course! It’s no fun if you’re out here by yourself, especially during the holidays.”
Killua didn’t know what to say to that, so he just stood there for a moment, looking at the icicles dusting Gon’s hair, and the tiny snowflakes on his nose.
“If you want.” Killua eventually muttered, averting his gaze.
“I’d love to! And then you can help me bake some cookies for my friends, as a surprise –” Gon suddenly looked mortified, slapping a hand over his mouth.
“What is it?”
“Oh no, I spoiled it.”
“Spoiled what?”
“It’s not a surprise if I just told you about it!” Gon’s lip jutted out in a pout.
“About the cookies? But you said they were for your friends.”
“Exactly! And we’re friends now, right? So now I have to come up with something else, for you.”
Killua coughed. “Friends?” He repeated.
“Don’t you want to be friends?”
“I – I’m – I mean, we could, but –”
“Then it’s settled! You’ll get a special present, as a thank you for helping me bake. I’m not very good at it.”
“…me neither.”
“Oh, then it’ll be an adventure!”
Gon started rambling on about his previous baking disasters, hands moving animatedly. Killua just watched, the steam from his hot chocolate winding up through the air, and he suddenly wished there was more ice on the ground, so he could stand here forever.