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Gon never really thought marriage would be a good thing for him. He never seeked it, he never dreamed of it, he didn't really think of it as much more than a nice party and a transaction. Most women on Whale Island, despite being married, resided alone. Other than that, his aunt wasn't married, his grandmother wasn't married, and to his understanding, neither were his parents: marriage was not a natural thought for him to have. But then again there's a lot of things he never thought. He'd never even thought about dating Killua before he was presented with the option, yet here he is now.
Their situation seems crazy, when he sits to meditate and think about it. Had he been a year younger, had he not caught the Master of the Swamp, had he run a bit slower, had he been shier, had Killua. Or better yet, had a responsible adult in the Hunter association decided that twelve years of age might be a bit too young for a person to decide whether or not they want to risk their life during an exam stuffed with dangers, the tests but also (and probably more so) the other contestants. Where would he be today if any of the above applied? He doesn't really know but he sure thinks he wouldn't be as happy, simply because he's never been as happy as he currently is.
He's in a stable relationship, wed, traveling around the world with the person he loves most. He doesn't have long-term goals to leech onto as of right now, and although it was very hard for him to, Gon has come around with the fact that that's also okay. He feels confident in his capacities, despite his lack of Nen, something he still misses but no longer aches for. All of the friends he's chosen to stay in contact with are doing fine, his family too, and any major foes have been out of the picture for a while now. Even Illumi hasn't been an issue in the last year. Killua still works hard for the day he might be able to take him down, one on one, just like he told Gon he wanted to the very first time they met. Although he's not quite physically and not near mentally ready for that. He knows himself, and he knows what he can or cannot do better than anyone else. Gon follows him around and tries to be there for him every step of the way, be supportive however he possibly can, overall becoming the stable ground Killua was to him back in the day, and despite everything, still is.
Their routine varies from day to day, from place to place. They just do as they can, as they want. Sometimes, sailing across the sea or flying up high during the night, they sleep for an hour as the sun rises and run around the following day, drunken with exhaustion, but drunken still. They meet new people everywhere, help teams of hunters during missions for the association. Squeeze a call to Alluka somewhere in the night, at least twice a week, as she attempts to catch up to Zushi in Heaven's Arena. Killua always gets her pressure down, assuring she doesn't need to get to the top in such a short amount of time. Zushi, who she looks up to so dearly, has been at it, on and off, for years.
Lately, the two of them have been crossing long and large the Kakin Empire, exploring to their hearts' content lost civilizations near the sea as part of a mission for the hunter association, living modestly in a small rental apartment that they will leave soon. It's far from the first time they've had to house in a decrepit, half abandoned place. They often do by constraint but those also bring a sense of comfort to Gon, this apartment complex in specific all the more, because of how kitsch and old everything is. Walking through the narrow, dark corridors, staring at their pink flowery wallpapers, a deep part of him feels home. As for his husband, Killua enjoys anything that doesn't remind him of his family's mansion.
On a similar note, the latter started considering buying a small house, hidden away somewhere people won't ever be able to ever track it down, maybe even build it himself if necessary, or renovating an old place as small as possible. Just a precaution, in case Alluka's ever being targeted. That's another work in progress, though, and not nearly a priority at this point. They've been doing so much lately, it's hard to keep track of it all.
The end of the month nears and their work reaches its closure. Days before their imminent departure, on a bright yet cold Sunday, Killua sits on the sofa by the door when the clock hits nine PM. They'd spent their morning out, helping Ikalgo, a friend of Killua's who also happened to be a chimera ant, preparing for the hunter exam that he now wished to pass. They did not have lunch and essentially rushed over to the only post office still open on a Sunday afternoon, unfortunately situated all the way across the city. After sending out a letter to aunt Mito, they met up at a cafe with Knuckle, who they hadn't seen in nearly a year. It was a tough pill to swallow, finally sitting face to face with someone who reminded them of old times, bad ones, although Gon had missed him dearly. The conflicting emotions were a lot to handle. Killua later expressed feeling similarly about Ikalgo, but in presence of their friends, he'd sat silent, detached from their conversations.
When they got back to the appartement, Gon's stomach was all knotted and his mind so foggy. His heart, a kind of warm he almost disliked. He never knew he could feel so shamefully happy, finally partaking in a reunion he'd longed for, but his husband who he'd hurt being reminded of it all right by his side in the process. Wanting to cool down, Gon left Killua to his occupations and walked over to their small room to take a nap. Probably a great decision, he thought, and the best way for him to not let his moodiness affect Killua.
Once back up barely an hour later, Gon realized he didn't have anything to make dinner with. Most grocery stores were closed by then, and he wasn't exactly in the mood to cook anyway, so he just went downtown to get some takeout food for the both of them.
Killua stared at the ceiling, his face completely blank while Gon set the table. The TV in front of him, potential distraction, was off. The radio to his left too. His head simply rested on the back of the couch, and his eyes, their usual blue seemingly clouded, remained glued to clumpy chunks of uninterestingly white paint.
Gon walked over to him, shimmying his way around the excessive amount of furniture in the living room, and stared at his blown irises before setting a gentle hand on his shoulder, an invite to come have dinner. Killua was never picky with food, and his husband made sure not to choose any meal with red pepper for him, yet he didn't eat all that much. It was unusual, so Gon asked him if he was feeling okay. If he was sick. If he wanted soup, or a bath, or a hug. Killua simply claimed to be fine, a hint of exasperation in his voice that Gon took and accepted. He let him go back to his contemplation on the green couch that wasn't theirs, and later went to bed alone when Killua refused to follow. He laid awake, wondering if he'd done anything wrong. Deciding not to torture himself, Gon fell asleep, certain Killua would tell him if he had.
When Gon wakes up the next day, he feels cold. Killua isn't near him. He isn't in their bed, or room, and after further inspection, Gon comes to realize he isn't in their rental property at all.
He starts to go about his morning normally, choosing to assume his husband has left for a little walk. Somewhat concerned, he decides he'll call his phone, then go out looking for him, if he isn't back in the next few hours.
Thankfully, there's a tender yet distinct knock on the door just forty minutes later, their secret knocking pattern, while Gon cooks their breakfast. He takes the pancakes away and puts them on a plate before pacing over to the entrance of the little apartment, smiling wholeheartedly.
When the wooden door creaks open, Killua's standing there, a delighted smile on his face and a bloody heart in his hand. Gon's eyes jump back and forth between the two equally astonishing sights. He's realizing as he goes that he hasn't seen the first of two in a few days, then decides to focus back on the second and probably most important point.
"Killua." He greets as soon as he manages to open his mouth.
The latter radiates with infectious happiness, and Gon fights off the urge to grab his face into both of his hands and hold it affectionately. "Hi." His voice is low, calm and gentle, everything but fitting for the situation.
Gon swallows a bunch of lost words before he speaks again, staring down at his partner's fist. "Welcome back. Uh, what's that you have with you today?"
The man at the door looks down at his own hands, as if forgetting what he carries simply because of how infatuated he currently feels. "It's a heart." He exclaims matter-of-factly.
Said heart is very clearly human, its particular size and distinguished shape easily identifiable. It sits in a black velvet box, reposing upon red satin tissue. The container is wide open, exposing its interior to the world contently, a sign of just how pleased Killua is with his achievement.
"Yeah—right, that much I'd figured out." Gon steps back for his lover to walk in. He looks out into the patio, checking for potential passerby testimonies by the windows before pulling the door shut with a satisfying click. Finally, he turns back around to face Killua. "Why—no, how—shit. I mean, whose is that?" He sighs, struggling to figure out a correct sentence.
Complexion completely plain and expression serious, Killua responds: "Well, it's all yours now." His arm moves forward, presenting the organ to the other's brown eyes.
Attempting to suppress a chuckle, Gon presses his lips pursed. "Lovely," he declares, blinking repeatedly, "but whose was it before you took it out of it's, erm... cavity?"
Gon's eyes soften when watching the large smile from earlier return to the other's white face, a sweet blush reddening its edges. "Daizoh Yoshikawa's. Remember?"
Unfortunately, he does not. The name rings a bell somewhere, but he can't put his finger on it. His eyebrows furrow gently. "Should I?" He asks, setting a comforting, warm hand on Killua's cold own.
The latter's smile wavers for a second, coming back strong after some inner monologuing. "No, it's fine." He looks down upon Gon with endearment, shrugging his shoulders. His hand moves to hold the other's too, intertwining their fingers. "It's been a while, anyway. He was that one guy back in Greed Island. Beat you up, stole supplies, left." His voice stays steady as he explains. "You know, black eyes, green hair; that one guy!"
Gon's eyes widen and his lips fall apart, his mind flooded with memories he didn't know he had. Greed Island was a mess of punches, victories and defeats all along the way. So many things had happened in such a short amount of time, that specific fight just drowned amongst stronger memories, easily buried for Gon had lost. That instance was all the more forgettable since it taught and earned him nothing, if not insecurity in his strength. It was nothing but a fight he should've been able to handle, or at the very least, obviate.
"Alright, okay. I remember" He nods his head, the pace of the movement fastening as he focuses back on their discussion.
Killua's hand feels nubbly and coarse against his, irritated from the change in shape it'd probably gone through earlier that day. Killua is an incredibly strong man, just one of the thousands of reasons for which Gon looks up to him so much, yet he can't help but fret every single time. When Killua's hands sharpen, it always looks just as absurdly amazing. It's mesmerizing, and so intense. He might try to, but Gon can't ever tear his eyes away from the sight. It's a habit also, and sometimes, Killua's hands morph instinctively to defend or frighten, strong emotions overthrowing logical thinking. But no matter how highly he thinks of them, Killua's pliancy and capacities remain an immense mystery to Gon. The only details he knows about them could be summed up into pain and abuse, so he holds the hand resting against his tighter.
"And why do you have his heart, honey?" He asks, his tone presenting some sort of urgency.
Unaware of his distress, Killua keeps smiling roguishly. "I tracked him down and killed him." He says, the distinctive proud hue from before returning to his face.
When Gon's eyes encourage him to, Killua simply adds that it's for him. A gift. And Gon can only sigh to that, finally understanding the situation he's found himself in.
It's his fault, really. He should've seen it coming. By now, he knows the signs. They've been together for a little while, but a long enough while.
Although Killua's gifts have grown increasingly strange and outlandish since the beginning of their relationship, Gon hadn't realized it reached such extent. Not yet, at least. He's surprised, but at least he knows what's happening.
They both have days when they wake up in the morning and immediately doubt themselves and their ability and legitimacy to love each other. Days during which they foster a thriving will to prove their worth in a relationship as if it was a simple transaction, bringing each other physical and emotional offerings like one brings proof of funds to a real estate agent when going for a purchase.
Usually, when he felt down in that measure, Gon had a bit of alcohol at night, any kind, whatever fit the mood, and then spoke about it to Killua. He was consequently smothered with kisses and soothed into sleep, comforted with words and actions as the moon reflected the sun's light upon him. Even though that worked perfectly, he sometimes couldn't help but give into the temptations to deal with the sadness in more tactical ways; clinging longly to Killua like a magnet stuck to a fridge, or devoting an entire week only to making Killua as happy as he could, some sort of atonement for a mistake he hadn't committed, or maybe had, but not however he thought. Whether it be by making his favorite deserts all in a row or doing his part of their everyday chores until he felt better about himself, Gon eventually subdued his own worries.
Less talkative when it came to emotions, Killua would almost always give into that temptations to fight his demons alone and prove his worth to Gon (and himself), as if he was some sort of possession which's value is objective. Gon didn't want to force the conversation out of him, he didn't want to force anything, and if he ever tried, Killua would hunch over and hide into himself, flee, distract from the subject. He wanted for Killua to step into unknown territories willingly, but that's not something his very essence let him do.
Killua and Gon are very different all the way down to their cores. Completely opposite to Gon, Killua typically grew more cold and distant when he began doubting things, until he was able to find a way to prove himself wrong. He didn't smile as much and he wasn't even nearly as cuddly as he'd usually be. Although his outfits didn't change he stood out less, hiding behind other people and standing at a certain distance. He spoke almost only if essential or if spoken to, and he was much more stringent and much less perceptive to jokes and sarcasm, because his mind wandered elsewhere. He spent a lot of time daydreaming all alone and would usually get mad if he wasn't given a break to think, until something within him broke and he snapped, left to fix his moping and came back with an award of some kind to thank Gon for his very existence, and a restored ego.
Which was exactly what he'd been going through this past week, week during which he'd probably thought of Yoshikawa's murder that he'd then planned the day before when he didn't go to bed with his lover at night. Their meetings from the day prior must've been what caused to reach breaking point. And despite their obviousness, Gon hadn't quite caught onto the subtle change in time, with how busy they'd been. It was his mistake for assuming Killua simply needed a break and not digging a bit further, because he could've easily gotten him to speak last night.
Still, he should be horrified. Mad, even. But could he ever? This is much less about pleasing Gon than it is about a traumatized child defending himself against those taunting claims of Illumi's, thrown his way so many years ago now. All Killua needs at the moment is his approval, and he can so easily oblige and deliver. And maybe thanking him for murder isn't fair, but Gon has never been fair. He cares much more about his husband's mental wellbeing than a near stranger's life altogether.
Plus, the gift really is thoughtful, and as bad as he feels for admitting it, Gon does like it. Maybe he is a sucker for attention, maybe he does love feeling special. But it's honestly so smart, he can't help but marvel at the thought process.
Yoshikawa was a man that Gon fought once, who proceeded to flea to the other side of the map shortly after their first and sole encounter. Gon hadn't even remembered his existence. He hadn't resented him or cared for his actions. But Killua had, and by obliterating that past threat overnight, as Gon rested peacefully in a safe cocoon, he unconsciously tried to prove that he cared about Gon's safety and dignity maybe even more than Gon himself did.
If they were normal people with a normal past, Gon would be scared. Of the extent of Killua's abilities, of the density of his passion, and of his thoughts and impulses. But none of those facts are true, they never have been and never will be. A genuine smile settles on Gon's lips, for the first time since the start of their conversation.
"Thank you." His words might seem dull considering the circumstances, but his face says a whole lot more, words that only Killua could ever hear. Wanting to set it down near the entrance, Gon takes the box from his hand delicately and closes it. "But the only heart I'll ever want is yours." He adds.
Killua's head tilts to the right, impassive. "You want me dead?"
Gon's smile persists again, a sigh escaping his nose nonetheless. "Metaphorically, Killua."
"Ah."