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Gon wakes up in pain. This is new. The only times he ever wakes like this is after a particularly harsh battle, but the one they’d been in yesterday had ended quickly and without real consequence. So why does he hurt? It isn’t overwhelming, exactly, just a dull aching in his muscles and a stronger, though less fresh, stinging on his back. It hurts enough to jolt him all the way awake, eyes wide.
He sits up, desperately trying to remember if something else happened yesterday that would leave him like this, when he realizes, this isn’t his bed. This isn’t his bed at all. Matter of fact, this is Killua’s bed. He leans over the railing of the bunk, peering at his own below. There lies his own body, spread like starfish, snoring away.
“What?” he mumbles, jumping when Killua’s voice comes out instead. His first thought is that this must be a dream of some kind, but the idea is quickly dashed away when another wave of pain washes over him. Dreams don’t hurt. “Killua.” He calls, with his own voice. It’s the only other thing he can think of; they’ve swapped bodies. “Killua.” He says again, louder.
Killua- in Gon’s body- twitches awake like he’s been electrocuted. For someone who is so calm all the time, Killua always wakes up like he’s in the middle of a fight. He’s jumpy, but only when he was just asleep. He’s always instantly lucid, scanning his surroundings and gauging the nonexistent threat within moments. He comes to the same conclusion as Gon much faster.
“What the Hell?” he gawks, running his hands through his hair, along his teeth, and over his arms. It’s so bizarre to hear his own voice from the outside, to see himself move. It’s more than a little freaky. “Why am I in your body?” He sounds angry, but Gon knows he’s probably scared. Killua doesn’t like not knowing things, and when he’s in the dark he gets scared, and when he gets scared he acts angry.
“I don’t know,” Gon says, sliding off the ladder of the bunk bed and landing on the floor. The aching intensifies as he does, and the stinging on his back flares when he twists too far. “What’s with your back?” He asks, nose wrinkled, even though it’s not really important right now. “Does it hurt in my body too?” Killua goes very red, cheeks flushing, and his brow wrinkles.
“Uh, no,” he replies. “But- don’t worry about it. That’s not what’s important.” Gon would like to disagree. If Killua’s body is hurting, then Killua, at some point or another, got injured and didn’t tell him.
“I think it is,” Gon argues, taking the hem of Killua’s night shirt and moving like he’s going to pull it off. Killua, miraculously, goes redder, grabbing Gon by the wrists to stop him. “Killua, did you hide an injury from me again?” Killua’s signature scowl doesn’t look quite so menacing on Gon’s face. He thinks that it isn’t built for those looks, the angry ones Killua is always making.
“ No,” Killua spits, his grip iron around Gon. “It’s- they’re old, ok? They’re old.” And that’s shame. Gon recognizes that look. He’s seen it in the mirror before. He always forgets, somehow, where Killua came from. He’s almost always so chipper, matching Gon’s boundless, excited energy like the soulmates they are. Anger is rare, especially now that they’ve settled down with Leorio and Kurapika, and he can count on one hand the times he’s seen Killua truly break down in fear. All of those times had been Gon’s fault, too. Because of this, it’s really, really easy to forget that Killua grew up in an environment where he was hunted and tortured for the sake of ‘growth’. Gon thinks it’s intentional, a defense mechanism.
“Oh.” Is all Gon can think to say. That would make a lot of sense. Killua diverts his gaze, looking somewhere between the floor and the wall. “Yeah, uh, sorry. I just didn’t realize that…” Didn’t realize what, though? That Killua has scars, or that they hurt? Gon doesn’t usually feel this flustered. He’s always been good at bouncing back.
“I don’t even feel them anymore,” Killua says, as if he feels the need to defend himself. He does this a lot, too, actually, saying things to defend himself even when no one’s going after him. It’s easy to make him clam up and stop talking, but it’s also easy to get him spouting unneeded information. “They’re old, they don’t hurt anymore.” Well, whether he notices them or not, they do hurt. Being used to them does not mean they aren’t there.
“I believe you,” Gon says, even though they’re hurting him a little more the longer he stands here. It’s not overpowering, and it’s not like he can’t handle it, but it is uncomfortable. “I believe you, it’s ok.” He’s still looking at the floor, red as a tomato, but he doesn’t say anything else. “I think we should talk to Leorio.” At this, Killua looks like he’s going to protest. “Not about… that.” Gon placates. “We still don’t know why we’re in each other’s bodies.”
“Right,” Killua murmurs. He crosses his arms across his chest, the way he does when he’s insecure. Gon’s heart pangs. He reaches out a hand and takes one of Killua’s. The hand feels warm. Killua has always said Gon has warm hands, but Gon is starting to think Killua is just always cold. He squeezes gently, patiently waiting for Killua to do it back. “I don’t-” He huffs, the sound foreign from Gon. “I don’t like this.”
“I know,” Gon replies, sympathetically. “Me neither.”
“I want to be in my own body. Yours feels weird.” He shudders.
“We’ll fix it,” Gon promises, squeezing again. “Don’t worry, Killua, we’ll sort it out in no time.” Killua nods, and in a moment of bravery, Gon pulls him in for a hug. It’s a different feeling than hugging Killua normally. Killua’s body is basically just skin and bones beyond all that muscle, while Gon has a little more meat on him. “It’ll be ok.” Killua doesn’t try to struggle out of the grip like he often does, and settles into the hold instead.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he says, softly. He rests his head on Gon’s shoulder. Gon’s heart swells. Affection, especially physical, is so rare from Killua. They’ve been working on it, trying to get him to open up a little more. This feels like big progress.
Gon smiles, holding Killua just that little bit tighter.