Chapter Text
At twenty Killua is all lean muscle and lanky limbs. The awkwardness of his teen years linger in the oddly sharp angles of his joints, the roundness of his face, but time promises to smooth those edges. It does not, however, even whisper the possibly of Killua being able to sleep without throwing half his body onto Gon in the night.
A year of this has made Gon an expert. He maneuvers his face away from Killua’s elbow and shifts over to get Killua’s knee out of his stomach but keeps their arms intertwined despite the awkward angle. His leg is in an expert hold by one of Killua’s legs. An experimental move has him soon dealing with an inescapable cage of two legs. He’s not going anywhere, but that’s fine for now.
Gon’s finger ghosts above Killua’s arm, not quite touching but feeling the ghost of body heat as he traces along a faint scar. Even with all the warmth trapped under the blanket, Killua still runs cold.
“Cold hands, warm heart,” Mito had told him once. He was more inclined to agree after meeting Killua.
Gon’s hands were always hot. Killua told him it was all that hot air in his head when he mentioned it and then slid his hand up Gon’s chest, making him even warmer than before.
Killua’s breath had ghosted across his lips. “Doesn’t seem cold to me.”
Gon’s hand moves to Killua’s bedhead. It’s not much different than his usual hairstyle, but it’s much more fun to run his fingers through his hair at this drowsy hour. It’s even better to twist those silvery strands around his finger, watch them curl softly against the pillow and expand the chaotic bedhead.
Killua’s hair covers some of his face. Ever so softly, as if a breeze, Gon brushes it behind Killua’s ear. His hand lingers, tracing the shape of his ear, his cheek, his jaw and the invisible stubble he finds there. It’s a picture he’s never tired of looking at, but the stillness brings extra appreciation.
Still, it only really has substance when he’s awake. When his ears are turning red in embarrassment or he’s rubbing his rough jaw against Gon in a surprise attack. When he’s poking him in the side out of boredom or smiling softly at Alluka, Leorio, Kurapika, Palm and doesn’t notice Gon looking.
So Gon pokes at Killua’s mouth, feels the huff of breath that escapes, and chuckles. He’s been getting better at not waking Killua when he sleeps, but he knows only the slightest touch can wake him.
(He himself is the same way. Not that Killua knows)
Killua’s eyes crack open, eyebrows furrow in annoyance at the disturbance. Gon watches the exact moment he realizes Gon won’t let him sleep, the gentle surrender of it, and smiles at his grumpy boyfriend.
“Morning,” Killua mutters.
Gon presses a quick kiss presses his nose before tackling him into a mess of blankets and sheets.