Chapter Text
It was cool on the balcony when they met.
The moon was full and bright, illuminating the swath of clouds around it. Bright reflection shimmering in the fountain below, dancing amongst the water. A welcome reprieve.
The party inside had the composed, lively chatter that a successful business function should. The musical notes of emptying glasses, followed by the practiced laughter of the deceitful, the opportunistic. Business parties were all the same, no matter where you went – grimy and rotten, with a shiny veneer. On nights like this, the glamour of the despicable was suffocating; a pungent aroma that oozed from every guest. A malicious tension in the atmosphere
Somewhere amidst the crowd, voices were raised, accusations muffled in the smog of decadence, fading as quickly as it had arisen. No one wanted to be escorted out. No one wanted to miss an opportunity to better their position.
And it was there that they had found each other, removed from the commotion inside.
They were 25 and lonely.
This, they had in common.
-
He was ill-fitted in his suit – that was the first thing Killua had noticed. Fabric straining in the sleeves of his jacket, too small and stretched tight; his range of movement in his arms hindered by the snug cut.
The second thing was that he was smiling, a hazy type which in Killua's experience either indicated drunkenness or idiocy. Usually both. He'd long stopped assuming the best of people; much more familiar with the type of person inside the grand hotel. And, as such, was a lot more dismayed that there seemed no place for him to breathe.
His intruder looked a little uneasy now, languid smile fading as the moment stretched. He was dark; even moreso with the lighting from the inside pressing at his back, the golden glow creating the illusion this stranger was shining – brown eyes widening at the short laugh that thought caused. Because if Killua knew anything, it was that nothing in this life truly shined.
He snubbed out his cigarette on the railing, already missing the drifting smoke as it travelled to the stars, as he braced himself for more scripted small talk. Huffing in annoyance, he pushed himself up, straight, taller than the other. That convincingly faux smile now in place.
“Apologies for my rudeness, I wasn't expecting company, Mr, uh?” trailing the question.
"Gon," he said, shaking the proffered hand with a smile.
“Killua,” he offered back.
-
This tall man – Killua – seemed different from the rest. Gon wasn't sure how he knew that, but it was probably something in the way he held himself; confident, experienced, not relying on unconvincing tricks, like the people inside. His suit looked expensive, his shoes, designer – everything about him screamed style, and he pulled it off effortlessly.
Even earlier, before he had realised Gon had unwittingly stumbled across him – when his eyes drank the sky in longingly – he seemed separate, a beautiful enigma mixed in with humans. Shifting between moods as easily as water, slipping between stones. A far cry from the clunky gearshifts of the other guests.
His skin was milky, like the moon. Eyes bright and blue, a magic all their own. Sharp eyed and sharply dressed; he was luminous against the darkness of the night. Gon had been surprised he had been able to touch the other, near expecting his fingers to pass through.
A beautiful dream.
Clapping had started behind them, the party quieting as important speeches started. He felt a thousand miles away from it, standing on this balcony with a relative stranger, but found that immeasurably preferable to the dull, scripted monotony the ongoing function was offering. And of course, that made sense.
Killua was the most interesting thing he'd come across in a while.