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“Take a deep breath,” he says, holding the cold stethoscope to the girl's back.
Since he’s still in training and “not a real doctor,” most of his patients are people with common colds or children who need checkups. The rest are patients of other doctors who need surgeries, which he assists in (though he doesn’t really participate or speak, and they last for hours and hours). Which means that he comes across lots of sick people in very limited time, and the remainder of his time he spends trying not to fall asleep and actually follow what the surgeons are doing so that he too can officially become a doctor. It also means that he gets paid pennies.
The girl inhales and coughs slightly as she exhales. He takes off the stethoscope, leaving it hanging behind him.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Miss Tanaka. Your daughter has a slight cough that will go away in a few days if she continues to take her medicine.” He says the last part to the girl, who had pouted before smiling when he hands her a lollipop.
When they leave his office, he lets out a tired sigh and slumps into his chair, throwing his head back and closing his eyes so tightly it’s almost painful. He’s so tired.
“Dr. Paladiknight?” He hears a nurse's voice outside. He hesitates before standing up and yelling "I'll be right there!"
And so another five hours of this await him.
He pushes the door open with his foot, and it hits the wall behind him, digging into the dent that has already formed over the several months of him living here.
He throws his keys on the dining table, not bothering to turn on the lights, and takes off his shoes messily, undoing his tie with his left hand, while his right hand holds him steady to avoid falling.
He moves to the kitchenette without even noticing the smaller pair of shoes by the door.
Pulling the refrigerator handle a little harder than necessary, he grabs a couple-days-old tuna sandwich and gnaws on it.
As he turns around to face the couch, he yells (he definitely doesn't scream like a little girl). In the darkness of the room, on the green cushion sits Kurapika—a very tired-looking, poorly dressed, and too skinny for Leorio's taste, Kurapika. His eyes are hidden by a pair of contacts and aren’t really looking at him; Leorio is very grateful for that. For some reason, he’s never been able to resist those eyes, and now he needs some clarity for the angry rant he's about to deliver. In a minute.
"How did you get in?" Seems like the most logical question to ask right now.
"I broke in."
Of course, why wasn't that his first thought?
"Where have you been?" His voice is deadly calm, returning the cold gaze coming his way.
"Around."
He grits his teeth. "Are you naturally this much of a pain or do you try? I'm not in the mood for your cryptic one-word answers, Kurapika. How about you get straight to the point and tell me where the hell you've been for the past year?" He tries not to raise his voice, but Kurapika isn't making it easy on him, and has barely gotten the words out.
Instead of listening, the blonde looks around the apartment at the pictures hanging near the small second-hand TV. He's wearing a suit, Leorio notices. Maybe he's abandoned the traditional Kurta clothing. His shirt is untucked and partially unbuttoned; very different from the usual neat-freak-like order.
"You have a nice house," he whispers into the silence of the night. His eyes haven’t left the immage of his teenage self framed on Leorio's yellow wall.
Leorio is almost ready to strangle him.
"Let me get this straight: you disappear without a trace, you don't answer my calls or texts, I don't even know if you're alive for a whole year, and all you have to say is a half-hearted compliment about my shitty apartment?"
He has to stay calm; his neighbors can't stand him since he comes home at crazy hours. There's no need to wake them up and make them even angrier.
Only then does Kurapika take a good look at him. He looks exhausted—ready to be killed and buried. He’s cut his hair, Leorio notes. He’s always looked good with short hair. Well, he looks good in anything.
He’s going off track.
Kurapika takes a sharp breath and braces himself.
"I found them all." That's all he says. It takes Leorio about two seconds to realize what he's talking about. It takes him two more to go through every stage of panic he knows. What does he say now?
He doesn't even have a chance to think of an acceptable response, before Kurapika asks, "how are Gon and Killua?" Smooth transition.
"...They're fine. They call sometimes, and we meet up every once in a while." He hears himself say, slowly, trying to understand where their conversation's heading.
Kurapika simply hums.
"How- how long have you been... done with everything?" He has to ask; he just can't resist the need.
A beat passes before Kurapika answers. "A while."
He takes a deep breath. "Why didn't you come sooner, then?"
No answer, of course.
Well, if he's not going to talk about the past, let's talk about right now.
"What are you doing here, Kurapika?"
His head hurts, as do his eyes, legs, back—well, everything hurts. He is so goddamn tired.
He took a train to get here at the crack of dawn, almost falling asleep in his seat multiple times. It took him hours to get here. (Which he spent wondering if it would be a mistake, or if Leorio would even want to see him, and generally rethinking all of his life choices.)
He's not too sure if he even packed everything he needs—not that he has much anyway.
He doesn't know what he's doing here, though. Here in this neighborhood, in this house, on this couch, talking to this man.
Leorio.
Kurapika thought he would’ve been angrier. But of course, he's not. Of course, he's as patient as ever, waiting for Kurapika to get his head out of his ass and start talking. He should say something.
What is he supposed to say to him? That it was a mistake, coming here? That he's not even sure why he's here? That Leorio is literally the only person he wants to be near right now? That he has nowhere to go and no one to talk to?
That I have nothing?
"I... wanted to see you," he finally lands on.
Apparently, it’s the wrong thing to say as it seems to piss off Leorio more. He furrows his eyebrows. “After a year of nothing, you just decided you wanted to see me? What, you leave your friends and decide to pop up when you need something?”
Which is fair. Kurapika knows he can’t just disappear without a trace and expect to be welcomed back with open arms. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“I don’t need anything from you.”
Leorio’s mouth parts, and Kurapika realizes his mistake. “I mean… I’m not asking for anything right now. I simply wanted to be here. With you.”
Leorio appears to understand better now. There’s a moment of awkward silence, but then he asks, “What are you going to do now?” (Now that you’ve accomplished what you wanted. Now that you’re done destroying yourself.)
Well, isn’t that the question? He’s completed his mission. The eyes have been recovered and are safe. Now he has nothing left to do. He has nothing left.
So that’s a good question. He wishes he could answer it without pouring all the emptiness he feels inside onto Leorio. He stares at the doctor without moving a muscle.
“I don’t know."
He can hear the shower running from where he's sitting on the armchair in his cramped living room (slash kitchen).
He offered Kurapika to freshen up and stay the night, right after he uttered the last sentence. He keeps thinking about their conversation.
I don’t know.
Leorio doesn’t reckon he has ever heard so much pain and sadness in a single sentence.
What now? He's staring at nothing and playing with his hands like an awkward teenager.
Eventually, it crosses his mind that he does not own a second bed. Panic settles in his mind. He should probably do something about it. He stands abruptly and starts pacing around the room, the boy in the bathroom next door almost forgotten, even.
He should take the couch. Kurapika is very tired and needs a good night of slumber. Granted, he's probably not going to sleep anyway; getting Kurapika to fall asleep was always a hassle. Maybe he'd like it better if they spent the night talking. That would be nice.
Leorio is very tired, though. After a full day of dealing with patients (each with their perks and downsides; most of them with overruling downsides, actually), he just wants to lie in bed and not wake up for at least -but not further than, given the current time- four full hours.
Would... would it be a problem for them to share the bed? He briefly glances at it from the threshold of the bedroom door.
It's not like they haven't done it before. The nights during the entrance exam were rough. There weren't enough beds for everyone; he couldn't have pulled through without Kurapika's suggestion of sharing a bed.
There was also that one time...
Why is he thinking about this? He's still angry. He's outraged. He shouldn't even have bothered inviting him to stay. Kurapika never had any issue thinking only about himself. He should start doing it too.
But Kurapika had every reason to leave. Sure, he could've kept contact, but Leorio doesn’t blame him for his actions. And the smaller boy obviously feels at least somewhat guilty for leaving.
He's stuck in his place, not moving a muscle. He feels like a protagonist in a movie, with an angel and a devil on either side, telling him what's right and wrong.
He thinks he knows who he's going to listen to.
Kurapika leaves the steaming hot bathroom with dripping wet hair and hefty clothes that were abandoned on the bed. He takes his time exploring Leorio's bedroom.
It's not huge, and he definitely sees some questionable stains on the ceiling. The walls are an ugly yellowish color, and the furniture doesn't match.
Kurapika moves to the messy desk by the window. Different types of medical books are scattered across it. A few plates are stacked by the corner, and there's condensation marks all over it. There's also a picture of Leorio with a person he doesn't recognize. They're beaming, laughing straight at the camera; the other man's arm thrown over Leorio's shoulder. It's probably Pietro, his brain helpfully provides.
Despite the regularity of it all, the room is missing something. Kuarapika is used to being on the move, not owning much, and staying in minimalistic places, but it all feels so... quiet.
The pictures and books are the only hints at human presence in this apartment. It seems quite lonely.
He feels his throat close up. It is lonely.
Leorio is alone. He's alone because I left him. It's what he's been saying to me this whole time.
Suddenly he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. He shouldn't have come here. He shouldn't have bothered Leorio after what he's done.
He decides he's seen enough. He waddles towards the sound of the TV. Leorio is sitting in front of the small screen, seemingly watching attentively the old sitcom playing. His body is tense, and he's gripping firmly the remote, Kurapika notices.
He doesn’t take any steps further. He stands by for a few moments, not moving or talking; afraid of breaking the silence. He does have to speak, though: "I should probably take my leave." He hopes Leorio can't hear the shake in his voice.
But Leorio doesn’t move. He keeps looking straight ahead and taking sips out of an ugly mug.
"Thank you for the shower and clothes," he presses on, getting more nervous by the second and expecting to be kicked out. It doesn't happen though.
Leorio still doesn't turn when he says: "Why did you come here?" He utters those words so quietly Kurapika wonders if he actually said anything. But oh, he did.
"I told you I—" "Don't give me that crap about wanting to see me. If that were true, you'd have come much earlier." Only now does he stand and face Kurapika, "If that were true, you would have answered one of my calls; you'd have told us where you were, that you were fine, that you missed us, that you actually gave a shit about us, and you did what you had to do even though you wanted to stay here with m- us."
To hell with his neighbors, he's going to yell, "You would have called when Gon was in the hospital; you would've told us that you weren't okay; if you cared, you would've asked for help." The dam broke; he's wanted to say this since forever, only he didn't think he'd get the chance.
"You left and didn't come back; we didn't know if you were alive. Don't you get how awful that is?" Kurapika avoids his eyes with all his might. He thinks he's about to cry, "I didn't want you to stop me—"
"I wouldn't have stopped you! I know why you're this angry, Kurapika; I understand! I just wanted to know if you were fine, if I needed to find you to patch you up." His eyes are wet, and he's going to ignore the few tears already streaming down his face and the way his throat is burning with anger, "I wanted to know that I wasn't just another moron who bothered to care for you."
Kurapika almost physically recoils at that.
Leorio has to count to five to not lose it. "Yes, Kurapika, I care about you, and so do Gon and Killua. Why don't you know it by now." It's not a question. Which is good because Kurapika wouldn't know how to answer it.
They just linger in excrutiating silence. Both of them waiting for the other to be the one to speak. And doesn’t that sum up their relationship: both of them stalling, too scared to do anything, too alone to retreat; what a mess they are.
"... I need you to say something, sunshine." His voice is wet and full of despair.
Leorio remembers the first time he called him that: the hunter's exam. It seems so long ago now. Sometimes he wishes that it had never ended. He was happy, sort of, fighting side by side with Kurapika, joking with Gon, and bickering with Killua. It didn't occur to him that what felt like the hardest of times would've ended up being the most carefree he'd be in a while.
Kurapika is gaping at him, clearly uncomfortable and lost in his own mind. He breathes in, trying to find clarity in the mess that are his thoughts.
"You're right, I lied; I didn't want to see you," is all he says.
And it is not what Leorio was expecting. He's trying to figure out if he should be offended when Kurapika presses on, "I'm not sure why I came here, to be honest," he adds.
"I'm scared that I might be using you, Leorio. I feel like I came here because I knew that you would let me stay and that you would understand. When I left, I knew it was the right thing to do. I had to find the Troupe and avenge my clan so that they could finally rest. But the more I stayed away, the more I doubted my choice. You don't know the awful things I've done, and I'm not going to tell you because I'm not sure you'd forgive me. I'm not even sure if they would..."
Leorio is taking in all of this without making a sound. He's simply observing as Kurapika talks.
"I told myself that I didn't need help, that after my mission I was done, that I'd go nowhere and be no one," his voice cracks, "but Leorio, I don't think I can do that. I don’t even think I ever believed any of it. Staying away was the hardest thing I've ever done. But I don't understand why. I was so angry; why aren’t I angry anymore? I have no idea what to do, Leorio. What do I do?" He is full on shaking now. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, and his hands are gripping either of his arms, nails digging in the fabric of his shirt.
He feels disgusting. Nausea is hitting him hard in the gut, his head is throbbing and his eyes burn. He's never shown the raw, vulnerable side of himself to anyone. Leorio. He's different from everybody else. He's so good for no reason at all.
The taller man stalls on his feet for a short moment. He takes a step towards Kurapika, slowly, like he would for an animal, and careful not to frighten him.
When they stand face to face, Leorio reaches for the blonde and drags him in, against his chest, "You're not using me, Peeks. You came here because you feel safe. And I'm glad that you do, really."
Leorio's arm is tight around Kurapika's back, holding him close as if he's scared the other would run.
"I know I probably don't understand your pain, but I do know this: you're not an angry person; you've never been. All that has happened to you caused rage to gnaw at your heart and to destroy what made you you. I like to think that you found yourself again when you were with us," he unfolds his arm enough to look the blonde in the eyes, "and now that the rage has subsided, you need to regain what you've lost and see that there's still more to the world than pain. You're hungry for calm, for peace of mind."
"You can always ask for help, Kurapika. It doesn't have to be me, you can ask anyone." Their faces are really close, almost a breath away. Kurapika is studying him with curious eyes, tentatively scrutinizing him for something unclear to him.
"But sunshine, I need you to realize that I'll always be here," he hesitates, "I-I mean, I'm a patient person, and I don't even know if you feel like- I mean I can wait, is what I'm trying to say," he blurts out nervously.
"If you need to run or to be alone or if you're not ready- not that I'm saying there's anything to be ready for! We can just be friends- I just-" "Leorio," and oh, doesn't he love the way Kurapika says it.
The shorter man has it written all over his face, the tears now long gone, only a shine in his eyes, and a glimpse of a smile pulling at his lips.
"Leorio," he whispers again.
"Yes?" He tries shyly.
Gently, Kurapika pulls him down by his neck, both of them breathing heavily with anticipation, until their lips softly meet.
Now, Leorio isn't new to this by any means; he's had a few girlfriends, and he's not a boy anymore. But he can easily say that no kiss has or will ever compare to this.
It's featherlight, messy, and everything he's ever wanted. Kurapika’s hands are in his hair; his own cling to the other's hips, tightening when the blonde pushes him against the nearest wall.
They pull away for an instant, panting, with wide eyes and red lips, before going back to devouring each other.
Kurapika kisses like he does everything else, with want and an unrivaled determination. He opens his mouth to breathe in, but Leorio doesn’t give him the chance, sneaking his tongue inside and switching their position so that he's the one pushing the blonde into the ugly, mustard-colored wall.
His left hand is firm on his waist, while the right moves up to Kurapika's face, holding his chin delicately, while their lips crash together. He moves his body so they flush against each other. Every movement causes a shiver to run down his spine and make his brain useless.
"Does this mean you're staying?" Leorio gulps as he tries and fails to regain some clarity.
Kurapika gives him a smile that doesn't reach his eyes and presses a quick kiss.
Leorio believes he hasn't slept this soundly in years. Probably since the nights he spent with Kurapika during the hunter's exam. He remembers those well; their long talks, their quiet time when Kurapika would read and he would study. And the way they shared a bed on multiple occasions, sometimes without even having to. So when he wakes up to Kurapika's head resting on his chest, he finds comfort in the familiarity of it. And mostly in the fact that he didn't sneak out in the middle of the night like he expected him to.
He stiffly stirs, trying not to wake up the sleeping beauty, but to no avail. The mass of blonde hair moves around, revealing a sleepy, but definitely awake, face.
"Hi," he mumbles. Big eyes ogle at him, and his eyebrows raise as he watches them turn the most beautiful shade of red.
"Hi yourself."
When Leorio comes back from work (to which he arrived fashionably late), he finds that Kurapika hasn't left. Nor does he leave in the following weeks.
They keep talking things out, and some nights are worse; on others, Kurapika leaves to clear his head, but he always comes back.
They meet up with the kids, they catch up and talk for hours. Leorio and Kurapika don't tell them that things are different between them, yet.
They're good.
"I will give you all of my ore for one rock," he declares.
They're playing catan in his living room. It's still early in the night, and tomorrow Leorio has taken a day off to take Kurapika on their first official date. As much as he'd like to tell the bravery he had to muster to ask him out, Leorio has to admit that the blonde beat him to it. Thankfully so, after all, if they had to wait for Leorio to suck it up and just ask, they might've never gone out.
Leorio raises one of his eyebrows and pulls a face; there has to be a catch; that's too good of an offer.
He tentatively slides his rock card across the table and snatches the three ore cards from Kuarapika.
The other switches his cards for a mystery one, and then immediately plays the monopoly card, "Monopoly on all the ore." Leorio's mouth opens, and an indignant expression settles on his features.
"How dare you! I traded you the card you wanted!" "Sorry, that's just the way the game goes, I'm afraid," he replies with a smug smirk.
"You play this game exactly like I imagined you would, like a war criminal," the other simply grins.
Leorio almost forgot the last time he saw Kurapika smile so sincerely. If people say his eyes are one of the most beautiful things to witness, it is simply because they haven't seen his smile.
Leorio is pretty sure he's staring, but he doesn't care. He actually doesn't care about anything other than how breathtaking Kurapika looks.
He blinks and breathes out, "I love you."
And yeah, maybe saying it before even going on an actual date is a bit stupid, but when has ever formed a coherent thought in the presence of Kurapika?
The other man looks up from his hand of cards and bats his eyelids once, twice, before smiling in the most heartfelt way and saying, "I love you, too."