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He's exhausted. He's constantly saying it, but it's never been truer than now. He's lying on the dirty, black-tiled bathroom floor of a random gas station. It's the middle of the night, winter time, so the sun won't set for another good four hours, at least.
His chained hand is pressing onto the open wound on his stomach, trying to slow down the red that's staining his new shirt, as he figures out a plan that involves not bleeding out in a store in the middle of nowhere.
The Mafia's business is shady, of course, and getting hurt is basically a job requirement, especially when you're outnumbered and outgunned. He really should listen to his colleagues and start bringing a glock to work. If he ever gets to live another day to do it, that is.
He should get up and walk out of here; get somewhere safe where he can sew himself up better. Unfortunately for him, the bullets he was shot at with aren't ordinary; they're part of an ability, so they don't budge if any Nen technique tries to get rid of them. Thus he has to turn to good, old medical help instead of his chains. Using Emperor Time now isn't a good idea, anyway.
His phone rings, and he sees Melody's name pop up on the screen. He picks up.
"Where are you, Kurapika? You were supposed to be back by now," comes Melody's soothing voice.
"I'm in a gas station, north of York New City; I got shot, and I can't use my Nen to heal myself," he gasps out, briefly glancing down at the pool of blood forming on the dirty floor. He needs to hurry.
"I don't know when the cars will be back from the mission, Kurapika. You might be on your own this time. Do you think you can hold on until they arrive?"
He doesn't. If the cars still have to get back from the other side of town, by the time they reach him, he'll have bled out.
"No. I'll have to find another way," he presses his hand harder on the wound when a rush of pain makes its way through his body. He shuts his eyes close in an attempt to soothe the sting, letting his head drop and bang on the wall supporting him.
"Kurapika, there might be someone who could help."
He already knows what she's about to say. He can't say the thought didn't cross his mind, but he quickly discarded it when he realized how stupid it was. He'd rather die out here than face him.
"I can find a hospital, I don't—" "But what's easier, Kurapika?" She notes with a hint of reprimand.
He knows she's right, he doesn't have much time left, and Leorio's apartment is close by (he might've snooped around and found out where he lived when he was still considering visiting).
That's how he winds up in front of a collapsing apartment complex.
He might be dizzy from the blood loss, but he thinks he's never seen such an ugly building, if it can even be called that. Kurapika isn't one to judge people's housing, but it is simply an objective statement. The walls that aren't disintegrating have been vandalized, and he thinks he saw some rats running inside. He doesn't miss the times he's had to live in places like this one.
Weakly and slumped forward, he makes his way inside, taking the elevator and reaching the fifth floor. After a few turns, he finds himself standing at the doctor's door, not knocking and still somehow mad that the door won't open.
He closes his eyes and sighs, raising his hand and thumping curtly three times.
It's late at night; he's probably sleeping, if he's even home. He's a doctor now, he reckons. He's made it; he's accomplished his dream to save people.
Kurapika has always admired him for it. Even though at the beginning Leorio used to conceal his true reasons for becoming a hunter, when he'd revealed his past, Kurapika couldn't help but feel proud of the person in front of him; even more so now.
As this train of thought launches him into a nostalgic state, he hears shuffling from inside the flat. A gusk of hair hits his face and the door swings open with force.
"What the hell? It's three in the morning. Don't you have any respect-" He cuts himself off as soon as his eyes can focus on the person standing at his threshold.
He hasn't changed at all, Kurapika notes. His hair is disheveled, he hasn't shaved, and his attire consists of a pair of ugly bermuda shorts and a white t-shirt with my tummy hurts printed in a childish font on top of a piss-yellow star drawing.
Leorio is embarrassed to admit how long it takes him to notice that his friend is basically losing an organ. He, instead, takes his sweet time gaping at the face he hasn't seen in months, reminiscing on the memories surfacing, and generally standing still like an idiot.
As his eyes trail lower, he finally notices the enormous blood stain on Kurapika's suit and panics.
He grabs the blonde's arm and drags him inside to the couch, promptly pushing him down from the shoulders.
He doesn't speak a word as he snatches his emergency kit and starts sanitizing his hands and tools.
While Leorio "prepares for surgery", his brain tries to elaborate whatever the hell is happening at the moment.
Kurapika is here. He's really here. After months of being away and ignoring his calls and messages. Leorio is aware that anger is sprouting in the back of his mind, vicious and potentially cruel. He takes a deep breath, dropping the kit next to Kurapika, and he starts working on taking his coat and shirt off.
He doesn’t give himself time to think as he cleans the deep cut and stitches it back together. Kurapika, as usual, doesn't make much of a fuss, only gripping the fabric of his pants when the needle makes contact with his own, pale skin.
When the bleeding finally subsides, an awkward atmosphere sets in the air.
"Ahem, thank you, Leorio," he says, without meeting his gaze. He shuffles to cover up and buckle his belt and readies to immediately bolt, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"You're not gonna stay?" Comes the still hazy with sleep voice. Leorio's eyes are droopy, sorely tired from all of the work at the hospital and studying. And Kurapika woke him up.
"I should leave, so you can rest... You must have a packed day waiting for you." He doesn’t remember when it all became so unbearably uncomfortable between the two of them. The fact that they haven't spoken in almost a year may be a cause.
"I thought you might want to catch up. I haven't seen you in forever, Peeks," he scoffs.
Kurapika knows Leorio didn't mean it accusatorily; nonetheless, he feels compelled to defend himself.
"I was busy." A scowl appears on his face, and he crosses his arms to warn Leorio of what he's walking into.
"Damn it, Kurapika," he says incredulously as he stands abruptly. "You show up at my door while you're losing an organ, and you don't even have the time to-"
He trails off, exhaling a defeated sigh.
"I can't do this with you," he turns on his feet and strolls to his room, leaving Kurapika alone, lost with Leorio's sudden change of mind.
He briefly considers sneaking out without being heard, simply because he doesn't much enjoy the path their conversation took. He tosses the idea to the side and, gathering up all of his courage (he finds that he truly doesn't have much; he was never a man driven by bravery or pride, but by mindless revenge and dread), he takes a step in the direction Leorio scurried off to.
He finds him on the edge of his twin bed (an undersized bed for a man like Leorio, in Kurapika's humble opinion), his back turned away from him, looking outside into the dark and foggy night.
"Did you know that Gon and Killua fought?" Leorio asks, trying to hide the quivering of his voice.
No, Kurapika did not know that. Honestly, he didn't even think it was possible for those two to not be together. He says as much.
"Yeah, I thought so too. They changed so much," he murmurs.
"They've grown up."
"Sure, but it's not just that. We've all changed; we're not the stupid kids who took the hunter's exam anymore. We've seen a lot of shit happen. Been through things most people would consider enough to go to a psych ward."
Kurapika can't really tell where Leorio's going with all of this. He nods regardless, even though the other can't see him.
"I miss those times, you know?"
His mouth quirks up, "I miss them, too," and Kurapika isn't lying. He ventures closer to where Leorio's sitting, lowering himself on top of the covers, next to the taller boy.
He doesn’t mind the quietude that follows, if not for the feeling of dread unfolding in the bottom of his stomach.
"I would've been good to you," Leorio says, breaking the silence. "I could have treated you right if you had just let me." His eyes are set on Kurapika's, unyielding and as serious as ever.
Kurapika's breath catches in his throat, his eyes go wide, and a hint of red appears under the black contacts concealing his irises.
"I didn't think—" "Yeah, that much is clear."
"Let me finish," he frowns. "...I didn't think you would care."
And doesn't that break Leorio's heart just a little bit. It must show on his face, seeing that Kurapika looks away in shame.
He feels guilty saying it out loud, mostly because he knows how much being reliable means to Leorio, and the way he despises causing unjustified harm to others. So it's understandable for Kurapika to anticipate a sad look on his face; what he doesn't expect, when he raises his gaze, is Leorio's brows knitted and his jaw clenched tight, clearly enraged.
"You didn't think I'd care?" His voice is harsh as he yells at the blonde in front of him, "When have I ever given you any reason to doubt our friendship, Kurapika?"
He's in disbelief. How dare he say something so... dumb, and untrue.
"Seriously, your ass must be jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth." He's stood up, pacing before the boy who's sitting on his rugged bed, who's staring at him with widened eyes and his mouth agape, trying to make sense of Leorio's reaction.
"If anything, I'm the one who had reasons to doubt it," he spouts, facing away.
"What?! What makes you think—" "Oh, I don't know, the fifty missed calls? The unanswered texts? The lack of speaking directly to me for the past year, if not strictly necessary? Tell me, Kurapika, what part of this behavior screams "affectionate friend" to you?" He retorts with no small amount of snark, crossing his arms with authority.
"You don't know what you're talking about," comes Kurapika's cold response as he purses his lips in disdain.
"You're right, I don't. You won't tell me anything; how am I supposed to know what goes through that brain of yours if you won't say it?" He's getting closer to the runt, not breaking eye contact.
"My apologies, I was too preoccupied with avenging my clan to consider how you might feel if I didn't pick up a call," he retorts with no little amount of sass.
"You are so selfish! You don't even realize that your action hurt the ones around you. If you actually started believing that some people do care about you, maybe you could have a normal relationship with someone," the taller boy yells back.
His red orbs stare at him with furrowed brows and the corner of his lips pulled down. He's gotten closer to Leorio, he notices subconsciously.
"I wanted," he begins with a trembling voice, "to give you a chance to live happily, without being dragged into my mess; I thought it would have been easier for all of us if I had just... disappeared."
Leorio's eyes soften just a bit. He understands this; as much as the words carve a whole in his chest, where his heart should be, he knows that Kurapika only wanted to protect them.
"But it wasn't your choice to make," he voices. "I know you mean well, Kurapika, but if I want to risk my life and help you in whatever criminal and dangerous activity you're doing, it's my choice. And I would've liked to help you."
"You would have most likely died, or gotten seriously hurt," counters Kurapika; his resolve is slowly crumbling; he can feel his mind running away from all of the walls he built for himself in the past year.
He blinks at Leorio, trying to gulp down the pain of being choked up.
Brown eyes drop to Kurapika's lips, before returning to the red pair of orbs.
"I would've done it either way," he whispers.
There's silence for the first time in the apartment; the only sound to be heard is their heavy breathing. Kurapika's knitted brows relax; understanding dawns upon his features. The air in the room is heady; the tension could be cut with a knife.
The taller boy steps forward, closing what little space was left between them. He slowly leans down, waiting for Kurapika to stop him.
He doesn't.
The kiss per se doesn't make sparks appear out of thin air; they're both a little awkward, and Kurapika is a little too shook to reciprocate at first.
But if it isn't everything Leorio's ever hoped for. He's been waiting for this moment for a good, long while.
He's not going to lie and say it was love at first sight with the blonde—Leorio definitely hated his guts when they met—but still, he doesn't think he has ever stumbled upon such an irritating yet kind, clever, and angelic man. He's almost so caught up that he doesn't remember that he's nonetheless enraged.
He pulls away, much to his displeasure.
"We still need to have a chat about it," Leorio declares.
Kurapika merely nods before grabbing the man's shirt and pulling him back into a heavy kiss. Leorio reciprocates immediately, kissing him like breathing is an optional requirement. In Leorio’s defense, Kurapika isn't giving him time to do it, drowning all of his unsaid words in endless kisses.
His tongue slips in Leorio's mouth, and it elicits a sound akin to a broken moan from the taller boy. Damn, that is good.
His hands sneak around the curve of Kurapika's waist, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed against each other; every motion and movement causes some sort of friction that makes a shudder run down his spine, and shaky breaths leave his mouth.
He gathers enough strength to form a coherent thought and pushes himself away from the wall, instead flipping their positions so that Kurapika's back is flat against the surface. His right arm moves from his waist to his thighs, gripping them and hoisting up the smaller body, as their faces reach the same height. He takes the chance to steal another open-mouthed kiss. He trails down from his mouth to his cheeks, his pale neck, sucking a bruise near his collarbone. Kurapika's chained hand finds its home in Leorio's hair and starts pulling it, not enough to hurt, but definitely enough for Leorio to feel a strain in his pants.
A breathy groan makes its way out of his mouth when Kurapika starts squirming and thrashing, producing friction right where they need it.
Leorio starts gently moving his hips forward, enjoying the way Kurapika's face scrunches up in pleasure. He sets a slow pace, rutting up onto him.
When the barrier between the two becomes unbearable, he swiftly moves the blonde to the bed, throwing him on the covers with a small amount of grace.
His hands fumble to try and undress both of them at the same time, before Kurapika's chained fingers brush against his, delicately slipping his belt off and unlacing Leorio's pajama pants.
Leorio can feel all of his blood leave his face and head south as Kurapika pulls his dumb shirt off and leaves a trail of kisses from his neck to his clavicle.
Goosebumps appear on his skin, and his own hands grip the fabric of the blonde's shirt.
When Kurapika hits a soft spot, he lets out a muffled groan, dropping his head to rest on Kurapika's chest.
His eyes shoot out of his head when he feels fingers grazing his waistband. They play with the hem for a moment, before slipping in and finding their rightful place. Leorio closes his eyes and waits for Kurapika to work his magic. And does he ever.
He starts moving his wrist, up and down, gently, like Leorio will brake if he's too rough. The doctor pants, struggling to keep his hips from moving.
When he feels himself getting dangerously close to finishing, he pushes Kurapika's hand away. Hastily, he frees the blonde of his own pants, moving around with little grace and positioning himself between Kurapika's legs.
"Do you know how long I've waited for this to happen?" He asks, while his fingers trail down Kurapika's stomach, sending shivers through his body.
He preps him as best as he can, impatient with both his want and Kurapika's protests, as he claims he doesn't need all this attention beforehand.
When he finally concedes, he lines himself up, raising his gaze to match Kurapika's. He's surprised (though not really) when he finds nothing but pure adoration.
He gently pushes in.
His vision blurs, feeling the tight heat around himself, and watching Kurapika's face scrunch up in painful pleasure.
Leorio can feel Kurapika's nails digging in his shoulders, his breath hitching next to his ear, and his legs trapping him around his waist. He finally bottoms out, grunting in pleasure as his vision clouds. He takes a few seconds to catch his breath, and to wait for Kurapika to get used to the feeling.
When he feels the pressure on his shoulder loosen and Kurapika’s eyes open, he gets the message loud and clear. Move.
And move he does. Slowly, at first, then building up a rhythm.
His mouth finds Kurapika's, pressing messy kisses and sharing breathy moans. He knows he's doing something right when he moves upwards and Kurapika throws his head back, as he tries to meet Leorio's pace with his hips.
The room is hot and smells like sweat, sex and Kurapika. He couldn't ask for anything more.
"Leorio, I'm-" he trails off as Leorio's mouth latches to his neck, leaving red bruises with his teeth. He's close as well.
All it takes are another few thrusts for Kurapika to moan, and for his eyes to turn the brightest shade of scarlet red. Leorio follows quickly after, dropping his head to let his forehead rest against the boy underneath him.
The sound of their breathing drowns out the traffic starting to form outside. It must be early in the morning now.
Once they've both completely regained their senses, Leorio slips out, scurrying to the bathroom to grab a wet towel to clean them.
When he's done, he throws the towel in the sink, returning to the bed and lying down under the covers, exhausted.
Kurapika is still sprawled on the bed, his eyes closed and his hair messed up.
The lights aren't on, but Leorio can see his beautiful side profile thanks to the light coming from outside.
He turns on himself, lying on his side to face Kurapika.
Said boy, as if to sense his gaze, opens his eyes, that have gone back to their original color.
"You're staying the night." He leaves no room for discussion. He raises his hand and brings it to Kurapika's hair, lightly playing with it.
And Kurapika doesn't know what to do with this. He's left him, ignored him, possibly even broken his heart; and yet Leorio persists.
He realises then that he still hasn't apologized for anything.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, his voice a little raspy and definitely shaky. "For everything I put you through."
Leorio stares at him for a second, gathering his thoughts, before smiling.
"It's alright, Kurapika."
And just like that he's forgiven.
Why?
Why is Leorio so nice?
"I've been horrible to you. Why would you forgive me?" Comes Kurapika's million dollar question.
It doesn't make any sense.
Leorio seems unfazed, his hand keeps running through blonde stands.
"I think you know why."
An overwhelming feeling blooms in his chest, and Kurapika is sure his cheeks are as red as his eyes.
Leorio just looks at him like what he said hasn't changed his life forever.
Kurapika lifts himself on his elbows and crawls closer to the left side of the bed.
He wastes no time and attacks Leorio with his lips, devouring any word or thought Leorio might've been conjuring.
He pulls back, enough so that they're lips are grazing, before offering a small smile and saying, "I love you, too."