The silence in the car on the way to pick up the boys is a heavy thing. It weighs on Leorio's tongue, tangling up all the fears and wild, desperate hopes that fill Leorio's lungs.
Kurapika almost kissed him.
There is no denying that. Leorio remembers it like a physical presence on his skin, tingling and aware of all the ways they could have and didn't touch. Kurapika almost kissed him, and it was only the phone call from Gon that interrupted them. Of all times for Kurapika to be attentive to his damn phone. Leorio gnaws on the inside of his lip, hands flexing and unflexing on the steering wheel. There is no denying the way that Kurapika leaned into his space, his eyes darting down. Kurapika was free to back up at any time, and still he allowed Leorio to pull him closer and closer, to dare to put his mouth so close-
But Kurapika is as still as a statue beside him now and there is no trace of the helpless desire Leorio had gotten a glimpse of.
Hell, Kurapika hasn't so much as looked at Leorio since they left the room. His discomfort is plain to see, strung along the tension in his shoulders to the way his hands are clasped together in his lap, tight around each other, blanching around the silver rings on his fingers. It hurts Leorio to look at, puts him off balance. He doesn't like it. He doesn't know what to do about it either, though.
Finally, Leorio clears his throat. "You could have stayed in the room if you wanted to," he says, quiet and hoping the thread of uncertainty weaving through his voice is less apparent to anyone else than it is to him. "You didn't have to come along."
Kurapika is silence for a length of time that has Leorio's skin crawling, skittering and uneasy. But finally, he sighs. "I know, Leorio."
And that-
That's fucking it.
That's all he gets, as Kurapika falls silent once more, returning his gaze to the window and the darkening highway beyond, and Leorio clenches his mouth shut with enough force for his jaw to fucking ache. Fine. Fine, whatever, if Kurapika wants to be sullen and taciturn about this as he fucking does sometimes, then Leorio can weather him.
Weather him and think, constantly, of that moment of shared breath, but he's tough. He'll survive. Leorio has had his heart broken before and come out only stronger for it.
He'll survive.
The kids chatter constantly when they clamber into the car, and Leorio welcomes the sudden influx of noise, hanging his preoccupation like a coat on the hook by the metaphorical door, focusing right now on their enthusiasm and jumbled words and like that, he's able to smile at their kitschy triumphs, the odd discoveries they've adopted to bring with them from whatever stores they popped into. It's just when there's a bare, empty breath, he looks over at Kurapika and his breath stutters again -again -again. His heart pounds and his palms sweat and a whole host of other romantic cliches that have Leorio biting the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tastes iron.
But.
Leorio cannot get the way Kurapika flinched when he came near out of his head. His heart breaks in degrees, wondering when he lost Kurapika's trust of being a safe person to be around, wondering if Kurapika thinks Leorio is the type of person who would hurt him, and he can't- he can't bring himself to wonder who taught him to be afraid, but his thoughts keep circling back around to it.
He has to stop.
The kids are going to notice if they haven't already.
He has to get over it.
At a stoplight on the way back to the hotel, Leorio allows himself a count of three to feel it all. He allows the heartbreak and uncertainty and anger to storm within him, allows his uncharitable thoughts and fantastical what if's to take full rein and flood him fully. He was so close. Still, he can feel the touch of Kurapika's breath, the helpless way he said Leorio's name like it was full of the world itself.
One.
Eyes closed, Leorio experiences every aching moment of it. Every what might have been. What if Kurapika had kissed him? What if Leorio had been the barest bit bolder? Would they be sneaking little smiles at each other right now, planning on getting the kids a second room or at least planning some time alone together? Would Kurapika be blushing? What would his lips have felt like, tasted like? Would Kurapika kiss aggressively, or would he let Leorio take the lead?
Two.
Why did he have to pull away? Why did he look so hurt? If he wanted to kiss Leorio, why didn't he agree to get dinner with him before? Is Leorio somehow not good enough for anything more than a few moments of physical passion, not holding up to Kurapika's impossible standards? Leorio loves him, Leorio loves him, surely that much is worth a shot. But Kurapika had said no, and Leorio believed him. He couldn't not. So why did Kurapika seem so scared?
He doesn't, can't know.
Three.
Leorio breathes out, proud of how steady it is.
"Green light, Leorio," Kurapika murmurs.
Oh how he fucking wishes. Leorio opens his eyes and drives.
This is what comes of that burning near-kiss:
Nothing.
They don't talk about it. Kurapika refuses. He doesn't let himself be alone around Leorio ever. He sticks to the kids like a shadow, saying hardly anything but always present. He insists that Alluka have one bed to herself, so he takes the floor while Killua and Gon pile into the other half of Leorio's bed, and that- fuck, that takes a toll on Kurapika almost immediately. He isn't sleeping as well, and he's difficult to wake when he does manage to sleep. The naps that he takes in the car become more frequent, as Kurapika dozes off with a finger tucked between the pages of Leaves of Grass more times than Leorio keeps accurate track of. It seems like every time he looks over, Kurapika has nodded off again, the purple sweeps under his eyes growing deeper and deeper.
Leorio doesn't know what to do. He just doesn't, and the uncertainty kills him. It feels like the ground is crumbling beneath his feet, like Kurapika is slipping further and further away as a chasm opens between them.
He wanted this trip to bring them closer together.
Given his history, Leorio should have known better than to hope for the best. The world is callous and cruel and full of unpleasant surprises. Of course, this would be no different.
They drive away through California, all the way to Vegas, and the city's lights are almost enough to put this behind them except for how Kurapika emerges on the other side even more exhausted and silent than before. Every word pulled out of him is snappish and ill-tempered, until even Gon stops trying, stung and hurting.
It makes for a tense atmosphere, that's for damn sure.
Unmanagble, and Leorio forces himself to focusing on driving.
"Leorio, can you please do something about Kurapika?" Killua snaps a few days later, the red ground of Arizona stretching in so many directions around them. "He's being an asshole."
He doesn't know where to start with that, honestly. So he settles on a shrug. "I'm really not the best person to talk to about that."
"You're the only one he'd say anything to."
"I'm the reason he's in a mad mood in the first place," Leorio shoots back.
"Then fix it," Gon says, like it's that easy, like Leorio can just repair what's broken between him and Kurapika with a sidelong glance and a gentle word. "He looks so tired."
Leorio sighs, looking over at Kurapika's slumped form, leaning against the railings of this particular outpost, his golden hair whipping around in the wind. Alluka is next to him, the only one truly safe from his outbursts, but they don't seem to be speaking. Leorio wants to go over, slide his hand into the divot of Kurapika's waist, tuck himself close and hold on forever, but he can't get that flinch out of his head.
Eventually, he just says, "I don't want to hurt him again."
"You're not the one hurting him, Leorio." Gon's voice is serious, his face even more so as he, too, watches Kurapika. "That's all his fault right now. But maybe, you might be able to convince him to stop that too."
Silence falls, and Leorio drags a hand through his hair. "You have a lot of faith in me."
"I believe in love," Gon says simply.
Leorio reaches over, scrubbing his hand through Gon's upswept hair. "Yeah, you would, you corny little fuck."
But resolution doesn't do anything for the silence that remains, a stone wall between Kurapika and everything else. And resolution does nothing to calm the clamoring of Leorio's heart.
Anxiety is a familiar taste in the back of Leorio's mouth as they stop somewhere in New Mexico. Kurapika's been in a particularly waspish mood today, so they hadn't stopped even once, and he's paying for it now. His fucking knee is killing him, and he can't feel his palms pretty much at all. He hobbles up to the hotel room, depositing his bag in the corner. He hears Alluka, Killua, and Gon chattering to each other, something about the pool and one of the restaurants nearby and the clarity of sunset over the landscape when the breeze is wicking away the sweat from your brow. Aimless, wandering talk the way kids always do, increasing in volume more and more and-
Kurapika snaps, "Can any of you be quiet for two goddamned seconds?"
Leorio inhales sharply. He can't-. His mind has flash-fired straight to anger, his temper poorly leashed, and he can't fucking do this right now. He has to get the fuck out of here before he loses it at Kurapika for being a piece of shit to the kids for no reason.
"Yeah, screw this," Leorio mutters under his breath. Then, louder, "I'm going to get myself a soda. I'll be right back up."
When he leaves, Leorio takes care to catch the door so it doesn't slam, even though the want, the desire, to make so much noise, to slam and rattle and shake until something breaks, fills him from the ground up.
Every step down to the small shop by the front desk is less and less angry. The act of walking, even as slow as he has to go with his damn knee locked up the way it is, helps dissipate the worst of it, until Leorio is just. Empty. Drained and bitter with it. He lets himself poke around, weighing the merits of picking up a few snacks too. Maybe some of the little packets of Aleeve too, because some naproxen really can't go wrong in helping his damn knee.
He just.
Wishes he knew how to help Kurapika. Even if Kurapika's terrible mood is his own problem and his own problem alone, Leorio still wants to lighten his load and the corners of his heart still open to worry. There's nothing he can help, though. Not with Kurapika avoiding him the way he has been the last few days. Not when Leorio is most likely the source of the problem itself.
(It's awful, it's selfish, but it's times like these where Leorio wishes that Kurapika would just ask to go already. If he doesn't want to stay, then the least he can do is leave Leorio to mourn his broken heart in peace so he can pretend everything is on an even keel when he returns home. But he won't leave, and there's a deeper, more selfish part of him that likes that even more.)
Behind him, there's the clatter of running feet. Leorio turns his head to see who it is as he grabs a Pepsi.
Alluka.
Alluka, her shoulder's heaving as she skids into the store, eyes wide.
"Leorio," Alluka says, breathless.
The hair on the back of his neck raises, a preternatural gift for sensing dread raising its ugly head. Leorio sets his Pepsi back in the fridge. "What's wrong, princess?"
"It's – Everyone. They're fighting. It was a- It was just a mistake, but. It's bad, Leorio, it's going to be so bad, I couldn't- please, you have to-"
Leorio doesn't wait to hear the rest of it. Damn it. Of course. He leaves them alone for two seconds and they're already at each others' throats. Relaxation and fantastic head! That's all he wanted, damn it. That's literally all he asked for, and now he can't even get a fucking soda without the world exploding. He takes off, Alluka following hot on his heels.
He hears the shouting before he even reaches the room.
"-is none of your business!" Kurapika snaps, furious, teeth bared. "Get your fucking hands out of my belongings!"
Before him, Killua and Gon present a united wall, if a shell-shocked one, hands clasped tightly together, their shoulders back and chins high. Killua's face is drained of color, but there's a combative gleam in his eye that Leorio doesn't like. "We didn't mean-"
"I don't care what you meant." Kurapika takes a single, threatening step forward.
He draws himself up short when Leorio moves between him and the boys. It's like sense floods back into fierce gray eyes, though the high flush of anger doesn't fade. Kurapika makes a noise with his tongue, crossing his arms as he looks away from Leorio, from the boys, his mouth set in a scowl.
"Take Alluka and get out," Leorio says over his shoulder.
"Leorio-"
Interrupting, Leorio does not take his eyes off Kurapika. "Now, Gon. Both of you, go."
Killua tries, "Leorio, I-"
"We'll talk in a bit. Go. I'll call you when it's safe to come back." Leorio takes a deep breath, loosening the buttons on his wrists and rolling up his shirt sleeves. "Don't worry. Just go."
He can feel Killua searching his face, but he doesn't dare stop watching Kurapika's shaking form. Whatever the kid is looking for, though, he must find it because Leorio sees him nod out of the corner of his eye before he drags Gon past Leorio on his way to Alluka.
Gon grabs Leorio's wrist. "I wasn't looking for this. Alluka has the same kind of phone he does, so I was just looking for a charger cable."
Leorio blinks, confused. "Okay?"
"Just. I wasn't looking for what I found."
"And what did you find?"
"What they found," Kurapika grinds out, his voice glacier-cold and harsh, "is none of any of your business."
But, wordless, Gon presses a small object the length of Leorio's palm into his hand and then leaves, following Killua and Alluka.
The door closes with a click. Leorio gathers himself, establishing his presence and boundaries in this room full of tension, as he curls his fingers over the cylindrical object Gon passed him, as he raises it up before his face.
As he reads the dosage and name of an anti-depressant prescribed to Kurapika on an empty medication bottle.
"Give that back," Kurapika orders.
The air is still. Kurapika hauls in a huge breath. Leorio's face prickles, a shiver that travels from there down his neck and shoulders, a cold rush of realization, of synapses, firing and connecting the dots. His irritability, his mood swings, how hard it's been to get him to eat or wake up. It adds up. All of it does. Down to the daily alarm and everything. Leorio doesn't know, exactly, why Kurapika is so upset, but Kurapika's pride always has its way of running amok at the worst times.
"Oh Kurapika," Leorio says softly.
Shakily, Kurapika's fists clench at his sides before he holds out one, palm up, expectant. "Give it back, Leorio."
Hesitation isn't even an option. Leorio feels bad enough about reading, about knowing what the medication is in the first place. Leorio offers the prescription bottle to Kurapika, wary of the heavy tension filling the air. "This doesn't change what I think about you, you know."
"Doesn't it?" Kurapika says bitterly, taking the bottle from his hands. "It changes everything, don't lie. You're already looking at me with pity in your eyes."
"Compassion and pity are two very different things, Kurapika."
"Not from here they aren't." Kurapika lets out a tight sigh. "Are we going to keep dancing around this, or would you like to just get it over with already?"
Leorio levels him a patient look, drawing on the deep well of calm within him, and then he spreads his hands, open, inviting. "I don't want to make assumptions."
"You already know."
"Spell it out for me, then, Kurapika."
Flatly, Kurapika says, "I've been medicated for depression for the last three years. My prescription ran out a few days after we started traveling. I grabbed the fucking- wrong bottle before we left, so I'm. This." And here, his words start stumbling, as Kurapika's voice grows thick and he refuses to lift his gaze from the corner of the room, like looking at Leorio is too much. "Again. All I want to do is sleep and die. A sucking black hole of what used to be a person that you should honestly stop wasting your time with. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Leorio shakes his head. "That's not- Kurapika, that's not true. That's not what you are-"
"Yes, it is! It's all I am, it's all I'll ever be. I'm not good enough to live, much less have friends or anything else, and I'm just. I'm so fucking tired, Leorio."
He lets out his breath as a sob. Kurapika's arms wrap tightly around himself, clutching and holding tight, like he's not safe enough to touch anything else, and god, that's. That's unacceptable. Leorio lurches forward, awkward and feeling too-large for his skin. He reaches out.
And Kurapika lets Leorio fold him into a hug.
Kurapika presses his face, hot with tears, against Leorio's shoulder, and it's all he can do to hang on and hold him close. Leorio doesn't know what else to do but to stroke Kurapika's hair and keep him tucked tightly against him. He rocks back and forth gently, presses the barest contact of his lips to Kurapika's temple. Leorio hums under his breath. His voice isn't anything remarkable, but he's been told before that it's raspy and soothing, so he'll hedge his bets and just hum a lullaby or something to try and calm Kurapika down.
"It's so hard to wake up sometimes," Kurapika says, broken and small, and Leorio's throat is tight. "I don't know why I bother waking up when everything is just. This. All the time. Sometimes it's better, but it's always waiting for me the moment my concentration breaks and- Leorio, there's so much I want to do. There's one thing I have to do. And instead all I can think about, day in and day out, is how much I want to die."
"Kurapika, don't-" But Kurapika has built up so much steam now. His shaking shoulders firm, his palms going from pliant against Leorio's chest to clenched fists.
"This is it, Leorio! This is who I am. I waste your time, I lead you on, and this-" he pushes Leorio's arms off him, rough and uncaring and beautiful even with tears streaming down his face, grey eyes bright and red-rimmed. "This fucking disaster is who I really am. Beneath every lie. This is all there is to me. I'm a worthless waste of space who got my entire family killed. You don't need this."
"Don't say things like that." God, Leorio wishes Kurapika hadn't stepped away. He feels cut adrift. Useless, like this. His hands are still outstretched, reaching for Kurapika even now.
"You can't fix me, Leorio. Nothing can fix what's broken in me," Kurapika spits. "This isn't Hollywood. You can't just heal me with the power of your love, or whatever. I'm not here to be your little project."
God, Leorio just wants to grab him and shake until sense falls back into place. He knows it won't help, he knows, he knows, but the urge is there in the phantom pressure on his palms, the false conviction that he could reach out and settle something. Drawing a deep breath, Leorio strangles the urge, shoves it down like stepping out of the way of a train wreck as he bites and wrestles back every unkind word that would be easier to say that the right ones. He meets Kurapika's stern, tired eyes. Says, "Kurapika, this isn't about me wanting to date you, this is me caring about you and wanting to see you alive and well and my friend for the rest of my life."
That, at least, gets his mouth to click shut.
Finally. Leorio rubs his brow, carefully picking out what he wants to say. "You've had depression the whole time I've known you, Kurapika. You haven't changed as a person. You deserve to live and to have good things in your life. You're strong, strong enough to have already reached out for help with a condition that's killed so many people. Why do you think any of that would make me want to give you up?
"It's. It's always here, Leorio. This is never going away. It's always going to be waiting."
"I'm a doctor, Kurapika. Or at least I'm going to be. It may not be my specialty, but I do know how depression works," Leorio says, as gentle as he knows how. "I don't expect it to magically disappear, as nice as that would be for you to never have to struggle with it again."
Kurapika rubs his elbows, holding himself tightly. "This isn't- Leorio, I don't want to make this your problem."
"This isn't a problem for me. If you want to take time to take care of yourself, that's a whole other matter, but this isn't-" Leorio sighs, scrubbing the back of his head. "It's not a deal-breaker for me. I still want to date you, but. That's not important right now."
"I think it's still important," Kurapika murmurs, under Leorio's next words.
He covers the awkwardness with a large shrugs. "And besides, you said you didn't like me the way I like you, so it's a moot point."
Kurapika lets out a quiet noise. "That's not- I lied."
Alright, Leorio couldn't have heard that right. Stammering, he says, "What?"
And Kurapika reaches out, grasping Leorio's shirt as he folds his fingers carefully into the fabric.
Leorio's heart beats against the inside of his ribs.
"I lied. When I turned you down. I couldn't. There was so much that you didn't know and it's safer if you still don't know, but you keep finding out anyway. I just, I like you so much, Leorio," Kurapika admits like the words hurt him to keep in any longer, his fists clenched, wrinkling the front of Leorio's dress shirt. "You're so good and I like you so much. I don't- I couldn't stand myself if I hurt you."
"You can not-date me all you like for any reasons you have, except that one," Leorio says. His words feel like they're coming as though from a distance, because Leorio isn't sure this isn't a dream.
(Kurapika likes him? So… he hadn't been wrong? At all?
There's still a chance?
And his heart, thick and heavy with sympathetic emotion, pounds anew with uncertain, desperate hope.)
Startled, Kurapika looks up. "What?"
"You can tell me anything and I'll accept it unless you even try to imply that you're not dating me for my own good. I can make my own mistakes, Kurapika. I can be hurt and walk out of it bleeding but alive and okay, and you don't get to decide that you don't want to date me for my own sake. You can do that for yourself, but not for me. Don't make my decisions for me. I don't have much to offer for someone as amazing as you, I know that."
"This isn't about-" Kurapika cuts himself off, frustrated. "I'm not amazing."
Squaring his shoulders, Leorio holds up one hand. He holds Kurapika's gaze, steady, even though it's the most awkward moment for extended eye contact. Everything in him wants to run away, but here, Leorio finds a kernel of determination. "No, no, hear me out. Okay? I'm broke, I'm going to be in school forever and when I get out of it, I'm going to be in an incredible amount of debt; I'm short-tempered and rude, but here's the thing, Kurapika: I think you are one of the most incredible people I have ever met. You are driven and focused and incredibly funny when you stop being so uptight. I light up whenever I'm around you. You make me want to be better, to do better, because anything less than that is unacceptable. And you can't stop me from loving you. You can't stop me from worrying about you. I already do. I have. I will, until I get over this, and even then, I'm not going to stop worrying. I'm your friend, and honestly, I'm very, very good at worrying. It's what I do."
Leorio reaches out, uncertain of his welcome, to trace Kurapika's cheek. The skin is soft under his hand, and Kurapika does not move away. Leorio draws a deep breath. "I don't have much to offer, aside from a place in my heart. And it's already yours."
Kurapika's eyes flutter shut. He turns his face, just the smallest amount, into Leorio's hand. "Leorio, you can't just say things like that."
"Why not?"
"You make me want to kiss you," Kurapika admits in a rush of hot breath. "And I don't know what to do about it."
"Hey, Kurapika?" Leorio asks, breathless. "I have a suggestion."
"Yeah?"
"I think you should just go ahead and date me. Then we can kiss anytime."
Kurapika's hands cup his face. Fiercely, Kurapika says, "Fine, yes, yes, you insufferable-"
Leorio has enough time to blink before shaking lips find his own. Skin, wet with tears, slides against his mouth, Kurapika's mouth half-open already, drawing in trembling breaths against Leorio's lips, and Leorio has half a mind to set his hands on Kurapika's shoulders and push him away. He touches Kurapika, intending to do just that, but. Kurapika rests his weight, trusting, against him, leaning into the contact. Heat spreads through him, centered from his chest. He wants so much. He wants to push Kurapika away, to make sure this is what the other really wants, but he also wants to just keep going.
And Leorio is not a strong person.
With a quiet groan, Leorio gives in, tilting his head to the side enough to slot his mouth against Kurapika's. It feels good. Better than good, it feels right somehow, and Leorio pulls Kurapika closer, moves their mouths together as Kurapika shivers and raises up more on his tiptoes, sliding his arms around Leorio's neck.
It's-
So much of what Leorio has wanted.
A tongue swipes against his lips, and Leorio opens without a second thought, chasing Kurapika's tongue back into his mouth, following it with a bite on the lush curve of Kurapika's lower lip
Back, and back, and Leorio goes easily, letting Kurapika lead him just a little, even as he smooths his hand down Kurapika's neck, gentling him, grounding out some of the anxious energy that curls around Kurapika like a vine. He turns the desperate, hungry motions of their mouths into something softer, gentler, though no less consuming. Every inhale Kurapika takes is tinged with a noise too soft to be a whine, too needy to be anything else. Leorio sighs into him. He is ablaze, tingling from head to toe, every atom of his body aligned on Kurapika's axis.
Kurapika presses forward, more and more, and Leorio finally pulls his mouth away long enough to say, "Woah, Kurapika-" Interrupted by a kiss that Leorio returns before trying again, "Hey, Kurapika, shh, slow down-"
"Please, Leorio, please," Kurapika moans.
And damn.
Damn.
Kurapika saying that -almost begging- does things to Leorio's reptilian hindbrain that are frankly unspeakable. It takes a herculean effort to remember everything that came before, and Leorio runs his hands through Kurapika's hair, gentle, pulling them both out of the moment a little. "Kurapika," Leorio says, rough, "sweetheart, I need you to slow down. This isn't a good idea right now."
"Do you think I'm not consenting to this? Is that what this is? Some misguided-"
"No, no! Nothing like that. We're both a little emotional right now, yeah, and I definitely don't want this to be something you throw yourself into and then hate yourself for in the morning-" and Kurapika's eyes flash. Nailed it. Unfortunately. Leorio squashes his inner sigh. He can be disappointed about that later, while he's consoling himself in the bathroom. This is way too important to screw up. "-and besides, I just don't have supplies for anything more than kissing, and I'd rather slow down before I do something rash."
Kurapika blinks. "Supplies?"
Leorio raises an eyebrow at him, wry. "If you think I'm going to do anything without lube-"
"Oh my god, no." His nose wrinkles, an adorable expression of distaste. Leorio laughs, and after a moment, Kurapika laughs with him.
It peters out after a moment and Kurapika settles back in Leorio's lap, making himself comfortable instead of anything more. He loops his arms around Leorio's neck, busies himself with looking somewhere around Leorio's collarbones. Fond, Leorio mirrors the motion, grasping his own wrists behind the gentle slope of Kurapika's back. He can hardly believe that he's able to do this. That he knows what Kurapika's weight across his thighs is truly like.
"The only way I'm doing anything more than this is if we're dating," Leorio says, steady and sure.
There is no hesitation before Kurapika nods. "I meant it when I said yes, Leorio."
"I just- I wanted to be sure." Leorio squeezes him gently. "You said no, before."
Kurapika is quiet. Then, "I don't get nice things, Leorio."
"Am I a nice thing?"
"Don't fish for compliments. It's not a good look on you."
Leorio grins, pleased, nuzzling into the soft curve of Kurapika's neck. He smells really good here, a mix of his skin and his conditioner, and Leorio breathes him in, is allowed to breathe him in. His lips against Kurapika's skin, he murmurs, "I'm gonna take that as a yes."
"Can we still..." Kurapika begins again after a moment of shared silence.
Leorio runs his hand down Kurapika's side. He daringly slides it beneath the thin barrier of Kurapika's shirt, touching the warm skin beneath with greedy fingers, and when Kurapika only shifts to allow it, he begins smoothing his palm across Kurapika's sides. Marveling at the simple fact that he's even able to touch at all. "I dunno," he murmurs, cheeky, kissing his way up Kurapika's jaw to the carmine teardrop of his earring, "can we?"
He leans in-
-and his phone chirps, a text message tone.
Leorio starts. He mutters an apology to Kurapika before he half-stands, bracing Kurapika easily with one hand to the blond's lower back to ensure he doesn't fall as Leorio digs his phone out of his pants pocket. Above him, Kurapika grumbles half-heartedly, voice more interested than upset, thighs clenching around Leorio's hips to keep his place.
"Have you two killed each other yet, or can we come back now? Alluka wants to swim in the pool and her phone is still dying," Leorio reads. "If you don't answer in five minutes, I'm assuming you're either dead or desperately need help, so I'm gonna kick down the door, fair warning."
Shit, he had absolutely forgotten about the kids.
From the look on Kurapika's face, he isn't alone in that, and Kurapika buries his forehead in Leorio's shoulder. "Damn it."
"Let me make that call real fast and see what we need to do and then we can let the kids back in, yeah?"
"I'm still angry at them," Kurapika says.
Leorio hums, tapping his fingers idly on the divot of Kurapika's spine, trying, still, to quell the happiness welling up within him that he even can. His hands are on Kurapika. Kurapika is in his lap, mouth red and eyes dark from kissing him. Kurapika is his boyfriend. "I know, but they weren't trying to snoop. And they talked to you about it instead of sneaking around trying to talk to me instead, right?"
"Only because I came in and confronted them. And they still dragged you into this."
"I think they needed to. Gon and Killua are mature kids, but they're still sixteen. Finding out one of their friends has depression is uncertain ground for everyone, especially when they both look up to you so much. They probably weren't expecting you to explode at them, either," Leorio says, chiding. "That was pretty out of line."
Kurapika makes a soft sound, but nods. "Yeah. I know. I just. It all got to be so much. And this- this doesn't fix my medication issue at all, because. I do need those. I can't- I can't keep being like this."
Leorio drops a kiss against Kurapika's soft hair, just because he can, because it makes Kurapika shiver and press closer to him. "Then how about I make this call while you take a shower, kinda reset yourself a little and decide what you want to say to them. I have some ideas as to what we can do about your meds, alright? Kids first. The pharmacy will be a whole other argument."
"I... okay." Kurapika breathes out. "Okay."
"Hey."
And Kurapika stops in his reluctant journey off Leorio's lap, gray eyes open and curious.
Leorio smiles. "I'm right here with you, alright? We've got this, together."
For a long moment, Kurapika doesn't say anything. Then, he smiles too, the expression small and half-hidden and completely true. "I suppose we do."