A/N: If Kurapika and Kuroro were to be FGO servants, Kurapika could be a 4-star Avenger class servant with a skill debuff that could greatly boost his attacks in exchange for his lifespan (1000 HP loss demerit per turn for 5 turns) because he's suicidal like that, while Kuroro would make a sought-after 5-star Assassin class with outstanding strength and defense but mismatched and random skills and deck cards given he's got one of the worst case of identity crisis known to anime universe.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HXH

BETA: Aesclapia

Chapter 29: A Fresh Morning.

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Kurapika woke up to his first ever raging hangover.

Groaning, he cracked his eyes open only to screw them shut again as a throbbing pain shot right to his temple. He felt nauseous, with his head spinning in dizzying colors. Still, he blinked and tried to make out his surroundings; the familiar ceiling and curtained glass windows, rays of sunlight peeking through the gaps between sections of fabric, the messy bundle of blankets covering his half-naked body, and the figure of the bastard he spent the whole night with. His eyes momentarily set on Kuroro and he quickly noticed the distance between them.

The man, naked with only the blanket covering his skin, was facing his way. Kurapika couldn't tell if he was faking it, but he looked fast asleep. They weren't close enough to be considered cuddling, but still close with their skins touching, one of Kuroro's leg and one of his own tangled.

Maybe because of his pounding head and aching muscles, the instinctive urge to move away from him wasn't present. He doubted if he could even move at all, not after that one... two... total of three rounds of sex they had gone through.

Clear memories began reeling in his mind. Right. The bottles of sweet alcohol that he forced down his throat. The cute notepad. That kiss on his knuckles. The fellatio.

Kurapika closed his eyes tight at the last thought. Damn it.

Not only had he done it, he never even knew he possessed the stamina to endure the rounds following the first, to think that he had been sleepy and groggy every time Kuroro had woken him up…

Well, maybe because Kuroro had done most of the work, stirring him awake with kisses and touches from time to time, wordlessly asking for more. Kurapika had honestly wanted to turn him down, but had decided against it with how his lips had persistently left strange and lasting warmth as they were roaming all over his chest and stomach, how his hands were gripping at the back of his thighs, keeping his legs parted as Kuroro was ramming his hips against him in a slow, torturous rhythm.

Kurapika didn't permit his mind to go further. He couldn't possibly be thinking of dirty thoughts right after waking up. He just... couldn't help it, not with Kuroro's presence right next to him.

He heaved a sigh and stayed still, staring blankly at the ceiling, mind drifting with the idea of just going back to sleep nudging at the back of it. The bastard had sapped out all of his energy without a care for the state he would end up in, but for some reason... Kurapika didn't feel bad about it.

In fact, it was alright.

For someone who was sleep-deprived and thoroughly spent, Kurapika felt lighter, as if a dead weight was lifted from his shoulders. He even felt bothered for not feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, while on a regular basis he would make a big deal out of them waking up together so closely like this.

Instead, his mind wandered back to the previous night.

If he were to grade Kuroro's performance last night, he would give him full mark, albeit reluctantly. He was honest with what he confessed to him—he felt good. Satisfied, even. There was something with the way he had acted that was different, even special, if he were to compare it to the previous sessions they had. If anything, it felt like it was his way of apologizing. The way he had kept kissing him, the light caresses, the silence save for their mingled moans and grunts, the unwavering eye contact. It was as if he was saying sorry in repeat, and this time, he meant it. The previous night was the polar opposite of their session back then at that mansion. Kurapika never thought Kuroro could make love so passionately.

Slowly shaking his head to get rid of these musings, he opted to wriggle away ever so slightly from Kuroro, intending to get up without disturbing him. As much as the idea of sleeping again was tempting, he judged it was time to return to Nostrad's hotel. He had to do something about this hangover and his grumbling stomach, too.

He moved his heavy limbs and held back a wince that almost escaped his lips. This bastard had indiscriminately had his way with him and hadn't hold back just because Kurapika had assured him he could handle it just fine. Really, couldn't he do things in moderation?

Moving was proven harder to do as his joints creaked with every movement he made. Somehow, Kurapika managed to sit on the mattress without dipping on the cushion too much. He stole a quick look at Kuroro and was relieved that he was still asleep. He carefully got on his feet and breathed deeply in relief; his knees weren't wobbly unlike that time. He walked forward, intending to go to the bathroom, when he stepped on a piece of garment—and as ridiculous as it was, slipped on it.

"Ah—!" he silently gasped and braced his other leg to prevent falling down further when in a blink of an eye, a figure popped next to him, arms swiftly wrapped around him as if saving him from the fall. Kurapika lost balance altogether, and they both landed ungracefully on the floor.

"Ow," he whimpered under his breath, though it wasn't that painful for ... Kurapika looked up and saw the man holding him in his arms with his Skill Book disappearing in his right hand... Kuroro had taken the impact.

Their eyes met and in that brief locking of their gazes, something flashed in those callous, dark orbs. He swore he heard him curse 'Damn' under his breath. Kurapika could be mistaken, but Kuroro was… shaken for a short moment.

"Are you alright?" Kurapika felt his skin crawl at the question thrown his way. This wasn't something Kuroro would ask straight to his face, and in a hasty tone at that. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

"I'm... fine," he peered right back at those inquisitive eyes, knowing that should he look away, Kuroro would assume that he was lying.

"I've gone way too far again last night, huh," Kuroro's face was free from emotion, but his eyes spoke of what Kurapika could guess as... remorse.

"Good. At least you know," Kurapika had to avert his eyes, feeling his face blushing for no apparent reason.

Kuroro moved up with Kurapika still in his arms. Kurapika thought of detaching himself from him but judging the way those arms fastened around him, Kuroro wouldn't allow him. He led him to the bed and had him sat back on it, Kurapika idly wondering why he was letting the bastard maneuver him, and was astounded when Kuroro knelt in front of him on one knee, both arms on his sides and resting on the mattress, meeting his eyes straight on.

"Are you sure? I bet your head hurts like hell by now. I was sure you'll have hangover this morning so I bought some cola last night. That should help. Or do you rather have black coffee?"

"... I see. I'll get myself some later, maybe," Kurapika conceded, overwhelmed by this display of concern. In an attempt to change the topic, he pointed out: "A-Anyway, put on some pants."

That turned out to be digging his own grave. "What? It's not like you haven't seen it up close and personal—"

Before Kurapika could stop himself, he shoved his hand to Kuroro's face and covered that loud mouth with his palm, squishing his nose upward as he did so.

"For the sake of my remaining sanity," flustered in anger and embarrassment, Kurapika glowered. "Don't remind me that. Please."

The bastard smiled against his hand, grin broad and quivering. "M'kay," he conceded in a muffled voice.

Kurapika sharply looked away as Kuroro stood up and did what he was told, proudly showcasing his nakedness. Kurapika saw him go to the closet in his peripheral vision, and only as he put on a black boxers did he push himself up the bed again, aiming for the restroom.

"You sure you can go in there on your own?" For the third time, Kuroro confirmed his well-being, but now in a taunting tone.

"I sure as hell can," Kurapika snapped, eyes ahead to the bathroom's door, wanting to get away from that intense stare he could feel boring holes in his back.

Cheeks faintly blushing with his head hung low, Kurapika closed the door and leaned against it, his heart thumping in an unpleasant beat.

Kuroro's odd behavior was unnervingly disarming, but he could somehow understand why he was acting that way. Moreover, that sudden use of his teleportation skill just to catch him from the fall, and that concerned and dreadful look in his eyes when their gazes had met spoke volumes about what was going through his mind. In that moment, Kurapika could feel that Kuroro was... afraid that he might have done the same mistake, him going overboard again. Well, he technically did, but Kurapika thought it shouldn't matter because it was something to be expected, given that long abstinence they had. He even got carried away himself so it wasn't something Kuroro should feel bad or guilty about, if that was the case.

Kurapika collected himself and faced the mirror by the sink, staring back at his half-naked reflection.

Flushed cheeks, hair sticking everywhere, and thin lines under his eyes. He looked like someone who had a very busy sexy time all night long.

Except that his chest and neck were spotless. He somewhat expected to wake up with a number of hickeys decorating his body from how greedily the bastard would have had tasted every inch of his skin the previous night, but to his relief, even as he removed his shirt to inspect his back, he was free from any nasty bite or love marks.

At ease that he didn't need to hide any evidence Kuroro left on his body (save for his aching hips), he sipped some water from the faucet and readied for a refreshing bath.

He took his time, scrubbing himself thoroughly and letting the warm water from the shower wash away his frazzled nerves and the sticky feeling, along with Kuroro's scent all over him. Once cleaned and freshened up, Kurapika stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a slight dread about things being awkward again between him and Kuroro only to see the room empty. His clothes, along with the suit he remembered stripping on the living room, were neatly piled on the bed. There was a fresh, clean white shirt included to replace the soiled one he wore all throughout the night. Kurapika was starting to presume that Kuroro had a set of clothes or two for him hidden somewhere since this wasn't the first time he lent one.

He tucked the absurd idea and the thought of verifying this from the man himself at the back of his mind and put the clothes on. The bath helped with his hangover, so did to his exhaustion. In fact, he felt...

Kurapika paid the bathroom another visit to take a look at the mirror and was dumbstruck with how... fine he looked. His cheeks remained a bit pinkish, red lips wet and a little swollen, eyes clear and not hooded despite how sleepy he still was. He never looked like that before whenever doing the deed with Kuroro. Was this...

'After-sex glow?' Kurapika mentally clamped a hand over his mouth, having such a suggestion crossing his mind. Maybe it was just the bath. It definitely should be just the bath.

Embarrassed at his own train of thoughts, he returned to the room and quickly combed his hair before going out, intending to leave when he caught sight of Kuroro sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter. He was sipping on a piping hot mug of coffee, and there was another mug on the counter, a can of cola next to it.

Their eyes met and locked, and for some freakish reason Kurapika felt like joining him over there. Right, he did say he would help himself with some coffee for his hangover, but he didn't ask Kuroro to brew a mug full for him.

His brain said 'Just leave the hell out of here,' but he was reminded of their conversation the night prior. He was supposed to cooperate and even promised to be less of a brat, and Kurapika was a man of his words so despite the reluctance surging through him, he ambled to the counter and sat on another stool, across Kuroro. He made a show of checking his phone for time.

"Here, while it's hot," Kuroro pushed the mug closer to him. Kurapika pocketed his phone and wordlessly reached for the mug, taking a discreet sniff of its aroma before giving it a careful sip.

It was good, just the right mix for his taste. It was strong but there was a hint of sugar. It soothed his now less throbbing head and empty stomach.

"The cola works faster, but coffee is just as fine. Here," next, Kuroro placed the notepad with their contract revision on it. Flashes of memories popped in his head. 'You look like a waiter taking my order.' He could feel himself blush to the tips of his ears, but kept a stoic face. Silly. He never thought he could be that terribly silly when drunk. He swore he wouldn't drink liquor ever again. "You may want to review it first before I go for the final format."

Keeping his mouth shut, he put the mug back on the counter and perused the notepad, running his eyes on each sentence all the while remembering the words he uttered, face wet with tears, upon reading the last condition he dictated to Kuroro.

"... Not bad," so far, it was well-written. Kuroro went for formal words. He also hadn't found any holes on the renewed terms. "This will do for the meantime." He returned the note.

"Alright," Kuroro set the notepad aside and had a mouthful of his coffee. "Next is... Dmitri. I will be purchasing the eyes from him for you. How should we do it?"

"I'm planning to buy each pair one by one every month as to avoid suspicion on where I get the instant money to purchase them. Wire the amount to my account on the last day of the next four months, and I will do the rest. I'll have the eyes delivered to you once the payment is made. I want them to be delivered in different addresses each time, so arrange suitable vaults and meet up places to accept them."

"Why not just accept them directly?" Kuroro asked.

"No. As much as I want that, I know damn well that you won't like it, thinking that I will run away with the eyes without doing my part of the exchange. We don't trust each other after all, so this is the logical action."

"Okay," Kuroro agreed with a nod. "How about when and where we're going to see each other again?"

"That's tentative. I won't be sure of my availability until we establish Nostrad's headquarters. But that shouldn't take more than a month. I'll just update you. I'll contact and answer you back for sure this time," Kurapika indirectly promised, recalling what happened the last time he ignored Kuroro's messages. "Don't call. A text will do. Limit it to once a week if you can't really control yourself."

"Roger that," Kuroro gave another easy-going reply.

"... I might be sent to different places, though. I'm not sure what to do about that for now."

"I'll just follow you."

"Huh?"

"Not stalking—I will go after you if you allow it. I don't mind going places; I wander around aimlessly from time to time. I'll ask for permission beforehand, so you don't need to fret about me tailing you during work. But don't make me wait for so long; I tend to get antsy about that."

"I thought I'm allowed to turn you down if I want to?"

"Turning me down and not putting me into the to-do list are two different things. If you say no this time because of some urgent reason, I trust that you'll try to find a chance some other time. Purposely postponing it is another thing, no different from trying to piss me off. I'm sure you can find time no matter how busy you are. Eight hours are but a few minutes of the day, after all."

"Fine, I get it," Kurapika understood where he was coming. If he was that willing to go the extra mile and throw some more money just to get his hands on him, that was his choice.

Kurapika was too occupied with their conversation with plans forming in his mind that he belatedly realized that he had emptied his mug. He eyed it, thinking that this was the first time they had a calm talk, and over good coffee at that.

Guess it was time to get going.

"I have to go," he dismissively said, getting on his feet. "... Thanks for the drink," he hurriedly added after having a bit of a debate whether to say thanks or not in his mind. He walked to the door.

"No problem," Kuroro replied with a hint of carefree smile on his lips. "See you soon."

Kurapika stopped on his track, spared Kuroro a quick glance, and absently gave a curt nod. He left the condo unit in a frantic pace, cheeks flushed red but feeling much better than he had ever been since he began this whole ordeal with Kuroro Lucifer.

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Kuroro's gaze remained lingering on the door where Kurapika disappeared.

Once alone, he let out a breath he didn't remember holding. He ran a hand over his head, ignoring his own throbbing hangover.

This was bad.

He wasn't supposed to be relieved upon confirming that Kurapika was fine now and back to his usual self. Alright, this shouldn't be something to make a big deal out of, but this... weird skipping of his heartbeat at the sight of those eyes in their normal hue staring back at him, free from fear and hesitance, was uncalled for. Kurapika's unflinching and dauntless gaze, albeit embarrassed and annoyed, shouldn't wash away this... this something heavy in him that had been bearing down on him for days. He didn't understand why, didn't really get where this was coming from. But he couldn't deny the truth to himself—that he was glad that Kurapika was now okay.

Kuroro thought back to the moment when Kurapika had raised from the bed. At that moment, his chest tightened and he swiftly summoned his Skill Book to teleport and catch Kurapika as he was about to trip; he had just woken up when the boy had sat on the bed and he had silently watched him get on his feet, when his sluggish movements had reminded him of that night when he senselessly violated him. The memory of Kurapika wincing in pain, knees folded uncomfortably on the cold floor on that very same room left indescribable agitation in him, so he would make sure that should the boy fall down again, he would catch him this time around.

He dreaded to see his slumped shoulders again. He was scared of him not meeting his eyes again—then instead became electrified when those clear and calm orbs peered back at him. So it wasn't like that night. Kuroro was guilty for letting himself lose control again the previous night, but was glad that it wasn't the same as that disastrous night at Meniandro's.

His eyes fell on the mug that Kurapika emptied, and he took another sip of coffee from his own. It was a dangerous water he was testing. He was proficient and confident with handling his emotions and thoughts most of the time, but these past few days it appeared that he, at times, lost control over them, particularly when it came down to the boy, and that wasn't a good sign. Not that he was swaying off the track and losing sight of what must be done; he still needed to kill Kurapika, and it always would be, and surely he could cut off all emotions and bond they had when that time would come. But for Kurapika to shake his momentum and draw out these changes in him was alarming.

A sudden urgency to severe the ties with Kurapika occurred in him. When he made his coffee, a casual thought of lacing it with poison crossed his mind, but a part of him vehemently rejected the idea in an instant. He even felt an abrupt irritation with himself for having such a ridiculous idea to begin with. He didn't get this far just to end it all so unceremoniously, did he? He even doubted if Kurapika would accept the drinks at all, for sure he would assume that Kuroro would try to pull that kind of trick.

He was caught off-guard when Kurapika drank all of the coffee, taking it instead of the cola which was sealed and harder to tamper.

Either because his guard was down due to exhaustion and hangover, or because he had just been careless for that moment, Kurapika had forgotten about his wariness and let himself wide open. Kuroro was certain that there was a thin thread of trust once again forming between them, and it would be an utter waste to be strained again."

It was something he would never be able to regain a third time.

He would still kill him, but it didn't have to be now, and in a betraying method like that.

The image of Kurapika collapsing on the floor, convulsing and coughing blood should he have taken the supposedly lethal coffee sent a nasty, foreboding chill down his spine.

No. He wouldn't do something as pathetic and cowardly as that.

Kurapika had toughened up, and he had gained Kuroro's admiration. For that, he would face him head on; Kurapika would still die by his hands someday, but Kuroro would give him an honorable death that he deserved.

Things were bound to change between the two of them from now on, and Kuroro thoughts he should begin keeping himself in check starting today.

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P.S.: In contrary with my sudden diligence in updating this fic, I'm suffering from my worst case of writer's block now. Funnily, I don't know what causes it: busy at work as I may be, I considerably have time to write—I just CAN'T. Originally, I planned to end this chapter with an announcement of indefinite hiatus (and just when things are getting good, heck!?), but after receiving your lovely and earnest comments (that I can't bring myself to reply because I'm busy and doesn't have the energy to answer one by one so I'm sorry for that but rest assured, I read them all), I changed my mind. Y'know, this is a crucial part; for so long I've been imagining going this far and finally after 100k words, I got to the part where 'it's not all about sex anymore, yay!' but upon realizing that I indeed survived this development, fear and uncertainty suddenly came crashing down my feet. What's next? How shall I proceed with the next arc? Now that there's a budding 'something' between them, what if I messed up their characterization just to build up and justify that 'something?' I have the next arc in my mind, but I can't execute it properly, and it's not even my grammar that hinders me; it's my heart. I feel as if my long-lasting love for this pair is slowly fading away, and even the return of my most favorite KK fanfic writer didn't cure it.

What changed my mind is... because I don't want to give up this fandom. I feel that if I give this one up, I'll surrender writing altogether. That will be my end, and I'm not that suicidal. I don't want to let down the readers, both the old and new ones. For those who left those long reviews cheering me up, thank you. They helped me out. I wish that even if I don't reply, please keep them coming. Nothing strengthens me like them. I'll try my hardest to start working on the next chapter. This one may take time, but I'd rather have you wait than serve a half-baked chapter.

Oh, and btw. I wrote an 'extra' bed scene—one of those 2 other rounds I mentioned, to test if my writing skills had rusted (IT HAD NOT), but after discussing it with my beta, I decided not to add it because I don't want to saturate this arc with smut scenes. That means I have one 1,500+ words of juicy chapter hiding in my phone to keep all for myself~. ;P

Til next time!