The Coast is Always Changing: Hurrah, I have joined the masses in writing Killua/Gon, though this could definitely be taken as a general story without much romantic intrusion. Concrit loved, as always.
Two boys walked down the dusty sidewalk of a tourist town where everything was made of brilliant glass or collapsible plastic, and smelled of sunscreen and oily food. The two boys, respectively, were Gon Freecs and Killua Zaoldyeck, capable hunters of considerable talent. The town was a mere obstacle inbetween their starting point and desired destination, yet something within the town appealed to Gon Freecs so much that he asked his friend if they could spend the night.
"Instinct," he replied, when Killua questioned him.
In a matter of minutes, the two of them found an average hotel (complete with rattling fans and dripping window-mounted air conditioners) where they could lodge. It wasn't necessary for them to ride the elevator up to their room, their belongings few and light-weight, but they went ahead up anyway. Killua fumbled with the awkward three-lock key for a moment, but as soon as the lock clicked and and the heavy door with peeling white paint pushed open, a fantastic ocean breeze rushed past the stiff curtains to ruffle their hair. Killua was struck still with quiet awe for a brief moment while Gon laughed and ran around him to jump on the wheezing bed. As the force of his weight rebounded and propelled him upwards from the bed, thin blue sheets rising around him like waves, Gon said, "See? Follow your instinct."
At that, Killua was tempted to mention that his viper nest of a family could hardly have passed him down the kind of instincts normal well-adjusted members of society have, but through experience, meaning having had asked Gon this once already, the dark-haired boy had merely replied, "That's upbringing, not instinct."
Gon's profile of looking through rows of seashells and other tourist artifacts brought a subtle glow to Killua's cheeks. He himself was rifling through the glossy magazines near the refrigerator plastered with advertisements, wondering what Gon was searching for in those small seas of hardened calcium. This process was interrupted by the disgruntled murmur of the shop keeper, telling Killua to move out of the way for another customer to paw through the magazines. Killua rolled his eyes and moved to walk to where Gon was. Just as he could see over Gon's shoulder, Killua noticed that through a careless shrug of Gon's arm (placing a fragile crab skeleton back on the shelf), a thin sliver of white skin was exposed above his shoulder where the sun failed to tan and Gon's shirt protected constantly. The glow in his cheeks deepened to a pink flush while Killua simply reached out and yanked Gon's shirt back into place. When Gon whirled around, bewildered at such a sudden action, Killua smiled crookedly and put his hands back behind his back. He asked Gon if he was almost done, and if they could go get something chilled and sweet afterwards. Gon nodded in reply as he took two shell bracelets off the shelf and walked towards the cashier to pay for them. As they left the store, Gon reached for Killua's arm and held his wrist to tie the bracelet around it. He then took Killua's hand in his, smiling broadly, and began to walk ahead, pulling Killua along with him. Gon's palm was warm and pressed with many lines and hard calluses from brutal training. Whenever he was allowed the chance to hold Gon's hand like this, Killua felt a deep sense of security in his heart that comes from loving and being loved in return. The simply honesty that Gon practically radiated was the thing Killua admired most about his friend.
That night, suffocated by the unbearable humidity and hounded by a heavy silence, Killua turned in his bed to face the window. With the sheets wrapped around between his legs and thrown off his arms and chest, he faced the white moon whose brilliance was masked by the closed gauzy curtains. Though he felt that he should really get to sleep soon, as he and Gon were to set out early the next day, his mind felt clear and sharp and capable of any mental exertion should they come his way. His ears perked up to the sound of Gon's quiet breathing in the bed next to his. Curious, he rolled over to see whether Gon was sleeping or suffering from insomnia as he was. The former turned out to be true. Gon had his arms wrapped tightly around his pillow, his head resting on the mattress in a way that exposed his neck, the blankets thrown off and spilled over the edge of the bed to pool in a wrinkled puddle below.
Looking at Gon in this way wasn't much different from looking upon him when he was awake. Killua knew the cliche was that when sleeping, people tend to expose a gentler, more innocent side of them they jealously guard when they're awake. But with Gon, it didn't matter whether he was asleep or not, either way, he was always very earnest and upfront about his feelings and what he thinks of others. With Gon, it was like there was no reason for him to put up a screen of various facades in order to cover up an insecurity many feel when they can't accept who they are. But it wasn't as if Gon was perfect. In fact, even if he were never to become perfect, that didn't matter, as Gon loved and respected himself as he was. That kind of confidence and clarity Gon held towards himself held Killua in awed sense of disbelief. Even now, watching over Gon as he slept, Killua could not begin to even imagine that he himself could ever become like that. In a way, Gon was a sort of concept that Killua was just beginning to grasp.
Killua couldn't help but think that if Gon ever did, finally, come face to face with his father, it'd resemble more the scenario of a disciple coming face to face with their respective savior than an actual father-son meeting. Gin Freecs was a man more than a father to Gon. His existence was the culmination of everything Gon desired to be, everything Gon fought for in an unusually devoted fervor. That Gon so wanted to have them meet his father together inspired a heart-breaking joy that Killua couldn't have ever imagined feeling. That happiness, no matter whether if it was capable of standing up to the trials of time, enveloped Killua in such a warmth that made him wonder if he really deserves to be by Gon's side as he was.
Illumi had once told Killua that it was impossible for him ever to leave his former life, that the thick blood of family ties and lineage overrode the feeble bonds of friendship. The only pleasure you are capable of feeling, Illumi went on, is the satisfaction you get knowing you are stronger than others, the power you feel when you are capable of ending peoples' lives at any moment. Illumi's blank, staring eyes were more than eager to latch onto any insecurity Killua felt towards his relationship with Gon. The fact was that because Illumi's eyes were so cold and empty, they could be mistaken for being impartial, which was the last thing Illumi was with matters reguarding Killua.
An old memory haunted Killua sometimes when he found himself unable to sleep late at nights like these. At his old home he remembered sleeping uneasily in his bed, drifting in and out of dreams and waking. Suddenly, a slow sliver of yellow light stretched lazily towards the foot of his bed from the door being opened barely a crack. The light was blocked by Illumi's dark silhouette entering Killua's room, but then was reasserted by Illumi walking slowly towards Killua's bed. Killua found himself wide-awake and alert, his heart beating rapidly, wondering frantically why his older brother was simply standing over him like that. When Illumi's cold fingers brushed the tender arteries of Killua's neck, Killua felt as if his blood was replaced with ice water, that the terrifying shock of it would pull his soul from his body. At that moment, Killua knew that he was barely skirting the borderline between life and death. If it weren't for his grandfather Zeno taking that specific hallway to walk towards the kitchen, therefore passing by Killua's room, Killua's life would have ended back then. Illumi's thin hands would have easily contorted and disfigured themselves into powerful claws to tear the life away from Killua's body. It wasn't that Illumi had intended to kill Killua because he hated his younger brother, rather it was because Illumi held such an obsessive and draining love towards Killua that he would have killed him in order to preserve that love.
The very next day, Killua beat up his other older brother Milluki, slashed the face of his mother to ribbons and ran away to take the Hunter exam. When he met Gon, it was like walking steadily away from a nightmare that he had already resigned himself to wasting away within. When he ran away, he didn't dare think that his life had even a slight possibility of improving or expect anything to change, much less for the better.
Looking upon Gon like this now, sleeping soundlessly and peacefully, Killua felt a cold sheet of sweat begin to exude itself from his skin. Being loved so excessively by his older brother Illumi warped his senses about how he should love others. Killua felt his hands shifting and reforming themselves slowly against his conscious will into claws like the ones Illumi almost slit his throat with. Silently, Killua bit his lip and forced his hands to remain by his side through sheer force of the discipline that came with the rigorous training he and Gon constantly take part in. Despite the drastic surges in Killua's nen, Gon remained still.
After some time, the violent urges faded away and Killua was able to lay his hands in front of him to rest his chin upon. He felt hollow, unexplainably sad towards the only ways he knew how to love. If worst should ever come to worst, he knew that Gon would be able to defend himself against Killua, yet he couldn't stand even thinking of Gon's reaction to such a betrayal of trust. Gon understood that the circumstances of Killua's upbringing would inevitably control his behaviour once in awhile, but at the same time he truly believed in Killua's real heart to shine through and overcome these difficulties. Breaking that sort of unspoken promise between him and Gon would be more than Killua could bear.
"Killua."
Gon's clear voice resonated throughout the room like a small chime. Killua propped himself up on the bed quickly, wondering how long Gon had been awake. Gon's dark eyes gazed quietly at Killua for a moment, seemingly making no judgements towards him or acknowledging any visual observations. Then purposefully, he raised his hand to reach over the gap between their beds to offer it to Killua, all the while still staring blankly towards him.
Hesitantly, Killua awkwardly leaned towards Gon to take his hand. The sensation of their warm palms touching and fingers entertwined around each other alleviated Killua's doubt and self-loathing, replacing it with a gentle warmth that moved Killua to the point where he felt as if he could cry.
He could never force Gon to stay with him by taking his life, nor hope to change himself so radically that he could forget his heavy past. But as long as he was made an effort to become the best person he could possibly be for Gon, Killua affirmed within his heart that that would be enough.
HxH copyright Togashi and all respected owners.