Killua kissed Kurapika.

A soft mouth melted into his own. The darkness he met as he closed his eyes was rich with the scent of vanilla and the taste of roses, a deadly concoction of sweetness masked by the thorns that had become entangled in Kurapika's life.

It was nothing more than a peck on the lips, nothing more than two seconds out of the twisted misery that was Killua's life. Even so, when he pulled away, it felt as though an eternity had passed.

And Kurapika fixed him with wide eyes, so uncharacteristically caught off guard. "Killua . . ." His raspy voice came to a halt, his gaze unwavering, as though hoping he would find an explanation somewhere in Killua's face.

But he certainly wouldn't find one. For even Killua didn't understand for the life of him what he had just done.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Kurapika opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, his cell phone chimed.

"I have to take Woble back to the palace now." He paused, opened his mouth, and closed it again before standing up to wake Woble.

…

Kurapika didn't know what to think or feel as he drove to the palace. He vaguely registered Woble's grumpy expression and lack of chatter in the back seat, which was the way she usually behaved after waking up from a nap.

She made no effort to get out of her car seat once they arrived at the palace. He sighed, picking her up and walking with her across the grounds. Soon, the garden came into view, lush green grass and flowers in every color blooming.

Kurapika entered the garden with her, finally setting her down. She crossed her arms and looked the other way, and he knew something else must be going on if even visiting the garden had failed to cheer her up.

"Are you upset about something, Woble?"

She pressed her lips together tightly, forming a tiny pout, still refusing to look his way. He would have found it comical, were it not for her next words. "I like Killua. He can't like you, too!"

Kurapika felt the color draining out of his face. He looked around, not seeing anyone else in sight, and kneeled down to meet her at eye level. "What do you mean?" Oh, but he knew perfectly well what must have happened.

"He kissed you! I saw!" she mumbled indignantly, confirming his suspicion.

"Listen to me." Kurapika had never spoken to her so sharply before. Woble blinked immediately, her expression going from frustrated to serious in a split second. "It was a joke. Killua didn't mean it." When she gave him a dubious look, he continued. "But you can't tell anyone. You have to promise me."

"Mama says keeping secrets is bad." Such a matter-of-fact tone, such innocent words. To think that this small child, whom Kurapika had dedicated years of his life to protecting, might very well be Killua's undoing . . .

Kurapika would do anything to prevent that. Anything. "I said, you cannot tell anyone." His firm tone put an end to any protests that might have otherwise arisen. He then made an effort to soften his voice somewhat. "If you do, Aniki might find out. Do you understand?" It took everything for his voice not to tremble as the possibility entered his mind.

Woble stared at him, contemplating something.

"What is it, Woble?"

"If Aniki finds out, will he be mean to Killua?"

Kurapika could have laughed. What an understatement. "Yes. He would be mean to him."

"Why?" she asked, looking up at him with a concerned blue gaze.

Hating himself for it, he gave the answer that would best keep her protected in this cold, cruel kingdom. "Because boys aren't supposed to like other boys."

…

When Kurapika returned, Killua immediately stood up from the sofa and walked over to him.

He was such an idiot. That was the conclusion he had come to after spending the past few minutes turning the kiss over and over in his mind.

But it was Kurapika who spoke first. "You don't need to apologize." It was honestly scary the way that he could read Killua's mind.

Killua had nothing to say to that. He averted his gaze.

"I didn't know you felt that way about me," Kurapika said quietly.

Killua bit his lip, feeling his face turn red. "You're straight, aren't you?"

Kurapika grimaced slightly. "To tell you the truth, I've been starting to suspect otherwise."

Killua's heart skipped a beat. A silence washed over the tight hallway. "I don't know why I did it."

He couldn't decipher the expression on Kurapika's face, which was now cast in shadows as nightfall set in. "I was surprised. I've never had any feelings for you . . ."

Killua's mouth was set in a tight line as he kept his head down in shame.

"Until now."

Killua looked up immediately.

But he was given no further explanations before Kurapika pressed his forehead against Killua's. "Tell me something, Killua." Kurapika's voice was low, giving away nothing of what he was thinking or feeling. His lips were only a breath away from Killua's own. "If you could have anything right now, what would it be?"

Killua blinked several times, his head swirling. What . . . what was happening? His heart thumped wildly, and his breathing quickened. "I don't know."

"Of course you know. You want to find hope in the despair." Kurapika gingerly placed his hands on either side of Killua's face.

"What about you?" Killua said, nearly whispering. "What do you want right now?"

That was when Kurapika leaned in and bridged the gap between their lips.

But this kiss wasn't like the cautious, tender ones Killua was used to giving. Killua parted his lips, and Kurapika thrust his tongue against Killua's, a hand entwining itself in his hair.

After some time, Kurapika pulled back, breathing heavily, his sun-colored tresses framing the angles of his heart-shaped face.

But Killua wasn't finished yet. Before he knew it, he had Kurapika pressed up against the wall, and he was pressing kisses all along his jawline, his neck, his collarbone. His body reacted with pleasure when Kurapika's panting breaths reached his ears.

Killua and Kurapika's eyes met at the same time. He read a question in Kurapika's dark eyes, eyes that were lit up with the kind of spark that could ignite flames and erase tragedies.

Killua had an answer waiting for him. "Now isn't the right time."

Killua turned the lights on, flooding the hallway with light. Kurapika's cheeks were flushed a dark pink, complementing his blond locks.

Killua knew that Kurapika knew better than to ask why. After all, Kurapika had always been a step ahead of him, guessing all of his secrets before Killua was aware that he had any to keep.