Chapter 4


If there was one thing that was true about Kurapika, it was that he never did anything halfway. This kind of conviction was going to be the death of him—he was going to meet this man if it was the last thing he did.

It was just one evening and Kurapika didn't necessarily have to see him again after this. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but a part of him was scared that this date might not be so bad after all.

After careful deliberation, Kurapika decided to pair a white v-neck with a simple black blazer, dark slacks with brown oxfords, in a way that looked simple yet effortless. His clothing suited him in just the right places, from emphasizing his collarbones to fitting well along his waist and the sides of his hips. It was suitable dress for an upscale restaurant and didn't look like he was trying too hard to impress.

The restaurant was a twenty-minute taxi ride from his apartment, and though Kuroro had offered to pick him up, he politely declined. It was located atop of one of the tallest buildings in Yorknew, and if he didn't have a fear of heights before, he did now. He would have never stepped foot in a place like this if it weren't for Kuroro.

When the elevator doors parted, Kurapika tried to prevent his uneasiness from showing on his face. Surely this wasn't a place for a normal college student, with influential people around him engaged in business conversations and dressed in formal attire. But it could have been much worse, like some secluded or nameless location that suggested Kuroro was actually a serial killer who had a penchant for blond boys. Not a good time to have those kind of thoughts.

They were planning to meet here in the lobby, and of course, Kurapika was earlier than expected. That gave him time to pull himself together, or so he thought.

He didn't have a chance to even check his phone before his name was called.

"You must be Kurapika."

Someone call a doctor because right there and then, Kurapika thought that his heart would stop beating. He immediately turned around at the sound of his voice, and tried not to look impressed.

Kurapika was staring, he knew he was, because Kuroro's photos did not do him any justice at all. Kuroro was undeniably more attractive in person, and this wasn't the first time that Kurapika thought that he must have some kind of alter ego as a model or celebrity.

Kuroro was slightly taller than him, with features that were delicate yet sharp at the edges. His hair fell across his bandaged forehead and he was still wearing those strange earrings, but he was in a dark suit that matched the shade of his hair. He looked really, really good in that suit, and Kurapika's cheeks were becoming flushed at how he already knew what his body looked like underneath those clothes.

"Did you wait long?" Kuroro asked after Kurapika apparently forgot how to respond. He tilted his head curiously, an amused smile on his lips.

"I just arrived," Kurapika managed to say. His voice came out quieter than he would have liked, but at least he remembered how to speak properly. "It's nice to see you."

"Thanks for coming to meet me." Kuroro leaned closer to pull him into a polite hug. Kurapika stood straight, almost rigid, before his posture eased slowly. As he moved back, the smile on Kuroro's face was so warm that it made Kurapika flush deeper. "You look stunning, Kurapika."

"Oh. You too?"

Kurapika inwardly swore at how noncommittal he sounded. He wasn't used to compliments, and though he had heard better, the fact that it came from Kuroro made him feel all sorts of unexpected things.

Kuroro didn't seem bothered by his awkwardness. "Shall we?"

It was too smooth for Kurapika's heart to accommodate. There was no way anyone in their right mind could refuse.

"Let's go." Kurapika wore a small smile of his own and followed him into the reception area.

After Kuroro confirmed their reservation with the attendant, one of the waitresses escorted them inside. To see photos online was one thing, but to actually walk in this space was something else entirely. There were no expenses spared, stretching the boundaries of what Kurapika could pay, as the tables were intricately decorated with floral centerpieces and candles, and the lighting from the chandeliers above lent an ethereal aspect to the atmosphere. It was downright a scene from a romance movie, and his nerves were returning at the fineness of their surroundings. Then again, it was not him who decided the location.

They were led to a quiet space adjacent to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and Kuroro wasn't kidding about the view. Beyond and below them, Yorknew stretched as far as the eye could see, and the night sky did nothing to soften the harsh beauty of the city. Kuroro held out his chair for him, and he took the seat with a murmur of thanks.

Kuroro seated himself across from him. "Have you been here before?"

Kurapika shook his head. He basked in the absurdity of it all—dining in such a fine establishment, in the presence of someone whose existence he had only processed behind a phone screen. He was too aware now, what it looked like for them to be together. Not even in a romantic way, but together in the way that they were associated with each other, as if the waitress could glance at their clothing and decide they were from the same walk of life when they were anything but.

"It's nice up here." Kuroro had a thoughtful look on his face as he stared out the window. Kurapika could trace how the candlelight played softly across his skin, how it bathed him in a warm glow and brightened the ends of his hair to a light brown and—oh, he was staring again. "This exact view provided inspiration for the requiem scene."

"Wow. That's a morbid way to start the night," Kurapika deadpanned, and Kuroro huffed out a soft laugh. He had nearly forgotten why he agreed to meet Kuroro in the first place.

The juxtaposition of a massacre with the vibrant city below was unsettling—but to admire and experience places not for what they actually were, but for what they were in the world of fiction was undeniably interesting. "I've visited locations featured in movies and novels in the past, but I would have never expected that K. L. would take inspiration from somewhere so close to us."

"I thought you might like it." Kuroro met his gaze with such an earnest look that it made his heart race a little faster. "But if I had to be honest, this was an excuse to meet you."

It didn't come as any surprise to Kurapika, and his uneasiness finally melted into a fit of soft laughter. "I wanted to meet you too, and not just because of K. L."

He took note at how Kuroro's expression brightened at that. "I'm glad. It's my treat tonight, so order whatever you'd like."

He glanced at the menu for the first time—Leorio would probably have the time of his life if he were here instead. Just a few courses were equivalent to his rent. While he would have liked to play it safe and order the most inexpensive course, he barely recognized the ones listed.

"How were you able to get a reservation so soon?"

"A close friend of mine owns the place." The fact that Kuroro didn't even need to look at the menu meant that he was a frequent guest. "I may have mentioned Nobunaga before?"

"The chef with the temper?"

There was that amused smile again. "He can be quite pleasant when he wants to be. I can introduce him to you later if you'd like."

"Mmm," Kurapika offered in thought. Meeting Kuroro's friend when he was just getting to know Kuroro himself didn't seem like a good idea.

Kuroro was more than happy to order for him when he couldn't decide, listing courses that sounded like they ran for ages with too many unfamiliar words and unnecessary hyphens. Though Kurapika possessed knowledge of several languages, it became increasingly evident that he wasn't as well-traveled as Kuroro. There was the mention of dessert as well—Kuroro was eager to validate there was no other place that served better crème caramel than here.

A bottle of ice wine was delivered by their waitress and he poured Kurapika a full glass, then one for himself. Kurapika couldn't help but think of how troublesome it was to to harvest grapes in sub-zero temperatures just to produce these wines, reminding him of the pretentious things that people were willing to pay for. He took a sip just for appearances, because really, he wasn't a wine person. It was rather sweet on the palate with an unsurpassed smoothness, sliding down his throat like silk. It seemed fitting that Kuroro enjoyed the sugar content, when that was one of the things Kurapika knew about him—but there were so many more things he wanted to know.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Kurapika tried to frame his question with genuine curiosity, because the last thing he wanted was to be mistaken as a gold-digger. He had mentioned everything from owning a company to being a well-known philanthropist as well as a vocal advocate for the arts, but he still didn't quite understand what exactly it was that Kuroro did for a career.

"I do many things, don't I? At the very least, I lead a publishing company." Kuroro paused and for a moment, Kurapika thought that the man across from him was not someone casually enjoying his wine, but someone so much more. He didn't know how to step past the Kuroro that he knew from their messages and embrace how much larger than life he was. "I grew up in a place without too many resources—there was a time when Yorknew was just a distant concept in a novel for me, so making literary works accessible was something that I always strived to do."

Kurapika managed a nod. "You must be a writer yourself."

"Precisely," Kuroro answered. "Being a creator helps me make sense of things I can't make sense of within myself. It's easier when you possess the words to describe each and every little thing."

Fair enough—at least Kuroro sounded like he was using words that belonged to him and not from some script, learned and rehearsed. "So why—why the app?"

"Are you interviewing me, Kurapika?" Kuroro teased, leaning on the table with one hand on the side of his face.

The heat crept onto Kurapika's cheeks again. It was a learned habit from childhood, asking questions like a researcher, aware of the things he wished to know, curious about the things he wished to understand. "That's not it."

Kuroro had a lack of utter shame. "You're adorable when you blush like that."

Kurapika couldn't fight the warmth that spread all the way to the tips of his ears. It was embarrassing, but it was as captivating to be on the other end of Kuroro's attention as it was to be looking at Kuroro himself. He reached for his glass, turning his gaze to his reflection on the wine instead. "I can't fathom why someone like you would be sending strangers such—such suggestive messages."

"Only you," Kuroro said, honest enough. "One of my friends developed the app—Shal had been invested in it ever since we were in university and requested that I test a feature for him. It was only chance that I came across you on there."

"Test?" Kurapika felt cheated, and he wished that he was above being offended by that.

But Kuroro continued, his tone reassuring. "I didn't expect to be interested in anyone, but you defied all expectations."

"Oh," was Kurapika's only reply for a moment. Perhaps it wasn't too absurd to expect to be someone, dare he say it, special for Kuroro—at least just for tonight. He nodded absently and took a long pull of his wine, ignoring the way that Kuroro looked at him.

"You must have many friends," Kurapika commented, taking deliberate care to continue their conversation.

"They're more like family to me." Kuroro's expression gave way to fondness. "Nobunaga and Shal worked for my company before moving onto their own ventures. While I've supported them with their projects, they've always been gifted in their respective ways."

Despite his wealth, there was a certain humility to him that Kurapika appreciated. The waitress had arrived just in time with their main course and Kuroro did him the favor of explaining what the foods were as the plates were set in front of them. They looked rather high brow and if it was appropriate in this situation, he would have snapped a photo and sent it to Leorio.

"Enough about me," Kuroro said with a chuckle. He began to make progress with his meal, and even his table manners were exceptional. "You mentioned that your friend encouraged you to meet me tonight."

Kurapika nodded, mirroring Kuroro's etiquette and taking deliberate care to cut the tenderloin on his plate. It seemed to melt in his mouth. "Said friend is the one who downloaded the app on my behalf in the first place. This is my first time doing this kind of thing, but I'm glad that I went through with it."

He pulled out his phone to show Kuroro a photo of him with Leorio. "He's the guy here." He couldn't recall where this was taken exactly—the scenery seemed to blend together after a while—but it was definitely during one of their first trips together.

"You two look close. Did you ever date him?"

"Absolutely not—" Kurapika made a face and didn't mention how he hadn't even gone out on date prior to meeting Kuroro. "Leorio's my best friend, but he's nowhere close to being my type."

That had Kuroro leaning forward with his arms propped on the table, his eyes dark as he fixated his gaze on Kurapika. "Am I your type?"

It was neither worse nor better than any of the attempts at flirting Kuroro made so far, but the way he was so forward in saying it took Kurapika by surprise.

"I suppose," Kurapika mumbled, trying to be nonchalant but betrayed by the furious blush on his face.

"That's good to know." Kurapika had to admit that he liked the way that Kuroro looked at him, like Kuroro was pleased that he understood him a little bit better. His attention returned to the phone, as the screen lit up with a notification.

"You have a text from Leorio. Looks like he's giving us his blessing."

Kurapika looked at him, unamused. He held out his hand. "Let me reply."

"I can do it," Kuroro suddenly said, and Kurapika wasn't certain if he heard correctly. He was already typing, avoiding Kurapika's hands and protests.

His utensils clinked against the plate as he reached forward. "Give it back."

Kuroro read aloud what he was typing as he was effortlessly moving out of the way. "I am having—the time of—my life with Kuroro—"

"Please don't use one of your weird emoticons."

"—winking emoji."

"You are not texting him that," Kurapika groaned. He didn't know what to do with Kuroro's sudden change in attitude. "It's my phone, let me—Kuroro!"

Kuroro's smile widened into a grin. "You said my name for the first time."

"Yes," Kurapika admitted grudgingly. Kuroro's objective beauty was a fact, but the expression on his face was so bright that it made his chest feel tight. "Now can I have my phone back? Please?"

Kuroro pretended to consider returning it to him. "Wasn't he the one who messaged me, pretending to be you? Consider this to be my revenge of sorts."

"That isn't the same thing." Kurapika folded his arms and his next exhale was exasperated. "You are more childish than I would have expected."

"What do I get from returning this to you?"

Kurapika made a frustrated sound. "I don't know, I'll give you my dessert, or whatever you want."

There was a beat of silence between them, before Kuroro placed the phone back in Kurapika's hands. Surely there was more to it than that. He called over the waitress and requested that dessert be served.

In a matter of moments, the waitress was bringing them their dessert. The pudding had been crafted in the ideal shape, composed of soft custard against sharp caramel. As the plate was set on the table, Kuroro looked at him, expectant.

It took a moment for Kurapika to realize what he wanted.

Despite his obvious embarrassment, Kurapika put the spoon to the dessert, somewhat apologetic about ruining the shape, and guided it to Kuroro's lips. "Here."

Kuroro leaned forward to take Kurapika's wrist in his hand, and took a bite off the spoon, meeting Kurapika's gaze the entire time. Kuroro didn't seem to miss the way Kurapika's gaze traveled to his lips, back to his eyes, and away from Kuroro altogether.

It was downright erotic, and Kurapika swallowed in turn. The moment didn't last long, though.

"Who's this?"

Kurapika wanted to pretend that his heart didn't leap in his chest at the sound of the voice, but it really did. He immediately pulled away from Kuroro and turned to find a stranger standing by their table. His face was unbearably hot, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have, and the man's calculating stare didn't do much to help.

Kuroro perked up. "It's been a while, Nobunaga."

"Thought I'd come by to say hi, but you've never brought a date with you before." Nobunaga arched an eyebrow and put his chin in his hand, as if he was thinking carefully. "Your boyfriend?"

"This is Kurapika, my guest for tonight," Kuroro said with a soft laugh, and there was a warmth to his voice.

Kurapika straightened up and politely shook his hand, not breaking eye contact. There was a strange look on Nobunaga's face, like he had some more questions, but refrained from asking.

"I'm pleased to know that you chose my establishment for your date." Nobunaga's features looked less harsh now. "How's everything to your liking?"

"I've had a great deal of good food in my life," Kurapika said with a polite smile, "but this is definitely a highlight."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He seemed satisfied with Kurapika's answer. "I'd rather not interrupt you any further so let me know if you need anything."

As soon as Nobunaga was finished with his greetings, Kurapika let out a sigh of relief. "I wasn't expecting that. You should finish dessert on your own."

Kuroro was amused more than anything. "Fair enough."

The rest of their dinner was a more relaxed affair, unlike how stiff the atmosphere was earlier. As promised, Kuroro footed the bill. It still didn't sit too well with Kurapika given that he was used to splitting the check with his friends rather being treated.

The elevator ride was longer than he had remembered. Kurapika had expected that this would be their first and last meeting, that having multiple dates wouldn't be necessary at all. But a small part of him didn't want the night to end.

There were still so many things that he didn't know about Kuroro, that he wanted to learn from him. On the other hand, he wasn't certain about what Kuroro wanted to do.

Despite his flirtatious remarks and lewd photos they exchanged in their messages, Kuroro had kept his hands to himself so far. Kuroro didn't touch Kurapika outside of hugging him—Kurapika didn't know what he expected, but there weren't any suggestive touches or even an invite to a hotel room.

Who the hell did he think he was, acting like a perfect gentleman?

As they descended to the first floor, Kurapika didn't know what to make of this. He followed Kuroro out of the sliding doors, into the cool night. He didn't mind walking behind him, when he was able to admire the confidence in which Kuroro walked, his gait commanding attention in a way that said he was used to receiving it. They had fallen into silence, and only the sound of cars rushing past the streets could be heard in the distance.

They lingered by the street, unsure of where to go from here. With all of the bright city lights and neon signs flickering ahead, the night was still young.

"Thanks again for coming to meet me," Kuroro said with a small smile.

Kurapika bit his lip. "It was my pleasure, really. I should be the one thanking you."

This time, Kurapika leaned forward to hug him first, finding that Kuroro was all warmth in the chill of the night. He was pulled closer, and then there was a hand carding through his hair. Kuroro smelled nice, with a light cologne that he had been close enough to notice throughout the night, and suddenly it was all he could think of. It wasn't too overpowering, it was just—present, for Kuroro's scent seemed to carry onto his own clothes.

As he pulled away, Kuroro's hand circled gently around his wrist.

"Kurapika," Kuroro began, still holding Kurapika's wrist in his hand. Much too slow, and even more deliberate, Kuroro's gaze lowered to his lips, down to his neck, before meeting his gaze again. His eyes were so dark, unreadable and searching, yet so earnest at once, and the sight nearly robbed Kurapika of air. "Can I steal you tonight?"

Maybe it was the wine, because Kurapika managed a nod before he even processed what was asked. The way Kuroro phrased the question was so odd, because he would be a terrible thief if he needed to ask permission to steal something.

There was a yearning deep within his chest, to give into the part of him that was entranced by Kuroro, and the realization that he wanted to kiss Kuroro didn't surprise him at all. But he had never kissed someone before, had never been kissed, and had absolutely no idea how to sate this urge.

Even so, Kurapika leaned in first, something that he was nowhere near prepared for. There was a moment of hesitation, but then he had both hands on either side of Kuroro's face, pulling him in with the softest brush of the lips. He stayed like that until Kuroro kissed him back, just as chaste—Kuroro didn't push him further than what he had initiated. A satisfied hum came from him, and he smiled against his lips before pulling back.

Kurapika gave him a soft and gentle smile. "You have my answer."


Notes: Thanks for your patience! This chapter is about the length of the previous three chapters combined since you guys waited for a while.

They are such a dumb couple, I love it. I'm sorry for making Kuroro so obnoxious, but I like writing him a little differently.

K. L. pretty much writes self-insert fic lmao. More about them should be revealed in future chapters, since Kurapika was surprisingly more occupied with Kuroro in this chapter. Additionally, Kurapika noticed how happy Kuroro was when he mentioned how it wasn't all about K. L.

I haven't had the inspiration to write lately, which is why I have not been updating. I did write a kid fic/family AU for kurokura that I hesitate in uploading. If you're interested in reading, let me know and I'll upload it!

If you've read this far, please leave a comment. I'd love to know what you think!

You can also find me on Tumblr at seiyuna.