"And pretended not to know."
Ring, ring!
Leorio flipped over on the too-small mattress on the floor just in time to slap the phone from the kickstand and straight to the cool wood below. His scruffy face moaned into his pillow, a line of drool on his cheek, and he didn't bother opening his eyes as he fumbled around in the direction where the phone ought to have fell.
Ring, ring!
"Yeah, yeah. I get it.. I'm answering.." he mumbled tiredly to nothing in particular, reaching up to rub a bit of dust and grime from his eyes, before he peeked one open and fingered on the beetle phone vibrating insistently on the creaky old floorboards of his studio apartment. But he didn't quite make a move to grab it just yet. His eye soon fell shut right after.
Ring, ring!
"..."
Ring, ring!
"..."
Ring, ring-
"I'M AWAKE." Leorio suddenly shot up, eyes alarmed and big as he frantically looked left and right. He stilled the instant he remembered he must had dozed off a moment, then grabbed at the phone in rough, uncoordinated movements with the poor device bouncing back and forth between each palm, before he finally pressed the button to answer the call.
"Hello, this is-"
"HELLO?" screamed a louder than necessary male voice and Leorio practically fell over from the volume's force, "Excuse me, but is this Leorio Paladiknight? I have been calling and texting him for hours and he isn't answering anything and I'm-"
"THIS IS LEORIO." he answered in a voice even higher pitched than the other guys'. Numbly, as he was lowering the speaker part back to his ear instead of held against the nearby wall, Leorio slunk back under the covers and shut his eyes again. "Who the hell are you to be calling me this damned early in the morning, man? It's-" He spared a quick glance at the florescent clock next to him, "-It's 3 in the morning, ass hole, so this better be good or else."
"You do know that this is Zepile, Leorio, right?"
"Zepile?!" Leorio instantly beamed and grasped the phone in both hands, rolling onto his side to keep it still, "Man, it's been awhile! How have you been?"
"Good, good. I think." Zepile sounded a little off but Leorio wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep kicking in or his own natural instinct buzzing the alarm bells in his head. "Look, I need to talk to you about something."
"At 3 in the morning on a weekday?" He rose a brow at the stack of paperwork and books piled haphazardly across the nearby corner. Leorio made a mental note to tidy it up a little bit in the morning, maybe. "Is it that serious?"
"Yeah. I mean, I suppose it is. I'm just so sorry it took me this long to finally get a hold of you."
"No, no, it's fine, I guess." Leorio grumbled but he was doing his best not to get his pissy emotions have the better of him. He and Zepile had hit it off quite well back in Yorknew and he didn't really want to push a rift between one of the only other his-age male friends he had left, especially living in a life segregated at college and in his studies. And with Gon and Killua off to play Greed Island and Kurapika busying himself with the Nostrade family and those Kurta eyes (and being an insensitive jerk and not answering his damn messages); Leorio was practically alone in this.
If it meant losing a bit of sleep to accommodate a friend, so be it.
"What's up?"
Zepile cleared his throat on the other end and Leorio felt himself draw in a breath and hold it - The reason he was not so sure of. But for whatever reason it was, he did it, as he heard the sour note in Zepile's voice come next and all those fears he'd finally finished burying were resurfacing and coming back to haunt him like his worst nightmares.
"It's about Gon and Killua."
Later on that evening as Killua crawled into the space that was where they slept, he stared at the back of Gon's spiky head of hair where he lay and hummed. He could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, his back moving in sync with each breath, and Killua felt mesmerized in the motion that was utmost peacefulness. Gon looked so at peace with himself, sleeping like a normal human being would, and enjoying the respite it gave.
It wasn't so much the same as it was with Killua unfortunately.
Slinking sideways on quiet tiptoes, he sat up against the stony wall and pulled his legs to his chest. Killua stared at the space between his knees, brow furrowed in a hard line that felt like an ache in his skull. As the icy air from his mouth blew on his kneecaps, he tasted the foul, criminal odor of whiskey on his tongue and cringed. He'd just spent the last hour sneaking away to indulge in his booze-addiction and was downing so many bottles of whiskey that he lost count at about the seventh round.
What Biscuit had said, had warned him over, and chastised him for – It was setting him on a cliff's edge, ready to fall if he even dared move. Forward and back movements counted to his demise.
There was just no way he could come out of this in a win-win compromise. Biscuit knew they were having sex. Gon constantly insisted they have sex. Killua still kept giving in to everybody else and their whims. He wasn't sure what he wanted in this aspect anymore, to be honest.
"Ne, Killua. Do you wanna..?" Gon said, the second time they'd found themselves emotional, depressed, and strangely aroused by these angst feelings and ache in their hearts. Gon was licking the shell of Killua's ear that time, the two of them huddled in a tree from shelter against the harsh wind and rainstorm that was traveling across the plain.
Lightning streaked across the sky and it was Gon this time who was illuminated brighter than a star in the night.
"Tell me you wanna, Killua..?"
And Killua wanted it, then. His answer came obvious and quicker then he expected, but thoughtless all the same when he turned and his mouth claimed Gon's in a kiss. "Yes."
"I wanna do it. Killua." Those words came the third time and it was too late for Killua's body to fight the natural and automatic response it received when burning with testosterone and hormones. Gon was rutting against him, bare and naked and Killua was completely exposed then, open to the world and open to Gon's advances, thighs spread and inviting and he wasn't sure then if he resented his motions or loved it. And he was letting him; but why? "I wanna put it in. Ne, Ne.. Can I? Can I put it in Killua?"
Killua thought it'd be better of himself to hesitate, to contemplate on their decision, laying naked in a bush just outside of another small town. There were people not far from them and their chatter was audible enough to decipher their very own conversations and if they spoke even a tad bit louder they'd be obvious as the blue sky on a sunny day. They'd be discovered. But Gon kept pushing, nudging, and prodding at Killua with his body, his erection, his wordsand Killua found it hard to resist him.
This was Gon. And Killua still couldn't deny him, after all this time.
"Yes."
Killua shivered with his arms wrapped firmly around his calves as a chilly breeze rolled into their small, pathetic sleeping cave, and the icy thoughts that accompanied it. After the third time he found himself submitting to Gon's advances, it had all gone down-hill from there. Not only did he never once deny Gon his satisfaction or plea, but he started initiating some of those advances himself. There were times it was Killua who became demanding, forceful, needy and all the want included and Gon never once rejected him; embracing him with open arms and a sickening smile that seemed like he knew everything that Killua felt behind those words and those fleeting touches. And he was rubbing it in his face, every single time.
Did Gon know Killua once; and even maybe still now, wanted Gon in that way?
He distantly remembered their first kiss - The sloppy way their mouths had met and the messy wetness of their saliva mixing together, their tongues coiling like a pair of dueling snakes and squeezing and how his chest constricted, his throat tightened, and all he was left with was Gon's flavor; his aftertaste, and this unquenchable thirst for more.
Killua loved Gon, then. And Gon had mentioned after their kiss about knowing something. Could he had possibly figured it out? Perhaps that would explain why Gon, now; aside his troubling emotions from withdrawal, was drawn to him.
Was it possible Gon wanted him back then?
No.
Killua bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and the faint metallic tang only made the gross liquor taste in his mouth worsen. There was no way Gon cared for Killua like that. It was strictly a way to cope with his lack of drugs; that was all there was to it. And for awhile he was in the same boat, this knowing truth applied to Killua in his need to deal without his alcohol to keep him company.
They were simply two lonely friends seeking comfort and finding that temporary safe haven in the other boy's arms, seeking rehab in the form of mindless; raw and dispassionate sex.
Never once had either boy confessed their feelings, their love; shed tears or openly cried, let alone hugged or embraced with an ounce of emotion within it.
It was lust, not love in their case.
Alcohol just made it worse. Killua fell back into his bad habits when he discovered how easy and how cheap booze came in Greed Island and it was pathetically simple to obtain, even in the hands of a minor inside a virtual reality such as this. He thought Hunters might have been more strict on things like that but apparently their hard-core drinks weren't one of them.
And a drunk Killua meant an incredibly hormonal-frustrated Killua.
Gon just happened to be the only vent he had left here he could trust to expose and give his body over to, without any consequences. At least, not any consequences thus far.
Biscuit's words were haunting him and he damned as hell wasn't sure exactly why yet. Was it from the way Illumi and his family had instilled fear into him, trained him to always take life cautious and careful with every step you took? Sex was just one thing of many that you had to tread over, glass under your feet threatening to break, and Killua always sought to have his steps resemble as close to silence as plausible, feathery like air. Even now, could he keep going on this thin wire thinking that this silly game would stick his feet in place and allow him to continue onward, safe and free from the burden of the price he's paid.
And still owing for, too.
Killua wouldn't pay back his debt even past death.
Stop thinking about this shit. Change the subject, Killua. Think of something else!
"…."
"Where did Gon get a bunch of women's rings from?"
Rings! Killua snapped his fingers, visibly glowing at the returning subject. He had totally forgotten about those rings Biscuit mentioned before the topic of sex had driven him off course and that was the entire starting point of their unfortunate conversation. Gon had gotten a hold of a bunch of girly rings and pawned them off for Greed Island currency at the shop. For what reason, he did not know, but he did want to figure out where and how Gon got a hold of rings that weren't even a part of the in-game design. So far, they had yet to find a way out of the game, so that ruled out that possibility.
Just when did these rings come into play then?
Stealthy utilizing all his skills of remaining absolutely-silent, Killua scooted forward and picked up Gon's backpack from their nearby pile of stuff. He was careful not to let his own belongings fall and cause any alerting sounds to the overly-sensitive ears of the sleeping Gon Freecs, and set the partly stuffed bag into his lap before he started rummaging through.
Water bottles.
Clothes. Bright green underwear with little fishies on them. Seriously.
Tackles and bait for his weird fishing pole.
Dried sardines. Barf.
More miscellaneous fish stuff. How much stuff of his pertained to fish?!
Snacks – MY CHCOLATE BALLS? –
-More clothes.
Hunter license.
Some old pictures and papers with random unimportant crap written on them.
Empty food wrappers.
Lots of socks.
A letter from Mito-
"A letter from Mito?" Killua mouthed, wordlessly, and pulled out the small envelope slip with 'From Mito' clearly written across it and held it up for closer inspection. The little bit of light filtering in from the moonlight outside their cave was sparse but luckily he had been trained with a gift for night vision, so Killua had it covered enough to read the sloppy hand-writing of Gon even in the dark.
It was already open and the creasing in the paper was evident, mainly along the bottom of the envelope, and Killua felt around the wrinkles there that they were pretty recently pushed back down from whatever way they were pressed out prior. It was hastily ripped open at the top and part of the note inside had been torn on the corner where Gon opened it at. Figures. Gon and his impatience.
As inconspicuously as he could, Killua slipped out the paper and unfolded it from its carelessly crumpled up version Gon must have spent trying to place it back into its rightful place. Killua noticed the note was actually torn in half so only part of what was written showed, so he was unfortunately made to read the only amount of words that were plainly viable with a disappointed sigh. He turned, placing his back on his sleeping friend in case he happened to wake, give him a few extra seconds to cover for himself and arouse the least amount of suspicion, and smoothed out the half-note until it was open enough to begin reading from.
"Dear Gon." Killua licked some moisture back into his lips as he read to himself, "I'm glad you finally answered my last letter. I was beginning to worry about how you've been doing lately with becoming a new Hunter and all. Likewise, I'm so proud of you Gon for doing what you feel is right. I still worry about you and I hope you'll come visit me soon, because your grandmother and I sure do miss you a lot. Make sure to bring your friend Killua along again, sometime. I'd love to have him over, he was such a joy to have here with us. Please make sure to give him our regards." - Killua flushed all the way to the tips of his ears at that - "Anyway, here are the rings you asked of me. I'm not sure why you wanted them, I mean, is there any particular reason you'd want that old collection of rings I've been keeping as your future saving bond? I did tell you before that I put those away for you to use when you were older and wanted to attend school or something else, since they are all very old rings passed down back through our families generation and worth a pretty penny. Please, if you can let me know why you wanted the rings, I'd really appreciate it-"
The note was cut off where it was torn and Killua blinked slowly, the dawning of his earlier dread coming back to him, choking him on the shuddering thoughts worming their way into his fore-consciousness. Terror was like a virus and there was no antidote or antitoxin that could cure it and Killua dropped the letter in loo of clutching at his frantically pounding chest, twisting his hand up in the fabric of his shirt with an inaudible gasp.
"Gon had a huge handful of rings earlier and was pawning them off at the shop."
Killua fought to breathe, finding it difficult to catch his breath. His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, sweat lacing his brow and the rush of his adrenaline thick in his blood and making his veins and arteries feel like they would burst at any moment. His rib cage and chest felt bruised, painful, and tender to the touch and he was unable to grasp too long or face the lance of agony dripping into his system every second. He could only guess his blue eyes were dilated, pupils blown far out of proportion, and every hair on his body was standing on end like all the times he'd been consumed in a whirlwind of powerful electrical currents.
His heart skipped a beat.
Those rings weren't part of the Greed Island's game system. Those were real life rings.
In his mad dash to start digging through Gon's backpack, he knocked over the sack in the process and spilled all of its contents out in a loud clamber in front of him. Clothes and junk and papers, food and more all fell to the floor and wound up everywhere. But Killua's vision was too glazed over, too hazy to comprehend what was what as he started grabbing at anything just to touch it, squeeze it in his hands, and figure out what exactly he held in each one.
Gon had yet to be roused in his panic.
He sold off Mito's rings for Greed Island currency. He didn't even tell her why.
He didn't tell them why.
Blindly, Killua picked up possession after possession of Gon's, fumbling through the array of items discarded and strung haphazard around his feet. He was now on his knees as he bent over to pull each one to his face and examine it in the pitch black, sapphire eyes narrowed and night vision struggling to decipher whatever it is he was holding in a death grip because he realized he couldn't control the shaking in his hands for all the training in the world.
Water bottles. He threw the empty and half-empty containers far out and they hit the wall, clattering.
Clothes. They all ended up scattered and disorganized now, wrinkled and dirty.
Tackles and bait. The low clicking and metal tinkling made Gon's ear twitch but nothing more.
Snacks. Killua felt bile in his throat and gagged, covering his mouth with one hand to stifle a dry heave.
Hunter license. He barely managed to throw that important trinket nearby Gon for the time being.
Papers and pictures and empty wrappers. They were everywhere, dots on his vision, stabs in his heart.
Socks. Those were long gone and chucked far out the opening of their little cave already.
Mito's letter. It was torn further and even tape could put it back together and make it readable again.
He shuffled a few minutes before through everything before he paused on something in particular. But it was nothing that he was expecting it to be.
No.
The last thing Killua found his hands stopping on made his blood freeze to ice and his body turn cold, rock like a statue. There was a quiet crinkling sound, the barest of his fingertips brushing over cool plastic and something soft but bumpy inside of it. When he pressed into it, it would yield to him, and he could keep on pushing as whatever it was would move away with some force and eventually part until his finger touched the hard floor surface underneath.
No. No.
Killua choked on a gag of his own spit and stomach juices, clapping a hand over his lips as he leaned to the side and willed his damned hardest not to retch it out and his bodily sounds make Gon wake.
No. No. No.
It took him a moment to regain what little composure he had left before he swallowed down on what lingered in his mouth, swinging back to the side as he grabbed hold of that foreign object from before and yanked it to his face; eyes wide and scrutinizing in the dark. Trembling hands grasped to either side, keeping it in place yet still shaky, and Killua dug his nails into the plastic so hard it ripped out the other side. His night vision zoned in and he recognized the dark, blurry shape the second it came into his view and his eyesight adjusted to the closeness.
No.
He dropped it as soon as he saw it and with all the agility he possessed, he grabbed hold of Gon's discarded backpack and screamed soundlessly into the fabric as loud as he was able, bending forward against the thick material on his knees in order to do so. Killua screamed and screamed and Gon was still peacefully asleep beside him; a normal human being succumbed to nature's mechanics for a body's own slumber and personal maintenance time when one is at rest. Gon was going to sleep good tonight and feel and look absolutely great and rejuvenated the next morning.
Killua wasn't so sure even all his panic-filled screams and hoarse breathing or lack of air would knock him out at this point.
And so, he was reduced to nothing but a terrified mess as he cried out soundlessly again and again; uncontrollably into Gon's backpack, his gaze never leaving that single piece of plastic baggy at his feet.
Or the white, powdery drug called methamphetamine inside of it.
He stared at it like it was a lifeline; his lifeline and not just Gon's, only worse.
And he screamed.