Disclaimer: How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?
Things to know: Right before Greed Island
Phobia
An intense fear of a specific object or situation.
Killua always figured Gon's what some would call "a reckless idiot" or even just "plain stupid," but he prefers to label his best friend "Fearless" with a capital F. As in facing down a member of the Phantom Trope without so much as trembling. Letting a ninja break his arm without even entertaining the thought to surrender. Befriending a kid he watched kill a serial murderer. You know, Fearless. A level above what even Killua could ever hope to be.
Finding out Gon isn't, in fact, Fearless is somehow less reassuring than it should be.
"…Killua?"
Gon continues to stare down at Killua through the darkness, his eyes still as unreadable as ever as he waits for a response to his confession, and it makes the situation all that worse as the taller boy searches for words of comfort to give that frankly don't exist in this situation, because how is he supposed to assure Gon that Ging isn't some big asshole? That everything won't go to hell when they meet? Anything he says will come out as a lie, and Gon's always known when Killua lies.
So he silently stares back.
Killua hates the building they decided to camp in for their last night in York New. It's a single room shack that barely manages to squeeze in one bed and Killua's sleeping bag, but it's far from the city. Discovery is unlikely, occupancy is free, but it also means there are no people to offer background noise, no sounds to distract them. The silence practically begs to be filled, and apparently Gon's decided to fill it at two in the morning when they should be sleeping. Or maybe it's just the fatigue of all their Nen work finally catching up to them and making Gon delirious enough to talk to Killua of all people about his feelings.
Where's Leorio when you need him? Or Kurapika? Hell, Hisoka's probably better equipped to deal with this! Anyone but Killua is the better option really.
"Do you think Ging'll want me to call him Dad?"
Killua offers a hum, unsure whether to be relieved or not that the conversation is continuing.
The creak from Gon's bed is ungodly loud as he sits up, drawing the covers around his body. He shouldn't look that small. Killua doesn't care if he is only twelve. Gon Freeces has no right to look so tiny wrapped up in a musty blanket.
Then, in a voice so quiet it's nearly nonexistent, Gon mutters, "What if he's not there?"
And that's just not fair.
Gon's not really surprised when Killua sits down next to him without so much as a creak and leans heavily on his shoulder. His friend's always been a guy of few words, and honestly Gon prefers this kind of silent reassurance. He might as well be curling up next to Mito.
But then Gon puts his arm around Killua and this is just too close, the room is just too small, and he needs to say something, break the sudden energy jolting through his body—
"I'll still be there." Killua swallows, tries not the think too hard. "Whether Ging's there or not, I'll be there."
Silence stretches out over several minutes. If Killua didn't know any better, he'd think Gon was asleep. Glancing over though, he sees his friend is as awake as ever, eyes bright in the darkness.
What will happen if Ging wants Gon to go with him?
Neither of them asks the unsaid question, but it floats out into the cramped space, coating everything with its heaviness.
Almost defensively Killua leans into Gon, slouching down to get a more comfortable position against Gon's shoulder. His legs hang off the bed no matter how he sits, so he resigns himself to cold feet.
Gon pulls his arm out from where it's trapped between their bodies, mentally laughing at the undignified whine his tired friend lets out, and places it limply on the bed behind Killua, not quite hugging, but close enough.
And suddenly their warm little cocoon doesn't seem so suffocating.
Don't leave me.