Author's Notes:
RATING: Mature
CONTENT WARNINGS (in the uncensored AO3 version): Explicit sexual content and past non-consent.
NOTE: To read this story's missing scenes, check the uncensored version on Archive of Our Own (AO3 username: lemonpika).
Chapter 3: Hands Are Tied
"I'm a monster," Kurapika mutters, peering through his fingers as he finishes recounting to Leorio the traumatizing aftermath of his fight with the first fallen Spider. "How could I be feeling so stimulated by my battle against one of the ruthless murderers of my clansmen? I — I'm a freak, I'm a hypocrite. I must be as terrible as any of the Troupe. Or worse. Way worse."
Leorio's mind is still whirring overtime with every gritty detail Kurapika has just divulged to him. But Leorio can't get lost in the weeds at the moment. He recognizes the agonized desperation, the immense self-hatred dripping from Kurapika's every syllable. Leorio felt a similar sense of all-encompassing shame when he failed to save Pietro, his most cherished childhood friend, from the clutches of death.
Leorio reaches out toward Kurapika's knee but then freezes, his palm hovering inches above the navy blue skirt.
"Kurapika, listen. You're nothing like the Spiders who stole your family from you. You've got a good heart. A big, fat one those chains of yours can't smother. You've got a solid moral code. The fact that you're even giving yourself this much grief over urges you obviously can't control proves that, clear as day."
The heaving of Kurapika's chest stabilizes eventually, and his hands lower slowly from his face. Kurapika's palm presses over Leorio's reaching hand, which in turn rests against the skirted knee.
"Thank you, Leorio. You're too kind to me."
"Well, yeah, 'cause you deserve all the kindness in the world! You're far from a freak or a monster! If you can't see that for yourself, then let me be the first to say it."
What Leorio really wants to say is he's itching for the first opportunity to beat Kurapika's Nen teacher into a pulp.
(There is a deleted scene here.)
Right now, what Kurapika requires — what Kurapika deserves — isn't somebody who will go ballistic and square up with his enemies. Instead, he needs somebody who will stay in his corner and support him and hold him, if he wants it and how he wants it.
Over his own lap, Kurapika interlaces his fingers with Leorio's. Kurapika squeezes Leorio's hand tightly. Maybe too tightly.
But Leorio's sturdy. He'll be okay.
"I'm especially afraid," Kurapika says softly, in contrast to his forceful grip on Leorio's fingers, "of going up against Chrollo, who led the genocide of my clan. I'm not sure if I can live with myself if I end up surrendering to the imagery of him, bound by my chains and utterly at my mercy."
"I'll be beside you, Kurapika. No matter what happens when you confront him, you'll have me. I won't let you face him alone."
"I know you won't."
Kurapika finally releases Leorio's hand, which has just begun to lose all feeling. Kurapika's fingers slide up Leorio's forearm and come to rest just before his bicep. Kurapika's thumb gently strokes over the sensitive crook of Leorio's arm.
Instinctively, Leorio leans in, yearning for more contact. Can they hug? Will Kurapika allow it?
Kurapika starts speaking again, which forces Leorio to snap back into focus. "So this is where you come in, Leorio. This is why I've taken you to this room where we can be alone. This is where you can help me."
Leorio has been listening all this time, but he's still unsure about what Kurapika is asking from him.
(There is a deleted scene here.)
Then the chains vanish all at once, and Kurapika topples over Leorio's now liberated body.
Despite his bone-deep exhaustion, Leorio welcomes the full weight of Kurapika's naked body over his own. With one arm wrapped protectively around Kurapika's panting form, Leorio summons just enough energy to pull the sheets over them both.
This is far and away the best he's ever had, Leorio's blissed-out brain manages to muster as he lazily runs his palm up and down Kurapika's sweaty back. Before this moment, Leorio had no idea it could feel so transcendent. He's willing to bet Kurapika shares this sentiment.
Just as Leorio is marveling over this milestone, Kurapika detaches his cheek from the mess on Leorio's chest and suddenly slumps over to the mattress. Kurapika is now lying on his side, with his back facing Leorio. Leorio rolls over to his side as well, scoots closer, and slings his arm loosely over Kurapika's waist. Upon burying his face into that blond head of hair, Leorio notes that Kurapika's breathing has shifted to the measured rhythm of slumber.
When Kurapika wakes, Leorio is going to insist that he input his email address into Leorio's Beatle-07, once and for all. If Kurapika still resists, Leorio is ready to bait him. Kurapika now wants him — no, needs him — and Leorio loves being wanted and needed more than anything. It only makes sense for them to stay in close contact, doesn't it?
No, perhaps Leorio is being too presumptuous. Kurapika might've rattled off his reasons for choosing Leorio to help him, but neither of them brought up the possibility of anything long-term. There's a chance Kurapika will cast Leorio aside now that he's successfully identified a number of tricks to achieve a satisfying experience. Besides, Kurapika has already shown a tendency of drifting away from those who know him best, of shunning support when he needs it most.
The prospect of never being able to hold Kurapika like this again is nothing short of unbearable. Now that Leorio has realized how perfectly they fit together — adjacent puzzle pieces, as they earlier ascertained — he can't stand the thought of this being a one-time thing.
"Are you planning to throw me away after this?" Leorio whispers, his lips pressed against the soft golden hair. "Or keep ignoring my calls?"
Of course, Kurapika makes no answer.
Leorio wraps both his arms around Kurapika's sleeping form, encompasses the expanse of Kurapika's narrow back with his broad chest. There's no telling what the future holds. But Kurapika is in Leorio's arms now, and maybe that's what matters most.
If nothing else, Leorio isn't one to back down when he truly desires something, anything. He chases every lofty goal with all the tenacity of a wild bull. He goes for gold even when he has no shot in hell of winning. And it's not like his brash efforts have yielded him zero results. He wasn't born the sharpest tool in the shed, and yet he managed to score an acceptance to one of the top premedical programs in the nation. He's grown from a grimy kid who'd pickpocket the snottiest patrons in the casinos his good-for-nothing, gambling-addicted parents frequented into a semi-respectable adult with a license in his pocket worth billions of jenny — a license he earned entirely legitimately.
Now there's somebody in Leorio's line of sight that he's just decided he can't live without. They're here together for the moment, but surely there must be a path forward where these moments are frequent and consistently filled with the promise of more. Perhaps there'll even come a time when every night ends with their bodies entwined beneath the blankets just like this. A guy can dream, right?
Leorio gazes ahead at this dream, fittingly crowned with gold, until the shores of sleep usher him under.