Chapter Text
“And in the end, Illumi agreed to cut me a deal,” Hisoka says. He’s sitting at Gon’s bedside in a high-collared white shirt with black and red suits stamped along the short bottom hem, his pants black and tight around his hips. His legs are crossed as he leans back easily in the chair.
Gon, propped up against pillows and with the head of the bed raised, nods. He’s in a shared room with two other guys, one a young roofer who fell off a two-storey roof and broke his pelvis, one an older musician who was in a car accident. There’s a limit to how much they can say here.
Killua, of course, had wanted him flown to a private medical facility and was halfway to pulling in internationally-acclaimed surgeons to deal with the bullet wound when Hisoka stepped in. Gon’s safer with no clear associations with the Zoldyck family.
Which is who they were dealing with, of course. Illumi Zoldyck, head fixer for his family’s crime syndicate and Killua’s oldest brother.
“That’s great. Are you gonna stop selling the b – the hibiscus tea, then?”
“Mm, I’ll probably simply downgrade my offerings to a less… intense flavour. Illumi’s not interested in minor sales – they’re beneath his notice. And I can fly under the radar. For a while,” adds Hisoka, smiling.
Gon has no doubt that, as soon as the Zoldyck syndicate’s attention has passed on, Hisoka will be back to his main business. But for now, they don’t need to worry about that. “I didn’t know you knew Killua’s older brother,” he says.
“Oh, we go way back. Our friendship is to die for.”
Gon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I saw that. But I’m glad you worked everything out.”
“Yes, wasn’t that nice of us? Next time, I may not be so inclined.” He leans forward, stretching out a hand and catching Gon’s chin. The points of his nails prick his flesh, his jaw opening slightly.
“Hisokaaa –” he mumbles.
Hisoka leans in, his eyes glinting. His lips are painted crimson today, too bright for blood. “Understand this: I don’t like cleaning up messes. The mess you would have caused, had you gone through on your threat against Illumi, would have been immense. Try to consider that, next time.”
“Hisoka – were you worried about me?” It’s a little hard to speak with Hisoka holding his jaw, his words coming out slightly garbled. But he smiles all the same, his cheeks sore.
“You are mine, until I say otherwise,” growls Hisoka, voice low and his mouth to Gon’s ear. “Your life rests in my hands, no one else’s.” He bends down and kisses Gon – hard, with teeth and tongue.
He releases Gon as he breaks away, then smiles. “Don’t you look absolutely adorable,” he purrs, and with his thumb wipes some red lipstick off Gon’s lips.
Gon pulls the back of his hand across his lips – it comes away red. “Hisoka, c’mon. I’m stuck in this bed for another two days.”
“And won’t you look stunning,” says Hisoka, standing. “Not to worry – I’ll be all ready to welcome you home when you get out. I picked up a souvenir in Amsterdam that I think you’ll like.” With a smirk, he turns and sashays out of the large room.
In the silence that remains, Gon is acutely aware of both of his roommates’ eyes on him.
Slowly, he pulls his sheet up over his head.
***
It’s late. Gon’s at the end of the hospital hallway in a wheelchair, looking out the window at the palm trees below. Behind him, Killua’s pale face is reflected in the glass. He’s frowning, his eyes sad.
“Cheer up, Killua. Everything’s fine.”
“Everything’s fine because one of Illumi’s stooges snitched on him and I got back in time. If I hadn’t…”
“But you did. And besides, I’m sure Hisoka had it all in hand.”
“I’m sure he didn’t,” replies Killua, voice snapping. “It’s his fault –”
“Killua. Let’s not get into blaming people for their jobs, okay? Or their choices.”
Killua falls silent. Gon can hear his hands gripping the rubber of the wheelchair’s handlebars, his fists tight. In the silence of the hospital at night, metal creaks.
“I’m okay. And you’re okay, and Hisoka’s okay, and your brother’s okay. Everyone’s okay, and Hisoka and your brother worked their shit out.”
Killua sighs. “They worked their shit out because I’m Illumi’s favourite, and he knows if he messes with me I’ll cut him out entirely once I finish school. He’s hanging by a line as thin as spiderweb, and he would do anything to keep me close. Fine. I can handle that. But Gon, Hisoka’s embedded in a world with hundreds – thousands – of people like Illumi. I can’t help you with them.”
Gon tilts his head back. “I don’t think there’s anyone else like your brother,” he says. “And Hisoka – there’s no one like him, either. I’m not trying to be naïve, but –”
“But you are,” says Killua, tiredly. “I’ve grown up with this kind of fuckery my whole life, Gon. That’s why I knew Hisoka was bad news the minute I met him. The fact that he and Illumi have a creepy-ass bromance going on only makes it worse. Please. I won’t ask you to ditch him, but… but you’ve gotta be careful. Always, around him.”
Gon nods. “I know. And I know you think he’s bad news and nothing else. But Killua – he came after me. He flew halfway around the world to get home on your brother’s deadline, and if he could’ve he would’ve taken care of everything and gotten me out of there.”
“But he couldn’t,” says Killua, flatly. “And you deserve better.”
Gon’s smile is warm, like the sunrise. “You’re a good guy, Killua. You always want the best for me. But I have what I want already. And that’s not someone who can beat the snot out of your brother. It’s someone who would give everything for me. Okay?”
Killua closes his eyes, head drooping.
“Okay?” asks Gon again, softer.
Killua opens his eyes, the smile on his lips weak as starlight. But it’s there. “Okay,” he says.
“Thanks, Killua.”
***
The next day Hisoka arrives in a bright yellow convertible to pick him up. He’s wearing sunglasses and cowboy boots; Gon smiles as he manoeuvres himself into the passenger seat and Hisoka tosses the crutches in the back. Hisoka brought him the clothes he’s wearing – a t-shirt and board shorts. He leans over and runs his palm down Gon’s front, dipping low. “Hisoka – we’re right outside the hospital!”
“Mm, so we are.” Hisoka pulls back, twitches his glasses into place, and starts the car. “I’m surprised Killua let you out of his sight.”
“He didn’t want to,” says Gon.
“No. Isn’t he magnanimous.”
“He is!” protests Gon. Hisoka glances at him, his smile crooked.
“You and I have different definitions of magnanimity. Killua shares his most precious thing, and you applaud it. Me, my generosity extends to you being in the same room as him.”
Outside the windows the scenery rolls by, concrete and telephone poles and palm trees. And, above, the endless blue sky shot through with white contrails. “He wants me to leave you,” says Gon, slowly. Hisoka doesn’t answer, simply waits, like a lion in the long grass. “He thinks you’re bad for me. Maybe you are.”
“Maybe,” agrees Hisoka, his voice easy.
Gon looks over at him, his red hair so bright against the blue sky, his gold eyes flashing like candy bar wrappers behind the sunglasses. His long hands holding the wheel with just enough grip.
“I’m not afraid of danger,” says Gon. “No – more than that. Living life without danger, without adventure… what’s the point?”
Hisoka makes a soft noise of agreement.
“The first moment I met you, Hisoka, it was so clear to me exactly who you are. I don’t mean the kind of music you like, or the car you drive or your favourite restaurant. I mean I knew that you’d always be surrounded by danger, because that’s how you live. You’d die without it, like a fish in the desert. And that… I like that,” says Gon.
Hisoka’s smile unfurls slow as a flower in the sun, creeping up his face.
“Is that good enough?” he asks.
Hisoka looks over at him, eyes shining. “Mm, I think so,” he says, wrapping his fingers tighter around the steering wheel.
Then he hits the gas.
END