Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The year was 1968.

San Francisco, California.

It was a busy Friday in the Haight-Ashbury district. By nine in the evening, the lamp-lit streets were crawling with the progressives of the generation. Shops had closed, but the dive bars burst with life, laughter and collective noise of the swarming youth flooding the atmosphere of the neighborhood.

A racket that Kurapika was both used to but foreign to at the same time.

Fresh out of the bed of a stranger’s chevy truck (a very impressionable blue color he knew he’d remember), his sandaled feet moved him along the concrete walkway. He occasionally squeezed through groups of people. They were probably too drunk or doped up to pay him any mind—not that he hadn’t been there himself.

His attire suited the environment he’d found himself in. He wore a pair of low-rise light denim jeans, the belt loops tied off with a brown, thin fabric sash. A hand-crocheted, orange button-up vest covered a white tunic: acrylic and with a round neck finish. He fiddled with the unique embroidered work on the vest, stitched in a way that looked like it meant something personal.

Walking for as long as it would take him, given he didn’t ever keep track of time, he made it to a motel. The two-storied complex had walls painted an appealing beige color and maroon beams supporting the balcony. He made his way into the rundown lobby, looking around to gaze upon some outdated chairs and a coffee pot that probably hadn’t been used in ages. Approaching the front desk, his eyes fell to a woman. She looked… rather displeased to be wasting her evening in a rundown motel reception lobby. Kurapika was less than surprised.

“How much for a night?” he asked the woman as he reached into his crochet bag. It was a unique piece that he carried with him. Every stitch meant something. He was a very traditional person when it came to belongings. He could make anything, turn nothing into something.

“Ten bucks with meals included,” the woman said, not even looking up from the scribbles she’d probably been  working into a notepad for the past hour.

Kurapika pulled out a wad of cash that was rolled up and tied off with a rubber band. He slipped out a ten dollar bill and handed it to her. 

She accepted it and gave him a key. “If you want additional nights, just give me a call. The lobby extension is 227,” she said in a rather unamused tone. He wasn’t one to judge; he would probably hate this job too.

Kurapika went to his room, opening the door to the stale smell of cigarettes. Setting his bag down on the scratchy teal colored quilt, he took a seat beside it. It felt like it had been ages since he was able to actually relax. Not relax like getting high with some truckers behind a gas station dumpster or getting drunk with a bar pick-up in a rundown apartment. He was finally able to breathe. Enjoy his own company. He laid back on the bed, kicking off his sandals, listening to the slide across the carpet.

After a few minutes, the bliss faded.

“Okay. I’m bored,” he said to himself before getting up and grabbing his bag. He slipped on his shoes and headed out the door.

Kurapika was a nomad. A traveler. He liked his peace but he had been riding the adventure high for almost a decade now. He didn’t like being still for too long.

—

He proceeded to head back into the nightlife, the music and the chatter growing as he got closer to the crowds.

As he allowed his feet to guide him mindlessly, he stopped in front of a diner. The smell of fresh coffee reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in a few days. He headed inside and took a seat in one of the red booths near a window. He ordered something standard: a black coffee and a traditional breakfast plate.

The food sat cold but the coffee was good for his money. He sipped it slowly as he watched people walking by the window. They seemed like they were in their own worlds. In a way, he envied them.

He finished his coffee and left a tip next to his untouched meal before grabbing his bag and heading out. 

As the night carried, he found his way to a dive bar that had live music. He slipped in through the crowd and swiped a half-full glass of whiskey off an empty table. He made his way to a booth in the back, sinking into the cushion as he sipped on his claimed beverage.

Then, his eye caught the band.

Their sound was alternative to the popular music he’d usually hear on the radio of some geezer he’d flagged down on a country road during his time in the south. This sounded different. Like the rock music he enjoyed but… more mysterious.

And the singer.

Kurapika was intrigued and he knew nothing good would come of it. He was usually drawn to people that meant nothing good for him. Or society in general.

He continued to watch their set, enjoying it but not showing it. He wasn’t very good at expressing… well, any sort of emotion, nor did he really feel it was necessary. He felt the way he felt and that was the end of it.

Soon, as if the night went by in the blink of an eye, he found himself leaving the grime-filled bathroom in the back hallway of the bar only to cross paths with an interesting and somewhat irritable character. She said her name was… Neon.

“How come I’ve never seen you here before? I feel like I would remember you!” She spoke in a forced voice full of shrill tone and flirtatious connotation.

He tuned her out mostly. He was used to people bothering him like this. He did not know why people were drawn to him at times, but he just ignored it. The only thing that caught his attention was that she gave him a flier for a house party at “Zep’s”, whoever that was.

“He throws these sick ass parties! I hope to see you there!” she said, gently touching his arm before walking off.

How insufferable.

He had been to house parties before. They weren't always enjoyable. But he was in a new city. A culturally revolutionary city at that. Maybe things would be different. He stuffed the flier into his bag and headed towards the exit. As he crossed the bar, he felt eyes watching him. He didn’t investigate the feeling and swiftly took his leave.

He went to the party.

—

Kurapika did not intend on talking to anyone. He poured himself a drink and maneuvered through the crowded, outdated house, making his way upstairs. The halls were filled with people, chatting, making out, doing lines. Typical gathering of the modern day youth.

He made his way into a room, grateful he didn't stumble upon anyone in the middle of a drunken fuck session. The room was breathtaking in a way, the shelves filled from floor to ceiling with records. He looked around before his gaze fell on a window leading out to the roof. Kurapika walked over and slid the glass up and climbed through, feeling a humid breeze against his face, his jewelry clinking against the windowsill. This was the perfect spot: the music wasn't too loud, and the drunk and drugged people weren't too close.

He sat comfortably, pulling his thin legs up against his chest as he pulled a slightly crumpled cigarette from his vest pocket. His heavy gaze fell down to the people in the yard below making a fool of themselves. He watched them like personal entertainment as he dug through his bag for a match. Shit.

“Need a light?”

----

Chapter Text

“Man Pleease? Just this once!” Killua said in an obnoxious plea to Leorio, who was trying to enjoy his time lounging in the grass.

“Dude can you knock it off? You are a big boy now, get your own reefer!” He barked back, his thick eyebrows furrowed.

Killua rolled his eyes “You know Zep better than I do! Plus it’s fun making you do shit for me.” He snickered. That granted him a gentle fist to the side.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole!” Leorio snapped before lying back once again, arms propped up behind his head as he looked back up at the stars.

Leorio had lived in San Francisco for a few years now, ever since he dropped out of med school. It was “too steep” as he would say. So, he decided to explore his youth for a bit longer. Not alot of time had passed after arriving that he got a job at a local bar, leading him to meet Killua and Gon. A couple of rascal kids fresh outta highschool, yammering on about how they were gonna be “the next big thing cali has ever seen!”

“Guys guys, look!” Gon rushed over, his shirt ripped and his shitty bowl cut ratted from continuous rounds of dirt wrestling with a few of their other boozed companions.

In his hand he held a tooth which became more factual to Leorio when he noticed Gon’s stupid toothless grin.

Killua started cracking up “You fucker, what did Zush do, clock you?!”

Leorio sat up, becoming more alert. “Gon what the hell?!” 

Gon laughed “It’s okay, man. It wasn’t that important if it fell out, ya know?”

Leorio was dumbfounded. “Yeah, Gon, your teeth shouldn’t be falling out that easily at the age of 18. Go to a fuckin’ dentist.”

Gon simply grinned and sat down next to Killua as their stoned minds made Gon’s bloody canine look like a goddamn exhibit. Leorio watched them and couldn’t help but smile a bit. He loved those two like they were his own brothers, despite them being a couple of greened-out hippies a majority of the time, they had good spirits. And man could they rock out.

“Okay guys listen- Alluka c’mere!” Gon called out across the backyard.

A boy about their age came rushing over with a girl clung to his back, giggling cutely as she held onto him. “Hey guys!” she said, her voice sweet and kind.

Killua rolled his eyes “Zush, can you stop hitting on my sister?”

Zushi immediately lost his smile, dropping her from his hold. Alluka groaned “Killua, you suck.” She said with a pout as she walked over to sit next to Gon. Zushi went to follow her but stopped as a chill ran up his spine when he caught wind of Killua’s threatening demeanor.

“I’ll…catch you guys later..” He laughed nervously before hurrying back into the crowded house.

Alluka leaned over Gon to smack Killua’s arm “You are such a loser!”

“What, saving you from Zush? That guy is a loser, Luka.” Killua said in protest.

Alluka rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in disagreement.

Gon smiled, looking at the two “Can you guys shut up and let me talk?”

Alluka and Killua went quiet, giving Gon his chance to fill the dead air. He turned his attention to Leorio. “Okay we have a new tune. It’s bitchin’!” He said excitedly. He pulled out his drumsticks from his waistband. He took those sticks everywhere. He said it was because ‘You never know when inspiration will hit ya!’

Leorio sighed and turned his full attention to the three “Okay buddy, lay it on me.” He smiled.

Gon grinned and tapped his drumsticks together before letting out a half assed tune.

“Imma caterpillar! Du du du du dun! Crawlin’ for your loooove!” He sang, lightly tapping his sticks against the ground. “Sooo? Did it groove?”

The three of them stared at Gon, intrigued, but confused.

“Why are you a caterpillar?” Killua asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I'm crawling for your loooooove, Killua!” He said in a teasing manner.

Killua stared at him before tackling him “I'll give you somethin’ to crawl about asshole!” He said as he started to wrestle him.

Alluka watched them before looking at Leorio and smiled “Well I liked it!”

“Okay, okay. Break it up you two!” Leorio said to Gon and Killua, almost like a father scolding his kids. “So you got a new song in the works, huh?” He smiled.

“Yeah!” Gon huffed, sitting back up.

“Not until we find a new singer.” Killua said as he sat up as well.

“What happened to Kev?” Leorio asked with a confused tone.

“The man was doped up every single sesh! We had to boot him.” Killua said, pulling a joint out of his pocket.

Leorio liked their band; Big Bro and the Holding Company. They had a good sound and you could really groove to their folk-rock tune. But, Killua was right. They went through leads like nobody’s business. He really just hoped they could get a steady front man someday.

Killua lit his joint and took a drag before it was swiftly snatched from his fingers by Gon. “Hey!” Killua barked, reaching for the joint.

Gon took a hit and blew it in Killua’s face, flashing his toothless grin once more. Killua punched his arm. A few more punches were thrown before the two were back to tackling each other. Alluka rolled her eyes and got up, walking back to another group of people across the yard.

Leorio sighed, watching the two fight over a now crumpled joint. Morons. He looked back at the house, watching the people inside laugh and dance. He then glanced up to see the light on in an upstairs window. Knowing exactly what room it was, he immediately stood up and walked toward the house.

Gon sat up and looked at him “Where are you goin’, man?”

Leorio looked back “Going to kick some horny stoneheads out of my record room!” He called out before continuing to head inside. 

“They better not be damaging my shit…”  He mumbled under his breath, his brows furrowed with annoyance as he walking to the stairs.

Chapter Text

“Need a light?” A deep voice spoke from behind Kurapika.

He immediately turned his head to meet the eyes of a man that brought him immediate regret. He never listened to that feeling.

The singer.

Before him stood a tall man with dark wavy hair that fell to frame his face in tufts. His eyes were dark and somehow pierced through Kurapika’s walls with a simple glance, leaving him feeling vulnerable. Kurapika looked him up and down slowly, noticing his attire. He wore a cream peasant shirt made out of a soft polyester fabric. Tightly clung to his frame was a black leather jacket and a pair of tight leather pants to match. He approached the window, his boots clicking against the floor. He bent down and stuck his head out “Mind if I join you?” He asked with a sly smile.

Kurapika took one last look at him before looking back out at the view. “I suppose.” He spoke with an uninterested tone.

The man climbed through the window, carefully taking a seat on the roof paneling next to him. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a matchbook. Sliding out a match, he struck it along the back of the packaging and held the lit flame up to Kurapika.

Kurapika looked at him, hesitating before putting the cigarette in his mouth and hovering it over the fire, the paper slowly burning down as he puffed some smoke. After a long drag, he removed the cigarette from his mouth, propping it between his fingers and slowly blowing the smoke out with a relaxed exhale.

“Thank you.” He spoke, looking back out at the night sky.

“I saw you back at The Tavern, didn’t I?” The man said, pulling out his own cigarette and striking a second match.

“Possibly.” Kurapika said with the same blunt tone.

The man smiled a bit. “What’s a pretty young thing like you doin’ in a bar like that all alone?” He asked, taking a drag.

“Nothing beyond what it looked like.” Kurapika responded, looking at him. The man held out his hand “Chrollo.” He said. Kurapika looked at his hand for a moment before shaking his hand.

“My name is Kurapika.”

Chrollo raised his brows with interest as he took another drag. He blew the smoke and gave Kurapika a flirtatious smile. “What a beautiful name. Where are you from, Kurapika ?” He asked, Kurapika’s name escaping his lips like he savored its taste.

Kurapika felt his face heat up. He had met men like this before. They only wanted one thing. Unfortunately, with some liquor in his system, he would feel more inclined to give it to them. He would tell himself: “Just live.”

He looked away, not wanting Chrollo to catch a glimpse of rosy tint. “I uhm…I came up here from Port Arthur.” He said, taking another drag.

“Texas? Damn, you made quite the trip.” Chrollo said, looking Kurapika up and down. From his beaten up sandals all the way up to his messy blonde locks, he was taking him all in. He reached his hand over to gently turn Kurapika’s face in his direction. “No need to be shy. I don’t bite.” He said.

Kurapika moved his head away by an inch. “So…You are a musician.” He said, wanting to change the subject.

Chrollo nodded “Yeah. Started out in Los Angeles with some childhood friends in a shitty basement. Realized SF was better for traction. Also the blow is good here. It’s a lot better here than the shit you would pick up on the strip.”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow “Blow? I didn’t take you for that kind of man.” He said, his tone becoming more coquettish. He hesitated before he reached into his crochet bag and pulled out a small vial full of white powder, holding it up to Chrollo “Would you care to partake?”

–

Kurapika looked through the shelves full of records before sliding out a Velvet Underground album. He carefully slipped it from its sleeve and placed it on the turntable. Bringing the needle down, he stood for a moment, taking in the first few notes of the song before he felt a soft touch on his arm. He turned to see Chrollo standing behind him with a lit joint between his lips. He took a long drag before grasping it between his fingers and blowing out the smoke to the side “Good choice of tunes.” He said before leading the blonde over to the couch. As they sunk down onto the scratchy blue cushions, Kurapika pulled back out the vial of powder. He dumped a bit onto his hand and sniffed it gracefully before offering a second bump to the other.

Chrollo leaned forward and swiftly inhaled it through his left nostril like he did it for a living. He tilted his head back, pinching his nose as he felt that familiar feeling rush to his brain. He sniffed and smiled, “Damn, that’s good shit.” He said, looking at Kurapika.

They exchanged looks for a moment, the silence feeling less tense than before, although that regretful infatuation never faded.

Chrollo reached his hand out and pushed some stray blonde locks out of Kurapika’s face before resting his palm on his neck loosely. Kurapika could feel his thumb gently gliding against his jawline, his touch cold and smooth. Chrollo took a long drag from the joint before leaning in and taking in Kurapika’s taste while slowly blowing the smoke into his mouth.

Kurapika closed his eyes and allowed it to happen, leaning back as he felt Chrollo hover over him.

They never asked. After a while, he stopped expecting them to. 

A soft moan escaped Kurapika’s lips as he felt a lost hand find its way under his shirt. Chrollo’s touch was ice cold compared to the warmth of his once safe skin under layers of fabric.

Chrollo’s adventurous intimacy made its way down Kurapika’s neck, becoming more aggressive by the second as Kurapika gently gripped onto the back of his hair. He gave it a gentle tug, closing his eyes tighter as he tried to hold back and sounds of enjoyment. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed or trying to be modest.

He just didn’t want to enjoy it.

Before Chrollo’s hand made his way down to Kurapika’s waist, the room door swung open.

Leorio bursted in, his hand over his eyes, “Okay I dont know what the fuck you are doing but do it somewhere else!” He snapped.

Chrollo groaned and sat up. “Not this fucking guy…” He mumbled. Kurapika followed in suit, sitting up and smoothing out the back of his hair.

Leorio removed his hand and was ready to fire angry retorts at Chrollo, knowing him all too well and what kind of person he was, but something else caught his eye.

–

His long blonde locks, his delicate figure that was held up by a strong demeanor. Leorio was entranced by the man’s initial appearance but he had to put his sudden entrancement aside. 

These people were in his space and he wasn't going to have it.

Leorio walked over to the record player and picked up the needle, stopping the music. “Who the fuck do you think you are playing other people’s shit?! It’s common courtesy to ask first at least, Chrollo!”

Chrollo rolled his eyes “Listen, dickhead. If you didn’t want people making out in your music room, you shouldn’t have a fucking party to begin with.”

Leorio gave him a cold glare as he walked closer “Listen, man! You are in my house! Either respect my shit or get the fuck out!”

Kurapika stood aside from the two, already getting annoyed by the pointless arguing.

“Look, I'm the one who put the record on, okay? We were just listening to music, no one was disrespecting your things.” He said, stepping in between them.

Leorio looked down at the blonde with a scowl. “Oh yeah?!” He snatched the joint from Chrollo’s hand “What kind of geniuses smoke joints around collectables?! I've got valuable shit in here!”

“Then maybe lock the door next time! Don’t project your own irresponsibility onto us!” Kurapika barked back with the same fire in his tone.

“YOU are in MY space! Did your parents not teach you basic fucking manners?!” Leorio retorted.

Kurapika felt a pang in his chest at that comment . Now wasn’t the time to get hung up on it. He was about to snap back at the tall man when Chrollo put his arm around Kurapika’s waist “Let’s ditch this loser.” He said, shooting a glare at Leorio before leading Kurapika out of the room. Kurapika didn’t want to leave with him but this was probably a better outcome than whatever was to escalate from that argument. He sighed and followed Chrollo out the door.

As they made it to the bottom of the stairs, Kurapika realized he forgot something.

–

Leorio still resided in the record room, making sure everything was in place. He grumbled angry nonsense to himself as he carefully removed the Velvet Underground record from the turntable and slipped it back into its casing.

As he tidied up, he decided to entertain himself with a little tune.

“These arms of mine,

They are lonely…

Lonely and feeling blue.

These arms of mine,

They are yearning…

Yearning from wanting you.

And if you would let them hold you,

Oh how grateful I would be.

These arms of m- “

“I like your voice.” Kurapika spoke from the doorway.

Leorio jumped slightly, turning to meet Kurapika’s gazing brown eyes. He exhaled deeply “I- uhm…Shit don’t scare me like that, man!” He said with furrowed brows as he looked away a bit.

“I apologize.” Kurapika responded with a less hostility in his tone than from before. “I just forgot my bag is all.”

Leorio’s expression softened as he looked around the room. He spotted the crochet bag on the couch and picked it up. He walked towards Kurapika and handed it to him. “Here.”

Kurapika took the bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Thank you.” He said before turning to leave. He stopped for a moment before turning back to Leorio. “I am sorry for being rude earlier. You were right, I should have been more respectful of your belongings.”

Leorio managed a small smile, “Ah. It's okay! I was a bit aggressive with my words, you were just giving back the same energy.”

There was something about Kurapika. Leorio couldn’t tell if it was the way he spoke or the way he presented himself but… he couldn’t help but get this feeling in his chest. A feeling that he wouldn’t regret this moment with him.

“You have good taste. The Velvet Underground is one of my favorite albums.” Leorio said to break the short silence, hoping Kurapika didn’t notice him staring.

“I should say the same to you since you own it.” Kurapika said. “I also love Otis Redding.”

“What?” Leorio raised an eyebrow.

“The song you were singing. ‘ These Arms of Mine’ ? One of my favorites from his ‘Pain in my Heart’ record.” Kurapika responded, clearing up his confusion.

Leorio felt his heart beat faster.

“Yeah! I love the blues. Best kind of music.” he said. “I also really like Johnny Cash.”

Kurapika’s face lit up, a smile forming on his soft lips. “Oh I love Johnny Cash.”

That did it. Leorio felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. That smile. He never wanted to see that smile fade. 

Kurapika reached into his bag and pulled out a cassette tape with a faded label that said ‘Johnny Cash’ handwritten on it. “I carry this everywhere with me.”

Leorio looked at the cassette. “Bitchin’! I… I have a Johnny Cash record if you want it. I have so many, I probably won't miss it.” He offered.

Kurapika put the cassette back in his bag “Oh I wouldn’t have any use for it.” He said. “I’m staying in a shitty motel, I would have nowhere to put it. But thank you.”

Leorio looked at him with curiosity. “A motel? You just passin’ through?”

Kurapika shook his head, “No, I just got here. I just don’t have a place yet.” He said as he clutched onto the strap of his bag.  It’s all he had to his name.

Leorio nodded, understanding what Kurapika was getting at. “Well, whenever you want it, let me know.” Kurapika nodded in return before turning to walk out of the room.

“Oh wait!” Leorio called out. Kurapika turned to look at him, “Yes?”

“I didn’t catch your name.” He said, hoping that Kurapika didn’t pick up on his bashful expression. “I’m Leorio.”

“Kurapika.” he said in response with a soft smile before walking out of the room and gently closing the door behind him.

Leorio felt like he could breathe again. He couldn’t even begin to explain what was going on in his mind. He had never met someone so… ethereal. So interesting. He stood in the same spot for what felt like hours, trying to convince himself he was crazy for feeling this way so suddenly.

Well shit.

---

Chapter Text

It was a late night at Morel’s; a dive bar on Waller Street.

Big Bro and the Holding Company were a regular source of entertainment there, five days a week.

Leorio also happened to be a bartender there. He got the job when he first moved to San Francisco, leading him to meet Killua and the others.

“Leorioooooo.”

Speaking of Killua.

Leorio looked up from the glass he was cleaning to see the white-haired teen leaning against the other side of the counter. “What can a man do to get an old-fashioned around here?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Leorio looked at him in silence, momentarily. This guy. “Maybe you could try getting an ID first.” he said with an unimpressed tone.

“Hey I’m eighteen, I’m old enough!” Killua argued.

“Morel still requires identification, moron. Besides I already know you and Gon toked up in the alleyway.” Leorio spoke as he looked back down at the glass he was overshining.

“Well then who the fuck gave Gon a screwdriver…” Killua said, pointing over to a table next to the stage. Gon sat next to Alluka and Zushi, concentrating a little too hard on a fan of playing cards in one hand as he sipped from his glass with the other.

“That’s just orange juice.” A more feminine voice approached the two.

A shorter woman in a waitress uniform walked up behind Leorio. Her appearance was youthful. Her long blonde locks were pulled into a bumped half updo, bangs pulled back with a black velvet headband. The woman’s complexion was decorated with the latest makeup trends, pink rouged cheeks and thickened eyeliner. She could easily be mistaken for a teen, nevermind that she was a bar manager in her forties.

“Fuck off, Killua.” she said, her tone expressing that she was already done with his shit.

Killua rolled his eyes “Bisky come on, you know me! I'm obviously eighteen!” he said. Bisky narrowed her gaze in his direction.

“No ID, no drink. Take it up with the DMV.” she said before walking off to the back office.

Killua groaned, burying his face into the counter. “Unfair.” his voice muttered through the laquered wood.

Leorio could not help but let out a soft chuckle at the boy’s misery. “You knew the rules, I don’t know why you….” his words trailed off as his eyes locked onto the front entrance of the back.

Fuck.

—

A night out. Something Kurapika anticipated and dreaded all at the same time. He liked living freely but there was never a night where he didn’t regret his decisions.

Kurapika walked through the front entrance of Morel’s, a quaint yet socially vibrant bar. He had heard the band was worth the time and he was never one to turn down good music.

He did his usual scan before making his way to a booth in the back of the house. He sat down on the leather cushions, continuing to take in the environment in silence.

That was until his silence was interrupted by a familiar rue.

Chrollo stood next to the booth, gently setting down a full glass of whiskey. He slid it towards Kurapika. “Always nice running into you.” He said with a flirtatious tone before taking a sip of his own drink.

Kurapika glanced down at the glass before looking back up at Chrollo, “How did you know my drink preferences?” He asked. Chrollo smirked before sitting down next to Kurapika, “Lucky guess.”

Kurapika picked up the drink, taking a sip before setting it back down. He knew Chrollo’s intentions weren’t good. There was nothing clean about this man but… who was Kurapika to judge in that area of morality? He could protest all he wanted, this was the type of man that he caved for. He knew it was harmful but it was familiar at the least.

“You look good.” Chrollo said, tucking a strand of hair behind Kurapika’s ear.

Kurapika initially moved his head away a bit before looking up at the man, “What is your fascination with me?” He asked with a blunt tone.

“Why wouldn’t I be fascinated?” Chrollo asked, keeping his eyes locked on the blonde.

Kurapika didn’t entirely know how to proceed. He felt like he was close to giving into his urges but there was something about the man’s presence that made that feeling of regret overcome him once again. He knew that he should listen to that feeling but he still chose not to.

Chrollo could sense that Kurapika was choosing to give in. He was not one to miss such an opportunity. He gently placed his hand on Kurapika’s thigh, gliding it up and down gently as the blonde’s skirt fabric followed the motion.

Before he could move in, a voice came from the stage.

“Helloooo ladies and gentleman! You know who we are, I’d hope.” Killua spoke into the microphone, his voice carrying through the bar.

Kurapika looked over and smiled. This is what he came for; the music.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Chrollo said, glancing over at the stage. “They’ve got a long way to go.”

Kurapika looked at him momentarily before dismissing his remark and turning his attention back to the stage.

He was mesmerized by their folk rock sound. Being someone who was going from town to town most of his life, Kurapika had heard all kinds of music but this was different. Big Brother wasn’t just good in sound but pleasant to experience. They looked like they enjoyed what they did.

Kurapika yearned for the day that he found that enjoyment for himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a pair of lips grazing against his neck. Out of habit, Kurapika tilted his head back a bit, allowing the dark haired man next to him to continue his exploration. As the moments went on, Chrollo trailed his lips up to Kurapika’s, kissing him deeply before pulling away by an inch or so.

“What can I do to convince you to come back to my place and break in some records?” He asked the blonde as he raked his fingers through his locks.

“Buy me another drink and I will consider it.” Kurapika said, looking away as he picked up his glass. He polished off the whiskey before setting it down on the table once again and turning his attention back to the stage.

—

A few hours had passed and the local crowd had cleared out of Morel’s to take their drunken nights elsewhere, leaving a select few behind.

Chrollo’s band, The Troupe, had come by. Despite the tension between them and Big Brother at times, they were all pretty close. Frequenting Zep’s parties together, they could consider themselves friends of sorts. They all sat around at one of the bigger tables in the back of the bar, carrying small conversations.

“Killua, you are such an idiot.” Machi remarked with slight agitation.

Killua had been sneaking drinks from the troupe’s table following the performance, gradually getting more intoxicated as the night carried on.

“Come on, Machi. I’m cool! Am I not cool?” he asked, looking at Gon who was currently trying to build a house out of playing cards with Shizuku.

Gon glanced over, “What? Yeah you are cool.” He said, obviously distracted by his task at hand.

Killua rolled his eyes, “You are such a bozo.”

“You’re the bozo!” Alluka said, sitting down next to her brother. “You are flirting with a queer!”

“Who’s queer? Gon?” Killua asked, gesturing over to his friend.

Alluka rolled her eyes at his idiotic remark “No, idiot.”

“Me.” Machi spoke up, staring at Killua from across the table.

Killua looked at the guitarist in question, his drunken mind not seeming to connect the dots right away.

“No way.” He said simply, his expression showing disbelief. “Since when?”

“Since I’ve been munching carpet.” Machi retorted, holding up her hand that was sweetly wrapped around Shizuku’s.

Killua sighed in defeat, “Fuck me, man… Everyone’s queer these days.” He slumped down in his chair, taking another sip of a random glass on the table.

“Who is giving him liquor?” Alluka asked, snatching the glass from his hand.

“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Luka. Jesus.” Killua said, snatching the drink back.

“Hey, Chrollo told me to bring it for everyone, I’m just being generous!” Shalnark spoke up as he approached the table, taking a seat next to Machi.

“Where is Chrollo?” Machi asked, glancing around the room.

“Probably macking on his new toy.” Feitan spoke up from the end of the table before taking a sip of his gin.

Shalnark looked over and let out a hearty laugh, “Fei, I forgot you were even here.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a hand reaching across the table for the bottle of whiskey. Chrollo was standing next to the group, his free arm around Kurapika’s waist. Kurapika was quite intoxicated himself, his head leaning on Chrollo’s shoulder for support.

“Shal, you brought the good shit.” Chrollo said with a smile as he opened the bottle and took a long swig.

“Chrollo. You look good as always. How’s Paku?” Killua asked, taking yet another sip of his drink.

Chrollo’s smile faded as he glanced over at the white-haired guitarist.

“We split.” He responded simply, placing the bottle back down on the table.

Killua let out a surprised gasp, though the sarcasm was more than noticeable, “What?! But you are such a catch!”

“I dumped her, dumbass.” Chrollo bit back with irritation.

Chrollo and Killua never really considered each other close, compared to the rest of the crowd. Chrollo carried a belief that Big Brother couldn’t even touch The Troupe, talent wise, and that never sat well with Killua. He just enjoyed being with his friends and rocking out, appreciating the things they all had in common with each other. Chrollo lacked such appreciation but made up for it with a lot of arrogance.

“Who’s Paku?” Kurapika asked, slowly raising his head to look up at Chrollo with heavy lids.

“Go get us some ice, babe.” Chrollo said, obviously dodging the question.

Kurapika noticed his aversion to the topic but was too drunk to really pry. He nodded and looked towards the bar to see its vacancy.

“Where’s the bartender?” He asked the group.

“In the back probably.” Killua said, gesturing to a door next to the stage.

Kurapika nodded and removed himself from Chrollo’s hold before making his way to the back room. Maneuvering through the tables and chairs, he reached the door. Turning the knob, he peeked his head inside, “Hello?” He spoke softly.

Leorio jumped, letting out a yelp in surprise. “Fuck! God knock first!” He said, clutching the fabric on his chest.

The room was dim, illuminated by a lamp in the corner. The space was decorated with comfortable looking chairs and a big brown couch, some shelving full of miscellaneous items and records, and a record player to match. Leorio was currently rummaging through the record collection, trying to find a good tune to set the mood for the evening.

“What are you doing?” Kurapika asked, opening the door wider.

Leorio took a second look, realizing who was standing in the doorway.

It’s him.

Leorio couldn’t help but take in the blonde’s beauty. He couldn’t even begin to explain to himself what he was feeling whenever Kurapika entered a room. All he knew was that he would dread the day that he wasn’t graced by his presence.

“I-I… I’m just looking for something to listen to.” Leorio said, stuttering over his words a bit.

Kurapika nodded, “Yes but why are you back here? Everyone is out there talking.”

Leorio glanced away, shrugging, “I don’t know, not really feeling the crowd tonight.” He looked back at Kurapika and raised an eyebrow, “Why are you back here?”

Kurapika walked into the room and took a seat on one of the chairs, sinking into the cushions, “Chrollo sent me for ice… This is comfortable.” He said, a small smile appearing on his expression.

Leorio’s heart skipped a bit.

“Yeah, this room is pretty cozy.” He said before slipping a record out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. He slowly dropped the needle as a soothing tune carried through the air.

Kurapika looked over, “Billie Holliday.” He said before pulling himself off the chair.

Leorio looked over and smiled, “Yeah! Felt like a slower kind of night.”

Leorio watched Kurapika approach him, getting more and more nervous as he came closer. Why was he so nervous? He knew why. Kurapika was the literal embodiment of light itself. His flowy attire, his bright complexion, his blonde rays of hair. He was perfect. His voice was smooth and he carried his words well. His footsteps were light and delicate. Completely and utterly perfect in Leorio’s eyes.

Kurapika looked at the records on the shelf before turning back to Leorio, “So you are the bartender? I did not take you for a bartender last time we crossed paths.”

Leorio’s eyes lit up, “You remember me?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” Kurapika asked, genuinely confused by Leorio’s surprise.

“I don’t know, we were at a party and, I mean, everyone is always fucked up at Zep’s… I just assumed.” Leorio said, his words trailing off.

Kurapika nodded, “Well, I was fucked up, but my memory is far from impared.”

Leorio let out a soft chuckle as he sat down on the couch behind him. Crossing his legs and leaning back, he took a deep breath and exhaled, “I’m a partier for sure but, sometimes, I enjoy moments like this.” He said.

Kurapika walked over and sat down next to him, leaving a bit of space between the two, “I enjoy my privacy as well… I guess I am intruding on yours.”

“What? No no! I don’t mind you being here! I think you are cool.” Leorio said, sitting up a bit to look over at the blonde.

Kurapika looked at him and smiled softly, “I think you are cool too, Leorio.”

“Me? Cool?” He looked at him with surprise.

“Yes, you. You have a nice energy to you. Plus, you have bitchin’ taste in music.” Kurapika said in return.

Kurapika liked this, just sitting and talking with someone. He didn’t feel any pressure or discomfort being in a room with Leorio. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this… safe.

The time passed as their conversation carried. They spoke as if they had known each other longer than a couple of weeks, only having met twice now. Kurapika spoke about his times traveling through the south while listening to Leorio’s stories from his youth, growing up in Los Angeles or his random tangents about the impact the blues had on the music scene through the decades.

“Okay but the best place to listen to cassettes is Moonlight cove.” Leorio said, propping his hands up behind his head.

“What is moonlight cove?” Kurapika asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh it's this hidden grassy area on the shore line. The moon hits it perfectly, it’s so relaxing.” Leorio said with a smile.

“Sounds nice.” Kurapika looked up at him.

“I can um… take you there sometime if you want.” Leorio offered nervously. This was a stretch but he would regret not trying to be closer with someone he felt this comfortable around.

Kurapika gave a soft smile and a nod, “Sure. I would love that.”

Suddenly, the door opened up without warning. Chrollo stood in the doorway, his stature giving off an intimidating ambience.

“Peeks, let's go.” He said. He wasn’t asking or suggesting. He spoke with a sense of demand.

Kurapika nodded and stood up. He looked down at Leorio, “I’ll see you around, Leorio.” He said with that same gentle smile that made Leorio lose his breath the first time around.

Leorio nodded “Y-Yeah… I’ll see you.” He said, standing up to watch Kurapika leave.

Once Kurapika made his way out of the room, Leorio caught a glimpse of Chrollo’s glare. He never liked the guy but he suddenly felt that this was now beyond their mutual disinterest in each other. Chrollo was looking at Leorio like he had tampered with his belongings. Like he had moved in on his property. He seemed territorial. Leorio never felt any regret towards spending time with Kurapika but this silent encounter was starting to make him reconsider.

Chrollo broke eye contact and made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him. Leorio sank back down into the couch and heaved a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes and tuned back into Billie’s melodic voice.

—

Chrollo has led Kurapika back to his apartment. It wasn’t the most glamorous sight to see; just about what you’d expect from an up-and- coming rocker. The kitchen was cluttered, the coffee table was full of papers and ashtrays filled past the brim with half smoked cigarettes, and the single bedroom of the flat was littered with clothes and an unkempt bed.

Kurapika didn’t mind. He had lived in worse condition.

The two sat on the bed. Chrollo’s hand trailed up and down Kurapika’s waist as his lips were glued to the blonde’s collarbones.

“You taste so good.” He mumbled against Kurapika’s skin.

Kurapika hummed in false approval as he allowed Chrollo to explore him orally.

After a few moments, Chrollo pulled away, “Do you know what would spice this up?”

Kurapika looked at him and raised an eyebrow, “What would that be?”

Chrollo leaned over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. He pulled out a small baggy and a spoon, holding it up for Kurapika to see, “Wanna get high?”

Kurapika stared at the bag for a moment. His brain was telling him to run, that nothing good was going to come from this. But… When had he ever listened to himself?

He smiled softly and nodded, “Sure.”

Chrollo smiled and grabbed a ripped piece of fabric from the floor. He wrapped it around Kurpika’s arm, tying it tight to bring out his vein. He grabbed his matchbook from his pocket and sat up straight, beginning to get everything ready. Melting the substance over the worn spoon, he grabbed a needle and began to suction the dark liquid into the tube.

“You ready?”

Kurapika hesitated for a moment. Turn back. Leave. Say no.

“Yes.” He nodded.

Chrollo nodded and slowly slipped the needle into his vein. It hit him.

It felt like a rush, but in the calmest way possible. He felt his body get lighter and lighter, his brain slowly quieting down. This was it.

This was the feeling he had been searching for.

Chapter Text

“Gon, you’re like five beats behind, man.” Killua said, stopping mid set to turn back towards the drummer.

It was an average Monday, about eight in the morning. Killua and the others always took a few hours before the bar opened to practice. They really savored the opportunity considering they had just lost their front man.

Alluka rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for whatever bullshit argument that was about to take place was over.

“Hey, maybe you’re five beats ahead. Aren’t you supposed to follow my tempo?” Gon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Killua groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “You gradually speed up the tempo everytime we play this fucking song. Therefore, you are five beats ahead. Slow it down.” He said before turning away to check the tune on his guitar.

On the other side of the bar, behind the counter, was Leorio. He always came in early to clean and make sure the night shift would run smoothly. He also enjoyed being in the company of the kids. Sure, they fought about dumb shit, slacked off, and took frequent toke breaks but he loved them regardless. Leorio was currently counting inventory of all the shelved liquor before hearing Killua and Gon starting their daily bicker.

“Guys, you sound fine.” Leorio called out, not looking up from his notepad.

“Shut up, Leorio, he was behind. We need to get this shit right.” Killua snapped back.

Alluka placed her bass down and looked over at her brother, “What we NEED to do is find a new front man. It’s more stressful when it's just the three of us, plus I know you hate singing, Kil.”

Killua nodded in agreement, “I do hate singing.”

Alluka’s eyes suddenly lit up as a soft smile appeared on her face. Killua immediately caught wind of the change in her demeanor and shut it down before it got out of hand, “No way.”

“Aw, please, Kil?” Alluka clasped her hands together.

“No way! I don’t want drunk people ogling you.” Killua said, putting his guitar down.

Alluka frowned, “Killua, you never let me sing my songs!”

“Yeah because they aren’t the sound we are going for! We are rockers, this isn’t the place for frilly, girly tunes.” Killua said, obviously not budging his stance on the matter.

Alluka sighed, walking off the stage to the back room. She walked in, slamming the door behind her. Gon jumped, looking over at the door before looking back at Killua, “You should be nicer to her. Her songs are fun!”

“I don’t want too much attention on her, and you know damn well why.” Killua said, looking back at his friend. Gon nodded, understanding Killua’s concern.

Alluka was his younger sister, and given the life they have lived, it was understandable why Killua was so protective of her.

They grew up in Berkley, a little suburb outside of San Francisco, with a pretty big family. From Killua’s perspective, growing up in that house was a nightmare. His mother was obsessive and his father was neglectful, leaving plenty of room for troubled children to fester. When Killua was about fifteen, he ran away, taking Alluka with him. Their parents were planning on committing her to an asylum and he wasn’t going to allow it. There was nothing wrong with her. Killua knew she was different but there wasn't any reason to lock her away. She was a good kid and deserved love and, if Killua was the only one who could genuinely provide it, then so be it.

“I’ll go talk to her.” Killua said, walking off the stage to the back room. Gon watched him before getting up as well, making his way over to the bar.

Killua walked into the room to see Alluka sulking on the couch. He sighed, closing the door behind him, “Luka, I’m sorry if I upset you-”

“Why are you such a jerk?!” Alluka snapped at him, “I’m a part of the band too, why don’t you ever let me contribute?”

Killua looked at her for a moment, taking in her words before giving his response. He knew he was being a dick and he hated hurting her. He just couldn’t help worrying. “Alluka, I just get… nervous, I don’t know. I mean I just don’t want people to judge you-”

“Why because I'm split? Because I have different anatomy? Jesus, Killua, I’m not a little kid anymore! I can take care of myself! And, to be completely honest with you, it’s no one’s business! Me singin’ and havin’ fun has no relation to that stuff!” Alluka said in defense. She was right, and Killua knew that. He just gave a simple nod.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Maybe big bro is still getting to me a bit.” He said, sitting down next to her, “I just care about you, Luka.” He said, ruffling her hair gently.

Alluka couldn’t help but smile. He was a bit too much at times but she appreciated that he looked out for her. She knew there was harm that waited for her weaker moments and she wanted to learn how to face it alone but knowing her brother was there was comforting.

“Big bro was a bit overbearing, wasn’t he?” She said, looking up at Killua.

“Overbearing is an understatement. He was batshit. Definitely took after mom.” Killua said, leaning back against the couch.

They  sat in silence for a bit. The siblings never really liked to reminisce on their past, they were just both glad to call it the past.

“Look, Alluka…” Killua broke the silence. “I’ll… Let you run the set tonight… If you want.”

Alluka immediately jumped onto Killua, wrapping her arms around him in a tight, nearly suffocating hug. “OH KIL, THANK YOU!” she exclaimed, “I won’t screw up, I promise!” She said,

Killua groaned, “Okay okay, I trust you.” He said as he hugged her back.

Alluka pulled back a bit, releasing Killua from her hold. “Does this also mean I can go out with Zush after the set?”

“No fucking way.” Killua said, getting up from the couch.

“Kil, come on…”

“If you want to fool around with Zush, I don’t want to hear about it!” He said, walking out of the room. Alluka rolled her eyes and leaned back against the couch in defeat. At least Killua was letting her sing but, geez what a buzzkill.

—

A monday night at Morel’s wasn’t much to talk about but the regulars always managed to come and kick back to the live music.

Alluka was in the back room, pacing. Her nerves were taking over. This was her first time running a set and she didn’t want to disappoint Killua or the crowd.

Gon walked into the room and raised an eyebrow at Alluka, “What’s wrong, Luka?”

Alluka jumped a bit, stopping in her tracks. She looked over to see Gon in his usual attire: Dirty jeans and a tshirt with the sleeves torn off. Typical.

She gave him a nervous smile, “I’m fine just… scared.”

Gon flashed her a big smile and walked towards her, tucking his drumsticks into his waistband, “Don’t be nervous! You are going to do great!”

Alluka’s smile faded a bit as she let out a sigh, “What if I suck… ?”

“You won’t suck! How can you suck if you don’t suck?” Gon asked.

Alluka stared at him with confusion before catching onto what he meant. Weird way to say it but sweet nonetheless. She smiled and hugged him, “Thanks, Gon.” Following the hug, she slowly pulled away with the look of slight disgust, “Please shower tonight.” She pleaded.

Gon let out a hearty chuckle “Sorry, I’ll get on that… “

Killua peeked into the doorway, “Guys, can you get out here? We’re on!” He barked at the two.

Alluka looked at Gon for one last reassuring smile before grabbing her bass and walking out of the room.

Stepping up on the stage was something that confirmed her nerves. All eyes were on her and she couldn’t just turn around and leave. This was a different experience from being on the sidelines of the set. She was front and center for all to see.

Alluka set her bass down on the side of the stage before walking up to the microphone. She felt the heat from the lights as she looked out over the crowd.

“I’m Alluka… “ she started to speak before hesitating as the room went silent. The attention was on her and she did all she could to not get overwhelmed.

“I’m usually the bassist but… today I’m gonna be playing a few songs for you. I hope you like them.” She said sweetly, her voice echoing through the bar. Scattered applause came up from the crowd, causing her nerves to ease a bit. She looked over at Killua, who gave her a reassuring nod. Alluka nodded back in return and, before she knew it, Killua strummed his first note.

Oh, mine eyes have seen the glory… of the theories of Freud.

Her soft and gentle rasp carried over the silence of the room.

He has taught me all the evils that my ego must avoid.

More silence.

Repression of the impulses result in paranoid,

“Woo!” a voice called from the back of the room. Alluka’s eyes followed the vibrations to a familiar face. Zushi, wide smiled, cheering her on. Her nerves finally melted away.

As the id goes marching on!

She started to sing her tune with more enthusiasm. Cheers slowly started to surface as they caught onto her witty lyrics and her newly optimistic presence.

Glory, Glory Psychotherapy!

Glory, Glory Sexuality!

Glory glory, now we can be free,

As the id goes marching on!

Catching onto the rhythm, the crowd began to clap along every time the chorus came around. Alluka was overjoyed. She found happiness in this moment as she continued to sing her song. She loved, not only that the audience found humor in her lyrical wisdom, but also just enjoyed her performance.

Is your body plagued by aches and pains that you can’t understand?

Compound features, ingrown toenails,

Floating kidneys, trembling hands?

There’s a secret to your troubles: You’re in love with your old man!

As the id goes marching on!

The crowd laughed and cheered, clapping and now singing along with Alluka as she finished out the song.

Glory, Glory Psychotherapy!

Glory, Glory Sexuality!

Glory glory, now we can be free,

As the id goes marching on!

As she finished off the song, the crowd stood and cheered for her. She felt her face heat up as she took in the positive feedback. Looking through the swarm of strangers, her eyes landed on Zushi once again, cheering and whistling for her. She could never feel nervous with him around. That’s something she cherished.

—

“Alluka hurry up!” Killua called from the front door of the bar.

“I'm coming!” Alluka called back, zipping her bass into its case.

Hearing footsteps approaching her, she looked up from her task to see Zushi’s smiling face once again.

“You were great!” He said.

Alluka couldn’t help but smile, feeling her cheeks grow warm, “Thanks… I’m glad you came.”

“Oh! I made this for you!” Zushi said, digging around in his pocket. He pulled out a braided thread chain made with pink and green threads, “It’s a little braid for your case! It’s… kind of ugly but I tried.” He said, his expression dropping into a more saddened smile as he handed it to her.

Alluka’s eyes lit up as she took it from him, “It’s so pretty! It has my favorite colors!” she grinned before tying it to her case. She looked back at Zushi and hugged him, “Thank you!” she said before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

His face turned beet red as he pulled away quickly “I-I uhm.. You’re welcome!” He said nervously, trying to not show how much that threw him off.

“Allukaaa! Come ooon!” Killua groaned from the other side of the bar.

“I'M COMING!” she barked at him before turning back to Zushi and flashing one last smile, “I’ll see you Friday, Zush!” she said before picking up her case and walking towards Gon and Killua.

What a good night.

---

Chapter Text

Leorio was never a man to pass up a game of poker. Making money was his specialty and he never backed away from a chance to earn cash. Unless it was with Gon, Alluka, and Killua. The kids were broke a majority of the time. Their hands would start out with a few bills in the pot but, the night would gradually escalate to random shit being bet off from around the apartment; like they didn’t all live together.

Leorio walked into the apartment with a bottle of vodka and his apron in hand. He had just gotten off his closing shift at Morel’s and was tired but usually the others would get his energy up. Nothing like a few rounds of drinks and a night spent reteaching the rules of Texas Hold’ em to Gon.

“Leorio, grab the ice from the kitchen.” Killua said the moment he walked through the door. The kids were sitting around the coffee table, Alluka shuffling the cards while Gon and Killua were going through their wallets to pull out the small amount of loose cash they had.

“Wow, no hello?” Leorio rolled his eyes as he set the vodka down in the middle of the table and went to the kitchen. “Just got off the clock and I’m still workin’.”

“Hey man, it’s not working if it’s for your friends!” Killua called out as he slammed a couple of fives onto the table, “Okay Gon, how much you got?”

Gon rummaged through his wallet, “I've got… a twenty! and… “ He put his wallet down and dug through his pockets, “three quarters… and some caramels.” He laid his pile out next to Killua’s.

“Where the fuck did you get a twenty from?” Killua asked.

“My aunt Mito! She still sends me an allowance sometimes.” Gon said, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

“What is an allowance?” Alluka asked, starting to deal out the cards.

“It’s just money that she gives me every month to help me out.” Gon grabbed his cards and looked at them.

“Man, why don’t we get an allowance…?” Alluka pouted as she dealt a spot for Leorio.

“You did. Your allowance was negligence, congratulations.” Killua said, picking up his cards.

Alluka rolled her eyes and looked at her dealt hand.

Leorio walked over to the table with four iced glasses and sat down criss-cross between Alluka and Gon, “Okay, what are we playing?” He asked, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“Texas Hold’em.” Killua said, looking over at him.

Leorio said and ran his fingers through his hair, “Dude, Gon is never gonna get this game. Why do we keep playing?”

“Gon doesn’t get any games we play, are you in or not?” Killua retorted.

Leorio nodded, “Yeah, I’m in.” He threw a couple twenties into the pile.

As the night went on, drinks were made and rounds were won. Leorio got the pot a majority of the time, followed by Killua and Alluka a couple times as well. Gon didn’t win shit but no one was surprised by that fact. Leorio enjoyed it when he got to spend time with everyone whether it was watching their sets, kicking back at the bar, or at one of their places of residence. He didn’t say it often, especially not to Killua given how weird he was with emotions, but Leorio loved them like family. They felt like siblings he never had. Well… He had siblings, but he wasn’t close with them. Not since he moved away from home.

That was something that he always had mixed feelings about: Leaving. He knew his mom was sad about it and he knew his dad couldn’t give less of a shit. Maybe he was just more regretful when it came to his mom. He just couldn’t stay in that home anymore. In that neighborhood. In that town. Not after-

Don’t think about it.

He looked back up from his cards at the group.

Not now.

He couldn’t get hung up on the past right now. He can’t let his thoughts get out of hand. Leorio was with his friends having a good time and he wanted to enjoy the moment. He continued to smile through conversation, hoping the thought would fade. What has him looming over the situation done for him other than ruin his mood completely?

Stop thinking about it.

Would he have come if he asked him to?

Think about anything else!

It was like looking at the people in front of him made him remember the ones he left behind. Guilt filled his mind, causing his chest to tighten. It was as if he didn’t have a choice but to think about it. His voice. His face.

Not his face. Any other face but his.

He begged himself to think about anyone else. Anyone. And, like a saving grace, there was a new face in his mind’s eye.

Long golden blonde locks. Delicate, slightly tanned skin. Almond brown eyes, a modest bridged nose that broadened out towards the nostrils, and middling lips that looked soft to the touch.

Leorio felt the tightness in his chest release slowly as the imagery became more clear. He couldn’t even begin to describe how comforting just the thought of him felt.

Beautiful.

It was an understatement. Kurapika’s beauty couldn’t be defined by a single word and Leorio felt like a fool for thinking this deeply about it. He couldn’t help it.

“Leorio.”

He has had his fair share of infatuations. Back when he was in college, he was always after some girl in the med program.

“Leorio!”

This was different. Kurapika was different. He didn’t know how, he just knew that he was.

Suddenly, Leorio’s thoughts were interrupted by a peanut to the face.

“Fuck! What?!” Leorio snapped, flinching at the flying object.

He looked up to see all three of them staring at him with confusion.

“It’s your hand, Leorio.” Alluka said, “Me and Gon folded.”

“What? Oh… Right.” He looked down at his cards, confused by what was going on considering he was mentally distant. Killua put his cards faced down, his eyebrow raised in question, “What's wrong with you? Are you high?” He asked Leorio.

“What? No. I’m just… Thinking.” He said with a pondering expression.

“About what?” Gon asked.

Leorio stayed quiet for a moment. He didn’t know how to approach this topic with them. Sure, they all talk about love at some point or another. Alluka was always blabbing about Zush and Gon’s elevated influence never stopped him from expressing his “brotherly” love for Killua but… It just felt odd to bring up.

“Do you guys know that guy that’s been hanging around the troupe recently?” Leorio finally spoke up. The three exchanged looks before Killua gave a response, “Who, the blonde hippie?”

Leorio gave a slow nod, “Yeah. Him.”

“Uhm… I mean, I know him and Chrollo are makin’ it but… I don’t know, I’ve never spoken to him.” Killua said, thinking a bit on the subject, “Why are you asking?”

Alluka looked at Leorio, studying his silent hesitation towards the topic before a big grin appeared on her face. “Oh. My. God.”

Leorio looked at her, “What?”

“You dig him!” She exclaimed, causing Killua and Gon to look at her before slowly landing their gaze upon Leorio once again.

“What?! N-No-”

“You totally do!”

Killua started to laugh, “What, you’re queer?”

“Yeah? So what if I was, asshole?” Leorio snapped back.

Was he? He knew he wasn’t straight. It didn’t bother him. He just hadn’t really felt this way about a man since… 

Stop.

“Hey, nothing against it! You love who you love, man.” Killua said, throwing his hands up in defense. Leorio rolled his eyes. He knew Killua wasn’t judging him, he just hated being put on the spot, “Okay maybe I do… Like him.”

Alluka squealed, clapping her hands together in excitement, “Oh yay! What do you like about him?” She asked, leaning forward. She was intrigued by the subject of the conversation and it was making Leorio nervous.

“I just… Think he’s cool, I don’t know.” Leorio shrugged.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Gon asked, taking a hit of his joint and passing it to Killua.

Killua accepted the joint and took a drag before chiming back in, “I don’t think you should talk to him.” He said. His expression wasn’t that of a joking matter, but more serious, “Chrollo would fucking kill you, man. He’s found his prey, you can’t interfere.”

“I hate that you say it like that… '' Alluka said with a look of disgust, “But I know you are right. Chrollo would be upset.”

Leorio sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. Killua was right and, if what he said didn’t confirm it, that look Chrollo gave him the other night at Morel’s definitely did. Leorio hated that man. He hated the way he treated people, and to think that Kurapika was in his hold was something that brought him worry.

“Chrollo is such a dick.” Leorio said, growing more frustrated as he thought about the situation.

“I agree. We should kill him.” Killua said, laughing, “Or like… I don’t know, beat him up.”

“Gladly… “ Leorio mumbled in response.

Suddenly, the landline started to ring. Alluka got up and answered, putting on a sweet smile, “Zoldyck-Freecs residence!” She said, twirling the phone cord around her finger. The other three looked over at her as she listened to the voice from the other line. Her face lit up with excitement, “Okay!” she said before hanging up the phone and hurrying to the door.

“Zush is at the payphone outside, I’ll only be a minute!” She said as she ran out the door.

“That little shit… “ Killua grumbled before throwing his cards on the table and following Alluka out of the apartment. Leorio watched the two leave before looking at Gon who was already lighting another joint and laying back on the ground. He sighed and placed his cards down, resting his head in his hands. Leorio could only think about Kurapika now.

I hope he’s okay.

Chapter Text

The heat from the window spread across Kurapika’s face. He opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust, though it took longer than usual. The view was blurry and bright. Opening his eyes anymore than a millimeter was pure torture. His body felt heavy, his hair clung to his face. He just wanted to open his eyes. One thing at a time. He could hear a faint snore coming from behind him which is when he then realized that he was physically restricted by a warm arm wrapped around his waist. He had no idea what time it was, what day it was. All he had gathered was that he was in bed with someone.

Gathering all his strength, he removed the person’s arm and pulled himself up into a sitting position. Looking around the room with a narrow gaze, he started to collect his thoughts. He was in Chrollo’s apartment. He remembered he came over after their time at the bar. That's all he remembered. He looked down to see the bundled bedsheets draping off his nude figure. How many times was he going to go through this to learn something? Shacking up with strangers, getting so fucked up he couldn’t see. Or remember.

Kurapika crawled out of the bed, stretching out his limbs as his posture straightened out. He looked around the room before laying his eyes upon a bundled up t-shirt on the floor amongst others. It wasn’t his but he didn’t have a clue where his clothes were so it would have to make do. He pulled it over his head, the bottom hem just reaching above his upper thigh. It smelt like old spice and musk, not that it was off putting. He glanced over to the bed to see a covered Chrollo passed out, sheets draped over his lower half. Kurapika didn’t feel good at the sight but he didn’t know if it was the scenario or the fact that his body aches were growing worse by the minute. He looked away and stepped over piles of belongings, walking through the beaded curtain over the doorway to head over to the kitchen.

Looking around, his eyes fell upon a coffee pot. It was half full with old coffee, definitely cold and bitter. He walked over and picked up the pot, dumping it out in the sink. He continued to make a fresh pot, looking around for the necessities to do so. Waiting for the coffee to brew, he walked over and sat down at the dining room table. His memory was crumbling as he tried to recall anything after coming back here that night. The more he thought, the more his head hurt. He felt sick, cold, and tired. He couldn’t help but sit there and ridicule himself. A lifetime of mistakes followed him and he never took the lessons he learned into consideration. He liked to live freely, make his own decisions, but the guilt was never far behind. It was like he was playing a long game of tag. A game that won’t seem to end.

Pathetic.

It felt like years before the coffee finished brewing. Kurapika walked over and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. He filled them to the brim before carefully carrying them back to the bedroom. Approaching the bed, he reached his foot out and tapped Chrollo’s leg, “Hey.”

Chrollo groaned in response before slowly turning his body to see Kurapika standing over him with two piping hot mugs of joe. He sat up and ran his fingers through his greasy black hair, his eyes barely open as he reached out for the mug, “Black?”

Kurapika nodded, handing the mug to him while taking a sip of his own. He felt Chrollo’s arm wrap around his waist, slowly pulling him down next to him. Chrollo pulled his lips away from the mug and began to lazily leave kisses against Kurapika’s shoulder, “You smell good.”

“I smell like you, this is your shirt.” Kurapika said, setting his mug down on the floor. Chrollo set his mug down on the nightstand and pulled Kurapika onto his lap, gliding his hands back and forth against his hips, “Nice to wake up to you.” He said with a tired smile.

Kurapika looked at him and managed a small smile in return, “What time is it?”

Chrollo glanced over to the clock on the wall, “eight thirty.” He said as he leaned his face into the crook of Kurapika’s neck. He trailed his hands up Kurapika’s shirt, wrapping his arms around his waist, “You are so warm.”

Kurapika gently pushed the man’s hair back out of his face, “I feel sick… “

“You want me to fix you up?” Chrollo mumbled against his skin.

He remembered. It’s probably been days since that night. He didn’t want to do it again, the pain he was feeling at the moment was unpleasant. Yet, the feeling he could remember. How quiet everything was. How light he felt.

He didn’t feel that guilt that followed him.

“I shouldn’t. I need to go back to the motel.” Kurapika said, pulling away a bit. Chrollo looked at him, lifting his head up, “You should just stay here.” He said, pushing some hair out of Kurapika’s face. Kurapika raised an eyebrow. Stay? Why? No one has ever asked him to stay before. If anything, he always overstayed his welcome. “Why?” He asked.

“Because I want you to.” Chrollo said, starting to leave kisses on Kurapika’s exposed collarbones.

He wanted him to stay? Kurapika felt confused. Someone wanted him around. Sure, he had friends through the years, he made good memories, but no one had ever asked him to stay when it was time for him to go.

“Get out of that shitty motel and just come stay with me.” Chrollo continued on his path to convince the blonde. “You can play your Johnny Cash all day long if you want.”

Kurapika thought for a moment, taking in Chrollo’s pleading gaze. How could he say no? He had no reason to. He didn’t belong to any place, person, or thing. He came to San Francisco to call it home, maybe this was the chance he was hoping for.

“Okay.” Kurapika said, “But I need to get my stuff.”

Chrollo smiled and pulled Kurapika down against the mattress, kissing his lips with vicious intent. For the first time, Kurapika kissed back with genuine intent, not just because he felt forced to. Maybe this was where he was supposed to be. Maybe this was what he was looking for.

—

It was about 10:00 PM. Kurapika had moved his items into Chrollo’s apartment, what little he owned. A couple journals, some cassette tapes, and a bag of clothes that he had purchased following his move to the city.

He sat on the couch, rummaging through one of his journals as he watched Chrollo bang on the television as if it was going to make the reception any better. Once a channel turned on, Chrollo made his way over to the couch, a lit cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He sat down next to Kurapika and removed the cigarette, blowing smoke, “What is that?”

Kurapika looked up at him before looking back at the notebook, “Oh I write songs sometimes. Just a place to put pen to paper.” Chrollo’s eyebrows raised in interest, “You compose? No shit?”

Kurapika nodded, “Yeah, sometimes. Why, you interested?”

Chrollo let out a soft chuckle, taking another drag from his cigarette, “What do you write about?”

He wrote about anything and everything. Even if it was single lines, simple words, he wrote what he knew. What he saw. What he felt.

“That’s such a broad question.” Kurapika said. “What do you write about?” He repeated back to Chrollo, seeing if the man could provide an answer. Chrollo shrugged, leaning back against the couch, “When you're high, you can write about damn near anything. Though, I can come up with my shit on the spot if I want to.” he said. He put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the table before getting up and grabbing his guitar from the bedroom.

“I actually wrote a song for you.” He said, walking back over to sit down. Kurapika watched him, raising an eyebrow at his statement. He felt a strange feeling in his chest, “You did?” He asked.

“Yeah, I'm gonna demo it to our agent. Want to hear?” Chrollo asked, picking a guitar pick up off the table. “Play it.” Kurapika said, setting his notebook down on the table and turning his full attention to the man before him.

Chrollo tuned up his acoustic and began to play.

You know that it would be untrue

You know that I would be a liar

If I was to say to you

Girl, we couldn't get much higher

His voice was soothing but raspy. He carried that tone that suited the blues to their core. Kurapika couldn’t help but close his eyes for a moment to listen to the tune. The best way to enjoy music was to feel it.

Come on, baby, light my fire

Come on, baby, light my fire

Try to set the night on fire

Chrollo continued to play and Kurapika continued to relish in the gesture. Someone wrote him a song. Someone thought about him for longer than a passing moment.

When the song finished, Kurapika granted Chrollo a pleased smile, “When we met.” was all he said. Chrollo knew he understood the meaning of the song and knew he was getting further with the blonde’s growing infatuation. Kurapika knew this could still be a game to him, but he said all the right things. He was willing to play along.

Kurapika stood up and walked over to Chrollo, slowly taking the guitar out of his hands and setting it down on the couch. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down to his height, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Chrollo took the opportunity to grab Kurapika by his waist, turning the soft, meaningful embrace into something predacious. Before it was comprehended, the two ended up in the bedroom, sitting on the bed, still locked in each other’s holds. Chrollo pulled away, his breath heavy, looking Kurapika up and down.

“Wanna get high?” He asked.

Kurapika nodded, “Yeah, sounds nice.” He said, huffing between words. Chrollo opened the drawer on his nightstand and pulled out the necessities. He leaned in and placed multiple kisses on Kurapika’s jawline before tying off the blonde’s bicep. Kurapika watched him melt down the substance, fear growing in his chest. Yet, that fear didn’t last long, as anticipation followed. That feeling. He wanted to feel it again.

Chrollo eased the needle into Kurapika’s vein, causing him to wince slightly. Then it hit him. It all came rushing back. His head felt light, his body felt weightless. He could feel Chrollo’s lips trailing up his arm as he untied the tie off.

Kurapika leaned up against Chrollo, his eyelids growing heavy. He felt arms wrap around his body, lowering him to the pillows. Gods, he felt like he was in heaven. He wished he could always feel this way. So relaxed. So… happy. He looked up at the ceiling, allowing himself to wallow in this experience. It felt like a luxury, like he almost didn’t deserve to feel this good.

After a few long moments passed, he felt Chrollo lie down next to him, pulling him close. He felt warm fingers grazing against his temple to push his blonde strands behind his ear. Kurapika looked at him, barely able to comprehend anything in the moment beyond what he felt.

Everything disappeared. His faults. His pain. His parents. His home. His nightmares. His guilt. He finally knew what it felt like to have not gone through anything at all.

He wondered if this was what freedom felt like.

—

It was a Wednesday night at The Tavern. The Troupe was getting ready to go on and Kurapika sat at a table by the stage, anticipating their set.

He was high. There was no question about it. Time seemed slow, the chatter of the crowd seemed more quiet than usual. Kurapika took a sip of his drink, heavy lids maneuvering around the room. Drunk people chatting, drinking, laughing. He always wondered what it was like in other people’s minds. How did they feel about the positions they were in, the people they were with? Are they sad? Do they hide it? Are they guilty?

Do they miss something? Someone?

Kurapika wished for the chance to be someone else. To know what it was like to carry different burdens, different pasts, different weights. Anything other than his own. He didn’t want to remember right now. Not while he felt so good.

“Ladies and gentlemen, The Troupe!” A voice can from the speakers.

Kurapika looked up to see him. Standing just as tall as he was that first night they locked eyes. That night he was riddled with regret, he couldn’t feel it anymore. Maybe it was still there but it was so quiet. Someone gave him a place to stay, to belong. Why would he regret it? He knew it wouldn’t be the last time he questioned himself on the matter. He pushed it back, coming to reality. He clapped along with the rest of the crowd, flashing a soft smile to the man before him.

Chrollo locked eyes with him and flashed him a wink before the tunes kicked off.

Well, she's fashionably lean

And she's fashionably late

She'll never rank a scene

She'll never break a date

But she's no drag

Just watch the way she walks

Kurapika closed his eyes, like he did back at the apartment. The music filled his ears as he started to sway with it. His voice was so raspy and powerful. He had no doubt in his mind that Chrollo was good at what he did and he could persuade an audience well. He was a man who could get whatever he wanted. Kurapika knew that the moment they met.

No tears, no fears

No ruined years, no clocks

She’s a twentieth century fox, oh yeah!

Kurapika opened his eyes to see Chrollo glancing down at him. He flashed a tired smile up at the man, still swaying to the tune. Right now, he was convinced this was the best place for him to be.

'Cause she's a twentieth century fox

She's a twentieth century fox

Good music. Good dope. A man who wanted him around.

Got the world locked up

Inside a plastic box

She's a twentieth century fox, oh yeah

It could easily fall apart.

Twentieth century fox, oh yeah

It could mean nothing. It could all be a game.

Twentieth century fox

Even if that were the case,

She's a twentieth century fox

He deserved it, right?