Just A Little Longer In the Sun

Killua and Gon. Gon and Killua. Inseparable, undefeatable forces. Forever locked in a waltz of drift.

Killua was alone tonight, wandering the little town. Gon had convinced him to go on a fishing trip. He hated fishing, but he loved fishing with Gon. He loved more than fishing.

Killua stopped at fountain in the middle of a town square. The moonlight glanced off the marble and stone as the tranquility of the twilight was disturbed only by the soft trickling and gurgling of the water. It was far too late for children to be awake. But Killua had never really been a child anyway.

He ran his hand through the pond of clear, clean water. It was cold to the touch. Filled with foreign change, their metal imprinted with stupid foolish dreams that would never come to pass. I wish for happiness, I wish for her to get better, I wish she liked me, I wish he'd kiss me the ghosts of lost wishes whispered. Me too he thought. He made figure eights with his long, nimble fingers. They were so pale, so small, and yet the horrors they had committed. He had held men's lives in the palm of his hand, played God for only a moment, and decided as a judgment council of one, that they were not worthy. Swift, sweet, quiet. But now, they just looked like hands not weapons. Now, they cupped and splashed regular, cool water not thick, crimson, blood. Now, he just looked like a child playing in a fountain, up past his bedtime, smaller than he'd ever been. The water was so cold it hurt his hands but he didn't dare take them out. The ripples distorted his reflection. How did they manage to keep it so clear? He wondered absentmindedly. He was talking about more than just the water.

Gon. Gon was on his mind tonight. Gon was always on his mind. He was just so bright. His light seared Killua's skin and burned his eyes, but he would never look away. Afraid to blink and lose it. Gon was a child. He was full of innocence and purity and perfection. Killua was so dirty. He didn't deserve the light. He would chase after it though, warm and safe. A place to let down his defences. Gon was home. Gon was sunlight filtering through the windows left open all night. Gon was the scent of cinnamon in a cake going into the oven celebrating nothing but simply being alive today. Gon was bright, infectious smiles when it was way too early to be smiling. Gon was the leftover warmth of shared sheets. Gon was laughing until your cheeks and abs were sore and then taking a nap never needing a blanket cause your sunburn kept you warm. Gon was contagious. Gon was beautiful. He was everything Killua was not. Is it selfish I want to stay in his glow for just a little longer Killua wondered.

Killua was beyond repair. So goddamn broken. Gon wouldn't like his scars, the ugly ones on his back and his wrists and his neck. From collars and shackles and fights with foes, friends, and himself. That black turtle neck was his favorite for a reason. They were such opposites. The sun and the moon. Forever locked in a dance of chase. The night hopelessly chasing the morning light for just one minute in the bright warmth. Killua wanted to bask in Gon's sunlight for just a little while longer. To stay in his bed for just 5 more minutes. Play just one more game. But, he knew he wasn't allowed. Gon was destined for better people than Killua. One day Gon would open the curtains for someone else in the morning. He would give that wonder-filled smile to someone else. He would race someone else through the deep woods. Wake someone else up from their nightmares and hold their shaking form close to him. And they would be able to return it full force. Killua could never be what the sun himself needed. He had been broken long ago, he couldn't hold that much light in his hands. They were too frail and bruised. Gon's were so strong, firm, steady. Gon was so strong and firm and steady.

Killua would burn up in Gon's supernova. He would stand in the flames until they consumed him, claimed him. They would lick at his wounds and caress his cheeks and sweep him away. He would enjoy it. Because it was Gon's warmth. And he would follow that to the ends of the Earth.

Killua took his hands out of the fountain and dried them on his shorts. He brushed stray white hair behind his ears and looked up. He craved to see those stupid green shorts and spiky hair looking at him with bright eyes. No one ever looked at him like that. Like he was something worth looking at. With honest affection. No one but Gon. Killua could use one of those looks right now. He wished for Gon's strong arms and his firm chest. He wanted to hear the beat of his heart to prove to himself Gon was real. That he wasn't going anywhere. But it was just Killua tonight. The terracotta roof tiles started back at him hollowly. The cobblestones had no secrets to tell. The stars were silent. There was no Gon. That's for the better. No one, Gon especially, should have to see you as pathetic as this. Not their problem Killua reminded himself.

He only had one idea left. It was hopeless and dumb and childish, but then again, Killua was supposed to be a child. He fished out a coin from his pocket,. It was bumpy at the edges and smooth on top. He brought it to his lips, and whispered so that no one else but the water and the gods above could hear his plea, I wish... He began, I wish I was worthy of love...of his love . He added with a breath. And just like that flipped the coin into the fountain of lost hope. It made an anticlimactic thunk and sunk to the bottom with all the other rusting change. Killua stayed a minute and watched the ripples slowly die out before promptly turning around. The night air was crisp and fresh. He tucked his hands in his pockets and headed back to his home, hoping for just a little while longer under Gon's stars.

Little did he know, a green clad boy was crouched in the bushes watching Killua walk away. Confusion etched on his face.