Tease

{ Honey, You've Got A Big Storm Coming }

It started with a simple statement.

"Hey, I should give you my Snapchat."

Gon ceased all motor function. He looked up from his notebook and glanced over at Killua, who had his chin propped up on his hand, his elbow to the measly little desk attached to the lecture seat. Gon passed his tongue over his lips, glanced away, and back again. "What?" he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Killua rolled his eyes to the front of the class. The professor had her back to them writing their midterm information on the whiteboard. "I said, we should exchange Snapchats. I mean, texting is fine and all but..." I want to see your face? he thought, unable to voice it out loud.

They had exchanged numbers the first week of classes. It was the third week now and they had already watched seven movies together—both with and without Kurapika as their chaperone. Without Kurapika, Killua had somehow managed to keep it in his pants by one simple strategy: Calling Gon his 'bro', or whatever it is the straight, frat boys said these days. It was the biggest turn off of the century for Killua.

"I... don't have a Snapchat," Gon said, eyes returning to his paper.

Killua stared at his profile, but Gon was back to copying down the midterm information. "What do you mean you don't have Snapchat?" Killua whisper-shouted. He was too shocked to think of anything other than the fact that Snapchat wasn't, in fact, somewhere on Gon's phone.

"I don't know," Gon said, helpless. He shrugged and shook his head. "I just... don't have it."

"Oh," Killua huffed. He looked away, only to turn back and ask, "What about Instagram?"

"You know, I'm not really big on social media?" Gon said with another shrug, glancing sparingly at Killua. It was the first time they had ever aggressively differed—not even Killua's absurd distaste in gym culture could compare to how bizarre it was to have this conversation with Gon. And here he thought he and Gon were one and the same—albeit, as two completely different races.

"You're not—" Killua started, but at that moment, their professor dismissed the class and everyone was scrambling to get the Hell out for the weekend. The sound of chairs flipping up and collapsing drowned out whatever he was going to say, and Gon was already throwing his shit into his backpack haphazardly. It felt very much like a getaway, so Killua didn't even stand when Gon got to his feet.

"I gotta run. I'll talk to ya later?" Gon said, putting a hand up to his cheek like he was answering a phone. He smiled, and somehow Killua just knew that Gon knew just how much his smile resembled kryptonite.

"'Kay," Killua said, breathless.

Gon gave him a thumbs up and hurried off, jogging down the steps of the lecture hall and out through the door flooded with students. Killua slumped over his puny desk and groaned miserably into the lined pages of his notebook. Even Gon's ass looks good, he thought after catching a glimpse of it in the crowd.

He straightened after a moment and set to work packing up. The lecture hall thinned out until it was just him and a handful of students asking the professor questions up front. It took longer than expected for him to brush off the awkward feeling he had from being told no by Gon. It felt wrong for Gon to not have a social media—like he was committing some sort of injustice by keeping his attractiveness in a local sphere, limited to New York City.

Killua sighed. I really have no say in it. We've only known each other for three weeks, he told himself. Still, he felt giddy from the fact that he had somehow scored Gon's friendship despite being as awkward as a goddamn platypus. Gon still sat next to him in lecture, even after all this time. If Gon didn't like him, he would have stopped talking to Killua ages ago.