Tease

{ In Too Deep (If You Know What I Mean) }

a/n: Two things: 1) This fic is not sponsored by Apple, and 2) Gon completely abandoned his laundry on Friday to help Killua with his postcoital dysphoria, and I think that's beautiful.

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"I've had this sort of... guilt complex associated with doing nice things for myself. I mean, doing things by myself, I guess. I always used to do things with Kurapika because I never wanted to just do nice things for myself... by myself. I always had to do it with other people. And I've just found that mindset really toxic—for me, anyway. It might work better for other people, and I wish I could blame it on my extrovertedness, but I don't think that's it."

"I can understand that," Retz said.

Gon scowled at her and said, "I've already talked about this with you."

"I can understand that," Killua said, which earned him a glare in return. "No, really! I used to have that same mindset. I'd wind up going on dates because it gave me an excuse to 'treat myself' and take a break for once. It's like... you can't mark on your calendar that you're gonna bum around for an entire evening and go to sleep at three in the morning, but you can mark a date."

"Dates don't equal validity," Retz offered, and Killua snapped his fingers at her as if to say, Bingo.

"Yeah, I guess," Gon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

They were waiting in the bustling Apple store for Killua's laptop. Killua took a seat on one of the wooden stools and clasped his hands together between his knees, watching the way Gon passed his hand up through his hair and back again.

"I don't know. Whenever I think about trying something new, I just think, 'Oh, I need to do this with someone.' With Kurapika, usually," Gon confessed.

"How long have you two been friends?" Killua asked, perching his feet on the stool spokes.

"Since freshmen year," he said.

"You and Kurapika are so cute together," Retz gushed, hands clasped beneath her chin. She merely beamed when Gon turned another scowl onto her and hissed, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"I used to always think that my free nights or weekends were reserved for Zushi and dates," Killua confessed, propping his chin up on his hand. Gon turned back to him, an eyebrow raised, and Killua shrugged. "I always had a few guys around who'd be down to fuck on a Thursday or Saturday or whatever."

"Who?" Gon asked.

"Wow," Retz said. "You're an icon. I mean, same here, but still an icon."

"Don't encourage it," Gon said.

"Remember what happened the last time I told you not to tell me what to do?" Retz threatened, a hand on her hip.

When the store employee returned with a thick-as-hell Apple brand bag, Killua turned away from Gon's flushed cheeks and Retz' obvious God complex. He took the bag from the employee, who spent a minute too long checking Retz out. Killua couldn't blame him—Retz dressed like a goddamn fashion blogger living in LA. He didn't doubt that her brands were bougie, but something told him that every last piece of her ensemble was thrifted from upscale Greenwich Village resale stores.

Retz smiled at the employee, pointed a manicured finger at Gon, and said, "He's paying today."

"R-Right," the employee stammered, eyes wide. He looked half-terrified when Gon turned to him and passed over a credit card, which took approximately three tries to scan before the guy turned the pad over to Gon and said, "S-Sign here, please."