Killua was beyond desperate. He was so desperate, in fact, that he nearly got Kurapika on the phone to call off the date. Logic caught up to him fast, though. If he did that, he was just admitting to Kurapika that he knew Gon, and that Gon had the potential to ruin his life. He wasn't quite sure what Kurapika would do with that information, but it couldn't be good.

And now he had a stage that night, all thanks to Kurapika bailing for the date.

I need to bail, too , he realized. How could he work when Kurapika was off on a date with his roommate? Kurapika! God, Killua wanted to punch him in the nuts so badly. Instead of doing that, he called up dancers who had contracts with Chrollo and tried to get one to cover for him.

He spent the morning on his way to class making calls and borderline-begging for someone to fill his stage. When that was sorted out, he called up Chrollo to confirm the changes.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know that I won't be filling Kurapika's stage tonight," Killua said, and gave the name of the dancer who would be filling the stage.

Chrollo sighed and said, " Alright, I'll put it on the schedule. You two really have to stop giving me the run-around on this shit. "

"Hey, I rarely ask off," Killua insisted, and he could practically hear Chrollo rolling his eyes. "And if anything you can thank Kurapika for this. That rat bastard is going on a date with my roommate so I gotta be on high alert."

" Well, have fun with that. I'll see you tomorrow, " Chrollo said, and hung up.

Killua put his phone in his lap, relief lulling through him on the bus seat. His expectations for that day had dramatically shifted, and it left his brain exhausted before the day could begin.

Killua sat through studio with his eyes trained on his professor. Every so often, his scowl unintentionally gravitated towards the back of Gon's head. He wanted to throw something at him. Maybe a pen? Killua wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was so damn pissed that Gon was even into 22-year-olds. Why did Gon set his Tinder age-range to 22?

For a brief stint there, Killua had set his Tinder to 22... Maybe a 22-year-old had a full-time job! It'd be great if he didn't have to pay for dates, if he was being honest... But that didn't change the fact that they were freshmen and Kurapika—were he in university—would be graduating.

Killua shook his head. It was hypocritical of him to scorn Gon for this when he, himself, had a crush on Kurapika no more than a year ago.

Studio ended, and Killua didn't realize it until he saw Gon packing up. Killua hastily slung his backpack over his shoulder and stood, keeping Gon's spikey black hair at the corner of his eye. He followed at a great distance—at least half of the class between them upon exiting—and continued at that distance out of the building and down the sidewalk.

Gon was walking with Knuckle, who had the build of a goddamn gymnast—stocky, buff, but with a narrow waist and, oddly enough, defined calves. It was easier, though, to keep his eyes on Knuckle since the guy stood a whole head taller than Gon.

At the lights, Gon paused to wait for the crosswalk and waved farewell to Knuckle, who slapped him on the back. Killua heard the distant, "Good luck on your date!" before Knuckle jogged off towards the USFC track arena.

Killua slowed at the corner of the street. They were across the road from the parking structure, just a block away from his bus stop, and Killua cursed internally. Gon had a car. Killua couldn't follow Gon in a car—unless—

Gon let out a startled scream, slapping a hand to his chest. Killua looked at him as Gon gasped out, "God, you scared me. I didn't know you were standing there."

Killua huffed and glared down the sidewalk, back in the direction of the studio building. Their classmates weren't around, but there were plenty of sophomores and juniors lingering at this time of day.

They waited in silence. Gon picked at his nails, anxiously, as the adjacent walksign ticked 3... 2... 1...

They started to cross.

Gon glanced hesitantly at Killua before skipping ahead—Killua had said that he didn't want to be seen with Gon, so Gon decided to respect that boundary. He walked ahead at a brisker pace, and Killua followed at his heels. When two footsteps echoed in the concrete structure, Gon glanced over his shoulder and found Killua a few paces back, arms crossed, annoyed.

Gon hurried a little more. He reached his car at a jog, and after ducking into the driver's seat, Gon put his head to the wheel and thought about how, the last time he had seen Killua in the parking structure, Killua had been spotted pulling a cigarette out of the mouth of some attractive stranger.

Maybe he's seeing that person again? Gon wondered. He gasped a little, bolting upright. Maybe his date the other night was with that person!

The passenger door opened.

Gon froze in fear of a complete stranger hopping into his vehicle, only to relax when he recognized Killua's bleached hair. The instant he let his guard down, though, he was squeaking again at the realization that Killua was in his car .

"Wh-What are you doing!" Gon cried, heat blooming in his cheeks. "I-I thought—um—you said—"

"You're going to the apartment, right?" Killua said, and if Gon wasn't, Gon felt like Killua might maim him. He would have lied and said he was, if that was the case.

"Y-Yeah—"

"Same. Might as well drive me there, too," Killua said, and punctuated the statement by buckling his seatbelt. Killua was supremely relieved that Gon was even going back to the apartment. The situation would have been far more awkward then.

Killua crossed his arms as Gon set the car in reverse and backed out of the spot, a slim smile on his lips. In his triumph, Gon couldn't hold back the shiteating grin on his face. Killua wanted to carpool from campus and by God, Gon would deliver.

"So..." Gon started, a pleased hum in his voice. "How's your day?"

"We've literally had the same day so far."

"But, like... do you work tonight?"

"Yeah, I work tonight," Killua lied.

"You never mentioned where you work—"

"I work at a bar," he said, and it was as close to the truth as he could get.

Gon wanted to slap himself. A bar! That was why Killua had such weird hours! He'd have to report back to Zushi and Knuckle and offer it as a suggestion for Killua's place of work. Here he had been picturing Killua in scrubs working a night shift at a retirement home.

"As, like... a bartender?"

"Why're you so interested?" Killua said, and Gon shrugged.

"I don't know. I mean, we live together. I guess I should know a bit about you."

"Yeah, well, I could say the same for you," Killua huffed, and Gon wondered if the guy was serious about that. He blushed, just a little, and it was quickly stamped out by Killua muttering, "Definitely not interested to know, though."

"Geez, okay," Gon grumbled as he made a right turn down their street. "If you ever do want to know—about me, I mean—I'm an open book. Just ask."

"I won't," Killua said. He glanced at Gon and said, "Ask, I mean."

Gon's shoulders slumped. He felt like a slug. "No need to be mean about it..." he said.

He pulled the car into the lot behind the building and, once there, parked the vehicle and shut the car off. Gon was busy fetching his guitar from the back seat, so Killua beat him to the door and didn't hold it for him. Gon ran up to the door just as it shut and locked, and Gon groaned furiously—wasn't it common courtesy to hold doors for the next person?

Gon wrestled with the keys in his pocket, juggling his backpack in one hand and his guitar case in the other, just before the door peeked open. Gon grabbed the handle viciously and swung the door open. Killua turned away, looking like a smug cat after having knocked something off of the counter.

"That was evil of you," Gon commented.

"I like to keep people on their toes," Killua said.

As they walked up the two flights of stairs, Killua considered what the odds were that Gon would be taking off in his car again. He supposed he could order an Uber and attempt to follow him, but that required too much coordination. Instead, he decided on an alternative course of action.

He waited for Gon to open the door to the apartment, since the guy already had his keys in hand. He leant his shoulder against the wall, crossed his arms, and said, "So where are you and Kurapika going for the 'date'."

Gon rolled his eyes and mimicked Killua's air-quotes. "There's no 'date' about it. This is a real, honest-to-God, Date."

"Whatever."

"And I think we're going to the movies. Avatar II is playing," he explained, and waltzed inside. Killua got his phone out and started researching movie theatres in the area. "But Kurapika lives sorta close to here so he's stopping by real quick. I won't bring him into the apartment, though! I swear—"

Killua startled at the absurd plan Gon and Kurapika came up with. It was one thing to organize something like this with Kurapika , but had Gon met with a complete stranger? Killua didn't want to even consider it.

"Okay, no, dude—you can't just give your address out to first dates on Tinder," he said as he slipped his shoes off in the entryway. Gon pouted at him from the foyer archway, slipping his bags off of his shoulders.

"He doesn't know our apartment number ," Gon reassured him, but Killua just shook his head.

"Number one rule of dating on Tinder: Let someone know where you're going, when you get there, and when you leave. This is basic shit, dude," Killua said, and Gon groaned and relented.

Gon left to his room as Killua migrated back to the kotatsu. He sat in his favorite spot—with his back to the window, so when the sun did decide to show itself, it warmed his back while his legs were made toasty under the comforter.

He certainly didn't expect Gon to come out with a slip of paper detailing his phone number and an itinerary for the date. Killua looked up from it, startled, and Gon crossed his arms, cheeks puffed out as if Killua had twisted his arm into giving him this information.

"There. Just... text me or something so I have your number," Gon said.

Killua picked up the paper and would have questioned why Gon decided to pick Killua as his Safety Contact... but circumstances depended on Killua having this information.

Gon seemed to get the idea, though, and blushed profusely. "Th-This is only because we live together! A-And you'd know for sure that I made it back alive, so—you know—I—"

"I get it, Casanova, chill out," Killua said as he got his phone out and typed in Gon's number. He sent a knife emoji over.

Gon's phone buzzed in his pocket. When he looked at it, that flustered, annoyed expression evaporated from his face. Gon smiled and managed a firm nod—yes, this would do—and left back to his room.

Killua sat anxiously through Gon's intermediary limbo. With nothing to do between class and Gon's date, the guy holed himself up in his room and started playing melodies on Melvin 2.0. Killua tried to concentrate on an essay due in two weeks but couldn't, not when Kurapika's smug mug kept fading in and out of focus like an after image on his optic nerve.

He pulled his knees up under the kotatsu comforter and sighed. This semester was turning out to be a nightmare, and he could blame it all on the idiot asshole who scammed him.

And then, Gon emerged.

Gon flew out of his room like a bat out of hell. He lunged off of the steps and landed with a thud, skidding across the wood floor on his socks. Killua nearly had a heart attack watching this guy slide across the room, arms flung out to steady himself.

As soon as he stilled motion, Gon whispered, "He's here."

Fuck , Killua thought, eyes wide as Gon scrambled for the street window. Killua slid out from under the kotatsu and peered out the window, to the street below, where a familiar black sunhat blocked Kurapika's blonde hair from view.

"How do I look?" Gon said.

"You asked me this morning—"

"Right! Thanks—I'll see you later! Or not, 'cause you work—right, sorry. Okay, bye!" Gon took off running to the foyer as Killua sat, motionless, at the window. He looked back down at Kurapika, who stood beside the curb on his phone, hip cocked to one side, looking elegant as ever.

Killua snuck closer to the window to see a glimpse of the front door swinging open. Gon bounded out, peppy and smiley and, to Killua's horror, went in straight for a hug.

Killua bashed his forehead into the window. Jesus Christ—this guy has a death wish .

Instead of snapping Gon's neck as Killua predicted Kurapika to do, the guy took half a second to respond to the hug. When he did, he wrapped one arm around Gon's torso and gave him a brief hug. The heathen had the audacity to pull a Smooth Move on Gon by turning it into a side hug and walking them both down the sidewalk like they were a goddamn couple or some shit. Like this wasn't their first date.

The moment they turned the corner, Killua realized, Oh, right, I'm supposed to be following them .

He tripped getting to his feet, heart racing. He hoped to God Kurapika wasn't open about his career choice the way he was when they hung out. The amount of stripper jokes Kurapika was capable of was unreal.

Killua dove into his closet, scrambling for the top shelf where he had a line of manniquen heads single-handedly holding up his wig collection. He grabbed the nearest one—black hair, conspicuous, just right for the job—and thanked his odd profession for prompting him to buy it. He could also thank his odd profession for his inability to trust Freecss.

As Killua took the first bus to the theater, Gon invited Kurapika into his car and said, "You know, this is my first Tinder date."

"That's cute," Kurapika said. He ducked into the car, removing his hat as he went, and leant an elbow against the center console. "That surprises me."

"Why?"

"'Cause you're so fucking cute? I don't really know," he scoffed, and Gon turned bright red. Kurapika gestured towards his face and said, "Proving my point right there."

"Th-There's nothing cute about blushing ! I hate being so blush-able," Gon whined, rubbing at his cheeks.

He put the car into drive as Kurapika cackled, slipping lower into the seat until his knees touched the dashboard and his hands rested on his stomach. He looked at Gon's profile, at the way Gon's lips pouted comically and the soft curve of his nose crinkled up with it. Gon glanced at him, and Kurapika looked away, propping an elbow up on the edge of the window. He grinned to himself and decided that it was fun teasing Freecss.

They, of course, arrived at the theater first. Killua's bus arrived five minutes later, and when it did, he made quick work of purchasing his ticket under the light of the marquee sign. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited, thinking, Come on, come on, they're in there! I just know it , as his eyes traveled across every face stepping even remotely close to the theater.

He leant to the side, peering into the building as the worker passed his ticket under the window and said, "Here you go. Second theater on the left."

Killua snatched it without a word. He turned and ran immediately into some tall asshole in a suit.

"Watch it!" Killua snapped, only to stutter at the sight of those ridiculous puny sunglasses on Leorio's oversized noggin. "L-Leorio!"

Leorio hissed, raising a finger to his lips. "Quiet! I'm undercover."

Killua looked him up and down and said, "You look the same as you do every day. Do you even know what undercover means?"

Leorio ushered Killua out of the way of the doors, where customers were waltzing in for the tail end of the commercials. They had another few minutes to spare before the movie started, and Killua didn't want to risk one of them leaving the theater to grab a snack before the feature film—it increased the chances of them seeing him.

And now with Mr. Beanpole here, their conspicuously just plummeted.

"You couldn't at least wear, I don't know, a hoodie?" Killua snapped.

Leorio flattened a hand over his tie, appalled. "You never know when you're networking."

"You're a bartender ," Killua snapped.

"Yeah, and you're wearing a wig. Wait, why are you wearing a wig?" Leorio said, squinting at Killua's now black hair.

Killua put his hands to the wig, frowning as he checked to make sure all bits of bleach were covered. With a scoff, he turned away and said, "Stop changing the topic. Why are you even here ."

At this, Leorio clammed up and looked vaguely around for an answer. He pointed to the Avatar II poster and said, "Going to catch a movie."

"Who goes to the movies alone!"

"You do, apparently! Don't pretend like you aren't holding a ticket for one," he snapped, and Killua could have ripped his ticket in two.

It didn't take a genius to put two-and-two together. Not only that, but the pink dusting Leorio's cheeks said it all. Killua had his suspicions about the guy, but stalking Kurapika's Tinder date was where he drew the line between Subtle and Obvious.

Killua propped his hands on his hips and teased, "You're here because Kurapika's on a date, aren't you?"

"So what if I am! I could ask you the same thing—"

"Yeah, and I'd reply that I'm stalking Kurapika because he's on a date with someone in my major. I can't have him blurting out bullshit about working at the club—it might convince the guy to visit while I'm, you know—"

Leorio quirked an eyebrow. "Working the pole?"

Killua wanted to strangle him so terribly, his fists clenched at the air in a feeble attempt to avoid throttling Leorio's scrawny chicken neck.

"You rotten bastard," Killua seethed, and Leorio smirked.

Leorio waltzed into the theater while Killua resisted the urge to implode right there in the middle of downtown San Francisco. Instead of combusting, he marched after Leorio, brow furrowed. He bought a goddamn Bunch-A-Crunch because fuck it, he was at the movies, for Chrissake, and he fucking deserved it .

He ripped open the plastic packaging with his teeth and fiddled with the cardboard opening. Once the top was open, he poured some into his mouth and munched on it on their way to the Avatar II theater.

Leorio slurped on some soda and said, "Do you think the food was really necessary?"

"You don't want to see me hangry," Killua muttered. He tipped his head back and poured another handful of chocolates into his mouth as they stepped into the theater.