a/n: I remember writing this and feeling exhausted and just wanting to get to the plot, so because of that I sacrificed some clarity in this chapter so I could move things along. So sorry if anything's confusing!!

Due to Killua's inability to face Kurapika, he stayed late into the night—or rather, early in the morning—until he was certain Kurapika vacated the locker room. He had Leorio sneak in to check, and when Leorio emerged unharmed to give Killua the clear, he booked it home at three in the goddamn morning.

It wasn't often that Killua spent his nights like that. If he could avoid it, he tried to escape by one, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He nearly fell asleep on the bus home, and when he arrived at the door to the apartment, his fingers felt numb and useless. He fumbled with his keys, yawning against the back of his hand. When he pushed through, the apartment was dark all except for the streetlights streaming in through the living room window.

Killua wandered in, shoes abandoned at the door. He couldn't be bothered with the remaining scraps of his makeup, so the wipes he used on the bus would have to do. After staggering into his room, he set the alarm on his phone, the inevitable snooze, along with an old digital clock on his nightstand to ensure that he did, in fact, wake up in time for class.

He did not, in fact, wake up in time for class.

When the first of Killua's alarms went off, Gon heard it from his cozy spot in his own room, huddled deep beneath his covers. He laid there with his eyes closed, soaking in the morning energy like a solar panel beneath the sun.

Killua's ringtone trailed on, muffled through the wall. Gon yawned, peeking his head out from the covers. Slowly but surely, he opened his eyes, and wondered if Killua was going to wake up anytime soon to turn the alarm off.

He checked the time on his watch; he had another twenty minutes left until his own alarm went off, so he decided to turn over, pull the blankets up, and ignore Killua's alarm blaring Africa by Toto through the walls.

A few minutes went by and the song started over, increasing in volume with every minute of the song. Soon, Gon was tapping his foot to the beat, only to curse himself for getting distracted—he was supposed to be getting fourteen-and-a-half more minutes of sleep!

But then, he was singing the lyrics under his breath and god-fucking-dammit , he was jamming too hard to sleep. Gon threw his blankets down with a huff, only to yelp when the single most, soul-wrenching alarm started blaring from Killua's room.

Gon's heart came damn near close to rupturing all over his organs, rendering him useless for the day, but instead, he lunged to his feet, gasping, and threw his fists down with a groan of contempt. Who used alarms at that volume when there wasn't a fire happening?

He stomped to the door and, once out in the common space, stilled at the top of the stairs on his way to the bathroom. The alarm was still going off, and Gon wondered if Killua was even alive .

It was pretty late when I went to bed... and he wasn't here... Gon thought, tapping a finger to his chin. He gasped again, thinking aloud, "What if he drank too much last night? What he choked on his vomit—what if he's dead? Oh, God, I don't know how to carry a dead body—Wait, no, I'd just call the police—Oh, God, I've never seen a dead body..."

Gon pranced around the living space through the terror-inducing alarm emitting through Killua's closed bedroom door. He put his fingers to his lips and chewed on the hem of his sweatshirt sleeve, watching Killua's door stand ominously and threateningly across the room from him, tempting him with the horror that might greet him on the other side.

"If he's dead... I gotta at least check," he reasoned, only to backtrack. "Right? Or I could wait until it starts smelling bad—Okay, no, we're going in."

Gon marched up the steps and reached for Killua's door handle. After hesitating a moment, he clutched it, pride it open, and went in search of the alarm's epicenter on the nightstand.

His heart beat, heavy and deafening in his chest, pulsing like the sweat gathering in his pits as he searched frantically for the Off button. The instant it was spotted, he slapped it and the god-awful sound ceased.

Gon's ears rang and he opened his mouth wide in hopes of popping them. When that didn't work, he rubbed at his earlobes, frowning as he turned to Killua's bed where the idiot was still passed out and only half-covered with a blanket.

Gon stilled. He looked around, struck by the sudden realization that he was standing in the middle of Killua's room, right next to Killua's bed, where Killua laid fast asleep while Africa by Toto still played on his phone.

Gon reached for Killua's shoulder. He gave it a soft poke and whispered, "Hey, Killua..." to no avail.

Killua didn't budge.

Gon gave him another nodge, jerking his hand back just as quickly as the last time. The danger, however, was out for the count.

"Hey, get up," Gon said, a touch louder, his hand shaking Killua by the shoulder.

Killua rolled onto his back, his arm half-raised over his face as he groaned. His eyes were red from (unbeknownst to Gon) rubbing at the mascara in his sleep, and his pale skin was pink around his nose and cheeks. If Gon wasn't so paranoid about Killua missing class, he might have focused on it and thought about it for the rest of the day.

Instead, he thought about something much, much worse.

Killua's eyes peeked open, just a smidge, and Gon prompted him with another shake, saying, "Hey, wake up. Your phone alarm's still going off."

Killua blinked sleepily and whispered, voice hoarse with sleep, "Canary...?"

Gon stared at him, his knees against the edge of the mattress, and a hand on the nightstand. "What?" he said.

The arm Killua had flopped over his forehead reached out. Gon stilled, frozen, and he only cracked after Killua's hand pulled him by the head. Gon felt the warmth of Killua's skin long before he felt it on his lips, pressed to Killua's chapped lips.

Gon's adrenaline sent him flying back. His shin slammed into Killua's bedframe, rattling it thoroughly against the wall, only to swing back up in the first defensive maneuver he remembered from self-defense class: A swift kick to the gut.

Gon slammed the heel of his foot into Killua's abdomen before taking off, screaming, as Killua lurched awake with a pained grunt.

Gon tripped and skidded on his stomach across the wood flooring. His ass fell down the first of the steps before he gathered his bearings and reared back to his bedroom door. He barrel-rolled inside, doubled-back, and slammed the door shut behind him. Once safe from the enemy, he let out the breath caught in the back of his throat.

Gon flattened his back to the door and skidded down until his bum hit the wood. He slapped his hands over his lips and whispered, "He just kissed me—Why did he kiss me? Oh... no, oh no, no, no—"

He scrambled too his feet, pacing the length of his room and back again. "Maybe he thought I was someone else? But why would he call me a bird ? Does he have a bird fettish? Oh, God, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph church didn't prepare me for this —!"

Gon's mind dove straight back to the moment his face was close enough to see Killua's lidded eyes so close-up, he could pick out Killua's long lashes one-by-one. When he could feel both of Killua's lips, resting against Gon's bottom one.

Gon startled back into existence, his back flattening against the door once again. "What do I do ?" he thought aloud, heart racing, panic etched into every fiber of his being. He couldn't breathe , he couldn't think , he couldn't—

The door behind him swung open. Gon fell back with a cry, his head hitting the wood flooring. He cradled it, groaning, and opened his eyes to the sight of Killua standing over him, white bed-head mused and tossed haphazardly over his forehead. His eyes, glaring.

Gon screamed and scrambled to his feet, and in his haste, managed to trip onto his mattress. He bounced against the comforter, his eyes stuck on Killua stepping onto the threshold of his bedroom.

Killua's voice was rich with barely-restrained rage.

"Because of you," he started, pulling up his shirt, "my stomach is bruised."

Gon's eyes honed in on Killua's stomach. He had seen it before, but his attention began and ended at the very obvious ink that he temporarily mistook for a happy trail.

Gon lunged to his feet, screaming and weilding a pillow. "G-Get out! Get out of my room! Get away from me!" he screamed, flinging it at Killua. He landed a solid smack that sounded like a gunshot to Killua's chest.

Killua grunted, staggering out of the room just far enough for Gon to slam the door in his face.

Gon shoved the pillow against the door, panting, eyes wild. He shook his head, blinking hard. No, he thought, I totally just imagined that tattoo, didn't I?

He wasn't an idiot, though, and he knew a tattoo when he saw one, especially one he didn't see the last time he had caught sight of Killua's naval. Especially one that he recognized.

No, plenty of people have naval tattoos , he thought, eyes wide with horror.

"What's the matter with you?" Killua called from the other side of the door.

Gon flinched, clutching at the pillow in a desperate attempt to keep his door shut . "Y-You know what you did!" Gon said, voice cracking.

"The fuck does that mean? You're the one who kicked me," Killua reminded, thoroughly irritated.

Gon stilled. He lowered the pillow after a moment and opened the door, just a crack, so he could see the look on Killua's face that told Gon that this guy didn't have a damn clue what prompted Gon to kick him.

"You don't... remember?" Gon whispered.

" What , you kicking the shit out of my appendix?" he said, gesturing to his stomach. Gon stared at it, but it was covered now. He flinched away when Killua snapped again, "If you're gonna wake me up, do it gently , God ."

The horrendous image of some nameless, faceless woman came to mind. Gon watched her, draped in a silky nightgown that stopped just below the gentle curve of her ass. She would seat herself on the edge of Killua's bed, lean in, and wake Killua with the tender touch of her lips against his...

"N-No!" Gon screamed bloody-murder, startling Killua into jumping away. "I-I can't—I can't do that!"

He slammed his door shut and held onto the handle with a firm, desperate grip. He waited for Killua to leave, which took a moment due to the fact that Gon had rendered him immobile, speechless.

After a moment of confused alarm, Killua cleared his throat and turned back to his door. He paused, though, to glance back at Gon's bedroom door before looking away with a scoff and leaving to go about his day.

Gon, however, could not go about his day. Not after that .

That was his first kiss.

And Killua didn't even remember it.

But, more importantly, why did Killua have a tattoo on his stomach?

As Gon went to class that day, he considered the odds of him halucinating it. He had just woken up—his eyes were always a little unfocused in the morning—so perhaps he could account for that margin of error? And he couldn't remember Killua's happy trail being all that dark, or even existent—because unbeknownst to Gon, Killua waxed regularly.

Gon sat in lecture, fondling his soft, supple lips with the fascination of someone who liked babies and wanted nothing more than to rub their smooth, hairless head. Thus was how Zushi found him several minutes later.

Zushi paused at the bottom of the stairs. Gon didn't notice him, so Zushi tipped his head to the side and studied Gon, curious about this weird predicament he found his friend in. After a moment, Zushi dispelled the notion from his head and proceeded up to Gon.

Before Zushi could even speak, Gon asked, "Have you been kissed before?"

Zushi gasped. "Did Kurapika kiss you?"

"What? No—but I did see him yesterday," Gon confessed. They work together , he remembered, and the thought of Killua's naval tattoo had Gon's brain spiraling all over again because what if ...

"Oh. Well, I'm betting on you two. That guy's hot as fuuuuck ," Zushi sang as he pulled out a notebook for class and slapped it onto his chair's pull-out desk. "And to answer your question: Yes, I have."

"When?" Gon said, eyes wide.

"Senior year of high school?"

Gon slumped with a groan, sliding his hands over his face. Of course he was not only a late-bloomer to the Bro Committee, but he was also a late-bloomer in the romance department.

"Dude, what is it? It's fine if you haven't kissed anyone yet. I had a cousin who didn't even start dating until he was out of college—school's stressful!" Zushi said, waving his hands about. "I don't know how any has time to suck each other off when there's an essay to write!"

"I can see precisely where your head is at," Knuckle's voice sounded from behind. They both startled, Gon yelped, and Knuckle swung over the back of the seat beside him. He dropped down, an arm slung over the back of Gon's chair, and said, "You could say the same for kids who go to frat parties on a Thursday."

At that moment, attention in the lecture hall gravitated to the exit where Killua Zoldyck made his entrance. Gon's amygdala spasmed, flitting rapidly between fight and flight as he watched the source of his torment walk nonchalantly to the back of the hall. Gon, Zushi, and Knuckle watched Killua's ascent to greatness before inevitably turning back around before Killua could tell that they were watching.

I need to know that the tattoo wasn't his , Gon realized, certain that he would fall into maddess if he didn't confirm it sooner. To do that, however, he either A) had to forcefully remove Killua's shirt or B) take a trip to The Phantom .

As lecture started, Gon discretely lifted his phone from his pocket and pulled up Killua's contact information from the day he and Kurapika first went out. He opened up their blank messages and asked, " Do you work tonight? " and waited, elbow propped on the armrest, and fingers rubbing against his bottom lip.

He resisted the urge to look back at Killua just as a response came through.

" Yeah why? "

" I'm thinking about having a friend over. They'll leave before you get back! " Gon lied before holding his phone against his chest.

When it buzzed, he managed to wait all of five seconds before sneaking a peek. " Just don't let them in my room ."

Gon smiled, relieved, but equally anxious for that night when he'd leave studio class to investigate the club scene. It was dark out by then, and the studio building was close enough to Zushi and Knuckle's dormitory that they could walk to the front door in a matter of minutes. Gon waved farewell after escorting them and went about his night, maneuvering between campus buildings, and at last arriving at the parking structure where Retz' photo had perfectly captured the fading sunlight behind Kurapika and Killua on the third floor of the building.

Gon decided to wait for the night to set into full swing. He pushed himself up onto the hood of his car and wielded Melvin 2.0 up on the roof of the parking structure—just to pass the time.

At 9PM sharp, Gon could be spotted laying Melvin 2.0 down in its case, snapping it shut, and stowing the case away in the back of his car. And, with the parking lot nearly cleared out for the day, he made quick work of looping down to the ground floor and escaping out onto the streets of San Francisco with The Phantom plugged into his GPS.

Though it was the dead of night, San Francisco's fog only managed to spread the glow of street lamps and cast a hazy halo across the streets. When he stepped out onto the sidewalk to pay the parking meter, the moisture in the air clung to the wrinkles in his jean jacket, and the hoodie he wore underneath it.

It occurred to him that he was, in fact, returning to the strip club only when he looked up at the marquee sign outside of The Phantom . There was a group of guys herding themselves in, laughing and drunk from another bar down the street. When Gon stepped hesitantly up behind them, one of them gave him a thumbs up, gestured to the club, and said, "Good shit."

Gon smiled weakly and said, "Oh, I'm not—I mean, I guess I sort of am going to the club... But I'm on a mission!"

The guy laughed and slapped the back of his buddy ahead of him. "Dude, this guy's on a mission—let him pass."

"Oh fuck, a mission. Dude, skip ahead."

"Hell yeah, get up there dude."

"He's on a mission!"

Gon slid past them, smiling nervously as they all whooped and hollered and started clapping. He blamed it on their drunken behavior, but he really wished they'd stop making a scene, especially when Gon was confronted with the host of the establishment dressed in an unbuttoned silk blouse with flowing sleeves and high-waisted slacks.

The host crossed his legs, leant against the divider ledge, and said, "ID, if you will."

He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and, after confirming his age, the host put his stamp away and said, "That'll be twenty-five dollars, handsome."

Heat flushed to Gon's cheeks. He produced thirty dollars, which the host exchanged for a five. As he handed it over, Gon asked, "Is there... someone here with white hair?"

The host offered a devilish grin. Gon's heart shuddered in his chest, drumming with the rhythm of the fast-paced music pulsing through the walls. "There certainly is. Last stage."

Gon's heart stilled in his ribcage, heavy with an odd mix of satisfaction. He felt proud , for some reason, for putting the pieces together, but he couldn't be certain until he saw for himself what awaited him at the last stage.

The club looked far different from the rave that previous weekend. It was open, spacious, and doused in purple and pink lighting that spiraled in intoxicating circles, shimmering against the silky curtains that divided the stage area from the booths raised up on platforms. Gon walked down the long bracket of stages, his eyes scanning the faces of the dancers on stage, on the floor, chatting with customers. All of them had the figures of lithe, delicate models and, when the light shone just right ... he could see the defined outlines of their lean muscles that could support the weight of their suspended bodies on the pole.

Gon rubbed the back of his neck. His ears felt so hot that he feared they might explode by the time his eyes trailed to the last of the stages.