Archive of Our Own ^beta

Waking up in a hospital with virtually no memory of how you ended up there is an extremely strange and disorienting experience. Your senses come back to you one by one. For Shoot, it was touch before anything else, as is usually typical of such an experience. Specifically, the feeling of touch in his hand, and the realization that someone else's, much larger, hand was grasping his firmly, almost painfully. Pain, a sensation that, apart from his hand, he was beginning to become more and more aware of in just about every part of his body. Sight came next, and as Shoot opened his eyes to the bright white lights of the hospital room and looked to his right, he became dimly aware of the sleeping man sitting by his bedside. Namely, Knuckle Bine, the owner of the aforementioned large hand. Very shortly after came hearing, and he noticed the loud snores coming from Knuckle, as well as the faint hum of the lights, the beeping of several monitors, and the muffled sound of voices and shuffling feet outside his door. Then came smell, and Shoot scrunched up his nose at the unpleasant clinical smell of his hospital room, as well as, dear god, was that Knuckle? When was the last time he showered? How long had he been by Shoot's side? Lastly came taste, and Shoot was dimly aware of a taste that matched the clinical smell, a steady diet of pills and hospital food, no doubt. Had Knuckle eaten? He hoped so.

These realizations came to Shoot over the span over about 10 seconds, during which time he attempted to adjust, his hand moving slightly in Knuckle's grip, which was more than enough to alert the larger man. Knuckle sat straight up, though notably did not let go of his hand. "Shoot!" He shouted, and yeah, Shoot's hearing was working fine. "You're awake! Finally!"

Shoot smiled weakly at the other man. "Hush, Knuckle. How long was I out for?"

Knuckle nodded, seeming almost embarrassed by his outburst. "Ah, about 3 days. You really took a beating back there, buddy."

Shoot laughed, the sound faint and strained. "Did we win, then?"

Knuckle's eyes began to well up, and that really wasn't good, because if Knuckle started crying, he was almost certainly going to cry too. "Yeah, we did. How much do you remember?
"
"Not a lot," Shoot replied honestly, "I remember the fight with Youpi, I remember you saving me, I remember passing out in the middle of the palace, and now I'm here." He also had the dim sensation of being hauled around like a sack of potatoes, but Shoot decided it was better to leave that bit unmentioned.

Knuckle nodded, his eyes still wet. "While I was fighting Youpi, Knov came back and saved you, brought you here. If he hadn't-" Knuckle was actually crying now, goddamn it. "I don't think I could have saved you, Shoot. You were, I thought, I thought that Youpi-" He shook his eyes, sending fat teardrops in every direction. "I'm just so glad you're alive, Shoot. The old man managed to bring down the king, in the end. Netero is dead, we're pretty sure, but Palm said that she watched the king die, and I trust her. Youpi, Pouf, and Pitou were all killed too. Gon got his revenge, but he's-he's hurt bad, Shoot." He attempted to wipe his eyes, but the crying didn't stop. "Kite-Kite's alive. Sort of. He's, uh, she? I don't know. They're an ant now, that kid we gave to Colt turned out to be Kite's reincarnation. So, a happy ending, I guess."

Knuckle was an optimist at the worst of times, so to hear him sound so defeated about their "happy ending" left a pit in Shoot's stomach. He changed the topic. "How long have you been sitting here, Knuckle?"

Knuckle flushed red. "Ah, well-"

"We tried to get him to move, but he placed APR on me and wouldn't remove it until I left him alone," Morel spoke up from the doorway, somehow having snuck in in the middle of Knuckle's recounting of events. Other than his IV and hospital garb, he didn't look too worse for wear, although Shoot noticed the distinct lack of a pipe.

"You've been here the whole time?" Shoot demanded.

Knuckle wiped his eyes, nodding furiously. "It's my fault you're here, Shoot. I should've protected you! I couldn't-I couldn't leave."

Shoot sighed. "Go eat something, and take a shower. I'll still be here when you get back."
Knuckle opened his mouth to protest, but both Morel and Shoot shot him a piercing look, and he held his hands up in surrender, slipping past Morel and out of Shoot's room. Shoot clenched his hand around nothing, suddenly feeling empty without the warm grip of Knuckle's hand in his.

Morel moved over to the bed, sitting at the foot, looking at Shoot with what he assumed to be a sincere expression, it was hard to tell with the sunglasses. "You did good out there, Shoot. You and Knuckle both. Once we're both healed up, the three of us can get back to-"

"I'm done." Shoot cut him off. He looked up at Morel, his face betraying how defeated he felt. "I'm out, Morel. Once they discharge me, I'm leaving." Shoot wasn't sure where the words were coming from, he had never even considered leaving it all behind during the invasion of the palace, and yet here he was. Because at the end of the day, he was a coward, and he admitted as such freely. "I'm a coward, and I can't do this again. I was willing to die when we fought the ants, but," he sighed deeply, "being willing to and wanting to are very different things, and I can't go through that again."

Morel watched him for a long moment, before nodding his head slightly, an almost imperceptible motion. "I understand, Shoot. No one will hold it against you." He laughed. "No one should have to save the world twice. Just-" he sighed, before smiling faintly, "Remember to call, alright?"

Shoot laughed, because Knuckle really did get his soft nature from Morel. "Of course," he assured the man, "of course I will."

They talked for a little while longer, and then Morel left, smiling at him warmly as he stepped out of the hospital room.

Eventually, Knuckle returned, both looking and smelling better than when Shoot had first seen him. He resumed his place in the chair by Shoot's bedside, but kept his hands to himself this time, stuffed in his coat pockets. His hair was still damp, and hanging down around his shoulders, and Shoot could not ever having seen him with his hair down like that. He couldn't say the look didn't suit the other man, though.

"Thank you," Shoot began, sitting up to look at him, "you're much more pleasant to be around now."

Knuckle laughed, loud and full as he usually did. After a moment though, his face fell. "I talked to Morel."

"About what?" Shoot asked, even though he already knew the answer perfectly well.

Knuckle just looked at him, his face uncharacteristically serious and-sad? Shoot had never been great at reading other people, but Knuckle was an open book. "He told me what you told him, Shoot."

"Ah," Shoot sighed, closing his eyes, "Knuckle-"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Knuckle cut him off, "I understand. That fight, what you did," he looked up at Shoot, smiling, his eyes wet once again, "You've earned the right to leave it behind."

Shoot nodded, smiling faintly, a rare sight from the man. "Thank you," he said softly, watching Knuckle attempt to stop himself from crying.

"I'll miss you, fool." The insult was halfhearted, rather fond, really, and Knuckle was smiling too, despite the tears streaming down his face.

Shoot laughed softly. under his breath. "I'm not leaving the planet, Knuckle, we can still see each other."

"Of course, of course, I just-Nevermind. I'm proud of you, Shoot." Knuckle reached across the bed, taking hold of Shoot's bandaged hand, squeezing it firmly, but not painfully, before standing up. "I'll be back soon. Rest." And with that, he was out the door again.

Shoot spent the next few weeks in his hospital room. He saw a lot of people, Morel, Knov, somebody named Leorio, Biscuit Krueger, which was surprising, Meleoron, Ikalgo, and a handful of Gon's other friend's who's names he couldn't seem to remember. They thanked him, mostly, and sometimes just came to spend time with one another in his hospital room, which Shoot found a little strange, but he was glad for the company. He saw Gon when he had recovered, who nearly broke his ribs again by jumping on his chest. He was able to thank Knov, who seemed to have more or less recovered from his breakdown. It had the distinct feel of a going-away party.

Knuckle visited every day. He brought him food, they watched videos on Knuckle's laptop, he yelled for doctors when Shoot showed the slightest sign of being in pain. Of all the people that cycled through his room, Knuckle was the most consistent. He even slept there, despite Shoot's protests. Knuckle was as bullheaded as they come, a trait that had once annoyed Shoot, but now he found it oddly endearing. In fact, he found the whole thing rather endearing. He began to notice that while he enjoyed the company of everyone he saw who came to visit him, he missed Knuckle's presence when he wasn't there. He vaguely followed the election, through Knuckle's recounting of events mostly. He wasn't surprised when Pariston won, although him immediately passing the mantle to Cheadle was a bit shocking. He enjoyed seeing Ging punched in the face, though, and he was happy that Gon was okay. Knuckle sobbed in his room for hours after Gon woke up. Shoot ran his hand across his broad back and wondered when exactly he had begun to care so deeply about Knuckle.

If he had to pinpoint it, it would probably be that night in East Gorteau, in the tree. Listening to Knuckle scream about the unfairness of the millions of people who were going to die, trying to reason with him, though deep down, he was just as outraged as Knuckle. he had always known that Knuckle was soft, that he had a deep and unconditional love for all abiding things, but seeing it so fully realized, in a situation where Shoot could do nothing, where neither of them could do anything, he caught a real glimpse into Knuckle's heart. Yeah, it was probably then. It's precisely why Shoot was going to hate leaving so much. Because somehow, over the last few weeks, Shoot realized that he felt..something, for Knuckle. What it was, he couldn't say, but he knew it made him hate leaving.

Damned if I do, damned if I don't, he supposed. He couldn't do this again, he wouldn't survive it. But damn, was he going to miss moments like this.

It was a few days after Cheadle was elected that Shoot was discharged from the hospital. He said goodbye to everyone who had visited him on his way out, as Knuckle helped him to his car, draping his one arm around Knuckle's broad shoulders.

"Where are you gonna go then?" Knuckle asked, after helping him into the front seat, the car door still open.

Shoot shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. Somewhere peaceful, I hope."

As if on cue, tears began to spill from Knuckle's eyes, and, much to his own surprise, Shoot felt his own eyes begin to well up. "Call me when you find it, okay?" Knuckle told him, but his voice carried a note of pleading.

"Of course, Knuckle." His voice was shaky, and a few hot tears made their way down Shoot's cheek. "Of course."

Knuckle moved to close the door, but stopped himself, leaning back down, closer than he was before. Shoot opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, but before he knew it, Knuckle's large hands were on either side of his face as he leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to Shoot's hairline. "Be safe out there."

Before Shoot could say anything, the car door slammed shut and Knuckle was gone. He sat at the wheel for a long time, the feeling of Knuckle's lips against his skin thrumming through every part of his body. Eventually, with a last look at the hospital, he pulled out of the parking lot and started driving.

As time went on, the two settled into their respective lives. Shoot was compensated handsomely by the Hunter's Association for his work with the Chimera Ants, as well as providing him with a steady pension for the remainder of his retirement. he used the reward to buy a small cottage in the countryside of the Mimbo Republic, not terribly far from Heaven's Arena, he realized, but far enough that Hunters would not bother him. The nearest town was small and quaint, he went shopping once a week. he had his own garden, a grill, which he found slightly difficult to use without Nen, but the first time he tried to use his Nen out of the hospital, memories of being slashed open by Youpi's arms hit him like a ton of bricks and he spent the next hour puking in the bathroom, so he had resigned to avoid it for the time being. He had a porch that he watched the sunset from every night, and he was terribly, terribly lonely.

Knuckle, on the other hand, resumed his training with Morel and, occasionally, Knov. Morel was released from the hospital before Shoot, so the day that Shoot left, Knuckle went to him. He had developed immensely during the short time he spent on the extermination team, and Morel was impressed with his progress but did not go easy on him in the slightest. Worryingly, Knuckle did not go easy on himself either. A week in, he got a call from Shoot, telling him where he was if he ever wanted to come to visit. Knuckle seemed to throw himself into training after that. He barely slept, barely ate, trained from dusk until dawn. It all came to a head about a month in.

"Knuckle." Morel barged into Knuckle's room without even the pretense of knocking. Knuckle was sitting cross-legged on his bed, an impressive amount of Ren surrounding him, as it had been for the last 4 hours. He cracked open one eye to peer at Morel, and let his Ren dissipate when he saw the serious look on his face.

"Yeah, boss?" He asked as Morel took a seat on the foot of his bed.

"I hate to say this, Knuckle, because I know you can take care of yourself, but I'm worried about you. " Morel opened, sighing.

Knuckle shook his head. "I'm fine, boss."

Morel scoffed. "Don't bullshit me, kid. You're running yourself ragged. I appreciate the dedication to your training, but you're going to burn yourself out at this rate."

"I'm getting stronger, what's so wrong with that? I don't want to go up against something like that again without being prepared." Knuckle said defensively, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"Youpi, Pouf, Pitou, and the King are all dead, Knuckle. Nothing's coming for you right now, you don't have to train like it's the end of the world." Morel tried to be patient and understanding, but it wore thin quickly.

"I know that! I'm not a fool, I just want to be prepared. If I had trained like this beforehand, maybe-" He stopped, turning away from his mentor sharply.

"Maybe what?" Morel asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already, and he had a lot riding on that assumption, literally.

"It's nothing, boss. I'm fine. It's late, you should go." He kept his face turned away from Morel, indignant.

'Spit it out," Morel demanded.

"I said it's nothing, alright? Quit being nosy." His voice was starting to shake, and arms clenched even tighter.

"Knuckle-"

"Maybe Shoot wouldn't have almost died, alright?!" Knuckle shouted, snapping back toward Morel, hot, angry tears streaming down his face. "If I had been stronger, I would have been able to actually fight that thing, and Shoot wouldn't have ended up like he did!" Knuckle sighed. "Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Morel looked at him for a long moment, his face somber. "Shoot's alive, Knuckle, in large part because of you."

"I know that too. But he left. If I had been able to protect him, to fight that thing off, maybe-" He wiped at his tears fruitlessly. "Maybe he'd still be here."

Bingo. Oh, Knov was going to regret this bet. Or maybe not, he usually didn't, come to think of it. Morel just needed to push Knuckle a little further. "Shoot was a fellow student. When did you-When did you start caring so much?"

"I don't know," Knuckle answered honestly, "all I know is that when I saw him almost dead on the palace floor, I saw red. And now he's gone, and I don't know-"

"So go see him," Morel told him, shrugging.

"But-"

"He'll want to see you too, Knuckle, I'm sure of it. Go see him. You don't even have to come back. You did your part Knuckle, you and Shoot both." Morel smiled, all teeth.

"I can't just leave everything behind!" Knuckle shouted, but his eyes betrayed his convictions.
"Sure you can. There will be other Hunters, Knuckle." Morel stood up.

"But what about-" Knuckle tried again.

Morel heaved a great sigh. "You're expelled. I want you out by tomorrow. Go see Shoot." Knuckle shouted something in protest, but Morel was already out the door.

As it turned out, now that he didn't have the overwhelming presence of Morel, Knuckle was actually very willing to leave. Although it was around 10 o'clock at night when Morel came to speak to him, Knuckle was out the door within the hour and at an airport within the next with the minimal amount of luggage he carried with him. He was on an airship by 2 in the morning, although the airship wouldn't land until noon the next day, and from there it was an hour or so drive. Knuckle planned on hiring a car, to Shoot's place. He briefly toyed with the idea of calling Shoot and telling him he was coming, but he found himself uncharacteristically nervous about the prospect and decided not to. He was antsy the entire trip, drumming his fingers on the arm of the seat, bouncing his leg, gaze firmly fixed out the window.

His mind wandered, wondering if Shoot would even want to see him. He supposed, now that he thought about it, that was the reason he didn't go when Shoot first called. He didn't regret how he said goodbye to the other man, exactly, but he realized now that Shoot may have been offended by the gesture, and he grimaced. Had he made Shoot uncomfortable? Damn, what if Shoot didn't let him in? What if Shoot had company? He had been gone for over a month, after all, it's very likely Shoot had made friends or...someone other than a friend. The thought made Knuckle feel vaguely sick, and he blocked it from his mind.

Shoot, on the other hand, was missing Knuckle terribly, more so than he had that first week. He thought the feeling would have passed by now, but it had only intensified. He spent a significant amount of time thinking about the other man, about the parting kiss he had left on his forehead. He didn't regret leaving, it was one of the braver things he had ever done, really, but he regretted leaving Knuckle behind. He liked his little cottage and his garden and his porch and the little town of quaint, perfectly boring people, but he missed the excitement Knuckle brought in his wake, his smile that always seemed to light up a room.

The night before Knuckle's ship was to land, Shoot found himself completely unable to fall asleep. He tossed and turned for an hour or so, before giving up entirely, laying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, he resigned himself to reaching a hand into his sleeping robe, eyes closed tightly. Even though he lived alone now, Shoot always felt a little embarrassed doing this, and he felt his face heat up as he closed his hand around his dick. It was times like these he lamented the loss of his other arm, as well as his inability to use nen.
He groaned softly to himself as he moved his hand slowly up and down his shaft, but the movement felt robotic, and he knew it wouldn't be enough to get him there, just staring at the inside of his eyelids. Suddenly, his mind was filled with visions of his former fellow student. He imagined the feeling of Knuckle's lips on other parts of his body. He pictured Knuckle towering above him, kissing down his neck, leaving large, purple hickeys as he moved down to his chest. Shoot gasped, gripping himself harder and stroking faster, already close despite having only started a few minutes ago.

He wondered how it would feel to have the other man's mouth around him instead of his own hand, holding him at the back of his throat, his large, strong hands pinning his narrow hips to the bed when he tried to buck up. As if in response to this image, he began to thrust up into his hand, panting and moaning under his breath. He pictured Knuckle's large fingers inside of him, whispering sweet nothings as he used his other hand to jerk him off slowly, keeping him on the edge. Fuck, he was so close, only a little more and he was going to cum.

He imagined Knuckle pushing into him, gently, still holding his hips down. He had seen Knuckle almost or actually naked in the course of their training several times, Morel never one to be shy, enough to know that he was big. He could practically feel the other man inside of him, and he gasped as he spilled over his hand and robe as the Knuckle in his mind bottomed out, with a gasp of "Fuck, Knuckle!." He sighed, breathing deeply, feeling his heart rate slowly return to normal. After a minute or so, he stood, divesting himself of his now sticky robe, throwing it into the hamper on the way to the bathroom. He showered quickly, now very tired, and as he lay in bed in a fresh robe, he wondered why Knuckle didn't want to come see him.

The following day, Knuckle's airship landed, about an hour ahead of schedule. Knuckle was the first one off, flashing his hunter license at the attendants as he barreled down the aisle and off the ship, his luggage swung over his shoulder. He called a car from the airport parking lot, and within 10 minutes of landing, Knuckle was on his way to Shoot's place, bouncing his leg and drumming his fingers like he had been doing on the airship. His driver attempted some small talk with him, but Knuckle's answers were short and noncommittal, and about 15 minutes in the driver gave up. He dropped him off at the bottom of the hill that Shoot's house was on. Knuckle tipped her generously, and the woman drove off. He stared up the hill, spotting the small house atop it, and sighed wistfully as he began to make his way up it.

Shoot was tending to the bonsai he had purchased a week or so ago in town when he heard a knock at the door. He perked up, wondering who it was, possibly the traveling merchant one of the girls in the village had mentioned. He set down his clippers gently and made his way through the door. He opened it to the sight of a broadly grinning Knuckle, almost too wide, in Shoot's opinion. He was standing with his hands on his hips, with one foot standing slightly behind the other as if prepared to run. He seemed to startle a little when Shoot opened the door, but he recovered quickly.

"Shoot!" Knuckle exclaimed, before pulling Shoot into a tight hug, startling the taller man. "I missed you!"

"Uh, I missed you too, Knuckle," Shoot stuttered out, his lungs beginning to feel a little compressed by the strength of Knuckle's hug, as well as the blood that was rushing to his cheeks as he remembered the previous night.

Eventually, Knuckle released him and pushed past him into the cottage, an exasperated Shoot shutting the door behind him. "This is so nice, Shoot!" Knuckle was looking around Shoot's cottage, still wearing his too-wide smile as he ran his large hands over the furniture.

Shoot sighed softly. "Knuckle, is there a reason you're here?"

Knuckle turned around to face him, his smile suddenly gone from his face, his voice suddenly small. "What?"

Shoot waved his hand frantically, backpedaling. "I'm not-I mean, I'm happy to see you! I just-You didn't visit when I called so I thought-" What had he thought? That Knuckle hadn't wanted to see him? That he was mad at him for retiring? How could he be sure Knuckle didn't feel that way?

Knuckle's eyes were watering. "No, Shoot, I just missed you. Morel-I wasn't doing great, Morel kicked my ass into gear."

"Why did it take Morel to get you to come here?" Shoot regretted the words the moment they came out of his mouth. He opened his mouth to correct himself, to stop Knuckle from hating him, but Knuckle got there first.

"I think-' Knuckle laughed, but it wasn't his usual full, bright laugh. "I think I thought you would hate me."

"Knuckle, what?" Shoot asked, staring wide-eyed at the other man.

"I was your partner, Shoot. I didn't protect you from Youpi, and you got so hurt and you had to leave and I-" Knuckle was crying, wiping angrily at his face. "I couldn't do shit to stop it."

Shoot shook his head frantically. "Knuckle, no. You did everything you could, and I'm okay. I'm happy here." He smiled softly. "The only thing I have regrets about is leaving you. I missed your company."

"You-You did?" It was strange to see Knuckle so vulnerable. His brash confidence usually provided a stark counterpart to Shoot's own meek hesitance. With the roles reversed, Shoot telling Knuckle about his feelings, Knuckle seeming small and insecure, Shoot felt a little off-balance.

Shoot shrugged, the motion mostly hidden by his large Yukata. "Yeah. I thought you didn't want to come to see me, actually. Which, it would be totally understandable if you didn't, because I just up and left you and it's not like you owe me anything. You're a friend, Knuckle, but it's not like I'm entitled to your company or anything like that. I'm glad to see you, of course, but you don't have to stay too long if you don't-" Suddenly, Knuckle's hands were on his face again, Shoot didn't even realize he had crossed the room, and he was reminded suddenly of the last time he saw Knuckle, in the car before he left, for a split second before Knuckle was kissing him.

Knuckle kissed the way he did almost everything; with his whole body and without stopping or thinking. One of his hands moved to the back of Shoot's neck, pulling him flush against the other man, the other remaining on his face. Shoot was startled only for a few moments before relaxing against him, allowing himself to be completely overtaken by the presence of the larger man. Knuckle seemed to notice this, as his movements became slower and softer as if his initial attack was so forceful out of nerves. Shoot was too lost in the sudden onslaught of sensation to comment on the matter, or even focus on it for more than a moment.

After what seemed like hours, Knuckle relented, although Shoot isn't sure when exactly he ended up pressed against his own front door. Knuckle moved his mouth to the side of his neck not covered by the large collar on his robe, kissing gently up and down it. Shoot whimpered softly, his hand tangling in the bottom of Knuckle's coat as he sought out something to grab on to. One of Knuckle's hands moved to the front of his robe to untie it, and suddenly Shoot's hand was on top of his, holding it tightly. Shoot wasn't even sure why he was stopping Knuckle, but his hand moved without his own awareness.

Knuckle stopped immediately, pulling his head back to look up at Shoot, his hand frozen on the tie around his waist. "Shoot-"

"It's okay, I'm not-I don't know why I did that," Shoot admitted.

Knuckle considered the taller man for a moment. "We don't have to do anything, Shoot. Not now, or ever, if you don't want to. I was just-"

"I do, I do, really. I'm just-" Shoot wasn't sure why he was so nervous, exactly. "I don't know."
"Shoot," Knuckle began cautiously, "have you ever done this before?"

Shoot's reaction to the question was immediate. His back straightened against the door and he flushed a deep red, a color Knuckle wasn't sure he had ever seen on another human before. He stammered nervously, but nothing coherent came out of the taller man's mouth. After a moment, he seemed to calm down and shook his head slightly, looking down between them.

Knuckle made a soft noise. "It's okay Shoot, that's alright. We can stop whenever you need to." Knuckle’s smile was patient and understanding.

"Have you?” Shoot asked, daring.

Knuckle shrugged, rubbing a hand behind his neck awkwardly. "Ah, yeah, I suppose so.”

Somehow, that didn't surprise Shoot. Knuckle was handsome, for sure, and he was charming in his own way. He's honestly a little surprised he never caught Knuckle with anyone during their time training, the man was neither quiet nor sneaky at the best of times. Perhaps it was before he had begun to study under Morel, and Shoot blinked a little at the image of a teenaged or early-20s Knuckle. He sighed, feeling a little less tense now, and he removed his hand from Knuckle's, nodding at the other man to tell him to continue. Knuckle paused only a moment before jumping at the opportunity, moving back to kissing above Shoot's turtleneck as he slowly but surely set to undoing his robe.

Shoot let his head thump back against the door, his hand returning to its place in Knuckle's coat. A moment later, Knuckle had the tie of his yukata undone and was letting it fall to the floor. He threw it open and let his hands slide underneath, squeezing Shoot's narrow hips briefly before moving his hands up to his shoulders, pulling back from his neck with a dramatic sigh, but he was smiling brightly as he gently slipped the robe off of Shoot's shoulders and let it pool at their feet. Shoot suddenly felt very underdressed and gave a pointed tug at the hem of Knuckle's coat. Knuckle laughed and obliged him, taking his coat off with the same ease and dramatic flair he always did when fighting. Shoot heard it land somewhere else in the room, but couldn't bring himself to care.

It wasn't like Shoot didn't know that Knuckle was well built. Hell, he wasn't exactly slacking himself. But somehow, in this context, seeing Knuckle's muscular chest made his legs feel weak as Knuckle pressed closer to him again, running his fingers up and down Shoot's sides slowly. Shoot laughed softly, wrapping his hand around Knuckle's neck to pull him in for a soft kiss, surprising himself with his own initiative once again. Knuckle caught on quick enough and kissed him back, gentle and slow, smiling against his lips. After a moment, Knuckle pulled back, his hands resting on the edge of Shoot's turtleneck.

"Can I take this off?" Knuckle really wanted the turtleneck off, but if Shoot felt more comfortable with it on, Knuckle really didn't mind, and he hoped his face conveyed as much.

Shoot nodded, lifting his arm to allow Knuckle easier access to the shirt. Knuckle set to the task of getting it off the other man quickly, and within a few moments, both men were completely bare-chested, although Shoot was still, in his opinion, considerably more undressed than Knuckle. As if sensing this, Knuckle quickly undid his simple belt and stepped out of his wide pants, as well as his shoes, leaving both of them in their boxers. The moment he was done, Knuckle was back on him, now able to kiss down his chest, the turtleneck out of the way. He was leaving small marks as he went, and Shoot was making soft, whiny noises each time he did, his hand scrambling against the door with nothing to hold on to. He felt very hot and pulled his hair out of the ponytail as if that would help to calm his senses or his nerves. It didn't.

As Knuckle moved lower and lower, he began to discover the scars left on his torso by Youpi, although the majority were on his arms and legs. Knuckle spent a considerable amount of time pressing his lips gently to each one, whispering something against Shoot's chest, although the taller man couldn't quite make out what he was saying. Eventually, Knuckle reached low enough that he had to properly kneel, kissing at the dips of Shoot's hips, gently and maddeningly slow. After what seemed like an eternity of Knuckle kissing just about every part of his chest, hips, and thighs, he rested his hands on the top of the bandages Shoot wore over his underwear, looking up at the other man with what could only be described as a smirk. it was an unfamiliar expression on Knuckle's face and it stirred something inside of Shoot.

"Do you mind?" Knuckle asked, his hands remaining perfectly still.

Shoot swallowed before nodding enthusiastically, and the moment his head began to move Knuckle was unwrapping him, equally as eager as the taller man. Shoot stepped out of his bandages, laughing a little as he felt a bit awkward, but the feeling dissipated the moment Knuckle tugged his boxers down to his ankles and wrapped his lips around the head of his dick. Shoot's head hit the back of the door again with a dull thunk, mostly muffled by the low moan that escaped his lips. His nails scraped the wood behind him as he tried to find something to dig his fingers into, finding nothing against the unforgiving door behind him.

If Knuckle noticed Shoot’s rapidly fraying sense of control, he did little to acknowledge it, only wrapped one of his large hands around the base of Shoot’s shaft, pumping in time with his mouth as he took him deeper into his mouth. Shoot’s stamina wasn’t the best even on his own, so he knew it wouldn’t be long if Knuckle carried on like this.

The larger man didn’t seem to care as he removed his hand to take Shoot all the way to the hilt in one swift motion, and suddenly Shoot’s hand was buried into Knuckle’s hair, which was rapidly losing its signature pompadour style. Knuckle made an encouraging sound, the vibration traveling along Shoot’s shaft and drawing another desperate moan from him. Deciding he definitely wanted to hear more sounds like that, Knuckle pulled back to breathe only to dive back in without giving the taller man a moment to recover. Shoot practically whined as he dug his fingers tighter into Knuckle’s hair.

Another minute or so and Shoot’s legs started to shake as he felt his release coming. Knuckle could tell, in the way that Shoot’s breathing, or more accurately, panting, sped up and he started to tug at Knuckle's hair to warn him, seemingly unable to form coherent sentences. Deciding he also didn’t want to end things too early, the large man pulled off with a sigh, giving Shoot a few sympathetic pumps in response to his, high, desperate whine.

Knuckle smiled up at the other man, a little cat-like, before standing up, brushing his knees off. He moved in to kiss the other man, and Shoot allowed it, a little surprised with himself. However, he was too impatient to stay like this for long and it wasn’t long before he was giving Knuckle’s shoulder a pointed shoved in the direction of the bedroom. Knuckle stepped back, making a ‘lead the way’ sort of gesture. Shoot obliged him, leading them across the small cottage to his bedroom, and Knuckle kicked the door shut behind them with what was likely more force than was strictly necessary. Again, something that usually would have annoyed Shoot, and yet his brain was foggy and he couldn’t bring himself to do more than register and then immediately forget about it.

Shoot sat down on the edge of his bed, his hand fiddling awkwardly with the covers, and Knuckle joined him a moment later. There were a few seconds of silence that seemed to stretch on uncomfortably long before the larger man broke it.

“Do you have a preference?” Knuckle asked, a little less nonchalant than he was probably going for. Shoot turned to look at him.

“Preference?” He was fairly sure he could infer Knuckle’s meaning, but he didn’t want to assume.

Knuckle laughed, a little forced. “I mean, top or bottom. If you want to, uh, go there, I mean. We don’t have to obviously, it can be a lot and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable because I really like you and everything and I would be really pissed if I screwed this all up with my dick so if you-” Shoot started laughing. Really laughing, high and bright. “Hey don’t-don’t laugh at me!” Knuckle protested, but he was laughing too.

“I’m not!” Shoot argued, although he definitely was. “I’m not, I just-” he wiped his eyes, shaking his head, smiling softly, “you’re just so stupid sometimes!”

“I’m not stupid!” Knuckle shouted, although his tone conveyed a lack of any real anger. Shoot knew Knuckle wasn’t stupid, a 45-minute lesson on Knuckle’s ability when he first took up with Morel had taught him that (and, truth be told, Shoot still wasn’t 100% sure he could explain Chapter 7 Bankruptcy to someone if you really pressed him on it). No, Knuckle wasn’t stupid, just dense. Really, really dense.

“I know, I know.” Shoot told him. “You’re just cute. You’ve got more experience, and I trust you, I want to do it and I want you in charge.” Shoot left it at that as he wormed his way into straddling Knuckle’s muscular thighs. Knuckle flushed, and Shoot felt a surge in his chest at being able to startle the other man, and he laughed again, cupping Knuckle’s jaw and kissing him, Knuckle’s hand’s flying to Shoot’s hips to steady him as he kissed the taller man back.

Shoot had always been nervous around Knuckle. Granted, Shoot had always felt nervous in general. He had always been a timid man, a coward. Thinking through every bad situation before diving in. That would probably never completely change, even now, Shoot’s legs shoot fiercely where they rested either side of Knuckle’s, a tiny voice at the back of his mind telling him to stop, to run, to get out before he gets hurt. To Shoot, Knuckle had always been what he wasn’t. He was brave, confident, brash, loud, optimistic, impulsive, everything Shoot wanted to be, that people had always told him he needed to be. Everyone except for Morel. Morel saw something in Shoot, took him under his wing, and never told him he needed to change. Instead, he worked with Shoot to help him grow. And then came the palace. Then came Gon, charging headfirst into danger. Then came the battle with Youpi. Then came Knuckle.

Objectively speaking, his decision to save Shoot, then turn around to save Shoot’s pride, was a terrible one. The fate of the world rested on their mission succeeding, and Knuckle’s role was just as invaluable as everyone else's. And yet he determined that there were some things more important than saving the world. Knuckle cannot fight someone if it will sacrifice his ideals. He can’t stomach victory if it wasn’t done the right way. For him, avenging Shoot, who to Knuckle, probably looked like he wasn’t far from death, which was probably true, was more important than the entire world. Misplaced ideals, maybe, but it was exactly who Knuckle was.

While he wasn’t consciously aware of it at the time, it was such a staggering display of love for Shoot that the taller man could barely stand to think about it. And that’s why Shoot didn’t feel that crippling nervousness in every cell of his body, why he could ignore the voice in his head and kiss Knuckle like he would never get another chance to do so. Because Knuckle loved him, and for once, Shoot didn’t need to hear it to know it.

After a few minutes of slow kissing, a little giggly, Shoot was feeling rather lightheaded as Knuckle pulled back and hoisted him off his lap, laying him back on the bed before shimming out his boxers and then bracing himself over Shoot’s much thinner body, leading down to kiss at his neck again, drawing more soft whimpers from the taller man.

Knuckle moved down his body methodically, stopping with a final kiss to his pelvis to look back up Shoot. “Do you have-” Shoot nodded, a little too quick, reaching over to dig around in his nightstand, grabbing the small bottle and handing it to Knuckle, red-faced. Knuckle took it with a raised eyebrow but didn’t comment. “Condoms?”

At that, Shoot flushed an even darker shade. “I-Yeah? But I didn’t know-I just bought a few different ones.”

“Meet some pretty village boy?” Knuckle joked, and Shoot protested fiercely.

“No! I just thought maybe somebody would-or I would-I don’t know!” Shoot looked up at the ceiling, throwing his arm over his eyes.

Knuckle just laughed. “Relax, Shoot, I wouldn’t have been mad even if you did.” He moved off the bed to root around in the drawer himself to save Shoot the embarrassment. After a few, he found the right size and brought it with him back to the bed, leaning back on his haunches between Shoot’s knees. “Want a pillow?” Shoot nodded, still feeling a little embarrassed as he took his arm away from his eyes to hand one down to Knuckle.

Knuckle maneuvered the pillow under Shoot’s hips, before coating his fingers liberally with the lube Shoot had provided, resting one by Shoot’s entrance but hesitating to press inside. “May I?”

“Please.” Shoot answered, his voice an octave higher than usual, and Knuckle smirked as he slowly began to press a finger into the taller man. Shoot hissed at the cold but made a vague gesture for Knuckle to continue, knowing that the man wouldn’t hesitate to stop at the first sign of discomfort. Knuckle nodded, before changing positions so he could lay between Shoot’s legs.
As he settled his first finger all the way in, Knuckle took the head of Shoot’s cock back into his mouth. After Shoot had adjusted to the feeling and was starting to move impatiently, Knuckle began to pump into with his mouth, and Shoot moaned low in his throat, his hand clenching tightly in the sheets beneath them.

Knuckle carried on, drawing more sounds from Shoot like it was his purpose in life. After a little while, he popped off of the taller man. “Another?” Shoot nodded, frantic, and Knuckle took him back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks as he added another finger. Shoot whined, but not in pain as Knuckle managed to fit both his finger’s inside of him.

Knuckle began to move with more enthusiasm, changing the angle of his fingers with each pump until finally, Shoot cried out as Knuckle managed to find what he was looking for. Knuckle didn’t take his mouth from him, but he smirked as he continued to hit against that spot.

Shoot felt like he was drifting away. His entire body was on fire as he moaned uninhibited with each thrust of Knuckle’s fingers inside of him. He could feel his nails go through the thin sheets and didn’t care at all. His hair was matted with sweat and he could feel himself getting close. “Knuckle! You-You gotta stop, Knuckle!”

Knuckle immediately stopped his movement, his head snapping up to look at Shoot. “What, what is it?”

Shoot shook his head. “No, no you’re perfect. Just, just wait a moment, I need to calm down.” He was panting as he felt himself back away from the edge for the second time that afternoon.
Knuckle laughed, nodded in understanding, but a few minutes later he was back to it, adding a third finger as Shoot dug his teeth into the pillow beneath his head. Knuckle stretched the other man, practiced and methodical, but Shoot was growing impatient, and he released the pillow between his teeth. “Knuckle, fuck, please-” Shoot rarely swore, and Knuckle was highly amused as he pulled away again.

“Hm?” He asked, teasing.

“Knuckle, I’m ready, I want this, please.” Shoot wasn’t quite begging, but Knuckle was sure he could push him to the point. However, Knuckle was painfully aroused, not to mention a gracious lover, and he nodded, gently pulling his fingers out. He crawled back up Shoot’s body, taking a moment to fit the condom on over himself before bracing his arms either aside of Shoot’s head, adjusting himself so he was positioned at Shoot’s hole.

Knuckle opened his mouth to ask if Shoot was ready, but Shoot cut him off with another whine and an impatient wiggle of his hips, and it was enough encouragement for Knuckle to slip inside of Shoot. Despite the prep, Knuckle was big and Shoot was nervous, so Knuckle had to move slowly and gently as Shoot hissed with every motion.

Eventually, Knuckle bottomed out with a deep moan, waiting for Shoot to adjust as he kissed the taller man deeply. Shoot threw his arm around Knuckle’s neck and Knuckle moved one of his hands to Shoot’s hip. They stayed like that for a while, before Shoot pulled away slowly. “Move, I’m ready.” He told the other man, and Knuckle nodded, kissing him again as he slowly began to draw back before gently thrusting back inside.

He set a slow, almost too slow pace, and it soon became torturous as Shoot started to paw at Knuckle's shoulder, moaning softly as he told the larger man to go faster. Knuckle was never a man known for saying known to Shoot, and he obliged him, pumping his hips faster, his hand digging into Shoot’s bony hip as his thrusts increased in both speed and power.

“Fuck, yes Knuckle!” Shoot cried out, his head tilting back into the pillow behind him, and Knuckle attacked the now exposed neck, sucking hickeys into it with none of the gentleness he had shown against the door earlier as he pounded into the man beneath him.

It wasn’t long before Knuckle could feel his end approaching. Shoot was too good, too noisy, too eager for Knuckle to be anything but on the edge only a few minutes in. However, Knuckle was determined to outlast the other man, and adjusted slightly to fit the hand previously gripping Shoot’s hip between them, wrapping around Shoot’s shaft and pumping eagerly, in time with his thrusts, which were growing sloppier, but no less powerful.

Shoot hissed at the unexpected contact, a noise that turned into a whine and eventually a low moan as Knuckle ran his thumb over the head with each pump of his large hand. Shoot was torn between moving his hips back to meet the larger man’s thrusts or up into the tight grip of Knuckle’s hands. He felt split in two, his whole body alight with sensation, Knuckle’s mouth, Knuckle’s hand, Knuckle’s cock pounding inside of him. It was so much better than his late-night fantasies, and Shoot knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Shit, Knuckle, I can’t, I’m gonna-” Shoot babbled, his arm abandoning its place behind Knuckle’s neck to scrabble at his muscular hips.

Knuckled grinned like a feral cat, showing off his bright teeth. “Come on Shoot, go on, I wanna see,” he encouraged, “show me, Shoot.”

Shoot whined, tucking his head against the larger man’s neck, and a few thrusts later he was cumming across both of their stomachs with a low moan that was probably Knuckle’s name, but neither of them could say for sure.

“Oh, fuck!” Knuckle exclaimed, feeling Shoot’s muscles spasm around him. No longer holding himself back with the goal of getting Shoot to orgasm first, Knuckle moved with a ferocity rarely seen in the gentle hunter, and Shoot bit back into the pillow, overwhelmed and oversensitive and Knuckle gave him no reprieve.

Luckily for both of them, Knuckle wasn’t far behind, and it was only another minute before Knuckle was spilling into the condom with a low, rumbling sound as the arm by Shoot’s head shook with the force of his orgasm.

Despite a desire to collapse on top of Shoot’s frail body, Knuckle resisted, and pulled out gently, Shoot making a slightly displeased noise at the strange, sudden empty feeling. Knuckle mumbled an apology as he removed the condom, tying it off and pitching it into the trashcan by Shoot’s bed, before rolling over to lay on his side by Shoot, smiling and panting.

Shoot remained staring up at the ceiling, although the cum drying on his stomach was beginning to feel more gross than hot and he knew the pair would have to go shower soon, but for now, they simply took a moment to catch their breath.

“So,” Shoot broke the silence, aiming for casual but the shake in his voice betrayed his nerves, “when does Morel expect you back?’

Knuckle wrinkled his nose. “Don’t talk about Morel after I’ve just fucked you.” Shoot laughed, shaking his head. “And, well, he may have, sorta, expelled me?”

“What?” Shoot sat up, giving him an incredulous look. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Knuckle said defensively. “He just, really wanted me to come see you, but he knew I wouldn’t do it unless he kicked me out.”

Shoot shook his head. “You’re so stubborn, honestly.” Shoot paused. “So, are you going back?”

Knuckle laughed, but it was a little high-pitched, forced and strained. “I mean, I wasn’t planning on it. Unless-Do you want me to?”

Shoot shook his head, flailing his one arm violently. “No, no, that wasn’t what I meant! I thought you might’ve wanted to!”

Knuckle looked at him for a long moment, before he burst out laughing, a real, full-chested laugh this time. “God, we’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, we really are.” Shoot smiled faintly before he was leaning down to kiss Knuckle gently. The larger man smiled against his lips and kissed him back, slow and gentle.

Eventually, Shoot pulled back. When Knuckle made a sound of disapproval, Shoot laughed. “Come on, shower.” The other man sighed but got out of bed, and Shoot attempted to do the same, but his legs felt like jelly and he immediately began to topple over.

Luckily, Knuckle was there a second later to steady him, helping him into the bathroom. They managed a short shower, Knuckle insisting that Shoot let him wash his long hair, musing the entire time he did so after Shoot gave in about how soft it was and how much he loved it, braids or not. Shoot only smiled to himself, Knuckle at his back being unable to see how much the sweet words affected him. In fact, Knuckle ended up doing most of the washing for both of him, pointedly ignoring Shoot’s faint protests, and soon enough they were both clean and dry, forgoing clothes as they returned to Shoot’s bed, who begrudgingly changed the sheets before the two could lay down.

It was now late afternoon, but neither man could see a feasible reason to return to the outside world for the rest of the day, nor probably the next few days. All that really needed to be done was for Knuckle to call Morel, which he did sitting up in bed, one hand in Shoot’s still-drying hair, his head resting on Knuckle’s broad chest.

“Yo!” Knuckle opened when Morel picked up the phone, and Shoot swatted him lightly to chastise him for his enthusiasm.

Morel sighed dramatically on the other end of the call. “Yes, Knuckle?”

“I’m just calling to tell you that I’m not coming back for a while,” Knuckle told his teacher, “you were right, boss. Thanks.” Knuckle sniffled, and Shoot could tell he was close to crying again, although he really hoped he wouldn’t.

“I usually am, you should listen to me more.” Morel joked, before calling out to someone else in the room. “Yo, Knov, I won this one!” He covered the receiver, but Knuckle could understand enough to catch Knov’s response, and agitated grumble and an invitation to retire late.
Knuckle flushed, Shoot giving him a curious look. “Are you and Knov-” he tried.

Morel cut him off with a hearty laugh, “We’ve been married for three years, Knuckle. You should learn to be more subtle. You take care of Shoot, and I expect you to keep in contact.”

“Yeah, of course,” Knuckle assured him, “of course, boss.”

A click on the other end and Morel was gone. “Did you know-” Knuckle tried to ask Shoot.

“No clue.” Shoot told him, and a moment later they were both laughing. Shoot tucked himself closer against his chest and closed his eyes. They stayed like that for a long time, Knuckle gently trailing his fingers up and down every part of Shoot’s body he could reach from this position, the taller man drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Hey, I never asked,” Knuckle began, his voice unusually soft and gentle, “how’d you lose your arm?” Knuckle was running his fingers over Shoot’s tattooed shoulder, Shoot’s right arm behind tucked underneath him.

Shoot hesitated for a moment, before sighing. “I was 17, the hunter exam. There was another applicant there, and we had an alliance for the fourth phase. We were on an island, we had to catch 5 magical beasts to pass, so we decided to work together.” Shoot shifted closer to Knuckle, not looking at him as he spoke.

“She and I were trying to catch this foxbear cub. We thought it had been abandoned, but we just didn’t see its mother. I went to grab it and the mother attacked me from the forest. She, the girl, she killed it, the cub too. I think she used nen, not that I had any idea what that was at the time. She was too late though, my arm was completely mauled. She didn’t even patch me up, just took the corpses and left. I almost bled out, I passed out, I think, and woke up on an airship. Flunked the exam that year, and didn’t take it for another 3 years.”

Knuckle nodded, listening. “You lost your arm to a foxbear and decided to become a beast hunter?”

“An unidentified beast hunter, and yes. It wasn’t the foxbear's fault, it was ours, and that girl for leaving me there. Anyways, my arm was gone when I woke up. It’s not a story I’m proud of.” Shoot confessed.

‘Why not?” Knuckle asked, confused.

“Because I lost it to a beast I should have known better to avoid.” Shoot explained like it was obvious.

Knuckle shook his head. “I don’t see it like that. You were taking the hunter exam and made it all the way to the fourth phase. You took on a foxbear and lived, and now you have these sick tattoos. I’d say that’s all pretty badass.”

Knuckle had such a way with words, Shoot thought. “It was a cowardly way to lose it, trying to capture a cub.”

Knuckle’s brow furrowed. “You’re not a coward Shoot.” Shoot opened his mouth the protest, but Knuckle stopped him. “I’m serious. You helped save the world, that doesn’t sound cowardly to me.”

“But I-” Shoot started.

Knuckle cut him off. “Ah, none of that, fool. You’re one the bravest people I’ve met Shoot.” The larger man leaned down, the angle awkward but it was enough to gently kiss the back of Shoot’s head, and Shoot decided to just let it go.

“I love you” he said instead, his voice cracking.

Knuckle nodded. “See? Brave.” He kissed Shoot’s head again. “I love you too, Shoot.”

They fell asleep like that, and a few hours later when nightmares of the palace woke Shoot in the middle of the night, Knuckle held him close and told him he was brave again.

Shoot, caught between memories of the past and the warm feel of Knuckle’s hand in his hair, another at the small of his back, decided to believe him.