Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Go to sleep, my love," Kurapika whispers. 

They sluggishly raise a hand to cup Leorio's face, jaw rough with three-day stubble. Leorio breathes a heavy sigh and guides their hand to his lips, pressing tiny kisses to each knuckle.

"Caught me." After a beat, he continues, "I've missed this. Missed us."

Kurapika smiles gently, amused despite their exhaustion. "Me, too. It's nice to have a little peace and quiet. And enough hot water. But we'd get so bored if we stayed like this all the time, without the kids or your studies."

"Who needs a life? I'd live with unhealthy attachment issues for you."

Kurapika is tempted to agree, but Leorio is a horrible enabler. The moment they voice their desire for time alone with him, he'll leap out of bed to email Mito and ask her to keep the children for just a few more days.

"Talk to me?" Kurapika finally asks. "What's keeping you up?"

Leorio refocuses, a frown falling over his features. He squeezes them reassuringly with the arm around their waist. "Don't worry about it, Sunshine. I'll be okay as long as you're by my side."

Kurapika swallows back their worry. They're right to be concerned for him, of course. He hasn't been sleeping well, and he never wants to talk about it. But they have no right to press him for answers, not after they put him through all that pain, running from him and taking years off their life, refusing to answer those damn voicemails. 

The room lapses into stillness, and only the sounds of their soft breathing ground Leorio in the moment. He has to remain aware of his surroundings—of Kurapika's warmth and their weight against him. If he doesn't, he can't be sure they'll stay. He needs them to stay.

"I'm here," Kurapika finally whispers. They lift themself on one elbow to make eye contact, grey irises reflecting the dim glow of the clock on the bedside table. "I'm not going anywhere."

"That's what you said the last time we were in this hotel."

The second those words fall out of his mouth, he regrets them. He promised he wasn't mad, wasn’t holding a grudge. He had forgiven and forgotten when Kurapika apologized. As a doctor, he knows that Kurapika couldn't help their betrayal. Regardless of how much they wanted to stay, the pain driving them was so much louder than Leorio's well-wishes. His wide eyes meet Kurapika's ready to offer an apology, but rather than anger or indignation, they flash him a sad smile.

"I remember. And I remember the time before that, too. But I mean it this time. I've wasted so much—so much time and money and effort and pain, all for nothing. And now I have myself back, and I have you, and I wouldn't give that up for the world. Nothing can take me away from you tonight."

Leorio can't help himself. He pulls Kurapika to his chest again, crushing them in a tight embrace. Tears roll down his cheeks, but he doesn't bother to brush them away. Kurapika's own eyes are misty and tinged red from something other than the digital numbers reading 02:17. They run their fingers through his hair soothingly until his throat feels loose enough that he can speak again.

"I'm sorry. I just keep thinking about all the times I thought I'd lost you. Do you know how many times I cried because I didn't think to kiss you one more time? Do you know how many times I bit my nails to nubs wondering if you were okay? How many times I called you after your message inbox was full? How many times—"

Kurapika interrupts his rambling with a searing kiss. On any other night, they would confess their guilt to every offense they knew pained Leorio, but the twin dehydration headaches they would share from shed tears is too much to bear.

"There's more where that came from—if you shave in the morning. I'm not showing up to the meeting with beard burn."

"What if it wasn't on your face?"

Kurapika senses more than sees the way Leorio pervertedly wags his eyebrows in the dark. They consider it. Then, they kiss him once more on the cheek and settle into a comfortable position, resting their head on one of Leorio's pecs. They yawn.

"Go to sleep, Sunshine. Don't worry about me anymore," Leorio soothes fondly.

Kurapika groans and smacks his bicep. "You know that means I'm going to worry about you more, right?"

"You're exhausted, 'Pika. You need rest."

"So do you!"

Leorio says nothing in his defense but smooths through Kurapika's hair, detangling it and gently massaging his scalp. In return, Kurapika hums a simple, beautiful melody. If Leorio wants to exploit their weaknesses, they'll just have to return the favor.

His touches slow but never stop. The song progresses, and Kurapika transitions to vocalizing and singing aloud. They trace meaningless patterns into the bare skin of Leorio's ribs. The hauntingly beautiful lyrics are in Kurta, and Kurapika has never translated them, but Leorio knows in his heart what they mean.

Kurapika has explained that it's about a love so strong and unconditional as to reshape the earth itself. They use it often at home, both with Leorio and with the kids. They sing it when they brush Nanika's hair or bake with Alluka, and Gon has started trying to recreate it with bird whistles. It's particularly useful in calming Killua's nightmares. He pretends he doesn't have them, but the catatonic state they find him in during the dead of night begs to differ.

Most of all, the song is their wedding vows to Leorio. They sing it to remind him they love him, and they're not going anywhere. Mountains are pebbles at separating them and their love. It means domesticity and protection and faith and pure adoration. And, it's a lovely lullaby that never fails to make Leorio's eyelids heavy.

"Cheater," Leorio mutters. He huffs out a laugh and reaches to pull the blankets back over himself and his husband.

"All's fair in love and war," Kurapika retorts. They hum the chorus again, mindlessly tapping a rhythm against his bicep.

Kurapika, one leg flung over Leorio's waist, traces his face until he stirs, bleary eyes blinking open, unseeing at first. He rubs the sleep out of the corner of his eyes. His hands naturally gravitate to Kurapika's waist, pulling a dopey smile from them.

"Morning, Sunshine," Leorio mumbles.

In the bright light of the noon, Kurapika looks like the sun to Leorio. They're certainly as gorgeous if you ask him. And when the light reflects off their golden hair like a halo, he swears he's met an angel.

Kurapika ghosts a hand over his stubble. "I'm still here."

Leorio blinks. "Would ya look at that? So you are."

"How did you sleep, my love?"

Leorio rolls over, flipping Kurapika onto their back. "Perfect. So perfect that I think I have to do it again. Squish."

He settles his weight squarely on them, burying his face in their neck. They try to worm away from his scratchy jaw, making a noise somewhere between a squeal and a giggle. The sensation of Leorio's beard is somewhere between ticklish and painful.

"Leorio! Let me go!"

Leorio lifts his head as if he's considering doing so. Then, he pecks Kurapika on the cheek and digs his chin back in. Muffled by pillow and skin, he gleefully proclaims, "Never!"

Kurapika pouts. "Leorio, I won't show up to the meeting with a rash!"

"We should skip it."

Kurapika sighs and melts into the mattress. If only they could skip a meeting with the rest of the Zodiacs. For one thing, they're all annoying. Whether it's their relationship or their attire or their spotty attendance, the others always have something to criticize. And they hardly get anything done, even though most of their meetings are held in times of crisis.

Kurapika wraps their arms loosely around Leorio's shoulders and assaults the side of his face with loud, wet kisses. Eventually, he captures their lips with a smacking sound, and Kurapika grins gleefully into their kiss. When they break apart, Kurapika thumbs off a bit of residual saliva from Leorio's cheek.

"As much as I'd love to stay here with you, we should at least show up fashionably late."

"I bet I can convince you otherwise," Leorio brags.

This time, Kurapika sees his raised eyebrow, and this time, they don't say no.