Chapter Text
“Killua, you’re really beautiful, you know.”
The words repeat within Killua’s mind like a broken record. Beautiful, Gon thinks I’m beautiful.
He’s lying in his bed now, back propped up by his pillows. His blankets and pants which were flung off his body with a hasty throw, now lie in a scrunched mess on the ground.
He is flushed from the tips of his ears to his toes, his heart racing, and has a hand splayed on his chest as he replays the moment in vivid detail–the brightness of Gon’s eyes reflecting such intense honesty and sincerity, the quirk of his smile, his lingering stare as he walked away, leaving Killua with his words– it was all too much. He’d been thinking about Gon and his praise all day, causing a cesspool of heat in the pit of his stomach to grow ever stronger as he impatiently waited until he was alone in the privacy of his room to relieve it.
Now that he is finally alone, Killua allows himself to scrunch his eyes shut and imagine vividly Gon’s earnest face, the strength of his arms, the sharpness of his jaw, and the pink of his mouth as he utters ‘beautiful’. Killua can’t stop thinking about any of it. And he definitely can’t resist the way his hand slides down along the ridges of his stomach, slipping into his underwear and finally around his cock.
Killua gasps in relief at the sensation, hips juddering slightly as sparks of pleasure rush up his spine. His cock is already throbbing red and leaking with precum from being denied all day, making it easy for Killua to slide his palm over it.
Killua groans and splays his legs apart as he starts thrusting into his fist, trying hard to keep his grip loose in order to draw out the sensation–Killua knows all too well that this will be over within a matter of seconds if he gives into the urge to forget all precedents and fuck hard into his fist.
But he must be patient. It’s much better that way. So he keeps a torturedly slow rhythm, the loose grasp just enough to allow the curling heat in his gut to gradually burn hotter, tingles racing all over his body at his languid pace.
Killua scrunches his eyes shut tighter and suddenly images of Gon’s hand replacing his own come to life behind his eyelids and God. He can just imagine Gon being the one to pleasure him, looking determinedly down at him with those eyes that are still so adorably round, lip bitten in concentration as he diligently works Killua’s cock and fuck, Killua has tightened his grip slightly, unable to stop himself as the imaginary Gon pumps him harder.
Killua has been relatively quiet up to this point, his panting breaths the only sound breaking the quiet of the otherwise silent room. He moans loudly, however, when he slides his thumb over the sensitive tip causing him to jolt slightly from the sudden wave of pleasure and he has to slap his free hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Fuck. The action leaves him letting out small moans consistently now, tossing his head back slightly as he repeats the slide of his thumb over and over again, trembling slightly at how good it feels. Imagining Gon to be the one so insistently trying to pleasure him consumes Killua with even more burning heat and he moans hard behind his hand. God, Gon is going to be the death of him.
Ever since they reunited after five years apart, Killua has been plagued with both the rather fortunate and unfortunate revelation that his best friend–the boy who would do anything for the people he loved, the boy who was innocent, pure and light–is now devastatingly attractive.
Killua had been gobsmacked when he first laid eyes on him, feeling as if he had been hit over the head by one of Bisky’s punches–his friend no longer had chubby cheeks and lined with baby fat, he no longer had skinny limbs and a childish aura surrounding him, instead, he was tall, handsome and absolutely ripped, and Killua could barely stand to look at him. Gon looked like a man from those modelling magazines that he stowed away under his bed for private activities. Gon looked like Killua’s wet dream come to life.
But Gon’s blessed good looks weren’t even the worst part, no, Gon just had to be aware of his attractiveness, and confidently so. He held himself with so much self-assuredness and certainty, freely showing off his broad shoulders and muscular chest–so starkly different from his childhood friend that Killua doesn’t know what to do about himself.
Gon never mentioned it aloud, of course. But Killua knows he must know the effect he has on him. He must be teasing him on purpose because of how shamelessly he treats him. They are friends, sure. But Killua has been barraged with sly winks, smirks, nudges, and hugs from the day they came back to each other. And while Killua has been overjoyed to see his friend again, really, he wouldn’t want anything else in the world. But he’s also had the biggest case of blue balls he’s ever had in his life. And today’s comment just pushed him over the edge.
Killua has never cared that much about compliments and praise – he knows he’s talented, he knows he’s good looking. He doesn’t need any affirmations of that. But to hear it from Gon, who Killua would give anything for, with his deep voice and small smirk, and his face so teasingly attractive, Killua couldn’t be blamed for blushing right red and gaping, wide eyed, as his friend simply left. Left him there to mull over his words, think about them again and again until he felt he was going crazy from it. Gon has always made him feel things he has never felt for anyone else, and this was no exception. The boy made him realise he was incredibly homosexual after all.
And Killua has been trying, honest to god trying, not to jack off to his best friend. Because that is creepy and weird and would be betraying Gon’s trust. And he has resisted for a couple of weeks now. But being called beautiful by the boy he’s loved since he was twelve is too much. It strikes a need within him that cannot be sated or oppressed by a simple cold shower and vigorous exercise. No, he doesn’t have the self-control for that.
Instead, he imagines a tan hand surrounding him with blissful heat as the boy atop him whispers again, ‘You’re so beautiful, Killua.’
Remembering the praise sends another helpless moan out of Killua’s throat that may or may not have sounded like Gon’s name. He continues to loosely move his palm up and down his shaft, even though his hips seem to have a mind of their own, thrusting up and down without rhythm, erratic, just desperate with the need for more pressure, more friction, more everything.
Beautiful. Gon thinks I’m beautiful becomes a mantra in Killua’s brain, as each thought of it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. Killua feels lightheaded, all sense and logic gone as his blood rushes southward, urging him on to completion.
He can imagine Gon in the room with him, pushing him down with his strong toned arms, so easily as Killua can’t help but give in to him. He can imagine his smirk and the hard press of his body over him as he pushes a knee between his thighs and rubs it against the hardness of him, relishing in the gasp that Killua would inevitably release.
“So sensitive Killua.” He would whisper into his ear. And Killua can imagine the heat of his breath so clearly against his ear that he lets out a whine which permeates into the silence of the room despite Killua’s attempt to muffle it.
Killua is stroking wilder and more desperate now, picturing Gon clearly in his mind. His grip strong as Gon helps him get off and whispers, “Killua, you’re so so pretty like this. I could watch you like this all day.” And god Killua is so close now.
Then Gon in his imagination, moves a hand downwards and cups his balls, and Killua’s moans are no longer muffled–one hand continues on his cock and the other is southward, causing his stutters and moans to vibrate clearly into the space. But Killua doesn’t care anymore.
Gon keeps muttering words of praise as Killua clutches his sheets with his free hand desperately. The pressure of his fist wrapped himself feels so unbearably good, and he can’t stop his loud moans. He can only hold on as the heat inside of him is almost at its peak.
He’s so fucking close, he would do anything. “Gon!” he moans aloud, “Gon, this is so fucking good- so fucking good.”
Killua knows he should try to keep it down a bit, but the thought of someone hearing somehow makes him flush hotter. “Gon, fuck. God, Don’t stop.”
And then imaginary Gon whispers ‘So good, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. So fucking beautiful. I love you. You’re so fucking beautiful.’ And with one final twist, he teeters off the edge and Killua is coming. The words sparking and causing something to roar in his chest and overwhelming pleasure tingles all through his body, his toes clenching and mouth agape, cum splatters his pale chest as he moans through his orgasm. After what feels like an eternity it stops and Killua feels sated but slightly empty.
I can’t believe I just did that, Killua thinks.
He goes to the bathroom to wipe clean his chest and cock, and jumps back into his bed, feeling lucky that none of his cum managed to splatter his sheets. He can just lie down and sleep.
Fatigue is clouding his brain now, however, Killua still feels a knot of guilt in his stomach. That was the best orgasm he’s had in his life, but the knowledge he might have ruined Gon’s trust in him sours it. He’ll never let Gon know, of course, but keeping it a secret feels just as bad.
Killua drifts off to a restless sleep but is woken to find a green haired boy looking down at him, who, seeing him awake, winks with a toothy grin.
Before panic sets in, Killua has the idle thought that Gon might have heard him.