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The first rays of sunlight found Leorio in the comfort of his marriage bed. He groaned and stretched and held his hand out to the other side of the bed he knew was empty; and, empty it was, but the spot beside him was still warm.
The faint sound of the running shower resonated inside the small apartment. Leorio groaned again for measure and hastily left the bed with a huff. Stumbling through the apartment, he blinked away the last remnants of a good night’s sleep. He found himself inside the kitchen after barely having avoided hitting the counters with his limbs. This apartment wasn’t made for tall people, he had complained when he first moved in, but he, admittedly, grew attached to it over the years.
He turned on the brewer– his husband had forgotten to do so, and listened as the sound of water stopped. The bathroom door opened not much later. He rubbed his eyes, exhausted from the previous day’s long shift at the hospital. He was holding back a yawn when he heard a soft ugh coming from the bedroom. He smiled despite his exhaustion. Taking it as his cue, he pushed away from the kitchen counter.
“G’Morning,” he could make out Kurapika’s figure in front of the mirror, aggressively fixing his tie. He was, evidently, struggling, and it had Leorio suppressing a shit-eating grin. He decidedly avoided looking at his husband’s reflection in the mirror and turned him around, so that they were facing each other.
“Thank you,” said his husband, sounding already tired and done with it at barely 6 AM. Leorio had always been better at tying his suit ties. He had a two-year head start on the blond, after all. “I thought you had the day off.”
“I’m making the best of it.”
“Smooth.” Kurapika sounded suspicious. “What do you want?”
“Just some time with my husband before he leaves me to rot alone in our apartment on my day off.”
“Nice try, Leorio. I won’t be convinced to call in sick today.”
“How cold.” Leorio cooed; the softness of Kurapika’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by him. He kissed the top of his head. “There’s coffee in the kitchen,” he said as he left the room. He had just finished pouring two cups of coffee when he heard the sounds of light footsteps behind him.
“Want it now?” He asked, not exactly expecting a response. Neither of them was particularly chatty in the mornings. He didn’t look back when his husband’s hand entered his view and snagged a cup from the counter. He heard Kurapika down it all in one gulp. Leorio winced. Some habits die hard, he supposed.
At the corners of his eyes, Leorio noticed a ray of sunlight coming from the kitchen window and mindlessly placed his hand on it. He looked outside, and the sight of the soft morning light made him think of an equally soft scene from almost ten years ago– of a particular sunny morning filled with laughter and the most breathtakingly beautiful smile he had ever seen. He couldn’t picture the scene anymore, but even so, he still felt the imprint it had left on his heart, on his soul, and knew that smile had put the sun to shame.
“Ri-o-le-o,” his love tapped against his back, jolting him out of his stupor. Leorio pulled his hand back and noted the warm feeling the rays of sunshine left behind. “I know it’s getting warmer, and it’s making you sentimental, but I need to go now.”
He turned around and took Kurapika’s hand in his. “I was just thinking– D’you want to meet me at the park after your shift?”
“At our spot?”
“At our spot.”
Leorio heard Kurapika chuckle softly at that. He didn’t look up from where their hands were joined.
“So sentimental,” his husband chided with a tsk. He hummed and took it as a yes. Kurapika grabbed him by the collar, and he closed his eyes as his husband went on his tiptoes.
“Try not to feel so lost without me,” his love said before pressing a soft kiss on his lips. Leorio pressed his body closer and deepened the kiss when Kurapika had meant to pull back. The next moments were spent kissing each other in the soft flush of morning.
Leorio only opened his eyes again after Kurapika pulled away with one last kiss. He watched his husband leave through the front door without looking back and couldn’t help but feel a little lost once he was alone. He had wanted to return to bed after bidding his husband goodbye, but there was a vision in his head and a warm thrum coursing through his body that he wanted to keep forever.
He walked to the drawers of their living room and took out a pen and sketchbook.
The afternoon sun found Leorio sitting underneath the shadow of a particular oak tree in Yorkshin’s City Park and carefully sketching the familiar lines of the man he loved the most.
Too lost in his task of adoration, he never noticed the passersby who were endeared by the sight of a man sitting hunched over with a pencil in his hand and a sketchbook on his lap, spending endless hours of the daylight at the same spot to complete his lovely task and, sometimes, looking off into the distance like he was recalling a fond memory of his lover from long ago.
Some time later found him, the lover, appearing like a shining star in the golden light of the sunset. Not privy to the man under the oak tree, his lover approached him with a look so tender it was glaringly obvious to every passerby in the vicinity who the object of his affection was; the love between the two men must truly be a lovely thing.
With a light tap on his shoulder, the man’s loving act of devotion came to a halt. He slowly removed his hand from the notebook– careful, so as not to smudge his lovely drawing. He stretched and straightened and leaned behind until his back rested against his lover’s chest, granting the shorter man a look at his newest craft.
“You’ve gotten better,” Kurapika said, a smile evident in his voice. Leorio laughed tiredly. He didn’t look at his husband’s face.
“I would hope so. I don’t do much these days but draw you.”
“I am not complaining.” Leorio felt his husband shake his head and knew his smile must have turned cheeky. Kurapika gestured to the Sketchbook. “Do continue.”
Leorio had meant to do so. The drawing had lacked something; his affection never translated well on paper.
“Do you remember that day?”
“I need you to be more specific than that, Leorio.”
Leorio rolled his eyes. Kurapika was acting smart again. “You know damn well– Right here. About te-”
“September first,” Kurapika cut in. Leorio closed his mouth and nodded. “Yes, I remember that day fondly. It was the first time we saw each other again after so long. Why do you ask?”
“Just thinking– D’you remember when I called you that morning? You sounded so happy to hear from me– you looked happy too, but you looked even happier once you saw me– once you realized I had been there all along. I have never seen you smile like that before.”
I have never seen you smile like that ever again, went unsaid.
Kurapika nuzzled his head against Leorio’s. “You speak so fondly of that time,” he said to his neck. “Does our marriage mean nothing to you?”
“Ha Ha Ha,” he laughed humorlessly, but couldn’t help the shiver that went through his body. The blond chuckled, proud of himself.
Leorio put the sketchbook aside and stretched once more before getting up from his seat. Turning around, he noticed that the blond had met him in the middle. Kurapika carefully stretched out his hand, and Leorio took it on his own. He admired the sun’s gleam on his husband’s wedding band before pressing a soft kiss onto it.
“Hello.”
“Hello,” his love said, voice soft. From the corner of his eyes, Leorio could see the outline of Kurapika’s smile. He wanted to kiss him, and so he lowered their hands and leaned down when his husband stopped him with a hand on his chest.
"Leorio." The taller man blinked in surprise. “We have an audience.”
Leorio looked around. People were watching them.
“What?” He didn’t yell, but it was a near thing. “Have you never seen two men kiss before?”
Kurapika spluttered. “Alright,” he intervened with a tired sigh. He had gotten used to Leorio’s brash ways years ago, but alas, it didn’t make it any less embarrassing. Ignoring his husband’s grumbling protests, he hastily grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the scene. “I think all the sunlight is getting to you.”
And with that, walking hand-in-hand, the handsome couple disappeared into the soft glow of the sundown.
The fading daylight found the two in the safety of their apartment.
Leorio sat in the living room, admiring his husband like he often did after the last rays of sunlight had vanished for the day. From the light of the window’s reflection, he could make out the lovely silhouette moving expertly around the kitchen. The quiet sounds of the kitchen filled their apartment; it was a steady rhythm he had come to associate with his life as of late.
At times, he found it hard to believe this was his reality: sharing an apartment, getting married, living in domestic bliss with the love of his life. After all, peace and tranquility had never been characteristic in their lives, much less in their relationship. Leorio and Kurapika had survived countless dangerous missions; some of them were fought alone, some of them were fought together. Perhaps, they had earned this break.
The couple had been sitting together in comfortable silence when Leorio spoke a question he had been meaning to ask since the park.
“Did I draw you correctly this time?”
A beat of silence. It told him everything he needed to know.
“Not quite.” Leorio’s heart shredded itself into pieces.
He was brought back to their last days on the Black Whale. They had been on their journey home from the expedition when Kurapika didn’t show up on his floor one night. Leorio had shrugged off his absence at first, reasoning it was the return of his friend’s terrible habit, but he had some terrible habits himself; and, that’s how Leorio had found himself in his friend’s room, crying at the sight of him.
Kurapika had laughed it off, but Leorio was no idiot. He had known the drawbacks of Emperor Time. He had known his friend had cut his own life short in the name of revenge. He had known the day would come when he would eventually have to lay his friend to rest.
He just hadn’t thought it would happen so soon. Not when they had just barely survived the deadliest mission of their lives. Not when they had almost made it back home. Not when Leorio had just won his friend back.
Kneeling beside the bed where his friend had lain, he began to plead– to himself, to Kurapika, to anyone who would listen. ‘Please, let me save you. I would do anything. I would stop at nothing.’ His plea had sounded like a prayer.
A nen-contract had been made that day. It would be the last time he could ever recall Kurapika’s face.
Leorio knew, he felt it deep inside his soul; he never got Kurapika’s face right. He could never capture the gentle essence of his lover’s being, which he so loved and dearly remembered and endlessly yearned for, but he could never place where he had gone wrong.
The silence of countless, old arguments hung heavy between the two, but Leorio had stopped feeling angry with himself, had stopped feeling angry with Kurapika, years ago; and, if he looked at his husband now, if he were able to, he would see the same kind of fightlessness on the other’s face– the heartache of longing for something so close, yet always out of reach.
“I miss you,” Leorio said, his eyes trained on his lover’s delicate hand and not quite daring to look up. He could live without another reminder that he could meet everyone’s eyes, could remember everyone’s faces– everyone, but his husband’s. “I miss you more than anything.”
Kurapika squeezed his hand. Leorio thought he must be smiling, a sad, lovely thing. “I am right here.”
Not you aren’t. Not really, he didn’t say, but Kurapika had heard it, had seen it on his face, regardless. “Do you ever regret it?”
Leorio swallowed, but he wasn't lying when he said: “Never.”
He stroked his thumb on Kurapika’s. We should hold hands forever, he thought; the feel of his lover’s hand and the weight of his warm body against his side was a stark reminder that, despite everything they went through– every trouble, every fight, every sacrifice– Kurapika was alive and by his side. It should have been the most gracious consolation prize, and yet-
He chanced a glance.
For a split second, he swore he could make out the golden glow of Kurapika’s hair and the faint shine of his grey eyes. For a split second, Leorio swore he was faced with the most beautiful man he had ever seen– the man who shone brighter than the sun.
His eyes burned. He blinked. The image was gone.
Leorio did not dwell on the throbbing pain behind his eyes or the blank space in his mind where the memory of his husband's face should have been. He stood up with a heavy heart and numbly walked the too-familiar path to a particular drawer in their living room. He would not let himself forget Kurapika’s face this time.
With a pen in his hand and a notebook on his lap, he began to draw.
_____
The gaps of sunlight would find Leorio, years later, at the same old spot, sitting underneath the shadow of a particular oak tree in Yorkshin’s City Park with a pencil in his hand and a sketchbook on his lap. He would carefully, lovingly, desperately draw and redraw the same, familiar lines of the man whose face he could not remember.
He could never get Kurapika’s face right.