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At the end of the night, all your mind could focus on was getting a good 8 hours of sleep. You knew you had class in the morning, and hoped that the night of partying you drunkenly agreed to wouldn’t affect your ability to show up to the lecture hall.
You turned your key in the lock of your apartment which you shared with your childhood best friend, Chrollo. Since it was nearly 2 in the morning, you expected him to be sleeping already. He never liked to look unkempt, so late nights weren’t his style unless it was absolutely necessary.
Once the door opened with a gentle push from your hands, you found yourself surprised. Chrollo wasn’t locked away in his room as he usually was on a Friday night—no, he sat on the couch, back towards you, speaking to a mysterious blond guy.
The two of them exchanged one last set of harsh whispers once they realized your presence, and stood at the same time.
“Hey, I’m surprised you’re up so late,” you noted, placing your bag down on the small table on the entryway as you stepped across the threshold and began taking off your shoes. The two of them seemed to be finishing up whatever conversation they were engaged in moments earlier, as Chrollo walked the blond man to the door.
“Yes, well, duty calls.” he muttered as he passed by you, attempting to usher the blond out quickly. What was his rush?
You weren’t exactly sure what this “duty” was (and you basically were always left wondering when it came to Chrollo). He didn’t attend university like you did, and had no parents to support him, but somehow always paid his half of the rent on time and had the money to buy his luxurious cars.
You made eye contact with the blond man that Chrollo seemed to be hiding, and his red eyes averted your gaze as he pursed his lips firmly, intent on leaving.
“We’ll speak later. You’re not getting out of this.” He said, before leaving and shutting the door behind him, leaving you and Chrollo standing, facing one another in the cramped hallway.
“One day, you’ll have to tell me exactly what it is that you do.” You insisted, despite the fact that you already knew, more or less. You could only ignore so much before you started jumping to conclusions. The amount of old, rich men who visited your apartment during late nights, the money Chrollo had to spend to fix his car every time a bullet shattered the windows, the inexplicable bruises he sometimes came home with—all of these painted a very bleak picture of your friend’s career.
“Yes, Y/N, I suppose I will,” he agreed flippantly, then stepped into his room, but not before saying, “Someday.”
You rolled your eyes, too tired to care, deciding that a nice, warm shower would be a much better alternative to interrogating Chrollo tonight.
-
-
The next morning, you were dragged out of your fitful slumber by a series of increasingly annoying knocks at the door to your apartment. You groaned and rolled over, mumbling something about Chrollo having to answer the door.
A glance to your nightstand told you that it was 9:29 AM.
Shit.
You had class…. well, 29 minutes ago. You immediately jumped out of bed, ready to haphazardly get ready and stumble into class a full 30 minutes late, but the knocks kept coming.
Wandering out into the living room, you saw Chrollo’s door wide open, his bed neatly made, as if he had not even slept in it last night. You took note of this, going to open the door, first raising yourself up on the pads of your feet to see through the peephole.
A head of long blond hair looked back at you, and you realized it was the man from last night. Not particularly inclined to invite one of Chrollo’s mysterious guests into your apartment without him being there, you hesitated with your hands on the doorknob.
“I know you’re there.” The man said from the other side, clearly annoyed. “Chrollo, this is not funny. We need to talk.”
“Not Chrollo.” You managed to say, your mind beginning to debate whether or not it would be worth it to jump off the balcony to avoid this handsome blond stranger at your door. Him and Chrollo clearly did not seem to be on the best of terms, and you were anything but interested in getting mixed up with Chrollo’s dirty laundry.
“Oh.” he remarked, and then, “Sorry. Is Chrollo there? I need to speak with him.”
You shook your head no, then realized he couldn’t see you. “No.”
“Step back.” He said after your response. Perplexed, you stayed in place, hands still pressed to the door. He repeated himself. “Step back.” This time, his voice scared you enough to make you take a few steps back away from the door.
You heard faint clicking, and, before you could react, the man flung the door open.
You should probably improve the security of your locks.
“What the hell?” you exclaimed, stepping further back, but the blond made no move towards you. He simply stood in the entryway, looking around the room, his grey eyes scanning around, looking for his target. Chrollo.
If you didn’t love Chrollo so much, this would have been a last straw. A random stranger was in your apartment after breaking into it, and—
A ring cut through the deafening silence of the room. The man reached into his pockets gingerly, pulling out a phone and answering the call. The other voice was muffled and low, but you recognized it as Chrollo’s.
Kurapika. That was the only word he said to greet the blond man who stood in the entryway to your living room. So that was his name. Kura… pika. Hm.
“Where are you.” Kurapika’s words weren’t a question. Chrollo barked something back to him, which caused his brow to furrow in frustration.
“And why would I trust you?”
What? What the hell were they talking about?
You can take her. Chrollo said from the other line.
There was no way that he could be talking about—No. Kurapika’s eyes darted to you, halfway pleading and halfway angry, as he hung up the phone and put it back into his pocket, taking a few steps towards you cautiously, causing you to back up against a wall. Christ.
“I’m Kurapika,” he said, his tone gentle but firm, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to be coming with me.” He reached his hand out to yours to take it, but you yanked yours away quickly, shaking your head violently.
“I have class right now,” you explained, sliding to the side and backing away, “so, as much as I’d like to be involved with this whole ordeal, I can’t.”
You turned quickly, walking into your room and shutting the door, making sure to turn the lock after you. Who cared if you’d left Kurapika alone in your living room? You had more important things to do. For one: a test to take.
You heard footsteps pace around your living room, then a door shut, and you felt yourself breathe a sigh of release as you rushed through your morning routine. After around 10 minutes had passed, you gingerly undid the lock on your door, stepping back out into the living room with your bag slung over your shoulder, only to see…
“Ready?” asked Kurapika, who had apparently been waiting this whole time, sitting on your couch with his elbows on his knees. He looked… bored.
“I told you, I have more important things to do. I’m not going to miss class just to be involved in another one of Chrollo’s adventures.” You brushed past him as he stood up, walking out of the door. You shut it behind you, not quite caring whether or not you left the man in your apartment. That was a problem for Chrollo to deal with.
Entering the elevator, you pressed the button to descend to the ground floor, taking a moment once the doors shut to send Chrollo a quick angry text about the situation he’d gotten you involved in. You looked up as the doors opened on the ground floor.
Of course.
Kurapika stood there in front of you, hands in front of him, once again the picture of boredom.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t asking earlier.” He said, and grabbed onto your wrist tightly, pulling you from the elevator. “What’s at stake here is more important than whatever class you have to get to. I’m sure your professor will understand.”
You thought for a moment to protest, to dig your heels into the ground and scream, but thought back to Chrollo’s words to Kurapika over the phone.
You can take her.
You didn’t know everything about Chrollo—where he went during the day, who the mysterious visitors to your apartment were—but you did know that he wouldn’t do anything to put you in harm’s way. Whoever this Kurapika person was, whatever their business with one another could be, Chrollo must trust him.
So you huffed a sigh from your nostrils and let Kurapika lead you outside the doors of your apartment complex, and through the parking lot as he stopped in front of a shining black BMW.
So, he has money.
You took a note of that as he opened the passenger side’s door for you, his hand going to the side of your arm to gently guide you in. His hands were warm, and you could feel the icy cool touch of his many rings through your sleeve.
He walked around, getting into the driver’s seat and pulled away from your apartment, and you watched in silence as the buildings which were so familiar to you whizzed by, as skyscrapers gave way to smaller gray concrete landscapes. The drive seemed to be never-ending.
“Where are you taking me?” You asked into the echoing silence.
“Y/N.” He said as an answer, then he was silent again. Was that it? Did he just want to make sure that was your name?
“Can you talk?” You asked, aggravated at your lack of response. “You’re currently kidnapping me. The least you could do is answer my questions.”
He snapped his eyes to you, and the two of you made eye contact for the first time since they had begun their drive.
“I’m not kidnapping you. This situation…” He peeled his eyes away from you and back onto the road. “…it’s not ideal.”
“Well, would you care to explain?” You pressed, as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. His knuckles went white, and you could tell he didn’t enjoy this conversation.
“Your…” he started, then trailed off as he made a quick turn, “Chrollo. He has something that I need.”
You blinked in response. Was he serious? Did he really aim to kidnap you just so he could get whatever trinket Chrollo was dangling over his head?
“You’re kidding. I could have just asked Chrollo to give it to me. What’s the big deal? Can you tell me where you’re taking me, at least? You’re seriously doing all of this just to get a—“
“No.” He uttered, the bass in his voice deepening. His eyes flashed red, and you recoiled a bit. For the first time, he’d seemed… angry. “It’s too important to have it be handled by just anyone. I need to get it now, so I can leave this godforsaken city.”
His speed began to slow as he made a turn onto a winding backroad, before he finally turned into the parking lot of what seemed to be a private airport. He careened his car into a parking space at the front of the building, and quickly shut off the engine, stepping out.
Curious, you dared to open the door and get out, following near him as he walked to the side entrance, bringing his thumb up to a fingerprint reader near the lock. The screen glowed green, allowing him to open the door. He stepped through, holding it open for you.
“Come on,” he instructed you, and his anger had vanished again.
You followed him despite all of your reservations, as he led you through a series of hallways and doors, finally stopping in front of a door marked with a series of random numbers. He opened the unlocked door to reveal a nearly empty room, with only a small table and a set of chairs at the furthest corner.
“Sit.” He commanded you, and you walked to sit at one of the chairs, the uncomfortable metal stinging your legs. You shifted uncomfortably, and tried to cross your legs, only for your movement to be blocked swiftly.
Brows furrowed, you looked down, trying again to move the two of your legs, but found them to be tethered to the floor by some invisible force.
“Sorry about that. I don’t know what you’re capable of, and I don’t trust Chrollo to hold up his end of this deal if you get away.” Said Kurapika as he slid himself into a chair opposite you. He put his elbows on the table, and pulled out his phone once again.
“Deal? What deal?” You insisted, fidgeting in your seat. “This is crazy. I’m calling Chrollo.”
You reached into your pockets to grab your phone, holding it up to your ear after dialing Chrollo’s number, but Kurapika was fast, grabbing your wrist tightly as he snatched the phone away.
Stunned, you looked down at the two of your hands, and the chains that were connected to Kurapika’s multiple silver rings, and for a moment, the two of you froze in that position, with his hand wrapped around your wrist as he held your phone with the other hand.
The dial tone disappeared, and Kurapika instantly moved his hand away from yours as Chrollo’s voice came through the other line.
“Is everything okay?” He answered coolly, always indifferent, neutral, even as your safety was on the line. This seemed to bother Kurapika.
“Where are you. I don’t need to be kept waiting.” Kurapika said, anger resurfacing in his expression. Chrollo definitely seemed to bring out that side of him.
“Does it matter? I have the eyes, isn’t that the important thing?” Chrollo teased him, and I could almost see the cocky lift of his eyebrow he probably did. That bastard. You loved him, but you’d be damned if he got you killed.
“Chrollo, please,” You pleaded, reaching towards the phone, but in a moment, Kurapika restrained you, and again, you were bound by chains—this time you could see, they somehow connected to those encircling his fingers. You struggled against them, but it was no use.
“Don’t touch her.” Chrollo demanded, any nonchalant air in his voice completely gone.
“I don’t have to.” countered Kurapika, tugging lightly on the chains that bound your feet and your hands, loud enough for the sound of the metal clanking together to be heard by Chrollo.
“Let her go. I said you could have her, not tie her up like cattle.” Chrollo insisted, and Kurapika stared intently at you for a moment, then the chains disappeared as Kurapika let out an annoyed huff.
“If you’re not here in the next hour, I—“
“Save your breath. I’m en route with what you want. I’ll be there.”
And with that, he hung up the phone. The two of you were silent for a moment, then Kurapika sheepishly slid your phone back to you. You took it in your hands, putting it back in your pocket.
“The eyes.” You said out loud. You half-meant to take a mental note of the fact, store it away in the corner of your brain reserved for the weird shit you heard from Chrollo involving his lifestyle. “What did he mean by that?”
Kurapika looked to you, scanning your face momentarily before conceding.
“Your precious Chrollo is a killer, Y/N.” He spat. “Did you know that? Do you ever wonder why he leaves so early in the morning and comes back whenever he pleases, with blood on his shirt? Do you ever wonder why he despises being seen in public? Have you ever thought to consider that, maybe, for a moment…” he got closer to you, “this man that you share a home with has destroyed people?”
A shiver went down your spine. What was he talking about? Of course, you knew Chrollo wasn’t a saint, and you knew he got his hands dirty, but you figured that maybe he was quite the gambler, or had just fallen in with the wrong crowd of people, but never…
“I am the sole survivor of my family. Your friend killed all of my loved ones in some reckless joyride, in search of his next high. Your friend is the reason that I am here, and he is the reason that you cannot leave that chair until he brings me those eyes.”
You were stunned. You didn’t know what to say as you struggle to meet Kurapika’s glowing crimson eyes. You had no idea. Chrollo, the same person as the young boy who had befriended you so many years ago, and would defend you to the ends of the earth, was capable of killing? A whole family, at that?
“The eyes that he has are the last remnants of my people. I’ve been on a wild goose chase across Yorknew for weeks now, following various dead ends. All traps, set up by Chrollo. There is no way I’m letting him get away unscathed now.”
Your eyes widened, as you took in everything Kurapika was saying.
“Are you going to…” you trailed off, hoping he would understand the question that you were screaming inside: Will you kill him? You realized then that you didn’t care if Chrollo was a murderer, or if he had killed Kurapika’s family. You could hate that part of him and still love the Chrollo that you'd grown up with. The Chrollo who’d been there at every one of your birthday parties, who’d laughed with you, and had sat through pointless movie marathons, quietly smirking in the background… he was still worthy of your love. But looking Kurapika in his eyes, and seeing what Chrollo had done to hurt him… you couldn’t stand the thought of it. It made you want to throw up.
“No. I’ve tried many times, though.” Kurapika noted, clenching his jaw. The veins in his hand showed as he fiddled with the chains around his fingers, as if he was aching to use them. He wasn’t over the hurt.
“Please…” you began, but had no idea how you could rationalize your thoughts. Would you beg this man, whose family had been slaughtered by Chrollo, to spare him, because you loved him? Because Chrollo was the best friend you had? “…I’m sorry,” was all you managed to say.
You reached a hand out toward him, extending it diplomatically and placing your palm over the top of his hand. He looked up at you in surprise.
“Why did you do that?” He questioned, although he did not move away from your touch. You let your fingers squeeze his hand gently.
“Because,” you began, meeting his eyes once again, and they were cool and grey, “You don’t deserve that, Kurapika.”
He held your gaze for half of a second, then shook his head resolutely as he slid his arms away and got out of the chair, walking to stand against the wall. He avoided your gaze.
Ignoring the faint sting of rejection, you rose out of your seat and walked over to him, grateful to no longer be restrained by his inexplicable chains, stopping a few feet away.
“Why did you do that?” You repeated his earlier words to you, throwing them back at him. He seemed confused, then frustrated.
“Because, I don’t know you. There’s no reason for you to touch me like that.” He responded.
You managed to hold back a chuckle. Touch him like that? All you’d done was squeezed his hand once, in the way friends did, and he reacted as if you’d romanced him out of his clothes. You reached once again for his hand, and he didn’t back away this time, either, almost leaning into the touch of your hand. You could tell he’d been touch-starved for some time, and it made a pang of sadness ring through you.
You examined him closely while you held his hands. He seemed to be alike to Chrollo in many ways—calm, intelligent, domineering. But it was an act, as you’d seen from his reactions to Chrollo’s taunts. Kurapika was angry. He was hurt, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hide it. Not really, anyway.
You were about to open your mouth to speak again when you noticed him lean in towards you, and in one motion, his lips were upon yours, kissing you.
You blinked once, then twice, as the two of your tongues danced for a moment, your bodies still separated, hands still entwined. He pulled back after a few seconds, and looked ashamed.
“Y/N, I-“ he cut himself off, letting go of your hand, but did not move further away from you. “I’m sorry, that’s just the first time in so long that… that someone has tried…” He lost his words, but you didn’t care. You were barely listening to what he way saying. Instead, all you could focus on was the feeling of his soft pink lips against yours, of his warm breath against you, and his mouth, which tasted of peppermint. So, maybe that was why you, without thinking, closed the gap between the two of you, joining your lips to his in a kiss.
You made no move to deepen anything, but it was only moments before Kurapika’s hands were around your hips, pulling you closer as his tongue entered your mouth. Your hands found his hair, and you struggled to remember to breathe as your heart pounded against your ribcage. You felt him back into the wall, and he slid down to sit on the floor, breaking your lips apart for a moment.
You didn’t have time to react before he led you down with his hand, kissing you desperately, as if it would be the last time he could do so, and your hands wandered underneath his ironed shirt, feeling his warm skin. You were just about to reach further underneath his shirt when the door opened, and none other than Chrollo Lucilfer stepped through.
The two of you separated almost instantly, as Chrollo’s eyes quickly darted from you, to Kurapika, then back to you. Over and over.
“Hm.” he noted, cocking his head slightly as his gaze lingered on Kurapika. Within the blink of an eye, Chrollo was upon Kurapika, slamming his fist into his cheek. Kurapika, surprised, had braced himself enough to prevent himself from going flying across the room.
He staggered back a few steps, wiping a speck of blood from his lip as he shook his head absolutely. “Don’t do this Chrollo.” He warned. His eyes glowed red.
Chrollo laughed, and it was a terrible sound.
“Don’t do what? Try to fuck—“ he spat the word out as if it tasted sour in his mouth, “—Y/N?” He took advantage of the moment to land another punch to Kurapika, who let himself fall to the floor. His body began to tremble with restraint.
You stood back, shocked into silence. You didn't know what surprised you more—the fact that Chrollo was here, beating Kurapika to a pulp, or the fact that he was doing so… over you. Chrollo and you were friends—that was all. Of course, there was no denying the couple of nights you two had spent with one another, but most of those occurred with the assistance of alcohol. Things between you two were completely platonic. If that was the case, what the hell was he doing?
Kurapika didn’t meet Chrollo’s stare. Instead, he faced you, with a look in his eyes you couldn’t discern. You furrowed your brows.
“I told you I wouldn’t kill him,” he muttered, standing up and brushing myself off, “and I won’t be able to stop myself if I start with him now.” He turned away from you. “Hand it over, Chrollo. I’m not doing this with you today.”
“I’m not giving anything to you, you bastard.” He growled, kicking him in the knees, sending him to the ground again. You could sense that if he landed one more hit in, Kurapika would unleash himself.
Apparently, it wouldn’t take one more hit, because Kurapika was upon Chrollo in an instant. Grabbing him by the shirt collar, he hit him square in the eye, backing away afterwards to examine his work. He followed this with a swift knee to the gut, grabbing onto him as he fell over and swinging him to the floor.
You heard a crack.
“Kurapika, no!!” You screamed, rushing over to Chrollo on the floor. Although his expression was pained, he seemed determined to finish what he’d started. “Please, don’t.” you said to him. Although Chrollo was bigger than Kurapika, it was clear that he wouldn’t stand up to him in a fight. Not now, at least.
You turned to face Kurapika, who backed away slowly, trying to regain his composure. He straightened the lapels of his jacket, the chains on his hands clanking lightly as he did so.
“Hand it over, Chrollo. Then we’ll be done with one another.” Kurapika said, his anger clearly just barely shy of releasing. As much as you hated this moment, you didn’t want him to leave. You couldn’t get that look he’d had in his eyes out of your head. Even worse, you couldn't get the feeling of him against you out of your mind.
Chrollo gestured over to a trash bag near the entrance of the room. You could only assume the eyes were in there. The last remnants of his family, of his people—in a trash bag on the floor. You couldn’t think of a bigger middle finger to give.
You wanted to slap Chrollo in that moment, for hurting Kurapika, this mysterious man you had just barely begun to know. And for literally getting you kidnapped. You still hadn’t forgotten that it was his stamp of approval that had caused this whole ordeal.
Kurapika sauntered over to the bag, opening it, examining his contents, and then nodding, once—curtly. He turned back to you, meeting eyes with you once, and opened his lips to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. He pivoted once, and then walked out, shutting the door behind him.
Now engulfed in silence, you met Chrollo’s eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you.” You said, and he rolled his eyes. It was the wrong time for him to begin this territorial pissing contest, especially against the man whose family he had killed.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a smirk, any of his anger now gone from his face. He was, again, the Chrollo that you’d known your entire life. Your hand reached out towards the high point of his cheekbone, brushing over the purplish-red spot that Kurapika’s fist had left. You leaned over, gently placing a kiss on it, and felt Chrollo’s fingers grasp your chin, his touch light as air.
Gently, he lead your lips to his, pressing a kiss against your lips. The kiss felt familiar, old and new all at once, and it was not the first time such a thing had happened. But it would be the last for now. You pulled away from his lips, instantly missing their warmth. You loved Chrollo, yes—like a brother, like a lover, which one it was, you couldn’t quite tell. But for now, you didn’t want to be around him. Not until he’d explained himself.
“I’m going.” You said, and quickly stood up. You wondered if Kurapika had left already. Chrollo rose in protest, then doubled back over, wincing in pain. “I’ll see you at home. But for now, I want to talk to him.”
“Are you serious?” Chrollo half-yelled. He wouldn’t let himself lose his composure again in front of you. You were already at the door when you turned back for a second.
“I’ll see you at home.” You repeated, then opened the door, left, and shut it behind you. You silently prayed that Kurapika was still here, that he hadn’t yet sped away in his sleek BMW back to wherever he’d come from.
Your walk had quickened to a run as you retraced your steps back through the labyrinth of hallways and doors, eventually reaching the same door you had entered through. As you pushed it open, you breathed a sigh of relief to see Kurapika’s car, still parked there, engine running.
You did not think twice before walking towards it, opening the door, and sitting yourself down in the passenger seat. Kurapika was only a bit startled, and made a quick movement out of wiping a singular tear off of his cheek as he looked vacantly into the distance, the plastic bag still in his arms.
You leaned over the compartment between the two of you, placing a kiss on his cheek just as you had done a second ago to Chrollo, but this time, you knew it felt right. Whatever sadness was left on Kurapika’s face quickly disappeared.
“Why did you come?” he asked.
“Why were you waiting?” you countered, and he was silent. You were right, then, He’d waited outside in the hopes of you changing your mind and deciding to come join him.
Neither of you said anything, and, this time, the silence felt comfortable. It felt right. You still had essentially no idea who Kurapika really was, but you reached out to grab his arm, the same as you’d done earlier, and he did not pull away. In fact, he intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“So,” you began finally, using your free hand to buckle your seatbelt, “Where to?”