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When they finally get together, he bombards Killua with “I love you”s. Gon can’t help it. His love for his best friend simply bubbles out of him, too much to contain in his small body. He says it when he sets their breakfast on the table, just cereal but it feels special when they eat it side by side, Killua pressing their shoulders together. He says it when he takes their bowls to the sink to wash. He says it when he passes Killua on his way to take a shower. He says it all day, every day, so much that he doesn’t even think about it anymore. It’s just routine.
He’s pretty sure anyone else would be sick of it, but he can see how Killua melts everytime he hears those words from Gon’s mouth. Whether he’s happy, or angry because Gon’s taken one of his chocorobos, a little “I love you, Killua!” has him grinning at Gon like he’s the entire world (Killua is his entire world). It makes him happy to see Killua happy. So he keeps saying it.
Only, Killua never says it back.
Gon tries not to let it bother him, and he certainly knows Killua loves him. But he can’t help but wonder why. Is Killua ashamed of it? Embarrassed by it? Maybe he doesn’t love Gon, maybe there’s been some huge miscommunication and Killua doesn’t know they’re dating. He’s almost 100% certain that’s not the case, though.
It’s on his mind as they sit together on the couch, watching whatever channel the hotel offers. The brush of Killua’s hair against Gon’s chin as he shifts is enough to drag the boy out of his thoughts and he leans forward to press a kiss to Killua’s head.
“I love you!”
Killua looks up and smiles. “Do you, now?”
“I love you I love you I love you!”
Killua doesn’t relax into it like he usually does, though. His mouth draws into a line, and he meets Gon’s eyes. “Does it bother you, that I don’t say it back?” he asks.
“No, I know you love me,” Gon replies simply. At Killua’s furrowed brow, he elaborates. “You show it to me all the time! Like when you wake up first and get us breakfast, or you let me take the shower first, or when you plan nights out when we visit a new place, or—”
“Okay, okay, got it.” Killua buries his face in Gon’s neck. “I do,” he says, eventually. “I don’t know why I can’t just say it.” His voice is tight with frustration.
Gon runs a hand through his hair as he thinks. He considers Killua's childhood. Every action watched, every word recorded and held against him. He’s heard the stories of what happened when Killua dared to speak back, dared to voice any of his desires that didn’t directly align with what the Zoldycks had planned for him. He couldn’t say things, but he could sometimes do things. When he went on a mission, he could stop for a moment and watch the city. When he was in Heaven’s Arena, he could use his earnings to buy chocolate. Occasionally, he could write something off as a mistake, as a misunderstanding. And as long as he hadn’t said anything on the contrary, there was no evidence of him being rebellious.
It suddenly makes sense to him why Killua can’t bring himself to say it. To say it would be setting it in stone. To say it would mean no turning back, no claiming innocence. To say it would mean being vulnerable to something he holds dear being taken away, and he doesn’t want to lose it. Whether Killua realizes it or not, it’s an attempt at self-preservation.
He takes Killua’s hands in his own. “No one is going to take me away from you, Killua.”
Killua cranes his neck up to look at Gon. “Who said anything about that?” he asks.
“No one. I just wanted you to know.”
Killua huffs and turns back to a more comfortable position.
They sit in a not-uncomfortable silence, each thinking. As he plays with Killua’s hands, tracing down each finger and drawing random shapes, an idea comes to Gon’s mind.
“What if you didn’t have to say it?”
“What?”
Gon draws one of Killua’s hands between them. “What if,” he flips Killua’s hand palm-up, “you didn’t have to say it?” He draws a circle, then six little lines radiating from it. A sun. “What if that meant ‘I love you’ instead?” He lightly taps where he drew the sun.
Killua intensely stares at the hand between them.
“It’s even better than saying ‘I love you,’ because it’s a secret! Nobody else knows what it means,” Gon says with a grin.
Slowly, Killua turns Gon’s hand flat and traces a sun on his palm, finger tracing lightly enough that it nearly tickles.
“Aww, I love you, too, Killua!”
A smile spreads across Killua’s face and he draws another sun, quicker. And then another, and another, and another.
Gon can’t help the giant grin that is pasted across his face as he watches the emotions flicker across Killua’s face. The crease between his eyes softens, and his eyes sparkle with the joy of discovering something new.
A laugh bubbles out of Gon and he smothers Killua in a hug, squeezing tight enough that the other lets out an “oof!” as the wind is knocked out of him.
“You’re crushing me!” Killua whines.
Gon releases him just the slightest bit. “Sorry!” he says, sounding not the least bit sorry.
Killua laughs, and a moment later Gon feels a cool finger trace a sun on his arm.