
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1968612.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hunter_X_Hunter
  Relationship:
      Kurapika/Leorio
  Character:
      Kurapika, Leorio_Paladiknight
  Additional Tags:
      Angst_and_Fluff_and_Smut, Masturbation, Phone_Sex, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot
      What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-05 Words: 1512
****** Minimal ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     'Kurapika.' Leorio's voice is higher than he intends, laced over with
     the relief that always washes through him before he can manage to
     muster the anger he knows he should feel." Kurapika doesn't pick up
     Leorio's calls, but sometimes he calls Leorio first.
Kurapika never picks up Leorio’s calls. Leorio has accepted this, mostly,
recognizes that his attempts to contact the blond will be a failure before they
begin and further recognizes that he can’t let himself stop trying. But for
every dozen times Leorio’s calls ring through to voicemail, there’s once
when his phone rings, late at night or early in the morning, and even if he’s
asleep he always picks up.
He’ll take what he can get.
It’s not that late this time, just going on eleven at night, and Leorio is
awake later than usual. He’s just starting to think about moving towards his
bed from the desk when his phone buzzes on the woof surface beside him. He
glances at it, planning to ignore the call and follow up in the morning -- then
he sees the number, is reaching for it before the adrenaline has even hit his
blood.
“Kurapika.” His voice is higher than he intends, laced over with the relief
that always washes through him before he can manage to muster the anger he
knows he should feel. “Are you okay?”
“Hi.” Kurapika sounds exhausted, Leorio can hear the shadows under his eyes in
the sound of his voice. “I’m fine.”
It’s a lie, if a familiar one, and Leorio knows better than to push. Kurapika
hung up on him once for that, didn’t call him back for a week until Leorio was
frantic with panic. Leorio knows the blond is taking advantage of him, knows he
should offer more backbone and more anger instead of the pathetically grateful
relief that hits him at the sound of Kurapika’s voice, at the reassurance that
Kurapika is still alive, at least. But Kurapika needs someone, if only
sometimes and only on his own schedule, and Leorio loves him too much to not
forgive him over and over and over again.
So “You sound tired,” he says cautiously, pushing back from his desk so he can
move to the greater comfort of the bed.
There’s a sigh, heavy and weighted with all the things Kurapika won’t tell
Leorio he’s doing. “I am.”
The admission speaks more to his exhaustion than anything else. It is rare,
very very rare, for Kurapika to admit to any sort of humanity, even to Leorio.
This has only happened once before, when Kurapika called and just cried into
the other end of the phone for an hour. Leorio never did find out what caused
that, but Kurapika didn’t hang up so he stayed on the line, murmured incoherent
comfort until the sound of sobbing faded off into hiccuping aftershocks.
Leorio’s thinking about that, picking out the tightness under Kurapika’s voice
in his head, when he says, “Sleep would help, if you can.”
“I just want to hear your voice.” Kurapika’s voice is muffled, like he’s
pressing his face against a pillow or maybe has an arm thrown over his face.
There is a pause, then “I miss you.”
Leorio’s throat is the one to close up, this time. He swallows until the
tension subsides enough for speech, though when he manages a response it still
sounds wet and shaky. “I miss you too.”
“I miss your voice,” Kurapika says. He sounds dreamy, like he’s drifting into
unconsciousness and letting words spill into sincerity without the usual filter
of awareness, and Leorio is barely breathing for how hard he’s listening. “I
miss the way you laugh and I miss the way you taste.” He takes a breath, sighs
it out slow and considering, like he’s letting some weight lift up off his
shoulders. “I wish you were here.”
Leorio moves to lie flat on his bed, shifting his weight slowly as if he’s
going to startle Kurapika into silence if he moves too fast. “I just want to
know you’re safe.”
“I’m not,” Kurapika says as calmly as if he’s not acknowledging the perpetual
danger of his current existence. “I wish I was. I wish I had you here, right
now, I wish you were touching me.”
Leorio’s breath catches. When he shuts his eyes he can see Kurapika’s face in
the darkness, can imagine the movement of the blond’s throat when he swallows
hard enough that it’s audible over the phone. “Just talk to me, I want to hear
your voice.”
“I worry about you,” Leorio says without opening his eyes. “I’m always afraid
you’re going to get into trouble while I’m not there with you, that I wouldn’t
even know what had happened for months.”
“I don’t remember what your hands feel like,” Kurapika says, and Leorio isn’t
sure if he wants to groan or cry. His body is flushing hot, doing its best to
encapsulate both reactions at once so he’s starting to go hard at the same time
his eyes are burning with tears. “I think about it all the time but I’m
starting to forget, Leorio, I can remember the way your mouth feels and I can
remember the way you look at me but I can’t remember your touch anymore.”
“I’ll remind you,” Leorio says before he can think better of it. “As soon as
we’re together again, I’ll touch every inch of you, I promise.”
“Please,” Kurapika says. He sounds breathy, like he’s already doing what Leorio
is thinking about. “You’re always so warm, your hands are so much better than
mine.”
Leorio whines wordlessly in the back of his throat. “Are you --”
“I’m thinking about you,” Kurapika cuts him off, and Leorio can hear the heat
in his blood bleeding into his words. “I always do.”
Leorio shudders a breath, switches his phone to his other hand so he can reach
down and push the button on his pants free of the fabric. “Always?”
“Yes.” Kurapika’s voice is dropping low and resonant with pleasure, vibrating
in his throat until the sound of it carries a shiver of echoing want down
Leorio’s spine. “Sometimes I listen to the messages you leave me just so I can
hear your voice.”
“That’s not fair,” Leorio protests as he gets his pants open. “I only have you
when you call me.”
“I’m sorry,” Kurapika says, sounding more breathless than apologetic. When he
gasps an inhale it turns into the leading edge of a moan; Leorio can hear the
movement of the blond’s hand on himself in that sound. “I miss you too much, if
I --” His words cut off into a shudder and Leorio whines, wraps his hand around
his length and starts to stroke over himself in time with the stutter in
Kurapika’s breathing.
“I won’t stay away if I talk to you too much,” Kurapika says fast, like he’s
rushing the words to fit in a single breath. “I don’t want to drag you into
this with me.”
“I want to be with you,” Leorio protests. He’s playing catch-up, he can hear
how close Kurapika is getting on the other end of the line, but the sound of
the blond’s breathing turning into gasps is urging him on faster than he
expected. “I’d be with you right now if I could.”
Kurapika makes a whining sound, sharp and loud before it’s muffled against what
is probably a pillow. His words are still dim when he speaks, but Leorio’s
entirely body is focused on the sound from the phone and when Kurapika says “I
love you” it’s perfectly clear.
All of Leorio’s body flushes hot and shivering in reaction, even before
Kurapika’s breathing stalls into a wail that sounds more pained than pleased.
He can hear the shiver in the blond’s breathing, the tremble of orgasm rippling
through his throat, and Leorio’s whine is more in reaction to Kurapika’s
pleasure than his own. It takes a moment for the blond to recover his breath,
to recollect the pattern of his inhales, and by the time Kurapika manages,
“Leorio?” the other is barely clinging to coherency.
“Kurapika,” he gasps, and he can hear the sharp inhale from the other end of
the line at the tone of his voice. “Don’t hang up, please.”
“I won’t,” Kurapika says, still sounding shaky and warm, and Leorio groans and
the darkness behind his eyelids lights up with the white flare of pleasure.
He’s just opening his eyes, blinking back into his own body, when Kurapika
takes a breath that sounds like farewell even before he speaks.
“Wait,” Leorio says, quick, before Kurapika can get going. “Don’t hang up,
don’t go.”
“I have to,” Kurapika says, and Leorio can hear the aching want in his voice,
it stops any protest he might make before he can form it into words. “I miss
you.”
“I miss you too,” Leorio says, and when he blinks his eyes burn with tears. “I
miss you so much.” Kurapika takes a breath, deliberate and bracing, and Leorio
shuts his eyes and says, “I love you.”
There is a brief pause, a hesitation hanging in the time and the distance and
the responsibilities between them. Then Kurapika offers a laugh that sounds
like a sob, and says, “Goodnight, Leorio,” and the line goes dead.
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