Chapter Text
The Kurta language is, to an outsider's ear, a bizarre hodgepodge. There are too many consonants, not enough sibilants to soften the staccato rhythm, and the whole mess is further complicated by a series of tones, making for an uncharacteristically discordant singsong. In short, it seems there are only two kinds of people who could possibly find it beautiful- devoted linguists, and the Kurta people themselves.
Leorio belongs in neither category; that much is obvious to anyone who knows him, and if someone doesn't, he'll gladly volunteer the information. Still, he came by his fascination with the language honestly enough. He's friends with the last living Kurta, after all, and the words pop up at times. Catch enough glimpses of something rare and mysterious, and a man is bound to get curious; it's human nature.
While his initial interest might have been perfectly innocuous, though, the way in which Leorio has gained a deeper appreciation for the language isn't quite so innocent. There are very few times at which Kurapika lapses into his native language; really, there are only two main situations, and the latter is where Leorio finds himself getting into trouble far too often.
First, there are certain terms in Kurta that simply don't translate well, complex and specific emotions or situations summed up by a single word in their language. When Kurapika pauses to search for an equivalent, he'll more than likely mention the term he's looking to convey. If Leorio can spend hours enthralled by his friend's explanations, watching the normally reserved veneer fall away as he discusses a subject so dear to him, that's normal- healthy, even. It's good for Kurapika to share, and Leorio is all too happy to learn.
The second situation, though, is Leorio's favorite by far. It shouldn't be, but it is. For all the talk of a Kurta's eyes being the best indicator of strong emotions, Leorio has discovered that isn't entirely true. Oh, Kurapika's eyes change, of course; there are varying hues, from the soft pink of happiness, to anger's fiery red, to a bloody self-loathing crimson that Leorio hopes never to see again. The brightness indicates the degree of feeling: in his most passionate moments, Kurapika can illuminate a dark room. Still, despite all of this, the best sign that Kurapika is truly lost in his emotions is not his eyes, but his mouth.
The occasional hissed expletive in Kurta is fairly commonplace; Kurapika is more likely to let fly with another of the languages in his arsenal, but when the situation calls more for catharsis than communication, he falls back on his native tongue. It's rare to get more than a word or two out of him, but there are times when it just flows. For Leorio, there is nothing in the world more enchanting than those moments, though he initially couldn't (or wouldn't) put his finger on why. Whatever the reason, though, he was fascinated from the start, and so he set about coaxing Kurta from his friend as often as he could. If it just so happens that his go-to method for doing so nowadays is to stretch Kurapika's patience to the breaking point, Leorio can't be blamed entirely for that; anger is simple, quick to flare up, relatively easy to quench so long as he keeps the arguments good-natured. He's a doctor, or will be soon enough, and Occam's Razor is ingrained in his psyche.
Having those scarlet eyes directed at him, being the target of Kurapika's tirade- and more importantly, his passion- is merely an added bonus, or so Leorio had thought at first. It was during one of those tirades, though, with Kurapika's face scant centimeters from Leorio's, that the good doctor had an epiphany.
As it turns out, he was quite interested in Kurapika's native tongue.
He was absolutely interested in Kurapika's tongue.
And above all, he was interested in exploring Kurapika's tongue with his own.
By the time Leorio's mind caught up to his body and he realized this series of indisputable truths, he was already on the floor, one cheek rapidly reddening with a distinct handprint. An incredulous Kurapika was staring down at at him, eyes flickering between angry red and a hue closer to magenta that Leorio had been unable to identify until that very moment. And when Leorio murmured something along the lines of 'fight later, kiss now,' Kurapika pounced.
As it turned out, the linguistic fascination was mutual.
It's become something of a game now, a test to see how long they can antagonize one another before someone (usually Leorio) succumbs to the temptation and closes the gap between them. Leorio supposes after almost a week of at least one "argument" a day, Kurapika might accept a kiss now without the theatrics beforehand, but he's not going to try until he's one hundred percent certain. Whatever this is between them, it's gone unspoken thus far, Leorio's only attempt to the contrary earning him an elbow in the ribs and a warning not to overthink things. The irony of that statement coming from the person most likely to analyze literally everything still has Leorio a bit miffed, but he's wise enough not to push. Their relationship is changing, hopefully for the better, but too much pressure at the wrong time could ruin everything, possibly even damage their friendship.
No matter what, Leorio won't risk losing Kurapika. He'll push his burgeoning feelings aside, save the thoughts of romance for some other time... if they ever get there. He still doesn't know what Kurapika wants from this, after all.
For now, it's enough to have those magenta eyes boring into his soul as Kurapika looks up, teeth holding his lower lip as he unbuckles Leorio's belt. Nimble fingers undo his slacks- button, zipper, that pointless second button behind the zipper- and tug them down to his knees. Everything from above their waists is a trail of clothes strewn from the couch to Leorio's bedroom, where heavy blinds keep the room dark enough to sleep at any hour, and Leorio can't help but feel a touch of nerves. This is the farthest they've ever gone; some part of him is worried he'll disappoint Kurapika somehow, though he'll do his damnedest to prove that thought wrong.
Leorio doesn't know what Kurapika wants from whatever this is between them, but he knows Kurapika wants him, right here and now, and that's enough for the time being.
As Kurapika palms Leorio's hardness through the boxer briefs, that delicate mouth drops open, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. Kurapika's eyes meet Leorio's, wordlessly seeking permission, and he lifts his hips off the bed to answer, letting Kurapika hook his fingers under the elastic and drag his last garment down past neatly-trimmed hair. Leorio isn't one for shaving his body hair completely; he refuses to sacrifice his happy trail, and he despises itchy stubble and razor bumps anywhere, much less somewhere this sensitive. Still, he keeps it all groomed, just long enough to be soft rather than bristly. And since he's freshly out of the shower, it's not the sweaty, swampy mess that develops by the end of the day- one point in favor of morning sex.
Leorio's member springs free of the elastic, swinging back to thump against his lower abdomen, and he looks at Kurapika, instinctively bracing himself for the reaction. The running myth about tall men and certain correlations doesn't hold true in his case, though he's still above average; he just hopes Kurapika isn't as invested in stereotypes as some of the girls he's known.
The little O formed by Kurapika's lips isn't one of disappointment, though; far from it. Slowly, almost reverently, his fingers reach out to trace along the length of Leorio's cock, applying just enough pressure to tease without tickling. They travel from tip to base, then lift off to start the journey again. On the next pass, those fingers wrap around him, dragging a groan from Leorio's mouth as they pump slowly downward. Kurapika's hand is pale, standing in stark contrast against Leorio's flesh; a little part of him crows in utterly juvenile triumph when he notes that Kurapika's index finger and thumb are barely able to touch as they encircle the shaft. It's no achievement of his own, merely a roll of the genetic dice, but it's still an ego boost.
Kurapika murmurs something in Kurta; Leorio doesn't recognize much of it, but given the direction of his companion's gaze and the tone, he can fill in the blanks. It's all he can do not to sputter out a thanks; he's already in danger of spooking Kurapika even without letting on that he might be privy to things he isn't meant to understand. That train of thought disappears into nothing, though, as Kurapika's tongue paints a swath of warm, wet heaven from the top of Leorio's sack all the way up to the tip of his glans.
As vocal as Leorio is in his daily life, he's always been the strong, silent type in bed, so it comes as a shock to him when a ragged moan flies out of his mouth before he can stop it. His lips clamp together as tight as he can manage without the risk of biting through, and he tilts his head back to hide his blush, not that it's successful. He can't help but sneak a peek downwards, and when he does, he's greeted with magenta eyes and a smirk that's equal parts amused and predatory. When Kurapika repeats the motion, this time a little slower and more pronounced, Leorio tries his level best to keep quiet.
Never in his life has he been this fine with failing so miserably at something.
He doesn't care if Kurapika laughs at him, even, as long as he keeps doing more of that.
On the third lick, Kurapika lets the head pop into his mouth, and Leorio is rapidly redefining his views on the existence of some sort of benevolent deity; rocky past aside, something this mind-blowing makes him ready to believe, if only to ensure he gets something like this for eternity. He's not sure whether it's his feelings for his partner that are making every sensation so extraordinary, or if Kurapika's mouth really is hotter and wetter than Leorio's previous lovers. Either way, the effect is very real, and enough to make Leorio stop analyzing it in favor of savoring the experience.
Leorio's eyes flutter, and he tilts his head back, taking several deep breaths for composure; when he's ready, he looks back down, and is nearly undone anyway. There's no way in hell he could ever be prepared for reality to mirror his most lurid fantasies: Kurapika's lips are wrapped around Leorio's cock, eyes shining bright enough to reflect off of Leorio's abs and illuminate the curve of his arched back. The corners of his eyes crinkle with effort as he bobs his head, taking the length deeper with each pass, until he draws away, letting it slide out of his mouth with an obscene pop. Panting ever so slightly, he fixes Leorio with a teasing smile, letting his tongue trace his lips with relish.
In an instant Leorio has lifted Kurapika from the floor and flung him bodily onto the bed, yanking Kurapika's sweatpants down even as he kicks the remnants of his own clothing to the floor. Impatient as he is, there's no time for the anticipation and nerves as Kurapika's member comes into view: one second it's tenting those pants, and the next it's bobbing in front of Leorio's face, tall and hard and dripping beads of moisture that just beg to be tasted. It's not quite as girthy as Leorio's, and just a bit longer. It's a good thing he's never had much of a gag reflex: he wants to see the look on Kurapika's face as he takes it all, centimeter by centimeter.
"Leorio." The name is harsh in the best of ways, anticipation and desire turning that confident tenor to a rasp. When Leorio turns the tables, copying Kurapika's languid lick, that rasp turns to a whimper. Pale fingers clutch at the sheets, and Kurapika's lower lip disappears between his teeth, a blush dusting his cheeks. He meets Leorio's gaze, just barely; those not-scarlet eyes are half-hidden beneath lids that seem unsure whether to screw themselves shut or go impossibly wide. It's better than his fantasies, even better than his prior view; as near-orgasmic as seeing Kurapika's mouth on Leorio's cock might be, there's something even better about seeing careful, composed Kurapika coming apart so completely in his grasp.
As Leorio slides his mouth over the head of Kurapika's member, careful to wrap his lips over his teeth, he analyzes the taste of precum- musky, salty, not sweet in the least. He'd be much less enthusiastic about that flavor if it were associated with anything or anyone else, he decides, then sets to coaxing more of it out. There's no way he'll be as skilled with his tongue as Kurapika, in this or any other context, but he has one useless party trick that will finally come in handy for something worthwhile.
He bobs his head once, twice, three times, each time reaching a bit farther down the shaft, then stops when the head touches the back of his throat. Glancing up, Leorio settles down a bit lower, then looks Kurapika dead in the eye as he slowly takes the entire length into his mouth, nose bumping against a smooth-shaven pelvis. The ragged groan and the tremors in Kurapika's thighs as his hips rise involuntarily are reward enough, but when Kurapika lets loose a string of Kurta with the vowels drawn out in ecstasy, Leorio has a new favorite way to get Kurapika to speak his native tongue.
A nonexistent gag reflex truly is a blessing at times like these.
Rising up and freeing his windpipe of the otherwise welcome obstruction, Leorio takes a deep breath and starts in earnest, throwing nearly every dirty, devious little trick he's seen into the mix. This may be his first time giving a blowjob, but he's been on the other end of things often enough to know a thing or two. Now it's just a matter of finding his lover's weak spots and exploiting them. Just as he starts to get a feel for what drives Kurapika wild, though, insistent hands are pushing at his shoulders, lifting him up until Kurapika's member pops out of his mouth, along with a not insignificant stream of drool. Looking up, Leorio lets out the breath he's been holding and greedily sucks in another one. "I do something wrong?"
"The opposite," Kurapika says through gritted teeth, eyes screwed shut as he breathes deeply. After a moment, he opens his eyes and blushes, not quite meeting Leorio's gaze. "I was about to..." He chews his lip, searching for the word. "Embarrass myself. I'm sure there's an expression for that, but I only know it in Kurta. It roughly translates to 'spring the trap early'."
As understanding hits Leorio, so does a swell of pride. "Y'know, I'm totally fine with you springing that trap anytime," he says with a pointed glance at Kurapika's visibly throbbing cock.
"But I'm not," Kurapika says, tugging Leorio up into bed and pulling him into a kiss that makes his head spin. As their hands roam, tracing and gliding and scratching and squeezing, that smoky voice whispers in Leorio's ear, punctuation coming in the form of little nips. "I want to make you feel good too. I want all of you, Leorio."
If Leorio had thought his heart was hammering as hard as it could before, it's about to break out of his ribcage after that statement. "Fuck, Pika, yes," he groans, another pulse of his cock depositing even more precum on his companion's abs. It's happening; after a week of wondering, after years of dancing around each other, they're finally going to go through with this. If this is a dream, Leorio would prefer to die in his sleep rather than wake up from it.
"Wanna fuck you," Kurapika hisses, grabbing hold of Leorio's ass and squeezing. His demeanor has shifted, baser instincts overriding his usual composure, and hell if that dirty, unsophisticated talk coming from someone so eloquent isn't just about the hottest thing Leorio's ever heard. "Wanna fill you up with my cock and make you come all over yourself."
"Yeah." Leorio is so caught up in the feeling, the rightness of this moment, that it's only after Kurapika slides out from under him and reaches into the nightstand that his friend's words sink in. "Wait, you... uh... fuck me? Like, my ass?"
Kurapika twists at the hip to look back, and the sight of him- lithe, toned body perfectly posed to show off everything, including that sardonic smirk- makes Leorio itch to capture the moment with a photo. Maybe another time, he'll dust off his old camera and show Kurapika just how beautiful he is.
"Generally speaking, given our particular set of anatomy, that tends to be how that goes," Kurapika observes in a tone drier than a pharmacology textbook, snapping Leorio back to the present. The magenta glow in his eyes has dimmed, but not entirely. "Did you have something else in mind?"
"Uh," he supplies, perpetually elegant. "Well, I guess I was kind of assuming that-"
A dangerous flash of scarlet. "Leorio, if the next words out of your mouth are some sort of macho bullshit about bottoming being inherently feminine or submissive, I swear I will kick you out of the apartment naked and finish myself off with my hand."
"No, no, nothing like that!" Leorio blurts it out as fast as he can, then stops short to consider his next words. "I just figure you probably have more experience than me with it."
"You figure?" The threat in the question is palpable, even without the dangerously arched eyebrow to accompany it.
Leorio shrugs. "Well, yeah. Any experience is more than no experience, right?"
Kurapika's expression softens, and he brings himself around to face Leorio fully, the bottle of lubricant in his hand suddenly daunting rather than enticing. "For the record... I don't have any experience with that either." He lets out a sigh, averting his gaze. "I'm just so tired of all the assumptions based on my appearance that I've always insisted on going against the expectation."
"Now that's the Pika I know," Leorio says with a chuckle. "You chugged my burning-hot coffee that one time just cause I said you didn't strike me as a coffee drinker."
"Not my proudest moment, but I had a point to prove." A rueful grin tugs at Kurapika's mouth for just a moment, then he bites his lip, finally meeting Leorio's eyes. "I'm not saying I'll never let you do that to me in the future, but... this time, if it's okay with you..."
Leorio's answer is a searing, ravenous kiss that cuts off any need for explanation, fueled in part by the fact that they're on the same page again and this is actually happening, and in a larger part by Kurapika's mention of a future for them and the implication that this thing between them can keep going and will keep going. "I want your cock inside me," he whispers, and his own member stirs to life as brown eyes ignite with magenta desire once more.
Kurapika lets out a growl, an animalistic sound that matches the fervor in his eyes, and he pushes Leorio down onto his back, kneeling between his partner's thighs as he rakes his gaze over the flesh he's about to claim so intimately. His expression is intense, even a bit frightening, but after a moment he returns to his senses, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Sorry, I just... don't say that yet. I want to make sure you enjoy this too, but you saying that..." He shudders, then collects himself and begins kissing his way down Leorio's torso. "We'll go slow. Let me know what feels good or doesn't, okay?"
Leorio murmurs some kind of assent, the majority of his nervousness banished by the tenderness and restraint Kurapika is displaying. The click of a cap, a moment's pause, and there's something cold and wet pressing against Leorio, gentle but insistent as it circles his entrance. It's a good thirty seconds or so before a finger ever so gently delves into him, sliding in so easily that he's actually surprised to find it inside him. "You're good at this," he says, just above a whisper. "My fingers never just slip in like that."
The finger goes a bit deeper, wiggling in an odd but not unpleasant fashion, and Kurapika makes a sound of amusement. "I thought you said no experience at all?"
"I may have... tried on myself every now and then, but that doesn't count. It doesn't feel anything like what you-" the last vowel catches and draws out into a shaky ooh as a second finger joins the first, rotating and spreading gently as they both work their way back to the depth the first had reached. "Damn. That feels weird, but good kind of weird."
A thoughtful noise, and suddenly Kurapika's tongue is bathing Leorio's sack, his free hand coming up to stroke that waning erection back to full tumescence. It's in that moment that Leorio understands what guys get out of bottoming; every stroke of his cock, every movement of those fingers inside him, is so much more intense than usual. Maybe it's the angle, maybe it's the fact that it's not his own fingers, maybe it's just that Kurapika is the one whose skillful hands are making him writhe and moan, but whatever the case, this feels incredible.
The addition of a third finger, however well-lubricated, is enough to make Leorio grunt in discomfort, body tensing up. "That's a little much," he manages, grateful to feel Kurapika's hand stilling instantly.
"Let me try something," that husky voice muses, and then Kurapika's mouth has encircled his cock, tongue playing along the underside in ways that make Leorio's legs quiver. A few seconds of this treatment, and all three fingers glide in with only the smallest hint of resistance. When they crook upwards to stroke against something firm that sends sparks radiating out all the way to Leorio's face, his whimper causes Kurapika to halt and pull away from his ministrations. "Bad?" he asks, a tinge of worry in his voice.
"Good," Leorio corrects, semi-delirious. "So good. Wanna feel you in me."
A look crosses Kurapika's face, a raw, lascivious hunger, but it gives way to uncertainty. "It's your first time; I don't know if that was enough preparation. I don't want to hurt-"
"You won't," Leorio babbles, absolutely certain despite his glaring lack of experience. This is Kurapika, and that's all he needs to know to believe it one hundred percent. "Please, Pika."
Kurapika's hips twitch forward of their own volition, and he draws his fingers out of Leorio slowly, gently. Leorio appreciates the consideration; he's made the mistake of pulling his own out too fast before, and it's not a pleasant feeling. "I..." Kurapika stares at him with a semi-dazed look, as though trying to remember something important. A second later, recognition dawns. "Condom? I don't have any here."
"It's okay," Leorio reassures him. "I get tested regularly, and there hasn't been anybody for... way more than long enough for anything to have shown up." A hint of a blush burns at his cheeks; as much as he likes to portray himself as a playboy, he hasn't gone past kissing with anyone in almost a year. It just seems pointless, somehow.
"Same here." Kurapika averts his eyes, an almost apologetic smile on his face. "It's been... embarrassingly long. On a related note, please don't hold it against me if I..." He trails off, blushing.
Leorio grins. "Spring the trap early?" At Kurapika's embarrassed nod, he threads his fingers through silky blond hair and draws his friend down into a tender but insistent kiss. "I don't care how quick you come, Pika, as long as you do it inside me."
The words draw a shuddering gasp from Kurapika, and then he's stroking both of their cocks, bringing them back to full mast once again. "It's usually easier if you're on your knees," he says, releasing Leorio just long enough for him to shift positions. There's the sound of the bottle opening, of slickness being applied to firm, eager flesh, and Kurapika settles in closer.
Ten seconds of fumbling later, there's a sigh. "Or not. Spread your legs wider or lean forward; we need to bring your ass lower." He mutters something else under his breath, and it sounds suspiciously like fucking giant.
"How low do I need to go, short stuff?" Leorio teases, looking back over his shoulder. "Need a couple pillows, or should we go straight for a stepladder?"
"Tell me, Leorio," Kurapika croons, voice dangerously smooth, especially in light of the slightly redder hue to his eyes, "Have you ever tested how far your testicles can stretch from your body before you start screaming? Because they're at just the right height to conduct that little experiment."
Needless to say, Leorio's ass is down in record time. Kurapika, to his credit, wastes no time in renewing his assault on Leorio's sanity, one hand sliding up and down Leorio's length even as the head of his own cock rests at Leorio's entrance. "Tell me what you want." The words are low, almost growled, an undeniable command that Leorio is only too glad to obey.
"Fuck me, Pika," he breathes. "I want you to put your cock in me." And just like that, there's pressure, patient but insistent, and in the wake of a particularly pleasurable stroke to Leorio's member, the head of Kurapika's cock pops in, drawing a joint gasp from them. The rest starts to go in slowly, agonizingly slowly, but it's probably for the best; three fingers was just enough preparation, but Kurapika's girth stretches him even more, riding the edge between odd and outright uncomfortable. As Leorio begins to relax, though, Kurapika sets up a gentle, subtle rhythm: in a few centimeters, out just a bit, in a little farther. It's an awkward intrusion, but somehow relaxing nonetheless. In just a few minutes, Kurapika is well and truly inside him, and that knowledge by itself makes Leorio let out a contented moan. He's glad Kurapika isn't as massive as the guys he's seen in porn; even this feels huge when it's in his ass. "Big," he groans into the bedsheets, "So fucking big."
"Does it... does it feel all right?" Kurapika's voice betrays his strain, the white-knuckled grip on his self-control that keeps him from slamming into Leorio. And right now, Leorio is grateful that their positions aren't reversed; he's not sure he could conjure up that much control with Kurapika writhing under him. "Are you ready for more, Leorio?"
Leorio's eyes go wide, mouth agape as he turns his head. "There's more?"
"I'm about... halfway in," Kurapika admits, a sympathetic blush dusting his cheeks. "If you're not ready for it, it's okay. I can keep this up, just like this. It still feels-"
Whatever Kurapika might have said is lost in a strangled moan as Leorio pushes back, driving the cock deeper. Unfortunately for Leorio, his enthusiasm is rewarded with a painful twinge in a place that had heretofore been unfamiliar with pain. "Okay, ow. Bad idea," he manages between gritted teeth. "Different position?"
With a nod, Kurapika slowly pulls out, lying on his back. "If you're on top, you can do what feels best for you," he says, dribbling more lube in his hand and applying it liberally to his member.
It takes a few tries, but as Leorio sinks down atop Kurapika, the new angle draws a moan of pleasure out of him that radiates all the way to his toes and makes his eyes slide shut. His hands find their way to Kurapika's chest, bracing for balance as he begins to ride his lover, slow and uncertain but no less eager for his inexperience. Deeper and deeper he goes, until his ass finally comes to rest against Kurapika's hips. He's so impossibly full, and it feels incredible. Finally opening his eyes again, he takes in the sight of Kurapika, and is transfixed.
The light from his lover's eyes is between pink and magenta now, and bright enough to bathe the entire room in its glow. Kurapika's abs are tense, fingers fisted in the sheets, his whole body quivering with the effort of not thrusting upwards, even as his mouth hangs open to let out soft little sounds of pleasure. He's trying so hard to control himself, and Leorio's heart melts at the sight.
"You can move if you want," Leorio whispers, almost fearing that if he speaks too loudly this spell between them might break. With that, he reaches to his cock with one hand, the other still on Kurapika's chest, and begins to ride him- slowly at first, then gaining speed with each few seconds. Despite his tendency to stay largely silent during sex, he finds words tumbling out of his mouth unbidden- cries to a deity he doesn't believe in, curses of purest pleasure, praise for this amazing, wonderful person who's gently bucking up into him, brushing against spots that make his entire body shudder.
His words seem to ignite something deep in Kurapika; with a growl bordering on feral, he sits upright and pushes Leorio down onto his back even as he grabs hold of Leorio's calves and wraps his legs around his waist, reversing their positions without even pulling out or stopping. In fact, he increases his speed, tilting Leorio's hips until he grazes that sweet spot just right, and again, and as sparks dance all through Leorio's body, Kurapika begins to grunt out Kurta endearments with each thrust. Most, Leorio doesn't recognize, and doesn't need to; the guttural, needy tone says enough, so when he hears you and hot and good, it's enough to draw encouragements from his own lips, albeit in a language that seems far less wondrous than the one on his lover's tongue.
They're getting close; both are growing erratic, almost sloppy as the impending wave of ecstasy rushes toward them. Leorio's hand moves in short, rapid strokes, concentrating his attentions where he's most sensitive. He manages some sort of hasty, vaguely coherent warning before the electric current pools in his pelvis and reduces his vocabulary to two syllables- Pika spills from him in a myriad of tones, spurts of sound mirroring his release. He strokes himself through his completion, riding it out until his cock grows too sensitive, then turns his attention to Kurapika.
It's the most beautiful sight Leorio has ever seen; Kurapika's eyes still glow with that most glorious shade of pinkish magenta, illuminating a face full of desperation and vulnerability that he can hide no more than the sweat beading on his brow and glistening as it rolls down his chest. He's whispering something in Kurta, a continuous, babbling sentence that seems like the most important message in the world. There's a phrase that Kurapika keeps repeating, different variations of the same statement; part of it catches at Leorio's memory, and he closes his eyes, willing himself to remember.
Recognition slams into Leorio just as Kurapika's litany turns to a strangled cry. Kurapika brings their mouths together, less of a kiss than an attempt to hide the whimpers and growls that accompany his climax. His member pulses inside Leorio, and there's a muted feeling of heat delving even deeper. Under other circumstances, Leorio would likely find it either annoying or even more arousing, but he can't seem to summon his normal thought process.
Kurapika collapses, head hanging beside Leorio's as he draws ragged breaths. One, two, and on the third he brings himself back up, somewhat steadier despite still looking utterly and thoroughly debauched. "Are you feeling okay, Leorio?"
Part of Leorio wants to laugh at the absurdity of that question; another part wants to hit Kurapika as hard as he can for pretending everything should still be all right. As though he hasn't just turned their entire arrangement upside down with a confession he hadn't intended to be understood.
Silence hangs between them for seconds that seem like hours; Kurapika's brow furrows, concern clouding his eyes. "Leorio?"
"Pika," Leorio says, more cautious with his words than he's ever been, "Why did you... why did you say you love me?"