Chapter Text
It was currently 12:03. Killua only knew that because the guy he was talking to had a massive Apple Watch, displaying the time.
The neon lights made it seem as bright as day, though. Electro pop music blasted from the speakers, some pink-haired DJ on their second set waving her hands in the air. Men's and women’s sweaty bodies moving to the music like primal animals. More people at the bar are ordering fruity drinks packed with enough alcohol to clean a wound. Couples arguing outside, the bouncer barely breaking up a fight between two massive men. Girls carrying their pink platform shoes out, laughing and giggling, covered in glitter.
So it was basically it was a normal Saturday night in Angeles Los.
Killua was here alone. Not for an assassin’s mission or anything, but because of free drinks.
Killua learned if he leaned against the bar for long enough in the right outfit, some guy would eventually offer to buy him a drink, thinking that maybe they were gonna get some, but Killua was never that easy.
They would ask him about his life and what he did for a living, and he would lie the whole time.
Right now, Killua was talking to “Massive Apple Watch Guy” (he forgot his name), who had on the most appalling outfit Killua had ever seen, biker shorts and a neon tank top, to the club?
“Yeah, I’m a professional trombone player!”
Massive Apple Watch guy grimaced slightly, barely hiding his confusion.
“Oh, so are you in a band?”
Killua could barely hold in his laughter.
“Yeah, it's like a group of trombone players, we’re called The Boners.”
Massive Apple Watch guy nearly choked on his vodka soda.
“Oh, that's…nice”
Massive Apple Watch Guy took this as his hint to wrap up the convo and get to the part about hooking up.
“So I was wondering if you would wanna come back to my place… maybe show me what you can do with that trombone?”
That was a pathetic attempt at being seductive.
Killua wasn’t going home with this guy. A guy who wears a massive Apple Watch and biker shorts to the club? No way.
“I’d love to… but we have early trombone practice tomorrow”
Apple Watch Guy had clearly never been so clearly rejected before.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, we’re running 3 miles.”
“What does that have to do with trombone playing?”
Killua actually had to think about a response for that one.
“It's a team bonding exercise.”
Apple Watch Guy clearly doesn’t know when to quit.
“Maybe ditch the team exercise and come to my place and exercise, I know an exercise with plenty of cardio.” Apple watch guy wraps his arm around Killua’s waist.
Ugh, Killua hates it when they get pushy
“No, dude.” Apple Watch Guy’s grip around Killua’s waist tightens.
“Cmon, I didn’t buy you your fucking cosmopolitan for nothing.” Apple Watch Guy’s other hand cupped Killua’s face.
Ok, now Killua was done being patient.
“No amount of alcohol could make me wanna hook up with a guy who wears Lululemon in the club!” Killua easily slipped out of Apple Watch Guy’s grasp.
Yep, over 10 years of training to be an assassin really pays off in sticky situations.
“You fucking bitch!”
Apple Watch Guy swings his moderately buff arms at Killua. Killua dodges it easily with one swift duck.
He was amused.
Killua had planned to yoko-geri kick him and head outside, when suddenly a man with a not-so-moderate physique pulled Apple Watch Guy back by the strap of his ugly-ass tank top.
“What… the… fuck!” Apple Watch guy gasped, out of breath. When he turned his head to see his grabber, his whole face dropped. Clearly, it wasn’t someone who was meant to be messed with.
Killua’s view was blocked by Apple Watch Guy.
Whoever it was clearly had some sort of nen radiating off of them, it was a familiar feeling, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up.
“Get off of him. Now,” The Stranger’s voice was commanding.
Apple Watch Guy withered in fear. Basically trembling.
“Yeah… sorry, dude.”
“Okay, now scram.” The stranger let go of Apple Watch Guy, who immediately bolted for the exit.
Killua was now annoyed.
Who was this guy, and why did he think he needed saving? He was gonna handle Apple Watch Guy himself. He doesn’t need some massive dude to draw all this attention and make him look like some sort of victim. Killua doesn’t need anyone’s sympathy.
“Bro, I could’ve handl-” Killua could finally see the stranger under the bright neon lights. He was… hot. That was undeniable.
He was also Gon.