*killua snorts as gon drops his dominant facade, kindly freeing him in case he wants to take his pants off.*

gon. that’s what zippers are for.

*leaning back on the rail with gon’s hands to balance him, he reaches down and unzips the tight, high-waisted shorts, shoving them lower down his hips and freeing the boxer-bulge underneath. he can’t resist cupping a hand over it to fondle himself, gon’s smaller package fitting comfortably in his palm through the fabric. it’s so weird, feeling the intimate touch from inside as well as out.*

is this why your shorts are so tight? *he teases, feeling himself hardening as he continues to palm at the bulge.* to keep all this tucked away?