*killua watches his brother closely as he turns away, glimpsing flashes of those black underpants as the breeze ripples the edge of his shirt. now that he's no longer in immediate danger of being stripped, he relinquishes his grip on his vest, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.*

shorts, then, *he suggests gruffly, still uncomfortably flushed and frustrated by the sight of his brother's long, pale legs, strutting on display after he'd so recently fantasized about them wrapping around his waist.*