*killua gulps. it's becoming increasingly clear that his feelings are reciprocated, the guilt he'd been harboring over his own act of passion dissipating when kalluto goes on to reveal that he'd done exactly the same thing, touched himself to illicit fantasies of his brother. as the reality of this sinks in, killua's complexion darkens, blood pooling under his skin with nowhere else for it to pump.*

there's... there's nothing wrong with that.

*he clears his throat again, trying to force certainty to his statement even when he'd just been beating himself up for its wrongness moments before. his new perspective on it makes a big difference -- if it's reciprocal... what's the harm? he slides his hand up into kalluto's hair, nails scraping gently over the buzzed curve of his scalp.*

i don't mind.