LINKDING

“We can just sit on chairs all night or something. Or maybe,” Leorio starts, and then loses confidence, and continues, “there’s gotta be some material behind that. We can just figure it out. Whatever you want,” he finishes, a little breathlessly. If Kurapika is really into chairs, Leorio can detail chairs all night. He can talk about rungs, and cushions, and balustrades. No, that’s stairs. Well, he can do some googling.
—
Leorio receives a voice message, refurnishes his apartment, and goes on a journey of self-discovery.

Watching the video becomes Kurapika’s bedtime routine. He grows familiar with it, memorizing timestamps the way you might memorize a neighbor’s face. At 1:03, Leorio takes his dick out. At 3:01, he plays with his nipples. At 4:04, Leorio jostles the camera, revealing his mouth for six seconds before he notices and adjusts the angle.

Kurapika watches those six seconds like he’s studying scripture. Replays them so often it becomes a meditation. Watches for the quirk of a smile when Leorio moves to adjust the camera angle, not embarrassed exactly, but a little shy.

“You know one day I’m going to leave, right?” Kurapika says one morning, while he’s washing the dishes. Leorio’s trying to get the toaster to work, because while he’s not cheap he is frugal, and they probably should've gotten a new one by now but they haven’t.

“Okay,” Leorio says, not looking up.

“In that case, I’d like to see you do some mental sparring tomorrow afternoon. Meet Melody and me at 1300 hours in the simulation room.”

“The simulation -” Leorio and Kurapika squawked at once.

“The simulation room,” Bisky confirmed. She studied them both again and then nodded, as if agreeing with herself. “Let’s see if we can’t get you two in a jaeger after all.”

“Melody, good evening,” he greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Good evening!” Melody replied cheerfully. “I received a very interesting call today, and I wanted to get your opinion on it.”

“Oh?” Kurapika asked. He reached for his wine and sipped. “Is this a work call, or a bitch session?” He would not put the wine down for anything short of a house fire, though, and he sipped his drink again as if to prove his point to some sort of invisible audience.

Melody laughed. “That depends on how this conversation goes. But before we go any further: what do you think of weddings?”

Leorio jogs up the steps to the porch of the lodge and stops before the bright green screen door. He throws his shoulders back and takes a big breath in and out, preparing to look upon his new domain. Then he flings the door open and struts inside.

The first thing he spots is the kitchen: sturdily functional, smudged with use, crammed between the paneled walls. That’s fine. It’ll be a decent work space. It’s nothing to the second, more important, thing Leorio notices, which is that there’s someone in his kitchen.