moonshine before sunshine. killua&jason

This guy reeked of the arrogance of a career. It didn't take long for Killua to analyze Jason Navarre - a cocky bastard who's glory days had come and gone without making anything of himself. Instead, he spent his days reliving his dreams through his son and the kids he trains at the academy, watching as they sprouted into what he couldn't accomplish himself. And at the end of the day, he drowned his sorrows and insecurities about his inadequacies with a bourbon on the rocks. He was the perfect example of why he typically had a distaste towards careers - he got off on violence and intimidation.

It didn't stop Killua from wanting to shit himself as he rushed to take off his boat shoes, his bare feet scampering over the hardwood floors as he took a seat in the living room. His eyes skimmed the pictures lining the walls, the picturesque idea of a happy family in the form of the Navarre family staring back at him. The pictures almost fooled him into believing the facade they put on - but Killua's intuition knew better. The smell of alcohol was enough to indicate the broken home that lay within the walls.

"We've met before," he stated, trying to avoid the scowl that resulted of the disdain he felt around Adrian's father. Suddenly, Killua was thankful for his own absentee father. He never had to worry about Dr. Kravitz attempting awkward small talk with his friends (or lack thereof) because he didn't care enough about them, or Killua, for that matter.

"I remember," he stammered, trying to find the words that would piss Jason off the least, "the last time I was over. I stayed for dinner. Your wi- Adrian's mom, I guess, cooked lemon and dill salmon."

Suddenly, his senses erupted with the smell of dill and the sound of warm laughter that filled the air as the family ate dinner together. It was a feeling of camaraderie Killua never felt with his own family. The tender feeling of togetherness sent a chill down his spine, then it disappeared almost as quickly as it came to him. The home returned to its familiar cold, emptiness filling the atmosphere as the two men faced each other.

"But that was forever ago," he added, awkwardly coughing into his hand. God Adrian, SOS.

Killua's attempt at hiding his dismay with Jason quickly faded, his neutral expression crumbling into furrowed eyebrows and his signature scowl which often kept others from interacting with him. An odd feeling of protectiveness overcame him as he leaned forward and crossed his knuckles. He suddenly felt less intimidated by Jason's presence and more annoyed. He no longer wondered why him and Adrian spent most of their time together unbothered at Killua's house, where his parents minded their own business and left the two to their devices.

"To be fair, I don't think you're the picturesque idea of a father, either," he shot back at him. In that moment, Killua decided that he wasn't giving this man the pleasure of intimidating him. Breaking down Jason Navarre was simple: he was simply a musclehead who was never taught to deal with his emotions properly, so he dealt with grief by scaring those he deemed lesser than him and downing liquor until his words slurred and his vision was scattered. "But hey, maybe my father can take some notes from you. Interrogating your son's friends while off their pisser does seem kind of fun, I guess," he finished snidely, paired with a smirk as lounged back into the chaise, eyeing Jason for his reaction.

Killua pondered for a second before adding. "Is it really that hard to believe that someone wants to spend time with your son?" He ignored the statement about being his boyfriend. This fucker didn't get the luxury of knowing the extent of their friendship, let alone his love life.

That fucker has a lot of nerve bringing up daddy issues around Killua.

Jason Navarre was right. Dr. Kravitz was a shitty man, a shitty husband, and an even shittier father. He neglected to give the attention Killua desperately needed for proper childhood development, and thus here he was. A stupid ass teenager with substance addiction at seventeen and a desperate need to know everything about everyone.

But Killua was self-aware of his own faults. He really didn't care about his relationship, or lack thereof, with his father. It was amusing to him that Jason thought he was hitting a nerve by bringing up his own daddy issues rather than admitting his own failures as a father.

"I really don't see how that's any of your business," he shot back, his smug expression turning back into his signature sneer. The smell of alcohol reeked off of Jason as he spoke, almost making Killua sick to his stomach. He was suddenly reminded why he stayed away from alcohol.

Despite the anger and annoyance rising through him as Jason continued, Killua remained level. God, he wished he could smoke a bowl right now and just relax. He began thinking that maybe coming here was a mistake, maybe it was better off just leaving Adrian to himself and hoping he would eventually come to his senses. Maybe he'd forget that Killua ever brought up his mom in the first place and they could go back to normal.

Then he came to the realization. The doctor's appointment. Symptoms. Heart condition. Death. Adrian had the same heart condition that took his mom.

"You can blame Adrian all you want for his mom's death," he said, the words coming out with a sharpness that could slice the tension between them, "Doesn't change the fact that she's dead."

Killua knew it probably wasn't the greatest idea to bring up a dead wife around an angry, drunk, former career, but he didn't care. He wanted the words to sting. He wanted to hurt Jason the only way he knew how: with his words.

"Blame him all you want," he repeated, "it's never going to bring her back."