Hello Morning
Smile
Riku's has a smile which is that of a weary warrior; stern and cold, and drowned in the all-consuming darkness that still lingers in the crevices of his heart, but curled ever-so slightly at the edges (as his eyes twinkle with a dying spark that Sora is sure could light up the entire world), and Sora knows that if he didn't know where to look, he would miss it completely.
Sometimes, as Riku's tiny grin sets off a heat within his stomach that brings the brightest of crimson to settle under the flesh of his cheeks, Sora can hear a whisper in his heart that sings a broken melody of a loss that he can't quite comprehend.
"His smile is just like Terra's."
It mutters quietly, but he doesn't understand what these words mean and so he tries, desperately, to squash the little voice and the realization that even the thought of Riku and his soldier's smile ignites a fire in his stomach that is entirely unnatural and definitely not the type of affection that he should be feeling for his very best friend.
Ice Cream
When Sora eats ice cream, Riku's internal battle is evident only from the persistent way he bites his bottom lip.
The brunette's supple pink tongue darts out as if to say hello, lapping up the creamy excess that clings to his lips and chin, melting in the overbearing island heat as he makes tiny pleasured hums of approval.
"This is delicious!"
He breathes, voice soft like velvet in the balmy breeze.
Riku struggles to cover the protruding bulge that springs fourth in his pants, flushing madly under the curtain of silvery bangs that shields his embarrassed, aquamarine eyes. Sora flashes a Cheshire grin, teeth clenching about the now-bare ice cream stick and Riku has to force himself to look away.
"It doesn't get much better than this, does it?"
Sora draws out happily, flicking his elusive tongue about the stick in his mouth, completely oblivious of Riku's unwavering gaze. The silverette trails his eyes across the expanse of his younger friend's generously-sized lips, swallowing thickly before suddenly losing his nerve and averting them as quickly as possible.
"Yeah,"
He chokes, digging his nails into the bark of the unfortunate paopu fruit tree behind him, if only to stop his hands from trembling.
"Sure doesn't."
Questions
Donald first realizes that something is amiss when he catches Sora fingering his lips, mad flush coloring his sun kissed cheeks. At first, he disregards it, supposing that, as a young human teenager, it's completely normal for the boy to fantasize about kissing Kairi. She was his first love, after all.
It's only when Goofy mentions one morning, blissfully unaware of what his words imply, that the night before he heard Sora calling Riku's name in his sleep, writhing under the sheets as a heated, rose-colored flush settled upon his cheeks ("I sure hope he doesn't have a fever!" The knight adds worriedly. "He seemed awfully overheated!"), that the mage is forced to contemplate just what their teenaged friend is keeping from them.
When the pair finally do get around to successfully cornering the keyblade wielder (in the crippling chill of Christmas town, as Jack argues in Santa's house with the stubborn old man about "the true meaning of Christmas") and Sora admits that he's been thinking about his best friend for some time now in apparently less than innocent ways, Donald realizes that some questions are better left unasked.
Heart
He's not a well-known humanitarian, but there are a few instances in which Riku's heart clenches for his fellow man. It may be worth mentioning that most, if not all, of these moments, when his pulse seems to ache in his veins and he can actually feel the sprouting of tears behind his eyelids, are usually caused by Sora, but he decides that this is only because his best friend is such a likable person. Anyone in their right mind would be moved by the boy's golden heart, and in turn, would be upset when witnessing him cry, or fail, or stumble (even if, unlike himself, who was too weak to triumph over the tantalizing darkness, Sora never actually falls).
So as he watches the keyblade wielder from under the shadowed hood of his cloak, towering over him in his warped, Ansem-clone of a body, blocking his flurry of strikes as Sora attacks him among a sea of yellow thrusters on the snowy mountain's edge, he can't help but shutter at the painful thumping of his heart.
"R-Riku?"
Sora stutters, teeth chattering in the cold as he steps forward, hand outstretched warily as if Riku is but a rabid dog.
His cerulean eyes are a rainbow of emotion, wide and glassy as his frost-chapped lips struggle to form a coherent sentence.
Riku turns swiftly, disappearing into the darkness as Sora's eyes are now bathed in a bitter understanding, and he wonders fleetingly, just how quickly the chilly air will turn his budding tears to ice.
Leaving
They're always skirting around the main issue: that Sora loves Riku and Riku just might love Sora too.
Sora may not have realized It until the moment he receives Mickey's letter (regardless of how long Riku may or may not have been pining desperately over him), but when he finally feels it, he knows that he's going to have trouble leaving his best friend turned love interest behind.
"A lot of people are still unhappy."
He reasons, and wonders, as Riku nods in unfortunate understanding, just who he's trying to convince.
"I'll be back soon."
He wants to say, grasping at Riku's strong, experienced hands and reassuring him in the tender way he wishes that he had the nerve to –with lips and soft touches that promise an unwavering love and devotion that will follow him wherever his travels may lead- but the words are caught in his throat as Kairi places her good luck charm in his open palm.
He stares past her sadly smiling face at his silently seething friend who, mysteriously enough, won't meet his eyes.
"Please don't forget me."
He pleads mentally.
Riku's fists clench, and Sora forces a brave smile.
Mirror
Roxas's lips feel exactly the same as Riku has always imagined Sora's would, had he ever gained the courage to kiss him when he had the chance.
His hands are just as clumsy and calloused as those of the currently-slumbering keyblade wielder, and his eyes, so clear and blue, like the ocean currents in which Riku used to play, are perfect mirrors of Sora's.
It's only when he drags his lips from Roxas's and actually allows himself a closer look at the blonde nobody; hair askew, face void of Sora's overwhelming drive and endless emotion, that he realizes that, really, Roxas can't compare.
Fin.
These have been sitting around in my writer's notebook for about a week and a half now, so I forced myself to get them down... Finally!
As much as I love Birth By Sleep, Sora is still the very best character ever. I did feel pretty horrible about writing Roxas as the nobody who "can't compare" to his somebody though. Without Roxas, there would be no AkuRoku, and without that, this fandom would be so empty!
That aside, Halloween is Sunday! I carved an Oogie Boogie pumpkin that I'm actually rather proud of. I might get around to posting the pictures on livejournal, but who knows.
Anywho, thank you so much for reading and please review and let me know what you think!