Sometimes, Riku thought the best part about waking up wasn't the fact that Sora was often entangled with him in a jumble of arms and legs, nor the fact that he occasionally woke up to feel Sora dropping light kisses on his forehead, cheeks, mouth, occasionally dipping down to the collarbone.
No, the best part of waking up was when Riku came to on his own, eyes drifting open gradually to see Sora's face at the right distance away, not too far to lean in for a kiss, but not too close that he couldn't see his whole face.
And Sora would be giving him that look, an adorable sleepy-fond expression, eyes relaxed, smiling, like he was so fucking happy that Riku was part of his life. The kind of look that filled Riku with something lighter-than-air and tingled.
The moment never lasted long; it was always broken with a witty comment or a ruffle to the head before reluctantly climbing out from under the sheets. But Riku made sure to hold Sora close and warm, maybe slip an extra Elixir into Sora's pocket (Xehanort was a dangerous man after all), before they went their separate ways for the day.