A/N: Hello. This is my second story up, but my only Riku x Sora one - my second favorite pairing, actually, haha. If anyone has any alternatives for Riku's last name, please share. I'm not very imaginative and I'm sure most of your can tell where I got his current surname from -D:- Also, please excuse any faulty information pertaining to the school system or license-getting... system.

Enjoy!

Summary: Sora had only been trying to parallel park when he crashed into the car. He hadn't thought that the car belonged to the young, suave Riku Gallagher - or that Mr. Gallagher would be his new English teacher.

Warning: Swearing, bad driving, plot holes, pot holes, slash...

Learner's Permit
Chapter 1

"How the fuck," Roxas hollered from the seat next to him, "did you pass your Learner's permit!"

"I don't know!" Sora yelled back, veering suddenly to the left with a frantic wave of his arms. The pair jolted into the air as the left wheels struck a gutter, the abrupt motion eliciting twin shrieks from the two passengers. Their small, dilapidated sedan tore down the avenue while its worn tires screeched in protest. The road ran parallel to the sea and would have presented a pleasant view of the blossoming sunset – had Roxas not been fearing for his life.

The blonde's knuckles were white, tightly clenching onto the handle strap that was connected to the car's roof. He was barking incoherent instructions to his twin, his own eyes clenched shut. Next to him and, unfortunately, in the driver's seat, was Sora. His blue eyes were wide and strained with concentration and his complexion was pale. His clammy hands were clutching the steering wheel with such force it was as if he was trying to fuse them together. Frequently, Sora's hands would make abrupt and unnecessary swerves which usually evoked a colorful string of vocabulary from Roxas.

Any ride with Sora was a death race; the brunette felt as if any and every obstacle, whether it be a light pole or an innocent pedestrian on a fucking sidewalk, deserved a 5 meter berth – the result were many incessant jolts that prevented Roxas from ever feeling safe in a car with Sora at the wheel.

"Sora, you have to calm do- don't hit the gutter! – you have to cal- ohmygoddon'tfuckinghitthatcar – for fuck's sake, just DRIVE STRAIGHT!" Roxas screeched loudly and with such ferocity it felt as if he was going suddenly bare fangs and gnaw his brother to death. Why was the brunette simply incapable of staying within the white, dotted lines of the street lanes? Why had the brunette passed his Leaner's permit without one scratch on his record? And why the hell had Roxas agreed to let him drive?

Roxas' brunette twin was possibly the worst and most dangerous driver, yet had evaded police pull-overs, death, injury (apart from the mental trauma which was commonplace for any passenger of Sora's) – basically anything to imply that he was not capable behind the wheel. And yet here he was, frantic and steadily getting closer to obtaining a complete license. Roxas feared the day Sora would be allowed to freely roam the streets in any vehicle, and only hoped they would die before that happened - or that his brother would learn how to drive safely before then.

Sora's teeth were chattering loudly. "I don't know how to, Roxas!" he cried. Roxas almost felt pity for the helpless, scared look on his brother's face – but then Sora narrowly dodged a mailbox, and the exasperation was back.

"Sora, park," he tried to instruct calmly, trying to quell his raging fear. Maybe Sora would calm down if he did. When Sora continued to drive, not even daring to attempt parking, Roxas felt a vein pop in his temple.

"Park!" he roared, leaning towards his brother's ear.

"I don't know how to!"

"Easy on the brakes ," the car lurched, "- when we find a parking spot." Roxas' pupils darted from side to side, trying to locate a vacant space. "Over there!" he cried suddenly. Surprised, Sora made a convulsive swerve on the wheel. Roxas' hand was pointing frantically to a space behind a sleek, dark gray convertible. The car alone made a warning sign flash across Sora's eyesight. He would surely damage it.

"I can't," he replied, voice firm. Roxas looked exasperated.

"C'mon Sora! You've done parallel parking before!"

"Yeah, I know," he cried back, "but look at that car! Does it not scream 'I'm fucking expensive, don't hit me'?"

"If you calmed down, you wouldn't damage it." Roxas huffed. "Look Sora, it's either that car or us, and I don't give a shit if that car gets fucking pulverized, I just want you to PARK!"

"Fine!" With a sudden burst of impulse, Sora twisted his arms sharply to the side. Neither of them were surprised when the sound of crunching metal greeted them. A few cars honked angrily at them from the road, but they didn't care. The car had stopped driving, the world was finally peaceful, and they were still alive. The twins slumped back against the scratched, leather car seats and breathed deeply, savoring life.

"Shit," Roxas breathed after a moment. "The car."

Sora paled and jolted forward, fear once again clouding his expression. "Crap," he moaned loudly to himself, dropping his head into his hands. "What about the shopping?" he added.

Roxas frowned. "We have to get out of here!" he said, shaking his head, "We can just go to another grocery store."

Sora frowned deeply, despite the situation. "No, we should at least leave a message," he said, then proceeded to recite mockingly, "'Sorry we damaged your luxury sports car that we can't afford the repair for'."

Roxas grimaced. "C'mon, Sora, like you said, we can't afford it. At least if we leave now he won't ever know who we are. And what if it belongs to… like a mobster, or something?"

Sora snorted. Roxas rounded on him. "What?" the blonde snarled.

"There are no mobsters on Destiny Islands," Sora rolled his eyes and knit his hands behind his head. "Besides, we have to be good, law abiding citizens."

Roxas snorted at that. "Yeah, if you wanted to do that then you'd stop trying to make human road kill."

Sora glared at him, though unable to refute. "Whatever," he muttered under his breath. He then fumbled in his pockets for paper and a pen.

"What do I write?" he asked.

"'Sorry I'm such a shit driver' – that, and your name and details."

"Gee, Roxas," Sora remarked sarcastically, "you're just too helpful."

"Whatever, it's your fault anyway," he began. Sora's eyes flashed viciously, but the blonde continued, "I wanted to escape the crime scene; you want to be a good samaritan – not my problem."

Sora's lip curled. "Fine," he replied curtly, then began to scribble onto a piece of torn paper with quick strokes. When he had finished, he opened the door and slammed it behind him, stalking over to the window of the gray convertible. Once Sora had secured the note behind one of the windshields, he ran back to the car and dropped into the driver's seat, jamming the car key into the ignition. Before he could twist it, though, Roxas' hand shot out and firmly grasped his wrist.

"Uh uh," Roxas said. "I'm driving."

Riku had thought he'd had a perfect, peaceful day ahead of him.

He'd thought he'd wake up in the morning and savor it by lazing around, which he had. He'd thought he'd talk his landlord, the sly, yet seemingly perpetually drunk blonde called Luxord, into letting him borrow his car while his own was in for service, which he had. He'd thought he'd take a leisurely drive to the local grocery store to replenish his fridge and pantry's stock, which he had. He had not thought, however, that sometime during the quick, fifteen minute stop, would his expensive, borrowed car be crashed into by some idiot driver, but it had. And he had certainly not expected to return to the car, arms full of grocery bags, only to see the huge, obvious dent that now decorated the gray bumper, but he had.

Riku didn't really remember what had happened in the few moments after he'd seen the car's new look, but suddenly his arms were slack and hanging by his sides – the grocery bags, from which a few red apples, some bread and a milk carton protruded, laid dejectedly on the pavement before him. The few thoughts his mind seemed to be able to comprehend replayed in frantic loops.

Shit. A dent. Luxord's going to kick my ass.

Soon, the breadth of his worry spread, and his hands began to shake.

I can't pay for that. It will have to be taken into service. My car's still in service. How the hell am I going to get to work. Shit. Going to be late on the first day. I'm going to get fired.

Riku felt faint. He staggered back until he was pressed back against the glass of the shop he'd just exited. Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshit shit. Anger welled up inside him. Who the fuck hit his car? It wasn't even his fault, yet Luxord would murder him because of it. He probably couldn't even afford to repay for the damage without having to sell his own car. Riku was gripped by a sudden urge to kick the vehicle, not even caring about worsening its condition, but something white on the windshield caught his attention.

He stepped over his groceries, having quickly forgotten about them, and leaned towards the dashboard; a white piece of paper with words messily scribbled onto it fluttered lazily in a passing breeze. Riku brought a tentative hand forward, then snatched the note from the noose and brought it closely towards him. His aquamarine eyes scanned the writing, trying to decipher the person's messy penmanship.

'Hi…', it read. Riku rolled his eyes – he could practically hear the person's awkward tone. 'My name's Sora Hikari. I am so, so sorry about your car. I'm still a learner driver, obviously, and was trying to parallel park but it didn't work too well – pretty much failed in general. Again, I'm so sorry about your car, sorry sorry sorry, but if you should know I had'– here, a few words were scribbled out, but Riku could barely make out what looked like 'an accomplice' – 'another passenger, and he was screaming at me to park and it was just like suddenly I was parking behind your car and suddenly there was a dent and yeah. Please don't hesitate to call, this was my fault and I apologize. Again, sorry.

Riku closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself, then turned the note over. On the back, in a quick, messy scrawl, was a name, a phone number, and an e-mail address.

He was silent for a few moments, rereading the details with diminishing interest. He raked a hand tiredly through his long, silver hair and then sighed. Whatever. At least he had the culprit's details and had at least some leverage for his argument. Hopefully, Luxord wouldn't mind lending him the car again tomorrow, so he could arrive to work on time. Maybe he could by some hard-liquor as a bribe. And if that still failed, then he could just take the bus.

Riku exhaled slowly. His eyes passed back over his groceries and he decided against picking them up. Most of it was probably ruined, anyway. Plus, if some homeless person was fortunate enough to stumble across it, well, then they could help themselves. Riku carded a hand through his hair once again, then opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat.

He turned the key in the ignition and carefully peeled out onto the road, intent on not adding to the damage. One hand loosely clutched the bottom of the steering wheel, and his other arm rested on the dashboard. He drove back to his apartment in silence, the glow of the fading sunset illuminating the way.

Sora slumped into his seat in English – three rows from the front, with the window next to him on his left. Roxas slid quietly into the chair behind the desk next to his.

"Did the person call?" the blonde asked, before he yawned widely. Sora shook his head sleepily.

"Nah, nothing. Maybe they're rich enough to afford the repair without any hassle, so they just disregarded our offer," he speculated hopefully. Roxas rolled his eyes.

"Wishful thinking," he said, "but it's more likely they just haven't gotten around to it."

Silently, Sora agreed with Roxas. There was this nagging part at the back of his mind which was awaiting the anonymous person's call – every time he received one on his mobile, he would automatically assume that it was the person ready to lecture him angrily, but it never was.

"What about e-mail?"

Sora shook his head again, sighing. He had checked his inbox that morning, and it had been saddeningly empty.

"Well, they'll call eventually," Roxas reassured with a sweet smile. Sora just poked his tongue out at his twin. Roxas snorted. "Ooh," he said mockingly, "calm down."

The brunette sighed. "English is so boring. I have no friends in this class," - Roxas gave him a withering glare - "apart from you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Everyone seemed to have arrived by now – the classroom was teeming with small clusters of friends, talking in either secretively hushed or obnoxiously loud voices.

"I wonder whose car that was though," Roxas said thoughtfully. "Looked expensive."

"Yeah, nah shit," Sora groaned. "It was a fucking convertible. I bet it had, like, a built in GPS or something."

"I bet the paint job on that thing cost more than our whole car."

"Hmm, yeah, so what have you got next?" Sora said pointedly. Reminding himself of the incident just injured his mood.

Roxas smirked. "Chem – nice subject diversion, by the way. Almost didn't notice it."

"Fuck you," Sora sighed.

"No thanks."

Sora opened his mouth to retort, but the teacher, whom he hadn't notice enter the room, spoke before he could. The brunette turned back towards the front, angling his attention at their short, squat man of a teacher.

"Today," he said, "I'm going to introduce you to your substitute teacher for English." Sora's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. The teacher continued, "Riku Gallagher will be replacing me until the end of the year – up until your graduation."

A few people, including Roxas, cheered at that. Sora smiled widely at the mention. They were three months away from graduation, and though preparation for testing had begun and the workloads they received from classes had increased, it was as if they'd begun their final ascent to the light at the end of a tunnel.

"Yes, yes," the teacher said, waving a hand dismissively, "I know you're excited, but that doesn't mean you're allowed to slack off. In fact, you should be putting even more effort-" there was a collective groan from the whole class at this familiar lecture. They'd had it relayed to them by every teacher they had, at least twice.

The teacher frowned. "Fine, you've heard that speech all before, okay. So, Mr. Gallagher is actually one of the youngest of the staff," – many heads turned at this, particularly the girls' – "maybe even the youngest. He graduated early from high school," – an image of some book-carrying, glasses-wearing, bowl-haircut scholar formed in Sora's mind. He smiled to himself – "and is currently studying for his teaching permit. I ask you to treat him with utmost respect – this is as much a learning experience for you as it is for him."

A hand raised into the air. "Yes, Yuna?"

The brunette twirled a lock of hair around her index finger, and narrowed her mismatched eyes. "Why are we having a substitute so close to graduation? You already said that this is the most important time, so why are we being taught by someone who's not fully qualified?"

The teacher raised his eyebrows. "A fair question," he said. "Apprently, Mr. Gallagher is qualified. Though it might not be written on paper, he fulfills all the qualifications of a teacher – that is what Principal Xemnas has told us, at least. I assure you this was not a flippant choice, especially since it is an important time of the year. With that being said, treat Mr. Gallagher as you would any other teacher." He turned towards the classroom door, where the silhouette of someone was visible through the glass window, "Mr. Gallagher," he called, "it's your cue."

The door slid open, and a young-looking man, maybe around 19, entered the classroom. He was tall and stood straight, no hint of a slouch - but it wasn't his youth or the way he carried himself which made the majority of the class inhale in surprise. It was his attractiveness.

His fair skin had a healthy, rosy blush and was unmarked by any visible freckles or scars. He had a long, straight nose and narrow, heavy lidded green eyes. His hair was long, yet looked groomed and styled, an iridescent shade of silver. He was smiling slightly, his cupid's bow defined and his bottom lip full. He raised a hand to casually tighten his tie – he wasn't lanky; his arms were toned and perfectly muscular.

Sora raised an eyebrow. Okay, not what he'd been expecting. His gaze travelled from each girl, all of whom seemed to share the same simpering, love-struck expression. Sora rolled his eyes and rested his chin in his palm, looking outside.

The teacher continued to drone in the background, his voice reduced to an indistinct muffling. Sora focused on the blue sky and the soft gradient of the hue. Only three more months… and then he'd be done. Gone from this place. No longer a high school student.

When he returned his attention to the classroom, his teacher had already gone and Riku was leaning against the front of the teacher's desk, marking the roll. He called names and those people answered obediently.

"Roxas Hikari?" Mr. Gallagher called.

"Yeah," Roxas replied from next to Sora, tapping absent-mindedly on the wooden desk top. Sora stared at the silver-haired man, waiting for his name to be called.

Mr. Gallagher paused noticeably before he read it. "…Sora Hikari?" he asked slowly, after a moment. The teacher raised his head, waiting for him to answer.

"Here," Sora murmured, lifting a hand lackadaisically. Mr. Gallagher's gaze snapped onto his instantly, his green eyes were narrowed in peculiar scrutiny. Was it just him, or did Mr. Gallagher's gaze linger for slightly too long? Sora stared back defiantly. The silver-haired teacher slowly dropped his gaze back to the clipboard, and then continued marking the students off.

Sora quirked an eyebrow. He looked to his brother. Roxas' own cobalt eyes were peering at him questioningly. Sora just shrugged. So he hadn't been the only one to notice.

The rest of the lesson was, in Sora's opinion, a waste. The class was basically filling the new substitute on what they had covered and what the assessment was supposed to be like. Among those questions were ones asking Mr. Gallagher about himself. He'd answer vaguely, often attempting to deflect them – much to the disappointment of the class' female population.

Sora had the scene through the window burned into his retinas by the end of the lesson. Mr. Gallagher was behind the teacher's desk, placing files into his bag. The class was talking amongst themselves and most had already stood from their chairs. Sora slowly got to his feet. He was shouldering his bag when Mr. Gallagher addressed him.

"Oh, and Sora," the silver-haired teacher called from the front desk. All conversation seemed to halt and attention was focused on the brunette. Sora paused. Oh shit. Had he noticed he hadn't been paying any attention at all that lesson? "Please stay after class, I need to talk to you."

Oh, shit. Sora frowned and then slumped back into his chair. Roxas aimed a kick at his shin.

"What's that about?" Roxas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I honestly don't know," Sora sighed. "I think he might have noticed all I did this lesson was stare outside."

Roxas shrugged. "Not like this lesson was that important. D'you want me to wait for you?"

"Nah, just go to lunch, I'll get there soon."

The bell rang at the end of his sentenced. Roxas waved briefly before exiting the classroom with everyone else. A few girls lingered behind, but Mr. Gallagher seemed, or pretended, not to notice them, and they left, sharing disappointed expressions. Sora rested his elbow on the table top, bored.

"What did you want, sir?" he asked, voice monotone.

Mr. Gallagher sat down in the chair behind the teacher's desk and smiled pleasantly. Too pleasantly. It unnerved Sora.

The teacher gestured him over, and the brunette complied with obvious reluctantance. Was he one of those teachers who seemed nice on the outside, but was actually a sadistic bastard? A teacher who threatened? Blackmailed?

Sora regarded him with a weary expression as he neared the opposite side of the desk. Mr. Gallagher didn't seem to notice, and had instead returned to rummaging through his bag. It was silent in the classroom, save for the distant, ubiquitous, quiet chatter of the whole student body, and the sound of the teacher fumbling through the contents of his bag.

At last, he retrieved a white piece of paper.

"So…" he began, reading from it, "Sora Hikari, was it?" he asked with a smile, then stared directly into Sora's eyes and rested his chin on the knuckles of his overlapped hands. The brunette swallowed.

"Yes," he said, and nodded.

"I see…" Mr. Gallagher murmured slowly, once again referring to the paper. His tone seemed to be the same with Sora – pleasant, but with a weird, indiscernible undertone. Sora narrowed his eyes. So far, so good – no mention of his lack of attention during the class. But then… why was he here if not for that reason? Or was this just some weird prelude designed to make him feel uncomfortable? If so, it was working.

"Are you learning to drive, Sora?" Mr. Gallagher asked after a pause, though the strangeness of the question made it feel abrupt.

"What?" Sora blinked. Had he misheard?

"I said," the teacher repeated patiently and slowly, "are you learning to drive?"

Wordlessly, Sora nodded.

"Interesting…" Mr. Gallagher said, glancing at the paper. Sora's suspicion grew. What was he reading off? Some secret file?

"What's on that piece of paper?" Sora asked suddenly and lifted a hand, but the note was tugged from his reach. Mr. Gallagher wore a teasing smile.

"None of your business," he said with the air of a preschool teacher. Sora frowned. "Anyway," the teacher continued, "what's your e-mail address?"

Sora's brow furrowed. "What?"

Mr. Gallagher blinked, the repeated bemusedly, "I said, what's yo-"

"No, I know what you said," Sora interrupted hotly, "but I just- why do you need to know?"

The teacher shrugged. "I don't, but could you tell me anyway?"

Sora's eyes narrowed. Mr. Gallagher snorted and waved him off.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're looking at me as if I'm a stalker or something."

The brunette was indignant. "I don't want to disclose that information," Sora replied stiffly.

"Fine, okay," Mr. Gallagher said, but then, without missing a beat, added, "What about your mobile number?"

"Are… are you serious?"

The teacher nodded, his expression solemn and inquiring.

"Well… can I not tell you that either?"

Again, the teacher nodded. Sora's tone was exasperated when he said, "Look, let's assume I disagree to sharing any personal information about myself. This is kind of a waste of tim-"

Mr. Gallagher laughed. "I can assure you, it's not."

"Well, then could you get to the point?"

Mr. Gallagher paused thoughtfully, then smiled and nodded. "Okay. Sora, did you crash into a car yesterday sometime between five and five-thirty?"

Sora's eyes widened incredulously, and he blanched. He took a nervous step back.

"Wha… I-I…," he stammered.

"Did you?" Mr. Gallagher repeated patiently.

Sora nodded.

Suddenly, the teacher was staring at him closely with his striking aqua eyes. He lifted the note and handed it to Sora.

"Do you recognize that?" he asked finally, pointing to it. Sora looked down. In his palm was the messily scrawled apology note he'd written for the owner of the gray convertible.

Sora nodded, paralyzed. Oh, shit. No. Shit.

Mr. Gallagher entwined his fingers behind his head and leaned back. He was smirking.

"That's because that was my car you dented, Sora."

A/N: To be continued?