Sixteen Candles

Disclaimers: Kingdom Hearts and the rest of the amazing franchise © Disney and Square Enix; everything else © their rightful owners.

A/N: Keeping these chapters short and sweet. And unfortunately... -sheepish grin.- ...I got incredibly distracted last night by playing stupid games to solve boredom on the internet with my girlfriend and her sister.

Holy. Shit.

I have never laughed so hard in my life.

ATTENTION NOSTER NOSTRI READERS: Keep biding your time until those updates. They'll arrive, I promise.

Ratings/Warnings for this chapter: T—profanity

"Turning sixteen isn't easy when you realize that you've fallen in love. It's the time of your life that will last a lifetime."

Sixteen Candles—Chapter Three

The days in succession progressed with an ominous leer and awkward anxiety, because ever since Sora had freaked out about the dance in advent, Riku had been acting really strange.

Tuesday greeted all with the hysteria of a notoriously dragging day, and Sora spent the majority of it paranoid of someone approaching him in maniacal stitches regarding the sex quiz located somewhere in the city. Fleetingly, he considered teaming up with Kairi to play detectives and find out where the traitorous paper had disappeared to, but each time he chickened out and assured himself it was most likely in a gutter somewhere; thereafter he would fall into spastic fears that a homeless man might find it, and God knew what a hobo would do with a tenth grade virgin's sex quiz.

At lunch, he sat across from Riku as always, but the junior was in one of his bad moods, his aquamarine irises resembling the stormy wake of a typhoon, set in a brusque, permanent glare that flashed dangerously. Deciding that the best he could do was ignore it completely, Sora silently apologized with his eyes and then turned away from that opalescent, irascible visage for the rest of the day, instead striking up a conversation on blitzball with an eagerly avid Tidus, swapping sandwiches with him and sharing a carton of chocolate milk. The brunette had learned to give inaudible "I'm sorry"s because Riku would never speak a word of why he was tetchy; only thrice had Sora actually wrestled the words out of Riku and that had been quite the physical struggle. Despite that, he had a knack for knowing exactly what it was, so before long he had given up on trying to drag an explanation out; he'd assume the blame and all would eventually be fine again. Telepathy of corresponding souls, perhaps.

Kairi wasn't a real nuisance, either; she busied herself in her own uneasy schemes of winning a petty bet, thinking up ways to make it merely look as though a kiss happened on the night of the dance because she could not bring herself to manipulate the stupid brunette into a real one—she'd never forgive herself—thus keeping her own integrity and Sora's chastity, and both reputations might well flourish for all they knew. Oh, the jungle that high school was.

And regardless of Sora's latent attempts to irritate an explanation out of him by the path of total lack of attention, Riku remained in his own maelstrom of thoughts, rather petulant the rest of the day, and when the oldest of the trio departed for home directly after school, Kairi and Sora both suggested they trash any plans of hanging out and just head home. Both agreed this was the best route for the remainder of the afternoon, and waved to each other as they went their separate ways, the girl with the mahogany tresses and pink barettes trotting off towards the northern side of the city and the brunette with the uniform shirt unbuttoned a few inches, tie loose about his neck, strutting into the east.

Wednesday brought those weird feelings slamming upon him again, smothering him into self-conscious nervosity, when Riku's knee brushed his below the lunch table and he quickly looked to him, rather shocked and rather sheepish. But Riku was rapt in an argument with Wakka over the benefits of energy drinks versus the benefits of protein shakes. The movement had obviously been accidental if Riku didn't seem to notice, yet the brunette's theory was disproved while Kairi brought up the topic of shopping for outfits for the dance, and what was Sora thinking of wearing because they needed to match? His lips parted and he prepared to respond that he hadn't planned anything too dramatic, when a subtle knee inched its way between his lower thighs. Instead of emitting his voice, his jaw fell open and he flicked a startled, flustered glance to Riku's visage. The look of utter territorial defense glinting in his irises as he juggled conversations—one verbal with Wakka and the other inaudible and almost psychic thoughts shot across the table to the brunette's wide, azure optics—expertly caused shivers to strike Sora nearly paralytic.

So it was Riku's fault he felt this way! He sent him mixed signals like he always had for years, and that didn't help Sora's lovestruck condition in the least—or was that Riku's plan in the first place? Well, he was a perversely protective boy...

No, no, no, stop thinking these things! That's just how Riku is, that doesn't mean he wants to kiss you!...Kiss? KISS? When have I been thinking about KISSING RIKU—?

Sora gawked, lips parted and eyes dazed, at the talking lips upon Riku's face, pale, barely pink flesh and beautifully crafted, the words emitting not even heard in the fog of attraction. They looked so soft and warm; did they taste good, too? Hypnotized by his thoughts, the brunette slouched down, and craned a few inches over the tabletop, propping his elbows near his tray of untouched cafeteria food. His head slowly tilted to the side as he eased forward, lashes lowering on heated blue eyes, tongue dusting out along his own lip as if he could imagine the aftertaste of a kiss—

"—idiot?"

"Hunh?" Sora cried, freezing on his imagined journey, his optics bulging and cheeks flushing a hot, fierce pink. He was completely unaware of who had even spoken; it could have been anyone at the table. Great, stupid, look what you've gotten yourself into now—"W-what?"

"I said, do you want something, you stupid idiot?"

Of course it had been Riku speaking. Who else reserved "stupid idiot" for his pet name? Ah—nick name? Souring into a dark pout, Sora hastily leaned back and hung his head, glowering ferociously over the table at the silver-haired boy through layered sandy-brown shocks of hair that fell about his temple. Knuckles twitching anxiously as he clutched the bench he sat upon, he hunched slightly, eyeing the boy across him as his pout melted into a threatening frown. Laughter at him ensued from the buddies who surrounded them, but it dissipated faster than usual, leaving the conversation between the two close friends open to only them, shared between heavy stares rather than vocal sounds.

Riku peered at him through his lashes, cafeteria fork in hand and the prongs of such assaulting his salad, a petty attempt at health food by the school system. He stared at the brunette with hooded optics that told him just how intended that wedged knee had been, and the sly smile quirking at the edge of his amazing lips was telling him now just how vulnerable he was—and then Riku's outright warm smile exposed the fact that he knew everything, particularly the way into the other boy's heart. It was a stealthy confession, but somehow it was not as sultry as it was romantic.

Sora hung his head further, hiding his panicked eyes and burning cheeks, and finally he snatched up his bag and retreated from the lunch table, leaving his tray of food for his friend Tidus the Vulture to tear into even though his stomach growled in protest—though at the moment, he felt too sick on perplexed adrenaline, heart thundering, to finish eating, and he hurried down the hall to loiter in the bathrooms near his math class and prevent another tardy. The back of his neck was on fire until he turned the corner and was out of sigh of the mess hall, as if the stare obviously following him could actually heat his flesh.

Riku was playing games with him. Games. Games that were so normal that Sora hadn't even realized until now that they were fucking games. But if Riku was playing games, that meant he was aware of the way Sora felt...and if he was playing games because of the way Sora felt, did that mean Riku felt the same way?

God, how fucking confusing!

Saving the worlds was easier than going through high school—at least then he could distract his innocent heart from it's longing.

Frantically, the hormonal boy under Cupid's fateful charm splashed his face with water from the bathroom sink, hoping it would cool his furious blushing and clear his head just a bit.

Thursday afternoon, Kairi kidnapped her two best friends and forced them into the lone Destiny Islands formal-wear shop beneath an ancient palm tree, fronds fluttering in welcome; the dance influenced a big rise in sales and the old man who ran the little business was weary but entirely delighted when the chimes on the door announced their entrance. Sitting behind an aged wooden desk, a little gray stereo near the cash register playing a softly fuzzy oldies station, the man offered them a bright smile, crow's feet branching tenderly from the corners of his obsidian optics and his leathery flesh dimpled with his grin.

"Good morning, good morning!"

Bracelets jangled as a delicate hand waved fervently. "It's afternoon."

"Oh! Good afternoon, good afternoon!"

Kairi giggled her own greeting of "Good afternoon, good afternoon." as the old man stood up, laughing heartily at his own blunder. The two boys lingering awkwardly before the threshold exchanged glances of mutual incredulity, though a pair of deep blue eyes was more embarrassed than the sea-green irises that radiated absolute disinterest.

"You're shopping for the dance, correct?"

"Yes, we are."

Riku shifted his weight to the opposite foot, crossing his arms and tossing his gaze absently to the side, inspecting the racks of suits and gowns. They were actually in quite good condition, pressed and crisp, newly tailored and ready to be worn; the garments weren't old-fashioned, either, contemporary enough to vouch for the high sales. Sora fidgeted, slipping idly to the side and murmuring below his breath, "Should we just let Kairi handle it?"

"Yup."

The brunette blinked, glancing up at the source of the curt answer through his lashes as he pursed his lips together into a gentle line. Riku flicked a nonchalant glimpse towards him in return, rolling his shoulders in a limp shrug. Sora tensed, brows furrowing as he gawked up at him, and his stomach knotted as he felt a sudden hunch that Riku was hiding something. Wanting to ask but not sure if he should or not, the hands shoved within the pockets of his uniform slacks fumbled nervously as he looked away from the intense aquamarine optics burning through that curtain of silvery hair, strands of which seemed so soft and sweet-smelling, that he longed to twirl on his digits—

"Okay, you guys," Kairi sing-songed, twirling around on her heel and splaying her pink-nailed fingers together in emphasis of her excitement. "Let's get shopping!" The girl paused, her happiness dying away into a girly pout as she slumped, eyeing the two boys darkly: Riku stood complacently with his arms crossed and wisps of hair getting in the way of his exasperated frown, and Sora hunched beside him with an expression similar to the older boy's but of his own capacity of moodiness, a lower strength than the other's. Kairi's pout deepened and she hissed, "You two weren't even listening to us, were you?"

"I just want to get this over with," Riku mumbled, petulant orbs flickering off to peer elsewhere interesting. The old man chuckled amiably, clasping his weathered hands together.

"Will you be needing my help, or can you find what you need?"

"We can find what we need, but thank you anyway," Kairi chirped, and her hand shot out, excessive bands and beads clinking together as she snatched up Sora's fingertips, clutching them in her own and tugging him in the direction she pivoted. "Come on, you guys!"

The brunette grunted, eyes widening gently, his former gloomy frown evaporating into a grimace of surprise; looking quickly over his shoulder as he was dragged after the mahogany-haired girl, his brows furrowed in yet another silent apology at the splenetic scowl sharpening Riku's visage. The taller boy jerked his sculpted shoulders in another rough shrug, shoved his hands into his pockets, and trudged after them, the shop owner retreating behind his desk and humming to himself at the happiness circulating within today's youth. It reminded him of old times.

Kairi's jubilant beaming faded into a faint smile, her lashes lowering on poignant optics as she halted in front of a dress rack. She paused, her hand lingering within Sora's soft knuckles, before she drew it away harshly, her own skin still tingling from the heat of his boyish paw. The brunette stood as if in a daze, gaping at the dresses like he had never before laid eyes on something so feminine and elegant. Riku remained behind him, silenced; Kairi peeked over her shoulder at him, sensing the discomfiture of both, and Sora tilted his head in ignorance as to the sudden message passed over his head between his two friends' eyes.

"Sora," Riku addressed him abruptly, pulling him backwards by the shoulders, "Kairi's going to pick some dresses. I'm going to pick some tuxes. We're going to...ah...'model' them or what the fuck ever."

"For you!" Kairi added hastily at the sight of Sora's blanched, appalled stare of perplexity. Lord, was he dense sometimes. "So you can tell us which one looks best. And then we'll help you find a suit of your own."

"Yeah," the oldest of the three acquiesced in rather plain discomposure and agitation. "So don't lie just to make us happy."

So there Sora sat, on the cushion bench amongst the clothing racks, elbows on his knees and his wide blue eyes locked immediately upon the first to emerge from the dressing rooms. It had taken five minutes for Riku to discern one certain tuxedo suit from the entire store as the one he preferred, and the two boys had sat where he now remained lonesomely while Kairi spent another ten minutes hunting for the "perfect dress" (though in that quest she found four possible candidates for "perfect dress", as well as numerous pairs of shoes to match each and a few pieces of jewelry, as if she hadn't enough at home). Now they were both hidden behind the curtains, Kairi within the womens' side and Riku in the mens'.

And, as he'd expected, Riku was the first to step out.

And holy shit, it made him squirm.

He stood there in the open space, guarded by a few full-length mirrors, with his right hand in the pocket of the pants he'd tugged on; his visage was ducked gently, lashes lowered on eyes that strove to be stony but were only more revealing than ever, bleeding out desperation for approval or negativity. Lifting his free hand, Riku threaded his fingers through the light silver locks that fell into his face, removing them from his temple momentarily as he glanced awkwardly towards the mirror at his left.

"Wow," he grunted, softly, "I'm glad I chose this one. I like it."

"Yeah..." Sora agreed stupidly, his stunned blue eyes bulging wide and his lips parted, head cocked to the side just a bit. He'd straightened up, observing his friend up and down, and with the sound of Kairi noisily dressing herself behind a separate curtain, the sight sent him defenselessly spiraling into an ocean of abysmal sentiments, thoughts and feelings engulfing him like the weedy claws of weak darkness he so victoriously fought off. Once again Riku had him captivated, but he was not holding his hand out to Sora in invitation at this point. His palm was outstretched to show the brunette the length of the sleeve—milky-smooth wrist exposed and sending shivers zipping through Sora's body—the sleeve that attached to a light, loosely-fitting jacket, draped on his broad shoulders and revealing an unbuttoned dress shirt the silver-haired teen had donned over the tank top he wore beneath his uniform. He did not have a belt, but it didn't seem that he needed one; the waistband of the slacks fit nicely at his hips, not sagging as sloppily as his other pairs of pants but not clinging to his form drastically. Sora's eyes bobbed up and down the tux, the price tag poking out rather rudely near Riku's chest but easily forgotten, until he finally swallowed on his dry throat, managing an unsteady, "I like the color."

"...Me, too," Riku grumbled, raising his brows as he adjusted the jacket on his shoulders and torso. "It's not too dark but not too light."

"Like gray."

"Yeah."

"But not a bad gray."

"No."

"Smoky gray. It's h—"

"Riku, you look so good!" Kairi squealed as she skittered out of the womens' dressing room, the two pairs of shoes she couldn't decide between dangling from her knuckles. Sora slouched with a heaved sigh of relief, breathing harshly in his panic, grateful that Kairi had saved him before he stupidly blurted out It's hot. What a dumbass! "That's a good color on you."

"I like the way it fits," the silver-haired boy murmured quietly, frowning in a troubled way that Sora could tell was merely the result of nervosity. Swallowing again, the brunette leaned back on his palms and once more viewed him up and down, indulging in the way that he looked in the formal-wear, how it accentuated the slimness of his frame while smoothly hiding the presence of his muscles; Riku turned, blatantly ignoring the stares he could so clearly feel, busying himself in the mirror as if he was vehemently concerned with his reflection.

And then Sora's gaze felt heavy, weighing itself down, sinking lower until he was gaping wide-eyed at the way the tux slacks complimented his adoration's butt. It wasn't the first time he'd found himself examining Riku's body, but this new fashion was just so mature, eloquent, new and different, and...sexy. Heart racing, stomach pinching up, his skin prickling with clammy chills even as his face burned feverishly, he just couldn't explain these deep-rooted emotions, and Sora ripped his gaze away to inspect Kairi's choice—and prevent his body from going crazy with the infinite passion blazing within his clenched chest and creeping ever further into his lower abdomen and upper thighs. Peering at her as she shuffled over to him, noticing that Riku was rather caught up in his own thoughts again, his gut knotted in frustration. Why couldn't he go with Riku to the dance? Not as a couple, because he would never be able to figure out that circus by tomorrow night, but as friends?

Oh, wow, Kairi looked nice. That's it, his mind hissed at him, if you don't think about him, maybe you'll calm down.

Ugh, but he's thinking about me! I know he is!

"Which shoes?" Kairi asked suddenly, reclaiming his attention, standing up straight and cocking her hip to the side to emphasize the gown; forcing himself to examine her chosen formal-wear as well, insisting internally that the distraction of mixing and matching was all he needed, he flicked his gaze up and down her slender body, peering at the light blue dress she'd slipped on, the straps tied behind her neck and the intricate designs at the end of the bodice that trailed down the sides to the lower hem, dusting her bare ankles. Absently, he noticed her toenails matched the color of her fingernails. She really did look very beautiful, like a goddess. Never before had he imagined she'd grow up so quickly—how different she was from the Kairi in the days of their play-pretend. The notion of growing up frightened him, reminding him caustically that his birthday was an evening away. "Which shoes would go with this dress?"

"Uh..." Sora leaned forward again, lifting a hand and jabbing a finger at the delicate pair in her left fist. Licking his dry lips lightly, he chanced a split-second peek over the girl's shoulder to the boy amidst the mirrors, and he almost gasped when his glance locked on with Riku's silent stare. Yearning, angry, guilty were his gorgeously intense irises, and he didn't try to hide it. "...Those," Sora trailed off, yanking his attention painfully back up to Kairi's smile. Fleetingly, he caught a whiff of her perfume, and he plastered up a grin in return to her elated visage, feeling agonizingly obliged to murmur, "You smell good."

Kairi's smile soured temporarily into skepticism, before her brow creased into another smile, pensive this time. "I do? Thank you, Sora," she whispered coyly.

Tension snapped through the air.

"Well," she cried, changing the topic to avoid a typical bad mood.

"Well," Sora repeated anxiously, leaning away.

"Well," Riku joined up, crossing his arms on the stiff cloth of the tuxedo jacket.

"How does this dress look on me?" Kairi spun about, holding the shoes as though they were treasures beyond her imagination. The gown fluttered around her slim body, but neither boy was looking at her. Seraphic, chaste blue eyes were mesmerized by profound sea-green optics helpless to look away. Fingers fumbled a price tag, and Kairi's delighted giggles rose to the ceiling as the stereo on the check-out desk emitted soothing tunes. Something unspeakable passed on the air, easing the tension with it's undeniable truth. Conversing with the eyes was a gift.

Sora curled up into a soft smile, lashes lowering as he turned his face away, and Riku retreated into the dressing room to hide his own heartfelt quirk of the lips.

They departed twenty minutes later, Kairi on cloud nine with her dreams of majestic, princess-like romantic things, and two boys lost in mutual thoughts trailing off behind the ambitious girl as the sun sank lower towards the horizon of ocean and sky.

It all seemed to Sora as though his fears about pathetic things like lost sex quizzes or ruined reputations and friendships were petty, and there was a balance returning again.

Or perhaps that was Cupid's fateful charm once more.