Riku vaguely registered through sleep-addled ears that he heard his doorbell ringing. Sluggishly, he limped to the intercom, pressing it down before remembering he wouldn't be able to greet whoever it was.
"Riku?" the speaker asked. "It's me!" it declared cheerfully.
Riku froze, removing his finger from the button. He could feel his features twisting into a hardened grimace.
I'm not ready, he thought, but knew he had no way of conveying the sentiment without first letting the other boy in.
He sighed, knowing that once he did, he'd no longer want to be away from him. Against his will, he pressed the button to unlock the front entrance.
This is not ideal, he thought, weakly moving to open the door to the hallway.
That usual smile greeted him.
"Riku," he began, his expression turning to shock upon seeing the state of the silver boy. "Did you sleep all day?" His hair was in complete and total disarray.
He marched in, taking command of the space. "I knew I should check on you. Have you eaten yet?"
The unkempt boy shook his head dully.
"Then, it's dinner time," Sora smiled.
Riku tilted his head, unsure of the implication.
"I'm cooking," Sora supplied.
What!? Riku thought, his panic readily apparent.
"First of all," Sora puffed out his cheeks. "Ouch." His features lightened as he bounced into his next sentence. "Secondly, beggars can't be choosers."
Riku clambered over to his nightstand, took the sketchbook, and jotted something down. I didn't beg, he held it up, stoic.
"Ah," Sora winced. "You're back to your usual attitude."
The taller boy quickly added, I never stopped.
Sora chuckled dryly. "I dunno, you seemed nicer," he stuck out his tongue, moving to the kitchenette. "Alright, what ingredients do you have?" he asked, hazarding a look in the refrigerator.
"Oh," he stated disappointedly. "You only have…" he paused in wonder. "A single block of cheese?"
Riku only shrugged at the accusation in the smaller boy's voice.
"Alright," Sora declared, turning on his heels. "New plan: delivery!"
Riku smirked and handed him the phone.
As Sora had been in charge of the call, he decided what they ordered. That was what he said, at least, until Riku made him aware of the fact he wasn't carrying any money. Nonetheless, he'd still let the younger boy decide.
They both had fresh fish with colorful, sugary fruits for desert.
"Delicious," Sora sighed, sitting down next to Riku on the bed. "Healthy food like that will help you get better faster," he stated.
Riku shook his head, but thought better of saying otherwise, instead jotting down a note to show him. Maybe.
Sora's tone lost its jubilance. "Hey," he started, shakily. "What is wrong with your throat, anyway?"
Riku was silent and made no move to write anything down.
"Won't you tell me?" Sora asked, emotion raw in his words.
Riku's mouth opened, instinctively, but he quickly closed it, moving to slowly write a new note.
I'll be okay.
He was shocked, then, when Sora took his book away.
"What's even the point of this," he asked, bitterly. "If you just dodge everything anyway?"
Riku looked away, balling his fists.
Sora shook his head as if waking from a daze. "Sorry," he offered curtly, setting the book onto Riku's lap. "I just want you to know, I'm here for you."
Riku moved to pick up the sketchbook, but Sora's whimpered plea interrupted the action. "Please, can you," he breathed, eyes averting Riku's confused gaze. "Can you tell me without writing it?"
The stoic boy stared, puzzled but trying to keep his breathing regular. He inhaled deeply, meeting Sora's eyes as the meek boy peeked at him from the corners of his eyes.
He pointed at himself and Sora turned to face him, watching every movement with fascination. Riku gulped, suddenly feeling pressured by the intense stare. How do I even convey this? He wondered. Blinking, he moved his hand over his heart, pressing it down firmly.
"Home?" Sora asked, to which Riku only shook his head quickly. The residual embarrassment from earlier flooded back to him causing his heart to clench. He closed his eyes. Just how many humiliating sides to myself will I show you?, he wondered, hazarding a look back at Sora's face.
The younger boy looked as though he still had more guesses to mull over, judging by his furrowed brows. I… Riku swallowed, moving before his thoughts could finish.
Sora saw a flurry of silver as he was suddenly enveloped in pale but warm arms. All distance between them vanished.
The air in the smaller boy's lungs came out in a surprised, "oh," as he registered what was happening. Oh, he echoed, escaping into his mind. As his eyes darted around nervously, he noticed that his mouth was very close to Riku's white neck. If I moved even a little, he wondered, pulse quickening and snapping him out the hypothetical. He opened his mouth to breath in deeper, all too aware of how he'd felt Riku's arms shake subtly before increasing ever so slightly with pressure.
Are you… afraid?, Sora wondered.
He breathed in, calming himself as much as he could.
"Riku," Sora said thoughtfully, circling his arms around the other's broad back. "I'm here, remember?"
Riku let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in, watching vaguely as Sora's tufts moved in response. I know, he thought, his hold tightening around Sora's slender shoulders. He moved his face to nuzzle gently against the soft brown hair beneath him.
I want to tell you, I know.
The larger boy's body shook with what Sora guessed was a sigh. Relief?, he wondered, smiling at the thought. You're just as scared as I am, you big softie, he smiled, before feeling a gentle tickling against the top of his head; throwing his thoughts into disarray once again.
They stayed like that for several minutes, time lost on them. Riku's breathing became a clash of nervous, rapid breaths and deep, relaxed inhales. Sora had a way of inflicting such feelings at the same time, he lamented.
Sora couldn't tell, fighting his own battle at feigning his normal tempo.
"Riku," he began, unsure. "Can I stay with you tonight?", Sora asked breathily against his neck. Hastily, he added, "I don't think you should be alone."
The silver boy paused, wanting to think it over. Sighing, he craned his neck forward, resting his face fully against Sora. He wanted to be sure the other felt his movements as he shook his head in refusal.
"Why?" Sora asked, his tone shaped by a snarl of his teeth.
Riku pulled away from him, picking up the sketchbook and writing a note. I need to think. He added on another note. I'm sorry.
Sora looked up at him, brows furrowed. "Is thinking something that can't be done with others around?"
He added more. This kind of thinking is.
Sora looked down. "I haven't felt like I needed to be alone."
Another note. Do you ever think?
"What do I have to think about?" Sora asked. "Everything that can be thought can be talked out, so," he rushed, "What's the point of thinking alone?"
Riku was still for a while.
"Come on, Riku, we should talk about stuff."
He didn't know why he felt so afraid as he watched Riku jot down another line. Talk about what?
Sora was lost for words. Talk about… what, he wondered suddenly. "Uh, how to, um, go back to…" he stuttered, trailing off. What do I want to talk to him about? I thought it was about going back to how we were, but, he gulped. Somehow, that feels wrong. Just what was... The lump in his stomach came back.
He was jostled from his thoughts when he noticed Riku writing something else. I really don't feel like talking right now.
"Okay, Riku," Sora sighed, defeated. Kairi was right, he thought.
Riku got up to lead him to the door, stopping when he saw the sour look on the small boy's face. He ruffled the other boy's hair playfully, causing his non-resisting head to move this way and that. But still, his expression didn't change.
"I'll be back tomorrow," Sora stated, opening the door. "Goodnight, Riku." He stepped into the hall, but looked back before the silver boy closed him off. "And please," he asked. "Have good dreams."
Riku nodded, closing the door.
He wanted to say yes. If he wished it, he'd have let him stay indefinitely, despite the lack of space.
A sigh turned to a snarl, and he sat down on the bed to tear out the sketchbook's used pages. Being near you is the problem.
His hand lingered on a fresh, unblemished page of parchment, and he couldn't help but pick up a pencil and record the image that was never far from his mind.
He stayed up for hours trying to draw Sora's smiling face.
Outside, the chill of night bit into Sora's neck. He shivered. Time to go home, he sighed, beginning the journey.
He'd managed to hang out with Kairi all day, and was sure that Riku would agree to a sleepover. It had been so long since they had any, but the past two nights were practically that.
The moon caught his eye as he crossed an empty, curved bridge. Why are you pulling away from me again?
He bit his tongue, annoyed at himself. What's with Riku anyway? The face he made after asking if I think, he remembered, scowling.
I can think! I'll think! I'm thinking!
Sora faintly realized that his heartbeat was flurried, every beat slightly painful. He tilted his head.
Why does thinking about this hurt?
Because… because… I want to be close to him.
His feet broke into a run.
Of course I do, his inner voice pleaded. He's my best friend.
His pace increased.
Just like Kairi, he asserted. Just like…
The images of their afternoon together flashed before his eyes. Everything was so simple with her. He never had to second-guess every glance, every touch.
Why can't it be like that with Riku too? When did it change?
His feet were stumbling, but still he ran faster.
He thought back to when things had been simple with Riku.
No, he shook his head. I don't want to think.
He tripped, nearly falling forward, stopping his fall by steadying himself a nearby wall.
I just didn't know, he whimpered.
Why, he begged, vainly trying to catch his ragged breath.
Why won't you talk to me?
"I," he panted. "I don't want to think."
He moved forward. "I want to talk."
Forcing his aching legs into a sprint, he leapt towards home. Faster, he hoped, than his thoughts could follow.