Sora's PoV
I scrambled to my feet, pushing the body off me, and blinked to try and focus blurred eyes. My vision had gone fuzzy with what I suspected was a fairly bad concussion. The—person—slid to the floor, and I was able to see the other people in the room. Tifa stood directly in front of me, breathing hard, looking absolutely furious, one leather-gloved hand clenched before her in a fist. I looked at the guy that had knocked me over. Trevor Shane was unconscious, one side of his face already swelling.
I looked up again. Aerith stood behind Tifa, fingerprints purpling on her upper arm, looking scared. I looked back at Tifa, questioningly. She lowered her fist and smiled sweetly, the picture of innocence. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. She turned to Aerith and began to help her towards the door. The younger girl was shaking, acting shocky. She spat, over and over, as though trying to get something out of her mouth. Tifa interpreted my look of utter bafflement.
"Trevor tried to kiss her. She bit him." I looked at her, trying to frame a question.
She spared me the trouble. "I hit him. I was just that mad, you know? I didn't know I could do that much damage." I just shook my head. Trevor wouldn't be getting up any time soon. I helped Aerith back up to the stairs, and then held a hand for them to wait. Sneaking up the stairs, I opened the door and peered out. The fight was over; I could see Alex lying on one of the wooden church benches, cleaning his knives with what looked like someone's t-shirt. Then waving to the girls, I pushed the door all the way open. Alex looked up, and sheathed the clean knife with a snap. The other remained in his hand. The walk was uneventful, though I leaned heavily on Alex. My steps were unsteady, weaving as I walked. I was never so glad to get back to base as I was then. Alex had to carry me down the stairs; by then I could barely walk strait, and the world was spinning lazily around me. Riku was the most welcome sight imaginable. He woke up as we came in, and the sparkle had returned to his stunning green eyes. I dimly remember Tifa asking me questions, but most of my attention was locked on those eyes. Alex set me down on an old beat up arm chair, and I sank into it gratefully. The world was still spinning, so I closed my eyes, just for a moment.
Riku's PoV
I watched as Alex carried Sora in. He looked awful, his electric eyes staring starkly out of the waxy mask of his face. But he was conscious. That alone was enough to make me dizzy with relief. I lay back and closed my eyes. He was safe. With Sora safe, all the possibilities opened up again. I sank back into the couch and closed my eyes.
I woke, much later, with the morning sun gently lighting the basement room… and the face of my love, lying on the blanket pallet on the floor beside me. He looked better, not nearly so pale, and sleep had softened the marks of pain. He looked like an angel, ethereal and calm. He stirred slightly, and I smiled. Electric blue eyes half-opened, still masked by long cinnamon lashes. Met my own green eyes. Warmth sang through me at the affection in those eyes. Neither of us wanted to break the moment. I moved first, swinging my legs over the side of the couch and kneeling beside him. He smiled, softly, and I kissed the smile. Neither of us spoke; the moment seemed too delicate to entrust to words. He broke the kiss, and I lay beside him, just reveling in each other's company. Sweet fire ran through me everywhere we touched, and his gaze sang like warm sun where it met mine. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, and we both fell asleep again in the comfort of each other's arms.
I woke alone, what couldn't be much more than an hour later. Someone had pulled a blanket over me, and when I rolled over, paper crinkled. I grabbed it; it was a note.
Sorry to leave, had something I needed to do.
Sora
I traced the loopy signature with one finger. The paper was rough and ragged along one edge, as though it had been torn from a sketch book. I folded it and tucked it into my pocket. Slowly, whimpering, I pushed myself up to my knees and stood. Every muscle in my body ached, still. Not as badly, but it wasn't better yet. I caught a glimpse of white gauze around my wrists, and raised my hands to look at them. Mother. If she saw these… there was no knowing what she would do, but it would definitely take me away from Sora. She would never believe that her 'help' would destroy me. Poetic irony, there. Something blue on the end table caught my eye. Two of my wristbands were on the table, a bit sandy, flecked slightly with blood. My backpack sat under the table. I smiled at the kind gesture, then frowned as realization hit. I had enough to cover the new bandages—but not nearly enough to mask the old scars. Part of me balked at going outside with them uncovered. Never, since I had gotten them, had I gone out with them truly bare. The skin was very pale from being constantly hidden. With Sora, I had barely noticed. He had his own scars. His were less visible, but no less real than the mind-wounds my arm reflected. I shrugged, and slid the bands on. I had to get home somehow. It took me a long moment to work up the will to open the door. Somehow, base felt like home, more so than anywhere had since my father's death. It was Sora's place. Finally, I walked outside into the warm noon sunlight. It seemed to melt away a shadow that had been brooding over me; for the first time in months, I felt healed, truly well. On the way home, people kept staring at me. Honestly, is it that strange to see a guy skipping as he walked?
Sora's PoV
Riku came to school the next day looking tired. When I asked, he just smiled and said he'd been up half the night being lectured by his mother about calling when he was at a friend's house. I smiled back. I understood. Shadows under his eyes weren't the only difference, though. Something else had changed, in the way he carried himself, the look in his eyes. It wasn't until lunch that I figured out the physical difference. No sweatbands. Well, okay, he had two hiding the bandages. But the rest of his right arm was clearly visible, scars and all. I smiled. It looked like something else had finally healed clean. Riku was sprawled out on his back, watching the clouds. He looked so innocent… the next time I looked over, his eyes were closed, and he was snoring softly. He smiled softly in his sleep, as I tucked a wayward strand of silver hair behind his ear. It was so soft… slowly, I bent down and kissed him lightly. I nearly jumped when he kissed me back. Green eyes slid open, not like gems or ocean water, but very purely Riku. Finally, we separated, both gasping for breath.
"Can I do that again?" Riku asked, laughing. I laughed back.
"I want you to. Again and again and again." Gazes turned heated, passionate. Kisses rougher, but no less sweet. Hands touched, and molten fire sang between us. Again and again and again.