Author's Note: I kind of get the feeling that a lot of readers think this is a happy fluffy story. So, just be warned: This fanfic is purely angst. If anything seems happy, it's only because the angst is still hiding. It won't be for long.

And as another note: Yes. Sora does call Riku "babe". Shut up. It's freaking adorable.


Blackbird

Chapter Three: "Enter a Noisy Street"


As the last complimenting crowd filtered past and silence settled on the vast space of the gallery, Sora heard Riku release a long, relieved sigh. Turning towards his lover, the silver-haired painter spoke, his expression taught and strained with worry.

"So," he asked anxiously, "what did you think?"

Sora smiled to himself, reaching out to gently take Riku's hands. His boyfriend always did this. After every one of the five art shows Riku had been featured in since that fateful day on the sidewalk, he'd asked Sora for his opinion.

"I think you're amazing and I don't deserve you," he murmured, pushing away a stray lock of Riku's filigree hair.

"Sora," the older man chided, wrapping his fingers around the slim curve of the brunette's hips and drawing him closer, "you know that's not true."

Both men smiled as Sora shifted to press gently against his lover. Humming contentedly, he slipped his hands into the back pocket of Riku's dark slacks, resting his head on Riku's shoulder.

"I loved all of it, Ku. I always do."

What Sora loved most about their little after-show ritual, was that he never had to lie.

"I feel like I'm losing it," Riku sighed, burying his nose in Sora's silken hair and tightening his grip on the boy.

The brunette frowned softly, twisting his fingers in the hair at the nape of his boyfriend's neck. Riku had been saying that a lot lately, and it worried him.

'I feel like I'm losing it,' Riku would say.

Or, 'I don't feel inspired.'

Sora hated it.

After the second showing Sora had attended with Riku – the first he attended as his boyfriend - the artist had started this ritual by asking the brunette what he'd though. Then he'd said something that had assured his grasp on Sora's heart.

"They're all of you," he'd said.

None of them were actually paintings of Sora, but he'd understood. He was Riku's inspiration, his muse.

But now Riku felt uninspired, and it was absolutely tearing Sora apart. If Riku felt uninspired, where did that leave him? What did it say about their relationship?

"You've still got me, right?" the younger man stammered hesitantly. He hoped Riku's answer would be reassuring, but dreaded that small possibility that it would not. "As long as you've got me, you'll be fine."

Sora made no effort to disguise his anxiety, and his boyfriend did not miss it. His expression melted swiftly into one of bewildered self-berating.

"Sora," he drawled apologetically, "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry." As he spoke he pulled away to place a soft kiss at the corner of his lover's mouth.

The brunette vaguely remembered a time – a single incident – when kissing Riku had tasted bitter. The silver-haired man had been working on a new painting, and it was eating all of his time. When he'd finally managed to pull away from it to spend some time with Sora, Sora had imagined that as he kissed him, it was draining away all of his inspiration.

"I know," Sora murmured, smiling awkwardly, "I was being silly, that's all."

Riku opened his mouth to chide the younger man, but held back his words as a final viewer passed by, making his way out of the gallery. The two lovers stepped away from each other, clasping hands and smiling at the stranger expectantly.

Sora surveyed the man, and felt his smile falter. He was tall, with careless chestnut hair and grey eyes, cold as steel yet soft as brimming storm clouds. His gaze sent tiny, nervous shivers through Sora's body as the smaller brunette furrowed his brows at the man's attire. He was dressed only in leather, his pants clinging to his muscular thighs and the collar of his short jacket was trimmed with fur.

As Riku's grip on Sora's hand loosened, the latter's distrust of this second brunette increased. He was attractive, yes – very attractive. Yet there was something about him, Sora just couldn't figure out what it was.

He seemed gruff, and cold, but beneath all that, Sora could not find a spark of hope. This, he realized, was why he did not trust the man. He'd always been able to find that spark, in everyone he'd ever met.

He'd even managed to find it in Axel.

When this stranger spoke, Sora was surprised by the low, soothing sound of his voice.

"Good," he said, Riku smiling and opening his mouth to give thanks in response, "but not your best."

At those words, Riku's smile only widened, and Sora found one of his own. His boyfriend always hated the courteous, polite compliments. He thrived on people's critique, on the rare occasion that they were bold enough to voice them.

"Oh?" the artist asked, "What would you say was?"

Without hesitation, the tall brunette replied.

"A few years back you showed a collection in Serendipity Bay. Sanctuary"

Riku and Sora exchanged a quick, knowing glance. They agreed. Sanctuary was the collection Riku had started working on just after he'd saved a drowning, blue-eyed boy from a sticky purse and an ocean of concrete.

"Sanctuary, really?" the silver-haired man inquired, anxious to hear the second brunette's critique.

The other man nodded. Sora watched silently and stepped closer to Riku.

"It was your use of color. Sanctuary was very soft, quixotic. This one seemed very garish."

As Sora looked up at his boyfriend, he could see that Riku was obviously surprised; maybe even a little offended by the comment. However, after a moment his expression changed to one of contemplation.

"I think…I wanted garish."

Brows furrowing, Sora regarded the artist nervously, his azure eyes wide and bewildered. He didn't know what that comment had meant, but he felt the third man's gaze travel to him, and decided it meant something he would not like.

"Have you been to many of my shows?" Riku asked as the stranger's eyebrow arched sharply, possibly contemplating why anyone would want garish.

Sora coughed softly, trying to remind Riku of his presence, but the bright-eyed man made no reaction to the sound, only waited for the third's reply.

"Most of them," he answered, his gaze turning back towards Sora, who was fidgeting nervously, fingers flying out to grab at the painter's sleeve.

"Then I'll see you at the next one."

Sora thought that Riku's words sounded more like a demand than a question.

"Most likely."

"I'll try not to disappoint you next time."

As the words hit air, Sora experienced a familiar sensation, in which the comfortable ocean he'd been floating in for years was suddenly sucked away, landing him in heat and dry sand. His lowered eyes instantly fled upwards, where they clashed with storm clouds.

This second brunette had heard it too, the sudden absence of warm water on soft white sand, the jarring silence of Sora's desert. He'd heard it, and he seemed to be just as bewildered by it as Sora was.

But neither spoke of the sound. The stranger merely turned to walk out the door, as Sora stood still and felt his stomach churn.

Riku remained unaware of it all as he watched the older man disappear. There was a smirk splitting his lips, and it vanished just as the man did, replaced by a thin, expressionless line. His voice was flat as he spoke.

"They're all of you, Sora."

The blue-eyed boy searched the recesses of his heart and mind, and could not decide if he wanted these paintings to be of him.

Before he finished searching, before he could decide, Riku turned to him, that confident smirk making a brilliant return as he offered Sora his hand.

Without hesitation, without thought, and without a smile, Sora accepted it, allowed his still-savior to lead him out into the darkened city streets. The elder offered a gentle, reassuring squeeze and a soft, affectionate kiss as they moved, and yet Sora still did not smile. Something was off. Something had crept into the carefully guarded, tranquil spaces in their relationship and curled there, bloated and unfitting. It did not belong with them, yet there it was.

Sora wondered if Riku could feel it too. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

When they exited the building, a pale, slender hand stretched across the air, waving back and forth as it's owner called out excitedly.

"It is you!" A young woman cried as she hurried over to them. Her long auburn hair and amethyst eyes seemed familiar, but the happy glow of her wide grin prevented Sora from placing her name.

"It's Kairi," she explained upon seeing the couple's confused expressions, "from when you met."

Both men blinked, unable to recall that anyone else had been involved in the incident.

"The girl with the purse," Kairi continued, her excitement just as evident as before.

Sora instantly, though vaguely, remembered the purse that had caught him, and the girl with the half-hearted smile who'd owned the bag. She seemed happier now.

"Right!" he chirped, shaking away his precious thoughts. A glance at Riku showed that the other man did not remember Kairi at all.

The girl's already wide smile stretched further as she continued.

"I've been looking for you two for years! I had no idea how to even start, but last night I saw this thing on the news about a 'Riku Higure' on the news. I had no idea if it was you, but I guess it is!"

Still grinning, she pushed aside a stray lock of russet hair and waited patiently for a response.

Sora had no idea what to say. Riku didn't seem to care. His attention was clearly focused elsewhere, his bright eyes following the curve of the street.

"Anyway," Kairi chirped, completely unfazed by the lack of reactions, "you guys are still together, right?"

Riku snapped back to life then, smirking and snaking an arm around his lover's waist. He stamped a wet kiss on Sora's neck as the younger man mumbled something about the act being inappropriate. The redhead only laughed, her button nose crinkling a little. Sora noted that if he were straight, he probably would have found her attractive.

"I'll take that as a yes," she giggled, "So…uh, if you guys aren't busy…"

Sora frowned and looked up at his boyfriend, who clucked his tongue apologetically.

"Actually, we're about to head over to the after party. It was great seeing you again, though."

The brunette hated the way Riku had said that. He'd sounded too relieved, and Kairi blinked at him, puzzled.

And Sora was overcome with renewed paranoia. Every part of him was stricken with the fear that Riku only wanted to go to the after party to see if that stranger was going to be there. It wasn't an unlikely possibility. The man had said he'd been to a lot of Riku's shows.

And Riku had sounded so smug, so sure of himself when he'd promised not to disappoint at the next showing. He'd sounded exactly the same when he'd asked Sora to join him for coffee three years ago…

"Riku," Sora whispered, leaning in so that Kairi would not hear, "I just want to go home, please."

Riku frowned, raising a hand and placing it tenderly on his lover's forehead.

"You all right?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm just tired, that's all."

"Can we at least make an appearance? It'd be best for publicity, reputation and all that."

Sora cast a worried glance at the girl, who had turned away to politely concentrate on something else.

"Babe, can we please just go home?"

Riku frowned again.

"Ku…" Sora knew he was whining, but whining always seemed to work with the artist, who smiled apologetically in reply.

"Alright, we can go," he paused to kiss Sora's brow quickly, "but I need coffee. We're gonna stop at Sanctuary on the way, okay?"

Sora nodded as Riku turned to the redhead, who was humming softly to herself.

"Hey Kairi? We're actually going to head to get some coffee quickly. Would you like to join us?"

"That'd be great!" The girl chirped, whirling around and skipping towards them.

Smiling, Sora felt a little at ease now. If Riku had been so easy to lure away from the after party, then perhaps there was no reason to worry about that stranger. And Kairi seemed like a sweet girl.

Something about the way they walked together, Riku and Kairi easily falling into a friendly conversation, lightened his spirit. He could really see the three of them becoming quick friends.

But that bloated thing that had invaded their relationship purred, and Sora's mood was dampened once more.