Full Summary: In the uncertain world of adults, Sora and Riku attempt to patch together their shaky relationship after almost 5 years apart. It's about love and hate and lost trust, set in a world where the magic has run dry and the boys see each for who they really are. The tension doesn't last for long, however, as both men fall into a routine that they both know very well. Along the way, they become reacquainted with the old qualities that brought them together, while familiarizing themselves with the individuals that each person has become.
Warnings: Language, A Sad Tidus
Disclaimer: None of the characters within this fanfic belong to me. If it did, this would be a full length movie with all smexy-slashy-yaoiness I could legally fit onto a single DVD. Kingdom Hearts is a lovely invention of Square Enix.
Hypervigilance
Chapter 9: Anguish
-
Sora breathed in deep through his nose a couple of times, sniffling quietly again. His breathing could barely be heard over the tinny applause from the television and the silence between the two men was stifling. Not like it was with Kairi, where silence only meant they had said everything that needed to be said and all that was left was just plain, comfortable quiet the both of them could share. No, this silence was strained and tense, pulled tight and raw like piano wire. It meant there was too many things to say and not enough ways to say them. It meant Sora was rapidly building his wall again, reverting back to the dark, bitter being Riku couldn't recognize.
Riku's chances of clearing that wall were dwindling fast and it was either speak now or risk losing him again. Except, it was like, why bother? It was clear the relationship was broken far beyond repair, and Riku wasn't sure how he felt about being brushed off one moment, then relentlessly clung to the next. It was almost exhausting, the unpredictability and often erratic nature of Sora's motives. It was exhausting, just trying to figure out whether he actually wanted him or not. Sora used his love like a weapon, at least that much was obvious.
Sora sniffled again, his face buried in the back of his knees. The way he was slumped on the floor made his legs look abnormally long. Like he was seven feet tall.
"Are you crying?" That was first thing Riku said to him, after two rounds of boring sitcoms, and his toast now long gone, the crumbs on his plate to only reminder that he had actually eaten that morning. There were several things that he could've said that were more appropriate. Like an apology for one, for upsetting him. He could've handled the situation better. He was the older one here; he should've stopped Sora and Tidus from arguing, he shouldn't have let himself get so angry because he could understand why Sora would be so confrontational. Not that he was justifying his behavior or anything, but he could still understand.
"No." Sora grunted, unconvincingly because he wouldn't even lift his head to show that his eyes weren't red-rimmed and puffy, that his face wasn't wet and tired and sad. It was hard to tell just from his voice.
Riku could've apologized, for every wrong he did in the past, for every time he left Sora alone and every time he hurt him, deliberately or inadvertently. It would've been easy. Only two words. Five, if he was specific.
I'm sorry for hurting you.
I'm sorry I'm fucking stupid.
I'm sorry you love me.
Sora slumped farther, leaning more awkwardly against the wall. He lifted his hips a fraction off the floor, retrieving a small flip-top box from his back pocket. Cigarettes. He lit up, not bothering to ask if it was okay. Say something. Say anything, Riku.
Yet, somehow, Riku only managed to get distracted trying to find something Sora could use as an ashtray; he completely forgot about any words he could've offered as penance for his past actions. He honestly couldn't think of a thing to say once he walked the plate his breakfast was on over to the seated brunet, setting it on the floor beside him. Sora's cheeks dimpled as he drew in smoke, but it was clear he wasn't giving him any signs of gratitude. His eyes flickered off to the side instead.
Sora took a long drag, the cherry of his cigarette glowing a bright orange. "There's blood on your floor." He muttered, looking up at Riku finally, exhaling through his words.
Riku stopped half-way back to the couch, glancing at the dark, oil black and ink-sticky spots on the concrete. His hand throbbed dully, reminiscent about the moment it shattered right there. Punching away at his perfect masterpiece. He never bothered to clean it up, half because he simply forgot about it, half because it carried a sort of sentimental value for him. Because he deserved the pain it implied.
"Is that how you hurt your hand?" Sora asked knowingly, his eyes impossibly blue and staring into the side of Riku's face. "Because of me?"
"I deserved it." Riku declared, curling all of his fingers except for the two all wrapped and abnormally straightened. Sora only nodded, agreeing.
And that was it. The end of the conversation. Unless Riku could find something else to say to him, because Sora honestly wasn't trying. He curled his arms around his knees and sat there, smoking and breathing and not say anything.
"Evann seemed...nice." Riku said eventually, figuring it was a good a place as any to start. As of last night, his opinion of Sora's husband became common ground they could both talk about. He stopped before he returned to his seat, sitting instead on the arm of the couch. Sora glanced at the blood again, then raising his eyes questioningly to Riku's face.
"He is nice." He said, flicking ashes onto the plate at his side, sucking languidly from his cigarette. "He's always nice."
"Yeah, I noticed." Riku scratched the back of his hand, remembering the constant smile the blond kept giving him all night. "He knows about us, huh?" Sora nodded, silently. "Not everything though." He shook his head this time.
"You ever going to tell him?" Riku continued, referring to...whatever this was between them. The toxic little one-sided love affair. No, that wasn't actually true. It wasn't one-sided, but Riku would never tell him that. Not now, not after what he did. He only said that to push him away, but it didn't seem like Sora was leaving any time soon. Not until they resolved this.
"I don't know. I can't hurt him." His words sounded rehearsed. Riku wondered how many times he had told himself that in indecision. "I know you don't understand, but Evann's everything to me."
"No, I understand. You need him, right?" Riku said this as impassively as he could, fortunately keeping all bitter jealously from his voice. If he was jealous, that meant he cared.
"I need anyone." Sora flicked a long column of ash onto the plate. "You know, I haven't spent the night alone since I got married, until that week Evann left to visit his parents. Three years and that was first time he left me. And then I came here." Riku raised his eyebrows a fraction, wondering if that was really true. If that was really the reason he showed up with his little story about darkness and worlds and Kingdom Hearts. Because he needed someone to spend the night with.
Riku felt vaguely disenchanted, dashing his original thoughts about Sora coming back into his life because he honestly wanted to, not because he was too scared to be alone for a week. "You used me?"
"You're surprised?" Sora shot back, taking one last drag off his cigarette before grinding it out on the cheap flatware.
Riku was quiet, watching the hot ash that was most likely permanently marking his dinner plate. "Not really." It really wasn't surprising. He'd already come to that conclusion several times himself. Sora saying out loud only made the evidence more concrete.
"It took me until now to realize I was still in love with you." Sora laughed a little. "You wouldn't believe how much I hated you until last night. Like, serious hate. I could've killed you if I really wanted to." Sora licked the corner of his mouth. "I really could've."
Sora smiled at the floor, and Riku absurdly contemplated sliding a little farther back on the couch. Out of striking range. But Sora never moved so it was clear he wasn't being confrontational. A little tired and hungover, maybe.
"So, now, you..."
"Yep. I love you, now. Again." He corrected, playing with the ashes with the tip of his finger.
Well, that seemed oddly...easy. Especially for Sora who was being appallingly cavalier for someone who was just willing to fight one of his childhood friends over him.
"And you ever touch Tidus again, I'll kill him too." There you go.
Sora's hands make a brief movement to the floor at his side. An invitation to sit with him. Riku scoffed behind his teeth, clenching his jaw to keep it from escaping. He couldn't really say he wanted to be too close to him right now, not with the way he went ballistic on Tidus. Well, he did, but he didn't. Half of him just wanted to jump at the slightest opportunity of being allowed to touch him again, especially after being ignored and pushed aside on one of the biggest nights of his life, forced to talk to Sora's overly-unhateable husband, and on top of that, feeling like he was losing some major territory here if he didn't, joining him on the floor was probably Riku's best bet at regaining some shred of affection. Because it was the intimacy with Sora that Riku missed the most, even more than the sex. Because kissing and holding hands with Sora was way better than any one-night stand with any one.
"I love you too" would be a really helpful thing to say at this point, and then Sora would stand up and Riku could take him in his arms and smile against his neck and smell the earthy scent of his similarly colored hair. Then they could get married and live together and get matching tattoos, and hell, maybe adopt a kid, because those four words were the catalyst to undo the whole fucking past. Then they could hold hands for eternity and pretend that they weren't slowly and purposefully tearing each other apart.
"No." Riku said finally, not only refusing to sit beside him, but refusing to tell him that he really was madly and ignorantly in love with him and it wasn't one-sided, because then that confirmed that Sora could just walk over him whenever he felt like, so long as he loved him while he was doing it. Goddammit, he did not just put himself through hell, dragging up old horrendous memories of something he never imagined he could ever do to anyone, ever, just to have absolutely nothing to show for it. He apologized, he admitted his crime, the blood on the floor proved that he had physically suffered for hurting Sora. That was it. He couldn't do anything more, unless he somehow figured out how to turn back time. He had fucking paid for it, now it was time to let it the fuck go.
Sora blinked, his eyebrows barely rising above the standard surprise level, leaving his expression looking rather...indignant.
"No. You can't control me, Sora." Riku practically breathed defiance. It's not that he really wanted to end this before he made any actual progress with Sora, but he had his dignity and this wasn't going anywhere. Just another vicious cycle in their relationship that he couldn't handle anymore.
Sora rolled his eyes, standing and bending over to pick up the plate he used as an ashtray. "I'm not trying to control you. Why would you even think that?" Riku wasn't convinced, watching as Sora moved around the island in the kitchen, dumping ashes in the trashcan under the sink. "I mean, I was, before, you know..." His sentence died in a quiet trail of syllables, and then he smiled, leaning forward, elbows on the counter. "You've changed a lot, Riku."
Riku frowned, dumbfounded by his sudden change in mood. This wasn't exactly how the conversation was supposed to go. There should be more yelling and accusations. "No," Riku started, attempting to drag up his former argument. He was supposed to end this, because them being together in any type of romantic setting was evil and reasonably poisonous to every one, even people not involved.
"You could've said something. To Evann, but you never did."
"So?" Riku muttered, glancing at the television, muted sounds of laughter peeling from the speakers as one of the characters tripped and hit the floor. It's not like it would've been very appropriate to tell a perfect stranger something like "Your husband's sleeping with me" in a public place.
"You care." Sora declared, seemingly very pleased with his own conclusion. Riku was almost surprised he wasn't singing it. "You still care about me." He reiterated, crossing the room from the kitchen to the couch in a few steps. Then Sora was in front of him, his arms lightly draped around his neck. Sora was hugging him, but Riku couldn't bring himself to return the gesture. He breathed in the warm potpourri smell of his shampoo, but kept his hands helplessly folded in his lap.
"Don't do this to me." Riku murmured pleadingly against his neck, closing his eyes. It was too much, how much he was loving this and hating it at the same time. His mind was warring between 'touch me, touch me please' and 'god, don't ever touch me again', stuck between shoving Sora away and holding him possessively to his chest and never letting him go again.
Sora pulled back slightly, loosening his embrace enough to look him in the face. "Don't do what?"
"It won't last." You'll leave me again. I know you will. Riku looked down, his gaze falling on Sora's stomach, conspicuously covered by his fitted t-shirt. "If I asked you to stay tonight, would you? Would you spend the night with me, here?"
"Well, no." Sora looked confused for a moment, his fingers idly curling in Riku's hair. "But, it won't always be like that."
"Really." Riku was far from convinced, looking up. It was clear that Sora wasn't happy with married life, but he wasn't exactly running from it either. Seemed like he was perfectly content with hanging in the middle, making no real commitment to either of them. For a whole second, Riku felt genuinely bad for Evann. They were practically in the same boat after all. Except in Evann's boat, he actually got Sora every night.
"You'll just have to trust me." Sora said eventually, sounding vaguely offended. "Remember that? How we used to trust each other?"
No need for sarcasm, Sora.
Riku caved and placed his hands on Sora's hips lightly, annoyingly guilty because of a certain blond he slept with the night before—but he tried not to think about that too much because, right now, it really wasn't one of his proudest memories. Sora nudged his cheek with his nose, stealing his attention again.
"Do you want me?" Sora asked, his voice low, sending a raw shiver through Riku's body. He nudged his cheek for the second time, taking his chin in his hand and turning his head up to look him the eyes. "Hm?" He hummed, his water-colored eyes dancing playfully.
Of course.
"Say, yes." The brunet smiled, gently running his thumb across Riku's lips. "Say, of course I want you, Sora. I've always wanted you--"
"Shut up, Sora." Riku's not exactly sure how he managed to sound so light-hearted when, really, he still felt nervous for no reason and he didn't feel like any of this was solving anything. Sora was still married and he was still lonely and vying for human affection. It helped though, because, remember, the intimacy was all he really wanted.
Sora took over from there, grinning brilliantly. His lips were sweet and very, very much missed. Soft and warm and everything good that Riku could remember about his adolescence. Because Sora embodied sunny beaches and cool water around your ankles, and a bright blue sky that stretched on forever. His tongue was hot and slick in his mouth and his hands were touching everywhere, much better than sex-god-blonds, and his fingers left blazing rays of sunlight on Riku's skin.
Sora gasped a little as Riku's hands pushed up his shirt to the middle of his stomach, his flat palms running straight lines down his sides, pausing on his hips and running back up again. Riku needed this, he owed Sora that much, to make up for last night. Because he didn't want to remember another man's body other than the one before him.
Riku vaguely recalled this moment happening before, Sora's fingers raking through his hair and slowly, so slowly pressing his lithe body flush against his own so one leg nestled between Riku's, rubbing in a way that made his breath catch and shudder. Too long ago, it felt like years. Sora's hands are on his shoulders, his mouth tasting the length of his neck in cool, wet presses of his lips. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, before Riku feels himself being guided back onto the couch cushions, Sora moving down with him, his knees on either side of his waist and one elbow propped up beside his head.
Sora's free hand wandered automatically downward, his thumb just popping the button loose on Riku's pants when Riku suddenly wanted to sit up, and all movement stalled for a long minute. Sora frowned as he was pushed a fraction of an inch backward, his eyes questioning.
"Sorry, I—We kinda...did it right here." Riku licked his lips, letting out a breath in a sharp puff of air. It just felt wrong not to tell him, because it was just yesterday that he was in the exact same spot, doing exactly what he and Sora would never be doing on this particular piece of furniture again. From the way Sora's eyes narrowed in understanding, Riku wouldn't be surprised if he was forced to throw out the couch later.
"Here?" Sora asked. Riku didn't even want to nod. "I helped you buy this couch..." Sora added needlessly, disappointment apparent in his voice. Typical, he just had to say the one thing that made Riku feel worse than he already did.
Sora scowled darkly, probably thinking up some good death threats to give Tidus if he ever saw him again, awkwardly climbing off back over the arm of the old couch that creaked dangerously under all the stress. That really wasn't how Riku intended to have the afternoon go, by the way. "Sorry." He muttered again.
He still looked a little angry for a second before his expression evened out into a more resigned frown. He still wasn't letting it go though, that much was obvious. "Fine. We'll just go--" Sora gestured toward the bed on the other side of the apartment, but Riku must've made a face he wasn't aware of because he scowled again, darker this time. "Is there anywhere you didn't fuck him?"
Riku sat up, finally, brushing his hair down with his fingertips, forcing it to lay down over his shoulders. He sighed heavily, as if some great giant was pushing one stubby finger right in the middle of his chest, pressing all the air out of his lungs. "That's really not fair, Sora."
Sora didn't look like he really cared if it was fair or not, but he at least had the decency to back off. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood in the middle of the room, glancing at every surface surreptitiously, and Riku hoped to whatever God that existed that he wasn't imagining him having sex with Tidus all over the apartment.
"Sora," Riku murmured, rising from his seat on the couch because he really just needed to hold him, and distract him from whatever unholy thoughts he was thinking at the moment. It was important that he hold him right now, because he still felt ridiculously guilty and only with his arms around Sora could he hope to curb some of the empty breathlessness he was feeling.
"I want to start over." The words came to him suddenly, after a few indecisive movements towards Sora, taking even longer to finally will himself to touch the younger man, longer still to find the best and most comfortable position for his arms to rest around Sora's thin waist. He said it without fully thinking out what exactly that meant to the both of them. Start the conversation over, start the last couple of days over? How far back in time did those words actually pertain to?
Sora touched one arm, his hand wrapping loosely around his wrist. He didn't pull him off though, just rested his head back on Riku's shoulder and sighed a little, tilting his neck to the side. "Start over?"
Sora's hair brushed the underside of Riku's chin as he dipped his head, gently nuzzling the warmth of his shoulder. "Maybe we should try, you know, dating again." He said it, and then he couldn't believe how incredibly intelligent that sounded coming from his mouth. He blinked and held his breath, tightening his embrace on Sora while he waited for some kind of reaction.
"Yeah, sure." Sora chuckled. "Like I don't have enough committed relationships."
"I'm serious." Riku said, swaying them a little, side to side. Sora lets himself be swayed, looking up so his nose bumped against the bottom of his jaw.
"Really?" His voice is a bit too surprised, eyes a little too wide in wonder, and for a second, Sora just looks too damn adorable. Enough to steer him back toward the kitchen and press him up against the counter, just hard enough to hear those little soft gasping sounds he likes to make, because he and Tidus never went anywhere near the kitchen. At least Sora couldn't object about that. "You want to?" He said this in a quieter voice as if anyone else was really around to hear him and be properly scandalized.
"Well, yeah—You know, after the divorce and everything." Muttering into the warmth of his neck, Riku's words didn't sound as nearly as insensitive as they did out loud. Not until Sora suddenly cast his eyes downward, his head following suit, and everything else, his shoulders, his arms, his whole body slumping successively against Riku's chest. The actual words made everything seemed that much more real.
"Divorce? Damn." Sora cursed, pulling away a little. Riku loosened his embrace to allow him some room, despite the voice in his head telling to never let him go again. "That sounds really bad, doesn't it?" Honestly, yeah it kinda did. Sora looked immensely worried and distraught and that was never a pleasant thing for anyone to witness.
"It doesn't have to be right now." Riku finally assured him after a long silence, one hand petting his hair, a calming, very calming gesture. It wasn't what he was really feeling in his gut, but it was what Sora needed to hear, and like the true sycophant that he was, Riku often sacrificed his own feelings in order to make Sora happy, albeit he still did it in the most selfish fashion he knew how.
"First, I want to compromise." Sora said, frowning, though his own determination was clear underneath his more pained expression. He must've caught the reluctance in Riku's voice when he said he could wait until Sora was ready to leave his spouse of three years.
"I'm listening."
"I don't trust you." The frankness of his words was, admittedly, disorienting, but Riku recovered easily, nodding a little. Sora stepped back again, his body only within reach of fingertips now. "You want me to leave Evann, I need to be able to trust you first."
Riku had a smart-ass comment forming right behind his teeth, something about how he was expected to trust Sora but he had earn back Sora's trust like some stranger. As totally unjustified as it was, he couldn't help but think that they had been friends their lives, he shouldn't have to prove himself—he never had to before. Back then, Sora just accepted him back into his life with open arms. But then, he remembered, still not sure how he even forgot, that this wasn't exactly the same situation.
"Okay."
And then Sora smiled, and it felt like a huge relief, like the giant had finally stopped crushing him under his finger. Sora and his cheesy little sunshine smile, he hugged Riku tightly, then proceeded to move back to the kitchen to make them a proper breakfast.
And that was...okay. For now, anyway.
–
Riku already associated with Tidus with speed before their one-night affair, both of them. It was the way he talked, the quick empathic hand gestures he used when telling a particularly eventful story. And after their sordid nights together, it was how easily Riku could excite a notable amount of passion in the young blond, because it was pretty clear that he was enamored by the way he kept staring at Riku expectantly when he invited Tidus back to his apartment again, except it was for a considerably different reason this time.
So because Riku associated Tidus with speed, he often confined his thoughts of him to short, short passages of events, not what exactly lead up to the events or how they ended up at the next one, but just a series of straightforward happenings.
Tidus had texted him the following day, after Sora had already left for home, and Riku was feeling his loneliness setting up camp in his heart again. Riku told himself it was a moment of weakness that had him replying to said text, a modest "can i c u?", with a short reply of "yeah." He almost let himself go back to that place he didn't really want to be, but at the same time, couldn't help but want to be, no matter how much he honestly loved Sora. Because Sora was romantically unavailable, and Tidus, well, was not.
It's not long after Tidus shows up that things are noticeably turning in a certain direction, the hand that reaches up and briefly plays with Riku's bangs and smooths them back behind his ear, isn't exactly a gesture one does between just friends. Riku put a stop to that pretty quickly.
Riku handled it all very calmly, Sora would've been proud of him, actually. He remained faithful to his word, because he really, really needed Sora to be able to trust him.
So he very calmly told Tidus about his situation, carefully explaining that Sora was always going to be a part of his life, and if they couldn't get along, Tidus wouldn't be a part of it. It was this moment where Tidus reminded him that it wasn't his fault, that none of it was his fault, because Sora was the one refusing to 'get along'. Then Riku told him about Sora and their compromise, after throughly defending Sora's less-than-friendly behavior, which wasn't easy when he didn't exactly fully understand it himself.
He anticipated every argument that Tidus could come up with, he anticipated every move the blond would make toward him, even the little confused frown furrowing his golden eyebrows. What Riku didn't anticipate, however, is how much Tidus would overreact. He didn't anticipate how much what he was saying would influence the suppressed anger Tidus was already feeling before he arrived, perhaps before they even met in the grocery store the other day.
"You're not seriously still seeing that psycho? He's married, Riku!"
"I know that." Riku managed to hiss, tasting the blood on his teeth. He touched his cheekbone, surprised that it wasn't split open from the force of the punch, briefly reminded of the taut biceps that were so sexy a couple nights ago. It would definitely bruise though. Tidus was indignant, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed. It was as if Riku's only abilities consisted of pissing people off, because that seemed to be all he was really good at lately. "And Sora's not a psycho."
"So, he's a slut then."
"Tidus." Riku growled, warning. It didn't matter how justified his anger was, Tidus had no right to say anything about Sora. Despite his baser instincts, a comment from Sienna reminded him to keep his temper under control, so Riku only clenched his fists and made no attempt to hit him back. He was the older one here, there had to be some level of civility.
It felt incredibly like the times they were little, and Riku, being the oldest and most mature, had to mediate some trivial quarrel between the kids because they just couldn't solve these things on their own.
Tidus huffed, unapologetic. He sat on the arm of the couch, all traces of the benevolent teenager he used to be buried under deep aggravation and resentment as he inspected his hand for a second, the knuckles scuffed, but otherwise unmarked. "You jackass." He scoffed. "He's just monopolizing you again. Just like when we were kids."
Riku glared. "Sora never did that."
"Uh, hello? Yeah, he did." Tidus shifted, picking at the loose fibers of the older couch, still angry. "That's why you never really got close to any of the other kids, 'cause he didn't want anybody near you. He didn't come right out and say it, but he made damn sure that boundary was there."
"Oh, fuck you, Tidus."
"Ya think I'm lying?" Tidus shot back, tearing a thread from the couch. ""Cause I have so many good reasons to." He discarded the thread on the floor, crossing his arms again. He stared pointedly at the forgotten string, mumbling under his breath.
Riku sighed, clearly fatigued already. He was tired of talking, his face hurt. Over all it was just a shitty weekend.
"What." It wasn't even a question, just a very tired, singularly spoken word.
Tidus met his eyes, digging his fingernails into his forearm. "You never even noticed me. Even before Sora."
"Okay?" Riku sighed again, heavier, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What do what from me? I wasn't even sure of myself back then. I didn't even know I was gay, how was I supposed to notice you?"
Tidus just shrugged, noncommittally, curtly raising his shoulders and dropping them again.
"Do you want me to apologize to you too?"
"Wouldn't hurt." Mumbling again.
"Fine. I'm sorry." Riku snorted. "While I'm at it, maybe I should apologize to Selphie for breaking her ankle last year. Or, maybe, I should tell Kairi I'm sorry she got knocked up in high school. Why stop at you?"
"Goddammit, you're a self-centered jackass." Tidus hissed, rising from the couch and collecting his jacket draped across the back. "Fuck this. I'm gone." He pushed past Riku, seamlessly unlocking the front door and pulling it open.
Riku moved a little faster than him though, reaching the door at just about the same time, and slamming it shut again with one outstretched hand. Tidus flinched, barely noticeable with the way his body trembled with obvious anger. He glared at his own hand on the doorknob and the fact that he couldn't open it with Riku holding it closed.
"I'm not stupid." Before Riku could tell him that he never thought that, Tidus interrupted him. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, 'cause I'm not."
"Okay." Riku said, finally. He leaned his body weight into his hand against the door and frowned, wondering if there was more they needed to talk about. Like the strange looks he kept giving him their first night together. "Are you alright?" He asked, bending his knees a little to catch his eyes still downcast at the space between the doorknob and the deadbolt.
Tidus' hand creased into fist and Riku readied himself to be swung at again, but it never happened.
"I have to go to class." He looked up, their eyes meeting for one pained second before Riku stepped back, allowing him to open the front door. And that was it. Tidus never said anything else, he just walked slowly to the end of the hall and disappeared down the stairs.
The door across the hall opened, a young mother sheltering her toddler son against her skirt while she locked up. Riku watched her for a long minute, unconsciously waiting until her and her little boy were safely down the stairs as well before he moved back inside his own apartment, closing his own door behind him. It wasn't such a weird habit, because sometimes he still got the urge to protect people who had no means to protect themselves, it just wasn't as pronounced as it used to be.
–
For Sora, it was never such an easy task to remember the dreams he had just woken up screaming and thrashing from. Most times, when he does remember, it's just images of endless darkness, something that could hardly be classified as actual dreams. Except in the background, he can hear his own breathing. More often than not, it's very quick and shallow, like it would be during one of his attacks, and as sad as it is, it's these kinds of dreams that frighten him the most. Way more than any visions of ink-black monsters with thick, reaching talons and outlandish weapons or other faceless creatures that screeched at him with wide, open mouths. It was just the stifling darkness that woke him in the middle of the night, grasping for nothing but a way out.
That, and Riku.
He dreamed about Riku often, almost as much as the darkness. He dreamed of past conversations, past arguments, even lying next him in bed. Also, there were dreams he was sure were supposed to stop once he wasn't teenager anymore, and those were embarrassing. Thankfully, that didn't happen too much. It was bad enough that Evann had woken him up once, just to see if he was okay because apparently he was making quite a lot of noise, only for both of them to discover that Sora's hand was wedged down the front of his night pants. Evann just laughed and told him that he did that a lot. Which was more embarrassing.
This was a darkness dream night. He knew this not because he could remember the nightmare, but because his body was painfully stiff, like he was stuck in quicksand and trying not to sink. He took a minute to catch his breath which was coming out in sharp pants that made his chest sore, another to clear his vision which was fuzzy and unused to the pitch blackness of midnight.
Sora lets his muscles relax gradually, one limb at a time. To his side, the bed was empty. Which meant Evann was either still at work or passed out on the couch downstairs. This happened frequently mainly because Sora tended to lash out when woken up. Any time Sora fell asleep before Evann got home, actually.
Sora sighed and stretched and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He straightened his sweatpants on his hips as he stood, crossing his arms over his bare chest. The house was oddly cold for August. The television flickered grayish-blue light on the fabric treated walls of the living room, a comfortably familiar silhouette slumped over on the couch.
It was hard not smile, seeing the older man curled up on the sofa, the TV remote hanging listlessly from his hand. Evann was always so concerned about Sora, he rarely thought about his own needs. Lightly padding around the coffee table, Sora found that he was still wearing the clothes he wore to work that morning, only his jacket and shoes were removed. His tie still hung around his neck, just loose enough to fall asleep. It couldn't be comfortable. And the couch didn't look much better. Unfortunately, that particular sofa wasn't so much functional as it was decorative for when company came over.
Sora lightly touched his gold bangs, brushing them back from his eyes. Evann breathed softly, shifting a little, his mouth turning down in a unconscious frown. Sora offhandedly wondered if he had nightmares of his own—he'd never asked before. Evann shifted again, curling his legs up on the couch beside him.
After a few seconds of indecision, Sora decided not to wake him, kneeling beside the couch instead. The television was just quiet enough to ignore, and if he laid his head on the cushion by Evann's chest, he could just barely make out his heartbeat.
"I'm sorry." Sora's voice is so small, he almost doesn't hear it himself, just a brief little crack of sound coming out of his own mouth. He touches his husband's fingers, specifically his ring finger, the gold and silver ring much like his own reflecting distorted versions of the pictures on the television in tiny, thin, curving lines.
Evann breathed in deeply, but didn't stir as Sora twined their fingers together, briefly touching his lips to the back of his hand. It's not fair that it has to be this way, that he has to suffer because Sora couldn't just be satisfied with a perfectly good man. And he is a good man, a very good man, and Sora doesn't deserve him. He has never been good enough for Evann.
Midnight creeps into 1 AM, and Sora eventually closes his eyes, holding his husband's hand and apologizing in his head until he was too exhausted to think of anything else he should be saying right now. It's weird when he falls asleep again because, for once, he doesn't dream anything at all.
–
It's the second time Riku has been at Sora's place except instead of going to the apartment, Riku parked his car across the street, and entered through the glass door on the first floor. The massage clinic was very much like the apartment, you know, in the way that it kinda looked like a page out of a magazine. It was very clean and open, simple paint on the walls, long benches in the waiting area. It's obvious someone hired a designer for both the apartment and the clinic.
It's funny, how strange it looked to see Sora actually working, like a real job. The only other job Riku remembered him having was a stock boy at a grocery store when he was seventeen. After that, he had no idea.
Sora smiled as he saw Riku entering, and there was totally a flutter in his chest, one that reminded him of awkward kisses back on the island and hand-holding under the table in chemistry class. Classic teenage hormones were notorious for making Riku grin for no reason, and laugh at the stupidest things. Sora always had that effect on him.
"Hey, you." Sora said as Riku approached the receptionist's desk, flipping through what looked like an appointment log.
"Hey." Riku leaned his elbows on the edge of the desk and kind of hovered over the appointment folder, pretending to be reading it as well. Sneaking his hand across the folder, Riku teasingly brushed his fingertips over his knuckles, slipping his fingers around his hand. They weren't technically dating yet, but that didn't mean Riku couldn't flirt with him occasionally.
Sora chewed his lip, suppressing a smile as he gently squeezed his hand in return. It was cute, really. A refreshing change from the Sora he was beginning to become used to now, the dark, dangerous, overly-sexual Sora, to more...nostalgic territory. Then his fingers slipped away, and Riku watched as Sora ducked behind the desk, already missing the warm sensation of his palm against his own.
He wanted more of this touching. It was kind of new, but old at the same time. Some hybrid of the two, that made him feel like he knew exactly what he was doing and, at the same time, like he was just an clumsy, experimenting teenager again. Watching Sora's touchably soft hair moving behind the desk, Riku briefly contemplated how easy it would be to scoop him up and drag him back to his car, without anyone noticing, of course. Couldn't be that hard. The clinic was deserted after all; must have just opened.
Sora stood up, finally, holding another folder this time. The computer in the middle of the round desk whirred to life, disrupting the comfortable silence of the empty room, save for the sounds of Sora's constant turning of pages. The monitor glowed dully and Riku stared in wonder, mildly surprised that the most technological inept person alive even knew how to turn it on.
Sora reached over his folder, inexpertly poking at the computer, which continued to whir and whine and make a whole pallet of noises as it booted up. He frowned abruptly, gripping the back of his neck and rolling his shoulders stiffly.
Riku opted a concerned raise of his eyebrow that Sora just happened to look at him at the right moment to catch, because he then smiled sheepishly, answering before Riku could even ask what was wrong.
"Must've slept weird." He explained vaguely, shrugging his shoulders again, still massaging the back of his neck. Riku nearly moved around the desk, offering to do it for him, but was distracted by the front door opening, a little gold bell chiming brightly as the door smacked against it.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry." Who Riku assumed to be the missing receptionist entered in a frenzy of hair and apologies, dumping her messenger bag on the desk top and scattering a few items across the mahogany surface. Riku couldn't help but think she was dressed a little inappropriately to be working anywhere that wasn't like a surf shop off the beach or a lifeguard, because essentially she wasn't wearing much more than a bathing suit and a handkerchief of a skirt.
"It's fine." Sora assured her automatically, dropping his hand from his neck, busying himself with flipping pages again. Riku offhandedly wondered if she was late often; Sora seemed resigned to the fact that she was always going to be late and there was really nothing to do about that.
The girl, who didn't really look much older than 19 or 20, fixed whatever she knocked over earlier, tossing her bag under the desk. Her eyes fleetingly regarded Riku's presence, her mouth parted slightly as if in mid-sentence before she returned her attention back to Sora, finally saying what she apparently opened her mouth for.
"You look awful." She commented, leaning close to his body like girls liked to do. Sora backed up a half an inch, still looking down. Sunlight filtered through his hair, making it that copper color again.
"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." It was weird, hearing Sora speak with such an authoritative voice, but as this girl was his employee; it was kind of expected. Still, it was really strange.
"Evann come home late again?" She asked knowingly, pulling up her chair, and rolling over to the computer. The girl pulled a elastic band from her wrist, tying up her long, blonde hair in a messy ponytail. Sora blinked, chewing his tongue. His gaze flickered up, catching Riku's eyes, who frowned, resting his chin in his hand. What was that look for?
"Yeah." Sora answered after a short sigh, tapping his fingers on the desk. The girl hummed, gently nudging his hip with her elbow. He offered her a small smile, one that was slightly fatigued, but warm with his usual good-natured attitude.
"Do you have an appointment, Good Sir?" It took Riku a long minute before he realized the blonde receptionist was talking to him, blinking dumbly. It wasn't totally his fault that he was distracted; he was just too busy watching Sora walking around.
"He's not a customer." Sora told her before Riku ever got the chance to say it himself, now across the room. He was moving one of the long benches, pulling it away from the wall. Riku momentarily thought about asking if he needed any help, but that was before the girl started talking to him again.
"Oh, so you're the friend?"
"Guess so." Riku muttered, crossing his arms in front of him. He was really getting tired of being referred to as the friend, the best friend. The painter. Annoyingly enough, he vaguely recalled referring to himself as the mistress on more than one occasion.
"The special friend?" The girl giggled, smiling teasingly. Riku raised an eyebrow, trying to figure what she meant by that exactly.
"Rikku." Sora scolded from somewhere behind them. Riku looked back as the girl huffed, twisting one thin braid from her hair around her fingers, the mess of wooden beads on the ends clacking together. Sora moved the other bench, like he was just straightening up things, giving no indication that he had even said anything.
"Oh relax, I was just talking about the picture." She explained, pointing out a small frame on the farthest part of the desk. Riku couldn't help but notice the gold nameplate, next to it. Rikku. That explained why it seemed like Sora was talking to him.
"Picture?" Oh, that picture. It was an old photo, one of just the two of them, Riku and Sora, taken on a road trip they had gone on after Sora graduated high school. Kairi was too busy becoming a mother to come along. Things were easier then, when Riku could just throw an arm around Sora's shoulders without thinking too much about what it meant to their relationship. Everything had to mean something now.
"He's so sensitive." Rikku murmured under her breath, winking. "You're such a babe magnet, Sora."
"Hush." Sora moved back behind the desk, glancing at his appointment log once more. Rikku wiggled in her seat, giggling. Admittedly, she was pretty cute, you know, for a girl.
"You wanna add to the love jar?" She asked, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a large plastic jar that, according to the label, once held Osment's Jumbo Cheddar Popcorn, now half-full of folded slips of paper. She plopped it right in the middle of the appointment log.
"Don't." Sora lunged forward, gracelessly clapping his hand over the top.
"You really are no fun." Rikku complained.
"What the hell is a love jar?" Riku inquired, now sufficiently curious. Some of those papers looked pretty thick, like whole multi-page letters. Sora made a face of obvious anguish, as if he could tell the woman at his side was fully prepared to give him the whole story, and she wouldn't feel the smallest bit of remorse about it.
"It's--"
"It's stupid." Sora interrupted, heading her off before she could say something possibly incriminating. Not like Sora would have anything to hide, really. "They're just notes. Comments and...concerns. That sort of thing."
"Love notes." Rikku told him, very matter-of-fact, jiggling the popcorn bucket so the notes rattled around inside, still muffled by Sora's hand.
"Really?" The look Riku was giving him had to be just fantastic, because Sora blushed, hard, yanking his hand away from the jar, suddenly trying to appear indifferent.
"Sora has a lot of stalkers." The woman elaborated a little too gleefully, shaking the jar again as if tempting Riku to read one.
"Not real ones." Sora declared immediately, waving his hands dismissively. Sounded kind of defensive to Riku. "They're admirers, at...worst."
Riku chuckled, seriously thinking about reading a few, just to see what they were dealing with here. "Admirers, huh? How cute."
"They're not cute." Evann had apparently descended the joint staircase that led from the apartment to the clinic just a few moments into their conversation, as usual, all angel blond hair and missing piercings and forearm tattoos. His smile was missing as well, in it's place, a very distinct frown and a cigarette. He had his hair combed back away from his face and was wearing a suit, clearly going to work.
"Oop." Rikku made a small noise of surprise, shrinking a little behind her computer as Evann approached the desk, his arm automatically wrapping around Sora's waist, pulling him to his body. Sora looked a little disoriented at first, eventually relaxing into the embrace after a long second.
Riku felt a unequivocal violence spit and hiss inside his chest, his pain and anger and frustration uncoiling and slithering around his heart. He tried hard to ignore it, leaning away from the desk at arm's length. He tried hard not to grit his teeth because he was being talked to.
"It's nice to see you again." Evann said, holding his cigarette between his fingers. Easy to see where Sora picked the habit up from.
"Yeah, same." Maybe it was just bitterness, because Evann clearly didn't like the topic, but Riku brought it up again, simply because he was curious. "So, why the jar?" Evann scowled a little, his familiar smile dropping slightly.
"We, um, had a problem a while back. A couple of my clients called the clinic a few times." Sora explained.
"They called all the time." Evann commented, his arm still firmly around Sora's waist. His fingers stroked short lines on his hip, a movement that unfortunately did not go unnoticed by Riku.
Sora glanced at him sideways, that look of anguish slowly coming back. "Anyway, the jar's kinda like a venue, I guess."
"For the boys to express their undying love for him." Rikku added needlessly. Sora blushed again. "Not that it's limited to boys."
"Fun." Riku smiled, prodding the jar with his arm, reading the paper taped to it, the words—obviously 'love jar' written in red marker. He wondered idly if the artwork around the words was the work of the bubbly receptionist.
Evann made an indignant sound of pure discontent, his arm tightening on Sora for almost ten complete seconds. Sora kissed him good-bye as it became clear that he couldn't stay much longer, and Riku suppressed the instant reaction in his stomach, the one that said, 'Protect your own'. It was this reaction that got Riku into a lot fist fights in high school, mostly when any member of the male gender dared to even talk to Sora.
Their hands lingered on each other's, Sora smiled a little, squeezing his fingers before he let go. Riku could've retched.
"Bye, Riku."
Riku only ceased his mental scowling long enough to realize he was being spoken to again. Evann then left through the front glass door, the bell chiming delicately as it was smacked carelessly just like earlier. But not before pausing briefly and adding his own contribution to the 'love jar'. Ashes from his cigarette.
"Jeez. What a dick." Riku muttered, waiting until he disappeared around the corner of the building towards the drive-way. Faintly, the sound of a car starting could be heard.
"Don't talk about him like that." Sora scolded, gathering up a couple of official-looking documents off the surface of the desk, tucking them under his arm. "He's in a bad mood."
"Obviously."
Sora rolled his eyes. He straightened his papers, pushing them under his arm again. It was like he didn't know what to do with himself. He'd been like that all morning, Riku noticed.
"Hey," Riku caught his arm as he finally tried to walk off, probably just to do something else useless and nervous. "Are you okay?"
Sora adjusted his papers for the fifteenth time, smiling faintly, looking downward. "Yes, I'm—I'm just tired." He kept his eyes down, only looking up when Riku brushed his hair back with his palm.
Out of the corner of his eye, Riku noticed the receptionist of the same title finding something very interesting about her blue-gray above-the-ankle high boots. Sora suddenly frowned, his blue eyes frantically scanning his profile. He firmly grabbed Riku's chin and turned his head, all in one smooth movement.
"What the hell happened to your face?" Sora fussed, his fingertips light and cool on his cheek. His mouth slightly open in a kind of dumbfounded expression really that was way too cute on him. He really had to stop doing that.
Riku lightly touched his bruised cheekbone, chuckling nervously. Guess he had to tell him. There was really no chance of hiding it now. "Tidus." Sora's concerned frown morphed into a warped scowl, stuck somewhere between caring and indifference. "I broke it off with him, the other day."
"So he hit you?" His voice was comical; the way he said it only made him sound like an angry mother who just found out her child was having his lunch money stolen every day at recess.
Riku shrugged, smiling, running his hand over Sora's hair again. "Relax, Sora. I think I can handle Tidus."
Then Sora pushed at his chest in this pathetic way of making him go away, but of course it doesn't really work. Riku only gently kissed his forehead, ignoring the less than quiet squeal from the desk behind them.
"Love you." He muttered under his breath, deeply breathing in every scent he could identify off of Sora that he was beginning to associate with the brunet in general. Soil and incense, plants and fruit shampoo. The lightest scent of cigarette smoke.
Sora shortly buried his face in his shoulder, mouthing the words against the fabric of Riku's shirt rather than saying it out loud. He then let out a tiny moan as the bell above the door chimed again, and he suddenly had clients to care for.
Riku sighed and let him go before anybody saw, not that he cared, but he had a distinct feeling Sora wouldn't appreciate it too much if anyone else knew about their not-so-little affair.
–
It's exactly two weeks and four days later that Sienna pays another visit to Riku's apartment. Usually, these visits consist of the woman bitching at him to get back to work because an artist's job is an evolving process and he can never truly be finished. After that, came some form of praise or insult, depending on how she felt that day, then finally, Riku acquired his income in the form of a check from the art gallery—the fees for the venue and the managerial expertise already deducted, of course.
Sienna gets the first two things out of the way with a quiet calm, but something is very different today, because when she finishes her bitching, she's practically thrumming with girlish excitement. The smile on her face more befitting on a woman Kairi's age.
"Congratulations, darling." Sienna beamed, speaking as calmly as she could manage as she handed over the check. Riku nearly choked on his cheap, dollar-store breakfast cereal, reading all fucking numbers on the slip of paper with wide eyes. "You are officially mainstream."
At some point, the woman actually grabbed him and kissed him on the mouth, but Riku found that the taste of lipstick was certainly better than the gritty aftertaste of cheap-ass breakfast cereal. Cheap-ass breakfast cereal that he would never have to eat again.
rsrsrsrs
I just realized something. I'm an empath writer or something like that. When my characters are angry, I'm angry; when they're sad, I feel depressed. It's kind of funny, I didn't realize it until someone asked me why I was glaring at my computer screen while I was writing all the argument scenes. Apparently, It looked like I immensely hated whatever I was looking at. Really, I was just thinking. Lol It's all just a part of the process.
Heh. I didn't mention it, but there was a totally obvious Fight Club reference in the last chapter. I couldn't help it, I was reading the book again, and it just made me laugh.
Ah, Rikku. I almost didn't put her in the chapter 'cause I thought it would be kinda confusing, but I really wanted to, so...I did. She's so my favorite. You guys aren't going to see her much, if at all again 'cause she was pretty much a cameo. I figured because she wasn't really a major part of the game (I mean, fairies, really?) that it would be alright for her to be Sora's receptionist.
As always, I'll try to get the next chap out soon...Radda Radda - bouncy