Part 5

Monday dawned gray and rainy.

Riku supposed it was fitting, given his mood. He huddled under an umbrella as he walked from the parking lot to the school building, and pretended he didn't see or hear Sora calling out a from few steps behind him.

But he couldn't ignore the hand that wrapped around his arm a few steps from the door, cold and wet from the rain. "Riku, I was calling you!"

Riku took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I didn't hear you." Riku twisted out of Sora's grip. "Look, I'm sorry. About Saturday. Just forget about it." He gave Sora one last lingering look—he was frowning, his brow furrowed, his hair drooping from the rain, and it was cute, but it was obvious he was upset. Riku gave himself a mental kick and repeated, "I'm sorry." He turned back to the door, and when Sora tried to grab his arm again, he shook him off. "I have work to do," he muttered, without turning back to Sora.

If he gave Sora the cold shoulder, he would stop trying to be nice. Or so Riku hoped. He wasn't sure if he could handle Sora's friendliness when he'd practically forced himself on Sora. He certainly didn't deserve it.

Riku hid in his classroom for most of the day. It was easy to deal with students, to arrange numbers and graphs on the board, and answer questions. To fill the columns of his grade book. He knew Sora would be able to find him there, so perhaps it wasn't the best place to hide, but at least it was his space. He wondered if he could calculate the time it would take for him to forget the feeling of Sora's lips on his own—unwilling, and yet Riku couldn't help but like it, anyway, and he thought that probably made him an awful person.

But human thoughts and emotions were impossible to express in numbers. Guilt couldn't be quantified, and Sora's kindness might not be a continuous function.

And yet, Sora was still predictable, appearing at his door shortly after the commotion of students leaving for the day had subsided. Riku had half-expected it, and yet he was unprepared. He was caught between the thrill of butterflies and the lump of guilt, both vying for attention, and he couldn't suppress a sigh.

"Riku?"

Riku stood up, packing his bag. "I was just leaving."

"Riku, can I just talk to you?"

Riku focused on collecting his jacket and umbrella. "There's nothing to talk about." He shouldered his bag. "You don't have to keep being nice to me." He stepped toward the door, intending to brush past Sora, but Sora blocked his path.

Sora sighed in exasperation. "Will you just listen to me!"

The force in Sora's voice, more than anything, caught Riku's attention, and he finally looked at Sora. He was frowning, his arms crossed, and Riku wondered if Sora was actually more irritated with him than he'd thought. Sora was smaller than him, but he held himself in a way that spoke of power and confidence. It was a quality he liked about Sora, a contrast to his own wavering confidence.

"You keep apologizing, trying to brush off what happened, but I can't do that."

Riku froze, and he felt his stomach drop. Had he overestimated Sora's nature? "I—" He tightened his grip on his bag. "Then—"

"No," Sora shook his head, "I should be the one apologizing."

Riku blinked.

Sora turned his eyes to the ground. "I should've followed you to make sure you were alright."

Riku stared. "As you see, I'm fine."

"Are you?" Sora peered up at him through his eyelashes, and Riku felt it like a stab in his heart.

"I…" But he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He was sure his grip on his bag was white-knuckled by now, his face red with embarrassment. He looked away, avoiding Sora's gaze.

Sora's voice softened. "I wasn't expecting it."

Riku shifted his weight. "I didn't mean to." Well, that wasn't quite right. "You were right. I had too much to drink."

"When I said that…" Sora's voice trailed off, and he scuffed a foot on the floor. "When I said that," and this time his voice was stronger, "I meant myself." Riku's eyes snapped up at that, and was caught in an intense stare. His heart stuttered.

No. No, Sora wasn't saying what Riku hoped he was saying. That look didn't mean what Riku hoped it meant. Sora just meant that he'd been confused because he was intoxicated. Riku sighed in resignation. "Sora, stop." Stop making me have hope.

Sora brought a hand up and ran it through his hair, dropping his gaze. "I guess…you know, I'm really bad at this. But I wasn't sure, you know? If you were…" Sora pursed his lips. "I guess I should've made myself clear that it was supposed to be a date."

"Then why did you push me away?" It came out so quickly that Riku couldn't stop the heat in his voice. Hurt, and anger, rushing to the surface as the words Sora said gained meaning.

Sora flinched, perhaps surprised by Riku's response. "That's why I wanted to apologize. For pushing you away like that. I just—I've had bad experiences in the past, with alcohol. I didn't want to do anything either of us might regret."

Sora fidgeted as Riku gave him a measuring look. Was he really hearing this? Sora's expression was open, earnest. Perhaps a bit nervous, under Riku's scrutiny. Riku thought, for a moment, what something they might regret could be, a thought that made him bite his lip.

"So, I'm sorry. Do you think you could give me another chance?"

Riku's mind was racing. If it had been a date…if it had been a date, it had been perfect, up until Sora had pushed him away. He didn't want to do that again. "No."

Sora's lips drew up in a pout, and Riku stared at them, remembered the texture of them against his own lips.

"No, I mean—" He had to be sure, this time. "You don't need a another—I just want to kiss you!" Riku closed his mouth and took a step back at his own audacity.

"Oh." Sora broke into a grin. "Well, I'd be happy to let you, this time." He followed Riku's retreat, closing the distance between them until he could take Riku's free hand. "But you know," he mused, "I still want to have a proper date with you."

Riku's pulse was racing, and he was drowning in blue eyes. "I—yeah." He let Sora draw him closer, until all he had to do was incline his head to meet those lips. They were soft and warm and silky, and he could feel Sora's breath coming as fast as his own. Sora had initiated the kiss, this time, but Riku still was afraid he'd pull away, so he wrapped his arm around Sora's waist, bag still in hand, holding him there.

But Sora was already deepening the kiss on his own, and Riku wondered if he was dreaming this.

A knock at the door—still ajar—startled them apart, and Riku decided it wasn't a dream, if Aqua's raised eyebrows were any indication.

"When people say 'Get a room,' the usually don't mean a classroom," Aqua said pointedly. "I won't say anything, but next time remember where you are."

Riku was too flustered to respond, but Sora was giving Aqua a big grin. "Yes, ma'am!"