Chapter Text
Was there a word to describe it?
Langa's report card discussion went fine. It always went fine. Really, he could've probably gone to Reki's instead of talking to his mom anyways, because Langa's report card had never been something he had to talk about too much (unless his mother wanted to yap about how proud she was).
So then you asked, "well, why didn't Langa go?"
When Langa was a bit younger he'd always assumed that the day he fell in love, he'd want to be around that person he was in love with all of the time. But the truth was, he wasn't sure how long he could listen to Reki speak or watch him laugh at stupid jokes without punching a wall. All his emotions felt like explosions when Reki was around, and the only way to kill the sound was to curl up in his room (even then, he could only think about being close to Reki).
Langa picked up the book on his desk, the book full of skateboard designs that Reki had given to him. He very subtly pressed his lips to the cover. Why did he do that? It was likely gross and germy. But Langa needed to let his walls know that he was hopelessly in love with the boy who gave it to him.
He did that often – stupid, cheesy actions that made him look like he was acting for some movie. There was a sort of satisfaction in knowing he was in love (which was different from knowing he was in love with Reki, which filled him with a sense of dread and impending doom each time he thought about it).
There were various things scattered around his room that either reminded him of Reki or actually belonged to Reki: an empty chip bag on his nightstand from when they hung out last week, posters on the wall of skateboarders, a headband Reki had let him borrow on the floor, the small gay pride flag on his shelf (this one his mom had given to him when he first came out, but it was a constant reminder of his feelings), and Langa's skateboard.
Langa was reminded of Reki's reaction to seeing the pride flag every time he looked at it. It was a funny memory.
It was one of the first times Reki had come over, and when Langa had left to go to the bathroom, Reki had looked around. Langa remembered catching him staring at the flag as if he'd seen a ghost, and carefully asking him what was wrong (he laughed at this now, but at the time he'd been terrified Reki wouldn't be supportive of it). Reki had quietly asked "Is this why you never say yes to any of the girls that confess to you?", and it had been such a funny comment that they both broke out into a fit of giggles – so hard that there were tears in their eyes when they were finally able to breathe again.
That afternoon was a time to remember, because Reki had asked how Langa realized he was gay. He'd very subtly implied that he'd thought he had a crush on a dude before, and it made Langa's heart race multiple miles per hour. It still did – it meant Langa had a chance.
Unfortunately, Reki didn't seem to explore his sexuality too much. Well, if he did, Langa didn't notice. Langa did notice, though, that he seemed to be talking about girls more often in a sort of forced manner. Langa knew that behaviour all too well.
Dammit, looking at all these things that reminded him of Reki almost hurt. He wanted to be close to Reki, to do that weird thing where they sat back on Langa's bed and watched TV and cuddled (Langa never paid attention to whatever show they were watching when they did this).
Langa knew the whole cuddling thing was platonic. Probably. Reki would just run his hands through Langa's hair with Langa's head on his chest in a way that made the blue-haired boy question everything and think nothing all at the same time.
Lovesick. That was the word for missing someone like this.