Chapter Text
Riku wonders absently, in the back of his mind, if he will ever tell Sora that he’s in love with him. He’s watching him tell a story to their whole table of friends, and he’s so sure he’s so painfully obvious but he’s also certain Sora doesn’t know. His face is animated, and he laughs easily, smiles easily, hands making sweeping gestures to convey things, and Riku loves him.
Then reality comes crashing down on him, as it does whenever his mind drifts off like this, and he reminds himself forcefully that Sora probably does know about his feelings, no thanks to how obvious he most likely is, and is probably just being nice to him by not cutting him completely out of his life. Or… something along those lines. Of course, Sora would never do something like that, he’s way too… how he is, but-- the point is Riku loves Sora and Sora doesn’t love Riku.
And that’s how it’ll always be.
Sora finishes the story and elbows Riku good-naturedly while everyone else at the table splits up into separate conversations.
“You were zoning out during my story, huh?”
Riku shakes his head. “No. I was paying very close attention.” It’s not a lie, per se, he’s just not forthright with what he was paying attention to.
“No joke,” Sora checks, eyebrow raised.
“No joke!” Riku repeats, hands raised to convey his innocence.
Accepting his half-truth, Sora knocks their shoulders together easily, grinning up at him, and Riku is weak for that smile. Just then, the bell rings, and everyone packs up; Sora, Riku, and Naminé all walk towards the same class. When they get there, Naminé heading towards the back of the class since she likes to draw and doesn’t want to disturb anyone else, there’s a girl Riku’s never seen talking with their teacher.
“Look, there’s a new student, it’s gotta be,” Sora says, all too gleefully, pressing himself close to Riku’s ear to relay the news. The new student in question stands, looking vaguely nervous, at the front of the classroom, her black hair cropped short to just underneath her ears. She has a black hoodie on, paired with unassuming jeans and black Vans. If Riku squints, he thinks he can see a silver chain tucked underneath her hoodie; she apparently takes fashion cues from Sora, Riku thinks, looking at the silver crown necklace dangling from his neck. Before he can make a guess as to what charm is on it, their teacher calls the class to attention, Sora slipping back into his seat next to Riku like he was always there.
The teacher nods at the girl, and she says, “Hi, I’m Xion. It’s nice to meet you all. Um, I just moved here from Twilight Town.” Xion gives a tiny wave, smiling slightly, then puts her hand back into the pocket of her hoodie.
After that, class progresses normally; Xion is given a desk near the front, and Riku can tell Sora’s upset their teacher didn’t choose the empty seat in front of him so he could introduce himself as soon as humanly possible. As soon as class is over, though, he grabs Riku’s hand and catches Xion’s attention as she’s putting her things in her bag, marching them over.
“Hi, Xion!” Sora starts cheerfully, and she gives a shy smile. “My name’s Sora and this is Riku!” Sora bumps their shoulders together, grinning at Riku, and maybe he’d be introducing himself if he wasn’t so focused on the fact that Sora hadn’t let go of his hand. He does so, covering it up as if he’s just waving to Xion, but doesn’t go back to take Sora’s hand in his.
He steadfastly ignores how cold his hand feels without Sora’s and how nice it had felt to have his hand in-- ugh.
“Hi, Xion,” he greets. “It’s nice to meet you. Sora and I would be happy to help you out if you need help getting around anywhere or for anything else, and our friends definitely would too.”
It’s then that Naminé appears at Riku’s shoulder; she always spends extra time packing away her sketchbook and art supplies. “Hello,” she says, smiling warmly. “I’m Naminé.”
Xion turns to look at her and instantly blushes, face red, and she fiddles with the chain of her necklace (Riku sees now the charm is a seashell), a nervous tell. “Um,” she says; a solid first impression as any. “I’m Xion.”
It’s silent for a second before she winces. “You probably knew that already.”
Her blush deepens as Naminé laughs and Sora turns to Riku, eyes all but sparkling with joy, and Riku knows that look. Sora takes his hand again, and tells the two girls, “Bye! We have to get to our next class or we’ll be late!” He waves, with the hand that’s not holding Riku’s, and promptly drags his best friend out of the classroom and into the hall.
“Riku,” Sora says, with finality, “Xion and Naminé are in love and it is beautiful and wonderful.” His eyes are shining; Riku feels as if he could probably start crying if he thinks about it long enough.
In response, Riku slips his hand again out of Sora’s and quirks his lips up. “Okay, you may be right about that,” he says, teasing, “but we really do need to get to class.”
He watches for Sora’s smile, a flash of blinding sunshine and optimism, and Riku can barely control his own blush.
He’s fucked.
A few weeks pass with Xion slowly assimilating her way into their ragtag group of friends. At their first meeting, she and Kairi take to each other remarkably fast, finding out they have a lot in common. The rest of their friends stand in the background as the two girls talk each other’s ears off, still waiting for their turn to introduce themselves.
Naminé, standing a little behind Xion, laughs silently into her hand at their pain, no cruelty to it.
---
They talk pretty frequently, Naminé and Xion. It seems like whenever Xion’s not with Sora and Riku, she’s with Naminé, a fact that Sora brings up frequently to Riku, shouting that his matchmaking is absolutely going to pay off. Riku can’t help but love his enthusiasm, and he’ll concede that the two do, at the very least, enjoy each other’s company.
During one of the times Xion is walking home with Sora and Riku rather than Naminé, she unwittingly changes everything.
“You know,” she says with confidence, a stark contrast to their first meeting, “I just… wanted to say thanks. You guys really helped me out when I first moved here. It was hard adjusting, being away from my friends back in Twilight Town, and you guys were really nice, introducing me to all of your friends. I really appreciate it.”
Sora shrugs, but there’s a smile on his face. “It’s no big deal. I’m really glad Riku and I could help you out like that and introduce you to people,” he says, voice pointed. He levels Xion with a glare, and she blushes furiously.
“All right, all right,” she says. “So I’m also really glad you introduced me to Naminé specifically, okay.” Her voice turns serious again. “I, um… I just really wanted to say that that was also something that really meant a lot to me. Back home, it was a lot less… open than here. Seeing that you guys can be so open about your relationship, and your friends about who they are, was really inspiring to me. I guess I just want to say… even for that, thank you.”
Oh no. “Oh no,” Riku says out loud. Possibly too loud. There is a white-hot streak of panic running through him. “We’re not--”
“--going to take any thanks for that!” Sora says quickly. “No thanks for that, no ma’am. That would be… wrong of us, the two of us who are in a relationship and dating.”
Turning to Sora with a desperate stare, Riku communicates with his eyes a frantic What are you doing?
Sora’s eye-response comes back a wailed I have no idea! Just go with it!
“You guys even finish each other’s sentences,” Xion notes, voice laced with fondness. Riku wants to scream.
Their usual walk back to Sora’s house after taking Xion to hers isn’t awkward, per se, in the way that their interactions are never awkward, but it’s certainly tense, neither of them speaking.
It’s not the comfortable sort of silence they usually have with each other, either. It’s almost tangible.
Riku’s mouth is twisted in a hard line, stiff with the realization that a dynamic that he’d never expected in their relationship would be so suddenly introduced in it. He’d just wanted to shutter away his feelings as long as he possibly could, but this throws a big wrench into that plan. Most of all, he’s terrified Sora will somehow figure out that Riku’s in love with him, and he absolutely cannot let that happen. He’s kept it a secret for this long. If it gets out, he’s just waiting to be cast out of Sora’s life, and that’s the worst thing that could ever happen.
“Okay, Sora, what the hell was that?” Riku accuses as soon as they’re safe in Sora’s room, arms crossed.
Sora at least has the good sense to look sheepish, throwing his arms up in frustration as he plops onto his bed. “I don’t know, Riku! I just… didn’t want to let her down after she gave us that talk about how we inspired her! It meant way too much to her to just let her down like that! I’m sorry, okay? I panicked!”
Riku sighs, takes a seat next to Sora. He’s never been able to stay mad at him for long. “I know. If I hadn’t said something by instinct first I probably wouldn’t have been able to break it to her, either. I’m sorry for snapping, I was just…”
Just getting mad at myself for getting my hopes up that you could possibly feel the same way, hating myself for feeling this way about you, etcetera, his mind supplies drily.
“...shocked,” he settles on after a beat. Inwardly, he scoffs. Shocked is a vast understatement and he knows it.
“So we’re okay then?” Sora asks, timid like he never is. He gets an audible snort out of Riku for that.
“Come on, you’d have to do more than that to get me out of the picture,” he says, and hates how even he can hear how overly fond he is in his voice.
He can feel the smile being pressed into his side as Sora wraps his arms around him. They stay like that for a while, before Sora sits up abruptly, his hands propping him up on Riku’s knee. Their faces are in remarkably close proximity, and Riku leans minutely back, reminding himself Sora does not and will not ever want to kiss him despite how much he’s thinking about it.
“Riku,” he says, and his tone is dangerous. “I think we should… fake date around school to convince Xion that we really are together. We both know we don’t want to let her down.”
“I feel mildly cornered into this,” Riku says, mildly, raising his eyebrows a mild amount. He’s a decidedly picture-perfect example of the nonchalance that he is not feeling mentally, where several red flags are raised and many alarms are blaring.
In response, Sora raises his eyebrows at him, facing him with those big blue eyes. Riku can never say no to him when he looks at him like that, like he trusts him to make the right decision but will support him either way. It’s really never much of a question with Sora.
“Fine,” he grouses out, and that is how Riku ends up fake-dating his best friend.
---
Riku would have thought someone who thought about dating Sora as much as he did would have known what to, you know, actually do when he was dating Sora.
Fake-dating. He’s fake-dating Sora, he reminds himself. Don’t get your hopes up.
Right now, before he gets Sora from his house so they can walk to school, it’s not going too hot. It’s day one, and he’s already feeling like he can’t go through with this.
Riku exhales, hands held behind his back to hide how they’re shaking. He can’t stop picking at his nails in his nervousness. Maybe doing this wasn’t a good idea. Well, he rebukes, of course it wasn’t a good idea, but he’s feeling like he wants to quit already.
“What’s this!” Sora shouts from his front door, excitedly slamming it shut and running up to his gate in the exact span of time it takes Riku to gather his strength enough to bring a shaking hand up to the gate in the first place. “My wonderful Prince Charming, come to pick up his love and walk him to school?” He’s grinning so wholeheartedly, and it’s maybe a little bit infectious, but Riku’s also so afraid of fucking up and saying something obvious or like, super fucking weird.
“Sora,” Riku mumbles, killing the joke before it can begin, “we do this every day and you know it.” Internally, he’s upset he couldn’t just let himself do this one thing for Sora and continue on with the joke, but what if he fucked something up? There were way too many variables to consider.
Sora ignores the definitive death of the joke, saying, “Hi” like he can’t hold it in any longer, looking up at him as if he really is in love with him, and Riku’s honestly a little taken aback at the unabashed affection he sees in his eyes. I mean, he’d always thought Sora was a bad liar, but this is… he must’ve picked up the ability to lie somewhere; he’s really convincing. He’s looking up at him, leaning on his fence, blinking up through his ridiculously long, beautiful eyelashes (Riku represses a whimper), just looking, and somehow Sora has learned to act.
Riku tells him as much, opening the gate so Sora can fall into step beside him.
“What?” he gets in response, then a few seconds of quiet. “Oh… oh! Ha. I dunno. I guess I’ve picked up a few tricks. Guess I’m better at… at lying than even you thought I was.”
All Riku does is shrug, but mentally the cogs in his brain are turning. He has no idea how Sora could suddenly start lying to people. It was never exclusively a bad acting type of thing (even though that was definitely a huge part of it); Sora also just really hated being untruthful to people. Maybe he got over it. The thought leaves a bad taste in Riku’s mouth, but he ignores it in favor of bumping their shoulders together and letting Sora take his hand in his.
When he does that, Riku tenses up, but Sora takes it as an isolated incident rather than his constant, pervasive anxiety and gives him a pseudo stone-cold look.
He knows it’s coming. He knows it is, but oh boy is it gonna suck when it comes.
“Riku, we’re gonna have to practice this” -- he waves the hand that’s not holding Riku’s vaguely -- “if we’re going to be convincing.”
How can Sora be so matter-of-fact about this? he asks himself, and his self-loathing reminds him smugly that it’s because he doesn’t have feelings for him at all and is looking at the situation objectively.
Thanks for the reminder, Riku tells that part of him. He shakes himself out of it, though, and says to Sora, “Honestly, I don’t… think I’ll have any problem with it.”
Sora faces him, a question on his face; to avoid it, Riku breaks in with a, “Is that weird?”
He knows it is. What the fuck. What the fuck. Why the hell did he say that, of all things to say. He could’ve said literally anything, and yet he said the absolute most transparent thing he could’ve possibly--
“No.” Sora cuts through his internal monologue with one word, grinning at him. “It’s not weird at all.”
It’s hard to not smile back when Sora’s grinning at him like that, and he gives in, smiling all the way to school as they talk about pointless nothings.
They’re about to split up for their respective first classes of the day. Aside from the hand-holding, everything’s been going pretty normally. Riku’s turning to say goodbye to Sora when he says, “Um, I…” and Riku stops, facing him inquisitively.
He’s blushing, and Sora hardly ever stutters. “Um, I don’t think it’ll be hard for me either.”
And then, casual as anything, he kisses Riku’s cheek, standing on his toes, and takes his hand from his, lingering like he doesn’t want to let go at all. Like he hadn’t just changed the fabric of the universe or anything, he gives Riku a little wave, still blushing, and disappears into his classroom.
He’s too good at this, it’s scary. Riku’s left standing dumbfounded in the hallway for another few seconds before he comes to his senses.
The whole class, all he can think about is that maybe it will be a problem. He’d completely forgotten kissing was a part of the equation here. Hand-holding he can do, maybe, if he weren’t so deathly afraid that Sora would think his sweaty palms from his anxiety was weird-- okay. Maybe hand-holding is a problem, too. And kissing. Kissing on the cheek is okay, Riku guesses, but what if he does something embarrassing or like, misses his mouth. And other people seeing, making comments about them… ugh. He’s pretty sure his face is tomato red the whole class through, just thinking about all of the aspects this wake-up call gives him to consider.
He admits, he picks at his nails the whole time, in his anxiousness. A few of them are bleeding by the time he’s out, and he has to shuffle away to a bathroom and wash the blood away, ashamed.
---
They’ve been fake-dating for a grand total of three days when Sora drops another bomb on him. They haven’t even announced that they’re “dating” or anything, they’ve just been like, holding hands and sitting closer than before, which is fine? Riku’s dealing with it, at any rate.
The bomb Sora drops honestly feels more like a nuke because he chooses to do it in public, and more so than that, he chooses to do it while sitting with their entire table of friends.
“Uh,” Riku responds to Sora’s pointed question. “Why-- why don’t I what? Ever initiate? Was that what you…” Riku’s panicking; he swallows. “Was that what you said?”
He’s sure his friends are looking at him with pity, or at least sadness, and his eyes jolt around the table to gauge their expressions. Is anyone at least surprised about their relationship? No one’s saying anything. Before he can focus on anyone, though, Sora’s voice interrupts his thoughts again.
“Yes. It was.” Riku’s eyes snap back to Sora’s. “Why am I always the one to hold your hand, or kiss you first? I have no idea how you were the one to confess to me, honestly.”
“Wh-- I--” Riku stutters, voice wobbling pathetically. He has no idea what to say, no idea what to do. They hadn’t even settled on a story for how they’d gotten together.
It’s been three days since they started doing this.
“Trouble in paradise, I see,” Tidus mutters darkly. He can hear answering laughter.
No. No no no. They already don’t believe their lie. This is all Riku’s fault, he should’ve been doing a better job--
“Sorry?” he’s able to get out. It wasn’t meant to be a question. Why can’t he do anything right, what the fuck.
Sora gets up, taking Riku’s shaking hand in his. It feels like a bad omen now that he’s aware he should be taking Sora’s hand first, or. Whatever he wants to ensure that they have a believable fake-relationship. “We’ll be back soon, guys.” Riku can’t even turn around to look at them.
Once they’re a proper distance away and also coincidentally hiding behind a building, Sora gives him a winning smile. “Well?” he says. “How was that for a hey-guys-we’re-dating announcement?”
The haze of panic in Riku’s mind worsens, and he swears, pulling his hand away from Sora’s. “That was… that was just how we let everyone know?” Riku croaks out, dragging his shaking hands down his face. His voice is still wavering. He’s calming down, slowly, now that he’s away from the situation, but what the fuck.
“Yeah!” Sora exclaims, excited. “How’d it work? I think it was pretty believable. You’re good at acting anxious, y’know.”
Normally, when Riku’s going through a panic attack, his brain feels like it’s on an unproductive loop of fear. If he had to characterize it, he’d describe angry, red lines of electricity running throughout his body. His body shakes and sweats and he can’t help but pick at his nails and-- overall, it’s an overwhelmingly pleasant experience.
Right now, though, he feels deadly calm, even though he’s still trembling, still feeling the physical effects.
He says, “I wasn’t acting,” and takes his still-trembling hands from his face to look Sora in the eye, repeats himself to really get the point across. Normally, Riku would just pretend that everything was fine, but here he is, having a fucking panic attack over something he definitely did not need to have one over. Sora needs to know what he did wasn’t… okay. “Sora, I wasn’t acting.”
“Oh. Oh. Oh, fuck, Riku, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think-- I don’t know what I thought, I wasn’t thinking at all, probably.”
Riku’s quiet.
“Riku, tell me you’re fine, you’re okay, everything’s good,” Sora pleads. He’s babbling in his distress. “I’m really sorry, I promise I’ll think more in the future and this’ll never happen aga--”
“Quit rambling,” Riku says, almost as a reflex. Sora looks at him, eyes shining with emotion. “I’m fine.”
Wrapping his arms around Riku, Sora lets out a sigh into his chest. “I’m sorry,” he says again, muffled.
“It’s okay,” Riku murmurs, like saying it will make it true.
Despite what happened afterward, Riku takes Sora’s words about initiating to heart and starts holding his hand in the halls and at lunch without prompting. Each and every time, he feels overwhelming anxiety about it-- fear that he’ll overstep his boundaries, fear that he’s making his feelings obvious, fear that this time will be the time that Sora turns to him and tells him he’s disgusting and doesn’t even want him touching him-- but each and every time, Sora smiles at him.
Each and every time, Sora looks happy that he’s doing it.
So, even though the anxiety is still and will always be, for however long they do this, tough to overcome, he forces himself to go through with it. He matches Sora’s easy hand-holding, slings an arm around his shoulders or his waist at lunch, presses kisses to his cheek when he feels it’s right, hides smiles in his neck-- hell, Riku thinks he’s doing a good job of being a fantastic fake-boyfriend. He’s very much not thinking about how natural it is to play that role, but.
Riku thinks maybe he’s a little stiff with it all; he knows his anxiety kind of gets in the way of his acting and he’s a bad liar in the first place, but he’s doing his best, even if constantly being put in anxiety-inducing situations is minutely taking its toll on him.
Naminé corners him in the hall one day, though, when Riku’s sure everyone believes them and he’s desperately trying to convince himself he’s doing okay about the whole thing, that it’s not slowly messing up his head.
“Riku.” Her voice is pointed.
He freezes, turns around to face her slowly. “Yeah?” he says, feigning nonchalance.
They move to an empty classroom when she inclines her head in its direction, but she still speaks softly in that considerate way that only Naminé (and Sora, of course) will ever accomplish. “How have you been?”
It’s not what she actually intends to ask him, he knows, so Riku says shortly, “Fine.”
Naminé sighs, clasping her hands together. “I know you and Sora aren’t actually dating.”
Deflating, Riku’s voice comes out harsher than he intended. “How the hell did you find out?” He flinches, looks up at Naminé to gauge her reaction. “Sorry,” he tries, picking at a nail, and she shakes her head the barest amount.
“Riku, I know you,” she starts. “And I know Sora. And I know you and I suffer from some of the same mental health problems.” Her voice gets softer, sadder. Riku clenches his fist, ignores the blood coming from the nail he’d been abusing. “What I’m trying to say is that because I know you, and because I know some of what you’re going through, this isn’t how you’d be when you and Sora got together. I know it’s a long time coming, I know you both deserve each other, I know you both love each other, but… this isn’t genuine.”
He puts up a weak resistance, unable to look at her face. “What do you know?”
She’s thought about this; her response is too collected for her not to have. “You once told me about a year ago that you’d find it really hard to initiate anything with Sora if something were to happen between you two. How were you the one to confess, as he’s been saying? And, Riku, I don’t know, there’s this…” She pauses, makes an aborted gesture with a hand like she can’t quite articulate what she’s thinking. “Look in your eyes? I think you’re slowly getting more nervous to touch Sora, not the other way around.”
“How do you know we didn’t talk my problems out and I’ve gotten better?”
“Riku.” Her voice sounds infinitely more mournful, laced with emotion, and Riku hates himself. He can hear the unspoken plea to just tell the truth, and he just can’t do it. He hates himself.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, standing up and swiping the back of his hand across his eyes. “Sorry.”
Naminé sits in the empty classroom, and she lets him go.
The entire time they’re walking home from school that day, just him and Sora this time, Riku’s brain is stuck on a loop of why is he still holding my hand, why is he still holding my hand, it’s not like anyone at school can see us, why is he still holding my hand. He’s still jumpy from his earlier confrontation with Naminé, and this isn’t doing him any favors.
His perfectly valid questions never get answered. He’s stuck thinking the entire time that maybe Sora just forgot. He does that sometimes. People forget things all the time. It’s fine. This is fine.
They stop at his front door, taking their hands away from each other; there’s a brief, stunted silence. “Wanna come over?” Sora asks to break it.
Usually, he never has to ask.
Riku lies through his teeth, even though he’s not proud to admit it. “Sorry, my mom wanted me home to help around the house today.” He just… needs a break.
He needs a break from the pretending, the anxiety, the hating himself-- all of it. Riku doesn’t think he can ever name a time he actively wanted to be away from Sora, but, he thinks bitterly, there’s a first for everything.
Usually, he doesn’t lie; usually, he just goes over to Sora’s, finding himself there almost all the time, or Sora at Riku’s. Doing their own things in each other’s presence keeps them grounded.
“Oh,” Sora says. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats, and leans up on his tiptoes to kiss Riku’s cheek. It feels like it’s happening in slow motion, but he can’t (doesn’t?) do anything to stop it.
Riku’s brain can’t quite catch up with the action. They’re completely alone. “Uh?” he’s able to get out; his thoughts aren’t much more coherent anyway.
“Oh, shit, sorry!” Sora says, stepping away from Riku. “I just--” A pause. Then, weakly: “Guess we might as well be actually dating, huh?” It’s maybe an effort to lighten the mood, but unlike this time, Sora’s normally pretty good at that.
That’s painful, what the fuck. He knows he’s overreacting, but… fuck. Outwardly, all he does is nod and mumble a, “Yeah, huh?” He even manages a laugh, but it comes out like a bark, hollow and painful.
Sora seems to know something’s changed, if his quick retreat is anything to go by. “Bye, Riku. See you tomorrow.” He looks back at him as Riku stumbles away, unseeing.
He’s left alone with his mind all the way home. The entire time, his thoughts are a whirlwind between thinking that Sora might possibly like him back if that accidental kiss was any indication, anxiety over that possibility, self-deprecation that that will never happen, wanting to die to avoid all of this, and just plain confusion over everything. It’s… a mess. He’s a mess.
When he gets home, he shoves his face into a pillow and stays there until he’s forced to move by his mom, feeling his brain beat himself down about everything, all of this, not knowing how much time has passed.
She does end up making him help around the house, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about lying.
---
“Hey, Riku,” Kairi says during lunch on an otherwise uneventful day. Sora’s in the library cramming for a test, and it’s… kind of strange without him. It’s not as if he isn’t usually always with Sora, but now he feels as if his absence is more tangible. Almost like he’s doing something wrong by not constantly proving their fake relationship to everyone by making exaggerated gestures of affection.
“Yeah?” he asks. Everyone else at their table talks between themselves, giving Riku at least a little bit of much-desired privacy, if he has any idea where this conversation is heading.
She claps her hands together, a blunt start to a conversation Riku’s slightly afraid of. “How did you and Sora finally get together, by the way? I thought you guys had been dating for years, by now.”
Ah. Yeah. That. Riku knew it was coming and even with that, couldn’t prepare for the slight panic he feels in the back of his mind.
“Uh,” he starts, picking at his already horridly picked-at nails under the table. Stop it, he tells himself. They’re going to bleed again.
He tears a long strip of skin off and winces.
“Well, uh. Sora already told you I was the one to say something first, right?”
A nod. Kairi looks like she’s on the edge of her seat, waiting for more. Riku’s going to have to use his imagination for the next part, and he absentmindedly holds his finger to staunch the bleeding.
“Well, I, um. This feels weird to say out loud, but I’ve been in love with Sora since we were kids,” Riku says, testing the waters. Kairi gives him a fond look, and, emboldened, he continues, “And I don’t know, it was just... hard. For that long, not telling him or anything. Because you know my, um… my self-esteem isn’t that great. And it was just really hard on me, keeping that a secret, letting myself never believe that it could happen because I…” It’s a little hard to admit, and he waves the hand that is not very conspicuously bleeding. “Well, you know.” He looks away, avoiding Kairi’s eyes. “So one day it just kind of… slipped out.
And, uh, here we are,” he finishes lamely, still not looking at her.
When he doesn’t hear a response, he looks up and Kairi’s pretending to nod off. He pokes her, to appease her joke, and she mock-jumps awake.
“Boring,” is the first thing she says, and, startled, Riku lets out a loud laugh. “It took you guys forever but it happened like that? Where’s the excitement?”
Honestly, he appreciates Kairi’s reaction. She knows he doesn’t particularly want to talk about his issues and is instead deflecting the attention back towards her. He doesn’t know how exactly to thank her, so he gives her a small, genuine smile. She returns it, maybe a little sadly, but neither of them mention it.
“Wait. Did you say years?” he asks, blinking, and she laughs, the mood shifting. She shakes her head, pleading non-answer, and Riku frowns, but drops it.
It’s not until then that he realizes that nothing he told Kairi was a lie, not by any stretch of the imagination, and his blood runs cold. She had just accepted it. Maybe he’s better at lying than he thought.
(He doesn’t want to think that, simply, she had always known his feelings, and her comment about thinking they had been dating for years was truthful.)
Near the end of lunch, Sora comes rushing back from the library in a flurry of papers, plopping himself down next to Riku and kissing his cheek in greeting.
“I just got done studying,” he groans, facing Riku. “Anything I miss?” When he turns to the rest of the table, Kairi shakes her head, winking at Riku as Xion catches the newcomer’s attention.
“Now that you’re back and everyone’s here,” she says with an excited grin, leaning into the center of the table so everyone can hear, “Naminé and I wanted to invite everyone to a beach night to celebrate the semester ending. We’ll have a big bonfire and burn homework, the whole nine yards.”
Leaning forward, too, Naminé’s eyes catch Riku’s and she adds, “This semester has been hard on us so far, so we wanted to organize something for us to relax.” Riku wants so desperately to pick at his nails from the spike of anxiety he got from the look, but it’s almost as if Sora knows, and he takes Riku’s hand wordlessly, running his thumb over his knuckles.
She looks away from Riku, eyes sweeping across the whole table. “I know it’s pretty far in advance, but it’s something we can look forward to.”
Riku clears his throat, ducking his head in embarrassment even though he knows Naminé will want him specifically to speak. Because Sora and his hands are intertwined underneath the table, he holds them up to support his words. “We’re in. That’s a great idea. Thanks, guys.” Two birds with one stone, he figures. Show everyone that they are very much dating, and thank Naminé.
Sora laughs at the corny action, but when Riku mumbles into his ear to ask him why he didn’t put their hands up above in the first place to show everyone quicker, he clams up pretty quick, shrugging and not meeting his eyes.
“So, Xion, you and Naminé have been hanging out a lot, right?” Sora asks, deflecting Riku’s attention away from him as the rest of their friends dissolve into separate groups of shouted excitement.
“A-ah, uh, yeah, I guess so,” Xion replies, playing with the seashell charm on her necklace as her face slowly gets redder. Naminé’s blushing too, as if she didn’t expect the attention to be turned on her.
Sora may be pushy sometimes, but he’s not cruel. He lets it go.
“That’s good,” he says honestly. “I’m really glad you fit in so well with our friends, Xion.”
She gives a flustered grin at that. “Me too.”
After school that day, one of the few days anymore Riku can bring himself to go over to Sora’s without his nerves completely overtaking him, they’re studying in his room (or, less studying and more taking breaks to play video games) when it happens again, weeks after the first time.
Riku’s phone lights up with a text from his mom, asking him to come home to help make dinner, and he gathers his stuff up to background noise of Sora complaining that he has to leave so soon.
Riku gathers up his stuff, slings his bag across his shoulder, and smiles back at Sora laying on his bed, pouting. “Bye. Miss you.”
And then, unceremoniously-- at least outwardly-- he leans down and presses a kiss to Sora’s lips.
Riku straightens, still smiling to try and alleviate his anxiety. Then, when it sinks in what he’s just done, he claps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry,” he chokes out from behind his hand, eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-- it just-- I just--”
“Riku,” Sora interrupts, looking at him strangely; he sits up slowly, as if he doesn’t want to worsen his minor breakdown. “It’s okay. You know it’s okay. It’s so okay that I was the one who did this first, remember?”
Through a haze of panic, Riku’s mind supplies that yes, Sora was the first to accidentally bleed their completely and entirely fake relationship outside of school. He still can’t force himself to calm down, though.
Sora’s standing in a second, holding the hand that’s not covering his mouth.
“It’s okay,” he repeats, and kisses the hand he has in his, keeping eye contact with Riku. It’s the soft reset Riku’s brain needs.
“Okay,” he hedges out from behind his hand, uncertain, and Sora’s grin is blinding. He forgets, briefly, that he ever did anything wrong.
Riku eases his hand out of Sora’s, waves almost as if it’s an afterthought, and turns to head out the door. He looks back at Sora when he’s in the doorway; his hand is touching his lips, eyes unfocused. “Um,” Riku says. “Sorry, again.”
He doesn’t get to hear his response before he’s gone.
On his way home, Riku wonders if maybe that wasn’t an exactly platonic reaction that Sora had, but he dismisses the thought quickly. He doesn’t want to give himself too much hope when nothing will ever happen.
He viciously reprimands himself for fucking up so badly, too; no matter how much Sora will say it’s okay, he knows it’s not and he’s just saying it is to be nice for his sake. He inappropriately invaded Sora’s privacy, and pretty likely gave himself away as having actual feelings for him.
Sighing audibly, Riku drags his hands down his face. This is… really exhausting. He tries to forcibly tell his brain to shut up and leave him alone for just one minute, but he can’t stop the buzzing in his head.
It seems like that’s happening a lot lately.
He doesn’t get much sleep that night.
---
They’re studying (playing video games) at Riku’s, when Sora sets down his controller, bracing himself for something.
“Riku, can I…” Riku can hear the chain of Sora’s necklace clinking; he must be fiddling with it in his apparent nervousness. Sora’s avoiding his eyes, blushing, and oh is he beautiful.
On instinct, Riku follows up with a, “Yeah?” Sora bites his lip, and Riku would be lying if he says his gaze hadn’t gone to it immediately. Fuck.
He mumbles something under his breath, his blush worsening, and Riku’s slightly in awe at how much he could just look at Sora forever.
“Sora, what…?” He trails off.
Balling his fists by his side, his necklace falling by his collarbones (why the hell didn’t he notice Sora was wearing a v-neck, holy shit), Sora asks, “Can I wear one of your hoodies?”
“Uh, yeah.” Casually, he grabs one of his off his floor, throwing it at Sora in a ball. “Why is that worth mentioning at all? We share like everything.”
Sora stands up to pull it over his head, maybe to avoid answering him; Riku can see his face getting impossibly redder. “Um,” he says after resurfacing, once again avoiding Riku’s eyes.
But Riku thinks maybe he understands now, his mouth going dry when he sees how Sora’s practically swimming in his hoodie, the collar dipping low, still exposing his collarbones, the bottom falling to his thighs. The sleeves-- the sleeves are falling over his hands. Holy shit. Over the years, Riku’s gotten good at schooling his blush to hide his feelings, but right now there’s no way he can help it. Sora’s fucking adorable, and he can’t take it. He feels, in the back of his mind, the alarmingly strong desire to just empty out his closet and give everything he owns to Sora.
“It’s different this time,” Sora insists, still unable to look at him for whatever reason. “It’s with romantic intent.”
Riku snorts, willing his blush away. “Fake-romantic intent, you mean.” It almost hurts to remind himself, what with how long they’ve been doing this.
Sora jumps, shaking his head as if to remind himself of something. “Right. Fake-- this is. Yeah. Um. I should probably get home, huh?”
He’s totally switching topics, but Riku’s so confused he just lets him. “Uh, sure?” he supplies. Sora’s gathering his stuff hurriedly, having to push up the sleeves to do so, which will kill Riku one day, and then he’s said a rushed goodbye.
“I’ll wear it tomorrow,” he promises, and then he’s out the door before Riku’s even said anything. He was still blushing; how can he be so pretty.
Sora’s true to his word, and Riku has to excuse himself at lunch to wander the halls because it’s so hard to be around Sora wearing his clothes, why was that not something he ever considered--
Naminé’s hand is light on his arm, but Riku still freezes at the touch. He turns, barely able to look her in the eye when she’s like this, like she’s inside of his head and knows everything he’s thinking.
She’s staring at him, inquisitive; it’s a complete mood shift. But he knows what she wants, and she doesn’t even have to say anything. They find themselves in the same classroom again, incidentally. Riku would laugh if the situation weren’t as bleak as it is.
“Riku,” Naminé starts, voice sad. “You’ve been getting worse.”
Okay, objectively Riku knows he looks like shit-- he’s been losing sleep, and it is true that he’s been feeling like shit, but it can’t be that bad.
“No, I haven’t,” he says, mulish.
“Please, Riku. I don’t want you to hurt any more than you do.” And then she brings out the big guns. “You don’t smile around him anymore.”
That’s the kicker. His shoulders drop, and he turns away from her, rubbing at his face. He suddenly feels as exhausted as he knows his body is, with how little he’s been taking care of himself recently. All at once, he realizes he won’t keep lying to Naminé any longer; it’s one more layer on the problem.
His voice is hoarse, hollow. “Okay. You’re right. Sora and I aren’t actually dating.” He wants to continue, but something catches in his throat, and he swallows, hard.
Naminé reaches out and takes his hand, comforting. He gives her a weak smile in thanks.
“Xion said… Xion said it was inspiring to her that we were so open about our relationship, and Sora, like he does, didn’t say we weren’t dating.” He pauses, clears his throat. “He didn’t want to let her down.” In spite of it all, he smiles still. “I can’t blame him; it’s not as if it isn’t noble.”
Naminé’s pensive. “If it’s making you feel this bad, I can hardly call it noble,” she states, matter-of-fact. It twists Riku’s heart, but after a beat he continues. At the very least, it’s kind of therapeutic to let out everything he’s been keeping in for the past few months now.
“So he…” He’s quieter now. “He suggested we fake-date around school, and I agreed to it.” He takes his hand out of Naminé’s, running his hands down his face, where he knows his dark circles and eye bags are more pronounced than before… all of this.
Feeling self-conscious about her seeing how picked-at his nails are as well, he balls his hands into fists. “I don’t know why I did. Maybe it was more self-hatred. Maybe I was taking pity on myself. Maybe I just wanted to know what it would be like, once.”
“Oh, Riku,” Naminé says. Her voice is the saddest he’s ever heard it. “You know he loves you.”
“Don’t.” Riku’s tone is deathly serious, and he moves to look her in the eyes. “You don’t need to lie to me to make me feel better.”
She opens her mouth, but Riku turns away to avoid looking at her expression. Evidently, she decides not to push it, taking his hand again and squeezing it consolingly. They sit together in silence until the bell signaling the end of lunch rings, and they jerk to attention at it.
Naminé squeezes Riku’s hand one last time, and they walk into the hallway, where Sora barrels into Riku, looking frantic.
“Hey, watch i-- oh!” He stops. “Riku! Hi! I was just looking for you. Where were you during lunch?”
In lieu of a response, Riku shakes his head. Sora shrugs, knowing he’ll tell him when he’s ready to, and takes his hand.
All Riku can think about is that Naminé had to have seen him flinch when he did.