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When Sora was fifteen, he confessed his feelings. He’d called Leon out to the bailey and handed him a letter, asking to to take it seriously.
“I’m ten years older than you,” Leon had told him, shifting uncomfortably. “And you aren’t an adult, yet.”
“But it could work!” Sora insisted.
“You don’t understand what kind of position you’re putting me in,” Leon fired back, less than pleased. “This needs to be dropped. Now.”
Sora’s lips had trembled.
Leon turned away.
“If I were older, would your reply be different?”
“I’m not sure,” was the taut reply. “As things stand, you’re just a child. Spend time with people your own age.”
…
When Sora turned sixteen, he saved the universe. Kingdom Hearts had been opened. The worlds had been remade; whole. Unshattered.
There were festivities for days in the countries that were aware. The ones that knew the darkness had been driven out. The ones who knew Sora. There were gifts and promises of first-borns and the occasional kiss.
But nothing mattered to Sora more than his visit to Hollow Bastion – no; Radiant Garden – and the hand that slapped on his shoulder.
“Good job,” Leon told him.
Yuffie had immediately bounded over, slapping them both on the back and offering Sora a glass of something called “wine.”
“You’re old enough for the sweet stuff, now,” she told him, pushing a glass into his hands. “Enjoy yourself. Celebrate!”
The next morning Sora woke in the gummi ship, covered in cake and streamers, and decided alcohol wasn’t for him.
…
Sora was seventeen when he was called to Radiant Garden for Kairis coronation. It was a big event. Everyone from the countries they had visited – and then some – were walking the halls of the castle, matting and greeting.
In the middle of it all, Leon looked exhausted. His expression, drawn; his countenance, wan; his eyes naught more than dark circles in his face. He looked out over the gathering with something like annoyance as everyone began filing into the main hall, where he had been stationed.
Sora had abandoned his place in line, striding up to Leon with a wide grin. “You look tired,” he noted warmly. “Anything I can do?”
“You could get me a cup of coffee,” was the soft admission. “Maybe a sandwich that I can sneak when no one’s looking.”
“Consider it done,” Sora announced, fleeing off in the direction of the kitchens. He was back in minutes, toting a thermos and a large bagged slice of pie. “Cook said this was your favorite,” he said, handing over the items.
Leon had smiled.
Sora thought his heart was going to stop.
“Thanks,” Leon said like it wasn’t the sweetest thing in the world to Sora’s ears.
No problem , he wanted to say. I want to take care of you.
Instead, all that came out was a high, “Guess I better take a seat.”
“At this rate it’ll be standing rom only,” Leon noted, glancing out over the crowd.
Sora grinned, then took off toward the line, trying to keep his smile in check.
…
When Sora turned eighteen, life became boring. The hype had died down from the world uniting. Kairi was on the throne. It was just him and Riku on the island.
Riku, who apparently wanted a relationship. Wanted to kiss him under the stars and hold his hand. Wanted to care for him after a long sparring session, kissing his bruises and bandaging his wounds.
And Sora, with perhaps the greatest cruelty he would ever be capable of, let him.
As tanned fingers tangled with silver hair, all too open he would think of darker strands and stormy eyes. As hands wandered his imagined a different person. Different hands. A different voice.
Leon’s voice.
He ended things before long, feeling dirty and angry and scared.
Eighteen wasn’t a good year.
…
Nineteen was better.
Nineteen had him moving to Radiant Garden. Partly to be close to Leon and Kairi, but mostly because there was more in the city. There was always something going on.
He flitted about doing odd jobs at first before joining a dojo. Before long he’d been instated as a teacher, leading classes and giving out belts. He sparred with Tifa on his days off. Went to tea with Kairi. Got breakfast with Yuffie. And Leon…
Leon would occasionally call him out of the blue, insisting they do something entirely random in the name of “being social.” It wasn’t a side of him Sora had ever expected, but it was there and he loved it.
…
When Sora turned twenty, he gave Leon another letter. This one, he felt, was more complete than the first. They knew more about each other. Knew quirks and favorite foods and how good they were at pinball.
“It would be inappropriate,” Leon insisted this time. “I’m thirty; haven’t you realized?”
“I know. I don’t care,” Sora insisted.
“You’ll care when people say things,” Leon replied.
“Since when do you care about what people say?”
“I always care,” Leon had replied, tense.
…
At twenty-one, Sora was a mess. He finally grew a spare few inches, making him taller than Tifa (barely,) and all of a sudden people were… interested . Propositions sat around every corner, it felt like. Was it normal in Radiant Garden to just suggest sex ? He didn’t know. Didn’t want any part of it. Didn’t feel comfortable. Didn’t want to do that with anyone but Leon.
It would always be Leon.
…
At twenty-two, Sora wrote another letter, but didn’t hand it over. Instead he locked it away. Sealed it in a small wooden box that sat on his chest of drawers at home. There it sat, untouched and unread.
It was quickly joined by others. Longer letters. Shorter letters. Letters with secrets. Letters with lies. Angry letters. Sad letters. Letters about his eyes. Letter about his hands.
Letters to and about Leon.
…
At twenty-three, Sora went back to Destiny Islands and burned the box and all its contents.
…
Twenty-four was better. Twenty-four had Ienzo.
Neither of them really knew how the relationship started. Why it started. But they’d both seen the supernatural side of the worlds and come out the other side, and that was apparently enough in common to bond. Or at least to make out in a dark alleyway where no one could see them.
There wasn’t much to the relationship. Mostly wandering hands and eager lips. But it was a good distraction. And sometimes Sora felt unfair. That he was using Ienzo to cope. But then, he realized, he was in the same boat.
“You help me forget,” Ienzo said one day. “You help me forget everything I’ve done.”
And then one day he didn’t want to forget, and Sora was okay with that. The breakup was private, but somehow the media found out anyways, plastering it on the covers of tabloids across the country, and Sora honestly wondered when he had become such a public face.
“You saved the world,” Leon told him over some pasta one night, eating out of containers as they kicked their feet over a fountain. “What did you think was going to happen? That no one would notice you were single?”
Sora made a face.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m right.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Sora replied quickly. “Besides, why aren’t the tabloids all over you?”
“Because I make myself boring.”
“You aren’t boring.”
“You’re biased.”
“Of course I’m biased. I’m in love with you!”
A silence fell between them at this. A tense, almost angry silence broken by a sharp, whispered, “I thought you had gotten over that.”
“I’ll never get over you,” Sora replied softly. “I’m just wondering when you’ll think I’m old enough to take seriously.”
“I do take you seriously,” Leon argued.
“Ten why won’t you give me a serious answer?” he fired back. “Do you like me or don’t you?”
“You’re one of my closest friends.”
“That’s not an answer, Leon.”
It was a while before Leon spoke. Before he turned to Sora, eyes wide, and insisted. “It wouldn’t work.”
“Oh, so you can see the future now?” Sora snapped bitterly. “My apologies, Oh Great Oracle.”
“Don’t give me that,” Leon spat.
Sora shrank. “Sorry,” he murmured.
Slowly, Leon’s expression soured. “No,” he insisted quietly. “I’m sorry. I… Honestly, I still can’t see you as anything but that fourteen year old boy stumbling through Traverse Town.”
Sora stared.
“What?”
“I’m twenty-four,” he pointed out.
Leon made a face.
“If I could make you see me as an adult, would that be okay?”
“That… would be okay, I guess.”
Boxing up his noodles, Sora motioned for Leon to follow. He lead them back to his small walk-up apartment. Through the door. Into the living room.
“I’m going to kiss you, now,” he said, settling his noodle box on the counter. “Just once. Is that okay?”
Leon was quiet before he nodded. Before he agreed with a soft, “Just one.”
Sora bent forward; first slow, then fast. And as their mouths met his heart began to pound until there was nothing else. Nothing but soft lips against his. Warm hands drawing up his arms to land on his shoulders.
And then they parted.
Leon looked…
… breathless.
“You okay?” Sora asked.
Leon opened his mouth but all that came out was a squeak.
Sora laughed.
He cleared his throat. “Alright,” he began softly.
Blue eyes blinked, unsure. “Alright what?”
Leon’s smile, then, was complicated. “Let’s give it a try. Us.”
Sora snorted. “That didn’t take much.”
“Yes, well, I’m a pushover.”
“Wish I’d know that ten years ago.”
Leon made a face. “No.”
“What?”
“I don’t date children.”
“... Point taken.”