Work Text:
02/10/2018
Cliché
Riku had a beautiful smile, because you could hardly ever see him smiling.
With Sora, Riku smiled more, more often, more intensely. His aquamarine eyes lit with unusual sweetness, soft and pleasant.
Sora often lingered in the thought that those smiles were there because of him. He often daydreamed about his lips when they curved up. Strange thoughts threaded their way through the agitated chaos of his mind to display all of their messy splendor.
He liked being with Riku.
He liked being with Riku.
Riku was his best friend.
Riku was his best friend.
The words were the same, always the same, pounding and piercing like a whistle, and even so, they rolled on his tongue, when he repeated them in front of the mirror, in such a different way.
Can the same word change his meaning depending on how was it pronounced?
Maybe it was not the words that were changing, but him.
« Sora? » The boy raised his head as he heard the calling, like a puppy that gladly responds to his master’s voice. How much time did he remained lost in his thoughts while around him the world kept turning?
He gradually focused his attention on the street, the sun in the clear sky, the weight of the bag on his shoulders, the joyful sounds of the kids that had just got out of school. And then him, Riku. When they got out of school the first thing that he did was loosen the bow tie, that he often kept strictly tied around his neck in order to not look shabby. Always so perfect, his Riku, always so attentive.
« Yes? » He was able to mumble several seconds later, like his brain was not connected to his tongue.
Riku smiled, shaking his head. A burst of heat, pleasant and dense, run through Sora’s back, who couldn’t help but return the smile.
« You didn’t hear a single word, did you? »
If there was a thing Sora was good at, it was blushing, in a humble way, embarrassed and conscious at the same time: something that made Riku go crazy.
He restrained himself from laughing just because they were in public, placing a hand on his mouth to contain the laughter. At the light of the day his silver hair looked white as pearls displayed in a showcase.
Sora felt his heart skip a beat.
«I didn’t do it on purpose! » He weakly tried to justify himself, a flame red squeaking, out from lips full of embarrassment.
« I hope so! » Riku replied. In the last year he had grown up enough to get taller than Sora, to overlook him from above, with shoulders that were getting wider, chasing adulthood, and the expression getting mature. « Your head’s always in the clouds. What were you thinking about?»
“About you” whispered, indecent, the voice inside Sora’s head, who looked away though. Straight ahead, towards the way home.
« Nothing special. » he replied instead, moving a lock of brown hair behind his ear. He always did so when he was nervous, what he didn’t know was that Riku knew by heart all those little movements.
« Nothing special. » The albino repeated, a half smile on his lips. « Doesn’t seem “nothing special”. But maybe I’m wrong. »
Closer, he got closer, just for a moment, few inches, enough to touch Sora’s shoulder.
He blinked faster, restraining himself from turning towards him.
«Why don’t you come to my place? » He asked, suddenly, before his mind, or his common sense, could impede him from saying it. « To do homework together? » He added, trying to justify himself.
Riku looked at him like one would look at precious things, things that you cannot touch but just admire from distance. He could break him if he got too close, because Sora, just like a crystal, was too fragile.
« Yes, why not. » with a shrug before sticking his hands inside his pockets. Restrained from every temptation, where they should be.
Sora felt his heart heaving a happy sigh, and followed his friend trotting joyfully.
Far, at the horizon, the sea fell onto the beach, the minor islands emerged from the water, high enough to cut the sky. The sea salt’s scent brought by the wind made their clothes rustle, drying the sweats from their back. Just a few more weeks: summer was close.
Somewhere, between the streets of the city, a cicada started chirping, accompanying the boys’ pace towards home.
Those who were faster had already repaired from the sun in their houses, inside a café, under the shadow of a bus shelter, the streets were empty, while the asphalt was trembling because of the heat.
Sora swayed from one foot to the other, like he was drunk, tired but happy. Happy for what? For the sun, for the long lazy afternoon that awaited them, for Riku. Only for Riku.
« Riku… » he suddenly called, without looking at him, not even when his friend turned, because then he could have never gone on. « …I was wondering… » those eyes, those eyes the color of the sea. He felt a shiver, he bit his lip. He couldn’t go on even without looking at him.
He stopped, head low, staring at his own shoes, at the blue striped trousers that was ridiculously too big for him, at his crinkled white shirt with ink stains, at his bow tie with a crooked knot. He tasted blood in his mouth: he had bitten too hard.
« Are you alright? » Riku tried, worried, getting closer enough to be too close.
Sora held his breath, clenched his fists, his heart was pounding in his chest.
“Now, you gotta do it now. Now!”
«Riku! » too loud, he whined frustrated. « Riku. » he tried again. Why his tongue kept twisting in his mouth? « I like you. »
The cicada stopped chirping, the wind stopped blowing, even the sun stopped, getting a little colder. The world could have gone to pieces at any moment, Sora could feel cracks under his feet.
Riku stayed quiet, his face an expressionless mask. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Why he was never able to understand him?!
Then he leaned towars him, slowly, or it was just Sora’s twisted perception to make him seem so slow. When they touched his own, Sora realized he couldn’t do without those lips.
After that kiss, a smile. Everything was clear to Sora: Riku’s smiles had really always been because of him.