Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Amidst the darkness and the starlight filtering into the bedroom, every thought and feeling seemed amplified. Riku was used to feeling overwhelmed by the train of emotions racing around in circles in his brain, but he had learned to get on it eventually and over the past years, had sorted through the contents of every wagon, until he had catalogued and defined every emotion and buried thought hidden there. He felt them all, so deeply, but once defined and ordered, they started making sense.

Guilt, for letting go of his light to open a door that was never his to open. 

Sadness, for all the time spent in darkness, a world of loneliness that had become such a big part of him.

Fear, of losing his way again. Fear of losing his light again.

Happiness, too, sometimes, for the times he laughed at Mickey's or Sora's jokes, or even Axel's or Naminé's.

Duty and devotion. To set things right. To prove himself, over and over, until he was strong enough. Duty and devotion were maybe the most important ones.

Although… 

There was love. Maybe most of all, he'd defined and redefined the meaning of love.

At one time, all of the above had all been neatly categorised and labelled. What was more, he had allowed himself to feel them all. They had made him stronger, had made him feel confident. Invincible, even. 

But a week ago, the train had derailed, and the ensuing wreckage had taken over his entire being. Without a task or a mission to focus on, the wagons' contents had piled together and he didn't know where to begin in order to sort through the resulting mess. He felt just as useless and powerless as his 15-year-old self had. 

Now, there was just a pile of sadness and despair, drowning out everything else. Only darkness, no light. He'd always assumed that when the war was over, there would just be light. How naive.

Maybe if there was one thing he felt that he could label amidst the rubble, it was gratitude. Because if Sora hadn't come back from that final battle, Riku was sure he would be in the Realm of Darkness now, waiting out his days by the dark shore. The Realm of Light felt almost as dark now, but at least with Sora by his side, there was a spark.

It had been a week since the end of the Keyblade War. A week since Riku and Sora had returned to the Mysterious Tower, and Yen Sid told them to rest up for a few days. As if a few nights of sleep would erase all the heartache, the sacrifices, the self-doubt, the holes in his memory that he could still feel somehow, the bruises that went deeper than just skin. The chill that had settled into Riku’s bones and wouldn’t leave and had become the perfect contrast with Sora's hot tears against his neck as Sora clung to him in the middle of the night. Hot and cold undulating within him in waves. 

In any case, it was not like they were really sleeping anyway. 

After Xehanort's defeat, Riku had seen Sora almost fall apart in front of his eyes. Sure, Sora had put on a brave face in Scala ad Caelum while everyone congratulated him on his and Donald and Goofy's victory. But Riku noticed the smile hadn't been wide enough, had never reached his eyes. When they said their goodbyes to everyone, Sora's eyes had clouded over, and Riku knew it had not been in an “I'll miss you and I'll see you soon" way. With the adrenaline starting to fade, Sora was shaky when he reached out to take Riku's hand, his breaths shallow and uneven.

Aqua, Terra, and Ven had desperately wanted to return to the Land of Departure to remember their master, and to try and reforge a friendship that had nearly cracked under misunderstandings and pressure. Roxas, Axel, and Xion agreed that they wanted to restart their new somebody lives somewhere familiar, and had gone to set up a new life in Twilight Town. 

After long and tearful hugs goodbye, Donald and Goofy joined Mickey on his gummiship to return to their lives in Disney Castle.

Then it had just been Kari, Sora, and Riku. Like old times. Yet at the same time, nothing like old times. Kairi had turned to Riku and Sora with an apologetic look on her face. She bit her lip, a nervous habit since childhood, before explaining that she was leaving to complete her keyblade studies with Ienzo and Ansem the Wise in Radiant Garden. She explained about her wish to learn more about her past, and while Riku could do nothing but respect that, the end result was the same. Kairi left, just like all of their friends who had opted to seek solace elsewhere.

After everyone had gone, Sora leaned in close to Riku and whispered, “I wanna go home.”

And with a sudden ache in his chest, Riku realised that he didn't know where home really was anymore. When he met Sora's weary eyes, it became clear that Sora didn't know either. For now, the Tower was their only option, a familiar place they had come back to whenever they needed to recuperate over the past months. So Riku and Sora had left for the tower with Master Yen Sid. 

Before the end of the war, Riku had fantasised about the things he would do when it was all over. Every time he kept watch in the darkness, with Mickey sound asleep next to a dying fire, Riku had made dozens of plans in his mind. 

He had mentally compiled lists of all the places he still wanted to see, swiping absentmindedly through the hundreds of pictures Sora sent him on his gummiphone. So many worlds he could explore once they knew peace. Endless sights to see, alone, or maybe even with Sora, if he let his mind wander just a little too far before he stopped himself. Even when Sora's selfies were often accompanied by a “miss you, wish you were here.”

In his mind, Riku had catalogued all the books he still wanted to read. Not just books about keyblades and magic and Masters of old, but the epic fantasy stories that were still in his bookcase back home on the Destiny Islands. Books Sora had given him for Christmas and for his birthday. The last few of which he hadn't ever opened before...everything, because back then, thoughts of leaving and sadness and jealousy had made it hard to look at anything that reminded him of Sora.

There were so many things he wanted to learn. Maybe Sora could teach him to cook. He figured that it would be nice to do something practical. When he did things with his hands, those were the few times he could focus on something other than his potential trainwreck of intersecting thoughts. All the “what if’s” and “but then's” that got jumbled up in his head quieted when he held something in his hand. 

Maybe he could learn how to build furniture. He remembered watching Sora's dad build Sora's first boat. Maybe he could try something like that. Something small at first maybe, like a table, or a small cabinet.

Sometimes, he thought about what it would be like if he and Sora just went somewhere, did something fun together. Maybe a movie. Maybe just eating sandwiches on the roof, while they sat in comfortable silence. Or maybe they could talk. Maybe, if Riku felt really brave, he could say something. Something about Sora being his light in the darkness, or something about what he had finally, finally accepted completely about himself.

But now that it was all over, and he actually had time to start on these lists, all he wanted to do was lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling. Thoughts of confessions or plans had disappeared from his mind like light in the face of too much darkness. The only thing that kept Riku from falling apart completely was the knowledge that no matter how overwhelmed he was by all the sadness, Sora had almost died at the hands of the most powerful nemesis they'd ever faced, Sora had shouldered the lion's share of the burden, Sora thought he was worthless alone. And Sora needed him now.

They kept to their room, mostly. It was small and orderly, and it only had one exit. Whenever Riku moved through the tower, he needed to mentally note all possible escape routes at all times, which was exhausting. The room was safe.

Still, they needed food and water. Once, Sora had left to make tea and sandwiches, and Riku had counted the seconds until he returned, trying to tell himself it was okay. Sora would come back. But after mentally counting to a hundred a full fifteen times, he couldn't tell himself this anymore.

He found Sora standing at the kitchen counter, staring off into space with a blank look on his face. He had his hands curled onto the counter top, next to two large black mugs.

“Sora?”

Sora jerked and whirled around, arm curling protectively around his stomach. Riku's stomach tied itself into knots as Sora's wide eyes moved wildly around the room before setting on Riku's.

The tea had gone cold.

In the end, during their week of resting up, neither Sora or Riku had left the tower once. Riku knew Mickey split his time between Disney Castle and the Mysterious Tower, running a kingdom and making keyblade Master plans with Yen Sid up in the study. He felt the ripple of magic in the air every time Mickey arrived. He'd heard the knock on the door the first time, but when Sora froze at the sound and gave a minute shake of his head, Riku hadn't bothered opening either. Seeing Mickey now would mean having to put on a brave face. Riku could do this, but Sora… Sora had to stop thinking about others, and start thinking about himself.

The dutiful part of Riku felt guilty for not joining Yen Sid and Mickey. He was a Master, too, and he should be up there to draw up plans and gather information with them. He had obligations, responsibilities. But he felt so weak, and there was so much inside of him that weighed him down all the time. It made his limbs feel heavy, and there was an apathy inside of him he'd never felt before. Even the thought of a Heartless or a keyblade made his chest clench. So he stayed on his bed, staring out of the window, or at Sora next to him.

He forced himself to take a shower every day, just to keep up some sense of normalcy. It was good as long as he didn't look into the mirror. The first time he caught sight of himself, he had flinched at the dark circles under his eyes, at the way his hair seemed to have lost all shine, the tight look on his face. Was that really what he looked like?

After that first time, he just didn't turn on the light in the bathroom anymore. He was good at moving about in the dark, relying on his other senses. He'd done it for over a year, after all.

He hated stripping, hated feeling vulnerable without his clothes on, but in the dark it was a little better, because he couldn't see the bruises and the scars on his body. Instead, he just got into the shower without seeing anything and turned up the water too hot and scrubbed himself too hard. It would leave his skin raw and red, but that was okay, because at least this way he could feel something, even if only a little. He couldn't see in the dark, but all his other sense seemed dulled as well. The vanilla-almond smell of the shower gel, the sound of the water all around him, he barely noticed it as he turned the hot water up even more.

When he came out of the shower, Sora sat in the darkened hallway, back to the wall and curled in on himself, eyes fixed firmly on the bathroom door. Riku jumped when he saw him, hand instantly going to his chest at the sudden spike of adrenaline.

He was okay. It was okay. It was just...

“Sora?”

“I thought you—" Sora's eyes flicked towards the end of the hallway. “I'm sorry…"

Seeing Sora sitting there reminded Riku of his first day of school. He had just turned five, and Sora, being a year younger, waved a tearful goodbye to him from behind his living room window. Somehow, not that much later, Sora managed to escape his mother's attention, and walked the entire way to the Destiny Islands elementary school. He had waited in the school yard, holding back his tears, until it was play time and Riku had found him hidden underneath the jungle gym.

And just like back then, Riku hurried over to him, and Sora clung to him for a long time, trembling in the tiny space between Riku's chest and the wall, before they were able to go back to their room.

Mostly, having Sora pressed into his side helped when nothing else did. The past nights (and most of the days), they had spent in the same small single bed. Wordlessly, they lay next to each other. At least when they didn't have anything else anymore, they still had this. Riku wondered if there would ever be another person in the world who understood him the way Sora did.

It should have been uncomfortable, maybe, the two of them in such a small space, but Sora draped himself all over Riku’s chest, and it felt as if he just belonged there. It was the only thing that still made sense in Riku’s head anymore; the gentle tug on his shirt, the desperate fingers curling over his biceps, Sora’s red-rimmed tired eyes as they shared the same pillow and couldn't find the words to voice the desolation Riku felt echoed in Sora's soul.

If they didn't have anything else anymore, at least they still had this.

Even if they were both too tired for words, just wrapping his arms around Sora made Riku feel better, a tiny flicker of light trying to worm its way into his heart. He just hoped it was the same for Sora. Sora smiled, sometimes, but his eyes were always tired and sad, so it was hard to tell. He should have been able to feel it, maybe, in their heart song, but the apathy had dragged down his own heart until it didn't feel Sora's anymore.

At night, they didn’t sleep, not really. Riku stared at the ceiling for hours, following the lines on the ceiling the moonlight made through the blinds, until he had them all memorised. He felt it whenever Sora fell asleep for a bit, his breathing evening out. He felt it, too, when Sora jerked awake mid-nightmare.

He should have been able to help Sora navigate his nightmares. It was his goddamn job, yet the link between them was weakened with exhaustion and a bone-deep pain that Riku didn't know how to navigate it anymore. So he just held Sora after he jerked awake, whispering I'm here, it's okay, you're okay, even though two out of those three were lies, and they both knew it.

He swallowed against the guilt in his throat. He could handle all of his own sorrow, had handled it for years, but the fact that he was so broken now that he couldn't do this for Sora anymore was the worst pain of all, the nail in the proverbial coffin. So he made sure not to sleep when Sora did, trying over and over to find ways to trace and strengthen a link that had once vibrated with life and love and closeness.

There were other feelings still, beyond the anguish, he was sure of it. He just wished he could remember them. He used to feel so much and so deeply. Loving Sora had always come as easily as breathing. Why couldn't he feel this anymore? Why was there only anguish, when there had been so much heart and soul before?

Riku sighed deeply, a slow rise and fall of his chest where Sora's ear was pressed to his heartbeat. His eyes were itchy and dry, like his throat, but no tears would come.

Once upon a time, he'd had so many plans. If he was honest with himself, most of them had included Sora. Yet he had never planned on not having the energy to do any of it. And with Sora's arms around his chest, Sora dozing motionlessly for as long as it lasted, he didn't want to move anyway, even if he'd had the energy.

After a week of being caught between fitfully drifting in and out of consciousness and trying to gather the energy to get out of bed, Yen Sid and Mickey summoned them to the study upstairs. Apparently, Darksides had been spotted in Arendelle, and Heartless had been appearing more frequently in other worlds, too. Yen Sid and Mickey had drawn up mission details, had decided it was time for them to start doing their duty again.

As if Sora hadn’t done enough duty to last him a lifetime.

Silently, he and Sora put on their travelling clothes and packed their bags: nothing more than a small stack potions, clean underwear and one pair of sweatpants, a toothbrush and a towel. Both of them were too used to not needing more than the bare necessities in life. Their movements were slow, and Riku could tell Sora was putting off the trip up the stairs as much as he was. 

When they were both done and there was nothing left to put off the inevitable anymore, Sora turned to look at him. There was a pause, before Sora tried to smile, a hollow uptilt of his lips, his eyes empty. With a jolt, Riku realised he hadn't seen Sora's real smile in weeks. All of his smiles had looked like this. Even after the battle against Xehanort, the look on Sora's face had been an adrenaline-filled smirk that didn't reach his eyes. Riku couldn't remember Sora's last real smile, the one that made him think of sunshine and swimming races in the ocean and made him feel like he was home no matter where they were.

Smiling, even when he didn't mean it, had somehow become Sora's default reaction to everything.

“Don't do that,” Riku said, shaking his head, his voice hoarse from disuse. “You don't need to smile when you're not happy.”

Sora's eyes widened in surprise.

When they were younger, Sora had always been so earnest. With his heart on his sleeve, his smiles and his tears and even his occasional petulant fits had all been real and always so easy to appear. When had that changed? When had Sora resorted to pushing down everything he felt in order to make the people around him feel better?

He reached out a hand, which Sora took without words, and they left the room together. Yen Sid's was only three flights of stairs up, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy away for the effort it took them to get there.

There was a speech from Yen Sid that Riku barely heard, something about being able to rely on them. Mostly, there was Sora holding his hand, Sora standing just a little bit too close, his eyes wide and a tight look on his face.

Mickey shuffled around papers on the desk, starting on the directions for the missions. He explained how the others had already received their mission details, and had already been sent on their way to other worlds to fight off the Heartless that were starting to pop up here and there again. How well everyone was doing so far.

Before Riku had time to process all of that, Yen Sid turned to them both.

Sora tightened his hold on Riku's hand.

“We think you have the skills to handle the Darksides in Arendelle.”

Riku felt Sora's entire body stiffen next to him.

“You have proven yourselves to be amongst the strongest of the keyblade wielders. You have a duty to the rest of the worlds.”

There were more words that followed after that, but Riku didn't hear them over the rushing in his ears. Slowly, he turned his head, tugging gently on Sora's hand. But Sora may as well have been a statue. His gaze was downcast, and Riku felt his panic as if it were his own. Although maybe it was, too.

“Sora…" he whispered, but the boy by his side didn't show any indication of hearing him.

Riku moved, shifting so he was between Sora and the desk, slipping arms around his shoulders. Sora was stiff in his embrace, his entire body a rigid line of barely concealed grief. 

“Hey,” Riku whispered in his ear, and felt the answering sob. He wanted to say it's okay, but he couldn't get the words out. None of this was okay.

Still, that one word was like a dam breaking, and suddenly Sora was shaking like a leaf. Riku tensed his arms around him as tightly as he could, afraid Sora would fall apart if he didn't. The rest of the room vanished, Riku's entire world narrowed to his best friend trembling in his arms. But he had no words; there was nothing he could say to comfort Sora, and he had never felt so useless. He should be strong, for Sora, but he didn't remember how to. His heart didn't remember how to.

What was worse, the selfish part of him was glad that Sora was not ready to wield a keyblade again, because Riku wasn't either, but he squashed that thought down so deeply it would never be allowed to crop up again.

As if from far away, words pierced through the bubble that Riku had visualised around him and Sora.

“Riku, Sora. I am aware that I ask much of you. But as keyblade wielders, you have responsibilities.”

Suddenly, a red-hot force erupted in his chest, and the power of it made him shake, too. There it was. One of the other emotions. His hands clenched into fists, and for a second he pulled Sora even tighter against him before releasing one arm to half-turn around. All restraint left him.

“Sora is my responsibility now,” he spat out, and he felt a pang of satisfaction as both Mickey and Yen Sid visibly flinched. “We've done enough.”

He should probably feel bad. He did, a little. But Sora was still shaking, and that was way more important than anything anyone thought of him. He cupped Sora's face in both hands, lifting it to meet his gaze. The emptiness he saw there was like a punch to his gut more powerful than any Heartless could ever have hit him.

He took Sora's hand in his left hand and both their bags in his right. Without a backward glance, Riku pulled him out of the room, down the stairs, and outside to the gummiship. He didn't stop moving until they were inside the cockpit, Riku behind the controls, Sora in the co-pilot seat. Finally, Riku finally felt like he could breathe again, the white-hot anger and adrenaline from moments ago fading to make way for lethargy and more concern than he knew what to do with.

“Where to?” he asked, and it was only then that Sora looked at him, his eyes two pools of azure despair.

“I wanna go back to the islands,” Sora muttered. His was voice was shaking, and he sounded so small.

Riku nodded, and started up the ship. Comforting Sora had become so easy to him lately, yet now, when Sora needed comfort the most, Riku didn't know what to say. What did you say to the boy who saved the world, but lost himself in the process? Sora wasn't giving him fake smiles anymore, but this was almost as bad.

Furthermore, with every mile the ship travelled away from the Mysterious Tower, Riku's heart sank a little further as he thought back to the circumstances of their departure. Had he overreacted when he snapped at Yen Sid? He had definitely been disrespectful. It was very unbecoming of a keyblade Master, when his most important duty should be to help those unable to protect themselves.

But when he turned to look at Sora staring off into space next to him, dried tear tracks on his cheeks, breathing calmed down a little as they flew farther away from the tower, Riku knew beyond a doubt that he had made the right decision, repercussions be damned. Sora was more important than any mission in the world. Sora was his duty now, and as long as Sora wasn't alright, Riku would try anything to fix and support him. Even if that meant renouncing his Master title.

They hadn't been flying long when Sora's phone started ringing. They both stiffened, waiting with bated breath until the sound stopped after long moments. Just when Riku exhaled in something close to relief in the ringing silence that followed, his own phone started up.

More notification dings followed from Sora's phone while Riku's ringtone echoed around the ship's cockpit. Mickey had probably called the others to tell them what had happened. And while Riku knew he would have to answer his phone eventually...

He couldn't do it right now. 

He glanced over to Sora, who had taken his phone out of his pocket and was staring at it blankly, evidently not sure what to do or how to answer the messages that kept popping up. With a heaved sigh, Riku held out his hand. 

Sora blinked for a moment, before handing over his phone. Riku quickly hit the button to turn it off, then passed it back. 

Sora didn't quite smile, but for a second he looked relieved, and he gave a curt nod. He put the phone back in his pocket and returned to staring out the window. 

Of course, the notification sounds had only halved now that Sora's phone was turned off, and Riku's own phone seemed to ding louder in the silence. Gritting his teeth, Riku quickly checked to make sure they were in open space before hitting the autopilot button and letting the ship navigate itself. Then he pulled out his own phone. 

He contemplated just turning it off as well, but he knew if he did that, the others would come looking for them. And they needed to get away and stop thinking about the others. Sora needed to focus on himself for once.

So instead, he opened up messages, ignoring the cacophony of texts questioning their actions and absence and instead opening up a blank message to the one person he trusted to explain everything and not bother them. 

Hey, Sora and I need time to recover. We'll be safe.

Kairi's response was immediate. I'll tell the others. Where will you be?

Riku bit his lip. If he told her, she'd come looking eventually. She might even already know where they'd go. But still. Someplace safe, he eventually replied and then turned his own phone off. He hoped she would understand. And if not, at least he'd explained himself now. Kairi would tell Mickey and the others to let them be, at least for a while.

With his hands tight against the steering wheel and the ship off autopilot again, Riku's thoughts drifted to the Destiny Islands. He hadn't been properly back there in years. There had been a few quick stops every few months, a sad sunset before the final battle, stilted conversations with his mother, a hometown that had changed beyond recognition even though everything still looked the same. Maybe it was him that had changed.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Sora curl into himself in the chair, arms around his knees, and forehead resting on his arms. Neither of them had spoken since they'd taken off. Instinctively, Riku reached out for a link that was barely there anymore, and flinched when the effort sent a wave of distress through him.

Still, he tried to tug on what was left of the link, but Sora didn't respond. Was it too weak, even for that? Now that their hearts were so out of tune in a way they hadn't been since Riku's had been wrapped in darkness, years ago…

When, three long hours later, Riku landed the gummiship on the play island, in the hidden clearing behind the secret place, he couldn't feel the link at all anymore. He didn't know what happened, exactly. He tried to reach out and mend it, his aching heart continuously calling out for its missing piece, but it was not there. 

Sora wouldn't look at him anymore. The air between them was heavy with Riku's unspoken questions and a lack of answers as they put their bags in the wooden row boat tied up to the dock and rowed back to the main island. He tried multiple times to start a sentence, but Sora's face was closed off and he was very determinedly not looking at Riku.

Once upon a time, Riku had been so sure in his love for Sora. Had even been sure in Sora's love for him, even if that was a different kind of love. He was content with anything Sora was able to give him.

But he had never counted on Sora so deliberately drawing away from him, shielding what remained of the dream eater link. He didn't know how to navigate this.

Once on the beach of the main island, after tying up the boat, things really turned south.

In a last attempt to get through to him, Riku reached out to touch Sora's shoulder, but Sora flinched away before the touch landed. The coil in Riku's stomach tightened further, and he took a step back, hand dropping uselessly to his side. 

Sora had said he wanted to go back to the islands. He never said he wanted to go there together.

Riku shoved his hands into his pockets to fool himself into thinking this was alright. He could learn to live with this, even when disappointment rose and rose like a wave inside of him. 

They were standing three feet apart, but they may as well have been in different realms once again. He pretended that he wasn't almost trembling with the urge to touch Sora, to pull him closer, to hug him until Sora went limp in his arms. He may not have slept much the past few nights, but having Sora close in the middle of the night had been the only comfort, the only thing that calmed the strain inside of him, the only thing his heart craved. 

He had been trying not to think about it, but another emotion suddenly emerged from the trainwreck. Fear. This had been his deepest fear. That the tiny glimmer of hope Riku had felt whenever he thought of Sora hadn't been mutual after all.

Sora still wouldn't meet his eyes. “I should go. My mom will want to see me.”

Riku didn't really know what he had expected to happen after they returned home. Maybe some talking. Maybe, he would have asked if Sora wanted to stay the night at his house. Maybe Sora would have followed him home without words, again. But this? This hadn't been it, he was sure. He clenched his teeth and forced out an exhale. “Yeah.”

They walked from the beach to their street side by side, but it was obvious that Sora was purposefully keeping his distance. There were no accidental brushes of fingers, no stolen glances. With every step, Riku's heart became heavier. It was obvious Sora wanted Riku to leave him alone.

When they reached their houses, Sora's on the right, Riku's two houses down on the left, they paused once more. Sora opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. And Riku found he had no words either, not even when Sora gave him a smile that was so far from alright that it pained Riku physically to look at.

If Sora wanted to be alone, Riku would leave him alone. It was the right thing to do, wasn't it? He wanted Sora to act on what he was really feeling. If that meant Riku wouldn't be by his side to share those feelings, then that was his burden to learn to bear. But he couldn't find the words to say any of this, so with a final nod, Riku turned and crossed the street. 

Though he felt Sora's fake smile and sorrowful eyes in his back the whole way, he didn't turn around.

Another thing he hadn't considered was what it would be like to step inside his childhood home again. For some reason, this hadn't ever come up in the post-war scenarios his mind had sketches. For all his plans of the future, he hadn't really thought about what it would be like to see his mother again.

After he dropped his bag in the hallway, she hugged him briefly, but after that she acted like he had just returned from a trip to the store for a carton of eggs and a bottle of milk. 

“How was your journey?”

Riku sat down on the couch and started telling his story, but he got as far as the first time he and Mickey had found a way into a different world to save a friend, before he saw her gaze out of the window with a blank look, and he realised she didn't care at all. 

“It was fine,” he said instead, cutting himself off. “I'm going to bed.”

His bedroom was exactly the same as the night he left the islands for good. It was mostly dust-free, so he knew his mother must have cleaned here, yet there was not an item out of place. His surfboard was still on the wall, next to the astronomy posters his 15-year-old self had cared about. A map of the island, bleached from sunlight. He walked around this room, touching the childhood memories all around. The faded journals on his desk, the fantasy books in the bookcase. The box of action figures in the corner. The old tv and the gaming console next to his bed.

Memories flooded his mind. Sora with his boundless imagination, making up stories of knights and kings. Sora, on his stomach on the bed, frantically smashing buttons because no Riku, I can beat this boss myself. Riku, with his ever-growing wish to take Sora and go, anywhere where the world didn't feel so small and he could love Sora without the judgement and the looks of the other kids.

He wished he could tell his fifteen-year-old self that he hadn't needed a door to darkness to love Sora.

He wished he remembered what it felt like to love Sora. What it felt like to have his heart in tune with Sora's. Maybe if he could feel that love again, beneath the despair, Sora wouldn't literally shield their most powerful connection. Maybe then Sora wouldn't have pulled away from him.

He thought maybe he should cry. But still, though his eyes itched and his chest clenched, his lungs somehow not large enough for the amount of oxygen his body needed, the tears wouldn't come. He undressed and lay down on his back on top of the covers. He already knew that even though he was tired, he wouldn't sleep much, if at all. The air in his room was stifling with more than just summer heat.

He started counting back down from one thousand to zero, but every time he got to nine hundred and ninety, he would get distracted as Sora's face drifted into his mind. The terror in Sora's eyes at the thought of a keyblade mission, the downtilt of his lips when he had refused to meet Riku's gaze. The way he had retracted further and further into himself during their journey home.

If Riku was honest with himself, he had just assumed that that when they got here…

He should have known better. Everyone handled their trauma differently, the fact that Riku wanted Sora close, that he needed him by his side was...selfish.

He sighed as he realised he'd lost count and tried again, starting at one thousand, but he hadn't gone three counts before his mind wandered again.

Sora's fake smile as they left their goodbyes unsaid. The feeling of Sora's eyes in his back of his head as Riku walked away… The emptiness by his side, the space where Sora had fit.

God, who was he kidding. Every cell in his body was crying out for him to try and fix this. Riku had pushed Sora away too many times in order to handle his problems on his own, because he thought it was for the best. But it had never been for the best. He wished someone had told him then that he was being an idiot. And if Sora thought he could handle...whatever this was, on his own? He might be wrong, the way Riku had been so, so wrong.

He wasn't consciously aware of having moved, but suddenly his phone was no longer on his nightstand but in his hand.

Are you awake? He pressed send before he could change his mind.

The reply was instantaneous. Yes. 

There was a pause as Riku deliberated which words to send to get through to Sora. ‘I miss you'? ‘Please don't push me away'? ‘I love you'? But before he could decide, the screen lit up again. Can I come over?

He didn't even have to think about that. God yes please.

For Sora, Riku found he could muster the energy to get up from the bed and move to the window. He watched as a lithe form emerged from Sora's front door and crossed the street. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, and the Destiny Islands had no streetlights, but Riku could still make out the Sora-shaped shadow that set foot into the front yard and stealthily crossed over to the drainpipe. 

Sora could glide and fly and high-jump now, yet still he chose to forego all that and climb up to Riku's window the old-fashioned way. For a moment, Riku pretended that they had gone back in time three years, and none of it had happened. He would open his window wider to let Sora in in the middle of the night, the way he always did, even after teasing turned into mocking and play fights turned into competitions during the daytime. During nighttime, he'd always let Sora in.

Sora reached the windowsill and heaved himself in through the open window, and Riku stepped back to give him space. But not too much. He couldn't help but reach out a hand to steady Sora as he stumbled in, and Sora looked up. He didn’t flinch this time.

For long moments, they stood staring at each other in the dark. Riku wanted to pull him closer, wanted to wrap him up so close that neither of them could breathe anymore, and maybe that would stop the pain, this way his heart was reaching, reaching and he didn't know how to stop it. The link was there, he knew it, and he tightened his fingers against Sora's shoulder, because he had to be patient, he had to go slow here. One wrong move...

“Sora…" he said, and he couldn’t look away.

Sora shuddered, quivering with a tension Riku could feel even in their one point of contact. 

“Riku, I…"

There were no words, really. Riku used to know these emotions, even though expressing them was usually a step too far. But they had made sense in his head, eventually. Yet now everything had collapsed into this chaos that didn't make any sense anymore. The only time he felt he could breathe, was when Sora was there. Sora was his one constant.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone,” Riku managed, eventually.

Sora stiffened under his touch, and his eyes glazed over before he looked away, out of the window. There was a long pause. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never be a burden to me,” Riku said, as firmly as he could manage.

“I thought you might want to come back here,” Sora whispered. “Start anew. A new life.”

“I don't want a new life.” Riku tightened his hand on Sora's shoulder again, but Sora didn't buckle under the weight of the touch.

“You don't want to be here?” The tremor in Sora's body increased, his mouth a hard line of tension and doubt.

“No, I do.” Riku shook his head. 

This used to be easy. He and Sora used to be able to communicate without words not even that long ago, across a dream eater link that spanned across worlds and realms. Hearts beating so in tune that they always just knew. Now they might as well have been speaking different languages. But he had to try, for Sora, so he pushed on. 

“I want to be here on Destiny Islands. I feel...safer here than I would anywhere else. We know there are no Heartless here anymore.”

They breathed for long moments, Sora still shaking, and Riku full of feelings he wasn't able to articulate.

“I just…" Riku sighed, dropping his hand to his side, fighting against the urge to clench it into a fist. “I can't be in this house.”

Sora looked back to him, a sad smile on his face. “I can't be in my house anymore either. Everything feels wrong in there.” 

There was something then, a weak flicker of...yearning? His heart jumped at the feel of it. Sora had dropped whatever barrier he’d thrown up on his side of the dream eater link.

And with that flicker, Riku knew with crystal clarity what it was that he wanted. It had been at the back of his mind, a thought that had been building for months and months. A picture in his head, a fantasy he barely let himself have, because he didn't get to have nice things, ever. But what if...

“Let's try this again,” Sora said softly, leaning in. “What do you want?”

And Riku didn't know if it was the earnest look on Sora's face or the fact that he was thinking about this deeply buried fantasy just as Sora spoke those words. But the answer came easily.

“I want to stay here, on the Destiny Islands. W— ” With you, Riku swallowed the words, his heart racing at the almost-confession. “What—What do you want?”

“I just want to be with you,” Sora breathed, his eyes downcast to the floor. And there it was. The admission Riku couldn't bring himself to say. “Everything is… I don’t know, there’s so much inside of me I don’t know. Everything feels wrong. All I know is...being around you...feels right.”

“Me too, Sora,” Riku mumbled, and was it his imagination, or was there a sudden heartbeat in tune in the space between them?

“All I could think, lying in bed just now, was how alone I felt." There were tears in Sora's voice now. Riku ached with the desire to reach out again. After a long moment, he let himself slowly raise a hand to smooth across Sora's cheek, thumb across his cheekbone, fingers brushing under his ear, before he dropped it again.

"We shouldn't be apart,” Riku said softly. “Not after everything. It doesn't...feel right."

“We've been apart for far too long,” Sora said, and he took another step closer. Even in the dark, Riku could now clearly see his eyelashes. “I never wanna be apart from you ever again."

“Me neither,” he said, so softly that he wondered if Sora heard the words at all.

There was a tiny spark, then, inside the wreckage of emotions. A sliver of warmth, once again. Riku reached out his hand, this time taking Sora’s hand in his, a solid weight, a comfort to calm this aching confusion inside of him. He couldn't not touch Sora. And if he was reading this right (and god he hoped he was), Sora didn't mind.

"So what do we do?” Sora shuddered as his eyes went blank for a moment. “We have nowhere else to stay on the islands, and I don't wanna sleep in the gummiship." 

“We've got munny. At least saving the world gave us that,” Riku said. He didn't know what it was that made him suddenly able to voice that fantasy fully, the words tumbling out of him, the words spoken too fast, too high-pitched. “Let's check out the real estate office tomorrow morning.”

Sora looked up, his eyes widening as the implication of what Riku was suggesting hit him. 

With a jerk, Riku tried to snatch his hand back. It was a stupid idea. Even if Sora had asked him what he wanted, this was too much. It would never work. Sora didn’t want to. They were speaking different languages again, and he'd misunderstood...

But Sora didn't let his hand go, and for the first time that day, Sora’s face softened. It wasn't a smile, but the look there was gentle and calm, like the eye of the storm. Riku's heart lightened a little at the side of it, and he exhaled the breath he'd been holding in for far too long.

“Yeah,” Sora said. “I'd like that.” 

Riku closed his eyes against the wave of sheer relief that crashed over him. It was too much, it was so much feeling, so much love, so much Sora. He remembered all at once what it felt like, to love so much and so deeply. The link thrummed with the beginnings of a warm glow.

It was Sora who pulled them over to Riku's bed, and it was Sora who cradled Riku's head against his chest, tenderly stroking across his hair in slow circles. The other arm curled against Riku's back, and Riku surrendered to the drowsiness when at long last, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

“You did what?” His mother's voice rose on the final word, an over-the-top hysterical screech that Riku remembered all too well from years ago.

“We bought a house,” Riku repeated, his voice a lot calmer than he felt, unblinking in the face of the familiar disapproving posture: squared shoulders, hands fisted on her hips, a look that sent a sliver of ice through his veins. He had learned long ago that staying calm worked better than shouting back at her.

“Riku, honey, you're too young to buy a house.”

Riku shivered involuntarily at the venom behind the silky words.

He could handle his mother's disapproval. He'd handled it for most of his youth. He just wished that Sora wasn't here to witness it this time. He should have been more adamant about insisting Sora wait for him upstairs in his room before he talked with his mother, but Sora turned those puppy eyes on him and Riku yielded without another word. Next to him, he felt rather than saw Sora lean a little closer to him.

At least with Sora by his side, he felt braver. Like he had to be strong enough for two right now. And he would be.

This morning, Riku had woken up before Sora, as usual. Though he didn't recall any dreams or nightmares, he did remember waking in the middle of the night. Sora had jerked against him, caught in the throes of a nightmare, an all too familiar sensation by now. Riku had shifted upwards so they were face to face, Riku's now pressed into the damp spot on the pillow Sora's tears had created. He tried to enter Sora's dreams through the tug in his heart, but it never went anywhere. He never stopped trying and trying, even as he brushed trembling fingers against Sora's cheeks and wrapped him up into his arms.

At least this night it had only been one nightmare.

It was still early, the birds just beginning to wake and chirp, and Riku could tell Sora was thankfully still sound asleep. So he buried his face deeper into Sora's shirt and allowed himself a deep breath. Sora always smelled nice. It wasn't the soap or the laundry detergent, it was something deeper, something a little vanilla-sweet and a little sweaty (but the good kind of sweaty, like vegetables and grapefruit) that Riku just wanted to bury himself into.

His eyes were still itchy and painful from a week’s (weeks’, months’?) worth of sleep deprivation, but he did feel...better? Maybe? Good enough to relax completely in Sora's hold, indulging in the way Sora's arms were solidly wrapped around his shoulders.

He listened to the sound of Sora's breathing, the air softly flowing in and out of his chest, and below that, his heartbeat. A slow and steady rhythm, reassuring him that Sora was here. Sora was alive.

Sora had said he wanted to be near him. Sora had said he’d like it if they bought a house together. The thought gave him enough energy to begin to mentally plan the next step. 

Riku was eighteen now, which meant he could manage his own munny. He'd saved up for years during his journey, only ever buying the most essential things; a few potions, a handful of ethers. He tried to use them as sparingly as possible, relying as much as he could on his healing magic and resting just enough to replenish it in-between battles. The most expensive thing he ever bought was a kupo coin, and only if he knew he was going somewhere the Heartless would be particularly ruthless.

But most of all, he regularly deposited all the munny he received after battles in his bank account. He knew it had added up a lot over the past few years. He figured it would be enough for a modest house. He might have researched that, on one of the lonely nights in the Realm of Darkness, with nothing to distract him but a spotty internet connection and thoughts and secret mental images of the future.

He felt it when Sora awoke, this time not with a jerk, but slowly, letting out a yawn as he tried to stretch out every part of his body without letting go of his hold on Riku. Then he curled around Riku as much as possible. Riku smiled as it made him picture Sora as a giant cat, warm and affectionate, always seeking physical contact.

“Good morning,” he whispered hoarsely, his throat dry with heat and sudden emotions.

Sora drew back and shifted down the bed until they were eye to eye. Riku's heart did a little flutter as they just looked at each other for long moments. Sora blinked at him, struggling to keep his eyes open, and though he wasn't smiling, he looked… different. Calmer.

“How are you feeling?” Riku asked carefully, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

“I'm f—" Sora cut himself off with a little wince. 

It should have been painful, maybe. Instead, Riku felt a surge of pride.

“You're not fine,” he said softly, safe in their little bubble. “And that's okay.”

Sora shook his head minutely. “I'm...a little better?”

“That's good.”

“Thank you,” Sora whispered.

Riku tried another smile, and it felt strange, his facial muscles felt tense and stiff from disuse, but it was worth it for the way Sora's eyes went soft. And they were talking again. They had probably said more words to each other last night and this morning than the entire last week combined.

“Do you really think we have enough munny to buy a house?” Sora asked, whispering in the small space between their faces, and Riku could feel the huffs of air flowing across his lips and jaw.

“Yeah,” Riku said, giving in to the urge to run his knuckles down Sora's cheek. “Are you up to leaving the bed to go and find out?”

There was a long pause before Sora nodded.

Riku's old clothes fit Sora perfectly now, and Riku handed him a pair of yellow shorts and a t-shirt the colour of his eyes. Riku dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, the only other set of clothes he owned that fit. His usual travelling clothes, the darkness-repelling clothes that the good faeries had made for him, were on his desk chair where he'd put them last night. It was hard to look at them. There was a tear in the corner of the jacket where a pair of Air Soldiers had rushed into him, and two of the belts around a trouser leg were torn from one of Ansems's well-timed strikes. There was no point to have them out if he wasn't going to wear them. He reached out to put them back into his travel bag, his fingers brushing against the familiar fabric and— 

Flashes careened through his mind, and suddenly he was back in the midst of battle. Ripping. Tearing. Being held down. Lasers coming straight for him. Hot tears in his eyes, pain all over his body. The smell of darkness and blood, mingled together. 

“Riku...?”

Sora knocked out of the sky, crashing into the gravel with the force of a comet...

“Riku!”

Sora's distressed voice brought him back into the moment, and he stuffed the jacket and the trousers back into his travel bag, out of sight.

“I'm alright,” he said automatically, his default response.

“You're not,” Sora said softly.

Riku sighed and pressed his lips together. It had been...easy to not be alright back in the tower, when he didn't have to be strong and handle things. But now, he had to be alright. He had to be strong because he had things to take care of.

“I'm alright,” he repeated, deliberately not meeting Sora's eyes.

After visits to the bank and the real estate office, they learned that the munny in Riku's account was, indeed, enough to buy a house. 

The real estate agent had only briefly raised one eyebrow before his face smoothed over again as he took out a few brochures from a cabinet and asked them about their wishes.

Riku understood that they probably didn't get two teenage boys looking for a house in here every day, and he appreciated the guy not mentioning this, just as he appreciated the lack of small talk. It was nice when people just got down to business. The world would be so much simpler if everyone did this.

“Somewhere secluded,” Riku said.

“Somewhere safe,” Sora said.

“And a place we can move into as soon as possible.”

The agent's squint was barely noticeable, and he opened his mouth as if to ask for clarification. But then his gaze dropped to the way Sora was clinging to Riku's hand almost painfully, their hands intertwined in Riku's lap, and he closed his mouth again.

He nodded. “I think I know just the place.”

The brochure he showed them was for a tiny house on one of the smaller islands not too far from the main one. The house was the only building on that particular island, a wooden structure built over fifty years ago by a man who had died of old age sometime last year. He didn't have any relatives to inherit the house, so it had passed to the city council to try and sell. 

It was a little dated, there was just one bedroom upstairs and there was a world of fixing up to do. However, there was some sparse furniture that came with the house, which would be good, since he and Sora didn't really have anything beyond the things in their weekend bags. And it was a house.

Riku could learn to fix up a house. Probably. He'd learned things in life that were a lot harder than fixing a house. And well, if it was a little ways away from everything... The fewer people they had around, the better.

But... Riku noticed one thing that might be a problem: the number of bedrooms.

It wasn't as if they hadn't been sleeping in one bed every time they'd both been at the tower ever since… the Mark of Mastery exam, really, but— 

When he turned to look at Sora, Sora was looking back with shining eyes, nearly dreamy in their innocence.

“Can you…give us a minute, please?” Riku turned towards the agent.

“Of course.”

“There's only one bedroom,” Riku said slowly after the man had left the room. His face was directed at the brochure on the desk and the pen neatly laid beside it.

With a huffed sound suspiciously close to a laugh, Sora replied. “As if we'd be sleeping in separate rooms anyway.”

Riku blinked twice, then inclined his head slightly. Leave it to Sora to make it sound so simple.

Later that morning, the real estate agent took them out on his motorboat. Riku took one look at the place and knew this was what they needed. It was secluded, surrounded by palms and paopu trees, and though the red paint was peeling, showing the bare woodwork underneath, and the roof had a weak spot that would need to be fixed sooner rather than later, it felt like home. 

Inside, there was a small hallway leading into a living room with an open kitchen. The bathroom and the bedroom were upstairs, a little dated and fairly modest, but both Sora and Riku were used to lesser places to sleep and bathe. They'd make do.

Throughout the tour, it was clear the realtor was trying to sell this place. Riku surmised it must have been on the market for a while. 

"I know the lack of walking bridges and ferries is a little off-putting, but you are hooked up to the mainland electrical grid. The old man also installed a generator to help out during the rainy season. And you'll have the island to yourself! The property was grandfathered in before the island was turned into a nature preserve. It's a little bit of a fixer-upper but—"

Riku tuned him out and looked at Sora. Sora's eyes were wide and bright, his cheeks reddened from being in the sun for too long already. When he noticed Riku staring, he nodded quietly, spiky hair bobbing up and down slightly.

“We'll take it,” Riku said.

The papers were signed that afternoon. It felt strangely satisfactory, as if they were taking some form of control over their lives again. And Riku knew it was a big step, knew buying a house should probably feel like a life-changing moment, but compared to the things he'd done over the past years… This was so tame it was almost painful.

He just wished his mother would see it like this.

“Me and Sora saved the world,” Riku said with a sigh he couldn't hold back. “I'm not a kid anymore. We aren't too young for anything anymore.”

He wondered briefly why he was even having this conversation. He should have just packed up his things and left with a note. It wasn’t as if she really cared. She probably only cared about what the neighbours would say now that he had showed up for a night and took off once again the next day. Going to live somewhere else. With another boy.

"Don't leave me again..." Suddenly, the harshness was gone from her voice, although the melodrama it was replaced with was possibly even worse. He'd heard it before; he knew it wasn't genuine.

"The house isn't far from here. I can still come and visit. If you want.” He wasn’t sure why he was offering, trying to make her feel better when this should have been about him. About him and Sora. “We're moving in this afternoon."

Next to him, Sora had started to tremble. Without really consciously thinking about it, Riku reached out and laced their fingers together. Sora let out a long breath and the trembling stopped.

His mother's eyes narrowed as her gaze dropped to their joint hands.

“So, this is why you're leaving.”

Riku winced as if he'd been slapped.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he responded curtly, but clearly that was the wrong thing to say.

“I've always known you were different,” she spat out. Riku shifted his gaze to look off to a spot behind her left shoulder. Through the window, he could see a pair of sparrows flying around each other in the garden. “You never fit in anywhere. I used to think it was my fault.”

Riku felt himself close off mentally, felt his consciousness disengaging from the situation, and vaguely he wondered how bad-mannered it would be to turn around and just leave the room. But the responsible part of him told him he still needed to pack things from upstairs, and if he left now, she'd just follow him up to his bedroom to finish the conversation. 

Outside, the sparrows were still flying, dancing, around each other, oblivious to the boy inside watching them. They looked happy. It must be nice, to be so free.

“You never talked about girls. Not even that nice red-haired girl you always hung out with. She would have been perfect for you, Riku. But you only ever had eyes for him.”

“Mom, please—"

“You're not denying it. ”

"No,” he snapped. He hated it when he lost his temper around her because that meant that she'd won. “You're right. I'm gay. And there's nothing you can do about it.”

With his heart in his throat and his eyes narrowed into slits, he glared as she fell silent with a sickeningly triumphant look on her face.

After long moments of silence, Riku shook his head and for the second time in as many days, he pulled Sora from a room because he didn't know how else to handle the situation. It felt like running again. Some adult he was.

Once upstairs, Sora let go of his hand and sat cross-legged on Riku's bed while Riku tensely moved around the room, collecting all the things he wanted to pack and dumping them on his desk: his books, a blanket, a set of white towels. He couldn't take any of the clothes, and he realised with a sigh that he would probably need to go clothes shopping.

His heart was still racing, but now for entirely different reasons. He felt Sora’s gaze on him as he moved his desk chair over to his closet to grab the large suitcase from on top. Felt Sora’s gaze, still, as he angrily grabbed the items from the desk to put in the suitcase, the towels he'd taken unfolding in his haste.

With a sigh, Riku briefly considered just shoving everything haphazardly into the suitcase, but even in his current state of mind, that went against everything inside of him. He sighed deeply and set about refolding the towel in his grasp.

He was too distracted to think clearly. And...Sora still hadn't said anything. But Sora hadn't really said much all day, most of their communication beyond their whispered conversation under the covers this morning had been non-verbal. So should he speak up? Ask Sora if… If— But before he had figured out an answer to this question, Sora spoke up himself.

“Are you really gay?”

Riku paused with the towel between his tightened fingers. He bowed his head, staring unseeingly at the suitcase on the floor, tugging the soft fabric against his chest.

“Yeah,” he exhaled miserably. “I understand if…"

He turned around, forcing himself to meet Sora's eyes. Sora deserved that, at least.

“I understand if this changes everything...”

The house only had one bedroom. Sora had said that was okay, but that was before… Before…

“No, it doesn't change anything,” Sora said determinedly. “I kind of… I thought you might be.”

Riku's eyes widened. “What?”

“I'm sorry… What your mom said was really out of line. But she was right about one thing. You never talk about girls. Not like the other guys at school did.”

Riku paused. “I never really talk about boys either.”

Mostly, Riku figured, that was because there had never really been any other boys he'd wanted to look at, or talk about. He'd tried, of course. Not lately, but back when he was thirteen, fourteen, he really had tried. It would have been better, easier, if it had been anyone but Sora.

Sora smiled sadly. “I guess. But then. We haven’t really talked much about anything other than Heartless and keyblades lately, have we?”

“No…"

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

“It's not that I didn't want to tell you…" Riku sighed and sat down on the desk chair still in front of the closet, a safe distance away from Sora. That made it easier to have this conversation. “It's not a secret. I'm not...ashamed of it. Not anymore.”

“That's good,” Sora mumbled softly.

“There was just never the right time. Whenever we only had a day together before one of us had to leave again, I didn't just wanna dump it on you out of the blue.”

“You're not…" Sora paused, evidently searching for the right words. “You're not dumping anything on me. I want you to talk to me. You always listen when I talk to you. Let me do the same for you.”

Riku looked away at the crumbled towel in his hands. There was more to say, of course. He didn't miss the way Sora had picked up on the gay part, but not the him part. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Riku… I have always admired how strong you are.”

Riku froze for a long moment, before shaking his head. “I'm not strong.”

“You are,” Sora said firmly, and from the corner of his eye, Riku saw him unfolding his legs to set his feet down on the carpet. “You're the strongest person I know.”

“Sora, maybe I used to have the strength to— But now... I can't even take away your nightmares anymore. I should be able to protect you from them, but I can't even do that.”

“You've done so much for me, Riku. You're always doing so much for me. You took us back here when I didn't know what to do. You bought us a house.” There was a long pause, as both of them navigated this big gap where there link used to be. It felt like a physical hole in Riku's chest. Finally, Sora spoke up again. “We're still here, Riku. It's okay.”

“It's not okay,” Riku whispered at the towel in his lap. “I don't know how to fix this.”

“Me neither,” Sora said, “But the link isn't broken. It's just weakened. It's there, Riku, I can still feel it.”

It was so Sora, that even when he was hurting so much, he was still trying to comfort Riku. Sora was always thinking of others, how other people felt, how to save other people.

Riku sighed and looked up. His eyes widened at the soft look on Sora's face. Then suddenly, Sora moved so fast off the bed that Riku barely had time to open his arms and drop the towel to the floor before Sora launched himself at the chair. It was a good thing that the back of the chair was against the closet, or they would surely have toppled over as Sora all but tumbled onto his lap, hugging him so tightly as if they were saying goodbye, forever.

The very thought caused Riku's heart to skip a beat in fear, and he welcomed Sora's weight, instinctively wrapping his arms around him. With another skipped heartbeat he realised Sora was sobbing, his whole body jerking against Riku’s when he took a breath, the tears soaking through Riku's shirt.

Sora always picked up on other people's emotions, always more in tune with other people around him than with himself.

Hot tears against his neck, warm hands pressed between his shoulder blades, yet Riku felt alive in a way he hadn't felt in weeks.

“I love you, Riku,” Sora gasped wetly into his neck, and Riku froze again, before pulling them closer together. He knew Sora didn't mean the words like that, but that was okay. It was good enough. It always would be.

What a strange word, love. It was friendship and devotion and respect and yearning all wrapped into one, and that one word was everything, yet not nearly enough.

And there was something that Riku could — should — have replied in this moment. But Sora was still crying, and Riku's chest echoed with his sobs, and what did you say to the boy who you held dear beyond anything in the world, who was everything, the light that Riku worshipped, the sun that Riku orbited, and the soul that Riku would do anything to protect.

There was love inside of him, he knew this. He felt it now, he remembered what it felt like. He carefully put it into the mental compartment where it had been before, where he would shelter it from the sadness and the darkness. And still, no words came.

So he just hugged Sora tighter and prayed that Sora would understand.

After they pulled apart, Sora wiped his eyes on Riku's shirt, and Riku finished packing while Sora sat on the bed again, hugging Riku's pillow to his chest.

Riku couldn’t wait to leave this house behind, possibly forever. He had hoped for them to be able to sneak out, and they had managed to skip the three creaking steps on the stairs down that he still had memorised, but once in the hallway Riku accidentally banged the suitcase into the shoe cabinet. He winced, pausing for a long moment, hoping in vain that his mother hadn't heard that.

Then the hallway door opened, and she appeared in the doorframe. Against the light filtering in from the living room behind her, it was hard to see the expression on her face. Sora hid behind Riku, and Riku automatically held out a hand to the side, as if to physically shelter Sora a little better.

The moment seemed to go on forever, both of them standing there unmoving. 

Then, in a strange turn of events, she seemed to deflate and her shoulders hunched forwards. She took a few steps towards Riku and Sora, and Riku felt himself tense up, and in return felt Sora stiffen behind him. 

But then—

“I'm sorry, Riku.”

He blinked, his mind suddenly blank.

“I know I can't stop you. I wished I… But—" She shook her head. “Please visit from time to time.”

Slowly, Riku nodded, but then found his muscles freezing up once again when she leaned in to wrap her arms around him in some sort of stiff, awkward hug goodbye. But when she pulled away and brushed a hand across his hair, he did feel a little lighter. When one thing ended, another began.

“I have something for you. Wait here a second.” She went back into the living room, and when she returned, there was a large shopping bag in her hands. “These are for you.”

Dumbly, Riku took the bag, glancing inside for a moment to find several shirts and sweatpants like what he was wearing now.

“I know your old clothes no longer fit and... I'm not even sure what kind of style you wear anymore. Or what your size is. But hopefully, these can tie you over until you can shop for yourself?" 

Riku nodded, still staring at the shopping bag.

“Take care, Riku.”

“Yeah. Bye, mom.”

Sora still had the boat his father had built him, and they used it to row themselves, a large bag of groceries, a piece of canvas for the roof, a DIY kit, and two suitcases that contained their whole lives over to the house. Their house. 

Sora's parents had come to see them off on the beach, his mother tearful but proud, his father quiet and reserved. Both of them a little sad, but comforting in their kindness as they hugged Sora goodbye for long moments, and then turned to Riku and hugged him just as long.

Riku was grateful that at least Sora's parents accepted their decision, especially considering how fast this had all gone. He knew it was a lot to ask. If Sora's parents had disapproved of Sora moving into a house with Riku, well… Riku was glad he didn’t have to think about what would have happened then. That was a choice he didn't want Sora to make.

“Take care of yourself, sweetie,” Sora’s mom said, giving Sora another hug.

“Mom…"

“Hush. I know you can. I know you’ve done this for the past three years.” She ruffled his hair as Sora tried to duck behind Riku’s frame. “Just, indulge me a little here, okay?”

“Okay,” Sora said seriously, coming out from behind Riku to stand by his side again. Riku didn't miss how he stood just a little bit too close, their shoulders brushing. He could probably pretend the blush on his cheeks was the beginnings of sunburn, having spent too much time in places where no sun ever shone over the past months.

“We know this will be good for you,” Sora's mom said gently. “Just, remember we’re only an island away, okay? Don’t hesitate to ask us for anything you need.”

“We'll bring over food every once in a while, if you want,” Sora's dad added. “And if you need to know anything about fixing up the house, you can always ask me, okay?"

Riku nodded, suddenly overwhelmed. “Thank you.”

“This is for you.” Sora’s dad rummaged through the large shopping bag they'd brought and handed Riku a large orange book with the words ‘Ultimate Guide to Home Repair and Improvement’ on the cover.

Next to him, Sora's eyes were bright with tears, but Riku knew they weren't sad tears, not this time.

“And here's a DIY maintenance kit, it has most of the tools you'll need.” Sora's mom smiled affectionately as Sora packed up the kit and the book in the boat with their other possessions.

“Take care, you two,” Sora dad said warmly, and after Riku and Sora pushed off the boat, Sora's parents remained on the beach to watch them go for the entire twenty minutes that it took them to row over, Sora pausing every once in a while to turn back and wave both his arms above his head.

By the time they reached the little dock next to the house — their house — the sun had reached the horizon, and the dusk sky was streaked with yellow and orange cirrus clouds. In the twilight, they hauled their stuff from the boat to the front door, and Riku wondered if it would sink in any time soon, the fact that they were here. They were safe and alive and everything had gone exactly as he had wanted for once in his life.

Once everything was set on the porch, Riku paused, so Sora paused next to him.

“We're really doing this, huh?” Riku mumbled.

There was a trace of ripe citrus fruits in the air, combined with the salted tinge of the ocean and that particular smell of skin that had turned a little sweaty in the heat of the sun. 

He watched as Sora ran his hands over the cracked paint of the window frames.

“Someone really built this house,” Sora said softly, carefully, brushing gentle fingers from the window to the walls. A hand flat against the hand-smoothed logs, a long pause, and when he turned to look at Riku, his face was wistful and full of wonder. 

Riku hummed in agreement. “And now we get to live here.”

Sora had stopped smiling ever since Riku had told him that he shouldn't smile when he wasn't really happy, but Riku knew when he went from really sad to just a little sad. And right now, Sora was just a little sad.

Riku wondered if the fact that he knew this, that he could still feel this subtle shift in Sora's feelings, meant that the dream eater link had grown a little stronger now. Maybe if he could reorder all the emotions inside of him enough, if he could protect this feeling enough, rekindle it, if he could love Sora enough, he could fix the link again.

There was a lot to do around the house, Riku realised after they had temporarily set all their things down in the living room. Though the place had been kept relatively clean by the real estate office, and there was enough furniture for their basic needs (dining table, chairs, couch, bed, even some pots and pans, and some kitchen utensils), the roof was an issue, the entire place would need a paint job and some of the woodwork really needed replacing.

The thought of starting anywhere was...too much, though, so Riku blocked it out for now. First things first.

Sora made sandwiches for dinner while Riku carried their suitcases up to the bedroom and made the double bed, white sheets against the dark oak of the bed frame. The room was spacious enough, he noticed when he turned away from the bed. If Sora wanted, they could buy a second bed, so they wouldn't have to share. Or maybe he could make one. 

If Sora wanted.

When he returned to the kitchen he didn't miss the way Sora's gaze immediately snapped to him, and the way his shoulders relaxed when he saw Riku standing in the doorway.

“You're back,” he said before snapping his mouth shut, and Riku caught a hint of embarrassment on his face before Sora whipped his head back around towards the glasses of water on the kitchen counter. He bowed his head, and Riku saw the tremor run through him.

It was second nature, the way Riku went to him and wrapped his arms around Sora's shoulders from behind. With a choked off breath, Sora melted into his embrace, all embarrassment gone, nothing left in his body but sobs and weariness. 

“I'm here,” Riku said, burying his face in Sora's spikes until Sora calmed down.

They ate in silence, lost in their respective thoughts. When Sora fell asleep at the kitchen table, Riku lifted him off the chair and carried him up the stairs. Sora's body was soft and warm, and so small against his chest. Riku could lift him without any real effort, and he smiled, actually smiled, when Sora turned his head and sleepily nuzzled into his shirt, mumbling little nonsense words as he pressed closer subconsciously.

Sora may not love him like Riku loved him, but as long as they had this, Riku didn't need anything more. He would never ask for anything more.

He tucked Sora underneath the covers, smoothing the dark bangs away from his forehead, smiling again at the way Sora curled onto his side, one hand gripping the covers, the other one slipping beneath the pillow. It had been a long and emotional day. But though Riku was tired as well, he didn't get into bed yet. Instead, he moved over to the window. 

There was a musty smell in the room, but it wasn't a bad kind of musty. It was old wood and antiquity and beeswax. It didn't smell like anything Riku had smelled before, and that was good. That meant there were no memories tied to the smell.

In the moonlight, he could clearly see the paopu tree outside the window, its leaves nearly glowing silver. Beyond the garden and the trees, he could make out the main island's lights in the distance. They seemed so far away, yet so close at the same time. He hadn't told his mother where the house was, and she hadn't asked. She could easily find out if she wanted, but Riku had a feeling that she would keep her distance. At the same time, the main island was close enough that Sora would be close to his parents. It was comforting in a way, to know they wouldn't be completely alone.

He stood at the window for a long time, watching the clouds drift past the moon, carefully counting Sora's even breaths until he heard them becoming less regular. When Sora moaned, and the sheets rustled, he jerked away from the window to rush over to the bed. 

Sora was trembling, and Riku brushed away sweaty bangs from a clammy forehead. When he slipped under the covers behind Sora, his left arm automatically curled around Sora's stomach.

“Riku?” came a muffled, sleepy voice.

“I'm here,” he answered.

There was a long silence, and Riku thought Sora had fallen back asleep, but then Sora twisted in his arms, shifting onto his back. Dark eyes found his, and Riku tightened his grip around him.

“Don't leave me,” Sora whispered, voice fragile and intimate in the darkness.

“Never,” Riku answered. 

They looked at each other, just breathing. Sora's eyes were restless, darting every which way, before coming to set on Riku's.

Riku suddenly swallowed heavily, and he glanced away. Sora may not want him to leave his life, but sooner or later he might want Riku to leave his bed. Maybe Sora wouldn't always need Riku to hold him at night.

"I just… If you want... I'm pretty sure we could fit a second bed in here? Maybe against the wall? Or... maybe under the win—" Riku cut himself off when he saw Sora's expression.

His eyes were wide in alarm. “W-Why?” 

“Wouldn't you…feel more comfortable—"

“No,” Sora said, his bottom lip jutting out. Riku was sure that if Sora had been more like himself, he would have been pouting for real. 

Sora uncurled his hands from the covers and slipped one arm over Riku's chest and one digging between Riku and the mattress to slide under Riku's waist, encircling him. The touch was desperate, clingy, and Riku felt a wave of sadness crash over him. He remembered vividly what it felt like when Sora had gone to make tea and he hadn't been gone for half an hour before Riku had panicked.

If Sora felt the same…

Suddenly he realised that Sora did feel the same. He remembered Sora clinging to him in a dark and damp hallway, because Riku had been in the shower for longer than five minutes...

He went when Sora tugged and tugged and tugged, letting himself be maneuvered to Sora's wishes, pliant in Sora's hands. For a moment, he hovered when he was almost on top of Sora, afraid to crush Sora's smaller from, but Sora put his hands flat against his shoulder blades and pulled with remarkable strength. Riku collapsed, one arm on each side of Sora's chest, his head just above Sora's on the pillow.

Riku barely let himself hope, lost in the sweetness that was Sora’s vanilla-grapefruit-vegetable-smell, his rapid breaths so close to his ear, the way their bodies were touching everywhere. But Sora's body language didn't really leave any space for interpretation. And still...

“I don't want a second bed.”

Riku inhaled sharply. 

He wrapped his arms around Sora's shoulders, fully letting himself sink into the soft and warm body underneath him. Sora's sigh was pleased as Riku completely shielded him from the rest of the world.

And Riku relaxed. This was… Was this what happiness felt like? Sora, who still touched him and hugged him, who had really meant it when he said that Riku being gay didn't change anything…?

Riku slept. Longer than before, probably, even though it wasn't particularly well. Every time Sora woke, Riku woke, because Sora would be shaking against him, kicking out in his nightmares. The dream eater part of Riku reached and reached for a link that was broken, and he didn't find a way in. Sometimes the nightmares passed without Sora waking up. Sometimes they woke him up, crying, gasping for breath, and unable to talk. Riku would just hold him tighter, whispering it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, until Sora fell back asleep, and Riku turned unseeing eyes to the ceiling.

Come morning, there was a heaviness in Riku's body that he had never felt before.

The thought of doing anything in the house was too much.

So instead of thinking about everything that still needed to be done, Riku watched the dust particles floating in the golden streaks of sunlight coming in through the open windows.

When he turned to look at Sora, he didn't need to ask to know Sora felt the same. They stayed in bed until noon, when the sun, high in the sky, illuminated their entire bedroom and the need for a bathroom run and a sip of water became too large. Riku's throat was parched, yet the idea of food made his stomach turn in on itself.

Actually, almost every thought made his stomach turn in on itself.

He vaguely realised that what he really needed to do was fix the worst of the weak spot on the roof. It wasn't raining now, and it was early summer, so the chances of rain weren't that high, but it would just be their luck if a thunderstorm passed the islands tomorrow and the roof hadn't been fixed properly. So after they got up, Riku climbed onto the roof and settled down the piece of canvas and a large piece of plastic with staples. 

And then, after he got back down and went back inside, everything suddenly seemed to...stop. Sora was placing books in the bookcase in the living room, but Riku watched him do it as if he was watching a movie, weirdly detached from the scene in front of him.

It was like now that they were here, Sora was safe, he could…let go.

He sat down on the couch and turned his head stared out the window living room window. He felt wrong, like an old set of clothes that no longer fit, worn-out and too small for his body. He glanced at Sora, who was carefully categorising all the books in the bookcase by colour. He had started with red, moved on to orange and he was now picking out all the yellow books from the pile.

It should have made him smile, maybe. It should have made him say something. But he was so tired, and even smiling or talking seemed like an impossible task.

Then Sora looked over, and Riku felt bad, but all he could do was lean back against the couch cushions and stare up at the ceiling. 

All of a sudden, he was back in the Realm of Darkness. Aqua with yellow eyes and bleached hair, her dress darkened and tattered. Darkness seeping out of her every pore. The smell of darkness, the rush of the Demon Tide swirling past him. The hollow ring of metal on metal. 

Riku closed his eyes, but the images kept coming.

All that's left in my heart is misery and despair.

Distantly, he heard Sora’s socked feet against the wooden floor. Little pad-pad-pad noises that barely registered until there was a warm weight in his lap.

They stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, Sora lapsed into a story, and Riku realised vaguely that Sora was reading to him from one of the books. Something about a knight in training, a prince that needed an escort across realms. It was hard to focus, and he drifted in and out, so he didn't get any of the plot, but hearing Sora's voice was nice.

Sometime later, Sora made chicken soup, and Riku liked chicken soup, so he ate even though he wasn't hungry, and he drank the glasses of water the Sora got him from the kitchen, even though he wasn't thirsty.

It took four days for Riku to start feeling like himself again. He spent most of them on the couch, not doing anything in particular but watching Sora move about the house, never out of sight for long. After the first day, Sora just took it for a fact that Riku wasn't speaking, and he filled the silence on his own. Or sometimes not at all. Both were nice.

The best part was when Sora curled up in his lap and read to him. Sometimes he would make up his own stories, about gnomes and elves and about a princess kissing a frog and turning into a frog herself. Sora's voice was animated in a way that Riku had missed. He recognised that Sora carefully avoided any story that contained any sort of swordplay or fighting monsters, and for that, he was glad.

Sometime during the second day, Sora left Riku on the couch to get something from upstairs. It was two hundred and fifty-six seconds before he returned. When Riku looked at him, and the stuffed animals he was clutching in his arms, he was hit with a flash of a memory. A good memory, childhood stories of epic journeys, a toy lion and a wolf that did everything together. Sora put the wolf in his arms, and Riku clutched the toy to his chest. 

The next day, Sora said. “I'm glad you're not pretending to be alright. You told me not to pretend to feel anything I wasn't actually feeling. You need to do the same.”

And Riku didn't know if that made him happy or sad.

On the fourth day, Riku woke up to Sora's eyes, looking at him peacefully. There hadn't been as many nightmares tonight, and for some reason, he felt like maybe today, the heaviness inside of him had lightened enough that he might try and leave the house. This night had given him more sleep than just an hour of fitful dozing interspersed with hours of wakefulness and staring at the ceiling. It was surprising how nice it felt.

So after breakfast, they made sandwiches and put a spray of bug repellant and bottle of sunscreen in a backpack, before setting off to explore the island. Their island. Technically it wasn't their land, of course, it was a nature preserve. But since no one else lived there, Riku could very well pretend it was all for them.

They walked across the narrow beach, Sora barefoot through the shallow seawater, Riku across the packed sand by the shore. The beach merged into grasslands, and then into a patch of trees so large it might be called an actual forest. Riku was surprised to find a small pool in the middle of the island, surrounded by trees. There was a grassy strip there that was perfect for having a picnic, so that's what they did.

There were ducks in the pool, a pair of them, with five little ducklings trailing behind, little downy yellow puffballs.

They spent all afternoon watching the ducklings swimming around in the water and the sun traversing across the sky.

When the sun began to set, Sora turned to him. 

“Do you think if we stay here on this island, forever, you’ll never need to die for me again?”

And Riku would, any time and any place, over and over. There was not a doubt in his mind. But while he knew that wasn’t what Sora wanted to hear, he also didn’t want to lie to him.

“I hope so, Sora…”

It was weird, hearing his own voice again.

Sora nodded and rested his head on Riku's shoulder as they watched the baby ducklings settle down for the night.

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, they didn't do any work on the house for that entire first month.

Riku made a list sometime after they moved in. They had to paint the walls, replace the lighting, update the plumbing, and really do a better job of fixing the roof. They needed new hardware in the kitchen, new fixtures in the bathroom, and the windows had really seen their best time as well. With summer only just starting, the old-drafty openings didn't require immediate attention, but at some point, the island would get hit by a tropical storm, and the openings would need to be sealed off by then. 

The list was on the kitchen table, next to the Ultimate Guide to Home Repair and Improvement. Every morning after getting up, Riku would stare at the list he had written. He had neatly numbered each item, ranked them in order of importance, and he would try to focus on them, trying to muster up the energy to start something. But the longer he stared, the more the letters blurred together and all he wanted was a nap and for this heavy feeling behind his eyelids to go away. 

Just thinking about doing anything on the list was hard. It was much easier to sit on the couch and read, or to walk around the entire island with Sora by his side, discovering new sights and plants and colours every time. They shared not-quite-smiling gazes whenever they found a new type of flower or saw a kingfisher dive rapidly into the lagoon, a flash of blue and yellow that Sora barely had time to point out before it disappeared in the crystal clear water. 

There was an exhaustion in Riku's bones that rest could not assuage, even though he had started sleeping a little better after moving in. He pictured their shared bedroom a little haven that the outside world could not touch. Every night he now slept a little deeper, a little longer, despite the fact that Sora still trashed against him once or multiple times in the middle of the night. Riku's legs were permanently covered in bruises from all the times Sora's knees or feet had connected with Riku's shins or thighs. He wore long sweatpants even in the summer heat because he didn't want Sora to see.

He knew sometimes after they went to bed, Sora closed his eyes but just didn't sleep for hours, the fear of nightmares stronger than the need to shut down his body and mind for a little. Riku stayed awake with him, using that time to try and mentally trace the remainder of the dream eater link. He searched tirelessly for ways to reach Sora's end, the point he had found effortlessly a thousand times before, the way to the drop, the nightmares, the place he wanted to be most of all. But every time he tried, he got stuck somewhere along the way, tangled up in little frays and darkened sideroads that either hadn't been there before or that he never noticed before.

But even when Sora did not sleep, he would still start crying at some point in the night when the memories burned strongest behind closed eyelids. Riku couldn't help him with the nightmares, his dream eater powers useless without a functioning link, but he also didn't know how to help Sora with these waking memories. 

“Do you want to tell me?” he would ask every night, but every night Sora would shake his head and press his lips together.

“I can't… Not yet.” Sora shifted closer to Riku. “… Hold me?”

So Riku did. He hummed lullabies he hadn't heard in years but still remembered. He whispered they were safe, it would be okay, Sora was alright, over and over until Riku almost believed the words himself, and they both finally fell asleep.

In a way, Riku was glad Sora had the outlet of tears. Sora told him crying made him feel a little better, like the weight inside his chest had lessened somewhat, even though he felt gross and exhausted after.

Riku wished he could cry, too, but the tears wouldn't come, no matter how much he wanted them to, no matter how wildly the emotions swirled inside of him. He didn't remember the last time he cried, not even before all of this. 

Thoughts of Sora helped. Out of all the emotions, he recognised the love he felt for Sora most. It was warm and overwhelmingly present, and Riku clutched it close to his heart every chance he got.

But he was scared. What if his ever-present fear and sadness turned out to be stronger than his love? What if they cast a shadow on his heart so powerful that the love faded and he was left searching for it the same way he searched for the end of the dream eater link? 

He couldn't even walk around the house without subconsciously keeping an eye on every entrance, and every time he closed his eyes for a few seconds, images of battles raged behind his eyelids: Demon Towers, nobodies with his face, Ansem himself. And if it wasn't the battles, it was images of Sora, doubting himself despite everything, so starved for recognition and affection that just a hand on his shoulder made him give Riku a watery smile.

Riku clenched his fist. He wanted to grab those darker feelings, lock them away into their own mental copartments. But they slipped away from his grasp whenever he got distracted, lost in his own head.

His mind felt like an out-of-tune orchestra going in every which direction, with his brain as the conductor, trying desperately to reign in all the thoughts and feelings and failing. It was…chaos. He couldn’t focus on any one feeling or thought because he was suddenly pulled in another direction when he got close to it.

On top of that, he still had those flashbacks that made him draw into himself, although thankfully they didn't last for days anymore. Sometimes only for a moment, when he forgot where he was until Sora grabbed his arm and called out his name. Sometimes Riku couldn't speak for hours. When that happened, Sora curled up in his lap and told him fairy tales with happy endings until his voice turned hoarse. Sora would drink honeyed tea for the rest of the day to sooth the way his throat felt like sandpaper, but he pushed away Riku's arm whenever Riku pressed his hand against Sora's mouth to try and stop him from talking.

Riku knew that if he would ever be able to feel like himself again, it would only be because of Sora. He just hoped he could do the same, be to Sora what Sora was to him: an always-there comfort even in his darkest hour.

Riku also knew that he didn't deserve Sora. Whenever he got silent and drew into himself like this, it was because he was overwhelmed by the sadness, the pain, the fear, every single regret. He thought he had come to terms with this regret, but that was before... Before Sora had almost died defeating one of the most powerful keyblade masters in existence. The weight of that, the idea that everything that had happened, had in some way happened because of him. Because he hadn't managed to contain the darkness inside of him.

Maybe it was guilt, the emotion he felt the most. The guilt was tangible and it was surprisingly easy to focus on amidst the chaos. It had been such a big part of his life over the past years. Yet even though the guilt dragged him down, made his body feel like it was sinking into the ocean, forced down by the weight of it, he always fought his way back up.

Guilt wasn't his driving force anymore, he knew that.

What he did for Sora now wasn't just because he felt like he had to. He did it because he wanted to, with all of his heart. Because even if Sora was physically safe now, he wasn't alright. And every cell in Riku's body kept crying out for him to fix him, to help him, to protect him. There was something hollow inside of him, a gap he knew would only be filled when the link was fixed. But he didn't want to fix the link for himself, to make himself feel better. He wanted that for Sora.

So maybe. Maybe he could handle the guilt now. 

And he tried to neatly fit it back into its compartment, which helped a little.

Every few days, they rowed over to the main island for groceries or other errands. Some clothes and empty notebooks for Riku, comics for Sora, flowers and herbs to plant in the garden, tape rolls and tubes of super glue for some provisional fixes. 

It was weird. They used to travel to other galaxies, jumping between realms and diving into sleeping worlds. Sora had sailed across pirate-filled seas, and Riku had created and stepped through so many dark portals in his life he couldn't even begin to guess the number. Yet now, rowing twenty minutes to get to another island felt like the biggest undertaking they'd ever attempted. From the moment they set foot on land, Sora slipped his hand into Riku's and only let it go for the single minute it took to pack up their items in the check-out area.

People looked. Two boys holding hands while doing groceries was not a common sight on the Destiny Islands. Riku had enough energy left in him to glare at anyone who stared a little too long and thankfully, Sora didn't notice, more interested in determining if the mackerel in their shopping cart would taste better with thyme or parsley.

Sora had always been touchy-feely, but since the end of the war, he had gotten almost clingy. Riku didn't mind, far from it. The increased physical contact helped him as much as it did Sora, and some deep, protective part of him liked it that Sora clung to him, and every touch reassured and soothed some of the restlessness inside of him, too. He wished though… He wished the circumstances were different, that they could be holding hands not because Sora was scared, but because he wanted to...

There were butterflies, too, but he never quite figured out if they were anxious or ‘I love you’ butterflies. Maybe both.

After a week of everything being too much, Riku thought maybe it would help if he started writing down some of his thoughts, in the hopes of getting a better grip on them. 

And so, once they'd put the shopping away that afternoon, Riku took one of the empty notebooks and a pen and sat down at the kitchen table. Sora wordlessly sagged down on the chair next to him with his new comic book, one leg drawn underneath him, two elbows on the table, his head resting on his palms as he began to read.

Riku watched him for a few moments as he became engrossed in the comic, silently glad for the way Sora could distract himself. Sora always got a little less sad when he was distracted, able to focus on something that wasn't memories or the ever-present fatigue.

He turned back to the notebook and stared at the blank page in front of him. Even though his thoughts were racing, not a lot of words came to him, and for a moment he felt frustrated, not knowing where to start amidst the chaos.

A dark shore, a chill all over his body, a longing in his chest. He had been so young, but his heart was so full of regrets and darkness, so much darkness, even after Ansem left his body. He was all alone, and he spent days, weeks maybe (time was unimportant there) in darkness, sitting there on the beach, looking out across nothing. Drowning in shame and guilt. Thoughts of failing Kairi, thoughts of allowing Maleficent to poison his mind, thoughts of slipping away from Mickey, mostly thoughts (feelings, so many feelings) of Sora. How could he ever begin to make things right with Sora...

Maybe he didn't have words to write it down. But he remembered all the times Naminé had drawn the things that made her sad or angry, and he grabbed the pencil from next to the to-do list and bent his head over the notebook. He slowly started doodling. Dark curved rock formations rising over an endless grey ocean. The line between sea and land all but invisible, just a different shade of darkness. A sombre, darkened beach and the only light source a weak orb in the distance. A tower of Shadows, racing towards him.

By the time he was finished, he felt slightly better. Especially when Sora shifted his chair closer and leaned on his shoulder to see what he had drawn. Sora's body was a warm, grounding presence that Riku could focus on, that made him forget the chill and the guilt, because Sora was here. Despite everything, Sora was still here.

Sora nodded, and he was so close that the movement made his hair brush across Riku's neck. The tickling sensation sent a tingle down Riku's spine, but it was a nice tingle. 

“This is really good…”

“Thanks,” Riku said, only a little distracted by the warm weight of Sora's arm across his back.

“I'd almost forgotten how well you can draw. You drew me pictures all the time when we were kids.”

“Yeah,” Riku murmured. “I remember. Castles and knights.”

“Wolves and lions,” Sora said softly, his breath a warm tickle against Riku's neck, and Riku tried and failed to suppress another shiver.

“I could do that again,” Riku said, turning the page of the notebook. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly feeling bashful. But drawing always felt like such an intimate activity. He had never not been able to pour his whole heart into something he drew.

“Can you—" Sora trailed off.

“Can I what?” Riku prompted gently, turning his head. Sora was so close like that, his eyes so so bright, and Riku's heart skipped a bit. He didn't lean back, though, and neither did Sora.

There was a long moment of silence as Sora's eyes went soft and just as bashful as Riku felt.

“Can you draw me something peaceful?” Sora's voice was shaking a little. “Like… Like the flowers we planted? Or the island lights in the distance?”

Riku's face softened, and he nodded. It felt like such an innocent request, but it made his heart do a little jump, and before he could stop himself, he raised his hand to Sora's cheek. Warm, soft skin under calloused fingers. Sora's eyes a little too bright. A tiny shiver running through him, just barely noticeable.

“Of course, Sora.”

It was nearly a month — twenty-nine days to be precise — before Sora smiled for the first time after moving in.

Riku had somehow figured that when Sora smiled again, it would be after some groundbreaking moment, like the first night without nightmares or the moment Riku managed to fix the dream eater link. Or maybe during some almost-romantic, sappy moment like a sunset while they sat side by side on the beach or planting flowers in the front yard together, their knees and hands soiled with dirt.

It wasn't.

These days after waking up in the morning, they often spent long moments just breathing together for a bit, basking in the new normalcy that was waking up in each other's arms on the wall side of the bed. Thankful to be here, together, despite everything. Coming down from a restless night, mentally preparing for another day.

For some reason, brushing their teeth together in the small bathroom down the hall had also become part of their morning ritual. Their bathroom was small, basic, and beige. There was a cramped beige shower stall that dripped water everywhere despite the faded shower curtain, a small nook for the unfortunately beige-colored toilet, and a small cracked mirror above a tiny beige sink. The tiny, 2 by 3-foot space was barely large enough for one person to brush their teeth comfortably, but he and Sora somehow managed to squeeze both their bodies around the sink. Despite the cramped quarters, Riku enjoyed their morning ritual.

That particular morning, twenty-nine days after moving in, Sora stood just a little bit closer to Riku than usual, their shoulders almost touching as they brushed their teeth in silence. When Riku finished brushing his teeth and turned to spit into the sink, he misjudged the distance between them, and his right elbow accidentally bashed against Sora's left.

“Oh—" He opened his mouth to say sorry, forgetting that it was still full of toothpaste, and nothing came out beyond a few white bubbles, dribbling down his chin onto his black t-shirt. He closed his mouth again, looking down at his shirt with a self-conscious frown until he looked up again and was met with…

Sora's smile.

And god, Riku didn't know how much he'd missed that smile until he saw it again. It was sparkling eyes and a crooked tilt to his lips, and when Riku felt his own face slip into an answering grin, Sora's mouth opened in a wider smile. Then it was toothpaste and a pink tongue and pearly teeth, and Riku's heart did this little peculiar fluttering thing it hadn't done in ages.

Sora bumped their shoulders together briefly, pressing his lips together to avoid more toothpaste from spilling out of his mouth, but he was still smiling, and Riku stopped breathing for a long moment. Then Sora bumped against his shoulder again and used Riku's moment of distraction to claim the sink to spit out his toothpaste first.

It was funny how such a little thing could change so much.

Before the day was over, Sora had smiled eight times. Riku knew because he counted and savoured every one of them. It happened over breakfast, when Riku put the last pain au chocolat on Sora's plate. It happened three more times when they were sitting on the old wooden rocking chairs on the porch, Sora with the orange home improvement book in his lap and Riku with his notebook against his drawn-up knees. They kept sneaking looks at each other whenever they thought the other wasn't looking back. But every once in awhile their eyes would meet, and Sora's face would soften and his mouth would curl up, and Riku's heart would skip a beat.

Sora's smile was even more special after what Riku had told Sora back at the Mysterious Tower. Riku knew Sora smiled now because he really meant it. It felt like the real thing, it was the real thing, and it sent butterflies into Riku's stomach every time.

The sixth time happened after their late lunch on the porch, when Sora got out of his rocking chair and threw the breadcrumbs from his plate into the garden, and the sparrows kept hopping closer and closer to the porch, eager for the free food that was offered. The sixth smile was as much sad as it was happy, because this time after he smiled, Sora's expression fell just as quickly, as if he suddenly realised he wasn't allowed to smile. As if he was only now remembering that he was supposed to feel sad instead, recovering from years of non-stop fighting and trauma.

Riku held out his hand for Sora to take, and Sora went to him, wriggled himself in the space between Riku and the armrest of the chair, and they watched the sparrows pick at the breadcrumbs in the grass together.

“It's okay, Sora,” he said. “Emotions are complicated. Sometimes you're happy and sad at the same time, and that's okay, too, you know?”

For years, Sora had been the one to tell Riku that he needed to express himself better, trying to get him to open up more. In an unexpected turn of events, Riku realised he had gotten better at being honest with himself about how he was feeling, even when the emotions were complicated and all over the place. Riku had never thought he could be the one to teach Sora about feelings after all these years, but he was glad for it. He was glad, too, when Sora curled tighter against him and wrapped an arm around Riku's waist.

“Why? Why do I feel like I won't ever really be really happy anymore?”

“You will be,” Riku said, because they would be. “I promise.”

The seventh smile happened in the kitchen when they were preparing dinner, after Riku had cut up a bunch of tomatoes for the salad. He handed Sora the wooden cutting board so Sora could mix the tomatoes with the lettuce and sliced cucumbers and was rewarded by the flash of a smile.

The last smile of the day was before they fell asleep, right before Sora tucked his head underneath Riku's chin.

“Riku?” Sora said softly, his breath warm and moist against Riku's shirt. 

“Hmmm?”

“I think I'm ready to start working on the house tomorrow.”

“Okay, Sora.”

And so they did. The next morning, Riku stared at the list on the kitchen table, but this time, Sora stood by his side, tilting his head.

“You put them in order, right?”

Riku nodded, suddenly doubting himself.

“So," Sora leaner closer to the list, tracing the numbers with his finger. "Lighting first?”

“I guess...” Riku hesitated. “The book said that would help with the atmosphere in the house.”

“Hm," Sora said. "I like the atmosphere in the house."

“Me too,” Riku replied.

“So not the lighting then?”

“I don't know, Sora," Riku said doubtfully. "I've never fixed a house before.”

“Ah,” Sora said with a smile (number ten, because he'd smiled at Riku this morning in bed, too). “You're Riku. Come on, you can do anything you set your mind to.”

This was new, too. Riku felt himself blush, and he drew his lips together as he processed Sora's words. “So, what do you want to start with, then?”

“The kitchen,” Sora said without hesitation. “It'll make cooking even more enjoyable, don't you think?”

Riku nodded again, turning his head to look at the worn countertop and cabinets in the kitchen behind him, then sideways to smile at Sora. “Yeah, alright.”

Sora opened the Ultimate Guide to Home Repair and Improvement and flipped through it until he came to the chapter on kitchens.

“Look, I was thinking, we could make a new wooden countertop? And we can strip and sand down the kitchen cabinets and repaint them. Maybe light blue? And some new hardware would be nice… Oh, that one’s number five on your list. So we can move that up?”

Riku watched as Sora flipped through the book, looking at the glossy pictures of rich walnut cabinets, open shelving filled with glasses, jars and spices, elegant kitchen sinks, brushing his fingers carefully across the pages. Then he looked up again with smile number eleven.

“What do you think?”

Riku thought he would do anything Sora wanted him to, but he didn't say that. “Sounds good. Let's start small, though, okay? Cabinets first?” 

“Okay!”

Riku knew it already, of course, but he and Sora worked really well together. By unspoken agreement, they just started doing things at their own pace. They took off the cabinet doors and started working on them. Stripping and sanding down cabinets by hand was slow work, but having something so mundane to focus on was nice. And really, for the first time in a long time, there was no rush. No people to save, no worlds falling to darkness, no memories to restore. Just Riku, Sora, and a vision of a shiny new kitchen.

Was this what normal people did, people who didn't go around saving the world? It was...nice.

While they were working, neither of them brought up the idea of using magic or keyblades to do any part of the renovating. Not that Riku particularly thought that a keyblade would help with renovating a kitchen, but he hadn't really thought much about keyblades at all over the past month, and he wanted to keep it like that for now. The thought of summoning his made his chest clench uncomfortably. Not thinking about it was better.

They sanded down kitchen cabinets all morning until their arms ached. During a coffee break, seated at the kitchen table, Riku flipped through the book. He browsed information about types of paint and the best kinds of wood for countertops until he got to a page with lots of pictures of an old, olive-coloured fridge being sanded down and repainted.

Sora was sipping his coffee next to Riku. Sora didn't much like coffee, but he had decided he could try and learn to drink it for an energy boost if they were going to fix up the house for real now. The beverage he was drinking now was more milk and sugar with a splash of coffee, but he was drinking it anyway.

“Look, Riku!” Sora exclaimed, drawing the book closer and leaning closer to Riku so they could both read the step-by-step explanation. “We can sand down the fridge as well, then spray-paint it. It'll look just like new!”

“If I'd known coffee made you this enthusiastic about renovating the house, I should have given it to you weeks ago,” Riku said with a smile.

It was a lot easier to smile now that he knew there was a chance Sora would return them. He would have to start trying harder, make Sora smile so often that he finally lost count. He was only at fourteen now.

“It's the sugar,” Sora smiled. “I like sugar.”

After that first day of fixing up, they settled into a sort of rhythm. In the mornings they would do some work in the kitchen, in the afternoons they would either row over to the main island for shopping, or Sora would go swimming in the ocean while Riku watched from below the paopu tree. He shook his head minutely when Sora asked him to join him. Swimming meant taking off his shirt and trousers and showing Sora his scar and the bruises, and he wasn't ready for either. 

Sora didn't press, but went into the ocean alone and brought him back seashells, neatly laying them out in a row next to Riku's towel, pink and yellow and silver. Riku took them home and laid them across the windowsill until they became so numerous that he had to place them in jars instead.

Sometimes they just sought out the shade of the forest or the backyard. It was the middle of July, the hottest month on the islands, which made it uncomfortably hot even in the shade, the very air smouldering. It reminded Riku of long ago, when Sora's mom set up a little inflatable pool in the backyard, and they played with plastic toy boats for hours. They didn't have an inflatable pool now, but the air smelled the same as it did back then — sweet like the jasmine growing around the island and salty like the ocean breeze — and Sora smiled the same as back then whenever butterflies sat down on his comic or notebook. 

Sora had started a journal as well, although he was mostly using it to doodle shapes and absent-minded swirls in while he watched the hummingbirds flutter around the blooming hibiscus or while Riku listed all the things they could do with the living room once they finished the kitchen. He was thinking about paint colours, and maybe a new floor. Definitely a new couch.

Sora wanted to start a little vegetable patch in the backyard, so they bought a book on gardening at the bookstore. Sora read it all in two days and made a list of all the vegetables he wanted. The next time they rowed over, Sora picked out a bunch of seeds to sow: eggplant, tomatoes, peas and herbs, daisies and pansies of every colour. 

They sowed the seeds together and planted the flowers Riku had picked out across the edges of the backyard. Roses, mostly, because he liked the fact that even though roses were beautiful, their thorns made them strong enough to protect themselves.

All of these little things made it easier to breathe, sometimes.

Cooking together had also become a sort of a thing they did now. Either Sora would be the first to get up from the couch when it was time to make dinner, and he'd drag Riku with him to the kitchen, or sometimes Riku would close his notebook or the fantasy novel he was reading to make a headstart on cutting the vegetables while Sora finished reading his comic book chapter.

Riku had seen dozens of pictures of Sora cooking in the Twilight Town Bistro, but those had just been pictures. Seeing Sora cooking in real life was a lot better. Sora was good at coming up with recipes, and he liked experimenting with different flavours and herbs and spices, mixing up fish and shellfish and meat with the vegetables and starches that worked best together.

Riku just liked cutting up the vegetables in tiny pieces, focused on nothing but the tomatoes or zucchinis, the knife and the cutting board. Life became simple if you just had one task to focus on. He liked handing Sora stirring spoons or the salt shaker when Sora pointed at them. Over time, he became better at anticipating what Sora wanted, sometimes having the spoon in his hand before Sora would even have to ask for it.

That was one of the best parts.

Riku didn't mind what they ate, really. He wasn't that hungry nowadays, and years of eating whatever he could get his hands on had made him the opposite of a picky eater, but Sora would frown and pout a little if he was less than pleased with the end result.

Weeks passed, and every day, it became a little easier to breathe. His thoughts became a little less slippery, a little less out of tune. It was the little things that helped, like watching Sora taste his mango chicken curry and give a pleased little smile, or finally installing the new countertop and seeing Sora's face light up.

Sora was a little calmer as well, a little happier, and Riku had finally lost count of his smiles. Sora had stopped tracking Riku with his eyes every waking second and was able to spend more than a few minutes in another room without coming up to check on Riku.

Yet sometimes Riku would catch him in the middle of doing something — picking herbs from the garden, splitting logs, compiling a grocery list — only to stop and just stare off into the distance. Riku supposed that would never really go away, too many memories and too much pain for one person to process completely.

It happened today as well. Sora had gone downstairs to make scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, but when Riku entered the kitchen a few minutes later, Sora was staring out of the window, the smell of burnt toast thick in the air. 

Every day, Riku had gotten a little better at reading Sora again. Spending this much time together slowly rebuilt the easy way they used to be around each other. Physical contact made Sora feel better, so usually all Riku needed to do was to touch his shoulder or hug him, and the tension would flow right out of him. 

Wordlessly, he reached over to turn off the toaster and drew Sora into his arms from behind.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked when Sora turned around in his hold, wrapping his arms tightly around Riku's waist.

There was no answer, because Sora always hated telling someone no.

“What would make you feel better?” Riku asked instead.

Sora kept his face buried in Riku’s chest, breathing deeply. When Riku glanced down, he suddenly noticed…

“Are you wearing my t-shirt?”

Sora tensed and pressed himself even closer to Riku. 

“Hey,” Riku said, bringing up one hand, fingers easily trailing into Sora's hair, soft comforting strokes against his scalp. “It's okay.”

Without pulling back, Sora muttered, “It makes me feel better. It smells like you.”

“Oh, Sora…" Riku smiled and he was the one to pull back now, wanting to look Sora in the eye. His hands moved to cup Sora's jaw, his thumbs brushing over damp cheekbones. He kept smiling until Sora's deer-in-the-headlights turned a little bashful instead.

“What do I smell like?” Riku asked, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. It was...too intimate, too forward a question. He wanted to take it back, but the words hung in the space between them now, almost tangible, like moths fluttering around a room in search of an exit, and all Riku could do was wait with bated breath for Sora's reply. His thumbs stilled on Sora's cheeks.

He didn't have to wait long. 

“Like old books and wood. And something sweet, but a little tangy. Like oranges… Or paopu fruits…?” Sora trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. “Uhm… Yeah…” 

Riku hadn’t expected the answer to be as intimate as the question… It sent something warm into his heart, something secret and just for him, and then with a sudden jolt, the link between them surged. They let out matching gasps at the feeling, and Sora’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Did you feel—" Sora began.

“Was that—" Riku said simultaneously.

Part of Riku vibrated with the link, and without thinking, he tried to follow it like he had done a million times before, remembering what it had felt like over the past weeks. How weak and frail it was, how easy it was to get lost in the feeble traces of it. But it felt...alight now, like a forest trail that had been impossible to follow in the dark night suddenly illuminated by thousands of fireflies. Not as bright as the sun — not yet — but he felt it so strongly now, it was so much that he could cry, and he crushed Sora to his chest again, the inches between them too much space, he wanted him closer, always closer.

He would have to wait until Sora was asleep to test if he could drop into Sora's dreams again now, or if they needed more time, more moments, more love, but it was a start.

He laughed, unexpected and the sound foreign even to his own ears, but worth it, so worth it when they pulled apart after long minutes, and Sora’s smile was the brightest it had been in months.

They didn't do much work on the house that day. After breakfast, they took the opportunity to install their new copper-coloured light fixture above the kitchen table. It had been a gift from Sora's parents who had insisted they buy them something for their home, and Sora's mom had insisted this light fixture would go with anything. But where usually doing work in the house made Riku's thoughts focus, today he was all over the place.

And so was Sora, it wasn't hard to tell. Sora hadn't even had coffee today, but he was talking a million miles an hour and unable to sit still enough to fix their newly purchased hardware into the light blue cabinets. He was more like himself than Riku had seen him in a long time.

When Sora sighed for the two hundredth time and then accidentally hit his thumb with the hammer, Riku couldn't take it anymore. 

“Let's go outside and swim, huh?” he asked, taking the hammer from Sora, watching as Sora sucked his thumb into his mouth, tears in his eyes.

“Yeah… Will you…" Sora stopped himself, wiping at his eyes with his other hand.

“Will I what?”

“Swim with me?”

Sora was doing his best puppy dog eyes expression, wide, soft eyes and his head tilted to the right, his bottom lip just slightly jutted out. Riku sighed and turned his gaze to his lap for a second. He didn't want to disappoint Sora, he knew Sora wanted to swim in the ocean together as they had done so many times before, but...

“Sora…” He looked up again, which was a mistake. Sora was still giving him that look.

“Riku… Why not?” His voice was as soft as the look on his face. There was no judgement, no accusation there.

Riku pressed an involuntary hand against his side, against the scar, then curled the hand into a fist when he realised what he'd done. Sora had noticed, of course he had, and his expression fell for a brief second. Then it turned into a determined pout.

“I don't care,” Sora said, shaking his head. “I just wanna… I wanna…"

“I know,” Riku said, and he did, he really did, but he was so scared too, though of what, he couldn't really say.

“So can we? Please?” Sora reached out and took Riku's clenched hand between both of his. “It'd be just like when we were kids.”

Riku could feel his resolve draining away, like seawater from a pair of cupped hands, because Sora always did this to him, Sora always knew just what to say to get him to...

“Okay,” he whispered.

It was worth it for Sora's little yelp and his beaming smile. “Yes! I'll go and gather our things!” 

Sora didn’t mention the scar when Riku took off his shirt on the beach, didn’t so much as look at it, and Riku was thankful. Yet it didn't stop the shivers from running up and down his spine as Sora rubbed sunscreen over his back, over his sides, and finally over the scar. Sora's hands were almost too hot against his skin, and if Riku was completely honest with himself, the shivers probably had less to do with the scar and more to do with...other things.

The bruises on his legs were a different matter. Sora noticed those too, of course, and Riku held his breath as he watched Sora connect the dots, watched his eyes turn sad. He had known this would happen...

“I'm sorry…” Sora said, blinking too fast.

“No,” Riku said, reaching out a hand to Sora's bare shoulder, slick with sunscreen and sweat, and he inclined his head a little to meet Sora's gaze. “Don't be. I'm—”

Happy to do this for you. Happy to be this for you. That sounded stupid and probably wasn't what Sora wanted to hear.

“I'm alright.” I've endured much, much more for you, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

I love you… The words stuck in his throat. He wanted to say them so badly, but he couldn't.

Sora's eyes came up, and he shook his head fiercely. “I don't want you...to be in pain because of me.”

“I'm not in pain. The bruises barely hurt.” Riku took a step closer, his hand sliding towards Sora's neck, resting just below his ear. He could feel Sora's pulse there, strong and steady. 

“Really?” Sora's voice was small, a little hopeful. His lip stopped trembling.

“Really,” Riku said unwaveringly, and Sora nodded slowly in response.

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now,” Riku said, dropping his hand, trying for a small smile that Sora returned hesitantly. “Race you to the water?”

Surprisingly, at this offer of a competition, Sora's smile broadened into a grin, and he turned quickly, kicking up loose sand all around them as he set off. Riku was left staring for three whole seconds before his brain caught up, and he took off after him. 

But although Sora had always been faster at the start of a race, Riku was better at longer distances, longer legs and all, so he overtook Sora halfway down the beach and was still first into the water.

He turned around when he was up to his knees in the surf, a hand on his hip, totally prepared to smirk, but not prepared at all for Sora launching himself at Riku and tackling them both into the ocean.

Riku's back hit the water with a large splash, and he barely had enough time to suck in a breath and wrap his arms around Sora's waist before they both went under.

He came up sputtering and coughing, an indignant ‘Sora’ on his tongue, but Sora was sitting back in the water with a shit-eating grin on his face, his arms still around Riku's shoulders, tugging him forward a little and...oh that grin, Sora hadn't looked this happy in forever, and all it had taken was for Riku to stop feeling self-conscious... 

For a second, he paused to bask in that grin before he caught himself. Sora grinning meant that he thought he had won, and that wouldn't do. It was years of instinct that made it easy to rekindle the spark of competitiveness.

So Riku surged, kicking off against the ocean floor, tackling them both into shallower waters where they wouldn't go under. Sora was on his back below him against the wet sand, saltwater all around them, wet skin against skin, sand against his knees on either side of Sora's hips, but before Riku could think about the implications of that, Sora started laughing.

And Riku stopped breathing.

“I missed this,” Sora managed between hiccups of laughter.

Sora made a half-hearted attempt to flip them, hooking a leg around Riku's ankle, arching his back to pull him closer for leverage. Riku was still very much trying to figure out how to get oxygen back into his lungs, his brain wasn't really catching up fast enough, so even Sora's half-hearted attempt was enough to flip them.

Sora looked surprised at being the one pinning Riku to the wet sand once more, and he laughed again, clear and bright.

“Come on, Riku,” he leaned in, his eyes sparkling, his hair wet and dark and shining in the blazing August sunlight. “I thought you were—”

But by then, Riku's lungs had overridden his brain, and he gasped in a breath. With the new air in his lungs, he reached up to grab Sora's waist, pushing a little and Sora yelped as wet, sandy hands went to Riku's biceps to hold on as Riku flipped them over once more.

“You were saying?”

Sora's skin was wet and a little slippery against his own. Everywhere they touched Riku's body was tingling. Sora's eyes were wide as he continued to laugh, and the world suddenly seemed very, very bright again, and suddenly there was something light bouncing around eagerly in his stomach.

Riku kept smiling as Sora tried a few more times to flip them, but he was laughing too hard to really make an effort, so in the end, he collapsed against the sand with a huff. There was sand sticking to his hair, his forehead, and his brown bangs were floating gently around his head in the shallow water. Riku blinked. He was beautiful… 

His thoughts ground to a halt.

“Ugh, fine, you win,” Sora grumbled, but he was still smiling. “Now, lemme up.”

Sora had always been a cute kid, all earnest smiles and bright blue eyes and chubby cheeks. But he'd never thought of Sora as beautiful before…

“Riku…” Sora whined, pushing at his shoulders.

Riku somehow found the willpower to move to the side as Sora scrambled to a seating position. Riku leaned back on his hands, drawing up his knees, and dug his toes into the sand. Really, he thought, he shouldn't have been surprised that he kept falling more and more in love with Sora every day...

Next to each other in the shallow waters, they let their breathing return to normal, listening to the gentle lapses of the waves and feeling the ocean breeze across their skin. 

“I missed your laugh,” Riku said finally, quietly, his words directed at the ocean waves rolling to and fro around them.

When Sora turned to him, Riku lifted his head to meet his gaze. He shivered, despite the summer heat.

“Thank you...” Sora said simply.

They spent the rest of the day in the ocean, racing each other, collecting shells or just floating around in the water. Covered in sunscreen and seawater, completely wrapped up in their own world. It was… The same as when they were younger, yet different. Of course, there was the whole all the things we've done feeling hanging over them, but that wasn't all. Riku couldn't quite figure it out, but his eyes would lock with Sora's, and Sora would smile, and Riku's heart would flutter and yeah… That brought a whole new layer to everything.

Only when the sun was going down did they finally leave the water, the skin on their fingers all shrivelled, salt clinging to their bodies. Sora was all but shimmering in the orange glow of the setting sun, and Riku...couldn't take his eyes off him for long moments as he followed Sora back towards their towels on the beach, all tanned skin and a sparkle to his eyes that Riku hadn't seen in forever.

It was still hot — even at night the temperatures didn't really go down on the Destiny Islands in summer — so they laid down on their backs, hands behind their heads to watch the sun slowly disappear into the ocean. Riku's back felt raw and tender against the towel, and he knew it would turn bright red later (possibly already was). SPF 50 was not enough when he hadn't been in the sun for god knows how long.

There were no sounds apart from the waves lapping on the shore, the rustle of the leaves on the tree branches in the distance, Sora's breathing, deep and peaceful, a sound as comforting as any.

Riku closed his eyes, wondering if he could nap like this. Maybe if Sora fell asleep as well, he would be able to test the dream eater link… He felt himself slide towards sleep, remembering the feeling of Sora's wet skin against his, the sparkle in his eyes, the way he shook his head to brush wet bangs away from his face… But right when he hovered on the edge of sleep, Sora whispered his name, and he was pulled back.

“Riku...?” His voice was small and hesitant, and Riku didn't know what that meant. 

He made a comforting sound to spur Sora on. 

“How did you know you were gay?”

Riku's eyes shot open, his heart suddenly in his throat, and he turned his head. Sora wasn't looking at him, he was still staring at the sunset, but his cheeks were flushed with more than just sunburn and the orange-pink glow from the sun. Riku found himself full of questions. Where had this come from? How should respond? Why now?

But he knew why now. After all, Sora had been preoccupied with saving the worlds for years. He hadn't had any time to process his feelings, Riku knew that. The question didn't mean anything. It certainly didn't mean what his heart wanted it to mean. Maybe it wasn't even because of Sora only now having the time to comb through his feelings and turning to Riku for advice. Maybe he was just curious.

Riku breathed for long moments, gathering the words that were tumbling over each other in his head, looking at Sora, but not really seeing.

“I was fourteen when I first...thought about the word. And what it meant.” The moment Riku started talking, Sora turned his head towards him, and Riku almost stopped breathing at the captivated look on his face. Sora really wanted to know.

“I think I knew before then, but I couldn't really put it into words. I didn't really...think of it, before. It was just a part of me, I didn't really feel that it was different? But then when I got older…” he sighed. “Well, you know. The boys at school started talking about girls, and I never… I never knew what to say. I got angry, and it made me sad that I got angry, and it became this thing that I was afraid of. And then you and me stopped talking so much about...the things that mattered.”

Sora nodded, his eyes bright and shining in the final rays of the sun. The stars were coming out overhead, weak specks growing brighter as the last of the pink and orange hues slowly faded away.

“And then...the darkness. I struggled in the darkness, and I struggled with this part of me. Being gay felt like the darkness. I hated it, I hated how it made me feel, I prayed every day for it to go away, even though I didn't believe in whatever gods I was praying to.”

Riku paused, swallowing hard. The tightness in his throat made it hard to keep talking. He thought back to how he had felt when he was fifteen, how much he had wanted to be close to Sora, but hated being close to Sora at the same time. How confused he'd been, how Maleficent had used his confusion, twisted every good thing inside of him. How he'd let her...

Just as he felt himself slip down the memories, Sora reached out a hand, leaving it palm up on the warm sand between them. Riku didn't think, he just covered Sora's hand with his and squeezed, the gesture comforting and familiar.

“What made you...not hate it?” Sora asked, his voice soft like the lapping waves in the distance.

“When I overcame the darkness…” Riku swallowed. “That changed something inside of me, and suddenly being gay didn't feel so bad anymore.”

“You accepted it?”

“I accepted it when I learned to accept every part of me. The light and the darkness.”

“I'm glad…" Sora whispered. “I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you to help you.”

“Sora…" Riku squeezed his hand harder. “It's not your fault.”

“I could've been there for you. To talk to you.”

“Maybe... But I figured it out, in the end. I feel stronger for it. It's… It's part of me. And I'm proud of it? It gave me the strength to—" Riku paused. “To traverse the Realm of Darkness with Mickey.”

“I'm glad.” Sora smiled then, and even though Riku had lost count of the number of smiles, and even though it was now almost too dark to see his face, it made his heart do a few somersaults.

“Riku?”

“Yes, Sora?”

There was a long pause. So long that the sun finally disappeared into the ocean and it was just Sora and Riku and a blanket of stars. But then Sora spoke up again.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Oh… 

Riku was silent for a long time. He didn't want to lie, not even by omission, but this was a slippery slope, and his heart was hammering in his chest, so loud to his own ears that he wondered if Sora was also able to hear it as well.

And he couldn't lie to Sora, not even about this. They'd gotten this far, he hoped — he knew — that even if he told the truth, Sora wouldn’t leave him.

“Yeah," Riku said, licking his suddenly dry lips. “Yeah, I have.”

“Oh…” The look on Sora's face was unreadable in the faint starlight.

Riku braced himself for the follow-up question, but it never came. Long moments passed, but Sora didn't ask anything more, even though Riku could practically hear the wheels in his head turning.

He was grateful, because his heart was still racing, and he wasn't sure he was ready to confess to anything more. But at the same time, he knew that if Sora had asked who, he would have told him.

Chapter Text

Though Riku’s mouth was dry and his heart was racing, he couldn’t stop the soft smile from spreading over his face. The conversation they’d just had about being gay (and being in love) was one of the most personal conversations he'd ever had with Sora. But instead of making things awkward or weird between them, Riku felt as if he had trusted Sora with this big secret, and Sora had taken it carefully with both hands to hold it close and keep it safe.

They were both quiet afterwards, lying on their beach towels with their hands still clasped between them, staring up at the stars, each left to their own thoughts. An owl hooted faintly in the distance, and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass behind them was soothing.

Even though the most important secret was still not out there, in this moment, right now, Riku felt closer to Sora than he ever had. Someday he would want to tell Sora that the boy Riku was in love with was him, but he could wait. For now, this was enough.

Sora didn’t let go of his hand when they finally moved to pack up their stuff, not even when he bent down to grab his towel, t-shirt and the bottle of sunscreen in his other hand, and not even during their entire walk back towards the house. 

It was...familiar, holding Sora's hand. Comforting.

He just wished he could tell what Sora was thinking. Or he wished he were brave enough to ask. Sora was usually an open book, but when it came to this, Riku couldn’t figure out how to read him. Surely Sora had questions. Had he guessed that Riku was talking about him? Why hadn’t he asked him? 

Why couldn’t Riku just tell him?

And was it his imagination, or was Sora gripping his hand tighter than usual? 

Lately, Sora had gotten more relaxed whenever they were walking into town. His hold on Riku’s hand wasn’t that desperate anymore, and he even let go sometimes to take something off a shelf in the supermarket or to pet a stray cat on the way home. But tonight, it seemed as if that desperate, clingy grip was back.

Riku didn’t know what that meant, but he was secretly a little glad for it. It meant his confession hadn’t scared Sora off. The easy affection between them hadn’t changed, and although he was frustrated by his inability to read Sora at this moment, this was enough for now. It would always be enough, he told himself. He would never ask Sora for more than Sora wanted to give.

It was only once they entered their bedroom that Sora let go of Riku's hand in order to turn on the lights.

Riku wanted to get a look at Sora’s face unobscured by shadows, and try to figure out what he was feeling. But when Sora turned around, he let out a little gasp, his mouth falling open, and that made Riku forget for a second what he’d been trying to do.

“Riku, you got sunburnt!” Sora exclaimed with a little frown.

“Oh,” Riku said, suddenly registering the heat on his back, the tightness of the skin there. “Yeah, I know.” 

He winced as he rolled his shoulders to stretch the arm that had been holding Sora’s hand earlier, the movement amplifying the tenderness of his skin. 

“Hang on,” Sora said, dropping the sunscreen and towel on the desk against the wall. “I’ll put some aloe vera on it. That’ll make it feel better in the morning.”

“Really, Sora…” Sora rubbing sunscreen on his back on the beach was one thing. That had a purpose. Riku didn’t know why, but the idea of this felt weirdly more intimate, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle it. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Sora said, shaking his head. “I want to do this.”

“Sora…”

“Let me do this for you.”

Riku closed his eyes for a moment, but the look of hopeful determination on Sora’s face was burned in his mind’s eye. Sora always knew exactly what to say how to get Riku to sigh and relent.

“Riku?” Sora asked, and Riku could hear the plea in his voice.

He sighed, rolling his eyes at himself behind his eyelids because he really was so easy around Sora, it was ridiculous. “Okay.”

“Yes!” Sora was out of the room in a flash and back with the tube of aloe vera gel before Riku had even laid out the clothes he was going to wear tomorrow.

“Lie down,” Sora said with a grin.

“Bossy,” Riku grumbled, but he couldn’t suppress his smile, so the effect wasn’t really what he’d intended. No matter. He didn’t have the heart to tease Sora about this — or anything these days, really — anyway.

Lying down was a little painful, and he had to suppress a hiss as the dry, reddened skin wrinkled when he moved. He wrapped his arms around the pillow, hugging it to his face and shoulders. His chest was a little sunburnt as well, and any movement against the sheets beneath him was painful, so he tried to keep still.

“Okay,” Sora said from behind once Riku had settled down, and Riku felt the mattress dip as Sora crawled onto the bed and sat at Riku’s side. “This might be cold…”

Riku didn’t answer, holding his breath in anticipation of the cold aloe vera gel, and for what would be coming after. He gasped as Sora squeezed the gel out of the bottle directly onto his skin, cold and slick, and it made him shiver a little. But the sensation of that was nothing in comparison to the feeling of Sora’s small, gentle hands that tentatively pressed against the dip of his spine to spread out the gel across his skin.

Sora’s touch was slow, a little hesitant maybe. Riku turned his head so he could press his face into the pillow because he was suddenly blushing at how intimate this felt, and he didn’t want Sora to see. They touched all the time these days, but Sora had never touched him like this. The thought made his head spin. They hugged and held hands and slept in the same bed, but this?

This made him sink into the bed, soft and mellow, and he never wanted to be anywhere else. He just wanted this slow and personal secret. Him and Sora, always. 

“Does it hurt?” Sora’s voice was low, almost a hum.

Riku shivered and bit back a groan. The gel stung a little against his sensitive skin, but that wasn’t the worst (best) part. His heart was in his throat, and he couldn’t answer the question because he knew his voice would come out all squeaky.

“Riku?”

“M’okay,” he mumbled, thanking all the gods in existence for his voice coming out steady and not cracking.

“Okay.” 

Even though Sora rubbed the gel into his skin unhurriedly, the entire moment was over way too fast. Riku had been spacing out one second, gradually letting himself get used to the slow and tender touches, and the next Sora had moved off the bed again to return the tube of aloe vera gel to the bathroom. Riku’s heart was left racing, and he buried his face deeper into the pillow, swallowing hard around the turmoil in his throat.

Then he shook himself. Even though he could still feel the phantom touch of Sora’s hands against his burning skin, he moved to slip under the covers. He moved slowly and deliberately, wincing as he rolled onto his side to slip underneath the sheet. He would have to sleep on his front tonight and not move around too much.

Riku didn’t like to sleep uncovered, it made him feel too vulnerable and open, so even in the summer heat, they would have a light sheet covering them. And then, for a heart-stopping second, Riku realised he had gotten under the covers without putting on a t-shirt. He always wore a shirt to bed, no matter the temperature. But he was sore and tired, and comfortable under the cover and he didn’t want to move again. Maybe he could pretend he was wearing one.

“Hey, Riku.” Riku felt, rather than saw Sora slip into bed with him.

“Hmmm?” he prompted.

Sora wiggled closer, slipping his right arm underneath Riku’s body, gently tugging.

And Riku knew what he wanted, so he went where Sora pulled him, even though moving made the sheets rub a little painfully against his tender back again, and even though being shirtless brought a whole new sensation to being pressed so close to Sora. But Sora didn’t rest until Riku was sprawled out all over him, and then he sighed happily.

Well, at least this position wasn’t painful for his back. And at least Sora was wearing a shirt, so there was still a layer of fabric between them.

Worn out by an afternoon of swimming and fooling around in the water, Sora, mercifully, fell asleep almost instantly. 

It took Riku a lot longer. Every little shift made the sheet rub across his back. It wasn’t even painful this time, it just made him think about the way Sora’s hands had touched him, how he had melted into the bed, and he shivered. How nice that had felt, how much he wanted those hands on him again, only… 

Once again, he wondered what Sora had been thinking. He rewound all of today’s moments in his brain, trying to make sense of them, only his brain had all but short-circuited from Sora’s touch, and he was only now coming back into himself, slowly drifting down from his place amongst the stars. Thinking was impossible like this.

Riku dozed off for a while, sleeping so lightly that he wasn’t sure if he was asleep or awake. He dreamt at some point, but it wasn’t a nightmare, and whenever he woke up for a brief moment, the images were always just out of reach. 

Then at some point during the night, Sora jerked beneath him, and Riku was suddenly definitely awake.

Instinctively, the dream eater part of him surged at the tug, and he felt for the link, the thread that had lit up earlier today when Sora had told him what Riku smelled like. His heart surged with it, and... it was easy, in a way it hadn’t been in weeks, months. He rushed through the link, closing his eyes as he sped up, faster and faster until he reached…

With a drop that was familiar, even after the amount of time he hadn’t done this, he let himself dive into Sora’s nightmare. 

But somehow, though he knew he had reached the end of the link, and he was right there, he only needed to reach out with both hands and tug himself in…there was a wall. He wanted to smash through it, blast it apart with beams of light, shatter it into thousands of clear shards, and he pushed and pushed, but it wasn’t budging.

Sora woke up with a heaving gasp, tears on his cheeks, Riku’s name on his tongue, his voice scared and so, so small.

"I’m here," Riku murmured, tightening his arms around Sora. "It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here."

But it was different from before. Where Sora would usually take minutes to calm down, now his breathing wasn’t so rapid, his body wasn’t so tense. He clung to Riku, but he wasn’t that out of it. 

And when Riku asked his usual question "Do you want to talk about it?", he expected Sora to answer with the usual "Not yet." But then Sora surprised him once again.

"Yeah," came the soft whisper from where Sora nodded against his throat.

Riku rolled off him, despite Sora’s mumbled protest, because he wanted to look at Sora while he talked. 

The room was glowing in the moonlight, and the air smelled like aloe and sunscreen and oranges and Sora, and Sora was looking at him with wide, soft eyes. So Riku brushed a thumb across his cheek, gently tracing the freckles that were invisible in the darkness, but that he knew by heart anyway, before resting his hand lightly against the side of Sora’s neck. The touch seemed to comfort Sora as he exhaled with a shuddery breath, and Riku felt him unclench the muscles in his jaw.

"I felt you," Sora whispered, and Riku knew what he meant. 

"I dove," Riku replied, and he wanted to say more, but the words to describe how it had felt eluded him. The long-lost exhilaration, the rush, the thought that diving into Sora’s nightmares was Riku’s way of showing his devotion. It was more than his job, it was his purpose. And after, when he hadn’t been able to complete the dive, the disappointment; a feeling he was all too familiar with by this point.

His entire life was a disappointment, almost everything apart from the boy who was inches away from him now, their heads on the same pillow, their gazes locked. He wanted to give Sora everything, and it was the greatest pain of all when he couldn’t.

Sora smiled then, a little shaky, mostly sad, but it was still real.

"Well, I tried to anyway,” Riku said in the space between them. “I couldn’t...finish the dive. But I was closer than I’ve been since…" Riku trailed off.

Silence. 

"Since the end of the war," Sora completed Riku’s sentence eventually.

"Yeah… I'm sorry. I'm trying." Riku swallowed thickly.

“It's okay,” Sora said, and he moved forward on the pillow to press their foreheads together. 

The touch sent something cool and soothing through Riku, and he was afraid to breathe for fear of shattering this moment between them. He felt dizzy with it.

“It's not your fault. I don't blame, you Riku...”

Somehow, that hurt even worse. Sora, always willing to forgive his every flaw.

He would give up his keyblade and all the magic in the world if it meant he would be able to be Sora’s dream eater again. If he could repair the link completely again. Dream eating was the only power Riku really, really wanted to use again.

“So, your nightmares…" Riku said to draw himself back out of his mind and back into the present.

Sora’s eyes softened and went a little sadder still.

“What are they about?” Riku prompted gently.

“You,” Sora blurted out.

He should’ve expected this. All of Riku’s nightmares were about Sora. It made sense that Sora’s nightmares were about him. But even though it wasn’t a surprise, Riku’s fingers tensed against Sora’s neck anyway, just for a brief moment.

“I’ve had other nightmares, too,” Sora said thoughtfully. “I dream about...being stuck in tiny spaces. I dream about losing my powers, I dream about being useless. I dream about you...leaving me—”

“I would never,” Riku said before he could stop himself, before Sora could finish his sentence. It earned him a weak smile.

“I know,” Sora said. “I know, Riku.”

But the look in his eyes told Riku something different. Sora was always a complicated puzzle, and Riku had gotten better again at fitting them together once more, but this was different. Sora had closed off some part of himself again, withdrawn back into himself where only hours ago his eyes had been sparkling and he’d pinned Riku into the sand with a grin. Now he was sad again, and Riku wanted to apologise, although he didn’t know why.

What had happened? Was it the nightmare? Was it the conversation they’d had on the beach? But why?

“Sora—”

He wanted to ask him why he was sad, what was wrong. The nightmare was the obvious answer, but it felt wrong, something was wrong…

Sora shook him from his thoughts again when he continued talking.

“I know you don’t remember this. It happened in the Keyblade Graveyard…”

A shiver went down Riku’s spine. 

There were gaps in his memories of the Keyblade Graveyard, vague and twisted rifts in his mind that he tried not to think about, because it threw him off-balance, made something inside of him clench and struggle. He had guessed that the Demon Tide had blasted into him at some point, and maybe he’d hit his head. Sometimes, he wondered if maybe something traumatic had happened there, but he pushed that thought down as quickly as it rose because he didn’t want to think about it. There was already too much trauma in his head. Everything about the Keyblade Graveyard hurt too much to think about. 

The last thing he clearly remembered before everything went black was Sora, spaced out, just staring before Riku told him to pull it together. Sora had scared him, then. He’d never seen Sora so unsettled before.

Well. Now he had. Back then, he hadn’t. All Riku had wanted to do was to wrap him into a hug and never let him go, but they had a war to fight, there was no time, there was never any time.

At least they had time now. They didn’t have much else, but they had time. Time healed everything, right? Would it heal Sora’s sadness, the wounds etched into Sora’s soul?

“Back in the Keyblade Graveyard, the Demon Tide…" Sora shivered underneath Riku’s touch. “One by one, it ripped everyone away, into oblivion and darkness, until it was just you and me.”

Riku stopped breathing.

“I felt so weak and worthless… I couldn’t save them. And then it came for us. But you… You protected me. You told me to believe in myself, and you… You walked up to the Demon Tide as if it was nothing.”

Sora sobbed, a shudder racking his body. But he kept going.

“You raised your keyblade. The Tide surged at you.”

Flashes erupted in Riku’s brain, behind his eyes, in his heart. A tower of Shadows, flashes of purple, his keyblade the only barrier between an endless wave of evil and his light, his love… 

He felt his hand turn clammy against Sora’s skin. Sora reached up to curl his own hand around his crown pendant, and he was crying for real now.

Riku was frozen. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to get air into his lungs.

“But you never flinched. You stood there, strong and fearless, and…” Sora’s eyes were wet, and Riku could see the fear there, but it barely registered in his mind. “I watched it tear you apart. I watched as the darkness curled around you, took you away, but you protected me until the end and—”

Suddenly Riku realised he was crying too, as Sora’s other hand came up to brush at his cheeks.

“You were so brave, Riku,” Sora whispered, and his voice pierced through Riku’s sudden headache, gave him focus. “You were so brave…”

And though it was Sora that had just laid bare his nightmares for the first time since they came here, it was Riku who was crying now because even though he already knew he would do anything for Sora, he had died for Sora, but he hadn’t known. He hadn’t remembered. Sora had asked him before if Riku wouldn’t die for him again, and this was what he’d meant. This was what Sora had been reliving every night in his dreams. 

No wonder he didn’t want to sleep at night. Riku didn’t think he’d ever sleep again if he knew sleeping would mean getting to see Sora torn apart in front of him again and again.

“I love you, Sora,” he said, and he surprised himself by how easily the words suddenly flowed out of him, like water spilling over a dam, a wave of emotions suddenly too powerful to contain in his heart. “I will never leave you, I promise.”

And Sora smiled that sad smile again and lurched forward to press himself into Riku’s embrace. “I love you too, Riku.”

They fell asleep like that.

It should have been the beginning of things getting better. Sora had been improving a little every day, and yesterday… Riku had thought that maybe their conversation on the beach had made their bond even stronger, that they’d get there. It had taken weeks, but Sora had been smiling again, and yesterday they’d talked about Riku being gay and Sora having nightmares…

But things hadn’t been easy in their lives for years, and Riku should’ve known better. He should’ve seen it yesterday, in Sora’s sad smile, he had felt it, something was wrong.

The next afternoon things started falling apart. 

Sora went out into the backyard to get some herbs for their dinner that night, but only a few moments later, he scrambled back inside. Riku looked up from the couch where he was reading the chapter on living room renovation, watched Sora’s shoulders slump forward as he sat down at the kitchen table and frantically started flipping through one of his books on flowers. 

Oh. Oh, no.

His heart sank. “Sora, what’s wrong?”

There was a long silence as Sora read, and then he let out a sob. Riku clutched his book so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and his first instinct was to go to Sora, but the panic and fear that rushed through him suddenly paralysed him.

“Sora?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“The leaves of the rose bushes are turning brown,” Sora’s almost stumbled over the words, his breath hitching. “And the book says, brown leaves can be a sign of disease… What if they’re dying?”

“Oh, Sora..."

Riku gathered all of his strength to stand up from the couch, and he made his way over to wrap his arms around Sora’s chest. But where Sora would usually relax into his hold, his body remained a tightly wound coil, and he gripped the book tighter.

“I need to save them,” Sora whispered.

“Oh, Sora..." Riku repeated, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“I need to try.”

And Riku just held him, squeezing his arms around his chest, too much of his weight on Sora, but moment by drawn-out moment, some of the tension left Sora’s body, but then he broke down and bowed his head. Riku saw the tears splatter onto the wood of the dining table, and his heart ached as Sora shook apart in his arms.

Every day after that, Sora grew a little sadder, and Riku didn’t know what to do to comfort him. The dream eater link was better, but not good enough to get through to Sora, to know what he needed. And the feeling of wrongness wouldn’t leave Riku.

Sora was pulling away from him. And instead of searching Riku out like he had done every other time he’d been sad, Sora threw his entire being into trying to save the roses. He tried everything: watering them, giving them fertilizer, removing dead parts of the rose bushes. But no matter what he did, the brown spots got bigger, before the petals slowly started to wilt and fall. 

Riku was suddenly struck with the fact that he didn’t remember what exactly he’d done to make Sora feel better over the past three months. He couldn’t think of a single thing. Sora had never drawn into himself like this, he’d always come to Riku, and it seemed as if Sora closing off like this killed the part of Riku that knew so effortlessly how to be there for him, why couldn’t he remember how to be there for Sora?

And Riku wondered, what if his love was not enough? He’d always had this fear inside of him that his sadness was stronger than his love. And these days, he had so much sadness inside of him...

He tried to touch Sora, but Sora flinched when he did, and he tried to talk to Sora, but Sora would press his lips together and refuse to answer him. At night, Sora still curled up into Riku’s side, which was a small mercy all things considered. But then he cried, every night, shaking as he buried his face in Riku’s shirt until he exhausted himself so much he fell asleep, and even in sleep he tossed and turned with nightmares that Riku couldn't save him from.

And every night, Riku tried to dive into whatever nightmare Sora was having, but no matter how hard and how often he thought about Sora — beautiful, shy, flustered Sora — telling Riku what he smelled like, he couldn’t get through the final barrier. He couldn't remember the warm surge in his heart.

It felt like they were back to square one. Two steps forward, two steps back, returned all the way to the start. Two broken boys in a bed, with no way out of this ever-downward spiral.

Somehow, they still did work on the house together, but Riku could tell Sora’s heart wasn’t in it, so Riku’s wasn’t either.

Where before, working on the house meant sharing smiles and little glances, moving in tune, handing each other tools before they could ask for them, now Riku just felt deflated and heavyhearted with how much things seemed wrong. They didn't smile at each other, and Sora poignantly didn't look at him. All of Sora's movements were sluggish and stiff, as if he was sore from fighting Heartless all day.

Time and again, Riku had to force his thoughts back the paint roller and the living room wall in front of him. And time and again, he couldn't help but glance over to where Sora was absently running his paint roller over another wall, spreading out the off-white with stunted strokes.

One time, when Riku glanced over, he saw Sora had stopped moving altogether, the paint roller in his hand, dripping paint with little splat-splat-splat noises on the plastic cover beneath their feet. Riku's heart clenched as Sora stared at the floor, tears on his cheeks, and Riku went to him, but when he touched Sora's shoulder, Sora just jerked away and curled into himself.

Riku had never been more at a loss.

Tension and fear and sadness built inside of Sora like a tsunami, surging a little higher every day, and Riku saw it, he felt it.

After two weeks of this, the day came when it became obvious that Sora couldn’t stop the decline of the roses, no matter how hard he’d tried.

Sora went outside before breakfast, and Riku watched through the kitchen window as Sora stood and stared at the last of the petals. They crumbled under his touch as he reached out to them, until there was nothing left of the rose bushes but stems covered in thorns.

The dam broke, and the tsunami flooded in.

Riku watched and felt his own heartbreak in two as Sora sat down in the garden and, amidst the dirt and the remaining flowers, folded in on himself and cried and cried. His arms wrapped around his chest as sobs wracked his body. Riku felt his stomach tighten with his own grief, and it was long minutes before he was able to shake himself. Then he hurried out the backdoor to sit down next to Sora in the dirt.

The sun shone down on them, and vaguely Riku realised he should’ve felt warm, but instead cold shivers ran up and down his spine.

Sora didn’t speak, but as Riku reached out to him, Sora reached back and collapsed into his arms. He let Riku hold him. And he let Riku talk to him, even though Riku didn’t know if the words actually reached him.

It felt so instinctual again, holding Sora, whispering into his ear that it was going to be okay, he was here, and oh, Sora felt so small in his arms, but his sobs were so powerful. And Sora clung to him, the grip around Riku’s shoulders almost painful, but something inside of Riku soared with the need to protect-comfort-love.

And now that the dam had burst, Riku could feel his own sadness and fear resonating with Sora’s. The feelings reminded him of all the things he’d done to save Sora. The fear he’d had for years; what if he never saw Sora again, what if Sora never woke up, what if he could never apologise to Sora, never hug him again. His sadness had been a bottomless pit.

At least amidst all of this, he recognised those feelings again. And he knew all of a sudden what he’d also known back then: that his love for Sora was stronger than those feelings of sadness and fear. And even if he felt them now, that was okay. Even in their darkest hour, his love for Sora was stronger.

And he sunk down further, pulling Sora into his lap, and he curled himself all around the sobbing boy in his arms.

“Maybe the soil here wasn’t good for rose bushes, hm, Sora?” he muttered into Sora hair, right above his ear. “Maybe they weren’t meant to live on this island… Sometimes plants just die. It’s not anybody’s fault.”

Sora shook convulsively and whimpered, and Riku slowly rocked him back and forth. He felt Sora’s tears soak through the thin cotton of his shirt, and Sora’s sweaty hair tickled against his neck as they sat in the dirt in the early morning sun.

With a pang, Riku realised that it was him that had picked out the roses. He’d thought they’d be strong and tough.

He’d never felt so bad about being wrong before.

When he swallowed, his throat felt thick and painful, as if his heart had jumped up and lodged itself in there. For long moments, they just breathed together, Sora pressed to his chest, hands grabbing so tightly in the folds at the back of his shirt that Riku could feel it stretch almost painfully around his chest.

It felt like hours before Riku found his voice again.

“Think of all the other flowers in the garden, Sora,” Riku whispered. “The ones that are thriving.”

That, finally, made Sora stop shaking in his arms, so Riku pulled back just a little to look at him. Sora’s breathing was shallow and irregular, his eyes bloodshot and so, so sad.

What were words when faced with such infinite despair?

But he had to try.

“Sora, look,” Riku turned his upper body slightly and gestured towards the rest of the garden. “There’s the purple hibiscus, and the clivia, so bright and orange. You planted them, and they’re doing so well. And the jasmine that smells so nice. Can you smell it now?”

“But,” Sora said, blinking, his lip wobbling. “The roses were for you. You loved them.”

“I did,” Riku said softly. “But it’s okay. Really. We can get more flowers. Ones that are just as beautiful. Ones that thrive better in our garden.”

“But I couldn’t save them.” Sora’s breathing was erratic and hitched in between each word, the hiccups making it hard to understand what he was saying. 

And then the words registered.

Oh, Riku suddenly thought. Oh. It wasn’t really about the roses, was it? His hands cupped Sora’s cheeks as he remembered Sora talking about the Keyblade Graveyard. How he couldn’t save their friends as they were ripped away one by one.

“Sometimes,” Riku said softly, and Sora tried to stop his hiccups to listen to him, which made something fierce flutter in Riku’s chest. “Sometimes you can’t save everyone.”

Sora started crying again, his shoulders shaking as silent tears streamed down his cheeks, and soon his body rocked with another forceful sob against Riku’s.

“But that doesn’t make you less of a good person,” Riku tried, but he couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. “You care so much, Sora, and that’s a good thing. You love so freely and openly, but that makes it hurt so much when things or people go away or...die.”

“It hurts so much.” Sora brought a hand to his chest to cover his heart. “And this time, what I feel in here is just my own pain.”

“Oh, Sora…" Riku realised absentmindedly that he sounded like he was mourning. He wanted so badly to take away all of Sora’s pain, his nightmares, his sadness...

What happened next was an accident, Riku told himself. He hadn’t meant to do it, but there was a call in his heart that he didn’t know how to ignore. He brushed his fingers over Sora’s tear-stained cheeks, and Sora’s breath hitched.

Riku sat up a little straighter to make himself more comfortable, but Sora didn’t move back and suddenly their faces were much closer. Sora’s eyes were still red and swollen, and his cheeks glistened in the morning sunlight. His mouth was curved downwards in a way that was too familiar these days, and Riku’s heart clenched in his chest.

“I wish I would run out of tears,” Sora whispered, his voice raspy. “I’m so tired of crying.”

Riku swallowed thickly, the movement painful in his closed-up throat, but swallowing was the only way to hold back his own tears. They couldn’t both cry. Sora needed him to be strong.

He just wished there was something he could do… But he didn’t know what…

There was cool, damp earth beneath them and buzzing bees and butterflies all around them. The smell of jasmine was heavy in the air, and Riku was struck with the urge to wrap his arms tighter around Sora, guide Sora’s head to his chest and keep him wrapped in his arms forever. He didn't want Sora to cry anymore.

Then Riku’s thoughts drifted back to how close their faces were together. In any other circumstance, this would have made Riku pull back. But not now, not here. 

Slowly, without thinking about it, he followed the call in his heart. He bent his neck and moved in slowly, slowly, until his lips were pressed to Sora’s cheek. Sora let out a tiny whimper, shivered in Riku’s arms, and then he said Riku’s name with such unadulterated need that Riku didn’t know how to contain the warmth that spread out from his chest. They both stilled for a long moment, Riku frozen with his lips against Sora’s cheek. 

Then Sora whimpered again, but it was different from before. And this time, there were no fresh tears to accompany the sound. Riku pulled back just a little.

All Riku wanted was for Sora to stop looking at him like his whole world had collapsed. And if kissing Sora helped...

With a renewed purpose, Riku kissed Sora's cheek again, then slowly dragged his lips from cheek to temple, pausing there for another kiss. Then he continued across his forehead. Gentle, gentle brushes of his lips just below Sora’s hairline, the faint smell of coconut shampoo, his nose tingling with the unruly bangs and he almost sneezed when that tickled. When he got to Sora’s other temple, he dared to pause, to lick across the sweaty skin there, and something curled in his stomach, something wild, something new, something he’d never let himself feel before.

Sora had stopped crying completely now, When Riku pulled back next, Sora was just staring at him. His eyes were dark pools, shining and wide, and Riku was mesmerised by the look on his face, so unguarded, so trusting. 

Riku watched, captivated, and he kept his eyes open as he moved in once more, this time with a different goal in mind. Time seemed to slow, and Sora seemed to have stopped breathing. Riku could feel this, because his chest had stopped moving. 

Then their lips met, and it brought Sora back to life. Riku heard him inhale sharply through his nose.

It brought Riku back to life because he suddenly felt. Something other than despair and hopelessness, something light and free that wormed its way into his heart and settled in a tiny corner there.

It was the chasest of kisses, it was just the press of their lips for long, endless seconds. Riku felt Sora move in the middle of the kiss, one hand coming up to Riku’s cheek, so warm and soft and gentle, and Riku wanted to cry again, but this time not because he was sad. The sadness had been taken away, replaced completely by love and light and Sora.

Riku pulled away, just an inch, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Oh,” Sora said and then they both gasped, breathing in each other’s air.

For an eternity, there was just silence between them.

Then Sora raised a hand to his lips. “Oh,” he said again. “That…”

Riku opened his mouth to apologise, only when he did, he realised he wasn’t sorry at all. He had let his heart guide him, comfort Sora in the way he felt was right, and he couldn't be sorry about that. And Sora had stopped crying, was now staring at him with...not a smile, but something close to it, so it had worked.

But now he didn’t know what to say, and Sora remained silent as well. Then Sora buried his face back in Riku’s chest, and Riku’s arms went around him again, and they stayed there in the garden for a long time before it was Sora who slipped off his lap and stood. Then he reached out a hand to pull Riku up.

The butterflies darted around them, matching the ones in Riku’s stomach. Sora kept holding his hand, and that was...something. It was enough, he told himself.

Neither of them brought up the kiss afterwards, but Riku kept replaying the moment in his mind, over and over. He tried not to, but he couldn't help himself, the images kept flickering in his mind's eye like a broken movie projector. He remembered the feeling of Sora's soft lips, the warm press of Sora's palm against his cheek, the way that the entire universe seemed to have condensed itself to a single point in space and time… He had kissed Sora, even if it had been a sad kiss. A phantom tingle ghosted across his lips every time the moment replayed in his mind.

He knew that Sora hadn't meant anything more by it. Sora had wanted comfort, Sora always craved physical contact, and this time he'd been in such a sad headspace... Riku knew even he hadn't meant the kiss romantically, not really. He just wanted to be whatever Sora needed him to be.

And they hugged and touched each other all the time to comfort each other. Riku just had to file away cheek and forehead kisses under the same category in his mind. He just wanted to make Sora feel better, and the tug in his heart had told him that this would make Sora feel better. And it had.

And he would do it again, he knew. Despite the sadness, despite Sora's tears, despite the way his thoughts were now racing… He wanted another chance to press their lips together again. If he was feeling confident. If it was what Sora needed...

And even though they didn't talk about the kiss, Sora didn't leave Riku's side when he didn't have to, and he also didn’t cry any more, and that was...good. It was what Riku wanted.

Maybe...just maybe, things would be okay after all.

They painted the last wall of the living room, this time with little glances at each other again, and Sora made a late lunch while Riku dug out the dead rose bushes from the garden. The thorns cut open his hands, but he couldn’t be bothered to get the gardening gloves from inside.

Riku felt Sora looking at him again. Sora stood a little too close all day, and he curled up into Riku’s side late afternoon when they collapsed on the couch to relax before dinner, something Sora hadn’t done since their conversation on the beach. Instead of reading his book, Riku kept tracing the link, and he was so close each time, it was right there, but he still couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t figure Sora out.

And he didn't know how to ask.

That night, after it had gotten dark, Sora hovered when they were doing the dishes, standing too close while Riku did the washing and Sora did the drying, and their elbows kept brushing each other. Riku’s mind was racing, his thoughts jumping from sadness to the kiss to the way every one of Sora’s touches sent a tiny little spark up his arm.

And then when they were done, and Sora put the last of the plates away, Sora hugged him, wriggling underneath Riku’s arm to stand between the counter and Riku’s body. Riku’s arms went around him, and he smiled unwittingly, because he always liked it when Sora hugged him, and this was the first time in over two weeks that it was Sora who initiated the contact.

The kitchen tap wasn’t closed properly, and the sound of their breathing mingled with the little dripping sounds. Riku counted Sora’s soft inhales and exhales for long moments, from one to ten, then starting over again. He lost count of how many times he'd counted. And then...

“Riku?” Sora muttered against his chest.

“Mmm?” Riku hummed.

“I don’t wanna go to bed, I don’t wanna sleep...”

Riku tugged him closer, hands on the small of his back until every inch of their bodies was touching, and Sora melted against him. He was glad — so, so glad — that Sora was talking to him again.

“Why not?” He could guess, but he wanted Sora to say it, he wanted Sora to talk to him.

“I’m afraid of the nightmares.”

Riku had known this would be the answer, but his heart sank a little anyway. The link wasn’t good enough yet. He wasn’t good enough yet. 

Sora must’ve felt him tense up.

“It’s not your fault,” Sora said, shaking his head as he pulled back. “You’re trying. I know you are. And I don’t blame you, Riku.”

Riku took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Sora's eyes. The kitchen was bright, their new light fixtures illuminating everything in a sea of golden-yellow warmth. Sora’s lip was trembling, and was he...pouting a little?

Riku gave a little smile, brushing a thumb across Sora’s cheek. “I’ll believe that if you’ll believe me when I say the roses dying wasn’t your fault.”

Sora’s eyes widened, and he gave the faintest of smiles before he nodded. “Okay. I’ll...try.”

“Okay,” Riku replied. “That’s a start.”

Sora hummed before he stood on his tiptoes, using the arms he had around Riku’s shoulders to draw himself up a little more so they were almost at eye-level. “So can we go sit outside and watch the stars instead?”

Riku leaned his head down so their foreheads touching, and like this, Sora was close enough to— 

No. He wouldn’t let his thoughts go there now.

“Of course,” he whispered instead.

Riku grabbed a set of blankets while Sora got the flashlight from upstairs because though Sora loved watching the stars, he was also a little scared of the dark these days. 

Once on the porch, Riku settled into what had become his rocking chair, expecting Sora to sit down in the other one. Instead, Sora grabbed his blanket from where Riku had placed it on the other chair and shuffled over to Riku’s. Riku smiled and shifted, making space for Sora to wedge himself in between the armrest and Riku.

Riku covered them both with the blanket, and Sora squirmed a little to make himself comfortable before starting to fidget with the flashlight in his hands. Turning it over and over, clicking it on and off and on again, little golden circles on the wooden oak planks of the porch.

Riku exhaled and allowed himself to relax, to try and just enjoy this moment, the peace after — or probably in the eye of — the storm.

Riku could practically see the wheels in Sora’s head turning. He wanted to ask Sora what was wrong, but he decided to be patient. He’d waited for two weeks for Sora to talk to him. He could hold on a few moments longer.

He didn’t have to wait long. After the fifth sigh, Sora tipped his head sideways onto Riku’s shoulder and stilled his hands on the flashlight.

“Riku?”

Riku hummed. He felt Sora shiver, and when Sora spoke next, his voice was small, barely above a whisper.

“Why did you never tell me about the boy you were in love with?”

Riku froze. Out of all the things Sora could have wanted to talk to about… 

Two weeks ago, on a warm beach with Sora’s hand in his, he’d felt he could have, maybe...told Sora the truth. Now… He wasn’t so sure anymore. But he didn’t want to lie, either.

He settled for, “It happened a long time ago.” 

That wasn’t a lie.

“Are you still in love with him?” Sora’s voice was too high, too fragile.

Riku closed his eyes, as if it would make answering that question easier. Maybe it did. 

“Yes,” he whispered.

The crickets were chirping continuously in the background, and Riku listened to the sound for long, long moments before Sora lifted his head from his shoulder. He opened his eyes to watch Sora, his eyes shining incomprehensibly in the dark.

What are you thinking…? Riku thought for the umpteenth time. Why couldn’t his heart tell anymore?

“Tell me about him,” Sora whispered.

Riku's heart jumped to his throat, now beating a staccato rhythm against his windpipe. He'd never be able to get a word out like this. He had kissed Sora, and Sora hadn't brought it up again. But Riku couldn't tell him that he was all Riku ever thought about.

Even though maybe, deep down, he really really wanted to.

“He’s…" He sighed, averting his gaze. “His eyes are bright. And blue, like the skies on the clearest summer day.” 

Riku paused, because already this was already too much, too deep, too fast. An nighthawk chirped in the distance, and he turned his head to pretend to search for it, even though it was too far away in the forest. 

“He has an amazing smile,” he continued. He was unable to look at Sora, so he tilted his head back a little and looked up at the stars instead, tiny specks against a blanket of darkness. “When he smiles, the entire room lights up. And I forget everything else…"

“What does he smell like?”

Riku’s eyes widened, unprepared for that.

“Uhm,” he stammered. “Like… A little sweet, like vanilla. But also a little tangy, like grapefruit.”

“Oh,” Sora said as he sniffed quietly, and Riku didn’t know what that meant. “Okay. What else do you like about him?”

This time, Riku couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face, no matter how confused he was, how dangerous this was. Sora was...bound to found out sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. He decided to forego all subtlety.

“He’s really strong. He can kick everyone’s ass, even mine. And he’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. He loves all of his friends, and he can do anything he sets his mind to. He’s really talented, he can cook really well, and he’s the best swimmer I know.”

With a start, Riku registered Sora’s suppressed little sniffle, low-pitched, but still impossible to miss in the quiet evening. He turned his eyes from the stars to look at Sora’s face.

“Sora…" he whispered. “Why are you crying?”

Sora hiccuped and swallowed a few times, trying to get his breathing back under control. He tightened his hold on the flashlight and exhaled shakily.

“This boy sounds really nice, Riku. No wonder you’re in love with him.”

Surely, Riku thought. Surely it had been so obvious who he’d been describing. There was literally no one else in the world who it could be. But then, why—

“Then why are you crying?” Riku asked again, keeping his voice as gentle as he could, even though his throat burned painfully. 

“I don’t know,” Sora sobbed, and Riku reached out the arm Sora wasn’t curled against to wrap underneath the blanket, around Sora’s shoulders as he shook. 

The rocking chair swayed gently with the motion.

“Sora…"

Sora's skin was warm underneath the cotton against his palm, and he started rubbing between his shoulder blades in tiny little strokes. The silence went on for long minutes, before...

“I want it to be me,” Sora whispered brokenly.

Oh, shit... Oh, what?

Riku stilled his hand. “I don’t...understand.”

“The boy you’re in love with,” Sora murmured, tears thick in his voice. “I want it to be me.”

“What?”

How had Sora not... Part of his brain was screaming because Sora wanted him to be in love with him, while the other part was heart-broken, because… Sora didn’t know? He had been describing all of Sora's good qualities for the past ten minutes, and Sora really hadn’t seen it?

“I know it’s selfish,” Sora whispered, and Riku had to strain to hear him as his voice shook more the longer he talked. “But I don’t want to share you. I like it when we’re together and I have all of your attention. I’m sorry. I don’t even know him. I know I have no right to be jealous of him.”

And suddenly all the puzzle pieces fell into place. Sora pulling away from him, hesitant to touch him, the sadness in his heart that had echoed in Riku’s. If Sora had thought Riku had been in love with another boy…

Oh, he’d been such an idiot. What if he’d just come out and said it? Would the past two weeks not have happened like this? Would he have been able to spare Sora that pain?

And then…the kiss. Oh, shit, that kiss, and Sora’s clinginess afterwards…

Riku moved his hands from Sora’s shoulder, sliding it across his neck, his throat, then up to his cheek. Sora shivered, and only met his gaze when Riku gently tilted his head.

Riku's heart was racing, and his mouth was so, so dry that he couldn’t even swallow, but he needed to say this. Sora needed to hear this.

“It is you, Sora... It’s always been you.”

Sora’s eyes widened and fresh tears sprung into them. The flashlight fell to the ground with a clang that made both of them wince. 

“B-but…" Sora stammered. “But you said…”

“I was talking about you.”

“Oh,” Sora said, and he scrambled to sit up straighter, making the rocking chair lurch forward and backwards wildly. 

“I love you, Sora,” Riku said, and he surprised himself by how easy it was to get the words out here, safe here in their little bubble.

Sora stared at Riku, eyes wide with shock. He blinked rapidly for long seconds, but then he smiled — no, he beamed — at Riku, and it was the best thing Riku had seen in forever.

And suddenly, Riku’s chest flooded with that familiar warmth, and his mouth fell open. Sora brought a hand to cover Riku’s heart in a gesture that was so intimate, and the connection between them surged and fluttered, like the butterflies in his stomach, and instinctively Riku dove down the link. It was like rushing down a slide, his mind and gaze set on the goal, a goal so bright, the light inside of Sora more radiant than the brightest star out there.

He tugged and Sora shifted again, one leg thrown across Riku’s as he crawled into Riku’s lap and made the chair rock a little again. He pressed closer and buried his face in Riku’s neck, his arms wrapped tightly around Riku’s shoulders.

Riku didn’t know what any of this meant, he had no script for this. He was just acting on what his heart told him to do when he wrapped his arms Sora's waist and pulled him closer still until every inch of their bodies was pressed together. 

There was more to say, he had more to ask, but it could wait. His heart hadn’t felt so light in weeks, months, years, and Sora was here, Sora was smiling and hugging him, and their link was restored, he felt it deep inside him, so nothing else mattered, really. Sora was trembling, so Riku stroked soothing circles across his back until Sora relaxed, and his breathing evened out as he fell asleep against Riku.

Chapter Text

Riku didn't know how long he remained awake afterwards, awash in the soft glow of the stars and the moon with the gentle sounds of the waves in the distance. Sora was breathing deeply in his sleep, completely relaxed against him. Riku had his arms lightly around his waist, both of them covered by the blanket, warmed by their body heat. Riku couldn't imagine it was a comfortable position to sleep in for Sora, but the dream eater link — alight, comfortable, familiar — felt strong and thrummed softly, and through it, Riku could feel Sora's sleep was deep and dreamless. And that's all that mattered.

He didn't need to stay awake. He knew with the link fully restored, he'd be able to reach Sora's nightmares anywhere — whether he was asleep or not — but he couldn't stop his racing thoughts long enough to drift off to sleep.

Their conversation replayed itself over and over in his mind. First, Sora's sadness — his tears — because Riku had been describing all of Sora's good qualities, but Sora hadn't seen it. Sora hadn't gotten how amazing he was, and that made Riku sadder than anything. But in an emotional rollercoaster, Riku's sadness had turned to absolute joy over the wide smile that had blossomed on Sora's face when Riku told him he was in love with him. If he'd known that that's what it would take to make Sora smile like that again…

But what did it mean?

The scene played in his mind a hundred times, but he still couldn't figure it out. Maybe he didn't need to, now, maybe this was enough. But Riku had never been good with leaving things up in the air. It was who he'd always been, thinking too much, churning things over and over in his brain until he came to a conclusion.

But what was the conclusion here? He wasn't sure. He wouldn't let himself be sure.

Riku had been getting a better grip on his feelings again over the past months. The train wreck that was his jumbled emotions — guilt, sadness, fear, love — had slowly been sorted, fixed and labelled.

And now, tonight… There was an emotion he hadn't revisited yet. He used to think it was an emotion, anyway. Duty and devotion had been such a big part of his life over the past years. He'd been devoted to Sora, he'd done everything in his power to keep Sora safe, over and over, and that devotion was still there. But protecting Sora wasn't his duty anymore. He did what he did because he loved Sora, and loving Sora had always — almost always, he winced — come as natural to him as breathing.

It was comforting, this realisation. Comforting in the way Sora's warm weight was comforting, in the way that Riku was slowly starting to accept that, no matter what happened, Sora was here. Sora wasn't going anywhere. Sora was just as tied to him as he was to Sora, and that thought made something warm and soft swell in his chest, like someone had stuffed him with cotton wool.

Riku debated if he should get up to move them to the bedroom, but while he could probably carry Sora up the stairs, he didn't want to accidentally wake him up. Sleep was precious to both of them. 

He finally closed his itchy, tired eyes, and after tethering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness for a little longer, he drifted off, the golden-glowing link a once again ever-present tug on his heart.

They both slept through the night for the first time in four months, even though Riku woke up with a crick in his neck, and Sora had drooled on his shoulder.

The next morning, it was like a switch had been flipped in Sora.

He was cheerful over breakfast, shoving spoonfuls of cereal in his mouth as if it was his job, and he spoke more words in half an hour than Riku had heard him utter in the past two weeks combined. It was a jumble of ideas for paint colours for their bedroom, plans for new flowers in the backyard, musings out loud if the house was ready enough — if they were ready enough — to ask his parents to visit, and if he should turn on his phone to text Kairi or any of the others.

Riku listened to him talk, slowly chewing his toast, nodding or humming to fill the little gaps in Sora's monologue.

It was as if Sora needed to make up for weeks of not getting out all of these thoughts, and Riku couldn't help but smile at Sora's renewed energy. Finally, the moment came when Sora seemed to run out of words. He chewed slowly, staring off into space with slightly furrowed eyebrows.

“Sora?” Riku prompted gently.

Sora jumped and shoved another spoon of cereal in his mouth.

“You think I'm a good cook?” Sora asked with his mouth full, milk dribbling down his chin, poignantly staring at a point beyond Riku's right shoulder.

Riku couldn't stop his smile, nor did he particularly want to. He didn't know what had prompted Sora's question, but now this felt like a do-over from last night; a moment in which he could talk about Sora's good qualities with Sora knowing it was about him.

“Yeah, you're a great cook,” Riku said. “You always put a lot of thought into your recipes. I'm in awe of the way you manage to come up with all those combinations.”

Sora turned his gaze back to Riku, his cheeks a little red. His eyes shone as he swallowed visibly.

“And you think I'm a good swimmer?”

“I think the only thing you ever really beat me at were swimming races,” Riku said, one corner of his mouth crooked up.

“That's not true,” Sora pouted before he broke into a little grin. “I definitely beat you...more than once during our races on the beach, too.”

“Only because I tripped over a tree branch that time,” Riku retorted. “And cause I was coming down with the flu that other time.”

Riku was surprised by how easily the memories came to him, and how easily the teasing words slipped out. He and Sora hadn't teased each other in…forever, it felt. It was...almost new territory again.

Sora's grin widened. “That still counts.”

Neither of their words were snarky or competitive; they weren't ready for that yet. But it was a start. It was nice. Especially when Riku grabbed his plate and Sora's empty bowl and— 

“You keep telling yourself that,” he said with a wink.

Sora's cheeks turned even redder as he glanced away, and if Riku's hands hadn't been full, he would have reached over to ruffle Sora’s hair.

Later that day, Sora was writing their shopping list while Riku sealed the cracks in the living room window panes with foam weatherstripping, a job they hadn't gotten around to before. It hadn't been necessary earlier, but fall was nearly upon them, and that would bring storms and rain. Better to seal off the cracks now.

It was an easy enough job, and it didn't take much time. After weatherstripping the living room windows, Riku took the roll of foam and the scissors and went back into the kitchen only to find Sora staring off into space, a pencil held loosely between his fingers. But instead of that familiar look of sadness and heartbreak, Sora was smiling a little and the expression on his face was...thoughtful. His eyes were a little clouded over, almost dreamy.

When Riku walked past him towards the kitchen window to apply the same sealing there, he caught a glance of the shopping list.

It just said: milk. 

The rest of the page was covered in little flower doodles.

Riku blinked and spoke before he thought. “Sora, what—”

Though he swallowed the rest of the question, Sora started and gripped the pencil so hard it snapped. Judging by the surprised look he gave Riku, he had been miles away. Now he was blinking quickly as if he'd been snapped into his body at the speed of light.

“I'm…” Sora looked from Riku's face back to the paper in front of him, the look on his face turning into a little frown. “Not sure?”

Riku let out a snicker and shook his head. 

But before he could make any sort of teasing remark, Sora's face lit up again, and Riku forgot any words he was going to say.

“Do I really have a nice smile?” Sora asked, his voice small and hesitant, and Riku could see the blush appearing on his cheeks as their eyes locked again.

Riku stopped breathing because it was one thing to say these things in the cover of darkness when he wasn't looking at Sora, but something completely different when Sora's eyes were bright and wide and locked with his.

They stared at each other for what felt like minutes, but was probably closer to seconds, before Riku cleared his throat and released his tight grip on the weatherstripping in his hand.

“Yeah,” he smiled, and the weird fluttering in his stomach was made even better by the way Sora’s eyes went soft. “I love your smile. I missed it so much. When you smile…”

He trailed off and felt his own cheeks heat up. But Sora was looking at him — staring at him — and Riku knew Sora needed this, and he could give him this. So he did.

“When you smile, I feel like I belong. There’s no better feeling in the world.”

“Riku…” Sora muttered.

And before Riku was aware of what was happening, Sora had shoved his chair back and flung himself into Riku’s arms, which Riku only opened just in time for Sora to press himself against him.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Sora said, muffled against his chest, and Riku couldn’t do anything but hug him back, weatherstripping and scissors and all.

“I doubt that,” Riku said, because surely not.

“It is,” Sora said firmly.

Riku pulled Sora closer against him while he looked over Sora's head at the dozens of flowers adorning the word milk on the paper sheet on the kitchen table and he thought… 

Maybe?

Then he pushed the thought down as quickly as it had popped up.

But try as he might, the thought wouldn't leave him alone.

Not that day, and not during any of the days after. 

Over the next week, more and more of Riku's drawn art ended up on the fridge, stuck there with little red heart magnets that Riku had no idea how Sora had obtained. He must have snuck them into the shopping cart while Riku wasn't looking, and that thought alone made Riku's stomach warm and a little swirly. He tried not to read anything into it, but the magnets were hearts.

Sora didn't mention it, but once, when he caught Riku staring at the drawings and reaching out to touch the heart magnets, his smile was coy and he held Riku's gaze for a moment too long.

August turned to September, and though summer was officially over, it was still warm. The entire lower floor of the house was done now, painted and fixed up, the floor polished and waxed, and the windows like new again. Sora's father had helped them bring some new furniture over: a larger bookcase for all of their new books and comics, a new dark grey sofa and a rainbow-coloured hammock that Sora had wanted for in the backyard. 

And with everything they did, with every new piece of furniture they picked out, after every trip to the DIY store, the house felt more like them.

Sora hadn't had a single nightmare since their conversation underneath the stars, and Riku basked in the comforting, warm feeling of the fixed dream-eater link. He tugged on it subconsciously whenever he felt sad, whenever the memories threatened to overtake him, and Sora never mentioned it, just moved closer and put his head on Riku's shoulder, or held his hand, or nudged at Riku until they were lying sideways on the couch, Sora pressed into Riku's side. Everything Sora did was exactly what Riku needed at that moment.

And every day, Riku felt a little more like himself. In every smile Sora gave him, in every meal they cooked together, every moment Sora gave all of himself to Riku. 

Riku wasn’t ready to even think about keyblades and magic spells, but he also felt himself getting restless more and more as his strength returned with every time he slept through the night, every lazy afternoon they lay together in their new hammock in the shade. 

So he started doing morning sessions on the beach in shorts and a tank top, practicing his fighting moves without a keyblade. Sometimes near the end of his session, Sora would come out to watch him for a bit, cross-legged in the sand in a pair of shorts and one of Riku’s t-shirts, much too large on his frame.

He did that this particular morning.

As always, Riku tried to keep focused through the last few movements of his routine, fighting against the urge to glance over at Sora where he bit into the paopu fruit he was munching on for a mid-morning snack. Sora's appetite had soared over the past weeks, and Riku was glad for it.

Riku joined Sora in the warm sand afterwards, sweaty, stiff and a little achy in a good way. Wordlessly, Sora held out half of the fruit to him, blushing and a little timid, not meeting Riku's eyes.

When Riku accepted it and took a bite, the link vibrated with Sora's peaceful happiness. With his mouth full of juicy, sweet paopu, Riku sighed, letting that emotion wash over him.

And again he thought...maybe.

Yet this time, he let the thought linger, absorbed in the way Sora was now looking out across the ocean. He let himself wonder about what it would be like, having Sora as his boyfriend. Not very different from what they had now, probably. Maybe a few more kisses. 

They both remained quiet, listening to the waves and the cries of the seagulls overhead. Riku realised with a start that he was...content here. With Sora by his side, and their house just behind them, and the knowledge that there really weren’t any more secrets between them. Riku didn’t think he would ever want anything more than this.

Well. Maybe more kisses would be nice.

He glanced sideways at Sora, and Sora simultaneously turned his head to glance back, both of them just caught in the moment. Then Sora smiled, so soft and fond, and Riku saw it, and it wasn't really that hard to process it because… 

He knew it was the exact same way he looked at Sora… His stomach fluttered again.

Maybe…

After long moments, Sora turned back to look out across the ocean and sighed. “There's so much beauty in the world. I wish I could capture it all. Then I could look at it when I feel sad.”

Riku shook his head minutely to clear his thoughts before leaning back to rest on the hand that wasn't holding half a paopu fruit. He drew up his knees and dug his bare feet into the sand.

“You could,” he said gently. “You sent me hundreds of pictures from your gummiphone, and they were all really good. Why don't you get a real camera? We can go and buy one tomorrow.”

Sora's face lit up as he turned back to Riku. “You think so? That's a great idea!”

“Thanks,” Riku said with a little smirk as he took another bite of the fruit. “I try.”

“We need to go into town anyway,” Sora said. “I decided that you need new clothes.”

“What?” Riku blurted out with his mouth full, surprised at the turn of the conversation.

“Your mom gave you clothes, but they’re just sweatpants and t-shirts,” Sora said, as if that was enough of an explanation.

“There’s nothing wrong with sweatpants,” Riku said, because there wasn't. Even though, now that he thought about it, now that he felt…better, it would probably be nice to dress in something a little different. He absently remembered a time when he cared about what he was wearing. It would be nice to feel like that again.

Sora was silent for a moment. “There's nothing wrong with sweatpants, but…”

Riku waited for Sora to gather his thoughts, watched as the look on his face went thoughtful, his eyes clouding over a little.

“You might get to go on a date someday,” Sora said abruptly. “You can’t wear sweatpants on a date.”

Riku snorted. “Who would I go on a date with, Sora?”

The words hung in the air between them as Sora turned away towards the remains of his half of the paopu fruit, turning it over and over in his hands.

Oh, Riku thought. Oooohhhh?

Sora wanted to be close to him. Sora didn't want Riku to leave him. Sora wanted Riku to be in love with him. And now Sora wanted him to go on a date? Logically, his brain told him that there really wasn't another explanation than…

Riku curled himself forwards, wrapping his arms around his knees, staring back out across the beach towards the ocean. 

He had to be patient. God only knew it had taken him ages to come to terms with his feelings for Sora, and Sora had been through so much… Feelings and emotions were confusing at the best of times, and Sora was only now starting to get in the right headspace to begin to sift through them. And Riku understood that. It was much like he was now only beginning to feel like himself again.

The waves crashing over the beach in the distance was the only sound around as they were both lost in their own thoughts. Riku was dying to ask what Sora had meant when he'd asked Riku might go on a date sometime, but he also didn't want to pressure Sora. Meanwhile, Sora seemed to have drawn into himself, his eyes firmly on the yellow fruit in his hands.

Riku would be patient. And though he didn't want to get his hopes up, it was hard when Sora was…

Maybe.

Finally, after a long time, Riku stood, reaching out a hand to pull Sora up until they stood facing each other.

“Okay,” he said, searching Sora's bright blue, wide eyes for an answer that he knew Sora probably didn't have yet. He nodded. “Let's go and do some work, huh?”

That afternoon, they started on the outside of the house, removing damaged sections of the siding in preparation of the paint job they had planned.

It was hot in the blazing sun. Though Riku had just showered after his morning session, his clean t-shirt was damp with sweat within moments, sticking uncomfortably against his back and arms. He was loath to admit it, but he would probably be more comfortable if he took it off…

He glanced over to where Sora was seated cross-legged on the grass, struggling to remove a piece of damaged wood clapboard, his face scrunched up in concentration. Sora was still wearing his red tank top, but it was also covered with sweat, and Riku swallowed thickly.

Sora had seen the scar on his side. They hadn't really talked about it, but he didn't feel embarrassed or uncomfortable anymore by Sora seeing it.

He inhaled deeply and reached back to tug the sweaty t-shirt up and over his head, folding it and placing it on the yellow-dried late-summer grass.

When he stood back up, he felt… both vulnerable and free like this.

Sora looked over at him then and froze for a long moment. Then he stood, and while Riku watched he slowly pulled his own tank top over his head, discarding it behind him without breaking eye-contact with Riku.

There was a strange electricity in the air between them all of a sudden, even though no one had cast any magic spells. Riku wondered if Sora felt it too.

He forced himself to keep breathing, though his head was spinning a little.

Then Sora's eyes dropped to his bare side, to the scar, and Riku's hands clenched into fists. The charge in the air faded, replaced by something more intimate, more vulnerable.

“Does it...hurt?” Sora asked quietly.

Riku shook his head. “Not really, not anymore. It's just...numb.”

“I'm sorry...” Sora trailed off, then brought a hand to his own chest, against his own scar, to the place Riku had never let his gaze linger, for a variety of reasons. Mostly because he didn't want to stare at something that Sora would probably feel self-conscious about.

Riku took a step closer so they were just two feet apart now.

“What about yours?” Riku asked softly.

“Same, I think,” Sora answered in a whisper. “I don't really feel it much. I don't even really think about it that much anymore?”

Sora squared his shoulders, tightening his hand into a fist against the scar. 

“I'm...weirdly proud of it. I did it to save Kairi. It was really scary, to unlock her from my heart like that, but I did it anyway.”

“I'm proud of you.” Riku wanted to reach out to him to pull him into a hug, but they were both shirtless, wouldn't that make it weird?

Sora took another step forward and uncurled the hand against his chest. He reached out, letting it hover inches from Riku's scar.

“Can I—” His fingers twitched.

“Yeah,” Riku breathed.

He didn't really feel Sora's fingers against the damaged nerves, but he shivered regardless at the closeness between them in this moment. He watched as Sora brushed hesitant fingers over the damaged skin, but before he had a chance to reflect on how intimate this really was, Sora made it even more so when he smoothed his hand upwards across the sweat-slick skin, over the side of his chest, bumping over ribs and Riku shivered again.

“Sora…” His voice was rough and heavy with something, and his breath came a little faster.

Their faces were suddenly much closer as Sora rested his hand over Riku's heart, splaying tanned fingers over the pale skin there.

“It's like…” Sora started softly. “These scars are reminders of all that we did. How brave we were. Just like our hearts will always bear the scars as well and remind us.”

Riku smiled fondly, a little wistfully. “When did you get to be so wise?”

Sora raised his other hand to Riku's arm, the touch barely there against the tiny hairs, and Riku stopped breathing for real then.

Every brush of Sora's fingers sent his nerve endings into overload, every sense suddenly heightened as Sora was now so close he could feel the heat radiating from his skin. It was painfully intimate, and part of him wanted to pull away. Ever since the kiss — that had been for Sora, to comfort him, he reminded himself — they were always close, but not like this, and not with Sora looking at him like he— 

It wasn't even a maybe in his mind anymore, he realised with a jolt.

Probably.

But Riku had made his confession. He had told himself he would be patient. There was a line here, one he had stepped up to, one that Sora hadn't arrived at yet. All Riku could do was be patient and help Sora figure it out, hang back in this maze of hope and butterflies.

After a long moment of not breathing, Riku inhaled sharply and forced himself to step back, breaking the spell. Sora's hands fell back to his sides, and his eyes were wide and so, so bright in the afternoon sunlight.

Riku cleared his throat and turned back towards the wooden siding. “Let's finish this, okay?”

The next morning, they rowed over to the mainland for new clapboards from the lumber store, a camera for Sora and — apparently — clothes for Riku.

After tying up their boat to the docks, Sora stepped closer, effortlessly slipping his hand into Riku's, and Riku wondered absent-mindedly if he'd ever get used to this; Sora's easy affection, his touchiness, even now (especially now…).

With a sideways glance, Riku rubbed an experimental thumb across the skin at the back of Sora’s hand, revelling in the way Sora grabbed his hand a little tighter, not in desperation or fear, but with something warmer, something softer. The link — always there now — glowed brightly, which in turn engulfed his entire chest in warmth.

Sora met his gaze for a bashful shared smile before they set out. 

Their first stop was the lumber store, where they ordered new wood boards for the outside of the house. By now, they had become regulars, and the couple that owned the store always gave them little smiles when they entered. Riku showed them the clapboard section he'd taken as a sample, and they were happy to make new wood sidings to replace their damaged ones. 

After placing the order, the next stop was the electronics store, a large building at the edge of town. Riku hung back as the young shop attendant showed Sora all the camera options. It gave him the opportunity to bask in the way Sora was so earnest and uninhibited in his enthusiasm, the questions he asked and the little gasps he let out as the shop attendant showed him the options of the camera he seemed to like best. 

It had been a long time since he'd seen Sora so carefree. It made something inside of him flutter light and free, as well, like the seagulls on their island, like the butterflies and dragonflies in their garden.

Sora ended up buying the DSLR camera the attendant had recommended. He was practically vibrating with barely contained enthusiasm as they started making their way towards the mall for their final destination.

“Now I can document all the work we do on the house!” Sora exclaimed happily. “And I can take pictures of all the flowers, and the beach, and our spot by the lake. And of you, working!” 

Sora clutched the plastic bag with the camera box to his chest, and Riku couldn't help himself. He paused and when Sora turned to him in confusion, Riku reached out a hand to brush his knuckles over Sora's sun-warmed cheek. 

Something in Riku's chest soared, and he had never felt so free, so in love before.

Sora's eyes went soft, and Riku knew he didn't imagine the way Sora leaned into the touch.

“I love you,” Riku let the words slip out, though he didn't try particularly hard to stop them. He had said them before, but somehow in this moment, they felt even more true. He slipped his fingers into Sora's hair, behind his ear.

They stood in the middle of the sidewalk, and people were walking past them, but Riku didn't care. The world narrowed down to the way Sora's face lit up with happiness. He was practically glowing, the sunlight caught in his hair, his eyes sparkling.

Riku hadn't expected Sora to say it back. His brain and his heart were very much in disagreement, because his brain went oh, god, he's looking at you like you look at him, but his heart screamed caution, stop, he's not really, don't get your hopes up— 

“I love you, too, Riku.”

Both Riku's brain and shut up, and his eyes dropped from Sora's eyes to his lips and oh shit.

He glanced up again quickly, but that did nothing to help because Sora's eyes were wide, and the sunlight reflecting in them made them the colour of the sky above, and Riku held his breath. Sora's eyes also dropped, lingered on Riku's mouth for long seconds, before a pink tongue darted across his upper lip.

All at once, the electricity in the air between them was back.

And even though the place and the time weren't ideal, and even though he'd told himself the next move was Sora's to make, he could, maybe… He'd just need to lean down and— 

Someone bumped into Riku, sending him a step closer to Sora, who reached up a hand to his shoulder to steady him.

“Sorry,” the guy mumbled as he walked off, but Riku glared at his retreating back anyway. The moment was gone.

Riku dropped his hand back to his side as Sora giggled.

“You glare at people a lot.”

Riku blinked as he turned back to him. “I do?”

“Yeah,” Sora said. “When people stare at us when we hold hands, I mean. I noticed.”

“Oh,” Riku said.

“I don't mind if they stare. They don't mean it in a bad way.”

“I know that,” Riku said, clenching his fist. “I just wish… People would…”

He didn't finish the sentence, but Sora knew what he meant anyway.

“They'll learn,” Sora said, reaching out to grab Riku's hand. “We can hold hands if we want to. There's nothing wrong with that.”

Leave it to Sora to make things sound so simple, to make him feel better with just a few words. And then Sora surprised him even more when he closed the remaining distance between them as if in slow-motion, and went up on his tiptoes. Riku barely had time to blink before Sora pressed soft, warm lips to his cheek. It was just a second, it was hardly a kiss, but it was everything anyway.

When Sora stepped back, their hands still clasped between them, he was grinning at Riku like he knew exactly what he'd done.

Riku was torn between sighing like a lovesick idiot and rolling his eyes. He did neither. He swallowed around a suddenly very dry throat as Sora turned and tugged Riku in the direction of the mall again. 

Riku was sure they were walking closer than they normally did.

This time, it was Sora brushing his thumb up and down across the back of Riku's hand, and Riku's heart did its little fluttery thing that felt so nice these days when he didn't try to stop it, and he thought…

Maybe.

Probably.

Had they already crossed the line?

“I think you should try wearing jeans,” Sora said as he pulled Riku into the clothes store and towards the men's section. “You'd look good in jeans.”

“You mean for the date?” Riku blurted out without thinking and winced.

Sora turned back to him, a smile on his lips that was almost… petulant. “Why not?”

“Sora, I—” Riku started, but he really couldn't think of a good way to finish that sentence anymore once he turned and saw the look on Sora's face because his stomach suddenly turned in a very interesting way that was...nice. 

“Fine,” he said instead. “Let's look at the jeans.”

Sora let go of his hand to start rummaging through the racks — one hand still clutching the plastic bag with the camera — dumping the pairs he liked into Riku's arms as he hummed and tilted his head, and mumbled things like “this one's nice” and “no, not black, it's too dark.”

Riku just watched, resisting the urge to roll his eyes with every pair of jeans that Sora held out to him. Sora had...implied at least, that Riku should go on a date. Combined with the fact that Riku had told him he was in love with Sora… 

“You're a really cute couple,” a voice said from somewhere to Riku's right, and Riku snapped his gaze away from Sora.

A young shop attended smiled at them, her blond hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail.

“Oh,” Riku started. “We're not—”

“Thanks!” Sora said simultaneously.

Riku turned his eyes back to him, blinking. “Sora…”

“Oh,” Sora mumbled, his cheeks flushing a light shade of red.

The shop attendant giggled and made her way over. She held out her arms to Riku. “Please give me those, I'll bring them to the changing area. And let me know if there's anything else you need!”

When she was out of earshot, Sora turned to Riku, his cheeks still flushed, though he was smiling a little, almost knowingly. Riku felt an indulgent smile slowly growing on his face, and time seemed to slow again. 

His fingers twitched with the need to reach out and touch Sora again, so he curled them into a fist instead.

Suddenly Sora stepped closer, reaching past Riku, and Riku's eyes widened when their bodies pressed together just briefly before Sora stepped back again.

“Look!” Sora said, holding up a navy v-neck shirt that looked...very tight fitting. “This will go well with the jeans.”

Slowly, Riku reached up to take the shirt from Sora's hands, suddenly very aware of his rapid heartbeat and the way his face was too warm. Their fingers brushed against the fabric, but Sora didn't let go of the shirt. Riku realised belatedly that he should probably say something. 

But Sora was blinking, his eyes wide and focused, and all words left Riku's mind. Once again he was struck with the thought that he only needed to lean down a few inches. This time, Sora wouldn't taste like tears and dead roses, this time he'd taste like chocolate and sunshine. But Sora would melt against him in the same way he'd done before, and his lips would be just as soft…

Riku closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, but Sora was so close that he could smell his vanilla soap and suddenly his head was spinning, which did nothing to calm him down.

“Sora,” he said, because he had to say something, but his voice was hoarse and deep, and when he forced his eyes back open, Sora was staring at him with those same wide eyes, azure in the fluorescent shop lighting.

This was... This was definitely not a maybe anymore. It was starting to feel like more than a probably too.

What he said was, “You’re gonna have to let go of the shirt for me to try it on.”

Sora blinked as if coming out of a spell, dazed and open-mouthed, and yeah. Riku had been so careful, since his confession, he had only allowed himself the barest glimmer of hope, but this?

He let the corner of his mouth curl up into a little smirk.

Sora let go of the shirt and staggered backwards so fast he almost bumped into the jeans rack. “Oh, yeah…” His voice was way too high, and Riku watched him physically flinch a little.

“Come on,” Riku said, his voice back to normal as he turned towards the fitting area. “You can tell me how it looks.”

Riku tried on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and the navy shirt Sora had picked out, and he watched himself in the fitting room mirror for long minutes, turning this way and that. It was weird, seeing himself in such fitting clothes. He wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't look bad, per se, but… It had been months since he'd last worn anything other than shorts of a pair of sweatpants, and before that… The clothes the good faeries had made him had been functional, but not really well-fitting. Just the shirt, but he'd taken care to always keep the jacket on because it made him too self-conscious how tight the shirt had been. Especially since traversing the world of darkness, with the strong Heartless there, had made the shirt even tighter.

He'd lost some of that muscle now, but objectively, he knew he still looked good. 

“C’mon, Riku,” Sora called from outside of the fitting room. “I wanna seeeeee.”

Riku did another semi-twirl in front of the fitting room mirror before deciding it looked decent enough. He’d let Sora decide if it was a good look. It had been Sora’s idea to go clothes shopping after all.

He turned and opened the curtain of the fitting room, stepping out into the area where Sora was seated on one of the benches. 

Riku spread his arms, suddenly feeling more than a little stupid. “Well?”

Sora froze for long seconds, and with every passing second, Riku felt more self-conscious. Slowly, he dropped his hands back to his side, then behind his back. Sora’s gaze dropped from Riku’s face to his chest, then down to his jeans, blinking.

“Does it not look okay?” Riku asked, his voice just a little shaky with nervousness.

“No!” Sora said quickly, snapping his gaze back up. “You look okay. Very okay!”

Oh, Riku thought. Oh.

“You should…” Riku watched as Sora swallowed visibly, his eyes going down to Riku's chest again where his gaze lingered. “You should definitely buy this.”

Sora jumped up from the bench he was sitting on, and physically pushed Riku back into the fitting room.

“Get those jeans in both colours, the light and the dark one. And I'll get that shirt in white, too, it looks good on you.”

Well, Riku thought to himself with another tiny smirk, and he allowed himself a thought that surprised him. He might get to go on that date after all.

By the time Riku had paid for the clothes, it was mid-afternoon. After leaving the store, Riku dawdled on the sidewalk. On the one hand, they were done with their errands. On the other hand, they'd had fun in a way they hadn't had in forever. He didn't want the day to end and...

“God, I'm starving,” Sora whined, and that made the decision easy for Riku.

“You wanna get some food?” he asked, maybe a little too eager.

They'd never done this before. For all their visits to the main island, they had done their shopping and gone back home after. They'd never lingered, never just walked around, never done what Riku supposed other people did when they went into town.

In the beginning, they'd both been uncomfortable, scared even. Maybe by the other people, by being out in the open. Later, it had just sort of become their routine to do it like that. But things had changed. They had changed. 

Sora stared at him, and for a few long, long seconds Riku wondered if he should take the words back. But before he could open his mouth to do so, Sora broke into a grin and held out his hand once more. “Yeah!”

They walked around for a bit until they came to a coffee shop with outdoor seating where they found a table in the shade, beneath one of the large beige umbrellas. There was a wooden bench on one side of the table, and two chairs on the other side. But when Riku sat down on the bench, expecting Sora to take one of the chairs opposite him, Sora slid onto the bench from the other side.

Huh.

They placed their order with the waitress, coffee for Riku while Sora decided on iced tea and two brownies.

“Two?” Riku asked.

“I told you, I'm hungry,” Sora replied with a grin and playful gleam in his eyes, and Riku felt his cheeks heat up once more.

Sora put his plastic bag on the table when the waitress had left, taking the box with the camera out of the bag, turning it over to read the print at the back.

“Do you think it works yet? Or should I charge it first?”

“I don't know,” Riku said, reaching out to take the box from his hands. “Usually these things have a charge on them out of the box, I think?”

He opened the carton and took out the camera.

“Careful!” Sora said, scooting closer until their thighs were pressed together.

“It won't break because I took it out of the box,” Riku deadpanned, but Sora still eyed him dubiously.

Their drinks and Sora's food arrived, and Sora dug into the first brownie while Riku turned the camera over in his hands. He pressed the on/off button and then the autofocus button. After that, he held up the camera to peer through it, looking around the patio, then back towards where Sora was eating as if he hadn't had food all week.

“How did you know which buttons to press?” Sora frowned with his mouth full of brownie.

Riku smirked from behind the camera while he clicked the button to take a picture. When he removed the camera to look at the little digital screen, he saw the still of Sora with the fork in his mouth, his gaze focused on the camera, and the look on his face a mix of wonder and surprise.

“Lemme see!” Sora leaned into Riku's side even more, his weight warm and solid, and Riku relaxed. “Oh, that's good. I wanna try!”

“Eat your brownies first,” Riku said, turning his attention back to the camera.

“No way,” Sora said, one hand stretched out towards the camera, and because Riku really didn't want to be responsible for a damaged camera in a scuffle, he handed it back to Sora.

What would be the difference between this and a date? Riku suddenly thought.

Nothing, really, his brain helpfully supplied.

The thought left him flustered and he almost dropped the camera. Good thing Sora's hands were firmly wrapped around it by now.

Sora never moved away from his side though, not even with the camera now in his hands. The heat coming off Sora was incredibly distracting, but also really, really nice. Sora seemed to think so, too, as his cheeks tinted pink again while they locked eyes for a moment.

The silence between them lingered, but it wasn't uncomfortable, not really. It was just...nice. It felt like them.

“Hey,” Riku said gently, his voice low. “Try it out.”

“Oh,” Sora said, turning his attention back to the camera. “How?”

Riku reached over. “This is the autofocus button. Until you get used to the camera, using autofocus is easiest.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Sora asked, soft in the small space between them.

“I made pictures on my phone, too. It's not that different from a camera.”

Sora pouted. “Donald and Goofy never told me about the autofocus button. That would've saved me a lot of ruined shots.”

Riku snickered. “Well, you know now, okay? Just give it a try.”

Sora looked dubiously at the camera, suddenly shy. “What if I'm not good at it?”

Riku shifted, turning to the side, and before he was even aware of it, he had brought the hand that wasn't on the camera to Sora's face, his fingers on the curve of Sora's jaw and his thumb against Sora's cheekbone, warm and soft skin below the palm of his hand. Sora's cheeks flushed again. 

“Hey, remember what I told you?” Riku asked.

“What?” Sora whispered.

“You're so good at so many things.”

Sora shook his head, but Riku gently put the camera down so he could bring both hands to Sora's face, gently turning it towards him. 

“You always figure this stuff out. You taught yourself to swim because you wanted to beat me. You learned to wield a keyblade through sheer determination, no one taught you. You learned to cook, and to fly a gummiship, and all these other amazing things.”

Sora’s eyes went soft, and a bashful smile came to his face.

“You think so?”

“I know, Sora. Whenever you put your mind to something, you’ll figure it out and do it. I love that about you.”

“Aw, Riku…” Sora said, and then that familiar, comfortable silence settled between them again.

Riku stroked his thumbs across Sora's cheekbones as he struggled to keep his eyes from dropping to Sora's lips. “You'll figure it out, Sora.”

“Okay,” Sora said with a pleased little smile. 

Riku removed his hands, and Sora turned to his second brownie, shoving bites into his mouth as fast as he'd done for the first once. When he was done, he picked up the camera again, fiddling with the buttons, peaking at the screen.

Riku watched him, letting the warm feeling inside his chest take hold, and he recognised it as hope and fondness and happiness.

Happiness was the only emotion he hadn't catalogued yet, but he did now. It was easy, letting himself feel it, all this warmth, all this love.

Sora glanced sideways at him, and Riku wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Sora shifted to tug his legs underneath him on the bench and melted into him with a pleased little sigh, tugging the camera close to him.

For all the mistakes Riku had made, all the choices — good and bad — both he and Sora had still ended up here. So maybe the mistakes hadn't been all bad. Maybe even the bad choices had been a step in the right direction in the end if it had led them to this peaceful, happy moment.

And that was a comforting thought.

Chapter Text

The not-date had changed something between them. 

There had been a line at some point in time, Riku believed. A line between best friends and boyfriends, between handholding and kissing, between watching each other and looking at each other. It had been important for Riku to let Sora be the one to cross the line when he was ready. But lately, he couldn't help but wonder: what if they'd already crossed it?

It had been four months since they moved in together, and every day, Sora grew a little more confident, a little more sure of himself. And every day, something inside of Riku unwound as he saw Sora flourish. On top of that, every day, it felt as if they just fell a little more into being...boyfriends. If the line had already been crossed, Riku wondered when it had happened. Was it the moment he'd kissed Sora in the garden? Was it his confession under a starlit sky? Was it any of the times they still held hands when they went into town, only now it was exciting, and the smiles they gave each other had turned coy and a little giddy?

Even Sora's parents looked at them differently. The last time they had visited, Sora's mother had hugged Riku right before they left.

“I'm so happy you boys are together.”

There had been something in the way she had said ‘together’, something in the intonation or the fondness in her voice. It lingered in Riku's mind, he still thought about it every day.

In short, he and Sora had fallen into what Riku mentally called the ‘I am not sure anymore what you are to me, but that's okay, I just love you’ phase.

It was nice. It should've been complicated, maybe, but it wasn't. 

They started teasing each other again. Sora started making jokes again.

Riku couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Sora make a joke, but it happened almost naturally on the first morning after the not-date when they were still curled around each other in bed. Riku was already wide-awake, even though he was finally sleeping deeper and longer again these days and trying to relearn how to wake up slow. 

This morning, Sora was jittery though the sun wasn't completely up yet, obviously vibrating at the thought of going outside to begin using his camera for real.

Riku brushed a hand down Sora's back.

“Hmmm, go and play with your camera.”

“I don't play, Riku,” Sora quipped with a little huff. “You just wait. I'll be the best photographer on the Destiny Islands.”

“My bad,” Riku mumbled, but his heart fluttered when Sora squirmed a little impatiently, warm and a little too close, their knees bumping together. And when Sora pressed his lips to Riku's cheek before rolling over to bounce out of bed, Riku broke into an unwitting smile with his eyes still closed and rolled over to press his smile into the pillow.

Since that day, Sora went out every morning with his camera to take pictures of anything that caught his attention. Riku didn't know there were so many sights to photograph on their island, but Sora stayed out for hours at a time, coming back with sparkling eyes and a soft smile on his face, full of stories of the things he'd seen and photographed.

It was comforting and familiar, seeing Sora so passionate about something once more. It had been too long.

Riku did odd jobs around the house or read books until the moment when, sometime late-morning or early-afternoon, Sora's hunger and thirst became overwhelming enough to force him to take a break from taking pictures, and he would wander back to the house, finding Riku in the living room or wherever he'd been fixing up pipe connections or replacing the wood siding. 

Riku would get up and go into the kitchen to make them tea and peanut butter sandwiches, and he let Sora lean against him, even when Sora was sweaty and had dirt all over his face and sand in his hair. The camera that had become a continuous presence around Sora's neck dug into Riku's side a little, snug between their bodies.

“You’re making tea for me too, right, Rikuuuuu?” Sora said drowsily, dragging the last syllable in a whiny voice.

“Only if you say please,” Riku answered jokingly, words he would never have said a few months ago. But there was amusement in his voice, and he knew Sora would pick up on the fact that he was teasing.

Sora's smile when he looked up at Riku was so unguarded, so unabashedly Sora, that Riku felt his eyes sting.

“Please?” Sora hugged an arm around Riku's waist briefly, before stepping back to bring up his camera to snap a picture.

Riku couldn't help but smile because all of this was everything he'd ever wanted. It brought back memories of who they used to be, who he knew they would one day be again. The teasing and the touching and the knowledge that they had each other, the way they always understood each other without words.

“I love you.” Riku bent his head to press a kiss to Sora's forehead and brushed a hand through his hair, smiling when numerous particles of sand fell out of Sora’s hair and drifted to the floor. “But I really don't get how you always manage to get sand everywhere.”

“Sometimes I just need to lie on the beach to take better pictures.” Sora shrugged one shoulder, then snatched a peanut butter sandwich from the counter. Riku watched as Sora devoured it in three bites. Shaking his head, he turned back to the bread and the cutting board. He’d probably need to make a few more.

Just as often as he went out, Sora stayed close and moved around the garden or the house, taking pictures of the flowers, of all the things they had renovated, of all the little things they were still fixing up (even though Riku did most of the work these days). Sora tried to help him paint or clean some afternoons, but more often than not, it wouldn't take long for him to get distracted by the camera.

Riku didn’t mind, though. He had realised that he loved working on the house, loved fixing the holes in the wooden bedroom floor or the tiny cracks in the plaster. Loved installing the new shower stall, even though it meant they couldn’t shower for a few days. Renovating the house had become his outlet in the way that photography had become Sora’s. He loved taking all the less-than-perfect things and making them new and shiny. For himself. For Sora.

And every time he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed that there was a sort of...peaceful look on his face, and the dark circles from months ago had all but disappeared. His eyes didn’t look dull anymore, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind looking at himself in the mirror.

After a week of this, Sora came to Riku mid-morning while Riku was on his knees, painting the windowsills on the front porch. He paused to take in the concerned little frown on Sora's face.

“I can't take pictures anymore.”

Straightening, Riku brushed an arm across his forehead, wiping away sweat and possible getting paint on his skin in the process.

“What?” The glare of the sun behind Sora made Riku's eyes narrow into slits.

“Look!” Sora exclaimed indignantly, shoving the camera under Riku's nose. Riku had to blink until the blurry splotch on his vision went away. “It says ‘memory full’.”

When the blinking message on the camera screen came into focus, Riku had to resist the urge to laugh, though he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face.

“What?” Sora's pout deepened as he curled an arm protectively around the camera. “What's wrong with my camera?”

“Nothing's wrong with your camera. It means you took so many pictures that new ones don't fit on there anymore. You'll have to transfer the ones you took to the laptop.”

“Transfer to the laptop…” Sora drawled, blinking slowly. “That sounds really complicated. How do I do that?”

“With the cable that was in the box. You could also print the ones you like best. We could hang them up on the walls if you want?”

“Yeah!” Sora held out a hand to Riku. “Help me?”

Riku glanced back to the half-painted window-sill, then again to the pleading look on Sora's face. He sighed and reached out his hand to let Sora pull him up.

Once upstairs, Riku dropped into the desk chair and turned on the laptop. He connected the camera to transfer the pictures to a folder on the desktop as Sora draped himself over Riku's back, his arms dangling against Riku's chest, and the next breath Riku took made his head spin with Sora's sun-sweat-sand smell.

“How much longer?” Sora whined softly.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?!” Sora exclaimed indignantly with a loud exaggerated sigh in Riku's ear. 

“If you grumble about it, it'll take even longer,” Riku deadpanned. “Every time you sigh it adds five minutes to the transfer time.”

Sora slumped more heavily against him, his cheek warm and soft as he nuzzled his face in the crook of Riku's neck. “Noooooo… Riku, you're so mean.”

“Hey, who's helping you to get these pictures to the laptop? And here you're just complaining.” Riku chuckled as he felt Sora kiss the skin of his neck just above his collarbone, and he took it for the apology he knew it was.

When Sora began to pull back after several long moments, Riku spun the desk chair around, which sent Sora off balance and forwards into Riku's lap. Riku caught him easily, hands on his hips as Sora's hands went to Riku's shoulders to steady himself.

“Twenty minutes is so long, Riku…” Sora's voice was high, and all of a sudden Riku was acutely aware of the lack of space between their mouths.

“We can do something to pass the time?” Riku suggested.

Sora tilted his head, his eyes brightening. “Like what?”

I could kiss you, Riku thought involuntarily, and he felt himself blush. Sora shifted on his lap, and Riku glanced up at the ceiling for long seconds to compose himself. His breathing really shouldn't be this fast.

“You could pay me back by finishing the other half of the windowsill.”

“Rikuuuuu,” Sora whined, and he clung tighter to Riku, their chests pressed together, Sora's thighs tightly squeezed around his, and instead of tensing up, Riku softened and just held him closer. He loved these moments, more than anything. He loved it when Sora touched him, he loved how their intimacy during their darkest moments, born from separation anxiety and a need for comfort, had now turned into this.

And the link, strong and ever-present, glowed with life, and when he tugged on it just a little, he felt Sora tremble in his arms.

“I love you,” Riku blurted out. “You're my everything.”

Sora only held him tighter. “I'm yours, Riku.”

They sat in silence until a little sound indicated that the pictures had all been transferred to the laptop. At Sora's gasp and happy little whoop, Riku reluctantly pulled back. With his arms still around Sora, he stood and turned to set Sora down in the desk chair.

“Now, why don't you sort through them, and print out the ones you like best? I'll go and finish the windowsill.”

Sora nodded, eyes now focused on the laptop screen, and Riku’s heart had never felt so full, so at peace before. With a fond smile, he brushed a hand over Sora's hair before leaving him to sort through his pictures.

Riku wasn't sure if it was the camera or the confession, or maybe it was just a natural part of the healing process, but Sora's confidence had soared over the past weeks, which in turn, had lifted Riku's spirits as high as ever. Sometimes, Riku thought back to when they first moved in, back when Sora cried every day, and Riku had spent so much time just staring off into space. They'd really come so far.

This became tenderly obvious the moment Sora was cooking dinner the next night and then became so engrossed in hanging up his printed pictures on the hallway and the living room walls that he forgot all about the oven timer.

When Riku came back in after working to replace some of the rusty exposed piping under the house, the first thing he noticed was the pictures Sora had put up — and how almost half of the pictures had turned to be of Riku, smiling, painting, training, even sleeping. The second thing he noticed was the burning smell in the air.

He rushed towards the kitchen, fully expecting Sora to either be staring off into space, or possibly in tears over burning their dinner, but instead, Sora was merely considering the black mess in the oven dish with his bottom lip sticking out.

Riku hugged him anyway, arms going around his shoulders from behind.

“I got distracted,” Sora sighed, but he didn't even sound sad, there was only a note of resignation in his voice, and Riku felt a warm rush of pride, love, gratitude.

“It's okay,” Riku said. “We’ll just have grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner.”

Sora turned around in his arms to hug him back properly. “Yeah, okay…”

“I was in the mood for a grilled cheese sandwich anyway,” Riku muttered with his face buried in Sora's hair, inhaling the smell of flour and egg and paint and Sora.

Sora pulled back to beam at him.

The next morning, Riku woke to an empty bed, Sora's name on his lips, vague images of darkness and shapeless foes lingering in his mind, and he panicked just for a split second before he remembered where he was. The sunlight was streaming in through the windows, soft and golden. They were safe. Sora was doing better. He loved Sora, and Sora loved him.

They'd be okay.

He pulled on a hoodie and padded down the stairs, suppressing a yawn. He knew Sora wouldn't have gone out to take pictures without telling him good morning and where he was going, and Riku was right. Sora was seated at the kitchen table, wearing one of Riku's t-shirts again — which wasn't that uncommon these days, but usually meant he needed courage or comfort for something. His camera was on the table in front of him and next to the camera— 

Riku froze.

Both of their gummiphones.

Sora looked up, and at seeing the look on Riku’s face, he held out his hand wordlessly. After a moment, Riku went to him, taking his hand, warm and comforting, as he sat down on the chair next to Sora’s.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, even though it was fairly obvious what Sora was doing.

“I thought, maybe I’m ready to turn it on again,” Sora said softly. “I dreamed about Kairi last night. And now I’m wondering how she’s doing with her keyblade studies, if she’s still in Radiant Garden. And I thought maybe it would be nice if…”

Riku bit his lower lip as Sora’s grip on his hand became almost painful. “It’s a good sign. If you’re ready.”

“What about you?” Sora asked, his gaze still on the phones.

“I guess… I guess I am. I could be. I'm not sure I have much to say to anyone, though. But I could text Kairi. Or Naminé.”

“You've got friends, too, Riku,” Sora said with a sideways glance, and of course Sora would always see straight through him. “I'm sure Mickey would like to hear from you, too.”

Mickey… Riku reached out a hand towards his phone to take it from the table. Maybe it would be nice to talk to Mickey again. They had spent so much time together over the past years, and Riku couldn't deny he missed him, in spite of the way he'd left him without a goodbye the last time they saw each other. But he was feeling better now. He could...if not apologise, then at least ask Mickey how he was doing.

“I’m a little scared, though,” Sora said quietly, and Riku tore his gaze away from his phone. “It’s been four months. Who knows how many messages there are on this thing. I don't want—”

“I know…” Riku sighed. “It’s too much to think about, isn’t it?”

“I’d just like to text Kairi again. And Donald and Goofy. Or call my parents so we wouldn't have to go over to their house every time I need to ask them something.” 

Riku remained silent for a long moment. “What if I deleted all the messages?”

“What?”

“What if I turn on your phone and delete all the messages for you?”

Sora reached out with his unoccupied hand to take his phone and hand it out to Riku. “Yeah.”

Riku let go of Sora's hand to take the gummiphone, and he switched both of their phones on. He was careful to keep the screens angled away from Sora, making sure the sound was turned off as well. The screens lit up, and after seeing the rotating circle that indicated the search for a connection, the messages started coming in. 

Dozens of envelopes with names and smiling pictures popped up on both phones. Roxas, Naminé, Aqua, Donald, Goofy, Chip and Dale, Ienzo, Axel, Mickey… Riku deliberately ignored the text previews, instead lifting his gaze to look at Sora, who was staring intently at him with a mix of hope and apprehension on his face. Riku smiled at him to reassure him, and after a beat, Sora broke into a grin of his own.

“It’ll be alright,” Riku said, and then, because this felt important. “I’m proud of you. You’ve come so far.”

Sora shook his head. “Because of you. Because you give me the strength to do this.”

“No, Sora. This is all you.” Sora opened his mouth, presumably to argue, so Riku kept talking. “Like I told you. You're the strongest person I know. I know you said you felt worthless without your friends, but you're not. All of your strength comes from your heart.”

“Riku…” Sora's cheeks tinted pink, and he bit his bottom lip in an attempt to stop a pleased smile which came anyway. “I'm proud of you too, Riku.”

Riku's own smile turned little bashful and to hide his embarrassment, he dropped his gaze back to the phones in his hands. But when he started tapping the screens, it was with that pleased little smile and those words etched in his mind.

Select All. Delete All. Are you sure you want to delete all messages? Yes.

It took a few moments until all of the messages were fully erased and Riku could hand the phone back to Sora. "Here you go."

Sora pulled up his knees on the kitchen chair, bringing the phone closer to his face as he started tapping the screen slowly. Riku turned back to his own phone as he opened up his — now completely empty — message inbox. He wondered who to text first, but his thoughts kept drifting to the one person who’d stood by him through everything — through all of his doubts and his darkness. He opened up an empty message.

Hi Mickey. Sorry for not checking in earlier. Sora and I are okay. We bought a house on the Destiny Islands.

It felt…strangely normal, to send this message. It hadn't even been that long, he realised with a wistful melancholy. Four months was nothing, really, in the span of a lifetime. 

He received an almost immediate reply.

Riku, I’m so glad you guys are safe and okay. I’m sorry for everything. Please stay in touch!

Something uncoiled in his chest, a tightness he hadn't considered in depth before, like a balloon that had been close to bursting and had now let out a little air, and suddenly he felt he could breathe a little deeper again. Maybe he could ask Mickey to visit sometime. Even though he'd probably be busy with his kingdom and being a Keyblade Master — Riku winced at the title — Mickey might still...make time. Distantly, he thought they could also go visit Mickey, but the idea of being on the gummiship, of possibly being forced to call upon his keyblade again, sent a cold spike down Riku's spine, so he pushed the thought away.

When he looked up, Sora was staring at his phone with tears in his eyes, and for a moment, Riku's heart skipped a beat. But then Sora smiled, he smiled through his tears, and he showed Riku the phone to Kairi's Love you guys!!! beneath a picture of her posing in front of the Radiant Garden Castle.

Riku couldn't help himself, he reached out to Sora, who fell forward into his embrace, and he shook in Riku's arms, but it was okay. Sora was okay. He was okay. As long as he repeated that to himself, they'd get there.

And just like that, their world became a little larger again. They may not have been ready for gummiships or missions or keyblades yet, but it was a start.

The next day in the supermarket, Riku spotted a pile of flyers for the new boardwalk carnival that they had been building on the far side of the main island. It was out of the way, so neither of them had seen anything of the construction, but the opening was apparently planned for this Saturday. With fireworks at 9 pm, the flyer said.

While Sora was preoccupied with the shopping bags, Riku snatched one of the flyers from the service counter, and an idea began to form in his head.

Earlier, he had told himself he'd give Sora time, but that was before the ‘maybe’ had turned into ‘probably’ and then into cheek kisses and hugs and touches that lingered for a little too long to be purely platonic. And he thought back to their kiss and Sora's 'I want it to be me' and his ‘You might need to go on a date’, and the way had Sora stared at him in the clothes store, the electricity that always seemed to hum between them, and everything about this made Riku realise… He probably only had to ask.

He thought he would need time to gather his courage, but with the opening on Saturday, he was on a little bit of a deadline. Which meant that in the end, it only took two days of walking around with the flyer burning in his pocket until he felt confident enough to bring up the subject.

It was after one of Riku's training sessions on the beach, when they were both sitting cross-legged opposite each other after Riku finished the fruit bowl Sora had made him as a late breakfast, that he took a deep breath and—

“They're opening the boardwalk carnival on the main island this weekend.” His voice was calmer than he felt. He could still get out of this if Sora didn't want to. It was just an innocent question, really, it didn't have to mean anything...

Sora looked up from where he was hammering open the coconut he'd shaken out of a tree. His face lit up, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Really?”

Riku nodded, his breath hitching. “Do you wanna go?”

“Of course I wanna go!”

Riku paused, biting his lip for a brief moment before continuing. “I mean, together.”

Sora furrowed his eyebrows, his gaze intense as he tilted his head. “Of course. Who else would I wanna go with?”

Riku smiled, in spite of himself, because that was the most Sora-esque response he'd ever heard, and he shouldn't have been surprised.

“But I mean like…" Riku trailed off and swallowed. Suddenly he regretted he'd already finished the fruit bowl because he would really like to have something in his hands right now.

Sora scooted closer, the coconut temporarily forgotten in the sand. Their knees bumped together, the touch sending a ripple that rocked through Riku's entire body. Sora just stared, waiting patiently for Riku to find his words.

“Together as a date?”

Sora's cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink, and his eyelashes fluttered for a moment during which Riku held his breath. Then Sora flung himself into Riku's body, arms sneaking tightly across his neck as Riku's instinctively came up to wrap around Sora's slender waist, and the momentum of Sora's launching made both of them topple over into the warm sand. Sora nuzzled their cheeks together, letting out a happy sigh.

And while that was nice, more than nice really, and Riku was pretty much fluent in Sora-speak that he could read this reaction for what it probably was, there was just one percent of him that wanted the spoken confirmation.

“So… Is that a yes?”

Sora turned his head to kiss Riku's cheek, and then they were matching shades of pink. Riku wanted to turn his head away because their faces were too close like this, it was almost too much, but the gleam in Sora's eyes made that impossible.

“Yes, you dummy,” Sora said through a ridiculous grin on his face. “Yes.”

Funnily enough, asking Sora out for a date turned out to be the easy part. Preparing for the date was much harder. It was still three days until Saturday, which left Riku with three days to think about things that he had not taken into account earlier like what he should wear, how he should style his hair, and if it was weird to go on a first date when you already lived together and basically already did everything together?

He supposed he and Sora had never really cared much for relationship boundaries or doing things in order though, so maybe it wasn't weird for them.

Then there was also the matter of the fact that the opening of the boardwalk carnival would attract a crowd of people, which made him a little anxious on top of the fact that he and Sora were going on a date, and why hadn't Riku just asked him out on a date to the beach? Or just coffee?

However, this was all outweighed by Sora’s boundless energy at how much he was obviously looking forward to it. Sora had trouble sitting still at the best of days, but now he was literally always moving, legs kicking against the kitchen chair while they ate, fingers tapping against Riku’s knee when they were sitting next to each other on the couch. He even spent an afternoon cleaning the bathroom and the bedroom because it gave him something to do. 

All of this filled Riku with equal parts joy and jitters because what if they went on their date and Sora didn't like it? Where would that leave them?

Friday afternoon, Naminé sent him a message: Stop freaking out, everything will be fine.

“Did you tell anyone else about our date?” Riku looked up from his phone to where Sora was bent over the coffee table, doodling in his notebook. 

The look on Sora's face turned into a sheepish lopsided grin. “I may have told Kairi?”

Well, since Kairi and Naminé were both at Radiant Garden Castle, that made sense. 

Okay, thanks, I'll try :) Riku texted back. The idea that Naminé had thought of him and wanted to make him feel better made his chest feel fuzzy and warm, as if someone had covered him with a soft fleece blanket.

Then Saturday afternoon came, and at 3 pm, two hours before they were supposed to leave, Sora locked himself in their bedroom and forbade Riku from entering it.

“I need time to get ready!” he just called when Riku knocked.

That was another something that complicated things, so Riku sighed and left to clean the kitchen while Sora did...who knew what. Their house had never been so clean, Riku thought amusedly. They should go on dates more often.

At 4:45 pm, Riku heard Sora call out from the hallway. “I'm gonna wait by the boat! Bedroom's all yours.”

It was probably a good thing this only left Riku with fifteen minutes to shower, brush his hair, and put on the clothes he had envisioned himself wearing. He didn't know why he'd spent three days questioning his outfit because really, he knew what Sora would like him to wear. Sora had taken him shopping for this outfit, had stared wide-eyed when he'd seen Riku in it, and that was presumably a good sign.

With his hair still damp, and his navy shirt and skinny jeans just tight enough that he felt more than a little self-conscious, he made his way over to the dock. Sora was sitting in their boat, facing away from him, staring in the direction of the main island, and Riku couldn't see the expression on his face.

He coughed to make his presence known, and Sora started and swung around so fast he had to throw out his arms to keep himself from falling off the wooden seat.

“Riku!”

“Were you expecting anyone else?”

Sora grinned, and Riku was pleased to see his gaze drop to Riku's chest, and then down to the skinny jeans. It wasn't really a surprise, but it was nice anyway when Sora swallowed visibly. Then he stood, making the boat sway a little with the sudden movement.

Sora was wearing red shorts and a yellow loose-fitting t-shirt, which was so Sora that Riku smiled fondly, and he felt some of the nervous jitters in his stomach dissolve at the sight and the thought.

“You look really nice,” he said because even if Sora didn't look any different from usual, Sora always looked nice.

“Thanks…” Sora blushed and threw his arms behind his head with a little bashful smile. “Kairi told me to wear what I feel good in.”

Riku held out an arm, and Sora jumped out of the boat and onto the wooden dock, moving into the half-embrace comfortably, naturally. Riku buried his face in Sora's freshly washed hair, revelling briefly in the whiff of coconut and peach. “Kairi was right.”

They rowed over a little after 5 pm with the sun already low on the horizon, illuminating the sky in pastel hues, and after tying up the boat, Sora fell in step with him as naturally as always, their fingers and their palms coming together. 

It wasn't nerve-wracking at all, Riku realised, because they'd done all of this before. It was barely different from their usual walk into town. Only this time, they were surrounded by twilight and the faint music from the carnival in the distance, and rather than stop in the centre of town for their groceries and books, they instead took the path that led towards the beach and the boardwalk on the other side of the island.

Riku remembered this place from years ago, but with the carnival, it was so different. Back then, it had just been a beach and a wooden boardwalk and a few seagulls. Now, it looked just like the picture on the flyer. There was a brightly illuminated Ferris wheel, a wooden roller coaster stretched along the edge of the terrain, and multiple other rides, food stands and an area with a dozen or so carnival games. The music was much louder here, and it filled the hot air, mingling with the shrieks and screams from the children in the roller coaster.

Riku turned his head to see Sora's face slack in wonder, lit up by the flashing neon colours in front of them — bright green, red, blue. Sora held his breath for long moments before he turned to Riku with a grin.

“This is going to be so much fun!”

Riku chuckled softly, pulling Sora a little closer.

“When we were taking our Mark of Mastery, there was this world called Prankster's Paradise, do you remember?” Sora asked Riku as they made their way down a path with lanterns and strings of sparkling lights on either side. “I went to an amusement park there!”

Riku thought back to his own time in Prankster's Paradise, which had just consisted of a long search through Monstro. He didn't even know there had been an amusement park there, but he was glad Sora got to experience that part of the world. It was fitting.

“I like this better though!" Sora continued. "That place was kind of abandoned, although I did get to go on the Ferris wheel with Jiminy for a bit. We didn't have to wait in any lines, but here, there's a lot of people…” Sora trailed off, his face slipping into a little frown as he took note of the amount of people already there.

“It'll be fine,” Riku said softly because he knew what Sora was thinking; it was also on his mind. “And if it becomes too much, we'll just go and sit on the beach, okay?”

“Okay!” Just like that, Sora's frown was gone again. His emotions were like a yo-yo at times, spinning from low back to high in the blink of an eye. “Also, Riku, there's another reason why this place is much better.”

“Oh?” Riku asked as they reached the entrance of the carnival, and Riku handed over the entrance fee to the guy at the ticket booth. “What's that?”

Sora was distracted for a long moment, looking up at the Ferris wheel with a happy look on his face.

“Sora?”

“Oh!” Sora jumped and turned to look at him. “Because I'm with you this time, of course!”

Sora said the words so easily, so earnestly, and Riku loved him so much then that he subconsciously sent the warm giddy feeling in his chest down the link. Sora swayed next to him and squeezed his hand, and Riku blinked himself back into the moment.

“Okay,” Riku said bashfully, which made Sora smile. Then, “What do you wanna do first?”

Sora looked around them at the myriad of options. Amidst the flashing lights, the speaker of the carousel exclaimed it was time for a new round. “Can we just walk around for a bit first?”

“Sure,” Riku said, setting off.

The sun had gone down completely now, but the lights around them on every attraction were so bright Riku wondered if they'd be visible from out there in the Ocean Between. Even though the carnival was already crowded, it was still relatively early, so it wasn't overwhelming yet. What was a little overwhelming was the music blasting from every ride and stand. Riku glanced sideways, but Sora was just looking around in awe.

They hadn't gone fifty feet before Sora's stomach grumbled. 

“Oh,” Sora said with a grin.

Riku chuckled. “Do you wanna get some food?”

Sora nodded vigorously.

“Anything in particular?”

“I wanna try everything,” Sora said.

It turned out Sora when he said everything, he really meant everything. They queued for hotdogs which they ate while they strolled across the terrain, looking at the various rides and stands. Then Sora wanted a chocolate-covered banana, of which he handed half to Riku (it's your dessert, Riku!) and after that, he claimed he was still hungry enough for a large strawberry ice cream bar.

They only let go of each other’s hands when they absolutely had to, and Riku was so engrossed in the butterflies in his stomach and Sora’s excited babbling next to him, that he didn’t even notice if people stared at them or not.

They could stare. He knew now that Sora didn’t care, and he didn’t mind anymore either. Here, they were just two boys on a date, and the people of the Destiny Islands would just need to get used to that.

The air around them was hot, and both of their hands turned sweaty, but that was okay. Sora liked staying close to him because of the crowds (and possibly just because Sora always liked staying close to him, which was a bit of an exhilarating thought).

When Sora finished his ice cream, they arrived at a ride that seemed to consist of several large teacup-shaped cars spinning around on a platform.

“Did you know I can summon attractions like these when I fight now?”

Riku blinked. “What?”

“Yeah!” Sora exclaimed. “I'm not sure how, really. I just think of what I like or what I'm in the mood for, and if my magic is high enough, they just...appear. For example, I can summon spinning teacups like these. They're super useful for taking out parties of smaller heartless.”

Riku shook his head. He already knew Sora would probably never stop surprising him, but it was still fascinating every time it happened. 

Distantly, he realised this was the first time either of them had brought up the topic of Heartless in close to five months. And Riku's chest didn't even clench up. He simply smiled because Sora was smiling. It was a good reminder of the fact that…they really would be okay.

“So…” Riku grinned. “You wanna try if these are just as cool as yours?”

“Yeah!” Sora said with a laugh.

They got a teacup all to themselves despite the relatively large line because the girl directing people to their teacups took one look at their joined hands and grinned. “Hey, Sora and Riku, right? I remember you, we were in middle school together. It's nice to see you back on the Destiny Islands!”

"Oh!" Sora said happily. "Thanks!" 

Once in their cup, Sora pressed close to Riku's side immediately, so Riku wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him there. And as the teacups started spinning, the forces of the movement brought them even closer together — or maybe that was Sora shifting and hooking his right leg over Riku's left ankle. Riku couldn't really tell, but he also didn't particularly care. Not when it felt like this.

The neon lights flashed around them, and he could only barely hear Sora's laughter close to his ear over the loud music blasting from the speakers. Everything between them was warm and sweaty, and a little thrilling, and the way Riku's stomach twisted at that moment had nothing to do with the way the teacup spun.

“These teacups are way more fun than the ones I magicked up,” Sora said giddily after they got off, and Riku was pretty sure Sora was exaggerating his dizziness so he could lean heavily into Riku's side. If not, Riku wondered how Sora had managed after each of his magical attraction summons. 

He smirked a little and tugged Sora closer as he guided them towards the rollercoaster.

They stopped for a huge cotton candy and an extra-large coke on the way. Sora's idea was to share them both, but as Riku had predicted, Sora's idea of sharing turned out to be ‘I will eat/drink this first, and you'll get the leftovers’. 

Riku didn't mind. He still thought Sora needed the calories much more than he did (even though Sora kept insisting he'd grown a whole inch since they moved into their house), and watching Sora eat with his childlike enthusiasm never got old.

Riku held the soda and Sora held the cotton candy, and as they queued for the rollercoaster, Sora made a show of picking the sugared strings off the stick. He alternated shovelled large pieces in own his mouth with offering Riku equally large hunks. Riku couldn't do anything but open his mouth and let Sora push the cotton candy in there. He then watched with wide eyes as Sora licked his own fingers, and Riku almost forgot to chew.

“Stop flirting and move down the line.”

Riku jumped and flushed, turning around to see a father with two children smirking at them, then nodding at the metres of empty space in front of them. Oops.

“Sorry, sir,” Sora said through a mouth full of cotton candy, but he didn't really sound sorry at all, just grabbed Riku's hand again with sticky fingers, pulling him along to rejoin the line.

“Hey,” Sora said suddenly. “If we go on the Ferris wheel, do you think we could see our house from up there?”

Riku looked up at the top of the Ferris wheel. “Probably?”

“Then I wanna do that later too.”

Riku honestly didn't care what they did. Going on all the rides was fun because Sora was so sincere and passionate about all of them. Getting food was fun because it meant he got to watch Sora eat and Sora fed him bites of everything he tried. Just walking around was fun because even that felt new and exciting with the way Sora was always so close.

As the evening went on and the amount of sugar that Sora consumed grew, Sora got more bouncy, his eyes brighter and his hair a little more messy from the sea breeze and the rides. Both of them were more than a little sweaty now, so Sora insisted on cold strawberry milkshakes to cool them down.

On their way to the Ferris wheel, they walked past the stand of an older woman who sold art made from driftwood. Sora barely breathed as he traced a hand delicately over the finely carved wings of a tiny wooden sandpiper, and gently petted the painted fur of a dog. His eyes lit up when he saw the wooden seagulls that hung from the stall's ceiling on thin wires.

“Ahhh, Riku, we can hang these up on the porch!” Sora exclaimed, bouncing with excitement as he reached out to trace the edges of the wooden birds with a finger.

“They're only a hundred munny each,” the woman said with a grin to Riku. “Special offer for you.”

Riku refrained from rolling his eyes — special offer, sure — and handed over two hundred munny so Sora could pick out the two birds he liked best. Sora beamed at him as the woman wrapped up the birds in paper and put them in a little plastic bag, so really, what was two hundred munny compared to that?

Out of everything they did though, the Ferris wheel was probably Riku's favourite part. He didn't know what it was, Sora's boundless charm or something about their vibe, or just sheer luck, but they got another car to themselves. Riku swung the bright yellow car back and forth a little as the wheel started moving with a low whizzing sound, and Sora pretended to be scared and grabbed onto his arm.

“Ahhh, Riku, you're gonna make us fall down.”

“Good thing you can fly, then,” Riku grinned, and he shivered as he felt Sora's hand slide down his arm deliberately until Sora's fingers were curled around his wrist in an almost protective gesture.

“That's true,” Sora said. “Guess I just need to hold onto you, then, so you won't fall.” 

As the car went up higher, Riku didn't even look at the view, his eyes were glued to Sora, literally glowing in the sparkling lights around them, his hair a beautiful golden-brown windswept mess.

Until Sora gasped and pointed. “Look! We were right! You can see our island. And our house!”

Riku tore his gaze away to look where Sora was pointing: their island, their house, illuminated by the full moon and clear night skies. Sora sighed deeply and rested his head on Riku's shoulder. “I don't think I ever wanna live anywhere else again.”

“Me neither,” Riku said softly.

Riku didn't know what he liked best — the fact that Sora didn't move again for the rest of the ride, or his fingers slowly tracing up and down the tender skin at the inside of Riku's wrist. Or maybe the way he could feel Sora's warm skin through his t-shirt and the slow rise and fall of his rib cage.

Either way, the Ferris wheel ride was definitely his favourite.

After the ride ended, they passed right by a photo booth set up next to the Ferris wheel exit. A photographer had set up a “Destiny Islands Carnival” sign, embellished with a silhouette of the carnival rides above ocean waves.

“Ahhh, Riku, we need to get a picture taken as a souvenir because I didn't take my camera or my gummiphone.”

“Are you afraid you're gonna forget about this night if we don't?” Riku teased softly, nudging Sora's shoulder with his own.

Sora stilled and turned to Riku, his gaze just as bright as the lights around them. “No. I'll never forget tonight.”

Oh.

Sora stepped closer, slipping his hands around Riku's waist, fingers curling into the belt loops of his jeans. Riku's heart rate doubled in the space of two seconds, and his mouth fell open. 

“Sora…”

“Just like I'll never forget everything you've ever done for me, Riku.”

Oh. What a time for Sora to turn serious all of a sudden.

They were standing next to the photo booth, and people were bustling past, but the rest of the world just disappeared as Riku’s attention focused on Sora — the chattering crowds, the deep beats from the sound effects from the rides, the flashing lights, the smell of churros, it all faded away.

Riku brought both his hands to cup Sora's cheeks. “I love you, Sora. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Everything.”

“I know,” Sora whispered, tears in his eyes. “I know.”

“And you're always giving me the strength to do it, too. You make it so easy for me to…” Riku trailed off, and Sora tugged him closer then, crushing them together in a desperate hug. Riku's arms went around Sora's shoulders instinctively. “Thank you.”

“I love you, too, Riku,” Sora's voice was a little muffled, but Riku felt every word vibrate through him with an invisible force. “I always have, and I always will.”

Riku wouldn't cry in the middle of a carnival, he wouldn't, but he trembled as he felt Sora tug on the link this time, soft and familiar, and he tightened his hand in Sora's hair.

“Okay,” he said after long moments, as the rest of the world came back into focus with the electronic beeping sounds from the Tilt-A-Whirl to their right. “Do you still want that picture?”

“Of course!”

They were both soft-eyed and pink-cheeked, and when Riku saw the picture that was taken of them at the booth, he saw his own hair was just as windswept as Sora's. Sora was smiling at the camera, his smile easy and affectionate, but what struck Riku most about the picture was the way it had been taken during the exact moment he had glanced down at Sora, and the look on his face was… Riku almost had to close his eyes as he saw it, was this really how he looked at Sora? It was the softest, most tender expression he'd ever seen on anyone, and he almost had the urge to press the picture against his chest so no one else would be able to see it.

Sora smiled at him like he knew what Riku was thinking — and honestly, he might have done — before reaching up to smooth Riku's hair into shape.

Then he put the picture in the plastic bag with the driftwood birds and took Riku's hand again. “You wanna go look at the carnival games?”

“Sure,” Riku said because he really didn't mind what they did, as long as Sora kept smiling at him and kept holding his hand.

They strolled towards the back of the carnival grounds, where the crowds were less thick and the attractions less loud. They passed the stands with Ring Toss, Whack-a-Mole, and basketball hoops.

“You know most of these games are rigged, right?” Riku said. “So the chances of actually winning something are really low.”

Sora turned to him with a little shove to his shoulder, the corner of his mouth turned up into a little smirk. “Does this mean you’re not able to win me something?”

“Oh, you’re on,” Riku said, returning the smirk. “Name the game.”

Sora looked around them, scanning the stands one by one. Riku wondered what he was looking for, but he remained silent and let Sora think. Then Sora pointed to the brightly coloured Balloon Bust stand (“Throw a Ball to Pop a Balloon!!!") and the row of large stuffed animals at the top. “I want one of those.”

Riku tried not to feel too guilty as he handed over fifty munny in return for three balls to throw at the balloons. He knew the balloons were probably underinflated, and the balls he received were too soft to be able to pop the balloons at all. The game operator would probably make a lot of munny with his stand. Riku didn't need to feel guilty over what he was about to do.

“If you pop three balloons, you can pick out any of the prizes,” the guy said with a wide smile.

“Okay,” Riku grinned, and he threw the three balls in quick succession at the balloons pinned up against the back. Even though he hadn't used his keyblade in months, he'd been doing some training, and his aim and his muscle power were maybe not the best they'd ever been, but definitely enough to pop three balloons. Especially since he infused the balls with just the tiniest bit of thunder magic.

Next to him, Sora jumped up and down as the balloons popped, clapping his hands excitedly. “Oooooh, well done, Riku!”

Riku turned to him with a grin, waving an arm at the row of stuffed animals. “Take your pick.”

“I want the pink teddy bear,” Sora said, pointing at the one he meant.

The game operator guy's smile flickered only minutely at having to hand over a prize before he took the teddy bear off the display and gave it to Sora, who immediately cuddled it close to his chest. “Aww, Riku, thank you!”

Riku didn't even care anymore who saw, he slid his arm around Sora's waist easily, and Sora moved closer to him as they walked off.

“I saw what you did with the magic, though,” Sora whispered.

“Well,” Riku said, his heart so light he tightened his arm around Sora for fear he might float away. “I won't tell if you won't.”

Sora laughed, and it was the best sound Riku had heard all night.

“You wanna go and watch the fireworks from the promenade back up there?” Riku asked because it was close to 9 pm now, and though he didn’t want the evening to end, Sora’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shiny and wide in the way that they used to get when Sora was little and they'd been running around outside all day. And Riku had to admit all the sensory input from the evening had made his eyes itchy too, and he suppressed a yawn.

“Yeah, okay,” Sora mumbled, and he let Riku steer them through the crowds towards the exit and up towards the promenade again.

There were more people up there, all watching the beach where the fireworks would be ignited.

Instead of standing side by side, Sora moved in front of Riku, hugging the teddy bear to his chest as he leaned back against Riku's front. In turn, just as the first fireworks whooshed up into the night sky in front of them, Riku slipped his arms around Sora's chest, resting his chin on top of Sora's head. He felt Sora's chest expand with a deep sigh before he relaxed in Riku's arms. 

The fireworks erupted above them in bright displays of red, green and yellow, and each burst of colour was followed by a loud boom. The people around them oooh’d and aaah'd, but Riku felt Sora start a little at the sound of the explosions, so he tightened his arms around him and pressed a kiss into Sora's hair.

More fireworks went up, each one more beautiful than the last. Every burst set the sky aglow with sparkles that fell before burning out. Sora had relaxed again, the explosions no longer making him wince, and instead, Riku could feel his gasps at every pretty firework that went off overhead.

He couldn’t see Sora’s face like this, but it wasn’t hard to picture his enthralled look of wonder and delight. There was a faint smell of sulfur in the air, and it mixed with the whiff of coconut and Sora.

The show only lasted around fifteen minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Riku. It was miraculous, how every time something happened that made Riku think he was the happiest he'd ever been…something else happened and topped it. Now it was Sora warm and soft and solid in his arms, his head tipped back against Riku's chest. It filled Riku with so much love and light that once again he was incapable of not sending it down the link.

With the way Sora was shivering a little, letting out happy little sighs and mutters, Riku could tell he didn't mind.

Afterwards, they walked back to their boat in the moonlight, Sora's right hand warm and a little sweaty in Riku's, his other arm curled tightly around the giant pink teddy bear. Riku was carrying the plastic bag with their souvenirs.

When they got to the dock, Sora insisted he was unable to row because he had to look after the teddy bear, something Riku didn't have the heart to argue, although he allowed himself a minor eye roll. Then as he rowed them over, Sora started listing all the things they'd done tonight, and it was all worth it just to see Sora's happy grin and to listen to him chatter about chocolate-dipped bananas, hot dogs, Ferris wheels and spinning teacups.

Riku tied up the boat while Sora rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet just behind him, a little bundle of energy even though it was getting late now. It was probably the sugar rush. He’d crash later, hopefully just in time for bed.

Their hands came together for the remaining distance back to their house, but on the porch, they paused in unison, turning to each other. Riku set down the plastic souvenir bag on the top step.

His heart was suddenly in his throat. Sora's eyes were bright and intensely blue in the moonlight, and Riku's gaze was drawn to Sora's mouth without prior approval by his brain. He blinked, forcing his gaze back up.

“Thank you for walking me home,” Sora said softly, teasingly, and Riku had missed that teasing grin so much, the way Sora's eyes sparkled as one corner of his mouth curled up. 

And then Sora let out a little giggle, and Riku’s heart skipped one-two-three beats.

He leaned in just a little, his left hand going to the side of Sora's face. Sora's eyes slipped partly closed, and Riku stopped himself just inches from his goal. They'd kissed before of course, but this...this felt profoundly different. This felt like a new beginning. There were no tears this time, no despair. There was just Sora, and Riku just wanted to give him the world, always.

“Riku…” Sora's breath was hot in the space between them, across his chin and neck, and he smelled like sugar and strawberries and a hint of sulfur from the fireworks.

“Sora, are you—”

Sora didn't reply but instead pushed himself on his tiptoes, his hand on Riku's shoulder to balance himself as he closed the remaining distance between them to bring their lips together. 

It was everything at once. It was like the rush of a rollercoaster speeding down and it was the perfect patient starry night. It was the beat of a thousand drums and a gentle ocean breeze. It was Sora smiling against his lips, and Riku sliding his hand back into soft, unruly strands. It was cotton candy and stickiness, and it was Sora, Sora, Sora.

Riku didn't know how one single moment could be so perfect. 

Then they broke apart, barely, neither willing to put any further distance between them. Riku hadn't seen a smile this big on Sora's face since the day Riku was named Master, and he knew he was grinning in much the same way.

“Does this…” Sora's hand shifted up, and his fingers came to rest lightly against the back of Riku's neck. It made a satisfying shiver run up Riku's spine. “Does this make us boyfriends?”

Riku swallowed thickly, but his grin only grew wider as he slipped his hand out of Sora's hair to rest it against Sora's neck. His cheeks — which he was sure were just as flushed as Sora's — were almost painful from the stretch.

“I don't know,” he said teasingly, and he wasn't afraid of the answer, but he wanted to hear Sora say it. “Do you want that?”

Sora's blush deepened, and he did the tapping thing again. In response, Riku tugged them flush together with the hand that had slid down to rest against the dip in Sora's spine.

“Yes,” Sora whispered. “Yes, I want that.”

So Riku kissed him again because this seemed like the kind of confession that you should seal with a kiss. 

“Does that make me gay, too?” Sora asked as they both pulled back.

Riku shook his head. “It doesn't make you anything. You're just you. You don’t have to label it if you don’t want to.”

“I don't know. I just love you,” Sora said, and Riku's stomach erupted with a new wave of butterflies, wild and fragile, and he knew Sora felt the same because he shivered against him. The link felt so alight that it was like a beacon, guiding Riku home, and their hearts felt so connected that Riku could hardly tell his heartbeat from Sora's anymore. 

“I love you, too,” he whispered. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And, Riku thought, if he only ever loved Sora and would never again love anyone the way he loved Sora, was there a word for that?

“Kissing is much nicer when I'm not crying,” Sora said softly.

Then he kissed Riku a third time, complete with smiling mouths and dry warm lips and all the hope in the world, so Riku stopped thinking altogether.

He knew now, beyond a doubt, that nothing was broken anymore.