Archive of Our Own ^beta

Being back on the islands was not as easy as Sora had imagined.

He had assumed, perhaps a little naively, that once he and Riku stepped through the door to light and appeared on the beach of their childhood play island — basking in the sunlight and the feel of the sea breeze on their faces — that everything would magically be alright. Sora had found Riku. Just like he had wanted, like he had dreamed about for so many weeks, months… (Or maybe it had been a year by now? Time moved strangely when you hopped between worlds.)

And he and Riku had done it; they had defeated the bad guys, they had saved the Realm of Light. There would be no more stress or worrying. They would fall right back into their old lives, and everything would be okay. Sora would tell Riku all about his adventures, and Riku would tell Sora his, and they would row over to the play island to swim in the ocean and climb the rocks on the far side of the island, and they’d sit shoulder to shoulder on the paopu tree, just like old times.

But, it turned out it wasn’t that easy.

Their first night back was. Or had appeared to be. 

The lost kids had returned: the news buzzed about the islands, and people came from all over to see them. There was a big party that first night to celebrate, and all the houses in their street joined in. There had been strings of lights and smoky barbecue food and loud music, and everyone had been so nice to them. Kairi had done most of the talking (she had always been the best liar out of the three of them), but Riku had been there by his side throughout the entire evening, and that had been enough for Sora. Whenever he felt a little sad or forlorn, he only needed to glance to his right, and Riku would be there, his face carefully blank, his body stiff, his replies soft yet polite, but he was there.

That was all Sora wanted, really.

The days after the party blurred together, a whirlwind of activity that distracted Sora enough so he didn't realise at first that something was off. There were school books to buy and new uniforms to fit, and there was figuring out what it felt like to sleep in his own bed again, and how to talk to his parents again, and there was learning not to panic the second Riku wasn’t in the same room as him. 

But no matter how physically close Riku was — at his side at the party, or sitting together on the bed to sift through the books they would need for their first day — Riku's eyes remained a little sad, and he never mentioned anything about his own adventures. Sora talked about the words he visited, and Riku would listen, but not join in. He was there, though, and sometimes he even smiled at Sora. He definitely seemed content in some way, but Sora realised quickly that Riku never reached out to touch him. That should maybe have been his first clue, but he chalked it up to the fact that they had been apart for so long. Maybe they just needed to get reacquainted with each other?

The second clue was that something inside of Sora had shifted. His world had been tilted off its axis, and he didn’t know why. He and Riku were together again, and Riku was never far from his side, so what was it that he couldn’t figure out? There was this need inside of him, that was familiar, yet different, a heaviness underneath his skin that only eased when he could see Riku. That made the nights especially difficult, but Sora just curled up on his side and hugged his pillow, hoping this feeling would pass eventually.

The third clue — and the most important one — happened on their first day back to school, Monday morning, a week and a half after their return. 

Sora was excited to go back to school (no one was more surprised than him). The idea of school reminded him of earlier times, when the world was small and easy and when everything made sense. When all he had to worry about was his latest assignment or how to solve math problems. In his excitement, Sora was — to his own amazement — five minutes early to Riku’s house, and he stood and waited on the pavement, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Riku smiled at him when he came out of the door — it was just a slight uptilt of the corner of his mouth, but it counted — and Sora smiled back brightly. Though Riku held himself a little awkwardly, one hand on the strap of his backpack, the other in his back pocket, they fell into step together and it was, well, Sora wouldn’t say easy, but definitely comfortable. He tried to make it comfortable, anyway. 

He talked about his class schedule and about how heavy his bag was and wondered out loud if Kairi would be just as excited to start school again. At least Kairi hadn't missed over a year. And then, after he glanced around to make sure there was no one else close enough to overhear, Sora even talked about his keyblade, and how they could maybe row over to the play island to spar someday soon if they didn’t get too much homework.

Sora didn’t notice it, but while he talked, he drifted closer and closer to Riku. But then, he suddenly did notice, because with the next step, his arm accidentally brushed against Riku’s elbow, and the next thing Sora knew, Riku had recoiled as if he’d been burned.

Sora’s heart jumped into his throat at the sudden movement. “Riku?”

Sora’s eyes rounded with shock and darted sideways to Riku’s face. Riku’s gaze was downcast, his jaw set, and Sora’s heart crashed from his throat into his stomach with the speed of a Sliding Dash. He stopped breathing for at least ten seconds while he waited for Riku to respond.

“It’s nothing,” Riku said lowly, and Sora looked towards his hands. They had clenched into fists. The expression on Sora’s own face fell even more.

“Riku…”

But Riku didn’t reply, and they finished their walk to school in silence.

That was the first time Sora realised something was Wrong with a capital W. And now that the thought had entered his head, it was all he could think about. 

The Wrong stuck with him all through his first day back at school. It passed in a blur of classes, and talking to familiar and new people, and taking notes, and marvelling over how many things he had missed during their time away. A year was enough for people to have different hair colours, and people had boyfriends or girlfriends now, and friends had fallen out, or parents had divorced. It was a lot to take in.

But his attention was only partially on his classmates and the classes themselves. The remainder of his attention kept replaying the morning’s moment with the accidental arm brush in his mind, over and over like a broken record.

In Biology class, Sora tried to remember when he had last touched Riku — really touched him. Sora had grabbed his hand when they reunited, but Riku had been like a statue then. Sora hadn’t thought much of it at the time; Riku hadn’t been himself, he hadn’t wanted Sora to find him, of course he’d been startled and anxious. 

And then, after they had beaten Xemnas, Sora had helped him to the Dark Margin, and he had touched Riku then, but that had been a necessity. It hadn’t really been a touch born from affection.

When was the last time he had hugged Riku? Held his hand? Touched his shoulder in reassurance? They used to touch each other all the time when they were younger, carefree and affectionate; why couldn’t he remember the last time they had really made physical contact?

Was that why Riku had reacted the way he did? Maybe it had just been too long, maybe Riku had forgotten what they used to be like, together.

Sora remembered the other kids in middle school teasing him because boys weren’t supposed to hold hands, because apparently, it meant something Sora hadn’t realised, and they had made fun of him for it. Yet despite that, Sora hadn’t cared. He liked holding Kairi’s hand, and he liked holding Riku’s hand even more, and nothing the other kids would say could change that fact. 

He loved how it made him feel fulfilled, when sometimes they would just lie on the beach and stare up at the clouds together, and Riku would lace their fingers together, and Sora would like it.

He would still like it, Sora just knew. Just thinking about it made him crave Riku's touch again. It wouldn't have to mean anything, they could just hold hands like they used to. It made him sad to think Riku might not like it anymore, might not want it the same way Sora did if the morning's flinch was anything to go by…

Being in different years meant different class schedules, and Sora had to wait for a full hour on the low brick wall around the schoolyard for Riku’s class to finish. Of course, he could walk home by himself, it was only a fifteen-minute walk, but where would be the fun in that?

When finally, Riku showed up, Sora’s heart soared in a way that surprised him. Riku was tall, taller than almost all the other kids in the schoolyard, and his hair caught the sunshine and made it glow almost golden instead of silver. And when Riku smiled just a little when their eyes met, a slight curve of lips just like this morning, Sora couldn’t help the bright smile from spreading across his face. 

He jumped down from the wall and, with a determination he had not expected, made his way to Riku’s side.

“Hi,” he said, his voice wavering only a little.

“Hi,” Riku replied, and his smile became a little bigger, lifting the wariness from his face. His eyes were really green and really bright.

Sora fought against the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch Riku — just a hand against his elbow, or maybe a brush of fingers to the belt around his school uniform trousers. He didn’t want to startle Riku like this morning though, so he would have to be subtle about this. Subtlety wasn’t his strong suit, but he would try, for Riku.

“Can you believe I already got homework?” Sora sighed, pouting up at Riku a little. 

It had the desired effect since Riku’s smile turned into the barest of smirks. The ‘blink and you miss it’ kind of smirk. “Oh no. Whatever will you do.”

“Well,” Sora said brightly, pleased with his plan. “Luckily my best friend is really smart, and he’s really kind too, so he always wants to help me with my homework.”

“Ha,” Riku huffed, and Sora watched in fascination as Riku's cheeks tinted slightly pink.

On their way home, Sora was careful to keep enough distance between them so they wouldn’t accidentally touch again. Maybe the best course of action here was to give Riku some space, to let him figure things out on his own. Riku had been through a lot, Sora knew he didn’t even know half of it. Maybe it was only normal that Riku wasn’t ready to touch or to talk about all the things that had happened to him yet?

It was pure habit that made Sora follow Riku back to his house, since Riku’s mom would be at work, and they’d have the place to themselves, like old times. That also worked out nicely, because Sora figured being at his own home would maybe make Riku feel more at ease.

They drank lemonade and ate chocolate chip cookies while they swapped stories about their classes and how weird it was being expected to sit still after not having a single moment's rest for so long. 

Afterwards, they did their homework at the kitchen table. Sora moved his chair as close as he dared, silently hoping for Riku to close the final distance, only Riku never did. But he didn’t move his chair away either, so maybe that was a small victory.

Doing homework was difficult when Sora's brain was more occupied with thinking of a moment in which he could reach out and touch, but Riku was exuding a particular kind of nervous energy that Sora didn’t know how to handle. He didn't know how to bridge this gap. 

Eventually, they finished without Sora finding the right moment, and they spent the rest of the afternoon playing video games, a safe foot apart from each other. 

It was hard to be upset when Riku was right there, but being so close yet so far away sent a mix of joy and sadness through Sora. It confused and uprooted everything inside of him, much like the winds on the islands during a tropical storm would knock everything into disarray, scattering branches and garbage cans everywhere.

How could he be sad when Riku was right there?

But Sora couldn't help but remember how they used to bump shoulders and brush elbows while playing games before, and the corners of his mouth turned downward and taut.

Time. Riku needed time. And Sora needed patience. And maybe more courage.

Things continued like this for a week. School, homework, light conversations, and video games. And most of all, Sora working up the courage to touch. Part of him kept waiting for Riku to reach out first, but Riku never did. There was always a safe distance between them. Riku loved to spend time with Sora, Sora knew that. They spent virtually every waking hour together, and though Riku seemed nervous at times, he smiled a lot when they were together, too.

Yet they hadn't touched once since that one accidental arm brush.

But it finally happened next Monday afternoon. They were doing homework at the kitchen table, as had become their after-school ritual. The courage inside of Sora had been slowly building all week — with Riku’s every joyful whoop at a racing game victory, with every time Sora managed to complete a math equation and Riku smiled almost proudly, with every time they met during lunch break or after school on the schoolyard and Sora knew Riku was happy to see him, even though he never said. 

And eventually, his courage seemed to have built high enough. 

Their shirt sleeves were rolled up as they worked, exposing Riku’s pale skin that Sora’s gaze couldn’t help but wander to. He felt drawn to that skin, like a bee to sun-warmed nectar, and he thought…maybe. Slowly, he shifted his arm holding his pencil across the table, closer and closer to Riku’s inch by inch. The second before they would touch however, he raised his gaze, meeting Riku’s eyes, wide and stormy like the ocean, and time seemed to stop.

Their skins were so close that Sora could feel the warmth coming off Riku’s, could feel the soft and tiny hairs that already touched. Maintaining eye contact, Sora closed the final inch. 

Riku didn’t flinch away this time. He remained carefully still, though Sora could feel him trembling. 

And the thing that had felt off-balance inside of him ever since they returned suddenly seemed to slot into place. Something tense that Sora hadn’t realised was there unwound, and that needy feeling he had been having for so long now suddenly felt eased, like the relief of drinking a large glass of cold water on a really hot day. 

Sora hummed happily, and he dropped his pencil on the table with a soft tick to wrap gentle and deliberate fingers around Riku’s wrist. He watched as Riku closed his eyes, but he didn’t look sad or upset, he looked… Sora didn’t know the word. Relieved? Amazed? 

They sat like that for a long few minutes, just breathing, touching. Sora moved his fingertips back and forth, feeling Riku's pulse fluttering underneath, feeling the warmth, the softness of Riku's skin. For some reason, he felt like crying all over again, and he realised suddenly this was something he had missed almost as much as he had missed Riku's presence. 

It was a long time before they went back to their homework.

From then on, it was easier. Sora made sure to make eye contact with Riku, and he would wait for Riku’s barely-there nod, and then he’d move closer so their arms would brush. They sat shoulder to shoulder when doing homework or playing video games, or on the paopu tree during the weekend. After a few days, Sora felt particularly brave on the way back from school, and before he could change his mind, he took Riku’s hand, sliding his suddenly sweaty palm against Riku's. He held fast, even when tingles spread up from his hand to his elbow, all the way up to his shoulders.

He worried Riku would not like the hand-holding, especially since they were outdoors, but Riku just grabbed his hand tighter, as if he was clenching his own fist, and Sora felt glad that he had tried, that this was something he could do for Riku. For both of them.

It was a week later when Sora had an epiphany during his Chemistry class. Kairi was in the seat in front of him, whispering to Selphie. Sora was only partly listening, partly making the weird chemistry equations in his book, when all his thoughts ground to a halt.

“If you like a boy and want to hold hands with him, you always need to make the first move, Selphie. Because most boys are scared to be touched.”

Sora stared at the suddenly meaningless equations swimming in front of his eyes.

He had figured out that Riku had gotten hesitant with his affection even before they went on their adventure. Even back then, Riku had stopped reaching out, had stopped touching. Sometimes Sora had reached out instead, but the more Riku barely responded, the less Sora reached out, too.

Maybe Riku had been scared to be touched. Maybe he still was.

Or worse, maybe Riku didn’t think he deserved to be touched now, after everything.

Or maybe, the worst idea of all, Riku didn’t like to touch him anymore. But then, why had he looked so relieved when Sora touched him? Why did he nod when Sora wordlessly asked permission? Why had he held Sora's hand so tightly, despite the heat and the sweat?

Maybe more touches would be the way to go after all. And if Kairi had been right — and Kairi was often right — Sora would have to be the one to initiate them. 

After Chemistry, he and Riku ate their lunch together on the grass outside near the blitzball field, just the two of them as had become their new ritual. There was no one around, they were shielded from prying eyes by bushes and the blitzball bleachers.

Sora didn’t feel fully ready to test his barely formed hypothesis, but he had also never really been known for his restraint, especially not when it came to Riku’s happiness. And he’d tried waiting, he’d tried being patient, but Riku hadn’t reached for him once in the three weeks they’d been back, so maybe it was time for a new plan of action.

Sora took an apple out of his lunch bag, turning it over and over in his hands, his fingers sliding across the cool, smooth skin, then toying with the stem. There was a little brown spot on the apple, he noticed. Even though he'd not be able to eat that particular bite — he'd have to spit it out — the rest of the apple would still taste good.

“Riku?”

“Hmm,” Riku said, halfway through his peanut butter sandwich.

“Can I hug you?”

Riku stopped chewing, his jaw going tense as his eyes shot to Sora's.

“What?” 

“Can I hug you?” Sora repeated, suddenly anxious, and he had to fight the urge to look back towards his apple. 

Riku had frozen, his eyes darting from Sora to his sandwich to the blitzball field. He was holding the sandwich very tightly, Sora noticed. Then he drew up his legs so he could wrap one arm around it.

Sora kind of regretted asking. It was probably a weird thing to ask, and now he'd ruined the mood by opening his big mouth. He wanted to take back the words, but he couldn’t. They’d been said.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Sora added instead, and he winced at how sad his words came out. He’d meant for them to be reassuring.

But Riku raised his gaze and inclined his head just a little bit, before giving a minute shake of his head. “Not here. This afternoon. After school. At home.”

“Okay!” That new and exciting thing inside of Sora leapt and whirled wildly, and Sora bit into his apple, not even caring if he'd bite into the brown spot or not. Then he smiled around a mouth full because he was too giddy to keep all these feelings inside, it was impossible to keep them from spilling out.

Riku smiled back, his cheeks a little pink.

Time seemed to cruelly slow down to the barest of minimums for the rest of the day, and it was an eternity before the final bell rang. Sora raced to his usual waiting spot on the brick wall, jumping up and kicking his feet to and fro while he chatted to some of the people who walked past. Tidus and Wakka asked if he wanted to play blitzball with them after school, but Sora shook his head. For some reason, he couldn't stop smiling what was probably a ridiculous grin.

“Thanks, but I've got plans.”

“Must be some good plans,” Wakka smirked. 

“Yeah,” Tidus said. “You're practically glowing.”

“Is there a girl involved?”

“No,” Sora snapped his mouth shut and tried to glower a little, but he knew the effort was probably futile. Thankfully, Tidus and Wakka refrained from further comments, launching instead into a conversation about next week's blitzball game, and Sora zoned off.

Not here. This afternoon. After school. At home.

The words seemed etched into his mind, and the anticipation was almost too much for Sora to handle. Was that stupid? What did it even mean? It was just a hug… 

But he knew it was more than that. Whatever the reason Riku wasn't reaching for him anymore, Sora would make it his mission to make them touch more, if Riku wanted that too.

It seemed important. It somehow felt like the right thing to do. Finding Riku, reuniting with him, wasn't enough, he had to do this to complete his search.

Finally, long, long moments after most of the other kids had gone home, Riku came out of the front doors of the school. Then, as they walked to Riku's house, there was something between them, something strangely nervous and giddy, but not in a bad way. Sora always wanted to be close to Riku, but now, the feeling was amplified by the anticipation. A sparkling electricity buzzed underneath his skin. He wanted to ask if Riku felt the same, but the words died in his throat every time he coughed and tried. 

So they didn't speak. 

Silence with Riku was never uncomfortable, but it gave Sora too much opportunity to think. What would it be like to hug Riku? Would Riku be soft or would he be more solid? Would he like it if Sora wrapped his arms around his waist tightly? Or should he be more gentle? Would Riku hug him back? Riku had gotten really tall and big, it would probably be really nice to feel his strong arms around him.

Sora lost himself in his daydreams, and the next thing he knew, Riku was pulling his house key out of his pocket and opening the front door. 

Sora's nerves returned a thousandfold. It was weird. He had hugged Riku countless of times, many of them moments that he didn't even remember. Why was this time so special? 

As if in a trance, he followed Riku inside and up the stairs to Riku's room. There, they dropped their backpacks next to Riku's desk, and when Sora shook himself and straightened to turn to Riku, he found Riku already staring at him with a carefully guarded expression on his face. Sora swallowed so hard it hurt but stepped forward regardless, so close he could now reach out his right hand to bring to Riku's chest — waiting, as always, for Riku's little nod before he touched.

The next part happened in slow motion.

Sora slid his hand across Riku's shirt, to his side. He curled his fingers in the fabric there, and he felt Riku's warm skin underneath. He wasn't consciously aware of moving closer, but either he had, or he'd pulled Riku closer to him, because the next thing he knew, he was looking up at Riku, and Riku was suddenly right there. Green, fearful eyes looked at him intently through a silver fringe.

“Why're you scared?” Sora whispered, bringing up his left hand to mirror the position of his right.

“Sora…” Riku sounded as if he'd been crying, but that wasn't right. Riku never cried.

“Talk to me, please.”

“You don't know the things—” Riku swallowed, trying to take an abrupt step back, but Sora didn't let him go.

“Then tell me. I wanna know.”

At those words, Riku froze. Sora’s eyes shot to his, but Riku had his eyes pressed shut. The look on his face was pained, and Sora could see the tense line in his shoulders, all the way to his arms and his hands, which were curled into fists.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Riku said, but his voice came out a little high, a little strangled.

“Please?” They had come so far. What could have happened to make Riku close off again like this? Was it the hug? Did Riku not want to after all? “Please tell me.”

“Sora, I can’t, you’d…” 

Riku tried to pull away, twisting a little to get away from Sora, but while Sora had been so good, so patient in giving him space, there was something inside of him that told him that this wasn’t the moment to let Riku go. Something inside of him called out, and he knew the answer to that call would be inside the boy in front of him, his best friend, the most precious person in his life, the one he would search for — wait for — forever.

Sora's grip on Riku's shirt was so tight that his hands started aching with the effort. But that didn't matter. It was far more important that Sora didn’t let Riku slip back into his own head right now.

Their touches had been helping, Sora was sure of it. So what had changed?

“I would what, Riku? Talk to me, please.”

Outside the crickets were chirping softly, and inside the clock on Riku's wall was ticking faintly, and Riku was breathing a little too hard — but Sora could scarcely hear any of that over the churning worried thoughts in his brain.

He was thinking so hard he almost missed Riku’s whisper. “You’d hate me.”

That made Sora step closer again, shaking his head so fast that it made him dizzy. There was…an emotion inside of him that he didn’t recognise. It was almost like anger, but it was deeper, more personal. Without being fully aware of what he was doing, he was moving, his arms sliding around Riku's shoulders, their chests pressed together.

Riku made a strangled noise above him.

“Riku, I could never hate you. Never, ever, ever.”

“Sor—”

“Never. Tell me you believe me?” Suddenly, there was nothing more important than the answer to that question. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” Riku said so softly that the words were little more than air. “I believe you.”

At those words, all tension left Sora's body, and he relaxed into the hug. 

He'd been thinking about this moment all day, but now that it was here, it was so much more than he had imagined. Rubbing his cheek against Riku's shirt, he sighed deeply. He could smell everything about Riku, it was a little sweet like banana and something deeper, something sweaty and tangy that was just Riku.

After long silent moments, he felt Riku go limp and heavy against him, felt Riku's arms come up and wrap around his shoulders, and Sora stopped breathing. Everything was just…so nice and warm. It made him feel at ease and go pliant, nuzzling against Riku's chest in a way that made Riku's breath hitch.

Somehow, they ended up on the bed. Sora vaguely thought he might have pushed Riku over there, but everything was a little hazy.

Riku was on his back, and Sora had his arms and legs wrapped around him like a koala bear, clinging so tightly for fear Riku might disappear if he didn't. And who knows, he might still. He'd done it before, and part of Sora would maybe be scared forever it would happen again.

Time no longer seemed relevant. At some point, Sora got hungry, but the feeling was distant. He was aware of it on some level, but it wasn't important, so he could just disregard it.

He started talking instead.

He had to shift a little so his mouth wasn't pressed against Riku's shoulder and he could speak better, but he kept one arm and one leg draped over Riku for maximum contact. It seemed important that they touched everywhere, and Riku wasn't complaining. Riku's arm was around Sora's shoulder, his hand drawing faint circular patterns on Sora's back.

Over the past weeks, he'd told Riku about Donald and Goofy, about the friendships he'd made and the worlds he'd seen. But he hadn't told him before how lonely he'd been, searching for Kairi, searching for Riku. How many times he'd cried himself to sleep, his arms wrapped around the pillow stolen from the bottom bunk, pretending it was Riku he was hugging.

But he talked about these things now.

He talked about feeling as if something had been missing inside his chest, and about the relief he'd felt when he realised Riku had been the one he'd been fighting against in the Land of the Dragons, that Riku had been alright. He talked about the determination he'd felt to track Riku down, and then — finally — the sheer weight of the emotional release when he'd found him.

Sora was crying now, and he stumbled over his words, hiccupping and with sobs burning in his throat. He had to pause to breathe, shaky inhales, and he pulled back just a little so he could look at Riku.

Riku's eyes were wet, and he was looking up at the ceiling.

“And I didn't know how I felt when I found you. There was just an explosion of emotions inside of me, and I was both happy and sad, and relieved and worried, and scared… Riku, I was so scared…”

Tears streamed down Sora's cheeks, and he wiped at them futilely with the back of a hand.

“Sora, don’t cry.” Riku's hand moved to Sora's hair, and it was such a comfort to have it there, the solid press against his scalp a soothing presence. “If you cry, I’m gonna…”

“Good,” Sora said between hiccups, burying his face in the warm skin of Riku's neck. “Crying is good for you.”

He wrapped his arm and leg tighter around Riku's chest and thigh, feeling the tremors of Riku's repressed sobs run into his own body. But there was still more to say, so he started talking again.

He talked about how the emotions when he found Riku had been confusing. But after the final battle, after they'd had a moment to breathe, in the Realm of Darkness, he had just felt relief and happiness because they were together, the one thing Sora had wanted most. It wasn't even that he didn't know what to do next, it was literally that he didn't care.

When Sora was finally done talking, he felt exhausted. He was breathing hard, as if he'd fought off a million Heartless. And he was cold, even though the room was just as warm as always, and he was shaking with an intense, emotional chill that had settled into his very bones. But having all these words out in the open was a relief.

Both of them seemed to have run out of tears, they were just breathing now, a little ragged and uneven.

“I'm so sorry, Sora,” Riku whispered.

“I love you,” Sora replied, and Riku froze.

“Sora…”

Those three words had been unexpected, and Riku's reaction was maybe a little worrying, but Sora blinked through the dried tears in his eyes and refused to take them back. “I love you.”

“You…”

Sora clung to him tighter and spoke the words a third time because he liked how they felt in his mouth, how his tongue curled around the word love because it was such a beautiful word. And it was true. “I love you.”

Instead of replying, Riku wrapped both arms around Sora's shoulders, and they shifted so they were on their sides. Riku didn't say the words back, but Sora felt them anyway, in the stuttering breathy sound he made, in the way he pulled Sora towards him and the way his fingers dug into Sora's back.

And that was okay.

Neither of them did any homework that day, but that was okay too.

Sora could see Riku growing a little less sad after that day. Riku's smiles came more freely, he talked a little more (although still not a word about the time they'd been apart), and it was seven days after their hug, that Riku reached for Sora.

Sora was a few minutes late, so he'd been running towards Riku's house this morning, and Riku was leaning against the mailbox when Sora arrived. He was a little out of breath, but that didn't stop him from grinning up at Riku.

“Good morning,” he wheezed.

Riku's face relaxed into a smile. “Good morning.”

And before Sora could say more, Riku had reached out a hand to stroke across Sora's cheek, then brush away a stray tendril of hair. Sora's eyes widened in astonishment, his mouth falling open.

“Riku…”

There was a flicker, and Riku's eyes darkened with an emotion Sora could not name, before Riku's hand dropped back to his side. “Sorry.”

“No,” Sora said, stretching out his arm to take Riku's hand in his, grabbing a little too tightly. “It's okay. Please.”

Riku shook his head doubtfully, so Sora held tighter. Skin to skin, it tingled, and it felt so nice, he never wanted to let go again. So he tugged until Riku fell into step with him, and he glanced up with sudden shyness, his cheeks becoming warm. “Is it? Okay?”

Riku's breath hitched sharply, but he nodded, and Sora's shyness melted into a wonderfully warm glow.

After a few steps, Sora tugged on Riku's hand until he could fit both their hands in his trouser pocket. Not because it was a secret, but because it felt more intimate like that, warmer, something just for them. It felt right.

When Riku pulled his hand back the block before school, Sora felt weirdly empty. And then, minutes later when they separated to find their respective classrooms, he was able to put into words for the first time what it felt like to walk away from Riku. Even though he had to do it multiple times a day, every time it felt like there was an invisible rubber band between them, stretching the farther they moved from each other. It was almost painful at times. Walking away from Riku always felt like walking uphill. 

In contrast, walking towards Riku felt like going downhill; easy, fast, natural. It was sometimes like falling, flying even. That thought at least reassured him when he couldn't stop thinking about the feel of Riku's hand in his own and the heaviness in his body whenever they weren't together. It would only be a few hours before they'd be together again.

After school, Kairi joined him on his usual spot on the brick wall.

“Does Riku seem off to you?”

Sora thought for long moments before he replied. He wasn’t sure what Kairi meant. Riku maybe seemed a little off in the sense that touching seemed hard for him, but the touching was a thing between him and Riku, he didn’t want to talk about it with Kairi. It felt personal, private. Too intimate for anyone else to know.

“Not really,” Sora replied, drawing up a leg to pick at the laces of his shoe.

Kairi hummed. “It’s just, he doesn’t smile anymore.”

Sora opened his mouth to say ‘What are you talking about, he smiles all the time’, but he stopped himself just in time and made a non-committal humming sound instead. Kairi could interpret that however she wanted to.

“You've been spending a lot of time with him.”

Sora squinted, processing the words and Kairi's tone, but she didn't sound spiteful or jealous. She had just been stating a fact.

“Yeah,” Sora agreed, stating a fact of his own. “I missed him.”

“It's good,” Kairi said. “I think Riku needs a friend now, and I think that friend is you.”

“Yeah…” Sora couldn't help but agree. 

She jumped off the wall and gave Sora a smile. “Just, look after him, okay? Don't hurt him.”

“Why would I—” Sora frowned.

Kairi shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

“Then how—”

“Never mind.” Kairi just smiled, flinging her hair over her shoulder. “Selphie’s waiting, I gotta run. See you tomorrow, Sora!”

Kairi’s words had shaken Sora more than he cared to admit. He would never hurt Riku, why would Kairi even think that? When Riku showed up, fifteen minutes later, he still hadn’t figured it out. He waited for Riku to come to him this time, so he could hop off the wall and right into Riku’s personal space. 

“Riku?”

“Yeah, Sora?”

“I would never hurt you, okay?”

Riku’s eyes jumped to his, and suddenly there was a flicker of that fear again. Even though Sora was trying to reassure him.

“If I ever do anything that hurts you,” Sora continued. “You would tell me…right?”

“Where is this coming from?”

Sora took Riku’s hand, not even caring who saw, and pulled him out of the schoolyard and onto the sidewalk. “Kairi said something…”

“What did Kairi say?” There was fear in Riku’s voice as well as his eyes now, and Sora regretted even bringing this up. Usually, talking to Riku helped him sort through his thoughts and feelings, but this time seemed different…

“Nothing, really. She said I shouldn’t hurt you, but I don’t understand. Why would she think I would hurt you?”

“I…don’t know, Sora.”

As they walked, Sora turned Kairi's words over and over in his mind, but he couldn't figure it out. Maybe Kairi hadn't meant anything specific? But that didn't really seem like Kairi… Did it have to do with the touching? If Kairi had seen them touch, maybe she was worried the touching wasn't good for Riku, because he was scared of it sometimes?

Was Riku scared of it? Sora realised he didn't even know, really. Would it be weird to ask?

He shoved their joined hands into his pocket again, remembering how nice that had felt this morning, and that at least seemed to make Riku relax a little.

But Sora couldn't get Kairi's words out of his head. Holding hands wasn’t enough, even though that touch was nice and warm and the best kind of comforting. So when they made it home, he dragged Riku up the stairs, and over to the bed, pushing him down against the mattress and lining up their bodies so there wasn't an inch between them. They didn’t do this every day, but Sora needed it now, needed the reassurance, the feeling that Riku was here.

They shifted a little, knees bumping together until they found the best way to slot together. Sora fit perfectly against the curves of Riku's body, his head in the hollow between Riku's shoulder and neck, his legs over Riku's, his arms around Riku's.

Mercifully, the tension inside of Sora just melted away.

And when Riku brought hesitant arms to wrap around his waist, Sora felt like he belonged, right here, in this moment. He didn't need anything else, ever again.

“I love you,” he whispered, hot and wet against Riku's neck, and Riku shivered.

“I don't deserve you…” Riku whispered close to his ear.

Sora pulled back just a little, shifting so he was resting on his elbows, one on each side of Riku's head.

“You do. You really, really do.”

Riku was a puzzle. When they were little, the puzzle had been simple. But the older they got, the more complicated the puzzle became, and Sora hadn't been able to piece it together completely for years now. He'd been getting closer, he might be closer now than ever, but there were still pieces missing, because Riku wouldn't tell him. But now it suddenly occurred to Sora that maybe he should just ask.

“Riku?”

Riku nodded.

“When we touch… Do you— Does it—” Sora shook his head, glancing up at the ceiling for a long moment to compose himself. “Do you like it when we touch?”

“What—” 

“Please tell me… I can't— I don't—” I can't read you anymore. I want to hold onto you, I never want to let you go again, I want to touch you all the time. “Do you want it too?”

The clock ticked, and a car passed by on the street as Riku opened his mouth and then closed it again. The look on his face turned sad — wistful — but this time, Sora wanted to study him and figure it out.

“Yeah,” Riku said at long last. “Yeah, I want it too.”

The wave of relief that crashed over Sora made him crumble right back into Riku's arms. He blinked back the sudden scalding tears. “I'm so glad, Riku… I missed you so much—”

“I'm scared, though,” Riku continued, to Sora's surprise. “I'm scared this isn't real. I'm scared that it's just a dream and that I'll wake up, and you'll be gone.”

Sora tightened his arms around Riku's neck, but he was afraid to speak because he didn't want to interrupt.

“I'm afraid if allow myself this, that I—”

It was one of the hardest things Sora had ever done, staying silent, and he trembled with the effort of it. But Riku held him tighter, his cheek pressed against Sora's hair, and Sora knew he would need to be patient here.

“But I like it…the touching. It scares me, how much I need it. I think about it all the time. I’m scared of touching you. But I think I want it more than it scares me… I need you, Sora.”

Maybe it wasn't just that Riku was a puzzle by himself. Maybe they had become a puzzle together, and Sora hadn't been able to complete it because he hadn't realised. But with every word Riku spoke, the puzzle pieces of their combined puzzle slotted into place, and suddenly Kairi's words made sense — Riku needed him, just like he needed Riku — and the second to last puzzle piece fell neatly into place.

Now there was just one left.

“I love you,” Sora said fiercely, with all the emotion he could muster and wanted to get across to Riku. “I’m so glad you’re here, Riku. I’m so glad we made it…”

There was a pause, and Sora held his breath.

“I love you too, Sora.”

There it was. The final piece.

Riku was shaking now, rocking with barely held-back sobs, and Sora just held him, his thighs squeezing around Riku's hips and his arms around Riku's chest. Riku had one hand in his hair and one hand on his back, and something inside Sora’s very core shuddered as his breath came out in a heavy sigh. He felt complete, at long last, as he curled his fingers into the cotton fabric of Riku's shirt, as he let the weight of their combined feelings overwhelm him in the very best way. Riku's smell and his warmth and the sound of his hitched breathing slowly evening out.

At last, Sora pulled back, his hands going to Riku's shoulder, brushing thumbs across his collarbones, and Riku started shaking again, but this time it was not from sobs. Sora had never seen Riku like this, and he wasn't sure whether to be glad Riku finally felt safe enough to show his emotions, to talk, or upset because he never wanted Riku to feel so sad and lonely as he had…

But they had this now.

He blurted out, “Can I touch you some more…?”

He was sure Riku was going to say no. He didn’t know why he'd brought it up in the first place. 

Actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he’d brought it up. Seeing Riku so undone, so vulnerable, so trusting, made Sora feel protective, proud, bold. He slid his hands down Riku’s sides until his palms rested flat against his waist.

Riku was trembling below him, and Sora’s heart was trembling in tune. 

His mouth was dry as he waited for Riku to speak. He braced himself for the rejection. 

But it didn’t come. 

Riku nodded. 

Sora felt his eyes go wide, and he pressed his hands tighter against the folds in Riku's shirt, the fabric slowly warming between his palms and Riku's skin. 

“Oh,” Sora said. And then, “Are you sure?” 

Riku no longer looked scared, there was a quiet sort of surrender on his face. “Yeah.”

“Okay… But you can say stop at any time, okay? At anything that doesn’t feel good.”

“I know,” Riku whispered, and Sora couldn’t help but smile and reach out to cup his cheeks, and then bring their foreheads together.

“What if… I touch you… And if it feels good, you say hot. And if it doesn't feel good, you say cold?”

Riku nodded, and Sora pulled back just a little, his hands smoothing over Riku's cheeks down to his neck, featherlight fingertips across Riku’s throat. He pressed his thumb lightly against the pulse point, the barest of pressures, and felt Riku shudder beneath him. 

“Okay?” Sora whispered. 

“Yeah…” 

“Hot or cold?”

Riku flushed, and his breath hitched in his throat. He looked away, eyes towards the ceiling. Then Riku swallowed heavily and felt Sora’s fingers move against him with the bob of his throat. 

“Hot.” Riku's voice trembled slightly.

He wanted to know what Riku was thinking, but he didn't want to ask now. It was clear Riku was doing all he could to just stay present in this moment.

He kept his thumb over Riku's pulse point, feeling the strong erratic flutter of his pulse. He mentally counted and wondered if his own heart was racing just as wildly. It probably was. But it meant Riku was here, and Sora knew it wasn't a dream. He knew by now what dreams felt like, and they were never this real.

Slowly, he moved his hands down over Riku's throat, slipping his fingers under the collar of Riku's shirt, where his skin was flushed and so warm. Riku closed his eyes, and Sora was overcome by a million emotions at once.

“Hot or cold?” Sora whispered, and he didn’t recognise his own voice, low and soft and hoarse.

“Hot,” Riku whispered back, thick and intense.

Sora’s hands moved to the knot of Riku’s tie, and even though he had done and undone his own tie a million times, doing it in reverse was a lot harder. But finally, he managed to undo the knot, carefully placing the tie next to the bed. And then, because it felt like the next step, he undid his own tie. It joined Riku’s on the floor.

He wasn't really sure what he was doing — he felt nervous and brave at the same time. His hands slid back to Riku's shoulders, then down over the outside of his arms, fabric first, and then tiny hairs and goosebumps and so much warm skin to touch, fingers circling around Riku's wrists. 

“Hot or cold?”

Riku opened his eyes, and they stared at each other for a long moment. There was so much in Riku's gaze that Sora could not even begin to name the emotions.

“Hot…”

“Can I…” Sora grabbed Riku's hand with his own, fingers curling around Riku's, and Riku twisted his hand to hook their fingers together. Sora brought his other hand to the top button of Riku's shirt. He was afraid to finish his question, though, his heart pounding so loud he was sure Riku would be able to hear it.

“Sora, I—” Riku's eyes never left his as he brought his hand to cover Sora's hand on his chest. He seemed to struggle with his words, opening and closing his mouth several times before he drew in a deep breath, his face settling into an unwavering look of determination. “Yeah. Whatever you want, Sora.”

Tears sprang into Sora's eyes, and he blinked rapidly, wondering what he'd done to deserve this boundless trust.

“What about the hot and cold?”

“I think…” Riku reached for him then, both hands going to the sides of Sora's face, and Sora swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I think the touching isn't really bad anywhere, because it's you.”

“Really?”

“It's just…a lot, you know?” Riku tugged softly, and Sora followed him down until their foreheads were touching again. Riku's eyes were wet and soft, and Sora in turn brushed his thumbs over the swell of Riku's cheeks, callouses against soft skin, as their eyes locked in wordless communication.

“Yeah, I know.” 

And Sora also knew that this, every single touch, every caress, mended something inside of him that he didn't even know was broken. He only hoped it was the same for Riku. He belonged here, with Riku, no matter what. He wanted to give Riku whatever he needed to belong, too. More of this, more intimate still, more of everything.

What would it be like to touch without their shirts on? If touching and cuddling with their shirts on was this good, what would it feel like without? The white cotton was one of the final barriers between them, a line he wanted to cross now.

Sora sat back up and, with his heart in his throat, started to undo the buttons of his own shirt, one by one. Riku watched him with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving Sora's face, and it was as if the world outside of this didn’t exist anymore — they had become their own ecosystem, just Sora and Riku in their own little bubble. Sora's fingers worked slowly but steadily until finally, he could shrug off his shirt, dropping it next to their ties on the floor.

He reached out, hands resting on Riku's still-clothed chest, just pausing for a moment to breathe. Riku's hands were on the bed covers next to him, curling and uncurling as if he was trying to compose himself — or stop himself from reaching out.

So Sora reached out instead. He would be brave for both of them, just like Riku had so often been brave for him.

There were no more words, but Sora moved slowly to the first button, so as to give Riku time to tell him to stop if he changed his mind. He felt Riku's heart pounding against his ribcage below him, and it was reassuring in a way, to know Riku felt just as strongly about this — possibly even more. Riku's eyes betrayed him, as always, and Sora could physically feel the utter affection and vulnerability he saw there. It sent shivers over his skin, and it felt like he was falling, but it was okay, because he knew Riku would catch him if he did.

When the last button was undone, Sora helped Riku sit up to tug off the shirt, and then they were just looking at each other for a long time. The movement had placed Sora in Riku's lap, which meant they were now at eye-level, and Sora shifted to make himself more comfortable.

Then, slowly, he slid one arm around Riku's shoulders, his hand fastening in Riku's hair at the back of his neck, the other going arm around Riku's back and holding tight.

The feeling of skin on skin was indescribable.

If there was still any tension left in Riku, it bled out of him, into the mattress below, at Sora's touch, and the next thing Sora knew, they were clinging to each other. Riku's warm skin against his was overwhelming in the very best way, and Sora let out a long, audible breath as he pressed his face into the side of Riku's neck.

Riku was trembling again, his breath coming in shaky tearful exhales, and Sora knew he would do anything for Riku, anything to make him stop hurting, but he couldn't do that, could he? Riku would always carry with him the things he'd done, the things he didn't talk about, and Sora wished he could take them all, all the sad and painful things, and bury them in his own heart, where he'd keep them safe — forever.

But he couldn't, and maybe that hurt most of all.

Riku made a choked noise, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and Sora held him as tightly as he could. Their skin slid together, heated and a little sweaty, and it felt so incredibly good that it took away all the sadness and replaced it with nothing but Riku, Riku, Riku.

There was nothing inside of him but desire, yearning, love, and the overwhelming need to be as close to Riku as he physically could. 

And Riku let him, let him touch and touched him back, hands moving up and down Sora’s back, and Sora almost burst with the sensations, the feelings inside of him. He barely knew what he was doing, but he pressed a close-lipped kiss to Riku's skin and felt Riku's answering shiver.

He couldn't take Riku's pain, but he could do this.

Both their movements were clumsy and desperate, but Sora couldn't care less. He felt strong and brave, and he didn’t want to pull back, but he also wanted to see Riku. So, with an enormous effort, he loosened his arms and carefully pulled his face out of Riku’s neck.

Riku looked just as undone as Sora felt, red-rimmed eyes and damp, blotchy skin. Still, when Sora smiled, Riku smiled back, although it was watery and unsure. It broke Sora's heart that after everything, Riku still felt doubt.

“I’m here, Riku.” Sora twisted his body so he could pull Riku down with him until they were lying face to face, their heads sharing the pillow, only inches between their faces, Riku's hot breath across his cheek. “I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Okay,” Riku said softly, shifting his body closer, and Sora tugged so they were skin to skin to skin again. “Okay.”

“I'm scared, too, Riku,” Sora continued, because he had learned by now you could be brave and still be scared. “All the time. I'm scared every time we have different classes, or when I have to go home after we spend time together.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s because I—”

“No,” Sora said. “I don’t blame you. You did what you thought was best, how can I blame you for that? And you must have been lonely, too…”

Riku closed his eyes and shifted down on the mattress so he could rest his cheek against Sora’s chest. The bed creaked with Riku's halting movements before they settled again. Sora carded his fingers through the soft strands of Riku's hair, marvelling at how silky they felt. Riku's breath was hot and wet against his bare skin, and it made something inside of Sora's stomach feel fluttery.

He counted Riku's breaths, one to ten, and started over. He lost count of how many ten counts he reached, but it didn't matter. This position was so comfortable he could fall asleep like this — and how amazing that would be, to fall asleep in each other's arms, so they wouldn't even need to be apart again, even at night…

Someday, maybe.

Then, Riku cleared his throat, and Sora felt the rumble of it vibrate against him. Riku's voice was low and oddly raw when he spoke up again. “The Realm of Darkness was lonely.”

Sora stilled his hands in Riku's hair, even stopped breathing for the longest of moments. Riku had never talked about the Realm of Darkness or about the year Sora slept in a pod. Sora barely knew the things he'd done when Sora had been chasing him across the worlds.

“Even when I made my way back to the Realm of Light, the loneliness never went away. But I thought if I just tried hard enough, kept going, fought hard enough, I'd be okay.”

Sora felt Riku shudder as he drew in a long breath, and he couldn’t speak, but he could hook his foot around Riku’s calf to pull him even closer, their legs twining, Riku’s arm tight around Sora’s waist. It was easy, in a way nothing else was anymore.

“But even though it was lonely, it wasn’t hard, you know, not really. Cause I did it all for you.”

“Riku…” The word escaped him in a low breath.

“It’s true.”

Sora didn't know what to say to that, so he did the only thing he could think of; he stroked Riku's hair in slow little circles to let him know he was listening. He was here.

There was a long, long pause in which Sora started to wonder if Riku had fallen asleep, but his breathing was too irregular for that.

“I missed you so much, Sora, you don't—” Riku let out a shuddery sigh. “I thought I would never have this again.”

“I'm here, Riku,” Sora said, and he'd repeat it forever, until Riku believed him. “I'm here.”

“I love you,” Riku said in a broken whisper.

“I know,” Sora breathed. “I love you, too.”

“No, I mean… I love you.”

“Yeah. I know,” Sora said softly, because he had learned there were a lot of ways to love and a lot of ways of expressing it, and he had finally figured out the puzzle that was him and Riku, so he knew. “Me too.”

Riku drew back, opening his eyes, and there was so much hope there, so much love, that Sora felt himself shatter into a million little elements like a supernova, bright and powerful in the night sky, but the pieces came together again just as quickly, even more perfectly, better. Reverse and rebirth. An ending and a new beginning.

“You don't have to be alone anymore,” Sora said softly. “We're together now. You make me feel safe, Riku. Let me make you feel safe, too. Let me love you, the way you love me.”

“Sora,” Riku said, fragile and soft, and in just that one word, Sora heard their entire future. Everything that was to come still, all the healing they would do, all the adventures they would have, only now they’d do it together, forever. “Yes.”

It was only right.

It was everything he ever wanted.