Work Text:
BREATH
—
“Good night,” Ven whispered before slipping to his room. Riku wasn’t sure how he caught the words, as soft as the rustling of clothes in the dark hallway. Riku may have nodded back the same, but one beat later he found himself leaning back against his closed door, staring at his own bed, the stars still lurking behind the window pane.
He couldn’t breathe. Sometimes, he wondered if the grasp he had on his darkness was more tenuous than he thought. Opening and closing his hand, he felt empty instability. He hated the way this place in-between Realms muted his sense of reality. It was safer, but it left him alone with an ever-present cool sensation in his chest, one that he couldn’t chalk up to catching a cold outside, having stayed too long half-sleeping under the night sky.
He clenched his fist before the tremor took over, trying to calm down. But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Ven’s searching gaze, his concern and his body leaning towards Riku—before Riku made a move to get away.
His heart screamed at him to stay away, that he couldn’t handle the break. And yet he had to know. Now that Ven’s confession had brought those feelings into the open, Riku wasn’t sure he’d be able to bottle them back up.
The prickling sensation was back under his skin, so cool it burned. Before he knew it, he was back out in the hallway, then pushing Ven’s door—which was closed for once—bracing himself as a waft of light spilled through the opening and he slipped into it. Closing behind him.
Ven stared at him, propped up on his elbows, and nodded. Riku kicked off his shoes and climbed on the bed beside him, Ven moving back just an inch so Riku could lie down next to him.
Then, Riku looked. This was Ven. This wasn’t Sora. But he held answers, clues, something Riku desperately needed. Ven reached out and slowly, moved his hand to brush Riku’s cheek—he’d never let Sora get this close; he’d wanted to, he thinks—he thinks Sora might have wanted to; and even now, Riku could cry for wanting to run away. But Ven moved closer and Riku held still; he needed to know. He tentatively let his fingers cup Ven’s elbow, then he closed his eyes, because Ven was so close. Riku fought back the scent, trying to find the threads to Sora as Ven’s breath hit his lips and then his lips…
Ven barely moved back. He just shifted to find a different angle, head resting back on the pillow, his hand guiding Riku’s face into another, longer kiss. Riku followed, exhaling shakily through his nose, clutching Ven’s sleeve—melting into the physical sensation of having someone soft and warm and close and kissing him, like he longed to feel Sora in his arms. The smell was all wrong, all not him, but the other boy was holding him so close to his softly pulsating heart, giving him something, a shared light.
Riku broke the kiss, he thinks; or maybe Ven did, but Ven moved his legs to touch Riku’s and held his questioning gaze. He still looked unsure. And sad. And sorry.
“Tell me,” Riku said under his breath, although he was scared to hear Ven’s voice.
Ven hesitated, and then he whispered, “I don’t think he knew.”
A beat.
“It’s…”
Ven bit his lower lip softly, then propped himself up again on his elbow and Riku closed his eyes as Sora kissed him, under the paopu tree at night, clinging to one more stolen minute before they really had to get back—with the stars turning the island blue, black and white—and then he was gone.
“I’m sorry,” Ven said into his hair as he held Riku tight in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Riku clung to his shirt and wept.