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“You and I aren’t a good match anymore.”
The words echo in Langa’s mind as Reki walks further out of the streetlamp’s glow. He’s disheveled, clothes askew and skin torn up along his arms, and Langa wonders just where he’s been. What he’s been doing, what he’s thinking.
Somehow, he knows if he lets Reki go, it’ll fracture something he isn’t sure they can fix.
It’s easy to catch up to him. Langa reaches out and snags his wrist, pulling Reki to a halt. He thinks for a heartbeat that Reki may leave anyway, but he doesn’t.
Langa tries to catch his racing thoughts.
“It’s not just about Adam, is it?”
Something’s been off about Reki lately – his smiles tight at the edges and enthusiasm forced. And sure, maybe it’s because he’s afraid. Langa’s heart hurts from the cold fear in Reki’s eyes as he admitted it. But there’s something more at work here.
Reki’s hand clenches against his board.
The rain falls steadily around them, but Langa barely notices. It’s warm against his skin, but Reki’s arm is warmer against his palm. Langa tugs him around to face him.
His headband is gone, hair falling in his eyes. He doesn’t meet Langa’s gaze. He doesn’t answer Langa’s question either, so he tries a different track.
“Why aren’t we a good match?”
Reki’s lips tremble, pressing into a flat line.
“Reki.”
His answer is so quiet, the rain nearly drowns it out.
“What?”
“You’re better off without me!”
Reki yanks his arm, but Langa doesn’t let go, following him as he steps back. A fire lights inside him, an anger he didn’t know he was capable of. “Who told you that?”
“It’s true.”
“Who was it?”
“Everyone!” Reki snaps. “I’m falling behind! I can’t keep up with you.” He tries to pry Langa’s hand away, but his attempt turns feeble as he curls in on himself. “I’m just holding you back.” His voice is small, wonky and wrong. “Let go.”
“No.”
“You have to let me go.”
“I won’t.”
Langa sets down his board and steps into Reki’s space, gripping his wrist gently. He reaches out with his free hand to turn Reki’s head to face him.
When their eyes meet, Langa’s breath catches in his throat. It’s hard to tell he’s crying in the rain, but his gaze is wide and watery. How long has he carried these insecurities, unnoticed? How long have they weighed on his heart? Reki looks so small curled in on himself, as if to keep the pain at bay.
“I won’t let go,” he repeats. “Reki, I won’t leave you behind.”
Reki closes his eyes, biting his lip. He sucks in a breath that trembles in the air between them.
“I don’t know what people have told you, but it isn’t true. I’m not better off without you.” Langa strokes his thumb across Reki’s cheek. “Reki, I need you.”
He doesn’t realize how true the words are until they’re out in the open. Something clicks into place, a key turning a lock inside his chest, and Langa realizes with startling clarity that he can’t imagine life without Reki by his side; can’t imagine having gotten this far without him.
“I’m so afraid,” Reki chokes out, “of losing you.”
“So you’re pushing me away?”
Reki doesn’t answer, but he does open his eyes, blinking up against the rain. Langa lifts the wrist in his grip and presses Reki’s hand against his chest. He wonders if Reki can feel the pounding of his heart against the cage of his ribs.
“You have me,” he says. “Reki.”
Langa leans in, pulse thundering in his veins, until Reki’s a breath away. He waits – waits for Reki to push him away, but he doesn’t. His hand curls in Langa’s damp shirt, holding tight with a trembling hand.
“Langa…”
Shivering at the whisper of his voice, Langa watches Reki’s gaze dip ever so slightly. He licks his lips, tasting the rain, and leans in.
Reki gasps when their mouths touch, but he doesn’t move away, instead using his hand fisted in Langa’s shirt to tug him closer. It’s different than Langa imagined – wetter, for one, with the rain slicking their hair to their faces, and softer. Reki tilts his head into Langa’s hand and a small noise escapes him as the angle clicks.
Praying to whoever is listening that his kissing skills are okay, Langa fumbles to match Reki’s pace. He’s never… not before now. Reki is the only person he’s ever been interested in like this.
He slides his arm around Reki’s back, mindful of the board still clutched in his hand, and bends Reki up against him as they kiss and kiss. The line of his body is hot against him, malleable to the touch. Reki’s lips are chapped, but Langa doesn’t care, finding home against them.
Reki pulls away, and Langa lets him go reluctantly as they stare into each other’s eyes, panting heavily. Langa feels like his body may melt with the rain. No jump or trick could compare to the high he feels off Reki’s lips; no race could come close.
“Langa,” Reki breathes. His cheeks are flushed a pleasant shade of red. “It’s raining.”
Langa blinks at him, confused, as Reki lets go and bends down to pick up Langa’s board. He presses it into Langa’s hand and grabs his other one. He leads them down the street to his front door, stepping inside the entryway and pulling Langa along with him.
They don’t say anything as Reki’s mother fusses over them, getting them towels as they toe off their soggy shoes. They dry off best they can, and Langa trails after Reki as he heads to his room. Reki doesn’t look at him, shoving a clean shirt and pair of sweats into his arms.
They change without looking at each other, Langa’s face heating as the room fills with the sound of rustling clothes. Reki’s sweats are just a little too short for him, riding up on his leg, but they’re comfortable. The shirt smells like him.
He keeps turned away until Reki tugs at his arm and drags him over to the bed. Sitting down cross-legged, he pulls Langa to sit across from him.
The silence stretches taut between them, a balloon swollen to bursting. Langa’s afraid to pop it; afraid of what may be inside.
“Did you mean it?” Reki asks. He picks at a thread hanging off the hem of his pants. His shirt is large on him, collarbones peeking out through the collar.
“Yes.”
Reki sucks in a shaky breath and Langa reaches out, hesitating until Reki nods his head. He guides them to lie down, facing each other with their hands clasped between them. Langa loops his free hand around Reki’s waist to pull him closer, and Reki leans into it.
Brushing the bangs out of Reki’s face, Langa leans in carefully to press his lips to Reki’s forehead. Outside, the rain continues to fall, the damp smell of petrichor seeping in through the cracked window.
Things aren’t going to be fixed with just a kiss.
Langa knows this; knows they have so much more to talk about and iron out. He still wants to race Adam. He’s still breaking his promise. And he can’t kiss away Reki’s insecurities, despite how much he wants to.
He pulls Reki closer, their bodies folding against each other like smooth edges of two puzzle pieces, and Reki sighs.
For now, this is enough.