Archive of Our Own

Langa sits in front of his computer, hands folded against his mouth as he glares at the screen. The blocky text stares back at him, a cheery font type that mocks his intense concentration on the words displayed before him.

He sighs, massaging the pinch between his brows. Then, he takes his mouse and hovers over the start quiz button.

He builds up his courage and in an instant, it’s over: the Am I Gay? quiz whirs to life and takes Langa’s fate with it.

See, Langa once thought sexuality was a clear-cut thing, that people who were gay or otherwise figured it out when they were young, the answer as easy as knowing yourself. A quick, precursory search told him how completely wrong he was, the wikis for sexuality covering extensive types of attraction—there’s more than one!—and informing him how many different combinations were out there. There were reports of people not realizing they were gay until later in life—the explanation about comphet sent Langa into a short spiral of questions echoing throughout his brain—or that it even changed throughout their lives. His own lack of certainty made him squirm in his seat.

Langa came to a simple conclusion: sexuality takes a lot of thinking and self-reflection. For him, someone who spoke through actions and by listening to his heartbeat, thinking hard has never been his talent. He just wants an answer to the feelings he’s been… feeling since he moved to Okinawa.

Especially since they won’t stop growing.

Langa clenches the computer mouse as he answers the next part of the quiz. Before, in Canada, Langa had never really been interested in others; when his classmates spoke about crushes or pretty girls, his mind glazed over and he drifted into his favorite daydream, about what he would try out on his snowboard the next time he hit the slopes. Even when snowboarding became a pang in his heart after his dad passed, his mind never strayed long on people his age. Langa thought maybe he would find out later in life what it was like to care for someone.

Well, later came and arrived, like a sledgehammer to his gut, filling his belly with butterflies that made him light and floaty and dizzy with each passing day. It started when a boy from his class had jumped over him with a skateboard; he soared with a sense of ease and the sun shone through his red hair like a flame—for the first time in a long time, Langa’s heartbeat thudded in his chest.

Reki slammed into his world and showed Langa a new life; one that didn’t hurt and instead, filled him with a sense of wonder, where he knew he would never be able to fake detachment again.

So after scrolling through pages upon pages of resources, Langa had reached the limit of his conflicting feelings. He wanted an answer for his, he suspects, less-than-platonic feelings for Reki, and what he should do about them. And now, as he clicks the submit quiz button, hopefully, he will find his answer.

The page loads and shows him a message in large, italicized font:

You are probably gay.

A weight is lifted off Langa’s chest, a sense of acceptance filling its place. It still doesn’t feel quite right so he scrolls to see what else the quiz says.

Underneath the main answer, there is a subset list of terms.

Other sexualities you may want to explore:

• Demisexual
• Demiromantic
• Grey-sexual
• Grey-romantic
• Asexual
• Aromantic
• Queer

Langa blinks. He picks Asexual and scrolls through the reading. He relates to some of the descriptions that hit a little too close to his personal descriptions of his feelings, but he doesn’t feel it applies to all of them. Grey-sexual is more fluid in its meaning but defining the difference between sexual and romantic attraction is still a little fuzzy for him. Langa explores the options and they fill his brain with information, agonizing and overfilling his brain capacity again.

He sighs. Apparently, he can’t expect a quiz on the internet to tell him what his thudding heartbeat means, and why he had never felt it before with other people. So Langa shuts down his computer and reaches over to turn off his desk light.

He’s spent enough time ruminating on this tonight. He’ll think about it tomorrow.

+++

Langa doesn’t sleep well that night. With attending ‘S’ several days a week, his already messy sleep schedule worsens. He has to smack his cheeks every few minutes on his way to meet Reki, the breeze and excitement of skating not enough to keep him awake. When Reki arrives at their rendezvous point with a smile and their handshake, Langa drops his skateboard to the ground. Only, his other foot misses the board and with the weight shift, he slips and falls.

A hand reaches out and catches Langa, cradling him in a dip against Reki’s chest. Langa is very thankful he didn’t have to greet the asphalt, but his heartbeat pounds painfully as Reki holds him and looks at him with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” Reki asks. His face is so close that Langa can see the length of his dark eyelashes.

“Yeah.” A little regretfully, a little relieved, Langa pulls away from Reki. Luckily his board didn’t roll too far, so he picks it up and turns back to Reki. “Ready to go?”

“Sure,” Reki says, but his mouth is pulled forward into a pout. “Are you sure you’re okay? You have bags around your eyes.”

Langa tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “Late night,” is all he says.

Reki eyes him carefully, but says nothing. Safe from further examination, Langa jumps onto his board and skates away, hoping to leave his feelings behind.

There’s a sense of calm that comes over Langa whenever he skates with Reki. They race and compete but often, Langa’s favorite moments are when they’re linked in their paths, skating in harmony as they weave in and out around each other. They fit in each other’s gaps and Langa can always turn to see Reki’s wide smile or listen to his laughter against the sounds of the city streets. Usually, Reki chatters endlessly about a new move or a board design he wants to test out and Langa offers his input when he can.

It’s simple. He’s not rushing, caught up in the kaleidoscope of colors Adam tried to force him to see. His heartbeat isn't oppressive in his chest but instead, it flutters musically with each push of his foot.

When skating, Langa enjoys pushing himself to his limits. But he also enjoys the easy, quiet affection for the sport when he is on a casual skate with Reki.

Before he knows it, they’re at the school. Disappointment flickers in his chest, but he can’t skate with Reki forever. At least, he’s feeling less tired after his near-fall.

Until, that is, when he wakes up at lunchtime to Reki poking his cheek. Langa wipes the drool from his mouth and smacks his lips as he sits up. His hands are decorated with an imprint of his hair, from where his head lay against them.

“You slept through all our morning classes,” Reki says, and Langa frowns as his brain fuzzily takes in the words. “I took notes for you.”

Langa’s breath catches and he withholds the desire to smile. Reki could be so thoughtful, letting Langa rest and making sure he didn’t fall far behind in classes.

It was sweet. It was Reki.

They make their way to the roof where they normally eat lunch. When they get there, Reki pulls out his bento and sits against their favorite concrete wall. He grabs his chopsticks and hums happily as he unties the wrapping on his box.

The whole sequence of actions makes Langa’s chest clench. His affections for Reki, which the quiz and research had hinted at, were getting out of his control.

It was confusing, still. Langa thought after a good night's sleep he would have a better answer. He opens his bread package and takes a bite.

But nothing could be as simple as his rides to school, huh.

“Dude, what is bothering you?” Reki asks. Langa turns to him and watches as Reki’s eyebrows pull forward in concern.

“Nothing,” Langa says, because it’s completely true.

“Then why’re you mauling your bread?”

Langa looks to his hands where, yep, his bread is falling apart after he aggressively bit into it. He tries to salvage the disintegrating filling and extra fluffy sections but after he finishes choking it down, pieces of bread litter the ground. He sighs, brushing off his hands with a few quick slaps.

Reki hands him a water bottle. “You good?”

“Thanks.” Langa sips the water to soothe the dryness of his mouth and throat. “And yeah, I am.”

Reki smirks, and places his chopsticks in his bento. “Will you answer me now?”

Langa swallows. He smooths down the lines of his pants. He doesn’t want to answer Reki but he has been acting particularly weird, so Langa wants to give him an explanation. He just doesn’t excel at voicing his thoughts. “I took a quiz last night.”

“Uh,” Reki says. He tilts his head. “We didn’t have a quiz for school, did we?”

“Not for school.” Langa’s words are mumbled, but at least he says them. “It was one of those… sexuality quizzes.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh.”

“Yeah.”

Reki smiles and the small lilt to his lips comforts Langa. “Did it help?”

“Not at all.” And that makes Reki laugh. Langa blushes and scratches his palm. “It made everything more confusing.”

Reki snickers. “Well, I don’t think taking a test made by a thirteen-year-old is going to help you.” His mouth turns into a smirk. “Imagine asking Miya for advice about whether you liked boys or not.”

Langa’s lips pull upward a fraction as Reki laughs at his own joke. Reki always knew what to say.

Langa mulls over the words as a cloud passes over the sun. He turns to Reki. “Do you... Like boys?”

“Yes,” Reki says, adjusting his headband with a tug. Though Reki is nonchalant, a sharp tension releases from Langa’s body with the answer. “Girls, too.” Reki offers a smile. “I’m bi.”

“Oh,” Langa says, dumbly. He wonders why he never considered that.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

Reki chuckles. “Is that all you have to say?”

Langa shifts his weight. The sunlight pushes down on his skin, telling him to say the words in his heart. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t, for a long time,” Reki says. “I liked girls and thought that was it. And then I started to notice—I had a crush on a boy and that made things pretty clear.”

Langa blinks. “Do you still have a crush?”

“Hey, now, is that fair?” Reki’s voice is light with humor. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

Langa blushes and he knows there’s probably a bright red on his pale cheeks. “No reason.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable but.” Reki’s eyes are bright and Langa finds himself drawn into their light. “What brought on all the questioning?”

And this strikes right to the root of Langa’s emotions. Why did he stalk sexuality wikis in the late night with all the words and terms swirling around in his head? It was easier than finding an actual word for his attraction but: “I think I like someone.”

Reki’s eyes widen. “Really?” He pauses and the tension builds in Langa’s stomach. “Who?”

Langa pouts, his lower lip jutting out. “You didn’t say who yours was, so why should I tell you?”

Reki laughs. “You’re right.”

They sit in silence and Langa contemplates how he will break it. Whether they should move on or continue in these dangerous waters of something undefinable that neither of them will acknowledge. While his mind pings back and forth, Reki resettles and leans his legs closer to Langa.

Langa’s breath stutters. Their thighs are touching.

“I don’t think you need a term or word to describe how you feel, if that’s not what you want,” Reki says. He doesn’t look at Langa, but his voice carries weight. “It can be comforting but then you can get lost in wondering what it all means. Whether it fits everything you’ve ever felt.”

Rek turns and focuses his gaze on him. “So what do you know, Langa?”

Langa’s heart thuds. And after all the times his heartbeat has tried to guide him, he knows what he wants. On some level, he’s already joined the pieces together, the last piece finally slotting into its final place.

Instead of saying anything, though, he grabs Reki’s hand, hoping that as he laces their fingers together that Reki won’t pull away.

If he’s reading the signs correctly, then...

Reki’s whole being brightens, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his mouth wide, lips parted to show his big smile. He leans closer and closer to Langa; Langa’s heartbeat thuds even louder in his ears.

He places a delicate kiss on Langa’s cheek. It makes Langa’s cheeks blossom with a bright red once more.

“Sometimes just going with the flow is easier,” Reki says, as he pulls away, voice quiet with wonderment. “Trust in the things you know, right?”

Langa swallows. “Right.”

They stare at each other, and Langa’s eyes flit to Reki’s lips. He’s not sure who leans first but Langa understands, with how hard his heartbeat pounds in his chest, that meeting Reki’s lips is the only thing he wants to answer right now.