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Once they made up, Langa was not keen on the idea of letting Reki out of his sight again any time soon. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever admit it, but he’d even had dreams of searching for him these past few days. More than once.
Sure, it was already getting late, but — how could they go from talking about infinity together, to turning around and going home to their separate houses, in such a short span of time? Langa didn’t think he could stand it, not after those long and shockingly lonely days when they hadn’t been talking. Time had moved so slowly without Reki around, in the worst of ways. Langa’s days hadn’t crawled by so slowly since before he came to Okinawa.
So, as they approached the intersection where they would ordinarily part ways, Langa blurted out an invitation: “Can you stay over tonight?” Reki looked startled by the idea, so Langa rushed to justify it. “It’s the weekend, right? My mom won’t mind.”
Reki snickers and scratches his nose, a nervous tic that ranks highly on Langa’s internal list of Favorite Reki Things. “Aww, Langa, did you miss me that bad?” he teases.
Langa frowns a little and feels his cheeks burn. He knows he’s only kidding, but... “Yes,” he says earnestly.
Reki flusters immediately and ducks his face into the crook of his elbow, flailing his other arm out. “You’re not supposed to-! Ugh,” he says, in that choked way he talks when he’s really, really embarrassed — the newest item on Langa’s list of Favorite Reki Things, a discovery made hardly a half hour ago. “Let me go talk to my mom.”
And that was how they ended up tiptoeing around Langa’s apartment late at night. “Are you sure this is okay? I mean, your mom doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“It’s fine,” Langa said. It’s better than fine, in fact — he knows his mother will be ecstatic to discover they’re back to being friends, probably all the more so if she discovers it via encountering Reki in her own home unexpectedly tomorrow morning. He’s dreading it; he’s certain she’ll make it awkward. But it’s worth it to make up for some lost time with Reki. “She used to give me grief about being a loner. So, she’ll be happy. Do you wanna use the shower first?”
Reki accepts this, as it’s too late now, anyway. “Yeah, sure.”
Later, once they are clean and changed into sweats, they sit on Langa’s bed and catch up. “I gotta talk to Miya tomorrow,” Reki says. “I ran into him today and he’s pretty pissed at me.”
“For what?”
“Just for disappearing. I told him I wouldn’t... so I guess I broke a promise, too. It kinda made me realize I was being too hard on you, you know?” Reki says. He doesn’t really want to talk about that, though, and he can tell Langa doesn’t either, so he pivots, lightens the mood. “It sucks, though. I mean, I wasn’t even gone that long! But I guess even a few days feels like a really long time at that age.”
Langa rolls his eyes and snickers at the smug way Reki puffs his chest out. It felt like an eternity to him, too. “Reki, I’ve seen you get impatient waiting for instant noodles.”
“Shut up, man, it’s different when you’re hungry, you know that,” said Reki, elbowing him lightly.
“Whatever you say. The ‘old and wise’ schtick doesn’t suit you very well.”
“It’s not my fault I have a youthful face!”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with your face,” said Langa, returning Reki’s elbow jab from a moment ago. To his surprise (and horror), Reki winces and grabs his rib. “What’s wrong? I barely touched you, did I?”
Reki waves his free hand dismissively. “It’s not your fault, you must’ve hit a bruise from when those guys jumped me earlier. Or maybe when that truck hit me.” All goes quiet for a long moment, and Langa stares at him, mouth slightly agape. “What?”
“You got jumped? And hit by a truck?!” Langa says, eyes wide. Some kind of protective instinct tells him to reach out and take hold of him, but that would be... too much, probably, and who knows what other injuries are lurking beneath Reki’s baggy t-shirt? So instead, he grasps helplessly into the space between them. Sure, Reki’s obviously safe and sound, but the very idea of these events sends a surge of panic through him that his heart needs a moment to process. Then, the panic morphs to incredulity and frustration. “And you’re bringing it up now?!”
“Well, I... I don’t know, it didn’t come up!”
“That’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to bring up!”
“What would you know about it?! You didn’t even mention that you were a crazy talented snowboarder!”
“That’s not the same thing at all.”
“Besides,” Reki says, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side, “you caught me off guard babbling all that stuff at me, I didn’t get a chance to talk anyway!”
Langa starts to bristle at that, but he can see the blush on the apple of Reki’s cheek, just past a particularly wild swoop of hair. Every time he sees Reki blush, he feels his heart squeeze. It’s no wonder he feels almost light-headed after a day like today. “Well, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just got ganged up on by these meatheads from the S scene I used to hang with. And the truck wasn’t going very fast so it’s no big deal. It was really weird, though, because when I was knocked out, the guy who hit me took me to a love hotel? And when I woke up he tried to give me a bunch of money so I wouldn’t sue. Apparently he works for some crazy rich dude so he wanted to make sure it was all hush-hush.”
“Wait,” Langa says. “Love hotels are real?”
“What?! That’s what you got out of that? Jeez,” Reki says, scratching the back of his neck. “Anyway, yeah, they’re real, shouldn’t you have known that? Your mom’s from here.”
“My mom doesn’t talk to me about love hotels,” Langa said. Thank God.
“...Okay, good point,” Reki said. “But yeah, I’m fine! I’m actually really happy right now.”
“I’m glad,” says Langa, and he has that unbearably soft look in his eyes again, soft like quicksand Reki feels he’s falling into when he looks into them. “I think I might wrap you in bubble wrap from now on, though.”
Reki rubs his nose sheepishly, letting out a snicker that tapers off into a yawn that leaves his eyes watery.
He’s so cute, Langa thinks he might pass out. “Do you want to sleep?” he asks, trying not to sound as breathless as he feels.
“It has been a pretty long day...” Reki says contemplatively. Often, he seems like an endless fount of energy, but it wasn’t every day he got beat up, got hit by a truck, and had a big heart to heart.
“I’ll go get the futon, you go ahead,” Langa says, gesturing for Reki to lay down.
“What? I’m not gonna kick you out of your own bed, dude,” Reki says. “I’ll take the futon.”
“You’re covered in bruises, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”
“Sleeping on a futon isn’t the same as sleeping on the floor, you gaijin,” Reki says.
“Whatever. You’re taking the bed.”
“I’m not gonna sleep in your bed unless you do too! There’s enough room.”
An expression Reki can’t read washes over Langa’s face, then he heaves a sigh. “You’re ridiculous. Fine. Scoot over.”
Reki lays down, then, satisfied. The bed feels heavenly to his tired body, and the way the mattress dips and creaks just slightly as Langa shuffles beneath the blankets beside him is a balm to his heart. “I missed this,” Reki says, although he isn’t totally sure what he means because they’ve never done this before, they’ve never slept in a bed together. So he clarifies, softened by sleep: “I missed you.”
Langa is grateful for the darkness and Reki’s closed eyes; he can appreciate the sight of him, the way his fiery hair, free from its usual headband, is splayed everywhere and casts shadows over his face. He can see the scrapes and the shadows of bruises starting to bloom around his eyes and his slightly pudgy cheeks (another of his Favorite Reki Things). He wanted to reach out and touch them. “I missed you too,” he says, for the second time that night. “If you had gotten hurt — like, really really hurt, when we still weren’t talking...” He trails off. The thought of something happening to Reki prior to them reconciling, with so much unsaid, made him feel sick to his stomach.
Reki scoots closer to him, eyes still closed, and pulls Langa into a hug. “Don’t think about stuff like that. ‘M fine,” he mumbles, “I’m right here.”
Langa wraps his arms carefully around Reki in return, listening to his pulse race in his ears. He tries to breathe slowly, to will it to slow down, but it’s hopeless when Reki rolls with his arms still clasped behind Langa’s back, taking him with him so that Langa’s laying on top of him and-
Reki let’s out a pained hiss, and Langa recoils in panic, removing all their points of contact. Had he gone too far? Had he misunderstood? Maybe Reki was just trying to roll away from him and go to sleep, but why hadn’t he let go? “S-sorry! Did I-?”
“You’re fine, you’re fine,” Reki says, clutching his rib. “I just forgot I was all beat up... and you’re kinda heavy.”
Langa sighs in relief. So he hadn’t made him uncomfortable. They’re side by side again, now, facing one another, their knees touching. “In that case...” Langa says, gently snaking his arms around Reki again. This time, he pulls Reki along with him. “Is it better this way?”
Reki’s head is on his chest, and he’s slid his hands underneath Langa’s back so his palms are pressed flat between him and the mattress. He’s not completely on top of him, but he’s splayed at a slight diagonal, two of their legs crossed over one another. Langa’s mouth is dry. He’s sure Reki can hear his heart beating. His ear is pressed to his chest, after all, and even though it’s the right side and not the left, his heartbeat seems to rattle his bones, like heavy bass, so he’s sure there’s no missing it. But Reki doesn’t seem to mind, even nuzzles into his chest a bit. “Yeah, this is good.”
Langa smiles and lets out a long breath. Some strands of Reki’s hair blow in the small breeze it creates. He knows better than to hold him too tightly — there’s his injuries to worry about, for one, especially since he doesn’t know the extent of them, and other than that, well...
He’s not sure Reki wants to be held as tightly as Langa wants to hold him. He already feels like he’s pushing his luck as he keeps his arms draped over him gently, protectively, feels like he’s getting away with something as he lets himself trace his fingers softly over the bumps of his spine.
“Hey, Reki?”
“Hmm?”
“If love hotels are real, does that mean there are really vending machines with used panties, too?”
“What?!”