Work Text:
This is a bad idea. Like, definitely in the top 10 bad ideas Langa has heard from Reki. And like all bad-ideas-presented-as-good-ideas, this one started as a challenge.
_______________________________________________
“Langaaaa!” He hears Reki’s voice clearly, despite it being distorted by the wind rushing by them, and winces at his best friend’s inconsiderate volume at 3 AM on a Thursday. It’s bad enough for them to be waking up other normal, sleeping people just by the whir of their skateboard wheels on the deserted streets without yelling.
Langa responds with a two-fingered salute at Reki anyway, because if he doesn’t get a response from him he’s going to be even louder.
“Look there! It’s probably epic for trying some wall tricks!” Reki is pointing at an abandoned and dark building standing alone just up ahead, likely a former car dealership. The barren lot surrounding it is dimly lit by only a few lampposts, and the whole property is protected by a forbidding chain-link fence. One section of it appears to have barbed wire at the top.
Nearby are several strip-malls and a few twenty-four hour konbinis. Only those are still lit up brightly, though it feels like there’s no one around at all.
But Reki is right. The building does look perfect for wall tricks. There’s a gentle slant to the concrete, with no parking blocks to maneuver around. The wall itself seems solid and slightly weather worn, with a bit of friction for wheels.
They coast to a stop at the front gate.
“So? Whadd’ya say bro? Feeling up to it?” Langa turns to catch the gleam of Reki’s teeth under the sparse streetlights as his mouth pulls into his signature grin. Langa resists the urge to smile just on instinct and throws back a deadpan stare instead, pointing at the wire fence, and then at the barbed wire on top.
Signs that say “PRIVATE PROPERTY. No Trespassing” are posted every fifteen meters along the fence.
“Don’t worry dude! A little break-and-enter never hurt anyone! There’s probably less fencing at the back.” Reki is, as always, unaffected by a little bit of hardship and Langa’s lack of encouragement.
“‘A little break-and-enter never hurt anyone!’” Langa gently mocks Reki, affecting an overly exuberant voice for the jab, “You mean ‘trespass,’ right?”
Despite Langa’s attempt at humour at his expense, Reki just laughs brightly and pushes away from the curb. Langa follows Reki around the block to the back of the lot. They find themselves staring up at the fence towering above them, and Langa estimates the chainlink is ten feet high at least.
He glances next to him, where Reki is messing with his hair from where it’s slipped out from his headband, preoccupied with his own sizing up of the fence. He flicks his tongue out, eyes darting around for any possible holes they could slip through, and bites his bottom lip when he doesn't find one.
Langa looks away.
“So? Can we go home now?” He asks him. Reki just gives him a look.
“Giving up so fast? This fence looks pretty sturdy,” Reki reaches out one hand and shoves at the chainlink hard, seemingly to prove his point. The metal makes a rattling noise and sways a little.
“See! So we can just climb over it. No barbed wire here! It’s not that high anyways, right, Snow? Nothing to be scared of!” Reki finishes his slightly-insane analysis, his voice and the skate circuit nickname both a challenge. His eyes are wide and golden-bright in the dim light as he tilts his head back and meets Langa’s gaze.
Langa just sighs at his best friend.
“What if we fall?” he asks, pretending to have common sense.
Reki counters with infallible cheer. “Can’t be worse than that broken arm at S!”
“What about getting caught?” Even as he says this, Langa is wondering if there’s any logic that can stop Reki Kyan when he’s got his mind set on trying out a new skate spot.
Reki grins brightly, “We’re not even adults; we’d just get a warning!” He knows Langa is just giving him token resistance.
“What about getting some actual sleep?” Langa knows that he's just grasping at straws now, although he would actually appreciate sleep. Reki knows this too. He just wordlessly reaches into one of his many massive pockets on his usual outfit of cargo pants, hoodie, and jacket, and offers him a warm can of Coke.
“Your caffeine, Langa-sama.” Reki does a solemn ninety-degree bow, both hands outstretched with the red can. The effect is ruined when he nearly pitches off of his board. Langa fails to stifle his laughter, taking the red can from him and offering his own arm for Reki to grab onto as he flounders.
“Fine, I guess I’m convinced. Even though this is one of the worst ideas you’ve made me go through with, not counting S,” he says, rolling his eyes when Reki cheers and jumps off his board, arms high in a victory pose, and catches it with an experienced upkick. He presses it into Langa’s hands and immediately starts to climb the fence.
Reki is just straddling the top of the fence when they hear police sirens from down the road headed in their direction.
They both freeze, eyes wide as they stare at each other. Langa notices Reki’s hand flex from where he’s hanging perilously ten feet in the air, the fence slightly bending from his weight and a bit of strong wind.
Langa shakes his head wildly at him, giving him their hand gesture for “Hold on; don’t move,” while Reki bites his lip hard, visibly panicking even as he slowly bends forward so his body is parallel to the top of the fence. They both pull on their hoods at the same time, although Reki’s bright yellow hoodie and red hair means that this is still a futile endeavor.
Langa crouches into the bushes near the fence, hugging both their boards to his chest quietly. Langa subconsciously holds his breath as the sirens grow louder on the street, feeling the chill soaking through his pants from the concrete he kneels on. The rough grip tape on Reki’s board tickles his cheek.
He dimly wonders if Reki is colder than he himself feels, suspended in the air. He touches the fence with one hand as though he could stabilize it from creaking with just raw will power, and looks up to see Reki’s knuckles white from where he’s holding the metal too tightly, eyes shut just as tight. Langa’s own heartbeat is loud in his ears as his hood muffles even the quiet midnight sounds around them.
When the cop car’s sirens mercifully passes by, Langa counts another two beats of his pulse before peeking out past the bush, and lets his withheld exhale out in a loud whoosh. When he takes a deep breath in, he’s dizzy for a second but turns around and flashes Reki an All Clear sign with his fingers.
There’s a quick rattling of the metal fence and then a muted thud; Reki roughly lands on the other side. There’s no backing out now. Reki pulls his hood off and catches Langa’s eye, offering him a wide grin and double thumbs-up. Langa nods at him, blinks, and throws his own blue board over the fence, watches as he catches and sets it down, and then throws Reki’s over as well. Then there is his own mad scramble over the fence, a brief tug-of-war where a loose loop of metal at the top snagged his pants, and finally he lands on the ground next to Reki, who has his phone out still from sneaking a few shots of Langa while he had struggled.
After watching Langa take yet another cautionary glance around, Reki can’t contain his excitement anymore.
“Come on dude! We didn’t get caught yet, and I’m actually dying to try this new trick! Can’t we just,” Reki interrupts his own sentence by grabbing Langa’s shoulder and shaking him, voice drawing out into a whine, “gooo already?”
“Okay you dumbass! One of us has to be cautious here and it’s definitely not gonna be you, y’know.” Langa deliberately avoids mentioning the fact that Reki had definitely been scared when he heard the police sirens, and instead jumps on his board towards the building across the deserted lot. He glances back to see if Reki is watching, and then counts down twenty, and then ten, and then five-feet-left-and-NOW!
The jump and the resulting loud clatter of wheels on wood is exhilarating as always, and after the landing Langa doesn’t even try to hide his own grin as he skates back towards Reki.
“Wow, Langa!” Reki is waving his arms around at him, as though he’s not the only other person in the lot, and somehow has to compete for Langa’s attention. “That was so cool! You must’ve got at least, like, four feet of air on barely any slope! Okay it’s my turn now. You better watch me!”
Langa holds his hand out for a fist bump as Reki slides past him, and the solid impact to his bones calms down any lingering nerves he has from the earlier close-call. Langa pulls his own phone out of a pocket just in time to film Reki hitting the wall at a strange angle, and winces when Reki spins out of the landing and hits the ground hard.
“Ouch dude! Alright there?” Langa calls out to him, but he knows it’s unneeded when Reki springs up again, more determined than ever even as he rubs his back.
“I’m gonna go again! I know I’m nailing it this time dude! That was just a fluke, y'know?” Reki slaps Langa’s outstretched palm on his circle back, and Langa’s grin is wide when he turns the phone camera to himself to make a face before getting ready to record Reki again.
Forty minutes later, Reki has successfully landed the trick three times, and Langa has gotten his own number of successful runs in for the night. They’re both leaned against one of the concrete bases of the scattered lamp posts in the lot, their boards propped up against their legs. Reki takes another sip from the can of Coke while Langa finishes slapping a bright green bandage on his elbow for him. It matches the other green bandage on his cheek, and Langa shoves the plastic wrapper in his own pocket while Reki passes the can to him to finish off. He takes a last swallow and crushes the can under one shoe while watching Reki, who leans against his side to reach over and examine a new scrape on his hand. In the dim light, he has to bring it up to his face to see it clearly.
“I think you should let me put a bandaid on it. Maybe blue to match your aesthetic?” Reki is looking down at the injury, but turns to look at him when Langa snorts a laugh.
“Nah! It’s not even bleeding; I’ll just wash it out when we get home and find some cream and be fine. Plus, I don't even think we have any more blue ones left.” Langa is overly aware of how close Reki’s nose is to his own at this angle, and has to pull his phone out on the premise of rewatching some of their videos. Langa ignores how flushed his face looks in the dim reflection on the screen, and leans his head back against the concrete block to avoid stiffly gelled hair when Reki sits up again.
There’s some loud rustling and a bit of swearing when it jostles his injuries before Reki finally pulls out a battered but new box of bandages from his back pocket. Langa squints at it before howling with laughter. Emblazoned on the box is Doraemon (or so the kanji proclaims), and Reki opens it to show him how all the bandages feature the blue robot-cat in various poses. Langa pinches one out to study it, already laughing, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“You know this guy right? From the show when you were little-?” Here Langa shakes his head hard, gasping for breath because the childish bandages are just inexplicably funny to him. They’re so adorable. Like Reki, his brain supplies. Woah what?
“What do you mean, no?! EVERYONE’S watched it!” Reki jumps up to gesture excitedly at him. “Oh my god Langa did you even have a childhood? What did you even watch in Canada? How could you-”
His passionate rambling is cut off when Langa grabs his hand from where he’s still sitting and tugs hard, eyes wide as he looks past his hip at the street. Reki whirls around and hears the unmistakable sound of a car door slamming shut, and then they both see the yellow light of a flashlight turn on directly at them through the fence.
“Police! Stay where you are!”
Adrenaline immediately shoots through Langa, his body reacting faster than his brain. “Come on!” Langa is already on his feet with his board in one hand, kicking Reki’s into his other. Reki scoops up the Doraemon bandages and shoves them in his pocket as they run, taking his board back from under Langa’s arm. They throw their boards forward and jump on, speeding the fifty feet back to the side street they came in from.
Langa hazards a glance back to see the flashlight bobbing as their pursuer runs around the side of the lot, likely to intercept them. He hears shouts of “Police! Stop running!” and is shocked still for a second when they near the fence, but keeps moving when Reki grabs his hoodie sleeve and tugs him along.
“He’s not gonna fuckin’ shoot or shit!” Reki yells in his ear. Right. This is Japan. When Langa looks up Reki is already jumping onto the fence and climbing, his skateboard pinned awkwardly under his previously-broken arm. Langa reaches up and grabs it from him, and Reki turns to look at him, a question screaming in his eyes before it can reach his lips.
“Just go! It’s faster, and I’ll just throw em over and climb! I trust you!” Langa doesn’t think he’s sounded this desperate since his dad died, and his own thunderous pulse in his ears is barely louder than the approaching yelling. He watches as Reki scrambles up the fence and thinks that even if he himself doesn’t make it, Reki is confident enough as a skater to evade any cops and still carry Langa’s board back home. And worst case scenario, Langa would stay behind and distract the cop long enough for Reki to make a clean escape.
“Throw it dude!” Reki’s voice shakes Langa back into where he’s standing in front of the fence, Reki’s face just a mere two feet from his on the other side. The cop is turning the corner of the street now, skirting the edge of the lot. Langa doesn’t even bother throwing straight and just launches both boards straight up into the air, hoping they make it over while he takes a running leap at the fence. His first foothold is a solid four feet off the ground, and he madly scrambles for purchase, blindly clawing his way up. The adrenaline numbs the pain from any potential scratches, kicking his heart into overdrive when he watches the cop get closer to them.
“Just go!” Langa screams again at Reki, who has miraculously managed to catch both boards, even as his face gets smaller the higher he climbs up the fence. Langa already knows how stubborn he is, and his only thought is faster, faster. “No! We go together or not at all!” If Langa was any calmer he would have rolled his eyes exasperably, but instead he just tries to launch himself harder up the fence, almost pitching over when his hand meets sheer air instead of metal. He’s at the top!
Looking down while swinging his leg over, Langa has to fight through the nauseousness of being so high up coupled with the exertion. His heart has ratcheted up so fast that it feels like a continuous sound instead of separate beats. Then he clenches his jaw so hard he thinks he might need a dentist after; the cop is three seconds away from being right under him, and Langa just sends a prayer up at his dad before kicking away from the fence, screaming as he free falls ten feet.
The drop scares Langa more than he thought it would. On a skateboard with solid wood under him, this drop would be nothing but exhilarating. But when he forces his eyes to stay open against the stinging wind, Langa gets a sudden thought that he is going to die, even as he bends his knees and waits for the impact. The night feels deadly quiet, and for the sickening heartbeat right before his feet hit the solid ground, Langa sees Reki’s pained expression from where he’s looking up and running for him, nothing like his starry eyes when he watched his jumps at S. Then the moment is over, and Langa hits the ground hard on bent legs and rolls to dispel the shock of the impact.
The world crashes back into sharp focus. The cop is a mere few feet away, but Reki is already next to him, hauling him to his feet with one hand, pressing his board into his other. “Come on come on come on!” he chants, holding Langa’s arm when his still-shaky legs stumble on their first few steps. Then Langa whips his board forwards, and Reki lets go of him to throw his own, and they're skating parallel down the street again. There’s the slight brush of fingers against the back of his hoodie and his stomach lurches, but when he turns his head around the cop is already panting, hands on knees, face illuminated by streetlights to stare as they ride off.
Reki whoops when he turns to see the cop just staring, but then immediately swears when he sees the man pull his radio off his shoulder. “Shit, Langa, we have to hide, they’ve got patrols out.”
Langa is straining to hear Reki hiss at him, but nods anyway, slowing down so that Reki can lead in front of him. In the near distance, the wail of a police siren is already headed their way.
He follows Reki without comment when he guides them down a street corner two blocks later, and then swings a left turn and then a right and then a left again. They head straight into a narrow shadowy crack between two buildings. It’s probably not even wide enough to be called an alley, the result of poor street planning, and Langa wonders if his shoulders might brush the walls. Reki jumps off, nose kicking his board into his hand, turns to watch Langa do the same, and then reaches back to grab his wrist gently to lead him deeper behind him. The loud sirens seem to be fading away.
At this point Langa would consider his eyes pretty well adjusted to the dark already, but the streetlight behind them just doesn’t illuminate far into the little space. It‘s pretty near pitch dark, and so he just trusts that Reki knows where he’s going. As they try to walk quietly, the truck on Langa’s skateboard hits a metal pipe sticking out of the side of the wall on their right. The metal-on-metal sound seems to echo in the narrow space. They both freeze, Reki’s hand tightening on his wrist. Above them, an orange light turns on in someone’s apartment.
“Sorry,” Reki whispers, “I should have warned you about pipes.”
“Nah it’s my fault,” Langa murmurs back. He should know by now that all the buildings have pipes on the walls in Osaka. Then Reki tugs him forwards again, and after another excruciating few seconds, the narrow space opens a little wider, and from just over Reki’s head, Langa sees the dim glow of a street light. He looks forward to leaving this cramped space. When the two are about half a meter away from stepping out into the light, Langa suddenly freezes, Reki bouncing back when his arm stops moving.
“Wha-” Reki starts, suddenly cut off when Langa turns, slamming his chest into Reki’s, bumping him hard into the wall. Then he wrenches his wrist out of Reki’s loose grip, pulling his own hood up so that his taller body hides Reki’s bright hair from the light of the street. “Oww!” Reki whines quietly. He’s muffled by Langa reflexively shoving his face down into his own neck with one hand, swiftly pulling his hood up for him. Barely a split-second later, there’s the wail of a cop car’s sirens at what sounds like the top of the block, making its way down the street slowly.
Neither of them breathe, and Langa looks down to see Reki’s eyes widen from where his face is half hidden by his yellow hood, peeking up at him. Then he feels warm fingers curl into the fabric at his hip, and watches the way Reki’s lashes flutter slightly when he takes a slow exhale to calm himself down. Langa suppresses the urge to shiver when it tickles his neck and face, distracting himself by analyzing Reki’s features. Their heartbeats are almost as loud in their ears as the siren is now, and their fingers tighten almost imperceptibly against each other. The seconds drag out when time seems to slow down, their sudden forced stillness colliding with the adrenaline still rushing through their veins.
Langa winces when he finally feels the scratches on his skin from the metal fence. Just a few more to add to the collection. His next exhale makes Reki’s cheek twitch just a little, and Reki tilts his face more to hide it against his jaw and peeks out at the street.
Langa glances down past his red hair to see where Reki is looking, his own hood blocking his view of the street, and instead looks at the curve of Reki’s long lashes when he blinks against his cheek. The green bandage is doing a good job at holding on to the curve of his nose. His next slight inhale, from where Reki’s hair is pressed against his own face, carries the familiar slight scent of the hair gel and shampoo Reki uses.
Langa feels Reki’s body heat at every point of contact they share, thigh-hip-chest-arm-face, even through the fabric of both of their clothes. He has to suppress a shiver when the cool wind brushes his lower back, his hoodie rucked up a little from Reki’s nervous fingers. He can’t bring himself to mind them.
They both flinch into each other slightly when the police car and its ear splitting siren slowly passes by right next to them. Even through the fabric of his hood and his tightly closed eyelids, the bright red-blue flash of the lights on the car are blinding as it washes over them. Langa holds his breath for another few seconds, and when he exhales and opens his eyes as the siren miraculously fades away again, he finds Reki with his head leaned back against the wall, staring wide-eyed up at him.
“Sorry!” Langa yelps, stumbling back a step, and then his back hits the opposite wall in the narrow space. Suddenly he feels his cheeks and ears heat up, all the way down his neck, what the hell, and holds his skateboard tighter in his hand, contemplating pulling his hood back down. He pulls his board close to his face and pretends to examine it for damage. “I wasn’t sure what to do, and- it was so close!- so I thought- or well, I didn’t think-” Langa forces his mouth to shut on his words, effectively stopping himself from saying something more embarrassing.
Reki smiles blindingly bright at him. “Dude you were so cool! Like, those were insanely fast reflexes! I didn't even notice the siren yet when you slammed me against the wall!” Langa thinks he just made him blush harder. He’s not too sure if that’s even possible.
“I’m lucky you grabbed me or we both would have been busted so bad! I’m never doing anything illegal in this bright hoodie again.” Reki grabs his own collar and pulls it away from his face to look at it distrustingly, brow furrowing, giving Langa a second to force his blush to go away.
“Okay, man, whatever. You’re totally not gonna trespass again. Are we going home now or what?” Langa asks Reki because he actually has no idea where they are. Play it cool dude, play it cool. Reki smiles at him, reaching his hand out for their fist bump.
“For sure! You can just sleep over tonight, it’s-” Reki pulls his phone out of his pocket, tapping the screen until it lit up on both their faces, “Oh my god it’s fuckin’ late dude. It’s 4AM already!”
Langa splutters, gasping through laughter, “You stupid dumbass! I told you it was three when you said we should ‘break-in!’”
“Did not!”
“I definitely did!” Langa, in fact, had not, but this was too fun to pass up.
“Okay, whatever. Let’s head back now. Which way?” Reki asks, pouting up at him. Langa’s heart does something funny in his chest, but he holds it together long enough to tease him. “What do you mean, which way? Dude, I followed you!”
Reki snorts even as he turns on his cellular data and then opens maps. “Yo I was in an absolute blind panic okay? Forgive me for not looking at every street sign and marking them down. We just got lucky I even saw this alley!” He taps a bit more before showing the screen with its blinking blue dot to Langa victoriously, who squints against its bright light.
“Ew, light mode, man,” Langa shoves him playfully when they step into the light of the street, which starts a fight as they try to push each other off balance all the way home.
________________________________
The next morning, Langa and Reki are woken by Reki’s mom loudly opening his bedroom door. “Sweetie you’re gonna be- Oh! Langa-kun! I didn’t know you were here! I’m so sorry, honey, Reki should’ve let me know! I didn’t make you a bento to take!” Reki sheepishly apologizes, and in the end, she shoves two freshly wrapped melon pan pastries into Langa’s hand before they leave.
They barely have their eyes open when they walk into school. In a sleepy haze, dodging curious looks from classmates, they miraculously stumble to their seats. Langa considers taking a nap himself when he watches Reki pillow his head on his arms, then decides that at least one of them should take notes for their first block. He’s taking a long sip from his vending machine iced tea when a loud conversation across the room catches his attention.
“Yo, dude, not even exaggerating okay? It was legit four AM when I heard those sirens down the street. Four AM! Don’t criminals have to sleep? They could at least be considerate of us and not get chased!” Langa looks sideways at Reki, who is suddenly awake and winking at him. He nearly inhales his tea as he stifles a shocked laugh, drawing concerned sounds from the girls at the next desk over.
“Langa! Are you okay?” they ask. Reki is already grinning brightly despite the dark circles under his eyes. Langa turns back to the girls.
“Definitely! I’m doing just fine,” he answers. They don’t question his sudden blush.