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Reki should have known this was coming. It happens every year, he thought. This should come as no surprise.
Still, he lets himself be fooled by the nice feelings he gets when he’s with his friends, especially Langa. He lets himself think he’s happy. The happiness doesn’t last, though. It never did.
Once the leaves began to fall from the branches of which they previously latched onto, metamorphosing from green hues to browns and reds, Reki lost the vibrance he felt from daily life, temporarily losing interest in everything that made him happy. It’s not like he can control it, really. Even in Okinawa, the winters were still as dull and grey as they would be anywhere else. He just so happened to be one of the victims of the emotional turmoil it caused.
Oka called it seasonal depression, his teachers called it laziness. No matter the name of it, Reki couldn’t help but feel constant dread and emptiness as his brain rattled insults at him as if it were his middle school bully.
You’re selfish for thinking you could be friends with them.
You’re not nearly as talented as everyone else.
You shouldn’t feel this way. You’re stupid.
People rely on you to make them happy. You’re failing them. You’re a terrible person.
You should feel sorry for your friends for being stuck with you.
No matter how much that last one stung, he couldn’t help but agree with it as he lay in bed, his phone alarm blaring to him that it’s time to wake up. Despite how loud and close it was to his face, he didn’t register it as prominent until Koyomi slammed his door open and turned it off for him. Before she left, he heard her sigh with the essence of her voice.
He couldn’t bear to be a disappointment today, too, but that’s all he knew how to do. He hated not being happy. He hated the idea that he couldn’t keep up with them, but he feared them leaving him behind more than anything.
He was at a complete loss. His phone rang for notifications 8 times as he lay in bed, staring at the wall as the dull grey light seeped in through his curtains that he didn’t even realize were open. Must have been Koyomi.
He opened his phone to text her a thanks for opening his curtains, trying his best to ignore the mound of messages from Langa. That’s right. Langa.
He read every single message. He could give him that much, at least.
Hey. Manager Oka said your schedule might be shifting a lot. Is everything okay? <
Are you coming to school or are you sick? <
Please let me know if you need anything. <
Reki didn’t have energy to keep a conversation going, but he knew he had to say something, responding with:
> sick
> don’t want you to catch it
He expected Langa to just leave it at that, turning off his phone and shifting to his other side to face the wall. Closing his eyes, he heard the sound of another notification. Probably Langa telling me to get better. I would if I could.
He didn’t deserve Langa, he knew that much. The taller man was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, baring hair softer than the clouds and eyes that rivalled the clearest of skies, wielding both incredible talent and care (despite not knowing how to show it). Reki knew he struck gold when he met him, even more so when Langa had confessed to him, but he didn’t truly realize just how much Langa colored in the grey parts of his life until he saw him skate for the first time, wielding grace of which he seemed so unaware of. With how ethereal he was, he had no idea how he could return the feelings of love that Reki had towards him.
It was the moment right before Reki let himself fall back asleep that he thanked his boyfriend for being oblivious with other people’s feelings. He shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.
• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
He woke up to a soft knock on the door, assuming it was Koyomi bringing him food based on the time flashing from his phone.
“Can you leave it at the door, Koyomi?” his voice came out a lot more cracked than he’d have liked, but it made sense, considering I haven’t spoken since yesterday.
“Uh, it’s Langa.”
Huh?
The words from that soft, all too familiar voice made Reki scramble out of bed, going to open the door.
Lo and behold, there his best friend and lover stood, a plastic container of ramen in each hand and a bag dangling from his arm. He could feel his shoulders rise with a sickly-sweet mixture of happiness and surprise, but it was quickly put out by his fire extinguisher of a brain telling him that he’s missing school because of you.
“Why the hell aren’t you at school?” Once again, his voice betrayed him. This time, the point of blame was on his chest as he bore his weight into his words. It felt like it took everything out of him.
“You didn’t respond to my text. I got worried.” Langa’s puppy dog eyes left no victims standing, especially not Reki, who walked back to his bed to grab his phone and see the lone message:
I’m coming over. <
He felt the slightest of smiles stretch his face, only lasting for two seconds until his brain revealed its cruel joke on him once more, the only thought in his head being that he burdened his own boyfriend. He couldn’t think to say anything, only laying back down and curling up against the wall.
“Reki? What’s wrong?” a twinge of panic snaked its way through his best friend’s voice. It’s your fault , his brain told him. Shut the hell up , he refuted. It never worked, no matter how much he tried.
“Nothing. Just tired.” He wasn’t exactly lying.
“Reki, I might not know exactly what’s wrong, but I can still tell when something’s up. What’s really wrong?” He felt the other’s weight shift the bed by his back.
Keep it in. Keep it in. You’ve been doing so good until now, he told himself.
At the realization that that’s the first nice thing his brain has said to him, he broke. Before he could stop himself, he let out a heavy, shaky breath, feeling his chest constrict. He sat up, looking at his hands before digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.
Ah, he thought. There’s tears there.
“Reki, lovely, hey,” Langa was immediately at his side with gentle hands trying to pull Reki’s hands from his face. His hands are so soft. He’s so soft.
“I- Langa, I’m so tired,” he heaved out, like the words were a parasite he’d been hosting since birth that finally got kicked out.
The taller’s hands finally made their way under Reki’s own, revealing his bloodshot, puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. I probably look like shit.
So why was Langa looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky?
Reki was awestruck, looking at the other. He hadn’t realized he matched his breathing to the other’s until he heard the words “good job” from his mouth.
For once, he thought he could allow himself to be selfish. Just this once, he thought, as he sunk into Langa, burying his face into his chest. He felt hands combing through his hair.
“Probably greasy,” he mutters into the chest.
“Don’t care.” The hands continued.
As he felt the material of Langa’s shirt crinkling between his clenched hands, he realized that though his breathing was no longer labored, the tears didn’t stop their stream.
Neither did Langa’s hands as he wiped away each and every one when he turned Reki’s face to look at him. With the way they were positioned, one might think the blunette was cradling the redhead as he lay dying in his arms. This is the only way I wanna go, Reki pondered.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Reki?”
If there were a list of things he’d never expect Langa to say, this would be at the top.
“Wh- huh?” he couldn’t fathom where that came from and why the other man thought so.
“I said you’re pretty,” Langa spoke as if it were the truest thing in the world, right there next to the sky is blue and the grass is green. “You’re so expressive, especially in your hands and eyes. Your eyes, Reki. They’re the prettiest color I’ve ever seen. You’re the prettiest color I’ve ever seen. You have a will that’s so strong-” Reki could feel his face growing hot, “- and you’d do anything for the people you care about. You’re the most caring person I’ve ever met, not to mention the warmest. Every time I’m around you, my heart races in the best way possible. Reki, you’re my home.”
By now, there was a swell in his chest replacing the emptiness and a fluttering feeling in his stomach. “Langa,” he begian to inquire, “you don’t usually talk this much, where did this come fro-”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry this weight on your own. Whatever’s bothering you, Reki, I’m here to help in any way I can.”
Reki hadn’t realized he had tensed up until he felt himself melting once again as Langa wipes more tears that he hadn’t noticed had fallen, planting a small kiss right in between his eyebrows.
“I think it’s seasonal depression,” just at the beginning, he starts to feel like he can finally breathe. “It happens every year around this time, it gets hard for me to get out of bed and I can’t respond to texts and it makes me feel so shitty. I already feel like I’m being left behind, because I’m not talented or skilled or smart like you and everybody else-” he shifted his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see what kind of face Langa makes at hearing this, “- and I guess I’ve always felt that way, but it’s no big deal, I’ll get over it soo-”
“Stop.” The force in Langa’s voice made it hard not to look up, and when he did, he saw the other’s eyebrows knitted together. The same look he has before beefs. Determination? “I know you might think it’s true, but Reki, it’s not. The reason everyone is talented is because of the amount of experience. Joe and Cherry are adults with more practice than either of us. Shadow plays dirty when he skates. Hell, Miya was practically born on a board.” Reki chuckled at that one. “But just because you have to work hard doesn’t mean you’re not talented or skilled. If anything, it means quite the opposite. It’ll take you some time to see yourself that way, but we’ll work on it.”
“We?” Reki hoped the desperation in his eyes wasn’t prominent.
The soft look on Langa’s face was back. “I’m here with you every step of the way.”
Tears swelled their way into Reki’s eyes, but the one holding him had been there to catch them. It’s always been like this with us, huh.
He brought his hand to Langa’s face, cupping his cheek.
“When did you get so good with words, you sap?” Reki felt a smile spread across his face once more. It’s not how it used to be, but it’ll change.
Langa took the hand that was cupping his cheek, pressing his lips to the palm. “If it’s with you, I can be anything.”
Another realization hits Reki like a truck.
We’ve been dating for two months, but still haven’t kissed.
He at least deserves that much. After everything he’s done. He deserves so much more.
He tried to not pay much attention to that very last sentence as he brought the other man’s face closer, planting a slow kiss to his lips. When he felt him tense, he began to pull away.
“Sorry-”
“ Reki ,” Langa breathed as he chased Reki’s lips, kissing him slowly, delicately, as if he was all that mattered in the world. It was so much to him, the way he spoke Reki’s name like a prayer, the way he looked at him with so much awe in his eyes, the tenderness of how he held him with his thumb rubbing soft circles into his side.
When they finally pulled apart, Langa gave Reki the look again, this time with words that he probably should have expected of his boyfriend.
“Our ramen is probably cold by now.”
It would take some time for Reki to believe he deserved Langa. It would take even more time for him to believe the words he’d spoken about him as true.
His first step to believing so was taken in that very moment, when he thought, I’ll give myself this much at least.