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Distantly, but all at once, Reki feels Langa’s mouth on his.
Their faces are both flushed, but more so from the heat outside than… well, this. They’re sitting underneath the gaze of no one but the sun and the clouds, both of their skateboards forgotten to the side somewhere. Langa is sitting with his legs outstretched, while Reki sits on top of him, his own legs curled around Langa’s waist. Reki can feel Langa’s hands on his sides, and his own hands are cupping Langa’s cheeks.
Reki can’t feel anything apart from Langa’s mouth pressing gently on his own, but he also feels everything all at once. It’s overwhelming. It’s wonderful.
All too suddenly, Langa pulls away from him, and an embarrassing little whine leaves Reki’s throat. His cheeks flush. Well. More than they already had been, anyway. Langa gives a light laugh that makes Reki feel like his heart is beating out of his chest. Everything Langa does makes Reki feel that way.
Reki thinks he loves Langa. Neither of them have said that, yet, though, and so Reki sticks to “like.” It doesn’t feel like enough. No word in any of the languages Reki knows feels like it fits.
(The “languages Reki knows” consists of Japanese and just a small amount of English, but still. Reki thinks — no, knows — that he loves Langa so much he might burst from the sheer emotional force of it.)
Completely engrossed in his own thoughts, Reki doesn’t notice Langa fondly staring at him. Waiting. Patiently, as he always is. He’s so good to Reki, and it’s unfair. Reki doesn’t know what he did to deserve it, but he’ll do it forever if it means he gets to keep what he and Langa have together.
He looks down at Langa’s soft gaze, and his heart burns. “What?” he manages to stutter out. Langa just smiles, and kisses him again. Reki closes his eyes on instinct, feels Langa’s hand come up to cradle his jaw, and he shudders.
“Langa…” he mumbles, hot and breathy and wanting.
Again, and unexpectedly, Langa pulls away. This time though, he whispers back to Reki. “Reki…” he says, and Reki wonders how Langa can make his name sound like a prayer. “Reki, my love, my love.”
Reki’s eyes snap open. He feels as if his body has been molded into a current, electricity coursing through his veins. Langa brushes his thumb against Reki’s lower lip, and Reki moves his head to the space against Langa’s neck.
“Hnn,” he hums, thoroughly embarrassed. The flush against his cheeks has spread to his ears, now.
Langa laughs, airy and quiet, but Reki can tell that it’s tinged with hesitation. Like he’s not sure of what he can do or say, anymore. “Too much?” he asks, and it sounds so wrong. Reki’s arms, which have been wrapped around Langa’s torso, squeeze just a little bit tighter. He raises his head, looking Langa directly in the eyes, now.
“I just… you haven’t said something like that before, and I got nervous. But I liked it, I promise!” He doesn’t say this, because it would be way too embarrassing, but Reki loves everything Langa says to him. Reki just loves Langa.
“Ah,” Langa answers, and Reki can see the relief on his face. He must’ve thought about saying that a lot. Reki’s heart races, just a little bit. “So I can say it again?”
Reki drops his head to Langa’s neck again. Nods. He doesn’t think he can say anything without his voice cracking horribly.
A hand reaches up to card through his hair. Langa never tugs on his hair, just plays with the strands by threading them through his fingers. “My love,” Reki feels more than hears him say, the steady and low sound going straight through where Reki’s ear is pressed to Langa’s throat. Reki just closes his eyes and listens.
“Reki, my love,” he whispers again. Any air in Reki’s lungs feels like it’s been squeezed out by the words. His eyes sting with the threat of tears. He isn’t sad. Reki just isn’t used to love being thrown upon him so openly and unashamedly, and it feels so nice that it makes his throat burn.
Langa’s hands stop in his hair. He must feel Reki shaking just slightly, and he moves his hand to lift Reki’s chin up. Langa’s hand moves to cup his cheek again, and he brings his other hand from Reki’s waist so he can hold Reki’s face between his palms. He’s so gentle. So caring. So good.
Softly, and with great care as if Reki is something, some one to be treasured, Langa presses a kiss to Reki’s forehead. His eyes are still closed, but tears start to fall from Reki’s eyes. He’s so loved, here, and he doesn’t know what to do with it all.
A thumb brushes against his cheek, wiping the tears away. Even after they’re long gone, Langa’s thumb still lingers, swiping back and forth like a pendulum.
“What’s wrong?” Langa asks, straight to the point, but still gentle. Delicate. Reki finds that he isn’t sure how to answer. Nothing’s wrong, per se, he’s just. Overwhelmed. Not in a bad way, even. It’s simply that he isn’t used to this kind (or this amount) of affection being given to him.
Reki wants to cherish it. Hold it between his hands so gently, but firmly enough so as to not let it slip between his fingers.
“Mm,” he hums, trying to work up the nerve to speak. He doesn’t exactly know how to put this. He doesn’t want to say that he’s a little overwhelmed, because then Langa will stop all of this and Reki almost starts crying again at the thought. What to do, what to say?
“I. Um. I’m not exactly used to. This,” he says, and he hates the way Langa’s face changes, becomes more withdrawn as if he’s ready to stop. Reki loves that he’s so considerate, but he also thinks that if Langa stops touching him and calling him love, he’ll die.
“It isn’t bad!” He hastens to say. “It’s not bad, I promise, I. I love it.” I love you, he leaves out. He hopes Langa hears it, somehow.
Langa hums. “Are you sure?” he asks, careful. “I don’t want to make you upset.”
Reki doesn’t cry again, but he comes very close to it. He isn’t upset! He could never be upset with Langa calling him sappy names and kissing him like he’s the only thing that matters. He can’t form the words to express this, and the longer he hesitates the more Langa’s going to think he doesn’t like this, he knows, but. What can he say? How does he find those words?
Langa takes one hand off of Reki’s face to hold his hand, and it’s as if he’s moved a little bit of courage to Reki’s spirit, because now he thinks he knows what he can say. He takes a short, but deep breath.
“I love you,” he says. It’s simple, to the point. Langa’s eyes widen, and Reki hears his breath hitch.
“You… you…?” He trails off, and Reki laughs just a little. Langa’s tone suggests he’s asked a question, but he stops there, not adding anything to it.
Now, it’s Reki’s turn to cup Langa’s cheek with his hand. “Dummy,” he says, still smiling an awfully fond smile. “I said, I love you.” He drags out the “eh” sound, and as he does, Reki lightly taps the tip of Langa’s nose. For emphasis, he thinks to himself.
“No, I…” Langa stops. Closes his eyes. Starts again. “I mean, I. Love you, too.” His voice cracks terribly on the word “love.” Reki laughs again. Now that he knows he isn’t the only one nervous, and that the sentiment is shared between the two of them, he’s in a more lighthearted mood. A mood to tease, he thinks mischievously.
“Sorry, what was that? I don’t think I heard you. Say it again?”
Langa’s face looks as if it’s been thoroughly burned by the sun, it’s so red. Reki has half a mind to stop the teasing, but this is too fun an opportunity to pass up. Langa’s always the one saying things that make Reki short-circuit, so now it’s his turn to give Langa a taste of his own medicine!
“Hmm, Reki,” Langa whines, dragging out the “i.”
“Langa,” Reki calls back. Langa’s lips pull into a frown, his cheeks puffing into a pout. It’s the most adorable thing Reki’s ever seen.
In one, honestly impressively fluid movement, Langa shifts so that his head is on Reki’s lap. Reki laughs and places his palms on either side of Langa’s face, squishing his cheeks just slightly.
Langa hums noncommittally, his eyes slipping closed. “I, said I. Love. Um. I love. You.” Even though his eyes aren’t open, Reki supposes that he’s especially nervous, for some reason. It’s almost funny, how Langa can go from saying things like “my love” to stuttering terribly when he tries to tell Reki he loves him. Reki doesn’t mind it. If anything, it endears him further to Langa’s ridiculous, adorable self.
At least, if that’s even possible.
Reki leans down, brushing Langa’s bangs to the side and pressing a kiss to his forehead as he does. “Langa, ah,” he starts. “I love you, don’t you know?”
Langa’s eyes snap open, so fast that Reki feels like he might’ve hurt himself, somehow. His gaze locks on Reki’s, and Reki sees a few stray tears trail down his cheeks. Something tells him Langa’s feeling a bit overwhelmed, like he was earlier, so he doesn’t ask if something’s wrong. Instead, Reki just brushes the tears away and smiles softly.
“Say it again?” Langa asks, something very raw in his tone. Reki shushes him quietly, gently, and nods.
“I adore you, Langa Hasegawa. "Have for a while, for your information,” at this, Reki pinches the tip of Langa’s nose. A little giggle leaves Langa’s lips, and Reki wants to chase the sound. Wants to cup it between his palms and keep it clutched to his heart.
“Mm,” Langa hums in assent. He closes his eyes again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards in a slight smile. He looks so content, as if he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with Reki, and Reki’s chest feels like it’s overflowing. I love him, I love him, I love him, he thinks, to the rhythm of his own heartbeat.
“Hey,” Reki calls, softly. “Aren’t you going to say it back?”
Langa says nothing, opting to flip over so that his head is facing Reki’s stomach. He presses a kiss there, and Reki’s face flushes.
“Langa,” he whines, though it sounds more like “Lan- ga.” Langa doesn’t pay this any attention, instead opting to press more kisses to Reki’s stomach. In retaliation, Reki grabs Langa’s cheeks between his hands, tilts his head up, and kisses him. Not on the lips, though. He intentionally “misses” Langa’s lips and lands the kiss on his forehead instead. Langa frowns.
“Reki, I think you missed,” he says, and it sounds so serious that Reki has to hold back a laugh.
“Oh! So I did! My mistake,” this time, he kisses Langa on the cheek. Langa honest-to-god whines this time, and Reki can’t stifle his laughter.
“You big baby,” he teases, the smile not leaving his lips. He’s doing a lot of that, lately. “Fine,” and he connects their lips. For real, this time.
Langa’s mouth tastes so sweet, like pancakes topped with maple syrup, like a sip of cold milk on a hot day. Like home. Reki can’t get enough of it, and he doesn’t suppose he’ll ever be able to. He hopes Langa feels the same.
They break apart, faces completely red. Their eyes meet, and they both laugh, helpless. Reki thinks he could stay here until the end of time. Here, with the boy he loves by his side. Reki knows they’re young, but he thinks that he would be happy to stay with Langa until they’re old and grey. And he doesn’t know what goes on inside Langa’s head, but he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Langa would be content to do the same.