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Joe’s heart hammers in his chest as he struggles to keep his best friend in his sights. He knows where he’s heading, so it doesn’t matter if he loses track of him. He’ll catch up.
Only, he can’t shake the feeling that if he slows his speed at all, if he lets Cherry get too far ahead, he’ll be left behind.
He threads through traffic, dodges angry pedestrians who shake their fists at him, and sails around corners at reckless speeds to keep even a single strand of pink hair in his view.
No matter what, he can’t let himself be left behind. But part of him knows that the fear clawing at his throat right now is because Adam did just that. Or maybe it’s because he already felt like he’d been scrambling to keep up with the two of them, Adam and Cherry.
Probably.
But even though Cherry has gotten further and further from his reach, the thought of being all alone after already losing so much is more than he can bear, so he presses on.
The sound of his wheels on the pavement does nothing to drown out the rush of his heart, or the way his voice breaks around Kaoru’s name as he begs him to wait or to slow down.
Cherry doesn’t slow down. Not even when he ollies over the curb in front of the Ocean View Drive-In. He hits the pavement and launches himself forward, leaving his board behind as he runs the last few feet to the rusted stretch of railing that overlooks the sea.
For one terrifying moment it looks like he might throw himself straight off the edge, but he hits the railing just as Joe reaches the curb and he lets out a horrible cry, his anguish echoing off the cliffs below as Joe skids to a stop.
Joe hesitates. Not out of fear, but … standing there looking out at the sea, white knuckled against the railing with the wind whipping his hair around his shoulders, Cherry looks untouchable. Unbreakable even.
But Joe knows better than that.
He wonders if maybe Cherry doesn’t want him to see him like this. If maybe that’s why he ran. But … from the moment that black car pulled away on the other side of town he knew Cherry would come here. Just the same way he was certain that Cherry knew he would follow. Just like he always had.
And where else would he go besides their place. The place they had always gone to be wholly and unapologetically themselves. Before they were special.
Before S.
Before Adam.
He crosses the distance and wraps his arms around Cherry. Pulls him close when Cherry spins around in his embrace and slides a hand into that beautiful silken hair that had fallen loose from its tie. He cradles his face against his chest and wraps him up tight, and Cherry clings to him. Desperately. The same way he clung to the railing, white knuckled and trembling like that grip is the only thing keeping either of them tethered here.
He doesn’t say a word, but Joe can feel the tears staining the front of his shirt. He holds him tighter anyway, palm cupping his nape, fingers brushing lightly against his scalp in a way that he hopes is soothing because he doesn’t know what else he can do.
Even if it’s not, Cherry doesn’t complain. Doesn’t swat him away or pelt him with insults. He only wraps his arms around Joe’s waist and squeezes him impossibly tight, burrows further into his little protective cocoon.
Quiet sobs shudder through him, and Kojiro’s heart aches. Cherry feels so small, pressed here against his chest, collapsing in on himself. He feels almost fragile in his arms, and it makes tears collect in the corners of Joe’s eyes. Hot, angry tears, because Cherry has never been fragile or small.
The Cherry he knows is bold and bright. Sharp witted and sharper tongued. Only Adam has ever been able to tear him down like this.
Adam, who told them they were special. A secret shared under the moonlight.
But Joe has never felt more special than he does in those moments when Cherry pins him with those golden eyes of his. It feels like warm sunlight flooding his veins. Leaves him with a rush rivaled only by that feeling he gets when he drops in from the top of the half pipe.
Adam made him feel invincible if only for the briefest of moments.
But Kaoru? Kaoru makes him feel alive.
He wants to fix this so badly. Wishes he had chased Adam down, pulled him out of that car, and dragged him back here to force an apology out of him. Joe has never been a violent man, but he would make Adam feel twice as much hurt for every tear soaking into his chest right now, if only it would stop Cherry from crying ever again.
“Why? Why couldn’t he stay? Why doesn’t he ...?”
Cherry’s voice cracks and the words lodge in his throat, but still, the question lingers in the air between them and Joe feels his heart break all over again. Because it doesn’t make any sense.
How could anyone not love Kaoru?
Joe feels his heart break all over again because it’s the same unanswerable question he’s asked himself over and over and over.
Why doesn’t he love me?
With gentle fingers he tips Cherry’s face up, cups a hand against his cheek and looks into his tearful eyes, molten gold and blazing even brighter than the sun out on the edge of the horizon.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly.
He brushes Cherry’s bangs back off his forehead and wipes away his tears with the rough pad of his thumb. He holds him carefully, not like something fragile, but something precious because that’s exactly what he is to Joe. Exactly what he’s always been.
And he knows he should stop. Knows it will only hurt more if he doesn’t pull away, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Not when Cherry is clinging to him like he thinks Joe will evaporate before his eyes if he loosens his grip even a fraction.
He traces the edge of Cherry’s jaw and thinks of all the things he wants to say to him. Tries to find the words to make him believe that he’ll be fine without Adam. That they never needed him in the first place. He tries to string together all of the promises and I love you’s that have been stored up inside him for so long, but the words won’t come.
Cherry looks up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Kojiro ...”
Another question, only this time, Joe feels the answer spark in his heart.
“… Kaoru.”