Work Text:
1.
At first, all Reki knows is skating. How the wind ruffles his hair and clothes, how the air feels cool against his skin despite the heat from skating, and then there’s Langa, appearing out of nowhere and riding both as naturally as snow might fall from the sky.
That's how Langa always looks when he skates. Like he belongs up there in the clouds (where his head often seems to get stuck anyway). Like the air is carrying him higher and higher with every flip of his board. Like he's meant to do it…
Like he's free.
Reki feels that way too, for a while anyway—like skating is this freeing thing. Until his own insecurities shackle him to the pavement just shy of a star he's sure he can never reach.
He misses Langa then. Misses him when things start to fall apart, misses him when they aren't talking, misses him even as he breaks their promise right there in the rain. He misses him then, strangely, more than he misses skating.
2.
It takes more than it probably should have for Reki to find his way back. But after about ten punches to the gut in an alley, a few words of wisdom from the guy who probably knows more about himself than he does, a couple chance encounters with the same guy he’s trying to avoid, and one oddly forgettable near-death experience, Langa's there waiting for him, like his faith in him is so unwavering that he just knew Reki would catch up eventually.
"Reki!" he calls out, smiling as he tumbles down the ramp and their paths collide. His eyes say, ‘I hoped you'd come,’ and Reki realizes, for the second time, as words escape him and he sinks to the pavement, that skating isn't the only thing on his mind anymore.
3.
“Can you move over, Reki?” Langa says, and Reki eyes the small space beside him.
It’s really small—they’d probably even need to share his pillow—but it’s also late. Langa’s probably exhausted from his beef against Adam, and Reki’s definitely exhausted from the emotional stress of his best friend nearly falling off a cliff (so he doesn’t exactly wanna set up the futon right now), but–
“There’s no way you’ll fit, dude,” he says apologetically, and Langa pouts.
“I will if you move over,” he huffs back. “Please? Just for tonight?”
“Fine, fine, jeez.” Reki rolls his eyes, scooting as close to the wall as he can to make room for Langa on his bed. “Better?” he asks, after Langa turns off the lamp and climbs onto the mattress beside him with a content sigh.
“Told you I’d fit.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t really.” Reki points out, trying to adjust his position but giving up when he can't do much of anything without wedging himself closer to Langa. “Hope you like cuddling,” he says into the darkness.
“I like everything when it's with you, Reki,” Langa replies. Then, a few moments later, “...I missed you.”
And as Langa drifts off to sleep beside him, Reki stays awake, debating the ever diminishing reasons why that answer made his heart beat so fast.
4.
The last class before lunch is always the hardest. The warm sun and breeze taunt Reki through the open window, and the clock seemingly ticks slower and slower until he finally has to look away or he’s sure they’ll be stuck there forever.
Today, he ignores whatever the teacher’s saying, doodling idly in his notebook while Langa pokes his foot with his shoe. It’s just a thing they do, casually pestering each other during mundane tasks, even though Reki’s not bothered by it at all.
For a minute, though, the shoe stops. Reki’s eyes flick to Langa, then back to his notebook where Langa’s gaze is holding steady. And for the first time, maybe ever, he’s looking down at his notebook and seeing art that has nothing to do with skating.
There are still ideas for boards scattered about the pages, but there are also two hands making an infinity sign, and two silhouettes watching the sunrise on the roof of a house, and a little comic trailing down the side margins with a snowboarding yeti. It’s… Langa. Lots of him and Langa.
And Reki's pretty sure he's in love with him.
5.
There are cherry blossom buds beginning to form on the trees when everyone gets together to celebrate Langa’s 18th birthday. It’s a little weird, honestly, thinking about how they somehow became friends with this very different group of people. But Reki’s happy, and Langa looks happy too—laughing and eating what’s probably an entire truckload of burgers with a handmade party hat sitting crooked on his head.
He gives a little wave when Reki smiles in his direction, and suddenly the cool spring air feels hot on his skin. “Cute,” Reki breathes out, then takes a shockingly solid punch to the arm from Miya, who he’d forgotten was sitting beside him.
It’s embarrassing how it’s all he can think about later—how cute Langa is—when he takes Langa home and hands him the poorly wrapped gift he’d been hiding under his bed. Langa takes it carefully, looking up at Reki from behind his hair with a shy smile.
“Thank you, Reki,” he says, and Reki quickly looks away, cheeks burning.
“It’s not that s-special or anything,” he says, waving it off before stealing a glance back at Langa, who’s now got the gift pressed close to his chest.
“Of course it is,” says Langa. “It’s from you.”
And if it weren’t for the twins barging in a few seconds later, Reki might’ve kissed him right then and there.
+1
Langa's so close, sitting beside Reki at the top of the ramp, legs hanging over the edge with the sky overhead full of stars. He occasionally leans over, pointing out some of the constellations his dad showed him how to find, and when he does, he's close enough that Reki can see a few stray freckles across his skin. They've been this close before, but only now is Reki really noticing it, how much sun Langa's gotten since moving to Okinawa, and how badly he wants to kiss everywhere it's touched.
He's beautiful, mesmerizing, and Reki knows the sky is what he should be looking at, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off Langa, who’s even more so.
He doesn’t even know how much time passes, just looking at Langa while Langa looks at the stars, but Langa must catch him at some point, sparkling blue eyes suddenly staring back at him with an intensity Reki knows too well. Even now, he can’t tear his eyes away—he never can.
Then, Langa blinks, throws a quick glance over his shoulder before returning to Reki. "What are you looking at?"
"You,” Reki says, without missing a beat.
“O-oh.” Langa releases a shaky breath, nodding a little, and his hand brushes against Reki's before his eyes dart up to the sky again. "The sky's probably prettier."
"Doubt it," Reki says, carefully lacing their fingers together, and he can see the smile that tugs at Langa's lips when he does, the color that spreads across his cheeks and ears, visible even in the dark.
They sit like that for a while, hands clasped between them as they look up at the stars, trading shy smiles and nervous laughter whenever they catch the other stealing a not-so-subtle glance. Reki kisses him too, once on the cheek, then again when Langa's head turns to face him, soft and slow before quickly tugging his headband down to hide how red he probably is from kissing Langa.
And it seems a little crazy—how all he can think right now is Langa, Langa, Langa, when all he used to think about was skating, skating, skating. But it's okay, Reki decides, as Langa kisses him again, smiling into it like he's been thinking about this for a while too. Kissing Langa is maybe a little better than skating anyway.