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One September afternoon, two wild kids decided to sneak out for a late-night ride. There had been a slight chill in the air, but they hadn't expected the rain.
As the afternoon turned to night, one of the kids realized they were in love.
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Laughter echoed through the air as Draken and Mikey roared down the street on their bikes. The deep rumbles of their engines orchestrated perfectly with their rambunctious laughter and ecstatic cries of joy. As they recklessly swerved down the streets, chasing the glowing golden sunset, they seemed ready to outpace even the speed of light.
They continued to surge forward with the passion and energy of a spreading flame. There was no goal in mind, no certain place they were aspiring to reach. All they knew was that they would continue to ride until the creamy orange skies were submerged by the inky black of the night and they were too exhausted to continue.
And they would do it again the next night. And the night after that. They had been doing it for years, after all.
Street lamps turned into blurs of aureate light, and the ground beneath them felt lighter than clouds as rebellious bursts of adrenaline coursed endlessly through both their veins. It felt like the world was their kingdom, something they alone could overtake with ease.
At that moment, both of them felt as if they were invincible, as if all the time in the world was theirs.
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We're totally invincible. We have all the time in the world.
That was what Mikey had been thinking as they raced ahead of Draken, occasionally turning back to look at the other with a carefree smile and a light, breezy laugh.
That was what they had been thinking before a raindrop had plopped down right onto their nose.
And then another.
And another.
And another. And—
Before they knew it, an unforeseen shower of rain was pounding down upon the bubble of paradise they had been lovingly holding onto.
"Fuck!" Mikey cursed, frustration pouring from their voice. "It's raining!"
"Yeah, I can tell," Draken's gruff voice sounded out from behind them. "We should head back before it gets bad."
Mikey sighed. They had been planning to stay out until dark, but apparently, that wasn't going to happen. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go, then."
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They hadn't made it back. Instead, Draken and Mikey were stranded on the staircase of some random store in who-knew-where. They hadn't bothered to check the building's function; all that mattered was that it sheltered them from the rain.
Heavy and unforgiving, the rain pounded down with determination and persistence. Mikey could barely see anything through the thick layer of precipitation. It didn't help that night had fallen, throwing the previously tangerine skies into hues of deep onyx black. Apparently, they had been able to stay out until dark, but they should have been racing down the road on their bikes, not huddled beneath the roof of some random building.
The unexpected showers had brought on a bout of cold weather as well. The temperature had dropped more than a few degrees. Trying to hide an involuntary shiver, Mikey cursed themself for leaving their jacket at home.
Soaked and shivering, Mikey glanced over at Draken, who was sitting beside them. He was peering into the distance with squinted eyes and pursed lips, although all that could be seen ahead was a few very obscured orbs of light sourcing from tall, lonely street lamps.
Draken had brought a sweatshirt. Lucky.
Mikey found themself absent-mindedly staring at their friend, as if stuck in a trance. They took in his features—eyes dark as the night sky above, a steady, defined jawline, and firm, rosy lips, slightly chapped—all veiled by a single strand of blond hair. A nearby street lamp cast a faint glow onto his figure, making him look almost angelic.
Lucky and pretty.
. . . wait, what?
Mikey sat up in surprise, abruptly looking away. Jamming their eyes shut, Mikey desperately tried to push the thought from their mind. Those weird intrusive thoughts always came out of nowhere, and they caught Mikey off guard every time they surfaced. A familiar tingle of warmth pulsed through Mikey’s veins, tinting their face red, making them ever so aware of the way their heart was beating against their ribcage.
No, no, no. You shouldn't feel this way. Not about him. It won't end well.
Mikey shivered again, although they weren't sure if it was from the cold or from the dread ringing through their mind.
"You cold?" Draken seemed to have noticed Mikey trembling in the cold, although he was blissfully unaware of the not-very-platonic thoughts that had just been plaguing their brain.
"Yeah. Should've brought a jacket." Mikey forced themself to sound nonchalant and unbothered as their heart lurched in their chest.
"Here." Draken held out his arms like an open invitation—one that Mikey couldn't refuse.
With a smile of gratitude, Mikey shifted to position themself in the space Draken had created for them. As they snuggled in between Draken's strong arms and steady legs, Draken wrapped his arms around them to pull them closer to his chest. He smelled like motor oil and pinecones and autumn rain and home.
It was such a comfortingly familiar scent, and yet it sent a storm of warm, pleasant sparks through Mikey's stomach every time it reached their nose. They didn't know what to make of it.
"You smell weird, Ken-chin." That was all they could bring themself to say.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Draken shook his head playfully, a smile teasing at his lips. "You're the weird one. I'm the one keeping you warm, and you're insulting me?" he paused, letting out a sigh, "Guess you're not cold after all, then."
He started getting to his feet, untangling his limbs from Mikey's body. And all of a sudden, coldness was biting at Mikey's skin—coldness that stemmed from more than the low temperature outside.
"No, wait! I'm sorry! Come back."
Draken shot them a half-smile—a very charming one, in Mikey's opinion—and sat back down. "Fine, since you're so desperate."
"You're so annoying."
"You're one to talk."
Draken carefully enveloped Mikey in another reassuring embrace. The return of Draken’s warmth felt better than sunlight on a summer day, reaching all the way to Mikey’s heart. Their heartbeat picked up, almost outpacing the constant pulse of the falling rain. But eventually, as the two settled into a comfortable silence, Mikey’s heartbeat slowed to a steadier, less erratic pace.
Their position felt so natural, so familiar, and so very soothing. Mikey found themself habitually angling their body, leaning into Draken for support, before letting a steady hand wander toward the side of Draken’s head, where his iconic dragon tattoo resided. They knew exactly where it started and ended, along with every little detail in between. The curves of the body, the length of the claws, the little slits that revealed tan skin beneath black ink—it was all perfectly ingrained in Mikey’s memory.
When their hand met Draken’s skin, Mikey saw his mouth lift into a small smile. They responded with a smile of their own before tracing the tattoo once, twice, three times, each without flaws, before their arm started stinging with fatigue. They allowed their arm to fall, lightly resting it against Draken’s chest. As Mikey sat there, relaxing against Draken’s body, a calming sense of tranquility shrouded them both.
That was how Mikey always felt with Draken. Calm, peaceful, carefree, serene, full of bliss. Whether it was in his arms or just at his side, being with him filled Mikey with an indescribable comfort, and they knew that was where they belonged.
We belong together.
Images of them just . . . being together started filling up Mikey's thoughts. The first time they had met. The first time Draken had gone to Mikey's house, and the first time Mikey had gone to his. The first time they had shared a bed.
The pleasant memories brought a smile to Mikey's face. Eventually, images of what the future could hold came pouring into their mind as well.
Maybe they would move in together. They had once talked about being roommates when they were older. If they moved in together, they would continue sharing a bed, like they always did whenever one of them slept over at the other's house. Maybe they would adopt a pet. Maybe they would shop for furniture together, cook meals for each other, spend weekends cleaning the house together—although Mikey knew they would make sure they got away with doing as little cleaning as possible.
Maybe they would end up together in the future. In a not-best-friends way.
The thought was so sudden that Mikey almost laughed out loud; it was ridiculous. There was no way that would happen.
It was so ridiculous that they decided to explore it further. Just for fun. Not because they wanted it to happen or anything. Like they had said, it was ridiculous.
If they ended up together, they would never spend a day without gentle cuddle sessions and sweet, loving hugs. They would have weekly date nights on Fridays, preferably at restaurants. They would start the days with whispered I love you's and end them with soft, delicate goodnight kisses.
With that thought, an image slowly started forming in Mikey's brain—an image of Draken and themself; one of Draken's hands was entangled in Mikey's hair while the other was wrapped around their waist, and his lips were pressed firmly against Mikey's, encapsulating them in a deep, passionate kiss.
Oh. Oh God.
Mikey slowly lifted a hand to their lips, arms heavy with shock and disbelief. They swore that they could feel the ghost of Draken's lips still lingering in their presence. A surge of desire twisted at their heart, filling their body with a sweet sensation of pleasure.
No. Stop. You can't think of him like this. He doesn't like you that way and you'll just end up hurt.
And just as suddenly as it had come, the pleasure and ecstasy drained from their body in a matter of seconds. Of course, that would never happen. It was just a stupid, pointless, childish thought. There was no way Draken reciprocated Mikey's feelings.
But . . . what was Mikey feeling?
At that moment, Mikey realized something.
None of their previous crushes had been so painfully passionate. They had experienced a crush on Takemichi a few months ago. It had been packed with bright, burning desire, but that desire had been fragile, fleeting, disappearing almost as quickly as it had spawned.
Their previous crushes had been nowhere near as fulfilling as what they felt for their best friend—they had burnt out quickly, like a spark dancing from a waning fire, or the delicate, flickering flame held by a dissolving candle. What they felt towards Draken . . . well, it was a whole damn forest fire.
To Mikey, all of Draken's imperfections weren't flaws—they just made him more beautiful. They loved his physical imperfections—like the scars on his stomach and right knee or the fact that he got cold really easily. They loved the behavioral ones too—like his habit of eating too much spicy food or the way he gripped peoples' hands much too tightly during handshakes. No matter what he did, no matter how wrong it might have seemed in the eyes of others, Mikey loved him for it.
Wait.
Love?
Holy shit. Am I falling in love?
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Neither of them had expected the rain.
And Mikey sure as hell had not expected to find out that they were deeply in love with their best friend.
Apparently, that's what happens when two rebellious teenagers go out on a late-night ride without thinking to check the weather.
Mikey would never forget that September night.