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Reki squints in an attempt to lessen the damage from his abnormally bright-but-already-on-the-lowest-setting phone screen. It had been another long night at ‘S’ as he came in second place in his one-on-one beef with Cherry– just barely, okay?! Carla totally elongated the board last minute– but there was absolutely no desire to sleep. He couldn’t sleep. Well, couldn’t… or wouldn’t? Was this alertness self-induced? He could always just lock his thoughts away so he can get some sleep before his early opening shift at Dope Sketch tomorrow morning— well, today morning, actually.
He should. He really should, but why is he frantically typing “is it possible for your brain to change overnight” in the search bar instead?
The thought has been gnawing in his head ever since he woke up for school at 7AM. Well, it actually started at approximately 7:45AM when he met up with Langa on his way to school. It was just their typical routine: greeting, dapping, and skating. But today, everything felt different from the moment his eyes laid on Langa. He’s been trying to figure it out all day and made absolutely z-e-r-o progress (obviously). He was the same Langa from the day before; nothing had changed between last night and this (last?) morning yet his stomach felt all weird.
At first he blamed his breakfast, maybe his mom didn’t cook his eggs well enough. It was quickly dismissed when he remembered that his breakfast was leftover mapo tofu reheated from last night. Then, he tried to blame the amount of sleep he got, which was again dismissed when he remembered that he accidentally knocked out after dinner. Then, he blamed it on a rock or hole that magically probably appeared the second Reki arrived.
Yeah, that sounds right. A magical pot hole that was out to get him.
He sighs, scrolling down the countless articles that were quite off from his initial search. He’s pretty sure that sometimes your brain can just flip a switch and turn a food you once loved into something you’re now allergic to. Maybe it has to do with how new cells are regenerating every day and how you’re molecularly different every seven years. He’s sure that some teacher had taught them that in science not too long ago. That was a thing, right? The brain is a weird thing— the human body is a weird thing. Literally, people are all just slabs of meat that can walk around because of a wrinkly half-of-a-basketball sized thing… or roughly, he’s not sure how big the brain is, actually.
But then the question turned to why did his brain decide to turn against him all of a sudden. Why did his brain suddenly decide that he can’t talk to his best friend without stuttering and sweaty hands? Why did his brain make his eyes linger on his best friend when they were together? Why did his brain decide the best place to look when his best friend is talking is at his lips? Why is it doing that to him?
Why?
Reki is startled back to reality when his phone buzzes, the first alarm appearing in a banner at the top of his screen. Fuck, had he been distracted for too long. The regret kicks in as he heaves himself off the bed and grabs some clothes for a quick shower to wake himself up.
He curses at both himself and the fact that the store opened so damn early in the morning— what skateboarder would go shopping before noon, let alone at the crack of dawn? Skateboarding was an afternoon-evening sport in Reki’s opinion. The bright, crack-of-dawn boarding sport was surfing. Surfing .
“It’s surfing,” he mutters quietly as he violently shakes the locked door of Dope Sketch. His manager emerges from behind a pile of boxes inside and unlocks the door for Reki within the minute.
“Just break the glass next time,” he offers as a greeting.
“Shut it,” Reki bites, clearly not in the mood and Oka steps back, taking the hint.
“Oh, someone’s grumpy,” he chuckles. Nevermind; if he wants a go at Reki then he’s down to go .
But he’s all talk— well maybe he’s not, but it’s too early for this— so Reki merely glares at Oka as he walks past him to clock in on the tablet. Looks like today is all restocking. Fun.
“What’s on your mind?” Oka finally breaks the silence after half the boxes were done and broken down.
“It’s stupid,” Reki sighs, readjusting his headband.
“Try me.”
“Has your brain ever like… tried to sabotage you?”
“How so?”
“I dunno, it’s stupid,” Reki says through slightly gritted teeth.
“It’s clearly not if it’s bothering you,” Oka says matter-of-factly. Sometimes Reki forgets that his manager is actually a full functioning adult with life experience and advice and not just an overgrown child.
He struggles to find the words before finally settling on: “I think it’s trying to sabotage my friendship with Langa.”
“What makes you think that?”
Reki scrunches his nose and frowns, “I have a hard time talking to him now.”
“Like he’s been bothering you and you don’t want to be his friend anymore?”
“What? No.” Reki says flatly, offended.
Why would Oka even think that? He wouldn’t even dream of being apart from Langa… like ever. He couldn’t be bribed with all the money in the world. Not even if he was promised skateboarding fame. Not in a million years. Not ever. He doesn’t remember what his life was like before Langa arrived and he can’t be bothered to even try because it was probably very lonely. But with Langa always skating by his side, he has never felt alone.
(Well, except for that one time he was ridden with anxiety and fear when Langa signed up for Adam’s tournament but at least that sadistic man is far far away now. Ideally it would be six-feet-under-the-ground far away but alas, he is merely away in America at the moment.)
“I see.” It’s almost a laugh and Reki frowns even more.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he replies with a soft smile.
“What?” Reki repeats, slightly aggravated.
“Don’t worry about it. Can you unlock the doors?”
“Useless,” Reki jokes, rolling his eyes and Oka laughs at that. “Don’t offer advice if you don’t have any.”
“I do have advice, actually. But you don’t get them just yet.”
“You’re horrible, you know that?” He wants to press him, to get any advice he can. Anything would help, but he knows Oka knows how to stand his ground when the situation calls for it.
The remainder of his shift flies by and suddenly he’s gliding down the busy streets, weaving between people to the best of his ability. Of course, he has to send multiple quick apologies to passersby— he’s not that good after all. But Langa… no, no. You promised yourself to stop thinking like that.
He pushes against the doors of Sia La Luce and is immediately overstimulated. The loud overlapping of conversations and smell of all types of dishes almost physically slaps him in the face and he tries his best to shrink as he shuffles through the restaurant.
He’s too busy trying to take control of his senses that he messes up on walking and trips on his own feet, but as he braces himself for impact, hands wrap delicately around his waist and steadies him. Reki recognizes those hands and that deodorant anywhere.
Langa.
“Are you okay, Reki?”
Fuck, why does he have to say his name like that ?
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks man,” he tries his best to avoid eye contact but Langa’s all up in his face with his beautiful Japanese-Canadian features and electric eyes.
“Really? You’re all red,” Langa presses the back of his hand onto his cheek and Reki only gets hotter.
“I’m good, man. I swear.”
“Are you getting sick?”
“I’m not,” he says meekly, not sure of how much longer he can stay standing with Langa’s hands on him.
“Stop blocking traffic, you lovebirds,” Miya scoffs, pushing between the pair. “You two make me sick .”
… love?
They’re friends, so of course he loves Langa. Why is that even a bad thing? Friends are supposed to love each other aren’t they? That’s not really a bad thing per se. Plus, there are many kinds of love, not just the kissy gooey love that Miya was implying. He was implying that, right? Like boyfriend-girlfriend love? Though in this case, it really would be more like boyfriend-boyfriend love. Wait… was he thinking about being Langa’s boyfriend? Was he even okay with that? No, that’s not right. He’s not even into guys like that, is he? He’s only ever been attracted to girls. But Langa is pretty. Prettier than most people he’s ever laid his eyes on, girls included. He’s beautiful. But Reki is just acknowledging his looks, any straight man would be able to do the same as long as they weren't the toxic masculine type.
“Reki!”
“Huh?” Reki snaps back to reality at the sound of his name and feels a nudge. Next thing he knows, he’s being tugged deeper into the restaurant by his sleeve.
“I told you the other kids were here,” Joe hisses over the counter as they approach the bar. “I know everyone who enters and leaves my restaurant.”
“I distinctly remember the time you almost dropped the four plates of food you were carrying because I ‘scared the living shit’ out of you,” Cherry counters.
“Well maybe if you didn’t glide around like a motherfucking—”
“— language—”
“— ghost all the time then maybe it wouldn’t be a fucking—”
“— watch your language around the kids, you monkey—”
“— problem, now would it?” Joe finishes calmly. “They’re twelve and seventeen, they’ll be fine.”
“I’m thirteen , mind you,” Miya hisses angrily.
“Same thing,” Joe shrugs. “Reki, come help me prep some food?”
“Huh? Sure.” Reki stumbles off the stool and beelines his way through the Employees Only door, slowing down only once he matches pace with Joe. “Don’t you usually do it yourself or just ask one of your cooks?”
“They’re busy as is,” Joe says simply. “And is it wrong for me to want some company?”
“Oh… sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” the man chuckles, “but you looked a little out of it back there.”
“I did?”
“What’s on your mind, bud?”
Reki frowns at the nickname but lets it slide because… well, it’s Joe.
“You and Cherry,” Reki starts, not knowing where the rest of the sentence was going. “You’re friends, right?”
“We are; have been for a while now.”
Reki watches as Joe works his magic with a knife at a speed much, much faster than his when he was stopped and lectured by his mother for an hour. On top of speedily dicing vegetables and meat, he’s also watching the bread on the grill so it doesn’t burn. Reki’s so impressed and intrigued by his agility and multitasking abilities that he almost forgets why he’s there in the first place.
“Was there something else you wanted to know?” Joe asks after the realization that Reki isn’t going to say anything else on his own.
“What are you making?” Reki’s mouth is watering a bit too much.
“Bruschetta.”
He hums in approval before continuing, “Have you ever, like… felt weird around Cherry?”
“I feel all sorts of emotions around him. What do you mean ‘weird’?”
“Like ones you shouldn’t be feeling. Like you look at him and your stomach feels all weird and your heart goes all ‘thump thump’ and your hands can’t stop sweating and you can’t take your eyes off of him.”
“Have you ever been in love, Reki?”
“I love lots of things,” he frowns. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Just answer the question please.”
“Fine. No, okay? Things like that just don't happen to me. It’s Langa who gets all the girls and the confessions.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“What is this, therapy ?” Reki rolls his eyes but answers the question anyway: “I wish he wasn’t so popular.”
“Why not? Isn’t it cool to be friends with the popular kid?”
Reki merely blinks. It is cool to be friends with the popular kid because by transitive property, that makes you cool too. So why wouldn’t he want that?
“You never answered my question,” he tries to turn the tables against Joe.
“What?” He laughs, “have I ever felt weird around him?”
“Yeah.”
“I have,” Joe says seriously, completely changing the previously lighthearted atmosphere. “I still do, actually. Though if I didn’t, Kaoru would somehow find out and kill me.”
“...Kaoru?”
“You’re only familiar with our ‘S’ names, aren’t you?”
So Kaoru is Cherry. But why did he call him by his first name? Oh wait, then again he calls Langa ‘Langa’ instead of ‘Hasegawa’ and Langa calls him ‘Reki’ instead of ‘Kyan’. That makes sense.
“I see you figured it out,” Joe laughs.
“But why would he kill you if you stopped?” Reki doesn’t know if he could ever make sense of that. It’s bound to keep him up at night.
“I’ll tell you a secret then,” the green haired man leans in closer to Reki before saying the last words Reki thinks he’d ever hear from Joe’s mouth: “Kaoru and I are dating.”
Instead of reacting to that statement, he finds himself jumping to the sound of loud doors swinging open and an angry Miya.
“What is taking so long? I’m hungry!”
“Sorry, kid,” Joe says, amused, as he pulls the bread off the grill. “It’ll be right out. You can head out too, Reki.”
The kitchen door closes with a huge thump; Miya’s gone as fast as he arrived. As much as Reki wants to go back outside, he decides to hang around and watch as Joe finishes up the food.
“When did you start dating?” Reki finally builds up the courage to ask.
The chef merely looks at him, eyes seemingly flashing the phrase “I’m not telling you”, but he opens his mouth to speak anyway.
“After Langa won that race with Adam.” He carefully slides one of the large plates over to Reki, “try one.”
Holy shit that’s good . Cherry’s so lucky he has a boyfriend that can cook.
“Is that what you look for the most in a partner, their cooking skills?”
Oh shit he said that out loud.
“N-no,” Reki feels himself turning red once more. “But uh, haven’t you guys been friends since like… forever? Why now?”
“I heard Langa makes bomb omelets,” Joe winks, contributing to Reki’s already red face. “That’s just how things are… but I did like him in high school.”
“So why…” He feels himself trail off because he thinks he knows why.
The older man merely gives him a look. “Kaoru had some stuff he needed to work through that only time can fix. Maybe you’ll understand when you’re older.”
“I’m not a child, Joe.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you were thinking that.”
“Maybe,” Joe grins, not even bothering to attempt to deny it. “C’mon, let’s go back before the child prodigy decides to burn down my restaurant.”
It was happening again. Langa’s being confessed to and all Reki can do is watch. Well, he can always look away but this looming fear of Langa one day finally accepting a confession has him on his toes. If he gets a girlfriend then he’ll have to spend more time with her and thus less time with Reki. Less time skating. And what if she hates skating? What if she disapproves of ‘S’? Then she’ll try to force him to stop and… what if he does? What if he chooses her over skating? Her over anything? Then he’ll lose his best friend; he doesn’t want that.
Reki doesn’t want to lose Langa.
Thankfully, he rejects this girl too. There’s a mix of sighs of relief from girls and grumbling from jealous guys who don’t understand why Langa has yet to accept a confession. Reki’s reaction is to let out the breath he’s been holding in anticipation. But how much longer will this go on? He’ll be interested in a girl, eventually. Maybe he’ll even go on and confess on his own— though Reki doubts he would because Langa is too shy and awkward for that… right?
“Hey, did you have any idea of what to get your girl for Valentine’s Day coming up?” Reki overhears a classmate ask his friend.
“Oh shit, I completely forgot it’s next Friday—”
Oh shit, Reki had forgotten about Valentine’s Day too. The week leading up to the day itself is hell in and of itself so the day being at the end of the week is a living nightmare for him.
“Reki?” It’s Langa’s voice.
“Oh hey,” Reki greets, trying to play it casually. How did he get back to the second floor so fast?
“You’ve been out of it lately—” Langa looks so concerned for him , it’s driving him crazy “—are you sick?”
“I’m not,” Reki dismisses the comment immediately. Maybe he was sick, given how weird his stomach feels all the time and how his hands have been clammy lately. But he doesn’t want Langa to worry about something like that. “C‘mon man, let’s head to the park?”
“Yeah!”
It’s the first day of Valentine's week and Langa’s locker is already stuffed to the brim of confession letters and whatever else girls use to confess. Even so, there were countless others who opted to deliver their cards and candies in person. A good amount (correction: all) of the messages and gifts given to Reki were to be given to Langa; it was an ego smasher for sure.
It’s the second day and things have died down but Reki’s far from unbothered. There’s still too many people confessing to Langa, especially during lunch break. They only managed to settle down for a minute or so before Langa was pulled away by a girl with long hair, and when that was done, he was immediately pulled into a different direction by another girl, and then another one.
He just wants his friend, is that really too much to ask?
The third day, Wednesday, isn’t so bad. On the contrary, he finally received a letter meant for him . His… second confession, though the first happened in elementary school so did it even count? Of course, he had no interest in the girl given all he could think about these days was skating with Langa and, against his will, college entrance exams.
When he told Langa, his skating mood seemed to wilt almost immediately and was replaced with annoyance and irritation.
But why?
Why wasn’t his friend happy for him? Langa’s gotten like a bajillion cards, flowers, and chocolates the past few days but the second Reki gets one , all hell breaks loose? How is that even fair?
They part ways as the sun sets, Langa setting off into a direction that definitely wasn’t home and Reki to a direction that was. He would usually question it but wasn’t in the mood to ask today.
In hindsight, he should’ve asked because Langa’s not at school today. Reki waited ten minutes at their meeting spot before reality settled in and he began skating by himself to school. Why? Heavens knows; he should’ve just ditched to skate in the park a bit or maybe drop by Joe’s place for company (and free food).
The day was filled with disappointment for everyone. For Reki because Langa isn’t replying to his texts, so he’s eating lunch alone, as well as for the girls who were working up their courage to confess on the day before Valentines just for their efforts to go to waste.
Today, Reki refuses to accept any confessions in Langa’s place. They can just give it to him tomorrow or something, it’s not a big deal.
Instead of heading straight home, Reki decides to stop by Shadow’s flower shop to only grab a bouquet for his mom and definitely not as an attempt to get some advice from an immature adult that has the capacity to be mature every once in a blue moon. A skating adult pretty similar to Oka.
“Hi~ Welcome to—” the cheery greeting faded almost immediately and was replaced with a bland “oh it’s just you.”
“Rude, I’m a paying customer,” Reki glares at the man as nears the counter.
“Flowers for your boyfriend?”
Reki’s heart skipped a beat and face turned as red as his hair at the comment. He’s assuming Shadow meant Langa, but Langa isn’t his boyfriend. He doesn’t even like Langa like that. Langa is his friend, his best friend. (But why did his mind immediately jump to Langa in the first place?) They spend almost all their time with each other. At school, after school, at S, and when they’re not together physically, they’re constantly texting. That’s what best friends do. They constantly talk to and text each other. Like being around each other.
But there was a feeling. A super teensy tiny feeling he felt the first time he laid his eyes on Langa, when he was awkwardly introducing himself to the class, that was shoved into the closet of his mind not even a week later. Though perhaps that feeling wasn’t all too bad because that was what made Reki ‘accidentally’ lose his board so he can run into Langa and introduce him to skateboarding. That feeling allowed them to be friends but that’s the extent that it was allowed to go. Any more and it would’ve done more harm than good. That’s why he stuffed it away.
“W-what boyfriend?”
“It’s just us here, it's fine. I’m not homophobic or anything,” Shadow shrugs.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Reki insists, heart thumping faster than he thought was humanly possible.
“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal for—- wait,” the man stops mid sentence and raises as eyebrows as his eyes bore into the red blob that was Reki Kyan. “Are you fucking serious? After all of that, you guys aren’t even dating?”
“After all of what?” Reki’s brain was scrambling. Had he been completely oblivious and confusing romantic feelings for platonic? No, no. He’s smarter than that. Reki was smarter than that; he had common sense. He would know. He would, he would.
“Okay,” Shadow sighs deeply before stepping from the counter and deeper into the store, waving his hand to tell Reki to follow suit. “I guess it’s time to go into big brother mode.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Who are you, Joe?”
“What?! Why would you even call me that— ah, actually who cares. If he asked you that too then that’s how obvious it is.”
“Still clueless,” Reki comments. He’s not. He’s so totally not. He’s just protecting his own feelings by not getting his hopes up. If it turns out that he actually has romantic feelings for Langa, he wouldn’t really be surprised anymore. But why would someone as cool and sweet as Langa like someone like Reki?
“I know you’re not, don’t bother trying to play dumb to get out of this,” Shadow’s voice is stern but not in a threatening way— in a caring way. That’s new.
Silence; Reki doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t.
“So spill it,” the abnormally-buff-for-a-florist man continues, angry.
“Okay so maybe I might hypothetically like Langa a bit,” Reki finally says through gritted teeth. Fuck it, might as well just get this over with so he can go sulk in bed later tonight. He’ll stuff the feelings back into the closet and triple lock it tomorrow morning but for now… for now, he’ll just let them breathe for a bit.
“And?”
“And what? There’s nothing left to say,” Reki frowns, reaching out to tug at a dead flower petal. There’s only silence filling the store and he almost groans loudly; this was also Joe’s method. “Langa doesn’t like me.”
All Shadow does is scoff.
“What, it’s true. He’s too pretty to not be straight. He deserves a pretty girlfriend as well.”
“Get your head out of the gutter,” Shadow finally says. “He’s down so bad for you.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Why do you think he got all quiet when you told him someone confessed to you?”
“Fuck if I know!” Reki shouts, “he’s hard to read sometimes and— WAIT how do you know?”
The words ‘Oh Shit’ pass through Shadows face as he contemplates, trying to figure out a good excuse.
“That is not the point, Reki Kyan,” he huffs. “The point is that he likes you so just go talk to him before this blows out of proportion.”
“It won’t, me confessing will blow it out of proportion.”
Shadow sends him the look, saying all he wants with his eyes, and drops the conversation.
“You said you were here for flowers?”
“Yeah man, for my mom.”
“Sure, what kind of flowers does she like?”
Reki waits at their spot the next day— Valentine’s Day— just to realize that he is once again going to be skating to school alone. He could ditch, he was thinking about it yesterday, but something in his gut told him that he shouldn’t. He had this feeling that something eventful was going to happen today, like a grand confession of sorts.
He arrives in class just before the bell rings to find a bouquet of flowers placed neatly on his petal-littered desk and no Langa. Oh, and a tiny card with the printed words ‘come to the roof after lunch‘.
What was this, some kind of sick joke that everyone decided they wanted to play on him because someone found out he only received one confession in his entire life? Was he going to get bombarded on by that group of popular kids who apparently have nothing better to do than put down other people?
The entrance to his usual spot on the roof is locked for some apparent reason so he heads over to the bleachers by the soccer field for lunch. Reki probably checks his phone a total of a hundred times to no avail. The ‘read’ stamp isn’t even there. He’s so damn tempted to call , but would Langa even pick up?
He’ll stop by after school, he swears. He’ll wait outside for Ms. Hasegawa to return home from work too if it comes down to that.
Not to sound selfish, but he really needs Langa’s advice regarding the flowers and note from this morning. Should he go? It’s set for after lunch, which is during class time. It’d be such a pain if he got caught and his parents were dragged to the office. He sighs, mindlessly watching the other students kick the ball around until the bell rings.
Now he has to make a choice.
After much consideration, he finds himself staring at the metal door that was locked thirty minutes ago. Just as he reaches for the bar to try to push it open, he hears footsteps behind him and whips his head so fast it could’ve snapped.
He finds himself looking at the last person he’d think he’d see; it’s Langa. His best friend, the one he’s been so anxious and concerned about the past few days.
“Reki,” Langa greets and he almost melts at the sound. He’s forgotten what Lana sounds like and how soft spoken he is, especially when he says his name.
“Hey dude,” the redhead lamely manages, heart thumping like he just ran a marathon. “It’s been a while.” Cringe .
“Yeah,” Langa nibbles at his lower lip a bit, looking nervous. “Sorry for ignoring you.”
“It’s all good man; are you all good? You seem worried.”
“Ah, yeah I am, a bit, actually,” he mumbles on, somehow even more quietly.
“What are you doing here?”
The anticipation is driving Reki nuts. He’s jumping to conclusions, specifically the conclusion that Langa might’ve been the one that left him the flowers and the note. But that’s such a dangerous thought; he doesn’t want to be sorely disappointed when it turns out this is all a coincidence. An accident.
However, instead of replying, Langa steps forward and tugs Reki’s headband down so it covers his eyes.
“Hey, dude. Now’s not really the time for that,” he almost laughs. This is so un-Langa-like but at the same time screams Langa. His heart clenches a bit as he reaches for the headband but feels cool, bony fingers grip his wrists.
“Trust me?”
“O-okay.”
He hears the door creek open, the light flooding through his makeshift blindfold, and the air rushing in but has no time to adjust because he’s suddenly being pulled forward. He stumbles, almost falling because he completely forgot about that last mini step but feels Langa’s arms wrap around him delicately.
“Stay,” Langa says, slowly letting go of him and Reki misses his arms already. “Okay.”
Okay what?
Langa repeats “okay” again and Reki startles a bit because he suddenly realizes and pulls his headband down so it rests loosely around his neck. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when it does, he’s startled and takes a step back.
Langa’s standing in front of him (obviously) with a large poster that says “Will you be my skating-tine’s?” in blocky letters and little skateboards decorating the border. By his feet is a bouquet of flowers, a large box of chocolates, and two candles (presumably to set the mood… but it’s the middle of the day).
Skating-tine? What the hell is that? Was there some trend that he missed? That’s impossible; he’s always on top of it, especially if it has anything to do with skating. And in this case, it’s a skating lingo but he doesn’t know or understand it.
They both stand for a moment in (very awkward) silence before it clicks in Reki’s head. “Skating-tine’s” is just an insanely bad pun.
Wait…
Does that mean Langa is asking—
“Langa—”
“Reki,” Langa cuts him off. “Reki Kyan, w-will you be my valen– valentine?”
He sounds so nervous, so scared. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. Langa looks like a little puppy and he’s adorable. Reki bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach, while Langa stands idly.
After Reki calms down a bit, he finally approaches his friend and smiles. He can see Langa shaking a bit too; he just keeps getting cuter and cuter.
Reki reaches for Langa’s hands and pushes them down to lower the poster. “No, but I will be your skating-tine’s .”
Langa’s lips stop quivering and turn into a lopsided smile. “Really?”
Reki’s laughter returns. “Really.”
The poster drops and Langa immediately launches himself into Reki’s open arms, just like after that one race, except he doesn’t fall this time. Reki steadies himself and tightly returns the hug, half burying his face into the crook of Langa’s neck and taking in his smell.
“Hey,” Reki finally says after they’ve been hugging longer than what was considered a ‘long’ hug. “We should probably get back to class.”
“Dom’t wammna,” Lana mutters against his hoodie.
“Are you sure? There’s a bunch of girls waiting to confess to you,” Reki teases.
At this, Langa pulls his head away so Reki can see him scrunch his brows and pout, “I don’t care about them.”
“I dunno man, I think they’re— fire”
“F-fire? You think they’re fire?” Langa frowns, confused.
“No,” Reki pushes Langa away against his will and turns his attention to the fallen candles. “Fire.”
“Oh no.” Langa probably genuinely means it, but the lack of emotions in those words has Reki bursting into laughter yet again as he moves to stomp the fire off the corner of the paper. “Oh no, the paper. It’s not funny, Reki.”
“Sorry Langa, I’m not laughing about the paper I swear,” Reki says in between laughs.
“It’s ruined,” Langa huffs as he blows out the candles and picks up the poster.
“No it’s not,” Reki squats down to where Langa is.
“It is,” he insists. “I wanted you to take it home and keep it as a memory.”
“Oh I’m keeping it,” Reki grins, the reality now finally setting down.
“You’ll really keep it?” Langa asks, large blue innocent puppy eyes now sparking in the sunlight as he looks into Reki’s plain brown ones.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He’s almost offended that Langa would even for a moment think that he’ll toss something that important.
“It’s not perfect anymore,” the blue haired boy buries his face into his hands. “Why would you keep something not perfect?”
“Hey,” Reki pries the hands covering his friend’s pretty face. “It’s perfect to me. The burn marks make it look cooler, too.” Langa looks up, unsure and sad, so Reki does the first thing that he could think of: he cups his face with his hands, squishing cheeks together. He knows this is more than just the poster, so he takes a moment to choose his next words. “Nothing’s perfect and if it was, it would be boring, don’t you think? Like imagine being perfect at skating. You’d nail all your tricks and win every race and never fall.”
“That sounds nice. Why wouldn’t you want that?”
“Would you have any fun if you always won without trying and have nothing else to learn about skating?”
“… no.”
“Exactly! Perfect is stupid, then.” Reki squeezes his cheeks a bit more, “right?”
Langa merely nods, seemingly still soaking in the conversation.
“So I’m keeping it… and I’m keeping you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah dude,” he inhales deeply before continuing, “because I like you. I wouldn’t want to be your skating-tine’s if I didn’t.”
Langa reaches up to pry the hands off his cheeks and intertwine them with his, “I like you too.”
“Cool, cool, cool cool cool, cool,” Reki had sort of expected that, but hearing him actually say it was something he wasn't completely prepared for.
They’re skating home together when Langa abruptly stops and pulls Reki to an unexpected halt just to ask:
“Are we dating now?”
Reki huffs and puffs as he sprints— yes, sprinting with his legs and not skating at a dangerous speed on his board— to Dope Sketch. He had suddenly remembered that talk with Oka from weeks ago and that Oka had advice for him that he stubbornly refused to spill. Perhaps now that the my-brain-is-trying-to-sabotage-me situation is resolved, his manager would actually tell him something that probably would’ve sped up the process.
“OKA!” He slams the door open violently, startling said manager, a regular customer, and Langa who was currently on shift.
“I’m sorry, we have the right to refuse service to anyone,” Oka smirks, commanding Sketchy to go all guard dog mode on him.
Reki exhales a deep breath, swinging the door shut and sweeping the troublemaker of a fox into his arms before heading deeper into the store. Langa looks at him warily, stoic as always but there’s a new softness in his eyes and the smallest hint of a smile. He waits for the customer to be rung up and calls out a farewell before turning back to the manager.
“You.” Reki does his best to give him a glare.
“You shouldn’t be so mean to other people in front of your boyfriend . That leaves a bad impression.”
Boyfriend…?
“H-how’d you know?”
“Sorry, was he not supposed to know?” Langa appears beside Reki and lightly wraps an arm around his waist.
“Oh, nah it’s cool dude,” Reki flushes, feeling all the heat rush up to his face. God, his cheeks probably match his hair now.
“Frankly, I’m offended you didn’t tell me. I thought we were homies,” Oka clutches a hand to his chest.
Reki merely rolls his eyes and shifts closer to Langa. “What were you going to tell me?” They stand in silence for a while before Reki realizes how vague he was being: “remember when you had advice for me?”
“Oh that,” Oka assumes a fake deep-in-thought position. “I suppose now’s the time… My advice was that you should man up and confess because you were obviously in love.”
“That’s not very good advice,” he remarks, watching Langa’s reaction from his peripheral vision.
“Only because you wouldn’t have listened to me anyway.”
“You were going to confess?” Langa asks, awestruck.
“Well, uhhhm…” He sees Langa’s shoulders drop a bit and his brain quickly goes into overtime to try to alleviate the situation. “Not that I wouldn’t have,” Reki clarifies. “It’s just I was struggling because being around you made me all nervous and sweaty and anxious— in a good way, I swear!— and then when I look into your eyes—”
“Boys, listen,” Oka rudely interrupts. “I support you two wholeheartedly but for the love of all that is holy, please please have this conversation in a more intimate place than a skate shop .”
“R-right,” Reki manages lamely, now turning to look straight at Langa. “Meet you after?”
“Okay,” Langa says, red as a beet. Cute.
“Okay, see you,” Reki squeezes Langa’s hand before departing with nothing more than a quick wave to Oka.
On the way out, he hears Oka say “geez, you two are so awkward it’s giving me secondhand embarrassment.”