Archive of Our Own ^beta

Langa didn’t consider his apartment to be home, neon lights flashing from the buildings filling his horizon. The constant pace of a kick push he wasn’t familiar with. Even in the darkest of night, when his eyes were finally closed and the ache in his chest subsided, there was still a subtle amount of chattered that flew through his dreams. Empty dreams, nothing to display behind his lids but the cloak of darkness. A word he had become acquainted with when he decided to pursue a dream that never really felt like his own. It never felt truly as if he was living his own life, the enjoyment of skating, the bathing in sun rays. Hell, Tokyo didn’t receive much sun beyond the skyscrapers and moving bodies. One thing about Okinawa that he could say made him feel more at peace. 

Shuffling closer to the blanket wrapped around his arms, his head scrambled with empty, merciless thoughts that made his toes curl. The excitement, that unbeknownst thumping inside of his chest that circled his body when he placed his weight on a board no longer lingered through him. It was déjà vu all over again, the snowy slopes that crushed his legs and arms, and yet he didn’t feel a thing. Though he knew he was still fresh, at the prime of learning the ways around his partner, he knew the feeling of falling out of love with skating would soon be approaching. Exhaling deeply, Langa tossed his blanket to the side and reached for his closet. 

His hair had grown a lot more since he left Okinawa, no longer having the sound of his mother ushering him to the bathroom to trim his loose ends. Blue hair that once touched the bottom of his ears now touched the midst of his shoulders. Tucking away the loose strands into a loose ponytail, Langa dressed himself accordingly for this meeting. It was shortly after the bustling city was in full throttle, lights brighter and voices louder. Enough of a distraction to keep the community’s eye from their beloved pro skater that’ll be partaking in another rendezvous that would go in his book as a way to find that thump in his chest again. 

The male was sweet, eyes shined with the brightest forest green he’s ever seen. Flicks of grass and cut wood flickered through his eyes when he gazed at Langa. There was the smallest shine in one of his teeth, black hair silky and caressing his features. Langa could admire the roundness of his cheeks, the sharpness of his eyes and the airiness of his laughter, but it didn’t go anything further than that. He was sweet, he deserve to be treated as such. Langa’s not a monster. He’s a respectful human that had a few fuck ups, but that’s what life consist of. Good times and horrible fuck ups. 

Shoving the ponytail into a cap, Langa tightened the leather jacket around his arms and walked out his apartment without a second thought. The volume of the chattering increase by tenfold as Langa slid on a pair of headphones and descending down the lobby. It was easier to keep low profile in a city that bustle and moved just like the ones back in the states. There weren’t many Canadian cities with at least a tenth of the foot track Tokyo had, but now it came in handy as he found himself down a path that painted itself into his memories. 

With his sneakers scuffing the ground, the thoughts of his father’s voice trailed through his head. Asking him in such a goofy manner what could he be possibly be doing. A smile bright and ash gray hair flicking through the windy air. A pressured palm on his shoulder, grounding him as he waited for his son to speak. The hollowness grew deeper the more he grew closer to the love hotel. The brilliant, outrageous sign of a pair of legs and words spilling out of the champagne glass. Seedy? not exactly but completely discreet in an alleyway like this. Pulling the mask closer to his face, Langa surveyed the area before meeting the sight of his companion for the night. 

“Hey, hase. Didn’t think you’d make it,” His voice filled with enough joy for the both of them which inevitably made Langa’s skin crawl. 

“I was caught up in taking care of something.”

“No worries, I already have a room for us,” The flashing of a magenta card caught his eye, forgetting what this entire ordeal was about. Schooling his expression, Langa nodded and followed behind the other male. 

He could barely hear him over the music still playing through his headphones, an old classic rock song his father played whenever his mother forced him into a day of chores. That cheerful grin and a wink at the woman always had her flustered but wrapping her arms around him in thanking. Langa yearned see that moment again, wishing that some scientist in the world could invent a time machine. Just to go back to simpler times. Waking up and smelling breakfast, the freezing air biting his fingertips and toes, the genuine laughter that came from his mother. 

Langa hadn’t realize they were in the room until a pair of warm hands were caressed over his shirt, tucking themselves at the collar before running over to his head to remove his disguise. Allowing the hair to fall to his chest, Langa kept up the momentum with initiating his own touches. Keeping them as languid as he could even with his body so frigid. Had it grown cold or was it just his own body? Tucking that away, there was a shift in the atmosphere as their clothes were beginning to crumple and subside over to the furniture near the window. Langa swore his lips tasted of green tea mochi and strawberries, an odd combination that brought a wave of nostalgia down his spine. 

It felt wrong, almost horrible in a sense. The faint trailing of fingertips over his bare back. The whimpers fluttering through the air. The closer Langa got towards him, the more his skin begin to curdle with goosebumps and his stomach started to flip in disgust. Get out of your head, Langa’s hand trailed down to the male’s narrow hips before holding them tightly. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he remained still. Silence washed over the air as such hasty movements were halted. 

“Hase, you okay? You’re usually-“

“I have somewhere I need to be,” Langa admitted, to who? He didn’t know. There was no destination in mind. No place that was attainable, nothing that was within reach. 

Sliding his clothes back on, feeling the uncomfortable stare and fabric starting to engulf him in this small space. Langa gave a grunt of a farewell, not knowing how else to face this situation. His body pressed against the elevator walls, waiting for them to close and leave him to his own devices. He was harming the male. Just like he had harmed someone who meant the world to him. All of the stars and constellations that littered the sky like colorful glitter that touched the apples of his cheeks. Langa exhales deeply, not wanting to revel in those thoughts, knowing Langa no longer existed to him as he no longer existed to Langa. Tucking his hands into his pockets, Langa hoped the walk home wouldn’t be as self deprecating as the walk to the hotel. 

The ding felt like a gavel crashing through glass, ear piercing and short as Langa took his first step out before halting himself. Those eyes. Something about the way they sparkled like discovered ember under dirt and rocks. Like he spent his entire life searching for that one crystal buried underneath heaps and heaps of sand over kilometers of land. The sensation of gazing into them felt so unreal, but in a way that brought a notorious thump into his chest. Langa could feel his actual heart start beating, and not the usual dorment shudder he's grown used to.

The thumping grew louder, swallowing his ear drums as his fingers twitched and trembled at the sight of the person awaiting for the elevator. The sight of shorten red hair felt like a slap from reality, recognizing his boyish features growing and filling out more. His eyes were as wide as saucers, breath hitched in his chest as his hand held the door open to the elevator. Langa must’ve held the same expression, nothing but utter surprise filling the area. It couldn’t be him? Could it? After 5 years of not seeing each other, was this truly where they would meet again?

“Langa,” his name rolling off his tongue so easily it felt like a punch to the gut. A cruel beating from his past, “Langa, what are you-“

“Reki.”

Langa watched the sparkle move around the roundness of his irises, the twitching in his right cheek when he grew smaller and cowered into himself. There was a hot simmer that started to trail down his spine when he cocked his head and observed the grown man in front of him. No longer pushing back those luscious red strands from his face to view the furrow in his brows or the dainty freckles that were sprinkled over his brown skin. Tightening his lip between his teeth, Langa felt his ears become warm when he watched Reki recreate such a small, yet old habit that tugged endlessly at his innards. The small graze of a eye smile crossing his sharpen features felt like a wash of warm water over his freezing body. Okinawa sun melting away Canadian snow.

“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?” was the first question that slipped from his lips, causing Langa to tightened his hold on the bar in the elevator. 

“You left me that night. You never came back.”

“Langa, this isn’t the best place for us to talk about this-“

“I want to talk about it now.”

Langa watched the air leave the man’s chest, admiring the way his clothes were more fitted than they were when they were just troubling 17 year olds. Skating half pipes and surviving bone crushing tricks. He could see some of the scarring in his hands and wrists from old memories, but he still wore his pants leg in a funky way that Langa couldn’t help the small grin that crossed his lips briefly. Stepping out of the elevator, Langa followed behind him, watching consciously of his movements as they walked towards an empty bar. Safe from patrons, Reki took them to a corner and placed himself into a stool. 

He could see Reki wanted to dance around the situation. Even if he hadn’t notice from the first time he laid eyes on the male when his toe knocked into Reki’s board outside of that calligraphy shop, Langa came to know Reki. From the inside out. Every nook and cranny, he learned, memorized and stored away when the information was no longer needed. Reki fiddled with his thumbs, finding it would be easier when Langa would lightly poke at him when he took his nails between his teeth. He admired that even with years passed since they’ve seen each other. Langa couldn’t help but adore how the sun still gently kissed him with the darken freckles now painting his cheeks and neck. Shaking his head lightly, he knew he needed to remain out of that file he stored in his mind called “a million and one interesting facts i know about reki”.

“Don’t wanna’ sit down?”

“I want an answer.”

“Was I wrong for leaving you that night? Yes, I was, and it didn’t make it any better that I distanced myself from you. I just wasn’t thinking about how you felt. I just seen everyone and their obsession with Snow, and the whole thing with Adam just,”

“I told you how I felt about that race.”

“But you only thought about how you felt about the race. Langa, we were all worried,” Reki stuck strong with his side of the story.

“You weren’t even there to see me win,” Langa pressed his argument further, finding himself tossing the hat down on the table in front of him, “I only made it through that race knowing that you would be there, but you were nowhere to be found.”

“Langa, you realize how much danger you put yourself into when it came to racing against Adam. I couldn’t just stand there and just let you-“

“You keep telling me the same story over and over again, and you’re not even thinking about how I felt,” Langa found his voice becoming louder, immediately turning around to see the bartender typing away on their phone. Yet, Langa could tell their ears were perked up on their conversation by the way their eyes widen, “I had finally got that feeling back. Something I had been looking for so long. Skating meant everything to me because I knew if you were there, I could do anything.”

“But you did it without me so does it even matter now? Legendary Snow lives in Tokyo now. Our number one hero from little Okinawa. You think I mattered to anyone else? I accompanied you. It was Snow and the red head kid. I was a follow up to you, you do realize that?”

It was a mere thought. Not something Langa thought about often because he never seen Reki in that light. In the darkest moments of his room, when his eyes grew heavier, but the whispers were harsher and darker than he could imagine, he thought about it. Thought about how he never would be in this place without Reki. His intellects, his constant drive to want to improve and build everything around him. That crooked smile he loved seeing everyday whenever he came to the shorter with a broken wheel or even a scarp the size of his hand painting his pale skin. It was never a thought that Reki came after him, it was always before him.

“I didn’t mean to chase you away, Langa. Fuck, if I had the chance go back and change everything I said, I would. But, man, I can’t go back on the word I said 5 years ago. I was hurt, and I was tired of being in your shadow. I would never be seen as a good skater like you, so I got out of your way. Why allow a burden to continue being in your life?”

“Reki, what are you even talking about? You were never a burden to me. You’re one of the best skaters that I’ve met, and it’s not because you know all the tricks and can land them all without a second thought. You’re the best because you never stop. You keep going. You’ve got more determination than anyone I’ve known in my entire life.”

Langa could feel himself starting to get choked up, eyes welling up at the sight of Reki’s eyes widening in question. All the words he wanted to say to him, the essays he journaled out in his notes when he found himself traveling to events. Everything he’s been conjuring up for the past five years stuck in his throat. He clambered, nothing coming out but short pants and sighs that made him want to tug his hair out from his scalp. How dare Reki ever think he would ever be a burden to Langa when he’s been the best thing Langa’s had since he’s left Canada. Since the day his father said his last words on this planet, and yet Reki sat and talked about himself in such a negative light?

“Reki, you taught me something that brought me more than happiness,” Langa found himself breathing from the small pants from his mouth, “I knew it wasn’t the skating when I became pro, and I didn’t have that feeling my chest. It’s not about fucking skating anymore, it’s about you. It’ll always be about you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I-I don’t want to be at this love hotel anymore! I’m tired of coming here thinking that I can get that feeling back. Hoping that if-if I lay with someone, it’ll remind me of the life that I wished I had with you! S-seeing you feels like I could finally fucking breathe again. Kyan Reki, I missed you so much,” Langa exhaled deeply, patting his cheeks to ease his words out. 

“You won’t ever understand how much you mean to me. I never want you to go again, not like that. I don’t want my heart to break again knowing that something as small as a grown man with a bad streak took me from my haven. I want to go back to when we would skate and bruise and cut ourselves while laughing. Eating gas station ramen while breaking curfew. Reki, I just want everything you want. Just don’t leave me again.”

There was that stunned expression that Reki always displayed when he didn’t believe reality. The subconscious check with himself and his surroundings, to make sure he was breathing and this was no dream. Langa knew as he pressed the heel of his hand to his nose to stop it from running. His eyes were probably bloodshot from holding back tears that threaten to spill for years. The aching in his chest becoming so unbearable that the dam broke. Emotions spilling over as his head dropped, silent sobs hidden behind his lip being tucked between his teeth. Feeling warmth starting to encase him, Langa leaned into the embrace with his world shattering around him. But Reki was there to pick him up. To hold him up, and bandage him. When Langa was nothing but a fresh face to Okinawa. When he wasn’t famous skater Snow, fastest and most deliberate skater to come from Okinawa. It felt like being kissed by the sun again after not seeing it for months, even years.

Langa heard Reki’s muttered apologies in his ears, whispering sweet nothings he didn’t know his heart craved until this very moment. The words feeling almost like a giant gauze wrapping around a bleeding wound, pressing itself into place to help aid the healing process. Langa found himself tightening his grip around Reki, wishing and praying that if he’d never let go for even a moment, terrified that Reki would leave. Leave him again to wallow and try and fix everything that broke him. It felt almost like it was just another moment of heartbreak in Tokyo.

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere. You have me. I’m all yours. I’ll never leave again, you hear me? I’m always here. I’m sorry.”