Work Text:
To young hearts,
Keep beating,
Keep breaking,
Keep falling in love.- Dawn Lanuza
This is how it starts:
One of the girls from their class slips a note into Langa’s locker. She’s not the first one who’s done this, and he’s pretty sure she won’t be the last, even though Langa doesn’t entirely understand what they all see in him.
The note is pretty standard, asking if he wants to go on a date with her; yes, no, maybe?
Langa supposes she’s pretty enough, and nice, but, well. He’s not really interested. He’s not really interested in any of them. So he’ll do what he always does and tell her thank you, but no thank you. He’s already dreading the awkwardness of that conversation.
As they ride to the skatepark on their boards after school, Reki keeps going on about it. Langa doesn’t really understand that either, why Reki is so very fixated on the topic of girls, and especially the combination of girls and Langa. But he doesn’t stop Reki, because even if he doesn’t understand it, he likes hearing Reki talk. The topic doesn’t really matter.
When they take a break a while later, plopping down onto the concrete ground at the edge of the empty skatepark and rooting around in their backpacks for snacks, Reki is still going on about it.
“I can’t believe all of them are so into you,” Reki whines. “It’s unfair, really. The girls can’t get enough of you. It’s like you’re magic or something.”
Langa blushes and looks at his feet, fingers fidgeting with his bag of chips, making the package crinkle. “I don’t think I am,” he mumbles, but he feels warm and strangely pleased. “And anyway, I’m not interested in any of them.”
Reki hums. He takes a gulp out of his soda bottle, and Langa watches the way his throat bobs as he drinks.
“I guess if I was as experienced as you are, I wouldn’t be interested in them either,” Reki says thoughtfully once he’s done.
Lange is too enraptured in the movement of Reki’s tongue licking errant drops of his drink from his lips to register his words immediately. When he does, he furrows his brows in confusion.
“Huh? What do you mean?” he asks, and he knows he can be a bit slow sometimes, but this time it’s definitely Reki’s fault for not making any sense.
Reki leans back on his hands, tilting his head to the side. “I just mean, you’ve probably been with so many girls, you can afford to be picky, you know? You don’t need to say yes to the first girl who asks you out just to say you’ve gone out with a girl. And anyway, I bet it’s boring to be with someone who’s inexperienced when you aren’t, huh?”
For a few seconds, Langa doen’t say anything. He blinks at Reki slowly, unsure he understood him correctly, once again wondering whether his Japanese is a lot worse than he thought, suddenly worried he’ll fail all his classes because what Reki’s saying doesn’t make any sense , and if he can’t understand his best friend, how the hell is he going to analyze classic Japanese literature without completely fucking up?
“I’m… not, though,” he finally says, hesitant, because he’s still not sure he got this right.
“Huh?” Reki asks. He’s eating again, his cheeks bulging adorably around his food.
“I’m not… experienced.” The word sounds strange to him, feels unfamiliar in his mouth. Experienced . It makes him blush again. “I’ve never dated anyone.”
It’s almost funny, the way Reki’s eyes widen, nearly bulging out of his head. He splutters, food crumbs going flying. Langa isn’t sure whether to find it endearing or gross.
“Wait, seriously?” Reki exclaims. When Langa nods, Reki scratches the back of his head, suddenly bashful. “Wow, I really thought you must have dated a bunch of people, with how popular you are! But I guess I never asked you about it, huh? Shouldn’t have assumed, I guess. Sorry about that, man.”
“It’s fine,” Langa says. It really is, he isn’t particularly bothered about Reki assuming he’s gotten around. Almost feels a little flattered about it, to be honest, that Reki thinks he’s charming enough to have gone on dates successfully in the past, even though Reki should really know by now that Langa isn’t great with people at the best of times.
“How come you’ve never dated anyone, though?” Reki peers at him curiously. “I mean, a lot of people are interested in you.”
Langa shrugs. He’s very warm, suddenly, and plugs at the bottom of his shirt, hoping to get some air circulating under the fabric. “Don’t know. Just not interested, I guess.”
Reki hums, considering. “So… have you ever kissed anyone before?”
“No.” Langa considers looking away from Reki, because talking about kissing feels intimate, and even more so with the way Reki is looking at him so intently. In the end he doesn’t, though. He doesn’t know why. Maybe because he likes looking at Reki more than he is embarrassed. “I’ve never done it.”
“Me neither,” Reki says with a dramatic sigh.
“I know.”
“Hey! You can’t just say that!” Reki exclaims, elbowing Langa in the side. Now he’s the one blushing, seeming embarrassed, though honestly, Langa doesn’t entirely understand why. It’s not like it’s a secret that Reki has never kissed anyone. He’s whining about it constantly.
They scuffle briefly, laughing quietly as Langa tries to stop Reki from elbowing him again. Then, silence settles between them. A breeze blows over the asphalt, rustling through the trees behind them, pleasantly warm summer air ruffling Langa’s hair.
Finally, Reki sighs, and slumps against Langa’s shoulder. “I’d really like to, though. Kiss someone, I mean.”
Langa considers this for a moment. He has to admit, he’s curious about it as well. All the movies do make it seem kind of… nice. He hums in agreement, and Reki goes on, his weight falling further against Langa’s body, head resting on his shoulder.
“Ugh, I bet it must feel so good to kiss someone. I wish I could do it. But it’s so scary to ask people out, and I’m not really into any of the girls at school, you know? Even though I am a little jealous they’re all into you.”
Reki sounds a little sheepish as he admits this, and Langa decides not to tease him for it. He thinks he gets where Reki is coming from, anyway. And he feels similarly, sort of. At least about the kissing. He wants to know what it feels like, but no one’s really caught his attention yet. There hasn’t been anyone he’s looked at and thought, I want to kiss this person . It’s more of an abstract want.
And anyway, he doesn’t think he could kiss someone he doesn’t trust, and even though he’s been here for months now, he hasn’t made many friends besides Reki. The truth is, there is simply no one else he trusts that much, and–
Wait.
Huh.
“Reki,” Langa says, an idea forming in his head. He likes it, he thinks. It feels good as it’s taking shape, as he gives it consideration. Makes his chest tingle strangely, pleasantly. Makes the curiosity a lot more concrete than it had been just moments before.
“Huh?” Reki sits up again, turns towards Langa. His gaze is very intent, his attention undivided. It makes Langa feel important.
“We could kiss.”
Reki blinks at him. Stares. “What?”
Langa shrugs, doesn’t let himself be deterred. “We could try it out. To see what it’s like. Since we both want to know.”
For a moment that seems very long, Reki just looks at him, silent. Thinking, probably. Then, a slow grin grows on his lips, and though a blush is spreading on his cheeks, he also starts nodding enthusiastically. It makes him look way too cute.
“That’s brilliant, Langa! God, you’re so smart. We should definitely kiss!”
A strange sort of pride settles in Langa’s chest at Reki’s enthusiasm. He likes it when Reki likes his ideas; it makes him feel appreciated.
Reki leans in, the space between them shrinking. “Do you want to do it now?”
He seems very excited by the idea, something energetic buzzing under his skin, showing in the bouncing of his foot, the swaying of his body. Langa considers his question for a moment, and finds that he feels it too - something inside of him coming awake, making him jittery.
He wants to kiss Reki, and he wants to do it now.
“Yes. Let’s do it,” Langa says, nodding, smiling.
Reki nods back, smiles too. He shuffles closer to Langa, and Langa turns towards him. Their knees bump, legs pressing together on the ground, and then they reach for each other. Slow, tentative. Careful, Langa leans in, eyes dropping down to Reki’s mouth, and then they’re too close to keep looking at each other, and Langa closes his eyes just in time for their lips to touch.
It’s nice.
Langa shivers as Reki kisses him, or he kisses Reki, or they kiss each other, because Reki was right: It really is nice. It’s just Reki’s lips pressed against his, soft and plush and warm, slightly open. Nothing all that adventurous about it, really, but it makes him feel all warm and tingly anyway.
Reki tilts his head, hesitant, and moves his mouth a little. That feels good too, so Langa does the same, and then their lips are slotting together differently than before, and that’s even better. A little wet, too, even though there’s no tongue involved.
Langa has one hand on the side of Reki’s face, and he doesn’t quite know how it ended up there. As he pushes slowly, so slowly, against Reki, the movement languid, savouring it, he lets his fingers stroke over Reki’s cheek. His skin is soft, just as soft as his lips are. There’s some faint fuzz where his body is trying and failing to grow a beard. Langa feels the barely-there hairs with his fingertips and imagines Reki with a beard. The thought makes him laugh a little, breathless, makes his grin go so wide it becomes impossible to keep kissing Reki and they have to break apart.
Reki pulls back a little, frowning. His face is very red, warm beneath Langa’s touch. His lips are even redder.
“Are you alright?” Reki asks, concerned. “Was that all right?”
The hint of self-consciousness in his voice makes Langa pull him closer on instinct. He wants to take that sound out of Reki’s voice, wants him to know that everything he’s been doing has been great, that it has Langa’s stomach swooping with happy butterflies.
“Yes, it’s good,” Langa says, his voice shaking a little. He can’t stop smiling, and he doesn’t know why. This just feels so nice . “You’re good. Let’s do it again.”
Reki nods, eager, his lids drooping and heavy as he lets himself be drawn forward, swaying against Langa as if drawn in by an invisible force. “Yes, let’s,” he mumbles, and kisses Langa again, more confidently than the first time.
Langa puts his other hand on Reki’s neck, playing with the strands of hair sticking to his nape, and kisses Reki back.
They keep going like that for what feels like hours. Langa loses track of time quickly, consumed by the press of Reki’s lips on his. At one point, Reki’s hands find their way to Langa’s crossed legs, settling on his upper thighs as he leans in again and again and again, coming back for more every time they break apart.
It’s slow and soft and lazy, and unexpectedly perfect. It’s mild summer warmth, and a gentle breeze rustling through bright green leaves, and sun-flecked asphalt, and the sweet taste of fizzing sodas, and festival fireworks, and the elated somersaulting of his heart when he skates. All things good and happy and sparkling, somehow mixed up into one big emotion inside Langa’s chest, put there by nothing more than Reki and their endless kisses.
If kissing always feels like this, Langa understands why everyone is always making such a fuss about it. It’s actually pretty damn amazing.
When they finally stop for good, both of them are breathless and flushed. Reki looks adorably ruffled, and Langa kind of wants to pull him in and start kissing him again. But he doesn’t, and reaches for his soda instead, because his throat is dry and he’s much thirstier than he thought.
“That was so nice,” Reki says dreamily, grinning at him, the force of it almost blinding.
Langa flushes deeper at the praise, something pleased coiling in his chest, making his body feel light, like he might float away if he’s not careful.
“I don’t get why only people who date get to do this,” Reki continues. He stretches his arms up over his head, then lets himself flop to his back on the ground, throwing out his legs until he’s lying there like a starfish. “Friends should get to kiss too. It feels so nice, it’s unfair to only keep it romantic.”
Langa hums in agreement. Reki is right, it does feel nice, and the thought of not getting to do it again until he might someday date someone is strangely upsetting.
“We should do it again,” he suggests, not even taking the time to think over the words. They just spill out, and Langa finds he doesn’t want to take them back because he means them.
Reki beams up at him from his position on the floor. His lips are shining, and Langa’s stomach flips.
“Yes,” Reki exclaims, and Langa doesn’t doubt for a second that he means it, too. “We definitely should.”
***
This is how it continues:
They steal kisses during quiet moments, sequestered away behind closed doors, or in secluded parks and alleys.
Langa is lying on his back in his bed, Reki leaning over him, and they kiss languidly while the summer air dances through the open window, until they’re both flushed and sweating from the heat or the feeling of their lips touching.
They sit next to each other below a bridge, clutching their boards in their laps, and Reki pulls Langa in to press a quick peck to his lips, just because. The taste of it stays with Langa for hours.
Reki asks for a kiss when they say goodbye after a night out at S, the night dark around them except for the streetlamp throwing a yellow splash of light onto the pavement right beside them. Cicadas chirp in the grass by the road and Langa tells Reki yes, and then they’re kissing, soft drag of lips and hesitant swipe of tongues.
When they’re studying for an upcoming test, Langa gets bored and suggests kissing as a distraction. Reki agrees, and they spend the afternoon engaging in a much more enjoyable pastime than reviewing their notes.
This is how it continues, all summer long, the both of them kissing whenever they feel like it, whenever one of them asks and the other doesn’t even consider saying no. It feels just as nice as their first kiss every single time. Maybe even nicer, because they know what they’re doing now, and they’re getting better at it, more comfortable.
Langa spends his summer kissing Reki, and he loves it, and he kind of wants to kiss Reki all the time, forever.
***
This is how it ends:
Somehow, they have found themselves in Cherry’s garden. Langa didn’t even know Cherry had a garden before today – the concept of him living in a house like a normal person never really occurred to Langa before, and honestly, it kind of freaks him out in a way he can’t explain.
Joe is manning the barbeque, providing them all with food as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, and Miya has his feet stuck into a little inflatable pool, playing away at his console while Shadow and Oka are engaged in a conversation that seems surprisingly enthusiastic from both sides. It’s nice, the whole thing, a little garden party for their mismatched group of friends that Langa still can’t quite believe he found but wouldn’t exchange for the world. Even Joe and Cherry’s constant bickering fills him with a warm happiness, and he smiles as he takes a sip of his soda.
“It’s so warm ,” Reki whines next to him, slumped against Langa’s shoulder. “I think I’m gonna get ice cream. Do you want some too?”
Ice cream sounds absolutely heavenly right now. Langa nods, jostling Reki’s body with his movement. “Yes, please.”
“Cool,” Reki mumbles and sits up, stretching his arms over his head. He looks at Langa, tilts his head to the side, and smiles softly. “Can I get a kiss?”
Warmth spreads across Langa’s face, his lips stretching into a helpless grin. “Sure,” he says, and leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to Reki’s smiling mouth.
When he draws back, Reki beams at him, says “Thanks,” like Langa did him a favour, and bounds off into the house to raid Cherry’s freezer for ice cream. Langa stares after him, his chest doing funny little flips that he doesn’t entirely understand but likes very much.
“What was that?”
Langa turns, and finds Cherry looking at him, both of his brows raised so high they nearly disappear into his hairline. He hadn’t even realized Cherry had gotten back into his parasol-protected cot after his most recent trip to survey Joe’s barbecuing, too distracted by Reki and his proximity and the taste of his lips to pay attention to the others. Now that he’s faced with Cherry’s curiosity, he realizes he has no idea what’s going on.
“What was what?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too confused and knowing he absolutely does.
Cherry’s eyebrows seem to rise impossibly higher on his forehead. It’s really quite impressive. “Did you and Reki just kiss?”
“Oh. Yes.”
For a long moment, Cherry looks at him expectantly. Langa doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, and looks back. When the silence between them has stretched on for long enough that even Langa thinks it’s starting to get a little uncomfortable, Cherry sighs deeply. He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s gathering strength, before sitting up straighter, tucking the hairs that have escaped from his bun behind his ear, suddenly all business.
“So you’re dating now?” he asks, and he sounds a little pained about having to ask at all, maybe because he doesn’t actually want to talk about it, or because he expected Langa to volunteer this information. “I guess that means that Kojiro was right after all. I thought it would take longer.”
The thing is, though, Langa still doesn’t really understand where Cherry is going with this, because…
“Reki and I aren’t dating.”
Cherry stops. Stares. Langa stares back.
“Huh?”
“Reki and I aren’t dating,” Langa repeats, not letting himself be rattled by Cherry’s sudden lack of eloquence. “We just kiss sometimes, that’s all.”
More seconds pass. Cherry stares at him silently, and it’s starting to unnerve Langa a little bit; having Cherry’s undivided attention on him is sort of scary. He wonders where Reki is, wishes he’d come back and make this situation less strange.
Then, to his complete surprise, Cherry barks out a peal of laughter.
The sound comes out so abruptly it makes Langa jump, and he tilts his head in confusion, more than unsettled by this unexpected turn of events.
“What’s going on?” he asks, feeling a little stupid, like he’s missing some important part of this conversation.
Cherry shakes his head, waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, no, I’m not opening that can of worms,” he says, and stands from his seat. “You can figure that one out for yourselves.”
Then he takes off in Joe’s direction, muttering under his breath about teenagers and shouldn’t have asked and they’re worse than me and Kojiro, fucking hell .
Langa looks after him, and doesn’t understand a thing.
***
The conversation sticks with him, though. It sticks with him all throughout the evening; when Reki comes back with ice cream for both of them, when Joe brings them all food later, when Shadow and Miya almost overturn the dinner table.
Even as he lies in his bed that night, hours later, he can’t get Cherry’s words out of his head. He can’t stop thinking about what Cherry said, about him and Reki and dating. He’s never really considered the possibility before, but now that he has, it won’t go away.
He stares up at his ceiling, the room dark around him, and it dawns on him, very slowly, that he might be an idiot. Or, well. A bigger idiot than previously thought.
He turns over memories of the past few months; every kiss he’s shared with Reki, seared into his brain forever, every minute they spend together, laughing and talking and skating. Every touch, every glance. The warm happiness making his stomach flutter when he’s with Reki. The fuzzy feeling in his chest when their hands brush, the way his heart flips over when their lips meet.
He can’t believe he didn’t realize before that he likes Reki.
It seems like such a huge oversight, and like such an obvious thing, now that it has occurred to him, the scales suddenly falling from his eyes and leaving him unable to turn away from his undeniable truth:
He likes Reki. Romantically .
He’s pretty sure he’s in love with Reki.
And there’s absolutely no way he’ll ever be able to pretend he doesn’t, now that he knows.
With a sigh, Langa turns over, burying his face in his pillow. The fabric soothes the heat on his face, and he clutches it close, his inside twisting at his sudden realization. It makes him nervous, to be forced to face his own ignorance. To have to consider what to do with this revelation.
Most people, he knows, would probably continue to ignore it. All the movies he’s seen have taught him that what people do when they have a crush is to hide it. So, logically, Langa knows he could just keep this to himself, pretend nothing has changed, and continue the way things are.
The thing is, though, that he doesn’t want that.
He can’t even entertain the idea of not telling Reki, even though the feelings tumbling around behind his ribcage feel so new now that he’s putting a different name to them. It occurs to him that they’re not actually new, that he’s been feeling them for months – he just never looked at them closely enough to realize what they were. But now he has, now he knows, and…
Reki is his best friend. His best friend who he’s in love with. Langa trusts him more than anyone else on the entire planet. And he wants Reki to know , wants to tell Rei about this enormous emotion sitting in his chest. Wants to share it with him. He wants to share everything with Reki, every part of his life, every aspect of himself. No matter how stupid, impulsive, embarrassing it might be, he wants to tell Reki how he feels. He wants to give Reki a piece of that glowing happiness inside him.
Even if it turns out that Reki doesn’t want it.
***
The words almost spill from Langa’s mouth as soon as he sees Reki the next day, but he clamps his lips shut and manages to keep himself in check as they skate to school together. He’s brimming with the urge to spill his secret, and has to bite his tongue every time he looks at Reki to keep it in just a little longer.
By the time school is over, Langa’s stomach is somersaulting with excited nerves. He’s so distracted by the confession waiting to be said that he loses the race against Reki to the skatepark, something that hasn’t happened in months .
“Yo, what’s up with you?” Reki asks when Langa skids to a halt next to him, frowning at him with concern. “You’re usually a lot faster.”
Langa shrugs, his cheeks heating up at the way Reki looks at him. This is the moment. Reki has given him the perfect excuse to explain his feelings. But suddenly, the words stick to the roof of his mouth, feeling unwieldy on his tongue, and he finds that he can’t get them out with the ease he thought he could.
Reki’s frown deepens, and he takes a step close, his hand rising as if to take Langa’s temperature, like he’s scared Langa might be sick. “Dude, are you alright?”
Langa takes a deep breath. He can do this. He can do this.
“Yes, I am,” he says, nodding, and then, before he can lose his nerve: “I want to kiss you.”
Even though he’s said it countless times, it still feels exhilarating to say it now. Langa’s heart is thundering in his chest as he waits for Reki to respond, his palms sweating.
“Okay…?” Reki says, slow and hesitant, like he doesn’t quite understand why Langa is so ruffled. “Sure.”
He leans forward the way he’s done a hundred times, and his lips feel as soft and perfect against Langa’s as they always do. When he pulls back, Reki is smiling, a small, private thing.
“Was that what had you so distracted the whole day?” Reki asks, teasing. Langa’s heart skips a beat; he hadn’t even realized that Reki had noticed how tense he was. “Did you just want a kiss?”
Langa nods. “I really wanted a kiss.” His throat feels tight, and he swallows. “But not just today. Every day.”
Reki tilts his head, some of that confusion back. “That’s okay. You can just ask if you want me to kiss you.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Langa shakes his head, frustrated at his inability to properly articulate what he wants to say. He runs his hand through his hair, notices Reki’s eyes tracking the movement. “I want to kiss you all the time. And not… not just in a friends way. In a more-than-friends way.”
There it is. He’s said it. It’s almost anticlimactic; Langa imagined it would feel grander to say it out loud, but it really doesn’t. It’s just a handful of words, not all that different from all the other words he’s ever said, except they’re somehow a lot more vulnerable, and he has no idea what’s going to happen now that he’s given life to them.
For a long moment, Reki stares at him, and is very quiet. Langa’s heartbeat echoes loudly in his ears, filling the silence, drowning out the rustling of leaves in the wind and the faint rushing of the ocean. He feels suddenly like time is standing still.
Then, very slowly, a smile spreads on Reki’s lips. It’s one Langa hasn’t seen before, somehow both softer and brighter than all of Reki’s other smiles. It makes his chest feel all tight and funny.
“Oh,” Reki breathes out quietly. His voice sounds weak.
Langa frowns, worried despite the tentatively happy expression on Reki’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Does that mean you like me?” Reki asks, ignoring his question. Sounding eager, now, and still just as breathless. “Like, romantically?”
“Yes,” Langa says, the word coming out shaky. He can’t help but smile back at Reki, small and hesitant but certain, too, because he does like Reki, and he’s not afraid of saying it. Wants to say it again and again and again, in fact. “I like you so much .”
“Oh,” Reki makes again, and nothing else.
Langa raises a brow, unsure what that’s supposed to mean. “‘Oh’?”
The smile on Reki’s face gets impossibly wider. “I like you too, Langa,” he says, and god, he sounds so happy about it, so excited, and Langa feels like there are fireworks exploding inside his chest, electricity crackling through his veins as the words register. “I like you so, so much. It’s ridiculous how much I like you.”
“Oh.” He understands Reki now; his brain has emptied of all thoughts, there’s no other sound he can make, no words left inside of him.
There’s a teasing, fond glint in Reki’s eyes as he steps closer to Langa. The distance between them is very small, and Langa is very aware of the fact that he’d barely have to reach out to touch Reki. He wants to so badly, but feels frozen to the spot at the same time, his body unable to process what is happening, unable to react the way he wants it to.
“Can I kiss you?” Reki asks, quietly, even though they’re alone at the skatepark. This moment is just for them. “As more than a friend?”
The grin that spreads on Langa’s face is unstoppable, huge and giddy. “Yes,” he whispers, already leaning in, already closing the distance between them. “Please. Kiss me, now.”
He can feel the puff of Reki’s laughter against his lips, and then Reki’s lips are on his, and they’re kissing, finally, finally. Langa reaches for Reki’s face, pulling him in carefully, and he can’t help but laugh against Reki’s mouth, a quiet, disbelieving sound. He’s so happy he thinks he could burst with it, a bright bubble of it expanding in his chest and only getting bigger when Reki laughs as well, when Reki puts his hands on Langa’s hips and holds him close and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.
It seems impossible that it should be this easy, but then again, maybe it shouldn’t surprise Langa. Things between them have always been easy, the gravitational forces pulling them together too strong for the two of them to ever stay away from each other. Maybe this is where they’ve been heading right from the beginning.
Right now it feels like it, anyway: The sun is shining, the day bright and warm, and Langa is kissing Reki, and he’s in love, and Reki likes him back. It’s the most perfect thing ever, and there’s nowhere else Langa would rather be.