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The first time Reki kissed Langa the world was on fire. Well, not really. But the sun was setting and the whole world was orange and his chest was burning, but not in a bad way. He felt warmer and happier and more loved than he’d ever felt before. He had also been crying seconds before.
The first time Reki kissed Langa was mere moments after a watery confession at the top of the halfpipe in the empty skatepark.
“It’s not like you need someone like me hanging around, I’d only drag you down,” Reki had told him, “You deserve better company.”
He had let this worthless feeling build up for so long that it began to hinder his relationships. Langa wasn’t having any of it.
“If you drag me down, then I would hate to know what going up is like.” The statement was so awkward it made Reki let out a laugh between sniffles. Langa’s sentiment was taken to heart however, when he rested a hand on Reki’s cheek, swiping away tears with his thumb, “Reki, I love you. I don’t want to skate without you, I don’t even want to exist without you. You are the brightest, most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
The world was on fire.
“Langa-" I love you too, Reki thought. I love you more than you know.
Langa smiled, “Can I kiss you, Reki?”
Reki didn’t mind if it burned. So long as Langa lit the flame.
—————-
The first time Kaoru kissed Kojiro they were drowning in black.
Kojiro had found Kaoru sitting under the overpass the night Adam left. Even in the dark - there were no street lights here- he could tell Kaoru had been crying. Seeing him this distraught drained all colour from Kojiro’s world.
Without a word, he set down his board and sat down beside his friend. He kept a careful five centimetres between them, as he’d trained himself to do in the presence of Adam. Old habits died hard it seemed.
“He didn’t say goodbye,” Kaoru sniffed, “didn’t even say he was leaving.”
Kojiro turned to face his friend. The boy's long hair was covering his face, thick strands loose from his usual carefully put together ponytail.
He took a risk, and pushed a strand aside. If there were more colours in the world, Kojiro would see that his friends' eyes were lined with red.
As if having his face uncovered were a trigger to move, Kaoru melted into Kojiro. Before he could process the embrace that already felt so illegal, Kaoru’s lips were on his own. The graffiti on the wall beside them was blue, it turned out, not gray.
They never spoke of the kiss again after that. Each party had convinced themselves that it was meaningless, an action in a moment of weakness, an outlet for hurt and betrayal.
Kaoru’s eyes seemed to be duller after that day.
—————-
The second time Reki kissed Langa was at S.
He had never been so excited and nervous and full of energy before this day. As he watched Langa - his boyfriend - descend the path they both had skated so many times, Reki tried his best to contain himself. Langa (his boyfriend!!) was skating a beef against Miya (the brat) and was sure to win. They were on the last stretch of the course, and this was where Langa excelled.
Reki stood as close to the track as he could without being in danger of causing a crash, bouncing on the balls of his feet and yelling his voice hoarse in support of Langa. As they both approached the finish, Miya edged closer, but Langa held his lead until the end. All at once Langa crossed the line and Reki finally exploded, a cloud of energy and love and pride and red hair. Langa hadn’t even picked up his board before Reki was on him, hanging off his boyfriend and pulling him into a kiss that would set flame to the ocean and nearly taking them both to the ground in the process.
“You won!” Reki yelled when they broke apart, still clinging onto Langa, “I knew you would.”
“You two are disgusting,” Miya complained as he walked past.
Reki retaliated by peppering his boyfriend’s face with as many kisses as there were stars in the sky.
———
The second time Kaoru kissed Kojiro they were in the kitchen.
Kojiro was cooking dinner for Kaoru, as he did nearly every night after his restaurant closed.
He stood over the stove, stirring a pot of spaghetti to keep it from boiling over. Kaoru floated beside him, in his hand was an uncharacteristically full glass of wine.
Kojiro kept stirring while Kaoru put his glass down on the counter beside him. He kept stirring while the other man wrapped cold hand around his waist, felt through the thin t-shirt he had on. He kept stirring while Kaoru rested his head on Kojiro’s shoulder and he tried not to think about pink hairs inevitably ending up in their food.
He stopped stirring only when Kaoru said his name. “Ko. Kojiro.” His words were soft, but complete. Not at all drunken or slurred like they would normally be after a glass or two or five of wine. He supposed maybe Kaoru wasn’t drinking tonight, after all.
“Mhm?” Kojiro hummed, still holding the wooden spoon in his left hand, “What’s wrong?”
“You never asked, after that night.”
Kojiro knew exactly what night he meant, nothing had looked the same since.
“I thought you wanted to forget it,” He said, swirling the boiling water around.
Kaoru fidgeted with a thread on the hem of Kojiro’s shirt. “I never forgot.”
In one swift movement, Kojiro dropped the spoon in the pot and turned to face the other man. He had never seen gold shine as bright as it did in front of him now.
He felt a cold hand on his neck as ten centimetres turned into two, and then none, and colour came flooding back into his world. His eyes were closed but he knew when they opened every molecule around him would be brighter, more vibrant than ever before.
Kaoru let out a laugh against his lips, “Ko, the pasta.” He said. Kojiro didn’t care about the pasta. Kaoru was here, he was all he needed. “It’s boiling over, Kojiro.”
He was right, of course. The pasta was out of control. In a panic, Kojiro shut off the burner and found the nearest dish towel to wrap around the handle of the pot while Kaoru took a seat on the countertop. The smile tugging at his lips was enough to keep Kojiro from being angry at the failed dinner while he drained water into the sink.
Needless to say, the pasta was quickly forgotten.
———
By New Year’s eve, Reki had lost count of how many times he had kissed Langa. His best estimate was around a million, however realistic that may have been.
The two boys took every chance they could get to touch, be that holding hands, or pecks on the cheek, or making out in Reki’s bedroom. Miya had taken to calling them ‘germ traders’ in retaliation to their PDA.
Now, all three of them were at a New Year’s party along with Cherry, Joe, and Shadow.
Kojiro had also lost track of how many times he had kissed Kaoru. Their time between that unsuccessful dinner and now had been filled with late nights and spilled wine and so, so much colour.
Unlike the younger boys, Kojiro and Kaoru were much more private with their affection. They chose to sneak away from crowds and steal glances and spend their nights together in one apartment or another, rather than hang off each other in public.
But ask anyone, and they’d tell you Kaoru and Kojiro were sickeningly in love all the same.
Midnight was approaching quickly, another year flown by.
The timer Miya set up counted one minute, thirty seconds, and then 10.
Shadow lit sparklers, passing one to Miya to draw in the air with.
9.
Reki and Langa locked eyes.
8.
Kaoru set down his drink, cheeks flushed.
7, 6, 5.
Reki grabbed Langa’s arm, dragging him out of the booth they had been occupying.
4, 3, 2.
Kojiro pushed a hair out of Kaoru’s face, tucking it behind his ear.
1.
As the new year began, Reki kissed Langa and Kojiro kissed Kaoru. Not for the first time, or the second time, and certainly not for the last time. Possibly the millionth, but who was counting?
And unlike the first time, there were no tears. Unlike the second time, no one had won anything and no pasta was burned.
But the world was on fire and so full of colour and the brightest it had ever been.