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Why do you take off at night sometimes? Why do you leave?
Sometimes when Reki and Langa are relaxing together on his bed, whispering about anything and everything that comes to mind, Langa asks questions that he’ll never have the answer to.
This time, the only thing that can come out of his mouth, quiet and unsure is, “ I fly”. It’s an odd way to describe them. His nightly strolls down the alleys of town, winding his way through the multicolour smoke that lines the back of every building in the club district.
Langa shifts and accidentally bumps his nose against Rekis. “ Fly? If you're doing drugs or something you should just tell me, I won’t be grossed out or anything”. He looks so sweet and perfect while he says the wildest things, he could make reading a book about car parts an event of great coolness.
Reki shifts this time and tilts his eyes downward, thinking about how he can put these excursions into words. “ I-It’s like dreaming, I don’t know. I go through the back alleys of downtown sometimes and just go and skate through those cloudy bits with the pastel lights drifting through them. I think of myself like an Angel of skateboarding. Like I’m some sort of pro that takes a leisurely stroll. It’s weird I know but I’ve been doing it for so long I can’t stop”.
Langa doesn’t say anything, but looks so intensely at Rekis face that red hot blotches of shame start to bloom on his cheeks.
Why does he always have to look so intense?
Instead of laughing or joking about the weird late night habits of his friend, he slowly gets up from the bed, grabs his skateboard from behind the door and turns to the boy in the bed. “It’s nearly nine, thinking about showing me this Angel of skateboarding?”
~*~
The air is slightly chilled as they make their way down the barely lit back streets of Osaka, drifting from curb to street in long liquid motions. Reki does what he always does and puts his arms on either side of him, feeling the breeze brush his sleeves as he speeds up, fruity smelling smoke wafting from the open window of a club bathroom.
Knowing Langa is there behind him, watching, makes him almost float all the way to heaven. Now Langa will know the peace Reki feels. The ecstasy. The one thing in the world he can give to Langa other than skateboarding.
His cheeks sting from the night wind, flush from the cold, but none of that matters. He’s in heaven. Lazily brushing the worn brick and wood that line every wall and roof edge. Every bump in the gravel sends small shockwaves up his legs as he powers forward, scuffing his sneakers, messing his hair. He closes his eyes.
The only thing guiding him is the board beneath his feet.
~*~
Langa is a simple person, he loves skateboarding and messing about with his friends. He goes to school and has a job. Simple. The way Reki makes him feel is anything but simple. He forced his way to Langas heart with easy smiles and cheesy jokes, made a small nook in Langas ribs and nestled there. Solid and sweet. When Langa looks at Reki now, the home in his chest where Reki lives feels painful, like at any moment a sharp pain is going to burst its way out.
Langa can’t look away. Angel of Skateboarding is an understatement. Reki looks like a rugged nymph, gliding down winding streets and roads with no direction but feeling. If Langa had seen him years ago, lanky and filled with teenage angst, he would’ve thought him the best skater in the world. He would’ve bought every magazine that had even a whisper of his name. Brushed his chapped middle school lips over every poster hung on his wall. Wrote Reki again and again in his workbooks to memorize every syllable. Daydreamed of one day even catching a glimpse of him swirling around on his board while desperately thinking me!me!me! Like a love struck little girl. He wouldve been obssesed. Enchanted.
When Reki breaks from the haze wafting in his brain, he looks over to see that Langa has stopped, foot dragging on the road. What could he be doing? Langa is so silent and still Reki feels like something momentous happened. Something to do with him.
Reki sometimes thinks that Langa only sticks around with him because theres nobody else he really hangs out with, that he looked at all his copious options, sighed, and picked Reki. Other times he thinks Langa cant live without him, the way he curls into his chest at night and burrows his cold bony feet against Rekis legs. He can never quite figure him out.
Reki turns and skates down to where langa has stopped and looks at him with a face of quiet confusion. Let it be Langa who hurts himself or something and doesn't tell anyone.
“Are you ok, we can stop if yo-“, before he can finish Langa is grabbing him and pulling his hoodie forwards, grazing his silk soft lips against Rekis, saying things in English he wishes he could understand.
Only there is one word Reki can pick up clear as day, a word he has heard on a weekly basis.
Angel.
~*~
Its dark when they finally stumble through Langas door, smiling and breathless, sneaking sly glances at eachother every second they can.
They wont talk about it, like they dont talk about a lot of things regarding this thing between them. Only one thing is true, Langa kissed him, smiled his shy awkward smile and decided that Reki was the person most deserving of his kiss. Him. Pulled him close and nearly toppled both their boards over with the force of it.
When they finally change into the clothes Langa had set out for sleep, there is a charged moment as they glance at eachother from across the bed.
There is a understanding. A truth they both know.
Tonight meant something. Something neither could describe.
Reki is the one to break, pulling the covers back and laying down. Turning his back to the other side of the bed. Langa made a mistake. He must have. The stale air of Langas bedroom, the faint whirring of the fan on his desk, every small detail, make Reki think of the kiss as more real in his mind. Something so concrete he could break a tooth on it.
It is silent for a moment. Then another. Reki thinks Langa will do as he is doing and ignore it all. Pretend.
But he doesnt. Langa gently gets into the worn sheets of his bed, rolls onto his awkward and tall side, lifts his hand to smooth the creases in Rekis shirt and then curls them around his waste.
”I meant it. I meant to kiss you”. His voice is so quiet and soft that if Reki were a centimeter to left he wouldnt have heard him. But he does. He hears Langas charming disjointed japanese and understands.
Reki smiles to himself and can only think that he shouldn't feel so damn proud and relived.
It wasnt a mistake. He chose me. I was chosen. It wasnt some stupid mistake.
With Langas old broken fan buzzing in the backround, the spring cincadas singing their age old song, Reki whispers the only answer he can give. The only one he will ever know.
”私はあなたを信頼しています、私の愛”.