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Langa crosses the finish line, every muscle taut, feeling the rush of air on his damp skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears an exasperated “Fuck!” close behind him, but he’s already too busy scanning to crowd for wild red hair. He wonders if Reki saw him take over at the last turn before the factory. It was close, a good beef.
He spots Reki in the back of the crowd and makes his way to him, cutting through cheers and pats on his back, as well as some rude calls of “That’s what you get for challenging Snow, newbie!” and “Takes more than that to beat Snow”.
As soon as he arrives at their little group of Miya, Joe and Shadow, Reki rushes forward and grabs the collar of his open shirt, eyes sparkling.
“Langa, dude! That slide on the last turn. That was insane!!!”
His grin is almost blinding and Langa feels a rush of pride run through him.
“It was close”, he answers and Reki squints his eyes shut, groaning in disbelief.
“Nah, man. No way he was gonna beat you.” He grabs Langa’s face with both hands. “You were on fire tonight.”
Langa stares at the crinkling corners of Reki’s eyes and the excited flush to his cheeks. Yeah. A good beef.
Then Reki’s eyes fall to the board under Langa’s right arm and he drops into a crouch.
“Damn. That wheel’s done for”, he mumbles as he starts fumbling with it. Langa hands the board over to him and greets the others.
“Sick beef! Not that slide though. Lame-o”, Shadow teases him, extending the “o” until he’s short of breath and has to cough to clear his throat. “Beginner moves like that only work on newbies and you know it”, he finishes by sticking his tongue out and up, so it almost touches his nose.
Langa wrinkles his own nose at that.
Joe chuckles “Better every day, kid” and throws Langa his signature smile, the one that usually causes uproar and a few cases of fainting, when directed at crowds. Reki claims it’s not the smile but the flexing that comes with it, but Langa has yet to see to supposedly dazzling appeal of either.
“Hi Miya”, Langa calls out to their younger friend, who seems to ignore him.
“Snow”, he answers haughtily. “Almost good enough to face me now, are you?”
Langa lets out an amused huff and then feels hands on his shoulders as Reki leans over him to tease Miya back.
“You wish!” He presses up against Langa’s back to get more into Miya’s face.
“I’ll let you race me though. You know, for training. And then maybe in, I don’t know…” Reki’s hand shoots out in front of Langa’s face, fingers counting off. Thumb. Index. Middle. Bandaid.
“In about three months you should be ready to lose in a very close race with this genius.”
Reki’s counting arm wraps around Langa’s chest, holding onto his left shoulder and he feels a hand ruffling his hair.
“Rekiii”, he whines, attempting to flatten it again.
The answering laugh comes very close to his ear, so close he can feel Reki’s breath. Hmm.
Before he has a chance to start panicking about that, Miya throws them his usual disgusted look and changes the subject. “Let’s head to the bowl. I’ve had enough of this crowd and I’m thirsty.”
They make their way over, slowly, with people constantly getting in the way, attempting to talk to Joe or Langa. Shadow is beyond huffy by the time they finally take a seat by the crates.
Only for Joe to immediately announce it’s time to get a workout in and leave, with Shadow following tight on his heel, yelling something about “leave some for the rest of us”. Miya snorts and takes a big drink from his water bottle.
“I can’t tell if Joe’s better or worse when Cherry is gone on one of his business trips”, he drawls.
“Better”, Reki announces from the ground where he is rummaging through his backpack. “No, wait. Worse.”
Langa wraps his arms around himself. Now that the excitement has worn off, he’s getting chilly. It’s not often he exerts himself this much during a beef these days and he guesses the nights are getting colder now.
Suddenly there’s a soft bundle in his lap.
“Don’t argue. I can see that you’re cold, man”, Reki calls out.
The bundle turns out to be one of Langa’s sweaters. He looks at Reki in question.
“What?”, he answers. “I packed this for you. Not like you were gonna check the weather, Mr. I’m-from-Canada-I-never-get-cold”, he teases.
There’s another snort coming from Miya’s direction and a muttered “Gross”.
Langa pulls the sweater over his head and instantly feels warmer. Reki’s smile is soft as he crouches down once more and produces a thermos.
“Here”, he holds it out to him.
Langa makes a face and Reki laughs.
“It’s not green tea again, I promise”, he says with an amused tone to his voice, unscrewing the lid and pouring a cup for Langa, who eyes it suspiciously.
“Honey Yuzu. It’s sweet”, he pushes the cup in Langa’s hand. “Don’t you trust me?”
Langa takes a cautious sip and hums in appreciation. It really tastes good. He keeps forgetting how much he likes Yuzu.
Miya makes a retching sound and calls out to Reki.
“Can you tone it down there, acts-of-service? I’m gonna lose my dinner.”
In an instant Reki turns bright red, closes the thermos and grabs his board.
“Imma head over to the others, see if Joe will teach me that backside wallride of his”, he mumbles and leaves.
Langa throws Miya a mild glare.
“That was mean, Miya. Don’t call Reki a servant.”
He earns himself a confused look. “What are you talking about?”
“You said he acts as service. That’s not fair. He’s just being nice. Don’t compare him to Adam’s butler or whatever he is.”
Miya’s answering groan is so loud, it turns a few heads. He continues their conversation in English.
“Your Japanese is still a disaster. I said acts of service, not acts as service.”
It seems as if it’s not a matter of language barrier. Langa looks at him confusedly.
“Like the love language? Shouldn’t old people like you know about this?”, Miya drawls.
To Langa it feels like his friend is just confusing him on purpose now. “The what?”
The other boy runs a hand down his face.
“You really need it spelled out?”, he questions but doesn’t even wait for Langa’s answer. Which would have been yes, if anyone cares, obviously yes.
Miya picks up the crate he was sitting on and moves it closer to Langa’s. Then he continues on in a quiet voice.
“The PDA is at a record-level high. Can you idiots please do something about it? I can’t watch this any longer. It’s been months.”
“What do you mean?” Langa is no expert at communicating but he feels like this was not a good example of “spelling things out”.
“Ugh”, Miya groans. “Reki’s obviously in love with you.”
Langa sucks in a sharp breath, then holds it until he feels his lungs scream with it.
“What?!?”, he whisper-yells.
Miya seems to be at the end of his rope, his voice comes out exhausted. “You must be joking. He’s throwing out more signs than stupid one-liners!!!”
Suddenly Shadow returns, apparently deflated, and their conversation comes to an end. The night wraps up not long after, what with Shadow moping, Joe still holding court, Reki making himself scarce and Langa deep in thought for the rest of the time.
When he gets back home he flops down on his bed, mind still turning. Was Miya teasing? He’s always joking about stuff like this to Cherry and Joe. Making faces and acting all disgusted about certain things. Maybe he was just in one of his moods? Because of Reki’s teasing after the beef maybe?
The ping of his phone pulls him back to his room. It’s a text from Miya.
_Educate yourself, you oblivious disaster.
There’s a PDF attached and Langa clicks on it.
The opening page reads “The 5 Love Languages®”. Quickly he browses the summary.
Okay.
But does this…? No. Can’t be.
Sure, Langa concedes to himself, Reki is a very verbal friend. Like… encouraging. Maybe more touchy than others, but that’s just Japan. In Canada he wouldn’t even come off as that touchy… well. But it’s because he is excitable. And he has a lot of energy, so he does a lot of things. For others. And likes to hang out a lot, cause he gets bored otherwise.
It can’t be.
Langa texts back.
Miya, I don’t know. That’s just how Reki is_
Nice_
And to clarify his point he adds:
And stuff_
He watches the little dots that indicate Miya is typing.
_Wow
More dots.
_Only you would argue against science
Langa huffs but is at a loss for a good retort.
_Whatever. Can’t say I didn’t try
_Good night, Slow
Dot. Dot. Dot.
_Snow
_Not a typo btw
_That came from my soul
Langa doesn’t sleep a lot that night. He reads. And thinks. And panics. Then reads some more.
Maybe he’ll watch out for that stuff for a while. To make sure.
That Miya’s wrong.
He must be. Right?
words of affirmation.
Langa wakes to the sound of a ping from his phone.
His right ear feels very hot and irritated, probably from being pressed into the pillow too hard when he finally fell asleep. His blanket is on the floor except for one corner that’s somehow wrapped around his foot. And his shirt’s pushed up under his armpits.
Safe to say he does not feel rested.
With a groan he pushes himself up from the mattress, flops onto his back and grabs his phone.
_Morning my dude
_Cant wait to hang after school
_Just watched a video of a super rad trick
_videolink
_Youd nail that in no time im sure
_And dont worry about the japanese test today. You got this
Langa feels a little too tired to type in Japanese right now, so he answers with a chicken emoji. Then he watches the video. Reki’s right, looks awesome. Like the guy’s suspended in air. Langa smiles to himself, looking forward to the afternoon already.
_Ah man the chicken? Short night huh
Sleepy emoji.
_Sorry dude, sucks. See you at the corner in 20
Langa is late. Because Langa is slow today. Because Langa is thinking.
After waking up fully he registers that he wanted to keep an eye on Reki’s behavior a bit. So he thinks about the texts.
At first, nothing stands out to him. Reki texts him every morning.
Every morning.
While Langa is brushing his teeth – or more like chewing on his toothbrush and letting toothpaste foam drip down his chin – he scrolls through their chat. Every day. Since…
Langa doesn’t know since when Reki’s been doing this, because he can’t even scroll this far up in the chat. At least not if he wants to leave the house before school starts.
The texts, they are… nice. They’re making Langa smile every morning.
He tries to remember what he read last night. What he read over and over, stressing out about what Miya had said. Words of affirmation. Langa had assumed that just means voicing your feelings, but there was more. What was it.
Appreciation. Compliments. Encouragement. Support.
Well, okay.
But that’s just Reki. He’s just as supportive with Miya and always has a compliment for anybody – whether it’s for skating or any talent really or clothes or yeah. That’s Reki. Just passing people in the street and telling them that their jacket looks awesome. Or complimenting the girls in their class for their colorful nail polish. Even thanking teachers for a lesson that he found helpful or easy to understand. It’s one of the things that make Reki who he is.
And sure, it’s more so with Langa. But they’re best friends. It makes sense.
Later Langa is still convinced of that when Reki compliments his “cool accent” while he helps him study English a bit during their lunch break, and tells him “you’re a great teacher, man”.
His beliefs however waver a bit, when he finds a melonpan with a sticky note on his desk when Japanese class starts. The note has a doodle of his Yeti chewing on a pencil on it with a simple “you got this” next to it.
Langa puts the note in his backpack to add to his collection at home.
His collection of sticky notes with Reki’s doodles and words of encouragement.
There’s enough of them to warrant the term “collection”.
So yeah, Langa wavers but then the Japanese test kicks his ass a little bit and his mind goes elsewhere for the rest of the day.
After school they go to the skatepark to practice the trick Reki sent him in the morning. Langa has no trouble with it and gets it down after a few tries, as Reki cheers him on from the top of the halfpipe.
“Are you done for today, Reki?”, Langa asks when he sits down next to him at the top, considering that the other hasn’t been skating himself for the last half hour at least, just watching instead.
Reki grins at him and rubs the back of his neck.
“Yeah, man. Think so.”
Langa furrows his brows. “You’re not having fun today?”
“Oh no, dude, that’s not it”, Reki bumps their shoulders together. “Sometimes I have way more fun just watching you figure out something new. It’s like…”
He stops mid-sentence to rub his hands on his pants and then switches into sitting cross-legged, hands on the concrete behind him, leaning back and looking up at the darkening sky. Then he continues.
“Man, I don’t know. It’s just awesome, you know. You’re so fucking talented, I can’t stop watching sometimes.”
Langa blushes at the praise, at a loss for an answer. He feels overwhelmed with it, after everything he’s been thinking about since last night.
They sit in silence for a while, before they both make their way home.
Back in his room after a shower Langa scrolls through their chat again. A ping interrupts his wandering thoughts, a new message from Reki.
_Im really lucky to have you as my best friend
_Hope youll sleep better tonight
Langa’s heart feels full and he answers right away.
Im lucky too_
Reki reacts with a heart emoji.
Then Langa texts Miya.
Hey Miya_
Does Reki ever text you?_
The reply only comes after a bit, when Langa is already settling down on his bed.
_Sometimes
_To make plans
_Or he sends me skating videos
_Not often
Miya is probably the person Reki’s closest to in their friend group. After Langa that is. And if they’re not busy fighting and teasing each other, Reki often has kind words for him. Langa just assumed that Reki texts like he talks. A lot. With everybody. But if it’s not the case with Miya, then… another ping interrupts him.
_Why
_Are you close to figuring it out, Slow?
Langa frowns at the tease, plugs his phone in to charge and turns to his side, facing away from the nightstand.
He wants to figure it out. He wants it to be true. But he can’t be wrong. He has to make sure.
He dreams a lot that night, tossing and turning, but the dreams evaporate as soon as he wakes up the next morning.
physical touch.
Langa already knows that Reki is a touchy person, so he’s sure that he won’t notice much of a difference, now that he’s paying attention.
He’s wrong.
It’s almost like no ten minutes go by without Reki touching him in some small way.
Obviously there is their dap or high fives or the occasional friendly ruffling of hair.
Or soft punches to his arms or shoulder or the rare gentle kick to the shin when Langa fails to realize that whatever he just did is something amazing to Reki and brushed off his compliment.
Those are things that Langa was aware of, but there’s so many others.
Like fingers brushing, when Reki hands Langa a snack, a water bottle, his sketchbook open to a page with some new board design.
Or shoulders bumping, as Reki’s trying to get Langa’s attention when he zones out a bit.
Often their feet touch, when Reki inches his legs closer while they sit next to each other on their boards in front of the convenience store or in their rooms or on the dumpster under the bridge while they wait for the worst of a sudden rain to pass.
Sometimes Reki hugs him, when Langa nails a new trick, and then lingers just a little longer, even when Langa is already starting to remove his hands but then quickly moves them back to Reki’s body when he realizes the hug actually isn’t over yet.
One time Reki grabs his shoulders from behind, before he sits down, when he joins him in the school cafeteria for lunch on a rainy day.
Another time Reki drops his forehead into Langa’s chest, blushing from a compliment about his art.
And then one morning Reki tries to smooth out Langa’s left eyebrow, after he overslept and arrives late to school late with bed-eyebrow, all smushed up from sleeping with his face in the pillow.
Langa catalogues those touches now.
Some of them make him spiral a bit, wondering if they are just on the edge of something other than best friends.
Because Langa’s never had a best friend before Reki. And Reki isn’t like anybody he’s ever known anyway.
It makes it very hard to judge, hard to compare.
And Langa is really not willing to ask Miya any more questions about that.
quality time.
A few days later on Saturday they’re planning to spend their day off together. Maybe it’s not actually a plan. It’s just how it always is when they have the day off.
Reki texts him in the morning that he’ll pick him up at eleven.
Langa uses the morning to un-panic himself. It’s not very effective.
Come eleven his palms are still sweaty when he leaves the house, board under his arm. Reki’s already waiting downstairs, waving at him when he gets out the door.
“You ready, man? It’s gonna be a bit of a ride”, he tells Langa with a huge smile stretching his face, holding his hand out for their dap.
Langa returns the gesture, drops his board on the ground and places his foot on it. “Where are we going?”
Reki snickers and winks at him. “You’ll see. Just follow me, ‘kay?”
It takes them over an hour to cut across town and it helps settle Langa’s nerves. The wind rushing past, the odd trick they do here and there to show off to one another, the random rays of sunshine cutting through the clouds.
Reki leads them to a parking lot with a few tables set up and a foodtruck sitting in one corner. They step off their boards and walk the last few steps.
“Lunch?”, Langa asks. He looks at the sign that reads “Fries basket”.
Reki softly punches his arm. “Wait ‘til you see the menu, man.”
A board lists daily specials but Langa can only make out the names of countries. Netherlands, Korea, USA, Peru, Canada. Wait. Canada?
He turns to Reki with a hopeful look. “Do they have..”
“Yeah!”, Reki doesn’t even let him finish the question, he seems so excited. “They got poutine. And it’s supposed to be legit. You know. The real deal. Apparently the guy worked a cruise ship as a chef for years and went to all these different places. Learned from locals. I found a review that said he even makes the cheese curds himself.”
“The cheese curds are…”
“The most important thing. I know, man, you told me.”
Langa just stares at Reki, amazed. It seems to make him uncomfortable, because he averts his eyes and starts rubbing at his neck. When he looks back at Langa he says “Come on, let’s give it a try”.
It’s almost a religious experience.
Langa ends up eating three servings, while Reki gives up after one, rubbing at his belly and claiming that he is, as of now, 30 percent gravy.
Afterwards he leads them to a small park nearby and scouts out a good spot by the pond. They lay in the grass and talk until Langa spots some ducks and has to make his way closer. He crouches by the edge of the water, watching as they clean their feathers and dunk their heads under water.
After a few minutes Reki hands him a small bag of lettuce pieces.
Langa looks up at him. “You knew there was going to be ducks?”
Reki grins back. “Yeah. Found this spot when I was looking up places we could hang at, after lunch. I had this insane idea that you might be too full to skate back immediately.”
He laughs loudly and two of the ducks complain with equally loud quacking.
“Man, I should’ve known you’d polish off multiple servings and not even feel it.”
Langa starts tossing lettuce into the shallow of the water. “I love ducks.”
“I know”, Reki answers, crouching down next to him, watching as Langa feeds them and then proceeds to take about 20 minutes of video footage of ducks munching lettuce.
They end up taking the train home, instead of skating, and Langa keeps replaying his duck videos with Reki laughing at him and bumping his shoulder every few minutes.
That night, Langa thinks about it. How Reki always looks right at him when Langa talks, like there’s nothing else going on around them. How Reki remembers everything Langa says. How Reki often brushes off people that approach him, kind but decisive, when they’re hanging out.
And he thinks about how there’s days like today, among all the other days when they’re just hanging in their rooms or at the skatepark or riding through town and getting snacks from the convenience store. Days that seem on purpose. Days that aren’t just there to hang out. Days that are more.
Days that Reki makes happen.
acts of service.
He also thinks about all the other things Reki does for him.
Langa had always assumed that Reki did things for people, because he is just a good friend, a kind person, somebody who likes keeping busy.
But upon closer inspection he realizes that Reki does in fact not fix other people’s boards without them even having to ask.
Or does not always carry a pair of somebody else’s socks in his backpack, because they hate having wet feet after getting caught in the rain.
He does not come out of the store after grabbing bandaids, with somebody else’s favorite shampoo that smells like grapefruit, because they’re almost out of it and apparently mentioned it the other day but then forgot to buy some.
Or switches to plastic bandaids instead of fabric, because somebody mentioned that they get a little freaked out when the fabric starts to unravel and feel sticky while the bandaid is still on their finger.
He only does these things for Langa.
And Langa hadn’t noticed, because Reki has been like that for as long as he’s known him.
It had started small, sure, but quickly grew into this, as they were getting to know each other better. But yes, always.
Reki’s always been like this with Langa.
Touchy from the start. Full of compliments and praise. Always paying attention to what Langa likes and dislikes. Making sure the time they spend together is fun and special and something that you still think about, when you go to sleep that day, as something to be grateful for. Helping Langa out, making his life easier in any way Reki can. In a way only Reki can.
Langa lies awake that night. Again.
Going over it all. Thinking that maybe, very possibly, Miya had been right.
That Reki might really like Langa too, the way that Langa likes Reki.
receiving gifts.
The next day Langa wakes up frazzled, nervous. And very, very tired after another restless night.
He’s wondering if he should say something to Reki, confess, but he doesn’t know how.
Also what if it goes wrong? What if he says something stupid, ruins it all.
What if he actually did misinterpret? Because he desperately wants to believe Miya is right. Because he wants to read all these things as more than “just Reki” and more than “just best friends”.
How do you even confess to your best friend?
“Thanks for the melonpan. By the way, I’m in love with you. Can you pass the water?”
“Nice kickflip. I love you. Wanna try that railslide down the stairs next?”
“No, I’m not bored. Let’s watch videos for the rest of the night. Can you lean on me more though? Cause I love you and stuff.”
Langa groans and throws his arm over his eyes.
Can’t it be like in the movies or whatever? When the moment just feels right and then people suddenly know what to say. Langa would appreciate that. So yeah, how about that please?
His phone pings.
_Can i come over
_Gotta show you something
Langa drops his phone on the bed next to him. Ugh. No. He needs to figure this out first.
Then he pauses.
He has never thought “no” about hanging out with Reki.
It makes him slightly mad at himself.
“Fucking get it together”, he mumbles as he texts back the thumbs-up emoji.
_Cool
_See you in 20 man
He gets up to brush his teeth, quickly wash up and put on a fresh change of clothes and then sits on his bed, with a container of Onigiri from the fridge. He’s holding one, not eating it, just staring at his door.
Shit.
“Sorry for intruding”, sounds Reki’s voice through the apartment. Then “Dude, where are you?”.
His bedroom door opens and Reki steps through, a little out of breath, a little flushed, hair a bit disheveled.
Langa feels sweat forming at the back of his neck.
Fucking shit.
He puts down the Onigiri and scoots forward to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Hi Reki”, he says and curses himself for sounding out of breath from absolutely nothing.
Reki grins at him. “Hey man.”
Then he grabs his backpack off his shoulders, drops to the ground in front of Langa and starts rummaging around.
“Here”, he says, holding out a pair of shoes.
Langa takes them with slightly shaky hands, not knowing what to say and also not wanting to say anything while his voice is still acting like… yeah.
Reki’s smile is blinding as he starts talking.
“Dude, I’ve noticed your Chucks are starting to fall apart a bit. And then the other day I passed a garage sale on the way to Dope Sketch and saw these.”
Langa starts turning the light blue sneakers in his hands. Just like his, but… they’re painted.
Reki keeps going.
“They are in almost perfect condition, check out the soles. Pristine, man. But yeah, there were a few stains in the fabric I couldn’t get out. So I kinda painted over them. Is it too much?”
Langa takes in the stylized mountainscape in white, grey and silver on the heel and sides. The Yeti on the left rubber cap. And the small red mascot with the halo on the side of the rubber sole, seemingly peeking up at the Yeti.
Reki gets up from his crouch and rubs the back of his head nervously.
“Dude, say something. Do you hate it? I can touch up the design a bit if you want.”
“Reki…”, Langa tries to answer but nothing else comes out.
He stares at the sneakers for a few seconds longer, letting it all come together in his head.
And suddenly he knows how to say it.
He puts the shoes down, gets up and starts pulling Reki in by the waist.
Reki panics, face going completely red as he asks with his voice cracking a bit “What… what are you doing??”
Langa cups Reki’s right cheek, lets his thumb brush the side of his mouth and answers “Sorry I’m not good at the love languages”.
And then he leans in and kisses him.
And it’s… yeah.
It’s so much more. After imagining it for months it still is more.
Langa feels Reki exhale a held breath against his lips and he pulls back a bit.
“I like you too, Reki”, he whispers against his mouth, letting their foreheads touch.
Reki’s arms are still hanging slack at his sides when he answers.
“But… I haven’t said anything?”
Langa lets the hand that is not holding onto Reki’s warm waist run down his arm and links their fingers together. Reki’s hand is sweaty.
“Yes, you have”, he says and kisses Reki’s temple, just under the headband. “Sorry it took so long for me to hear it.”
Then he kisses him again and Reki kisses back. Wraps his hand around Langa’s neck, fingers teasing up into his hairline. Pulls himself flush to Langa’s body. Gasps into his mouth. Laughs with his eyes squeezed shut, when they pull apart again. Hugs him and for the first time Langa doesn’t think the hug ends before Reki does.
As it turns out, Langa is “physical touch”.
But he tries very hard, every day, to be good at all the other ones too.