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Reki is no stranger to crushes. He's had them before – not a lot, mind you, and none of them ever went anywhere – but he's had them. A student from a grade above him who has graduated by now, a skateboarder who for a while frequented the same skate park as he did, a retired S competitor… all of them unattainable. They were brief friends at best, total strangers at worst.
(The one time he had scrounged up the courage to confess, to the only person who had ever come close to being attainable – he had gotten rejected. A blunt let-down delivered via e-mail; although they had seen each other almost every day until that point, that had been the end of the story and the end of their easy friendship.)
It's fine, though! His feelings fade and pass like the seasons, and the world keeps spinning until they're nothing more than memories. He doesn't get hung up on his crushes because, well, there's never been something to get hung up on in the first place. Beyond the starting fascination, there was nothing to sustain his interest.
Until Langa comes along.
And predictable, stupid Reki has to go and start crushing on him.
Langa is different in so many ways. Langa stays, here and within Reki's reach, through the hardships and the fights. He's such an intrinsic part of Reki's life that they've become a unit – it's Reki-and-Langa or Langa-and-Reki. For the second time in his young life, Reki has someone to call best friend, only this time it's someone who matches him in all the ways that matter.
He doesn't remember when it starts. There's no oh shit moment where he thinks "fuck, I'm crushing on him". He just wakes up one morning with the certain truth etched into his heart that yup, he's head over heels for his best friend. It really hits him when he sees Langa later that morning and they go to school together – not because it's any different than usual, but because Reki and being on time used to be two opposites.
Maybe it began that first night at S almost a year ago, when Langa did that stupid cool trick with his feet taped to a board. Maybe it happened when Reki hijacked the passenger's seat of Shadow's car as they raced after Miya and Langa. Maybe, for once in his life, it had nothing to do with skateboarding and it was, like, the first time they shared a waterbottle or something equally utterly mundane that did him in. Side note that becoming comfortable sharing foodstuff has been essential to their friendship; Langa is ruthless like that.
(It doesn't escape him that all of these examples happened so, so early into their friendship.)
At first he allows his feelings to wash over him as best as he can – it's a well-developed, successful routine. He knows his crush will fade soon enough, so what's wrong with indulging a bit? So what if he pretends that it means something when Langa spends long days tucked away with Reki in the workshop when he could be doing something else? It'll never matter because the crush will fade and it will settle into normal friendship and Reki won't mess up like last time.
Only, uh, it doesn't. Weeks turn into months and Reki is still caught in a romcom of his own making – in fact, if anything, his feelings have only gotten stronger. He's really played himself.
His next step is to ignore it. It goes about as well as one could expect when Reki is already too deep in the forest to escape the pine trees. Although he manages to push the whole ordeal to the back of his mind for a while, reminding himself over and over again of what happened last time, it doesn't last. Sad thing that his dumb heart doesn't much care for reason.
How is he supposed to ignore the infatuation now when his heart has already kicked down the door to his brain and wrecked the place? When he craves the thrill of being close to Langa like he craves the excitement of skateboarding, when he unconsciously doodles hearts next to the designs in his sketchbooks, now that he daydreams about the future home he totally won't have together with Langa?
Living together with friends has become pretty popular by the way.
He is already pretty stupid some times (debatable frequency). With his brain turning into sappy mush whenever he thinks about his best friend – which, really, is all the time – he is rapidly discovering new levels of stupidity previously unheard of. One of these days he's gonna throw up flowery prose all over Langa's shit when he's not even a romantic and then it'll be over!
(He really isn't. Reki is a lot of things, and yes, he keeps learning new things about himself every day, but he's not a romantic. His idea of an ideal date would be doing the same stuff he's already doing with Langa anyway, and- oh. Oh wait.)
Actually, now that he is trying not to crush on Langa, it's like the whole platonic facade gets that much harder to put on. Because now he's overthinking, and not in the giddy "what if he likes me back?tee hee" way but in the "oh fuck what if I get found out" way. What is he supposed to do when he yearns for the person he's already spending every waking hour with? (Greedily, he would be just fine spending every night with Langa as well).
It doesn't matter if Langa's smiles mean anything or not, since no matter how small they are, each and every one hypes up the butterflies in his gut, which have taken up permanent residence there. Maybe he should get that checked out. Sometimes he worries they'll break right out of ribcage if they don't calm down.
While he's used to feeling like he's soaring when he is skateboarding, this sensation, the fluttering of his heart on and off the board, that is something that still trips him up. He can't even touch Langa anymore, the part that has always been the easiest!
If he doesn't do anything about this, Langa will realize something is up. Wouldn't do if Langa catches on and it gets all awkward, right? Yeah. It's bad enough that Reki is feeling all weird about this, no need to involve Langa in it. Well. Not involve him any more, since, y'know, Reki is crushing on him and that's what this is all about.
There's gotta be a reason why Langa hasn't realized how gone Reki is for him, so it's for the best that he never does. And well, how hard can it be to not constantly cling to his best friend? How hard can keeping his hands to himself really be, huh? He'll just reel it back a bit, keep it casual, keep it cool, and everything will smooth over. Yeah.
It's a great plan!
So obviously the plan fails.
It's generous to even call it a plan to begin with, so it's no wonder that it doesn't work. It doesn't end in a big, dramatic confrontation – no, it fails in increments, because it was flawed from its conception.
See, though Reki tries so hard not to burst into Langa's personal space every five seconds, there's a small problem: he doesn't have the focus to stop. One second he'll be thinking "okay, Reki, you can gesture with your hands while you're talking to Langa, but that's all" and the next he has an arm slung around Langa's shoulder to show him a new video. Months of causal affection have culminated in a habit so intrinsic that he can't help it. Worse, he doesn't actually want to keep his hands to himself. He moves before he can think, the motion as natural as breathing, when he leans against Langa's side or catches him in a hug.
Besides – it occurs to him as he awkwardly hovers behind Langa with both of his arms hanging in the air since he's just stopped himself from draping himself over Langa's shoulders – Langa is bound to notice something if Reki stops completely, right? So, in a way, it's a good thing that he can't. Stop completely, that is. Right? Right.
Reki spends another five seconds thinking about his plan and concludes that instead he could just… pull away earlier. That's doable. Letting his touches linger hadn't been a problem before he got all weird about it. But then he got all weird about it. If he allowed himself to do that now, he would never let go and spend the rest of his days glued to Langa's side.
Ugh. Yuck. Hyperbole, but you get the problem.
So Reki pines and yearns and dreams of kissing Langa's hand in the moonlight, yet he staunchly does not pursue those dreams. When he wants Langa's attention, he gives him a gentle tap, and when he wants him to follow him somewhere, he tugs on his sleeve when normally he would simply drag him to wherever he wants to go. During lunch break at school he makes sure to place his bento between them for that little bit of extra space. During any scooter excursions – be it to S or somewhere else – he doesn't wrap his arms all the way around Langa's waist. It's not great but it works, and he finally feels like he can breathe properly again.
(One thing doesn't change, though. Patching up each other's scrapes and cuts has long since become a ritual. You can't underestimate the healing power of somebody caring for you. Smoothing his fingers over each bandaid, teasing Langa about what a big baby he is when he winces from the antiseptic – that is something Reki cannot give up. It's comforting, in a way, to be the one to tend to Langa's injuries. He can't protect Langa, that reckless guy, but he can care for him. And Reki is damn good at caring.)
(Langa is very gentle when he dresses Reki's wounds. Maybe because his mom is a nurse? Reki likes to think it's partly because of him as well – Langa did say that snowboarding is more of an all-or-nothing, break-bones-or-be-fine type of deal, so he wouldn't have much experience with scrapes and scratches. That's a whole new world of hurt that Reki introduced him to.)
Unfortunately, it doesn't take long before Langa starts acting….off.
Reki is used to Langa looking at him. It makes sense, y'know? Reki is always talking about this or that, constantly running his mouth because, damn, it feels good to have someone listen to him, and Langa tries his best to stay attentive. He is always looking at Reki when he listens – not eye contact necessarily, but at his face, the curve of his ear, his shoulders or hands or legs as he's idly swinging them. That's normal for them.
What is not normal is how often he now catches Langa staring at him when he is not talking, how often Langa flits his gaze away as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.
Langa has definitely noticed. Reki is going to die, he can already hear Langa's soft voice deliver the final blow, saying that maybe they should hang out less. And Reki would understand completely, say he doesn't want to keep Langa from living his own life; he has ruined things before so it's only right. Then hanging out less would turn into only seeing each other at school and at S, before eventually they wouldn't talk there anymore, either. All because Reki had to go and crush on his best friend again, like he hasn't learned a thing from last time.
Don't think about the rain. Don't think about the rain, don't think about the night, don't think about the lamp post, don't don't don't-
One slow day, when the sun is hiding behind some clouds, Langa is skating somewhat listlessly around the skatepark while Reki sits huddled on one of the half-pipes, his sketchbook propped up on his knees. The paper is worn thin from the eraser currently dangling from his hand. His knees smart from a rougher fall earlier, so he's content to doodle for now, or he would be if his hand wouldn't automatically doodle hearts.
Then Langa suddenly stops in his tracks.
Reki can only see his back from this position, has no hope of making out what kind of expression could be on his friend's face, but a pit of dread opens up in his chest. He steels himself for the rejection that will finally put him out of his uncertain misery, and starts considering the least awkward way to ask Langa for all his stuff back that has somehow wound up in Langa's home.
It takes a few agonizing moments before Langa actually turns around to face Reki, just enough time for Reki to plaster a smile on his face. He stalks up to Reki in that weird, endearing way, like a fawn; off the board, Langa loses most of his grace. It's mostly thanks to his looks that he still retains the title of Prince at school, not elegance. Not that their classmates can or want to appreciate his skateboarding elegance anyway.
Instead of joining Reki on top of the pipe like he normally would, though, Langa simply stares up at him. His lips are pressed into a line and the beginning of a frown creases his eyebrows. Although Reki has long since known this day would come, he still begins to jitter. Despite his foresight, he hadn't actually started preparing himself for this – how could he?
"Reki…" Langa starts slowly, carefully sounding out the syllables. He is wrinkling his nose, like he's having trouble finding the words he wants. Reki has seen this expression countless times, but it has never made his heart beat this fast.
Here it comes, here it comes.
"What's up, dude?" Reki asks, straining to keep his voice light and unassuming and not like he's watching the vacuum before a super nova.
But what Langa says isn't "let's stop being friends" or "by the way, I don't like you that way", no, it's worse:
"Did I do something wrong?"
The whole world stops turning, just long enough so Reki can stare at his best friend while his heart plummets, teetering past that pit of dread and doing a sick kickflip that'll just end with it crashing anyway. He digs his fingers into the edge of the half-pipe.
"No!" he splutters. "Why'd you think that?"
Langa pulls back – not physically, he just does that weird thing with his face that makes him look distant – the way he does when he thinks he's misread a situation. Usually he can rely on Reki to handle it in some way (clue him in, take over, escape), but now Reki is the one causing the problems.
"Lately, you…" he pauses again, squints up at Reki, looks away. "You're being weird."
Reki slides down the half-pipe so that they're standing in front of each other, figuring that this is a more appropriate way to handle this conversation.
"Says the guy who's always staring at me," Reki, certified genius, replies.
To his surprise, a blush creeps up Langa's face and he stutters a bit when he says, "I'm not!"
"Are too! I don't mind, y'know. Dunno if you noticed, but I like attention,"
Even if that attention makes him fidget and worry about his blood pressure. Reki grins, laughing in an attempt to dispel the weird tension building between them.
"Do you?" Langa asks. He's not meeting Reki's eyes.
"Yeah, man!" Reki says
If the atmosphere wasn't so weirdly charged right now, he'd bump his fist against Langa's chest. Reassuring him has always been easier with actions than with words. Less room to misinterpret – or well, perhaps it'd be more accurate to say different room to misinterpret.
"From me, too?"
Very carefully, Reki stills. Sweat beads below his headband. Oh, he loves Langa's attention, loves it too much, really. He craves it like he craves water after skating, somewhat embarrassingly, somewhat desperately, with due regularity.
"… What do you mean?" he asks anyway, his jaw too tense for him to simply say yes, yes, yes.
Langa frowns again and steps closer so Reki has to crane his neck even more to look up at him. Their size difference has never mattered to him before, but he suddenly feels like squirming when he feels so acutely small.
"Do you like attention from me?"
"It only gets weird when you act like you shouldn't be doing it," Reki says, avoiding Langa's eyes. Oh yeah. He's so good at handling conversations. If his board were any closer, he might have considered bailing on this talk.
Langa makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, a garbled sound that in actuality might have been an English curse. Reki would deserve it right now. He's not trying to be difficult, it's like the words don't want to leave his lips and would rather wipe out on the way out of his throat.
"Words, Langa," Reki says when Langa doesn't elaborate beyond that. He's too high-strung to worry about the affectionate way his voice curls around the name.
"You're being weird," Langa repeats. "And you're avoiding me."
"Avoiding you? Bro, I spend all my time with you."
Langa shakes his head. "That's not what I mean."
"Then what?"
Well… maybe he's not as ignorant as he's pretending, if he's following this train wreck of a conversation correctly. He has an idea of what Langa means, but it is kind of terrifying to consider that Langa might have noticed it. In his defense, Langa initiates physical contact like, once in a blue moon, so Reki didn't think it'd be a big deal if he initiates it less. (Perhaps Langa could have been secretly glad, for all Reki knows. He can be a lot).
Langa is staring him down like he knows exactly what Reki is thinking, watching as Reki begins to fidget and tug at his headband. It's unnerving, especially because in a battle like this, Reki is bound to lose.
Even without Langa delivering the killing shot.
"I don't want a repeat from that time in the rain."
All else stills and for a terrifying moment, everything becomes gray. The smell of rain seeps into his nose and tiny rain drops prick his skin. Then Langa reaches out, slowly, nervously, like he hasn't decided where to place his hand yet but couldn't just keep it by his side. It lands on Reki's shoulder in the end, a decidedly too bro gesture for this moment. But the weight of it tears Reki from that memory.
"Me neither," he manages, his throat dry enough that it comes out scratchy.
Emboldened, Langa takes another step closer, close enough that they're almost sharing the same breath, close not like regular friends or even best friends but like- like…
Langa's hand slips lower, curling around Reki's elbow instead.
"Then tell me what's up," he says. "You know I can't read people like you."
"That's not true, you got a lot better at-" he trails off under the force of Langa's stare.
He swallows. He swallows again and lets his eyes slip away from Langa, looking over the skate park, down the road leading past it, to the tips of the far-away trees. This isn't how he imagined this to go at all. It's been rough enough admitting it to himself, he has no idea what to say to Langa now.
"I'm not avoiding you," he says slowly, because strictly speaking it's true and it's not something he even wants to do. The next part is more difficult. But talking about feelings is enver easy, is it? "I'm… trying not to cling too hard."
Langa frowns. "What does that mean?"
"Well, y'know…" Reki starts gesturing vaguely in the little space between them, still not meeting Langa's eyes. "I know I'm kinda a lot. Not everyone likes the level of, uhm-" he cringes- "'physical touch' that I dish out, so I wanted to make sure you're not uncomfortable?"
It sounds weak, even to his own ears. It's a bit late to act concerned about that now, isn't it? If he were really concerned about that, their friendship would never have reached this level. Heck, Langa wouldn't have let it get this far, right? No, what he's concerned about isn't really Langa's comfort, is it…?
His heart clenches.
"Uncomfortable," Langa repeats, like the very notion is foreign to him and Reki might as well have spoken in German to him. Gesundheit.
Reki nods and finally does look at his best friend again. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, everything in him is straining to keep the thought inside where it can ollie into that pit of despair like all the rest.
He takes a deep breath, takes conscious note of the weight and warmth of Langa's hand on his elbow before he covers it with his own.
"I don't want to be too much for you," he admits quietly.
"You're never too much for me," Langa says immediately, as if glad that he finally understands the conversation again. He intertwines their fingers. "I would tell you if you were. But you have never been and I don't think you ever will be."
"Yeah, but you don't know that I'm-" just in time, Reki clams up. That I'm probably in love with you.
Langa tilts his head, leaning closer to Reki. "Don't know what?" he prods when Reki doesn't continue, his voice barely above a whisper.
Reki shakes his head. His heart is trying to jump out of his throat, beating inside his chest with all the force of a battering ram. His hands are sweaty, cold, and shaky. His chest feels tight. Oh. Yeah, he's decidedly freaking out right now. Nice going.
And then Langa wraps him in his arms, pulling Reki against his chest with almost the same anxious fervor. Langa's staccato heart beats against Reki's ear, one of Langa's cold hands is splayed on his back and pressing him closer.
"You're never too much for me," Langa repeats, a whispered promise between them.
And what can Reki do but clutch the back of Langa's shirt, dig his nose into Langa's collarbone and gather whatever breath he can? What can he do but, no matter how hard it is… be honest? About his feelings?
"I'm freaking out," he mumbles.
"That's okay."
…
"I don't want to lose you."
"I'll stay right here."
…
"You're my- you're my most important person. My favourite person."
"And you're mine."
…
"I want to skate infinitely with you. And I-"
Langa squeezes him tighter.
"And I…"
…
…
…
"Breathe, Reki," Langa gently says, his voice as shaky as Reki feels.
They take some deep breaths together, trying to go slower. Reki blinks away the tears that for some inexplicable reason gathered at the corner of his eyes. Why is this so difficult? Why, at this point, would Langa turn away in disgust when he's shown nothing but reciprocation to Reki's feelings? Why can't his brain shut up and let him choose soaring hope over plummeting fear?
"Can I say it first?" Langa asks.
Reki pulls away, just slightly, to look at his best friend's face. Langa's cheeks are splotchy with colour, his eyes widened like a deer facing a predator, but that pure-hearted determination of his is shining through, the one that Reki has admired since their first day together, since that first fateful backside rodeo at the end of Langa's first ever skateboarding race.
He could accept it. Let Langa take the leap, stay here on the ground and keep his feelings in an iron grip like he so often has.
"No, I… I want to go first," he forces out.
"Okay," Langa concedes in a hushed whisper, looking at him with such unabashed fondness that even Reki's mind has a hard time misconstruing it for anything else.
He takes the leap.