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1
Langa is the coolest best friend Reki could ever ask for.
No, seriously. Langa may seem kind of weird and anti-social, and sometimes he misses things that seem obvious or is more blunt than is strictly necessary. And he is constantly trying to steal Reki’s food. But all of those things are just quirks of his personality! Features, not bugs.
Most of the time, it’s actually pretty endearing. Well, except when Reki looks down to find the last of his french fries gone when he knows he didn’t touch them. But, nobody’s perfect.
A lot of people wouldn’t get it. Their classmates don’t, not really. The girls all think Langa is cool and handsome, of course. (Which, he is. It’s an objective fact. Reki still feels kind of weird for thinking it, though.)
But they don’t really know him, not like Reki does.
Sometimes, someone will try to strike up a conversation with Langa. Like once, when their math teacher gave them a free day because he was out sick, there was this girl who came up and tried to talk to him—technically, she was talking to both of them, but Reki could tell it was mostly for Langa.
Reki doesn’t really remember what she had been talking about. A party, or something? He wasn’t paying very good attention.
But he does remember how she had twisted her hair around a finger, and smiled sweetly at them (but mostly at Langa). “So, how about it? Kyan-kun?” She had fluttered her eyelashes at Langa, and Reki had felt his stomach flip uncomfortably. “Hasegawa-kun?”
It had brought Reki no small amount of satisfaction when Langa had looked back at their classmate blankly and responded, “Sorry, what were you talking about?”
Which is, honestly, another thing that Reki likes so much about Langa. He always listens to Reki, even though he is terrible at listening to others. It makes Reki feel…special. Reki has never felt special, but when he’s with Langa, it’s different. He's suddenly important.
Reki sort of prides himself on knowing Langa better than anyone else, as well. Besides his mom, obviously. And their other friends (their real friends, not the people at school) can at least read Langa pretty well. But Reki can tell what Langa’s thinking, in the same way that Langa can tell what Reki’s thinking.
Most of the time.
Because, even though Langa is literally the greatest, sometimes Reki can’t quite figure him out.
There are…things he does. Things he says. Little moments where Reki can’t quite puzzle out why he’s doing or saying that thing, and they stand out because they don’t quite fit into the picture that is their relationship.
Like, they’re at DOPE SKETCH one day, waiting for customers to come in. Langa is helping Reki with his English homework (but he’s honestly not very useful when it comes to grammar). Reki is helping Langa with his literature homework (but he wasn’t really paying that much attention to the book.) They are both bored out of their skulls.
“How’s your mom doing?” Reki asks, mostly to give him some way to procrastinate that feels more productive than trying to balance his pen on his upper lip (again).
Langa hums in response. “She’s alright. Busy with work.” There’s the slightest pause. “She asks about you a lot, y’know. She wants to meet you.”
Reki’s kind of surprised, but, to be fair, Langa doesn’t have any other friends—well, friends his age. He guesses it makes sense for his mom to ask. “Yeah, sure. I can, like, come over this weekend and meet her or something?”
Langa gives him a look; one of those looks that Reki can’t quite parse out, but makes him think Langa is displeased about something. “No, she wants to meet you. She thinks we’re, well, y’know.” He has these big, imploring eyes, like he really wants Reki to grasp what he’s trying to say.
Reki is not grasping what he’s trying to say. “Like we’re…best friends?”
Langa is still staring at him, but then he sighs and deflates. “Yeah. Sure.” He turns back to his homework. “She’s wondering if you’d be available for dinner soon.”
There’s something in the set of his shoulders that makes Reki sure that he’s messed up, but he doesn’t have time to question it before a customer comes in.
Whatever it is, Langa doesn’t seem mad, so Reki decides to put it out of his mind. It’s probably nothing anyways—just another of Langa’s quirks.
2
It’s a Saturday, and they don’t have work, so of course they’re at the skate park before it hits noon.
Normally, there are at least some younger kids playing there, which is fine by Reki. He likes seeing people learning how to skate, and it’s not like they’re getting in his way or anything. Plus, it makes Reki’s chest fill with pride whenever Langa lands a really cool trick, and the kids start gushing over him.
Today it’s empty though, which is also fine. Miya gets hissy when there are too many people around, so Reki is glad to see him at ease in the deserted park.
The two of them are waiting on the side, watching Langa practice a new trick. He only started trying to figure it out about a week ago, but he’s already almost got it down. In the past, this would fill Reki with jealousy and self-doubt, but now he’s just marveling at how goddamn cool Langa is.
Miya is way less likely to admit it, but Reki knows he also thinks Langa is awesome. Which is just as well. Langa deserves to be admired by everyone.
He’s gathering speed, rolling up and down the sides of the ramp as if trying to hype himself up. Reki watches him, watches how he prepares to try the trick, and is so sure that Langa is gonna get it this time—
But then he bails out at the last second, his skateboard skidding out from underneath him as he lands hard at the bottom of the ramp
Reki is already running to him. Langa is grumbling and rubbing his tailbone, but he doesn’t seem like he broke anything.
Miya snorts, even as Reki reaches Langa and grabs his hand, pulling him up. “Alright, that’s enough of that. I wanna practice too.”
Langa doesn’t even protest, which Reki takes as a sign that the fall really was as nasty as it looked. He grabs Langa’s board and guides him towards a bench, nodding for Miya to go ahead. They sit down as the sound of Miya’s wheels fills the air.
“You alright, dude?”
Langa is frowning, but he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Reki figures his facial expression probably has more to do with failing the trick than any injury, which is for the best.
Still, Reki feels bad. “Alright, if you’re sure. I’m gonna go grab something from the vending machine. Do you want anything?”
“Nah.”
Reki nods, then skates off and gets himself a soda. When he gets back, Langa is staring intently at Miya gliding through the air. Reki grins, settling down next to him, and just like that, Langa’s attention slides right to him.
“Miya’s pretty awesome, right?” He cracks open the soda and takes a sip.
“Yeah.” But Langa has stopped looking at Miya and is instead watching Reki drinking; there’s something intense in his eyes that Reki can’t parse.
Reki raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude. If you want a sip, you can just ask.”
Langa flinches, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Reki just holds the can out for him, and Langa slowly takes it.
“Um. Sure, thanks.”
Reki’s about to say something about how he should’ve just gotten Langa his own soda, but then the words are caught in his mouth because Langa is drinking from his soda, his throat bobbing as he swallows, and Reki is struck with the sudden thought about how this is totally like an indirect kiss.
Langa hands back the can, wiping his mouth, and Reki feels himself flush bright red. And then, because it can always get worse, Langa gives him this little half-smile. Reki might actually die.
Sometimes, he really wishes Langa was interested in him as more than a friend.
There’s a disgusted noise, and Reki turns to see Miya scowling at them. He’s not really sure what’s up with that, but he takes it as his cue to go take over the ramp.
3
Even after so many months of being friends, watching Langa race in a beef still manages to take Reki’s breath away.
Reki had worried after the tournament that he would never get to see Langa at “S” anymore, simply because his friend would be too swamped with fans every night. But, although it’s true that Langa is usually surrounded by people trying to talk to him, he still manages to always stick right by Reki’s side. It makes him feel warm.
Still, Reki never tells Langa to back down from a beef anymore, and Langa never does. Reki loves it, loves how much Langa just enjoys skateboarding. It’s really great to have a friend who’s just as passionate as Reki is.
So, they go to “S” as often as they can, and Langa always accepts whatever beefs he’s challenged with, because that’s just the type of person he is.
And he always wins them too, because that’s also the type of person he is. Langa doesn’t care about winning, not really, but the thrill of the race? Reki knows that it’s enough for him to pull ahead of anyone.
Tonight, he’s going against a newbie: some guy who just moved to Okinawa with way more confidence than skill. (Or at least, that’s what Cherry had to say about the guy after he thrashed him.)
Most skaters, or at least most good skaters probably wouldn’t even give the guy the time of day. Or they would accept the race and then not even really try, just to prove they don’t have to.
But Langa isn’t like that. He approaches every race with complete earnestness.
Unfortunately for the guy he’s going against, Langa’s commitment to skating well every single time just makes it all the more obvious how massively different in skill level they are.
Reki watches with bated breath, even though the outcome is already set in stone. He used to be envious, but it feels so long ago now. These days, seeing Langa skate just sets his blood thrumming, just reminds him of how lucky he is to be Langa’s best friend.
The whole audience is whooping and hollering, calling out Langa’s name, but Reki is still louder than all of them. It makes Miya and Shadow roll their eyes, but Reki doesn’t care. Langa can’t hear him, obviously, but he needs to make sure that he’s the loudest nonetheless. It feels important.
Langa takes a particularly sharp turn at full speed, leaving his opponent in the dust, and Reki whoops again, before running after Shadow to take a seat in his car. They’re reaching that point in the race where, if Reki wants to be waiting at the bottom for Langa, he needs to go.
They make it just in time, running out of the car right as Langa is entering the warehouse. The other racer is nowhere in sight. Reki’s grin only grows.
Langa’s at the top of his game tonight. He doesn’t have to pull any fancy tricks, because he’s going to win no matter what, but he still does a few cool moves, mostly to show off. Reki suspects that Langa is doing it specifically for him, which makes his chest flutter.
The whole crowd is screaming, the sound deafening as it bounces around the walls of the room. Reki sees Langa’s opponent entering, but it’s too late. Langa is already crossing the finish line.
Then comes Reki’s favorite part of watching Langa race, although he’d never admit it. Reki rushes to the front of the crowd, smile stretched as wide as it will go. And there’s Langa, skating towards him with his arms held out.
Ever since his victory against Adam, Langa ends every race in Reki’s arms. The force of the impact usually leads to them sprawled on the floor, but Reki honestly couldn’t care less—not with the feeling of Langa pressed tightly against him, sighing happily into the crook of Reki’s neck.
It’s no different tonight. One moment Reki is standing there, watching Langa come towards him, and the next he’s on the ground.
He would be worried about getting a concussion, but Langa has learned to cradle the back of his skull as they go down, has figured out how to make them land so Reki doesn’t smack his head on the concrete. It’s stupid, but it lights him up from the inside.
They lay there for just a few moments, Reki’s arms gripping Langa tightly around the middle. He can feel Langa’s smile pressed into his shoulder, and it makes his stomach flip.
Reki doesn’t like to acknowledge it most of the time, but he is so gone on Langa.
And, despite how happy he is, he feels his chest pang as Langa finally pulls back and offers Reki his hand.
Because, no matter how special their relationship is to Langa, Reki knows that his feelings are something that he’ll have to keep to himself. He can’t risk it if Langa doesn’t feel the same.
So he pushes the feelings down again, and just allows himself to be happy that he’s basking in Langa’s presence at all.
4
It’s Valentine’s Day, which is always a bit of a bitter day for Reki.
He’s not mad, exactly, that he never gets anything. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to be mad, because his classmates really aren’t obligated to get him anything. Reki has never tried to reach out to any of them, and ever since Langa came to town, girls have been just about the furthest thing from his mind.
Still, it’s hard not to feel a little curl of jealousy when he sees the amount of chocolates that pile up on Langa’s desk by the end of the day.
Langa is courteous about it, (well, courteous for Langa, anyway) even offering Reki some of his chocolate. It’s definitely not that Langa can’t eat all of it—Reki has seen him eat eight burgers in a sitting—which means he wants Reki to have it out of some kind of pity. The thought only makes him feel worse.
Still, it’s a good day. There’s a bright, cheerful mood that’s pervading the school, and even the teachers seem a little more lenient than usual. Langa, despite the amount of confessions he’s getting, seems completely oblivious to everything around him. Reki grins and teases him about how much of a pain White Day is going to be. Everything feels perfect.
By the time lunch rolls around, Reki’s all but forgotten his previous distress. He and Langa have made plans to go skateboarding with Miya after school, so there’s really nothing to be upset about anyway.
Reki is rambling on about the new board he’s making as Langa stuffs his mouth with today’s sandwich. Langa doesn’t really appear to be listening, instead eyeing up Reki’s bento, but Reki doesn’t care. Even he can’t always keep Langa’s attention.
Langa finishes his lunch right as Reki is getting around to explaining the wheels he’s planning on using. He clears his throat, and Reki falls silent as he realizes Langa has something to say.
“I um,” Langa almost looks…nervous. It’s an unfamiliar expression on his usually reckless friend. “I actually—here.” He pulls something out of his bag and offers it to Reki. It takes Reki a moment to realize it’s a chocolate bar.
His hands are trembling, just a little, when he takes the gift, and he hopes Langa doesn’t notice. “Oh my god, thank you. You didn’t have to.”
Langa has something light and hopeful on his face. “Well, I mean…”
“Now I wish I had gotten you something! Sorry, I didn’t know we were doing friend Valentines.”
Langa’s face falls, almost imperceptibly. Reki doesn’t notice.
“I mean, I guess I’ll have to return the favor on White Day.” Reki grins at him, shoving the chocolate into the side of his bag. “Seriously, dude. This is great.”
Langa just nods. He seems a little miffed, although Reki isn’t quite sure why. He gives him the rest of his bento anyways, and that seems to cheer Langa up.
Even still, the rest of the day is more quiet than Reki is used to. He’ll have to check that Langa didn’t make himself sick from all that candy.
5
Reki has never really thought of himself as an Italian food kind of guy, but Joe’s cooking proves him wrong time and time again. And, as much as the man himself sighs and chastises whenever they turn up at Sia La Luce for a free dinner, he always provides.
Tonight, though, they actually planned to eat as a group, as a belated birthday celebration for Miya. Joe still whines the whole time, but most of his energy is directed towards his usual sniping at Cherry, so Reki figures he’s fine with providing the food.
The birthday boy himself is being predictably difficult about eating his own celebration dinner, but Reki managed to get him to have a few bites of penne, and a whole piece of ravioli before he started lecturing about the importance of maintaining his diet, so Reki counts it as a win.
Langa is, as usual, acting in stark contrast to Miya about food. “I’m not making more, Langa. You eat too much as it is.” Joe looks exasperated as Langa holds out his already empty plate. The food has been on the table for less than five minutes.
Cherry snorts into his wine glass. “As if you’re any better.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” And they devolve back into arguing. It’s almost peaceful.
Langa is still looking dejected, so Reki nudges his shoulder with his own. “Hey, it’s alright, dude. You can have some of mine if you want.”
“Really?” There’s a manic glint in Langa’s eye when he looks up. Reki doesn’t let it phase him, twirling some of his noodles around the fork and offering it up.
“Of course! It’s too much for me, anyways.” It’s not exactly true, but Reki likes to put a smile on Langa’s face. And sometimes, that requires lying about how much food he eats.
He’s expecting Langa to grab the fork—it’s not that weird for them to use the same utensils, they’ve done it before—but he doesn’t. Instead, he gives Reki this weird, indecipherable look, and takes him by the wrist.
“What are you—” But before he can get the question out, Langa has placed the fork between his lips, Reki still gripping the end of it.
Reki feels his face burning. He can’t take his eyes away from where Langa is slowly pulling the spaghetti off the fork with his teeth. It feels weirdly sensual.
Finally, after what feels like way longer than it probably is, Langa releases Reki’s hand.
It takes Reki a moment to remember to put his fork back down. He can’t seem to tear his eyes from Langa. “What was that for?” His voice is thinner than he wants it to be.
Langa looks at him, still chewing, and then shrugs. His face is carefully blank—more so than the usual—and Reki can’t even begin to parse out what he’s thinking.
Shadow snorts from where he’s sitting at the end of the counter, and Reki realizes that everyone else has gone quiet, watching them. That just makes him flush even further, makes him want to shove himself into his hoodie and die.
Even if Langa doesn’t realize it, surely their other friends can see how pathetic Reki is about him.
Miya looks like he’s about to say something, his mouth twisted into a sneer, but then Cherry smacks him over the head with his fan.
“No interfering.” Reki has no idea what that means, and he figures he probably doesn’t want to.
Langa is still sitting there, looking all serene. He swallows the bite, then gives Reki a hopeful look. Reki just shoves the rest of the bowl at him. He doesn’t want to have to deal with any more of this feeding him business.
It felt so intimate. Like they were actually…but Langa definitely didn’t mean it like that.
The thought makes Reki lose his appetite.
+1
The real problem with his feelings for Langa is the guilt. Reki knows, objectively, that there’s nothing he can do about it. He didn’t choose to like Langa like that. But, even still, sometimes it feels like he’s taking advantage of him.
Reki knows Langa didn’t have many friends, even before he moved to Okinawa. He knows that there are certain things Langa doesn’t understand about being friends. So, it makes Reki feel bad whenever he twists something innocuous that Langa does into a romantic context.
Because Langa doesn’t mean it like that, and he doesn’t need Reki shoving his feelings into it.
Even still, he tries not to let it affect his friendship. Yeah, sure, maybe he can’t stop himself from imagining things, or interpreting things in ways he shouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be friends with Langa. That doesn’t mean he can’t be normal around him.
That’s what he tells himself, at least, but it’s a little hard to keep that in mind when Langa is sprawled across his bed, wearing his clothes.
They’re having a sleepover at Reki’s house, which is a mundane enough occurrence that Reki doesn’t think anything of it. Langa being in his bed isn’t even that weird—it’s not like there’s a lot of space in Reki’s room for them to sit down.
The real problem is that Langa, somehow, forgot to bring sleepwear. To this sleepover.
Reki hadn’t really considered the ramifications of giving Langa his clothes at the time. He just dug up a shirt that was a little too big for him and a pair of sweatpants that were a little too small for Langa, and sent him on his way.
But now. Well, now Langa is lying on top of his covers, with Reki’s shirt riding up and exposing his midriff, and he looks so perfect like this that Reki can’t help imagining what it would be like to actually be dating. What if Langa borrowed his clothes all the time, instead of just during emergencies? What if being on Reki’s bed meant more to him than it simply being a good place to sit? What if it actually meant as much to Langa as it does to Reki?
Reki tries to push down the thoughts, tries to redirect his attention to the skating magazine in his hands. It’s not fair to Langa if he can’t get his feelings under control, because it seriously isn’t Langa’s fault. Reki shouldn’t be making it weird.
He sort of can’t help it, and that’s the worst part.
So, he pretends that he can. He tries to act like everything is normal, even if his thoughts are betraying him, and he thinks he does a pretty decent job.
“Doesn’t this board look awesome? I’d love to design something like this.” He leans back to show Langa the page he’s looking at, and carefully doesn’t think about how Langa smells like him.
Langa smiles at him—one of those smiles that makes Reki feel a little wobbly, because Langa only ever looks at Reki with them. “Yeah. I bet you could make it better, though.”
“Gee, thanks!” Reki rubs the back of his neck. Sometimes Langa will just pull out a compliment like that, and Reki never really knows how to respond. He’s not used to having someone say nice things about him all the time.
Langa is still looking at him fondly, and is, y’know, still in his clothes, and Reki has to avert his eyes. He seriously can’t handle all of this.
They continue on like that for a while; Reki periodically shows Langa sections of the magazine, and Langa manages to do something to get Reki flustered. It’s fine—normal, even. Reki has gotten used to this song and dance by now, so it doesn’t bother him too much.
Well, until it’s no longer Reki leaning into Langa’s space.
At some point, as Reki is reading his own magazine, Langa taps him in the shin with a foot.
“What’s up?”
“Here,” Langa sits up. “I found something interesting in this one.”
He’s reading an edition from the previous month, one which Reki has already scoured over several times. Langa knows this, Reki’s sure, but it doesn’t matter, because suddenly Langa is scooting forward, and—
Reki can feel the heat of Langa’s chest against his back, can hear Langa breathing, soft and slow, right beside his neck. The hairs on his arms stand on end.
“Um,” He’s not really looking at the magazine that Langa has shoved in front of his face. He tries, he really does, but Langa is just altogether too distracting. “Yeah, that’s—that’s cool.”
Langa must know that he’s not going to get anything better out of Reki, but he’s not pulling away. Reki glances over his shoulder, to try and see if something is up.
Langa is looking directly at him. There’s something almost…amused in the tilt of his mouth, like he’s—
Oh.
Like he’s doing it on purpose.
“Langa?” Reki turns all the way around to face him.
“Hm?”
“Do you…” Oh god, it’s so hard to ask. But Reki has never been the best at planning ahead, and once he gets an impulsive thought in his head, it’s really hard to shake it. “Do you like me?”
Langa just stares at him for a few seconds, and Reki’s worried he’s misinterpreted things, or, worse, Langa has misunderstood the question.
But then, Langa tilts his head. “Yes.” He says it like a question.
“No, I mean—” This is so embarrassing. It’s too late now, though. “Do you, y’know, like like me?”
“Yes.” Langa looks confused. “I thought you knew that.”
“Wha—why didn’t you say anything?!”
Langa still looks confused. “Reki. I told you I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Reki groans. “I thought that was—you know, like a friendship thing! I thought you thought it was a normal thing to say!”
Langa raises a single eyebrow at him, and it occurs to Reki how stupid that sounds.
“...You thought that I—”
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” His face is burning red. He buries it in his hands.
God, this is the worst. Here Reki was thinking that he would never get to have anything more than friendship with Langa, and it turns out that he was just missing all of the signs Langa was putting out.
The, in retrospect, really obvious signs.
Reki is considering just curling up and dying, (or at the very least leaving the country, changing his name, the usual) but then there are gentle hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face. Reki, begrudgingly, looks up and meets Langa’s eye.
There’s the slightest tinge of a blush across his cheeks. Reki feels his heart pang at how cute it is.
“Do you like me?” Langa is staring at him with that look he sometimes gets, the one that means he’s waiting for Reki to understand what he’s saying. “‘Like’ like me, I mean?”
“Isn’t that obvious?”
Langa frowns.
“Okay, okay, yeah I get it! I’m not exactly one to talk.” He takes a shaky breath. “Yes. I definitely like you, y’know, like that.”
Langa nods once. He seems pleased. “Cool.” But he’s still holding onto Reki’s wrists, eyes flickering like he's considering something.
“Dude, what—” But then Langa is tugging them backwards, so they land on the bed in a heap. Reki crashes into Langa’s chest. It reminds him of the ends of Langa’s races. He’s very warm.
Langa’s sort of nuzzling into Reki’s hair, and it’s weird but it feels really good, so Reki can’t bring himself to complain. He’s still sort of in shock; the realization that, yes, his feelings are definitely requited, he’s just been an idiot, hasn’t quite managed to sink in yet.
Reki feels Langa hum, contented, and he has to say something. “Does this…does this mean we’re dating, or whatever?” He props himself up on Langa’s chest, so he can look him in the eyes.
Langa purses his lips, considering. “I guess so. I mean, we kind of already act like a couple. Well,” Langa slips a hand to the back of Reki’s neck. Before Reki has time to question him, he’s already pecked him on the lips, so fast Reki could almost convince himself it didn’t really happen. Langa settles back down against the pillow. “Besides that.”
The noise Reki lets out is definitely manly, and definitely not squeak-adjacent. “Dude!”
“Did you not want me to do that?” Langa’s looking amused again. It’s attractive, but it also pisses Reki off.
“No, I just—agh!” Reki doesn’t bother finishing that sentence, instead leaning down to press a much more firm kiss against Langa’s mouth. Langa responds instantly, pulling Reki closer so that they’re pressed flush together. Reki gets a fistful of Langa’s hair, trying to give himself some more leverage. He doesn’t think he’s very good at this, and he’s sure Langa’s never had any experience with kissing, but it feels pretty fantastic anyways.
Eventually, they need to pull away to breathe. Reki is, embarrassingly, already panting, but it seems like Langa isn’t much better off, which is something at least.
Langa reaches up and cups Reki’s cheek with a warm palm, running his thumb over Reki’s spit-slicked lips. Reki didn’t know he could get this red. The tips of his ears are on fire.
Langa smiles at him, so very soft like Reki is the only thing worth looking at. His heart stutters in his chest.
Then, Langa ruins it by saying, “I can’t believe you thought I was being platonic this whole time. I bought you Valentine's chocolates.”
Reki doesn’t even tell Langa to shut up this time. It’s a lot easier to just make him.