Chapter Text
The rain pattered on the window, making a soft background noise. There is a grey overcast, shielding Okinawa from the Sun. Thunder sounds in the far distance—still loud enough to make Reki flinch when it booms unexpectedly. He's currently hunched over at his desk tapping his pencil on a blank sheet of paper.
His counterpart, Langa, is sprawled out on Reki's bed. Sleeping and softly snoring. His blue hair shines a calm colour; it’s a contrast Reki notices to the booming thunder and lightning outside. Probably dreaming about eating food or something—he and Usagi from Chiikawa are one in the same.
Reki on the other hand is mentally screaming FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCKK because he can’t do it outloud. He rakes a hand through his messy—yet fluffy according to Langa—red hair
Reki has been staring at the empty space for a long amount of time, too long for a simple letter—even if said letter could either make him the happiest person alive, or destroy the best friendship Reki has had in a while. Which was about an hour and a half of debating whether this a stupid idea or if this was the greatest thing to ever be thought of since the creation of skateboards.
Probably the former because, confessing to Langa Hasegawa? His best friend in the entire world? A person who knows him better than himself? The notorious Snow? One of the best skateboarders at "S" and who actually beat Adam? Langa Hasegawa who he has a major, giant, humongous crush on?
Yeah, that's insane. Langa is so much better and amazing than Reki. Why would Langa ever wanna date him? He's better off as his friend. But the thought of Langa being more..? It's something Reki would land a two point five-revolution aerial spin for. Or land a jump while going down a long flight of stairs. Or defeat Adam without the rain and the help of special wheels.
He hopes Langa isn't homophobic. He probably isn't though. Langa has made some comments about some guys at their school that Reki had read as flirtatious but he could be seeing things wrong.
Reki himself already accepted the fact he was bisexual. Just recently. When he realized he had a major, giant, humongous crush on Langa. There are a majority of negative thoughts swirling around his head. He tries not to care too much about them, they won't have to resurface if he never brings it up.
It was something he was teased about when he was younger, when he was whispered about being a little too close with the boys. He never told any of his guy crushes about, you know, being a crush of his. He was told to be ashamed of it before he knew what it was. He's met new and better people since then that helped him change his view, but it's still there. Like a stain you can't get out.
But even if he knew it, Langa didn't.
Especially what made him figure it out. That's why he's planning to confess to Langa, both about his sexuality and his crush. It'll be easier from Reki because he won't have any secrets to hide from Langa anymore.
But confessing through a letter of all things. That's childish. He should tell Langa through words instead of a middle school girl's confession on the rooftop or behind the school.
But, he soon finds out—through the multiple simulations he plays in his head to find the best outcome—in both situations, words are hard. And it's not any better that he's going to write it in English, and it is totally not because he wants to impress Langa with his terrible grammar and his worse handwriting; it's 100% because he wants it easier for Langa to read since Japanese is not his first language.
He also learns that English words are much harder than Japanese.
Why are some words pronounced the same but read differently? And why are some words spelt differently but pronounced the same? Why do the rules keep changing? Some words you add "ing" some you don't change at all. Why are some letters silent, why are they even there? Why do some words not sound at all like they look? There's even writing a letter etiquette. Why can't you just write their name, paragraphs, your name, and call it a day?
This is why out of all his classes, English is the one his grade is the lowest.
There's too many rules that are constantly changing and getting contradicted all at the same time.
This isn't the only thing stopping him from putting lines down on the paper though—other than the heavy presence of the person he wants to write about in the letter just a few feet away from him. But he has to give it to Langa, for him to then read his messy handwriting, and wait for a response. Even though the inevitable rejection will probably take a few seconds, it will feel like hours. He can feel the long wait already.
Reki also questions if that rejection will ruin their built friendship. He knows Langa wouldn't stop being friends with him just because of that, he's not that type of person. But the nagging in the back of his mind is still too loud to ignore, no matter how much he tunes it out.
He's finally pulled out of his long thoughts when Langa straightens his position on the bed and sits up.
He has a bad bed head. His soft, light blue hair slightly curled inward on one side of his face. Reki wants to stand up, walk over to the bed, and comb the hair in between his fingers. He wants to feel the softness of the strands and maybe drift down toward him, and rub his back.
Maybe they'd cuddle under the covers, maybe they'd shiver into each other from the cold outside. Maybe they'd kiss, maybe Reki would lift his hand to coax Langa's mouth open to—but before Reki's mind could think of anything that would brighten his cheeks even more red, he opened his mouth.
"Hey dude." He squeaked, way less casually than he intended it to.
Langa gives him a lazy hum as a response, then looks at the—still unplagued of any words—paper on Reki's desk, "What's that?"
Reki eyes widened with panic but then it quickly softened as he realized there's nothing to hide, he puts it out of eyesight anyway, "Nothing."
Langa looks skeptical, but chooses to ignore it. He makes room on the bed so Reki can lay down next to him for their regular routine to watch skating videos. Reki follows through with the silent command and pulls out his phone.
He tries not to think of his nose grazes against his cheek as he looks at Langa when the skater lands a difficult combo.Or Langa's leg tangling with Reki's. Or the way their shoulders are pressed together. Or when Langa's hand brushes with his when he points at the screen. Or the way Langa smiles when they look at each other and their eyes meet. Or when Langa lays his head on Reki shoulder.
Or when Reki realizes he's so far gone for his best friend.
❆❆❆
Langa and Reki were eating lunch at their usual spot on the roof. Reki was on a rant about some random thing he found in a magazine or a new truck he wanted to learn. This time he was talking about America's weird things with names.
Americans call their kids stupid things like "Bear" and "Apple" and "Blanket" and "Jake" and shit. Even the states and cities. Washington is a person, city, town, state, and the name of multiple streets. And the state is across the country from the city. Along with multiple towns and cities being named, you guessed it, Washington.
Langa was sitting in his normal nonchalance but still listening carefully to him, chirping in every now and then, in between inhaling his food, to keep the conversation going.
He doesn't enjoy the silence from someone who should never stop shining.
Especially because it happened before. He still doesn't want to forgive himself for noticing Reki's disdain for Adam and still competing against him in that stupid tournament. Sure, the beef was fun, his heart was beating the same fast speed, but it was beating for Reki. Not Adam.
How can rapidly pump for Adam when Reki is there. Adam can't even compare to Reki. Adam can't make his own boards. Adam can't entertain Langa for hours, he doesn't want him to. He doesn't want to skate infinitely with Adam. Adam didn't teach him how to skate, he did care for him like how Reki did. Adam just came later, after Reki.
Reki was just trying to protect him after all. How couldn't Langa see that? Why would Langa want to hang out with some random adult, who took a little too much liking to him, than his wonderful best friend?
His heart is beating for the one who made him this amazing in the first place The one that can do amazing things when he puts his mind to it. The one whose passion is so big, it spread into Langa. The one who taught him how to love again after his dad died.
The one who made his board to skate on—one only Langa can ride. The one who taught him skating is fun. The one who patched him up after every fall. The one who he jumped into the arms of after racing Adam. The one that makes him the happiest.
The one who cuddles up with them when they hang out. The one he steals food from—the one who lets him. The one who finds his pouting face so kissable. The one who no matter what face they make, it's always kissable. The one who he wants to kiss his pain away.
The one who Langa wants to never doubt himself again. The one who is as amazing as he thinks. The one who Langa is in love with.
His one and only, Reki Kyan.
He looked over at said person—once he was done inhaling his food—and noticed a few rouge grains of rice in the corner of his lips. A place Langa always finds himself looking at.
"—I was so confused because, what do you mean New York is in New York? Like—"
"Hold on." Langa cut him off . Though he agreed with this weird statement. Why name a city as a state—or a state a city?—but he has other, more, important things to worry about.
He leaned in until he was just a few inches away, looking at Reki’s lips. They were breathing into each other’s faces, exchanging each puff of breath. Lifted his hand to cup Reki's cheek—which felt and looked warm for some reason?—and used his thumb to wipe away the stay grains off. "You had something on your face."
He pulls his face away, his hand still lingering as he sees a group of girls giggling at them. They noticed he was aware of their obnoxiousness and turned away. He looks back at Reki and finds him in a frozen state, like a wind up toy without any turns left. He also realized that his hand was heating up due to the flushed face it was on.
Langa finally pulls away and starts to put his lunch bag away. He saw Reki was starting to get uncomfortable, he didn't need Reki to pull away from him again. Reki seems to find himself again and does the same with a slight tint of red still staining his face.
When Reki was done packing up his bento—made lovely by his mother—he had turned to Langa.
"Why do you always do that?" He mumbled.
Langa looked up, confused, "Do what?"
"Care about useless, little things, like a few grains of rice on my face, or a part of my band-aid is lifting, or I got paint on my elbow, shit like that—why?"
Langa met his eyes, "They aren't if they're you."
"What?" Reki stood up from the floor, dusted off his pants, and into the middle of the roof.
Langa followed him while continuing, "Everything about you is anything but useless or little. Everything you do seems to bring out the shine of something you'd expect to be dull. It's just... you. I don't know how else to explain it."
Reki stood there for a moment. Langa couldn't help but stare. He was telling the truth when he said Reki brought out the shine in everything.
The way stands with most of his weight on one foot, his bag casually on his shoulder, the soft breeze blowing the hair pushed back by his headband.
His face is illuminated by the break in the cloudy sky, Langa thinks of it like the heavens wanted to take a peak at how beautiful Reki was. Langa would have to agree for the second time today.
Langa was greedier than just a peak, he wanted all of him. He wished he had the right to. He was selfish, Reki would never want this—would he even think of this? He wanted a girlfriend, not a boyfriend, not Langa.
Reki parted his lips to respond but the bell rang as he did. "We should get back." Is what strained out of his already open mouth.
Langa nodded and walked himself to class with Reki. They sat back in their regular seats next to each other—Reki slumped rather than sat—and as Langa took notes, Reki did doodles in the margins of the notebook. The margins would begin to spread into the full page. Not that he noticed. Not like he’d stare at Reki. Not like he would take notes, but subconsciously always want to be taking notes on Reki instead.
Later on in class, his elbow was hit with a piece of paper. He looked down at.
wanna come to my party? The note was written in way better handwriting than he could ever accomplish, but it was still a little sloppy. It reminded him of Reki’s but he would never throw a party and if he did, he wouldn’t write Langa a note in class like this.
He looked up to try and find the origins of the note. He found a girl with dark long hair staring back, glancing at the paper. He figured with his amazing detective skills, she wrote it. He picked up his pencil again:
Why?
He lazily threw the paper back. He got a response earlier than expected.
just because. so?
He thought about it. Can I bring someone and when?
Sure and this sunday. She drew a cat with a small smile.
Thanks. Langa expected it to be over, but he was hit with the paper again.
who though?
Kyan Reki
k just wanted to know
Langa thought of this weird experience for a little longer before he continued to take notes—unfortunately not about Reki.
❂❂❂
Reki drew random things in his notebook—mostly just Langa, new designs for Langa's skateboard, Langa's little yeti avatar. Completely random. It filled the entire page. When he leaned back to admire his work, he realized something. Holy.
He filled the entire page. This normally wouldn't shock him as he does this every day. But he could not write a single word about Langa but fill the page up with doodles with figures of Langa??
There's no doubt he has things to say about him—a lot of things—but it's almost impossible to put it into words. How does one describe something as perfect as Langa? It is simply not simple. Nothing about Langa is simple, the absolute opposite.
He looks to his right and sees none other than Langa himself, taking notes in a somehow mesmerizing way. Seriously, what? How can he do that so easily?
The way his face was shaped by the early afternoon sun was almost like someone hired the sun to paint Langa's face like that on purpose, just to tease Reki about how crazy he was.
He could go on and on. He does everything easily. Whether it's skateboarding or just standing. How does he do that? And why is it just that Reki is the only one under his spell? Like he was bewitched or something.
No one else in their class seemed to mind Langa unless he did something cool like hit a shot across the soccer field or got the answer right on popcorn calling. No matter what Langa was doing, he was always amazing to Reki.
It was also the last period of the day, and he was dreading going home to do homework. But yet, with Langa, it felt like he wouldn't want to spend another second at school when they could be at home, in bed, cuddling in bed.
In class he saw Langa and this girl exchange a piece of paper. He has no clue what it was though. He will have to ask later.
Reki doesn't remember when he turned back to his paper. But he does remember when the bell rang and when he put the last line on Langa's well drawn hair.
"Reki you ready to—" Langa stopped when he saw Reki's paper. He was confused to see himself—not just his yeti—all over. Reki must've imagined it but it looked like he was blushing, but he did not imagine the small teasing smile Langa had on. "Is that me?—"
"No!" Reki squeaked. "It's—uh—just some new board ideas!"
Langa lifted his finger to point at the graphite smeared page in between Reki's elbow. Reki saw his small smile turn up toward "Then what's—"
"Nothing! Let's go!" Reki shoved everything back in his bag, grabbed Langa's wrist away.
Langa pulled said wrist up and Reki flew up out of his seat and into Langa's body. Reki looked up at Langa's somehow almost blank face. While Reki didn't need a mirror to know his face looked redder just as red—or more—as his hair. Langa smiled as Reki turned away and walked out the classroom down with him.
Once they got out of the school doors, they both hopped on their boards following their daily routine to hang out. They decided to just go to Reki's house and do random things in his room until it was time for Langa to go home.
They threw their stuff down on the floor and settled down. Langa sat down on the bed, tired from running then skating without breaks. Reki slumped in between his legs, his shoulders meeting Langa's thighs. Reki brought out his phone to start the usual. It wasn't an unusual position.
Reki was holding his phone on his knees while playing with a loose string he found gods know where. Langa was watching the video over Reki's head and braiding his hair. He then brushed out the braids to replace them with new ones. When Langa would pull his hair too hard, Reki would feel his cold fingers massage his head for a few seconds.
This action was an apology, to make it up to him. But pulling him hard was that much of a deal. Maybe Langa can't read that. Still, it wasn't right for Reki to enjoy it so much. Did Langa even want to? Did he feel forced to comfort him and it was the only thing he could think of? Did Langa hate—"
"Hey Reki?"
Reki looked up at Langa, who was still playing with his red hair, "Yeah dude?"
"Some girl—foreign girl from America—in our class invited me to a party at her house. It's in three days. She said I could bring a plus one, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with..?" Langa’s hand drifted down Reki’s face, the other entangled into the roots of his hair.
Reki knew without having to see the girl that she only wanted Langa to come and not Reki. Who would? Does Langa even want him there? Is he only doing it out of pity? Is it because—
Stop, he told himself. Langa wouldn't do that. I shouldn't be like Miya's old friends and leave just because he's popular.
So, he agreed.
"Yeah sure why not? I'm sure it'll be fun."
Langa rubbed his thumb across the underside of Reki's eye, his whole hand resting on the rest of his face. He seemed lost in thought—Reki did not mind at all. "Cool."
"Cool." Reki replied with a shaky breath.
He leaned down a little closer to Reki's face, studying it like he had to draw it by memory as his final exam. Langa's eyes kept dipping down to the lower part of his face for some reason. Reki was lost in his—favorite—eyes again, the icy blue softly staring back.
Langa looked like he finally decided to speak his mind, eyes fluttering down half way. "Reki, I—"
"Reki! Are you home?" His mother shouted as she opened the door.
Reki felt his face heat up as he jumped up from his comfortable position to go welcome his mom. He looked back at Langa to see his troubled face was back—Reki hated this look on him.
He'll worry later. Later being soon because he almost just spilled his guts out right there. Langa looked at Reki like he wanted him back that way. Like Langa could care for Reki for anything more than a friend. Even if this is true. Reki fears he wouldn't be able to ever stop.
"Reki!"
It calls him out of his thoughts as he goes down the hall to greet his waiting mother.
❆❆❆
Langa did it. He asked Reki out on a date. And he said yes. This is the best thing ever. Sure it may be at someone else's party and they weren't going to do anything, but it's Reki and Langa who are gonna be hanging out at said party. He would call it a half win.
Another victory. It was funny, he still thought this way too. It was so long ago—What was it? Eight months ago?—he had met Reki. He smiles at the memory.
When Reki first flew over him like it was nothing. How he fell on his butt after trying to get on a skateboard for the first time. How he felt his mouth turn when he landed his first ollie. Especially when Reki had held his hand so gently when he fell on them just a few moments earlier.
While Reki was gone, Langa laid on his back in Reki's bed. He left enough room for them to cuddle as they normally do. Reki came back shortly and went into his position, laying on his side with his hand rubbing soft circles below Langa's sternum, and propped up on his elbow, slightly looming over him.
"My mom said yes to the party. I just need to get a ride—which hey! What are skateboards for! So yeah.. You said three days until the party, wow that's pretty close. Why couldn’t you tell me earlier?"
Langa could pay attention to what Reki was saying—except for hearing the awkward and hesitant voice Reki never used—because of what Reki was doing.
The hand that wasn't on his chest was playing with his short, blue hair, fingers grazing his scalp. Reki's eyes were looking everywhere on Langa's body except his eyes. Both calming him. He closed his eyes, but couldn't keep them closed for long.
It's too long a time without looking at Reki's soft hazel eyes. Instead he opted for slow blinking. That thought reminded him of cats, how slow blinking means they love you. It's kinda cliche, but it's true. He does really love Reki.
Everything about him.
It's extremely hard to not reach over and kiss Reki's soft lips and his cheeks and his eye lids and everywhere else he can. Everything about Reki is so soft.
Like when Langa tripped in his early days of skateboarding, and Reki had patched his fingers up. His hands were so soft.
Reki's hand moved farther up his scalp. If Langa was a cat, he'd probably be purring just about now.
"Langa."
Reki's face was studying his, waiting for a response. Langa was too busy thinking about RekiRekiRekiReki from this heavenly angle to give a response.
"Langa."
"Yeah?" He finally snapped out of the trance.
Reki looked conflicted. He sat up. Langa felt slightly disappointed to feel his fingers leave. Langa sat up with him.
"This foreign girl wanted you to go. You know and you're popular and what not, so I just think—"
"No." Langa replied with a stern look.
Reki tilted his head forward in confusion. "No?"
Langa stood his ground, "I'm not going to." He hated disagreeing with Reki, but this time he knew he was right.
"You don't even know what I was gonna say. I didn't finish the sentence."
Langa had a softer look, matching his voice. "You didn't have to. I know what you were going to say. 'You won't have fun with me' or 'The girls don't want me, they want you' when anyone would be lucky to have you. Or even be your friend. It's amazing you let me. And confusing because why don't you have more friends at school than just me?"
Reki looked away. His voice dropped—practically whispering—when he spoke up again. "Everyone thinks—everyone can't handle me. They don't want to. They aren't you, Langa."
Langa turned and held both of Reki's hands in his. "But you're you. Is that not enough?"
Reki looked away. "Everyone has their standards."
Langa urged him. "When I came here, I was empty. I didn’t think I would try to interact with anyone here. But I didn’t need to, you came into my life and I wouldn’t want it without you. You saved me Reki. If I tried to make a new friend now, the bar would be pretty high. One you could reach it."
Reki didn't reply.
"Fine, if you aren't going then I'm not either."
Reki looked panicked and turned to him, pushing their hands together. "Then you won't meet anyone! How will you get a girlfriend if you just hang out with me?" He said 'me' like he was the problem, himself as a whole is a mistake.
"I told you," Langa said while slotting their fingers together, "it's a line only you can cross."
Reki looked away again. Langa chased after, he took one of his hands away to cup Reki's cheek to turn his head towards him. Langa saw his eyes were watery.
"Reki, my lo—"
Langa's ringtone went off. Langa didn't pull his hand away from his cheek when he answered, leaving Reki's hands to do nothing but play with the sheets.
"Hello, mom?" A pause, Langa was rubbing Reki's cheek with his thumb, brushing away a stray tear. "Oh.. yeah, okay I'll be home soon." He hung up the phone and looked back to Reki. He really, really didn’t want to leave. "I'm sorry—"
"It's okay. Go back home."
Words crawled up his throat. But this is home.
"Okay." Is what came out instead. He crawled off the bed and turned to Reki. Langa dropped his hand to dab Reki up, but by the fist bump, Langa let his hand hit Reki's chest. "Promise you'll be okay."
Reki looked down at his chest like he remembered something from the past, back up, then croaked, "Yeah."
Langa nodded, then paused. He lifted his hand to cup Reki's cheek again. He leaned down and kissed his cheek where a tear was falling. Langa lingered his forehead against Reki's before he then left the room.
❂❂❂
Once Langa closed the door, Reki had a small resentment towards Reki's mother and his own for interrupting them twice.
But that kiss? Oh my gods, Reki might just explode. But he had to calm himself because it was probably platonic. How did he come to this conclusion you may ask?
Langa is from Canada. A lot of people in Canada are European. So Langa is basically European. European people kiss their friends a lot—right?—plus Reki was crying so he tried to comfort him. It was nothing.
But still, Reki knew more now than ever that he needed to write that letter.
He went to his desk and found the sheet of paper from earlier in the week. He grabbed a random pen and stared at the paper just like last time.
He needed to let Langa know, hey I'm in love with you and you have been sending me signs that you do too! So I'm just curious, would you take me as your boyfriend because I love you so freaking much and I promise I will never hurt you—at least on purpose—and I can make you as many skateboards as you want, whatever, just please?
But wait, he can't do that, you know why? English says so. So he has to start off with:
Dear Langa,
Wait, shouldn't he say " Dear love? Or Dear the person who has taken up 100% of my thoughts? It doesn't matter, he'll just continue.
I don't know how to write, but I'll try if it means I can get my point across. And by point I mean that I am madly in love with you and have a crush on you.
Why did he write in pen.. Now if Langa just looks hard enough he can see it. He scribbled over it again just in case.
And I hope that you don't find this weird and stop being friends with me.
Do I sound whiney? I totally do. Damn my hand writing sucks, I didn't think it was this bad.
You can totally have other friends though. I know you said there's a bar only I can reach, but there's way more people that are better than me.
True. Reki’s mind seems to say.
And if you somehow like me back, I would like it if you would go out with me.
He definitely doesn't but what is he writing this for?
Since this is a love letter, I'll explain why I'm so hopeless for you I have a crush on you. Just please, whatever your reaction is, don't let it ruin us. I can't handle it if that does happen.
He flipped the page and started to number it. He meant to stop at atleast five, but he couldn't stop listing how he loves him so much. How did he do it? He managed to get so 50 and decided that he needed to move on to the next part.
They way I can keep going to one–hundred and you still wouldn't be able to get to 2 or anything else. You'll still only see me as a friend. But, I've come to terms with that. I just need to get this off my chest.
I’ve felt this way since your beef with Shadow. When you jumped over the crowd and across the finish line, it felt like it was only you in the world. Just you and the fireworks/bombs’ ashes falling like snow.
This crush will go away soon, I swear. Then we can continue to be best friends. Like this letter doesn't even exist. Thanks Langa.
Your best friend,
Love, Reki
Reki wanted to put more, but he wasn't in love. This was a crush, he didn't need to write an essay—though he totally could, he would never admit. It was just a single page to get over this.
Even after listing all of it, he still saw that it was a short letter, most of it is just his giant handwriting. He feels guilt but quickly pushes it away.
He folded two sheets of paper and put—shoved—in his drawer. Writing each number felt so easy, easier than anything he's done before besides breath. He got to fifty so fast he barely even wrote two. It was common sense to Reki.
Now that Reki was brave enough to write it, he has to give it to Langa. What better place to do it than at the party. It is loud and chaotic and if Langa rejects him, he always has alcohol. Even if they aren't serving it, he still has the ability to find sake anyway.
It was now two days. Two days before he was in the cramped house and watched Langa get pulled away from him by everyone there. He went to school as was met with—no one. Langa wasn't there. Reki has to go through the entire day, alone.
Gods, this will be a long day.
Reki navigates through the dangerous halls. Trying to avoid any eye contact at all, while also trying to remain unseen.
He makes it to class after a grueling 4 minutes of walking, without Langa by his side. He sits down in his normal seat without his normal person next to him.
The lecture starts and so does Reki’s boredom. So, he let his mind wander—always a bad thing. It’s unpredictable. No chance to guess where it goes. He wishes his mind was clear like glass and nothing in his bones. Everything felt too heavy.
Even when he lies down, it feels like he sinks into his bed—while staring at the ceiling—when really he just makes his usual dent into the mattress.
It feels..weird.
He’s surrounded by his friends—Langa, Miya, Cherry, Joe, Shadow—but he still feels like he skates alone. He felt better since Langa skated against Adam and won, but it doesn’t change the fact that they can skate faster and better than him.
He recently went back to that graffiti star under the bridge and tried the trick again. He still can’t do it. It’s been a few months since he first attempted it. Langa did it on the first try. How can his years of snowboarding just transfer to skateboarding so easily?
How can he just be like that so easily? How can he just be so—
And like that, Reki somehow makes it through class into the lunch hour—it’s not really that hard, he just stares out the window. He got up from his desk and headed down the hall to the rooftop to eat his bento—alone he might add. He hangs a left and there’s the exchange student, the foreign girl Langa was talking about.
Her name was Christmas or something. She was talking in a hushed circle with two of her friends. Reki undoes his turn and goes back against the corner. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help that they were talking about him, Reki.
A girl with a bratty voice spoke first, “Dude, you know that Red head that always hangs around Langa—what was his name?”
“It was Reki.” Christmas said, pronouncing Reki with every syllable—the little syllables it has.
“How do you know that, Christine?” Oh, her name isn’t Christmas?
Reki hears Christine give a loud sigh. “Langa talks about him all the time. It’s such a drag. I have had only a few conversations with him, but in every sentence, ‘Reki’s cool too’ ‘You should see Reki skate’ ‘DId you see Reki—’ blah, blah, blah. When does he ever shut up about that fa—”
The three girls give a collective giggle. Reki feels his cheeks get warmer, in embarrassment, anger, he’s flustered. Big on flustered, but it feels off. He should feel flattered that Langa talks about him all the time. He does, but he just feels heavy again. What was she about to say at the end?
He tightens his grip on the bento to keep it from slipping.
Christine opened her big mouth again, “Also, Langa said that Reki would be coming to my party.”
“Really? Why?” The bratty voice spoke again.
“No clue. But that was the one of the first things he asked me.”
“They are, like, always together.”
“Oh my gosh! Guys, wait until I tell you what I saw.” A new voice peeped up.
“What is it, Mahiro?!” Both the bratty voice and Chirstine spoke up.
“Yesterday at lunch, I saw Langa hold Reki’s face with his hand—and he was really fucking close to his face!—they looked like they were about to kiss!” Mahiro excitedly tells.
Oh, that from yesterday. Don’t tell me just cause’ I was clumsy Langa will be bullied for being—
He can't bring himself to finish that though. Being what? Gay? But. that’s not what it was. He was just being a good friend and he didn’t have a napkin.
“Dude,” the bratty voice, “they're way too close. Don’t tell me—” She cut herself off with her obnoxious giggles.
“Sayaka, you think they’re—” she lowered her voice, “—dating?”
Christine finally ended the conversation, “Don’t say that! I still want a chance with him! He’s too good looking to not like girls. Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” And with that, Reki hears their footsteps hurry away.
On the contrary, Reki stays leaning against the wall.
He’s too good looking to not like girls.
Right, Langa isn’t gay. He wants a girlfriend. He will probably find one at Curtain’s party—probably Church. Christine, right.
If Reki goes with him, Sockya or Mash–Hero—wait, wasn’t it Sayaka and Mahiro?—will have already told everyone that they’re dating or whatever, and Langa won’t be able to talk to any girls who think he’s straight.
If Reki goes without him—well, Langa wouldn’t even go to the party. Then, Langa speaks to no one until the next day. They ask him, “Where were you?” Then he says, “Hanging out with the guy that I am so close with, you guys think we're dating.” Then it will falsely confirm their suspicions and Langa will have one friend and no girlfriend for the rest of high school.What’s he supposed to do?
Reki slumps down onto the floor as a few guys turn the corner to where he sits. As they pass, Reki notes they stink, like, really fucking stink. They either came from the bathroom or P.E.
Reki must be crazy because that just gave him an idea. When they go to the party, Reki will immediately go to the bathroom. Langa stays out to socialize, while Reki sits on the toilet seat on his phone.
Cool. Now time to just figure out how to get away from Langa long enough until it would be time to leave. He agrees with Sayaprika, Langa hangs out around him a lot.
He somehow sits there on the floor until lunch ends. He had opened his bento to eat there, but after hearing that conversation with the girls, even his tongue felt too heavy to eat properly.
He gets up from the wooden floor and lets his muscle memory take him back to class. He felt too tired to even think or command signals to his legs to be able to move. Reki makes it back to his seat and gets ready to sit through the next few hours.
He’s too good looking to not like girls.
❆❆❆
Langa was sitting on his bed, which was placed in the middle of his room, with a towel on his forehead and cough drops on his bedside table. His limbs were like lead so he couldn’t use his phone. That was a shame because he can’t text or call Reki.
Which is the only thing he has been thinking about the entire day.
Everything he thought of led to Reki or something about him.
Mom’s at work, I wonder what Mrs. Kyan is doing..
I wonder if it’s possible to still go fast in the rain without the tracks on the wheels.. Would you wipe out..? I’ll ask Reki later..
It’s so quiet here.. Reki’s siblings make the house shake with noise..
I have school.. I can’t ask Reki for notes, he doesn’t do anything..
Reki..
If he’s being completely honest, it’s more tiring to think of Reki and not have him by his side, than it is to be bed ridden sick. Langa is—unfortunately—missing Reki. If he musters up enough strength, he can pick up his phone, and text Reki.
He turns his head to the side and sees none other than his phone charging. He lifts up the blanket and reaches his arm out. The phone falls off the table and hangs by only the charging cord. Langa groans. He wants to give up, but then remembers that, well, Reki.
That’s all he needs.
He then pulls it up like reeling in a fishing line. He gets it back and lies in his previous position.
He has a few notifications from the weather and some social media apps—mass following for some reason??—but he doesn’t care. He scrolls until he finds his texting app and sees Reki at the top—which isn’t saying a lot since he only has Reki, his mom, the manager at Dope Sketch: Oka, and Christine. In that exact order from top to bottom.
He got her number in his shoe locker from yesterday. He didn’t get to decide if he should take it or not because Reki had already pulled him along while he still had it in his hands.
He clicked on Reki :3—Reki put the face—and typed:
wanna hang out today after you get out from school
I know I'm sick but still?
He waited a few minutes until:
Sure :3
Let me get out of class first
I still need my attendance so my mom doesn’t get on me
Langa stared at the text for a little. It was normal for them to say I love you at the end of each conversation. Langa can scroll up their chat and see they both say it back. It just feels good and a little strange to see it from his—small insignificant short-lasting—crush. Where is it? Maybe the conversation isn't over. He’ll say it anyway.
love you
Reki hearted the message before Langa closed the app and checked the time.
2:16 pm
He would have to wait forty-four minutes and then however long it takes Reki to get to Langa’s apartment. All he has to do is be Penelope and wait for his Odysseus to get home—because yes, waiting around fifty minutes to an hour is twenty years.
After what felt like twenty years, he heard the door open. Reki got a key to his apartment a while back so it wasn’t a concern. Langa heard padded footsteps to his room and saw the door open to his favorite—his only—redhead. Langa smiled in a sickly soft way. Reki, in a distant, polite one.
“Hey Reki.”
“Hey. How you doin’ after not moving all day?” His voice was weirdly empty.
Langa vaguely gestures to the blanket on the floor next to his feet. “Okay.” Reki looks confused and sad. Langa reads his face and responds, “I don’t want you to get sick.”
“I don’t care, Langa.” Reki devoidly says this and plops down next to him, half sitting on Langa’s hand. Reki hardens his body as he feels it. It hastily moved away from the hand, away from Langa.
Langa decides to talk about the elephant that was kinda in the room.
“Well.. um.. How do you feel about the party in two days..?”
Reki visibly stiffened again—which is amazing because he was already pretty stiff before. Why? Langa thought.
Reki robotically stuttered out, “Oh um, that. Yeah, I’m.. coool about it. Uh, what time is it at?”
Langa hummed, thinking. “I don’t know, I’ll ask her—Christine.”
“Who— Ohh, Christmas—How? You won’t see her until the party.” Reki had this puzzled look on his face. Wouldn’t it be obvious though?
“..I have her number?” Langa said it more as a statement than a question.
Reki looked saddened. “Oh, right. So, uh, text her.” He said it like he was hurt every syllable to say, text her.
Langa pulled out his phone and followed what Reki told him. He waited for a response.
Within a few minutes, he recited out loud, “This Sunday, @5:30. But you can arrive @5:00.” Langa looks at the phone in confusion. Reki reads his phone, then his face and gives a loud sigh before leaving against the headboard with closed eyes.
“She probably wants to have sex or something.”
Langa shoots up in his sitting position, “What!?”
Reki sighs again and begins his explanation, “Christine wants you to arrive early to a public event. This means she wants to do something with you that shouldn’t really be done in public. Sex—or making out—whatever.”
Langa looked at Reki’s calm and bored expression, like he had to give this information out many times before and is expecting more times to come. How can he be so chill about something like that? Maybe it’s because he’s not the one who just got invited to have sex with someone he doesn’t know.
“You gonna go?”
Langa looked at him incredulously. “No, obviously. I don’t even know her.” Langa leans against the headboard, his shoulder colliding with Reki’s.
“So?” Reki finally peeped his eyes to look at Langa.
“What do you mean ‘So’? Se—That is to be done with someone you trust and care about. Isn’t it? She doesn’t trust me and I don’t trust her—I don’t want to and not like that.”
Reki sat up. “I mean, yeah. People do that. But Christine probably just does it for pleasure.”
Langa shivers in disgust. From both the conversation and something else. This whole thing made him forget he was sick until he almost vomited his guts out on his bedsheets, coughing. He leaned over his bedside to where the conveniently placed bucket was. He felt a hand on his back.
“Oh, sorry dude..” Reki muttered.
Langa wiped his mouth with—again—a conveniently placed towel. Gods, Langa loves his mom. “It’s—ugh—okay.” His wobbly voice says otherwise. He softens it so his next command won’t sound so harsh. “It wasn’t your fault. Get off my bed before you get sick too.”
Reki exaggerated a groan and dramatically pulled himself off the bed. Langa laughed. “Finee. I guesss you can kick me out of bed. Goshh.” Every word seemed to be dragged in false dread—but with the way Reki has been acting, is it really false?
“I’m sorry, Reki.” Langa’s giggles in his voice betrayed his apology. When he stopped his fit of giggles and looked at Reki in the eyes, he found him staring right back. Reki quickly looked away. His face filled with something between fear and shame. It fell away as fast as it rose on his face. What's up with Reki today?
“Well, anyway—” Reki said, rather strained, like trying to change the subject as quickly as possible, ”—can I stay the night? I really don’t feel like—”
“Of course, you don’t needa’ ask.”
A soft blush freckles Reki’s already freckled face. Does Reki even know what he does to Langa? He must know. Why else would he be so lovely?
Reki looked up at him with his big hazel eyes that always seemed to be shining. Except they weren’t.
Where did it go..? Where’s the face he knew so well? Where’s the I love you? Who is this person? He was fine the day before, wasn’t he? What happened at school? What happened when Langa wasn’t there for Reki? Where’s Reki? It’s like someone went into disguise as Reki and did a horrible job to remember that Langa would catch them.
Always and forever, Langa will remember the way Reki’s eyes shine. He’ll remember every single detail that Reki could display.
He didn't need to take notes on Reki in class. He also didn’t need a reminder on the chalkboard to know this was a test to see if Langa could see what was up with Reki. That part was easy, he watched Reki every day and second he could. The real problem was if he could answer correctly.
Would Reki open up to him, or will Langa be pushed away again?
Langa shook himself from his thoughts and started to get up. “I’ll grab the futon then.”
They would normally share a bed, but without saying anything, they both rather not share a bed. Laying in Langa’s sickness, with a thick scent of sweat did not sound great. A separate bed would be best for both of them.
Reki sprang up from the spot on the floor and jumped in front of Langa. “You’re sick! And also I don’t want you to be throwing up everywhere.”
“That was—”
“One time, yeah yeah, I don’t care. But what I do care about is your mom coming back home finding her son hunched over the toilet with his dinner from last night, breakfast, and lunch covering every square inch of her apartment.”
Langa smiled to himself, that’s more like Reki. A small victory. He let himself be pushed onto the bed. He mumbled a response, “You and your ways with words..”
“Thank you.”
Reki came back after a short little while, but so did his downpour attitude. He laid his futon on the opposite side of the bucket and about three feet away from the bed frame. When Langa asked him why, he responded that if Langa got confused about which side had the bucket, he didn’t want to be showered with Ms. Hasegawa’s cooking in a half digested form.
Langa laughed at the wording again before reaching up the bed for his phone. He read the time on his phone while Reki made his bed. 3:38 pm. A long time before it was time to let his body rest. But he felt he couldn’t wait for it to happen.
It seemed rude. Reki was clearly having a hard time mentally and all Langa wanted to do was to sleep. He couldn’t help it, his blinks were becoming slower and heavier to lift.
Reki looked over at Langa. It was the last thing he saw, but soon heard footsteps pad over and felt Reki’s gentle hand brush his bangs out of the way and rest it on Langa's heated cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Langa lets his head fall into Reki’s palm and with all of his strength he lifts his hand to hold Reki’s there.
He tried his best to stay awake at least, he doesn’t want to leave Reki in a state like this. Not like this.. He’s an overthinker.. Being alone will make him think things that aren’t true..
❂❂❂
He’s too good looking not to like girls
For the first time since he heard that sentence, Reki has doubted it. Because he’s too good looking not to like guys. But Reki is really just greedy. At the same time, everyone else is greedy for Langa—and reasonably too. Reki is just lucky enough to be the one being held hostage against Langa with no real threat but his own feelings.
Reki is stuck between leaving the room because he doesn’t wanna get sick, and climbing into bed and getting sick so they could stay home on Sunday. He also wants to stay still and stare at Langa’s flushed face—his own face probably matching.
Gods, he’s so pretty..
Reki can’t tell if he said that out loud but either way, no one heard it. Reki mixed all the options and decided to leave the room.. after he tucked Langa in. He was situated on the edge of the bed, the bare minimum so he wouldn't fall off. Then he left.. after he kissed Langa on the forehead again. Well, okay he admits it was more than one time and not just on his forehead. Anywhere on his head but his lips.
From what Reki can tell, Langa is 3/5 asleep and 2/5 conscious. Very specific but he has been staring at the evidence for a while—in between kisses—to know exactly what fractions. Reki hopes that Langa thinks this is okay and/or forgets everything.
He leans away from Langa and gives a quick prayer that he actually gets sick. He eventually leaves the room into fresh air. He takes a big gulp of it and feels relieved after drowning in sickness—one he hopes he catches..
Reki opened the eyes he didn’t know he closed and saw Langa’s mom, Nanko Hasegawa—but more like her back, like she was walking away from where she was. Reki stiffens again, even at the familiar figure.
Nanako turns around and sees Reki and blushes.
Huh. Well that’s weird.
She must’ve noticed his stiff posture and weird face. “Woah—you okay Reki? Are you sick?” She steps forward. Reki gestures for her to stop.
“Yeah I am—okay, I mean.” He unfortunately can’t control the lack of emotion in his voice before he opens his mouth.
“Are you sure? Come sit down.” Nanako urges him to sit at the table and without any words, goes to make tea. She picks up a red teakettle and fills it with water.
The air is awkward for a moment or two. Just the sounds of water starting to boil. Reki thinks the tension is because of his weird behavior before. It probably is. He’ll just apologize for it and—
“Are you dating Langa?”
What. Reki coughs violently on nothing but air, then screams, “What?! I—no.. what are you—what are you talking about?”
“I saw you kiss him all over his face,” Nanako sees Reki’s mouth open, "and before you say anything to deny it, just know, I don’t mind it.” Reki’s mouth stays open. “I’ve had my suspicions before and I guess they were true.”
“Mrs. Hasegawa, I swear it’s not like that—”
“Then why—”
“I don’t know!” Reki doesn’t need a mirror to tell his face is about as red as the teakettle. Just the thought of dating Langa.. Reki didn’t choose what came out of his mouth next. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to..you know?”
Why did I say that? Langa and I aren’t even—!
Nanako sighs, “I already told you it’s okay. It’s better than okay. When Oliver—his dad—died.. he was so empty. Then, he came home showered with bandaids telling me about this red–head kid who is just amazing at skateboarding.
“After that, he just kept talking about Reki. He asked about when you ruin a relationship or something—it was so long ago, was it?—and I thought he was talking about a girl, as a crush. But it was just you.” Nanako smiles softly. She looked at Reki before continuing.
“Anyway, I just wanna thank you for being there for him. And just.. continue to keep him happy.. He’s most happy when with you, I've seen. “
Reki didn’t know what to say. Continue to lie or tell the truth and disappoint her? He was kissing Langa because he couldn’t help himself and Langa had just leaned into it—because he was tired, not that he wanted it. Not because his biggest dream came true. But, when he looks at Nanako’s soft, concerned face.. He can’t help but say:
“Yeah. I will. You don’t have to worry.”
A little while later, Reki works up the courage to return to the room. He opens the door to find Langa still sleeping, holding the bunched up blankets to his chest. Sleeping softly.
Reki walks by him, moves the bucket, and checks the time. Talking with Nanako feels like forever. She kept going on about nothing and everything at the same time. 4:59 pm, then a few seconds later—yes he waited, who wouldn’t, it’s just a minute—5:00 pm.
So, Nanako really does talk forever. It took around a little more than an hour. Well, she fed him and forced tea down his throat.
He’s too good looking not to like girls
Gods, will his brain ever shut up. Christchurch was a bitch anyway. Sokka and Meh–iro too.
They should stop the party before someone named Jake or Bear or Blanket or Apple comes along from America with twenty–five kilos of burgers and fries and their three–hundred fifty kilo–self and crashes the party—literally.
If Europe didn’t colonize literally every piece of land, Christ–whatever wouldn’t be here. Well, never mind because a lot of things wouldn’t be here. Like cultures being different, religions, probably, and languages were mixed up with others.
Why almost everywhere around the world has people from different countries. It was because of slaves being shipped away—wait what?
How the hell did calling Christchurch a bitch turn into a history lesson? How does he know this much stuff about history, let alone American/European history?
Whatever, he has better things to think about. Just as soon as he remembers what. Gosh what could it have possibly been—
He looked back to Langa, who was still asleep.
Oh.
Oh.
Reki was staring at a black, turned off phone screen for the past six minutes thinking about how bad America’s culture is. It’s amazing how he managed to ignore such beauty. What a great amount of time spent. How productive. He thought bitterly.
He’s too good looking not to like girls
(He’s too good looking for his own good.)
Reki was so productive in the moments he was in deep thought. So much so, he forgot all about the party and the inevitable fate of hiding in the bathroom for gods know how long. Reki looks at Langa again. His peaceful face tells Reki everything he needs to know about what he’s dreaming.
He still wants to know for himself. Reki wants to hear about all his dreams from now on.
Reki lays his head on the spot below the sternum on Langa’s chest, puts his hand over Langa’s palm—his other playing with the sheets—and rubs circles. They are very close physically. But emotionally, they continue to walk the lines of lovers and best friends, what are we and we are everything.
Reki wants to close the gap, the ever growing void that separates the two lines that are parallel. He wants the lines to become adjacent in the middle, or merge to be one. Even as they get closer over the time they know each other, Reki still can’t understand where and what Langa thinks.
He still can’t understand if Langa is trying to cross that void too.
It’s some of Reki’s fault, he’s hot and cold, yes then no. But, it’s all to make sure Langa does get overwhelmed or something, or leaves. That would be the opposite of the ending Reki is trying to achieve. Reki can’t imagine a future without Langa in it. It’s so pathetic that Reki depends so heavily on Langa.
Reki wishes he never knew what it felt like to be addicted to Langa.
What it feels like to love this way. How it feels to live and experience returned love. He wishes he knew how to get rid of the buzzing feeling whenever he hears Langa laugh. He wishes Langa wasn’t one of the only things that actually made him happy.
But at the same time, Reki wishes he lived in a world where he could do all these things.
What would it be like to live with it, instead of wishing it was never real? What would life be like if Reki could love whoever he wants? What if people stopped pretending? What would life be if everyone stopped judging and lived life as intended? Freely?
Reki asks these questions freely, out into the universe. The constellations give no reply. Reki now wishes he wrote these thoughts on the letter he wrote for Langa. But yet somehow, Reki begins to think that he might not have to say these things for Langa to understand it.
He doesn’t want to admit it—admit to loving Langa—but it shows in the actions they do to and for each other. The shared looks that say everything words don’t. The light brush of skin yet heavy thoughts after.
But Reki also will always have the voice in his head that screams at him to stop. Stay friends, it’s better for everyone that way. Easier for people to understand. Simple for the outside world to think about.
But that path is never and will never be wanted. Reki knows with his soul and heart what he wants, what he needs.
And at the same time:
“Langa..”
“Reki..”