Hypervigilance
Title: Hypervigilance (CH Ten 1/2)
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: M
Pairing: Riku/Sora
Genre: Romance, General Angst
Summary: In the uncertain world of adults, Sora and Riku attempt to patch together their shaky relationship after almost 5 years apart. It's about love and hate and lost trust, set in a world where the magic has run dry and the boys see each for who they really are.
Warning; Smut, Language
Hypervigilance
Chapter 10: Hysteria
-
The sun was high and saying it was hot was an understatement.
Riku let out a long breath, inhaling deeply for his lung's sake as he sat heavily on the hot gravel. He pulled his mask down under his chin, stretching his legs out in front of him while trying to ignore the hot rocks pushing sharp little angles into the back of his thighs.
The roof of the apartment building was one of those big, square expanses of blacktop that absorbed insane amounts of heat, covered in cheap tan rocks with a tiny corner of green makeshift garden that some nobody tended to. A little patch of dirt full of the planet's most resistant-to-die plants known to man. They had to be, if they could survive up here. It was like a coal-tar desert.
Riku was supposed to be doing real estate right now. Sienna insisted he get a new apartment, preferably one in a safer neighborhood, and with enough space for entertaining. Apparently, mild fame, popularity and money had its drawbacks, especially if he was expected to host parties on a regular basis. Not that he really minded parties, it was the strangers in his home that he wasn't too keen on.
So, he was hiding. And practicing some old techniques he had forgotten about.
It was obvious that Riku preferred acrylics and a brush; he even used oils frequently, despite the lengthy drying time. Charcoal was a personal favorite as well, only because he really got to work with his hands, which was always a plus. Anything he could handle directly with his own fingers-pastel sticks, colored pencils-were his usual tools of creating. Once, when munny was tight and he was just starting out, he did a whole full-sized portrait with nothing more than cheap pack of colored ballpoint pens.
Spray paint was a menace though.
And there were some really talented artists who used spray paint like experts. Riku just wasn't one of them, sadly. Because he couldn't touch it; it was just aerosol. Riku kicked at a thick can of white paint he had bought that morning, along with several other basic colors he set up around the 5x7 piece of plywood he got at a local hardware store. It was painted all white and glaring like pure sand on the beach on an especially sunny day. It almost hurt to look at.
Oh, well. He wasn't giving up yet. Not entirely anyway.
Riku tied his hair back to keep it off his neck, pulling his mask back up over his nose and mouth. Spray painting went in layers, he understood that much. And each layer contributed to the final product. That was simple enough to understand. Keep the final product in mind.
He kneeled at the edge of the plywood, frowning at the cans set up off to the side. He picked Lemon Yellow, dousing a majority of the center of the wood in a bright yellow that was harder to look at than the plain white. He then carefully set a paint can lid in the middle of the yellow, two more on either side, picking Forest Green from the collection of cans to his right.
He just figured out what position to point the nozzle when his phone vibrated in his pocket-once. Riku sighed, setting down the can to wiggle one plastic glove off and retrieve the little silver device. He flipped it open, thinking that getting a new one wouldn't hurt. He's had this one long enough.
Where are you? Sora.
Roof.
Riku hit send, folding his phone shut and putting it back in his pocket. He pulled his glove back on and attempted to recreate the position he had earlier. Quick, short bursts. That's how he was taught to spray from...someone. He couldn't really remember, he had a lot of 'friends' in the art world back then. More like, acquaintances, actually. It was how he learned most of the art forms.
“Damn, it's hot up here.” Sora sighed loudly, his canvas shoes crunching the rocks somewhere behind Riku's back.
Riku half-turned his head, regarding him for a short moment, his long cargo shorts and sleeveless shirt. He looked like a kid, which in this case wasn't such a bad thing. Made him look...endearing.
“Hey,” Sora muttered, falling into a crouch at Riku's side, his warm arm brushing Riku's longer ones. Riku nodded a greeting in return, ceasing his spraying now that Sora was a little too close, not wearing a mask as he was. Sora leaned heavily into his body, peeking down at his work. “Oh, hey, your hand's all healed.”
“Yep.” Riku said, muffled by his mask. He flexed his fingers, now without the hindrance of metal rods taped to keep his joints straight. It felt pretty amazing to have them off.
Sora smiled, resting his chin on Riku's shoulder. His hair tickled his ear as he snuggled closer. “You should really wear sunblock.” He advised, unceremoniously changing the subject, feeling Riku's bare arm with his long fingers. “You're much too pale. You'll burn.”
Riku snorted at his concern, pulling his mask off again. “I'll keep that in mind.” He watched Sora's fingers petting his arm. That really was a magnificent feeling.
“And skin cancer. You should worry about that too.” Sora's fingers changed direction, traveling farther up his bicep, slipping under his short shirt sleeves. His fingertips cool and clammy from the heat rubbed firm little circles on the top of his shoulder. That was good too.
“You worry too much.”
“Hm.”
A small shift and Sora's knee hit the ground at the edge of the painted plywood, so he could maneuver around Riku's longer legs. One hand still on his shoulder, Sora moved around until his other hand could rest on Riku's thigh, and he could nuzzle closer until his nose lightly brushed Riku's jaw. Then he kissed there, just under his jaw, his breath warm and somehow, not totally uncomfortable against his neck.
“What are you doing?” Riku chuckled, watching Sora attempt to crawl under him.
He just came up here, spoke for two seconds, then decided it was time to make out? Not that Riku was really complaining-it just seemed a little Harlequin romance. Another soft press of lips and the feather light nip of teeth had Riku completely forgetting about his painting and any other thought that happened to be in his mind at the time.
Riku discarded his can with the others, bringing his arm around Sora's back, his still plastic-covered hand slipping into the curve of his lower back. He pressed gently, guiding, feeling Sora bend a little to his touch, bringing his hips forward a bit. Sora's eyes fell closed, panting softly, the closeness making the summer sun that much hotter. He continued to kiss under his jaw, gradually moving up the tendons of his neck, stopping just below his ear, a fraction of an inch or so behind that, where his hairline met skin. He seemed to be concentrating pretty heavily on that spot.
“Sora,” Riku gasped softly, loving the slow, sucking feeling of his mouth on his neck. It really felt entirely too good. It reminded him of how much he hated being alone sometimes. Sometimes, he really just wanted Sora and all these private touches for the rest of his life. Even when they were old as hell and couldn't do much more than hold each other's hand.
He missed this.
Sora shifted again, moving around so he was directly in front of Riku, just barely balancing on his own knees. Riku was basically supporting the rest of him so he didn't fall over and into his painting, cradling his smaller body to his chest with one arm around his shoulders, the other pushing his hips farther forward so they just barely rubbed together. It was way too hot to be this close but when Sora flicked his tongue out to lap at his throat, it was really easy to forget that. Sometime during that moment, Riku decided that, in this heat, Sora's tongue on his skin was just about the best thing ever.
“...Kiss...me.” Sora breathed, untangling his arms from Riku's body, leaning back enough to regard him half-lidded eyes. He's so beautiful. Breathtaking.
Riku took it upon himself to close his mouth against his. Sora let out a kind of relieved sigh through his nose, his chest deflating in surrender as he wilted in Riku's arms. Soft and slow, that how it always started, the long press of lips, Sora's arms winding around his neck. Sora tilted his head slightly, the press becoming a little harder, just a little closer. He hummed softly, shoes scraping in the rocks as he re-positioned his legs.
Riku groaned as Sora straddled his leg. They were so close. The muscles in Sora's thighs tightened as Riku briefly shifted him in his arms, pushing both hands up the back of his shirt. He giggled a little, feeling the cool crinkle of the plastic gloves Riku forgot he had on. Riku wriggled his hands out of the gloves, smoothing his palms all over the warm skin of his back, up to his shoulder blades. Down the hard bone of his spine, the faint bumps of his ribs. Back to the dip of his spine, over the curve of his ass.
Sora wiggled, still seated on Riku's thigh, rolling his hips forward just enough to make his breath catch in his throat. Enough to make this cute little gasp that Riku was sure he could listen to him make for the rest of his life. “Riku...” Sora breathed too urgently, working Riku's mouth open with his tongue, soft and warm like wet velvet.
It was a familiar feeling, holding Sora like this, one of Riku's favorites, actually. The taste of Sora in his mouth, the lean muscle of his arms tensing and pulling tight. His tanned skin sticky and slick with sweat.
“Riku,” Sora muttered, his hands tightening on Riku's shoulders as he began sucking his way up his neck, just light enough not to leave a mark. He found that if he did the same to his earlobe, Sora's eyes would roll behind his eyelids, his mouth parting slightly to release a soft cry of ecstasy. And if he did the same thing while simultaneously grinding Sora's hips forward on his thigh, he would get the same reaction, except with a considerably sexier moan. “Riku.” Sora repeated, his voice low and heavy with desperation.
“...What?” Riku responded, more out of obligation to being spoken to rather than an actual desire to listen. He buried his face in Sora's neck, one hand under his sweat-damp t-shirt.
“S-Stop.” Sora panted, his body still writhing on its own accord in a rhythm he established for himself.
It took Riku a long minute to figure out what he actually said, hands still roaming over skin that tingled under his fingers, over a body still pressing itself against him, even after saying he wanted to stop. It wasn't until Sora repeated his name again, more firmly, that Riku finally looked at him, eyes hazed with lust and heat and animal instinct at the mercy of arousal, just barely comprehending that he meant right now.
“Okay.” Riku said after a delayed second, a little disappointed that this particular make-out session would have to be retired until later. He loosened his embrace on the younger man, letting him droop backwards in his arms.
Sora stretched his arms out behind him, lowering himself to the gravel covered blacktop as he slid off Riku's lap. “I think I'm having a heat stroke.” He breathed deeply, one hand raising to lie open-palmed against his chest, over his probably still rapidly pounding heart.
Riku smirked, vaguely realizing that he felt a little dizzy himself. The temperature was in the upper 80's, low 90's today. And it was already high noon. He liked to believe it was Sora that was making his head spin though. It was quite possible.
“Here.” Riku retrieved the large bottle of water from the bag he brought with him, dangling it over Sora's head. He made a pathetic grab for it, his arm barely rising off his chest.
“I can't.” He whined, wincing a little as he shifted on his back, most likely from the sharp rocks.
“Just grab it, Sora.” Riku teased, still holding the bottle up there.
Sora made another sad attempt, whining louder when he failed. “Don't be mean.”
His hurt expression would've been convincing too, if he hadn't fighting back a smile the whole time.
“You're so fucking lazy.” Riku muttered, unscrewing the cap. He thought about just dumping it on him, but he didn't think Sora would appreciate that too much. Besides, then they wouldn't have anything to drink anymore. Not with all of it dripping off Sora.
Hm...
Riku frowned, momentarily picturing how hot that would be.
Not a bad idea.
“Am not.” Sora declared, crossing his supposedly weakened arms over his chest easily. “I'm reasonably laid-back.”
Riku rolled his eyes. “Right.” He sat up on his knees, slinging one leg over Sora's waist, careful not to bear his weight on him as he crouched over his body.
Sora smiled, his fingers lightly playing with the hem of Riku's shirt. He slipped his hands underneath, feeling up his flat abdomen as Riku took a drink from the bottle, leaning real close to his face.
“What?” Sora's smile faded as Riku smirked around his full mouth. “Don't spit on me. Please. Don't.” He went on to protest that he didn't want his germs, even though he didn't seem to mind them a second ago when he was shoving his tongue down Riku's throat.
Riku briefly brushed his fingers over Sora's lips before thumbing his mouth open, and closing his own over the top of his. Sora made a quiet whine of indignation, but he swallowed anyway.
And he still punched the shit out of Riku's arm when he could sit up.
“That's gross.”
Riku shrugged. “You drank it.” He screwed the top back on the bottle, crawling off the brunet's body. Technically, he still had a painting to work on.
“Only 'cause you forced me to.” Sora continued to make excuses, but in all likelihood, he probably enjoyed that. Or else they wouldn't still be talking about it.
Riku moved back to where he was crouching originally in front of his plywood, finding his discarded mask and plastic gloves and pulling them back on, respectively. Sora let out a long sigh, dropping his head back on his shoulders as he propped himself up on his outstretched hands, watching Riku with bored eyes.
“I came up here to see you.” He murmured, watching. His fingers picked through the gravel behind him absently.
“I know.” Riku spoke, his voice slightly muffled by his mask. He positioned the spray paint can at the wood-Forest Green again, spraying a couple short bursts around the paint can lids.
“You know why?” Still picking at the gravel.
“I'm outstanding company?” Riku smiled behind his mask, noticing Sora rolling his eyes at his dumb comment.
“Yes, you are.” Sora grinned that cheesecloth grin of his that Riku thrived off of, nudging his butt with his shoe, making him sway forward slightly. “Not really the reason though.” He sighed again, his smile fading gradually around the edges, until it was more like a mocking smile. An impression of happiness.
Riku stopped spraying, nonplussed by his sudden change in disposition. “What's up?”
“It's nothing, really. We just--” Sora shrugged, his shoulders rising slightly and then dropping heavily. “We had a fight this morning.”
Riku raised an eyebrow. Really? Him and Evann? The world's happiest couple actually had a fight? “What happened?” He inquired, half-expecting him to say something like he had finally confessed about their affair.
“I don't even know.” Sora muttered, drooping back against the support of his own arms. “Seriously. I have no idea what we were fighting about. It seemed like he was just starting shit. He didn't even give me a reason.”
That didn't sound good. “Wanna talk?”
“Yes. God, I'd love to talk.”
“Go ahead then. Vent.” Riku raised his mask again, resuming his light spraying, listening intently.
“I don't know. I woke up this morning, everything was normal.” Sora shrugged again. “He just snapped at me, I guess. I didn't even know what to say half the time.”
Riku frowned. That really didn't sound good. Riku had very little experience with Evann, but he didn't seem like the type of person to just start bitching at someone, especially Sora. According to what he heard from Sora, he was much too nice. No, he had to know, about them.
“No-you know what's really annoying? He doesn't even yell at me. He just looks at me like I don't know any better. Like, what the hell is that?” Sora continued, ignorant of Riku's silent musings. He scowling at the sky for a second, clenching his fingers in the dry gravel under his hands.
“Think he knows?” Riku asked, momentarily, pulling his mask down to make himself coherent.
“No.” Sora said automatically. Riku just stared, wondering. “No, he would've definitely yelled at me then.”
Sora smiled, raising his head so he wasn't staring at the sky. “He's like you.” When all Riku did was narrow his eyes at being compared to his boring, normal husband, he elaborated. “He doesn't look like it, but Evann gets extremely jealous, and overprotective.”
“Hm.”
Riku shrugged. He really didn't know much about Evann. If Sora wasn't concerned, then there probably wasn't much grounds for him to be concerned either.
-
Riku parked on the street just down the street from the uptown café Kairi instructed him to meet her at. It's a small place, like most of the restaurants in town, with tables out front that you could tell used to have this elegant type wrought iron design, before the owner refurbished them with this funky bohemian paisley, mosaic tiling. Kairi was already seated at a sunshine yellow tabletop, orange paisley curling around the ice water at her elbow.
She smiled as Riku locked his car and walked the 20 or so feet down the sidewalk, standing with her arms stretched forward. Riku decided not to comment on how her sun dress matched the table she picked, the floral print nearly the same bright orange.
“Hey, woman,” Riku leaned in to hug her, her little rounded stomach pushing into his abdomen. He briefly touched the little bump, greeting the tiny baby inside. “Where's Sora?” Riku asked, sliding into his own seat after helping Kairi into hers. The sun was out, but it wasn't too warm with the occasional breeze blowing through, thankfully. Riku really couldn't stand humidity.
“He said he was going to be a little late.” Kairi explained, dropping her hand to her stomach, her other lightly fingering her water glass. “We'll wait a bit before we order.”
Riku asked for an iced tea when the waiter came around, absently chewing one of those chalk-like bread sticks from the basket in the center of table. This would be the first time the three of them had been together in almost 6 years, before all the teenage drama had driven them apart. It was going to be weird, that much was expected, especially with each new morally corrupt development of Riku and Sora's relationship. Kairi didn't need to know that though. As far as Riku knew, she only thought they had sex that one time, and that was it. She didn't need to know everything.
“So,” Kairi spoke, that one word making Riku forget his own problems, biting his paper mache bread stick in half in his mouth. “Congratulations.” She smiled, toying with the glass between her fingers.
“Thanks.” Riku replied after chewing, thinking about flipping the rest of the bread into the street. She, of course, was referring to the newfound popularity Riku just gained basically overnight. It was the reason they were meeting for lunch actually. To celebrate his success, or whatever.
And she invited Sora. Because Sora was their friend.
“Does this mean you're gonna be in magazines and stuff?”
“I guess. It's not really a big deal.” Riku shrugged, drinking his tea when it finally arrived. Swallowing, he finished. “Just specialty magazines.”
“Mo-dest.” Kairi sung, resting her chin in her open palm. She scrunched her nose in this cute little girlish way and Riku can't help but think how lucky Quint is to have her.
“I think I want to try sculpting.” Riku said after a second of more chewing and drinking. It's kind of a random comment, but it's true. He wasn't that great at spray painting, and he knew too much about normal painting in general. Maybe it was time to try more 3-dimensional art forms. And Riku had never tried sculpting before.
Kairi giggled behind her hand. “You always want to try something.” She shook her head. “Aren't you ever satisfied?”
Riku ignored the unintentional implications of her words, because it reminded him of thunderstorms and dark blackness and harsh winds and Sora's frantic grasping fingers that just barely missed his outstretched hand. He didn't like to think about that much.
Instead, he just smiled, slightly, leaning a little back in his mosaic-yellow-paisley-wrought-iron chair. “Not really.”
“So, how are things?” Kairi asked, folding her hands in front of her on the tabletop, her thick plastic fashion bracelets clacking against the tile. She had her hair pinned up in this kind of curly hair fountain at the back of her head, and Riku found it a little amazing how a hairstyle can make someone look different.
“Things are...satisfactory?” He never really liked that question. It was incredibly vague.
Kairi snorted. “What kind of answer is that?”
“Your question wasn't exactly specific.” Riku added dryly, sipping at his herbal tasting tea.
“Specific.” Kairi repeated sarcastically, pursing her lips. “Fine. Specific.” She leaned on her elbow, looking comically thoughtful. “Well, we've covered the career portion.”
As if Riku's life was biology class. “Career is soaring.”
“Love life?”
“Nonexistent.”
Kairi grinned, strangely proud of herself. “Therein lies the problem then, Mr. Sour.”
“I am not sour.” Riku argued, unconvincingly.
“You're so sour.” She persisted, using a hard bread stick to prod his newly healed hand from across the table. “How are you not dating? You're pretty gorgeous, you know.”
“People find me repulsive.” Riku said this with an wry smile, loving how her face dropped just slightly, her cute girlish expression becoming oddly indignant. Like the way Sora's would whenever he spoke negatively about himself. They were so alike, they could've been twins.
“That's not true!” Kairi declared, wagging her bread stick in the air in between them. “If you weren't gay, and I wasn't married--”
“And pregnant.” Riku interjected, smirking.
“And pregnant, we could totally, you know...”
“Let's not go there, Kai. I doubt Quint would appreciate the fact that you have hetero-erotic fantasies about me.”
“I do not!” She squealed, hiding what Riku was pretty sure was prominent blush behind her glass as she suddenly wanted to drink what was left of her water. God, she was so adorable sometimes.
“It's okay, Kai. I used to fantasize about you too.” Riku grinned wickedly, leaning forward over the small table. Kairi sat back, eyes widening a fraction more than necessary.
“Oh, God. Riku.” She breathed, hand pressed open-palmed at her chest. Sad thing was, Riku was only, like, 40 percent joking. But Kairi really didn't need to know that either. Because puberty was a strange time for everyone.
Riku laughed-a real laugh-sitting far back in his chair so his long legs stretched under the table at either side of the middle pedestal. “It's just a joke, Kairi. Relax.”
She made a face, letting her hand drop back to her stomach. “You're horrible.”
“I know.” Riku told her, only half way apologetic.
--
Now on to Part 2!
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: M
Pairing: Riku/Sora
Genre: Romance, General Angst
Summary: In the uncertain world of adults, Sora and Riku attempt to patch together their shaky relationship after almost 5 years apart. It's about love and hate and lost trust, set in a world where the magic has run dry and the boys see each for who they really are.
Warning; Smut, Language
Hypervigilance
Chapter 10: Hysteria
-
The sun was high and saying it was hot was an understatement.
Riku let out a long breath, inhaling deeply for his lung's sake as he sat heavily on the hot gravel. He pulled his mask down under his chin, stretching his legs out in front of him while trying to ignore the hot rocks pushing sharp little angles into the back of his thighs.
The roof of the apartment building was one of those big, square expanses of blacktop that absorbed insane amounts of heat, covered in cheap tan rocks with a tiny corner of green makeshift garden that some nobody tended to. A little patch of dirt full of the planet's most resistant-to-die plants known to man. They had to be, if they could survive up here. It was like a coal-tar desert.
Riku was supposed to be doing real estate right now. Sienna insisted he get a new apartment, preferably one in a safer neighborhood, and with enough space for entertaining. Apparently, mild fame, popularity and money had its drawbacks, especially if he was expected to host parties on a regular basis. Not that he really minded parties, it was the strangers in his home that he wasn't too keen on.
So, he was hiding. And practicing some old techniques he had forgotten about.
It was obvious that Riku preferred acrylics and a brush; he even used oils frequently, despite the lengthy drying time. Charcoal was a personal favorite as well, only because he really got to work with his hands, which was always a plus. Anything he could handle directly with his own fingers-pastel sticks, colored pencils-were his usual tools of creating. Once, when munny was tight and he was just starting out, he did a whole full-sized portrait with nothing more than cheap pack of colored ballpoint pens.
Spray paint was a menace though.
And there were some really talented artists who used spray paint like experts. Riku just wasn't one of them, sadly. Because he couldn't touch it; it was just aerosol. Riku kicked at a thick can of white paint he had bought that morning, along with several other basic colors he set up around the 5x7 piece of plywood he got at a local hardware store. It was painted all white and glaring like pure sand on the beach on an especially sunny day. It almost hurt to look at.
Oh, well. He wasn't giving up yet. Not entirely anyway.
Riku tied his hair back to keep it off his neck, pulling his mask back up over his nose and mouth. Spray painting went in layers, he understood that much. And each layer contributed to the final product. That was simple enough to understand. Keep the final product in mind.
He kneeled at the edge of the plywood, frowning at the cans set up off to the side. He picked Lemon Yellow, dousing a majority of the center of the wood in a bright yellow that was harder to look at than the plain white. He then carefully set a paint can lid in the middle of the yellow, two more on either side, picking Forest Green from the collection of cans to his right.
He just figured out what position to point the nozzle when his phone vibrated in his pocket-once. Riku sighed, setting down the can to wiggle one plastic glove off and retrieve the little silver device. He flipped it open, thinking that getting a new one wouldn't hurt. He's had this one long enough.
Where are you? Sora.
Roof.
Riku hit send, folding his phone shut and putting it back in his pocket. He pulled his glove back on and attempted to recreate the position he had earlier. Quick, short bursts. That's how he was taught to spray from...someone. He couldn't really remember, he had a lot of 'friends' in the art world back then. More like, acquaintances, actually. It was how he learned most of the art forms.
“Damn, it's hot up here.” Sora sighed loudly, his canvas shoes crunching the rocks somewhere behind Riku's back.
Riku half-turned his head, regarding him for a short moment, his long cargo shorts and sleeveless shirt. He looked like a kid, which in this case wasn't such a bad thing. Made him look...endearing.
“Hey,” Sora muttered, falling into a crouch at Riku's side, his warm arm brushing Riku's longer ones. Riku nodded a greeting in return, ceasing his spraying now that Sora was a little too close, not wearing a mask as he was. Sora leaned heavily into his body, peeking down at his work. “Oh, hey, your hand's all healed.”
“Yep.” Riku said, muffled by his mask. He flexed his fingers, now without the hindrance of metal rods taped to keep his joints straight. It felt pretty amazing to have them off.
Sora smiled, resting his chin on Riku's shoulder. His hair tickled his ear as he snuggled closer. “You should really wear sunblock.” He advised, unceremoniously changing the subject, feeling Riku's bare arm with his long fingers. “You're much too pale. You'll burn.”
Riku snorted at his concern, pulling his mask off again. “I'll keep that in mind.” He watched Sora's fingers petting his arm. That really was a magnificent feeling.
“And skin cancer. You should worry about that too.” Sora's fingers changed direction, traveling farther up his bicep, slipping under his short shirt sleeves. His fingertips cool and clammy from the heat rubbed firm little circles on the top of his shoulder. That was good too.
“You worry too much.”
“Hm.”
A small shift and Sora's knee hit the ground at the edge of the painted plywood, so he could maneuver around Riku's longer legs. One hand still on his shoulder, Sora moved around until his other hand could rest on Riku's thigh, and he could nuzzle closer until his nose lightly brushed Riku's jaw. Then he kissed there, just under his jaw, his breath warm and somehow, not totally uncomfortable against his neck.
“What are you doing?” Riku chuckled, watching Sora attempt to crawl under him.
He just came up here, spoke for two seconds, then decided it was time to make out? Not that Riku was really complaining-it just seemed a little Harlequin romance. Another soft press of lips and the feather light nip of teeth had Riku completely forgetting about his painting and any other thought that happened to be in his mind at the time.
Riku discarded his can with the others, bringing his arm around Sora's back, his still plastic-covered hand slipping into the curve of his lower back. He pressed gently, guiding, feeling Sora bend a little to his touch, bringing his hips forward a bit. Sora's eyes fell closed, panting softly, the closeness making the summer sun that much hotter. He continued to kiss under his jaw, gradually moving up the tendons of his neck, stopping just below his ear, a fraction of an inch or so behind that, where his hairline met skin. He seemed to be concentrating pretty heavily on that spot.
“Sora,” Riku gasped softly, loving the slow, sucking feeling of his mouth on his neck. It really felt entirely too good. It reminded him of how much he hated being alone sometimes. Sometimes, he really just wanted Sora and all these private touches for the rest of his life. Even when they were old as hell and couldn't do much more than hold each other's hand.
He missed this.
Sora shifted again, moving around so he was directly in front of Riku, just barely balancing on his own knees. Riku was basically supporting the rest of him so he didn't fall over and into his painting, cradling his smaller body to his chest with one arm around his shoulders, the other pushing his hips farther forward so they just barely rubbed together. It was way too hot to be this close but when Sora flicked his tongue out to lap at his throat, it was really easy to forget that. Sometime during that moment, Riku decided that, in this heat, Sora's tongue on his skin was just about the best thing ever.
“...Kiss...me.” Sora breathed, untangling his arms from Riku's body, leaning back enough to regard him half-lidded eyes. He's so beautiful. Breathtaking.
Riku took it upon himself to close his mouth against his. Sora let out a kind of relieved sigh through his nose, his chest deflating in surrender as he wilted in Riku's arms. Soft and slow, that how it always started, the long press of lips, Sora's arms winding around his neck. Sora tilted his head slightly, the press becoming a little harder, just a little closer. He hummed softly, shoes scraping in the rocks as he re-positioned his legs.
Riku groaned as Sora straddled his leg. They were so close. The muscles in Sora's thighs tightened as Riku briefly shifted him in his arms, pushing both hands up the back of his shirt. He giggled a little, feeling the cool crinkle of the plastic gloves Riku forgot he had on. Riku wriggled his hands out of the gloves, smoothing his palms all over the warm skin of his back, up to his shoulder blades. Down the hard bone of his spine, the faint bumps of his ribs. Back to the dip of his spine, over the curve of his ass.
Sora wiggled, still seated on Riku's thigh, rolling his hips forward just enough to make his breath catch in his throat. Enough to make this cute little gasp that Riku was sure he could listen to him make for the rest of his life. “Riku...” Sora breathed too urgently, working Riku's mouth open with his tongue, soft and warm like wet velvet.
It was a familiar feeling, holding Sora like this, one of Riku's favorites, actually. The taste of Sora in his mouth, the lean muscle of his arms tensing and pulling tight. His tanned skin sticky and slick with sweat.
“Riku,” Sora muttered, his hands tightening on Riku's shoulders as he began sucking his way up his neck, just light enough not to leave a mark. He found that if he did the same to his earlobe, Sora's eyes would roll behind his eyelids, his mouth parting slightly to release a soft cry of ecstasy. And if he did the same thing while simultaneously grinding Sora's hips forward on his thigh, he would get the same reaction, except with a considerably sexier moan. “Riku.” Sora repeated, his voice low and heavy with desperation.
“...What?” Riku responded, more out of obligation to being spoken to rather than an actual desire to listen. He buried his face in Sora's neck, one hand under his sweat-damp t-shirt.
“S-Stop.” Sora panted, his body still writhing on its own accord in a rhythm he established for himself.
It took Riku a long minute to figure out what he actually said, hands still roaming over skin that tingled under his fingers, over a body still pressing itself against him, even after saying he wanted to stop. It wasn't until Sora repeated his name again, more firmly, that Riku finally looked at him, eyes hazed with lust and heat and animal instinct at the mercy of arousal, just barely comprehending that he meant right now.
“Okay.” Riku said after a delayed second, a little disappointed that this particular make-out session would have to be retired until later. He loosened his embrace on the younger man, letting him droop backwards in his arms.
Sora stretched his arms out behind him, lowering himself to the gravel covered blacktop as he slid off Riku's lap. “I think I'm having a heat stroke.” He breathed deeply, one hand raising to lie open-palmed against his chest, over his probably still rapidly pounding heart.
Riku smirked, vaguely realizing that he felt a little dizzy himself. The temperature was in the upper 80's, low 90's today. And it was already high noon. He liked to believe it was Sora that was making his head spin though. It was quite possible.
“Here.” Riku retrieved the large bottle of water from the bag he brought with him, dangling it over Sora's head. He made a pathetic grab for it, his arm barely rising off his chest.
“I can't.” He whined, wincing a little as he shifted on his back, most likely from the sharp rocks.
“Just grab it, Sora.” Riku teased, still holding the bottle up there.
Sora made another sad attempt, whining louder when he failed. “Don't be mean.”
His hurt expression would've been convincing too, if he hadn't fighting back a smile the whole time.
“You're so fucking lazy.” Riku muttered, unscrewing the cap. He thought about just dumping it on him, but he didn't think Sora would appreciate that too much. Besides, then they wouldn't have anything to drink anymore. Not with all of it dripping off Sora.
Hm...
Riku frowned, momentarily picturing how hot that would be.
Not a bad idea.
“Am not.” Sora declared, crossing his supposedly weakened arms over his chest easily. “I'm reasonably laid-back.”
Riku rolled his eyes. “Right.” He sat up on his knees, slinging one leg over Sora's waist, careful not to bear his weight on him as he crouched over his body.
Sora smiled, his fingers lightly playing with the hem of Riku's shirt. He slipped his hands underneath, feeling up his flat abdomen as Riku took a drink from the bottle, leaning real close to his face.
“What?” Sora's smile faded as Riku smirked around his full mouth. “Don't spit on me. Please. Don't.” He went on to protest that he didn't want his germs, even though he didn't seem to mind them a second ago when he was shoving his tongue down Riku's throat.
Riku briefly brushed his fingers over Sora's lips before thumbing his mouth open, and closing his own over the top of his. Sora made a quiet whine of indignation, but he swallowed anyway.
And he still punched the shit out of Riku's arm when he could sit up.
“That's gross.”
Riku shrugged. “You drank it.” He screwed the top back on the bottle, crawling off the brunet's body. Technically, he still had a painting to work on.
“Only 'cause you forced me to.” Sora continued to make excuses, but in all likelihood, he probably enjoyed that. Or else they wouldn't still be talking about it.
Riku moved back to where he was crouching originally in front of his plywood, finding his discarded mask and plastic gloves and pulling them back on, respectively. Sora let out a long sigh, dropping his head back on his shoulders as he propped himself up on his outstretched hands, watching Riku with bored eyes.
“I came up here to see you.” He murmured, watching. His fingers picked through the gravel behind him absently.
“I know.” Riku spoke, his voice slightly muffled by his mask. He positioned the spray paint can at the wood-Forest Green again, spraying a couple short bursts around the paint can lids.
“You know why?” Still picking at the gravel.
“I'm outstanding company?” Riku smiled behind his mask, noticing Sora rolling his eyes at his dumb comment.
“Yes, you are.” Sora grinned that cheesecloth grin of his that Riku thrived off of, nudging his butt with his shoe, making him sway forward slightly. “Not really the reason though.” He sighed again, his smile fading gradually around the edges, until it was more like a mocking smile. An impression of happiness.
Riku stopped spraying, nonplussed by his sudden change in disposition. “What's up?”
“It's nothing, really. We just--” Sora shrugged, his shoulders rising slightly and then dropping heavily. “We had a fight this morning.”
Riku raised an eyebrow. Really? Him and Evann? The world's happiest couple actually had a fight? “What happened?” He inquired, half-expecting him to say something like he had finally confessed about their affair.
“I don't even know.” Sora muttered, drooping back against the support of his own arms. “Seriously. I have no idea what we were fighting about. It seemed like he was just starting shit. He didn't even give me a reason.”
That didn't sound good. “Wanna talk?”
“Yes. God, I'd love to talk.”
“Go ahead then. Vent.” Riku raised his mask again, resuming his light spraying, listening intently.
“I don't know. I woke up this morning, everything was normal.” Sora shrugged again. “He just snapped at me, I guess. I didn't even know what to say half the time.”
Riku frowned. That really didn't sound good. Riku had very little experience with Evann, but he didn't seem like the type of person to just start bitching at someone, especially Sora. According to what he heard from Sora, he was much too nice. No, he had to know, about them.
“No-you know what's really annoying? He doesn't even yell at me. He just looks at me like I don't know any better. Like, what the hell is that?” Sora continued, ignorant of Riku's silent musings. He scowling at the sky for a second, clenching his fingers in the dry gravel under his hands.
“Think he knows?” Riku asked, momentarily, pulling his mask down to make himself coherent.
“No.” Sora said automatically. Riku just stared, wondering. “No, he would've definitely yelled at me then.”
Sora smiled, raising his head so he wasn't staring at the sky. “He's like you.” When all Riku did was narrow his eyes at being compared to his boring, normal husband, he elaborated. “He doesn't look like it, but Evann gets extremely jealous, and overprotective.”
“Hm.”
Riku shrugged. He really didn't know much about Evann. If Sora wasn't concerned, then there probably wasn't much grounds for him to be concerned either.
-
Riku parked on the street just down the street from the uptown café Kairi instructed him to meet her at. It's a small place, like most of the restaurants in town, with tables out front that you could tell used to have this elegant type wrought iron design, before the owner refurbished them with this funky bohemian paisley, mosaic tiling. Kairi was already seated at a sunshine yellow tabletop, orange paisley curling around the ice water at her elbow.
She smiled as Riku locked his car and walked the 20 or so feet down the sidewalk, standing with her arms stretched forward. Riku decided not to comment on how her sun dress matched the table she picked, the floral print nearly the same bright orange.
“Hey, woman,” Riku leaned in to hug her, her little rounded stomach pushing into his abdomen. He briefly touched the little bump, greeting the tiny baby inside. “Where's Sora?” Riku asked, sliding into his own seat after helping Kairi into hers. The sun was out, but it wasn't too warm with the occasional breeze blowing through, thankfully. Riku really couldn't stand humidity.
“He said he was going to be a little late.” Kairi explained, dropping her hand to her stomach, her other lightly fingering her water glass. “We'll wait a bit before we order.”
Riku asked for an iced tea when the waiter came around, absently chewing one of those chalk-like bread sticks from the basket in the center of table. This would be the first time the three of them had been together in almost 6 years, before all the teenage drama had driven them apart. It was going to be weird, that much was expected, especially with each new morally corrupt development of Riku and Sora's relationship. Kairi didn't need to know that though. As far as Riku knew, she only thought they had sex that one time, and that was it. She didn't need to know everything.
“So,” Kairi spoke, that one word making Riku forget his own problems, biting his paper mache bread stick in half in his mouth. “Congratulations.” She smiled, toying with the glass between her fingers.
“Thanks.” Riku replied after chewing, thinking about flipping the rest of the bread into the street. She, of course, was referring to the newfound popularity Riku just gained basically overnight. It was the reason they were meeting for lunch actually. To celebrate his success, or whatever.
And she invited Sora. Because Sora was their friend.
“Does this mean you're gonna be in magazines and stuff?”
“I guess. It's not really a big deal.” Riku shrugged, drinking his tea when it finally arrived. Swallowing, he finished. “Just specialty magazines.”
“Mo-dest.” Kairi sung, resting her chin in her open palm. She scrunched her nose in this cute little girlish way and Riku can't help but think how lucky Quint is to have her.
“I think I want to try sculpting.” Riku said after a second of more chewing and drinking. It's kind of a random comment, but it's true. He wasn't that great at spray painting, and he knew too much about normal painting in general. Maybe it was time to try more 3-dimensional art forms. And Riku had never tried sculpting before.
Kairi giggled behind her hand. “You always want to try something.” She shook her head. “Aren't you ever satisfied?”
Riku ignored the unintentional implications of her words, because it reminded him of thunderstorms and dark blackness and harsh winds and Sora's frantic grasping fingers that just barely missed his outstretched hand. He didn't like to think about that much.
Instead, he just smiled, slightly, leaning a little back in his mosaic-yellow-paisley-wrought-iron chair. “Not really.”
“So, how are things?” Kairi asked, folding her hands in front of her on the tabletop, her thick plastic fashion bracelets clacking against the tile. She had her hair pinned up in this kind of curly hair fountain at the back of her head, and Riku found it a little amazing how a hairstyle can make someone look different.
“Things are...satisfactory?” He never really liked that question. It was incredibly vague.
Kairi snorted. “What kind of answer is that?”
“Your question wasn't exactly specific.” Riku added dryly, sipping at his herbal tasting tea.
“Specific.” Kairi repeated sarcastically, pursing her lips. “Fine. Specific.” She leaned on her elbow, looking comically thoughtful. “Well, we've covered the career portion.”
As if Riku's life was biology class. “Career is soaring.”
“Love life?”
“Nonexistent.”
Kairi grinned, strangely proud of herself. “Therein lies the problem then, Mr. Sour.”
“I am not sour.” Riku argued, unconvincingly.
“You're so sour.” She persisted, using a hard bread stick to prod his newly healed hand from across the table. “How are you not dating? You're pretty gorgeous, you know.”
“People find me repulsive.” Riku said this with an wry smile, loving how her face dropped just slightly, her cute girlish expression becoming oddly indignant. Like the way Sora's would whenever he spoke negatively about himself. They were so alike, they could've been twins.
“That's not true!” Kairi declared, wagging her bread stick in the air in between them. “If you weren't gay, and I wasn't married--”
“And pregnant.” Riku interjected, smirking.
“And pregnant, we could totally, you know...”
“Let's not go there, Kai. I doubt Quint would appreciate the fact that you have hetero-erotic fantasies about me.”
“I do not!” She squealed, hiding what Riku was pretty sure was prominent blush behind her glass as she suddenly wanted to drink what was left of her water. God, she was so adorable sometimes.
“It's okay, Kai. I used to fantasize about you too.” Riku grinned wickedly, leaning forward over the small table. Kairi sat back, eyes widening a fraction more than necessary.
“Oh, God. Riku.” She breathed, hand pressed open-palmed at her chest. Sad thing was, Riku was only, like, 40 percent joking. But Kairi really didn't need to know that either. Because puberty was a strange time for everyone.
Riku laughed-a real laugh-sitting far back in his chair so his long legs stretched under the table at either side of the middle pedestal. “It's just a joke, Kairi. Relax.”
She made a face, letting her hand drop back to her stomach. “You're horrible.”
“I know.” Riku told her, only half way apologetic.
--
Now on to Part 2!