Oh, how I was inhumanely bored. And thus, I have decided to post a short SoraxRiku a wrote a long time ago. Beware, this is slightly boy-lovish. I can't control what my hand decides to write. <33
----
Some things didn’t need to be discussed; it was quietly understood between them that certain topics were absolutely - absolutely - off limits. Even so, Sora was negligent, and often found himself caught up in those heated moments when his hand would curiously find its way onto a foreign leg or arm, emitting the usual fiery blush and look of disapproval from the other boy. Sora enjoyed those moments of mischievousness, and took great pride in being able to make his friend squirm from only the slightest touch. He considered it to be one of his more useful talents. Saving worlds from a seemingly inevitable darkness took guts, brains, brawn; being a boyfriend was another matter entirely.
The other boy was strict, a disciplinarian, for lack of a better word. When they were alone, he was strong, intimidating, a lover capable of both dominance and kindness. In public, there were rules. Order had to be kept and maintained at all times. Disruption to order was unacceptable, and would most likely result in consequences - consequences that Sora was, oddly, more than happy to accept, if not all for a single moment to misbehave.
The moments, for the most part, were short, and would involve only the slightest of movements, only the softest of words. They would walk to class together, staying close, but making sure to allow a safe distance to disarray any curious eyes. Then, rather quickly, the younger boy would lean in next to the other’s ear. He would whisper; his breath would be abnormally warm, his voice would carry a tinge of weakness to it.
“Riku.”
The shiver that would make its way from the older boy’s neck to his spine was uncanny, his surprise completely noticeable. An unmistakable redness would make its appearance on the boy’s face, and could be traced all the way down to his feet. Sora would smile, would travel to his desired destination without uttering another word.
--
But the older boy wasn’t a pushover, and wouldn’t let his not-so-innocent comrade get away with such behavior so easily. There’s a time and place for everything, he told himself constantly. Sometimes, thing should be saved for more... convenient moments. And so, during lunch, the two would meet up again, with the younger, spiky-haired boy rushing off to a quiet spot underneath a tree, away from any sign of human life, and sit stubbornly onto the damp grass. Riku would follow him, already pushing away thoughts of just what could happen in times like these, when the rest of the world seemed to be cut off. After all, he was the responsible one of the two, the one who had to keep order and remain confident. He had to appear to be in control, even if he knew he certainly wasn’t.
“Here,” the younger boy would say triumphantly, pulling out a small blue box from his bag. “I made you a bento lunch! ‘Cause I know you don’t usually eat lunch and all.”
Then, Riku would have to endure; he’d have to forcefully remind himself not to become lost in those pools of blue tranquility, or that adorable look of innocence. He’d sit quietly down and stare at the ground, eyeing the grass as it moved effortlessly under the influence of the wind. This was the best way to control himself, he decided. Maybe if he could appear to be a loner, he could don a different personality - one that could protect both himself, and those he cared the most for.
The smaller boy next to him would begin rambling about something simple, something so incredulous to regular human ears, but altogether remarkable to him. Quietly, Riku would decide on the best time to administer his discipline, the best moment to make his move.
“Don’t you think so, Riku?”
There; in between the younger boy’s words, Riku would tilt in with the elegance and meticulousness of a perfectionist. His hand would find his friend’s wrist, and he would grab on, with no intention of letting go. He would squeeze rather tightly, so as to relinquish a quiet squeak from the other boy’s lips. He would lower his voice, and speak. “You’re not being cute, you know.”
And then Sora would look up at him, and cock his head to one side curiously, aware of what was coming; this wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to receive one of the older boy’s “talks”.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he would say mock-innocently, smiling, and averting his attention elsewhere.
“You do,” Riku would say, pulling the boy’s wrist closer to him. “You most certainly do, because we’ve talked about this before. Many times before.”
The younger boy would sigh, roll his eyes sardonically. “Talk? Oh! You mean ‘that’ talk. I guess I forgot. But feel free to enlighten me if you want; we’ve got plenty of time to-”
He wouldn’t notice the older boy suddenly jerk his wrist tightly before moving in and placing a rather serious bite-mark onto his neck. Momentarily, he would squint, obviously shocked, but amused all the same. He would wait for his lover to continue. “As I was saying, you’re not being cute. And being coy isn’t a good look on you, anyway.”
This was his opening. Quite serenely, he would say, “Then why is it working?”
Hearing this, Riku would grip the small boy’s wrist harder in his grasp. If there was one thing he didn’t like losing, it was his pride; even if Sora was right - and, technically, he was - Riku certainly wasn’t going to reveal this to him. But he wouldn’t lie to himself; the other boy was almost irresistible like this. He would quietly ponder to himself just how soft the annoying boy’s skin was, and would make a mental note to remember the fact for later use. “I told you already. There’s a-”
“-a time and place for everything,” Sora would echo deliberately.
“And some things should be saved for more private moments. I don’t-”
“-don’t want anyone discovering your little ‘secret’, Riku?” The younger boy would smirk, and stick his tongue out playfully, eliciting a quiet grunt from his aggressor. “Wouldn’t be too bad.”
“That’s not the point,” Riku would mutter, sharpening the last word and grabbing hold of the other boy’s chin, forcing him closer. “I’m a private person. I don’t discuss or reveal everything about my life to everyone who walks by. Not everyone needs to know; it’s none of their business.”
Sora would grin, allowing a chuckle to escape him. “Shy?”
“And that’s why I ask you to be a bit less obvious,” Riku would say, ignoring Sora’s cheekiness. “Just because you’re young and full of hormones doesn’t mean you can’t control yourself; if I can do it, so can you.”
Then, he would relax his grip. His hand would wander back to his lap, and he would sigh, fatigue seeping through every opening in his body. In the meantime, the other boy would lean back into the comforting embrace of the soil beneath him; he would close his eyes, and he would exhale softly. “I think you’re scared,” he would say, tempting the older boy’s patience. “I think you’re afraid of being discovered.” Riku would look at him curiously through the corner of his line of vision. “But, hey, whatever makes you happy,” he would finish nonchalantly.
With a feeling of déjà vu coming on, Riku would know he was defeated. He could keep up a wall of confidence, of level-headedness, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t control his desire just as he couldn’t control the natural urge to breathe. And then, just as he always did, Riku would move towards the younger boy, lean in, and allow his lips to caress those of the one he loved. The two would refrain from movement for fear of interrupting the almost unnaturally beautiful quietness surrounding them.
When he finally forced himself to pull away, he would take notice of the younger boy’s knowing smile, curse himself mentally for giving in so easily, then move back to his previous spot. He would take the prepared lunch made especially for him, and he would utter quietly, “We’ll settle this later.”
----
Some things didn’t need to be discussed; it was quietly understood between them that certain topics were absolutely - absolutely - off limits. Even so, Sora was negligent, and often found himself caught up in those heated moments when his hand would curiously find its way onto a foreign leg or arm, emitting the usual fiery blush and look of disapproval from the other boy. Sora enjoyed those moments of mischievousness, and took great pride in being able to make his friend squirm from only the slightest touch. He considered it to be one of his more useful talents. Saving worlds from a seemingly inevitable darkness took guts, brains, brawn; being a boyfriend was another matter entirely.
The other boy was strict, a disciplinarian, for lack of a better word. When they were alone, he was strong, intimidating, a lover capable of both dominance and kindness. In public, there were rules. Order had to be kept and maintained at all times. Disruption to order was unacceptable, and would most likely result in consequences - consequences that Sora was, oddly, more than happy to accept, if not all for a single moment to misbehave.
The moments, for the most part, were short, and would involve only the slightest of movements, only the softest of words. They would walk to class together, staying close, but making sure to allow a safe distance to disarray any curious eyes. Then, rather quickly, the younger boy would lean in next to the other’s ear. He would whisper; his breath would be abnormally warm, his voice would carry a tinge of weakness to it.
“Riku.”
The shiver that would make its way from the older boy’s neck to his spine was uncanny, his surprise completely noticeable. An unmistakable redness would make its appearance on the boy’s face, and could be traced all the way down to his feet. Sora would smile, would travel to his desired destination without uttering another word.
--
But the older boy wasn’t a pushover, and wouldn’t let his not-so-innocent comrade get away with such behavior so easily. There’s a time and place for everything, he told himself constantly. Sometimes, thing should be saved for more... convenient moments. And so, during lunch, the two would meet up again, with the younger, spiky-haired boy rushing off to a quiet spot underneath a tree, away from any sign of human life, and sit stubbornly onto the damp grass. Riku would follow him, already pushing away thoughts of just what could happen in times like these, when the rest of the world seemed to be cut off. After all, he was the responsible one of the two, the one who had to keep order and remain confident. He had to appear to be in control, even if he knew he certainly wasn’t.
“Here,” the younger boy would say triumphantly, pulling out a small blue box from his bag. “I made you a bento lunch! ‘Cause I know you don’t usually eat lunch and all.”
Then, Riku would have to endure; he’d have to forcefully remind himself not to become lost in those pools of blue tranquility, or that adorable look of innocence. He’d sit quietly down and stare at the ground, eyeing the grass as it moved effortlessly under the influence of the wind. This was the best way to control himself, he decided. Maybe if he could appear to be a loner, he could don a different personality - one that could protect both himself, and those he cared the most for.
The smaller boy next to him would begin rambling about something simple, something so incredulous to regular human ears, but altogether remarkable to him. Quietly, Riku would decide on the best time to administer his discipline, the best moment to make his move.
“Don’t you think so, Riku?”
There; in between the younger boy’s words, Riku would tilt in with the elegance and meticulousness of a perfectionist. His hand would find his friend’s wrist, and he would grab on, with no intention of letting go. He would squeeze rather tightly, so as to relinquish a quiet squeak from the other boy’s lips. He would lower his voice, and speak. “You’re not being cute, you know.”
And then Sora would look up at him, and cock his head to one side curiously, aware of what was coming; this wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to receive one of the older boy’s “talks”.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he would say mock-innocently, smiling, and averting his attention elsewhere.
“You do,” Riku would say, pulling the boy’s wrist closer to him. “You most certainly do, because we’ve talked about this before. Many times before.”
The younger boy would sigh, roll his eyes sardonically. “Talk? Oh! You mean ‘that’ talk. I guess I forgot. But feel free to enlighten me if you want; we’ve got plenty of time to-”
He wouldn’t notice the older boy suddenly jerk his wrist tightly before moving in and placing a rather serious bite-mark onto his neck. Momentarily, he would squint, obviously shocked, but amused all the same. He would wait for his lover to continue. “As I was saying, you’re not being cute. And being coy isn’t a good look on you, anyway.”
This was his opening. Quite serenely, he would say, “Then why is it working?”
Hearing this, Riku would grip the small boy’s wrist harder in his grasp. If there was one thing he didn’t like losing, it was his pride; even if Sora was right - and, technically, he was - Riku certainly wasn’t going to reveal this to him. But he wouldn’t lie to himself; the other boy was almost irresistible like this. He would quietly ponder to himself just how soft the annoying boy’s skin was, and would make a mental note to remember the fact for later use. “I told you already. There’s a-”
“-a time and place for everything,” Sora would echo deliberately.
“And some things should be saved for more private moments. I don’t-”
“-don’t want anyone discovering your little ‘secret’, Riku?” The younger boy would smirk, and stick his tongue out playfully, eliciting a quiet grunt from his aggressor. “Wouldn’t be too bad.”
“That’s not the point,” Riku would mutter, sharpening the last word and grabbing hold of the other boy’s chin, forcing him closer. “I’m a private person. I don’t discuss or reveal everything about my life to everyone who walks by. Not everyone needs to know; it’s none of their business.”
Sora would grin, allowing a chuckle to escape him. “Shy?”
“And that’s why I ask you to be a bit less obvious,” Riku would say, ignoring Sora’s cheekiness. “Just because you’re young and full of hormones doesn’t mean you can’t control yourself; if I can do it, so can you.”
Then, he would relax his grip. His hand would wander back to his lap, and he would sigh, fatigue seeping through every opening in his body. In the meantime, the other boy would lean back into the comforting embrace of the soil beneath him; he would close his eyes, and he would exhale softly. “I think you’re scared,” he would say, tempting the older boy’s patience. “I think you’re afraid of being discovered.” Riku would look at him curiously through the corner of his line of vision. “But, hey, whatever makes you happy,” he would finish nonchalantly.
With a feeling of déjà vu coming on, Riku would know he was defeated. He could keep up a wall of confidence, of level-headedness, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t control his desire just as he couldn’t control the natural urge to breathe. And then, just as he always did, Riku would move towards the younger boy, lean in, and allow his lips to caress those of the one he loved. The two would refrain from movement for fear of interrupting the almost unnaturally beautiful quietness surrounding them.
When he finally forced himself to pull away, he would take notice of the younger boy’s knowing smile, curse himself mentally for giving in so easily, then move back to his previous spot. He would take the prepared lunch made especially for him, and he would utter quietly, “We’ll settle this later.”