writetomyheart | [TEAM ONE]

Kingdom Hearts, Riku/Sora, rated T, 1k~

"Sometimes I have to remind myself that I love you, you know."

Everything in Riku came to a stop. He stared blankly at a point on the horizon for just a moment before dragging his gaze to the side, taking in the sight of Sora’s face half-lit by the setting sun. His fingers twitched where it cupped the camera in his hands, habit compelling him to lift the viewfinder to his eye and capture every freckle and eyelash for posterity, memory. Most of the memory space on the DSLR was filled with Sora, moments caught unawares and with bright smiles pointed, eyes beyond the camera and focused on who was behind it.

But he stayed his hand. In his camera were more intimate photos, too. Nothing scandalous, but he’d soon hurl the hundred dollar contraption into the see than let anyone see them. They were moments for Riku alone and no one else.

Sora was quiet, studying him. He seemed so serious, Riku thought as if removed from the situation entirely. Sora was rarely serious — he was quicker to smile than he was to breathe. If anything, the lack of solemnity inspired a rabid sense of anxiety in Riku. Did Sora really love Riku? Really really? Did it mean as much to Sora as it did to Riku? Did Sora understand the weight of Riku’s attentions?

Or was Riku just this side closer on the line between friendship and romance? Would it be easy for Sora to skip back over like it was a rope, instead of the cliff Riku could never cross again?

“What?” Riku said, disbelieving and with a dredged up smile. His voice cracked, something he would’ve bemoaned if he wasn’t focused entirely on Sora.

Finally breaking his gaze, Sora glanced out at the horizon Riku had just been studying. He shrugged defensively, rounded shoulders bare. Freckles were cropping up there, half of one peeking out between the tank top he wore. He was bare foot, sand brushing his ankles, and somehow he seemed almost naked with just the heavy chain of his necklace along his neck. The expanse of his shoulders entranced Riku.

“I can’t even look at someone without feeling how angry you are,” Sora said, voice just a pitch higher than usual, as if he was compensating in his attempts to speak evenly. “I feel like no matter what, you’re so unhappy, Riku. It’s killing me.”

“What’re you talking about?” Riku demanded, blindsided. He shifted, folding one leg and leaning on one hand to face Sora almost entirely. The dock they sat on was sun-warmed, nearly too hot to tolerate if they hadn’t long since been used to the scalding touch of life on the islands. “As long as you’re here, I have a reason to be happy.”

Sora made a sound of frustration, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head in a jerking motion. “That’s my point! I can’t be your only reason to be happy. Isn’t there anything else?” Sora asked, nearly pleading. He pointed towards the camera forgotten in Riku’s lap. “Is there anyone else besides me on that thing?”

There wasn’t.

“I love you, Riku,” Sora said, looking up and searching Riku’s eyes for something. “With my entire heart. With everything I am, so much I can’t put it into words. When you’re around, I could sing.”

“Please don’t,” Riku joked around the rock in his throat. He wished he hadn’t, because the brevity seemed inappropriate, but they’d spent so long being friends and cracking jokes that he couldn’t help the little quip.

Sora didn’t acknowledge it. “But you never believe me. You— you think I’m settling.” Sora spat the word like it was poison from his mouth. He gave a short laugh. “Makes me feel like I’m almost crazy, begging you to believe me all the time. It’s like, you put this wall between us, and you act like it isn’t even there.”

Riku frowned, shaking his head, protesting, “That’s not true—”

“I used to think,” Sora began, speaking over Riku, “that it was like a dream. You, looking at me? Wanting me?” The inflection on Sora’s words was like a stab to Riku’s heart. He’d always known Sora flirted with low self-esteem, especially standing next to Riku. Even Riku himself had occasionally thought that, in a way, Sora would always be chasing after Riku to catch up. He just hadn’t thought Sora was aware of it. “When I saw those pictures and looked at you, you seemed so guilty, like I’d caught you in the middle of something awful. It was that look on your face that made me realize that those pictures you took meant more to you than to me.”

Riku gripped the camera harder. He could see the roll of photos in his mind’s eye — Sora sleeping, the sparkle in Sora’s eyes as he smiled, the curve of his nape, the shape of his mouth with thoughtlessly bitten lips.

“I love you,” Sora said, simply and easily, “but you make it so hard. I don’t know what I can do to make you believe me.”

He could feel Sora’s gaze on him as he waited for his response, but the only one Riku had was silence. What he wanted, needed, was for Sora to stay. To prove that even when Riku made things difficult, Sora wouldn’t grow tired of this new toy and waltz off to another friend-turned-lover. He was flighty, Riku thought, quick to get bored. Lazy, and unmotivated. Starstruck with hero worship for Riku — of course he’d say yes to dating, just for the novelty, to feel important that Riku of all people even glanced his way.

He kept quiet, turning a dial on his camera to feel its clicks as it cycled through settings.

Sora just need to hold out a little longer, Riku thought. Riku was dangerously close to believing it could all be true. All it would take was one last push to break through all his doubts and suspicions.

He heard a strange sound, and then Sora was getting up. Unrushed, casual, as if Riku was about to join him for a hand-in-hand stroll along the pier. He heard the creaking plank of wood underfoot as Sora walked, and when he lifted the viewfinder, the wind pulled at Sora’s shirt.

He thought it may have been the sound of breath hitching.

He thought, miserably, that it was too late anyways.