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For years, all Reki’s known is keeping his head high and his feet on a board.
Even if he slipped, got thrown to the ground, knocked on his ass- he knew to get up- keep going- brush it off- try again.
And for years, the constant grind of wheels on pavement and skin across dirt didn’t bother him. He didn’t care how long things took- how many days tumbled by just to land a single move. He put in the work with blind ambition. Slowly progressing his way up to the summit.
But then suddenly,
Swiftly like a change in the wind,
A stick perpetually caught between the wheel and the truck of his board,
With every hill morphing and twisting into an uphill climb toward nothing at all,
Reki began to slip.
No matter how hard he kicked off the ground or how harsh the curl in his body was to get him lower, faster, stronger; nothing seemed to make a difference.
He was stuck. Flailing. Fighting for a goal that stayed just out of reach. Close enough to tease and make him ache for it, but always that much quicker than him.
And then-
Then came Langa.
Langa, who followed him and listened to him about anything. Everything.
Langa, who soaked up his interests and made them his own.
Langa, who made him laugh and smile and remember the fun in learning- the passion strewn across the streets.
Langa, who waltzed through years worth of work in a couple of weeks and made it seem like a fun party trick.
Langa.
He’s made so many parts of Reki’s life light up like they hadn’t in a long time- but for that one festering corner of his mind- the bitter curl in his gut that had only been fed and scolded by his own hand until now- Langa not only lit it up, he set it ablaze.
Now that the cruel little flame had someone new to cling to, it became hungry. It loomed in front of Reki taller than ever before, hanging off Langa’s confident shoulders and taunting Reki just beyond the tips of his fingers.
And in the embers surrounding his tender flesh, Reki realized- like so many other things- Langa wasn’t someone he could ever wish to reach.
Although it didn’t bother him nearly as much, there was also Joe. Someone else he couldn’t match. Of course as things were now, he was nowhere near Joe’s level; but realizing that Langa had already surpassed him too- well, it only made sense that they made the better pair. And it made sense that Joe would rather teach Langa how to do things. Langa picked things up faster. Wasn’t as loud. Didn’t try to argue.
That’s all it was. Perfect sense.
Reki was fine when after only half an hour of trying to get Joe to teach him a new trick, Langa showed up and wormed his way into their practice.
And he was fine when all he had to show for it was scraped up palms and a bruise blooming on his knee while Langa was already well on his way to landing it.
And he was fine when the two all but forgot he was there to begin with.
Except, he wasn’t.
Because he’d spent the last hour more fixated on how the sun was dipping behind the tree line than actually paying attention to anything they were saying.
He’d barely been able to get his board off the ground right and Langa was already getting handed praise after praise. Joe had given Reki a couple of pursed lips. A shrug or two. A confused tilt of the head. But now- now, he was all smiles and laughs.
Watching them, Reki burned on the inside. The heat, slowly eating away at him. He hated the place he was in; but with each day, he was losing the strength to claw his way out. So he sat himself on a bench at the corner of the park, waved them off, said he was feeling sick, and let them have their time together.
He was only slowing them down, after all. Just dead weight tied to their ankles.
Clearly, they could have more fun without him.
That cold bench was where he stayed until the sky grew a deep blue and the rough sound of wood scraping pavement and grating laughter settled into quiet chatter.
Quiet until-
“Hey,” Langa’s voice comes from a few steps behind him. The harsh curve of Reki’s spine only stiffens at the caution in his tone. Like he’s some sort of animal ready to snap. “Thank you for your help earlier.”
Something about that- the way it sounds- the way it coddles him- makes Reki’s skin prickle.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” His lips move fast, words spat like a bark. “‘cause you really needed my help.”
It’s out as easy as a sigh but it scrapes through his mouth with tiny little knives. He really, really , didn’t mean to say it like that. Or say it at all.
Maybe he is just a dumb animal.
He’s met with nothing but silence; every second of it adding to the weight on his back. With a strained breath, he turns on the bench. Standing there, hands hidden away in the pockets of his jacket but balled up and pulling it tight over his shoulders and chest, Langa’s eyes are downcast.
The regret that swarms Reki instantly is as encompassing as it is humiliating. His frame sags, grip going loose on his board. “Look, Langa-”
“I’m sorry.”
Short.
Quiet.
Surprising.
“What?” Reki blinks through another sour stretch of quiet. He leans down, letting the board slip from his hands to the ground so he can turn fully and rest his feet on it. “Why are you apologizing?”
“You brought Joe here to teach you something, right?” True . Reki only shrugs. “I distracted him.” Also true . Puffing a sigh into his cheeks, Reki turns his head and tries to focus on something beyond the fence of the skatepark.
Apparently, Langa wasn’t done.
And apparently, he’s intent on making Reki feel as bad as possible.
As if he doesn’t already know he’s being stupid about the whole thing. No, he knows this is irrational, but…
But he can’t keep going like this. He can’t keep wasting everyone’s time. He can’t just-
“So, sorry. If I got in your way.”
That has Reki’s head swiveling back. Langa isn’t staring down anymore; but he’s got his eyes on a passing cloud and it’s just as calmly avoidant.
“You didn’t. I- I just got frustrated is all. It’s fine, I’ll just get him to show me later.”
“I did though, I think. It’s okay to say so.” Langa’s head falls slowly, icy gaze shining like a cat’s in the dark. His expression is almost as blank as usual- but there’s something making his brow a little tight and his mouth is pulled to one side as if it’s caught between his teeth. “I just wanted to say sorry. If I bothered you today. And if you didn’t get to practice because- well, I’ll understand.”
“No.” Damn, his tone is too harsh. “No, no- that’s not what I-” He shouldn’t be lashing out like this. “ Shit-” Especially not at someone as undeserving as Langa.
It’s not Langa’s fault he learns so fast. That he’s that good. That he catches nearly everyone’s attention the second he steps on a board- It’s not Langa’s fault, but Reki almost wishes it was. At least then he’d have an acceptable reason to be acting so stupid.
But now that he’s snapped again - Given another kick to the puppy that’s just doing his best to fit in and play along- He breathes in deep and turns his eyes to the sway of his feet back and forth below him.
“I should be the one saying sorry.” It’s not easy, putting these things into words. Saying them out loud. The risk of Langa thinking Reki regrets meeting him. That is the last thing he feels. He doesn’t regret it. It’s just hard to watch him. To not feel nervous or jealous or insecure or whatever it is that’s making him feel so gross- “I just-” But he can do it. He has to do it. He can’t stand this getting any worse. “I… feel like I give so much. And days like today make it so obvious that I don’t get out halfa what I’m putting in-”
“Then why are you upset with me?”
“I’m not!” His head bobs up, eyes wide only to be met with Langa’s confused stare. He doesn’t look as nervous now. He’s not all stiff and careful, but he’s still looking at Reki like he might jump at him. “I mean, not really. It’s not you. You’re just so-”
He doesn’t want to put the thought in Langa’s head that he might be causing a problem. Langa would probably take it too seriously. Would he shy away? Would he give up? Would Langa resent him? Reki resents himself, doesn’t he?
There’s no good way out of this. He should have just laughed it all off to begin with. Kept his happy face and dealt with this crap on his own.
“You’re good.” He settles on those words shakily and Langa still looks a little skeptical. Reki’s fists squeeze tight atop his thighs and he fights the urge to lie. “Langa, you’re so good- I know it’s not easy but I-” But it looks easy for you. “It’s fine. Really. This is my problem. And I gotta deal with it myself. I don’t wanna make you worry about it or feel like it’s your fault, so please don’t apologize to me like that. You’re a natural.” Against his better judgement, Reki laughs through the end of it. It sounds so horribly broken that he feels himself grimace as much as he sees Langa do the same. Clearing his throat, he shrugs and forces the fragile smile on his face back into a flat line. “You can’t help that. So- just- don’t say you’re sorry.”
“Then you don’t get to either.” Firm and leveling, Reki nearly flinches. “You can’t help if it takes you a little longer.”
“Guess not.”
“I can show you later. If you want.”
“Why?” His voice curls into something low and defensive. Reki doesn’t want to make this an issue between them, but- But Langa doesn’t get it. “Because it’s easy?” And it would seem in a lot of ways, Reki can’t hold back when it comes to Langa. Good and bad, he runs along a thin wire always toeing the risk of falling into the dark below. Too friendly, too close to him. Or too wary, too threatened to let himself be as supportive as he wishes he could be. “Or because I should be able to do it by now?”
“No, I just-”
“I don’t want you to teach me anything out of pity.”
“I don’t pity you.”
“Really?” Reki’s head tips back with a bitter laugh. It’s easier to announce this all to the sky. Let it fall into the wind and be carried away. “Everyone else does.”
“I don’t think-”
“I already said it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“You worry about me. Even when I don’t ask you to. So… I can too.” Langa’s starting to fall soft and distant again. Reki’s hands slide from his lap to brush the metal of the bench. It’s barely close to grounding, but it works to stop the rebuttal on his tongue from slipping out for even just a second. “I can worry about you. That you’re pushing yourself too hard-”
But that second is over.
“I have to.” Reki glares at the first peek of stars overhead. They’re faint from the city lights, but he stares and focuses and tries to let out all his resentment onto the ones far away instead of the one standing right in front of him. “I have to keep up. I don’t wanna get stuck while everybody’s moving on. And if I’m slow- I don’t wanna keep holding you back either-”
“What?”
The longer this goes, the more confused Langa sounds. Surely he’d seen this happening. He couldn’t be that aloof.
But maybe that was part of why Reki felt so bad bringing it up. He’s spoiling things. Always leading people towards getting hurt.
“You don’t hold me back.” Maybe not yet. But soon. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”
Reki lets his head fall, fingers digging into the underside of the bench to keep himself still. In the same breath, Langa takes a step forward but he gets stuck almost immediately. His whole frame stalls like he’s waiting for Reki to recoil or tell him to leave. A hand leaves his pocket, but it just falls to the hem of his jacket and fiddles with the seam. His eyes drop too, watching the ground, his feet, the back and forth rub of his fingers.
It hurts to see despite the sour air, he’s near glowing with the rising moon. Brilliant. A sparkling fleck amid the darkness. It always strikes Reki right through the middle of his chest with a tightness that feels so deep and uncomfortable. He doesn’t understand it. Wishes it would stop. Blames it on the fact that he’s the reason for the tension dripping off the breeze. Tension that knots up in his throat and makes it hard to breathe or move or talk.
“I would’ve-” For someone who always speaks so carefully, half the time it’s like Langa has no idea at all what he’s trying to get across. It usually makes Reki laugh but now, his face feels as frozen as the rest of him. “I wouldn’t have even been able to stand on a board without you. And before I came here, I hadn’t been on one in a long time... I haven’t had fun like this since- We all like skating with you, so we won’t leave you behind. I mean- I know I won’t.” Langa breathes in fast and the near gasp strikes a chill across the back of Reki’s neck. His palms ache. There’s a weird pang between his ribs. He feels- sick ?
“I mean…” Langa starts again, and Reki suddenly wishes his hair wasn’t so long so he could see whatever expression Langa was hiding behind his silvery blue veil. “I’m not leaving and I don’t-” That wish grows and swells in his lungs when Langa looks up with some new found conviction. He’s startling and consuming and Reki thinks abruptly he’d be perfectly content to be swallowed whole by those crystal eyes. “I don’t want to… go anywhere if you’re not there too. So, you’ll stay with me… right?”
The words are like a dream. The way he’s being stared at, overwhelming.
Reki looks to his lap when his breath grows a little too short. His head feels so heavy on his neck, stretching his spine while it buzzes and tingles beneath his skin. His face feels hot- his mouth is dry- his stomach is churning-
He hears Langa take a few steps back but he stops shortly after.
“Well, uh- Joe said he’ll buy us dinner.” There’s a pause that Reki grunts through. His head bobs a little but his legs refuse to move. They’re heavy. “I’m going, so-” So heavy. Like sacks of stones kept from tumbling into a scattered pile by nothing more than a thin net. “You should come… If you want. I’d- want you to.”
He does want to. He knows that much, but something feels off- not wrong just- weird- Is he sweating? Is he sick? Is he dying?
“Hey...” Softly, near tentative. But then Langa’s voice grows louder- like he’s turned around, hurried back, come to crowd over him. “Reki,”
“Yea-?” Reki tips his head up, not expecting the feathery blur of blue and flushed skin and dark lashes hiding scrunched eyes just before he’s being barreled into. Just before he’s being grabbed and kissed.
His throat tries to push out a startled sound but the gasp sucked down through his nose is too strong.
Langa’s hands are on his shoulders, fingers squeezing- his brows are dipping in with concentration- the wheels of Reki’s board hit the side of Langa’s foot and they’re suspended in the blanching chill of silence. Of lips pressing together. Of breaths stilling into nothing to keep from shattering this moment.
Like that, the world clicks by a little slower. For the first time in days- weeks maybe- Reki’s thoughts settle. The night falls quiet to the pound of his heart in his ears and Reki’s sure he’s gaping all the way through it. He doesn’t have time to close his eyes or move his hands or even lean into it but- damn, he didn’t even know how bad he wanted this-
Now, it’s all he knows. This closeness. This understanding. This sort of raw, open excitement. He wants it. The cracking pieces of his confidence need this.
Langa pulls back, just enough to start talking- but Reki can’t hear him. Too stunned. Too peeled back and sensitive. All he can focus on is how much he hates that there’s any space between them again. It’s glaringly obvious how he doesn’t want that ever again. It’d almost become permanent- hadn’t it? He could have ruined everything but somehow- miraculously - he didn’t.
“-so you’ll come, right?”
Reki doesn’t really remember where they’re going or what they’re doing but he nods anyway. Because if Langa’s there, he’s going. Always, now. Forever, if he can. He’s done shutting him out for things that weren’t even his fault in the first place. He can’t do that again- not when Langa is smiling at him all bright and awe-filled and it’s something Reki didn’t realize he’d missed so much.
“Let’s go?”
Before Reki can respond, Langa’s walking away. That’s all it takes for Reki’s muscles to finally kick into overdrive. He lurches forward to swipe his board from the ground and stumble to his feet.
Langa’s staying half a step in front of him but there’s a sudden urgency that makes Reki believe if he lets this moment slip away just like that- it’ll be the end of it forever. Their friendship would be mended but it would stay that way.
Just a friendship.
So, he hustles forward, jumps to stay in stride, and smacks their hands against each other. When Langa doesn’t jerk his arm away or even spare him a startled glance, Reki knocks his knuckles into Langa’s. Eyes straight, steps even, their fingers spread and slip beside each other. They curl until they’re pressed palm to palm, shoulder to shoulder.
If Reki focuses hard enough, he thinks maybe he could feel Langa’s pulse through his hand. Or… that’s just his own. But maybe, eventually, they’d fall in sync. Hopefully, they’d stay that way. Never straying. An echo of one another. A shadow to watch his back and a shield to guard his front.
He knows that’s all a bit too hopeful.
But for once, his giddy hope doesn’t seem all that farfetched.