"You good?" asked Reki, quietly, touching Langa's knee, and Langa suppressed another shudder. He could feel the hair on Reki's legs when their calves brushed together. It made his whole body feel tingly.
"Mm."
"What'd you think about the mall?" asked Reki. "I thought it was okay. But they needed more skateboarding stores."
"Mm." Langa wanted to bury his face in Reki's shoulder again. He needed to recharge; it had been such a long day, and he'd been so overwhelmed. All he wanted was to lie in a dark, quiet room with Reki and hold his hand for hours and hours. "It was good. It was really loud though."
"Yeah?" Reki turned his head, the setting sun filtering through the trees, lighting up his face. "Was that—was that a problem?"
Langa didn't want to admit it was a problem. He didn't want to be a problem for anybody, a burden, but sometimes he got so worn out that it was hard not to be a problem, at least for a little while. Maybe Reki would be okay with it, since it was Langa.
"S'kinda overwhelming," he mumbled.
Reki sat up a little, his fingers splaying over Langa's knee, and Langa's body slid further against him, his head tilting to lean against Reki's. "I didn't know," said Reki, a sort of quiet alarm in his voice. "Langa, you should've told me!"
"I'm telling you now."
"Aw, Langa," said Reki, and he wrapped his arm around Langa's body, pulling him closer. Langa breathed out, long and slow, when his head settled back against Reki's shoulder.
It felt good. He was safe, now, and it was quiet.
"I didn't know," said Reki again, softer. "I'm sorry, man. We don't have to go back. Man, you should tell me this stuff! I wanna know, okay? I wanna know if you need anything."
"Mm," mumbled Langa, burrowing deeper. Reki's voice was low and thick with concern, and the words sank deep into Langa's bones, quiet but so, so caring. He knew Reki meant it; he knew Reki wanted to mean it, the same way Langa ached to be able to comfort him, too. Sometimes Reki talked too fast and interrupted too much and got theatrically upset without explaining what was wrong, but Langa could still feel the warmth of Reki's palm, heavy on his arm, the edges of his band-aids a little rough. Reki was trying. He wasn't perfect but he was trying and maybe it would be okay if Langa wasn't perfect, either.
"Okay," Reki said, softly, squeezing his arm. "Go back to sleep, okay, Langa? I'll wake you up when we get there," but his words were lost in a jumble of warmth and sleep and in his dreams, Langa imagined that Reki leaned in and kissed the top of his head, a tiny precious gift.
They had to split up at Langa's apartment, because Reki needed to go babysit, but he bumped Langa's fist and promised to come back over before S. Langa's keys sounded loud in the quiet apartment complex, and when he opened the door and called, "Mom?" he could already tell that she wasn't home.
Carefully he set his bags by the foot of his bed, planning to lay facedown and will himself into oblivion until Reki knocked on his window, but then he noticed it: a corner of black fabric peeking out of one of the bags. Langa frowned, kneeling down, moving the other clothes out of the way.
It was the black half-a-shirt. Langa's heart pounded once, oh god we accidentally stole it, but then he spotted the receipt in the bottom of the bag, and when he smoothed it out, he could read in clear type: black satin crop-top.
Langa's chest felt very warm. Had Reki bought this on purpose? Did he really think it had looked good on Langa? Langa didn't think he would ever have the courage to walk around wearing something like this, but the fabric was so soft, and Reki had liked it. Langa stood up on stiff legs, holding the shirt against himself, gazing into his faded reflection in the mirror.
chapter 8
Start from the beginning
