Work Text:
It’s days like these when Riku wishes it would snow on Destiny Islands.
He’s spent most of his life wishing the islands were something else. That it were a bustling city that he could explore for days and still find more. That it were connected to other land so he could leave and not look back. That it were a place he could’ve left without any consequences.
Something about this time of year makes Riku sentimental. No version of him chose to stay on the islands, not unless there was some version of Sora who convinced him to stay. And Riku has long since accepted that that’s not how this story goes. His life is something of a fairytale, and fairytales have rules they follow.
Still, his heart aches for Sora and for snow. For Sora, because he finally got Sora back from Quadratum. And for snow, because then the cold of being alone doesn’t feel so lonely. At least everything else will be cold.
But there is no snow because Destiny Islands has a tropical climate, and there is no Sora because he’s at a party for the new year. Riku celebrated Christmas with all his friends, but he can only handle so many gatherings. His mind and body are exhausted and demand rest.
And his heart? His heart has been thrown around every which way, and Riku needs to let it take a moment to recover. It feels like ever since he took his Mark of Mastery, he kept having something new thrown at him: a love for Sora, a war from the past, a rescue from hell. There’s never been a moment to just be.
Christmas fulfilled his need to be with the ones his heart cherishes the most. Now, New Year's will fulfill his need to heal. Riku knows better than to run from it. This is how his fairytale ends: with him alone and holding together his bleeding, bandaged heart.
The living room is filled with noise as Riku flicks the TV on. It’s an invention of Chip and Dale’s, borrowing signals from satellites light-years away so that Riku can connect to virtually any channel. He settles on the nearest planet’s New Year timer and looks around.
After becoming a Master, it felt weird to go home. Was it still home? Was it ever a home? Riku doesn’t know. All Riku knows is that when he stepped through the threshold, he was far too big.
His home is close enough to the beach that he can hear the waves if he closes his eyes. Riku closes his eyes now, letting the far rhythm of the sea mix with the cheers on television. A part of Riku is sure that if he just listens hard enough, he’ll hear happiness.
Riku sits down on the couch, ready for the night to come and go. Then he’d lug his body to sleep. He’d make some resolution for the new year if he could think of anything. He probably wouldn’t be able to think of anything.
Every day, he accomplishes more. Yet he’s still so far from who he wants to be. He doesn’t even know who he was in his fairytale: the villain who brought about ruin? The knight who slayed the dragon? The prince who woke the princess? None of them are Riku, and yet all of them are Riku.
When will Riku look at a photograph of himself and see himself? When will Riku go to parties without second thoughts? When will Riku hear the waves crashing and not think of Sora? When will Riku stop wishing for snow?
The TV crackles with static. The waves crash. Riku thinks of Sora.
There’s no snow, but there is a knock at the door.
Correction, there’s banging on the door. Riku starts to his feet and nearly trips over his couch on the way to the door. It could be something small, like his elderly neighbor asking if he could run to the store again to grab some sugar—or it could be that the world is finally burning. It seems fitting that Riku would ask for snow and get ash instead.
But there isn’t a neighbor, there isn’t a fire, and there still isn’t snow. Instead, there’s Sora, panting and dripping wet with sand on his pants.
Sora’s not supposed to be here. The New Year’s party is in Twilight Town, and Sora had said he was planning to spend the week there. Then he’d come back and… Well, just like Riku hasn’t gotten a break, neither has Sora. Then there would be a chance for him to catch his breath.
Which is what Sora is not doing. Doubling over with his hands on his knees, Sora pants. Riku gives himself two seconds to panic. If Sora’s on Destiny Islands instead of Twilight Town, something could’ve happened. If Sora’s at Riku’s, something could have happened that they need a Master for.
Smothering all his panic, Riku steps away from the door and heads for the bathroom. “You’re soaked,” Riku says, feeling breathless for no reason. He grabs a hanging towel and returns to Sora, running the towel through his hair. The touch tethers him to the moment. “Why are you soaked? You’re supposed to be partying.”
“Stop,” Sora says exasperatedly, slipping away from Riku’s ministrations. He yanks the towel and wraps it around himself tightly, shaking his head all dog-like. “I went for a swim.”
Riku’s eyebrow hikes up. “You were at a party, went for a swim, and now you’re here. Sora, I think you’re missing some details.”
There’s a strange, frantic look in Sora’s eyes. When Riku first found Sora in Quadratum, Sora didn’t remember him. But where Sora’s mind forgot, his heart remembered, and he kept looking at Riku like he was missing something. This look feels the same, and it’s the only thing stopping Riku from teasing.
Sora, clutching the towel tightly around him, paints the scene. “I was at the party. It was great, everyone was having a great time, even Vanitas was enjoying himself. And then I went to get some more punch, and I went to the kitchen, and…do you know what the only thing I could think of was?”
Riku feels breathless again. Riku feels breathless and like he’s going to vomit at the same time. He wishes for snow, and he wishes for fire, and he wishes for a storm to take him away from now. “What?”
“All I could think about was when I could see you.”
“Oh,” Riku says.
Sora’s serious. Sora’s serious, and Sora’s never serious. He’s smiles and laughs and easy touches. He’s always easy touches, giving Riku far more of it than he deserves. But he’s none of that now. He drops the towel and takes a step forward.
“I don’t think I’ve ever run that fast,” Sora says. “I had to get here before the new year. I wanted the first person I saw to be you. I want to wake up next to you, go to sleep next to you, and live next to you. And I didn’t want to disappear again, not before I could.”
Riku feels dizzy. The boy that Riku has loved all his life is saying all these wonderful things. It’s either a dream or a nightmare. This will keep Riku awake the rest of the night. But he’s awake, he’s awake, and Sora’s in front of him and Sora’s saying, ‘You, Riku, I want you.’
Riku doesn’t even know who he is. How could Sora possibly want him?
“I ran out of the party, and I crashed my Gummi Ship on the main island.” Sora takes a step forward, and that lost expression turns familiar; his eyes lighten, and he smiles. Sora’s saying, ‘Oh, yes, you. It’s you.’ “And then I took a canoe. And then the canoe tipped. So then I swam here.”
“You swam here,” Riku repeats. He didn’t go to the New Year’s party to let his heart heal; his heart is not healing. It’s finally breaking free from every vow of silence, wanting to dance with Sora’s heart.
Sora came here flying, and swimming, and hell, judging by the sand on his pants, even crawling. Sora came crawling to Riku.
Riku opens his mouth, but can’t trust himself to say anything when his vision goes blurry. Riku wished for snow and Sora, and here Sora is.
“Riku,” Sora says, in a tone that can almost be described as apologetic. Almost because there’s nothing for Sora to be sorry about. There never was, and there never will be, and it’s not his fault that Riku doesn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted to be alone, but—”
“No, I didn’t.” Riku steps forward into Sora’s space before stepping back. Sora follows him, stepping forward, and it’s like they’re dancing. It’s like they’re dancing and it’s dangerous, because Riku knows he’ll get addicted to it. “I needed space, but I didn’t… I didn’t want it.”
Being alone isn’t something Riku likes or dislikes. It simply is, like the light and like the darkness. Riku has to be alone sometimes, otherwise he’ll do stupid things like send their home into darkness or try to kiss Sora.
Riku wants to kiss Sora now. How utterly stupid. How horrible of him. Sora came here with these pure feelings, and all Riku can think of is how Sora tastes. It must be like the ocean, salty from sweat and sweet from skin.
“Ten… nine… eight…” Riku and Sora both turn to the television. Simultaneously, Riku is thankful for the distraction and annoyed by it. The camera pans to a bright LED ball about to reach the bottom of the pole it spins on.
“Seven… six… five…” The last thing Riku thinks of is snow. How badly he wants it, how much he craves it. The cold on his burning skin, which keeps getting hotter the closer he gets to his sun, must be heaven. The cold on his burning skin must ease all wounds. The cold on his burning skin would ease his soul.
“Four… three… two…” The last thing Riku thinks of is snow on the beach. It’s never snowed on Destiny Islands, and if it did, they would have bigger problems. Snow on these islands is just a fairytale Riku wants to believe in.
“One…” The last thing Riku thinks of is not snow, though. Riku turns away from the television to look at Sora, who’s counting down with them. Riku believes in fairytales, and Riku believes in true love.
The last thing Riku thinks of this year is Sora, as he does every single year.
“Happy New Year!”
Sora turns to Riku. His mouth closes and spreads into an infectious grin that leaves Riku unsteady. “What is it?”
And then Sora laughs, and the first thing Riku gets to see this year is Sora laughing. “My wish came true,” Sora says. “The first person I got to see this year is you.”
Riku believes in fairytales. He believes in other worlds in the sky, he believes in snow on a sunny beach day, and he believes in true love’s sacrifice. He believes in the power of friendship, he believes in the power of light, and he believes in the power of darkness.
But somewhere along the way, Riku stopped believing fairytales could come true for him. Yet here Sora is, telling him that the person he wanted all along was Riku.
What can Riku do except laugh? It starts as just noise for the sake of noise, something bubbling up from his stomach that needs to escape. Then it gets louder and breathier, like Riku can’t catch his breath. Then it’s hysterical, and Riku’s closing his eyes, and Riku’s falling to his knees, and before Riku knows it, he’s crying, and there are hands on his face.
He opens his eyes. Sora’s on his knees (again) in front of him, cradling his face with all the care in the world. “My beautiful, beautiful boy,” Sora whispers. Riku wonders how long Sora’s wanted to say that. Riku wonders how long he’s wanted to hear that. “Don’t cry. It’ll be a good year.”
What can Riku do except laugh again? Sora thumbs away at his tears, and Riku leans into his touch. He rarely cries, but he can’t help it.
Sora’s always been his whole heart, and Riku’s the one who corrupted him, a boy turned villain. Sora’s always gotten into trouble, and Riku’s always been the one to lead him out of it, ever the dutiful knight. But maybe Riku’s got this whole thing mixed up; maybe Sora never was the princess who needed saving.
Maybe Riku is the princess whose frozen heart needed to be freed. Maybe Sora is the prince with warm lips who can wake her up.
Riku laughs again, placing his hands over Sora’s. “I know it will be.”
How can it not be with his prince?
After a lifetime of yearning, wanting, and wishing, Sora leans in. Riku has imagined kissing him more times than numbers can count. It’s always been a little fantasy he allowed himself to indulge, but always simply that, just a fantasy. He’s imagined kissing him on land and underwater and in the stars, he’s imagined kissing his lips and his cheeks and his eyes, and he’s imagined kissing him alone and in a party and in a crowd.
How it actually goes is like this: Riku leans in and meets him halfway. Sora’s lips are soft and hot and have a thin layer of sweat over them. Between his lips come out hot pants, and Riku opens his mouth to eat them. Riku is kissing Sora. Riku is kissing Sora, and he feels dizzy, his hands sliding to cradle Sora’s face so he doesn’t fall.
He doesn’t feel too big, and he doesn’t feel too small. He feels right in Sora’s hands, like it’s where he belongs. Maybe that is where Riku belongs; maybe that’s who he’s meant to be. Maybe he’s been denying it his whole life. Maybe they both have.
Their kiss doesn’t go on for long, because Riku is still crying. Sora pulls back, but not too far, just enough that their lips can still brush. Their foreheads push against one another, and Riku opens eyes he doesn’t remember closing.
Sora’s red, and Sora’s beautiful. Sora’s his prince, and Sora’s his wish come true.
Riku smiles. It’s going to be a good year.
Maybe he doesn’t need any snow.