oath_breaker | another place and time

When summer time sorikus hit you, you gotta write 'em. Canon verse, pointless ambling.

They were on break between missions, clad in youth and general mischievous ambition. Destiny Islands was their home, after all, and somehow no matter how much time passed or what happened, the islands themselves stayed the same. So it was easy, shucking the skin of heroes to be boys on the beach with tanned skin and skinned elbows, ice-cream sticky hands and sweaty clothes.

Sora and Riku lay side by side under a grove of palm trees, hands interlaced but otherwise quiet with lethargy. In tandem their chests slowly rose, breathing in thick humid air that felt more like wading water, exhaling like they knew it and they had no where to go.

Riku, romantic that he was, had scooted a little lower down, temple just barely grazing Sora's shoulder. Sometimes, he tilted his head to nose along the line of Sora's bicep as Sora lazily spoke, his free hand gesturing above his stomach with subtle indignant twitches of his fingers despite neither of them being able to see it. They hadn't run out of stories to tell teach other or meaningfully deep or predictably shallow conversations to have. Sometimes it was about the universe and meaning and destiny and what it meant to see the same stars. Sometimes it was rampant ire about how hot or humid or sandy or wet the islands were. Sometimes, it was exciting renditions of each other's journeys, or whispered comfort about hardships.

And sometimes it was Sora mumbling about his dreams that Riku had already been privy to, connected just enough that it made breathing a little easier.

When Sora wound his fantastical tale to its end, he tilted at the side, pressing his cheek into the crown of Riku's sand-ridden hair. "Hey, let's go shopping."

"Shopping?" Riku wrinkled his nose. Shopping meant seeing salesladies he'd been seeing for ten years. Shopping meant bumping into neighbors and enduring an endless litany of questions and admonition. Shopping meant sharing the peace he had with Sora, of having to diffuse Sora's attention among the countless friends he always made. Shopping meant pulling away from Sora's sun-warm skin, of his lips on Riku's hair.

"I still don't have a lot of clothes, but I sure do have a lot of cash," Sora said, and Riku could feel his grin in his hair. That was a fair point. Altogether, they'd amassed more money than they knew what to do with and than what their islands cared to see.

Riku groaned with pathetic ease, rolling over onto his side to bury his face into Sora's shoulder, even though they were equally clammy with sweat. Still, it was less gross when they were both drenched in it, and either way they'd probably be making another dip into the ocean just because they could.

"Yeees?" Sora drew it out as long as Riku's groan had been.

"Can I stay here?" Riku asked petulantly.

"I guess," Sora shrugged the shoulder Riku was on, "but I kinda wanted to go with you."

Well.

"Fine," Riku whined, slowly sitting up and pulling Sora with him by virtue of their hands. "But don't expect me to save your butt from Donald about world order again," he mimicked the horrendous squawk the duck had, sending Sora into spluttering laughter, whether because he did it well or poorly though Riku couldn't tell.

They both stood, but the moment Sora put his weight on both feet he started to hop on one. Without asking he grabbed Riku's hand to hold it palm up, lifting his leg with surprising flexibility to place his ankle on Riku's hand. With a scowl, Sora wiggled his shoe with his hands until a pile of tiny rocks clambered out. "Geez, I hate that."

Riku sighed and dropped Sora's foot, grinning when he nearly fell face-forward but smoothly caught himself.