#anon might or might not have intended it but my shoulder devils certainly did!

[drdtfuitgumies]

If Arei can steal David’s clips, can Whit steal Charles’ lab coat?

my shoulder devils won. by a lot. thank you for the request!

[squiishiichaos]

Rikuroku? And they only start getting along after they make sora cry ((maybe out of frustration bc they were always arguing or fighting)) and learn they have a ton in common

(Anon.  What the fuck.  Why would you make me do this to Sora?

…but okay.  Here you go.)

_______________

Sometimes, life was like glass–fragile and easily broken. Other times, no matter how hard Roxas slammed the bottle against a tile counter, it just refused to fucking break.

Sometimes–like now–it was a bit of both.  

Staring at his long-time best friend on the brink of tears, he could do nothing but glare at their only mutual friend where he stood leering sidelong at the floor from his place leaned stoically against the wall.  

With his hands folded across his chest, Riku looked angrier than he had any right being considering he was the one who started this whole fucking thing.  If he had just listened to Roxas the last eight-hundred times he told him to leave him the fuck alone, maybe Sora wouldn’t look like someone had kicked his goddamn puppy.

But no.  Of course not.  

Because Riku just had to march his ass into the gym at the exact same time Roxas was using it to conveniently skip class and he just had to give him that fucking look like he was the worst piece of garbage on this fucking green Earth. And yeah, okay, maybe he had jumped the gun when he asked him what the fuck he was looking at, but could you blame him?  

How Sora could even put up with accusatory looks like that was fucking beyond him, but then again, with all the glares pointed at him, maybe Sora didn’t know the all-consuming rage it brought along with it.

He certainly did now–if Riku’s bloody nose was anything to go by.   Though–and Roxas would never admit this out loud–Riku had managed to slug him a good couple times before their friend came to the rescue.  

Then–then–he had the audacity to tell him he was fucking lucky.  What bullshit!   Lucky for who?  Himself, maybe, because Roxas was just getting warmed up.

“Stop it!”

Roxas paled as the Brunet tried–and failed–to compose himself with a sniffling breath.  “Stop what?  I’m not even doing anything!”

“I know you, Roxas!  Don’t you dare try and tell me that if I wasn’t standing right here, you wouldn’t go right back to fighting him!”  

Oh, no, there was no question about that.

So, he stayed silent and let that glassy glare bore right through to his soul as Sora seethed, “that’s what I thought.” A low growl that had no right coming out of Sora’s mouth–of all places–was followed by a drag of hands down sun-kissed skin.  “You guys cannot keep doing this.  It was okay when you were just teenagers, but we are about to graduate University, guys!  You’re too old for this shit!”

Oh, fuck.  Riku and Roxas shared the same wide-eyed look from across the gym as that one out-of-place word set off alarm bells in both their minds.  

But before either of them could dare say a word to try and assuage the obvious hue of anger dusting the Brunet’s cheeks, he was already huffing out the last signs of tears from his lungs and staring them both down with hands poised dangerously on his hips.

“Look,” he began with a sharp edge, “This is the last time.  I want to be friends with both of you without biting my nails any time I want to invite the both of you.   I’m not asking for much, here.  I don’t care if you hate each other, just figure shit out so you don’t get me arrested as an accomplice in murder.

“Now,” and he clapped his hands loud enough that they both nearly jumped, “I’m gonna give you guys some time alone.  Talk.  Fight. Blow each other.  I don’t fucking care, just…please.  I will not choose between the two of you.”  

With that, the Brunet stalked over to the door and left two behind to stare at his wake.

The click of the door shutting came with a tension that settled in a miasma between them thicker than any mystery meat the cafeteria back in Twilight Town had ever served.  It was suffocating.  Debilitating.  But it also came with a punch to the gut that had Roxas right back into the same fight-or-flight response that got them into this mess in the first place.

His conscience told him, this is where you say sorry, but the devil sitting pretty on his shoulder whispered, make him eat shit and grovel.  

Guess which one he fucking chose.   “This is all your fault.”

“Excuse me?”  At least Riku had the decency to sound as annoyed as Roxas felt.  “You attacked me, remember?  All I did was open the fucking door!”

“Oh, horseshit!  You could’ve just ignored me and gone somewhere else!”

“Where else would you like me to go, huh?”

“Literally anywhere I’m not!”  

“Well, sorry to break it to you, Roxas, I don’t know where the fuck you are at every fucking hour of the goddamn day!   I know this might be hard for your paranoid mind to understand, but sometimes, I actually do shit that doesn’t revolve around you.  Most of the time, in fact!”

Okay, that did it.   “What the actual fuck, Reek?  You make it sound like I’m obsessed with you or something!”

“Oh, like you’re not?”  Roxas actually reeled back at that one.  Is that how it seemed?  Like he had a-a-grade school crush or something?  

“Fuck no!  Eww, why the fuck would I ever be obsessed with you?!”

Green jades narrowed into a piercing leer.  “You’ve been the bane of my existence since we were fourteen-fucking-years-old.  Any time I tried to just hang out with Sora, you’d get all defensive–”

“Yeah, because you hogged him all to yourself!  You literally threw a tantrum for three days straight because he asked Kairi to the Beach Ball instead of you!” Riku made rolling his eyes somehow look like the most dramatic action in the entire world.   It only pissed Roxas off more that he actually made it look–dare he say it–good.

“And what about you, huh?  You quit Hayner cold turkey for three whole months because he called Sora stupid once.”

“He fucking deserved that shit.” A slight quirk at the corner of Riku’s lips almost pulled a bit of pride from Roxas.  It was so cynical and maniacal–the kind of dark expression the Silveret seemed to reserve only for him.

Only for me?  What the fuck, brain?  No!

“I never said he didn’t, did I?”  Shifting where he stood leaned against the opposite wall, worn sneakers squeaked against the wood floor louder than if one of them had screamed.  It made the distance lingering between them seem even larger than when Sora had been standing in the dead center of it.  Made it feel unnecessary when they were supposedly in the middle of an argument.

But Roxas refused to be the one who closed it.  Adamantly refused.    “Then why the fuck are you bringing it up?”

“You air my dirty laundry, I air yours.” That cocky little smirk.  It stuck there as Riku finally came off his perch and stood tall with a confidence he often swallowed when around his friends.   A suaveness that had once–a long time ago–made him think, I wish I could be that cool.

“What’s next, then?  Wanna remind me of the time I nearly got my own ass jumped by Seifer because I caught him talking shit about Sora?  Or maybe you’d rather tell me about the time that you called me selfish for blowing him off on his birthday!”

“You made him cry on his Birthday! What else did you expect me to do?  You didn’t even have a good excuse!”  

On the contrary, Roxas had a perfectly good excuse.  He had simply refused to explain over the phone how Lea and Isa had been fighting for weeks and that he was honestly afraid their engagement was one bad argument away from lapsing and his entire home life of falling to shit.  Refused to let himself cry on Sora’s shoulder on his Birthday, when he should be happy and stuffing his face with cake.   Or to hear his best friend calmly say, “the party can wait one more night.  You need me more right now,” when he knew that the Brunet had been waiting literal months for that sleepover.

Fat lot of good lying had done him.  Sora had ignored him for a solid week afterwards, and even Riku had refused to look at him.  The only cherry on top of a bad life had been two weeks later, when Riku finally got up the balls to confront him and Roxas got the honor of fracturing his wrist during the ensuing fight.

Not one of his finer moments, but it had certainly gotten a lot of problems off his back in one foul swoop.  

“Whatever, Asshole.  You’re prol’ly still angry I won that fight.”

“Believe it or not, Roxas, that was probably one of the only times I actually respected you.”  

Letting out a harsh bark of a laugh, the Blonde felt his fists ball at his sides.  “Excuse me?”

“You missed that party for him, not you, and I could see the pain it caused written all over your face.  Until then, I really thought you were just a selfish git, but no narcissist could feel that much guilt. In retrospect,” he sighed offhandedly with another of those classy eye-rolls, “I guess I should’ve realized you’d never miss a chance to hang out with Sora without good reason, considering you followed him like a love-struck puppy all the time.”

“Who told you?” It came out weaker than he intended it to.  He wanted it to sound bitter and deadly, but it instead sounded fragile.  Like the bottle he’d been slamming against the kitchen sink was finally on its way to cracking open.

Right now, Riku looked no better.  “I…heard some rumors from one of the members of the Swim Team.  Said they’d had a big break-up right around the same time.”

“And clever little fucking you put the pieces together.”

“Look,” Riku sighed, pushing back the long waves of his platinum hair with equally long fingers, “we obviously have our differences and I don’t wanna be your friend anymore than you probably want to be mine–” Roxas’s harsh laugh cut him off just long enough to elicit a warning glance before he continued–”but I’m not losing Sora because we’re both stubborn pieces of shit.”

“A-fucking-men.”  Scratching angrily at the back of his neck, Roxas glared back at Riku.  “So, what do you propose?”

“A truce.”

Roxas snorted.  “A truce?  What’s next?  A goddamn treaty?  We gonna have to bring in a fucking banker to Notarize it?”

“If we have to, yes.”

“Holy shit,” the Blonde breathed, “you’re fucking serious.”

“Yes,” the Silveret confirmed with another of those piercing leers, “as serious as a heart attack.”  

Huffing out the air from his chest in an oof, Roxas ruffled the messy strands of his unkempt hair and cautiously took a couple steps into the gaping delta between them.   Riku took two of his own, and like pieces on a chessboard, they slowly closed the distance remaining until it was just the two of them–alone in an open room–with nothing but a foot of air between them.  

The last time they’d been this close, Roxas had literally punched the air out of his chest and kneed this fucker in the nose.  Literally about five minutes ago.

Speaking of which, “I’m not gonna say sorry for your nose.”

Riku rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t think you would.”

“If that’s a stipulation of the truce, I’m not agreeing to it.”

“I want your apology even less than you want to give it.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Fucking perfect.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake–can we just shake on this so we can leave with our friendship to Sora in tact?  Please?”  Roxas felt his lips tilt into a snarky grin against his will.

“Is this what I’ve reduced you to, Reek?  Fucking begging?” Jade daggers honed in on his jugular with an accuracy that was almost terrifying when they were close enough the Silveret could actually get a clean shot for his vitals.  Dare he say it, Roxas was almost…proud?

Fuck it.  

Reaching out a hand, Roxas let the grin twist into a challenging smirk.  “I, Roxas, hereby agree to not start shit with you while in the presence of Sora.  This includes–” he faked a gag that earned him a reprimanding slap to the back of his head and his own little demonic laugh–”occasionally engaging you in conversation if the occasion demands it.”

“You know, I’m not that bad.”

“Certainly are easy on the eyes.”

“Did you just–”

“Shake my fucking hand, Reeks.  I ain’t got all damn day.”  

Rolling his eyes, Riku slapped his hand into his and gripped it tight enough to almost earn him a wince.  Never one to be outdone, Roxas squeezed back with enough force to have the Swimmer glaring bloody murder at his would-be corpse.   “I, Riku, too, hereby agree to not start or answer shit with you while in the presence of Sora.  Should that mean putting up with your fucking bullshit–”

“You love me, admit it.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

“Wait–”

“–Then so fucking be it.”

“Alright, now kiss already!”  Never had the two broken apart faster than they did as Xion’s mirthful voice echoed through the empty walls of the gym.  

While Riku maintained a composed air about him, Roxas gaped at the little traitor where she clapped mischievously from her spot beside a cheeky-looking Sora.   With his hands clasped behind his head and that victorious expression painted across his fucking face, the Brunet was–for once–almost unbearable to look at.  

Gazing sidelong at Riku, the Blonde seethed, “this feel like a fucking set-up to you?”

The Silveret shrugged his broad shoulders and pushed his head forward in a playful tease as he walked toward them.  “And you say you’re not paranoid.”

“Hey!  Fuck you, asshole!  I am not paranoid!”  

And just like that, Roxas threw the glass bottle over his shoulder and forgot to listen for the shatter while he ran after his new acquaintance.