Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts I, II or CoM. It belongs to Square Enix and Disney.

Warnings: Implied sex. Is supposed to be bottom!Riku. PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THAT.

Author's Note: Written for Loveless because she said there wasn't anymore Sora/Riku (which is a crime, really) and I've been feeling all titchy and needing to write.
The titchyness actually has me vibrating in my seat.
ANYWHO~
Loveless gave me three words, which I used. :D
Yeah.
Unbeta'd as of yet, but will be beta'd soon, I hope.

Lazy

Sunday is a Lazy Day. It’s the day that Sora doesn’t work, and the day that Riku doesn’t have to cook or clean. Saturday mornings is when Riku cleans, and Sunday night is take away night. No, instead they lay in their large bed, Riku sleeping on his stomach while Sora reads, waiting for his lover to waken, and when Riku does, eventually, open bleary aqua eyes, Sora will smile and slip from the bed, usually naked, and pad to the kitchen, where he’ll prepare tea and jam doughnuts, made by Riku yesterday, and return to the bedroom, where Riku will be sitting up, the covers pooled about his slim waist, yawning. They will eat, and then Sora will place the tray next to the bed and kiss away the jam from Riku’s lips, lap away the powdered sugar, and they will make love.

Afterwards, they will shower together, and then they’ll migrate to the living room. Sora will watch sports while Riku lays on the couch, his head pillowed on Sora’s lap, and flips through the Sunday newspaper. Sora will play with Riku’s hair, teasing moonlight strands into puffed up, tangled stars, and by the time the program about antiques comes on they’ll have coupled again, Riku in Sora’s lap with his mouth open, a soft ‘O’, while Sora runs hands over his milky-way skin.

Then, after Sora has cooed into Riku’s ear during their after sex cuddling, whispering words of, “My universe, my love,” Riku will go and take a bath, sitting in the bathtub and staring out of the window that sits over the toilet, watching the clouds float by. Sora will remain on the couch and nap, until Riku wakes him. Then they’ll decide on what they want for dinner, ring and order it, and then they’ll walk to the restaurant, stopping in at the video rental store on the way.

After dinner is retrieved, and upon returning home and consuming it, they’ll watch their movie, shower and head to bed, Riku in Sora’s arms. Tomorrow is Monday, and then Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, but after that it’s Sunday again, and they can barely wait.

Noisy

“Riku, where are you?”

“I don’t know! That’s the problem!”

“How can you not know where you are?”

“The same way you don’t know where your fucking ass is.”

“Don’t get pissy at me just because you got lost!”

“The terminal is all different, okay, Sora?!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to yell!”

“But I want to go home!”

“So do I, babe, but you don’t see me beating anyone up about it.”

“That’s the problem you fuckwit! I can’t see you!”

“I told you! I’m by the soda machine!”

“No you’re not!”

“Yes I am!”

“No, you’re not!”

“Riku, are you crying?”

“N-no!”

“You are!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Fuck, babe, you are! Christ, it’s okay, darl, stay there, okay?”

“Don’t call me babe!”

“Yeah, okay. Just keep talking. I love you, kay?”

“Okay... I love you too... I’m just tired and hot...”

A tap on the arm. A little girl.

“Excuse me?”

A surprised blink.

“Yeah?”

Smiling, pointing to the other side of the machine.

“Is that who you’re looking for?”

A shocked silence. Awkward smiles.

“Yeah, thanks.”

A grin.

“That’s okay. You two were being really noisy.”

Beautiful

Riku, Sora thinks, is the very essence of human beauty. Pale, slim, the other teen is an earth bound angel, for lack of any better description. There is something ethereal and dark and light about him and he is such a complete and perfect mixture of so many beautiful things, sins and virtues, sweet and sour, lingering past ugliness and enveloping future beauty. Everyday he walks beside Sora he grows to be lovelier, the type of boy who is so beautiful that many see him as untouchable.

Sora knows this is lie, though, because Riku loves to be touched. Riku mewls when he has his hair played with, sighs when he has his hand held, and moans when he feels Sora’s hands splayed over his belly, beck and chest.

Riku makes both beautiful sounds, whimpers and gasps, and makes a beautiful picture, all smooth, pale skin, shoulders dusted in near invisible freckles, his back covered in little moles, a sweet contrast to his eyes, large blue-green gems that glitter with wanton lust and never-ending intelligence. His legs are long and shapely, his hands elegant and his face is an amazing mixture of expressions, each beautiful in it’s own way. Dark lust, sweet joy, slinking anger and shadowed sadness, all of them capture Sora’s heart, his soul, his being in such a way that he expects it’ll take forever and a day to untangle all the webs and nets they have cast.

But Sora knows he’ll have that long, and he doesn’t want to untangle those nets, those webs, because if he did he wouldn’t be able to see Riku like this, stretched out on the sheets, panting, groaning, hips bucking as Sora’s thrusts a little deeper inside him.

Riku is beautiful, in such a way that only Sora is allowed to touch him, and Riku is okay with that, because Sora is imperfectly handsome, because Sora is his other half.