This is a piece I wrote on a whim several months ago (Funny that I'm posting it on a snow day...) in hopes of making it into a full chapter story. I think it's better as a one shot. (I'm getting hopelessly addicted to these...) Anyway, it's rather pointless, as there's no real plot, but I like it for it's simplicity.
Warnings? There's a touch of Shonen-ai if you're looking for it, but it can be read without any inclination in that area too.
I don't own, so don't sue.
Riku knocked on Sora's front door with a heavy sigh. The sun was beating down on his pale head with more intensity than it ever had before.
Funny, he had thought the same thing just yesterday.
The hottest days of the summer had rolled in indolently. The air rippling above the ground distorted the horizon, and the thin trees bent forever in the heated breeze. It rubbed the ground passively, searing the surface sand and baking the sidewalk. Steaming waves, rolling in a breezy tandem against the languid shore.
Riku's skin was beginning to sweat profusely, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was going to melt in his shoes on the stoop. He brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes and shifted.
Sora had the tendency to take a while. He was born with this talent. Riku had learned this over years of spending time with him; being late to parties, school, even curfew, so why he didn't stay at home a few minutes to give Sora a head start, he didn't know. It was his punishment now; standing out in the sun, roasting like a pig on a spit.
His fist made contact with the wood again, harder this time. His clothing was starting to stick to his body; a feeling that made his skin crawl. His throat began to dry, and his tongue felt thick and awkward in his mouth. He could ask Sora for a bottle of water, but with his current track record, Riku was sure to dehydrate before Sora even got it to the door.
His brow wrinkled in annoyance, and he rapped his fist against the door for the third time. There was a small yelp coming from the other side, followed by a "Just a minute!" Riku sighed. He didn't understand the need to preen so extensively for a casual trip around the island. They had gone almost everyday that wickedly hot and boring summer; buying candy, popsicles and the like. None of the outings even called for presentable clothes, but apparently, Sora thought differently.
"I'm here!" Sora chirped, hopping out the door, fitting his other shoe on with a tug. "Keep your shirt on."
"It takes you forever!"
"It does not. You're just impatient." The slightly insulted look on his face bade Riku to offer a little amnesty, but only because he was too hot to argue the subject.
Sora took the liberty of pointing it out. "You're really sweaty."
"Yeah," He said with an eye roll. "In case you haven't noticed, it's a tad warm out here."
Sora ignored the hint of sarcasm and pranced his way in front of Riku, hopping off the stoop with a flair all his own in an explosion of sand. "Let's go before you melt then."
A small shack was nestled between an offset pair of palm trees. Their destination wasn't glamorous, but it was necessary.
Sora stopped just before he could see the tiny, worn window of the shack, stained with various colors of dried syrup and cream.
"Hey Riku," Sora turned to him suddenly, a bright blush spread across his face. "Heh...well..."
Riku lifted an eyebrow. "What?"
Sora began furiously prodding the sand with the tip of his shoe. "Did you um...bring any munny?"
Riku stared at him incredulously. "You mean it took you that long to get ready and you didn't even bring any?"
Sora gulped and prodded the ground with a bit more force. "Maybe...you know, you can...treat me?"
Riku rolled his eyes as his hand fished around in his pockets for the munny he already knew he had. "I dunno, I may only have enough for myself..."
"Ooh!" Sora stamped the ground.
Riku put him into a gentle, but firm headlock. "You know good and well I'm going to end up paying. You're just being..."
"Adorable?" He smiled sweetly, failing miserably to escape his imprisonment.
Riku considered this description for a moment. "Yes," He said, dragging him along by the neck.
They arrived at the small shack, and Riku was positive that his skin was finally a healthy shade of tan. He looked down at his arms with a wrinkled nose. Even in this heat he was still the pallor of meringue. He shoved his inability to tan out of his mind just as a wafture of heated air cloaked his body. It was slow, and sticky, like tar. The breeze wrapped around him and wrung out the last bit of sweat through the pores in his skin. He rolled his eyes miserably in Sora's general direction, but he didn't seem near as affected as Riku felt.
Then again, he wasn't previously standing on a doorstep waiting for almost twenty minutes.
Still, Sora wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and Riku could see that Sora was beginning to suffer. His arms had a bit of sheen to them, and the expression on his face was of pure misery. "At least we don't have to wait long." Whom he was trying to reassure, Riku wasn't certain.
It was true though. The line wasn't especially long, as most people with reasonable intelligence were probably seated comfortably at home with the air conditioning on full blast.
Riku looked at Sora with his eyebrows hitched in a plea. "Maybe we should come back when the sun sets?"
"No way!" Sora screeched. "You promised me!"
"What if I promise something of equal value?" He rubbed his hands together. "Like, maybe we can go over to my house, and watch TV with the air on so strong that ice starts pouring form the vents like an arctic blizzard? How does that sound?"
Riku could have sworn that Sora gave a subconscious nod, but outwardly, he jabbed his thumb toward the shack with the old man in the window wearing a stained apron.
"Our turn will be soon."
Riku resisted kicking the sand, mainly because exerting the extra energy would have finished him right then and there. Sora was a stubborn one, and if he said no, that was that.
The line moved on quickly, though the three and a half minutes felt like spending eternity suspended in hot syrup. Even if they did make it to the front of the line, Riku wasn't sure he'd have te energy to pry the munny from the lining of his pocket.
"What'll you have?" The old man slurred. He slowly rubbed his hands on a towel, staining it with blue and red.
"Two cherry popsicles please!" Sora announced. His energy had been renewed somehow, and the heat swirling lazy circles around him didn't seem to matter anymore.
The old man nodded, tapping his fingers mechanically against the keys of the adding machine.
"Riku..." Sora jabbed him in the side with his elbow. His eyes were transfixed on a frosty block toward the back, spinning against a blade, cutting it into a delectable heap of shaved ice.
"Oh...sorry." Uncomfortably, he shoved his hand in his pocket, retrieving the munny and slapping it down on the counter. "Keep the change."
The man didn't even smile as he handed out the popsicles. He did, however offer out a curt "Next!" as Sora and Riku headed off to a small shaded area under a bent palm tree.
Sora ripped the plastic off, paying little attention as to whether or not it made it to the trash can. The expression on his face undulated from a sort of whet eagerness to calm satisfaction as he shoved the treat into his mouth.
Riku watched the scene with a touch of amusement as he unwrapped his own popsicle and plunged it into his mouth.
"So," Sora started, lying back into Riku's lap with a smudge of cherry syrup trailing down his chin. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"