Author's Notes: Okay, even if you think the beginning is unbearably cheesy, please read this to the end. :-) It does have a twist. I originally wrote this story over four years ago, and when I recently re-read it, I thought my eyes were going to bleed. My God was I an awful writer back then! (hides in shame) So I yanked this terrible piece off the interwebs and completely re-wrote it. Now it's better. A little.

Disclaimer: Property of Squeenix, you know the drill.

Warnings: May actually jump out of the screen and possess you to be gay if you read this. No, really. But apart from that, nothing bad here. Feel the luuuurv.

Length: One-shot, complete. Yay!

+ Ordinary Day +

+ A Riku x Sora One-Shot +

The room was quiet and if it hadn't been for the occasional rustle of sheets, one could have been forgiven for not noticing that two people were huddled against the sheets. It was only if you looked carefully that you could make out the two small shapes cutting against the darkness. One, the smaller one cowering at the edge of the bed, knees drawn to his chest, spiky head buried between his arms; the other, larger one laying a couple of inches away, his long silver hair spilled out around him in a corona against the white pillow sheets.

Silence had hung itself over the quiet scene, and was only pierced when the the smaller boy raised his trembling voice. "I just... can't" he whispered, drawing his knees closer to his chest, small fists clenching. "No matter how hard I try, I just can't."

"Sora," the other shape muttered, a stir moving through his slender body like ripples through still water. His voice was wrapped into the tenderness of affection - the tone of a best friend, a lover. But he chose not to say any more, and the scene was plunged into silence once more.

For a long time - Sora thought it might have been an hour, maybe two - the spiky-haired brunette finally found the courage to say something. "You don't have to say anything. I know it's my fault." He was trying to reason with himself, but his voice revealed that the wounds were still bleeding, still fresh, for it was trembling as he spoke, every word harder than the next. "I... know I screwed up. I'm... sorry, Riku."

It was obvious how hard this was tugging at the small blonde's otherwise so lively spirits. Deep, furious anger he had reserved for no one but himself was ripping through him, and Riku noticed how his lover's lean little muscles, muscles he had bitten, caressed, kissed, felt thousands of times were twitching in tightly-knit tension.

The sheets rustled as Riku sat up, revealing the length of his body to the air, smooth planes of skin dipped into the ghostly light coming from the TV. Riku continued regarding his lover out of deeply concerned turquoise pools for long, silent moments and it was not before he felt he could scarcely bear looking that he quietly, tenderly suggested, "maybe... maybe we could try again later. When you have calmed down, I mean."

"Don't be so nice!" Sora interjected passionately, the first hints of involuntary anger lending a sharp edge to his voice. He lifted his head to look at the silver shape that was Riku. His chest was lean and narrowed down into beautiful hips, his hair was cascading down his shoulders and made him look beautiful, almost surreal. Guilt reared its ugly head inside Sora and twisted in his intestines. The smaller boy bit down on his lip even harder, nervously batting his eyelashes and running his hand through his hair.

"You saw I couldn't do it! You saw. I disappointed you," Sora sputtered, caught up in his misery and his inability to comprehend how a man so beautiful could ever come up with the patience to tolerate his bouts of childishness.

"It's okay. Really," Riku assured him, shifting his gaze to take in Sora's nude form. The flickering light of the TV lent to the scene an almost dream-like, heavy quality, not unlike like the feeling of stirring awake at night, finding the world still plunged in the purest form of darkness, but feeling your lover's warm body pressed against yours. Never giving in to your instinct to thrash about, your heart is never sent into a terrified gallop; all you feel is comfort and a form of happiness so pure and precious that Riku could still not quite grasp it, even after all those years of sharing his life with Sora. It was exactly that dream-like right feeling then and there in that room.

A small smile danced around Riku's full lips.

Ordinary day. It was a day like any other in their lives.

"This has never happened before! I don't understand," Sora cried. He shuddered and his eyes looked lost, as though his thoughts were scattered all over the place.

Sora raised his head as he felt a comforting, warm hand wrap itself around his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Riku was looking at him - quietly, patiently. Sora felt a small tremor storm into his body at the sight of those enigmatic green eyes, felt butterflies searing to life inside his stomach as he detected the love blooming deep inside them.

It was in perfect unison that Sora's eyes melted into Riku's eyes and his body melted into Riku's. As strong, familiar arms wrapped around him, Sora felt himself calming, felt the unease drip out of him and pool to his knees. Tranquility spread through him at Riku's touch, just as they always did.

Ordinary day, Riku thought. How he loved those days.

Sora nuzzled his face against Riku's chest, breathing in the scents he had been waking up and falling asleep to for the past couple of years but that still managed to smell better than any perfume. Sora shuddered as he felt his lover's hands making small, massaging circles with his palm on Sora's tensed-up shoulders. It was a personal ritual between them which they had developed perhaps about half a year into their relationship after Riku had found out that Sora slid into massages like a purring cat, that he managed to banish the demons plaguing the brunette's mind with some well-adjusted kneads of his hands.

It was no different, then. Riku could feel Sora relaxing, but he knew all too well that the smaller boy would not be able to let go just yet.

The silver-haired boy knew that Sora took these things seriously. He didn't really share that notion, couldn't really understand Sora's unwavering passion when it came to that, but he nevertheless treated it with the respect it deserved. He lowered his head to Sora's ears. "It's really no problem at all. We can try again later."

Sora jerked in Riku's arms, snapping his head up to once again look their gazes. Ocean eyes met eyes the color of tossed-up waves in a lagoon.

"I... I can't," Sora stuttered, deep regret marring his usually so cheerful features.

Riku smiled - an open, loving, faintly amused smile - then lowered his head and lovingly pressed his lips against his smaller lover's. He could feel some more of the tension leaving Sora's body as their mouths fused together, as their tongues met and shivered against one another. Riku had savored Sora's taste - light like a sea breeze, yet still heady enough to cause sensory overload in his brain, turning it into a muddy heap of pleasure - hundreds, thousands of times, but he couldn't ever imagine himself getting tired of that taste. At the feeling of Sora's eager tongue probing into him and exploring his mouth, he couldn't ever imagine the excitement he felt to dim, the love smoldering in his body to cool.

Sora was such a good kisser. He was good at everything. Except for...

Pulling away softly, Riku got up, looking at the smaller boy intently, but with a small smile around his lips. "We try it now," Riku announced. His smile grew. "Don't even think of talking your way out of it."

Sora looked away, his cheeks reddening.

Riku laughed at the brunette's display of shyness, feeling waves of affection rolling against the shore of his love.

What an ordinary day.

"Here", Riku said with playful stubbornness, gently slipping it between Sora's fingers, "just try it. We've got nothing to lose, right?"

"If you can call my sanity nothing," Sora murmured under his breath, but clutched his fingers around what Riku had given him. His face was in the process of writing a poetry of inner conflicts. "You know the last time we tried this, I bit into this in frustration."

"Well, this time you won't have any reason to bite."

"I just suck at it!" Sora moaned, his fist gripping around what Riku had slipped into his palm.

"Oh, come on, don't you think you're taking this just a tad too seriously?" Riku teased. "You're adorable when you're pissed because you died playing Kingdom Hearts, though."

"But... " Sora protested, gripping the controller even tighter, "but... it was so mean how that witch killed me the last time! I mean, why isn't she dying? What an ugly piece of..." Sora trailed of, pouting and looking at Riku's loving face. He knew, deep down, that Riku was right. Of course he was. Riku was always right.

Sora sighed. "Fine, let's try it again."

"Sure. Just keep hitting her back, I'll keep an eye on your life bar and tell you when to heal."

Sora nodded, trembling. "We can do it, right? I... I really hate losing, Riku!"

Riku nodded knowingly. "Of course we can."

"And we will!" His spirits along with his hope returned. "We will kick her ass!"

"And the boss after that and the boss after!"

"And beat the game!" Sora cheered.

"That's right," Riku said.

They looked into each other's eyes, silent understanding passing between the two of them. They smiled, and pressed the start button for another, hopefully not so crushing round of video gaming.

It was, after all, just an ordinary day in the lives of Riku and Sora, lovers and comrades.

A day like any other.

Ordinary, and happy.