Writing on the Wall

Disclaimers: Kingdom Hearts © Disney and Square Enix; everything else © their rightful owners.

WARNING: Strong language (derogative comments/language). Sexual themes (both implied and graphic).

A/N: Beta'd by Keldjinfae. Domo arigato, Mr. Rabbit-o.

Birthday giftfic for ShinraiFaith. =D

Happy birthday, babe. Sorry it's a day late. Hope you enjoy it, anyway.

Writing on the Wall

The wall said that the year of the cock plus the year of the snake equaled the year of the rabbit with a monkey on its back.

The wall also said that Riku liked it blew. That Kairi had crabs, Tidus fumbled balls during the big game, Wakka was big-BONEd, and Selphie whipped it good. It also said that Sora was a pansy, Sora was a fag, Sora liked it hard, and Sora sucked it off better than the best of them.

Nobody was safe from the bathroom wall.

In the boys' restroom in the southern wing of Destiny Islands High, the restroom farthest from faculty supervision during lunchtime and in-session classes, the notorious bathroom wall stood testament to adolescent revenge and amorality. Against the furthermost side of the restroom, there was a little pocket of space before the last stall met the wall--dirty and grimy, yes, but a space big enough for anyone to wriggle into with a Sharpie and write their nastiest messages on the off-white tile and plaster.

Negative, crude, obscene and apathetic rumors, scrawled on the bathroom wall in marker. It was typical and juvenile and utter ill will--but it was an anonymous forum for kids to vent on, absolutely free of charge, and as long as no-one recognized someone's handwriting, the rumor's starter was safe and the rumor's victim was miserable.

Knowledge that Riku liked it blew was just a rumor, as was that Kairi had crabs or was a hobag. If Tidus fumbled any balls during a blitzball match, it was purely game-related and not sexual. Wakka knew he was big-boned; so did everyone else. He was also frighteningly strong and intimidating, but he simply laughed his jolly laugh at the rumor on the wall. Selphie did not "whip it good", as the wall claimed, but she could definitely whip someone's ass if she needed to. And Sora...

None of them understood why there were so many mentions of Sora on the bathroom wall. He certainly didn't get around as much as the wall testified he did, and he didn't do much to get people so angry with him that they'd need to mar his reputation so brutally. Except for, maybe, being in a bad mood one day, letting his temper be ignited by the smallest of sparks. But that was normal stuff, stuff everyone was guilty of.

Sora was just a kid trying to make it by like any other sixteen-year-old, back on the islands for nearly a year now after twenty-nine months away from home. He was rough-and-tumble and scruffy around the edges, but sewn together perfectly inside, down past the depths of his baby blues. If he was a pansy, a fag, liked it hard, and if he sucked it off better than the best of them, that was for him to know and not anyone else. His friends didn't question the rumors, because just the very reminder of them made Sora's eyes grow stormy and his mouth set in a firm line, and he would get quiet. And Sora being quiet was something none of them wanted to bear the blame for, because Sora being quiet was a very bad sign. Because he was stronger after all their journeys, stronger than he was before, when he'd been a stumbling and uncertain little boy--because he didn't want to be wounded by such blatant ignorance because he was stronger now.

But this was high school. This was not as simple as saving the world, the memories of which were beginning to grow foggy in the backs of their minds, allowing normalcy until normalcy was shattered again. No, this was not so simple; high school was a different world than the one they knew, a darker world, an underground world where truth and morals didn't matter and intentions were usually complicated and intricate, where no smile was as real as it seemed to be.

And because of that, set apart and isolated from all the other rumors about Sora, there was a tally being kept.

On the bathroom wall, far to the side from where numerous girls and boys had left their thoughts on the brunet boy, in black permanent marker someone had written SORA'S MINE. And beneath this boldly underlined declaration, there were seven tally marks.

Everyone speculated what that one meant, but no-one knew for sure. Just like they speculated about everything on the wall; they speculated, but no-one fully understood why someone had written what they'd written.

And Riku hoped they'd all stay speculating until the day they died.

Outside, the weather was beautiful. It was late April, nearing the end of the school year and right in the middle of spring. Destiny Islands--the mainland as well as the surrounding islands--was bright and fragrant with blooming flowers and fresh crops, and the sky was always blue, the water always clear. The air was beginning to grow heavy as the days continued on the way to summer.

Destiny Islands High School was nearly adjacent to the ocean. The street separated the campus from a sharp slope towards sand, and the water was in view from the windows of the eastern side of the building. Palm trees and other tropical flora surrounded the school, giving life to the tennis courts and the pools, the track and the quad.

There was a blind spot to school faculty, near the southern corner of the big building. Between the school and the storage facility, there was an empty nook that was invisible to anyone looking out the windows because the storage building and a few palm trees blocked the view. In this nook, grass sprouted through the cracks in the concrete and the palm trees created comfortable shade, and it was this nook that students who wanted to be hidden from authoritative eyes loitered. Just a few at a time, some for regular cigarette breaks, others for romantic privacy, and sometimes those for the occasional avoidance of class.

It was in this nook on a sunny afternoon in late April that Riku met with Sora, when he should have been in a lecture about the Islandistic Articles of Confederation and Sora should have been taking notes on gerunds. But as it was, neither was attending their fifth period class, and both were actually tangled together between the school and the storage building, in the soothing shade of the palm trees.

The shadows moved languidly as the palm fronds casting them rippled in the gentle breeze, passing back and forth over the boys as Riku pulled Sora into another hungry kiss. Sora conceded to the tugging hands, following Riku to the warm concrete and straddling his hips; Riku sat with his back against the worn stone of the high school, knees drawn up to support Sora as he settled onto his lap. The brunet's fingers dusted Riku's neck, his shoulders. He felt pebbles and the grain of the old concrete, sharp below his knees and pricking them through his uniform pants.

"Mm," Sora hummed, leaning away and grazing his teeth over his lower lip, savoring the sound of his mouth leaving Riku's, memorizing the way it felt and tasted before he'd left it. Riku's eyes were heavy on him, piercing and possessive, and Sora couldn't prevent the grin that slowly spread on his face.

The school courtyard was empty. A girls' gym class had gone to the pool, blitzball in the curriculum, and their cries and giggles echoed in the vacant quad. The coach blew her whistle every now and again, and besides those sounds reaching them from the other side of the campus, it was quiet. Leaves rustled in the breeze. Birds called, somewhere, and very faintly, waves could be heard rolling in on the beach across the street.

Riku shifted, sitting up straighter, propping his feet flat on the ground, knees pushing Sora closer to him. Sora regarded him sideways, dark blue eyes devilish and innocent all at once. Sora liked these games, these Let's-Be-Normal-Kids games.

Riku liked them, too.

He liked when Sora made him uncomfortable at lunch, staring at him with heated eyes, bumping into him with every opportunity, touching his shoulder and whispering in his ear and grinning that mesmerizing grin. He liked when he had to shift around, to try not to blush, to not get too aroused even though he longed to just grab Sora by the wrist and start some real action, to end Sora's devious, dangerous games of flirtation.

Riku craned upwards, raked his fingers up Sora's neck and tangled them in his messy hair. He didn't have to pull at him so much as Sora got the message and initiated another deep, sensual kiss, his body rocking and Riku's stretching and the sound of their mouths working together--wet, soft, uninterrupted--filling the space around them.

A small pile of gravel crunched as Riku shifted positions again, heel of his tennis shoe dragging through the loose rocks as he gasped against Sora's lower lip, needing oxygen even though he was very much enjoying the taste and the feel of the kiss. Kind of like lunch, with a metallic tang to the insides of his cheeks and the sides of his tongue, like Sora was scared or something.

Sora leaned back against Riku's thighs, arms above his head, before falling to fold behind his neck. So typically Sora, being relaxed and casual even in the most opposite of moments. Riku ran his fingers through his own hair, getting it out of his eyes only for it to fall back into them. "Hey..." he breathed out, raising his brows. He loved this bliss, this high, this feeling Sora sent him reeling with, this juvenile and chaste heart-fluttering, stomach-twisting, muscle-tingling, breath-catching delight.

Sora stared at him, as though he hadn't cared they were in the middle of a make-out session when he'd begun to stretch like a sleepy cat. Dropping his arms, he smiled softly. His hands fell into Riku's lap, fingertips a barrier between two blue plaid flies.

Riku reached up then, without explanation, expertly hooking a finger in Sora's tie and undoing it, pulling it from the collar of his shirt. Sora blinked, meeting Riku's eyes inquisitively. Riku peered at him as he began to unbutton the boy's shirt, drinking in Sora's presence as he did every time--Sora's perfectly curved face, smooth cheeks and soft brow, endless eyes and dark lashes. His eyes caught on Sora's lips and he sighed, fingertips lagging on a button. They looked so delicious, just barely parted, perpetually pouty when Sora wasn't beaming his patented smile.


Riku's gaze flickered up to meet Sora's again, his fingers stopping three buttons down. "What?"

Sora shrugged, looking a little confused. Good. Riku grinned, winding his arms around Sora's torso and tugging him forward. He pressed his nose to Sora's neck, breathing deep, taking in the scent of Sora's skin. He smelled like suntan lotion and salty air, and Riku guessed he hadn't taken a shower last night after they'd all left the old play island. But behind that, he still smelled strongly of himself--sweet and earthy, and kind of spicy where he'd spritzed himself with body spray. Riku liked the familiar smell. He liked it when it was on his pillowcase and sheets, too.

Sora took a sharp breath as Riku trailed his nose further down his chest, over his collarbone and to the skin he'd just exposed. His school shirt was unbuttoned far enough to reveal the upper half of his chest, and Riku's breath was hot against it. Sent shivers up and down his spine.

Riku kissed Sora's collarbone. Sora sighed in content. Riku kissed lower than that, between Sora's ropy pecs. Sora breathed a lighter sigh. Shifted slightly, his thighs brushing Riku's sides and his buttocks pressing ever closer to Riku's crotch. Riku reached up, unfastening a fourth button, pulling Sora's shirt open and placing a kiss just over his heart, on his left pectoral. Sora sighed a third time, this one a bit more needy. His thin fingers moved up the back of Riku's neck, over the swell of the bones there, up into his hair. He'd gotten it cut recently, just to his shoulders, and in the shadows here in this secret place between the school and the storage facility, it didn't look silvery platinum so much as it looked tinted with blue.

Riku's mouth was suddenly on his nipple, the sensitive skin assailed by hot breath, dry lips, hot spit, swirling tongue. Sora gasped sharply, back arching. His lashes fluttered, fell to half-mast. His cheeks flushed and chills snaked from one end of his spine to the other and back again.

"Riku..." he said again. Riku didn't reply. Instead he continued, slowly, slowly, even though the sounds Sora was making were driving him crazy. Made his skin prickle with goosebumps of pleasure, made his stomach knot and the muscles between his legs begin to really awaken. Hands moving along Sora's sides, his fingertips caught on the end of his shirt. Skin brushed skin as his hands kept moving, up and down. Sora wriggled. His knuckles fisted in light, silvery hair as Riku intentionally ran a thumb over the neglected half of Sora's chest, teasing him.

"Riku--" Sora was hissing it out now, shaking his head, squirming away. "Riku, not here, no way, nuh-unh--"

"Stop it," Riku whispered, pulling back to frown up at the brunet. He knew Sora was getting just as excited as he was; any resistance was definitely forced. "I know not here. Just relax, Sora."

Sora licked his lips, imploring eyes glued on the older boy. This was payback, of course. Payback for what he'd done at lunch. God, they were both so childish sometimes--

Riku rocked upwards, crotch rubbing into Sora's. Sora gasped again, caught off guard. But then Riku's fingers curled in the open collar of his shirt and Sora was thrusting forward and they were kissing again--long, wet, sloppy kisses, bodies rolling against one another's.

At the pool, the girls' gym coach wailed on her whistle again. Overhead, a gull squalled.

Sora groaned, toes of his tennis shoes scraping the concrete. Riku's knees held him in perfect position as he rocked down onto him, held him at the perfect angle for Riku to thrust and grind his ever-stiffening crotch into that sensitive spot just behind Sora's balls. The sensation made Sora's gut twist, made the muscles in his groin tighten, made his breath come shorter and his heart race.

Riku panted in uneven gulps near Sora's chin, feeling rather light-headed. He recognized Sora's movements. They were familiar, the same ones Sora used when they were really doing it, late at night after his parents had gone to bed and they were both hidden away in his bedroom, tangled in the bed sheets and sweating in the sticky summer night air. They were the same movements Sora used when he was riding him, clutching at his chest as Riku slid in and out between his thighs, bodies awkward and yet somehow moving with perfect correlation. The recollection of being so close, of being slick with spit and sweat, of being skin-upon-skin, of the clenching and the squeezing and the feel of it--

Riku uttered a little moan as his body reacted to the memory and he shoved his hands beneath Sora's loosened school shirt, dragging his fingers up and down his body. His skin was so smooth, so soft, maybe too soft for that of a teenage boy--but under such soft skin, his slim muscles were very well-defined. Riku let his thumbs cross Sora's pecs, over his nipples again, and Sora moaned louder, bit his lip and looked to Riku in apology.

"This is why I said nuh-unh," he spat, but his cheeks burned a bright red and Riku knew he wasn't denying him at all.

"Then be quiet," the silver-haired boy insisted, and grinned sheepishly at Sora's rolling eyes and little scoff. His heart was still pounding from the sound Sora had made. "You want the janitor to find us?"

Sora's jaw dropped and he glared at Riku incredulously, gave him a rough shove in the shoulder. "No! I don't!"

Riku smiled to himself and picked up on his rhythm again, thrusting up against Sora. The pent-up relief was addicting. Sora's head rolled to the side and shaggy brown hair fell across his eyes as he wound his arms around Riku's shoulders, draping over them, at first just feeling the movements of Riku grinding into him, then joining the dance and rolling his lower body in turn.

Their bodies moved together for minutes on end--long, wonderfully unbearable minutes--before Sora's fingers searched for Riku's and he dragged his hand between his legs. Riku grunted, eyes rolling as they opened suddenly. Sora met his gaze with adamant blue, lips parted and breath coming in quick gasps, and Riku obeyed the silent demand. He dragged his palm over the bulge in Sora's pants, and as his hand continued to stroke and grab, grope and fondle, Sora's breath came shorter and sharper, his limbs twitched and he crumpled forward, and when his forehead bumped into Riku's shoulder, Riku attempted to multi-task, thrusting and grinding and groping all at once.

Sora came less than a minute later, body jerking and shoes scraping the concrete and breath hitching, squeaking, cracking in Riku's ear.

The coach sounded her whistle again somewhere on the opposite side of the courtyard and the voices of the girls across the campus grew much more enthusiastic.

Riku sighed heavily and tipped his head back against the wall behind him. Closed his eyes, listened to Sora breathe, flopped on his shoulder, strengthless and post-orgasmic. The feel of his body, limp on his, was comforting--and teasing. The girls' gym class sounded closer, and the door to their locker room swung open. The voices disappeared into the building with the class, a high-pitched buzz of gossip and squeals and laughter.

When the door clunked shut, Sora finally moved again. He sat up, hands pressed to Riku's shoulders to keep him down. Riku blinked, startled, staring up at him with a knotted brow. Sora licked his lips, tossed messy brown hair out of his eyes, and promptly began to rock down onto Riku's obvious erection. It struggled against the fly of his pants, stiff and impatient, and it was tempting as he rode down against it, purposefully pressing his buttocks and that same sensitive spot just beyond his crotch against Riku's hard-on. He knew it would feel so good to actually ride him right now, to yank his pants down and unzip Riku's and just fuck him. To get fucked. He'd probably even come a second time if they did that, feeling him hard and ready and throbbing, not just against him, but inside him--

But there were two big problems there, one being that they were on school grounds and not alone enough to be that intimate; second being that they'd used the last condom Tidus had given them almost a week ago, and being so rash and impulsive as to abandon that protocol would probably hurt.

Riku sucked in a breath, shuddered, clutched onto Sora's thighs as Sora moved; the spot between Sora's legs that he was rocking into him was hot, even through his pants. Warm and taut where Sora's legs were spread and the seams of his pants stretched. Riku could just imagine what part of Sora lay beyond the fabric blockade, what part of Sora he'd be rubbing against if Sora had been naked. He gritted his teeth against a pleased moan; the beginnings of it slipped from the back of his throat and he squirmed. But Sora held him down with ease--perhaps because Riku sincerely didn't want him not to--and ground down into him, his legs aching from the position and the strain, and just as he was really wondering how much longer he could continue with this motion, Riku reached release, too.

In the nook between the school and the storage facility, shielded by brick buildings and palm trees, Riku clapped a hand over his own mouth and bucked, sharply, jerked along on the string of his orgasm. Sora let his legs relax but kept grinding as Riku came, feeling his cock pulse behind the few layers of clothing. Felt the friction lessen as the front of Riku's pants grew damp.

Riku's kiss was hard and hungry after Sora had climbed off him, and Sora's kiss was slow and sensual as they made their way to the southern corner of the building, his tie in his back pocket and his shirt buttoned back up. Their fingers stayed laced until they turned the corner, but once they were back in public view and hurrying towards the door they'd snuck out of, they were Just Friends again and Just Friends didn't hold hands. Especially not male Just Friends.

In through the glass door they went, looking both ways for any sign of hall monitor or teacher, skittering down the hall, racing the clock to make it to the locker room before the bell rang.

In the locker room, they both switched out their pants for their gym shorts. Snickered at each other, discussed whether anyone would make the connection or not, what with both of them cutting class and both of them wearing their gym shorts instead of uniform pants. Sora came up with the story that they'd both been at the same water fountain and it had malfunctioned, gone on the fritz, got them both wet. So they'd changed. It was a good enough explanation, Riku decided, and they sat together in the empty boys' locker room, side by side on a bench, until the bell rang not even ten seconds later.

Out in the hall, back in the crowds of other students, Sora cast a profound glance at Riku as he rounded the corner just before his math class, a sly smile quirking at his lips. Riku smirked, crossing his arms. Felt his stomach knot up, his chest lock as he watched Sora bob away down the hallway, knowing that Sora was his and his only and he always would be. There had been a point he didn't think he'd ever get to think that again, but here he was, standing in school of all places and thinking that stupid Sora was his and he didn't want it any other way.

"Hey, Riku."

Kairi smiled as she passed him, turning in the same direction as Sora. They had the same math class. Riku nodded to her, smile fading. "Hey."

"Skipped class again, hunh?"

Riku cut a glance to her as she walked backwards down the hallway, grinning at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You guys ran past the room I was in, dummies. Talk about obvious."

Riku frowned sharply. "Go to class," he grumbled, and she laughed, turned and sprinted off to join Sora on the way to Geometry.

Riku joined the flow of hallway traffic.

In the boys' restroom in the southern wing of Destiny Islands High, the restroom farthest from faculty supervision during lunchtime and in-session classes, the notorious bathroom wall stood testament to adolescent revenge and amorality. Against the furthermost side of the restroom, there was a little pocket of space before the last stall met the wall--dirty and grimy, yes, but a space big enough for anyone to wriggle into with a Sharpie and write their nastiest messages on the off-white tile and plaster.

Set apart and isolated from all the other rumors about Sora, there was a tally being kept. Far to the side from where numerous girls and boys had left their thoughts on the brunet boy, in black permanent marker someone had written SORA'S MINE and underlined it boldly.

Beneath this declaration, there were now eight tally marks.