our house

[promises_to_keep]

Who: Lea and Riku
When: Wednesday 11December
Where: Casa de Bro
What: It's move-in day! And the boys manage to find a way to make it awkward.
Warnings: Awkward dorks.


Lea whistled appraisingly as he stepped through the doorway of the attached apartment.

"Guess these dog breeders do pretty well for themselves, huh?" he asked blandly, turning to investigate the coat closet behind the door. It was a spacious place, fully furnished and everything, and Lea was kind of excited about it. No more bunking with strangers, no more closed metal hallways or canned air. "Oh look, there's even a couch!"

He crossed the living room and flopped backwards onto the sofa with a peaceful sigh, folding his arms behind his head.

"Yeah, I think I could get used to this place," he said. "I'll figure out something to bring in some income too, so you don't have to be such a workaholic." He waved a hand then. "I know you're still going to be. The difference is it'll just be of your own volition and not out of obligation to make ends meet."

Comments

[promises_to_keep]

Something that had coiled tightly in the base of Lea's spine came unwound instantaneously as Riku responded, and he sort of sagged where he stood. He knew he had something of a reputation for being lazy--and rightly so!--but this wasn't about a lack of motivation. Lea had always preferred to run away from a real fight when he had the option, but this time there was no option. He had a Keyblade now. He was supposed to be some guardian of light or something. And he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was doing.

Maybe Riku's reasons for wanting to stay were a little more noble (a little more excusable), but the fact that he wasn't ready to head home just yet either was a weight off Lea's shoulders. Part of him wasn't even sure why he cared so much, but... no, he knew why. It wasn't so much that he wanted to impress Riku as it was he wanted to be respected by him. He didn't want to be a screw-up anymore. He wanted the other guardians of light to take him seriously, to trust him, to depend on him, and that was so alien somehow. He was a turncoat, a traitor, and the idea of them wondering, even for a moment, if he would betray them too made him sick to his stomach.

He nodded noncommittally, not quite willing to air his concerns, then hefted a sigh.

"Sorry," he said, pulling at his neck, "didn't mean to make things heavy." He stretched his arms up over his head, then let them fall back to his sides and nodded toward the door. "You wanna like go get some groceries or somethin'? I know you've been itching to make some actual food."

He wouldn't deny he'd been itching to actually eat some.