This took forever to write, even excluding having to rewrite it after my computer fried itself and lost all memory. Ugh.

In my seven-year-old mind, the possibility that my best friend would ever kiss me hadn't ever occurred.

Especially my guy best friend.

But it had happened nonetheless.

Sora's lips had been petal-soft against my own chapped ones, I remember. I think I had wanted to close my eyes and kiss him back.

But as things turned out, I had all but shoved Sora off the crooked Paopu tree. The little brunet's eyes had been considerably wide as he toppled over and fell the decent drop to the sand below.

I immediately felt guilty when Sora's baby blues filled with tears as he clutched his bleeding elbow. Slipping off the trunk of the tree, I landed on the balls of my feet. Reaching out, Sora allowed me to pull his elbow over for inspection.

"S'not bad," I had announced as I dabbed the blood off with the hem of my shirt. "Jus' got the scab ripped off, s'all." Sora had taken a nasty fall earlier in the week on the dock, and had skinned his arm pretty badly.

Sora had sniffed, trying his hardest not to cry in front of me, because I was the boy they had all strived to be when we were younger; I never cried. Snatching his arm back, he looked away, his lower lip jutting out. Frowning, I stood. "C'mon, Sora. Let's go get some ice cream, 'kay? That'll make it better!"

I reached out a hand to help my best friend up, but recoiled when he asked in a quiet, wobbly voice, "How come you p-pushed me 'way?"

The frown on my face had deepened. Placing my small, fisted hands on my hips, I remember staring down at Sora in an irritated manner. "A'cause," I announced. "Boys ain't s'posed to kiss other boys, dummy!"

His next question had been just as innocent. "W-why not?"

"A'cause. Boys kiss girls!" I had snapped, angered that I didn't really know the reason for it other than I had never seen people of the same sex kissing. "Now c'mon. No more dumb-talk. Let's go get ice cream. We still hafta meet Kairi, 'member?"

"Y-yeah…" He sniffled one last time and picked himself off the ground. Grinning, he took off. "Race ya!"

I forgot that encounter soon after it happened, more important things on my mind (like Hide and Seek, and slaying imaginary monsters with all the other children).

And then it happened. I was eleven, turning twelve in two months, when my world was flipped upside down. It was my first year in middle school, and I had been rushing to class to avoid being tardy (I was still unused to opening my locker, and it gave me quite a hassle and made my walk to class more brisk).

I remember taking a short cut through building three. It was an eighth grade building, and most of the younger kids avoided it, but I was tall for my age, and often mistaken to be older than I actually was. I had been halfway through the white building when dark figures caught the corner of my eye. Fearing it was a school authority (the assistant principal had been on my case for tardiness lately), I had turned.

And promptly froze.

Two boys were wrapped together, leaning against the door to an empty classroom. The wet smacking of lips invaded my ears, and my cheeks must have been dusted pink.

The taller of the two (his hair was redder than a stop sign, and spiked out in a manner that made him look like a bloodied porcupine from behind) had the other (a tiny boy, with a dirty blonde, faux-mohawk) pinned to the door. And, in my eleven-year-old mind, looked like he was eating his face off.

I remember thinking, hysterically, that I was about to be late for class when the blonde's eyes cracked open and caught sight of me. He shoved the redhead off him and stared, his blue eyes wide, and glistening lips making a surprised and guilty "o".

The redhead had murmured a quiet "Demyx?" before turning around to see the cause of their interrupted moment.

Cat-like emerald eyes rolled in my direction. They were outlined in a deep red, and two strange markings – that looked suspiciously like eyeliner – made tear-shaped smudges under them.

"Uh…" I had stuttered dumbly, completely humiliated for being caught staring, and for the stumble of my words.

The redhead grinned at me. "Enjoy the show, pretty-boy?"

I was snapped out of my haze from his cocky tone and had enough dignity to glare at him before spinning on my heel and marching down the rest of the building.

"Okay, see ya later, then!" was called at my back.

I was late for class that day, and given a week's worth of detention.

(... Wow, that feels like so long ago.)

I'm seventeen, now, and completely open about my sexuality. All of my friends, and the majority of my other peers, are pretty accepting of it.

I've had a nasty little secret that's been eating at the back of my mind, though. It decided to make itself known about the time I entered high school.

And that would be that I, Riku Miyano, am in love with my best friend, Sora Koizumi. Who just so happens to be the same boy I was kissed by when I was younger; the same one I shoved off the Paopu tree and told that boys don't kiss boys.

Irony's a bitch.

He doesn't suspect, though. Or if he does, he doesn't let on. I'm not too obvious about anything, though, especially something I don't want known, so it's doubtful.

But I'm going to tell him. Because I have to. If he returns my feelings, and I'm too pathetic to ever even ask, then I'd never forgive myself.

I'm nervous as all hell, but there is a chance he does. He hugs me longer than he should, and leans against me when he's tired. He's kissed my cheek more than once, and he always wants to go somewhere with me.

Hopefully I'm not just over-analyzing things.

So here I am, leaning against the hall outside Sora's class. I decided to skip fourth block, not really in the mood for math, and much too jittery to even bother trying anything complicated like trigonometry.

I'm going to tell him today, when we're on our way to get ice cream, like we do every Friday.

I don't have to wait much longer before the bell rings and the classroom doors lining the halls are burst open with rushing students. Sora's one of the first ones out the door, and I grab him by the elbow to pull him ahead of the crowd.

We stop by his locker so he can toss his books in it, and then we're off campus, walking down the sidewalk, the smell of salt-water in the air.

I stop by one of the palm trees lining the concrete path. Sora pauses and looks back. "Riku?" he asked, and I have to swallow against my suddenly dry mouth.

"I need to tell you something." I close my eyes and take a breath, forcing myself to calm down. Even if he doesn't return my feelings, I know he's not going to hate me or abandon me. So there's nothing to be so freaked out about.

I swallow thickly before opening my mouth, and lie bare my soul.

He only looks at me with growing confusion, and I want to slap myself, because in my nervousness I never actually said anything straightforward enough to mean "I like you."

But then his eyes widen, and smile breaks across his face. Relief surges through me, and I cup his cheeks, slamming our lips together.

He kisses back, but it's no more than a slight shift of his mouth. And the next thing I know, I'm shoved so hard that I fall to the ground.

Sora's staring down at me, his eyes blank, and the smile on his face now sad, but also very bitter.

"W-what?" I managed to get out. My hands and ass sting from catching my fall.

"Silly Riku," he murmurs, and his eyes flash darkly. "Boys don't kiss other boys."

Air seems to rush passed my ears, and it's like I'm falling all over again. Whether it be in love, out of love, or simply down… I don't know.