I wake up cold, and the instant I'm conscious I feel my mouth get real dry, you know, the way it feels moments before you puke your guts out. Ignoring the pounding in my head and the sunlight like daggers in my eyes (and the fact that I'm completely naked), I roll out of Sora's bed and vomit violently into the little trash can underneath the bedside table. This goes on for a minute or two, until I spit the last of the greenish bile into the trash and wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. I feel absolutely disgusting.

Sora moans and rolls over in bed, and out of the corner of my eye I see him pull the covers up over his shoulder.

Now my stomach is aching from throwing up, my throat's burning, and as I look down at myself I realize there's dried cum on my lower abs. At least it's mine, I think, though that's not really much comfort. Every pore of my body feels completely clogged with congealed sweat from last night, and my hair hangs greasy and messy around my face. I sniff a little and rub my eyes, wondering when the last time I had a hangover this bad was, and it slowly sinks in that the reason my vomit smells like tequila is probably because that's the main ingredient.

Half of me wants to climb back into the bed, where it's theoretically warm, and the other half of me is desperate for a shower. Then I remember that Kairi's coming home today, and I kind of want to throw up again. Fuck, I'm a horrible person, I'm a horrible friend.

Sora throws the covers off and rolls back to face me, irritated.

"What the fuck," he says, and I want to punch myself in the face for thinking his morning voice is sexy.

I glare at him instead and force myself to stand up. I'm reconsidering my self-diagnosis of Hungover and switching it to Still Kinda Drunk, and I really, really need to shower.

"Can I use your shower," I ask in monotone, and he squints at me from the bed for a few seconds before nodding. I shiver in the January air and shuffle, still naked, into the bathroom, where I lean my head back against the closed door behind me.

Fuck. Fuck. I bang my head against the door once, then wince and decide against further self-harm; my headache is already monstrous enough as it is. Then I turn on the shower as hot as it'll go and take world's longest piss while I wait for the water to get hot. I need to get clean, to wash away last night. I want every atom of his saliva off of my skin, or better yet, I want to scrub away the entire outer layer of my skin and start fresh.

Or you could drown yourself in the bathtub, you backstabbing asshole.

The water's so hot I think I might emerge with serious burns, but I'm pretty sure I deserve it, so I leave it how it is and soap up. As good as it feels to scrub away the sweat and cum and spit, I feel like using Sora's body wash almost defeats the purpose. I'll smell like him all day.

The bathroom fills with steam, and I finish washing, but I stay in the shower anyway, letting the water beat down on my face until it suddenly turns ice cold and I do a little shower dance trying to turn off the water without getting under it. I guess part of me was hoping the hot water would never run out, that I could just stay there long enough and this whole situation would fade away. No such luck. Seeing no other towel options, I grab the aging, navy blue towel that's hanging up on the rack, and after drying off a bit, I wrap it around my waist and open the sauna door to the outside world.

Sora's leaning against the wall in between the bedroom door and the bathroom door, wearing the same gray sweats he wore the first night I stayed over here. I wonder why he feels the need to sag them as low as possible when he's clearly got nothing on underneath – I can see the top half of his Mercury tattoo, a faint trail of dark hair, two distinct lines of muscle riding down his hips.

He looks tired, but that's about it – nowhere near as bad as I feel. Asshole. He looks up at me as I exit the bathroom.

"Sorry," he says, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats. "About last night."

I shrug in some vague attempt at playing it cool. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to Kairi."

He looks suddenly alarmed. "You're gonna tell her?"

"Uh, well, yeah. I guess. Fuck, I dunno."

"Don't," he says quickly. "I'll tell her."

I raise my eyebrows, skeptical. "Will you actually? Because I'm not gonna lie to her. She's-"

"Your best friend, I know," he cuts in. "And she's my girlfriend."

For a moment, we're both silent, and I feel my hair stand on end in the winter cold. I wonder if the heat is even on.

"I should probably go," I say eventually, fingering the edge of my towel.

"Want breakfast?" he asks, jerking his head toward the kitchen. "Before you go."

I grimace, shaking my head. "I'll just throw it up. Are you seriously not hungover at all?"

"I don't get hangovers," he replies, rubbing his arms. "But look, don't leave yet. Just- just sit down for a minute."

Huh? This catches me off guard, so I follow his instructions, gingerly folding myself onto the couch in my towel. He flops down beside me, rubbing his temples, then doubles over, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What do I say to her?" he mumbles, head in hands.

I say nothing, mostly because I'm wondering the same thing.

"I guess, I mean… She's coming over tonight. I guess I'll just… I'll just tell her tonight, that I want to date her… exclusively. And then, um, and then she'll know that before tonight, we… weren't."

I snort. "That's a little underhanded, isn't it?"

"You don't understand," he says desperately. "I don't cheat on people. I just don't."

"Except for last night."

"No. No! Because- I mean, Kairi and I haven't even been together that long!"

"Close to a month," I remark, and this whole thing is way too stressful for me to deal with right now. I'm still a little buzzed, and my head feels like a hurricane.

"Look," I say. "Just do with it what you will, but do it tonight, and tell me what you're doing, and tell me when you're doing it. And from now on, you and I are never drinking together, ever."

"Alone together," he corrects me, and I guess that's acceptable.

Shaking my head, I sigh and look out the window. "I need to take a break from drinking anyway, just in general. It's starting to feel like I'm back in Stockholm."

"I thought you lived in Italy."

"I lived in a lot of places," I say shortly, and I feel my patience for Sora diminishing as my head threatens to implode. Sure he's hot, but right now he's also annoying me, and above all, he's ripping me and Kairi apart, and that pisses me off. No guy should be hot enough for that to be okay, and I can't believe I actually hooked up with him.

"Don't be like that," he says, shooting me a sideways glare. "This is just as much your fault as it is mine."

"You were obviously less drunk than I was," I retort. "And I tried to stop you."

"Oh, so now it's nonconsensual? That's fucking rich. What next, Riku, did I gag you with a rag full of chloroform and chain you to the bedpost?"

"I never said it was nonconsensual," I spit, staring pointedly out the window. "But clearly you don't remember when I stood up and told you to forget it, and that it was a mistake."

"Oh! Huh!" he says sarcastically. "I guess that would mean you were the more sober one, wouldn't it? So then, this is your fault for not actually stopping it when you obviously recognized that it was a mistake."

We glare daggers at each other for a moment, and I finally give up. "Fine. We take equal share of the blame."

Sora sighs, leaning his head back against the couch cushion. "Look, why don't we just… why don't we just keep what happened between us… between us."

"And not tell Kairi?"

"I'll tell Kairi that I slept with somebody. But I don't think she needs to know that that somebody was you."

I blink.

"It'll just hurt her," he says, closing his eyes. "It's never gonna happen again, right? So she doesn't need to know it was you."

I no longer have the energy to argue with him, and I don't really want to anyway. "Fine. Yeah. Whatever. Look, I have to go. I need to get out of here."

Sora watches me without a word as I stand up, collecting my clothing from various parts of the room. I don't look at him again before going into the bathroom to change, and when I come out, he hasn't moved.

Standing at the door, I sigh. "I'm sorry. Look… no hard feelings, okay? I'll just, I'll see you later. I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he says vaguely, and I close the door tightly before setting out on my own personal walk of shame.

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Upon arriving at home, I immediately strip off my clothes (they smell like the bar) and slip into a pair of plaid pajama pants I've had since before I dropped out of college. Collapsing into my bed, I fall asleep immediately, and when I wake up it's getting dark outside. I have three unread texts from Sora:

The first was sent shortly after I left, and reads: "any idea why theres a huge wad of wet papertowels on my kitchen floor? im afraid to touch it…"

Then, sent not long after the first: "nvm was just h2o. why the fuck its there i still hve no idea"

The third and final text appears to have been sent maybe a half hour before I woke up, and reads: "w kai now. told her want to date just her. shes stoked. told u itd be fine."

I flip my phone shut, set it back on my bedside table, and fall back asleep.

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The next few weeks I'm completely buried in work. All my years of slacking are apparently coming back to haunt me – they want my book out in September. This puts me into an absolute panic at first, because of course, my final edits weren't the actual final edits, and now there's a complete shitstorm of revisions to be made. I remind myself that people make entire babies in nine months, and really that's plenty of time, except that I don't actually have the entire nine months to work on it, and it's already almost February, and so on, and so forth.

The upshot is that it's unbelievably easy to avoid alcohol when you're that busy. In fact, I hardly even have time to socialize at all until mid-February. I think I see Kairi twice and Sora once in that time, and I spend Valentine's Day hunched over my keyboard, frantically trying to finish off the last of this particular batch of edits.

I plan to sleep all day on the 15th, as it's my first real day of rest in a month, but Kairi wakes me up with a phone call at noon. Yawning, I manage to mash the phone against the side of my face and mumble some kind of greeting before it stops ringing.

"Baby, you sound terrible!" she exclaims, her voice piercing my cloudy consciousness. "Are you okay?"

"Mmmfine. Yeah. I was up really late last night finishing some… book crap. All done now. I have a week off."

"Seriously? I get you for a whole week?"

I laugh a little, then cough to clear all the nighttime junk out of my throat and roll over onto my back. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a really long time. It's been like… two weeks."

"You're telling me, buddy! Oh, Sora says hi, by the way."

"Hi Sora," I mumble, and I'm reminded that today marks exactly one month since we hooked up.

Not that I haven't thought about it since then. God knows I've thought about it. Even when I tried not to think about it, there were dreams. Ohhh yeah, there were definitely dreams. Insatiable, neverending, vastly enjoyable dreams – like before, except with a hefty side helping of guilt upon waking up that wasn't quite as bad before. You know, when the dreams weren't based on a true story.

"Today's our one month," Kairi says, and I snap back into the present.

"Yeah. That's cool. Even though it's kind of more like two. I mean, you guys started dating in December."

"Well yeah, but we had this whole, I dunno, this whole conversation. The day I got back from visiting my folks, actually! He was so sweet, ohmygod. Anyway, he gave me a bracelet for Valentine's Day, annnnd basically, he's the best boyfriend ever."

"That sounds… great. Hey, we should hang out though. You and me. I miss you. But I just woke up, so give me an hour or so to shower and everything," I say, pointedly changing the subject. "I mean, unless you're doing… anniversary stuff."

"Oh, no, not at all! We were gonna make a lasagna for dinner tonight over at Sora's place, but you should come!"

"Ahh… Sure. Yeah. I can come."

I figure if I agree to it before I can talk myself out of it, I'll be forced to go.

This turns out to be completely and utterly true. Come evening-time, I'm straightening out my shirt in front of the mirror, feeling absolutely helpless with a side of through-the-roof anxiety. Every fiber of my being wants me to call Kairi and cancel. Because it's not just her one month with Sora, it's mine too. Except for me, it's one month without Sora. One month since I got a bitter taste of what I could have had if I hadn't asked Kairi to come with me to Gaston's those few months ago.

This gets me thinking. And the thing is, at this point, I honestly don't know what I feel for Sora. I'm certainly attracted to him physically. He's pretty much the epitome of everything I've ever found attractive in a man; tan, fit, tattooed but not too tattooed, no piercings, a little bit shorter than me, and God damn, those eyes. But why is the idea of seeing him tonight so unbearably uncomfortable? I mean, aside from the whole betrayed-my-best-friend-for-him thing, which is essentially resolved (kind of), why am I standing in front of my mirror wondering if I should part my hair in a different spot?

I honestly have no idea. So I try out different ideas and consider my gut reactions. The idea of kissing Sora is definitely a welcome one, as is the idea of getting him in bed again. Then I think about dating him. You know, taking him out to dinner. It feels awkward just to think about it, so I think about going out for drinks with him, and that feels a whole lot more natural. Maybe because we've already done that. Maybe because somewhere way back in the devious, selfish part of my brain, the idea of getting drinks with Sora means getting drunk with Sora, which could theoretically mean getting naked with Sora. Again. Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, subconscious. I shake myself out of that train of thought and try to find more angles on the situation. I think about talking to Sora, just talking, and it seems comfortable enough. I remember distinctly thinking about how easy it was in the past, and I wonder if it still will be.

Then suddenly I'm flashing back to that night, to Sora on the kitchen floor, his hair falling over his face and his eyes staring not really at his knees but someplace much further away. I remember him telling me about Jane, and I remember the impulse that strangely, I didn't act on – the impulse that told me to wrap my arms around him and hold him close, to let him lay it all out on me and use me any way he could to take his pain away.

Then I think of his crooked smile and something tightens in my chest. I blink, then reach for my jacket with a sigh. There's snow falling soft and slow on the skylight, and I realize as I step purposefully down the stairs that yeah, I'm a grown-up now, and part of being a grown-up is learning some goddamn self control. I wave goodbye to Demyx in the living room and shut the front door behind me with a newfound clarity. Yeah, I want Sora, but it's time to be realistic. Sora's just a friend to me, and what happened that night was a fluke. I mean, that's just how it is, right? Right?

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Kairi answers the door at Sora's place, and as soon as I step inside, I'm nearly bowled over by how amazing the lasagna smells. Any anxiety I'd had kind of melts away, and I grin as she tackles me with a hug.

"You!" she cries, kissing me on the cheek. "Busy man, I've missed you!"

"What can I say, I'm not a bum anymore."

"Yeah, now you just work 16 hours a day for weeks at a time!" Sora calls from the kitchen. I nod a hello to him when he looks over his shoulder at me, and the second we make eye contact my well-constructed defenses begin to crumble.

"Well, either way, I hope you're ready for the best food of your life," Kairi announces, spreading her arms wide as she heads back into the kitchen. "Because… well. You're about to have it."

"Anti-climactic," I murmur, smirking at her. She smacks me on the arm before turning to check the lasagna. Sora pronounces it done, and after taking it out of the oven, he instructs us to let it cool a little bit while he runs out to the store to get a six-pack.

"I'm not drinking these days," I mention half-heartedly, and he raises an eyebrow at me before heading out the door.

"Really? Any particular reason?" Kairi asks, looking more concerned than I'm really comfortable with. I shouldn't have brought it up, I think. Now I'll have to talk about it.

I shrug. "Just… I was just drinking a lot before. Figured it'd be good to take a break. And I've lost a little weight since I stopped, so I figure it must be good for me."

"I thought you looked skinny," she says, poking at my stomach.

It's true, too – not that I really needed to lose much weight, but between sleepless nights spent working and cutting out binge drinking, some of the extra I'd been carting around has melted away. It's always nice to be able to see your muscles, and I'm thinking I'd kind of like to keep it this way.

"Don't go manorexic on me," she adds, and I laugh for a moment before I realize she's kind of serious.

"Look, I've been living off cup noodles and black coffee at my desk for the past month, of course I'm looking a little haggard. But I've got some time off, I'll get my health back. Believe me, if I were developing an eating disorder, you would be the first to know, Kairi."

This seems to calm her a little, and I eat a couple of chips out of the bowl on the table for good measure.

"See?" I say, chewing loudly. "I eat. I just don't drink. Or, I mean, it's not so much that I don't drink, but that I haven't been drinking. It's not- I mean- never mind."

Before she can get back into it, I attempt a subject change. Unfortunately, the first thing that catches my eye to talk about is her bracelet. It's thin and silver and there's a little heart charm on it.

"I like the bracelet," I say, through my mouthful of chips, and her face breaks into a smile as she looks down at it.

"Oh my God, I know, I love it too! But now I feel bad, because I didn't get him anything. I mean, I didn't want to make a big deal out of one month unless he wanted to make a big deal, and then last night, we're in bed and it's midnight, and he reaches across me and pulls this box out of the drawer!"

"A total surprise, then?"

She nods. "Totally. He was so sweet, he pulls it out and I was like 'What?', and then he puts it on my wrist and he goes 'Happy one month, babe' and kisses me on the cheek and goes back to sleep! It was the sweetest thing ever!"

I eat another chip in an attempt to avoid having to say anything. What I've learned about women over time is that if you don't say anything, they'll just keep talking.

"Seriously," she says, like clockwork. "I just- I really like him, Riku. I mean, I can see this really… going somewhere."

The chip gets caught in my throat and my coughing interrupts our conversation for about a minute. Kairi offers to do the Heimlich, but I wave her off and get a drink of water.

"You ok?"

I cough one last time, then take a deep breath. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry, you were saying, um, you really like him."

She smiles. "Yeah. I really do. He's… he's different, you know? He's completely unlike anybody else I've ever met."

I nod. "Yeah."

"And," she says mischievously, "He's amazing in bed."

"Hmm," I say, and I take world's longest sip of water instead of actually responding. Unfortunately, Kairi's just shy enough to not talk about sex without explicit permission from whoever she's talking to, so after emptying my glass of water, I'm forced to speak.

"Go on," I say half-heartedly, refilling my glass.

"Well, and stop me if this is like, way TMI, but like, he actually gets me off, you know? And most guys don't," she says, checking my reaction. I carefully maintain my poker face, thinking idly that drinking all this water has got to be good for my skin. The thing is, as shy as Kairi can be, once she gets going, she has no qualms about telling me every detail of any given sexual encounter. It goes both ways, too – whenever I'm actually getting any, she always wants to know, and she wants to know details. I have never minded this in the past, but right now I'm trying everything I can not to think about the night I had with Sora, and thinking about Sora and sex at the same time is not the way to do so.

"Like, he really knows what he's doing," she continues. "And he's not into anything weird. I mean, you know me, what I consider to be fantastic sex is what most people consider to be boring sex. But what can I say? I love just feeling him on top of me, you know? It's just… sexy. Actually no, I lied, he does do one kind of kinky thing. He bites. I mean, not in a creepy way, he doesn't like, break the skin or anything. It's actually really hot. And it's not really kinky, now that I think about it. It's more like… cute. But you know, even if he were like 90% of men and even if he didn't know how to get a woman off, it would still be, I mean, it would still be… I feel like half the time the best part is just, um, I mean, just having him inside me, you know?"

Yeah, I want to say, I know.

Then the door opens, and Sora's back. There's a feeling building up behind a blockade I've put up in the back of my mind, and I ignore it as long as I can, making jokes instead as I set out plates on the table.

Then I'm using the spatula to cut out a square of lasagna, and Sora's standing right beside me, looking over my shoulder. Kairi's got her head in the fridge, trying to make a space for the beer, and I feel like the world is moving in slow-motion. Sora sighs, and I feel his breath on my shoulder. Then I'm turning my head, and Sora catches my eye for just a moment, and I feel like everything's underwater – muffled and slowed down to a crawl. I hear him ask me something, far away, and I watch his lips and his tongue moving just inches from my face. I'm mesmerized, and I feel whatever's building up in my mind coming to a head.

Then he puts his hand on my shoulder and points to the lasagna, and reality rushes back all around me. I feel everything at once. The wall I tried to put up before I came over has been completely obliterated and though I can't identify what it is I want to have happen, what it is I'm really feeling for Sora, I'm feeling it, and I'm feeling it bad.

I shake it off and laugh at the joke he's making about the food, and then Kairi's talking, setting drinks out on the table, and Sora's hand is still resting on my shoulder, a friendly sort of gesture, I assume.

Kairi takes the last plate to the table and tells us to come sit down. She's putting music on. Before I can move, I feel Sora's hand tighten almost imperceptibly on my shoulder.

"Hey," he says softly, and when I look up at him, I know I must look just as terrified as I feel. I try to identify everything I see in his eyes when he looks back at me, and I file away kindness and concern, understanding and what almost looks like frustration before I reach something I really can't read. Then he lets out a small, defeated sort of laugh, and he looks at me with this grin like I'm something he's trying to figure out before finally letting go of my shoulder and turning to head to the table.

---

In March, Zexion comes home for a weekend and Sora inherits a car.