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"Hey, Riku," comes Sora's contemplative voice from across the room, in a way that Riku knows means he's been thinking hard about something. He pauses where he had been flipping through an old magic textbook and glances up at Sora, expression blank.
"What is it?"
"I was thinking," Sora begins, and from the way he's sprawled over the edge of his bed, seeing everything upside down, Riku has to wonder if this is going to be a good or bad thing. All the blood rushing to Sora's head surely isn't helping either way. "If you're my dream eater, what does that make me?"
He cranes his head to lock eyes with Riku as he says this, and his are sparkling, entire galaxies swirling throughout them as he blinks. Riku wishes he could count the stars and match them with the freckles dotting Sora's cheeks.
He considers Sora's words for a moment. "Um... I don't know."
"Well, let's make something up!" Sora chirps, springing forward to sit upright, and Riku stifles a laugh when he sways from dizziness for a bit. Then he's bounding over to plop down on Riku's bed next to him, not a single thought spared for the textbook as he leans right into Riku's personal space. Riku doesn't really mind.
"Maybe I could be your... dreamer, or something!" Sora suggests, eyes even brighter up close, and Riku resists the urge to kiss him then and there instead of indulging his antics. He settles for taking his hand.
"My dreamer? No," he chuckles, shaking his head. "You're my..."
Riku turns Sora's tanned hand over to trace the lines on his palm, drawing a map into his skin. He takes in Sora's chestnut brown hair, spiky and untamed, and his ocean blue eyes that shine like the stars from a heart overflowing with dreams, and the constellations scattered across his cheeks and nose. Riku takes in everything that's Sora, and he finds he can't put him into words. Sora is just what he is, and the only way to describe him would be with everything or nothing at all. Sora is simply...
"...Sora."
There's a beat while Sora processes this, and Riku doesn't even realize what he's said until Sora breathes a laugh and repeats it back to him.
"I'm your Sora?" he quotes, grinning ear to ear, and while Riku doesn't miss the pink tinging his cheeks, he knows his own aren't much better after hearing his words said back to him. He ducks his head.
"It sounds stupid when you say it like that..."
"But it's true, isn't it?" Sora prods, and Riku can feel his face getting hot. "I'm your Sora?"
Well—yes, Riku didn't deny it, but at the same time he can't stand to watch his dignity crumble to dust right in front of him like this. How does Sora always manage to make him feel this way?
"I... yes," he mutters, shy, mapping out Sora's hands to ignore the butterflies filling his stomach. "My Sora."
And Sora positively glows at that, stopping Riku's fingers so he can squeeze his hands, and it's warm, everything about Sora is warm, and all Riku can feel is that he's home. And when Sora tilts his head back up, Riku doesn't stop him, only leans into his touch as their noses brush together.
"I like the sound of that," Sora murmurs, and this time, Riku doesn't hesitate to kiss him slowly, filling his heart with even more sparkling dreams.