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Reki had taken to chugging three energy drinks per day whenever there was a beef at S. One when he woke up, one around lunchtime because the caffeine helped him focus, and one right before a race.
Langa was very scared he was gonna get a heart attack, to which Reki said ‘well I only started shaking once’.
Usually, he would have two Red Bulls and a Monster, totaling 372 milligrams and not exceeding the limit and that was only some days. Other days, he would only have either a Monster or a Red Bull and chug water to prevent a heart attack.
Before Langa realized how much caffeine was the maximum, Reki would have closer to 600-800.
Yikes.
The limit is 400.
Reki laughed to himself as he gathered the week’s energy drink haul, remembering how scared Langa looked when he started doing the math. 372 a day wasn’t great, but it was much better than before. He reached for the Strawberry Monster, his personal favorite and read the blurb on the side.
‘They say if you share a double strawberry with someone then they’ll catch feelings for you.’
It was stupid, but Reki grabbed four and a fuck ton of Red Bull.
He struggled to carry all the cans, which made sense, considering he refused to get a cart to carry the 15 cans he needed. Unfortunately, he was at the Walmart that Langa worked at, meaning that the second he saw him, he insisted on helping. He abandoned the shelves he was stocking, leaving jars of Kraft Mayo in the middle of the aisle.
“Reki oh my god, what are you doing?” He asked, worry spreading across his face.
“Stocking up, what do you think I’m doing?” Reki huffed.
“Let me help you, idiot!” He insisted, carefully extracting eight of the Red Bull cans.
Reki ignored the spike in his heart rate, “what, no snarky remark about my potential cardiac arrest?”
“Oh, I’m still concerned, just less so now that you’re adhering to the recommended daily limit,” he shot him a smile that rendered Reki speechless because holy fuck he really needed to figure out how to get rid of his fruitless crush on Langa.
—
Reki set down the drinks on the conveyor belt rather unceremoniously, causing a harsh cacophony that made the cashier frown.
“Please tell me you’re sharing those death traps, homeslice.”
“Nah, gotta stock up,” he shrugged, digging for his wallet.
He glared at Langa, “bro, are you really letting your zesty bestie chug all these?” He tsked, “hashtag disappointed.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t chug three Bang energies yesterday,” Langa replied.
“This guy doesn’t have Whitey Pants McGee as a manager, he has no excuse.”
“Stop calling him that.”
“I can’t, broseph,” he pushed up his sunglasses (who the fuck wears sunglasses inside?), “it’s too accurate of a nickname.”
“Whatever, just ring up the drinks.”
“Death traps,” he corrected, remark followed by a series of beeps, “that’s like 9644.03 yen, cash or card, brochacho?”
Reki panicked, patting his jeans in search of his wallet. Before he could awkwardly tell the douchey cashier that he couldn’t pay, Langa held out his card.
“Alrighty, gonna assume you don’t wanna donate cuz you’re a douche,” he snarked, pressing buttons.
—
Langa watched Reki leave before walking back to the shelves he was supposed to be stocking.
“Bro, Langa, dude,” Dave put his hand on his shoulder, “you gotta tell that guy you wanna smooch him.”
Langa raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My bromie, I will literally help you get with this guy. That interaction was painful to watch,” he wrinkled his nose, “the two of you reek of Christmas because of all the pining you do.”
“Why do we reek of Christmas?”
“‘Cause pine trees? C’mon, Langa, get with the program.”
“Okay, yeah, fine, maybe I like him.”
Dave threw his arm around Langa, “there you go brotato chip, admitting your gayness is the first step towards getting a hot bitch. I would know,” he took a long swig of his Strawberry Monster and handed it to his coworker.
“What’s this for?”
“Read the blurb.”
—
Reki was still thinking about the stupid double strawberry thing when Langa sat next to him, skateboard in hand. He smiled and said something, but Reki was focused on the shape of his lips. No homo, though.
“Sorry, what’d you say?” He asked, regaining his composure.
“Oh, Shadow is bringing strawberries today. Apparently he grows them,” the sentence was punctuated with a shrug.
Reki felt his heart rate increase, wondering if they could split a double strawberry before pushing that (along with any other gay thought) to the back of his mind. He spent the entire beef waiting for Shadow to bring the berries, bouncing his leg in anticipation.
—
Langa sat back down (when did he get up?) with a basket of strawberries. Reki tried to be discreet in his search for a set of conjoined ones.
The search was interrupted by Langa tapping his shoulder, “look at this one,” he whispered.
He looked up to see two strawberries joined at the tips, forming a sort of infinity symbol.
“We should split it,” Langa suggested, taking a bite from one of the berries and handing Reki the second half.
His heart rate spiked as his fingers brushed against Langa’s before bringing the berry to his mouth and eating it.
—
Langa couldn’t believe he was taking Dave’s advice, but he slowly brought his hand to Reki’s. He dropped the leaves of the strawberry, which made Langa question if he was wrong, that it really was unrequited.
Then Reki actually held his hand, it was warm and his skin was rough where old injuries healed. Langa could feel the band-aid around his finger from his most recent fall.
“Langa,” Reki swallowed, trying to make his face return to a normal color.
He smiled, “yeah?”
“Are you from Tennessee?”
Langa raised an eyebrow, “no, Tennessee is in the US.”
“‘Cause you’re the only ten I see.”
“Oh,” he realized it wasn’t a genuine question a little late, which made him laugh.
Reki thought Langa looked beautiful when he laughed.
“What do you say we get out of here and get something to eat?” He asked, squeezing Reki’s hand.
“I’d like that.”
—
Reki shoved the basket of berries into Miya’s chest and muttered a quick goodbye before running off with Langa. They skated faster than usual as they approached All American Food. They rushed through ordering and sat at a table, hands clenched together underneath the table.
Reki blinked, the event of the night finally catching up to him, “oh my god, you’re so pretty,” he blurted before using his free hand to cover his mouth.
Langa laughed, “so are you,” and squeezed his hand comfortingly.
“Sorry, oh my god, I like…I’ve liked you for a while and I’m uh,” his mouth ran dry, “like uh, is this…are we like, you know, like-“
“I would like it if this was a date.”
The redhead inhaled shakily, “I would, too.”