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Kairi wedges a bottle into the sand when she sits down, kicking one long leg over the other and leaning back on her elbows.
“What in god’s name is that?” Riku asks, from somewhere above Sora’s head, which is situated happily on Riku’s lap. The liquid inside the bottle is virulently pink, which is probably what’s making Riku sound so much like an offended auntie.
“Bubblegum lambanog,” Kairi says, a laugh in her voice. Sora figures it’s 50/50 she’s laughing at Riku, and his immediate disgusted euchh. The other half-chance is that she’s drunk.
Sora’s pretty drunk himself, and Riku probably wouldn’t be speaking in full sentences if he weren’t so tall and unfairly tolerant of alcohol, so Kairi can’t possibly be far behind.
Riku and Sora trailed away from the party maybe twenty minutes ago, bottles of whatever liquor they didn’t think had anyone would miss in one hand, the others clinging to each others’ asses (to help stay upright as they stumbled over the sand, of course.) Kairi had stayed behind, engrossed in an impromptu Cups game with Selphie and Penelo on the closed lid of a beer cooler, ignorant of Riku’s attempts to shout goodbye. Or maybe she had heard, and that’s what all the wordless shrieking had been.
Either way, Kairi’s here now, and she’s watching Riku complain, beaming and visibly, glowingly flushed even in the cast-off light of the bonfire a hundred yards down the beach. Sora thinks she looks really, really beautiful, and remains distracted by the way her hair trails around her neck in the breeze until Riku belches like six-foot toad and Kairi doubles over, screeching.
“That was awful!” she shrieks, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s like a cloud of gut-stank engulfing the beach!”
Sora sits up as Riku grins, eminently proud of himself.
“What are you even drinking?” Kairi asks, coughing theatrically. She’s got a bit of hair stuck in the corner of her mouth, but doesn’t seem too bothered it.
“Arrak,” Riku says, swinging his own bottle into view. “Homemade.”
Kairi’s eyes widen in horror. “Not the stuff—“
“That Wakka’s memaw makes in the tub behind their house? Oh, yes.”
Okay, maybe it hadn’t been horror in Kairi’s eyes. She’s got a hand outstretched for the bottle in a flash, making desperate grasping motions in the air. Riku hands it over with a laugh.
“Oh my god, it’s foul,” Kairi manages as she chokes down a mouthful, coughing for reals now into the back of her hand. The bottle dangles from her grip, ready for someone to claim it from her, but the bubblegum lambanog has made its way into Sora’s lap and he’s perfectly happy taking swigs from that. It tastes like oversaturated cough syrup, and he loves it.
“I can’t believe you,” Riku says to him, sounding deeply betrayed when he’s done coughing down his own drink, but Sora just shrugs.
“I like not tasting the alcohol,” he says, smiling.
“Tasting the alcohol is fortifying,” Kairi replies immediately, an automatic response.
“Heroes of the universe shouldn’t drink pink shit,” Riku sniffs.
“Hey, does the bonfire look purple to anyone else?” says Kairi. They all twist for a look.
Shining through the silhouettes of their friends, the bonfire does indeed look purple, then silver, then purple again, with what might be green flecks careening off the top. The party’s noise level has upped, like the technicolor display is inspiring them to new heights of crunk.
Riku squints, then leans forward on one arm. “Am I crazy or does that look like the tail end of gummi ship?” he asks.
Sora suddenly remembers why he should feel guilty about the bonfire. “Whoops,” he says, before he can do anything to stop himself.
Riku and Kairi whip around, already glaring.
“I had some extra gummi blocks lying around my bedroom?” Sora tries, face scrunching into something he hopes is placating.
Riku straightens himself up to full intimidation mode. It would work better if he weren’t obviously having trouble focusing both eyes on the same spot.
“They’re burning gummi blocks?”
“It’s fine!” Sora says as something bright blue and glittery happens in the direction of the bonfire, to a chorus of happy cheers. “Me and Donald and Goofy used to burn them all the time for fun. Nobody ever got hurt very bad though maybe they got hurt sometimes a little but it’s totally fine no worries it’s fine.”
That last bit is spoken in a slurred rush that Riku doesn’t seem able to parse. Kairi snorts.
“What did you even tell them they were?” she asks, sounding far less disappointed and stern than Riku, because Kairi is definitely Sora’s favorite.
“…Fireworks from the big island? I think?” Sora tries, remembering as hard as he can. His head is mostly a field of bubblegum-scented fog at this point, which is delightful and tasty. “Tidus didn’t really ask too many questions.”
“And why were you bringing Tidus gummi blocks to burn in the first place?” Riku sighs, glancing sullenly between the bonfire and his arrack. His warring desires to go play responsible party-mom or to stay parked in the sand and keep drinking, maybe make out a little, are obvious.
“I had some extra ones lying around—“
Kairi waves his drunken circuitousness off with a flapping hand. “We heard that bit, try again.”
Sora closes his eyes, the better to concentrate his mental faculties. This backfires when he immediately loses the ability to sit upright, and begins to tip forward until his forehead is near brushing the sand. Riku pulls him back up by the back of his shirt.
He doesn’t remove his hand once Sora’s upright again, just sort of moves it up to the base of Sora’s neck and starts running his thumb along the soft skin behind his jaw. This, like the thinking too hard, is very distracting.
“He said he needed kindling,” Sora finally manages. Is Riku still mad at him? Because he looks disapproving— but also he keeps touching his tongue to his lips? Sora feels like he should be more sober for this, but also like he’s warm and giddy and floating, so maybe not.
“Yeah, I got that snap, too,” Kairi laughs, lying back. Her head knocks against the boys’ knees. “I just brought newspaper.”
She bats at Riku’s wrist until he takes a break from looking at Sora’s mouth to start petting her hair.
“I didn’t bring anything,” Riku mutters, not sounding guilty so much as deeply distracted as Kairi starts pressing her lips to the inside of his wrist.
“Well, you are kind of a dick,” Kairi says, when she gets a chance.
“Tidus is a dick.”
“True.” A soft, unhurried pause. “You’re both dicks.”
“Are we done talking now?” Sora asks, because he really urgently wants to be done talking now. The skin of his palms is tingling like he needs to touch, or to be touched, probably immediately, and that little circle Riku’s pressing just under his ear may be giving him a boner all on its lonesome.
Kairi’s smile could brighten worlds.
“C’mere,” she says, holding out a hand, and then Sora’s leaning down, her breath mixing in his, and they’re kissing upside-down, Sora curved over her, and it’s a mess. It’s a complete mess. They’re too drunk for this. Kairi keeps giggling as Sora’s chin jams her cheek. Riku gives up on his increasingly heavy petting and just calls out directions. Sora leans further over, loses his balance in an instant, and sticks out a hand to catch himself. He ends up with a palmful of boob and Kairi shrieking against his lips, then her tongue in his mouth with a vengeance, like she’s trying to establish dominance. It’s a disaster. Riku’s near tears. Kairi is definitely tongue-battling him for the makeout crown. It’s a disaster.
Sora’s so in love he wants to run around the whole island and shout it from the treetops.
“I like you guys a lot,” he says instead, when they finally break apart, and Riku and Kairi exchange glances. She’s still lying on her back, halfway in their laps. RIku’s flushed like he’s been running. They both beam.
“You giant nerd,” Riku says, and cups Sora’s face in hands. To Sora, whose brain is floating on a 50 proof sea, his whole world suddenly centers on the burning press of skin to his cheeks. And then to his lips, when Riku leans in.
Then Kairi’s lips again, not upside-down anymore, but warm and tasting of salt and shitty arrack.
Then hands, around the back of his neck, cradling his head, and weaving their fingers with his, and skirting over the fluttering muscles of his stomach as someone (Kairi?) lifts his shirt.
Then a shattering KRACK-A-KABOOM noise from the bonfire, and some screaming.
Riku's mouth, working it's way down the line of Sora's neck, disappears. Kairi's hand, tapping at his belt buckle, pulls away.
"Sora," says Kairi.
“I, uh, may have forgotten to sort out the Thundaga blocks,” says Sora.
"I'm going to fucking kill you," says Riku.
Kairi makes to back to the party first, but only because she doesn't have to keep stopping to readjust her jeans.