I've been waiting to do a stress relieve fic, since so many people do it but I usually just break the keyboard.
Disclaimed. Not the story, though. Ze textness is mine.
Light;
"Ryou," he purred, rolling the cell phone slightly over his fingers as he held it to his ear. Modern technology proved to be over half as useful as the mind link they once shared, he mused as he waited for an answer. No powers now. Just…mortal.
For some reason, it was fine. He was waiting for Ryou to pick him up. They would go eat something together, Ryou had said. The restaurant was far. Gas was expensive.
It was such a childish, juvenile thing to look forward to, but yet his heart beat faster. He felt special - in a strange, almost embarrassing sort of way - that Ryou would spend all that money. On him. He craved it. He hadn't slept in class all day.
There was a hitch, then a light shuffle - the messy handling at end of the other line caught his attention. Then there was a laugh.
Bakura frowned. He's with someone? A small pang of panic, humiliation, remembering the way he'd purred into the phone.
Another laugh rang through the receiver, and it wasn't until a few seconds later that someone finally answered.
"Hey Bakura," came Yugi's voice.
Bakura stopped in mid stride.
"Ryou's driving right now. He asked me to get the phone, so he'll call you back later, okay? Bye!" Yugi hung up, not giving Bakura a chance to talk.
Bakura stood there, dumbfounded, watching the way the grass crumbled beneath his shoes. Students swarmed around the open field, all laughing. He heard none of it. There was a short moment of nothingness until his feet finally stepped forward.
It was a long way home.
He took the longer way back.
-
He'd been fumming as he walked, steps too fast and fists shaking in the hide of his pant pocket. He arrived in record time, throwing the door open with a growl from the back of his throat. With trembling fingers, he gripped the width of the door for a moment before slamming it close.
Ryou always picks up.
Shaking, he threw down his bag, waiting to hear the resounding crash. It came and echoed through the fragile walls of the halls -
Not good enough.
Even when he's driving. A weird pull tugged at his heart, but he ignored it, focusing on his rage. Even when there's someone else there.
It was a hot day in summer. He couldn't stop sweating. Ryou usually turned on the air conditioning for him, knowing he didn't know how to operate it…
Where does Yugi go in this?
His movements were awkward, jerky, almost tearing the fabric as he pulled them off himself angrily. Changing into more comfortable cloths was a routine, but it wasn't right. Ryou should be there. Downstairs, at least, waiting for him with that stupid, stupid - smile on his face. Before returning to school from summer break, they'd spent the most time together, but now that they were back at Domino -
Where do I go in all this?
Of course, Bakura admitted to himself - Ryou would prefer Yugi over him. A friend or a psycho? It wasn't that hard to choose.
There was a fumble at the door. Despite himself, Bakura ran down the stairway, disgracefully tripping over his feet when he got the bottom. Once he was stable, he - hid immediately in the shadows. Yugi... He clenched his fists, short nails digging painfully into the flesh of his palms.
Over the fucking half of your soul.
When the door opened fully, Ryou's presence lacked the usual greeting – only a laugh. Two laughs. Directed to each other. Bakura didn't greet him either, shifting purposely from his position at the corner of the wall, giving Ryou every chance to notice him.
Yugi laughed on, hand in Ryou's as they continued up the stairway.
He'd taken none.
-
It was nine-thirty.
Bakura hadn't done any homework – not that he ever did. He'd just copy off someone else the next morning and come back with the right marks. Ryou would smile at him...
He stared up at the ceiling. It was a blank, boring white. He'd been looking at it for hours.
Waiting.
Yugi still hadn't left.
After a few more minutes of nothingness, he'd had enough. He trudged into Ryou's room – the one that they never used anymore. It wasn't old, or dusty, but Ryou never went there because he'd always watched the moon with Bakura until one of them fell asleep from exhaustion.
There were giggles.
Right away, he could tell they were Ryou's; melodic and simply beautiful. Pure.
"I love you," came his voice, still giggling. Bakura reeled back; it sounded so right for him to say.
Bakura knew they were playing. They had to be. He knows it. At least, he thinks he knows it…
Quietly, he opened the door, watching through the stream of light his own Light and the pharaoh's sitting on the floor, colourful cards scattered in the middle of a game board. Yugi saw him, then Ryou, who waved and looked surprised while Yugi invited him to sit down. Their giggling hasn't stopped, he noticed - no, that would have been too obvious. Instead, the laughter mellowed out and faded away into a nervous ending. Bakura stayed at the doorway, feeling inferiority creeping into the back of his subconsiousness.
He didn't belong there.
"...Yugi," he started, voice unsure, if not a bit shy. What the hell are you still doing here? Don't you have your own Other to run back to?!
Confidence waning, he continued. Meant to. Nothing came out.
He stayed at the doorway.
"Are you thirsty, Bakura?" Ryou inquired softly, making to get up. Casually - too soft, too familiar. Had he not just ignored him the whole morning? Bakura gripped unintentionally at the hemline of his shirt, an odd familiarity settling in his chest; Ryou was treating him like a guest. Bakura felt cold.
"I could help if you want!" Yugi chirped, energetic as always, getting up also. His and Ryou's actions were not simultaneous; Yugi's jumpy, Ryou's graceful – but somehow, they felt whole. The smiles on their faces glowed with different brilliances, but everything they did was so horribly right together -
Suddenly, he understood. He'd almost stumbled out the doorway, blatantly avoiding their direction as he spoke. Strands fell over his face and hid his expression from view. "Don't stand up," he ordered – powerlessly – "you…didn't have to. I'm not thirsty." He turned and fled, hoping his voice did not quiver as much as his lips did, heart thumping painfully in his chest.
What are you, Yugi's eyes had read, and Ryou's had completed the sentence; still doing here?
He'd almost felt guilty for interrupting their perfect moment.
Light
Being rewritten because I'm never up to rereading my pieces of crap - I procrastinate to the point of not doing things at all, such as reading over for mistakes. But! Now I shall! And...yeah. I'm actually going to edit my things! I might even develop rough copies!