Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Rain ❯ Rain 1/4 ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Rain (1/4)
Author: Shella
Summary: A connection between two people doesn't always happen overnight. For Bakura and Ryou, it's something that comes with uncertainty and heartache. In the end, is it worth the struggle? [shounen-ai]
Genre: Angst
Pairing/s: Bakura/Ryou, implied Yami/Yugi
Rating: PG
Warnings: male + male romance, mild language
Spoilers: None that I can think of. Do any of the yami/hikaris ever get their own bodies?
Feedback: Detail appreciated
Archive: Let me know, okay? I wouldn't mind finding more Ryou/Bakura works
Disclaimer: The anime & manga Yu-Gi-Oh do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing the characters because they inspire me. No profit is being made save enjoyment.
Recommended listening: Evanescence "Eternal" (on the `Origin' album, not `Fallen')

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Ryou wasn't surprised when he went out to the back porch to watch the rain and found Bakura there ahead of him. It wasn't the first thing they'd discovered they had in common. Never mind that it hadn't poured like this in Egypt, Bakura still knew instinctively how to react to rain - to sit in the glass-walled room and silently drink in the sights and the sounds and the smells.

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" Ryou offered, holding his own mug in both hands and letting it warm his fingers.

There was a slight motion of Bakura's head that meant no. Nodding in acknowledgment, Ryou moved across the room to sit next to his yami - not too close, but not too far. He brought his knees up to his chest, blowing gently on the steam wafting from his cup.

Outside, teardrops cascaded down the windows one after the other, a multitude of peaceful sorrows that sighed gently on the glass. Ryou was most immediately aware of the transparent marbled pattern on the panes separating them from the elements, but behind the cool shield trees drooped and let water slide over and off them in a quiet rush to the earth. There was no wind, just a steady army of drops abandoning themselves to gravity and fate.

The first sip of hot chocolate stole down Ryou's throat and he cast a sideways glance at Bakura. His yami's head was tilted back and his eyes, still narrow but not as flat as they had been, were following the path of first one raindrop, then another. He was still, both outside and in, with a sense of quiet … not contentment, exactly, but acceptance … that Ryou hadn't sensed from him for a while. There was no smile on his face, no softening of those hard lines or curve to his lips to suggest that he was happy, but Ryou recognised a rare and fragile inner peace in the Egyptian spirit.

He turned back to his hot chocolate, and together they watched the rain pour itself out.

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The next morning Bakura's nose was stuffed up. His eyes were red and his voice rasped in what was obviously a sore throat. Ryou had to force back a smile. So, his yami was human after all.

"A cold?" Bakura demanded. Apparently he'd never had one before.

"Yes, a cold," Ryou said. "You were sitting out in the porch for too long. It was chilly. This isn't Egypt - you can get sick if you're not used to the weather."

Bakura glared, although whether he was angry at Ryou or at his cold was difficult to tell. "Why aren't you sick? You were out there as long as I was."

"I'm used to the cold. I've lived in Japan for longer than you have. Besides," he added, as Bakura threatened to grumble, "I had long sleeves and pants, and a hot chocolate. You were sitting out in the coldest area of the house for two hours in a t-shirt and shorts!"

Bakura snorted. "Clothes are clothes," he said. "They don't have any effect on my health!" He then sneezed.

Ryou couldn't help himself. He grinned.

"Don't you dare mock me, Ryou!" snapped Bakura. "You'd better have a cure for this - `cold'." His glare promised wages of war if the miracle wasn't delivered.

"I'm sorry," Ryou said, trying desperately to keep a straight face. "The only cure for a cold is bed rest and warm food." The look of outraged dismay on Bakura's face was vastly amusing, so Ryou turned away and began rummaging through the kitchen cupboards to hide a grin that felt like it would overtake his ears. "Chicken soup is usually a good start," he said, holding the packet out behind him.

He felt its weight leave his grip, but it was a long moment before he could trust himself to turn around without casting doubt on Bakura's dignity and endangering his life. Bakura was staring at the packet as though it represented the complete eradication of his pride. The expression on his face said something between `not in this lifetime or any others' and `that bird must die'. Although Ryou tended to agree with the latter sentiment, the Cheery-ho brand of soups and stews having one of the more obnoxious mascots he'd encountered, the first must be confronted and overturned.

"Look, I'm making some for me anyway," he lied, and faked a sniffle. "I don't think I'm immune to colds, either."

The look Bakura gave him was stunning in its articulation. It told him that Bakura knew exactly what he was doing, was mildly amused and possibly just a bit proud of Ryou's newly-developed manipulative tendencies, and would play along for the interest of seeing the teenager as something less than an angel. Then it vanished.

"Hm." A sneer came over Bakura's face. "After all these years in Japan, you're still not proof to such a tiny weakness. Rather pathetic, wouldn't you say?"

Ryou shrugged and turned away, fighting to keep his silly smile on the inside. Lately it seemed that he was always smiling, whether externally or internally, when he was around Bakura. And as there was nothing the tomb robber liked less than to be a source of amusement, Ryou was forced to develop greater self-control than he'd been previously capable of. In turn, Bakura's own sense of humour -darker, wittier, and drier than Ryou's own - was being intermittently revealed, and although his tongue could still lash and bite, it was more often loosed to make himself (occasionally even Ryou) laugh than to cause pain or humiliation. The tomb robber would have despised the thought of turning soft or weak, but the truth was that he was becoming human.

Colds and all.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's a vitamin C," said Ryou patiently. Bakura was eyeing the small orange tablet distrustfully.

"What will it do to me?" he asked warily. //Stupid modern crackpot quack medicine//

Ryou started. He hadn't received thoughts that clear from his yami in a while. "It - it'll help your immune system recover," he said, and realised that Bakura hadn't even meant to communicate with him. It had just - happened. And it made him go warm and fuzzy on the inside to know that the two of them were finally achieving some kind of mutual acceptance in their relationship. The walls that had stood for so long between them were no longer unscaleable.

"My immune system's fine," said Bakura huffily, and slapped the vitamin onto the counter beside Ryou.

Venturing into relatively unknown territory, Ryou teased, "Are you afraid of what it'll do to you?" His heart raced at his own daring - a few short months ago he would have never dared say something so bold to the spirit. He still felt terribly audacious whenever he was defiant, but the tenseness in their relationship had begun to ease now that Bakura had his own body.

"Afraid?" Bakura's eyes narrowed. "I'd thought you would have known better than to imply that I am afraid of anything." He stepped forward, sandwiching Ryou between his body and the kitchen counter.

The teenager picked up the vitamin and held it above his head. "You're afraid."

"Ryou…" There was a warning note in Bakura's growl and he reached up to take the vitamin from the other's hand. "Give it here."

Ryou leaned back, just managing to keep the vitamin out of reach. Bakura latched onto his wrist instead. "No, you're afraid," he said, lips struggling to curl despite his efforts to keep them still. He felt a bit light-headed, both with shock at his boldness and with mild panic at Bakura's proximity. Impenetrable oaken eyes were staring into his own, devouring and drowning him, more powerful than he could bear but so compelling he couldn't look away. "Bakura…" he whispered.

He was relieved of the intensity of those dominating eyes as they closed, but his release only lasted a second before Bakura's lips were pressing against his own and everything he knew exploded.

"Ah!"

Ryou jerked away, terrified and confused. Something caught the side of his foot and he staggered, almost losing his balance. His heart was racing in his ears and he wasn't sure he was breathing. Bakura stood in front of the counter, looking away from him, his mind closed like the jaws of a steel trap. Thoughts screamed around inside Ryou's head as he stared at the still figure of his yami, and something seemed to be breaking inside his chest. He fled.

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