Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ You Already Have a Valentine ❯ Life ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Yugi and Yami drove Ryou home, and he waved goodbye to them before going into the house. “Bakura,” he called when he entered, anxious to see the spirit. No answer came. Then it hit him. The car was gone, which would mean Bakura was out. Ah, not fair! Ryou wanted to see Bakura, damn it, and now Bakura wasn't here.

Grabbing a glass of milk from the kitchen, Ryou headed upstairs to do his homework and wait for Bakura to come home. He rarely bothered to touch his work before Sunday, but if he finished it now, he could spend every minute of this weekend with Bakura. Cheerfully he set to work, confident Bakura would be back soon. Three hours later Ryou wandered into the kitchen to assemble dinner, all of his work complete. There was still no sign of Bakura.

Around 9.30 when Ryou lay on the couch watching Love Hina for the millionth time it occurred to him that Bakura would not be home any time soon. It was a Friday night, and Bakura certainly had a right to be restless. Ryou had hoped things would be different tonight, though. He'd hoped Bakura would be content to stick around the house, or maybe take Ryou out. Really, this sucked.

Still, when one door closes, another opens, right? There had to be a bright side to this. Just, what?

A light bulb went off, both literally and metaphorically. Ryou had a brilliant idea, and the power went out. He hoped the TV was okay.

Going to the kitchen, he got a flashlight, and then retrieved his wrist cuffs, a chain, and the flail. Oh, this would be awesome! In Bakura's room, Ryou shed his clothing and folded it neatly, placing them, the flashlight and the flail on the nightstand. Sprawled on the bed in the dark, Ryou fumbled to chain himself to the bed. His job was made somewhat easier by the fact that the cuffs buckled on—no keys to deal with. Once finished, only the most aggravating part remained. Lying naked, excited, and just a little cold on the bed, Ryou had to wait. It would be a long time before Bakura came home.

***

Bakura was not unfaithful. If he were, he would be dancing with and being hit on by the beautiful strangers who crowded this bar. However, he remained faithful to Ryou. He sat and got drunk first, and whatever happened afterward wouldn't count because he was to drunk to know what he was doing. He hadn't reached that state yet, however. He still sat at the bar and swished murky liquid in his glass. Bakura didn't drink very often, but had considerable tolerance for liquor nonetheless. Sitting here admiring the bitter substance before him would not get him to oblivion. He still sat there.

Truth told he felt a little guilty. Technically, he wasn't being unfaithful to Ryou. He had no reason to report his every movement to the kid!

He still felt guilty, and he still sat there, not drinking and not dancing. He'd wanted so much to go out tonight, to fade into the crowd of anonymousness, but he couldn't. A little conscience reared its ugly little head, and he couldn't. He was still fully in control of his wits, and still frustrated.

Bakura was going home.

***

The power came on with the buzz of various appliances down stairs, waking a half-asleep Ryou. The digital alarm clock sitting on the nightstand blinked its neon 12.00 am at him and begged to be reset—bothersome thing. With this particular thought, the shivers began to take hold of Ryou's body, the freezing air biting at his bare body. He wished for the blanket, but that would ruin the whole mood. He would have to grin and bear it.

And all of this served only one purpose—it reminded Ryou he was home alone, still waiting for Bakura, and damned lonely. He started to cry. Too tired to sob, whine, or swipe them out of his face, Ryou let them come down, gliding down his cheeks and spilling over his jaw. Bakura had to get home soon, right? Yeah, he did.

At least, Ryou hoped so.

***

Exhausted, Bakura drove with the windows down and the radio blaring, exposing his skin to the cold whips of wind and his ears to the grinding of heavy rock. He'd never admit it, but he had a strange fear Ryou needed him. Something was wrong, and Ryou needed him. Bakura wasn't there.

The spirit always drove dangerously fast, but a hazardous quality became apparent as he wove around the few vehicles that still explored the rural streets so late at night. He crushed the pedal to the floor as he raced his growing apprehension, feeling the surge of adrenaline that kept his awake. It took a while for the song blasting in his ears to sink in.

“Why does it feel like night today?
Something in here's not right today.
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia's all I got left”

Bakura found himself screaming the lyrics in time with the stereo. He knew this...it was on one of Ryou's CD's, probably.

“....to have a voice in the back of my head
Like a face that I hold inside
A face that awakes when I close my eyes
A face watches every time I lie
A face that laughs every time I fall”

Funny thing...a face, watching you...it was like the surge of inexplicable conscience Bakura had felt this evening. He would be better off back at the bar dancing. He could let loose and....

It didn't make him happy. Sure, it numbed him, made him forget for a little while. It's easiest to live on the surface. Never look too deep and you don't have to face the truth. Honestly though, it made Bakura sick—sick to his stomach other people could live like that, live the way he tried to.

Ryou, though—the little white-haired queer could make Bakura happy. For once in his life, he could be truly happy. Bakura grinned as he coasted into the driveway and killed the ignition. Maybe the bad feeling was his own guilt and bitterness at leaving Ryou. Heh.

“It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin...”

Bakura could see in the dark decently enough not to bother with the lights. He slunk up the stairs as silently as possible, hoping Ryou was already asleep. Once in his room, he snapped on the lights and turned to flop on the bed....

Ryou sprawled across the sheets, butt naked. Miles of pale, beautiful skin...his thin wrists held above his head in a strangely erotic position by the cuffs from the faire...and his molten eyes were blurry and pink with tears. A sordid grin contorted by hiccups split his pretty lips as he waited for his boyfriend. Bakura was home.

Bakura sat on the edge of the twin-sized and leaned in to Ryou, tracing his lips over Ryou's eyelids, taking the lips in a slow, sensuous, needy kiss. The taste of those lips clinging to his, Bakura lifted his face to whisper, “What's wrong Ryou? I'm here now, and I'm sorry. We can spend all day tomorrow together. You'd like that, yeah?” He punctuated each sweet statement with nips and wet kisses on Ryou's face, down his neck, savoring the delicious flesh.

Bakura took those lips again, coasting his hands up and down Ryou's sides. The taste of Ryou's warm mouth was tangy, bittersweet metallic—blood. Little Ryou had bit his tongue a little too hard at some point. Bakura drew back again. “Itoshi, really...what's wrong?”

Ryou looked up through large puppy dog eyes. “I—” *hic* “It was supposed to be a surprise. I wanted...well...” *hic*

“I promise I won't go away like this again, at least not without telling you, okay?” Bakura smiled, which was more sinister than reassuring, but Ryou accepted the offered kindness and smiled shyly back.

“I know what you intended, considering you are naked,” Bakura tweaked a nipple and chuckled at Ryou's surprised “eek!”, “but tonight might not be the best time for this. Ryou, you're exhausted.”

Ryou glared from behind a vicious yawn. “Aah, no'ahm not!” Ryou blinked. “Oh fine, but you'ren't moving me, an' if I want you to you fuck me `morrow mornin'...” Ryou murmured, and dozed off, snoring softly.

Bakura chuckled as he slid a one of his own T-shirts onto the kid's sleeping body, allowing his fingers to caress that tempting ass. Then he released the handcuffs and tucked Ryou beneath the covers, sliding in beside him. He snapped his fingers and the black lamp in the corner flickered out.

A steady beat of red digital numbers, on off, on off—

That alarm clock was helluva annoying...

Bakura unplugged it.

Tonight would be another long one. Bakura would still wanna fuck Ryou come morning...

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Hey evvy body!

I'm sorry, I didn't realize you guys could see the colors...I have backgrounds, and it was fun to fool around with the combination, but I couldn't see the reviews for some screwy reason (they still encouraged me! I love ya!) and yeah, I'm sorry. I've darkened all the problem colors. ^_^

Also, I'm sorry I've been so slow with everything, but hopefully it'll get better. I've already started the next chapter...

I really do love you, even if I'm not good at showing it, guys! ^_^

~Mala

PS: The song is “Papercut,” by Linkin Park, from the album Hybrid Theory.