Pairings: (Yami) Marik/Ryou, (Yami) Bakura/Ryou, kinda-sorta (Yami) Bakura/Yugi
Warnings/Disclaimers: Swearing. Eighth in a series, following SEPTENARY. YGO belongs to whoever owns it, but the plot of this story is mine. Also Marik = yami, Malik = hikari.
"Frigging son of a bitch! I did not sign up for this shit."
Bakura's breath mists in front of his face as he scales the wall of Yugi's house. His just-healed fingers—still wrapped up like a goddamn mummy, Malik was a tomb-keeper but this amount of gauze is just ridiculous—ache as he digs in between the bricks, pulling his chin over the edge of the windowsill. The stupid lock jams again, and Bakura's got half a mind to call it quits and come back in the morning when slims fingers wrap around the latch and pull it open from the inside. "You could've knocked, you know."
Bakura hauls himself to the bedroom floor, shoving his hands into his armpits. "I'm not keen on running into the pharaoh, believe it or not." Pulling the splints from his fingers he bends them, feeling the joints align. He looks up in time to see Yugi's horrified expression as he crouches next to the thief. Apparently Bakura still looks as horrid as he feels.
"What happened to you?"
"Marik happened," Bakura sneers. His eyes fix on Yugi's wrist. "Nothing I don't deserve, apparently. How's your wrist?"
The corners of Yugi's mouth turn up—it's as close to an apology as he's going to get, and he knows it. "Good. Better with those," he adds, gesturing at the prescription bottles lining his dresser. Bakura winces. Yugi fidgets, then asks, "Why did you come to me first? Why not Ryou?'
Bakura flashes him a wry smile. "I'm not scared of you."
They're quiet for a while, and slowly the atmosphere bleeds from awkward to acceptable. Comfortable. Yugi sighs. "I knew what I was doing, you know."
"Oh?" Bakura leans against the bed. "Which thing was that? We did a lot of things."
"Kaiba said that dating you would be like dating a wolverine."
The thief scowls and makes a mental note to pay Kaiba a visit. In the night. With a bat. "I fail to see the resemblance," he says, surly.
Yugi laughs. "I can." He holds his broken wrist up, examining it in the light of his bedside lamp. "Though, I figured that the whole 'he'll bite your hand off' thing would be metaphorical."
"Man up, it was only a nibble," Bakura chuckles, falling into their old banter—squishy as he was, Yugi had always had a sense of humor drier than bones. The thought sobers him, and Bakura leans his head against the comforter. Yugi, too, has sunk into himself, still staring at his cast. "So, now what?" Million dollar question with infinite answers.
The boy glances up, and considers his words. Slowly, he starts, "Ryou said that he and I are in the business of selling our souls. I think, maybe," he pauses again, looks up at Bakura in earnest, "eventually, I might be willing to sell it again."
"I see." Bakura gets to his feet and straightens. The tension has bled out of the room, and he grins. "No chance you'll ask me to stay, is there?"
Yugi shoves him, playful. "Oh, no! That's what started this mess in the first place!" He looks out the window, where snow's begun to fall. "Where are you headed now? Too much to hope for a hospital?"
"I'll be fine," Bakura tells him. "Well, actually, I'm heading home, so hold off on that." Yugi chuckles, and Bakura hoists himself through the window. "Here's to hoping Ryou isn't home?"
"I think your night's not quite over yet, Bakura."
Rolling his eyes, Bakura grins at Yugi again, scandalous. "Off to brave the kraken, then. If I don't make it, Yugi-boy, find me a wife and tell her I love her!"
Frost crunches under his shoes as he hits the ground on the balls of his feet, and above him, he can hear Yugi's surprised bark of laughter. One down, one to go.
Bakura considers going in through the balcony—it's always good to have the element of surprise over someone who's been "Domino City Dart-Throwing Champion" for six years running—but his fingers protest, so he settles for the front door.
But Ryou's nowhere to be found. Bakura check in the kitchen first, then the shower, then the bedroom. Bakura finally ducks onto the balcony, swearing at the cold. "Fucking hell. Ryou, where are you?"
"Bakura?" The thief jumps a foot, nearly out of his skin. He turns, and Ryou is standing right in front of him—had he been sleeping on the couch? Bakura shifts from foot to foot, unsure of what to say, cradling his injured hand out of reflex.
Ryou just looks at him for a long, long moment. Then, "I'm fucking exhausted. Are you fucking exhausted? Let's take a nap."
Relief makes his shoulders sag, and Bakura slumps against Ryou, who gasps. Their combined weight pushes them onto the couch, and Ryou winds his arms around his yami. Bakura laughs, voice airy. "Seriously thought you were going to finish what Marik started."
"I might still," Ryou grumbles against the crook of his neck, "tomorrow. I'm tired now." He runs his hands over Bakura's shoulder and hand. "What did he do to you?"
"Batted me around a bit." Bakura chuckles and Ryou doesn't get the joke, but isn't sure he wants to. "Couch's a bit small, no? Care to move this to the bed?"
Ryou scowls, but stands and pulls Bakura up after him. "So," he asks, "Fix everything?"
Bakura remembers his talk with Malik. "Yeah, almost everything." Ryou arches an eyebrow, but Bakura says, "Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow."
Ryou jabs a finger at the clock on the wall. "Technically, it is tomorrow."
"Ha ha, smartass." Bakura shoves him onto the bed, climbing in after him. "Only when it suits you, yeah?"
He expects a snarky answer, but a glance reveals that Ryou's already asleep. Bakura grins, pulling out his cell phone, and shoots off a text to Yugi. Ready to sell your soul yet?
His phone buzzes with an answer before he even sets it down. Bakura? What? It's five in the morning!
There's a special kind of hell for people like you.
Bakura throws his head back and laughs, voice squawking when a foot catches him in the chest and kicks him off the bed.
He looks up to find that Ryou's rolled over and is glaring at him. "That tomorrow I was telling you about, the one where I finish what Marik started? Might come sooner than you expect if you don't shut the fuck up."
Bakura, for once, has no response.