This is a wishshipping fic gift for Juney, aka shinymarshmallon on tumblr. She drew me a beautiful watercolour piece of Atem and Yugi as a gift, simply because I said I liked watercolours, ahh . And I've been meaning to write this for her, as a big thank you cos she loves wishshipping. Of course, I naturally took my time, but here it is, finally. (If anyone is interested in seeing the beautiful art I mentioned, I'll be posting a link to it on my tumblr. Just look up the tag "wrong & right". )
Some things: I grew up with the 4kids version, so I'm not really familiar with anything that 4kids left out, but I know Juney knows them as Jou and Yuugi so that's what I've used as well, including the Japanese names for anyone else mentioned here. If I've missed any important points relating to the plot, then it'll be because of my unfamiliarity with the Japanese anime, so apologies for that.
Set after Atem's departure.
Words: 3,313
Wrong & Right
A Wishshipping Fic Dedicated to Juney
The first night Yuugi calls him he's ready, waiting, beyond expecting it. It's late, way past the rest of the world's best time, with the only sounds outside being the occasional car, and maybe one or two drunken shouts of loud revelry sounding forlorn against the louder silence of the night.
He grabs the phone after one ring, he doesn't want it to wake Shizuka, but mostly he doesn't want to make Yuugi wait even longer than he already has.
It's been two weeks since Atem left, since they left Egypt, since Yuugi has talked to anyone. Anzu and Honda have said he'll probably need the space, want it, and Jou agrees, but that hasn't stopped him from dialling half of Yuugi's number every night and then hanging up, hasn't stopped him from heading off in the direction of the Kame Game Shop, only to turn back halfway, and then turn around again, and back once more. He's never worn a pair of shoes out faster.
His yo-yoing tangle of wants leave him exhausted, but not nearly as exhausted as the thought that Yuugi is retreating into this cloud which Jou can't seem to get him out of, which he feels he should leave him in, at least, for awhile, until the time is right, but it doesn't feel right to abandon his friend like this, feels wrong to not do anything, wrong to do something, and so wrong to feel so helpless. Wrong is everything in his life right now.
And now Jou can only grip the receiver so tightly that the plastic squeaks underneath his fingers, and finally let the one word that's been running through his head slip through his lips.
"Yuugi."
"Jou."
He still sounds the same, quiet and strong, and still his amazing, best friend. He doesn't sound like what Jou's been imagining – he doesn't sound like dark circles under the eyes, and sleepless nights after ignored meals. Jou's breath had hitched at the space of silence between their greetings, afraid that the dark cloud would be palpable, but now he's bereft at this Yuugi.
"I can't sleep," Yuugi says, and Jou sags against the counter, choking on the relief and the ache that pushes up against his throat. He has to wait a second before he replies.
"Me either, Yuugi."
And that's all it takes – incredibly, thankfully – and they're Yuugi and Jou once more and it's like they're back in school again, talking about everything and anything. About everything and anything except the one thing that actually matters, but Jou will take this for now. For now, his world feels a little less wrong.
Yuugi is the one usually minding the shop nowadays, Jii-chan taking a lot of breaks to spend time with his professor friend. The shop's trickle of customers has increased following yet another KaibaCorp tournament and Yuugi is usually kept occupied much of the day, sometimes too busy even for the bite of lunch that Jou brings around during his break.
It's much quieter in the evenings, after closing time, when the bell only tinkles for Honda and Anzu. Dinner is now always at Yuugi's, and a combination of plates from everyone – no one wanting, or having the skill, to cook a complete meal. Jou's is usually the most anticipated one, but only because Shizuka has taken charge of the menu at home.
Things are still a little off-normal but they are content to just sit and eat together, food being more delicious for being shared. And, at least, this way Jou can make sure that Yuugi is eating. The shared dinner is Anzu's idea – concocted after yet another worrying phone call from Jou who had been convinced that Yuugi was skipping meals.
Yuugi is the main reason, but Jou knows that they all need this. They don't have much time left to repair things before everything unravels. Anzu is already applying for dance schools abroad and Honda's thinking about business degrees. Jou needs everything to be normal again, before they start becoming stranger.
"What are you going to do, Yuugi?" Anzu asks, and Jou can feel something tighten inside him. It's a question that he has been turning over in his head, but as happens a lot lately, he's been quiet about it.
Yuugi is thoughtful, chewing his food, and a million thoughts scatter through Jou's head before he replies.
"I'll be taking over the shop." Yuugi reaches for another sushi, eyes catching Jou's across the table, and there's a quiet smile in them, a smile that unscrews the tightening in Jou's heart, a smile that he pretends is just for him.
"I'll be here."
And here is exactly where Jou needs him to be. Here is right. Right here.
He's always the last to leave. Their phone calls are replaced by long talks over the store counter, unpacking the new goods, continuing on even after Jii-chan comes in after a late night, bidding Jou a sleepy hello and good night.
They still haven't talked about him and it scrapes Jou wrongly inside. It can't be right, he thinks, this silence, this skirting, but he doesn't know what he's doing, just barely there for his friend. Sometimes, he's not sure who needs these talks more, him or Yuugi, and if he prods far enough, hard enough, he knows that he will be the one to come undone faster, crash harder. It's not the blind leading the blind, it's the blind leading the partially blind, and for someone who's always fallen short of things, this is the worst possible thing to fall short of. He is unable forgive his incompetence around Yuugi.
If there is one thing that he absolutely needs to get right, it is this.
It is during one of these nights that blur into mornings that it finally happens. He still doesn't know if he regrets cutting open that box, packed tightly full of Black Magician figurines, the meticulously drawn feline eyes slicing through them both.
Neither of them speaks.
Yuugi pauses over the box, the silence stretching on for so long that Jou's convinced that they're going to push it back once again, but suddenly Yuugi's whole body jerks, and he twists around, back curving over, and there's no sound, but his shoulders are trembling, hands moving to cover his mouth, and suddenly Jou's at his side, faster than he's ever moved, and he can hear Yuugi now, little sharp breaths, sucking in and out, the sound rasping and foreign, as if he's a dying man, and for all Jou knows that's what it feels like, he knows nothing, and it's all Jou can do to hold onto him, to hold them both to reality, even as he feels he is not the person for this.
Time has no meaning, and they stay that way for years. Yuugi hunched over, a broken question mark, Jou wrapped around him, his body covering Yuugi's, but not able to protect him at all.
"I miss him," Yuugi croaks, the words muffled against their folded limbs, and the sorrow in the words is heavy, heavy enough to pull them both down, and Jou thinks how wrong it is that this type of suffering should exist in the world. Wrong is the only thing it can be.
And then, after weeks of walking home in the early light of dawn, only to tumble into his bed for a few hours of rest before work, Yuugi tells him he should just stay over, that they can find room for him in his bedroom upstairs.
And Jou pretends that the hitch in his breath doesn't happen at the invitation, that he is not sure what the invitation means, or what he wants it to mean, or if he wants it to mean more than one thing. So he tries on his usual smile, the one that lets the world know he's Jou and that he's fine with everything, with anything.
And he's not sure why his stomach suddenly feels like it's not his, behaving as it does as he follows Yuugi up the stairs, or why he's almost too shy to step into Yuugi's room, feeling so embarrassed that he marches through with his face reddening in the most ridiculous way.
And he tells himself to stop, that this is Yuugi and he is Jou, and they will always be Yuugi and Jou, and if there is one thing that he will be content with in the world whatever else happens, it is that.
And in the end, it's normal to share the bed with Yuugi, to share Yuugi's bed with him. They talk as they always do, before the warmth and comfort of the bed, and the warmth and comfort of each other, slows down and finally stops their words altogether.
And when, after a few days, Jii-chan speaks to him, saying how glad he is that Yuugi is sleeping more, the twinkle in his eyes half grateful, and half something else that Jou doesn't want to acknowledge right now, he decides that yes, this is right, and he is grateful, too.
Except one day he wakes up, his nose nuzzling Yuugi's hair, and he realizes that's not the only part of him nuzzling Yuugi, and he can feel the walls falling around him, hoping against hope that Yuugi hasn't woken.
Because he knows. He knows it's the morning, but it's also Yuugi. His head and his heart have been revolving around his friend and now his body has caught up, too. And suddenly he is afraid, because his body won't be as easy to hide as his head and his heart. He's afraid because what if the ease and friendliness with which Yuugi invited him to his bed evaporates when he realizes that the invitation holds more than one meaning for Jou. What if he is the one thing that manages to dismantle what they've become, not Yuugi and Jou, but Yuugi, and then, Jou, the guy who couldn't keep his feelings in check and ruined the best friendship he'd ever had.
And so he slowly untangles himself from the sheets – star-patterned, and rocket-shipped, it had made him smile to see it, to see that Yuugi hadn't changed in a lot of ways, which only paralyses him with the fear of how he, with his secret wants, could change everything. Yuugi doesn't stir, sleeping his deep sleep that both Jou and Jii-chan are grateful for, and which Jou is especially grateful for now, because he's able to quietly grab his things and get out before things get worse.
And he pretends that he doesn't secretly wish that Yuugi would wake up, would realize the truth; he pretends that he doesn't dawdle a little, taking longer than it needs to grab a bag and jacket.
And he pretends that it doesn't feel wrong to have to pretend.
They're at the arcade. Gaming is something that Yuugi hasn't given up, and Jou is glad, feeling almost ridiculous for having nursed that fear. But he can't help it, Yuugi is always surprising Jou with how strong he is, how wise, reaching and breaking limits Jou can't possibly contemplate, and he is happy to tag along, hitch himself to the comet that is Yuugi Mutou.
It's a day to be grateful for, sunshine and birds, and laughter around him, but most importantly Yuugi's laughter, which has been ringing in his ears since the morning. Jou has been floating along, not even caring that Yuugi's beaten him at every single game they've chosen to play. It is the first day that he's seen a glimpse of the old Yuugi, with the strengths of the new one underneath.
Jou's not stupid, he knows that there'll be more of the darker periods, more confusion and helplessness, but this one counts, just as those do, and he will take what he can. It is Yuugi's right to laugh, and to laugh as if he's not forcing it, and a whole day in public where he hasn't had to force it definitely counts.
So when Yuugi grabs his arm, saying "Let's go see a movie" with his usual childlike excitement, Jou is unable to do anything but ignore his aching feet and agree.
They decide on the one with the cheesiest poster, Jou pleasantly anticipating the thought of them sniggering their way through it. He's so happy that he insists on paying for the tickets, bickering loudly in the foyer, until he finally wins simply by grabbing Yuugi's wallet, both of them hopping around like school children, making people stare and tsk. Finally, Yuugi gives up, huffing, though he's smiling his half-smile, and Jou reckons the stupid antics were worth it, just for that smile.
The line's not that long, and Jou pays for the tickets and the drinks, getting all the munchies he can think of.
And when the cashier asks if his boyfriend wants anything, he answers coolly that the goodies are for the both of them, what does she think, that he's gonna inhale all of that on his own, when he realizes his mistake and stops short, blood filling his cheeks.
"You're wrong," he expects to hear from Yuugi.
But thankfully, thankfully, Yuugi's not paying any attention and is reading the brochure of upcoming films and Jou's never felt his heart slam harder in his chest. He fumbles with the money, trying to put the change back in quickly, and grab the drinks and food, face becoming warmer all the while, hating the cashier the longer he fumbles.
It's then that Yuugi looks up, grabs the rest of the food, and takes hold of Jou's hand, saying teasingly, "Come on, Jii-chan", and all Jou can do is glare at the cashier with her raised eyebrows, and pretend that his blush isn't increasing in intensity.
He hasn't slept in his own bed for nearly a month now. All his night and morning things are at Yuugi's, the only time he goes home being after work to check up on Shizuka, and in the weekends for the same reason. Most of the time Shizuka comes around to the shop, anyway, and Jou realizes that he's felt more at home there than he has anywhere else. It couldn't feel more right or permanent, though he's not sure that's what this is, not sure what any of it really is. The rules of the world don't seem to apply to them, and he's fine with that. Fine to play by their own rules.
One day he walks into the shop to find grey smoke hanging around the stairs, and he bolts up them, his heart trying to clamber out of his chest in fear. He yells Yuugi's name, his brain pushing away every blood-curdling scenario, even as it comes up with two new ones.
But then he hears Yuugi's, "I'm here," amidst the coughs and the smoke, and the relief is enough to weigh down his limbs.
"I tried to cook," Yuugi says, and Jou hears the self-deprecating smile in his voice before he sees it. "I thought you might like something to eat after work."
He can't help it – he's suddenly doubled over with laughter and smoke, coughing even while giggles trip out of him, but it's ok because Yuugi's laughing, too.
They decide on take-out instead, going down to wait for the delivery, but not before letting the neighbours know that no, there isn't a fire, and yes, everything's fine.
Jou grins at Yuugi, and says "I don't think you should cook again" and Yuugi pretends to pout, but Jou can't stop smiling at the thought that Yuugi tried to cook for him, and he has to turn away to hide the smile.
"You're probably right, though," Yuugi admits, lips quirking up.
There is a smudge on his left cheek, Jou's not quite sure what it is, perhaps from the smoke, but suddenly his arm is stretching out and his fingers are brushing Yuugi's cheeks, and for awhile everything's on mute.
And then he realizes what he's done and he pulls his hand away, whip fast, just when the door bell rings, and he thinks Thank God for the delivery boy.
Sometimes they duel before bed, Yuugi's hair still wet from the shower, dripping heavy droplets onto the carpet. Jou is not above bickering, feeling petulant when he loses, which happens more often than not.
Today is no different, and they're squabbling, Jou refusing to hand over a card, using his height to his advantage, when suddenly he's tackled around the midriff, both of them tumbling onto Yuugi's bed. It's not hard, flipping Yuugi over, but then he goes still because Yuugi's looking up at him wide-eyed and flushed, t-shirt sticking to still-damp patches of his skin.
Jou flushes, and moves off him, but then it's him that's rolled over, and Yuugi's lips are on him, the card all but forgotten under the bed. And Jou can't believe it, can't believe that he has Yuugi in his arms, that Yuugi is doing to him the very thing he's been wanting to do to Yuugi for so long.
He sighs his thanks against Yuugi's lips, hands travelling everywhere, fingers frantic to memorize the make-up of Yuugi Mutou, and soon neither of them are wearing clothes, and the feel of Yuugi, and only Yuugi against him is driving Jou over the edge.
Yuugi's gentle and cautious, as if he might scare him off, and Jou can only huff with laughter and pull him closer, kiss him harder, and then Yuugi's breath is coming as loud and fast as his. They are both frenzied and desperate, days of tension and potential unfurling in a succession of seconds, breath and sweat mingling, limbs intertwining.
And when Yuugi reaches over to grab a condom and lube Jou can't believe how foolish he's been, it seems as if it's always been inevitable, and all the weeks of his contemplation and reluctance seem ridiculous now.
Yuugi's voice whispers, asking him if he's ready, and he can only pant and nod, groaning at the relief of it, unable to tell Yuugi that he's been ready for a long time, that he's been waiting for Yuugi to consume him, as he already has in every other way, and when it finally happens he realizes that he couldn't have been more wrong, that nothing could ever be more right than this.
Anzu and Honda notice something, he can tell. Is the difference really that obvious? He and Yuugi haven't talked about it, but he can feel the difference. And maybe, if he can feel it, the others can see it.
Honda's talking about his annoying boss at his new part-time job, but all the while glances are shared between him and Anzu, between him and Jou. Jou's almost vibrating with the need to say something, and the uncertainty of how to say it. But then Yuugi gets up to refill a drink, taking Jou's glass as well, dropping a kiss onto his lips, movements unfaltering, and the decision's out of Jou's hands.
Jou feels his gaze slide everywhere before they settle on his friends. He's unsure what he expects to read in their expressions, but all he can see now is that their smiles are wider, warmer, and the conversation goes on as it always has.
It's only when they leave that he turns apprehensively to Honda, who stops him saying, "It's all right with me" and Anzu hugs them both, quick and tight, murmuring in Jou's ear, "You two are so right for each other."
And now he chants it to himself, right for each other, right for each other, right for each other, the glow in his chest spreading through his limbs, and as he watches Yuugi get ready for bed, Yuugi who fixes Jou with a breath-hitching look, Jou realizes that he is just as right for Yuugi as Yuugi is for him.
I would also like to thank Juney for sharing her headcanons for this ship (a very long time ago *ahem*), some of which I've used in this story, and some of which I've taken great liberties with.
Hope you all enjoyed it.
Reviews are loved, of course.