A Deathshipping one-shot which Ana woke up a few days ago thinking about, and decided to write instead of updating RTS.
"So… What are we not going to do once we walk inside the store?"
The question was met with a dramatic rolling of pupil-less violet eyes.
"No stabbing, no cutting, no strangling, no breaking of limbs, no chainsaws," Here even more sarcasm was present in the man's words, as if there had been a lot of previous experience with this particular point, which of course, there had. "No assault of any kind, no trips to the Shadow Realm, no destruction of property." He finished the list and looked at his partner expectantly.
"Good!" Ryou clapped his hands delightedly. "This should be fun, come on, let's go!" He grabbed Mariku's arm and dragged the tall spiky-haired blond in after him. The sign on the outside of the building read KROGER (1), in all capital block letters.
XXX
Once inside, the whitette grabbed a small basket for items, and hooked it in the crook of his arm. Mariku snorted in laughter when he saw it.
"You look like you're carrying a purse, love." Ryou flushed and quickly put it back, opting instead for a large cart, looking at Mariku as if daring him to say anything about it. His companion wisely stayed silent. The two walked slowly to the produce section of the grocery store.
"So… What do you want for dinner tonight?" Ryou asked, examining some red apples on display. When getting no response, he looked around in alarm, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Mariku standing over by another display. He walked over to his lover.
"What on earth are you-" He stopped when he saw what the other male was looking at. Bananas. Mariku eyed the fruit for a minute before shifting his gaze to Ryou, then back to the fruit, then back to Ryou, raising an eyebrow encouragingly. Ryou felt heat rising to his cheeks, and he tugged Mariku away from the bananas, (or any other suggestive produce he might come across).
"My gods! Someone would think I kept you chained up at home in a closet, starved and sex-depraved…" At this, a few fellow shoppers gave them strange looks as they passed by.
"If only…" Mariku muttered, thinking of the kinkiness that the first part implied. Ryou scowled at him, making Mariku chuckle at the attempt of menace. The whitette was about as threatening as a kitten.
XXX
The pair moved on, Ryou still pushing the cart, which he had so far managed to put nothing in. They passed right by the deli, Mariku being a vegetarian.
Ryou had learned not to question the psychopath's incapacity to eat meat. Once, on a whim, he had asked Mariku about it, curious since his own yami had been perfectly fine with devouring bloody steak. The blond had taken it as a personal challenge to his manliness, and consumed a half-pound of raw hamburger meat that had been in the freezer before Ryou could stop him. The male insisted he was fine, but quickly ran to the bathroom and threw up the entire mess into the toilet. Ryou, afraid that he might have gotten salmonella poisoning, made him lie down for the rest of the day, and acted as his personal nurse, much to Mariku's delight.
XXX
They stopped at the bakery. Ryou picked up some bread, and Mariku wandered over to look at something else.
"Okay, I got 100% whole white bread, with added fiber, and-" Ryou trailed off. Mariku turned to look at him, quickly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.
"Mariku! You ate a doughnut!" The blond frowned.
"What gave it away?"
"You have 'GUILTY' written all over your face! …Also there's chocolate around your mouth." Mariku stuck out his abnormally long tongue and proceeded to clean off the icing. When he caught Ryou staring, he gave a wolfish grin.
"You want a lick, baby?" Ryou coughed self-consciously, and looked away, sighing in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment.
"Ah… Now we'll have to pay for it, Mariku!" He started towards the baker's counter, but Mariku grabbed his arm.
"No one saw me. Come on." Ryou followed him reluctantly.
XXX
"Hey!" A shrill voice squeaked in protest. Ryou turned to see a small boy hopping up and down frantically. Not again… A peal of maniacal laughter confirmed his suspicions.
Mariku stood over the child, holding a toy gun teasingly in one hand overhead. The kid continued to try and grab it from him, until Mariku, growing bored, pushed him to the ground. The boy looked stunned for a moment before starting to bawl, and running off somewhere. Seconds later the boy came back, accompanied by a livid older woman that had to be his mother.
"Did you push my son on the ground?" Mariku glanced at her, preoccupied with playing with his new toy.
"Yes." The woman huffed indignantly at this nonchalant response.
"I could have you thrown out of this store!" she cried angrily. Mariku finally gave her his full attention. Getting in her face, he grinned psychotically, and the veins in his face popped out readily.
"Is that so…?" he said pleasantly, a slight sing-song edge coming into his words. The woman, looking positively terrified, quickly hurried her son away, casting horrified looks back at him. Mariku, still grinning, walked casually back to Ryou, who all this time had stood there in astonishment, gaping at the scene in front of him.
"What is that?" Ryou croaked at last, pointing at the toy in Mariku's hands.
"This?" Mariku gazed proudly down at his prize. "This is a Nerf Gun." (2)
"Yes, yes, but… why…?"
Mariku started making "PEW-PEW" noises (3) and aiming the gun at random customers.
"Can we buy it?" he asked, ignoring the question, and giving Ryou his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes, which admittedly, wasn't very good. Ryou couldn't do threatening, he couldn't do innocent.
"…No."
XXX
They progressed slowly through the store, in every section Mariku causing some kind of disturbance, either violent or embarrassing, until it got to the point where Ryou was pulling out his long white hair in frustration. The blond noticed this, and thought that he should probably discontinue his antics. But… the furniture section was coming up… He didn't give it another thought. Ryou wasn't that mad, after all.
"Look at these!" Ryou gushed, patting a leather armchair with one hand. "They're so classy! Do you think we need a new loveseat for the living r-" He squeaked in surprise as Mariku suddenly pulled him down with him onto a large bed.
"Well, I think we need a new bed. What do you think, snowbird? Is this one… comfy enough for you?" he purred into Ryou's ear. Ryou shuddered in his arms, and Mariku licked his cheek enticingly.
"Uh, sir? You're not allowed to lay on these. They're for display only." a pimply teenage employee said, looking bored as he pointed to the sign next to the bed: DISPLAY ONLY.
"Who asked you, dumbass?" Mariku hissed threateningly, holding the object of his affection even tighter and glaring daggers at the youth.
"Sir, I'm just doing my job. Please, get off the bed. Your girlfriend too." Ryou, blushing furiously, pried Mariku's unwilling arms off of him and clambered off the bed. Mariku snarled angrily and pulled the Millennium Rod out of his pants. Uncapping it, he pressed the blade end against the employee's neck.
"What were you saying about my girlfriend? Think carefully before I slit your jugular," he whispered dangerously at the unintentional cock-blocker. The teenager, petrified, looked at Ryou again, and his eyes widened in realization.
"Ah, I'm sorry, man! Boyfriend, boyfriend!" he exclaimed, holding his hands up as he grasped his error. Mariku snorted in disgust before lowering the Rod. The boy ran to the nearest trash can, and stood there, hyperventilating over it. Mariku turned to look at Ryou, satisfaction smug on his lips. To his surprise, Ryou burst into tears.
"R-Ryou? What's wrong?" he asked, moving to comfort the boy. Ryou backed away from his touch, still crying.
"N-n-no! Y-you! I… I j-just w-wanted to go sh-shopping together, like a normal couple! Bu-but you…" Ryou took a deep breath before shouting the next words. "I can't take you ANYWHERE!" With that, he stormed off, leaving the cart, tears still running down his face.
XXX
Mariku stood there, stunned. Ryou never yelled at him. Never. His angel was actually… upset. Angry, even. Running a hand through his mass of chaotic blond spikes, he sighed audibly. He supposed he had to go and apologize now. He grimaced at the very thought. Mariku hated apologies. Hated them. But for Ryou… he reckoned he could make an exception.
He found Ryou at a food stand in the store that was currently selling pastries of all shapes and sizes. Steeling himself, Mariku walked up beside him.
"Ryou, I…" Then he saw what Ryou was looking at. Creampuffs. The stand was selling boxes upon boxes of them. Ryou gazed at them, a longing expression on his face.
"I haven't had profiteroles in ages…" the whitette whispered.
Mariku felt a guilty pang in his chest. This entire time, he really hadn't been considering how Ryou felt, his needs, or… his wants. He pulled some money out of the pocket of his jeans.
"One box of creampuffs." Ryou turned to look at Mariku, mouth open in almost comical astonishment. The man handed the pastries to Mariku, who in turn shoved them into Ryou's hands.
"… for you," he muttered self-consciously, looking at the floor and shuffling his boots, only to stagger sideways when Ryou glomped him.
"I love you," Ryou breathed fervently in his ear. (4) Mariku felt heat rush to his cheeks. Was this blushing? How could Ryou stand doing it all the time? It was so bloody awkward! As Ryou clung to him adoringly, he silently vowed never to do it again.
Ryou blushed, he didn't. He killed people, Ryou didn't. Ryou was innocent, he, well… wasn't. They were complete opposites. They complemented each other. Their different traits drew them together and let each see the other for who they really were. That was why they made such a good couple. That was why they loved each other.
"By the way, Mariku," Ryou said, finally letting go of him to grab a creampuff and shove it happily into his mouth, having fully forgiven Mariku for anything that had happened beforehand. "Where did you get the money for these?" he mumbled through a mouthful of pastry.
"Shh… don't ruin the moment." (5)
(1)- Kroger is the name of the grocery store where I live...*shifty eyes*in the Midwest of the United States. Yea... too lazy to think of a fake name.
(2)- He's always wanted one.
(3)- You can picture it. Come on, don't lie.
(4)- Yes. All this for a box of creampuffs.
(5)- Use your imagination.
^^ Eh-heh. Well, Deathshipping is my second favorite pairing. Thought I'd take a shot at writing it. Since I've got a ton of summer assignments to do, I'll be updating RTS less often. Like once a week if I'm lucky. Once every two weeks is more accurate... I REALLY felt like writing this, though. :P
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