Third Person
By an angsty trivia-game
Summary: Ryou is nothing special, and has learned to watch life--and love--from the sidelines.
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon/lime-ish, angst, (one-sided) R+M, BxM
Disclaimer: If I owned it, Bakura and Ryou would probably get a lot more airtime...
Note-ness: -_-; ::sighs:: Meh, I've been feeling really blah lately. Hence, Ryou suffers. Just a little semi-angsty ficlet in our favorite girly hikari's POV.

For those of you who read it, this is the...er...renovated "Precarious."

I'm nothing special.

I never was, and I know by now that this isn't some fairy tale where suddenly I'll be transformed into someone that turns heads. I'll never be the main character in a pretty gossamer fantasy, at least not from a first-person perspective. That's why I love to watch him live it all out for me.

I sit behind my own brown eyes and watch my hands slide down to cup a soft cheek. Malik's cherubic lips part slightly, licking and nibbling gently at the fingertips on his face. I feel my body smile, but I'm crying behind Bakura's little drama.

He's so beautiful. Both Bakura and I had seen it in Malik. But while I'd seen the tortured boy inside of him, my yami had seen the potential ally and fuck-buddy. Guess who wound up getting him.

But you know what? I don't care. I feel the smooth, sweat-slicked skin of Malik's chest press against my own--well, Bakura's own. But that's why I don't mind--I can feel this way. When I'm in control of my--our--body, I truly feel less than I can when I'm tucked away behind Bakura's facade. I'm living through him, but at least I'm living.

And without Bakura, I wouldn't taste Malik's lips right now. Without Bakura, those lithe arms wouldn't be twined around my waist. Without Bakura, I wouldn't be experiencing this. Even if, technically, I suppose I'm not.

I hear my own voice moan as Malik melts into this second-hand body's mouth. I know very well that, had I been in control, I could never kiss the way Bakura does. We share the same lips, but very different powers over them. My own would never leave the beautiful boy in my--our--arms arching and gasping like he does now. My own would never bring him to the brink of ecstasy and hold him there.

I would have blushed, had I been saying the things Bakura whispers now. All the things he'd like to do to Malik, all the things he's going to do. I could never say anything about taking him, or pinning him to the ground, or thrusting deep inside him...even now, I know my flush is probably seeping into Bakura's control.

Sure, I want to tell Malik he's gorgeous...I want to be holding his hips down right now...I want the same control Bakura has. But, lest we forget, I'm nothing special. Malik had pinned him to the wall and kissed him that day, not his wimpy omote. Not unexceptional me.

But if I try hard enough--I can pretend it's me, not Bakura, who has seduced this beautiful boy. Malik is arching into me, and crying out my name. I can pretend.

It is, after all, all I have.

I'm nothing special. Why not let someone who is take control? As long as I can pretend.

>.> Yeeeah, that was a little confusing ^^;; Sorry, everybody, for the incoherence. But...review anyway? Even to tell me it made no sense! > Oh, and a big thank you to my reviewers! I love hearing people are reading, and you guys always make my day. Much hugs ^.^
Oh, and those of you who know about it, the fluffy BxR ficlet is on hold...due to trivia's current blahness... >