I'll Bet Fate Is Laughing
by The Pop Tart Spirits
I wrote this a long time ago. I had to completely delete the author notes for this - I was such an airhead - and edit the story til its own mother wouldn't recognize it. But it's good now. So R&R, crack babies.
He was sitting in his usual seat, across the room from mine. I wondered to myself why I cared, and I found I couldn't quite answer that. The empty seat next to him called to me, but I couldn't sit there.
That seat was the reason a few stray tears found their way down his tanned face to drip from his trembling lips to his shaking hands. That seat was the reason that the tough guy was struggling to keep from bawling his eyes out.
That seat had been Seto Kaiba's.
Had been. Don't ask me why it happened; I'm not the one with the Item that tells the future; that's Isis. But she's gone, disappeared into that sweet vortex that is Ancient Egypt - the place none of us will ever see again. She might have been able to stop it.
None of us, the lesser powers, could have forseen that…
"I'm going, Bakura!" Ryou said softly. "Those two don't mind the danger, and quite frankly, I enjoy riding. If you're afraid, maybe you should-"
I cut him off with a stinging backhand, like I usually did. His mouth and cheeks were so used to it they didn't even redden. Takes the fun away. "Shut the fuck up, you little shit. Remember what happened the last time I let you go with those two for a fucking joyride? You nearly got killed."
Ryou nodded mutely, eyes downcast. For a moment, I considered backing down, but reconsidered with a smirk and pressed my lips to his almost tenderly. He sagged in my arms, chest heaving in a psuedo-gasp at the pleasure. I swallowed his tiny sounds hungrily, for some reason feeling like this was the last time I'd hold him.
How many times have I been right and not known it?
We collapsed on to the couch, him in his leather biking gear and me in my house pants, button-up shirt, and slippers. We made an odd couple to begin with, but at the thought of what we were wearing I sniggered. It seemed funny at the time.
Ryou seemed annoyed at my amusement; he jammed his leg between my own and attacked my mouth with his even more severely. I considered briefly that I should punish him for his rebellion, but then a twisted edge of pleasure coursed through me and I smirked into the kiss, my eyes tightly shut.
I had just begun to remove Ryou's tight leather muscle shirt when we heard a revving motorcycle engine and Jonouchi Katsuya's 'WOOOO'. Ryou tugged his shirt back down as he rolled off of me, and walked from the room without another word. Disappointed both at the lack of sex and my hikari's lack of judgement, I watched from the shadows beside the window as he revved his own bike, slid a helmet over his tousled white hair, and tore out of the garage. Jou and Kaiba followed, each on their respective bikes. They all looked ready for action and a adrenaline rush. I contemplated going out and getting my own bike, to follow them, but decided against it. I tried our mental link, to call him some scathing name, and found it blocked. Oh, he'd face my wrath when they got back.
If I had followed, would things have turned out differently?
I slumped around the house for the next three hours, not really watching the blaring TV and not really surfing the net. Ryou had taught me how to use all the modern technology, but at the time I wasn't really interested. I could catch snippets of his thoughts every so often, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. As the evening wore on, I didn't really notice when I stopped catching those snippets.
Glancing at the clock, I saw it was 11:00. Ryou would be getting home soon. Then maybe… just maybe, he won't be too tired and I can fuck his brains out.
Flipping through the channels, a massive fireball on a newstation caught my eye. I've always had a head for heavy pyrotechnics. However…
"A sudden, unexplainable explosion at a motorcycle race outside of Domino City tonight has left several people dead. The race was to signify the beginning of the Super Bowl of Motorsports and was heavily attended."
My eyes threatened to leap from my suddenly drained face and attach themselves to the screen. The Super Bowl… Jou… Seto… Ryou…FUCK!
A close up camera shot of some of the wreckage made real my worst fears: the twisted hulk of a Harley™ Softail Classic, a screaming eagle just visible on the still smoldering remains.
Jou's.
I tried the link. Still blocked. But still there - that meant that for however long, Ryou still lived.
Selfish bastard, a voice in my head said - the voice I usually muted, Jou's dead! All you can think about is how you didn't fuck Ryou before he left! All you can think about is yourself!
A flickering on the television caught my eye; the angle had changed. A pile of burning cars, the ones that had been set up for the trucks to crawl over, had shifted. I could just make out a white-haired figure pulling at a silver-clad arm. Close-ups revealed Ryou's sweat-and-dirt-streaked yet determined face, brown eyes narrowed and jaw set. The arm belonged to Seto Kaiba, whose bike had been trapped beneath the cars and he with it. Perhaps he had tried to take he and Ryou to freedom after Jou was killed in the blast. And now Ryou wasn't leaving without him.
Without even realizing it I had slid to my knees in front of the flashing TV set, watching Ryou try in vain to dig Kaiba out of the burning heap.
"Just leave him and go! Go, Ryou! GO!" I screamed at the set. I tried the same thing in our mental connection but in the stress of his situation, Ryou left the link blocked and didn't even hear me.
Firefighters rushed towards the boys, only just having seen them but before they got there the impossible, yet inevitable, happened.
My eyes… I wouldn't allow them to blink. I saw Ryou's surprise, fear, and… regret?
Our link opened briefly and I caught a snatch of thought.
Love you… Kura, I… sorry…
I punched a hole in the floor. RYOU!!
The pile of cars tipped, swayed… collapsed.
The camera panned wide, like fate wanted me to see, just as the burning rubble cleaved my beautiful Ryou in half.
In a flash of light and pain I felt the link close, severed.
The newscast rambled on into other things, but I didn't notice. Nor did I care.
Jou… Seto… Ryou… dead… Ryou… dead… GONE!
"NOOOOOOO!!!"
My agonized scream ripped around in the house and into the Shadows, my power amplifying my grief. My hands to my face and my face to the ground, I wept uncontrollably, sobs racking my body as the full force of what had happened hit me. I would fade, in a matter of time. Now that the ring bearer was dead, I would fade. This tangible body was magically made up from his composition, and required his composition to exist. Wildly, I began to think of all the crazy things I should do before I ceased to be. I felt panic and the old, familiar insanity well up from within me, and I spread my arms as if to embrace it. I heard someone laughing, and didn't recognize my own voice. Fate's laughing at me, the little fuck...
Then-
The phone rang. Once. Twice.
I snagged it on the third ring, but red-tinged tears splashed everywhere.
"M-moshi moshi."
"Mr... Bakura?" It was a woman. "This is Takako from the Domino Grand Central hospital."
My heart stopped. "Yes?"
"We need you to come identify a person removed from the Super Bowl of Motorsports accident. Can you be here right away?"
Without answering I 'ported to her side, still in my slippers.
"Where is he?" I demanded. "I'm Bakura, where the fuck is he?"
Ryou, I thought. Oh, Ryou! I knew it impossible, with the severance of the link, but didn't care, didn't want to care...
She pointed, visibly shaken at my method of transportation. I didn't care. I dashed into the room.
Bandages covered the lithe frame but I still recognized the young man. Tattoo of a screaming eagle. Tousled (now slightly singed) blonde hair.
Not Ryou.
I didn't allow my disappointment to show. I stepped up to the side of the bed.
A bruised yet sparkling brown eye opened. Jounochi Katsuya grinned as best he could, but then at the sight of me the grin disappeared.
"R'ou- S'to…dey… gone?" He managed to ask despite his pain.
My expression told him what my untrustworthy voice could not. His eyes closed again, and a solitary tear made it's way down his uncovered cheek. "Se…to," he murmured, shaking. I took hold of his bandanged hand.
That 'accident' happened six months ago, and had turned out to be a bomb placed by some fanatic against monster trucks. They never found the guy, but I did. His celebration of the event was being mentally broadcast for miles; I guarantee they'll never find any pieces larger than a 20 yen piece.
The pain of loss is still as fresh as Jounochi's scars, and his tears prove it. He had never cried in public before Seto's death. I still refused to, even though I had lost my other side. The fear of fading was prominent in my mind; I never before realized how much I loved terrorizing this plane of existence.
I was so lost in thought that I didn't even realize I'd been standing up and heading in Jonouchi's direction. The bell had rung, that must have been it. But why was I still walking that way? He didn't want to see me. We hadn't spoken since that day in the hospital.
Jou glanced up, and a brief though pain-ridden smile lit his features. It then dissolved into helpless tears since we were the only two in the room. Not quite knowing what to do, I sat down. I knew I was sitting his his dead lover's seat, and it was kind of disconcerting, but he needed someone. Someone who understood the exsquisite pain of losing your other half.
Jou stood suddenly, still holding my hand. I looked up at him in surprise, following the uncomfortable line of my arm, and stood as well. Then realized what I was doing, and shook off his hand. The air around us was suddenly screaming with how weird this whole situation was, and I shoved my hands in my pockets. A tendril of shadow power snaked through my hair.
Jou just stood there, taking in my discomfort.
His voice came out of nowhere, as I was staring at my shoes, and I jerked my head up in surprise. The sound of his voice echoed slightly in the empty classroom, backed quite aptly with the ring of silence.
"I… I miss him…" His voice cracked and he coughed, struggling to stay in control. "I wanted t' say that… but I don' know why… I miss both of 'em so much… they were my bes' friends, Ryou an'… an' Seto…" At the mention of his lover's name, fresh tears welled in the blonde youth's eyes.
I, not really why and cursing myself for it, reached up and wiped those tears away. Jou's eyes widened.
I didn't know how I could even be thinking of touching another person, now, just six months after Ryou died. I don't know if I would have grown to love my hikari, with all of my faults, but there was something there that could not be easily replaced. So what the fuck was this? I certainly didn't know, nor did I know how the fuck I was supposed to explain this sudden, new feeling to Jou, whose pain was obviously still fresh.
But then again, I've always sucked at telling people how I feel.
Or telling myself why.
I found myself capturing Jou's still-trembling lips in a violent kiss, the tendils of shadow power spiking out to caress us both. I grinned into his lips at the sensation; he shoved me backwards over a desk like he'd been shocked. His eyes looked murderous. My smirk faded as the full extent of what I'd done finally wormed it's way into my brain.
"Oh fuck," I muttered, "Gomen, dude, I don't know what the hell I was-!"
Jou strode over, so reminiscent of his late lover, and dragged me up off the floor by my collar. Not used to receiving the rough treatment (just dishing it out), I gave a protesting whine. He was holding me a good few inches above the ground, and the collar was constricting my air flow. I lashed out with a leg, catching him in the solar plexus. He wheezed, dropped me.
"What the fuck was that?"
His voice was a growl; I barely heard him. Of course, I said nothing. How could I justify my actions to him if I couldn't even figure them out for myself? He straightened. "I said, WHAT the FUCK was THAT?"
"I have no fucking clue, Jonouchi," I snarled.
He mumbled something, stepping closer. "What?" I demanded, bracing for an attack.
"I said, why did you stop?"
This time, there ain't no goin' back.
Our kiss was deep and left us both wide-eyed as children. Apparently we'd been too long without the pains of pleasure. The saccharine agony deep in my chest as I longed for Ryou was brilliant. Not caring, just not caring, I began to tug Jou's school shirt off.
He broke the kiss, his eyes still closed, and mumbled, "Not here…"
I grinned and, drawing him tightly to my chest, 'ported us to my place. More specifically, to the upstairs bedroom in my place.
"Bakura..." Jou began, and I felt a twinge of doubt form in his very open mind. I found I felt the same way. I'd never gotten to make love to Ryou - all of our unions were born of anger and fierce lust. I'd taught the silver angel where his claws were. Jou and Seto had been able to bond in love and cherish one another. As Jonouchi doubted, so I felt a little selfish and afraid.
I extinguished that doubt with a kiss I didn't know lay within me, a slow, sensual ravishment of the mouth. Jou's mind went from doubting to blank as I mapped every inch of that cavern, but as I trailed my fingers down his chest to pop open the button on his pants, I caught another few thoughts: he'd forgotten I existed. He thought he was kissing Seto.
I threw him down on the bed with a curse. Damn me for being soft, I howled to the Shadows. I left him laying on the bed, propped up on his elbows with a slightly and sadly confused look on his face, and I threw myself violently down the stairs.
I meant to simply take them at a run, not really go tumbling my fool head over heels. I landed at an angle that would have killed a normal human, battered, bleeding and barely conscious. My power was fading faster than I'd thought it would; at six months I was no longer as in control of this body as I would have liked. I vaguely heard Jou calling my name, and knew exactly when he saw me. He nearly killed his own fool ass coming down the stairs to kneel at my side.
Jonouchi's POV
What the hell…?
I couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't think. My lips were dominated by Bakura's, and the odd pangs of pleasure his ministrations sent shooting through my body made me lose it. For an instant, I was back in the arms of my lover.
For an instant, Seto was alive.
I could hear him saying he loved me, hear him saying I was his, hear his growls of possession and lust as he loved me. And I could hear all of this as though he was the warm body pressed against me.
Suddenly, the warmth was gone.
I didn't understand; I pushed myself up on to my elbows as best I could as Bakura stormed away. He wasn't crying, he wasn't howling. He was furious, but not with me.
I heard him storming down the stairs.
I heard him stumble, heard him fall.
Heard him hit the floor with a sickening thud.
I ran to the top of the stairs to see him in a forlorn heap at the bottom, like a crumpled doll left by some child. Blood was seeping through his hair, dying the white strands crimson.
"SHIT! Bakura!"
I, too, vaulted down the stairs and I landed in a crouch beside him. He'd lost consciousness. I gathered his doll-form into my arms and staunched the blood as best I could. He'd crushed his skull in on the side, but as I watched, it reformed and puffed outwards, the blood flow ceasing. It was then that I remembered who he was, whose he was.
I nearly dropped him. He had pushed me away, furious because he was betraying the memory of his own love lost. Not just his love, but truly his other half. Fuck. Seto and I were close, but... a meeting of minds like that... I would be dead right now. I would have killed myself. I gazed down at Bakura with new respect, wondering how he was hanging on.
He awoke then, his dazed mahogany eyes meeting my own and almost instatly clouding in regret.
"I- I don't want to hurt- to hurt you…" he gasped out, still only halfway conscious.
Bakura's POV
The dull pain in my head spread, it seemed, to all the corners of my body. I felt like I'd been buried alive, had a pyramid of monolithic stone built atop my crumpled body. I felt it reform, and heal - slowly, too slowly! Ah, but I was a faded fragment of my former glory.
I opened my eyes.
Winced at the brightness of the lights, blinked when a shadow blocked them.
Recognized Jou.
"I- I don't want to hurt- to hurt you," I breathed, then made a small sound of disgust at the quality of my voice. He managed a small grin.
"Why not? Ryou's always told me how you like to dish it out."
I scowled. "This is different."
"So what. A little pain never hurt anybody..." Then his eyes clouded. "Physical pain, I mean."
"Shut the fuck up, sssss," I tried to retort, my sentence ending abruptly in a hiss as I tried to sit up. All the pain rushed to my head and stayed there in a blinding mass of hurt. I concentrated for a moment, and it cleared. "As I was saying, shut the fuck up, stupid. Not only does physical pain seem to take you on the wildest of rides, but I'd say you've had quite enough of pain on all accounts."
"I don't care." His voice was soft and sharp. "I've lost everything. You've lost everything. You'll probably eventually fade, the way Yami did when Yugi died." I remembered the tumor, and Yami nearly killing himself trying to save his light. "When you've lost everything, what matters anymore?"
I understood. And nodded. "There is a solution, Jonouchi," I said, the pain fading as the ring healed me. I no longer cared when I noticed its delay. Yes, I will fade, but I will make the time until then damn well spent.
I then turned to fully face the boy, perhaps to ask him a question, perhaps to laugh, perhaps to try not to cry at the memories.
Perhaps.
But he captured my lips in a kiss so sweet, so sudden, so meaningful that I lost all coherant thought.
"I'll bet fate's laughing, the little fuck," I said. Jou smirked, and kissed me again, a flippantly hot little thing.
This time it was Jou who took us up to bed.
And it was Jou who turned out the lights.
Don't get me wrong, I never once forgot Ryou and the bond we shared. And looking into Jou's eyes, I saw that he would never forget Seto Kaiba, either. And until the day I faded, there wouldn't be a single time we came together when Jou and I were thinking of each other; we'd always cry the wrong names as we came. Lying tangled together in the aftermath, though, he would always whisper that it was all right.
Buildings may burn, and people may die, but real love is forever. - from The Crow
Much better. R&R.