A/N: This is my VERY first time writing Toolshipping and I actually don't know a whole lot about Bruno. It's not my best work, but do enjoy this little thing I managed to produce tonight.
Bruno didn't think much of what he was doing. It wasn't like he was stealing Yusei's underwear and keeping it buried under a drawer full of identical shirts (though he had passively considered it once), and it wasn't like he was taking candid pictures of Yusei. He wouldn't dare do such disrespectful things to the esteemed Satellite duelist. Yet, as he sat at his laptop every day while Yusei worked quietly on his D-wheel, he couldn't help but stare at that gorgeous sapphire-colored jacket, just sitting neatly on its hook, tempting the eye with its complimentary colors.
And best of all, it smelled of Yusei.
Bruno's first few days with the wondrous garment were spent fondling it briefly and then placing it quickly back on its hook, his circuits sparking with fear that someone, especially Yusei, would walk in on him and ask him uncomfortable questions about his behavior. But with each passing day undisturbed, the gray-eyed mechanic became bolder. The jacket was soon his plaything; he grasped its arms, dancing with it, watching it catch the wind; he held it close to himself and felt the durable fabric crumple in his gentle grip; he even dared to imagine its owner filling up the spaces. Every day he spent more and more of his time with it while Yusei was working on the most painstaking parts of the precious machine, ignorant of the blue-haired man playing with his jacket in the other room.
And still, Bruno's favorite part of the piece was its scent. Though it had been washed many times, it still seemed to carry the faint fragrances of all the places Yusei had been: the spicy smells of Martha's house, the musky scent of inner Satellite, and even the smoky haze of Neo Domino City itself. But the most intriguing smell, the one which seeped into Bruno's sensors, pooled behind his eyes, clouded his central nervous system, brought a curious heat to his face which wasn't the source of embarrassment this time, was the warm, inviting smell of Yusei himself. The Satellite duelist emitted a sort of musk, a wild scent which told of work, sweat, tears… things Bruno was unfamiliar with. Yet this inspired the blue-haired man to cling even more to the existence of this token of Yusei's recent history.
He would spend longer and longer times simply sitting on the ground, holding the garment close to his face and taking in its wonderful mix of fragrances. It was during one of these sessions that the unthinkable happened.
"Bruno… what are you doing?"
The mechanic's nervous system was thrown into shock. Completely frozen, he could only wait until the man stopped into front of him and bent down, curious as to what Bruno could possibly be doing with a well-used jacket.
The sight of those deep blue eyes which perfectly matched the hue of the clothing in his hands had the mechanical genius stupefied where he sat.
"Y-Yusei…" The cerulean garment slipped from his fingers and fell in a sad puddle on the floor.
The dark-haired duelist adjusted himself uncomfortably where he squatted. "Were you… smelling my jacket?"
Despite all his brain cells whizzing and whirring to form ideas of what to say, Bruno said nothing. His face only got more and more heated. He imagined his cheeks were healthily red at this point.
Yusei smiled and placed a hand on the mess of blue hair. The words coming from his lips passed through Bruno's head like a playful melody, and he was lost in another reverie until he finally registered what the man in front of him was saying.
"…to have the real thing instead of pretending?"
Maybe he wouldn't have to resort to pitifully holding a jacket to his chest every day.
"It's not weird…?"
"No… I'm flattered."
A pretty smile grew on Bruno's face. The blue jacket lay forgotten on the floor as he finally placed a hand in the darker one extended out to him. Perhaps this was the beginning of something; he wasn't sure. But there was one thing he did know: he didn't need the jacket anymore. The real person who filled it every day was right there… in front of him.