Bakura sighed to himself as he slumped down on the couch in front of the television. The entire apartment was dark, with the only light streaming from the television screen as the pale-skinned man flipped through channels idly. It was New Year's Eve, and every station seemed to be celebrating the blasted holiday, whether through marathons of mindless programmes or showing various celebrations of the new year across the world. Almost everything Bakura saw of the holiday disgusted him: costly displays of fireworks that disrupted the night's usual calm, while people glutted themselves on unhealthy food, gossipped with their so-called friends, and wound up lying in the gutter, intoxicated from overconsumption of wines and liquors. It was a stupid, pointless holiday, the man had decided, a wasteful, potentially harmful way to end the year.
That was what he'd told Ryou earlier, when the other had invited him to the party he was going to. Attending such an indulgent affair went against Bakura's morals, such as they were. No, he was more than happy to sit alone at home and entertain himself. At least it was nearly midnight, according to the watch Ryou'd gotten him for Christmas; just a few more minutes, and then this foolishness would end. Finding a cage fighting match on one on of the only channels that wasn't engaged in the end of year hullabaloo, the man settled back into the sofa cushions, letting the noise and violence of the televised brawl sooth him into a comfortable doze.
He found himself jolted awake some time later by the sound of keys and off-key singing just outside the apartment's front door. Bakura glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist; the display read 12:43 am, which meant that the person singing so horribly outside was most likely Ryou. Although, Bakura reminded himself, Ryou was usually a fairly decent singer. He'd heard him singing in the showers most mornings, and the younger man tended to be much more accurate than this.
The front door swung open, revealing his roommate, cheeks flushed pink from what Bakura hoped was cold, still singing a pitchless rendition of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas". A hiccup interrupted the thin man partway through the word "pudding", and he burst into giggles, stumbling inside the flat as he slammed the door behind him far harder than was necessary. Bakura winced at the sound the door made, while Ryou continued to giggle as he slumped against the wall near the entry's closet.
"Happy-" he giggled, interrupting himself before composing himself enough to continue. "Happy New Year, Bakooooora." He drew out the middle syllable of the man's name, mispronouncing it in the process. When he frowned in response, Ryou began giggling again, swaying from side to side slightly as he made his way from the wall to the couch where Bakura sat warily. The soft-featured boy practically crashed into a sitting position on the couch next to him before leaning in close. "It's a whole new year," he said in a sing-song voice, grinning like a dope as he pressed in closer. Bakura caught a noseful of his breath, which reeked of alcohol.
"You're drunk," Bakura said flatly, pulling his head away from his companion. The younger man pouted.
"Don't you know that you're s'posed to gimme a kiss for the new year?" He whined, voice suddenly going up an octave. Ryou leaned forward more; when Bakura averted his head again, he pulled back, giggling.
Bakura frowned at his roommate. Frankly, he wasn't in the mood for giving Ryou a "kiss for the new year", or any sort of kiss, especially in his inebriated state. It was bad enough that he'd had to find out at Christmastime that it was traditional to kiss if you ran into someone standing beneath the mistletoe, to the point where, Ryou had said, disregarding it resulted in being tied to the outside staircase for an entire night. At least that was an easy enough tradition to avoid, if one was careful; he'd managed to get through the season with only one mistletoe-forced kiss. "Go to bed," he muttered, turning his attention to the fight that had just started on the television. Perhaps, if he ignored him, Ryou would take the hint and get his drunken ass in bed. The brat deserved the hangover he'd inevitably get in the morning.
He felt a weight lift from next to him, and heard the unsteady footsteps of his roommate as he made his way down the hall. Bakura smirked, settling back into the cushions. He hadn't expected Ryou to give in and leave so easily, but he'd been giving the boy some credit in his drunken state. Ryou was, had been, and always would be, a complete pushover; no amount of alcohol would fix that. Now he was free to finish watching this fight before going to his own bed, giving his host plenty of time to fall asleep and leave him in peace.
The sound of bare feet against linoleum caught the wild-haired man's attention just a few minutes later. Biting back a growl, he forced himself to focus on the brawl playing out on the screen. Ryou was probably just using the bathroom, or had wandered into the wrong bedroom by accident. The idiot would be asleep in a few minutes, and Bakura'd be free to enjoy the remainder of his night in drunk-free peace.
A shadow fell across the television set, and Bakura found his view blocked by his intoxicated roommate, who had stripped himself down to his boxers. Before he could voice his indignation at having his programme interrupted by a nearly nude drunk man, Ryou pulled out a sprig of some sort of plant out from behind his back, grinning as he held it over his head.
"Gotta obey the miiiiistletoe, Bakura," he said in a voice that was almost a purr, a sly smirk crossing his face. "Unless you wanna sleep outside tonight?"
Bakura cursed his luck silently. How long had Ryou held on to the damned plant for? "Ryou, get your ass in bed," he growled, not moving from his spot on the couch. "Before I put it there."
The boxer-clad man giggled drunkenly. "Aww, c'mon, 'Kura," he said, still holding the mistletoe over his head. "Just one little kiss under the mistletoe?" He wiggled the sprig of green leaves and white berries, as if to invite Bakura over.
The wild-haired man sighed, pushing himself off the couch. So his roommate was more belligerent when drunk than he'd counted on; he'd just give Ryou a quick peck on the cheek before shoving his ass in bed and shutting the door on the little drunkard. In the morning, the idiot wouldn't remember a thing, and he and Bakura could continue on as roommates and, in the loosest of terms, friends. It was a foolproof plan.
"All right, Ryou. One kiss, that's it." He crossed the short distance between the couch and television set, putting himself right in front of the slightly smaller man. He glared his almost-doppelganger, as if daring him to initiate the kiss. When Ryou didn't, and instead shook the mistletoe overhead for the second time, Bakura bit back a snarl. The boy was damned lucky that he was drunk right now; otherwise, Bakura would have taken his chances outside in the freezing cold. Grabbing Ryou's chin with his right hand and tilting it upward, Bakura bent down slightly, aiming for Ryou's left cheek with his mouth.
He didn't expect Ryou to twist his head at the last second, crushing their lips together. Lean arms wrapped around Bakura's neck, burying themselves in his thick, white mane of hair and forcing the kiss to last longer than the half second Bakura would have preferred. He felt Ryou's lips open, and a tongued pushed against Bakura's lips, trying to gain entrance that the elder refused to allow. This was the last thing he'd wanted, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let it go any further than this.
A booming sound from outside, dulled by distance and the apartment's walls, combined with an all-too-familiar chiming sound from the clock Ryou kept on a shelf in his room. Twelve peals, with the colourful bursts of fireworks that interrupted the darkness of the apartment, signalling the start of a new day and a new year.
Ryou released Bakura's head, pulling away with a knowing smirk on his face. "Happy new year, Bakura," he purred, eyes narrowed in satisfaction. They stood there for a moment, the red and purple glare of the aerial display outside splashing against their bodies before Ryou turned away and began walking back to his room, his steps completely surefooted now as Bakura watched, almost dumbfounded. Halfway down the hall, Ryou paused and turned to look at the frozen man. He raised one eyebrow, as if questioning the other's intelligence, before continuing down the hall and into his bedroom. After another second, Bakura practically collapsed on the floor. He wasn't used to being manipulated like that.
"So the little brat has some spine after all," he muttered to himself, before laughing. Perhaps this would be a decent year after all.
Though, next time, he wouldn't trust Ryou with his wristwatch.