***AN: I wrote this in two hours as an April Fool's Day Joke. I'm basically just making fun of my own fanfic (so it's a fanfic of a ygo parody that parodies my fanfic of ygo, or something like that). The concept of Abridged Deathshipping is ridiculous, but most parings are, so be a good audience and suspend your disbelief for me.***
Bakura walked toward the fridge to look for a snack. The crashing and breaking of glass in the back bedrooms didn't bother him at first – Marik's evil schemes often involved noise, the destruction of their flat, and the need for Bakura to reduce a family-size bottle of ibuprofen into an empty, plastic container. It wasn't until he shut the refrigerator door and saw Melvin that he worried, dropping the milk and letting it bleed onto the kitchen floor at his feet.
Melvin's eyes gleamed cruel and purple when they saw him. "Hey, Florence. How 'bout a hug?"
He looked around the kitchen – a Rubik's Cube, a laser pointer, a stick to throw, if he could find anything to distract Melvin he could escape, but he saw nothing.
I have an idea.
Bakura jumped at the sound of his host's voice in their shared mind. Before he had a chance to ask or argue, he felt himself flung into his soul room as Ryou took control of his own body.
Ryou did his best to smile at the maniac looming above him. He gave Melvin a shy wave of his fingers. "Uh, hi, Mr. Melvin. Nice day, isn't it?"
Melvin stepped back; his face screwed up into a knot of confusion. "You? What? Did Florence send you because he was too afraid to die?"
"Well, no, not really." Ryou fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "It's just, um, that . . ."
Melvin rolled his eyes. "Spit it out, cream puff, you're not the only person I have to dismember today."
Ryou snatched a bottle of Patron off of the counter and gave Melvin an innocent smile. "Shots."
"Shots?"
"Shots."
Melvin narrowed his eyes. "Is this suppose to be some kinda trick?"
Ryou blinked his eyelashes. "I'm the meekest, most timid character in the series. I can barely get screen time let alone trick anyone."
"Then why shots?" Melvin scowled, expecting a trap.
Ryou stood as straight as he could, still quite small compared to Melvin and his hair. "Because . . . because I'm bloody tired of being a goody two-shoes all the time. If you're going to hack me up into so many pieces that each fangirl will have a souvenir when it's all over – then I should at least be able to do something bad before I die."
Melvin stared at Ryou as if he'd told a joke without a punch line. "You know, drinking really isn't that bad. You'll probably just spit it out – it's not a juice box."
Ryou lowered the bottle, looking crest-fallen. "Well, I guess you're right. I didn't really have a lot of time to plan, you know." He looked up with huge, Labrador-puppy eyes. "Please. I know you're busy killing people and all that, but couldn't you please kill some of those people tomorrow and have a drink with me so I can at least pretend I did something fun before I died?"
Melvin crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips into a tight line, as if he wanted to say no and grab his chainsaw, but the expression broke to one of reluctant submission. "Oh damn-it, you look like a sad puppy. Usually that just makes it more fun, but. . ." Melvin growled and turned away. "Marik really needs to hurry up and come out of the closet instead of repressing all his issues into my half of the psyche."
Ryou cocked his head to the side. "Huh?"
"Nothing." Melvin shook his head. "Just, hurry up and pour the shots before I regret this."
A smile broke over Ryou's face as he grabbed shot glasses, salt, a lime, and the tequila and trotted out onto the balcony. Melvin followed with slow, grudging steps and by the time he was outside, Ryou had also spread a sleeping bag over the ground and had another one wrapped around his shoulders. Melvin looked at him, the white of his hair glowing from the city lights, and again he turned away and cursed Marik and his disassociation disorder.
Ryou used a pocket knife to cut the lime into wedges, balancing the slices of citrus on their knees. He poured the Patron and licked his hand so the salt would stick, gesturing Melvin to do the same. Melvin had teased Ryou about not being able to drink, but the little cream puff licked the salt off of his hand, took a shot, and bit into a lime wedge with ease. He looked up and noticed Melvin watching him. "Hurry up or you'll fall behind."
Melvin snorted and drank. As soon as the liquor disappeared from Melvin's shot glass, Ryou had it refilled. After a few rounds, Ryou giggled. "Are your lips numb, yet?"
Melvin pressed his lips together, making a few popping sounds and realizing they were numb. "Yyyup."
Ryou laughed, the sound caught like fire and spread over to Melvin until they were both leaning against each other and breathless, laughing for no reason. Suddenly Ryou threw both his arms around Melvin and squeezed.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Giving you a hug. You always want one."
"Not like that." Melvin frowned.
"Oh? Not like this?" Ryou slung his legs around Melvin's lap and buried his face in Melvin's chest, hugging harder. His words slurred a little as he spoke. "How 'bout this? Better?"
"Mmmmm," Melvin agreed for a moment before shaking his head. "I mean, no. Get off me before I toss you into traffic."
"I can't . . . I'm too drunk to move."
"Then at least do something useful." Melvin changed the subject although Ryou still slumped in his lap. "It's too quiet out here. Play some music."
"I can't move. Grab the phone out of my pocket and you can play some music."
Melvin grinned and licked his lips before slipping his fingers into Ryou's pants – to get the cell phone. He flipped through Ryou's playlists, laughing. "Did you forget you have a list titled Deathshipping?"
"Oh bugger." Ryou sat straight, forgetting he was too drunk to move.
Melvin clicked 'play' and "Am I A Psycho" by Tech Nine thumped on the phone. He chuckled at the selection.
"That playlist is just a joke!" Ryou swore.
"Is it? Well then, you won't mind me checking your history." He brought up Google on Ryou's phone.
Ryou grabbed at the device, but he was drunk and Melvin was stronger, so Ryou couldn't get the phone from his huge hands.
"Let's see . . ." Melvin mocked a surprised gasp. "Why Ryou, there are naughty stories in your history. Does your mother know you read these things?"
Ryou slid off of Melvin's lap, face blood red. "You can kill me now. Please, just kill me."
Melvin shook the bottle of Patron. "In fact, this whole scenario is awfully reminiscent of a fanfic I read once."
Ryou nodded, sheepish and guilty. "'Kill Me Tomorrow'." Ryou shrugged. "Can't blame a bloke for trying. You were about to cut me into ribbons." A thought floated up through the haze in Ryou's inebriated mind. "Wait, how do you know about that fic?"
Melvin ignored Ryou's question; instead, he threw his head back and laughed. The noise made dogs howl in the distance. When he recovered he stared at Ryou and licked his lips like a mutt staring down at raw meat. "Okay. Let's do it."
Ryou still avoided Melvin's gaze, feeling stupid for even trying. "Do what?"
"Each other, stupid. Let's have sex."
"What?" Ryou's blush traveled past his face and down his throat. "Like, like right now?"
"Yeah. Why not? You know our asshole other selves are going to hook up by the end of the show. And then they'll do whatever they want to each other in our bodies. Let's beat them to it."
Ryou's eyes flicked over to Melvin's face, trying to see if he was serious or not. Melvin stared back, his tongue sticking out of his mouth a little, giving his face a hungry look.
Ryou smiled. "Why the bloody hell not?" He pushed Melvin to the ground, catching the maniac off guard. They kissed, their lips still tingling from tequila. Ryou covered them with the sleeping bag, tossing a purple belly shirt off the balcony and into the traffic below.
***AN: It's really, really hard to write abridged Ryou's character. Mostly because he's hardly ever shown. -- Updated for editing on 4-6-14 Because SuperSteffy is awesome and she always gives me corrections to make.***