Ugh, I'm sorry, readers! Was hoping to get this finished - it was going to have epic influences including Father Ted, Top Gear and The Straight Story, but time is my enemy. I made Yugi and Yami Yugi brothers because, well, because; also using dub names for the sake of a bad pun that didn't make it in to the story so far.
This fic is proof I should never be allowed to touch these characters. I do apologise to those who are forced to read it!
Rocky Road
"He's at it again." Yugi watched disconsolately, elbows propped on the counter of the open serving window, chin resting on balled fists, as the rival truck pulled around the corner to park up directly opposite. "That's the third time this week."
"Well, we were all done here anyway." Yami finished washing his hands in the sink, moving the few inches necessary in the confined space of the ice cream truck to join Yugi at the window.
The horn on the other side of the road blared, not the tinkling nursery rhymes of the Mutous' tradition, but a brassy rendition of an Elvis Presley classic. One by one, the doors on the street began to open, eager housewives pushing along their chubby-fingered progeny towards the new arrival.
"We're only finished because they were waiting for him," Yugi sighed. "Even number 23's out today."
Yami nodded.
The dark-haired young man appeared at the hatch, framed by gaudily-coloured advertisements. He winked at the elusive number 23 as he passed over the waffle cone. His hand grazed hers, and wrapped in a blue plastic glove though it was, she flushed before hurrying back indoors.
"Isn't there anything we can do?" Yugi looked pleadingly at his older brother. "We could move on, find some new turf…"
"Not again," said Yami decisively, laying a gentle hand on Yugi's shoulder. "This is our patch, and I don't intend to give it up simply because we're faced with a little competition."
"So what-" started Yugi, but Yami had already left the truck, crossing the street with a determined stride that made his legs seem six inches longer in his brother's eyes.
Duke was almost ready to pull off, the queue for ices having dwindled to nothing, when there came a tap at the window. Winding it down, he wasn't surprised he'd missed this one – the boy was short for his apparent age. He took the keys from the ignition. "Sorry kid, if you'll just head round to the other window, I'll be right there."
"You misunderstand." Yami smiled, crossing his arms. "I'm not here for ice cream. I have plenty of my own."
Duke looked around, confused, before spotting the pastel pink truck parked on the other side of the street, a similar spiked hairstyle to that in front of him just visible in the serving window. "Oh, you're in the business? I thought for sure you were a minor. No offence." He rested a tanned arm on the rubber seal of the open window.
"None taken," said Yami through gritted teeth. His height had always been an issue. He and Yugi had needed to work so much harder to be taken seriously when people automatically talked down to them. "We've been working this patch for a few months now."
Duke nodded, understanding. "And you want me off it."
"In so many words, yes."
Duke sighed, feigning reluctance. "No can do, I'm afraid. It's a pretty lucrative deal for me. People like me here." He looked back to Yami, the insinuation left unspoken in the form of a quirked eyebrow.
"Then perhaps you would care for a wager?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"One week. This block only. Number of customers. Whoever loses moves on."
"Not yet interested." Duke examined his impeccably clean fingernails. "Throw in the truck and you've got a deal."
"Done." Without hesitation, Yami thrust his hand up to Duke to seal the deal with a handshake. "Yami Mutou."
"Duke Devlin." It was hard not to chuckle at the look of grim determination on Yami's face, but Duke managed to settle for a disarming smile. The smile did falter slightly at Yami's too-tight grip, but he recovered quickly, watching as the small man strode back across the street. "Well, this could be fun." The furry dice hanging from the truck's rear view mirror jiggled as the engine sputtered into life.
The coolness of the Mutous' truck's interior was welcome to Yami after the summer heat outside. Yugi was waiting with a half-drunk soda, from which Yami gratefully accepted a sip, and an expectant expression. Yami relayed the wager, at which Yugi's expression dropped to horrified. "This truck is our livelihood! How can you even contemplate giving it away?"
"We won't have to," was Yami's confident response. "Trust me."
"You know what you're doing, right?" Yugi sighed. "It's just, every time something goes wrong, you try something like this." He faltered slightly before continuing. "I think… I think you should get some help. For the gambling."
"Gambling, is it?" Yami looked down at his brother, ruffling his blond bangs. "Have you ever known me to lose?"