A/N: Italics enclosed in colons are the boys speaking via mind-link; regular italics are private thoughts.
I know I promised a couple of people a Bakura/Ryou fic in which Bakura was being tormented just as he tormented Ryou in Sweet Tyranny, but, long story short, that fic is taking on a life of its own. As in, becoming a multi-chapter story with a f--king PLOT. So I'm in the process of drafting that now, and maybe in a couple weeks I'll start posting it.
This fic isn't the greatest, but I took the time to write it, so why not post it, hey? Again, Bakura's inexplicably got his own body.
Disclaimer: No.
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Marvelous happy it was to be
Alone, and yet not solitary… --Walter de la Mare
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Ryou sighed softly into the night as the cool spring breeze ruffled his hair. Leaning his head against the chimney, he stared up at the bright blaze of stars. With any luck, Bakura hadn't heard him dragging the ladder out and clambering onto the roof, and he'd be able to get more than ten minutes' peace.
Bakura…
Thinking about him made Ryou's temples throb. Today he'd been…well, he'd been himself. Perhaps marginally more obnoxious and mocking than usual.
What am I going to do about him?
Aside from corner him and—
Stop that. He'd never—he doesn't—just…stop.
Below him, a window creaked open and a blur of white appeared over the edge of the drainpipe. Damn. Ryou turned his head to face Bakura, dread and hope fluttering in his chest. "Yes?"
Bakura stared at him, narrowed eyes barely visible in the dark. "You're on the roof."
Ryou bit back the sarcastic reply that leapt to his tongue. "Yes." He turned to the sky again.
Bakura continued to watch him, eyes narrowed to slits. Glancing at him, Ryou wondered how Bakura was managing to lean out of his window far enough that he could get his head over the drainpipe. Bakura should have had to perform a chin-up over the downspout--which wouldn't have worked anyway, as it was so loose that it would have collapsed under his weight--but his hands were nowhere to be seen. Ryou decided it wasn't worth intensifying his headache wondering about it and closed his eyes.
"Why are you on the roof?"
To get away from you—I'm sorry, 'Kura, I'm sorry, but today you've been— "I'm looking at the stars."
Bakura snorted at that and, somehow, slipped back inside the window, which scraped shut after a few moments. Ryou relaxed visibly, breathing out a long, soft sigh.
He tilted his head up to the sky, letting his mind go blank and beginning to feel peaceful and almost comfortable, gritty clothes and pounding temples notwithstanding.
I should do this more often. It's worth the hassle of dragging the ladder out—
Said ladder scraped against the downspout, shifting as weight was suddenly placed on it. Ryou tensed. He wouldn't…
He had.
Bakura's head peeped up again, this time over the top step of the ladder. He paused for a moment, then hoisted himself up onto the roof in one fluid movement. Ryou shrank against the chimney, wincing as the brick dug into his spine, as Bakura stepped over to him. Reaching Ryou's side, he folded his legs beneath himself and settled down beside him, barely inches away. Ryou remained still, hardly daring to breathe, the strange mix of dread and hope once more stirring in his chest.
Bakura dug into the pocket of his jeans, muttering to himself. After a few moments of rummaging, he pulled out something that crinkled. He tossed it into Ryou's lap.
"Here," he said, his voice gruff and awkward.
Surprised at hearing Bakura sound almost embarrassed, Ryou picked up the object and held it up to his eyes, squinting. Chocolate? He brought me chocolate?
:Yes.: Ryou jumped at hearing Bakura's voice cut into his mind. :Now eat it before I do. It's the good kind.: His mind-speech was hurried, one word blurring into the next, and the unnatural awkwardness was thick in his thoughts. But how had Bakura heard him? He hadn't tapped into their mind-link—
:You think very loudly, as I've told you before: He glanced pointedly at the still-wrapped chocolate. :You have five seconds to eat that damned thing before I take it back.:
Confused at the unusual—scratch that, unheard of gesture of kindness from Bakura, Ryou hurriedly tore the foil off the bar. The scent of the chocolate, thick and sweet, wafted up at him; it was good-quality chocolate, he could tell by the scent alone. Glancing at Bakura, who was very determinedly not looking at him, Ryou snapped the bar in two.
"Here," he said softly, nudging Bakura's arm. The thief's gaze flicked from Ryou to the chocolate and back again before he snatched it.
The two ate in silence, heads tilted up to view the night sky, the awkwardness slowly changing to something like comfortable companionship.
Sucking the last smears of melted chocolate from his fingers, Ryou shifted, stretching his legs—
--and froze when his thigh pressed against Bakura's. He tensed again, every muscle going taut, anticipating a harsh snarl and a cuff from Bakura. They weren't supposed to touch—touching wasn't allowed—
Bakura did nothing. He didn't flinch away from the contact, didn't cuff him for breaking the foremost rule, didn't snap at him. He simply stared at the sky, an expression of peace in place of his usual bitter sneer. Slowly, Ryou relaxed, watching Bakura out of the corner of his eye. A wave of exasperation rolled through his mind.
:Calm down. When have I ever hit you?:
Ryou flinched again in surprise.
:You…you always raise your fist. You threaten to…:
:But I never have.: He rose and moved back to the ladder, swinging his body around to descend. "Coming in?"
Ryou gaped at him. "Y-yes. Soon." Bakura snorted and vanished from view, leaving Ryou staring after him.
He thumped his head against the chimney. 'Kura…
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Inside, Bakura flopped down on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Well, it's a start.
Reviewz r teh kool.