Last filler in poor attempts to get out of writer's block, I promise, kind of. Needed to get this out before it rotted in my various hidden folders.

"M—Mister, there's—"

"Stop mumbling to yourself, you retard," the bully managed to sneer before the car behind him crashed happily onto the opposite wall, the bully sandwiched between the two.

Ryou ran home screaming.

-

Ryou awoke stiffly. It was that time of the year again, the anniversary—the day he witnessed the horrible accident (which had put several students' lives back into contentment, but that was something else entirely) of the bully and the car crash. Granted, he hadn't been too sad about that—but what if it had been someone else? Someone more important? Someone whose facial features did not look better when ruined?

…I have to go get drunk, Ryou decided seriously. This was the first time he'd spent the anniversary with someone else, someone important. Someone he couldn't afford to slip out his thoughts to—

"Morning," Bakura yawned. Ryou stilled, trying his hardest not to look through the slightly open door, but he didn't need to—Bakura stepped in front of him with his huge white t-shirt as the only thing he wore, the cloth looking slightly transparent.

"Good morning, Bakura," Ryou replied politely as accustomed—"I want to do obscene things to your body."

There was a slight pause.

"…Let me go back through that door," Bakura said slowly. Ryou buried his face in his arms, clutching at his hair in embarrassment and frustration. Fuck fuck fuck, he thought in humiliation. He was able to hold down the language when Bakura came back out again—if only because he had something better to say.

"I still want to do obscene things to your body," he declared loudly, then clutched his head and groaned. Bakura didn't say a word. When Ryou lifted his head, hoping to see acceptance, he realized he was looking at Bakura's horrified expression.

"…Please don't judge me," he attempted.

The rest of the morning was spent nicely. Partly because it was only two minutes until the afternoon, and partly because Bakura had ran away too soon for him to say anything else.

Then it was afternoon.

For once, Ryou was glad he didn't have any friends. He wouldn't be dragged out into the public, where all his inner thoughts and feelings would be broadcasted to the world, where—

The phone rang.

It was a natural, routinely reaction. When the phone rang, Ryou picked it up. When it didn't, he passed it without a glance, only stopping to sniffle a little when he'd tripped over the cord sometimes. It wasn't his fault. It was a force of nature that had forced him to pick it up, a horrid, evil force that bellowed to him Yugi's sweet, persuasive voice.

"Hey, Ryou," Yugi greeted persuasively. Ryou instantly knew something was going to happen.

"…Hi," Ryou managed, reluctantly. He could hang it up and blame it on the embodied voice living out of his head, he could blame it on—

"—Bakura?"

Ryou blinked. "Pardon?"

"Where's Bakura?" Yugi repeated. "Is he coming too?"

Coming? Ryou thought. It was then that he decided he really should've put down the phone. "Oh, yeah, coming," he breathed, sighing—"Bakura would look so good doing that…"

"…" said Yugi.

"That wasn't me," Ryou blurted quickly. Relief flooded into him when Yugi laughed heartedly, his voice flowing through the phone with trust.

"Is he controlling you to say things again?" Yugi was asking with a laugh. "You should get revenge or something."

Before possible revenge scenes could come to mind, Ryou rapidly forced other thoughts into his head. Something everyday, something normal, something he always thought about—"Yeah, but he's sexy, so I guess I can let him go."

Yugi wasn't laughing so genuinely this time.

"…Shit," Ryou acknowledged. Yugi is surprisingly insightful, and his laugh became just slightly more nervous.

"So…I take that it's only you?" Yugi asked after he'd finished.

"Sorry," Ryou gulped, "I didn't get that. It's only me for…?"

"For the arcade, of course." Yugi was sounding more and more worried, in the way that one worries about another's state of mental health. Ryou emitted a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, of course," he blabbered, twirling the phone cord around his fingers, "of course…your alter ego looks good in leather."

The cord snapped.

Partially, at least. Ryou yelped and let go before he could be electrocuted, eyeing fearfully at the way sparkles happily burned at the wood of the small table the phone was on top of.

Damn, he sighed, I need to get a wireless phone…

"Ryou?" Bakura peaked his head through the doorway, cautiously slipping inside the house. Ryou turned, startled.

…and if it's wireless then I can bring it everywhere, like to my bedroom, and—

"I want to have phone sex with you," Ryou declared. There was a long, painful moment of silence. "…I'm on drugs."

Bakura left the house and shut the door.

Irrelevantly to this fic, please wish Cliscia good health. If you want a reason, go click that second link in my profile. Do the situation some good.