Title: As the World Comes Down
Author: Gyaku no Sekai
Rating: T
Warnings: hinted future character death
Pairing(s): Marik x Yami no Marik main, side hinted Yuugi x Yami no Yuugi, Ryou Bakura x Yami no Bakura
Summary: Some say the world will end in fire, / Some say in ice. Bronzeshipping at the End of Days.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"
The smell of smoke hung heavy in the already-polluted air, despite the fact that he was now miles from the burning city, indicating that the fire (only one of many thousands coursing across the planet) was spreading fast. There was an almost painful lethargy in his limbs (how long was he going to live, breathing in almost pure toxins like this?), and he knew that he should move, that they both should get out of the way of the (hot hot) flames creeping towards them, still several thousand meters away but close enough to pose a threat to them.
But was there any escape? The Other had seen the fire raining down from the sky as well as he had, felt the ground shaking and volcanoes erupting and the subsensory cries of a planet in its death throes (and the Other seemed fine, always had, was so much better than he was, and who was the Original? Who had created who?). If there were any people other than the two of them still alive, they were nowhere nearby; the Other had made sure that they were safe as they could possibly be on the dying world before settling down to let them rest from their flight.
His fingers curled in the dark fabric of the Other's shirt.
Why? Why now? It was obvious that the Other could have returned at any time if the ease with which he'd slipped back into the real world was anything to go by, just like the other dark-dark; the light-dark had never lost one of The Games and therefore never had to return. So why?
He looked up; the Other was looking off into the distance, towards the flames moving towards them across the plains (and it was so ironic that they were going to die by fire when he felt so cold), and he felt the vibrations from the Other's deep baritone when he spoke. "We should get moving," he murmured softly, turning his head to gaze down at the male resting on his chest. He made no attempt to do so, however, instead lifting a hand to run it through the shorter's less wild hair, looping an arm around his waist and shifting into a more comfortable position against the rock he'd chosen to rest on.
"Why'd you come back now?"
If the Other was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. "You needed me," was the simple reply, "and I can only go where I'm needed unless I'm sent away. That's how you created me."
He supposed that was true.
Neither tried to move. He rested his head against the Other's chest, no longer trying to crane his neck up, and listened to the constant, powerful heartbeat at his ear. "I wanted it to end in ice," he stated finally, eyelids drooping in weariness.
The Other said nothing, but he was clearly listening. "I just knew it was going to end in fire," he continued, shivering slightly, and the Other shifted his deep violet cloak around them both to insulate them from the chill that was beginning to set in, the sun having disappeared hours ago behind great clouds of ash and smoke and silicates, the world lit only by the glow of the fires raging across its surface, "but I wanted ice more than anything. At least you can find still-usable tools in ice. Fire leaves nothing behind." He shifted to catch the irrationally reassuring scent of the Other; vanilla and desert sands, dark tombs and coppery blood. The scents of his birth.
Another stroke of his hair, a fresh wave of smoke; the fires were getting closer. The Other sighed quietly (Did they dare disturb the universe?) and shifted so that he could pick him up, and he looped his arms around the Other's neck, fingers curling in the soft-yet-rough fabric of his cloak as it swirled around them in the winds coming down off the mountain range that was their destination. He closed his eyes briefly, relaxing in the Other's arms and listening to the rhythmic tmp tmp tmp of his boots on the as-yet-unscarred soil, before he opened his eyes and tilted his head up. "Kiss me?"
The Other paused for a moment in his walking and dipped his head to touch their lips together, letting their tongues twine for an instant (and oh, desire was a swift, capricious little bitch who cared nothing for boundaries, making him want his Other Self like this – and there are people out there who would consider it the ultimate incest if they were still alive) before he continued moving up into the mountains to find shelter.
How long would they last?, he mused as they entered the foothills, ash sprinkling down from above like some kind of twisted rain, and the Other shook himself for a moment, trying to get it off. It was no use; they moved on, heading for the tree line. The dancing, flickering orange light from the distant flames created strange shadows in the once-magnificent forest, but neither noticed; both he and the Other were as at home in the darkness as ever.
And in the darkness they remained, watching as the world burned.
A/N: …is it wrong of me to ask for bronzeshipping fanart for this?