Disclaimers: Sadly.. I own none of the following characters. Wish I did, but don't have enough money, ya know?
Author's Notes: I have way too much time on my hands. ; I wrote this on the 12th day after Rita... without internet, thus why I'm uploading it now. :o Uhn... I 3 Tendershipping and Bronzeshipping, so those two are in here... Also, you can bet I'm doing Puppyshipping! x3 Maybe.. Maybe Deathshipping... Not sure. :D If you don't know what any of those are.. Sucks to be you. :D I'm evil like that in giving no explanation. If you know absolutely nothing about the Shadows and their Hikari's and who's top and bottom in the relationships.. You might get confused. I know I had a hell of a time sorting it all out.. xX;
Like my other works, this is a PWP. Why?... I can't think of a fuckin' plot! D: That's why. Oh yeah, I'm that lame. Uhn... I have other things I'm working on.. Like an FFIX story and maybe Legend of Dragoon, if I ever get around to getting a decent beginning.. I'm really fond of the way I wrote this... I've been reading to many Dragon Lance books. If you know what I'm talking about, good for you! 3 Anyway, on with the fic! Read and Review... Please? HOMG. This is LONG. Just a small warning before you continue to read it. And it's... mainly a spur of the moment thing? Depending on how many reviews I get, it might be just a teaser. XP One shot, even. Either way, hope you like it. And.. If you wonder why I call him, 'the boy' or, 'him'... I have no idea:o! x3 So yeah.. This time it's for real. FIC TIME.
Tender December
Chapter One: Marshmallows and Candles
Written by: Saint Sergio
Story: Saint Sergio
December was the cold month, of course, there were three or four months of cold, but December was the best for one teenage boy. So many different holidays happened in this month. A great multitude of people gathered in one place at a time for weeks of merry making and drinks, celebrating, catching up on old times and simply enjoying each other's company. People forget their differences, put feuds behind them, forget about any problems they had with each other before; they start over with a clean slate. People, in this month, come together as one happy family, if a little dysfunctional, but happy.
The snow only added to the natural beauty of December, covering everything in a sparkling white blanket. It killed the old things, cleaned the dirty and gave everything a chance to start over. It covered hills, mountain, cars, rocks, trees, people, statues, houses. It gave the children something to do during the weeks of school letting out. Snow gave them something to look forward to doing; making snow angels, snowmen, having snowball fights and building forts. The smaller children, some teenagers too, stood outside, bundled up in their thick coats and scarves, hats and gloves, snowshoes and warm pants and socks, with their heads turned up to the blue sky and tongues out, waiting for their first taste of that newly fallen snow.
The children, practically glowing, hand twinkles in their eyes and their cheeks and noses rosy from the excitement and snow. Their parents would wait on the porch at night with mugs of warm hot chocolate and a thick, soft blanket for them to bundle up in. And inside, maybe up the stairs, there would be a nice, steamy bath waiting for someone to wrap around like a lost lover.
Yes, many people say December is the time to sit back, relax and enjoy life to its fullest. This morning, on the first weekend in this snowy paradise, huddled in a bed of heavy wool blankets and quilts, head on a mountain of satin pillows and feathered ones, white hair contrasting with the dark cases surrounding a pale, child like face, a boy was stirring from the previous nights deep slumber. His skin almost as white as the snow outside, glistening in the first gentle, morning rays of sunlight. A thin, slender, almost womanly hand, pushed back the mound of blankets, slowly and shakily. He had to suppress a strong shudder from the sudden waves of coldness he wasn't expecting. His breath caught in his throat, causing him to gasp and cough.
A soft groan was heard in the, otherwise, quiet room as he completely pushed the blankets off of his lanky frame. His cotton, long-sleeved, shirt clung to his body almost like a second skin, soaked in a cold sweat. His baggy pants twisted the wrong way, causing them to ride up in the legs, revealing hairless, smooth, lean calves as he swung his legs over the edge of his single-sized bed. His feet met with a thick, lush dark carpeting as he rose to his feet, a hand rubbing at an eye that hadn't been cracked yet.
He walked slowly, letting the blood circulate to his legs and feet, ignoring the tickling prickles as he made his way over to the desk on the back wall. He reached out and blindly felt around for the cool metal of an object he has never gone anywhere without. His fingers met with that cold metal, freezing now and he sighed, slipping it over his head. The leather straps tangled in his hair for a moment, tugging the locks free, he shivered as the cold seeped through his shirt, hitting his chest and causing him to shiver. Gods... he thought to himself, reaching for a wooden brush that was right next to the necklace he know wore. It was the Millennium Ring that his father had gotten for him before he died.
He brushed his white locks free of most of the tangles, not really caring since he'd have a hat on later today to go to school. Christmas break wasn't for two more weeks, and cram school, which he had to go to, didn't let up until the week before Christmas.
/Hikari-mine.../ came a sleep thick voice into his mind, the Ring glowing warm against his chest; the light twining into that warmth which drew a sigh from the younger. /Come to my chamber and fix my fire. It's cold.../
The small boy let a smile grace his lips as he gave a nod. /Yes. Just a moment and I'll bring you something warm to drink../ was his timid, gentle reply. As he moved to the door of his room, he slipped on a pair of black fuzzy slippers, wiggling his toes in the warmth before opening the door. In the back of his mind, like a gentle whisper he felt a feeling of pleasure from his Shadow, telling him that, indeed, he would like something warm to drink, but something else was laced with in that feeling, something that the boy couldn't put his finger on. He quickly brushed it off, not wanting to keep his Shadow waiting any longer than he already had too.
He was glad the winter months calmed his usually aggressive and easily irritable master, it gave him a chance to unwind and relax, even if it was only in the slightest; another reason that December was this boy's favorite month. It gave him a reprieve from beatings and being called useless and good-for-nothing. He could do what he wanted, as long as he kept his master warm, fed, and happy. Though he did have to wear the Ring at all times; only taking it off when he was showering or sleeping. He didn't mind this to much, it had always been apart of his life since the day he got it and the spirit within had reacted to him.
The link he shared with his master was a strange one. Since his parents died, all the boy had was the Ring that harbored his Shadow. Since he could remember, his shadow had been telling him things, whispering things in his head at night. Sometimes it was something soothing, something to help put him to sleep on those nights when he felt most alone; as in his birthday, holidays and the times people congregated in crowds. But, more often-than-not it was things about the Shadow Realm; things about death, torture, things his Shadow should be doing to him, about how his Shadow was captured within the Ring. Those things kept him awake at night, shivering and afraid about what would happen when his master decided to possess his body.
When those times happened, he often found himself in a great deal of pain. Bruised, broken and battered; he'd often have to carry himself home, through the back ally. That is, if he knew where he was. His Shadow was frequently bringing him places he didn't know, couldn't recognize. When that happened, he just stayed where he was until the was feeling alright, then he called a cab and went home that way.
He made his way down the hallway and rounded a corner, passing through the spacious, overly decorated, livingroom and into the equally spacious kitchen. The white tile glittered in the dim lighting, almost like the snow outside. The air was freezing against his skin, turning his cheeks a light pink color. He'd have to warm put the house once he'd made sure his Shadow was happy enough.
The white haired boy moved through the kitchen without much thought, pulling two black mugs from a cabinet beside the sink before moving about two steps to a different cabinet and pulling out the hot chocolate mix. /Don't forget those white sugary things.../ came a lazy command. /Then I've a matter to discuss with you.../
/I'll give you plenty of marshmallows.../ was his amused reply. He never would admit it, but his Shadow had a very big sweet tooth; probably due to the fact in ancient Egypt, the King of Thieves didn't have the luxury of it. He was always hiding, always on the run from the Watchers or to acquire a new target. But, now, every chance he got, the former Thief King at as many sweets as possible.
He put on a small, metal kettle of water and turned on the stove. /Bakura-sama? Can you speak of the matter to me while I fix your drink?/ The question was timid enough, full of curiosity that flowed freely through the special mind-link.
A wave of annoyance flowed back to him, followed by a snapped reply. /You will do as I say, Hikari-mine. Or do I have to posses you and have you wake up to pain again?/ The boy knew his Shadow wasn't joking about that, and he really didn't want any of that.
/Gomen nasai, Bakura-sama.../ he whispered, almost brokenly, through the link. That was something the boy didn't want to do; make his master angry first thing in the morning. The first, and last time, he did that, he woke up in the hospital three days after the matter had happened, with Yugi and his friends surrounding his bed, all looking worried and concerned.
The boy made himself busy, adding the hot chocolate mix to the two cups. It wasn't to long before the kettle whistled at him, giving the small boy a start. He heard snickering in the back of his mind as he poured the hot water, and pouted a bit. Every time he'd hurt himself in any way, shape, or form, he could count on his master being there, in the back of his mind, snickering at him like a bad memory. And Bakura knew he had a lot of bad memories. He sighed as he retrieve a spoon from a drawer right next to the microwave, turning around and stirring the cups. Gentle tinkling filled the room, the beautiful sound of metal hitting glass. Cold, hard, none-feeling metal against the delicate, breakable glass. A lot like us I guess... he thought to himself, a small smirk playing on his lips.
Why would someone as strong as Bakura-sama go for someone as weak as you? came his inner voices reply. That earned a dejected sigh as he put the spoon in the sink and added the marshmallows from the small rack of sweets over in the corner of the kitchen. With a shrug, the boy picked up the mugs and started back upstairs, taking a different turn this time.
The hall he picked, this time, was lined in candles, scented and colored candles, all held in golden holders or on golden dishes built into the wall. At the end of the hall, the only door, was black with white hieroglyphs lining them. It was a warning for all those who could read it. If you weren't invited in here, you'd be killed on the spot in some gruesome way. Lucky for the boy, his master always invited him in, or he knocked first. He blinked and looked to his hands then sighed a little. /Bakura-sam---/
He was cut of when the door slowly opened before him, causing him to shiver a little, the hair raising up on his arms. He hated it when his Shadow used his powers to scare him like that. But then again, he should have been expecting that. His Shadow never opened a door the right way. "I have your chocolate," he said, a faux smile on his lips that seemed to slip there naturally when he was around Bakura. "I did give you extra marshmallows. If you want more, I'll go down and get some."
His light blue eyes had to adjust to the lighting change. It wasn't much of a difference, but still a difference. There were more candles in here, smelling of mainly creamy vanilla. Those candles I gave him last year... the boy's mind provided for him. He let his blue orbs roam into the room, looking directly at the stack of feather, silk, and sheer material in the far left corner of the room. Now, when did... He shook it off, sighing a little as his eyes fell on bronze skin and golden decorations.
Along a toned, hairless chest, lay a breast plate of pure gold shaped like eagle wings. A rather large, jade stone lay dead center surrounded by rubies and what looked like sapphire. He then saw the golden armbands along Bakura's upper arms, carved hieroglyphs telling of his position as King of Thieves. Finally, his eyes landed on the face so identical, yet so different, to his. Brown eyes drooped lazily to little slits. A smirk played across those cherub lips as he shifted on his bed of pillows, the silk he was using as a blanket slipping lower on his hips, showing the boy that he was wearing nothing underneath.
He felt his cheeks glow with that one thought and looked away from that area, back to the face, or rather, the hair. The white hair sleep tousled and messy, but looked so perfect on the Shadow. "He's your dark half," he whispered softly to himself as he looked to a blue satin pillow in front of the bed. It was obviously for him, because there was a cherry wood tray sitting out inf ront of it, meant for the chocolate. Slowly, he crossed the room and knelt down on the pillow, the cups making a soft noise when he rested them on the tray.
TBC