Happy Thanksgiving!!

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter. I really appreciate it!! Here's chapter 2!

'Tis the Season

By, Dorobo

Chapter Two: Home for the Holidays

Ryou frowned thoughtfully, moving at a snail's pace down the narrow aisle of the mall's largest department store. A sigh escaped his lips as he stopped in front of a tall, stylishly dressed male mannequin. The outfit was tasteful, yet at the same time possessed a wild flare; he could easily picture Bakura wearing it. But as he flipped the tag over he guiltily discovered that his limited budget could never afford it. He wanted so badly to have enough money to buy his boyfriend something nice and expensive – to not have to shy away from a gift that perfectly suited Bakura due to the lack of a bulge in his wallet.

Every year before Ryou left for England to visit his family, Bakura always surprised him with something extravagant for the holidays (despite his inane dislike for the season) and Ryou could only come up with something mediocre in exchange to present to him.

But it wasn't his fault. He wanted to give his boyfriend so many things, but he was still in high school and so could only afford to have a part-time job. Working three days a week at a book store didn't earn him a paycheck that could even compare to the amount of wealth backing Bakura up. Bakura's foster parents – though never talked about much – were rumored to be loaded thanks to inheritance.

Bakura had more than enough money to take care of them both, and despite the fact that it wasn't necessary and that Bakura had told him countless times he shouldn't, Ryou insisted on placing a share of his money towards the bills each month – thus leaving even less money for him to spend leisurely. Only on major holidays did he regret this decision.

This is hopeless. Everything I think he'd like is so expensive... At this rate, I won't be able to give him anything on Christmas morning.

Feeling more depressed now than when he had first entered the mall, Ryou exited the department store, bracing himself as he entered the shopping center's overcrowded atrium. The bright lights and cheerful music did nothing to lift his spirits as he passed the lovely displays set out in the windows of each store.

A part of him wanted to give up. But there was only one more week until Christmas. If he didn't get something then, there wouldn't be another chance. Practically everything affordable and worth buying was already sold out by this point.

The white-haired teenager paused in front of an antiques shop, glancing over the display case. Something in the window caught his gaze, causing a smile to form on his face. The item was beautiful, its smooth metallic surface shining underneath the bright display lights, beckoning the pale boy closer. Ryou pressed his face practically against the glass, staring down at it forlornly. It was so pretty, its shape reminding him distinctly of the dream catchers he used to be so fond of making when he was a child – that he still hung up in his room in childish fascination.

Maybe Bakura would like it. Bakura was hardly a superstitious person, nor was he the type to collect antiques, but there was something about this artifact that reminded Ryou of his lover. Perhaps the cold gold it was crafted from, or even the fact that it's dream-catcher shape alluded to their relationship – symbolizing how Ryou felt Bakura protected him at all times the way the dream catchers in Ryou's room protected his dreams.

Yes... That would be perfect. He just had to get it.

Feeling hopeful, Ryou entered the shop, finding the clerk behind the back counter. He enthusiastically enquired about the item he had seen in the front window.

"I'm sorry, young man," the elderly woman said, shaking her head, "someone already purchased that earlier this morning."

The optimistic smile on Ryou's face disappeared, his eyes dropping to stare at his feet. "O-oh... Well, thank –"

"--However, I do have something similar," she interrupted him, a knowing expression on her face. This perked Ryou back up, albeit only slightly. "Would you like to see it?"

Ryou nodded his head once and the elderly woman disappeared into the back room, returning minutes later with a small gold box in her hands.

"I'm uncertain as to how old it is, but judging by the worn condition of the gold, I would have to say it most likely dates back a thousand years or more." She chuckled. "But... supply and demand has made it seem rather worthless. I'm afraid not many people find interest in old antiques like this."

The white-haired teen examined the artifact, looking it over and trying to figure out whether Bakura would take interest in it or not. It wasn't as symbolic as the dream-catcher artifact in the window, nor was it as nicely taken care of, but it was still beautiful in its own ancient way. Plus, the many pieces of it were broken apart – like a puzzle. Bakura was fond of puzzles and riddles, and other such things that required the use of the mind.

"How much?"

The clerk told him the price and Ryou bit his lip, wincing. It was just teetering on the edge of his limit. But... Bakura would like it. Ryou could feel it as he stared at the antique; Bakura would love it.

"I'll take it," he decided with a firm nod.

Ryou clutched the box close to his chest as he stood by himself in a corner of the public bus. He huddled close to a window away from the small crowd that had formulated in the center of the vehicle.

Bakura – so protective of his fragile lover - always hated when he rode the public transportation system, and Ryou had to admit that he wasn't too fond of it himself. The stares he received from other passengers sent Goosebumps crawling across his skin. When he was with his boyfriend, it wasn't so bad; Bakura typically held him in that oh-so-possessive way that was characteristic of him, giving everyone on the bus the general message of 'back off'.

But when he was alone, things were different. Ryou could feel the eyes of several others – whom he saw were older men when he timidly looked around – boring into him. He could also sense people staring at the package in his hands.

He stood by the window by himself, trying his hardest not to make eye contact with anyone – for if he did make eye contact, it might send the wrong message, and Ryou most certainly did not want that to happen.

The teen was so thankful when the bus arrived at the stop near his street. He hurriedly exited the vehicle, the box still in his hands, and moved as fast his legs could carry him away from the bus stop.

The snow crunched under his feet as he made his way towards the street where his and Bakura's house was located. The afternoon sun had taken its place in the sky, shining brightly and bringing some warmth to those who braved the streets on the cold winter day, but Ryou could still see his breath appear in a cloud of white smoke each time he exhaled. He couldn't wait to get back inside his house, where the heater was waiting. He still had several hours before he needed to be at work, so he had time to warm up, hide Bakura's present, and maybe even take a short nap.

Ryou's thoughts strayed back to the gift he bought for his significant other. Chocolate-brown eyes dropped down to gaze at the gold box and he studied it, wondering seriously what Bakura would think once he opened it. Would he be disappointed with it? No... He would never be upset with anything Ryou bought him – or, at least, he would never make it appear that way in front of Ryou. Bakura was good when it came to hiding his feelings in order to keep his boyfriend happy; that came as a surprise to most people who didn't know him very well.

A tiny smile appeared on the white-haired teen's face as he spotted his home at the end of the lane, decorated with its icicle lights and light-up snowmen, and line of large red-and-white striped candy canes leading up the driveway to the front door. The red-painted front door with the green wreath hanging in the center, and the lanky young man collapsed in front of it.

Ryou nearly dropped the box in his hands as the thought fully registered in his mind. Regaining his secure hold on the package, he sprinted over to the door – where he discovered that there was, indeed, a young man not much older than himself stooped in front of the door – seemingly asleep.

"Oh my God!" he gasped, setting his things on the ground before kneeling down next to the man - whose face seemed oddly familiar, and yet he couldn't put a name to it. "Sir..? Sir, are you okay?" he asked in a panicked voice. A million thoughts raced through his mind as he quickly scanned the dark-skinned male before him for any visible physical injuries. Nothing.

The man stirred, turning his head minutely to the side and cracking open one of his eyelids to reveal a startlingly bright amethyst gem of an eye. The other eye opened shortly afterwards and the stranger stared up at Ryou with an expression describable as nothing less than utterly confused.

After a moment, recognition crossed his bronzed features. He swallowed before asking, in a hoarse voice, "R-Ryou...?"

Ryou blinked as his own name slipped passed the stranger's lips, a thin brow furrowing in perplexity. This man knew him? That was odd... Ryou couldn't recall ever meeting the blonde ever in his life, so how could he know his name? Maybe he didn't know him... Maybe it was just a friend of Bakura's he had met in passing.

"Y-yes... That's me..."

"May I come inside?" the bronze-skinned man asked, his lips twitching upwards in an embarrassed smile. "I've been waiting out here for a while... I'm kind of frozen."

Ryou's deep brown eyes widened and he jumped to his feet, taking his keys from his pocket and scrambling to open the door. "Sorry. What was I thinking? Of course you must be freezing – you're barely wearing anything at all!"

It was true. The blonde-haired man was donned in little more than a lavender button-down, a black tank top and jeans. Ryou ushered him inside, disregarding the little warning bell that went off in his head about how he was allowing a complete stranger into his home. Since the man somehow knew his boyfriend, Ryou figured he could trust him.

The heater was on in the house, and the man let out a relieved sigh as he entered. Ryou closed the door behind him, setting his keys on the rack and removing his wet boots. After placing the package containing Bakura's gift on the kitchen counter, he walked back into the foyer where the blonde-haired man was still standing.

"U-um... Bakura is at work, if you're looking for him," Ryou said, eyeballing the suitcase the man had brought inside with him in curiosity.

"I'm not looking for Bakura. I came here to see you, Ryou."

The eighteen-year-old frowned, looking over at the blonde. "I-I'm sorry, but... I don't know you," he said, voice quiet and embarrassed.

The blonde's smile faltered for a moment, sliding from his face, before reappearing again. "I shouldn't be so surprised... It's been a while since we last saw each other. We were just little kids. You hadn't even moved here yet. Think back to when you were about, say, ten years old and your father took you and your sister with him to one of his digs in Egypt... There was a cute little Egyptian boy who was trying to court you."

Ryou pursed his lips as he thought back to the vacation, calling to mind the image of a small, dark-skinned boy with hair of spun gold and big amethyst eyes, presenting a lotus blossom to a flush-faced ten-year-old version of himself. Ryou gasped as the name suddenly came to him, a smile appearing on his face.

"Malik Ishtār!"

How could he have forgotten the little boy with the unruly bleach-blonde hair and the blushing cheeks who had given him his first kiss? The little boy who chased him practically all the way to the airport the day he left to go back home? The little boy who learned English just so that he could send him letters? Ryou hadn't thought of Malik Ishtār since he and his father moved to America. (1).

"I-I can't believe this..." Without another thought, he threw his arms around his old friend, enveloping him in a warm and inviting hug. Malik's arms wound themselves around his waist instinctively, completing the embrace. "What are you doing here? How-how did you know where to find me?"

Malik flashed a grin that could be considered flirtatious, if Ryou wasn't already in a relationship and completely oblivious to such things. "I already told you. I came to see you – I promised I'd come find you one day. Remember?"

"Y-yes, but... But that was such a long time ago, Malik. I didn't think you'd actually – I mean, you lived so far away, I couldn't imagine..." his voice trailed off and he shook his head, sending colorless locks tumbling over his narrow shoulders. "How did you find me here?"

The Egyptian – all grown up now, and so very handsome – gave a nonchalant shrug in response to the question. "After you stopped replying to my letters, I got pretty worried. But Isis told me I should just wait a while... and a while turned into two years. I called your house a last year – of course I kept your number. Your sister told me about the divorce – I'm sorry about your parents, by the way; that must've been tough on you – and said you and your dad moved to America. She gave me your address and everything so I could contact you – I'm so glad I'm getting the chance to see you again after so long."

Ryou didn't know what to say. Such devotion was shocking, especially in this day and age. He couldn't believe his old friend, whom he hadn't seen in nearly seven years, was actually standing before him. "I... I'm happy to see you too. I'm sorry about the letters... I wanted to keep writing to you, really I did. After I moved I thought my mother would forward my new address to you... But apparently not."

And then I forgot about you... I got so caught up in making new friends, getting Bakura to like me... I forgot all about Malik.

Ryou felt an immense sense of shame settle in the pit of his stomach at the thought. How could he have been so self-absorbed? And Malik... What a good friend Malik was. To come and find him, after all these years had passed.

"It's great to see you again." He fidgeted, biting down on his lower lip, not quite knowing what to do. "Um... Please... have a seat, Malik. Make yourself at home. I'll go make some tea..."

Ryou disappeared into the kitchen, fumbling around for the kettle and teabags. It was awkward, having an old friend in the house; he felt unsure of what to do or say – yet there were so many questions he was dying to ask. He busied himself with filling the kettle with water, hoping Malik was still more extroverted than himself and capable of striking up a lasting conversation. Luckily, such was the case.

"So, do you live here by yourself?" Malik questioned, situating himself on the couch after removing his black boots and setting them next to Ryou's by the door.

The chocolate-eyed teen hesitated at the question, uncertain of whether he wanted to go around talking about his relationship with Bakura to a near-stranger – that's what Malik was now, pretty much; Ryou knew absolutely nothing about him anymore, since he obviously was not the same blushing little ten-year-old boy he had been the last time they saw each other.

Considering the fact that, when they were young, Malik had been absolutely smitten with him, Ryou had no idea how Malik would react to hearing that he was already involved in a serious relationship. Then again, that was almost seven years ago. Certainly Malik's feelings for him had died by this point.

Right..?

"Um... no, not exactly," he answered slowly, setting the pot on the stove burner and turning on the heat. "I'm... I'm... with someone..." He allowed his voice to trail off, hinting at the fact rather than directly stating that he was in a relationship.

The chocolate-eyed teenager couldn't figure out why he was so hesitant to flat-out state the truth – he didn't want to see Malik upset, he supposed. But what was the big deal? He and Malik had never been in an official relationship. They were only ten years old the last time they laid eyes on each other! It was just a crush on Malik's part – puppy love, as the adults would call it. Just puppy love.

Malik was silent, not turning to look back at the other. His lilac eyes gazed around the living room, settling on the dazzling Christmas tree before moving on to observe the many pictures clustered atop the brick fireplace.

"Ah... I can see that," he said as his focus settled upon a photograph of Bakura and Ryou lying in a pile of fallen autumn leaves – with a laughing Ryou's head resting in smirking Bakura's lap. A slight frown appeared on his tanned face the longer he stared at it, an unpleasant sensation stirring his insides. "You two make a cozy couple."

Ryou walked away from the stove so that he stood in the archway that connected the kitchen to the sitting room. Following Malik's intense lilac gaze, he as well drew his attention to the photograph of himself and Bakura. A slight smile crossed his features for a brief moment as he recalled the day that picture was taken.

Not making any move to reply to the compliment – for it was a strange compliment, spoken in a way that could make it seem like an insult, which made it hard for the recipient to respond to – he instead said: "Tea's almost ready..."

Malik ignored the statement. "What's his name?"

Ryou let out a quiet sigh, feeling strangely guilty over the fact that Malik discovered the photograph. What was going on? He had nothing to be ashamed of – absolutely nothing! Straightening his posture, he cleared his throat. "Bakura – Akefia Bakura. He's a year older than me."

Malik made a noise of comprehension in the back of his throat before tearing his eyes away from the picture to meet Ryou's gaze. He studied the other, and after a moment under the scrutinizing lilac orbs Ryou was forced to look away, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

The kettle whistled, officially signaling the end of the discussion as well as giving the whitenette an excuse to turn and exit the room. He finished preparing the tea in silence, adding a dollop of milk to each mug after pouring them. Quietly he set the teacup before his guest, setting one on the coffee table for himself afterwards, and then took a seat next to Malik on the couch.

Malik stared at the drink for a moment, and then reached up and took hold of it, gingerly placing the rim to his lips.

"It's hot," Ryou warned, but Malik had already taken a sip and winced as the scalding liquid burned its way down his throat. A giggle escaped his lips. "You always were impatient..."

The Egyptian opened his mouth, a smirk on his face, to say something. But before any words could come out, his gaze flickered to the photograph of Ryou and his boyfriend. Shaking his head, he took another small sip of the tea. "Life's too short not to be, I guess," he said – though that obviously was not his intended response to the remark.

Ryou stirred his drink with a teaspoon, testing the temperature every now and again. "So... um, how have you been, Malik? How is Isis? Rishid? Are they well?"

"They're good... Isis is married now."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah... Fell completely in love with a named Shaadi, and they got married last spring. He's a good guy. A little on the serious side but, well, so is Isis, so I guess they're perfect for each other." He gave a chuckle and shook his head.

Ryou smiled, inquiring about the wedding and if there was any chance Malik brought along pictures with him. They conversed for a while on the subject of Isis's marriage and then moved on to Malik himself. Fresh out of high school, the Egyptian was hoping to start his adult life in America – picking up an old piece of his past along the way, hence the unexpected visit. He just arrived that day, and was planning on enrolling in the nearest community college as soon as possible.

"Where are you staying?"

As soon as the question slipped from Ryou's lips, Malik grew quiet. He looked around, evading his host's eyes.

"Malik... you do have a place to stay, don't you?"

"Huh? Oh... yeah. I'll stay in a motel for a few nights, 'till I can find a place of my own to rent out."

Ryou frowned, not liking the idea of his old friend living in a motel for any period of time. Malik was still young; he couldn't have very much money – especially now after he had spent to come to America. Domino City wasn't a huge city, but it was an expensive city to rent in – if you could even find an apartment to rent, that is. At this time of year, especially, the chances of Malik finding a place of his own anytime soon were slim to none.

"Why don't you stay here for a while," he suggested softly.

Malik shook his head immediately. "No, no. I didn't come to impose. I just came to see you. I don't want to butt into your life – you have a life with someone; it'll only cause problems if I stay here with you."

The white-haired teen placed his hand on Malik's left arm, idly marveling the acute contrast of their skin colors. "Malik, please, it won't cause any problems. We have a spare room with a pullout bed. I know it's not the comfiest of things, but it's probably better than any motel mattress. And it's free."

"I don't know, Ryou."

"Oh, come on. I can't exactly throw you out when you've traveled halfway across the world to see me, can I?" Ryou joked, offering a friendly smile. "Besides... wouldn't you like to experience your first Christmas with a friend? Stay. I'm sure Bakura won't mind."

Malik's lavender eyes fell to the ground, where he stared at his feet. He took another sip of his tea before nodding once. "If it makes you happy."

"You sound just like my boyfriend," The whitenette pretended to complain, giving a melodramatic roll of the eyes. "Now come on. Let me show you to your room..."

(1): Yes, I know that Yuugiou takes place in Japan. But I don't know the Japanese culture well enough to write a Fanfic that takes place there. Since I live in America, it's easiest for me to follow the dub (as much as I dislike it) and set the story in Domino City, America. I'll be using dub names for all the characters except Ryou and the Ishtars.

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That's it for chapter one. Thanks for reading! Please review!!

- - Dorobo