Bakura kept up his strange behavior for the next two weeks, and Ryou was starting to get suspicious. He almost expected Bakura to suddenly announce that Ryou owed him for all his help and command him to do something either illegal or degrading. After all, Bakura was still the same spiky haired man who smelt of blood and had an obsession with sharp objects. But the trusting side of Ryou wanted to believe that Bakura really had changed. Ryou half wished things could go back to the way they were, but without the almost daily beatings. He wasn't yet used to Bakura's positive attention, and was unsure whether he preferred living in fear or confusion. Gone were the days of flinching when Bakura came near, waiting for a fist or a foot to make an imprint on pale skin. Now when Bakura entered a room Ryou felt his spine stiffen automatically, almost anticipating the slightly too long linger of a hand on his shoulder, or the subtle brushing of his arm as he walked past.
That was another thing that troubled Ryou, the Thief's physical gestures were always kept subtle, and might even go unnoticed by an observer, but it seemed to Ryou that Bakura used any excuse to touch him. The flat was large enough that they could pass each other easily, yet Bakura would take up far more room than necessary just so he could brush against Ryou.
"Hikari." A velvety voice broke Ryou from his thoughts and he looked up.
"Hm?" He responded absently, too focused on the fact that Bakura was clearly fresh out of the shower and had chosen to go shirtless. He swallowed thickly as he watched rivulets of water trickle from Bakura's now limp hair down his bare chest.
"I'm up here." Bakura said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Ryou snapped his eyes up immediately, feeling warmth rise to his cheeks which only grew as he saw Bakura raise an eyebrow suggestively with his trademark smirk.
"Now you've finished eyeing me up," Ryou squawked slightly in protest but Bakura carried on speaking, "when do you break up?"
Ryou blinked and his brow furrowed in confusion, his lips settling into a slight pout.
"Break up..?"
"From school." Bakura sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly. "Honestly, if I'd known my abs were that distracting I would've put a shirt on."
Ryou's blush increased but he set an indifferent look on his face and snorted a derisive, "Don't flatter yourself."
Bakura's eye twitched in annoyance, but the cheeky comment was left unpunished, something Ryou had yet to get used to.
"And this Friday, since you're so interested."
Bakura nodded dismissively, then, much to Ryou's horror sat heavily on the sofa next to him, unnecessarily close as usual.
Ryou glanced over at Bakura who was now channel surfing, wearing an unimpressed expression and muttering curses about each show he paused on. A bead of water trickled between his abs, making its way down til it reached his jeans. Ryou quickly snapped his head away, face red hot and eyes wide. He hadn't noticed before, but Bakura's jeans were quite low riding, his well sculpted stomach leading down to a worryingly distracting triangle which disappeared into his black boxers, the waistband of which was showing over his jeans.
"A-aren't you cold?" Ryou asked, mentally slapping himself for stammering.
Bakura looked up, noticing how flustered Ryou was and the fact that he refused to look at him and grinned. "I am a bit actually."
"So why don't you put something else on?" Ryou suggested, struggling to keep his voice steady as Bakura leaned nearer, smirking playfully. Their arms were already pressed together, and Ryou, who had unwisely chosen the corner seat, had no chance of escape.
"Hmm.." Bakura made a mock thoughtful noise and tapped his chin with a slim finger. "I don't think I'll bother, its much more fun watching you all flustered."
Ryou was beginning to panic, Bakura was unpleasantly close, he could smell his shampoo and his natural scent, blood and rust. He could feel the waves of heat coming from Bakura's far too exposed skin, despite his claims of being cold. Warm breath tickling his ear made his throat hitch audibly and a low chuckle resonated all the way to the base of his spine, making him shiver.
"Now now Hikari, I wonder whats got you so worked up." Ryou could imagine Bakura's expression, mouth set in a dangerous smirk, eyes filled with a mixture of sadistic pleasure and genuine amusement.
Ryou's mouth had dried up, his tongue seemed too big and he was breathing shallowly, almost afraid of making too much noise, of letting Bakura know he was affecting him.
"Playing the silent game?" Bakura whispered into his ear, obviously enjoying his psychological torture.
Ryou pressed his lips together tighter and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Bakura shift his weight on the sofa, moving so one of his knees was between Ryou's. The position made Ryou feel trapped and vulnerable, a horrible reminder of Bakura's old temperament.
Bakura chuckled again and Ryou felt the vibrations running through his body, "You know, with the way you're acting, I'd almost think you were gay, Hikari."
"You know I'm gay Bakura. We share a mind link." Ryou pointed out, logic coming to his rescue, if not a little overdue.
Bakura huffed slightly, annoyed Ryou hadn't taken the bait.
"True. But you didn't use to hide things from me very well." Ryou tensed at this, but kept his eyes firmly shut. "I know exactly what you think about when you're alone. I know all your dirty little secrets."
Ryou twitched in annoyance, eyes opening indignantly to see an expanse of creamy white flesh, perfect even with the scars that crisscrossed it. Any anger he felt faded, quickly replaced by a strange sense of sadness that pooled in his stomach like a rock. Most of the scars were old by now, bumpy from home-made stitches, white and slightly shiny. The most recent one ran all the way down from his collarbones to his stomach, red and angry looking. It sliced him in half down the middle, a harsh contrast to his almost albino white skin. Ryou unconsciously relaxed, eyes flitting over Bakura's chest with a mixture of fascination and a queasy feeling that wouldn't go away.
Bakura seemed to notice the change in mood and leaned back, removing his face from it's position in the crook of Ryou's neck, the perfect place to whisper in his ear. He looked down at Ryou with curiosity, head cocked slightly, studying Ryou's face. Bakura's eyes narrowed slightly as Ryou raised a delicate hand, not once looking at his face. Bakura instinctively flinched slightly as Ryou placed his fingertips over the long scar, but forced himself to stay still. Ryou gently ran his fingers over the raised skin, able to feel how deep the cut had been in one particular area by the texture. His eyes picked out the smaller red dots where the stitches had been, lined up neatly in pairs of two. Ryou slowly felt his way down the scar, fingertips barely grazing the warm and surprisingly soft skin which raised and lowered gently as Bakura breathed.
Bakura watched Ryou's face, surprised by the mixture of emotions he saw in his brown eyes, which stared almost unblinkingly at his scarred torso. Ryou's fingers were warm and gentle, flitting down his skin carefully, as if worried about breaking him. Bakura had no idea how much time had gone by, but his hair wasn't dripping any more. Ryou's fingers finally finished their exploration, lingering on the unblemished skin of his lower stomach. Bakura let the silence last for a few more seconds, trying to tell himself it was because he couldn't think of anything clever to say, not because he liked Ryou touching him.
"If you wanted to feel me up you only had to ask." Bakura smirked, effectively ruining the peaceful, if not slightly bizarre atmosphere. He removed himself from the sofa a moment later, effectively freeing Ryou, who took the opportunity to throw a magazine at him, though not maliciously.
"Go put a shirt on Bakura." He ordered darkly, a mixture of embarrassment and a sudden, inexplicable surge of bravery making his voice more playful than he'd intended.
"Of course, Ry." Bakura said, smirk turning into something akin to a normal smile as he left the room to get a shirt, though he wasn't cold any more.
Having snapped out of his almost hypnotized state, Ryou rolled his eyes at the Thief's retreating back, noting as he did so, how well shaped his shoulders were. A burst of laughter from the next room let him know the mind link was not closed properly and he quickly slammed it shut, blush blooming on his cheeks.
'You never learn Hikari.'
'Oh shut up.'
Ryou sat on the sofa, desperately trying to calm down and reduce his blush before Bakura returned, no doubt to torment him more. He just about managed and was feeling distinctly less panicked, if not still quite warm when Bakura strolled in wearing a striped t-shirt. He resumed his channel surfing again as if nothing had happened, still sitting too close for Ryou's liking.
"Kura." Ryou asked, face lighting up with a Bakura-like smirk.
"Yeah?" Bakura's eyes didn't leave the TV.
"You realize the mind link works both ways right?"
"Yeah..." Now Bakura sounded insulted.
"Well you used to be pretty bad at hiding stuff too." Ryou remarked, pretending to be very interested in his nails as he spoke casually, aware of Bakura's eyes staring at him.
"What are you getting at." Bakura's voice had gained a dangerous edge, and Ryou knew if he looked over he'd be pierced with a steely glare.
"Well, you can't really say anything about me being gay." Ryou took a glance at Bakura, whose eye twitched. "Not when I know you're gay too."
Bakura ground his teeth together in annoyance, trying to think of something witty to say.
It didn't work.
"Shut up Ryou." He snapped, turning to the TV in a sulk which became more and more fake when Ryou's laughter met his ears.