Chapter 14

"A lot more than okay."

He wondered if the ridiculously overpowering feeling of elation blossoming in his gut could really be trigged by such a simple phrase.

He saw the boy's face, wide-eyed, his usually pale skin flushed to a warm red in contrast to his own dark fingers still lining the boy's cheeks.

He lifted his hands and let them drop, his movements slowed by his brain screaming at him to continue what he'd been doing. After all, it would only be too easy. The boy was right there.

Instead, he felt his lips open mechanically, and meaningless words trip out of them. "All right, then." He took a step back, to be safe. "Shall we eat?" Another step back. But it seemed that no number of steps was going to help turn down the dial on all the sensations ricocheting within him.

"Oh. Um." The boy looked confused, stunned even. Somehow his expression soothed Atem. It was proof that what had just occurred hadn't just been his imagination. Proof that he wasn't going mad. Or proof that he was.

Atem pulled out a chair and gestured at it, his movements distorted and warped. He felt as if he were someone else, floating above at a high vantage point, watching his idiotic physical self trying to play normal. He moved between the kitchen and dining area, eyes intent on the dishes in his hands.

Yugi sat at the table, the confusion on his face only increasing as time ticked by. Atem could see how rigidly the boy held himself, neither leaning forward nor back, uncertainty flaring from him in strong waves.

Well, that makes two of us.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle himself. After that kiss every movement felt both miserably dull and yet frighteningly unfamiliar. His joints seemed weak, his bones a little mellow, and it had only been one kiss.

One kiss!

At that thought, he let the dish drop heavily onto the table, startling the both of them.

Yugi jumped, eyes landing on Atem for the first time after the kiss. And Atem realized that while he'd been hoping for Yugi's eyes on him, it was difficult to hold the gaze. He was afraid of what he might read in the boy's expression

"Sorry," he muttered to the table. "Hand slipped."

He served the food, the tiny clinks of spoon on ceramic and the soft music in the background sounding impossibly loud against the absence of words at the table.

He pushed the plate towards Yugi, who pulled it towards him with two fingers. He watched as the boy lifted a fork and sifted the rice with it. There was a listlessness to the moment that propelled Atem to open his mouth, but once his lips parted, he found he didn't know what the right words were to speak.

So he hunched over the table instead, failing to taste or feel what he was shoving into his own mouth, failing to meet Yugi's eyes, failing to say anything. Simply failing.

He could feel the air of the room pressing tighter and tighter against them, sealing them into a tense bubble of discomfort, the heaviness weighing down on them as if it was determined to make one of them break.

The scrape of the chair made Atem look up. Yugi was on his feet, his plate in hand, his body angled towards the kitchen. He was avoiding Atem's eyes.

"That was delicious." The statement was missing the usual life that Yugi's voice seemed to inject words with. It made Atem's stomach clench, and he almost rose, almost pulled the boy towards him. But again he simply failed.

Instead he watched the boy stumble away and leaned back against his chair, the disappointment and relief in his chest fighting a seemingly never-ending battle.

He was right. The disappointment didn't disappear over the next few days. Neither did the relief. He knew that as someone who truly priced bravery that the relief shouldn't be so palpable but it was.

The apartment was in darkness once again. It seemed he wasn't the only one consumed with this uncertainty. It had been two days since the kiss and he'd hardly seen Yugi. It was astounding, really, how for two people who were living in the same apartment they managed to see so little of each other. It was unsurprising that they might miss each other in the mornings, but Atem had hoped that he might have been able to catch a glimpse of Yugi tonight at least.

The hoping had been in vain. Yugi must have decided to do what Atem guessed he'd been doing for the last two days: spend the nights at a friends' house. Atem hadn't heard a peep out of the boy's room.

He tossed his bags onto the floor, swallowing against the bitterness in his throat. The conflicting desires swirling inside him were driving Atem mad. Half of him didn't want to see Yugi again, and the other half was longing to feel that clear-eyed gaze on him. Yugi had only been living with him for a few weeks, and those weeks hadn't even consisted of much interaction between the two, but for some reason it was enough to make Atem miss the boy. He sank onto the couch, exhaustion making his limbs heavy.

The apartment was hushed. Usually, when he came home, there was always the sound of music on in the background, some soft instrumental to quietly welcome Atem home. Or, something which had never failed to make Atem smile, the sound of Yugi humming contentedly in his room.

Atem sighed now and stretched out on the couch, bunching a cushion under his head. Now he was coming home to pin-drop silences and curtained darkness. Which was highly irritating because he'd been just fine coming home to that during the Pre-Yugi-Era. Atem throttled a cushion. How was it that the boy had managed to change things so in such a short amount of time? And how was it that Atem had been foolish enough to let the boy do that?

Atem flicked on the television, its blue light tinting the room in a mournful glow. He watched without paying attention. A sigh escaped his lips, and he felt his lids growing heavy, his own breathing acting as a lullaby, making him drowsy. The sounds grew quieter, the light dimmer, and soon he was blissfully ignorant.

He felt something tug softly at his foot. Something brushed across his ankle, tickling him, and he jerked it away.

"Sorry," he thought he heard someone whisper. He couldn't be sure though. Sleep still had a hold on him.

There was tugging at his other foot now, soft but insistent. A soft pitter-patter of feet, and then a quiet whoosh and he was warm.

Atem rubbed his eyes, squinting against the rude light of the television. He saw a figure hovering by his feet. He lifted his head, squinting some more.

"Yugi?" His voice was scratchy from sleep.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just didn't think you were comfortable lying there with your shoes on."

Atem blinked, realizing that Yugi was holding onto his leather shoes. "Oh." He also realized that there was now a blanket covering him.

There was a beat of silence, and Yugi turned, breaking their gaze. "I'll just put these away."

"Ok." Atem nodded, though the boy had already moved away. He blinked at the ceiling, his mind trying to shed the drowsiness of sleep. He wondered how long he'd been out. The room was still dark except for the insistent glare of the television.

"I really didn't mean to wake you." Yugi was back, hovering by the foot of the couch, and looking anxious.

"No, don't worry about it." Atem pulled himself up with a grunt, the sheet falling to his waist. "I just wanted to take a short nap, anyway." His eyes locked onto the boy's.

Yugi nodded quietly, slipping his hands into his pockets.

The beat of silence stretched, with neither of them breaking the gaze this time.

"So, where have you been the past two days?" Atem thought the question might make Yugi drop his eyes, but instead the boy held his gaze, with the only change being a tinge of red that appeared across his cheeks.

"I went to say with a friend."

Atem nodded, feeling anger well up inside him, though he wasn't sure if it was directed at himself or at the boy. After all, he himself had tried avoid the boy for two whole weeks.

He was pulled out of his brief reverie when the boy suddenly moved, coming to stand before Atem, making him look up in order to hold their gaze.

Atem noted with a start the sudden gravity that had taken over Yugi's violet eyes. And for some reason, he was gripped with a tense anticipation. He dreaded the thought of what the boy might say. He watched, powerless, as the boy's lips parted.

"Atem. . ."

"Yes, Yugi?" He wanted to tell Yugi to stop, to tell him that he didn't have to say whatever he was going to say next, it would be better that way, he, Atem, would be happier that way. But he couldn't.

He watched as Yugi licked his lips, and then set them in a resolute line, his chin jutting at a determined angle.

"I want to apologise."

Atem blinked. The statement was so unexpected that he found he didn't know what to do or say. Except perhaps blink some more, and maybe frown a little.

"I shouldn't have run off like that after . . ." Yugi faltered. "After that day. And I shouldn't have avoided talking to you. Especially not for two days straight."

Again Atem wanted to stop the boy, tell him that if that was the case, then they were both in the wrong, but it seemed that once Yugi started, he wasn't going to stop without finishing what he had to say.

"You're helping me out in a tough situation and I'm really grateful for that. And I don't want to make the situation worse by making things even more awkward for you."

And suddenly Atem found it in him to put up a hand and stop Yugi's words. "Yugi. I was the one who kissed you, remember?" He was aware that some anger was still colouring his words but it couldn't be helped.

Yugi flushed a deeper red, and this time he did duck his head. "Yes, I . . .remember."

Anger flared up in Atem's chest. Or maybe it was disappointment. All he knew was that it tasted like bile. "You want me to apologize for the kiss, is that it?"

Yugi's head shot up. "What? No!"

"Because I don't want to."

"Well, I don't want you to!"

"Fine." His words were short and angry, but Atem could feel satisfaction coursing through his veins.

"And . . ." Yugi looked away, and then back at Atem, his tone a little softer, "I'm glad you don't want to apologise. If that makes sense." A hand reached up to tug at the hair at the back.

Atem felt another flaring in his chest, but this time it was altogether different to anger. His eyes took in the boy's small, nervous movements and he nodded slowly. "It makes sense."

Yugi nodded, too, sighing softly. "Ok. Good." And then with a louder sigh, he flopped down next to Atem on the couch.

Atem watched as the boy chewed his lips with an energy that made him want to reach out and stop Yugi. However Yugi seemed on the verge of saying something else so he restrained himself.

And he was right, because the next second Yugi had rounded on him, taking a deep breath. "And, the other thing. I mean, it might not be any of my business, so if you can't tell me then it's fine. But it was weird, even before . . ." Yugi's words came to another halt.

"The kiss," Atem helped him out. It was strangely endearing, the difficulty Yugi seemed to have with uttering the word.

"Yeah, even before that," Yugi continued, determinedly ignoring his own hesitancy, "you were still kind of distant. And I don't think it was just the thesis, either. It seemed almost as if you were angry at me, or that you –" Yugi's eyes flickered away, before reconnecting with Atem's – "that you regretted me moving in."

Atem's lips parted, but Yugi was still throttling ahead.

"And don't feel as if you have to tell me if you don't want to. I get it. I just – I don't want to make things worse for you. And I don't want them to be weird or, or, for me to tiptoe around you, or for you to tiptoe around me, or – or . . ." Yugi's words slowed once more, and this time a touch of sadness seeped into his expression. His eyes slid away, and he stared into space, head slightly bent.

"Yugi." Atem cleared his throat, because he found that his voice was hoarse.

"Yugi," he said again, because he liked the boy's name in his mouth, and because the boy hadn't looked at him the first time. "Look at me."

The boy did.

"You're right. It was weird. You weren't imagining it. And before I say anything else, I want to make it clear that I do not regret you moving in." Atem stared at the boy, desperate to make him understand.

Yugi blinked, looking as if he didn't entirely believe what he was being told.

Atem couldn't help but be amused by the boy's incredulity. He leaned his arm into Yugi's, and tipped his head forward, capturing Yugi's gaze. "I do not regret it. Is that clear?"

Yugi nodded, his lips slightly parted.

The sight was a tempting one, but after one lingering look, Atem tore his gaze away, his eyes landing on the much duller image of the television screen.

"And you were right about the other part as well," he continued, talking at the television. "I've had something on my mind now for the past few weeks. That's why I was a little . . .distant."

"Oh." Yugi nodded. "You don't have to continue, you kno-"

"I know," Atem interrupted him, taking in the boy's clear-eyed expression. "I want to."

Yugi simply nodded again.

"Do you remember that envelope?" Atem picked at his blanket-covered knee. "How I said that it contained info about my biological father?"

He felt rather than saw Yugi nod.

"Well, I opened it."

"You did?" Yugi's eyes were round with anticipation, and Atem wanted to chuckle.

"Yeah," he smiled down at the boy. "It was just after that conversation I had with you actually."

Yugi's lips formed an 'O'.

Again, Atem had to tear his gaze away. He allowed the television to capture his attention, taking in the meaningless grin plastered across the flamboyant man looking at the camera.

"And you know what?"

"What?"

"It turned out I already knew him."

"You did?" Yugi's surprise was plainly evident in his tone.

Atem nodded, glaring at the television.

"Um . . . do you know him well then?"

"I don't know, how well can you know such a man?" Atem asked, nodding at the television, and then turning to look at Yugi.

Yugi looked at the television, then back at Atem, his whole face an incredulous question mark.

"You mean ...?"

Atem nodded grimly.

"He's your father?"

"Apparently so, if the biological sciences are to be believed," Atem remarked, his tone sarcastic.

Yugi's expression was bewildered, his mouth quirked in a crooked disbelieving line. He turned his gaze back to the television screen. "I can't believe it," he murmured. "Maximillian Pegasus is your father."

Eheh. Yeah. Please leave a review. You guys have no idea how motivating they can be.