Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
Despite the wealth of love notes in his locker, Duke Devlin isn't having a good day. He wasn't having a good day when he woke up this morning, having had the same torturous dreams as always of all the things he can't have. Breakfast was worse, where an over enthusiastic fan-girl somehow managed to seize his number and contact him with a squealing, high-pitched proclamation of love. Every single class today has been irritating, especially gym class, where no fewer than ten girls (and even one blushing boy) informed him that he looked absolutely mouth-watering in his track shorts. ...They're extra short, naturally, and don't leave much to the imagination—it isn't that he doesn't want the attention.
It's just that he wants the attention from someone else entirely. That one person somehow fails to notice that Duke changes right next to their locker, twisting sensually around in his lack of clothes and swaying his hips too much as he tugs on his pants. He even lingers too long in the showers and fails to dry off properly, so that the clear droplets will glisten all along his skin as he magnificently steps out of them.
He walks right up to Tristan Taylor and asks to borrow a towel, and Tristan has the complete audacity to hand it to him without looking.
At lunch Duke practically felates his Popsicle right in front of the whole class, turned around in his seat to the card game going on atop Yugi's desk. He can't stare at Tristan the whole time, obviously—he doesn't want to let on how desperate he is. And there's no need for everyone else to know. But whenever he does look over, Tristan is simply watching the cards. Duke tries not to glare furiously at said cards while he eats his pocky using entirely too much tongue.
Now they're in Yugi's living room, and it's not much better. Duke isn't really friends with Yugi, exactly—he's more there just for stalking reasons. The fact that he, Duke Devlin, can't get someone is driving him mildly insane. He's rich as all hell, famous, and popular, and there's really no reason that he should be the outsider in this little group—the one to attract the least attention. When Yugi announces that he has a card to show Joey in the front of the shop, Duke's first instinct is to stay behind. Then Tristan decides to say, and that immediately concretes Duke's answer. Yugi and Joey nod, getting up to leave. Duke and Tristan are left alone together, Duke still silently fuming.
Tristan has no idea about this, naturally, but that doesn't make Duke any less irritated with him. Tristan's as oblivious as ever. He's as average as ever. He's just a regular man in ever sense of the word, with regular talents, a regular income family, a regular school life, and regular friends. He doesn't have to go home and run a company. All he ever does is hang out with his friends.
Duke's out of his league, and why Duke is so excruciatingly obsessed with the very-average-Tristan-Taylor is completely beyond him.
But for whatever reason, he is, and as hopeless as he's feeling today, he still tries to put a bit of a purr into his voice as he murmurs, "Hi." He turns sideways on the couch, resting his arm on the back and leaning his head on his hand. He shuffles a bit closer—Tristan looks over at him. ...Duke is well aware that 'hi' isn't exactly an award-winning pick-up line, but... it's been a long day.
Tristan blinks numbly at him, repeating, "Hi."
"Why aren't you looking at cards with Yugi and Joey?" Duke tries, starting off casually. When Tristan glances to the side, Duke shuffles inconspicuously closer—one more step and their legs will be touching, but Tristan looks back before he gets that close. Tristan stretches and throws his arms around the back of the couch. Duke would feel satisfied, as technically Tristan's arm is now around him, but it's on the other side too, and that doesn't exactly feel romantic.
Tristan shrugs, mumbling, "'Dunno, just haven't been that hyped on cards lately. ...'Got other things on my mind." ...Girls, no doubt. That's the first thing Duke's very jealous mind conjures, and he isn't at all happy about it.
Screw it. The irritation overrides Duke's fear of looking like an idiot, and he closes the last bit of distance. Tristan is still leaning casually back into the couch, and Duke sidles right up to him, even going so far as to throw one leg over his lap. Tristan's chocolate eyes glance down, and Duke tilts his head, eyelids lowering. He twirls one strand of ebony hair in his finger, purring as erotically as possible, "So... Tristan... anything interesting happen lately?"
Looking back up as though the leg over his lap is nothing, Tristan says, "Well, you know the dance is coming up, and Serenity says that she hasn't gotten a date yet..."
Duke's cheeks turn a vivid shade of red. He stopped pretending to be interested in Serenity the moment he realized the competition wasn't getting him any closer to Tristan. The idea that Tristan is still vying for her is nothing short of infuriating. ...The idea that Tristan is still vying for anyone, with Duke already practically draped across him, is maddening. Fueled entirely by this bubbling aggravation, Duke abruptly switches positions.
He hikes himself up onto Tristan's lap, fully sitting in it, his thighs to either side of Tristan's sides and their crotches together. He steadies himself with two hands on Tristan's broad shoulders, flicking his ponytail out of his face. He leans in so close that their noses touch, and Duke mutters coldly, "I don't mean Serenity. I mean has anything interesting happened to you, Tristan."
Without missing a beat, Tristan says, "Well, this morning I found some old board games in my closed I could play with Serenity on the weekend."
It's something akin to being slapped in the face. It takes Duke a second to recover, and then he practically growls, "I have a game for us to play. It's called 'stop confusing poor Duke before he dies of frustration,' because you can't seriously be this stupid."
Scrunching his nose up and looking taken aback, Tristan mumbles, "Confusing how? How am I being stupid?"
"Is that a serious question, Tristan? Really? You think it's normal for friends to act like this? For a full grown man to invite another over to his house for a sleepover, or to come to school in tight leather pants, or to ask to borrow another man's towel? You think friends normally climb into their friends' laps?"
Grinning slightly, Tristan chirps, "Yugi wears tight leather pants."
Duke slams their lips together, effectively shutting Tristan up.
His eyes slide closed and he lingers too long. Tristan's mouth stays closed, so Duke can't snake his tongue in, but he wants to. But it's probably for the best. When he pulls back, he's as red as ever, and he grumbles, "Don't act like you don't see me."
"Oh," Tristand blinks, "that."
"That," Duke grunts.
Tristan bites his lip. It's incredibly sexy this up-close. Duke isn't sure if embarrassment of fury is what's turning him pink, as Tristan says, sounding halfway between amused and sheepish, "Er, sorry. I do see you, I swear... I just didn't want to ogle to openly, because I was worried you'd stop giving me such nice things to look at." He grins rather widely.
Conversely, all of the blood drains from Duke's face.
"So... you did know."
"Not that you were going to kiss me."
"But that I liked you."
It's Tristan's turn to blush, and he mumbles, "Er, not specifically. I mean, you're just a big flirt in general, so..." Duke waves a hand to shut him up.
"You're an asshole."
"I'm sorry." And Tristan looks so genuinely apologetic while he says it that it's hard to be angry.
So Duke settles for being horny. But Tristan leans in before he can, kissing him hard.