Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

My fault--I should have mentioned earlier that in this fic, the characters exist in America. The use of dub names implies that they aren't in Japan, and while I normally can get away with leaving Domino City in some undefined Westernized country, they had to leave the city this time. Therefore, I made the country America, because the amount of research that would have been required to put them anywhere else would have resulted in this never getting written--but if they're American, I can just borrow personal experience.

Otogi's dub name is Duke Devlin, but the characters went back and forth between calling him Duke and Devlin--so I just use Devlin. Because every time I see or hear Duke, I get this mental image of Joey singing "Duke of Earl" until Devlin cracks him in the head, and it's hard to type while giggling.
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He'd found that the major problem with bringing someone else along on a trip he'd intended to be solitary was that he was still stuck with the whole social barriers thing.  If he'd been alone, he wouldn't have cared about doing something inane and at random, but with Devlin around he didn't want to look like an idiot.

Though, sometimes he forgot that.  Two days later when they were driving down a highway that was nothing more than two lanes and an occasional shoulder, they started passing farmland. 

When a cotton field came into view, he slowed down and pulled onto the shoulder.  Devlin made an amused, 'what the hell?' noise, but he ignored it and climbed off, jamming the keys in his pocket.

He used the scrub brush to safely jump the fence, and wandered into the field.  The season had apparently already gone by, because most of the cotton was stripped clean.  He pulled off a piece that had been missed by the machinery and rubbed his thumb over it, picking out a seed.

When he turned around, Devlin was leaning on the fence, watching him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"You know," Tristan told him, "life is normal."

He scored two eyebrows raised for that comment, until Devlin frowned and stared out at the field.  A minute later, he gave Tristan a half-grin.  "Good point."

Tristan flicked the cotton into the air and said, "Nice ta know, huh?  Domino City ain't the world."

Devlin laughed.  "Thank God for small favors."

Tristan climbed over the fence and pulled out the keys.  "We might as well stop this afternoon, since we turn around tomorrow."

"About that," Devlin said.  "Do you actually know how to get back?"

"That's what the map is for," Tristan answered.

Devlin gave him a flat look.  "Tell me you're kidding."

"I'm kidding."

Devlin squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.  "We're never going see home again."

"Hey!" Tristan said.  "Have a little faith, huh?  We'll get back before school starts.  We're only three states away."  He stuck the key in the engine. 

Devlin rolled his eyes and slid onto the bike.  "I feel so much better," he muttered.

Tristan frowned over his shoulder and turned the key.  The engine coughed, sputtered, and died.  He tried again, with the same results.

"C'mon, start!" Tristan pleaded.  The engine died a third time.  "Shit."

Devlin started snickering.  It turned into full-out laughter after the fourth failure.

"You're not helping," Tristan growled.

"You have to admit," Devlin said, calming down, "that life's got a sense of humor, too.  'We're only three states away'!"  He started chuckling again.

Tristan had to smile at that, but he glared at the gauges anyway.  He got off and started scanning the bike.  "It's too hot to check.  But if I can't fix it....Crap.  A mechanic will wipe me out."

Devlin jumped down and leaned over the seat to look at Tristan.  "Good thing you brought me, then.  Or you'd be hitchhiking back."

Tristan sat down on the concrete.  "Well, hell.  Do you remember what the sign said--how much further to the next town?"

Devlin shrugged a shoulder.  "Double digits."

Tristan huffed.  "Great.  Just great.  It's too hot to walk that far."

"Eh," Devlin said.  "We'll just get someone to give us a ride to the town.  Try and look sexy."

Tristan made a 'what?!' face at him, but Devlin ignored it and sprawled across the motorcycle.

Tristan continued to stare at him before shaking his head.  "You know, if DDM doesn't pan out, you should pose for Playgirl."

Devlin snorted.  "Thanks."

In an hour and twenty-three minutes, eight cars had gone by.  None stopped.

"You sure you look sexy enough?" Tristan asked, sitting in the patch of shade the bike gave.

"You could always take your shirt off," Devlin replied, an arm draped over his eyes to block out the glare.  "That should help."

"Don't feel like sunburning," Tristan replied.

"You'd rather walk all the way to town?"

"I think we should start doing that anyway," Tristan said, standing up.  "If I can't fix it, we need to grab a mechanic."

"Don't worry.  Even in the middle of nowhere, they can't close before noon," Devlin said.

"No, but they can go on a three-hour lunch break," Tristan answered.

"Wait another half hour," Devlin replied.  "If nobody drives by, we'll walk."

"They'll drive by," Tristan muttered.  "They just won't stop."

Devlin lifted his shoulders.  "Like I said, lose the shirt.  Maybe we'll get lucky and some girls will fall in love with you."

Tristan gave him a side look.  Then he yanked off his shirt and tossed it onto Devlin's head.

"Agh!"  Devlin started in surprise and wound up sliding off the bike.  He held up the shirt, then gave Tristan a look.

Tristan was staring cheerfully in the other direction.  He had the urge to whistle.

Devlin shook his head and jammed the shirt under one of the bungee cords.  "You're surprising."

Tristan raised an eyebrow.  "I'm sorry?"

"I like that."

Another car passed them up.  A few minutes later he was about to grab his shirt back so he could wipe his face, when a truck appeared.  It passed them, then slowed and pulled over to the shoulder.

Devlin stood up and smirked at him.  "I told you so."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

The truck had two girls in the back and a guy driving.  The guy, Ben, helped him and Devlin get the bike into the back of the truck and told them that the mechanic in town would be open until four.  By then he was ready to ditch the hunk of metal just to get a shower.

He wound up sitting in the front, since Devlin was yanked into the backseat as soon as the two girls caught sight of him.  He got the feeling that Ben was dating one of Devlin's newest fans, judging from his annoyed look.

"How long were you guys out there?" Ben asked.

Tristan checked his watch.  "It's been about two hours since the engine died on us.  Can you give me directions to the mechanic?"

Ben shook his head.  "I'll drop ya off.  It's only a street over from where we're goin'."

Tristan grinned.  "Thanks, man."

"Yeah, thank you," Devlin echoed.

"Yer welcome."

The nearest town was nineteen miles away, so Devlin fished dice out of somewhere--and he really wanted to know where the guy was keeping those dice, since his clothes weren't exactly loose--and spent the time doing tricks.  Ben didn't understand why Devlin looked so amused when he asked if they were from Louisiana.

Ben dropped them off at the auto shop, and he dragged the bike over to the shade and checked it.  One he got a clear, cool view, the problem was minor--he could fix it with the tools he'd brought.

It seemed a little insulting to repair his bike in a mechanic's parking lot, but it wasn't like he could move somewhere else.

"They've got a laundromat two blocks down," Devlin said as he walked out of the shop.  "We might as well get that out of the way."

"I'm starving," Tristan said.  "And we both look like road kill."

"Speak for yourself."

"Hey, did any cars stop until I started getting naked?"

"Congratulations," Devlin smirked.  "You should have asked Ben if we could stay at his house.  He obviously wouldn't have turned you down."

Tristan rolled his eyes.  "Is there anywhere to eat around here?"

"I asked, but the guy looks annoyed.  I wouldn't risk it; I bet he gave me directions to the junkyard," Devlin answered.

Tristan pulled out his keys and tried the engine again.  It sputtered and caught.  "Yes!"

He took a brief test run around the block, and the bike drove as smooth as before.  So, after hitting up Burger King and eating in the laundromat, he refilled the tank and they started looking for a place to stay.  They wound up at a Holiday Inn.

"Wow," Devlin said.

"What?"

"There's a mini-bar," Devlin told him.

"In this kind of place?" Tristan asked, looking out from the bathroom.

"Yeah."  There was a popping noise.  "Help yourself--my treat."

Tristan raised an eyebrow.  "Thanks.  I'll be sure to get us stranded more often."

They ate dinner straight out of the mini-bar, and he and Devlin wasted the rest of the night watching HBO and bad reality television.

"Why do these shows still get ratings?" Tristan mused after Survivor closed.  "People don't do anything but mock them any more."

"But they have to watch it in the first place to mock it," Devlin replied from his seat at the desk.  "It's devious."

"Not really," Tristan said, glancing over from where he was lying on the bed.  "They're all the same.  If you saw one of the first few, you could make jokes based on that.  Nothin's changed."

"It has too," Devlin said.  "There're internal differences--they aren't as similar as people make them out to be."

"And you would know this how?"

Devlin glared.  "I hold the remote, you know.  Any more slander on my taste in TV shows and we're watching Real World."

Tristan raised an eyebrow.  "You wouldn't put yourself through that just to spite me."

He learned that Devlin was not a person who bluffed. 

Halfway through the second episode, Tristan covered his head with a pillow.  Devlin turned the volume up. 

"Look," Tristan gritted, "if you don't turn this crap off I'll take that remote from you."

Devlin smirked.  "Oh, really."

Tristan lifted the pillow enough to glare at him.  "Yeah, really.  You're shorter then me; I can kick--OW!" he yelped when a die hit him between the eyes.  "You bastard!"

Tristan threw the pillow, but Devlin blocked it with an arm, laughing.  He tossed the remote onto the bed.  "Here, end the torture."

Tristan scowled at the television, violently selecting the TV Guide channel.  Nothing good was coming on until the next half-hour, so he just let it run and watched the interview.

Devlin sipped his Dr. Pepper.  "What's your problem with reality TV, anyway?"

"It's fake," Tristan answered.

Devlin raised an eyebrow.  "Don't tell me you're one of those artistic integrity people?"

Tristan rolled his eyes and picked up his Pepsi from the floor.  "No, it just bores me.  Ya cram a bunch of people together, watch 'em fight, eventually someone's tragic past comes to light, and by the end you've learned secrets about people you're never gonna meet.  It's just...dull and unbelievable."  He chugged the bottle and set it down.

"You lost me with the 'unbelievable'," Devlin said.  "The whole point is to put them in unreal situations--it's not supposed to be believable."

"Not that," Tristan explained.  "The idea of people talking so openly about their private lives to a camera is just weird.  People don't do that."

Devlin took a drink of soda while shaking his head, which was harder than it looked, Tristan knew.  He'd tried it.  "So...you like to keep to yourself?"

Tristan shrugged.  "I guess.  No.  I just wouldn't talk about my worst fears or my kitten's death when I was eight to a giant audience on top of a bunch of strangers I was living with."

"Okay...."  Devlin nodded.  "So what's the dumbest thing you've ever done?"

Tristan gave him a look.  "Yeah, like I'm gonna give you something to blackmail me with."

"I'm serious."  Devlin stretched slightly.  "I'm not an audience or a stranger you're living with--so c'mon, tell me something."

Tristan gave him a suspicious look.  "You first."

Devlin rolled his eyes.  "Fine."  He paused, screwing the cap back on his bottle.  "When I went to talk with Pegasus about producing my game, I asked if he wanted to sleep with me."

Tristan blinked at him.  Devlin threw the bottle at the trash can; it bounced off the counter and rolled in.

Tristan reached for his soda in order to have something to do besides stare.  He drained the rest of it, then frowned.  "I thought he was married, or engaged or something with that Cecelia chick."

Devlin nodded.  "That's why he turned me down."

Tristan made an empathetic face.  "Ugh.  Yeah, that must've been pretty embarrassing."

Devlin shifted so he was sitting sideways in the chair, legs draped over the arm.  "It could have been, but he was polite about it."  He shrugged.  "Doesn't matter; I wouldn't change it."

Tristan gave him a curious look.  "What?  Why not?"

"What if he'd said yes?" Devlin replied.  He twisted around into as comfortable a position as he could manage while sitting sideways in an armchair and looked at Tristan.  "There.  I'm obviously not gonna blackmail you--so what've you done?"

Tristan threw the empty Pepsi into the trash, scanning through his memories.  Something stupid, something stupid...something stupid but not illegal, since that one was between Joey and himself...huh.  The answer came back to the same one it always did when he thought about the things he'd screwed up in his life.  "Bakura."

Devlin frowned.  "Huh?"

"Bakura," Tristan repeated.  "You remember him, the guy with the white hair?  In our freshman class?"

"One of the Millennium Item people, right?"

"Yeah."  He rolled over onto his back and folded his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.  "I always have this feeling that if I'd keep a better eye on him, he'd be alive."

"There's no way to prevent car wrecks, Tristan.  Unless you're omnipotent and haven't mentioned it."  Devlin's tone wasn't blowing off the subject, just saying the same thing Joey and Yugi had told him--it was an accident.

"Cars don't go over the guardrail on bright afternoons when there's no one else on the road," Tristan muttered.

Devlin stayed silent, and he could see from the corner of his eye that the guy was staring at the wall.  Tristan continued.  "I dunno.  It's just a feelin'.  If he hadn't been alone in the car I wouldn't even think it, 'cause he'd never hurt someone else."  Tristan half-shrugged.  "It's just....I feel like I shoulda caught a sign and done something earlier."

"Was there anything to do?" Devlin asked.

Tristan stared at the watermark in the ceiling.  "Probably not.  But I still should've kept an eye on him more.  He just...didn't seem like the kind of guy who could take care of himself."

The TV babbled in the quiet, and Tristan frowned.  He propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Devlin.  "Wait, are you gay?"

Devlin gave him a flat look.  "And you're an A student.  No wonder Domino High didn't get that Exemplary award."

Tristan was trying to pick between glaring or keeping his confused expression when Devlin continued.  "Yeah.  Is that going to make the rest of this trip weird?"

"No..." Tristan said.  "It actually helps.  I couldn't tell if you were flirting with me or not."

Once again, he scored two eyebrows raised for that.  "You were flirting with me?  I thought I was imagining it.  Hell!"  Devlin eyed the pillow on the floor and looked like he was going to throw it at Tristan.  "I thought you were head over heels with Serenity!  And what about Miho?"

Tristan laughed.  "Man, if I really tried to date Serenity, Joey would cream me.  And Miho...three years and I still can't get a date?  I can take a hint."

Devlin made a growling noise and reflexively brushed his bangs aside.  "Since when did you like guys too?"

Tristan shrugged and tried to look serious.  He settled for a grin.  "I figured it out around last year.  There was a really hot senior on the basketball team."  He managed to tone down the grin and gave Devlin a questioning look.  "Why are you so surprised?"

Devlin waved a hand at him.  "You're a jock."

"And half the female population of our school's in love with you."  Tristan paused.  "Huh.  Maybe that should've been a sign."

Devlin chuckled, then looked at him.  "So...I was flirting with you.  And you were flirting with me?"

When it was put bluntly, Tristan paused slightly.  "Uh."

Devlin swung his legs back around and stood up.  He moved slowly enough that it was pretty obvious what he was going to do, but Tristan didn't stop him.

When he reached the bed, Devlin waited a minute before leaning down and pressing his lips to Tristan's.

When he pulled back a moment later, Tristan raised an eyebrow at him.  "And?"

Devlin gave him a look.  "You know, you can be a jerk at times."

"This from the guy who put my best friend in a dog suit."

Devlin smirked at that, then knelt on the floor so he could comfortably kiss him again.  A moment later Tristan opened his mouth and ran his tongue lightly over Devlin's lip, not sure what counted as 'too much too fast' to the guy.

Apparently not that, because Devlin was quite happily French kissing him now.

Tristan could feel a crick developing in his neck from tilting his head back too long, so a moment later he pulled away.  He sat up and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.  "Ow."

Devlin made a face.  "I hate Pepsi."

Tristan gave him a side glance.  "Thanks.  That makes me feel real good."

"I could swoon if you like."

"I can be a jerk?"

Devlin grinned up from where he was sitting against the bed.  "I never said I wasn't."  He picked up the remote and flipped back to MTV.

They watched Clone High, and he pretended that he wasn't getting caught sneaking looks at Devlin, since Devlin was pretending that he couldn't see him doing the same thing. 

After that he got up and showered, since their plan was to leave early tomorrow.  When he walked out of the bathroom, Devlin had turned off the TV and was asleep on his own bed.

He slid under the covers of his bed, making sure not to untuck them any more than necessary--he liked sleeping with the sheets really tight.  Joey gave him grief about it all the time, whenever he stayed over and watched him make the bed in the morning.  He turned out the lamp.

"I do not snore," Devlin muttered.

"Yeah, you do," Tristan answered with a grin.

Devlin growled.

Devlin spent breakfast bitching about the price of the mini-bar, so he sprung for the meal.  They took off for the highway that would eventually lead back to Domino City, and he was suddenly more aware of the fact that Devlin had to wrap his arms around his waist in order to stay on the bike.