Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.
Sorry, sorry, sorry! I really didn't mean to leave a two
month gap between chapters, I swear. And it's short because so much happens on
the 20th that I decided to make that a chapter of its own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When he checked over the budget the next day, he realized that they were going to have less than he'd planned by the end of the month. It was still enough, but after the mess with the bike he didn't want to take a risk and wind up strapped for cash. The only way to get around the lack was to spend more time on the road.
The problem: he could only drive for so long. The solution: teach Devlin to drive the motorcycle.
Though it was weird to be on his bike and not in front, it went better than he'd expected. Devlin drove a standard, so the main trouble was getting him to remember that the clutch, breaks, and throttle were all switched around on a motorcycle. Well, that and ignoring the innuendoes about driving stick. Now, they cleared a lot more time the third day. The only trouble was, it left him with more money, but less time with Devlin.
It was about then that he realized the trip had changed from being something to figure out who he was when he wasn't acting for others, to including how having Devlin--who had somehow pulled himself out of the status of 'other people', the cocky bastard--around changed him. He was surprised to find that the difference wasn't much.
An hour later, they came to a new city, and Devlin yelled over the noise that he was stopping there. He pulled off the exit ramp and hit eight consecutive red lights.
"Nice choice!" Tristan called. Devlin muttered something under his breath.
A little while later Devlin pulled the bike up to a Marriott, and Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no offense, but I can't afford to breathe the air here."
"That's okay," Devlin said. "I've got my credit card on me."
Half of Tristan wanted to say that he didn't want to leech off of Devlin, and the other half wanted to strangle the guy with his pony-tail. "That might have helped to know when I was ranting about the budget Thursday."
"Yep," Devlin agreed, shouldering his duffel. "But then you might not have taught me to drive your bike."
Tristan tossed his bag over his shoulder. "You could have just asked...."
"Too easy."
He was seriously uncomfortable standing in the lobby while Devlin rented a room, but there wasn't much to be done for it. He contented himself with using the video camera to glare at the guy indirectly.
He didn't realize he'd been noticed until the woman at the counter turned around to get the key card, at which point Devlin looked up and gave the camera an evil smirk.
He debated flipping him off, but by then the lady had turned around. Instead, he followed Devlin to the elevators.
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"Your point being?" Devlin asked as they stepped inside.
Tristan glanced upwards. He leaned over Devlin's shoulder to check the floor number, then hit the button. "Never mind."
All the rooms were beginning to look the same to him, but he still had to admit that this place was snazzy.
Devlin threw his duffel and himself onto the closest bed. "Ahh, no cigarette smoke. No broken air conditioners. No lady with eight cats that I know weren't allowed to be in there."
Tristan snorted. "Aw, were the motels not classy enough for ya?"
"The company made up for it," he replied.
Tristan smirked. "Well, of course. Anybody'd give their right arm to be in your place, spendin' all day with a handsome guy like me."
Devlin sat up with a smirk. "You sure you don't have that backwards?" Tristan glared at him. Devlin just laughed and stood up.
Tristan rolled his eyes and threw his bag onto the other bed. "Ah, bite me."
Devlin raised an eyebrow. "You never told me you went for the kinky stuff."
Tristan stared at him and shook his head in amazement. "Geez, how did you ever manage to convince people you're charming and refined?"
"Because I am charming, and refined and debonair and whatever else there is." Devlin flipped his hair out of the way. "I just happen to be a lech at heart, as well."
Tristan laughed at that, and Devlin used the distraction to walk over to him. When he'd quieted, Devlin grinned.
"You know you're really hot when you laugh?" he asked. Then he reached up and caught Tristan's chin, pulling him down into a kiss.
Tristan grinned and kissed him back. He wondered where to put his hands, then decided to hook them in Devlin's pockets. The other brunette smirked at that, then shoved him back.
"Wha--" Tristan's hands slipped out and he crashed into the desk chair that had been strategically behind him. Devlin followed, bracing a knee on the seat and half-straddling his lap. He leaned down and kissed him again, and Tristan slid his tongue out and ran it along Devlin's lip.
Devlin relaxed and settled onto his lap, opening his mouth with a grin and quickly responding to the kiss. Tristan raised an eyebrow when he felt Devlin's hands slide under his t-shirt, but he draped his arms across Devlin's back anyway. The movement was more awkward than he wanted to admit, but he still wasn't sure where to keep his arms.
When Devlin's hands slid into his shorts a moment later, though, it wasn't okay anymore. It wasn't like he owed the guy for the damn room or something.
Tristan shoved him back slightly, and Devlin stood up. "What are you doing?" he said.
Devlin gave him a half-confused, half-flat look, and fine, he had to agree that it was pretty obvious, but...still. "I'm not that easy, okay?" Then Tristan softened the words, since he really did like the guy. Like that. "Just, y'know, hang on a while, huh? We've got a couple more weeks."
Devlin paused at that, and then started chuckling under his breath. He moved back enough to sit on the set of drawers cattycorner to the chair, pulling a leg up to rest on the edge as he laughed.
Tristan narrowed his eyes and was about to yell at him when Devlin spoke. "I should have thought about what this would seem like to you."
Tristan frowned. "What?"
There was a long pause, and Devlin started twisting a strand of hair around his fingers. "Tristan...." Devlin looked over at him. "Did you ever stop to wonder why, if I'm gay, I was competing with you for Serenity for so long?"
He hadn't. Come to think of it, it was a pretty good question.
Tristan frowned slightly. "I just figured you liked her, too."
Devlin shook his head. "No. I mean, she's a nice girl, but there was nothing there."
He raised an eyebrow. "Then, what? Didja just feel like bein' annoying or something?"
"Well," Devlin said with a half-grin, "you're also pretty hot when you're pissed off."
Tristan blinked at that, and stared at him. Then he leaned back and slouched down in the chair, a confused expression still on his face. "Wait...are you trying to tell me you've liked me since back then?"
Devlin nodded, still toying with his hair.
"I can't believe this," he said, staring at the TV for lack of anything else to look at. "Three years, and you never said anything?" He glanced back over. "Since when did you have restraint?"
Devlin lifted the corner of his mouth. "I didn't think I was being subtle, but next time I'll throw myself in your lap in the classroom. Will that work?"
Tristan gave him a half-hearted glare, and Devlin shrugged. "Look, I don't want to make things weird since we've still got a while to go before we reach Domino, so I'm okay with whatever you're okay with. I'm just trying to say that...this isn't...I'm not rushing."
Oddly enough, that made him feel better. Tristan leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his legs and letting his hands hang down. "Okay."
There was a long pause, and then Devlin said, "So, can we make out if I keep the hands above the waist?"
Tristan made a startled noise between a choke and a snicker. "Jesus, beneath all that flair you're just a horny pervert, ain'tcha?"
"The leather didn't tip you off?"
Tristan shook his head and bent over, shoulders shaking with laughter. He calmed down a few moments later and stared at the floor, thinking.
Then he looked up again with a grin. "Sure. Sounds good."
And so he had quite a lot of fun until they had to get presentable enough to go eat dinner.
It was impossible to tell that they had used the bathroom for anything other than the intended, but he still felt guilty. So the next morning he bought some chocolate chip muffins at the breakfast bar and left them in the room for the cleaning ladies, despite Devlin's smothered snicker.