Ok, I guess by now everybody knows I got a thing for Jou-but then again how can one not like him? So brave, wild, honest, fierce(trails off and drools, as she imagines a shirtless Jou)…
4
It was a heated battle, Yugi fought against Bakura, but then again, it was nothing new:The spirit of the Millenium ring had taken over his host's body, caused trouble, challenged Yami to a duel and was now recieving the usual ass-kicking by the pharao.
The whole school was gathered around them, seeing as the duel took place on the teacher's parking lot, where Kaiba's sports car was also parked. Said CEO was watching the fight with mild interest, making mental notes of each of the combatant's strategies.
A soft rustling of cloth on metal made him turn his head, and to his surprise there stood none other than Otogi Ryuuji, arms crossed, as he leaned against the blue-white Nissan R390GT1 Road Car Seto called his.
"How's the saying go, 'the more things change..'?" said the black-haired teen, causing the brunet to face the battlefield anew.
A while both were silent, and then Otogi sighed:
"You know, I really thought, you would win. I mean, I knew, you're an extraordinary dancer, so I counted on you, to make Jou look like a fool. Well, looks like I'm a fifty and a game poorer. Still, you got some really nice moves."
With that, he pushed himself off the car and, walking towards the almost finished duel, threw back over his shoulder:
"Oh, by the way, Kaiba, you look great in Armani."
For a moment, the young president just stood there, blinking, then a sly smile crept across his features.
'Now that was not what I would call decent. Might as well come out of the closet, Ryuuji.'
With that thought, Seto got into his car, seeing as how Bakura had been defeated once again, and drove to his next meeting.
This time, it took the letter five days to arrive at his place, and when it did, Seto had to restrain himself, not to tear open the enveloppe. However, his face fell considerably, when, instead of a heated confession, he read those lines:
So it is not with me as with that muse,
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers and all things rare
That heaven's air in it's huge rondure hems.
Oh, let me true in love but truly write,
And then believe me my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
The letter slid into the dark confines of his desk.
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