Title: Homecoming
Fandom: Bakuten Shoot! (Beyblade)
Pairing: Yuriy x Boris
Authoress: Ladyfiction
Themes: #006 Traveling abroad, #046 Homecoming (Visiting one's parents), #086 Holiday.
Rating: T
AN/Warning: None
Disclaimer: Nothing

-Homecoming-

The air was fresh and crisp, refreshing to the lungs that inhaled the immaculate breeze, whistling through the sails. Seagulls had once sung a melody in their flock along the shorelines of the Moscow port but this far out, only clouds floated in the clear blue sky, as marine as the waters below.

Tourists had gathered from miles for this wondrous cruise traveling to Tver, and then back again. Others planned to exit the boat once it arrived. They were amongst those people, the ones laughing amid themselves, watching the entertainment or leaning over the edge to marvel at the shimmering blue beauty, free of ice and the arctic. Alas, they were doing none of that.

Had they know they would be sea sick, for two long days; maybe they would have reconsidered the idea of a ferry trip. The prospect of venturing a float saved them quite the few rubles in their pockets, but now, as they rocked on the deck's surface, there was no lunch left in their stomachs that they had paid for.

A big wave swept the boat at that moment and as the swaying began, the same process each man felt also debuted. First, they scrambled to stand, pulling on the safety rail and holding on tightly as they lurched their bodies forward and upchucked over the edge. Blue eyes, like the water, opened first as drops from his orbs joined the streams and its infinite depth. Slowly, he sank back down onto his knees.

The retched sounds filled his ears, as minutes later, his partner resumed position beside him, red cheeked and a nauseous countenance. They sighed and once again, laced their hands together. This was going to be a lovely trip. People spared them glances and in return, with their free fingers, they showed the following guests their own, mature opinions.

That is how they liked to call it.

The offended called it being flipped off by seasick homosexuals.

Yuriy wished it would all just end. Wouldn't someone throw him overboard? He felt sick again but there was nothing left in him to vomit. Everything, from the large take off meal they consumed the night before, all the way to lunch's three-course meal was now a part of the sea, added with bile, of course. They felt disgusting and that is exactly how it tasted and so bitter as well.

And this would be the easier part of the long voyage. He swallowed hard. The only event that could possibly by any worse then their sickness was the whole reason behind going. Who would have ever taught that this Russian would have a family, waiting for him when their past ordeals were done? He was no orphan, simply motherless with a father he had only met once prior, when he was young.

His nervosa had long consumed him, a feeling he had forgotten even existed inside of him. It was overwhelming and questions flooded his brain. What kind of man would this father be? For hours, the redhead lost himself in these thoughts. Even on the boat, he still pondered the situation about to unfurl. He was bringing an announcement along with him, the hand that twined with his own, for the first time.

Boris could have cared less what people thought of them and if his father would be the same way. Either acceptance, or disapproval, it would not change a thing. The whole visit though, was a challenge, for them both. They did not have the cleanest of slates from their past and people, everyone, seemed to remember those devastating days that lingered in their memories.

Albeit reminiscing, or dreaming of those memoirs, if they could put their horrendous recollections behind them, why couldn't people do the same? Yuriy prayed his father would, so they could start anew without any secrets hidden in their closets. This was after all, his homecoming, his holiday, and his confession. He wanted things to go his way.

Nevertheless, the seas seemed to disagree as another wave shook the whole boat. He also proved himself wrong. There was still something left inside of him to spew overboard. That was when they decided to head back for their room, their simple haven away from hell on the main floor. They dragged one another down the hallways beneath the higher decks and stumbled within, each yearning for the bed.

''We are never traveling by boat again.'' Boris stated and was quickly agreed with by a silent nod and a kiss to his cheek.

That was the only time they did not want to kiss each other and decided to skip straight to snuggling, with a barf bucket at the bedside. They would think about the meeting later, much later when they were off the boat and on solid ground.

-EndE-