A/N: This was originally supposed to be a 'one-shot'; but it was the first story I ever uploaded and I didn't realize there was a 'complete' button. ^^;
So I blame Time-Stopping-666, Tairulz, jehbel, and an anonymous Guest with their overly-generous reviews, for pushing me to write this chapter.
Thank you for your reviews, and thanks to everyone for reading! :)
(I have outlined a possible chapter 3; however please do not expect it to be up soon).
~*~ –- ~*~
He was not nervous.
He was NOT nervous.
He was NOT nervous.
Malik groaned. His best friend had been sitting there, staring at his phone, for almost two. freakin'. hours.
"Just hit 'dial' already, cripes!"
Bakura jumped a good foot in the air before turning around to scowl at the blonde. "Shut up! I'm just... deciding what I want to say!"
The dark-skinned man snorted in disbelief. Medieval, modern, legal, illegal- it didn't matter what kind of tortures you came up with; Bakura would readily suffer them all before he would admit the truth.
It was rather comical, Malik mused; how an arrogant jerk like his best friend could be turned into such a wuss. Bakura Touzokou usually carried himself with a smug smirk, and a sense of entitlement large enough to crush a billionaire's blimp. But he'd recently been whittled down a few notches when he found his unclothed boyfriend wrapped around some ditzy slut.
And now he was acting uncharacteristically under-confident- especially when it came to the charming doctor he had just met.
Malik watched in amusement as the pale-haired man continued to hold onto his phone with a death grip. Bakura could be so abrasive and moody- he never understood why so many of their peers would beg him for a date. But then, Malik reflected, it probably wasn't his personality that they were drooling over. He turned his head to find the light-skinned fool still staring at his cell. The blonde rolled his eyes and recalled the events that led up to this point.
Three days ago, Malik had pushed his oldest friend into making an appointment with a health clinic. After a painful break-up, Bakura was single for the first time in nearly a year; and his tan Egyptian friend decided to hook him up. Malik was thrilled to find that his boyfriend, Marik, already knew a young, single doctor who just happened to be working at a local off-site clinic.
So, after much protesting, Bakura (somewhat) agreed to go to the 'damned medical office' – unaware that his friends had made certain the appointment was on a day when Ryou Bakura would be on duty.
Although Bakura had yelled at Malik before and after the appointment, he was thrilled to have gotten the physician's personal number. And he did (briefly) mumble a quick 'thanks' to his friend.
...After trying to beat the cr*p out of him, that is.
But it didn't matter what threats were promised- Malik had been thrilled too, and was eager to see the pair meet up. But then a new problem came around: Bakura was too damn nervous to dial the number he'd been given by the clover-eyed physician.
The socially-inept man was rarely this bad, and Malik took it as a sign of honest attraction. He knew Bakura well enough to know that the young doctor had mesmerized him. So it was very unfortunate that Ryou had given Bakura his number. Had it been the other way around, they would likely be a bona fide couple already.
But noooo- his stupid, stubborn, jack*ss of a friend couldn't admit that he was nervous about the whole thing.
Finally, the blonde's amusement started to fade and he openly rolled his eyes.
"If you don't want to talk to him, then just text him!"
"No!" Bakura snapped, his face slightly redder than usual. "That's... impersonal!"
Malik put his hands on his copper hips and frowned.
"Look, he's probably still on duty, which means you'll just get his voicemail. So leave a message!"
The anxious caller muttered something unintelligible, and continued staring at the screen.
Malik sighed.
This was going to take some serious intervention. The blonde strode off to make a few phone calls of his own.
Half an hour later, Malik marched back into the room. (Bakura was no longer staring at the phone- now he was staring at the ceiling. Malik wasn't sure if this was an improvement or not).
"We're all going out tonight!"
"No." Bakura's response was dull and immediate.
"Sorry, but Marik wants us both to meet him at Bar 451 in forty minutes."
"Malik, I'm not going to a bloody club tonight!"
An hour later, the white-haired grump scowled to himself as he stomped up to the bar.
'How the hell did I get talked into this?' He quickly ordered a rum-and-coke, eager to get the night over with. He grabbed his drink, left a tip, and quickly turned around.
...and promptly knocked into some unfortunate soul. The reluctant club-goer's dark-brown drink spilled all over the stranger's shirt, staining it instantly.
Bakura groaned to himself- great, now he had to pay for some dimwit's dry cleaning bill.
"Oh, dear..."
Wait- it couldn't be...
Sure enough, the unlucky victim had brilliant green eyes; soft, fair skin; and delicate white hair.
"Oh! Mr. Touzokou!" Ryou Bakura smiled pleasantly at the stunned man. "Or is it Bakura?"
The two crimson eyes blinked in a dazed stupor. "Er, Bakura's fine..." He glanced down at the MD's (formerly) sky-blue shirt. "...sh*t, I did that."
"Eh?" Ryou looked down at his dripping outfit. "Oh, don't worry about it- I'm a doctor; I can afford dry cleaning." He tilted his head and gave a playful smile.
But Bakura was feeling strangely generous for once, and he shook his head firmly. "No, I knocked into you- and that's ruined."
Ryou laughed and waved a hand up and down in dismissal. "Please, did you forget I'm friends with Marik? Believe me, my clothes have suffered worse mishaps than this!"
The other alabaster guy grimaced- he could empathize. But that didn't mean he would just walk away from this muddle.
The taller of the two held out a hand in offering. "Let me at least buy you a drink."
The soaked boy tilted his head in quick consideration before smiling. "Hmm... alright; that sounds fair." They turned back towards the bar, and waited while the bartender served another patron.
Bakura grabbed a handful of napkins and handed them to the grateful doctor.
"Thank you- so, did you come here to meet with someone?"
"No, the two blonde idiots dragged me here- they didn't give me a reason."
Ryou blinked and paused in his stain-blotting. "Oh? That's odd- Marik told me that Malik's sister is having medical issues and he wanted some 'informal' advice for her."
Bakura felt a sneaking suspicion slip into his mind, but decided not to say anything. "I think they're sitting over there- were you going to order anything else?"
Ryou shook his head and put the damp napkins in the trash. The bartender finally handed the shorter of the pair his drink. Meanwhile, the other white-haired man quickly paid for them both. Together they made their way to the two waiting blondes- Bakura felt something lodged in his throat, and he kept glancing sideways at the attractive MD.
Ryou easily slid into the fourth booth, taking the seat next to Marik.
Bakura followed suit with the opposite bench, slipping next to Malik. Bakura glanced at the thin, gentle genius sitting across from him. He then turned to the dark, brawny muscle-head that Ryou already knew. Bakura couldn't picture an odder friendship.
"How did you two even meet?" He pointed to Marik and Ryou.
The cheerful doctor smiled. "Marik and I met when I was still an intern at the general hospital. He had a rather nasty cut, and the needles made him nervous. So I spent some time talking to him while they stitched him up." But the emerald-eyed physician soon turned to the smaller blonde, his face showing his concern.
"Malik, you said something was ailing your sister (Ishizu, right)? I'm surprised you wanted to talk here- is she alright? You said it was a medical issue, correct?"
"Erm, right... Ishizu..." There was an awkward chuckle, and Ryou lifted a brow in suspicion. "Uh, well, somehow everything just healed right up," Malik rubbed the back of his head nervously, "and she's totally fine now- weird, right?"
The shorter man's face blanked, and he deadpanned, "...you made it all up, didn't you."
"Aw, don't pout, Ryou-cutie! You're just too naive for your own good! Besides, you need to get out more- trust us!"
"It's a wonder that I trust you two at all." The semi-exasperated man remarked.
Marik gave a deep laugh and playfully mussed up his benchmate's hair. "Well, fool you once, shame on us..."
"Right, right... well I'm glad she's alright then. But you also mentioned-"
"...you two planned this, didn't you." Bakura hissed to Malik as soon as Ryou was engaged in a conversation with Marik.
Malik smirked. "Well, of course not! What kind of person do you think I am? I'm certainly not the type to help a desperate friend who can't even make a simple phone call! That would be intrusive and awkward!"
"Yes, and I imagine it'll be very bloody awkward to talk on the phone after I've knocked all of your teeth in."
"Jerk."
"*sshole."
"Aw, is that why you love me so much? So sorry, 'Kura, but I'm taken!" Malik wrapped his arms around Marik's waist and gave him a tender kiss on the crook of his neck.
"Tch..." Bakura was seething but before he could reply there was a soft, melodic ringing from the doctor's right pocket.
"Oh!" The physician jumped and quickly checked the number. "It's the hospital- excuse me, I have to take this-" The youngest group member walked towards the bar's front door as he answered his phone. Bakura waited for the blondes to start up a new conversation.
But Marik and Malik didn't speak, or make any noise. They were both craning their necks to see where Ryou went.
Bakura was confused- it was nearly impossible to get those two to shut up (and heaven knows he'd tried everything short of two funnels and a bucket of cement), yet they were both silent. The dark duo stared anxiously at the occupied figure.
"What are you two-"
"Ssshhh!" Malik clapped a hand over Bakura's mouth (but quickly pulled away- he wasn't foolish enough to test the white-haired hellion). "We're waiting!"
'For what?' But the pale patron didn't ask out loud.
After a few moments of what looked like a normal conversation, Ryou hung up and quickly returned to the table.
He looked quite happy.
"Ryou-?" Malik asked tentatively. "What did they say-?"
Ryou's smile grew even wider. "Momoko Toriyama, 6 pounds, 5 ounces. A very healthy girl."
"Alright!"
"That's awesome, congrats!" The two blondes eagerly exchanged high-fives with the doctor.
Bakura raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You went up front, delivered a baby in the doorway, and then came back? In under three minutes?"
The shortest customer laughed. "Some of my colleagues may think I'm good; but I'm definitely not that good!"
Marik took a swig of his drink. "Ryou tends to do a lot of work with families that have difficult or dangerous pregnancies- such as ectopics or PGP- and he likes to keep tabs on them. So the nurses in the maternity ward often call him when one of his patients successfully delivers."
Everyone blinked- Marik rarely used big words, much less fluently.
"What?" The larger blonde shrugged. "We had to talk about something while he was stitching up my giant, bleeding gash."
...aaand back to normal.
The group soon started talking about Ryou's various 'success stories' at the hospital. He'd had some very complicated cases; but overall the ward had a great record- partly thanks to its outstanding staff. Eventually the conversation turned to the usual topic of careers. Bakura felt a sense of foreboding as the two bronzed boyfriends started goading the other pale man.
"Come on, Ryou! You could be filthy rich! You're the best doctor in the ward! Hell, they even offered to make you head of the specialized maternity ward!"
"But then I wouldn't have any time to devote to the welfare clinic." Ryou pointed out mildly, but his tone turned firm when the blonde started to protest further. "Malik, I like working in both places. I think everyone deserves the best medical treatment possible- whether they've had good fortune or not."
The bronzed man just sighed dramatically. "Marik, what are we going to do?! Our poor little Ryou wants to live all alone on the city streets, like a beggar!"
The physician merely grinned. "Relax, Malik; with the way the economy's been lately, I suspect you and Marik will both be joining me before I get too lonely."
Marik chortled in agreement. "Well, so far the insurance company's doing ok- but if it tanks I'll let you know which cardboard box we've picked out- fair enough?"
Ryou laughed before turning to the other white-haired man. "Oh, that reminds me, Bakura- what do you do for a living? I don't think I asked you before."
Bakura felt his stomach tighten- somehow he had the feeling that a successful MD wasn't going to be impressed with his line of work.
He was still struggling with what to say when Malik bluntly butted in.
"He's a starving artist!"
Bakura growled in irritation. "I am not a 'starving artist!' In fact, I just got confirmation that I'll be given the contract to finish the rest of the 'Honey Bunny' books- next- week..."
The annoyed artist froze in terror. 'Sh*t.'
He'd pretty much just unveiled his biggest secret.
Ryou blinked. "Wait, you mean those children's books that feature the little yellow rabbit and all sorts of life developments?" Apparently he recognized the highly popular book series.
"..." The other pale man looked away, his jaw clenched and his face turning redder than the cherry in the doctor's drink. "...erm, yeah."
"Really?! Oh, wow! Those books are wonderful!"
Bakura's head almost snapped back in disbelief. Ryou sounded... impressed?!
Indeed, the young physician's voice was almost reverent. "We have several of them at the hospital, and I bought extras just for the clinic! They're incredibly helpful when we have to explain complex things to the children of our patients- like what will change when their mum is pregnant, or what happens when they bring home a new sibling... in fact, I have a friend who works as a licensed counselor, and she loves them! She gives out copies to her clients all the time!" He gave a warm half-bow to the artist. "Thank you for working on them! They've made a big difference!"
Malik and Marik were stunned when their older friend flushed for a second time. Bakura rarely developed a blush; and it usually only happened when they pulled their best (a.k.a. worst) pranks.
Yet this fresh tinge was from humility, not humiliation.
Mr. Touzokou shifted his gaze in atypical modesty. "I just do the text designs, the surrounding non-character graphics, and the general page layouts." He spoke in a plain tone.
"Still! The books wouldn't exist without you!"
Bakura started to correct him, but decided to accept the compliment.
"Thanks. It's nice to hear that. My name isn't exactly on the books, so most people only know the author and illustrator. "
Totally by accident, and without any prior planning or intent, Malik and Marik began slowly driving the discussion towards topics that only the two blondes would know or find interesting.
Naturally, (and unintentionally, of course) this led to the white-haired duo to start their own conversation.
Ryou was quite engaging- he spoke with the same clever-yet-kind demeanor as he had when they had both been speaking in his office. Bakura was pleased to find that the doctor was just as perceptive and witty as he remembered.
In fact, he was very much enjoying talking with the other man. The entire 'having an intriguing and sincere conversation' idea was refreshing. Otogi was never much for deep discussions. He was shallower than a puddle, and preferred actions to words. He'd even admitted on several occasions.
'"I let my hips do all the talking."'
Bakura watched as Ryou spoke passionately about his interests and ambitions- and then asked Bakura about his own. It was nice, to have someone so genuinely interested in his thoughts.
He'd never felt this acknowledgment when he was with Otogi. Sure, they had some similar interests, and Otogi wasn't boring... but this felt wholly different. Otogi had made him feel... sort of an energy rush when they were out- like they were superstars or socialites. It was fun at first, but it was just a showy facade. It quickly grew complicated and unsatisfying. Bakura had no idea how tired he'd grown of it until after the break-up.
But here, with Ryou... everything felt different. It was like a warmth was steadily building inside of him. It wasn't fast or wild, but it still felt exciting- and far more gratifying.
Bakura snorted to himself. 'Tch... what is it dating that makes your thoughts turn so corny?'
The graphic artist suddenly turned back to the conversation- evidently Malik had butted in and had turned the topic to 'fashion'.
Malik sounded haughty as he addressed the 'crime of dull fashion' that Ryou had evidently committed that evening.
"-And I swear, Ryou; if you think wearing 'stripes' with faded jeans is 'daring,' you really need a course in stylish accents. Hmm... I think you should try some accessories- like a bit of bold jewelry."
The pale doctor gave a teasing reply. "But Malik, not all of us need to wear loud, genuine 24-carat gold bracelets."
Malik pouted and showed off his arms. "Hey, these bracelets might be loud, but they're loudly saying, 'this is one classy, sexy man!'"
The other Bakura snorted. "Isn't that false advertising?"
Marik gave the pale artist a wry smirk. "Are you saying that my bronzed love-bug isn't classy and sexy?"
"Actually, I was talking about the 'man' part."
Ryou couldn't help but giggle at that one. Malik gave him an incredulous look.
"Oh, you're one to talk! You get more numbers from straight guys than a supermodel!"
Ryou's face scrunched up slightly as he stuck out his bottom lip. "I certainly do not!"
'Oh gods, he has an adorable pout.' Bakura phased out for a moment as he watched the vivid emerald eyes dance in annoyance.
Ryou folded his arms, unknowingly adding to the irresistible look. "Besides, how do you know they're straight? Maybe they're looking for a boyfriend!"
"Oh, right- that's why most of them start off with, 'Wow, aren't you the woman of my dreams?' or 'You look just like my next girlfriend!'"
Bakura and Marik both snorted while Ryou flushed. Thankfully, the hostess swung by at just that moment to check on their drinks, and the topic changed.
As the evening drew to a close, the group began fixing to settle the tabs. Bakura was reaching for his billfold, and so he failed to notice the two blondes whispering to each other. Marik gave a brief smirk before pulling out his wallet.
"Damn, I hate doing math- anyone know what's a fair tip for these?" He pointed to his empty glasses and held out a bunch of singles.
Ryou quickly did the math in his head. "I think $4.50 would be decent."
"Alright, I'm sure I have some quarters..." The bronzed man began dividing his credit cards as he searched in between them. "Got it! Oops."
One of the quarters clattered to the floor and rolled towards Ryou's seat. It stopped almost perfectly dead-center in front of the physician.
"Sorry Ryou- could you put that on the table for me?"
"Of course, Marik." Ryou dived down to pick up the coin.
Bakura's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull when he saw the other pale diner bending over to retrieve the money.
He wasn't one for nature watching; but damn, he was enjoying this view.
Alas, his visions of naturism were soon interrupted by the annoying sound of their waitress returning.
"Are you guys all set? Thank you for visiting Bar 451- we hope you'll try our Fireman's Burger-Blowout next time!"
Bakura snarled under his breath as the group made their way towards the front door.
He was glad he hadn't left her a tip.
"G'night Ryou! Bakura!" Marik called out a farewell as he slid into the driver's seat of his Camry.
"Take care, you guys!" Malik waved at the white-haired pair as he ducked into his boyfriend's car. Ryou's eyes widened, and he made to yell out something in response. But the two bronzed boys were already speeding away. Instead, he stood on the sidewalk, his mouth still open in disbelief.
Bakura recognized that look. "So I'm guessing Marik drove you here?"
Ryou nodded with a frustrated sigh. "I wouldn't mind, except this bar isn't exactly close to my place."
"I'll take you home. If you like." Bakura struggled to keep his voice casual, but his cheeks darkened as he watched for a response.
"Really? You're sure it's not a bother?"
'To spend more time with you? Are you kidding?' "It's fine- you don't live in Shikoku or anything, right?" Bakura unlocked the only red car in the parking lot- an aging Acura.
The shorter boy laughed. "No, no- I'm only in Honshita, by Gajou Park."
"What, and that's too far to walk at one in the morning?" Bakura grinned- he knew there was likely a good ten or fifteen miles between the two places.
"Well, pardon me, but we can't all have a physique like an athlete." The other boy teased as he slid into the passenger's seat and shut the door.
Bakura swallowed at the compliment and fumbled with his keys for a moment before he managed to get into the driver's side.
The ride was (unfortunately) short, but it seemed even shorter to the conversing pair. Their playful banter barely quieted until the car glided next to the curb.
A modest, two-story home sat at the end of a short walk. The white siding and pale-blue door were pleasantly inviting.
"I'll see you to the door." Bakura offered as the passenger undid his seatbelt. Ryou nodded before stepping onto the walkway, the pale driver not far behind.
"Well, we might have both been roped in under false pretenses," Ryou smiled, "but I did have a wonderful time this evening."
"Yeah... sorry again about your shirt."
"Don't worry about it. Honestly, for an unplanned evening with the candy duo, this isn't bad." Ryou gestured to the long-dried top.
"Candy duo?" Bakura blinked as they stepped onto the front steps.
Ryou laughed. "My nickname for the two chocolate-colored sugar-bombs- Malik and Marik? M and M?"
Bakura snorted. "Clever."
There was a moment of silence as the two stood in front of the cloud-blue door. Ryou gazed downward at the white concrete stoop. The pale bridge of his button nose was lightly flushed.
"Um, I wasn't just showing off or anything when I gave you my card... I really would like to see you again sometime." He gulped and looked up nervously. "Erm, that is, if you would want to, I mean!"
The artist's deep voice was unusually soft as he replied in earnest.
"I would."
Bakura carefully placed one hand on the other's fair neck. He used the other hand to gently brush the white bangs across Ryou's cheek. He stared into those brilliant green eyes, asking for permission. Ryou's bright flush grew, and the shorter male tilted his head in acceptance.
Bakura grinned and pressed his own lips to the velvety pair waiting below. He was greeted with a hum of approval; and two warm, petals of rosy skin eagerly melded with his own.
They continued embracing and trading light, sweet kisses for ages.
Bakura finally broke the silence.
"Would you, uh, like me to come in?" He spoke smoothly and deeply before he nibbled on the soft shell of Ryou's ear.
"Mmm... not yet."
Bakura stopped in surprise. He thought they'd been getting along well enough...?
Ryou smiled and gave him a tender kiss. "I like to take things slow." He explained honestly. His face suddenly turned sideways in a bout of shyness. "Besides... I would really like to see you again... and not just tonight..."
"So... you'd go out with me, again?" Bakura's ears perked up optimistically.
Ryou nodded eagerly, his face fully flushed as he smiled. "Besides, -you're forgetting something." The white-haired doctor winked, clearly flirting. "We still haven't gotten your test results back yet!" He smiled and gave his 'unofficial' date one last kiss on the cheek before heading inside.
After the light-blue door closed, Bakura felt that goofy grin show up on his face again. He could definitely picture them spending another evening out- without the two blonde-haired nitwits, of course...
But suddenly the door opened again; just enough so that he could see Ryou's foxy expression.
"Oh, by the way..." Ryou was wearing a devious grin that Bakura didn't quite expect, "I asked Marik to drop that quarter."
Bakura's mouth dropped open as the other lightly giggled.
"G'night 'Kura." Ryou closed the door a second time.
Bakura just stood there, flabbergasted.
Bloody hell, he could not wait for next time.