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Souvenir	By : MishikoShinsei Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5433 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Disclaimer: Just own the words, not the folks.
The Price - Reprise

For the first time in quite a while, both of us are off work for the next three days. Yami is at home because he took one day off, apparently the first in more than two years and I’m at home because my boss closed the store to take a few days to visit his sick mother in Okinawa.
This morning, we both slept until sometime after noon, shared a slightly less than innocent shower and set about relaxing for the day. For me, that means a book on military history and a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to lounge in Yami’s bed. For Yami, it means an undershirt and sweatpants to sit at his desktop discussing pastries with a few of his online friends.
Tomorrow we are thinking about going on a road trip somewhere or meeting Raphael and his girlfriend for brunch.
I look up from my book at Yami’s third disappointed sigh.
Normally, I don’t bother Yami or read over his shoulder when he’s working on his computer, but I can’t help wondering what’s troubling him.
I put down my book and slip from the bed, stepping up behind him
“What?” I inquire vaguely as I slide my arms around his neck.
“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing,” he dismisses lightly, closing the last three internet windows he’d had open; a place to buy plane tickets, some hotel in France, and a site about what looks to be a cooking contest.
“How about some pastries?” he yawns, standing and stretching out his back.
His default to making pastries as a way of changing the subject is all the evidence I need that whatever is bothering him is definitely more than ‘nothing.’
“Let me finish my chapter and I’ll be down to keep you company,” I intone, assenting to his suggestion.
“Okay,” he smiles, pulling me down for a light kiss before shuffling away downstairs.
After reading the last three paragraphs of the chapter as I said I would, I slip into the chair at his computer. It takes me a couple of tries since I really only got a glance at the site and wasn’t sure of the spelling, but I think I find what Yami was sighing about and why he’d been looking at that hotel in France and plane tickets to get there.
I step into the kitchen a few moments later to Yami’s toneless warble, intent on finding out why he’d been so disappointed earlier. I wait until he’s finished his preparations and the pastries are in the oven before inquiring.
“Yami, what’s the World Pastry Cup?” I question calmly; not that my tone seems to help as he nearly drops the teapot.
“Do you always investigate other people’s web surfing habits?” he retorts coolly.
“Only if the surfing upsets them,” I reply.
“I’m only upset by your invading my privacy,” he snaps.
“Which is why you’re making pastries…” I trail off knowingly.
“Seto…”
“Were you planning to go there and now you can’t? Is that why you’re upset?” I prod.
When he doesn’t respond, I press further. “Yami?”
“The World Pastry Cup or ‘La Coupe du monde de la patisserie’ as it’s known by most chefs, is the greatest pastry making contest in the world,” he explains a few moments later. “I’d planned to attend the event in January in Lyon, France, but…”
“But what?” I push when he doesn’t continue.
He frowns and presses his lips together before turning away.
Barely a second later understanding assails me.
“You spent that money on me,” I conclude.
His silence confirms my suspicion.
Having nothing to say that could improve the situation I leave Yami in his haven and go up to my room.
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After a very early light breakfast, we hop in Yami’s car and head out.
“I just thought we’d go for a drive; maybe do a little sightseeing,” is all the explanation Yami gave when he woke me this morning.
I’m a little tired because I didn’t sleep much last night, but I’ll do my best to stay awake for whatever he’s got planned.
Last night, I’d only been gone from the kitchen about five minutes before Yami followed me up to my room and brought me back down with him for tea and conversation.
He’d wanted to assure me that he held no resentment over having used much of his trip money to take care of my needs.
“I’ll be able to go the next time, so don’t worry,” he’d smiled at me.
We’d then devoured the pastries and downed a pot of tea before heading upstairs to his bed to cuddle and play a little before curling together for a light nap. Upon waking, we’d returned to our relaxing ventures of my reading and him enjoying time on his computer.
Later we’d shared a light dinner and another less than innocent shower before settling down for the night. Yami had talked a little more about the World Pastry Cup before drifting off into a sound sleep in my arms.
After Yami had gone to sleep I lay there another 30 minutes or so before slipping out of his bed and off to my room. Using my laptop, I’d tried to find out how much it would cost for Yami to travel to the World Pastry Cup and attend all three days; my plan to simply figure out how I could afford to help him do so. Unfortunately, even using all of the money that I’ve saved, I couldn’t see how my help would make much difference.
Last night, I’d considered using the money I’d saved for prep school instead, but a brief research into those costs showed me that I’d only have enough to get started and that I couldn’t possibly afford to continue attending classes.
That realization had kept me up for most of the night, even while snuggled back in Yami’s warm embrace in his completely comfortable bed.
Stifling yet another loud yawn, I glance over at Yami cheerfully driving as he hums along to the radio.
Even though my savings won’t put much of a dent in the amount of money he’ll need for the trip, I’ll offer it anyway. Maybe with what he already has, it will be close to enough that he could ask Raphael for the rest.
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I don’t remember nodding off, but I awaken to Yami’s polite nudge just as we pull up to the biggest building I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s easily several blocks long and I can’t even imagine how wide! In front of the immense structure a large sign beckons with “Welcome to the Sheraton Seagaia Resort and Ocean Dome! Please enjoy your stay!”
“Yami, I thought we were just going for a drive to someplace nice; not to a resort!” I exclaim.
“It’s not as bad as you think, Seto,” he grins at me. “Admission to Ocean Dome is only a couple thousand yen and do you really think I’d have to pay for a hotel room?”
I’m sure I’m gaping like a fish as I practically stumble along behind Yami into the huge structure.
Somewhere between the white marble sand “beach” and the realistic volcano erupting every 15 minutes or so, the thousands of people running around in and out of the water and the waves constantly crashing beautifully against the “shore,” I forget that it’s all a man-made fantasy and find myself enjoying our time “at the beach.”
We spend the entire day playing and splashing, taking breaks to lie out in the “sun” and to eat a few bites here and there before heading to our room at the adjoining Sheraton Hotel. Following a shared shower where we actually just wash and dry each other, we cuddle together in the soft, king-sized bed and go to sleep.
After an early morning romp in bed, accented by a follow-up performance in the shower, we order breakfast and relax some more until we check out at 1:00 in the afternoon. As Yami drives us back home, we animatedly expound on our trip with each other.
Yami unexpectedly interrupts one of my moments of excited chatter with a quietly reverent, “I’m really glad to see you so happy, Seto.”
“So am I, Yami,” I reply just as quietly.
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“What’s this?” Yami asks as I hand him the envelope containing Y152,000 of my savings to him as we get ready for bed.
After Yami’s generosity of the resort trip, I’d become even more certain of my decision to give him what money I could to help him get to the World Pastry Cup. We’d both gone back to work this afternoon and during my lunch hour, I’d pulled all but the minimum Y5,000 from my bank account.
“It’s not much,” I offer. “But it should still help toward your trip.”
“My trip?” Yami wrinkles his brow at me. “What trip, Seto?”
“To the World Pastry Cup.”
His eyes widen in surprise before he opens the envelope and sees what I’ve given him.
“Seto, I can’t…”
“You’re always doing something for me, Yami,” I interrupt. “It’s past time that I do something for you.”
Suspiciously misty eyes lock with mine a moment before he looks down and away, nodding quickly in agreement.
“Thank you, Seto,” he chokes.
Taking the envelope from his lightly trembling hands, I place it on the dresser nearby before straddling his lap on the edge of the bed.
“Seto,” he whispers against my chest.
Lifting his face from my torso, I lean down to brush a kiss against his lips. Moments later I am sprawled on his bed, pinned by his possessive and passionate kisses.
Later, after surfacing from our post coital haze, he tells me that my gift is just enough for his round trip air fair and daily incidentals while in France, which is all that he needed as the rest had been taken care of through other chefs he knew and pre-payments.
I smile into his chest and hold him tighter against me.
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I awaken to the comfortable warmth of Yami’s arms and a pleasant ache in my well-loved body. Basking in his embrace a little while longer, I allow myself to remember every time with him over the last few weeks. At first, we’d been all over each other several times a day. I even took him a couple of times, which I definitely want to do again. We’d then slowed to our current pace of three of four times a week after Yami slept through half of his shift one day.
Admittedly, I want him more than I have him now, but it’s better for both of us if we’re more responsible. And I must admit that I like not having to disguise the aches such vigorous activity had given me.
Lifting away from him a bit, I take a few moments to study Yami’s contented face beneath me.
Barely a year ago I could never have imagined…
“Well, that’s different,” Yami startles me with a sleepy mumble. “Staring me awake. Maybe I’ll try that on you sometime.”
“I wasn’t staring,” I quickly look away.
How can he always make me feel so self-conscious?
Well, not always…Quite often he makes me feel…
“Your skin is flushed. What are you thinking about?” Yami murmurs, pulling me tight against him and nibbling on the right side of my neck.
“N-nothing,” I stammer, trying to pull away.
“Hmm. Well let’s see if I can give you something to think about,” he nuzzles into my chest, his hands sliding slowly down my body.
It’s already after 2:00 in the afternoon and if I don’t stop him now, he’ll definitely be late for this evening’s shift. Besides, as much as I wouldn’t mind another round…
“We can’t, Yami,” I reluctantly squirm away.
“Sore?” he frowns at me.
“Yami…” I start to placate.
“Mmm. I’m not,” he intones, tossing away the covers and laying flat on his back, arms falling lazily on either side of his head.
The sight of his slim body sprawled invitingly in front of me silences all of my protests.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Souvenir