Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Distractions	By : Crux Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1714 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, or the characters involved. This story is non-profit.

Chapter List
- 1-Distractions
- 2-Chapter 2
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- 2
I'm drowning. I swallow the frothing, dark green poison, desperately gasping for air, as a demon, angry and ruthless, attempts to pull me under to my death. The waves crash over me, the current strong and persistent. With each blow, I'm pulled ever deeper into the dark depths embracing me. My strength has dissipated; I know that I cannot struggle much more and I will sink to my watery grave. Far off, a sound, unfamiliar and quickly forgotten. The demon pulls me back, laughing, malevolent. A series of odd clamouring brings me to awareness. I gasp, realizing my dream, and attempt to force my eyes open, struggling to keep the tendrils of sleep from pulling me back into the depths. My mind is a haze, I feel suffocated. I cannot move my body, and I'm sent into a panic when I hear another crash and glass shattering. I gasp for breath, my heart beating out of control. Ultimately, I pull myself from my paralysis, sitting up straight in bed. The feeling of dread is overwhelming.
I sit completely silent with bated breath, listening for more cacophonous noise within the house. After moments of peace, the only sound heard is a shouted curse and footsteps. Confused and still in a stupor from my dream, I place my head in my hands. I can't think over the sound of my ears ringing and I have a splitting headache.
I throw my legs over the bed, searching around for the clothing I had discarded only a few hours ago. They are in a pile on the floor, boxers and old t-shirt. Clumsily, and with weak knees, I stand to my feet. I grab the T-shirt, and opt for a clean pair of boxers. Standing abruptly when another crash is heard, I double over in nausea, wave after wave of dizziness washing over me.
When righted, I stumble towards my dresser, grabbing clean boxers before hobbling to the bathroom, the feeling of nausea growing stronger. Dazed, I fall to my knees to heave in front of the toilet. With deep breaths, I attempt to control my breathing, trying desperately not to vomit. This damnable headache.
After a few gags, but no vomiting, I decide it's time to try again. When I reach the stairs, I lean heavily on the banister and slowly tread the steps. The house is dark, except for the light shining through the open blinds; the orange street lights giving everything it touches an eerie glow. Carefully maneuvering around furniture, I begin my trek to the kitchen, where Bakura's perpetual cursing stemmed.
"Bakura? Are you alright?" I ask, faltering slightly. I can see his silhouette, and little else. Stepping inside the kitchen, I step on a sharp piece of glass, I yelp and reach out for something to grab as I lose my balance. Bakura catches me before I fall, flipping on the light switch once I'm righted. Now I can fully see the destruction of our kitchen, dishes shattered over the floor, pots and pans scattered throughout. My sickness returns full force.
"Ryou." Bakura's face looks like death, pale and with bloodshot eyes. A dark bruise shines under his right eye. Suddenly, he grabs me, hugging tight. Hesitant, I return his hug, wrapping my arms lightly around his back. Odd. Very odd, especially considering his obvious anger and the destruction of the kitchen.
"Bakura, what's going on?" I release my hold on him, and he grabs me even tighter, almost squeezing the air from my lungs. He smells of alcohol and sweat. Fear grips me and I realize something is very wrong. When he loosens his grip, I stand stock still, waiting for his next move, instinctively bracing myself.
"Ryou, tell me right now. What the hell happened tonight?" he speaks quietly, but I know he is holding back rage. With every second that I don't answer, Bakura's anger builds. I shake my head, confused. I don't have a clue what he's talking about, and when I try to speak to say so, he cuts me off. "What the fuck happened between you and Marik?"
I wince, and step back, away from his shaking form. He lunges forward and grabs my shirt again as I take another step, halting me. "YOU BETTER FUCKING SAY SOMETHING RIGHT NOW!"
"Stop! Please!" I cry out, scared now. His warm breath, thick with the stale smell of alcohol, lingers in the air. "I don't know what you're talking about!" I flinch, fearing he will strike me. His face twists in disgust from my reaction, the lines on his forehead turned downward into a scowl.
"Don't give me that. You know exactly what I'm talking about. NOW TELL ME THE GODDAMN TRUTH!" With each word, he takes another step towards me as I retreat. When my back hits the door frame, I slip down to the floor. With shame, I hide my face, holding back a sob.
The night is silent once more, though the air has become heavy and suffocating. I can feel Bakura's scrutinizing stare as he stands over me, awaiting my reply. His questions aren't making sense to my fuddled mind, still wary from my nightmare only minutes ago. I have no answer for him; nothing I have done could warrant his actions.
"You don't know, do you." There is resignation in his voice, and I can't bring myself to lift my head to look at him. He kneels to my level and cold, slim fingers grasp my chin, forcefully drawing my eyes to his. I stupidly squeeze them shut in fear and defiance. Bakura slaps me harshly, the force of his hand whipping my head to the side. Hot needles pierce my skin where he made contact, and tears prick at my eyes.
I take a minute to compose myself before I hesitantly turn to face him. He is significantly calmer though there is still anger storming in his puce colored eyes. My nerves are shot; my entire body shakes and my mind has become numb. I lay my head on my knees and turn away one more, afraid to speak.
"Ryou, I'm sorry." He sighs, and despite his anger, he is sincere with his apology. "I'll explain." Grabbing me by the armpits, he lifts me to my feet and walks me away from the shattered remains and out of the kitchen to the small sofa in the next room. His hands are gentle, contradictory to his previous bout of anger. He takes a seat in the recliner next to me, turning on the lamp placed on the end table between us.
"As you know, I was out with Malik tonight. We were bar hopping, and happened to stumble upon Marik in one. He was drunk and babbling like an idiot." For a moment his face became cross and I watch as he slowly brings a hand to his face, rubbing hard circles into his eyes.
I am somber, taking in his words silently. I attempt to piece together the moments I remember of the night to figure out why Marik would have been at a bar, but I decide it isn't worth thinking too hard on. Who knows why Marik does anything?
"He said you had died."
It takes an eternity for me to register what Bakura has said, and when I do I stare at him in shock, feeling the blood rushing to my face, my heart pounding in my chest. I am nauseous again, my saliva thickening in the back of my throat. Neither of us speak. Bakura looks up at me, meeting my wide, disbelieving eyes, sadness and shame reflecting in his own.
That one look set me off and I snap, a sob escaping my strangled throat. My entire world has become blurry and twisted, and I am left lightheaded, numb. I have broken out into a cold sweat, goose bumps prickling my skin. My breath hitches, and I struggle to control my breathing, each shorter and more desperate than the last.
Rushing over to my rocking form, Bakura kneels in front of me, stroking his long fingers through my hair, attempting to calm me. There is a deep look of concern in his eyes, and I try desperately to keep my focus on those eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on desperately as my gasping sobs become full wails. We stay this way for a good while, my crying eventually calming down to sniffles.
"I don't remember a lot that happened last night." It's a quiet mumble, and not exactly what I had in mind to say, but at least it's a start. I bury my face in his hair, so identical to my own. I breathe deeply Bakura's smell, still of sweat and alcohol, the reminder causing another round of crying.
Eventually I run out of tears, wiping the remainder with my soiled fingers as best I can. Bakura gently disentangles himself from my clutching arms, stretching his stiffened muscles.
"We'll continue this conversation in the morning." With a yawn, he offers a hand to lift me up. I gladly agree, grateful for the chance to compose myself with a good rest before having to tackle the discussion once more. Taking his hand, I pull myself to my feet, yawning in return.
"Bakura.." I trail off, a little worried about what he might say. "Did Marik say anything else?" I sound desperate, even to my own ears.
Turning around to face me, he speaks low and seriously. "No, Ryou." He turns swiftly away and walks toward the stairs, not turning back once. "Nothing relevant."
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Distractions