Saturday in the Park | By : Evilpyecat Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2237 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor do I make any profit off of it. I only own this story. |
A.N.- I had to take a few days to research what park I was gonna have the pairs meet up at, and I found the perfect location. Also, I had to find their cars and their music for their radios. I want to write a fic that you can practically see in your mind, like I do. So, here’s Chapter 3.
Last Chapter: ‘Kura and Ryou had ………uhm…….happy-fun-time! Then, Ryou remembers their plans, and starts rushing his yami and hisself to get ready. Now, let’s get them to the park!!! Pairings: Marik/Malik (they will have some fun this chapter……..yay!) Bakura/Ryou (already had some, they will have more later……) DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the following: YU-GI-OH! (its probably a good thing I don’t, knowing my mind…….), Chevrolet, Pontiac, or the following songs. They are owned by the companies listed along with the copyrights. U HEAR ME?! I DON’T OWN NOTHIN’!!! NOTHIN’ BUT DA STORY!!! “Planet Earth”- Duran Duran, 1980, EMI Music (Nice song, but there’s better) “Breaking the Law”- Judas Priest, 1980, Sony BMG Music (awesome, and fits where I put it) If I did own any of this, I would be one rich mutha. “blah”-speech ‘blah’-thinking //blah//-mind link from yami to hikari /blah/-mind link from hikari to yami *blah*-current activity taking place WARNING: Limey goodness in this chapter, beware the citrusness. AND ONCE AGAIN, if you don’t want to read guy-on-guy action, why are you reading this, really? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *On the way to the park…………….with Marik and Malik…………………………* “DOESN’T THE DAMN DIRECTIONS SAY SOMETHING ABOUT A CHESTER STREET!?!” Marik groaned, studying the sheet of paper he held in his hand. Why in the hell didn’t Malik get one of those navigational thingies, what were they called? Oh yeah, Tomtoms! Shit! Finding the line about the street in question, he looked up from his studying, only to see a street sign with “Chester St.” printed on it fly by his vision as his Hikari flew through the residential area on the west side of Domino. “Uh, Hikari-pretty………….” “WHAT?” “You just passed the street.” “SERIOUSLY? YOU’RE FUCKING KIDDING ME, RIGHT?” Marik sunk lower into his seat on the passenger side. “RIGHT!?!” “The street is back that way.” “OH, FUCKIN’ A, MAN, DAMN!!!” Malik immediately swung the car around in a tight u-turn, loosing very little momentum as he flew back down the street the way he had came, the rear end of the car fish-tailing in his haste. ‘Oh, gods above, if you can hear me, PLEASE HELP ME!!!,’ Marik prayed, hoping someone out there would hear his pleas for mercy. Now, Marik didn’t normally pray. He felt no need to, plus in his opinion it was pretty damn stupid to have faith in something that you couldn’t see or hear. He required proof of existence before instilling belief in it. Everyone who did worship some form of god or deity were FOOLS! Haha, dumb bastards! This wasn’t a “normal” situation. And he was properly scared. Malik Ishtar has a problem. A problem that had decided to team up with another one, which needed to be discussed. Now, usually he was a bubbly, happy, if not a little hyper, young man. He loved to joke around, pull pranks on people (no one was safe!), rough house with anyone who was game for it (usually Marik, sometimes Yugi or Joey, rarely Ryou, no one else could stand the exuberant Egyptian), and always seemed to know just what to say when someone needed to be cheered up. He was always the first to jump up and help someone, sometimes having a hissy fit if someone beat him to the punch. Rarely did the crazy side of him show, very rarely. He always held it in check. Yes, Malik was a bouncy one. Compared to his psychotic/paranoid/delusional/homicidal/devil-may-care Yami, he was the perfect example of being the other half of the other’s soul. However, that raised a certain point, something people seemed to let slip their minds a little too easily when it came to the make-up of the Yami/Hikari relationship. For example, Marik and Malik were two halves of a whole, where one showed dominantly dark traits, while the other showed light traits accordingly. DOMINANTLY being the key word here. That meant MOST of the time. And in the rest of the time that isn’t accounted for, well, things happened to the two halves, making one seem more like the other, maybe too much like the other. No, scratch that. It was more along the lines of being EXACTLY like the other, plus some. God help those who are caught in the cross hairs of a Hikari who has had a swing in their personality, doing a emotional 180 in a heartbeat, oh yes. God help them all. Now, the reader must understand that this only happens in extremely stressful situations, in the face of danger, or faced with a task that is frustratingly difficult for the Hikari as an individual to complete. Unfortunately for Marik, possibly the most crazy ass person in existence at the moment, all three of these situations had cropped up at once. They were gonna be late for the meet up time at their destination for the day, which had his sweet light in a complete panicked state, not wanting to make his fellow Hikari, Ryou, and Ryou’s very impatient, very moody, EXTREMELY DEADLY, and all-round asshole of a Yami wait for them to get there ( these are the first and second situations mentioned above, stressful and dangerous for obvious reasons, obviously). Now, the third was a personal problem for the light one. Malik’s reading skills were O.K. at best when presented with his native language. Japanese was still a really rough ride for him. What made things really bad was the fact that the area they were in happened to have every single street sign written in English. Yup, English. Fucking English. A language that the Native Egyptian-turned-Japanese citizen couldn’t speak, write, or barely read. This made navigating the neighborhood he was currently speeding through at 30 miles over the limit a little difficult to accomplish. Of course, MARIK could read it a little, having had more time to sit down in front of the boob-tube and study the American and British programs that played every day at specific times. He had wanted to learn all the cuss words possible in all the languages possible, thus having made it a habit of trying to pick up a little of the language. He could match the letters he had memorized up to the printed word to make a connection, at least. That was why he was in charge of the directions currently. But, no one ever said Marik was a quick thinker, or that he was in any way smart. Anyone can learn by repetition. In other words, Malik’s only source for translating the characters on the street signs was very slow in getting the task done, resulting in driving in circles (thus the third situation mentioned earlier having poked it’s head up). This was not good, oh no, not good at all. The stress of being late, being English-illiterate, and the threat of being tortured, beaten, and quite possibly murdered by the white-haired former thief known as Bakura had taken its toll on the poor Hikari quickly. Why hadn’t they gassed up the car the night before? Why couldn’t his dumbass shit-for-brains dark keep track of his shoes and Rod? Why did he even decide to do this? But, he was determined to make it there on time by the agreed-upon time, and by the gods, he was gonna do it! The problem that has yet to be named had reared up and made itself known at the gas station, where Malik had determined that they were gonna be at least 20 minutes late, if not longer. It would take 30-40 minutes to get to the park from their current location, and it was already 8:41 a.m. by his watch. Realizing this fact, and all the other problems mentioned in earlier paragraphs above had made the Hikari’s mind do that 180 that is dreaded by all that have witnessed it before. So, throwing a random mix of dollar bills at the cashier in the store as he had drug his poor dark out, screeching at the top of his lungs a mix of ear-splitting curses and threats, Malik had leapt into his seat via the passenger side door, dragging Marik in behind him. Cranking the car, and throwing the poor machine into gear viciously, he had burned rubber out of the parking lot and half way down the block to the first stop sign, roaring at the passing cars and the one in front of him, and I quote, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY, YOU COCK SUCKING CUNTS!!” 10 minutes later, and they had barely made any progress. “MARIK!!! WHICH WAY AM I FUCKING GOING, WHICH WAY!?!” “HERE, TURN HERE, DAMMIT!” Marik was really getting scared now, starting to yell himself. “WHAT’S NEXT? WHAT’S NEXT!?! HURRY THE FUCK UP!!!” At this moment, a car pulled out in front of them, being driven by the world’s oldest driver ever to have existed. Malik layed on the horn, and snatched the car around the other, leaning over his passenger to flip the shriveled old bastard the bird. “SIT AND SPIN, BITCH!” Marik would have laughed at the expression on the old crotches face, but he was currently focusing on keeping his ass planted on his side of the car and trying to play navigator at the same time. Suddenly, a stop sign appeared. Oh, gods, no. “FUCK IIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!” They barreled through the intersection as Malik screamed, narrowly missing being hit by a Propane truck. The man driving the truck slammed on the brakes to keep from smashing into the purple metal blur that flew in front of him, resulting in getting slammed in the rear by a recreational activity bus full of Nuns following too close behind it. The valves on the back of the truck were knocked off, and Propane began to spray in the air. Moments later, a fire roared to life under the now smashed hood of the bus. Almost immediately following the fire, as the screams of the Nuns and the truck driver rang out in the morning air, an explosion of mass proportions blew the bus, the truck, and the surrounding houses into smithereens. The houses that were not immediately impacted by the blast were ablaze minutes later as burning shrapnel and wood rained down on their roofs. The car flying like a bat out of hell never even flashed it’s brake lights, the driver not even acknowledging the sonic boom behind him. The passenger, however, had noticed, and watched over the backseat, mouth agape, as a rain of gas-fueled flames began to quickly engulf the intersection they had just raced through, tires barely touching the asphault. “GODSDAMMIT, MARIK!!! PAY ATTENTION TO THE FUCKING DIRECTIONS, YOU BASTARD!!!” Cringing in his seat, Marik turned around and went back to trying to decipher street signs, the car reaching even higher speeds as it roared down the street. “O.K., uh, the next street is, uhm, P-A-R-K-V-…………” “WHO FUCKING CARES WHAT THE NAME OF THE MOTHERFUCKIN’ STREET IS!?” “But, Hikari-pretty, I have to………..” “WHICH ONE IS IT, YOU DICK?!” “Malik, please…………………” “SHUTUPANDTELLMEWHERETOTURNASSWIPE!!!” Whimpering, Marik complied with his light’s wishes, and they continued to make their way towards their destination. What was said light’s problem, you ask? Well, can anyone say “Road Rage”? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *On the way to the park…………..with Bakura and Ryou…………………….* “I’m starving, dammit. Pull over at that shit hole up there so I can grab a bite.” “Can’t you wait until we get to the park, ‘Kura?” “HELL NO, I CAN’T WAIT! Stop there, now!!!” This was said as the Diablo Red muscle car growled past the “shit hole” that Bakura had indicated. Bakura turned and glared at his light, who was currently focusing on navigating the traffic on the 6-way street, trying to get through downtown Domino without mishap. “Answer me something, love.” Ryou winced, knowing by the sound of his voice that his dark wasn’t very happy at the moment. “Yes, ‘Kura.” “What fucking part of “Stop there now” didn’t you fucking understand?” The Hikari sighed. “Please don’t get into a funk this morning. We’re already late for the park, and the last thing I need is you getting all moody on me.” Oh, HELL NO! He did NOT just say that to him, Bakura, former ruler of Hell, former thief king, self-appointed asskicker of that scrawny little shit pharaoh, and current overlord of his and his light’s home, car, relationship, and anything else involving himself, his Hikari, and everything inbetween. “Moody?” ‘Uh-oh’, thought Ryou. “Me, moody?” ‘ShitshitshitSHIT!,’ squeaked the little voice screaming in Ryou’s head. “No, oh, no, my lovely one, I’m not moody at all. In fact, I’m feeling fan-fucking-tastic right now. Cloud nine, duckies and bunnies, all that good shit, ya know?” Bakura’s voice was a parody of cheerfulness, even taking on a slight british accent, obviously mimicking his light. Ryou gulped noisily, eyes big as dinner plates, hands shaking on the wheel that he was currently steering, coming up on even more traffic. Explosion in 3…..2…..1…………. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, DON’T GET ALL MOODY?! YOU HAVE ME OUT BEFORE NOON, ON A SATURDAY, ON THE WAY TO BUM-FUCK EGYPT TO GO LOOK AT SOME GODSDAMMED TREES, AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO BITCH AT ME FOR BEING “MOODY?” “’Kura, please………” “I’M HUNGRY! I WANT FOOD, AND I WANT IT NOW, RIGHT NOW!” As the famished dark continued his temper tantrum, something that he had said (or roared,whichever you prefer) caught Ryou’s attention. Trying, and barely succeeding to keep a straight face, he attempted to get his lover’s attention. “Kura.” “IT ISN’T FAIR! WHY CAN’T I GO TO THE POOLHALL AND HUSTLE SOME GREEN FROM SOMEONE!” “Bakura.” “CAN’T THIS WAIT UNTIL AFTER I STOMP THE PHARAOH’S ASS STRAIGHT DOWN TO HELL?” “Hey.” “AND FURTHERMORE, FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I ALSO-“ “BAKURA!!!” The one named stopped and glared daggers at his light, who was unfazed at the moment, fighting to keep control of his facial features. “WHAT THE FUCK U WANT, BITCH?!” Ryou, still unfazed by the insult, asked his question, barely keeping it together. “Bum-Fuck Egypt?” “Huh?” The puzzled look he caught on his Yami’s face combined with the weird phrase was too much for the poor Hikari, and he began to giggle, the mask he had forced on his face crumbling. Bakura was confused. Bum-Fuck what? “What in the hell did you say?” He quiered. Ryou giggled harder, soft snorts beginning to add themselves in. “WHAT?!” The snorts grew in sound and intensity, the giggling beginning to evolve into laughter. “RYOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU, what did you say?” The dark one whined, curious about his light’s obviously humored state. The whining, and hearing that same voice roar the phrase in his head again did him in. Ryou began to howl with laughter, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes. “Oh, oh, ohDEAR GOD, where did THAT come from?” Bakura was starting to get “moody” again. “WHAT? Where did what come from?” Ryou tried to ask again, gasping for the breath to speak, but it was so funny to him, he couldn’t help himself, and laughed all the harder at him. “WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY, ASSHOLE?” The look on Bakura’s face was a mix of amusement and annoyance. What had he said that was so damn funny to his little one? About that time, the radio announcer cut in on the music that had been playing, an 80’s song by Duran Duran (Ryou’s favorite band of that genre) called “Planet Earth”, with breaking news. “This is your friendly neighborhood DJ, with a report of a tragic accident that has just come in.” “Shh, wonder what’s happened?” Ryou murmured to Bakura. “About 15 minutes ago, around 8:57 a.m., a propane truck exploded after being hit from behind by aWhile AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. 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