Internal Scars | By : FireWeaver Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2508 -:- 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. |
Author: I wish I could write more often, but you’ll have to
spare me because of second semester, and it’s the KILLER semester X.x.
ra: ra: YES!!!
Author: He’s mean… >< Anyways…I have been slow because
I have been debating about which fic to update…this
one or my other one, Wish You Were Here With Me…
Malik: Update mine!…show
me some love here…
Anyways…please R&R… trying to figure out how to
structure this story…I’m a spontaneous writer so most
things come out at random…
~*~*~*~*~*
Bakura was in tears by the time he re-encountered his moments
with Yami; his sadistic sex tactics, and how when the pe wae was bored that he
would throw him to Seto or even the guards if he was being really bad.
Malik was hushed and quietly he held onto his friend,
knowing no other method to comfort the white haired thief. Bakura has rarely to
never broken down in front of him before…and seeing him so helpless and pained
almost scared Malik.
“Maybe you should finish telling me some other time,” Malik
rubbed Bakura’s back, “You were really really brave
to have put up with it, endured it and still living…I feel bad for ever making
a fuss about my own past.”
“Y-you shouldn’t,” Bakura blubbered, “your past hurt too…”
Bakura would never get to over emotional in front of anyone
but Ryou and Malik; not even Marik has seen him with his walls broken down.
Malik pulled some tissues out of a Kleenex box and handed
them to Bakura, “Fix yourself up, or else Ryou’s going to suspect something and
bombard you with questions…I know you’re not ready to face him with it yet.”
Nodding, the pale boy nodded again and blew his nose into
the tissues offered to him, “Thanks Malik…I really mean it. You can kind of
understand why I’m a little psycho now,” he managed a grin.
Malik smiled back, “You and me both.”
That certainly lightened up the mood and by the time Ryou
came back downstairs again, both were happily chatting, Bakura a lot happier
that he got the load off his chest, somewhat…at least it weighed less now.
“You can take your shower now Bakura!” Ryou chimed into
their conversation, “Malik can help me with dinner.”
Taking his cue Malik got up and followed Ryou to the
kitchen.
Bakura smiled softly to himself and went upstairs.
“Does a really big salad with all the trimmings suit you?”
Ryou looked into the fridge, “We have a lot of salad stuff.”
“Sounds delicious to me,” Marik leaned over Ryou’s hunched
figure to pull out carrots. Carrying the bag over to the sink he emptied its
contents and proceeded to wash them, “just remember…”
“I kno kno know! No meat!” Ryou sighed, “I know you well
enough.”
“Then what’s with that steak you’re pulling out of the
freezer?”
“Oh, this?” Ryou help the frozen
piece of meat, “Bakura always has meat at dinner; he hates it cooked but I do
it anyways. Ruins the flavour, he says.”
Malik laughed, “That’s Bakura for you. Once in an alley he
was so hungry he killed a rat and ate it on spot.”
Ryou gagged, “What?!?! That’s disgusting! He never told me
that!”
“Because you’d never kiss him again if he did!” Malik and
Ryou laughed at the comment but Malik felt a jab when he said it. He would have
still kissed Bakura anyways…
“As long as he washed his mouth,” Ryou set the steak on a
tray, then into the oven to heat. When he looked up his eyes suddly grew extremely concerned “You alright?”
“H-huh?” Malik looked down to see
him slicing away absentmindedly at his finger, totally missing the carrot he
was holding in his hand, “Holy shit!”
Rushing to his aid the white haired hikari turned on a rush
of cold water which deposited itself over Malik’s torn finger, “You didn’t even
flinch! You must have sawed a good chunk of flesh off!”
The coldness numbed the pain. As Malik watched blood run
down the drain he asked, “Does Bakura…ever…mention…” he trailed off.
Ryou looked confused, “Mention what?” Malik rarely lost his
boldness.
“Me…if I was a good friend…or lover or something…I have told
him…about…my…you know…”
Baffled by the question, Ryou remained silent. Turning off
the faucet he quietly lead Malik to the table and bandaged his finger, “He…”
gazing up at Malik’s desperate look for an answer, he replied, “He did say you
looked like a good kisser and look hot.”
“Really?” He didn’t mean to sound
as enthusiastic as it did, but it sounded like that anyways.
Ryou backed off, “I’ll finish dinner…” he whispered and
left.
Malik felt really stupid; that was so obvious. Ryou must be
on to him now. Will the little hikari trust him with his yami now?
Bakura relinquished the hot water sliding off his back while
he worked dirt from his hair.
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