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Seasonal	By : Wilson Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > General Views: 1519 -:- 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
- 1-Seasonal
- 1
A/N: Here's part one of a "two-shot" fic. It's written for procrastination purposes, as I *should*
be finishing a different fic. ;p
DISCLAIMER: all characters belong to Kazuke Takahashi.

Seasonal: Chapter One

August was a humid, sultry month. Clothing hung like limp, wet rags on sweaty
pedestrians. Passing cars were met with resentful glares; the drivers didn't notice, and continued
on their way, moving through the heat in air-conditioned vehicles.
The sea stretched out from a gritty beach clogged with people desperate to find relief.
Warm, salty mist lifted up from the waves and rolled slowly across Ryou's form. He didn't offer
even a small reaction to it, some part of him loving the summer heat. Certainly the part of him
that was like his father, the Great Egyptologist who dreamt of sun-baked rocks.
"...Ryou! Bakura!" An accented, though clearly irritated, voice trailed into his thoughts.
He turned to find Malik Ishtar running to him; running, in this heat, to the surprised and
almost mocking expressions of passersby.
"Hello, Malik."
"What are you doing all the way out here?" Hardly a glisten of sweat could be seen on
Malik's face. But of course; he was even more in love with the heat than Ryou's father. 'Child
of the Sun' indeed.
"I was out for a walk. What about you?"
Malik pointed to a row of gray buildings. "We moved into those apartments. We just
finished arranging our things, and I wanted to see the neighborhood."
"What do you think so far, then? Do you like it?"
"Yes. We're close to a lot of shops; Isis likes that. The ocean's right outside, which
is...pretty."
"Does that mean that you're going to stay here? In Domino?"
Malik nodded slowly, eyes downcast and inexplicably cloudy. "For now."
Not sure if he should say anything at all, Ryou offered, "I'm glad, Malik. You can...can
start over."
There was an uncomfortable minute where Malik simply stared at Ryou, a nameless
expression touching his features. But the moment passed and Malik smiled. "Do you want to
come see where we're living? In case you ever want to visit?"
"Sure, Malik!" Ryou answered, giving him as cheerful and reassuring a smile as he could.
It made Malik laugh.
***
The walls were blank, except for two pictures of landscapes, and they were a strange off-white color. Scuff marks showed darkly through the top (and obviously freshest) layer of paint,
evidence that the landlord had been careless and not bothered to wash the walls before painting.
A ragged couch was parked in front of a television; a small, scarred table was in the little
alcove that passed for a dining room, with three mismatched chairs tucked into place around itEmptEmpty moving boxes were stacked near the door, waiting to be discarded of.
"Living room, kitchen," Malik gestured. "Back in that hall is my room, Isis's room, and
Rishid's room. And the bathroom." He smiled vaguely. "Not much to see. But we have air
conditioning."
"It's nice," Ryou said, and he meant it. Is a s a bit cramped, but even through the lack of
"nicknacks" he could see traces of each of the Ishtars here. "I like it."
"Thanks. Isis would be glad to hear it." Malik made his way to the corridor-kitchen. "Do
you want something to drink?"
"Yes. Thank you."
He heard Malik laugh scornfully. "You don't have to be so formal, Ryou."
"Sorry."
Malik gave him an odd look before disappearing completely from view. He returned a
moment later with two cups of water, with ice cubes bobbing near the rims of the cups. After
handing them to Ryou, Malik switched on the television and then joined his friend on the sofa.
Ryou had swallowed almost half of his drink by then, but now just stared at the odd show
before them. Multi-colored puppets danced and sang off-key children's rhymes. Not sure why
Malik wasn't changing the channel, he turned to see the Egyptian studying this ridiculous display
with all the confusion of a lost puppy.
"What are they saying?" He asked, not bothering to feel embarrassed by his inability to
understand rapidly-sung Japanese.
"It's a children's rhyme...
**'Monday morning, The King,
The Queen, and the little Prince
Came to my house,
In order to shake claws.'**"
Ryou was cut off when Malik stood up and switched the channel. "I like my rhymes
better."
Ryou watched him return to his seat. "You should teach me some."
"Hn." Malik frowned at the screen, which proudly displayed a man and woman making
love on the beach, surrounded by syrupy music. "Can you imagine where that sand is going?"
Ryou laughed until his sides hurt and his face was brilliant red. Seeing him in a fit of
laughter, Malik chuckled, not really knowing why (the question had been sardonic, not really
humorous). Eventually the slight teen stopped shaking with mirth and just looked back at the
screen.
"You're right. But I think it was supposed to be romantic-" He jumped when he felt
Malik's hand brush his arm.
The Egyptian's tone was mocking, if a bit disinterested. "Oh. That's romance."
"N-no, there are lots of ways, realistic ways, to be romantic." He rubbed at the strange,
trembling sensation where Malik had touched him. Had it even been intentional? Ryou scolded
himself, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed.
Malik, for his part, had drawn his legs up onto the cushions, tucking his feet under his
legs. He kept his face directed at the television; but every now and again, his lavender eyes
shifted to Ryou.
He'd become focused on the plot (or lack thereof) by the time Ryou had mounted enough
courage to place his hand over Malik's, though he was still blushing madly and nearly choking on
his own pounding heart the whole time.
After a moment, smooth, lean fingers wrapped around Ryou's hands and firmly held him
there. Malik's thumb rubbed across the pale knuckles, trying to soothe away the trembling.
Neither looked at the other.
Gradually, Malik pulled Ryou's hand up to his lips so that he could slowly kiss each of
Ryou's slim fingers.
Ryou was breathing hard in an effort to clear his ears of the thrumming sound of his own
pulse. He felt Malik smirk against his skin, and then a warm hand touched the side of his face and
swiftly turned Ryou's face to the Egyptian.
Malik kissed and sucked first at Ryou's upper lip, then the lower, never once releasing his
hold on the pale teen's hand. Fighting through the pinpricks of fear and exhilaration, Ryou
returned the kisses as best he could.
Malik had pulled him up against him, and from there had laid back against the arm of the
sofa.
A tongue pressed against his lower lip and Ryou scarcely recognized his own response to
it; rather than open his mouth, he brought his own tongue against Malik's pushing and stroking,
forcing his way past Malik's lips and then being forced back.
It wasn't terribly hard to breath this way, at first. He felt Malik's breath against his tongue
or against his cheek, and knew that he, too, was alternating breathing through his nose and
mouth. But it was a strange sensation, and he pulled back after a while.
Undeterred, Malik began kissing Ryou's neck, a little bit wetly for the pale boy's liking.
But...but it did feel good....
He chose not to complain and pushed his free hand through Malik's hair, right against the
scalp, enjoying more than the kissing the feel of silky hair threading its way between his fingers.
He was panting, they both were, not so much from lack of breath, but because...it was beginning
to feel as if they were running through a marathon.
Malik moved his hand from the back of Ryou's neck to the small of the other boy's back,
gently but insistently pressing him down. This was accomplished easily, and he rubbed his hips
against Ryou's, the movement instantly mimicked.
Seconds trickled by and the pleasure gave way to discomfort as the clothing became
restrictive, tight, painful at some points.
Ryou protested without any real words and freed his hand from Malik's, having to lean on
one side to unzip himself. After a few seconds of thought he unzipped Malik as well; then he tried
to return to what they'd been doing, but Malik shook his head.
"Take them off," he muttered breathlessly. "Otherwise..."
Ryou sat back to allow Malik some freedom of movement. "Otherwise?"
Offering a grimace, Malik answered, "You could get caught on your zipper."
Ryou's eyes widened and he quickly kicked off his pants. "Is that true?"
"Well, it's never happened to me," Malik grunted, finally able to toss the chafing garment
aside. "But I'm not going to be stupid about it."
That sounded like very reasonable logic to Ryou.
Now clad in boxers (he was glad he hadn't worn white briefs today), he laid back down on
Malik and...wasn't sure what to do. They opted for the same thing at the same time, leaning to
kiss open-mouthed, and their teeth clacked against each other.
Malik grimaced while Ryou pulled back, giggling softly. He kissed Malik (a traditional
no-tongue-just-lips kiss) when the humor wore off. The blond murmured appreciatively at that,
bringing his hands up under the hem of Ryou's shirt.
Their movements sped and rough groans tore past moist, moving, seeking lips. Ryou
gasped as hot, sticky...'stuff' splashed and smeared across the inside of his boxers. Then his ears
reddened and he instinctively tried to pull away, but Malik growled out, "Don't you dare!" and
wrapped his legs around Ryou's waist and ground against the other's damp-clothed hips until he,
too, was satiated.
Ryou had lost his energy at that point and relaxed, lying across Malik's chest. "I've never
done that before...."
Malik, his mind still too hazy to respond, said nothing.

** - I don't know Japanese children's songs. This is the translation of a French one. I didn't
want to use an English one, because...heh, I don't know any of those, either.
Oh...and...if you didn't notice, that was my first uh "citrus" (is it a lime? Lemon? What!?) Scene.
Tell me whatcha think, please? Flames are encouraged, so long as you're able to point out what I
did wrong ^_^
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