first post

There isn't anything particularly different about tonight. Yugi followed Kaiba home again against his better judgement. Maybe he could blame the champagne, but with one sentence, impulsively whispered in the dark while entangled in Kaiba's sheets, Yugi has ruined everything.

"I'm in love with you."

Kaiba goes impossibly still next to him. His heart thuds in his chest, louder than a bass. How could he? How could he, knowing everything they had was tenuous at best? Yugi smiles bitterly to himself and lays out his options in his mind's eye, branching paths like a choice-laden dialogue tree.

He could leave. He could never speak to Kaiba again, quit his job, take over his grandpa's shop, and abandon everything he's worked on; leave Spherium to be forgotten as another game lost to development. He could force himself to forget Kaiba's striking eyes and his quick wit, the unforgiving bite of his voice and the challenge of his matches.

He could apologize. Pretend he said something else, ignore it, and keep this facade going, if only just for a while longer. Yugi's heart can take the hairline fractures, can splinter on and on until it breaks. He could become a shining replica of their lost love, where every crack becomes kintsugi until his entire self turns gold, until nothing of "Yugi" remains.

What, then, would become of him?

Who would care? Nobody wanted Yugi Muto, anyhow.

"-ugi. Are you listening to me?" Cold fingers touch his cheek, and he startles, suddenly registering Kaiba kneeling over him and watching him with concern.

That can't be right. Seto Kaiba doesn't care about Yugi Muto- only the pharaoh. The shadow game rules were clear from the start, and Yugi broke them them moment he said anything about love.

He pushes upright, and Kaiba retreats. "I should head back," Yugi says, feeling faint as he fumbles to get away, somewhere where those piercing blue eyes couldn't get to him anymore. "I need to get home. It's late."

"Yugi, did you hear anything I just said?"

"Yeah," he says distractedly, tugging on his clothes. He has to stop midway through buttoning his shirt, hand coming to clutch at the mattress as he sways. He can't go on like this. He can't. He's tarnishing faster than he can bear and the dialogue tree chokes his throat with every word. "Um, it's alright. I'll go. Sorry. I won't bother you again. I'll clear my office tomorrow- we can shelve Spherium. Yeah, shelve it. Keep all the files, and vault the whole project. I-"

Suddenly, Kaiba's hand snatches his wrist away from his shirt. "Yugi, what are you talking about?" he demands. His hair is sticking up all over the place- Yugi would be tempted to call him cute if not for the near murderous expression on his face.

"Kaiba, let go of me." He hopes the words come out level despite the way his lungs are crushing him.

"Shelve Spherium? After all the development work and money I've put into it? Are you insane?"

"Of course that's what you'd care about," he breathes. Typical- he doesn't know what he expected.

"You're the one who said it! Tell me one good reason why I'd shelve the project of the man who just said he loves me?" Kaiba's grip on his wrist tightens, and Yugi wishes he could melt away into the floor.

"It's the best solution," he says, and he tears his gaze away, unable to bear the heat of Kaiba's wrath. "It's the only solution."

"It is not," he snaps. "Use that brilliant mind of yours and think!"

"Kaiba, you're making no sens-"

"I wouldn't invest a single piece of my life into you if you didn't have any worth to me-"

"As the pharaoh's lookalike-" he interrupts-

"As yourself, Yugi!"

Yugi's head snaps up to look at him. Kaiba's face is flushed, chest heaving. The fog of the shadows are receding, leaving Kaiba- just Kaiba, holding onto Yugi like he's afraid he'll disappear if he lets go.

"Kaiba," he says slowly, hardly daring to hope, "do you mean that?"

"I don't say things I don't mean." He takes a breath. "It took a long time for me to see it. Embarrassingly long. Enough that I'm sure you'd love to make fun of me for it. I should've said something sooner."

"You're saying..."

"You don't need to bother with the act anymore, Yugi." Kaiba makes a frustrated noise. "Just come back here and sit down, and we can talk. It seems like this was overdue if you're going on about vaulting Spherium."

Something long-dormant in Yugi's chest gives a weak flutter. "Okay," he whispers, and Kaiba's shoulders relax as Yugi moves closer again. "Let's talk."

It's snowing outside, and Judai is smiling at him tentatively as snowflakes catch in his eyelashes. He's beautiful, and the chilly air has flushed his cheeks rouge.

"Hey," he says, and not for the first time when it comes to him, Johan is at a loss for words. "Can we come in?"

He moves aside, leaving room for Judai to squeeze past off the porch and into Johan's apartment, and he's still wearing his red school blazer, because of course he is. His hair is shaggier, but he's clean-shaven; Johan doesn't even know if he's capable of growing facial hair. What a stupid thing for him to be thinking about as Judai drops that jacket along with his heavy-duty backpack on the floor beside his shoes, because Judai is in his house, and Johan hasn't seen him in two years.

"Nice place," Judai says, as chipper as ever. "Your style's always been top-notch. Cool, is that Rainbow Dragon? Where'd you cop that?" he asks, pointing at a tapestry hung on the wall.

"Craft fair," Johan says. "Judai-"

"Wow, we'll have to go sometime! That's sick. We're beat, y'know, we walked the whole way here through the snow and it totally sucked. Worth it, though- we really wanted to see you, so-"

"Judai, you're in my house."

"...Yeah? I mean, we sure hope it's your house, it'd be kind of awkward if it were someone else's-"

"Judai," he repeats. "You're in my house."

Judai falters now, eyes flickering with uncertainty as he looks at Johan. "...Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

"...We wanted to see you."

"It's been years since anyone's heard from you and you just show up?" His voice tremors despite himself. Rage? Disbelief? He doesn't know.

Judai takes a step closer. "We missed you," he says softly, earnestly, and Johan wants so desperately to be mad at him but he can't quite manage it- he's never been able to, not with that shy look on Judai's face. "Did you want to see us too?"

He wants to lie and say no. He wants to push Judai and his ever-shifting eyes out of his front door and out of his life. "More than anything," he says, and then Judai's fingers brush his cheek and suddenly Johan can't remember why he even ought to be upset in the first place.

"Good," Judai murmurs, "I'm glad."

His kisses are soft and chilly. Johan's hands trace over the same places that they did back on the hidden cove at Duel Academy, memorized patterns and routines that he thought he'd forget by now. But Johan wouldn't be able to forget someone like Judai even if he wanted to; he knows that now. No, for someone like Judai, that's an impossible request, and he never wants to let go.

-

The next day, just like that, Judai is gone. He didn't even stay for breakfast. Johan half-wonders if he imagined the whole thing. Wanderlust steals even the most potent of lovers, it seems, but Johan made sure to slip a spare key into Judai's pocket before he went.

Just in case Judai's lonely, he tells himself. Just in case.

There's been something weird about Yugi Muto, ever since day one.

For starters, he's always got that inscribed gold box with him. It's freaky- when Jounouchi stares at it for too long, he gets a headache and his vision starts swimming. He's always got it out, playing with the pieces inside, and it pisses him off. If he didn't have that stupid thing on the desk all the time, then maybe Jounouchi could look at him without feeling queasy. He's made it a bit of a silent game- how long can he stand looking at it during lecture before the teacher catches him or he wants to throw up? So far his record is twenty minutes.

Second, he's always been really short. Like a fifth grader, almost. It'd be cute if he were a girl, but he's not. And on top of that, he has this whiny little squeaky voice, as if he were some sort of mouse. If he were a mouse, then he'd be cute. But he's not a mouse nor a girl nor a fifth grader, so by all accounts Yugi Muto shouldn't be cute at all.

Third, his hair is all sorts of colors and sticks up like he's been electrocuted. Jounouchi overheard him say it's natural, but there's just no way that could be true. It's gotta be box dye and hair gel, and he's probably just lying to impress that Mazaki girl who's always hanging around him. That pisses Jounouchi off too- who even lies about something like that? His hair looks plenty stylish and pleasant to touch without making shit up about it.

It's stupid. Who does this Yugi kid think he is, anyway? If a punk like him ever got out into the streets he'd be dead in five seconds flat. Jounouchi can picture it: Hirutani would lay him out, teach him a real good lesson about being a weak little bastard. Those big round eyes of his would be crying for days if he experienced half of what Jounouchi had endured.

Really, Jounouchi's doing him a service by picking on him. Maybe then he'll grow a spine and stop being such a soft little wimp- and besides, Jounouchi's only having a bit of harmless fun. Yugi wouldn't last a day if he knew what real bullying was like- if he knew what happened in that fucking torture pit. It's fun to see what expressions he'll make, hear his high pitchy voice raise like an angry kitten. Especially today, when he made him jump like a kangaroo trying to get his stupid little nausea box back.

Jounouchi rolls over in bed. He can't get that brat's face out of his damn head and it's driving him up the wall. What's with him? He can't figure out what's got him hung up on this one specific guy. Whatever. He shoves his head under his pillow and tries to put it out of his head to fall asleep.

"You're early to rise, I see."

Bakura doesn't look back, his eyes glued to the soft pinks and golds of the horizon as the sun just barely starts its journey to crest. There are soft footsteps on the balcony behind him, and then the presence forms on his left: the pharaoh.

"The habit stayed with me, too," Atem says softly, and he uses their native language that feels soft and familiar to Bakura's ears. Stubbornly, he continues to ignore him. Not for any real reason; that feud ended when they were both revived, found by their other halves, and forced to make amends over crappy fast food. No, this is a matter of pride.

They stand together in silence, and after a minute Atem leans forward to cross his arms on the railing in a mirror of him. "The shadow RPG," he says. "You changed how things were. It didn't go like that at all, the first time."

"I don't know what you mean," Bakura mutters.

"Do you remember? How we were?" He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and he flinches away, on instinct.

"Don't," he hisses. Atem's hand hovers in the air as he looks at him, uncertainly.

"You'd come to find me, every night," he murmurs. "You were going to kill me, that very first time. But you never did."

"Don't," Bakura repeats, but it sounds more like a plea this time. He can't stand it, the way Atem's looking at him with such tenderness. He always looked at him like that, even when Bakura's hands and teeth were stained with blood.

"And then Mahaad caught us, and he was furious and chased you out," he continues. "And you made his life so hard. Remember when you hid his headpiece? He was so distraught about looking presentable that he wouldn't show himself to me until he found it."

"I killed him."

"I know."

Atem holds his gaze, steadily, and Bakura's chest heaves with every breath. "He's dead because I killed him," he says again. "You should hate me. I hated you for so long and you didn't do half of what I've done to you."

"I did," he agrees. "But we've died since then too, and he's safe in Aaru now. He's happy. He said so when I saw him." Atem pauses. "He told me about how you cried, holding him."

"That wasn't- I- he-" Bakura takes a step back as Atem moves closer.

"Bakura," he says, and he flinches again when Atem's fingers cradle his cheek. "He asked me to tell you to forgive yourself."

"How?" His voice trembles, and he can't decide if he wants to lean into that warmth or rear away, if he wants to crumble exactly how he did that first night so long ago, or if he wants to leap over the balcony railing onto the nearest roof and run until his legs give out. "That's not- I don't deserve that."

"You were deserving enough to earn a second life." Atem searches his face, and Bakura hates how fragile he feels, suddenly. "You deserve to have peace in this one. It's been so long for us, Bakura. Rest."

Bakura is falling apart again, and despite the crisp morning air it could've been midnight on a humid Egyptian desert as a keen rips from his throat, and he surges forward to press their lips together like it's the last time he'll ever be allowed to. They press against each other fervently, and Bakura lets his hands curl into Atem's, their fingers slotting together just how he remembers.

He doesn't know how long they stand there locked in an embrace, but when Atem pulls away, Bakura notices absently how much shorter he really is. "It's okay," he says, and he gently presses away wet spots on Bakura's cheeks with his sleeve.

"Is it?" he can't help but ask, feeling like a petulant child.

"We'll try it again," Atem promises. "With no magic or bloodshed."

"We can still keep the games, though? I like Monster World."

This coaxes a laugh from him. "We'll play as many games as you want. Forever."

"Forever," Bakura echoes, and a small smile emerges despite himself. "That sounds nice."

slightly extended version on ao3

Yugi knows somewhere deep in his heart that what they have isn't real. He's aware, but when he's kissing Seto Kaiba at 1AM after sneaking out of yet another corporate party together, it doesn't seem to matter all that much.

It always ends the same, of course: Kaiba wakes up first, and Yugi wakes up to the smell of breakfast. Kaiba cordially invites him to stay and eat as Yugi tugs his jacket on, and he smiles and makes excuses as to why he has to leave. Kaiba isn't unkind to him.

No, that's not what the problem is. The falsehood lies in that "Yugi" is the name on Kaiba's lips, but that's only because that's the name he's used to.

Atem vanished seven years ago, and Yugi would say that he's fine with it. It's been long enough that he's okay now, he'd say. He's accepted it, and he's moved on. Kaiba would claim much the same, but when they're together there's an unspoken rule lingering in the air. They don't talk about it. That's the condition of this shadow game.

So they leave the lights off at night, and Yugi gels his bangs up and lowers his voice to a smooth, rich cadence. It was always his voice, after all- anything Atem did with it was within Yugi's capacity. He chooses not to most of the time, even when it'd be more comfortable on his vocal chords. It's easier not to think about it in the throes of passion, and so that's what Yugi does, and he's fine with it. As long as it's all fake, he's okay with it.

It's better than being alone, he tells himself when missing his friends becomes too much. Anzu has a thriving career in America now, and the time difference often means it's too early to call. Jonouchi is much the same- he's been travelling the dueling circuit, and it seems lately that he's in a different country every time they speak.

Kaiba's just being kind, he tells himself as he buttons up his shirt and washes the gel out of his bangs and doesn't look in the mirror until they hang comfortably in front of his face again. He's taking pity on Yugi, poor lonely Yugi, and isn't that kindness?

He can't quite convince himself of that today, not after the 10 pages of redlines on his Spherium product plans make their presence known on his work desk, scrawled in Kaiba's looping handwriting.

It'll all be worth it. Someday, when it's successful, it'll be worth it. Yugi inhales and breathes deeply, picking up the first page. One day Kaiba will see him, and him alone. Until then, he'll be fine with the way things are.

Yugi cries himself to sleep that night, the night before the Battle City finals. Yami doesn't look, not at first. He can sense it, even with his back turned, but Yugi doesn't know that. Yami hasn't told him about that detail. He can't tell him something like that, because if Yugi knew then he'd clam up even more than he has already.

It's only once his breathing evens out that Yami dares to glance back at him. His brows are pinched together, and not for the last time does Yami wish his hands could do anything to touch him while incorporeal. Even still, he touches his knuckles to Yugi's cheek, pets through his hair in an attempt to soothe him, somehow.

"Aibou," he breathes, wishing there was something more he could do. Something to save him. Anything to ease the ache in his chest.

But is it Yugi's ache, or his own?

...That's not a choice Yami's allowed to make. Anyone else, but not him.

He whispers three words into the silence. Yugi doesn't stir, so he says them again, selfishly. It'd make Yugi cry more if he heard, he thinks, and so he clamps his mouth shut against saying them a third time. He's not been granted a luxury that fine within this half-life. Yami's fingers pass through the stray hairs he's attempting to smooth down.

"I'm sorry," he says instead, "for not being brave enough to stay. Aibou, I'm sorry. Forgive me."

"Atem," Yugi says, the name unfamiliar in his mouth. It tastes like sunrise and sunset, like the moon and the stars. It tastes of somewhere both very far away and something deep within his soul, all at once.

"Atem," he says again.

"That's my name, aibou," he says with a soft, knowing smile, looking away from where he's slicing a tomato and turning his head back toward him. "What is it?"

"Nothing," and he's a little embarassed now that those blood-laced eyes are fixed on him. "I just like how it sounds. Atem. It suits you."

Atem's eyes crinkle at the corners, and Yugi's sure that those wrinkles will become permanent as the years pass. "I'm glad. I was worried it'd be something dull or unfitting."

"I would've liked any name you chose. But this one is nice."

He delicately touches Yugi's cheek, cradling him as something precious. Yugi tilts his head into the touch. "Atem," he repeats.

"Yugi," he murmurs back, and then leans over to kiss him.

THANK YOUUU i got this notif yesterday and then fully lost track of it but I FOUND IT YAYYY <3

puzzleshipping but theyre like garnet from steven universe