[fic] I May be Crazy - Yugioh, YamixBakura, general/romance, PG, AU
Title: I May be Crazy
Author: Chey (duelist_gurl163)
Rating: PG
Genre: Genera/romance
Pairing: YamixBakura
Archive: Here
Warnings: AU, OOC-ness
Spoilers: None.
Summary: You might enjoy some madness for awhile...
Disclaimer: Yugioh continues to not belong to me.
Notes: Plotline and some quotes taken from the song You May be Right by Billy Joel.
---
Yami awoke to the sound of a slamming door. In the dim room, lit by only a single lamp by the window, he saw the intruder turn toward him and take a few steps, holding something bulky under his arm. The shadowed figure reached out, flipped a light switch, and flooded the room in light. Yami recoiled, squinting, and saw Bakura standing by the door, motorcycle helmet under his arm and dripping wet.
“What…what are you doing here?” Yami asked, rising to his feet.
Bakura frowned. “I live here.”
“I mean how did you get here.”
Bakura flapped his dripping arms. “How the hell do you think I got here, flying? I drove.”
“You drove in that? On your motorcycle?!” Yami demanded, swinging his hand at the window where, outside, rain was pouring down. “Are you crazy? I told you not to drive in this mess, there have been flood warnings and reports of hail-”
“Oh chill, I made it home alive, didn’t I?” Bakura said, shaking his head and sending water flying.
Yami scowled. “That just proves that you’re insane!”
“I’m insane because I made it home?”
“No, you’re insane for driving in this weather!”
“But I made it here okay!” Bakura argued, sounding exasperated.
Yami opened his mouth to argue back, before throwing up his hands in defeat. “Whatever, I give up. I had figured you’d be too much of a dumbass to stay safely under cover anyway, I don’t know why I’m bothering to be surprised. It’s too late at night for this.”
Bakura glanced at the clock. His eyes narrowed. “Hey, yeah…why aren’t you in bed? It’s two in the morning.”
“I was on my way there.”
A grin crossed Bakura’s lips. “You were waiting up for me.”
“I was not. The chair was just extra comfortable and I fell asleep, that’s all,” Yami replied stiffly, turning off the lamp.
“You were waiting up for me. I bet you were even checking the clock every few minutes, weren’t you?”
The broad, self-assured grin on his face was too much for Yami to take. “I’m not talking to you anymore,” he snapped, stalking toward the bedroom.
Bakura followed. “You didn’t even turn the covers down,” he said gleefully as Yami yanked the blankets back. “Did you eat dinner or were you too worried about me for that too?”
Yami, still scowling, stripped out of his clothes and changed into pajamas, before whirling around and holding up another wadded up pajama set as if it was a bomb.
“Change clothes or you’ll catch a cold,” Yami snarled in the direction of the wall behind Bakura, throwing the clothing at him. Bakura fell against the wall and almost dropped the clothes, he was cackling so much.
“I’ll catch a cold…good Gods Yami, I need to make you worried more often, this is excellent-”
“Shut up or I’m locking you out of this room, don’t think I won’t,” Yami threatened, only earning another peal of mad laughter in response. Obviously anything he said or did at this point was only going to amuse his infuriating nightmare of a boyfriend. “And I’m still not talking to you!” he added as Bakura left the room to get a towel, snickering the whole way.
By the time Bakura returned, dry aside from the damp ends of his hair, Yami had crawled under the covers and turned out the lights. He lay almost at the edge of the bed, facing away from Bakura’s side. Bakura sighed, left his wet clothes on the floor, and slipped under the blankets too, creeping over to Yami’s side and spooning against his back. Yami stiffened and brought one arm back, driving his elbow into Bakura’s side. Bakura grunted, but didn’t move.
“Oh come on,” he growled against the nape of Yami’s neck. “You’ve done this dozens of times. You’ll throw a hissy fit and get mad and then by the next day you’re bored of being mad and everything goes back to normal. You always get over it in the end, why go through with this half-assed silent treatment every time?”
Yami didn’t answer, but he did breathe out a bit more heavily than usual.
“Fine, I won’t ride my bike in the rain again, will that make you happy?”
No answer.
“Okay, I guess it was kind of dickish of me to laugh at you for waiting up.”
Nothing. Bakura frowned, aggravated now that he’d made an apology and got nothing in return. He retaliated by pinching Yami in a location that he was sure would get his attention.
“Hey. I left my wet clothes on the floor. On the carpet.”
Still no response. Yami must really be pissed.
“Fine, lay there and sulk, see if I care. I’ll see you in the morning.” Bakura rolled back away to his side and lay there silently, scowling at the ceiling, muttering - loudly enough for Yami to hear - “Of course, maybe in the morning I won’t feel like talking to you. Six years we’ve been together and you won’t even wish me good night, after I risked my life to make it home so that I could be here with you. You’d think that my devotion would earn me at least-”
Then, from the other side of the bed, he heard a muffled, grudging: “Good night, and shut up.”
“Hey!” Bakura pounced, grabbing Yami’s shoulder and pulling him over. “You do realize you just talked to me, right?”
“I figured you’d never stop yammering if I didn’t,” Yami said, sighing and looking up at his lover, the demon that he was.
A wild and beautiful demon, to be sure, but sinfully frustrating, the way a product of Hell ought to be. Sometimes Yami wondered what on Earth he’d been thinking to fall for such a psycho.
“So this means I win this argument, right? Because you broke and talked to me first?” Bakura crowed.
Damn it, Yami thought. “I still think you’re insane,” he said. “I have no idea what I see in you.”
Bakura grinned and nipped his ear, harder than he really needed to. “Just admit it, you can’t resist me.”
“If you aren’t careful, your ego is going to develop its own gravitational pull. I could have easily chosen anybody else, you know. It isn’t like I was ever hurting for dates. You should be grateful I ever paid attention to you.”
“I think it was a lunatic you were looking for all along.”
“I sure hit the jackpot on lunacy then,” Yami said with a sigh. He turned his head and kissed Bakura’s mouth, forcing his lips apart and taking control before Bakura could. He could feel Bakura resisting, then responding to the kiss, and he purposefully broke it off just as his partner was really beginning to enjoy it. The self-pitying mutter from the white-haired man probably made Yami feel a bit more victorious than he should. “Now go to sleep,” he said, pulling the covers over his head.
Several minutes later, he felt Bakura’s hand slowly, reluctantly, settle over top of his own. It made Yami smile to himself.
Even lunatics and demons had their good moments.
He closed his fingers over Bakura’s. For all he knew, maybe Bakura was right. Maybe, past all the exasperation and infuriation, there was something about that madness that he couldn’t help but enjoy.
X - X - X
Notes: I think I just made Yami into a fussy housewife. D8 ...I'M SORRY YAMI.
I kind of love dysfunctional darkshipping like cake. I can’t help it. ;~; And I seriously think You May be Right is like, the Darkshipping theme song. Look it up sometime, you’ll see.
Author: Chey (duelist_gurl163)
Rating: PG
Genre: Genera/romance
Pairing: YamixBakura
Archive: Here
Warnings: AU, OOC-ness
Spoilers: None.
Summary: You might enjoy some madness for awhile...
Disclaimer: Yugioh continues to not belong to me.
Notes: Plotline and some quotes taken from the song You May be Right by Billy Joel.
---
Yami awoke to the sound of a slamming door. In the dim room, lit by only a single lamp by the window, he saw the intruder turn toward him and take a few steps, holding something bulky under his arm. The shadowed figure reached out, flipped a light switch, and flooded the room in light. Yami recoiled, squinting, and saw Bakura standing by the door, motorcycle helmet under his arm and dripping wet.
“What…what are you doing here?” Yami asked, rising to his feet.
Bakura frowned. “I live here.”
“I mean how did you get here.”
Bakura flapped his dripping arms. “How the hell do you think I got here, flying? I drove.”
“You drove in that? On your motorcycle?!” Yami demanded, swinging his hand at the window where, outside, rain was pouring down. “Are you crazy? I told you not to drive in this mess, there have been flood warnings and reports of hail-”
“Oh chill, I made it home alive, didn’t I?” Bakura said, shaking his head and sending water flying.
Yami scowled. “That just proves that you’re insane!”
“I’m insane because I made it home?”
“No, you’re insane for driving in this weather!”
“But I made it here okay!” Bakura argued, sounding exasperated.
Yami opened his mouth to argue back, before throwing up his hands in defeat. “Whatever, I give up. I had figured you’d be too much of a dumbass to stay safely under cover anyway, I don’t know why I’m bothering to be surprised. It’s too late at night for this.”
Bakura glanced at the clock. His eyes narrowed. “Hey, yeah…why aren’t you in bed? It’s two in the morning.”
“I was on my way there.”
A grin crossed Bakura’s lips. “You were waiting up for me.”
“I was not. The chair was just extra comfortable and I fell asleep, that’s all,” Yami replied stiffly, turning off the lamp.
“You were waiting up for me. I bet you were even checking the clock every few minutes, weren’t you?”
The broad, self-assured grin on his face was too much for Yami to take. “I’m not talking to you anymore,” he snapped, stalking toward the bedroom.
Bakura followed. “You didn’t even turn the covers down,” he said gleefully as Yami yanked the blankets back. “Did you eat dinner or were you too worried about me for that too?”
Yami, still scowling, stripped out of his clothes and changed into pajamas, before whirling around and holding up another wadded up pajama set as if it was a bomb.
“Change clothes or you’ll catch a cold,” Yami snarled in the direction of the wall behind Bakura, throwing the clothing at him. Bakura fell against the wall and almost dropped the clothes, he was cackling so much.
“I’ll catch a cold…good Gods Yami, I need to make you worried more often, this is excellent-”
“Shut up or I’m locking you out of this room, don’t think I won’t,” Yami threatened, only earning another peal of mad laughter in response. Obviously anything he said or did at this point was only going to amuse his infuriating nightmare of a boyfriend. “And I’m still not talking to you!” he added as Bakura left the room to get a towel, snickering the whole way.
By the time Bakura returned, dry aside from the damp ends of his hair, Yami had crawled under the covers and turned out the lights. He lay almost at the edge of the bed, facing away from Bakura’s side. Bakura sighed, left his wet clothes on the floor, and slipped under the blankets too, creeping over to Yami’s side and spooning against his back. Yami stiffened and brought one arm back, driving his elbow into Bakura’s side. Bakura grunted, but didn’t move.
“Oh come on,” he growled against the nape of Yami’s neck. “You’ve done this dozens of times. You’ll throw a hissy fit and get mad and then by the next day you’re bored of being mad and everything goes back to normal. You always get over it in the end, why go through with this half-assed silent treatment every time?”
Yami didn’t answer, but he did breathe out a bit more heavily than usual.
“Fine, I won’t ride my bike in the rain again, will that make you happy?”
No answer.
“Okay, I guess it was kind of dickish of me to laugh at you for waiting up.”
Nothing. Bakura frowned, aggravated now that he’d made an apology and got nothing in return. He retaliated by pinching Yami in a location that he was sure would get his attention.
“Hey. I left my wet clothes on the floor. On the carpet.”
Still no response. Yami must really be pissed.
“Fine, lay there and sulk, see if I care. I’ll see you in the morning.” Bakura rolled back away to his side and lay there silently, scowling at the ceiling, muttering - loudly enough for Yami to hear - “Of course, maybe in the morning I won’t feel like talking to you. Six years we’ve been together and you won’t even wish me good night, after I risked my life to make it home so that I could be here with you. You’d think that my devotion would earn me at least-”
Then, from the other side of the bed, he heard a muffled, grudging: “Good night, and shut up.”
“Hey!” Bakura pounced, grabbing Yami’s shoulder and pulling him over. “You do realize you just talked to me, right?”
“I figured you’d never stop yammering if I didn’t,” Yami said, sighing and looking up at his lover, the demon that he was.
A wild and beautiful demon, to be sure, but sinfully frustrating, the way a product of Hell ought to be. Sometimes Yami wondered what on Earth he’d been thinking to fall for such a psycho.
“So this means I win this argument, right? Because you broke and talked to me first?” Bakura crowed.
Damn it, Yami thought. “I still think you’re insane,” he said. “I have no idea what I see in you.”
Bakura grinned and nipped his ear, harder than he really needed to. “Just admit it, you can’t resist me.”
“If you aren’t careful, your ego is going to develop its own gravitational pull. I could have easily chosen anybody else, you know. It isn’t like I was ever hurting for dates. You should be grateful I ever paid attention to you.”
“I think it was a lunatic you were looking for all along.”
“I sure hit the jackpot on lunacy then,” Yami said with a sigh. He turned his head and kissed Bakura’s mouth, forcing his lips apart and taking control before Bakura could. He could feel Bakura resisting, then responding to the kiss, and he purposefully broke it off just as his partner was really beginning to enjoy it. The self-pitying mutter from the white-haired man probably made Yami feel a bit more victorious than he should. “Now go to sleep,” he said, pulling the covers over his head.
Several minutes later, he felt Bakura’s hand slowly, reluctantly, settle over top of his own. It made Yami smile to himself.
Even lunatics and demons had their good moments.
He closed his fingers over Bakura’s. For all he knew, maybe Bakura was right. Maybe, past all the exasperation and infuriation, there was something about that madness that he couldn’t help but enjoy.
X - X - X
Notes: I think I just made Yami into a fussy housewife. D8 ...I'M SORRY YAMI.
I kind of love dysfunctional darkshipping like cake. I can’t help it. ;~; And I seriously think You May be Right is like, the Darkshipping theme song. Look it up sometime, you’ll see.