[fic] Yesterday's Victory [YuGiOh][for creepy_crawly]
written for a request made by: creepy_crawly
Fandom: YuGiOh
Pairing/characters: Yami/Yugi
Warnings/notes: I think I ended up with less fluff and less smut, but then again, I know I can't write smut. So nope, no warnings for anything sexual here, sorry.
Yesterday's victory
*
Warnings/notes: Yami/Yugi, post-series AU, slightly ooc.
Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh.
**********
When he was nineteen years, five months and twelve days young, Yuugi Mutoh decided that he didn't want to be a winner anymore. It was by no means a conscious decision on his part, although of course he'd thought before then that winning each and every game he played had to get tiresome at some point. Still, with the fate of the world as he knew it at stake, how could he complain?
Yesterday, he'd had to save the universe by winning in a game that had been rigged in every possible way not to let him win. What his opponent seemed not to have taken into account was that every game Yuugi played, no matter how rigged, would be one he won.
Once, perhaps, this was a little different; even if you wouldn't say it by the way Kaiba talks about Duelist Kingdom, Yuugi still feels like he's been defeated there, if more by Yami nearly ending up killing someone, than by Kaiba ruthlessly taking advantage of Yuugi's reluctance to let other people get hurt. Yami's a part of him now though, has been that way for so long that Yuugi can't imagine life without him anymore.
xxx
Yuugi's got Yami, and an utter inability to lose at anything, be it exams or card-games. He thinks that should make him one of the happiest people alive, or at the very least happier than Jounouchi, who's struggling to get his degree while working forty hours a week, too, at some music-store Yuugi's only visited once, before the loud noise got too much for him.
For some reason though, it doesn't. Jounouchi talks to him about Mai never returning any of his calls, or getting into another fight with his boss about being late, and he'll smile a lot, as if all of his troubles are nothing. Yuugi will smile back, unable to do anything else.
After all, he isn't able to explain the reason for his lack of happiness to himself, so how could he expect to be able to make Jounouchi understand? He can't even tell Yami, who knows everything about him -or at least almost everything, since Yuugi's pretty sure Yami doesn't know about those times when Yuugi will wake up in the middle of the night with Yami's name on his lips and a strange, empty feeling in his stomach, that's almost like hunger, if it'd been food he'd been longing for.
Yuugi can say 'blue', and Yami will know he's thinking about Anzu, and the New York-skyline. Yuugi can say 'hurt', and Yami will assure him that Bakura's going to be all right, and smile at him in a way that's almost enough to make the pain and emptiness go away, but never quite.
Perhaps, Yuugi decides gloomily, on a rainy day that fits his mood just fine, perhaps he's simply grown a little spoilt. How many people can say they've got an ancient Spirit living in their heads, who understands everything they say, no matter how garbled or vague? How many people have found that perfect soulmate, their other half, without getting disappointed or torn up in the process?
"Something is bothering you." Yami appears, sitting on the edge of his bed. Yuugi knows that even if Yami'd lie back, he wouldn't find any traces of Yami's presence afterwards, not a single hint to the fact that Yuugi hasn't been alone in this room.
"It's nothing." Yuugi finds it easy to smile at Yami. There's been a time when he worried about having turned insane, talking to imaginary persons, but that was before he saved the universe. Now, smiling at Yami just feels right, and if there's a part of him that wishes he could do more than just smile at Yami, then that's nobody's problem but his own.
"No, it's not nothing." Yami shakes his head. "I haven't spoken about this before, because you seemed reluctant to bring it up, but it's been three weeks now, and whatever it is that's been troubling you hasn't gone away. It's not going to either, not unless you let me help you."
"Why? Because I can't do anything by myself, except causing problems?" Yuugi snaps. He rarely loses is temper with anyone else, only Yami is too close to being himself, too close and too understanding. Yami can always hear the words behind the words that Yuugi speaks.
"Let me help you," Yami repeats, although the first time he said it as an offer, and now he's turned it into more of something that's neither a plea nor a command, although it comes close to either.
"You can't." Yuugi wants to sink down next to Yami, silently asking to be held and rocked, like the ten-year-old he no longer is. Yami can touch him, even if the rest of the world can't even see the Spirit.
"Aaah." The bed creaks as Yami rises. "Yuugi." Too many emotions are hidden under his name when Yami speaks it, and Yuugi's sure that some of them don't even have names. Like the way Yami touches his face, forcing him to look at him without using any force at all.
Yuugi stares into Yami's eyes and feels dizzy at what he sees in them.
"You should never underestimate me." Yami's voice runs down his spine like a shiver, except that Yuugi doesn't feel cold, but hot, too hot for comfort. "You have no idea what I can do."
There might be a threat in that last statement. There might be a hint of something predatory in the way Yami positions his body, making sure that it doesn't touch Yuugi's anywhere, unless Yuugi moves the tiniest little bit.
Yuugi isn't sure if he wants to speak. He's not sure he'd succeed if he tried to either, and it seems much easier to yield, to let Yami catch him when he falls. The thought that Yami might not, that Yami might step aside and not mean what he seems to mean doesn't even occur to Yuugi.
For some reason, Yuugi has never expected this to be easy. He's never expected Yami to know his body as well as his mind, to be as good at finding the places where Yuugi wants to be touched or kissed or licked as he is at finding the fatal flaw in an opponent's strategy.
"Are you complaining about that?" Yami leans over him, and Yuugi realizes that he doesn't really recall their moving over to his bed, or getting rid of his clothes.
"No." Yuugi finds that he's shivering again, although he guesses that that's really not a bad or unpleasant thing, since Yami seems to take it as an encouragement to hold him more tightly, until Yuugi feels like he can't just hear his own blood rushing through his veins, but Yami's as well.
Yami grins. Yuugi isn't sure if that's a response to his spoken words or his thoughts. There doesn't seem to be much of a difference, not when Yami's lips slowly make their way from his chest to his stomach, and then lower still.
xxx
When he was nineteen years, five months and thirteen days young, Yuugi Mutoh decided that there were worse things in this world than not being able to lose any game, especially when one had a several-thousand-year old Spirit to remind one of that fact.
"It's your move, Yuugi." Yami smiled in a way that made Yuugi a little uneasy about the place he'd intended to place his stone. He hadn't been playing Go for very long, but then again, neither had Yami, even if there'd been a game very similar to it in Ancient Egypt. Still, Yuugi was beginning to suspect that Yami had been sure of his victory even before he'd placed his first black stone.
"That all depends on your definition of a victory," Yami commented, with a grin.
Yuugi, recalling the exact terms of the bet they'd made in order to make the game more interesting, felt the blood rush to his cheeks and dropped the white stone he'd been about to use to trap several of Yami's black stones.
This time, it was the floormats that didn't show any sign of what had taken place on them when Yuugi woke up the next morning, although there was a slight soreness in his backside that reassured him he hadn't been dreaming or imagining things.
~OWARI~
Fandom: YuGiOh
Pairing/characters: Yami/Yugi
Warnings/notes: I think I ended up with less fluff and less smut, but then again, I know I can't write smut. So nope, no warnings for anything sexual here, sorry.
Yesterday's victory
*
Warnings/notes: Yami/Yugi, post-series AU, slightly ooc.
Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh.
**********
When he was nineteen years, five months and twelve days young, Yuugi Mutoh decided that he didn't want to be a winner anymore. It was by no means a conscious decision on his part, although of course he'd thought before then that winning each and every game he played had to get tiresome at some point. Still, with the fate of the world as he knew it at stake, how could he complain?
Yesterday, he'd had to save the universe by winning in a game that had been rigged in every possible way not to let him win. What his opponent seemed not to have taken into account was that every game Yuugi played, no matter how rigged, would be one he won.
Once, perhaps, this was a little different; even if you wouldn't say it by the way Kaiba talks about Duelist Kingdom, Yuugi still feels like he's been defeated there, if more by Yami nearly ending up killing someone, than by Kaiba ruthlessly taking advantage of Yuugi's reluctance to let other people get hurt. Yami's a part of him now though, has been that way for so long that Yuugi can't imagine life without him anymore.
xxx
Yuugi's got Yami, and an utter inability to lose at anything, be it exams or card-games. He thinks that should make him one of the happiest people alive, or at the very least happier than Jounouchi, who's struggling to get his degree while working forty hours a week, too, at some music-store Yuugi's only visited once, before the loud noise got too much for him.
For some reason though, it doesn't. Jounouchi talks to him about Mai never returning any of his calls, or getting into another fight with his boss about being late, and he'll smile a lot, as if all of his troubles are nothing. Yuugi will smile back, unable to do anything else.
After all, he isn't able to explain the reason for his lack of happiness to himself, so how could he expect to be able to make Jounouchi understand? He can't even tell Yami, who knows everything about him -or at least almost everything, since Yuugi's pretty sure Yami doesn't know about those times when Yuugi will wake up in the middle of the night with Yami's name on his lips and a strange, empty feeling in his stomach, that's almost like hunger, if it'd been food he'd been longing for.
Yuugi can say 'blue', and Yami will know he's thinking about Anzu, and the New York-skyline. Yuugi can say 'hurt', and Yami will assure him that Bakura's going to be all right, and smile at him in a way that's almost enough to make the pain and emptiness go away, but never quite.
Perhaps, Yuugi decides gloomily, on a rainy day that fits his mood just fine, perhaps he's simply grown a little spoilt. How many people can say they've got an ancient Spirit living in their heads, who understands everything they say, no matter how garbled or vague? How many people have found that perfect soulmate, their other half, without getting disappointed or torn up in the process?
"Something is bothering you." Yami appears, sitting on the edge of his bed. Yuugi knows that even if Yami'd lie back, he wouldn't find any traces of Yami's presence afterwards, not a single hint to the fact that Yuugi hasn't been alone in this room.
"It's nothing." Yuugi finds it easy to smile at Yami. There's been a time when he worried about having turned insane, talking to imaginary persons, but that was before he saved the universe. Now, smiling at Yami just feels right, and if there's a part of him that wishes he could do more than just smile at Yami, then that's nobody's problem but his own.
"No, it's not nothing." Yami shakes his head. "I haven't spoken about this before, because you seemed reluctant to bring it up, but it's been three weeks now, and whatever it is that's been troubling you hasn't gone away. It's not going to either, not unless you let me help you."
"Why? Because I can't do anything by myself, except causing problems?" Yuugi snaps. He rarely loses is temper with anyone else, only Yami is too close to being himself, too close and too understanding. Yami can always hear the words behind the words that Yuugi speaks.
"Let me help you," Yami repeats, although the first time he said it as an offer, and now he's turned it into more of something that's neither a plea nor a command, although it comes close to either.
"You can't." Yuugi wants to sink down next to Yami, silently asking to be held and rocked, like the ten-year-old he no longer is. Yami can touch him, even if the rest of the world can't even see the Spirit.
"Aaah." The bed creaks as Yami rises. "Yuugi." Too many emotions are hidden under his name when Yami speaks it, and Yuugi's sure that some of them don't even have names. Like the way Yami touches his face, forcing him to look at him without using any force at all.
Yuugi stares into Yami's eyes and feels dizzy at what he sees in them.
"You should never underestimate me." Yami's voice runs down his spine like a shiver, except that Yuugi doesn't feel cold, but hot, too hot for comfort. "You have no idea what I can do."
There might be a threat in that last statement. There might be a hint of something predatory in the way Yami positions his body, making sure that it doesn't touch Yuugi's anywhere, unless Yuugi moves the tiniest little bit.
Yuugi isn't sure if he wants to speak. He's not sure he'd succeed if he tried to either, and it seems much easier to yield, to let Yami catch him when he falls. The thought that Yami might not, that Yami might step aside and not mean what he seems to mean doesn't even occur to Yuugi.
For some reason, Yuugi has never expected this to be easy. He's never expected Yami to know his body as well as his mind, to be as good at finding the places where Yuugi wants to be touched or kissed or licked as he is at finding the fatal flaw in an opponent's strategy.
"Are you complaining about that?" Yami leans over him, and Yuugi realizes that he doesn't really recall their moving over to his bed, or getting rid of his clothes.
"No." Yuugi finds that he's shivering again, although he guesses that that's really not a bad or unpleasant thing, since Yami seems to take it as an encouragement to hold him more tightly, until Yuugi feels like he can't just hear his own blood rushing through his veins, but Yami's as well.
Yami grins. Yuugi isn't sure if that's a response to his spoken words or his thoughts. There doesn't seem to be much of a difference, not when Yami's lips slowly make their way from his chest to his stomach, and then lower still.
xxx
When he was nineteen years, five months and thirteen days young, Yuugi Mutoh decided that there were worse things in this world than not being able to lose any game, especially when one had a several-thousand-year old Spirit to remind one of that fact.
"It's your move, Yuugi." Yami smiled in a way that made Yuugi a little uneasy about the place he'd intended to place his stone. He hadn't been playing Go for very long, but then again, neither had Yami, even if there'd been a game very similar to it in Ancient Egypt. Still, Yuugi was beginning to suspect that Yami had been sure of his victory even before he'd placed his first black stone.
"That all depends on your definition of a victory," Yami commented, with a grin.
Yuugi, recalling the exact terms of the bet they'd made in order to make the game more interesting, felt the blood rush to his cheeks and dropped the white stone he'd been about to use to trap several of Yami's black stones.
This time, it was the floormats that didn't show any sign of what had taken place on them when Yuugi woke up the next morning, although there was a slight soreness in his backside that reassured him he hadn't been dreaming or imagining things.
~OWARI~