The Last War.
Title: The Last War
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Pairing: Ryuuji/Malik
Word Count: 1,741
Summary: People are so much more honest when they don't need to worry about there being a morning after. Quiet, low-key changeshipping, a little angsty and bittersweet.
Last War.
They sit in the shelter and above them, the bombs explode with a sound that is not dissimilar to fireworks.
Malik closes his eyes and tips his head back, muscled arms supporting him as he sits on the concrete floor. He could sprawl out on the mattress like Ryuuji is, but he prefers this. The ground is cold and real, he scrapes his fingernails over it until the pads of his fingers are bleeding.
Anything is better than waiting to be hit, but closing his eyes just lets him picture all the more vividly what it would be like if they were struck.
Ryuuji doesn't seem to care about the sirens wailing overhead but he takes everything casually. Malik decided a long time ago that it wasn't that Ryuuji was particulary cool or unconcerned, it was just that he never showed it. Amusing in a way, and pathetic in a sense that's too proud to accept pity. He wonders if Ryuuji would make a pretty corpse and opens his eyes again to slant a sideways look at the other boy.
Out of the corner of his eye, Malik can see him tilt his head back and pour the contents of what looks like a bottle of beer down his throat. The empty bottle is discarded carelessly, rolling over the floor with a tinkling noise that makes Malik laugh, just because it's so incongruous. They're going to die, they're going to fucking die and Ryuuji's acting like this is their own private party.
The gamer is giving him a curious look though, so Malik forces himself to smirk and jerks his head at the empty bottle. "You didn't offer me anyway."
Understanding lights up Ryuuji's eyes, and he smirks in return, "How rude of me. My apologies for being such a bad host."
A little tension uncoils in Malik's stomach, and the Egyptian seizes the opportunity to forget the situation they're in by bantering with the other."It wasn't as if you expected me to be caught outside your house when the sirens went off. I'm sure you would have stocked up more alcohol if you had known."
"Or I would have not placed any here at all." The retort is made in a flippant tone and Ryuuji pulls out a pack of cigarettes as he speaks, opening it with a deft flick of his fingernail and letting a thin white cylinder slide into the palm of his hand. Verdant eyes teasing, he cants his head at Malik in inquiry. "Would an offer of a smoke make up for my selfishness?"
Instead of accepting, Malik wrinkles his nose with disgust, pointedly looking away from Ryuuji. "I'd rather not die of lung cancer."
An unusually loud explosion sounds overhead and Malik barely manages to stop himself from flinching. His surprise shows in his eyes though, and Ryuuji laughs, the sound soft and amused. "C'mon Malik. You really think that either of us will live to the end of the war?"
"I..." An explosion cuts Malik's words off, and the Egyptian glances upwards involuntarily. The blasts sound like they're coming closer and- The sound of laughter breaks him away from his thoughts and he glares at Ryuuji, glad of the distraction.
His frustration at the situation evident in his tone, he snaps at the gamer, "Stop laughing Otogi. This isn't funny."
"Ryuuji." The correction is made mildly as Ryuuji flicks a lighter open and torches the end of the cigarete. A slow, langurous suck, full lips parted around the little white death-stick, and then Ryuuji removes it to speak, blowing a hazy cloud into the small shelter to do so.
Temporarily stunned into silence by the temerity of the other, Malik narrows his lavender eyes at the gamer, waving away the smoke as he asks in a tone marginally less hostile. "What?"
"Ryuuji. Since we're going to die, you might as well call me by my first name."
The boy's calm acceptance of the situation infuriates Malik and he snatches the cigarette from Ryuuji's hand to stub it out against the conctrete. "You might die of lung cancer, but leave me out of it. I fully intend on surviving this."
Another laugh and were it not for how off-balance it throws Malik to hear Ryuuji laughing, he might actually appreciate the smoothly arrogant sound of it. The gamer speaks in the same way, words a promise made in bad faith.
"Whatever you say Malik." His eyes are amused and there's a smirk on his lips and Malik can't decide if he actually wants to strike Ryuuji or if it's just the panic speaking but Ryuuji continues speaking before Malik has a chance to choose. "There's no point in being so scared of death anyway. Everyone dies eventually."
Annoyed that Ryuuji doesn't even object to the loss of his smoke, Malik narrows his eyes at the gamer, pointing out with ruthless logic, "Then everyone might as well call you by your first name, all the time."
"And?" Slender, beautiful shoulders shrug casually and Ryuuji turns a little away from Malik in a manner that leaves the boy wondering if Ryuuji did that on purpose because he knows how otherworldly he looks in half-profile.
"And nothing. Because we all die - or that's your theory, right?" The words come out harsher than Malik intends them to, sharp-edged and mocking but it's too late to take them back. The other's calm is getting to him and it's only now that he's trapped in a confined space with the gamer that he realizes how little he knows of Ryuuji.
How little anyone knows of Ryuuji really, despite his status as an international lust object, and the part of Malik that swears desperately he'll survive this stores that away for future perusal.
Secrets are annoying until they're unravelled.
And then sometimes they're beautiful, sometimes they're ugly.
Malik is quite sure that Ryuuji's secrets would be as pretty as the rest of him.
The gamer shrugs again, emerald gaze flickering sideways to rest on Malik thoughtfully. A corner of his mouth twitches upwards in something akin to a smile and this time, he shrugs with only one shoulder. "Or you misunderstood me."
"What's to misunderstand? You're being fatalistic and giving up." Malik's tone is annoyed again, the momentarily twinge of guilt he felt fading in the face of the other's impertuable air.
"Giving up? Hardly. I'm just saying that life should be enjoyed while you live it. There's no point worrying about dying until it happens." The smile that Ryuuji flashes him is bright and dazzling, a smile for fangirls and photographers. Malik can see it's fake, but Ryuuji's words are so light and mocking that they have to be sincere. Have to be. Or so Malik wants to be believe anyway, for reasons he can't quite pinpoint and doesn't want to explore.
With a snort, looking away from the gamer, Malik mutters under his breath, "Trust you to twist the meaning of what you said completely around." Fingers brush over his hand and Malik almost loses his balance by trying to jerk it away, but the other's hand grips Malik's hand tightly, long, slender fingers laced between the Egyptian's in a gesture that Malik considers both reassuring and incredibly presumptuous of Ryuuji.
Still.
He's not going to say anything, so it looks like Ryuuji got away with it. It looks like Ryuuji was right. Not that Malik likes the other (yesnomaybealittle) but that he's got more important things to worry about. Acting as nonchalant as he can, he inquires of the other carelessly, "When do you think this raid will end?"
He can picture the way that Ryuuji would shrug in response to that, even though he's not looking at the other boy any longer, and anticipates the flippant retort of "When we're both dead."
Ryuuji doesn't say that though, but instead sighs and the action is surprising enough to make Malik turn around and look at the gamer, one eyebrow arched in silent inquiry. Ryuuji's not looking at him though, but tracing around the empty bottle with a fresh cigarette, dirtying the tip, and he doesn't look up as he answers, "I don't know - I didn't plan it after all."
"Hah. I bet it was all part of your master plan to get me alone and seduce me." Malik mutters, wondering what got the gamer so quiet. Apart from the fact that they are holding hands and Malik refuses to acknowledge that was even happening, let alone think that such a simple gesture can calm Ryuuji down.
Tiger-green eyes are suddenly locked with his own, and the smirk that curves Ryuuji's lips is teasing again. "Well, I hadn't actually planned on this, but there's nothing wrong with improvising..."
And now Malik jerks his hand away, slightly unnerved by how intense the other's gaze is. Had Ryuuji's eyes always been such a vivid green or had Malik simply failed to notice? Ryuuji doesn't comment, but instead returns to playing with the bottle, his hair falling over his eyes and casting strange shadows on his face.
The silence is unbearable and Malik finally breaks it with the half-desperate question, "Aren't you - aren't you scared? At all?" He wants to take the words back as soon as he speaks them, hating how the pause makes it sound like he stammered but it's too late because Ryuuji is already looking up to tilt his head at Malik, and all the Egyptian can do is hold the other's gaze and pretend he didn't notice his own hesitation.
They stay like that for a while, Ryuuji searching Malik's eyes - for what, Malik doesn't know, but he doesn't back down and Ryuuji seems satisfied since he replies quietly, "Not really. Like I said, everyone dies eventually, and there are worse ways to die."
"I don't want to die." Malik responds almost defiantly as if Ryuuji is the enemy, but Ryuuji simply shrugs and replies, "I didn't say that I did either."
"Then why are you so calm about it?!" The question sounds familar as if Malik has asked it before, but Ryuuji doesn't seem to think it's odd and replies patiently enough, "Everyone dies. Did you want to live forever?"
For a second, Malik thinks of old dreams of being the Pharaoh, being immortal, being powerful beyond reason... then bows his head, eyes slipping shut as he confesses softly, "Yes. I did."
There's silence for a while and for a change, Ryuuji doesn't laugh as he replies gravely, "So did I."
His hand covers Malik's again, and this time, Malik welcomes it.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Pairing: Ryuuji/Malik
Word Count: 1,741
Summary: People are so much more honest when they don't need to worry about there being a morning after. Quiet, low-key changeshipping, a little angsty and bittersweet.
Last War.
They sit in the shelter and above them, the bombs explode with a sound that is not dissimilar to fireworks.
Malik closes his eyes and tips his head back, muscled arms supporting him as he sits on the concrete floor. He could sprawl out on the mattress like Ryuuji is, but he prefers this. The ground is cold and real, he scrapes his fingernails over it until the pads of his fingers are bleeding.
Anything is better than waiting to be hit, but closing his eyes just lets him picture all the more vividly what it would be like if they were struck.
Ryuuji doesn't seem to care about the sirens wailing overhead but he takes everything casually. Malik decided a long time ago that it wasn't that Ryuuji was particulary cool or unconcerned, it was just that he never showed it. Amusing in a way, and pathetic in a sense that's too proud to accept pity. He wonders if Ryuuji would make a pretty corpse and opens his eyes again to slant a sideways look at the other boy.
Out of the corner of his eye, Malik can see him tilt his head back and pour the contents of what looks like a bottle of beer down his throat. The empty bottle is discarded carelessly, rolling over the floor with a tinkling noise that makes Malik laugh, just because it's so incongruous. They're going to die, they're going to fucking die and Ryuuji's acting like this is their own private party.
The gamer is giving him a curious look though, so Malik forces himself to smirk and jerks his head at the empty bottle. "You didn't offer me anyway."
Understanding lights up Ryuuji's eyes, and he smirks in return, "How rude of me. My apologies for being such a bad host."
A little tension uncoils in Malik's stomach, and the Egyptian seizes the opportunity to forget the situation they're in by bantering with the other."It wasn't as if you expected me to be caught outside your house when the sirens went off. I'm sure you would have stocked up more alcohol if you had known."
"Or I would have not placed any here at all." The retort is made in a flippant tone and Ryuuji pulls out a pack of cigarettes as he speaks, opening it with a deft flick of his fingernail and letting a thin white cylinder slide into the palm of his hand. Verdant eyes teasing, he cants his head at Malik in inquiry. "Would an offer of a smoke make up for my selfishness?"
Instead of accepting, Malik wrinkles his nose with disgust, pointedly looking away from Ryuuji. "I'd rather not die of lung cancer."
An unusually loud explosion sounds overhead and Malik barely manages to stop himself from flinching. His surprise shows in his eyes though, and Ryuuji laughs, the sound soft and amused. "C'mon Malik. You really think that either of us will live to the end of the war?"
"I..." An explosion cuts Malik's words off, and the Egyptian glances upwards involuntarily. The blasts sound like they're coming closer and- The sound of laughter breaks him away from his thoughts and he glares at Ryuuji, glad of the distraction.
His frustration at the situation evident in his tone, he snaps at the gamer, "Stop laughing Otogi. This isn't funny."
"Ryuuji." The correction is made mildly as Ryuuji flicks a lighter open and torches the end of the cigarete. A slow, langurous suck, full lips parted around the little white death-stick, and then Ryuuji removes it to speak, blowing a hazy cloud into the small shelter to do so.
Temporarily stunned into silence by the temerity of the other, Malik narrows his lavender eyes at the gamer, waving away the smoke as he asks in a tone marginally less hostile. "What?"
"Ryuuji. Since we're going to die, you might as well call me by my first name."
The boy's calm acceptance of the situation infuriates Malik and he snatches the cigarette from Ryuuji's hand to stub it out against the conctrete. "You might die of lung cancer, but leave me out of it. I fully intend on surviving this."
Another laugh and were it not for how off-balance it throws Malik to hear Ryuuji laughing, he might actually appreciate the smoothly arrogant sound of it. The gamer speaks in the same way, words a promise made in bad faith.
"Whatever you say Malik." His eyes are amused and there's a smirk on his lips and Malik can't decide if he actually wants to strike Ryuuji or if it's just the panic speaking but Ryuuji continues speaking before Malik has a chance to choose. "There's no point in being so scared of death anyway. Everyone dies eventually."
Annoyed that Ryuuji doesn't even object to the loss of his smoke, Malik narrows his eyes at the gamer, pointing out with ruthless logic, "Then everyone might as well call you by your first name, all the time."
"And?" Slender, beautiful shoulders shrug casually and Ryuuji turns a little away from Malik in a manner that leaves the boy wondering if Ryuuji did that on purpose because he knows how otherworldly he looks in half-profile.
"And nothing. Because we all die - or that's your theory, right?" The words come out harsher than Malik intends them to, sharp-edged and mocking but it's too late to take them back. The other's calm is getting to him and it's only now that he's trapped in a confined space with the gamer that he realizes how little he knows of Ryuuji.
How little anyone knows of Ryuuji really, despite his status as an international lust object, and the part of Malik that swears desperately he'll survive this stores that away for future perusal.
Secrets are annoying until they're unravelled.
And then sometimes they're beautiful, sometimes they're ugly.
Malik is quite sure that Ryuuji's secrets would be as pretty as the rest of him.
The gamer shrugs again, emerald gaze flickering sideways to rest on Malik thoughtfully. A corner of his mouth twitches upwards in something akin to a smile and this time, he shrugs with only one shoulder. "Or you misunderstood me."
"What's to misunderstand? You're being fatalistic and giving up." Malik's tone is annoyed again, the momentarily twinge of guilt he felt fading in the face of the other's impertuable air.
"Giving up? Hardly. I'm just saying that life should be enjoyed while you live it. There's no point worrying about dying until it happens." The smile that Ryuuji flashes him is bright and dazzling, a smile for fangirls and photographers. Malik can see it's fake, but Ryuuji's words are so light and mocking that they have to be sincere. Have to be. Or so Malik wants to be believe anyway, for reasons he can't quite pinpoint and doesn't want to explore.
With a snort, looking away from the gamer, Malik mutters under his breath, "Trust you to twist the meaning of what you said completely around." Fingers brush over his hand and Malik almost loses his balance by trying to jerk it away, but the other's hand grips Malik's hand tightly, long, slender fingers laced between the Egyptian's in a gesture that Malik considers both reassuring and incredibly presumptuous of Ryuuji.
Still.
He's not going to say anything, so it looks like Ryuuji got away with it. It looks like Ryuuji was right. Not that Malik likes the other (yesnomaybealittle) but that he's got more important things to worry about. Acting as nonchalant as he can, he inquires of the other carelessly, "When do you think this raid will end?"
He can picture the way that Ryuuji would shrug in response to that, even though he's not looking at the other boy any longer, and anticipates the flippant retort of "When we're both dead."
Ryuuji doesn't say that though, but instead sighs and the action is surprising enough to make Malik turn around and look at the gamer, one eyebrow arched in silent inquiry. Ryuuji's not looking at him though, but tracing around the empty bottle with a fresh cigarette, dirtying the tip, and he doesn't look up as he answers, "I don't know - I didn't plan it after all."
"Hah. I bet it was all part of your master plan to get me alone and seduce me." Malik mutters, wondering what got the gamer so quiet. Apart from the fact that they are holding hands and Malik refuses to acknowledge that was even happening, let alone think that such a simple gesture can calm Ryuuji down.
Tiger-green eyes are suddenly locked with his own, and the smirk that curves Ryuuji's lips is teasing again. "Well, I hadn't actually planned on this, but there's nothing wrong with improvising..."
And now Malik jerks his hand away, slightly unnerved by how intense the other's gaze is. Had Ryuuji's eyes always been such a vivid green or had Malik simply failed to notice? Ryuuji doesn't comment, but instead returns to playing with the bottle, his hair falling over his eyes and casting strange shadows on his face.
The silence is unbearable and Malik finally breaks it with the half-desperate question, "Aren't you - aren't you scared? At all?" He wants to take the words back as soon as he speaks them, hating how the pause makes it sound like he stammered but it's too late because Ryuuji is already looking up to tilt his head at Malik, and all the Egyptian can do is hold the other's gaze and pretend he didn't notice his own hesitation.
They stay like that for a while, Ryuuji searching Malik's eyes - for what, Malik doesn't know, but he doesn't back down and Ryuuji seems satisfied since he replies quietly, "Not really. Like I said, everyone dies eventually, and there are worse ways to die."
"I don't want to die." Malik responds almost defiantly as if Ryuuji is the enemy, but Ryuuji simply shrugs and replies, "I didn't say that I did either."
"Then why are you so calm about it?!" The question sounds familar as if Malik has asked it before, but Ryuuji doesn't seem to think it's odd and replies patiently enough, "Everyone dies. Did you want to live forever?"
For a second, Malik thinks of old dreams of being the Pharaoh, being immortal, being powerful beyond reason... then bows his head, eyes slipping shut as he confesses softly, "Yes. I did."
There's silence for a while and for a change, Ryuuji doesn't laugh as he replies gravely, "So did I."
His hand covers Malik's again, and this time, Malik welcomes it.