Fic: Sincerity
As always, intense emotional distress makes me write... thank fuck its useful for something.
Title: Sincerity
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Characters: Seto & Mokuba Kaiba
For: 30_friends
Theme: 1) Platonic love.
Author notes: As I said, intense emotional distress made this, so expect rather disjointed unpolished random mumblings, but seeing as most of you won't read it anyway I have no plans to clean it up. For those of you who know me well, you'll understand whats been poured into this, as always I leave a part of myself with every fic.
He’s not sure he’s ever going to fit in. First time he tried it had stung, but he soon became numb to it and eventually stopped trying all together.
Alcohol is a bitter poison, too satisfying to be wholly bad, too sharp to be purely comfort. But it sits with him now the same way it does most nights.
He moves his hand gently, creating a small whirlpool in his vodka, swirling the ice around the glass. It hypnotizes him, the ebb holding him as if he were a prisoner; the image of himself drowning in the depths oddly alluring. In his minds eye he sinks and the vodka churns red.
He raises it to his lips and drinks it down. It almost tastes like blood. The sacrifice of his hope, hate, bitterness and mostly that ache left by something he isn’t sure if he’s even managed to discover yet.
He’s convinced he can taste blood; a flavour of encouragement.
He has a headache, but he knows it’s not the drink; it’s a different type of pain. This one pounds the inside of his skull, heats up his ears and disorientates more than actually hurts.
He places the glass onto the bedside table and runs his chilled fingers through sweat damp black hair, bringing it to rest softly against Mokuba’s flush skin.
The young boy groans gratefully at his brothers’ touch and mumbles a sleepy “that’s nice” before sighing and pressing closer against the older teen.
“It’s a fever, it’ll pass.” Seto soothes through a dry throat.
The younger boy wriggles for a while before he settles, fingers bunched in bedclothes and snoring softly.
Seto trails his fingers over his brothers’ forehead, tracing the trails of sweat, wondering what exactly the magnetism was that Yugi Moto seemed to possess in buckets. It was sickening really, that no matter how hard he tried in one way or another he always ended up twisted up with them again; that bunch of moral nobodies have become the closest thing he has to friends.
Is it wrong that someone so antisocial can feel so lonely?
He twists a strand of dark hair gently between his fingers.
All around him people were so happy, embracing, kissing and touching; whispering sweet things to each other over sweet ice cream or hot coffee. He didn’t want to envy it, but something in his stomach felt empty. He doubted anyone would ever say those three little words to him with any intention other than to sleep their way into his wallet.
On his lap the small boy turned, throwing one arm across Seto and holding him tightly.
“Nii Sama?” he breathes.
“Hn?”
“I love you.”
They slip into a comfortable silence leaving Seto to wonder if Mokuba truly is psychic.
I wish I was in this picture.
Title: Sincerity
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Characters: Seto & Mokuba Kaiba
For: 30_friends
Theme: 1) Platonic love.
Author notes: As I said, intense emotional distress made this, so expect rather disjointed unpolished random mumblings, but seeing as most of you won't read it anyway I have no plans to clean it up. For those of you who know me well, you'll understand whats been poured into this, as always I leave a part of myself with every fic.
He’s not sure he’s ever going to fit in. First time he tried it had stung, but he soon became numb to it and eventually stopped trying all together.
Alcohol is a bitter poison, too satisfying to be wholly bad, too sharp to be purely comfort. But it sits with him now the same way it does most nights.
He moves his hand gently, creating a small whirlpool in his vodka, swirling the ice around the glass. It hypnotizes him, the ebb holding him as if he were a prisoner; the image of himself drowning in the depths oddly alluring. In his minds eye he sinks and the vodka churns red.
He raises it to his lips and drinks it down. It almost tastes like blood. The sacrifice of his hope, hate, bitterness and mostly that ache left by something he isn’t sure if he’s even managed to discover yet.
He’s convinced he can taste blood; a flavour of encouragement.
He has a headache, but he knows it’s not the drink; it’s a different type of pain. This one pounds the inside of his skull, heats up his ears and disorientates more than actually hurts.
He places the glass onto the bedside table and runs his chilled fingers through sweat damp black hair, bringing it to rest softly against Mokuba’s flush skin.
The young boy groans gratefully at his brothers’ touch and mumbles a sleepy “that’s nice” before sighing and pressing closer against the older teen.
“It’s a fever, it’ll pass.” Seto soothes through a dry throat.
The younger boy wriggles for a while before he settles, fingers bunched in bedclothes and snoring softly.
Seto trails his fingers over his brothers’ forehead, tracing the trails of sweat, wondering what exactly the magnetism was that Yugi Moto seemed to possess in buckets. It was sickening really, that no matter how hard he tried in one way or another he always ended up twisted up with them again; that bunch of moral nobodies have become the closest thing he has to friends.
Is it wrong that someone so antisocial can feel so lonely?
He twists a strand of dark hair gently between his fingers.
All around him people were so happy, embracing, kissing and touching; whispering sweet things to each other over sweet ice cream or hot coffee. He didn’t want to envy it, but something in his stomach felt empty. He doubted anyone would ever say those three little words to him with any intention other than to sleep their way into his wallet.
On his lap the small boy turned, throwing one arm across Seto and holding him tightly.
“Nii Sama?” he breathes.
“Hn?”
“I love you.”
They slip into a comfortable silence leaving Seto to wonder if Mokuba truly is psychic.
I wish I was in this picture.
