Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Nemo ❯ Four ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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- Part Four -

The next time he wakes up, he's sprawled out over the couch, not on the floor next to it, and there's something wet and cool over his eyes. His throat feels pinched and dry, there's some stranger saying something in a language he doesn't understand, and his eyes feel rather like someone has glued them shut - he remembers that, watching as Yugi built some little model of something or other, and his quiet inquiry left him blinking at the sloppy mess on his hands and running to the bathroom to wash, his aibou's laughter ringing in his head - and the noise he makes certainly doesn't sound recognizably human.

But there's footsteps, warm and sure, and when he inhales next, Yugi's there, deftly plucking the cloth off his face and offering him a slow, gentle smile. "Hey, you," he greets softly, and presses a hand to his forehead while he winces and tries to blink away the light.

"...ngh," he manages, and wants to scrub at his eyes fiercely - something he'd do if he were certain his limbs would obey him, which he isn't.

"That good, huh?" Yugi murmurs, and rubs his fingers lightly through the tangled mass of his hair. The sensation is soothing, if a little foreign, and if he could press into the touch, he would. But he can't, so he doesn't, just scrunches up his nose and eyes and tries to communicate without words that he needs the gooey gunk out of his eyes right now. Mercifully, Yugi's a quick learner, and the cloth returns, and even if a little water does get into his eyes, having the goop wiped away makes him feel much better, even if the rest of his body feels like a lead weight.

"Wh-" he stops, coming to the realization that his tongue feels entirely to large for his mouth, and attempts to swallow. When that doesn't quite work, he blinks wearily upwards - Aibou, water? - and watches the realization dawn in his eyes.

"Be right back," Yugi murmurs, and leaves him, and if he could, he would turn to watch him go. As things stand, however, he stays where he is, staring up at the living room ceiling and vaguely wondering how much time has passed since the first time he woke up. The lighting has changed, he's sure, although he's not quite certain how. There's less of it, and it's much less bright, and he's suddenly aware that night has fallen, that the house has that particular quietness to it that only falls when everything is shut up for the night, and that Yugi, rushing back into the room with his arms full, is wearing his pajamas.

"Hey," he greets breathlessly, carelessly dumping the things onto the floor. "I got you some water and some other stuff, just in case." His brow creases. "...can you sit up?"

He bites his lip, tenses his muscles, and tries to heave himself up on his hands. It doesn't quite work, but when Yugi leans in, catches his shoulders, and tugs him backwards, they manage to shuffle him into a position that's kind of a cross between sitting and reclining, and judging by how breathless that action makes him, that's about as good as things will probably get right now.

Water? he asks again, softly prodding at the silvery-gold brightness that is his aibou to all of his senses but vision, and Yugi starts, glancing down at the mess at his feet with an embarrassed blush.

"Oh, right..." There's some fumbling he can't see, the twist of plastic on plastic, and he lets his eyes drift shut, feeling warm and content. Everything still hurts, but the ache is dull, and his aibou is distracting enough to make the pain remote and unimportant.

Hey, Yugi murmurs again, and he blinks his eyes open to look up at him, smiling a little in greeting.

Aibou, he answers, happy that this remains, happy that the puzzle is close enough to touch even if he's not quite capable of that action yet, and extremely happy about the sopping wet... whatever that's clutched in Yugi's hand. Erm... what?

"Huh?" He blinks a little. "Oh! Um... grandpa suggested it, in case you couldn't... you know, with a cup. And he's right, we'd probably wind up spilling everywhere, but this way we can just get some of it wet and probably not drip, so. Um. It's a sponge."

He casts a rueful look down at his useless hands, sprawled out on the couch, and blinks back up at the brown thing. And what do I do with it?

"Well, erm, here." And suddenly he's got a faceful of the thing, wet and heavy and very very brown.

Aibou, what?! he splutters, trying to recoil and not really succeeding.

Yugi yanks it back a bit, sheepish enough that he can recognize it without looking at him, "Uh, you bite down and... um, suck? It's just water, I promise."

He eyes the sopping sponge warily. Pathetic and silly and an embarrassment if the story ever gets out his reputation will never be the same, but the gods damn it all he's thirsty and he wants water now and aibou had better not be giggling at him. Had better not be. Yes, I can see you, and you're a terrible actor.

"Promise I won't tell, you know that," Yugi murmurs, amused and exasperated all at once. "Now drink."

He gives him a baleful glare, but closes his mouth around the sodden thing, and who gives a flying fuck if he looks ridiculous or cares about how strange it tastes because the water is water and it's there and it's so good. Several blissful moments later, however, Yugi yelps and draws his fingers away, looking wounded, and he's left to mourn the loss of his water supply.

"No biting!"

He eyes the now only slightly damp sponge with narrowed eyes. Water is good. More?

"I can't believe you bit me," Yugi mutters sourly, untwisting the cap on the bottle of water and carefully rewetting the sponge. "Feeling better, are you?" He considers this for a moment, frowning slightly. His limbs still feel too heavy to move, he can already feel his eyelids starting to droop - again?! - and his mouth and throat feel mercifully cool and moist. Un. Better, he murmurs, still thirsty. How long did I sleep?

"Uhm..." And the sponge is back, and he latches on greedily, not caring how like a child he looks, because despite the indignity of it all his aibou won't ever tell or tease, even if he does shift the sponge around more quickly for the sake of his fingers. "You woke up at about ten, and it's about ten now, so twelve hours today."

Yugi drops the sponge again once he's done, then crouches on the floor next to him, and he shifts his head around to look at him, annoyed when he won't meet his eyes. Aibou... he growls, already drowsy again and hating it fiercely, What's going on?

"I'm not sure," is all he says, and reaches over to brush his fingers through the knotted mass of his hair again.

Surely you can tell me something, he mutters, eyes fluttering shut despite his best efforts to keep them open.

"...we're okay," he murmurs softly, and if his grip tightens just a fraction too much, he's already much too tired to care.

Are we? The world's getting soft and fuzzy again, melting and soft and warm, and if Yugi says anything, it comes from far away, garbled and incoherent, lost in a wash of velvet darkness.

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Part Five
Story Home

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