Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Nemo ❯ Seven ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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- Part Seven -

He opens his eyes to discover that his face is mashed against the carpet, he's inhaling the foul scent of his own underarm, and his left leg is strangely numb. He gives an experimental wiggle - bright-hot pain in his left leg, faint aches in his other limbs, but at least the pounding in his head has melted into a subdued throbbing - but then soft, familiar hands are rolling him over, pulling him close, and when he takes a long moment to blink, he finds that when he looks up again, he's staring up into dark, brilliant eyes.

Aibou, he says happily, then blinks again, pleased when the movement doesn't cause him any new pain, why are you upside down?

The answer is a tired, pleased giggle, and Yugi busies himself with tugging blankets and pajama tops back into their proper places. "I'm not," he says softly, "you are."

He considers this, then considers the softness that his head is resting on, and the conspicuous gleam of silver at Yugi's throat, and the marked lack of any heavy, ancient gold anywhere within his line of vision. It's a familiar trick, meant for those moments when having a rather pointy magical artifact dangling in front of one's belly is a bad idea, and he knows the puzzle has been slung backwards, so he must be using Yugi's lap as a pillow. A rare treat, and the only reason he's being so spoiled is Yugi's worry, but he's annoyed at himself for feeling badly enough that he can't really enjoy it.

I suppose that makes sense, he murmurs, and winds up with a faceful of black cotton and Yugi's tummy when he leans over farther to push the blankets out of the way. In any other situation, he would take advantage of his new corporeality to seek out all of Yugi's ticklish spots (discovered entirely by accident when Jounouchi affectionately tackled him without realizing that he had in fact grabbed the wrong Yugi), but at the moment, he's more concerned with breathing than with playing. "Erf."

"Huh?" A bright flash of inquiry, a white-gold startle, and now his head hurts all over again because Yugi's squeaked and pulled back and let him fall quite ungracefully to the floor.

He grits his teeth against the pain in his skull and leg and everywhere else, and manages to tilt his head and give his aibou a ferocious glare that is probably ruined by the fact that he looks and smells relatively like shit. Ouch, he says pointedly, not above being petty when everything hurts, and the look of chagrin that flashes over his face is enough to make him instantly forgive him.

"Sorry, sorry," Yugi murmurs, scootching forward again, and there's a lean, supple strength to him when he loops his arms around his middle and shoves him up into a sitting position against the couch. He's pleased to discover that his head does not loll this time, although there's a pounding against the inside of his eardrums that he certainly doesn't approve of, and he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and concentrates on making sure each limb moves when he wants it to.

His concentration is ruined when soft fingers touch his cheek, and he automatically tilts his face into Yugi's hand, quick enough that he can't pull away.

Yugi grins wryly at him, brandishing a damp cloth in his free hand. "You gonna sit still and let me do this?"

He eyes him. Did you sleep today?

There's suddenly a very trapped look on his face, and the first bloom of a blush is touching his cheeks, and - You slept in class?

Yugi groans and drops his head. "I got busted third period. Jounouchi kept detention with me and made me sleep."

He wants to laugh, but isn't quite sure it will work the way he wants, so he smirks at him, knowing Yugi won't have to look up to see.

"Oh, shut up," Yugi mutters, and swats lightly at him with the damp cloth. He leans into that too, and hides a smile when Yugi sighs and starts patting lightly at his face. "It was a long day. Slept most of it, had detention, came home. Um."

"Um," he repeats, not liking the thick raspiness of his voice, or the way his tongue doesn't seem to quite fit in his mouth again, and especially not liking the tone of that 'um'.

"...Ikindatoldthemaboutwhathappened."

He blinks, taking a moment to process the words, but it makes sense, of course, because they'd be concerned and want to know and Yugi, while very good at massively maddening denial, is not very good at lying. But still... And they aren't here?

Yugi hunches in a little on himself. "I... warned them off."

He thinks of his debilitated state, the tiredness that still echoes in Yugi's every movement, and finds a measure of relief in this. Thank you.

"...yeah," Yugi mumbles, and stares at the carpet like something more interesting than mere sleeping has been going on there lately.

He tries another wiggle, elated when his left leg (sharp, prickling pain, but pain means life, so it's a good thing, right?) complies. He prods Yugi in the side with a toe, rewarded with a squeak and a jump, and doesn't bother to hide his triumphant smirk.

Yugi's all shimmery-bright when he's flustered, and by the time he's fixed his hands on his hips and managed a scowl, the smirk has widened into a smug, lazy smile. The world is a pretty place when he has the leisure time and inclination to tease his aibou. "You - you -" a blink, and then Yugi lifts a finger and points it accusingly at his nose. "You are feeling better."

He considers this for a moment - throat, tongue, and mouth are all uncomfortably dry, left leg is tingling, and all other limbs are heavy with fatigue and ache, but it's considerably better than anything he's felt before. I - yes.

There is nothing more frightening than the evil little smile that's beginning to curve Yugi's lips. "Much better?"

The couch behind him and the fact that he would probably only succeed in landing on his face are the only things preventing him from running. "Erm," he says intelligently, and perhaps aibou-baiting isn't the best way to get Yugi to play with him, especially when his new body is still being so damn inconvenient, but he's feeling - not good, but less badly, and he doesn't want him to worry so he'll act if he must - at least differently, and the best distraction for the both of them is a game with no rules and no boundaries, just playing. "I... think so?" The words are a rasp, and fit imperfectly on his tongue, but he's proud that he's managed a coherent sentence, even if it does sound alien to his ears.

"Good." Yugi gives him a pretty, sunny smile that is also positively demonic.

The innocent act is a damn lie, because his aibou while being sweet and gentle and eternally giving also has a tendency to shove him around like he is a large and rather unruly pet. (Sometimes, on very rare occasions, he even deserves it, but he prefers not to think about that very often.)

"I'll go get grandpa so he can help you with your bath," Yugi says cheerfully, and makes his escape while he's staring blankly forwards, slackjawed with horror.

Then, slowly, without understanding why, he's laughing, hard enough that his head is pounding, hard enough that his body is shaking, hard enough that he almost doesn't hear the footsteps, but he recognizes the warm thump of Yugi, shaking with high-pitched laughter, hitting the carpet and then swatting at him fiercely with a pillow, and Yugi doesn't shove him away when he reaches over and hauls him close, and if their laughter is a bit too hysterical and far too loud, at least it's real, everything is real, and he really really really needs to bathe because he absolutely stinks.

Oh gods above, they're arguing and they're playing and Yugi is a bundle of silvery-gold heat and power and laughter and he's alive!

Laughing makes everything ache harder, more fiercely than before, but he can't stop, so he doesn't.

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