Carry On

A/N: I think my writing skills took a vacation without me. I simply could not do it. It wasn’t a difficulty in getting the ideas onto paper, I couldn’t get the ideas. I couldn’t see the words anymore. It wasn’t writer’s block, something far more durable and menacing than that. It was very frustrating. So I went on the hunt for really good fanfiction. Discovered my love for Naruto and Death Note slash fiction and, having read some amazing work, am finally able to get myself writing again. All hail fanfiction!

Oh, and apologies of course. I never meant for there to be so much time between updates. I’m sorry!

Enjoy!

~ Ocean

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Carry On
By Ocean

Chapter Twelve – Unresolved Turmoil

For a man who should have been deathly tired and happily sleeping, Yuugi was a man who was caffeine-jittery and stubbornly awake. Atemu was asleep, had been for quite some time, and Yuugi decided that if at least one of them was sleeping then all was right with the world.

It always surprised him how dark his room was at night. With the blinds closed the moon’s rays couldn’t pass through the window, and the lone streetlamp on his block was too far away to be noticed. The blackness wasn’t so complete that his eyes couldn’t adjust to at least see the faint outlines of the forms in his room, but it was enough to only make silhouettes visible. This allowed his mind to wander without visual distractions which, considering it was Yuugi, weren’t deterrents anyway.

The sex had been fantastic. Not the best he had ever had, mind you, but phenomenal none the less. Atemu had shed all pretenses and bared himself completely to Yuugi, willingly providing all that the younger man had asked for since the moment of their ride in that ridiculous elevator. The Egyptian had been seriously methodical, though that didn’t detract in the slightest the pure passion, sincerity, and overall longing that he’d poured into Yuugi, who had proven to be a bottomless pit. The touches, the breaths, the caresses and kisses and movement against each other had been surreal, affecting body and mind, fantasy and reality. Yuugi had been in pure bliss during the entire event.

And when it was all over, when they were facing each other, noses touching sporadically in response to the harsh breaths that shook their bodies and heated the other’s face, hair parted in distinct pieces due to the sweat that coated every inch of them Yuugi would have been able to say, had he been asked, that he was happy. Truly, truly happy.

The fact that Atemu fell sound asleep a mere moment afterwards was inconsequential. Let the man sleep, Yuugi thought, for he was terminally happy and didn’t need the other’s attention at the moment.

Yuugi rolled over on his side to face Atemu who, in his sleep, had drifted to the other side of the bed on his stomach. That handsome face was turned away from him unfortunately, but it did allow Yuugi the opportunity for quiet observation. Pillowing one arm beneath his head Yuugi reached out with his free hand, curling his fingers into the thick strands of hair that reminded him curiously of feathers as he drew his knees to his stomach and sighed in contentment. He was confident his actions wouldn’t disturb the heavy sleeper. Experience had taught him as much.

What a surprise the evening had been. Never had he expected such a confession to come from the courteous stranger that lived in his home and shared his bed nightly. When he’d been summoned he hadn’t had any more expectation than a continued mending of the rift between them, perhaps Atemu finally relenting to baking him more delicious apple desserts. But to tell him that he loved him…

Yuugi sighed through his nose, letting his fingers slip from Atemu’s auburn tresses and rest on the bed between them. Not in friendship, not in companionship or gratitude, but loved him in that special way that Yuugi had convinced himself he only believed to be true in movies and romance novels. The admission had been so abhorrently rough and unstructured that Yuugi didn’t doubt for a moment it was true.

Someone else had fallen in love with him. Part of him was sobered by this. But part of him fought to remain indifferent and he couldn’t fathom why.

Yuugi’s exploration of this notion was interrupted when he felt the sheets pull against him as Atemu stirred. His eyes watched the man lift his head from his pillow, hesitate a moment, and then push the sheets from himself and half-walk, half-stumble out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom. Yuugi smirked into his arm, eyes glinting in mischief as he weighed the pros and cons of waking Atemu long enough to inform him of his nakedness. He decided against it in the end. No one in his house would be up at this time of night anyway and, by the time he was actually willing to move from his comfortable bed, Atemu had returned and was resettling himself. The man was no more awake than he had been before nature called him, and Yuugi found great humor watching how clumsily he fell back onto the mattress and instantly resumed sleeping.

At least now Atemu was facing him, with one arm stretched unknowingly in his direction. Yuugi took the opportunity to scoot a little closer, enough so that his chest barely brushed against Atemu’s arm, and that with little effort his fingers could trace the underside of his partner’s chin. Not that he allowed himself this last touch, but it was there if he wanted to indulge in it. Once Atemu was settled again Yuugi’s thoughts returned to their previous path.

He’d loved before. Loved too often, probably, if one were to listen to the poets and writers and musicians. The problem was, Yuugi didn’t believe that he had ever loved in the way that Atemu had professed to love him. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t believe in it. He didn’t believe anyone would want to love in such a consuming manner. The commitment such an attachment would create was something he couldn’t fathom being comfortable with enduring.

When Allen had told him it was alright to be in love with Atemu and Yuugi had agreed, this wasn’t the kind of love he thought they’d been talking about.

At this moment, Yuugi was happy. But this happiness always followed sex, always lingered around the bed that held the warmth and scent of the strenuous activity. Maybe, once in a while, that joy would follow him into the next day, or week, but that was stretching the moment to the point of being ludicrous. The intensity, the passion, the raw emotion present during intercourse simply could not survive outside the event. One thing Yuugi had never learned despite his efforts was how to keep the interest outside the bedroom.

Hmm. That was an interesting thought. Was he really so focused on the sex? Because it was easier, and understandable, and predictable? The notion didn’t sit well with him and he squirmed into the mattress, unwittingly bumping into Atemu who frowned in his sleep. Honestly, to even allow his thoughts to travel along that road. He must be delusional from his orgasm if Honda’s and Jounochi’s words from a week ago were coming back to haunt him tonight.

He did not exist and interact with others simply for sex. He wasn’t that damn shallow.

He wasn’t-

Yuugi’s opened eyes widened further and he pushed up onto the arm he had been resting on, gaze unseeing as his mouth hung open in shock. Hadn’t Atemu hinted at the same thing before he’d left for Hawaii? How had he put it…?

‘Do you value yourself so little?’

He turned his stare to Atemu, the words ringing in his head like an obnoxious smoke alarm. This was not an issue of self-value! People didn’t just go around having sex to prove themselves worthy of – of anything!

The thought repulsed him, made him sick to his stomach and his teeth grind against each other in defiance. He felt the urge to punch Atemu in the shoulder for even suggesting such a concept, only managing to restrain himself when the target of his anger spoke.

“Whatever’s bothering you let it go,” Atemu grumbled none-to-politely as he brought his arm up to hug his pillow and tried to hide his face in its comfort. “It’s too damn late to be introspective.” A deep sigh, a moment of silence, and a gripping of his pillow later and you never would have known Atemu had been awake enough to manage a coherent sentence.

A coherent, perceptive sentence. Damn him. The urge to punch the man doubled. Yuugi satisfied himself with a poignant scowl before resting his head back on his own pillow.

Now he had a headache, and it was all his fault.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, Yuugi made sure he bounced the mattress as he flopped onto his side facing away from Atemu, satisfied when he heard the other man grunt in frustration. As he released his breath, however, some of the – well, he could only call it hysterical – tension released its hold on him and he found himself calming. Yuugi had thought himself past these panic attacks long ago, especially after his first visit to the Hawaiian Islands. Allen had been a good influence on him even back then. Quick to react and slow to think Yuugi had been accustomed to sticking his foot in his mouth and chewing thoroughly on a regular basis until the older mathematician had shown him the benefits of restraint and consideration. Though there were moments that he reverted to his short-tempered ways, Yuugi wasn’t even close to being the hothead he’d been before completing college.

He brought a thumb to his mouth and held the nail between his teeth, brows furrowed in thought. Why had he allowed himself to go off like that? It was such a strange thing to do, and the timing was just so fucking ironic that he couldn’t bring himself to even twitch his lips in the semblance of a smile at it. To be laying in bed after sex with a ridiculously handsome man, a man who resembled kindness personified, a man he’d been trying to lay since the day after he met him, to have enjoyed it to the extent he had, only to rile himself up into conjuring insults that had never been spoken or intended and reacting to them was just stupid. It was sabotage.

Hn.

Sabotage, huh? Yuugi huffed and turned onto his back, both arms raised above his head and eyes looking somewhere towards the ceiling. It was another absorbing thought. He currently appeared to be plagued by them. He didn’t believe in love, but had experienced it tonight. Didn’t believe it could last outside the bedroom, yet had felt protective of it even when on another island, in another country. He’d agreed with Allen that it was okay to love Atemu, but he hadn’t meant that it was okay to love him because that type of love was false and delusional. He’d told Atemu that he’d give him more than sex if he’d just accept it, and to hell with it all if he hadn’t meant it at the time, but his offer had been left to wither and die in the air without pretense.

Atemu clearly loved him beyond all logical reason.

It wouldn’t surprise Yuugi if his little tantrum was his mind’s way of trying to deal with all the contradictions in his head.

Or maybe it was preparation? Maybe it was the start of him getting ready to push Atemu away and move on to the next person? The process was a slow one, as far as he was concerned, but it was possible that that was what he was doing. He’d done it before, many times.

Yuugi frowned. Not only did that notion not sound right, it made him angry to think of it. That was a surprise in itself. Thinking back on all the other affairs he’d had, Yuugi couldn’t think of one where he’d lain awake after sex questioning his values and beliefs. This just wasn’t something a sane person did after making love. You either giggled, had sex again, or went to sleep. You didn’t start psychoanalyzing yourself.

Impatient of the crazy thoughts in his head Yuugi pushed himself off the bed and walked around the end of the mattress to the bedside table. Shivering at the sudden chill the air in the room possessed he pulled out the drawer and rummaged inside, waiting to feel the soft material of Atemu’s fingerless gloves brush over his hand. He didn’t bother to be quiet about his search, ignoring the defeated sigh from the Egyptian who no longer believed he was going to get any sleep so long as Yuugi was Thinking. Eventually finding the gloves after a few false claims Yuugi pulled them onto his hands, lacing his fingers together to push the material down as far as it would go between his knuckles.

Once satisfied he closed the drawer out of habit and returned to bed by crawling over Atemu and pulling on his shoulder to force the other man onto his back. He was met with little resistance, though Atemu did keep his head beneath the pillow he’d buried it under when Yuugi had gotten out of bed. Yuugi pushed Atemu’s arms out of the way so he could yank the sheet out from between the two of them and wrap it around his own back. Situating himself on Atemu’s stomach with the sheet draped over him like a cape Yuugi plucked the pillow from the other man’s face and tossed it aside. Ignoring the closed-eye scowl he leaned forward and pressed his cheek against the side of his partner’s neck, providing a rough and quick nuzzle before burying his head beneath Atemu’s chin. When no move was made to embrace him Yuugi snorted and forced the man’s arms around his back, only then snuggling into the body he was using as a mattress and moving his hands purposefully up and down Atemu’s sides in apology.

“Sorry,” Yuugi mumbled into Atemu’s neck, placing a chaste kiss to the skin.

There was a sigh, and a barely audible “‘Sa’right” before Atemu pounced on the opportunity to go back to sleep. Yuugi closed his eyes and brought his hands up beneath Atemu’s arms, holding onto his chest. Even if sleep wasn’t going to come to him, he was determined to remain still right where he was and let the other man rest. It was too late for him to continue being an ass.

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The following morning did not bring clarity.

Nor did the morning after that.

Nor the morning after that.

It was becoming a bothersome routine that Yuugi had the distinct impression was going to be with him for the rest of his life if he didn’t get off his lazy butt and do something about it. That was the trouble though, of course. What could he do about a situation he didn’t understand?

They had sex one other time, with Yuugi playing the part of instigator to a quite surprised Atemu after a long day at the office. Yuugi had literally paid his family to be out of the house for at least three hours, politely demanding that they go to dinner and a movie and give him so much needed peace to figure out his life. He didn’t mention Atemu and he didn’t need to. Gina and Sugoroku and, indeed, even Sarah knew that something had happened between the two young men, an event drastic enough to send the otherwise happy Yuugi into a spiral of short fuses interspersed with moments of euphoria and impressive bouts of pouting. Atemu, though not withdrawn, had settled into a quiet, content, and unbelievingly placid man that far exceeded what the elder members of the Motou family had decided laid beneath his injured surface.

Atemu’s simple acceptance of the events that had transpired irritated Yuugi to no end. The man never asked for anything; not kisses, not touches, no ‘special’ time… hell, he wouldn’t even ask Yuugi for a cup of tea when he was bogged down in paperwork from the office. If only he had a dime for every time he’d had the real desire to slap Atemu for being so damn self-fulfilled, well, Yuugi would be a very rich man. He’d even gone so far as to try and pick a fight with the Egyptian if for no other reason than to get him to react in some way other than that frustratingly soft and sensual smile of his that made Yuugi’s heart skip and make him nearly forget why he was trying to pick a fight.

Gina had asked Yuugi what was bothering him so much one morning after he’d stomped into the kitchen and grunted what may have been a rude greeting. He seemed happy, Atemu seemed happy, and she and Sugoroku were happy for him, so why was he insisting on ruining it for everybody?

Sugoroku’s screen door once again became a victim and Yuugi had spent another morning fixing it. It was this that brought to his attention just how deplorable his temper had become if he was breaking things because his mother was accusing him of being happy. This was just getting foolish.

So here he sat, yet again with his trusted trio of friends, only this time they were all outside in the backyard soaking up the glazing afternoon sun. Jounochi was sprawled in a beach chair a few feet away from the patio table, sunglasses on and earphones in his ears as he listened to music he would never openly admit to liking. Anzu was sitting at the table working on her latest Sudoku book, Honda was trying to appear aloof next to her, and Yuugi was sitting on his butt towards the end of the yard, back to his friends, watering the few struggling plants his mother insisted on subjecting to her gardening skills. Every now and then he would pull on his gloves out of boredom.

“Did anyone bring snacks?” Jounochi asked. When his question was met with silence he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and eyed his friends. Anzu felt his gaze and looked up long enough to shrug, going immediately back to her puzzle, though she did spare a moment to kick Honda’s leg for a response.

“Didn’t think of it,” the brunette said. Honda turned his head towards Yuugi’s silent figure, brow wrinkling with his growing annoyance. “Don’t you have anything?”

Yuugi shrugged, twirling the hose in his hands and watching the flowing stream drench the dirt. “Haven’t been to the store.”

“So… okay, I guess,” Jounochi said, trying to bring some peace into the growing tension he could literally see forming between Honda and Yuugi’s back. “No biggie. I was just curious. Can feel the old stomach grumbling is all-”

“Why are we here Yuugi?” Honda demanded, words terse and readily belying his anger.

Yuugi’s back straightened but he didn’t turn around. “I just felt like having my friends around,” he said slowly. “You make it sound like there’s more to it than that.”

“Of course there is.” Honda turned in his seat, now facing Yuugi completely. “You haven’t wanted anything to do with us since you got back from Hawaii. You made that much clear at the airport.”

“Cool off,” Anzu said, her pencil halting its scratching in her Sudoku book as she peered at Honda from beneath her bangs. “We’re not here to fight. We’re not,” she emphasized when Honda glared at her. “Yuugi’s decisions are his own. This doesn’t affect us nearly as much as you’ve convinced yourself it does.”

Jounochi immediately stood from his beach chair in alarm. Whether or not they had come to Yuugi’s to fight, the expressions and body language of his friends was enough to alert him to the fact that a fight was going to be had nonetheless.

“Like hell it doesn’t affect us,” Honda said through gritted teeth, his hand gripping the table roughly and nearly pulling it off its legs. He looked at both Anzu and Jounochi in turn. “We’re loosing him to someone he doesn’t even know anything about! Doesn’t that bother you?!”

Anzu’s face flared in indignation, but before she was able to retaliate against Honda’s brash accusation she heard Yuugi laugh. The sound – almost inappropriate in its ability to sound both bitter and amused and altogether distraught – sliced through her and made her forget all words. Honda and Jounochi also found themselves stunned by their friend’s sudden shift in attitude.

Laughing until tears were coming out of his eyes Yuugi finally stood and faced his friends, paying no attention to where the hose was pointing and effectively wetting his own feet. “You’re such an ass, Honda,” he said while wiping his eyes, his laughter finally coming under control. “You’re right, but you’re an ass.” He took a deep breath and let his gaze drift over towards the alley. “I’ve let myself get all wrapped up in a man whose entire known history is that he’s from Egypt. Egypt, of all god-forsaken places. What the hell am I doing?”

Again, Yuugi stunned his friends. He wanted to keep laughing, madly and fully with all the rampaging emotion clawing at his chest and eyes and skin. Instead he reached down into his pocket and procured his beloved harmonica, tossing it carelessly into the air.

That insanely painful grin on his friend’s face was too much for Jounochi. Rolling up nonexistent sleeves he fisted his hands, marched over to Yuugi, looked him in the eye, and fully, unabashedly, punched him square across the jaw.

The harmonica flashed as it fell uncaught, accompanied by Anzu’s scream of horror and the thud of Yuugi’s body banging into the ground.

The water hose flew from Yuugi’s hand, spraying Jounochi before coming to a rest near the fence, well out of reach.

“Fuck Jounochi!” Honda shouted, rushing over to the blonde and forcefully shoving his shoulder to push him away from the man now lying prostrate in the dirt. “What the hell was that?!”

Jounochi ignored him, his glare never leaving Yuugi’s face, even as he struggled against Honda’s dynamic efforts to separate him from the man on the ground. He was sick of listening to this shit his friends were spouting. Sick of Honda’s unyielding stupidity about Atemu, his die-hard determination to make Yuugi see the man the way he did – as an enemy, a threat, someone to be feared, reviled, isolated and banished. Sick of Yuugi’s inconsistent mood swings, his wishy-washy acceptance of Honda’s words when for two and a half weeks he’d been Atemu’s most ardent protector. Jounochi was even sick of Anzu’s involvement, of her complacency concerning Atemu, her inaction against Honda’s anger, the secrets he was certain she was keeping about Atemu and Yuugi.

He was sick of it all.

Something had to be done to change things.

The only one who could change the crap that currently enveloped the group of friends was Yuugi.

And Yuugi, apparently, required some much needed sense beat into that damn thick head of his.

“What are you talking about?” Jounochi seethed through his clenched jaw. He was uninterested in Honda’s blathering in his ear about being out of control and Anzu’s beseeching eyes as she knelt next to Yuugi. All he knew was that Yuugi wasn’t looking at him. That was a good thing, for two reasons.

One, it meant Yuugi was listening to both his words and the punch he’d received.

Two, Jounochi would have punched him again if he had looked at him, pleadings from his friends be damned.

Yuugi, for his part, was able to recognize that any movement was going to further invoke Jounochi’s wrath and so was more than willing to remain on the ground until the violent vibrations emitting from the blond settled to a less threatening tone. He raised the back of his hand and pressed it against the corner of his mouth, suppressing a wince at the pressure applied to his swelling lips and jaw. His eyes narrowed at the corners with the taste of metal invading his mouth. He’d bitten his tongue pretty hard as a result of the punch, though the pain wasn’t nearly as vexing as the blood welling around his teeth. Swiping his tongue around his mouth to gather the liquid he swallowed, making a face at the flavor.

“That’s disgusting,” Yuugi muttered to himself.

“Are you alright Yuugi?” Anzu asked, startled when Yuugi brushed off her attempts to soothe him in favor of sitting with his knees bent and arms wrapped around them, head lowered. She turned her attention to the men standing above her, disapproval as well as disappointment lacing together in her voice. “What the hell is wrong with you two? Why are we still fighting like this?! This has nothing to do with us!”

“It doe-!”

“It doesn’t!” she interrupted Honda. Exasperation rolled off her like molasses, thick and heavy and reaching for any surface it could cling to. “This is between Yuugi and Atemu. Stop butting in! What do you have against him anyway?” She stood while she was talking, placing her hands on her hips in an effort not to reach for Honda and exact some violence of her own.

“Why are you defending him?!” Honda countered, having forgotten his efforts to restrain Jounochi in favor of continuing an argument he couldn’t – wouldn’t – let go of. “Have you even looked at him? He’s a foreigner! He won’t tell us anything about himself, he won’t stand up to us, he won’t deny that he’s simply using Yuugi until he gets bored and moves on, he –”

Yuugi chuckled under his breath at that one. Honda and Anzu didn’t hear him and continued their dance of accusing and defending Atemu, unaware that they were the only ones interested in their argument.

Atemu getting bored with him. This time Yuugi did laugh, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips. It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, and he’d heard some pretty weird shit.

Yuugi tilted his head when he felt, rather than saw, Jounochi kneel in front of him, his hair falling over his face and hiding the bruise that was rallying troops on his jaw.

“That hurt, you know,” he said quietly and without anger.

“Good,” Jounochi said. “Did it get through to ya?”

Yuugi shrugged. “Depends on the message you’re trying to send.”

Jounochi sighed harshly, pushing his hand into his hair and gripping the strands. “You can’t just give in to Honda like that. You know he’s stupid when he’s being paranoid.”

Yuugi was quiet for several moments. “It wasn’t him,” he said finally.

Jounochi eyed Yuugi carefully, watching for any clues that might alert him as to why Yuugi was suddenly pretending to be distant and disinterested in Atemu. He knew Yuugi’s penchant for changing his mind, but this wasn’t one of those times. Jounochi had watched them in the airport when Yuugi had come home from Hawaii. He’d seen the contentment of his best friend when he’d reached out and held Atemu, held him for several long moments before pulling back with a smile on his face.

He’d never seen Yuugi that happy before. Not when he wasn’t faking it for his friends.

“What happened?” Jounochi asked quietly. “Why are you running?”

Yuugi tensed, then relaxed, throwing his hand in front of him in defeat. “I have no fucking idea.”

“Want some friendly advice?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” Jounochi took hold of Yuugi’s wrist and forced the smaller man to his feet, unwilling to let him sit and sulk any longer. Anzu and Honda stopped their argument when they noticed, and the silence rained down on the group as they stared at Yuugi and Yuugi glared at Jounochi.

“Well?” Yuugi said.

Jounochi placed his hand on Yuugi’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Don’t.” He turned and walked back over to his beach chair, settling down and replacing his earphones.

“So what do you guys want on your pizza? I’m buying.” And with that Jounochi retreated into his music, satisfied with events.

“Don’t what?” Honda asked, turning on Yuugi. “What shouldn’t you do?”

Yuugi only distantly heard the question, resulting in his answer being curt and flat. “Run away from Atemu.” He paused, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. “And a lot of other things,” he added. “I’ve got some errands to run,” and thinking to do, he thought. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

“Wait Yuugi!” Anzu called out to his retreating back.

“Care to explain yourself?!” Honda shouted.

Yuugi shook his head. “Not to you, Honda.” He turned and glared over his shoulder, his old, confident self shinning through the haze of fear he’d allowed himself to get trapped in because of dense insecurities. “You don’t deserve one.”

“What about Anzu, huh? And Jounochi? They’ve been supporting you!”

“They don’t need one.”

“And him?” Honda tried in a last ditch effort to get Yuugi to stay and settle the argument. He failed.

Yuugi made certain to slam the screen door hard enough to break it as he entered the house.

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Atemu grimaced from his position at the kitchen table. That poor screen door really didn’t deserve to be his and Yuugi’s outlet.

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to be continued…