Carry On

Disclaimer: Plain and simple. I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

A/N: Hey, at least it took less time than the last update! The writer’s block finally broke down and the story is flowing again. It’s not going to be too much longer, there’s really only one more major scene that needs to take place and then I need to come up with a satisfactory ending… I thank you all for your continued patience and support with this story. I hope I do not disappoint you!

Enjoy!

~ Ocean

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Carry On
By Ocean

Chapter Thirteen – Lateral Movement


Looking at the angle which the screen door hung, the dinged rim that didn’t quite fit into the frame anymore and, taking into account the squeal of protest it now emitted every time it was used, Atemu wasn’t certain that the old thing should be saved. Perhaps it was time to retire the door and bring in a stronger, younger replacement, one that would be better able to withstand his and Yuugi’s tantrums.

He knew this wasn’t going to happen, especially with the murderous look Sugoroku had on his face as he examined his beloved door, but it still sounded like a good idea to him.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Sugoroku grumbled. He stood inside the landing, hands on his hips, a black work bandana tied over his hair to keep it out of his way while he scrutinized the door. His eyes lowered from the hinge he’d been inspecting to give a meaningful stare to the man standing on the other side of the screen, out in the yard. “Can’t you throw punches at each other like normal men?”

Atemu smiled in apology.

Sugoroku huffed, kneeling down so he could reach his toolbox. “Can’t be helped, I suppose.” Finding the tool he was after he began the delicate operation of salvaging his door.

Atemu watched quietly, his hand clutching his elbow as it hung limply at his side, offering support and company while the elder man worked. There wasn’t much else for him to do on this rare full day off for him. He had planned on running some errands, but Yuugi had – ahem, taken that task upon himself the previous day. In fact, Yuugi had down right growled at Atemu for having the audacity to offer assistance in the running of those errands. At another time he may have found the younger man’s defiance amusing, however considering Yuugi was just coming off an ugly face-off with his friends, Atemu had known better than to tread on already broken ground.

He sighed through his nose, thoughts trailing to the argument he’d unwittingly overheard. He hadn’t heard the whole thing, of course. He’d been in the kitchen throughout most of its duration. But he had heard some of the louder, angrier pieces, and had seen the foul mood Yuugi’d been in when he’d stomped up the stairs to grab his keys before marching out of the house, pausing only long enough to give him an odd glance that was equal parts annoyance, surprise, guilt, and, strangest of all, reproachful.

He twisted his mouth to the side. Atemu was no fool. He knew perfectly well that Yuugi and his friends had fought about him again. It was rather old and he was losing his patience with them. Though he could understand why Anzu, Jounochi, and Honda would be wary of him in the beginning, he couldn’t fathom why he was still such an instigator of conflict by merely existing. Frankly it wasn’t even worth his time to figure it out. Whatever was going on was their problem and he wanted no part of the deliberations.

What he did want to figure out was why Yuugi was having such a difficult time. The young man vehemently denied it, of course, which only made Atemu more riled. The obviousness of Yuugi’s inner turmoil was laughable and altogether perturbing. And it had all started mere hours after they’d slept together.

If Atemu had known this would be the result of sex between them he never would have asked Yuugi to spend the night with him. Let alone spend two.

Atemu stepped forward and took hold of the screen door at Sugoroku’s prompting, balancing it as the other man worked.

He missed his friend. He missed the man who appeared to enjoy spending time with him, coaxing him into smiles and laughter and a confidence in himself he didn’t think he would be able to possess again. He didn’t like how Yuugi seemed to want nothing more from him than a fight, or an admission, or whatever the hell it was the short and intense encounters between them were to be called. He didn’t like the fake smiles, the forced good-humor, and he certainly didn’t like how, after spending a day yelling at and ignoring him, Yuugi would appear out of nowhere and pin him into a kiss that was raw and passionate and genuine.

During those few blissful seconds when Yuugi’s mouth was on his, Atemu truly felt at peace.

But as soon as he’d pull away Yuugi would go back to glaring at and antagonizing him. He’d even been punched in the shoulder once after a kiss for, apparently, not showing enough emotion during it.

How the hell was he supposed to show anything other than surprise when he would innocently be reading a book before being tackled, attacked, kissed, groped, released, and reprimanded, all in the matter of one minute?

… he wasn’t aware he was smiling until Sugoroku cleared his throat at him for drifting off and letting the door bump the elder in the backside. His eyes widened in embarrassment and he secured his grip on the door, stumbling over his apology.

Well, he supposed, there really was no reason to worry himself with introspection that wouldn’t provide answers. Whatever was going on was happening in Yuugi’s head and trying to guess at what he was going through was a futile endeavor. He’d be told sooner or later. One of the many things Atemu had learned about Yuugi was that, as much as he liked keeping his secrets, he liked just as much to share them. Though if that was just with him, which sounded egotistical and made Atemu uncomfortable, or if Yuugi always relented confessed to everyone he didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

The mood swings. The secrets. The random attacks. The hyper-ness, the confrontations, the pouting and self-righteous pity. The genuine caring for others he tried to hide behind a mask of indifference spliced with momentary sparks of interest. It was all Yuugi. And though there were some aspects of his character that Atemu wished the younger man would curtail, if only slightly, he wouldn’t change him for the world. He was Yuugi.

That was all that really mattered.

Of course, on the other hand, he was Atemu. That was the real thorn in this tale, now, wasn’t it? Sure it was. Yuugi wasn’t the one doing anything wrong.

“There now, I think that’ll hold until the next time you two have a roe,” Sugoroku said, humor underlying his tone as he gathered his tools. He turned laughing eyes towards the younger man he had grown quite fond of over the weeks, concern floating over him when he saw the distant, clouded look on the other’s features.

“Atemu?” he asked gently.

Atemu started out of his thoughts. “What? Oh,” he said, noticing that Sugoroku was through with the door. He pulled on it, testing its strength. “Feels good.” He forced a smile that didn’t reach his voice. “Think it would be a good idea to add more to it, though, like maybe an electric current? Might keep me and Yuugi away from it for awhile, even if I am a slow learner.”

Sugoroku frowned at the comment he was certain was another dig Atemu was taking at himself. Anger pooled in his stomach at his grandson. How could Yuugi be so self-centered as to not see what this damn phase he was going through was doing to Atemu? That after all the work all of them had put into convincing the Egyptian that he was valuable, important, decent, and wanted, that he was slowly, internally reverting back into the defeated boy he’d been when they’d first met him?

Controlling himself enough not to allow a seething breath to escape between his teeth, Sugoroku disregarded his tools and caught Atemu’s attention by taking the door out of his hands and holding it open for him.

“I was going to stop by Gina’s bakery and kidnap her for lunch. You coming with me? I hear they have a new apple pastry that Yuugi’s just been dying to try.”

Atemu blinked, and then shook his head in amusement. No wonder Yuugi wore a mask all the time. His grandfather was one perceptive bastard.

“Sure, why not?” he said, shrugging. He smirked. “If Yuugi’s been dying to try a new pastry, well, who am I to deny him?”

Sugoroku laughed as he stepped aside so Atemu could enter the dwelling. “You’re probably the only one who can.” He thought about this for a moment. “And survive unscathed,” he added. He grinned at Atemu’s answering snort.

“I don’t hold near the sway over him you guys seem to think I do.”

Sugoroku nodded knowingly, grinning in triumph.

“Of course you don’t Atemu. Of course.”

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Yuugi was losing a battle against a very well prepared jar of pears and he was in no good mood because of it.

“Yuugi? I was wondering what you thought about ah -- right, never mind I’ll ask you later.”

Yuugi hadn’t been in a good mood to begin with, but now he was even more pissed off that Atemu would be so easily dissuaded from a conversation because of a simple, bitter glare over the shoulder.

“Get your ass back here,” Yuugi grumbled, postponing his battle by slamming the jar on the counter and turning around to face the doorway.

“No thanks!” Atemu called from the other room, making his way towards the hallway. “I rather feel like not having my head bit off today, if it’s all the same to you.”

Yuugi grit his teeth and marched stoically out of the kitchen. “What the hell?” he demanded. “Just say what you were going to say!”

Atemu paused outside their shared bedroom, raising his head from the newspaper in his hand and turning his body so he could look the younger man in the eye. He observed Yuugi’s fuming stance for several moments before reaching a decision.

“If you’re so eager to fight find someone else,” he said, his voice monotonous. Before Yuugi had a chance to respond he walked into the bedroom and closed the door decisively behind him.

Yuugi’s mouth snarled against the insane desire he had to break down his on door, but he bit his tongue with restraint he didn’t know he had and returned to the battle in the kitchen, smacking an innocent soda can along the way.

The pear jar never knew what hit it.

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Atemu sighed, his back pressed against the bedroom’s door and his arms loose at his sides, his fingers nearly losing their grip on the newspaper.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to interact with Yuugi on any level other than resentment. The man appeared set on arguing with him at every given opportunity, and damn it all if Atemu didn’t feel himself itching for a fight because of it. But he wasn’t going to indulge in the obvious fit. He absolutely reused. Because he knew, in his heart, that whatever they fought about would not be what they possibly needed to fight about, and that the clash would do nothing more than affirm whatever suspicion or insecurity Yuugi was keeping undisclosed.

It’s not fair, Atemu thought as his knees bent and he allowed himself to slide down to the floor, propped against the door with his head tilted back as far as it could go. Couldn’t they have enjoyed each other’s company a little longer? He’d always known that Yuugi would one day pull away from him, that it was inevitable because the young man was a free spirit with a heart and attention span to match. But he knew Yuugi cared about him, and he’d hoped…

He lowered his eyes from the ceiling to stare listlessly at the carpet. He’d played himself the fool, and he’d done it well.

Anyway, if Yuugi thought that a fight would hasten Atemu’s departure or, perhaps, free himself to start looking elsewhere, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Atemu had never run because of a fight. He was too intelligent for that. And Yuugi had always been free to leave him behind.

Chuckling mirthlessly Atemu collected himself and went to the bed, sitting on its edge and opening the paper in his hands. If he kept tripping himself up like this with silly ambitions he was never going to survive it when Yuugi moved on to someone new.

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“Yuugi? What a surprise!”

The last thing Gina has expected after closing down the bakery, standing in the chill night air and locking the door behind her, was to see her son leaning comfortably against the side of a beautiful BMW that glimmered like a firework in the light from the streetlamps. Not only did it mean that she wouldn’t have to walk home tonight, seeing as how her car had revealed a dead battery that morning, but that she’d finally be able to spend some quality time with her son.

Gina was also quite pleased with the fact that Yuugi had even considered picking her up in the first place without her having to ask him. Though it was plausible that her father had made the suggestion to Yuugi, evidence against that argument was the blue machine her son stood so proudly in front of.

Yuugi greeted his mother with a cheeky and triumphant grin, holding the passenger door open for her before walking around the car and entering himself.

Having never ridden in the Beamer Gina took a moment to admire dark wood accents and the leather upholstery, running her hands lightly against the foreign, yet smooth and inviting surfaces. She couldn’t keep from smiling at how nice it was to be in such an opulent automobile with her precious son who, despite his gruff treatment towards everyone else, had approached something more than cordiality with his mother. The effort was all Gina had ever asked for, and she relished in the possibility that she and her son could have a healthy, loving relationship one day.

“You like?” Yuugi asked, winking at his mother when he noticed her admiration of the car from the corner of his eyes. “It’s a sweet ride.” He gunned the engine, which purred happily in response, to prove his point before pulling away from the curb.

“It’s lovely,” Gina agreed. She watched the way her son handled the machine; one hand caressing the steering wheel while the accompanying elbow rested against the doorframe, his other hand massaging the gearshift located between the two front seats and covered in the same expensive wood that trimmed the doors and dashboard. He appeared to be so comfortable in a car that Gina would be afraid to drive for fear of damaging it somehow.

“Atemu let’s you drive it often?” she asked, real affection coloring her words for the Egyptian for allowing her son to have this moment of happiness.

The grin on Yuugi’s face lessened, but did not fade completely. “Pretty much whenever I want, so long as he doesn’t need it.” He huffed lightly, amusement temporarily present on his face. “Heaven forbid someone working for Kaiba Corporations take the bus.”

“Now don’t be ungrateful Yuugi,” Gina scolded, though the reprimand was minimized by her laughter at the truth of the statement. “He doesn’t need to let you drive it at all.”

“I know.” Yuugi shifted in his seat, and Gina caught the movement for what it was.

“What’s wrong dear?” she asked softly, noticing the pull of Yuugi’s features into a attentive and confused frown.

“Hmm? Oh.” Yuugi shook his head lightly, stepping off whatever path he’d been traveling to return to the here and now. “It’s nothing, mom. Guy stuff,” he added in an attempt to discourage his mother from inquiring further.

Being a mother, however, allotted Gina certain immunity to such tactics. She hesitated before voicing her concern, betting on her and Yuugi’s growing relationship that she could probe further without causing damage. “A certain guy, Yuugi?”

Yuugi scowled unknowingly.

Bingo.

Gina rolled her lips upon themselves in thought, trying to determine the softest and easiest way to discover what was happening between her two favorite – her favorites? indeed they were – her two boys and how she could best offer advice that Yuugi would welcome. She fiddled idly with the clasp of her purse that she’d set in her lap, clicking her nails against the metal softly.

“Yuugi?” she ventured. She wasn’t happy to see the grip on the steering wheel tighten. “Has he…?”

“He doesn’t do anything,” Yuugi growled. He sighed harshly in an effort to restrain his temper, rolling his head along his shoulders. “No mom,” he said, answering the question Gina proposed, “he hasn’t hurt me.”

Though she hadn’t thought Atemu would, it was with a mother’s relief she heard her son proclaim the other man’s innocence.

“Earlier today,” Gina began after a long moment of silence during which Yuugi took out his frustrations verbally on an unfortunate pedestrian, “your grandfather and Atemu came by and took me out to lunch.” She paused here to smile at the memory, missing the surprised and curious look her son gave her. “It was really nice of them. It made a hard day a little easier.”

“Why was it a hard day?” Yuugi asked, his tone muted in an effort to hide his genuine concern.

“Oh, this and that,” Gina waved off easily. “One of those days where customers are in a bad mood before they even come to the bakery. I’m just an easy target behind the counter.”

She was both stunned and touched when the car’s engine roared at the stoplight. Was Yuugi protective on her behalf?

“Well,” Yuugi said as though he hadn’t gunned the engine in indignation, “I’m glad grandpa and Atemu were able to take you away from that for awhile.”

“Mm,” Gina agreed. “Honey, can I ask you something?”

Yuugi tensed then relaxed; an act so quick that his mother almost missed it. “Sure mom, what is it?”

Gina steeled herself before voicing the concern she’d had for several days now. “Is - … do you think Atemu’s alright?”

“Atemu?” Yuugi echoed, his brows knitting in uncertainty. “Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?”

When Gina didn’t immediately answer, instead allowing the silence to infiltrate the conversation, Yuugi realized exactly how fast he’d answered that question and how distant his response had been. His mother certainly wasn’t going to be satisfied with an answer that careless. And, to be honest, Yuugi wasn’t happy with it either. Was Atemu alright? It was such an odd question for his mother to ask –

“Yuugi!”

Snapping his attention back to the road Yuugi was able to slam on the breaks in time to keep from rear-ending the car in front of him at the stoplight. It didn’t take much convincing for him to agree with Gina that perhaps he should pull over to the side of the road while they continued their conversation.

“Why do you ask?” Yuugi queried after killing the engine.

“He just doesn’t seem like himself anymore.” Gina undid her seatbelt and turned in her seat, back pressed against the door, so she could face her son. “He was so happy there for awhile. You remember, right? He smiled and laughed and teased all of us without mercy. Just like you used too.”

Yuugi hung his head as his mother talked, his palms turned up in his lap, not liking what she had to say, though if that was because he felt she was butting in or because she was speaking the truth he wasn’t sure yet.

“But now he seems so sad again, like he did when he first came to us.” Gina shook her head in frustration. “I don’t understand! Did something happen? Has he said anything to you?”

“No,” Yuugi said.

“Do you have any ideas then?” Gina pressed, authentic concern lifting her voice into a higher pitch than normal. She shoved herself into the seat when Yuugi didn’t instantly respond. “You two didn’t fight? You didn’t have an argument or a misunderstanding or something?”

“No,” Yuugi repeated, bristling. “He won’t fight with me.”

“He won’t- ” Gina understood the admission of attempting to fight. “What have you been trying to fight about??”

Yuugi finally lifted his head and turned towards his mother, who had to struggle against recoiling from the rage on his face. “That’s not your business mom! Do I ask you what you and grandpa fight over? I don’t want to know!”

Gina didn’t apologize for the simple fact that she knew it wouldn’t be accepted or heard by her son in his current irate state. “We don’t try to bring you into our arguments Yuugi.”

“You don’t have to.” Yuugi huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and turned pointedly away. “You guys walk into the room I’m in to yell at each other. I can’t tune you out no matter how hard I try.”

Gina was about to protest before she realized that he was right. She and Sugoroku did have the tendency to gravitate towards Yuugi whenever a fight was brewing between them. She didn’t know why, though if she took the time to think about it she was certain an answer – and an entirely selfish one at that – would come to her, and quickly. They would never admit it to Yuugi for fear of giving him even more control over them than he already had because of their love for him, Gina and Sugoroku relied heavily on the youngest member of the family to be the strong, reliant, and above all intelligent one amongst them.

“I’m sorry dear,” Gina said truthfully. It was an unfair and unnecessary burden to place upon her son. She had had some inclination of what she and her father were doing, but to actually hear the pain it was causing Yuugi was quite different. “I’m sorry.”

Yuugi didn’t respond at first, but after several tense moments passed he took a deep breath and released it. “Well,” he said, uncomfortable with what he was about to say and hunching his shoulder to his ear in nervousness. “I… can’t say I’m completely innocent in all that anyway. I could, you know, leave the room or something.”

Gina was speechless. Yuugi was apologizing to her? In this situation? Her heart pounded painfully in her chest with happiness and adoration, both for her son and for Atemu. Yuugi had grown so much in the short time he’d been home, and she knew, without a doubt, that most of that change had been instigated by a desire to please Atemu.

“What’s going on Yuugi?” Gina asked again, confident that Yuugi was ready and willing to share his problem with her.

Yuugi’s eyes clenched shut, his fingers digging into the muscles of his biceps. “I don’t know mom,” he said, very quietly. Honestly, he hadn’t even noticed Atemu’s decline as being anything other than a purposeful attempt to spite him. “I’m such a selfish idiot!” he scolded himself under his breath.

“Now now, don’t say things like that.”

Yuugi peaked at his mother from beneath his bangs. “Even when it’s true?”

Gina began shifting in her seat, repositioning herself so she could buckle her seatbelt. There was the briefest hint of a smile on her lips, both happy and sad as she finally realized why her two favorite boys were hurting. She nodded her head towards Yuugi when he made no move to restart the car, indicating that she was ready for them to continue the drive home.

“Relationships are hard, Yuugi. Everyone makes mistakes in the beginning, and you’re going to continue making mistakes. It’s part of life. And you haven’t exactly had the best role models in this area between your grandfather and me.”

Yuugi pursed his lips before relenting and reaching for the keys, turning them and coaxing the engine to begin its purr. He didn’t put the car in drive, however, because there was one more thing he wanted to ask his mother.

“Do you regret having me?” he whispered, eyes on the road in front of him.

Gina mirrored his posture, eyes fixed on the road, her voice confident and leaving no room for question. “Never, Yuugi. Not once.”

“And the one-night stand?”

Gina closed her eyes, though her head remained high. “I cannot say I regret the circumstances, Yuugi, because then I wouldn’t have you. But,” she paused, making sure to breathe, “I wish I had made a better choice.”

“A better choice,” Yuugi murmured, his hand resting on the gear shift. “Not the easy one, right?”

“It rarely is.” Gina grinned playfully. “Atemu bought something for you at the bakery today.”

“Something with apples in it if he knows what’s good for him.”

“He does.”

Nodding, Yuugi pulled the car into gear and merged into traffic.

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He looked at the phone in his hand, giving himself one last opportunity to change his mind. Of course, Yuugi had never been one to change his mind unless there was good reason, and he didn’t consider indecision to be one, so this hesitation was ludicrous and he moved his fingers into action. The phone only rang once before it was answered.

“Yeah?”

“Honda, we need to talk.”

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The next day, late in the afternoon but not so late as to see the hint of the setting sun, Yuugi was lounging in the family room, flipping through a science magazine. Atemu wasn’t due home until much later in the evening, and Yuugi was determined to take the time he had to himself to resolve some of his personal issues and, finally, once he was home, have a discussion with the other man. Not a fight, not a release, not a tantrum, but an actual, true, exchanging of ideas and opinions that, hopefully, would help Yuugi figure out what the hell was going on.

Suffice it to say that when Atemu came stomping up the stairs, not having even taken the time to remove his shoes, clutching his briefcase in one hand and what appeared to be an old piece of paper in the other, scowling and swearing to himself under his breath, Yuugi was struck dumb with shock.

He was about to open his mouth when Atemu swung his arm, releasing his briefcase in mid-arc to let it fly down the hallway and slam into the wall. The scraping sound of the metallic knobs on the end of the briefcase was worse than nails on a chalkboard; it was like screws that get caught beneath a heavy object and dragged against concrete. Yuugi jumped out of the recliner, the magazine forgotten as he ran over to Atemu, caught between the dual urges of hugging the man from behind in an effort to restrain his temper and shouting out his annoyance at the outburst.

“Atemu!” he voiced in an odd, hushed and concerned shout that strangled him until he was forced to choke it out. Yuugi brought his hand to his throat in mild surprise at the sound he’d emitted, but quickly shook it off when he noticed that Atemu had not reacted to his voice. Clearing his throat he tried again. “Até!”

The pet name was able to penetrate through the haze of anger that clouded Atemu’s senses. His breathing was harsh and quick, and it took some effort for him to force a swallow of air down his throat in an effort to calm himself long enough to deal with Yuugi before hiding somewhere, preferably dark and quiet.

“Not now, Yuugi,” Atemu threw over his shoulder, not bothering to turn and look at the younger man. “I’m sorry for the way I came in unannounced but, oh, just give me some time alright?”

It was the most emotion Yuugi had seen out of Atemu in days and he did not like it. This avoidance was the first thing he had worked on getting out of Atemu’s head, and the anger… well, that had never truly been there in the first place. He’d been irritated, sure, and hurt, but not angry. It was frightening to see such intensity appear so suddenly.

Taking a step towards his friend, Yuugi reached out to touch Atemu’s arm in what he hoped would be taken for reassurance. “Whoa now, hey, it’s alrigh-”

He cut himself off when Atemu flinched away from him, but was undeterred. Actually, the act motivated him to disregard all pretenses and wrap his arms around Atemu from behind, pressing his front to Atemu’s back and pinning the other’s arms gently against his sides. Yuugi pushed his nose into the base of the Egyptian’s neck and stood quietly, waiting for his calmness to penetrate Atemu.

At least three minutes passed with both men standing still and silent before either felt compelled to break the moment.

“Tell me what happened,” Yuugi said softly against Atemu’s skin. He added a squeeze to his embrace, trying to get Atemu to neutralize his defenses.

Atemu shook his head at the request but made no other movements. Instead, he offered his own question. “Have you met anyone new recently?”

Yuugi pursed his lips and furrowed his brows at the question. Why the hell would Atemu ask him that?

“I meet lots of people,” he said cautiously.

“Have you met anyone interesting?” Atemu amended.

A light shone in Yuugi’s head and he shoved Atemu away from himself, turning him around in the process while trying and failing to be gentle about it. Panic took a hold of his stomach and clenched painfully as all the circles that had been weaving and gyrating around his head instantly snapped themselves straight and fell into alignment.

“You can’t be serious!” Yuugi did manage to shout this time, his desire to do so increasing with the passive look he was being given. “And when were you going to tell me, huh?! How long have you been planning this?!”

Atemu’s face grew sour. “Planning?” He was in no mood, no mood to fight with Yuugi, not here, not now, not after – but Yuugi wasn’t giving him any choice and he needed an outlet before he burst, whether into tears or a rage he didn’t know. “I’m not planning anything.”

“Like hell you aren’t.”

“Yuugi,” Atemu groaned, raising his hands to cover his face and in the process crumpling the paper he held in his hand. “I have done nothing but try to make you happy and give you what you want. I’ve tried to change, I’ve tried to grow, I’ve tried to be who you want me to be-”

“That’s not fair!”

Atemu ignored the interruption, though he did comment quickly and with bite, “I wasn’t complaining.” He turned his back to Yuugi again and ran a hand through his hair, finally straightening his spine and standing tall. “All I’m saying is that I don’t belong here anymore. I never did really, but you helped me believe I did for awhile. You’ve done your best-”

Stomp.

“-and you’ve done a great job with me-”

Stomp!

“-but it’s time for you to move on.”

STOMP!

Atemu stopped talking. That last stamping of his foot by Yuugi was rather loud and poignant and threatened bodily harm if he didn’t shut up and listen.

Yuugi stood, shaking in his rage, trying to best surmise how to lash out vocally at Atemu because oh, as much as he longed to jump the man and pummel him for his insolence, he knew he would never be able to overcome him physically. When he thought of it that way, the words came rather easily.

“You stupid moron!”

Short, but it got his point across.

What Yuugi wasn’t expecting was to hear Atemu agree with him.

“You may be fond of me now, Yuugi, but that isn’t going to last much longer. No fault of your own of course,” Atemu added, attempting to cut off any further protests. “It’s just as much as you’ve helped me improve, it doesn’t spread… well, let’s just say it doesn’t spread to all aspects of my life.”

Atemu lowered his eyes to look at the paper in his hands one last time before dropping it to the floor and walking with solid defeat towards the bathroom, slowly closing the door behind him, leaving in his wake a single sentence:

“Find someone who can give you what you need and make you happy in ways that I can’t.”

Yuugi couldn’t find it in himself to do any more than gape after him, the effect of being blindsided by Atemu’s anger and confession and finally a cryptic message robbing him of all immediate retaliation. After what felt like an eternity he jerked and knelt on the floor, reaching out and capturing the page Atemu had dropped with his fingertips and pulling it to himself. Scrutinizing the page, he felt giddy laughter bubble inside him, because the paper only offered more questions and not a single answer.

Though he couldn’t be sure, he thought the scratchy writing to be in Arabic. Or, at least, what he’d always expected Arabic to look like, if you could trust what you saw in the movies.

Yuugi heard the shower. Heard the damnable drops of water rain down into the porcelain tub.

He clutched the paper in his hand, crinkling it beyond recognition.

He then raised himself to his feet, quite calmly, walked to the bathroom door, examined it…

… then kicked it down.

He’d be damned if after everything else, he was going to allow Atemu to hide from him again in a brainless shower.

Sugoroku would just have to live with the fact that as long as Yuugi and Atemu lived in his home, no door would be safe from harm.

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That evening Yuugi had insisted against Atemu’s soft protests to sleep nearly on the man’s back while the Egyptian slept on his stomach. Yuugi’s stubborn will was not to be dissuaded and Atemu had eventually understood that if he wanted any sleep at all he was going to have to relent to the younger man’s baffling desire.

Yuugi’s cheek was pressed firmly into the back of Atemu’s neck, the soft strands of the other man’s hair comforting and reassuring. His shoulders were almost parallel to Atemu’s, his chest flush against his back and his hips half-hazardly pressing the other pair into the mattress. His leg was over the closet one to him, and he had his left hand hooked beneath Atemu’s left shoulder, fingers curling around the joint, while his other arm was stretched and anchored around the Atemu’s torso.

The nature of the embrace was lost in the dark, producing nothing more than mounds and valleys to be highlighted by the sheet and blanket that covered the two bodies. It was not romantic in nature, even though it could be seen that way by untrained eyes. It was possessive, as though Yuugi were a chain wrapped around and restraining an object that had the potential to be lost.

And though Yuugi didn’t want to admit it, the fear that swam in his stomach and curdled his nerves like soured milk would no longer allow him to delude himself into disbelieving that the thought of Atemu leaving his life terrified him.

Atemu had been too stunned by the force Yuugi had used to break down the bathroom door – and in essence break down his shield – to resist being pulled out of the shower still fully clothed and sopping wet. Yuugi had drug him to the laundry room where he’d proceeded to strip the man, throw a towel around him, push him back into their shared room and throw him onto the bed, squeezing him to the point of being painful. Not once did Atemu speak to him, and not once did Yuugi ask him to. Nothing would be gained from the effort.

Yuugi was unwilling to hear the truth, and Atemu was unwilling to explain himself. It was a dire combination for communication. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to say.

“Atemu?” Yuugi asked. Atemu didn’t answer seeing as how he was asleep, so Yuugi shook him lightly before calling his name again. Receiving a muffled grunt he made a third attempt. “Até?

“Nn… what is it, Heba?” Atemu asked, his voice breathy with his fatigue. He was roused enough to answer, though not necessarily understand, and his voice gave away this fact.

Yuugi squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to restrain his emotions. To hell be damned with all the stupid hesitations and assumptions and running and accusations and insecurities he’d forced upon himself and everyone else around him. If just one sentence from Atemu was enough to stop his heart cold and halt his thoughts with the severity of an electric shock, than he was even a bigger shit than he’d accused Honda of being the day before.

“Don’t leave,” he said, his voice holding a plea. “Not yet. Not now.”

Atemu made some unintelligible sound that Yuugi took as agreement, whether or not it was one.

“And stay home tomorrow,” Yuugi continued. “No, I don’t care,” he said when Atemu woke himself up enough to complain that he had to go to work. “Call in sick, or I will. Just don’t go. Please.”

Atemu sighed heavily, nodding his head into his pillow to get comfortable. “Alright Heba, I won’t.”

Yuugi’s heart skipped a beat. “Good,” he said. “Good.” He released a harsh breath. “Okay then. Good.”

It was a start. To what, though, Yuugi didn’t know.

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to be continued…