Carry On

A/N: Apology number one: Adultfanfiction.net posted the first chapter twice for some inexplicable reason. Apology number two: Adultfanfiction.net did not post all of chapter one for another inexplicable reason. I apparently have not learned how to get the site to work properbly for me. *frowns softly* Sorry!

Without further ado, here is the rest of chapter one.









The hotel room was dark; the burgundy curtains drawn together with only the hazy, mellow light of the bedside lamp offering any visibility. The bedcovers were wrinkled but made, indicating that whoever had slept in the bed was not, despite appearances to the contrary, a neat freak. A green suitcase lay closed on a luggage rack that had been set up next to the TV stand and effectively cut the already small walkway in half. There was a small picture frame on the dresser beside the queen sized bed. A quick glance into the bathroom immediately off the minimal entryway revealed only a single toothbrush, an open travel-sized toothpaste, and a stick of deodorant. Even for a travel destination, the room appeared empty and unvisited.



Yuugi stopped beside the suitcase and watched Atemu walk around the bed and sit on the edge furthest from him. He may as well not be in the room for all the attention Atemu was giving him. Yuugi wasn’t insulted by this otherwise deliberate rudeness. He didn’t allow trivialities to bother him. But it was interesting that he wasn’t being given even a little bit of attention considering all of the previous interaction that had already occurred between him and Atemu.



Atemu bent his leg over his knee and pulled off his shoe, repeating the action before standing and walking back around the bed towards the bathroom. He had to stop beside Yuugi for there was simply no room for him until the other man moved. Yuugi debated whether or not to let him pass without comment. None of this was making sense. The silence, the darkness, the air of defeat, none of it. Above all, Yuugi’s gut was telling him that hanging around a little longer might be a good idea. And Yuugi always followed his gut no matter how farfetched the notion appeared to be.



Yuugi decided against trying to catch Atemu’s eye and opted for words instead. “You do realize I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said. “I know I mentioned it earlier.”



Atemu looked at Yuugi with pained features. “I’m tired,” he said quietly. “You’re free to do what you like.” He leaned forward just enough to allow his temple to brush against Yuugi’s, at which point Yuugi pushed his back flush against the wall and allowed Atemu to go by.



The touch had been deliberate, and had been unexpected enough to allow Atemu to pass into the bathroom without further questions from Yuugi. The quiet click of the lock catching in its latch and the sound of running water focused Yuugi onto the present situation and he took the opportunity to stroll around the room. The lack of any personal effects made him frown. It wasn’t usual for someone to appear so not there, especially in their own room. Yuugi sat on the edge of the bed where Atemu had been and clasped his hands between his knees. Why should he be this interested - or concerned, if he was being honest with himself, about someone like Atemu? It wasn’t like he feared Atemu was going to take his own life. As little as he knew about the man, he knew enough to believe suicide was not a possibility.



Sighing out his frustration and taking a deep breath, Yuugi hesitated when the acrid smell of alcohol registered in his nose. He crinkled his brows at the odor, lifting his hand in front of his face and curving his fingers, capturing his breath and breathing it in. His breath didn’t smell of alcohol so the fragrance wasn’t coming from him. It must have come from Atemu, though Yuugi couldn’t remember smelling it on him. Then again, he thought, being down in a bar where the aroma of alcohol was prevalent wasn’t exactly a good test. And his attention had been diverted in the elevator. The fragrance was slight, but it did offer an explanation for Atemu’s inconsistent behavior. The corner of Yuugi’s mouth lifted upwards in a soft smile. If his suspicions were correct, which he knew they were, then the sincere Atemu who had reached out to George was the real Atemu, and the one who had scowled at him was simply the result of a little too much drink.



Satisfied with himself, Yuugi was about to leave and never think of Atemu again when he took a second look at the picture on the desk beside the bed. Curious, he reached over and brought it into his lap for closer study. It was an old photograph, the colors faded to a bronzy lightness, with two creases that crossed over the middle of the picture and a minimal tear in the lower right hand corner. The subjects of the photo were a young couple dressed in bright and colorful traditional robes, standing beside a palm tree in front of an oasis, their hands on the shoulder of a small child who was unmistakably Atemu. Yuugi found the scene charming until he took a closer look at Atemu. His father’s hand was gripping his shoulder firmly. Very firmly, Yuugi noted, as though he were holding Atemu down or back or in place. Atemu was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and his body was stiff against his parents’ hands.



Yuugi tapped the frame against his knee in thought. It was an interesting picture any way he looked at it. That settled things, then. Placing the picture back onto the table he stood, checked his pocket, and walked out of the room.