Work Text:
Done for animorbid for the 2018 YGO Mini-Exchange.
The prompt: "Ryou has a nightmare. Leads to something soft, snuggly, and tooth-rotteningly sweet."
I hope I got it tooth-rotteningly sweet enough ;)
Ryou could hardly breathe.
No, not here, not again…
He stared up at his demonic other self, huge and mountainous from his place on the RPG board. The other Bakura leered down at him, eyes flashing in malicious glee.
“My turn,” he sneered, his soft voice sinister, seeming to rumble through Ryou’s very core and yet also sounding in the back of his mind at the same time.
The dice fell from his hand over his head, huge and terrifying, their collision with the table sending rattles through the entire board. Ryou stumbled a couple of steps, but held his ground.
“Would you look at that,” the other Bakura practically crooned, “a critical hit.”
Ryou felt his other self pull at the shadows that fed the game, and Zorc burst through the castle gates, huge and awful from his tiny perspective. It roared and snarled, and Ryou heard a tiny “eeeek” from his left. He looked and saw Anzu, in her pretty mage’s garb, frozen in fear; Jou and Honda were next to her and looked terrified themselves, but determined to fight at the same time.
In front of them by just a step was Yugi. Tinier than the others, even on this board; fierce-eyed and angry, despite his size. His eyes met Ryou’s, and he nodded: a small, determined nod that managed to fill Ryou with courage all on its own.
He turned to face his other self, the demon-Bakura, pushing his fear to the back of his mind.
He could control the fear. He could fight this, like he had done before; he could protect his friends.
His Yugi.
“And now,” the other Bakura sneered, “Zorc attacks.”
“No!” Ryou yelled, and his other self, surprisingly, paused. “We roll first!”
“Yeah!” Jou shouted. “Fair’s fair, asshole! We fight first!”
“You won’t keep us down,” Anzu cried, practically on top of him.
“We’ll defeat you,” came Yugi’s ringing voice, confident and sure.
The other Bakura merely smirked, and waited a beat before responding. “Ah, yes… but who will roll for you?”
Ryou spun around, expecting to see Yugi’s other self towering behind them… but there was no one there. Only Yugi’s body, slumped over like the rest of their friends’ forms, head resting on the table.
“He’s gone…” Yugi’s soft tone was sad. “He’s gone now… he can’t roll anymore…”
Ryou felt a sharp spike of terror that seemed to turn his very insides to mush.
“Well, then…” the other Bakura said, smiling nastily, “I suppose it’s my turn after all, isn’t it?”
I have to stop him, I have to— Ryou’s thoughts were frantic, anxiety mixing with terror mixing with anger. It’s my body, not his, NOT HIS, I can stop him, I have to protect them—
He pushed with his mind, with his heart. He felt the familiar dark resistance, which had always shoved him aside so easily, forcing him into an unconsciousness that he dreaded waking up from, because the consequences of what his other self had done in his absence were always awful. He felt the power, the cruel presence of the other him, the demon-him… and pushed back.
“Resisting me, are you?” The other Bakura snickered.
Suddenly, he was in his head again. In his own head, looking through his own eyes, down at the board and the tiny figurines.
For a moment, he thought he’d done it, succeeded in wresting control back… but then realized he couldn’t move anything at all.
“Which of your friends should I crush first, landlord of mine?” The awful voice mocked both aloud and inside his head.
No, he cried mentally, as loudly as he could. Don’t hurt them, don’t hurt any of them! Hurt me if you must but not them!
“But it’s such fun,” his other self said, in a mockery of lighthearted humor. “Don’t you want me to have fun?”
NO, I DON’T, Ryou snarled, aware that it sounded childish but past caring.
“Well, that’s too bad…”
His hand reached out across the board—no, no, he DIDN’T want his hand to do that, but it moved without his consent, slowly and deliberately. It descended over the figurines, and Ryou’s heart broke at the tiny cries he heard as they tried to avoid being crushed.
He could do nothing, nothing, like every other time…
He was out of his body, floating next to his own head, staring in rising panic as his other self picked up a figurine and dangled it between forefinger and thumb.
“How about this one?”
Yugi.
Of course it was Yugi, of course he’d pick the one Ryou cared for most, of course it was—
No, no—no-no, please I’ll do anything, not him—
“Keep fighting, Ryou!” Yugi’s tiny, determined voice was a knife through his heart. He could do nothing…
His other self closed his hand around Yugi’s figurine, containing his soul, and began to squeeze.
NO!
Yugi screamed, both tiny and earth-shattering; Ryou was screaming with him, and his demon self was laughing, just laughing and laughing as his hand closed tighter, and Ryou was both screaming and crying, and suddenly aware that he was holding Yugi’s crumbling form, he was making Yugi scream, this was all his fault—
———
“Ryou!”
Ryou jerked awake with a yell, sitting up so sharply he nearly fell off the bed. His ears rang; he blinked tears from his eyes as he tried to register his surroundings. It was dark… and he was hot, sitting in bed, gasping for air…
A light clicked on, blinding him briefly, and he blinked until the bedside lamp came into focus. And the person beside it, who was shifting away from the lamp’s switch, turning towards him, healthy and normal-sized and alive.
“Ryou?”
Yugi’s expression was sleepy, but full of concern, and he reached out and brushed Ryou’s shoulder. Ryou felt himself flinch automatically, but then relaxed, and Yugi squeezed his shoulder slightly.
“Another nightmare?”
Ryou could only nod.
“Him again?”
He nodded again, dropping his gaze to the bed they shared, the large bed he’d bought for his apartment ages ago, which only felt properly sized when Yugi was next to him. Shame tingled through his entire body, his face hot. It had been years, dammit, and he still had these every so often; it was ridiculous—
His thoughts were brought to a halt by Yugi shifting closer and pulling him into an embrace. Almost unconsciously, his head dropped onto Yugi’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around him almost desperately. And he let himself cry.
Yugi was still shorter than he was; he probably always would be. But he had gained strength, and his comforting hold felt like the safest place in the world.
Fingers threaded through his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, gentle motions. He felt Yugi shift, pulling both of them backwards a little so they were leaning against the pillows and headboard.
“You’re safe now,” came his partner’s soft tone, rumbling slightly in his chest under Ryou’s ear. “You’re safe. He’s gone forever. I’m here, I’m right here.”
Ryou cried, feeling all the fear letting itself out, as he clung to his partner like a lifeline. He was the one person in the world who could understand—who did understand. The one person on whom Ryou could cry himself out and not feel stupid.
He had no idea whether it was seconds, minutes, or eons later, but he finally felt himself calming down, able to loosen his grip on Yugi’s shirt. Yugi shifted, feeling the change, and then Ryou felt tissues at his face, gently dabbing at his cheeks, his streaming nose; he was able to unclench one fist and take the wad from Yugi, blowing his nose loudly and unceremoniously.
“Want to tell me about it?” Yugi’s voice still sounded drowsy. Ryou vaguely wondered what time it was. Whatever time… he did want to tell Yugi about this one.
He cleared his throat. “Was… the RPG game,” he managed hoarsely. “Except… no one to roll our dice.” Yugi let out a breath. “And he—he crushed you, your—your figurine, you know…”
“Yeah, I remember,” Yugi said softly.
“And I couldn’t fight him, I kept trying but I couldn’t even control my hand… except at the end, the very end, it was me holding—crushing the…” he felt a lump rising in his throat again and stopped. “It was all my fault,” he whispered, feeling tears again.
“Oh, Ryou,” Yugi whispered, understanding and sadness in his tone. His arms squeezed Ryou a little harder. “It wasn’t your fault. If you suddenly had control again, that was him shoving you back in, remember? His manipulation to cause you pain.”
One of Yugi’s hands rubbed his back soothingly, and Ryou managed to nod. “And,” he said, hoarsely still, “it wasn’t… wasn’t real. We won the real game.”
He needed confirmation sometimes, and Yugi knew it. “Yes, we did. And you were instrumental in ensuring that we did.” Ryou felt a soft kiss brush the top of his head. “One thing was real, though, I think…”
“Huh?” Ryou tensed.
“You fought him,” Yugi said simply. “You fought then, and you fought in the nightmare, too. You never stopped fighting him.” Another kiss, closer to his eyebrow this time. “My brave other heart.”
That was their private term, partially a joke and partially genuine: both of them had harbored spirits for a time; both had called them their “other selves”. Calling each other their “other half” like some couples did felt strange and awkward… but “other heart” felt just right.
Ryou felt himself smiling a little, in spite of himself. “You fought, too,” he murmured. “You always do.”
Yugi hm’d a little in amusement. “Well, at least we think well of each other even in nightmares,” he said lightly, and Ryou snorted—or at least, he tried to snort, and ended up coughing, because he was still incredibly congested.
He sat up, coughing so hard his eyes watered, and Yugi thumped him on the back and handed him more tissues. When he finally surfaced, breathing relatively easier, he saw that Yugi had pulled the box of tissues right into their laps, and a considerable pile of used ones sat in front of him.
“Note to self: don’t make Ryou laugh immediately after he’s had a long cry,” Yugi said, smiling when he caught Ryou’s eye.
Ryou grinned. “You made that note last time. And yet, here we are,” he teased.
Yugi pulled a mock-affronted look. “Are you saying I don’t keep my promises?”
“No, I’m saying you forget your notes to self.” Ryou began gathering the wet tissue pile in order to throw them in the trash bin nearby, when he caught the time on his alarm clock: 4:27. “Oh, dear, it’s late,” he sighed, getting up and tossing the pile dutifully into the can.
“Early, really,” Yugi shrugged, yawning as he placed the tissue box back onto his night table. He got up. “You need water,” he said gently, when Ryou shot him a quizzical look, and padded to the bathroom, returning quickly with a full glass.
“Sorry to wake you,” Ryou said softly, getting back into bed and gratefully accepting the water. He took a sip and was surprised at how dry his mouth had become. He drained the glass quickly.
“You… you didn’t, actually,” Yugi sighed. Ryou looked sharply at him as he climbed in next to him from his side. He flushed when he caught Ryou’s gaze. “I’d only been awake a few minutes,” he said, slightly defensively. “Not long, not like last time.”
Yugi had nightmares sometimes, too, Ryou knew, but his were of a different kind. Yugi’s other self had cared for him; they’d bonded deeply and loved each other in their way. Every so often, Yugi would wake with a start, his eyes terrified and almost despairing. His nightmares were of terrible emptiness. Absence.
He always woke quietly, and hated waking Ryou. Last time, he’d been unable to go back to sleep and had been awake long before their alarms went off; Ryou had been worried sick at his pale face and deep under-eye shadows that not even his best concealer could hide.
Yugi missed his other self, and while most people would feel jealous, Ryou did not. If he’d had an other self like Yugi’s pharaoh, he’d have missed him, too. And sometimes, he did miss knowing that he wasn’t entirely alone within his own head. It was a strange feeling both of them shared, not needing to struggle to find words to fit it when they were together.
Yugi loved him, and he loved Yugi, more fiercely than he’d loved anyone else. They’d fought for each other, saved each other, understood each other in ways no one else could.
Ryou sighed. “Okay,” he said. “That’s good. You’ll have a hard time today, though,” he added regretfully. Yugi had a tournament that afternoon that Kaiba had insisted upon.
Yugi shrugged slightly. “After all the sleep I didn’t get in Battle City, I think I can handle this,” he said with a sardonic smile, and Ryou had to laugh.
“If Kaiba defeats you because you’re exhausted, he’ll never let you hear the end of it,” he teased.
Yugi snorted, but smiled. “If he defeats me because I’m exhausted, he’ll be so offended that I wasn’t at the top of my game that he’ll demand a rematch once I’ve slept. And would probably make me take a sleeping pill right that second and have someone watch me or something.”
“And then barely wait until you’ve finished your coffee,” Ryou agreed, grinning.
“The horror,” Yugi deadpanned, but then yawned widely. Ryou felt himself mirror his partner.
“Bedtime for both of us, I think,” he murmured.
Yugi nodded, turned out the light, and snuggled closer to him. “Better now, love?”
“Yeah,” Ryou said, letting out a long breath that fully released the remaining tension he held. He found his lover’s shoulder and cuddled into it, wrapping an arm around him. “Thanks, love.”
“Hm? For what?” Yugi’s voice was sleepier already.
“Everything,” Ryou smiled. “My other heart.”
A deep, contented sigh and a slight brush of lips against his forehead was his only answer.
Ryou felt himself falling, sinking silently into darkness. This darkness was warm. Safe. Comfortable. Not the dark of nightmares. This, he would sleep soundly within.
The last thing he heard was Yugi’s heartbeat under his ear, beating in steady rhythm with his own.