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Cold.
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Literature Text
Malik hates the cold.
When one is raised underground in an Egyptian tomb, one comes to appreciate and delight in the sunlight. Sometimes, he remembers that one day when Ishizu took him to the surface; parting the doors and letting golden warmth welcome him into the world he'd been barred from. He recalls lifting his arms up, as though to shield himself from the brightness that had washed over him. But then he lowered them, squinting up at the grand, shining disc with awe and wonder. That day had other reasons for being unforgettable, but Malik remembers these little details that were beautiful even when so many ugly ones often scratch at his psyche.
He stands by the window, looking worriedly up at the dark clouds clustered high above. They seem to be growling at him; eager to threaten and frighten him into submission. Though the Egyptian has been cowardly in the past, he is not known for it now. He is stronger -- a calm, confident young man. And yet, he seems to shrink away from the window, as though recoiling from the thunder that is beginning to build outside. Thunder shouldn't bother him so much. It isn't going to hurt him, after all. But it brings about odd connections in his mind. He is reminded of how cold he feels whenever there's a storm outside; of how shivers creep across his skin and into his bones so he feels vulnerable and unnerved. He remembers getting terrible migranes; the ones so bad he'd been sure his head would split open. In a way, it had. It had split open and released a monster...
He wraps his arms around himself for reassurance, rubbing just above his own elbows as he seeks out whatever warmth he can from his own body heat. He can't stand remembering things sometimes. Being cold leads him to feel weak and helpless and he hates that. Malik's through with weakness. So why does he get this way when he gets cold? Why do certain images flicker over his mind's eye, eager to break apart his defenses? Because warmth is Malik's element... his safety. He swears under his breath and chances a glance back through the window to glare at the clouds as rain begins to pitter-patter against the glass.
Why did he travel to Domino in early winter? Why?
"Come sit down. It's okay."
The blonde is startled and glances over towards where he'd heard the voice prying gently at him from the sofa in the sitting room.
Oh. That's why.
Ryou Bakura smiles up at him, patting at the space beside him to encourage Malik to sit. The Egyptian actually feels incredibly foolish. He usually isn't so jumpy. There is a surprisingly small and bashful smile offered to the white-haired boy on the couch as he makes his way towards him. He can't help but flinch slightly as a particularly loud crash of thunder pounds against his eardrums. He frowns, disgruntled, and sits beside his companion, chewing the inside of his lip. He's sitting up straight and tense, hands clutching themselves tight in his lap as he tries -- and fails -- to appear unconcerned.
"It's okay."
He hears the words repeated again, accompanied with a feather-light touch stroking along the back of his hand. The tombkeeper glances down at the slender, white fingers reaching to pry his hands apart so that they can gently entertwine with his own fingers in a gesture of comfort. His eyes -- such a strange shade similar to lilac or lavender -- flutter up towards his companion's face where they meet with a dark, soft stare. Ryou's eyes... they are such a bold contrast to the pale white of his skin. But so warm... God, so warm....
Malik tries breaking out of his cold-induced stupor. His hand squeezes Ryou's and he inches closer, wanting very much to immerse himself in more body heat. Ryou's eyes widen as the Egyptian cuddles close, but he does not complain. Only smiles after a moment and encourages it by wrapping an arm around the tombkeeper's shoulders. Malik leans his face into the boy's neck, closing his eyes as he winds his own arm around Ryou's waist. He just wants to be held. Usually it's Malik who is holding his pale counterpart, content to comfort him and offer what physical closeness he can. But even the more dominant of the two has his moments of weakness, as reluctant as he is to let them slip. It's early winter. It's cold. He doesn't care. He just wants to be warm again and Ryou's arms around him feel so right. Perfect, even.
For a while, he just sits there. One of his legs hooks over Ryou's just to keep himself close and secure. The pale boy only hums gently. For a while, the rain pours down on Ryou's apartment, but the two don't move. They don't say much, either. They don't need to. Though the rain shows no signs of letting up and it is still quite cold, Malik relaxes. He nudges his nose against the slope of Ryou's neck once or twice, eyes closed. The shivering has subsided. He doesn't feel so empty and unsure. Though he misses the warmth of Egypt, he realizes that he's missed this even more. Ryou notices how the tension is dissapating and closes his own eyes as he rests his chin atop Malik's head. His arm gently encourages the Egyptian closer and this is met with no complaint or objection. Just a soft purr in the back of the tombkeeper's throat.
It's almost as though they intend to fall asleep here, even when it's only mid-afternoon and neither of them is very tired. But they are so relaxed -- so at ease -- that sleep doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Malik isn't used to this. He's more accustomed to distancing himself and keeping to his independence. But he does not complain now that he's found someone that can put him at such ease, even when it's cold and raining. He presses a kiss against Ryou's neck, eyes still closed as he continues to move his lips gently along the side of the boy's throat. By the time he reaches the underside of his jaw, Malik notices that Ryou is angling his face to glance down at him. The pale one admires the suddenly-affectionate Egyptian, whose eyelids slowly open so that lavender meets with comforting, warm sable.
"Thank you," says the blonde, in a voice that differs from his usual, confident tone. And he leans up, covering his mouth on Ryou's before the silver-haired teen can say anything. Ryou didn't necessarily expect this, but relaxes into the kiss, tilting his head a little as he feels Malik's hand leave his waist to cradle the side of his face. Ryou's own hand glides up the back of the tombkeeper's neck and into his hair, gripping it, but not tightly enough to bother him. He is kissing him back, no qualms about the tenderness with which their mouths move against one another; eager with affection but calm and unhurried. It is one of many kisses shared between them, but that doesn't make it any less wonderful as warmth spreads through bodies once shivering with the cold. And loneliness. Yes, maybe that had made him shiver too.
When Malik finally breaks the kiss, he doesn't pull back very far. He looks up at Ryou, facial features uncharacteristically soft and, in a way, pathetic. He doesn't like depending on other people. He doesn't like letting his weaknesses show to a point where he needs to be held and babied. But Ryou just smiles shyly at him and kisses him again. Their lips are soft against one another; gentle despite how wanting those lips can be. Malik makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat and deepends the kiss, hand guiding his friend's face impossibly closer. In the Egyptian's need for warmth, he becomes more involved in the kiss, letting his tongue roam into the boy's mouth as his posture straightens up as though preparing to climb upon Ryou's lap. The white-haired youth notices this and lets him, but pulls back from the kiss. Malik blinks at him, confused, before noticing the gently amused, if embarrassed, grin he's got on his face. Oh. He's acting too forward again, isn't he? He knows Ryou doesn't mind his spontaneity most of the time, but right now's not the right moment for the intimacy he'd suddenly been craving. He doesn't need sex to feel warm. He just needs Ryou's arms around him and that shy, beautiful little smile.
The blonde manages to hush his lust and just lets his body lean against Ryou's chest. He's still straddling him, but doesn't seem keen on moving. Ryou just hums again, wrapping his arms around his waist and tracing circles along his lower back. After a few minutes, he decides to lie down along the sofa and lets Malik lie on top of him. The Egyptian has never been the image of innocence, but he looks the part now, resting his head on his comarade's chest with eyes closed. He nuzzles him absent-mindedly, like an animal appreciating the simplicity of the warmth that comes from it's mate's closeness. Ryou realizes that Malik is falling asleep and smiles to himself. He lets his fingers stroke through his sandy blonde hair and sighs as he feels his own mind slipping into another realm of consciousness. With eyes half-closed, he glances at the tombkeeeper resting on him, savoring his beauty in this simple, innocent image before he too drifts off to sleep. "Oh Malik," is what he mumbles quietly as his head lolls slightly to the side, feeling only the vibration of a content moan purr through his lover's chest.
The rain falls outside, pattering against the window. It doesn't stop for another two days. That's all right, though. Malik isn't bothered too much. He has Ryou, after all. And Ryou's quite good at keeping him warm.
When one is raised underground in an Egyptian tomb, one comes to appreciate and delight in the sunlight. Sometimes, he remembers that one day when Ishizu took him to the surface; parting the doors and letting golden warmth welcome him into the world he'd been barred from. He recalls lifting his arms up, as though to shield himself from the brightness that had washed over him. But then he lowered them, squinting up at the grand, shining disc with awe and wonder. That day had other reasons for being unforgettable, but Malik remembers these little details that were beautiful even when so many ugly ones often scratch at his psyche.
He stands by the window, looking worriedly up at the dark clouds clustered high above. They seem to be growling at him; eager to threaten and frighten him into submission. Though the Egyptian has been cowardly in the past, he is not known for it now. He is stronger -- a calm, confident young man. And yet, he seems to shrink away from the window, as though recoiling from the thunder that is beginning to build outside. Thunder shouldn't bother him so much. It isn't going to hurt him, after all. But it brings about odd connections in his mind. He is reminded of how cold he feels whenever there's a storm outside; of how shivers creep across his skin and into his bones so he feels vulnerable and unnerved. He remembers getting terrible migranes; the ones so bad he'd been sure his head would split open. In a way, it had. It had split open and released a monster...
He wraps his arms around himself for reassurance, rubbing just above his own elbows as he seeks out whatever warmth he can from his own body heat. He can't stand remembering things sometimes. Being cold leads him to feel weak and helpless and he hates that. Malik's through with weakness. So why does he get this way when he gets cold? Why do certain images flicker over his mind's eye, eager to break apart his defenses? Because warmth is Malik's element... his safety. He swears under his breath and chances a glance back through the window to glare at the clouds as rain begins to pitter-patter against the glass.
Why did he travel to Domino in early winter? Why?
"Come sit down. It's okay."
The blonde is startled and glances over towards where he'd heard the voice prying gently at him from the sofa in the sitting room.
Oh. That's why.
Ryou Bakura smiles up at him, patting at the space beside him to encourage Malik to sit. The Egyptian actually feels incredibly foolish. He usually isn't so jumpy. There is a surprisingly small and bashful smile offered to the white-haired boy on the couch as he makes his way towards him. He can't help but flinch slightly as a particularly loud crash of thunder pounds against his eardrums. He frowns, disgruntled, and sits beside his companion, chewing the inside of his lip. He's sitting up straight and tense, hands clutching themselves tight in his lap as he tries -- and fails -- to appear unconcerned.
"It's okay."
He hears the words repeated again, accompanied with a feather-light touch stroking along the back of his hand. The tombkeeper glances down at the slender, white fingers reaching to pry his hands apart so that they can gently entertwine with his own fingers in a gesture of comfort. His eyes -- such a strange shade similar to lilac or lavender -- flutter up towards his companion's face where they meet with a dark, soft stare. Ryou's eyes... they are such a bold contrast to the pale white of his skin. But so warm... God, so warm....
Malik tries breaking out of his cold-induced stupor. His hand squeezes Ryou's and he inches closer, wanting very much to immerse himself in more body heat. Ryou's eyes widen as the Egyptian cuddles close, but he does not complain. Only smiles after a moment and encourages it by wrapping an arm around the tombkeeper's shoulders. Malik leans his face into the boy's neck, closing his eyes as he winds his own arm around Ryou's waist. He just wants to be held. Usually it's Malik who is holding his pale counterpart, content to comfort him and offer what physical closeness he can. But even the more dominant of the two has his moments of weakness, as reluctant as he is to let them slip. It's early winter. It's cold. He doesn't care. He just wants to be warm again and Ryou's arms around him feel so right. Perfect, even.
For a while, he just sits there. One of his legs hooks over Ryou's just to keep himself close and secure. The pale boy only hums gently. For a while, the rain pours down on Ryou's apartment, but the two don't move. They don't say much, either. They don't need to. Though the rain shows no signs of letting up and it is still quite cold, Malik relaxes. He nudges his nose against the slope of Ryou's neck once or twice, eyes closed. The shivering has subsided. He doesn't feel so empty and unsure. Though he misses the warmth of Egypt, he realizes that he's missed this even more. Ryou notices how the tension is dissapating and closes his own eyes as he rests his chin atop Malik's head. His arm gently encourages the Egyptian closer and this is met with no complaint or objection. Just a soft purr in the back of the tombkeeper's throat.
It's almost as though they intend to fall asleep here, even when it's only mid-afternoon and neither of them is very tired. But they are so relaxed -- so at ease -- that sleep doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Malik isn't used to this. He's more accustomed to distancing himself and keeping to his independence. But he does not complain now that he's found someone that can put him at such ease, even when it's cold and raining. He presses a kiss against Ryou's neck, eyes still closed as he continues to move his lips gently along the side of the boy's throat. By the time he reaches the underside of his jaw, Malik notices that Ryou is angling his face to glance down at him. The pale one admires the suddenly-affectionate Egyptian, whose eyelids slowly open so that lavender meets with comforting, warm sable.
"Thank you," says the blonde, in a voice that differs from his usual, confident tone. And he leans up, covering his mouth on Ryou's before the silver-haired teen can say anything. Ryou didn't necessarily expect this, but relaxes into the kiss, tilting his head a little as he feels Malik's hand leave his waist to cradle the side of his face. Ryou's own hand glides up the back of the tombkeeper's neck and into his hair, gripping it, but not tightly enough to bother him. He is kissing him back, no qualms about the tenderness with which their mouths move against one another; eager with affection but calm and unhurried. It is one of many kisses shared between them, but that doesn't make it any less wonderful as warmth spreads through bodies once shivering with the cold. And loneliness. Yes, maybe that had made him shiver too.
When Malik finally breaks the kiss, he doesn't pull back very far. He looks up at Ryou, facial features uncharacteristically soft and, in a way, pathetic. He doesn't like depending on other people. He doesn't like letting his weaknesses show to a point where he needs to be held and babied. But Ryou just smiles shyly at him and kisses him again. Their lips are soft against one another; gentle despite how wanting those lips can be. Malik makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat and deepends the kiss, hand guiding his friend's face impossibly closer. In the Egyptian's need for warmth, he becomes more involved in the kiss, letting his tongue roam into the boy's mouth as his posture straightens up as though preparing to climb upon Ryou's lap. The white-haired youth notices this and lets him, but pulls back from the kiss. Malik blinks at him, confused, before noticing the gently amused, if embarrassed, grin he's got on his face. Oh. He's acting too forward again, isn't he? He knows Ryou doesn't mind his spontaneity most of the time, but right now's not the right moment for the intimacy he'd suddenly been craving. He doesn't need sex to feel warm. He just needs Ryou's arms around him and that shy, beautiful little smile.
The blonde manages to hush his lust and just lets his body lean against Ryou's chest. He's still straddling him, but doesn't seem keen on moving. Ryou just hums again, wrapping his arms around his waist and tracing circles along his lower back. After a few minutes, he decides to lie down along the sofa and lets Malik lie on top of him. The Egyptian has never been the image of innocence, but he looks the part now, resting his head on his comarade's chest with eyes closed. He nuzzles him absent-mindedly, like an animal appreciating the simplicity of the warmth that comes from it's mate's closeness. Ryou realizes that Malik is falling asleep and smiles to himself. He lets his fingers stroke through his sandy blonde hair and sighs as he feels his own mind slipping into another realm of consciousness. With eyes half-closed, he glances at the tombkeeeper resting on him, savoring his beauty in this simple, innocent image before he too drifts off to sleep. "Oh Malik," is what he mumbles quietly as his head lolls slightly to the side, feeling only the vibration of a content moan purr through his lover's chest.
The rain falls outside, pattering against the window. It doesn't stop for another two days. That's all right, though. Malik isn't bothered too much. He has Ryou, after all. And Ryou's quite good at keeping him warm.
summary; It's raining outside. Malik is cold. Malik hates feeling cold. Luckily, Ryou's around to warm him up.
fandom; Yu-Gi-Oh
pairing; Malik x Ryou (Angstshipping)
rating; PG13. Boys kissing.
So yeah. Finally uploaded something. It's not a sketch or a doodle, but a lame-ass fic thing. I was bored, had some muse lying around, and thought I'd write about pretty boys cuddling and stuff. I know it's sappy, choppy, and stupid, but whatever. These two are adorable. And they're probably both OOC like woah in this. :/ Oh well. I love them anyway. I guess this is what happens when I feel just as sappy. Haha.
Also, yeah, there are probably loads of spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, and a whole lot of other obvious errors. I proofread this, but was distracted (as usual). I'll just go over it again later when I have the time.
Malik & Ryou (c) Kazuki Takahashi
fandom; Yu-Gi-Oh
pairing; Malik x Ryou (Angstshipping)
rating; PG13. Boys kissing.
So yeah. Finally uploaded something. It's not a sketch or a doodle, but a lame-ass fic thing. I was bored, had some muse lying around, and thought I'd write about pretty boys cuddling and stuff. I know it's sappy, choppy, and stupid, but whatever. These two are adorable. And they're probably both OOC like woah in this. :/ Oh well. I love them anyway. I guess this is what happens when I feel just as sappy. Haha.
Also, yeah, there are probably loads of spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, and a whole lot of other obvious errors. I proofread this, but was distracted (as usual). I'll just go over it again later when I have the time.
Malik & Ryou (c) Kazuki Takahashi
© 2009 - 2024 divveh
Comments16
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Awwww x3.
This totally made my day...night..whatever. It was so sweet x3.
This totally made my day...night..whatever. It was so sweet x3.