Alone Together

4: Seeing him again

Ryou often dreamt of being kissed—it was likely a side effect of being alone so long.
He imagined a pair of lips, soft and gentle, smiling against his smile, pressing against his cheek, parting against his skin. A million, fluttery kisses peppered him every night in his dreams—for that, he was grateful.

Until, of course, his alarm blared and brought his fantasies to a screeching halt.

Ryou stretched as he sat up, and rubbed his tired eyes. Upset that he had to leave the comfort of his nice, warm bed, he took off the blanket and put his bare feet on the cold wooden floor, wincing and curling his toes against the chill. "Goodness..." he mumbled, yawning, "What I wouldn't give to curl right back up in my covers..."

He made it to the bathroom, shut the door, and slipped out of his jammies, setting up his bathrobe and towel for when he'd get out. Once he was settled, he slipped inside the shower and stood in the warm water.

It was a bad habit, but he would just stand there in the shower as the warm water poured from the faucet. He would stand and just soak it all in, letting his hair get drenched and his fingertips all wrinkly. He would stand and think, or sometimes he'd stand without thinking at all.

But all Ryou thought of was that dream. He traced his finger against his own lips. With each passing day, the kisses got more intense, more sensual. More details to be absorbed. He slathered his soapy washcloth on his skin, imagining someone's hand aimlessly wandering his arms, his stomach, his chest.

I need human interaction soon. He thought. This lonely thing is getting to me.

Stepping out of the shower, Ryou let out a gasp when he checked the time.

"An hour?" He began to panic. "I spent an hour just...standing there?!"

Ryou brushed his teeth so quickly that it bled a bit, but he just ignored it. He put his wet hair up into a ponytail and ran across the hall to his room again in just a towel. Practically ripping his closet apart, he searched for a decent shirt and a sweater.

When he finally got everything on, he smacked himself in the head. "Trousers!" He reminded himself, and looked in the closet.
After getting socks and shoes, he rushed to the kitchen and put some bread in the toaster. No time for tea, he'd had to just put up with some orange juice today.
He rushed to his room again so he could get his wallet and his phone and his keys, before rushing back to the kitchen to tie his shoes and chug his juice. He stuffed his toast in his mouth and raced from the apartment, headed toward the elevator.

He saw the 'BROKEN' signs and gave himself a little cuss word pass before making a break for the stairs and trotting down as quickly as possible, all while trying not to choke on his plain toast.

Someone else had been walking down the same route, only much slower than Ryou was. Finally making his way to the same part of the stairs, Ryou tried with all his might to be patient—late, yeah, but polite. But also late. Without a moment to lose, Ryou decided to quickly make his way around the with a "Pardon me!"

"Pardon me my ass!" And they tripped him.

With a lunge forward, Ryou tumbled down the rest of the flight, momentum stopping him from slipping out of his position. He crashed into the wall and wheezed, rubbing a hand on his sore little bottom.

Bakura looked mortified, for a moment. It was unlikely that he cared for Ryou's well being, but if Ryou sued?

Then Bakura laughed—out of school or humor, Ryou didn't know, but it was unwelcome all the same.
"Wow, Ry. Didn't expect to see you again. And uh...certainly not like this."

Ryou stood quickly and dusted himself off. "Excuse me. I have to get to work."

"Oh, don't be a baby, you're not hurt. No need to cry."

If talking without crying was possible, Ryou would've said something about him not crying this moment.
Instead, he said, "Why are you here?"

"Its a small world we live in, huh?"

Ryou squinted.

Bakura frowned. "I was visiting a close friend of mine—he lives here. So."

Ryou looked unamused.

"I don't live here," Bakura kept talking, like his need to rationalize and justify his being here were most important. "I slept. With the...with the friend. Kind of. We're not together. I'm not—I don't really commit—..."

Ryou turned to walk away.

"Oh, come on," Bakura yelled after him. "You're not still angry with me, are you, Ry? You can't even talk to me?"
He got no response. He sighed. "What, are you jealous that I'm not the one who ended up lonely out of the two of us?"

Keep walking, Ryou.
It was too late, he'd already heard.

"Putting out helps, Ry. Take notes!"

Ryou pushed past the doors for work.