Yami blinks once. Twice. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out slowly just like his therapist has told him.
"What the fuck."
The man in the middle of the room startles and turns. His expression is more of a child who's hand has just been caught in the cookie jar rather than a man caught in a pool of blood with a dead body on the floor beside him.
"Yami," the man almost whispers. His eyes are wide and his mouth opens and closes with no words coming out. After frantically glancing around the apartment, he finally takes a look at himself. He awkwardly spreads his arms wide as he does, exposing more of the blood stains and tears on his white dress shirt.
'Those stains are never coming off,' Yami thinks absently. He thinks about the apartment complex laundry room and how awkward it would be to explain this particular load to his neighbors. Maybe he should be freaking out over the fact that his best friend just probably murdered someone. Maybe his mind is still downstairs in the lift wondering what he would scrap together for dinner.
"...Yugi?"
"H-Hey, Yami. You're out of work early. Uh, how was your day?" Yugi gives him a forced smile. When he continues to stare, he waves his arms frantically. "Okay, I know this looks bad-"
"Is there a dead man in our living room?"
"Okay, yes, technically. But-"
"Yugi!"
"Please don't freak out-!"
"How are you telling me not to freak out when you're covered in blood and oh, gods, tell me it's not yours-"
"No, listen. None of it is mine. Things just got a bit hectic and messy here-" Yugi takes a few careful steps towards him, as is he's worried Yami will bolt any second. Maybe he should.
Yami lets out a shaky breath. It seems his brain has finally caught up with what he sees. "What happened?"
Yugi reaches where he stands. His face goes from wary to stone serious from one second to the next. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," he says immediately.
"Good." Yugi takes his hand and presses something hard and cold into it, never breaking eye contact. "My car is outside. A two-door. All black. You'll notice it right away. I need you to get in and wait for me. Then I'll explain everything. Can you do that for me?"
Yami notices how tightly he's holding Yugi's hand. Notices the wet of the blood that is now all over his own. He swallows thickly and nods.
"Good." Yugi whispers, close enough to feel the breath on his face. "Go."
.....
They're miles outside of the city limits just a few hours later. The sun has just gone beyond the horizon and the stars are almost completely invisible because of the streetlights. Yugi stares out into the road from the driver's seat after finishing his story. Yami has been completely silent the whole ride, only grunting in acknowledgment when prompted. Sometimes his eyes drift to Yugi, admiring him entirely. He finds it strange (and perhaps a bit concerning) that throughout all of this, his feelings have not gone away.
"So," Yami begins after what feels like an eternity of silence. "What. My mom was some kind of underground wanted criminal and now there's men out to get me because they think I'm hiding her fortune?"
"She was more like Robin Hood." Yugi says almost absently. "And when you put it like that..."
"This is ridiculous. You're supposed to be some kind of bodyguard, then?" He lets out a breathless laugh. "And I'm just supposed to believe this?"
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"Isn't that what you've been doing these past years?" The words are bitter on his tongue.
The car swerves suddenly. Yugi has jerked them over to the side of the road and turns off the engine. He doesn't look at Yami.
"Is that what you think?" His voice sounds so vulnerable, so hurt, that it makes Yami's chest ache. "Do you think our friendship is a lie? Do you think those times I came over to your house when you were sick was a lie? Do you think I moved in with you because of an act?"
Yami can't bring himself to answer; he's too busy staring at the way Yugi's shoulders quake and the way his hands are clenched against the steering wheel. Yugi turns to him and Yami sees the tears welled up in his eyes.
"Do you think I worry myself sick when you're away from me because of a lie? Do you think I hate when you're not with me, when you're somewhere I can't protect you, because it's my fucking job?" The tears fall then, just as Yami feels his own falling shortly after. "Do you think being in love with you is part of an act?"
The car is silent aside from Yugi's harsh breathing. Neither of them can find it in themselves to break eye contact.
"But you're leaving me now." Yami whispers.
"I have to."
In the end, it's Yami who leans in and closes the gap between them. The kiss is slow, sweet, and everything Yami has ever wanted since Yugi Mutou had walked into his life almost ten years ago. One of Yugi's hands tangles itself in his hair, and Yami feels butterflies deep in his stomach.
When they finally pull away, they are both breathless. Their foreheads stay touching while they catch their breaths.
"I'm taking you to a base." Yugi says after a few moments, repeating what he had told Yami when he was still driving. "They'll take care of you there. Give you new papers. A new location. Somewhere they won't find you again. I to stay and deal with the aftermath of the dead man in our living room."
Yami's eyes bore into his. "Come back to me." He all but pleads. "Promise me. Promise you'll come back to me."
Yugi kisses him again in lieu of an answer, and for now, Yami pretends this means yes.
Where else would I go?
