this old thing got some notes today so i revisited it as my warmup =w=
there are definitely some things id change (and some things id just.. approach more carefully...) if i wrote it today but tbh i still like it!
and thanks to the new attention i learned that some people are calling this kingshipping now? looks like its not a consistent change but i am ALL for it. sorry if some other ship is using that and im putting this in the 'wrong' tag but liiiike
Bakura doesn't look back, his eyes glued to the soft pinks and golds of the horizon as the sun just barely starts its journey to crest. There are soft footsteps on the balcony behind him, and then the presence forms on his left: the pharaoh.
"The habit stayed with me, too," Atem says softly, and he uses their native language that feels soft and familiar to Bakura's ears. Stubbornly, he continues to ignore him. Not for any real reason; that feud ended when they were both revived, found by their other halves, and forced to make amends over crappy fast food. No, this is a matter of pride.
They stand together in silence, and after a minute Atem leans forward to cross his arms on the railing in a mirror of him. "The shadow RPG," he says. "You changed how things were. It didn't go like that at all, the first time."
"I don't know what you mean," Bakura mutters.
"Do you remember? How we were?" He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and he flinches away, on instinct.
"Don't," he hisses. Atem's hand hovers in the air as he looks at him, uncertainly.
"You'd come to find me, every night," he murmurs. "You were going to kill me, that very first time. But you never did."
"Don't," Bakura repeats, but it sounds more like a plea this time. He can't stand it, the way Atem's looking at him with such tenderness. He always looked at him like that, even when Bakura's hands and teeth were stained with blood.
"And then Mahaad caught us, and he was furious and chased you out," he continues. "And you made his life so hard. Remember when you hid his headpiece? He was so distraught about looking presentable that he wouldn't show himself to me until he found it."
"I killed him."
"I know."
Atem holds his gaze, steadily, and Bakura's chest heaves with every breath. "He's dead because I killed him," he says again. "You should hate me. I hated you for so long and you didn't do half of what I've done to you."
"I did," he agrees. "But we've died since then too, and he's safe in Aaru now. He's happy. He said so when I saw him." Atem pauses. "He told me about how you cried, holding him."
"That wasn't- I- he-" Bakura takes a step back as Atem moves closer.
"Bakura," he says, and he flinches again when Atem's fingers cradle his cheek. "He asked me to tell you to forgive yourself."
"How?" His voice trembles, and he can't decide if he wants to lean into that warmth or rear away, if he wants to crumble exactly how he did that first night so long ago, or if he wants to leap over the balcony railing onto the nearest roof and run until his legs give out. "That's not- I don't deserve that."
"You were deserving enough to earn a second life." Atem searches his face, and Bakura hates how fragile he feels, suddenly. "You deserve to have peace in this one. It's been so long for us, Bakura. Rest."
Bakura is falling apart again, and despite the crisp morning air it could've been midnight on a humid Egyptian desert as a keen rips from his throat, and he surges forward to press their lips together like it's the last time he'll ever be allowed to. They press against each other fervently, and Bakura lets his hands curl into Atem's, their fingers slotting together just how he remembers.
He doesn't know how long they stand there locked in an embrace, but when Atem pulls away, Bakura notices absently how much shorter he really is. "It's okay," he says, and he gently presses away wet spots on Bakura's cheeks with his sleeve.
"Is it?" he can't help but ask, feeling like a petulant child.
"We'll try it again," Atem promises. "With no magic or bloodshed."
"We can still keep the games, though? I like Monster World."
This coaxes a laugh from him. "We'll play as many games as you want. Forever."
"Forever," Bakura echoes, and a small smile emerges despite himself. "That sounds nice."
