How many years I must have yearned
for someone’s lips against mind.
Pheromones, newly born, were floating
between us. There was hardly any air.
Yugi’s first kiss was when he was five; at least that’s how he remembered it. At that time, girls were grosser than they are now, but Anzu was the exception. The kiss had been spurred by a movie he’d seen; one of his grandpa’s that he was told never to tell anyone he’d seen. Not that he would’ve recommended it anyways as there had been little action and an excess of adults.
But he came to be convinced that a kind of pleasure could be derived from pressing his lips to those of a girl’s and he wanted to see for sure if this was true or not. The problem was that he wasn’t the least bit inclined to touch girls. There was something about them that just felt… contagious, and… he didn’t want to contract whatever they had.
Anzu was a girl too, but she wasn’t too bad. They’d been friends since forever and she didn’t have the same contagious vibe he got from other girls. Yugi figured that put her in a special category that made her a not-girl, but still a girl. Kind of. She was an okay-girl.
Anzu owed him a cookie anyways. Not that Yugi was one to keep track of these things, but he needed to a good reason to ask for the favour. Said cookie had been from two lunches ago when Anzu fell from the monkey bars and scraped her knees and the palms of her hands on the gravel. Yugi’d given her a cookie because he wanted her to stop crying and smile again. He didn’t exactly say that she owed him something in return, but he didn’t say that he was GIVING giving her the cookie either. And that was good enough.
So one day, Yugi nonchalantly asked Anzu if he could kiss her – for the sake of science (at least that’s how he remembered it). After asking him to specify what kind of kiss, she said okay and they kissed. There was some nose-bumping and Yugi had to crane his neck at an uncomfortable angle, but soon it was done and over with and Anzu then asked if she could go over to his house because she’d been dying to play that new video game of his.
All in all, the highlight of that day had been the strawberry mochi Yugi’s mom made because she didn’t make strawberry mochi very often, but when she did, it was pretty darn delicious strawberry mochi.
The game was all right. Anzu liked it more than he did.
And the kiss was a fond milestone of his childhood.
Even the closest of friends sometimes stopped and wondered if asking certain questions crossed a line. In all of Jounouchi’s severe lack of social grace that loved ones found darling and strangers found disconcerting, he too realized the need to consider his words being voicing them. And most of them had to do with the spirit inside Yugi’s puzzle (who, apparently, wasn’t Yugi).
Most of those questions were weird and… kind of perverted. They were guys, after all, and Yugi probably did the same old stuff Jounouchi did when people weren’t looking. It was times like those that Jounouchi was thankful for the gift of privacy. He just wasn’t sure if Yugi had said privacy or, if he did, how much he really got.
Or if Yugi thought he had privacy but actually didn’t.
Or if Yugi did the same old stuff anyways, privacy or not.
Because they sure as heck still exchanged those videos.
“Hey Yugi, we got our VCR fixed, so –“
For a moment, Yugi’s eyes looked glazed, then his attention snapped back to his best friend. “Oh, sure, no worries. I’ll bring it to school tomorrow.”
Honda didn’t have a way with words. When his friends got themselves in trouble, his first instinct was usually to beat the sense into them. Over the years, he’d learned more… personable approaches, but he’d yet to really improve on them.
And sometimes he’d mean to say one thing but actually say another. He’d mean to be supportive and sensitive, but it’d come out harsh and judgmental. These things got him in trouble more often than he’d liked, so he’d taken to falling back and letting others do the talking.
But he was worried about what went on inside Yugi’s head. He’d gotten used to the whole ‘talking through the mind-link or whatever it was thing’ but Yugi wasn’t always there and that was just not right. And the closer they came to recovering the Pharaoh’s memories, the less time Yugi spent in ‘reality,’ as it were.
“Everything will work out. We’re always going to be here for you.”
That came out kind of scripted. Maybe he should have been more specific. Yeah, he should have thought about it before he said anything.
The corner of Yugi’s mouth twitched a little before he smiled kindly and thanked Honda for his support. Yugi said nothing after that.
“What do you think about getting a girlfriend? I mean casual dating, just to take your mind off things for awhile.”
That was Anzu. Straight to the point and blunt about it too. She figured they’d been friends too long to beat around the bush, especially since Yugi became so reclusive and absent-minded when Atem left.
Yugi frowned at that, but she didn’t feel any guilt for asking. She propped her elbows on her desk and rested her head in her hands, sliding forward so she sat more comfortably.
Yugi returned the smile, but it wasn’t easy. “I’m not really up for it right now.”
“Say,” Yugi looked up, startled, and Anzu shot him an apologetic look, “Have you kissed anyone since then? Just curious.”
Yugi thought for a moment. “Um, no. I haven’t.”
“Yeah. Pathetic, isn’t it?”
“Not at all.”
“Um, I got a new game and my mom and grandpa are going to a wedding tonight so I have the place to myself. You guys should come over.”
Anzu’s shoulders relaxed, “Sounds good. I’ll text the guys.”
Nothing like a person who knows
to kiss the right thing at the right time,
then kisses the things he’s missed.
How can I ever settle for less?