Seeing Eye to Eye
By Ruriko L. Minamino

Disclaimer:
Yu-Gi-Oh is not my original creation and rightfully belongs to the brilliant animator(s) who came up with the serial. This story has been created for non-profit reasons. Discrepancies in the manuscript, I either have done purposefully to make the story more solid, or are such that I am unaware of.

Warnings:
This story contains open homosexuality, as well as some reference to sexual activities. There will also be light swearing and some vulgarity as the story progresses.

Legend:
"…speech…"
"…Egyptian…"
'…thoughts…'
'…hikari…'
'…yami…'

Chapter Notes:
1. This chapter is more of a filler than an actual part of the story. It's the second-shortest chapter in the entire story and only took me one day to edit. Don't be too disappointed. Things will pick up right after this chapter. Working on it already. (wink)

For those who want to be informed if I'm making changes or anything in this, or any of my stories, or those who simply want to get in touch with me, please visit my update blog. The link can be found on my Profile Page.

Well, to get on with it, then! Remember, reviews are really much loved!

07. Presumptuous Chaos

Tristan sighed explosively as he splashed water onto his face in the gas station restroom late that night. He poked gingerly at his left cheek. At least there was no bruise.

'And to think mom was thrilled when Yugi got me to stop getting into street fights,' Tristan chuckled softly to himself.

The entire Joey-turning-into-Seto-Kaiba thing was probably the biggest joke of the century. He pitied his blond friend. Tristan whipped his face and walked out of the restroom. To live with the person you hated the most in the world was a bad scenario already – to be that person… That must be torture. The brunet gave one of the station hands a lazy salute and walked into a nearby convenience store. It was late, but after everything that had happened that afternoon, he was famished.

'At least I didn't have to deal with Devlin after that,' Tristan thought smugly, scanning the snacks on display. He grabbed a box of biscuits and was just about to browse through the soda selection when he caught sight of medical supplies on a shelf. He picked up a box of Band-Aids and compared the size of the strips to the others on the shelf. He let his eyes wander over some cooling tapes as well. "Now which one should I get?"

"If you were really using your brain, you'd get whichever one fits your wound… horn-head."

Tristan whirled around immediately and found himself staring down at the evilly-glinting emerald eyes of Duke Devlin. The slinky raven-head was smirking at him in that don't-care-cause-you-are-just-filth manner of his. Tristan's blood began to boil.

Then, he noticed the patch of white bandage on the skinnier teen's face.

"What are you doing here?" the brunet demanded. "And what happened to your face?" He didn't really care what happened to his rival, but he didn't think Devlin was clumsy enough to get himself hit on the face – however that happened.

The dice-player shrugged his shoulders. "What's it to ya, pony-boy?"

'I am not a horse, damn it!' Tristan clenched his teeth, but held his tongue in check. It was late; they were standing in a rather public place. It wouldn't be good to start a fight there.

'Whatever…. Horse-brain.'

The sound of Devlin's voice echoed loud and clear in Tristan's head. The brunet had completely forgotten about the mind-link. He froze over in temporary shock as the DDM creator sauntered past him and towards the drinks section. They had agreed to keep out of each other's heads, and now, all of a sudden, the dice player was starting something. Tristan had been content just throwing verbal insults until Devlin had crossed the line. There was no way they were ever going to get along enough for the spell cast on them to break. The only solution they could come up with was blocking, but since the bastard of a playboy had decided to disregard their agreement…

'Damn, you walk like a girl.' It was Devlin's turn to whirl around madly.

"What are you playing at now?" the raven-head growled. He stalked back to Tristan with murder in his eyes. "Stay out of my head!"

Tristan huffed. "Only when you get out of mine!"

"What do you say we take this outside?" Devlin had a nasty glint in his eye.

"Bring it on."

Five minutes later, the two of them were standing in the same playground where the whole mess had begun. They stood facing each other near the park fountain, fists clenched, eyes narrowed in barely concealed rage. Tristan was ready for anything. He wasn't in that much pain from the fighting earlier and Devlin, he could tell, was better at acting like a total ass than causing actual physical damage. Yes, Tristan was ready and willing to get into another fight.

'Ready, horn-head?' Devlin sent out the thought with a sneer. He folded his arms across his chest and stood with one eyebrow raised contemptuously.

"Whenever you are, dice-boy!" Tristan charged forward with a growl, fist at the ready. As he expected, Devlin tried to dodge his punch. The brunet was ready for him. He grabbed the thinner teen by the arm and twisted – "AH!"

A jolt of pain shot up Tristan's left wrist. The raven-head couldn't have managed to hit him, could he? Before he could contemplate further, a leg went crashing into his rib.

"Oh, fuck!" Devlin rolled on the ground, gasping. For some reason, he was massaging his side vigorously.

Tristan took the opportunity to smash his foot into the offensive prick's stomach. Almost at the exact time his foot made contact, he gasped in surprise and pain. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck.

"What the fuck is happening here?" he panted, pulling Devlin up by the shirtfront. "What did you do?"

The Dice Master just spat on his face. "Like hell I know!"

"I'm gonna –!"

"Stop it!" a familiar soft English-accented voice caught the rivals' ears. Tristan and his rival turned to find Ryou standing by the fountain, chocolate-brown eyes wide in supplication. "You're just hurting yourselves, guys!"

Tristan allowed Devlin to wiggle out of his grasp. "Ryou! What are you doing here so late?"

"He dragged me out to go stargazing," the knife-sharp tones of the Tomb Robber Bakura pierced the silence. The Spirit stepped out from behind the fountain and laid a protective hand on Ryou's shoulder. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You two just managed to ruin our evening."

The albino hikari left his darker half's side and firmly placed himself in between the feuding pair. "Don't you two know what you're doing to each other?"

Before Tristan could explain, Devlin let out a snort. He jerked his thumb in the brunet's direction. "Trying to beat this loser into a pulp – what else?"

"Just whose feet were hangin' a foot off the ground a second ago, huh?" Tristan growled out, trying to get past Ryou and claw the cocky bastard's eyes out. "Let me at him, Ryou – Whoa!"

A dagger landed on the ground just at Tristan's feet. Bakura was glaring heatedly at him. "Haven't you two blockheads figured it out yet?"

"Kura, don't be so hard on them," the Tomb Robber's hikari admonished. "Duke was confused as it was this afternoon, so stop being so horrible already."

"Dice-boy was confused about what?" asked Tristan. 'What the hell is goin' on here?'

'Shut up Tailor! I can hear you in my head again!'

'Not my fault you can't block me out, Devlin!'

Ryou sighed and looked from one glaring friend to the other. He gently laid a hand on Devlin's shoulder and shook his head. "Duke, please take off the bandage on your cheek."

Tristan blinked and watched as, with a sigh of annoyance, Devlin peeled off the white strip of cloth. He bit back a gasp. Right in the center of Duke's cheek, made uglier and darker by the light of the streetlamp, was a large bruise.

"What happened to you?" The question came unbidden to Tristan's lips almost before he could fully register what he was seeing.

Devlin just glared, turning his attention to the albino lovers instead. "Does this have anything to do with what just happened?"

Ryou looked away guiltily and Bakura started to chuckle. "At last, one of you noticed." The Tomb Robber sat on the side of the fountain and yawned. "I'm not preachy like the Pharaoh is, but I am going to drill some sense into the pair of you. Listen good, alright?"

Tristan frowned. More mysticism. This wasn't good. 'But at least it'll tell me what the hell's the problem. Why can't I hit Devlin without hurting myself?'

Bakura sneered and started to explain. "The Priest and the blond bum are stuck together in one body, therefore, they can't cause physical pain to each other because they will hurt the one body. What we've done to you is basically the same thing, except you still have your bodies and lives intact. One of you hurts the other, both of you feels it. One of you dies, both of you are goners. There. Said it."

"But why the hell are we involved, anyway!" Tristan burst out.

Devlin slapped him on the head, wincing as he felt the effect himself. "Just shut up and think! Yami already said we're the catalysts. We just gotta keep from strangling each other until this all blows over."

"That isn't exactly it," Ryou hesitantly put forth.

The dice-player just waved him off. "Whatever. I've had enough for one day. I'm headed home." Before he could actually take a step, he fell to his knee, wincing. "Christ! My rib still hurts…"

"You hit Tristan too hard," Bakura observed with a smirk. "Looks like you're too strong for your own good, Duke."

"Shut up!"

Tristan walked over to the struggling teen and held out his hand. "Here, I'll help you grab a taxi outside the park. Least I can do."

Devlin stared at him for a long moment, then got to his feet on his own. "I don't need your help, horn-head. My driver's waiting down the block. Ryou, Bakura, see you later dudes." He walked off down the path and out of view.

'Jerk!'

He could almost feel Devlin snorting derisively. 'Back off, loser. You don't want to get hurt!'

Tristan growled inwardly and concentrated on pushing the raven-head out of his head. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Well, that's that. Tried to be nice; didn't work. See you in school, Ryou. Bye Bakura!" He took off at a run, heading the opposite way Devlin had gone.

'Stupid Devlin!' he thought, yawning. 'I'm beat! I hope I can stay awake in class tomorrow…'

"Kura?" Ryou leaned against his yami's chest as they watched Tristan's form running off into the distance. "Why'd you lie to them?"

The Tomb Robber blinked down at his light. "Tenchi?"

"You said I took you out to stargaze," the smaller albino reminded Bakura, reaching up to tap his nose. "But you were the one who insisted we come here in the first place…"

"Heh," Bakura just ruffled Ryou's hair fondly. "Blame it on the Pharaoh, tenchi. He put me on guard duty tonight."

They sat down together on one of the benches, wrapped in each other's arms. It was a rare thing these days. As Ryou leaned in closer, Bakura felt a pang of guilt about his daytime whoring. 'Tenchi deserves better, I guess…'

"Are you even listening to me?" the chocolate-eyed hikari was saying. Ryou frowned lightly up at his dark half. "Kura, what do you mean, Yami put you on guard duty?"

Bakura chuckled lightly and just pulled Ryou onto his lap. He took a flat brass disk from inside his jacket. As he blew steamy breath onto it, an image started to form. It was Tristan, just getting into a bus. The image began to fade, and then the albino pair was looking down at Duke flirting with someone on his cellular phone.

Ryou's eyes widened in understanding. "I see… So you were – Achoo!"

The Tomb Robber pulled a handkerchief out and dabbed at Ryou's nose mischievously. "Sick, tenchi? Does this mean I get to play doctor with you when we get home?" The Spirit's touches turned predatory and one pale finger slipped under Ryou's sweater suggestively.

"Kura! I have school in the morning."

"So?"

"Kura, no! And you did sound as preachy as Yami did earli – Oh… AHH!"

Duke leaned back in the cool black recliner in his posh living room, lazily depositing his cellular on the mirrored surface of the side table. His body was sore all over from the encounter in the park.

"Horn-head's fault," he muttered to himself, staring at his reflection on the glass panes of his condominium unit windows. "My face is a mess."

The DDM Master frowned and got out of his seat. It was past midnight and he had school in the morning. He'd done his homework but that wasn't really his worry in the first place. It was the goddamned mind-link he'd been saddled with. With Tristan Tailor of all people, too!

'It's a good thing I learned to seal off the damned thing in time,' Duke thought with a wince. 'My thoughts have been hitting the moon lately. It isn't even about Serenity anymore.' He slowly walked over to the bureau and pulled out a glass from the cabinet. The bottle of Perrier from the mini fridge was refreshing and left that perfect slightly rough aftertaste that Duke loved – not as much as a steaming cup of coffee, though. He felt better when he tossed it into the trash bin and headed for the shower.

He turned on the taps to test the temperature, then peeled off his top. 'Tailor's been on my mind a lot recently. Jesus, it's getting annoying.'

The dice earring and bandana came off, and Duke pulled his hair out of its elastic band, fluffing the thick black locks around his face. He preened himself in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction when he found no visible signs of fatigue. He frowned at the bruise on his face and the one starting to form on his rib. It was rather vain, but that was how he was. Ladies loved him and life was good.

Suddenly, the image of Tailor's dopey face popped into his head. Duke growled inwardly as he slipped out of his pants.

'What will it take to get that moron out of my thoughts?'

It was a beautiful night in Barcelona and the nightlife was in full swing. Down the crowded streets of the city they ran, blending too well with the crowds to be recognized for who they were – for him to be recognized for who he was.

"Isn't this great?" one asked, stopping to admire the festive display in one of the shop windows. "I'm so glad ya brought me on your trip here!"

"It's nothing," the taller figure said, rapidly concealing the extent of his pleasure. To think, this mere trifle of his could bring such pleasure to his beloved one's face. If that was the case, he would take him everywhere, anywhere, all over the world. They would cruise the Mediterranean, travel on jets to the Americas, stroll in the ancient cities of Europe, brave the African wilds, even. Money would never be an issue. He had more than enough of that.

"But really, ya shouldn't have!" came the embarrassed reply as they walked down to the beach. "I would've been just fine waitin' for ya back home. Honest!"

The self-assured one just pulled his lover closer and wrapped him tightly in his arms "I want to take you everywhere with me – never want to be separated from you ever! You don't know how much you really mean to me!"

They sat down on the sand together, lay down watching the stars. "I'm nothin' special… Just your average ole' guy, livin' an average ole' life."

"But that's why I love you." How his heart ached when he heard his lover's words. Average – him? Never. "My world is in black and white, shades of gray. With you here…everything I see becomes beautiful. But nothing ever will compare to you."

The kiss they shared was long and sweet, lingering and tender. As they parted for breath and lay on the sand, content smiles graced their lips.

"I love you."

"I love you too, S –"

0 – 0 – 0

Joey's eyes flew open. Again, the alarm-clock jolted him awake.

"Ugghhhh…." The blond teen rubbed the back of his head. "Some weird dream. What the hell was all that about?"

He couldn't remember any of the details, but one very strange thing about it was he was still dreaming from another person's view. He shuddered, remembering the last part. 'That was cheesy – and gay. Like a perfume advertisement. What the hell have I been watchin' these days? Oh, yeah, right. I haven't had the time to watch anythin' lately!'

It was one of the irritations of being in Seto's shoes. Apparently, the brunet never watched anything but the late-night news and stock market reports. He'd been about to mention a horror movie to Mokuba over dinner the night before; a veritable feast between 'brothers' to celebrate the return of Mokuba's bag – and 'Joseph's necklace. He still recalled the strange look the younger Kaiba had given him.

"But you hate those movies," the boy had said. "Are you okay, Big Brother?"

That had clammed Joey up tight.

The blond teen yawned sleepily. He was never going to get used to the early-morning alarm clocks. How Kaiba lived with them, he had absolutely no clue whatsoever.

"Five more minutes," Joey mumbled, sinking back onto the blissfully soft sheets and closing his eyes.

"You're going to be late for classes," a familiar cold voice came from somewhere above him. Joey's eyes snapped open to find the phantom form of his rival leaning on the bedpost. "Get up, mutt."

"Don't call me that!" the honey-eyed boy snarled, sitting up straight and furiously rubbing at his eyes. "I'm not a dog!"

"Exactly." The CEO's words shocked Joey to the quick. Seto actually agreed with him on something? "Animals can afford to laze around all day because they have no real obligations. You are a human being – a creature similar, yet of higher mental capacity than a beast. You have school and work today and I won't have you ruining my reputation because of your laziness."

"Your reputation," Joey snorted, glaring at the brunet yami. "That all you ever worry about, Moneybags? Kinda makes me pity ya. You seriously need a life!"

"You're living it."

The blond winced. He wanted to forget about that. "Not by choice! Blame it on the yamis. I wanna get back to sleep! School doesn't start till eight!"

He felt the ghostly figure coming closer and when he cracked open an eye, Seto was hovering directly above his face. They were so close, Joey realized that if he raised his neck just a fraction of an inch, they'd end up kissing on the lips. 'YUCK! Where the hell did that thought come from? With Moneybags? I'd rather die!'

"You will get up now," the cerulean-eyed yami said in a dangerously soft voice. "You will go take a shower and dress for school. Then, you will go downstairs and have breakfast with Mokuba. The limo will arrive at the front door at 7:45 and you will go to school in it."

Joey sneered and folded his arms across his chest. "Make me."

That turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Seto glowed bright orange and suddenly, Joey felt a wrenching sensation in his gut. He was being shoved out of conscious control again. The CEO-Spirit had almost complete control of his limbs and he felt himself getting out of bed. With an almost superhuman effort, he concentrated on his right hand and made a grab for the Eye of Inversion under the blankets. Everything slid back into focus and he sank back down onto the bed.

"Hah!" he crowed triumphantly. "Ya gotta do better than that if ya wanna take over, Moneybags! I ain't gonna be fooled by that trick again."

Seto materialized again beside the bed. "Impressive. Now get up. I've never been late without excuse in my life and you can't make me start doing that now." His eyes were narrowed coldly.

The glaring contest was on… but lasted for all of one minute. There was really no way Joey could stand that kind of frigid gaze for so long. "Fine. I'm gettin' up now. Happy?"

The only response he got was a smirk.

"What's so funny?" the blond growled.

The CEO-Spirit just raised an eyebrow. "Grouchy today, mutt?"

"Well soooo-ry!" Joey snapped, taking a swipe at the ghostly figure. "Blame it on the cheesy soap-opera dream I just had!"

"Soap-opera dr –?"

A scream came from the doorway. A maid had walked in on the pair and was pointing at Seto in absolute terror. "Ghost!" she screeched once before falling into a dead faint.

"Now the staff is going to think the house is haunted," Seto noted, raising an eyebrow at his 'hikari'. "What are you going to do about this, mutt?"

Joey just stomped off with a strangled sound, leaving his so-called other half in the bedroom. He started to pull of his clothes in the walk-in closet and headed for the bathroom. All the while, he mind was coming up with fifty different horrible things he'd like to shove up the annoyingly bossy CEO's ass.

Did the pup not even know he was practically broadcasting his thoughts? Seto was glad he'd gone back into the Eye. He had gone bright red and his own imagination was straying where it shouldn't be straying.

There were more pressing matters to attend to – like how to speed up the separation process. The longer he stayed in such close proximity to the blond, the more accustomed – the more comfortable – he became. That was starting to worry him. Seto needed the daily distractions of work to keep his mind off the other boy. With nothing to do all day, he was forced to observe Joey at all times. Not a good thing, considering he was far beyond infatuated already.

Seto lay down on his divan. It was funny, how in this realm, he felt completely solid, yet in the real world, he was nothing more than a faint specter.

'… long metal walking stick would work too…'

Seto blushed beet red. Didn't the blond boy have any idea just how kinky those thoughts sounded? It was hard enough to block them, as it was. The brunet would have to silence Joey himself.

'Mutt, do you have any idea how impossibly stupid all that sounds?' He sounded arrogant again, but then, that was how he always ended up sounding around Joey.

'Get the hell out of my head, Moneybags! I'm tryin' to take a bath in here!'

Joey. In the tub. Taking a bath. Seto swallowed hard. 'Can't you be quiet while you're at it?' he sent out the though, making it sound as hostile as he could.

'Can't you say anything without sounding like a cranky old geezer?'

'So the mutt has a quick mouth after all.' Seto sighed in frustration. Why couldn't he bring himself to sound nice? He caught a flash of Joey sitting in the large Roman-inspired sunken tub, vigorously rubbing at his arms and neck with the sponge. The brunet turned red again. 'Just hurry up, or you're going to be late.'

'Asshole.'

'Whatever, mutt.'

Seto concentrated hard and imagined a brick wall separating his thoughts from his host's. It worked fairly well. The stream of thoughts halted and the CEO-Spirit was left alone in blissful silence. Though, with Joey involved, how long that would last was completely uncertain.