Written for 101kisses on LiveJournal, with the prompt "Mirror/Reflection". Fynar. Pointless Bakusmut. Also, no owning of Yuugiou on my part.
The mirror in Ryou's apartment hangs above the bathroom sink. Stress and anger, frustration and hate surrounded everything to do with that mirror, but Ryou could not find the will to smash it or throw it away.
Ryou didn't hate the idea of the mirror or the vanity that was linked to it. No… He hated his own reflection.
Ryou hated how the face in the glass was so alike to him, but would then become someone else. He glared at the distortion, who glared back at him, chuckling darkly in his ears. Then, somehow, his hands were no longer his own, and he could do nothing but watch in the mirror as they traveled down his body. The laughter grew louder, ringing off the bathroom tiles, as Ryou could feel himself press against the sink, trying to get closer to the mocking face so alike—oh, gods, but so unlike—his own.
A slip of the tongue, then, and Ryou saw himself leave a trail of saliva along the cold surface—a pseudo kiss for a pseudo reflection. Further down, his hands would move, dipping below the waist of his trousers or towel. He would hear dark mutterings and diatribes as he heard himself moan. The hands—no, not his own! He'd never ever do this, but gods!—were wonderful, stroking and petting. Ryou couldn't stop, he could and he tried. Oh! How, he tried! But he wanted it, and he wanted it, and he hated it.
And then his hands would be stained.
Ryou would look up, in the mirror before him, and see the tear stains on his cheeks. He would pull his hands up and see their filth. He would have to wash them in the sink, while his reflection looked on in silence.