Snake eyes. If he rolled snake eyes, he'd tell Tristan. No other result would do.
Duke tossed the dice into the air, catching them with a succinct snap of his wrist. He had to come up with something. He'd go crazy otherwise. Who'd have thought a few simple dreams could have this affect on him?
It would start simply enough.
Another argument, pushing and shoving, grabbing at the other's coat. The worn denim of Tristan's jacket slipping beneath his fingers and out of his grasp. A sudden flash of movement as fast as it was unexpected, pinning his arm behind his back. Shoved flush against a wall, threatening heat pinning him in place. Twist and glare at Tristan who had his own message of "Stay away from her" reduced to growls and monosyllables. Pushed away and stalk off.
But those words changed now in the whispers of sleep.
Tristan still growled, "Stay away from her." Currents ran beneath those words, however, depths that could drown. Voice so close to his ear, tiger rumble fierce, continued speaking in these new dreams. "You belong to me." His arm released and the terrible pressure of Tristan's body no longer pinning him to the wall. No. Something else entirely holding him in place now. Challenge as searing and threatening as heat lightning. Fever pitch. Hazel staring down emerald.
Duke always smirked in his dreams, lips quirking in mirthless amusement. Challenge returned in two deft words. "Make me."
Simple touch, single fingertip, calloused caress tracing down the line inked upon his cheek, tipping his chin a fractional inch upwards. Heart a frantic bird fluttering against a cage of bone. Blood rushing to quench that parched center of him that could never find enough to drink. Breath so hot, so hot, so very hot, against his skin. Almost, almost close enough.
Breathless words mouthed against his lips, so close he could taste them. "I will."
Trembling, shaking, quivering. "Touch me." Pleading.
Scorching promise held tight within hazel gaze. Blessed touch and stroke of hands. Pretense of words and clothing dropped. Desperate hands cling to someone real, someone there. No walking away, no pushing away, no pharaoh and best friend, no father and lost chances. Sweat slicked skin. Bodies lost to primal dance. Enough to burn in, enough to drown in. Cold tile beneath and scalding flesh above. Taken and taking. Heat thrust within to burn him to ashes. Salty tears dropping from above to spatter his cheeks.
Burning and drowning in him.
Enough! Duke clutched the dice hard enough to pop his knuckles. That was enough. The damned dreams had to stop. The dice were flung through the air and rattled against the black and white tiles of the classroom floor. They came to a stop beneath a desk. Duke's breath clutched in his throat. Snake eyes? Or another sleepless night?
Seven. Seven little black eyes on the dice winked maliciously up at him.
He stared blankly at them for a moment. Picked them up and placed them on his desk. They remained unchanged. Seven. What a perversely appropriate number. So was he to sit here then, when Tristan walked in the door a few minutes later? Duke settled himself at his desk. That was it then. Seven. The treacherous serpent didn't show it's face. No snake eyes.
The door to the classroom opened and students began to fill the otherwise empty room. Duke saw Yuugi and his little crowd of friends. Green eyes narrowed and he glared at the dice on his desk. His hand snatched out and shoved them in his pocket. Screw snake eyes.