Ai squeaked and buried his head into Yusaku's shoulder, hands clamping downs painfully on the human arm they found nearby. And Yusaku bore it stoically, even if he was suddenly treated to the rustling fall of black hair as it pressed up against his face to successfully seal away the open maw of a dragon as it filled up the screen in front of them.

Because Ai...Ai had a lot of hair. Too much of it at times.

Still, Yusaku did not so much as blink, even as the bright spill of orange flames blurred before him, softened and overtaken by the wisps of familiar black strands that bunched up and curled against his cheeks as Ai moaned – the motion shoving his forehead into the junction of bone and skin that marked out the curve of Yusaku's neck with a firmness that felt more like a punch than a nuzzle.

It got even worse as an actor screamed and Ai flinched in response; Yusaku was close enough to feel the heavy jolt of it slam into his body, and then down he went, both him and Ai, with barely any time to resist. Within seconds, Yusaku was treated to the plush darkness of a far too plump purple cushion Ai had spontaneously brought months ago, the familiar weight of his partner successfully lodged against his spine. Uncomfortably so. Though luckily, not one heavy enough to crush him.

Ai immediately reared back, hands springing away as though Yusaku had become something akin to a white-hot poker.

'Ah! Sorry, sorry, Yusaku!' The fact that there was no playful rhythm to the repeated 'sorrys' and no casual suffix of 'chan' or 'sama' attached to the end of his name meant...well. Nothing good.

Yusaku rather nosily breathed out through his nose. And pushed himself up. A cautious glance over his shoulder showed Ai leaning back far too dramatically, as though Yusaku was a gun set to go off in his face. Even his hands were spread in a pacifying manner and maybe, just maybe there was a slight tinge of fear in his eyes as well.

Ai wasn't...well. He was stupid. About things like this, at least.

'I thought you enjoyed action sequences,' Yusaku said nodding towards the screen where currently the main character was managing to weave and duck his way around the spew of flames on a school bike – all at a speed that should not have outpaced the fire. In fact, had the scene played out in reality, he would have been a charred mess of blackened flesh at that point.

Ai glanced back at the screen and frowned as the main character managed to make a sharp turn by grasping a lamp-post to swing both him and the bike down the next street in an almost cartoonish manner. And that frown became downright pained as the main character cycled straight over a river where the bridge had collapsed, the metres of water refusing to give way beneath the black streak of his tires.

Yusaku sympathised. For while he knew that Ai enjoyed the unrealistic scenarios human television displayed, every now and again some of them hurt him and his logical, calculating, artificial brain to contemplate.

'I prefer to see dragons in a Duel,' his partner said shortly, still glaring at the cyclist. 'Their destruction is limited to the field; nothing outside it is untouched.' He smirked. 'Well, except for the loser of the Duel perhaps.'

Yusaku thought about it. Decided after a moment that it sounded truthful; Ai did get excited over action and drama, yes, but less so over anything that brought up unpleasant memories. And it was now Yusaku grimaced, distantly recalling that Revolver's dragon monsters had been actively involved in attacking the Cyberse World five years before Ai had officially introduced himself to Yusaku.

Mouth firming, Yusaku reached out and paused the movie, smoothly allowing the screen to dart back to the options menu.

'I don't think this has any monsters in it,' he muttered, cycling back through to a clip which pasted a cheerfully pink screenshot in front of them, the colour mostly comprising a comically large cherry blossom tree in full bloom, complete with the silver shards of a full moon peeking through the branches. Below the overdone artistry of the shot were two people wrapped up in robes of white, staring longingly into each other's eyes. Two male people.

Quite stubbornly, Yusaku did not turn his head. Instead, his eyes flickered over to Ai, just long enough to register the way his partner perked up, a small smile overtaking his face – a genuine one.

'Yusaku!'

And Yusaku was once again treated to hair falling into his face as Ai hugged him round the neck, the slide and press of his body enthusiastically moving into Yusaku's own. It was neither comfortable or uncomfortable, simply something Yusaku weathered yet again – and yes, okay, having Ai that close, his arms knotted round his neck, his voice tickling his ear, his hair softly scratching his cheek – it made something slip down though him, soft as honey with a warmth that rose and built. Though he was careful not to let it show on his face.

'You were paying attention! I knew it! You always look so bored when I feel you about these awesome new show I find, even though I know they touch something in you -'

Yusaku tuned him out before the teasing began in earnest and Ai's smile slipped into his usual sly one. Any minute now, Ai would tell him how 'cute' it was that Yusaku pretended to not care and nudge him, maybe tell him that he should 'be more honest with himself.'

Trouble was, this was as honest as Yusaku knew how to be. Mostly because he didn't share Ai's taste in movies at all. The truth was, even after all these years of distance from the Lost Incident, Yusaku's not sure he had ever regained a 'taste' for any of this at all. So he mostly picked movies that he judged would get a reaction from Ai, would provoke him to squeal and bundle himself up against Yusaku's side, make him lively and annoying and zealously full of life in a way Yusaku was still sometimes a little jealous of.

Honestly though, perhaps he was just 'mean' as Ai liked to accuse him of being with a petulant pout.

Yusaku can live with that. He's mean enough to find other ways to smother that pout out of existence after all.

'I would walk through a hundred deserts for you,' one character told the other on screen not ten minutes later, a lotus flower caged in his slender fingers.

How stupid, Yusaku thought, watching the enthrallment on Ai's face. Just bring him home. Keep him there. With the small things. And idly he let his hand trail down Ai's back, fingers resting on the creases he found there.

And not caging anything in at all.