Disclaimer: Yugioh (c) 1996 Kazuki Takahashi

Warnings/Notes: Shounen-ai implications.

Currently Yami sat contentedly on Yugi's living room couch. After all, today was a Saturday night, it was raining, and Yami had nothing to do except to stare off into space.

"Are you going to tell him?" a voice asked suddenly from the shadows of a dark corner.

"Tell who what?" Yami asked coolly before he brushed away stray blonde hair strands from his flashing crimson eyes, an air of superiority surrounding him. He didn't even turn around on the couch to face the stranger; he didn't need to.

A smirk was set in place. "That you find him fascinating."

"Find who fascinating?" Yami shifted in his seat before he laid back casually on the couch, arms crossed behind his head while he stared uninterestedly at the ceiling above him. Yami knew who the person was talking about, but he didn't want to admit that he did. Yami just couldn't… because if he did, he knew he would be hurting himself even more than he needed to.

"You know who," the voice seemed to sneer at him.

Yami narrowed his eyes, still facing the ceiling, "Apparently, I don't. Care to ask your questions more specifically?" He was starting to get irritated with the other man.

A smile grew its way to the said stranger's berry lips at having ticked the Pharaoh off just a bit. "You should know, after all, you just adore him."

Yami shifted once again and turned to his side, facing the back of the couch. "I don't adore anyone."

"Nuh ah uh…" he said in a slight sing-song voice, "no lying now. You'll only hurt yourself." He smirked.

Yami growled from under his breath. He was loosing control. Yami's eyes flashed dangerously. He didn't like loosing control. He forced himself to calm down as he forced his tone of voice to do the same. "I think I'll be doing the hurting… but the one who'll be experiencing it is you," he said smoothly with his deep silky voice.

"Ch." There was a sound of quiet footsteps moving towards the couch before it stopped right behind Yami's back, a warm breath tickling Yami's exposed neck.

Said Pharaoh had to restrain himself from punching the guy straight in the face. He couldn't take the teasing the other man was giving him. Yami's eyes softened as though he was about to cry, his eyes glazed with unavoidable pain.

A sigh. "What do you want?" Yami asked faintly as he shifted under the intense gaze he knew he felt on his back.

A smile. "Are you sure you'd like me to answer that?" He tucked blond bangs behind the Pharaoh's ear, and bent down to said ear and whispered calmly, "Are you sure you want to know…?"

Silence.

"Why are you doing this?" Yami asked again his soft voice, almost as if he was hurt by the closeness of the stranger.

The unwelcome guest just continued to smile and sent a soft kiss on Yami's neck, his lips just brushing over the sensitive skin there. "Doing… what? Didn't you tell me that you wanted… this? That you needed this?"

Yami shifted again in an attempt to bring more distance between him and his intruder. "This…" he said barely above a whisper. "I don't like this…"

Seeing that there was more room on the couch for him, the stranger laid next to Yami's form, molding his body against Yami's. The all too familiar presence behind him, the person holding him, Yami hated it. The unwanted caresses, the violation of hands traveling over where they should not be… He ignored all of it. He ignored the moans and groans that involuntarily escape his tightly closed mouth. He ignored the ghostly skin touching his own lightly tanned one. Instead, he imagined that long slender, pale fingers were pushing up his shirt off of his body, silky brown hair that he was clenching in his fists... The scent of honey and spice filling his nostrils instead of one musky and bitter. Blue eyes that he oh so wish to gaze into, glazed with passion and lust.

He wanted and needed that person with him, to whisper comforting words when he was down, to hug his shivering form to keep him from the cold.

But he didn't have someone like that. Instead, he had to use this person whom he despised… he at one time would've begged the other man to do this, to love him. But he hated that love that flowed so easily from the other man. He hated the tender touches of care; the little kisses and teases and nips that Yami's "lover" gave him.

Clothes were shed and left forgotten on the floor. Forgotten… did Yami forget? That he was the one who told the man that he was free to do as he wish? Wasn't it his fault that the other man came into his home and violated him? He didn't enjoy it… it was just something that needed to be done. Both of them knew that. Yami wanted to receive love, and the other man gave it to him with unspoken promises that was waiting to be broken. Yami wanted them to break now… He wasn't ungrateful for the care he received, in fact, he was most thankful for it.

Time was spent quietly later on as the couple laid contentedly on the couch, listening to the soothing sound of the rain hitting the rooftop.

"What do you feel for him? Do you know yet?" the intruder broke through the silence.

Yami shook his head slowly, exhaustion finally taking its role.

"Do you… love him?" the question fell softly from Bakura's lips, as if he was afraid of the answer. So many times he had asked this, and so many times he had not received any reply except for a soft brush of lips to lips and a "Shh…".

"Maybe it's not love… maybe I just admire him. Even so, my heart belongs to him," the answer surprised him and Yami both.

"Then we have something in common," Bakura smiled a small smile.

"And why's that?" Yami asked hesitantly.

"Because we gave our hearts to someone, who'd never love us back."

Yami chocked back a sob, tears threatening to fall. "Is that so…?"

A slow nod.

"And who does your heart belong to…?" he asked faintly.

Bakura smiled softly as he trailed his hand to Yami's chest where his heart was beating quietly. "You."

The tears fell quietly from Yami's eyes now, his eyes clenching and opening.

"Bakura…?" the name fell so easily from Yami's mouth, he didn't even get to register that he was the one who spoke the name so casually, before said thief replied with a tired "hmm?".

Yami hesitated for a long time until a small smile found its way to his lips. "Arigatou…"

Bakura knew as well as didn't know why Yami had thanked him, but he smiled anyways and held Yami tighter.

Yami smiled and smiled and smiled throughout the whole night… the rain continued patting gently on top of his roof, and his tears continued to fall. Because even though his body belonged to Bakura, his heart belonged to Seto. Both of them knew that silently, but still, they continued to make love, even if the love came out from one side, and admiration from the other. Yami admired Bakura for his love, and that's all Bakura needed to retain it, all for Yami, his Yami.

It was no wonder why he loved the darkness so much.

PS. Me was sick while writing it. Headache and fever and sore throat and all that crap. One of the reasons why I wrote a BakuYami fiction for once. Haha. D

Ai,

Harika Huynh