It was hot at midnight.

Not the kind of muggy, sticky, heavy hot but the kind of hot that made you feel indulgent and in tune with the world. The kind of hot that made everyone want to smile at each other and go to the beach and do nothing but eat ice cream all day.

In the hotel room it may have been a very muggy kind of hot if the double-doors to the balcony hadn't been wide open. There wasn't much wind, but the small amount that blew gently through from time to time made the gauzy curtains blow with it. They were a rich, warm vivid red that contrasted on skin and felt silky to the touch, so light on the fingertips.

The hotel room was three stories up – that meant if one woke up at midnight for no apparent reason, one could walk out of the main bedroom and stand outside with a perfect view of the moon. It wasn't quite full yet, but it would be in just a few days. The clouds were non-existent.

The Ancient Egyptian spirit known as 'Yami' and 'Atemu' among varying other names was awake and on that very balcony. One tan hand rested on the metal bar that ran around the outside of the space. The left curtain brushed across his forearm on occasion – it tickled slightly but felt delightful on over-sensitised skin, just as the slightly cooler air did on face and bare chest.

All was peaceful. If Yami listened he could hear some crickets chirping, and the curtains themselves as they rose and fell, and a slow, even breathing not his own. Content in the knowledge that his lover was sleeping so soundly in the bedroom, a lazy, satisfied smile turned up the corner of his mouth. If he turned around, he already knew what he would see; the room leading to the main bedroom, with a varnished wooden table and chairs. The white cloth on the table contained nothing now but a bottle of champagne, white and bubbly. The light scent of that combined with sand and salt from sea water strayed from room to room.. There was a deeper, fruity smell too, that Yami knew was from oranges and strawberries.

An arm snaked its way around his waist, and Yami turned, his smile growing.

"Aibou", he greeted, his voice holding the usual deep tones. "I thought you slept."

"I was asleep", agreed the other. "But I woke up. I knew I'd find you out here. Its beautiful, isn't it?"

Yami reflected for a moment on who stood before him; younger by only two or so years in appearance, the young man known quite simply as Yugi smiled too. In a quick flash of thought, Yami looked at the eyes of his lover, deciding they were not amethyst-coloured as so many described them as, but rather a richer plum colour that held more warmth than a jewel, no matter how beautiful, ever could.

"Yes", he replied in answer to the question. "It is beautiful."

Yugi had grown during the years. Still slight in build, he nonetheless was taller, coming up to just past Yami's shoulders. His eyes, though not seeming quite as wide-eyed and naïve-looking, still maintained an air of innocence about them that people found appealing.

"Come back to bed? I want to lie down beside you."

The request was met with another smile and a kiss, featherlight and lingering-

... Before an alarm-clock buzzed annoyingly, shattering the dream. Still Yami kept his hand curled tight. The dream trickled though his fingers like water, but the feelings of laziness and contentedness remained, hovering at the edges of his vision.

The room was small and painted white, the window slightly ajar to let the breezes in. Yami removed the sheets and maneuvered out of the bed. The still-dim sky told him it was yet early, and that he was most likely the only one awake in the house. A check in his mind, and the probing voice that drifted next door where a small teen lay bounced back at him, informing Yami that the occupant was indeed asleep, though he would soon wake.

Feeling as though he were still in some dream-like state, Yami soundlessly moved to the door and a few steps out into the hall. The door to Yugi's own room was closed, though not fully, so it was no trouble to give it a small push and open it further, revealing the bed.

The white cotton sheets covered Yugi up to his chest and partway over his shoulder, where it was partially slid down. Eyes closed and breathing steady, Yugi murmured something and shifted. Yami closed the door and left as quietly as he had come.

The dream was gone, but Yami smiled anyway, his feeling of happiness as complete as it had been when he slept.

After all, he mused as he got dressed, hearing the rustling of another dressing in the very next room. Even he could dream.

I decided it was high time to publish another puzzleshipping fic, since all my YGO fics lately have been Seto x Joey-centric. Yes, its rife with pointless fluff, but I hope everyone enjoyed it anyway.