Dark Addiction

By: Rogue Fox

A/N: Hey, everyone. Here it is. My super-dumb, super-sappy, rot-your-teeth fluffy fic. I don't know if this is angst or not. Maybe a little. I've never written anything like this before, so be gentle. I've never written a one-shot fluff fic before, and I've never written shonen-ai. For those of you that don't know, I'm warning you; shonen-ai means two guys are seriously into each other. As in, very seriously. Turn back now if you're against that. This is purely Yami x Yugi, with a few tiny hints of Ryou x Yami Bakura. I chose that pairing because it's easiest for me and I'm experimenting with writing shonen-ai. You might soon see a similar pairing in "The Game of Life." Oh, btw, the POV is the same throughout the fic. You'll figure out who. And before you get me about it, I know Yami and Yugi can't both physically stand in the same room. Just pretend for the sake of the fic. So flame me if you want, but be gentle. ::sigh:: Here we go. Review and yell at me.


/ blah blah/ = Yugi's thoughts to Yami

// blah blah// = Yami's thoughts to Yugi


Light is drawn to dark. Dark is drawn to light.

Opposites attract. That's the way the world works. If negative electrons weren't drawn to positive protons, the world wouldn't be able to exist. If males didn't attract females, the species wouldn't be able to breed. If matter wasn't drawn to anti-matter, nothing would work. Without the attraction between opposites, reality as we know it couldn't be.

And of course, it's natural for a half to seek out its other half. Doesn't a hydrogen atom seek out the right combo of other hydrogen atoms and oxygen atoms to make a water molecule? Every half looks for completion. It's natural. Sometimes that search can lead that half across the world, or even across time.

It hurts. Being a half, I mean. Always knowing on an instinctive level that you're not whole. You can't ignore it, even though you try. And you unwillingly spend your life searching for your other half that you know you don't really have a chance of finding. You try anyway. It's natural to seek completion. But living without that completion hurts. It's like a constant aching in your chest, every beat of your heart and every breath you take making it worse. You get used to it, but it never lessens. It always hurts.

The rest of the world doesn't understand. Of course, I never really expected them to. But still...

I got lucky. I found my other half. It was a damned miracle all the same. But the feeling, when two souls mesh and make something far better than either one was alone... It's amazing. A little scary at first. All right. Down right terrifying.

At first, it was so natural and so complete, I felt like he was a part of me. I wasn't scared, why should I be? Then I started to notice him more. He got stronger, more bold. I started waking up in places I couldn't remember going. I thought I had epilepsy or something. When we made our first contact, he retreated very quickly. I think he scared himself with his own ferocity, the viciousness he used against our enemy. For a long time, we both sort of worked around each other. Both of us acknowledging that we were two different souls in one body, but neither of us willing to be the one to initiate contact. We kept meshing, uniting to make the better part of both of us. It worked, and we both figured, why do something different when what you've been doing all along works just fine? When our wills finally clashed, Seto Kaiba almost lost his life. I managed to stop my other half in time. But I learned that he was not just a reason for me to visit a therapist. He was a force to be reckoned with that I could not just turn off. He had a will and personality of his own. I was scared. When I learned to trust him, everything clicked.

After Duelist Kingdom, our friendship ran deep and strong. I would sit on my bed many a night, legs crossed, Puzzle set in front of me. He would sort of appear in front of me, mimicking my position and appearance. And we would talk for hours into the night. Why? Why talk to someone who shares your every moment, your every breath, for hours? Because he was there, he listened, and he understood. And I didn't do all the talking, either. He slowly began to open up to me, revealing more of himself. More of his desires, more of his fears. We helped each other.

Whatever came our way, we could handle it. We had each other. And with every trial, every challenge, our bond grew deeper. We both grew stronger in every aspect of life, always side be side. There's something very comforting in knowing that when you wake up, when you go to sleep, when you do anything at all, even breathe, your other half is there, watching you and protecting you. Even Ryou will admit to that. It doesn't matter if your other half will condemn someone to death without a second thought. He's your other half. He completes you, and you complete him. It's that simple.

Like I said, the rest of the world can't possibly understand, and I don't expect them to. Of course, I had to learn that. You see, Yami is not me, in any way, shape, or form. He's Yami. He's completely different from me, and yet, he's the same in so many ways. But his difference from me is why he completes me. He might be a killer, but I don't care.

Am I addicted to this feeling of completion? Hell yeah. I'm so addicted it's not even funny. But I'm not the only one. Ryou's got it just as bad. But even so, I never expected what happened. It totally uprooted my world.

It was a Monday. I'm not sure why Mondays are universally hated, but I hate them too. And that Monday had been particularly bad.

I wanted to run home, but my leg hurt too much to run. Some jerk who thought he was God's gift to the world of comedy had kicked me on the back of the leg on my way to the lunch table. The dummy was wearing steel-toed boots. So now, I had a blood stain on the back of my left pants leg, a lot of pain, and my lunch, which had ironically been spaghetti, all down my front. Jou and Honda had both threatened the jerk, but neither one of them could afford to get suspended for fighting, especially on my account. And nothing they could ever do could compare to the threats Yami had been spewing all day since lunch.

// I swear, when I'm done with him, he'll be wishing for death!// he growled.

/ That's not nice, Yami./ I told him dutifully. Even though letting my yami tear that jerk's soul from his body, tear it to itty-bitty pieces, put it back, and then beat the pulp out of him physically actually sounded pretty nice. But Grandpa wouldn't appreciate that, and Grandpa always finds out.

// You worry too much, aibou.// Yami said.

/ I worry just the right amount./ I shot back. He appeared in his spirit form, which I only I can see, beside me. He had to jog a few steps to match my pace.

// Fine. Give yourself an ulcer. See if I care.// he told me haughtily. I grinned, careful not to look at him. We were in a crowded street and everyone would think I was a little on the loony side if I looked up and smiled at someone who wasn't there.

/ Fine with me. And when I'm laid up in the hospital with that ulcer, I'll think, if only I didn't have to worry about my yami so much.../ I thought, even going so far as to sniffle a bit.

// Stop that.// Yami snapped. I pulled my face into a pout and whimpered, exaggerating my limp. // Damn you, Yugi. Why do you have to be so damn cute?/

/ Aw, but how would I get my way with you without it?/ I asked.

// You'd find a way.// Yami said confidently, watching me as I skipped ahead of him, my mood lightening with his presence.

It's moments like that one that make my life worth living. Skipping around on the sidewalk in an imaginary game of hop scotch with my Yami following closely, smiling softly and keeping a jealously protective watch. My protector. My leg didn't hurt as much with him around.

Yami fully materialized as we got into the shop. Grandpa said hello to both of us as we tromped through the shop into the house, and we both gave him similar greetings, Yami with his usual unreadable expression. Once we were safely in the house, though, his serious look melted.

" You. Bathroom. Clean. Now." He barked, herding me to the bathroom. I grinned in amusement. My yami. Too shy to show his face in public without being able to pretend to be me. But far too protective to let me have a cut on my leg that hadn't been cleaned.

" It's not life-threatening, you know." I protested as he forced me to sit on the side of the bathtub.

" Sure it is. To the bastard that put it there." Yami responded. " Now, what the hell is the difference between rubbing alcohol and hydrogen poroxide?" he asked.

" Hydrogen poroxide hurts more." I offered.

" How do you feel about rubbing alcohol?" Yami asked quickly.

" Not much better." I said with a grimace.

" Suck it up." I was told. " Now, how do I do this?" he asked, looking at me sheepishly.

" You sound like Yami Bakura." I said, taking the alcohol and a wad of toilet paper. Yami instantly flared.

" How can you compare me to that... That..."

" Tomb robber?" I volunteered.

" That wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but it works." He agreed.

" You two would die of shock if you ever realized how much alike you actually are." I told him. Yami instinctively pulled my injured leg up so that it was propped up on his thigh, reading my needs before I could rightly express them. I positioned the toilet paper under the cut after pulling up my pant leg, so it would catch the liquid. Yami took the bottle of alcohol back from me, and dumped some over the wound. I winced as the tart scent assaulted my nostrils and the sting ran up my leg, but I didn't make a sound.

// Aibou?// Yami asked me mentally, dabbing at the cut to get the excess rubbing alcohol.

/ Yes, Yami?/ I thought back.

// You're crying.// he pointed out. I laughed and wiped away a few tears.

" Sorry." I said quickly.

" The first difference between me and that tomb robber is that I don't demand absolute lack or emotion from my hikari." Yami said happily. I smiled up at him.

Yami bandaged my wound, and then let me move around enough to get to my room to do my homework. And even then, I had to pout and wail to get that much.

" Remind me one more time what the point of you doing that stuff when we could be doing something worth while is?" Yami suddenly asked, pulling himself into a sitting position from his sprawled position on my bed.

" So I can learn." I responded.

" And the point of that?"

" So I can graduate."

" And that?"

" So I can get a decent job."

" What's wrong with dueling?"

" That's not considered a decent job. And if you don't shut up, I'll never get this done!" I cried in exasperation. " By the way, you wouldn't happen to know what year Caesar was killed, would you?"

" Who?" Yami asked, cocking his head curiously. It's amazing how many of my habits he adopted.

" Never mind." I said.

" Are you done yet?" Yami asked a few minutes later. I slammed my book shut.

" I guess it doesn't matter." I muttered. At which point, my dear yami decided to lighten my mood by chunking a pillow at my head.

" Ah!" I cried. " Why you-!" I choked out, diving at him.

Yami and I wrestle a lot. We always did. It's our way of playing and relaxing when one of us is too stressed. We were just two teenage boys, closer than the best of friends, just having a friendly wrestling match.

" I don't know why I bother." I muttered as Yami pinned me down. " I never win." I added.

" You cannot withstand my superior might." Yami announced. I pouted. " And I cannot withstand your superior cute face." He added, rolling off me onto the bed beside me.

If Yami had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been comfortable laying on a bed beside him. But he was my Yami. And he would never hurt me. My faith in him was as unshakable as my devotion to him. So we both lay there, gasping and grinning, both of us just basking in the feeling of completeness. Two halves together, to become something better. So I didn't think about it when he wrapped a well-muscled arm around my narrow shoulders. The feel of his large hand pulling me close to his deep chest felt right. Who was I to protest? Why would I protest? I just lay there, happy to be near him. I didn't notice when his breath became even and deep, or when he turned his head to stare at me. But when I did notice, I turned to look at him. That was the beginning of the end.

Our gazes met and locked. The others say we look enough alike to be twins. We both disagree. We do look alike, startlingly so. Enough alike to be mistaken for brothers, but not twins.

To start with, Yami is much taller. Sorry, boys and girls, but I'm short and that's the way it's probably going to stay. Yami's shoulders are broader, his physique more developed. Our faces are different. Yami's face is sharper and more angular than mine. Finally, our eyes. The color is almost exactly the same, but Yami's have a texture and tone very different from mine. His are rougher, colder, and more calculating. They've sent a lot of people to their deaths terrified, those eyes of his. Only I've seen the gentle look they have, only I've seen them melt in the warmth of our affection.

When I looked him in the eye, warmth spread through me like an unstoppable fire. A fire I didn't want to stop. Completeness. Joy. Every positive emotion you can ever imagine was bursting inside me like fireworks. Those eyes of his, so saturated in everything I was feeling, I thought I saw the film of tears. I wanted to say something, anything to save myself from drowning in those emotions, but I dared not make a sound.

Very few people see Yami near as much as I do, and no one sees him the way I do. He's like a spider's web. He's intricate, so perfectly tangled in his own personal mysteries that even he can't begin to unravel them. He's strong enough to withstand every hardship the world can throw at him, and delicate enough to carry me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch and tuck me in. And finally, he's beautiful. Like a spider's web in the dawn's first light with tiny dewdrops clinging to it. When he lifts his chin and raises his eyebrows, he's beautiful. He's always handsome and attractive, and girls practically fall into his lap, but no one sees his true beauty but me.

Right then, he was all that existed to me. He was my everything. The color of his eyes, the texture of his skin and hair, his scent, it was all the most vivid I had ever experienced. He was intoxicating, but I knew that like the spider's web, he had hidden dangers beneath the beauty. I stared at him, awed, scared, but so complete... It was amazing.

// Aibou?// he thought reluctantly, hesitant to break the wonderful spell that had settled over us.

/ Yes, Yami?/ I responded, equally quiet and hesitant.

// You're crying again.// he told me. I smiled and reached to wipe away the tears that ran unbidden down my face, but he stopped me. His large hands wrapped around my wrists and pushed them back down. Then he reached up and began to wipe the tears away for me. The tender, gentle press of his skin against mine was enough to make me cry more.

Surprisingly, I was the one who started it. It was sudden, like a spasm. My head suddenly lurched forward. But Yami was ready for me. Passion and that addictive feeling of completeness rushed through mine veins as his lips pressed against mine.

Even though I initiated it, he had to guide me on. His experimenting fingers teased up my back, making me shiver. With gentle murmurs that had no lingual meaning, he coaxed my lips into parting, tenderly pushing his tongue into my mouth. His gentle touch grew more persistent, his kisses more earnest.

Up until that point, there had been no time to be scared. Like so many other things that involved him, there had only been time for action. Then it all hit me, like ton of bricks. I was laying on my back, my yami on top of me, kissing me passionately. And I was liking it.

Yami must have sensed my sudden tension, because he sat up rather suddenly. We were still in a very intimate position. In fact, he was straddling me. What was I supposed to do. All I could do was lay there and look up at him. I shuddered a little. Why? Fear? Disgust? I didn't think so. I was scared, yes. Scared of the intensity of the emotions I was feeling, even a little scared of him. But I wasn't disgusted.

For a long moment, we sat there and stared at each other. Then, quite suddenly, he was gone.

" Yami?!" I asked frantically, sitting up. No answer. I didn't try to call him again. I didn't try to get him out of the Puzzle. If he wanted to hide, that was fine with me. See if I cared. But the problem was, I did care. I cared a lot.

The problem about not speaking to your yami is that they never go away. They're always there. You may not know it, but they are. So I went to school the next day, sorely missing the usual bantering in my head, replaced today by a tense silence. My friends had no clue, and I wasn't about to tell them. When Anzu asked how Yami was, I said he was fine. I had no actual clue how he was doing. Jou asked if Yami wanted to duel him, and I said that Yami didn't think he was worth the effort. Jou fumed, and everybody laughed, buy there was still only silence in my head.

I couldn't stop thinking about him, about what had happened. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought about other things. Like the way he touched me, the way he kissed me... the more I thought about how I was drowning. He completed me. We were made for each other. But was it right...? Was what almost happened right? I was drowning in something addictive, so beautifully addictive, it had to be a sin. I thought that it was. I was drowning in his darkness, addicted to him and everything he represented. And God help me, I didn't want to be saved.

" Yugi!" someone called as school let out. I turned my head to see Ryou, running up to me.

" Yeah?" I asked, eager to get him. Ryou paused to catch his breath.

" It happened, right?" he asked. I stared at him.

" What happened?"

" Between you and your yami." Ryou elaborated. I looked away sharply, unable to lie to his face. Ryou had that ability, to make you not want to lie to him. " It's okay." Ryou was quick to add. " I was scared too, when it first happened to me." I gave him a questioning look. " Yeah, he doesn't seem like the type, does he?" he asked with a laugh, referring to his own yami.

" Not really." I said slowly.

" Look, it's scary. I know from experience. But it's not as bad as it looks. No one will ever understand, so don't try to get them to. I still don't entirely understand.

" Okay." I agreed, a little relieved that Ryou was sympathetic to what was plaguing my mind. " Any advice on how to get him to talk to me?"

" What'd you say?" Ryou asked as we started off in the direction of both our homes.

" Nothing! He just isn't talking to me." I said, suddenly very shy. This seemed like a pretty personal thing to be talking about. But then, Ryou was probably the only person in the world that had a clue what I was going through.

" Well, our yamis are a lot alike. They both have really big, really fragile egos." Ryou said. Then he laughed. " And mine is now yelling that yours is the one with the ego." I laughed as well.

" Yeah, I bet he is." I agreed.

Ryou walked with me until he had to go another direction. Then I was on my own. Which was seriously weird if you've become used to always having another presence in your head.

Home was very quiet. The silence used to be a part of my life, what with Grandpa working in the shop and my lack of friends. After Jou and Anzu and Honda all came into my life, things definitely started to liven up. And after Duelist Kingdom, Ryou became a part of the group. And Yami. My life was constantly full of noise and gossip with all of them. Then Malik and Isis, and Shaddi's occasional visits. My life was utter chaos, and I can't say I didn't like it. Even if none of my friends were around, I had Yami. And now, the silence had returned. And it was depressing.

It reminded me of when I was still just a half. Back when I believed that the only one who gave a rat's butt about me was Grandpa. I began to wonder if even that was true. How long had it been since Grandpa had asked me how my day was? I couldn't remember. None of them were here when I needed them. It had always been that way, when I really needed them. Just me and Yami. And now, I had lost him too.

I knew I should eat something. So I started off toward the kitchen. I meant to go to the kitchen. I really did. So you can imagine how I felt when I found myself standing in my room. I looked around myself, marveling at how I had gotten there. And my eyes landed on the bed. Where "it" happened.

I don't know what came over me. One moment, I'm standing there looking at the bed and thinking. The next, I'm blubbering like a baby. All of the sudden, it was too much for me to bear. The feeling that my friends were drifting, my growing emotions for my own yami. It was all too much. So I flung myself on the bed and wailed, content to know no one could hear me, or care.

I don't know how long I cried. It may have been a few minutes, or maybe a few hours. No one cared, no one could hear, so what did it matter? I kept telling myself I was being silly, crying like a little girl, but I didn't stop. Sometimes, people just need to cry. But at some point, I began to notice a gentle hand rubbing my back and stroking my hair. And a deep, soothing voice gently singing a lullaby in Egyptian. But even though the words were foreign, a deep part of me knew them.

" Sleep now, little one,

Know you no fear.

Think only of my love,

And that I'm always here."

I sighed, and my shoulders shook a little involuntarily. I sensed him next to me, sitting on the bed. How could I ever think he would leave me?

" Don't stop." I pleaded softly. I needed to feel him, hear his voice. I needed it more than I needed to breathe. I could feel him smile, and I smiled myself as he lay down next to me and continued stroking my hair and sang on in my ear.

" For as long as the river flows,

And Ra rises with the morn,

May every good soul know

From you I can never be torn."

I guess I breathed in sharply, or tensed, or something, because Yami fell silent beside me. Then, I felt his lips, so soft I was reminded of rose petals and summer rain, against the back of my neck. It gave me the most wonderful goosebumps I'd ever had.

" Aibou, if you want me to stop, I will." He whispered. God, I didn't want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop. I wanted it to go on forever. But just like before, I couldn't speak. So I shook my head no. Again, his lips fluttered against my neck. So light and gentle. I wanted to roll over and look him in the eye, but I was melted to a quivering mass in his arms. He put his arm over me, around my middle, and pulled me against him, my back against his chest. Through both our leather shirts and the thick muscles on his chest, I could feel his heart.

Everyone thinks Yami is dead. If he is, tell me this; how can a dead sweat? How can a dead guy's heart pound? Because Yami's heart was pounding. I felt it very acutely, pounding against my back. That's a funny thing about us. My heart will beat, and in the off beat, his heart will beat, almost as though answering mine. It's like a nonstop song of beats.

His hand teased up my chest. A very small part of me wanted to plead with him to stop, but I paid no heed to it. I still didn't know if it was right, but... How can something that felt so good be wrong? The funny thing is, they say the road to Hell begins with the best intentions. His lips pressed to the back of my neck, and I could feel the rough wetness of his tongue. I knew what he wanted. I could feel his emotions and desires as sharply as I felt his body against mine. His hand found the buckles of my shirt, and he began to fumble with them blindly. I smiled softly and rolled so that I lay on my back. That made it easier for him.

Ryou was right. No one else would ever understand. They'd never understand the beauty of what happened between us that night. No one else would understand my addiction. Only Yami understands. How is it so hard to understand? I don't know. All I know is that even if the rest of the world rejects us, I have him. I'll always have him.

Light is drawn to dark. Dark is drawn to light.

This is my reality, my addiction. I'm drowning in his darkness, but please don't save me. I'm addicted to it, and what you think is for my own good might kill me. As long as I have him, I'm okay. Addicted, but okay.

The End

A/N: Oh my God. I cannot believe I wrote that. (slams head on keyboard) Well, the good news is I feel much better now. ^_^; You can expect the next part of TGOL soon. Sometime. As soon as I write it. Yeah, I like that one. Oh yeah, Yami's song is mine. If you wanna use it, please ask. And if I made any mistakes, just be gentle. Now click the pretty little review button and remind me about how I've totally lost it.

P.S.- Just so you know, I have absolutely nothing against yaoi. I just can't believe I wrote it. Thank you for reading... I think.