Disclaimer: 'k, so I admit to not owning Yu-gi-oh, but I actually do own the poem "Affection?".

A/N: Yes, I'm afraid this silly story does contain an original poem. I don't think it's totally horrible, though. Well, maybe. I don't make a habit of writing poetry, after all. (shock) Could it be? Am I actually complying with ff net's rules for once? (grin) Yes, for the apparent masses of you who don't know, other peoples' lyrics and poetry in your fics are not allowed. Though it might just be the masses of you who don't care, considering as how I usually don't... Heh hem, Warning! I'm afraid I must also note that this story has been edited, yes,edited. As in, the general shonen-ai-ness has been greatly decreased. Beware. Or else just go to my bio and find the link for the unedited version under the section marked 'Attention' ;) Why doesn't ff net let you put URLs in stories, hmm? (shrug) Well, even if my poetry turns out to be crap, I hope you at least like the story :)


Ah, summer! 'The dog days of summer.' Well, for some people, anyway. Summer means cram school for a lot of people these days - all my best friends, for instance. I give a contented sigh and roll over onto my back. Sunlight as seen through green leaves is the only thing on my mind. I'm too poor for cram school, after all. My eyes flutter lazily shut. And I suppose he's too rich.

An infection with a feeling,

A flexion of the light...

A shadow falls over my hot face. I would've ignored it, but the scent of... something... makes me open my eyes. Damn that sun - the scent of a silhouette. I don't realize who it is until I hear his infamous sneering voice.

"Mutt. You're in my spot."

A sudden image of Seto Kaiba as a playground bully makes me laugh out loud, but I keep the joke to myself and simply close me eyes again. I can feel his dissatisfied frown.

"Get up, Jonouchi."

Normally I would have been on my feet and all ready for a fight by now, but I guess it's just too hot. The slightest hint of a smirk graces my lips and I still don't bother to open my eyes as I drawl, "Make me, moneybags."

As predicted, I hear an irritable sigh. He does surprise me a bit, however, when he sits down on the other side of tree and unsnaps his briefcase. "In this heat? You're not worth it. That's subject to change, of course."

Yeah, that's pretty weird. I crack one eye open thoughtfully. No way would he back down from a fight. And if he did back down from a fight, no way would he actually sit at the same tree as me. ...Well, that takes all the fun out of it. I'm always on edge around him - I mean, who wouldn't be? Except now I can't leave. It's a matter of pride, of course. (Of course). I open my other eye. Therefore... he's gotta go.

"Whatchya doin'?"

Silence. I grin. "I said, whatchya-"


An answer? How nice, he's actually rising to the bait after all. "What kinda work?"

"You wouldn't understand it."

I roll over onto my stomach again and try to peek over his shoulder. "Bet I would!"

He shuts his book with a snap and tries to wave me away. "Hey, get-"

I laugh as I catch sight of the title in spite of his best efforts. "Hey, that's just our summer homework! You haven't finished it yet?"

Kaiba scowls. "It's a waste of time," he snaps, somewhat pointedly I think. Lots of people would pretty much shrivel up and die in the face of his harsh tones, but it just serves to fuel my amusement.

"This is great!" I exclaim, grinning from ear to ear now. "Since you haven't finished it either, but you understand it so much better than me, you can tutor me!"

The master duelist arches a delicate eyebrow. "I thought you hated me, mutt."

I nod cheerfully. He glares again and turns away to look straight forward.

"You do realize that I could have you thrown out of this park, right?"


"You do realize that I could even have you permanently banned from this park, right?"


And then he shocks me, really shocks me, by giving a long-suffering sigh... and opening the book again, with a neutral glance in my direction. "Well, what parts don't you understand?"

Well, I tried to get him to go away.

An infection with a feeling,

A flexion of the light -

Infatuation, burning bright.

It's the next day, same place, same time, and he's staring down at me with such a delightfully shocked look that I just have to grin. "What are you doing here?" he manages to get out, in the strangled tones one usually reserves for chewed gum on the bottom of one's shoe.

"The same thing I was doing here yesterday!" I hold up my workbook in demonstration. "I'm here to be tutored, of course!"

I can tell from his expression that he'd probably be pounding me into the ground right now, if only it weren't so friggin' hot. "I'm not doing school today," he grounds out.

I beam. "So? I'll work on it by myself, and if I have any questions, I'll just ask."

His knuckles are white around the handle of his briefcase - hilarious. A little scary, too, but still. "No. Absolutely not. Go away, Wheeler."

I stick out my tongue, pleasantly surprised at my own childishness. "I was here first."

He glares daggers, and for a moment I wonder if I've gone a bit too far, but then he just sits down in a huff. I grin giddily.

I don't know why, but all day I've been feeling insanely cheerful. I guess it's because I've finally found something to do with my summer - what could be more fun than annoying Kaiba, right? (Sure...)

"So... in problem 36, I was wondering, how do you get from x to y...?"

He scowls over his shoulder at me, but then he grabs the workbook and skims over problem 36.

Why is everybody always so scared of his scowls? They're rather pretty, actually...

Save me from this dank abyss...!

I'm glad this park is so old. I'm glad because, since the park is old, the trees are old too. Because they're so old, their trunks are really wide. Because their trunks are so wide, Seto and I can both lean against the same side, so long as we sit shoulder to shoulder.

"No, that's not right at all! When he repeats the phrase in the second stanza, it's meant to invoke a sense of irony..."

In one ear and out the other is the phrase, I believe. The phrase that applies, I mean. I honestly have no idea what phrase he's talking about; I'm merely acutely aware that he'd talking. What deep, harsh, strong voice... Summer vacation is winding down now, and I'm only lucky enough to have work left because I've been being as stupid as I possibly can, these past few weeks - a feat that seems to be getting easier every day, I might add.

I'm snapped out of my daze when he raps the pencil sharply on the top of my head. "Shit! Ow!" He just smirks.

"Pay attention. Now... honestly, did you even read the third stanza...?"

And I do try, because I don't want to risk him really getting fed up with me. It's hard, however. It's already a hot day as it is, but I don't really mind the heat coming through his clothes that much. It's a wonder he isn't too hot; he always insists on wearing trench coats... and high-collared shirts... for some reason, those collars annoy me... And yet he never sweats; he always smells clean and crisp, even if it's a hundred out. I find myself wondering nonsensically what he smells like when he sweats... then I find myself kissing him...

It was just a little kiss, after all. Barely more than a peck. And no one was looking. There's no need to look so shock. And yet, for some reason, he's walking away...

Save me from this dank abyss!

The knife thrusts deeper into my wrist...

He never comes on Sundays. I guess on Sundays he's usually at his house, across town, instead of at work. Plus it's raining; he'd never come when it's raining. But then again, he never comes anymore.

Why am I here? I stare down at the muddy ground at the base of the tree where we always used to sit. I suppose I'm being a little overdramatic. 'He never comes anymore.' 'Always used to sit.' It's only been five days, and it's been raining for three of them. But the future is a gaping, lonely hole - I know he isn't going to come. Five days, five years, what's the difference?

I sit in the mud, alone. The rain is cold - autumn is coming. I sit in the mud, alone, and tell my feelings to the understanding downpour.

Save me from this dank abyss!

The knife thrusts deeper into my wrist -

And I call for you.

It stopped raining on Tuesday. It started again on Friday, though. It's Sunday now, and I'm sitting in the mud. He isn't coming.

Why am I here? School starts again on Thursday, and I haven't gotten my homework done.

Why am I here?

I close my eyes. I'm too dramatic. I'm too in love (when did that happen?). I'm waiting for... something... waiting for...

The scent of a silhouette.

I open my eyes and stare up for a long time. This can't be real. Oh, I had my eyes closed - that's always a telltale sign that the character is asleep in stories, right? I must be dreaming.

But he doesn't look like a dream. He's no looming silhouette today; actually, he's dripping wet. Someone like him ought to have an umbrella.

And then, after a long time, he says, "You're in my spot."

I stand up, but I don't move. He takes one step forward, but nothing more. We stare at each other for a long time. Did you know that his eyes are really, really blue?

And then, somehow, we're kissing. Our mouths collide with explosive force, and he's pressing my body up against the rough tree, pressing his hot tongue into my mouth. I'm being devoured from the inside out - but that can't be right, because it doesn't sound like it would feel anywhere near as good as this.

His kiss leaves me gaping like a fish. Even the great CEO takes a few moments to regain his composure. Then he pushes my dripping hair off my face and shakes his head in amazement. "Don't tell me... You haven't been coming here all this time, have you?"

I shrug. What else would I be doing?

He shakes his head again. Then he kisses me again, and all my questions suddenly seem less important. I'd like the know why he's back, what he decided, what made him change his mind, why he's kissing me - something along those lines - but it's just not that important right now. Everything is muddy and wet, but kisses are wet too so that's okay. I'm actually really thankful for the rain, because it means we have the whole park to ourselves. The bark is rough against my bare back but I don't care, and I don't care about when I lost my shirt in the first place either, because Seto is lavishing kisses and bites all across my chest. I don't seem to care about a lot of things right now, all in all.

An infection with a feeling...

We fall to the ground - a pile of wet, sweaty, muddy, sticky, steaming limbs - and we lay there for a little while. His arms are so comfortable, I reflect hazily. Eventually he comes to enough to reach up and cup my face.

"I..." Damn hesitation. He starts over, says, "Would you like me to drive you home?"

I smile, in spite of the accursed hesitation. "Yeah."

An infection with a feeling,

A feeling for another...

He left me outside my apartment building with the parting words of 'do your homework'. I hadn't even told him that I hadn't finished it yet. I thought that it might be a hint that he was willing to tutor me again, but when I went to the tree on Monday he wasn't there. He wasn't there on Tuesday, either. He continued to not be there on Wednesday. I did my homework anyway.

And now it's Thursday - the start of the new school year. My senior year. Gee. I'm slumped down in my seat as far as I can go, staring moodily at the filling-up classroom.

I wonder if I'll have any of the same classes as him this year? I wonder if he's in this class? Probably not; almost everybody is here already. It would make sense for me to have at least some classes with him, but then again...

A lot of things have been going through my head these last few days. At first I wondered if he just needed some space, some time to himself to think things over. He took his time before, after all, and came around eventually. Of course, he took so much time that you would've thought he wouldn't need any more. Then I had an unpleasant thought. What if he'd just thought he had things figured out, but after being with me, he realized that it was all... well, just some dumb infatuation?

He never did say that he loved me, after all.

The classroom is almost all filled up. In a vague sort of way I note that almost all the seats are taken. Sensei will be here soon. I'm so lost in my own thoughts that I don't even notice the person behind me, until I hear the husky voice in my ear.

"You're in my spot."

And I realize, right then and there, that saying 'I love you' just isn't a Seto-ish sort of thing. I also know that I'll get him to say it to me eventually.

An infection with a feeling,

A flexion of the light -

Infatuation, burning bright.

Save me from this dank abyss!

The knife thrusts deeper into my wrist -

And I call for you.

An infection with a feeling,

A feeling for another-