Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

A/N: I wrote this in November of '04. I suddenly woke up with this image in my head after speaking with Fickle Goddess the night before and this is what I came up with. Something short and fairly simple.

Pairing: Yami no Malik x Yami no Bakura and implied Seto "lusting" after one of the two yami's.

And yet, another AU...

Oh yes, constructive crit is okay, but bashing is unnecessary.

Disclaimer: Not only do I not make money off of this, but I obviously don't own Yuugioh, only Yuugioh-related items.

Seto Kaiba was not imagining slender tanned fingers roaming over the pale body beneath him, nor was he imagining the tanned figure trailing kisses down that same figure. No, Seto was not imagining the tanned figure thrusting himself into the figure beneath him, nor was he imagining pale slender arms snaking themlseves around the neck of the tanned male. Seto had no reason to have such thoughts of the Egyptian with the thief, let alone even care.

The thoughts weren't real, not that he was even admitting he was having them to begin with. Instead of working on his laptop, he was sitting with his head in his hands trying to clear himself of such thoughts. Thoughts that someone like himself shouldn't even be bothering himself with; nor caring about the thoughts enough to distract him to begin with. No, the thoughts weren't real. Just like magic and fairy tales and other such things that others tried to convince him of existed. There was reality. Reality that didn't have magic, fairy tales or happiness.

Even when he had walked in to see Yami no Malik sprawled out on top of Yami no Bakura, both nude and neither moving when he stepped into the room. Even when they decided to ignore that Seto had walked in, which he promptly turned around and casually left the room. Even after closing the door behind him and imagining himself beneath the Egyptian, instead of that of a thief. Instead of him. Even after those thoughts that crossed his mind, he still remained in denial. Just like many times before. Denial. Denial that would never get him anywhere like the hard work of reality did. His reality. His reality that doesn't make room for him to be happy; only room for work, his brother and denial.