Hehheh…this is my miserable attempt at writing proper typical romance/fluff. A very very miserable try. DON'T EXPECT ANYTHING really good, uploading test number two.

Prepare to be very very confused.


"Damn pharaoh," Bakura muttered, idly kicking a pebble as he tore at his sandwich.

He was sitting relatively peacefully on a bench, pouring every blame he could think of onto said pharaoh, who then simultaneously appeared.

"Thief?" Pharaoh asked, Bakura's insult going right through his ears. Bakura's heart jumped at the sudden noise, but made no movement to show his surprise. In fact, he made no signs of acknowledgement despite knowing full well that Pharaoh wanted a response. Not everyone gets what they want, he sneered.

Apparently that was the wrong move, as Pharaoh smirked in victory and glided smoothly to the spot next to him. The thief can't stand his presence.

Bakura, of course, took that as a challenge, and shifted closer, measuring the distance between Pharaoh and the end of the bench from beneath his bangs. He ignored the peculiar flutter at the pit of his stomach, passing it off as his digestive system merely operating before appointed time as he ripped another bite.

Pharaoh, however, did not seem to understand his brilliant revenge tactic, looking at him in confusion and a side bit of worry – for himself, of course. He shifted over a few inches to prevent himself from being target to any sort of illness that Bakura seemed to be carrying. After a few moments, he scooted back closer. Just for the sake of it.

"…What are you doing here?" he asked, trying to break the awkward silence, knowing he could just stand up and leave. Bakura spoke, knowing that he had lost the first game anyway. Besides, he could use it to his advantage – some eternal scarring won't hurt. Not him, at least.

"Well you see, Pharaoh, my sweet innocent little light and his dear friend…"

Clean, Yugi-washed Pharaoh somehow got the hint and nodded a bit too early, a bit too fast. Realizing this after a few moments, he slowed his pace and ended up nodding continuously like he had a fatal issue. Bakura laughed and pointed, then suddenly remembered his earlier quest to 'accidentally' force Pharaoh off the bench. Thus, he scooted inwards, thoroughly amused. Repel, pharaoh, he thought, repel! A wide grin threatened to appear, the corners of his lips twitching dangerously, so he grit his teeth together to make it look more like an evil smirk. Yami actually thought that he just looked funny, though considering Bakura was a lunatic, it had the desired effect and Yami – er…Pharaoh…shifted away.

In truth, Bakura had been thinking about Pharaoh. Pharaoh was the only thing on his mind when he headed out the door (not that Ryou and Marik weren't shaking the floor) and the thing his hikari only gave him support. Pharaoh across the road, Pharaoh through the woods, Pharaoh on the bench…

"So…" Yami started.

…And just then, pharaoh's name.

And pharaoh's face, from his eyes to his lips and downwards and the damn leather and - Bakura's head immediately snapped back up. Yami since last year.

…Well, he could appreciate beauty, can't he?

Then he is tired. This new, interesting little revelation had been fueled from his already deteriorating brain cells, and now all he wants is sleep. Yami is not pharaoh anymore, after all. He sighed and leaned sideways.

"What – " Yami started, but was cut off by Bakura, who shifted slightly against him to make himself comfortable.

"Shut up, pharaoh," the thief interrupted, but the menace had long vanished from his disrespect.

-

Bakura's eyes snap open upon the meow of a cat.

On instinct, he is immediately cautious, eyes wide and alert as they rapidly scan the area for potential danger. When nothing seemed amiss, he sagged back down warily, still tired. It was only then that he registered the feeling of something – no, someone – against his back, and froze.

Then he remembered Yami, and the flutter happened again, only this time the sandwich was forgotten and half inside a patch of drying mud. The blue-ish-gray hues of the night sky did no justice to its appearance, of which Bakura grimaced at.

Something clicked.

…It was late…

…and they were still out here. Alone.

Together.

"…Shit," Bakura grumbles, his voice a little hoarse from disuse. Yami stirs against his back, and he immediately tenses, waiting for his breathing to even out. When it did, Bakura looked around for possible passbyers who might see what he was about to do…

As gently as he could, he quietly moved away from Yami until they were a safe distance apart. He had a heart, hidden and rusted as it was, but it was still there. Once again, he looked around. If there was even one witness…

Good.

No one would know.

He then proceeded to take off his jacket, then his shirt, willing himself to not shiver in the light breeze though no one was around. What would they say if they saw a borderline albino stripping randomly in the middle of the park? Well, at the side. But Yami was also there…what would he say? Probably point and fall over laughing.

Since he had not yet taken off his jacket when Yami was awake, he mused, rather naively, then he would not know that the shirt was his. It was perfect. He zipped up his jacket and picked up his shirt, wondering which placing position would make Yami more resistance to the wind.

Yeah, definitely point and fall over laughing.

"Stupid," he grumbled as he continued to search, but realized he was getting sidetracked, so he just draped the piece over Yami's body. A second later, he pulled at the ends to make a wider spread. "Damn pharaoh."

You better not catch a cold.


I'm sick again D: Review if you consider yourself an awesome person.