Note: so, this is my first fanfic ever, and my first lemon. Please don't judge me harshly. Um, this series will have non-con later on, so if you don't like that sort of thing I advise you not read anymore now. Hm, s'pose that's it huh?

Disclaimer: I own nothing, if I did there wouldn't be so many straight boys in the world.


I was staring into space with a blank look on my face. How did I know? I was watching my reflection in the window. He was getting wet, raindrops carving trails down his cheeks.

I had a different kind of reflection as well. His name was Bakura, and he wasn't home yet. Lately, as in the last few years, it's been very bad when he gets home. I started when I turned 13 and he realized I wasn't growing. I remained a solid 5 inches shorter and my body maintained its feminine softness. My eyes, no matter how hard I tried, never picked up that cold malice that Bakura's held. My arms would not harden with muscle the way his did. Even my hair rebelled, or rather refused to, staying thin and wavy, rather than wild and unruly. In other words, I did not grow into the man my darker half had once been years ago, before his spirit had been trapped in the ring that hung around my neck.

The boy at my school, Yugi, he lives with his darkness. But they're friends. Bakura and I haven't anything so tender. Yugi calls his darker half Yami. Bakura and Yami used to fight, taking over our bodies and challenging each other. Something happened between them, I'm not sure what, but something that convinced them to stop fighting with each other.

The oven timer dinged, and I snapped out of my stupor, well, as much as I usually do these days. I took the baked potato out of the oven and put it on the table with the steak, cooked ultra rare, and the bottle of beer. It wasn't for me. I hadn't eaten. Not because of anything Bakura had said, I just didn't want anything.

The door swung open, Bakura was home. He always came home at about the same time. He walked into the kitchen of the small apartment we shared, and sat down at the table without so much as a glance at me. Though that was to be expected, actually I preferred it. When he paid attention to me it was usually to yell at me or beat me again. I started to walk out of the room.

"Ryou." Bakura said. I didn't turn around since I was behind him now and he wouldn't see me facing away, but I did stop walking. "Sit down." I licked my lips nervously. This could be bad. But I sat in the seat across from him and watched him eat for a few minutes. He didn't look up, didn't speak, just ate. Eventually I stopped watching him, turning my gaze to the wall behind him. I spaced out. Lost in my own thoughts till he started talking again.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked. I blinked in confusion for a moment.

"Yes." I lied. It didn't matter, I could eat later if I got hungry. Bakura grunted and I went back to my daydream.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked. I looked at him in surprise.

"P-pardon?" He glared at me.

"You heard me." I licked my lips again and blushed. I hated that. It made me look even more feminine.

"I was thinking about my homework." More lies. Bakura stabbed a piece of steak with his fork and waved the bloody meat at me.

"Why the fuck to you lie to me Ryou? We share a mind link. I can tell when your fucking lying!" he yelled. He started to say something else, but one particularly violent fling of the meat sent a blood droplet splattering onto my face. Bakura fell silent, mouth still open and a strange look on his face. A strangled noise came out of his mouth and I scooted back in my seat. My eyes widened, this was bad, very. very bad. I stood and started to leave the room, muttering something about having a lot of homework to get done. But I only made it to the doorway before Bakura shot up from his seat and pushed me against the wall. His forearm was across my chest, pressing into my throat but as soon as he started he stopped. I pressed my lips together to stop myself from making a sound. I was scared, not unaccustomed to the violence, that happened too often here for me to be surprised, but I knew something was different, and often with Bakura different was bad.

His face loomed closer to mine, his red tinted eyes trained on the spot of blood on my cheek. I couldn't help it. A whimper escaped me.

"P-please," I whispered so quietly the sound barely even reached my ears. I'm still not sure what happened next. Maybe he listened and finally took mercy on me, though that didn't make much sense, or maybe he simply changed his mind, decided that I wasn't worth the time; but he let go of me and let me leave the room.

When I was safely tucked away in my room and could feel Bakura forcibly closing the mind link between us I finally let myself return to my daydream.

In it everything was pretty much the same as real life. Bakura and I shared a small flat in Japan, close enough to my high school that I could walk. In fact the only thing different was Bakura. In my daydream he acted the same as when I was young. When I was young he would talk to me, tell me stories of Egypt, and even, only when he thought I was asleep, he would tell me bits of his childhood. In my dream he was kind, and forgiving of my shortcomings. I closed my eyes.

He would come through my bedroom door, and I would look up from the homework I was pretending to do. In truth I would be waiting for him to come. He would lean against the door and smile at me. I would put down my book and he would sit down on my bed and talk to me. He would ask me how my day was, were my classes okay? How are my friends? Did I need any help with my homework? Then he would lean forward on my bed, coming closer and closer to me. Then he would kiss me.

My eyes shot open, expecting to see a very angry Bakura to come storming through the door. But the mind link was still closed, he hadn't heard me. I was free. For now.

He would push me down onto the bed, never breaking the kiss. His hands would wander up my legs, and stop at my pants. He would push them off my hips and pull my shirt off my back, leaving me in just my boxers. I would finally pull at his shirt, and he would smile and pull off his own shirt, letting me look at his muscled chest. I would reach up and finally, finally run my hands over the pale skin. He wouldn't let me revel in him for long. He would lean back down and kiss me again, rubbing our erections together. Then he would move back, and stick his fingers in my mouth. I would get the hint and suck, knowing where they were going. Then his pants and my boxers would be gone, and he would push my legs apart, gently. He would begin to prepare me, pushing in one finger at a time and slowly scissoring them, stretching me. Then he would line himself up with me, and push in. He would pause then, and allow me to adjust to his size. Then he would move, and I would die of pleasure. He would push and pull back, and slide back into me, slowly and steadily he would make love to me, all the while kissing my neck and whispering his love in my ear. He would find that spot inside me, and start to gently nudge it. Pushing in and out again. Then, finally, I would come first, moaning his name. Then he would come after me, moaning mine. After the sex we would cuddle up in my bed together and he would hold me till the morning.

But, I wasn't sure of what exactly would happen. I was a virgin, but pretty sure Bakura wasn't. I sat up and sighed, happy with my daydream.


What Ryou didn't know was that Bakura was downstairs having a similar daydream. But without all the gentleness. He couldn't get the image of that small drop of blood interrupting the smooth creaminess of his cheek. How would the rest of his body look, covered in blood? What would his screams sound like if Bakura were to rape him? Of course he would beg for mercy, he always did. And his skin would bruise in that fantastic shade of purple. His skin must taste sweet right? How would it feel to have those chocolate eyes turned up to him in fear and pain?

Bakura pushed his hand into his pants and wrapped his fingers around the hard length inside. A few practiced pulls and a few images of the hikari writhing underneath him had him coming.

Please review, otherwise this might become a one-shot.