Fluffy. Good word for this oneshot. R&R!
As the breathing of the small body next to him evened out, Bakura relaxed and sat up slowly. He glanced down at the tiny form of his lover and let a rare smile cover his face. Only in the absolute darkness of his very private bedroom. Only away from the prying eyes of everyone, including his beloved, could he let the smile touch his eyes. His hand reached out and tangled itself in Ryou's downy white locks, careful not to tug any of them lest he wake his love. His Hikari had a small smile on his relaxed features, content after a tiring night of making love. Bakura did his job to keep Ryou interested, not giving in to emotions too quickly. He didn't want to lose the one thing that could make him feel whole. He hadn't felt so safe since his childhood, long before dark thoughts of murder and terrible pharaohs entered his innocent mind.
Ryou had a way of bringing out the best in him, melting away the icy shield the former King of Thieves put up. To Ryou he was just Bakura, his lover, not a thief, not a killer, not a spirit in an inanimate object. Just Bakura. He loved that about his beautiful one, the way he could hold him so close and have him not flinch away as Bakura lifted a hand to caress his cheek. It was amazing and left him thanking the Gods he had once cursed so vehemently. And yet, he was unable to truly show his love his feelings. In daylight, he was cruel and oppressive to Ryou. Crushing his every dream and leaving the boy questioning his sanity. But behind closed doors and out of Ryou's sight, he worshiped his young Hikari. There was not a thing he wouldn't do for his lovely Ryou.
His only hope was that one day he could give the world to Ryou and show him this confusing paradox that was his heart. He knew, should that day come, that undoubtedly Ryou would understand. For all that he has done to hurt Ryou, the boy still kept his bed and arms warm every night. Perhaps that's why the fit so perfectly; they were both, in their own way, beautifully twisted paradoxes.