Important Author's Note: Alright, guys, I allegedly retired from fan fiction writing, but I've gotten bored over the summer and started rewatching Yu-gi-oh from the beginning. I haven't seen it since I was around eleven years old, and I'd forgotten how perfect this show is for fan fiction. I have a few very important notes for you before I begin this: I only ever made it to about the beginning of season 4 of this show-no further-so there are plenty of little plot twists and things that I'm unaware of (for example, I saw a fic the other day that mentioned Yami/Atem had his own body. I have no idea about any of that, but I'm going to go ahead and adopt it for plot purposes). As a result, this fic is going to be kind of AU, but not really. It basically assumes that Yugi won Battle City, everything went back to normal, and sometime in there (which shall be revealed) Yami got his own body. Also, I'm probably going to end up using everyone's American names because that's what I'm used to. If you're one of those stuck up fans who thinks writers have to use only original content from the story in their fics, do me a huge favor and go fuck yourself. I say that with love, trust me. I have exactly zero patience for crazed fan girls who want to screech at me in garbled engrish. It's really just not that serious, and I am not about to get in a pissing contest over who knows more random Yu-gi-oh trivia. We're all fans here, and we should be able to respect the work that goes in to writing these fics so that everyone else can enjoy them. Also, I'm a huge fan of YGO: The Abridged Series and will undoubtedly quote it all over the place.
Anyways, I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this, but if any of my old fans are still out there and reading this, you know that's pretty much how I always operate. We shall see what comes of it. This fic is going to be HARDCORE yaoi, with a metric fuck ton of swearing, sex, booze, debauchery, and prideshipping. The characters are going to be doing stupid, reckless things like smoking, doing drugs, and having unprotected, premarital sex, because in make-believe fan fiction world, it will only hurt them if I write that it hurts them. In the name of good writing and good fun, I include these things in my fics, but naturally I am not trying to suggest to any young, impressionable minds that anything you see here is a good thing to emulate. If you don't like it, you may join the people I mentioned above and also go fuck yourself. Maybe you can all get together and make an event of it or form a support group.
Happy reading, everyone, and please review. Reviews determine how graphic all of my sex scenes will be, how long the fic itself is, and how often I update.
ONE FINAL REALLY IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic contains time shifts that will gradually reveal the plot. This is taking place AFTER BATTLE CITY and the debacle in Noah's virtual world.
I'm not going to be putting a disclaimer on any of my chapters because I don't think those actually serve a purpose. Does anyone here honestly believe I created Yu-gi-oh? Are you really going to report me to the cyber police for not clearly stating that what is obviously not mine is indeed not mine? How did disclaimers even get started around here?
I am, however, dedicating this fic to my three partners in crime: Dyan, Teal, and Gunslinger. You guys rock my fucking world.
Wax dripped down the sides of three long candles strategically placed around the room to brighten the darkest corners. The fire illuminated but did nothing to lighten the mood. Moonlight splashed through holes in the wood walls, and smoke hung heavy in the air. The bar-few of the people who stumbled in bothered to learn its name-was murky, dirty, and oppressively rickety. It was designed to shield the identities of its patrons, to conceal envelopes passed from one hand to the next, and to deaden the sound of murmured orders.
Yami did his best not to glance around the room every few seconds. It was fairly large: much longer than it was wide and with a single doorway. The actual bar was placed in the center with stools surrounding it, and a smattering of armchairs covered in threadbare fabric were tucked against the walls. Yami felt cold stares piercing him from the dark figures sitting in the chairs, or maybe he was just paranoid.
The youth's entire body felt like one giant pile of ash. He looked blearily at the cigarette resting between his fingers, silently cursing it. His throat burned from the excessive amount of alcohol he'd gulped down, and the smoking certainly wasn't helping. Had he spoken to anyone in the shithole of a bar, his voice probably would've sounded like he'd had a pack-a-day habit for twenty years. Yami couldn't really recall when he had picked up smoking. It had happened gradually, undoubtedly a result of the fact that he'd begun frequenting bars with ever-increasing fervor. One day he'd politely declined the dark faces that offered him cancer sticks; the next day he was easily working himself through two packs to every bottle of cheap whiskey he slugged down his throat. Oh how the times had changed.
He had another shot in front of him; it was challenging him. The King of Game's stomach told him no, but his head was still clear enough to recognize that he'd had more than enough to drink. That clarity was a problem. He plucked the shot off the polished counter and downed it without so much as a hiccup.
He needed to lose control. He needed to forget.
The bartender hadn't bothered to card him. One look at the grim set of his otherwise youthful face and the plentiful cash he'd slapped down on the bar, and he'd kept the shots coming. Yami couldn't even say what he was drinking. It smelled like poison and tasted even worse.
It was perfect.
Yami took a final drag on his umpteenth cigarette before crushing it in an overflowing ashtray. The room was moving, but it needed to be spinning. His brain was fuzzy, but it needed to be silent. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the past, to dwell on the mistakes that had led him to where he was now. He'd been cocky. He'd been stupid. He'd done his time in purgatory, and now he just wanted to fucking forget.
Yugi and his friends had understood. Somehow, without any words exchanged, they had stopped calling. They had stopped inviting him out with them, stopped including him in their jokes and laughter, and stopped looking at him with confusion when he drifted off into silent contemplation mid-sentence. It seemed they all eventually caught on: something had happened to Yami between the time they entered the Battle City Tournament and the time they escaped from Noah's virtual world. Something had caused Yami's already somber face to fall even further. The commanding gleam in his eyes had turned into one of uncertainty. They knew the pharaoh would come to them when he was ready to talk, and in the meantime they were kind enough to give him some space.
Yami needed a chance to get his head on straight. He had to figure out exactly what it was he was fighting for. More importantly, he had to figure out what he was living for.
A shadow fell over Yami's pale face, but he didn't bother to look up. He could feel the heat from the body standing near him, hovering more like it. Even after chasing rum with vodka, his senses were honed enough to tell him that the body wasn't getting a drink. It was observing him.
"I've been searching for you, Yami."
The Egyptian youth recognized the rumbling voice instantly. A scent drifted to his nose: expensive cologne and even more expensive scotch. There was a hint of something else, and it had taken Yami months to identify it: cinnamon. The smell of cinnamon was so fitting for the individual that bore it: spicy and raw and earthy. Finally, he drew his purple-red eyes up and tried to focus on the speaker's face. It was a young man: soft brown hair, electric blue eyes, high cheek bones, full lips, and a constant look of mild annoyance chiseled into his streamlined features. The bar's dim light faded the details but could not hide the smooth lines and dramatic coloring that comprised this imposing youth. His lithe body was encased in stunning black Versace dress wear with a matching tie knotted casually around his neck as if five hundred dollars worth of silk meant nothing to him. Naturally, he'd thrown one of his signature long coats over his shoulders, this one a blue so dark it shamed the midnight sky. As if to simulate stars, safety pins and studs punctuated the collar, sleeves, and high lapels. It was clear the coat had been custom tailored to hug Kaiba's form. It fit him like a dream: accentuating his broad shoulders and marble chest that melted down into a flat stomach and narrow hips.
"Seto Kaiba," Yami growled. His voice sounded threatening, but there was no real venom behind the words. He was battling all the damage he'd done to his throat this month. It was truly a small miracle that he hadn't lost his voice already. "You've got the wrong man, sweetheart." Yami prided himself on managing not to slur his words. "Yami isn't here anymore."
"Spare me the dramatics, Yami. Drunken slob or not, there's no mistaking that ridiculous hair of yours." Out of the corner of his eye, Yami saw Kaiba cross his arms: an obvious sign of irritation. It amused the pharaoh that his old rival could never manage to contain his emotions around him. To everyone else, he was like gazing at the calm surface of a lake: he reflected their own anxiety back at them and used it as a weapon. It was one of the many ways in which he dominated his opponents in both business and Duel Monsters.
It just so happened that Yami had spent a lot of time figuring out how to gaze beneath that tranquil surface to the raging currents beneath. Kaiba stood tall and proud, a vision of self-discipline and insurmountable confidence. Little did the brunet know, Yami was the one who was really in control of this conversation.
He glanced at the bar. Another shot glass had appeared in front of him as if by magic, filled to the brim with dark liquid. He'd have to leave the bartender a generous tip. He was an absolute saint.
"Why are you wasting your time in this run-down dump?" Kaiba's voice positively hummed with superiority.
Yami hesitated with his hand halfway extended to grab the glass. It hung there for a moment, his long fingers twitching restlessly. Their color was dull ivory in the murky light. Dead. They looked dead. Slender and white like a skeleton. He clenched his fist to rid himself of the unwanted vision.
Yami kept his iridescent eyes glued to a spot on the far wall as he grabbed the glass and tossed its contents down his throat. He said nothing in response to Kaiba's question. Silence hung heavily between them. He wondered if all the darkened faces in the bar were watching the exchange.
"I asked your little friends about you," Kaiba continued, his voice flat but clear. "They were reluctant at first to give me the information I sought, but we both know how good I am at getting what I want." Yami was looking anywhere but at the slender man next to him, half-hoping if he just pretended the brunet wasn't there, it would come true and he could sink back down into his silent misery. "They said you've been virtually MIA lately. You sleep all day while the others are in school, drink all night, and you haven't touched a dueling disk in weeks."
"Great story, doll face, but do you have a point?"
Kaiba growled under his breath. If there was one thing the CEO hated, it was being interrupted. "I'm getting to that, snookums."
Yami flinched. "Snookums" was the closest thing to an inside joke that the two rivals had, and it wasn't a happy one. Back in the good old days of furious rivalry, Yami had taken to calling Kaiba an assortment of ridiculous pet names simply because it infuriated him. The behavior was inspired by the brunet's penchant for calling Jounouchi a mutt. Kaiba, however, had happened upon the absolute winner. When he really wanted Yami to shut the fuck up, that was when he pulled out the trump card of all ridiculous pet names: snookums.
"My point is this: you're losing it, and it's pathetic to watch."
Yami threw his head back and laughed, the sound bitter and grating like screeching metal. "I don't know what 'it' is," he pivoted his torso so he could face Kaiba as he spoke, "but I probably never had it to begin with. If I did, I would have known better than to get involved with you."
Kaiba said nothing, merely stared at Yami with an intensity that couldn't be matched. Yami's smile was like broken glass. "Admit it, Kaiba. You don't even know why you're here. You don't know what's going through my head because you know more about my dueling deck than you know about me as a person. You got what you wanted from me during Battle City and then didn't know what to do with it. Story of your life, no?"
The Egyptian grabbed a cigarette from the pack in his right jacket pocket, placed it between his lips, and lit it with a silver zippo that he pulled from the same pocket. It ignited instantly, and he breathed in a lungful of sweet, sweet cancer.
"No need to worry about me, Kaiba. Really. I'm just peachy. Suffering from a bit of an existential crisis, granted, but other than that things are going swimmingly."
"I never figured you were the sarcastic type."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, babe. Yugi was the one with a hard on for friendship speeches. I was just along for the ride."
The spiky-haired man turned back toward the bar and took another drag on his cigarette. The smoke trailed loosely from between his thin lips to mingle with the rest. The air was pregnant with it, almost nauseatingly so.
Just as Yami was beginning to wonder if Kaiba had decided to leave, the brunet spoke again, "I'll admit you're right about a couple of things. I don't really know why I'm here, but you and I both know I'm probably the most stubborn son of a bitch that ever existed. That has more to do with it than anything else I'd say."
"Did the Seto Kaiba really just admit someone else is right? God, what is the world coming to?"
"Shut the fuck up and listen."
Yami chuckled again. "Good to know at least some things never change."
Kaiba ignored him and continued, "I may not know why I'm here, but I sure as hell know why you're here."
The pharaoh rolled his eyes. "Feel free to enlighten me."
It was Kaiba's turn to chuckle. "Feign as much indifference as you like. If there's anyone in the world whose opinion you'll take seriously, it's mine."
Yami didn't deny it.
Kaiba leaned in a little closer. "You're here because you're afraid. You have no idea what to do with yourself anymore. You've lost your drive, your direction, your justifications for living. I still don't know what I believe when it comes to all your hocus pocus bullshit about past lives and millennium items, but I know that you feel like this world isn't yours. You don't think you belong here. You don't think you have any right to be alive right now, and considering the sheer dumb luck you've exploited in the past, you probably don't."
Yami was sitting so motionlessly, he looked statuesque.
"You feel trapped in a world that you never should have known." Kaiba moved closer still, his sweet breath tickling Yami's cheek. "That's why you came here, to a seedy bar in an inconsequential part of town where you thought no one would bother to look for you. You're hiding behind booze and midnight skies because you're afraid of the thoughts in your own head."
"Fuck you," Yami whispered, his knuckles clenching the counter so hard they turned stark white. "You don't know anything about it."
"Oh, but I do. I've been where you are and back again more times than I can count. It's no picnic for anyone, and nobody came to offer me a helping hand when I was building an empire from the ground up. You should consider yourself lucky."
Yami's anger turned from burning hot to bitter cold so quickly he shivered. To say Kaiba had struck a nerve was putting it lightly. He'd struck bundles of them, and they were all singing with a pain he'd tried to drown in bottle after bottle.
"Is that really why you think you're here, Kaiba? To help me get back on my feet? To give me some kind of purpose now that all the card games have been played, the world is safe, and everyone but me has gone back to the normal lives they should have had all along? I never knew you were such a philanthropist at heart."
"I never knew you were such a moody bitch." Kaiba's icy eyes were pulsing with raw electricity. He was trying to get a reaction out of Yami, and he was succeeding. "What happened to the proud King of Games I used to respect?"
Yami finally couldn't take it anymore. He jumped to his feet and immediately felt a wave of vertigo that he only barely managed to conceal. Kaiba was a good half a head taller than him, something he'd always secretly hated. Those normally controlled blue eyes looked down at him with raging emotion swirling in their depths. Purple stared right back, every bit as tumultuous.
"I think we should take this outside, Kaiba."
The CEO looked mildly amused. "If you want to throw a punch at me, you're welcome to do it here. I won't even press charges against you, since you're clearly too drunk to be held accountable for your idiocy."
Yami ground his teeth but didn't rise to the bait. "Just come outside with me. I need some fresh air, and if I'm going to be insulted, it might as well be where I can breathe."
The brunet studied him for a long moment but eventually nodded, stepping aside so the Egyptian could get around him and head for the door. Yami flirted with the idea of making a run for it-anything to escape this failed attempt at an intervention-but considering how much effort it was just to put one foot in front of the other, he quickly decided against it.
Stepping outside was like stepping into an icy bath. The night air cleared Yami's head almost instantly. He scanned the line of dark cars parked outside and instantly spotted what he was looking for: something sleek, black, and too expensive to belong to any patron of this shitty local dive. He'd half expected Kaiba to have taken one of his corporate helicopters here, but apparently he'd found a new way to travel in style. The Egyptian walked straight towards the car, not bothering to check to see if Kaiba was following him.
He got to the car and immediately leaned his back against it, bringing his still-lit cigarette to his lips. Before he could take a drag, he felt a tug and his cigarette went flying.
"No smoking near my baby." Kaiba retracted his hand and moved to lean against his car next to Yami. "It's brand new, and if you get so much as a little ash on it, I'll slaughter you."
"Who needs parents with you around, sweetheart." Yami leaned his head back until it hit the roof of the car. The night sky was truly dazzling. There were more stars than he could count in a lifetime, stretching for miles upon lazy miles. "Despite what a nocturnal creature I've become, I forgot how beautiful the night can be."
"Write me some dreary poetry about it."
"Shut the fuck up."
The two teens lapsed into comfortable silence, their brilliant young minds racing with very similar thoughts. Yami almost started as he realized this was the first time he'd seen Kaiba since the end of Battle City. Somehow, it hadn't surprised him to suddenly have the CEO next to him again. They had parted on peculiar terms yet there was no real awkwardness between them. They both seemed content to simply exist for the moment and figure everything else out later.
Purple eyes shifted sideways to look at the other teen, and they were met with startling blue. Yami shifted his eyes down to consider Kaiba's impeccable form: clothed to perfection to accent every long limb and toned muscle. The spiky-haired man knew he was a mess in comparison: he was dressed in the same stained black sleeveless shirt and black skinny jeans that he'd been wearing for five days now. At least he'd bothered to shower that day.
A few more minutes worth of silence passed before Yami finally spoke. "Why did you really come here, Kaiba?"
"Don't think I'm going to give you a ride home just because you're hopelessly intoxicated. You did this to yourself, and if you puked in my car, I would really have to kill you."
"Nice try, but you can't distract me. Answer the question."
Kaiba pushed off from his gorgeous little sports car and faced the Egyptian. Yami righted himself but stayed against the car, fighting the dizziness that came over him the moment he moved. The tension between them was so thick it was nearly palpable. What startled Yami the most was how easily he slipped back into the same emotions he'd felt for Kaiba the last time they'd stood like this. A lot of misery and misfortune had transpired since then, but the electricity between them hadn't dissipated one iota.
Kaiba took a step forward, and the tension surged up so quickly it made Yami's gasp. They weren't even touching, and already he could feel fire burning in his belly.
"I see I haven't lost my touch," Kaiba murmured with a smirk, inching closer again. Wordlessly, he put his right foot between the other boy's and placed one hand against the car on either side of his shoulders. He'd created a living barrier of warm flesh to keep Yami trapped against his car. The purple-eyed teen fought against two separate urges: one was to shove Kaiba back as hard as he could and the other was to press himself against that silk-encased body. He knew either option could have dire consequences, and so he had to fight them both. Drunk or not, he had his wits about him enough to know that eventually one of these instincts would win. It was up to the brunet to determine which one it was.
"Admit it, Yami. You want to touch me."
"A punch is considered a touch, you know."
The taller youth smirked shamelessly. The one thing he enjoyed most about his rival was his ability to banter back. Kaiba didn't often encounter individuals with the mental tenacity to give him a challenge, but for every cold remark he threw Yami's way, the other boy had an even colder one ready and waiting.
The brunet leaned down slowly, inching his shoulders, chest, and head towards Yami until they were centimeters from him. The heat between their bodies was both literal and metaphorical. Though they would never admit it to each other, their hearts pounded together with a similar wild rhythm.
Now they would play their usual game of cat and mouse. Which of them would crack first? Who would reveal more of their true feelings this time? Who would have the last comeback to the last devastating comment?
Yami had to force himself to breathe deeply and quietly. He was at a serious disadvantage due to all the alcohol he'd consumed. His inhibitions had been striped away, and right now it was taking everything he had not to respond to the proximity of Kaiba's flawless body. Within the tremulous war raging in his brain, there was room for one hilarious thought: even when they weren't playing card games, they were still dueling.
"You still haven't answered me, sweetheart." Yami may not have had the best control over his own hormones, but he still understood how to play their game. He saw a familiar twinkle in Kaiba's eyes that plainly said the brunet was having as much trouble controlling himself as Yami was. Out of the corner of his eye, the pharaoh saw a slight tremor run through one of Kaiba's arms, confirming his suspicious. His mind's eye filled with an image of Kaiba forcing his body against Yami's in a fit of passion, and he knew the same image was playing again and again in the other man's mind.
Who was going to crack first?
Kaiba bit the inside of his lip, using the sharp pain to stir him from a number of vivid fantasies that were playing out in his head. It had been weeks since the last time he'd touched Yami, but he still remembered the other-worldly smoothness of that pale skin. He remembered the taste of the other man's salty sweat and the way his eyes gleamed when his every thought was drenched with desire. The memories alone were enough to make his head spin, but if there was one thing he was known for it was his self control.
"What do you want me to tell you?" Kaiba replied, his voice no more than a sultry murmur. With so little space between them, he didn't have to talk loudly to be heard, but he knew the low volume made the other teen instinctively want to lean closer. He watched as the impulse overcame the Egyptian and as he fought it off. God, he loved toying with this man, just as much as he loved being toyed with. "Do you want me to say that I came looking for you because I was worried? Do you want me to say I came here to save you? You're no damsel in distress, and I'm definitely not a knight."
"I don't care what your answer is. I just want the truth." Yami drew back a fraction of an inch, and Kaiba instantly understood that he'd made a mistake. He was trying to draw Yami into their old games, but he'd taken it a step too far. Strong-willed or not, the other teen was intoxicated and in a tumultuous emotional state. The two rivals had spent so much time fighting each other, they had learned each other's tells inside and out. No one could call Kaiba's bluff like Yami could, and the same was true in reverse.
Right now, the blue-eyed teen knew exactly what the other man was thinking, and he knew exactly how to fix it.
"Then I'll give you what you want." Before Yami could respond, Kaiba's soft lips were covering his, filling his stomach with a warmth that even alcohol couldn't match. The King of Games sunk into that kiss with desperate eagerness. He threw his arms around Kaiba's neck and yanked the other man closer. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, pooling a startling amount of heat for two fully-clothed individuals. The CEO slipped his right leg fully between Yami's and pressed up until the other teen was forced to spread his knees. With that final move they sank fully into each other, a tangle of limbs, slick skin, and wrestling tongues.
"I came here because we have unfinished business," Kaiba purred between soul-searing kisses. Yami's hands slid down his chest, his long fingers paying attention to every ridge of muscle in a way that made the normally cold CEO want to swoon. God fucking dammit, Yami was the only person who had ever made him react so violently. His brain felt like it was swathed in cotton as sensation after sensation shook him from head to toe. He'd missed this so fucking much. Every word from Yami's mouth, every touch from his fingers, every look those dark eyes shot him stirred emotion in him that he had tried for years to squash. This was why he'd spent so many tireless hours to try best Yami in the dueling ring. All along what he'd really been trying to best was his own undeniable weakness for the other man.
"And how do you propose we settle this unfinished business?" Yami cooed, leaning forward to lick a hot line down Kaiba's creamy neck. The brunet growled with pleasure as he felt teeth nibbling at his skin in a way that threatened to make him lose his last ounce of self control. That final ounce was all that kept him from throwing the other teen into the backseat and breaking his new car in, so to speak.
The question cleared his head a little, though. He raked his fingers through Yami's spiky hair until he had a good handful, and then he yanked. The Egyptian gasped from a mixture of pain and pleasure. Having his hair pulled was a special turn on of his, but he could tell the blue-eyed man meant business with the gesture.
"Having second thoughts?" Yami taunted, his lips twitching up into a smirk.
"Don't play coy; it's unbecoming." Kaiba took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It was hard to see Yami's flushed cheeks and kiss-reddened lips and keep his mind focused. "You and I have a nasty habit of letting sex distract us from dealing with our real problems."
"Funny, considering we've never actually fucked."
Kaiba frowned slightly at the crude language. He was no prude, but even he preferred terms other than "fucked" to describe the act. "Don't remind me, if you'd be so kind." He shifted a little and felt his rock-hard arousal strain against his pants. "I'm perfectly aware of what a tease you've been since Battle City."
"In all fairness, darling, my teasing started the day I met you. We just didn't figure it out right away."
Kaiba grit his teeth. "Stop trying to divert my attention, snookums."
Yami obligingly grew somber, and for once a hint of his old self shone through in his eyes: serious and confident. "Very well. What exactly do you want from me?"
"I want you to get your goddamn act together. I want you to stop moping and turn back into the man I was once proud to call my greatest opponent."
Silver fangs snapped in Yami's eyes with so much ferocity, Kaiba nearly fell back a step. He'd touched yet another nerve, and he needed to soothe it fast or he had no doubt the other teen would shove him aside and march right back into the bar.
"I want you to come home with me tonight."
Yami raised an amused eyebrow, and his face split into a sly grin.
Kaiba smirked. "Don't get your hopes up. My intentions are purer than you think. None of your friends have any idea where you've been sleeping since you started your habitual binge drinking, but from the looks of your clothes, I'm guessing it isn't anywhere particularly sanitary."
Yami frowned at the suggestion that he was anything but perfectly hygienic, however deserved it might be. "I made friends with one of the bartenders here, and he's been letting me crash on his couch."
Kaiba was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy at the idea of the smaller teen spending his nights on another man's couch, but he quickly shoved the feeling aside. "Do me a favor and tell him you won't be needing his services any longer. There are fifty-two spare bedrooms in my mansion, and surely you'll like one of them more than that couch."
"You're being controlling again, sweetheart."
"It's about time someone put you in your place."
Yami had to bite his lip to keep from reacting to the obvious stab at his pride. Considering how he'd been acting lately, he probably deserved it. A few bad decisions had led him down an incredible slippery slope, and Kaiba was simply trying to wake him up.
"Fine. I'm leaving first thing in the morning, though."
"It's cute how you assume you'll be able to walk when I'm through with you."
Yami couldn't hold back a shiver, and Kaiba smirked. "Get in the car."
"I'll suck your dick on the way there if you let me smoke in your car."
"You have got to be the cheapest whore I've ever encountered."
"You haven't been looking in the right places."
AN: That's it for now. Hope that didn't seem like it was too all over the place. I'm going for a gradual reveal, which is something I don't often do in fics, but I think you guys will like the result.
Remember, the more you review, the more willing I'll be to put effort into this. Even if you just click the little review button and type "nice fic" or "hate it" or "woo-hoo!" I'll appreciate it. Love you guys, and may your lives be filled with well-written yaoi!
My friends that I mentioned in the first author note created a drinking game for Yu-Gi-Oh! The Pyramid of Light (the movie), and I thought it'd be fun if with every chapter, I give you guys one of our rules:
Rule Number One: Take a shot every time a character says something vaguely homosexual. This is also known as the Every Time Pegasus Speaks rule. :)