A/N: Back again...sorry about the hiatus. This chapter will be smexy...my gift to you for enduring the wait. Enjoy and review so I know what I'm doing right and what sucks. Cheers!


Chapter 15: Fiery Revelations

Atem stared down at the small suitcase he had packed, looking thoughtfully down at the Millenium Puzzle he had carefully placed on top of his clothes.

Yugi stood in the doorway. He watched his other half with a degree of intensity and sadness. Atem's slender frame was half in shadow, his face hidden from view.

"Atem?"

The Pharaoh glanced up, a thin but sad smile stretched across his lips.

"Are you packed, light?"

Yugi nodded.

"Good."

"Yami…do you think Anzu is okay?"

Atem exhaled through his nose, causing his nostrils to flare. His eyebrows knit together in quiet thought. Finally he spoke in a low and deep grumble.

"It's hard to say. I believe she is alive. I know Anzu. She was so strong and I can't imagine Bakura breaking her down."

Yugi stared at his former darkness. He didn't quite know whether to believe the wise king.

"You have faith in her."

Atem nodded, eyes fixed to the puzzle.

"You loved her."

Yugi's voice was matter of fact.

Atem rarely spoke about his affection for Anzu. Indeed since Atem had been back, he had not mentioned her at all before Bakura's taunting email. But Yugu sensed he missed her. How deep his feelings went, however- Yugi was unsure.

Not expecting an answer now, Yugi turned away and started down the hall. It was then he heard the Pharaoh's voice, soft and fragile.

"I couldn't love her. I didn't deserve to love her."

Ryou's apartment

Bakura all but stumbled into Ryou's apartment, closing the door behind him. The buttons on his shirt were undone. He wiped his running nose on his arm, cursing at his body's weakness. He made his way to the sink, grabbed a glass with a shaky hand and filled it with water.

Ryou shuffled into the kitchen and watched as Bakura let out a series of husky coughs.

"If you don't wear a coat, you are bound to get sick," Ryou said flatly. He held an ice pack to his head and peered out at his Yami through narrowed eyes.

Bakura coughed in response.

"On an entirely different note, care to explain the sudden flashback and seizure that I experienced in the kitchen? I'm not sure I was prepared for this episode. Some warning next time, eh?"

Ryou's voice was ice.

Bakura looked over his shoulder at his host, His face was perfectly pale and his eyes stared into Ryou's with the ferocity of fire.

"Jesus Akefia, put a fucking sweater on," Ryou admonished, annoyed.

"I see we are tied together still, host."

Ryou didn't correct Bakura this time and scurried into the adjacent room to find a coat.

Bakura dragged his body into the living room and collapsed on the couch, pulling a cigarette from his almost empty carton.

"Oh no you don't!" Ryou shrilly exclaimed from the doorway, "You aren't going to smoke. You have a fever. You are breaking out in a sweat! Seriously? Do you want to kill yourself again?"

Bakura chuckled through the haze of the fever but obediently put the cigarette down, "Don't you moderns have some fucking pills, syrup, drugs—medical or otherwise?"

Ryou grabbed ibuprofen from the cabinet and returned with a glass of water, "Here. Swallow and then I want answers."

"So demanding."

"SWALLOW."

"What a funny command coming from you."

Ryou blushed.

Bakura chuckled at his light's reaction, but swallowed the pills.

"Tell me why you are having flashbacks."

Bakura cleared his throat, "They must have something to do with the prophecy."

"How many have you had?"

"A couple."

Ryou stared at his former spirit. It seemed that the closer in proximity the two halves were, the more they influenced each other.

Bakura closed his eyes, "I'm going to sleep, if you are done with your interrogation." His voice was dripping in acid, but Ryou brushed it off.

"I do have one more question," he paused to watch Bakura open one terrible, crimson eye. Ryou stood there firmly, with a ghost of a smirk on his face. Had Bakura's mind not been thick with heat, he would have commented on how alike they looked in that moment. Instead he waited for Ryou to speak, too exhausted to hurl an acrid observation at his other half.

"Since when have you been in love with Anzu?"

Bakura came to her that night. She knew he would and she didn't fight it. When he came to the door, she could tell he was ill. His body was warm to the touch and his skin was salty with sweat. The rain had plastered his thick hair against his neck and drops of water ran down his face, tracing the lines of memory and pain that were etched there.

Dead roses and cigarettes. Heat. Sweat. Death. Life.

His eyes were fiery with passion and another emotion she couldn't put her finger on. He stared at her, lips twisted into a smirk. Her eyes trailed down his chest and she could see he was wearing the Ring—something he must have received or stolen from Ryou.

He leaned against the door, cocking his head to one side.

"Going to let me in Anzu?"

Her world collapsed and came together again. It felt right. It felt like destiny. It was magic. It was the magic she had not let herself believe was truth all along.

She felt her back slam against the wall, and his lips were on hers. The wicked tongue forced her lips apart, tasting her. He nipped at the soft bottom lip, demanding access and ground a knee into her womanhood. She moaned shamelessly against his mouth. With one quick motion, he deftly caught her wrists and held them in place above her head, teeth finding her exposed collar-bone.

"Ah Bakura, please."

Immediately Bakura left her neck and found his way to her lips, hissing against them

"Don't call me that."

"What?" she whined as he traced her lips with his hot tongue.

He growled against her lips, "My name is Akefia."

She gasped. The heat pooled in her stomach and dripped down her thighs.

"Say it," he commanded, pulling her shirt off. He toyed with her breasts, pulling at the nipples through the soft, cotton fabric of her bra.

"Ohhhh don't stop."

"Say it," he breathed against her ear, twisting her hard nub. The pain shot through her chest, causing her hips to buck against him wildly.

"Akefia, touch me!"

"Your wish is my command, beautiful Anzu," he said huskily.

With a flick of his wrist, her bra fell to the floor and his lips circled her breast, sucking fervently

He looked up at her, his tongue massaging the soft flesh. Her beautiful orbs were shut in passion and her hair was sweaty, shining and beautiful. Her hips gyrated against his, causing him to groan with each targeted thrust. Anzu gasped again as he bit down on one nipple. She whimpered in surprise when she felt teeth graze the other.

"Let me," Anzu gasped. Bakura felt her small hand against the zipper of his pants and he groaned at the thought.

"Anzu," he whispered harshly, twisting her nipples again, "Fuck."

She slid down his body until she was kneeling before him. Very slowly she pulled down his boxers and looked up at him shyly. The innocent but coy look on her face as her mouth hovered mere centimenters away from his manhood was almost too much to bear. He grit his teeth in frustration.

"Fuck, Anzu," he grunted in frustration, letting one of his arms catch him as he fell against the wall. His hair fell forward, creating a curtain around his face and the ring hung a few centimeters off his chest.

Anzu felt desire pool between her thighs and slowly she leaned forward. Opening her lips, she gently took him in her mouth. Her mind was on fire with desire. She was making him feel this. She was making him writhe, groan and thrust.

He hissed at the sensation of her soft lips on his flesh, and grabbed her hair, guiding her as he desperately slid himself in and out of her mouth. The feel of the hot throb of flesh on her tongue caused a small, unsolicitated moan to escape her lips. Vibrations shot up his member. Bakura threw back his head as he felt his will pushed to the brink of release.

"Enough," he growled to the ceiling.

Anzu felt her heart pounding, "Was that okay?"

The former spirit looked incredulously at her through half-lidded eyes.

"Bed. Now." He growled, as she helped tear off his soiled shirt. At last, he was naked before her, but before Anzu could admire his beauty he had scooped her up in his strong arms. Anzu clutched his chest, and brought her lips to his neck, sucking gently as Bakura shivered under her ministrations. She smiled against his collarbone, letting her fingers slide against his chiseled chest, neck and his face. His beautiful face. His cheekbones, thin lips, gorgeous, fiery eyes framed in a halo of thick, pale hair.

Bakura, on the other hand, was less gentle. He barged into the room and practically threw her on the bed. His eyes locked with hers and she saw the power and brute strength behind them. Slowly she bought her hand to his face and traced her index finger along his scar ending at the corner of his lips. His eyes never left hers.

"Someone hurt you," she whispered.

Bakura's eyes narrowed slightly. She half-expected Bakura to hurl an insult or scoff at her. Instead he turned his face slightly, nibbling on the tip of her finger. She whimpered and his infamous grin returned to his face.

Moving down her body, he parted her legs roughly, feeling the wet spot between her legs with his fingers. His eyes glazed over in lust. Anzu almost came at the sight. His muscles rippled under his skin in anticipation. He grabbed a hold of her panties, pulling them down her legs in one rough motion.

She lay before him, vulnerable and naked. The last time I was in this position…

She shook the memories from her head and watched as Bakura stared at her. She flushed and squirmed under his gaze.

"Anzu, beautiful Anzu," he practically cooed, "Innocent, sexy Anzu. Where should I begin?"

"A-akefia, please."

"Please what, my pet?" He stroked her folds, causing her to jump.

"Touch me"

"That's all?" He sounded amused and disappointed.

Anzu thrashed, "Mmmmm. Akefia. T-taste me."

The former theif's features lit up and slowly he dipped towards her desire.

"Look at me Anzu," he commanded. She forced her eyes open and watched as he gave her womanhood, one, long lick. Fireworks exploded in her head and she reached out, tangling her fingers in the sheets.

Quickly he went to work, tonguing her, holding her legs open. She called for him, begged him and encouraged him.

More fireworks as he found her tight, exposed nub. He flicked his tongue against it rapidly, bringing her to the edge. The fireworks were intense and white hot pleasure shot through her body.

He sensed her release approaching and stopped, giving her pale thigh a quick nip.

"Mmmm, Akefia, don't stop," she lay breathless and flushed. Her brunette tresses fanned out around her like a halo.

"We aren't quite finished yet," he said in a low whisper. Anzu shivered in anticipation.

JFK Airport- New York, New York

Yugi chewed on his lip nervously as he flipped through his phone. Atem sat next to him, motionless, gripping their boarding passes tightly.

"What's wrong?" Yugi sighed without looking up from his phone.

"I have a strange feeling."

Yugi still didn't look up. He was used to Atem's eccentricities by now.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel as if something terrible has happened to Anzu. I had a vision last night—a dream of sorts." He paused and turned to look at his light who had since abandoned his phone.

"Go on," Yugi encouraged.

Atem let out a heavy sigh. "In the dream Bakura was over Anzu—on top of her."

Yugi was blushing, "Hurting her?"

Atem was quiet for so long that Yugi wasn't sure he had heard the question.

Finally he spoke in a voice that was coated in steel, "No."

Yugi looked alarmed as his Yami's eyes narrowed into slits.

"Raping her."

Anzu's apartment

When he moved inside of her, Anzu let out a shaky breath. She reached for him, digging her fingers into his shoulder blades. He pulled out slowly and then before she could process what was happening, he slammed into her to the hilt, reaching down to bite her shoulder.

She gasped in pain and pleasure, wiggling her hips to encourage him to move.

"Fuck, Anzu. So. Fucking. Tight."

She moaned as he repeated the action, her hips rising to meet his. The pain slowly ebbed away until she felt wave after wave of pleasure.

The fire licked at her feet, rising to her thighs then to her stomach and finally her heart. She begged, twisted, and cried for him. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his body, bringing him impossibly closer to her. Their bodies moved as one—an ancient dance of lust and ultimately survival. He held her head back by the hair, reaching down to lick her neck as she cried out for release.

Harder, faster—sweat mingled. Pain came together with pleasure. He held her against him, guiding her hips to meet his thrusts. She moaned as she began to ride him feeling for the edge of the precipice. It would be over so soon—to soon.

Just before she was about to release, Akefia growled throatily in her ear, "Fucking look at me."

Her eyes opened and the intensity which stared back at her nearly caused her to explode. His eyes, haunting yet familiar—the eyes of a boy and yet the eyes of a man. Foreheads collided together. She gasped as he breathed heavily.

His palm rested on her cheek for a minute, and he stopped his movement—his cock buried in her soft folds. She whimpered. Slowly he dragged his palm across her cheek and then quickly tangled his fingers into her hair, pulling her head back in a single, fluid motion.

"Cum for me, Anzu," he commanded her, whispering harshly in her ear as he gave one final thrust, hitting the bundle of nerves that sent her world plummeting into the stars.

Her walls tightened around him, and he felt his release fast approaching. She watched through hazy vision as he thrust into her one, final time. His back arched and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Anzu," he hissed, before he collapsed on top of her.

As he rolled over, breathing heavily, she turned to look at him—muscles rippling under taunt flesh. He was beautiful and exotic and sad. She longed to reach out and touch him. But before she could make a move, Bakura stood up, albeit shakily. He rooted around for his boxers and pants, muttering to himself.

Anzu felt a sudden peculiar sense of loss wash over her, "Y-You don't have to leave."

Silence.

Anzu wrapped the covers around her and sat up, confused.

"Where are you going?"

Bakura pulled on his pants, finding the ring, he had haphazardly tossed on the floor.

"Akefia!"

He paused and looked at her. The gentleness was gone in his eyes like a light, replaced with the familiar look of smug confidence.

"Home, Anzu, home," he sneered, "What? Did you think I would stay and cuddle?" His voice cut into her.

"No," she narrowed her eyes, pushing back the hair from her sweaty face.

"You must have thought this meant something," Bakura cooed, "How sweet. I'm not your prince Anzu. I'm not your knight in shining armor. I'm not your"—he stopped to light a cigarette—"your pharaoh."

Anzu gaped.

"But I suspect he is already on his way," Bakura exhaled, smoke curling from his mouth, "Won't you have a nice surprise for him? Fucked by his worst enemy, like a common whore."

Anzu felt anger bubble up and she saw red, "Get. The. Fuck. Out."

"On my way," Bakura responded, quite cheerfully, "Also thank you so much for your help—without your help translating the text, I might not have been able to plan so effectively."

"I barely gave you anything," she hissed.

Bakura glowered, "Oh but you did Anzu. Your computer was full of goodies that you no doubt translated to help his majesty. Unfortunately they didn't fall into the right hands, did they?"

Anzu closed her eyes—the room was spinning.

"And you are even more valuable Anzu," Bakura continued in a singsong voice, "Because Yugi will do anything for you. He is weak and I can't see the King doing anything to upset his little toy."

'Don't talk about Yugi that way. When Atem comes he will destroy you."

"You've already destroyed him Anzu—your unfaithfulness is astounding and yet predictable."

Hot tears tickled the back of her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

"GET THE FUCK OUT BAKURA," she stood up, clutching the covers to her naked form, trembling in anger, "Or I'll kill you."

Bakura let out a dark chuckle, "Kill me, Anzu? My soul was locked for 3 millenia in a piece of jewelery and you think death is an applicable threat. You are even more hopeless than I thought. Even Ryou knows better."

With that he turned on his heel. She heard the door slam and she felt her knees buckle. What had she done? What could she do to fix it? But what struck her most of all is that despite everything Bakura had said—Anzu wasn't sure she believed the façade at all.

Ryou's apartment

Ryou figured out what happened, eyes roaming over Bakura's disheveled clothing.

"Did you have something to prove?" Ryou asked bitterly. He had become increasingly worried about Anzu.

Bakura didn't move from behind the counter.

"Did you think having sex with her and leaving would prove you didn't love her?" Ryou tried again, "How is that working out for you? What does it feel like to be a coward?"

Bakura was on Ryou in a minute—a steak knife pressed to his light's throat.

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Ryou gulped but managed to find his voice, "Will you kill me too, Akefia?" Ryou's voice was a strained whisper. His eyes narrowed and his face became paler. Bakura's eyes widened a bit. We look the same.

Bakura growled and shoved Ryou into the wall where his light collapsed in a heap. He watched as Ryou slowly stood again as if struggling under an impossible heavy weight. Akefia did not move—he stood there, still brandishing the steak knife.

"You love her," Ryou said simply, rubbing his throat where the blade had been seconds before, "Why were you trying to prove otherwise?"