"Um, how about this one…t-then?" Ryou stuttered as he exited the small bathroom adjacent to his room. Bakura snorted as he sat on his bed, hands placed firmly on his knee caps.

"You look retarded," He muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back on the soft pillows. Ryou sighed and shuffled back into the bathroom only to return moments later; this time he was adorning a small flush and was chewing on his lower lip.

As he saw Bakura's expression he immediately fixed his vision to the hard-wood floor. "Um…I could go chan-"

"No."

He was cut off so abruptly it left him there stuttering rubbish. "I-well, I could-just-are you-hm…" He was now staring at the floor again.

He waited for Bakura to sneer at him; tell him how pathetic and weak he was. As he sighed to himself and turned around to re-enter the bathroom, he felt something icy cold sliding up his jugular vein up to the small patch of skin under his ear. A sudden yelp escaped his lips but was quickly silenced as yami slid his calloused hand up goosebump-ridden thighs.

Ryou squirmed in his grip, trying desperately to escape. What was his yami doing? "Baku-" he grunted; his breathing deep. "Bakura…!" He was quickly silenced by now warm, moist lips pressed against his own feathery light ones.

He had never really experienced his first kiss, besides the chaste, innocent ones he and his mom shared when his was younger.

He didn't know what to do but that wasn't what got to him. What was was that his yami was kissing him. Him, of all people! Not Yami, not Mariku. Him.

Ryou was utterly confused now. Bakura's tongue had somehow forced entry into his own cavern and was pressing playfully against his own tongue. The small albino cautiously pressed his own tongue against Bakura's and his yami made a strangled noise before grabbing his wrist and pinning him against the wall with his own body.

"Ryou," He purred, nipping at his aibou's lower lip. Their lips connected again but the kiss held more emotion in it as Bakura's hand rested right over Ryou's crotch and Ryou just stood there helplessly, moaning without any restraint as his yami's hand suddenly began to do something that was surely about to make him need to take a cold shower.

Then suddenly, everything went away.

The warmth.

The wetness.

The hand.

And Bakura stood back, his eyes scanning his aibou's body ravenously. Ryou was leaning, slumped, against the wall. His eyes were closed, sweat beading on his forehead as his eyebrows were knitted together. His face was flushed and his round full lips were parted, his breath long and ragged. And Bakura noticed something down there that made his lips curl up and ideas run through his mind that would make the devil blush.

Slowly enveloping his hikari against his chest, he slid his rough calloused fingers against his stomach, letting them linger at his navel.

His moist tongue slid against his outer ear cartlidge and he whispered, "Ready to go trick-or-treating, then?"

Ryou squeaked and turned around in his yami's arms, burying his head into the nook of Bakura's neck.

And suddenly

Bakura found that the maids uniform was restraining too much for him.