Disclaimer: YGO! still doesn't belong to Dustbunny and she still isn't making any profit. You want more proof of a higher power? I suggest a list of other series that Dustbunny doesn't own
A/N: Not much to say, especially considering I probably have bare minutes by this point to get this in before I'm disqualified from Computerfreak101's contest. I'm a horribly unorganized, procrastinating person so I didn't have time to fire this off to my beta; apoloies in advance for any errors. Sorry this is so short and all, but I got a really late start-- about twenty minutes ago. Yes, this thing took twenty minutes of my life. Go ahead and laugh
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Kaiba Seto won't admit he's in love with Bakura Ryou.
Pressed back against the wall, Kaiba continues to fight for control of the kiss. Unusually sharp canines bite down hard on his bottom lip and he responds by fisting fighting into the bushes of white hair, already mussed. A low growl he counters with one of his own, tugging sharply to the side and sucking at a pulse point in the neck-- and then biting down.
A hand is suddenly at his throat, just lacking the pressure it would take to make him pass out as it forces him away and all but slams his head against the wall behind him. As his partner moves in, Kaiba catches sight of eyes glittering like precious rubies through the stars flashing before his vision.
Which is okay, really, because it's the other Bakura who he secretly delights in having make an expensive toy of his security system.
There's work to be done, a lot of it, so maybe that's why it takes Kaiba a moment to realize that he's not alone in the study-- a window behind, which he knows he closed, is letting a bitter breeze into the room. That can only mean that someone is lurking in the shadows behind him; who knows how long that someone has been waiting, watching with a smirk as he stood undetected. Doubtless he knows that he's been found out.
Still, work has to be done, so Kaiba relaxes back into his typing as though nothing is out of the ordinary.
A low growl, footsteps, and then Kaiba's chair is spun and there's no time for comment or even a good look before that forceful presence is in his lap, trying to take control from the vantage point.
Of course Kaiba won't admit that either-- can't.
The room is heavy with heat and arousal, but neither Kaiba nor Bakura will make a sound more than shallow panting. It's an unspoken competition as they wrestle on the bed, tangling the silk sheets and soiling them with sweat and more. All their weight goes into it, all their cunning, and there is plenty to spare.
Somehow it isn't really defeat when Kaiba curls himself around Bakura like a constrictor and muffles a cry against the latter's neck.
Power-- raw power-- is wrapped in his arms, and it all belongs to him.
For one thing, it would mean he cares-- cares-- about someone other than himself and Mokuba.
"Big brother!"
By the time his little brother is in the room, Kaiba's hair is neat and he's sitting calmly behind his desk, typing diligently at his laptop. He looks up to acknowledge the boy's entrance, and then grunts at appropriate times as Mokuba runs through his usual session of My Day in Five Minutes (Kaiba's words, never spoken aloud).
By the time Mokuba is down the hall, heading for his room, Kaiba is biting his own knuckles in a bid to keep quiet.
Worse, it would mean acknowledging the existence of magic.
"Would you believe that I got you to do this a few millennia ago?"
"No-- you can't even get me to do it now."
"Give me another five minutes."
Much can be said about Kaiba Seto, but the man has his pride, after all.
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Why, yes, the emotional dry spell is intentional. Denile and all that, remember?
Praise appreciated, concrit treasured, flames raspberried