Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh. This story is freely fan-written for entertainment purposes only.

[A/N: When I first wrote this, I hated the way it turned out (very OOC). I read it again three weeks later and was surprised to be somewhat satisfied with it, so I fixed what I didn't like the first go-round (also with the help of Cassandra Cassidy, who was kind enough to read over it before I posted the final version. ^,~ I can't thank her enough). Hard YAOI (aka sexual boy-on-boy play). Darkshipping. Semi-uke-Bakura. Very humorous. Enjoy.]

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~Sunburn~

The look on Bakura's face could only be described as 'feral.' Perched on a stool in the kitchen with his knees hugged up to his chest, the angry spirit silently made it clear that he was not to be bothered by any of Ryou's ignorant, sun-loving friends. All of them (save Bakura) had gathered in the living room to watch a movie after returning from a long weekend at the beach.

Their presence alone wasn't what had the thief so boiling mad, though. His anger stemmed from the fact that half of his usually alabaster skin was fried into a blotchy red. He was mad because it was all Yami's fault. Every time he tried to move, stinging pain shot up from his arms, legs, shoulders, stomach… If he concentrated hard enough, he was sure that he could pull off some shadow magic on Yami to give him some payback, but what was the use? That bastard would just hit him back again, and it would hurt even worse because he was already wounded.

So there he was, seething in silence, still wearing swimming trunks so as not to agitate his sunburns. It was bad enough he'd had to go with Ryou's friends to the beach in the first place, even worse that he'd not returned unscathed.

His ears perked up as a loud round of laughter sounded from the living room. Hearing everyone laughing together caused him to sigh softly. Being an outcast could get awfully lonely sometimes. But he'd be damned if he wanted any of their company. He absently wondered if Malik was home…

As if on cue, a certain golden-skinned ex-Pharaoh walked into the kitchen, also wearing only dark blue swimming trunks. Bakura didn't even acknowledge his presence, preferring instead to glare at the sink and refrigerator that were directly in his line of sight. Unfortunately, the fridge seemed to be Yami's desired destination, and before he even had the door completely open, he shut it again and turned to face the thief.

"Feeling any better?" he asked in what most would hear as a sincere tone. Bakura knew better.

"What's it look like?" the white-haired spirit bit back. Of course he wasn't feeling better.

"Looks like you're only getting worse." Yami's brows rose as an amused smile tugged at his lips. "I could have sworn you put on sunscreen before we left…?"

Bakura did not need to be reminded that somebody had used up all the sunscreen by the time he managed to get his hands on it. Three guesses who, and the first two didn't count. "No. I didn't," Bakura lied, "my mistake."

"Huh. Maybe if you'd go out more often you'd get a tan like the one you used to ha—"

"I don't need advice from you," Bakura growled. "Just finish your business here and leave me to my meditation."

"Is that what you were doing? Looked to me like you were sulking."

"Oh for Ra's sake, leave me the hell alone!"

He knew he was giving Yami exactly what he wanted – a rise. Normally he wouldn't be so quick to snap at the Pharaoh; normally he'd have a witty retort ready for his pompous ass. But not when his mind was as fried as his skin… He was about ready to go find a dark, quiet room where he could drift off into a sunburn-less sleep.

Yami shrugged indifferently and turned back to the fridge. After retrieving several sodas, he walked back to the living room and its rambunctious laughter, leaving Bakura to his sulky meditation like he'd wanted.

But he sighed again and tentatively hopped down from his stool. Meditation wasn't doing much for him, especially when all he could think about was his sunburn and how much he disliked Yami for being the cause of it. Ignoring the pain that shot all over his body when he stood, he made his way past the living room and up the stairs toward his bedroom. He failed to notice Yami's eyes following him the entire way.

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Air conditioning is the single greatest invention of this modern age, Bakura thought as he lay spread-eagled on his bed. Having grown up in the desert, he knew well the importance of keeping cool (despite what his rosy limbs might imply). He thought back to Yami's jibe at how he no longer had his brown Egyptian tan. Stupid Yami…stupid sun… He was too tired to even get angry, now. Stupid tired…

"Are you awake, tomb-robber?" Yami asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. Bakura didn't reply; his thoughts were hazy. Maybe he was half asleep; maybe falling asleep at the least. If not…

"Fine, I'm coming in anyway. Ryou wanted me to give this to you."

If Bakura hadn't been so out of it, he might have caught the oddity in what Yami just said. Ryou was the only person who ever did anything helpful for Bakura, and usually the irritable spirit wasn't even remotely grateful for it. If Ryou had wanted to give him something, then Ryou would have done it himself. This, however, went unnoticed by the thief, who continued to stare at the ceiling even as Yami sat down on the bed beside him.

"Bakura?" he asked quietly.

"What?" Bakura replied, not an ounce of animosity left in him. He didn't have the energy.

"May I…" Yami started, but then shook his head as though he'd changed his mind suddenly. "Here." Instead, he placed something down on the bed beside Bakura's hand.

Bakura didn't move. I'm sore, I'm tired, and I just want to be left alone… Can't he just…go away? Ack! He's insufferable! I'm going to be forced into bearing his torturous presence forever and ever and—

"Um, aren't you going to put it on?"

Bakura blinked. "Put what on?" he asked, slightly curious now. He sat up in order to glance down at whatever it was Yami had put next to him. It turned out to be a bottle of Aloe Aftersun. He winced as he moved, feeling the affects of his sunburn with every little twitch. "That?" he asked, nodding at the bottle full of green goop.

"I thought… I mean, Ryou thought it might make you feel better."

Aah, there it was; Bakura caught that slip-up. "Hah! Don't make me laugh, Pharaoh. Ryou already told me he's going out later to buy something for me because we are out." His brows rose ever so slightly. "What's the catch?"

"There isn't one," Yami stated seriously. He didn't seem to mind much that Bakura called him out on his act of kindness. In fact, he looked a little too comfortable sitting there on Bakura's bed.

"Of course there's a catch! It's you; there's always a catch with you."

"Not necessarily. I suppose you could say I feel slightly guilty for being the cause of your sunburn, though I couldn't tell you why. I didn't do it on purpose; I honestly thought there was another full bottle." The ex-Pharaoh hung his head and sighed deeply. Bakura simply stared at him, thinking, Did he just apologize...? To me?! Yami didn't say anything else for a while, until he nodded toward the bottle of aloe. "I'd planned to put that on you myself, but I didn't know if you'd trust me enough to—"

Bakura's eyes suddenly looked ready to bug out of his head. "You wanted to WHAT?!" Did he hear Yami right? He had to be dreaming. Having someone else rub a sticky salve all over his body was almost…sexual. And even more bizarre was the fact that that someone happened to be Yami. What the hell could that asshole possibly want from him to even muse about such behavior?

"Calm down, thief. I said I'd planned to, not that I was going to." It was a lie, but hopefully Bakura wouldn't catch it. They stared at each other for a few minutes in silence before Yami finally asked, "Well? Are you going to let me or not…?"

What was he supposed to say to that? The obvious answer was 'no' or 'not'; it was the answer that Yami expected, and also the answer that Bakura should have given.

"Yes," the white-haired spirit whispered. He couldn't have told you why for the world.

Yami blinked in surprise several times before murmuring, "Okay then…" He proceeded to squirt a quarter-sized amount of aloe gel into his palm. "Sit still," he warned sternly. If this get together was going to be as romantic as he'd imagined it, then he couldn't very well have the tomb-robber flailing around like a pissed-off peacock. Fortunately Bakura didn't even know what was going on anymore, so of course he sat stock still whenever Yami's hand gently fell against his lower thigh. He relaxed as the gel was massaged around his knee.

"You said you feel guilty…" Bakura mumbled. His eyes were fixed on Yami's hands while they worked their way down his legs, applying more and more aloe in their wake. The relief that washed over him felt strange after having felt pain for such a long time – like a headache that suddenly dissipates after the aspirin finally kicks in.

Yami nodded. "Not even the two of us are safe from the sun." A slight chuckle. "Though I think you probably needed the SPF 30 more than I did..."

Such friendly talk between them was of course a little strange, almost like they were friends. But it wasn't awkward, and it wasn't unwanted. The company was actually rather pleasant. Bakura didn't say anything for a while longer, and neither did Yami. Both were apparently content with the silence.

After Yami had completed covering Bakura's legs, he leaned over them, curved his lips into a tiny 'o,' and blew in order to dry the gel faster. Bakura's eyebrows rose slightly at the position of Yami's head and the shape of his lips, but he refrained from laughing or commenting. His thoughts were still fuzzy; he wasn't entirely sure any of this was even really happening.

Yami paused once he was finished. He looked at the bottle of aloe, and then back up at Bakura's complacent face. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked.

What a stupid question! Of course it didn't hurt – it felt wonderful. Bakura grunted in response, though he couldn't help but notice the slightly nervous lilt in Yami's voice. Surely he wasn't enjoying this too…?

Just the thought of that turned Bakura's world upside down, flipping his stomach several times in the process. Never once had he considered the possibility of Yami not hating him. Fighting with the Pharaoh came as natural as breathing to him. There was no denying the bad blood between them, even if said bad blood had occurred several thousand years ago. He couldn't come up with a reason for this sudden change in him – guilty feelings aside. As he'd mused earlier, Ryou was going to get something for his sunburn anyway; there was more to it than simply feeling bad from something he didn't even mean to do…

"I like your room," Yami said out of the blue, probably just to break the silence. Bakura couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's very…black. It's nice; suits you—"

"I'm going to pretend that your trying to make small talk with me is just a figment of my fuzzy imagination," Bakura stated, finally brining his languid eyes up to Yami's startled face. "Enlighten me as to why you're really here before I demand that you stop this nonsense and leave. Come now, we both know you certainly don't enjoy my presence, at least not on a normal basis. So spill it."

Yami stared at him. His tan hands had settled on Bakura's forearms, where they'd been rubbing small circles up and down the lithe muscle that lay just beneath his burning skin. The warmth coming from him gave Yami an erotic pleasure that went straight to the pit of his stomach and into his groin. He deftly hid this arousal from Bakura, of course. The thief smelled like an aloe plant, but he looked as scrumptious as ever – pink cheeks, tangled white hair, and all. Not to mention the way his eyes were lazily half-lidded and giving Yami the perfect come-hither look.

He couldn't stand it any longer. Instead of telling Bakura why he'd really wanted to come speak with him, Yami leaned forward – his hands still gripping Bakura's arms – and showed him. His lips connected with the thief's.

His eyes stayed open for the longest time, staring deeply into Bakura's burgundy ones because he hadn't closed them either. Seconds that ticked by felt like hours. The grip Yami held soon tightened and started to sting, but Bakura made no move to stop him. In fact, the thief made a hum of approval when Yami dug his nails into his forearms. He felt the other duelist's tongue easily slide between his lips because of the way he held them ever so slightly parted. A hungry tongue caressed back and forth between the sides of his mouth, eliciting a hoarse groan that left them both breathing hard.

The way Yami held Bakura was in a protective manner that made him feel safe, despite the obvious need purring beneath the surface of the former Pharaoh's actions. For some reason, being held that way made him want to be protected. From what, Ra only knew. Bakura wasn't normally the submissive type; he'd never asked for anyone's help before. It could just be the sunburn making him feel that way, or the fact that Yami was the one tending his wounds and…ravishing him with deep kisses. Either way, it felt good to let his guard down for once. A stupid move, but pleasant nonetheless.

Yami broke off the kiss with a blush of his own coloring his tanned face. He cleared his throat and reached over to get the bottle of aloe, then yet again squirted another quarter sized drop into his hand. Bakura was having a hard time keeping himself from smiling at this strange yet interesting turn of events. He thought he was quite enjoying himself, and considering who he was with, that was a feat in and of its self. Yami was staring at him with a very serious look. They both knew what was coming; the thought made Bakura's skin prickle in anticipation.

As Yami scooted closer to the thief, he said quietly, "I hope I haven't offended you?"

"Offended me?" Bakura chuckled. The hand bearing the gel fell lightly against Bakura's chest, rubbing in tiny circles again. "You've shown more respect for me than I thought possible. You…" The thief suddenly jumped like he'd been spooked when Yami's hand brushed over his left nipple. He didn't say anything after that because he immediately locked his lips with Yami's.

"Bakura—" Yami mumbled against him, "what about your—"

Bakura wasn't listening. He wrapped his arms around Yami's neck and pulled the ex-Pharaoh hard down on top of him.

"Ow," Bakura exclaimed flatly, breaking the kiss and blinking at Yami, who laughed.

"I tried to warn you about your sunburn…"

Bakura paused for a few seconds to recollect his thoughts. His mind was working slower than usual for some reason… Eventually he concluded that he sort of liked the way it felt…to have Yami as the friction against his burning skin. It did hurt, but it was a sexy kind of hurt, and he wanted more of it – of Yami's skin on his skin.

"I don't care," the thief said after another moment. "I want to stay like this for a while, if you don't mind."

"Since when do you care if I mind or not?" Yami asked, pressing his nose against Bakura's.

"Since you cared about the pain I was in…"

The sentence was so softly spoken that even up that close Yami wasn't sure if he'd heard it or not. Either way he whispered back, "I do care."

Bakura's eyes ignited, sending electric shivers down Yami's spine. "I know."

Heart racing, Yami quickly snatched the bottle of aloe and applied some to Bakura's stomach. His hand shakily smothered the gel around, across the other's subtle abs and razor hips. Bakura's breath left his lungs in a rush when one of Yami's slippery hands slid beneath the waistband of his trunks, and then lower still. The gelled hand wrapped around Bakura's member like a sticky pleasure glove. He closed his eyes. Suddenly he wanted to try to wake up; if this really was a dream, then he didn't want to be deluded any longer. It felt too good, being friends with Yami, being touched by him... That husky breathing sounded like a symphony in Bakura's ear. He gasped when his new "friend" started to move his hand in a manner that caused him to toss his head from side to side uncontrollably.

"You look beautiful," Yami whispered in flawless Egyptian, "when you thrash like that..."

Bakura let out a soft sound that was a cross between a moan and a cry. He was starting to feel not-so-safe anymore - vulnerability taking over with every passing second. The harder Yami pumped his hand, the closer Bakura came to letting go...and breaking down. Somehow in the midst of his passion Yami managed to notice the line between pleasure and insecurity start to blur on Bakura's face. He immediately wrapped his other arm completely around the skinny thief and pulled him close into a tight embrace. And then the world spun out of orbit.

Their chests touched; Bakura's eyes opened; their lips met...and Yami stopped his ministrations because they were no longer needed. Bakura came into his palm the moment they kissed.

"Are you okay?" Yami asked quietly after their breathing had returned to normal. He wiped his hand off on Bakura's black sheets and hoped the thief wouldn't be too angry about it... If he was then Yami would just have to make it up to him in the best possible way.

"Mhmm." The thief's eyes were once again closed with his head resting peacefully on his pillow. He looked happy, and that made Yami happy. The ex-Pharaoh felt a teeny bit proud of himself for finally gathering up the nerve to go through with making the first move. Bakura certainly wasn't easy to get along with on a normal basis; he had the avid habit of making an argument out of anything. Not to mention physically he could probably give Yami a run for his money. The sunburn actually worked in his favor, for what it was worth. Bakura was just dazed enough to let down his inner barriers.

The evening played out perfectly. The start of this long-awaited relationship couldn't have come about any better.

Eventually Bakura fell asleep like that, after Yami had pressed many butterfly kisses to the hot skin on his face, neck, and shoulders. A tiny smile was playing on Bakura's lips while he slept. Yami thought he looked extremely adorable – and a lot like Ryou, actually – though that was something he'd never say to him aloud. Bakura would take it as an insult and get angry.

Careful not to wake the slumbering spirit, Yami lifted himself up off the bed and made his way back downstairs. A smug-looking Yugi was waiting at the door with a giggling-Tea, impatient-Joey, and narrowed-eyed-Tristan.

"What?" Yami asked, also narrowing his eyes at the group that seemed to have something on their minds that they didn't want to say aloud.

Ryou walked into the hall from the kitchen at that moment and saw Yami. "So?" he asked, "How'd it go?"

"As usual," Yami lied, glaring at his friends and his aibou.

"What took you so long, then?" Yugi asked with a knowing smile.

It was Yami's turn to smile, causing the looks of the others to falter. "Oh, you know how it goes. Come on, I've got a hankering for a duel after putting up with the tomb-robber... Let's go."

That was all he said before he made his way out the door, expecting the rest to follow. Ryou looked surprised and shrugged to all their faces, but after they left as well, he burst into a grin that split-his face. He could tell Bakura was fast asleep through their link, just as he could tell from the passion that had flared through it earlier what had transpired between him and the Pharaoh.

Mission accomplished, he thought.

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[A/N: Hopefully this will make up for what I'd promised in Ultimatum. You'll find out why eventually, if you didn't just now. Reviews and life stories are always greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.]