I came home to find my lover lying on the couch, asleep. Or was he passed out? Only the amount of liquor left in the cabinet would tell. I sighed, taking off my rather frivolous white trench coat off and hanging it on the hook.

Then came the inevitable. Assessment of the liquor cabinet. Another sigh. I made my way over to it, running a hand through my hair before opening the cabinet doors. They made a quiet creak as I opened them. I simply frowned as I noticed the missing bottle of brandy. At least he'd made it look like he'd stayed up and waited. How romantic, I thought as I rolled my eyes, placing myself on the couch next to my darling "boyfriend". I don't know if he can be classified as a boyfriend or not. Whatever.

I ran a hand through his thick mop of white hair. I loved his hair. It was soft, gorgeous on him to boot. It seemed to complete the ragamuffin image he upheld. He stirred slightly, but I really didn't expect him to wake up after the bottle of brandy, so I continued to toy with his hair.

But you know what they say… Expect the unexpected. My lover stirred again, opening one chocolate-colored eye. "Well, well. Good evening, Seto," he said with a hint of bitterness. "Didn't expect you home for a few more hours."

I sighed. "Sorry, Bakura. You know work means a lot to me." I frowned, leaning back against the black leather couch as he sat up. "How else am I going to support--"

"Yeah, yeah." Bakura rolled his eyes. "All you ever talk about is that little pest of yours. It gets boring sometimes. Talk about something else. Why not tell me… Tell me why you come home to me every night, hm?"

I blinked. Tell him why? "Fine," I said. I ran a hand through his hair. "I love your hair. It makes me melt." I then brushed my thumb across his lips, which held a rare, small smile. "And I couldn't go a day without kissing your lips." At that point, I kissed him softly, and I felt him kiss me back. I pulled away after about a second. "Not to mention… You're a hell of a kisser." I smiled softly.

"Really now?" he asked in an amused voice.

"Really," I replied, seeing the smirk cross his face. I knew what that meant.

In an instant he pounced, and I was on my back on the couch. He kissed me in an almost savagely way. "Your eyes," he said. "I love them. Couldn't go a day without looking into your eyes." He kissed me again, roughly. But that was how we played. Rough.

I kissed him back, and this time I felt his tongue snake into my half-open mouth. But I pulled away quickly, slipping off his blue-and-white striped shirt. He pulled off my long-sleeved black one and kissed me again almost immediately, tongue coming into play early. I put my hands on his hips, pulling him down onto me. As if his bare chest against mine wasn't enough, the bulge in his blue jeans touched the one in my leather pants. I bucked. I gripped his shoulders, but he took my hands and held them together above my head.

He began to undo the button on my pants with his free hand, and I squirmed, trying to free my hands. He finally let go, and I went to work on his jeans. I had them removed and discarded in the same amount of time it took him to rid me of mine. We then removed each others' boxers simultaneously, and his shaft openly brushed against mine. I bucked again, arching my back.

"Tell me what you want, Kaiba. Beg me," he demanded.

I groaned, half in pleasure, half in protest. "You know what I want, Bakura."

"Beg," he repeated. He then stroked my member until I gave in, like he knew I would.

I moaned. "Oh…God. Bakura…fuck me," I said, quietly. "Fuck me," I said again, louder. And then I screamed it. "Fuck me!"

"That's a good little Kaiba," he said in a mock-cooing voice. Then he gave me what I wanted. He entered me, slowly. It was torment, at first. Then he began to pick up speed, and I moved my body in rhythm with his.

As he thrusted, he put a hand on my erection and began stroking. I moaned, for the simple fact that I knew he enjoyed the sound. His thrusts, and his stroking, picked up speed and I moaned louder, something I doubt I'd have done for anyone but him. I moaned harder, louder, until I finally came hard into his hand. Nearly simultaneously, his seed spilled into me and he pulled out completely, licking my semen off his delicate fingers.

To this day, I wonder why I let him of all people dominate over me. Whether it's his hair, his lips, or the fact that he's a hell of a kisser… I don't know. Maybe I just love him.

End.