Pairing: Respectshipping (Yami x older!Mokuba), deeply entrenched. Their relationship is already established prior to the start of this one-shot.

Premise: After losing the Ceremonial Duel, the Gods gift Yami with a new body as a reward for his role in defeating Zorc. Years pass and after working out some emotional issues, he finally accepts his existence for what it is. With some help from Mokuba, who just returned to Domino after completing school overseas, he has a more positive outlook on things and more opportunities before him. The two fall into a FWB arrangement during this period and, in the end, decide to pursue something more concrete. Yami inevitably becomes the catalyst for their D/s relationship; while Mokuba has doubts at first, he accepts.

Summary: "I have the strength to willfully submit. My mind and body are not mine, but entrusted to my care until such a time you take possession." After a night with friends, Yami finds two worlds colliding without much warning.

Continuity: This story is based in my "Be Cool" and "Stay Cool" Universe, featuring older!Mokuba and badass!submissive!Yami. There are now a lot of fics and prompt responses based in it, but if you can accept the premise (above) without reading them, you shouldn't have any problems. If Mokuba/Yami is difficult for you to perceive, I'd give perusing "Be Cool" (the shorter of the two, and complete to boot) a try.

Notes: Mostly this is an idea that popped up in my head. There's not a lot of slice-of-life based in D/s relationships, and I wanted to add to that currently very shallow pool.

Warnings: D/s, Powerplay, and implications of Depression.

Yami awoke with a start, eyes darting wildly. He hadn't fallen asleep in bed but in a chair instead, and that was odd.

There was a small bit of brightness peeking out from beyond curtains covering the windows in the den, and he could see the outline of a small body stretched out on the couch. Yuugi still slept soundly. Someone had covered him with a blanket at some point in the night. Probably Mokuba.

A blanket covered Yami, too, he realized. So definitely Mokuba.

What time is it?

This wasn't the first time Yuugi had come over for some late night gaming. Mokuba liked having company. If everyone else had been free, there would have been a party instead.

But usually no one spent the night. Anzu would go home around midnight with Otogi if he wasn't working; Jou and Honda would get up even at three or four if they had to. Yuugi usually slipped out while everyone was sleeping, not wanting to disturb anyone.

Not today.

This would be tricky. There were... tasks he had to complete. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Mokuba was already up.

The flat was quiet as he tiptoed into the kitchen. Deft hands followed familiar motions, taking from the counter then moving to the sink and back; reaching into cabinets next, a drawer; pouring and mixing and setting - he finished quickly.

Doing this was easy, muscle memory. And if Yuugi saw him, it wouldn't look the least bit out of place. The next bit was...

It was new. And whenever Yami wasn't used to something he would get nervous. This wasn't the first time, but he could count the number on both hands. He ran the words in his head, just to make sure he wouldn't mess them up.

Suddenly, he was frustrated. Why, of all things, had Mokuba needed to require this? It was... embarrassing. Made him feel small.

You are, Yami reminded himself, with a sigh. He was supposed to be.

Glancing back at the couch as he passed the den was not the best idea, but he did it without thinking. A breath caught in his throat as Yuugi too sighed, turning over on the cushions. But nothing else came of it, even after he became a sculpture affixed to the floor.

Yuugi was aware of some of his more... questionable desires, but that didn't stop other expectations. Everyone thought Yami was a beacon of strength, even in weakness; A paragon of leadership and perseverance when it came to others, even if he couldn't apply those advantages to himself. Even though he knew he'd fallen short more than once in meeting those impressions - especially since garnering this body - people were surprised when he did, shocked when he experienced inner turmoil.

Those things he had been: mentor, commander, ruler; he was no longer, at least not in the same way. This was not his time and Yami was learning to live life the rest of them. He would be crushed by his own shadow if he continued to hold himself to that standard. It was strange to think that no one had considered the other side of those virtues; he had always, inevitably, been at his best when being of use to others. In helping them he had found himself, once. This seemed to be the recurring pattern, hidden even from himself. Like his name, long ago, buried in sand and secrets.

How could it have taken him so long to realize such a thing - why did it always? The epiphany held him there for several seconds as he mulled it over, accepted it into himself. Finally he took a breath, entered Mokuba's room and pulled the door closed behind him.

The light was on. Mokuba had just gotten up by the look of it, legs thrown over the side of the bed, back to him. Hands rubbed at what he knew were tired eyes. Yami took a moment to glance at the clock to his right, confirming the time. He'd barely made the grace period and found himself a little pleased.

"Hm," was the greeting he received. "Thought you'd sleep straight through this morning." Mokuba stood and stretched, t-shirt and shorts shifting a bit awkwardly as he slid from the mattress into the movements. "Good morning."

Yami frowned at the thought. "Good morning, Mokuba." He spoke the name cautiously. It was, after all, a delicate gift that would break if not shown proper care.

Knowing that he'd been expected to fail wasn't a much better feeling, though, and he ended up biting his tongue. Being insulted so easily wasn't a thing he could stomach without reaction no matter how hard be tried. Today was a low day, he felt - the fire that usually spurned him to interact and assert himself wasn't in full force. Instead, he would have rather crawled back into bed and not do any of this at all.

"Anyone still here?"

"Yuugi," he answered, sounding more nervous than ever. "He's still here."

At this, Mokuba turned to face him, bushy black hair stretched out over shoulders. It was mostly everywhere. Equally dark eyes, focused and alert, studied him.

Another second of silence was all the indication he needed. Yami took measured, careful steps around the bed to close the distance between them. A few brought them face to face, and he folded into himself rather than have their gazes meet; pushed himself down until he was little, insignificant, and Mokuba was everything. Part of him was still concerned that they might be seen or heard somehow, and another felt guilty about it.

Yami was graceful as one knee and then the other touched the floor in smooth motions. He'd been practicing. Though he wasn't quite perfect yet, not fluid, there were few stutters in the action. Hands curled behind him, cupping one another, shoulders pressed back.

"I still have to get used to this," Mokuba muttered.

Whether the comment was about him or the extra few minutes it took to do this, Yami wasn't sure, but it wasn't any of his business; he wasn't being spoken to. Instead his temptation to deviate lay in other things. It was a struggle to keep from glancing at the door. His cheeks burned. The sooner he said it, the sooner he'd be done with it.

"I..." he began, trailing off. For just a moment, Yami considered risking punishment instead. He just didn't feel comfortable in the absence of complete privacy. Writing an essay or doing extra chores would drive him crazy, but maybe...

Mokuba tutted, sleepiness gone from his voice. "Don't tell me you forgot. Again."

Yami kept on, unhappy with the idea of wasting time; of hearing that voice so early in the morning. Again.

"I... I have the strength to submit willfully," he said, voice nearly a whisper, "and choose to be proud of it." He didn't want to be heard outside.

"Do you really?" Mokuba crossed his arms, then glanced at the door. "You don't sound like it. Say it again. If you don't do it right this time, you won't have to worry about being quiet. I'll make sure he hears you."

His chest tightened at the possibility and Yami struggled to hold himself still, to keep from twitching anxiously. He took a breath and repeated himself, slowly and deliberately, at a more reasonable volume. Having said them moments ago, the words came more easily. Though he couldn't see Mokuba's reaction, lack of interruption was a good sign.

"Alright," he was told once he'd finished. "I can believe that. The rest, now."

Mokuba's attention, in spite of what praise he'd received, felt more intense after. So Yami pressed out the rest. He shouldn't - couldn't - drag this out. They both had work to get to and more importantly, wasting Mokuba's time was not acceptable.

"My mind and body are not mine, but entrusted to my care until such a time you take possession." By the end of it, his eyes were screwed shut, fingers clutching at themselves behind his back.

They weren't, not as much as they should've been, and the pangs of his worries dug in deep. He still wasn't comfortable in his own skin, still was bothered by the opinions of those besides the man standing over him. His words shouldn't have been delivered in stutters, his pledge not tinged with doubt. Yami wasn't good enough, not for Mokuba, and that truth clawed at him inside.

"There, that wasn't so bad. You can get up, now."

That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be punished for his deception; then forgiven. But this was not the time. They would be late, and he was not so selfish as to demand that. He hadn't earned it.

When he stood, Mokuba pulled him into a hug. It was brief but punctuated with a kiss. Both were more than he deserved so he didn't dare cling. As Mokuba passed him to get to the shower, Yami backed into the bed and the wave of feelings washing over him dulled a little. He took another breath to steady himself, then ventured outside.

When there wasn't time to voice feelings or talk, sending a message from his phone was a bit more effective. Typing, rather than talking, gave Yami time to organize his thoughts properly. Mokuba could read them at his leisure and they could talk about it later. Hopefully when Yuugi wasn't in the den folding blankets. Not that he didn't appreciate it. There were others things that required his attention.

"Good morning!" Yuugi said cheerfully, as Yami moved towards the kitchen. Then the voice became more concerned. "You okay? You feel kinda... weird."

Yami chuckled awkwardly. Yuugi hadn't heard anything, it seemed, and that was relieving. "I'm fine," he managed, and sighed. Then he was back in the kitchen at least, where things made sense. Filling a cup of coffee didn't take thought or reflection. Those actions were familiar, too, and he did it perfectly.

With Yuugi so near, of course his emotions would read over clearly. They couldn't communicate using their thoughts anymore, their separate forms a barrier to that sort of directness. Yami was thankful for that. Apprehension aside, there was nothing wrong with wanting to keep a bit of privacy, he reasoned.

"Did you want any coffee?" He wanted to focus his thoughts elsewhere. On service. Because if Mokuba asked about this, the answer should be yes. They had a guest and even Yami knew that guests had to be tended to without being told.

"No. Just a glass of water. I'll be gone after that. Sorry."

Yami tried to think of what Mokuba would say. "Don't worry about it."

He meant it. Water was a simple thing, after all, and it wasn't Yuugi's fault that he was paranoid. He exited the kitchen with two mugs in tow - Mokuba had a lot of them - and after handing one of them to Yuugi, excused himself politely and disappeared into the room again.

"Thanks!"

Mokuba was waiting for him, standing in front of the vanity, fully dressed and fiddling with his tie. "Did you make enough for Yuugi?"

He knew it. Pride swelled in his chest this time and he stowed it away for later. "He wanted water," Yami said, smiling.

A hand reached out and he offered the coffee with both hands, eyes cast down.

"Thank you." Mokuba took several gulps in succession and passed it back. "I'm late," he added, without any particular inflection.

Was that his fault? Yami waited to see.

Mokuba moved close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Make sure you see Yuugi out. I won't be home until late tonight. Text me at noon."

Apparently not.

Yami hesitated. "I need to talk with you about something. Soon."

"Oh? Send a text, then. I'm out." Fingers curled under his chin, caressing for a moment, and then Mokuba was gone.

Outside Yami heard a short exchange, goodbyes to and from Yuugi before Mokuba left the flat all together. Only then did he emerge.

"You want a ride to the shop?" Yuugi was smiling as usual, trying to be soothing. The slight dip in dark eyebrows expressed mild concern, but nothing else was added.

That made it easier for Yami to relax a bit. He didn't have to work until the afternoon, but moving around would give him something to do. Sugoroku could probably use the extra help. "Sure. Just - let me hop in the shower first." It would only take a few minutes to put the morning out of his mind.

"Sorry for staying all night. I didn't mean to."

He yawned, and let the sound cover any awkwardness that lingered. "It's fine, really." But he did take a moment to move closer and take Yuugi's glass of water.

"Oh! I'll take it in, so you can get ready."

But Yami was protective of his tasks. They were really the only things that made up for his shortcomings. Though he wasn't feeling up to snuff today, there was no way to lie about his usual behavior. He and Mokuba often bickered, he protested and made excuses and sometimes was simply difficult. Doing all of this, letting it encompass pieces of his life that was sometimes visible to others was not as great as he'd thought it'd be at first. Even though Yami had been the one to ask, none of it had turned out the way he imagined. Mokuba required... work, for Yami to be rewarded. Physical labor was the easiest kind by far. A loop of the mantra from earlier played through his thoughts, and he fought back to the urge to flush on the spot.

"Ah, no. I'll handle it, thanks."

Yami was in the kitchen before there was room for more objection. It only took a few minutes to get the washing done and a few more to change. Yuugi was none the wiser about anything happening and he felt even more foolish as that fact settled in. He was the only person being weird about it all. His thoughts were all over the place.

While he dressed, he decided to do what he should have been doing this whole time: focusing on himself; focusing at all, because otherwise, he wouldn't be of use to anyone. Especially because he wasn't feeling great, he needed to do better.

As he pulled a shirt over his head, Yami told himself, "I have the strength to willfully submit."

"I don't believe you," Mokuba had said, and wasn't wrong. Yami wouldn't have believed himself, either. This time when he spoke, his voice didn't waver and he didn't hesitate. Maybe there was even a chance that he could be heard. But this was more important. Mokuba would be waiting for him, expecting things from him. It was the price of wanting to be led.

The rest was a reminder. "My mind and body are not mine, but entrusted to my care until such a time you take possession." There was nothing extraordinary in that promise. It was, in fact, the truth of what they had agreed to. He wasn't ready for anyone to know just yet, but it didn't mean he should shirk away from it, either. If Yuugi being around didn't bother Mokuba, it shouldn't have concerned him.

Yami forced one last breath before he finished and stepped out from the safety of inaction, back into the den. "I'm ready," he told Yuugi, who beamed.

"Sweet. Thanks for not kicking me out."

It was a much needed lesson, he supposed.

"It's fine, really, Yuugi."

{FIN}

Additional Notes: With Yami and Mokuba I usually try to show the more reluctant side of D/s, because not everyone starts off being great at it. I have a couple fics in the works where Mokuba is learning and practicing and reflecting, and those will hopefully be up soon (I want to finish Stay Cool first - sorry guys! My writing for this pairing has been all over the place, but I'm finished and just haven't been able to edit it yet) so just try to imagine this for now, haha.

Long story short, Mokuba was probably more nervous than he let on (I did try to show a little bit of his uncertainty here) but managed to pull off the demeanor he wanted. Running late for work leaves little time for second-guessing. This isn't all a cakewalk for Yami, either - he's not used to the stricter structure that's being imposed. I hope that comes across well enough.

Uhh, finally: Yami's devotional is a hodgepodge of things I've seen and talked with people about online. If you have any questions about it, ask on Tumblr!