Title: Rich and Supple

Disclaimer: I am writing this story for fun and not profit. The characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. Therefore I own nada and make nada.

Pairing: Mobiumshipping.

Warnings: Sexual relations between men. Slight humor. OOCness.

Rating: M

Summary: Yami's gone by a strict routine every day for lunchtime. He leaves work by 1:45, walks three blocks to the Sublime Doughnuts for a chocolate glazed donut, drizzled in caramel and sits in the Domino Gardens for a leisure afternoon. By 2:30 he should've been returning back to the office. Funny how a simple distraction can ruin an otherwise, normal day. Two-shot.

Author's Notes: The inspiration for this two shot is very amusing. Imagine an offhanded comment about donuts leading me to decide I need to practice writing a threesome lemon? I seriously hope this will remain at two chapters.

A Nibble Leads. . .

"Did you see the bird, Mama? Did you? He took the bread from my hand!" a small red haired boy exclaimed excitedly to his mother.

"I did see sweetie. You were so brave."

"We have to give him more, Mama. I want to see his friends!" His chubby, blushing face animated into one of cheer and shine as he held his palms open for more bread crumbs. "I saw Ginny get a red one," he said, "I want to get another. Maybe blue? You think I can, Mama? Or maybe that grey one over there?" The child went on undecidedly about which color enchanted him more.

Yami chuckled and looked away from the scene. The Domino City Gardens wasn't as crowded with tourists as it'd been yesterday. People from every walk of life frequented the twenty-five-hundred acre landscape to enjoy the newly bred tulips, lavenders, and various other colorful posies from the neighboring islands. Yami hadn't had the pleasure of enjoying the sights today like everyone else. Yami was too busy offering coverage to a fellow co-worker whose wife was due to deliver his first son earlier then the predicted date.

It was all fine. Yami didn't mind the extra load, because well, he liked to work. Since moving to Domino City four years ago, he'd adopted a very strict routine, you see.

Go to work, handle whatever necessary duties he needed to do, go to lunch and enjoy it within the allotted hour and thirty minutes, return to continue his employment and by late evening, drive home to fix dinner. On the few occasions he'd opted to leave his routine, it'd been to attend luncheons, charity balls or invitations out to hang with a few acquaintances. The city was friendly enough, with the few civilians who didn't mind offering a kind wave or a sunny smile.

Today Yami was pleased to fall into this casual routine as he checked the time on his Rolax Jungle Datona watch, while his fingers fiddled with the buttons of his slim fit powder blue Hugo Boss dress shirt. Not only were his weekdays predictable, but so was his state of attire. Anyone who knew Yami, would know that he rarely strayed far from dress shirts and neatly pressed gray, black or off cream slacks, always neatly pressed with a crease sharp enough to slice metal. And his shoes? Spit shined with the oily glisten of polished onyx.

Yami always carried his briefcase in his right hand, as it was the stronger and more dominate one so he could use his left one to exercise for smaller tasks such as opening doors. He wrote with his right and flipped sheets with his left. He followed the words of a book with his left index while he'd hold phone conferences and summon his secretary with his right index finger. All in a day's work really.

He planned to use this same right hand-left hand concept today as he casually strolled down the three blocks it took to get to the quaint donut shop down the street. The Domino City Garden's aligned his entire journey from start to finish, so Yami thought it was perfectly natural to sometimes glance over and enjoy the splendor of bright sunshine, the cooling breeze, the sway of many flowers and . . . someone sitting on the exact bench he used to enjoy his lunch.

But, oh no, that couldn't be. For as long as Yami could remember, that cherry wood bench has always been vacant. And now it was being occupied by someone—someone who was oddly difficult to look away from.

Yami's eyebrows folded into a small frown as he took in this intruder.

The boy— yes he would be deemed that because his face made him look eighteen, and Yami wouldn't dare assume any older. He was thin and lean with muscles that traveled in precise and even hills on his body, down to the dip of pectorals shown beneath a solid black sleeveless t-shirt. The boy's pants were dark tan cargo shorts with far too many pockets and those legs were toned and crossed, holding a HP laptop. His fingers were shooting across the keyboard like he was attacking a fly.

Yami tried several times to get a closer look at young man's face, which was a task because he had a monstrous pile of crimson and black hair with gravity defying blond bane. Yami noticed a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses, perched on the boy's nose and he'd use his left hand to push them back up while his right continued on. Yami could see oval shaped purple eyes hiding behind those square lens and sensed something alluring about him.

Yami's observation should've ended with the eyes, but he helplessly continued to stare because, um, because this young man's attitude just didn't fit those eyes. They looked innocent, pure and naïve to the world, but the rest of him? Just-just no. The teen's arms were laced from elbow to shoulder in tribal tattoos and around his neck was a spiked choker. The sun's beating heat made sweat perspire near his neck and chest, making the cottony material mold to his chest like a sodden glove.

'Oh my, he is a strange one,' Yami mentally mused at the outlandish attire. Though, being a red blooded man himself, Yami couldn't deny the subtle attraction. In between the few trees that blocked his view as Yami walked on, his eyes kept returning to the young man on the bench busily typing away, oblivious to being observed.

Maybe he wasn't entirely oblivious, because the next time the boy looked away from his computer screen and pushed up his glasses, his purple eyes immediately fixed themselves on Yami and locked on as if spotting a pink glove in the midst of blue. They stared on for a while, the teen more intensely then Yami.

Yami offered a small smile. The boy did not. He tilted his head, eyes owlishly blinking behind his glasses, then lifted his eyebrow, tooting his lips to the side. Next, he rolled his eyes and went back to typing at lightning speed.

'What kind of look was that?' Yami didn't know whether to be offended or confused because as far as he knew, he wasn't a bad looker. He was damn near gorgeous and sexy. He'd tamed a few vixens in his day and could whip a dragon to his knees, if he so choose. Curiosity had Yami mentally urging the young man to look up again in hopes that he could get a gander at those young, doe eyes because they very captivating. But still, what the hell was with that look?

Oomph!

Yami's voice and someone else's quickly offered an apology.

"Excuse me," that was his.

And this one was not. "No, it was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going."

Whoever Yami ran into could double for a brick wall. His forehead felt numb and his chest was trying to remember on to contract. Yami was so out of sorts that when he tried to step back, he hadn't noticed the long, slender fingers cuffed around his bicep. Yami cleared his throat and fully straightened, and prepared himself to give a professional smile.

Yami's smile was in place and nearly fell when he looked up at the face of his savior. His dark burgundy eyes connected with dusky lavender eyes turned light plum when stepping out of the mouth of the donut shop. This man's skin, his face, all of him was tanned as dark as a caramel frappe. His body was firm and tight beneath a pristine white button up and royal blue pants uniform, courtesy of Domino City's Police Department. Yami's wrist grazed over what felt like a stone wall, but was definitely the gentleman's bulletproof vest. That didn't mean the man's body wasn't just as hard. And that hair, it was untamed and free to sprout in whatever direction it wanted, painting his crown in dark red, light black and gold banes.

Yami cleared his throat, remembering his manners and forced his eyes to stare at the man's face and not his naughty places. "Please excuse me, I should've watched where I was going."

"I think we already covered the apologies, sweetheart, but I appreciate the generosity," the man mused, winking.

Yami caught the blush before it rose to his cheeks because how undignified would it be to blush like a child?

"So, were you going inside?"

Inside? Oh. Oh! "Yes, yes I was." Yami ducked his head sheepishly. He'd made it to the donut shop faster than he realized. Perhaps eye-raping a total stranger had a way of making time go by. He cleared his throat again and straightened his shoulders. "I'm normally more watchful of where I'm going."

"Are you? What distracted you?"

Yami blinked. "What?"

The man shrugged. "You said you're normally more watchful. I'm asking what distracted you."

"Well, I was," Yami chewed his bottom lip and quickly let it go to say, "admiring the scenery. The flowers this year get so vibrant. I think anyone could get caught up in their beauty."

A deep, baritone chuckle rumbled in the officer's chest. "Flowers huh? Yeah, I guess they could make someone wanna stare."

For several minutes neither man spoke. Then at the same time they smiled, hands out to say—

"Yami Sennen."

"Officer Atem Din."

—at the same time.

The two stared, and then laughed, a collaboration of mirth both thick and husky. Yami could imagine how rich Atem's voice might sound when enticed . . . and he wouldn't dare wonder so quickly because that was not like him. Yami did, however admire the rough and dry texture of Atem's hand. They shook hands, and Atem's grasp lingered a moment, as if memorizing the texture of Yami's hand before letting go.

"You always give your entire name to strangers?" Atem asked.

"It's a hard habit to break. I introduce myself at my occupation and it's always my entire name or no name at all," Yami explained. "Do you always label yourself during introductions?"

"It comes with the territory," Atem's hand tapped the bronze name tag over his breast pocket and the large oval police badge on the other side. "Its proper protocol and all. I get so wrapped up in my work, I hardly remember whose suspect and who isn't."

"Do I look suspicious?"

"I don't know," Atem lifted his eyebrow playfully. "You said you were distracted when you're normally careful. A man only breaks his concentration when something extraordinary comes his way. And that could be anything."

Yami chuckled. "You think the male species is that simple?"

"Hey, food, a nice ass or bright colors, is what it takes for me."

Yami's stomach suddenly growled. He glanced around and then checked his watch. He hadn't lost too much time, thank goodness, but he was a bit behind. He could still go about his business and have his lunch but he'd need to hurry.

"Hungry?"

Yami gave a slight nod. "I'm a little behind schedule, but hopefully Duke has my caramel dip ready."

"I wouldn't count on it." Atem jutted his thumb over his shoulder. "The stove's on the frits. They'd been trying to fix the damn thing for an hour. All that's left are the originals and a few chocolates."

"Damn," Yami fiercely swore. That was not acceptable. Caramel dips were the only donuts he craved here. Nothing else tickled his fancy, not to mention he preferred his treats fresh and piping hot. What on earth was he going to do now?

"Is it that serious?"

Yami sighed, rubbing behind his head. "It's complicated to explain," he said carefully. "I don't eat anything else here, you see. Caramel dips are the only things I buy and without it, I'm not sure."

"Have you tried the other items?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Yami bounced his shoulders in a shrug. "I never considered it. I'd hate to eat something that ruins the reputation of this place."

The side of Atem's lips pulled in a corner. "I hope you're not the kind of man who must go by the straightest of straight lines and follow the strictest rules, because that'd be a pretty fucked up way of living."

Yami's face went slack in surprise, both at the accurate explanation of his life and the ease of the word fuck coming off this man's lips. Yami scowled. "I don't think my way of living is, um, as disorderly as you say. I quite like my routine."

"You enjoy being a tight-ass?"

"My behind isn't tight."

Atem blinked, and suddenly a slow, lecherous smirk tugged his plump lips. "So you're gentleman for the public, but a freak in the sheets. I never would've guessed."

Yami sputtered and gawked like he'd been splashed with cold water. It was so funny, Atem's head leaned back and he let out a riotous laugh. Had that lustful laugh not washed down Yami's spine like pedicured nails, he would've gladly told the man where he could shove his assumptions.

"You know, I would've remembered seeing someone like you. Where do you work, Yami?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

"It can be," Atem retorted casually. "Depending on how you take it, it could be my tactful way of getting to know you a little bit."

Yami's mouth pulled into a knowing grin. "Are you coming on to me?"

"If I say yes, can we finish this conversation at the park, sexy?"

"You're confident enough to believe I'll approve?" And bold enough to call me sexy too.

"Well, if it were a no, you would've punched, or in your prissy case, slapped me, by now."

Oh, he's a handsome jackass that much is certain. And charming. Yami liked that. He decided to play along and for once, indulge in a bit of flirting. He'd already buffed up his routine for the day. Straying off a little longer couldn't hurt. "I'm a businessman, Officer Din. If this were a proposal to merge with my company, I would've declined. You'll need to entice the deal a little more to earn my time."

Atem snorted. "Are you always this difficult to please?"

"Do you always find it easy to sweet talk your way into someone's pants?"

"Yes, yes I do actually. But I'm willing to work for it too, especially if it's worth the chase. . ." Atem's voice trailed into an approving purr as his gaze heatedly skated over the build and mold and valleys of muscle hidden beneath Yami's funky business clothes. "Hmmph, damn." Atem licked his lips, tugging the bottom between his teeth. "You got a nice body on you. I definitely wouldn't mind putting in a little more effort to see it."

Yami's cheeks proved it could go three kinds of red when properly coaxed. "You're a hound," he murmured.

Atem snapped his jaws like one. "Then feed me, sweetheart. Let's start by you letting me chew that bone." He bounced his eyebrows.

Yami's face summoned an astounded expression that then melted into amusement and a full-on laughter. "You're a character. I've never met a man like you."

"Hell, I should hope not," chuckled Atem. "I strive to be one of a kind. It takes skill to be like me."

"I agree." More laughter, slightly softer now that the situation was sinking in. Yami shifted his weight from foot to foot, words failing him. He glanced over his shoulder, very much aware of the way Atem's eyes were probably tracing the arch of his neck from his collar.

Yami was right of course. Atem was admiring the firm curve and twist of his neck from an angle while Yami employed himself with staring at the park nearby.

Atem liked him. How often was it you bumped into a man as fine as Yami with intelligence, a nice body and a sweet pair of dimples that made his smile glow? Atem gave into temptation and leaned his face down to nose the back of Yami's dark hair. Yami tensed, and stepped back, turning around to look at Atem, not with contempt but interest, even if it was subtle.

Atem moistened his juicy lips and Yami's burgundy gaze darkened. What did those lips taste like he wondered?

"You have anywhere to be later?" Yami found himself asking and looking at Atem's lips instead of his eyes.

Atem gave the rural area a long sweep before shaking his head. "My mark's pretty tame around this time. I can spare a few minutes. What about you?"

"I." Yami paused to think. He could spare a longer lunch break. Who would really need him in the office? If trouble stirred up his partners, Bakura King and Tea Gardner, were more than capable of handling it until Yami got back. "An hour or so won't hurt," he said more to himself than Atem.

"Good." Atem lowered his hand to palm the small of Yami's back. They walked across the street and through the black iron gates entrance before navigating through the pathway that lead to the open space of the park.

Atem's hand never left Yami's back and Yami found the touch endearing, and thankfully not invasive. Atem was letting him lead the way to where they could sit and convey a while. It was fine because Yami knew the perfect spot. It was when he arrived that he'd nearly forgotten someone was already sitting there; in the same exact spot he'd seen the boy in about twenty minutes ago.

"Something wrong?" Atem inquired curiously.

Yami sighed. "It's nothing. I'm used to sitting where that young man is. It gives a good view of the park and . . ."

". . . You want to sit there?"

"I do, but not at the expense of ruining someone else's day."

Atem eyed Yami a second before glancing over at the young man. He studied him a while and Yami noticed that Atem was probably analyzing the young man the same way he had when he first saw him.

And Atem was. He'd never seen this kid around town before. Just look at him. His style was impossible to forget and that face was just as fascinating to stare at behind those big reading glasses. It gave him character or made him stand out in a good, odd, sort of way.

"Maybe he's willing to share," Yami said.

"What do you mean willing? It's a free damn country. Besides, who could turn down two handsome men?" Atem nodded his chin at the boy on the bench. "And he's not so bad to look at either."

Yami narrowed his eyes.

"What? He's handsome, we're handsome. Let's go sit and be handsome together." He rested a hand on Yami's ass and kept it there, spreading his fingers and then relaxing them in a gripping, squeezing and possessive manner.

Yami rose up to the tips of his toes, mouth open in a silent gasp and eyes wide with shock. Other than a tiny grunt, he didn't say a word as Atem ushered them over to the bench and stood there.

The boy didn't react for several clicks of his keyboard. When he finally finished, the young man finally acknowledge the opposing shadows. He looked at them with the most bored expression in the universe,

"Can I help you?" he said as if the very question drained him.

"Do you mind if we sit here?" Atem asked.

The boy blinked. "Do you really need my permission?"

"It's only polite."

The boy's gaze stretched from the space on his left and then on his right. He gave Atem and now Yami another stupid look. "Whatever. Sit, I guess." Then he went back to typing on his computer.

Yami was grateful. But there was a problem. "Do you mind scooting over?"

"What?"

"Would it be alright if you moved over a little?" Yami said gentler.

"Hell no."

"What?"

The boy looked up, his black glasses dipping to the bridge of his nose. "Hell. No." And, he went back to typing.

"Why not?" Atem said, popping an eyebrow.

"Because I parked my ass here first, Officer . . ." The boy looked up just long enough to read Atem's name tag, "Din—the hell kind of last name is that— yeah, I'm not moving. Unless it's illegal to sit on cherry wood?"

Yami and Atem shared a look. "Maybe we could sit somewhere else?" suggested Yami.

"You're gonna have too 'cause I'm not moving," the boy said out of the blue, typing slower and suddenly picking up speed.

Atem dipped his head down to whisper in Yami's ear. "I got this. Just hold on a bit." He gave Yami's butt a gentle pat. Whatever he planned to do, Yami hoped it worked out fine because this kid had a stubborn attitude.

Atem squatted down to the ball of his heels next to the bench. "Listen son—" his hand landed on the kid's knee.

And the young man smacked it right off without his eyes leaving the computer screen. "My father's name is Jamison Muto, my mother's name is Sakura Muto and my grandfather's name is Solomon Muto. Since you're none of the above, what gives you the right to address me as son?"

Atem's eyebrow twitched. "Alright, fair enough. Kid—"

"I'm twenty one."

"Sir," Atem tried again with slow, deep and careful words. "I'm asking nicely if you'll kindly allow me and my friend to sit alongside one another to enjoy each other's company."

"I'm not obligated to comply."

"I'm sure you have much work to do, but wouldn't it better doing it elsewhere?"

At last, the young man lifted his eyes from the computer screen. His eyelids drooped halfway down his eyes as he switched looking at Atem and then up and down at Yami. Yami felt the urge to snap to attention and then could've kicked his own ass for thinking such a thing. He was older, more mature and worth more than this brat could imagine. That's exactly what he needed to remember to match this kid's glare with one of his own.

The boy blinked, a little surprised and frowned harder. "Out of all the benches here, you wanna sit on this one?" he stated in irritation. "God, some people." He typed in several keys, waited and slapped his laptop shut with a hard snap. He uncrossed his legs and stood, his height surging up as high Yami's nose. A black and grey backpack was retrieved from behind the bench along with a neon green Slurpee cup. "Here, knock yourselves out," he snapped and started down the sidewalk, clutching his black laptop under his armpit.

That wasn't exactly how Yami had wanted things to go. And from how Atem was massaging his eyes, perhaps he agreed.

"He could've stayed," Yami voiced.

"He could've but I don't feel like dealing with attitudes today." Atem grunted as he stood, still watching the boy grow smaller and smaller down the sidewalk. There was another bench more blanketed in the shade of some magnolia trees down the way. It was fairly empty of people and the grounds were covered in white petals. The young man sat there and returned to typing on his computer.

Yami looked over his usual position on the bench, where his right elbow would rest on the armrest while he ate his caramel dip. He sighed, long and hard because it seemed today was just going to be one of his familiar days. Guilt was an emotion Yami despised more than anger because it had a nasty habit of lingering until the problem was fixed.

Clenching his briefcase handle in one hand and reaching over to grab Atem's hand, Yami yanked and together they stalked down the sidewalk toward the next bench. He slammed his briefcase down on the side, drawing the boy's narrow-eyed attention for all of three seconds before he went back to typing.

"What, you wanna force me off this bench too? I swear, I'll boycott this whole damn park until I'm allowed to sit wherever I want!"

Yami didn't say a word. Actions spoke louder than words after all. He plopped himself on the left side of the boy and leaned forward to stare at the city life. A moment later, Yami barked a sharp, "Sit down," at Atem and the officer, shrugged, casually strolling over to occupy the other side. These two have literally fucked up Yami's day. Hell, they might as well tolerate each other's company.

Together the three sat, quiet and chilled; no one speaking, no one offering a single word and just, Jesus this was awkward as hell. The finger typing was the only sound cracking the silence at fifty-three words per minute.

Children played, parents watched from afar and joggers jogged. People were reading, some were walking their dogs and others were able to carry a conversation with total strangers. But not here, oh no.

Atem wasn't concerned with the tense atmosphere brewing around him like a storm cloud because he chose to enjoy the beautiful scenery. The young man's digits continued to race across the keyboard, eyes elevating up and down and lips puckered in a concentrated pout.

Yami chewed his bottom lip, catching the profiles of his quiet company out of the corner of his eye.

Yami settled back against the bench. "This is awkward."

"No shit," the boy grumbled with a hint of amusement. "I'm just sitting here minding my own business and I get bench-jacked by a couple of old men."

Atem, who was fully relaxed on the bench, legs crossed at the ankles, gave the young man a boyish smirk. "Bite your tongue, boy. Didn't your mother ever tell you the older the berry, the sweeter the juice?"

"Nah, 'cause if she saw anything old turning into juice that meant it was rotten, spoiled or bleeding. So it was thrown out."

Yami looked between the two, tilting his head. He forced a smile. "So, what's your name?"

"What's it to you? You a cop too?" the young man bit off.

"No, I'm just attempting a friendly conversation."

"Oh," the boy's fish bowl eyes blinked with a new kind of curious shine in them. "Well, that's different. Yugi Muto," he answered. "Aren't you supposed to be weary of strangers?" Yugi faced the officer. "Why aren't you enforcing stranger danger?"

Atem quirked an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "I should be suspicious of you, dressed as you are."

"And what's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Look at you," Atem exclaimed. "You look like some kind of gothic hood."

Yugi scoffed, "Right, I'm a gothic hood sitting in the middle of a flower park on his laptop. I'll spread the word about DPD's prejudice of people dressed in black. Pfft, baka."

"Excuse me?"

"I said baka, baka."

Yami snickered behind his hand, drawing the arguing pair's attention. He shrugged, "Don't mind me. Carry on."

Atem snuck Yami a mean look before glaring back at Yugi. "The hell is a baka?"

"A fool, idiot, jackass, prick, jerk i.e. you." Yugi rolled his head from side to side, working out the kinks. "I'm Japanese. Don't tell me you're racist too. You already accused me of robbing old ladies. What's next? Me fucking egg rolls?"

Yami barked a long hard laugh, bending at the waist. He nearly died, his stomach hurt and when he glanced up, he found his officer buddy looking offended and a sly smirk on Yugi's face.

"What?" Yami said after catching his breath. "It was funny. I don't care who laughs, I'll laugh by myself."

"Hm, at least some of us have a sense of humor," chuckled Yugi. "I like you. You got a name?"

"I do, but if I'm going to exercise stranger danger, maybe I shouldn't trust my identity to suspicious-egg-roll-fucking Goths."

Yugi gawked and it was Atem's turn to have a long, good laugh. His laughter rivaled a bongo drum, thumbing every octave in Yami and even Yugi's chest. Yugi stuck out his tongue and uttered something awful in his native language but Atem begged him to say it again.

"I said, baita!" Yugi snippily repeated.

"The hell does that mean? Speak English!"

Yami quickly intervened. He wasn't fully fluent in Japanese but hanging around some of his coworkers made sure he knew what that particular word meant. "So, how long have you been in America?"

"About three years. I'm a graphic designer for the Kaiba Corporation across town. What about you, Yami? What gets the bills paid?"

"Advertisement. I'm senior partner at Heartfelt's Design and Media."

Atem whistled, impressed. "No wonder you're a tight ass. Plenty of the boys down there keep fat pockets."

Yugi sucked his teeth. "You have no room to talk, Officer Ding–a-ling."

"Officer Din," Atem corrected.

Which Yugi completely ignored. "You could bounce a quarter off your asses, they're so tight. What's your first name?"

"Can I use a fake one?"

"If it's better then Dingo."

"Atem."

Yugi tasted the name on his tongue and nodded. "Hmmm, Atem Dick. I'll settle with that. Now," he flicked his wrist like swatting at a fly. "You're getting on my nerves. Go buy me a drink."

Atem gave Yugi a stupid up and down look. "Excuse me? The hell do I look like?"

"The back of someone who needs to get me a soda," Yugi answered simply. He turned to Yami. "You want anything?"

"I am a little thirsty," Yami said.

"See? He's thirsty. I am too. Make yourself useful and get us a coke."

Atem jolted. "With my money?"

"You're supposed to serve the people? It's your civic duty to make sure we're satisfied citizens. So serve us."

"I oughta serve you this di—"

"The time you're wasting talking to me, could've been used getting us something to drink."

Atem sighed and pushed to his feet, purposely knocking his shoulder against Yugi's. He didn't succeed in making the laptop hit the ground but he did ring a disgruntled sound out of the young man, which worked just fine.

Atem faced them. "You have any coke money?"

Yugi blinked. "You can't afford three dollars? Damn, no wonder you're bitter. I'd find better employment. They're working you like a starved dog."

"Kid, you ever heard of Anne Wilkes?"

"Oh my! You can read too?"

"You got a smart ass mouth," Atem finally said chuckling and turned with softer eyes to Yami. "What can I get you, sweetheart?"

Yami waved his hand. "Anything's fine."

"I'll have a sprite," Yugi volunteered.

"No one asked you, Anne. You'll get whatever I buy." Atem threw over his shoulder as he left the pair and headed across the street to the donut shop.

Yami watched him walk off, unaware of the smirk on his face and the warming sensation in his chest. This was, sort of nice. He hadn't had a day this interesting since, well, ever. Atem was a quite a character but this Yugi? What a mouth. And cute to boot. So was Atem. He had this confident prance in his stride that spoke of a cool and cocky man. The arms protruding out of Atem's uniform were roped with lean, smooth caramel muscles and what a chest. His entire abdominal had to be as firm and chiseled as ice chips and those legs. They went on forever. His aura positively radiated sex appeal and the laze hood of his eyes spoke volumes of a man with incredible poise. Yami squirmed. He hadn't felt this hot under the collar in years.

"He's got a nice ass doesn't he?"

"Indeed he does," Yami said in his head and out of his mouth. Once he realized it, it was too late to retract the words. His cheeks flushed and he tugged at his collar. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Yugi tilted his head. "It is nice. Hell, I wasn't lying when I said you could bounce a quarter off their butts. Believe me, I tried and it sailed back home." Yugi flipped his head to examine Yami a little closer as well. "You're not too bad off yourself. I love the voice. You ever considered being a radio host?"

Yami's face proved to be even more interesting as it darkened several shades of red. "No, though I've been told of it a few times."

Yugi snickered. "You're so easy to tease. What about me? Am I attractive?"

Yami glanced over and openly admired the lean, slender plains of Yugi's slighter body. It looked better up close than it had from a distance because now, Yami could fully see how the shirt glued itself to Yugi's physique. "Very much so. Do you jog?" Yami absentmindedly asked.

"Sometimes."

"It shows." It really did. Even with his legs folded, the outline of Yugi's toned calves and thick thighs were clear. Yami bet if he ran his fingers down the peach toned skin it'd feel supple and smooth. By the time Yami's eyes finished combing every piece of Yugi's body he looked up to find the young man, looking elsewhere but the hint of pink on his nose was hard to ignore.

'Now who was easy to tease?' "Are you embarrassed?"

"What? No, I know I look good," Yugi quickly defended. "It's just, the way you looked at me," he shuddered. "I feel violated, but in a good, naughty way." He rubbed up and down his arms, to scare off the onslaught of Goosebumps.

"There's a good way to being violated?" Yami murmured, amused.

"With that kind of voice, it is."

"So, you like my voice?" Yami said a little huskier. "How much?"

"Oh, I like it a lot." Yugi's eyes darkened and his lips pulled up on the sides. "It's a fetish, weird I know, but I can," he scooted closer, "always get off when a man whispers in my ear."

"What do you like to hear?"

"Dirty words. Something nasty. Anything that makes my body squirm."

"Like this?" A breeze caressed Yugi's other ear so suddenly, he jumped and half landed on Yami's shoulder. That tone nearly sent Yugi into a cardiac orgasm. When he turned, he met Atem's teasing grin.

The officer held out the canned drinks and retook his seat. "Missed me?"

"Not really," Yugi said, snatching his drink. He took a sip and sighed. "Oh, I needed this," he perversely moaned.

"I tend to make people react like that," said Atem. He sent a wink Yami's way.

Yugi caught it and suddenly looked between the two. "I didn't even bother to ask. Are you two, an item?"

He got two answers.

"No," said Yami

"Not yet." That was Atem.

All of them shared a confused look. Well, except Atem. He'd meant what he said. Yugi frowned. "So which is it? No? Yes?"

"Eventually, but he's skittish," Atem answered.

Now this was getting very interesting. Yugi placed his laptop to sleep mode and flipped it down. "I think it's cute. The whole shy thing, I mean."

"So do I," Atem puckered his lips and blew an air kiss Yami's way. "Now, if he's not willing, I can deal with a hot tamale like you. As long as you get rid of the attitude." He clipped Yugi's chin with his finger and didn't seem fazed when his hand was smacked away.

"I don't play second fiddle," said Yugi. "I'm always first." He flicked his wrist dismissively at Atem and gave Yami his full attention. "Since you're not attached anyway, why not hang around with me? I'm young but my body's got low mileage. I can use a tune up."

"My dick's got plenty of gas for ya, sweetheart," chuckled Atem.

Yugi blew a playful kiss. "Think you can fill up my gas tank?" He bumped his shoulder against Yami's. "You too. I'd love your company."

Yami laughed, shaking his head. "I'd enjoy going out with the both of you if I could. You've made my day quite enjoyable. I can't remember ever laughing as much as I—what?" Yami said when Yugi continued to give him a peculiar look.

Draping an arm behind the bench, Atem leaned forward and said in a hushed tone, "What if you could?" He glanced up and noticed Yugi's gaze turning various colors all, warm and lustful. Yami's face flushed. Atem smiled and whispered something in Yugi's ear. Yugi grinned, shuddering down to his ankle socks and giggled.

"Oh, hell yeah," Yugi agreed, patting Atem's knee. "You know what? You're alright, Officer Ding Dong."

"It's Din, you lanky minx."

Yugi ignored him again and winked at Yami.

"Yami," Yugi slid over closer, puzzled from hand to shoulder against Yami. He leaned in and pressed his lips on Yami's ear to whisper. . .

Yami jerked back, stunned. "A threesome?"

Yugi nodded. "Why not? You're sexy, I'm fine and Atem's trying to be cute, but he'll do."

"Keep it up, Tiny Tim." The officer popped Yugi on the back of the head none too gently, ignoring his shout of pain. "Why not, sweetheart? We're both grown and Yugi's gonna grow out of his baby clothes someday—ouch." He rubbed his own popped head and glared something wicked when Yugi stuck out his tongue.

Yami couldn't believe what they'd asked him. He would never do such a thing. It was, it was immoral. What kind of person would he be if he agreed to a threesome with two complete strangers? He had standards. He was a traditionalist. There was no romance in one-night stands. All anyone gained was a single blissful night of hot sex and . . . and . . . Yami frowned.

What would he have to lose? He wasn't married, didn't have any children and, shit, when was the last time he'd cut loose? This day was already messed over. Why not reap the benefits?

Yami mentally nodded to himself. "Are either of you married?"

"No," they both said.

"Engaged? Dating anyone?"

"Nope."

"Have any children?"

"Hell no."

After a slow debate of weighing the pros and cons, Yami chewed his bottom lip and concluded that maybe. . . "Sure, why not." Though he should've started second guessing it when he spotted the predatory lick of Atem's lips and the white hot shine in Yugi's eyes.

Just what had Yami gotten himself into?

TBC: Updates on Fragile and Celestial Congo will resume Monday and Tuesday. So how did you like this first chapter?