Summary: These are five little Prideshipping shortfics written for a KnY lj challenge a while back. I stumbled upon them while organizing my documents and thought I'd put them up. They each wanted their own chapter… but I thought I would avoid clogging inboxes and put them all together.

The challenge: Choose one of the groups of five words and write a drabble or oneshot for each word. I chose the words: Oil, floppies (computer kind), horse, fan fiction, and potty

Warning! I wrote all 5 of these in less than an hour. They are not works of art, just something fun.

Rated for language and sexual suggestiveness. And fluffiness. Bits'o'fluff, all of them.

I don't own Yugioh.

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Ten-gallon

"Texas?"

"Yes, Texas. I'm buying an oil field. I have to go there to see it before I hand over the money. So, do you want to come? Or do you just want me to bring something back for you?"

"Um… why oil?"

"Yami, have you seen the price of gas? It's a good investment. Americans aren't going to give up driving, and electric cars were a bust. It's just a guaranteed side business that can generate research funds for Kaiba Corp. I might even be able to raise your R&D allowance for some of your… more novel… ideas."

"Okay… but why Texas? Isn't there more oil in the Middle East, or Alaska?"

"I have some sense of self-preservation, Yami. The Middle East is a political mess, and the governments control the oil. And Alaska? The environmentalists would roast me, and the press would eat me for breakfast. And they'd turn the children against me. You know, the children? The ones who buy my products? What is it you have against Texas, anyway?"

"Um…"

"…"

"I… don't like the hats."

End.

A/N: snickers I think it's the 'shrubbery' from Texas that Yami doesn't like. … Yes, well, sorry about that. Please keep reading, they might get better… But not the next one, not really. Advance sorry for that one, too.

Floppy

"But it's hard. Not floppy at all. See?" Yami tapped the diskette against the desk, then wiggled it in the air, attempting to make it 'flop.'

Seto sighed. He really should make Mokuba teach his boyfriend about computers. He had far more patience. Seto watched the floppy disk sail across the room as he had known it would.

"Oops, heh, I'll go get that."

They had already spent an hour discussing the 'mouse.' He didn't know why he even brought up floppy disks. They are almost obsolete, now, anyway. Seto sighed again then watched as Yami approached the corner where the disk now rested. His leather-clad bum swayed with each step, hypnotizing the mentally drained genius. His brilliance returned suddenly like the proverbial light bulb coming on, telling him that Yami had learned enough for today, and that their time could be much better spent.

"Oh Yami, I know something else that used to be floppy, and is now quite hard. Want to come over here and wiggle it, too?"

As they shed clothes and tangled their naked body parts, Seto made a mental note to assign Yami's computer lessons to Mokuba, after all. At this rate, Seto would never teach him anything. Anything computer related, that is.

End.

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Horse

"Horse?" Seto had no idea what his little lover was talking about. Why, exactly, had he stopped working on a 3 million dollar account to follow Yami outside?

"Yes, Mokuba taught me. We take turns shooting baskets. If one of us makes one, the other has to make the same shot. If you miss, you get a letter. First one to spell 'horse' loses." Yami's eyes sparkled. He was very excited by this idea.

"And just how many baskets did you make in your game with Mokuba?" Seto cocked a brow.

"None yet," Yami responded excitedly, "but Mokie says I'm getting better. And, he's lowering the basket for our game! He said we both need the advantage."

Seto's eyes narrowed. Just what did Mokuba mean by that? He could play basketball if he wanted to. He just didn't want to.

"Yami, if you want to spend some time together, we could have a duel, or go upstairs…"

"Seto! I want to play horse! It's something regular guys do. We had games in Egypt, you know. I wasn't allowed to play. Too busy studying." He stopped, turning to Seto. "Well, you know how that is." Yami's voice was gentle. He started walking briskly again, leaving Seto's childhood on the walkway behind them. "Anyway, I just want us to play this once! If you hate it, we'll never play again. …unless you win… But that won't happen, so don't worry."

Seto let himself be dragged to the court, as he knew he would. He wasn't very good at denying the Game King anything. And the little guy looked awfully yummy in those shorts. Yami looked good in them, too. Maybe if he played for a short while, they could still take this upstairs. If Yami wanted a horse, he'd give him something to ride. If he wanted to play with balls, he knew of a couple that would enjoy a play date. If he wanted to do lay-ups…

"Seto?" Yami broke him from his euphemistic mind play. They had arrived and Yami had thrown him the ball, which was currently rolling away. Considering the ball had sailed right past him, and Yami was only standing 10 feet away, Seto didn't think it likely that the spirit would make his first basket anytime soon.

Seto eyed the basket. Mokuba had lowered it to just above his reach. 'Hell, Mokuba, I don't suck that bad.' Well, this would work out for the best. He'd let his boyfriend run around a bit, then make five quick baskets, then bring him upstairs for a slam dunk. Actually, he was starting to see the advantage his brother was talking about. He'd have to thank him, later. Much later.

Of course, he knew if he won that Yami would challenge him until he could beat him, but that's okay. He thought this was a routine he could look forward to, after all.

End.

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Game Boy

"Why do you need a laptop, you know you can use one of my computers." Seto was currently seated at one, not even breaking his key stroke to have this conversation.

Yami sighed and half-closed his eyes. He knew he should have waited for a better moment. Though, he wasn't sure which moment would have been best for this request. He had tried 'distracted-by-work,' but was now sure that 'guilty-for-ignoring-Yami,' was the better mood for getting his way. But he wanted the laptop now, and the former was the CEO's most prevalent mood. The problem with 'distracted-by-work' was its potential to become 'all-attention-on-Yami,' in a preemptive move to avoid 'guilty' altogether, and that was the last thing the spirit wanted just now.

His eyes flew open as he registered the silence. Seto had stopped typing and was looking at him, concern in his countenance, and the beginnings of curiosity, which, for the CEO, often meant suspicion. Yami needed to play this right to get out of the conversation with his pride and privacy intact, and forget about the laptop. But he really wanted it. Maybe there was still a way.

"Oh, baby, I don't want to get in your way. I know you are busy, and keep important things on you computers. If I had my own, I could keep occupied while you are working, and I wouldn't worry about screwing up your stuff." He let his eyes widen just a little. Too much would bring back the suspicion, but just a little might bring out the guilt. Sometimes it paid to have a workaholic boyfriend.

Yami could see the guilt winning in said boyfriend's eyes. "I do leave you alone a lot, don't I?"

He drew a curve on the floor with his toe. "Oh, I understand. I'm just looking for ways to be a little more self-sufficient. I… I know you don't like it when I interrupt you…" Yami knew he was pushing it just a little, but he was so close!

Seto moved his mouth into a grim smile and reached a hand out to his little lover. Yami moved closer and took the hand. The brunette's other hand brushed a lock of blond hair from his face. "Okay, baby, we'll get you your own computer…" Seto swept him into a hug that took a sudden left turn at the same moment that the grim smile became a wicked smirk. "…just as soon as you tell me why you want private files. That is what this is really about, isn't it?"

Yami, pinned between Seto and the desk, with his wrists held securely in his boyfriend's grasp, scowled, glared, and then nodded.

"So, help me out a bit. If it were porn, you'd probably be eager to share, and I know you wouldn't cheat on me, even online. So, what is it? What is my Game King trying to keep secret from me, hm?"

He looked away, upset to have been caught. He really didn't want to tell his secret. He didn't think Seto would think highly of his new hobby, or of him, once he knew.

"Um…"

Seto softened his expression, but not his grip. "You can tell me anything, you know. And you'll have to, now, to get away." He stilled suddenly. "Yami. You aren't playing online games, are you?"

The former pharaoh's head flew up, eyes wide. "What? No! Seto, baby, you already said you know I wouldn't cheat on you! Its… nothing about you, its just stupid. Just some… writing thing…"

Seto's eyes widened briefly in that way he had when he knew he'd just made a good move. Yami's scowl returned.

"Writing… so, are you writing a novel? Short stories?" He paused, noticing the 'tell' on his rival's face at the last one. "Or maybe an autobiography? Oh, I know, you are starting on my biography. Very sweet, Yami," he stated seriously.

Yami's scowl deepened. "As if!"

Seto smiled; almost a real smile. He brought Yami's hands, bound in his own, up to his face, kissing the exposed knuckles. He separated one finger with his lips and drew it into his mouth, and pulled it slowly out. Yami's lips parted as he watched the other's mouth, for a moment forgetting everything except for the tongue against the pad of his middle finger.

"So, what are the short stories about? Can I read one?"

"What? Read… No! Um, I mean…

Another finger went in, was pulled out, and swiftly pushed back in. Yami could feel the suction in his belly and his toes, and his…

Once again Seto removed the finger from his mouth. "What are they about?"

"Its, oh, ah…" Another finger in. "…just fan fiction."

Seto pulled his mouth back with a soft pop. "Fan fiction? What is that?" He pushed their hands down, still holding tight, and ghosted his breath across Yami's neck.

"Just… just using the characters of a show or manga I like and writing stories about them." He looked into Seto's eyes as the brunette looked up. "Stupid, I know."

"But you enjoy it?"

He nodded in response.

"Then you'll need a laptop to write them on. I'll call tomorrow and have one delivered." Seto rained a few kisses on his boyfriend's jaw line. "Of course, you'll have to show me a story when the computer comes."

Yami opened his mouth to refuse, but thought better of it. Seto might forget. It was easier to agree now and hope he forgets. He instead leaned forward to touch his lips to Seto's. His hands were still bound in front of him; it was a reach. He was pulled forward and the kiss deepened.

Sitting back, Seto released Yami's wrists.

"So," he asked casually, "How is your game going?"

Yami pulled back and scowled, his arms crossed over his chest. "You know very well you won, you don't need me to say so," he growled.

"Are you sure I won? Seems to me you got what you wanted. And if you wait for me to finish with this account," Seto pulled him up to stand next to him, "you can get something else you want, too."

Yami's sullen look faded to blank as he thought that over. He looked back at Seto, letting his eyes travel the length of the brunette's body. Shrugging just perceptibly, he turned and walked to the door. "You're right, I did win. Don't take long, I'll be waiting… naked."

Seto watched as his lover retreated from the room. As long as everything with Yami was a game, every day with him was playtime.

:Game Over:

A/N: So, fan fiction of was the focus word here… Originally I wrote a whole conversation about Seto's derisive reaction. Why not use original characters and write his own stories, etc. The very idea of his boyfriend participating in something so plebian, blah, blah. But, it no longer fit after I wrote the rest. So, I submit that fan fiction was the impetus for the game, and therefore, still the focus of the story.

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Cake Potty

"Cake potty?" Yami asked incredulously.

"Yeh, its gonna be great! We'll pahk all the cahs in the field, open the kehg, and pahty all night!" Joey's cousin, 'Bahby' from 'Bahston' had cornered Yami in the hallway of the game shop, much to the former pharaoh's keen discomfort.

"Um, cake potty? That's supposed to be fun?" He really just wanted to get back to the living room and the protective presence of Yugi and his friends. Ra, he wished Seto had come.

"Fun? Well sure. Don't you guys pahty around heah?" Bobby looked quizzically at Yami, but reached for his hand anyway.

'Do we potty? Why would he ask that?' Yami avoided the grasping hand. Did this annoying American really think he could woo him by proposing a date to watch dozens of people eat cake and defecate in a field?

"I… have to go. Enjoy your visit." Yami turned toward the front door, not quite avoiding the clammy hand on his arm. He pulled free and was out the door before Bobby could mount a fresh assault.

/Aibou? I'm leaving, I'll call you tomorrow./ Yami quickly closed the mind link against protests. He just wanted to get home, scrub his arm raw, and hope Seto was in the mood to help him erase the images Bobby had brought to his mind.

End.