Tendershipping. It's a big pile of fluff that is thought to be a fan fic. Occurred to me randomly while listening to MCR.

Enjoy (:

My Little Angel.

Ryou's POV.

Damnit! Damnit, damnit, damnit!

I had to stay back at school for an extra two hours to make up for some tests I missed out on and tutor another student, therefore I was unable to get home at the normal time I do.

Meaning Bakura had to go home on his own.

Meaning he'd be hungry at this time.

Meaning that I'd be lucky if my house was still standing.

"Please, Bakura, have some patience just today," I murmured as I ran, tripping many times along the way. Bakura and I were a couple, but I normally do the cooking since he has a short temper, which resulted in two new microwaves and a new stove, and once the kitchen filling with smoke.

Fortunately for him, I love the idiot, or he'd be living with Malik and Marik.

I reached home and let out a huge sigh of relief to still see it standing. I walked to the door, and went inside, and relaxed when I didn't smell the foul stench of smoke. But I did hear the sound of My Chemical Romance spilling from the speakers in the living room, and Bakura's rich voice singing along to the song currently playing.

Give me a shot to remember

And you can take all the pain away from me

A kiss and I will surrender

The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead.

I smiled to myself and simply stood there for a moment, enjoying the rare moment I could get to hear him sing; if I told him he had a good voice, he'd deny it and insist it was horrible, refusing to accept any other opinion on the matter. I decided it'd be rude to remain standing there, not saying hello to my partner, so I walked into the kitchen.

"Hello Bakura," I greeted cheerily. Instead of a reply or any acknowledgement whatsoever, I was pushed out into the living room by Bakura, his hands covered in flour and other things I'd think to use in baking something. Before I could get any other words out of my mouth, Bakura's lips were upon my own in a gentle kiss.

He pulled away seconds later, smiling softly at me. "Welcome home," then his expression hardened a good deal, "where were you, Ryou?" His arms crossed across his chest, expecting an explanation for my lateness without a call or notification.

"At school—I was making up some tests and tutoring another student," I answered, truthful. Bakura searched my expression for anything I may have left unspoken, but then he softened a great deal. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Okay; I was just worried, that's all. Well, go off and do your homework, I'm busy doing something," he avoided the question and tried shooing me away, but to no avail.

"What are you—"

He cut me off by gently pushing me in the direction of my room. "Nothing important; get your homework done. I have a surprise for you later," Bakura told me, then departing my room. I stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, then decided I might as well get my homework done and see what Bakura is up to later.

Bakura's POV.

Finally!

I sighed with relief and a triumphant smile came onto my lips; the creampuffs I spent all afternoon on were finally done. Ryou had just been working so hard at his schoolwork recently, so I thought making his favorite food would calm him down, and de-stress him. I don't like seeing him so stressed.

I set the tray of creampuffs on the stove, so they could cool, and decided to go ahead and get Ryou and show him what I managed to accomplish—without any involvement of the Shadow Realm, this time.

"Hey Ryou," I said, but then I immediately silenced myself when I saw the sight before me.

Ryou's textbooks were open, as were his notebooks and school bag, and papers covered his desk with a couple pens and pencils, but on top of most of it was Ryou himself, one of his many pencils still in his hand, his hair covering his face as he snored lightly, his body moving ever so slightly as he breathed in and out.

I couldn't help but smile warmly at this. I walked over to him and moved his hair from his face. I felt bad; he must've been tired, to fall asleep on his schoolwork—literally—like this; it was out of character for him. Thinking that the papers weren't a very comfortable thing to sleep on, I gently and slowly picked him up, and placed him on his bed, resting his head softly on his pillow. I grabbed a blanket from his closet, and covered him in it in case he got cold.

I leaned in and kissed his forehead. "Sleep well, my little angel," I whispered, before leaving his room, turning the light off on my way out.

The creampuffs can wait until tomorrow.