Hello, everyone! This little Tendershipping oneshot is for a very dear friend of mine, SangNoire, for inspiring me to write, for sharing her creativity with me, and for listening to my problems. Every. Single. Little. Problem. Here you go, sweetheart! Hope you enjoy! Rated T for some lime.

Ryou lay curled on his bed, listening to the soft, soothing sound of an acoustic guitar on his radio. He shifted to clutch his pillow closer, and winced. Bakura had hurt him again. The centuries-old thief certainly hadn't meant to, but with the otherworldly strength he possessed, it was almost inevitable. Ryou sighed as he thought back to the moment when Bakura told him what had caused him to become the creature he now was.

According to the thief, in ancient Egypt, there was a goddess called Sekmet, who was a warrior so fierce that she was given the head of a lion, and the desert winds were thought to be her breath. Her wrath and thirst for blood was so great, however, that Ra himself had to stop her. Bakura had smirked when he had heard Ryou's gasp of horror, but continued on with his story.

As the Thief King, before Zorc was created, he had prayed to Sekmet to grant him the power to defeat the Pharaoh. To the thief's great surprise and joy, she had answered him. She gave him the strength and cunning to go head to head against the great King, but it came with a price. Just as her thirst for blood had weakened her, so would Bakura forever depend on the blood of the living to sustain him. There had been no ancient word for what he had become; most villagers, when they saw him, referred to him as "the beast of Sekmet." Now, a word had been fashioned from the Romanian language.

Vampire.

Ryou shivered. It made sense that his yami should be a vampire. He certainly looked the part, with pale skin, dark eyes, and a lithe frame that belied his brutal strength. He hadn't known until after Duelist Kingdom, when Bakura had been so desperate for blood that he made Ryou cut his own hand and drink from it. After all, spending a week on an island filled with people who had their whereabouts accounted for as well as families and friends waiting for their safe return created little opportunities for the ancient vampire to feed.

When Ryou had heard that voice inside him telling him to pick up the knife, to run the blade along the inside of his hand, he knew that there was something else to his yami other than darkness, something infinitely more sinister. After he'd run water in his mouth for ten minutes and sucked on an entire tin full of mints to get the taste of blood out of his mouth, he had asked (well, demanded might have been closer to the truth) that Bakura tell him everything.

At first, the boy had rebelled against the idea that his yami was such a monster. He screamed, cried, threw things; he had even tried to attack Bakura with his bare hands. He had been shown that night just how deadly Bakura could be, if given the chance. The older man had moved so quickly that one second, Ryou was pulling back his fist and preparing to strike, and the next he was lying on his back, pressed to his mattress. Bakura had him pinned by the arms, his knees digging painfully into Ryou's thighs. He had grinned wickedly, and Ryou had seen with a jolt of fear just how sharp those white teeth really were. Bakura had laughed softly, and whispered in his ear, "This was merely a taste of what I can do. My powers are beyond your reckoning, little mortal. Beware, lest you cease to be on the beneficial side of my humor."

Since then, he had found himself accepting his yami's bloodthirsty nature. Bakura had assured him that he was a thief, but not a murderer. He rarely found it necessary to kill, and when he did, he made sure that the person would not be missed and thoroughly deserved to die; usually thieves or rapists that had somehow evaded capture. He did, however, enjoy tormenting his victims before feeding, usually leading them into a game of cat-and-mouse, or for his female victims, languid seduction. He found them easier to entice than men, but both genders satisfied his lusts wonderfully. He had tried to explain to Ryou how amusing it was to "play with one's food," but the boy had pressed his hands over his ears and refused to listen.

It was obvious to Ryou that Bakura found him attractive; he was constantly petting the boy, and when they were in the privacy of Ryou's apartment, Bakura refused to let him wander out of his sight. Ryou had been impatient one day when Bakura kept pulling the boy into his arms and trying to get him to lay down with him, and had asked him why he was doing this.

The man simply smirked and said, "My kind is highly sensitized, in order to hunt our victims more efficiently. You, little one, are a treat for the senses." He had suspended himself over the boy, looking down on him with hungry eyes the color of rubies. He pressed his nose to Ryou's cheek, inhaling slowly. His hand ever so slowly slipped under the boy's shirt and slid up his stomach, eliciting a small moan from Ryou's throat. He smirked. "That's four of the five senses. The shape of your innocent little body, your incomparable scent, the softness of your skin, and the music of your voice…" Ryou saw the tips of the sharpened canines as Bakura's smirk widened. "That leaves just one." Ryou had shivered when he realized what was missing. Taste.

Bakura had leaned forward until his lips were just an inch from Ryou's, his breath feathering lightly against the soft skin. "So? May I?"

Ryou's breath came in short gasps. "Are you going to bite me?"

"Only if you let me."

Ryou whimpered. "Please, don't."

"Why not? It doesn't hurt as bad as you think."

"Please, Bakura."

The older man sighed. "I do love hearing you plead with me." His fingers traced circles on Ryou's waist. "You have no idea how appealing it is to hear my name come from those lips." When Ryou moaned again, Bakura couldn't hold himself back any longer. He pressed his lips against the boy's, reveling in how soft and supple they were. Ryou let out a sharp noise of surprise, but didn't try to wriggle away or push Bakura off. In fact, those virgin lips began kissing him back. Bakura smirked into the kiss and nibbled softly with just the tips of his teeth against Ryou's full underlip. His hand slipped lower, and his traced one finger along the line of Ryou's waistband, feeling the skin quivering. Ryou gasped, and Bakura took that opportunity to slip his tongue into the smaller mouth. Obviously, Ryou had never been kissed quite this aggressively, and he mewled softly against the alien sensation. Bakura only explored his mouth more vigorously, and eventually the boy became used to it, and even began to move his own tongue against the foreign one.

They hadn't gone beyond the kiss that night, but in nights since, Bakura had convinced the younger boy to let him indulge in his sense of taste. The next time Bakura had Ryou pinned down, he had stared at him with blazing eyes and murmured, "Do you trust me?" Ryou had shaken his head, and the vampire chuckled darkly. "What a pity. I suppose I'm going to have to make you trust me."

He lowered his head to the boy's neck, and instantly Ryou began bucking and pushing, trying to get himself away from those sharp, feral teeth. Bakura had held him in place and gently brushed his lips against the point where Ryou's pulse fluttered like a frightened bird. He groaned against the hot beating of blood beneath the thin veil of easily-broken skin, but restrained himself. He covered Ryou's throat in soft kisses before sucking gently on his pulse-point. The boy had moaned so seductively, and it had taken all that remained of Bakura's will not to bite down and take what he so desperately wanted. To distance himself from the vulnerable neck, he kissed his way to Ryou's collarbone, unbuttoning his shirt a little to get at more of the pale, creamy skin. He let his tongue dart out and taste the salty-sweetness of the boy, and Ryou had squirmed so delightfully against him.

He had kissed Ryou several times, and the boy had even gone so far as to let Bakura remove his shirt completely, letting him taste the expanse of his chest and stomach. Ryou would never forget the sensation that shot through him the first time he felt that damned tongue tease one of his nipples. He had almost screamed, but gods, it had felt so…good. The pleasure that Bakura was giving in him just that small area seemed unreal. His breathing became irregular, and Bakura had lifted his head, smirking. "My goodness, landlord. Your heartbeat just skyrocketed. Are you sure you're alright?" His sarcasm was marred by the hunger in his eyes, and he returned his attentions to the boy's nipple, licking none-too-gently at it, making the boy writhe and moan quite loudly.

However, sometimes Bakura's self-control wasn't always so reliable. Three months after that first kiss, Ryou's chest was littered with bruises, as well as his stomach and arms. His fair skin was constantly covered in them from times when Bakura had held him just a little too tightly. And now, as he curled up slowly on his bed, he was nursing a particularly vicious one that covered most of his left side. He knew that Bakura didn't intentionally hurt him, as evidenced by the show of remorse that always followed. He wasn't sure that the vampire felt guilty, exactly, for doing these things, but he certainly became angry with himself, cursing himself for his lack of control. It gave the boy small comfort to know that Bakura had never once blamed him for the way the vampire reacted to him. After all, Bakura had once reasoned to him, it's not like you can help being so delicately irresistible.

The door to Ryou's bedroom creaked open, and Bakura slipped inside, turning off the light as he came. Electric lights didn't hurt him, but they did bother his sensitive eyes. Ryou felt the bed shift and buckle as Bakura slid in beside him, wrapping his cool arms around the boy. Ryou sighed and wiggled onto his other side so he could nuzzle his face into Bakura's chest. The vampire didn't particularly like being cuddled, but he enjoyed Ryou's warmth and softness too much to complain. He pressed his lips to the boy's temple. "Ryou, I'm-"

"Don't say it."

He sighed, his breath ruffling the boy's dove-white hair. "Why won't you let me apologize?"

"One, it's not in your nature. Two, you have nothing to apologize for."

Two slender fingers slipped under Ryou's chin and lifted his face up to meet burning red eyes. "How can you say that I have nothing to apologize for? I've hurt you, Ryou. I can see the pain in your eyes."

"It was an accident."

A cool hand slipped under the boy's shirt, fingers lightly tracing the outline of the dark bruise. "That doesn't make it any less brutal."

"You can't really help it."

Bakura sighed, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of Ryou's neck. "You understand me too well, little mortal." He kissed Ryou's forehead, the tip of his nose, then found his way to the boy's lips. He sighed in relief when Ryou began kissing him back. Slowly, gently, he eased the boy onto his back, straddling his hips and bracing himself over him with a hand on either side of his head. They kissed for a solid minute, before Bakura broke away with a low growl. Ryou licked his lips and frowned, sitting up a little.

"Bakura? Did I do something wrong?"

The older man's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I can't stand it anymore, Ryou. The way your heart speeds up when I touch you, the way your pulse flutters when I kiss you…do you do it to torment me?"

"That's not fair. You know I can't help that."

Bakura sighed. "I know, little one. It's just so frustrating." Something hard and bright entered his burgundy eyes, and he leaned over Ryou again, his expression unreadable. "Please, Ryou. I want you. I want to taste you completely. Please don't deny me."

Ryou's eyes widened. This vampire, this creature of darkness, this earthbound demon…was begging. Bakura must have realized how weak he sounded, and wrenched himself up with a snarl. "Forget it."

Suddenly, he felt a small, soft hand on his arm. He looked back at Ryou, whose brown eyes were wide not with fear, but with pleading. "I know what you want, Bakura, what you've always wanted. Take it."

The older man smiled, the expression genuine for once, and settled himself back down over Ryou. "Are you sure, landlord? After all, if you give me one taste," his smile became a half-smirk that he knew Ryou found irresistible. "I will always crave more."

"How would that be any different from now?" Bakura nodded, indicating that Ryou was right, and the boy bit his lip. "How…how badly will it hurt?"

"Very little. There are four places I have easy access to, all with different degrees of intimacy. Your wrist," he pressed his lips to Ryou's sensitive inner wrist, "your throat," he brushed a line down the side of Ryou's neck, "over your heart," he pressed a hand over Ryou's chest, "or your inner thigh." He gave the boy a wicked smile and curved his hand around the boy's left inner thigh, rubbing gently and chuckling softly when he heard Ryou gasp. "The choice is yours, little one. The more intimate the bite, the more pain, and ultimately, pleasure you'll feel."

Ryou could barely consider the choices through the rising heat that crept over his skin, staining his cheeks with a rather pretty blush. He swallowed, then whispered, "The throat, please."

"How traditional. Very well, little one. Relax, take a deep breath. The pain won't last long." Bakura lowered himself over the boy, favoring his left side, not wanting to inflict any necessary pain on him. After all, this came as a personal sacrifice from the boy. While Bakura couldn't kill him, he could very seriously injure him. He was loathe to put him in that kind of danger, but he was fairly certain he could stop himself before he severely damaged Ryou. Millennia of practice had made his self-control almost flawless.

"Trust me," he purred, his breath ruffling a few strands of white hair.

He feathered kisses over Ryou's forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and nose before kissing him sweetly on the lips, not hard or intrusive as usual. He wanted to express his thanks that the boy was allowing him this moment to taste the one thing he had craved so strongly. Slowly, he made his way down to Ryou's throat, knowing from his previous explorations where the boy's most sensitive spot was. He kissed it softly, stroked it gently with his tongue, then let the tips of his sharp teeth press against it, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough so that Ryou knew they were there.

The boy whimpered as Bakura used his fangs to trace circles on his skin, wanting the vampire to stop this torture, to just bite and be done with it. As if sensing his thoughts, Bakura suddenly bit down, his teeth piercing skin and muscle with a wet sound he'd always found strangely erotic. Ryou's blood burst into his mouth, sweeter than he'd anticipated, with just the faintest hint of spice. It was addicting, so intoxicating, an essence that was both poison and antidote. He found himself pressing the boy into the mattress, his teeth firmly clamped on his throat, his hands holding his arms, no doubt leaving more bruises.

Ryou yelped when he felt those teeth sink into his neck, but the pain soon faded and gave way to a sensation he'd rarely experienced; pure, sensual pleasure. He'd felt it only once or twice before, and only at Bakura's hands, but this was on a level he was unfamiliar with, something that he was sure people only deep within the throes of passion actually felt. So the movies he'd seen where female victims looked as though they enjoyed being bitten were true. This was why so many people found vampires to be so seductive. Everything was true, and gods help him, he was glad. This was indescribable and without equal. If Ryou lived to be one hundred, he would always remember how this moment felt.

Soon, he began to grow light-headed and dizzy. He assumed it was from blood-loss, and he pushed weakly against Bakura's shoulders. "Stop. Please."

He didn't stop. He didn't think he could.

Ryou began to feel frightened. "Bakura! Please, stop!"

Finally, he felt teeth retract from his throat, then the firm stroke of a tongue to seal the punctures. The vampire sat up, his lips stained a deep ruby red. One crimson thread unraveled from the corner of his mouth as he looked down at his hikari, whose eyes were half-lidded and whose body was completely limp. Bakura couldn't help but give the boy one quick kiss, leaving a slight smudge of red on those soft lips. Seeing blood on Ryou's mouth, even if it was his own, sent an odd combination of excitement and dread through the older man. Maybe someday, he would give Ryou the choice to join him, but only if Ryou wanted it. He would not force this walking damnation on someone so innocent.

Bakura settled himself back down, pulling up Ryou's shirt to get a good look at the bruise on his side. It was a mixture of purple, blue, and dark grey, and he kissed it, giving the boy a completely non-verbal apology, since he would accept no other. This entire time, Ryou had not made a single sound or moved at all. He was simply too weak. Only when Bakura laid down and pulled the boy against him did Ryou utter a soft sigh. The last words he heard before drifting to sleep were whispered softly in his ear.

"Thank you, my little landlord."

And there you have it! Hope you enjoyed it, and especially you, SangNoire! Sorry it took me forever to post. *huggles*