..Heheh... I was reading my almost – complete collection of Yugioh! Manga when I decided to hunt for some old manuscripts... and that's where this whole situation got out of control, and I remembered all of the puzzleshipping fantasies that I had/have/oh no. Or is this a puzzleshipping? It's sort of Yami, but a bit of Atem in there too...
Anyway. Without further hesitation or stalling, let me introduce my brain on fandom drugs.
"H-hey, back up. You want... me... to go and talk to Atemu-san?" Yugi sweated nervously under the looks of the student council members, his short straw clenched tightly in his fist. He was shaking, trying to make himself seem smaller, more insignificant than before. As if that was even possible; at 5'0, he was one of the shortest in the year. Looking at the pitiless faces around him, he gulped. "Are you sure that's... uh, a good idea?"
"You drew the shortest straw, Moutou-san. You have to." Honda shrugged, but his look softened as the small, strange-haired boy quailed. "I'm sorry, Yug', but we can't retake the test. You lost, fair and square."
"B-but," Yugi sought for words, bravely fighting the terror that threatened to engulf him. "Do I really have to go to his house to deliver this? Why can't I just, you know, slip it into his desk or something?"
"It's confidential information that only the school and Atemu-san himself must know about." Ushio glowered at Yugi. "Putting it into his desk would place both Atemu-san and the school at risk."
Yugi closed his eyes in defeat and sagged, just as Honda put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Cheer up, Yugi. Jou and I will get you a hamburger after this is over."
Yami Atemu!
A name that struck awe and fear into the hearts of all who came across him, the King of Games and reputed shadow leader of the elite gang, the Dark Magicians.
Yami Atemu!
Women swooned when he walked past, and everyone else avoided his eyes, not daring to get his attention for fear of the repercussions it would bring – because if Yami was interested in you, then you would disappear without a trace for a few weeks, and then suddenly turn up in hospital, delirious.
Yami Atemu!
Handsome, proud, ruthless, the King could take what he wanted, do what he wanted, be who he wanted. Along with his merciless brothers Mariku Ishtar and Akefia Bakura Touzoukou, he could wreak havoc with a word, a gesture, a nod.
He was strong. Dark. Unstoppable.
Unfortunately, he was also the biggest crush that Yugi had ever had the misfortune to experience.
As Yugi trudged through the rain towards Atemu-san's home, he mused gloomily on the unfairness of it all.
It had started out as an observation.
Yugi would glance up from whatever he was doing to the right-hand wall, diagonally in front of him, to try and figure out the young man as he lounged in his chair, idly talking to his subordinates. The way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he acted like a king, a ruler of all he surveyed, fascinated the younger boy, as he stole a peek at this bronze-skinned Adonis only a few metres away.
Until one day he looked up, and Yami caught his gaze and smiled at him.
Those crimson eyes glittered knowingly, and Yugi, caught like a rabbit in headlights, froze.
Shit.
He ripped his eyes away, but not quickly enough to show that this wasn't a regular occurrence, and Yami's chair scraped back along the floor so that he could saunter over to Yugi's desk –
"Ah!" Yugi cursed, gritting his teeth as another car splashed him with freezing, muddy water. He stumbled onwards, teeth chattering, his thin raincoat soaked through ages ago.
Almost at Atemu-san's house. Somehow that froze him more than the water did.
"You're Moutou Yugi-kun, aren't you?"
Yugi jerked slightly, a blush rising to cover his already-red cheeks. His eyes flicked upwards, stuttering slightly in reply. "Y-yes."
His hands trembled as he continued to fold the origami model, but he had to bite his lip to stop the gasp when the tanned hand placed itself on his desk, its owner leaning in. He could smell the cinnamon-rose-musk scent of the older boy, wild and untamed, and bit his lip even harder to stop the tell-tale shivers from working their way down his spine. The voice spoke again.
"What are you doing at the moment, Yugi-kun?"
"Origami." Saying that made Yugi feel better, working his hands to create something special, strong enough to add, "It's a hummingbird. I always get stuck at a certain point, so I want to see if I can get past it."
He continued to work in silence for a little bit more, wishing for his unwanted attention to go away. Then came the difficult fold, and –
"Oh," he sighed, as it went wrong. Again. Huffing, he went to unfold it, but the other hand took it from his suddenly-nerveless fingers, deftly moving the folds back into place, inspecting it critically. Yugi's heart palpitated until he felt as though he was going to faint.
"Hmm, I can see where you're having trouble. But look, if you pull here and fold here at the same time – The beak curved out, and the hummingbird sat before him, complete – "Then there, your troubles should end. See?"
"Yes." Yugi took his little hummingbird back, turning it in his hands. He felt hurt that someone else had solved the puzzle that had frustrated him for long hours, and ashamed that he felt hurt. He managed to move his dry lips enough to say, "Thank you."
Now go away, he prayed. Leave me alone, for Kami's sake.
"No problem. I've never seen someone attempt to fold a hummingbird before. It's an ... interesting design." Silence for a heatbeat. "Oh, and Yugi-kun?"
"Hmm?" Yugi glanced up into Yami's face, immediately tensing up in fear. Atemu-san smiled, but it didn't quite relay the same to his eyes.
"If you ever need help with another difficult fold, just ask. I'd be honoured to help you."
Yugi hadn't been able to do anything other than nod, scared to death of what he'd seen in those blood-red eyes, and the hidden, darker meaning behind Yami's words.
Another car sped past, drenching him even more – if that was even possible, because he was wetter than the clouds were with the rain. It almost made him glad to reach his destination. Almost.
Apprehension and fear lurched in his stomach. His whole body shook, not from the cold. He could see lights behind the curtains and hear the sound of a TV through the unlatched window.
Maybe he's not here. Maybe this is all a dream, and I'll wake up in my bed at home. Try as he might, Yugi couldn't convince himself. He shook his head, reached for the doorbell and...
Ding-dong!
Nothing happened for a minute. Then voices, a shadow moving towards the door, and –
Yugi stepped back hurriedly as the door swung open, revealing none other than...
Mariku.
Tall, muscular, hair as crazy as his mood swings. Nicknamed "The Gravekeeper" because it was said that he'd be the one to throw the first fist of earth over your coffin. Avoided by everyone who had the luxury of not crossing his path, and treated like a ticking bomb by his minions, this psychotic man could keep you alive for months on end in a never-ending agony and would enjoy every moment of it... so it was rumoured. Nobody alive could tell you for sure.
Pinprick pupils glared at him from the doorway. Against the welcoming light, he loomed. A lip twitched into a snarl, framing a question, growling. "Whaddaya want, boy?"
"I – uh – I –is-" Yugi stammered, unconsciously backing away. Run! His instincts screamed at him. Run away before you get killed!
"I asked you why you're here." Yugi yelped as a fist bunched in his soaked jacket, lifting him off the ground by his front so that Mariku could shove his face into the smaller boy's. An evil grin flashed sharp canines at him, making the veins on his face pop even more. "If you don't have a reason, then-"
"A-Atemu-san! I was sent to give something to Atemu-san!" Flinching, Yugi's mouth finally found its words. "From the school, they said it's important! I have to give it to him, I swear, that's the truth!"
"Keh!" The ground cracked his skull, Mariku's toss being none too gentle. Turning back to face indoors, the tormentor roared, "Yami! Some runt's here to see you." He glanced down at Yugi, pushing himself up off the ground. "I suppose you'd better come in, runt. Touch anything, and I'll kill you."
"Y-yes sir." Yugi scrambled up and darted inside, clutching his bag. Mariku snorted, derisive.
It was dry, at least. Water dripped onto the wooden floor as Yugi bent down to remove his shoes, gasping when Mariku shoved him, sent him sprawling. "No time for that, runt. Get up."
"Y-yes sir," he whispered, pushing his freezing, achingly cold bones back into a standing position. Another gasp left him as the threatening shadow behind him grabbed his arm and frogmarched him in the direction of the nearest door – the same door that housed the tv. Yugi's heart squeezed itself inside of his chest.
I wish I'd never allowed myself to be talked into this. He could hear the soft murmur of voices and the occasional laugh coming from that door. I wish I was at home...
His wish wasn't granted. Mariku reached past him and slammed the door open, revealing an opulent room scattered with Persian rugs, deep chairs, mahogany dressers holding mirrors, lamps, vases...
And a large leather sofa, containing the other two leaders of the Magicians, who were sprawled over it like panthers, watching the flatscreen plasma tv as it flashed news bulletins into the shadowy room –
"And now, is Domino under attack from gangland warfare? Research conducted shows that the largest cause of the mysterious disappearances happening all over the city are fights breaking out between the largest gangs..."
"Heh. Fools," commented the one closest to the television. Pale as death, his white hair was shaggy and spiky, tumbling over his narrow shoulders like an avalanche. His rust-coloured eyes narrowed at the presenter on the screen while he tossed the dagger in his left hand idly. "As if we would be so petty."
Akefia Bakura Touzoukou – the Wraith. A renowned sadist, ladies' man and cold – blooded killer. It was said that the only way you'd know if he was on you trail would be the shadows lengthening in front of you before you died. It was also said that he was a vampire, and drank the blood of the people he assassinated to make up for the lust in his icy heart.
He sure has the teeth for it...
"Yes, well, the media never has truly come under our sway," Yami's bare arms shone in the lamplight as he shifted position, turning to face the door – and the miserable-looking boy under Mariku's arm.
Crimson met amethyst. Both widened, and Yugi jerked, unable to look away. But wait. Was Yami... shocked? If he was, then he certainly composed himself quickly enough. He slid off the sofa and prowled towards them, not taking his eyes away for an instant. Yugi cringed.
Oh Kami oh Kami oh Kami please help me...
"Didn't you hear me call you? The runt's been here for five minutes already." Yami didn't look up as Mariku started berating him. "Next time I might as well just chop off their heads and throw them at you to catch your attention, your Majesty."
"If I'd known it was this one my hearing would have been better." He stopped in front of Yugi, reaching out to catch one of his dripping bangs. His gaze burned into Yugi's soul, paralysing him so that he couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. "I'll deal with him," he said softly, releasing the soaking hair to catch the wet sleeve of the terrified boy's coat. "You can depend on it."
A chuckle broke free from the crazed one. Yugi watched as he slipped in past his new captor and glanced back over his shoulder with a lazy grin that was somehow worse than his snarl. "Bakura and I will stay down here then for a little while, eh? Have fun with him, Yami."
"I will," Yami replied. The younger teen was tugged out of the room, door shutting in front of him. Yami stared thoughtfully at him for a little longer before breaking the contact. He walked past Yugi, to the bottom of a flight of stairs. "This way, Yugi-kun."
Freed from his paralysis, Yugi's thoughts whirred. Upstairs was normally where bedrooms were. To get out of here as quickly as possible required that he stay downstairs. Also, the look in Yami's eyes had scared him so, so much more than anything else that had happened that day. Conclusion: Downstairs was good. Upstairs was bad. "A-Atemu-san!" he called out, and clutched his satchel even more tightly than before, numb with fright. "I can just give you the document here, without going upstairs... can't I?" he added, nervously. Yami glanced over his shoulder, flashing him a smile.
"I wouldn't want anyone to overhear us. Besides," his gaze travelled down Yugi's dishevelled, soaked form, making his insides squeeze before sliding back to his eyes – "We can get you out of those wet clothes and into something far more comfortable that way."
"B-but-" he tried to say, as his captor – oops, sorry, host – ascended. Yami held up a hand, not bothering to look back.
"You can thank me later," he threw back, and disappeared from view. The teen thought of just dropping the envelope on the floor and legging it, but then Yami appeared halfway down again and looked at him. "Yugi-kun."
Ah! His heart already on "Heart attack" mode, it could only pump out of sequence as Yugi gloomily began to go upstairs, hoping that it wouldn't take long and that he could go back home soon.
Yeah, right.
Yami's room was full of wealth.
Velvet wall hangings cascaded down to the floor, occupying the room's interior. They hid the door that Yugi was ushered through under a sea of burgundy. On the floor, an inches-thick rose-patterned carpet stretched from corner to corner, invisible only under the large, dark wardrobe that took up the far right wall. To the left, a wingback armchair was positioned, facing the door, beside a crackling fire that had burned down to sullen embers. A small round spindle-legged table , in arm's easy reach of the chair, held a book and a crystal tumbler, one with a bookmark carefully tucked into the pages, the other half-full of an amber liquid. But the room's main feature was the bed. Super king sized, four-poster, draped in silken sheets and a thick, strokable eiderdown, it drew the eye towards it like a magnet.
Right now, though, Yami was headed for the armchair. He sat down, resting his elbows on the arms and steepling his fingers, looking over them at the nervous boy in front of him. Yugi gulped, staring fixedly at the tip of Yami's shoe.
"Now then, Yugi-kun, tell me who sent you and what brings you here." Suddenly, the tanned youth reached down and threw another log onto the fire with a crash, scattering burning embers up the chimney. Yugi jumped at the sudden noise, his eye inadvertently drawn up, only to be caught in Yami's. His host smiled. "Don't be shy, now."
Blushing furiously, Yugi ripped his gaze away. He dropped his bag on the floor and knelt down beside it, opening it and riffling through its contents until he found the letter. "The school chose me to give you this, Atemu-san." He got up and, bowing, held it out to the older boy, waiting with bated breath. His job was almost done. Soon his torture would be over.
Yami made an interested noise in the back of his throat and reached out for the letter. Yugi squeezed his eyes shut. Yami's fingers brushed against the letter, but instead of taking it, he moved his hand up further, until it was covering both of Yugi's. A small whimper ripped its way past Yugi's voicebox, his whole being shaken to the core.
No, oh no, please no –
"You know, I've been watching you for a long time, Yugi-kun," the gang leader said, softly. His fingertips stroked over Yugi's slim, pale wrists, applying a soft squeeze to the closest one. It burned against the icy coldness of his damp skin."From the first day I found you peeking at me, I've been watching you. You're quite the shy one, aren't you? But you still talked to me, even though I could tell that you were frightened for your life."
Yugi couldn't say anything. His mind was blank, on fire. His heart felt as though it was having a party, and had invited along his stomach, his lungs and all his muscles to get drunk and do drugs. This wasn't supposed to happen!
"I've waited so long to get this close to you..." He ran his touch all the way along the edge of Yugi's trembling hands, drawing them towards himself. "If you had any idea of how much I wanted this, well..." he gave a small chuckle, "I suppose you're already scared enough as it is, so I won't go into the particulars just yet."
"Please take the letter," Yugi whispered hoarsely. Yami paused, as though surprised, but he resumed running his hand over Yugi's, his other hand pulling the letter away. As soon as it was gone, the pale boy tried to jerk his hands away, straightening up from his bow, but his captor's grip tightened around a wrist so that he couldn't pull it back. "Atemu-san – "
"Yugi," he mused, rolling the name around in his mouth. Tasting it. With an easy tug, he managed to unbalance the small boy, making him fall with a cry into his chest, his head colliding with a shoulder. Yami laughed, still holding the wrist out, but now wrapping his arm around the sodden figure, pulling Yugi's legs up over his knee so that his captive couldn't escape. Nuzzling the struggling boy's ear, his lips parted against it with a sultry kiss. "Why don't you play a little game with me?"
"Let me go," Yugi croaked, struggling against the arms that held him. "Atemu-san, let go! This is uncalled for!"
The voice hardened, mouth nipping at his ear. "Yami. I want you to call me Yami."
"I..." His treacherous crush said, There's no reason not to... and it's clear that he's infatuated with you...
Give in.
Yugi flailed for a reason as Yami began kissing along his temple, not minding the soaked bangs that blocked the cold skin. "I - Idon't know you w - well enough to call you that, Atemu-san!" A reason!
Yami tsked in annoyance, letting go of Yugi's wrist to grab his chin, forcing it up to meet his eyes. "Then why don't we play a game to get to know each other, Yugi? Hmm?" His narrowed eyes brightened, and a smile began to turn the corners of his mouth upwards again. "After all, you like games, don't you?"
"On the condition that we stand at least five metres apart when playing, then I'll play," Yugi managed to gasp out. He was starting to feel faint, dizzy. "We each have to tell the other a fact about ourselves before asking a question. No winners, no losers, just asking questions."
"My game, my rules. The loser is the person who cannot answer the question asked, or who asks a question without telling a fact to the other. If you win, I won't bother you any more tonight. But," Here Yami leaned in closer, until his mouth was almost touching Yugi's, "If I win, you give me...what I want."
"I'm five foot. What do... you want?" He choked out, painfully aware of Yami's breath ghosting over his mouth, his eyes almost closed. Yami laughed, tugging at Yugi's jaw, moving his mouth over to kiss his cheek.
"You, of course. Has the game started?" He released Yugi, but held onto his wrist as he got up, keeping their eyes locked. "I'll stand by the door. Wouldn't want you to get... lost."
He let go, and Yugi took seven steps back into the room, until he was pressed up against one of the posters of the bed. He wanted to sit down on it, but decided against it, because that might encourage his already sex-driven host. His dizziness was getting worse. "The game has started. I'm an only child. Why did you pick me?"
"Because you intrigue me more than anybody. I'm originally from Egypt." Yami lounged against the red velvet and smirked. "Don't you like me?"
Yugi's eyes bulged. He's asking me that!? "You scare me. A lot." Yami's faint smile didn't leave, nor did his gaze. It was starting to freak Yugi out. "I live with my jii-san above our game shop. How old are you?"
"Older than most people think." He changed position, smirk widening as Yugi flinched. "I come from a wealthy and privileged family. What's your full name?"
"Yugi Rida Moutou," Yugi answered promptly. It was one of the first things he had learned to say. Yami raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "I like hamburgers. Is it true that you're a gang leader?"
He shrugged. "So they say." Blood-coloured eyes burned into his own. "Leader of the King of Games... what a prophetic title." Yami took a sly step towards his guest, smirk widening. "I'm a proud man. Have you ever been kissed, Yugi-chan?"
"Chan!?" Yugi burst out, the flames of anger burning brightly in his heart. "I am not your – " He stopped. Yami's grin widened, and he sauntered towards the smaller boy, eyeing him up. "That was your plan all along? Get me so angry that I'd break the rules? Oh, come – uungh..."
I can't... see properly... So tired...
The floor was closer, and the carpet was so soft. Yugi recognised the signs as his host knelt beside him, drawing him up into his lap. "What's wrong, little one?" Teeth nipped at his throat. "So distraught at losing a game?"
His heart hurt. His head hurt. His muscles hurt. "Uuh..."
"Yugi? Yugi, what's wrong?" Yami was getting seriously upset now. Yugi not reacting to his touch the way he had before was a definite clue that something was up. Roughly, he laid the boy out on the edge of his bed, yanking his chin towards him. Tired eyes flickered open to meet his own furious orbs. "Speak!"
"I guess..." Yugi's mouth moved, and Yami leaned in closer, tilting his ear towards it. Yugi laughed, breathlessly. "Should have told you... The reason I needed to go home so ... badly..." His soft breath tickled his ear, and Yami's eyes widened as the diabetic breathed, "Is because I need to take my Insulin. I'm type... one."
"What!?" Yami jerked back and fell off the bed in his haste to run to the door. "I'll just – I'll – you stay!" he ordered, before darting under the hangings to open the door. Yugi heard a shout, and the hurried sound of Yami's voice to someone, before the door closed again.
"I've sent someone down to your house. They'll get the insulin and come back here as soon as they can." Yami's weight tilted the edge of the bed when he sat on it. A hand pushed Yugi's golden spiky fringe out of his face, cupping his cheek. "I'm not going to give up my time with you, don't worry, Yugi-chan. In fact..." His eyes travelled to Yugi's soaking clothes, and gleamed. "I think I may be able to stop you from catching a cold as well..."