Chapter 5: Men Behaving Badly

Five fingers, pale and delicate in the moonlight, crept slowly up his thigh. Another's naked body moved against his own, slick sweat sliding between them, raising his body temperature, driving him wild. His back arched, granting his dream lover greater access to his body and all its sensitive parts. Yami twisted his fingers in chestnut locks, pulling those moist, boyish lips closer to his own.

Part of him knew it was a dream; most of him didn't care. He needed to taste those lips, he needed to feel loved, he needed to feel 'free'. He used his tongue to deepen their kiss, exploring every crevice in the now familiar mouth of his dream lover. He almost lived to dream now; waking hours were silent, cold and miserable. Kaiba had become tight-lipped - or was it Yami who had stopped speaking first? Though they were probably as close as they ever would be, they barely talked, and even more rarely laughed.

He leant in for another kiss, his mouth tingling. He knew his dream lover was Kaiba. He also knew that his dreams could never be a reality. Making love in his dreams was bittersweet and surreal; it was the only thing that kept him sane. Perhaps he was insane to think that way? He pushed his body against Kaiba's and wrapped his legs around his lover's waist.

There was a sharp, metallic clang, and Yami snapped his head around, peering outside of his cell. When he turned back, his lover was gone. "No..." he whispered. Reality came crashing upon him in waves; his dank cell, his suffering body, his helplessness, all painfully brought into relief. "Come back. I need you."

He could feel tears stinging in his eyes, and a moan escaped his lips.

"Yami?" A silky voice from behind. How could Kaiba's voice remain so... so normal after all this time? A small, lonely drop of water escaped Yami's eyes and trickled down his cheek. He couldn't stand it anymore. He had survived three millennia for what? To rot in a god-forsaken shit-hole until his body became weak, and finally died? A second tear leaked from the corner of his eye.

Kaiba called his name again. The way his name fell from those lips... Yami shuddered. "Don't cry."

A third tear, and a fourth. He didn't even try to stop them. There was a time (though it seemed millenia away) that he would never show such weakness in front of Kaiba. Now he couldn't care less. Months of darkness and depression pressed in on him; his very soul cowering, exposed and bloodied. And so he cried, his arms wrapped around his too-thin torso, silent sobs wracking his sick, frail and malnourished body.

"Yami..." Kaiba's voice was almost condescending, so much like Kaiba the rival, Kaiba the opponent. Kaiba, the only man between Yami and his destiny. After months of living and sleeping in the same three foot space, was he still no more than a rival? Yami wiped his cheeks with his wrist. "Men don't cry."

Yami barked a laugh, dripping with bitterness, and stood facing Kaiba. "Men don't cry, eh? So what do men do, Kaiba, when all hope is lost? What do men do as they watch their life slip away from them each day, and what do they do as they see death creep closer each night? Look at yourself. You are wasting away. You haven't bathed in months. You sleep in your own faeces. You have no hope. You are dying. We are going to die here!" He was almost hysterical now, hissing at the shadow of a man before him. "So what do you do, as a man, Kaiba? Tell me!"

Silence stretched out before them, each second containing an eternity. Yami searched Kaiba's eyes, suddenly shocked at how lifeless they were. He lowered his own eyes, ashamed of his outburst.

"I'm sorry." It was barely a whisper. Yami looked up again, meeting Kaiba's unwavering gaze. He hadn't been expecting Kaiba to say anything, let alone apologise.

"Don't be."

A hand came up to wipe tears from Yami's face; only this time it was Seto's. Lips descended upon his own, sending an electric charge through his body. This wasn't a dream. He curled his arms around the taller man's neck, leaning in to the embrace. He felt arms drape around his waist. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, feel blood rushing to his cheeks. He could feel his strength returning with this one kiss of life.

The ghost of a smile graced his features as he clung to his prince, feeling more and more like Sleeping Beauty by the minute. Imprisoned by the wicked witch of government's greed and war-mongering, his mock-dead soul was being dragged back to the light by this confused, instinctive, pure embrace.

For the second time, the clang of metal on metal broke his kiss. Both men turned to face a group of three guards leering at them, opening the cell door. Kaiba and Yami dropped their hands from each other's bodies.

Terror rooted Yami to the spot, his heart frozen. The colour drained from his face. As the guards advanced, he braced himself for the first blow.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yeah. Short. Cliffhangery. Not that well written. But there.

Kind of disgusting in parts, but the reality is, this is war. I personally don't believe humanity has evolved much, that we can do this. But the evidence is there in the headlines, you know? is forcefully removed from soapbox

Oh well. It will all be over by the end of the next chapter... ... ...