Title: Not Enough

Author: Waxie

Rating: PG13 may go up

Pairing: S/YY

Spoilers: none

Warnings: angsty m-pregnancy, Yaoi!

Disclaimer: Yu-gi-oh isn't mine nor is No Basta by Franco DeVita.

Summary: Fatherhood can be a rather shocking ordeal. More so if it's unplanned. Seto will have to understand that there's more to fatherhood beyond the wallet and simultaneously keep a shaky marriage from sinking right from under him.

Status: 1?

Author's Notes: My first songfic. Lovely song, No Basta by Franco DeVita.

ooooooooooooooo

Chapter 1 of the Rest of My Life

No Basta

Traerlos al mundo porque es obligatorio

Porque son la base del matrimonio

O porque te equivocaste en la cuenta

(It's not enough

Bringing them to the world because it's obligatory

Because they're the base of matrimony

Or because you made a mistake in counting) (1)

I'm a man of commitment. Of promises. Of keeping my word. Of vows. And while such oaths can be heavy burdens, they keep my life in constant check. I knew where I was going. I knew where my life was heading. I knew what to expect in the end even before it appeared on the horizon.

But this.

This.

Up until now, I had enjoyed what I had going for me. But for once in my life, I needed an outlet from the life I chose for myself. I needed something that could keep me sane and at the same time require nothing in return. I didn't need more weight added to my shoulders; I didn't need another responsibility, another priority; I didn't need something to add to my "to-do list." I needed an escape and oh so badly.

Yami supplied me that freedom.

Having a secret relationship with Yami had been wild…while it lasted. It was unpredictable; he was unpredictable. Unlike the rest of my life, which was so planned, so orderly, and so in place, it was thrilling to have someone destroy that organization, even in the smallest, most insignificant way. Although I never told him, I loved to come into my office to find my once-tidy desk in a total state of chaos, the stapler in the wrong drawer, my laptop pushed to the side instead of dead center, my pen on the left side of the desk instead of on my right, my chair pushed out and facing the wrong direction. And the perpetrator for this heinous act?

Asleep.

Sprawled out on a couch I had placed against the nearest wall near my desk. It was the same couch I had placed there to keep an eye on Mokuba whilst he slept and waited for me to finish my work.

I always reprimanded him for messing with my desk. I couldn't let him know I loved it when he did it. I couldn't let him know that putting everything in its original position allowed some time for introspection of what I had become, of what I might still progress to. Yami allowed me that time. No one else did.

And after a nice hour of reflection, I'd wake him and then we'd make the beast with two backs. Yami was good in the sac. There was no way around it; I'm not going to be modest about it. I can't blame myself for always anticipating our next fuck, once you go romping Yami-style, you don't ever want to go back.

But regardless of what it may sound like.

Regardless.

I am not in love with him. I should feel bad for what I'm doing to him. I know it hurts him. I'm aware of his feelings for me, aware of how it must eat at him; aware that it was killing him little by little. He knows I won't love him back. He knows I can't.

Won't, can't, can't, won't. It doesn't even matter which it is.

Because the fact remains: I'm using him and yet he keeps coming back.

No, I keep letting him come back.

After all, I have always been in charge of matters that concern me. I've never allowed anyone to take control of the steering wheel. And yet again, this is ironic. Before my very eyes, I saw my life deviate towards something that had an ending I could not foretell. I'm not used to not being able to see my hands when they're right in front of me.

I deserve this.

What was it that willed me to extend what should have been a one-night stand into a daily reoccurrence?

But tonight was not the night to peruse over this new unstable relationship I had forced myself to create with Yami. It wasn't planned. It wasn't wanted. Hell, even Yami was still in shock about how it happened. A man couldn't have a child! I risked a look at Yami, who was in a deep slumber. Apparently that man could.

I have no choice.

It's only ethical, if not conventional. I may be a licentious bastard, but even I have a sense of right from wrong. I can raise his baby; I can support him, economically.

I lie down in my bed and stay precariously close to the corner. I'm not used to sharing my bed. I'm unable to find a comfortable spot and curse when I feel Yami snuggle up against me. I lay still; this was actually rather comfortable. I just hope Mokuba doesn't find us like this. Not like it'll matter. Tomorrow, he'll know.

They'll all know.

And they'll know because of this.

This.

ooooooooooooooo

(1) This is a rather difficult line to translate. There is a very faulty method of predicting the days a woman can have sexual relations by knowing when her menstruation is coming and leaving. It involves counting the days and, quite frankly, guessing. Hope this helps explain that line.