Author's Note: Before we begin, I would first of all like to thank all of my readers that are not yaoi fans, and yet still appreciate my story and leave me lovely reviews. I really appreciate you being so open-minded.

And of course, to all my readers that are fans of yaoi, thank you too for reading. Wow, this is the longest story I've written so far, I think by sheer word-count it tops even "Setup." Anyway, I'll stop jabbering now and let you continue with the chapter.

Spirit Lovers

x.x.x

The room was dark, the door slightly opened when Seto arrived. Seto stood outside for several minutes, his hand resting on the doorknob. At that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to run back down the hall the way he had come, run back to his own room and lock the door, to lay in the darkness and listen to the silence broken only by the soft murmurs Mokuba made in his sleep. Seto wanted to pretend he had never, ever laid eyes on Bakura.

Of course, that was complete wishful thinking. Seto had been given a direct order to come here tonight, and no matter how his heart hammered or his mind yelled at him to run, he could not move from this spot. It took every ounce of his will to keep from stepping inside, even for a moment. Even then, his will eventually crumbled in the face of the compelling urge place on his soul, and with a deep breath, Seto pushed the door open and stepped inside.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. At first he could only make out shadowy shapes of the furniture, partially lit from the moonlight spilling in through the window. As he walked in farther he looked around, searching the darkness for Bakura. Behind him, the door creaked closed, and he heard the lock click moments before he felt someone's warm breath on the back of his neck.

"So you did come, after all," Bakura whispered, his breath tickling Seto's ear as he spoke.

"You didn't give me much of a choice," Seto said, striving to sound calm and bored, belying how tense he was.

Bakura chuckled, absently brushing Seto's hair away and pressing a soft kiss to his nape. How amusing that such a simple touch could make Seto shudder so! "No," Bakura murmured, "I suppose I didn't give you much of a choice. Given the chance, would you run from me like a frightened animal?"

Damn it, yes, he did want to run, but he would not give Bakura the satisfaction of saying so of his own will. Whatever Bakura wanted from him, he would have to command him to get it. Seto was not going to offer him anything voluntarily.

"You're not afraid of me, are you, Seto?" Bakura asked.

"No," Seto murmured, his own voice sounding strangely hoarse in the dark. "I just don't like you."

"Really now," Bakura murmured, sounding amused. "What's not to like about me?"

"Would you like the list, or was that a rhetorical question?" This was okay. If Seto just kept Bakura talking, maybe Bakura would forget about whatever it was he had planned…

"It's rather a shame that you don't like me…" Bakura commented casually, pressing his thumb against a particularly tense muscle in Seto's shoulder, rubbing in small circles until it began to unknot. "Because I find I am rather fond of you. Never met a mortal quite like you before." He paused when he realized the lie of that statement; he had known a mortal like Seto before. But that had been five thousand years before, and the High Priest was dead now, and so he dismissed the absent thought.

"You don't like me," Seto stated, unwillingly beginning to relax as Bakura worked out the tension in his shoulders. "You just like being able to order me around."

"Are you this disagreeable with everyone, Seto?" Bakura asked. "Alright, yes, if you wish for honesty here, I do rather enjoy that part. But obeying me doesn't have to be such a hardship, you know."

"Are you telling me I ought to enjoy having you boss me around?"

"No, I'm telling you to take your shirt off."

Immediately obedient, Seto began pulling the offending garment off. The last time Bakura had told him to do this, he'd been interested in cutting his name into Seto's skin. Seto didn't think that's what Bakura had in mind this time. He wasn't sure which was worse.

"You're always so tense," Bakura noted, eyeing the smooth skin of Seto's back, the clean line of his spine interrupted at the end by the waistline of Seto's jeans. Seto really did have a nice bottom, Bakura decided. He was glad he'd opted to carve up Seto's chest rather than that feature. "You really ought to relax every now and again."

"For some reason, I don't find your presence very relaxing."

Bakura frowned. Try to be nice to a mortal and they don't even appreciate it. It was tempting to forget all about what that damned dragon told him, settle for owning Seto's body and soul and to hell with how Seto felt about it. But that damned dragon had teased him, flaunted a treasure in front of his face and then told him he could never have it. Bakura hadn't even realized he'd wanted it until the dragon had mentioned it, but now he planned to have it. At any cost.

Seto Nishimura was going to love him whether he liked it or not.

And, Bakura added to himself thoughtfully, it didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun along the way, and still gain all the other treasures he had originally come for.

Bakura gave Seto a gentle push in the direction of the bed. "Lay down."

Seto tried to disobey, really tried, but all the powers that be compelled him forward. Though originally intending to lie on his back, Seto was forced to turn onto his stomach by another of Bakura's casual commands. Seto used one of the pillows to cushion the pressure on the wounds on his chest.

Bakura had to admit, it was fun having Seto as his slave. He wondered if he could keep him forever. Usually he preferred being by himself, without even the presence of the quivering little wimp whose form he had taken as his host. But it might be… satisfying to keep Seto around.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Bakura said, crouching beside Seto on the bed. "You don't have to be so scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You are," Bakura contradicted, smoothing his hands over the smooth planes of Seto's back. "That's why you're so tense. But I can fix that."

Seto said nothing to that, instead distracted by the feel of Bakura's hands. Bakura began at Seto's neck, his hands working loose the knots of tense muscle with as much focused determination as he did with anything else he did. Seto did his very best to remain tense and unapproachable despite Bakura's ministrations, but as Bakura worked down to the shoulders, Seto made a helpless little noise and began to relax into the mattress. And, he found, it was hard to remain scared of someone when they were being so gentle.

"What do you want from me?" Seto finally demanded, trying desperately to recall why he hated Bakura, trying hard to think of anything through the haze of languorousness Bakura's hands were evoking.

"Want? I want you to relax. That's not so very hard, is it?" Bakura ran his fingertip down the line of Seto's spine, delighting in the little shiver Seto gave in response. "You seem to be getting the hang of it."

It would have been easy to lose himself in this warm haze of feelings, it was almost a relief when the stinging of his wounds drew Seto's attention to them. Seto squirmed.

"What's wrong now?" Bakura demanded, frowning. And he'd thought he was doing so well…

"Hurts," Seto muttered, lifting up and lightly touching the bandage taped to his chest.

Oh, right. Bakura had forgotten writing his name on Seto earlier, that probably still stung. He was going to need to distract Seto from that…

"Here, roll over," Bakura said, moving back slightly to give Seto room to maneuver onto his back. "Better?"

Seto stared up at the darkened ceiling for a moment, before glancing at Bakura. "Yeah, better. Thanks." If he didn't think about it too much, he could ignore the pain in his chest. He wasn't sure he wanted to forget it, however. The pain was his reminder that Bakura was still a twisted, disturbed freak, no matter how nice of a backrub he gave.

Bakura frowned, lightly touching Seto's cheek and leaning in to get a better look at his face in the darkness. "You're tense again."

"I am not."

"You are. What the hell does it take to get you to relax?"

"Well, you could try giving me my soul back," Seto commented. "That would be a good start."

"Uh-huh. Nice try." Bakura absently traced his fingertip over the un-bandaged skin of Seto's chest. "I wish you wouldn't worry so much, I said I wouldn't hurt you."

"And that would make me feel a lot better if I believed in even the slightest amount that you could be trusted." Seto whapped Bakura's hand away, lifting himself to sit up and glowering at the fiend. "I haven't forgotten what you tried to do in that little duel of yours, or that you stole my brother's soul and gave it back only in exchange for mine, or that you take delight in carving your name in other people's flesh, namely mine. I hate to tell you this, but that doesn't inspire much trust in a person."

Bakura was silent a moment. "Would it change your mind if I said I was just misunderstood?"

"No."

"Didn't think so." Bakura huffed slightly, smiling wryly. "You don't give up anything without a fight, do you?"

Seto blinked, then shrugged slowly. "I guess not. Not if I can help it."

Bakura nodded, gently but firmly pressing Seto back onto the mattress. "Hate to say it, but the damned dragon was right. You are something of a delightful challenge."

Dragon? What the hell was Bakura talking about now? "What are you-" Seto never did find out what Bakura meant about the dragon, for suddenly Bakura was kissing him, and he promptly forgot the question.

Mortals, Bakura thought with amusement, are ridiculously easy to bewilder.

Then again, he remembered, the form he was currently inhabiting was mortal as well. And kissing Seto was… nice. And at last, at last, Seto was relaxing beneath him. It wasn't love, wasn't even trust, but it was a start. And that gave Bakura a rather heady sense of victory.

What does a damned Blue Eyes White Dragon know about anything, anyway? Bakura thought, trailing kisses down the line of Seto's throat, just to hear the way his breath caught. Seto is practically whimpering for me, and I can make him mine, ALL mine, right now…

Bakura's fingertips traced fluttery little patterns down Seto's chest, and Seto did nothing to stop, nothing to indicate he even wanted Bakura to stop. But when they ended their trek downward and began toying with the fastenings of Seto's jeans, Seto made a slight noise, catching Bakura's wrist and pulling it away.

"Don't," Seto whispered breathlessly, lifting his head to look at Bakura.

Bakura glowered back at him, but didn't try to pull his hand away from Seto's hold. "I can make you, you know."

"I know." Seto swallowed, laying his head back down and closing his eyes. "Please, don't."

Bakura blew his snowy white bangs out of his face, reluctantly conceding and laying down beside Seto. "Alright."

Seto let out a soft sigh that may have been relief, moving to sit up, but Bakura wrapped an arm around him and held him down.

"Stay here tonight," Bakura commanded softly.

"But-"

"I won't do anything to you," Bakura said. "You may not trust me, but it's true. Go to sleep."

It was a command, and Seto suddenly found he was very tired. It was suddenly far preferable to just curl up and sleep beside this fiend, rather than make his way through the ship's hallways trying to find his own room again.

Bakura listened for a few moments until Seto's breath evened out, watching him sleep. Finally he let out a soft huff, laying back and readying himself to sleep as well. "Goodnight, Seto."

Seto let out a faint, sleepy murmur, and Bakura fell asleep smiling.

x.x.x

Mokuba woke up in the darkness, trying to figure out what it was that woke him. He stared at the ceiling for a long while, listening to the soft whispers of the ocean. Finally he sat up, looking around the room. He was wide awake, he knew he'd not be able to get back to sleep for a while.

The moonlight through the window gave a silvery cast to the shadows. Something was… a little off about the room, at it took him a moment to realize what it was. Seto wasn't there.

"Seto?" Mokuba said, climbing out of bed to peer at the discarded sheets on the floor, where Seto had set up his makeshift bed. He padded across the room to check the bathroom; Seto wasn't there either. There was, however, a note taped to the mirror.

Mokuba, the note read, I couldn't sleep, so I went to the upper deck to look at the stars. I'll be back later. –Seto.

Mokuba smiled faintly; seemed everyone was having a bit of trouble sleeping tonight. He wandered back into the room, sitting down on the bed and staring out the window. Since he couldn't sleep either, maybe he ought to go up and watch the stars with Seto… After a moment's contemplation, Mokuba decided not to; after all the weird stuff that had happened, Seto might want some time to himself.

But Mokuba wasn't too interested in staying in the room by himself. He pulled his coat on over his pajamas, scribbled a note for Seto when he came back, and padded out into the hallway. The hallways were dimly lit, and after all the running around they'd done earlier, Mokuba kind of knew where he was going. Within a few minutes, he found himself standing in front of Yugi's door.

Hoping that Yugi wouldn't be too mad at him for waking him up, Mokuba finally knocked. "Yugi? Can I come in?"

Mokuba heard a few muffled sounds of movement inside, before Yami opened the door, looking concerned. "Mokuba? Is something wrong?"

"No! No," Mokuba hurried to assure him. "It's just… Seto went for a walk, and I didn't want to be by myself… I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Yami shook his head, smiling and allowing Mokuba inside. "I wasn't asleep."

"You either, huh?" Mokuba said. "Seems like nobody can sleep tonight. Did you have a bad dream?"

"No, I was… just thinking," Yami said, closing the door. "I'm afraid Yugi is asleep, if you came to see him. I'd really rather not wake him, he's had a long day."

"If I remember correctly, you've had a hard day also," Mokuba said, frowning at Yami. "Shouldn't you be asleep too? Seto says it hurts you to be out like this more than necessary."

Yami smiled. "Your concern is touching, but I'll be alright…"

"Nuh-uh," Mokuba said, grabbing Yami's arm and pulling him toward the bed. "You need to rest, and I'll make you if I have to."

Amused, Yami allowed Mokuba to pull him toward the bed. "Well, if you insist…" It was rather sweet of Mokuba to tend to him with his childish assertion. And it was something of a relief to climb back into bed and relax.

Mokuba smiled at having Yami comply, and then, on a whim, climbed into bed along with him, curling up against the spirit. Yami wrapped his arms around him, inexplicably pleased to have Mokuba's warm presence beside him.

"Thanks for letting me stay, Yami," Mokuba murmured.

"Thank you for coming," Yami murmured softly. "Goodnight, Mokuba."

"Goodnight, Yami."