A/N: Okay. I am writing this story a bit oddly. Though it is totally tendershipping, you could also say that this is Bakura's healing, from beginning (which includes the actual act) to end. I am trying my best to get the story across. I guess that means I have to have the genre under both romance and general, huh? Sorry. I am ranting. Just read and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Do you think if I killed Kazuki Takahashi, I would own Yugioh? Well, for now at least, I have no rights over the show, and anything else I might happen to mention in the story.

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Chapter 3

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"Kura!" His normally soft voice screamed. It was becoming rough and scratchy from the amount of noise it had made. His hands were clumsily climbing up and down my naked back. My skin tingled every time his touch was removed from me. Wrapping his leg lightly around the middle of my spine, he tried to prevent me from moving too far. His attempt failed, because I was still able to separate from him to bury myself in his hot, virgin entrance with enough force to hear his pleasured moaning.

I licked him, hungrily biting into him afterwards. Salt covered his sweet taste in my mouth, due to the newly forming sweat curving down his chin to fall to his neck. A vibration shot through him as my teeth gnawed on his skin until it turned a bubblegum pink. The fingers of one hand clung onto his hair, as if I would be ripped away from him if I were to let go. I would be, disconnected, from the purest part of me. My innocence. My ecstasy. My hikari.

Hmm. I guessed the drug made me a bit clingy. Must there always be some unexpected side effect? Honestly. But this wasn't as bad as some of the others. This one, Muzion, was it? This one was a rarity, one that isn't meant to mimic past narcotics. It was made to be a whole new experience, so the buyers don't get bored, I guess. Odd, since most customers don't care about the exact pit stops of a trip, just the ride itself.

This one seemed as if it reassigned the feeling I would usually get from deep within my body to the utmost layers of flesh and muscle. It probably just made my mind a little dense, as it should do, and my nerves more sensitive. But you know, I see no difference. When I moved inside the boy whose hair was in total disarray, yet still not knotted, I could feel where the muscles flexed from pain and pleasure.

I rocked into his hips purposely awkward, first falling down only to change direction to some obscure angle at the last second. I didn't go into him as far as I normally would, but I am sure he loved it anyway. The child bellowed my name, my whole name, throwing his head to the pillow. He brought his arms tighter around me, nails digging into my skin. His growing erection pressed against my stomach.

My chest rubbed up against him. I couldn't really feel the scars, but I knew they were there. They were on his back as well. Nowhere else. The boy hid them from everyone. Very well, I suppose, because I hadn't been investigated by anyone: a friend, a police officer, a concerned teacher, yet. There was a bandage applied to his lower back and to one side of his stomach from the last time I hit him.

The hand, which wasn't woven in the snow-white hair, gripped onto the younger male's thigh, cool to the touch. I tilted my head so his upper-right torso supported it, my hair fanning over him as I did so. I moaned quietly. "Ryou." I did it so shyly. This was the first time I had said his name since we began. Sure, I had panted, moaned and groaned, or something along those lines, to vocally express my lust and passion, but that didn't count. Saying his name was different. How? I couldn't put my finger on it in my self-induced stupor.

We both stopped, for a moment. Pants. Long exhales. Dogs barking down the street. There was a car starting up next door. We could tell from the grumbling engine and the squeal of the tires on pavement. That's what we heard. We could smell, well, there was only one true smell in the room. Sex.

Wait. No. Not sex. It wasn't just sex. It was the fragrance of our sex. It was of bitter sweat absorbed by the blankets, the sweeter sweat still on our bodies, his attar heavy aura and, as Ryou had once described it, my very masculine scent. There was blood mixed in the air. The same blood that was setting into the wrinkled fabric near our middles in small blots, crawling down my back from the places the boy's nails extended into my skin too far, and from my bottom lip, where my hikari bit when I first hit the tight mass of nerves in him. I could not forget the red essence escaping the boy from inside him, which had been lubricating my actions through it all.

I rubbed small circles into his thigh, starting off slow then working with a bit more force and speed. Whimpering, my lighter side shifted. He gently kissed the nearest part of me, which happened to be my wrist.

Rolling my head upwards, I looked directly into his face. His pale, pale skin didn't exactly glow, but with his wispy hair tussled all about, strands running in and out in a delicate weave, and his cheeks dusted pink, and his eyelashes curling to make the little that I saw of his eyes seem unreal, he might as well had been. Glowing, I mean. There were shinning tears beaded in his lashes. A frown worked its way into my head. I never meant to hurt him enough to make him cry. Maybe I should have prepared him more. Or at least used something easier on him than saliva.

"Kura?"

"Hmm?"

'"I am hurting."

"Sorry. I should have been gentler with--."

He looked away, the pink tint on his cheeks turning darker.

"No. That's not what I meant. You're not moving, and—I mean, I feel so, so awkward and I need you to, you know, move."

It took several moments to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. I started kissing him on the jaw, releasing his thigh. I walked the tips of my fingers to his pelvic bone. Dragging along it, I reached what was causing my hikari's problem. He whimpered as I trailed the center of my fingertips down the underside of his manhood. For a second, he tightened unbearably around me. Letting out only a broken sigh, I stroked the boy. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Sliding down, I wrung the base of his shaft. Locking eyes, I pumped it, inserting my own farther in his body. I did it again, and again, and again, and again. He was resisting the inevitable climax. He smiled, chewing down on his lip to keep from screaming out, I suppose.

"Kura. That's not what I meant." From around my wrist, the boy moved my hand from his manhood to his waist. I hung frozen above him, alarmed.

His eyes laughed at my concern. I could see it. The way his lids curved into a crescent shape and the way the irises twinkled. "Did I ever say that I wanted to rush? It only hurts when you stop. I never said I wanted it to end, now did I?" He raised his lower body to mine, forcing my entirety into him. Chocolate circles were shut off from view. He retracted, and then came back up. His words began to slur. "I want you to drag the first one out. Drag it out as long as possible."

I kissed the skin between his mouth and chin, beginning a slower, more passionate pattern of ins and outs.

"Why? Shouldn't you ask me to stop?" I whispered as I continued my hot movements.

"But I want this."

"Why?" My skin chaffed against his.

"Because, because…" The words came out softly, and I nearly missed them. They were three, little words. People have given them so much meaning, so much power.

Without pausing, I slid my hands, both my hands, to each of his cheeks. I didn't feel the parting I thought I was going to feel by letting go of his hair. But that was because, now, I knew that when I let go, he would still be there. His three little words promised that.

Softening my eyes, I leaned down, claiming his lips in a kiss.

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I could not remember a word that was said. Blame the fucking drugs. I knew one thing; he said that I was hurting him. But I could visualize every movement, every smell, every noise, and almost every thought I created in my mind. Like how I thought that he loved what I was doing and how he drew pleasure from my vile thrusts.

I moved my head from leaning up against the hallway wall to the knee brought up to my chest. My other leg was lying bent out in front of me. Yami's little clique, and yes, it is a clique no matter what they say, basically owned this hall. It led the way to extra rooms that weren't really used, and the teacher's bathroom.

There was an understanding among the entire student body not to hang out here, though I don't think we would care. We were considered the most popular group in school, why I do not know. It might have to do with having a world-famous, teenaged CEO, the current King of Games, several pretty well known tournament runner-ups, and, well, we were all relatively nice to look at. And though we collectively were popular, we were not cruel. But that didn't seem to matter to the students. We were popular and that was the reason most of our classmates were allowed to avoid us. This analysis, of course, is setting aside the fact of us being gay. People don't avoid people for being gay. Err, okay. Even now, I would see the falsehood behind my statement.

Whatever the reason for our peers avoiding us, there wasn't any movement through the halls, since the period, which both Yami and I had free, was a minute or so over halfway done.

Breathing slowly, I tried to calm myself down. Though the memories came back every day, I still wasn't used to it. I dreaded seeing those visions of what I did. Ryou had often, in only a couple of words, told me that it wasn't my fault as I was someone else back then. The boy knew how I hated talking about it, so he did his best to avoid it. Sometimes, you have to love how willing he is to respect your wishes.

But he could be just as much of a pain. My eye twitched. I was wearing the white shirt I came to school with, the same shirt that the demon of a hikari left a black print of his lips on. No one had a spare shirt, and I would not shame myself by wearing a gym shirt the entire day. But damn it, I looked like some sort of slut.

I went up as to scratch my jaw and put it back to its original spot. Instead, I left my hand hanging from the column of my neck. No matter how much I understood what I did was wrong, no matter how much I wanted to take it back, I still, still knew that I had enjoyed it. It made a shutter rise through me, but that didn't make it any less true.

The touch of his lips on mine, his piercing moans, my infrequent outbursts of passion, and the fire of being in him all forced a hitch of breath from me to recall. And this first millisecond where I could only just feel his thin digits tracing my bones, I would forget about consequences and morals, and I would feel the urge to hold his body intimately again.

But when that moment passed, I felt as if I was going to vomit.

A loud thud startled me out of my thoughts. I looked to where the noise had come from my right to see my fellow yami's book bag at my side. Its owner smiled down to me, crossing over to my left before kneeling down. The tan male fell backwards, his back against the wall, his legs crossed. "Sorry I took so long, Baki," he said, looking at my face with a smile. "I wouldn't leave until Miss Betty found those damn records. I need those hours. What sort of school requires community service to graduate?"

I didn't say anything back. Normally, we would go into a long discussion on how, even if this was a very good school with excellent faculty and reputation, it was fucked up with just about everything else, especially the student government and the main office. Then we might rant on about how much smaller the sevens are looking this year or just about any grade below us. But I wasn't exactly in the mood for that kind of shit.

My eyes darkened and as I talked, my voice was serious. "Atemu, we need to--."

"Don't speak so loudly. Who knows who is near? And I highly doubt that you want anyone to eavesdrop, now do you?" The bronze male turned his face away from mine. He stared emptily ahead. I noticed how his features distinctly hardened and sharpened. The smile that once greeted the world was gone; a cold cut frown was now in its place.

I opened my mouth to begin speaking when Yami yet again cut me off. "When we set you free, we were all worried. We all knew of your wrongdoings, capabilities of evil, and your unset limits. Since we couldn't just leave you to destroy your light's mind, we planned to not even give you a body. Just separate you from Ryou and leave your soul to wither away without a capsule to contain it.

"But Ryou, he didn't want that for you. He cried and cried for your freedom. He only talked with me, asking for permission for you to live in the world. He told me how he needed you, and how he didn't care how cruel you were, how it wasn't your fault, how much he"—Yami paused for a second—"how much he cared for you. I warned him of the risks and how much work it would be to change you. And yet, he wouldn't back down. He promised me you two, both of you, would be okay.

"We had had our bodies for a month. Everything seemed so perfect, you know? I finally got to be with Yuugi, Seto loved Joey and Joey was finally accepting the fact he wanted Seto, Honda and Otogi were together for a year, Anzu and Serenity for half that. All that, as well as the normal teenaged bull. I thought you just needed your space, and that was why we never saw you."

Yami's voice was distant and echoing. I shifted around, sliding my body down the wall. I lifted my head from the floor to the crimson-eyed pharaoh's lap. My arm lay lazily over my stomach. I slowly adjusted my body accordingly.

"So when Ryou came to my doorstep in the middle of the night, barely able to stand due to blood lost, I felt so clueless. How the hell didn't we see what was going on? He tried his best to bandage himself, like he had been doing, but his wounds wouldn't stop bleeding. Yuugi was sleeping. He never knew, and doesn't now."

Yami's fingers combed through my hair. I decided to wait for him to continue instead of rushing him.

"After he explained what had been going on, I told him that it would be better to let us help. He refused. 'I'll deal with it, Atemu. I know I can. Don't worry about me. I know he would never go too far, Yami.' So, I promised him I would not tell, or interfere. I taught him ways to help the wounds, to make them hurt less and heal faster. I told him to let me inspect him every couple of days, and to call when things got out of hand."

I flinched at the last part of his sentence. "He called that night?" I asked before I was able to stop myself.

"The first time he ever did. He came back for help with bandaging six or seven times, but he never called. I guess he waited until you were sleeping to call me. Not including his thanks and goodbye, he only said one thing. 'Yami, what stops the pain afterwards?' I was always afraid of the night when you would go past the abuse. I told him my fear, but he…"

The pharaoh choked up. He had gone through so much stress, because of me. Though everyone now knew that I had been an addict, I am certain that only Yami knew the truth to why I stopped. Ryou forced me, as a first step to recovery, to tell his friends everything, and tell them I stopped because I was afraid of losing myself, or some bullshit of that sort. They were all willing to accept that, since they were more concerned with helping me.

I fucked things up badly, now didn't I?

"Are you happy you that you listened to him? That you didn't interfere? If you did, I wouldn't have--."

Crimson flashed open, staring sharply at me. As his body grew tense, he spoke with a bold whisper. We were still in the hall, after all. "You probably wouldn't have done a lot of shit if I interfered. Maybe you would have stopped your drug abuse earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have beaten him every other night. Maybe you won't have raped"—It sounded so wrong when he said it—"him. But the boy thought that his way was correct; that it would help you more than anything else. And I listened to him. And you know what? I can honestly say that, yeah, I think that there is no other solution as perfect as that one."

His eyes were burning with the appearance of their owner's strength and respectability. I knew it was just some falsehood in those red irises. You could never put it past Yami to pretend he felt more secure than he actually was. I waited for that one slip of emotion and—there it was. A twitch at the base of his jaw showed me. I looked away from his watching eyes. He relaxed.

My former lover's fingers tangled and untangled my hair as I reviewed all of what was told to me. The digits' movements were slow and steady, calming. By what Atemu was saying, Ryou was, was expecting me to take him. He was prepared to do anything to help me, to help me be normal. Happy. My light allowed me to abuse him, make him feel obligated to sit in his chair to wait for me, and then rip his innocence from him. How could Yami think this was perfect?

The sounds of doors opening and many footsteps echoed throughout the halls, to the one the two of us were sitting in. This period was either over, or was going to be and some classes were let out early. Letting out a heavy sigh, I pushed myself into a sitting position. I got up, my fellow dark doing the same. It had become a routine for us to split up and wait for our hikaris outside their classrooms after this break.

After slinging our book bags over our shoulders, Yami looked up at me awkwardly. This was the most serious conversation we had ever had. "Umm."

I smiled at the teen. "Atemu. It's okay." I said as I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

The dark broke out in a weak smile, mimicking my own. "What are friends for?" He coughed, dryly, remembering that we really needed to separate. Both our hikaris could be extremely impatient, and scary, when they were hungry. "Well, I guess I'll see you in, what, five minutes?"

I began to walk backwards down the hall, towards Ryou's classroom. "Are we all going out today?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, see you in a bit." I turned around, walking the proper way. I heard Yami's footsteps start up in the opposite direction. My movements were made without much thought. I had gone through this route many times already.

Perfect. I cannot see how my relationship with Ryou could ever reach that level, because of my actions. I made us tainted, impure. It isn't possible to be perfect but not pure. One is to be free of flaw and the other free of contamination. I corrupted any sort of right and good with my light. Why should Ryou be involved with someone if they aren't, aren't, aren't perfect? He deserves that, after all.

I was now in the hallway containing the senior lockers. I was not surprised to see a pair making out in the corner. The taller, older female held her auburn-haired partner against the wall. Everyone ignored them. They were the infamous, PDA couple of the year. Well, they were tied for first; Otogi and Honda were just as reckless as the girls. It's a bit difficult to even call what the two couples did a public display of affection. Even if someone takes one ounce of self-control from them, I knew we would be having Anzu, Otogi, Honda and Serenity's clothes spread out though the school.

I walked up behind Anzu and flicked the back of her neck. A curse was muttered from the brunette, which was lost inside her lover's mouth. Her hand reached up to the spot I targeted as she turned around. "Bakura! What the hell?"

"You know you will get detention if one of the many jack-off teachers at our lovely school comes by. Do you want to have something like that on your transcript? I can see it now. 'Anzu Mazaki: Perfect record from eighth grade to eleventh, with high grades to boot. But what's this? In senior year, she couldn't keep her hands off a Miss Serenity Wheeler? Tsk. We can't have reckless girls like that going to my college.'" Behind the blue-eyed female, Serenity was smoothing out her clothes.

"Humph. At least I actually went middle school."

I smirked. School was something you never played around with Anzu. She gets too riled up. "Hey, we can't all be lucky enough to have friends in high places willing to create a couple of legal documents here and there."

"Uh! You and Yami got it off easy. Seto should have never done that for you guys. You don't have an honest education."

"Come on, Anzu," Serenity said, already pulling the other teen. She must have sensed Anzu's annoyance. "If we wait by the entrance for the others now, we could make-out and not be late." Anzu considered what her girlfriend said and nodded. Without a good-bye, the two scampered to the nearest staircase. If they didn't have each other, those two would be the whores of the school. They were the horniest people I have ever met.

Dismissing it for the teenaged hormones everyone has at one point or another; I turned around to begin my way to Ryou's class, again. I had only taken two steps before I saw a white-haired person, carrying several large textbooks, papers and notebooks. He walked past the crowd of other seniors, a girl holding a ruined book bag in tote. My hikari was too wrapped up to notice me through the mass.

"Ryou! Let me hold something! My bag is the one that broke!" The girl nagged. I had seen her many times. Actually, every time I picked Ryou up from Advanced Placement Math, the two were talking. Her name was Amy. The girl dressed fashionably, with a touch of bohemian flair. She was complete with a knitted, lavender hat covering her long, curly red hair.

"Well, it doesn't matter. We're here already." My light stopped at a locker only a few feet away from where I stood. I was about to walk up to them, but I had the suspicion that I shouldn't.

"Okay. Hold on a second." The girl's fingers twirled the knob to a lock, opening it seconds afterwards. Ryou pushed the items he was holding into the now open locker.

"There you go. I have to go back to the classroom. Bakura's supposed to be meeting--."

"Before you go, can I ask you something?" I held my breath, staring straight at the pair. Around me, there was the usual noise and chaos of a hallway. But I couldn't take even an ounce of attention from the boy and girl. She was blushing, stuffing her ripped bag into the locker and closing it quickly.

The redhead looked up at Ryou, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She breathed in before speaking. "Well, um, I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend."

"Not really. Probably just hanging out with my friends. Why do you ask?"

"Well, so that maybe, you know, we could go. Out."

Amy's and my attentions focused to the brown-eyed teen. He was smiling softly, playing with the holes of his fishnet sleeves. "Amy, you know I love you and all, but I can't. I'm with someone who I am very, very committed to."

"Oh." The girl sighed, her shoulders drooping. She was still blushing, now for another reason. Amy twisted one of her curls, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry. If I didn't, I would have been more than happy to."

"It's okay. I understand. I should have known somebody has her hands on you." Amy relaxed. Maybe she was content now that she got over the whole confrontation. She smiled coyly. "So, how far have you two gone?"

"Amy!"

"Come on. It's a question between two buddies."

Ryou made a face. With a pause, he sighed. "Too far for your virgin ears."

"Shut up!" She mock pushed him. "She must be pretty good in the sack if you stood with her this long."

Ryou laughed. "First off, I am not that type of person. I'm offended that you said that, even if you are playing around. Second, use proper pronouns. He, not she." The teen corrected her good mannerly. My eyes flashed upwards to the clock at the end of the hall. Our friends had been waiting for us for a little over five minutes now. Knowing Yuugi, we are going to be in deep shit for being late for even a minute.

"Damn, was I barking up the wrong tree!"

"Don't be like that," Ryou said, pouting.

"Can I at least know the name of my competition, my rival, my arch nemesis?"

He suddenly looked conflicted, wanting to answer, but yet, not. "I'm not really supposed to say."

She seemed hurt. "Why not?" Why not was right. It's not like he was lying about having someone. Ryou wasn't that type of person to make a lover up. If he didn't want to go out with Amy, he would have told her so. He would have told her that he wasn't attracted to girls, or that he didn't want to ruin their relationship, or that he had a crush on someone else and it would have been wrong for him to date her. The boy would have told her anything as long as it was the truth. He wouldn't lie. Not like this. It wasn't a lie. My hikari had someone.

"We're having a little debate over exactly what we feel for one another," he stumbled. "We don't exactly say much about that. I don't even really think we're really boyfriends yet. It's just, you know, there." Amy was taking in just as many things as I was, but I was far more startled. Ryou had slept with someone who he didn't consider his boyfriend? "I've talked to Yami about all of this; you know him, right? Well, Yami really knows what makes him tick. So I ask for help every once in awhile." Atemu knew? He knew, and he didn't tell me? Fuck it! What is with everyone! First the boy I loved, and now my best friend. (Oh, man. When did Atemu become my best friend?)

"So Yami knows him personally? And you and him have—Wait." Realization stormed the girl's features. "Oh."

Ryou smiled awkwardly. "Was I subtle enough for you?" He was hoping Amy would figure it out. But, that would mean she knows him too.

Amy blushed deeper and shut her eyes. Her hand flew up to her forehead, and her curls swung side to side as she pushed her face into her palm. "Of course! I feel like such an idiot now." Ryou laughed and put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Excuse me." A short brunette watched me with waiting eyes. I stepped aside, allowing her to reach her locker. Amy's red hair was easy to find in the crowd. She was still at her locker. But my light wasn't there. Scanning the heads of the crowd, I didn't see Ryou until he was flush up against me from the front. He limply wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. The boy sighed against the skin of my neck, a brush of his lips a reminder of his existence. "Hey, Bakura. What are you doing here?"

I didn't answer right away. I grabbed his wrists from behind me and brought them out from around me so they were between us. My light was clearly confused with his eyes widened and staring blankly at my actions. "What?"

"When I didn't see you in front of your classroom, I thought of looking for you here. You are now officially holding back the entire clique from our lunch outing." Ryou looked up to the clock. Gasping with a short curse to compliment it, my hikari slapped his forehead.

"Yuugi is going to kill us."

I laughed wholly, beaming down at him toothily, causing the other teen to look up, surprised. "You know, I am more scared of Yuugi than Atemu. That kid is terrorizing."

Ryou drew his hand up to touch my forehead. "Are you feeling alright? You seem usually cheery right now. You never laugh like that in public."

I licked my lips, hesitating for only a moment before answering, "Everything is perfect, little one. Now, come on. Yuugi is going to skin our hides if we don't run."

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A/N: I got in yuri for my very darn bestest online buddy, setoswhiterose. I'm much more interesting in the whole yuri thing than ever before. It's just so sad that I get really annoyed with anime girls, and any girls I do like don't have a yuri partner that actually makes sense. Anzu and Serenity is a long-shot pairing, but whatever. When someone is stuck with the anime girls we get and the fact that there are no yuri manga at Barnes and Noble ever (12 Days does not count), I frankly don't mind having an improbable couple.