The next couple of days passed without much significance. Mokuba came by to check in. Still lively as ever and excited to see Yugi. They ended up having a strange cryptic conversation about some order Yugi had placed to Seto Kaiba via email. Yami couldn't really follow along, and he quickly lost interest when he heard the words: antique, Texas Instruments, and spelling machine.

Ryuji continued to diligently arrive with offerings of food and assistance every afternoon. Sometimes he cooked Yugi something, sometimes he brought take-out. It was always a relief knowing someone was feeding Yugi, since his host was so bad at doing it himself. Aside from that the occasional friend would make an appearance. Even the dubious and suspect Monster World campaign continued without any incident. Ryou had tried to coax him out with another offer to play.

He refused to take the bait.

More than a few nights Yami contemplated smashing the dioramas for that game to bits, and scattering their remains all over the kitchen floor.

He resisted.

All it would accomplish was angering his host, and antagonizing the very thing he wanted to chase away with the action.

He desired neither of those outcomes.

Things with his host however were progressing pleasantly. They mostly played games, which was just fine as far as Yami was concerned. And despite their real time conversations, Yugi still continued their game of questions at night.

'Coffee or tea?'

'What makes you think I remember the taste of either? ...but coffee.'

As he stared at the white board in the early morning hours, Yami thought of those mornings when he would prepare Yugi for work. Morning when he'd let his host sleep in, and take possession of his body to perform their usual morning rituals.

Coffee, was generally Yugi's morning drink of choice. For the caffeine. But hot cocoa was Yugi's favorite hot drink of all, because his host had an absurd sweet tooth.

Yami could not remember what his own preference might have been, or even if he'd ever tasted either drink when he'd been alive. But while inside Yugi's body, influenced in part by Yugi's taste buds, the flavor he most preferred was the bitter tang of the coffee... just so long as it was offset by several spoonfuls of sugar. It was a preference that might change depending on the body possessed, but then Yami had never experimented with multiple hosts... yet.

Yet. Because there would come a day when his current host was no longer around, and Yami would continue to exist indefinitely. Chained to the puzzle. Waiting for the next host.

He forced that train of thought away, burying it deeply.

'What's your favorite scent?'

Yami shut his eyes. Why were these questions so difficult all the time? He couldn't actually smell anything and would have to rely on the experience as experienced through Yugi's own nose. He tried to remember what he particularly enjoyed smelling when in control of his host.

In their early time together he hadn't been particularly focused on smelling anything. He usually took control when Yugi was in danger; when it became clear his host could not handle the situation on his own. Generally this happened after Yugi had been physically assaulted, so the scents Yami smelled tended to be the coppery scent of blood, or the saltiness of tears. Sometimes the grimy pungent odor of back alleys, or the aggressive sweat and cologne coming off of the disgusting bullies.

Back then, the adrenaline was too high, the moments too dire, there wasn't time to stop and appreciate his senses. He was always too focused on protecting Yugi, and winning the Shadow Games.

But there were almost no Shadow Games to play lately. And now there was more time to appreciate all the senses Yugi's body allowed him to indulge.

Freshly brewed coffee was right up there among the top scents he enjoyed. The candles Yugi's mother had given him for his new apartment were very nice too. Floral and citrus. Yami also enjoyed the smell of warm clean laundry right out of the dryer. But also the scent of fresh nail polish or the permanent markers on Yugi's desk.

This was a difficult decision. He shifted in the recliner and tapped the end of his red dry erase marker against the edge of the white board.

'Candles. That scent after you blow one out is very nice.'

He moved on. The last question was a little easier to answer.

'What's your favorite movie genre?'

Yami stared long and hard at this question. He had a vague idea of what genre meant. Horror was a genre. Definitely not his favorite genre, but Yugi seemed to enjoy watching those movies, especially with Ryou. The two of them frequented the theaters together over the past few years to catch the new releases.

Action was a genre. Those had lots of explosions and gun fights.

Fantasy was a genre too. Those movies were generally pleasant.

He tried to remember what sorts of movies he most enjoyed watching.

Was the Princess Bride a genre? It had things he liked: adventure, sword play, mind games, humor and romance. But the movie itself couldn't be a genre could it?

He drew a few figure-eights on himself while he pondered.

'I like the Princess Bride.'

Yugi could make of that what he will. He was more educated on these subjects anyway.

Now it was Yami's turn to ask a question. What was something he didn't already know about his host? Something he wanted to know. Something not incredibly invasive.

Why does the Blue-Eyes plushie keep showing up on your bed in your soul room?

What represents me in your soul room?

Can it be on your bed too?

He'd scoured Yugi's soul room from floor to ceiling pouring over the items littered around, attempting to figure out what all the objects meant, and who certain ones were associated with.

He had yet to find one that associated to him. Well, aside from the reliquary (holding box) the millennium puzzle pieces had been kept in. But that wasn't so much a personal impression on Yugi's soul, so much as an impression of how the puzzle itself had affected his life. It sat innocuously on the nightstand next to the bed in Yugi's soul room. A mirror of it's location in the real world, the living plane. He didn't know why it bothered him so much that he couldn't find a representation of himself in Yugi's soul room. It's not like Yugi knew him that well. He wasn't nearly as important to Yugi as Yugi was to him...

A tight sick feeling burned and festered within. Nameless agony that made his chest hurt. Frustrated at his inability to identify it, but it was a feeling that seemed to torment him increasingly more often the closer he got to Yugi.

He quashed the feeling, and wrote out something reasonable.

'What is your best quality?'

Yami already knew what he considered his host's best quality. But he was interested to learn how Yugi felt about himself. And this question was much less invasive and less weird than the previous questions he wanted to ask. After all, it wasn't like Yugi even knew what a soul room was, much less why his was decorated a certain way.

With the game of questions finished, the spirit placed his white board back on the coffee table. It made a soft clacking noise that sounded a lot louder than it actually was in the late night silence of the apartment.

Normally he would read a book or play a game to pass the rest of the night, something to ease the uneventful isolation. But tonight his thoughts spiraled around something else. He didn't look up or even move to leave the couch, instead outstretching a void black hand.

Fingers tensed, curling towards his palm like talons. Golden eyes narrowed in concentration as Yami poured all of his focus into that hand, forcing his will over it, willing the matter to change.

The edges of his form bristled. One wave of magic, then another rolled off his form, distorting the air, marking it thick and potent. The reality around him appearing to bend like someone viewing it through a lens.

A small golden sliver cut across his forehead, growing thicker the harder he concentrated on his hand.

Ever so slowly the sliver became a line, thicker and more prominent, before splitting open to take the shape of an eye, a single pupil popped into reality. It dilated once, before sharply constricting in his intense fixation.

All three of his eyes bore into his hand, his will crushing, constricting, making the world around him waver. His fingers shuddered from the strain.

Little ash-like flakes of blackness began to disintegrate from his fingertips.

Slowly at first, but spreading, dissolving down to the first knuckle. Overtaking, then eating away for the second.

In the wake of the disintegrating void were human fingers. Transparent, but he could just make out the details and shape of a fingernail, the washed out colors of brown skin, the creases of the skin on the first knuckle...

A noise from the back of the apartment shattered his focus.

The shadows crawled back over his fingers, the ghostly flesh overtaken by wisps of void, until his hand was back to its normal black silhouette.

Startled and a little concerned, Yami rose off the couch, a stretching looming shape, the tips of his hair like licks of black flame reaching for the ceiling.

He strode down the hall, not a whisper of noise, not even the disturbance of air. The apartment was still as death and silent again, dark with only the faintest glow of the city slipping between the gaps in the curtains. So easy it was for Yami to blend into his surroundings, desaturate, and move with an ease he never would dare in the daylight hours.

Rather than open the bedroom door, he melted against the surface, becoming as incorporeal and flat as a natural shadow. He slipped between the cracks. His inky form drifted over the walls, dresser, and various objects, changing contours as he moved across the surfaces until he reached the bed where Yugi was presumably sleeping, tucked safely beneath the covers.

Whatever the noise that had alerted him, it appeared to be of no consequence.

He waited, plastered against the wall above Yugi's bed. The clock on the nightstand read 5:17am. Nothing seemed to be amiss. Even had he not been disturbed by an oddly distressed sound, it was time to return to the puzzle. Yami began to peel himself from the wall and sink towards the puzzle hanging off Yugi's headboard.

A whimper reached his ears. And Yugi tossed his head to the side, now facing the shadow.

Raw panic flared within the spirit, making his edges distort and he almost made to dive into the puzzle.

But a second of hesitation revealed Yugi's eyes were still closed, forehead creased in pain, and sweat drenching his wavy blonde bangs.

He was dreaming.

Another whimper, this one even more stricken. Then a choked sob.

A night terror. Ever since the incident with the car, Yugi was having more than a few of those.

Guilt crashed over Yami with the crushing weight of a tidal wave. I did this.

Even in the darkness he could see the collar of Yugi's night clothes, discolored and damp with sweat. There were beads dripping off his forehead. Yugi's matted hair—already oily since it had been a couple days since his last shower—was now slick, and sticking to his skin.

Another mewl, panicked, frightened, pained.

Yami was reaching out thoughtlessly before it even occurred to him that Yugi could awaken at any moment.

It mattered not.

He pushed away from the wall, becoming corporeal and settled onto the bed next to his host. Void arms slipped ever so carefully beneath Yugi and pulled him into an embrace. They clutched him close, tucking his head just beneath the Spirit's chin.

I've got you, Light. You are safe. He released the mental barriers and intentionally opened the mind link between them. The action was like wrenching a rusted door. An imposing, heavy iron door weighed by gravity that at any moment might snap shut again. But Yami forced himself to keep it open in spite of his fears. Yugi needed him now.

Communication was not something he was gifted at. And having spent so many years isolating himself, keeping his side of the mind link firmly closed off, he wasn't sure how to project his thoughts now. Unable to form coherent words, he let his presence and intentions flood the link. Protect, protect protect. Got you. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here.

Another distressed sound tore from Yugi's throat, and suddenly he was clinging to Yami, fingers grasping fistfuls of phantom clothing, dragging the shadow closer.

Yami held him tighter, cradling Yugi to his chest as carefully as he could manage without jostling his injured hip. His eyes clenched shut, extinguishing the golden glow, as he buried his face in Yugi's sweaty hair.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

A gentle wave of relief traveled through the mind link, and suddenly Yugi relaxed. The tension in his body eased until he was went limp against Yami's chest, not unlike an over-cooked noodle.

Whatever the nightmare, it seemed he had chased it away.

Good riddance. Yami too, relaxed into the bed, pulling Yugi with him, cradling him in his arm with Yugi's head pillowed on his chest. Should his light's eyes flutter open for even a second he would see the spirit, especially with the grey light of morning growing brighter with each minute that passed. Why don't I care more?

Golden eyes cracked open to appraise the sleeping man, their gentle glow illuminating his soft features. Yugi appeared calm, his breathing evening out as he settled back into a more restful sleep. With any luck it would be dreamless, but if he must dream let it be a pleasant one.

A well of fondness bubbled within akin to a warm fizzy drink, and Yami let the feeling flow through the link to envelope Yugi as well. And to his surprise, it echoed right back.

0000

Yugi sat in the bathroom, on the toilet with the lid closed, simply using it for a seat. His crutches were propped next to him while he cradled his cell phone in hand.

Damn.

Mom had taken Grandpa to a doctor's appointment to see a specialist, and they wouldn't be back in the area until closer to evening. That was... Yugi checked the time on his cellphone, roughly nine hours from now. It was 8am.

He wrinkled his nose at the feel of his skin. Lifting a hand he threaded it through matted damp locks, and winced at the texture, the oil, and the overall grimy feeling. The rest of his body was feeling much the same, and he'd had to shed his night clothes upon waking up. In the spots they were not drenched from sweat, they were stiff and starchy from dried sweat. They also smelled like a used gym sock.

Nine hours...

Yugi flipped through his contacts, contemplating Jonouchi and Honda momentarily.

Would that be weird since I started dating men when I turned twenty? If that was his argument it would be just as weird asking Anzu, since he also had a history of dating girls, and Anzu had been one of his first crushes back in school. Still, he hesitated with his thumb over her contact information. She was always nice, and she wouldn't take it the wrong way if he asked for help, right?

"I just want a shower," Yugi whined to no one in particular, and smacked the phone against his oily forehead.

He cast a side eye at the glass shower stall, and scrutinized it with more than a little intensity.

It's not like I couldn't shower by myself. The doctors had strictly warned him against it. It would be a challenge to get the crutches into the shower, they were going to get wet and the arm supports were going to stink. If he left them outside there was hardly anything to hold onto in the stall, and should he slip and fall he'd be going straight back to the hospital. And then Seto was going to have an aneurysm.

Well then he can give me a shower! Yugi thought bitterly, scrolling through his contacts until he reached the name, "Kaiba." For half a minute he entertained how that call might play out. Seto would either tell him, "hell no," and order Ryuji over to help him shower. Or...

Yugi's whole face erupted in burning heat, and he clicked the button on the side of his phone to blacken the screen.

Nope, nope, nope, nope.

He proceeded to smack his forehead with the phone some more. Although whether it was an act of frustration or a form of punishment, who could say.

*clack*

The sound of plastic hitting linoleum drew Yugi's attention and he opened his eyes. The white board was sitting on the floor right before his feet. The red marker next to it. A message written in that elegant red scrawl marked the surface.

'I could help you.'

He had to blink at the message several times while his mind sluggishly comprehended what Yami was offering.

"Are you offering to help me shower? Because I appreciate the offer, but it'll be awfully dangerous with my eyes closed the entire time." It occurred to Yugi that he wasn't as alone in the bathroom as he'd thought. Somehow he always associated the ghost with his living room. But it wasn't all that startling a realization that he could follow him into the bathroom. The fact that he was practically naked aside from a pair of boxer briefs was the more pressing matter.

Embarrassment began to color the skin on his neck and shoulders.

A black hand rose from the center Yugi's shadow and snatched the marker off the floor. At the sight a violent shiver worked its way from the back of Yugi's skull all the way down to his tail bone, before shooting through his legs. His blood felt like ice. It was one thing to see this disembodied hand poking out from under his couch, it was entirely another to see it rise from nothing but his own shadow cast upon the floor. When he swallowed, it felt like his throat stuck, dry and stiff.

Yami quickly wrote out a new message on the board.

'Your eyes need not be closed. I am ready to show myself.'

"Now?" Yugi say up straight, willing the hairs on the back of his neck to relax, and staring widely at the spooky spectral hand. His nervous fingers clutched his cell phone to his chest. "Like right now?"

Rather than write any sort of response, the hand made a gesture that Yugi recognized immediately as a 'thumb's up.' Then promptly retreated back into the shadow.

Cute. And very very creepy.

A myriad of other more opportune times for Yami to show himself crowded his brain. The living room while Yugi was properly dressed for example. Or in the kitchen, or even while Yugi was in bed and safely under the covers. All of those would have served to make Yugi feel a million times less vulnerable and awkward. And he had half a mind to open his mouth and say as such, but all that managed to tumble forth was, "I'm r-real ready. So ready. T-take your time."

Smooth.

The invitation was cast. Definitely not the first invitation in a long line of rejected invitations, but Yugi dared to get this hopes up this time.

He was not disappointed.

His own shadow seemed to come alive, stretching along the floor away from his feet. The farther it moved away the less puddled it became and the more it took Yugi's shape. Two slits of gold appeared, splitting wider into the almond-like shape of eyes. They pierced Yugi, glowing and eerie, soulless with no pupils, and seemingly staring straight past his flesh into his naked soul.

Yugi couldn't tear his eyes away. Couldn't even blink. He vaguely registered that his breath had caught and his brain would soon lament the lack of oxygen.

All at once Yugi's shadow appeared to detach itself from the floor, head first, then shoulders, followed by the rest. It rose straight from the ground in the most unnatural way, not as if gravity affected it in the least. Upon separation from the floor, the consistency of the shadow became viscous and black as ink. A true absence of light in the shape of Yugi himself. Well, almost. It was like looking at a distorted mirror. Yami's edges were sharper, shoulders broader, and hair wilder and spiked where-as Yugi's was matted and droopy at the moment.

Yami's imposing void figure towered over him. Somehow blocking out the light from above the sink without casting a shadow of his own. The effect was chilling... unnatural.

Stars began to dance in the corners of Yugi's vision, reminding him he needed to breathe, and when he sucked in a shaky breath he very nearly choked on it.

Yami immediately looked concerned. And Yugi wasn't sure exactly how he read that expression from nothing more than a narrowing of Yami's soulless eyes. But the shadow bent down on one knee and took Yugi's shaking hands into his own, the cell phone still clasped between them in a death grip.

Wordless. There was something about an entity moving, shifting, expressing, all in complete mute. It gave Yugi the worst chills.

But the gentle way Yami stroked the backs of his hands conveyed intent. It was as if that simple gesture was asking Yugi not to be afraid.

And Yugi wanted so desperately not to be afraid. But his traitorous heart was hammering away with the enthusiasm of a toddler who'd gotten hold of a wooden spoon and a set of pots and pans.

"Hi," Yugi managed to rasp out rather lamely.

Yami tilted his head, his eyes crinkling like he might be smiling. And that would have been comforting had his stare not been unblinking.

He gave Yugi's hands a gentle squeeze, that Yugi interpreted as a return of the greeting.

"I uh... you look like me."

Yami suddenly shrank back, part of him sinking into the floor with the sudden movement.

"I'm not upset!" Yugi waved his hands, nearly dropping his phone in the process. "I'm flattered, really. I knew you manipulated my shadow, I just wasn't expecting it to be your appearance too." Yami hesitated, the upper half of his body still visible. Those golden eyes watched Yugi with a bewitching blank expression. Yugi recalled that Yami had no recollection of his real name, and it stood to reason the ghost might not remember his appearance either. "I take it you don't remember what you look like?"

A slow shake of his head confirmed Yugi's suspicions.

"That's alright. I don't mind sharing with you."

Yami picked the whiteboard and marker off the floor, and scribbled something down. He turned it so a Yugi could read.

'You are generous.'

With that he rose back out of the shadows to sit cross-legged upon the linoleum. White board placed in his lap.

"So..." Yugi began more than a little awkwardly. His eyes made a circle around the small room while his brain fumbled with the right words, but they eventually came back to the patiently waiting specter. "Uh... you look really cool." Wow, was that narcissistic? "Not because you look like me though! I meant it as a compliment, because you're like this shadow man, but your eyes glow. It's wicked intense." He ran a hand through his hair at this and pulled on the roots in an attempt to work some sense back into his brain.

Yami wrote on the board again.

'Thank you. I think you look really cool too.'

"Pfffft!" Yugi choked on a laugh. "Not right now I don't. I'm a wreck. My hair is disgusting and I smell liked Jonouchi's old gym shoes."

The marker made a pleasant squeaking noise.

'I cannot smell. So your scent does not affect my opinion of you. As for your troubled appearance, I have offered to assist in rectifying it.'

Right. That was a thing that needed addressed. He'd gotten so caught up in the moment he'd forgotten the reason for this awkward introduction. Yugi cleared his throat. "S-so how is this going to work? The-the shower I mean."

'The usual way I presume.'

It was difficult to judge whether Yami's response was completely serious or laced with humor. All Yugi had to go off was a slight slanting of the eyes.

"R-right. But to make sure we're on the same page." He scratched at the shorter hairs on the back of his neck hating the way it itched because of sweat, but also out of nervous habit. "You're going to hold me up, and help me into the shower. And then what?" His mom usually stood outside of the stream of water, letting Yugi hang onto her while she helped wash him. The last time she'd brought a change of shorts and a shirt that she didn't mind getting soaked in.

While he was chasing a thought tangent, Yami was busy answering his question.

'I join you in the shower, and we clean your body.'

He was nothing if not concise.

"Well okay then. Gl-glad we have that all figured out." Yugi braced himself on the edge of the toilet.

'I will help you up now. I promise not to let you fall.'

A tight swallow and he rasped out, "I trust you." A curious statement because Yugi didn't actually have any particular reason to trust Yami. But Yami also hadn't ever done anything for Yugi not to trust him. If the ghost had wanted to do anything malicious or untoward he'd had plenty of other opportunities to do so already. So, Yugi was willing to extend his trust to getting into a shower... naked... with a man-ghost-shadow-thing. Honestly, it didn't feel any less awkward than asking one of his friends for help. It just felt like a different kind of awkward. He wasn't exactly sure why.

Yami set the white board aside, far enough away that they wouldn't risk stepping on it. Then he rose off the ground slowly, deliberately, and approached Yugi with both arms outstretched.

It took entirely too long for Yugi's brain to decide that he needed to reach up and grab onto Yami, and for that signal to travel to his hands once it was properly decided upon. Until his brain could sort things out and issue orders, his eyes had decided to just stare dumbly between the offered arms, and Yami's chilling eyes.

Finally, after things had gotten more than a little awkward, Yugi reached out and took hold of Yami, and was both pleased and freaked that his hands grasped something mostly solid, and did not pass through the ghost.

He could not even begin to articulate what it felt like to touch Yami. For one, he had no temperature, neither warm nor cold, and secondly he wasn't entirely solid either. It wasn't like touching a liquid, or a solid, or even a gas. The way Yami's form gave beneath his touch was strange and unnatural, not like gripping flesh or clothes at all. He wasn't even sure what to compare it too.

While his brain was busy doing acrobatics around Yami's state of being, Yugi had already been helped into a standing position, and Yami was patiently leading him towards the shower. If he noticed or was concerned about Yugi's mental absence he didn't appear to show it.

They stopped in front of the shower, and it took Yugi a moment to realize Yami was waiting for him to finish undressing.

I am really slow today. He steeled his nerves to get naked in front of his roommate, and told himself it wasn't weird at all. Not at all. Yami was a ghost, and dead, very dead. There wasn't anything sexy about that.

Very carefully, and with a little trouble, Yugi managed to wriggle out of his boxer-briefs. They fell to the floor and he stepped out of them. Yami held him firmly the entire time.

Completely nude now, Yugi couldn't stop himself from flushing red with embarrassment. No matter how much he mentally berated himself that there was nothing sexual about the situation, his skin refused to obey. He knew his cheeks were stained red when he finally lifted his face to look at Yami again.

Yami was looking down. Well sort of. It was really hard to tell where exactly his pupil-less eyes were fixed, but the general area seemed to be Yugi's... stomach? Yugi followed his gaze, half-expecting them to actually be scrutinizing his junk, before he realized Yami was probably staring at the massive bruise on Yugi's hip. It started at the top of his thigh, blooming over his hip and crawling up his side; a ugly mass of blacks, and deep purples, and yellows. Definitely healing, and looking better than it had. But still pretty awful.

"It looks a lot worse than it is."

Golden eyes snapped up to meet Yugi's, and he swore they scrunched in... pain?

"I'm ok. Really."

Yami turned his attention to the center of Yugi's chest, and reached out a shadowed hand. Yugi followed the gesture to his Millennium puzzle, still hanging by a chord off his neck. Black fingers touched the gold surface curiously.

"Oh yeah!" Yugi slipped the puzzle over his head and hung it on the closest towel hook. "I almost never take it off. I completely forgot."

When he met Yami's eyes again there was an unreadable expression. Not that he was any good at interpreting the shadow's expressions to begin with.

He tugged a little bit on Yami, to prompt the shadow into helping him in the shower.

Yami obliged, taking the cue and following Yugi as they stepped into the glass stall. His hands a constant support so that Yugi never had to put his full weight on his wounded side.

Once inside the shower stall, the door securely closed, Yugi turned on the water. It took a bit of adjusting to find the right temperature, but once the hot water hit, he felt his whole body relax.

It must have startled Yami, because the spirit suddenly redoubled his efforts to support him.

"Not gonna fall," Yugi mumbled as he tilted his head back under the stream. A breathy moan escaped his throat at the feel of the hot water in his hair. "The water feels nice."

The intensity of Yami's grip relaxed a bit. He diligently waited while Yugi indulged, not once becoming impatient, or shifting about. He simply stood beside Yugi, holding him up tirelessly, with golden eyes watching the general area of his face.

It was a little weird. But also... nice.

Once thoroughly soaked from the spray and satisfied from the heat, Yugi snatched up a wash rag and soap. He lathered them up and began scrubbing the grime away from his neck and shoulders. It felt nice, and he managed to wash nearly all his upper half before having to ask Yami for help when it came to his legs.

He expected it to be more awkward. But the shadow was extremely respectful. Upon being asked, he scrubbed Yugi's legs and feet, all the while providing his shoulders as support so Yugi wouldn't lose his balance. Then he was upright again, handing over the soapy wash rag, before returning to hold Yugi by his sides.

"Thanks." An appreciative smile tugged at his mouth.

Yami blinked in response. And Yugi knew it to be a deliberate response, because the shadow didn't seem to have a need to blink at all.

"I have to wash my hair now," he explained, and made to reach for the bottle of shampoo.

A black hand detached itself from Yugi's side and reached past to snatch up the bottle before he could.

Yugi snapped his head to the side to stare at the shadow. "Are you volunteering to wash my hair for me?"

A moment elapsed, then Yami nodded slowly.

That made Yugi's stomach do strange flips. "Well... okay then." He ducked his head, feeling heat in his cheeks and hoping it could be excused by the water temperature.

It took a little finagling. But they managed to adjust their positions so that Yugi was still supported but both of Yami's hands were free. Yugi stood facing him, both his arms braced against the shadow's shoulders, while Yami reached his hands up to comb shampoo through Yugi's wet hair.

He wouldn't lie to himself. Having someone else's hands in his hair felt damn good.

Yami seemed to have a pretty good idea of what he was doing, because it felt like a god damned massage. Those fingers pressing into his scalp, scrubbing, working in the soap. Yugi's eyes were slipping closed, his mind becoming a hazy mushy mess. He could feel his muscles going boneless. And if it weren't for Yami's hand suddenly jerking down to seize his shoulders and steady him, he might have sank to the shower floor.

Embarrassed, Yugi straightened back up again, tightening his grip on Yami's shoulders and giving him a nod to continue.

Those eerie eyes assessed him almost admonishingly. When he seemed sure Yugi wouldn't collapse again, Yami returned to his task.

This was definitely not the way Yugi had imagined seeing Yami for the first time. They were certainly a lot closer than he ever imagined, and wearing a good deal less too. Well, Yugi was. His eyes snuck a trail up and and down Yami's form, and it sorta looked like he might be wearing clothes of some kind. Strange, distorted, wispy clothes. It was fortunate he was a ghost, and thus didn't get truly wet. The water appeared to pass right through the wispy-er edges of him, while the rest of it just sort of ran off like rain drops on a duck's back.

Yugi reeled in his wandering eyes and snapped his attention back to the shadow's face. Golden eyes met his.

He'd been caught staring.

"S-sorry."

Yami shrugged, as if to say, 'I don't mind.' Then touched the side of Yugi's chin, prompting him to tilts his head back under the stream of water.

Soap suds cascaded down his back as they rinsed his hair out. Yami threaded his fingers through Yugi's hair again, helping the water along.

He had to fight to keep from getting lost in the sensation again. Yami was good. Too good.

And maybe Yugi was the tiniest bit touch starved. That was definitely a possibility, because he was starting to imagine those ghostly hands trailing more places...

Yugi jerked his head out of the water with a start and stumbled back, a foolish attempt to force some distance between him and his spooky roommate. It failed spectacularly. Frantic shadowed hands caught him, and dragged him right into Yami's chest, wrapping Yugi in a secure embrace, and effectively holding him up.

Well if this wasn't the exact opposite result.

"I-I'm f-fine." His desperately racing heart dared to call him a liar. "Not gonna fall." Meanwhile his mind was screaming at him. Just great Yugi! What the hell is wrong with you? You've finally seen him for the first time and you manage to hug him in the shower. Could you possibly be more weird about this?

The embrace slackened just a little. Enough for Yugi to put his hands back on Yami's shoulders. Only when he was sure did Yami step back, placing a more comfortable distance between them.

"Shower's done! We're done right? I'm all clean now."

Yami nodded very slowly. But he was beginning to look spooked.

"Great! Thanks for all the help!" Yugi shut off the water, and practically dragged Yami out of the shower in his attempt to escape. In his haste, he nearly tripped over the track for the sliding glass door.

To Yami's credit, he caught Yugi yet again.

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