(A/N: A silly little attempt at getting back into writing after going through a bit of a slump. Quite a bit of language here.)

Bakura had wondered, for a good while, what one could buy (or steal, if required) a man who had everything. Seriously, no holds barred, honest to goodness ev-ry-thing. It seemed an impossible feat – and he wasn't one often deterred by the impossible. Heck, it'd been a long time since he'd decided something couldn't be done.

That aside, Seto was finicky. Worse than a goddamned pedigree long-furred tight-assed stuck-up Persian cat. He detested jewellery, refused to wear any clothing but that which he bought for himself (not that Bakura wanted to encourage the practice of wearing clothing in his presence), didn't care for chocolate or cigarettes or alcohol or anything that the average person might appreciate. The irony of giving him flowers ("You are my bitch, after all.") was greatly deterred by the fact that Seto would more likely than not shoot him on the spot if he dared push the line that far and…

What else was there?

There had to be more prospective gifts out there. Linens? They were always tearing up the sheets. No, that was just stupid. Almost as bad as buying kitchenware for someone. Was it possible to choose a more generic and thoughtless gift? … If so, he'd probably already thought of it.

Shoes, books, music and movies were all no. Seto didn't care for having several pairs of shoes – he had black ones to match some suits, white ones for others and about a dozen pairs of boots for every other possible occasion. He really required no more footwear. As for books, he hardly read them. His excuse was always working. Ditto for listening to music and watching movies – he didn't have that kind of time to waste, so he said.

Bakura wondered a little why choosing a gift he considered 'good enough for Seto' mattered so much to him, but decided it was one of those enigmas he shouldn't concern himself with. Rather like why the Earth was round or why sand was dry.

So, to continue. Any sort of home or office decoration was a ridiculous idea, as was something like a picture frame or vase. Seto didn't use those kinds of things and moreover, he thought of them as wastes of space and eyesores. (Bakura figured that if Seto could dwell in a plain black room sitting on a plain black office chair with plain black everything and the glow of his precious computer screen, he'd be totally and completely happy. This was unfortunate, because Bakura, as selfish as he was, refused to allow him that much pleasure.)

He didn't even allow himself to think of electronics. If Seto wanted it, he had it. Point blank.

Sex toys? … The idea was laughable. Absurd. Seto didn't do sex toys, literally or otherwise. It was enough of a chore to get him into bed for real sex – it wouldn't do to give himself self-controlled competition (he didn't wonder Seto might use a dildo just to spite him).

He was about ready to tear his hair out. What on the great bloody Earth could he give the richest teenager in Japan that wasn't boring, useless, insensitive, ugly, competition, stupid, cheap, or something he already had?

… Oho.

And so that was how it came to be that Seto received a very perky and poorly-wrapped Bakura for his birthday.