Premise: After losing the Ceremonial Duel, the Gods gift Yami with a new body as a reward for his role in defeating Zorc. Years pass. With some help from Mokuba, who has just returned to Domino after completing school overseas, he has a more positive outlook on the opportunities before him. After working out some difficult emotional issues, he finally accepts his existence for what it is. The two fell into a FWB arrangement during this period and, in the end, decided to pursue something more concrete. They've been together for a while.
Summary: "Why did we leave, again?" Mokuba wasn't sure what to do. Luckily for him, Yami has a plan. Sort of.
Continuity: This story is based in my "Be Cool" Universe. There are now a lot of fics based in it, but if you can accept the premise (above) without having to read them, you shouldn't have any problems. If Mokuba/Yami is difficult for you to perceive, I'd give perusing "Be Cool" a try.
Notes: No lemon, sorry ;A; but I think it's still fluffy and cute. HAPPY BELATED VALENTINE'S DAY!
Warning: Cross-dressing, mentions of powerplay.
It was hard to stave off the flurry of sighs as Mokuba traveled home.
Even the tinted visor wasn't enough to dim the red decorations that had seemed to conquer each street. They were packed, but it was still easy to pick out the couples holding hands. Vendors were out everywhere, peddling more merchandise than ever from carts, vehicles and even physical pouches. Most of them didn't have permits. Of all the police roaming the streets, however, no one was going to check. Valentine's Day wasn't the time for that nonsense. There was money to be made.
Was it terrible that he wanted to pull over and throw some money at a questionable seller? Many parts of Domino already reminded him of Rochester. Mokuba could recall with clarity the people on the streets, hustling to make revenue off of cheaply acquired items. It worked, though. Nearly every holiday, he'd seen them counting the money made from a scatterbrained boyfriend or a woman who did her shopping last minute. His college campus, too, had encouraged buying from their private vendors. They would throw parties and events and sit vendors as conveniently as possible.
Holiday culture was something that Mokuba had shamelessly fallen into. Valentine's Day used to be a huge thing for him. He had a tendency to lavish his partners: multiple dates, live concerts, dinners, arcade visits or anything else that he came up with. Even his exes (at least the ones he'd remained friends with) got cards. Maybe it was pathetic in hindsight, but Mokuba loved being romantic. There weren't very many people who could spoil him, so it made sense to give others what he could.
But this year, Mokuba wasn't with anyone from the 'States. Yami was a different sort altogether. Even cuddling was sometimes difficult to negotiate. Recently, the two of them had reached an agreement: Yami would try to be more romantic and in exchange Mokuba would be a little more open to Yami's ...interests. Those particular interests turned out to be deeply entrenched in BDSM.
It was obvious who was getting the better end of the deal.
Quite some time had passed since they struck that bargain. Mokuba wasn't any closer to finding BDSM a turn on, but it made Yami feel good. The fact was that Yami took some enjoyment out of being owned and controlled. He had to admit that there was a bit of ego padding there as well; being able to adapt and be good at something new.
On the other side, Yami did make it a point to try to be more romantic and just considerate in general. They went on dates more often and he tried to pay attention to the little things. He asked Mokuba about his day more than before, he picked his arguments a little more carefully and tried to remember to speak a little more about his thoughts and not be so guarded. It wasn't as physically taxing as setting up a bondage scene, but it was more certainly progress.
For him, romance was less in what was being done and more of what was being felt. It was being treasured and those feelings being made known, and that was definitely a barrier between them. Getting Yami to come out and voice himself romantically was like pulling teeth. The two of them went at it like a game of chicken: usually Mokuba would hold out for as long as possible before admitting something and only then would Yami divulge his feelings. Mokuba was tired of spearheading things. He was just tired of being in charge.
And that wasn't something limited to just Yami. Mokuba felt that if he hadn't initiated the tradition of doing things big for Valentine's, none of his partners (even the women) would have put that much effort forth for him. According to a friend of his, it was intimidating to know money was no object for Mokuba. But money wasn't what he wanted. It was the creativity, the thoughtfulness, the emotion that Mokuba desired.
In the end, he did stop. Mokuba bought himself a single rose, narrowly avoiding further temptation. From the way things were going, it was the only way he'd get anything. He wanted to be okay with that.
His new acquisition did not fare well on the ride home. Rough wind wafting over the motorcycle had loosened the bud from the stem. When Mokuba parked in front of his apartment and got off his bike, the red bloom flopped with each step to the front door.
"Fuck it," he uttered to himself, annoyed." I'll keep it anyway.
He tried to mentally prepare himself to be underwhelmed. No text, no date, nothing special. And honestly, he wasn't sure if any of that would have made him happy anyway if he had to be the first to suggest it.
But Yami knows how you are. Mokuba didn't want to be completely pessimistic. What if he got you something?
It was a possibility. Yami did know how he felt about that sort of thing. If he walked into the house and there was a gift waiting for him, he'd feel like a piece of shit. All this ambivalence was messing with him. He'd stuck the wrong key in the door - it wasn't opening.
Chill the fuck out.
Mokuba stepped through the front door and nearly shat himself. He had to do a double take.
Yami ran down the stairs to greet him. Being eager to see him was surprising in and of itself - normally, Mokuba would have to get settled in before they even laid eyes on each other. But Yami seemed to be showing himself off today, if how he was dressed was any indication.
Literally, he needed a moment to digest what he was seeing. It felt like Mokuba's vision had zoomed in too close and everything was out of focus. At first, all that his mind could register was the presence of lace, but he knew that couldn't have been right. Even the thought of it seemed a mistake. The second look confirmed it: this wasn't just a new outfit in a different style. It was more than a patch or two. So Mokuba had to refocus and figure out what he was looking at, exactly.
"Uhhh..." The awkward pause, Mokuba hoped, would be enough to stall for an appropriate response.
Yami was wearing it. A full ensemble, Mokuba suddenly realized. He's wearing lingerie.
He cycled through quite a few questions before deciding that none of them were adequate, and simple gawked. The set included garters, thigh-high stockings, panties, some sort of fitted camisole and short gloves tied tight with ribbon. All were white, all were lacy and all of it Mokuba found ...oddly attractive. Yami wasn't curvaceous enough to fill it out the way he knew a woman would, but it didn't look bad.
Mokuba still found himself grasping for words to describe what he was seeing. The part of his brain that translated his raw emotions just wasn't working.
"...hi?" Mokuba finally pushed out.
He was disappointed; in all of his years, Mokuba had never found himself floundering for this long in any conversation. It was a little disturbing that he was still capable of being speechless. Seto would have been disappointed in him.
Yami's face - now that he bothered paying attention to it - sported a frown. It contrasted with the heavy blush on his pale features, and Mokuba resisted the urge to laugh.
"Don't ever tell anyone about this," he said and then added, "Happy Valentine's Day."
Though his thoughts were still a bit slow in coming together, a few things managed to snap themselves in place. Mokuba noticed that Yami wasn't wearing his collar in spite of ...whatever the rest of his ensemble was supposed to indicate.
That was a relief. Mokuba had to put in real effort to script scenes for the both of them and he wasn't in the mood. To come home from work to find Yami begging for something like that would have been the last straw. On the other hand, it meant that Mokuba hadn't agreed to anything last minute and then forgotten about it, either. Yami was doing this of his own volition and at least on the surface, there appeared to be no strings attached.
In light of those facts, Mokuba tried to regain some of his composure.
"What is ...I mean, why?" FAIL.
"Don't be shitty," Yami growled. "I thought you might want something a little different."
It was becoming more difficult with every glance to take Yami seriously. That blush was just adorable, no matter how upset he was or how confused Mokuba was.
"Yeah? Well I think it's safe to say you nailed that one." Without another word Mokuba moved past the distraction and continued with his evening routine. Getting redressed a little more comfortably would buy him some time to mentally regroup and figure out what he was going to do about this.
"How was work?" Yami was apparently unsatisfied with how the conversation was going.
Mokuba wasn't sure what reaction had been expected in the first place. "Fine," he answered. Between stewing in his own jealousy at other couples, the number of co-workers using vacation hours to spend time with their spouses, and coming home to this, Mokuba honestly couldn't recall anything that had happened.
"Oh," was Yami's reply. When the two of them ascended the stairs, he added, "What did you do to it? That flower looks like it's been to hell and back." A quizzical expression crossed his features.
Ah. Right. The rose. "Nothing. I just found it." The lie was less complicated than the truth, and there was no saving it anyway. "Could you toss it?"
That would at least give Yami something to do in the meantime. It was one of the skills he'd picked up while orchestrating scenes for the two of them. There were a lot of things that Mokuba could do himself, but when he needed a breather or any type of reprieve, turning small tasks into busywork could sometimes be a lifesaver. Retreating into his room, Mokuba closed the door behind him in hopes that Yami wouldn't intrude. The lock clicked audibly when he turned it, and he sighed.
Goodness. What am I supposed to do with that?
Mokuba was still having trouble processing what he'd seen. The leap from 'surprise on Valentine's' to 'dress in sexy drag' was one that he couldn't fathom. Yami wearing something embarrassing without prior instruction was also just a strange concept to him. They hadn't talked about this in advance, apparently, and Mokuba had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't a part of some scene. Yami was just behaving normally, albeit dress in some fancy lingerie.
A notion struck: what if Yami had worn that with Yuugi at some point? The two of them had history, and considering Yami's inclinations it wasn't farfetched. After all, Yami had kept all of the toys they'd used together - and most of them were ridiculously high quality.
The idea of Yami potentially recycling an outfit like that bothered Mokuba a little. He recognized that it was absurd; people didn't replace their clothes just because they had a new lover. But Yuugi in particular was a bit of a sore spot for him. Mokuba was competitive and it was difficult to not judge himself by comparison. Yuugi and Yami had a closer bond than he could ever hope to build, sexually and otherwise.
He hadn't even gathered the courage to give Yami's old collar back, let alone dealing with any of his other complexes when it came to that. Mokuba didn't want to be that guy, but the picture of Yuugi being excited about that same outfit made him want to crawl into his covers and just not come out. Being aware of his own pettiness just made it worse.
The time it took for him to change wasn't long enough, it seemed, to organize much more of his thoughts. Mokuba still wasn't sure how he felt about the ensemble in general when he emerged from the bedroom. In a casual t-shirt and shorts, he hoped that he looked as apathetic about the holiday was he wished he could feel.
Yami lounged in Mokuba's favorite chair in the den, body draped lengthwise over the armrests, nose buried in a book. His feet dangled over the left side, the lace winding its way to his toes. Mokuba's eyes followed the pattern back up to Yami's thigh, where the garter strap attached, and found himself staring. Either Yami was kind enough to pretend not to notice or he was genuinely concentrating.
Both possibilities crossed over into a sort of cuteness that was strange to Mokuba. Yami was a rough-and-tumble sort of guy. He punched first, kicked back and enjoyed being getting a rise out of people. Though he could be patient, his hot temper prevailed when the stakes were low and he could afford to lose. To his credit, he very rarely did. Even when submitting, ultimately Yami was getting what he wanted.
"So..." Mokuba began, "do you want to tell me how this happened?"
Without glancing at him, Yami slid around in the chair to sit properly. The armrests now free, Mokuba moved around to sit on the chair's right side. They were nearly touching, and he was tempted to reach out and run his fingers across the fabric covering Yami's skin. It was hard keeping his eyes focused on anything else.
"There's not much to say. I thought you might like it." And now I'm not so sure, Yami's eyes seemed to finish for him. He closed his book and it sat idle in his lap. His face was still a lovely shade of pink, lighter than before but still just as sheepish.
Mokuba chuckled. "Do you make it a habit to cross-dress for romantic holidays?"
"Fuck you," Yami grumbled. "I don't have to deal with you being an asshole about it." He crossed his arms over his chest.
Mokuba was a little sad to see the V of the camisole disappear. Afraid that Yami would flat out get up and leave, he said hastily, "Wait—" he leaned just close enough for his arm to nudge Yami's shoulder. "I don't dislike it. I just wasn't expecting it. That's all."
"That was the point. Surprise is what I was going for."
Begrudgingly, Mokuba decided to ask the other question on his mind. "Is this... new?" His fingers brushed the edges of one of the gloves.
Yami frowned. "If you're trying to make me admit that I bought this just for you—yes. Which is why we're never talking about this to anyone, ever."
Close enough. With his fears allayed, Mokuba turned his mind to the focus on the present. "Just for me, huh?" At least the thought was romantic.
He decided that Yami deserved to feel a little appreciated. The torture of a consistent blush was something Yami was unlikely to subject himself to willingly again anytime soon.
Without much warning, Mokuba reached over to run his hand from the edges of Yami's gloves to the fingertips. Once there, he gently pulled the defensive arms apart from each other, then away. Yami's chest exposed, he didn't waste time dragging his fingers across the fabric, over the lining and down to the hem. The material felt expensive, thick and sturdy. He moved slowly, sure to stop and wait for the longing to cross Yami's face before he continued.
It didn't take much for Yami's breaths to become heavier, for muscles to tense underneath Mokuba's touch. That was one advantage to being in charge; he knew the signs. In a few moments, Yami's back would arch just enough to be straight and he would roll his shoulders.
Watching his face, Mokuba could tell that he was thinking: wondering whether this moment would turn into an impromptu scene. When the lines weren't clearly drawn in the sand, Yami got nervous. He wasn't sure how to behave, wasn't sure whether he was doing the right thing. It was a vulnerability that Mokuba had exploited in the past.
A smile crossed his face at the thought. He couldn't help it.
Yami licked his lips. "I..." he coughed and cleared his throat, "I wasn't sure what you had planned today. But whatever it is, I'll keep these on. If you wanted to go out for dinner or something, I'll wear these underneath whatever else."
An open invitation. Mokuba was sure that there was nothing more that Yami wanted in this moment than to be taken advantage of. His hand slipped down to the garters, and Yami gasped. The smile grew.
It occurred to Mokuba that he hadn't decided. In fact, he didn't think they would be doing much of anything. He wasn't a fan of forcing anyone to do what they didn't like, and Yami had made his position clear. In the days leading up to Valentine's, neither of them had spoken about it.
The idea of having that expected of him was frustrating. Pulling his hands away and back to his own lap, Mokuba frowned.
Always the initiator. Yami was the more submissive of the two of them, but Mokuba never asked to be in charge. Their agreement was just that. He was only obliging out of kindness.
"I actually hadn't planned anything. I know how you feel about this sort of stuff so I wasn't going to bother."
"Mm." Yami closed his eyes, trying to soak up the remains of whatever their contact had roused.
It was cute, and in spite of himself Mokuba leaned in to kiss the side of Yami's temple. Immediately after, he cursed himself. It was so hard to stop himself from being the aggressor. What reason would Yami have to pursue him if he was always acting first?
"Well, was there anything you wanted to do?"
As difficult as it was to suppress his irritation at the situation, Mokuba prevailed. For once, he preferred to not be the guiding hand. If Yami didn't have any ideas, they just wouldn't leave the house. "Not particularly. I haven't thought about it."
Opening his eyes, their gazes met and Yami replied, "Now that's surprising. You usually plan dates weeks in advance."
Nothing Mokuba wanted to say would have been an acceptable response. So he kept quiet. After a few moments of silence, Yami stood. "I think I have an idea if you're up for heading out." He didn't wait for a reply. "I'll go get dressed." Yami looked less than content with a lack of direction, and there wouldn't be any forthcoming.
They were at an impasse. Mokuba was determined to be just as stubborn. In the meantime, he would offer a distraction for both of them.
"Hm. Wait."
The idea of that exquisite lingerie being covered up was a little saddening. In public, Yami tended to be a little braver - the less he knew about the person he was dealing with, the less he tended to care about their opinion. If the two of them stayed at home, it was very likely that Mokuba could watch him blush all night. It was a very appealing possibility.
"I want to look at it a bit more."
Although the scowl and cross of his arms belied his true feelings on the matter, he did stand still. Mokuba shifted to sit in the chair proper, where Yami had been, and made sure to focus on his face for a little longer than necessary. It was enough to make him look away, his cheeks an intense shade of pink as Mokuba studied the rest of him.
The lace pattern seemed to have three layers: a thin, sheer fabric, a thicker crosshatch overlay and then embroidered roses with curly, fancy stems. Leaves, jutting out, were swirling outlines that connected the flowers to each other. The pattern itself began nearly halfway down Yami's chest on the fitted cami. The garment clung loosely as it fell down to his waist, just over the top of the panties. It covered most of the garter. Between Yami's legs, there was a bit of a bulge, the material straining against what Mokuba realized was a quickly forming erection.
Yami liked being watched, he remembered.
That garter tapered down into straps that led further down, a single clasp on each thigh holding the stockings in place. There was nothing special about them but Mokuba wanted to see a little more squirming. He stared at the pale, soft skin for several seconds.
When he traveled the path back up to Yami's face, the blush splayed across it was somehow more intense.
"Why is this so embarrassing for you?" Mokuba couldn't help but grin. They'd done lots of what could be called 'shameful' things together, much worse than any sort of girly costume.
Although Yami answered the question, he refused to look Mokuba in the eye. "I don't normally dress like a woman to be considered desirable. Wouldn't you be embarrassed?"
The thought merited consideration. Around Yami specifically, Mokuba couldn't picture himself being or feeling squeamish about much of anything. He'd seen Yami in such compromising positions, been depended on to provide things that many would have found off-putting or even disgusting to some degree... Whether he had asked for it or not, he was usually in control. There was a certain rush of confidence that came with that. His authority being challenged was very unlikely. Yami could joke and heckle as long as he wanted, but it wouldn't change the truth.
"Not in front of you, no."
Yami's fists clenched in retaliation, and his blush seemed to grow a little more intense. "... Can I get dressed now?"
"Sure." Mokuba got up, too. If they were going out, he couldn't be seen in his loungewear.
Things were silent at first as they rummaged for clothes. Out of the corner of his eye, Mokuba watched Yami pick through a few things. It was strange to have such neutrality between them in a situation like this. When they were doing a scene together, Yami was very different. Their roles and the rules were defined. Mokuba had to regulate everything: activities, punishments, actions, reactions... not to mention Yami's feelings in addition to his own. He had to be attuned to every detail and ready to assess them all at a moment's notice. Even something as small as a misspoken word would indicate a need to take drastic action.
But right now, Yami was himself. Struggling to keep a cool head about it all, perhaps, but the rest was there. His trademark certainty, cheeky attitude, flirtatious demeanor and stubborn nature; all checked. Even as Mokuba watched, there was no hesitation as he picked out an outfit. He moved as though no one was watching, as though he hadn't been about to collapse under a single gaze just moments ago. Yami wriggled into a pair of jeans with ease, though he was careful not to chafe the lace as he pulled them up.
"Not too restricting, is it?" Mokuba asked him. "It looks uncomfortable."
Yami flashed a smile. "It is." He very quickly donned a slim, black sleeveless shirt sporting the slogan 'Bitch, pls', and left the room without another word.
Rolling his eyes at the dramatics, Mokuba stripped down and pondered his own options. He wanted to keep his expectations low, but it was hard not getting excited. Yami was taking him out. Sort of. Chill, he cautioned himself. The last thing he needed was to get entangled in small details. No fretting over what to wear. For once he took his own advice and threw on a pair of dark jeans and a crisp, white button up. It was neutral and didn't take a lot of effort to find.
Waiting with keys in hand, Yami went for the stairs as soon as Mokuba entered the den again, presumably to start his grandfather's old truck. Not driving was another surprise and he followed like a puppy being taunted with treats.
This is a treat.
Mokuba knew better than to ask where they were going. The two of them bounced and jittered in the car, and he tried to keep his curiosity in check. Domino was pretty well mapped out in his head, but he didn't want to take a guess at where they were headed and ruin the surprise. Yami didn't offer any hints or any conversation really. Mokuba figured he was too afraid of giving the answer away.
Their destination appeared to be ...a parking garage near downtown Domino. If Mokuba remember this place correctly, it was near the university. He'd been in the area several times to see Jou and Anzu, but other than a few foreign bars and clubs he couldn't remember there being much of anything else in the area. Yami swiped them in (with, Mokuba assumed, was Yuugi's student ID) and drove past several floors to the roof. It was nearly deserted. Only one other car had dared to park up on the fifth floor.
"So, we have a few options," Yami said as he put the truck in park. "You've been on the campus before. There are a few places we can sit and eat. My treat, this time." He folded his arms. "Personally I'm all for heading to one of the parties going on tonight but I have a feeling that's not going to cut it this time."
Shaking his head, Mokuba confirmed his thoughts. "No, it won't." Yami had always been big on dancing and partying. He wanted a little more substance this time around.
"I thought so. Well, we can go to one of the bookstores and look for something interesting together."
Reading was not currently on Mokuba's list of turn-ons. "I stare at paperwork all day. This is not my idea of a good time."
"Yeah, but that's shitty KaibaCorp mail. These are real books. Ones that you can pick according to your interests. Not be force fed by your brother."
It was hard suppressing a laugh. "This is what just happened: We're sitting in your grandpa's car at a college campus while you're wearing women's lingerie and talking about Seto. I never thought that even two of those things would ever been happening at the same time."
Yami smirked. "I'm glad I'm still able to surprise you. And that brings me to the last suggestion: we sit here for thirty minutes until the sun sets and just talk." Somehow that was the most surprising idea of all. Yami talking? As in opening up to say things about himself?
If Mokuba hadn't just heard the suggestion with his own ears he never would have believed it came out of Yami's mouth in the first place. He decided to take the bait. "And what on earth would we talk about?"
"What about you not wanting to admit I'm sexy as hell in this getup?" Fumbling through his pockets, Yami fished out a box of cigarettes. "You mind?" he asked.
Just for once, Mokuba decided to make this a little more difficult. "Yes, I do."
Two eyebrows questioned the answer, but ultimately Yami did sheathe the box back into his jeans. "...I don't know what that's about, but alright."
Today was Valentine's Day and Mokuba reserved the right to be a bit of a brat. "I don't feel like tasting tobacco."
As much as he wanted to deny it, this wasn't the most terrible thing Yami could have thought of. Everything besides the partying had been a pretty decent suggestion. Though the weather was a little chilly, the car would stay warm for a while, and the garage had an excellent view. They were pretty isolated.
"Seriously, though - what do you want to talk about?"
There was a pause before Yami answered. "What would you have wanted to do today, if you decided to plan?"
That was a good question. Part of the reason Mokuba hadn't bothered was because he wasn't altogether sure that there was any couples event that would have been satisfactory. There was no fun in doing anything if both of them couldn't enjoy it. On the other hand, the typical things like dinner and movies were things that they did already. It would have had to have been something special. Most of the time, Yami as content to hang out with friends or stay to himself.
Being happy on his own was a trait that Mokuba envied. Seto was much the same and things seemed to have worked out for both of them.
"...I actually don't know," Mokuba shrugged. "I have to admit that I couldn't think of anything you would have liked." Aside from the obvious.
Yami read his mind. "Other than just staying in bed all day, you mean." He winked devilishly.
This wasn't the sort of conversation that Mokuba had been thinking of. It seemed that he was being made to spill all of his thoughts instead. "You keep yourself all locked up, though." That much was true. Finding anything out about Yami was a pain in the ass. Most of what he knew had been admitted in the middle of arguments or at points of vulnerability. When they were at their best, it didn't seem that conversations like these were common between them.
Mokuba didn't want to admit that he didn't know much about Yami, not after so much time had passed. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Sure, a fuckbuddy-turned-boyfriend was probably not the most typical way to start a relationship. But some part of him had hoped they would have grown closer without so much effort. He wanted this to work.
There were good reasons for Yami's caution. The emotions associated with his memories were volatile and could sway him in dangerous directions. It was frightening, but Mokuba was more than willing to take on the task of being a capable support system. Right now, the only person capable of that was Yuugi. And that... complicated things.
Those concerns were not well oriented to the holiday.
"I do, sometimes," Yami agreed. Then he added, "I'll admit that I'm a little worried, if you'll forgive me for ruining the mood."
"About what?"
"Pushing you too far, mostly. I ask for a lot. Anyway, you not having plans sets off an alarm for me. Things like that shouldn't be ignored. Which is why I asked if you wanted to talk." Yami seemed serious about the sentiment. His left hand found itself quite nonchalantly resting on Mokuba's knee. The touch was gentle.
Mokuba decided to think carefully about his answer.
Yami wasn't finished. "I've made a lot of mistakes with ...other people. I would prefer to avoid more. You've done a lot to help me."
It was Mokuba who was trying to get his mistakes under control. At this point he didn't know whether making a big deal out of this was something he wanted, or if that was the root of the problem. What if he was just spoiled? He had never spoken to Yami about the feelings he had and it didn't make sense to punish anyone not knowing his private thoughts.
"It's... It's fine. I didn't mean to worry you. Guess I was trying to take the path of least resistance."
Smirking, Yami shook his head. "I don't always make that easy. Like you've heard a million times by now, I'm sure, I don't do the romance stuff well. But I'm great at following directions. I think the least I could do is give you what you want sometimes."
With most of the day gone, he wanted to spend the rest of the day in good spirits. They could talk about this later. "Is that why you decided to dress up today?"
"The look on your face was worth it." Yami made a show of leaning close, unzipping his shirt low enough for the white undergarments to peek into view. His face flushed red.
There was something transfixing about it, that much was for sure.
"Come here," Yami added, nearly climbing into the passenger's seat.
There wasn't much room for argument. Hands cupped Mokuba's chin roughly and pulled him in for a kiss. They fumbled for a while, trying to find a comfortable position for their bodies but once they settled in - Yami sitting half on the middle partition, legs stretched over Mokuba's lap - their embrace quickly became sloppy and wet. Yami was voracious, as usual. One of his hands worked themselves into dark hair, holding Mokuba in place as his tongue barreled through. The other gripped and tugged at their clothes, creating an opening to slip through and run over flesh.
We should have stayed at home, Mokuba told himself. It'd be too difficult to fuck in the car.
Their lips separated with an audible smack. "Why did we leave, again?" Yami was two for two so far as clairvoyance was concerned.
Mokuba chuckled between pants. "You wanted to take me out."
"Right. I regret that now, I think. Staying in bed is always a good plan." He leaned in again, planting a wet kiss on Mokuba's neck. "I always find it hard to keep my hands off of you."
The trend wasn't new. Yami had always been a sexual person and, from the way Mokuba had heard it, he was like this with all of his partners. He held a very dangerous sort of energy, and it had gotten him in trouble more than once. Gotten both of them in trouble, in fact.
But he held his tongue about that. No use ruining a perfectly good make-out session.
Resting on Mokuba's chest, Yami didn't make any other moves. "We were going to talk," he said, then shifted a little. "I didn't mean to distract from that."
When he felt Yami's fingers push against his, Mokuba thought he was dreaming. But they found the openings between and laced themselves in. In all of the time that they'd ever been together he couldn't recall a moment quite like this one. A warm, bright feeling pushed itself up into his chest and he couldn't have kept from smiling if he wanted.
Another few minutes passed before he was asked, "Can we stay until it gets dark? ...I like sunsets."
Something new. Again. "Sure, Yami."
"Then we can go home and have sex, right?"
This time, Mokuba did roll his eyes. But he wouldn't deny it; for all of his fussing and pouting, staying at home may have been just as good for any of the other dates he'd had. What did it matter if Yami wasn't romantic, if they could still have moments like this? His heart was thumping just as fast, his temperature was just as high, and he felt just as good. Yami had noticed something about him was off, even if he hadn't been vocal about it immediately after. It was nice to know that, even if he should have said something, in this case he didn't have to.
"Yes. Definitely. But only if you keep the lingerie on."
He didn't look down to check but he was pretty sure that Yami was blushing. Especially when he didn't receive an answer, but a nod instead.
"I think," Mokuba added, his free hand running across one of Yami's legs, "I like it after all."