I. Am. So. Sorry.

Ok, here's how it went: I had LOADS of ideas for the sequel and couldn't wait to write it down, but I didn't have the time to because I was having my exams in late December. So I put the fic on hold until I finally found the time to write something and then… my mind happened to be a complete tabula rasa. All inspiration and will to continue the fic was gone. When I finally finished the fic life got hectic again and I forgot about it… sorry?

I want to thank everyone who read the first part though, and a special thanks to LilRachity for helping me reviewing this fic: I hope you'll like this second chapter too!

a.N: Third person narration through the whole chapter (Yes, it's a miracle. No, it's not going to happen again)

The first thing that Yami noticed when his eyelids slowly fluttered open was that his head spun. A lot.

It had to be his head because there was no way the pictures that hung upon the wall were spinning around like crazy, unless he had awakened during an earthquake. Yami rapidly grabbed the backrest of the sofa, clasping the fabric between his fingers like his life depended on it. No, it was completely still. No earthquake.

The young man sighed in relief and leant back into the softness of the cushion, bringing a hand to his head in a desperate attempt to stop its spinning. The young man's first impulse was to close his eyes again and let himself fall into Morpheus' warm embrace, but he was too stubborn to cede to sleep again without even discovering the reason of his headache.

Slumber fogged irises roamed their surroundings and Yami finally realized the couch he had fall asleep on wasn't his own. Maybe he should have noticed that small detail sooner, since his couch was green and the one he was laying on was red, but he blamed his lack of attention on the foggy state of his mind. Sleepiness, time (a rapid glance at the clock revealed it was 8 in the frigging morning!) and a visible and palpable hangover didn't exactly allow Yami to be at the best of his mental faculties.

Hangover, he said? Wait, what did he do yesterday night? Whose house was this?

Panic rushed through Yami's veins long enough for him to get off the couch in a rush and suddenly take a couple of wobbly steps back, hissing in pain. His head bumped like it was a drum, protesting against the quick movements. When the pain ceased a bit, Yami finally opened his eyes. Okay, his mind instructed, let's go back to step one: where was he?

Much to Yami's luck, the photo of a grinning spiky haired five year old he spotted on the shelf above the couch left little doubt about the owner of the house. For the second time that morning, Yami sighed in relief: the familiarity of Yugi's house was something his eyes welcomed happily.

Now, time to move to step two: why was he at Yugi's house?

While his feet lazily carried the young man to the kitchen, led by said young man's grumbling stomach, Yami tried to recall the events of yesterday night and how Yugi could fit in any of them, but he just couldn't. There was this huge black void in his memories – right between the moment he had almost thrown Bakura and Otogi out of his apartment, which he distinctively remembered had been around 2 in the morning, and the moment he had woken up on Yugi's couch.

The metallic sound of pots and pans was both a curse for Yami's throbbing head and a pleasant surprise for his heart: Yugi was at home. Maybe he would know what had happened to Yami the night before, seeing that the young man had spent the night on his couch. Finally reaching his destination, Yami lowered the kitchen door's handle and stepped inside.

Yugi was giving his back to the newcomer and apparently hadn't noticed him either, because he didn't turn around to say hello nor had he stopped doing what he was doing, which was making breakfast. It was much to Yami's luck again that the violet-eyed man hadn't turned around because there was no way Yami could see Yugi's frown or the angry way he was breaking the eggs in the frying pan or the violent way he was stirring the rice.

Yugi was angry indeed. Some hours before, he had actually been furious. But it was slowly fading away and now he was just angry. With Yami, of course.

At the mere mention of Yami, Yugi crunched the shell of one of the eggs in his palm, That idiot. Who did he think he was? To storm in into his house at two in the morning, babbling nonsense about him wanting to kiss Yugi and win his heart and then falling asleep just under Yugi's eyes? And body. Yugi blushed the smallest bit at that, but he quickly shoved the redness away from his cheeks. He was angry, not flustered, he repeated to himself. That scarlet-eyed idiot had used him to play his own game and get what he wanted, and then he had fallen asleep like nothing had happened! Was Yugi really so insignificant? Yami could at least pretend that he cared, just the smallest bit, just responding to the kiss or even shoving Yugi away…

The young man had never been so humiliated in his entire life. Okay… maybe he had been, that time when Jounouchi "accidentally" pushed a completely dressed Yugi inside the females' swimming pool had probably been worse – the girls were in the middle of a swimming lesson! But he wasn't going to let this kiss thing go by so easily anyway.

Yugi energetically chopped his omelet to small cubic pieces, the steel of the blade shining wickedly in the morning sun. Was he such a boring person that Yami had fallen asleep on him? Weren't they friends, or more? You can't fall asleep on your best friend, it's not a… friendly thing to do, and Yami was usually really, exquisitely friendly. So what could it have been? And above all, had Yami been serious about the kiss in the first place or was it all some sick prank he had planned with Bakura and that other black-haired guy whose name Yugi could never seem to remember? What was it again: Rya-, Ryug-, Ruyj- Whatever!

Stupid, little, idiot of a midget. Yeah, Yugi was short as well, he knew. But that didn't change the fact that Yami barely reached 160 cm. Yugi had never cared about his or Yami's height before, but now he had all the intentions of giving his mind blanche card with indulging in Yami's defaults and flaws. Oh, he really couldn't wait to face the other two idiots as well, but Yami deserved first place on his suspects list and Yugi was determined to draw out some explanations from the red-eyed teen.

The traitor, the sick little-

A yawn suddenly stopped Yugi's train of thoughts. A yawn that wasn't his and that came right from behind Yugi's back.

"G'morning Yugi," came Yami's sleepy voice.

Yugi froze in his spot but didn't turn around and kept chopping his meal into microscopic pieces. His omelet was more and more resembling the look of some egg-flavored baby food.

Yami tilted his head, a genuine expression of puzzlement in his eyes, which Yugi of course couldn't see. The young man stepped closer to his friend, a sudden desire to wrap his arms around Yugi's frame and ask him what was wrong, which Yami blamed on his post-drunken state of mind. So he gulped his desire down and resolved for maintaining a certain distance between them.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

How could he do that? How could he sound oh-so innocent and nice after yesterday night? Did Yami suffer from a rare form of selective amnesia or what? Had he been that shit-headed? Yugi put his knife down, the blade was starting to look too much like a huge temptation and he didn't want to cede to anger. No, Yugi was calm, perfectly calm. The two of them were just going to have a normal talk, like mature, reasonable people.

"Hmpf" he grunted in response. Yeah, almost perfectly calm.

Secure distance from his secret love interest be damned, Yami came closer to Yugi, now genuinely worried other than puzzled. Was Yugi angry with someone? With him?

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked cautiously, his head giving him another twinge. Damn, why did it hurt so much. "Look, I can't re-"

"Oh no" Yugi answered bitterly, finally turning himself to look at the other man, the back of his hands pressed on the kitchen counter as his back leaned against the piece of furniture. "Not at all." He shook his head.

"Oh, thank god, for a moment I thought-"

"It was more about something you didn't do," the younger man spat.

"Wait, what-"

"Oh, c'mon Yami," Yugi mocked. "Don't play innocent with me. We both know this isn't your style, and it's not going to work anyway."

"Okay, now wait. Yesterday night I was with Bakura and Otogi-"

"Ah yes, that's the name – Otogi," Yugi mumbled to himself. "I can never seem to remember it…" Yami of course didn't get what Yugi was talking about and so decided to ignore the younger man and go on with his attempt to recall the accidents of the previous night.

"Then, around 2am I threw them both out of my house because we had a fight or something, I don't remember, I was drunk-"

"Yes," Yugi agreed nonchalantly "Yes, you were."

"Thank you for reminding me," Yami rolled his eyes. He was already having one of the worst hangovers in his lifetime, which was weird since he didn't remember drinking that much. Plus, he also had some mysterious amnesia. Yugi could at least show some sympathy… "So it was 2am and I…" What did he do next?

"You decided to play around with my doorbell and pay a visit to dear little Yugi." The violet-eyed man filled the gap in Yami's memory.

"I did what?"

"Yami, are you kidding me? You slept on my couch, woke up in my house, stepped in my kitchen. How do you think it all happened – you magically flew over my roof and climbed yourself down the chimney overnight?"

"I'm not Santa Claus," Yami grumped matter-of-factly.

"Well, no offence but that's a pity." Though Yugi was well aware that it was a huge lie – there was no way in the world he would have exchanged a Yami for a Santa. A cute-sexy-sassy-sneaky-smart headed-red-eyed piece of m- friend, he corrected himself, for an overweight poor-sighted old man who dressed in red and lived in the frigging freezing North Pole? No fucking way. Wait – angry! Yes, Yugi was still angry with Yami for passing out under him, and just to make sure, the younger man shot a glare in Yami's direction.

"But why would I come over to your place if I were drunk?" Yami muttered, trying to recall his lost train of thought. They were just there, knocking at Yami's mind and waiting for the young man to open the door and acknowledge them. "This doesn't-"

"You said you needed my help," Yugi mumbled softly, remembering last night's words.

And I am in dire need of your help.

Drunken, slurred words resonated in the back of Yami's mind. Help… he needed Yugi's help to…

I need your help 'cause there is someone that I like.

Who is it?

This person is special and can always manage to make me smile. The most nicest person in the world.

Yes! Now Yami remembered, and inwardly blushed at the thought of how blunt he had been the previous night. The knocking, the request, the explanation... And then Yugi wanted him to tell him who that person was but Yami did not want to tell Yugi because, well…

"And you promised …" Yami finally muttered, the fog slowly fading away from his intoxicated memories.

"Yes, I promised I would help you," Yugi acknowledged, but the other man shook his head at that, smirking softly if that was even possible.

"No," he denied slowly. "You promised to love me, comfort me, honor and keep me, in sickness and in health; and be faithful to me as long as we both shall live."

Yugi gulped down a squeal. Among all the nonsense they had told each other yesterday night was this all Yami could remember? Now, karma was certainly a sweet amusing thing…

"I never promised such thing!"

Yami seemed lost for the space of a few seconds, almost if weighting his chances and comparing them to his past words.

"But you would, wouldn't you?" It wasn't a tease, Yami's words sounded more like… a plea. Just like the last time he had said them. Because Yami now remembered the reason he had come to Yugi's house in the first place and knew he wouldn't find the courage to confess to Yugi once again if sober, so… he couldn't let last night's words go waste. And he didn't want to.

This time, however, Yugi could not reply that Yami was too drunk to formulate a coherent thought and maybe didn't mean what he said, because now Yami meant every syllable. So Yugi didn't answer and began musing about his emotions and about goddamned last night, all the while staring at the rug beneath the kitchen table, which apparently had become the most interesting thing in the world. The voices in his head were debating whether to forgive Yami and tackle him to the ground or to indulge in pride and turn away from the velvet-eyed young man.

Compromise got in the way, as it always does.

"Yugi doesn't know…" he mumbled, smiling faintly. Because Yugi's mind couldn't think of anything better than to retire into the third person speaking, like it was a wall that could protect him, and resume their silly game of confessions.

"This is not what Yugi said yesterday…" Yami was stepping closer, which distracted Yugi from looking intently at the carpet. He wanted to know how much of last night Yami remembered and how much of it he had… liked, maybe, to what extent he had been sincere. He was looking into his handsome neighbor's eyes almost as if the answer to his questions could lay in the depth of the red and black of his irises. Had he been serious, was he serious even now… was Yugi going to forgive him so easily when Yami could have easily feigned that whole amnesia thing just to get Yugi's attention and be sure that the younger man's intentions in his regards had not changed? Or did Yugi like being angry with Yami as an excuse to hold a grudge and pout a little more and have Yami all for himself the whole morning? As if Yugi was some prize that the other man had to try and get back...

Yugi didn't like to think of himself as a prize, or like an object, but wasn't he doing the same thing with Yami when he thought about stealing him from the world and having him stay in the kitchen, Yugi's kitchen, the whole morning? The whole day? The whole forever? Was that even grammatically correct again?

Maybe…

Yes, that had also been Yugi's answer back then, and apparently Yami remembered, as well as a lot of other things. The man was really a puzzle sometimes…

"You can't really be serious about me marrying you," Yugi chuckled meekly. "Like… right here, right now, completely out of the blue."

"Well, maybe you are taking me a little too literally…" Yami tilted his head, his voice high-pitched at the 'little,' the teasing tone brought a smile on Yugi's lips which Yami mimicked. "I wouldn't want to rush things, you know?" They both chuckled at that.

Yugi turned to the sink and opened the cupboard to collect a couple of empty dishes, which he piled up together, along with the baby-foody omelet. He placed them on the table and turned around again to pick up the rice pot and put it down beside the dishes. He took a seat on the candy-colored stool and made a motion for Yami to follow him so they could have breakfast together. The older man reached for the chopsticks Yugi had forgotten on the kitchen counter and then took a seat next to Yugi.

He was starving, but the mere sight of food made Yami's stomach twist and swirl, meaning it would not have held anything the young man decided to gulp down. Maybe it was for the best though, the rice looked okay but the eggs… well, the mush they had been chopped into made Yami wonder if they had gone raw all over again.

Yugi snickered at seeing the way his friend was toying with the food in his plate, as if the omelet could jump and start devouring Yami at any given second.

"Sorry 'bout that," he smiled, chewing a mouthful of rice. "It's also your fault, though".

"Were you that angry? I mean, these poor eggs had nothing against you…"

Yugi simply shrugged and they both remained silent for a while, chewing and swallowed their breakfast.

"What do you-"

"I'm sorry-"

They broke each other's silence at the same time before Yami smiled and all too theatrically gestured for Yugi to go on.

"You first," he conceded.

"Ladies first," was the younger man's reply.

"You little – I was going to apologize to you but I don't think you'll hear those words from my mouth so soon."

"Wait, what were you apologizing for?" Yugi inquired, but the other man had turned his back at him taking advantage of the way the stool could spin around on itself, and now had his arms crossed on his chest. "Yami?" Yugi half-pleaded, half-laughed. Why was he such a child?

Yami oh-so slowly turned around again and shot Yugi a skeptical look. "I was going to apologize to the eggs for they had to bear your cruel massacre of their jelly, helpless, protein bodies. They didn't deserve your killer instincts."

"No, silly, you said you were going to apologize to me." Yugi repeatedly pressed his index finger against Yami's arm to emphasize his point. "Now, I'm still waiting to hear the why," he inquired more softly.

Back to his full age again, Yami sighed, the most imperceptible shade of red dying his cheekbones in dark pink. "I'm sorry for… passing out last night," he admitted. He expected some witty retort from Yugi but the other man did not interrupt him and was looking at Yami waiting for him to go on and finish his apology properly. With a certain satisfaction maybe. Yami sighed. "I'm sorry… for falling asleep while you were kissing me." Yugi remained silent, still not content about how Yami had formulated his excuses. "Ok, while we were kissing."

"Now, that sounds better," Yugi nodded.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I missed one of the most beautiful things that could happen to me… to us," he mumbled softly. "I was just there and… I'm… "

"Yes," Yugi nodded. "You are stupid."

"As hell." Yami returned the nod. But Yugi smiled softly and took Yami's hand into his own, slowly stroking its surface with both his thumbs. He didn't enjoy Yami's guiltiness per se, he enjoyed the fact that Yami felt guilty, because it meant that it hadn't been all in Yugi's head and that yesterday night had been true. They had both been sincere. And the eggs had unjustly been slaughtered.

Yugi leant his head on Yami's shoulder. "I forgive you," he mumbled, still smiling.

The older of the two silently savored the feeling of Yugi's body against his own, something he wasn't able to recall from the past night's experience. He was still terribly sorry. And terribly embarrassed. He would probably be sorry for a very long time – Yugi enjoyed the situation to much to let it go.

Yami sighed.

"Can I make up for what I did yesterday?"

"For what you did not do yesterday," Yugi specified.

"Yeah, right…" Yami nodded, his eyes on the remains of omelet lying on both his and Yugi's plates.

"Well?" Yugi chirped.

"What?"

"I'm waiting…" And I will pout again if you don't do something, he thought. And I will rip your ribcage open if you dare to fall asleep on me again. This was the exact same thought that crossed Yami's mind as he leaned closer. Cupping Yugi's face with his free hand, he gently pressed his lips against the other man's.

I love them when they do the bickering… I'm sorry for the eggs but I couldn't help it.

This story was so fun to write, I'm having more and more fun lately writing my stories, which is great I guess, but I'm still lazy as hell and can't seem to finish any of them. Well, aside from the short ones like this.

Thank you for reading, I cherish all of your feedback and believe me when I say it IS helpful.