Title: Demon Dreams

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Characters: Yami no Malik, Ryou Bakura, Hiroto Honda, Anzu Mazaki, Shizuka Kawaii

Prompt: #76 Who?

Word Count: 3,007

Chapter: 6/100

Rating: PG-13 I guess, for mild sexual content

Summary: Over this town, dirt's on the ground, I follow your course, of doors left ajar, to try to find out, who you really are.

Author's Notes: Warnings: Yaoi, AU, Supernatural, songfic, Yami no Malik will be referred to as "Mariku" here.

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! to Kazuki Takahashi and the lyrics are Roxette's "Wish I could fly".

"I dreamed I could fly, out in the blue, over this town, following you," a young man with waist-long, silver hair sang lowly, walking down the floor and into the kitchen. He got himself a glass of water, his bare feet making tapping noises on the tiles. "over the trees, subways and cars. I'd try to find out, who you really are."

He paused, turning around to look out of the window. He had had strange dreams for a few years now, always about the same stranger. He never got a good look at him, but he knew that the person was male because he had a deep voice, which made shivers run down his spine. His hair always seemed to shine golden and his eyes were a deep color of... something between blue and red. He wasn't sure about that.

The male's most astonishing, most distinct trait, however, were his appendages. Two ivory, delicate horns spiraled up just behind his bangs, his hair apparently following their example, and a dark, purple mustered tail sprouted somewhere from the small of his back. Sometimes he had dark, leathery wings, too. In the dreams, the demon – for what else could he be? - beckoned him to follow and would then fly over the roof tops. Each time, he tried to follow him, white-feathered wings sprouting from his own back, and each time he crashed into something or other.

Sipping on his water, the youth leant against the kitchen counter. The moonlight was drawing patterns on the black and white checkered tiles... Sometimes he wondered what those dreams meant. They had to symbolise something, it would be the only logical explanation. Was he looking for someone? Did the demon resemble someone he knew? Why would he run after a demon? He didn't know the answer to any of those questions. And, he thought amusedly, I'll probably never know.

While the dreams were always similar, there were some major differences, too. The surroundings changed, the content differed, and their roles switched. The only true resemblances were the demon and the flight over the roofs at the end. But while the setting was different every time, too, it was also always night. With a smile, the young man put the now empty water glass into the sink and made his way back to his bed, still reminiscing about his dreams.

The first time he had dreamt of the demon was when he had just turned fifteen years old. Because of his father's job they had moved to a new city recently, and the silver-haired boy was adjusting to his new life and the new school. He had always been a bit of an outsider with his pale complexion and unnaturally fair hair, but this time he had an even harder time to make friends. He was used to it by now, ever since his mother died when he was eight years old, his father and he moved around a lot. He quickly learned to make friends fast and to not let them too close to his heart, for he wouldn't stay for long, either.

It was in those tough times that he first saw the demon in his dreams. At first, he thought it was just a weird dream, but ever since it returned in one version or another. Then he wrote it up to wishing for some friends, since they always turned out not to be true friends, and explained it all away in a very psychological way. Still the dreams kept coming, and he got used to them over time. Sometimes, he grew worried when he didn't have at least one demon dream in a week.

He could still remember the very first one, as if he'd dreamt it just yesterday. He was walking along the empty streets of his latest hometown, the wind was blowing and the autumn leaves whirling around his lone figure. He was clad warmly, with a brown jacket, a light blue scarf and matching gloves. The wind was whispering to him, urging him on and into the park. He wandered there aimlessly, up and down the small lake and came to a stop on the wooden bridge.

While he was staring down into the water, looking at his own image mirrored there, a light breeze blew some leaves onto the surface, causing it to ripple. When the water stilled again, however, there was another image next to his. The demon stood there, he too was clad in warm fall clothing. At first, he didn't notice the horns or the wings. He turned hastily, and there he stood in all his glory, the demon, face only inches away from his – and he chuckled.

"Come and find me, my angel," the demon whispered huskily, stepping backwards and spreading his wings. In a matter of seconds he had taken to the air, while the silver-haired man watched him, stunned. Then, as if on instinct, his own silver-white feathered wings unfurled, and he followed after the fast disappearing demon. He chased after him, over the trees, the roofs of the city and cars, which were rushing beneath them on the highway.

Soon, he lost sight of the stranger and landed on the closest house, which happened to be the building in which his appartement lay. A tune was playing in the background, one he would shortly after associate with the demon dreams. Hovering down to his room's window, he slipped in and went to bed unnoticed, where he woke up as soon as he had lain down in his sleep.

Sometimes the dreams seemed so realistic that he wondered, if maybe they really did happen, and he just forgot that in the mornings. If he was sleepwalking – or sleep flying as it was – and his subconscious knew that all along. Some days, especially when he awoke to an open window, which he was sure he had closed before going to bed, he thought it was real. Then others he wrote it up to coincidences and incidents, luck and his imagination.

When he was eighteen, the young man decided to let his father travel on alone. He wanted to finally settle somewhere, anywhere, and his decision fell on Domino City. A small appartement was easily rented, and with some financial support from his father and a job at the book shop at the corner he managed just fine. He got himself a place at Domino University and found some friends.

A year later his father died in an accident. Apparently, he had drunk too much sake, so instead of driving he went home by foot. So far so good, however, in his intoxicated state he stumbled and fell down a bridge. It was on the same day his mother died all those years ago in a car crash, and the same day his sister died on the way to the hospital when he was about three years old. The same night, he had a very intense demon dream once more.

He was a prince of a long forgotten land, and he was supposed to meet with the prince of their enemy's. The truce between their two kingdoms was fragile at best, and war was likely to break out soon. That was why it was so important to be nice and polite to his guest, a lot was depending on that meeting. He was waiting in the meeting chamber for the other and was very surprised when he realized that the other prince was the demon. His demon.

In some dreams he was aware that it was just that – a dream and unreal. Despite that, he could never bring himself to wake up, nor did he really want to. The dreams were nice, in their own special way, and he loved the thrill of the hunt and the feeling of wind under his wings, supporting him mid-air, when it shouldn't be scientifically possible. And so he followed the other prince over sand and small stone houses, out into the desert.

It was in that dream that the demon called him by his name for the first time. "Ryou," he murmured, "Come and catch me, my angel, my prince, my Ryou." The husky tone sent shivers down his spine and goosebumps down his arms. He doubled his efforts and caught up to the other just as the sun started rising. And when it did, it was always the last moment the dream would end. So the young man called out to his demon in desperation.

"Wait!" he panted softly, exhausted. "At least tell me your name!"

The demon turned around, a smirk firm on his face. And then his lips parted, a word forming on them, like the breeze of the air, slowly making its way to Ryou's ear, soft and low, husky and ensnaring, it almost reached him, only a second, a moment more... He woke up, the dream imprinted on his mind forever. And still no name for his demon.

He had been very disappointed that day, and since then he hadn't gotten a chance to ask again. The demon was always careful to stay a step ahead of him, still in reach, but never close enough. Not close enough at all. Ryou could feel an inner desperation, a feeling of longing for the demon. Those nights were the most painful to wake up from, just to realize it had all been just a dream. It was one of those nights, and he dreamed of his demon once more, the song he had hummed before guiding him in the dream landscape.

"Over this town, the dirt's on the ground." A flap of silver white wings. "I'd follow your course, of doors left ajar, to try to find out, who you really are," he murmured and flapped his wings once more, his eyes tracing the lone figure jumping from roof to roof. He followed after, never letting his 'prey' out of his sight. The wind rustled his feathers and blew through his hair teasingly. Suddenly, the demon stopped.

Ryou landed softly across the building his demon was perched atop of. It was an infamous club in Domino, he noticed. The red sign was blinking merrily at him, the name "Hell's Lair" fitting the demon crouching above it well. His white wings folded as he stared across the alley, the first rays of sunlight tinging the sky red, which mixed with the blue and caused streaks the same colour as the demon's eyes.

"I'm waiting for you, Ryou."

He woke up with a start, his heart beating erratically. When he closed his eyes he could still see the demon's face, the smirk playing around his lips. Ryou blushed at the thought and decided a cold shower was in order. His thoughts were still clouded by sleep, and his dream haunted him in detail. When he came out of the bath, hair still damp despite the hair-dryer, and a towel hanging around his shoulders, the telephone rang.

It was one of his friends, Honda, who asked if he wanted to visit some club with their friends that night. He agreed absentmindedly, pouring himself a glass of milk. While he wrote down the address Honda was reading out for him, he wondered what his latest dream might have meant. He sipped his milk and gathered the supplies to cook himself breakfast. Ryou turned the radio on, recognizing the song immediately.

"-following you

I'd fly over rooftops, the great boulevards

To try to find out, who you really are,

Who you really are

I wish I could fly now

I wish I could fly now..."

Clad in tight-fitting, white leather pants and a sky blue, sleeveless v-neck top, Ryou made his way to the club his friends wanted to visit. Lost in thought, he arrived quickly at their assigned meeting place. He glanced around, but it appeared that he was the first one there. Leaning against the brick wall of the building across the club, he casually took in his surroundings. They seemed vaguely familiar, and while he was still wondering why, his gaze halted on a red blinking sign announcing the name of the club.

His heart stopped for a beat.

When it started again, it was pumping faster than normal.

The sign read "Hell's Lair". For a moment Ryou could swear he saw the demon perched atop it again, but that image vanished as quickly as it came. While he stared open-mouthed at his surroundings, he didn't notice a man with spiky blond hair enter the club with a group of people. He was still too busy with the strange coincidence of his dream and his current situation that he didn't even notice his friends' arrival.

It took them five minutes of waiting in the queue before they were admitted inside. The club was very popular with Domino's youth and as such was rather packed. Ryou and his friends fought their way through to the bar, where they got themselves some drinks. Soon, however, Anzu and Shizuka, the two girls of their little clique, insisted that they go to the dance floor. He was tugged along by the excited girls, still, he was preoccupied with thoughts of his dream.

While he danced for a while, he thought he felt someone staring at him, but whenever he looked around, he couldn't figure out who. Now and then he thought he saw a streak of similar blond hair, or those endless eyes... he chalked it up to coincidence, since his demon wasn't real. Was he? Again he thought he saw a familiar face. As the man he was staring at glanced at him, Ryou was struck by the familiarity once more. Just in that moment a new song started, and the stranger smirked at him. He knew that tune, he was sure of that. The stranger started making his way over to him.

"Halfway through the night..."

Only a few people were between them now, but they were still holding eye contact. Ryou felt stunned, he couldn't remember how to move for the life of him. Blond, spiky hair, bronze skin and those eyes... He glanced up at the hair but saw no horns, then down at the stranger's ass but no tail, making him feel stupid for checking... and then he stood before him, grinning like he won a prize- The music slowly registered in his mind as the stranger's hips started swaying.

"I wake up in a dream..."

Ryou couldn't help but feel the rhythm in his blood and started dancing himself. He turned 180 degrees and pressed his back up against the stranger, surprised by his own boldness. The other wrapped arms around him from behind, and they continued to sway to the music, rubbing against each other. It all felt so surreal and in a strange way it reminded Ryou of his demon dreams. He couldn't think straight and felt like he would wake up any moment now. However, this was real, and this stranger was really there, pressed up against him... and whispering into his ear.

"Echoes in my head..."

The voice caused Ryou to freeze. It was the same voice as his, as his demon's, but that couldn't be,"Come and find me, my angel." The demon's voice echoed in his head, husky and playfully and the same as the stranger's, "Come and catch me, my angel, my prince, my Ryou." But how could that be? The demon wasn't real and the stranger... or was he dreaming again?"I'm waiting for you, Ryou." No, it couldn't be- he whirled around to face him because he shouldn't be-

Only then did he notice that the stranger had turned away and was making his way through the crowd. Without a glance back towards his friends, he hurried to follow. The crowd was thick, and he lost trail of his target soon, however, he didn't give up. A streak of blond hair had him turning and changing direction, a glimpse of bronze skin made him shove his way through the dancers. Mumbled excuses left his mouth absentmindedly, eyes ever searching for the other. Then he left the dance ground and people behind him. Stopping, he glanced around, seeking a trace of the stranger...

"...of doors left ajar..."

And he was running again, into the corridor, following a whisper only he seemed to hear. The music was pounding dimly in his ears, but he didn't even notice. A streak of blond further down had him turning around the corner, another door slowly swinging shut was thrown open in his hasty search. He crossed the backstage place, followed by curses as he ran over a technician there. He didn't care, only his demon matter, that stranger that was his demon, he was so close, just another turn and another door...

And there he stood. Proud and tall, the epitome of manliness. It made Ryou's knees grow weak with anticipation, but he pushed those feelings away, striding forwards to meet his prey. It had taken so long to find him, the demon of his dreams. Now that he was standing before him, Ryou couldn't believe that the hunt had ended, the search was finished. He stepped before the blond, their eyes meeting and never leaving each other again. Mere inches were between them, but what registered first was a sudden knowledge that had been eluding him.

"Mariku," Ryou whispered hoarsely. It was like a veil was lifted from his eyes. "Your name is Mariku."

Their lips met in a passionate kiss again and Ryou held onto the stranger's top with one hand, while the other entangled itself in Mariku's hair. One of the other's hands were at Ryou's neck, holding him close, while the other groped his ass. And as they kissed Ryou didn't wonder about the something he could feel slide up the backside of his legs, nor did he think about the solid mass he could feel hidden in the mess of blond hair.

R&R

On this occasion, I'd like to thank all my reviewers and people subscribing this collection. Special thanks goes to ladygodess who inspired me to write this. Go ahead and read her take on this LJ challenge "Fragments" (it's YBxM).