Anywhere you go
We are bound together
I begin where you end
Some things are forever

You complete the heart of me

Day breaks, my heart aches
I will wait for you right here

-Belinda Carlisle, Circle in the Sand

Bakura really didn't know how it had happened. Normally, no one would ever, ever have been able to sneak up on him. And if someone had, he would have been able to nimbly escape that person. He had the hearing of a wolf, and the reflexes of a cat.

Maybe it was because he was concentrating too hard on using Diabound to remove the large stone barrier that blocked the entrance of the tomb that he was attempting to get into. Lately, it seemed he was paying too much attention to Diabound, to make sure that his ka didn't get out of control.

It was the sensible thing to do, really. He did need to be in perfect control of his ka if he was to accomplish his ultimate life goal.

Regardless of how he had allowed it to happen, it didn't change the results. Two guards had managed to sneak up behind him without him being aware in the least, and before he'd even known what was happening, his hands were bound in chains and he was being led away.

He could have reacted then, but perhaps he was simply too shocked. The great Bakura, captured by mere guards? It was just unbelievable!

However, as the guards dragged him roughly and unceremoniously across the desert sand, he soon found that he had no choice but to believe it. Before he knew it, he was bound hand and foot to several other prisoners who were also being held captive by the guards.

"Move!" yelled one of the guards, addressing the line of prisoners.

And the other captives obediently did as they were told. They shuffled forward slowly, obviously reluctantly, but none were displaying any real resistance.

And Bakura was again shocked as his body was jerked forward, forcing him to move along with the other fugitives that he was chained to. Why weren't any of these other men fighting back?

Dazed and uncomprehending, he began moving too, just out of instinct from the constant pull forwards.

But his shock did not last too long. In his line of work- if one could call it that- he couldn't afford to freeze up. And some deep, almost instinctual part of his mind, honed from long experience, activated and brought him back to his senses.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The other prisoners made sounds of protest as they were brought up short. Some stumbled and almost fell backwards.

"Where are you taking us?" demanded Bakura.

One of the guards approached him, sneering.

"Normally, I wouldn't bother to answer the question of a lowly thief such as yourself," stated the guard. "But maybe I will make an example out of you, in case any of the others here decide to open their mouths."

And then the guard reached out and slapped Bakura directly across the face as hard as he could, leaving a reddening hand print.

Bakura rocked back on his heels, not having expected such an attack when he was already chained up. And then he felt the anger and hatred boiling inside him. It emanated from every pore of his body, a slow burn that was steadily building to something immense.

The guard did not seem to notice. He simply continued with his speech. "If you must know, you have all committed crimes against the kingdom, and therefore you are all enemies of our great Pharaoh. You will be brought before him, and-"

And that was it. Bakura's gray eyes began to glow red as his anger welled up, seeming to shove at his insides, making him feel that he would explode if he didn't let it out. And in the present situation, he had absolutely no reason to try to resist letting it out.

The guard must have seen the change in him, for he suddenly ceased speaking and stumbled back several steps, a look of fear and confusion on his face. This did absolutely nothing to dissuade Bakura or create any sympathy within him.

For one last moment, Bakura sounded calm and in control as he turned to the now-terrified guard and whispered darkly, "You have no idea whom you're dealing with."

Then his emotions reached a fever pitch, and his anger seemed to flare out of him. But of course, it was not mere anger, but Diabound which burst forth from him.

His ka swept out across the area in which he was facing, murderous and merciless, instantly killing the guards that stood before him. The bodies of the guards were thrown across the desert like rag dolls, landing in lifeless heaps.

Then Bakura turned to face forwards. He saw the other prisoners in front of him. And Diabound shot out in front of him, towards the other captives.

"Enemies of our great Pharaoh..." The guard's words echoed in the back of his mind.

Diabound swept through the prisoners, and in an instant, it had broken every chain, leaving all of the men completely unharmed. Then Bakura's ka came back towards him, snapping the chains binding his own wrists and ankles, freeing him.

Bakura then felt the familiar pain in his chest which meant that Diabound had slammed back inside of him, returning to its place. Bakura instantly fell to his knees from the exertion of the entire event, not yet used to using his ka so strongly. His eyes then cleared, returning to their normal color of stormy gray, and he knew that Diabound was dormant inside of him again, for the moment.

He recovered quickly and stood up, looking about. The other criminals were milling around and displaying various expressions. Some were looking down at their hands and feet, unable to believe that they had been freed so suddenly. Others were already wandering away with blank looks on their faces, too stunned to absorb what had happened. Others were looking at Bakura fearfully, warily, as if they wondered whether he might attack them next.

Finally, one prisoner broke out of his trance and approached Bakura. "Thank you for freeing us," he said humbly.

"I didn't do it for you," said Bakura. There was a cold, hard edge to his voice. "I did it for my own self-preservation."

"But..." the other man started, a bit taken aback. "You could have killed us along with the guards. Instead, you broke our chains and freed us. Some of the others may not have seen it, but I know what you did."

"None of you have tried to harm me, so I had no reason to kill you. And I don't know what the rest of you have done, but I don't kill without reason," said Bakura. "Besides, you are enemies of the Pharaoh, as am I. That means we're on the same side."

"Still, I owe you a debt of gratitude. We all do," said the man. Others were now turning to listen to their conversation.

Bakura raised his voice so that all the men could hear him. "If any of you want to thank me, then thank me in this way: go free, and make the Pharaoh as miserable as you can!"

Bakura then turned to leave. But another man suddenly rushed after him, calling to him. "Wait! If you want to bring down the Pharaoh, I would be willing to help you. I'm sure many of us would. And gods know your powers would be helpful to us."

"Sorry, I work alone," said Bakura, turning again and beginning to stride off.

He then heard one more voice call after him. "We're out here in the middle of the desert. Where are we to go? What are we to do?"

Irritated, Bakura turned back to face the speaker. "That really isn't my problem."

But most of the men were now looking at him, as if awaiting guidance.

"Oh, Ra! If you are all criminals, I'd think you'd be a little more self reliant!" exclaimed Bakura. "I've already freed you from being brought to the palace, where you would have faced certain death. Is that not enough? Go and do whatever you would have done had you not been captured. I, for one, have someone that I need to get home to."

Bakura winced inwardly at his last comment, which he'd spoken aloud without really thinking. What in Ra's name was he going to tell Mahes about this entire debacle?

But then another voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing Bakura's annoyance to an even higher level.

"So you do have someone." It was the man who had first thanked him, he realized. "I thought you said you worked alone."

"It's complicated!" snapped Bakura. And then he turned his back on the men a final time, walking away quickly without another backwards glance.

If any of the men called after him again, Bakura didn't hear it, because he was too lost in his own thoughts. He hated to admit it, but he really did dread telling Mahes about the entire ordeal. He'd been captured, which he knew would worry Mahes to no end. In addition, he'd killed more people, and Mahes would not be too fond of that.

Of course, he'd been completely justified in the killing. They were palace guards- especially cruel ones, at that- and he would have gone to his death if he hadn't killed them. Also, he had proven to himself that day that he was obviously learning to control Diabound with much more precision, and that could only be a good thing. And though he'd been captured, he'd gotten away quickly, with no real damage. Well, no damage aside from the stinging mark on the side of his face, administered by a now-dead guard who would soon be rotting under the desert sun as he was picked apart by scavengers. Bakura smiled briefly at this thought, but then his mind turned back to how Mahes would react to the events of the day, and his mood darkened again.

He briefly considered simply lying about it- or rather, omitting what had happened. But then Mahes would wonder why he was coming home without any stolen treasures. And why he had a red mark on the side of his face. And-

And there was no real reason to lie to him. He'd never lied to Mahes before, and there was really no sense in starting now. Their partnership worked because Mahes accepted, however grudgingly, that Bakura was doing what he had to. And he'd just have to continue to accept it. Hiding things now wouldn't make things easier in the long run, when the situation was sure to get worse and more dangerous. No, Mahes would just have to deal with it.

With that thought in his mind, he continued on his way home, steeling himself for an argument with Mahes, yet somehow knowing that everything would turn out alright. He smiled again as he thought of the way that Mahes was sure to greet him as soon as he walked in.

So, of course, just when Mahes had started to become a bit more comfortable with Bakura's forays into robbing the tombs of more prestigious people- just when he'd begun to be less worried about Bakura's safety- Bakura had come home with a story about having been captured. Granted, Bakura had escaped basically unharmed...but still.

Bakura had stayed settled at home for a little while after his close scrape, possibly out of some consideration for Mahes. But soon enough, Bakura had gone off to rob another tomb. Mahes still hated it, yet he also still knew that Bakura could not give up his calling.

So now Mahes was again stuck alone in the hideout, with concerns about Bakura's safety plaguing his thoughts. Bakura had been gone on his latest tomb-robbing expedition for a couple of days now, and as usual, Mahes didn't know when he would be back.

Mahes was lying sideways on their bed, his feet propped against the wall, and his head hanging over the edge of the mattress. He knew that soon, he would shift positions again, restless as he was.

His mind wanted to focus on all the horrible things that could be happening to Bakura at that moment. It wanted to drift into thinking about the worst-case scenario- how he would feel if Bakura never came home; the pain and torment that would ensue if he never even found out what had happened to Bakura; what Mahes's life would be like if he had to continue on as an outcast of society, but completely alone and without his partner.

Mahes attempted to banish all thoughts of Bakura from his mind as he jerkily shifted his body sideways, rolling over to set himself right-ways on the bed so that his head now lay on the encased plant fibers that made up their pillow.

Mahes tossed and turned violently, unable to make his thoughts obey him. Bakura was an idiot...a reckless, arrogant idiot...who would never give up on his duty to his people, no matter what the risks...

And he respected Bakura for that. And something on a level just below his consciousness told him that this was the path that his thoughts should take. If he couldn't stop thinking of his partner, he should at least think of him in general terms- positive terms- instead of thinking of the danger he may be in at that very moment.

So Mahes let his mind wander to the things that had happened between himself and Bakura over their years together. He and Bakura had been something to each other- something that Bakura would never admit to or define aloud- for a while now.

And from the start, Mahes had always wanted more, more, more. He had sensed, on a deep level, that Bakura wanted the same thing- though Bakura would be the last person on Earth to ever admit to such desires.

And so they had experimented. And at first, with certain activities, things had been fumbling, awkward, even painful. It wasn't as if either of them knew what they were doing, nor did they have any way to find out how to properly proceed. So it was purely trial and error, and there were more nights than Mahes cared to remember that had ended in pain and soreness and even blood for either himself or Bakura.

But Mahes would never forget the first time that it had actually worked- the time that Bakura had slid his fingers inside of him, slicked with oil, and hit some special place inside that made him cry out with pleasure and caused his body to demand something more substantial.

And after that, Mahes had known just what to do to Bakura to cause him to feel the same way.

Mahes felt himself getting turned on at these thoughts, and some part of his mind lectured him that now was not the time for that- not when Bakura was off on a dangerous mission; not when he didn't even know if he'd ever see him...

But he still didn't want to contemplate that, either. So even as his mind turned from his previous train of thought, he continued to think of the happenings between himself and Bakura.

He had told Bakura that he loved him numerous times. Usually, Bakura gave no response at all. If he did respond, it was with an admonishment, telling Mahes not to act so emotional.

Yet Mahes still said it to him on occasion, for sometimes, he felt that his heart would burst if he didn't. And as much as he ached and longed to hear those words back...he had somehow realized that it didn't really matter if Bakura ever returned his sentiments verbally. Because he already knew. It was in his every action, his every touch...

And then, at that moment, the subject of his thoughts entered the hideout.

Out of long habit, Mahes leapt up immediately, pulling Bakura into a crushing hug, and saying the familiar words.

"Where have you been, partner? Tell me the tales of your adventures."

"I had no trouble, as usual," said Bakura calmly.

Mahes drew away from him, giving him a sharp look. "As usual, you say? Have you already forgotten about last time?"

"An anomaly," said Bakura, waving his hand and dismissing the topic seemingly without concern. "Anyways, I got a lot of good things this time- can you believe the valuable treasures that are wasted on the dead?"

Mahes looked at him dubiously. "Those things are meant to follow them into the afterlife, Bakura..."

"Oh, that's palace-talk," said Bakura flippantly. "Do you honestly believe that the gods care whom is buried with what? These things are much more useful to those of us who are still living."

Mahes simply shrugged, not really knowing the answer to that question. It had never occurred to him to give it much thought.

Finally, Mahes said, "Well...I suppose that makes sense."

"Of course it does," said Bakura.

Bakura then took his bag off of his shoulder and opened it.

"Here," said Bakura, looking downwards in a manner that would seem almost shy to anyone who didn't know Bakura. He reached into his pack, pulled something out, and then tossed it in Mahes's direction.

Mahes caught it easily- his reflexes had been honed well in his time with Bakura.

Mahes brought the object up in front of his face in order to examine it. "It looks like real gold..."

"Of course it is," said Bakura proudly. "It's a gold armlet."

Bakura paused for a moment, then clarified. "For you."

And again, if Mahes hadn't known Bakura, he would have thought that the redness in his cheeks was from a slight blush, and not just a result of the desert heat that he must have been traversing through for at least several hours prior to his return.

"I love it," said Mahes unequivocally, smiling and slipping it on. "Thank you."

"No problem," said Bakura, still seeming unable to meet Mahes's eyes.

"Come here," said Mahes.

"What?" asked Bakura.

"I'm tired...I haven't been sleeping well...you know how I get when you're gone for a while," said Mahes, shifting on his feet. "You must be tired too...I'm sure you've done a lot since you've been out. Besides, it's almost night...come to bed?"

Bakura looked hesitant for an instant, but there was no logical reason to protest Mahes's suggestion, so he walked across the hideout and let Mahes wrap his arms around him and pull him down onto the bed.

And he had no reason to be surprised when Mahes began kissing him, and then began running his hands all over his body, gradually slipping off his clothing to get at his bare skin.

Bakura reacted against his own will, unable to help himself from kissing his partner deeply and arching into his touch.

And once Bakura had lost himself, as he always did when his partner did these things to him, Bakura couldn't seem to keep his own hands from roaming, exploring again the body that was always offered up to him so unhesitatingly.

Mahes held Bakura tightly, and kissed him softly. And when Bakura eventually broke from the embrace, rolling over onto his stomach and parting his legs ever so slightly, Mahes knew exactly what Bakura wanted, for he was used to Bakura speaking in body language instead of in words in these sorts of situations.

Mahes sat up, grabbing a bottle from the shelves near their bed. Then Mahes leaned back down, draping himself over Bakura's prostrate form. He sucked and bit at Bakura's neck, and a moment later he slid two well-oiled fingers inside of Bakura. By now, he was easily able to find the spot that he knew would drive Bakura crazy, and he bent his fingers to rub against it.

For the moment, Bakura resisted making any sound or movement. Mahes was quite determined to change that.

For some time, Mahes licked and sucked at Bakura's neck, continuing to stroke inside of him. Eventually, Mahes rose up, now kneeling behind Bakura, never ceasing the motion of his fingers. His other hand slid along Bakura's inner thigh, and now he could feel Bakura shivering with the effort of attempting to remain still. Mahes continued his ministrations until, unable to control himself any longer, Bakura began thrusting his hips up to meet Mahes's fingers.

"Oh, you're very ready, aren't you?" Mahes whispered.

Bakura gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. And now there was no question about the blush staining Bakura's cheeks.

With a smirk that Bakura couldn't see, Mahes removed his fingers, coated himself with the oil, and slowly slid into Bakura's waiting body.

Mahes began to move, his body lying flush against Bakura's. Though he knew well what to do by now, he still wasn't quite over how good it felt to be inside his partner- at that moment, he wasn't sure that he ever would be- and he had to concentrate all his efforts to keep from finishing too quickly. So he started out slowly, gradually allowing himself to speed up.

When the muffled sounds of the one underneath him finally, thankfully told him that it was time, he grabbed Bakura by the hips and pulled him up so that Bakura was on his knees in front of him. He then reached around and wrapped a soft hand around Bakura's erection, eliciting an undignified yelp from his partner. He stroked in time with his thrusts, and it wasn't long before Bakura allowed a moan to escape him, letting Mahes know that he was coming hard. At that, Mahes finally allowed himself to release, and then he collapsed onto Bakura's back in exhausted satisfaction.

Mahes nuzzled against Bakura's neck, softly kissing the bruises left from his previous nips and bites, and he felt Bakura tremble underneath him.

"I love you," whispered Mahes. "So much."

And in that moment, Mahes suddenly realized the other reason why he continued to say those words to Bakura, despite the fact that he knew that he would never get a satisfactory response. It was because he understood, somehow, that there were times when Bakura desperately needed to hear him say it.