Author's Rant: Another wonderful artist named kitsune2006 from deviantart has drawn many pictures, one of Kisara in her dress from chapter 7— Yami and Yugi from scenes in chapter 18, 19 and 20—Yami's tattoos. I have the links posted in my profile. Enjoy the next chapter everyone.

~Side Note: Corrections made thanks to the lovely Ocena Strex! Thanks sweetie.

Exposure

There was a full moon tonight.

Yami knew it would rise before the meeting was summoned.

He'd bided his time quietly for several days while patiently waiting for word on several of his missing runners. The sudden missing of men had happened without warning. Valon was the first to vanish. Not long after him there'd been some corner suppliers and runners being snatched off the streets. They weren't in-holding in downtown Metro as originally presumed. Yami checked the stations first through Pegasus and none held any red bloods.

It would've been considered a loss of possible interference from their rival blue bloods, however, since they were having similar occurrences, Yami quickly ruled them out. And, he'd gotten Atem's word last night that he'd kept his crew on the down low to maintain a decent roll call of his men. So far, all of them had legit alibis to cover their whereabouts during the disappearances.

Yami would know. So would Pegasus. They both checked the places and thoroughly scanned the evidence to prove it. Now, that left Yami back at square one. Where would he go from here, was the question. This plagued him moderately, not because of the possibility of the runners, but because of who they were. All of them had some decent pull in the system, especially Valon. He didn't just go missing for days without checking in with one of the gangsters. That was per se of Yami's orders to everyone down to the twelve-year-old mission runners he took under his wings.

There was a small bit Yami didn't have to think over.

Yugi.

He'd left last week to attend his baseball team's finals in Atlanta. He wasn't supposed to be home until Sunday afternoon. Yami had a driver ready to pick him up when he landed. Neither gang leaders thought it wise to alert Yugi to their intentions during his absence. They would see each other again to continue stimulating their new romance upon his return. It was to keep equality and dismiss any doubts. Besides that, Yami knew Atem was only festering his greed as well. He wanted to experience having them both by his side instead of one. It gave him more pleasure seeing that he now possessed what no other would ever have again.

It was as he said before; once in there was no way out of it. Yami preferred it that way. They were bonded tighter than snake coils. Knowing this during the passing minutes, hours, days and weeks, it'd driven out this lingering chill that laid dormant in his chest. Oh, it was still there; like a demon sheltering itself in his ribcage. It would never leave Yami and he didn't want it to. These warm sensations he felt for Yugi and now . . . even Atem were merely covers over his inner soul.

Sad to say, but that hard stone part of himself would fester for as long as he wanted. At least, that's what he hoped.

Yami minutely turned his sights away from the window to gaze over the near complete chain of command. He'd demanded all of them arrive bearing their colors like war flags. Not a single one of their arms was covered. Mai, especially, displayed all of the violent red tattoo symbols on her body from her shapely ample thighs, to the plump curve of her bosom. Raphael rode over with Mahado, each wearing their red and black outfits, arms devoured in street ink. Yami was wearing a red muscle wife beater and baggy grey, white and black camouflage cargo pants stuffed in dark black commando boots.

Seto was comfortably sitting in the corner of the couch, eyes closed and quiet.

Yami's eyes then followed behind the only fidgeting member in the room who was pacing back and forth, chocolate brown skin creased in an angry scowl.

"What the hell is takin' him so long? He's always comin' late!"

Yami suppressed a throaty growl when Akefia violated his orders to keep silent until everyone arrived at the main house mansion for The Meet. He was too engulfed in his thoughts and considered it a personal blessing that he hadn't lashed out at his young subordinate. He wasn't talking loudly, but in this chilly silence, he may has well have screamed at the top of his lungs.

"He knows what time to be here. This is bullshit!" Akefia continued, agitatedly pacing the African printed throw rug. He huffed and pivoted on his heel for another cycle, arms folded tight as his nails dug into the crook of his elbows. "Bloody bastard!"

"Sit down, Thief," Mahado sternly snapped from his place on the sofa seat. He wore an undeniable expression belaying his annoyance and tilted his head. "It's hard enough we have to sit here knowing we're waiting. Being reminded of it every waking minute, isn't necessary."

"It is when no one is makin' an effort to try and see why he's runnin' late!" Akefia brazenly shot back. "What if he's out there missin' like Aussie? Why the fuck am I the only one worried?"

Seto perched his chin on the back of his chuckles, a condemning gleam in his blue eyes blazing from the lit fire mantle. He and Thief had come dressed the same, both in dark black Levi jeans and sleeveless red shirts, Akefia's from Urban Legend and Seto's collar button up from Dillards.

Slim gave his pacing partner a patient glare. "That's the basis of this parley, you see; to figure out where Valon might be as well as our missing crooks. J.R.'s got his own business to deal with before coming here."

"Yeah, but how do we know he isn't just missing?"

"He's not."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

Akefia rolled his eyes. "Why, 'cause ya grew up together? So what? Aussie and me live down the block from each other too! I know every damn thing about him, except where he is right now! And we can't even get on with this fuckin' meeting 'cause J.R.'s messin' around doin' who knows what!"

"You need to calm down," Seto coolly advised. "You're no good to anyone being uptight and disorderly. As it is, all your constant whining is merely taunting our trigger fingers. So to keep from ending up a casualty, why don't you do as you're told and sit down."

Akefia whirled around, long finger stuck in directly in Seto's face. "I'm not sittin' down until we take action! That's my damn partner out there and none of you assholes are actin' like you give a shit!"

Seto smacked the offensive appendage from his personal space. "You'd best back away."

"Or what? Whatcha' gonna do besides piss me off? I'll toss your skinny ass like a salad!"

Blue eyes narrowed. "Careful, those are fighting words."

"You think I'm scared of you, son? The fuck outta here, Slim. I'm the one who taught you how to fight!"

Having heard enough, Seto stood to his full 6'3 height, looming like an ice tower over Akefia's 5'11. The four-inch difference didn't faze Akefia in the least. Where Seto had height, Akefia had the bulk.

"Since you did, then you should already know to back down like a good dog before you're kicked like one," Seto dangerously warned.

Akefia barked a nasty laugh. "Is that supposed to scare me lil' boy, cause I'm not quakin' in my boots."

"Yet."

"Akefia. Seto."

The two froze.

Yami said nothing more when they faced him together. He gave no instructions, didn't shout, yell or attempt to advance. He didn't need too. The level of boundless respect for their leader was absolute and sound. Seto bent his knees and slowly lowered himself back on the couch. Akefia hesitated a split second. Yami narrowed his eyes thin. Akefia blew out hard, but didn't fight on the silent order and shut his mouth, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

The Red Eyes O.G. watched his senior members intensely for a moment, but finally fell back to looking out the window just as a pair of gold beams surfaced out of the dark. The familiar black Tahoe took shape in the dark, rolling around to park behind Seto's Ford Avalanche. Yami stared down quietly before stepping from the window and stalking through the parlor.

He left without a word.

Mai sighed, shaking her head. "Damn fool was begging for this."

Joey was in for it now.

Yami was pissed.

Joey knew Yami was pissed.

The front door cracked open and Yami gradually stepped forth, pausing at the top of the stairs, arms folded, and expression tight. Joey sighed, dragging a hand over his greasy head. He came wearing a red Chicago Bull's jersey with a white undershirt, stuffed in some blue jeans and pair of black and red Retro 7 Jordans. There was no way he could lie out of this one. Not that he'd want to lie to the man who cared for him like a son.

Whatever excuse he could come up with wouldn't be reasonable as to why he was late on The Meet. He'd been late before, but never an hour. It couldn't be helped though. Joey had wanted to arrive on time, he really did, but then, he got caught up in being soothed by talking on the phone with Tristan. He stayed on the phone with the brunet until he fell asleep. Joey could've listened to the teen talk about the game's details for hours, if for the sake of just hearing that snappy tone massage his eardrums.

Everything about Tristan was becoming an obsession for Joey. He wanted to be near him, smell him, feel him, and he was forever on the blonde's mind. That shit was some kind of scary and it was clouding up his instincts and duties.

"Fuck," Joey ragged, washing his hands down his face. This was getting crazy and worst of all, he knew he didn't care. He liked these mixed up feelings flooding his body and mucking up his head. It made him feel good . . . and it's been a long time since he felt like this—

A sudden click and gust of air was his only warning.

By the time he turned around, Yami's hand was coming fast; fast enough to strangle, fast enough to kill.

Yami did no such thing. His single hand thrust in, snagging a handful of Joey's shirt and snatching him from the car like a rag doll. The strength from the older male was stunning. He slammed the door shut and hurled Joey's back to it, squeezing.

Joey sputtered, mouth open and air escaping faster than it was coming. He grabbed the hands threatening to end his life and clenched down hard. The pressure didn't let up. Joey's brown eyes met the intense glare, a calm, scarlet fire; fire that was cold and unmoving just like his steely hands.

Joey was no stranger to punishment. Yami once punched him in the face so hard, the blond felt the pain vibrate in his skull. That'd been because Yami was worried. Joey had run away one night when he was fifteen after refusing to take out a five-year-old girl, whose daddy owned some money.

Joey was missing for a month, living anywhere and any place that a couch was offered to him. Eventually, Joey knew he'd have to return to the main house. Yami had been waiting for him at the top of the stairs and ample down the stairs, rage etched on his face. Joey held his ground and took the assault.

Yami did it to express his worry. Joey knew how he felt. Even at twenty-years-old, Yami was still treating the blond like that skinny kid he found crying on the curb.

Joey stopped fighting, dropping his hands by his sides and closed his eyes. Submission was a weak and effective sign of accepting your wrongs. The pressure let up as soon as he consented.

Joey choked violently lurching forward. He collapsed to his knees, rubbing at his tender neck. He was on the ground for a minute at best before he felt a tight grip on his shirt and a hard snatch up. Yami scuffed him up, forcing Joey on his feet. He roughly shoved a solid palm to Joey's chest, to force the circulation in his lungs.

Sweet relief. It hurt like hell, but it worked. Joey staggered clumsily up straight, wearily eyeing his leader. "Hello to you too, O."

Yami cut his eyes at him.

Joey held up his hands. "Right, not the best thing ta' say." He lowered his hands by his sides, but didn't stuff them in his pocket. That'd be a hostile gesture. "Sorry."

Yami folded his arms. "We're spread out thin as it is, some of the men are disappearing left and right, Valon's still MIA and you," Yami growled, "you know better. The last thing I need is thinkin' about where the hell you are when I got a handful of others to find!"

Joey did stuff his hands in his pockets this time and that was only to keep from grabbing Yami. He took offense to what was said, spitting on the ground. "Tsk, dunno why ya worried. I've been takin' care of myself just fine. Why you trippin' now? Ya don't need to be concerned for my wellbeing. It's the reason why I haven't been messin' with ya lately." Joey looked at him carefully. "You've got your own problems ta' deal with, yeah?"

Yami blinked slowly, side glancing Joey steadily as if picking away at the youth's inquisitive nature. "Nothing I'm going through will keep me from takin' care of what's mine," Yami said softly. "The responsibility of all of you rests on my shoulders. I don't bring anyone into this life just to watch them die. I didn't kill your father to see you become another corpse."

"Ah geez, now you're breakin' my heart, O'. Who said I'll wind up dead somewhere, eh? This is J.R. ya talkin' to. Ain't no one gonna get the best of me." Joey grinned cheekily. "And you taught me everything I know about handlin' myself in a tight situation, so ya gotta stop buggin'. I'll be fine."

Yami's chest rose and fell on a deep sign. "Until I've cleared out where the others are, you stay low regardless. I don't need another head to search for." He turned towards the house, paused in his step and beckoned Joey forward. "Where were you anyway?" he questioned when Joey caught up.

"Who me? Erm, nowhere. Just chillin', ya know, drivin' around town."

Yami lifted his eyebrow, indicating for the youth to elaborate further.

See? Lying was hard when you had those eyes piercing you like they could see straight through you. Joey scratched behind his head, looking off to the side. "I was on the phone talkin' to this boy from Domino High."

"Tristan Hiroto Taylor, age 18, blood type AB, lives on Cocoa Pine Ave in the Bellingrath Gardens neighborhood, plays baseball for the varsity team and he's listed in the Medium residency files."

"Fuck." Joey slapped a hand over his face. "No wonder I've been seein' Duke follow my ass lately. I didn't know."

"That's not the point. What I'm getting at is what is he to you?"

Joey twisted his mouth to the side stubbornly, but answered, "Nothin', he's just a friend."

"The sort of friend you spend time with on a daily basis, talk with on the phone for hours on end and frequent your favorite spot with?"

"What the hell—who'd you have follow me?"

"I followed you."

Silence, then. "Oh. Wait, why?"

"You character's been idiosyncratic lately. I wanted to see for myself what was going on."

"Well," Joey shrugged, mildly annoyed at being spied like he was fresh off the press. "Now ya know. What now?"

"For now, nothing. Have your fun if you will, but don't allow yourself to get distracted from your duties. You can't afford excess baggage holding you back."

"Tristan's not baggage . . . he's . . . he's not holding me back. I feel lighter around him."

"Be that as it may," Yami stopped, causing Joey to stop as well, "I don't want a repeat of what happened tonight. We've got more important issues to deal with than your personal problems."

Joey whipped his glaring eyes up. "It's perfectly fine for you to mess around with that Muto kid, but as soon as I get some fun, I gotta be careful? Practice what you preach and all that, yeah?" Joey snorted, rolling his eyes. "If you're worried about me changin', then what's goin' on with you, Yami?"

The Red Eyes leader stayed quiet.

"Why is it OK for you to have fun? I'm grown too. You're not any different from me. If anything, I don't have as much responsibility, so why I gotta play ninja if there isn't a reason too?"

"Because I'm not out for cheap thrills."

"What makes you think I am?"

"Joey—"

"I'm not!" Joey insisted strongly. "Gimme the benefit of the doubt for once, O. You're thinkin' I'm gonna let myself get caught up in somethin' I'm not ready for, but lemme check you here." Joey faced his older friend and leader confidently, head held up and stomach rolling in somersaults with Yami looked at him like he was ready to rip his head off. "I'm feelin' this guy, but I already know where I'm needed when I need to be there. I'm not gonna wind up dead, I'm not gonna be double crossed and I can take care of myself. If you can run around with your head in the clouds with Muto, I can do the same with Tristan."

Yami's chest swelled. Joey felt his knees buckle for an instant, but he remained firm on his word and waited.

Yami didn't have him waiting long. "Be careful is all I'm saying, Joey." He clapped a hand on the young blonde's shoulder. "But don't forget who the hell I am. The next time I tell you to jump, you better ask how high. If I tell you to jump a bridge, but you better ask which side. I teach you the streets to keep you safe. Put your ass where I point it next time."

Joey sucked his teeth and grunted his consent. The discussion ended there. Yami lead the way back inside the main house and into the parlor. He shot a warning glance at Akefia to keep his mouth shut and took center stage, looking at his crew in turn.

"Everyone who wears these colors knows the risks that come with it," he started. "These risks shouldn't include being picked off possibly by our own."

Mahado sat up straight. "Is that what you think is going on?"

"It's gotta be," Joey injected callously. "I've been patrolling the borderlines for days, scoping out the new faces. It's like every day I'm seeing folks I've never seen out there in the place of the ones assigned to that spot. I went to one of the sling houses to inventory the gear. Blake's the hot head for that one. The goons said they hadn't seen 'em for since last Wednesday when he switched out with someone else."

Seto nodded. "I drove through the streets as well and the same as J.R., I've noticed strange faces and what's stranger still is the money still being leeched from the accounts. Every time I get a lock on the location, it scatters in a dozen different directions."

"I'm not following," Mai said, blinking at the men. "What does this have to do with Valon and the others being missing?"

"It has to be connected somehow," Raphael grumbled behind his hand. "You remember that time Thief and J.R. went out to watch the corner? I'm still trying to figure out what blue bloods were doing so deep on our grounds and no one tried to take a single one out."

"What do you think it means? That the blue bloods are impersonating us?"

"No," Yami's deep voice brought everyone's attention to him. "Blue bloods are too proud to stoop that low. I got word from a source that Zigfried was seen with a mix of my men and Atem's in front of Domino High."

"That French bitch?" snarked Akefia. "He's got something to do with all of this?"

"I don't want to cause an uproar just yet, but it's a theory. Pegasus, Zigfried and myself are only the one ones with the withdrawal codes to the bank accounts. Seto only has the base numbers. That can only mean that Zigfried has something to do with it."

It was a grim conclusion to believe, but there was something else Yami had on his mind as well.

"Why not think Pegasus is involved?" questioned Akefia.

"He'd be stupid to take out Yami and even that bastard, Atem. They're the knights to his kingdom," answered Mahado. "It'd be like breaking the wall of a dam."

". . . Oh. Shouldn't Zigfried feel the same way?"

"No, he's always wanted to run by his own agendas. This is a hunch, but I think I know where he's getting at with all this drama," said Yami. "The prissy ass never did like me or Atem since we came up in ranks. I think he's hacking at us bit by bit, working on something big. . . he's starting from the bottom and going on up."

Akefia shot up to his feet. "Then why the hell can't we go tell Pegasus to keep that bitch of us on a leash! That motherfucka' might have had something to do with Valon's disappearance!"

"It's not as simple as that!" Joey snapped. "Zigfried is Pegasus's honey. It ain't like he's gonna take our word over his. We need proof and Zigfried's smart. He won't slip up."

"Which is why I'm going to ask you all to lay low. Very low. Disappear for a while. If he's knocking us off based on rank, you three will be next," Yami directed at Seto, Joey and Akefia. He faced the rest of his crew. "You three can—" Wait. Yami frowned, doing a circle around the room. "Where's Ishizu?"

Everyone went quiet, clear confusion on their faces.

Mai climbed up to her feet, eyes narrowed. ". . . She hasn't shown up. Has anyone spoke to her?"

"Nah, we haven't."

The others shook their heads.

Yami thinned his lips. He didn't like this. He pulled out his cell and dialed his missing O.L. This was far beyond Ishizu's character. She would always arrive to a Meet and if she had business somewhere else, she'd inform Yami about it at least thirty minutes prior. How could he have missed that? The phone call went straight to voicemail.

His face screwed up distastefully. This definitely wasn't good. Not at all. "Yeah," he quiet murmured. "All of you stay low. I don't wanna see hide nor hair of you until we get to the bottom of this."

"But what about, Aussie?" Akefia spoke out, voice strained. "What we gonna do about him?"

Yami looked at him. "We're gonna wait." He knew his subordinate would show up eventually, but dead or alive, he didn't know.

The International Domino City Airport was packed to capacity with people from every walks of life. The weather was sunny, bright like the reflection from a mirror and pleasant. Yugi could walk on clouds, with the feeling he had inside right now. After such a long time of waiting, his high school had successfully obtained the National Title. What a game it'd been against Atlanta, so close and so competitive. It dulled his spirits that he would have to sit in the dugout and observe from the sidelines, but it didn't mar his desire to cheer for his teammates.

Every time Yugi heard the sharp clack of the baseball-to-bat contact, the pulse to run would surge to his feet and propel him to stand. They'd managed eleven homers, seven strikeouts, and a bunch of close calls. After nine fierce endings, the final score was 19-16. The team celebrated in the Hampton Inn hotel for hours, renting video games, ordering room service and practically acting nuts. It was grand time, a fun time.

Yugi spent his lone time, speaking with Atem and Yami over the phone, relaying all the happenings of what happened to them. Yami listened and Atem would give his bemusing feedback. They'd talk for hours, or really, Yugi was the one doing most of the talking. He knew it was time to get off the phone when Atem would finally ask when they were going to fuck.

As silly and annoying as he was, Yugi couldn't wait until they came to greet him home. It was his ultimate focus. Well, until he spotted Tristan hustling through the ground with his duffle bag throw over his shoulder. It was easy to spy his old best friend since the entire team was wearing their jerseys with either black or blue jeans.

Yugi didn't know what urged him to do it, but he started after the brunet, ducking and weaving through the oncoming crowd. Tristan lingered around baggage claim to get his one suitcase and went off to the back entrance pick-up. He was waiting. Yugi kept the barrier of the door between him and Tristan, face pressed to the surface, simply watching. He'd been meaning to say something to his friend. Anything at all. But the distance between them had wedged itself too deep.

It hurt. Yugi didn't want it to end like that. It was time to put a stop to this. Now.

"Tristan!"

The brunet whipped around, surprise, shock and angry expressions flashing across his face like a slide show. "What the hell—Yugi did you follow me?"

After an outburst like that it was definitely safe to say that Tristan wanted to avoid Yugi entirely. Well, Yugi was getting sick of dodging around as if he didn't belong here. This whole situation was getting stupid and he wanted to end it.

"We have to come here anyway, so yeah I did," Yugi answered carefully folding his arms. "We need to talk."

Tristan's head twisted over his shoulder before giving Yugi an impatient glare. "Right now?"

"Yeah, right now. Seriously, Tristan, I'm getting sick of this."

"Sick of what?"

Yugi blinked at him. "Are you kidding me? This, us, this whole avoiding one another and fighting thing. I don't know about you, but it's getting frustrating having to pick another lunch table to eat at. And," Yugi grew silent, "I miss hanging around my best friend."

Tristan sighed and tossed his head back, closing his eyes. "Yugi," he dragged the name like tugging a heavy rock through water. "Straight up, I really don't wanna talk right now."

"Is this gonna be a constant thing between us now? This is stupid, Trist'. You're really gonna let our friendship end over a stupid argument?"

Tristan flipped his head down, crossing his arms the same as Yugi, stance stiff as concrete. "So, you getting shot by one of the most ruthless criminals in the city, messin' around with someone else who kills for the sheer joy of it and playin' daddy to his brat is pretty stupid huh? Yeah, that's totally dumb. Excuse me for giving a flippin' shit what my best friend is getting himself into. Next time, I'll just let you get yourself caught up."

"This again? God, you're so—just let it go! They made mistakes, but things are different now. Don't you think if I didn't trust them, I'd be with them?"

"I dunno, you tell me because from my end all it looks like you're strung up on some good dick, you can't see straight."

Yugi's entire face went red with embarrassment and rage. He couldn't stop his heart from beating so fast, he was so pissed off. "We haven't had sex Tristan. Regardless of that fact, it's my business what I do with my life. You're not my father!"

"Someone has to look out for you, you damn idiot! Clearly you can't since you see everything as puppies and rainbows!"

"Ugh!" Yugi threw his hands in the air. "Fuck this! Tristan I didn't come out to argue about the same thing! I just want us to get back to being friends. All of this drama over who the hell I'm with shouldn't dictate our relationship!"

"Then you may as well go back inside because we don't have anything else to talk about besides that!"

"You're being irrational, while I'm trying to fix what's broken between us, Tristan!" Yugi ran his hands over his thorny hairs, hovering his hands over his face. "Look," he started slowly after taking several deep breaths, "I'm done with this. If-if me being with them is what's really going to ruin us, then I'm sorry. I'm not going to ignore my feelings in order to satisfy you . . . but just tell me this." Yugi inhaled as if drawing his final wind from the bottom of his feet. "If this is how it's gonna be from now on, be up front and tell me now. I don't wanna lose you, but I can't deal with this anymore. These nasty looks, hurting each other, I'm getting sick of it. If you don't wanna see me anymore just say it. Say you never wanna see me ever again and I swear I won't bother you again . . ."

Tristan didn't respond. In fact, he turned his back to Yugi, a fierce set of wrinkles marring the side Yugi could see from behind. Yugi scowled. It wasn't fair for him to be on the raw end of the deal. Tristan had the opportunity handed to him, so why wouldn't he just get on with it. Just end it. That's the road their friendship was going down anyway. In fact, why should Yugi stand here and wait for the evitable when he already knew the outcome.

"Fuck it," he grunted, no longer up for putting up this brave face. He'd given Tristan a chance. If-if it was coming down to this, then maybe they should part ways. The minute Yugi's palms pressed against the glass doors, his upper torso was reeled back by a strong pair of arms and slammed against a solid compound of warmth. The arms descended around his waist and squeezed. Some pressure laid on the back of his head with moist breathing wetting his scalp.

Yugi gulped. "Tristan?" he tested quietly. "What. . ."

Then Tristan pressed into him, his body heat looming and streaming like a pot of hot water. He looped his arm around Yugi's neck and hugged him close, just gently rubbing his knee between Yugi's legs. Every pore on Yugi's body opened up, flushing bright as a chili pepper and doubled in intensity when Tristan curved his nails under Yugi's chin. He pressed his mouth against Yugi's ear and whispered in a gravity descending tone.

"The last thing I'd wanna do is end what we've got."

Yugi was so ashamed for the slightly perverse thoughts for the guy he wanted strictly as a best friend. Tristan could be affectionate, he knew that. It's just been a good stretch of time since he'd openly displayed any to Yugi. So the younger teen was taken by surprise even more when he felt a kiss brushed over his temple and those large hands spreading out over his chest and neck.

"Tristan?"

"I'm sorry." Tristan blurted out. "I'm sorry Yug'. It was never my intention to break up our friendship."

"Then what were you trying to do?" Yugi found himself asking over his shoulder. "That's what I got from you avoiding me every day. I tried so many times to talk to you. . ." Yugi cozied into the embrace, chest flooded with relief. "That hurt Trist'. I thought the worst."

Tristan started stroking Yugi's stomach through his shirt. "I was angry, hell I still am. All this time, I just wanted to make you feel as pissed as I've been. You're my best friend, man. You don't know what I'd do if something happened to you?" Tristan moved even closer, resting his chin on top of Yugi's shoulder. He nosed under Yugi's ear and chuckled at the faint shudder. "You forgive me?"

"You know I do." Yugi's heart was lounging nice and snug in his throat. "Don't expect things to change between me and them because we're making up Trist'. I mean it.

Tristan rubbed his lips right under his ear.

Redness exploded on Yugi's cheeks "Tristan, come on." He swatted at his ear. "What's gotten into you? You're being all touchy feely when I'm trying to hold a conversation—you do realize you're touching another guy right?"

Tristan grimaced. "You didn't like that huh?"

"What, no not from you!"

Tristan's shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world was lain on him. "Guess that little plan backfired. I'm no good at this seduction crap."

Yugi blinked. Realization dawned on him. "Tristan," Yugi heavily drawled, covering his face. "Please stop."

"OK, OK, I get it, sorry."

"Why would you do that?"

"To keep you safe. Thought maybe if you liked me you'd forget about them. I'm scared for you Yug'. What do you expect me to do if I get a call sayin' you were caught in a drive by or somethin' and I could've prevented it?"

Yugi grabbed Tristan's upper arms and shook him. "What is it going to take for you to realize I'll be fine. I'm going to be OK. I'm in—" he caught himself and corrected himself. "I care for them. Every time I've gotten in trouble, they've helped me out. I couldn't be in safer hands. Can't you trust me on this, please?"

Tristan dropped his head back. "Fuck, I really don't wanna agree to this." He sighed. "I'm not comfortable with it . . . can you at least promise if something happens you won't stick around playin' hero?"

"I promise I won't play hero. They wouldn't let me anyway." Yugi smiled.

So did Tristan, brown eyes slid shut in quiet relief. His face blended into a newer, worried expression. "I don't want anything to happen to you. I love ya like a brother."

"I feel the same way."

Tristan hiked his book bag on his shoulders and looked off into the distance. "Let's finish this later OK? Aren't you supposed to be waiting on your ride?"

"Yeah, but who's picking you up?"

Tristan blinked at him stupidly. "What?"

"Who is your ride?"

"Just a friend. Don't you have to get your stuff from baggage claim?"

"Why are you dodging my question?"

"Why are you asking me questions?"

Yugi checked down the rows of cars as well and cocked an eyebrow. "Who is it? Tell me.?"

Tristan started pushing Yugi towards the double doors. "Quit being nosey, will ya?"

Yugi thought a moment, and then was all smiles. "Ohhh, I know what's going on." He twisted off Tristan's hands and placed his hands on his. "Somebody's got a girlfriend, huh? Come on, Tristan lemme me meet her."

"What, no I don't have a girlfriend, dummy!"

"Then why are you acting shy about it? Is she fat? You know looks don't matter. It's what's inside that counts, even if you gotta dig about fifty pounds to find out what."

"You're being an idiot, Yugi. Just do me this one favor and go back inside."

"What's the big deal? I'm not going to judge you." Yugi pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and tilted his head. "Unless. . . it's not a girl."

Tristan's face filled up with so much guilty redness, he could pitch a fire. Yugi's eyes budged out of his sockets.

"Tristan—you're—how—with who—Oh my god, since when?!"

"Knock it off, don't even go thinkin' like that OK!" Tristan bitterly growled. "I told ya he's just a friend."

"With the possibility of becoming more?" No answer, but a deeper blush. Yugi clapped his hands together, all sorts of happiness blooming for his friend. "This is wonderful, Tristan. I never would've thought of you with a guy, but I bet he's great if he could convince you to give it a try. Now, I definitely have to meet him! Where is he? what does he drive in? Is he hot? Does he go to our school? What does he look like? Is he older? Does he have a job?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down! We're not even dating and you've already picked out my wedding day," Tristan scratched behind his head, looking nervously down the street. "Come over here," he pulled Yugi behind one of the stone pillars hoisting up the pick-up aisle and pressed a finger to his mouth. "I'll answer all of your questions, but you gotta let me explain OK?"

"OK," Yugi slowly agreed.

Tristan checked down the road once more—which Yugi found disturbingly odd—before he looked back at his friend. "He's on his way here, he drives a Tahoe, no he doesn't go to school, he's blonde, about my height and yeah he's older. He has a job too. He owns Insanity downtown and does a little extra on the side."

"Is he attractive?"

"Well," Tristan rubbed the back of his neck weirdly. "I guess. I mean, I like to look at him, he's funny, nice and. . . he's just great company. We have a lot in common."

Yugi blinked wearily. He looked behind Tristan in case his ride had arrived, but he ended up staring a little longer then intended. Yugi's expression dulled. "Is he slender?"

"Yeah, but not much. He could stand to have a little more meat on his bones, but he eats like a freakin' cow. You should see the way he eats through a pizza."

"He has blond hair too right? Brown eyes? Drives a Tahoe?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's—" Comprehension took a long time to settle on Tristan's mind before he really took a look at Yugi's face and saw the shadowy disdain. Dread roared inside the brunet's chest because Yugi wasn't looking at him. He was glaring beyond Tristan; behind him. The brunet gulped and checked over his shoulder. He'd counted on having a case of mistaken identity on his hands.

Too bad he wasn't that lucky. Tristan knew that Yugi had put two and two together without fail when he spotted Joey leaning against the side of his Tahoe, wearing his signature gang colors; a bright red hoodie unzipped to show his white undershirt, a pair of baggy acid washed grey jeans and black Air Max shoes. Another thing Tristan hadn't counted on was Yugi going in Joey's direction.

Tristan did a double take of the space that used to be in between him and the medium framed figure walking down the sidewalk. He knew Yugi was livid. Here he'd been preaching nonstop about how Yugi was being foolish for messing around with a gang member and here Tristan had been doing the same. . . Fuck.

"Yugi," Tristan caught up to his best friend, reaching out to him. "Lemme explain—"

Yugi smacked his hand away as hard as he could. "Don't fuckin' talk to me."

"I'm trying to tell you what's going on!"

"Why? So you can tell me how dumb I am when you're clearly here doing the same thing? "

"No, I mean, it's not the same!"

Yugi whirled around. "How isn't it? Please elaborate because if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were fucking around with a red blood too!"

"We're not doing what you think!"

Yugi clutched at the air as if wishing I were Tristan's neck. His teeth were grinding so hard, he could chew bricks to sand. "Tristan, it's taking all of my power to walk away from you. I'm trying to prevent saying anything I'll regret so just—just stay away from me alright?" With that said, Yugi stomped off down the sidewalk, fists tight at his sides and a rigid line in his back.

Joey was eyeing him carefully when he went by. "What's up, Muto?"

Yugi cut his eyes at him evilly before going on his merry way. Joey lost sight of him in the crowd.

Tristan came up to Joey's side, saddened.

Joey frowned. "What's goin' on with you two?"

Tristan sighed. "Nothing, just take me home will ya?"

"Yeah. . . yeah sure." Joey took Tristan's things, throwing them in the backseat as the brunet climbed into the passenger side. Joey hopped in the driver's seat and pulled from the curb to merge into the exiting traffic. "You gonna be OK?" he asked when they entered the interstate.

Tristan reclined the chair back as far as it would allow and threw his arm over his eyes. "I really don't wanna talk about it."

Silence fell over the two from there. Joey didn't take Tristan home right away. He drove around the city, just to give the chocolate eyed teen a chance to think over what'd happened. Joey didn't press the teen for answers.

Joey carefully reached over and interlaced his fingers with Tristan's. He expected rejection, a disgusted snatch or growl of disapproval. He hadn't expected to feel those fingers squeeze back or the undeniable flutter in his chest.

One of Yami's men had come to pick up Yugi from the airport. In a way, it relieved and disappointed him. He would've liked to have Yami's company, but knew he wouldn't have been much company himself with the mood he was in. The school was allowing the players a day to recuperate from the game, including him. Yugi used that time to call up Yami and see if he could pick him up. He didn't care where they'd go. He just couldn't stand staying in the house.

He wanted to be around Atem. He wanted to be around Yami. He wanted to be with them. Maybe it'd help him get over his mixed emotions. He hoped so.

It was late in the evening, well past ten o'clock, Yugi's curfew. He'd waited until his grandfather fell asleep before sneaking out the house. He sat on the stony stoop, waiting for the twin pair of bright lights to come beaming in the distance. He'd donned on his senior sweats and a black t-shirt sporting his baseball number and some Nike sandals. It was a humid night, sounds from crickets and wood life echoed around him, some loud, some soft. The distractions did his mind some good to keep from dwelling long on his issue with Tristan and his blooming relationship with Atem and Yami.

It wasn't easy. Yugi still felt apprehensive and inexperienced. Compared to the lives they'd lived, Yugi's own paled. He didn't know a day of hardship in his life, thank goodness. Those two, since birth they'd always been fighting. That's what Yugi knew of Yami anyway. He still couldn't figure out much of Atem's past. The Blue Eyes leader was always turned tight-lipped when questioned.

Yugi heard revving and then Yami's car emerged through the tall trees, tires rolling over the bumpy dirt road. He'd shut his lights off in order to keep the beams from showing though the house windows, Yugi noticed. Yugi stood up, dusting off his pants before stepping away to meet the Charger. It curled around and stopped with the driver's side facing Yugi. The black tints concealed the occupant within.

The window lowered ominously, the innards just as black, just as haunting as if confining a wicked creature inside. Yugi stilled at the sight of Yami's eyes. How was it possible to lock someone in place just with a look? Yami definitely had that mastered.

"Get in," Yami said, drawing up his window.

Yugi stuffed his hands in his pockets before circling around to hop in the passenger's side. He slammed the door shut and tugged on his seatbelt without a word. Yami pushed the accelerator forward and turned the steering wheel, peeling off down the dirt road. Minutes passed with agonizing slowness as Yami maneuvered through town in an unfamiliar direction, but Yugi didn't ask. He just wanted to get away.

Yami exhaled roughly through his nostrils, easing off the gas pedal once they merged onto the interstate. Yugi studied the city life out the window, quietly admiring the neon colorations and sounds.

"I found out my best friend was dating your friend today," Yugi whispered in the quietness. "Didn't seem fair to me when all he did was preach about how bad you and Atem were. Yet, here I find out he's doing the same thing."

Yugi's breathing evened out. Yami could hear it rushing and flowing with a balanced flow. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yugi's hands curled like boxing gloves in his lap.

Yugi shook his head. "I have a right to be angry with him, but I'm not. I'm disappointed. Like why keep that from me? I told him about you and Atem. Why couldn't he trust me with his relationship with J.R.?" He sat back in his seat, sinking a little. "Being mad would be so much easier."

"You don't have it in you," Yami finally spoke, startling Yugi. "Try not to think too much on it. It's supposed to be our night. Focus on your mind on what's to come." He said nothing further, a soft frown sweeping over his features. Yami stretched his hand out without looking from the road and untangled Yugi's hands from his lap. Grasping the one closest to him, he brought it to his mouth and laid his lips on top.

Yugi inhaled sharply, flexing his fingers beneath the smooth lips. The lips pressed harder, moisture light and sensual. Yugi found the odd gesture comforting and let Yami hold his hand the entire way to wherever they were going.

The trip ended about twelve miles from Domino, on the outskirts in a suburban neighborhood, Yugi never knew existed. It was a quaint place, no different from any middle class area. The houses were neat red brick structures with identical mailboxes, trimmed lawns, and light posts. Yugi sat up further, blinking at the houses as they vanished from view. There were a lot of hills and speed bumps too.

They pulled up to a two story Spanish brick that was the very essence of Spain. It was tucked off from the rest, with a little more space and wider driveway. A mercury blue Dodge Journey sat parked in front of the garage. Yami pulled up beside it and turned off the ignition.

Yugi opened his mouth to ask where they were until the front door opened.

Atem appeared, wearing a grin like he the cat who ate the canary. "'Bout time," he said from the doorway. "Hurry and get in here."

"Shut up," grunted Yami. "I had business." He stepped out and waited until Yugi was next to him before setting the alarm. They pair walked up to the entrance, Yami getting the first, long, heated kiss before Yugi stepped up for his.

Only, he kept it short-lived. "Where are we exactly?"

Atem wrapped his arm around the youth's waist and pulled him close. "Away, that's all you need to know. Don't ask questions and I won't have to lie."

Yugi twisted his mouth at that.

Atem rolled his eyes. "Newport, Domino. Happy? Damn."

"Thank you," Yugi tip toed to get a proper kiss. "Where's Kisara?"

"Definitely not here, can't have baby girl interrupting us," Atem growled in Yugi's ear, massaging his ass.

Yugi stilled like a deer caught in the headlights. Interrupting? Interrupting what?

Atem moistened his lips and ushered the teen inside. Yugi felt like the gates to hell were shutting behind him when Atem locked the door, wearing a feral grin. "Just chill, we're gonna have a little fun tonight."

Yugi felt his stomach drop to his toes.

"C'mere," Atem beckoned with his finger. Yugi shook his head. Atem chuckled and sauntered up to him, grin still devious. "Don't be shy. You already know what time it is." He pulled Yugi to his chest, hands cupping under his ass and squeezing. Atem's face suddenly became serious. "You know what's about to go down tonight, yeah?"

Yugi dumbly shook his head.

The blue blood leader grabbed Yugi's shirt collar, dragging him close; so close that those Hersey lips were brushing his. "Don't play dumb now." A solid gold, square wrapper appeared out of Yugi's peripheral.

When his eyes widened, Atem smirked, stuffing it in his pocket.

"That's right," he chuckled. "We're gonna fuck tonight."

TBC: Lemon? Oh yes . . . about time too.