Sins of the Flesh

Sins of the Flesh
- 12 -

Seto stared at the pink dress that hung inside his open closet, not moving from his spot on the bed where he was lying. He didn’t know what to think of it… less than a week until they were supposed to get married, and those doubts were still assailing him…

Mokuba and Ryou had both told him that he looked good… but it wasn’t their opinions that mattered, was it? They were both too nice, too kind to him… They wouldn’t tell him if something was wrong with it. They didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He was sure he could trust Bakura…

Bakura was nothing if not brutally honest with his opinions… unless it was manipulative. If he’d liked it, he would have told him… instead, all he got was a nod. It looked horrible, but he wanted him to wear it, so he didn’t tell him so… He was just going to let him think that it looked fine, for whatever small reasons he may have had.

He considered just calling him and telling him that there wasn’t going to be a wedding. He’d already gotten the marriage license; there didn’t need to be any sort of ceremony, not really. Hell, they could find a judge and…

He sighed and turned his face down to rest hid forehead on his arms. Bakura seemed to know just about everything about him; how, he didn’t know, but he did. He knew that he wanted a wedding, too. And he was just going to use everything Seto wanted to get him to do what he wanted…

Seto frowned to himself. No more. He’d put an end to this right now. He wasn’t going to be manipulated for Bakura’s stupid, petty motives…

The phone was in his hand before he was entirely certain he had made up his mind. Ryou’s number had been committed to memory with a glance in the phone book several weeks prior… just in case… and he dialed it now.

“Mushi mushi.” The hikari sounded all too cheerful.

“Let me speak to Bakura.”

There was a hesitation. “Anou… Kaiba-kun…”

“Now.”

Ryou didn’t say another word, and he heard the phone shift hands, before Bakura’s voice came on. “What?”

The belligerent tone in his voice made his decision that much firmer. “There’s not going to be a wedding.”

“What? You’re backing out?”

“No, I’m not backing out.” In fact, he was still wearing the ring. He liked it. “But I don’t want there to be a wedding. I’ve already got the marriage license, we could get an open-minded judge and have a civil ceremony.”

Bakura was silent for a bit. “I’m coming over there,” he finally said. Seto opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, the line was dead.

He scowled and threw the phone into the corner and went back to staring at the dress.

He was still lying there as Bakura came in.

“What’s the matter with you?” Bakura demanded crossly, his arms folded over his chest. “I’m trying to give you what you want, baka.”

“And what the hell gives you the right to decide what I want?” Seto sat up and glared at him, his voice raised. “I know what I want, and this isn’t it! And you’re not going to make me do what you want just by manipulating me like this!”

“Manipulating you?” Bakura demanded, advancing on him, his hands in fists at his sides. “How the fuck am I manipulating you? I let you design the fucking thing–”

“And pay for it!”

“I don’t care about a fucking wedding, Seto!”

“You’re just trying to squeeze as much money out of me as you can!”

Bakura narrowed his eyes. “I’m not some gold-digging floozy, Seto. If I wanted your money, I would take it, and there wouldn’t be a damned thing you could do about it.” Seto narrowed his eyes back at him, but said nothing. “For your fucking information, Kaiba, I worked for the money to buy that damned ring, because of some damned whim you had. Does that sound like I’m trying to con you out of your hard-earned cash?”

Seto slid off the bed. “Are you trying to imply that I don’t deserve my money?” he demanded coldly.

“Imply fuck. I’m saying it. You don’t deserve your money, Kaiba. Wheeler deserves your fortune several hundred times more than you do. You’re a spoiled rich brat, Kaiba, and I don’t care that you started out in an orphanage, you still don’t deserve to be a billionaire, Cinderella, little miss Rags-to-Riches, heartwarming gooey story or not.”

Seto was silent for several seconds, and his voice was deadly cold when he did speak. “I’ve paid for this money,” he said quietly. “I’ve paid for every cent of it. I earned this with years of torture and servitude, with ninety hour weeks of school and work, with…” He stopped, and looked away.

The spell was broken.

Bakura put a hand on Seto’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. Seto was right, he knew; he hadn’t deserved that remark. From what he knew, Seto had probably more than paid for his fortune. Still, though, that didn’t give him the right to be such a little bitch about it… changing his mind all of a sudden about the wedding and everything…

“Leave me alone,” Seto said coldly, shrugging his hand away.

Bakura glared at him again, barely restraining the urge to hit him. “I’m not going to leave you alone. You’d better fucking get used to my presence.”

Seto spun around on him. “I don’t want to get used to your presence. I don’t even want to see you. I sure as hell am never going to trust you, so don’t even bother saying it.”

“Why the hell not? I haven’t done shit to you recently – I’ve been going out of my way to be nice to you and you little imp!”

“You’re trying to manipulate me into making a fool of myself and wearing a fucking dress!”

“You look fucking gorgeous in that dress!”

Everything froze. Seto stared at Bakura in shock, eyes wide, his mouth opened slightly. Bakura was mortified. Seto did not want to hear that from him; he hadn’t meant to tell him. Seto just pissed him right the fuck off, though, claiming he was “manipulating” him…

Seto seemed about to speak, but Bakura turned and walked out before he could see Seto’s inevitable breakdown.



Seto sat slowly on his bed. Bakura had to have been lying. This had to have been anther part of his ploy…

He shook his head and stopped that thought. He was being insanely paranoid. There was absolutely no reason for Bakura to want to humiliate him… He wouldn’t go to all this trouble jut for that, would he? No, he wouldn’t. And he wasn’t lying, he’d been making the effort to be nice recently. Not that that made up for what he’d done…

Seto grabbed his head with one hand, his fingers twined in his hair. These was too complicated, too hard to think about… He wasn’t even certain exactly what was going on. He hated this feeling, this uncertainty, this knowledge that he had no control over what was going on, that he was pressed firmly into a corner. He was honestly at Bakura’s mercy here. Just for once, he’d like to be able to relax…

He stood up and decisively slammed the closet door shut, hiding the dress. Bakura thought he looked gorgeous? No, he couldn’t. He had to have been mocking him.

The bathroom door slammed shut behind him as he entered the large, soothingly dim blue-and-white room. There was a shower in one corner, but that wasn’t what he was interested in; he yanked hard on the hot water tap in the bath. He wanted to relax and not think about this, about any of this.

After a moment’s thought, he went back and locked the door to his bedroom, then the bathroom door as well. No one would be getting in to see him, for anything. This was his time, damn it.

He stripped and, after a moment of consideration, poured some scented rose oil into the water as well. He was trying to relax, after all.

He slid into the water with a sigh. Perfect… His head leaned back against the edge of the tub as he slowly let the hot water relax all of his tense muscles. The scent of roses, just strong enough to fill the room, filled his head as well as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, willing himself to relax. For the first time in almost two months, he wasn’t thinking about Bakura, or the baby…

There was pounding on the door to his bedroom. Mokuba. He cracked one eye open and glanced that direction, but ignored him. Mokuba probably wanted to know what the yelling was about, or what was going to change now, or give him advice he didn’t want or something else equally petty. He really didn’t want to deal with it. He loved his brother, but even he had to admit that Mokuba could be annoying…

It stopped after a couple more minutes. Presumably, Mokuba decided he could ask later. Or something. Seto didn’t really care.

He languidly looked up, turning his head. The ring Bakura gave him was sitting on the vanity, shining in the light from the half-lit dimmer bulbs set around the edge of the ceiling. He wasn’t really thinking anything, just looking at it and pondering the ruddy reflections in its depths…

He didn’t even notice himself drifting off to sleep.



Seto awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He blinked a couple times, groggily, and rubbed his face with one hand.

It was then that he remembered he was still in the bath, as lukewarm water was rubbed over his face. It had probably been about an hour… the room still smelled like roses, at any rate. And he felt incredibly relaxed… he should do this more often.

The shrill ring of the phone sounded through the bathroom again, and he was reminded why he had woken up. He glared up at the phone hanging on the wall and stretched; he couldn’t quite reach. Damn… He forced himself out of the tub, hissing at the chill of the moving air on his wet shin, and grabbed the handset as it rang again.

“What?” he demanded crossly as he held it with his shoulder, grabbing a towel.

“Kaiba-kun?” It was Ryou’s gently accented voice that came through the phone at him. “May I speak to Bakura, please?”

“Why the hell would you call here for him?” Seto demanded as he dried himself off. “He left more than an hour ago. Can I assume he didn’t really go home?”

“No – that is, yes, you can.” Ryou sounded worried. “I was hoping he was still there, instead of out somewhere in the city…”

“Maybe he’s at work,” Seto suggested expressionlessly, wrapping the towel around himself. He wasn’t sure if he thought that was a viable option or not.

“No,” Rou said, “he can’t be. He quit right after he bought the ring and the dress, I think. Did you two argue?”

“Yes,” he told him flatly. No use denying it, or trying to lessen it.

He could hear the frown in the British boy’s voice. “Then he’s frustrated… he’s somewhere out in the city… he might hurt someone. I was trying to see how it went, but he won’t answer me…” He must have been talking about that psychic link all the hikari claimed they had. “I was hoping he was still there with you…”

“I’m sorry you lost your pet psychopath,” Seto told him dismissively as he unplugged the bath and unlocked the bathroom door, stepping onto the short carpet of his room and searching for clean clothes. “When you find him, be sure and put a leash on him.” He pulled the phone away from his ear as he pulled out a pair of pants, his thumb hovering over the disconnect button.

“Wait, Kaiba-kun!” he heard from Ryou, just as he was about to hang up. He frowned and brought the phone back to his ear.

“What now?”

“I wanted to talk to you as well… without Bakura being around.”

Seto sighed irritably. This couldn’t be anything he wanted to hear. “What, then?” he said, pulling on underwear.” Make it fast. I have work to do.” That was always a good excuse when he didn’t want to talk to someone.

“It’s just that Bakura has a way of always knowing what people want, even when they don’t really know it themselves. He understands people. He usually doesn’t use it toward anyone’s benefit but his own, but this time…”

He paused, pulling his pants on. “You’re trying to claim that he understands me?” He glared at nothing. “That everything he said is true? That he knows anything about me?”

Ryou rushed to placate him. As Seto knew that was what he was doing, it didn’t really work. “I just mean, Kaiba-kun, that you shouldn’t discard what he says just because you don’t like to hear it. I think that he thinks that it’s true, even if you don’t. You probably won’t be able to convince him otherwise… and, there’s always a chance that you just didn’t see it.”

Seto didn’t think he’d ever been so angry at someone who was trying to be so nice. “You think I want to be treated how he’s treating me? Admittedly, it’s better than how he treated me before,” then again, what was worse than being cornered and raped in an alley? “but you’d have to be an idiot to think that I want him to treat me like a princess, if that’s what he’s trying to do. Got it?”

“Kaiba-kun, wai–”

Seto didn’t even wait for him to finish his protest before hanging up and glaring at the phone as he continued to dress. That had completely ruined his good mood. Now he might as well actually do some work, because the day was good for absolutely nothing else.

He took the phone back into the bathroom and slammed it down on its holder, grabbing his ring on the way out and shoving it in his pocket.



Bakura slammed his glass down, only to have it instantly refilled, as per his standing order. He’d pay for it with the wallet from one of the more inebriated customers at the seedy little shithole bar, so he wouldn’t mind the cost. The booze wasn’t that good, but anything to distract him.

Except for the fact that alcohol wasn’t historically a great distractor. Instead, he found himself dwelling upon his idiocy. Hadn’t he just told himself a few days ago that he would not be telling Seto that he looked in any way attractive in that dress. He wasn’t by any means a sensitive person, but it was obvious, even to him, that it could only mean bad memories for him.

He just wasn’t used to this whole ‘nice’ thing. He was trying, but he had a feeling he was only making things worse.

Why couldn’t it have been someone more like Yugi or Ryou…?

Then again, A) he never would have done what he did to Seto to anyone even remotely similar to those two, because they would never get to him the way Seto did, and B) did he really want to marry either of them? As much as he appreciated Ryou, no, he didn’t. Ryou was someone good to have around, perhaps, but he really wasn’t attracted to him in any way… Well, that was a lie. He was attracted to him. He sure as hell didn’t actually love him, though. Was that too mean of him to think? They both knew it was true. And Yugi… hell, he didn’t even actually like Yugi. It wouldn’t be this hard to con him into forgiving him, though…

Maybe it had to be someone who could get to him. Specifically someone who could get to him like Seto did. It wasn’t as though he was the only one who could irritate him – the pharaoh did that admirably, and Malik and Marik weren’t too shabby – but they weren’t like Seto. They all took pleasure in it, and Seto didn’t much seem to care. That wasn’t even the difference, though. He couldn’t say what the difference was. Seto just… appealed to him.

And he was being an idiot and screwing it up. Not that raping Seto in the first place hadn’t probably irreparably screwed up their relationship anyway…

Maybe Seto was telling the truth… He was inscrutable enough, maybe he really was reading Seto wrong and he didn’t want what he thought he did… But he was as sure of his interpretation of Seto as he was of anything else – as he was of his own name. Seto was just too obstinate to see it. He didn’t want to think about himself like that… But damn it, Bakura knew that Seto wanted what he was trying to do.

Maybe he was going about it wrong. Maybe he needed to be more subtle… kind of slip it in, instead of shove it down his throat. The roses… those had seemed to work. The dress, not so much. So… subtle, maybe? Maybe that was the way to go.

His glass was refilled again. He hadn’t even realized that he’d downed the last shot… maybe he should stop drinking and go home. But if he did Ryou would just bitch him out, for being an inconsiderate asshole and for getting drunk… Was he drunk? He didn’t think so… Then again, if he had to wonder, he probably was. Shit. Well, no point in stopping now, then, was there?

Hm… if he wasn’t going to go home, what was he going to do? He couldn’t just stick around here… Hell, why should he want to? It was dirty and nasty and dark and a lot like he felt. He hadn’t meant to think that… But it was true. He felt like an asshole of the first degree. He was horrible to Seto…

That’s it. He should go apologize. He really, really should go apologize to Seto for being such a jerk…

He waved the bartender away as he was about to fill the shot glass once again and threw a handful of bills down on the bar. The man scooped them up quickly; it must have been way more than he owed. Whatever. Wasn’t like he needed it… he was marrying one of the richest men in the world later this week…

Weren’t they supposed to be leaving for Mexico like tomorrow or something? He should ask Seto… Whatever. Maybe after he apologized. He stumbled out of the bar and toward Seto’s mansion.



The day had progressed in a normal, boring manner for Seto. He’d eventually slid out of his bad mood at Bakura and Ryou and back into his cold apathy of work, but he didn’t really enjoy it. Not like he ever did, really. He’d much rather have stayed relaxed and in a good mood, though…

At least he hadn’t been thinking about Bakura and his problem all day. Thank whatever deities there were that the morning sickness seemed to be just about over with… he hadn’t thrown up all day. It made it easier to forget.

It was almost nine o’clock and he was reading through a long-winded report when he heard the door close rather clumsily, much to his surprise, and looked up quickly. Bakura was leaning against it, gazing at him from across the room with rather red eyes, then pushed himself off the support and stumbled toward him.

“What the hell do you want?” he demanded from his seat, hands paused over the keyboard.

“T’apologize…” Bakura slurred out. Seto groaned.

“God, Bakura, you’re drunk.” He got up and went toward him. Whether he was planning to help him or shove him out, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Yeah, guess so,” the thief said with a shrug that almost made him fall over. “Sorry ’bout that too…” He waved Seto away and sat on the end of the bed without help. Seto crossed his arms and looked at him.

“What do you actually want, Bakura? Have you gone home yet? Your hikari called here hours ago looking for you.”

“Ryou? Nah, haven’t gone home. I’ll tell him I’m okay, though… I’ll go home after I ’pologize…”

Seto sighed and sat behind his desk again. He didn’t want to deal with a drunken Bakura. He might just turn into an angry violent Bakura… Though this seemed more like a sad, reasonable drunk. Still… maybe he got mean easily.

“’M sorry,” Bakura said, as clearly as it seemed he could at the moment. “Sorry for being an asshole… I didn’ mean to tell you you looked gorgeous, it just kinda came out… I know you didn’t wanna hear something like that…”

Seto frowned. “What?” he said. “Why wouldn’t I–?”

“’Cause of what I did,” Bakura said impatiently, swaying a little as he waved his words away like irritating little bugs. “I know you don’t wanna hear anything like that from me after that… You prob’ly think I wanna do it again. But I don’t.”

Seto very firmly closed his mouth. He wasn’t sure he liked this drunken, apologetic Bakura much. This was the first time he’d brought up the subject of what had put them in this situation. The entire conversation was a little unbalancing; he wasn’t used to this sort of behavior at all.

And, as strange and obviously drunken as it was, it was a little reassuring to hear that Bakura had no interest in raping him again.

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Seto said finally, a little gruffly. “But surprisingly unnecessary. I… didn’t mind.”

“Course you minded…” Bakura insisted. Seto would have sweatdropped, had he been animated. He honestly didn’t. “And I was a asshole… I’m trying to make this better, ya know? And I keep screwing it up. You still hate me.”

Seto sighed and dropped his arms. “I don’t hate you,” he admitted. It couldn’t do any harm; it wasn’t like Bakura would remember in the morning anyway.

“Yes you do.” Bakura sighed heavily; he seemed entirely morose. “Why else would you argue all the time? You keep pushing every single fucking thing I do away… I keep trying, and you’re too scared to accept it.”

Seto opened his mouth to protest, and remembered what Ryou had said. Bakura had a way of understanding people… well, he probably was afraid. He was afraid to even think about liking Bakura, because then he would let his guard down.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m afraid to accept your friendly advances, because then I’ll let you get close to me and then you’ll hurt me.” It seemed a little liberating to say it. “But so what? It’s not going to drive you away anytime soon, is it?”

“No,” Bakura said, looking at him blearily. “But it’s fucking depressing, is what it is. But I’ma stay with it, ya know? ’Cause I actually like you, like, a lot. Ryou says I love you. It’s… I dunno what it is. You appeal to me, like nobody else does. Not even Ryou. Maybe it’s love.”

God, alcohol was better than sodium pentathol… if he ever wanted to know the truth about something, all he’d have to do was get Bakura drunk. Good to know, but damned uncomfortable at the moment. He never wanted to know that Bakura thought he loved him…

“But, I swear, I’m not gonna hurt you again. I figure I already screwed it up enough, right? I don’t wanna hurt you, even. And that’s strange, ’cause I wanna hurt everyone. Even Ryou, lotta times. I mean, sometimes, you piss me off, like when you’re arguing and I know you’re just in denial or some shit, and I know I’m right, and I just wanna hit you, but I don’t do it, do I? No, I don’t. ’Cause I’m trying.”

Seto swallowed once. “Just lay down,” he said, sidestepping the entire conversation. He stepped up and pulled on Bakura to help him lay down in the bed. “Sleep it off. I’ll call Ryou and tell him where you are, and you can go home when you wake up. You’d probably just wander into the road and get hit by a car anyway if I let you go now…”

“Right,” Bakura said reasonably, and lay down agreeably enough. “I already told hikari I was here. I think. I’m a little drunk, I think, so I’ll do it again, if I even did it the first time. But you don’t need to bother.”

“Uh-huh,” Seto said. “I think I’ll call him anyway.” He pulled the blanket over Bakura and went back to his computer desk, picking up the phone.

“When’re we s’posed to be going to Mexico?” Bakura asked suddenly, as Seto dialed. The brunet glanced up in surprise.

“The… day after tomorrow. Monday. I told you already.”

“Forgot…” Bakura mumbled.

“Hello?” Ryou said as he answered.

“I’ve got your psychopath here,” Seto said, looking evenly at Bakura’s motionless form. “Would you like me to buy you a leash so you can keep track of him?”

“I’m so sorry,” Ryou said quickly. “He sounded drunk when he told me – I’ll come get him.”

Seto sighed. “Don’t bother. He can sleep it off and go home in the morning, I don’t care. It’s more convenient for everyone, I suppose.”

Ryou sighed in apparent relief. “Thank you, Kaiba-kun,” he said. “For not kicking him out or something equally drastic. I guess he was rather frustrated by your argument…”

“Seems that way.”

Bakura stirred again. “Seto-chan?”

“What?” He tilted the phone away from his mouth.

“We don’t have to get married if you don’t want to…”

Seto sighed. “He’s trying to engage me in a serious conversation,” he told Ryou. “He’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, thank you again, Kaiba-kun.”

“Goodbye.” He hung up and looked again at Bakura, pondering silently.

“You don’t want to, do you?” Once again, the pale Egyptian sounded absolutely despondent.

“I…” Seto wasn’t certain how to answer that, if he was being truthful. As he apparently was, tonight. “We’re still getting married,” he finally said, without answering.

“Then we can do whatever it was that you wanted. The non-marriage marriage thing.”

“You mean not have a wedding?”

“Yeah, like that.” He rolled over and looked at Seto. “If you don’t wanna be all bridish…”

“That’s not a word.”

“Whatever.” He looked like he tried to wave his hand again, but it was trapped beneath the covers. “But – I have it all planned – but, we can still go to Mexico on Wednesday–”

“Monday,” Seto interrupted. “We’re leaving on Monday, and staying until Sunday.”

“’Kay. Wednesday.” Seto decided to go with it, not to argue. “Anyway, we’ll go, but we won’t like have the wedding and shit. We use that time to try to tolerate each other and not argue and kill each other. Like, I’ll try to go the whole time and not make you make me want to hit you because you’re being an irritating little bitch because of something I’m trying to do, ’kay?”

Seto blinked and ran the conversation back in his head. Actually, the second time through, it did make sense. “I suppose we do need to learn to coexist, if we’re going to be living together…” he finally admitted. He noticeably chose not to comment on the ‘bitch’ comment.

“Right. I’ma be living here, right?”

“I hope you weren’t expecting me to move into your apartment.”

Bakura frowned. “We wouldn’t have enough room to avoid each other if you did that,” he said. He sounded completely serious. Then again, he was right. They’d probably want to avoid each other a lot.

“There’s a room for you already,” Seto told him. “It’s on the other side of the house, on the ground floor.”

“Right.” Bakura sounded as though he had expected nothing else. “Because you’re afraid of me.” Seto opened his mouth to protest, but shut it. He was right, after all. He wouldn’t with able to sleep with Bakura sleeping on the same floor or on the same side of the house, let alone both together… God forbid the same hallway… or the same room.

Then again, he wasn’t freaking out right now. Then again, Bakura was also too drunk to walk, so that may have had something to do with it.

“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” he said. “You’re way too drunk to remember this conversation in the morning; I’m just going to have to tell you again tomorrow.”

“Kay,” Bakura said, and closed his eyes. “So we’re doing the Mexico thing?”

He sighed. “Yes, we’re doing the Mexico thing. I’ll leave Mokuba here with your hikari, and we can spend it alone… pass it off as the… honeymoon… if anyone asks…” The idea itself made him uncomfortable. Honeymoon? Everyone in the world knew what a honeymoon was for. It was unreasonable, but he didn’t want people to think that he would actually sleep with Bakura of his own free will… Not that he’d have a choice in their thoughts. They’d be married. What else were people supposed to think?

Bakura slid out of the bed before he said anything else. Seto watched him curiously, but he just stumbled his way over to him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Seto didn’t even bother to get tense. Bakura wasn’t going to do anything to him.

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring…?” he asked plaintively. “It looks good on you… it suits you.”

“I took it off when I took a bath,” Seto told him without looking at him, pulling it from his pocket. The arms wrapped around his shoulders made the movements awkward, but not unmanageable. “I… forgot.” It was a lie, but a white one. He slid it onto his finger, and Bakura grabbed his hand before it dropped. He just inspected it for a moment, then he lifted it and kissed the back of his fingers before Seto quite realized what he was doing.

“It’s gorgeous,” Bakura slurred out. “Just like you. ’Cept you don’t wanna hear it, right?”

“I don’t mind…” Seto admitted, still without looking at him. “I… thought, because you didn’t say anything, that you didn’t like how I looked in the dress…” It was okay to admit it, because Bakura couldn’t possibly remember this coherently…

“I didn’t wanna scare you,” Bakura told him. He was still holding his hand, Seto noticed vaguely. He didn’t bother to remove it. “But you looked like how Mokuba said… you looked beautiful or whatever. You always do. You’re not in a dress now, and you looked beautiful now…”

Seto bit the inside of his lip and gently pried Bakura’s arms away, though the thief refused to release his hand. He’d probably never been more uncomfortable in his life. “Go to bed,” he ordered.

“Come with me,” he responded immediately.

“I don’t think so.” He managed to show no sign of his uncomfortably racing heart.

“Please?” Bakura said. He was still holding his hand, and tugged drunkenly on it. “I swear, I won’t do anything. But Ryou always sleeps with me and it’s hard to sleep alone, and I want you there, okay?”

Seto sighed. “No.”

“You have to sleep,” Bakura said. “And it’s night time now, isn’t it?” Seto nodded, because the question didn’t seem rhetorical. “Right. So you have to sleep, because it’s not healthy for you to stay up all the time. And it’s not good for the baby.”

Seto’s mouth fell momentarily agape yet again, before he slid it closed. That was the first time any of them had mentioned the baby aloud, too… the subject seemed taboo. It was, really. He imagined the others thought it would make him uncomfortable, and he new for a fact it would make him uncomfortable… But Bakura was probably right. It probably wasn’t good for the baby for him to be sleep deprived and tired…

“Fine,” he said. “But it’s not because I want to…” He stood up finally, and Bakura leaned against him for support.

“I know. Thanks anyway.” He almost fell back into the bed and crawled under the covers.

Seto sighed again and turned away from Bakura to change his clothes. As far as he could tell, Bakura wasn’t watching, but it didn’t hurt to make sure he didn’t see anything anyway. Just in case.

Bakura murmured something as he tentatively slid into his own bed, and immediately wrapped one arm tightly around him. He tensed for a moment, then made himself relax. Bakura already seemed mostly asleep.

He turned onto his side; Bakura pulled him closer. He made himself stay relaxed. It wasn’t so bad, he guessed… kind of like being used as a teddy bear.

“You smell nice,” Bakura mumbled drunkenly, just before an obvious snore came from him. Seto smiled slightly and closed his eyes.