My Name Is Yuugi

Warnings: Yaoi, Yuri, Lemon, graphic descriptions...
Pairings: YxY, plus other implied pairings.
Chapter: 3/?
Author's Note: I'm glad to get to this chapter. I'm so used to writing scenes or chapters like this that I think it'll come much easier than the last chapter did. I still think I'll end up tweaking chapter two, because I know it would be a lot harder for a celebrity to hide that they're a different gender. >.> Chapters 4 and above will be set in 3rd person POV. These first three serve to explain what the secret is, how it's hidden, who knows, and the relationship Yuugi has with his Yami despite it.

Ah, yes, my precious Yami... My reason for living. I praise the deities every morning that he's still with me. He's the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I see before I fall asleep. Cliché, I know, but it's true. We still share the same room after all this time... and for many reasons.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of just looking at him. His physique is absolutely perfect in my eyes. Those lightly toned muscles rippling under tanned skin with every movement is enough to make my bones turn into marshmallow fluff. The manner in which he moves... it's slow, methodical, and smooth... almost erotic. The wild spikes of hair so much like my own are soft like silk, making him into my personal petting toy.

And his eyes...

His sharp crimson eyes are so expressive and deep... When he looks at someone, it makes them feel like he can see into their very soul. It wouldn't surprise me if he could. Those eyes could go from smiling to murderous in a millisecond. It doesn't help that they're framed by long, dark lashes that any girl would kill to have.

No, I could never get tired of looking at my Yami. But I do get tired of his attitude. Like my gender, there are secrets about our relationship that we hide.

We aren't always perfect...

Sometimes he forgets that I'm his aibou, his hikari, the other half of his soul, and he acts as though I'm an opponent in a duel that he's obligated to be around. He turns cold. Distrusting. Elusive. Annoyed. Angry. I often get upset about it, and I waste no time bringing it to his attention. It's led to numerous arguments, but I don't regret it. He's the one who gave me strength. It's his own fault.

My side of it is always the fact that he has no right to treat his own hikari this way, and that I deserve some attention, too. I don't expect every moment of his days to be spent with me, but what I can't stand is being cast aside like I'm a video game that he's tired of trying to beat. I'm not the best person in the world, either... And I do get jealous and scared. I become deathly scared that someone will swoop in and steal him away in this modern world, and that I'll be left completely, totally, and utterly...

Alone.

His side of it? "We aren't together, Yuugi. Stop being jealous, Yuugi. Get over it, Yuugi. I'm busy, Yuugi. I can do whoever and whatever I want, Yuugi. YOU AREN'T THE ONLY DAMN ONE, YUUGI."

Needless to say, it escalates to the point where we can't stand each other. He maintains that we aren't together, locked in a relationship, but in a way we are, to a certain point. He's become so different to me in his own body that he can't handle or understand my 'female' emotions. But I won't hide them. I think that my strong emotions are part of the reason he won't limit himself to me... I think he's afraid. Nah, strike that. I know he's afraid. What he's scared of is the mystery...

Perhaps I'm just not enough. Maybe spending millennia locked in a gold object has left him with the feeling of needing love and attention from EVERYONE.

Unfortunately for me, this includes physically, as well.

He's slept with other people, and he made no secret of it. I've felt hurt and betrayed, and yet every time, he deepens the cut by pounding into my head that he's not mine... and that he may never be. He loves me, I know, and I love him. It angers him to know that I want him to myself and that I don't want to share. We've had awful fights, screaming at the top of our lungs inexplicably horrible things to each other that we don't mean to say.

We're not perfect... Oh, no, not by a long shot. When it's bad, it's terrible.

But when it's good... Ooh, we're so good.

The whole gang knows how we are together, and they tease us mercilessly. Being my best buddy, Jounouchi constantly begs me to share our 'stories of sexy time.' He asks for such vivid details that, even after all I've learned about the subject, it still causes the blood to rush to my cheeks and flood my face with color. Neither one of us feel guilt while sharing our stories... Embarrassment, however, is the first thing that floods through our mental connection when the stories come out.

Even notice that I said 'stories?' Oh, yes... Our physical relationship isn't as it's told. Yami and I joke amongst ourselves that we should write fiction.

I'll tell Jounouchi how Yami looks at me with those soft and caring eyes... but my mind replaces that with the memory of how those blood red orbs will examine my body inch by inch, pausing to stare at my breasts for a longer moment, an obvious darkness and primal expression showing through them.

While I dreamily tell Jounouchi about how loving and sweet Yami's kisses are, I envision the way his lips can clash into and ravish my own feverishly, asserting his dominance... The way his teeth nip and bite into my neck, shoulders, and chest as he leaves marks claiming me as his own... and the way he devours my taste greedily.

As I explain how my other half slowly caresses me, soaking in each detail of my bare body every time, my mind's eye replays how his hands grab and grip me to his own body tightly... Possessively. I can't help but tingle as I remember his nails and heated palms raking over my sweaty, much paler skin, kneading and stroking.

When I'm leaning back against whatever I happen to be propped up on, breathing with a light smile how careful and thoughtful Yami is in preparing me, I can't push back the vision of him above me, eyes darkened with untameable lust, breath coming out in fevered pants and groans as he angles his thrusts so perfectly into my pliant and willing body, claiming my entire being and drowning me so far in the pool of pleasure that I just...

Explode.

A familiar blush always rises to my cheeks while I tell one story and remember another, that familiar heat growing in my lower stomach and the sudden sensation of becoming wet and bothered bringing me back to my senses. I'll always absently brush a lock of hair away from my face, excuse myself from Jounouchi, and seek out that imp of a yami that I can hate and yet love so much at the same time. I'll lean forward, my chest pressed against his back as I brush a finger across the back of his neck and whisper into his ear, and that same satisfied smirk always comes to his face. He'll tilt his head up to murmur whatever obscene acts of lust he's conjuring for me, press a kiss upon the corner of my mouth, and either return to what he was doing... or take my hand and lead me to a more private place where he could just show me instead.

It's not to say that it's complete fiction... Yami is perfectly capable of being kind and gentle with me. We often cuddle on the sofa and watch a television show, or I'll watch him work mindlessly at his laptop on whatever project he's fixated on. He'll give me small, soft kisses throughout the day, just to show affection. And he's very... very capable of making love instead of rough, mad sex.

But it seems to me that the possessive side of my Yami is what invades my memory... the times where he shows me what I can do to him.

Oh, yes... My Yami and I are definitely in love.