Warning: Silly humor. Slight Angst.

Pairings: Monarchshipping. Rivalshipping

Life's Priceless Rewards ll

The thing about being a father to an emotionally sensitive son, Yami realized, is that it's never difficult to know when he was happy, sad, angry or disappointed.

One of those emotions immediately honed in on Yami's parental senses as he watched his son stalk around the corner and through the gate opening leading to the back of the house. Four-years-old, a heart made of solid gold and a personality that could charm even the coldest villains—at least as far as Yami had assumed until today—it came as no surprise that his son would feel so utterly put off after being not rejected once, but twice.

Trying to decide on the best course of action to take with temperamental child left a notably helpless sensation in Yami's mind, as if a thousand course spider legs were prickling him tauntingly. Yami hadn't felt this way since he had to tell his son the reason why his mother was never going to wake up again. Yugi was so bright, and so sweet spirited . . . Yami sighed and shook his head. Standing outside, staring at the house as if it were at a new address, wouldn't solve any of son's problems.

Yami resolved himself to trying to conjure up explanation for the orphan child's cold brush off as he walked around the house and walked inside to the sight of Atem Copper sitting at the dinner table with their eldest child, Atem's child, fifteen-year-old Mana Copper and a spread of playing cards before them.

It was as he shrugged off his pea coat and unraveled his scarf from his neck that Yami started and glanced up again at the dinner table when a deep-throated growl purged from Atem's lips. Mana sat across from him with her head cocked on top of her fist, cards in her hand and a disarming smile so remarkably similar to her father's.

Yami found he wasn't even tempted to laugh at Atem's attire being nothing but a pair of silk red boxers, and black tube socks, which meant that his daughter had yet again conned him out of his clothes and probably his wallet too.

"Do I even want to know?" He asked, gesturing at Atem's naked torso.

Atem slammed his hand of cards down on the table. "I'll say you don't—the wicked heifa—she tricked me outta my drawers again!"

Mana flicked her wrist at him in return. "Tsk, tsk, tsk old man, you know name callin's beneath us. Take your ass whoopin' like you're supposed too." She leaned forward, eyes fixed on his scowl and right palm, tauntingly cupped in his face. "Now hurry up and gimme your socks."

Atem's mouth twisted. "Lil hefia."

"Hey, hey, hey, better glad I'm not askin' for your stank drawers too!"

"You'd probably like to see your old man prancing around in his birthday suit wouldn't you?"

"Ew, eh no. . ." Mana suddenly grinned, raising one eyebrow as if to appraise what the offer. "But let's keep that on the back burner. I might bet a day of you walking around naked for my friends when they come over."

Yami let out a laugh. "No, baby girl. You leave that part for my eyes only." He winked at Atem, who gave an air kiss for the save. "So, where has your brother stomped off too?"

"Where else?" Atem knocked twice on the table. "Yo' come on out squirt, Daddy's here."

"What?" Yami had noticed the extra line of color beneath the tablecloth until it scooted closer to Atem's side. Moments later a huff and pouty noise came out in the form of little Yugi climbing up Atem's legs and straddling his waist to hide his face in his chest; one of his favorite perches whenever he was very upset.

Atem managed to balance the toddler with one hand while setting out the deal for the next round of cards with Mana. "Guessin' that kid didn't wanna be friends again," he targeted the obvious with relative ease and nodded absently at Yugi's sulky whimper. "Figures, the smartass. It's all right baby boy. It's his loss. Anyone with a heartbeat would want to be friends with you."

Yugi pulled his head back with watery eyes. "Then why doesn't he wanna be friends with me, Papa?"

Atem poked his forehead. "Didn't you hear me, son? I said anyone with a heartbeat. Demons don't count."

"Atem!" Yami scolded sharply. "Don't start that now."

Atem turned around to scowl at him and then he gave a faintly soft smile for Yugi, bending down so his chin rested on the child's head. "Here's the deal kiddo. Like I told you yesterday you're gonna have some who don't wanna be helped, who ain't gonna wanna be friends with you. No matter how many times you extend your hand, at some point, you're gonna get tired of it being slapped. Save that friendly stuff for the kids at your school, kapeesh?"

"But Daddy says you're 'posed to be nice to all peoples."

Yami's proud smile quirked up on the side before his hand came to rest on his hip. Storing kindhearted qualities in his son seemed to always come to ahead when he was faced with a problem. Yugi sort out alternatives of kindness no matter how many times it's thrown back in his face. Yami loved that most about his son and was relieved that it was a trait he passed down to him.

However, Atem didn't abide by the same code of conduct . . . that still took some getting used too even after three years into his and Yami's relationship.

"Not everyone's deserving of that gold heart of yours." The finger used to poke Yugi's forehead was gently jabbed under his chin, gently curling back and forth. "Buck up. Don't you dare let some stuck up piece of shit get you down, you understand? Those eyes are too gorgeous to be full of tears." He stroked the few swelled droplets trailing down Yugi's rosy cheeks.

Yugi rubbed his tiny fists over his eyes as the tears began to flow freely as he dropped his face back on Atem's chest, shoulders buckling and legs squeezed tight around his Papa's waist.

Yami made to walk over, but at Atem's extended hand, held his ground. It wasn't easy, having to stand there and watch the sadness literally tumbling from those eyes and know that they came from something other than joy.

His side is suddenly stabbed hard with an intrusive finger and then his arm grew heavy with the weight of Mana's head. He smiled at her secretly loving nature, one that took a very long time to nurture.

She took the longest to adjust to the change between her father and Yami, going from being tossed from foster home to foster home until Atem managed to straighten out his hardened lifestyle and came to find Yami as his escape from criminal life.

The influence of that way of living nearly ensnared her in the street's deadly traps. It was difficult still for her to get through the days from time to time, but Yami's constant attention and desire to be there, helped prove that not everyone was as uncaring as her mother was.

Yami cradled her into his side and dropped his cheek on her head.

"Who's the asshole that made 'em cry?" she mumbled under her breath, strictly for Yami's ears.

"Language baby girl, and don't even bother. The kid's knee high to a duck."

"So," she pouted, glaring up at him through her lashes. "That's never stopped me before. If they're big enough to pop off at the mouth, they're big enough to get popped in it. You know I can't stand seein' 'em cry. The shit pisses me off."

"Baby girl," Yami breathed warningly.

Mana stubbornly glared off to the side. "Fine, but if he comes home cryin' again, I'll risk jail time." She tip toed to kiss his cheek and shrugged away. Mana stopped by Atem's chair, holding her arms out. "C'mon kiddo."

Yugi peeked out and willingly crawled into her arms. Mana narrowed her eyes over her shoulder at her parents before disappearing out of the dining room with Yugi's face tucked in her neck. Atem and Yami waited for the children to be out of hearing range before turning to one another with resembling disapproving stares.

"What?" Atem snippily replied at Yami crossing his arms. "The kid's gotta grow a back bone or else he's gonna his feelings hurt every time someone's pissy at 'em. Can't do that if you're always there to pacify the situation."

"I never pacify," Yami crossly retorted. "I neutralize. Having a gentler response to rejection should always resolve to simply ignoring it for good. If that's the way he should treat everyone, Yugi will miss out on meeting important people in his life."

Atem sucked his teeth as he climbed to his feet, gathering the playing cards and his pile of clothes off the floor. "Well, missing out on those 'important' will probably keep the brat from suffering heartbreak every damn time someone gives him a fat F U." He tossed one narrow stare over his shoulder before stalking down the hall to their shared bedroom with Yami hot on his trail, voice low and upset.

"Just because negativity is how you choose to response to life doesn't mean Yugi should as well." Yami shut the door, locked it and pressed his back against it as if to prevent Atem's possible escape from the conversation. "I don't want that sort of attitude instilled in my son."

Atem paused where he'd been tugging on a pair of jeans and slowly dropped his head low at a sharp angle so that every bit of his fiery gaze was visible in the dimly lit room.

"Your son, huh? Suddenly the kid's your son whenever I try to give my fatherly advice. Suddenly Yugi's your son when I say something out of the way. Suddenly Yugi's your son, if I so much as attempt to make sure his manhood is installed when it seems all you wanna do is make him into a pussy. The fuck outta my face with that, Yami." Atem roughly waved his hand at Yami and gave him his back, continuing to search through his drawers for a t-shirt. "Talkin' about he's your son. The boy's as much as mine as Mana's yours. Or are we still on that bit about marriage being the thing that keeps us from sealing the parental deal."

"If that were the case, I wouldn't have agreed when you asked me."

"Right and all we've done these last three years is shack up. Got the ring, but no wedding." Atem snorted as he stomped over to the bed and flopped down on the edge, scouring through his nightstand cabinet for his cigarette stash. He found the box, retrieved the white stick—well aware of how much Yami despised the scent—and fished around for a lighter. "So what's holding you back? My criminal record? The fact I'm ten years older without a college degree under my belt like you? My kid? My imperfect speech pattern? Or my unbleeding heart?" Atem lit his cig and leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees ready for the fight he purposely provoked.

And seeing how tightly clenched Yami's fists were, the younger man looked ready to thrown blows in a wrestling match.

"Why do you always make it seem like it's my fault you're the way you are? Why must it always be about you? For once, think about someone else for a change! Like the child in there who's crying his heart out because he can't grasp on why his 'Papa' told him to forget about trying to help those who are obviously in need!"

Atem took a long drag and let the plume of smoke filter through his nostrils. "I point out my flaws to remind you that you're the one that welcomed me into your near perfect life with Yugi included. Despise knowin' I ain't perfect, you've allowed me to be there to nurture him. For three years, I've watched that kid grow, I've watched him cry, I've been there for a lot of his firsts, yet I still haven't earned the privilege of telling him what's good and what's bad. That kid," he gestured out the window supposedly for the rude orphan, "has the look of someone who's done seeking help. He's done. After being let down so many times, you start seeing life through a new set of eyes. And just because you see one difference doesn't mean the rest of the world is gonna be the same way."

Yami let out a long, tired sigh. "All it takes is one person to make a difference in someone's life."

Atem snorted again and stuck the cigarette in his mouth. "If you believe that fairy tale bull, then I don't know why the hell you bothered gettin' with me."

"Because you're the result of these fairy tale feelings, idiot."

Atem almost blamed his chest cough on the smoke caught in his windpipe, but knew it could only be the fault of the vanilla skinned man who shoved off the door and started making his way to him.

"I remember," Yami started slowly, approaching with perfectly placed steps, "very clearly, the day I was at the shopping center, in the middle of the night, alone with my one-year-old son, after a long day at work. The parking lot was empty, the streetlights dim and every shadow a potential threat. I, of course, didn't see the danger, wasn't bothered to check because, why would I? I'm a professionally trained black belt, can bench press three times my body weight, and I've crushed many of my opponents in court one sentence. Yet with all my educational smarts, and physically body, I wasn't able to predict the antics of a toddler."

Yami stopped in front of him with a smile so soft and small, it instantly dissolved whatever fight Atem had in him. Atem looked up at him through those darkened eyebrows and reflected a new kind of glow in his eyes. Goosebumps crawled up his skin as Yami's index finger trailed over the curve of Atem's cheek, along the arch of his jaw and then curled under his chin.

"My back was turned a mere moment, a single second when I'd let Yugi's hand go to put away our groceries. When I reached out for his hand, I grab air. It was the longest second of my life when I called out his name and heard nothing back. My heart throbs, my palms sweat and as I called him near frantic, I don't hear a thing back."

Tears welled up in his eyes. Atem's instincts immediately overwhelm him to reach out keep those sharp, Japanese eyes from becoming glossy. Yami catches his hand and brings it to his lips, placing a moist kiss on his palm. The tears unleashed themselves in pearl clear paths, falling over Yami's smiling lips.

"In a parking lot I assumed was empty, there had been someone else there waiting, lurking. He had my child in his arms. He was running with my child. He was going to take my heart away with him in a dark Sedan. Yugi didn't utter a word, but how could he, so stricken with fear. I was as scared as he was, unable to move, unable to speak as I watched him take my child away."

Yami tilted his forehead forward and pressed his and Atem's together.

"In a parking lot seemingly holding only myself, my son and that man, there had been someone else there, minding his own business. That someone else hears my cry for help and he's there to save my son before he's taken from my life." He chuckles. "And may I add, he kicked the ever loving shit out of him too."

Atem smiles and closes his eyes, nuzzling his nose against Yami's. "That's . . . different from—"

"You didn't allow me to finish," Yami's smile widen. "My dear heroine just so happened to be ready to break into my car." The undercurrent amusement still makes Atem's cheeks glow to a dark burgundy shade against his heresy brown skin. "I knew you were rough, I knew you hated the world because of its unfairness to you. But if it was so unfair, why save the child of a person who is a product of the perfect world you hated so much?"

"Babe, someone was kidnappin' your child."

"And you were trying to steal my car. Despite circumstances, I could have easily called the police and turned you both in . . . but I didn't. I foolishly think to invite my son's savior and my potential car thief to dinner. A thief is still a thief right? Someone like you with nowhere to go is given a home to stay, a chance to make a difference in life . . . my hero," Yami whispers. "My once criminal, sexy hero now manages his own car shop, protects us from danger and whispers his love to me every night." There was one drawn moment of no words, no moves, nothing before Yami lays his head on Atem's shoulder and straddles his waist, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "And one person doesn't make a difference?"

Atem holds him to his chest, rubbing warm slow circles on Yami's back and quietly remembering the night years ago, that changed his perspective on some things.

"I fuckin' hate when you pull that shit with me," Atem grumbles, digging his fingers through the spiky folds of colorful hair. "Now I gotta sit here and think about how the hell I'm gonna get the kid to give that other brat a chance."

"You can do that later." Yami's hands snaked down Atem's shoulders, and his arms squeezing the bulking biceps flexing beneath the shirt. "Every time I think about that night, I remember what happened a month later. . ." he kissed Atem's neck ". . . in the back of my car. . ." Yami licked the thick chord of muscle there ". . . at the city park. . ." And sucked on a patch of skin that'd be blushing purple by the time he was done. ". . . damn I howled like a bitch . . . I wanna remember that night."

That husky, sultry purr shot staggering jolts to Atem's loins. With teeth nibbling gingerly up the side of his neck, and thick tongue creeping up to fuck his ear, there wasn't a doubt in Atem's mind that he'd be having Yami howling louder than a bitch in heat. . .

"I don't like him 'cause he—cause he—cause he's a stupid head, ugly and gots a big nose!"

"Uh-huh."

"And he smells like Granny Mai's perfume stuffs!"

"'Cause we both know how much that shit stinks."

"Yep, that shit stinks."

Mana smacked Yugi on the back of the head hard enough to loosen teeth. She ignored his yelp of pain, while scooping another ball of ice cream in his bowl.

"Ouch," he whined, toes curled from the pain. "Why hit me, Sissy?"

"How many times I gotta tell you to watch your damn mouth?"

"What'd I say?" Yugi whimpered on the verge of tears.

"A naughty adult word."

Yugi rubbed over his sore crown tenderly, however found himself put off by his contradictive sister. "But you say naughty word stuffs too!"

"Because I'm fifteen and entitled to say whatever the hell I want."

Yugi pouted but said didn't argue on it further in case she decided to test her strength a second time.

"Now," Mana started, taking the stool next to his. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders to keep him steady. "Tell Sissy about this kid again."

Yugi's bottom lip stuck out further. "I don't wanna anymore." He folded his chucky arms, uninterested in his bowl of ice cream. "He scream at my daddy. And he and he said he don't wanna be my friend."

"Aww, he did?"

"Uh-huh," Yugi opened his mouth suddenly interested in the ice cream again and hummed pleasantly when Mana scooped a spoonful in his mouth. "He stupid face. . . I just wanna be friends."

"I know baby boy, I know. But sometimes not everyone wants to be friends with you. He's probably jealous of you."

Yugi's big eyes got big. "Really?" he whispered in awe. "He's jelly of me? How come?"

Mana melted. "'Cause you have the cutest widdle cheeks in the whole damn universe!" She pinched his cheeks and giggled when Yugi batted her hands away. "Real talk, kiddo, I don't know what Sissy can tell you that—" Mana went quiet and turned her face down the hallway. At first, she wore a small, confused frown and leaned her ear closer.

Yugi didn't understand why so he did as well.

"Hm," Mana shrugged. "Anyway, I don't know what to tell you that Pop hadn't already. The kid's got a stick up his ass and needs someone to pull it out."

"Oh," Yugi thought that if he had a stick in his booty he would be stomping mad too.

Mana repeated her actions a second time and without warning, a majorly wicked grin spread across her face. "Listen, kiddo why don't you go ask Daddy and Pop why the boy has a stick up his butt." Mana picked Yugi up and carefully placed him on the floor. She lightly patted his butt and sent him waddling down the hall to their parent's bedroom.

Yugi thought it was a fun idea to ask his parents that. If they could tell him why that boy has a stick up his butt, then maybe they could be friends after all. He walked up to the bedroom door and knocked twice. He heard a funny sound and pressed his ear against the door.

"Uh . . . uh . . . yes. . . God yes."

"You like that baby. . ."

"Yes Daddy yes. . ."

Yugi blinked and stared up at the door. Was there a baby in there? Papa did ask Daddy if he liked the baby or was it Daddy who called Papa, Daddy. "Huh?" Yugi frowned thoughtfully and sat outside the door, to listen some more.

"Shit you feel so good. . ."

". . . Uh spank me baby . . . spank me hard. . ."

A particularly deep grunt scared him flat on his butt. It sounded him Papa was hurting his Daddy. But why? Daddy doesn't get spankings. That's when Yugi gasped, hands flying to his mouth. What if Papa was mad at Daddy and spanking him like he did Yugi when he took extra cookies. Oh no!

"Uh God, please!"

Yugi panicked and started banging on the door. "No! Stop hurting my daddy!" He shrieked, jiggled the handle and with child-like strength forced his way in, screaming at the top of his lungs, fists wagging. "Stop it! Stop it! Leave him alone!"

The room is suddenly quiet, all eyes, all stares, and all gaping mouths. Yugi blinked, paused stiff with his fists in the air as he took in the oddest play position he had ever seen his fathers in. The sheets were tangled in a disarray, wrapped tight around Papa's waist and obstructing the lower half of his daddy. Papa had his hands on Daddy's wrists, holding his hands above his head and . . . Yugi innocently tilted his head to the side.

"Daddy . . . Papa . . . what—what cha' doing?"

If there was ever a time Yami wanted a gigantic hole to swallow him whole, it'd be now. "Y-Yugi, I . . ." he slowly stammers unable to grasp the fact that his son had just walked in on them.

"Papa hurting you?" Yugi pitifully conveyed looking between the two.

Yami wished he could lift his knee to slam Atem in the stomach for biting his lip to keep from laughing and making Yami's embarrassment twice as bad. "N-No love, Papa's not hurting Daddy."

"You promise?"

"Yes, son. Can you go back to the room with Sissy for Daddy?"

"But what cha' doing?"

To the pair's utter horror, Yugi started walking closer to the bed.

"Yugi," Atem strains through his teeth. "Hey, hey, stop right there!"

Yugi folds his arms on the edge of the bed, gazing directly at the awkward formed lumps under the sheet where he thought his fathers legs were supposed to be but they looked like a bunch of mountains. Yugi reaches out to touch one of the lumps and gasps. When his Papa jumped over, so did the lump.

Yami swallowed and said, "Atem . . . back out of the garage, slowly, but now."

Atem gave him a stupid look. "But baby, this kind of car doesn't go in reverse."

Yami flushed, peeked under the sheets and said through clenched teeth. "Then take the brakes off neutral and push the stick shift back."

"But I'm about to have an oil leak."

"I don't care!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes!"

As Atem does as he's told, Yami's hips follow behind, jerking down. The two shared a worried look, Yami's face turning red hot and Atem smirking apologetically. "See? What'd I tell you?"

"But Yugi is . . ."

Speaking of which, he eased himself near his father's head and excitedly said, "You playing with cars, Daddy? Or . . . are you gonna take a bath? You're naked."

"Atem, please, get up and take our child back in the room!"

"Maybe if you'd let the garage up!" Atem took a deep breath and angled his head around to face their curious toddler.

"Papa," Yugi whimpers softly. "You hurting Daddy?"

"No kiddo, Papa—oh, shit—P-Papa, i-isn't hurting Daddy at all." Atem manages to squeeze out through gritting teeth. "Go back in the room with Mana, kapeesh?"

"But . . ."

"Please, son, please."

"But I wanna play cars too."

"Trust me, son. We aren't playing cars."

"Then what 'cha doing?"

"Important, um . . . adult stuff," Atem mumbles and shallowly thrusts his hips forward. Yami's eyes flutter shut as he discreetly pushes back. "Oh mercy— please son, I'm begging you to go back in the room. Papa can't wait much longer."

Yugi's bottom lip tremors. The two men groan. Atem had enough. "Mana!" His deep voice booms through the house. "Come in here and get your brother—"

"No, fool, are you crazy!" Yami snaps, slapping the back of his head. "It's bad enough he caught us!"

"You actin' like Mana doesn't know what dick is."

"What's dick?" Yugi questions.

Oh hell no. Yami squirms until he unhooks himself from Atem's dick and pushes him to the side. Wrapping the sheets around his waist, Yami ushers his son back into the room.

Minutes later, Mana appears in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear at her father's frustrated expression. "Sooo, guess he heard ya huh?"

Atem rolls on his side and then it dawns on him. Yugi couldn't have heard them if . . . son of a bitch. "Mana!" But she was already dancing down the hall, laughing.

Atem flopped on his back, throwing his arm over eyes. If it wasn't his emotionally sensitive son driving him up the wall, it was his damn daughter trying her hardest to see what type of ass whooping Atem could dish out. What a family.

"Check mate, Mokie."

Mokuba pushed away from the table and kneeled in front of the chess set. He checked around every angle of the board, but no matter where he viewed it, the king had indeed made its place on his side.

"Wow, Seto!" Mokie stood, clapping his hands. "That's the third time in a row!"

Seto smirked. "That wasn't bad for your third time either Mokie. It took me longer to beat you."

"Nah, no way. I bet you took a long time on purpose." Mokie returned the smile before getting up from the snack table. Most of the children were nearly gone, most having sold cookies to raise money for a field trip to the Christmas Day Museum. Selling cookies was beneath them too apparently, according to Seto. It was an activity he and Mokuba didn't participate in.

One of the caretakers stayed after to keep an eye on them. Most of the time, they stayed inside, playing chess or blocks. Seto made it his personal business to ensure Mokuba didn't end up as simple minded as the rest of the horde of ignorant children. By stacking blocks, making Mokuba count them, making Mokuba fit the shapes in their proper holes and making him read the more advanced picture books, Seto knew by the time a parent was actually dumb enough to adopt them, they'd have two intelligent children instead of one.

"Come on, let's play again." Seto suggested, resetting the board.

Mokuba hadn't heard him. In fact, while Seto's head had been bowed, Mokuba had snuck off somewhere.

Seto pushed back his chair. "Mokie?" No answer. "Mokuba!" Seto checked all the play stations, the nap room and the snack room, but none had his baby brother inside. Feeling a tad worried, Seto hurried over to the window, eyes darting from one end of the yard to the other.

He found Mokuba near the fence, their private little sector of freedom from the other children. He was hanging on the fence, bouncing on the tip of his toes and not alone. Seto snarled lowly and rushed to the back door, throwing it open and sprinting as fast as his legs could take him.

"Some people just don't learn," he huffed.

". . . my daddy says I can give it to you," Seto walked into hearing that part and Mokuba's enthusiastic laughter. "Really? That's so cool. I never had anyone give me a present before!"

A present? Seto's eyes hardened. "What's going on over here?"

The small children jumped a part at the sharp tone. Mokuba relaxed at seeing it was only Seto. Yugi on the other hand reminded stiff from head to toe. He wasn't dressed in his uniform like before. No, wait, of course he wouldn't be. Isn't this the time of their school vacation?

Yugi was wearing a pair of red corduroy pants, a white turtleneck, and a fluffy red Santa hat. A pink blush exploded on his chunky cheeks as his arms protectively hugged the two gift boxes to his chest.

"Look Seto!" Mokuba ran over to grab his brother's hand and dragged him closer to the fence. "Yugi brought us presents! Real presents for us! Isn't that great?"

"Wonderful," Seto snippily mumbled. He folded his arms. "So, what'd you bring us? Hand me downs? Old toys you don't want anymore. Or a few cheap trinkets from the thrift shop?"

"You little shit!"

The three boys jumped at the shriek that came from across the street. A girl with gigantic hair was running over towards them. She tried to anyway, until a man with the same skin complexion appeared out of nowhere and scooped her up over his shoulder and carried her back across the street, kicking and screaming the whole time.

"Hell no, lemme go, Pop! Talkin' about a stupid thrift shop! Is he for real? I used my snack money for those gifts you brat! Pop, I swear if you don't lemme go—"

Yugi sighed. "Sorry," he mumbled to the wide-eyed brothers. "That's my sissy."

"You have an older sister?" Seto asked.

"Huh-uh, and two daddies."

"Two fathers? So your parents are. . ." Seto caught the world before it left his lips. "I've never . . . heard of anyone having two fathers."

Yugi's smile grew. "My daddies and Sissy helped me get you this stuff." Yugi's expression saddened a little as he looked at the gifts, then at the height of the chain link fence.

Seto folded his arms, reluctantly tilting his head down at the miniature child. "Why are you so bent on being friends with us?"

Yugi shrugged. "'Cause I want too."

"It's not as simple as that, little boy. Everyone does something for a reason. Even small children."

"Um," Yugi's lips pulsed together and inwardly hoped he said the right thing. "I like you?"

"But you don't know me?"

Mokuba rolled his eyes. "That's because you won't let him get to know us, Seto."

"Hush, Mokie," Seto chastised. He wanted to test something with this kid. Everyone has an ulterior motive. Simply saying he liked him wasn't going to cut it.

There was a quiet pause, then Yugi blurted. "Do you really have a stick up your booty?"

Seto blanched. "Excuse me?!"

A shout of laughter came from behind. Seto snapped his head around and caught sight of that older girl that'd been about to attack earlier. And to Seto's surprise, Mokuba fell into the laughter as well, shamelessly choking up behind his hands.

Unfolding his arms to run a hand down his face, Seto felt torn between climbing over the fence to snatch the kid by his hair, walking back inside to ignore him all together or . . . smiling at the big-eyed innocence that hadn't an inkling as to of how insulting his question was. The latter of the three seemed the most likely to occur because the more Seto stood there actually drowning in the heavily bright, enormously colorful, very short kid, the sensation to grin grew.

His cheek rested on the palm of his hand as he cocked his head to the other side. "You really are as dumb as you look," he said softly amused.

Yugi pouted. "I'm not dumb! I'm this many!" He held up four stubby fingers with a determined pout of his lips to prove his intelligence. "I can say my ABCs, I spelled my name by myself and—and I can count to this many!" He put the boxes on the ground and displayed all ten fingers erect.

"Sure, kid. I bet you can." Seeing as Yugi had not captured both his and Mokuba's attention, Seto rolls his eyes and beckons for Yugi to following him down the line of the fence, where it started to shrink in height because of the sidewalks declining hill. Towards the end, Seto was able to perch his hands on top and lean over. "Pass the presents here."

Yugi beamed. "OK!" He reached as high as his tip toes could stretch and giggled when Seto managed to retrieve both presents at once.

The children sat on the ground, Seto and Mokuba in the cold, grassy play yard and Yugi on the chilly, concrete sidewalk. But, none of them cared, not as much as they did either opening the gifts or watching with glee as the paper tore away to reveal what's inside.

Mokuba's gasp came as if it were sucked from his lungs with a vacuum. "This is so cool! Wow, look Seto!" Mokuba cheerfully held up an actual Gameboy advance with three games beneath the box, plus a Christmas card. Mokuba's eyes shun like a spring sky. "Thanks Yugi!"

Yugi shyly giggled behind his gloved hands. "It's OK." He peeked through his fingers, waiting for Seto's reaction to his gift.

Seto was more careful, appreciative of the care and precision it took to neatly patch the box together. He lifted the box and looked inside. He sucked in sharply and reached inside. "I . . . don't know what to say," he mumbled, pulling out a silver plated IPad.

Brand new.

What could he say? He'd expected some kind of childish device, an immature children's toy that he would easily insult and degrade and prove that there was no hope in hell of this kid knowing how to earn his respect. But. . . none of those words could appear to verbally convey any of that.

"I told my Daddy you say big words and stuffs," Yugi said, fingers grasping at the chain link fence. "He said smart boys get smart stuffs. You a big boy, so you get big boy stuffs."

He said it so matter-of-factly. Seto's fingers tingled as they traced over the plastic protection suctioned tight on the black screen. He'd—he'd always wanted one, but had no desires of getting his hopes up for a dream so out of reach.

Climbing up to his feet, Seto cast an impossible bright glare at the little boy across the fence. A smile so small tugged the corners of his lips and then he was stepping to the fence and pressing his palm where Yugi's fingers easily squeezed through.

"Thank you, Yugi," he said soft as the morning sun.

Yugi gave a toothy grin and bobbed his head. "You're welcome. . . so, are we friends now?"

Seto smirked. "We're getting there."

Yugi's flashy smile said that was good enough for him.

For a full two years, Yugi returned to his place at the edge of the fence after school and on early morning weekends. Eventually the time behind the fence would be time he could spend with them at the city park, at the ice cream parlor and sometimes during sleepovers when the orphanage gave written permission for the boys to leave the establishment.

The boys learned what was it like to be welcomed into a warm, loving family, even one as dysfunctional and terrifying as Yugi's. Days ended with a promise to see the other the following day. It was a sealed deal, a concrete vow to always be there to see the other the next day.

Yugi returned to the fix with his arms full of new books from the library and a wide grin, searching up and down the play yard for his play buddies. For a long time, he waited while his family waited across the street. The boys never showed.

Yugi learned the next day that he'd never see them again. Not ever. It was an orphanage after all. Guess it was only a matter of time before someone saw how amazing they were like Yugi . . . it didn't stop the bitter tear in his heart from churning his stomach or the sensation of abandonment and betrayal. They promised they'd be there the next day. . .