Oooh, shiny. XD It's a little belated I know, but it wasn't until like, the thirteenth, when I realised that I needed a Valentines Day fic. I was like OH SHIT O.O; So... coming up with a plot, and writing it in two days aint bad I guess. Hehehehehe

And the reason I put this one in here, as opposed to Shards, was because this one is in the same universe thingy... If you didn't guess already o.o;

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING I SAY!

"Hey Ryou."

The whitenette looked up from his journal, and smiled. Bakura used his teeth to pull off his left glove, and then his right. He removed his hat, and placed the sodden items on the card table the white-haired pair to dine on. Bakura's teeth chattered as he yanked off his worn black coat, shaking his hair. The white-haired man walked across the apartment, to where Ryou was curled up on the battered, threadbare couch in front of the fire. The thick book was open on his lap, and he was writing furiously.

"Have a good day?" Bakura set his backpack, heavy with college textbooks, on the floor. Ryou nodded and smiled, looking back down at his book. Bakura sighed, and say down on the sofa, leaning against the torn upholstery. "Ugh… College was hell. Work was even worse. All Marik can talk about his big Valentines day surprise for Malik… It's so cheesy, but it's cute to see them happy."

'Have you ever celebrated Valentines day?' Ryou wrote on a scrap of paper. Bakura sighed, and shook his head. He snaked an arm around Ryou's shoulders, and the teenager obediently leaned his head into the mans' shoulder.

"Nah… I've… Well, it's not like I wouldn't mind it… But I've never really had a girlfriend or boyfriend, per say. I mean, I've slept with a lot of people, especially those college sluts… I had a few around before you came to stay." He fell silent at the look of revulsion on the teenager's face. "Okay, sorry. But…" Bakura sighed. "I'm not a big fan of Valentines day anyways. All the cards and chocolate and sappy fluff…" Ryou sighed, a dreamy look on his face. "What. You like that shit?" The teenager nodded, smiling faintly. "Weirdo." Bakura tightened his arms around Ryou's shoulder's, feeling the thin, slender bones beneath the worn sweat shirt. He nuzzled Ryou's head tenderly, enjoying the vague aroma of strawberries that washed over him. "Mmmm… Your hair smells nice."

'Sap.' Ryou scrawled quickly on the scrap paper. Bakura growled, teasingly poking him in the side.

"Not." He muttered, resting his chin on Ryou's head. The teenagers' laugh was silent, but Bakura could feel his slim chest rise and fall as he giggled. "Hey… We should have a shower." The yami wrinkled his nose. "It's been almost a week." Ryou nodded, wrinkling his nose. Hot water was a luxury, not a necessity in this household, barely enough for one shower a week and for the dishes, so Bakura and Ryou had to share the wash. "Okay." Bakura sighed as he stood up. Ryou closed the thick book, and set it down tenderly on the couch cushion. It was Bakura's idea for Ryou to start writing down all of his memoirs. Not only was Bakura interested in the story of Ryou's life, but he was sure that it would be worth a lot of money. Sure, there were countless homeless people littering the streets, especially in the summer and spring. According to the statistics, the homeless population lowered about twenty to forty percent in the winter. And instead of helping them, offering clothes, food, and shelter, the government simply let it happen. There were plenty of starving, ill people living on the streets. A few dying was no skin off their nose.

Ryou would have died, Bakura was sure, if he had never taken Ryou home with him. He still remembered how sick Ryou was at Christmastime, constantly weak and tired. It was mid-January before he could even leave the house. Bakura accepted the bony hand that was extended to him, staring into wide chocolate eyes.

Of course, it didn't help that Bakura was starting to have… Thoughts about the young teenager. He couldn't help it! He was totally amazed by his beauty and sweet kindness. The man had been hiding his desires from Ryou, however, knowing how it was deemed 'wrong.' Not only was homosexuality strongly looked down on in his society, but with Ryou being fifteen, and Bakura approaching twenty-two… To say there was an age difference would be putting it mildly.

Bakura blinked as slender, bony fingers touched the side of his face. The man looked down to stare at Ryou, who cocked his head to one side in confusion.

"I'm okay." Bakura whispered gently. He drew Ryou into a momentary embrace, softly kissing the top of his fluffy white head. "Never mind me."

"Hey, Ryou, move over, I need to get my hair…" The whitenette stepped aside obediently, shivering slightly as he left the comforting stream of hot water. "Thanks." Bakura turned around, ducking his head under the water and letting it soak his wild mane of silver tangles. "Mmm, that feels better." He sighed, running his hands through the wet hair. And it did.

For about three seconds.

Bakura jumped, and with a shout, he leaped out of the shower as fast as he would, swearing. Ryou's eyes were wide, and it wasn't until he stepped under the shower that he realized what the man was yelling about. Ryou gasped, pressing himself against the grimy wall of the shower, as far away from the stream of icy water as he could.

"W-We were only in there for fifteen minutes..." Bakura took another step back, and his back hit the warped wooden door of the apartment. Ryou watched, his vision hampered slightly by the stream of water. He could see Bakura however, turn around and punch the door angrily. The man couldn't feel the pain, however. He just took a step back, and slumped his shoulders uselessly.

I failed. Bakura felt sick. What was it that I promised him? That I was going to feed him lots and lots... And I haven't. Even that stupid Christmas hamper had to be stretched to the max. Look at him. He's still as skinny as a rake. Okay, so he's not as bad as he used to be, but he still looks underfed. And he goes hungry. He does and I know it. And look at us. We can't even take a fucking shower. The hot water must be leaking somewhere... But I can't get into the walls and look at it, and we can't afford a plumber. I can't do this. I can't. But I can't give up... Ryou... I can't ever let him go back into those streets. But I don't know how long I can keep feeding and clothing the both of us.

The man jumped when he felt a slim hand resting on his shoulder. Bakura turned around to find Ryou standing opposite him, his eyes wide and confused. The male felt his heart wrench when he saw Ryou, and closed his eyes. I can't give up on him... Even if I can't look after myself.

"I'm okay." Bakura whispered. He leaned forward, and shut off the shower water. Ryou simply stared at Bakura, his bony form shivering. "Here…" Bakura draped the only bathrobe around the teenagers' shoulders, before donning a towel. "Sorry." He apologized. "This… This all just gets me down, you know?" Ryou nodded in slight understanding. "I promised you a better life, and this is what I give you. A shitty shoebox of an apartment without even any hot water…" Ryou shook his head, tightening the thin bathrobe around himself. "Yes, Ryou!" Bakura started yelling. "Look at yourself! I-I can't even feed you…" His shoulders slumped, and he held his hands over his face. "Things were always a struggle, and I was hanging onto this place by a thread. And then you come along, and everything doubles…" Bakura let out a long sigh, and lifted his head slightly. His heart sank when he saw Ryou, who was near tears. "O-Oh… Ryou, that sounded wrong…"

'Should I leave?' Ryou wrote the words in the steam of the bathroom mirror. Bakura's mouth fell open, and panic rose in his throat.

"No!" He yelped. "No! No… Never, Ryou, never ever." The whitenette gasped as Bakura wrapped his arms around Ryou in a tight, loving embrace. "I don't want you to leave, you idiot, not at all!" He buried his nose in Ryou's hair, which smelled strongly of strawberries once again. The whitenette used a more expensive brand of shampoo on his hair, and although money was tight, Bakura was happy to pay a couple more dollars on shampoo so Ryou's hair could be so soft, and sweet-smelling. It was the aroma he fell asleep to at night. "I was just saying. Ryou… I care about you. A lot. If I didn't, I would have left you to die, wouldn't I?" He gently lifted his head, staring into those wide brown chocolate eyes. "There's thousands of homeless people on the streets, Ryou. And nobody cares. But I did, I always did. You know that I'd been watching you for weeks, and part of me always wanted to take you home with me…" He nuzzled Ryou's head. The whitenette smiled beneath him, his eyes closed. "I took you into my home because I care about you, Ryou. Because it was breaking my heart to see you cold and starving and alone… I'm trying my hardest, Ryou. I-I really am."

Ryou bit his lip as he lifted his head, staring into Bakura's wine-coloured eyes. He took a step back, and lifted his hand. Bakura stared as Ryou started to write on the mirror, keeping his writing as small as possible (The mirror was cracked, and not all that big). 'I know you are. And you're doing great.' Bakura broke into a small smile, wrapping his arms around Ryou's shoulders.

"Thanks, Ryou." He whispered somewhat thickly. "Thank you, Ryou. You don't know how special you are to me." Ryou sighed, and smiled weakly. Bakura frowned, noticing how badly Ryou was shivering. "Shit. We better get in front of the heater."

"Ugh." Bakura sighed as he rolled over. The blankets were pulled up to his shoulders, but he was still cold. The man looked over at Ryou, who's eyes were surprisingly open. "Ryou?" The teenager blinked, and turned his head to face the older whitenette. "You awake?" He nodded, his brown eyes bleary and unfocused. "Cold?" Ryou nodded again, his teeth chattering. "Ohh… I'm sorry." Bakura pulled the blankets up higher around the pair of them, cuddling Ryou close. "Better?" Ryou inclined his head slightly in a nod, nuzzling Bakura's collarbone. "Mmm…" Bakura sighed, curling his legs around Ryou.

"You know… I'm really happy about you." Bakura sighed. "I can't ever say that enough, it feels like. Life was like… A struggle to live. Before I got the part-time job at the factory, I was really, really poor." The man nuzzled Ryou's hair. "I lived in a place even worse than this one. And my things…" Bakura let out a long breath, that was shaking. "When I was little, my family was well-off. I went to a good school and all that, and we had some really nice stuff. When they died, I had to sell a lot of it to get by… furniture, mostly, and some of Mum's jewelry… I sold it to pawn shops, mainly. I felt like shit, but I had to if I wanted to keep a roof over my head. There was… There was this one thing I swore I was never gonna sell. My Mum… She had this nice jewelry box. It was ivory, inlaid with gold, really really pretty. It had red velvet lining, and this little ballerina figure in a tutu, and it played Greensleeves…" Bakura smiled in remembrance. "I tried so hard not to sell it, I really did." The man's smile fell. "But… One day, I came home with an eviction notice pinned to my door. I had nothing else to sell, and my pay wasn't going to cover it…" Ryou lifted his head, staring into wine coloured eyes that were glistening with tears.

"That was almost five years ago." Bakura murmured gently. "I… I tried saving up enough money to buy it back, but it was too much… I couldn't buy it back… It was gone a few months later, anyway." The man stared past Ryou and out the window. "I feel so guilty… It's like I've completely forgotten about them. I have lots of pictures on the mantelpiece, but that's not the same…" Bakura actually sniffed, holding back tears. "Dad was always so proud of our line… He used to boast about being able to trace it back to the Dark Ages. It's so sad… I'm the very last one in a very long line, and look at what I am. Look at what I've become. Dad would be so angry at me, I'm sure."

Ryou placed a hand on the side of Bakura's face, raising his head slightly to look at the white-haired man. Ryou shook his head gently, biting on his lower lip.

"Ryou… I am. I'm a failure. Look at me. I can't provide for either of us…" Ryou shook his head again, and propped himself up on his elbows. He reached across the bed, and grabbed the chunky notepad, and a pen.

'Bakura… You're in college. You're studying to become a psychologist. You're going to get a good job and earn lots of money for us.' Bakura smiled gently.

"Yeah… I guess you're right." He sighed. "And you're working hard, too. I keep reading that book you're writing in, and it makes me cry. When it's done, we're gonna type it up, and Malik swears he's gonna give it to his boss." (Malik was a secretary in a publishing company.) "People have to know. They don't wanna look at what's staring in the face."

'I can't blame them.' Ryou wrote. 'What can they do to help?' Bakura sighed, and nodded.

"Yeah, I guess. It just pisses me off. I hate this place we live in. I can't wait until we can pull ourselves out." Ryou smiled, and pushed the pad and pen away. He buried his head in Bakura's shoulder, closing his eyes. "Night Ryou." Bakura sighed, wrapping his arms around the teenager. Both of the whitenette's relaxed into the mattress, sleeping on a bed that made them feel as though they were suspended in a cradle over the city.

Ryou shivered, drawing the thin, ragged coat tighter around his skinny frame. It wasn't an especially cold day, per say, but the freezing, whistling wind chilled Ryou to the bone. It wasn't often that the whitenette plucked up enough courage to go outside, but today, he had to.

The whitenette slid a hand into the pocket of the jacket, touching the few crumpled notes and cold, tarnished coins inside. It was mid-afternoon, but Ryou had spent the morning busking at one of the plazas, trying to earn as much money as he could. It was a busy day, with sweethearts buying each other gifts, and everyone seemed to be in a happier mood. Ryou hid a small smile. Thirty-two dollars and fifteen cents in three hours was one of the best wages he'd ever made.

Ryou blinked, and peered through the open door and into the junk store. It was mainly a place of cracked china and dull, unpolished brass. The whitenette shrugged, and walked into the store. It was a tiny, stuffy place, filled with the musty smell of old books. The teenager rubbed at his nose, suppressing a sneeze. He felt the eyes of the woman on him, and bit his lip hard. His chocolate brown eyes scanned the few shelves of items, and his heart dared to lift a little. He had been searching the junk shops around town for well over an hour, and had entered more than a dozen shops.

There it was.

Ryou froze, staring at the white enamel box, the edges painted gold. Ryou could tell it was not real ivory and gold -If it was, then it wouldn't be in a shop like this- but it looked almost just like the real thing. The teenager lifted the lid with his slim bony fingers, his breath hitching at the sight of the faded red velvet. He groped around the back of the tiny box, until he found the key. After a few short twists, the sweet, almost eerie sound of 'Greensleeves' filled his ears, and the tiny ballerina started turning.

Ryou's smile was as wide as the sky.

"There you are!" Bakura stood up as soon as Ryou entered the tiny apartment. The teenager froze, clutching the gift-wrapped package closed to his chest. "Where the fuck were you, Ryou?" If he had a voice, the whitenette would have squeaked as Bakura strode across the studio, grabbing Ryou's shoulders. "Why didn't you leave a note or anything!" He was shaken roughly, feeling as though his brain was beating against his skull. Bakura released his hold on the boy, who stepped back, shaking his head. He clutched the package closer to himself, his eyes closed. "I was worried sick." Bakura's voice broke, and he slumped his shoulders. "I-I'm so sorry…"

Ryou blinked as he felt Bakura's hand on the side of his face. He stared up into those crimson eyes, his chin trembling. Bakura let out a long, long sighed, closing his eyes for a long moment.

"What have you got there?" Bakura asked softly, trailing his hand down to the box. It was wrapped in red paper, and tied with a gold ribbon. A tiny red-and-gold card was pinned to the front. Ryou smiled gently, and released one of his hands, taking Bakura's wrist. The man was confused, but obeyed as he was led across the room, and sat down on the couch.

"What is it?" Bakura repeated, still confused. Ryou licked his lips nervously, and held out the box in his slim, bony fingers. "Oh Christ…" Bakura took the box, and stared at the tiny card. He folded it open, reading the short message inside. "To my Valentine… Oh, Ryou." Bakura gasped, his heart swelling almost painfully. Ryou was smiling widely, soundlessly encouraging the yami to open it. Bakura's fingers shook as he tore open the red paper, and lifted the object out of the box.

"Oh God." Bakura froze, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. "Oh God…" Tears swam in Bakura's eyes as he held the music box in his hands. "Oh God…" He repeated again, his breath shaking in his throat. Ryou could only watch, but he couldn't stop the broad smile across his face. It faded, however, when Bakura burst into tears.

Ryou's eyes widened, and the box slid from Ryou's fingers. The whitenette gasped, and caught the small trinket, setting it down gently on the coffee table. He placed a hand on the side of Bakura's face, staring into his face as he cried. The man buried his head into Ryou's shoulders, his hands shaking.

"Th-Thank you…" He mumbled a long time later as he lifted his head a little. "T-Thank you… So much Ryou." Bakura stared into wide brown eyes, which were to expressive and warm and loving…

He kissed him.

Bakura couldn't help it. He leaned his head in, just a little, and closed the gap between their lips. Ryou's eyes widened, and every part of his body went rigid as Bakura rested his lips on the teens', closing his eyes. Ryou stared at the closed eyelids, red and swollen from crying. With a low sigh, the teenager's eyes lowered shut in return, and he started to kiss Bakura back. The man didn't dare to deepen the kiss any more, for fear Ryou would pull away, so Bakura relaxed, trailing his hands down to Ryou's hips.

"I'm sorry!" Bakura gasped as he pulled away. His was staring at Ryou, who's eyes were lowered slightly, frozen in shock. "Ryou…" The teenager eventually lifted his head, staring into wine-coloured orbs.

It just felt so right to kiss Bakura. Ryou didn't even have to think about it, as he locked lips with the man once again. Bakura's eyes bugged out of his head as Ryou kissed him chastely, before pulling away a few moments later, his cheeks stained crimson.

"Ryou." Bakura gasped, holding a hand over his mouth. "Y-You… You…" Bakura was babbling, and he knew it, but he didn't know what to do. "You… feel that way?" Ryou didn't even have to hesitate, and he nodded his head quickly daring to smile. "Me?" Ryou nodded again, the smile still on his face. "Oh… Shit." Bakura muttered. "But…" The man just didn't understand it. He sighed, and looked down at Ryou, who was staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Bakura pressed his lips together, and wrapped his arms around Ryou's shoulders, gently coaxing the younger one to lean into his chest. Ryou obeyed, staring out from his vantage point at the old music box.

"Thank you." Bakura whispered, clinging tightly to the teenager. "Thank you, Ryou." He whispered again, clutching Ryou as tightly to his shaking frame as he could. Ryou relaxed into the embrace, his eyes fluttering shut just a little. He felt so warm, and safe, in Bakura's arms…

The man still couldn't believe what Ryou had done for him. He stared at the little music box in pure shock, his heart aching. Ryou had earned enough money to buy him that music box, and almost exact replica of his old family heirloom. Save his parents, no one had ever done something so nice for him before. Strange feelings rose in Bakura's chest, and he almost felt as though he wouldn't cope.

"You're the closest I've got to family, Ryou." Bakura whispered as he gently lay down on the couch. Ryou was pulled down with him, and brought onto his torso. The teenager snuggled into Bakura's chest, burying his nose in the man's collarbone. "I… I care about you so bloody much." Bakura felt fresg tears form in his eyes, to his eternal shame. "I… I can't put these dealings into any words. At first, it was just me caring about you lots and lots, but when you started putting on a bit of weight, and stayed clean, I saw how pretty you were. And then when you got a little stronger, and showed me how kind and generous you are…" Bakura trailed off, combing his fingers through long dark hair. "I…" The man sighed. "Happy Valentines day, Ryou." The whitenette teenager smiled, and lifted his head, just a little. Bakura stared into his heavenly face, and watched those perfect pink lips mouth three simple words. There was no sound, but Bakura didn't need it He knew what Ryou was saying.

'Happy Valentines Day.'

Ugh. Fluff! -drownsinfluff-

I'm horribly tired... I'm going to bed...

R&R!