A/N: Hi guys! This chapter is super fluffy, because it is in Ryou's POV, and that's just how he thinks.

Interesting tidbit: I realized as I wrote this that there were a lot of adjectives and adverbs. I decided to use this as a writing technique. I figured that since Ryou is such a romantic, he would think this way, and Bakura's POV might be much more matter-of-fact. Ryou is always describing things as "beautiful" or "graceful" or saying Bakura does things "softly" or "delicately." He's such a romantic. This is my clever way to hide my bad writing.

Disclaimer: If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh! then Tea would be long dead and no one would miss her because she was a whore anyway. Oh, and the Pharaoh and I would be happily dating, Marik(Hikari) would be my best friend, and Bakura and Marik(Hikari) would already have kissed and admitted their unconditional love for each other on the show. Too bad I don't own it then, huh.

Chapter One: Unrequited

Night was the only time Ryou ever had the opportunity to see Bakura this way. The former yami was laying on his side, one arm bent out behind him and the other bent up in front of him at a 90-ish degree angle, yet he somehow still managed to look graceful. His face was turned slightly upward, and the moonlight streaming in through the open window made his dove-white skin glow softly.

The light was just strong enough to throw the faint shadows of his long eyelashes against his cheekbones. He looked like something out of a mattress commercial. His long white hair stood out brightly against the dark blue sheets, his lips turned down in a slight frown.

He looked so vulnerable.

He looked so beautiful.

There were three aspects of Bakura's sleeping form that Ryou couldn't seem to take his eyes off of.

One was Bakura's wrists. Although it was strange, they were so beautiful. The insides of his wrists were snow-white and looked incredibly smooth. Ryou wanted to reach out and stroke them.

Another was his neck and collarbone. Bakura's neck was so slender and pale and soft looking. The sleeping boy looked as though he had been grown out of pure ivory.

For Ryou, tracing his eyes along the gracefully defined lines, curves, and hollows of the older boy's neck and collar bone made him want to trace more than his eyes along them; his fingers, his lips… (Soopah smexy mental image…!)

Which brought him to the third thing, Bakura's lips. They looked so soft and cool. They also had a just-bitten look that made Ryou want desperately to reach out and trace over them with gossamer light fingers.

So fragile.

Even the way Bakura was laying, face turned upwards and arms resting out of the way, it was as if he was begging Ryou to lean in until their lips met in a soft kiss, and gently entwine his fingers in that long, white hair… (Oh! The smexiness!)

Ryou was woken from his reverie as Bakura let out a small sigh in his sleep and shifted slightly, unwittingly moving towards Ryou and turning his face so that he was facing Ryou almost directly.

Ryou began to feel uncomfortable, like he shouldn't be so close, like Bakura was going to wake up any minute and-!

Ryou practically stopped thinking. His heart skipped at least fourteen beats.

Bakura had opened his just-bitten lips and let out another sigh, but this time, the soft breath of air that escaped his lips washed directly into Ryou's face.

It was indescribable.

Bakura smelled like melting snow and darkness and icy rivers and lilacs.

It was cool and delicate, and just slightly sweet.

And yet it was so lustful.

Ryou's stomach flipped and a tugging sensation came into the back of his throat.

All of the things that he had just been yearning to do, all of the things he had just been imagining, Ryou now felt incredibly inclined to try.

Get a grip. He told himself sternly. If you do this he'll just leave.

Still, he argued with himself, if I just try one of the things I wanted to do he wouldn't wake up.

He slowly reached out a trembling, pale hand and softly trailed the tips of two slender fingers along the silken, dove-white skin of Bakura's wrist.

Bakura let out a small moan.

Is he moaning? It can't be from my touch, can it?

Ryou discounted the thought almost immediately. Even so, he did it again experimentally, trailing his fingers farther down the other boy's wrist this time.

A deeper moan left Bakura's lips.

Ryou pulled back, startled. He tried it again.

Bakura moaned for a third time, and this time it sounded so longing that Ryou wanted to cry.

Why would the gods do this to me? How could they? Ryou clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists. He couldn't believe that the gods would dare to let him get this happy for a moment, because he knew that they would soon snatch it away.

He was right.

A few seconds later Bakura opened his mouth again, let out a small, shaky breath and whispered, "Marik…."

A tear slid down Ryou's cheek.

Bakura was dreaming about someone else.

He had said Marik's name so longingly that it sounded as though Bakura was actually in love with Marik.

Ryou understood. Bakura had been dreaming about Marik, so he had probably imagined that Ryou's touch had been Marik's tanned fingers at his wrist, and he had moaned so wantonly at what he thought had been Marik's affection.

Ryou began to edge away from Bakura. He had been sitting on the edge of the older boy's bed, and so Ryou got up carefully so as not to wake him and crept out the door and down the hall to his room.

Ryou cried himself to sleep that night.

A/N: Reviews would make this girl very smiley! Have a heart!

P.S. I actually recently dropped Tendershipping for Theifshipping, (WAY more equal) because I think that Bakura needs someone to keep him in line, which is why I wrote this. I can easily see onesided Tendershipping on Ryou's part, but he should give Deathshipping a try! (Don't hate me!)