Written for the YGO kink meme on tumblr. The prompt was, "Season 0 puzzleshipping". Well, that's pretty vague. I'm not sure if they wanted fluff or something, but Season 0/early manga Dark Yuugi is fairly unstable, so I'm guessing that's a no. If not, I so much apologize for twisting it into the filth I usually write.

"If our love is only a will to possess, it is not love."

- Thich Nhat Hahn

He's on his knees in front of the mirror again, he registers distantly. The presence in his mind stirs, pulsing with excitement and other feelings Yuugi can't quite grasp. He dimly acknowledges the pattern; the compulsion to come to the mirror, their mirror, only occurs after his body is returned to him, after some other person (he can't quite bring himself to think victim, not yet) has fallen prey to some dark madness.

They deserved it.

Yuugi starts, his eyes flashing up to meet his-no, the other's, before dropping just as quickly to the floor.

There is a very real fear, he briefly ponders, in the human mind, of seeing one's own features twisted at another's will, and he is reminded of this at the sight of the other boy's face.

It's your move.

Dragged from his thoughts, he is reminded of why he is here, and can't help but feel the familiar despair and dread. Yuugi inhales shakily, the cool air drying his mouth. He wets his lips nervously.

"W-We're not playing a game."

He winces at the stutter, a stress-induced habit he has tried - unsuccessfully - to break in the past. Summoning his courage, he drags his eyes up to the mirror again, to the other, to the reflection that is his but not-his. He swallows as he meets the eyes, burning with intensity never found on his face, wonders that his features could twist into such an expression. The boy in the mirror's gaze is unrelenting.

You know what I mean.

Yuugi shivers at the dark tone. An amused smile breaks across the other's face, and Yuugi averts his gaze.

"What-" he clears his throat, mindful of his grandfather's room down the hall, and continues in a whisper. "What do you want?"

The boy's grin stretches even further.

I am you, and you are me.

"No." he whispers hollowly. "No…That's not an answer, and that's...that's not true. I keep losing time, and it's you, isn't-"

Relax.

"Stop telling me what to do!" he cries in as hushed of a voice as possible. Yuugi makes to stand, but realizes with horror he cannot move. "No...Not again..."

Yuugi, you have to relax.

"Stop it, no, please, stop, oh god..." he pleads, his voice palpable with the panic at finding his limbs unresponsive." Let me go..."

If you do not relax, I will be forced to make you comply.

"Please...no...!" he whispers. "Not again..."

You leave me no choice, Yuugi.

Yuugi chokes out a sob as his hands begin to move of their own accord, pulling off his shirt with ease and trailing across his chest with the lightest of touches. They scratch lightly over sensitive skin. His stomach muscles twitch involuntarily at the cold fingers.

You are beautiful.

"Stop..." Yuugi manages, but it comes out as more of a pant. His unresponsive hands find the zipper to his jeans and tug it down slowly. He looks to the reflection; they are in sync (he vaguely registers how strange it is that he should expect to find anything different; though his actions are not his own it is, after all, a mirror). The eyes that watch him hungrily, studying his face. He catches Yuugi's glance and his face lights in delight to see the other flushed.

You are mine.

"Stop...saying..." Yuugi never finishes his sentence, because it is at that moment his hands find his growing arousal and stroke.

"No...Please...I...ngh-! Don't..."

I love the noises you make.

The purr in his mind is just so damn affectionate, like one doting on a child not to be taken seriously. Yuugi despairs at the analogy his mind provides, and weakly renews his protests.

"Please...other me...I don't...ah-!...want..."

Don't tell me you don't want this, don't want me.

The voice turns dark, and Yuugi's hands (the ones the other stole) squeeze. He cries out, biting his lip in a vain attempt to muffle the outburst.

Why do you resist? The voice croons. Relax. Let me help you relax.

"Please...other me..." He can feel the tears streaming, now, despite the aching arousal. Despite the hands brushing, touching, holding. "I don't want this..."

Pure fury pours through the link, then, at his words, a tangled mess of you want this I want this you want this say it say it SAY IT - Yuugi flinches, before the rage cuts off abruptly. He doubts it is gone, merely hidden from him.

Oh, but I want you, the voice hisses dangerously.

"Other me..."

Yes?

"Please..."

Only because you beg.

The hands, no, his hands begin to speed up. Yuugi's eyes widen.

"No...That's not...hng- What I meant-!..."

So tense. The voice soothes. Relax.

His eyes sting painfully, burning with hot shame, embarrassment at the absolutely filthy tone the voice takes on. Dirty, hot, unclean. He'll never be clean, never be free.

Don't think such things, my partner, the voice mocks, You don't need freedom. You have me.

His lips twitch to object again, but his words end up as more of a misshapen moan than anything else, a blunder that is only made clearer by the chuckle inside his mind.

"O-Other me..." He groans.

Partner.

Finish.

He climaxes at the order (because, really, he thinks distantly, there is no other way to describe the other's commands, the other's control on his body, his inability to resist) shuddering, a sob tearing from his throat. The invisible hold on his body drops. He slumps to his knees.

He can't say for sure how much time has passed before he dares to look in the mirror. His reflection is his own, flushed and weary. Behind him stands the outline of the other boy.

Yuugi spins quickly, but finds no one. He faces the mirror again. The boy smiles comfortingly, his hand on Yuugi's shoulder. Surprisingly, he can feel his touch; it's meant to be a comforting gesture, but it's tight, the disembodied fingers digging into his shoulders. Gripping. Controlling. He meets the eyes of the other.

You will sleep now. The boy tells him, solemnly, leaving no room for argument. Yuugi looks at himself, flushed, disoriented and glazed, and surrenders, nodding slowly.

A grin breaks across the boy's face. I love you, he sings, his thumb brushing across Yuugi's cheek affectionately.

The teen shivers and stands shakily, crawling into bed, pulling the covers over his curled body. He briefly entertains the thought of remaining awake in rebellion, but exhaustion quickly wins; besides, he's wary of what the other him would do to...relax him further should he remain awake.

Sleep now.

"Why do you do this to me?" The whispered question spills, before he can stop it, to the empty room. Silence stretches for a while, and Yuugi has all but given up hope when the disembodied voice replies.

Because you're mine. The shadow sounds puzzled, even affronted, as if Yuugi's question is ridiculous.

Yuugi opens his mouth, but closes it with a slight sigh, thinking better of responding. Reasoning will do nothing; besides, he is drowsy, lulled with a post-coital high.

Yuugi?

He grunts; a small, non-committal noise.

Do you love me?

He stiffens.

I do so many things for you, Yuugi. The voice is dark. I protect you, and I fight for you, and I help you relax…

"I never asked you to do any of those things." Yuugi replies quietly.

Do you love me?

Yuugi stares at the wall, before closing his eyes. "Please...let me sleep."

...Very well.

He's not sure how many hours have passed when he again wakes, startled, at a hand on his face, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. The touch persists, stroking his cheek before tracing his lips. Yuugi shivers.

Yuugi is awake?

"No...No, I'm not!..." He protests.

Yuugi needs to relax? If the voice sounded pleased earlier, it was positively gleeful now.

"No-wait! Stop!" He cries hoarsely.

Yuugi needs sleep. Yuugi must relax.

He chokes as the hands begin to travel.