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Heavy breathing filled the room. Hands wandered over cheeks and shoulders and fingers trailed down backs. Each touch was grounding in how mundane it was, how completely normal. Anzu's weight in Yami's lap was his anchor as they kissed, keeping him from writing this whole experience off as some daydream.
He could barely feel Yugi, the owner of this body he currently possessed, giving the Puzzle's spirit as much privacy as could be afforded. It was courteous, but Yami couldn't help feeling a bit lost without that familiar weight of Yugi's thoughts ensnared with his own. The physical sensations were the only thing keeping him tethered now.
Anzu kissed him like he was something delicate, all soft and gentle, guiding his hands exactly where she wanted them. Each sound she made was his reward for following her lead; each quiet sigh and muffled moan music to his ears. When she pulled back to take in his burning face, she smiled like he was porcelain that her very lips could shatter.
There was a gentle care to how she regarded him. He'd seen that same look directed at Yugi too many times to count, but very rarely had the time to spare to see it directed at him. But there was something about it that was different. Some certainty settled across her features, as though she had to accept a harsh truth whenever she looked at him. Meanwhile, with Yugi, it was all fierce protectiveness, her eyes burning with the desire to keep him safe.
He ached at the difference. Too many emotions to count rushed through his head as he drank her in. He was glad, not to still be conflated with Yugi. They were separate entities, each possessing their own strengths and weaknesses. It would only hold both back to be compared to the other. And yet, Yami couldn't help but wish that Anzu would show him that same protective spark. That she'd look at him like something precious she wanted to keep safe, rather than an accident waiting to happen.
In a rush, he bent down, biting firmly into the side of her neck. He wanted to leave a mark, to tell anyone who saw it that she was his just as much as she was Yugi's. Anzu groaned above him, rolling her hips over his lap. He bit down harder.
Yugi got all the recognition as Anzu's boyfriend. Few outside of their friend group knew that Yami existed, so it was only a given, but he couldn't help the bitter feelings that bubbled up when he saw Yugi get all the attention. Jealousy, a voice whispered in his head. He was jealous. That realization startled him, to the point where he released Anzu's neck, leaning away to stare with wide eyes.
He'd left a mark alright - deep imprints of his teeth had been made into the flesh of her neck, the skin bright red with blood under the surface. In a couple spots, it was so dark it almost appeared to be leaking out, trailing lazily down each and every divot. He mindlessly wiped the mark with his thumb.
"What's wrong?" Anzu asked. Her face had fallen, that bone-deep caring echoed across each and every one of her features. He didn't look at her for very long, still engrossed with the too-deep mark he'd left in her skin. It took her hands finding their way to his cheeks and pulling his head up for them to lock eyes for more than a moment. "Tell me?"
"I..." What was wrong? All of a sudden there, he just... got jealous- wanted to bite her. Without even thinking, he just did it. She was bleeding because of him. With how red and raised it was becoming, it had to hurt. "I don't know," he whispered. Where did these strong, tugging feelings come from? Why did they spur him to do that?
Anzu didn't say anything. Her hands moved, shifting to his scalp as her fingers ran through his hair. Sensing his unease, Yugi's feelings swept back into his mind, questioning, worried. A comfortable, welcome weight. A knot in Yami's chest that he hadn't realized was there slowly unclenched under their combined tenderness.
"I'm... jealous," he admitted. He thought back to all the dates Yugi and Anzu had gone on, all very much in public, the two chatting like the world around them could disappear and they wouldn't even notice. He remembered that burning gaze she'd affix Yugi with, that unyielding protectiveness. "Because you... You treat me differently. Than Yugi."
Anzu blinked, parsing his words, while he felt Yugi's emotions sink. Guilt was the main one that came across. That, and an apology. Yugi didn't know he felt that way. Of course not, because Yami had never said. While Yugi and Anzu got to talk around town, her dates with Yami usually consisted of hanging out in Yugi's bedroom, like right now. Cupping his cheeks again, Anzu gave Yami another kiss. He and Yugi were both dumbfounded at that.
"That's because you're not Yugi," she calmly reminded him. "You're Yami. I know I probably act more friendly with Yugi than with you, and I'm sorry. I've known him for so long that it's just second nature for me. But I do like you. And I want to get to know who Yami is just as much as I've gotten to know who Yugi is."
"I- I know," Yami replied, voice shaking. "But I can see through his eyes sometimes, and the way you look at him..." he trailed off wistfully. "I just wish you'd look at me like that." Anzu's eyes softened. She shifted until her arms were around Yami's neck, and she pulled him into a hug. Blinking back his sudden tears, he wrapped his arms around her back and let himself be held.
There was nothing else to be done. Anzu was right; he wasn't Yugi. The last thing Yami wanted was to take Yugi's place. But it still hurt, not having someone to look at him the way Anzu looked at Yugi. Yugi and Anzu knew all too well. Anzu, holding him safely and snugly in her arms, and Yugi, radiating comfort and sympathy and understanding like a space heater.
He hated that he made them feel bad, that he made them prioritize him. He was always playing catch up. Where Anzu and Yugi could exchange a look and communicate perfectly, he was always a beat behind. Just a little too slow. A part of him wondered if Anzu was just humoring him, merely accommodating him because he and her real boyfriend shared a body. Yugi's emotions flashed like a bright alarm through his mind, insisting that wasn't true, but he couldn't get the idea out of his head.
"Yami," Anzu breathed against his head. "You're kind." He startled. "You're always looking out for others. Even when someone's wronged you, you still have it in your heart to forgive them if they reflect on their actions." What was she saying? "You're bold and fearless when your friends are in danger. There's a thousand things I like about you that I can name. Things that you have that Yugi doesn't."
"What...? But... I-"
"You put everyone before yourself, even to your own detriment. You never give up or back down from a challenge. There's this little smirk you get when you're winning a game that's adorable." Yami flushed. He could feel Yugi's mirth swirling around his head. "The way you look after the shop when Yugi's grandpa can't is really sweet. I'd say you're getting a lot better at cashiering."
"...Anyone could do those things, Anzu," he argued. "I'm not special because of all that." Anzu laughed, pulling her face from where it rested against his hair. There, on her neck, his bite mark was settling into the distinct coloration of a bruise. Yami winced. See? Physical proof of how inconsequential all those little details were. It didn't matter what else he did. If he was capable of this, any good that came of his actions was null and void.
"Exactly. You're not special because of all of that," Anzu, surprisingly, agreed with him. She drew him in for a kiss, longer than the last one. Slow and patient. She was smiling when it ended. "You're special because you're Yami. I like you for who you are, not just what you've done. It doesn't matter that you're not Yugi, because you're something even better - yourself."
Tears ran down his cheeks with sudden ferocity. Put like that, it all became so much clearer, didn't it? He was special, because he, as an individual, had inherent worth. What a concept. All this time he'd been brooding over not being enough like Yugi for Anzu, for the both of them, but he'd had it wrong the whole time. All he needed to be was himself. That's all. He let out a wet laugh, invisible weight lifted.
He was enough.