Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Chance Meetings ❯ Preferably Forever - YMxYB ( Chapter 1 )

4. Hurts so good

 

Marik had always thought love at first sight was a joke, after all, how could anyone know what `love' was if it was the first time they were experiencing it?

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Hey.”

 

“…Hey.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

He had reasoned through his philosophy a number of times. If love existed, when the hell would it find him? Was he supposed to `just know' or would his lover know for him? It was all too much of a gamble for him, and even if he had been raised to believe in Gods and ancient scriptures, Marik still had sense enough to know that fairy tales weren't possible, that not everyone finds their mate, and that sometimes you're just not a pawn in the game of love.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

 

“No thanks.”

 

“Oh…”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

As it turns out, Marik had been wrong about his philosophy. He -was- a pawn and it -was- Marik that `just knew' he had found his lover, while his lover seemed oblivious to the feeling thundering in Marik's chest. Well, that hardly deterred the Egyptian from trying to snatch up what was his, even if it meant paying for just a chance to prove himself.

 

Paying, that is, in a very literal way.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“But you can buy me.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

He had heard once that you always hurt the ones you love.

 

Marik had believed that for longer than he had believed in love, which is why he was careful with his -soon to be- lover and did what he knew he should do. He played the role he was supposed to in order to earn the other's trust; to get him to believe this really wasn't more than work until after Marik had proven himself capable of providing much more than money.

 

Purring against the shell of the pale ear attached to the matching body writhing and sweating beneath him, Marik found that providing proof of security for someone who had never experienced more than prices and fucks was tricky. The other male simply refused to give in, refused to listen to Marik's loving words, and denounced the sweet promises he was fed.

 

He had heard them all before, he said, been strung along for a couple of weeks only to be dumped miles from home and poorer than the last time. No more tricks, he managed to moan as his profession demanded. Eyes dull with tired hope and fake smiles, no more fairy tales.

 

Because of shaky trust and how little they knew of the other, they were a startling clash when entwined, limbs and mouths pressed tight against each other, moving at a pace that should have been painful as much as it was exhausting.

 

Bakura was used to this, so it couldn't pain or fatigue him because he wouldn't allow it to even if it wasn't meant to do either. Instead he shut his eyes to what it could be and refused to see it as it was, Marik's voice rattling him deeply, but ignored all the same.

 

Because when sensation hurts so good, to the point he's very sure it's not hurting at all or ever was, it can't be what he wants it to be.

 

At least, that's what he told himself.

 

Bakura had been doing this long enough to have claimed a territory, made a name for himself, and have a full time schedule others could only dream of; if they ever dreamed of overtime in their degrading profession that is. The money was good though, it paid for the rent and a sliver of food every once in a while, so why should he complain?

 

Oh, and it was his line now, wasn't it?

 

“Yes… Please, more?”

 

His voice was retchingly soft, pleading almost as his pale neck arched in offering while he dug blunt nails into the shoulder blades of the Egyptian above and within him. He wasn't acting too much though, the blond he was with for the night really was remarkable, managing to stir up Bakura's nerves to a pleasurable point he hadn't felt in ages, if ever really. Every nip at his neck made his heart pound just a little harder, every fingertip that rode down his heaving chest making him mewl louder. This was wrong, so very wrong. Bakura wasn't supposed to be touched like that, caressed like that, even as rough as it was the Egyptian was worshipping the pale body like no one else ever had, and it was wrong.

 

“My name… scream it…”

 

“M-Marik!”

 

He hated doing as he was told, especially when snickers and dirty grins were the immediate response, but Bakura had no choice in the matter. Had he chosen a different lifestyle, one where he could dress stiffly each morning and pretend the world didn't get any worse beyond broken copy machines, then maybe he could feel free enough to choose what happened to him and just how often. For now though…

 

He would deal with the humiliation as he always had; take each day and night in stride so long as his body allowed it. Choice was something he had never valued enough, and perhaps this was a punishment crafted to peel his murky eyes wide open to the coarse reality of life.

 

It had worked well so far.

 

At least tonight wasn't terrible, far from it in fact. And if he was going to be brutally honest, Bakura had -wanted- to scream Marik's name anyway, because this was just so much better than he had expected. He had been hoping to run across one of his regular rides when he decided to stroll into a bar he frequented, but when a blond foreigner clad in gold offered him a suggestive grin, Bakura had done what any of his kind did.

 

He had offered himself.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Don't look so appalled, you can just say no.”

 

“…And then what?”

 

“And then I walk away and find someone else. It's not that hard, trust me.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

His fingers were beginning to hurt from just how tightly he had them tangled in the blond mane of the man above him, Bakura moaning from the pit of his soul now as he felt pleasure, -real- pleasure, cascade throughout his body in mind numbing waves. “Ohgod, ohplease…” His words were blurring into one just as his vision was, the distinct quality of the tanned male crisp to his senses though as he touched every inch of the wonderful body torturing his own so well in hopes of memorizing every excruciatingly gorgeous detail.

 

Marik shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be satisfying the pale body to any degree, much less this pinnacle sort.

 

Bakura wouldn't complain though, he had tried, voicing teases about how he should be doing all the work to bring pleasure to the blond rather than being a part of the sexual caresses, but violet eyes had locked with his own and hushed him.

 

A mouth over his own, Bakura drowned in sensation as his body trembled with every strike that befell him within. The kiss, as wrong as it was to allow it, was the gentlest part of the experience. Lacking demand, it only eased away the paler man's thoughts, inviting Bakura to fall away to desire and a comfort he hadn't known in too long. He gladly tumbled into it headlong, ignoring the scorch of his lungs to groan for more as his mouth parted submissively, and a tongue flicked over darker lips in hopes of enticing what rested within.

 

He was beginning to understand now.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“You do this often then?”

 

“It's my job.”

 

“And you like it?”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Marik never stopped pleasing the thrashing body beneath him, even when Bakura moaned that he shouldn't be doing such, shouldn't be doing more than using him, the Egyptian never stopped. He didn't understand why the pale beauty resisted acknowledging how good it felt to be more than just a fucktool, he also didn't understand why Bakura fought so hard to keep the feral noises of his pleasure locked away. So Marik did what he could. He thrust harder, sucked longer, and kissed as tenderly as he knew how, and eventually…

 

Eventually Bakura began to respond.

 

“Please… Marik… A-ah!”

 

And even when it was over, his own grunt mingling with the paler's guttural moan of release as their kiss had captured the raw sound and made it vibrate from their throats to their toes, Marik stayed and touched and caressed the tired body as it shuddered and cooled beneath him in silent, thankful bliss.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“You know what? Fuck off, I'll go find someone else to-”

 

“Let's go.”

 

“What?”

 

“Come on, my place or yours?”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“I should get going…” He didn't want to though, it felt so good to be held for longer than an instant, and so Bakura merely mumbled it while the man behind him continued to run fingers and palms over his pale torso, eyes shutting with a sigh as lips found his shoulder and lingered. “Any longer and… and it'll cost you an hour more.” He sounded pathetic, interrupting himself with his own mewl and shudder, not bothering to resist when arms clasped around him and hugged him closer to the darker, warmer body.

 

“I don't care… Just stay.”

 

The deep voice rumbled in his ear, making him quake weakly in a way that didn't feel dirty or wrong. Marik wanted him to stay, and why shouldn't he? The bed was warm, although a tad sticky, the company was the best he'd ever had, and somehow it felt right, like something he had been missing was suddenly in his hands again, laughing at him for worrying of its absence. “How long do you want me to stay?”

 

Sheets stirred while they were tugged and draped over their bodies, Marik's hand drifting until it found and clasped together with Bakura's own. The quiet was soft and comforting, freshly evened breaths mixing when the shorter of the two turned from one side to the other, facing the violet eyes that soothed him in more ways than he had realized he needed. “Preferably forever…”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

“Yours, and how much are you willing to spend?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“How long do you want me to stay?”

 

“Preferably forever.”

 

“Ha, if you can afford me for that long, sure.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Bakura had always thought love at first sight was a joke, after all, how could anyone know what `love' was if it was the first time they were experiencing it?

 

~*~*~*~*~