Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ No Traffic ❯ Track 1 ( Chapter 1 )

No Traffic

 

This is an entry for Ryou-Bakura 1's fanfic challenge.

 

Warning: This story contains Yaoi. Well duh, the challenge called for either Seto x Ryou or Yami x Ryou. It has to have Yaoi. Near-rape situations… blahblahblah. Thus, it's rated R.

 

(1) This story is set in AU. Let me make a few clarifications:

Seto has no brother. He never had one. He will never have one.

Yami and Yugi are brothers. Bakura and Ryou are brothers. Marik and Malik are brothers. Ok?

There is no Honda/Tristan in this story - I don't like him. In fact, there is no Shizuka/Serenity either. Jounochi/Joey might not be in it as well. (I'll have to think about that *gets hit by rocks thrown by Jou fans*) unfortunately - ::plays sad music:: - Anzu is in the story. *sobs*

Otogi is sexy in this story… ok… he's ALWAYS sexy. Forget that.

They're all street racers… well not all, but most are.

(2) Age:

Yami - 20

Bakura - 19

Marik - 19

Otogi - 18

Seto - 20

 

Ryou - 16

Yugi - 16

Malik - 16

Hoshi - 15

 

(3) Cars:

Yami - metallic red Porsche GT2; violet neon light; black tinted windows

Bakura - white Supra; red neon light; black tinted windows

Marik - metallic purple RX-8; pale blue neon light; dark red tint

Seto - metallic blue Acura NSX; white neon light; dark blue tint

Otogi - metallic green Eclipse

Hoshi - silver Evolution VIII; green neon light; black tint

 

Track 1

 

The night was still young, fresh with the fragrance of sleep and darkness. One by one, the street lamps came to life. The city of Domino had gone to sleep - save for the beasts that devoured the night with their thunderous roars.

 

Brown eyes wide, Ryou clung to his seat for life, his snowy white hair whipped here and there as Bakura made sharp and frequent turns. He could feel the seat belt choking him as his body was thrashed around, regretting fervently for getting into the car with his brother. Just as the white Supra came to an abrupt stop, Ryou immediately released the breath he had been holding.

 

“You… you're insane! You shouldn't drive like that! You could get killed!” he ranted with anger until the fear he had kept in poured endlessly. Wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his denim jacket, Ryou continued to scorn his brother, though incoherently. Without showing even a bit of concern, Bakura stepped out while saying, “You're the one who wanted to come and see the race. You should've thought about the consequences.”

 

Ryou's legs shook as he stepped out of the car, still muttering about his insane brother. He could feel his whole body going into a violent tremor, and, without a warning, his body collapsed onto the ground. He was determined to stay on the ground for the rest of the night, until a gloved hand came his way. Looking up, Ryou met a pair of dashing crimson eyes.

 

“Need help?” a silky yet strong voice asked, eyes smiling with sincerity. Timidly reaching for the hand, Ryou blushed when he was suddenly leaning against the stranger's chest. The grudge and frustration all floated away without a backward glance as Ryou stayed in those strong arms… then they came back when he heard Bakura's voice.

 

“Yo, Yami! Where's Marik?”

 

The handsome stranger - Yami - gave Bakura a shrug before walking away. A good deal of silence passed before Bakura opened his mouth and said, “Forget it, Ryou. He's taken.”

 

Even before the younger one could question the reason behind the warning, Bakura continued, “Yami's the best street racer in Domino. Girls love him. And right now, this cheap slut seems to have full claim on him.”

 

“I never said I liked him…” Ryou's voice trailed off into a weak whisper, and to this, Bakura replied, “Sure, sure. Let's go join the others.”

 

Hope was cruel. Ryou decided while taking slow steps behind Bakura. When they finally stopped, Ryou's breath took a dive back down his throat.

 

He had never seen so many cars in one place.

 

Neon lights. Tinted windows. Roaring engines of different sorts. Modified doors. Loud stereo systems. Black, silver, white, red, blue, green, pink, they came in millions of colors. But the lines of cars there were nothing compared to the one in the center, the one Yami was standing proudly beside.

 

A metallic red Porsche GT2 with blinking violet neon light and black tinted windows was the prize of all eyes. Some even took notes on the type of engine Yami had, scribbling busily on their arms. A group of people, enchanted by the monstrous machine, took no heed to the engine that roared behind them. With a slam of the door, a dark, muscular figure stepped out of his metallic purple Mazda RX-8 with a threatening growl. The RX-8 had an intimidating and lethal ambience, the pale blue lights covering the machine with a ghostly touch.

 

“Marik, glad you could make it. And nice entrance,” Yami teased, Marik responding with a grin. Taking a quick look around, Marik noted the absence of a familiar and expensive blue Acura NSX. Casually brushing the blond strands out of his intense violet eyes and paying no attention to the harmony of girls swooning, Marik asked, “Where's Seto?”

 

“Right here,” a cold voice answered, stepping into the light, “And you're late.”

 

“Girls prefer rebels over a certain punctual man,” Marik hissed back playfully, heading back to his car. Long whistles followed the comment, waiting for Seto's comment. Thin lips curled up in amusement as Seto replied, “Hope your tendency to be late doesn't repeat in tonight's race.”

 

Stepping in before anything could start, Yami said, “The two of you better chill before I give tonight's race to Bakura and myself. Tonight's race is just an ordinary race. Two members from each team will race. The first person will race the designated streets once. The second person will be waiting here, and when the first driver comes back, the second half begins. However, the second person can only begin once he sees his teammate's lights. Seto and Marik will represent my team tonight. Otogi and Hoshi will race against them.”

 

A rather thin youth with long raven black hair stepped up with a confident smirk, brushing his finger over his trademark dice earring. Brilliant green eyes locked on Seto, Otogi raised an elegant finger to him before smoothly rolling a warning off his tongue, “Seto Kaiba. Your long streak of winning ends tonight.”

 

Merely acknowledging his opponent's presence with a glance, Seto stepped into his car and drove out to the starting line. Marik eyed his opponent warily, trying to look past the demure and innocent face while fascinated by it. The young boy - Hoshi - stepped into his Evolution VIII, unaware of the intense scrutiny. Sooner or later, Seto and Otogi were ready to start, their cars waiting side by side for the signal to start.

 

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…5…4…3…2…1! Go!”

 

Shielding his face against the blinding dust that trailed the two cars, Ryou looked up when he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. Buttoning up Ryou's jacket carefully, Bakura said, “I have to go to the mid-point of the race. Stay here, and, if you need anything, ask Yami.”

 

Before Ryou could let out another word, Bakura was gone, his white Supra followed by a rush of dust. The uneasiness he had felt heightened to a new level, the intimidation he felt from the crowd of people growing inside him. Squeezing past the massive crowd, Ryou looked around for Yami, suppressing a small giggle when he saw the handsome face illuminated by the numerous lights.

 

He was about to call for Yami when a gloved hand clasped over his mouth, the vile taste of leather pressing against his lips. Ryou couldn't even put up a struggle as he was pulled back, led away from the roaring crowd and… Yami…

 

*^-^*

Seto shifted into fourth gear at the straightway course, getting comfortable in his seat. He had lost Otogi a while ago. The pompous fool had spoken way too early. His winning streak was about to be prolonged, Seto surmised. Just then, Otogi's dark green Eclipse charged in from a blocked corner, the rusty iron fence flying through the air.

 

*^-^*

 

He could feel his heart quicken in its rhythms, erratic and radiating fear. The gloved fingers trembled over Ryou's skin, as if this stranger was touching something precious. Mouth gagged, ankles and wrists bound, Ryou let out a muffled struggle as a hand snuck under his pants. Fingers roughly caressed his inner thighs, quickening the fall of Ryou's tears. Muscles tense, Ryou closed his eyes shut when he felt his pants being removed. He desperately pleaded for someone to rescue him, his struggles dying in their strength. The vicious hands now proceeded to tear off his clothes, exploring the pale expanse of the youth's body. He could feel the revulsion and fear rise up in his throat…

 

Suddenly, with a grunt, Ryou's captor fell, sprawled out on the ground. Gentle fingers curled over Ryou's shoulder, his savior's breath leaving feathery touch on his skin. Moments later, Yami found his arms holding the frightened boy, hand stroking the soft white hair to leave no chase of the tangible fear.

 

“I wasn't too late… was I?” Yami asked, putting some distance between himself and the boy. He adored the way Ryou shook his head, hand busily wiping away the tears. Removing his own dark jacket in a chivalrous conduct, he draped it over the pale shoulders.

 

“How'd you know I was…” Ryou trailed off, avoiding Yami's concerned gaze. The shame that echoed his words only reminded him of the vile act he was subjected to. It felt wrong to look at Yami. It felt wrong to have the other so concerned. They had never met before this night and he was already causing trouble. Untroubled by all that's happened, Yami casually replied, “Bakura told me to look after you. His exact words were: `Ryou's too pretty for his own good'… and I think so too.”

 

Hands flew to cover the blush on his face as Ryou hurried to get out of the situation they were in. Caught in the joyful flurry of affectionate praise, Ryou had forgotten about Bakura's warning: Yami was with someone else. He couldn't suppress the disappointment that filled him relentlessly.

 

“Ne, Yami-san…”

 

“Just Yami. No formal attachment, please,” the handsome youth added with a suggestive wink, “Unless you'd like to call me `Yami-chan'.”

 

“Yami… are you-”

 

“Yami! Come quick! Bakura's report's coming in!” someone called out hastily, urgency overflowing the capacity of sentiment his voice could hold. Stumbling over to the charismatic figure, the amateur driver held out a small transmitter. Bakura's voice frantically called from the tiny device.

 

[He's fast! I don't know what he's got in that beast, but it's no ordinary Eclipse. Seto might actually lose! They just passed by, and Seto's at Otogi's bumper! They're coming your way!]

 

“Shit. I have to warn Marik,” Yami muttered under his breath, his fingers tightly closed over the transmitter. Taking Ryou's hand, and making sure everything was all right with the boy, Yami hurried to where the RX-8 was. The blonde driver was casually sitting in his car, music blaring from his stereo system. His young opponent, Hoshi, seemed to be in deep thought; his eyes were closed behind the rolled up windows.

 

“Marik! Get ready!” Yami shouted, signaling the crowd to clear the road. As soon as the last person was off the street, they heard a monstrous shriek, and two sets of blinding lights followed. The two cars were close to each other and driving so fast, a mere tap would have sent them spinning into a nearby building.

 

Hoshi, taking advantage of Marik's lack of preparation, pulled ahead, cutting in front of Marik's path. Each time Marik tried to pull ahead, Hoshi was a step before his maneuver. Soon, the two cars disappeared from sight.

 

Yami turned full attention toward Otogi, the lean youth engrossed in Seto's lack of surprise or frustration. Slamming his fist on his car, Otogi burst into an outrage that only he could make to be elegant.

 

“I planned everything out! Every corner and shortcut, I memorized them all! How did I lose?!”

 

“At the last turn, you went in with too much power so you had to slow down, exiting with even less power. Force can sometimes be played as a disadvantage,” Seto commented coolly, stepping in his car to lead it away from the crowd of fans.

 

Standing close, Yami and Ryou waited for the second set of drivers, their anticipation growing with the faint purring of engine in the distance. Surprisingly, the two rolled slowly into a stop, the low purring fading into silence. Bakura's Supra stopped behind them, and the three drivers stepped out of their individual cars.

 

“I forfeited,” Hoshi confessed, drawing gasps from everyone. Otogi seemed unable to suppress his disappointment. Clearing his throat, Bakura began to explain, “In the middle of the second lap, Marik lightly tapped Hoshi's rear bumper. Hoshi slid out, losing his control of the inside of the track, and Marik pulled ahead. After a while, Hoshi flickered his lights twice, meaning he was surrendering.”

 

*^-^*

 

Raising a glass of celebration to a jingle of merriment, Yami cheerily said, “Tonight's race was great. I'm glad I got to know such skilled racers like Otogi and Hoshi. I'm a bit surprised at Hoshi, racing so recklessly at age fifteen. I admire you yet I worry.”

 

As a timid smile graced his lips, Hoshi replied with his usual timid demeanor, “No need to worry, Yami-san. I race for what I believe is right, and I don't think much can go wrong from there.”

 

“Still,” Marik interjected, thick veil of concern shrouding his usual cocky attitude, “Don't you think that a kid like you should be enjoying less reckless things?”

 

“Worried, Marik?” Bakura noted, a calm smirk playing on his collected and cunning visage. Raising a graceful glance to his teammate, he added, “The boy, I'm sure, has his own motives for entering our world. I doubt he's unaware of its dangers.”

 

Taking a sip of the alcohol from his glass, Seto came to a rather reluctant agreement with the driver known for his blizzard-like temper. Bakura was an enigma, cunning yet uninterested away from the wheels, but, place him in his car, his passion would kick up from its restraints and unleash the beast that hid behind the brown hues.

 

Marik was the risk-taker. He lived for the thrill of speed and madness of victory, insatiable glint blazing in his violet orbs. He drove like a maniac - a maniac who had never lost. He had once been hospitalized after a victory, having suffered multiple broken bones. Underneath the fanged grin and cocky attitude lay even a more destructive monster.

 

The analytical mind, Seto, was never wrong in his calculations. If he predicted a victory, it came undoubtedly. Seto's prestige was known for precise calculations and analysis. Yet, his skills as a driver seemed never to fall far behind his brilliance. Seto had never lost a race, none could recall a time when they had seen his Acura NSX trail. He claimed only his teammates could pass him, especially one person.

 

Yami was known to be lethal behind the wheels, yet the feverish passion never surpassed his control. He never raced without a leaf of plan, face drawn in calculating smirks and gazes. His posture never seemed to drip with arrogance, instead, he offered many times to aid his followers and fans improve. It was this unexpected generosity that won Yami his fame and respect, other than his good looks and driving skills - Yami looked at all with humble perspective.

 

Touching his lips with his glass, Otogi raised a graceful brow as he noted, “I'm surprised Bakura-kun's brother didn't recognize Hoshi from his school. Hoshi never ceases in talking of the ever so angelic and beautiful Ryou.”

 

“I… I didn't think it was the same person… he was so different,” Ryou murmured apologetically, unaware of Yami's arm that casually crept over his shoulders until too late; Bakura kept down the sudden flinch. The innocent blush on Ryou's face deepened in color as Yami pulled him closer while saying, “Hey, tonight's all about celebration and meeting new people. I'm glad I met Ryou. He's a whole lot better looking than Bakura is.”

While Yami dodged the aptly thrown cup, the others continued to laugh and talk, feeling none of the tension from earlier in the night.

 

= = = End of First Track = = =

 

Author's note: I love cars. I love Yu-Gi-Oh bishies~ So I put them together. Hopefully, the readers will like it.

 

Please R&R!