Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Run Me Down ❯ Run Me Down ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

~*~*~*~*~
 
The rush of lights and sounds was almost too much, blinding and deafening in a massive swirl of living chaos. It was all around in an invisible heat, enveloping one and all from head to foot so pleasurably it would have been sin to want to escape the cradling touch of the nightlife. Well, early morning really, but who was checking the time?
 
Certainly not Bakura.
 
Jagged, wild spikes of silvery hair framed his almost deathly pale face, vibrant eyes of bled brown sparking as shadows cast themselves across him with every one of his twists and slithers performed to the accompaniment of pulsing music. The establishment was filled to a nearly uncomfortable level, but even with the presence of hundreds of writhing bodies slipping against each other in clothed mockery of sex, Bakura managed to stand out and silently demand attention. Every step was measured and confident, watched by a sea of ecstasy lidded eyes in hopes of luring the handsome pale man toward them with a flirtatious smile and blatantly erotic gyration of hips that promised rough foreplay and mind-numbing satisfaction.
 
But he didn't take the bait.
 
No, none of the dancers were of any interest, the waitresses and drinkers were generic as well. Pretty faces painted on with meticulous care, fabulous bodies smeared with sweat and evidence of possessive kisses, it was all the same. Bakura had seen it all and grown steadily impatient with such mundane scenes for a while now. Oh sure, he would eventually give in and kick back one too many drinks while inviting some random sleaze to his place for quick sex, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the routine.
 
“The usual?”
 
Bakura's darkened eyes flitted up from their vacant gaze into the crowd to meet the amused face of his best friend, who also happened to be a bartender at the club he found himself frequenting more often than he'd like to admit. “Yeah… Thanks.” The chilled beer was poured out and handed over even as he swiveled around to face the bar, shoulders hunching over in an effort to hide and escape from the living migraine surrounding him as Bakura sighed and drank with little enthusiasm.
 
“So, how goes the ass-hunting? See anything you wanna fuck? Or maybe ride?”
 
“I wish.” A snort and roll of eyes were all he offered the blond, Bakura grinning slightly despite the fact Mariku was clearly teasing him about his predictable behavior. “Nothing's walked in here worth getting drunk for. Maybe I'll be forced to take up your offer tonight.”
 
“Really?” The Egyptian grinned hopefully, the mess of hair that stood out almost dangerously quivering with excitement at the mere prospect of bedding the pale man before him. Mariku's crush turned lust on the white-haired male was evident from miles away, and while he had offered himself to Bakura more than a handful of times, the two had never even once seen each other more than shirtless by Bakura's insistence. He didn't want to risk their demented representation of a friendship over a one night romp, so Bakura had made it clear early on that they would never sleep with each other, although Mariku always held out for the impossible.
 
“No, dumbass. Now get me another.” Alcohol replenished within seconds by his half-pouting friend, Bakura took to scanning around again, pointedly ignoring the flutter of lashes those near him insisted on sending his way. “I think I'm just going to go home. My clothes are starting to smell like cigarettes, beer, and sweat anyway, and I don't feel like listening to Ryou bitch about how my laundry stinks.”
 
“Aw, sibling quarrels, how adorable.” Mariku snickered as he filled out orders and collected tips within fluid sweeps from one task to another, never missing a beat as he grinned at the paler man despite the growl he was sent. “Your brother is such a cute thing, you should treat him more kindly, especially since he keeps your lazy ass sheltered and fed.”
 
“Fuck off. I'm the one who's raised him and paid for everything. Including his dates with that Yuugi shit, he owes me.”
 
“If that's what you like to tell yourself…”
 
Bakura glared into the violet eyes now level with him, lips fighting to keep from twitching into a snarl just so he could walk away before things got out of hand. Mariku was the last person he wanted to fight with, one because the blond could easily take him down, and two because he really was the only friend Bakura could tolerate for more than five minutes. “I'm going.”
 
“Okay. Walk safely.”
 
“Walk? What the fuck are you- Damn it, give me back my car keys! I only had-”
 
“Two beers from me, Mai had served you three when you had first walked in, two from Otogi, two from Honda, and another three from Mai. Twelve is more than enough to get you buzzed. You're walking.” Not that Bakura had a habit of driving while intoxicated, but the Egyptian didn't feel like receiving a phone call about identifying a pale corpse when it was easily preventable with a frown and cross of his arms over his chest. Aside from the underlying fact that he cared for Bakura's wellbeing, with the pale man gone, who would Mariku have to pester on weekends if his best friend were stone cold in the morgue somewhere?
 
“Actually, I had thirteen.” The paler man snorted, smoothing out his jeans as he stood and paid for the drinks he had just finished, grin spreading on his face as he turned around. “Your boyfriend sold me one when I went upstairs to watch the cage-dancing.”
 
“He is -not- my boyfriend, you ass!”
 
Laughing as he walked away, the tease in Bakura's tone was just loud enough to be heard over the latest song. “Not yet… I'm sure Yami'll say yes though. Quit being so fucking shy and ask him out already!” Not having to look at his best friend to know the blond was blushing beneath his tan, Bakura was able to leave the club with at least some satisfaction in his pocket for the night. Mariku and his odd choice in crushes was always an amusement.
 
As welcoming as it was to escape the heavy warmth of the club though, the fresh air he was met with didn't settle well with Bakura's head or stomach. He hadn't gone more than ten paces before his confident stride began to falter as the alcohol in his veins began to sway to life, taking his balance hostage with each step thereafter. “Fuck… Who built these sidewalks at an angle? Idiots.” Refusing to admit he was drunk, Bakura continued on his way, hiding his stagger rather well as he slowed down and stuck to keeping a hand against buildings and fences as he went along for several labored minutes.
 
Another block to go and he would be on his own property where he could collapse in the middle of the yard if he really wanted to, especially since he remembered that his house keys had been attached to his car keys. He'd kill Mariku later for inconveniencing him like this. For now Bakura had to figure out how to cross the street without falling over since there was nothing to help him keep steady once he were to begin walking across. Scowling at the painted crosswalk for not being of any real help to him, the pale man huffed and took determined steps forward. No street was about to conquer him!
 
“Holy shit!”
 
The exclamation and squeal of tires came as a surprise just after he had stumbled into the street, Bakura blinking away the haze hooding his mind and eyes just in time to see a single headlight swerve away from him and topple over with a painful shriek of metal being torn into by pavement. The motorcycle, which he managed to identify with the help of a streetlamp shining just in the right direction, skidded several yards before coming to a groaned stop against a parked car, the engine of the bike still growling in frustration as the wheels spun as though trying to claw the vehicle back into motion even without its rider.
 
Oh fuck.
 
Where was the rider?
 
Bakura's brain kicked in finally with a spark of dread. It was -his- drunken fault the motorcycle had to veer and lose control, and it would be -his- fault if the rider was dead, especially if he didn't put in the effort to find him and help.
 
“Oi?! Rider? Are you alright?!” Spinning in place so he could look around in all directions, Bakura figured out that wasn't the best thing to do as his body flailed and found itself on the ground from the dizzying movement soon after. Ass and elbows throbbing from the impact onto the pavement, nothing more than a hiss escaped him before Bakura heard a very pissed off sounding groan coming from his right. “You're alive!” Concern for being charged with involuntary manslaughter out the window, Bakura shakily crawled over to the sprawled out figure, who had thankfully been wearing a helmet. Another groan or two and the figure managed to get both arms into pushing until finally regaining the ability to sit up while Bakura sighed in relief. “I'm so fucking sorry, are you alri-”
 
“My Baby!” The boy, as the voice filled with horror indicated, suddenly found the strength to not only stand, but run toward the fallen motorcycle, drop to his knees beside the silent machine, and throw his arms around the middle of it with a wail. “You bastard! Look what you did to my bike!”
 
Not understanding why the motorcycle's wellbeing was more important than the boy's, Bakura raised a brow and took the interruption as an opportunity to stand again, knees buckling and body just not willing to take him in the right direction without a trip or two along the way. “Look, I don't care about your bike, are you al-” And this time it wasn't the boy to interrupt him, instead Bakura found his tongue tangled and numb from shock. The boy had hopped to his feet in a huff, hands, which were gloved with fingerless leather that wrapped enticingly up to both elbows, loosening the strap beneath his chin to pluck away the clunky -and lifesaving- helmet. It was what resided beneath the obscuring helmet that enthralled Bakura. Lavender eyes heatedly glared at him past platinum bangs, the effect striking against the tanned flesh, which was flaunted in more ways that could be considered decent once Bakura -really- looked over the presence before him. With a black tank top that was missing most of its lower portion, fashionably tattered jeans, and a body to fill out the clothes with all the right curves and sculpted teases, the boy was dripping sex with every heated breath that accompanied his exotic glare.
 
“What kind of idiot just strolls into the street without looking both ways first? Don't they teach you that sort of basic crap here? Moron…” The last of it had been muttered, pale blond hair swishing about with every irritated shake of the boy's head as he rattled on and even switched languages, storming away from Bakura to tend to the fallen motorcycle once more. “Don't worry, baby. They're just scratches; we'll buff them out and get you a paint job, sound good?”
 
Ignoring the fact the younger male was crooning to and petting the bike like a wounded animal, Bakura felt a surge of drunken confidence suddenly well up when he noted that the boy was mounting the vehicle to leave. That simply wouldn't do. He wasn't about to let the other go and zip off like they had never met. “Oi!” Not even initiating a response from the blond, Bakura grumbled and ran, as in stumbled, toward the boy, pale hands planting themselves on the cold bars that arched between the handles to keep the other from going anywhere.
 
Unless the blond chose to run him over.
 
“What. Do. You. Want. -Now-?”
 
Which was what the boy was threatening with narrowed eyes and a steely growl.
 
The icy glare sent shivers down his spine in jagged spurts, Bakura swallowing away the uneasiness that confused and thrilled him in a heady mixture of agitation and untapped infatuation. No one had ever spoken to him like that; no one had ever had the balls. Pale as a ghost with demonically horned hair and livid eyes that sparked loathing for practically everyone who dared blink at him, Bakura had always been left alone for the mere reason that no one knew what he was capable of if pushed too far. He acquired the crazed look of a wild animal when disturbed by those he didn't favor, a creature that chewed viciously at the societal bars holding him back from tearing apart the moralities humanity insisted on shoving down his throat. Principles be damned, Bakura had never really withheld from cracking fist against jaw when someone rattled anything he didn't like, but this boy was more than just a someone.
 
“What's your name?” The slur of his words was kept away by willpower alone, for Bakura was still intoxicated and would remain that way until time rinsed his veins clean, but the edgy tone to his voice remained. Confident as usual, the paler of the two straddled the front tire and leaned closer to the blond until Bakura could feel the night-lit steel press against the flat of his stomach and chest, the nearly icy contact making his skin tingle, Bakura hiding his slight discomfort with a suggestive grin.
 
The boy wasn't impressed though. Instead a fair brow rose in near distaste, lips quirking until a relevantly fine scowl appeared. “Like I'd tell you? Now stop humping my bike and get lost. I'm sure there're other places for winos to stagger to.” Another glare and the blond swatted at Bakura's hands to rid his motorcycle of the offending touch, lavender eyes widening considerably when his wrist was caught, pale fingers curled around just where the bones met and eliciting a twinge of pain up his arm. “Let go! Or I'll run you down nuts first!” The bark of laughter he received from the wild haired man certainly wasn't what he had been expecting, but the boy felt the hitch of panic in his body simmer down when the man grinned more sanely and let him go.
 
“So, you going to tell me your name now? Or should I grab you again? Maybe even toss in a grope?”
 
Looking a bit offended, the blond snorted and crossed his arms, tongue flicking out rudely. “Sorry, I'm not into old guys-”
 
“I'm not old!”
 
“Fine, I'm not into -any- guys.” Silence followed that statement, lavender eyes flicking around as the boy waited for the other to shove off already, but more laughter filled the air again, and it certainly wasn't his own. The blond made it a point to growl in frustration at the pale man, fingers clenching and causing a faint creak of leather where the gloves met at his knuckles. “What is so funny?”
 
Bakura didn't know where to begin, body trembling from his outburst as he stood and shook his head. “Look, no straight man would ever dress the way you are, openly hug their motorcycle, or wear mascara-”
 
“It's kohl, you jackass!”
 
“Whatever. The point is, you're either ten feet deep in denial, or you simply haven't discovered the finer perks of male companionship.”
 
“Shut up.” Another glare, but this time there was less passion to it, the boy caught up in his own arms as he locked his eyes to the ground. Bakura felt as though he should apologize for some reason, he wasn't sure if he had treaded into blackened waters, but the way the younger male seemed to curl into himself and wish away the conversation made Bakura sigh in regret. “Malik.” Confusion at first, but once he noticed the blond had straightened up and was watching him cautiously, Bakura figured out the other was introducing himself, returning the gesture with his own name and a small grin. “So, Bakura… You always walk around drunk and dressed like a one eight-hundred hooker to pick up guys?”
 
Alright, he deserved that. Rolling his eyes with a click of his tongue, Bakura fingered the fishnet shirt he wore, the sleeveless attire hugging his torso firmly and diving past the waistline of his pants, which resembled the color of a turbulent storm beneath the glazed light of the streetlamp. “No, only on weekends actually.”
 
Malik grinned at the humored reply, nodding and starting his motorcycle with a light bounce on the seat to kick the engine on more thoroughly. “If you're not too wasted to give me directions, I can drop you off at home. Unless you want to stay out here and risk really getting run over.” The concern in Bakura's face, there because he had thought the boy was leaving again, melted away with a sharp nod into a gleeful expression of gratitude and anticipation. He already knew how to situate himself on a motorcycle and hold on, Marik had taken him on a joyride or two on his own bike several times before, but Bakura didn't see the harm in pretending to be a first timer. Especially since Malik then insisted Bakura hold on tighter and scoot closer because most new riders tended to freak out.
 
And what a wonderful ride it was. Well, considering it lasted maybe a whole minute since they were already at the corner of his street, but Bakura found it to be the most exhilarating sixty seconds of his life. Chest pressed firmly against the narrow back before him, he welcomed the warmth Malik gave off and wished to be buried in it, nose digging through blond hair and inhaling the mix of flowery shampoo and night air. Unfortunately, just as his hips had found the perfect position in which to nuzzle against the younger male's rump, Bakura felt the motorcycle slow and tip slightly as Malik waited for his passenger to hop off, which Bakura did, although quite reluctantly.
 
“Thanks.” He didn't quite meet the blonde's face, finding the sidewalk to be amazingly intriguing at the moment while kicking his heel along the curb with a regrettable sigh. Bakura didn't want to part here, but how cheesy would it be to invite the other in? Especially when Bakura was lacking a key and would have to suffer from the embarrassment of having to call his younger brother to let him in.
 
“Aren't you going inside?” Malik continued to watch the pale man, admiring the way Bakura's gruff exterior faltered whenever he was spoken to and caught off guard. Leaning forward against one of the handles, he ran his fingers repeatedly over what parts of the cold steel he wasn't draped against, grin forming when Bakura finally looked at him and seemed to forget whatever troubles had been rumbling in his head, staring dumbly instead and openly tracking his dark eyes over the curves of Malik's body wrapped so enticingly atop the softly purring machine.
 
“I'm locked out…”
 
Lavender eyes blinked a few times at the abrupt break in tension before Malik smirked and laughed, straightening once more and canting his head to the side to regard the paler with a seemingly bored glance. “Tough shit. Guess you'll be sleeping on the steps then, huh?” Even as he revved the engine, the blonde kept an eye on Bakura's expression, grinning openly at the fidgeting and broken nod. “Alright then. Well, I'm heading to my hotel now, which has a comfortable enough looking couch…” Not surprised that he had to wait a moment or two before Bakura interpreted the hint, Malik rolled his eyes when he finally felt the pale man squirm on behind him again, chuckling with a shake of his head at the quiet thanks he was offered. Why he bothered to help Bakura remained mostly unknown, it wasn't like he was into picking up strangers and taking them home within the first few minutes of speaking to them, but Malik supposed he owed the pale man a place to sleep after nearly running him over earlier. Plus, Bakura wasn't that bad too look over…
 
Even though the hotel was relatively close, it wasn't until an hour or two later that the pair were ready to call it a night. They had mutually agreed to munching on something while talking about themselves a bit more, and while they found each other interesting enough to want to know more, yawns soon became too frequent to ignore. Both offering the other a sleepy grin of apology, they allowed themselves indulgent stretches before collapsing on the nearest surface, which happened to be the bed for the both of them.
 
“Ngh… you're supposed to have the couch, Kura…” A yawn had interrupted him just as he had been saying the paler's name, Malik grinning with lidded eyes at the new epithet he'd discovered.
 
Grunting in reply, Bakura rolled onto his side to regard the boy distastefully, nose wrinkling in annoyance when the younger playfully shoved at his shoulder. “I'm not getting up; the couch is like three whole feet away. Besides, the bed's big enough and I promise not to touch you in naughty places.”
 
“Lazy-assed pervert.” But the blond grinned and shrugged a shoulder as best he could while rolling onto his stomach, which knowingly or not allowed him to squirm closer to Bakura. “You sure you can control yourself?” Another grunt of a response and Bakura blindly swatted at the younger without any real intention to make contact, although he did laugh when the blond stifled a yelp at having his rear smacked. “Oi!”
 
“What?”
 
Malik glowered at the snicker and drawl from Bakura, the boy huffing and turning onto his side as well to chastise the pale man more effectively, not failing to notice the closing distance between them. “You said you wouldn't touch me!”
 
“Correction. I said I wouldn't touch you in naughty places…”
 
“Well my ass certainly isn't sacred ground!”
 
“That was nothing. Trust me, you'll know when I touch you inappropriately.”
 
“Oh?...” Brow raised expectantly, Malik seemed to offer himself to a demonstration without much more than slightly arching his back so his chest nearly brushed against Bakura's, the warmth solidly trapped and shared between them sending a fine mix of heady sensations throughout their bodies.
 
“You know…” A small purr and coy grin in place, Bakura arched his neck so he could peer closer into the blonde's eyes, which were lidding for a wholly different reason now, “For someone who's not into guys, you sure know how to flirt like a pro…”
 
“Mm… Actually…” Malik smiled far too innocently, rogue finger marching along the paler male's leg and coming up to trail lazy patterns of nonsense along Bakura's arm as the younger purred and let their noses bump gently. “I meant I wasn't into any guys `at the moment'… A bad break up kind of left me wary, and I didn't want to come across as a rebound-whore.” Malik grinned to the spark of renewed interest in the paler man's eyes, lavender ones shutting as the blonde's head tipped back to present smiling lips, daring the other to kiss him. “But I'm ready to move on to better things without second guessing myself. Question is, are you willing to escort me?”
 
He wasn't exactly sure what had altered the blonde's attitude, but far be it for Bakura to complain. Maybe Malik had finally taken note of just how stunning the paler was? Perhaps he had been playing him since they'd exchanged names? Whatever the reason, Bakura grinned regardless and answered in a rushed whisper as he shed off restraint. “Hell yeah…” The kiss came quick and hard, teeth clicking together not enough to hurt, but Malik did giggle at the paler's drunken fumble before being effectively swallowed up.
 
Already close enough as it was, the two didn't even notice when their bodies began to press and brush against one another fitfully, only the wonderful tingling rapidly spreading throughout their bodies harnessing their attention. They began to twist around, making a mess of the sheets as they rolled one way and then the other in mindless direction that kept them from toppling to the ground by luck alone. Dark hands tangled in white locks while paler digits worked diligently at ridding the trembling tanned body of damnable clothing. Article by article Malik was freed from the threads and leather that dared to keep such beauty locked away from mahogany eyes, and when Bakura finally convinced the younger male to release his hair so the tank top could be slipped from slender arms and tossed aside, Bakura felt his heart thud just a little harder.
 
“Quit staring, it's rude…” Malik grinned, propping himself up on elbows so he could better touch his lips to Bakura's neck, teeth and tongue worshipping the moon-brushed flesh while his own body was skimmed over with faintly trembling hands. Being straddled was all good and fun, but only if his partner was actually doing something while up there, and while Malik felt a little dirty for wanting to just get to the sex already, all the undressing and groping they'd done in the past few minutes had worked him up.
 
Literally.
 
Exasperated sigh released, the blond shoved Bakura off himself and giggled at the yelp, quickly pinning pale arms to the bed while he clambered atop the other. “Look, you can stare at me all you want, but let's keep this moving. The sun's nearly up, and while I don't mind being an exhibitionist, I'd rather the maid -not- walk in on us.”
 
Bakura nodded dumbly to the slight edge in the voice and found himself tangled in his own shirt once the blond began to tug it up and over Bakura's head without warning, pale chest arching toward the hot mouth that attached itself to one of his nipples. Goddamn fishnet shirt! Moaning to the heat being showered across his torso, Bakura tried to keep his mind as fogless as possible so he could take the shirt off completely, which wasn't an easy task when his arms were caught above his head in said clothing at the same time someone was nipping below his navel while fingers blatantly yanked on his pants' zipper and tugged the suckers down and off his body nearly violently. Boxers too.
 
Giggling, which Bakura found to be very inappropriate given their current situation, Malik lightly skimmed fingers over the half-hardened flesh he had been digging for. “Ooh, so you are a natural, um… silver?” Well, he wasn't sure what to call Bakura's particular hair color, but the blond snickered and ignored the groan from the other.
 
Able to see through the fishnet as Malik smirked and watched him squirm, Bakura had every right to kick the blond away for not freeing him, but the younger's fingers were quick to distract the paler from such an idea. There was a hint of lavender in the air now, and had Bakura maintained the sense to look down more carefully, he would have noticed the open bottle of floral scented lotion resting an arm's length away from his hips. But how could he have mustered the ability to look for something so unimportant when slender fingers, slicked and scented now, not that he could tell the difference at this point, were worming their way past his tensed body's only defense. Well, not much of a defense as pale legs almost immediately spread apart wider to allow the blond, who was snickering and looking very smug even if Bakura didn't know it, further access to such an intimate location.
 
The ring of muscle was tight and Malik had to work both digits continuously while gently blowing on the paler's hardening arousal as distraction before Bakura's body quivered and relented. “This your first time?... On bottom, I mean. A blind man could even tell you've had sex before.” He tried to ask it as offhand as possible, though the blond couldn't deny there was a thrill to the notion of being the first to take Bakura's ass. And such a gorgeous ass too from what he could see. The paler shook his head though, or rather, he shook his head and arms as he was still tangled up and not fighting too hard for release now that Malik was stretching and coating him so masterfully that Bakura actually sighed blissfully while his knees trembled at the treatment. The answer was fine too though, because even if Malik wasn't the first to claim the pale body, he knew at least that he was one of the very few, and that was just as good since obviously Bakura wasn't seen this vulnerable very often.
 
“Ah! Ngh!” A string of jargon left the paler's lips as mahogany eyes shot open, Bakura's body suddenly convulsing and thrusting his hips up blindly with a throaty moan that could have escaped as a whimper had he not parted his lips widely.
 
The blond grinned evilly.
 
Noting that his knuckles were practically adhered to the pale flesh of Bakura's rump, Malik wriggled them just a little harder before he was rewarded with another strangled noise and physical contortion from the pale body after striking the sensitized nerves again.
 
“Guess that's my cue.” Withdrawing his fingers, and ignoring Bakura's muffled whine at the emptiness, the blond brushed what remained of the lotion over his own arousal, purring at the self touch nearly drunkenly before crawling close to the other male. “Ready?” Not that it mattered really, because Malik was sure he couldn't have stopped his penis from just diving, headfirst no less, on its own even if the pale man beneath him had cried. There was nothing to worry about though as Bakura groaned quite audibly and did his best to thrust himself onto the pleasurably heated flesh currently brushing and rimming his entrance.
 
He didn't have to wait too long, quite thankfully.
 
Malik had taken the blatant hint, firmly held onto the paler's hips once Bakura's legs were readjusted, and moaned for both of them as he buried himself within the breathless body of his partner. Only able to gasp at the sudden, although wholly fantastic, intrusion, Bakura busied himself with gathering a mouthful of air before he passed out while the blond hindered such a plan by pulling out nearly completely and crashing deeply within again. Whether the paler male shrieked or not from such a tactic was up for debate, later debate at that since both males found their mounting pleasure much too important to ignore. With every one of Malik's planned thrusts came a grunt and rush of ecstasy from him or Bakura, the raw noise of sex unmistakable as the moment drew on and enveloped them both.
 
Sweat and spit mingled shamelessly when open-mouthed kisses were presented on any patch of skin Malik could reach over the expanse of Bakura's trembling body. He could feel the long, pale legs of his partner as they shifted and wrapped around his waist, tightening every time Malik would enter the wanton form, nearly constricting in force when the blond would grasp Bakura's shoulders and thrust himself all the harder within and against him. It became more difficult to breathe as the air in the immediate area warmed and refused to dissipate, more so for Bakura as he was forced to sip air through the shirt that had yet to be removed. This fact was maddening for several reasons, the most prominent being that the urge to dive his hands through Malik's hair and force the younger into a starved kiss was barred. His fingers itched with the need to touch the tanned body providing him so much pleasure, and all he could do to alleviate the desire flooding him was buck and moan as loudly as he could to fool his senses into believing he was wholly satisfied.
 
Well, physically he was. Bakura couldn't imagine having wanted anything more than what he was being given. The sensation of being filled repeatedly by someone he could honestly say he had craved within the first instant they had met was mind-boggling. Malik was gorgeous despite the younger's slight feminism, which was what heightened the blonde's beauty really, and those exotically colored eyes and incredible body were definitely a part of it too. Bakura's mind wasn't allowed to wander too long as another tremble racked his body and caused his vocal cords to jerk to life, more so when the blond leaned over his body and began to nibble on a pale neck while fingers caressed the twitching member now trapped between them. Their breathing was erratic and broke into pants, the wash of heat at his neck driving Bakura mad as the younger had turned his attention to moaning and nipping at his throat while awkwardly continuing to drive into him.
 
“Ah… Mngh!…”
 
Somehow Malik managed to comprehend that and smiled lazily, shushing the paler and enclosing the length he stroked more firmly until the distinct sound of Bakura keening began to fill the room. From base to head he drew out the impending moment until the pale body began to struggle lividly in search for release, Malik kissing over the pale chest in assurance before groaning as the rings of flesh surrounding him began to clench rapidly, the blond shivering and jerking into the heated body harshly as his climax was taken from him prematurely. Not that he minded since all the sexual tension he'd been withholding since he'd met the paler male was finally being released, and being that it was within Bakura while the white-haired one was thrashing about on the brink of his own orgasm certainly made the moment all the more arousing and satisfying.
 
Collapsing onto the pale expanse of flesh beneath him, Malik tried to catch his breath as the spasms clung to his body even once he had ceased filling Bakura with his release. The blond was satiated but quite aware of his partner's remaining need, and being the understanding person that he was, Malik found strength amongst his exhaustion to snuggle tightly against the paler body and continue to stroke the pulsing organ on hand, to which Bakura was utterly grateful for as he was too far gone to manage to finish himself off even if he had the opportunity. Bucking into the convenient tunnel Malik's hand provided, Bakura's keen broke into a throated cry as his muscles finally coiled too tightly and offered him the gracious feeling of euphoria once his length began to spill over the blonde's hand and between their bodies.
 
It took several dragged moments before either was capable of moving again. The seed smeared over their abdomens now uncomfortably sticky and chilled, a true motivator for Malik to slip free from the pale man to retrieve a warm and dampened towel. Giggling despite himself, the younger cleaned them both as he wondered how Bakura had managed to keep from tearing free from his shirt throughout their encounter. Tossing aside the towel once he had even gently wiped along Bakura's inner thighs, Malik reached up and kindly worked the by now heavily tangled shirt from pale arms, careful not to tug Bakura's hair as he continued and finally set the paler loose, grinning down at a disgruntled, although very post-sex glazed, expression.
 
“Well, guess you're okay with bondage then.” Malik winked and curled up against his, well… he supposed `lover' would be the best term at the moment.
 
And even if Bakura wrinkled his nose to that comment, he felt far too good to counter the claim rudely, besides… he had enjoyed the overall experience. “Next time, I undress first.” He offered a smirk to the younger's laughter, twisting enough so he could clasp his arms and hands around the tanned body he had been craving, Bakura whispering his lips over Malik's own and purring smugly. “So… you going to offer me some coffee?”
 
“Sure, soon as the alarm goes off-”
 
“Housekeeping!”
 
Lavender and mahogany eyes widened in identical expressions of utter shock, was it really that late- oh yes… the sun was up and shining through drawn curtains already. Both males yelped and tried to use the other as a means to cover themselves when the door opened, needless to say they were forced to use pillows and sheepish grins, the latter of which quickly melted away from Bakura's face when he noted who the `maid' was.
 
“Ah, so you did manage to find him. Well done, Malik.”
 
“Mariku?! What the -fuck- are you doing here?”
 
The wild-haired blond grinned and leaned against the doorframe casually, smirk carved masterfully over his lips as he answered quite coolly. “What? I'm checking up on my cousin, of course. Malik's visiting; I told him I had a drunken friend who he may find appetizing while here, and viola. I just wanted to see whether or not he had managed to run you down, and by the looks of it…”
 
“Shut up, Mariku.” The younger blond spoke up finally and stuck his tongue out, nestling at Bakura's side happily while keeping his pillow in place. “And I think I may consider sticking around for more than just a visit now…” At that Bakura had to perk up, the kiss at his jaw helping matters as he managed to dissipate his annoyance for his best friend and grin at the younger blond, who giggled back softly and cocked his head at his amused looking cousin. “Mm, anyway. What are you doing here so early? I said Noon you could come by.”
 
At that Mariku seemed reluctant to answer, the violet-eyed blond straightening and running fingers through the spiked array of his hair. “Ah… Just figured I should check in-”
 
“'Riku, did you find our room?” A pair of arms were suddenly slung around the blonde's neck, Mariku trying to fight off the flush that rose as Bakura began snickering and nodding knowingly at the familiar face, which blinked widely in surprise at seeing the obviously naked pair in bed. “Oh, excuse us… Um, Bakura, is it?”
 
“Yeah. And this is Malik, Malik… that's Yami.”
 
“Oh, I know all about Yami… My cousin just -loves- to talk on the phone.”
 
“Ngh… Wrong floor. See you guys later…” Mariku grunted and tugged Yami from the room, shutting the door just as laughter threatened to burst free from the two in bed, who as far as he knew, still had about three hours before the real maid came by.
 
And it didn't take nosing around to know Bakura and Malik would be utilizing their time wisely.
 
~*~*~*~*~