Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Troll Smut ❯ 3: The Second Coming. ( Chapter 3 )

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

The Ring fell to the floor with a muffled tinkle as both boys lost their balance and toppled. Katsuya landed rather safely on the couch, but Hiroto missed it and took a nasty fall. Neither moved for a moment.

Finally getting his mouth to work, Katsuya summed things up nicely. "Fuck."

(Ryou was now looking up at the two boys. Apparently, his Yami had vested enough power in the false ring for it to give them a vantage point, even without one or both of the boys touching it. Y!Bakura waggled a finger in his general direction. "Of course. Now the extra fun part begins. Watch the friendship crack and die." He giggled. "What a precious, fragile, worthless thing it is."

Unable to think of anything to say, Ryou watched in silence, feeling like a mouse watching the two giant boys. No, more like a rat.)

The expletive somehow allowing him to move, Hiroto gave a curse of his own and slammed a fist to the carpet. "I'm gonna kill Bakura. Eevil or not, with or without the ring, I don't care. I'll tear him apart." Looking up, Hiroto saw fear in Katsuya's eyes. Fear and anger. He assumed he probably looked much like his friend did. Was he shaking, as well? Pulling himself to his feet, he sat on the other end of the couch. Both boys were leaning away from each other. Contact made it real.

Katsuya balled his hands on his lap. He glared down at them, and finally got them to stop trembling. It felt like the less he shook outside, the more jangled he got inside. He worked his throat for long moments, and finally was able to speak. "What... What are we going to do?" He didn't look at Hiroto.

Hiroto blinked at his friend. He'd never seen Katsuya like this. Not when Kaiba or Otogi had humiliated him, not when his Red Eyes had been stolen, not even when they had thought Yuugi was lost in the Shadow Games. He wanted to say something, do something to make everything better; though for Katsuya or himself he didn't know. But there was nothing to say. Angry again, he let out a wordless cry of frustration, burying his head in his hands. "I don't know." His voice was trembling, and he hated himself for it. "What is there TO do? We kill Bakura, melt that stupid ring to nothing, burn down 2I -"

He glanced from his ranting to see Katsuya blinking at him, his eyes partially glazed. Hiroto knew the other boy was trying desperately to fall into his mind and just not think. He was trying to do the same. But neither boy's personality would allow such weakness.

Softly, very softly. "It won't help. It won't go away."

Hiroto could think of nothing to say. He reached out a comforting hand, but the moment they brushed Katsuya's jacket, the other boy flinched, blinking furiously.

This made Hiroto angry. "Look, I'm not-"

"You're not?" Katsuya was gripped in a panic he couldn't control. "But you WERE. And you, you..."

"It WASN'T me!" Hiroto growled. "It was Bakura. He, ugh, that sick bastard." His voice softened, placating. "Jounouchi, I would never, not like that. I- I'm sorry." His voice cracking on the last word, he felt himself falling into the same dark place Jounouchi was. "I didn't mean..."

Rubbing his eyes fiercely on his sleeve, Katsuya glared hard at Hiroto, his pupils dilated but gaze seemingly clear. His voice was filled with both pleading and denial. "I can FEEL it, Honda. I can f-fucking feel it RIGHT NOW." He looked at his hand, unclenched it slowly, than flexed it. His face was pulled into a half-sob that looked almost like a grin. "I was fucking huge, Honda. And I was h-hairy, and I.. I" He broke down, then, unable to articulate anything but moans through his crying.

"Jou-Jounouchi..." Honda's throat was tight, his own resolve cracking at the truth of Katsuya's words. "We, we don't have to tell anyone. It doesn't have to be real, everything that... Oh god." The first tears leaking from Hiroto's eyes, mixed with Jounouchi's misery, seemed to uncork something inside him. He began to sob.

They held each other, then. Not as lovers, but as two young men, scared out of their wits and lost in the unknown, seeking solace in the arms of the only other who had known their ordeal. It was not a beautiful, artistic scene. It was messy, both boys sobbing until they choked, noses running and eyes puffed nearly closed. Their masculinity had never taught them how to cry gracefully. But its ignobility was by far compensated in the raw emotion shared by the two boys.


("They don't seem as if they hate each other. Just convinced that you're a horrible soul." Ryou didn't want to watch this. Somehow, seeing his friends cry seemed more invasive than watching them fuck.

("Ah, not yet, not yet." Bakura chuckled darkly, watching the two weeping boys and pacing about in excitement for what he anticipated. "When the trauma is finished, there is only one outcome: Hatred. For me, for us, who have given them pain. And each other, who shared it.

("Their most terrible, horrible secret, something they will no doubt keep from all but each other to death and beyond. Both see the other as the only weakness, the testament to his own failings."

(Watching his two friends weeping with such vehemence, Ryou couldn't keep his own voice from cracking, even in his mind, "Have you no empathy?"

(His Yami laughed in cruel glee. "Not a shred, my host. Not a shred.")

Slowly the sobs faded to silence, and the exhausted boys sat, Katsuya halfways onto Hiroto's lap. The silence was broken only by a sharp sniffle from one or the other of the boys. Once, Katsuya yawned, his jaw shuddering. He whimpered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and taking comfort in Hiroto's shirt, intentionally not thinking.

Hiroto squeezed Katsuya's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. When the response was only a return of pressure in the arms around his chest, Hiroto pondered. His mind was fuzzy from his first real cry in years, and he still felt an abject horror at his own body for what had happened. But he knew he liked this warmth in his arms.

Very softly, Katsuya asked, "What happens now?"

Hiroto brushed Katsuya's hair with his hand. "We'll think of something."

Something in Hiroto's tone made Jounouchi look up. His face was very close to Hiroto's, and there was a look in his eye Jounouchi found faintly familiar. Acting on impulse, Hiroto pressed his lips to Katsuya's forehead, and then his lips. Katsuya twitched, but did not pull away, and after a moment returned the pressure.

(Bakura was watching his Yami watch the two boys. The spirit was slack-jawed, and Bakura thought he saw a slight twitch in his face. "This is NOT part of the plan."

Bakura smothered a laugh, but his soundless humour echoed throughout his mind.)

Leaning further into the kiss, Hiroto pushed Katsuya down, pressing him into the couch. Katsuya's neck arched as he fought the weight of the other boy. Hiroto made a bit of a moan, biting the other boy's lip, and Katsuya obliged wordlessly, leaning back, his neck still straining upwards even as his head pressed to cushions.

Hiroto was just relaxing enough to remove his hands from their grip on Katsuya's shoulders, when the blond grumbled, wiggling out from the embrace, breaking contact. Hiroto blinked, pulling away and not yet ready to comprehend rejection.

With a muttered curse, Katsuya scratched the back of his neck furiously. Blinking, both boys looked at where they had been laying.

The couch was littered with little bits of crisps. Crumbs just the right size to wiggle under shirts and iritate. Katsuya cursed again, wiping at the couch furiously, but Hiroto, after registering the reason for the other boys' abrupt attention switch, began to laugh. "I told you you were fucking messy."

"Shut up." Only now did Hiroto notice the crimson blush on Katsuya's cheeks, despite keeping his head down to hide his face. Still chuckling, but again unsure, Hiroto leaned over, pressing against Katsuya's side as he helped clean off the cushion.

The phone rang, as if intentionally interrupting their breach of status quo. Sighing, Hiroto leaned back, grabbing the phone with one hand as he scratched the back of his head with the other.

"Oi."

"I wish you'd be more polite when you answer the phone. What would your father's co-workers think?"

"Aw mum, I knew it was you." He hadn't, but he knew it was the only answer his mother would take at face value.

The woman on the other end of the line made the little motherly sigh, as all mothers are wont to do when they think their sons and daughters are really that considerate. It was a sigh of accepted delusion. "That's sweet, Hiroto-kun." There was muffled conversation as his mother covered the phone for a moment. The she was back. "Your father and I are at dinner with the Tezukas. You remember their little boy, Haru? He should be about your age now..."

"Yeah, sure, I know him." Hiroto had no idea who the woman was talking about.

"Anyways, after we're done here, your father wants to go back to the office for a bit, and Izumi-san invited me to her house for a new manicure set she bought and- Well, anyways, we'll both be home late, if at all tonight, honey. Are you all right?" [Obvious ploy to give them time alone. Mebbe reconsider. You could say something earlier about them not coming back.]

"Sure! Fine mum, I'm fine. Jounouchi's over here-" Hiroto faltered. Katsuya visiting was a near-daily thing in his life, but it suddenly seemed taboo. "Is it alright is he stays the night?"

"Don't you boys have school?"

"Oh yeah! But we're, uh, we're partnered for something, and it's due tomorrow, so we really should get it done."

His mother made a pondering sort of noise, then consented. "I guess it's alright. Katsuya's such a nice boy lately, not like before. Well, there's some instant soba in the cupboard if you boys get hungry, and I bought some ramune soda for you, it's in the fridge, so-"

"Yeah mom, we'll be fine! Look, we, uh, we should probably get to work, so, er..." Katsuya, having become bored with waiting, had nervously placed his hand on Hiroto's knee. Then, growing more bold at Hiroto's flustering, he ran his hand up and down the boy's thigh, grinning at the stutter. "So, yeah, love you mum. See you tomorrow."

With a growl, Hiroto dropped the phone and surged up, flipping Katsuya onto his back and pressing his lips against the smaller boy, who returned the favour, then pulled away, searching Hiroto's eyes. "What's the verdict?"

"We've got the house to ourselves, and you can stay the night."

"Is that such a good idea?"

Hiroto paused, leaning up a bit as he considered. "I don't know. We've done it before, but things are...different, I guess. If you don't want to, I mean, maybe we shouldn't-"

He was cut off as Katsuya initiated the kiss this time. Both sitting up, Katsuya wrapped his arms around Hiroto, tangling his hand in the small hairs at the the nape of Honda's neck. Opening his mouth for a gasp of air, Katsuya was shocked as Hiroto's tongue entered his mouth. Shocked like lighting. It was electric. Unsure, but not wanting his inexperience found out so early, he returned the favour in kind, his own tongue feeling sluggish and clumsy even as he quickly began to forget about experience and lost himself in the feelings. Relaxing totally, he allowed Hiroto to push him down without resistance.

(Unable to contain himself any longer, Ryou burst out laughing. It was priceless. His Yami glared up at him and waved a hand. Neither Hiroto nor Katsuya noticed the Ring disintegrate into dust, and neither would have probably cared if they had. They were otherwise occupied, after all.

("Stop it." Y!Bakura ordered, pacing the mindchamber and seething at his host. "It's not funny."

("On the contrary, it's hilarious. If ever there was irony in this world. Your delicately crafted plot has failed."

(With a wordless growl of anger, like a child who had bought a brand new toy only to find batteries weren't included, his Yami stalked off into the shadows, leaving Ryou feeling truly alone in the first time since he'd placed the Ring around his neck. He savoured it and leaned backwards. With a final thrill of glee at plans quashed, he drifted to sleep.)

Hiroto felt the shortness of breath, somewhere in the back of his mind, and he broke the kiss, to catch a breath and rub his face against the blonde. Katsuya was like putty in his hand. To be honest, Hiroto wasn't feeling much better. Though he'd never considered it before, having Katsuya felt so right that he couldn't understand how he'd not grabbed the boy and pressed himself against him before now. He felt the edge of something familiarly alien awaken inside him, and he gave it reign, catching Katsuya's lips again and getting lost in the sensations.

Both boys came back to themselves as, with a WHUMP, they found themselves on the floor. Hiroto's legs were still on the couch, and Katsuya looked as if he'd had a painful landing.

"Ouch.. Fuck, Honda. You pushed me off the couch."

Trying unsuccessfully to lever himself up as Katsuya tried simultaneously to wrangle out from underneath him, Hiroto pulled a face at his friend. "Not on purpose, I guess I just sort of.. forgot where we were."

"Yeah." Licking his lips, remembering the ethereal wood, Jounouchi nodded. "So did I."

Hiroto caught Katsuya's wavering eyes in his chocolate gaze. "Did you like it?"

"I.. yeah. Yeah." The latter pronounced with more bravado if not surety, Jounouchi nodded fervently, then rubbed his side. "Though that last part sucked.

"Do you wanna, well," With a softer thump, Hiroto pulled his legs off the couch and got them under him, and stood. He held out a hand to the blond, still working his mouth around the words he was trying to say. "D'you wanna go to the room, then?"

Knowing full well what it meant to take the proffered hand, Katsuya though for long moments, moments that seemed even longer for Hiroto. As he was about to snatch his hand away and say something blithe, Katsuya took it and pulled himself to his feet. Both boys' hands were cold, clammy, and shaking, but neither noticed the other, too nervous with fear and anticipation for what they knew would happen tonight.

Hiroto slid the door to his bedroom open, flicking the lightswitch and kicking clothes out of the way as he went. His house was modern but built to emulate the ancient design. The walls were thick plaster, painted an off-white, and the floor was a mosaic of rushstraw tamami mats, each bordered in a deep blue trim. Grabbing the thick, blue-and-green patterned quilts from a wallcloset, he lay the blankets next to each other, instead of on opposite walls as per usual. Katsuya stood looking awkward, not sure what to do or say. Hiroto glanced up at him as he straightened the blankets, then stood, striding past the shorter boy.

Hiroto closed the door and flicked the switch again, casting the room into darkness. Katsuya barely contained a yelp of surprise, and stood there shaking until he heard a bump, a curse, and the lamp flicked on, lending the room a soft glow in all but the tokoma and farthest corners. Looking out the window, Katsuya felt the same soft pang of jealousy he always did when he stayed at Hiroto's. He didn't covet the other boy's things, but rather wanted to share them. With a shock, he realized he was about to. At the same time he felt an electric touch at the small of his back, and then arms encircled him. Hiroto rumbled behind Katsuya, nipping his ear.

"Is it really okay?" Katsuya asked, leaning backwards and running his hand down Hiroto's forearm.

Hiroto murmured, resting his chin in the hollow of Katsuya's neck. "Only if you're alright with it." He kissed Katsuya's collarbone, and slowly pulled the green blazer from his shoulders.

Katsuya turned, and they were in each other's arms, pressed so close Hiroto felt a blaze of fire all down the length of him. He reached his hand up under Katsuya's shirt, feeling the flesh of him, the slight bumps of his ribs, the hollow of his shoulderblade. Katsuya tugged at Hiroto's shirt, untucking it blindly as he kissed Hiroto's face.

Hiroto reluctantly broke the contact. He tugged Katsuya's shirt, pulling it over his head when Katsuya finally relinquished his contact with Hiroto's hips. Dropping the shirt unceremoniously to the floor, he did the same with his own.

Letting out a soft gasp at the sudden air on his skin, Katsuya watched Hiroto. He had seen the other boy shirtless, hell, he'd even seen him naked numerous times. But this was different. Hiroto was tall, but muscular. Every bit of him was lithe and corded, and beautiful. Hiroto was... pointy. Resisting the urge to grin at his own mental picture, Katsuya just watched Hiroto watching him.

It was Katsuya's turn to initiate contact, as much as he wanted to be swept away by his best friend. Hiroto stood, unsure of what to do with his hands, his eyes never leaving Katsuya, though they trailed momentarily up and down the blond. Katsuya, feeling a thrill at being studied, put his hands back on Hiroto's sides. The hot flesh tingled under his fingers, and he kissed Hiroto fiercely. Moaning with relief and passion, Hiroto snaked his arms around Jounouchi.

They were on the sheets now, though neither boy could remember just how they had gone horizontal. Katsuya was on the top, part of his mind self-conscious at crushing the boy beneath him while the rest was busy kissing him. Eyes closed, they explored each other's faces, kissing everything their lips came in contact with.

Katsuya had slipped his hand into Hiroto's pants, resting his hand on his hipbone, his other arm supporting him as he explored Hiroto's jaw and collarbone. Hiroto craned his neck, breath shortening while he gave Katsuya's ear some much desired attention. His hands were alternately rubbing Katsuya's back, or making trails up and down his spine. Barely touching Katsuya's flesh, Hiroto made his brain tingle with the sensation.

Katsuya pulled back, catching his breath and his bearings for a moment. Hiroto watched him, saying nothing but smiling in his ineffable way. He held Katsuya's chest, rubbing his thumbs lightly over his nipples. Already pert, they became hard as pebbles under his ministrations.

Squirming lightly from the sensation, Katsuya chuckled. "I'm not a girl, you know..."

Honda quirked a brow, glancing demurely at Katsuya's trousers, "I didn't think so." He grinned, rubbing a but hard for a second, "Just doing everything I want to do to Shizuka-san."

Growling half in jest, Katsuya bit Hiroto's neck, kneading his thigh with a thumb. Two could play at this game, after all. Licking the hollow of Hiroto's neck and eliciting the sought-after moan, Jounouchi moved to Hiroto's chest. The brunette had returned his attentions to Katsuya's back. His hands played at the waist of his jeans, tickling just under the band.

The course hair on Hiroto's chest ticked Jounouchi's nose, but dutifully he searched. He could barely see anything in the dark of the room, but he felt the nubbin he was looking for and licked it. Hiroto's hands froze.

Grinning, Katsuya took the nipple very lightly in his teeth, tugging it as he squeezed Hiroto's hip. A sharp intake of breath above him told him what he wanted to know, and he continued for a moment, than moved to the other nipple. His hand caressed the already hardened nipple as his did so. Recovering himself slightly, Hiroto kissed the top of Katsuya's head, than leaned back and enjoyed himself. His hands teased Jounouchi's arse, though lightly. Grunting at the constricted movement of the jean, Hiroto played his hands down the waistband. Katsuya, forced to pull back with Hiroto's arms in the way, half froze as he felt the boy tugging at his fly.

Blindly Hiroto unzipped Katsuya's jeans, tugging them down as far as his restricted mobility would allow. Getting the hint, Katsuya tugged them and his briefs down to his knees, unwilling just yet to give up his position atop the pointed one. Hiroto took he moment to unclasp his own slacks, though he didn't remove them. The slight slackening of pleasure was a relief.

Katsuya was perched on him, with no pants, grinning like a maniac. Hesitantly, Hiroto reached out, barely brushing the shaft. Amusement gone, Katsuya hissed, pulling back instinctively. Chuckling, Hiroto leaned forward, pushing Katsuya to his back and pulling his trousers off the rest of the way. They joined his jacket and shirt somewhere in one of the lonely unlusty corners.

Katsuya moaned into Hiroto's mouth, biting his lip and pushing his chest as he pulled away. He glared at the confused look. "It's not fair for only me to be bare-ass naked, you know."

Hiroto laughed, slipping his pants off and tossing them away. Kissing Katsuya, he was again pushed away. At another look from Katsuya, he took off his boxers as well.

They were both wearing their socks. This is only important if you've ever had sex with your socks on.

They spent a few long, leisurely moments exploring each other's bodies. Kissing, nibbling, and licking, Katsuya felt his insides tremble and tighten, and forced himself mentally to relax. He didn't want it to end, ever. Warmth and cold danced over his body maddeningly, as spit dried and flesh pressed against him.

Hiroto was kissing the taut, pale belly of the other boy. With his nose and lips, he followed the line of soft hair's that started below the belly button. The urge to surprise Katsuya won out over humour, and he kept the "treasure trail" comment to himself. After a split-second hesitation of question if he really wanted -that- in his mouth, he took Katsuya in, and was rewarded with another sharp hiss.

Katsuya, though half-expecting something, wasn't prepared for the blast of sensation he got when Hiroto took him in. Warmth, wetness, and pleasure burned through him, his manhood jerking involuntarily. Moaning, teeth clenched, he leaned his head back, lost.

Hiroto was also lost in his own sense, but curiosity was winning over lust for the moment. He knew what he liked, and at that moment wanted nothing more than to see how far he could take it. Licking lightly at the slit of Katsuya's manhood, he took the boy's shuddering as a good sign. It wasn't nearly so terrible as he'd thought, just another thing to explore. Dragging his teeth lightly over the head, he took the nub into his mouth, rolling his lips around the shaft, shifting the skin and comparing it to an elbow in his mind's eye.

Katsuya hissed again, bunching his fists and shutting his eyes tight as he fell into oblivion.

Hiroto registered the spasm a split-second too late, and choked at the come in his windpipe. Pulling back to cough, he got some on his face as well, and cursed Katsuya, who was too busy seeing stars to pay attention. Katsuya's manhood, quickly going soft, twitched now and again as it sank.

Coming back to himself, Katsuya saw Hiroto coughing and wiping his mouth on the corner of the quilt. Seeing the blond looking at him, Hiroto glared. "You bastard. Warn me next time you're going to do that."

Half-ashamed but still caught up in his moment, Jounouchi glared back. "Aren't you supposed to swallow it?"

Hiroto pulled a face. "Hell no. Well, not today at least. He rubbed his tongue on the blanket and pulled another face. "Swallow, maybe, but that almost killed me."

Unable to help himself, Jounouchi laughed, leaning back again and enjoying the quiet shocks he was still getting. Hiroto was running his fingers up Jounouchi's thighs, but he barely paid any attention.

He did pay attention, however, when Hiroto kissed him, his hands tangling in the hairs at the base of Jounouchi's manhood. For long minutes, Hiroto kissed Jounouchi, massaged his thighs, coaxed his manhood from it's flaccidity. Katsuya was struck with the realization that Hiroto had not had any release, and began paying more attention, allowed himself to get worked up again. He began returning the kisses more fervently, and Hiroto responded with a happy, unintelligible murmur.

When Katsuya was teetering close to the brink again, Hiroto broke the contact and leaned far sideways, scrounging for something in the wall closet. Katsuya closed his eyes and listened, smirking at the curses Hiroto made.

With a soft "a-hah!" Hiroto leaned back, straddling Jounouchi's thighs. He had a small bottle in one hand and a foil package in his mouth.

Katsuya couldn't help but laugh. "You're prepared, man. But what the fuck IS that stuff?" he pointed with his chin at the bottle, squinting at the decorated Kanji in the dark. "Lovelove oil?"

Hiroto waggled the bottle, but Katsuya could just see the blush on his face. "You know, for Shizuka. Or maybe Anzu. Or both." He waggled his eyebrows.

Katsuya smacked his thigh, laughing. "You little kink!" but he couldn't quite hide the tremble in his voice. This was really going to happen.

Lapsing into silence, Hiroto bent to his work. Katsuya heard the rip of foil and the chemical rubber smell pervaded his noise. He leaned back and breathed it deeply. It wasn't a nice smell, but it foreshadowed what was coming. A thought struck him, and he looked up. Hiroto was dribbling some of the oil into the condom, and was putting it on in an entirely too practiced way. "Do we really need those? You don't have AIDS or anything." This last half a question.

"Don't you read the pamphlets?" Hiroto's voice was incredulous.

At Katsuya's blank look, he sighed and grinned. "Maybe I just don't want your shit on my cock."

Katsuya's eyes had widened, but before that train of thought had gotten too far, Hiroto had finished he business and leaned over, turning the bottle upside-down and into his hands. He squirted a bit on Katsuya's stomach and chest, just for good measure.

Leaning forward, Hiroto began rubbing Katsuya's thighs, eliciting a moan. Katsuya spread his legs, urging Hiroto closer to his manhood.

Trailing a nail delicately over Katsuya's balls, Hiroto moved to his real target. He had a breif moment of fear. The pamphlets always told you what not to do, but they were vague on the actual acts themselves. Figuring he would wing it, and reluctantly calling upon the memory of his only experience, he rubbed and massaged the puckered opening he found, which tightened briefly under his ministrations.

Feeling some new, entirely alien sensation, Katsuya trembled. It was electric, feeling someone touching his most taboo place. Breathing, accepting the screaming feelings his body was barraging him with, he forced himself to relax. He wanted this.

At the feeling of something else on his entrance, he tightened against his will. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. Imagery began floating through his mind, and despite himself he remembered the feeling of blood trickling down his leg, of being dominated, of nothing but pain and hurting.

Noticing Katsuya tremble beneath him, Hiroto groaned inwardly, but took his hand from his throbbing erection. He leaned back, rubbing the blond's legs and placing them around his waist. He massaged first the boy's feet through his socks, than worked his way upward. Slowly, Katsuya's trembling ceased, and he began to return the affections. When, rubbing his chest, Hiroto leaned forward to kiss him, their erections touched, and both boys paused in pleasure.

Still tingling from Hiroto's attentions, Katsuya felt a second time the alien thing probing at his entrance. But he was ready and willing this time, relaxed and wanting. He put his hands on Hiroto's shoulders, squeezing them lightly. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be penetrated, tensing only once but relaxing when Hiroto coaxed his erection back to glory.

There was no other way to describe it than "full." Part of him wanted to push this invading presence, coming in instead of out of him. But than, as Hiroto relaxed his hips, he touched something inside of Katsuya that made him blind for a moment. Leaning ever forwards, Hiroto took Katsuya's hands from his shoulders, clasping them in his and pressing them to the floor, his hips rocking slowly, unsteadily.

Katsuya strained his neck upwards, kissing Hiroto clumsily as he near squirmed with pleasure at the alien feelings. At that moment, he felt more connected to the world than ever before. This glorious thing, it was what it meant to be alive.

Unbidden, his memory fed him images of the other end of this beauty. What it was like to be taken without offering. Horrible as it was, in the throes of this simple, natural magic, Katsuya was unafraid, and the imagery ceased.

Hiroto groaned, his back arching as his hips began to rock more forcefully. Katsuya pulled a hand free from its prison, and began stroking his own manhood, Hiroto's pleasure coupled with his own sensations driving him wild. He felt a twitch at his opening, and Hiroto shuddered, slamming unevenly as he spasmed.

It was rapture.

Hiroto pulled back and fell beside his friend, mouth hanging open and eyelids flittering while his world was grey. Katsuya rubbed his own manhood, bringing himself over the brink in a matter of moments.

They both lay, enjoying the aftershocks and the soft smell of their sins. Feeling something invasive, Katsuya pulled the offender from his entrance, pulling a face at it momentarily before hiding it under the sleeping Hiroto's slacks. He wiped his hand and stomach and the slacks for good measure, and rolled over, drifting to sleep in tired bliss.

A noise in the night woke Katsuya. The soft shuffles and clicks of someone returning. Mutters as Mr, Honda made his way up the stairs, and into his bedroom. A sigh at the empty bed, thumps and splashes of preperation, and finally the futon's creak of welcome for the tired businessman.

Katsuya blinked blearily, gathering his surroundings. Turning over, he saw Hiroto, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. A gleaming trail of wetness ran down the side of his face and into his ear, pooling there. Hiroto was silent, and didn't move, but that in itself belied just how much he hurt. Wordlessly, afraid to break the spell, Katsuya reached over, trailing his fingers over Hiroto's arm. Hiroto jumped, glancing over. Then he turned, pulling his arm away to support his head. He had the ghost of a smile on his face as he watched Katsuya, but the tears didn't cease.

Finally, Hiroto broke the silence. "What are we going to do?"

Long into the night, the two boys talked. When it came time for them to finally breach the topic they were both afraid of, it came in halting confessions and choked phrases. Eventually, the two drifted into silence, than sleep. They were comforted both in the arms around them and the weight lifted off their chests.
~

"There's something different today..." Yuugi felt the voice in the back of his mind. He half turned, glancing a shade of his Yami trailing him through the hall.

"You feel it too?" He smiled, looking ahead now at Hiroto and Katsuya. "I'm not sure what's happened, but it's good." There was something there between the two boys, a feeling, a *sparkle*. Not that it had been lacking before, but it had grown, been realized.

He felt the Pharoah's emotion through the link, pride in his host's growing awareness, but also shaded with unease. "They seem happy now, but there's a darkness there, as well."

"Whatever it is, they'll tell us soon." It didn't take Egyptian magic to see that Katsuya was near-bursting with news. "And if they don't it's their business."

His Yami assented. "Whatever it was, it seems they've overcome it. Now come on, class will start soon." Yuugi felt the presence retreat to barely more than a glimmer of awareness. Always watching, his protector. Adjusting his hold on his knapsack, Yuugi went to class.

Back in his "window room," Ryou was still in a good mood. His Yami was still upset over his backfired plans, and was having trouble keeping up the "lovable fluff-head" facade. Ryou allowed himself a moment of regret, that his Yami had been in control so long his friends had a jaded and extreme veiw of his personality. Only a moment, though, as he couldn't allow himself to lose hope. And besides, it was such a good day.

"Your overwhelming cheer is giving me a headache," his Yami growled. In response, Bakura whistled a merry little tune.

It was a testament to Katsuya's resolve that he didn't blurt it all out the second he saw Yuugi that morning. It was a testament to Hiroto's patience that he kept Katsuya reigned in, punching him in the arm whenever the boy opened his mouth to ruin the surprise. It was a testament to Yami Bakura's control that he didn't kill someone. Two someones, to be precise.

The group sat comfortably in Yuugi's living room. Mrs. Mutou puttered around the kitchen, while his Grandfather was still busy in the shop. There were a few hours left until closing, after all. Hiroto had snatched the poofy laz-e-boy, Anzu was on one end of the couch, Bakura perched rather sulkily on the other end. Yuugi was sunk cross-legged into another of the fat recliners, making him seem even smaller than he was.

Currently, the group was caught in surprised silence. It took a few long moments for what Katsuya had said to sink in.

Yuugi was the first to speak, "That's great!"

Anzu nodded, "You two are perfect for each other. I always knew Honda-kun was after Jounouchi, I just didn't guess which one." She laughed a little self-consciously.

Bakura said nothing.

"Well, it was really Bakura's fault." Hiroto grinned, watching the silver-haired boy. His bravado didn't quite sneak past Katsuya, who touched his head briefly.

Anzu blinked, and Bakura barely bristled, "Me? What do you mean?" He blinked innocently, even as the real Bakura howled inside his mind.

Katsuya laughed, "Oh, you know, this and that. You're a big part of it, though."

There was another moment of silence, this time rather comfortable. Yuugi, who had been musing as to the reason for the change all day, silently conceeded to his bet with the Pharoah. It looked like he'd be wearing those leather pants on Sunday, after all.

Anzu made a disgruntled sort of noise, and all eyes turned to her. She blushed, "Shouldn't you two, well, be holding hands or something?"

They blinked. Katsuya deftly avoided the point as Hiroto leaned back to look at him. "Why would we do that?"

"Well," Anzu pulled a face, trying to word it correctly, "It's, like, I don't know. I always thought people held hands when they made confessions like this. You know... to be close."

Haltingly, Katsuya extended a hand, Hiroto took it, and immediately pulled away and wiped his hands on his trousers, "Euch, sweaty!"

Katsuya chuckled, and gave Anzu a grin, "Besides, I've had his cock in my ass, isn't that sharing?"

Yuugi fell off the chair.

Mrs. Moutou's head peeked into the room, taking in her son's lack of balance with nary a twitch, "Are your friends staying for dinner, Yuugi?"

Jounouchi was trying not to laugh, and Yuugi asked, "If it's alright." At his mum's nod, he asked, "What're we having?"

Already in the kitchen, she reached out and waggled a package at them from the doorway. "Beef Noodle."