Dark Roads

Disclaimer - Do I REALLY have to reinterate this? No, I don't own them. There, happy now?

Author's Notes - WOW! 13 reviews for one chapter . . . that's a new record for me. *glomphs everyone* Thanks guys! make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside . . . or maybe that's Bakura . . . *shrugs* anyway . . . a few review responses before I get on with this chapter.

Silvershadowfire - LOL. Yeah, I know it's different. Which reminds me . . . when ever are you going to grace us with another chapter of the story you have on FF.Net? I'm DIEING here!


Silver thorns - Plenty of lemons coming up in this one, trust me. Hope you like blood though : )

Chaos Dragon - Oh, you have no idea! *rubs hands gleefully*

Ralphiere - *glomphs* coming from you, that's quite a compliment!

kit-kit - just wait till we get deeper into it : )

Niffty24 - If you remember what story, please let me know. This is currently based off of RL events going on here, so I'd love to see the story, just to compare : )

Shy - *glomphs and cuddles* you know, you are just TOO CUTE! Isn't she folks? I hope you and Lei will continue to enjoy it as much as you did Dark Roses.

zehlyah - *bows deeply* thank you. I'm constantly amazed at myself for some of the shit I pull.

And last, but certainly not least, to Laran and Ladywolf_terri - *huge glomphs and huggles* Well, you two know where this shit is coming from, so to you the biggest thanks of all. Thank you for being there to support me and talk me through it, and for simply being friends. A girl can never have enough of those, and you two are the best I could ever ask for. One of these days we're all going to have to get together somewhere!


Chapter 2 – Walking the Line


Growling under his breath, Atemu worked on getting the stock room in order, keeping a careful eye on the clock as he did so. It was just going on three now . . . Yugi would be home soon, and he could turn the store over to his brother and go wherever the hell that address Bakura had given him was.

It irked him slightly that he had been called a rich boy . . . because that was one thing he definitely was not. It was a little known fact that he and Yugi actually owned the game shop they lived above and worked in . . . a gift from their aging grandfather in his will. That had been just a year ago last month. Before that, he had merely been careful with what money he had from working in the shop, plus taking the odd job here and there.

He supposed his penchant for leather might make him LOOK like he was rich. He couldn’t help it . . . he loved the feel of the material against his skin. So they cost something close to a hundred dollars a pair . . . no one ever really noticed that he only had two pairs of pants. They didn’t pay that much attention to his wardrobe after all . . . it wasn’t his clothes they was after. It was what was underneath them.

The bell to the shop door rang, letting him know that a customer had come in, and he quickly dusted off his hands against his jeans and stalked out of the backroom to attend to them.

“Hey Atemu,” Duke said, leaning against the counter. “How’s it going?” Atemu shrugged, taking a seat on the stool behind the counter, meeting the emerald eyes warily. While technically he considered the tall, black haired youth a friend, he was also a business rival, and that required careful consideration whenever they met up.

“It goes,” he murmured, and left it at that. Duke didn’t need details, and he certainly wasn’t going to give them out. “What brings you here?” he asked, and Duke smiled.

“Relax, Atemu, I’m not here to scope out the competition,” he murmured. “Actually, I came by to see you.” One crimson-tinted eyebrow rose slightly, and he chuckled. “I was sorry to hear about you and Kaiba,” he said, sobering. “I wanted to offer my sympathies.”

Atemu frowned, crossing his arms on the countertop and leaning upon them wearily. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that the news was out . . . Seto was famous after all, the only teenage business tycoon in the world. But still, it bothered him that his love life - or lack thereof, now – was such common knowledge. Finally, he shrugged.

“Shit happens,” he replied, making sure his voice was very carefully nonchalant. “He didn’t want to wait for me, and I couldn’t go before Yugi graduates. It just wasn’t meant to be.” He was startled when Duke reached over, running one finger over his arm in what was definitely an inviting caress.

“If you ever . . . you know, get lonely . . . you know where my apartment is,” Duke murmured, and the crimson eyes widened before shooting up to meet glittering emerald.

“But aren’t you and Tristan . . .” he began, and Duke shook his head slightly.

“Tristan knows I’ve always had a thing for you,” he said, a soft smile gracing his lips as he talked of his long-time lover and soon to be life partner. “He told me that, if you were willing, he wouldn’t mind sharing . . . as long as he got to watch.”

“Duke . . . I . . .” Atemu stammered, and stopped in surprise when the taller man leaned across the counter and kissed him lightly.

“You don’t have to say yes or no now,” the ebony haired youth murmured against his lips. “Just know that the offer is there for the taking.” The bell rang again and he leaned back, looking over his shoulder before smiling. “Hey Yugi! How’s your brother treating you?”

“Like a kid,” Yugi grumbled. “Just because I look like one doesn’t mean I am one.” Yami smiled at him indulgently, and he sighed before setting his book bag down by the counter and going to give his elder brother a hug. “How was the day?”

“Somewhat busy,” Yami answered vaguely before looking at Duke. The taller man shrugged, and gave him a meaningful wink.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he said. “Just remember what we talked about, Atemu, would you? I’ll be seeing you around.” Crimson and amethyst watched as he walked out the door, before Yugi turned back to his brother, curious.

“What was that about?” he asked, and Yami sighed, ruffling his younger brother’s hair slightly.

“Nothing much, Yugi,” he replied. “Duke just came to offer his condolences on my break up with Seto.” Yugi nodded.

“Yeah . . . it was all over school today, too. I’m sorry, Yami,” he said quietly, and Yami chuckled before leaving the counter to return to the storeroom.

“Nothing to be sorry about, little one,” he said. “It was Seto’s choice, and he made it. He’s happy with where his life is going now, and I suppose I have to live with that.” Yugi followed him, watching as he began to rearrange the shelves again, trying to get the maximum amount of space out of the tiny room.

“Yami . . . doesn’t it hurt at all?” he asked. “You seem so . . . calm about it all. I thought you really loved Seto.” Yami paused in what he was doing, putting the box he was holding down to turn around and look at his brother solemnly.

“Seto and I weren’t right for each other, Yugi,” he said after a moment. “What he wanted out of our relationship, and what I wanted, were two very different things. Yes, I loved him . . . but over the past year, since Grandfather’s death and that whole mess that we went through, I’ve come to realize I didn’t love him as much as I thought I did.”

Yugi nodded slightly, falling silent as his brother turned back to what he had been doing. He remembered the events of last year all too well . . . the nights of Yami crying silently in his room, the bleak despair that had wrapped around the older youth and nearly stifled him in it’s grasp.

Seto had broken it off with Yami then, too. He had said he needed some time alone, to be free and do the things he hadn’t had the chance to when he was younger. Yami had nodded, and accepted it . . . but only Yugi knew how much it had hurt his brother to do so. And when Seto had come back after Yami ended up in the hospital with pneumonia due to stress, he had thought his brother insane for taking the man back.

But as Yami had told him, he had to give it one last try. For his own well being, if not for Seto’s. And this is where it had led. Four months of what had appeared to be blissful happiness between the two . . . only for Seto to turn around and stomp on his brother’s heart again. But Yami had done his crying and mourning last year, and this time he seemed determined that he was going to get over it.

With a sigh, Yugi shook his head and left his brother to rearrange the stockroom while he attended to the store. At least this time he hadn’t lost his brother.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


The streets were eerily devoid of life as Yami made his way toward his ‘appointment’ with the Jackals. He’d thought about riding his motorcycle, but had decided against it until he knew just exactly what he was getting into.

He found he was looking forward to this, and pondered that thought, his hands stuffed into his leather jacket as he strolled down the deserted roads. Was it the promise of finally getting what he wanted? Or was there something more . . . some undefined need to step outside of the boundaries he’d lived within for most of his life?

He’d always been the ‘good boy’. Home on time every night, chores always done, never getting into trouble . . . he had been the quintessential upstanding citizen all his life. He was the guy that all the mother’s wanted their daughters to date, that all the old folks around town looked at and went ‘why can’t more kids be like him?’.

Looking back on it, he realized now how much he’d hated being stuffed into that box. He hadn’t even noticed how much he resented it until life had thrown him into reality headfirst, and made him wake up and think for himself. Was that why he’d wanted in to the most feared gang in Domino? A need to prove that he wasn’t that ‘good boy’ anymore?

He readily admitted to himself that he was concerned. If that was why he was doing this, than there would be problems down the road that would unavoidable. He’d backed himself into a corner, and left no way out. Once someone was a member of the Jackals, they were never out of the gang . . . unless they were dead. At least, that was what he had heard. But if he didn’t show up to the ‘appointment’ he had today, he would be branded a coward and a ‘good boy’ for the rest of his life. Neither option was really all that palatable.

One thought kept him moving toward his goal, however. Bakura. He’d been so riled up after that fight last night that he’d barely slept, and his body had tormented him until he’d finally resorted to manual labor of the sexual kind to relieve his tension. He knew that Bakura could give him what he needed . . . what he wanted.

So what if he didn’t know the other man well? Sex didn’t require knowing your partner on a mental and emotional level . . . it was all physical, and that was what he needed. He’d had enough of emotional for a while anyway. It only landed him into trouble.

Finally reaching his destination, he smirked up at the sign that pronounced that inside he would find ‘topless dancers’. So, the Jackals hang out was an old abandoned pervert bar . . . figured. Luckily Bakura had provided instructions on how to get into the building, so he quickly found his way around to the back and punched in the digital code he’d been given.

The door opened silently, yawning like a dark mouth ready to swallow him whole. He studied it for a moment, wondering if he was doing the right thing or if he’d finally gone off the deep end of sanity, and then shrugged. Did it really matter?

Stepping through the door, he stalked down the dark corridor of what he assumed was the backstage area, hearing sounds all around him from the various dressing rooms. He figured Bakura would probably be in the main area of the club, and made his way there, keeping an eye on his watch as he did so. He was about a minute early . . . good.

He stepped through the door at exactly five, and glanced around idly. It was surprisingly orderly . . . and large. The outside of the building was definitely deceptive.

“So, you had the guts to show after all, rich boy,” a voice snarled off to his right, and crimson eyes turned to meet violet steadily. “I figured you’d wimp out.”

“Shove it, Marik,” Bakura snarled, stepping out of the shadows behind the tall blonde. “I told you he’d be here. He’s not one to wimp out . . . and he asked for this.” He padded forward on surprisingly silent feet, a lithe predator in ragged blue jeans and a black shirt, stalking around Atemu silently before coming to stop in front of the man. “You have this one chance to back out, rich boy,” he growled, and crimson eyes narrowed slightly.

“I’m here, aren’t I, ‘Thief’?” he snapped back. “If I’d planned on backing out, I wouldn’t have come at all. As you said, I asked for this.” Bakura looked somewhat surprised by his answer, and the vehemence with which he spoke, but simply nodded before turning, gesturing for Atemu to follow him.

The tri-haired youth felt Marik fall into step silently behind him, and fought the urge to turn around and make sure that there wasn’t a knife in those slim, bronzed hands. His back was itching from having someone who obviously disliked him so close where he couldn’t see him, but he ignored it in favor of watching Bakura’s back . . . or rather, the pale man’s backside, which was rather enticing in the tight blue material.

Bakura led the way to the stage, silently contemplating what was about to take place. He’d gone to great lengths for this . . . not something he usually did when admitting a new member, but then Atemu had already spiked everyone’s interest by his outrageous request. No one ASKED to be admitted into the Jackals . . . they were recruited by him or Marik. This was a first . . . as was the ‘ceremony’ about to take place. But Atemu would need to prove himself before the others, especially since he was a ‘rich boy’, so Bakura had devised a way to make him do so and yet earn his standing in the ‘pack’ as it were.

Only two things about this would be standard . . . and he hoped Atemu was up to them. Somehow, he suspected he would be. Stepping up onto the stage, he quickly moved to the center, holding up his hands for silence as Atemu and Marik came up behind him.

“We’ve gathered tonight to admit a new member!” he shouted, and there were cheers and whistles until he called for silence again. “But first, this newcomer must prove himself to all of you. Who challenges his right to join us?” Not surprisingly, Marik was the first to step forward. What did surprise him was when Jou Katsuya and Ushio Hinoto stepped forward as well. Jou was a friend of Atemu’s brother . . . why would he want to challenge?

“Is he trustworthy?” Ushio shouted. “Will he keep our secrets?”

“Is he strong enough? Will he give his life for one of his brothers or sisters if it should be required?” Marik growled beside him. Bakura was amused to see Atemu shoot him a glare. There was that famous temper at being underestimated again. Jou’s question brought him back to the matter at hand.

“Why does he want to join us? He has a perfectly decent life uptown . . . what reason does he have for coming down here to us?” Bakura raised an eyebrow at the questions . . . Jou had a good point, one that he had been asking himself all of last night. Why would Atemu, who had a life that any of them would have loved to have, want to join them in the gutter? It was like a housecat wanting to play with alley cats . . . it really didn’t make any sense.
He turned to Atemu, those questions swimming in his eyes, and he was surprised when the youth stepped forward, looking directly at Jou.

“You out of anyone here should know, Jou, that my life isn’t as perfect as everyone thinks it is,” he said, staring into those amber eyes. “I’m tired of being something I wasn’t meant to be. There are things about me that even my brother doesn’t know, and the Jackals can give me that missing piece of myself that I’ve been denying.”

Jou, along with a good number of the other members, looked stunned by this revelation. Bakura himself was stunned at the slight glimpse into Atemu. What he knew of the man had always told him that Yugi was the one person Atemu never kept secrets from. The stunning statement that even Yugi didn’t know everything about his older brother set his mind to wondering just what exactly those secrets were, and he determined that eventually he would find out . . . one way or the other.

“A worthy answer,” he said, nodding. “But the other two require more than words, Atemu. Are you ready to prove yourself to us, and earn your place among us?” He met the crimson eyes steadily, and a satisfied smile crossed his face when Atemu met that gaze head on and nodded.

“Just tell me what to do,” he growled.

“First, get rid of the coat and shirt,” Bakura said. He was slightly surprised when the man did it without hesitation, dropping the leather bomber and white shirt to the floor carelessly. Of course, not all of that surprise was from how easily Atemu had followed his orders. The slightly tanned flesh that was exposed with the movement was toned . . . as in, not overly muscular, but definitely well built. He hadn’t thought Atemu was that fit. “Now kneel.”

Atemu sank to his knees, surprised that he was following Bakura’s orders so easily. He usually hated taking orders from anyone . . . and considering who those commands were coming from, he was doubly surprised at his willingness to follow them without question. But if this was a part of his ‘test’ than so be it. He’d never failed at anything in his life . . . he wasn’t about to start now.

He stiffened as Marik came up behind him, grabbing his arms and pulling them back so that he couldn’t move as Bakura pulled his head upright painfully.

“I’m going to check you for weapons, Atemu,” he murmured. “Then you are going to run the gauntlet to get to me. If you can make it through that gauntlet alive, you will have proven your willingness to die for me, and your strength and trustworthiness to the Jackals as a whole. Think you can do it?” Crimson eyes flashed before Atemu smiled.

“Anything you can do . . .” he replied, and Bakura laughed. So Atemu thought he could run the gauntlet better, did he? This would be interesting.

“I got out of the gauntlet with two cuts and one scrape,” Bakura said softly. “If you can do better than that, I’ll be surprised.” He was further amused when the man kneeling before him smirked.

“See you at the end, ‘Thief’,” he said. Bakura quickly patted him down for weapons, removing the knife that Atemu had used against him last night from it’s back sheath, and surprised when he came up with two boot knives as well. He would never have guess that the youth would carry so many. But then, he’d also never have guessed that he knew how to use them as well as he had last night either. Atemu was just full of surprises lately.

Taking the knives and laying them beside him, he gestured for Marik to take the lithe figure to the back of the club. Once Marik was there, he released Atemu, who stretched his arms for a moment before meeting Bakura’s gaze across the distance as the gang lined up, forming a narrow runway back to the stage. A runway that glittered with knifes, brass knuckles, and bats.

“Come and get me, Atemu,” he called out. Atemu nodded once . . . and then he was moving.

Dodge, twist, move, duck . . . Bakura watched with something akin to awe as the youth moved like a dancer through the gauntlet. He’d never seen someone move so gracefully in his life . . . it was like watching water flow over rocks, the way he seemed to be in one place, only to be somewhere else entirely in the next second. It was breathtaking . . . and the sweat glittering on that smooth, toned chest certainly didn’t hurt the eyes.

A blossom of crimson as a knife found it’s mark . . . and then Atemu was simply rolling onto the stage, coming up on his feet beside Bakura. He was slightly out of breathe, and his legs were a bit unsteady . . . but he bore only one cut, across the flesh of his upper right arm. Marik had been the only person to land a blow.

‘Holy shit,’ the pale man thought to himself, staring at Atemu in disbelief. ‘No one should be that good coming from the background he does. Where the hell did he get that smooth?’

“Do I pass, ‘Thief’?” Atemu asked wryly, idly checking the cut on his arm before turning to Bakura. “Do I ‘make the cut’?” Bakura shook himself out of his thoughts abruptly.

“Kneel,” he said. “And welcome . . . Yami.”

AN - And there's chapter two. Once again, people underestimating on account of looks. Here's a lesson . . . don't ever judge a book by it's cover. Usually, it will turn around and bite you.