Indulgence

Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warning: Yaoi, angst
Author's Note: The long awaited sequel. Sorry it took so long to get it up here, but my Microsoft Word crashed, and I really hate the other programs, so I've been trying to put this off until I get it fixed. It feels like it's been a very long time since I've updated anything, though. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed Indulgence. And don't worry, there is more Altered Lives coming soon too.

Apology

I rub my eyes sleepily, blinking through the soft glow of the sun filtering through the blinds in Marik’s room. I stretch and realize with a start that I’m the only one in the room. I don’t think I’ve ever waken up in their house on my own. I usually wake up to something hard pressing against me and someone’s hands down my pants, but not this morning.

I glance blearily around the room for my clothes before I remember they’re in Bakura’s room. Then last night comes rushing back to me, and I flush hotly at the memory. I rummage around the piles of clothes in the closet and find what appears to be a clean pair of shorts. I’m not sure whether they’re Bakura’s or Marik’s, but I pull them on and wrap the sheet around me and head towards Bakura’s room.

I manage to find my shirt and pants scattered on the floor, though my own boxers seem to have disappeared. I had just finished pulling my pants on and buckling them when I feel a hand slide down the back. I yelp with a start and try to get away, but an arm wraps itself around my waist and pulls me back.

“These are mine,” Bakura says in a sultry voice as he tugs at the waist band of the boxers peeking over the hem of my pants.

“I can’t find mine,” I mutter, extracting myself from his arm. “And they were in Marik’s closet.”

“Hmm,” Bakura says with a shrug, letting his fingers trail suggestively across my hip as he leaves the room. I sigh and follow, sitting on the couch next to Marik who is enthralled by something on the coffee table. Bakura sits down on my other side with a bowl of cereal, smirking in an uncomfortably satisfied manner.

*****

Yami glances in my direction looking mildly distressed. He notices my breakfast and suddenly seems to remember that we had skipped dinner last night in favor of other things.

“Want some?” I ask him, raising the bowl in my hand. Yami nods slowly, as if weighing the consequences of his decision. I grin. “What are you going to do for me then?”

He scowls at me, and I can’t help but grin wider. He’s so cute when he’s angry.

“Forget it,” he sighs, “I’ll get my own.”

“Aww, why do you have to be like that?” I ask congenially.

“Because I think you got enough last night,” he quips.

“Oh really? I seem to remember you being the one screaming in mind numbing pleasure every five seconds.” It’s a cheap shot, I know. But I just love the way he blushes demurely every time I mention what we had done.

He doesn’t fail and blushes brightly, muttering something under his breath and disappearing into the kitchen. Once he’s gone I scoot next to Marik and peer at the photographs strewn across the table.

They were all pictures from last night, featuring Yami and occasionally Marik and I. I picked one up, feeling arousal wash over me just from looking at it. It was of Yami, naked and trussed to the bed. He was twisting against his bonds, his muscles glistening under a sheen of sweat. His erection was lying against the hollow of his hip as he tried to twist his body away from the wax that was leaving a scalding trail down his side.

“Nice, huh,” Marik said absently, staring at another picture. I nodded in agreement, shuffling through a couple more, all as delicious as the first.

Yami finally comes back from the kitchen and sits next to me, eating his cereal. He looks in interest at what we were doing, but says nothing. He finishes his cereal and puts the bowl carefully on the table so as not to disturb the pictures.

“What are those?” he asks in a voice that makes it clear he isn’t happy with being ignored. I grin and hand him the picture I was looking at early. His eyes widen considerably, and he stares at it for a minute, as if trying to believe what he was seeing.

*****

It takes Yami several seconds to go from shocked to angry. “What the hell is this?” he demands, throwing the picture on the table and grabbing another, like he was hoping they wouldn’t all be the same.

Bakura snickers softly, and Yami goes even paler. “You took pictures of me?” he asks quietly.

I roll my eyes. “Well obviously, Yami. You like ‘em?” He doesn’t say anything but his eyes shift to the others strewn across the table.

“Just wait until little Yugi sees what a slut his yami is,” Bakura says gruffly.

“No!” Yami says, suddenly overcoming his inability to speak. “You can’t just take pictures of me like this without asking!” he says shrilly.

“We never ask you before we do anything,” I remind him, and he looks furious.

“That’s exactly the problem, isn’t it?” he says angrily, standing from the sofa and walking around the other side of the coffee table, the picture still gripped tightly in his hand.

Bakura and I are both silent as Yami continues. “You can’t just show these to people!”

“Not people,” Bakura says lazily, “Just your hikari. And maybe our hikaris.”

Yami looks like he’s ready to launch himself at Bakura and I get between them, grabbing Yami’s shoulders.

“Hey,” I said softly. “They’re just pictures.”

“Pictures of me,” he corrects. “Like...like that.” He trembles under my hand, and I pull him closer.

“We’re not really going to show Yugi,” I tell him softly. He doesn’t look angry anymore, now he looks like he’s going to cry.

“I don’t want them,” he says shakily as he stared at the photographs on the table.

“It’s okay Yami,” I tell him. “We’ll get rid of them.” I had no idea he’d be so upset about this. He’s leaning against me and trembling, his fingers gripping in my shirt as he stares at the pictures on the table.

“Like hell we will!” Bakura says angrily, standing up too and advancing on us. Yami flinches, but Bakura doesn’t back down.

“Bakura,” I say quietly, and he turns his angry gaze to me.

“Oh come on Marik! Why do we have to stop having fun just because Yami decides to be a little bitch?” he yells, gesturing at Yami.

Yami looks really upset now, and he’s trying to pull away from me, but I hold on to him tighter.

“Come on, baby,” I say to him, but he pulls out of my grip, and I can tell he’s fighting tears.

“Well, if that’s how you feel Bakura,” he says quietly, “maybe I should leave.”

“Come on, Yami, why do you have to make such a big deal over this?” I ask, exasperated with him and Bakura’s bickering.

Bakura grins at him. “Let him go Marik. Now we don’t have to put up with his bitching every time we want to do something new.”

Yami steels himself and glares back at Bakura. “I want the pictures.”

Bakura smiles deviously. “Fine. Take them. But I’m going to need my shorts back first.”

I can’t help myself, I laugh. Bakura always manages to get him into these situations and the prospect of Yami stripping his pants off now is just too delightful.

Yami froze in the middle of scooping up the photographs, blushing brightly.

*****

“Forget it,” I mutter, turning and walking out of the house. I pause once I slam the door behind me, trying desperately to control my tears. I don’t know whether I was more hurt or angry. I realize after standing on their front step for five minutes and neither comes out after me, it’s hurt that I’m feeling.

Why does Bakura have to be so cruel? Truthfully, I’ve wondered the same things for some time. Did they think I was boring? Were they sick of me? It hurt to hear Bakura voice my fears like that. And Marik, he thought I was just being childish.

I thought we were...more. I guess not. I guess I was stupid to let them pull me into their overindulgent relationship. I should have known better.

I manage to make it a mile or two before catching the bus home. As I let myself in, Yugi looks up from the sofa.

“Hi, Yami!” he says cheerily. “Your home early.”

I nod and he gets up, looking worried and comes over to hug me. I let myself relax in his arms, and I hug him back desperately.

“What’s wrong, Yami?” he murmured. “Did they do something to you?”

“No,” I reply. “I was tired and thought I’d just come home early.”

“No wonder,” Yugi says, wrinkling his nose. “You smell like sex.”

I smile weakly at him. “Yeah, I’m gonna take a shower.”

As I turned to go, I heard Yugi say in surprise, “Yami, what happened to your neck?”

I smile grimly and answer, “Marik,” before continuing up the stairs and to my room.

I lock the door and just barely manage to make it to the bed before I lose my control and start sobbing into the pillows.

I hate them so much. All my insecurities were surging forward, and I desperately wanted to think they were just being mean, but I knew better. Bakura and Marik may have intended it to just be cruel, but I have no doubt they meant every word.

I’m sorry I wasn’t completely comfortable with their sexual deviance. But that doesn’t give them the right to treat me like they do. I wouldn’t say I loved either of them, but I did care. I thought they did too. They could be so nice sometimes.

But I guess that was just so I would do what they wanted without complaint.

I finally forced myself to quiet my sobs, clutching my pillow to my chest and staring blankly at the wall. Yugi didn’t want me. Bakura and Marik don’t want me. Who was left?

I was terrified to be alone. As much as I had tried to deny it to myself, I knew that was the main reason I joined up with Marik and Bakura. Yugi had just rejected me, and I was lonely. I needed someone to want me. Even if it was just for sex.

I guess that’s what I deserve, then. I allowed them to use me, so I should have expected eventually they’d throw me away.

*****

“Why did you have to be like that,” Marik asks me with a scowl.

“Like what?” I reply with a scowl of my own.

“Why did you have to be so mean to him?”

“Oh, he’ll get over it. He always does.”

“I’ve never seen him this mad before,” Marik observes, gaze lingering on the door Yami had left through moments earlier.

“Since when did we ever care about Yami’s feelings in this relationship anyway?” I ask crankily.

Marik smiles wryly at me. “Since you started referring to this as a ‘relationship.’”

I scowled at him, but didn’t respond. He was right, of course. I had never really pondered the logistics of the three of us, but I guess I did view it as a relationship. A fucked up one, but a relationship nevertheless.

“I think we should apologize,” Marik says finally.

“Fuck no,” I tell him. “Why should I?”

He sighs and hooks his arms around my waist, pulling me into a kiss. He plunders my mouth, and I’m too put off to stop him. His tongue soon leaves it and moves to my neck, lavishing it thoroughly as his hand slips down the front of my pants and his other pushes me closer to him. I moan subconsciously and press against him as he wraps his hand around my half-formed erection.

“If you don’t,” he whispers hotly in my ear, “We won’t be able to do stuff like this to him anymore.”

With that said, he makes his point clear by sliding his other hand down the back of my pants and giving me a firm squeeze. I choke on a gasp and turn away from him angrily. He sighs and wraps his arms around me from the back and leans his head on my shoulder.

“Come on, Bakura,” he says softly. “I know you like him more than you let on. Besides, are you really willing to give up nights like last night just because you’re stubborn?”

“I’m not apologizing to him,” I say crankily. I hate admitting I am wrong. Besides, I’m not wrong.

“Can you at least be nice?” Marik asks in exasperation.

I pretend to ponder that. The truth is I really do like Yami. I like how fucking submissive he can be, and I like that he hates it. I like the way he looks tied to my bed. I like the sounds he makes when I fuck him. I even like the way he curls up against me when he sleeps. Not that I’d ever admit that to anyone.

But I hate the way he gets so worked up over everything we do, though I know he enjoys it. I hate that we have to push him every inch of the way. I hate that he hates being with us.

“Fine,” I concede as Marik nips at my ear. “I’m not apologizing, but I’ll play nice.”

“Good,” Marik says and shoves me onto the couch and follows, straddling my hips. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

I grin as he descends on me. Sometimes, I think he only picks fights so we can have make-up sex. I know I do.

*****

I’m sitting on Yami’s bed when he comes back from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair dripping wet against his shoulders. His eyes only widen in surprise for a minute before they’re downcast again.

“What are you doing here?” he asks quietly. He’s been crying. Even though he’s showered, I can still see the tracks on his face from the tears, and the thought that it was my fault squeezes at my heart.

“I came to see you,” I respond.

“I don’t really want to see you right now,” he replies just as quietly, standing stiffly just inside the door as if he’s afraid if he gets to close I’ll attack him.

“Come on Yami, I came to apologize,” I tell him, standing from the bed.

“And Bakura?” he asks sourly, and I can hear the pain in his voice.

“He’s sorry too.”

“Then why is it only you here?” he replies, still not looking at me.

“You know how Bakura is,” I say with a shrug.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But why do I have to be the one to put up with ‘how he is?’”

I don’t have an answer for that, so I say nothing. He’s fiddling with something sitting on his desk, and he looks like he’s going to cry again.

“Yami,” I say softly, crossing the room to him and grabbing his arm.

“Don’t,” he says in a choked voice, but I ignore him and pull him against me, wrapping my arms around his trembling body.

“Marik, I can’t,” he says, and then he’s crying. His hands bunch in the fabric of my shirt, and I hold him tighter.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him as I stroke his hair, waiting for him to cry himself out. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Didn’t you?” he asks, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Of course not,” I tell him harshly.

He finally looks at me, his eyes bloodshot and wet. His expression is so vulnerable and needy, and his question throws me. “Why am I with you?”

“What do you mean why?” I ask, confused.

“You don’t even like me,” he says. “I know Bakura doesn’t. Is it just because you need someone to bottom?”

“No,” I say firmly. “That’s not it at all.”

“Then why?” he asks, staring at me pleadingly. It breaks my heart how vulnerable he looks, sitting half naked on the bed, the towel pooling around his legs.

“Because we want you with us,” I tell him and he breaks eye contact with me again to stare at his hands curled in his lap.

“That’s not true,” he says harshly.

“Why not?” I ask, slightly annoyed. “Is it that hard to believe someone wants to be with you?”

When he looks up at me again, I know I’m right.

*****

Why does he have to do this? I want so badly to believe him, but I know it’s not really true, and I’ll end up in the same situation again. I don’t think I can take it again.

He says my name softly, and I look at him again. The sincerity in his eyes almost makes me believe him. “We do care about you, Yami.”

“No, you don’t,” I tell him, pulling away from his grasp. “You don’t respect me. You don’t care what I want or what I need. You use me, and I let you! You only want me to come back so you can act out your sick little fantasies with me. You don’t care about me at all.”

I turn away from him and am startled when he closes his fingers tightly around my upper arm and yanks me back.

“Don’t just walk away from this!” he says angrily, eyes blazing. “You knew exactly what Bakura and I were like when you got into this. We both know you enjoy what we do, but you don’t like to admit it. Well, Bakura and I care about you, but we don’t like admitting it either. We may not ask what you want, but you don’t exactly volunteer the information either. We try, okay. I’m sorry we aren’t quite what you need us to be, but we do try. Maybe this picture thing was taking it too far, and I’ve apologized for that. But don’t say we don’t care.”

I stood there frozen in disbelief. Marik was actually admitting he cared about me? And Bakura too? His eyes softened, and he loosened his grip on my arm, letting me pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s okay,” I mumble. We sit for together for awhile in awkward silence as I struggle with how to respond to that. Does he really mean it? I don’t think I could take it if he didn’t.

“Do you mean that?” I ask finally, glancing up at him.

“Look, Yami-” he began when I cut him off.

“Don’t lie to me, Marik. Please don’t lie. Do you really mean that?”

He closes his mouth and looks at me for a second as if considering, and I start to panic. He didn’t mean it. Of course he didn’t. Why would he?

“Yes,” he says finally. “I mean it.”

I release a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. He means it.

“Okay,” I say because I don’t know what else to say. I feel kind of stupid over my outburst, yet I’m so relieved. I wasn’t being used. I wasn’t being rejected. Not this time.

His arms encircle me, and I lean into his comforting warmth.

“Thank you,” I whisper as I rest my head against his chest, shivering as his fingers run up my spine and it’s only then I realized I’m still dressed in only a towel.

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a hint of amusement in his voice, repeating the action. I shiver again, and he pulls the towel off and flips us over, pining me to the bed. I don’t get a chance to say a word before his lips press wonderfully to mine. He deepens the kiss ever so slowly, finally pushing his tongue in to caress the inside of my mouth. His fingers travel down my side and skate over the sensitive skin of my stomach, making me shiver again.

He pulls away and stares down at me. I can’t help the blush that spreads across my face as I realize I’m completely nude, and he’s still fully clothed.

“Come on,” he says, pulling me up. “Get dressed. Bakura has something planned.”

I look warily at him, and he just grins. “Don’t worry, I promise you will like it.”

I don’t know if I believe him, but I pull my clothes on anyway and follow him out the door.

*****

Marik finally gets back, and I am pleased to see Yami is meekly following him into the living room. Marik gives me a meaningful look and then goes off upstairs. Yami looks between him and me still on the couch before coming over to sit next to me, leaving enough space so I could just ignore him if I wanted to.

He pointedly looks away, but I notice his gaze is finally drawn to the coffee table and the pictures still strewn across it.

“You know we were never going to show them to anyone, right?” I ask him, making him jump.

He looks at me with a confused expression. “Then why did you take them?”

I shrug. “They were just for us.”

He still looks confused. “Why would you want pictures like that?”

I sigh in exasperation. “Jesus, Yami. Have you looked at them?”

He looks back to his lap. “Yes,” he says in a strained voice. “That still doesn’t answer the question.”

I roll my eyes and pick up my favorite of the pictures, already a little worn at the corners and scoot over next to him and pressing against his side.

“Look at them Yami,” I say, handing him the picture. “You’re fucking hot. I’m never going to need to watch another porno again.”

He blushes, but takes the picture, staring at it as if he was trying to understand what I could possibly mean.

I lean my head against his and rest one of my arms over his shoulders, peering down at the picture in his hand. It’s taken from the side, but he’s turned slightly towards the camera so you can see the entire expanse of his chest, the expression on his face, and his swollen erection lying against his hip. His spine is arched into the air and his mouth is open in ecstasy as red wax drips down his stomach. He’s bound so tightly he can hardly move, but the strain of trying makes his muscles stand out tautly under his sweat soaked skin. He looks like he’s just on the edge of coming, and it is so fucking erotic. I don’t know how he doesn’t see it.

He runs his fingers over the picture, and I whisper. “Look at yourself, Yami.”

He does. He stares at the picture for several minutes as if he’s trying to memorize the lines of his own body. I place my hand on his cheek and turn his face away from the photo so I can kiss him. I make it as sweet as I can, cupping his face gently in both of my hands and practically crawling into his lap to get just the right angle to the kiss.

When I finally pull away, he’s looking at me with such appreciation that I realize he really doesn’t know how much he turns me on. So I kiss him again and again, trying to convey with my actions what I can’t quite say with words.

When I’m done I rest my forehead against his. We’re both breathing hard, and he’s gripping my shirt as if his life depended on it.

“Marik said you had something planned,” he pants, and I smile warmly at him.

“You could say that,” I reply, kissing him again.

*****

Bakura is being so sweet when I come back downstairs. Neither of them notices I’m here, but I watch as he kisses Yami into submission. I grin at that. Bakura’s such a bitch for him.

“Are you done making up yet? I’m bored,” I announce my presence, and they both look over their shoulders at me. Yami looks embarrassed, but Bakura only grins.

“Can’t have that can we,” he replies sweetly. He pulls Yami up from the couch and the three of us head to my room. Yami’s trapped between us, and he can do nothing but meekly follow. When I close the door behind us, he looks from me to Bakura and back again. He looks more vulnerable than usual, but I can tell he isn’t about to refuse this.

“What are we doing?” he asks nervously.

Bakura smiles at him and pulls him back until they’re both on the bed, Yami straddling Bakura’s lap. He presses his lips to Yami’s ear and whispers hotly, “I’m going to let you fuck me.”

I don’t need to see his face to know his eyes widen considerably. Even from over here by the door I can see the visible tremble of excitement that runs through his body.

“What?” Yami asks shakily. Bakura lies back on the bed, pulling Yami on top of him.

“I’m. Going. To. Let. You. Fuck. Me.” he bucks his hips in the air at every word, making Yami gasp.

I can practically feel the arousal radiating off Yami as I join them on the bed.

“Really?” he asks in a tone that sounds like he thinks we’re teasing him.

Bakura nods, pulling off his shirt and spreading his legs wantonly beneath Yami. I think Yami stops breathing for a moment. I know I do. Bakura is so fucking hot when he’s being a slut.

“Come on, baby,” Bakura purrs, thrusting his hips up once more. “Fuck me.”

Yami stares down at him, unmoving. I press my chest to his back, and he leans against me. I slide my hand around his front and slip it under his shirt, caressing his stomach. He shudders and closes his eyes. I pull his shirt off along with mine, and I press against him again, relishing the feel of his hot skin beneath me. Bakura is staring up at us, looking completely mesmerized, and his eyes are clouded with lust.

I kiss Yami’s neck and continue running my fingers across his skin. He moans quietly and arches his back. Bakura’s look becomes unnaturally feral, and he reaches up, tangling his fingers painfully in my hair and yanks me down into a vicious kiss.

When I finally jerked away, I was gasping for air. “Take off his pants,” I growl to Yami and he trembles beneath me in excitement.

*****

I slowly unbuckle Bakura’s pants. He’s staring at me like he wants me to devour him whole. I don’t know if he’s ever looked so sensuous. As I slide his pants off and feel Marik doing the same for me. Soon we are all naked and the feel of our hot skin rubbing against each other is deliciously intoxicating.

“Spread his legs,” Marik says in a low, husky voice. His voice induces shivers every time he speaks in that low sultry tone. I do as he says, running my hands down Bakura’s sides and under his thighs. He allows me to lift them and spread him wide. His eyes are still burning into mine, his gaze never faltering. I felt my breathing quicken as he opened himself beneath me.

I can feel Marik at my back, spreading my legs too. He presses soft kisses down my spine, and I let my fingers trail along the inside of Bakura’s thighs. Marik’s hand runs up the back of my spine and pushes my head down until my face is close to Bakura’s groin. I rest my cheek on his hip and look up at him.

His eyes have grown dark and he’s staring down at me with a look that sends electricity racing through my body. I’m surprised by how much this turns him on. I realize I was losing myself in Bakura’s gaze when I feel something hot and wet press against my opening, and I yelp in surprise. He presses his tongue against me again and licks all the way up to the base of my spine. I cry out and tighten my grip on Bakura’s legs and Marik says in that same low voice that makes my cock twitch, “Do to him what I’m doing to you.”

I shudder at that and glance back up at Bakura who is now looking at Marik with this ferocious expression. Then he looks back at me expectantly and tilts his hips to give me better access. I feel my cock twitch at the sight and settle my self between his legs, arching my ass in the air for Marik.

I experimentally run the tip of my tongue around the wrinkled hole and enjoy the shudder I get from Bakura. I tease him again, and he presses back on my tongue so I slip it past the ring of muscles until just the tip is inside him.

He makes this needy mewling noise, and I nearly cum right there. Bakura has never sounded so desperate. I press my tongue in farther and try to hold back the moan welling in my throat as Marik brutally forces his tongue into me. He presses it in deep, forcing me to do the same to Bakura, who lets out this throaty groan that goes straight to my groin.

Soon I’m moaning and rocking back onto Marik’s tongue and forward into Bakura. I want so desperately to touch myself. The feeling becomes more desperate, and I renew my efforts with Bakura, feeling a glimmer of triumph as he starts to writhe under my tongue. I abandon his entrance and run my tongue over his balls, sucking them into my mouth for a moment. I give a single teasing lick to the head of his cock, tasting the precum there before forcing my tongue back into him. I can feel Marik doing similar things to me, and I don’t know which feeling is more overwhelming right now.

With a last lick, Marik sits back and I shakily do the same. Bakura’s eyes were closed, but the moment it stops, he snaps them open again, focusing his gaze on me. Normally I’d blush under such an intensely lustful stare, but I am too aroused at the moment to even worry about it.

*****

Holy Ra. Yami has a very talented tongue. I should let him do that more often. I should let him do all of this more often.

Marik’s whispering something in Yami’s ear, one hand idly stroking his arm. Yami’s eyes are nearly closed and if the tiny trembles racing through his body at Marik’s words are any indication, I don’t think he’s ever been harder.

Growing bored with their lack of attention; I wrap my fingers loosely around my own heavy arousal and stoke myself slowly. Yami notices what I’m doing and his eyes lock onto my actions. I grin up at him, and he swallows visibly.

“Prepare him,” Marik growls in his ear, and from the slight twitch of Yami’s body, I can tell Marik already has fingers in him. I stop stroking myself and let my legs fall open in invitation. Yami takes the tube Marik hands him and squeezes some of the cool substance on to his fingers. He doesn’t take his eyes off me the whole time as he presses his cool fingertips to my entrance, swirling them around before ever so slowly pushing one inside.

I stare right back at him and I know I must look insane, but it takes all my strength not to throw my head back and groan at the feeling of his finger tentatively searching inside of me. He watches in fascination as his finger disappears inside my body as he pushes it in as far as it will go.

“Do three,” Marik says quietly, watching both of us as he spreads his finger inside Yami. “He can take it.” His eyes snap back up to mine, and I give him a slight nod. He let’s out a breath of air and adds two more. I cringe a bit at the stretch, but force my body down on them, enjoying the little tingles of pain shooting up my spine. He moves them around, stretching and reaching as if he’s trying to touch every part of me. It isn’t until he grazes my prostate that I break eye contact with him again, throwing my head back and moaning loudly.

He lets out a similar noise and Marik grins possessively down at us over Yami’s shoulder. I can tell he’s doing the thing where he flicks his wrist and pushes right against those sensitive nerves because Yami moans again, and it comes out nearly a scream.

His fingers begin to twist inside of me, trying to imitate Marik. He doesn’t quite succeed, but the shy persistent way he moves them around inside me is turning me on in a whole different way. I want him so badly.

I want to feel him inside me, feel him so deep that his hips are pressed tightly to my ass. I want Marik to force him even deeper. I want him to feel like I’m devouring him from the inside it feels so good. I want him to fuck me with his cock the way he did with his fingers. I want him to come so deep inside of me that I can still feel it days after. Right now, I’ve never wanted anything more in the world than I want him.

And when Marik finally says those two wonderful little words, my mind feels like it is exploding in bliss.

“Fuck him.”

*****

A tremor runs through my body, and it is more feral than any of the ones before.

Fuck him.

It’s something I’ve fantasized about for so long, but never thought I’d be able to do. I never realized how badly I wanted it until he was lying right there in front of me, so expectant and aroused.

I pull my fingers out slowly and I feel Marik’s cool fingers spreading lubricant over my swollen erection. It aches from the touch and the ache spreads to the rest of my body, making my need more demanding than ever.

I can feel Marik’s equally slicked erection pressing between my cheeks as he leans over me and whispers hotly in my ear, “Fuck him.”

I lock eyes with Bakura again, and I know I won’t be able to look away. I grip his hips tightly and slowly press my length into his tight channel. I don’t even get the head all the way in before the intensity of the feeling overwhelms me. It’s so tight and hot, squeezing around my erection from all sides. His passage feels like it’s too small and that there is no way I can fit all myself in. The pressure is maddening and delicious and the last fleeting thought that I have before I completely lose myself is how anyone can survive this.

The sharp pain of Marik entering me brings me back from the swirling pleasure encasing me enough that I remember to push the rest of the way in. The force of Marik’s entry aids me, and soon I am fully sheathed inside Bakura’s body. He lets out a low groan and digs his fingers into my arms, pulling me closer.

It is amazing, the feeling of Marik inside me simultaneous with the one of being inside Bakura. There is nearly unbearable stretching from one end and wonderful amazing pressure from the other and the battling sensations make my body feel like it is on fire.

Marik presses against my back and whispers in my ear, “Move.”

I did, slowly pulling out as Marik does and then pushing back into that slick velvet. I start a little shaky, but soon I fall into rhythm with Marik, letting him guide my thrusts into Bakura. When Marik hits my prostate, my eyes shoot open, and I don’t even remember closing them. I am met with Bakura’s riveting gaze, and I can’t help but stare transfixed at him as I thrust into him. He lets out a low vibrating noise that sounds like a purr. I think I hit his prostate, so I try it again, only to be awarded with the same noise of absolute pleasure.

His body moves so easily with mine as he starts pushing back against my thrusts, which drives Marik deeper into me and me deeper into Bakura. My vision starts becoming fuzzy around the edges and the heat pooling in the bottom of my stomach is beginning to spread outwards in a searing path. The pressure and the pleasure are so overwhelming that I can’t hold back any longer.

*****

Yami screams and throws his head back over my shoulder, his eyes clenched shut as he cums violently into Bakura. His whole body is shaking against me, and I support him the best I can as I speed up my thrusts. I reach my free hand around Yami’s body to wrap tightly around Bakura’s arousal. He groans in appreciation and with only a few strokes, his body goes rigid and he cums all over my fingers, splashing onto Yami’s chest.

It takes a few more shallow strokes before I follow them over the edge, emptying myself inside Yami, who sighs contentedly and collapses on Bakura. We all stay like that for awhile, trying to catch our breaths, and in Yami’s case, keep consciousness.

I finally ease out of Yami, pulling him down with me on the bed next to Bakura. His body relaxes between us, and I thought he had fallen asleep when I hear him whisper, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say with a grin as I wrap an arm around both of them, pulling us together. Our skin is sticky and sweaty, but no one seems to mind the way we stick together. Bakura wipes the hair out of his eyes and presses a soft kiss to Yami’s forehead and repeats my words. He reaches over Yami for my hand, interlocking our fingers and resting them on Yami’s hip. I smile at him, and he returns it. Yami snuggles between us, pressing his face into the crook of my neck, Bakura pressing against his back.

Bakura used to insist that we were only like this after sex for Yami’s sake, but I know he enjoys it as much as we do. It’s nice to relax in each other’s embrace, even if it’s just for moments like this when we’re all too tired to care.

Yami’s breathing deepens and evens out as he falls asleep. I gaze at him fondly, knowing Bakura is doing the same. I can tell he’s glad he gave into my pestering because he didn’t mean a word of those things he had said to Yami earlier. He cares about him just as much as I do. I don’t know about them, but I am perfectly happy as we are now, no matter how unrealistic it may seem at times. We even each other out, and we’re the support that all of us desperately need. They can both deny it all they want, but there will never be anything better.