Blood and Leather
folder
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,486
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,486
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Yu-Gi-oh. Nor do I own any of the characters in this saga. I make no cash or profit of any kind from this work.
II
It was inescapably obvious that things were about to get much much worse about three months later when I woke up in Domino Park next to a fresh corpse just hours before dawn.
In case you were curious, dear reader, we had moved to fine city of Domino because Kaiba had for some clever reason decided to create an Egyptian themed nightclub. Naturally he suggested that it be run by my sister, seeing how it would part museum and all.
Oh yes. Quite clever, that Kaiba. Always able to avoid direct confrontation by constant manipulative circumvention.
However, it was Bakura's decision that Odion and I should accompany dear sis on this little move to Japan. I had suspected this was for far more than just the fleeting possibility of being able to catch a forlorn glimpse of his old body from time to time.
Of course, I would have done the same.
Those who live in darkness can't help but stalk after the light without shame.
Besides...
They just make it so damn easy.
Not us true creatures of darkness though, no; we were fighters. Till death, and beyond.
In my case however, fighting really didn't seem to be doing much good.
Night after night I would drift off to sleep and awaken to find myself before my computer. Santeria, Voodoo, Hypnosis; Forgotten Rituals from across the globe would all glare back at me mockingly, knowing that I could do nothing but wonder what else I might have been searching for last night.
They wouldn't work of course, because Bakura wasn't actually "dead" was he?
No. His soul was in pieces, just as it had been for the past 5000 years, but it was still "alive and well"... so to speak.
Also, his body had already been "reincarnated" this generation which was a whole new level of ritual complication. A point I could have mentioned to him had he ever bothered to ask.
But of course, he hadn't.
People really should learn to ask me things.
And now, there was this...
I didn't know who this poor dead fucker was but I recognized the Nordic Runes carved into him as he hung from the tree above me like some crude replication of the death and resurrection of Odin.
"Stupid." I muttered, rising to my feet and shuddering at the disturbing amount of barely dry blood on my hands. "It's not even fucking Wednesday!"
... And what the fuck does that have to do with anything? Bakura hissed from somewhere within me and I shuddered, rubbing at my temples wearily before tackling the massive tree trunk before me.
"Wednesday." I muttered, kicking hard at the branch once I was in position in the tree above. "Is Odin's day. Not that it even fucking matters! Osiris himself couldn't help you right now. As far as the cosmos is concerned you're now no more than a wandering sprite tethered to a corporeal form. MY corporeal form!"
Finally I heard the branch snap and there was a satisfying crunch as it and the corpse tied to it tumbled to the ground below.
Now to get back down...
... I see. He murmured slowly. ... How exactly do *you* now so much about these sort of matters anyway?
"I have a tattoo carved into my back with the direct intention of being some dead Pharaoh's Guide to Infinite Power when he finally woke back up." I muttered darkly, hopping down the rest of the way. "And it was carved into me when I was 10, remember?"
... So tell me, how would you do it, then? If you were me? Bakura inquired bemusedly.
"We're gonna need a vessel or an item of some kind." I replied dragging the body into the bushes. "That way it can contain you, and *only* you, before the transfer. No Santeria! I don't want to end up stuck with some new stranger in my head! Or worse, find myself stuck in theirs."
"We do this right, no more of this fucking stupidity!" I yelled, waving at the corpse in front of me irritably. "Now, your turn. What the fuck do I do with *this*?!"
... Just leave him here in the bushes and go home. He replied boredly. ... It's not like the Domino police have your DNA on file somewhere or something.
The overwhelming truth of that disturbed me sightly.
"Man." I noted, moving around some branches mildly. "Even without a handy supply of Shadow Magic it is still damn easy to get away with murder."
I looked down at my hands then, and felt the bile rise up within me as it finally sunk in. These hands, had taken a life.
I'd never killed with my hands before, and worse, *I* hadn't even done the killing, had I?
Not that this assuaged my guilt any, no. It just made me feel even more raped than I already did.
Murder, was an intimate act.
And he'd done it with *my* body...
"I need a shower." I muttered sullenly, stepping out of the bushes and heading home to do just that.
Ishizu, Odion, and I lived in a nice, cozy little flat on the third and top floor of a well-off apartment setup.
Paid for entirely by Kaiba of course.
The water steamed down on me, warm, wet, and heavy taking the blood and my stress with it.
I swallowed softly, watching as the blood was washed down the drain; an inescapably stark contrast to the white of the tub.
... You like it, don't you? Bakura murmured coyly. ... You don't have to say anything, your body loves to talk for you.
"Shut up." I flushed, turning away irritably.
... No. He muttered darkly. ... You shut up.
Just like that I felt my treacherous right hand clamp over my mouth, shoving my head back into the tile roughly.
Muttering darkly against the oddly foreign feel of my own hand I tired to lift my left to intercede only to find that it to was no longer under my control as it flattened firmly against my abs, shoving the rest of me up against the cool slickness of tile as well.
... Shh. He whispered playful, the hand at my stomach lifting up and delicately brushing a soaked blond lock from my cheek.
I groaned, unable to help but react at how good that felt on my wear and aching body.
... That's right. Bakura echoed, running those fingers through my hair sinfully as my right hand kept my trembling mouth prisoner. ... You were a good boy today, Marik. So helpful.
... Let me help you.
He pulled loose my fingers from my hair, leaving only the middle which he traced delicately down my cheek causing me to tremble deliciously as my wanton arousal grew.
Lower that middle finger traced, teasing my the right side of my neck and side, pausing to swirl playfully around my nipple before making me arch wildly as it found that sensual cleft in my side as my right hand muffled my desperate begging.
... Just do it already! I cried out from within, arching against the now sweaty hotness of the tiles behind me as water beat down painfully on my member. ... Stop fucking around and just fuck me!
... Well. He murmured, tracing a light circle against my pubic line causing me to arch into him with a frustrated and wanting groan. ...Since you asked so nicely.
... Oh! I muttered, my eyes closing blissfully as I finally felt my left hand close around shaft. ... Fuck yeah.
I'm not sure I can describe to you dear reader exactly how amazing the following actions felt.
Imagine if you will, the touch of your own hand. Familiar, skilled. It knows you, your body, your so-called "erogenous" zones.
Now, imagine this mixed with the clever technique of another. And imagine if you will that this other has had roughly 5000 years or so to "perfect" said technique.
Now imagine, that he REALLY wants to make you cum.
I explain this to you dear readers, so that you can properly appreciate how little time this all took. I could not tell you if he had me in three delicious strokes, or thirty.
No, I can only tell you that he had me.
Oh yes, he had me...
And he fucking knew it.
I remembered the feel of my hand pressed against my lips as I mumbled his name desperately into it over and over and over and then he let go; just to hear the sound of his name pour from my lips as I exploded within "his" hand.
My right hand now my own I gripped desperately at the tile for support as my body convulsed, reality coming back to me in the form of a now cold shower.
"You did good, Marik." I heard my voice mutter aloud as I panted for air. Great, now he could take my voice as well. "I think from now on we can actually be partners, you and I."
... And don't worry. He whispered, my right hand lifting itself up and brushing my wet hair from my face once more. ... I'll make it worth your while.
I felt my right hand fall limp, then his presence was gone and the hand wrapped around on my soft and used cock was all my own.
In case you were curious, dear reader, we had moved to fine city of Domino because Kaiba had for some clever reason decided to create an Egyptian themed nightclub. Naturally he suggested that it be run by my sister, seeing how it would part museum and all.
Oh yes. Quite clever, that Kaiba. Always able to avoid direct confrontation by constant manipulative circumvention.
However, it was Bakura's decision that Odion and I should accompany dear sis on this little move to Japan. I had suspected this was for far more than just the fleeting possibility of being able to catch a forlorn glimpse of his old body from time to time.
Of course, I would have done the same.
Those who live in darkness can't help but stalk after the light without shame.
Besides...
They just make it so damn easy.
Not us true creatures of darkness though, no; we were fighters. Till death, and beyond.
In my case however, fighting really didn't seem to be doing much good.
Night after night I would drift off to sleep and awaken to find myself before my computer. Santeria, Voodoo, Hypnosis; Forgotten Rituals from across the globe would all glare back at me mockingly, knowing that I could do nothing but wonder what else I might have been searching for last night.
They wouldn't work of course, because Bakura wasn't actually "dead" was he?
No. His soul was in pieces, just as it had been for the past 5000 years, but it was still "alive and well"... so to speak.
Also, his body had already been "reincarnated" this generation which was a whole new level of ritual complication. A point I could have mentioned to him had he ever bothered to ask.
But of course, he hadn't.
People really should learn to ask me things.
And now, there was this...
I didn't know who this poor dead fucker was but I recognized the Nordic Runes carved into him as he hung from the tree above me like some crude replication of the death and resurrection of Odin.
"Stupid." I muttered, rising to my feet and shuddering at the disturbing amount of barely dry blood on my hands. "It's not even fucking Wednesday!"
... And what the fuck does that have to do with anything? Bakura hissed from somewhere within me and I shuddered, rubbing at my temples wearily before tackling the massive tree trunk before me.
"Wednesday." I muttered, kicking hard at the branch once I was in position in the tree above. "Is Odin's day. Not that it even fucking matters! Osiris himself couldn't help you right now. As far as the cosmos is concerned you're now no more than a wandering sprite tethered to a corporeal form. MY corporeal form!"
Finally I heard the branch snap and there was a satisfying crunch as it and the corpse tied to it tumbled to the ground below.
Now to get back down...
... I see. He murmured slowly. ... How exactly do *you* now so much about these sort of matters anyway?
"I have a tattoo carved into my back with the direct intention of being some dead Pharaoh's Guide to Infinite Power when he finally woke back up." I muttered darkly, hopping down the rest of the way. "And it was carved into me when I was 10, remember?"
... So tell me, how would you do it, then? If you were me? Bakura inquired bemusedly.
"We're gonna need a vessel or an item of some kind." I replied dragging the body into the bushes. "That way it can contain you, and *only* you, before the transfer. No Santeria! I don't want to end up stuck with some new stranger in my head! Or worse, find myself stuck in theirs."
"We do this right, no more of this fucking stupidity!" I yelled, waving at the corpse in front of me irritably. "Now, your turn. What the fuck do I do with *this*?!"
... Just leave him here in the bushes and go home. He replied boredly. ... It's not like the Domino police have your DNA on file somewhere or something.
The overwhelming truth of that disturbed me sightly.
"Man." I noted, moving around some branches mildly. "Even without a handy supply of Shadow Magic it is still damn easy to get away with murder."
I looked down at my hands then, and felt the bile rise up within me as it finally sunk in. These hands, had taken a life.
I'd never killed with my hands before, and worse, *I* hadn't even done the killing, had I?
Not that this assuaged my guilt any, no. It just made me feel even more raped than I already did.
Murder, was an intimate act.
And he'd done it with *my* body...
"I need a shower." I muttered sullenly, stepping out of the bushes and heading home to do just that.
Ishizu, Odion, and I lived in a nice, cozy little flat on the third and top floor of a well-off apartment setup.
Paid for entirely by Kaiba of course.
The water steamed down on me, warm, wet, and heavy taking the blood and my stress with it.
I swallowed softly, watching as the blood was washed down the drain; an inescapably stark contrast to the white of the tub.
... You like it, don't you? Bakura murmured coyly. ... You don't have to say anything, your body loves to talk for you.
"Shut up." I flushed, turning away irritably.
... No. He muttered darkly. ... You shut up.
Just like that I felt my treacherous right hand clamp over my mouth, shoving my head back into the tile roughly.
Muttering darkly against the oddly foreign feel of my own hand I tired to lift my left to intercede only to find that it to was no longer under my control as it flattened firmly against my abs, shoving the rest of me up against the cool slickness of tile as well.
... Shh. He whispered playful, the hand at my stomach lifting up and delicately brushing a soaked blond lock from my cheek.
I groaned, unable to help but react at how good that felt on my wear and aching body.
... That's right. Bakura echoed, running those fingers through my hair sinfully as my right hand kept my trembling mouth prisoner. ... You were a good boy today, Marik. So helpful.
... Let me help you.
He pulled loose my fingers from my hair, leaving only the middle which he traced delicately down my cheek causing me to tremble deliciously as my wanton arousal grew.
Lower that middle finger traced, teasing my the right side of my neck and side, pausing to swirl playfully around my nipple before making me arch wildly as it found that sensual cleft in my side as my right hand muffled my desperate begging.
... Just do it already! I cried out from within, arching against the now sweaty hotness of the tiles behind me as water beat down painfully on my member. ... Stop fucking around and just fuck me!
... Well. He murmured, tracing a light circle against my pubic line causing me to arch into him with a frustrated and wanting groan. ...Since you asked so nicely.
... Oh! I muttered, my eyes closing blissfully as I finally felt my left hand close around shaft. ... Fuck yeah.
I'm not sure I can describe to you dear reader exactly how amazing the following actions felt.
Imagine if you will, the touch of your own hand. Familiar, skilled. It knows you, your body, your so-called "erogenous" zones.
Now, imagine this mixed with the clever technique of another. And imagine if you will that this other has had roughly 5000 years or so to "perfect" said technique.
Now imagine, that he REALLY wants to make you cum.
I explain this to you dear readers, so that you can properly appreciate how little time this all took. I could not tell you if he had me in three delicious strokes, or thirty.
No, I can only tell you that he had me.
Oh yes, he had me...
And he fucking knew it.
I remembered the feel of my hand pressed against my lips as I mumbled his name desperately into it over and over and over and then he let go; just to hear the sound of his name pour from my lips as I exploded within "his" hand.
My right hand now my own I gripped desperately at the tile for support as my body convulsed, reality coming back to me in the form of a now cold shower.
"You did good, Marik." I heard my voice mutter aloud as I panted for air. Great, now he could take my voice as well. "I think from now on we can actually be partners, you and I."
... And don't worry. He whispered, my right hand lifting itself up and brushing my wet hair from my face once more. ... I'll make it worth your while.
I felt my right hand fall limp, then his presence was gone and the hand wrapped around on my soft and used cock was all my own.