The Path of Vengeance

**I own nothin!

Tristan tried to keep as calm as possible as he watched his lover irritably pacing the bedroom. “Seto, please,” he said gently. “Come sit with me.”

Kaiba turned to see the brunette perched on the edge of the bed. “Tris, now really isn’t the time. I don’t want to take it out on you.”

“Why are you so angry?”

The CEO shook his head. “You don’t want to know,” he replied.

“Baby, don’t shut me out. What’s going on?”

“I’m pissed,” Kaiba snapped. “I’ve never let anyone get away with talking to me the way he did.”

Tristan’s jaw dropped. “You’re pissed because Yugi told you off? Are you fucking crazy?”

Kaiba stopped dead in his tracks. “I beg your pardon?”

The brunette didn’t flinch. “You’re serious. Oh my god, Seto, what the hell is wrong with you? What did you expect? That Yugi would cower before you? You made it possible for Bakura to nearly kill him! You’re lucky that he didn’t have Yami take you out completely.”

“Is that right…?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” Kaiba spat out.

“Oh and why wouldn’t he?”

“First of all I’ve done nothing to him directly. Secondly he’d better know not to fuck with Seto Kaiba.”

“You are not invincible! How would you feel if Yami conspired with Bakura to kidnap and rape me?”

Ice blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not laughing.”

“I’m not either.”

Kaiba took a deep breath. He was about to speak again when Kenji came through the door.

“Excuse me, Sir,” he said. “Mr. Freling is on the line. He says it is urgent.”

Kaiba held out his hand and took the cellular phone. “Kaiba,” he stated.

“Mr. Kaiba, I’ve located Bakura and his companion,” the investigator announced.

“Where?”

“They are in Los Angeles, California.”

Kaiba very nearly smiled. He lowered the phone and turned to Kenji. “Contact Mr. Griffin in L.A. Tell him to ready the jet.” Kenji nodded. The CEO returned the phone to his ear. “I want them here by tomorrow night at the absolute latest.”

“Mr. Kaiba-”

“I’m not interested in your excuses. Either you get them on that jet or I’ll find someone who can.”

A thick pause followed. Finally Mr. Freling spoke again. “Very well,” he said, more than a hint of defeat in his voice. “Tomorrow night. I expect my payment ready and in full when I arrive.”

“You won’t receive one cent until I am certain that the job is done to my satisfaction.” He snapped the phone shut and handed it back to the guard who immediately stepped out of the room to fulfill his employer’s request. “Bakura and Marik will be delivered here by nightfall tomorrow,” he said to Tristan.

“I heard.”

“That’s good news in case you were wondering.”

Tristan nodded with a sigh. “It is,” he said. After a moment he stood up. “I’m going to check on Mokuba.”

Kaiba grabbed his arm as he walked by. “You’re going just like that?”

“Yes.”

“We were having a discussion.”

The brunette shook his head. “No we weren’t. You were forcing me to listen to your selfish bullshit.”

“What the hell do you want, Tristan?” Kaiba snapped. “So I’m a heartless bastard! Isn’t that what all of your little friends have been telling you for years?”

Flecks of red began to drift across Tristan’s line of vision. Anger flowed through his veins. “Let me go, Seto,” he growled, deliberately peeling the millionaire’s fingers from his arm.

“You’re leaving me?” Kaiba asked.

“Don’t do that,” Tristan snapped. “I’m not leaving you. But I can’t be around you right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m fighting really hard not to smack you in the mouth.”

“What’s stopping you?” Kaiba asked arrogantly.

“The fact that there are fifty of your flunkies out there willing to beat the shit out of me at your command,” Tristan spat back.

“I would never do that to you, and you know it,” Kaiba retorted.

“Maybe not to me but what about Bakura and Marik?”

Kaiba stammered for a moment before glaring back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve made arrangements to have them brought back here but then what? Are you going to have them killed?”

The CEO blinked. “I haven’t even thought that far ahead.”

“That’s bullshit, Seto. You’ve never done anything without sitting down and running through every possible scenario at least a half dozen times.”

Kaiba backed his lover into the corner of the room near the door. “What if I did tell you I was going to have them executed?”

Tristan’s eyes blazed. “Then you’d have a boyfriend who had absolutely no respect for you and remained by your side out of obligation only.”

Kaiba scoffed. “I’m going back to work,” he said suddenly.

“…what…?”

“I’m going back to work,” he said again. “Have a nice night.” He yanked open the door and stormed out, slamming it behind him.

“And when you grabbed him by the collar I almost shit myself,” Malik managed through fits of unbridled laughter.

Yugi giggled. “I bet it looked pretty ridiculous,” he said. “But I was pissed.”

“Oh no,” the Egyptian corrected. “It was perfect. He didn’t know what the fuck to do!”

Their laughter cut through the relative silence of the house. A few seconds later they heard Yami’s bedroom door open.

The pharaoh appeared in the doorway clad in only a pair of red silk boxer shorts. “Malik would you please shut up,” he snapped. “You’re keeping us awake.”

Malik laughed again. “That hickey on your neck tells another story,” he quipped.

Yugi covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile

Yami narrowed his eyes. “Just keep it down,” he said, turning to leave.

“By the way, nice shorts,” Malik jabbed. “Do they come in men’s?”

An audible growl was heard from Yami as he left the room.

“Grab the TV,” suggested Yugi as he slowly rose, picking up the drinks and various snacks from the table.

“Huh? The TV? What for?” questioned Malik as he stood up.

“Just do it and stop whining,” Yugi responded with a smile.

Malik unplugged the television and picked it up with a groan. “Now what?”

Follow me,” Yugi replied, leading the way to his bedroom. “We’ll be able to make as much noise as we want in here and Yami won’t be temped to kick your ass in the morning,” he added with a smile.

“Yeah cause I’m really worried about that,” Malik replied sarcastically, looking over his shoulder. “Where do you want me to put this?”

“Over there on the dresser,” Yugi said, setting down the refreshments before tossing the blankets and pillows from the bed to the chair in the corner.

Malik plugged in the television and focused his attention on the smaller teen, watching as Yugi pulled the mattress from the bed with the greatest of care and the bare minimum of exertion to his sore body, raising an eyebrow as it fell to the floor. Once that was accomplished he arranged the pillows and blankets on it and smiled. “What the fuck are you doing?” the Egyptian asked.

Yugi puffed out his small chest. “I built us a nest,” he said proudly.

“A nest?” Malik repeated. “Don’t you think that’s rushing it just a little? I like you and all but I’m not ready to go pick out china.”

Yugi laughed. “Not that kind of nest,” he said. “It’s a place to relax and watch TV.”

Malik shook his head. “You’re strange, you know that?”

“I may be strange but at least I’ll be comfortable.” He burrowed beneath the blankets.

The blonde chuckled and turned off the light before crawling in beside Yugi. “Comfy,” he confirmed.

Yugi smiled and waited for the Egyptian to get settled before reclaiming his place in the crook of his arm. He picked up the remote and turned on the television. “Oh gods,” he laughed. “Its one of those skanky talk shows.”

Malik laughed. “These are great,” he said. “Isis and I watch them sometimes when she gets home from work late.”

Silence fell as they became absorbed in the program, laughter resounding at regular intervals as they watched.

“Pass me the pop corn, would you?” Yugi asked a few moments later.

Malik peered at the younger teen out of the corner of his eye. “Do I look like your bitch?” he responded with a chuckle.

Yugi rose to the unspoken challenge. “Um, there’s no one else around so yeah I guess so.”

Malik grabbed the popcorn and was about to hand it over when the teen spoke again.

"While you’re at it you can hand me another drink too?” Yugi smiled. “Bitch.”

“Now you’re pushing it,” Malik responded, tossing the bowl at him. “And I got your bitch right here.”

Yugi picked up a handful of popcorn and tossed it at Malik. “A bit small for a bitch from what I saw.”

“Saw? When did you see?” the blonde questioned, one eyebrow cocked.

“The other day when you felt the need to relieve yourself so bad that you forgot to close the door,” Yugi responded with a smile.

“Forgot? I don’t forget. Just figure it’s a waste of time. I have to come out after I’m done anyway.” Malik retorted. “See anything you liked?”

Yugi turned red at this question.

Malik noticed Yugi’s embarrassment and decided to see how far he could push it. “Care to match up and see who’s the right size to be whose bitch?”

Yugi could feel his face flush and turn red all over again. “Nah, I want to sleep tonight and having you crying next to me would prevent it.”

The blonde burst out laughing. “Pretty bold words from someone who barely clears four feet tall.”

Yugi was quick on the draw. “Let me put it this way,” he said. “I reach the same height when lying flat on my back!”

Malik choked on a mouthful of soda. “God damn, Yugi! This I gotta see!” He pulled the blankets over his head and began shifting positions.

Yugi blinked. “Wait! I was kidding!” he laughed.

Malik resurfaced. “Couldn’t find it,” he said with a smirk.

“You suck,” Yugi chuckled.

The blonde raised a lecherous eyebrow. “Only in self defense.”

A short pause came from both as they met eyes. An instant later they burst into another fit of laughter.

Yami stepped back into his bedroom and shut the door, effectively cutting off Malik’s smart ass comments. “That asshole, I like these shorts,” Yami growled under his breath.

Ryou lifted his head from the pillow. “What? What’s wrong with your shorts?”

“I guess they just look too damn good on me,” Yami answered, starting to feel better looking at the smiling face of his boyfriend.

“They would look better lying on the floor,” Ryou responded coyly.

The pharaoh did a double take, redness creeping over his features. “Awfully bold,” he noted.

Ryou nodded his head, gesturing to the rumpled pile on the floor next to the bed. “Mmm hmm.”

On closer inspection Yami realized that the mound was indeed Ryou’s pajamas. He lifted an eyebrow and started to climb into bed with his nude lover.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Ryou asked, tugging at the waistband of Yami’s shorts.

Blood rushed into the spirit’s face. “Are you asking for a show?” he asked, a hint of playfulness entering his voice.

“A show? Are you going to dance for me?” Ryou poked back.

The pharaoh chuckled. “My style of dancing I’m sure is nothing like what you’d expect.”

This piqued the teen’s interest. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’ve seen your music videos,” Yami replied. “I am most definitely not ‘Bootylicious’.”

Ryou grinned. “How do you dance?”

Yami cast a sidelong glance at Ryou and chuckled quietly. “Well you asked for it,” he said, starting to sway from left to right, moving in a way that he hoped resembled dancing.

Ryou moved his hands to his mouth in an attempt to disguise his amusement. “Not bad,” he chuckled through his fingers.

Yami had to laugh at himself, thinking: Gods, I hope I didn’t forget to lock the door. “I warned you,” he said, smiling at his lover.

Ryou watched, fully aware of his own state of arousal at seeing Yami move around and dance for him. “Take it off,” he whispered, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

“I’m getting to that,” Yami responded, plodding through his routine. He had to wonder though if his attempt at seduction was being taken as such or having the opposite effect. “Oh, screw it,” he mumbled. In one fluid movement he stripped down to nothing and dove under the covers, cursing when his cast hit the side of the mattress. “That was a lot sexier in my head,” he admitted.

“That was so hot,” Ryou jested. He picked up the wounded appendage and brought the swollen fingers to his lips, kissing them gently. “Better?”

Yami paused as though considering. “I don’t know,” he responded. “Maybe you’d better try again to be sure.”

Ryou, still holding the wounded hand of his lover, brought it to his lips again and started to kiss his fingers more suggestively. He then moved up his arm stopping to kiss every few inches as he went, until he reached Yami’s shoulder and neck.

Yami could feel himself getting warmer at his lovers gentle touch.

Ryou continued his path to Yami’s neck pausing at the nape of his neck to gently bite then kiss before moving on, coming ever closer to his goal.

Yami tensed at Ryou’s touch, whispering impassioned words of encouragement in a voice thickly laden with yearning. His uninjured hand tangled in the teen’s dark hair, desperate for something to hold on to. Earlier that day he’d been trembling furiously as a result of nervousness but now it was nonexistent. Every touch, caress, each time Ryou’s lips made contact with his heated flesh, all of it seemed to be working together in a rhythmic harmony that left no room for shame, anxiety, or feelings of inadequacy.

Ryou released his hold on the pharaoh’s hand, sliding his arms around his slim waist in an attempt to gain more contact. “Yami, please,” he pleaded, not entirely understanding the frenzy of emotions and desires battling for dominance within.

Yami smiled gently. “Don’t worry, love,” he soothed. “It’s been awhile but I think I remember what to do.”

The pale teen returned the smile, his lover’s words putting him immediately at ease. “I want this,” he whispered shyly. “I want you.”

Another hoarse moan passed through the pharaoh’s lips. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his knuckles brushing over one pale cheek.

Ryou shook his head, dark eyes painted almost black with longing. “What am I doing?”

Yami briefly closed his eyes. He’d had dozens of lovers and concubines during his reign as Pharaoh but not one of them held his heart the way Ryou did. The teen’s willing innocence and obvious desire set his blood aflame. He grasped his lover’s waist and rolled onto his back, Ryou straddling him. He pressed his hips upward, grinding their erections together. “Can’t you tell?”

Ryou inhaled sharply at the contact, instinctually mirroring the movement. “Gods, Yami…” He shifted position slightly and boldly claimed the spirit’s lips with his own.

The initiative was not unwelcome. The pharaoh immediately granted the teen access, inviting his smooth tongue inside and latching on to it with all of the ferocity of a starving infant.

Diminutive mewls caught in the teen’s throat, his hands kneading the heated flesh of the spirit’s chest. The sensations being caused by the friction down below orchestrated the rest of his body, causing him to writhe and moan with increased urgency.

“Ryou,” Yami said, pulling back. “Stop moving…please.”

The teen immediately complied. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Yami bit his lower lip. “No,” he said after a moment. “It’s a little too right.”

Comprehension set in and Ryou smiled sensually. “You mean this?” he asked, pumping his hips in an easy yet purposeful rhythm.

The pharaoh hissed, his able hand clutching the sheet. “Love, please,” he begged.

Ryou dipped down and ran his tongue over the spirit’s parted lips, his lower body never breaking its stride. “You’re so sexy,” he whispered, his cheeks tinged pink. “I can’t believe I waited so long for this.”

Yami growled, flipping them quickly so Ryou landed flat on his back. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded rapidly in assent. He reached behind his head, beneath the pillows, and brought back a small tube of lubricant. “Here,” he said, handing it to the pharaoh.

Yami raised an eyebrow. “Where did you get this?” he questioned.

Ryou winked. “Your nightstand. It was on top the March issue of Male Call.”

The spirit had the decency to blush. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” the pale teen whispered. “I don’t mind. In fact I find it rather erotic.”

Yami wrinkled his nose. “No it’s not.”

Ryou reached between them and grasped himself, stroking methodically. “This doesn’t turn you on?”

Yami could swear his cock swelled another two impossible inches. “Oh Ra,” he breathed. “Ryou, you can’t know what that does to me.”

Ryou’s grip tightened, Yami’s deep, melodic voice urging him on. “Why don’t you show me then…”

Yami opened the tube and positioned it between the swollen fingers of his right hand, carefully squeezing a generous amount onto his left, which he flexed and moved until his fingers were coated. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he breathed huskily.

“I will,” Ryou agreed, his body trembling in nervous anticipation. Yami set the tube aside and offered him his cast-covered hand. The pale teen carefully laced his fingers through the pharaoh’s and held his breath.

Yami’s other hand traveled down until it found its destination. “Relax, love,” he urged. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

Ryou nodded and released his lungful of air. He forced his body to comply with his lover’s wishes and gasped as Yami gently eased one finger inside. It burned slightly but the pleasure it caused far outweighed any discomfort.

The spirit kept his eyes trained on his boyfriend’s face, watching for any sign of distress. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, even without any sort of contact on his member. It had been far too long. He just didn’t have that kind of restraint any longer. As soon as he dared he added another finger, cautiously stretching and preparing the virgin entrance.

Small whimpers made their way past Ryou’s lips. “Yami,” he whimpered. “Please...do it…”

Yami’s eyes widened slightly. He pressed a third finger into the impossibly tight cavern, moaning in anticipation. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“You won’t,” Ryou insisted, his head rising off of the pillow. “Please, Yami.”

The pharaoh nodded and brought their lips together quickly. “I’ll do my best to be careful.” He carefully rose onto his knees and grasped his member, coating it in the residual lubricant still present on his hand. Their eyes locked and Yami shifted position, pressing the head of his erection to the teen’s entrance.

Ryou’s legs wrapped around the spirit’s waist and he had to fight not to tighten them, trusting his lover to take the reins. He didn’t have to wait long. Yami pushed forward and he resisted the urge to tense up, instead forcing himself to focus solely on the sensations coursing through him.

Yami, for his part, was showing the utmost in self-control. He used the utmost care, sinking into the teen as slowly as he could, hoping to give Ryou time to adjust to his size. He’d forgotten how amazing it felt to be submerged within another human being.

The pair quickly adapted to the feel of the other’s flesh and Yami initiated a steady pumping rhythm, knowing that neither of them had the self-discipline to hold out for very much longer. He’d have liked to be able to take more time and draw out the delicious torment but it just wasn’t feasible.

“Yami…gods…so good,” Ryou panted, his hips thrusting up to match the driving force of his lover.

Yami nodded, claiming Ryou’s lips in a scorching kiss. He couldn’t get enough of his boyfriend’s taste. Every thrust he made propelled him closer to completion. He reached between their bodies and grasped his lover’s cock, pumping hurriedly.

Ryou’s eyes flew open and his head jerked back, allowing him to inhale sharply. He bucked his hips instinctually, inadvertently impaling himself further on the pharaoh’s member. “Yes,” he cried out. “Yami, please…” Before he could even register what was happening he was plunged into the throes his orgasm, coating his stomach and Yami’s hand in the milky fluid.

That was the final straw for the pharaoh. With an untamed howl he erupted, shooting a ferocious load deep within Ryou’s quivering inner walls. It was the strongest climax he’d ever experienced. It seemed endless, pulling him to new and greater heights, higher than any he’d ever known. When finally he came down and was able to open his eyes the sight that greeted him took his breath away.

Ryou looked up at him through half-closed hazy chocolate eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered softly.

Yami carefully disjoined their bodies but didn’t roll away. He placed his hands on the pale cheeks and kissed the teen gently before pulling back to meet his eyes again. “Ryou,” he choked. “You don’t have to thank me. I should be thanking you.”

Ryou smiled. “No need.”

Yami opened his mouth to speak several times but no words would come. He closed his eyes and began again. “I’ve never felt anything like this,” he said. “You compliment me better than even Yugi can.”

Ryou’s eyes misted over as the importance of the statement filtered through. “Yami,” he breathed.

“I love you, Ryou,” Yami said suddenly before his bravery had a chance to escape.

Dark eyes widened. “…what?”

“I love you. I think I have for a long time now.”

The tears that had been forming spilled over the teen’s cheeks and he leaned up, pressing his lips to Yami’s trembling ones. “I’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” he admitted. “I didn’t have the courage to say it to you.”

The pharaoh blinked. “Ryou?”

“I love you, too, Yami,” he said.

Yami crushed their lips together once again, his arms sliding under the teen and pulling him even closer. He’d never have guessed that a moment of pure unadulterated bliss could come in so torrential a time. He’d received an amazing gift and at that moment knew that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to preserve it. Ryou was his. Now and forever. To hell with everyone else.

Marik stood in front of the mirror at the vanity in the bathroom, trying vainly to get an errant spike of blonde hair to lie down. There was no hope.

“Hey, Ishtar! You waiting on a written invitation or what?”

“Just trying to make myself pretty for my bitch!” Marik yelled back.

“Oh gods, we don’t have that kind of time! The restaurant closes in like three hours!”

Marik walked into the main room, his middle finger leading the way. “Well I can see you spent all of thirty seconds in front of the mirror,” he jibed, picking up his new leather wallet and slipping it into his back pocket.

“I’m just naturally gorgeous,” Bakura replied, running a hand through his unruly silver mane. “Let’s go, I’m starving.” He reached for the doorknob but his hand paused inches from its goal. He leaned forward.

“What are you doing, falling in love?” Marik asked, seeing Bakura’s torso inch closer to the door.

“Shh,” Bakura hissed. His senses went into instinctual overdrive, his ears keened to the sound of whispering in the hallway. “Son of a bitch. Marik, get the fuck out of here,” he yelled in ancient Egyptian as the door crashed open.

Over a dozen large men in matching black suits swarmed inside. “Take them alive,” one instructed.

“Get out, Marik!” Bakura shouted. “The window! Go through the window!”

Not one of the men could understand the dead tongue. They’d been instructed to take Bakura at all costs, Marik acting as sort of a bonus. With this knowledge they teamed up and tackled the thief to the ground.

“Bakura!” Marik yelled. “Let him go, you fag-bashing Nazis!”

“God damn it, Marik Ishtar, get the fuck out of here right now!” Bakura yelled, struggling furiously against the multiple hands of his captors.

Marik hesitated, time slowing to a crawl. In the end he broke through the glass of the window, making a very narrow escape by hiding in a trash bin behind the neighboring convenience store, justifying his actions with the thought that if he got away from them he just might be able to help Bakura escape.

Back inside the room Bakura was fitted with a heavy duty pair of metal shackles at the wrists, waist, and ankles. He was blindfolded and carried out of the hotel before being thrown into the trunk of a car, the lid slamming down with finality. He could hear a very satisfied voice just outside.

“Mr. Kaiba? We got him.”

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A/N: A round of thanks is in order for Dabin's uber-assist in this chapter. Love you man!
Sorry for the semi-cliffie...sorta :)