Teenage Jail

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. But I wasn't kidding about the quarters.

Socks are the bane of smut. I hate the socks. This takes place a month after last chapter.
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"I guess every form of refuge has its price....
You can't hide your lying eyes,
And your smile is a thin disguise."

-- The Eagles, "Lyin' Eyes"

Bakura blinked awake, then sat up and rubbed his eyes. The sharp rapping noise came to his ears again, and Bakura pushed aside the blanket and stood up. "Father?" he asked, speaking mostly to himself as he walked out into the living room.

Since it was so late, Bakura actually remembered to check out the peephole before opening the door. He blinked when he couldn't see anyone in the immediate area, then glanced from side to side. He blinked again when he spotted someone with blond hair leaning against the wall to the right.

A second later, Bakura undid the lock and shoved the door open. "Malik-kun?"

Malik reached out and grabbed Bakura's collar, pulling him forward slightly. Bakura made a surprised noise, but when Malik didn't find the cord of the Sennen Ring around the other teen's neck, he let go.

Bakura rubbed his throat absently and gave Malik a startled look. "Malik-kun, what happened to your face?!"

Malik strode into the apartment in lieu of answering, and Bakura pulled the door shut behind them. "Malik-kun...."

"I ran into someone who was apparently one of my old Ghouls. It wasn't a good reunion." Malik was staring into the living room with his back to Bakura, but the other teen could hear the brittle smirk in his voice.

"Oh," Bakura said quietly. "They...they're still around? In Domino?" Malik lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, but didn't bother to reply. Bakura frowned at that. "Malik-kun, this is serious. If those people are still in the city, you shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

Malik's shoulders tightened, but a moment later he made a harsh laughing noise. "Of course I shouldn't be here. I don't know what the hell brought me back." He jerked around and started to move toward the door, but Bakura caught his arm.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to sound rude. I didn't mean here-here, I meant in Domino. I mean....It's just--you surprised me. You've been gone all month, and then you show up...." Bakura shook his head. "Is this the first time it's happened?"

Malik just stared at him, eyes cold. Bakura waited a few moments for an answer, then pushed the darker teen's arm lightly, trying to move him away from the door. "Here, sit down and I'll get something for the scratches."

Malik didn't move, so Bakura let go and walked to the bathroom, hoping that he wouldn't leave.

Listening for the sound of the door closing, Bakura picked up a bottle of peroxide and a clean washcloth, but he couldn't find any gauze or tape. After a quick search, he decided that what he had would have to be enough and returned to the living room.

Bakura gave the empty room an unhappy look before spotting Malik's boots near the kitchen. He walked inside and smiled slightly when he saw the Egyptian leaning against the counter. It faded quickly at Malik's dark expression. "Um, this would be a little easier if you sit down. Then...or, well, it doesn't matter."

Malik gave him a slow blink before reaching out and hooking a foot around the leg of one of the kitchen chairHe jHe jerked it away from the table slightly and then sprawled out, an imitation king on a fake throne.

Bakura recognized the pose, knew the mood behind it, and opened the bottle in silence.

He poured some of the peroxide onto the cloth, then set the bottle on the table and bent a knee to dab the scraped skin along Malik's cheek. The blond hissed at the sting, then clenched his jaw and glared over Bakura's shoulder.

Bakura moved as gently as he could, but there were flakes of grit in the cuts that wouldn't come out unless he rubbed at them. Bakura guessed that someone had slammed Malik's face into a wall to cause the damage, but he didn't dare asking.

"We don't have the money to move," Malik said suddenly. "Not yet. We need to get a check from another museum that wants Isis' exhibit."

"Oh," Bakura said. Malik went silent again.

The skin below Malik's eye was beginning to bruise. He touched it lightly with the cloth, but doubted the peroxide would do anything.

"We don't have any steak," Bakura said quietly, "but there's a package of frozen vegetables that might help this."

"I don't need it," Malik said shortly.

Bakura looked down. "Okay."

After a few more minutes of cleaning, Bakura frowned. "I think you shouldh yoh your face, to get some of this grit out. The peroxide might do more good then."

"Fine."

He didn't move, though, and the other teen continued wiping at the flecks of dried blood. Bakura stared at the scratches as he worked, not looking at Malik's eyes. "...Where have you been all month?" he asked finally.

Malik shifted his gaze enough to look at him from the corner of his eye. "Since when do I answer to you?"

"You promised you wouldn't go away."

Malik was quiet for a long time before saying, "Do you really not know, or are you just playing the innocent idiot again? You're so good at it, I can't tell at times." He jerked up out of his seat and left the kitchen. Bakura set the washrag on the table by the bottle and pushed the chair back in before following him to the bathroom.

Malik was splashing water on his face, a slight grimace showing that the wounded area was still tender. Bakura leaned against the wall beside the door and gripped his arms across his stomach.

"You should give the Ring to Yuugi," Malik said flatly.

Bakura stiffened and gave him a hard look. "It's not Yuugi-kun's, it's mine," he said, automatically putting a hand to his chest. Malik noticed the move and tensed before remembering that he'd already checked.

He glared down at the sink. "No, it's the Pharaoh's," Malik replied, the old bitterness creeping back into his voice. "So you might as well hand it over, because he'll get it in the end anyway."

"It's mine," Bakura repeated, before lowering his hand and watching Malik dry off his face, gingerly patting the scrapes. A moment later, he asked in a quiet voice, "What happened?"

Malik lowered the towel enough to glare at him in the mirror.

Bakura shook his head. "I don't know, Malik-kun. It didn't say anything." Bakura lifted a hand to his shoulder. "I just woke up and found the knife. What did you--"

He was cut off by Malik twisting around to face him. "Me?!" He threw the towel at the floor and grabbed Bakura's arms, slamming him against the wall. "Why is that all I hear from you people, what did I do?! It wasn't my fault! I thought you were safe!"

Bakura looked at him, eyes wide, trying not to wince at the harsh grip on his arms. "Who, what? What are--?"

"Oh, shut up!" Malik growled, smashing his lips against Bakura's and causing his head to bang against the plaster. He pushed his tongue out, but when the other teen was too startled to open his mouth, Malik bit his lip.

Bakura made a sharp pained noise, and Malik forced his way inside. Bakura attempted to knock the Egyptian away, and Malik slid his hands down Bakura's arms to his wrists. He tugged the paler teen forward slightly, before wrenching the wrists behind his back and gripping them in one hand. He slid his free hand under the t-shirt Bakura had worn to bed, shoving him back against the wall again and trapping his arms. Bakura whimpered as Malik yanked the shirt up his chest and pushed against him, the action pressing his arms uncomfortably between the wall and his flesh.

When the darker teen pulled back to breathe, Bakura hissed, "Malik-kun, stop!" Malik glowered at him, and Bakura took a second to inhale before continuing in a quieter, calming voice. "Please. You're scaring me. Don't."

Something shifted in Malik's eyes at that. A second later, he let go of Bakura's wrists and leaned heavily against the paler teen, face hidden in Bakura's shoulder.

Bakura felt his pulse begin to slow to normal again, and started to wrap his arms around Malik's waist. The blond gripped his wrist again as soon as Bakura moved, however, making his stomach clench. He gave the counter a desperate look, trying to think of some way to placate the other teenager.

His eyes fell on the same random, now quarter-empty, bottle of hand lotion. Bakura looked at it for a second, before closing his eyes and dropping his shoulders slightly. Malik stirred at that, and Bakura opened his eyes again and carefully placed his free hand on the Egyptian's side. "Hey," he said with a soft smile, "can I brush my teeth? You woke me up--morning breath and all. The taste is starting to get bad."

Malik pulled back a moment later and looked at him. Bakura ran his fingers along the other teen's jaw below the scrapes and flicked his thumb at one of the earrings, the only jewelry Malik still wore these days. "I'll be out in a second, okay?" he asked.

Malik's expression was still unreadable, but at least he wasn't so angry anymore, Bakura was glad to see. The blond pushed himself away with a "Yeah" and walked out of the bathroom.

Bakura tugged his shirt back down and leaned against the wall before sinking down to sit on the floor. His hand moved unconsciously to his chest, then gently touched the bleeding area of his lip before drifting back to join the other one hugging his knees.

After taking several deep breaths and calming down, Bakura stood up and walked over to the sink to brush his teeth.

He entered his bedroom a few minutes later, the bottle half-hidden in his hand, and saw Malik leaning against the wall with his hands curled into fists at his side. He was glaring at the Sennen Ring sitting on Bakura's desk, where the paler boy had set it before going to sleep, since the pointers weren't the most comfortable things to rest on. Bakura walked over and leaned against Malik's side.

Malik tensed, then turned and grabbed Bakura's arm, pulling him into a kiss and causing him to hiss at the stinging sensation. A moment later, however, Bakura made himself open his mouth and run his tongue over the bottom of Malik's lip. Malik made a noise in the back of his throat, before pulling Bakura closer and shoving the hem of the t-shirt up again.

Malik pushed Bakura away long enough to pull the shirt over his head. Then he turned and threw it onto the desk, hiding the Ring from sight.

Bakura noted the action and swallowed, not wanting to think any more about the question Malik hadn't verbally answered. He moved forward and untucked the blond's shirt, sliding his hands under the fabric and up the darker teen's torso. He stopped when he reached the shoulders and gripped them, pulling Malik into another kiss and wincing when he hit his lip again.

Malik placed a hand against Bakura's abdomen, feeling the muscles jump as he ran his fingers lightly over the skin. Malik kept the teasing movements up for a bit until he pulled back to breathe. Then he suddenly pushed his hand beneath the elastic of the pajama pants and wrapped around Bakura, stroking harshly.

The other teenager keened in surprise and thrust into Malik's hand, pressing their hips together. Malik grabbed his waist and pulled him as close as possible, but wound up trapping his hand in the action. Bakura moaned at the lack of stimulus and rocked harder against him.

With a strangled noise, Malik moved back enough to remove his hand, making Bakura whimper. The blond grabbed Bakura's waist and guided him across the floor, stopping only when they hit the end of the bed. He pushed Bakura down and climbed over him before the other teen could react.

Malik pulled off his own shirt and threw it in the vicinity of the floor, then leaned over and caught Bakura's lower lip between his teeth. He rubbed his tongue against the cut and smirked when he heard Bakura's small pained sound. Malik reached down and jerked on the band of the other teen's pants, pushing them almost to his knees.

"Oh!" Bakura moved back suddenly. "Wait, I dropped...the...it's over, um...."

"Yeah, yeah." Malik moved off of him, then slid over the bed and picked up the bottle that had fallen to the floor earlier. Bakura hesitated as he watched, then pushed his pants the rest of the way off, curling up slightly as he did.

Malik climbed over the bed again and pushed a knee between Bakura's legs, pressing his shoulders so the paler teen was lying flat on the bed. Bakura lifted his hands and ran them over Malik's stomach, before moving lower and opening his jeans.

Malik dropped his head to Bakura's shoulder to kiss the skin there and made an encouraging noise at that, and some of the heaviness Bakura had been feeling lifted. Sliding his hands underneath, he worked the jeans and boxers off Malik's hips and pushed them as far down as he could.

Malik shifted and kicked the material away, then pulled off his socks and threw the bundle onto the floor. He leaned down to kiss Bakura again, groping for the bottle with one hand. Once he got the cap open, Malik sat back and squeezed the lotion into his palm, then rubbed his hands together. When he felt the hand on his arm, he frowned and looked up at Bakura's apprehensive expression.

Bakura had enough common sense not to willingly put himself at the mercy of the Egyptian's angry side, so he rubbed Malik's arm gently and tried to make his tone soothing. "I...it's too fast. Can I just...touch you? For a little while?"

Malik stared down at him, then shook Bakura's hand away. He ran his hand down the other teen's arm, then pressed Bakura's shoulder against the sheet and leaned to kiss him. Bakura relaxed into the sheet and ran his palms along Malik's stomach, following the hard lines there. After a few moments, Malik pulled away and moved his hand down, before abruptly pushing two fingers inside the paler teen.

Bakura cried out and tried instinctively to twist away, but Malik leaned more weight on his shoulder. The blond slid around for a moment, before finding the spot he was looking for and pressing it.

Bakura bucked his hips up sharply, one hand clenching the sheet while the other gripped Malik's arm tightly. Malik smirked at that and continued massaging the bump, watching as Bakura tried to push himself into closer contact to get enough friction. After listening to the paler teen's wordless moans for a little while, Malik moved his mouth down to Bakura's shoulder again, still working his fingers. Bakura sighed happily at that and began thrusting upwards, rubbing his erection against the darker teen's stomach.

Malik pressed his lips to the small, nearly faded scar on Bakura's shoulder that he had made a month ago, then ran his teeth over it, not gently. Bakura was too distracted to notice.

The paler teen rocked harder against Malik, then gasped sharply. A moment later, Malik felt warm liquid spill across his stomach, and Bakura slumped into the bed, eyes shut and breath shallow. Malik pulled his fingers out and rubbed the leftover lotion across his erection, and then lifted Bakura's hips, positioning himself.

Bakura was too out of it to notice Malik's movements, until he felt the blond pressing against him. Then he forced his eyes open in alarm. "Wait--"

Malik slid in with one movement, pushing fully inside and disregarding Bakura's strangled cry of pain. He dropped his head to bite at the scar again, and rocked his hips once before pulling back and thrusting forward again.

As Malik began moving, Bakura lifted a hand to his mouth and bit down hard, trying to keep quiet. The other one was gripping Malik's arm tightly enough to bruise. Bakura broke the skin of his hand when Malik pushed into him too hard one time, and pressed his back as deep against the bed as he could in an attempt to get away.
ura ura jerked upwards when one of Malik's motions hit the spot he had been manipulating earlier and his teeth accidentally sank further into his hand, drawing out a groan. He started twisting, trying to make the other teen to touch the same place again.

Laughing under his breath, Malik lifted his head to look at Bakura. He blinked several times, and then his eyes widened as he stared at the paler teen's hand and the drops of blood trailing down it. Too caught up in the feeling to stop, Malik nevertheless reached up and grabbed Bakura's wrist, tugging the hand away from his mouth and pinning it down to the mattress.

Bakura whimpered and arched his hips up against Malik's movements. "There! Please, there, it feels better like that, please--"

"Yeah," Malik said, cutting him off and pressing his lips gently against Bakura's, avoiding the sore spot, "okay, okay. Better?" He clenched one hand in the sheet and forced himself to slow down a little.

Bakura made a soft sound and pushed back against him, so Malik made an effort to keep his rhythm the same.

With Bakura continuing to rock against him, Malik soon stiffened, before cursing under his breath as he came. He managed to get his thoughts together, then reached down and started stroking Bakura's erection. He lifted Bakura's wrist from the bed with his free hand, and brought it to his mouth to lick the blood away. The paler teen hissed at that but thrust up into his hand, coming soon after.

While Bakura lay there panting, Malik braced himself on his forearms and pulled out, causing the other teen's face to twist up in a grimace. Malik noticed and hesitated for a second, before lying down and resting the unscraped side of his face on Bakura's shoulder. He didn't offer an apology, and Bakura didn't ask for one.

A long time later, Bakura reached up and placed a hand on the arm across his chest. "...I'm glad you came back, Malik-kun," he said quietly.

Malik didn't open his eyes. "Where else is there to go?" he replied, half bitter and half empty.

Bakura rubbed his thumb along the skin of Malik's arm, and didn't reply. There was another long pause, and then Malik said, "Give the Ring to Yuugi."

Bakura hesitated for a bit, then nodded. "Okay."

Malik relaxed slightly at that, and soon Bakura partially sat up and tugged the blanket over them.

Much later, into the wee hours of the morning, Bakura's eyes opened. Moving as slowly as he could so not to jostle the blond, he started to edge out from beneath Malik's arm. It took him almost twenty minutes, because he stopped every time he thought he heard Malik shift or begin to wake up. Finally, though, he slid out from under the blanket and stood up.

Bakura walked quietly over to the desk and stared down at it. Then he glanced over at the door to roomroom, and nodded slightly when he saw it was open.

Bakura picked up the shirt Malik had thrown over the Sennen Ring and tossed it at the floor. Then he opened his closet and took out a new shirt. He wrapped it around the Ring, taking extra care not to let any of the pointers hit each other and make a noise. When the Ring was covered, Bakura stood on his toes and reached for one of the shoeboxes that sat on the small shelf at the top of his closet. He picked out an empte, te, then set the Ring inside it and hid the box among the others, being as quiet as humanly possible.

Bakura slid the closet door shut, then walked over to the desk and scattered a few more of the things on it, shoving the clock to the other end and pushing the sheets of paper he had left out to the floor. Then he glanced over at Malik.

The Egyptian was still asleep, so Bakura tugged on his pajama pants and walked out, going to the living room window. He pushed it open slowly, so it wouldn't creak, then stepped back and looked at it. He frowned, then pulled it mostly shut, leaving just enough of a crack to be apparent.

Bakura glanced at his hand and thought about washing it, then decided that it would be harder to explain if he did. Instead he walked into the bedroom, took off his pants and set them in the same area and general position they had been in, and cautiously slid back into his bed.

Malik didn't stir, so Bakura lifted his arm and draped it back over his chest. A few moments later, he fell asleep with a small, contented s.
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