Nothing Quite Like

Title: Nothing Quite Like [3/5]

Author: Angryhamster

Rating: NC-17 [this part NC-17]

Pairing: Seto/Bakura (Bakura/Ryou also implied).

Beta: Whosjeebus

Spoilers: Up to 'Battle City' may be mentioned. Set right after, so nothing
beyond.

Warnings: None to speak of. Unless the dub names bother you, that is.

Disclaimer: I wish that YGO was mine. I really, really do... It's not,
though.

Summary: Bakura takes issue with Seto's work habits, but how is he going
to promote change? In a completely bizarre and twisted way, of course.

Notes: I can't believe this took three months to write. I suck.

*

Seto half-stumbled into his private quarters and shut the door behind him. The
staff had the night off, Mokuba was staying at a friend's house, and Seto was
looking forward to a long shower and an even longer sleep. The last week and
a half had been nothing short of hell: between school and the office, he'd been
working fifteen hour days, leaving the house at six and not returning until
after nine. Then he would spend an hour or so with his brother, followed by
finishing off homework, reading over product reports and sending a slew of emails
before falling into bed in a half-dead stupor.

The latest upgrades to the Kaiba Corp satellite system were due to go live
in less than two weeks, and the project team was massively behind schedule,
and--

No. He had come home early to avoid thinking about this right now-- it wouldn't
do any good, anyway: shy of storming into the office tomorrow, firing everyone,
and attempting to write all two hundred thousand lines of code himself (and
he had considered it), there was absolutely nothing he could do to move the
project along. So, he had exiled himself from the office, and planned to spend
most of the evening in blissful unconsciousness, in the hope that by morning,
he would feel at least a little better.

In fact, once he'd made the arrangements, he'd spent most of the day looking
forward to it: the relaxation, the lack of anything to do, and the solitude...
Which was why he was rather annoyed when he walked into the living room and
found Bakura reclining in one of the chairs, bare feet up on the coffee table,
sipping casually from a glass of wine and flipping idly through a book. Seto's
eyes narrowed further when he spotted the bottle on the table. Was that the
'82 Petrus...? Not only had the bastard broken into his house, but he had apparently
burglarized Seto's private wine cellar as well...

"Bakura. What the fuck-?"

"I was wondering when you'd get home," Bakura said, eyes barely flicking
up from the book before returning to the pages again. It wasn't so much that
Bakura had gotten past security that was the problem (though it certainly did
bother him), it was the familiarity of his demeanour, and his use of the word
'home' that angered Seto the most.

It had been almost two weeks since Seto had seen him, and wondered he briefly
if they were supposed to have a meeting tonight that he'd forgotten. He then
recalled that until eleven o'clock that morning, he had no intention of seeing
home before nine, so it was impossible for him to have arranged any liaison.
So clearly, Bakura had taken it upon himself to arrive uninvited, break in (for
he had certainly never been given a key), and then sneak into Seto's private
quarters... And then he'd had the audacity to make himself at home there
until the CEO had returned from the office. The fact that Bakura was comfortable
enough to wait until such time as Seto returned implied a familiarity that made
the brunet distinctly *un*comfortable, and he bristled.

"Bakura. What the fuck are you doing in my house?"

"Very little," Bakura replied, lazily, finally looking up from the
book and dropping it onto the table. "It's much less interesting without
you here," he said, coyly, a slight smirk twisting his lips. He reached
over the glass of wine and lifted it, offering it to Seto. "Something to
drink? You seem a little... tense."

"Maybe I'm tense because a thief broke into my house, pawed though my
things and is drinking my wine," Seto ground out through clenched teeth.
"How did you get in here?"

"You did bestow that little nickname on me for a reason, remember,"
Bakura chided, rising out of the chair and crossing the room to where Seto was
standing. He handed the brunet the glass, and after a moment Seto took a sip,
eyes still trained on the man before him. "You still look like shit,"
Bakura commented, looking him over critically. "Have you gotten any
sleep in the last week?"

Seto grunted. He took another sip of the wine, frowning. It tasted a little
off; he supposed the spirit hadn't the sense to let it breathe. He sighed internally--
it wasn't as if he'd had any plans to teach Bakura the finer points of wine
appreciation, but if the man did intend to keep coming here alone... Well, then
security at the house would just have to be stepped up, Seto thought, warily.
The last thing he needed was Bakura thinking he had the run of the place.

"I'd intended to get some sleep tonight, not that it's any concern of
yours."

"Hmm... Then you shall have to forgo it, I think," the spirit said,
silkily. "My... concern only extends so far, after all." At that,
Bakura leaned in and kissed him, licking the last drops of wine from the corners
of his mouth, tracing his tongue along the seam of Seto's lips until they parted.
Seto passively allowed himself to be kissed for a few moments, then set the
glass back down on the table beside him, before pulling back and gazing downwards
into dark eyes, clouded with lust and dancing with anticipation and amusement.

Suddenly, Seto fisted his hands in the material of the other's shirtfront,
pushing him roughly and backing him up in the direction of the bedroom, kicking
off his shoes and tugging open his shirt buttons as they went. Bakura glided
along backwards with a grace that was almost uncanny, a faint smile on his lips
as he ran his tongue across them.

"The next time you try to break in here, the guards will have orders to
shoot you on sight."

"They'd have to see me first," Bakura replied smugly, and Seto pushed
him down onto the bed.

"Shut up," Seto muttered, crawling over him. He dropped down for
a kiss; all passivity gone, he ravaged Bakura's mouth with obvious intent, hands
sliding over the spirit's body.

"Do you know this is probably the longest conversation we've ever had...?"
Bakura murmured against his mouth.

"Yes; and the discursive portion of this evening is now over," Seto
growled. "Take this off," he said, tugging at the shirt. The tiredness
must have been finally catching up with him because he was feeling a little
sluggish... However, as he watched the man peel off the t-shirt to expose the
perfect, pale skin underneath, he was prepared to let sleep wait for a little
while.

Giving up on the buttons, he pulled his own shirt over his head, watching as
Bakura's gaze trailed over his body, the flow of his attentions stuttering briefly
over the much-faded bruises from their last encounter. Seto knew what he was
thinking, could see it on the other's face-- the intense and darkly appealing
desire the spirit had to mark him again, but as Bakura reached out to touch
him, Seto caught both his hands and pinned them to the bed amidst curling tendrils
of white hair.

"Not tonight," he growled, leaning down and catching the spirit's
lips with his own, kissing him fiercely. Bakura made a slight sound that might
have been a moan or a laugh, Seto wasn't quite sure, but he could feel the vibrations
against his lips and in his chest where they pressed against each other, and
took it as assent to proceed further. He slid one hand down and over Bakura's
chest, the other still encircling the slighter man's wrists and holding them
in place. The slight hitch of breath he felt beneath his fingers as they danced
patterns across Bakura's stomach was thrilling.

The hitch of breath became a choked-off gasp as Seto's fingers brushed across
the front of Bakura's jeans, tracing the outline of his cock which was pressed
against the fabric. He pulled back to wrestle with the belt, crawling fully
onto the bed and placing his knees either side of Bakura's hips, tugging at
the leather with one hand. It was proving difficult, and the spirit bucked up
underneath him-- for a minute, Seto thought he was trying to get on top, but
Bakura simply moved his hands over Seto's own and skilfully undid the belt and
buttons, lifting his hips enough to be able to tug the jeans down and off.

He wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Seto swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry and his pants constrictive.
He moved to undo them, aware of Bakura's gaze on him as he thumbed open the
button and slid the zipper down slowly, a slight sigh of relief escaping him
as the pressure on his cock lessened. He pushed off both the pants and the silk
boxers underneath, taking the opportunity to stoke himself briefly, enjoying
the look of renewed lust on the spirit's face as he watched.

Bakura had pulled himself up against the headboard and was watching Seto pleasure
himself with hooded eyes.

"...Do I get the impression that I'm on bottom tonight?" he asked.
His faux-innocence should have been cloying, but as irritating as Bakura's coy
demeanour was, Seto found himself inescapably drawn to him.

"You're smarter than you look," Seto replied, aiming to keep the
arousal out of his voice, and mostly succeeding. Bakura laughed nevertheless,
eyes never leaving Seto's body, and reached into one of the drawers on the nightstand.
He removed the lube and set it on the bed beside him, a dark smile playing on
his lips as he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Much as I'm enjoying the show... if I'd just wanted to watch, I could
have done that from outside," he drawled.

His cocky tone, coupled with the realization that the spirit knew exactly where
things were without having to look, revived Seto's earlier irritation; he was
suddenly struck with an irrational bout of childish spite and the drive to do
the exact opposite of what Bakura wanted of him.

"You seem to be forgetting who's in control here."

"...Tonight," Bakura said, that infuriating little smile still twisting
his mouth, and slid one hand down his body to wrap around his cock, stroking
in time with Seto's movements. The sight caused a low flutter in Seto's stomach,
and he grew slightly harder, his heart rate speeding up and sending blood pounding
in his ears and between his legs, swollen flesh jumping under his fingertips.

"Tonight," he agreed, well aware that his tone belied his acceptance
of the statement, giving away his unspoken thought of '...and every other.'

A slight flare of annoyance flashed across the spirit's face, there and gone
in a moment before his expression was controlled; lazily sensual again, perfectly
in keeping with his slouched demeanour. He continued to stroke himself with
one hand, reaching for the lube with the other, flicking the cap open expertly
with his thumbnail.

Seto watched Bakura continue to stroke himself, his motions pausing only briefly
as he squeezed some of the clear gel onto the fingers of his other hand, dipping
them lower to circle his hole. Seto's breath caught in his throat as he watched
the other spread his legs even further and bring his knees up, a slight sigh
escaping his now parted lips. Bakura slid two fingers inside himself, the rhythm
of his stroking faltering as he began to work them in and out. Seto bit his
lip as a sense memory overwhelmed him; his cock twitched as his body recalled
exactly what it felt like to be inside that tight heat. His head was swimming
with lust, and he was almost overcome with desire; the need to pin Bakura's
slender, lithe body to the bed and fuck him through the mattress. Another needy
little sound escaped the spirit, and he tilted his hips slightly, his eyes falling
shut.

"Fuck," Bakura gasped raggedly, eyes fluttering open again, and narrowing,
heated gaze falling on Seto. "Fuck me," he said, voice hoarse
with lust and breathless need, and while it was undoubtedly a demand, there
was just enough of a note of pleading in it to convince Seto to acquiesce.

The strength of his desire seemed to be interfering with his motor control,
so he dropped onto his hands for balance and crawled across the bed, settling
between the other's legs and crashing down on him. His mouth found Bakura's
easily, forcing it open with teeth and tongue, plundering it roughly. Seto grabbed
the spirit's hips and used the leverage to tug him backwards, until Bakura was
settled in his lap. He was still slick from the lube, and Seto pressed his cock
along the cleft of Bakura's ass, thankful for the renewed friction. A small
sound of disgruntled frustration issued from the man sprawled gracefully under
him, and Seto looked downwards, casting a quick glance over the spirit's face
before turning his attentions lower, watching as his cock slid inside his lover.

This was the only time he allowed himself to think of Bakura as his lover:
he didn't love him, couldn't, wouldn't, didn't want to-- but he loved this,
all of it, right down to the muted little of whimper of pain he heard as he
slammed home, sheathing himself fully inside the other's body. It was so damn
good; his nerves were already singing, and he felt almost giddy, light-headed
with pleasure and power. Bakura shifted slightly and Seto tightened his hold
on the spirit's hips, reminding him again who was in charge. He withdrew almost
fully before slamming in again, setting a hard, fast pace and hoping Bakura
didn't have a problem with it, because if he did... If he did, Seto wasn't entirely
sure he could stop.

It had always been good between them, but this was something else, he'd
never felt anything like it; his head was spinning and he was almost dizzy with
the pleasure of it, everything seemed faintly fuzzy at the edges, except for
the insistent throbbing pleasure which seemed to pulse through his body with
every thrust of his hips. It occurred to him that he was rapidly losing control
of himself, but that somehow didn't seem very important, or even vaguely relevant
right now... All that mattered was this; slick sensation, weightless movement
and endless time. He leaned forward to brace himself on one arm, and both heard
and felt the reaction from the body underneath him, the full-body shudder and
the low, undisguised moan, the new angle driving them both crazy.

Seto looked down, the strangest feeling of unreality washing over him as he
took in the sight of Bakura spread across his lap, hands digging into the bedcovers.
The spirit's back was arched, lower lip bitten almost bloody between his teeth,
eyes half closed and unfocused, his hips twisting in time with Seto's rhythm.
Seto almost felt like he was flying now, floating, tethered to the world only
by the mounting pleasure centered between his legs. His blood was pounding and
his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest if it worked
any harder, lungs gasping for air as they fucked. He saw, but didn't quite register,
Bakura lifting one hand from the covers to wrap around his cock, stroking himself
roughly in counterpoint to the movement of their hips. Bakura's breathing was
shallow and ragged now, and his rhythm stuttered, becoming jerky as he neared
completion, his body growing tense. Suddenly, he arched and cried out, wordless
nonsense spilling from his lips, and it was then that the full erotic weight
of it, all of it, slammed into Seto as he watched Bakura come all over both
of them.

He gasped and shuddered, feeling release sweep over him, tension snapping instantly
as wave after wave of pleasure beat down on him; it was too intense, too good
and, he suddenly realized, not quite... right. No, he then understood, there
was nothing right or normal about this at all, and the dizziness was already
mounting as his climax subsided, leaving him feeling drained and shaky. He pulled
himself away from Bakura and fell down onto the bed, spots and specks of black
starting to interfere with his vision, and the last thing he saw was Bakura's
bemused countenance staring down at him.

Panic began to set in as the darkness overwhelmed him. His ears were ringing,
and his even own voice sounded faint and far away.

"Jesus, Bakura... What the fuck have you done?"

*to be continued...*