Dark Roads

Disclaimer - Oh come on . . . if I owned them, do you really think it would be allowed on cable?

Author's Notes - okay, since I survived leaving it there . . . barely . . . I'm going to just skip long AN's and get right to the . . . LEMON!


Chapter 4 – Red Dream

Atemu shifted above the pale body, the knife slowly caressing the alabaster flesh, watching the muscles jump and twitch at the cold touch of the blade, merely toying with the flat of the knife and not cutting . . . yet. Gods he’d never felt this powerful, like he was in complete control. It was an illusion of course . . . Bakura had the true control, the ability to call a halt to his play at any time . . . but just to feel like this was breathtaking. The magenta eyes were closed, breath whispering between parted lips as Bakura lay quiet beneath him, his fists clenching and unclenching slowly in anticipation. He wanted this feeling to last forever . . . but he doubted Bakura would be that patient.

For some reason, he had the pale man’s trust . . . it was time to put it to use. Time to really play.

Bakura hissed slightly when the blade bit lightly into his flesh, drawing a line across his chest, the delicious pain flaring through his nerves. He nearly jerked upright when the cool touch of the blade was followed by the warm, wet heat of a tongue trailing along the shallow cut, golden bangs brushing against sensitive flesh as Atemu lapped at his blood like a cat licking up cream. The feel of it sent sparks straight to his groin, which was unmercifully buried beneath Atemu’s tight ass at the moment. He moaned aloud, and felt the lips against his skin curve gently before they closed around one nipple, teasing at it with lips and teeth before he cried out in pleasure/pain as Atemu bit down on the sensitive nub, tugging lightly at the ring imbedded there with his tongue.

God, he’d forgotten what it was like to be able to enjoy this without worrying if it would go too far. There wasn’t a single concern in his mind that Atemu would take this farther than he wanted it to go, which was surprising since he barely knew the man. Yet he already trusted the tri-haired youth more than he trusted his own second. Those thoughts were fleeting, however, as fingers brushed over his skin, igniting tiny fires all throughout his body. Such a delicate touch, masking such a dark need. It made him shiver with delight, and the need for more.

The taste of Bakura’s blood on his tongue was like ambrosia, addicting and intoxicating, arousing him to new heights he’d never thought possible. The soft moans of were like music to his ears, the feel of that hard body moving beneath him fanning the flames to an all-consuming high. Leaving the abused nub behind with one last tug on the silver nipple ring, he trailed his knife over the tight skin in random patterns, his tongue following along the shallow cuts that began to decorate the pure, pale flesh with rivulets of red beauty. None of them were deep enough to leave scars . . . he would have hated to mar such perfect flesh so permanently.

Each moan of pleasure, each gasp that he wrung from that pale throat only served to make him yearn for more. This was what he had wanted and craved for months now . . . this was what had frightened Seto so badly that he’d begun to check for the blade before Atemu came anywhere near their bed. Seto had never trusted him . . . not like this, and yet he’d claimed to love him. Yet here he was with someone he barely knew, someone he had been on barely civil terms with not long ago . . . and who already trusted him far more than his former fiancée ever had. It was a glorious rush.

He worked his way slowly down the length of Bakura’s lean, muscular body, enjoying the sensation of skin sliding against skin, tasting blood and flesh to his content, lapping and sucking at the trailing threads of crimson hungrily as the pale form writhed beneath him, crying out occasionally in pleasure.

He paused to admire his handiwork, the patterns of ruby liquid that welled from over a half a dozen shallow cuts on that alabaster flesh before turning to his true goal . . . the hard, waiting flesh that stood crying for his attention beneath him. So delicious . . . so satisfying, this kind of trust that Bakura was showing him. He didn’t want it to ever end . . . but it was time to stop playing. He needed his completion … he could wait another time to fully indulge this darker side of his nature.

The pause confused Bakura, and magenta eyes began to slowly open . . . only to close tightly again as a harsh shout was torn from his throat, his back arching in surprised pleasure. Warmth and wetness, teasing teeth and a massaging tongue engulfed his aching need suddenly, and he fought not to buck upward into it, to feel more. He felt hands come to rest on his hips, and was thankful for the restraint when he suddenly found his length completely enveloped, vibrations running through his groin and straight up his spine to set fireworks off inside his closed eyelids.

“Holy shit,” he moaned, his head tossing slightly as Atemu hummed around his flesh, grazing it with his teeth just hard enough to let him know they were being used. “Atemu . . .” He was ashamed at the whimper that issued forth as his new lover left off what he’d been doing to lay a kiss on the sensitive flesh of his thigh. Bakura wanted to writhe against the touch, wanting the attention to return to where it had been . . . and then cried sharply out as teeth sank into his thigh, sparking a flash of pain/pleasure that went straight to the tip of his manhood and made it jump with need. “Shit . . .” he whispered, as the teeth were removed, replaced with a warm mouth that suckled at the wound hungrily.

Caressing the pale hips, Atemu left off to turn his attention back to other things, tongue flicking out to run teasingly over the swollen orbs beneath Bakura’s length, laving them harshly before taking one into his mouth gently, rolling it on his tongue as the pale body trembled against him. Finally leaving his new ‘toys’ behind, he slid up the alabaster flesh, loving the sheen of perspiration that overlay the flushed face with it’s tightly closed eyes, feeling the blood decorated skin against his own. He’d never noticed how beautiful Bakura was before this.

“You called?” he murmured huskily, and magenta eyes opened, their passion-hazed gaze meeting burning crimson fiercely.

“Are you done playing yet?” Bakura growled, his voice thick with need. Atemu smirked before nipping at his lips lightly.

“Do you want me to be?” he murmured, and Bakura snarled at him before one hand reached up to pull him down into a heated duel of lips and tongues. They battled for several moments, neither coming up as the winner when they finally had to separate for air, both panting slightly with need.

Bakura licked the remainders of his own blood and pre-cum from his lips, savoring the taste as he stared into ruby depths. God, he’d had no idea that he’d want this so badly. He was more deprived than he’d thought. He arched upward to press his lips against Atemu’s in another hungry battle before speaking again.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, there’s going to be nothing left of me to fuck,” he whispered against those bruised lips, and was surprised when Atemu pulled back, crimson eyes slightly narrowed. The reaction was strange . . . that was where all of this was heading, wasn’t it? Them fucking? He certainly hoped so . . . because if this had all been nothing but one big tease, someone was going to die. He’d never been this hard in his life.

“Actually, I was hoping you would do the honors,” the tri-haired man replied quietly, and magenta eyes flew wide before he saw the uncertainty in those crimson depths. It confused him, until his mind made the connection with what he’d already come to suspect. Atemu wasn’t as experienced as he pretended to be.

“You’ve never been on top,” he murmured, speaking his thoughts aloud. He groaned slightly in depravation when the lithe, golden body rolled off of him, coming to rest beside him on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Seto was always in control,” Atemu said softly. “He was always top.” He shrugged slightly, a tiny movement that rubbed their shoulders together fleetingly. “I wouldn’t know what to do in that role, not really.” He sighed, closing his eyes. Playtime was done now . . . Bakura liked strong people, and that was his glaring weakness. As much as he could play at being a dominant person, he’d never been able to act on it. He’d never been allowed to explore that side of himself in bed.

“All you had to do was ask,” the pale man growled. Crimson eyes flew open as Bakura moved suddenly, settling on top of him lightly before leaning over to take one of his nipples between sharp white teeth, clamping down harshly.

A choked scream was Bakura’s reward, the body beneath him arching upwards as graceful hands clutched at his shoulders desperately. He worked his way up from there, across one collar bone to the bandage-free side of that slim throat, nibbling at the soft flesh there before setting his teeth in, drawing blood.

He rolled the fluid on his tongue, savoring it as Atemu moaned erotically, crimson eyes rolling up to show nothing but white. Apparently he’d found one of the man’s sensitive spots. He worked at that spot for a short time, pulling back to admire the mark before reaching for his pants, and the lube that was riding in a hip pocket.

One hand pumped the twitching arousal of the golden body teasingly as he coated his fingers with the substance, before reaching between the parted legs to run a light finger over the cleft of those firm globes. He’d expected Atemu to tense up, but strangely the man remained completely relaxed . . . until he slid one finger into that velvet heat.

Atemu gasped, crimson eyes wide as he shuddered against the invading digit, only to arch upward wantonly as a second was added and fireworks went off before his eyes. It had been so long since Seto had really taken the time to prepare him like this. God, it felt almost too good to be merely foreplay!

“Bakura . . .” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the harsh breathing that was the only sound in the otherwise silent club. He whimpered audibly as the third finger was inserted, a choked scream forcing its way past his lips as those slim fingers rubbed against his prostate. “Fuck . . .” He sighed in loss as the torturous appendages were removed, and raised his head slightly to watch as his lover spread lubrication over his length in preparation for what was to come. Red against white, tracing tiny patterns in the smooth musculature, outlining the crease of muscle . . . he reached out to run his fingers through the thick fluid, spreading it against the alabaster flesh as that pale body rose above him. Bakura maneuvered him slightly until his hips rested on the firm thighs, his legs draped carelessly to either side of the slim hips, leaving him vulnerable and aching to be filled.

He gasped, tensing all over again as he was impaled in one hard move, the feeling of Bakura suddenly inside him more than he could bear and maintain his sanity. So good . . .!

Bakura moaned, his pale fingers tightening on golden hips, struggling to maintain some modicum of control as that overwhelming heat enveloped his aching need. God, how the hell could Atemu still be so fucking tight? It felt like he was fucking a damn virgin, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his lover was definitely not that!

God, he just wanted to pound into that body so badly right now it was a struggle to remain still! And Atemu was certainly NOT helping matters, writhing against him desperately, slim legs coming to rest wrapped around his waist, inviting him further into that velvet warmth. This felt far too good to be normal! But he forced himself to hold still, to allow the body beneath him to adjust to his size, unsure if he was hurting Atemu or not . . . or if Atemu was even into that kind of thing. Some people didn’t enjoy taking pain as much as they enjoyed giving it.

He was shocked when the man managed to lever himself upright, golden hands clenched on his shoulders as that firm body rose to press against him, his length finding new depths in the welcoming cavern with the change in position. Atemu was a bit more maneuverable than he’d thought.

“If you’re not going to move, than I’ll do it for you,” a husky tenor whispered in his ear, before he moaned as Atemu began to move against him. Oh shit . . . he’d never had a lover take the initiative like this . . . he barely knew what to do with himself and his mind was quickly losing what little grasp on reality it had left.

Regaining some modicum of his sanity after a moment, he reached around to cup the firm ass in his hands, using that leverage to lift the slim body slightly before thrusting upward, over and over again, burying himself within silken walls. Atemu clung to his shoulders, the tri-haired head falling back as the man moaned, thighs clenching harder around pale hips to maintain his balance.
They writhed together deliciously, skin rubbing against skin in heated contact, pants and moans playing counterpoint accompaniment to the sound of flesh meeting flesh as blood slithered across their torso’s, painting red across the delicate skin of both men.

Bakura growled low in his throat as Atemu leaned forward, resting his head on one pale shoulder for a moment as if tired . . . before sinking his teeth into the exposed neck. A shout of pleasure accompanied the feeling of those lips and teeth working at his throat and he thrust harder against that golden body, the need to find his completion burning hotter with the sensation. Fucking hell, did the man have any idea what he was doing to him? His neck was one of the quickest ways to turn him on . . . he felt like he was going to explode any second now.

Atemu suckled at the wound he’d created, loving the feeling that doing so gave him even as his body felt ready to crumble into ash at the inferno growing in the pit of his stomach. Seto had never allowed him to mark him . . . never allowed him to leave any trace of his passion on his skin. Just the ability to do so without repercussion made him burn! But something was missing . . . he wanted more than this!

He collapsed backward on the bed, taking Bakura with him so that the man lay against him for a moment before he thrust his hips, seeking greater contact, pushing against the hard flesh buried deep within him.

“Harder,” he murmured. “God, Bakura . . . fuck me, please . . . don’t hold back . . .” He shouted out in pleasure as Bakura complied with his request, the dull of thud of flesh colliding with flesh mingling with the moans and cries of passion. “Shit . . . god, yes . . .”

“Fuck, Atemu,” Bakura growled, feeling his climax looming on the horizon of his pleasure. “You’re so . . . fucking . . . tight . . . holy shit . . .” He felt it when he pounded against Atemu’s prostate – the body beneath his tightened even further, the hands resting on his arms clenching to near painful proportions as that golden form writhed beneath him and against him, setting his skin aflame. He stared down at his lover, watching the play of pleasure-induced emotion across the tanned face, the sweat that trickled over the caramel flesh, golden bangs plastered to either side of the aquiline features . . . and sensed a dangerous turn in his thoughts.

Before he could locate and eradicate the anomalous thought, however, Atemu let go of his arm to take his own aching arousal in his hand, pumping it harshly in time with Bakura’s thrusts. It was too fucking hot to not watch . . . that silken flesh sliding in and out through the fisted hand, mimicking what he was doing in lower places - it sent napalm racing through his veins in a burning need and desire.

“Bakura . . . god, so close . . .” Atemu growled, meeting each thrust of pale hips with his own, the movements thrusting his own erection through his fist in the same tempo. “I’m . . . oh fuck . . . so close . . . shit . . . BAKURAAAAAA!”

Bakura stiffened, the sudden tightening of the silken walls that had been massaging his aching need and the feel of liquid warmth hitting his chest and stomach giving him the final push over the edge. He was suddenly free falling in space, drowning in ecstasy as he came with a hoarse scream, his body shuddering violently as his release ripped through him in a wave of flame, shooting his essence deep within the impossibly tight velvet warmth surrounding him.

He never even noticed when he collapsed forward, his head coming to rest on Atemu’s heaving chest, his passion spent and his body drifting in languorous pleasure, still buried deep within the body beneath him. The silence was deafening after the symphony of passion, their breath’s barely disturbing the stillness of the office after such intimate activity.

They lay entwined together for several moments, the sweat of their primal dance drying in the cool air as their hearts slowed back to something akin to a sane pace. Bakura was somewhat surprised to feel fingers threading into his hair, massaging his scalp gently in what he would have considered a loving caress from anyone else. But coming from Atemu, he took it for what he was sure it was . . . a silent thank you.

“I didn’t know you had it in you to want this kind of thing,” he murmured finally, unable to keep from voicing his thoughts. Atemu had always struck him as one of the romantic types - that he enjoyed pain, both giving and apparently receiving as well, was a shock. A pleasant one, but still a shock, and he wondered where it had come from. Had it always been there? If it had, where had it been hiding?

“Neither did I, until recently,” the man replied softly. “I think . . . I think I was so busy living up to everyone’s expectations of me, of letting them fit me in that little box they had me labeled for, that it never had the chance to manifest fully. But when I started . . . dreaming things . . . and wanting certain things . . . I couldn’t deny it any longer. I couldn’t hide it. I didn’t think I needed to, and I certainly didn’t want to. But Seto couldn’t handle it. It scared him.” He sighed, shifting slightly. “You had me labeled to, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did,” Bakura murmured thoughtfully. “But that label has definitely gone out the window.”

“Good,” Atemu replied, and then shifted restlessly. “We should get back,” he said. “Yugi will be worried that I’ve been gone so long.” Bakura got up slowly, his body surprisingly reluctant to move from where he had rested upon Atemu. He usually wasn’t one to want to linger in an intimate encounter with someone . . . odd that he seemed to want to now. He chalked it up to the newness of the situation, as well as the release of certain needs that he’d been unable to fulfill, and rose to get dressed quickly.

He couldn’t help but admire Atemu as the lithe man did the same, eyes lingering on the strong, firm lines of that golden form. Christ, did the man even realize how fucking gorgeous he was? Crimson rose to meet magenta, one eyebrow arching up in question, and he shook his head as a slight smirk graced those aquiline features. What a stupid thought - of course Atemu knew how good he looked. If he didn’t, the world was in for a load of trouble when he figured it out.

He wondered how long it would be until Atemu found someone else . . . and found himself reluctantly hoping it would be a long, long time.