Sleepwalk Dance

A/N: I don’t own YuGiOh.

Thank you to Lell for beta'ing (I LOVE YOU) and Zehlyah who poked me hard and forced me to continue. And of course a HUGE THANK YOU to everyone that's reviewed! You ROCK!

Sleepwalk Dance

Chapter 5: Mokuba and Malik


Malik slipped his arm into the crook of the one offered and allowed himself to be led away. He tried his best to appear relaxed as they walked in silence through empty corridors, but the silence was palpable and beginning to feel oppressive. He and Mokuba had never been friends, not really, and had only mingled casually at parties and other forced social gatherings. They didn’t dislike each other, as far a Malik could tell, they were just indifferent. Luckily the awkwardness was broken by an angry shout echoing through the halls. Mokuba immediately broke into laughter, and Malik allowed a slow smile to spread on his face.

“Sounds like they’re hitting it off as expected.” Mokuba cocked his head back in the direction they had come from and grinned. “Seto is in for an interesting night; that’s a given.” Mokuba stopped in front of dark mahogany double doors, inlaid with intricate dragon carvings, and rested his hand lightly on the handle. “Here we are.” He paused a moment, looking at the blonde before him with a small smile on his face. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

Malik returned the smile and shook his head. He would readily admit that none of this was his idea, Marik being the one completely wrapped up in the whole scenario, but he wasn’t really against it. He was just wary of unnecessary concern any partner would have when they noted the marks on his skin and realized the rather rough tastes of his boyfriend. The cuts and bruises made him self-conscious and he refused to be pitied for it. He loved Marik with all his soul, but the concept of ‘making love’ was one so foreign to Marik that he would never be able to comprehend it. Malik accepted him the way he was, and couldn’t honestly say he was truly dissatisfied with their sex life. He watched concern cross Mokuba’s features and found his voice. “I know we don’t have to, I want to.”

Mokuba swung the door wide to reveal yet another candlelit room, the soft glow warm and inviting. They entered, Mokuba closing the door quietly behind and reaching out to encircle Malik’s wrist, pulling him back and turning him. Mokuba ran a finger down Malik’s tanned face, and looked into his eyes with such intensity that Malik found his breath catching in his throat. Malik was far from meek, but the depth of his eyes was slightly unnerving, so when Mokuba leaning closer, Malik instinctively backed away until his back was against the closed door. Mokuba pressed closer, never breaking eye contact and trailing a finger down his tanned cheek and across his collarbone. Malik was confused at the power in the gaze – intense, but not feral. He closed his eyes as Mokuba brushed his lips across his cheek and brought his mouth to the shell of his ear.

“Whatever you desire is yours, Malik. You just need to ask.”

He felt Mokuba’s hands slip underneath his shirt and lightly caress his sides as warm lips began to explore his neck. He gasped at the gentle touch, turning his head to allow better access and losing himself. His heart was pounding fiercely in his chest and he felt like he might have gotten in over his head – he was so out of his element. Mokuba’s fingers trailed higher across his smooth flesh, upwards towards his nipple when they stopped, tracing gingerly over marred flesh. Mokuba pulled away, meeting Malik’s eyes with a questioning look and moving to lift the shirt. Malik put a hand over Mokuba’s, stopping him. “Mokuba…”

Mokuba shook his head and smiled sadly. “What does he do to you?”

“It’s not like that. He doesn’t do anything to me, he just gets a bit rough sometimes and it’s okay.” Malik gently pushed Mokuba back and swiftly pulled off his shirt, putting himself on display. He could see sadness and anger passing through those dark eyes and looked down, not wanting to see the pity that was sure to follow. He didn’t want to be pitied; he just wanted to be understood. Mokuba shocked him though, nudging Malik’s face so that they were again face-to-face and smiled.

“If you’re okay with it, who am I to say anything?” Mokuba ran tentative fingers over raised bruises that were unmistakably teeth marks, his eyes wandering over smoothed tanned flesh and passing over more bruises and the occasional scab where tender flesh had been broken with too much vigor. Malik gasped as Mokuba leaned in and tenderly kissed each wound, lingering over the smooth flesh in between, his eyes closing against the overwhelming sensations of such feather light touches. Once again Mokuba’s hot breath tickled his ear. “Tell me what you want, Malik, what do you want me to be?”

His mind was racing with the possibilities. He eased Mokuba away, looking at him. He could see the lust in Mokuba’s eyes, lust remarkably tame compared to the feral desire that raged in Marik. He found his voice, a mere whisper. “Be for me what I don’t have.”

Mokuba nodded and took him by the hand, leading him to the king sized bed dominating the room. He motioned for him to stay there and moved towards the nightstand, which was littered with various items. He picked up a long piece of material and returned, standing before Malik, his face serious. “Do you trust me?”

Malik took a moment to ponder this, looking at the other man intently. “Yes.”

Immediately Mokuba raised the material to his eyes, and covered them, securing the band while being mindful not to pull his hair. Malik shivered at Mokuba’s husky voice, low and filled with promise. “Now I can be whomever you want.” He tried to relax despite the unknown and felt Mokuba unfastening his pants and quickly ridding him of the rest of his clothes before easing him onto the bed. Once Malik was lying against the pillows stacked against the headboard he heard Mokuba stand and shed his clothes. His breath was ragged with his arousal and the strangeness of the situation. His pulse raced when the bed shifted and he felt Mokuba climbing towards him, wasting no time in capturing his mouth. They kissed lazily at first, Malik the one in control regardless of his prone position. He knew without words that Mokuba was allowing him to set the pace, to orchestrate what would occur between them. He could feel Mokuba’s arousal pressing against his thigh and thought that if that were Marik they wouldn’t still be laying here; foreplay was lost on the man. Marik would never do anything without his consent, no matter what, but Malik consented to more that he ever thought possible. The things he would do for love.

Malik pushed all these thoughts out of his head. He wasn’t here to find and study all of his boyfriend’s flaws, but to experience something new. He slowly started to explore the body next to his, using his heightened senses and state of arousal. He could smell Mokuba’s musky manliness and feel the silkiness of his smooth skin under his fingertips. Mokuba took this touch as permission to do the same and allowed his hands free reign to explore. Soon their kisses were frantic and their touches less tentative and teasing. Malik had enough of the control; it was too much for him.

“Take me… please.”

It was all the invitation needed as Mokuba quickly moved from where he was lying at his side, and blanketed Malik’s body, the touch of hot skin singeing his nerve endings. Mokuba teased the flesh of his neck, licking and nipping playfully downward causing Malik to fist the coverlet in his hands and arch into the touch. He took his time exploring the tanned skin, being careful to avoid the tender bruises. When Malik felt hot wetness surrounding his nipple he instinctively tensed for the pain to mix with the pleasure, and moaned softly when only pleasure ensued. The skilled mouth teased and sucked on his sensitive nub until he was writhing under the touch before it moved on to attack the other one. Malik was lost in the sensations of his body, pleasure without pain – so alien yet so compelling.

Lower and lower still, every inch of him explored – the tip of Mokuba’s tongue dipping into his navel, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh over his jutting hip and finally hot breath over the sensitive skin of his erection. He whimpered aloud as the wet heat of Mokuba’s mouth enveloped him. He could feel Mokuba easing him down his throat and start humming tunelessly. It’s not that Marik hadn’t ever given him head before, but it was always for shock value rather than pleasure – seeing in how many inappropriate locations Marik could make him come. It was always hot and fast and dirty, and although enjoyable, it was a far cry from this. This was indescribable.

Malik felt himself close to the edge, moaning deep in his throat and losing it completely when he felt Mokuba swallowing each spurt of his release. He felt faint after that, barely aware of Mokuba shifting positions and coming to lie next to him. Gentle hands continued to stroke his skin as his mouth was occupied. He could taste himself on his recent lover’s lips and savored it. Malik shifted slightly and could feel Mokuba pressing against him, amazed that he could be that hard without losing his restraint. He traced a trail down Mokuba’s chest, but was stopped as he reached the soft curl at the base of Mokuba’s erection. “Not yet.”

Malik felt strong hands turning him over onto his stomach and fingers immediately tracing the Egyptian markings on his back, soothing him. He buried his cheek into the softness of the pillow and lost himself once again to sensation. He could feel Mokuba straddle his hips and soon a tongue tracing the intricate patterns that adorned him. Once again he was aware of the care the other one was showing, avoiding his bruised and abused skin. Mokuba moved his body lower, running his tongue between the cleft of his cheeks and dipping between them. He moaned into the pillow as Mokuba lifted his hips, spreading his legs for easier access, and continued to explore him with his mouth. Malik could feel himself harden again as Mokuba pressed his tongue into him. What was most amazing was not that Mokuba was being such a considerate lover, but how much he appeared to be enjoying himself. Mokuba was moaning and panting, seeming to enjoy this more than Malik could possibly comprehend.

Before he knew it he was on his back again, Mokuba laying over and kissing him deeply. “What do you want, Malik?”

“You. I want to feel you inside of me.”

Mokuba got off of him, leaving him cold and alone on the bed. Malik could hear him moving things around on what he assumed was the end table. The bed dipped with Mokuba’s return. Without warning, cold wetness drizzled over the hot skin of his erection and down the cleft of his buttocks before Mokuba’s hands returned to heat it up. Slick fingers slid into him effortlessly, making him whimper and writhe. “Please… now…” He barely recognized his own voice as he begged for more. The hands that parted his legs, spreading them wide were firm but gentle, lifting his hips until he could feel the head of Mokuba’s cock pressing against his opening.

He was penetrated slowly, until Mokuba was fully embedded and their lips met once again. Malik wrapped his legs around Mokuba’s slim hips and urged him on. He could feel the other’s restraint slowly slipping as he fucked him, pounding into him more forcefully with every thrust and the guttural moans from his throat louder and more predatory. Malik lifted his hips, willing him deeper, scoring marks across his shoulders with his nails. A hand reached between their bodies and grabbed his cock, pumping it as frantically as the pounding in his ass.

Malik was lost in the moment, his mind tricking him and his body betraying. There was power in the man fucking him and this power was disorienting. He felt himself on the edge and arched up as he came, Marik’s name spilling from his mouth in a harsh moan. If he could see, he would see the grin spreading out across Mokuba’s face as he found release knowing he’d truly done well.

Mokuba collapsed with the strength of his orgasm, barely able to brace his weight with his arms before sliding to the side and cradling Malik in his arms. Neither made a move to remove the blindfold, both just content to lay there in silence as their breathing calmed and their pulse slowed. Malik rested his head on Mokuba’s chest, enjoying the post-coital comfort that rarely occurred with Marik. He reached up and slipped the material off his eyes, taking a minute for his eyes to focus before looking at Mokuba and grinning.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“You’re happy aren’t you?”

Malik nodded in response and rested his cheek once again on Mokuba’s smooth chest. “He’s not a bad guy.”

“I know. I would never think he was. I know you love him, Malik, and that’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Malik whispered, closing his eyes against the tears that were threatening. He loved Marik; more than Marik could even understand, but it was nice to feel what sex could be like if mixed with tenderness.

He was sated.


Tbc… coming up, the grand finale, Kaiba and Jou – OH the possibilities!