Dark Roads

Disclaimer - If you honestly think I own them, maybe you should go see some people about a tight white jacket.

Author's Notes - Well, after being sick for a good 4 days straight, and now having 2 of my 3 children sick, I figure I better get this up before anything else happens. Enjoy . . . oh, and be prepared. Some not so pleasant stuff in this chapter.


Chapter 5 – Fluctuations


Saturday passed in a quiet sort of boredom as Ryou and Bakura settled into the Motou household . . . their new home.

It was strange. Once upon a time, he had loathed Bakura nearly as much as the pale teenager had loathed him. Now . . . well, things were certainly different. Neither of them had spoken of what had occurred between them at the Den, but he was sure it hadn’t been far from either of their minds. Nothing that mind-blowing was ever easily dismissed from thought. But they didn’t discuss it, for which he was thankful. It had happened, and that was that.

He’d figured that was how Bakura would react to it . . . it had been his own reaction that worried him. He had never been one to just casually give his body in such a way to anyone before this. To be honest, he had worried that he wouldn’t be able to do it, that he would have to truly love the person in order to satisfy his physical desires with them. The episode with Bakura had proved that it wasn’t true anymore, for which he was thankful.

As much as he was calm and fine on the outside with the breakup between himself and Seto . . . he was not doing so well on the inside. His mind was often a seething mass of questions – questions about himself and what the time they’d spent together had really meant to the young CEO. Had Seto ever really loved him? Was there really something so wrong with him that the man he had loved . . . still loved in some small part of his heart . . . could replace him so easily?

He kept catching himself falling into such dark musings, and he was tired of it. But he was also helpless to stop his mind from wandering those paths, especially in the deep of night when he was alone in his bed … something he hadn’t done in over a year. Slept alone with no one beside him.

Yugi had offered to sleep with him until the strange loneliness had passed, but he’d declined the offer even though he had been tempted. He would merely have been replacing one body with another, and it would do no good for either of them if he did so. He needed to get over this . . . needed to heal. The warmth of a body sleeping beside him at night would do nothing to help replace the gaping hole in his heart where his love for Seto had resided.

Sitting in his makeshift office again, going over what bills they could afford to pay and needed to be paid, he tapped the pencil he was holding against the desk top absently as he stared off into space. He wasn’t quite sure how they were going to be able to support the two extra members of the household. He and Yugi lived off of a very tight budget . . . how much would the inclusion of the two white-haired males throw that carefully maintained balance off?

He jumped slightly in surprise as something thumped onto the desk in front of him, and startled crimson eyes turned to see Bakura standing beside him, pale arms crossed over his chest. He looked back to the desk . . . and his eyes widened as he beheld a large stack of cash sitting in the middle of his workbook.

“Bakura, where . . .?” he began to ask, and then stopped. Did he really want to know?

“Myself and Ryou’s personal funds,” the man said sharply. “We didn’t get evicted because of lack of payment . . . we got evicted because the asshole running our development tried to rape Ryou, and I beat him senseless because of it.” He met the crimson regard carefully before sinking into one of the spare chairs in the room, crossing his legs at the ankles as he spoke. “How come you let everyone think you’re a rich kid, when you’re actually less well off than Ryou and I?”

Atemu stood up, pacing the narrow area in agitation. He hadn’t foreseen Bakura becoming aware of his financial situation … he wasn’t sure how to feel about it, to be honest. No one had ever known just how poor Yugi and he were. He didn’t consider it to be anyone’s business but his and his brother’s. He wasn’t sure how happy he was with it . . . but he guessed he should have known it was inevitable.

“They assumed,” he murmured finally. “They simply assumed because of the way I dressed and the way I acted that I was rich, like them. I saw no reason to disabuse them of that notion. It wasn’t any of their business, and if they were foolish enough to make the mistake, I was willing to let it stand.” He sighed, and dropped back into his chair, running a hand through his hair raggedly as he felt those magenta eyes on him like a weight, still waiting for answers. What did Bakura want to know? His entire life history? What was the sudden interest . . . they were just fuck buddies, right?

“Why let them label you like that, Yami?” Bakura murmured, and Atemu looked up at him warily.

“Why not?” he replied. “Bakura, when Yugi and I came to Domino, we had just lost everything we had ever known. Our father had deserted us, and our mother was an emotional wreck. She drank herself into an insane asylum. It left us with nothing of our old life. Yugi makes friends easily . . . I do not. Their label gave me somewhere to fit in, to belong, when I had nothing left but my brother.”

Bakura sat back thoughtfully, magenta eyes dark with emotions. It seemed Atemu and he had a lot more in common than he had first thought. He and Ryou had been on their own since losing their mother as well, and their father was practically non-existent in their lives. That knowledge made him feel closer to the golden-skinned man . . . and he wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with it.

He shook his head, putting his musing away for another time to turn back to the matter at hand.

“Whatever the case, Ryou and I won’t live off of your charity. If you need money, just let us know. We’ll help as we can.” He stood up slowly, stretching before speaking again. “I’m going to go get my shit sorted out in my room,” he said and paused. “By the way . . . thank you. For taking us in.” With that, he walked out the door, leaving Atemu to stare after him in confusion.

That had certainly been unexpected. But he could dwell on it later . . . right now, he had bills to concentrate on . . . and more money with which to cover them.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Sunday dawned like any other day . . . another unwelcome reminder to Atemu that life went on, no matter what an individual’s personal circumstances. At least the store was closed, so he could relax. Bakura had gone out, and the two younger boys were playing a videogame in the bedroom which left Atemu with some much needed solitude in which to think and relax.

At least, it did . . . until the doorbell rang. Rising off of his perch on the couch, he went to answer it and froze as he met the sapphire gaze of his now ex-fiancé.

“Seto?” he whispered, his heart in his throat as he stared up at the taller man in shock. “Ummm . . . hi.”

“Hello Atemu,” the brunette murmured warmly. “I’m in town visiting Mokuba . . . and I wanted to stop by to see you. I hope you don’t mind.” Atemu shook his head, trying to gather his scattered wits back together so he could talk intelligently. Why did Seto want to see him, of all people? What was going on? “If you’re not doing anything, I’d like to take you out to lunch.”

“Uh . . . sure . . . I mean, I’m not doing anything important. Just give me a minute to get dressed and let Yugi know I’m going out and I’ll be right down.” He shut the door behind the tall CEO as Seto stepped inside before making his way to his room to change, his mind whirling with confusion.

Why would Seto want to see him? They’d broken up . . . it was over between them. Hell, the brunette had already replaced him – so what the hell was going on? He was angry at himself for not refusing the invitation, and angry at his traitorous heart for being happy at seeing the man he’d once loved so desperately. He had to be going insane, that was the only explanation.

“Yugi, I’m going out for a bit. I’ll lock up,” he said, poking his head into his brother’s room. The smaller male simply waved over one shoulder, engrossed in beating Ryou at Tekken 4. Shaking his head wryly, he made his way back to where he’d left the brunette waiting.

Seto smiled as he came into view, and his traitorous heart sped up again. Damn it, Seto wasn’t his any more! Why was he doing this to himself . . . nothing could happen, it was over and done with! Yet he smiled as he took the proffered hand, and walked out to the waiting limo as if nothing had happened to change what they were to each other.

They talked congenially about their lives as they drove to the restaurant, where Seto had made reservations from his cell phone while he waited for Atemu to get dressed. Business was going well in America, but Seto had little time to enjoy the new sights, as he was busy getting the new office into working order. Somehow, that didn’t surprise Atemu. Work had always been an obsession with the young CEO . . . that drive had been one of the things he’d loved about him.

The lunch was spent in companionable chatter on various subjects that they’d always had in common. It was as if nothing had happened, as if the last couple months had been nothing more than a bad dream in Atemu’s head. But he knew differently . . . he could see it every time he looked down at his hand and saw the pale band of flesh where his engagement ring used to reside. So what was going on?

He was somewhat startled when Seto invited him back to the mansion rather than dropping him off at the game shop, but he went along with it. Curiosity was a dangerous thing, and he wanted to know what was going on in Seto’s life. Stupid of him, he was sure . . . but that didn’t dim the desire for information one bit.

“How’s Alex?” he asked as he sank into a familiar leather sofa, trying not to remember how many nights they’d spent entwined in each other’s arm, watching movies or talking on it’s smooth surface. Alex was Seto’s new boyfriend in America . . . by asking he was hoping to give his ex-fiancé the feeling that he didn’t care overmuch anymore about it. He was surprised by Seto’s answer.

“We broke up,” the brunette said. “He said I wasn’t spending enough time with him.” He shrugged and smiled slightly over at Atemu. “Not surprising, really. I just don’t have time for a relationship right now anyway. At least you always understood that.”

Atemu started in surprise, crimson eyes widening when Seto stepped behind the couch, resting his hands on the tense shoulders and rubbing them lightly . . . lovingly.

“Seto, what . . .” he began, only to moan as one of those hands drifted beneath the neck of his shirt to run delicately over one nipple.

“I’ve missed you, Atemu,” Seto whispered, leaning over to lick at the shell of one ear teasingly. “I’ve really missed you . . . hearing you scream my name . . .” He bit down on the lobe gently, and crimson eyes closed, a moan escaping the parted lips as Atemu panted for breath, his mind fogging. He clung to just enough sanity to break away, rising from the couch to turn and stare at the brunette warily.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and Seto smiled slightly.

“Seducing you,” he replied. “Is it working?”

“Seto, we broke up!” he said, crossing his hands over his chest defensively. “You broke off the engagement! How the hell can you think that I’ll just come back to you so easily?!” Seto looked amused.

“I wasn’t asking you to come back to me, Atemu. I said I don’t have time for a relationship right now. But that doesn’t mean we can’t fuck, does it?” Atemu stared at him, shocked and outraged.

“You broke my heart, you bastard!” he whispered. “You took everything I had to give and then stomped on it and threw it away like it was nothing! And now you just want me to fuck you? For what? For ‘old times sake’? What do you think I am?”

He shivered as Seto came around the couch, approaching him like a predator. He found himself backing up, and he gasped as his back hit a wall, crimson eyes widening as he found himself pinned by the taller man, a hand on either side of his head.

“I need you, Atemu,” the sapphire-eyed man whispered, leaning down to nip at his lips teasingly. “You loved me once . . . would you deny me now just because we aren’t tied to each other anymore?” He ground their hips together, and Atemu moaned as flames licked up his spine. He couldn’t deny it . . . he still wanted Seto. Wanted him so badly it hurt. But it was just physical . . . it had to be simply that. He didn’t love Seto anymore. He could prove it now, prove it by getting physical with the man and then simply forgetting about the whole thing.

But one thing was for sure . . . he wasn’t about to offer his body to the man. He pushed Seto back onto the couch, kneeling between the long legs before slowly freeing the hardened flesh from the constraining pants. He caressed it tenderly, remembering when he’d done this out of love and not physical need.

He took the silken flesh into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily as Seto moaned above him, hips pinned by golden hands as Atemu worked him between firm lips and wet tongue. He’d always loved to hear that sound . . . that lack of control in the otherwise icy man he’d loved. It made him burn to cause more of those delightful moans, and he set to work with a diligence that surprised even him.

He caressed his own flesh as he did so, freeing it easily from the leather pants to run his hand over it, pumping his erection in time with his mouth moving over Seto’s need. He hummed with pleasure, and the body beneath him jerked, a gasp of pleasure torn from the pale throat as Atemu’s other hand rolled his balls gently in its palm.

“Atemu . . .” Seto moaned, his body tensing with his imminent release. He choked back a scream as Atemu took him fully into his mouth, swallowing around his length until the feel of those throat muscles massaging his sensitive flesh sent him over the edge, his essence pouring out of him in spurts.

Atemu came with a guttural moan of his own, swallowing Seto’s seed as his own splashed the couch and carpet. Releasing the now wilting flesh from his mouth, he lay his head on one cloth-covered thigh . . . and tried not to think of what he had just done, or the repercussions he already felt swimming in his mind.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Atemu watched the limo pull away from the curb, and something inside him simply broke.

What had he been thinking? He’d let Seto back him into a corner, had allowed the brunette into manipulating him to do something that he now regretted more than anything else in the world. It hurt . . . because he had discovered that in some small part of him he really did still love the CEO.
Fighting back tears, Atemu stalked into the game shop and dragged himself to his room, trying not to retch at the taste that still lingered on his tongue.

God, he was a moron! How could he have done that . . . how could he have allowed Seto to manipulate him like that!? His heart ached, and his chest felt tight from holding back the tears of frustration and pain of seeing Seto leave once again. The man had never even looked back, as if what they had just done meant nothing. And maybe, to him, it didn’t.

Making it to his room, he disappeared inside . . . and wished that he never had to emerge again.


AN - Yeah, Seto's an asshole. Would you believe that whole thing was based off something my ex tried to pull with me a couple weeks ago? I just about decked his ass . . .