WAIT FOR YOU FOREVER (A.K.A. SLEEPLESS II)

WARNING: Here be CITRUS!


WAIT FOR YOU FOREVER
CHAPTER 6


Mokuba is wide awake. Someone is gripping his wrist and pulling him through a room of dance. His eyes are wide open. Someone is calling him and laughing giddily. He is falling past a bar lined with spilt drinks and old makeup. He is acutely aware of every eyelash flicker in the room. Someone is leading him towards a dark, dark door. Mokuba is wide awake. Cold air slaps him around the face. His feet have trouble introducing themselves to the cobbled alleyway. The someone is jerking his arm nearly out of its socket, and is laughing, and is turning to look at him.

Mokuba is awake. He doesn't know who the someone is.

His eyes are wide, wide open, but he can't tell if the someone is male or female.

"Are you a girl?" The words sound like someone else's. Or like his own, played back to him on a tape a second before they come out of his mouth.

The someone's laugh rattles around the alleyway, and bounces inside Mokuba's skull. "Does it matter?"

His ears are having trouble introducing themselves to open space after the press of club music.

"Does it matter?" Mokuba is not sure if the someone said it first and he has echoed the question, or if the someone has repeated the phrase herself. Himself. Itself. The someone seems vaguely familiar.

Mokuba is very aware of the taxi that passes the end of the alleyway, and he is very aware of the sky. It is an interesting combination of pale indigo and blackened orange. It looks very big out there.

"... alright?" The someone is tapping him lightly on the cheek. And snickering again.

Mokuba's shoulder blades are suddenly aware that they have been introduced to a cold stone wall. His waist is suddenly aware that the someone's hands are on it - on his skin - and his hips are suddenly very aware that they should be getting acquainted with the someone's pelvis.

Mokuba is now wide awake. Really. He pulls the someone against himself, trapping himself upright between the rock wall and (what he is gradually realising is) a hard place. The someone (-He-, thinks Mokuba, -he-) is pressing against Mokuba's body in all sorts of places, and is rubbing Mokuba's thighs with hot hands.

Mokuba thinks that he should ask the man's name, because he can't remember where they've met before, and he starts to open his mouth. But then he thinks that this is probably not the best time to ask, and the other man is suddenly sucking his neck, and Mokuba's question becomes a strangled moan. The moan acts just like the laugh, ricocheting off the walls, folding into itself, and diving back into Mokuba's ear (which is being sucked - -Ohhh-hh-), down into his spine (which is being stroked), into his lungs (which are crammed with hitched breaths) and back up his throat to his lips, where it repeats itself against the someone's neck.

"Fuck." The someone gasps, no longer laughing, and Mokuba scrabbles with shirt buttons. He feels hands push roughly into the waistband of Yugi's PVC trousers, pulling his feet off the ground, and grinding their hips together. Something about the pants being Yugi's disturbs Mokuba, but the sensation of a tongue and teeth at his throat is much more urgent. The heat spreading from his belly to his extremities is also quite urgent, as is the feeling of his companion's hand kneading his buttocks. Mokuba closes his eyes and lets his head tip back against the wall, another gasping moan flying from his lips as the someone does something with his mouth on Mokuba's nipple (-When did my top come off-?), sending electric worms straight to his groin.

The someone mutters something into Mokuba's chest, and Mokuba finds himself back on the ground, his legs responding just in time to save him from ending up on his arse. The someone is undoing their fly, one hand working his repressed erection while the other wrestles with the buttons. Mokuba is unbelievably turned on by the man's frustration, but thinks that on this occasion it would be more efficient to complete one task before moving on to the other. He decides to remove his own trousers, but stops short an inch from the button. -I'm fucking Yugi-. The snippet of conversation pops into his head, and won't go away. They are, after all, Yugi's pants.

So instead of working on his own trousers, Mokuba reaches out a hand and catches the someone's wrist, then moves the other slowly to finish undoing his fly. He lets his fingers play lightly over the bulging and slightly damp material of the man's underwear, causing the other to catch his breath and push Mokuba back, -hard- into the wall, hands fumbling at Mokuba's (-Yugi's-) own pants. The someone has one hand on Mokuba's chest, pinning him to the stone, and their faces are only millimetres apart. Mokuba's breath is in short supply, and he feels as though he is going to burst with anticipation. Strong fingers suddenly lock around his erection, and it is all he can do from screaming - instead a ragged, "O-hh-h," grabs the other's attention. The someone's gaze flicks up to Mokuba's, and Mokuba almost comes just seeing the want burning in his dark blue eyes. "Oh. God," he manages to mouth, before the other's lips finally crash into his own.

The sky that seemed so big just a moment ago contracts in Mokuba's pupils. His irises blacken and suck the night into themselves. His own hand finds the other's cock, and he moves with the man's thrusting rhythm, more out of a last shred of conscience than any ability to actually comprehend anything outside of his own desperate need for release. And he closes his eyes, because the someone's dark hair is rubbing across his face, and because the someone's dilated eyes are really very familiar, and because he doesn't - want - -anything- to distract him from... thi-isss...

Mokuba screams silently as he comes, and the night explodes from under his eyelids, falling back into place between the lights over Domino City.

The someone rests his head sweatily on Mokuba's naked shoulder for a moment, then draws back, letting go completely. He shoves his dark brown hair off his angular face, which really doesn't look at -all- feminine, and does up his pants. He looks at Mokuba as he straightens his well-cut shirt, then turns away to the club's back door. "Later, kid," he says, and disappears, leaving Mokuba standing between two rubbish bins, with trousers around his knees, and a sinking feeling in his belly.

Because Mokuba knows now that he is very awake, and very sober, and that his first gay experience has been in a dirty back alley in Yugi's trousers with someone who, he can't deny, looks very much like his older brother.

"I'm not a -kid-," he mutters to the sky, but he is aware that his voice sounds very uncertain.


NOTE/S: So, my first attempt at something lemony... more lemonade than straight lemon, I guess. Anyway, do I pass the test?