The Bet

WARNING: this chapter contains a reference to drug use- bakura and marik are high from smoking marijuana aka weed. only the aftereffects- that they're high- is shown, and it's for entertainment purposes only. oh, and it also contains alcohol, WHICH MAY BE APPEARING IN OTHER CHAPPIES AS WELL. but the drug use doesn't. this warning stands for the rest of the fic, so be prepared!

i've never been high, nor have i ever done any type of drugs or illegal substance, except for alcohol, but that's another story. but a few of my friends have. and i also wanna say that bakura and marik are NOT potheads. this is most lilkely (99.9% chance) that this will be the only time it's shown. and bakura and marik are quite funny when they're fucked up. and, yes, when peops get high they do act stupid like this.

so, if anything, bakura and marik are the perfect examples of what NOT to do. don't be like them, kiddies. ^____^ bakura and marik got high cuz...they were bored, and they're stupid.

chibi yug: ami! ^__^ *squeals, smiling at the readers and blowing spit bubbles *

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chapter 11: street racing
Bakura lay on his back with his head hanging over the edge of Marik's messy bed, the tips of his silver and black streaked hair brushing against Marik's blonde bangs. Marik lay on the old, stained carpet of his bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling with glazed purple eyes. Bakura's own rich, dark chocolate ones were glazed as well, staring at the stains and splotches on the worn, beaten ceiling.

It was two in the morning, and both teens had been out drinking and playing pool before growing bored, coming to Marik's house since his parents weren't home, and getting high. Marik had found a dime of weed in the glove compartment of his rusted, old car, which hadn't been driven in months, since his license had been revoked. But that was only because he drove around with Bakura a lot.

Marik turned his head to the side, noting what a mess his room was in. Hell, it was always a mess; he never cleaned it. A plastic black trash can lay in the corner, most of the garbage scattered about it because Marik always just threw things at it, being too lazy to actually get up and put them in it. A lamp with a black light was on his bedside dresser, the drawers on it not fully closed because of the sloppily folded clo jam jammed randomly in them. A murky fish tank with turtles in it was next to the TV, which had something smeared on one corner of it's screen, then on the smaller wall by the closet, which was opened with clothes and shoes spilling out, was his expensive stereo system. Along the shelves on the walls were statues of dragons, and pictures of the mythical beasts were scattered throughout the room. Marik even had a dragon headed, matching bong and bowl set.

The blonde delinquent tilted his head back, jaw hanging open, to regard Bakura. "Are you thinking about that little fuck, what's his name?"

"Huh?" Bakura turned his head to the side, expecting to see his friend, but instead his face met with a blanket that was half falling off the bed. "What the fuck did you say?"

"Did I say something?"

"How in the hell would I know?" Bakura went back to staring at the tiled ceiling. There was one water stain from the leaky pipes in the attic that, if he squinted really hard, reminded him of someone. A silver haired someone. Bakura blinked his eyes, trying to remember the boy. Ah, yes, Ryou. The one whom Ushio'd been beating up. Bakurowlrowled and swung his fist at the thought of that jack ass.

"Owww! What the fuck was that for, asswhole?" Marik rubbed the side of his head, then reached out and bit Bakura's wrist.

"Mother fucker!" Bakura jerked his arm away from Marik before the other boy's teeth could tear his skin or draw blood. He turned his body sideways for better leverage and went to hit him in retaliation for biting him. However, the momentum of his punch pulled his slack body off of the bed. And onto Marik.

"OOF!" Marik grunted as Bakura fell on top of him. The silver haired boy rolled off of him, glaring at him as if it was his fault. Marik glared back, contemplating how to get up and go after Bakura. And what to do to him when he did get a hold of him.

Bakura went to sit up, but ended hitting his head off of the bed's rail, which supported the mattress. When he'd rolled, he had rolled upwards slightly, causing his head to go partially under the bed. Marik snorted then rolled over himself, and the other boy soon heard the blonde's soft snores.

"Pansy ass." He muttered then went back to staring at the ceiling. Damn it, he couldn't find the water stain of that pretty boy. Speaking of the boy, he wandered where he was now. Even high, he knew he hadn't seen the boy all week, since he'd left him at the hospital. He hadn't inquired around the school, but he had kept his ears open for any word of the boy. He'd heard a few things, but dismissed them immediately as ludicrous. You could always count on high school gossip to be 100% inaccurate and as far from the truth as possible.

He knew the boy was fragile and sickened easily. And remarkably pretty. Very, very pretty, with his soft silver hair, and gentle, doe brown eyes, and pale, porcelain skin. Pretty, pretty, pretty. So pretty. And Bakura liked pretty. And sparkly. He hadn't gotten to look into his eyes much, but he was sure they were sparkly. Sparkly, sparkly, sparkly. So sparkly. And Bakura liked sparkly.

And he was loosing his train of thought. Damn Marik and his stupid dime. It was all his fault. Wait...what was his fault? Bakura shrugged the thought off, thinking instead of the pretty boy with the sparkly eyes as he passed out, snoring loudly.

*******

Seto sighed, restlessly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of his flashy, expensive Jaguar CSX (or CVX, one of the two.....my baka brain can't remember) as he waited for the light to turn green. His cold blue eyes flickered briefly to his thousand dollar stereo and he turned the volume up some more on the CD he had in. It was a soundtrack to one of his favorite video games for his Play Station 2.

The rich boy rolled his eyes, growing impatient with the light. Honestly, the damn thing must be broken. He'd been sitting here for nearly three...... he glanced at the clock, which read ten thirty.... He'd now been officially sitting here for a whole five minutes. The color red was really starting to agitate him.

He almost wished that he was back home, suffering from the idle chatter of old ladies as his mother and her friends played canasta, Mokuba running throughout the house in his boxers and socks only with a cowboy had and two cap guns, pretending to shoot everything and everyone up and jumping on the couch as Seto attempted to play his Play Station 2. After yelling at Mokuba and getting scolded by their mother, who told them both to shut up and take their fight somewhere else, the oldest Kaiba brother had stalked up to his room, slammed and locked his door to keep his bratty brother out, and tried to play his X-box (from Nintendo, me thinks), but was distracted by the sounds of his father packing for yet another 'weekend business trip' that was 'for the company'.

Seto snorted, clenching the steering wheel in anger. "Bullshit." He hissed under his breath. He knew for a fact that his father had several mistresses in the area. After his father's 'business' trips, which had once happened only once in a blue moon, started becoming more and more frequent, the elder brother had snooped through his father's things, and found incriminating evidence; underwear, pictures, etc. He'd even overheard his mother and father discussing it. His mother knew, and she apparently didn't care; she was too absorbed in her own social life.

Seto clenched his teeth, grinding the pristine white bones and seeing nothing but red. He growled then banged his head backward in frustration. Maybe he wouldn't rather be home; he'd been so aggravated by his family's selfish ignorance that he'd had to get out of the huge house. So, he'd gone for a late night drive to clear his mind. He just wished he'd taken another road instead of this one with it's ridiculously long light, which he was sure was broken.

Hies fes flickered to the clock as he blew a lock of rumpled brown bang out of his line of vision. Ten thirty one. He'd been sitting here for six minutes..... Just then, two dim yellow beams of light preceded the car that pulled up alongside him. Seto's eyes instinctively turned to check the other car out. It was a sleek blue sports car......

Seto's blue eyes hardened to chips of ice. "Yami." He muttered under his breath, glaring at the other boy. But Yami wasn't paying attention; his head was turned towards the passenger seat, and closer inspection revealed a small, slender form, hidden by Yami's taller one. Seto automatically assumed it was Yugi, and, leaning further towards his passenger window, he could just make out the tips of Yugi's spiky hair around Yami's shoulders.

Yugi said something, and Yami laughed, leaning back and returning to his driving position. Feeling eyes watching him, the spiky, tri-colored haired senior turned to look out his own window. The warmth quickly left his red eyes, which turned into hardened rubies as he returned Seto's glare.

Both of their mouth's worked themselves into a tight, thin line, and both gripped their steering wheels. They glared once more at each other before turning their attention to the road. Yami's right hand rested upon his gear stick, which was on a raised part of the floor in between the passenger and driver seats. Seto gripped his own gear stick, which was located on the right side of the neck of the steering wheel.

Yugi stretched, attempting to peer nervously over Yami's shoulder to see who the other driver was, but he was too small to see. He wriggled his small feet, which dangled a few inches above the floor. The little one could feel the tension between the two drivers. "Y-yami?" he questioned timidly, afraid of the coldness of the older teen.

Yami snarled. "It's Kaiba." He snorted. "That arrogant asswhole....thinks he owns the world. I can't stand that cold bastard. I'm going to beat his ass." Yugi gulped and gripped the armrest on the door tightly, closing his eyes and said a soft, quick, and fearful prayer. Even as naive as he was, he could tell the two were going to race, and by the quickness which the two boys had settled into it, he could also tell they had done it before.

And he was right. Yami and Seto frequently raced their cars, although it was usually planned. However, on the rare occasions when they ran into each other, like tonight, they would race as well. They were bitter rivals, always seeking to out do the other, and they hated each other's guts. They had ever since they were children, when they first met in Kindergarten. It was a bitter hatred spawned from the clashing of their personalities.

The light turned green. Yami and Seto slammed onto their gas pedals, their tires screeching and leaving skid marks as their cars went from zero to top speed in a matter of minutes. Salt and cinders pinged and panged off of the bottoms of the flying cars; both boys were lucky the main roads were so heavily salted, so the chance of there being any ice patches was minimal. The green and blue cars weaved in and out of traffic, both drivers focused on the road.

Adrenaline rushed through Yami and Seto, both receiving and enjoying the intense rush of their race. Yugi, however, was screaming at the top of his lungs, shaking with fear. Yami glanced at the terrified angel before biting his lip and pressing further on the gas pedal. He couldn't pull over here, for there was metal railing on either side of the road, but further up ahead there was an emergency pull over.

Yami out raced the other cars, pulling well ahead of the spaced out traffic, and suddenly turned his wheel swiftly to the left. His tires screeched as the car did a swift U-turn, then he slammed on the breaks, bringing the car to a swift and sudden stop. Yugi and Yami were both flung from side to side, held in by only their seat belts, as the car swerved then slid to a stop.

Yami quickly undid his seat belt, unscathed and unshaken, used to driving at fast speeds and having complete control of his car, and reached over towards the trembling and crying Yugi, who was curled into a tight ball.undiundid Yugi's seat belt and pulled him into his lap, wrapping his arms around him.

Yugi whimpered, fear still constricting his throat. That had only been his second time in a car, other than the occasional taxi with grandfather, and his second ride with Yami. From when Yami gave him a ride home, Yugi knew Yami drove fast, but he'd never known cars could go that fast!. He wasn't sure how much over the speed limit it had been, but Yugi had figured out by now that Y's c's car wasn't just a sports car; it was geared for racing. His heart had leapt into his throat, blocking off his air, and he was sure they were going to die.

Shaken, Yugi was suddenly aware of strong arms around him, and a leather clad chest under him. He buried his sweet, tear stained face into it, seeking comfort and protection as he sobbed his fear away.

Yami rubbed his back, unsure hat hat he should say. He wasn't too good at the comfort thing, for he wasn't really emotionally close to anyone. He jheldheld the little one and let him cry. His heart was filled with guilt for what he'd done; his rivalry and competitiveness had over rode his head, and he hadn't been thinking straight when he silently challenged Seto to a race. He'd never meant to terrify the little one.

Seto caught only a glimpse of Yami swerving to a stop in the emergency pull over, gravel and snow crunching and flying under the thick tires, and Yami pulling Yugi into his arms. He sneered. "Pansy ass." He hissed as he switched into the next lane before he rear ended a car that was only doing sixty over the speed limit.

Seto gradually slowed his pace a bit so he didn't have to constantly weave in and out of traffic, mentally snarling at Yami for ruining his fun just because some snot nosed brat was crying. Seto was in the right lane, which was the outside lane, and it gave him the perfect view of all the buildings and trees he whizzed past. Then, ahead of him, he saw a very familiar figure with honey blonde hair hunched over, bundled in a faded flannel coat against the cold winter wind . The boy was hunched over in booth near a bus stop, the clear plastic providing a makeshift shelter from the cold weather, but not enough to protect him.

The memory of the boy's hot lips and flashing eyes tormented Seto's mouth, and he urged to feel that fire once again. Without using his signal, like always, Seto pulled alongside the bus booth, then pressed a button on his armrest, and the passenger side window rolled down. "What in the hell are you doing out here, Katsuya? Attempting to become another worthless, drunken street trash?" Seto sneered at the bottle of cheap liquor in Jou's hands.

Jou's head snapped up, his glassy brown eyes narrowing to slits. "What do you want, Kaiba? If it's to torment me, go to hell and screw yourself. Leave me alone; I'm not in the mood for your bull shit right now." Jou glared, then shuddered as the wind cut through the open door of the hutch. Seto turned the volume on his radio down and cranked his heat up to fight off the sudden chill that had entered when he rolled the window down.

"Fine, Katsuya, if you don't want a ride-" Seto trailed off, his eyes flashing in challenge and his voice taunting.

"W-wha did ya just say? Why on earth would _you _ help _me _?" Jou floundered, flabbergasted at Seto's haughty offer.

"Get in and you'll see."

"I don't truou, ou, Kaiba. How do I know this ain't a trick? What if Mai put you up to it?"

Seto let out a harsh laugh. "Since when have I ever been anyone's lap dog? Unlike you, I might add."

Jou's eyes narrowed, and he was tempted to smash his bottle of cheap, watered down beer over the arrogant boy's spoiled, rich head. "I ain't a dog."

Seto's eyes sparked, enjoying the anger displayed in the murky brown ones. "A puppy. You look likpoorpoor puppy that's been kicked and abandoned." He laughed harshly.

"Why you- I outta knock your teeth down your throat, you pompous wind bag!" Jou's free hand curled into a fist, and he stood up, approaching the car.

"I dare you to come in here and say that. Unless you're afraid." Seto taunted mercilessly. "A scared little puppy."

"I'm gonna kick your ass-" Jou got in and slammed the car door, then grabbed Seto by his collar, jerking him towards the passenger seat. The, he saw the triumphant smirk on his face. "You sneaky, low down son of a bitch!" He immediately launched into a verbal assault while Seto laughed his head off. For some strange reason, he got immense pleasure out of riling the blonde haired junior up. That pleasure was soon followed by the overwhelming urge to kiss that railing mouth.

And Seto did. He had been leaning back, head against the window, laughing and clenching his stomach while Jou let out a stream of cuss words, then he leaned forward suddenly, grabbing his shoulders none too gently, and silencing that mouth with a passionate, hot kiss, his tongue delving into Jou's, invading uninvited. Yet, Jou only struggled for a minute before heat and hormones rushed through his blood, and clouded his thoughts. He was melting in Seto's arms, his hands just starting to twine around his neck, when the older boy broke off.

Seto lay back against the driver's seat, him and Jou panting. "Not here." He said before winding Jou's window up and pulling back onto the road, finally having a destination in mind. Jou wordlessly nodded, grateful to be out of the cold.

tbc.....

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! next chappie is gonna be....dun dun dun......yami and yugi's date!

and.....should i do a seto/jou lemon?