Maniac

Maniac


Warnings: YAOI, PWP, slight OOCness, slightly AU, and lots o’ lemony goodness baby. Shoo kiddies.

Pairings: Ryou/Bakura

Notes: Ah, my first PWP for Yu-Gi-Oh *sigh*.

Thanks: To NEB! I LOVE this guy to DEATH. *glomps said friend*

Disclaimer: I do not claim rights to any YuGiOh references or character names. Don't sue me!

Kuri Suki: Ryou/Bakura *drools* Their like, my uno favorite pairing in the world!
Murdoc: And so is Yami/Yu-Gi and Seto/Jou and Anzu/Mai and…
Kuri Suki: *slaps* Their still my favorite…just tied with the rest.
Murdoc: *rubs head* Sure…

~*~

I groaned, slamming my head onto my keyboard furiously. This sucked!

“What sucks?” I jerked my head back up, looking to Bakura who had materialized by my bedroom’s door.
“N-nothing.” I mumbled, minimizing the Word Document that I had been writing in. The spirit frowned deeply, but said nothing else. I thought I had heard him mutter the word ‘idiot’ but wasn’t sure.

I waited, staring at the desktop on my laptop, nervously waiting for him to leave. Usually when he left the Ring he either needed to get out and terrorize random innocents because he had been dormant for far too long or just take a walk. He seemed to be thinking a lot lately, not as loud and cruel as he was almost every day. He had actually been quiet this last week. Yu-Gi had said that he had been by to speak with Yami, but he had also said that Yami wouldn’t tell him what the conversation had been about.

For Bakura to be acting this strange was something you warned the Pentagon and the National Guard about.

“I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.” He said, before jumping out my window.

I sighed; relieved he was gone but worried about his absence at the same time. I shook my head clear, keeping my bond with the spirit safely locked so that he wouldn’t know what I was doing and returned to my typing.

I stopped, remembering I didn’t know WHAT to type. Stupid writer’s block. This was only my 5,000th story and yet for every one I always got stuck RIGHT in the middle. I would have the plot sorted out and everything but then I wouldn’t be able to put it into words.

I closed my eyes, stumped completely but not willing to destroy my keyboard with my forehead again. These things were expensive damnit. I sat back into my chair a little further, crossing my arms and furrowing my eyebrows. I should be able to write this perfectly, I only knew the two main characters too personal for comfort. Well, one was myself so I guess I couldn’t possibly know more about myself than I already did, but the other one, the other character was difficult.

What was I talking about; Bakura was crazy, not difficult. That would have been an understatement.

I shuddered at the thought of him again. I don’t know how I’d do it, but I knew I would just kill myself if that man EVER read anything I wrote, better to do it before he got to anyway I mean. Maybe I could do it in a mental hospital, intimidate the criminally insane with a butter knife until one of them snaps…

I hung my head now, resting my chin on my chest. I was tired, but that’s ok, it was normal to be exhausted around midnight wasn’t it? I yawned, closing my eyes momentarily. I had to finish at least this chapter by tomorrow morning, I told the readers on AdultFanFiction.net (FanFiction.net was retarded and wouldn’t allow NC17 anymore) that I was on a ‘chapter a day’ diet, who would I be to let them down?

I felt myself begin to drift to sleep, but sat up, eyes wide open and starring hard at my screen, trying to burn my pupils with the light enough to wake me up again. I failed, miserably.

~*~

Kicking at the ground and dragging my feet as I walked I cursed under my breath. Fucking emotions, all they did was get in the way and weaken your resolve. They were my problem, and so was a little silver haired look alike, of all people.

Why couldn’t I uncover feelings for some other idiot, maybe that blonde or his friend, hell I’d even settle for the Ms. I-know-it-all-you-must-worship-me Anzu, and she was taken for crying out loud! But no, I had to lust after the body I was trapped in…which actually sounded kind of sick when said that way.

I had admitted it to Yami, letting my guard down, the whole nine yards, only because he had had the same problem a little while ago. He had liked Yu-Gi, but the kid hadn’t known until some freak accident where Yami let it slip. I wouldn’t do such a stupid thing, only because Yami got lucky and the brat had had a crush on him the entire time. Ryou wasn’t like that, I knew he hated me. Yami had said not to be so rash, but who was I anyway, a bastard who just found fun in horrifying nearly everyone in this small world.

Don’t look at me like that; I know I have weird hobbies. It comes from my past though; you should know that, you fanatic losers.

I sighed, stopping tt dot down on one of the cold park benches, hands shoved deep into my pockets seeking warmth. I fingered the box I found in the one pocket and the lighter I had grasped onto in the other. Ryou had yelled at me for smoking, but sue me, I had tried it once and learned the hard way that it was the present centuries number one cause for lung cancer yet they made it as addictive as chocolate had been in Egypt. It wasn’t nearly as rare here as the candy had been there, but I didn’t care, it kept my mind occupied for the time being, and that’s what I needed now.

I pulled out one of the cigarettes, lighting it effortlessly and shoving my free hand pack where it had been, lighter with it. Dragging slowly on the ‘stick o’ death’ I closed my eyes. Ryou was right, this sucked. I’m sure this situation wasn’t what he meant but the hell with it, I didn’t care. Or at least I distorted my mind, making myself think I didn’t care. I know I did, I just couldn’t help it. He had the biggest brown eyes…

“Stop it!” I hissed at myself through my teeth. I hated it every time I pictured him, subconsciously naming his better features.

I hated his eyes most. He could pull the saddest puppy dog look, and it just killed me inside. I never had been able to look that pathetic, and suddenly I was very glad of that, although it may have saved me the pain of ever being caught in a dark ally…alone.

“God DAMNIT Bakura!” I stood jerking my arms above me. Why was I letting all this fucking sympathy and self-pity getting through?

I stormed around the quiet park, kicking at whatever I felt deserved it and lightening another cigarette. Stupid world, stupid people, stupid Ryou. Fuck them all; they were doing this to me.

“Hello Bakura.”

I snapped around, glaring dangerously but only sneering when I noticed the ancient Pharaoh watching me from under a rather gloomy looking tree. I growled and turned my back to him walking away slowly, enjoying the last of the cigarette bitterly.

“Stop and talk to me.”
“I don’t need your ‘compassion’, Yami.”
“You don’t, maybe, but your attitude does.”
“Just leave me alone.”

I heard him sigh, but it was in no way a defeated gesture. If there was one thing I learned about this spifromfrom battling him was that he never just gave up. It was against his morals or something like that.

“Have you told him?”
“Hell no! You know I haven’t and I won’t!”
“Fine then, let me propose something to you.”

I huffed, “What?”

“What if Yu-Gi talked to Ryou, just to see. He would in no way hint at your feelings, but just establish Ryou’s ‘preference’. You’d be completely safe.”
“But then Yu-Gi would know.”
“You can trust him not to say anything.”
“No I can’t, you can. I won’t have you do it, don’t as aga again.”

I turned to see him nod once, “Very well. Just trying to help.” And he turned his back on me this time, walking away to disappear into the night.

I shook my head at his slender back. Why were people so kind? I had done nothing to deserve anything even similar to ‘help’, and yet he had been offering it to me, with no interest charges. He was too weakened by his emotions, and now it was starting to wear away at the Pharaoh I had once lived under. Maybe it was better for him, but I shivered, knowing I would never be able to stand myself so sweet and romantic.

Tossing the filter of the cigarette into the grass and stepping on it I walked out of the park next, not exactly following Yami, but in the same general direction to my own ‘home’. I don’t think I could consider it mine, but the Ring was anyway.

I had been out for almost a half and hour, twenty more minutes to get back, which should mean Ryou had gone to bed already. It was almost 1am; the pain in the ass needed his sleep.

~*~

Creeping quietly back through the open window, which just had to be on the second fucking floor, I was greeted with the harsh white light of Ryou’s laptop. The Word Document was open this time.

I grit my teeth, he had seemed so personal about the story earlier. He never let me read his thoughts or see through his eyes when he wrote these things, never let me touch them. I looked at him, noticing he was fast asleep and smirked evilly.

Hey, curiosity may have killed the cat but satisfaction brought him back.

Carefully, I got an arm behind his back and another under his knees, lifting him from the uncomfortable chair and into his pulled down covers. I tucked him in, not noticing the gentleness in my actions until I had stood back up to look at him snoring peacefully.

“Damnit…” I cursed inwardly, turning back to look at the writing on the screen.

Cautiously, I sat in the old wooden chair without it squeakind cld closed my eyes, not really sure what I was getting myself into but not really caring either. I took a slow, deep breath, before looking at the screen and scrolling to the top of the page. I was suddenly thankful Yami had helped me to know how to read English.

The title of the story was Fast Food, next were categories like Warnings and Notes and things. Some of the warnings said something like PWP, lemons, YAOI and other things. I frowned, not knowing what the hell it meant but continued anyway. The next subject was Pairings, but all it said was R/B. My frown deepened, but then the story started.

~*~

I smiled as I felt the softness of my pillow beneath my head, snuggling closer to the warmth of my bed. I had just left the realm of my dreams; content from the visions I had been treated to of Bakura, a normal Bakura, one who didn’t mask his emotions with anger and hate. I loved those dreams, almost as much as the wetter ones. Which brought my train of thoughts to another topic. My current story, I still couldn’t think of anything to put down, even though I could usually sleep my writer’s block off.

My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright as I remembered where I had really fallen aslet, at, and what was still opened on my desktop.

I turned, slowly, meeting large, identical chocolate eyes starring back at me. Bakura was sitting in my computer chair, three or four more documents opened on my laptop. I gasped, knowing he had read not one, but probably close to most of my stories…and all of them included him. Some were regular angst but most had been a product of my teenage hormones, and I knew he had found them. I hadn’t disguised the names, I had used Ryou and Bakura, and the others, and I knew I would have regretted doing so but I didn’t think I could ever be so careless.

I tensed, ready for him to burst into overloaded rage and loathing, tear into me like he usually did if I pissed him off good enough. Believe me, getting him raving mad wasn’t that hard.

But he didn’t move, just continued to stare back. There was no disgust or the like in his eyes, just confusion and a long, hard inner battle between himself. I sh hav have been able to feel it, know what was fighting against what, but he had the bond blocked, and my end was still sealed from when I had been writing. On an impulse, I opened my half, and felt nothing but coldness. He had blocked every part of his thinking off completely, and that scared me a little.

“Bakura?”

He still didn’t move, but he dropped his gaze from mine to stare at his hands. Now, I was really scared. If I thought the spirit had been acting strange before now I was seriously considering calling maybe the President, or the CIA…

“Why, Ryou?”
“Why what?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”

I looked at where his eyes were now, and felt my lips form the shape of an ‘O’ as I caught on to what he wanted to know. He wanted to know why I wrote about him and me doing…yeah. I would have smirked at the thought of it under other circumstances, but fought against it now, the object of my desire was obviously in turmoil over something. I sensed it didn’t have hardly anything to do with the stories themselves, but rather, what they were about and because of who had written them.

Now was my turn to drop my eyes, my cheeks flushing just about as red as Yu-Gi’s hair with the embarrassment of being caught. Distantly, somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if he had read Whipped Cream, that had been a particularly good PWP, but then I shook my head of the random thinking to focus on how I was going to answer my other hal

“

“I just wrote down what I couldn’t say out loud.” I heard myself mumble, and felt his eyes turn to burn into me.

I had thought it was repulsion, but when I looked to meet his steely eyes all I saw was a strange sheen of hope, his steady stare searching for something. I met him, eye for eye, but could not say anything else.

I soon found that nothing more needed to be said, as Bakura smiled, gently at first, but then it widened until it almost looked like it was going to jump off his face.

Ok, now I’ve seen Bakura smile before, but those were little smirks that promised destruction, and I knew he would be up to something, but this one was different, it looked genuine, it made his eyes glitter brigheveneven though they were nearly the color black. I was tempted to scoot away, fearing almost literally for my life when the smile slowly grew smaller, turning into a warm grin.

“Bakura? What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing. Not anymore.”

His voice was quiet and soft, not harsh like it usually was, and I barely had time to react when he leant forward, brushing timid, inexperienced lips across mine. He was determined, but he barely knew what he was doing. I think I wrote this scenario before, forgot the title though its been so long.

Almost a little too eagerly, I kissed him back, moving my lips against his and he put his arms around my waist, pulling me to the end of my bed. I knew he didn’t know what he was doing, and brought my hands to his neck and hair, encouraging my darker half as best I could.

He pulled away first to look down at me, and I couldn’t help but smile at the obvious rush of pleasure that had flooded his eyes.

“Ryou?”
“It’s ok Bakura.”

And I pressed forward again, connecting our lips but this time licking the part. He gasped in surprise and I took the opening, slipping my tongue inside to coax his to move. He did after a few seconds hesitation, and then caught on rather quickly to dominate the kiss.

I shuddered at the feeling of him slowly beginning to over power me, being the natural submissive I was. I had always written him as the dominant, I just hoped he really was.

I felt one of his hands move from my back to my chest, and I was pushed back into the mattress. I knew what he wanted, I had initiated the idea, but I wondered briefly if he knew how it worked. It didn’t matter anyway, everything rational was deleted when I felt the stiff member pressed into my hip, and moaned into the kiss. He started rubbing himself against me and whatever else that had been crossing my mind was immediately melted as I instinctively rubbed back.

I had to break the current kiss, pulling my tonsils back into my throat as I gasped for air. All I heard was his low groans, and had to stop him by grabbing his hips and pulling them tight against me, effectively stilling his desperate movements.

“No, don’t end it now.”

He moaned, kissing me again, and I deepened it. I felt his hands once again at my hips, pulling at my shirt until my stomach and chest were bared to the chill air of my room and his roaming fingers. I shivered under his curious ministrations, loving the feel of his larger hands on my skin. He gained courage with each sensitive place he found, the whimpers and mewls I heard escaping my throat edging him on.

I felt my body move on its own, my back arching as his lips lowered to a nipple and my hands tugging at his blue jeans, our hips moving together in small circles. The friction was horrible, a torturing tease, and one of my small-fingered hands withered its way down the front os res restricting pants. He hissed around my tortured nipple as my slightly cold hand made contact with his scorching member.

I mentally chuckled, he didn’t wear underwear.

That had been a conflict in my stories for sometime, I even wrote a story specifically about it. The fans had loved it, but now I knew for real. And I proceeded to tremble uncontrollably as I realized my shirt had been pulled off, and that I had kicked his pants to his ankles. It was all going by so fast, and I began to wonde he he really did know what he was doing, or if he was just fraught. I figured if he weren’t a virgin he wouldn’t have had any for a couple millennia.

I felt his lips moving downward, and found my hands moving up his back, pulling on the shirt he was wearing. It came off, as did my pants and boxers, and all three were thrown somewhere in my room, their location didn’t matter now, his tongue did, and that’s all I could concentrate on.

I gripped the sheets under me, clenching my eyes closed as I felt him nipping around my hipbone. It was an intense feeling of impatience, and I whimpered louder, begging.

‘Please…Bakura…’ I pleaded, my side of the link completely open.
‘Don’t worry little one.’ Was what was returned, and through the bond burst every emotion that was running through the spirits being right now as he opened his side of the channel.

I gasped as I tried to grasp them all: uncertain love, unadulterated lust, want, need, worry. All of them were unfamiliar coming from him, but I felt them, each and every one just as strong as the other, even though lust was currently highlighted, the hesitant love was still a close second place. I felt my chest swell and an authentic smile grace my lips as my member was lowelowed.

The choked half-gasp half-sob was all that could make it to the real world, the rest of my thoughts were so blocked up on each other that it felt like road rage. I felt tears in my eyes at the same time I felt my hips rolling to meet Bakura’s lips and my hands in his shoulder length hair, pushing his head down without trying to strangle him.

“Bakura…” I whispered, not sure if he heard it or not, but I heare tee tears loud and clear. I was not sad, much to the opposite; I was immensely happy, too happy to contain it and sat up, curling over Bakura so that I could watch him.

His eyes were closed in concentration, his cheeks puffing in and out with the alternated pressure and suction with his face a light pink due to the excitement. His right hand was pumping what he couldn’t get down his throat and his left arm was holding my body er, er, my legs still hanging off the edge of my bed. I smiled, breathing still heavy and the noises of appreciation still prominent, god did he have a wonderful tongue. The funny thing was, I doubted he’d ever blown anyone else before.

He looked up at me, slowing his pace as I started to become lost again, conscious thought melting as my orgasm approached. He knew I knew how he felt now, and I think he was looking for assurance when he withdrew to look me straight in the eyes. I was still smiling, trying to catch my breath, and leant down to kiss him a little harder than he probably expected.

‘Don’t be afraid of what you feel Bakura, I respect you. I love you. Don’t ever think your emotions make you weak. You’ll never be weak to me.’

I felt him moan beneath me where he was kneeling on the floor, his arms tightening around me and his touches grateful. I couldn’t help but pull him back on top of me, both of us laying back on my bed with his weight on mine. I pulled away from the shock of our erections touching, meeting his stare to smile up at him. He seemed overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed. It wasn’t just my dreams that were coming true; it was my stories as well. I wouldn’t wrack my brain right now to try and figure out if I had written this situation before but I would definitely be going through my files after I recovered from this…which might be a while. I was not about to let him go.

‘I trust you Bakura, please…’ I touched his cheek, my other hand still in his silver hair. He returned the smirk before rubbing against me again.

I watched his face twist in the pleasure of it and he seemed entranced with the way I must have looked. I cried out, as he pressed harder, not intending on finishing it off but wanting to test something. I didn’t have a clue as to what because I was too lost to think that hard. I felt his lips on mine; stealing a kiss before sitting back, weight on his elbows, which were placed alongside my head, lower body having fallen between my legs and eyes streaked with worry over something.

I read his mind perfectly and managed to nod at my nightstand, “Lotion…” I gasped out, and he immediately reached for it, looking back to me for help.

I took his hand, coated three fingers with the slightly fragrant moisturizer and slowly pulled the prepared fingers downward. He never took his eyes off mine as I lifted my right leg, allowing both our arms to fit and guided the first finger to my entrance.

‘One at a time.’ I instructed, unable to speak to him using my physical voice.

He nodded, pushing his index finger past the slightly relaxed ring of muscles slowly. I wiggled, trying to adjust to the uncomfortable intrusion, but managed to relax to allow him entrance to the digit. The next two followed, and I knew Bakura was getting the hang of it.

I sighed, as the fingers became a welcomed presence, thrusting in and out slowly, stretching and preparing. I waited, knowing there was something he should be getting close to, and screamed when he hit my prostate. But his fingers were immediately withdrawn, and I snapped my eyes open as part of his warmth left.

He was leaning back, weight now on his free outstretched arm, looking at me with wide eyes. I shook my head, leaning up to kiss him reassuringly before taking his wrist and directing it back. He was hesitating, before his fingers returned and sought out the same spot he had mistaken for pain. This time, he stroked it gently, and I moaned, feeling my arousal pulse.

Licking my lips, I closed my eyes and fell back into my mattress; wriggling around and thrusting vaguely back onto the probing digits. He, in the meanwhile, was marveling at how I felt, and I felt strangely accepted as this ran through our bond.

‘Now, give me the lotion.’ I said, and he handed me the small jar, fingers leaving my body in response.

I sat up a little again, kissing his neck as I could reach it and sucked on his ear slightly. I coated the hand I wasn’t holding myself up with and began to run my lotion-covered fingers over his substantial erection. He gasped and jerked, thrusting into the tunnel my hand made on instinct. Once completely covered in the white, slightly yellow lubricant, I lay back, wrapping my legs around his slim waist as he leant back down on his elbows.

With my hand still holding his throbbing hard-on, I guided him to my entrance the same way I had his fingers, and tensed with the anticipation of both pain and pleasure when the head of his manhood pushed past the ring first. I gasped, not realizing how well prepared I had been and relaxing as he pushed himself in to thet. Ht. He was panting with the tight fit, me writhing beneath him in my own ecstasy.

I locked my arms around his neck again and brought him as close as I could get him, chest-to-chest, forehead-to-forehead. I rolled my hips as he opened his eyes and licked his upper lip.

“Move…” I managed to gasp out, and he did.

Pulling out he thrust back in, breathing in hard and trying to control his body. I wouldn’t have it, and worked my muscles around his straining erection. I wanted it hard. It wasn’t long before he began to look like he was loosing the fight o keep control, trying to keep the long deep strides as if afraid this would be the last time I would allow him this pleasure.

I raked my short nails down his spine and jerked my hips into his; forcing him deeper, and I watched him snap. His movements were sharper, his pelvis rocking against mine as his thrusts grew harder and faster. I moaned and sobbed his name, being the only word I could form, and grasped onto his skin for dear life. I could feel the bed moving with the violent movements, but didn’t protest the rough lovemaking, much to the contrary, I loved it. I wanted more.

I lifted my head, biting his neck and he growled, a deep predatory sound in the back of his throat. As I had hoped, his pistoning came harder, his thick member plunging deeper as he went, brushing my prostate nearly every time.

I withdrew my teeth, needing to breath, but nursed the bite mark before being thrown back into the pillows. It was getting to be impossible to stand, such intense waves of bliss rolling along our bond. I could feel the sensations he was going through, inside me, and he could feel the ambiance of being filled. I couldn’t take it and grasped my own weeping erection. He groaned loudly, and I noticed his eyes on the hand working myself vigorously. One of his hands joined mine and my eyes clenched shut as I finally came, leaping over the end into the abyss of pure pleasure.

His name was all I heard as it fell from my lips, but I didn’t miss the feeling of his movements speeding up unbearably, increasing my orgasm moments before the warmth of his seed covered me inside.

His last, jerky thrusts were shallow and an attempt at prolonging the experience, before he finally, slowly fell to lie across my chest, his face nestled on the pillow by my shoulder and neck. His breath was hot on my swe sweat dripping off the both of us at the occurrence.

“Ryou…I-…thank you.” He murmured into my hair, and I heard the regret in his voice, felt it through our connection, and I knew what he had wanted to say. He was still too scared to let that much emotion show, but I knew he meant what he felt, and as long as I could sense it, and know it was there, than I didn’t need to hear him say it.

I gently ran my fingers around his pale back, enjoying his closeness and the comfortable circle of his arms and body. I opened my eyes lazily to look at the bite mark I had left on the juncture of shoulder and neck, smiling gently. He was just as much mine as I was now his.

Hazily in the back of my mind I noticed the sun was almost all the way up already, and that the rays of light were shining across us to add to the warmness. I wondered how long we had been…occupied, because it had been dark still when I remember waking up to him at my computer.

“Ryou?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did your stories say the author’s name was Maniac?”

I felt my cheeks flush an even brighter red than the ebbing passion had painted them, and I grinned nervously. He got back to leaning on one elbow to stare down at me, eyes curious again as he searched my expression.

“When…when I had first started posting my stories for people to read, my name had been Ring, for obvious reasons because I had been stumped as to what my pen name should be. Sometime after my fifth post someone mentioned you being somewhat of a maniac in one of the chapters to ‘Holiday’ [1], and I don’t know, I just changed my name to Maniac.” I heard the stumbling in my voice, but didn’t miss the tepid grin he was wearing.
“How sweet.” He commented, sarcasm not hidden in the least. I smacked his shoulder lightly and mock pouted, but all he did was laugh.

I listened to him as he moved, feeling his now softened cock slipping out unnoticed by him. His vowas was so affluent and unmasked now, uncovered for me only. I couldn’t help but reach up and kiss him one last time, curling my hand back into his hair and smiling around his pliant lips.

I was glad he had read my stories suddenly, as embarrassed as I had been and scared of his rejection, I was now so grateful. From the feelings I had read in his heart just moments before and now, I knew he loved me back, without him needing to say it.

Eventually, we fell back into the mattress, both exhausted and now completely content and sated, the first time in both our lives, and fell asleep in each other’s arms, feeling strangely nocturnal as the sun continued to beam.

There was one thought that was left crossing my mind though, and that was that I could finally write off of personal experiences now.

~*~

Owari…

[1] = Holiday was a story I had posted on FanFic.net for a while before the NC17 thing got started and it was deleted. Someone DID say that I had made Bakura sound like a (quote unquote) maniac and I dunno, just decided to tie it in with this one.

Murdoc: Aw, I’m so proud of you! You said cock!
Kuri Suki: *smacks* Actually, it was Takimashi.
Murdoc: Still *rubs back of head* he’s YOUR muse, so you’re the one who technically wrote it.
Kuri Suki: Shut up, he gets all the credit anyway.
Muse Takimashi: Why thank you.
Kuri Suki: Your very welcome. *glares at Murdoc’s snicker*