He Does Needy Good!
folder
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
897
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
897
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
He Does Needy Good!
I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, the story, or the characters. Wish I did, though.
“Don’t leave me.” The Master sat down on the edge of his bed. “Don’t ever leave me.” He was far from sober; Croquet could smell the wine on his breath. “Everyone always leaves.” His words were slurred a little, not much; you had to know him to notice.
He made room for him in bed. “Will you lie down?” The Master rested his head on Croquet’s shoulder; the smell of wine was overpowering.
“Hold me, Croquet.” You never saw the Master really drunk any more, not so it was obvious, but there were ways you could tell. He always drank more when he was alone. And he always came to Croquet’s bed when he’d been drinking; and he never came any other time. “Just,” the words were shaky, “just hold me.”
He was a tall man, but he curled up small, and cuddled like a small child. He didn’t pull away, or reprimand Croquet when he touched him. “Why do they all leave?” In a plaintive voice, “Why?”
Croquet smoothed his silver hair, tangled, and sweaty, where it fell over his face. “I’m sure I don’t know, sir.”
“You know.” The Master’s arms were tight around his ribs. “You could tell me.” He burrowed his face into Croquet’s neck. “But you won’t.”
Letting his fingers trace the outlines of the Master’s face, Croquet had no answer. I won’t leave you. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Sleep, Master Pegasus.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” running his lips along Croquet’s throat, kissing lightly, “not yet.” His mouth lingered, sucking, biting a little. “I want you to touch me.”
And you won’t talk to me in the morning, because I did it. It wasn’t good, when the Master was hungover, and he wasn’t allowed to help. But he was warm and close right now, and Croquet knew how his skin would feel, when he took off his pajamas.
On nights like these, and only on nights like these, the Master would be pleased by his attention. “Undress me,” he’d whisper, and he wanted Croquet to do it slowly, kissing each inch of skin, as he exposed it. “I love the way your lips feel.” His skin was smooth, and pale. “Kiss me.”
Croquet tasted the faint salt of sweat on his skin. He took his time, and the Master sighed, and murmured his enjoyment. “Lower.” He let his lips travel over his ribs, and across his stomach. “Like that, yes.”
There weren’t enough times like these, letting his teeth graze, just a little, the way the Master liked it. They came, and Croquet was already envisioning their end before his mouth even touched the Master’s erection. He took him in his mouth; he could do it just the way the Master liked it. He could give it to him so that he clutched Croquet’s head, begging him not to stop, and he screamed with the force of the release when he came.
And if the Master wanted more, he fucked him. He gave it to him fast and hard, sometimes; other times, he moved slowly, very gently, whispering endearments the whole time. The Master liked to be on his back. He stared up, with a dreamy smile, but after all he’d been drinking, Croquet wasn’t sure what he saw, if anything.
“I love you, Croquet.” They had to go back to his room, afterward, even though he was half asleep, and unsteady, from the wine. “You’re the only one who never leaves.” This time the Master made room in his bed. “Stay with me tonight.” Croquet wanted a shower, and his own bed, but he stayed. Because if I didn’t, he might never come back to mine.
The Master was asleep, almost before he was in bed. Croquet had his arm under his head, and their legs were tangled together; and he was the one closest to the wall. He still had to get out, though, before morning.
He had to be properly uniformed and silent, so the Master could ignore him. He had to serve, it was his job, after all. Perhaps Kaiba-san would come, or someone else, and it would be weeks before the Master needed him.
But Kaiba-san always left, and so did the others. And the Master hated to be alone; and when he was alone, he drank; and when he drank, he came to Croquet’s bed.
“Don’t leave me.” The Master sat down on the edge of his bed. “Don’t ever leave me.” He was far from sober; Croquet could smell the wine on his breath. “Everyone always leaves.” His words were slurred a little, not much; you had to know him to notice.
He made room for him in bed. “Will you lie down?” The Master rested his head on Croquet’s shoulder; the smell of wine was overpowering.
“Hold me, Croquet.” You never saw the Master really drunk any more, not so it was obvious, but there were ways you could tell. He always drank more when he was alone. And he always came to Croquet’s bed when he’d been drinking; and he never came any other time. “Just,” the words were shaky, “just hold me.”
He was a tall man, but he curled up small, and cuddled like a small child. He didn’t pull away, or reprimand Croquet when he touched him. “Why do they all leave?” In a plaintive voice, “Why?”
Croquet smoothed his silver hair, tangled, and sweaty, where it fell over his face. “I’m sure I don’t know, sir.”
“You know.” The Master’s arms were tight around his ribs. “You could tell me.” He burrowed his face into Croquet’s neck. “But you won’t.”
Letting his fingers trace the outlines of the Master’s face, Croquet had no answer. I won’t leave you. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Sleep, Master Pegasus.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” running his lips along Croquet’s throat, kissing lightly, “not yet.” His mouth lingered, sucking, biting a little. “I want you to touch me.”
And you won’t talk to me in the morning, because I did it. It wasn’t good, when the Master was hungover, and he wasn’t allowed to help. But he was warm and close right now, and Croquet knew how his skin would feel, when he took off his pajamas.
On nights like these, and only on nights like these, the Master would be pleased by his attention. “Undress me,” he’d whisper, and he wanted Croquet to do it slowly, kissing each inch of skin, as he exposed it. “I love the way your lips feel.” His skin was smooth, and pale. “Kiss me.”
Croquet tasted the faint salt of sweat on his skin. He took his time, and the Master sighed, and murmured his enjoyment. “Lower.” He let his lips travel over his ribs, and across his stomach. “Like that, yes.”
There weren’t enough times like these, letting his teeth graze, just a little, the way the Master liked it. They came, and Croquet was already envisioning their end before his mouth even touched the Master’s erection. He took him in his mouth; he could do it just the way the Master liked it. He could give it to him so that he clutched Croquet’s head, begging him not to stop, and he screamed with the force of the release when he came.
And if the Master wanted more, he fucked him. He gave it to him fast and hard, sometimes; other times, he moved slowly, very gently, whispering endearments the whole time. The Master liked to be on his back. He stared up, with a dreamy smile, but after all he’d been drinking, Croquet wasn’t sure what he saw, if anything.
“I love you, Croquet.” They had to go back to his room, afterward, even though he was half asleep, and unsteady, from the wine. “You’re the only one who never leaves.” This time the Master made room in his bed. “Stay with me tonight.” Croquet wanted a shower, and his own bed, but he stayed. Because if I didn’t, he might never come back to mine.
The Master was asleep, almost before he was in bed. Croquet had his arm under his head, and their legs were tangled together; and he was the one closest to the wall. He still had to get out, though, before morning.
He had to be properly uniformed and silent, so the Master could ignore him. He had to serve, it was his job, after all. Perhaps Kaiba-san would come, or someone else, and it would be weeks before the Master needed him.
But Kaiba-san always left, and so did the others. And the Master hated to be alone; and when he was alone, he drank; and when he drank, he came to Croquet’s bed.