Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 3381
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.

Okay, I have a few things to say right quick, then I’ll shut up. This is a really old story that I had completely forgot about. I ran across it again and decided to continue it. The role Ryou plays in his story is that of a Kaiba-type person. He’s a business guy, but believe me, I tried to get his personality away from Kaiba’s and keep it his own. Second, yes, there’s lemon, lime, and all kinds of shit in here. Drugs, sex, and rock n roll. There is a considerable drug and alcohol use and sex in this story. What can I say? I love the shit. Now, please enjoy and let me know what you think.


Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of the music in here.


Chapter 1 - Business as Usual


Ryou shoved some papers in his briefcase that sat atop his desk and briskly shut and locked it. He grabbed the handle and hurried from his large office, pressing the monitor button on his computer to turn the screen off. The door slammed behind him and he quickly turned, shoving a key into the handle and locking it. Glancing at his secretary, he turned on his heels and started down the hall to the elevator.


“Call Tanaka and tell him I’ll be about 20 minutes late,” he called over his shoulder to the woman, stepping into the elevator before it closed, not waiting for a response from the secretary.


Pressing the B-1 level, leading to the car garage, Ryou tapped his foot on the floor, glaring at his wrist watch. The doors opened finally to the dark garage and the man stepped out, heading to his silver 1970, completely restored, Chevy Chevelle. He unlocked the door and dropped into the driver’s seat, starting the car. He backed out of his parking space and drove out of the garage, pressing on the gas to try to get to his meeting faster.


Sometimes he hated doing this. This was his life. Rushing constantly, always on the go, always having something to worry about. But the money that came with it was something Ryou could not complain about. In a way, his job was similar to Kaiba’s, but he wasn’t in charge of something as big and complicated as Kaiba Corporation. He was head of a smaller company that did things in the book.... and things out of the book. He made a decent living to say the least.


The Chevelle shone brightly as the sun beamed down upon it when he turned into the restaurant parking lot and took the nearest space. He glanced in the rearview mirror and smoothed down his hair, then he brushed down the front of his business suit. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he stepped out of the car and looked at the restaurant for a moment, then slammed the car door closed and started to the front door.


“Here goes another,” he thought, silently, opening the glass door and going inside.




“Cut through me, living in the dirt,” Static X’s ‘Dirthouse’ played out of the stereo in the living room of the apartment. Bakura sat on the arm of the couch, counting out a wad of money, his head moving with the beat of the heavy metal. Marik walked out from down the hall, running a brush through his damp hair, stepping into the kitchen to grab an ice-cold bottle of beer. He put his hands down on the rim of the sink and leaned on them, poking his head through the open bar to look at Bakura.


“Hey,” he gruffly spoke.


“What?” Bakura acknowledged him without bringing his head up to look at him and continuing to count the money out.


“You gonna cut me in?” his blonde head motioned to the money in Bakura’s hands.


Bakura laid out three stacks on the couch, one of 100's, one of 50's, and one of 20's. He finally looked up at Marik, staring at him with an emotionless face for a minute.


“What’d you do to deserve a cut?” he questioned, raising his silver brows up, then dropping them down again.


Marik glared at him. Bakura knew perfectly well what he had done to deserve a cut from all that money. It wasn’t like he was asking for much, but then again, Bakura loved to play the role of the insensitive bastard. But one thing was wrong with that; Marik was the insensitive bastard. At least, that’s how everybody else viewed him, so he went with it.


“You know damn well what I did,” Marik growled at him, popping the cap off of the beer and taking a swig.


Bakura held the stack of 20's up in the air, “Come get it then.”


The Egyptian rolled his eyes as he walked into the living room and snagged the money out of the former tomb-raider’s hand. He stood back and quickly counted through the money, nodding his head once he was satisfied with the amount that had been given to him. To get anymore out of Bakura, Marik would have to pry it out of his cold dead hands and that certainly wasn’t going to happen.


Bakura pulled a 50 from the stack, then put the rest of the money into his pocket and stood up, “What are you doing tonight?”


Marik took another gulp of his beer as he glanced at the monthly calendar hanging on the wall, “What’s today?”


“The 18th,” was the reply.


“I’m heading downtown to one of the underground casinos to take care of something,” Marik answered, then looked back at Bakura, “If what you have to do involves downtown, I’ll help ya out. If not, you’re on your own.”


Bakura smirked as he grabbed his trench coat off of the back of the couch and pulled out a rather large brown paper sack. “I need this delivered by 2 and I need something picked up by 3,” he handed Marik the bag, some cash, and a piece of paper, “They’re not that far from each other. You can keep the change for a trip charge.”


Violet eyes read over the piece of paper, then looked back up at the spirit before him, “Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll take care of it.”


“Thanks,” Bakura nodded to him, then pulled on his trench coat, “Just call me when you get done with that. I’ll be up.”


“You’re always up,” Marik shook his head.


“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Bakura let a snicker escape his throat, “Good thing I’m already dead or I’d die from exhaustion.”


Marik followed Bakura to the door and held it open.


“Remember call me,” Bakura reminded him, stepping out of the apartment.


“Yeah, yeah, I know. Get outta here already,” Marik shoved him the rest of the way out of the door and shut the door, locking the bottom lock. “Later!” he called through the door.


“Fuck you,” Bakura called back as he went to the stairs and started down.




The clock on the oven read 12:30 am and the house was an eerie quiet. All the lights were turned off and it was pitch black. The silence was broken by the door being unlocked from the outside with a key. Ryou pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside, flipping on the hallway light switch that was next to the door. He stepped back and closed the door, locking it. His keys were tossed on the end table by the door and his coat was hung up in the hall closet.


He looked around a moment, then picked up his briefcase from the floor, muttering, “Guess no one’s here.”


He went up the stairs to his room and threw his briefcase on the bed, then plopped down next to it. He sighed as he loosened his tie and untied it, pulling it from around his neck. He undid the cuffs on his shirt, then unbuttoned the shirt, pulling it off to reveal his tight undershirt.


“I thought you were off early tonight,” the voice from the doorway made Ryou nearly jump out of his skin as he twisted around and his eyes fell upon Bakura leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed.


“Goddamn it, Bakura, don’t do that,” Ryou growled as he turned back around and threw his shoes off.


The dark spirit snickered at his light, then pushed himself off of the door jamb and walked toward the bed. He leaned on his hands behind Ryou, taking in a deep breath in of Ryou mixed with the workplace.


“You work too hard,” Bakura commented, bringing his arms around the man and pulling him against himself, leaning down to tease the pale flesh of Ryou’s neck.


“Not like you give a shit,” Ryou sucked in his breath between clenched teeth as Bakura moved up and down his neck.


The former tomb-raider paused, “You’re right. I don’t.” Then he continued, turning Ryou around and laying him down upon the bed, covering him with his body. He moved to Ryou’s mouth, shoving his tongue inside, dueling with his light.


//What time do you have to get up in the morning?// Bakura asked him through their mind-link so he didn’t break the kiss.


/Six,/ Ryou replied, unhappily.


Bakura glanced at the clock as he sat up, then looked down at Ryou with a smirk on his face, “Guess I better be quick then.”


Clothes disappeared quickly, covering the floor, and Ryou groaned as he was flipped over then given the order, “On your knees.”


He pushed himself up, leaning on his elbows. He felt Bakura move up against him, feeling up his ass. One finger slipped in, lubricated with spit, followed by a second and third finger. He pushed back onto the fingers trying to bury them deeper as they brushed against his prostate.


Bakura grinned at how he had Ryou in this state and pulled out his fingers, replacing them quickly with something much better. He gripped Ryou’s hips and rammed in and out, without waiting for his light to adjust to the feeling.


Ryou grunted, shoving back into Bakura, nearly knocking them back, catching his dark by surprise. Bakura shoved him completely down into the mattress in response, ramming into him ruthlessly. Ryou tried to push back up on his knees, but Bakura held him to the mattress.


The spirit leaned down and grabbed a handful of silver hair and pulled his head up, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. He pulled back up and pulled Ryou’s ass up with him, bringing the man to his knees once again. He reached around and gripped Ryou’s arousal, finally giving it much wanted attention.


Ryou moaned as his gut tightened, signaling his release was near. He pushed back against Bakura, moaning when his cock continually hit that bundle of nerves. One final thrust and Ryou tightened around Bakura, throwing his head back and releasing his seed upon the bed. Bakura’s senses overloaded at the tight heat around him and he released right behind his hikari.


Ryou’s knees wouldn’t hold him anymore and gave out under him. He fell to the bed, Bakura almost falling atop him, just catching himself at the last moment with his hands. The spirit pulled himself up and pulled out of Ryou, leaning back on his hands.


They both took a moment to gather themselves, then Bakura got up, grabbing his pants and his shirt off of the floor, and walked out of the room. Ryou laid there for a moment, then turned over on his back, staring at the ceiling. He still didn’t know why he let himself be used. He guessed it was because he liked the type of abuse... if one would call it that.




Bakura rolled over and squinted his eyes at his alarm clock that glared 1:23 pm in red at him. He untangled himself from the soft covers that surrounded him and nearly fell out of the bed onto the floor. He stood up straight by the bed and looked around the bedroom and scratched his head. He remembered fucking Ryou, going to Marik’s, then everything just faded from his memory. But, then again, he was used to that happening.


He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.


“Damn!” he cursed, “The room’s still bright.”


“Dumbass,” came a snicker from the doorway.


Bakura glared over at the doorway, squinting his eyes, trying to focus his vision enough to recognize the owner of the voice. His not sober self took a little longer to process things but three colors and a deep voice were very distinct.


“What the fuck are you doing here?” Bakura glared at the former pharaoh, “Wait, how the fuck did you get in?”


“You know, it’s not very safe to the leave the front door wide open all the time,” Yami looked down his nose at the spirit, “By the way, put on some fucking clothes!”


“Fuck you,” Bakura snapped, “It’s my house and you just waltz in here like you own the damn place. Suffer with staring at my shit. Stupid fucking son of a bitch…” and then went the angry mutterings that Bakura was so well-known for.


“See, that’s why people don’t like you,” Yami got that cocky look in his eyes, “You’re insane.”


“Yeah?” Bakura cocked his head toward Yami, “Man, you’re not even worth it, you scrawny little shit.” He shrugged off Yami as he looked around for a moment, then remembered what he had planned for the rest of the day.


“Good thing I make plans when I’m sober, or I’d never remember to do shit,” Bakura thought, walking to his closet, shoving the door open and stepping inside the walk-in area.


His eyes narrowed at a package atop the shelf above his head. He reached up and grabbed it, lifting it carefully to place it on the floor. He bent down on one knee and started to open it when a shadow covered his form. He peered up from under his bangs, his eyes glowing a slight hint of red, giving him a demonic look.


“What?” Yami blinked at him.


“Get the fuck outta my light, asswipe.”


Yami stepped to the side, but still watched Bakura’s hands open the package, pulling out a medium sized object wrapped in black cloth. He stood up and went over to his bed, setting it atop the mass of sheets. Going back to his closet, Bakura grabbed some jeans from his dresser top and slipped them on. He reached for a shirt, then decided against wearing a shirt. He was in his own house, after all.


The former tomb-raider looked over at Yami and followed his gaze to the object he had set atop his bed. He stepped forward and snapped his fingers in front of the other spirit’s face, bringing crimson eyes to his.


“Something of interest to you here?” Bakura questioned, cooly.


“Perhaps,” was the reply in a tone that made Bakura want to throttle the other.


“Why the fuck are you still here?” Bakura stepped closer to Yami, a glare fixating upon his face, “Ryou lets you in and I don’t see him here, so get the fuck out of my house.”


“I had an open invitation,” Yami gave him a smug look.


Bakura’s eyes changed from brown to red and he leaned back, fisting his hand into a ball. He reared back and caught Yami square in the jaw with his fist, knocking him back flat on his back before the former pharaoh knew what was happening. He smirked down at the sprawled out spirit before him and walked next to him, reaching down to grab the collar of his shirt and drag him out of the room and down the hall.


He dragged him down the stairs, making sure to make his head hit every step with a devious smirk on his pale face. He drug him to the front door and opened it, tossing him out onto the yard.


“The door was closed this time,” he snarled at the other spirit, then closed and locked the door in front of him, preventing from them seeing one another. “I hate that motherfucker…” he grumbled as he turned around and headed back up the stairs to his room.




Ryou sat in his office, staring at a computer screen, leaning back in his leather chair. He brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose and pinched, letting out a sigh. He had a big meeting first thing in the morning and hadn’t even come up with the plans for merging into a bigger company. He had started some random notes, but now he sat at the computer, drawing a complete blank for how to do this.


“Fuck,” he growled and looked away from the screen, glaring at the wall instead. His eyes burned and he had a massive headache. He’d been up for already 16 hours, just spent at work. He hadn’t been getting that much sleep anyway with the way he came home late all the time and Bakura wanting to fuck. It seemed to him that he kept repeating the same routine with his life. Work, fuck, sleep. Work, fuck, sleep. It was insane. Everyday.


A knock on the door brought him from his thoughts.


“Yes?” he raised his voice to speak.


“Mr. Bakura?” his secretary poked her head into his office and looked over at him.


“Yes?” he repeated, sounding slightly annoyed.


“I was wondering... It’s 11 o’clock and I need to go home to my daughter,” she spoke softly and politely.


He looked at her for a moment, then looked away to the computer screen to continue what he had been doing before his mind started to drift, “Go ahead. Since the meeting is in the morning tomorrow, I’ll let you go early in the afternoon to reward you for helping me this evening. Thanks, Lexi.”


She nodded to him and murmured a thank-you as she closed the door. Once Ryou heard she was down the hall, he grabbed his stereo remote and clicked it onto a Static X CD. “The Enemy” started playing softly into the office, the heavy guitar bouncing off the walls so it didn’t need to be loud.


The meeting in the morning was at 8 sharp. Ryou had nine hours to put together something good. He scooted his chair closer to the computer and began typing, pouring out everything that had to do with the merge. Anything his mind came up with that could possibly help him.




Yugi had to stifle a snicker as he rubbed disinfectant on a cut on Yami’s head. Yami had told him what had happened. And, honestly, Yugi found the situation quite amusing. He knew Yami was always testing his luck when he was around Bakura.


“I know you’re laughing!” Yami growled at him, hissing as the disinfectant was rubbed against his open wound, “It’s not funny.”


“He always said he would and he-”


“I don’t want to hear it,” Yami interrupted him before he could finish. He knew what Yugi was going to say, he just didn’t want to hear it aloud.


Yugi became quiet as he put a bandage on the cut, then went to wash his hands. He still couldn’t get over the fact that Bakura finally knocked the former pharaoh out cold. It had been threatened so many times, it was bound to happen any time soon.... and it did.


“I’ll get that bastard for this,” Yami practically seethed, rubbing his aching head.


“You must have really pissed him off this time,” Yugi said, pulling an ice pack from the freezer and handing it to Yami, “What’d you do? Or say?”


“Nothing to get hit for!”


“That’s not what Bakura thought,” Yugi muttered, cracking a grin when the spirit glared toward him. Then a thought clicked and he asked, “Why were you over there when Ryou wasn’t there anyway?”


“I went for a walk and ended up over on their side of town. I just decided to drop-”


“You know Ryou’s at work all the time.”


A glare returned on the spirit’s face and was sent Yugi’s way again. It was, of course, returned with an innocent smile. He then sent an image across the mind-link that made Yami look at him in shock and disgust.


“Yugi!” he snapped, not able to get his jaw closed yet.


“You know you want it to happen,” Yugi snipped, walking out of the kitchen, giggling, all the while Yami was gawking at his retreating form.


The former pharaoh finally regained his exposure and called out, “No fucking way! Not in a thousand millennia!”


Yugi couldn’t hold it in anymore and threw his head back, laughing his ass off as he tried to climb the stairs.




Marik made his way out of the underground casino, quite satisfied with himself. His pockets were full of cash and drugs. Yes, it had been a very good night. Now all he had to do was those favors for Bakura.


He hopped on his bike and revved up, taking off into the street, other drivers shouting at him and flipping him off. He let out a snort and shook his head, taking a sharp turn to the right. He sped down the street and passed up the address Bakura had written down, glancing at it as he drove by, checking out the place. It looked secure enough. He saw no cops and only a few people. They would probably be expecting him since he was there to deliver something.


Making a u-turn in the middle of the street, earning angry yells from other drivers yet again, he drove up to the address and turned off the bike. He looked up at the place. A two story building that he had no idea what it was used for. He swung his long leg over the side of the bike and headed to the door, knocking twice hard.


A scrawny brunet answered the door, looking at him up and down.


Marik cocked his head at the smaller man, narrowing his eyes, “You gonna fucking stare at me all day or let me in?”


Another man passed by the doorway and looked out, noticing the blond spikes. He shoved the brunet out of the way and motioned Marik in with his head.


“Bakura busy?” the man asked.


Marik shrugged, “Hell if I know. Now who’s getting this?” he pulled out the paper sack and held it up to his chest.


“I am,” the man replied, taking it from the Egyptian’s hand and replacing it with a wad cash.


“You’re Jimmy?”


He nodded.


“Alright,” Marik turned and walked back out of the door and hopped back on his bike, taking off down the street.


He was satisfied. Only one more stop to make, then he could go home and relax. He turned around again and headed to his next destination. Hopefully this one would be just as simple and as easy. He sped up. Maybe it wouldn’t be, maybe it would be. He was in such a mood where he felt he could deal with either easily.




Bakura lit up a cigarette, using his hand to shield the flame from the wind. He pocketed his lighter, then looked ahead of him down the street. Small rays of light were starting to strike down upon the city streets, the sun peeking over the horizon as it began its journey to climb the sky.


He glared at the rising sun. He hated being out in the day if he didn’t have to. He supposed he could go back home to expect Ryou to not be there or stay out, maybe scare some pedestrians and pick-pocket everyone. Pulling out his cell phone, he flipped it open, then closed and looked at the screen to see the time. Nearly 6 o’clock.


He turned around, starting to head home when he decided he did not want to be out for someone to fuck with him. The thought of his house came into his head and headed towards it a little, then stopped with a wicked smirk on his face.


Taking the wrong turn that was opposite of his house, he headed toward Ryou’s place of work. His light couldn’t deny him access to his office and to him.

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