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Gravitation	By : DracOnyx Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > General Views: 4572 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Disclaimer - Nope, don't own them.
Author's Notes - Had to repost this chapter and chapter 14 since I accidentally posted two last time. Now I've got to separate them so I don't mess
myself up.

Chapter 13- Minor Confrontations

Yami smiled to himself as he got the bar set up for the night, his glance occasionally flitting over to Bakura, who was seated at the end of the bar, keeping
an eye on the crowd. Marik was in back making sure his costume and makeup were easily accessible for his set at the end of the night . . . after that, the
blonde would be out here as well. He shook his head slightly in amusement . . . who would have ever thought he would be acting like a love struck kid? He
could feel his powers inside his head, pulsing at the nearness of at least one of his loves, but they were completely restrained by the fact that these two
individuals knew everything about him and weren't afraid. It seemed that once he'd gotten over being afraid of himself, his control had grown in
proportion with the new strength his abilities had gained. Admittedly, he was still fearful of what they could do . . . but he knew now that he had enough
control not to harm those he loved.
He sighed suddenly as his eyes fell on Illyana Florentino. He hadn't had to deal with the woman since that first night Marik had appeared in his life . . .
apparently her husband had come back and required her presence. He really didn't feel like putting up with her unwanted advances again tonight. The
woman was dressed in a clingy, sheer black dress that showed nearly every asset she had . . . which, while being numerous, still didn't interest him in the
slightest. Her black hair was pulled up in a complicated hair style and she was wearing very high heeled shoes. That right there told him that she hadn't
come to the club to dance tonight . . . she'd come to try to get him into bed with her again. He rolled his eyes and busied himself with the bar. Maybe if he
could ignore her long enough . . .
"Why, hello handsome," she simpered, reaching out to run her crimson coated nails up the bare skin of his arm. He shivered, more in disgust than any
other feeling, and looked up, moving his arm out of reach.
"Hello, Illyana. Bar doesn't open for another two hours," he said politely.
"You know I didn't come for the drinks . . ." she murmured, batting her eyelashes at him. He suppressed a shudder at that . . . his initial hunch had been
right, she'd decided to make another go at getting him into her bed.
"Illyana," he said, "I know why you're here. But I'm not interested. I'm sorry." She sat back, affronted.
"How could you not be interested in this?" she asked, waving a hand at her scantily clad form. "If it's money, I have more than enough of it . . ." Yami
sighed and wished Jou would come back from seeing Mai to rescue him. He didn't know how many different ways he could tell this woman politely that
he was gay.
Marik approached the bar slowly, taking his time admiring his two lovers as he walked across the slowly filling dance floor. Bakura was wearing white
leather pants, tucked into black boots with a red silk shirt that was open most of the way to his stomach, his white hair gathered loosely at the nape of his
neck. Yami, on the other hand, was wearing black jeans and a gold cotton shirt with a black leather vest, his hair in it's usual spiky arrangement with the
gold streaks running up it. He still hadn't figured out if Yami deliberately did that to his hair or if it was natural. He paused for a moment as he got closer.
It looked like Yami had his hands full . . . and Bakura was looking none too pleased about it either. But Bakura couldn't do anything . . . officially, he
wasn't employed by Kaiba Corp to work as a bouncer at the bar, and could be thrown out if he started anything with one of the patrons. That wasn't
stopping Marik, however.
Marik sidled behind the bar, running a comforting hand over Bakura's leather clad leg to settle him before moving in behind Yami, wrapping his arms
around the shorter man's waist and bending down to place a loving kiss on the side of his neck.
"My stuff is ready for my set at the end of the night, love," he murmured . . . and then glanced up at the woman, taking in her wide eyes and suddenly pale
face. "Oh . . . I'm sorry. I hadn't realized you have a customer. I thought the bar didn't open for a bit yet." Lavender eyes regarded Illyana
contemplatively over one gold and leather clad shoulder before he straightened and held out his hand. "I'm Marik . . . one of the dancer's here at
Gravitation." Illyana took his hand limply.
"Illyana Florentino," she murmured, her voice hoarse as her eyes darted back and forth between Yami and Marik, and the one arm that the blonde teen had
kept wrapped around Yami's waist. "It's . . . nice to meet you." She stood abruptly. "I think I see some friends . . . please excuse me," she murmured
quickly, and left. Yami sagged against his taller lover suddenly.
"Gods, that woman just doesn't give up," the crimson eyed man murmured. He squeezed Marik suddenly in a brief hug. "Thanks for the timely rescue."
"Yeah . . . good move on that one, Marik," Bakura grumbled from where he had moved closer. "I was getting ready to tear her apart."
"I could tell," Marik replied, smoothing a hand through Yami's hair before snatching a stool from the other side of the bar and setting it in an out of the
way corner behind the counter to sit on. "How long has she been after you, Yami?"
"Too damn long," Yami muttered, putting his back to the counter so he could see both Marik and Bakura. "I can't begin to count how many times I've
told her I'm gay in as polite a way as possible."
"Some people you just can't be polite with," Bakura said. Marik grinned at his white haired lover at that.
"Bakura . . . you're never polite with anyone," he said. Bakura shot him a look over one shoulder, then shrugged.
"Most people don't deserve it," he snorted. "Speaking of which . . . here's comes Kaiba." Yami rolled his eyes, but turned around to face his boss.
"What the hell is going on here?" Kaiba snapped as he strode up to the bar. "I just saw Illyana Florentino walk out not five minutes after she got here." He
pointed at Yami. "If you insulted her . . ."
"I didn't insult her," Yami said shortly. "But I'm not a piece of meat either. It's in my contract that I have to be polite to the customers at all times,
including arrogant bitches who think they can buy anything . . . but I don't remember my contract stating that I had to tolerate unwanted advances and
being mauled on more than one occasion by the same individual."
"Would it hurt you to consider it? She's one of our biggest money patrons and . . ." Bakura slammed his hand down on the counter top, interrupting the
sapphire eyed millionaire.
"Just because Yami works for you doesn't mean he has to change who he is to suit your whims," the white haired man growled. "He said her advances
were unwanted, and that's precisely what they were. For your information, he's tried to tell her several times that he wasn't interested, quite politely, and
she wasn't listening."
"And who the fuck are you?" Seto growled, his blue eyes cold as he studied the shorter man.
"Bakura Nisar, Marik's bodyguard . . . and Yami's." Kaiba glared at him for a minute, and then turned his attention back to Yami.
"A bodyguard now? You're becoming nearly more trouble than you're worth, Yami Mutou . . ." Kaiba snarled. "I've had it with you thinking you run this
club! Between running out of here without warning . . . twice! . . . and having people behind the bar who clearly don't belong there . . ." he glanced at
Marik " . . . I grow tired of you thinking that you can break the rules and get away with it!"
"Kaiba . . ."Yami growled, his eyes growing redder as he held onto his temper, "in case you hadn't noticed, Marik works here, which makes him legal to
be behind the bar. And as I'm sure you're aware, the other night was a very severe emergency and if you think for even a moment I am putting this job
before my only living family, you are dead wrong." He moved slowly, his eyes never leaving Kaiba's as he withdrew his bartending license and his Kaiba
Corp. ID card from his wallet and laid them on the counter top. "Now then, Mr. Kaiba . . . if you don't want the 'trouble' you seem to think I cause, then
I'll just leave these here." Turning, he walked out from behind the bar and headed for the front door, leaving Kaiba, Marik, and Bakura all staring at him in
shock.
Bakura was the first to recover, standing up quickly to go after Yami when Marik's hand on his arm stopped him. He looked at his friend, puzzled as to
why Marik would want him to sit there and watch their love walk away . . . and then followed Marik's eyes to Kaiba. The millionaire was standing there, a
shell-shocked expression on his face. He woke up suddenly and strode off after Yami, his longer legs eating up the distance between the two men.
Kaiba reached out and spun the shorter man towards him, his blue eyes practically glowing with anger.
"Where do you think you're going?" he hissed. He was surprised when Yami shrugged his hand off, matching the taller man's anger with an anger of his
own.
"I'm leaving . . . I'm taking my 'trouble' elsewhere," Yami growled. "Find yourself another bartender . . . better yet, Duke can take my position and you
can hire Bakura as the new bouncer." He turned, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder once again. "Something I can do for you, Mr. Kaiba?" he
said, not turning around. The taller man was silent for a moment. Yami was just get ready to shrug the restraining hand off once again when Seto finally
spoke.
"Stay," he said, practically choking on the word. "I'm not going to find a better bartender than you for Gravitation . . . and I do understand why you had
to leave the other night. If it had been Mokuba . . ." his voice trailed off for a moment before he continued. "Look . . . just try to abide by the rules a little
bit more, okay? I can only allow so much . . ." Yami turned to look up at him, his crimson eyes serious.
"I don't break your rules on purpose, Seto," he murmured. Kaiba nodded.
"Yes, I know that . . ." the millionaire muttered and ran a hand through his hair. "Just get back behind the bar . . . please." Yami could tell it took all his
self control to add that one word at the end. Deciding his boss had been tortured enough for one day, now that his own temper had settled a bit, he turned
silently and made his way back to the bar.

*-------*-------*-------*-------*

Malik watched from the balcony above the dance floor as his playtoy-to-be walked back across the floor to the bar, where he joined the white haired
miscreant and Malik's errant slave. He licked his lips slowly, loving the challenge that Yami was going to present him. Such a delectable body . . . such a
dominant spirit and strong will . . . rarely had he come across such a beautiful toy that would prove such a joy to break. He fingered his temporarily
brunette hair impatiently, wishing he could claim his two pets now . . . but he would have to wait and watch carefully. This would take planning and
cautious preparation . . . but the wait would be so very worth the effort.
He sighed, frowning in irritation as he saw Marik kiss Yami lightly, then run a hand over Bakura's thigh before disappearing back behind the stage. Marik
was his toy . . . he shouldn't be touching or be being touched by anyone else, at least not without his master's permission. His little blonde slave needed a
severe punishment . . . although perhaps he would go lightly on the teenager for having brought such a delectable piece as Yami to his attention. Returning
to his shadowed table in the corner of the balcony, he sank into the chair and began to mull things over in his mind.
Going after the look-a-likes was not an option anymore . . . he hated to repeat himself, first of all, and he doubted that they would ever be left alone again
anyway. So what other option was there that would draw both Marik and Yami to him? An evil grin blossomed on his face as the answer came to him . . .
the one thing that both his toys shared. Bakura was the key to getting both of them . . . but he would be difficult to get alone and vulnerable.
But that was fine . . . Malik loved nothing more than a challenge. Perhaps . . . even Bakura could be made into a toy for him to play with. The grin spread
into a full fledged, blood thirsty smile at the thought. Yes . . . that would be ideal.
Settling back in his seat, sipping slowly on the Bloody Mary he had ordered (although he still wished it had real blood in it instead of tomato juice) he let
thoughts and plans filter through his mind as he absently watched the bar.

*-------*-------*-------*-------*

Yami shivered, drawing Bakura's attention to him from the other side of the bar from where he was working.
"You cold?" he asked his lover, one white eyebrow arching delicately over a warm brown eye as he regarded his lover.
"No," Yami murmured. "I just get this feeling that I'm being watched." Bakura smiled, one of the few genuine smiles Yami had ever seen cross the
bodyguard's face.
"Love . . . everyone at the bar has their eyes on you . . . not that I can blame them," he replied. Yami smiled slightly at the comment and then shrugged,
but the nagging feeling that unwelcome eyes were watching him refused to go away. He glanced around as he delivered a White Russian to one customer,
but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The dance floor was packed, as was the bar . . . and Bakura was right, a lot of eyes were on him as equally as they
were on the figures dancing a short distance away. He sighed and took another order, watching Jou out of the corner of his eye as the blonde went about
showing off, as was his usual style when working.
His eyes trailed over the rest of the packed dance club, pinpointing each one of his friends after a few moments. Tristan was over by the stage, lounging in
one corner as he kept an eye on the dance floor . . . Duke was near the door, backing up Atlas, who was outside playing god with the line of people
seeking entrance to the club. Mai was backstage with Ryou and Yugi, as was Marik, getting ready for their sets. Everyone was here and accounted for . . .
so why did he feel so uneasy? Malik wouldn't be stupid enough to come here and try anything again . . . so what was causing this reaction? Something
was out of whack, but he was at a loss to figure out what it could be.
Yami sighed, glancing at Bakura to calm himself. A slight smile graced his features as he watched Bakura continuously scan the dance crowd, his eyes
lingering longest on the patrons coming in the door before he swept the crowd on the floor and around the bar again. His white haired lover was simply an
amazing individual . . .strong willed and stubborn, he'd shown a surprisingly gentle and caring side with Marik and now Yami. Crimson eyes darkened
slightly with memory of what he'd been planning on doing before Bakura had shown up at the cabin . . . he'd fully intended to live out the rest of his life in
solitude, withdrawing from everyone he cared about in order to protect them. Of course, what Bakura didn't know . . . what he didn't really even know
himself . . . was how long that really would have been. He'd contemplated suicide enough times to know that he wouldn't have lasted long being isolated
like that . . . eventually, his will to live would have given out and he would have walked into the lake and drowned himself.
He was sure Jou suspected it . . . Jou had been the one to stop him from killing himself the first and only time he'd taken lives with his powers. He'd
desperately wanted to die then . . . wanted it more than anything else in the world. It was his will to live that had kept him thinking about it for as long as he
had . . . long enough for Jou to walk into the kitchen and snatch the knife out of his hand before enveloping him in a hug that had done nothing to still the
shaking that had set into his bones once the object was gone.
It had been a long, hard road back to life after that incident. Faced with police inquiries and possible charges for murder, the only thing that had kept him
sane had been his friends. In the end, the only thing that had kept him from jail was the fact that his fingerprints had been on none of the murder weapons,
and none of the witnesses could clearly state what had occurred. It hadn't been long after this that he'd received the letter from Solomon Motou asking
him to take Yugi under his wing. He'd been so sorely tempted to tell the man to keep his grandson away from him . . . his life had been a wreck, his very
emotional balance in shambles, and to be asked to take a young man from a small district into that mess had been nearly too much. He was thankful that he
had never sent the letter that he had actually wrote.
Yugi had saved him in a way none of the others could really comprehend. He'd walked into Yami's life, full of exuberance and light . . . and had done
more for Yami than his older cousin could ever repay. He'd shown Yami that life was worth living for the wonder it could hold if you just looked at
everything through new eyes. His jaded heart had healed in the light of Yugi's innocent soul . . . and he had slowly come to understand himself in a way
that had eluded him up to that point. He'd almost lost that clarity due to Malik . . . and with it, the small measure of sanity his cousin had helped him
regain.
He growled under his breath, concentrating on stirring the drink in his hands. Malik was still out there . . . wounded and hunted, but still on the loose, and
Yami knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he hadn't given up. He was like a mad wolf . . . even while wounded and hounded at every turn, he would
not give up his prey. Malik wanted Marik back . . . and now, Yami suspected that he might have drawn the demented man's attentions as well. That would
make him doubly dangerous . . . and even more hard to predict.
"Hey . . . stop thinking such serious thoughts," Jou murmured, coming to stand beside him as he reached for the Kahlua Yami had just finished using.
"We're bartenders, not politicians." Yami smiled up at his blonde friend, shaking his head in amusement.
"Yes, Jou," he replied, delivering the drink and taking another order. "I just can't help wondering what's going to happen next." Jou shrugged.
"Whatever happens, we'll deal with it. Let the rest of the world take care of itself, Yami . . . you've got two great new guys in your life to concentrate on."
Yami smiled and nodded.
"Yeah . . . that I do," he whispered. Bakura glanced over his shoulder and caught Yami's eyes on him, winking slightly before going back to his perusal of
the club's patrons, making Yami shake his head silently in amusement again.

*-------*-------*-------*-------*

The end of the night came much slower than Yami would have hoped for. He hadn't been able to get that feeling of being watched to go away until much
later in the evening, when things had become so busy that he hadn't had much time to think of anything but mixing drinks and dodging hands.
Thinking of dodging hands, he glanced sideways at Bakura, who had a scowl on his face as he watched the crowd at the bar. His white-haired lover had
come close to stepping in a number of times to rescue him from overzealous patrons . . . so far, he'd managed to keep a lid on his tempbut but Yami
wondered how long that was going to last. It seemed Bakura had a huge possessive streak . . . one that made him singularly dangerous to anyone who
tried to grope Yami without permission. The bartender smiled slightly at that thought . . . it felt strange to have someone so concerned about him that way.
He'd been dealing with things lihis his ever since he'd started at Gravitation . . . he was almost unconcerned about it now, except for when people like
Illyana showed up who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
Joey caught his attention suddenly, tugging lightly on a single strand of gold hair.
"Yo . . . Marik's up. I'll handle drinks . . . I'm sure you wanna watch this," Joey said with a smirk. Yami nodded, grinning as he turned to regard the
stage, which had been backlit with deep red lighting. He gasped, his grin widening into a smile as the music his blonde lover had chosen for his set tonight
registered. It was a little heard song, but one that Yami had always enjoyed . . . Cry Little Sister, by the Sisters of Mercy.
His eyes were glued to the stage as Marik appeared, seemingly out of thin air, dressed in skin tight black pants and a thin, transparent black shirt that
accented his tan skin and pale blonde hair beautifully. Over the crowd, lavender met crimson and chocolate as Marik began to dance . . . and it was
obvious that he wasn't dancing for the crowd below, he was dancing for his two lovers at the bar.
The tanned, lithe figure moved sensuously, gyrations of hip and leg as he flowed across the stage. Someone had gotten the idea of using a dry ice
machine, making it appear as if Marik danced among clouds, giving the entire thing a dark, mysterious aura that did nothing to calm the raging blood that
Yami could hear in his ears as he stared at the apparition.
"I am so going to fuck him raw when we get home," Bakura murmured before glancing at Yami. "Make that both of you . . ."he added, leaning over to tap
Yami's jaw closed. The crimson eyes left the stage for a moment to regard Bakura in amusement . . . before he leaned across the bar and pulled Bakura
out of his seat and into a heated kiss.
"Who's going to fuck who raw?" he whispered against soft lips, running a tongue lightly over his white-haired lovers full bottom lip before dipping in to
taste the sweet caverns of his mouth. Bakura moaned, leaning even closer as he grabbed the back of Yami's neck to steady himself in his precarious
position.
"I retract my former statement . . ." Bakura murmured as he drew back finally to breathe. "Seems Marik's dancing got you more worked up than me . . ."
Yami grinned as he spied Marik making his way towards them as the bar began to empty after his set.
"That would be because you've had him to yourself for longer than I have," Yami said, just as the blonde arrived at the bar.
"You two . . ." Marik began, planting his hands on his hips. "I can't leave the two of you alone for even a second." Lavender eyes were laughing and
hungry as he said this though . . . which rapidly changed to outright hunger as Yami pulled him into his arms, nibbling lightly on one mesh covered
collarbone as the arm around his waist brought him flush against the slight body.
"We couldn't help it, my beautiful one. You cast an amazing spell up there," Yami murmured, lightly grinding himself against the taller man. "It was either
relieve some pressure or find a way to get you off the stage faster." Marik grinned down at him.
"Well . . . I'm glad that you liked it," he whispered, leaning down to capture the bartender's lips softly. "It was for you, after all," he murmured.
Jou watched it all from a few paces away, sharing a glance with Duke over the counter top. They were relieved to see Yami so happy . . . their friend
deserved it after all he had been through. They only hoped it would last for him. The others wandered up slowly as the club became empty, all of them
wearing matching grins as they spied the couple behind the bar. Bakura remained sitting in his seat, watching his two lovers possessively, his eyes dark
with hunger.
"Why do I get this feeling that we're not going to be getting much sleep tonight?" Yugi giggled as he and Ryou arrived with Mai. Yami blushed and pulled
back to shoot a glare at his younger cousin.
"What makes you say that? You have ear plugs, don't you?" he replied, wrapping one arm around Marik's waist to keep the blonde from going anywhere
as he conversed with his hikari.
"Yeah," Yugi said, hopping up on a bar stool. "But I want to be able to hear Ryou's screams too, you know." Ryou blushed a deep crimson at this,
which made Yami chuckle.
"I guess we'll have to soundproof the walls in the bedrooms then," he said dryly. "Come on . . . let's get this shit cleaned up and head home."
Up above, in the balcony, Malik smiled. Soon he would make his move . . . and then he would have what he wanted. He was gone in a swirl of black
trench coat, a lingering air of malice all that remained of him in the club.
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Gravitation