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Forget-Me-Not	By : KittuPaladin Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2065 -:- 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
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Candles filled the room sending shadows sweeping along the walls in a wild flickering dance. The golden light shed illumination on the lines of ancient script forged in ink so red it appeared to be blood on the floor.

He looked around, seeking something in the shadows. Searching for the source of the whispers that called him to this place. Haunting voices that drew him from his slumber, lured from his bed and safe home and made him come.

Malik

He spun around to where he thought the voice had come from, whipping his platinum locks into his face with the force of the movement. He found only candlelight and shadows. His lavender eyes narrowed.

"Who are you!" he demanded turning in guarded circles. A familiar soft chuckle answered him. Malik�s eyes darted toward the source and found nothing.

"What do you want!"

The chuckle came again then words, in a low smoky voice that seemed to reach out and warm his insides.

You�re a smart boy. What do you think I want?

He turned again toward the voice and found emptiness. Malik uttered a low frustrated growl and screamed, "Show yourself!"

He knew it was smiling. He could feel it, as it watched him, smile. Malik could almost picture the smile. Slowly spreading across its features, revealing bit by bit sharp white teeth that could sink into flesh. That he knew could sink into flesh, leaving its mark on him.

Malik shuddered and demanded again, "Who are you!"

You�ve forgotten.

The voice sounded a tad hurt with that revelation. He thought the voice pouted for awhile and mulled over the implications before continuing.

The flowers, forget-me-nots, they were a message. To not forget me�but you did.

The voice growled the last part and for a moment fear ballooned inside of Malik. He began to shake, regretting his decision to follow the whisper that awoke him. A cold wave hit him, turning his insides to ice. But then anger bloomed inside him, shoving down the fear and and warming his insides with righteous fury.

In the meanwhile, the voice went on unaware.

After all I did. The lovely dinner. The care I took. YOU FORGOT EVERY BIT! You forgot how gentle I carried you. How I watched over you.

"How about you watch me walk right out of here!" Malik snapped and turned to find the exit out of the strange place.

His eyes slid along each wall and found only dancing shadows. He paced across the floor and only found only bloody words. No door, no windows. No escape.

The voice laughed as he came to the realization he was trapped. And the laugh was familiar. Extremely familiar, as if he had heard the mad cackle very recently. But where, his mind screamed. Why can�t I remember?

Everyone forgets, but I expected more out of you, Malik. The voice told him. You�re different, you always were. Those tattoos on your back prove it.

"Shut up!" Malik growled. "I�ve done my duty and now I�m like everyone else."

Oh really, the voice taunted. Does anyone else have tattoos that span from firm shoulders down to a nice tight butt?

Malik chose to ignore the compliment to his physique, "They�re meaningless now that Yami has the information. They�re just scars now."

Scars that paint a very impressing picture. Scars that make people wonder, "How did quiet Malik Ishtar in gym class get those scars? Did he do it to himself�or did his nice daddy do it to him with a real sharp kni�

The voice didn�t get a chance to finish.

"Shut up!!!" Malik scream clutching at his head as he tightly gripped his hair. He sank to his knees with a soft cry. Memories came flooding back. Flashes of his troubled past came back to him.

Hopelessness. There was nothing he could do to escape his fate. There was no place to hide. No place to go. He had thought Rashid could take his place. But his hope was cruelly dashed as he was dragged away screaming and crying.

Terror. He was so scared of what the Ritual entailed. The fear of the pain that would come. The fear he would die. The fear that his father would do this to him.

Pain. The pain came fast and went on. Slow deliberate slices of the blade against sensitive flesh of his shoulders, all the way down his back. The pain in his jaw from clinching it against the gag in his mouth. The pain in his throat from so much screaming.

It was in those long moments of emotion that gave life to the darkest part of him. A part that was heartless, hateful, powerful. A yami. One that murdered his father, changed his life and that of others forever and led him down a dark road that destroyed many.

Malik became aware of arms surrounding him. Strong, warm arms that held him against their firm chest. Hands that moved his fingers free of his hair and smoothed his hair back. A voice that whispered things of comfort. He looked up and gasped.

Spiky long white hair, piercing dark brown eyes�It can�t be, his mind screamed. It can�t be�him!

"Hello." Bakura said with a small smirk on his face as he brushed back Malik�s hair. The Egyptian attempted to shove him away from himself but struggled in vain. Bakura turned him where his back was against his naked chest and held Malik�s arms down at his side.

"Now this reminds me of our last time together." He murmured nuzzling Malik�s head with his chin. "You were asleep, trembling as you are now."

"I�m not trembling!" Malik snapped elbowing the yami in the side. Other than a small grunt, Bakura gave no other reaction and continued speaking.

"I carried you into Ryou�s room and held you as slumbered." He cocked his head to the side where Malik could see him, "You were more responsive then. Sighing at my every touch. Whimpering when I stopped."

"You son of a�"

Bakura slapped a hand over his mouth and tisked, "Such language, Malik. Wherever did you learn such improper words?"

Malik said something angry in response but it was muffled by Bakura�s hand. But nonetheless, Bakura seemed to understand.

"I don�t think that�s physically possible." He replied with a chuckle and a nuzzled his captive�s neck. "Though with a little help on your part, I imagine I can try."

Malik let out a smothered shriek. He began kicking out with his legs in another attempt to free himself. All it seemed to do was slam his backside into hardened flesh. Bakura moaned deep in his throat causing Malik to freeze.

"Don�t stop on my account." The thief replied removing his hand from Malik�s mouth. "I was actually enjoying it."

"I hate you." Malik hissed with a scowl.

Bakura chuckled and murmured in his ear, "I remember you said something just like that before."

"Oh bite me!"

He chuckled and nipped at Malik�s ear, "With pleasure."

Before the teen could react, the yami had latched onto the previously discovered sensitive spot right below his ear and began giving it his undivided attention.

Malik went limp in Bakura�s arms as he let out a silent cry. Pain mixed with paralyzing pleasure as the yami ground his teeth into the exotic skin of his neck. Hands ghosted over his bare chest and caressed his sensitive nipples.

Icy shocks moved through Malik�s body as Bakura released him and gently blew on the wet, almost bloody spot on his neck. Malik moaned in delight.

"That�s more like it, my kurtisane." The yami murmured as his hands drifted down Malik�s body. "Cry out for me as before."

Malik cried out and threw his head back as Bakura�s hands began stroking his suddenly naked flesh, moving down to his hard arousal. Slowly he stroked the soft firm flesh, taking time enough to elicit lusty and low moans of pleasure from the teen.

Bakura chuckled and brushed his chin along his cheek, gently, a soft touch, barely felt. Even that simple show of affection seemed erotic in the strange haze Malik began to be enveloped in. The candles flickering in time with the long delicate strokes of pale hands. Shadows that played against the backdrop of tanned and ivory skin dancing to the pagan music they played to.

Malik�s lavender eyes drifted shut as he bucked his hips against the skilled hands that played him like a human trombone. Strange whimpers met his ears as Bakura moved one hand away and drew one of the Egyptian�s own to join his own hand. Together they played.

"Do you remember now?" Bakura whispered in Malik�s ear. "Do you remember our memorable time together?"

Malik murmured something foreign and bucked against their joined hands.

"That wasn�t an answer to my question." The yami replied with a chuckle. "Do you remember why I sent you flowers?"

Again Malik spoke in his native tongue in response.

"If you answer me, I�ll do as you asked." Bakura murmured and began toying with the earring, lapping at Malik�s sensitive ear.

He let out a cry, "Ra I remember! You and I�" Malik began speaking rapid fire Arabic mixed in with Ancient Egyptian.

"Good boy." Bakura replied before thrusting inside the Egyptian�s tight body. Again Malik cried out and felt himself begin to come�
His lavender eyes shot open upon his completion. He looked around his bedroom, expecting to be in some other place.

Blood red writing on the walls. Strange shadows dancing around. Him and no escape in sight. Malik frowned as he scooped up his bedding, cleaned himself off and slipped on a pair of pants before creeping into the laundry room to drop off and replace his sheets.

It was one of those dreams again. Every night for two weeks, one of those dreams always slips in. He sighed as he snatched up some light brown cotton sheets and dragged them back to his room. I�m glad Rashid hasn�t asked about the linens. Thank Ra for his discretion! I�m already embarrassed enough just dreaming those weird dreams�and about Bakura no less!!

Why couldn�t I have wet dreams about Tea or that Mai chick. Malik asked as he made up his bed. I�d be happy to have dreams with either girl or even that Duke guy the pharaoh was hanging out with at Battle City. He laughed quietly. He does kinda look like a girl�

After he was done making his bed, Malik laid back down upon it and brought his arms up under his head. But no, I�m dreaming of that wacko Bakura who�s grand idea for a first date is probably stealing the Millennium Items. That�s how we met anyway.

He sighed and turned over to his side as he shut his eyes. I have to get some sleep. In gym tomorrow, we�re doing track.

Malik winced, Means I�ll have to take a shower afterwards and everyone will see the scars again. He groaned and opened his eyes, which went wide a second later.

There on his dresser once again was a fresh bouquet of forget-me-nots.

He calmly walked over to the vase�

picked it up�

and threw it across the room with a loud curse.
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Forget-Me-Not