Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Furious Angels	By : rayemars Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > General Views: 955 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. No money is being made from this fanfic, so don't sue; I'm just a college kid with no money left to eat.

Remember, in real life, condoms are your friends. They prevent all sorts of nasty things, like HIV and venereal diseases and children who grow up to be consultants and lawyers.ess ess they're lawyers like Maury Maverick, Jr. The world needs more people like him.

This chapter contains non-consensual sex.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're a dirty needle
You're in my blood and there's no curing me. . .
'Cause love, like a sentence of death has left me stunned
And I'm reeling -- yeah, I'm reeling
And if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me"

"Ry�, what's this kanji?"

Bakura glanced up from his homework and looked into the living room. He couldn't see the other teenager over the couch, but he knew Malik was probably glaring at his dictionary in frustration. He left the table.

Malik was sitting on the floor with a book and two dictionaries scattered around him. Bakura had never bothered to ask why he didn't prefer the couch -- he'd come to terms with the fact that Malik liked seats and mattresses and so on as firm as possible and just assumed it was because the darker teenager had never really adjusted from the rock furniture of his old home. Bakura sat down on the couch and took the book from Malik's hand.

"It's . . ." Bakura frowned. "Hm. I haven't seen this one in a long time. It means . . . um. . . ."

Malik gestured towards the Arabic/Japanese dictionary Bakura had searched for and given to him when he'd said he wanted to start learning to read the language. "I counted the strokes, but it's not in here." He muttered something derogatory under his breath.

"Mm," Bakura replied distractedly.

Malik leaned back against the couch, draping an arm over Bakura's legs and kneading the back of his neck with his free hand as he stared up at the ceiling. "I'm done for the night."

"Ah," Bakura said, glancing up from the book. "It means something like 'protect.' But not really. It's more . . . 'to hold someone under your wing'?"

Malik blinked at him. "Wings," he said flatly.

"It's an idiom," Bakura replied, holding the book back out.

"Right," Malik muttered, glancing at the page number before shutting it and picking up the dictionaries.

Bakura stood and stretched. "I'm a little tired too. I'm going to go shower."

"Fine," Malik replied, dropping the books onto the top of the bookcase. Bakura collected his homework from the table and headed for his bedroom.

By the time he was out of the bathroom, the lights in the kitchen and living room were off and he could hear Malik banging drawers in the bedroom. Bakura absently pushed back his still-damp hair as he crossed the hallway and entered the room.

Malik had stripped down to his jeans, and he was rummaging through the top drawer of Bakura's dresser, swearing under his breath. The paler teen watched him in amusement for a few seconds before speaking. "What on earth are you loo for for? All I have in there are socks and things."

Malik shoved the drawer closed. One of his hands was curled around something, but Bakura couldn't make out what it was before Malik jammed the hand into his pocket. The Egyptian crossed the room, pushing the other teenager against the wall and kissing him abruptly. Bakura rolled his eyes, but he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along Malik's lower lip.

Malik let him in a moment later, wrapping one hand around Bakura's wrist and pulling the other from his pocket to do the same. He pushed the paler teenager's arms up and pinned them against the wall, crossing one wrist over the other and holding them in a hand. His other hand fell back to his pocket again.

Bakura made a faint irritated noise under his breath at Malik's actions, but he only pressed his hips forward, rocking against the Egyptian. Malik pulled Bakura's hands away a little from the wall and Bakura tried to tug free from his grip then, but the other teen wouldn't let go. Bakura sighed against Malik's lips in annoyance and ran his tongue over the roof of the other teen's mouth, deciding to distract him to the point that he would be able to pull free.

Then Malik's free hand draped something over Bakura's wrists.

Bakura's eyes opened and he jerked his head back, but Malik moved fast. He had already made a preliminary knot in the tie around Bakura's wrists before the paler teen wrenched his hands down. Malik kept a hold on the ends of the fabric, and as Bakura tried to tug free he yanked them around his wrists once more and tied another knot, more tightly this time.

"Let me go!" Bakura demanded, trying to flex his wrists to loosen the fabric. Malik ignored the comment, and he didn't look up as he used his body to pin the other teenager to the wall, the movement trapping Bakura's hands against his chest. He had to struggle to pull the ends of the tie back down again, since Bakura was now actively fighting to get free, but he managed to make another knot before yanking the ends harshly to tighten it. Bakura winced, and Malik used the second of distraction to tie a second knot.

"Malik, stop it!" Bakura hissed, still trying to wrench his wrists apart enough to escape. "I'm not kidding! You know I don't like this--"

"," ," Malik interrupted, dropping the ends of the tie. He took a step back and grabbed Bakura's upper arms, holding the other teenager against the wall. "Then don't like it. Hate it even, damn it," Malik sailarilaring at him. "At least that's something! I am so sick of the way you won't feel anything, you won't let me in, you won't. . . . Just fucking act like there's something left in you for once!" he half-yelled, before leaning forward and pressing his lips against Bakura's.

Bakura shoved him hard, and Malik stumbled back but kept his grip on the paler teenager's arms. With owl,owl, he yanked Bakura around and began to push him toward the bed. Bakura dug his heels into the carpet, but Malik managed to force him backwards until the side of the bed hit him in the back of his knees. The Egyptian shoved him down against the mattress before grabbing his hands again. He sat down on Bakura's chest, leg leg still braced on the floor, when the paler teen tried to get back up.

"Stop i>!">!" Bakura yelled, his voice almost cracking. "Malik, I mean it!"

"Shut up," Malik said, grabbing the remaining ends of the tie and pressing Bakura's wrists against one of the headboard's slats. "Or the neighbors are going to hear." He wrapped the ends around the slat once, tied a knot, wrapped them around again, tied a double knot, and then he was out of fabric. He gave the fabric a critical look, but decided it was good enough and began to sit back. He braced one of his hands on Bakura's chest to do so, and that was when he realized just how fast the paler teen's heart was racing. Malik glanced down, noticing the anger and panic in Bakura's eyes as he glared up at him.

Malik pulled the foot that he'd braced on the floor up onto the bed, before sliding down so that he wasped ped across the other teenager. He wrapped both of his legs around one of Bakura's own, absently rubbing the edge of his foot against the paler teen's ankle. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, kissing the side of Bakura's neck and moving down to run a tongue along his collarbone. "Don't you know that?"

Malik almost bit his tongue when Bakura bucked up, wrenching the tie as hard as he could. There was a small ripping sound, but the fabric didn't give. Malik pushed himself up on his arms, glaring down at Bakura in annoyance as the other teenager panted harshly.

Then, a moment later, Bakura closed his eyes and the tension that had been running through his muscles collapsed, leaving him slack beneath the Egyptian.

Malik frowned. "Ry�. Look at me."

Bakura ignored him and kept his face blank.

Malik swore and dropped back down, kissing Bakura again. He pushed his tongue against the seam of the other teenager's lips, demanding entrance, and Bakura opened silently.

Pleased with the reaction -- slight as it was -- Malik shifted and ran his hands down Bakura's sides, dipping his fingers into the faintly discernable spaces between the paler teen's ribs. When he reached the waist of Bakura's pajama pants, he slid his fingers underneath and traced the lines of his hipbones, before hooking his thumbs in the elastic and pulling them down. Bakura lifted his hips and brought his legs up to help, so Malik got the pants off fairly easily. He tossed them to the side before shucking off his jeans and dropping them on the carpet as well.

Malik braced his hands further up the bed and began to slide back up, running his tongue along the inside of Bakura's thigh and deliberately letting his hair brush against the paler teen's hardening erection. He trailed his tongue back along Bakura's hipbones and across his lower abdomen, biting the skin below his navel before dipping his tongue briefly inside.

Bakura pushed his hips up slightly at that, but Malik only smirked and continued sliding upwards. He ran his tongue quickly over the center of Bakura's chest before licking the hollow of his throat and kissing the skin over his Adam's apple. He ran one of his hands back down Bakura's chest, brushing teasingly over a nipple as he did, and moving down to trace the muscles of his stomach and the line of his pelvic bone. Then he wrapped it around the other teenager's erection and beginning to stroke slowly, feeling the flesh grow heavy and warmer in his hand.

Bakura's breath hitched, and Malik could feel him swallow against his lips. The blond rocked against him, smiling at the way Bakura reflexively pushed up. He lifted his head to nip the paler teen's earlobe, only to notice that Bakura's eyes were still closed.

Malik's gaze narrowed and the frown returned to his face.

A moment later, he let go of Bakura and braced his hand next to his hip. The other teen gave a soft, unhappy moan at that, but Malik pushed himself up enough that only their legs were still touching. The air of the room, suddenly too cool, brushed across his stomach and erection. Malik shivered involuntarily, but only said, "Ry�, look at me."

Bakura didn't appear to have heard him, or to have listened if he did, because his eyes remained shut. The corner of Malik's mouth twisted up, baring his teeth. "Ry�. . . ."

Bakurankednked before finally looking up at the blond, his normally-pale blue eyes now several shades darker. He pushed his hips up as much as he could, erection barely brushing Malik's own.

Malik's gaze was half-lidded as he stared at Bakura for several more long seconds, before the strain on his arms made them tremble despite himself. He shifted forward, fumbling along the surface of the desk that Bakura's bed was set against.

He found the tube a moment later and grabbed it before he could accidentally knock it off. Then he sank back onto the other teenager, moving one of his legs so that he was lying between Bakura's own. Bakura spread them further apart to give him more room.

Though he enjoyed the friction that came from rubbing his erection against Bakura's, it wasn't enough. Malik forced himself onto his knees a moment later before sitting up. He reached down and carefully pushed the foreskin of his erection back, gritting his teeth at the hyper-sensitive skin beneath. Then he uncapped the lube and squeezed some out, smearing it along his palms. He began rubbing it along his flesh, starting at the base and working his way to the tip in order to give the sensitivity a chance to lighten.

Once he was finished, Malik reluctantly pulled his hand away and squirted a little more lube onto his fingers, rubbing it around briefly before pressing two of them against Bakura's entrance. The other teenager shifted his legs slightly, making himself more accessible.

The corner of Malik's mouth tilted up in an almost-smile, and he pushed one finger inside, watching Bakura's face intently as the paler teen bit down on his lip. He pulled back a little and added the second one, scissoring them just a bit, just enough to let him adjust. He pulled out a moment later, brushing his thumb up the underside of Bakura's erection. Bakura half-moaned at that and pushed up to get more contact, allowing Malik to slide a hand beneath him and prop his hips. With a low sigh, Bakura lifted one of his feet and pressed the top of it against the back of Malik's thigh, urging the darker teen forward.

Malik obeyed readily, positioning himself and pushing inside with a hiss. Once he was in completely, he stilled and rested his head in the crook of Bakura's neck. The thin sheen of sweat on the paler teenager's skin was salty against his lips, and Malik licked it before lifting his head.

Bakura's eyes were closed again, and Malik growled between his teeth, the sound a mixture of frustration and pain. He moved so that his hands were splayed across Bakura's hips, and the grip a little tighter than was comfortable but Bakura didn't mention it. He pulled back and glanced at the other teen's face again, before pushing in hard.

Bakura's groan was low but satisfied as he pressed his head into the pillow. After two more thrusts, he braced his feet on the bed and began pushing back as much as his bound hands would allow.

Malik's strokes became a little shorter when he leaned down again and licked the stretched curve of Bakura's throat. He traced the paler teen's jaw with his lips until he reached Bakura's ear; and in between his pants Malik mumbled the same words he always did. Bakura didn't reply, but he never replied, so Malik didn't pay attention.

Malik pulled away again, and Bakura's breath hitched when the darker teen ran his hands down his upper thighs before suddenly sliding beneath and lifting them higher. Malik scooted forward and sat back on his feet, tucking his knees beneath Bakura's lower body as he did. He accidentally slipped out when he moved, and both teenagers made dissatisfied noises at that, Malik's louder than Bakura's.

Impatiently, Malik wrapped Bakura's legs around his waist, and the other teen interlocked his feet loosely behind the Egyptian's back. Malik situated himself and began to push in again, slowly, before he returned his grip to Bakura's waist. He pressed the paler teen's hips down as he moved forward, sure that the angle would be right.

When Bakura gave a strangled cry and arched his back, trying to shove harder against him, he knew it was.

Malik laughed, the sound short because of his lack of breath but still pleased, and began moving faster. Bakura used his legs to pull the darker teen closer to him, arching up again and trying to get some sort of friction against his erection. His hands clenched above the fabric of the tie. "Ma . . . Malik. . . ."

Malik pressed Bakura's hips down once more and pushed in as hard as he could, enjoying Bakura's even louder cry. Then he lifted one hand and wiped away the sweat on his forehead that was threatening to drip into his eyes, before wrapping it around Bakura and stroking him roughly. The movements weren't in time with their rhythm, but Bakura didn't care; and when Malik thrust inside him again and rubbed across that spot, he came with a wordless shout.

Malik let go and ran his fingers through the semen that had spilled onto Bakura's stomach, smearing it further, before bringing his hand back to the paler teen's hip. All the tension in Bakura's muscles had disappeared and left him lax in Malik's hands, and his legs had fallen to splay around Malik's own. The darker teenager gripped him tighter as his thrusts grew more ragged, losing his care for Bakura in the need to reach his own release. It was so close . . . just a little more. . . .

There.

Malik tensed up for a second, his muscles corded and straining and his jaw clenched. Then he relaxed and a moment later sank down on top of Bakura, stretching out his legs so that they touched the end of the bed. He rested his head on the paler teen's chest, listening to the violent pounding of Bakura's heart and to the way it eventually slowed down.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but for him it didn't feel long enough. Bakura took a deep breath, the sudden heave of his chest shaking Malik out of his haze.

". . . it hurts," Bakura said quietly.

Malik only blinked at first, but then his eyes widened as he realized what Bakura meant, and he sat up. The action caused him to slide out of the other teenager, and Bakura grimaced when he felt semen trickle out. Malik was busy unknotting the tie and didn't notice.

When he was free, Bakura's numb arms fell straight down, him being unable to move them to a more natural position. Malik threw one of his legs over Bakura's waist so that he was straddling him and leaned down, rubbing the paler teenager's arms in an effort to get the circulation back.

Bakura made a soft noise when the feeling began to return, and Malik moved off. The Egyptian stretched out beside him, draping an arm over Bakura's chest and twisting strands of pale hair between his fingers. Bakura let him.

Bakura remained awake for a long time after Malik fell asleep, rubbing his wrists.

Malik slept through the alarm the next morning, like always. Bakura kept it loud -- a habit picked up from missing first period several times because the thief who'd been borrowing his body had decided to stay up half the night before doing things he didn't want to think about -- but it never seemed to be loud enough to get through to the Egyptian. He did wake when Bakura had to crawl over him to get out of the bed, but he shut his eyes again and didn't bother to move until he heard the sound of cabinets opening and shutting in the kitchen.

By the time Malik had washed, dressed, and wandered into the kitchen, Bakura had already set some croissants on the table and had soup simmering on the stove. The paler teen was peeling a carrot with a sharp knife, and he didn't look up as Malik sat in one of the chairs and started munching on a croissant.

When Bakura was finished, he threw the peelings in the small trashcan, set the knife and carrot on the counter, and checked the soup. "I want you to leave."

Malik blinked. Then he swallowed and said, "What?"

"I want you to leave," Bakura repeated. "I already packed your stuff in your bag; it's by the door."

"What in hell are you talking about?"

Bakura turned and stared at him, his face and voice surprisingly emotionless. "I couldn't stop him from taking control away from me, but I'm not going to let anyone else do it. Ever again," he said quietly. ". . . Not even you, Malik-kun."

Malik flinched at the suffix. He stood abruptly, palms flat on the table. "You can't be serious. Where am I supposed to go, huh?"

"I don't care."

Malik's eyes narrowed at that, and he straightened, one of his hands curling reflexively into a fist. "Damn, Ry�, I didn't realize you'd make such a fucking deal of it, okay? But I'm not leaving." He took a step to the side.

Bakura let his hand rest on the handle of the knife. His eyes were impassive as he stared at Malik.

The other teenager stopped moving and watched him for a long minute. Then Malik growled and shoved the chair behind him back, sending it crashing into the wall. He stormed out of the kitchen, and a second later Bakura heard the door slam loudly. He winced and hoped that he wouldn't be chided by any of the neighbors later for the excessive noise.

Bakura checked the soup again, turned off the stove, and sat down to breakfast. He threw Malik's half-eaten croissant in the trash.

~

1

2

3

You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Furious Angels