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Save Me	By : AnonymousTigress Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4754 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh in any way, shape, or form. I receive no profit for it.

Chapter List
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AN: I can’t believe how much of this story is rocketing from the keyboard right now. My other stories elsewhere have taken a backseat to this one.
smint45: Yes. This will become a Joey/Seto story. I am a sucker for puppyshipping and my favorite stories are when Joey and/or Seto are a creature of sorts.
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. I enjoy writing fan fics, but I make no profit from any of it.

He pulled out his key to the apartment and jammed it into the keyhole. He jiggled it a couple of times before the door unlocked. He quickly darted inside and closed the door behind him.
Shifting his heavy backpack on his shoulder, he let out a grunt as he walked down the entrance hall. He was looking down at his cell phone when he was taken by surprise. A heavy blow jammed into his stomach, knocking the breath clear out of his body.
His backpack dropped to the ground as his arms flew up to his stomach. He was left momentarily deaf which did nothing to protect him as another blow landed on the side of his head. He hit the ground hard, clutching his stomach and head.
“Worthless brat! Where the Hell ya been?! You were ‘upposed to be here right after school!”
A foot came down heavy on his ribs, eliciting a sharp cry from him.
“No! Stop!”
A series of kicks and punches rained down on his body. This caused him to cry out several more times, as the blows landed on fresh bruises usually hidden by his clothes.
Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed him by the back of his head and hauled him to his feet. He stumbled as he was dragged into the kitchen. He was slammed down onto the kitchen table. He stared up in horror when he felt a cold piece of metal on the back of his wrist.
“Maybe this will teach you, you mutt!”

/……/

His throat felt horrible like he had been screaming for hours. His body was curled tightly into a ball and his face buried deep into a pillow. There were tears cascading down his face. He let out a deep sob.
“STOP!”

/……/

His cries landed on deaf ears. The knife was removed from his wrist, but it caught him everywhere.
Arm. Hand. Face. Back. Nothing was protected.
“Stop! Please stop!”
“I’m gonna teach ya a lesson, ya damn mutt!”

/……/

Someone was shaking him and calling his name.
“Wheeler! Wake up!”
He jerked away, nearly throwing himself off the bed. The arm shooting out around his waist was the only thing that prevented him from colliding with the ground. Still halfway in his nightmare, he fought to get away.
“Please! S-stop! I won’t do it again!”
He suddenly experienced a serious case of vertigo as the person jerked him up. He felt the other male rest up against the headboard and yank him onto his lap. An arm wound around his waist and his face was forced into the bare chest. A chin came down to rest atop on his head and a hand weaved into his hair.
He shuddered as the hand ran through his hair. It ran smoothly from the front to back then came back up to repeat the motion. He wound his own arms around him as he sniffled.
The pain was almost gone entirely yet it was still very fresh in his mind. The male didn’t say anything. He only offered comfort in the way of holding him and running a hand through his hair.
He didn’t care. He didn’t care that he was probably very heavy sitting on the other’s lap. He didn’t care that he was crying. All he cared about was the hand running through his hair and the arm securely wrapped around his waist.
He cried until there was nothing left. He let out a stray sniffle or two as he breathed in the other male’s scent. As he sat there breaking completely free from his nightmare, he breathed in the other man’s scent. He could smell it better now that he had slid partially down.
It was a familiar smell. It was strong and sort of tangy. Not an everyday cologne or body soap smell. No, this smelled like the scented candle he gave his sister a few years ago. Farmer’s Market. That was the name of the scent.
He let out a deep sigh as the man raked his nails over his head. He had never realized how sensitive his head was. Until now.
The other male must have realized he had calmed down. He shifted slightly under him. He gave him a small bounce to bring him back up.
“Are you going to tell me what upset you?” the voice whispered.
He released another sniffle as he shook his head. He turned his head so he could rest an ear on the bare chest. He closed his blurry eyes.
His thoughts were scrambled as he mumbled, “Don’t…’m sorry……*sniff*.”
The hand in his hair stopped at the back of his head. It curled tightly in the strands, almost making him wince. The arm around his waist moved in favor of running a hand up his bare back.
He made a small mental note to himself that they both seemed to be shirtless, but thankfully both were wearing sleep pants. He groaned as the hand on his back rubbed into sore muscles. The hand weaved and twisted around on his back. It seemed the male was avoiding some of the cuts and bruises on his back.
“Tell me.”
“Hmm?”
Tell him what? I’m sorry for probably waking you up and crying all over you? Thank you for comforting me?
The hand in his hair gripped a little tighter for a second before releasing.
“Tell me who it was. Who dared to touch you?” the voice hissed.
He shook his head. This person wouldn’t be able to do anything. He couldn’t protect him from harm. He started to lose it again, but the hands returned to their original spots. It seemed the person had discovered the calming effect of a hand through his hair and was using it to his advantage.
In fact, it was starting to excite a part of him. He tried to shift back away, but the hands yanked him back. Another chuckle rocked his head back and forth.
He whimpered quietly. It was starting to hurt. He just wanted to find some relief and go back to sleep. It was at this point he realized there were bandages wound around his hands.
/……/

Ah, crap. That wasn’t going to feel good.
Right now, he may just die of embarrassment. Screw his father. He was going to die from embarrassment of his erection pressing into the guy comforting him.
Cue Death.

/……/

He gasped. In the short time he had blacked out, the male had shifted him. He now lay with his back to the other’s chest. A head was resting on his shoulder and an arm around his stomach.
The other arm dipped below it as the hand was down past his waistline. And this time there was no boxers or washcloth between the hand and his member.
He moaned and arched his back. The hand moved steadily up and down over his erection, leaving no place untouched. He gave a brief wonder if the guy was looking over his shoulder to watch what he was doing.
However, two things provided evidence of the contrary. He could still feel the sleep pants on his body, meaning that the hand was hidden from view as it fisted his cock.
And the second thing? The male had his head turned inward to his neck, not turned down. A series of small licks, kisses, and bites were being lightly pressed on his neck.
He groaned again as he felt himself getting close. Why was he doing this? Didn’t…the bath…he said that…
“Don’t worry, puppy. I know you’re too incapacitated. I’ll take care of it for you,” a husky voice murmured in his ear.
He let out a wordless cry as he came.

/……/

So that’s what that felt like! Why had he not discovered this pleasurable feeling before now?! It felt so much better than taking himself in hand and masturbating.
It definitely wasn’t Tristan. He was too into his sister.
Oh, dear. It could be Bakura. The psycho was crazy enough to heal him then take pleasure from him while he couldn’t do anything. And incacipa…inpacitate…whatever that word was was something out of a vocabulary like his.
But then where was Ryou?
He just wished he could stay awake long enough to get his bearings and find out who this man was.
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