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StarCrossed	By : NihilEtNemo Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2488 -:- 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-StarCrossed
- 2-Chapter 2
- 3-Chapter 3
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 3
- 4
- 5
StarCrossed

Thief King Bakura/Priest Seth

~~~~~*~~~~~

Bakura laid the priest’s limp body in the sand
and covered him with the red robe he wore. It had been close. Despite
the fact that they hadn’t been followed from the courtyard, for
some reason, they had still had to get out of the palace itself, and
he frankly hadn’t counted on Seth being unconscious. He’d
made it to his horse, though, and now the guards were long since left
in the dust. He had his hideout out here, and they could continue on
when he was sure Seth would survive the trip, but for right now, he
had to at least check him over.

He sighed a bit in exasperation. Seth was in bad
shape, though – he didn’t know what they’d done to
him, but obviously just killing him wasn’t enough, they had to
torture him first…

This was the first chance he’d had to inspect
his priest’s injuries, so even though dawn sunlight wasn’t
quite the best light to do so, he crouched down and parted his hair
to look for the wound that was still bleeding sluggishly. There was a
long gash that ran halfway around his head, but not too deep; it
would have stopped bleeding already if he hadn’t been moved
around so much. That wasn’t so worrisome, though he might have
to sew it up before Seth awakened; what was worse were the broken
bones. Several of his ribs were broken in at least one place, and his
left arm was broken in two places.

What pissed him off the most was the dried blood
caked on the back of his legs. He wasn’t precisely certain when
he had begun to think of Seth as his exclusive property, but the idea
of those bastards raping him incensed him to no end… if he
wasn’t so wary about leaving Seth alone at the moment, he’d
go back there and kill them all…

And there seemed to be something else wrong with him
as well. Maybe it was just the blood loss, maybe it had to do with
the smoke he’d inhaled, but Seth had yet to regain
consciousness, and Bakura didn’t like that. He found himself
sitting with the priest’s head in his lap, stroking his hair on
the uninjured side of his head, waiting impatiently for him to wake
up as the sun rose into the sky.

“Come on, Priest,” he growled as he
dragged the robe over them both to provide some shade. “I
didn’t risk my life to rescue your dead body…”

“Shouldn’t have risked your life to
rescue anything…” Seth said thickly, barely audibly,
startling Bakura into grabbing his shoulders. He tried to move, but
it only ended in a groan and his head shifting in the thief’s
lap.

“Stop moving,” Bakura said shortly.
“You’re just going to hurt yourself.”

Seth laughed a little, trailing into a cough that
made his face contort in pain.

“You’re not being very gracious. I did
save your life, you know.”

Seth finally cracked his eyes open to look at him.
It seemed he couldn’t get them more than half open. “No,
you didn’t.”

Bakura growled and narrowed his eyes at him. “Well,
if you were planning to save yourself, you sure were taking your
sweet time about it.”

Seth closed his eyes again. “I was planning to
die there… you should have let me die there…”

“Next time I will.”

“Do you mean that?” Seth asked quietly.

Bakura scowled. “Of course I don’t. Why
the fuck would I let you die? What’s wrong with you?”
Seth refused to answer, and Bakura turned his head gently, forcing
him to open his eyes as far as he could and meet his. “I’m
serious. What the fuck is wrong with you? You didn’t even try
to put up the spell to hide the noise you are making. You didn’t
try to fight them when they came to take you. Why do you have a death
wish?”

“I don’t have a…”

“Bullshit,” Bakura said quietly. “You’re
trying to commit suicide like this… Frankly, I don’t
appreciate being used.”

Seth laughed a little, but it was a weak sound. “You
don’t appreciate…? That’s rich… Who’s
been using me for sex for a year and a half…?”

“And who’s been using me just as much?”
Bakura retorted angrily. “You’re not the innocent priest
you’re pretending to be, you little pervert.”

“Maybe not…” Seth’s dull
gaze wandered away, toward the sand. “But the fact remains that
you didn’t save me…”

“Yeah, that’s why I untied you from the
stake and rode away with you, right? Because you saved yourself?”

Seth closed his eyes wearily. “You don’t
understand… I’m still going to die.”

Bakura frowned, narrowing his eyes. “What are
you talking about? Your injuries are bad, but not that bad.”

“My magic…” He coughed again
before he could go on, despite Bakura’s confusion. The thief
wiped a thin trail of blood away from the corner of his mouth without
comment. “They took it,” Seth finally told him. “And
without it, I’m going to die.”

“Is it that much a part of you?” Bakura
asked with a frown.

“No… Yes… I’m not sure.
But how they took it – violently, they just ripped it out…
it’s like I’m bleeding to death in my soul…”
He coughed again.

Fair enough. “So how do I stop the bleeding?”
Bakura demanded.

“I don’t think you can,” Seth told
him weakly.

Bakura didn’t move for a little while. Seth
seemed happy enough just to lie there in the relative shade and rest,
and Bakura could understand why… but this wasn’t the
place for that. “Come on,” he finally said, and stood up,
gently so as not to jar the priest any more than necessary. Before he
could try to move on his own, he gently draped the cape over him and
picked him up. “I’ve got a place we can rest,” he
said as Seth stirred, apparently in protest.

He set Seth on the horse and mounted, pulling him
back into his arms. There was a brief expression of pain that crossed
the priest’s face – which meant that it hurt beyond
bearing, because Seth could expressionlessly take pain that would
make other men scream. Bakura had seen it; Bakura had inflicted it.

He urged the horse into a gentle walk – he
wanted to go faster, but Seth wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Even at this pace, with this little jostling, he let out a small
whimper and turned his face into Bakura’s shoulder, holding
onto his other shoulder with the hand on his broken arm.

Bakura held him tightly to him, trying to lessen the
impact. “I’m sorry,” he told him, and ran his
fingers through his sticky hair. At least the bleeding had stopped.
“We’ll be there in a few hours.”

Seth’s words were muffled by his shoulder, but
audible. “Go faster,” he pleaded.

“Priest, I can’t. Do you know how much
pain you’ll be in?”

“Just do it,” Seth said. “I can’t
take ‘a few hours’ of this… The worst that’ll
happen is I’ll pass out…” Another whimper cut off
the last of his words.

Bakura frowned, then sighed. “All right,”
he said. “This’ll hurt.” He pulled Seth closer to
him and eased the horse slowly into a canter, then into a gallop.
Seth bore it silently, but the clutching of his hand on his shoulder
grew progressively tighter, until it went limp after almost
forty-five minutes. Seth had finally passed out.

It took more than another hour for them to get to
Bakura’s hideout. He was glad Seth was unconscious; it would
have been torture for him.

It was really just an unexpected oasis out in the
middle of nowhere. It had water, though, and a makeshift shelter dug
deep into the sand and hidden completely, with a huge supply of food
and all the leftover loot from his thefts and tomb robberies. He
could live here for months, if he had to. They could live here
comfortably until Seth was better.

He let the horse go and carried Seth into the shade
beside the clear, deep pool, surrounded by tall palms taking
advantage of the rare availability of water. He gently removed the
cloak, peeling it away expressionlessly where it had dried in the
blood. Seth didn’t move, even when he peeled of his bloody
shenti (the skirt) and lowered him into the water to wash to blood
away as gently as possible.

He finally stirred when he began to wash the blood
out of his hair, being careful of the barely-sealed gash.

“Wha…” Seth started, struggling
weakly. Bakura just stopped and held him still until he realized
where he was and calmed down.

“I’m getting the blood off of you,”
he said flatly. “Hold still.” Seth obeyed, closing his
eyes after a moment and letting Bakura wash him.

Eventually, Bakura stopped and just looked at him
for a little while. Seth looked… weak. Maybe he really was
dying anyway…

“Are you done?”

Bakura blinked when he realized Seth’s eyes
were open, and looking at him. “Yes,” he said, covering
his slight embarrassment at being caught, and put his arm under Seth
legs to lift him from the water. He was lighter than he looked;
lighter than he should have been.

The water was a pale red.

Seth wrapped his unbroken arm around Bakura’s
neck and rested his head weakly on his shoulder. He must have been in
a lot of pain, but he showed none of it.

Seth’s blue eyes opened a little as he carried
him, looking at the miniature paradise around them. “So this is
where you live…” he said. “It’s nice…”

“Yeah,” was all Bakura said. He looked
down at the bloody piece of cloth that had clothed Seth, and let it
lie. “Let’s go inside. It’ll be a lot cooler
there.”

Seth just closed his eyes. “Inside? I didn’t
see any buildings.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

The priest didn’t answer, and Bakura kicked
aside a thick patch of ferns, then caught a trap door with his foot
and pulled it up. He was used to having his arms full when he went
inside, so it was no real problem.

The trap door opened wide to reveal a dark hole.
Bakura didn’t hesitate to carry his precious cargo inside and
shut it behind him.

It was brighter than it had appeared inside; there
was a dim illumination coming from somewhere ahead, and Bakura could
navigate the tunnel perfectly, though he wouldn’t have had any
problem if it had been pitch black. At first, it appeared to be a
tunnel built hastily into the sand and the underlying rock, shored up
a bit unsteadily, perhaps abandoned. It slowly changed, though, as
the illumination increased, into something reminiscent of the tombs
Bakura was known to rob, though bereft of hieroglyphics on the walls.

Bakura realized Seth was looking around when he felt
his head shift against his shoulder. Just then, they came into the
room from which the illumination was coming, through a small hole in
the ceiling and reflected around in polished mirrors until it was
bright as day. There was a fair mount of gold strewn about, as though
it had just been left there, a few statues here and there, obviously
stolen from their rightful places at the sides of dead kings.

“Nice…” Seth managed. “You
did this?”

Bakura shrugged. “A little. I found it
abandoned – the last thief is probably dead or fled the country
– but I fixed it up a bit. It was just kind of a hole in the
desert. Now, it’s my palace under the ground.”

Seth tried to offer a little smile, but he coughed
instead, and Bakura wiped the blood away from his mouth again. “Stop
talking,” he told him. “At least until those ribs quit
poking you in the lungs.”

Seth didn’t respond. Bakura wasn’t sure
whether he was obeying orders, or being contrary.

He shifted the priest lightly in his arms and freed
one hand, then used it to insert into a tiny crack in the wall. He
pulled in exactly the right spot, depressing a disguised lever with
his foot, and revealed a narrow opening through which he carried
Seth. It closed behind him as the lever was released, shutting out
the light for a moment. Then their eyes adjusted and the light
returned, paler, more watery, almost.

Bakura picked an apparently random path through a
honeycombed network of tunnels, though there were no signs to point
the way. Seth didn’t question it. “What’s that
sound?” Seth asked after a little while. Bakura knew what he
meant, though even he couldn’t hear it yet. Impressive.

“The water… the stream that feeds the
oasis. There’s some fairly extensive caves down here from it.
This is where I spend most of my time… just in case, you know?
I can’t risk hanging out back there and getting caught.”

Seth nodded a little. He understood.

Maybe a half hour later, long after the water had
been audible to Bakura, they ended their trek through the shoddy
tunnels and found themselves in a long, fairly low cavern. The light
seemed to reflect from the surface of a sluggish stream that ran
through the center of it, a wide, shallow bed of water. The rocks
themselves seemed to be the source of the light; it was quite bright
by now.

Seth looked around silently as Bakura took him to a
low doorway roughly hewn from a wall. There was a low, wide shelf of
rock, covered with a stack of ferns and the palm leaves somehow woven
into a thick pad, covered with a fairly clean linen cloth. It looked
like a surprisingly comfortable bed.

Bakura set Seth upon it and pulled another linen
sheet over him. It was nice and cool down here, and the water was
soothing, and the bed was softer than it looked; Seth closed his eyes
briefly to just enjoy it and ignore the pain being conscious caused
him.

“This really is nice…” he
murmured.

“Yeah, I know,” Bakura said. There was a
rustle of cloth as he tossed his cloak into a corner at the foot of
the bed to wash later. He liked his space; the bed was wide enough
for two or even three people to use comfortably, though he wasn’t
at all accustomed to sharing it. He had never brought another person
here, had never slept in the same bed as another, as far as he
remembered. The closest he ever came were his occasional rendezvous
with Seth, but he never stuck around even then.

“Hold still,” he said, sitting on the
bed beside the priest. “I need to check on your head.” He
ran his fingers through his hair, parting it for his inspection. Seth
didn’t so much as open his eyes, let alone move or resist. The
gash appeared to be closed fairly sturdily; he should probably open
it again and wash it to make sure it wouldn’t get infected.

“How bad is it?” he asked quietly.

“It’s probably all right,” Bakura
decreed finally, and smoothed his hair again. “It probably
won’t fester… If you don’t move around I won’t
even have to stitch it.”

“Good news,” Seth said quietly. He had
yet to open his eyes.

“I’m going to set this arm now,”
Bakura said, without looking into his face. It was too much, if he
did. He didn’t want to think that this might all be in vain.
Seth wasn’t, repeat, wasn’t, dying slowly,
regardless of anything he might do to help.

Seth didn’t reply, and Bakura didn’t say
anything more. The arm in question was tender, swollen, the upper arm
where it was broken an unhealthy purplish color and too warm to the
touch.

“This will hurt,” Bakura finally said,
after locating the breaks. They appeared to be fairly clean breaks,
at least, and should heal more or less properly. Seth didn’t
respond, as though he had already counted on it, and he placed one
hand around his elbow, the other near his shoulder, and pulled them
apart.

Seth ground his teeth and was silent as something
finally gave and the displaced section of bone slid back into place.
Bakura wrapped it tightly with a strip of cloth and tied it just
loose enough to still permit blood flow.

“Better?” he asked, still without
looking into Seth’s face, busying himself with the arm. If Seth
insisted upon moving it, he’d have to splint it, but that would
be uncomfortable and he hoped the priest could be trusted to let it
heal.

“Yes,” Seth told him, though his breath
was a little heavy. “Thank you.”

Bakura sighed and finally looked into his face. The
pain seemed to have dissipated a little, and he rested easier now. He
really should do something about those ribs so that he could breathe
properly…

“Thank you,” Seth repeated, and finally
opened his eyes. “For bringing me here, and not just letting me
die…” He deep blue eyes met Bakura’s sincerely.

Bakura smiled a little, though it felt wan on his
face, and lay beside him with a small sigh, watching his eyes close
again.
- 3
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StarCrossed

StarCrossed

Thief King Bakura/Priest Seth