Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Similar Differences	By : Amarin Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2748 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Comfort Is A Four-Letter Word

Nice, Malik thought muzzily, drifting in a half-awake, half-dozing state. It was nice being where he was.
Funny that ‘where he was’ was in Seto Kaiba’s arms. The kissing he could understand liking, but he never knew that he was a cuddler.
Not that he really had a problem with it… But like any man – secure in his masculinity though he might have been – he didn’t want something so…sappy…getting out to the general populace. Luckily, considering his gender and who he was dating, it wouldn’t be.
At least not anytime soon…
A rumble from his pillow – also known as Seto’s chest – caught his attention, and he turned his focus onto said cushion.
“What?” Malik asked, yawning slightly.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Seto repeated.
“Hmm?” Malik asked, unconsciously snuggling closer into Seto’s embrace.

“Not that I’ve seen it all that well, but…do you have a tattoo on your back?” Seto asked.
Malik’s eyes snapped open and he bolted upright. Seto had seen that? When? How?
As his panic-induced burst of adrenaline slowly wore off, his thoughts slowed down and he was able to think again after a few minutes.
When it happened, he might never know, but considering that he was fond of wearing short shirts, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that one of them had ridden up one day and Kaiba had caught a glimpse of his scars.
He’d foolishly hoped that Seto would never have to see them. But who was he kidding? Each day they grew closer, their relationship more intimate. It was only a matter of time before they went beyond making out…
And it would be silly to think that he could have a sexual relationship with someone and never take off his shirt.
He might be kinky, but that would be just plain weird.
“No,” Malik said at length, finally answering the brunet’s question. He forced himself to drop back down next to Seto, his back pressed tightly against the couch so that the other couldn’t get a look at anything.
“Malik…” Seto said softly, one hand reaching out hesitantly to clasp the blond’s. “I’m sorry if I brought up bad memories, but…”
Letting out a shuddering breath, Malik said, “It’s not your fault, I just…I would have thought that Yugi – or is it Yami? I don’t know… – would have told you.”
“They know?” Seto asked, unable the keep the – was that jealousy? – out of his voice.
Malik shrugged, heart warming slightly at the brunet’s tone. He cares… “It all came up when they found out about Marik.” His tone indicated his displeasure at that fact, which seemed to mollify Seto somewhat.
“Would you tell me about it?” Seto asked.
Not ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ – because he knows I’d rather not, Malik thought with dark humor. He knows me so well…and why doesn’t that frighten me in the least? It comforts me, in fact… Shaking off his thoughts, Malik said quietly, “All right.”
“It isn’t a tattoo,” he said to start off with. “They’re scars.”
“Scars?” Seto asked gently. He turned Malik’s hand until it lay palm up in his own hand, tracing a soothing pattern on the palm.
Malik gave a sliver of a smile at the calming gesture, and nodded. “Technically, I suppose you could consider it a tattoo, if only because the knife carved a pattern.” Before Seto could ask what the pattern was, Malik continued, “It was my…duty…as the firstborn son in my family…to have the Pharaoh’s memories carved onto my back. I didn’t want them, I begged my father not to do it, to stop, but…” He blinked back tears and looked down, unable to go on.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Seto said, voice low. His hand let go of Malik’s and he pulled the Egyptian into a loose embrace, keep him close but not trapping him there, within the circle of his arms.
“No more than I,” Malik said, his chuckle watery with unshed tears.
“True,” Seto said, slight humor in his tone. “But…you’re not alone in this, you know.”
“I know…I have you,” Malik said, knowing that this was Seto’s way of saying ‘I’ll be there for you.’
But Seto shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It wasn’t?” Malik asked nervously. He doesn’t want to stay now that he knows… the thought came unbidden to his mind. It was one of the few fears that he still had. That Seto would leave him.
When did I fall in love with him? Malik thought wonderingly, the awe at the realization eclipsing his worry over Seto’s reaction.
A rustle of cotton on leather upholstery greeted the blond’s ears as Seto moved closer still, remaining silent as he thought how best to phrase his words. “I meant that…you’re not the only one with scars, Malik,” Seto said at length, voice almost inaudible.
Looking at his boyfriend askance – and breathing a silent sigh of relief as his fears were proved unfounded – Malik asked softly, “What do you mean, Seto?”
“Haven’t you ever noticed?” Seto asked, dark humor quirking his lips in a crooked smile. “You’re not the only one in this relationship who never takes their shirt off.”
It hit him with all the force of a bullet impacting him right between the eyes. He’d gotten so used to never taking his own shirt off – to go swimming, to work on his bike, to clean the house, anything except to shower or change clothes – that it had never occurred to him that it was out of the ordinary for Seto to indulge in the same idiosyncrasy.
“How did you get your scars?” Malik asked softly, slanting a calm lavender gaze towards his koi. Just as Seto had given him a choice, he wasn’t going to force Seto to tell him.
But just like he needed to tell Seto about his father, he sensed that Seto needed to talk to him about this.
“In a…similar situation,” Seto said haltingly, staring off into the distance over Malik’s shoulder. “Gozabura…my foster ‘father’… Whenever I wasn’t good enough, or he wasn’t satisfied with something I’d done, he’d…punish…me. He had this riding crop he liked to use…” The brunet trailed off into brooding silence and Malik tried hard not to mentally extrapolate from what Seto had said.

But it was hard not to. He had plenty of experience with his own father to come up with hundreds, no, even thousands of awful tortures Gozabura Kaiba could have inflicted on his adopted ‘son’.
I hope he rots in hell, along with Anubis Ishtar, Malik thought fiercely. Named after a Death God; is it any wonder my father reveled in the sight of blood?
My blood…
Malik shivered.
I am so glad Isis was born first. I shudder to think what name I would have ended up with – Ra, to feed my father’s ego, Horus, to feed his need to serve the Pharaoh’s power? – Malik was bad enough. ‘Master’ indeed.
But Isis…Isis, the Mother Goddess; a good omen for her life, and one she lived up to. Certainly as good of a mother to me as our mother would have liked to have been.
Better, because our mother never tried to stop our father, didn’t fight him about anything…and Isis would have stopped him, if she’d known.
Or died trying.
Shaking off his melancholy – and slightly morbid – thoughts, Malik came back to the present, gratefully taking in the scent of warm skin and soft cotton, as comforting as Seto’s strong arms around his chest. Barking a soft laugh, Malik said, “Well, aren’t we a pair?”
“Yes indeed,” Seto agreed wryly, one hand coming up to card tenderly through platinum-blond curls. “Good thing we found each other, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Malik said quietly. “It is.”
Seto smiled at him then, a warm, genuine, albeit small smile.
And it seemed so natural to just lean up and kiss those smiling lips, caress them with own. Shudder in response to Seto’s tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, entrance which he willingly granted.
Natural to let Seto lay him back on the wide couch, his strong, slender hands caressing him through his clothes. Natural to let crystal tears fall as he heard the words those lips stopped devouring his only long enough to whisper. Words of affection and attraction and heart-rending comfort delivered in between soul-deep kisses.
And when Seto slipped his shirt off his shoulders, Malik felt overwhelmed by trust of this man. Trust which eclipsed all the pain, and hurt, and confusion and raw fear that having Seto see the scars brought to the fore.
He wasn’t afraid with Seto. And if that wasn’t love…then what was?
- 6
- 7
- 8
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