Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Some Kind of Monster	By : KimyouTeki Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2440 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
KT: Well, I'm finally back. Sorry it took so long! I felt embarassed when I realized how long it's been. Thanks for reviewing go to dragonlady222, lokivsanubis, Crimson2006, Jenivi, and PotionsPet!

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My Life Suffocates
I've Loved, Turned to Hate
Let the Beatings Begin
Distributor of Pain
Anger
Misery
You'll Suffer unto Me
To see into My Eyes
You'll Find Where Murder Lies
Harvester of Sorrow
Language of the Mad

Harvester of Sorrow

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A small gasp was lost in the hum of the air conditioner.
Bakura blinked in the darkness, hoping Ryou had not heard. He looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 3:42. He'd been at it for half an hour now.
Curled up on his side, facing away from his light, bundled in the thick down comforter, the Thief King closed his eyes and stroked again. His fingers traveled down his length as slowly as droplets of honey, to the head. His index finger pressed a spiral into the soft pink eye. Bakura let out a slow, shaky sigh.
It feels so good... Please, Ryou, don't wake up...
He didn't think he'd be able to deal with the humiliation if Ryou were to ever catch him. He did it slowly, struggling to keep quiet.
He thought often about Malik and Mariku, sometimes both of them at once. But he always wound up thinking about Ryou as he neared his finish.
He imagined laying his body over Ryou's-- pressing his naked flesh against his hikari's body, every single inch, with legs intertwined. He imagined Ryou smiling up at him, putting his arms around him, kissing him.
Those lips, hot and soft, pressing against mine...
He wrapped his palm around his shaft and imagined that it was Ryou's warmth surrounding him. He sighed lustily.
Here it comes... I'm coming...!
His body went rigid and he breathed in soft gasps as it came over him and erupted into his hand, hot and sticky.
"Ryou..." He quickly cursed himself for speaking aloud.
He lay still for a few seconds, waiting to see if Ryou would stir. He didn't, so Bakura cleaned himself with a tissue and went to sleep. It was almost four am.
@-->-->---
As consciousness slowly came he became aware of pain and coldness, both unpleasant, but neither so bad that he felt sufficient motivation to open his eyes or move. He was not laying in his bed, nor was he strapped to a cot at the mental hospital or in a prison cell, where he thought he might wake.
He was slouching against icy tile, being rained on. He frowned, turning his face away from the spray, not able to avoid it. He wished for sleep to take him again.
*BAM-BAM-BAM*
A loud, deep male voice: "Joseph Wheeler! Mr. Joseph Wheeler!"
Holy Fuck, it's the cops. Guess they followed the trail of Wong's blood.
He got the mental image of an old tyme copper in a blue uniform with gold buttons all down the front of his shirt, following a blood trail straight to the bathroom, like a grisly reversion of Hansel and Gretal.
He heard the song playing in his head-- Oh, Mama, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law...

*BAM*BAM*BAM*

Jouno clutched his head. His voice was a hoarse grumble: "Fuck! Just break the fucking door down!"

After what seemed like five or ten minutes, whoever was at the door was still knocking. They had not broken the door down, so they definitely weren't the police. So who was it?
Jouno finally reluctantly opened his eyes. He was sitting in his shower stall, fully clothed, leaning against the wall in the shower's icy spray. He had no idea how long he'd been like that, but his fingers were all pruny, so it had been a considerable amount of time.
Jumping up, he threw his bathrobe on over his saturated clothes and, scrutinizing himself in the mirror, felt that he could pass for-- well, no, not normal, but he didn't think he looked like a murderer.
Swinging the front door open, he was relieved to see one of Schroeder's black-suit-guys standing there with red knuckles.
"What are you doing here?" He asked in a casual tone, amazed at how normal he was able to make himself sound.
"Herr Schroeder sent me to pick you up, Sir. It would be unacceptable for you to be late on your first day of work."
Walking to the windows, he looked down and saw a sleek black Rolls Royce waiting out front. He smirked.
... And I haven't even clocked in yet. This should be good.
@-->-->---
Ryou straightened his collar, evaluating his reflection in the dresser mirror. He was not in the best of spirits, and the main contribution was that he'd not had a chance to relieve himself. Living with Bakura was like having a nosy baby brother, or a pet.
He follows me around all fucking day like a puppy. No matter what time I wake, he wakes too, and even insists on washing up at the same time! Hasn't he ever heard of privacy?
He immediately sighed, the anger leaving him. He doesn't mean to be a bother. I should be glad someone wants to be near me. I just wish it was someone I could fuck.
@-->-->---
Bakura observed Ryou, hoping his gaze wasn't so intent as to draw his light's attention. He didn't want to make Ryou uncomfortable, but he could not help but admire the beautiful countenance of his precious light.
Ryou was straightening his collar, looking at himself in the mirror. Bakura was sitting in a chair next to the dresser. Bakura wished Ryou would not go to school. It was a waste of time as far as he was concerned, and he sometimes felt like perhaps Ryou used those optional extra classes as a means of getting away.
Getting away from me every chance you get. But why, Precious Light? I love you so much... Why do you pull away?
Ryou looked his way and jolted. "BakuChan!"
He sighed. "I forgot you were sitting there. You're so quiet, like a cat."
Bakura took the comparison as a compliment. The corners of his mouth perked.
@-->-->---
Ryou waited until he was on the bus to check his messages, so he could listen without Bakura staring him down from some corner of the room. He stood halfway down the aisle, right hand gripping the nearest rail, left hand dialing up his message box on his cellphone.
It wasn't a blackberry or a sidekick or any of those fancy newer toys, it was just a basic cellphone. Ryou received a monthly allowance, most of which was meant for household expenses and utilities. Ryou hoarded the rest for outings to clubs and stays at love hotels. It was all that kept him sane, so he was happy to forego other luxuries.
He stood swaying as the bus whirred down the street, leaving the residential area for a more crowded commercial street.
"You have one message."
Dad?
Ryou snorted. I don't know why the hell I'm always hoping it's him. When it finally is him, we never have anything to talk about.
"10:32 pm."
"Fuck...! Fuck, fuck fuck. He must be asleep. Ryou, I need to talk to you real bad, this is like, life-and-death stuff, LITERALLY! Please call me ASAFP!"
"Message ended."
Ryou saved it and put the phone away. He frowned past the other people crammed into the bus, at the shops gliding past the windows.
Why would he call me instead of Yugi or Honda?
The bus halted in front of the school. Ryou squeezed past frowning, unyielding salarymen and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He looked up at the school building for a couple of seconds before deciding he didn't want to attend class today.
Sighing, he brought his phone back out and dialed.
@-->-->---
He'd considered wearing a suit and tie, but winced at the thought of dressing like that corporate stooge Kaiba. He put on some jeans and a t-shirt which read I'm not homophobic... on the front, and but my boyfriend is on the back.
The limousine had a TV and a fridge. The TV was not one of those lousy 5-inch screen deals with a shitty picture, it was a 20-inch flat screen with satellite. Jouno put on the news and opened the fridge-- it was stocked with Red Bull, V-8, and Starbucks Frapaccinos. He selected a frosty Red Bull.
Looking past the rim of the can, he saw a familiar image on the screen.
"This is Keiko Reiko Hanayamaguchi, outside the Black Arrow office building in downtown Domino City. This is the site of last night's brutal attack on internationally renowned psychologist, Dr. Paoma Wong."
Jouno paused mid-sip, wondering if they'd show the smears of blood all over the walls.
They said attack, not murder...
"Guess she survived..."
He was overcome with the sensation that he would burst into tears.
Brow furrowed, eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears, he saw Paoma vividly in his mind-- gashes carved in her skin, blood streaming down her face.
The tears came and he shuddered, holding back sobs so the driver wouldn't hear.
Stop crying, you fucking baby. It can't be undone. She betrayed you, the worst sin possible. She deserved it.
Covering his eyes, he let more tears come.
You're right, you're absolutely right. Why the hell should I feel bad when she brought it on herself? Silly bitch, who decides to work with crazy people for a living, anyway?
He sniffled and wiped his eyes. It's your own fault, Paoma. You shouldn't have told Kaiba my secrets.
@-->-->---
"Hey, this is Jouno Wheeler and I'm not at home right now, so leave a message after the beep."
*BEEP*
Ryou frowned. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? You called me, Asshole.
"Joseph, this is Ryou. I got your-- message. If you need any help, or if you just want to talk, um, just call me back..."
Oh, great, a game of phone tag. Fuck that.
"I'll be at Burger World for lunch at around 1 today. You can meet me there if you want. Bai-bai."
He hung up and tucked the cellphone in his jeans pocket. He hated his ultra-polite phone voice, and he couldn't help but kick himself a little for obliging himself to eat at that slop joint, Burger World.
Great, now I have to have lunch there. Maybe I'll just pretend we missed each other...
@-->-->---
He had alot of trouble explaining his ideas to Schroeder. His words tumbled out too fast and stumbled all over each other. Schroeder smiled through it, but had a sweatdrop at his temple.
Finally he presented Jouno with a keyboard and said, "Vy don't you simply give us a demonstration, Herr Vheeler?"
The laptop was connected to a larger system that took up an entire wall. When Jouno pressed a key, the room darkened and a three-by-five-foot screen lit up, displaying the Schroeder Corp. logo.
Schroeder had to show Jouno how to initiate the program. By this point, Jouno was beet-red. He felt like such an idiot.
Once the program was online, he started typing and something amazing happened. As his fingers danced along almost of their own volition, Jouno watched the code appear on the screen, forming his thoughts like no spoken words could. He soon had a simple skeletal version of his game idea set up.
Schroeder was delighted. "I knew I vas right to hire you, Herr Vheeler."
@-->-->---
He didn't want to go home-- he didn't want to see Bakura right now. It was 12:30. Ryou had spent the past few hours walking around downtown Domino. The sun was hanging in the middle of the vivid summer sky. Ryou could feel a sheen of sweat covering his entire body.
His feet were carrying him in the direction of Burger World. He didn't know where else to go.
Head lowered, he still couldn't help but squint his eyes against the sunlight. His walking sped up-- he was eager to get into some air conditioning.
As he was crossing the street, he got hit by a car.
It was a white car driven by a girl.
As he was crossing, he looked up and they made eye contact. But instead of slowing down so he could get past, she sped up. She didn't hit him all that hard-- she just knocked him on his ass. He got to his feet and stared the car down as it passed, dimly aware that about six people were standing on the sidewalk, watching the whole thing. The car stopped, and she got out.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, are you alright?"
She was completely average looking, 20-25 years old, brown hair, pale skin. Ryou knew right away, she had not meant any harm. The silly bitch had simply confused the brakes and accelerator.
She walked up to him, clutching her cell phone, still apologizing.
Ryou had never struck a woman before. He swung his open hand in a huge arc and caught the entire side of her face, making a huge SMACK. It felt good-- downright therapeutic. She pivoted to the side and fell against her car.
"Stupid fucking BITCH!"
He turned and glared each bystander in the face as he strode away.
@-->-->---
In sixth grade, there'd been this experiment in science class. By hanging a piece of string in a glass of sugar water, they'd made rock candy. Jouno could still recall his fascination as he'd watched the crystals grow. He'd forgotten how good it could feel to create something, but he was rediscovering that feeling now.
Adding more codes to the skeletal structure, watching it grow, was just like making rock candy. He'd meant it to be a simple demo for Schroeder, but now he could tell it was a keeper.
A little after 3 pm, Jouno was pulled out of his work by the warmth of a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into Schroeder's smiling face.
His boss presented him with a small, embossed envelope.
"This veekend, at Maximillion Pegasus's mansion. All the biggest names in the gaming industry vill be there."
"A party?" He felt anxiety heating his face.
Schroeder's eyebrows lifted. "You don't strike me as the bashful type, Herr Vheeler."
He turned his chair to face him. "Well, I've only been working here for one day. I don't think I've earned the right..."
"Nonsense! I've seen your genius. I can't vait to introduce you to Pegasus!"
Jouno sweatdropped. Actually, we've met...
"But I'm not good at that sort of thing. I'm not really a classy type..."
"Ah!" He pulled a small card out of his lapel. "Finest tailor in Japan. He makes all my suits."
Jouno got a quick mental image of himself standing by Schroeder, a proud doppelganger, and fought the urge to gag.
"Now, vhy don't you save your progress and go home."
"Huh? But it's only three--"
"Ve don't vant you to burn out on your first day. I'll see you tomorrow, say, 10 am?"
"Oh. Okay." Man, this job is awesome.
@-->-->---
Ryou hid in a booth towards the back. He didn't have a book to read or any music to listen to. There was piped-in music playing, but Ryou didn't like it very much. All he did was sit there, chin in hand, hating his life for no particular reason.
He wasn't waiting for Jouno, really. He didn't look up every time someone entered, and he didn't scan the sidewalk out front for his mop of blonde hair. Besides, it was already past three. Pretty sure bet he wasn't gonna show.
He tried not to feel the pang of rejection, but it was undeniable.
He couldn't stop thinking about Yugi-tachi. He imagined them all-- Yugi, Yami, Anzu, Honda, Jouno-- sitting here with him, smiling and laughing together. That had never happened, but the image was strong in his mind, almost like a wish.
He felt stinging behind his eyes.
Oh, no! He willed the tears away and the stinging sensation faded.
That was weird. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually wept.
He checked the time. It was 3:25.
School's over. Better go home before Bakura starts worrying.
He stood and gathered his schoolbag, cursing Jouno for making him waste his day.
Before he could take a step towards the exit, the double doors were shoved inward-- if anyone had been standing there, they would've gotten their face smashed in. In burst Jouno Wheeler, looking flustered and heaving for breath.
Ryou stood dumbly as Jouno's gaze swept the room, finally landing on him.
"Ryou!" He bounded down the aisle and stood before him, head low.
Ah, he's bowing in apology.
"I didn't check my messages 'til, like, fifteen minutes ago. I'm so sorry about this!"
A grin slowly appeared on Ryou's face. "Well, Joseph, I hope you'll make it up to me."

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8
harvester of sorrow
finish
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- 7
- 8
- 9
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Some Kind of Monster