Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Carwash, with Extra Wax	By : Animom57 Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3352 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
8 – Hot Wax

Through the door was a nicely furnished room
that looked like a studio apartment, with a TV, couch, chairs, coffee
table, and a small kitchenette area.

“What’s this?”

“Driver’s lounge. Wait here.”

As Kaiba opened the door that led from the
lounge to the house, Tristan warned, “Don’t try to pull
anything, Kaiba. No funny business.” He elbowed Joey and added,
“No Funny Bunny business either!”

Kaiba smiled tightly and left. A moment later
the door thunked: when Tristan tried it he found it was locked.

“A deadbolt. Do you believe
that guy? What does he think, that we’re
gonna wander around his mansion stealing his stuff?” He gave
the finger to the security camera above them.

“Afraid we’ll urinate in his
urns?” Joey quipped.

“Grab his van Goghs?”

“Chip his Chippendale?” At a
questioning eyebrow from Tristan, Joey blustered, “What? I’m
not allowed to know stuff?”

“Kinda fruity knowledge if you ask me.”
Tristan shook his head as he flopped on the couch.

“Hey if anyone around here’s a
fruit,
it’s you, buddy. I wasn’t the one with my –”

“I assert my dominance as the alpha
male by mounting you,” Tristan said loftily. At a look from
Joey, he retorted, “Well, if you
can know stuff, I
can know stuff too.”

“OK smart guy, I hope you know what
you’re doing here. 'Cause it don’t seem too smart to be
getting into a pissing contest with Kaiba.”

“Re-lax.
I know what I’m doing.”

A few minutes later they heard the lock clunk
back. Kaiba held a package of black boxers which he threw at Joey’s
chest. “Bathroom’s over there, miss, if you’re shy
about changing in front of the boys,” he said sarcastically.

Joey growled and went into the bathroom.

“So here’s what’s going to
happen,” Kaiba said, stepping in front of (and therefore able
to glower down at) Tristan. “You’ll wait here until the
puppy’s clothes are dry. Then you’re leaving.”

Tristan stood, so that he and Kaiba were
face-to-face and only inches apart. “Wrong, Kaiba-boy. I can
pass on the video games and the pizza –”

“Hey! I
want pizza!” came an indignant protest
from the bathroom.

“– but first you’re going
to tell me what you two do with that candle.”

“Like hell I am.”

“Oh yes you are.”

Stony olive-green eyes bored into icy blue:
stalemate.

Just as Joey came out of the bathroom, wet
clothes in one hand, Kaiba grabbed Tristan’s balls.

“Hey!” Tristan yelled; too close
to swing, he simply shoved Kaiba away, then aimed a punch.

Kaiba dodged it, then assumed a loose
fighting stance. “In ancient Japan, warriors had to prove that
they could never be caught off guard. One test of that was for the
master to grab the student’s testicles; if he didn’t
flinch he was a true practitioner of bushido. Why am I not
surprised you can’t pass the test?”

“Test my ass. You just wanted to cop a
feel, ya fricking perv.”

“What the hell is going on?” Joey
asked. “And is there a dryer or something around here?”

Both brunets looked at him then. Dressed in
only the black silk boxers, (which made his pale skin look even
paler) and shifting his weight from foot to foot in embarrassment, he
somehow managed to make awkward look adorable.

“Well, don’t you
look good enough to eat,” said Tristan
with a proprietary air, and looked at Kaiba archly, issuing a
challenge.

Kaiba returned the look, and curled his lip.
Challenge received and accepted. He walked over to Joey, his eyes
locked with the blond’s. He took the wet things from Joey
slowly (all the while eying him like an anaconda surveying a wounded
piglet), opened a cabinet to reveal a mini washer and dryer, tossed
the wet clothes inside, and set the timer. He then leaned against the
dryer and folded his arms, surveying Joey’s backside
thoughtfully.

After a long moment of charged silence a
puzzled Joey turned, caught sight of Kaiba's expression, compared it
to Tristan's, then turned sideways and scuttled crabwise until he had
a wall at his back where he could watch them both. “Tris,
what’s goin’ on here?” he asked nervously.

“Well, while we wait,” Tristan
said to Joey, “Kaiba here’s gonna tell us what they do
with the candle.”

“Oh, I could do better than that,”
Kaiba said slowly. “Why don’t I show
you?”

“Sure.” Tristan grinned at Kaiba
like a jaguar surveying an anaconda. “What do you need?”

“A demo subject. Preferably someone
with little or no body hair.”

“Well, how lucky. We got one of those.”

At this Joey ran his hand over his hairless
chest. “Hey, you don’t mean me? I didn’t
agree to nothing!”

“C’mon man,” Tristan joked,
“you know my abundant testosterone makes me extremely hairy.”

“Tris, ya got like a dozen hairs on
your chest. That ain't nothing.”

Ignoring this aspersion, Tristan said, “Think
of it as donating your body to science.”

“I was gonna do that after
I was dead, not now!”

He continued to mutter under his breath as
Tristan asked Kaiba, “Next?”

“It’ll work best if he lays on
this coffee table,” Kaiba said, stepping forward briskly and
moving the long low table to the center of the room.

“Hey, it’s after 5,” Joey
said nervously, “Isn’t your little brother home? You
wouldn’t want him walkin’ in on anything weird.”

“He went to a friend’s house
after school and is spending the night there,” Kaiba replied,
taking Joey’s arm and leading him to the table.

“What about the drivers? Don’t
they need to use this room?”

“No, I gave all of them the night off.
We’ll be all alone in the house.” He grinned wolfishly
(quite a feat for a snake) “Lay down on the table, Wheeler.”

Tristan nodded and smiled encouragingly. It
didn’t do Joey much good, though, since a jaguar’s smile
isn’t that comforting either.

Joey sat on the table, then lay down on his
back, his head at one end and his feet sticking out over the other.
Kaiba grabbed his feet and slid him down until his knees were even
with the end of the table: when he bent his legs, his feet were on
the floor.

Kaiba smirked at Tristan as he noticed that
there was already a little bit of a stirring in the black silk
boxers.

“Now what?” asked Tristan.

“Candles, and something to tie him down
with.”

“Whoa! Nobody said nothin' about being
tied down!” Joey tried to sit up, but both Tristan and Kaiba
put hands on his chest. “C’mon man,” Tristan urged,
“Where's your spirit of adventure?”

“In the dryer, with my pants,”
Joey grumbled, but lay back down with a sigh. Tristan pulled the red
bag out of his pocket, unrolled it, and took out one of the candles
and the red velvet cords. He returned the bag to his pocket, and made
a show of buttoning the pocket securely.

Ignoring this show, Kaiba bound each of
Joey’s ankles to a leg of the coffee table: then, crossing
Joey’s arms above his head, tied each wrist securely to a table
leg as well.

The stirring was rather more enthusiastic
now.

“He should be blindfolded. Get a towel
from the bathroom,” Kaiba ordered.

Tristan went to get it, and Kaiba knelt next
to Joey’s head and whispered curtly, “Don’t worry,
you’ll like this.”

Joey looked at him in amazement.

Tristan came back with a hand towel and
wrapped it around Joey’s head, covering his eyes.

Kaiba picked up the short white candle, then
looked up at Tristan, holding out his hand with an exasperated look.

“What?”

“The lighter?”
Kaiba replied impatiently.

“Oh. Oh.”
Tristan hurriedly unbuttoned the pocket, pulled out the red bag,
unrolled it, fished out the lighter, and handed it to Kaiba. He then
stood holding the bag, entranced, as Kaiba lit the candle.

After a few moments, Kaiba tilted the candle
and let a drop of wax fall near Joey’s collarbone.

Joey sucked his breath in suddenly.

After a moment Kaiba started a trail of
droplets, one every few seconds, down Joey’s chest. He took a
detour to circle, and then coat, one of the blond’s tiny tight
nipples.

By the time the trail of wax drops had
reached halfway to his waist Joey’s erection was jutting from
the fly of the boxers and his moans, groans, growls, and gasps were
almost non-stop. Kaiba stopped just short of Joey’s navel, then
pinched the candle out and handed it to Tristan, putting a finger to
his lips. Tristan had been massaging his own hard-on and took the
candle as if hypnotized, the red bag lying forgotten on the floor
next to him.

Kaiba roughly tugged Joey’s boxers down
to his knees. Joey writhed and moaned, both eager for and dreading
the next drop of wax, anticipating that the trail of fire would dip
into his now exposed, more sensitive regions. Kaiba stood without
making a sound, went quickly into the kitchen, noiselessly opened the
freezer, and came back with an ice cube in his hand and an
icicle-like sliver between his teeth.

He put the ice cube into Joey's belly button,
and simultaneously slid in the sliver of ice.

Joey arched his back so far that only his
head and shoulders touched the coffee table, and his cock bobbed.
Kaiba caught the flying ice cube and held it firmly against the base.
“Not yet, puppy.”
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Carwash, with Extra Wax

8 – Hot Wax