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Yu-Gi-Oh! Dragon Slayer	By : Smenkhkara Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5744 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of its characters. Yu-Gi-Oh! is the trademark of Kazuki Takahashi. Nor do I make any money from the writting of these stories.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Chapter One

The night was dark and quiet.
   The streets of Domino were still, no one moved.
   'Strange', he thought. The city was never this dead on a Friday night. And he would know. His private office was a hundred and one floors off the ground and the back wall was built from tinted glass offering him the perfect view of the city, anytime, day or night.
   The CEO of Kaiba Corporation sighed and took a long haul off his expensive Cuban cigar. He closed his eyes and savoured the sweet tasting tobacco, then slowly released it. The smoke drifted upwards encircling his head like a demonic halo. Opening his eyes he reached for a Wedgwood crystal snifter sitting on the corner of his polished, ebony desk. The golden liquid of his preferred Louis Trèz burned a warm path down his throat and into his stomach. The brunette sighed again as he looked back out over the bright lights of the city below. Not even his beloved cigar and brandy could give him any comfort tonight.
   His flawlessly tailored reflection starred back at him from the tinted glass, mocking his mood. Tonight, he was wearing Dolcé and Gabbana, one of his favourite suits. Midnight black and custom designed to hug every curve of his well-chiseled form. The deep-red shirt he was wearing was Armani. Buttoned to the top and secured at the neck with a black silk tie. He was a picture of perfection. Not a hair out of place.
   You'd think a man of his wealth and stature would live a life of peace and serenity, but no, not Seto Kaiba. From the start, his day had been crammed full of one disaster after another.
   First, he had awoken to a phone call from Mokuba informing him that their new project had hit yet another snag. Then his limousine wouldn't start and it had taken Roland nearly twenty minutes to pull the Rolls Royce out of the garage. That, and the eternity it had taken to get through morning rush hour traffic had caused him to arrive late at the office only to find out that his secretary had called in sick, throwing his entire schedule into chaos and forcing him to juggle his own calls for the day.
   Second, two of his three business proposal meetings had cancelled on him at the last minute. Fuku Ebisu, his Projects Manager in charge of New York Operations, spent forty-five minutes on a conference call ragging him out for the problems at the new KaibaLand site. And finally, just to top things off, the mainframe computer system had crashed. Shutting down over half the systems in the building, including Seto's personal files. It had taken Kaiba and the building's on-site technicians more than two hours to get everything back online. By that time the brunette had written the day off as a total loss.
   He took another long haul off his cigar, the stress of the day sending wave after wave of tension through his body. He needed to calm down or he was going to lose his sanity. Unfortunately, there was only one thing that was going to satisfy his need tonight. Something he hadn't done in a long time.
   His mind made up, he set the snifter back on his desk and reached for the Kc pin that always adorned his lapel. It was a miniature transmitter that kept him in constant contact with his Personal Assistant. In less than a heartbeat a deep, timbred voice spoke through the microscopic speaker on the back of the pin.
“Yes, Mr. Kaiba.”
   “Roland, have the Rolls outside my private entrance in five minutes and make my usual arrangements at The Dark Realm for me.”
   “Yes. Mr. Kaiba. Right away Sir.”
   He ground out his cigar in an ivory ashtray and finished the contents of his snifter in one swallow. He was going to take great pleasure in enforcing his will. Chuckling at the thought he walked to his closet and pulled out a full-length, black leather trench coat. Putting it on, he removed the mirrored sunglasses that always sat securely in the left-breast pocket. He was in a dark mood tonight and only the darkness would grant him peace.
   As he made his way to his private lift, a sadistic smirk touched his lips. He almost pitied the pour soul who was about to become his latest victim.
   Almost.

* * *

   “Wheeler! Hey, Wheeler!!”
   'God dammit, where was that son-of-a-bitch?' Descharme cursed to himself as he scanned the room for his attitude enriched porter. If that kid hadn't been the hardest working employee he had, he'd have fired his sorry ass long ago. He scanned the crowd again, trying his best to see through the dim, smoke-filled room, to no avail. The club was designed to be dark and secretive. That's the way his clientele liked it. They were the rich, well-born, high-class members of society and they didn't want anyone seeing them engaging in their extracurricular activities. They paid well for their anonymity and their fun and Descharme was only too happy to provide. Whatever they wanted was theirs, for a price of course. Sex, drugs, booze, socially restricted entertainment; anything their sick, twisted little minds could come up with. They asked; they paid and Descharme delivered. It was that simple. The Dark Realm was an underground nightclub that offered everything, even protection from the law. He paid well to keep the cops on the other side of the door.
   Grumbling to himself, Descharme shook his head as he gave up looking for the kid, making his way back to his quiet office. The second he rounded the corner to his private hallway he collided with the bane of his existence.
   “Oaf!” came the startled reply followed by the bang of a pail and the crash of a mop as both items hit the floor.
   “Wheeler!” Descharme exclaimed through gritted teeth, his tone turning the name into a curse. “Where the hell have you been? I've been looking all over for you.”
   “Du',” Joey shot back showing that patented attitude Descharme hated him so much for. “I was cleanin' up de mess in de back room like ya aske' me ta.” He scoffed as he gave his boss a dirty look, reaching down to pick up the mop and pail.
   “Right.” Descharme acknowledged under his breath. Some of the guests had gotten a little overzealous in one of the pleasure rooms and he'd asked Wheeler to go clean it up. Shaking off the grotesque thought he said aloud, “Forget about that. I need you to plunge one of the toilets in the men's room by the stage.”
   “Da I wanna knaw wha' 'm cleanin' up dis time?” Joey asked.
   “No.” Descharme simply stated and started down the hallway.
   “Dese people make me sick!” He called after his boss with a disgusted look on his face.
   “Yeah, well, if the money's right, I don't have a problem looking the other way.” Descharme threw over his shoulder as he continued down the hallway to his office. When he reached his destination he opened the door and disappeared behind it, leaving Wheeler to take care of his latest chore, alone.
   For a moment Joey starred disbelievingly at the closed door. Finally shaking his head and grumbling under his breath about the disgusting nature of the filthy rich, he headed towards the utility closet to drop off the items he was carrying. Upon his arrival he put the mop and pail away. When he was finished he closed the door and started towards the stage, doing his best to keep his head down and his eyes to the floor.

   Descharme leaned back in his comfortable black leather chair and closed his eyes, trying desperately to relieve the stress that had been building up in his system over the course of the day.
   Just as he was starting to relax his private line rang. The fat man jumped and looked at the clock. It was one-thirty in the morning. Wondering who it could be at this time of night, he reached into his suit jacket and withdrew a tiny, black cell phone. Whoever it was, it was important. No one used this line except his highest paying, most private clients.
   “Descharme,” he said as he flipped open the small device.
   “Good evening.” A deep, tenor spoke through the receiver. He recognized the voice immediately. “My boss is on his way over. Make sure you have his usual room prepared with his usual arrangements.”
   “He's on his way, now?” Descharme gasped as he gripped the phone tighter.
   “Yes. We'll be there in less than twenty minutes. Have everything ready. You know how he hates to wait.” The undertone of a threat could be heard in the last part spoken.
   “Twenty minutes! No, wait…it's been too long, I haven't got anyone available on such short notice.” He protested, to no avail. All that could be heard coming from the receiver was a dial tone.
   Descharme sat bolt up-right in his chair and looked around the room frantically. Twenty minutes? What was he going to do? He jumped out of his chair and began to pace the office, mentally running down a list of people who were working or visiting the club that night. He shook his head as he failed miserably to conjure up the name of someone who was stupid enough to accept such an invitation.
   Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and starred at his office door, the most absurd thought springing to mind. There was only one idiot who fit the bill. Problem was, Descharme wasn't sure if he would say yes or not. He hadn't done anything like this in years. The kid had given up such things when he'd given up his life on the streets. With a deep sigh, he squared his shoulders and started for the door. He had no choice, he had to ask. Descharme's business mind thrust into overtime he began to lay the foundation to a proposal that no one could turn down, not even Wheeler.

   The second Descharme stepped out of his office he was in luck. He could see the door to the utility closet was open and he could hear Joey rummaging around inside. For a moment he hesitated. What if the kid refused? He would be shit-out-of-luck and his wealthiest client would have his ass. Trying not to think about it he took a deep breath and ran his game plan over in his mind. He readied himself for any kind of protest and continued to walk down the hallway.
   “Wheeler. Hey, Wheeler!”
   Joey jumped at the sound of his boss' booming voice, the can of air freshener he'd been reaching for slipped from his hand and landed on his head with a metallic thud. With a vicious curse he rubbed the tender area and turned to give his boss a dirty look. That heated stare stopped Descharme dead in his tracks.
   “Wadda ya wan' naw?” Joey ground out through clenched teeth.
   'Damn.' This was not a good start. He had to move quickly if he wanted to get on Wheeler's good side. “Sorry about that. Didn't mean to startle you.” He apologized quickly. Perhaps too quickly.
   Joey was no idiot and he immediately smelled something fishy in the air. His expression of dislike changed to one of surprise, then he levelled Descharme with narrowed eyes dripping with malevolence. “Wadda ya up ta?” He asked carefully.
   Damn the kid for not being the idiot he'd pegged him for. Taking a deep breath and fighting down his growing hysteria, the boss tried to sound as nonchalant as possible and, shrugging his shoulders, simply said, “Nothing, I was just going to ask if you were interested in another job for the night, that's all.”
   “If ya 'adn't noticed, 'm tryin' ta da my jawb but ya keep interruptin' me.” Joey responded as he bent down to pick up the air freshener.
   “Forget about that.” Descharme said with a wave of his hand. “I have something more befitting your stature in mind.”
   “Yea', an' wha' woul' dat be?” Wheeler asked as he turned back to the closet, afraid he wasn't going to like the answer.
   “Oh, nothing too important.” The boss said flippantly, “Just wondering if you're still interested in earning some extra cash, on the side.”
   It was his last three words that had Joey stopping in midair. The last time Descharme had had this conversation with him, he'd been fifteen. It had been just before he'd met the gang, decided to get off the streets and return home. Joey remembered that last encounter well. The man had hurt him so badly he hadn't been able to walk properly for a week. His honey-brown eyes grew round as saucers and he began to back away from the closet, trying to put as much distance between himself and his boss as possible.
   “Naw way.” Joey protested waving his hands in front of him and tripping over his feet as he made his way down the hallway. “I ain't eve' doin' dat shit again. I told ya, I was t'rough.”
   Descharme swore. This was getting him nowhere. Looking at his watch he cursed again. Sixteen minutes, he needed more time. Letting his business mind take control he launched his proposal.
   “Listen Wheeler, this guy is a good client. My best client, if you want to know the truth, and he's on his way here now.” Joey continued to back away, waving his hands in the air and now he'd added shaking his head to the whole dance of denial.
   “Don' care,” he responded. “Nawt my prob'em.”
   “Please, just listen to me.” Descharme begged as he tried to stop his porter from reaching the corner of the hallway. If he did, he knew the kid would bolt. “This guy pays well, really well. And if you do this favour for me, one last time,” He added trying to calm the blonds' fears. “then I'll give you…” He hesitated for a moment running the numbers over in his head, “…ten percent of the take.”
   With that last announcement Wheeler stopped dead in his tracks. Ten percent? That sounded like an awful lot of money. But he decided he'd better find out what ten percent was before he said yes. His boss was only too eager to back out of his deals once they'd been made. Joey had learned that lesson the hard way.
   Adopting a defiant pose and crossing his arms in front of his chest the blond pressed for details. “An' wha' woul' ya say was ten percen'?” He asked, his eyes taking on a suddenly business-like manner.
   'Damn, the little prick.' Descharme cursed for the hundredth time looking down at his wrist again. Thirteen minuets. He had to work faster. His voice laced with only a hint of desperation the boss answered, “ten thousand dollars.”
   Joey almost pissed his pants.
   He had to work hard at not allowing his surprise to show or his mouth to drop open to the floor. Suddenly, the wheels in Joey's head began to spin. Little details started to make sense. Descharme constantly looking at his watch, then him offering more money to Joey than he had ever made in ten deals. Whoever was on his way must be a very important client, indeed. And someone his boss was afraid of, or he wouldn't be trying so hard to convince Joey to do this. Suddenly, a wicked idea hit him. Maybe he could raise the stakes.
   “Twen'y percen‘.” Wheeler simply stated and waited for Descharme's response.
   His boss almost hit the roof, “WHAT?” He squealed.
   “Ya 'eard me.” Joey said keeping his cool. “Twen'y G's o' naw deal. An' ya'd bedder make up ya're min’ real quick, 'cause 'e's on 'is way.” Wheeler reminded him. His arms still crossed in front of his chest, the blond began to tap his foot as if he was physically ticking off the seconds for his boss.
   In the silence that followed Descharme ran through a hundred different curse words that described his defiant porter perfectly. But he shock his head trying desperately to pull himself out of such thoughts. He was wasting time and he had to make a decision. He suddenly relented, twenty thousand was nothing but a drop in the bucket. He would still see eighty out of the deal and Wheeler would get what he wanted, then he was going to fire the little prick. With that last thought Descharme looked at Joey and nodded once.
   “Wha' was dat?' Joey asked cupping his hand around his ear and leaning towards his boss. “I didn' quo’e 'ear ya.”
   “I said, all right.” He growled, the image of him firing the blonds' sorry ass set firmly in his mind.
   “Good.” Wheeler simply stated. “An' I wan' it when I leave tonigh'.” He added.
   “WHAT?” Descharme squealed again. “You've got to be fucking kidding me?”
   “Naw.” He replied with a simple shake of his head. “I ain't. 'E pays when 'e leaves, righ'?” Joey asked looking at his boss. All he got for an answer was a short nod. “Good, dan ya can pay me ta. 'Cause I ain't waitin' 'round faw ya ta decide ta 'and it o'er.”
   Now it was Descharme's turn to cross his arms and tap his foot. “Fine.” Was all he managed to say.
   “Dan we 'ave a deal.”
   With that, the boss let out a deep sigh. He closed his eyes for a brief moment feeling like a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. Truth be told, if Wheeler had asked for more, he would have paid it. At this moment in time, he would have given the kid just about anything to say yes.
   Knowing he had no time, Descharme reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out a black keychain with a tiny golden key dangling from its ring. Casually, he tossed it at the blond who had to uncross his arms to catch it. When he had it firmly in hand, Descharme added his instructions. “You know the routine and make it quick,” he snapped. “He'll be here in less than ten minutes.”
   Turning, the boss started to walk back to his office, a little ticked off that he'd just been worked over by a worthless street punk. Suddenly remembering something of great importance, he threw over his shoulder. “Oh, by the way, there are two very important instructions to remember and you'd better follow them to the letter or he doesn't have to pay. First, he doesn't like to be seen. You'll find a black face mask in the change room, use it. Second, he doesn't like any noise. You understand me Wheeler?” He asked noticing that the kid hadn't looked up from the keychain and silently wondered if the blond could hear him or not. He continued anyway, not bothering to find out. “If you make one sound, any sound, we're both finished.” With his instructions delivered he returned to his office, hoping the kid had been listening.

   Joey stared at the black keychain sitting in the palm of his hand, anticipation coursing through ever fibre of his being. He'd been working here long enough to know what this meant. He was being directed to the 'Locked Room'. The one at the very end of the Pleasure Hallway that no one was ever allowed to enter. The one that had been decorated and set up for one person and one person only. The most important client Descharme had. The client. Nobody knew who it was, of course, but there were whispers and the staff talked.
   Some thought it was the Mayor of the city and some thought it was a foreign business tycoon or maybe a member of royalty that stopped by when visiting Domino, since the room was never used that often. No wonder Descharme had been as jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He was being asked to provide for his number one client.
   Shaking away the thought, Joey began to move. He'd heard Descharme's instructions and knew he only had a few moments to prepare himself. And with butterflies doing flip-flops in his stomach, he was going to need every minute.

   A few moments later, the blond found himself standing in front of a solid black door. With shaky hands, he inserted the key in the lock and turned. The latch clicked and the portal swung open with no problem. He slipped inside and closed the door, remembering to leave it unlocked so the patron could enter, and turned around, almost knocking over a glass 'n brass liquor cart. He studied it for a moment and, although he wasn't much of a connoisseur of fine things, he knew the glasses were made from crystal and the golden liquid in the decanter was expensive.
   Then he turned to look at the room. It was bigger than Joey had expected. On the floor was a rich, dark-blue carpet. From the look of it, the material was soft and expensive. The walls, on the other hand, were made from polished chrome.
   Spaced evenly around the room, halfway up the walls, were light fixtures. The wattage of the lighting was low and the shades of the lamps were all turned towards the ceiling. The result was a soft, gentle glow that enveloped the large space with just enough light to see by but not enough to make out any great detail.
   Other than that, the room was empty. No bed, no couch, nothing. That meant he was expected to kneel on the floor. The knowledge gave him some insight as to his soon-to-be visitor. The guy was a control freak and he wanted his victims to be submissive. 'Whatever,' Wheeler shrugged to himself. He'd played that role before.
   Knowing he had no time to waste, Joey looked around in search of the change room. Spotting a door to his left he quickly made his way over to it and stepped inside. He had expected a little cubby-hole or a closet of some kind but he gasped when he was presented with a full-fledged bathroom.
   The walls and floor were beautifully tiled in dark blue. The sink and toilet were made from polished chrome and in the corner, off to his left, was a stand-up shower stall made of solid blue glass. In the other corner, directly to his right, was a long, narrow bench made from metal and upholstered in a deep-blue velvet.
   'Wow', Joey thought to himself as he stood with his mouth gapping wide open. He'd never seen such wealth. Well, not outside of Kaiba's eccentric surroundings, that was. He suppressed a shudder as the annoying fools' smirking face flashed before his eyes, then he willed it away and began to undress. He didn't need that shit putting him in a bad mood. He had to do this right. He desperately needed the money.
   When he was completely naked he walked over to the sink and turned on the cold water. Splashing a generous amount onto his flushed face; trying his best to push back his fear and come to terms with the reality of his situation.
   It wasn't like he hadn't done this before. Years ago, when he'd run away from his drunken father, joined the gang and lived on the streets, he'd sold himself for a hot meal, a warm bed to sleep in and a chance to stay alive. This time, he was selling himself for a much nobler cause; his family. But somehow that didn't make him feel any better. He closed his eyes and sighed, listening to the gentle sound of the water running in the sink and tried to psyche up some courage. He almost cursed his family for putting him through this but then he remembered it wasn't their fault. He had made his choice. If his mother didn't need chemotherapy for her cancer, if his drunken father didn't need to eat and have a roof over his head and if his sister hadn't needed the money to go to boarding school, Joey wouldn't be here. 'Whatever,' he shrugged again. Joey had to do what he had to do. He was the only one who could take care of his family. They were his entire world.
   Taking a deep breath he splashed some more water on his face and reached for a dark-blue towel hanging from a metal towel rack. Joey dried himself off and stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He hated himself in that moment and his eyes shone with self-loathing. Taking a deep breath, he refolded the towel and placed it back on the rack noticing, for the first time, the black face mask Descharme had mentioned earlier. He removed it from the stand and shut off the water. With the mask firmly in hand Joey turned around and left the bathroom hoping it would hide him from his visitor as much as it would hide his visitor from him.

   Moving to the centre of the room Joey got down on his hands and knees. He slipped the face mask on and assumed an all too familiar position, one he cursed with every breath he took. First he spread his legs, then he placed his hands behind his head, one on top of the other. Finally, he lowered his chin to the floor, preparing himself to accept his fate.
   He didn't have long to wait. A heartbeat later the door opened and slowly closed. He heard the latch catch in the doorjamb and the lock clicking into place. This was it! It was time for Wheeler to swallow his pride one last time. Soon, it would be over and he would never have to do anything like this again. Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, careful not to make any noise, he tried to brace himself for what he knew was coming. The demands, the pain, the humiliation. Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath, a huge part of him hoping this guy would make it quick, then leave. Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky.
   After he locked the door, Kaiba moved to the small liquor cart on his left and poured himself a generous amount of brandy. Slowly, he savoured the burning warmth of the golden liquid, then placed the snifter back on the table. He took off his sunglasses, no longer needing the shelter of their mirrored lenses, and returned them to his inside pocket. Next, he removed his coat and tie and hung them on the pegs provided. Finally, he turned his attention to the young man kneeling in the centre of the room. Critically, he studied his prey, silently approving of his muscular form. Even in the low light he could see his perfectly sculpted features. Casually, Kaiba made his approach, taking his time and savouring the smell of fear emanating from his soon-to-be victim. He took a deep breath enjoying it's tangible presence in the air. Almost immediately Kaiba's erection bulged against the cashmere-wool blend of his tailored trousers. He'd been right, he was definitely going to take great pleasure in enforcing his will.
   With his eyes covered, Joey's other senses took over. Especially his hearing. Every sound the man behind him made was magnified by one hundred. The tiniest scoff of his shoes, the gentle sound of expensive fabric rubbing together as the man moved. Even his thick, measured breathing. And every movement the man made seemed to stretch out forever. It took an eternity for the guy to walk around him. Joey knew he was surveying his prize but what did he care. Let him look! He was proud of his body and he had nothing to be ashamed of. Joey spent hours at the gym working out, keeping himself toned and healthy.
   A sudden surge of pride coursed through him at the thought of this guy's admiration then he quickly suppressed it. The last thing he needed was to want this man to like him. But he was too late, Kaiba was hooked.
   Seto couldn't believe how beautiful he was. He was handsome and toned, his body perfectly proportioned in every way. The muscles on his back, arms and legs rippled nicely under gorgeously tanned skin. His pectorals were well shaped, his stomach washboard and rigged. His throat was long, lean and corded and his ass was firm-looking and well-formed. The face mask Kaiba insisted on covered the upper part of his face, hiding a good portion of the young man's features from view, but Seto could see his square jaw line, his strong, defiant chin and his perfectly sculpted lips. But the most becoming feature of all was his thick, soft-looking mane of blond hair. Kaiba loved blonds. He had a horrible weakness for them. And this one was a true blond in every way. From the top of his head to his armpit hair to his pubic region and Seto almost wept with pleasure. Descharme and certainly outdone himself this time. If this guy was anywhere near as good as Kaiba hoped then Descharme was going to see a nice little bonus.
   With shaky hands the brunette reached for the buttons of his shirt. He fumbled a few times as he undid them, then he pulled his shirttails out of his trousers and gently reached for that head of hair he had admired so much. Seto sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers acknowledged exactly what he'd been hoping for; hair so soft you could spin it into silk. He closed his eyes and moaned as his fingers sank into that beautiful mane. Kaiba's throat went dry and his lips felt parched and he silently wished he had another shot of brandy.
   Joey jumped as he felt the man snake his fingers through his hair. He hadn't been expecting that. He quickly recovered from his reaction and forced himself to remain motionless, taking great care to keep his breathing quiet and even. Too late. The man behind him had felt his response and an unexpected thrill surged through Kaiba. His erection swelled painfully against its confines and Kaiba quickly reached down to undo his trousers, allowing himself to spill forward and relieve the pressure of his desire. That's when he knew he could wait no longer, he had to have him. He fell to his knees, his right hand reaching around to encircle Joey's neck. Finally, with more force then he'd intended, Kaiba pulled the blonds' body flat against his chest.
   Joey gasped at the suddenness of the gesture and forced down another as Kaiba dipped his head and sank his teeth into Joey's throat. But to his surprise there was no pain, realizing the man wasn't biting him, he was kissing him! Joey had expected something close to rape but this man definitely had other plans. And his suspicions were confirmed when the guy began to slowly caress his body.
   First he felt the man's left hand on his ass, stroking and squeezing, then that soft, firm hand slowly made it's way over his hip and down his thigh. It traveled as far as possible before slowly making its way back up, gently scrapping his flesh with perfectly manicured nails. To Joey's horror he found he enjoyed the sensation and with a moan he closed his eyes and leaned into his visitor. Kaiba released a moan of his own as he moved to Joey's ear. First he sucked on his earlobe, then the brunette caught it in his teeth and pulled ever so gently, finally releasing him to stick out his tongue and lick a wet trail up his throat and over the back of Joey's ear.
   The gesture disgusted the blond but what disgusted him even more was the sudden erection that sprung up between his legs. God! This guy was actually getting him hard! Fear clawed at Joey's mind and turned his stomach. He had to get away. He had to end this now no matter how bad he needed the money. There was definitely no way he was going to enjoy the embrace of another man.
   The blond tried to pull away without success, the stranger's grip was strong. But Joey wasn't about to give in. Once again he leaned forward, trying to put some distance between himself and the guy behind him. And once again his attempt failed. That's when he heard an all too familiar chuckle in his ear.
   “Now, now my little pet, you'll not get away from me that easily.” Kaiba chided, mad at himself for having to speak. He didn't like to talk. Conversation was the last thing on his mind and at the sound of that hated voice Joey froze.
   'Kaiba?' His mind screamed. 'Seto Kaiba? NO!' First his mind went blank with shock, then he exploded into action. There was no way in hell Joey was ever going to let Kaiba get the best of him like this.
   He tried to stand but the brunette's grip on his throat held him down. Unfortunately, Joey was a fighter and he was stubborn, two things that did not go well together and that's when Kaiba knew he had to work quickly to subdue his prey. His right hand tightened around the blonds' larynx at the same time his left hand reached down and grabbed a fist full of scrotum. Joey cried out in pain and frustration as both hands squeezed, exerting just enough pressure to bring his unwilling victim under control. But Joey wasn't about to admit defeat just yet. He tried, one last time, forcing Kaiba to apply more pressure and, once again, pain shot through his entire body from head to toe.
   Anger coursed through Kaiba's veins and he spoke with barely controlled fury. “Hold still and I'll release you.” He hissed, but Joey had no intention of listening as he continued to try and free himself. That's when Kaiba lost his patience. He tightened both his grips to the point of intense pain and a strangled cry barely erupted past Joey's lips.
   “Sit still!” Kaiba demanded and the blond obeyed, humiliation and despair filling him up and spilling over in the form of tears.
   Disappointed, Kaiba released his grip on Joey's scrotum and rested his forehead against the back of his neck, relaxing his hold on his throat but never letting go. What had gone wrong? Everything had been going perfectly when all of a sudden his little pet had balked. For a moment the young brunette sat in silence, trying to find a way to regain control of the situation. In the quiet that followed, he could hear the blonds' sobs. Joey hung his head in defeat as tears quietly flowed down his cheeks, soaking the mask. Slowly, Kaiba pulled his prey against his chest and tried again.
   “It's okay, my little pet, I'm not going to hurt you.” He purred, causing Joey to cringe. The sound of Kaiba's voice was thick with desire, his breath heavy and warm against his skin as he continued to weep.
   Kaiba sighed and before he knew what he was doing he whispered, “Have no fear, I only wish to enjoy you,” The brunette informed him as he took the blonds' length in his hand and began to stroke its velvety flesh.
   Joey shuddered and heaved a deep sigh as he leaned his head against Kaiba's shoulder, lost in the feel of the CEO's masterful caress. Suppressing another shudder he closed his eyes and let his mind wander, thinking about the situation he found himself in.
   The way he saw it he had two choices. Either he continued to make a fuss to end this ordeal and risk revealing his identity or he remained quiet and let Kaiba finish what he'd started, chalking it up as another moment when Rich Boy had him on his knees like a dog. Finally, take Kaiba's money and use it to help his family. Joey almost laughed out loud at the irony. Of course, the answer to his self-imposed question was a no-brainer. Even Joey, with his limited streetwise intelligence, knew he was going to let Kaiba finish. He might as well enjoy it. The blonds' thoughts put a relaxed smile on his face, one that did not go unnoticed by his wealthy visitor.
   “It's good to see you in a better mood, my little pet.” The brunette teased, the remark stinging Joey's pride and causing him to tense. But he remembered his place and taking a deep breath, let it out slowly, relaxing against Kaiba once again. “Much better. Good boy.” The ascetic businessman taunted and watched with great fascination as his prey struggled with his vanity.
   Generally, it was a trait Seto never wanted to see in his victims. He preferred them quiet and submissive. But he admired this one's spirit. Unable to control the sudden urge that poured though his soul he tilted Joey's head back and captured his lips in a deep, hungry kiss. He parted the blonds' mouth and thrust his tongue deep inside letting out a long, low moan of pleasure. 'God! He tasted as good as he looked!' Instinctively, Joey's hand reached up and rested on the back of Kaiba's head, pulling him closer. The gesture shocked the brunette but what shocked him even more was that he liked it. He never allowed his victims to touch him. Ever. But here he was, letting it go and instead of reprimanding his prey he continued his exploration of the blonds' perfect body. He released Joey long enough to take a deep breath, then captured his lips again as his hand traced a searing path up his stomach and over his chest.
   Once there Kaiba took possession of a tender nipple, inflicting his tortuous will. With forefinger and thumb he gently pinched the budding flesh causing the nub to go taut and hard. With a cry, Joey pulled away from Kaiba and arched his back. Seto pinched again and Wheeler tensed, his cry echoing throughout the empty room.
   Kaiba hadn't realized how much he could enjoy the sounds of his victims. This one thrilled him, filled him with a need he never thought he would feel again. His shaft throbbed and ached for release. He could feel his desire pulsing through his veins, could feel the tiny bead of juice forming at the tip of his erection and in that moment he knew he was lost. Suddenly, he felt the need to bury himself deep inside this beautiful body, to lose himself until he was empty of everything, and Joey knew it, he could feel Kaiba losing control, feel his stiff rod poking into his back and to his horror, it thrilled him. He was making Seto Kaiba act like this. He was the reason Rich Boy was in such a state. Not anyone else but him; Joey Wheeler. And before he knew what he was saying, Joey was begging Kaiba to take him.
   “P’ease.” he cried out, “naw!”
   “Yes, now.” Seto rasped breathlessly in his ear.
   Grabbing hold of himself and placing the tip of his shaft at the centre of Joey's being, Kaiba sank into his prey. He felt his victim tense and, to stop his quarry from taking flight, Kaiba's right hand tightened across Joey's chest as his left hand flew to his hip, holding the blond tight against his body.
   Seto's long fingers dug into soft flesh as Joey tried to pull away several times but his attempts were useless, Kaiba held fast. Although his body cried out for movement, the brunette forced himself to remain still, giving the blond time to adjust. When he finally felt his prey relax, he released his grip and began to move. Slowly, methodically, Seto pulled out of Joey till all that remained was the tip, then he sank into him again. A wounded mewl of emotional pain or physical pleasure, Kaiba wasn't sure which, escaped the blonds' lips as another tear etched a path down his cheek.
   The brunette would have been shocked to learn it was both. To Joey's horror he found himself getting lost in the feeling. Humiliated and angry with himself for letting his most hated rival make love to him, Joey silently wondered what the guys would think if they ever found out what he was doing. Of course they would be disgusted with him, ashamed to call him their friend. And he was disgusted with himself for taking pleasure in it.
   Weak with the exertion of his mental war, Joey fell forward on his hands and knees, offering the brunette deeper access to his exquisite physique. Kaiba allowed the blond to have his new position and from that moment forward it was nothing more than a frenzied swarm of two bodies working together to reach that one second in time. Both men, hot and sweaty from their fevered pursuit, rocked back and forth, each one working together to reach the same goal. Finally, Kaiba reached his limits. He exploded with the intensity of it and wordlessly panted out his release with short, ragged breaths.
   Afterwards, the two young men remained locked in that position for what felt like an eternity until Kaiba took quiet note that the blond hadn't climaxed. For a brief moment he was disappointed, then the brunette quickly pushed the emotion aside, a wicked smirk suddenly spreading across his handsome face. Slowly, Kaiba removed himself from Joey's body and leaned forward, placing his hands on the blonds' bottom. Spreading long, eloquent fingers over each cheek, Kaiba stretched his flesh, opening the blond wide to his administrations.
   At first, Wheeler wondered what Kaiba was doing, then the blond gasped with shock when he felt the tip of the brunette's tongue dart deep inside. Seto licked and lapped, the rough appendage darting in and out as he sucked up every drop of seed he'd just poured into the blonds' beautiful body. Quietly, Kaiba remembered when he'd been forced to do this as a child. It had been his adoptive father's twisted form of entertainment and Seto had hated him for it. Hated the taste and the shame that went along with it. But this time Kaiba found himself wanting to do it, to give something back as a bonus for perfection. And reward he did till there was nothing left of his demanding intrusion.
   When the brunette was finished he sat back on his heels and commanded for Joey to stand. At first, Wheeler didn't know what to make of the demand, until it came again, and with more authority.
   “I said stand and face me.” The blond jumped to his feet without question, slightly off balance due to the restrictions of the facial mask but he immediately regained his composure, standing, and quietly waited for further instructions. “Now,” Kaiba paused, taking a deep breath. “Give yourself to me.”
   At the request, Joey's mouth gapped wide open with surprise. Was the stoic CEO going to do what he thought he was going to do? He got his answer a moment later when he felt the brunette lean forward and take Joey's length in his mouth. He gasped with surprise and pleasure as Kaiba sucked him deep inside. Instinctively, the blonds' hands shot out to capture handfuls of soft, expensively manicured hair, his stance widening as he braced himself for Kaiba's oral assault.
   Again, Seto's mind wandered back to his youth, when he'd been forced to perform these tasks for his adoptive father's amusement. And again, he had hated the bastard for it. His memories of the past were overshadowed by the fact that this time he was in control. That this was something he wanted to do. Remembering Gozaburo's earlier teachings he slowly and deliberately brought Joey to climax, priding himself in the knowledge that as he did, he never lost a drop. After all, he was Seto Kaiba, he was the best at everything he did.
   When it was over Joey fell to his knees in front of his hated rival and for the first time in his life he was speechless. His mind trying desperately to assimilate everything that had just happened.
   Across from him, Kaiba stared in silent admiration. This one fascinated him and he longed to remove the mask that covered his face, to reveal the identity of the one that had captured his soul for the first time in forever. But he didn't. He couldn't risk being identified. His face was too recognizable and he wasn't going to give this man that kind of power over him. But he did allow himself one desire. Kaiba leaned forward and captured Joey's mouth for one last, earth-shattering kiss.
   Wheeler returned his kiss with the same enthusiasm, feasting on the taste of himself on Kaiba's lips. He moaned with pleasure as he drank of the rich, musky flavour. Reluctantly, Seto brought the kiss to an end. He had gotten more than he'd bargained for from this encounter already and it was time to go.
   Slowly he stood, leaving his quarry on his knees and turned to gather his clothing. Before he left, he reached for the bandy and took a long swallow straight from the decanter. When he had quenched his thirst he pulled his jacket and tie down off the peg and put them on. As he reached for the lock, he hesitated. He had one more thing he wanted to do. One more gesture of thanks to give his delightful victim.
   Silently, he returned to the centre of the room and dropped something in front of Joey. It landed on the floor with a gentle thud.
   “For you're incredibly beautiful performance and for your silence.” Without another word he donned his sunglasses and left the room leaving Wheeler to maul over the past events in quiet solitude.

   As soon as Kaiba closed the door Descharme made his appearance.
   “I hope everything was to your satisfaction, Sir.” He inquired hesitantly.
   “Everything was fine.” Kaiba replied. “As a matter of fact, it was perfect.” He added. “Wherever did you find such a man?”
   “Oh, Wheeler's been around for years.” the night club owner responded flippantly. To his horror, a second later he found himself thrown up against the wall.
   “What name did you say?” Kaiba demanded with a menacing growl.
   “Ah, Wheeler. Joey Wheeler.” Descharme chocked out. “He's worked for me for years.”
   Kaiba swayed from the club owner's revelation. For a moment he felt like he was going to throw up. He dropped his hand from the fat man's suit as bile rose in his throat, then he fell back against the opposite wall, trying desperately to maintain his control. It had been Wheeler? One of the most incredible encounters of his life had been with that mangy mutt who called himself a duelist? He was too stunned to speak. Kaiba closed his eyes and threw his head back, willing himself to breathe. His mind raced violently through every moment he'd spent in that room and with a stomach-churning realization he understood what had gone wrong. The moment he had uttered his first words, the Mutt had known who it was.
   With a second stomach-churning realization Kaiba had to admit he was disappointed. However much he hated to admit it, his heart sank in his chest and a tear, he was unable to stop, escaped his left eye and burned a path down his cheek. Immediately, he reached up and wiped it away, cursing himself for his weakness. He'd sworn years ago that he would never cry again. Yet, here he was, in the back of a shady night club wanting to weep like a love-sick child over a person he abhorred with utter malice. If only he'd known…
   With shaky legs, Kaiba pushed himself off the wall and began to make his way back to the Rolls.
   “Is everything alright, Sir?” His Personal Assistant asked from the shadows of the hallway.
   “Everything will be fine, Roland.” Kaiba replied over the bile that threatened to reform. “Take care of Descharme and Roland,” He threw over his shoulder as an afterthought. “Give him a little something extra for all his hard work. Call it severance pay.” He finished, then swept through the doors like it had been just another day at the office.
   “Yes Sir.” Was the guardian's only response although Kaiba never heard it. He didn't have to, his Personal Assistant's loyalty was unquestionable.
   Immediately, Roland turned on the night club owner and withdrew a large stack of bills from his suit coat pocket. “For your service and your silence.” He stated, handing him the money, then he lowered his voice and his tone turned menacingly cold. “If these past years of events should ever become public knowledge, the police will never find the body.”
   With that, the massive bodyguard turned and left the shady establishment leaving Descharme to gap after both men in wordless astonishment.
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Yu-Gi-Oh! Dragon Slayer