Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

In the AM	By : DrummerDancer Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5904 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-In the AM
- 1
Characters/Pairings: Prideshipping (Seto Kaiba x Yami Yugi)

Warnings: First time sex

They do it on a Saturday morning, after all the late-night Domino drivers have skittered off the road but before the early birds have quite finished their first cup of coffee. The halls in the mansion are dark, curtains pulled over floor-to-ceiling windows as Kaiba reckons it’s best they don’t alert his staff to what they’re up to.
Kaiba would love to do it in every room of the house, though, starting in the kitchen, where he would paint Yami’s skin with reds and blues, with berries and sugars fit for royalty, that would leave stains for days and nights. On his arms, his legs, his face, his chest—every inch Kaiba’s to color and mark at leisure.
In the living room, he’d bind Yami’s wrists and press his face flush against the mahogany coffee table and run his finger up his naval, feeling ever muscles twitch and spasm like static along a cable. Yami’s hair would lay in waves around his face, sweaty and red as Kaiba pulled his trousers to his ankles.
The game room was a favorite illusion of Kaiba’s. Surround by the innocent games that made them rivals, Kaiba would revel in smudging out that last bit of purity he knew by having Yami hook his knees over his shoulders, planes of his back circled in a halo of stray playing cards on his pool table, Yami calling his name, mouth bruised, brow lined with sweat.
Ultimately, though, the affair is less grandiose. They end up going to one of the guest rooms on the first floor, both walking, Kaiba awkwardly holding the door open for Yami to enter, playing with the lube and condom in his pocket. To his credit, Yami keeps his nerves to himself and says very little, only a yes or a no when Kaiba asks him what he wants to do and how he wants to do it. He sits on the bed, crosses both his legs and his arms, and waits for Kaiba to empty his pockets and set the supplies on the night table.
Kaiba’s apprehensive about actually touching Yami at first. His face is blank, his back stiff and posture like stone. But Yami doesn't flinch when the bed sags next to him, when Kaiba sits himself only an inch away, or when Kaiba slips his hand behind Yami’s ear and rubs the skin there, tender and smooth like skin touched only to be washed and dried. Yami’s gaze remains trained on Kaiba’s nose, trained even when Kaiba presses their lips together and feels his warm breath, until Kaiba dares to press further, into Yami’s mouth. Yami closes his eyes at that and lets his arms rest at his sides.
When they break, Kaiba slips off his jacket and Yami pulls his shirt overhead and lays down. He looks calm, relaxed, even though Kaiba can see his heart beating like a strobe light in his neck, crazy and staccato. It is quiet. Kaiba shifts and the bed springs bounce, and Kaiba straddles his legs over Yami’s knees and kisses his neck, where the beating is the strongest, the place he is most alive.
There is no fighting, no dramatics. Nothing at all like he’s envisioned. How easy Yami accepts the circumstances, managing to eventually rest his hands on Kaiba’s shoulders as Kaiba undoes their belts and pulls Yami’s trousers down, never once demanding they switch places or stop altogether. Kaiba thinks he’s disappointed, but then Yami makes a face like he’s going to sneeze when Kaiba runs his hand over his cock and the thought is banished, that one look worth everything to Kaiba, because it’s now his and his alone.
Perhaps Yami’s more rational than Kaiba cares to acknowledge, rational in the logistics and the end they’re trying to meet. Maybe he remembers more than he’s letting on about his past and this kind of crazy affair is second nature to him, but then, why is he so complacent to receive instead of lead? The thought circles violently in Kaiba’s head, making his jaw tense as he wonders what else Yami keeps to himself.
It’s exactly six a.m. when Kaiba sticks a finger up Yami’s ass, the chiming of the grandfather clock drowning out the noise Yami makes. It’s impossible to look dignified in such a position, but Yami almost succeeds by keeping his eyebrows level with the tips of his ears. Only the small frown gives away how painful the penetration is, how awkward his backside must feel, as Kaiba feels around and tries not to embarrass himself. He didn’t warm the lube up, and when he adds more and sticks a second finger in, Yami’s toes curl sharply, as though he’s been stung. Still he stays, maintaining the silence morning brings.
It feels like it takes painfully long to get Yami ready, made longer still by their shared silence. Kaiba’s used to shouting when he’s in Yami’s presence, and to go so quiet is strange and uncomfortable. But what would he say? There’s nothing to say, not when he’s in the middle of fingering Yami’s ass.
In his haste to more forward, Kaiba definitely breaks the condom, and Yami definitely sees him do it. He rips straight through the package, tearing part of the latex in the process. There’s a second condom on the other side, but Yami sits up and takes the entire package from him and calmly opens the second condom before he can break it too.
“…here.” Yami holds the condom out to him, and Kaiba takes it and tries to stifle how self-conscious he feels as Yami stares at his penis and watches him roll the condom on. He gives himself a quick stroke to make certain there’s no air, and Yami nods and lays back down.
Kaiba thinks he should say something, something profound or meaningful or even just plain cheesy as he lines himself up, like they do in the gay porn films where the pretend male teacher bends over the pretend male student and says how much extra credit he’s getting, or how truly hard-up he is for his underage student as he thrusts inside. But Yami just stares up at him blankly, and nothing really happens in the critical thinking department as all the blood seems to just go straight down, as Kaiba truly understands Yami’s nakedness for the first time, laid out on the sheets before him. The flat muscles of his torso, the small pink nipples pinched up from the morning air, the sweat that’s started to gather around his clavicles. How his teeth and eyes are the same shade of white.
“…” Kaiba can’t think of anything to say. Embarrassed, he pushes inside a bit quickly to squash the inadequacy of the moment.
Yami’s rectum immediately tenses, and Kaiba knows he’s done something wrong by the pained look that crosses Yami’s face—eyes squinted close, teeth biting his cheek as his fingers tighten on Kaiba’s shoulders, back arching off the bed. Kaiba immediately tries to pull out—but Yami digs his fingers in further to hold him in place, breathing heavily through his nose.
“Just, ah…wait a sec. It’s not bad,” he says.
Kaiba doesn’t believe him, not even for a hot second. He can feel Yami’s rectum spasming, like it’s trying to squeeze him out by force even as Yami tries to calm his breathing and adjust. Kaiba’s not halfway in yet, and the hole is achingly tight, and Kaiba’s having trouble thinking from how good it feels, even as he knows it’s his very dick hurting Yami.
Carefully, Kaiba leans forward and presses his mouth to Yami’s neck again, kissing the skin, feeling the pulse that’s now jumping erratically, thinking again he should pull out and end this crazy pursuit. This was foolish. They weren’t lovers—they were hardly friends. All that existed between them was a thin line of respect and a few ass-grabs on occasion, because being a teenager was confusing, because Kaiba didn’t know why he wanted Yami’s ass and not some girl’s. Or why Yami let him, encouraged him between duels, in the corridors of the Battle City blimp and the hallways of school, why he welcomed this invasion when it led to this path of pain he was now under. Why he welcomed it still.
Kaiba feels Yami swallow, and say, quietly, “I think I’m ok now. You can keep going, if you want.”
“Is that what you want?” Kaiba asks, tilting his hips forward just the slightest bit to gauge Yami’s reaction. Yami’s fingers dig into his shoulders at the movement, and his abdomen tightens like it’s preparing for a scalpel up his backside. But Yami nods, vigorously, like he’s desperate for them to continue, still biting his cheek.
“Yes…I…it’s okay now. Keep going. Please.”
The sun is just starting to rise, forming a glowing hazel patch in the corner of one of Kaiba’s dark curtains. The opportunity to go uninterrupted will pass soon if they don’t continue, and Kaiba’s house will be busy with staff trying to find him. Kaiba nods and pushes in—pushes until he feels Yami’s backside touch the top of his balls. To Yami’s credit, he manages to keep from breaking the skin on Kaiba’s shoulders with his nails, choosing instead to channel the pain down through his feet, arching them like spears into the mattress. He’s humming lowly in his throat, like he’s trying to numb out the pain with song.
“…is it okay?” Kaiba finally asks.
“‘Yeah, it’s…it’s alright. Kinda weird. Does it uh, feel good…inside me?”
Kaiba feels his face go red. “Just peachy.”
“That’s good, right?”
Something wrong is happening inside Kaiba’s chest. He’s talking to Yami like a sane person. For the first time, they’re making eye contact, at a moment that Kaiba feared would be awkward as hell for the both of them. But Yami doesn’t look awkward; a bit uncomfortable, yes, but the sheen of sweat on his skin has relaxed his harsh features, smoothed them out to make him seem near youthful in his appearance, instead of proper and pharaoh-like as usual. His knees are hugging Kaiba’s sides with near affection, like he wants to keep Kaiba there forever, and it’s unraveling Kaiba, because these feelings are completely alien to him.
“I’m going to move now,” Kaiba says, rising up to his knees as he hangs on to the underside of Yami’s knees.
Yami wraps his arms around Kaiba’s neck, pulling himself close enough to kiss Kaiba’s neck in return. “I’m ready.”
He makes little thrusts at first, finding his rhythm and taking care to remember every detail of the moment. Would they do this again? Would Yami want to, again, with him? Kaiba knows he should be relieved to be getting this out of his system, so he can go back to focusing on work and not thinking about the color of Yami’s pubic hair (it’s black—just black. No funky-ass colors) or the exact shade of violet in his eyes. But he’s not relieved; panic is starting to spread inside his lungs, as he thinks in five, ten minutes, they’ll be done, and this is it, he’ll never see Yami like this again…
Yami is radiant, is glowing as his grunts and moans mingle with Kaiba’s own. Yami hooks the crook of his elbow behind Kaiba’s neck, pulling himself heart-to-heart with Kaiba, and hisses his first name in Kaiba’s ear, Seto, Seto more…Faster…
And Kaiba thinks something inside of him is breaking, the very center of his heart as he kisses Yami on the lips, closes his eyes even as his head screams to keep them open, to remember everything about this moment.
Yami’s voice goes wisp-thin as he says, “I…mhh…ah,” and Kaiba feels him seize up, feels his orgasm wreck all the way up his chest, his neck, his lidded eyes. Kaiba’s whole mouth goes dry and he shouts something, nothing, everything—he stills, hugging his arms around Yami’s back as he pants against Yami’s nose, sweat-slicked and alive. Time is suspended like this, holding Yami, like this.
Yami slowly cards a hand up Kaiba’s neck, through his damp hair, to the center of Kaiba’s forehead, to the top of Kaiba’s lips. His small hand wraps around all of Kaiba’s mouth, and then he pulls his hand to his own mouth, and kisses it, eyes still closed. “What was that for?” Kaiba asks.
“One for later…I’m saving one kiss for later. When life gets messy, and you hole up in your office. I’ll still have this one, for then.”
Kaiba’s chest swims, and he closes the space between their mouths, to take a dozen kisses, because one would never be enough for him. The clock chimes somewhere in the house; but in the quiet guest room, time goes unmeasured.
- 1
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In the AM