Vindication and Desperation [Bakura Ryou x Yami no Bakura]
Title: Vindication and Desperation
Author: hales731
Fandom: Yuugiou
Pairing: Bakura Ryou x Yami no Bakura (That's right... Ryou's on top for once!)
Rating: R
Genre: Angst, Drama, Smut. :|
Theme for 30_kisses: 8 :||: Our Own World FINAL THEME!!
Summary: Maybe, just maybe, a world of their own would be something of worth.
Yami no Bakura rarely pondered things other than his plan of revenge. He had always been goal-oriented, never pausing to consider anything except what would be of greatest personal gain.
From his inception-beginning with that singular, bloody night-cruelty, manipulation, and malice dominated Bakura’s emotions. Many of his hosts-his landlords-over the millennia were forced to witness the results of his sadistic will.
Nothing and nobody matter to him unless they could bring him what he sought.
Or so he had believed. That singular concept ran through his mind as he stared down at the boy kneeling before him. The foolish Ishtar’s shouts filled his ears as his host lay crippled in pain before him. His calculating mind sped quickly, thoughts clouding his brilliant mind as he raced to make a decision.
The thief had always been talented at these types of games; his ability to quickly solve rational and logical dilemmas was phenomenal. But this boy before him simply dumbfounded him. Even now, as Bakura tried to decide what the best for of action would be-whether he should follow through with Ishtar’s plan or stop the duel himself; he did need the boy’s body after all-his landlord was crying out to him.
Please! I know you’re there! Please! It hurts so much!
Part of Bakura desired to denounce his landlord as nothing more than a weakling, but Bakura was no fool. His landlord-Ryou, his mind supplied-was no weak child. The thief had seen him stand up for the pharaoh and his friends, and that was no feat of ease. Something else, however, was there, just beyond the outer reaches of Ryou’s mind. A spark of something that escaped Bakura, only succeeding in drawing him closer.
Finally, he decided he had had enough. The decision had been far simpler than he’d thought. He brushed off Ishtar’s incessant thoughts and with a cry, stepped into the oncoming blast, shielding his host.
Sometime later, once Ishtar had returned the Ring to his host’s body, a nagging inner voice began to plague Bakura. When he paused to listen, he was amazed to realize that it was his landlord. Suspicious shock filled him as he sat in the cold, dark room on the CEO’s ship. Never before had his host bothered to confront him.
What do you want? He growled inwardly.
The answering voice was soft and slow to reply. Why?
Bakura bit back a cruel retort. If the boy had found the courage to speak to him, he might prove to be of some use yet. Why what, Landlord?
Why did you save me?
He couldn’t help but scoff. Maybe he had overestimated the boy. I need your body for my destiny, Land-
Ryou…the boy softly interrupted him. My name is Ryou.
You think I don’t know that? He grumbled, and he could feel Ryou shirk away. A smirk graced Bakura’s lips.
Hn. I guess you are a weak fool after all.
There was no response and the thief assumed that Ryou had dissolved back into the grey shadows of his mind. And then, before the thief’s eyes, the low light of the room bent and shivered. His eyes narrowed.
Malik…he hissed. I’ve had about enough…
No… it’s only me… There, before Bakura, stood a transparent version of himself. No… not himself… It was his landlord. Never before had Bakura seen him. He had seen flickers, flashes of white hair and mahogany eyes so like his, but never had he bothered to look at the true appearance of his host.
Bakura swallowed a gasp, eyes narrowing more as he took in the boy’s appearance. He was slender, almost feminine in shape. Pale, mithril colored bangs hung in front of soft, vibrant brown eyes. Bakura could tell from where he sat that everything about the boy was soft, includeing his lips.
You dare… he growled, but was interrupted again.
I see your nightmares, Ryou whispered. Bakura’s became slits through which cold brown eyes barely glinted. They remained trained on Ryou’s silk-soft translucent mouth as he spoke. I see the little boy you once were…
Snarling, Bakura stood and pushed Ryou aside. His host stumbled slightly, but stood his ground. Meanwhile, the thief’s teeth clenched with barely concealed anger.
You know nothing!
Ryou’s fists clenched at his sides, his face set with resolution.
I do too! And I know why you want to kill Yuugi-kun! And… I know... And… I… understand…
Bakura froze. Never before... Never before had anyone… None of his previous hosts had had the courage to face him.
You don’t understand… he started.
I do too… Ryou cut him off again. Transparent hands settled on Bakura’s shoulders, pushing him backwards and towards the bed. The back of his knees hit the bed and he fell back into the sheets. Ryou hovered above him tentatively, as if considering something.
Do you ever wonder? He leant forward and murmured in Bakura’s ear. The action made him shiver lightly. Part of him struggled to push Ryou aside and make him remember his place. Bakura wasn’t the type to sit by and let people control him. Yet as he laid there, Ryou’s hands literally ghosting over him, he could not bring himself to move.
Wonder what? He replied.
Wonder… Ryou’s spectral form leant forward. His lips brushed Bakura’s surprising the thief by how warm they were. The ghosts of his past were always bitter cold to the touch. Wonder what it’d been like if we had met on another occasion; if we had met any other way?
His whispering voice tailed off.
Bakura never paused as he replied. Of course not. Why would I?
Ryou brushed his lips against Bakura’s again and suddenly the thief found himself on a different bed in a different room. The room was vaguely familiar. The walls were painted muted mauve; the paint was peeling. Below Bakura was a well worn bed with sheets of color that was not quite white. In a darkened corner stood a large doll-a girl with pale hair and brown eyes. Wings of contrasting colors graced her back and in her hands was a dual shaded heart.
Bakura’s eyes were attracted by a brighter corner where a bookcase stood. On each shelf sat a lead figurine of each of Ryou’s friends. At the top shelf rested the Pharaoh and his vessel hand in hand.
It took Bakura but a brief moment to realize where he was. Then, his senses returned to him and he felt a weight settling down on his waist. His eyes narrowed once more. Here, in this room, Ryou’s form was no longer translucent. Instead, he was just as real as the spirit beneath him
Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like if things were different… Then, just maybe, I could do this and not fear you or repercussions.
Before Bakura could respond, warm, silk-soft lips covered his, coaxing him to respond. A rush of emotions and sensations sped through Bakura’s nerves. He had never been given the opportunity to experience pleasures of the flesh when he had had his own body, back in his time. He had neither the time nor the desire. But now, he was experiencing desire and passion from the very source he didn’t expect.
Ryou’s small hands began to push aside the blue shirt his other was wearing. Bakura found, now, that he had no will to object. Soon, his striped shirt joined the other and the thief was bare-chested. Surprisingly, Ryou did not remove the Ring form either of their chests and it brought a sense of relief to his other.
When Ryou’s shirt was also removed, Bakura couldn’t help but smirk at the scars on his landlord’s chest. It might’ve been Ryou’s hands removing Bakura’s clothes. It might’ve been Bakura whose back was pressed into the sheets with his landlord above him. In the end, however, Ryou still belonged to the thief.
Eventually, the rest of their clothes joined their shirts on the soul room floor. They remained completely silent but for the soft whimpers of pleasure that spilled from Ryou’s lips and Bakura’s stifled groans. When Ryou’s pressed himself into the body beneath him, Bakura merely bit his lip until it bled. The silence seemed to soothe them both.
Their bodies soon began to rock together in an unsteady rhythm. Bakura and Ryou did not come together but one after another in the passion filled quiet. Ryou had just enough strength to pull out of Bakura before collapsing at his side.
Bakura turned to face Ryou’s sleeping form. He ran a hand through his landlord’s hair, tugging as his fingers became tangled in the mess of white locks. His eyes narrowed again in thought, considering what Ryou had said. The thief blinked once, twice, and then scoffed.
He stood, willing his clothes back on. Bakura took one final look at the figure on the bed before slipping out of the room and back into reality.
His landlord truly was a fool if he thought that his brief allowance of control would deter Bakura from his purpose.
Bakura smirked. No, the needy pleasure that they had just shared only spurred him to continue to fight for his destiny; to regain his true form; to gain the power he so rightly deserved.
Then again, Bakura considered, licking his lips. Once he had achieved his goal, maybe he’d keep the boy, and finally give Ryou proper pay for rent. And maybe… just maybe… a world of their own would be something of worth.
Comments appreciated!
Author: hales731
Fandom: Yuugiou
Pairing: Bakura Ryou x Yami no Bakura (That's right... Ryou's on top for once!)
Rating: R
Genre: Angst, Drama, Smut. :|
Theme for 30_kisses: 8 :||: Our Own World FINAL THEME!!
Summary: Maybe, just maybe, a world of their own would be something of worth.
Yami no Bakura rarely pondered things other than his plan of revenge. He had always been goal-oriented, never pausing to consider anything except what would be of greatest personal gain.
From his inception-beginning with that singular, bloody night-cruelty, manipulation, and malice dominated Bakura’s emotions. Many of his hosts-his landlords-over the millennia were forced to witness the results of his sadistic will.
Nothing and nobody matter to him unless they could bring him what he sought.
Or so he had believed. That singular concept ran through his mind as he stared down at the boy kneeling before him. The foolish Ishtar’s shouts filled his ears as his host lay crippled in pain before him. His calculating mind sped quickly, thoughts clouding his brilliant mind as he raced to make a decision.
The thief had always been talented at these types of games; his ability to quickly solve rational and logical dilemmas was phenomenal. But this boy before him simply dumbfounded him. Even now, as Bakura tried to decide what the best for of action would be-whether he should follow through with Ishtar’s plan or stop the duel himself; he did need the boy’s body after all-his landlord was crying out to him.
Please! I know you’re there! Please! It hurts so much!
Part of Bakura desired to denounce his landlord as nothing more than a weakling, but Bakura was no fool. His landlord-Ryou, his mind supplied-was no weak child. The thief had seen him stand up for the pharaoh and his friends, and that was no feat of ease. Something else, however, was there, just beyond the outer reaches of Ryou’s mind. A spark of something that escaped Bakura, only succeeding in drawing him closer.
Finally, he decided he had had enough. The decision had been far simpler than he’d thought. He brushed off Ishtar’s incessant thoughts and with a cry, stepped into the oncoming blast, shielding his host.
Sometime later, once Ishtar had returned the Ring to his host’s body, a nagging inner voice began to plague Bakura. When he paused to listen, he was amazed to realize that it was his landlord. Suspicious shock filled him as he sat in the cold, dark room on the CEO’s ship. Never before had his host bothered to confront him.
What do you want? He growled inwardly.
The answering voice was soft and slow to reply. Why?
Bakura bit back a cruel retort. If the boy had found the courage to speak to him, he might prove to be of some use yet. Why what, Landlord?
Why did you save me?
He couldn’t help but scoff. Maybe he had overestimated the boy. I need your body for my destiny, Land-
Ryou…the boy softly interrupted him. My name is Ryou.
You think I don’t know that? He grumbled, and he could feel Ryou shirk away. A smirk graced Bakura’s lips.
Hn. I guess you are a weak fool after all.
There was no response and the thief assumed that Ryou had dissolved back into the grey shadows of his mind. And then, before the thief’s eyes, the low light of the room bent and shivered. His eyes narrowed.
Malik…he hissed. I’ve had about enough…
No… it’s only me… There, before Bakura, stood a transparent version of himself. No… not himself… It was his landlord. Never before had Bakura seen him. He had seen flickers, flashes of white hair and mahogany eyes so like his, but never had he bothered to look at the true appearance of his host.
Bakura swallowed a gasp, eyes narrowing more as he took in the boy’s appearance. He was slender, almost feminine in shape. Pale, mithril colored bangs hung in front of soft, vibrant brown eyes. Bakura could tell from where he sat that everything about the boy was soft, includeing his lips.
You dare… he growled, but was interrupted again.
I see your nightmares, Ryou whispered. Bakura’s became slits through which cold brown eyes barely glinted. They remained trained on Ryou’s silk-soft translucent mouth as he spoke. I see the little boy you once were…
Snarling, Bakura stood and pushed Ryou aside. His host stumbled slightly, but stood his ground. Meanwhile, the thief’s teeth clenched with barely concealed anger.
You know nothing!
Ryou’s fists clenched at his sides, his face set with resolution.
I do too! And I know why you want to kill Yuugi-kun! And… I know... And… I… understand…
Bakura froze. Never before... Never before had anyone… None of his previous hosts had had the courage to face him.
You don’t understand… he started.
I do too… Ryou cut him off again. Transparent hands settled on Bakura’s shoulders, pushing him backwards and towards the bed. The back of his knees hit the bed and he fell back into the sheets. Ryou hovered above him tentatively, as if considering something.
Do you ever wonder? He leant forward and murmured in Bakura’s ear. The action made him shiver lightly. Part of him struggled to push Ryou aside and make him remember his place. Bakura wasn’t the type to sit by and let people control him. Yet as he laid there, Ryou’s hands literally ghosting over him, he could not bring himself to move.
Wonder what? He replied.
Wonder… Ryou’s spectral form leant forward. His lips brushed Bakura’s surprising the thief by how warm they were. The ghosts of his past were always bitter cold to the touch. Wonder what it’d been like if we had met on another occasion; if we had met any other way?
His whispering voice tailed off.
Bakura never paused as he replied. Of course not. Why would I?
Ryou brushed his lips against Bakura’s again and suddenly the thief found himself on a different bed in a different room. The room was vaguely familiar. The walls were painted muted mauve; the paint was peeling. Below Bakura was a well worn bed with sheets of color that was not quite white. In a darkened corner stood a large doll-a girl with pale hair and brown eyes. Wings of contrasting colors graced her back and in her hands was a dual shaded heart.
Bakura’s eyes were attracted by a brighter corner where a bookcase stood. On each shelf sat a lead figurine of each of Ryou’s friends. At the top shelf rested the Pharaoh and his vessel hand in hand.
It took Bakura but a brief moment to realize where he was. Then, his senses returned to him and he felt a weight settling down on his waist. His eyes narrowed once more. Here, in this room, Ryou’s form was no longer translucent. Instead, he was just as real as the spirit beneath him
Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like if things were different… Then, just maybe, I could do this and not fear you or repercussions.
Before Bakura could respond, warm, silk-soft lips covered his, coaxing him to respond. A rush of emotions and sensations sped through Bakura’s nerves. He had never been given the opportunity to experience pleasures of the flesh when he had had his own body, back in his time. He had neither the time nor the desire. But now, he was experiencing desire and passion from the very source he didn’t expect.
Ryou’s small hands began to push aside the blue shirt his other was wearing. Bakura found, now, that he had no will to object. Soon, his striped shirt joined the other and the thief was bare-chested. Surprisingly, Ryou did not remove the Ring form either of their chests and it brought a sense of relief to his other.
When Ryou’s shirt was also removed, Bakura couldn’t help but smirk at the scars on his landlord’s chest. It might’ve been Ryou’s hands removing Bakura’s clothes. It might’ve been Bakura whose back was pressed into the sheets with his landlord above him. In the end, however, Ryou still belonged to the thief.
Eventually, the rest of their clothes joined their shirts on the soul room floor. They remained completely silent but for the soft whimpers of pleasure that spilled from Ryou’s lips and Bakura’s stifled groans. When Ryou’s pressed himself into the body beneath him, Bakura merely bit his lip until it bled. The silence seemed to soothe them both.
Their bodies soon began to rock together in an unsteady rhythm. Bakura and Ryou did not come together but one after another in the passion filled quiet. Ryou had just enough strength to pull out of Bakura before collapsing at his side.
Bakura turned to face Ryou’s sleeping form. He ran a hand through his landlord’s hair, tugging as his fingers became tangled in the mess of white locks. His eyes narrowed again in thought, considering what Ryou had said. The thief blinked once, twice, and then scoffed.
He stood, willing his clothes back on. Bakura took one final look at the figure on the bed before slipping out of the room and back into reality.
His landlord truly was a fool if he thought that his brief allowance of control would deter Bakura from his purpose.
Bakura smirked. No, the needy pleasure that they had just shared only spurred him to continue to fight for his destiny; to regain his true form; to gain the power he so rightly deserved.
Then again, Bakura considered, licking his lips. Once he had achieved his goal, maybe he’d keep the boy, and finally give Ryou proper pay for rent. And maybe… just maybe… a world of their own would be something of worth.
Comments appreciated!