Pairings: Respectshipping (Mokuba x Yami), deeply entrenched. Their relationship is already established prior to the start of this one-shot.
Premise: After losing the Ceremonial Duel, the Gods gift Yami with a new body as a reward for his role in defeating Zorc. Years pass and after working out some difficult emotional issues, he finally accepts his existence for what it is. With some help from Mokuba, who has just returned to Domino after completing school overseas, he has a more positive outlook on the opportunities before him. The two fell into a FWB arrangement during this period and, in the end, decided to pursue something more concrete.
Summary: Introducing your boyfriend to a new kink is never easy.
Continuity: This story is based in my "Be Cool" and "Stay Cool" Universe, featuring badass!Yami and older!Mokuba. It leans more heavily towards the anime than the manga. There are some references from those stories here - but if you can accept the premise (above) without having to read them, you shouldn't have any problems. If Mokuba/Yami is difficult for you to perceive, I'd give reading "Be Cool" (the shorter of the two, and complete to boot) a try.
Notes: 1. Despite the summary, THERE IS NO LEMON IN THIS FIC. Sorry, peeps. (There is, however, a lemon in "Be Cool", so if you haven't read it - that's a thing.)
I tried to represent these kinks and reactions to them as realistically as possible. Of course, people all react to and regulate their kinks differently. Perhaps someone you know wouldn't line up with these characters' philosophies. There's nothing wrong with that, nor is it a wrongdoing or shortcoming on either of our parts.
Warnings: Yes. Those. I'll stick warnings here for Nudity, BDSM, Powerplay, and obviously Discussions about Kinks. I don't do warnings often outside of the general Male/Male ones, so if I've missed anything or if you have suggestions on how I could make my warnings more intuitive, let me know.
Mokuba was fretting about his hair. Style isn't always important, he reminded himself.
His hair was large and fluffy and frizzy but it worked well with his lithe figure. It was a part of him: recognizable, iconic; a dynamic backdrop that dramatized his presence. Sometimes he felt daring, and he pulled his hair back for riding his motorbike or generally making a more rough impression. When he wanted to look more sleek and professional, he would press it. In the 'States he had become quite adept at it. Women were known for doing it most often, but overseas it was difficult to walk around with his hair being all over the place. Americans seemed to accept his unruly hair a bit better.
At KaibaCorp he could wear it however he wanted. His hair had always a controversial subject when it came to work, despite the lack of guidelines for styling; it was the frequent subject of discussion both by his co-workers, underlings and clients alike. Especially handling his brother's press and media interactions, many wondered why he chose not to tame it for public display.
The answer was quite simple, in fact: he wore it in the style that he felt worked best for obtaining what he wanted. Sometimes that was a business agreement; other times, it was to distract a ditzy secretary, to be penciled in for a meeting with an otherwise occupied potential client; and finally, Mokuba just liked being looked at. He enjoyed being rather unorthodox. The public was something he'd grown up with. He soaked up all that attention and it was exhilarating.
But today's schedule didn't feature any meetings. There were no conferences, no negotiations. He didn't have to be in the office today, nor did he have to run any errands or meet with friends.
Today, his boyfriend was going to introduce him to a box of sex toys. What sort of scenario could he anticipate for that? The unanswered question stood before him: How should he wear his hair? Mokuba wondered if going out of his way to play up all of his charms could get him out of having the discussion in the first place.
The scenario itself wasn't surprising. He would never put it past Yami to have such a collection. From day one, the roughness that Yami required to get off had been a clear indication. The scratching and the biting - both of which Mokuba had been willing to do - were comparatively tame. Though there hadn't been any complaints, it seemed fairly obvious that Yami would want something more. It barely met his lover's requirements for enjoyable sex, he'd discovered later.
Mokuba had let the subject slide by unaddressed; Yami wanted to be injured, and that wasn't an easy thing to do.
What sort of toys would a man into that degree of violence own? Behemoths, he was sure, the sort of devices that were considered 'equipment' as opposed to a 'toy'. It wasn't as though he was innocent and clueless. But the idea of anyone having so many that a box would be necessary? It put him a little out of depth. On the other hand, Yami had approached him about this politely and respectfully. Mokuba owed it to his boyfriend to hear him out. What if Yami honestly just wanted to talk, or make a proposition? It was no secret that there were desires not being met in full. This could be an intervention, a forum for complaint. Mokuba had no clue how he was going to handle that, if that was the case.
A loud click sounded from a distance. Mokuba started, smashing his head against the mirror. "Fuck." He would have to wing it.
"Anyone here?" The voice was loud and gruff, echoing up the stairs. Whatever it was that Yami was carrying, it was heavy.
"Yeah!"
"Then why the fuck weren't you answering your phone? I called you five times. What is the point of the damned devices if people don't use them?"
Argh. His phone had betrayed him.
Mokuba retreated from his room to the den. Brown eyes found themselves locked not on Yami, but on the wooden chest he was carrying. A. Wooden. Chest.
In all honesty, it was not as bad as Mokuba had feared; larger than a keepsake box or a sewing kit, but it still fit snugly into Yami's arms. Mokuba sighed in relief in spite of himself. Still, it was a size that suggested a collection that was much more abundant than anything Mokuba could have ever seen as appropriate. Carrying that thing required both hands.
Yami smirked. "It's not even open yet." He smirked.
"I... wasn't expecting that."
"No, you weren't." Apparently, the shock and awe was something that his lover enjoyed. A grin quickly spread across thin lips, and even the brights of Yami's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Did you just get up? Your hair looks like shit."
Mokuba rolled his eyes and tried to keep from fidgeting as that satisfied gaze rolled across him. Well, so much for that avenue of appeal.
It took a few more minutes before Yami was settled in. The chest was placed on the kitchen table and Mokuba did his best to avoid looking directly at it. While Yami trekked back and forth, to use the shower and change out of his work uniform, he made sure to snicker in Mokuba's general direction every few moments. The reprieve only lasted so long, however, before the two of them were seated across from each other. Between them sat the chest, some great obstacle imposing its will.
Yami's expression was full of glee, like a child ready to open birthday presents. It was strange seeing him so animated. "You look nervous."
Completely at a loss in this situation, Mokuba decided to just be honest. "I am. You've been looking like a wolf on the prowl for a meal ever since you got here." Yami loved catching him off guard and he didn't want to feed into it.
"I'm just excited. I didn't think you'd ask to see them." His eyebrows knit, but he smiled nonetheless. "You've never asked before." The change was almost immediate. Yami's features sobered up and became less exaggerated, almost as though he were disappointed.
It was a new perspective for Mokuba. Fewer than five words and he felt like the shittiest boyfriend ever. Nearly a year together and he'd been so much of a coward that he had never bothered to discuss his lover's sexual interests. There was no getting around it: Yami was right. He had been avoiding the subject for his own comfort. Up to this point, Mokuba had never asked about his partner's needs and had shown very little interest in fulfilling them. When had he become such an asshole? To his credit, there had been little complaint concerning the matter - an excuse, he knew, but a reasonable one nonetheless.
Guilt helped cement his resolve. No more side glances. Being an asshole was Yami's job; he could keep it. He'd finally figured out the tone of the conversation, at least: beg for forgiveness for being a fucking dick to his boyfriend.
"Before I start pulling things out," Yami asked, "do you own anything you'd like to show me?"
Mokuba wasn't the sort to go to sex stores and the like; his face and name were too noticeable and, when he was in the states for college, the idea of Seto questioning him about such a purchase from the family accounts made his body break into spasms of dry heaving. He was no prude. Everyone in college had received a gag gift or two from a friend, but he didn't own anything noteworthy.
So he shook his head. "As I'm sure you guessed, I'm pretty vanilla. I've owned a dildo or two but got rid of them a long time ago. I'm not hiding anything." Feeling a bit self-conscious, he smiled nervously and added, "I've got no complaints. I just don't need anything else." Mokuba made sure to make and keep eye contact, and maintained it until Yami looked away.
Neither of them would acknowledge the blush on Yami's cheeks.
Old habits died hard, and Mokuba had always been and always would be a romantic. He liked intimacy, connecting with another person on a common level. That "level" didn't always have to be intellectual - hell, he and Yami got their start making out in this kitchen. They'd barely begun talking, and already Mokuba wanted to haul his lover onto the table and take him. Blush and all.
You're really bad at this.
"Alright." He tried to break the ice. The conversation starting off so calmly was very different from the norm. Yami was typically all passion and fire, rage and lust and extremes. "What's first?"
The box, as it turned out, was not quite as overflowing with items as he assumed. Yami apparently liked to keep his paraphernalia in pristine condition; every single item was housed in its original packaging. The few items that were without containers had been placed in velveteen pouches. It was impressive in a way that Mokuba hadn't expected. An organized library of sex toys was a foreign concept for him - even in the States, people were more concerned about keeping things hidden than they were keeping them neat.
"Smaller things first," Yami said slowly, though his movements betrayed him. In less than a minute, most of the contents of the box were already laid out on the table.
Quite a few of the items were things that Mokuba recognized on sight: handcuffs of various sorts - plastic, fuzzy, stainless steel; a few unused Rings in interesting shapes, two onaholes. There was an assortment of dildos, plugs, beads... and bottles of lube. Lots of them. What surprised him was the variety of colors: Pink, green, purple, orange, blue… there seemed to be no pickiness for personal style.
Well, I guess so long as it gets the job done… "Why do you have so many?" That was the part he didn't understand. They all did the same thing - why so many of them?
Scoffing, Yami's eyes rolled dramatically. "Different sizes, makes. Attachments. Some are just better or the material is more comfortable. Sometimes I upgrade but I keep the old stuff. Why throw something away if it works?"
Some of the blown glass items were very eye catching. "But I know what these are. Usual fair so far, it looks like." A part of him was proud to be able to say that nothing so far had shocked or scared him. Very often Yami would treat him as though he knew nothing about this sort of stuff, and Mokuba was glad to prove that notion wrong. Being uninterested didn't take away from his experiences.
There were a few others, however, that were intimidating as hell even though he recognized them; the anal plugs especially. A few of the sizes were, well, large. It was difficult suppressing a tingle at the thought of Yami fitting something with that kind of girth inside of him. Mokuba couldn't decide if he was disturbed or impressed, so he did not comment on them.
Instead, he asked, "You find time to use all of these?"
Yami chuckled. "It's not like I have a schedule to use them on rotation. Rather, I bought some of these for ...special occasions and kept them. It's better to have them for use than to keep buying them. Some are gifts, too. When I want to use them, I can." It sounded like there were quite a few interesting stories behind their acquisition. Maybe when Mokuba felt more comfortable, he'd eventually want to hear about them.
It occurred to him that he knew the individuals who had used these, and his stomach churned a little. He didn't want to touch anything that had even been near Marik's bare skin. Was that something that he should speak up about?
Ugh.
"I'm sure you're bored with these, though. I'll show you something more exciting."
As Yami rummaged into the half-emptied chest, Mokuba tried to make small talk. "So you're not going to go through everything?"
"No need for that. Most of it's flavored lube and other things. If you see something you're interested in, just ask."
Oh, good. "...sure."
The larger boxes delivered what they promised. The largest, taking up nearly the second half of the chest on its own, was a set up for a sex swing "for a chat request" that Yami had once completed. Mokuba never would have guessed he'd end up dating that sort of person. In the States, he'd had a pair of roommates who consistently streamed themselves having sex for money online. It was a very lucrative business, apparently.
Another few boxes revealed a few different types of rope for bondage play. One of them was a rough material that Mokuba would not feel comfortable with touching his skin; a simple glance told him that it would burn. There were at least five bundles of it at different lengths. "Are you telling me that you do shibari? Really?"
Shaking his head, Yami sighed. "Yuugi does. I haven't used these in years. He told me to keep them, though; doesn't want to freak Rebecca out."
Unsure what to make of it all, Mokuba kept quiet on that topic. He'd forgotten, actually. Yami and Yuugi had been involved in such a strange relationship - the more he heard about it, the more questions he had. But Yuugi was much more of a safe topic to broach so far as exes went. At least he liked Yuugi. Thinking of Marik and Yami together made him sick. He still hadn't gotten over the damage done all those years ago in Battle City, and wasn't sure if he ever would. It was disappointing just to know that that the two of them had been involved at all.
"...how many of these things did you use with Yuugi? All of them?" Yami had only been with one partner willing to accommodate this to such an extreme degree, and that was impressive. Domming was hard, Mokuba knew, and he could only assume that it was more difficult with Yami. He found it difficult to reconcile his childhood friend with the sort of person who could inflict that measure of pain on someone else, sexual context or not. How did Yuugi give off such a pleasant, upbeat vibe when he indulged in all of this behind closed doors?
Yami opened his mouth, then closed it, taking a moment to think. "...most of them."
Another dive into the chest again revealed a whip and a riding crop - still perfectly nestled into their original packaging. A small, black wooden paddle soon followed. An awkward chuckle was the only way that Mokuba could react. They were beginning to run out of room on the table.
When Yami's grin returned, he wasn't sure what to think. "This is what I really want to show you. It's really…" he paused for a moment. "...special. It's in the bottom. Just a moment."
As he cleared out the remainder of the chest's contents, something caught Mokuba's eye. "Wait - what's that?" The box was plain, white, unmarked and about the size of a coffee mug. And Mokuba needed a distraction, lest his mind wander to imagine what sort of thing his boyfriend could consider 'special'.
"Lotion candle. Boring." Yami answered without even looking at it, eager to get to the finale.
"No... what? A lotion candle?"
"Yeah. Warm it up and the wax becomes lotion. Since it's not wax it doesn't burn up; you could use it forever, goes back to being solid when it's cold. Good for massages, I guess." The hard look in Yami's eyes read: Don't get caught up in that. We were doing so well…
But Mokuba was a sucker for romance, and this seemed perfect. Finally, an item well suited to his tastes.
"Of course you'd ask about the least interesting thing," Yami whined.
Biting back a retort, he instead tried to be supportive. The lotion candle would, quite literally, always be there. "...what's the special thing, then?"
Standing, Yami leaned over the chest, digging with both hands. "Just a moment." There was some rustling as the mystery object was unwrapped.
Once it was removed from its packaging… Mokuba wasn't quite sure what it was.
The culmination of this excursion, the piece of equipment that Yami was most excited to present, was something that Mokuba couldn't name. In fact, it was the only thing in the chest that he hadn't recognized. Well played, perhaps, but even that surrender left in its wake the question of what the device actually was.
It was made completely of stainless steel. The metal looked almost like a set of ribbons, winding about each other. A set of strategically placed hinges held the piece together. The hinges were connected by some interesting looking screws, emblazoned with the letter 's' at the top of each one. If nothing else the device had been custom-made, whatever it was. He had never seen anything even remotely similar, like some work of art. Mokuba had no knowledge of a mechanical press that could mold a metal so seamlessly.
Whoever made this needs to come work for KaibaCorp.
An awkward chuckle was the sound his white flag made. "I give up," Mokuba conceded. "I have no idea what that thing is." Though he wouldn't admit it, he was a little afraid of what it was supposed to be used for.
Attached to some of the hinges were opened rings, more than accommodating for fingers to fit through. What if he wants me to hit him with that? It was out of the question. Stainless steel would cause more than bruising or bleeding - it could break bone, if he applied enough force, and that wasn't something Mokuba was willing to do. How could he get that across without seeming like a douchebag?
"Ah... Yami..." The discomfort wasn't something that he could help, after all. Those violent interests had pushed him to his limit. "I don't think that's something I can do."
Mokuba wasn't prepared to meet with Yami's crestfallen expression. It wasn't just a frown. Those eyes which had been so excited up to this point seemed to dim almost instantaneously. Yami's body curved inward, almost as though to try to hide. Knuckles gripped the steel accessory as though it had threatened to melt.
"...I thought you might say something like that." He sounded as disappointed as he looked. "Well, regardless... I thought..." Yami turned away again, rummaging through the contents on the table some more. "Even if this isn't ...your thing, I wanted to give this to you."
What he presented to Mokuba was a small velvet box, square and black, barely noticeable amongst the others between them. Where had that come from? Between the anal plugs and one of the boxes of shibari rope, apparently.
Yami wasted no time opening it; there was a necklace inside. It was shaped like an arrow's head; a black, steel 'V' pointed downward with a straight, rigid centerpiece affixed via a thin horizontal bar at the top. This confused him more than anything else he'd seen (including the strange device). The only piece of jewelry Yami had ever worn was the Puzzle.
Mokuba noticed that his lover seemed almost afraid to touch the necklace, despite doing just that. Cautious fingers only came in contact with the chain, wrist flicking sporadically whenever in danger of grazing the charm itself. Yami's face was deathly serious. When Mokuba grasped the necklace, there was a sigh of relief from his partner, as though some weight had been removed.
"I've been holding onto it for months. It's just wrong." Yami shivered as he relinquished the jewelry, although it'd had some sort of hold over him.
Mokuba was completely lost, and certainly had no clue as to what he was holding or what it was used for. "What? Yami, I don't get it. Why do you want me to have this? What does it mean?" Items like the Puzzle tended not to bode well for people like him, and the way Yami spoke of it worried him. Of course, he didn't think that Yami would hand him anything dangerous or life threatening, but Mokuba was admittedly short on knowledge of the Egyptian variety and therefore needed to be careful.
Another sigh echoed between them, and Yami sat down again. "It's... a key."
That was all he needed to know. Mokuba's hands fiddled with the thing until he figured it out: the bar holding the centerpiece allowed it to pivot around. When not locked into the arrow shape, it revealed a protruding 's' that was raised above the slender cylinder.
Ah. The screws. "What do they do? Adjust the size of it?" Those rings on the device had looked much larger than necessary for fingers, but wasn't large enough for a hand or wrist.
Yami raised an eyebrow. "No. It's custom-fitted. It doesn't need to be adjusted."
It was obvious to Mokuba that they were talking about separate things. There was a disconnect somewhere. Brown eyes settled on the equipment in Yami's hands and he tried to work out what he was missing. What sort of screws required locks? There were pieces hanging off on their own, and Mokuba knew it hadn't been assembled completely. It was hard to tell what the thing was supposed to look like when it was put together. The necklace in his hands was clearly the only thing that could loosen or tighten them.
"...why are the screws lockable? What it is supposed to look like?" Regardless of what it was used for, it was beautifully formed. The skill require to craft it couldn't be denied. It wouldn't hurt to see what it looked like in use, after all.
Trying to keep Yami's disappointment away from his thoughts, Mokuba tried to look at the situation objectively: he indulged in things that he didn't necessarily approve of already. Yami liked it really rough; he liked having scars and went crazy over seeing himself bleed. Pain aroused him, and that was difficult for Mokuba to accommodate. Biting and scratching hard enough to break skin had taken practice on his part. There was always a strange tugging at the pit of his stomach when he felt the blood, even a trace amount, on his fingertips. It was more often than not a libido-killer for him. On this other hand, maybe this wasn't as far a stretch from what they were already doing.
Sometimes Mokuba thought that Yami would die a happy man if it were possible to be strangled in his sleep. The idea of it was terrifying.
In the meantime, Yami was fiddling with his pants. That sight alone was enough to garner Mokuba's attention. Here? Now? There was absolutely no chance of that. He wasn't even in the mood, at this point. Sex was the last thing on his to-do list.
"What are you doing?" He tried to look more annoyed than shocked - it was Yami that he was dealing with; they could be in a crowded room full of children and sex would still be considered an option.
"You said you wanted to see how it looked, didn't you?"
The pieces were coming together quickly enough. Mokuba was still missing something. "Shit. ...Yami. What - what is that thing? What am I holding the key to?"
Finally realizing his partner's lack of knowledge, Yami had the grace to blush, his hands coming to a halt at his belt. "Ah, I'm sorry." he hesitated. "...It's a…"
A nervous laugh escaped him. Things could not have been more awkward. "You're already pulling off your pants; might as well spit it out."
"It's a cage." That sounded much worse than what he'd been thinking. "A chastity cage", Yami elaborated.
That revelation was followed by the strangest moment shared between them yet: at least one of them had removed their pants, but for educational purposes only.
Indeed, the device looked like a cage when he put it on; three rings fit like bars around his shaft, and there was another positioned just at the base for his balls to fit through. With ease, the steel slid over Yami's skin, reflecting the light from the lamp overhead. The way it fit just looked so exotic; it really did look like a cage. Even Mokuba had to admit that seeing his boyfriend locked in such a work of art was kind of a turn on - at least, if paid more attention to the device than what was in it.
The 'key' was actually a screwdriver. Those screws weren't engraved for the design; it was the actual shape used to secure them, Yami explained. A second set of screws protruded higher than the rest, clearly intended to press through the device to sit against the wearer's skin. They'd been loosened enough to get the device on, but only barely. From the moment Yami slipped inside of it, the change in demeanor was obvious. Shoulders loosened and body relaxed, comfortable even though holding the contraption was necessary to keep it on.
He's used to wearing it, Mokuba realized.
"Here." Holding out the chain, Mokuba tingled with anticipation. It would be interesting to see what it looked like when complete. What does it feel like? Not that he would ever want to try it.
Yami shook his head. "..." He averted his eyes.
Mokuba recalled how Yami had avoided touching the key with his hands, and how relieved he had been to see it pass out of his possession. "You didn't give me a cursed key or something, didn't you?" The statement was followed with a laugh, to break the building tension. "Seriously... what's wrong with it?" He resisted the temptation to press it to Yami's hands himself, just to see what the reaction should be.
"...I'm not..."
Only once before had Yami been so timid, and it had been when he was upset, bordering on cracking under stress. Now he seemed just as somber, biting his lips and hesitating in his speech. It was an unsettling sight. Yami was normally vicious and defiant, in spite of the treatment he sought in bed; he fought back. Mokuba never knew what to do with him in this state.
"I'm not allowed to touch it." Yami's cheeks were burning red, and when he next spoke, the words were nearly unintelligible. "Only the... Master can..." Then his jaw was clenched, and he refused to say anything else.
The 'key' suddenly felt weighty in his palm. He was in way over his head. A Master, him? Let alone—
Oh, shit. "No, no no no no. I can't."
It was just the same as when Yami had told him his name, the one from the past. That was such an asshole move, to push something with such importance into Mokuba's lap and expect an instantaneous decision. What did a title like that even entail? Likely the sort of cruelty that Mokuba wasn't capable of. He realized that, playfully, the title didn't have to be so daunting. But Yami wasn't playing. This wasn't single night's role-play - this wasn't Mokuba taking charge because his partner liked it. That key, and everything that came with it, was constant. There were expectations.
Yami took a breath and closed his eyes; he looked pained, and it showed - no erection, no sign of arousal at all. Maybe he was embarrassed?
You're killing me, Yami. How on earth did Yuugi put up with all of this? "...he did this for you?"
The nod he received in response was enough. "I'm not cut out for this. I can't - I can't hurt you the way you want..." Oddly enough, Mokuba felt that he had the least amount of power here. Never before had sex felt like such a large responsibility.
This time, Yami's head shook in response. "It's not about that. It's the control. I need..." There was another sharp intake of breath. "I need you to do this."
So long as they were going to put their feelings out on the table, Mokuba would do the same. This whole situation was uncomfortable. "I feel like you're using me. You wanted to push me into this, didn't you?" Even if it made him the asshole, unsupportive or whatever, he felt duped. Nothing about this conversation seemed fair.
Yami's voice wavered. "No. I... I didn't think that I would ask. I was going to wait. I thought that showing you would be enough."
"And surprise, surprise, it isn't." Now that they were exchanging words and the quiet was melting away, Mokuba felt more annoyed than anything. He had been patient, and he had been silent in the face of discomfort. Being asked to do this, from his perspective, required a bit of unloading. He was a Kaiba, after all - and his patience had met its end.
"I have needs, too, you know. This whole time, I felt like a piece of shit for avoiding this - we've never had time to address this, and now that I've seen everything, I don't regret it one bit. It takes effort for me to do this. I don't just go around busting people's balls for a living. I fucking try. What do you do?" Even if it wasn't the same, Mokuba knew that he was right.
Yami avoided anything romantic at every turn. He disrupted intimate moments, was rude and insensitive. The two of them couldn't even talk about lotion candles without him erupting into a fit about how 'boring' it was. Mokuba was comfortable being boring. His partner was going to have to be, too, if this was going to work between them.
A few moments of silence passed before he realized that Yami didn't plan to respond at all.
"...and nothing. Again, not surprising. I don't require all of this." He gestured at the table. "Yeah, I'm a romantic, and you're not into that. But I'm not into all of this shit and I do it anyway. Where the fuck is your key? I wasn't really trying to fight over this because it's just sex but goddamn it, Yami, it's about time for some equal exchange around this motherfucker."
Now he felt like a parent. Great.
Yami nodded his acknowledgment. "You're right."
Rolling his eyes, Mokuba snapped, "You better not be agreeing just because I have this." He waved the key around. "I'm not that high maintenance. Just pretend you care - you don't even have to mean it." It was little hard not to look at the cage itself, knowing that it was there, but he resisted.
Violet eyes still avoided making eye contact with the key in Mokuba's hands, but they fell on his face instead. "No. That's not good enough." Yami sounded a little too compliant, but Mokuba did his best to ignore it. He wanted to believe that his lover was being genuine. "I do appreciate what you've done for me."
This had, by anyone's standards, been quite a bit. Indenturing himself to his brother's servitude for two years was nothing to scoff at. Mokuba hated working at KaibaCorp, but a favor was owed and he would repay it. Even now, he had no clue what his brother had gone through to obtain the paperwork for Yami's citizenry. He couldn't imagine that any righteous individuals would have helped the CEO on a whim. As his brother had so eloquently put it, long ago, "If I'm in debt, Mokuba, you're in debt. Two years at the company you'll inherit isn't a punishment. Grow up."
Fortunately, he had.
Mokuba was tempted to demand apologies for a few other things as well. "It's not hard, Yami. A small compliment, a kiss - when was the last time we kissed each other? The last time we had sex, I'm sure. Kisses aren't a sex-exclusive thing, if you didn't know."
Yami cleared his throat. "Noted."
"And it would be nice to not hear complaints when I ask you to go out to dinner with me. We only do it once a month, if even - I'm not asking you to run a damned marathon."
You sound like a woman, he chided himself. But he gave himself a pass for this occasion; after all, Mokuba had never thought he'd be in a relationship where these things were a problem in the first place. Who the fuck didn't like going out to dinner?
"Alright." Yami's calm demeanor was unnerving at this point. Mokuba felt like he was holding his boyfriend hostage.
His demands had been agreed to, so he had to deliver on his end. "I still don't think I can do everything you're asking for, but I'll... I'll try." Mokuba just wanted this conversation to get back to normal. He hadn't been lying; he wasn't cut out for this stuff. Sex wasn't supposed to feel like a chore.
"That's all that I can hope for."
So it was over, just like that? Mokuba could still feel the bubbling frustration, but there was no point in bitching if his demands were going to be met.
"I don't know how this works, Yami. Is this an all the time thing, or...?" He'd never understood that about those sorts of relationships. There was a very big difference between living that way, and limiting his authority to specific situations. A lifestyle change was not something that he could deal with.
The response was cool and collected. "I can… I can wear this as long as you'd like me to."
My God, does he always have a one-track mind? "No, idiot. This." Mokuba held up the necklace.
Yami fidgeted. "...as often as you want. Or—I suppose, when I ask." He crossed his arms. "I can't touch it. It's not mine to touch." Averting his eyes again, he sucked in a breath. "...I've been... punished severely for touching it before. I'll leave it at that."
"...that would make Yuugi one sick motherfucker." A part of him was worried about being able to reference his lover's ex so casually, but considering the present situation it seemed the least of his worries. It wasn't as though there were too many hard feelings between the three of them. With that said, Mokuba had a feeling that it would be difficult to look Yuugi in the eye when this was all said and done.
For just a split second, a small smirk flicked on Yami's face. "It would."
"...what did he do?"
"I can't talk about that. I've promised."
Well, that made it seem like Mokuba had ended up with the shitty end of the stick. "...so he doesn't have this anymore," he held up the key again, "but you still have to listen to him?"
There was no hesitation in Yami's answer. "This is different. He had the key when he gave me that order."
It's time for Master and Slave 101, I guess. "So what if I order you to tell me instead? How does that work?" Rather than being cocky, he was actually unsure of how Yami would handle that. Mokuba still had little to no idea how things worked, really.
"Then I'd have to take whatever... ah...I deserve for disobeying an order. I can't tell you. You should ask him, if you're curious. I'm not that much of an asshole. As fucked up as we may be - at least from your perspective - our agreement is still as valid in hindsight. There's no reason for me to break it."
"And the same goes for me? If I order you to never speak to anyone about something, you'll do it?"
"To the grave, as they say."
There was another question on his mind. "So... um... do you have to call me that?" He didn't even want to say it. The title was difficult to utter, even casually, now that Mokuba knew how serious Yami was about it.
A few moments of silence passed before there was an answer. "If you tell me to, I'll call you whatever you want."
Mokuba found that hard to believe, but the whine in Yami's voice was a little convincing. He wasn't ready for that just yet. "Right. Sure. Okay. And... This thing..." As good of a job as they'd been doing, it would have been strange for the two of them to ignore the cage (and what was being locked in it) for much longer. "...are you supposed to wear it all the time? Is that something you like, or...? I mean, what is the point of it, exactly, other than looking really uncomfortable? Is that the point?"
Yami looked a bit exasperated when he sighed this time around. "I can't..." he looked away from Mokuba. "Do I really have to explain this?"
"If you want me to be able to use it, yeah. I've never seen this thing before, and to be honest it looks like something out of a horror film to me. Don't be fucking embarrassed by something you like this much." Beautiful design, but terrifying.
"There are a lot of attachments, so… I can't come while I'm wearing this. And the screws..." Rolling his shoulders, Yami closed his eyes. "Do you think you could tighten them, just for a few minutes?"
I can't believe he likes this… Nothing else needed to be said, and Mokuba wasted no time in putting his 'key' to use. "This looks dangerous, so I'll be gentle."
Yami kept his eyes shut, his breaths becoming shallower as Mokuba approached; it sounded as though he was holding back a moan when he replied, "Don't be." They hadn't even made physical contact, yet. "I'll tell you when they're tight enough."
Feeling a bit awkward, Mokuba thought he'd crack a joke. "I thought I could make them as tight as I want." The snappy declaration was followed by a small chuckle.
Sighing, Yami answered. "Feel free to ignore my advice at your discretion." Though his voice had an edge to it the tones were still soft, yielding overall.
The key's end slid into the first screw effortlessly, and Mokuba found that it only took a few turns for the hinges to be completely in place. All of the 's' screws, he noticed, were strategically placed so that the piece became more rigid and restrictive as they locked into place. Not a bit of this cage was moving on its own.
The longer screws circled the inside of each ring down the shaft and pressed into Yami's soft flesh. They required a different screwdriver to shift them up or down. Mokuba realized that they were already set to preference and cringed as he imagined how it must have felt. Pants and whimpers echoed in the kitchen, becoming more prominent with each twist, each press. After a while, it was overwhelming; it couldn't have possibly felt that good to have your cock locked up.
"Shut up, Yami. I don't even have the damned thing on yet." He would work on the others, carefully, while probing Yami for more answers. "What does it even feel like?"
"...it's painful." The answer was simple, served up with a strained smirk.
Mokuba didn't think that he would get anything more specific out of him, so he moved to a different subject. "What's the longest amount of time you've worn this without taking it off?"
Yami paused for a moment to catch his breath.. "...almost three weeks, I think."
Mouth gaping open in surprise, Mokuba paused in his work. "Are you serious? That's fucking unhealthy. You could have passed out, or worse. You can't even move in this thing. How do you even use the bathroom?" That had to be a lie. It couldn't have been possible.
The chuckle Yami let loose belied his reply. "Without the blocker attachment, if we're discussing…" He stopped to let loose a breathy pant. "...technicalities. Otherwise awkwardly, and in stalls. I felt like I was dying." Only he would consider that a fond memory. "But I deserved it. I was being punished."
Mokuba made a note to ask him about the attachments later. He was curious about how this device could become more tortuous than it already was. What else could they even add to this thing? "What did you do? Or are you not allowed to talk about that, either?" It was still daunting to know how loyal Yami was to the cause of keeping secrets - or, rather, following orders. That he'd rather face further consequences than disobey said a lot. Would it even be a punishment, he wondered, if Yami liked being punished in the first place?
At least I can trust him to keep his mouth shut I guess.
"This is fine; I'm unsure if you'd be comfortable with the information, though. You seem to have an aversion to hearing about Yuugi and I."
Mokuba bristled. It wasn't so much an aversion as it was respect for what had happened between them. "I can't pry that much. It just feels wrong, even if you're both okay with telling me. I wouldn't want someone to know that much about me, so..."
"I see. I can't imagine that would be good for your public image."
He hadn't even thought of that. What would it look like, after all, if someone captured a picture of this very moment? It made him feel justified in his brother's paranoia about exactly where and how he appeared.
I do not want to be thinking about him right now. But he would need to address that issue at some point. What if someone found out, not only about Yami, but what they (at least currently) were engaged in? The media would be all over it, labeling him a pervert and denouncing the Kaiba brothers as role models... it merited some thought.
Around the fourth and fifth screws, Yami began to tremble.
"I'll never understand this," Mokuba muttered.
There were six of the 's' screws in all. When the final one was locked in Yami fought against the cage itself, skin flushed, his erection engorged. He was hissing and fidgeting despite himself. The longer screws, which had dulled ends, pressed around the circumference of his glans on the ring closest to the tip, protruding out from the cage. Those situated on the other two rings further up the shaft did not look any more comfortable. Yami's skin was red with the pressure of the device exerted.
Mokuba found it hard to look. Seeing the muscles throb and hearing each strained grunt put him on pins and needles. No matter how aroused, there was no escaping the shape of that steel. "I think you should take it off. You don't look too good." Skin wasn't meant to be that flushed, he was sure. Maybe he could loosen the longer screws by a twist or two.
Rolling his shoulders again, Yami's words seemed to slur. "It's perfect."
"You can't even sit down." Wrapping his mind around this fetish was proving impossible.
"I... I just..." Gritting his teeth, Yami clutched the table corner until his knuckles paled. "Give me a little time."
It was ...pitiful, in a way, to see him so happy in such constraints. This is what he wanted me to see. It's 'special', alright… Unable to keep watching any longer, Mokuba rose from his seat and began packing up the items on the table. He left the key out on the wooden surface. If he'd learned nothing else this evening, it was that Yami would rather die than touch it. A few minutes were all that he'd been asked for, so it would have to be enough.
He learned much more while packing the items up than he had while Yami was rushing to get to the cage. Several of them were useful accessories and cleaning tools. There was a shocking variety of lubes and enhancers; no excuse at all for why their foreplay was so boring.
"I'm going to take some of these, if you don't mind. Put them in the nightstand drawer for later."
Yami was doubled over the table, panting. "I'm going to take that as a 'yes'." He especially made sure to nab the candle lotion. The steel cuffs, too, made it into reserve-for-later pile.
A long, flat box caught his eye. Yami hadn't mentioned it or otherwise categorized it. It was white and made from a vinyl material. Was it an upscale jewelry box? Curiosity getting the better of him, Mokuba shook it - and the contents gave off a dull rattle. Glancing over at Yami, he didn't think he'd get answers to any questions any time soon. So, he opened it.
Inside was a thick leather collar adorned with three thick rings. Some things I don't need to know about, he told himself, and closed it again. With his luck, there'd be something weird inscribed on the inside of it. He was plenty freaked out already. In the chest it went with the rest of the things.
It wasn't until Mokuba had finished that he began to appreciate how neatly Yami had organized everything. Storing had been such a simple process. If he remembered correctly, Yami often cleaned the house while he was away, too. His apartment was always in much better shape when Yami was over. Left to his own devices for too long, Mokuba's place began to look more like a bachelor's pad.
Soon enough, Yami seemed to have himself under control. He managed to stand and put his pants back on, and it occurred to Mokuba that without being asked to take that thing off, he wouldn't.
"You don't have to wear that, you know." There was a lot that he would have to figure out. But some progress had been made in some way, he supposed, so the exchange would be worthwhile. At least, he wanted it to be.
"Well—" Yami paused in his movements. "Are you telling me to take it off?"
Ah, right. They were dealing in orders, absolutes. Mokuba couldn't ask. The decision making was all his responsibility.
"So... what happens if there's an emergency and you have to take it off? Do I forgive you for that, or do I come up with some sort of 'punishment' or...?" That was a whole other animal. From his point of view, just being in the cage was already a pretty good one. Again, the question rose to the top of his thoughts: How could he punish a person who enjoyed it?
"I can't. It can't be unlocked without the key."
That sounded extreme. "By anything? You don't have a copy or anything? Dammit - what if you get in a car accident or something and I'm not there? That's ridiculous." He refused to believe it. "There's really no trick to unscrewing it? You can't slip out of it at all?"
"It's custom-fitted to my measurements. Wouldn't be much of a cage if I could."
The long, protruding screws would probably rip him to shreds, and the 's' screws would have to be melted off, probably. Mokuba shivered at the thought. Never, he told himself. He'd never wear anything like that.
"...if it helps you feel better - for practical purposes, I could probably get out of it in an absolute emergency. I have enough practice." As though he could read Mokuba's thoughts, he added, "But this design is one that I personally picked out. It'd be difficult."
"I bet," Mokuba scoffed.
"My point being that if this one displeases you, we could pick out another one. One that's less... unsettling, I suppose, for you to look at."
Something about the way Yami had said, 'displease' was hot as hell - the dangerous edge of that velvety voice coupled with such a submissive phrase. He ignored the urge to tongue his boyfriend down atop the table; Mokuba didn't want Yami leaving this room thinking that he was okay with any of this. He was merely willing to accommodate it.
I am not going to get sucked into this. "I think I can go without adding anything to your collection. You can keep that one." Mokuba's face grew hot, and he knew that looked just as flustered as he felt. "Hurry up and take it off."
Yami simply stood there impatiently, folding his arms. "I knew you were going to say that."
Catching himself, Mokuba realized that he would have to be the one to remove it. He sighed. "This can't be something we do often." It would be too much work, at the very least.
Yami chuckled. "I'll try to keep on your good side, then."
Apparently, his frustration was amusing. But there was more than one way to fix that. "Give me a kiss." This seemed to be the first step in both of them getting what they'd asked for.
The scowl on Yami's face belied his attitude towards the command, but he moved forward without hesitation. Lips pressed softly against Mokuba's cheek, and they lingered for a few seconds pulling away.
Mokuba couldn't help it; he cackled. "I could get used to this."
Yami downright frowned. "I regret asking already."
"Too late." And to drive that point home, he added, "But I'd like to remind you that you didn't really ask. You kind of begged me." If nothing else, being in the position to more easily throw Yami's smart quips back at him was a little exhilarating. There was no denial and no protest.
Removing the cage was a lot more comfortable than putting it on. There was less noise this time around. While Mokuba was tempted to take advantage of a nearly naked and aroused Yami, he managed not to. Instead he tried to focus on the contours of the device itself, the flawlessness in the formation of the device. It really was something. One day he'd have to ask Yami to borrow it, if that was at all possible.
"So, I have a question," Mokuba declared between loosening the third and fourth 's' screws.
"Alright."
"What's with the collar in the box? You didn't show that to me."
Yami almost leaned back, and Mokuba had to steady him. "Ah. It was a gift from Yuugi."
Did something like that count as a gift? He supposed it could in Yami's case, but it was a difficult thing to classify. Usually, wearing a gift was voluntary. "So were you embarrassed about it? Or is it something that I wasn't supposed to see?"
That would be a silly notion, considering the cage and all. "I just… I didn't think you'd enjoy seeing that." Mokuba felt his lover suppress a small shudder as he moved onto the next hinge.
It made sense to Mokuba to keep many of the other things he'd been shown, but for something like a collar that symbolized that kind of authority… he found it unsettling. "Now that you're not together, is that something that Yuugi would want back? Do you want to keep it?"
"It's a nice collar so I kept it, if that's what you're asking." When Yami sighed, it was full of sadness. "Yuugi doesn't want any of those things back…"
The fact of the matter was that Mokuba had spoken to the both of them and knew as much as he possibly could about the connection that they shared. With the exception of what Yami had shown him today, he had already been concerned about how things would proceed between the two of them. After all, Yami had said himself that resisting the pull of their mental link could sometimes be difficult, especially when they were both under emotional duress. Mokuba doubted that either of them would do anything to make him feel betrayed or hurt, but there was still a fine line to be maintained. He couldn't imagine that it would be easy for Yami to disassociate all these activities from his memories of Yuugi.
If Yami had said that he wasn't thinking of Yuugi while stuck inside of that cage, Mokuba would have declared him a liar.
"I think you should—" Catching himself, he paused in his work on the very last hinge. "I don't want you to keep it. Throw it away." It'll be a test, I guess. So he tried to sound a little more firm as he continued. "When I'm done with this I want you to put that in the garbage and leave it there."
Yami seemed startled; his posture became rigid. "Uh, yes…" It was obvious that he wasn't sure what to add to the end.
But Mokuba didn't want to be called the M-word. "Just Mokuba is fine, I guess." Getting into the dominant headspace would be a challenge for him, at the very least. It would take actual forethought.
"Yes, Mokuba." There was a little hesitation in his voice, but it was comforting to know that this was a little weird for the both of them.
True to his word, when the cage had been removed Yami searched through the chest for the box in question and took it to the trash. He hovered there for the briefest of seconds.
"W-wait," Mokuba called. Maybe it meant a lot but Yami didn't want to admit it? He didn't want to do more harm than good. Oh, god, I dunno…
Those violet eyes seemed to search for something in his expression. "You told me to throw it away."
"Well, I don't want you to toss something away that's important to you just because I asked—"
"—told," Yami corrected. "Ordered."
He didn't know what to do. "...if you really want to keep it…"
Yami glanced around for a moment, looking at nothing in particular before he said, "You should be more firm. Am I throwing it away, or not?"
It just wasn't healthy to have that degree of control over someone, from his perspective. "Just… wait." With everything else packed up into the chest, there was enough space for Mokuba to sit. He needed to think. Did it really make sense to have Yami throw the collar away, or was he just using his newly given authority as an excuse? Being able to give the instruction didn't necessarily mean that he should, and drawing that line was difficult for him. As a Kaiba, being in charge was something that he was used to. On the other hand, this wasn't leadership - it was control.
There was rustling in front of him, and a small peek revealed that Yami was dressing himself.
"You're thinking about this too hard," he was told. A chair scraped next to him and Yami plunked down in it. The white box sat between them, next to the key. "Look, I know that you're doing this for me, and it's not… ah, easy for you. For some people it comes more easily to others."
That wasn't the main concern, however. "So what if I tell you to do something and it's the wrong thing?" Regardless of what he was being asked to do, there was still the capacity to hurt feelings and step on one another's toes.
Dark brows knitted for a moment, and silence prevailed for a few seconds. Then Yami smiled. "Is that what your panties are all up in a bunch about? Making a mistake?" Deep, raucous laughter tumbled from his lips. "How about this: What if we pick out a safeword, okay? Would that help you feel better?" Much to Mokuba's surprise, Yami rested a hand on his left shoulder. Not only was it comforting, but something that had never been done before.
It was a little encouraging. "Sure," he answered.
"I still think you're thinking about this more than you need to." Yami leaned in close, making sure that their eyes met. "I don't think you have to worry about making me do something I don't want to. How do I explain this? Ah… following instructions is something I like to do. I think that's the best way to put it."
Mokuba tried his best to relax, but his thoughts just couldn't seem to right themselves. He mulled over the moments they'd shared together. Yami had always been a fan of violence - he was totally a masochist - but that didn't make him any less of a challenge. The two of them frequently fought for dominance in bed, and Yami appeared to take those losses personally. "So ...have you just been miserable this whole time? You've been very aggressive for someone who likes this sort of thing."
Yami pressed closer until their foreheads were touching. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"
It was difficult for Mokuba not to blush. "Say what?" His voice was much softer; he was melting into the intimacy of these precious seconds. They'd never interacted quite like that before.
"I don't obey people I don't respect." Backing away, Yami sat upright in his chair. "Or trust."
Mokuba mourned the loss of his lover's body heat. His requests had been taken to heart, it seemed. But he didn't want to come off as needy, especially after chewing Yami out about the same thing. There would be a time and a place. "This is just weird." He shook his head.
"As you said earlier: it's not something that we have to do all the time. You have the key at this point. It's completely your choice."
"Right. So I'd be the asshole not cooperating, then."
"Mokuba." This time Yami's frown made him feel guilty. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't really, really, really want this. But I can live without it, I think. We've gotten along so far."
There was no way that, after seeing that look of ecstasy on Yami's face, Mokuba was going to completely give up on the idea without trying it out. After all, Yami writhing with his head pressed against the kitchen table was a memory Mokuba would be keeping handy for a long time.
"I need it." Obviously, what Yami was saying wasn't true. And, deep down, there was a part of him that didn't want to 'lose' to Yuugi. Apparently, Yami's ex had been able to fulfill a variety of desires and he wanted to be just as impressive. It was still hard to picture Yuugi in that role.
So you need to get your shit together so that you can do this.
Running his hands through his hair, Mokuba resigned himself to his own word. "You promise you're going to try to be more romantic for me?" That had been the agreement after all. They'd both do a little more for each other.
"Well if I do it now, it'll seem forced. But yes, I promise - to try at least."
"No more unnecessary secrets, either. I can't handle another bomb like this one. You're going to give me a heart attack."
"I think you've done a good job of pulling the truth out of me on your own, but I'll do my best."
"So is there anything else I need to know? You got a kid floating out there somewhere?"
Yami laughed. "Very funny, but no." Pale hands reached for the white box on the table. "Do you know what you want me to do with this?" He shook it, the leather and metal rattling inside.
Mokuba was still on the fence with that one. His complex with Yuugi was something to be concerned about, even if only for his own sake. That being said, there were just as many good reasons for keeping it as tossing it. "Keep it, I guess. For now, anyway. We'll talk about it later."
"Okay."
It was almost too easy. "And stop doing that."
"What did I do?"
"You're being too agreeable. You haven't protested a single thing I've said this entire conversation. It's weird."
A dark eyebrow rose to question his statement. "You're upset because I'm not being an asshole?"
Exactly. "Yes. Basically."
Yami scowled. "What can I say? I've been taught that sometimes, if I behave, I can get what I want."
A vision depicting a few of the ways Yuugi may have taught Yami that lesson was almost too much to bear. "Sometimes." In response, Yami's face flushed red. Mokuba didn't want to find it cute, but couldn't help it. Gesturing towards the chest, he shooed it away along with his perverted thoughts. "Take that and put it somewhere out of sight. We'll talk more soon and I'll pick out a safeword then."
Without another word, Yami did as he was bid, lifting the chest in both hands and beginning to vacate the kitchen. Mokuba felt exhausted after this single conversation. He'd probably take a nap.
But maybe…
Summoning what small amount of bravado he had left, he called, "...I didn't hear you answer me." Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, he put as much edge as he could into his voice.
He couldn't see it, but he heard Yami's step suddenly come to a halt. "What?"
Was that Yami being cocky? Or had he just not heard Mokuba at all? It doesn't matter. "You know how you're supposed to address me."
There was a small pause, and Mokuba wasn't sure if he'd come on too strong, too soon. Either way, he wanted Yami to know that he was really going to make an effort to do this. Kaibas didn't half ass anything.
"Yes Ma—" Yami stopped himself, and began again. "Yes, Mokuba."
{FIN}
Firstly I'd like to thank a friend of mine, Shar, who titled this piece for me.
Secondly, I hope you enjoyed this fic.