Mokuba was leaning over the counter while the monotonous music boomed through his body.
He felt every beat of it pulsing in his veins, spurring him on, driving him onward.
-Don't stop-keep going-press on-never ever stop-just keep moving-
His heart skipped another beat as he was gasping for air.
No, he was definitely too tired to keep on dancing. And yet he felt his energy draining away as he tried to regain what was closest to his composure and catch his breath.

Inside his chest his heart pounded mercilessly, making it almost impossible for him to stay focused as the pulsing movement overlay his vision.
The music never stops.
His world is ablaze with light, a colourful light that crowds out the darkness in his heart.

This was it. His first night out.
Mokuba smiled mildly while unsteadily reaching for the glass in front of him.
Correction: His first night out alone, without any chaperone to watch over him or keep him away from excitement.
He'd been allowed to dance the night away or partying all night long IF, and that was Seto's crooked way of stealing his joy while at the same time trying to persuade him that he knew what was best for his little brother, he was accompanied by a supervisor of his choice.
Rarely his big brother had allowed him to be out and about with Yugi and his friends. And truth be told Mokuba had only joined their little group because he knew that Seto disapproved of them and knowing that Mokuba chose their company willingly was really pissing him off.

But tonight he was on his own.
Seto was abroad on a business trip, a trip Mokuba had booked and organised, secretly wishing that he could finally do as he pleased.
It wasn't that Seto took not stock in alcohol, especially unhealthily large amounts of alcohol.
He just found Mokuba's age-related fascination for it unacceptable.

Mokuba didn't know whether his drinks had been spiked or if the lack of oxygen was simply trying to reinforce its grip on his body; either way his body was light as a feather. His mind was no longer wandering, no longer giving in to the unbearable pressure of everyday life. No longer holding on to the dictate of good behaviour, the constant oppression inside of him, burned into his every thought and drilled into his soul.
Oh, Seto had been so wrong about him. He wasn't cut out for this reserved diplomacy and fake self-effacement, the madness of never speaking your mind and just obediently agreeing with whatever lunatic was currently interested in spending money on his brother's company. He just couldn't bear it.
Unlike Seto, of course; Seto was destined to live a life of conniving courteousness.
But no more of it.
His mind was as blank as the look in his eyes as he left the smoke-filled club and stared up into the drizzling rain. But his mind was oblivion, freed from sorrow and despair.
He was free. He was free to do as he pleased.
He'd never felt so alive before.

Mokuba staggered along the wet alleys, his eyes drawn by the flashing colours of the clubs' and bars' signs, mirrored in the puddles on the wet street.
Every splash, every drop of rain distorting the picture, causing the image to explode into a shower of light.
And yet as he stared up into the dark sky, the rain bedabbling his skin and washing away his pent-up hatred and frustration, he felt happier than ever before.

He sighed while resting his back against a crumbling wall held together with torn posters.
The rain had cooled down his mind as well as his skin and even though he was soaked Mokuba was more than pleased to find that the stench of cigarettes and spilt drinks slowly washed off. Yet he didn't like the greasy feeling of his long hair slowly imbibing the water.
And feeling high as fuck he knew that he looked like shit.
But it felt right.

"Still waiting to get lucky?"

Mokuba turned, noticing the rather tall figure beside him. He stared at the hand that settled firmly on his shoulder. Away from the flashing lights of amusement it was too dark to even take a glimpse of the stranger's eyes. Strangely enough Mokuba felt his burning gaze
Years of living in a golden cage, haunted by paranoid suspicion, couldn't be brushed off easily.
"I'm waiting for someone," Mokuba stated reservedly, the cold alertness stinging at the back of his mind.
Yet his attention was drawn to the hand beside his face.

Mokuba reached for the stranger's fingers with curious fascination, a fascination completely alien to him. At the touch of his hand an unknown craving blazed up inside of him.
His skin felt reassuringly warm.

The stranger's hand shifted, inching its way towards his cheek while touching the bare skin on his neck with authoritative confidence, expressing unapologetically that while he enjoyed having this little conversation with him he was nonetheless running out of patience.

"Is afore mentioned someone going to pick you up?" the stranger's voice rasped.

"Maybe," Mokuba replied cheekily, pushing the wet strands of hair out of his face before treating the silhouette hidden in darkness to a brazen smile. "But first come first serve, I guess..."
He felt his heart skipping a beat at the sensation of the stranger's fingers curling in excitement, his nails digging into his rain-drenched shirt. Mokuba couldn't bite back a quiet chuckle.

It felt strange. It felt wrong.
He knew that he was pushing his luck. And while he stood there in the wet darkness, flaunting his perfectly shaped body since his clothes had become practically see-through in the pouring rain, while flirting aggressively with a perfect stranger all possible alarm bells were going off in his head.
And yet Mokuba felt that he was in control and he enjoyed it more than he probably should have.
The pure excitement of adrenaline was shooting through his veins.
His eyes sparkled as he beckoned the stranger to come closer, his hands moving on their own accord as they darted for cover in the stranger's open jacket. Mokuba's fingers blazed a wet trail over the brawny chest hidden underneath.

The stranger withdrew Mokuba's fingers carefully before covering them with soft kisses. Mokuba chuckled while nestling his head up against the stranger's chest.

"Expense is no object," the stranger whispered while nibbling on Mokuba's ear.
A surprised chuckle escaped Mokuba's lips before he brushed his temples against the stranger's neck.
"What makes you think that you can afford me?" he teased, yet he was almost shocked at his own rakish reply.

"Let me see," Mokuba felt the stranger's lips, still pressed against his forehead, contorting into a smug smile, "You look rather young, your smile is charming and you can still feign some interest; you seem forward but not desperate which means you're certain that you'll find someone who requires your services tonight. Since you were stood up I'm only your second choice but the big question is... do you have a choice?"

Mokuba remained silent. Coldly calculating, just like Seto. So the stranger was a businessman, albeit rather indelicate. Either way, the prospect of getting paid somehow got Mokuba even more excited.
And it was still a game, he could stop anytime he wanted...

"Who knows?" Mokuba replied eventually.
"As I said before money is no object," the stranger went on, his fingers entwining with Mokuba's.

"Do you think I'm of age?" Mokuba babbled without giving his words too much thought.
"Does it matter to you what I think?" the stranger replied quietly.
Mokuba shrugged. He couldn't bite back another chuckle as he huddled against the stranger's muscular chest for warmth.

"Where are you taking me?" Mokuba asked sheepishly as the stranger wrapped an arm around his shoulders protectively before leading him down an alley. He felt his heart beating anxiously in anticipation of the stranger's reply.
"To a warm bed," the stranger replied, his soft voice making it sound almost artlessly and appeasing, "which is more than you could possibly wish for right now."
"You're spoiling me," Mokuba sniggered, but couldn't help feeling out of body and out of mind as he listened to his own reply. It wasn't his own voice, this voice sounded distant and muffled, as if someone else was doing the talking for him.
But I'm in control, he felt his mind encircling the idea, slowly cornering it, it's my decision, my choice, I chose to be here.

"And if you prove to me on our drive that you're a good boy I might even treat you to a hot shower."
"Drive?" Mokuba asked, feeling the warm dizziness draining away from his thoughts once again.

He stared at the light brown leather cover inside the white car in front of him as the passenger's door opened at the push of a button.
Gull-wing doors, Mokuba thought dismissively, I've pulled a fat cat.
He felt the fear bubbling up inside of him as his mind clutched at the last desperate thoughts and repeating them like a mantra.
But it's what I've wanted and I'm in control, I have a lock on this, it's what I chose, it's my choice and my decision and I can stop whenever I want to. Right, Seto?
Mokuba's knees gave way under his weight and he collapsed into the stranger's arms, scared at his own body disobeying him.
And if he wouldn't lose consciousness soon Mokuba knew that he would freak out any minute now.

Almost tenderly the stranger picked him up before tilting forward the passenger's seat, gently placing his limp body on the rear bench seat.
"Popped some pills?" the stranger asked quietly, as though he was talking to himself.
Mokuba shook his head, the fear and fury of shiftlessness raging inside his skull.
He closed his eyes and dug his nails into the leather beneath him, clutching at the cover frantically in hope for support.
He felt his world spinning and turning uncontrollably, his heart pounding in his chest like mad.

"Just relax."
Mokuba winced at the stranger's hand upon his thighs but refused to open his eyes.
"Must have been a long night for you."
Mokuba nodded out of pure habit, unable to even recognise the stranger's words as he concentrated on regaining his composure. The stranger's hand was retrieved without him even noticing it.
He was too unfocused; he'd been swept away and cast aside by the excitement but he had to overpower his fears and insecurity once and for all.
This was his only night; the only night to be on his own.

Mokuba rolled onto his side, staring out into the darkness via the windscreen. Judging by the blurry lights they were already moving, though the car seemed to be running so smoothly he neither felt nor heard anything from the streets outside. Only the soft and muffled patter of the rain...
"Nice Maserati," Mokuba heard himself mumbling.
The stranger shrugged. "It's a hire car."

"An obscenely over-priced one, as I can imagine," Mokuba slurred. Slowly his surrounding stopped twisting and turning, "I didn't know you could hire a MC Stradale."
"What was that?" the strangers asked, cocking an eyebrow at him via the rear-view mirror.
"Nothing," Mokuba mumbled, "Right now I just like to hear the sound of my own voice."
"You've had one too many," the stranger replied in a low voice, "and you're definitely not the first one to experience mood swings and nausea while you're sloshed. Just tell me when you're going to throw up; I don't want you to be sick in my car."

"I'm not going to be sick," Mokuba groaned, "I've had worse."
Slowly he sat up and dared another glimpse out of the window.
They were speeding away over the motorway, but even as the lights beneath them flashed past Mokuba vaguely recognized them as head offices he'd visited with Seto before.
So they were still in Domino City, a small voice somewhere in Mokuba's mind added but to most of Mokuba it really didn't matter at this time.

"Lie down," the stranger's eyes focussed on Mokuba for a split second and narrowed, "You're still pale and shaky."
"As if you wouldn't enjoy seeing me like this," Mokuba said before he could have stopped himself. But he curled up into a tight ball on the rear bench seat nonetheless.
Again the stranger cocked an eyebrow at him; though his voice had lost its cold edge as he replied: "I don't mind it but it's not much of a turn-on."

Mokuba giggled. Slowly the frightening blurriness in his mind ebbed away, only to be replaced by his adventuresome naughtiness.
And as the stranger turned up the heating some more Mokuba felt warm, thoroughly warm. And there was this strange tingling sensation in his loins...
The fearful sobriety slowly building up in his mind was cast aside by self-indulgent petulance. One minute he felt like he was dying and the next moment he was sex-crazed and half-hard.
Oh, the joy of being sixteen...

One hand was already nestling between his thighs, trying to make more room for the swelling member trapped inside his tight pants.
Mokuba ran his fingers over his trembling thighs, enjoying the touch of his own warm and tender skin.
He felt the stranger's eyes resting upon his body as a soft unbridled moan escaped his lips, as he reached for his own member, already twitching agitatedly in anticipation.
He locked onto the stranger's eyes over the rear mirror before bucking up into his own hand, shuddering and groaning unabashedly.

The stranger had a hard time taking his eyes off him. Also he seemed a lot more fidgety than before...
Mokuba chuckled again before thrusting his hips upwards rhythmically, yearning for the touch of his own hand.
"Shouldn't you slow down a bit?" Mokuba wheezed as the stranger established eye contact once again.
"I could ask you the same question," the stranger replied, pulling himself together as he shifted nervously in his seat.
"Just keep your eyes on the road and we'll be safe," Mokuba giggled, fingertips ghosting over his firm erection.
His hips pumping, Mokuba desperately tried to find something to push against, something he could hump and bestride shamelessly. He rolled onto his stomach, one hand clamped between the soft leather and his own pulsating flesh, before continuing his hopeless attempts to please himself with his hips chafing against the seat while jolting and jerking debauchedly out of pure frustration.

Mokuba lifted his head and gasped for air. The music inside the car became even more apparent as his muscles synchronised with the booming beats.

Oh, it's so hot and I need some air
Oh boy, don't stop cause I'm halfway there...

"Subtle allusions aren't your cup of tea, eh?" Mokuba grinned while trying to catch his breath.
A rather warm smile appeared on the stranger's lips; his eyes lit up with excitement.
"It's just a small taste of the good things to come..."