Impudent
By: WhisperedSilvers
Prompt: "He want to lick the icing off."
Summary: In which Téa strips the Pharaoh of the very beliefs he has of her. Impunity-verse
Really, it was all her fault. Her and her big, fat mouth. She should've kept it close—honestly.
"Pharaoh, I don't really think you would like it." Téa tried again, her arms crossed under her chest. Joey and Tristan watched with raised eyebrows, she was fighting a losing battle.
"Honestly, Téa, I do not see what the problem is. You suggested that we could go to this club you were speaking of—"
"It was an example," She nearly groaned, "Besides, I know for a fact that Yugi doesn't like them anyway."
The Pharaoh paused, as if he were truly contemplating the idea.
Success!
"Yugi says he does not mind going if he does not have to be spiritually present for the whole night."
Téa nearly growled.
Dammit Yugi!
Téa woke up early, and quite literally dragged Joey and Tristan to Yugi's, startling the Pharaoh with a surprise birthday breakfast. Solomon Moto had left that day early to visit professor Hopkins; he wasn't expected till tomorrow evening. Téa took over the kitchen, barking orders to Tristan and Joey.
Stir it properly or the dough will harden!
Flip the eggs every twenty seconds to prevent them from sticking!
That is not how you chop vegetables!
They were always doing something wrong.
She introduced the Pharaoh to a substance called coffee, heart-pumping, eye-opening caffeine.
With sweet jam, tart berries and different shades of hazelnut and crème for his waffles—he was quite overwhelmed with the amount of food. He thanked her whole-heartedly for the morning—she laughed nervously and blushed embarrassedly before brushing off his gratitude.
She wasn't really looking forward to going to the water park—since, well, last time. So she made a tiny suggestion—tiny—
"Téa we've all been to club before," Joey interjected, he nearly coiled back at the venomous glare she sent him, "And you can get us fake ID's in like a snap."
"That's not the point, Joey!"
This time she really did groan. Out of all the places, the Pharaoh chose the club. The word Pharaoh and club shouldn't even be allowed in the same sentence. First of all they were underage, it's not like they didn't have their fair share of alcohol—it was the fact of the matter. Second of all she would lose her friends once they enter the club, getting out together would be difficult. Third of all—the most important of them all would be—the girls. This was broken down into subcategories.
Téa's been multiple clubs, she's a dancer and she had to learn all types of dancing. Her boys seeing her dance like that, was not something she ever, ever wanted them to see. Amusing as it is, it's embarrassing. Next, would be the girls that would flock them. She wasn't jealous of her boys—she wasn't jealous of the attention they accumulated, she loved her boys all the same, but that was it—they were her boys.
She didn't know what she would do if those things decided to leech onto Yugi.
She didn't know what was more dangerous: saving the world or exposing the Pharaoh to the world of sex.
Téa felt a headache begin to pulse beneath her left eyelid, Gods she needed an aspirin.
"—the drinking age here is eighteen, technically you are older than us, so you really don't need one. But Téa has connections for the rest of us."
The Pharaoh looked at Tea, curiously intelligent burgundy orbs flickered over to her pale face, and she looked like she wanted to curl up into a ball and scream.
He was hesitant when he spoke, "We don't have to go to the club if you don't want us to Téa. We could do something else."
Now she felt horrible.
It was like she kicked a puppy—guilting her into letting them do what they want—how nice.
Téa sighed before standing up and leaving the room, "Whatever do what you want, I'm going to bang my head against the wall."
XXX
It wasn't hard to get acquire the fake ID's, the owner is one of her father's old business partners, she technically didn't need one, her birthday was next week—her boys on the other hand…
Téa only invited a handful of people. Mai, Duke—she didn't bother with Serenity because she knew Joey would have aneurysm if she came to a club—the rest were, Joey, Tristan and her. She was hesitant on inviting Bakura, but he texted her and said he would be in England for the week.
If Téa was going to a club with women throwing themselves at her boys, she was going to kick their ass in style.
So she called Mai.
Which actually, was a really bad idea.
With a black leather bandeau top that stopped just where her ribs began and blue, faded rip skinny jeans and her black sandals. Her hair, her short straight hair brushed the underside of her jaw, exposing the elegant curves of her neck. Makeup was probably the only thing that was going to give them a double take, dark kohl lined eyes and crimson colored lipstick.
Yep, she waited for the ground to swallow her whole.
"Would you lighten up Téa? You look hot!" Mai waggled her eyebrows, "I'm pretty sure the Pharaoh won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."
Instead of blushing and sputtering—Téa groaned, "That's what I'm afraid of."
"Hey! Mai! Téa!" Joey's voice boomed over the bass that was currently vibrating the sidewalk.
Téa snapped her head back and nearly swallowed her tongue. The pharaoh with his hands shrugged into the pockets of his dark wash jeans and his white dress shirt with his collarbone exposed and she really, really hated hormones. She focused on Joey whom decided to wear his black dress shirt and Tristan, who fashionably decided to wear a burgundy colored armless shirt—she was not going to see her boys for the rest of the night.
Those tramps were going to trample her boys.
Thank the Gods she brought Mai with her, grab them and rope em.'
"What the hell do you think you're wearing, young lady?" Tristan asked scowling, her eyed her leather crop top, "And is that makeup!"
"Tristan, I pray to the Gods that you were not going to start chastising Téa on account of my work—I spent an hour on that face, mister." Mai scolded, her eyebrows accusing.
He chuckled nervously, "Of course not, but don't you think the makeup is too much—"
"Can it, cantaloupe boy," Téa sighed.
Mai squealed pouncing on the boy with tri-colored hair, "Happy birthday Pharaoh! How does it feel to be twenty—well you know what I mean."
The Pharaoh winced at her very touchy public display of affection; awkwardly he patted her back, "Ah, thank you Mai. It doesn't feel much different. You speak as if you are already twenty."
She released him before grinning, "I'm twenty-one."
"What?" Joey exclaimed, "I thought you were a couple years older than us, not five—Tch, old woman, hanging out with a bunch of teen—"
The blonde wacked him over the head, her black dress moved with her, "What was that?!"
"Nothing!"
"Ah, what does it matter anyway? Téa will be eighteen next week." Tristan cut in and his arms under his chest.
The Pharaoh looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed, "Your birthday is next week? Why did you not say anything?"
Téa tried to be blasé with the situation, she tried not to look into his eyes, "It's nothing, I'm sure Yugi would've told you about it sooner or later."
Just then, a car passed, it's headlights illuminating Téa's features for a split second. The makeup reflecting off the light of the car had her eyes; her azure colored orbs stand out with the kohl that rimmed exotically slanted lashes and red stained lips that looked as if they were kissed brutally—the Pharaoh blinked almost as if in shock.
Where did such thoughts come from?
Téa who quickly noticed his staring and sudden silence, bit the inside of her cheek, "Alright, let's go inside—Duke's already there."
They followed her lead until they reached the line before Joey inquired, "Wait how did Duke get in if he's the same age as us?"
"One of Duke's shops has a joint ventureship with the owner of the club." She replied, "Easy access and all that. Ready Mai?"
She slipped under the red robes, Mai hot on her heels.
"Where are you going?" The Pharaoh asked, burgundy colored orbs watched her expression carefully.
"To get us in." The brunette replied with a hint of mischief in her eyes, her hips swaying with every step.
When they left Tristan sighed, placing an arm on Yami's back. "Despite you know, you being a king and all, you have a lot to learn about girls."
Joey nodded enthusiastically, his blonde hair glimmered under the lights of the streetlamps, "They are girls and so they use their girliness to manipulate people."
It took a second for those words to sink in, his eyes widened, "You mean to tell me that Téa is using her femininity and charm to seduce men into offering her anything that she should desire?"
Joey blinked before scratching the back of his head, "I guess you could put it like that."
Yami slowly began to understand that women in the twenty-first century were dangerous creatures. Téa and Mai walked back carrying wristbands, placing one on each of their wrists, she began to explain, "These will let you in and out of the club. Don't lose them."
Téa was clever as she was crafty.
The vixen.
The Pharaoh suddenly saw Téa in a different light. Unfortunately, this will be a long night and so, he would discover inch-by-inch that Téa was not a girl that could be tossed a side and be overlooked—no. She would strip him of the very innocence that he looked at her with.
The lights were flashing like streaks of lightening. With silver highlights and gold lasers, red smoke and darkness that curled around the walls and with multi-color flashing tiles. The music was loud, deafening and the bass had his heart thumping. But the thing that stunned the Pharaoh enough to have his brain go blank was the raw, sexual, movements of dancing and just what the hell was he looking at? Did people really dance like this? Téa never danced like—
His jaw twitched; did she dance like this?
After the swarm of fans that Téa and Mai had effectively warded off, they were now at the bar, Téa on his left and Joey and Tristan behind him. Mai had wandered off to find Duke.
"Tristan, you gonna do shots?"
"Why Téa, I didn't know you had it in you."
"Don't test me Tristan." Téa replied half-heartedly, she motioned the bartender for the shot glasses.
"What is a shot?" The Pharaoh asked, his wine-colored orbs flickered over the different labels of alcohol, "Is it like a game?"
"More like a drinking game. Joey has a zero tolerance for alcohol. So he usually drags us back," Tristan replied, "Shots are taken in small dosages because the drink or the small glass is filled with highly concentrated alcohol, which makes it hella' strong."
"Tequila okay?"
"That's fine!"
Téa jumped when she felt hands slid across her bare abdomen, her knee slamming against the counter, and a chin nestled in the juncture of her shoulder and neck. Really, what man had the balls to grope her in front of her over-protective guard—
"You know Téa, I expected leather tops from the Pharaoh—not you. But I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised."
She didn't notice the Pharaoh's glare, but she shrugged him off. Too engrossed in the cups that were quickly filling up before her.
"Hands of the merchandise Devlin, I'm not drunk enough for that." The brunette paused her movements, placing a pinch of salt on her wrist, "Wanna do some shots?"
"I didn't know you drink," Duke's eyebrows raised, he leaned against the corner of Téa and Joey, "Maybe later, I'm still on the kick from that vodka spritzer."
"I came with the King of Games and his crew—I'm going to need lots of booze to get me through the night. I can't believe women throw themselves at men like animals! Ugh, scorning the female race—that's what they do!" Téa exhaled exasperated.
He chuckled, "I have first-hand experience, trust me," He winked at her when she glared, "Speaking of the King of Games," Duke came up to the Pharaoh and patted him on the back, "Happy birthday man! How's it feel to age?"
He coughed, "Not much different. Thank you, Devilin—"
"There you are!" Mai's voice interjected, "I was looking for you Duke, it's so loud in here—I thought I'd never find you."
"I'm right here, babe."
Joey scoffed, "Don't you get tired of flirting?"
Téa hid a smile.
Devlin waved it off, "Of course not."
Téa placed the glasses in front of her in a single uniform line, salt already balanced out on her wrist and she asked, "Ready Tristan?"
Tristan took a seat next to her, "Ready."
Her quick tongue darted out and picked up the salt on her wrist, shoving the small glass of liquid down her throat in one breath.
One.
She coughed, "Hell, I forgot how bad this tasted."
Two.
"Tell me about it."
Three.
Téa giggled, her cheeks flushed, she winced slightly, "Ugh, my throat burns."
Tristan puckered his lips, before glancing at Joey's blank face. Part of him felt slightly guilty for drinking, he knew Joey's father was an alcoholic and verbally abusive, because of that he and Serenity were separated for a long time. Joey had never forgiven his father—he didn't want to end up like him, and so he never consumed a drop of alcohol.
Fortunately, Tristan could hold his alcohol Téa on the other hand…she could hold it—just in small doses and if she monitors her drinks. Three shots were okay; it made her feel fuzzy, loose, warm and approachable. Six and her morals went straight through the roof. Nine and she couldn't remember anything after.
"Téa, are you sure you should be drinking so much?" Yami asked slightly wary at her flushed cheeks and dazed orbs.
"I'm fine! Really!" She waved him off, "S'not bad, you wanna try a drink?"
The Pharaoh was sure that when he was in Egypt that the only alcohol that he drank was wine and that was probably a couple of glasses. He didn't think that he could guzzle down concentrated alcohol like water—besides, he prefers to be of sobriety rather than be intoxicated. He shook his head, "I'm fine."
Mai took this as her cue, with a hand gripping onto Joey's dress shirt and the other on his ear, "Let's dance, Joey!"
She dragged him towards the corner of the room, despite his loud protests that resonated over the booming bass. Tristan quickly made himself disappear. Duke, Yami and the slight inebriated Téa stood there in front of the bar. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in the middle of an awkward silence in a club—this was her type of thing. Dancing. Heart pumping, flashing lights, with the adrenaline-rush and the way you get lost in the beat of the songs.
The song shifted, the bass kicking low, smoke curled onto the floor and she knew this song.
As if noticing her recognition, Duke quickly slid his hands across her shoulders, "Wanna dance, Téa?"
"Yeah—oh!" Téa quickly spun around to face the birthday boy and didn't notice who close they were, nose brushed nose and she blinked. "Are you gonna be alright here? I can stay and fend off those fangirls."
He snorted, "Téa, I can handle—"
She cut him off, "Alright, just come and get me if you need me!"
Téa grabbed Duke's hand and rushed off onto the dance floor. Moving through the swarm of people like a bee hunting for flowers, he lost her in the faces of the crowd, the room far too dark to see the outline of her body.
"—it."
The Pharaoh finished his sentence. Crimson orbs blinked rapidly at the sight of her disappearance. Something in his stomach dropped at the sign of her withdrawal, along with the game shop owner. He supposed it was his fault, after all he did ask to come here. But he didn't think that she would abandon him. Even when he was dueling, she would be on the sidelines, if not physically near him—spiritually. With his partner sleeping in the spirit room, with control of his body—he had forgotten how it felt to be lonely.
And it was his birthday too.
But he supposed he could understand—dancing was Téa's passion—her dream. It was only natural that she would rid herself of all weight and just be herself.
The music got louder, bass got heavier and the lights flashed like lightening. He was going to be deaf when left this establishment; he could barely hear his heart beating. He caught Joey's blonde hair in the corner of the room, Mai was out on the floor somewhere—amber orbs caught crimson and he motioned for Yami to come.
Hesitating for the briefest moment, he started to make his way towards his friend, ignoring the squealing girls from the side of the bar. Joey sighed inaudibly, before patting his back.
"I lost Tristan Mai is somewhere in the crowd—went to look for Téa." The blonde was nearly yelling over the speaker, but the Pharaoh understood him perfectly.
"Did you find Téa?"
He shook his head, his eyes glimmered green when a strobe light filtered through the room, with a finger tucked into the loop of his pants, he cocked his hips to the side, "Nah, she's somewhere with Duke—right—what the hell is she doing?"
Joey's jaw slackened, when he caught sight of the brunette.
The Pharaoh followed his eyes; he felt like someone socked him straight in his gut.
Téa's back was pressed intimately against Duke's chest, his hands riding low on her hips, those same hips moving into a steady grind that matched every time the beat dropped. Her blue eyes darkened to a steady navy, rippling like a stormy ocean, her cheeks flushed and her legs limber—her abdomen glistened from sweat under the twinkling lights.
His fists tightened.
"—I didn't know Téa could dance like that!" That was Mai—when did she get here? Wine-colored orbs were stuck on the lithe figure that was only mere feet away. She didn't seem to notice that he was here—that anyone was there for that matter. It was like she was in her own world.
"What is she doing? What the hell is she doing? Where did she learn to dance like that?"
"Never underestimate Téa, Joey—sides' she did need to loosen up a bit. I don't think she would've danced without some alcohol."
But then Duke suddenly twisted her around, his hands sliding over her waist like a map, her hips pressed against his, and his grip on her tightened. Yami saw a glimpse of her expression; her dark lashes brushed her cheeks, teeth tugging on wine-stained lips and her hair brushing the curve of her neck. Something hot lurched in his stomach, his eyes flashed to a dark crimson. Then Duke twirled her back, her backside slamming against his front.
The song changed, it was slower, with the bass dropping even lower, the beat scratching along the walls—something changed.
Téa's left arm slid across his forearm, slithering it's way up his shoulder and tangling her hand in black locks, dragging him closer to the junction of his neck. Her back arched—
The Pharaoh felt something snap, like a rubber band breaking under the tension of force and his eyes glittered dangerously. Something threatening lurked in the depths of his mind, something sinful curled in his blood and he was moving before he was even conscious of it.
It was the mere fact that Téa was dancing—dancing, if he could even call it that, with someone other than him—
Which really didn't make any sense. His feelings for the brunette were those of friendship—nothing more—he could never look at her as something more—she quickly smashed that thought out of his head—because now, now something—everything changed. She wasn't his friend anymore—no, she was a woman.
With a quick flick of his wrist he threw off a surprised Duke, to the side, and slammed himself into the back of Téa, his own hand grabbing her wrist—her nimble fingers threading themselves into his own multi-colored locks. She didn't notice the change, she erotically moved her hips to the beat, but when she pressed her back into his chest—she felt something bulky—the puzzle and she froze.
Téa was drunk, not stupid—she knew who that was.
Nearly cracking her own neck, she twirled around to face startlingly golden tinted crimson orbs, and she swallowed.
"P-Pharaoh, w-what are you doing?" Her slight question ended in a squeak when he pressed his hips to hers, not even noticing the people that were dancing around him.
Yami tilted his head innocently, "I was curious as to your dancing methods," He leaned closer, his nose nearly brushing hers, "I never seen dancing like this."
The pharaoh was anything but innocent.
He wanted to tease her a bit, get under her skin.
Téa's skin began to flush, she could've blamed it on the heat of the club, or the way she was just dancing right now—close—he was too close. Even with the blasting music and the loud chatter around them, she could hear his voice perfectly clear, "This isn't exactly decent dancing."
He quirked a brow, "Oh?"
The song changed again, it was slower, more quiet, the bass heavy, but the beat slow. His hands that were resting on her hips slid higher up, around the indent of her waist—tightening, he pulled her until he felt her bare skin against the thin cloth of his shirt, he moved—swaying just as Duke was before.
"What kind of dancing is this then?"
Téa could barely wrap her head around the fact that, the once-a-king of Egypt was dancing with her and not the honest, courteous, honorable type of dancing either—no this was downright dirty, carnal—sinful and it sent her blood scorching.
Gods—help me.
"It's, uh," She stuttered, her brain ceased to function, she was so painfully shy that she actually stopped dancing—he didn't. Yami's hand slid behind her back, his protruding knuckles running down the bumps of her spine, bare flesh against bare flesh. His hand splayed across her lower back, he forced her hips to rub against his, "I-I-It, it doesn't exactly have a name."
"So then how do you dance it?" His tone was innocuous, but Téa knew that the Pharaoh did nothing without purpose.
And so, with a sudden streak of confidence, she wrapped her hands around his neck, surprising the Pharaoh, his eyes widened—that glimmer in her eyes was a challenge—
"I don't think you need much instruction." Her tone was soft, nonchalant—it betrayed her body language, however.
"You were always a natural dancer," Yami suddenly said, he could feel her chest inhaling and exhaling. "When you're walking, when you're speaking—graceful," Dark amethyst orbs with red tints burnt her skin and added in after a moment, "You make it easy."
"Practice makes perfect," Téa gasped when he suddenly dipped her back, sharply. His nose brushing a feather light line up her neck.
"I suppose," His voice rumbled almost pleased, he brought her back up cuttingly, he twisted her back, his chest pressed against her back, the curve of her spine felt the prickliness of his puzzle, it didn't matter—because all she could feel was him.
His hands gripped her hips like handles, swaying her to the left and then right—
Téa's eyes caught Joey's whom was watching them from a distance with his jaw hanging—then suddenly something flickered through her eyes—
The Pharaoh's lips were near her ear, even through the blasting music, she could hear him just fine, and "You know you should be focusing on your dance partner—not Joey."
"I'm not facing you."
"No," He tangled his hand into her hair, pulled her down till her head was resting on his shoulder, "But you can feel me—can't you?"
Azure orbs slid over to the multi-colored haired man, whose features she couldn't see even in the dark—even with the flashing strobe lights, "Possibly."
He chuckled, rich and deep and her heart stuttered.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed onto her forearm and yanked her out of the Pharaoh's grasp; her violet orbs were twinkling with adrenaline and mischief.
"Mai!"
She grabbed the Pharaoh's arm and pulled him along with her, "We found Tristan! C'mon, the surprise is ready!"
Téa glanced back at Yami, his features were impassive once more, but his eyes were curious. They were moving swiftly through the crowd of people, up the stairs to what looked like a lounge. Joey, Tristan and Duke were already sitting around in the couches that were surrounded by red rope—VIP.
"We were going to have the host announce you through the speakers—but we thought you had enough publicity as it is already." Tristan said, he moved over so the Pharaoh could take a seat.
Mai grabbed something that was wrapped in a shiny bag; she pulled out a cake—and a few candles with a lighter, "Ta-dah!"
The Pharaoh blinked, he suddenly felt a little uncomfortable, and "You guys did not need to get me a cake."
Joey waved it off, "Just accept it Pharaoh, we are never gonna listen to you."
Duke and Téa laughed.
Téa grabbed the candles and stuck them into the cake, flicking a match on the cardboard, she lit the candles and pulled the cake closer to Yami, she ran a hand threw her hair, "Normally we usually sing—but we're kinda too old for that—so just make a wish and then blow."
"A wish?"
"Well, yeah. When it's your birthday we put a candle on the cake—you blow the flame and make a wish." Tristan explained, "It's tradition."
"But you have to make the wish and keep it to yourself—or it won't come true." Duke said, his eyes flickered over to Téa.
Yami stared at the flame.
A wish?
What could he wish for?
He could start with his memories for one thing or…
He glanced at Téa.
The Pharaoh blew his candles out, the smoke swirling in the air like ribbons. His friends clapped, before handing out the plates, taking a knife, Mai cut a slice cake and placed it on a plate, before she grinned, "Another tradition is to have everyone that celebrated your birthday feed you a piece of cake."
He blinked, he suddenly felt uncomfortable at the attention that was being bestowed onto him, "It is not necessary to—"
"Tradition Yami, tradition." Joey stressed, on instinct he grabbed a swipe of cake onto the blue plastic fork and shoved it into the Pharaoh's mouth.
"See! Nothing to it!"
Yami with wide eyes uncharacteristically choked—he chew quickly before swallowing the dark delight. Chocolate was it—he tasted that flavor a very long time ago and cherries! The bright, juicy fruit with the undertones of almond—Téa must've selected this cake—his favorite.
"My turn!" Mai cheered, she grabbed a fork and feed him a bite—cheekily rubbing whip cream on his nose.
Next was Tristan and then Duke.
Téa grabbed the fork and placed a small piece of chocolate with a dash of crème, with one hand under the fork, in case of any droppings—she'd catch it in her hand, Yami parted his lips and accepted the small treat—an inkling of mischief glinted in his eyes—his teeth grazed the plastic, puckering his lips to taste the underside of the fork where the whipped cream clouded. Wine-colored orbs locked onto cobalt—Téa nearly dropped the fork.
Mai whistled.
The brunette turned around with her eyes narrowed and flushed cheeks, she hissed, "Mai!"
She laughed.
The Pharaoh watched Téa from the corner of his eye. With the bright velvet red lights that reflected off of mahogany-colored hair, smoky sapphire-colored orbs that glowed in the dark and the small quirking of her pink lips—everything had changed.
He couldn't see her as just a friend anymore—he couldn't.
And so, the five thousand year-old Pharaoh had acquired a crush on a twenty-first century girl.
Chaos shall ensue.
This is the sequel to Impunity.
I've always wondered what would happen if the Pharaoh went to a club.
Prompt was by Rihanna: Birthday Cake ;)
Please Review!