Food-Bakura & Ryou, Force feeding kink
"Go on Landlord…"
Ryou bit his lip; yelling at his psychotic Yami had been a very, very bad idea…and now he was paying the price. He had been foolish enough to argue over Bakura's lack of sustenance, that his Yami never ate despite his human form. That there was never any food in the house. And when he'd gotten home from class, he'd found the kitchen stocked, Bakura's lanky, mirror image staring at him from the kitchen table.
There was an unusually high amount of food…and the thief's smile was enough to make him want to run. At least he knew what to expect when they were yelling at each other. But this display of kindness and empathy had never occurred before. And that in itself was unnerving.
"You said you were hungry," Bakura said, voice thick with false sweetness, tapping long fingers against the table, "I made you dinner. So…eat."
Ryou did. He ate the hearty plate of pot roast his dark had somehow managed to prepare. He ate without looking up, feeling those red eyes burning into him. "Thank you Yami," he smiled softly, wiping his mouth, nervously arranging his fork and knife across the plate, "It was delicious," his smile softened when Bakura smiled back, "Since you cooked, I'll wash the-"
He paused as another helping was laid in front of him. Medium-well roast, veggies, bread and butter with gravy; starch and proteins. All the things Ryou's body had previously been denied. Feeling more nervous by the minute, he ate the second helping. Ryou threw the napkin on his plate, signaling he was finished. "I'm really quite full," he said, smiling at the murderer across from him, "Thank you though. You're a wonderful cook. I'll just-"
Bakura smiled, shook his head casually, chin resting on his folded fingers, "There's more…"
"Oh no," Ryou pushed his plate aside, "I couldn't eat another bite."
"Of course you can," Bakura's smile was suddenly cloying, more threatening than his anger had ever been, "Because you've been bitching how I never fed your body," he plopped another full plate down, "and how there's never any food in the house," he sat down gracefully, crossing his legs, cocking his head, "and how I NEVER do anything to help around here. Now. There is food I've stolen and prepared, sitting in this damn domestic setting waiting for you, learning to use these blasted modern cooking devices…" he grinned, "So. I've done what you asked. And now, you will eat."
Ryou chewed his nails, his stomach already churning from the dangerous glint that his look alike held in those red eyes, the sharp hint of canine behind his teeth. Bakura was pale, thin…but Ryou knew very well that he was quick with knives and fists, weapons as well as words. And Bakura was holding a carving knife dripping with juices from the roast… Yes, Ryou felt afraid of this false kindness. So, he ate. He kept chewing and swallowing after his jaw and stomach hurt, staring intently at his glass of milk.
"Um…Bakura?" Ryou turned the fork in his hands, already tired of the chunk of meat and potato dangling from the end, "Aren't you going to have any? You made so much…"
"Me? No. No, no," Bakura grinned, standing and heading to the fridge, "You see, I don't really experience hunger," he pulled out a bottle of wine, sipped directly from the lip of it, "So I've no need for all this. But, I must admit, this…modern wine is much better than what I had back in Egypt," he gestured toward his former host with the bottle, "More?" Ryou had eaten half of his third helping. "No thank you," Ryou swallowed the lump in his throat, sipping the last of his milk, "I can't eat anymore."
"Well," Bakura sighed, suddenly filling Ryou's plate with a fourth serving as well as some sort of pre-made salad he'd kept in the fridge, "It would be such a shame to let it go to waste…"
'He's punishing me' Ryou bit his lip, playing with his spoon, biding time, 'He's punishing me for complaining again…' Bakura smiling was dangerous. And Bakura looked downright happy.
"Bakura…I won't ask you anymore," Ryou whispered, wishing the carving knife weren't so conveniently close to his other half, "Just…let me go to my room now?"
"But Landlord," Bakura laughed, slugging back another helping of wine, "I cooked. Just for you. Because you wanted me to…" He stood then, knocking his empty plate off the table, grabbing the weak boy, squeezing his jaw, "You bitch and moan about everything I do and don't do and you make me feel…inadequate. In fact, you specifically complained about your LACK OF FOOD, last you threw that little temper tantrum," Bakura laughed, overturning Ryou's plate, letting the meal fly across the surface of the table, smearing the tablecloth, "So, you're going to keep eating and thank me for being so fucking helpful, so stupidly domestic…until I am satisfied that my work has been appreciated," he smacked him, just enough to startle the boy, "Is that understood?"
Ryou nodded, taking deep breaths as Bakura rid him of the plate, instead choosing to push the serving platters over to him, sitting, sipping wine. Dangerous and calm once again. "Aren't I such a good cook, landlord?" Bakura grinned, "Don't I take such…good care of you?" "Yes," the boy whispered, shredding a piece of bread, calculating what should be said, "Thank you very much for cooking for me…you did a wonderful job…"
"Oh why thank you," Bakura sighed gently, for a moment, looking…human, touched by a compliment, "I worked very hard translating those blasted cookbooks. I made dessert as well. Something called chocolate peanut butter cheesecake? I've never had it. Never quite got the taste for sugar. But you Brits," Bakura revealed a large helping from the oven, sliding it in front of Ryou, leaning against the counter casually, "You like your sweets, don't you? Your father certainly sends you enough of them. And honestly, how can cheese and chocolate possibly be good together?" Ryou twisted his sleeves, biting his lip, "Bakura…I'll be sick if I eat that. Really, I'll have some later…?"
"No," Bakura was no longer smiling. He looked dangerous, flipping his knife in the air, catching it by the handle every time, "You'll keep eating until I decide you've had enough. And then you'll keep eating it. Because maybe then, once you're throwing up the delicious meal I ate for you, you'll learn not to bother me with your incessant complaining and nagging." Ryou swallowed the lump in his throat.
"EAT," Bakura snarled, revealing sharp canines as he snarled. Ryou played with the fork, forced a bite into his mouth. Just Bakura's anger was enough to make him feel sick. But this new tact…this manipulation was terrifying and bizarre. The more Ryou ate, the more he felt like crying from the intensity of the smile, the blazing eyes. His stomach hurt all the way up to his ribcage, making it difficult to breathe. Chew chew. Swallow. When he gagged, he looked up, looked at the dishes as evidence of the forced binge.
"Bakura," he whispered, a cold chill racing up his back, "I think I'm going to puke…"
"Good," Bakura dragged him over to the sink by his hair, forced his head down toward the disposal, "Did you enjoy your meal, landlord?"
Ryou nodded helplessly, trembling as his hair was yanked.
"And are you likely to ask me to cook for you again?"
Shaking his head roughly, Ryou grit his teeth against the acid in his throat, "No. No Bakura, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I complained, that I made you feel like you had to do this for me…you never have to do it again."
"Good!" Bakura sauntered toward the living room, tossing over his shoulder, "And don't even think of asking me to do the dishes…" The front door slammed. Ryou collapsed, staring at the floor, the sheer amount of empty plates and bowls on the table and counters. Truly, he wondered how far Bakura would gave gone had he not apologized. He wondered where Bakura had gotten the knives too…
Taking several deep breaths, Ryou lay down on the floor, staring at the table, feeling sick and bloated and disgusting. No, he would not ask Bakura to cook for him again…
I wanted this to be an example of bizarre manipulation. Something Ryou thinks is thoughtful at first, but quickly reveals itself to be sadistic.