[A/N: I do not own the characters Bakura and Yami. This is a darkshipping drabble, rated for language, YAOI and sexual implications. Written (as a gift of my own accord) for LoverOfSilverHairedBishies. I used Dictionary . com's word of the day today, "equanimity," and the format of the drabble that LoverOfSilverHairedBishies wrote for me as inspiration for this. Please enjoy.]
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~Dueling~
He wasn't losing. His breath came in shallow, hoarse gasps that hardly reached his ears because the only thing he could hear was the sound of the Pharaoh's condescending whispers, but he absolutely was not submitting. Caramel-colored skin endlessly intertwined with Bakura's pale vanilla, and the scent of sweat and lavender was nearly overpowering the room. Dark blue sheets lay tussled around them like ocean waves. (How they'd actually managed to make it to a bedroom was beyond him…) Yami's red-violet eyes gazed down at him, probing Bakura's body with an animalistic hunger – but his face displayed a certain equanimity (with a small smile gracing his lips), and his confident comments were making Bakura's concentration falter.
Still, he refused to admit defeat so easily simply because that arrogant prick had tricked him into being on bottom. Yami was an excellent duelist – so good that his skills could be translated to games of the heart and mind also – but in the physical realm, Bakura could dance circles around him. He proved this by suddenly snaking his right hand between Yami's thighs.
And that was all it took; the music of moaning filled the room, adding a tenor sound to Bakura's soft breathing. The thief didn't miss a beat; he used the opportunity of Yami's brief incapacitation to roll over and swap their respective positions. It was a successful maneuver. Yami growled against Bakura's shoulder once he realized what had just happened, though it was much too late for him to do anything about it now. Bakura lapped at one of his dangling earlobes in celebration, mixing the Pharaoh's growling with groaning. Sweet victory…
In all likelihood, the two of them would go at it like this until they were both too worn out to even have sex. After all, ever since Bakura had become sick of his constant losses (the zillion times Yami had fucked him before now), he'd started fighting back in a way that left them both simply too tired to finish what their abrasive foreplay was supposed to accomplish. Bakura had determination, though, and Yami couldn't win forever.
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[R&R. Concrit and life stories are accepted.]