Note: Hi! Thank you, MelindaPotter for the review. I really do appreciate each and every review I have ever gotten J
Warning: Mmm. Boy on boy, LEMON, non-con, abuse, OOC…or perhaps not. Language definitely…I love to swear. Um, I think that's it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh, Ryou, Bakura, or any other characters mentioned in this story. If you think I should not be writing this then you have obviously missed the point of this site and should shove something large up your butt.
Chapter Three
I will be sober
I will stay away from major arteries and veins
I will keep the first aid kit stocked
I will buy scar cream
I will not be angry when I cut him
I will not be reckless
O.O
It was cold when I woke up. Why was it always so cold? I rolled out of bed and got dressed in warm clothes again. My stomach was making loud feed me noises and I knew I had gone too long since eating.
I must have been tired, I had slept in till 11:43. So when I made Bakura's breakfast I fried myself some eggs and put on some toast as well.
I had just put the food on the table when the front door opened. My eyebrows shot up and I took a step back from the table. Who the hell was coming in my apartment? How did they get in? Bakura and I were the only ones with keys. Oh shit! What should I do?
I searched out the mind link voluntarily for the first time in three years. But I didn't have to use it. The intruder walked through the kitchen door, dropped a bag on the counter, and moved on to his room.
I waited for my heart to start beating again and called after him.
"Ba-Bakura!" What the hell was he doing up so early? Even when I had been younger he had slept in late into the afternoon, unless he was ste-. That was it wasn't it? He had robbed some store, maybe a bank. Was that what was in the bag? Stolen money? But he usually just put it in the bank account we shared, or hid it under his bedroom floor.
I licked my lips and moved over to the bag. It didn't look like it was holding large amounts of cash…it was a little grocery bag. The thin plastic kind that's supposed to be biodegradable. I opened it and looked inside.
A box with a picture of a tube on it, a bottle of aspirin, a set of thin needles, some thread, and a large box of band-aids. I stared at the items. The box said it had a tube of scar cream inside, and the aspirin and band-aids were obvious. But what were the needle and tread for? My wounds weren't that severe… Unless he wasn't sure how bad they were. He had been very drunk last night, anything he might have remembered this morning would have been through a hung-over haze. Of course, he never seemed to get hangovers.
I was still staring confusedly at the bag when Bakura came back into the kitchen. He sat down in his chair, and I sat opposite him without having to be told. I ate slowly. If you skip too many meals, then eat really really fast, first of all you'll over eat and feel sick, second it's too much of an impact on your system and you'll automatically throw it all back up.
"How do you feel?" I looked up in surprise. It was Bakura's voice, Bakura who was talking, but it didn't sound like Bakura's words. He was looking, not only at me, but at my eyes. It felt too intimate, to uncomfortable. I looked down.
"I'm fine," I told my eggs. He didn't say anything else, so I started to cut up my egg. I started with the white, cutting it into small strips, then making a small incision in the yolk so I could dip the white in it.
"How are those cuts?" I looked up in time to see Bakura make one swift movement with the knife, slicing his egg in two halves. The yolk spread across the plate.
Was that how he had seen me last night? Like an egg? One swift cut and suddenly all the liquids were spilling across the floor?
I shook my head to rid myself of the image.
"They're fine," this was addressed to my toast.
"And the bruises?" This was just too bizarre. Why was he suddenly showing an interest in my well being?
"They're fi-"
"Would you fucking look at me!?" he yelled. Shocked, I obeyed. Of course I probably would have looked anyway. "And stop saying they're fine! I need more feedback than that. Are you hurt? Do you need to see a doctor? How deep are the cuts?" he shot at me. I blinked still confused and vaguely dazed. Bakura made an exasperated sound and stood from the table. "Stand up." I rose to my feet before the command processed in my brain. The hell was he up to? His hands circled my waist and shot up, bringing my shirt and sweater with is to I was left shirtless in the cold air.
"Bakura! What the hell are you doing?" It slipped. It was out of my mouth before it could run through the filter between my brain and my mouth. Fuck. But he didn't do anything. He just shoved the clothes over my head.
"I'm checking your wounds. What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" Maybe he didn't notice. My clothes were tossed on the chair and I crossed my arms over my freezing torso. It was so freaking cold, but Bakura just pushed my arms down and started to pull the bandages off. That was okay, I needed to change them anyway. His fingertips traced down the first cut and I nearly fainted. Gods his touch was like an electric shock! I had to stop myself from moving forward to get more contact. That wouldn't go down well. So I forced myself to remain still as he traced one cut, then the next, following the damage he had caused the night before one cut at a time. "Don't move." With his fingers gone I was freezing again. I had to force myself not to wrap my arms around myself again. When he came back he had the tube of cream from the grocery bag. He squeezed a little of it onto his finger and rubbed it down the cut. I gasped from the feeling of his lubricated finger sliding down my skin. "What? Does it hurt?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. I shook my head.
"No, it's just really cold…" It was the first lie I could think of. But he seemed to accept it.
Once he was finished spreading cream on all of the cuts he turned his attention to the bruises. He pushed one, lightly at first, then harder until I gasped.
"Why are you doing that? It hurts!" I complained. He paused to look up at me.
"I'm seeing how severely you were injured." That was it. He just went back to his probing.
I didn't lose control until he turned me around, to get a look at the bruises on my back. I just couldn't get the image of him pulling down my pants to start stretching me.
I licked my lips and started to list words that started with C. Cat, cuckoo, crazy, canopy. Bakura's fingers slid to the top of my jeans. Cantankerous, catastrophe, cough.
"Is there more?" he asked. When I didn't answer him immediately he just blew out an impatient sigh and reached around to the front of my pants. I gasped when he shoved my pants down, just like he had in my mind just a few seconds before. Cash, carpet, car! I thought a bit more frantically. His hands wandered to my hip, and I gasped, but not from pain. Cataclysmic, cock, cumberso-. Wait, what was that last one? OH GODS WAS I GETTING HARD? I felt the blush on my cheeks and hoped that Bakura wouldn't notice. Of course, when had I ever gotten something I hoped for?
Bakura spun me around and held me by my arms.
"Are you getting fucking hard?" I couldn't even look at him. I just looked at the floor and wished it would swallow me up. Bakura instead looked down to my boxers… "My gods, you are! What the fuck are you thinking about?" I blushed darker. Camp, cost, cum…fuck, I really was lost now… "You're thinking about last night, aren't you Ryou? You're thinking about how I sliced into you, aren't you?" He pressed his hips against mine, and it was then that I realized he was hard too. Bakura pushed his face into the crook of my neck and licked the sensitive skin there. I moaned aloud, it just felt too good, I couldn't stop myself. "Well, so am I," he hissed in my ear.
There was a zipping noise and suddenly I was being pushed to my knees. That was the day I found out my darkness wore pants commando. His cock jumped out at me and I'm embarrassed to say that I started to drool. "Put that pretty little mouth of yours to work and suck," he commanded. Honestly I just couldn't resist. I had wanted this some level for a very, very long time. So I opened my mouth of my own free will and swallowed half of him down. I gagged a little bit, but soon got accustomed to the lack of air, and was able to move.
I was a virgin, and therefore inexperienced in such things. It would take me a while to get used to giving blowjobs, but Bakura was in no mood to let me figure it out this time. He wound his hand in my hair and thrust into my mouth. I gagged for a while and this only seemed to spur him on. Finally, he pulled out of my mouth and pulled up on my hair. I rose, still under the impression that I was about to get everything I had ever wanted. This physical intimacy was fantastic, rough, but that's just how Bakura is. I can get over that.
I was still in my own little fantasy world right up to the point when he threw me to the countertop. It hurt, and that seemed to awaken me. I was bent over at the waist and he was pulling down my boxers. When I was bared to the room he took a step back, I'm not sure what he was going for, but I started to stand up.
"Bend the fuck back over, whore," he ordered. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. This was not going to end well. But I did as he said, trembling and already starting to cry a bit. I heard clothing rustle, then his hands were on my waist. He thrust into me with one solid motion. Oh gods it hurt! I had never been in such pain in my whole life. What the fuck was wrong with me that I had ever imagined anything like this? I started to cry in earnest now. "Were you hard when I was cutting you up? Did the blood on your skin make you want me? Because it made me want you. It made me want to turn you over and take you right there. Why didn't I? Gods! You're so fucking tight…" he trailed off.
This was nothing like I had imagined sex to be like. There were no good feelings here, just pain and the inability to move. I was pinned by not only his body, though that was probably enough, but by the knowledge that I had nowhere to go if I didn't submit to this. So I stayed there, crying as he thrust inside me, over and over and over again.
Bakura quickened his pace, started pumping harder until I was sure I was going to split in two, just like that egg. Just when I couldn't take anymore he pulled out of me almost completely, so that only the head was left inside me; I thought he was finished, that he was going to stop now, and then he plunged back inside me as hard as he could. I screamed, I screamed for mercy, for death, for release, for help, I remember praying to every god I had ever heard of to save me. Surprise surprise; no one came. Well, that's not completely true. With one last slamming pump Bakura came in my broken and bleeding ass. When he finally pulled out of me with an obscene popping noise I felt his cum dripping down my thighs. I reached behind me and my fingers came back red and white. I was bleeding. He fucked me so hard I started to bleed.
No, he hadn't fucked me. He had raped me. He had taken by force what I would have given him willingly. I kept crying long after he had left the kitchen. Long after I had left the kitchen to get in the shower.
I just kept scrubbing at my skin till it glowed bright red. It hurt, but I couldn't get clean. The scent of sex stayed on me even after I had washed my hair six times and had scrubbed down my body at least twice as much.
"Get off, get off, get off…" I kept repeating it over and over, like some kind of morbid mantra. Even I'm not sure what I meant. His cum? The scent? The feeling of being so filthy?
I went to bed crying. Would I ever stop? The beatings and the abuse I could take, but this? Could I live with this? Did I want to? I continued to cry long after I thought all the tears in my body must have been used up.
My dreams that night were full of horrible, horrible things. My family, my mother and sister dead, my father so disgusted with his son that he had fled to another continent to escape me. Bakura and his….
O.O
The boy was crying in his sleep. Bakura didn't even know that was possible. Had he broken his little hikari?
"Whoops," he whispered, but there was no remorse in his tone. In fact, as he stood in Ryou's doorway, he felt vaguely pleased with himself. He wasn't sure why, but he was. This little boy was his to do with as he pleased. And fucking him had pleased him very, very much. It was safe to say that that had been the hardest he had cum in at least a hundred years.
Ryou squirming beneath him had been everything he had ever dreamed of and more. And this was far from the last time. Oh, he had plans for his sweet light.
Uh… that's a little dark even for me…well, as far as sex goes…usually I'm more…carefree with sex. Oh well, if this is too heavy for you please let me know, I can defiantly lighten it up if need be. Reviews are vastly appreciated and help induce sooner updates!
