KT: This is a 100% Ryou/Bakura chapter. Maybe soon I'll have a 100% Jouno/Kaiba chapter.

Chapter 13: Master of Puppets

He was still over him, catching his breath. A drop of sweat fell from the driver's temple and patted on Ryou's cheek. As he watched, the driver's expression changed from one of ecstasy to one of mortification and shame.

"Are you alright?" Ryou asked him. Instead of answering, the driver sheepishly pulled away, opening the door and slipping out. After a few seconds, the driver's door opened and the driver was getting in behind the wheel.

Ryou had experienced this before— a frantic fuck followed by regret and a staunch declaration of heterosexuality. He knew exactly what the driver would say next: Either "This was a mistake", or "Please don't tell anybody."

The driver did not surprise him: "This was a mistake. Please don't tell anyone."

Ryou sighed noisily. "It's not like this meant anything. Just take me home, Minuteman."

It was still a little overcast when Ryou got home, and all the house's lights were off, so it was a bit dark, but he could still make out the shape of the lawnmower, which was still sitting in the driveway where Bakura had left it. Ryou put it back in the garage, cursing under his breath the whole time. It was supposed to roll along easily if you pulled on the handle but one of the wheels had some sort of twine wrapped around it and it was stuck, which made lugging the damn thing back into the garage a major pain in the ass.

While he was doing that, he got an idea and tucked it away in the back of his mind.

Oh, there's no way in hell I'm gonna forget an idea that good.

He closed the garage and went into the house, tired and sweaty by now. The interior was deep dark and the stale air pressed down on him from all sides. He could tell the place was empty, so he didn't bother looking around. He turned on the air conditioning and went to the kitchen. In the fridge there was a tiny bottle of cheap sake that he'd bought on his last grocery trip; he took it upstairs into the bath.

He soaked in the hot tub, pouring the sake out a sip at a time into a tiny plastic cup.

He masturbated because he was unhappy and just wanted to feel something good. He came quickly, barely feeling the orgasm. He kept going, wanting to have a better orgasm, but he just wasn't in the spirit of things. He'd gone soft by then, so he gave up and tried to just relax. He drank some more sake. He was trying to turn his thoughts away from Bakura, but he kept going back to what he'd seen Bakura do at ZeppTokyo clubhouse.

Why did he let Mariku kiss him like that, in front of all those people? He's always been a stuck up little prude who freaked out at any mention of sex. I don't understand what happened to him. I can still see him when I close my eyes, locking lips with that bastard… could've been worse, I suppose… he could've kissed Malik instead.

He got hard and jerked off again— the orgasm was better this time, causing Ryou to moan softly. Sighing, coming down, a thought occurred to him.

He let Mariku kiss him because they were in front of all those fan girls. That must be it! Bakura was just giving the audience a show! Ryou smirked. I bet as soon as they were backstage, Bakura kicked the shit out of that desert rat.

Lots of idol singers act that way— getting gay at shows with their band mates just to drive the girls crazy. It's just an act… Bakura, you're such an asshole.

Malik and Mariku rode off on Malik's motorcycle, and Bakura went home with Ryuichi Sakuma and K San. Bakura sat in the back seat with Ryuichi, watching the city lights sail past out the windows, little gems against the darkness of 3 am.

"Bakura, can I ask you a favor?"

He turned and looked at Sakuma San, who was smiling that kind, gentle smile. "What is it, Sakuma San?"

"Would you lend me your notebook?"

"Why would you want to see that?"

"The things you write are beautiful, Bakura. Add music to them, and you've got an anthem for true love. Your feelings for Ryou are intense and so sweet. Don't you want to tell the world about them?"

"No, that'd be too humiliating."

"Please, lend me your notebook. You can't write such beautiful things and then hide them from the world. "

"I'm not even sure I want to try this band stuff. I've got other things I'm supposed to be doing with my time." Bakura looked away from Sakuma, thinking about the millennium items for the first time in who knows how long, feeling guilty.

"Hey, Bakura? How did it feel being up there, singing your heart out for everyone to hear? How'd it feel when the crowd cheered and called for you?"

Bakura closed his eyes for a moment, reliving it. "It was a connection. It was something wonderful."

"Don't rob yourself of that feeling. Don't rob the world of your voice. I believe in you, Bakura, and so do Malik and Mariku. They've already told me that they want to be a part of whatever you do."

Bakura swallowed, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out the worn single-subject notebook, which had been folded lengthwise so it would fit. "Please take care of them."

The feeling came over Bakura as he stepped out of K Sans' car—emptiness, oppression. He had to force a grin as he waved goodbye to Ryuichi, who made Kumagoro wave with him.

"Bye, Bakura! I'll call you in a few days, okay?"

Bakura stood and watched as the car disappeared from view, then turned and started walking up into the house.

The first thing Bakura noticed was that the air conditioning was on now.

Ryou came home, but there are no lights on. He must've gone off to bed already.

Bakura went to the kitchen for something to drink. There was nothing in the fridge, so he made do with a glass of iced water. He stood by the table, forcing himself to drink slowly, even though he was parched.

He was overcome by a sudden powerful sensation of pain against his back; forced forward, he fell on his elbows. He looked up to see Ryou standing there wielding a strange new toy.

It was a length of garden hose, 5 or 6 feet, that had been folded in half, and the ends taped together with electrical tape. It looked kind of like a whip. This strange item was what Ryou had walked up and struck Bakura across the back with, sneaking up quietly and attacking him without any warning.

Ryou had that eerie, inscrutable expression again. "Where were you tonight?"

"I went for a walk."

"Don't lie to me." He swung it up and back, then brought it down on Bakura's back again. Bakura cried out, crawling off into the nearest corner.

"Did you forget how to walk? Get up. Get up right now! GET UP, you stupid SHIT!" Ryou's foot came swinging out and rammed into Bakura's side. He felt and heard the cracking of his ribs. Before Bakura could try to stand, the loop of garden hose was around his neck, tightening as Ryou twisted the strange object around his yami's neck. With frightening strength, Bakura was yanked and dragged into the living room.

Ryou finally eased on the hose and dropped Bakura on the carpet in front of the sofa in the living room. He clicked on the lamp on the end table.

"Tell me what that is," Ryou ordered. Bakura leaned forward and peered at the spot on the sofa cushion that Ryou was pointing at.

There on the cushion was a small stain. Just three tiny white droplets…

Oh, it's cum! From me and Malik!

"Whose is it, Bakura? Who did you fuck in my house?" Ryou's eyes were deadly cold little stones with a glint of such hatred in them as he stared Bakura down.

"Was it Mariku? If it was, I may just have to beat you to death."

Bakura got to his feet and dusted himself off, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say.

"What's wrong?" Ryou yanked on Bakura's side bangs, forcing his head to suddenly jerk painfully to the side. "Can't hear? I asked you who you fucked on my couch in my fucking living room, in my fucking house, which you live in rent-free!"

"It doesn't matter to you! You already dumped him!"

Ryou's mouth dropped open, his fingers sliding out from Bakura's hair. "So it was Malik…"

Bakura watched him, trying to decipher his expression.

Ryou's hand went down from Bakura's hair to slowly wind its fingers around his throat, the sudden heat wrapping around Bakura like a living scarf. The way Ryou held him didn't restrict his breathing. His index finger and thumb dug into the sides of Bakura's neck under the jaw line, and it was very painful. Bakura was moaning uncontrollably, and each vocalization made the pain worse.

"Why Malik? You know how much I hate those people…"

He was nice to me, and I was lonely… You're hardly around anymore, Ryou. My Precious Light…and then when you are here…

Ryou let go of Bakura's neck and slapped him smartly across the face. "Answer me! Why him of all the people in the world? Why in my house? Were you just trying to mock me? Tell me why!"

Bakura cleared his throat, wincing. "Because…"

Ryou was watching him closely now.

Because I couldn't have you. That was what Bakura wanted to say, but all he could get out was,"Because… Because…"

He couldn't say it. Ryou was gazing so intently at him, his eyes so deep and beautiful in the somewhat dim light of the small lamp beside the couch.

Maybe now is the time to try.

He lifted his hand and stroked at Ryou's hair, letting his fingers trail down from the hair to Ryou's temple, down the side of his face, until the finger tips rested at Ryou's jaw line and his thumb was on Ryou's chin, just below his bottom lip. Ryou's eyes widened a little and he seemed to be trembling now. As Bakura regarded him lovingly, tears welled up in Ryou's eyes and spilled out over his face.

"Ryou… I…"

"No!" He slapped Bakura's hand away and shoved him backwards. Bakura stumbled back a few steps and crashed into the nearest wall, sliding down to land on his ass. By the time he hit the floor, Ryou was over him with the hose. Before Bakura had time to think, Ryou was using it to wail on him again, crying out furiously with every strike.

He didn't notice when Ryou started, but he soon realized that Ryou was screaming a long string of angry cusswords and "I hate you!" over and over again. The declaration of hate, so dogged and filled with rage, hurt more than the beating. It broke Bakura's heart, because Ryou had called him names and insulted him and nagged him, but he'd never used the word hate before.

"You ruined my life! I hate you, you sorry fucker! I hate you I hateyouIhateyou!"

Bakura was sobbing and screaming now—not from the pain of the hose lashing into him or the cracked ribs, or the sore neck or yanked hair.

Why do you hate me, Ryou? I try to be good; I try to make up for the way I used to act. I try to be your friend and your stress relief; I try so hard to be whatever you need…

"…But it's never enough!" he screamed. Ryou didn't seem to notice. He alternated between lashing at Bakura and kicking any vulnerable spots, like his ribs or head.

He looked up, watching the hose swing back and come down. He reached up and grabbed it, yanking it out of Ryou's hand, pulling Ryou off-balance. Stunned for a moment, Ryou reached for it, but Bakura tossed it across the room.

"What the fuck are you doing, you asshole?" Ryou's foot came flying in to kick Bakura in the chest. Bakura grabbed it and pushed it backwards, making Ryou fall on his ass. Bakura grabbed Ryou's ankles and pulled himself up over his hikari's body, grabbing the other boy's collar.

"I'm sick of your shit!" Bakura punched Ryou across the face.

They grappled, and the room was filled with thuds and grunts as they fought. Ryou lowered his hand and chopped right at the cracks in Bakura's ribs, causing a sudden burst of pain. When Bakura's torso involuntarily curled in a pain response, Ryou shoved him away with his knee, then threw himself on top of his yami, interlacing his fingers and bringing both fists hammering down on Bakura's diaphragm. The air whooshed out of Bakura's lungs. He felt something, most likely Ryou's fist, bashing into his eye, and saw lights flashing under his eyelids.

It was over. Ryou had won.

Ryou was on top of him, straddling him, catching his breath. If circumstances had been different, Bakura would've been fiercely aroused by now. However, he had had enough, and, too dazed to even contemplate anything, was on the brink of passing out.

"Bakura?"

He couldn't answer.

"Wake up." Ryou's hand lightly slapped the side of Bakura's face. "Wake up, Bakura. Come on."

He would've responded, but he couldn't do a thing. He simply did not have the strength for it.

He felt Ryou's breath right above his face, felt the first hot tear fall on his eyelid.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Bakura. I just got so angry! Why did you sleep with Malik? Why did you make me so angry?"

A harder slap. "Wake up now, Bakura! We have to take you to the emergency room to get patched up!"

He simply could not budge. He heard Ryou run off, then glass breaking in the back of the house. Things being thrown around— the sound was getting closer as Ryou returned. Ryou's feet stopped near Bakura, and there was beeping as he dialed a phone number.

"Yes, my house has been broken into and my brother is very badly hurt. We need an ambulance right away."

chapter 13

master of puppets

finish