Gah, I knew that Malik was 10.. So I took the advice and labeled this thing
"slightly AU" because I'm just too lazy to change it, and well, at 10 I
never thought about things like kissing and stuff.
Malik: But you're a naïve Midwesterner that had to have 'deep throat' explained to you by your Senior Government teacher because you and your best friend were the only two that didn't laugh. . . .
*glares* That wasn't me that had it explained. . . .that was Debbie. And maybe people do think about kissing and sex at 10. I dunno, just I never did.
Same old disclaimers, same old everything. And like I said in the first chapter, each chapter could possibly stand alone, I'm just grouping them to make one happy Ishtar-family fic.
A year has passed between the previous chapter and this one, just so I don't confuse anyone.
~*~*~*~*~
Malik sat on a lower step of one of the many staircases that connected the streets to the houses in the city where he and Rishid had moved to after the voice had become too annoyed with Isis and her nagging about delivering a message to a nonexistent pharaoh. The ever-present sands of the desert around the oasis of the city swirled in the winds through the streets, causing most everyone to don the traditional garments of their land for protection, but Malik was fed up with traditions. He just would close his eyes when the winds blew so he could wear his colorful Western clothing, and today he had chosen a blood red hoodie which was pulled tight around his face and black vinyl pants to cover his legs. And as always, the Millennium Rod was at his side, tucked in to his belt so as to never lose his sacred possession.
Rishid should have been back by now with the sales from the cards Malik had stolen from the market a few weeks prior. It had become routine. Malik would go in to shops dressed as a teenage tourist and would grab rare, powerful cards one at a time, then Rishid would set up a stand where he could sell the cards for a lower price than the stores, still making quite a profit from the scam.
'You should punish him.'
Malik sighed, looking up at the setting sun. The voice was ever present, convincing the adolescent to perform many stupid acts of violence toward his servant. How many times had he raped Rishid due to the voice's urging to teach the elder humility? It was more than he could remember actually.
"We're going to have to move soon master. I think the police are starting to catch on to our game." Rishid offered a free hand to the younger man as he stood in front of him on a lower step, helping Malik up so they could walk up to their home together.
"I am not pleased Rishid." The adolescent growled as he yanked the money box from the elder's hands, counting the paper notes quickly as Rishid shut the door behind them. "Three hundred and seventy pounds only? You call that a day's work!?"
"Tourism has been down because of what happened in America, Master." Rishid sighed, pulling his robes off to sit on the couch, only wearing a pair of jeans. "They think all people from around here hate them, so they aren't coming as much."
Malik sighed as he filed the paper notes in to the box where the two kept their earnings from the card business they started, counting it up with the previous earnings they saved from the past seven months. "We have 23,370 Pounds after today saved up, so we should be able to go somewhere else and start out easy enough. Plane tickets will be about 8000 Pounds for the both of us, so we'll still have a decent chunk of money left over to start with.."
Leaning over to the minifridge that was near the couch, Rishid pulled a cool bottle of sparkling water out, watching the adolescent go over his notes about the business he had started. Malik was incredibly smart with such worldly matters as money and business, though the boy had only started in this game seven months ago. Malik had the face of an angel and a tongue like a double edged sword, the absolute necessity of this line of work.
"I read at the real game shop that there is going to be a Duel Monsters Tournament held in Los Angeles with a bunch of prize money. Think of what you could win with your skills."
Malik looked up from the charts he had been studying, smirking as he pondered his brother's words. "You know Rishid, you do have good ideas once in a while. We could make a fortune selling cards to those fools. All we'd need would be a few more pickpockets, and then all those duelists would lose their most prized cards and be forced to buy them back from us."
"That's not what I mean Malik." Rishid glared at the younger boy, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Let's be honest proprietors for once in our lives. I'm sick of this performance."
Rishid's head snapped to the side as the hard slap of Malik's hand pressed across his cheek. "Do not counter me Rishid. I will not tolerate such disobedience."
The elder sighed, standing up from his seat on the couch. "I'll go pack for our trip master."
~*~*~*~*~
"I wish you would've told me to enter." Malik yawned as he watched the duel going on between Bandit Keith, the North American champion, and Pegasus J. Crawford, the creator of Duel Monsters. "Both of those players suck."
But Rishid remained silent as he sat in the audience wearing the dark purple robes Malik had chosen for the two of them to wear during their stay at the finals. Duelists everywhere were coming to know that the Rare Hunters, these two Middle Eastern men, had the best supply of cards at reasonable prices relative to the rarity of each. The entrepreneurs known here as Mohammed and Khalid even had twelve completed Exodia decks, which they grudgingly sold to the highest bidders.
The Millennium Rod lay hidden in Malik's robes, and as Pegasus stood to have a young child take his place at the dueling arena, the Millennium Item passed a tingling sensation through its bearer's body.
"Interesting." Malik smirked, now finally noticing a patch of gold under the man's silvery hair. "So he is one of us too."
Rishid could not understand what Malik was speaking of. Pegasus J. Crawford was just a regular American as far as he could tell. "How do you know, master?"
Malik smirked, holding back laughter as the American dueling champion lost to a child that had just begun the game a few weeks prior. "He has an item like the Millennium Rod, though I doubt he truly knows how to harness its powers." Standing, Malik straightened his purple robes, hurrying down the stairs toward the vendor's area which would lead him to the rooms where Pegasus would be heading to before leaving for his palatial home.
Rishid could do nothing but follow the younger man as they walked through the stadium.
~*~*~*~*~
"Sir, two card dealers known as the Rare Hunters are here to see you. They claim to be from Egypt and know about certain attributes of Duel Monsters that you would be interested in knowing. Shall I let them in?"
Pegasus sighed as he swirled his glass of wine as he held it just above his dressing room table. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with game shop owners begging him to produce more cards, for he wasn't in the mood to create them.
"Send them in."
With the confirmation from his employer, the guard waved for Malik and Rishid to enter the dressing room before stepping outside, leaving the door open in case something were to happen.
"Thank you for your time Mr. Crawford." Malik smiled as he leaned against the opposite wall, Rishid standing straight next to him. "I was wondering how you came to possess a Millennium item."
Pegasus just smirked as he turned to face the two young men, amused that they knew the source of his supposed telepathy. "What is your name son?"
"Malik Ishtar, and this is my partner Rishid Ishtar."
"Do you have a sister named Isis?"
Malik narrowed his eyes, wondering how in the world Pegasus could know who his sister was. "Yes, I do. Does that matter?"
Pegasus just chuckled, sipping his wine. "You were three months old when I last saw you Malik. Your father was quite overjoyed to have a son of his own that he was more than willing to share his happiness by making other people's desires come true. I trust your sister has my cards in safe keeping still."
"Your cards?"
"Yes, my cards." Pegasus stated matter of factly. "I created the three God monsters for my own personal deck. Too bad the insignificant duelists that are around today could never have any hope of defeating an Egyptian God Card, so I hid them from thieves and the public."
The blond Egyptian smirked, turning around to show his back to Pegasus as he lifted his robes up, revealing the scars. "Is that what you made? Obelisk, Ra, and Osiris?"
"I called Osiris Slifer the Sky Dragon, but yes." Pegasus seemed in awe of the carving, as he stood from his seat to trail his fingers over the wounded skin. "Those are the three God monsters I created."
Stepping away from the two Egyptians, Pegasus walked over to the mirror and looked in to it, pulling his hair from his face to reveal the Millennium Eye. "Some man named Shaadi gave this to me. I don't know much more about it than it will help me find what I long for."
Malik just smirked as he straightened his robes, grabbing Rishid's arm and pulling him toward the exit. "Thank you for your time Mr. Crawford, but we need to return to our stand. The Rare Hunters don't exist without either of us at the booth."
~*~*~*~*~
Rishid stood in the kitchen of the small apartment that he had been sharing with Malik during their stay in the United States, microwaving what would be their dinner- two boxes of precooked stir fry that his young master had grown to love. And the best way to survive Malik's wrath was to not incur it, so eating microwave dinners and listening to him babble on and on about motorcycles was tolerable if he didn't want to be used over and over again.
Why couldn't he tell Malik no? No matter how much he would insist that he would stand up to the boy, Rishid could never find the heart to disappoint his young master in any way, even if it meant degrading himself.
"Hey Rishid," Malik yawned as he ran a hand through his messy hair, pulling it from his face. "I'm gonna go get my ears pierced, and you've gotta sign a release for me in this country. And I want you to get your tongue pierced."
Rishid sighed, pulling the two boxes of food from the microwave handing one to Malik, who grabbed a fork and stabbed the top, prying it off before he began scarfing down the contents.
"I don't want to get anything pierced."
Malik looked up, glaring at his elder brother. "You will do as I say, Rishid. Father made you my servant, and don't you forget that."
"So you're calling the voices in your head 'Father' now?"
Immediately, Rishid realized the folly of his words, as Malik had tossed his microwave dinner on the counter to pin him against the wall, holding the Millennium Rod's point at his neck. Apologizing now would not accomplish anything more than bringing a devious smirk to his young master's face, so Rishid hung his head awaiting the punishment he would receive for the negative comment.
Stepping back, Malik seemed disgusted by the whole situation. "You're worse than a woman Rishid. At least they fight back." Slipping the Rod back into his belt, Malik grabbed the keys to their rental car, looking over his shoulder. "As your master, I order you to come with me, and if you're good, you'll have the reward you've been waiting for ever since we arrived in this damned country."
Rishid did not show any emotion as he walked toward the door of the apartment, snatching the keys from the adolescent and leading him toward the car.
~*~*~*~*~
Snuggling against the bare chest of the taller man, Malik purred happily as he nipped Rishid's neck before settling his willowy form next to the more muscular young man, closing his eyes to drift off to a dreamless sleep.
"Master?" The elder whispered as he ran his fingers gently over the adolescent's bare back, resting his hand on the boy's thigh. Malik had been pleased tonight, and Rishid knew that now would be the best time to speak plainly without incurring the boy's wrath.
"Mmm.. What is it?"
"I wanna go back to Egypt."
"Me too." The blond trailed his tongue up his lover's neck as he pushed himself up to lean over the elder, tugging gently at Rishid's newly pierced ear and chuckling at the groan that the pain caused. "How could we be so ignorant to not figure that Isis would have the best deck in all of history? It's why she never wanted us to know anything about Duel Monsters."
Rishid just closed his eyes and smiled, laying placidly under the blond. "We couldn't sell the God cards. Most people would think that they are fakes, and the rest of the people would know that we steal the cards we sell if we stocked something so rare."
"I don't want to sell them." Malik smirked as he touched his lover's cheek, forcing Rishid to open his eyes. "I want to make a deck with them. We could go straight if we had cards like that, because who could stop me from winning? And besides, who better to control an Egyptian God than the reincarnation of the pharaoh?"
Rishid just chuckled, grabbing Malik's cheeks so he could bring the boy's head close to his own, kissing him on the forehead. "You're not the pharaoh Malik. You're just one of his servants."
"That remains to be proved." With a smirk Malik lay back down, curling up next to Rishid's side, draping an arm across the elder's chest. "I'll be the pharaoh, no matter what."
Malik: But you're a naïve Midwesterner that had to have 'deep throat' explained to you by your Senior Government teacher because you and your best friend were the only two that didn't laugh. . . .
*glares* That wasn't me that had it explained. . . .that was Debbie. And maybe people do think about kissing and sex at 10. I dunno, just I never did.
Same old disclaimers, same old everything. And like I said in the first chapter, each chapter could possibly stand alone, I'm just grouping them to make one happy Ishtar-family fic.
A year has passed between the previous chapter and this one, just so I don't confuse anyone.
~*~*~*~*~
Malik sat on a lower step of one of the many staircases that connected the streets to the houses in the city where he and Rishid had moved to after the voice had become too annoyed with Isis and her nagging about delivering a message to a nonexistent pharaoh. The ever-present sands of the desert around the oasis of the city swirled in the winds through the streets, causing most everyone to don the traditional garments of their land for protection, but Malik was fed up with traditions. He just would close his eyes when the winds blew so he could wear his colorful Western clothing, and today he had chosen a blood red hoodie which was pulled tight around his face and black vinyl pants to cover his legs. And as always, the Millennium Rod was at his side, tucked in to his belt so as to never lose his sacred possession.
Rishid should have been back by now with the sales from the cards Malik had stolen from the market a few weeks prior. It had become routine. Malik would go in to shops dressed as a teenage tourist and would grab rare, powerful cards one at a time, then Rishid would set up a stand where he could sell the cards for a lower price than the stores, still making quite a profit from the scam.
'You should punish him.'
Malik sighed, looking up at the setting sun. The voice was ever present, convincing the adolescent to perform many stupid acts of violence toward his servant. How many times had he raped Rishid due to the voice's urging to teach the elder humility? It was more than he could remember actually.
"We're going to have to move soon master. I think the police are starting to catch on to our game." Rishid offered a free hand to the younger man as he stood in front of him on a lower step, helping Malik up so they could walk up to their home together.
"I am not pleased Rishid." The adolescent growled as he yanked the money box from the elder's hands, counting the paper notes quickly as Rishid shut the door behind them. "Three hundred and seventy pounds only? You call that a day's work!?"
"Tourism has been down because of what happened in America, Master." Rishid sighed, pulling his robes off to sit on the couch, only wearing a pair of jeans. "They think all people from around here hate them, so they aren't coming as much."
Malik sighed as he filed the paper notes in to the box where the two kept their earnings from the card business they started, counting it up with the previous earnings they saved from the past seven months. "We have 23,370 Pounds after today saved up, so we should be able to go somewhere else and start out easy enough. Plane tickets will be about 8000 Pounds for the both of us, so we'll still have a decent chunk of money left over to start with.."
Leaning over to the minifridge that was near the couch, Rishid pulled a cool bottle of sparkling water out, watching the adolescent go over his notes about the business he had started. Malik was incredibly smart with such worldly matters as money and business, though the boy had only started in this game seven months ago. Malik had the face of an angel and a tongue like a double edged sword, the absolute necessity of this line of work.
"I read at the real game shop that there is going to be a Duel Monsters Tournament held in Los Angeles with a bunch of prize money. Think of what you could win with your skills."
Malik looked up from the charts he had been studying, smirking as he pondered his brother's words. "You know Rishid, you do have good ideas once in a while. We could make a fortune selling cards to those fools. All we'd need would be a few more pickpockets, and then all those duelists would lose their most prized cards and be forced to buy them back from us."
"That's not what I mean Malik." Rishid glared at the younger boy, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Let's be honest proprietors for once in our lives. I'm sick of this performance."
Rishid's head snapped to the side as the hard slap of Malik's hand pressed across his cheek. "Do not counter me Rishid. I will not tolerate such disobedience."
The elder sighed, standing up from his seat on the couch. "I'll go pack for our trip master."
~*~*~*~*~
"I wish you would've told me to enter." Malik yawned as he watched the duel going on between Bandit Keith, the North American champion, and Pegasus J. Crawford, the creator of Duel Monsters. "Both of those players suck."
But Rishid remained silent as he sat in the audience wearing the dark purple robes Malik had chosen for the two of them to wear during their stay at the finals. Duelists everywhere were coming to know that the Rare Hunters, these two Middle Eastern men, had the best supply of cards at reasonable prices relative to the rarity of each. The entrepreneurs known here as Mohammed and Khalid even had twelve completed Exodia decks, which they grudgingly sold to the highest bidders.
The Millennium Rod lay hidden in Malik's robes, and as Pegasus stood to have a young child take his place at the dueling arena, the Millennium Item passed a tingling sensation through its bearer's body.
"Interesting." Malik smirked, now finally noticing a patch of gold under the man's silvery hair. "So he is one of us too."
Rishid could not understand what Malik was speaking of. Pegasus J. Crawford was just a regular American as far as he could tell. "How do you know, master?"
Malik smirked, holding back laughter as the American dueling champion lost to a child that had just begun the game a few weeks prior. "He has an item like the Millennium Rod, though I doubt he truly knows how to harness its powers." Standing, Malik straightened his purple robes, hurrying down the stairs toward the vendor's area which would lead him to the rooms where Pegasus would be heading to before leaving for his palatial home.
Rishid could do nothing but follow the younger man as they walked through the stadium.
~*~*~*~*~
"Sir, two card dealers known as the Rare Hunters are here to see you. They claim to be from Egypt and know about certain attributes of Duel Monsters that you would be interested in knowing. Shall I let them in?"
Pegasus sighed as he swirled his glass of wine as he held it just above his dressing room table. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with game shop owners begging him to produce more cards, for he wasn't in the mood to create them.
"Send them in."
With the confirmation from his employer, the guard waved for Malik and Rishid to enter the dressing room before stepping outside, leaving the door open in case something were to happen.
"Thank you for your time Mr. Crawford." Malik smiled as he leaned against the opposite wall, Rishid standing straight next to him. "I was wondering how you came to possess a Millennium item."
Pegasus just smirked as he turned to face the two young men, amused that they knew the source of his supposed telepathy. "What is your name son?"
"Malik Ishtar, and this is my partner Rishid Ishtar."
"Do you have a sister named Isis?"
Malik narrowed his eyes, wondering how in the world Pegasus could know who his sister was. "Yes, I do. Does that matter?"
Pegasus just chuckled, sipping his wine. "You were three months old when I last saw you Malik. Your father was quite overjoyed to have a son of his own that he was more than willing to share his happiness by making other people's desires come true. I trust your sister has my cards in safe keeping still."
"Your cards?"
"Yes, my cards." Pegasus stated matter of factly. "I created the three God monsters for my own personal deck. Too bad the insignificant duelists that are around today could never have any hope of defeating an Egyptian God Card, so I hid them from thieves and the public."
The blond Egyptian smirked, turning around to show his back to Pegasus as he lifted his robes up, revealing the scars. "Is that what you made? Obelisk, Ra, and Osiris?"
"I called Osiris Slifer the Sky Dragon, but yes." Pegasus seemed in awe of the carving, as he stood from his seat to trail his fingers over the wounded skin. "Those are the three God monsters I created."
Stepping away from the two Egyptians, Pegasus walked over to the mirror and looked in to it, pulling his hair from his face to reveal the Millennium Eye. "Some man named Shaadi gave this to me. I don't know much more about it than it will help me find what I long for."
Malik just smirked as he straightened his robes, grabbing Rishid's arm and pulling him toward the exit. "Thank you for your time Mr. Crawford, but we need to return to our stand. The Rare Hunters don't exist without either of us at the booth."
~*~*~*~*~
Rishid stood in the kitchen of the small apartment that he had been sharing with Malik during their stay in the United States, microwaving what would be their dinner- two boxes of precooked stir fry that his young master had grown to love. And the best way to survive Malik's wrath was to not incur it, so eating microwave dinners and listening to him babble on and on about motorcycles was tolerable if he didn't want to be used over and over again.
Why couldn't he tell Malik no? No matter how much he would insist that he would stand up to the boy, Rishid could never find the heart to disappoint his young master in any way, even if it meant degrading himself.
"Hey Rishid," Malik yawned as he ran a hand through his messy hair, pulling it from his face. "I'm gonna go get my ears pierced, and you've gotta sign a release for me in this country. And I want you to get your tongue pierced."
Rishid sighed, pulling the two boxes of food from the microwave handing one to Malik, who grabbed a fork and stabbed the top, prying it off before he began scarfing down the contents.
"I don't want to get anything pierced."
Malik looked up, glaring at his elder brother. "You will do as I say, Rishid. Father made you my servant, and don't you forget that."
"So you're calling the voices in your head 'Father' now?"
Immediately, Rishid realized the folly of his words, as Malik had tossed his microwave dinner on the counter to pin him against the wall, holding the Millennium Rod's point at his neck. Apologizing now would not accomplish anything more than bringing a devious smirk to his young master's face, so Rishid hung his head awaiting the punishment he would receive for the negative comment.
Stepping back, Malik seemed disgusted by the whole situation. "You're worse than a woman Rishid. At least they fight back." Slipping the Rod back into his belt, Malik grabbed the keys to their rental car, looking over his shoulder. "As your master, I order you to come with me, and if you're good, you'll have the reward you've been waiting for ever since we arrived in this damned country."
Rishid did not show any emotion as he walked toward the door of the apartment, snatching the keys from the adolescent and leading him toward the car.
~*~*~*~*~
Snuggling against the bare chest of the taller man, Malik purred happily as he nipped Rishid's neck before settling his willowy form next to the more muscular young man, closing his eyes to drift off to a dreamless sleep.
"Master?" The elder whispered as he ran his fingers gently over the adolescent's bare back, resting his hand on the boy's thigh. Malik had been pleased tonight, and Rishid knew that now would be the best time to speak plainly without incurring the boy's wrath.
"Mmm.. What is it?"
"I wanna go back to Egypt."
"Me too." The blond trailed his tongue up his lover's neck as he pushed himself up to lean over the elder, tugging gently at Rishid's newly pierced ear and chuckling at the groan that the pain caused. "How could we be so ignorant to not figure that Isis would have the best deck in all of history? It's why she never wanted us to know anything about Duel Monsters."
Rishid just closed his eyes and smiled, laying placidly under the blond. "We couldn't sell the God cards. Most people would think that they are fakes, and the rest of the people would know that we steal the cards we sell if we stocked something so rare."
"I don't want to sell them." Malik smirked as he touched his lover's cheek, forcing Rishid to open his eyes. "I want to make a deck with them. We could go straight if we had cards like that, because who could stop me from winning? And besides, who better to control an Egyptian God than the reincarnation of the pharaoh?"
Rishid just chuckled, grabbing Malik's cheeks so he could bring the boy's head close to his own, kissing him on the forehead. "You're not the pharaoh Malik. You're just one of his servants."
"That remains to be proved." With a smirk Malik lay back down, curling up next to Rishid's side, draping an arm across the elder's chest. "I'll be the pharaoh, no matter what."