This is a one-shot. It is mainly about Thiefshipping (Bakura x Malik), a personal favorite of mine. But, so is anything having to do with Malik, Yami Malik, Ryou, Bakura, or Jounouchi. Yay! Enjoy!
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Heat waves radiated from the scorching sidewalk. Malik wiped the sweat from his brow. He could not stand this heat. It was unbearable. He ducked into a thrift store around the corner. An air conditioner cooled the room. Malik sighed in relief. All he need from this place was some milk, but the cold temperature was so nice. Yami Malik had used it all when trying to make a new kind of martini. Malik had to spend a part of an hour trying to explain that it would not work. Yami Malik just shrugged and went off to wash his vodka soaked clothes.
Malik frowned with frustration at his yami's ignorance. How could they live together? He quickly purchased a half-gallon of moo juice and left. The walk home was far. A constant thirst lingered at his throat. Malik decided to stop by Bakura's apartment. Maybe he could surprise his boyfriend.
Bakura had given him a key a while ago so that they could live together. They tried it out for a couple months. It had not worked. Malik got tired of Ryou constant girlish flirting with his yami. It was disgusting. Also, Yami Malik bitched about him not being around anyone. Yami Malik treated him like a personal plaything.
He quietly knocked on Bakura's door. The sound of bare feet padded to the doorway. Bakura creaked it open. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Um, it's burning outside and I am bored. Do I really have to give you a reason, or are you just not happy to see me?" Malik asked. Bakura grabbed his arm and pulled him in. They awkwardly hugged, something the robber was not used to still. "What do you want to do?"
"Well," Bakura answered, "Ryou's out somewhere. So, the bedroom is open." He smiled devilishly. Malik ran into the room and jumped on the bed. He flipped around beckoning Bakura to join him with his finger. Bakura pounced. They began kissing wildly. Malik rolled on top off his lover and began to nibble his ear. Bakura panted. Malik thanked the lord that Ryou was not there right then. They could be alone.
Bakura sat up and rebuttoned his shirt. Malik had pulled it open and had popped one of the buttons off. He disregarded this and stood up. "I have to go. You know I have a job interview."
Malik looked up at him with puppy eyes. "Do you have to go? You can get a better job than at fast food place."
"I need to go."
Malik grumble and slipped off the bed. He picked up his shirt from the floor and walked out apartment. The bag with the milk lied against the wall outside the door. Malik picked it up reluctantly and walked to the elevator.
He finally made it home. The key felt warm in his sweaty palm. A chill hit his face as he opened the door. Yami Malik had left the fan on too high again. Malik stepped in and threw the milk into the fridge. He picked up the trash that was scattered over the table. Where was the slob?
Malik walked over to his bedroom and opened the door. The dim light in the room revealed Yami Malik's backward form sitting on the bed. "Yami?" Malik wondered. Yami Malik did not move. Malik reached over to flick on the light. Then, he noticed that his yami was sitting on something. Slowly, he silently moved closer. It was Ryou.
He was laying flat and straight among the covers. His head was bent back into the pillows. Malik could tell he was biting his from pain. All over his skin were slits: on his neck, arms, legs, and even a long cut carved around his cheek. Malik's eyes widened. He looked up at Yami Malik. His position over Ryou was frightening. He sat on Ryou with a dagger held in his hand inches from the boy's stomach. Yami Malik finally noticed Malik.
He turned around and looked at Malik's silhouette in the door. "Hello," he smirked. Yami Malik turned back around and bent over Ryou. All of the boy's clothes were lying on the floor. He had only boxers on. (AN: Naked Ryou. Mmmm ...) Leather bounds tied his wrist and ankles to the bedposts. He struggled to get free as Yami Malik pressed his blade onto the skin of his abdomen. The yami drew a crude Y. Yami Malik licked the wound. Malik snapped back into the horrible reality.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted. Malik ran up to his yami and grabbed the knife from him. He cut through the thick leather. Ryou sat up. His face was salt streaked from tears. He fell off of the mattress and stumbled to the door. His whole body was covered with his own blood. Malik flinched at the sight. Ryou grabbed his pants and loped out of the room.
Malik turned his attention back to Yami Malik. "What were you doing to him?" Malik demanded.
"Well, my hikari," he cooed, "he came over to find you. I decided to play ... a game ... with him. The poor child is so afraid of me. He did whatever I said."
Malik glared at him. "You can't just hurt him like that?"
"Why, because he's your boyfriend's toy?"
"He's not a toy!"
Yami Malik waved his hand at him, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. "Whatever." He stood up and slid his dagger into his belt. "I'm leaving." Yami Malik walked out the door and slammed it shut behind him. Anger and frustration flared in Malik's mind. But, what could he do? It was Yami Malik.
The time was late and Malik had to go to bed. He had to sleep next to his yami's. It was blood stained and still had the leather bounds hanging from it. Malik shuttered. He slept deep and his dreams included Yami Malik. They were where Malik sat in a chair while watching Yami Malik molesting poor Ryou. He cut him and lapped up the boy's blood and tears. Malik did nothing to help. He just watched. In the morning, he awake with a loud gasp. His whole body felt a chilling cold even though it was hot in his room. Yami Malik's bed was empty, still untouched from the night before. Malik quickly shook off the memory. He needed to get dressed for work.
Malik worked at a bookstore. (AN: Sorry, I use that job a lot. It's all I can think of!) He despised each of the minimum wage hours he did. A job was not his thing. He needed money, although he had no idea of where Yami Malik got his cash. Probably from drugs or pimping. Or, maybe he was a mafia man. Malik laughed to himself. He neared the store when a hand suddenly forced him to a wall. After his shock wore off, he saw who it was. Just Bakura. His eyes burned with pure anger as he glared at Malik. Pain stung Malik's arm as his boyfriend drove his hand into his shoulder. "Ouch," Malik uttered.
"What the hell happened last night?" Bakura shouted. "Ryou came home covered in blood. He was crying his eyes out. It took half and hour just to calm him down. Then, he tells me that your yami cut him all up and raped him." He rage over took his body. Bakura pushed his face inches away from Malik's.
"Wait, it's my fault? How? I didn't do it. I was the one who stopped it, and you're yelling at me?" He puts his hands on Bakura and pushed him hard. Bakura's face was red with fury.
"Don't you dare blame me! My Ryou was hurt and you just stand back and stare. You can't even control your yami!"
"'My Ryou'? 'Your yami'? We don't own them. I should not have to control him like you try to control Ryou!" Malik yelled.
"You know what? I think I have figured it out," Bakura sneered. "You won't stand up to Yami Malik because you are afraid of him! Am I right?"
Thousands of angry comebacks floated around in Malik's mind. But, all he said was, "Fine! Go back to your wonderful Ryou. Have fun with the little shit!" Bakura turned and stomped away.
Malik and Bakura never saw each other again. Like a puppy, Malik stupidly pled for forgiveness, even though he had no idea of what he had done wrong. Bakura refused to reply. Malik knew that he was cuddling with his hikari as they listened to the pathetic begging on the answering machine. They would probably laugh together.
Yami Malik was almost never around. His empty alcohol bottle were the only signs that he had ever been there. Malik would sit alone on his bed. He felt so lost. "Why did you have to get so mad at me?" he whispered to himself. "You know I can't hurt you. I love you. And, you loved me ... I think."
Malik had to one to turn to now. Now, he really did feel like a toy. He was everybody's toy to play with and made to do whatever his puppeteer pleased. Malik pulled his knees to his chest and began to sob. It hurt that Bakura had said he was afraid of Yami Malik. Because, in reality, he was right.
-The End-
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I enjoy writing that. I could swear that this is my first serious story where no ones dies. That's weird. I am weird. Review. Gwat!
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Heat waves radiated from the scorching sidewalk. Malik wiped the sweat from his brow. He could not stand this heat. It was unbearable. He ducked into a thrift store around the corner. An air conditioner cooled the room. Malik sighed in relief. All he need from this place was some milk, but the cold temperature was so nice. Yami Malik had used it all when trying to make a new kind of martini. Malik had to spend a part of an hour trying to explain that it would not work. Yami Malik just shrugged and went off to wash his vodka soaked clothes.
Malik frowned with frustration at his yami's ignorance. How could they live together? He quickly purchased a half-gallon of moo juice and left. The walk home was far. A constant thirst lingered at his throat. Malik decided to stop by Bakura's apartment. Maybe he could surprise his boyfriend.
Bakura had given him a key a while ago so that they could live together. They tried it out for a couple months. It had not worked. Malik got tired of Ryou constant girlish flirting with his yami. It was disgusting. Also, Yami Malik bitched about him not being around anyone. Yami Malik treated him like a personal plaything.
He quietly knocked on Bakura's door. The sound of bare feet padded to the doorway. Bakura creaked it open. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Um, it's burning outside and I am bored. Do I really have to give you a reason, or are you just not happy to see me?" Malik asked. Bakura grabbed his arm and pulled him in. They awkwardly hugged, something the robber was not used to still. "What do you want to do?"
"Well," Bakura answered, "Ryou's out somewhere. So, the bedroom is open." He smiled devilishly. Malik ran into the room and jumped on the bed. He flipped around beckoning Bakura to join him with his finger. Bakura pounced. They began kissing wildly. Malik rolled on top off his lover and began to nibble his ear. Bakura panted. Malik thanked the lord that Ryou was not there right then. They could be alone.
Bakura sat up and rebuttoned his shirt. Malik had pulled it open and had popped one of the buttons off. He disregarded this and stood up. "I have to go. You know I have a job interview."
Malik looked up at him with puppy eyes. "Do you have to go? You can get a better job than at fast food place."
"I need to go."
Malik grumble and slipped off the bed. He picked up his shirt from the floor and walked out apartment. The bag with the milk lied against the wall outside the door. Malik picked it up reluctantly and walked to the elevator.
He finally made it home. The key felt warm in his sweaty palm. A chill hit his face as he opened the door. Yami Malik had left the fan on too high again. Malik stepped in and threw the milk into the fridge. He picked up the trash that was scattered over the table. Where was the slob?
Malik walked over to his bedroom and opened the door. The dim light in the room revealed Yami Malik's backward form sitting on the bed. "Yami?" Malik wondered. Yami Malik did not move. Malik reached over to flick on the light. Then, he noticed that his yami was sitting on something. Slowly, he silently moved closer. It was Ryou.
He was laying flat and straight among the covers. His head was bent back into the pillows. Malik could tell he was biting his from pain. All over his skin were slits: on his neck, arms, legs, and even a long cut carved around his cheek. Malik's eyes widened. He looked up at Yami Malik. His position over Ryou was frightening. He sat on Ryou with a dagger held in his hand inches from the boy's stomach. Yami Malik finally noticed Malik.
He turned around and looked at Malik's silhouette in the door. "Hello," he smirked. Yami Malik turned back around and bent over Ryou. All of the boy's clothes were lying on the floor. He had only boxers on. (AN: Naked Ryou. Mmmm ...) Leather bounds tied his wrist and ankles to the bedposts. He struggled to get free as Yami Malik pressed his blade onto the skin of his abdomen. The yami drew a crude Y. Yami Malik licked the wound. Malik snapped back into the horrible reality.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted. Malik ran up to his yami and grabbed the knife from him. He cut through the thick leather. Ryou sat up. His face was salt streaked from tears. He fell off of the mattress and stumbled to the door. His whole body was covered with his own blood. Malik flinched at the sight. Ryou grabbed his pants and loped out of the room.
Malik turned his attention back to Yami Malik. "What were you doing to him?" Malik demanded.
"Well, my hikari," he cooed, "he came over to find you. I decided to play ... a game ... with him. The poor child is so afraid of me. He did whatever I said."
Malik glared at him. "You can't just hurt him like that?"
"Why, because he's your boyfriend's toy?"
"He's not a toy!"
Yami Malik waved his hand at him, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. "Whatever." He stood up and slid his dagger into his belt. "I'm leaving." Yami Malik walked out the door and slammed it shut behind him. Anger and frustration flared in Malik's mind. But, what could he do? It was Yami Malik.
The time was late and Malik had to go to bed. He had to sleep next to his yami's. It was blood stained and still had the leather bounds hanging from it. Malik shuttered. He slept deep and his dreams included Yami Malik. They were where Malik sat in a chair while watching Yami Malik molesting poor Ryou. He cut him and lapped up the boy's blood and tears. Malik did nothing to help. He just watched. In the morning, he awake with a loud gasp. His whole body felt a chilling cold even though it was hot in his room. Yami Malik's bed was empty, still untouched from the night before. Malik quickly shook off the memory. He needed to get dressed for work.
Malik worked at a bookstore. (AN: Sorry, I use that job a lot. It's all I can think of!) He despised each of the minimum wage hours he did. A job was not his thing. He needed money, although he had no idea of where Yami Malik got his cash. Probably from drugs or pimping. Or, maybe he was a mafia man. Malik laughed to himself. He neared the store when a hand suddenly forced him to a wall. After his shock wore off, he saw who it was. Just Bakura. His eyes burned with pure anger as he glared at Malik. Pain stung Malik's arm as his boyfriend drove his hand into his shoulder. "Ouch," Malik uttered.
"What the hell happened last night?" Bakura shouted. "Ryou came home covered in blood. He was crying his eyes out. It took half and hour just to calm him down. Then, he tells me that your yami cut him all up and raped him." He rage over took his body. Bakura pushed his face inches away from Malik's.
"Wait, it's my fault? How? I didn't do it. I was the one who stopped it, and you're yelling at me?" He puts his hands on Bakura and pushed him hard. Bakura's face was red with fury.
"Don't you dare blame me! My Ryou was hurt and you just stand back and stare. You can't even control your yami!"
"'My Ryou'? 'Your yami'? We don't own them. I should not have to control him like you try to control Ryou!" Malik yelled.
"You know what? I think I have figured it out," Bakura sneered. "You won't stand up to Yami Malik because you are afraid of him! Am I right?"
Thousands of angry comebacks floated around in Malik's mind. But, all he said was, "Fine! Go back to your wonderful Ryou. Have fun with the little shit!" Bakura turned and stomped away.
Malik and Bakura never saw each other again. Like a puppy, Malik stupidly pled for forgiveness, even though he had no idea of what he had done wrong. Bakura refused to reply. Malik knew that he was cuddling with his hikari as they listened to the pathetic begging on the answering machine. They would probably laugh together.
Yami Malik was almost never around. His empty alcohol bottle were the only signs that he had ever been there. Malik would sit alone on his bed. He felt so lost. "Why did you have to get so mad at me?" he whispered to himself. "You know I can't hurt you. I love you. And, you loved me ... I think."
Malik had to one to turn to now. Now, he really did feel like a toy. He was everybody's toy to play with and made to do whatever his puppeteer pleased. Malik pulled his knees to his chest and began to sob. It hurt that Bakura had said he was afraid of Yami Malik. Because, in reality, he was right.
-The End-
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I enjoy writing that. I could swear that this is my first serious story where no ones dies. That's weird. I am weird. Review. Gwat!