Coming of Age
AN: So our lovely story-time together is coming to a close. But fret not, various bonus chappies are planned. If you have ideas you'd like to see, all you gotta do is review and tell me what you want. Plans include Mokuba's first date. And there is one little thing you should know before reading; when Bakura talks about wishes keep in mind that in the manga his Yami said "instead of paying rent I grant your wishes." Oh, and this chapter includes a lemon. Thus begins the final, tenth chapter: Schizophrenic Lover(s).
Fury drove Mokuba to race up the steps, snarl at the unfortunate maid Mimi (looking more and more perplexed as her young employer's birthday party got even stranger), and hurry to his own bedroom. He slammed the door, wishing the house wasn't so large; there wasn't a chance in hell Seto had heard the resounding crash. What the fuck is wrong with them? Mokuba felt like smashing something, hurling fragile and surprisingly expensive things at the walls. He wanted Seto to hurt (even if it was just his pocketbook). And that scared him.
"It's not fair! It's not right!" Mokuba wailed. Then he sat down in the middle of the floor and cried. Not loudly, just a low moan punctuated by the occasional sniffle. Mokuba hated crying; it made his face feel puffy and sore. When he felt like if he kept it up he'd rub his face raw Mokuba wiped his nose with his sleeve and stood, moving to his desk. From its depths he pulled the make-up Tea and Serenity had bought him.
The tearstained boy could not have explained his actions to an onlooker. There was an instinct to cover up the evidence of his tears and to prevent more. Mokuba had the strangest feeling he wouldn't risk ruining his mascara by crying. He applied everything carefully, remembering how Serenity had done it at the mall. When he was finished he looked into the mirror. A young girl with large, sad eyes looked back. Perhaps I went too heavy on the eye-liner; I look like a freaking Goth, Mokuba mused. But he liked it.
From the back of his closet Mokuba fished out a fluffy black skirt, a Moi-même-Moitié knock off. He gathered up a pair of black stockings, a ruffled black blouse, and the necisary undergarments. Pulling them on piece by piece he paused after each new addition to examine himself in the mirror. Mokuba would have sworn he was watching a pretty, though oddly flat chested girl get dressed up to go to Harajuku. When it was completed, Mokuba stood in front of his mirror. He felt pretty and happy- truly happy for the first time in days.
"Mokuba?" came a soft voice from the bed.
The effeminately clad boy jumped into the air, letting out a loud shriek. Spinning about as soon as his feet regained contact with the floor, Mokuba confronted the intruder. It was a sleepy, tousled, confused Bakura, propping himself up from Mokuba's pillows.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" Mokuba asked, completely nonplussed.
"Tea said I fainted and you guys brought me up here." The pale boy said uncertainly. Mokuba frowned. There was no way Tea could carry him all by herself. Bakura was either lying or Tea had bribed a random guard to help her. In both cases, someone was in trouble.
"I got lost when I went looking for water. Tea found me and brought me back, but other than that I've been asleep." Bakura said, trying to sooth the obviously ruffled Mokuba. Instead, Mokuba got visibly angrier.
Just how stupid do you have to be to not notice that you're in an entirely different room than you started in? Mokuba wondered. Then something inside him relented. A tired, half-conscious person wouldn't notice anything but the bed. Meanwhile Bakura was chattering nervously.
"And I never did find the kitchen to get a glass of water." he finished, ending a long story Mokuba had not been paying attention to (AN: and thus, dear reader, you will not learn).
"Oh. Let me get you some." Mokuba went to his mini-fridge (it was too much off a hassle to go all the way down to the kitchen for simple snacks) and grabbed a water bottle. Bakura took it with a smile of thanks. Mokuba started to smile back and faltered. There were two reasons for this: one, Bakura looked very good sleep-tousled and two, his smile was becoming a wicked smirk. The eyes were changed as well; they looked harsh and some what wild. It was just like when Seto choked him.
"Bakura?"
"Come here." Bakura patted the edge of the bed. Mokuba wasn't inclined to trust him, but he didn't want to look rude. So he perched on the edge of the bed.
"Where are the others?" asked Bakura, tracing the coverlet's pattern with a long finger. Mokuba's eyes locked onto the motion.
"Down at the pool. Except Tea, she's probably wandering around causing more havoc. Or ogling the naked boys in the pool." the younger teen explained, mesmerized by the pale finger gliding over his blanket.
"Ah. Mokuba..." The finger stopped tracing and the hand it belonged to moved up to Mokuba's face, brushing aside dark hair. Bakura leaned close. "You are aware you're wearing a skirt, right?"
Mokuba reddened. The question seemed coy, nothing like what Bakura would have said. He'd have ignored it, Mokuba thought dizzily as Bakura ran graceful hands through his pale hair. Or would have complimented me. But why shouldn't I wear a skirt? I look good.
"Yes." the younger teen said stiffly. Bakura smiled that evil smile again.
"Just checking. It looks good." And warm lips closed over Mokuba's own.
It was not like the kiss he had received from the same source merely hours before. It was not sweet and gentle. It was rough and demanding... and arousing. The anger and grief Mokuba felt towards his brother seemed to be siphoning off into the kiss, urging him to return the brutal force of it. Arms wrapped around him to drag him closer to the white haired boy administering this encounter. Mokuba's thoughts were furious and rapidly wearing a hole in his skull, since they seemed to be pacing back and forth.
This is it, this is my choice, my chance to strike back. Seto can't have me. No one can have me after this. No one but Bakura will ever touch me. This is it.
Bakura hauled the smaller teen on to the bed and lifted the fluffy skirt up. Slender hands pulled the panties down. Bakura smiled.
"Black lace. How classy." he said teasingly.
"You can thank Serenity and Tea. They bought me all this." Mokuba explained, blushing. His naked butt was exposed (plus various other, very erect body parts located in that general area) and he had just kissed this handsome, sexy, attractive, but undeniably male person. There is something very wrong with me.
"I'll be sure to express my gratitude later." Bakura said, giving Mokuba another kiss. He hesitated for a moment. Mokuba watched his eyes change again. They were still the cruel eyes, but they looked unsure.
"You won't be mad at me for this later, right?" Mokuba almost laughed.
"I consent, I agree, if I regret this I'm entirely to blame. No, I won't be mad."
"Ah. Good." And with that Bakura reached into his pocket and procured a container of K-Y and a condom (Mokuba, recalling the iPod, wondered if Bakura carried his life in his pockets). He undid his pants and prepared himself as Mokuba watched with a horrified fascination. That's going to go in me! This will hurt!
It hurt, though not particularly badly. There was a dull stinging, a sense of stretching, a burning warmth. Then Bakura started to thrust and it all stopped, replaced by intense pleasure. Mokuba gasped as Bakura laughed loudly. Suddenly the laughter stopped, as did the movement.
"Mokuba?" a soft voice whispered. "What-"
Bakura's eyes looked soft again, and he'd lost that insane grin. He appeared confused, then angry.
"What the bloody hell did you do!" he demanded, looking to his left. Mokuba got the distinct impression he wasn't the one Bakura was addressing, though the room was otherwise empty. There was a long silence as Bakura's pale face flushed. Mokuba tried not to wriggle as he felt himself tightening again.
"I never wished... fine. Scat." Bakura looked furious and Mokuba had the good sense not to question him. It's fine, your new lover is just a little schizophrenic, after all, he thought philosophically as they began their lovemaking again. No one's perfect.
Soft bursts of white were appearing in the younger boy's sight and then a moment of blankness. Something warm and sticky was covering his abdomen and he felt a gentle ache as Bakura removed himself, collapsing beside him on the bed.
"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asked breathlessly. Mokuba shook his head mutely, completely forgetting the initial pain.
"You were... willing, right?" Mokuba thought this an odd question, but nodded the affirmative.
"Oh, good. I might have killed him if you weren't." Mokuba deemed it best to overlook that comment. He was tired, Bakura was warm, and he was just drifting off to sleep when the door opened.
"Alone, my ass!" Seto cried. "Bakura, have you been deflowering my baby brother this whole time?"
"Yes."Bakura said flatly, perking up enough to pull off the used condom.
"I thought we agreed men couldn't be deflowered." Duke complained.
"So what, men just don't have a virginity to begin with?" asked Mai acidly.
"Oh my God, Mokuba, we have to soak that skirt immediately, you got semen all over it, it'll stain if we don't rinse it." Tea cried. "Serenity, help me get this off him."
"No way. You get it off, I scrub." Serenity said with her face buried in her hands. Joey was laughing and collecting another ten dollars off of Tristan.
"How was I supposed to guess? You had us all fooled, Mokuba, but I guess you're a queer, too." Tristan sighed, paying with a resigned face.
"Were you really alone or did you get some... help?" Yugi asked Bakura in an undertone.
"We got help. Everyone helped." Bakura said, smiling happily. Then he threw a pillow at the intruders. "Go away, I'm tired."
As the others driftedaway and Bakura snuggled closer Mokuba thought with resignation I guess that's that. I'll never be able to explain it away. Bakura began to snore and Mokuba couldn't help but smile. There are worse things in the world than being gay. Like incest. Even if Seto is really hot, Bakura's much more... interesting.