-runsinscreaming- I GOT IT BACK I GOT IT BACK!
AND GUESS WHAT ELSE? I'M ON SUMMER HOLIDAYS! XDD
This story will be done in two weeks, maximum. I promise.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Bakura gritted his teeth, raising his eyes heavenward. Come on Ryou, get out of the damn shower! I need to use the bathroom. He sighed, drawing his knees closer to his chest. What the hell is wrong with me? It had happened again. Bakura was flicking through the channels where something had… caught his eye. He had watched the somewhat raunchy movie for almost ten minutes before he realized his mistake. Why do I keep getting aroused all the frigging time? This is crazy... I've jacked off more in the past month than I have for... Well, ever. Mind you, back then, I got laid. Not it's just… I don't know. The desire's there, but who? I'm not going to hire some cheap whore. There's no real pleasure in that. All I need to make all of this okay again is a good long fuck. Bakura looked down at the floor, biting his lip. But what are the changes of that? For Godssake Ryou, hurry up!
"Bakura?" The yami blinked, and lifted his head. Ryou shut the door behind him and blinked. "Did you want the bathroom?" Bakura's mouth fell open at the sight of a shirtless Ryou dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel. His arousal throbbed painfully. I know, I know! I'm getting to it! Ryou was not helping.
"Yeah." Bakura said gruffly, but didn't move, his long legs still folded against his chest to hide his swollen crotch. Ryou frowned, and tilted his head to the side.
"Well…" He blinked in confusion. "A-Aren't you going to go then?" Bakura growled, and bared his canines.
"Look, do you want to get a cold? Go and get frigging dressed." Ryou sighed, and nodded, turning and heading into the bedroom. Bakura immediately scampered towards the bathroom, and locked the door, unzipping his pants. Fucking hell. This has got to stop.
"Hey." Bakura held the door open for Marik as he walked inside the apartment, lugging a backpack behind him. "How're you?"
"Been better." The Egyptian muttered, dumping the bag on the floor and slumping into the couch. "Can't believe Isis kicked me out." Bakura rolled his eyes, closing the door with his foot. "And I didn't even do anything."
"From what I hear, you broke a priceless porcelain vase." Bakura said dryly, slouching into the adjacent sofa. "I think she was looking for an excuse to have a vacation tonight." Marik pulled a face. "Remember. One night, no longer. Ryou is going to kill me as it is." The Egyptian chuckled lowly.
"He's got you wrapped around his little finger." Marik remarked. Bakura narrowed his eyes and growled. "What? He does. When are you going to swallow your pride and say you have a thing for him?" The yami only shot Marik a glare.
"Don't." He muttered, before leaning over to the coffee table and grasping his carton of cigarettes. "I walk all over the brat. He's the one wrapped around my little finger. I don't like him either. He's only hot, and recently, that's getting worse, because-"
"Because what?" Marik sat up and leaned forward, his interest sparked. "Anything you want to tell me about, Bakura?" The Egyptian yami offered. Bakura sighed, and looked up at the ceiling.
"I don't know." He admitted, biting his lip. "I'm getting these… Really weird feelings. I don't know what they are, but…"
"But?" Marik pressed, his interest fully lit by now. "I won't tell anyone. Who the hell am I going to tell anyway?" Bakura scowled, and looked down.
"Well.. I'm having these thoughts about… Well… Pretty um, sexy thoughts. And I don't know what's wrong with me! They're not about anyone in particular, I just…"
"You wanna get laid?" Marik suggested, grinning. Bakura's eyes widened, and he nodded, scowling. "Bakura…" The Egyptian sighed. "Have you ever been laid? In this life I mean." Bakura busied himself lighting a cigarette. "Bakura?"
"No, all right!" Bakura exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I haven't ever been laid. Is that what you want to hear?" He sighed, the cigarette dangling between long bony fingers. "I'm not going to screw some whore I don't know, and Ryou is…"
"Is?" Marik raised an eyebrow. Bakura sighed, taking another drag of the cancer stick.
"I don't know." Bakura rubbed at his forehead. "I'd like to fuck him, for sure, but… I mean, it's Ryou. He's untouchable in his own right. Every time I lay a finger on him, I feel like I'm… staining him. And besides, the kid's still a virgin. He thinks sex is this sweet lovey-dovey stuff with candles and shit. He wont do it for years, I can tell." Marik bit his lip in thought.
"What about Malik?" The yami offered. Bakura froze in the middle of taking another drag, his mouth falling open.
"What about Malik?" Bakura asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. Marik only grinned suggestively. "Are you saying I… screw him?" He asked incredulously. "Malik?"
"Well…" Marik shrugged. "He's good, if you know what I mean. And even you said he was hot. It's not like he's never screwed anyone before, and I'll let you have him for a night. It'll make you feel better, I promise." Bakura took another drag of the cigarette, deep in thought.
"I dunno." Bakura said thoughtfully. "Ryou might-" He stopped himself. I don't care about what the boy thinks.
"Yeah. Okay then."
"Oooh, I'm beat." Ryou sighed as he hung his coat up and kicked off his shoes, just as he did every day. He blinked however as he stood in the entrance to the living room. "What on earth?" Bakura was lying, stretched out on the armchair, his legs dangling over one side and a cigarette dangling from long bony fingers. Marik was sprawled out along the battered maroon couch, staring up at the ceiling. Malik was sitting on the floor of the living room, his legs pulled up to his chest, looking somewhat… scared? "Bakura!"
"Oh." The yami muttered, flicking his gaze up to Ryou, and then to the television screen. "Hi." Ryou rolled his eyes, and folded his arms.
"Why are these two nutcases here?" The whitenette gestured to the Egyptians in question. Malik looked up, slightly hurt, and Marik chuckled under his breath.
"Aren't you polite." Bakura muttered, sitting up properly and taking a drag of his cigarette. "Marik got kicked out for pissing off Isis so he's staying here tonight. Malik's gonna be here too." Ryou almost stamped his foot.
"And you didn't even ask me about this?" The teenager demanded. Bakura snorted, and stood up. "Y-You didn't even consider about what I wanted to do?"
"Huh." The yami faced Ryou. Even though he was only a couple of inches taller than the light, he still seemed to tower over him. Ryou whimpered, and shrank away. His cheek still stung slightly if he touched it. "What are you going to do, hm?"
"I-I…" Ryou glared at Bakura for a long moment, but then slumped in defeat, and sighed. "I'm going to go and make dinner." He whispered, lowering his eyes. Bakura smiled in satisfaction, exhaling a cloud of smoke into Ryou's face.
"Good boy." He said patronizingly, patting Ryou on the head. The teenager resisted the urge to growl, and headed into the kitchen. STOP TREATING ME LIKE THIS! Ryou leaned his forehead against the fridge. I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO DESERVE THIS, BUT YOU TREAT ME LIKE CRAP! YOU TREAT ME LIKE CRAP AND I HATE HATE HATE IT! The whitenette continued to scream to himself, suppressing tears. WHY THE HELL DO YOU DO THIS? WHY DO YOU TREAT ME LIKE I'M SOME ANIMAL? WHY… Ryou couldn't help but let out a choked sob, and leaned his thin frame against the refrigerator.
"Ryou?" The teenager froze, and spun around, his soft features softening when he stared at Malik, who stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?" Ryou sniffed, but finally nodded, and rubbed hurriedly at his eyes before opening the door.
"F-Fine." Ryou looked inside the fridge. "I-I'll be okay Malik…" He swallowed. "I-I just he wouldn't treat me like trash." He murmured. Ryou jumped slightly as a hand was placed on his shoulder, and turned around, looking up into sympathetic lavender eyes.
"I know." The blonde whispered. "I-I get it home as well…" Malik sighed. "Isis is that one that cooks and cleans the place, so that means Marik finds… Other uses for me." He finished with a shudder. Ryou sighed, chocolate eyes wide and sympathetic.
"I'm really sorry." Ryou said softly, closing the door and leaning against the metal. "B-Bakura has this weird thing about even laying a finger on me." He raised his orbs to the ceiling. "He'd never go that far… I mean, I know he has urges, but he'd never act on them…" Ryou finished, somewhat doubtfully.
"Not with you." Malik breathed under his breath, a fresh wave of fear coursing through his veins. He didn't care if Marik was going to give him forty percent, he didn't want to go through with this at all… Who did? First, Marik insists that the boy was his 'own personal little whore', and now, he was selling him to Bakura?
"Did you say something?" Ryou blinked in slight confusion. Malik swallowed, and shook his head, forcing back tears.
"No. Didn't say anything…"
Ryou frowned, staring down at his mattress on the living room floor. He was still confused as to why he had to move his makeshift bed into the other room, but seeing the flash in Bakura's eyes, didn't question it. Tucking his legs under his slim frame, Ryou leaned against the wall, curled up in the corner of the living room, as far from Marik as he could possibly could. There was no way around it, the yami scared him.
"A-Are you going to be watching the T.V that loud all night?" Ryou inquired meekly, trying not to look at Marik, who chuckled darkly, his arms behind his head.
"Trust me kid, you'll be wanting the volume up later." The yami laughed softly again, as if in some private joke. Ryou narrowed his eyes slightly, but bit his lip, and returned his eyes to the book in his left hand, suspicious and uncomfortable. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight with him here… And I have work tomorrow... This isn't good. Why me. Honestly, why me? Why did Yugi get to have the good Yami? Although he certainly didn't get the most attractive...
"Oi!" Marik called out to the boy. "I'm talking to you kid!" Ryou snapped his head up from his book, eyes wide and confused. "That's better." He lifted his head. "Gemme a beer from the fridge, would ya?" Ryou raised an eyebrow.
"Why?" He murmured, forgetting quite who he was talking to. "I'm not your slave." Marik growled dangerously in the back of his throat, and glared at the young boy with angry amethyst eyes.
"What did you say?" He asked lowly, his voice quiet and dangerous. Ryou squeaked, and shut his book. He jumped up off of his mattress, and almost ran into the kitchen, grabbing the beer from the fridge and scampering back to the waiting yami.
"H-Here." He stammered weakly, handing Marik the bottle. He smirked in approval, and patted Ryou's fluffy head. The teenager growled under his breath, and gritted his teeth.
"Good servant." Marik smiled as Ryou almost stomped back to his mattress and sat down folding his arms. "Although…" He muttered, taking a swig of the liquid. "I must say, you're quite a rebellious little slave."
"I'm not a slave." The whitenette muttered, glaring down at his feet. "I am a human being, with thoughts and emotions." Marik only snorted, and sat up to look at the young boy.
"Like hell you are." He said roughly. "You're just like Malik. A servant. A slave. Malik understands that because I taught him. Hell, if I were Bakura, trust me boy, you would have been broken a long time ago." Ryou swallowed, and curled into a tight ball. Don't listen to him, he's psychotic. Don't listen to him, don't listen to him… "Like Malik. Maybe Bakura just isn't as smart as I give him credit for."
"Stop it." Ryou muttered, suppressing a sniff. "Bakura just realizes that I'm a person with feelings." Marik snorted, and rolled his eyes.
"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that." Ryou sighed, and began to crawl under the covers. It's going to be a long night…
The teenager sighed as he arranged the three drinks on a tray. Overtime at a sleazy bar. Brilliant. But anything was better than staying at home and facing him. Why did Bakura let them stay for another night? Ryou swallowed a sob. According to Marik, the reason Bakura and Malik wanted the room alone for the night, was because they were having sex. Ryou still couldn't believe it. Does he love Malik? He must do, if he's going to do that with him… Bakura loves Malik... How can he? I love him! I do, I do! And now I ruined my chances... I never came out and told him, but I dropped so many hints, he must have noticed...
So, he didn't love me. He never loved me. There was a hollow feeling in his ribs as he set the tray on a table, ignoring a low whistle in his direction, but collecting three dollars left for him. I was only a servant to him, never anything less. Ryou wanted to cry as he headed back towards the bar. He never felt anything for me…
"Well, well, well." Ryou froze, and his chocolate mocha orbs widened as he recognized the deep voice behind him. No no no no no… "This is new."
"P-Please, Marik." The light whimpered, turning around. "Not here, not now. I-I'm trying to work-"
"So I see." The Egyptian chuckled darkly, tapping a finger again his chin. "I knew you worked somewhere sketchy, but a strip club? My my…"
"Oh shut up." Ryou muttered, gripping the circular metal tray in both hands. "I know Bakura told you I worked here Marik, so drop the act." He was very tired, having little sleep last night from the loud TV and the fear of Marik, napping on his couch.
"I didn't know you worked here." Marik smiled smugly. "I had no idea. Bakura never told me you work here. I just came here tonight for a bit of fun." Ryou froze, and narrowed his eyes.
"Fun?" Ryou whispered. "What do you mean? I-I thought you had Malik…" The Egyptian yami rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his alcoholic beverage in strong, tanned hands.
"Oh please, Ryou. He's busy with Bakura again tonight. And anyway, I like a little… variety." Ryou's eyes narrowed in confusion, and then widened in shock when he understood Malik's statement.
"Y-You… Do that with other people? That's terrible Marik…" Ryou murmured, lowering his eyes.
"Oh, this is priceless." Marik leaned forward slightly, a smirk on his dark features. "You're so naïve Ryou. Do you actually think that people still fuck each other because they're in love? Do you really believe that Bakura is screwing Malik's brains out right this moment because he loves and cares about him? If course not. He only wanted a fuck. And that's what I want." He finished, taking another gulp of his drink. Ryou could only stare openmouthed at Marik's audacious comment, thought relieved that Bakura didn't love Malik at all. But still… Poor Malik.
"I-I think It's wrong." Ryou whispered, sniffing slightly. Marik chuckled. "Well, I do. People sleeping with each other just because they want to… Well, it isn't right."
"And yet you're working in a strip club." The Egyptian pointed out. "You have very high morals for a common whore." Ryou visibly bristled.
"I am not a whore." He whispered angrily, taking a step towards Marik, shaking in his rage. "Don't you ever say that again Marik, Or I'll-"
"Or you'll what?" The Egyptian stood up, towering over Ryou, whose confidence seemed to seep away at Marik facing him. "Face it Ryou, you're too weak to do anything. You're just a weak little child. And that's all you'll ever be." Ryou growled, and the tray clattered to the floor. Before he could make a move however, Marik reached out, and seized Ryou's skinny wrists in one swift movement. The whitenette cried out, and started struggling, but to no avail. "I think you're forgetting your position Ryou." The Egyptian leered, smirking. "And that is a slave. A surface, a mask for the darkness within. Bakura obvious didn't teach you this properly." He grasped Ryou harder, the teenager whimpering. "Such a pity too. You'd make such a good slave-"
"Get the hell off me!" Ryou screamed, and in one movement, yanked his wrists firmly from Marik's grasp. "You're not my master Marik, so stay off!" The Egyptian was smirking, despite Ryou's outburst.
"So then," He reached for his drink and took a sip, looking at Ryou over the rim. "Who is your master?" Ryou's eyes widened, caught in his own trap. "Hm?"
"B-Bakura." The whitenette turned away, wrapping his arms loosely around his slim middle. Marik smiled in triumph.
"I was wrong then." He commented, draining his glass, and dropping it carelessly to the floor, the delicate glass shattering. "So have learned your lesson. You just like to lie to yourself that you're a free man." Without another word, Marik turned and left the bar, leaving Ryou to stand beside the fallen tray, and shattered glass, confused, scared, and alone.
"Kiyoshi?" Ryou thoughtfully traced a pattern on the wooden surface of the bar. The man beside him stopped stacking glasses underneath the counter, and looked at Ryou. "Can I ask you a question?" The brunette straightened himself, leaning against the counter.
"Sure." He said easily, cupping his chin in one hand. "What's eating at you?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. Ryou sighed.
"W-Well…" Ryou swallowed. "Do your… Do your parents mind that you work in a place like this?" Kiyoshi frowned and straightened himself fully. He lowered his hazel eyes, and for a moment, sadness flashed amongst the green-brown.
"Well… Seeing as they died five years ago, I don't think that they would really mind." Kiyoshi murmured, staring at the ground. He wiped his hands –which were already dry- on his apron, and sighed. "If they were alive, I think they'd be upset though." Ryou was stricken.
"Y-Your parents died?" He gasped, chocolate eyes warming in sympathy. "Ohh, Kiyoshi, I'm so sorry…" The man shrugged his shoulders, biting softly on his lower lip. "H-How?" Ryou had to ask.
"Well…" Kiyoshi leaned against the counter, twisting his hands in the dark-green apron. "They were actually murdered. I didn't even know why then. It happened one day when I had recently turned twelve. I was watching T.V in our apartment, when someone started banging at the door. I managed to hide under the table, so I wasn't shot, but my parents were." He swallowed deeply, and looked down.
"Ohh… Kiyoshi." Ryou sighed, one hand going to his mouth. "That's really terrible. I-I'm so sorry…" Kiyoshi shrugged again, keeping his eyes lowered. Ryou gently placed a slim hand on his shoulder. "Well… Who do you live with then?" The whitenette asked a few moments later. "You're too young to be living by yourself…"
"Yeah." Kiyoshi swallowed. "I'm eighteen in seven months. I-I live with my uncle, who's been looking after me ever since. He… Well… He got me this job…" Ryou tilted his head to the side, confused. "Ryou… The uncle I live with is Sadahiro." Ryou almost choked.
"S-Sadahiro? As in Sadahiro Makoto? Our boss?" Kiyoshi grimly nodded. "That slimeball? Kiyoshi… I'm really sorry."
"You don't know the half of it." The teenager muttered, still looking down at the floor. "He's sleazy beyond all reasoning." Ryou looked up at Kiyoshi sympathetically. "But no matter." The brunette lifted his head, and forced a smile, although Ryou could see his eyes were redrimmed. "What about you, huh? You're parents can't be happy with their sixteen-year-old son working in a strip club." This time, it was Ryou who looked down, biting his lip.
"Well… Actually, my mother died when I was nine." Ryou said softly. "With my little sister in a car crash. My father's an archaeologist, and travels all over the world, so I live in an apartment with my older brother." Kiyoshi sighed in empathy.
"Ryou… I'm really sorry about your Mother. And your Dad too. Losing a sister… That must be hard. I never had a sister, so…" He shrugged. "I never knew what it was like at all."
"Thanks." Ryou whispered, a small smile on his face despite himself. "It was so long ago… It's not like I forget about them, but I can go for a while without thinking about them, and well…" He sighed. "It doesn't hurt so much to miss them anymore."
"I know what you mean." Kiyoshi whispered, his hazel eyes soft and understanding. Both of the boys' remained like that for a while, deep in thought, before they were interrupted.
"Hey! Whaddoes a man have to do ta get a drink 'round 'ere?"
"Hey!" Ryou was roughly dragged out of his sleep by a hand shaking his shoulder. "Wake up you brat!" Chocolate optics blearily opened, and settled on the yami, glaring down at him. "I've been trying to wake you up for hours. I'm hungry." Ryou opened his mouth to say something, but bit his lip, and sighed, sitting up. He was so tired when he came home at 3AM that he'd crawled into the mattress on the living room and sunk into a deep sleep. And here, at... Nine? Oh Gosh... This is just silly…
"O-Okay Marik." Ryou sleepily crawled out from his blankets, and started to stand up. "'M up. 'kay…" He yawned, his hand over his mouth as he leaned against the wall. "Wh-What do you want then?" He asked in his sweet voice, stumbling towards the kitchen. I'm so exhausted... Need sleep.
In the bedroom, Bakura was exhausted too, but for a different reason. He lay on his side, staring at Malik, who lay on his back, visibly shaking. The yami felt no guilt in relation to what he did- After all Malik was used to such treatment from Marik, and Bakura had tried to sometimes be a little softer on him, especially after the boy started bleeding again. Ugh. Better get Ryou to change the sheets, too. He sighed, and rolled over onto his back. He honestly thought he would never be able to orgasm again in his life.
"You asleep?" Bakura lifted himself up on one elbow. Malik gave no reply, but the yami thought he saw the freezing of tanned shoulders. "Okay then." He sighed, dragging the blanket up to his chin. "I need to sleep anyway." Bakura rolled over and within a few moments, fell asleep. As soon as Malik was sure the yami was asleep, he rolled over, and sat up, his legs drawn slightly up to his chest with the blanket around his sheets. The Egyptian wrapped his arms around his knees, and bowed his head, golden hair falling across his face. Fresh tears pushed at the back of his eyes, but Malik forced them away. He'd learned a long time ago that crying afterwards wasn't going to help, but this felt… Different. He couldn't place it, but it really did. Bakura was… Not softer, but he definitely felt something different about it all. Maybe sex with Bakura was just a lot better than sex with Marik. If so, Ryou was going to be one lucky kid when Bakura finally sorted all of his shit out. Well, I'm pretty sure Bakura loves him. That has to be why he doesn't hit Ryou. Or maybe Ryou just keeps his head down. Ryou? I doubt it. He'd be struggling to defy Bakura every chance he got to try and prove his freedom. Someone like Bakura with such a short temper wouldn't put up with that if he didn't love him. And this thing about no one being allowed to touch Ryou... I'm surprised he hasn't figured it out for himself, actually. But then again, he's the most innocent and naïve sixteen-year-old I met. Well, apart from Yugi. Malik sighed, lifting his head, and grabbed at the carton of cigarettes on the bedside table. I need a fag. He lit up the cancer stick with Bakura's lighter, and took a long drag. He didn't even know why the hell he took up smoking three months ago. It wasn't sensible or healthy, but Malik didn't care. There was no ashtray around, so the Egyptian flicked the ash onto his hand and rubbed it into the already dirty sheet.
"Hey." Bakura rolled over with a small smirk. "Didn't say you could have one of those." Malik shrugged and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Do you act like this around Marik?" The yami challenged, sitting up and narrowing his eyes.
"No." Malik admitted, leaning against the headboard. "But I don't care what that bastard thinks. I hate him. I honestly wish to the gods that he was dead so I wouldn't have to put up with him anymore." Malik bowed his head, and although he tried, he couldn't stop the tears that started to flow. "I-I just… What did I do wrong? I never angered him to do this, I never did! I-I d-don't understand…" The half-smoked cigarette slipped from his fingers, but Bakura managed to rescue it just in time, taking it to his lips. He didn't know what to do as Malik cried, but eventually settled for gently rubbing soft circles in his back. The Egyptian took in a deep shuddering breath, but couldn't cease his tears.
"Personally," Bakura muttered, taking another drag of the cigarette. "I don't hold with what Marik does. You just don't treat your host like he does. Hell, I'd never treat Ryou like some kind of punching bag. It's stupid. But then again…" He sighed. "Look at that idiot Yugi, mollycoddled by the Pharaoh. He's nowhere near ready for the real world. I babied Ryou at first, but that was when he was a little kid. He's stronger now… Or should be. Rule by fear, but don't actually abuse them. It's a stable balance." Malik's sobs had reduced greatly, and he lifted his head, rubbing at his nose.
"B-But..." The blonde swallowed. "I-I don't understand. You're contradicting yourself. I-I mean, you say that hurting a host it wrong, but look at what you've done to me these past two nights." Bakura smirked, and flicking the cigarette butt out of the open window above his bed.
"Yes." Bakura scooted slightly closer to the Egyptian. "But I didn't say a host, I said my host." He extended a pale bony finger, and started winding a lock of sandy hair around his finger. Malik closed his eyes.
"So… you'd never do this to Ryou then?" He turned around to look at Bakura in the eye. The yami shook his head. "That's… Really good." He sighed, and yawned. "We should get up. I'm not getting back to sleep anytime soon."
"Neither." Bakura agreed. He lifted the sheets back and stood up, yawning and stretching. "Better get dressed too."
"Malik and I better hit the road." Marik sighed. All four of them were in the living room, sprawled in various positions watching the T.V. Ryou was sitting on the floor, as far away from Marik as he could be, his nose buried in a book. Malik was on the floor also, leaning against the couch, where Marik was sprawled. Bakura occupied the arm chair, smoking again. "Places to go, people to see."
"Like who?" Bakura raised an eyebrow. Marik only made a face before giving Bakura the bird. The pale yami chuckled, and exhaled a fresh cloud of smoke. "Yeah. What I thought." Both of the Egyptians stood up, and headed towards the door. Ryou didn't move, almost glaring at the page.
"Oh, and Bakura." Marik put his palm out to the spirit. "Money?" Bakura sighed, and stood up, heading towards the bedroom. He opened up Ryou's sock drawer, where he knew the teenager kept his wages. He extracted all of the twenty-dollar bills, and walked into the lounge, slapping the money into Marik's palm. The Egyptian smiled in satisfaction, and fanned the money out with tanned fingers. He gave half to Malik, who slid the bills into his back pocket. Ryou, who had been watching the transaction, stood up with his eyes narrowing. "See ya then." He said casually, opening the apartment door. "Come on boy." Malik flashed Bakura a small, shaky smile as he left, and Marik nodded his head.
"Wh-Where did you get that money from?" Ryou asked, his voice shaking. Bakura was nonchalant as he kicked the door shut. "Wh-Why did you give it to them?"
"Malik wasn't free." Bakura walked into the lounge, and flopped onto his armchair once more, stretching out and sighing. "Or course I had to pay him."
"Was that my money?" Ryou gasped, before gritting his teeth. "You stole my money?" Bakura only snorted, and rolled his eyes. "How dare you! I earned that money Bakura! It was mine! You had no right to take it! I needed that to pay for our bills Bakura!" The yami narrowed his eyes slightly and stood up.
"Correction." Bakura bared his teeth. "I own you Ryou. You are mine! And therefore, everything you own is mine! This apartment is mine! The furniture is mine! The clothes on your back are mine! And that means the money you earn is mine too!"
"No!" Ryou screamed back. Bakura froze, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "I am not yours Bakura! I'm my own person!" Wordlessly, Bakura narrowed his eyes, and hit Ryou hard across the face. The light gasped, and held a hand to his burning face.
"I've had enough of this!" Bakura raged, and punched Ryou hard in the stomach. The whitenette screamed, and his knees buckled as he doubled over, coughing and choking with both hands over his stomach. "You are mine Ryou! I own you! As weak and pathetic as you are, I own you!" Bakura kneed the boy in the stomach, and Ryou tumbled over onto his back, coughing and sobbing. "Do you understand?" Ryou didn't answer, and Bakura growled, hurling his foot into Ryou's side. The boy arched his back and screamed. The yami leaned down, and grabbed a fistful of white hair, dragging Ryou up until he was eye level with him. "Do you understand?"
"Y-Yes…" Ryou choked weakly, closing his eyes. Bakura growled and released the boy, who collapsed on the floor, coughing and gasping.
"Good."
Bleeehhhh... I don't like it... But I'm not going through that again. XD
R&R?