Author's Rant: Thanks so much everyone for reading. You're all very awesome! Enjoy the next chapter!
Warning: Graphic torture, blood, gore and death.
An Itch
Domino City Shipyard: Warehouse 14/Pier 47
Warehouse fourteen was located in the furthest end of the docks, where the water channel ran underneath the worn down tin building. It was a hidden fortress of malevolet sin, a haven for gamble, sadistic desires and control. The surrounding perimeter was guarded on all sides by swaying surveillance cameras positioned in the corners and wandering soldiers, dressed in their family shades of blue, grey or white. There were twenty men patrolling the area, ten of them carrying black AK47's, M16A4 Assault Rifles, and 9mm handguns.
Inside, the whole warehouse was packed to capacity with Blue Eye Aces.
A thick cloud of white smoke slipped from Atem's parted full lips. His eyes were darkened a deep magenta, overlaid with sadistic cruelty. He'd captured eleven red bloods from the last raid. Just eleven. He, Seth and Isis had taken the West Cove by surprise when they came pouring on the street like a pack of wolves out for prey. Atem had no motive or need to steal a single thing from the sling house. He'd just wanted to get even. Pure and simple. Yami had harmed his soldiers while he'd been out of town. Twenty six of them to be precise.
Atem would've matched that number or more if not for the young distraction that was beginning to develop a habit of occupying his mind lately. . . . He didn't like that.
Money, power and his family were all that should've been on his mind—Yugi, mm, as pleasurable a sight he was, Atem was going to have to scratch that itch before it became a nuisance. Yugi stole away his chance to get a proper vengeance but tonight would do.
Atem would return the favor with the heads of these whimpering children.
Their ages ranged from fifteen to twenty four, all of them nothing but babies trying to be men. Well, this is what happened when you toyed around in the big boy's world. You get sacrificed, get killed or survive long enough to be killed someday. That's the way the game's played. The rules will never change.
Now they'd pay the price in here; none of them would come out alive.
This warehouse was set to resemble a poker room. Overhead stain glassed chandeliers hung over a dozen pool tables, each with about two members to a table. There were televisions lining the ways, all on different sport stations, the news of drama talk shows. Velvet blue and leather couches, tables, and even a small kitchen was built on far the end of the building.
Atem dusted off the ashes from his cigar and pulled it to his lips to suck in the sweet, tart flavor. He closed his eyes and exhaled in one long sigh. The space around his head thickened in smoke. He sat in a velvet armchair with an emerald glass shade lamp to his right and a round table to his left, with a glass of rich Hennessy in a gold goblet. Seth, his cousin by blood and one of the closest members he trusted, was stationed by his side; his right hand man. They were dressed very much the same; a loose fitted Henley shirt, Atem's grey and Seth's royal blue, with some dark blue jeans and Nike shoes.
The five young Red Eyes before him had been the most troublesome during the ambush. So, Atem wanted to deal with them himself. Call it an unnatural compulsion to get even. They were bound by their hands and ankles, blindfolded, and gagged, and forced on the balls of their knees, deaf to the world. No better than newborns after delivery. The rest of the captives were being dealt with in the back by the other leaders.
From the look of things, Marik was enjoying himself the most. The blond young man was pistol whipping the one who spat on Atem's shirt, so casually that Atem could assume the boy was an expert.
When Marik's victim began to vomit blood, though, and some of it got on the floor, Atem heard Yusei's knuckles crack, clench and unfold out the corner of his eyes. 'Somebody's impatient,' Atem mentally mused. Yusei, wearing a sleeve-less red shirt and khaki cargo shorts, was a part of the ambush and came in handy often during the short time he'd been in the gang. His only flaw was his recklessness and overeager need to be first.
Atem had kept that one on a short leash for a while, because of his trigger happy exploits. He wanted to see if the young man could prove himself today through performing some entertainment. Atem pulled the cigar from his mouth and beckoned Yusei over with a single flip of his wrist.
Yusei, who'd been sitting at the table holding Atem's wine, stood and walked around to crouch by his leader's leg, "Sir?"
"How long have you been here?" Atem asked, staring at the five bagged heads.
Yusei followed his leader's gaze and smirked, "About eight months. A year if you count the favors I had to do just to get in."
"Hm," Atem hummed approvingly. "Have you ever entertained me before?"
"Depends," Yusei quietly said, voice calm but a hint of respectful fear in his tone. "You mean getting a smile or knowing the tread count in your sheets?"
Atem chuckled. This one was careful. He liked that. Atem leaned to the side to tap the ashes into an ash tray, "I mean this kind of entertainment, young buck." He nodded his chin toward the five captives.
Yusei's blue eyes took on a radiate, mischievous shine, "I haven't had the chance."
"You will today."
That was all Yusei needed to hear before he shot to his feet. He fished out a switchblade from his pocket, and started toward the one in the middle, walking fast as if he'd been anticipating this moment for years. Yusei snatched the bag off and stared.
A head of dark brown hair fell out and fanned all around the young man's shoulders. Atem knew this one; Rex Raptor, if he recalled, about seventeen years old. The patch of white colored hair on his brow, lowered over his eyes as soon as he caught sight of Atem's face.
Atem frowned.
This one was cowardly. He'd be doing Yami a favor to kill this one off.
"How long?" Yusei asked, kneeling by the wide eyed red blood.
Atem shrugged; face becoming riddled with boredom, "Until I'm laughing." His liquid smooth, baritone voice acted as a hammer to nail the silence. Everything ceased in action; televisions shut off, games ceased and conversation died away.
Yusei scanned around the room of onlookers, all of them sporting a hungry desire to see pain and agony dispel from their common enemy. Yusei inhaled deeply and exhaled, drawing out his blade. One of Raptor's arms was wrestled out of the rope and yanked forward in Yusei's lap. He turned it belly up, exposing the strips and designs of RES4LIFE, gothic RES letters and other hand signs.
Yusei's lips tilted in dissatisfaction and he delicately traced his blade's flat end along Raptor's arm. His skin slid off in a neat layer, sifting down like peels of paint off a wall. The blood that followed was bright and thick. The amount filtering off to the sides, better than any butcher knife could carve.
Rex's howl was a muffled behind the blue rag stuffed in his mouth.
Yusei cocked his head, admiring his own skill. He had never done this before, but that didn't matter. He kept at it like it was as simple as peeling the skin off an apple. Raptor's muffled screams had a wild, disbelieving octave to it; like it was impossible for this sort of agony to exist. Ribbons and clean strips of tan skin coiled off the end of the blade and fell to the floor. Raptor's head tasseled and buckled back and forth, pulling relentlessly at his arm.
But Yusei's grip was firm, and unmoving. He used little strength to keep Raptor anchored down while he continued his work. Yusei worked with the precision of a surgeon, fraying the tattooed skin bit by bit, and then going on to slice through muscle ligaments. Blood, scores of it, gushed and bubbled, overlapping on Yusei's thighs; Raptor's eyes rolled to the back of his head many times, but no matter how hard he tried to fall unconscious the raw agony would force him back to reality.
So far, Yusei and taken half the build of Raptor's arm, down to the middle dip of his elbow. Another few carvings and Yusei would've made it to naked bone. He finally looked up after being so entranced by his work and held up Raptor's deformed arm, like presenting a first place ribbon.
Atem coolly arched an eyebrow, tilted his head and grinned from ear to ear before he erupted into laughter, a sound captivating the entire warehouse. It boomed and lasted all of two minutes, before Atem stood from his chair and withdrew his gun, "Now that's entertainment!" he loudly proclaimed. "Take those off," he ordered. "Except that one. He'll get special treatment." He motioned at the youngest to be dealt with last.
Several soldiers came forward and roughly yanked off the brown bags hiding the angry and scared faces of the Red Eyes members. The one closest to Raptor got a firsthand look at his mangled arm and started squirming to inch away.
He was the first one Atem approached and crouched down beside, "Now, now, we'll have none of that." He said amused. "I have something else in store for you," He stood up and pressed his gun barrel in the center of the young man's head. "We're gonna have a health lesson." He lightly tapped the gun's point on his head. "Did you know if I shot you, just about here, you'd still be kicking for another ten minutes? Imagine what that's like. You won't be able to scream, or breath, but the nerve set there will make sure every pain receptor is set on high." Atem barked a short laugh. "It'll feel like you're pissing acid from your brain."
"Mmm mmm mmm!" The gang member squealed, bobbing from side to side.
Atem's amusement solemn up fast, "Take your death like a man, young buck. We're all gonna meet our make sometime. I'm just giving you an early invite," The boy glared up, tears perching on the ends of his eyelashes. He was scared to death. Well, Atem couldn't help that now could he? "Hold still." With a face blank as ice, he pulled the trigger twice.
Chunks of meat and blood flew where the bullets penetrated his skull. The gang member slumped forward, body involuntarily twitching. His eyes were wide, dark red tears pooling from the corners of his eyes as he witnessed his own skull fragments crumbling by his knees. The pain was on a magnitude of its own and, though his mind yowled, he couldn't audibly voice his agony.
There were whimpers coming from the last bagged red blood. His head bowed, and his nose sniffled and blew the bag open and close.
Atem cranked his gun, "I've had my fun with that one," he murmured, referring to Rex. "Do away with him."
Five safety clicks echoed from random directions. Rex shrieked and wobbled to and fro as if the movement alone could spare him. His scream was a wretched, watery gurgle when gunfire flared from all directions. His body jerked back and forth before finally collapsing to the ground, dead.
Atem didn't waste time. He pistol whip the other two, the flesh to metal connection repetitively tingling and clucking. It wasn't until a vicious crunch came from the second that Atem decided he'd had his fun and put a bullet in the last ones. The lingering one with brain damage, he kicked to the side to finish his slow death with the rest of his comrades.
Now, for the youngest. He was the one Atem wanted very much to enjoy. He waved for the others to spread out, and kneeled down to the ball of his knee and reached out to caress the teen's head through the bag. He leaned forward and listened.
Distinct sniffles and whines resonated through the bag. Atem snorted and burst into a wicked laugh. That cued the rest of the Blue Eye Aces to join in his unknown merriment, but the thrill was all the same. Getting to do away with another red blood would put a smile on any of their faces.
"Save your tears, young buck. I'm not Oprah," Atem's finger's bunched around the bag and dragged it down until a head of beige and chocolate brown hair steadily freed itself and flared on all sides. His eyes were as expressive as a baby fawn with enough fire to manifest the devil. Despite the tears, this lad looked ready to take on the world and anyone else prepared to take him down.
That look though . . . . It gave Atem pause for an instant. His smile faded, his eyebrows pinched firm and it was at last, he realized that determined glare could rival a certain young man he'd spoken to last night. Yugi— Atem shook his head, forcing back the subtle change. It came and went like a light switch. He was back to being in control. He was Atem, Blue Eyes T.O.G. again. Those emotions he'd explore another time. He will explore them again. He focused his gaze on the young man again and took him in one up and down swipe.
Black skull t-shirt, ragged dark blue jeans and white Puma tennis shoes. His eyes could pull a thousand souls into their cinnamon brown depths. Atem lowered his head further and stared into kid's eyes so close that panic set the boy's body on fire. He eventually looked away. Atem smirked at that. Good. He wasn't as stupidly brave as he tried to portray.
"Let's see, what to do with you," Atem murmured, his fingers reaching to delicately frame the heart shaped face. "Oh, you're not so hard on the eyes." His index and thumb pinched the boy's chin and roughly twisted his face from side to side, admiring his profile. It flattered him on both sides, though he had a better angle from his right. Atem's index brushed against where the white rag gagged the teen's lips. The tip of his finger hooked in the slack and pulled down.
"Ah," Atem purred, running his thumb over the reddened plump. "Look at that. Ripe like a strawberry and just as smooth as a baby's ass. Mm, mm, mm, so sexy," That brought some lecherous chuckles from the surrounding crowd. When Atem's finger traveled lower, dipping in the space where the boy's neck disappeared in his shirt, the boy slinked away the way a child would after seeing a snake slither pass. Atem's smile widened, "You don't like me touching you?"
"No," The boy managed to finally say. The hinted edge in his voice could crack a brick, "I don't want any of your filth touching me!"
Atem coolly arched a brow, his smirk smaller. The butt of his pistol snapped across the boy's face. He fell to the floor, a whimpering heap. Something in the way he scrunched on the floor, legs bent to his chest and face tucked in, said he'd never experienced pain this intense in his life.
A moment from behind nearly caught Atem off guard, but it didn't happen a second time. The next moment, Yusei was crouched by his side; palms open and out to show he wasn't armed. Atem tilted his head back, "Can I help you?"
A short intake of breath drew the pair's attention down. The boy's eyes had gone so wide, every stitch of white was visible, "Yusei?" the boy murmured, flooded with relief. "Help me."
Yusei's face looked torn, the first broken expression Atem had ever seen on the teen.
Atem reared back, the shock in his mind dissipating as a chill like winter surged forth. He held out his gun, point blank between Yusei's eyes. "Something you wanna tell me, young buck?" Seth appeared from behind, drawing out a 9mm, aiming at Yusei's head.
Yusei's blue eyes darted in every direction he heard the soft clicks of fingers smoothing over triggers. He respectfully lowered his eyes, looking up the slightest to stare in Atem's dark gaze, "He's not a Red Eye."
So few words and yet that did enough to make the silver barrels drop. Even Atem's as he skeptically switched his gaze from Yusei to the boy still hunkered on the floor. "Is he a relative to any of them?"
"No sir."
"Then why was he in the sling house?"
A soft cough, "I was looking for my friend. I hadn't seen him in months," The boy quickly said. "I'd got lost when they caught me . . . and then when you showed up."
"You live in Red Eye Territory?"
"No, I'm in Medium grounds."
Well, that did it. Atem rolled his eyes and pushed himself up to his feet. Just the mention of Medium Territory left a bad taste in his mouth. Atem couldn't kill this brat even if he had the power of the president behind him. Immunity was sound and guaranteed. Pegasus kept a diligent attendance of every single resident that lived within his domain. Roll call was recorded every three hours and if a single one was missing, he had connections more thorough then Yami and Atem combined to find out where the missing was. That was the kind of fire Atem didn't need lit under his ass.
"Let 'em go," Atem announced to any and every one.
Yusei sneered at one of the grunts coming forward to loosen the kid's restraints. He took care of the deed himself, helped the brunet up and escorted him to the closest exit, after nodding his gratitude to Atem.
The T.O.G. watched until the young men disappeared in the shadows before turning to his cousin.
"Can we trust him, cousin?" Seth questioned, eyes locked on the back of Yusei's head.
"Yusei won't betray us," Atem said. "He's young, but he's proved himself enough to earn my trust. I think he's got a thing for that one though. He looked ready to take a bullet for him." Yusei vanished out the door with his load. Atem turned to Seth and motioned for him to follow. "Have Marik and the others get ready for our close-up." The tip of his foot slid around the pool of blood dribbling from the dead bodies. "It's time we gave Yami his present."
"Are you going to deliver it personally?"
"I may. I may not. I've got other matters to address," Atem said quietly.
"Such as?" Seth probed.
Atem chuckled, "An itch that needs to be scratched before it becomes a rash." It was such a shame he couldn't be there to see the O.G.'s face. Atem enjoyed the look of murder in Yami's eyes. But someone else's bright eyes captured his attention.
Yugi Muto.
Yusei took in the salt and sour scent of the tumbling waves washing against the broad sides of the shrimp boats, personal speed boats and commercial yachts. A downward slope lead to the under parts of a wooden pier; away from prying eyes, away from suspicious ears and away from everything. Yusei carefully glided the brunet to a spot hidden in such a way that he could see Warehouse fourteen, but no one could see him.
Yusei closed his eyes and relinquished the anxiety quaking in his chest. "You idiot!" He spat so viciously, the splash of the ocean could split on his command. "What the hell were you thinking, Jaden? Coming out here by yourself—God, why didn't you stay home? Do you know what could've happened if we hadn't shown? Your dumbass would've been six feet under?!"
The brunet winched like he'd been burned for every shouted question.
Yusei's strong hand gripped his chin and forced it up. Jaden shuddered in surprise and stared. So many things were running in his mind, such as answers to Yusei's questions, questions of his own and more importantly, the fact that he was here, standing before him after not seeing his boyfriend for three months. Yusei was right here, he was so close. Those royal blue eyes were poisonously pure and soft and concerned and what Jaden finally realized, was fear.
He'd been scared for him. Yusei had been worried.
Jaden blinked away the sting teasing the back of his eyes and leaned forward very slowly. His hands came up and tentatively bunched into Yusei's shirt, "I'm sorry," He whispered. "I just, I was worried. You hadn't been at your house in months. I hadn't seen you at school. No one's seen you around. I thought the worst. You don't call; you don't even send messages anymore. What am I supposed to think? What am I supposed to do?"
There was a long while before Yusei's arms rose up around Jaden and held him tight to his chest, "You're supposed to wait until I come to you." Yusei sighed, tucking Jaden's head under his chin. "We've been through this Jad'. Just wait a while until I get my dockets together, than we can get our own place."
"I'm not rushing that anymore, Yusei," Jaden pulled his face away, resting his chin on Yusei's chest, eyes up and sad. "Do you have any idea what I go through at night? All I do is worry and wonder. When is Yusei coming home? Is Yusei alright? What if this happened, what if that happened? I'm getting sick of it, Yusei. I'm tired!" Jaden shrugged himself away, voice carrying higher and higher for every confession.
Yusei clenched his fists together, "You're so sick of it that you'll walk into Red Eye Territory?"
"I needed to know where you were!"
"So you think to ask my enemies?" Yusei spat. "You know my head's got a price right? Were you thinking before you acted? Damn it Jaden, just whispering my name to the wrong people could get you killed!"
"And I don't want to have to live like that!" Jaden snapped back angrily. "It's bad enough we have to hide our relationship but now I have to be careful of whom I talk too? That's bullshit Yusei! Joining this gang hasn't made things easier; it's only made it worse."
Yusei's eyebrows pulled into a tight scowl, "How else do you expect me to get the money we need so fast, Jaden? It's either this or wait another two years until you graduate. I can get the money we need faster this way. Can you just," Yusei sighed, depleted of the energy to fight with his boyfriend. "Just trust me alright? Give me a couple more months. Three, max. Once I collected all we'll need, I'll get us our house in Medium Grounds. Can you trust me to do that?"
". . . I trust you Yusei," Jaden said, and stopped because his voice was cracking. What he couldn't say was how much he didn't trust the Blue Eye Aces. He despised the whole lot of them for the way they dominated the frontal half of the city. No one lived the way they should. It was a constant bodily reflex, having to glance over your shoulder every once in a while to be sure you weren't being followed home. The city was dark and damp, even when the sun was suspended above like a hovering pot of gold. Jaden couldn't walk out of his high school without seeing foot soldiers lingering outside the schoolyard, hanging around the fences or trying to lure empty hearted students into their vicious world.
It was a struggle trying to keep his younger brother from being warped in the head by the Blue Eyes promises of wealth, protection and fame. Having to go a different direction to reach their house was inconvenient because it sometimes lead to a new batch of blue bloods waiting in the shadows.
Jaden folded his arms and turned away. It was Yusei that believed if he joined the Blue Eyes, it'd take the heat off of their high school and more so, off Jaden's younger stepbrother, Syrus. It worked fine in theory but it wasn't long before the gang came migrating back to the school grounds, recruiting more lost souls.
Jaden had enough complications as it was being fifteen and dating an eighteen year old senior of their high school. Keeping it a secret from their peers was one thing and now from the rest of the world? When would the conditions end?
He suddenly felt strength and full warmth of Yusei at his spine, like a blooming inferno furnace, and the way Yusei lowered his head to nuzzle the back of Jaden's neck. His breath sighed out long and drained, as though wondering what he had done to deserve Jaden in his life. Funny thing was, Jaden was wondering the same thing; both the good and the bad. "I'm ready for us to be together, Yusei. I'm tired of all these lies, the absences, all of it. You're never around to hold me. I can't hold you. I'm sick of it."
Yusei fastened his arms around Jaden's shoulders, strong as a python's embrace and tugged back until Jaden melted against him like clay molded into place, "Don't make me feel guilty for doing this, babes." Yusei said so that could feel and hear his desperation against his skin. "It'll get better, I promise.
Jaden twisted to look up at him with a slight smile, "No it won't, but like I said, I trust you." He laid his temple on Yusei's lips and closed his eyes, instinctively relaxing as he always did because he knew somehow Yusei had the solutions to all their problems.
"You should go," Yusei murmured against Jaden's brow. "Before Zane sends his dogs out."
"I know. Call me as soon as you get home, kay?"
"Definitely. . . ." Yusei leaned in. "I missed you."
Jaden drew closer to him, his breath wafting over Yusei's face, "I missed you too."
It'd been so long. So very long. Jaden didn't dare breathe when Yusei's lips pressed against his, soft and testing, because he feared waking up. It was better than before, hotter, sweeter, and more familiar because he already knew Yusei's tart, wet taste. Jaden exhaled shakily when Yusei's hand came to rest against his jaw. Fire, molten as the first sunrise, pooled in the pit of his stomach. Yusei stepped closer, letting his hands slide around Jaden's waist, taking over fully by tilting his head down, using his height. Jaden let his mouth go where Yusei wanted it. He trusted him that much. Yusei's tongue probed Jaden's lips apart and sunk in. It was better than heaven, better than the best kind of aphrodisiac. Jaden opened his mouth and Yusei curled his tongue into the brunet's mouth with a rough flick, exploring everything within as if he'd only get this one shot.
The kiss intensified. Teeth clicked, nips exchanged, tongues wetly traced over lips. For every drawled moan Jaden exhaled, it drew a darker vibration in Yusei's chest. The ocean drowned out the wet smacks and heavy breathing.
Before long, it was over way too soon. Yusei ended the kiss with planted touches on Jaden's lips, his jawline, his neck and finally, his forehead. There, was where Yusei left his lips to rest, "Shit, Jad', I've missed those kisses."
Jaden chewed his bottom lip to stifle the unmanly giggle. If there was one thing he dearly missed, it was leaving Yusei breathless after a make-out fest. Being able to leave someone as controlled and quiet as Yusei just did something to your ego.
"You better go," Yusei whispered, smoldering with lust. Though that was what he said, his hands still wandered and groped Jaden's ass.
Jaden squirmed and this time, he did giggle, "Alright," he leaned away to kiss Yusei's lips again and wiggled out of his arms, back stepping toward the slope. He paused where the pier started to devour the sight of Yusei's face. "Take care." He took off without looking back.
Good thing. Yusei wasn't sure he would've been able to let him go. When he was sure Jaden made it across the docks, Yusei made his way back to the warehouse.
No movies, no television, no games, no hanging out and no trips to the park for the next month. Yugi knew grandpa had a mean streak but damn. Prison inmates had a better lifestyle.
Solomon Muto had been absolutely furious this morning. As soon as Yugi walked through the front door, the old man had been waiting at the dinner paper writing a list of chores, extra duties and other crazy punishments he could think of. Yugi's curfew was even kicked up a whole four hours. Scratch that, five after he protested about being too old to have a curfew. Now Grandpa expected him home at eleven o'clock and that was after his sentence was over.
Yugi lounged in his class seat, positioned about three rows back from the teacher's desk, one row away from Tristan. He glanced out the window and sighed. It was beautiful outside. After all the rainfall it left the grass shimmering like a seabed of emeralds. He'd get a chance to enjoy a smidge of the lovely afternoon while attending baseball practice after school.
"Damn," Yugi groaned, rolling his eyes.
Chemistry was so boring, it should be criminal. Nothing made sense, the periodic table looked like vomit splashed on mathematics and the teacher had a voice dryer then a Texas powder house in the middle of July. Yugi couldn't keep his eyes from crossing or stop twirling the ink pen dangling out of his mouth. He was wearing the school uniform of royal blue blazer, white short-sleeved, button-up shirt, and blue dress slacks and black Reeboks. His feet kicked out and saddled in the desk basket in front of him as he tried once more to pay attention. Yugi's only freebie was listening to Tristan's snoring and watching Duke's outrageous attempts at flirting with the girls.
However, Yugi wouldn't say today was all bad. His mind was trapped between two dimensions, one revolving around Atem Hassan and the other wrapped around Yami. Last night, or rather this early morning conversation he had with the men, left him feeling, maybe exposed and embarrassed. Too much was said to both of them about his stress, about his past life and the emotions he struggled with nearly every day.
Atem advised him to go through the throes of life, like one would a chess board. Just wait until your move comes and when it does, make it count. Then there was the O.G., no Yami—Yugi preferred his thinking of his name—that hadn't said more than ten words, but managed to carry his weight of the conversation just fine.
He listened.
They were both, different and so much alike. They were starting to occupy Yugi's thoughts more frequently as the class day progressed on. He wondered about their lives beyond what he knew of them. Such as Atem. For Kisara to be attending a private elementary, spoke high of his status; he had either money or great connections. So what did he do for a living? Where did he live? His personality was too languid to be anything strenuous. The way he walked too, though, spoke years of experienced authority and grace. He could get whatever he wanted without a word. That's the air Yugi breathed from him whenever he spoke to the man.
But that one time hours before, his voice had been hauntingly chilled. Like, he hadn't even tried to hide the fact that he could be a dangerous person. . .
And then there was Yami, quiet, deadly, guarded on all sides with a cold face equivalent to a December winter. Yugi witnessed firsthand what Yami was capable of. His people followed him and obeyed without protest. Yami didn't need to reinforce his authority. He expected it to be followed; his aura could command an entire shopping mall to respect him as soon as he walked in the center of a crowd.
And the way he smiled those couple of times. . . . It didn't seem to fit. Yugi shook his head. No, that's not the way to describe it. Yami had his face set in such a way that made his smile look foreign, almost alien.
Which was a pity. He looked very dashing when he was civil and not ordering the destruction of half the city. He walked like he owned the world and could buy the rest at any given moment. The same went for Atem. When he allowed himself to be himself, aloof and smooth, he was devilishly fine.
Yugi sighed the third time that afternoon. Why couldn't he find decent guys or girls with the same kind of traits? Too many were wrapped up wanting a piece of his fame or locking him down to prevent others from getting his "future" paycheck.
Yugi chuckled to himself. He wouldn't dare admit it aloud, but he'd gained a subtle attraction to the two men. Atem's skin reminded him of his grandfather's Hennessy collection, smooth and strong to the touch. And Yami, he was just, damn. His sex appeal was outrageous. It should be against the law for someone to have a physique that cut.
Yugi lost himself for a moment fantasizing when an authoritative voice broke over the intercom, "Mr. Tanaka, do you have Yugi Muto?"
Tristan jolted awake at once. The classroom stopped everything they were doing to stare at Yugi, including Mr. Tanaka. The teacher snapped his book shut, lifting a grey eyebrow, "Yes, he's here."
"Could you send him up to the office for a moment please? He will return."
As soon as the intercom clicked off, the classroom was abuzz with students grouping in threes and fours to collaborate theories on why Yugi Muto, A/B student, star baseball player, handsome student and well-mannered teen, was being called to the front office? Yugi blinked dumbfounded until Mr. Tanaka gestured for him to head on to the front office and to make sure he returned to get the notes he'd miss while away.
Tristan grabbed Yugi's hand when he stood, "Everything alright?" He asked.
Yugi shrugged, "I'm not sure." He was just as puzzled as the rest of the class. Yugi could recall only being called to the office twice in his life. The first time was about his mother's passing. The second time was when Grandpa had come to tell Yugi about Heba's murder.
He gulped.
"You want me to come with you?"
Yugi squeezed his best friend's hand assuredly. Tristan's been around throughout the years to comprehend Yugi's apprehension. "I'll be fine," Yugi said. "I'll ask the secretary to call if I need you."
"You better," Tristan reluctantly let go. "You got twenty minutes, Yug'. I'll risk gettin' detention if you're not back by then."
"Got cha'," Yugi walked out of the classroom as fast as he could and when his feet touched the glassy marble floors in the hallway, he made a right and hustled to the front office.
All kinds of scenarios played in his mind like an old slideshow. What if Grandpa was hurt? Did he fall and hurt himself carrying a shipment of cards? Had someone broken in and hurt him? Yugi refused to believe it was something worst then an injury. Anything beyond, and he'd go out of his mind.
Yugi made it to the glass door leading inside the office when a large dark hand pressed the frame above his head. Yugi couldn't open the door if he tried. It came as a big enough shock to make Yugi whip around fists automatically rising in defense.
His mouth fell open when it was Atem's smiling face hovering above him instead of a possible bully. Yugi eyed Atem's body and lingered on the darkening shade of his eyes before he sighed his name, "Atem."
Something wasn't right.
Anything out of the ordinary always put Duke on guard, especially in school. Here was the only place he got a peace of mind and guaranteed predictability. His instincts were strung up like electrified streamers, pinpointing everything that didn't fit. He dismissed the group of girls he'd been talking too and stood up to investigate every face. No one looked suspect in here as far as he knew.
Duke walked up to the teacher's desk, palms pressed on the surface and leaned in, "Mr. Tanaka, you mind if I have a look around? Its Medium business."
Mr. Tanaka blinked once, then blinked again before recognition quickly flickered on his face, "Oh yes, yes of course. Please, go ahead."
"Thank you," Duke left the classroom without a word. The Medium's badge he kept pinned inside his jacket came in handy as he went in and out of each classroom, scanning the faces of the students inside. The mix of Red Eyes and Blue Eyes weren't any different than the usual crowd. He kept a tight record log of each gang member attending school here and knew their whereabouts when they were absent.
So far he noticed nothing. Duke arrived to the transparent bridge connecting the East building to the West building. The two-way hall had floor to ceiling window panels that opened to the front parking lot and back parking lot. He stopped in the center to eagle eye both sides. Perhaps he'd notice something.
There wasn't much to see. Just the usual faculty members and janitor staff.
Duke gave the front view a look around and zeroed in on two cars.
His green eyes grew big and the air became trapped in his lungs. On the east end of the parking lot was a royal blue 2012 Cadillac CTS and on the west side was a crimson 2013 Cadillac XTS, parked near the baseball field.
Duke rubbed his eyes to be absolute sure because it wasn't often you saw something this unrealistic.
When neither car evaporated into his imagination, Duke's heart sink, "Shit!" He backed away and sprinted for the emergency stairwell. He pulled out his phone and dialed for his boss. "Mr. Pegasus we got a problem." Duke had no clue what would bring the Blue Eyes T.O.G and the Red Eyes O.G. to the same school and frankly he didn't give a damn. Red and blue never mixed.
"Finally remembered my name, did you?"
Yugi stiffened like he was struck by lightning. His stomach was doing somersaults, cartwheels and merry-go-rounds as he was held helplessly in place, staring warily at the dark tanned man. Their eyes were locked until Atem's face seemed to be coming closer. Yugi shook his head and averted his gaze to a corner behind Atem's head. His wiry body dipped and moved around Atem to stand behind the man. Atem followed his every move, matching each step so fluid; they could've been dancing.
"What are you doing here?" Yugi asked, caught in mixed feelings; partially glad the office call had nothing to do with his grandfather and partially trying to adjust to the fact this was actually Atem standing in front of him.
Atem inclined his head, smiling, "I came to see you." He took Yugi by the arm and steered him forward to ruffle his hair. "You don't look as happy to see me."
"I am, I mean, yeah. It's just so sudden," Yugi shrugged free, running a hand through his hair to add shape to where Atem flattened it. "I was expecting my grandpa, is all." Speaking of which, that made Yugi wonder. "Why would you want to see me?"
"I had my reasons."
"Which are?"
Atem's eyes flashed and thinly narrowed, a sharp grin curving his full lips, "Kisara wanted me to say she'll be staying home for a few days. She was feeling a little under the weather this morning."
"Oh," Yugi's heart skipped a little beat. "She'll be ok, right? Is there anything I can do?"
Atem chortled softly, "Your concern's touching. She'll be happy to hear how worried her friend is." Atem winked, "You needn't worry. A small cold is all it is. The doctor says she's gonna need a couple of days of bed rest, but I doubt she'll need that long. She's tough like her daddy."
Yugi had no doubt she was and just as pretty as her daddy too. "How did you convince them to let you see me?"
"I'm an old acquaintance here, plus I fund a good deal of the school's extracurricular activities," Atem said simply and snorted. "With all the money I'm investing, I'd better be allowed to do as I damn well please. They owe me that much."
It slipped, Yugi noticed. That carefully placed carefree expression slipped for an instant when Atem said that. Yugi saw a darker version of him then. He wondered why.
Just as quickly as it was revealed, it disappeared in the same moment. Atem focused on Yugi again, the mask of casual aloofness back in place.
"What is it you do exactly?" Yugi asked without question. At Atem's curious stare, Yugi elaborated, "I'm wondering because of what you said. You can afford to donate money to the school and Kisara attends the private elementary school down the street. Actually," Yugi scratched behind his head, a small smiling playing on his lips. "I'm curious about a lot of things about you. You know some of my depressed life and I don't know anything about you besides you being thirty, you have a daughter and . . . I don't think I know much else. It's not fair really."
"Not fair?"
Yugi shook his head. "No, it isn't. If we're going to be around each other often, I think it'd be good for us to learn a little bit about the other."
Atem lifted an eyebrow, "You really want to know who I am?"
Yugi nodded, missing the serious tone in Atem's voice, "If that's alright, yes. It'd even out the grounds between us, I think."
"Splendid idea," Atem wistfully praised. "I think this Saturday would be a good a time as any. Perhaps, seven o'clock. You, me and Kisara at the Shay la Belle."
Yugi blinked, "Wait, I'm sorry, what?"
"You'll need to dress formally of course," Atem continued like Yugi hadn't said a word.
"Mr. Hassan—"
"Atem—"
"What-ever," Yugi snapped, irritably. He couldn't stand people making decisions for him at the drop of a hat. "I appreciate the invitation Atem but I'm grounded. My grandfather isn't going to allow me to go out this weekend or any other time this whole month."
Atem narrowed his eyes, "Does it look like I give a damn what your grandfather said?" He said in a quiet, steely voice.
"Does it look like I give a damn whether you care or not?" Yugi returned, sternly. "That's my grandfather and I will respect his decision."
Atem tilted his head innocently, and then drew his head back to laugh to his heart's content and laugh he did. The musical tenor ping ponged off the walls, carrying their baritone octaves from here to the second year classrooms at the end of the hall. Yugi had to restrict the shudder raising a blush across his cheeks. That sound had white hot fire liquefying in his groin. Whatever the joke was flew right over his head. As sexy as Atem's laugh was, Yugi didn't see what was so funny. He was being dead serious.
"There's so much fight in you, young buck," He somber up, smirking and pulled Yugi by the arm to his firm, hard, warm chest. Yugi stumbled as he lost his balance and in the process ended up with both palms pressed flat against the man's chest.
'Oh, oh my,' Yugi's eyes grew wide as car tires. His fingers were framed around the outer rim of some well-defined pectorals. Jesus, Yugi mentally hummed. His fingers acted on their own and discreetly squeezed. Yugi licked his dry lips. It was like cupping sliced melons. Yugi vaguely wondered in his empty conscious, if the rest of Atem's body was this chiseled.
His hands, being such curious devils, started guiding themselves down the path of no return until a sizable hand crushed Yugi's fingers in their depths. Atem's breath fanned Yugi's ear, "Don't play with fire, Yugi," Yugi's insides turned to lava. This man's voice was turning his brain to jelly. "You'll get burned dealing with me."
A lithe arm wrapped around Yugi's waist; Atem's spice wood and cinnamon scent completely overwhelmed the delicate clean smell of the lemon pine sol in the hallway, wrapping around Yugi almost tangibly. It smothered him alive, pleasurable heat seeping through his clothes him. Yugi swallowed hard, and said the first thing that came to mind, "I'm not afraid." He failed pitifully to add the fearless tone in his voice.
"You don't have to be afraid. By Saturday, though, you better be," Hot, moist lips grazed Yugi's cheek in a slow, deliberate kiss. Atem's lips lingered, smooth as melted caramel. Treacle poured into Yugi's face like a hot flash.
His stomach went in five directions. If a kiss to the cheek affected him this much; what on earth would those lips feel like against us?
Finally, finally, at last, Atem pulled away. Yugi shivered as the air chill replaced Atem's kiss as the older man clipped Yugi's chin and turned on his heel towards the exit. "Be ready for pick-up by seven o'clock and I'll have you back by eleven. Midnight at the most."
Yugi's fingertips delicately traced his cheek. It still burned, "I never agreed."
Atem stopped at the doors, and looked over his shoulder, "I don't remember ever asking." Deep autumn became as dark as a red full moon and narrowed. That mask was dropped again. Yugi saw it in full effect. This man was someone completely different from the one he'd met. "You'll go because I said so. You don't need any more reason than that." With that said, Atem left Yugi alone in the hall, palm cupped to his cheek wondering if he really should be afraid of this man.
Yugi numbly bumped his back against the sidewall and sighed.
Was it fear or excitement, he was feeling right now?
Something had his heart beating a million miles per hour.
"Give me one reason not to put a bullet in your head, right now?"
Well, wasn't this a surprise.
Atem wrinkled his nose, fingers twitching and eyes narrowed at the jet black Glock 45 handgun aimed a mere inch from his face. "Is that supposed to scare me?" He dangerously mumbled.
"Mighty last words," Yami clicked the safety off. "Is that what you want carved on your tombstone?"
Atem's eyes darted for a moment—just a small moment to the side and returned to gaze at Yami's face, not his gun. He'd known his rival was in the vicinity when he arrived at the high school. Just how close in range he was, was a whole different story. When Atem made it to his car, he was clicking the alarm off his car and ready to get in when a metallic click, clack hummed in his ears.
He knew it was Yami. He'd developed an obsessive sense for the man over the years and had the same conscious reflex to keep his back away from him. Yami was wearing a mid-sleeve and pale lavender dress shirt, which was draped around his body casually enough that one could imagine the lines of his chest and shoulders beneath it. He had on some 7 for All Mankind acid washed grey jeans flare around a pair of dark brown python loafer shoes.
He outmatched Atem's Sean John jumpsuit by a couple of hundreds, easy. "Did you want something, Young Blood?" Atem asked bored.
"Where are they, Atem? I got ten men missing and last word was you were the last one to see them." Yami said quietly.
Atem snorted, "Don't ask questions you already know the answer too. We're too old for that shit."
"Humor me today," Yami gave a warning wave of his gun. "Are they alive?"
Atem ran a hand through his spiny hairs and shrugged, "No, they're not," He caught a blond bane between his fingers and massaged each strand. "I killed each one. Slowly."
Yami grimaced, "Why? I didn't kill your men!"
Atem met his gaze evenly. "I'm not you, Yami. I play to win. You play to get ahead long enough until I get there." He took one step forward. The gun's muzzle touched his forehead. "You could avenge your little boys right now if you want. But then, who would be left to keep this game going? That and," Atem nodded his head to the side. Yami's eyes blinked to the side once and looked back. "Pegasus is sitting outside the parking lot watching our every move. He could end our game immediately. Just a single word and its' over."
"So what? I'd win."
"And have no one else to match moves with? Oh Yami, you know better. Even if I had the chance to end it all, I wouldn't. Where's the fun in that?"
"I'm not you, Atem," Yami replied callously. He was inwardly gratified to see Atem's eyebrow twitch at having his own words returned. "I play by my own rules."
"So, play then." Atem pressed his head harder against the gun, metal denting in his skin. "I'm right here. Don't hesitate. Unless playing pussy is a part of your rules—"
Yami drew his gun back and whipped it across Atem's temple, snapping his head to the side. He tasted blood the instant the metal left his face. Atem's face stayed turned to the side forever, eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched like metal clamps. Motherfucker, he mentally raged. His hand twitched in his pocket, begging to coil back and return the favor. He wouldn't because it wasn't how Atem responsed. It was how the Blue Eyes T.O.G responsed.
"My rules," Yami sneered, peering up at him. Even when Atem faced his rival with a burning expression made for melting iron, Yami stood his ground. "This is my game to win, Atem. Mine. You may think you've got this whole system figured out but I'll be the last one standing. You don't get to determine that. Your death is mine to savor; it's reserved for my pleasure. Your mind games don't mean shit to me."
Blood dribbled from Atem's right nostril; a burgundy teardrop on his dark face. He was angry, no doubt. Enraged was the better term. His thumb swipe up and cleaned off the blood spill. He closed his eyes and sighed. "You really believe that, Young Blood?"
"Damn right."
"Really, prove it."
Atem was upon his equal in seconds and caught Yami in an imprisoning embrace that held his own arms firmly at his sides. They wrestled back and forth, side stepping each other, grunting against the force used until Atem held Yami's back to the side of his car, hands locked behind his back. Yami wrenched at his arms, irritated to find that Atem's grip was stronger than his. Yami grunted as the back of his head was slammed into the hood of the car, hand twisted behind his back
Breaths came in rasps heaving, sweat beaded down the side of Yami's face and he kept squirming until he realized he was anchored down with over a hundred and eighty pounds of raw power, muscle and the scent of spice in his nostrils. Heat erupted all over his body.
And he hated it. He hated it so much.
Atem smirked, "Is that all you've got, Young Blood?" His hips wormed until working his knee between Yami's thighs. The younger man groaned and had to shut his eyes, because his eyes were scorching along with all the rest of his body. Atem moved his knee smoothly out of reach, and then bent down to whisper in Yami's ear, "You still want me, don't you?"
"Fuck you!" Yami spat acidly.
"Anytime you want it baby boy, I'm yours," Atem licked the shell of his ear wrist, rolling his tongue up and down as thoughtfully as though he'd needed the taste there. Yami struggled and failed and quivered and then despised himself for crumbling even a smidge. He knew Atem, with his sharp eyes and calculative mind, would see that and know how to use it. "You know what this thing between us is called, Young Blood? Sexual tension. We outta release it every once in a while with a good fu-ck." He flicked the last word with a wet cluck of his tongue inside Yami's ear.
"Get off me!"
"Do you really want me to, Yami? Is that what you want," Atem dryly whispered; his breath was a furnace in Yami's ear. There was tension chasing up the younger man's body. Atem dipped his torso down so that his chest pressed into Yami's, and rocked back and forth, hips grinding down, his groin sliding along the seam of his pants. Yami shuddered with a little gasp through his clench teeth. Fire flashed the length of his body, and he felt all his muscles flexing. "It doesn't feel like it," Atem continued, because he knew the idea sounded unfathomable, even to Yami's ear. "I should fuck you right here, right now. Make you beg, make you scream."
"No. . ."
"Yes. . . I could touch you," Atem breathed in his ear, with a humid kiss. "Make you writhe. Like I used too . . . remember?"
Yami jerked his face away, "You stole me—"
"I had you first."
"Fuck you!"
"I can do that too."
Yami growled like a wild beast and his instincts became just as untamed. Get away; push away, get free, repetitively surged in his mind. His feet stomped, his arms thrashed and his hips buckled back and forth. He didn't know if he broke free or if Atem simply let him go when he started stumbling to the side, nearly losing his footing.
He was on his hands and knees, head bowed and breathing imbalanced. Atem's behind me. Atem's behind me, his mind screamed. Turn around. Defend.
The sudden pulse of smog blasted his face, a hellish fire. Everything happened in slow motion from there.
The car engine roared to life, Yami's eyes went saucer dish wide as the blue rear end of Atem's car vibrated a foot from his face. He could hear Atem's sinister cackle floating from the open side window as his car floored in reverse. Rubber skidded over the asphalt, kicking rocks and bits of dirt all over the place. Yami scowled and leapt to the side, as the car came careening pass.
The extended exhaust pipe jabbed the side of Yami's face before he was out of danger.
Yami's head bounced off the ground. A nauseating dizziness throbbed in his skull, blinding his eyesight. He couldn't see anything but pure white, as bright as a sunrise in the snow. Blood flooded his ears, and head, he couldn't get his breathing steady or his heart from clawing at his ribcage.
Fuck.
Shit.
That asshole nearly got him. Yami rolled on his stomach and pushed up, slowly, very slowly. He tried to open one, then both his eyes. Yami palmed around for his glock, and found it a couple of feet away. Something glossy, square and black reflected out the corner of his eye. He grabbed it, and flipped it to the side. Colors of red, white and black swam into his vision before Yami could fully make out every gruesome detail.
Atem, Seth, Marik, Isis, Yusei, Shada and about a crowd of maybe twenty or twenty five Blue Eyes encircling the bodies of his missing men aligned on the floor like animal game. That was the thing. It was just their bodies chopped and piled on the floor; arms, legs, hands, torsos and their organs extracted and piled to the side.
They were amputated. All of them. Atem and his crew held their heads out like trophy winnings, presenting their BEA gang signs, half their faces covered in royal blue bandanas.
They had some nerve. Some fucking nerve. The picture crinkled in his hand. Atem needed a reality check. Him and the rest of his messed up cronies were going to need their balls ripped off and handed to them.
Yami felt a sticky stream coming from his cheek. He touched it and came back with a dark red wet tint.
A smile crept on his face. The man not only went into his territory but even came to the school to possibly recruit more Blue Eyes. Because killing a few Red Eyes wasn't enough; he had to come to the school too and try to weasel some students in his clan?
Oh yes, the games were definitely on now.