Author's Rant: Thank you so very much everyone. And yes, if any of you spot a mistake please inform me. I try my best to find them but with such long chapters, I'm bound to miss a few. Enjoy!
~Side note~ Corrections have been made.
Consumed
Yugi had woken up at the worst possible time when he was admitted into the hospital. Doctors, nurses and other needed staff were on foot, surrounding his bed, scissoring through his clothing, and firing questions from every direction and the bright overhead light gave him a ridiculous headache. Sometimes he thought he heard familiar voices shouting in the background and other times, he heard his name being mentioned by voices he didn't know. But the sting of iodine thoroughly flushing his arm sent shock waves of agony through his nervous system.
Pain was something he did recognize.
Panic and nausea welled up in his stomach, and no amount of groaning could bury his whimpers. Cottons swabs blotted over the dried blood to unleash a fresh spill of it. Metal fragments outlined the bullet hole, which was a small entry wound but a large exit. It was hell cleaning out the exit hole.
It would scar, the doctor informed under his breath to his assistant, but at least he'd leave. Yugi could hear it all. The talk about how it would look, whether he would be able to continue playing baseball and how lucky he was it didn't shatter any bones. Yugi didn't think he was that lucky. The pain of regret continued to terrorize him in the worst possible way. Whenever his consciousness drug him to the surface of reality, he was met with frightful images of Yami's shadowy face and his ears strung from the low growl of Atem's voice.
Getting the bullet fragments out hurt. His screams would echo from the emergency room and out through the double doors.
It was all Tristan could do not to run in there and pound the doctor's faces in. One powerful howl crushed his soul and had him sprinting toward the double doors like a mad man. "Cut it out! Do you have to fuckin' hurt him so much?!" Three security guards manhandled him to the ground and it took Solomon's calming words to ease Tristan's worries. It wasn't easy for Solomon either, being unable to kiss his grandson's injuries like he used to. This one was much deeper than any bullet could penetrate.
Yugi winced for every time he had to endure the probing instruments. He was flopped on his side, nude from the waist up, and was spoken to soothingly by one of the nurses in hopes to distract him from the retractors used to peel back the burning hole. She gently stroked his face, asked him questions about his family and pushed away the sweaty hairs matted on his brow.
It worked for small moments. Yugi couldn't ignore it, though God he tried his best to. Antibiotic infused saline was washed over the wounds again and debrided to prevent infection. After two hours of extensive care, at long last, the torment was over and bulky sterile gauze was wrapped around his upper arm. Muscular damage was all it resulted to in the end; mostly torn ligaments and damaged skin. The amount of blood loss had been the real worry of the doctor, but he was relieved to find it wasn't as bad.
It would be a long road to recovery, that much was certain. Yugi would see as the weeks passed that time could only heal certain wounds.
Two Weeks Later
Bruises still littered Yugi's body in dark blues, purples and circles of black. The swelling on his jaw had gone down to a light plump and some of the scratches had healed to little scars. The newspapers devoured the chance of broadcasting Yugi Muto's health status whenever information leaked from the hospital; his current home. He'd been interrogated for ten hours during his two week stay from detectives. They asked the same questions repeatedly. A couple even assumed this was in connection to Heba's death and feared a pattern. Or possibility that Yugi was somehow involved with a drug trade gone wrong. Yugi hadn't wanted visitors after they'd left. No one except his grandpa was allowed inside and even his company took some straining on Yugi's part to adjust.
He just wanted to be alone to think and look out the window. The weather had been cloudy and grey for most of his second week. The doctor said he wanted to be sure Yugi was in prime health by the time he was signed out for good and even then, he had a strict profile to abide by. He would need to attend physical therapy sessions religiously every other day if he had any hopes of attending the playoffs in three weeks. However, the chances of him playing were horribly slim. That worried him and so did many other things. Yugi's mind was floating elsewhere, lost, empty and confused. Not even the notion of possibly missing his chance at the title could keep him from questioning over and over again, what had Heba been keeping away? There was so much more to his life than Yugi realized.
During the times Heba had been home, gone to practice, talked to his few friends and played with Yugi, when had he had the time to do anything else? What else had he'd done? What secrets did he have and why—Yugi choked, throat becoming sour and thick—why hadn't Heba tried to fix it so it wouldn't come back to hurt his own brother? The sins amounted to so many now. The already tarnished image of his big brother was being stained and clouded with further bitterness. The few, and there were so few, good memories of Heba were being overwhelmed with these truths.
"I knew your twisted brother and, God help me, I wish I'd never met the fool."
"You think us to be so vile and conniving. It's nothing compared to what your brother put us through."
"My God," Yugi shuddered, head lolling to the side, eyes shut so tight they stung. "Heba, why? What did you do . . .?" Tears bloomed from Yugi's eyes, reflecting memories of Heba's face cold, lifeless face in a redwood coffin, unable to speak, unable to touch and unable to listen. Yugi winced, grasping through the tissue-thin sheets at where he thought his heart was, and let the tears fall. The agony was so raw it shattered him. It wasn't enough to die and leave Yugi with the burdens of taking care of the house and ensuring he didn't fail in school. Heba had to lay on another layer of fear to complicate Yugi's life.
Yugi wanted to hated him. He wanted so very much to hate the idea of his brother. He wanted to hate who Heba was, what he represented to the city and what person he truly was. But . . . how could he? Yugi tried to turn every ounce of his anguish into hating Heba but just couldn't. His cold, lifeless corpse haunted Yugi's mind. The teen heavily swallowed and curled into himself. The tears squeezed their way through, no matter how hard he shut his eyes. Heba had protected Yugi, helped him with his homework and read him bedtime stories. He'd let Yugi attend a couple of his high school practices and carried Yugi on his shoulders at some of the winning games.
What kind of person did Yami and Atem see in Heba? Because the brother Yugi missed and wanted to hate, couldn't be the same one. Was he really so twisted, cruel and terrible? What laid behind those maroon eyes that rarely knew a smile? What . . . why. . . "Heba, what did you do?" Yugi growled, as his hand found purchase in his matted hair and pulled. "What the fuck did you do? Why did it have to be me? Why couldn't you . . . why did you have to die?" Yugi wanted him back. He needed his big brother's hugs. He wanted that protection. Heba was the only one who could make sure it would always be ok. Yugi missed his eyes, his small smiles, his warm, his rusty voice and more than again, he just missed Heba's promises of making everything ok.
Because right now Yugi wasn't so sure it would. The way things were going, he couldn't imagine it getting any better. Yugi buried his face in the pillow, taking slow, concentrated breaths. This hell needed to end. He'd had enough. All these emotions, the sudden onslaught of weakness and regret and sorrow, was just too much. Yugi had thought he'd long since destroyed these feelings, but knew they were only restrained.
Yugi's tears slowed but didn't fully stop. He loosened his grip on his hair, palm full of technicolor strains. Yugi let the stray hairs fall away absentmindedly. "You're a real bastard, ya know," he said in a shudder whisper to Heba's memory. "I wonder now, was this why you didn't think you could be my big brother? Were you afraid I'd judge you, you stupid idiot?" Yugi sighed and finally opened his eyes to look out the colorizing afternoon. He felt so tired now. Sleep was a definite must, but when he did finally rest, it was to images of Yami and Atem's angry faces, the shouts of betrayal and maybe . . . the underlined tones of hurt he thought he heard.
Joey knew it was serious when he got the phone call two weeks ago. And here he was, being summoned back to the mansion, disgruntled and concerned about the state of mind he'd find his leader in this time. The last visit two weeks ago had been hazardous. Paintings, figurines, personal portraits, and wine bottles were everywhere in shattered heaps and messes. The room stunk of booze and was foggy with the smoke of Icy and 'Tupac's Life Goes On' floated from the stereo system that somehow survived Yami's rampage. Joey had been so stunned, he called in Seto, Akefia and Mahado to alert the family that someone had broken in and got the O.G.
That hadn't been the case.
Yami was found in his bedroom, laying across the mattress with his hands behind his head and long legs bent over the edge. He'd stripped down to a pair of red silk pajama pants, leaving a full view of every scar, tattoo and line he'd obtained through the years. He didn't budge an inch when Joey knocked and walked in. The dark wooden dresser was wiped clean of Yami's personal items and slid on the ground to stain the plush carpet. The curtains were pulled to leave a hazy darkness in the room with tiny streaks of sunlight filtering in.
It gave just enough light for Joey to see the closed eyed expression on Yami's face and the firm press of his lips. Yami's hair was all over the place, sticking up where it felt like it. His chest rose and fell in even breaths, his lips were chapped and slightly blackened from the rub of cigarettes and blunt rolls he must've smoked. Joey quietly signaled for everyone to stay in the room when they started migrate towards the bedroom. He tucked his gun in his waistband and entered the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He picked out an aged Victorian chair with red velvet suave and a cushion with gold embroils to sit in.
Joey probably sat there for fifteen, almost twenty minutes staring at the ball of Yami's knees and listening to the raspy sound of his breathing, when the O.G.'s voice broke the silence.
"I shot that Muto kid tonight."
Even though he'd prepared himself for whatever surprise came, Joey didn't hold back the widening in his eyes or the slight drop of his mouth.
"He's not dead though, I know he isn't. I couldn't bring myself to kill 'em." Yami gravelly murmured.
He missed? Joey couldn't believe what he was hearing. Yami didn't miss when he shot, he always got his targets. Joey shook his blond hair, "What da' fuck happened out there, O?" he softly asked.
Yami sighed, long and heavy. "Fuckin' mess," was what he said. "I got pissed off, thinking he'd been fucking around with Atem. I caught 'em kissing in front of his house."
"A fuckin' blue blood was in our turf?" Joey hissed, stunned and enraged. How the hell had he gotten in unnoticed? And more importantly, what had Yugi been doing with the Blue Eyes T.O.G? Didn't that brat know that was an automatic license for getting killed? Joey shook his head again. "Why didn't ya kill 'em? Ya had 'em both right there."
Yami's eyes opened, hooded and unclear. "I'm still asking myself that now. I should've shot them both."
"That don't make a lotta sense, O. That's strange even for you. You've been goin' easy on this Yugi kid since we met 'em." Joey knew it was risky, bringing up a touchy subject, but he just had to know. "Does it have anything to do with that guy from before? That Heba person?"
And Yami, the very man who wouldn't flinch if a bullet was two seconds from biting through his face, had just winced away like he'd been slapped. Joey hung his head in his right palm. That explained a good bulk of this shit then. That was the second time Joey ever spoke the name and it had the same physical reaction as last time. He knew only bits and pieces of what happened in Yami's past, but only what the O.G. allowed to be leaked in the streets. Everything else was shrouded in mystery.
"Word's gonna reach out to Pegasus 'bout this, ya know that." Joey frowned, lips thinned. "Whatcha' gonna do? He might put a lock on you and that fool for a long time."
Yami gave a light shrug. "Max is many things but he's not a fool. He knows better than to fuck around with me. And he knows how dangerous that could be," Yami's voice sunk, drowning in the shadows. "Take ,me and Atem off the streets for an even week and the whole city burns."
"So what happens now?"
". . . I don't know."
That'd been the end of that conversation since Joey had been around. He didn't know what to expect driving down the pathway leading to his second home, but Joey hoped it was a better sight than before. His Tahoe sped along the winding path until spotting the looming Mediterranean home up ahead. Joey spotted a familiar burgundy Avalanche parked on the outer rim of the front yard fountain.
Cutting the engine, Joey shifted his Chicago Bulls snap back to the side, eyeballing the vehicle curiously. Last he'd checked, Seto wasn't due back in town for another couple of weeks since that shit brew down about somebody stealing money. What was he doing back so damn early? Joey stepped out, wearing a simple black t-shirt and dark blue jeans hanging off his hips, showing the waistband of his dark red boxers and with low top black forces to match.
The double doors cracked open as soon as Joey stepped foot on the terrace. Bright maple brown eyes greeted him, belonging to Ryou King. He was dressed in a light blue and white striped polo, grey jeans and black Reeboks. His expression was grime, and shifty when he met Joey's face.
Joey shifted from one foot to the other, tilting his head suspiciously. "Ya good, Ryou?"
The teen nodded, eyes looking everywhere but at J.R.'s face. "I am."
"Then why don't ya look it? Those goons still messin' with ya?"
"No-no not at all," Ryou quickly assured. "It's just." He chewed his bottom lip carefully.
"What?" Joey snapped. He couldn't stand that. "Whatever's goin' on? Just say it!"
Ryou flinched back and used the frame of the door as a small shield. "Yami's not in the best of health right now. He's gotten more news from the East again and it's not been good."
Joey pinned him with a harsh glare. He didn't like the sound of that, but that wasn't anything new. He'd been called here and he'd dealt with Yami's cold attitude plenty of times. "Alright, lemme see 'em."
"Hold on." Ryou pressed his palm to the opposite end of the door to block Joey's way. He wore a new expression now with less nervousness and more determination. It was a gentle switch from a bunny to a tame pit bull, but Joey knew when and when not to take Ryou seriously. "I need to know something."
Joey's eyebrow quirked.
"About two weeks ago a friend of mine got hurt pretty badly. You know him. His name's Yugi. I'd know those kind of bruises anywhere. They're no different from mine." Ryou thumbed over the ones that used to litter his own body, except now they were a faded infliction. "Joey, be honest with me. Do you know who it was who hurt him? He won't speak to me or anyone for that manner. I've tried to reach him by phone but he refuses to answer. I've gone by his home but he doesn't want visitors."
"I might, but what's it to ya? The kid just got roughed up a lil' bit for buddin' in other people's business. You know how the streets work. You got a brother and a boyfriend operating most of it behind the walls."
Ryou shook his snowy mop. "I want to know so I may be able to help him the way he helps me." Ryou clinched the door frame. "No one, not even the friends we talk to, are willing to see me for who I am. He talks to me and treats me like I'm human while even the teachers slink away. He," Ryou swallowed, "he doesn't care that my brother and boyfriend are a part of a gang like the others. I just—I just want to be able to help him the way he's helped me—mmph!"
Joey gave the driest sigh as he mushed his hand flat on Ryou's face and shoved him to the side. He caught the teen by the wrist to balance him before he fell over and ruffled his fluffy white hair. "Yeah, yeah kid I get it damn. He's a saint." Joey left, aiming for the hallway.
Ryou's shoulders deflated in a low slump. "Joey—"
"I got cha', Ryou. Everything's gonna be just fine. I mean it, no sweat." Joey tossed a two finger salute over his shoulder as he wandered down the hall, thinking. This Yugi kid was a real piece of work. Just how many people's lives did he plan on dominating before he got himself hurt or killed? First Yami, then Ryou, fuck even Joey and now to hear he'd been messing around with Atem? This boy better recognize that he wasn't Jesus before someone reminded him he didn't shit gold.
It was crazy. This kid had managed to rattle the O.G.'s chains like no other, besides Atem. What was it about this brat that was stirring everybody up? Joey wondered—
"You're late, mutt."
Joey blinked. He looked around. Oh. He'd made it to the foyer. Wait a minute. "Fuck you," he retorted at Seto. The blond walked in the rest of the way, studying the den that doubled for the Meet on some occasions. It was a whole different kind of place in the daylight with how the sun beams captured every particle of dust floating off the old furnishings and spotlighted the designs of the Persian carpets. Seto was sitting on one of the loveseats wearing a grey sleeveless turtle neck, low riding black jeans and a gold chain around his neck. He had one of his company's laptops perched on his lap, finger tips dancing across the keyboard with rapidity.
Yami was situated in the background near the fire place, loading his handgun and two other guns. He was dressed in a white wife beater, some Levi black jeans, a pair of black and red Jordan's and had a half burnt blunt sizzling in an ash tray. Neither man acknowledged Joey any more than Seto's insult nor even as he walked around the room, spotting more weapons lined on the back walls and inventory documents neatly stacked on coffee tables.
"The hell's goin' on?" he questioned.
Yami held up his gun to look through the back of the barrel, making sure it was clear before he locked it and secured it on the table. "The east docks were ambushed. We lost six cargos of merchandise."
"Six?" Joey screeched. "Got'damn that's a quarter of the funds. Who did it?"
"That's what we're trying to find out now," Seto answered, still typing. "Someone's going through a lot of trouble to sabotage our finances, and they keep doing it in steady increments." He pressed a button, waited and watched the screen flicker. "I can't find the main source because it's been divided into several different locations and every time I get a lock on it, it either divides or disburses into two more."
Joey had been around Seto long enough to interpret some of his viral language. "So, you're saying you've found the person but every time you catch them they dip out?"
"If that's the best way for you to understand, yes."
"You callin' me stupid?"
"You called yourself stupid."
"No, I didn't. Wait, did I?" Joey quietly backtracked to be sure he hadn't. "No, I didn't!"
Seto rolled his eyes. "The fact that you have to think about it proves your own case. Go fetch a slipper."
"Crack another dog joke again. I'm this close to—"
"Pissin' on the carpet? Newspaper's in the kitchen."
"Knock it off," Yami cut in darkly. Joey pouted, folding his arms. Seto snorted and went back to work. "I don't need you two bickering when got some shit brewing. Get a lock on whoever that is, Slim." Yami locked in the last magazine before standing and reaching out to snag his half-finished blunt. Taking a heave, he exhaled the mist, a stream of hot white, before turning to face his senior members. "I got another shipment coming in around three tonight." He tossed one of the loaded guns to Joey. "You'll need that."
The blond caught it, looking confused. "I thought you said the cargos were sabotaged. We only get six every three months."
"This one's got special cargo coming in. You and Seto are gonna go with Mahado to retrieve it for me and escort the load to the house on Winter's Ave."
"What about you? You comin'?"
"No, I got a meeting with Max by midnight. That French poodle of his, Zigfried, called me the other night saying I was summoned." Yami pulled his shirt off, exposing every lean cord of muscle on his chest and abs.
Joey safely stored the weapon away. "About what? Do you know?"
Yami shrugged before leaving the foyer behind. Joey observed his leader's every step, watching for any sighs of hidden repression of what happened the other week. So far the strong ridge of Yami's shoulders sat high and the swag of his stride seemed even. He looked back to normal as normal could be anyway. Joey just wasn't certain it was all a façade.
Joey gave Yami a few minutes before he followed after his leader. Leaving him alone to think didn't seem like a good idea. The blond knew the house like the back of his hand, so when he didn't find Yami in his bedroom, Joey aimed for the den downstairs, which was quietly tucked away from the prying eyes of visitors. The wooden stairs clumped under his weight as he took each one, slow and careful. The den downstairs was a getaway, so to speak, for whenever private shit needed to be discussed, but mostly it was a cave for Yami to tame his beasts in.
The whole décor was probably the only part of the mansion that didn't sport a shred of red. The stairs ended to a step off walkway made of wood and from there were three steps dipping further down into the eggshell and emerald green theme room. The carpet was as plush as a bed of grass and the walls sported an off-white shade. There was a portion of the room towards the back that held the lounging area; two large green leather circular couches, a transparent coffee table in the shape of a diamond and black pillow cushions decorated on the arms. A mini bar sat on the opposite end with the floor made of green and black marble. A wide flat screen television took up a quarter of the high rising walls. Lights shifted from various colorations like soft silver, humming gold and soothing white every few seconds, basking the whole room in comfort and tranquility.
Whenever Joey came down here, he always took in the splendid designs like a tourist. He wouldn't step down from the wooden patio unless invited in. But from here, he could see the back of Yami's head where he was sitting on the couch, leaned forward, rubbing his hands together.
Joey sighed, running a tired hand down his neck. "You know I've been worried about since last time, yeah?"
Yami's head nodded.
"I'm here, ya know, if ya ever wanna chat and shit," Joey chuckled awkwardly. "I'm no good at this sentimental stuff and I can't imagine what's got you mind-fucked but whatever it is, I wished it were over 'cause I'm not used to seeing you so . . . so . . ." So defeated Joey wanted to say.
Yami's shoulders rose and fell before he lifted his hand and flipped his wrist, beckoning Joey to enter his domain. There was hesitation and uncertainty before Joey decided to chance stepping in and coming to squat down by Yami's side. The Red Eyes leader had changed into a red and yellow Ralph Lauren polo shirt and kept his jeans and shoes for the meeting with Max. Yami's eyes were closed, his fingers were braided in front of his mouth and he was as still as a roman statue.
"I hadn't known that boy for more than a week. Barely a damn week and yet, I trusted his word," Yami's voice muffled behind his hands. "It's crazy. Maybe subconsciously I did believe him. That's why I couldn't bring myself to kill him."
Joey nodded to say he was listening.
"I saw something in the way Atem held him in his arms. I saw myself there, stupid and naïve, just like Yugi." Yami chortled darkly. "The boy's so blind, he doesn't realize Atem would use him up and spit him out."
"If that's so, why didn't ya just leave 'em alone? I can understand if you thought they were up to no good but you said yourself, you somewhat believed him, so. . . what?"
"I can't honestly say," Yami mumbled. "I don't know him, I keep telling myself, but my mind doesn't listen. We spoke for a long while once about nothing and everything. That was the same day I handled those punks at the high school. The chat between us had been so casual and open. Hell, I even smiled more than I've done in years."
Joey blinked. "You did?"
"I did, and maybe that contributed to him being alive now." Yami lowered his clenched hands under his chin, half-lidding his eyes. "He's accomplished what only two others could in a matter of a day and. . ." What more could he say? Yugi's presence was alluring and, what's the word, peaceful? Assuring? As if seeing his smile and listening to him talk meant everything would be ok—
"That kinda excuses the brat's life, O, but what about Atem?"
"That," Yami paused, gritting his teeth. "That fool's another matter." That was a haunting question that's stole hours of sleep from Yami whenever he was faced with the perfect opportunity to kill the T.O.G. and oh, there'd been plenty. Many, many, many times Yami had been blessed with the perfect shot to take out the rival gang leader. It'd be too easy to finish this silent war of blood and power with a simple shot.
But then, the game would be over. Atem needed the competition and in a way, do did Yami. If there was no competition, there was no game. No game, no fun.
However, the reasons of keeping him alive and kicking went deeper than that.
And now, with the child thrown in the mix—Yami shook his head. "Damned fool," he whispered. Atem signed his death warrant having that child here. He's practically given all his enemies a loaded rifle to his head.
Yami pushed up to his feet, motioning for Joey to follow behind. A balcony door was stationed in the far corner of the room that lead outside to a winding path curving up a small incline and out to the front yard. Yami's other car, a dark platinum 2011 Camaro, sat in the place he usually drove his red car. Now with it drilled on all sides like a pasta strainer, he couldn't possibly ride around his territory with Atem's new trophy.
Together, the two Red Eyes followed the road up and out to the front yard. Yami turned off the alarm system with his clicker. Before he reached the driver's side, a large hand clapped heavily on his shoulder before he could take another step forward.
Joey's fingers squeezed. "For real, O, ya gonna be ok? I'm bein' serious. We're fam for a reason."
Yami's lips grimly thinned and he gave Joey a hard pat on his hand. "I will be," he said, sounding tired. "In due time anyway. Don't worry about what I'm going through because we got other shit to deal with now. Make sure that cargo gets in here unseen." Yami's gaze hardened. "Don't let anything happen to it. We'll need it all before we know it." With one last pat, Yami brushed Joey away and went inside his car. The engine purred to life before backing out and tearing down the road.
Joey stood there, hands in his pockets, and eyes focused on the back of his leader's vehicle. He wasn't convinced that Yami was fine or eventually would be. Something in him was cut deep and left to bleed. Was there even a Band-Aid big enough to help heal that secret wound?
Joey scoffed and went back inside to see if there were more details to know about for the raid tonight. He knew what was being carted in on one of the fish boats off the docks. Precious cargo were usually imported drugs from the borders and small time weapons. A special cargo though? Those were the big guns. Why the hell would Yami need to have those coming all of a sudden? The only time a supply of military weapons were ordered was to sell out to other groves and neighboring alliances, since the Red Eyes acted as a supply route. But to order an entire ship load? Joey couldn't understand what was going on with his leader lately. Could all of this craziness really be because of one kid?
Joey reached the foyer in minutes. "Slim, did Mahado call about the—oh, you're busy." Those hungry kissing sounds had been muted from his brain. So it was understandable that he'd walk in on his partner in crime in a compromising position with his boyfriend. Joey rolled his eyes. "Look man, don't go fuckin' tonight if you're not gonna get up on time for the raid. I'm not gonna be blamed for being off schedule this time," he grunted, walking in like it was perfectly fine to see Seto massaging Ryou's scalp and moving his lips over his as if sampling a popsicle. Ryou was pulled close to Seto's chest, a roaring blush stripped over the bridge of his nose as his hands fisted where Seto's pectorals bulged through his shirt.
Joey wouldn't admit to being a little envious of the pair and became quietly annoyed at how they continued to kiss despite his company. He shifted in place, tooting his lips to the side in a ball. "Hey, hey I'm talkin' to you!"
Seto swept his tongue across Ryou's soft, smooth bottom lip before tugging it and sucking it between his teeth. Ryou melted into him cozily and softly moaned and he lifted one of his hands to caress the line of Seto's jaw, urging the brunet to open his mouth and accept his tongue. Oh and Seto did, wholeheartedly. He tasted, licked and growled like a possessed demon locked away from its mate for centuries. He allowed the kiss to go on until his partner's dramatic sigh broke the spell.
The kiss reluctantly stopped when Seto leaned away to dig his nose in Ryou's neck, close to his ear. "You know how much I want you, right?"
"There's never been a doubt," Ryou answered, voice harmonized with the mix of adoration and lust. "I love you."
Seto hummed approvingly. When he lifted his gaze to peer up at the hot chocolate warmth in his boyfriend's eyes, Seto didn't doubt his own feelings either nor did he try to hide the raw way his eyes changed to a blue as dark as a waves under the night sky.
"Gimme a few minutes to deal with this clown," he murmured, pulling Ryou closer to press their foreheads together. "Then we'll head out to do our own thing."
"Alright," Ryou said and wrapped his arms around the taller man's neck and kissed him softly. The white haired teen stood up, adjusted his shirt and pants, then gave a small wave to Joey before walking toward the doorway.
Joey chuckled cheekily. "Geez, the way you two go at it, ya act like you'll never see each other again."
Ryou's back went rigid like a nail was suddenly shot through his spine. Seto's eyes narrowed. He cast such a withering glare at Joey he almost sunk into the couch. The blond hadn't realized what he'd said until it finally hit him.
"Ah shit," he groaned, slapping himself in the face. Joey glanced over his shoulder and Ryou was already gone before he could apologize. "My bad, I forgot how sensitive he is."
Seto waved him off. "He'll be fine. Though next time, have a better lock on that mouth of yours. I'll know better to keep that muzzle on whenever you come around humans." Seto retrieved his laptop from under the couch and rebooted it.
Joey guessed he deserved that and let it slide for now. He knew those on the outside looking in, wouldn't understand how loved ones felt about their significant others or family members being in gangs. It was hard knowing that each time the phone rung it could be the police asking you to ID a body. It was a difficult situation to live with, but many tried.
It's been the reason why Joey's never gotten attached to anyone, especially after being the cause of his little sister's blindness. He hadn't had the courage to see her since then. But, after seeing how Ryou so warmly looked at Seto or how some of the other runners would get kisses and hugs from their loved ones, it made Joey want a little piece of that heaven too.
He suddenly thought about a tall dark haired teen with subtle sharp eyes and an even sharper mouth—
"The shipment docks at pier thirteen around two thirty. If we circle around below the bridge, there's a security tunnel used to escort the lot to a connection site. Mahado wants us to hold security of the perimeter until he's secured all the equipment. You'll be posted near the . . ."
Joey blinked, zoning back into the instructions firing off. That wasn't good. His mind had been elsewhere. . .
Atem kissed her cool hand a third time and held the baby smooth skin to his lips a second longer before rubbing it to his face. It'd been a draining few days, dealing with his daughter's withdrawal from him as well as her behavior in school. The teachers couldn't explain how a child so quiet and shy could suddenly become temperamental. She barely said more than ten words to Atem during their time together and even less during dinner.
Every day after school Atem was there waiting for his child to cross the street with the rest of the bustling children who hurried to play at the flowery park. She was the only one who'd look expectedly around the field of parents and look past him for someone else. Kisara looked for the first person of no blood relation to be there and give her that same reassurance about it being ok to be unique. Kisara refused to give up. Even when she saw her father waiting in the midst of the other parents, she detoured to the swing set and sat and waited. None of the children would go near her and she never attempted to play with them.
When the sun would leave the sky, and the skies were auburn and stained with bright red, she'd finally gather her things and leave to her father. The waiting and his daughter's patience had eventually worn through Atem's cool demeanor and opened a darkness he never thought he'd turn on his daughter.
"Why won't you play with the other children?" he questioned while buckling her in her car seat.
Kisara looked out the window and said nothing.
Atem frowned. "Do you hear me talking to you?"
Her bright blue eyes searched along the plains of grass, flowers and around the street corners, wondering, hoping and wishing—
"Kisara!" Atem shook his daughter's shoulders slightly as he forced her to finally look into his eyes."Answer me. Why do you keep looking for him?"
Kisara dropped her eyes and played with her fingers. "I like him," she peeped quietly. "Yugi likes me too."
"And so can other children if you give them the chance."
She shook her head, bouncing her long pigtails. "You scare them away and they run. You tried to scare Yugi away and he didn't."
"I didn't—" Atem caught himself before the lie could leave his lips. He glanced out the open back door a moment and turned back to look at his daughter. "I only want to keep you safe. If you wish to play with the children now, you may."
Kisara shook her head a little harder this time. "No, they wouldn't be my real friends." She gazed at her father pleadingly. "I want Yugi, Daddy."
And the anger returned, brewing and threatening to boil over. "I've told you no. Yugi isn't allowed to come around you anymore. And that's my final word on it."
"Why not?" Kisara asked and was looking at his face with an interest that Atem knew couldn't be good. The bad thing about raising a sensible child was that they couldn't comprehend what it meant when you forbade them from doing something without a proper reason.
Atem schooled his features before they could glower any more. He trained his eyes to stare sternly at Kisara's stoic expression. "Because I said so," he said.
Kisara slowly lifted her head. Atem failed to hold in a small gasp. Kisara looked at him and said nothing. He'd never witnessed a glare violently filled with rage and bitterness. No, that was a lie. He knew that expression well enough to have mastered himself because it was his own. Kisara couldn't have looked more like her father. The sapphire shine in her eyes was soiled in midnight blue and her brow creased and wrinkled above her nose. Atem knew he couldn't count on his daughter to obey when she wore that expression.
"I want Yugi," Kisara sneered and turned away from Atem.
It was something in the way she looked at him that day that left Atem speechless and unable to realize until now, how much Yugi's presence had affected her. It was like he'd cast some lingering spell that could only be removed by his hand. And a little of it seemed to possess Atem's mind to.
All because of Yugi. Could he really blame his daughter? Atem had urges to go and throw caution to the wind just to look at the boy. But he was always tugged back by the rope of anger and betrayal like a noose wrapped around his throat. Atem couldn't bring himself to trust Yugi again or go near the lad if he wanted to. There was too much danger involved. Had Atem known, even heard a small whisper of Yami and Yugi being associates, Atem never would've pursued the boy.
There was no coming back from what happened now. Atem leaned away after planting one last kiss on his daughter's hand and leaving the armchair he pulled next to her bedside. It was nearing eleven thirty now. Max was expecting him and Yami to be on time for some bullshit safety meeting. Atem changed out of his t-shirt and silk boxers into a black, smoke grey and white long sleeve button up, rolling the wide cuffs to his elbows and pulling on some acid washed grey jeans. After tying his black loafers, Atem walked into his living room to find Seth looking over the city.
Atem trusted no one but his family to keep his daughter safe and more importantly, he knew she was in well kept hands when under Seth's care.
The tall, regal posing cousin turned from the window to coolly look Atem over in a single sweep. "How long will the meeting last?"
"Long enough for me to debate on whether killing Pegasus is optional. I already know what he wants to discuss."
"Hm, that Yugi character I presume."
"You got it."
Seth nodded and returned his gaze to the window. He'd always had this thing for wearing a solid color theme late at night, Atem noticed. Like now, he was dressed from head to his socks in black; a sleeveless V-neck, black cargo lacks and Jordan socks. He kept his hair combed back and down his neck, neatly tied in a jet black ribbon. "What was it really that upset you, cousin?" he questioned out of the blue.
A pause. "What are you talking about?"
"That night two weeks ago."
Atem glared. "Don't try to read too much into it. I had a good fuck possible and Yami messed it up. Simple."
"If that were really true, you could've killed him and still had your boy toy." Seth side glanced him. "Did you get attached to the boy that fast? You know it doesn't take long for you to get soft on the eyes with anything that sparkles. You were like that with Yami, if I recall. And that fellow from before too."
Atem frowned, his heart rate picking up, but his mind refusing to admit a thing. "You don't know what you're talking about. I was young and stupid."
"The youth have a more defiant way of being honest. A lot of the decisions made in your youth are made because you wanted them to happen. There's no hesitation. Only a brash and raw desire to fulfill it then and now." Seth shrugged. "You're not as old as you feel Atem and don't play me for a naïve. I know what I see. How long will you play blind until you do to?"
Atem's mouth went dry, tongue basked in nothing but sand. He licked his lips, and sighed every breath in his lungs. "It's not so easy, cousin," he whispered. "If I force myself to see, I may be lost again. I can't afford that, especially now. What will I have to gain?"
"A brighter future then the one we lead. Eventually, you'll want that old life back. The one you were willing to abandon us for six years ago. That brash, younger you, knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would betray all that he knew for something he wasn't sure he truly had—"
The front door opened and closed. Atem left without another word. Seth closed his eyes and smiled small. His cousin was running. Maybe he'd hit closer to the truth than intended.
"Sit down, mon ami. I've never seen you so stressed." Zigfried worriedly watched his lover pace to and fro in his private office, appearing and disappearing in the golden beam of his wall lamps.
Pegasus couldn't sit down. Not when he'd learned some very disturbing news. The city's stability was threatening to crumble. He'd ordered Duke to keep surveillance of the Medium terrain when he'd heard gunshots about two weeks ago. Grinding the information out of the police department took longer than expected but when learning a young man named Yugi Muto had been shot, Pegasus's skin crawled like spider legs were creeping up his body. No one could imagine the overwhelming relief that flooded his mind when doctors said the boy had only suffered moderate damage but it could've been worst.
The few bullet shells missed by the police force—such sloppy investigation skills—were analyzed and traced back to two handguns. Pegasus was livid to see Atem and Yami's names registered under the private underground data base. Calm down? How could he? Heba Muto's death had created such chaotic backlash in the city, it brought Armageddon. Imagine the destruction that would come if it were to happen again.
"S'il vous plaît mon amour," Zigfried gently cooed from the side, as his eyes following Pegasus's every step. "Relax. You'll run yourself ragged before the meeting starts."
Pegasus stopped near the edge of his desk, flattening his palms on the mahogany surface. "Relax, you say," he dully repeated. "My dear, how I wish I could, but at the moment I'm so tied up with stress, it'll be impossible to sit still. I need to move. I must." He leaned away and cupped his hands over his eyes, and dragged down.
"You're placing too much responsibility on your shoulders. Let some of the burden fall on me too." Zigfried scooted off the desk and circled around to wrap his arms around Pegasus's shoulders and nuzzle his nose against his fan of silver hair. "Come and sit."
"This burden is a weight I have to bear because I took it as one I would hold on my own." Pegasus did lean into the shorter man and allowed his muscles to be knitted with long, delicate fingers. "I'm worried for the lives of this city's people. They've welcomed me like a king when I first moved in from Washington and have further helped me establish my goals. How else can I think to help them but prevent as many unnecessary deaths as I can?"
"You are not God, Max. Even he can't be everywhere at once."
"Which makes me eager to cover what he cannot," Pegasus sighed. He dropped his hands over Zigfried's to hold them in place and walked them both, as one, to the tall windows overseeing the city. "The city's mending itself bit by bit and sometimes it's as if the wound is still being nicked open. I strive for peace and order. I want the evil purged fully, but that cannot be so, I know."
Zigfried squeezed Pegasus's back to his chest. "Maybe if the entire city were wiped clean, then it can begin anew."
Pegasus chuckled sadly. "That would cost far too many innocent lives and I'd rather handle it slow and careful than fast and messy."
Zigfried hardly thought so. A mess can cleaned up as easily as it's made. The city was filthy in his opinion and in dire need of a purging. How grand would it be to wipe the slate clean and filter in a new kind of people, ones who could rebuild the city and make it what it should; sanitized, welcoming and a happier one that people would flock to live in.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The door opened. Duke stuck his head in. "Sir, they're here. You want me to send 'em in?"
Pegasus's grip tightened over Zigfried's hands. He cleared his throat. "Yes."
Duke vanished. Zigfried felt the tension returning to the shoulders he'd worked to relax. Pegasus whirled around and placed a neat kiss on Zigfried's brow and led him to the furthest side of the office.
"My dear, as much as I adore your opinion, I must insist you allow me and only me to speak."
Zigfried opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by a finger to his lips.
"Please," Max humbly mumbled. "Indulge me this pleasure. I have a few choice words you shouldn't sully your lips with."
Reluctantly, Zigfried nodded and went to sit in a neighboring chair that allowed him a perfect view of everything to come. The door opened minutes later to the invited guests. Atem and Yami walked in. They cast a simultaneous glance in Zigfried's direction, one cool and one bored, before leveling a mutual disdain at Max.
They were gestured to take the two red leather armchairs positioned in front of Pegasus's desk and he waited to collect his mind, his temper and his concerns in a single unit before sitting as well behind his desk. The wall clock ticked, and no one spoke. Pegasus simply looked at the two, whose eyes were trained on opposite ends of the room instead of on him. That, he found particularly interesting since these were never the sort to allow anyone to make them cower.
Still, whatever reason it was, he didn't care to know. There were more pressing issues to attend to.
"I'm sure I don't need say aloud what we're here for," he quietly conveyed. "And yet, it almost seems a lacking punishment not to repeat it. Therefore, I must ask, what do you have to say in your own defense?"
Atem sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. Yami, didn't bother answering the question.
"I see, so your silence is the only witness to your crime." Pegasus's voice was remote and cruelly cold as a full moon in a wintry night sky. He stood and circled the desk to stand before both men, using every inch of his height. "Make no mistake gentleman, had it not been for authoritative circumstances, I would have you both stomped like the worthless ants you are!"
Atem surged to his feet ready to do battle, but had forgotten why Pegasus was able to order him around the way he could. It wasn't only money, it was in physical strength too. He'd lived longer and had the build of a veteran hidden beneath those name brand clothes. And he used that very strength to cuff Atem by his collar and slammed him back in his chair with a long index finger in his face.
"Hit me, Atem Hassan," Pegasus began slow and crisp. "Hit me and I can assure you that daughter of yours is flown back to Egypt with the rest of your clan!"
Atem's nostrils flared open and closed like exhaling steam. His chest expanded and deflated in five hard deep breaths, eyes blazing with rage. "Do it and see what it gets you," he hissed back.
"Don't test me, boy. As it is, you should know better than to bring an innocent child into the mass of this corrupted city."
"She couldn't stay in that heat," Atem gritted through his teeth. "She needed better care."
"Then have her sent to the alliances in the next state but do not keep her here!" Pegasus snapped back. "Have her gone in three months Atem. Don't make me do the act for you. Honestly you're no better than a spoiled boy. Which is exactly what you both are to me; mere boys playing generals for my toy set." Pegasus paced was predatory and long, going from side to side, head every turning away from either man. He stopped in front of Yami and bent by his side.
Yami didn't satisfy him with a glance or motion.
Pegasus leaned in, lips centimeters from Yami's ear. "You have your weaknesses as well, Sennen. Skeletons don't always stay buried you see because I know that that core of yours is still as raw as the day you were found scurrying about the streets like a bottom feeding urchin. You wouldn't even exist had it not been for connections of others. Anything that's made can be broken." Pegasus listened and like Atem, Yami's breathing steadily became unstable. "Remember 1992, Yami? Police found the burned down home of a family of three but only found two bodies. One man named, Yosho Sennen and a woman named Angelina Sennen—"
Yami shot to his feet but was forced down by his shoulders with hands much too strong.
"How do you think that fire started, Yami?"
"Stop it—"
"Reports say it was possibly started by an electric shortage in the downstairs basement—"
"Let go of me—"
"But what if it were really done by a young boy seeking escape from a household filled with a dick sucking mother and pill pushing father!" Pegasus held the struggling man down, continuing his torture. "They found you, oh yes, but who could think to accuse a seven year old boy with anal tearing and whose system was so infested with drugs, could possibly be the corrupt maniac responsible?"
The adrenaline rush sparked something wicked. "Fuck you!" Yami bellowed. What did this bastard know? Those nights had been cold, the days unpredictable and even worse Yami had always been afraid when he heard his doorknob turn because it usually brought a new kind of pain. "You don't know shit about me!"
He pushed to his feet but Pegasus was ready. He gripped Yami's collar and twisted it hard until a slither of air was all the man could use, as if sucking through a straw. Those memories, those secrets, everything cut deep and sunk in. The truth jabbed him in his gut like a switchblade. Yami felt the fight evaporating from his body, fingers losing their tight clench and the tension in his muscles going slack. He was roughly shoved back in his chair and avoided Zigfried's disgusting smirk and whatever expression was probably on Atem's face.
"I know more then I care to know about you and Atem, Yami. It'd bring me little pleasure to tear you down because my job is to properly promote peace not expose the weakness of a man," Pegasus's voice softened, though the steel hint remained. "That doesn't mean I won't. One thing I will not tolerate is the death of another child because of careless ignorance. It won't happen again, not with me. You'll both be warned, only once, to steer clear of Yugi Muto. If I hear the tiniest gossip that you've harmed him in any way again, so help me, I'll have you both shipped to Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary for every recorded crime I have on file! And you can spend the rest of your miserable lives there until someone else finds some use for your worthless bodies!"
The animosity was suffocating and the tension electrifying, threatening to explode. Atem's eyes flashed mountains and worlds of inner hatred. His nails dug into the skin of his palms, forming crescent marks and his teeth ground out so hard, his jaw ached. Yami's knees shook repeatedly, as his hands cupped over his mouth and his eyes narrowed thin as razor blades. The anger in the room could be felt as well as seen and it coated everyone within it.
"Fuck this." Yami bolted to his feet quickly, knocking the chair he sat in to the ground and stalked out the door. Atem wasn't too far behind, casting a dark demonic glare at both Pegasus and Zigfried before leaving the room.
The front door opened and closed twice before Pegasus finally slumped in his chair and buried his hands in his face. Zigfried made to come near but was held back by an open palm. Getting the picture, he kept his distance and decided to use the quiet to allow the information to marinate in his mind. Yami's past was nothing new but learning about Atem's daughter was something else entirely.
He smirked secretly and leaned away to stare out the window. Purging the city might be easier then he thought.
In the quiet atmosphere, Pegasus sighed and scooted back from his desk to reach inside his drawer. Leafing through the folded documents and other miscellaneous items, he soon found the folded parchment, creased and aged from over six years hidden in his desk. The typed black ink still looked fresh.
Property of Heba J. Muto.
Pegasus lightly tapped the document in his palm and closed his eyes before returning it back in its hiding place. He wouldn't allow this Yugi boy to suffer the same way. Not if he had anything to say about it.
His revealed past set Yami's mind into instant replay. He'd tried and tried for so long to keep his guilt locked away until he was buried along with those bastards he called parents. They'd meant nothing to him. They were only surrogate drones who had sex and gave birth to him. The rest was nothing short of a fucking nightmare. Who could imagine waking up in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom to find your mother being fucked on all ends with extra dicks in her hand? How could asking his father to take him to the park, result in discovering the old man up to his neck in two day old bathwater with a needle extruding from his arm?
Why did asking for a bedtime story always cause a beating or cause him to get sold like property for a dime bag? The only friend Yami had was the sun because when it rose, it was the only sign he had that he was still breathing. Yami broke himself away from all of it and made himself stronger. He did it all by himself.
So as he tumbled and buckled like a wandering drunkard out of Pegasus's home, he couldn't understand why the world was so blurry and the watery taste of salt fell down his cheeks. What the fuck was crying going to do? It meant nothing!
Yami wobbled aimlessly, searching for his car. He couldn't see. He was so blind. The world squirmed into colorless squiggles and . . . and "Damn it!" Yami shouted. Why was everything suddenly coming to a head now? Why?!
"Yami?"
Yami gasped, hands making quick work of cleaning off his soggy face. He whipped around and saw Atem standing there, palms open and expression full of pity. It pissed Yami off. He reached behind his back and pulled out his handgun. His eyes shone the way they had when Pegasus finished relating the story of his torture, the feelings that surfaced forth and the haunting devastation that he was forced to relive it again.
Atem held his chin up, and kept his palms out. "He had no right to say that to you—"
Yami wiped at his face again. "Fuck you," he choked. "Fuck you and your damn pity. I don't need it!"
"I wasn't givin' any, Yami." Atem took a step forward. Yami clicked the gun and Atem stopped where he was.
Yami started to slowly back up and for every step he took, Atem matched him, always making sure they had equal space.
"You exist more than being someone's lap dog," Atem quietly said. "I'd know. You think anyone created could raise up the way you did? Hell no. I'd like to see a man as broken as you were, gain so much so quickly."
"What are you getting at saying all of this, Atem? All I've gained? In the long haul it wasn't for anything! I'm still haunted with loathing and regret! So what would you know?"
Atem took a step forward. "I know plenty," he carefully said. "Wouldn't I? I was the one who found you. I gave you a reason to keep going, but it was you who found your own existence. I only asked you why that day . . ."
The gun shook. "You . . . why now—"
"Because I'm getting tired of this," Atem finished bitterly. "All of it, everything. For god's sake, Yami aren't you?"
"No," Yami retorted. "Because it's all I know. I can't chance that road again. It hurt," he croaked. "It hurt too much losing him and losing you."
Atem lowered his hands by his sides.
"You were the family I needed. You were everything—damn it, I only lived for you two." Yami whispered, crumbling. "I loved him. I loved you. My god and when it was taken away?" Yami shook his head. "Who needs that kind of pain twice? It'd be so easier to kill you and guarantee a future free of that torment."
"Then why didn't you kill when you saw me with Yugi? Huh?" Atem bitterly retorted. "Those shots weren't worth shit, Yami. You can shoot a fly between the eyes and you couldn't land a single hit on me? You shot Yugi but you didn't kill him? And why is that? Because he reminded you of Heba, right? That's the only reason you didn't kill us because you thought you were getting left behind!"
"What about you, Atem?" Yami shouted. "I'm still walking. I'm still breathing. That time in the parking lot. In front of Yugi's house, you had a ton of opportunities. You didn't shoot me because it's all a game to you!"
"I can't kill you, Yami!" Atem's deep voice boomed like the clank of a gong.
Yami's face slowly loss its frown. His gun lowered, but not completely.
Atem chuckled, the tone empty and hallowed. "Yeah, I can't. Yeah it's a game, and when you play the game you try your hardest to keep all the pieces together. I've lost so many pawns to keep the more important pieces alive. I-I. . ." he sighed. "You . . . I want. . . I mean I'm still. . ."
A snort cut off whatever else was sputtering from Atem's lips and when he glanced up he saw Yami backtracking to his car. "Go to hell, Atem," he murmured and when his back hit the driver's side, Yami patted around for the handle and lifted it. "Feed those lies to another fool." He opened and closed the door, crunk up the car and sped off down the pathway. He glanced in the rearview mirror, connecting eyes with Atem's for the entire drive down until the blue blood leader was nothing more than a blending speck in the distance.
Yami didn't believe a word he was saying, not one. Atem had to be lying about everything. He had to be. Nothing he said was true. They, they couldn't be. Yami placed a hand over his heart and tried to will it to stop beating so fast.