Author's Rant: There are sure to be mistakes. I apologize. This chapter is long as hell, but one of my top favorite scenes of this story. I think you'll enjoy it too ^_^.
Important Note: Another artist has stepped forth and created more fan art for Fragile! She has a great and beautiful talent and goes by the name arianna96 on deviantart. Please show her some support. The link is provided on my profile.
Corrections Made: Thanks to Ocena Strex
Ravish
Yugi needed a drink. This was way too much pressure. The thought of what lied ahead made his insides tighten in knots. Atem was beside himself with amusement in the living room, his booming laughter trailing behind Yugi when he left to fish around the kitchen contents for something to settle his nerves. He found a sprite bottle, uncapped it and snuck out of the kitchen while Atem and Yami were outside, to have a tour his whereabouts. The house looked bigger than assumed from the outside.
It opened to a largely spaced parlor room, tastefully furnished in burgundy, cream and dark brown, setting a casual and flattering appeal. A couch, loveseat and armchair, all made of soft burgundy leather, were situated on top of a shaggy wool thrown rug with a square glass table and a bowl of black marble rocks as a centerpiece. An overhead ceiling fan lightly rotated, the three flora shaped lights beaming a gold blush around the room. There was a flat screen television in the dead center of a black and grey metal multi-layered entertainment center, which possessed a gigantic collection of movies stacked from top to bottom, ranging from gangster flicks, old school romances, comedies, dramas, and a few selections Yugi had to scratch his head for.
Yugi discovered five bedrooms stretching down the hallway, the two biggest ones parting in separate directions towards the end. There were three bathrooms, one for each master bedroom and one for one of the guest bedroom and each had it's own color scheme. The first bedroom's décor consisted mostly of this bright, eye-aching red and black that devoured the walls, the king sized bed comforter set, the carpet and curtains. Pictures of Biggie Smalls, Tupac, The Godfather, Mariah Carey and Monica, decorated the walls. The bathroom made up the same way, mostly red with black marble and white shower curtains.
The other bedroom was all royal blue and cream, the plush carpet being this unstained cream, the curtains and dresser set. The Godfather crew was pointing their guns at Yugi as soon as he stepped inside the room. Tony Montana was all over the place. Him and Smoky from Friday, either sitting in armchairs with smoke filtering from their mouths or with screwed up expressions on their face. Yugi smelt the remnants of weed coming from somewhere in the room. He found a plastic bag of the green mush sitting the dresser by a pack of Swish wrappings. He wrinkled his nose at the stuff and pressed on. The bathroom was finely designed with jet-black silver marble, royal blue decorations and a giant mirror over the sink.
Yugi left to check out the other bedrooms. The next two, he peeked in and quickly shut closed. They were professional stacked from wall to wall with guns: S&W, magnums, SIDs, revolvers, pistols and they grew in size going down; rifles of all varieties were arranged based on length Various ammunition crates were piled up in corners with serial numbers and small documentation sheets tucked in plastic. He gave the fourth one a lingering peek. They couldn't have been used in some time, he mentally figured. Dust blanketed over the guns and boxes like they haven't been moved in years.
The last bedroom gave Yugi a moment of pause when he flicked on the lights, because it was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It was breathtakingly amazing. Every spanning inch of it was stark white, the lounge chair in the corner, the queen sized bed in the middle, it's comforter set, the walls, the carpet, the tall metal lamp shades, the overhead ceiling fan, the dresser and nightstands. All of it was this pristine white. There wasn't a speck of dust. It was so perfectly clean; Yugi could dirty it with a glance. He couldn't resist. He kicked off his shoes and entered with his mouth slightly open in awe. It was nearly as big as the master bedrooms. The window curtains were drawn close. Yugi's fingers grazed over the furniture as he walked around. What did purpose did this room serve? It made no sense for it to be this deprived of color.
Yugi licked his lips, thinking. His socked feet slid over the carpet as he walked over to investigate the room further. He saw a sliding door closet and went for it. Pushing it open, Yugi reached in and clicked on the light bulb to get a better visual. There were . . . clothes. Many shirts, jeans and shoes, strangely bleached white. Some were blotched imperfectly with many attempts to rid it of color. What was really strange was the fact that the bleach clothes were on one side and the colored clothing was on the other.
Yugi blinked and leafed through the colored ones for some reason, feeling drawn to them. It was the hooded letterman jacket with the Domino High School emblem that caught his eye. There were three. Two for baseball, one for basketball. One had Yami's last name. The basketball one had Atem's last name. And the other—Yugi swallowed, his heart leaping into his throat. He reached up and pulled the one in the middle down.
This jacket. His stomach sunk to his toes, his throat tightened and a sour taste laid on his tongue as his quivering fingers flipped the jacket to the back. He choked and covered his mouth in disbelief.
This was Heba's varsity letterman jacket. Yugi and his grandfather had looked all over the place for it. They'd thought it'd been lost in all the chaos six years ago. But here it was in mint condition, not a scratch on it. The leather was so soft and smooth in Yugi's hands. He pressed it up to his nose and could've fainted from the overwhelming pumpkin spice scent. It was so heavy, as if Heba had worn it yesterday.
Yugi's thump caressed the cotton collar. He heard a splash sound, gaze becoming blurry. When had he started to cry? He quickly rubbed over his eyes and hugged the jacket to his chest. It was something new, a new piece of something that belonged to Heba, something to renew his memory. Yugi buried his face into the leather, shoulders buckling and sobs quietly racking his frame. He took deep breathes to calm himself. Yugi was close to hyperventilating. It was so unbelievable to find something of Heba. To think that Yami and Atem had kept this here.
Yugi's eyes suddenly widened. He nervously looked at the clothes closely. He sucked in.
That was Heba's Nautica t-shirt. That was the Rocawear outfit for his birthday. Those Adidas shoes were his. That was his. This was his. All of it. Everything in here belonged to him! Yugi pushed through the clothes, breathing wildly, his eyes watery and wild. "This, this, this, this, this," he whispered, checking all the clothes he pushed through. They were old, fresh and neatly pressed. His favorite outfits, name brand clothes, and all of his shoes were stacked in boxes. Some clothes Yugi had never seen, but had no doubt that they were his. Everything was in his size, X-LARGE and size thirty-four in pants.
Yugi came to the end. His chest rose and fell as he swallowed to catch his breath. His heart slowed down. It felt suffocating in here. Yugi needed to get out. He walked out, varsity jacket still in his hand as he went to the dresser and rested his hands on top. It was all too much to take in. Yugi licked his lips again to moisten the dryness. His mind was jumbled, confused.
Shaking his head, Yugi didn't think when he pulled the drawers open. There weren't clothes inside. Instead, there were Kodak pictures. Tons them of facing up. "Oh my god," he whispered. He tossed the jacket on the bed and fell to his knees, spreading the pictures out. There were so many. Heba's face appeared in nearly all of them. His young, handsome, cool expression looked up at Yugi as if to say 'what's up little brother'.
But that wasn't all. There were photos of Yami, photos of Atem, photos of all three of them and photos with just the two of them. Yami's face looked so much softer and carefree, as if he didn't know a day of evil as a child. There was this boyish attraction to him back then. Atem was dashing as ever, skin like hot molasses and a crooked smirk that could swoon the toughest woman. He had this air of cockiness about him. Yugi carefully plucked out one picture at a time, staring at them. Each had their own distinct character, background and special moment.
In one, there was a picture of a Yami and Heba sitting in the back of a bright blue 1966 Plymouth Satellite holding up the deuce sign, blunts hanging off their lips. In another, Atem had his left arm draped Yami's neck and his right arm around his waist, resting his chin on Yami's shoulder. They were dressed in baggy jeans, purple wife beaters and purple bandanas, smiling at the camera. Yami held up the gang sign for what must've been the Purple Fiends. Heba was in one with Atem, the two at a folding table playing spades, with Corona bottles next to them. Atem was looking up at Heba with a sneaky grin, but Heba was staring down at his hand, long dark hair in tight cornrows.
Yugi chuckled at the picture of Yami, Heba and Atem caught sleeping in a disarray of arms and legs in bed. Beer cans were all over the place, playing cards and they were all shirtless. Yami's mouth was wide open, Atem was bent over the bed and Heba had his arm thrown over his eyes. In this one, Atem and Heba were sitting in the front seat of a 1960 blue and white race striped Chevy Malibu, wearing Prada sunglasses, neither smiling. They just looked tough.
Yugi secretly wondered when his brother had time to be this way. He always remembered Heba being home, helping Yugi with his homework, doing chores and occasionally smiling when they hung out together. In these, Heba was a whole new person. Not only that, but in most Heba was . . . he was sometimes dressed in gang colors. Sometimes in all red. Sometimes in all blue. Sometimes in all purple.
Yugi frowned. Heba wasn't in—he couldn't have been—it didn't make sense. Yugi shook his head, deciding to save that question for later as he scanned over more pictures. The deeper he went, the more intimate the scenes became.
This picture had Heba and Yami sleeping in bed, half clothed. Heba's hair splayed over the pillows, his arms protectively wrapped around Yami's upper torso. Yami's head rested comfortably on Heba's chest, right over his heart. It was peaceful, soft and unguarded. Yami looked so at ease. . .
Atem was slouched in an armchair, with the Nintendo controller stick in his hand, sound asleep. However, someone must've caught the moment when Heba snuck in and was in the middle of covering him in a blanket. In another picture, Atem and Yami were laying on the couch together, watching television. Atem's hands were folded behind his head and Yami was picking at a bowl of popcorn on the floor, neither with a care in the world. Yugi found one more with the three of them together, in a living room—the living room in this house— laying on the floor. Heba was sitting on the couch with Yami between his thighs, his fingers massaging his scalp. Atem had his head in Yami's lap, sipping from a Miller Lite. The scene snapped right when Atem was passing the can up to Heba.
A small few moments were caught with just Atem and Heba; like one with Heba kissing Atem's temple and Atem's looking pissed about it. The next one had Atem looking intensely into Heba's eyes with so much raw emotion, it almost seemed criminal to witness. Yugi would bet money that neither knew their picture was being taken, especially in another where Heba was leaning against the wall, his head bowed down and Atem's face lost in his bed of long hair.
Wow. That one was definitely a captured moment for the books. Never, ever, ever would Yugi have ever dreamed he'd witness a moment between these three like this. They were at the pier, dressed in long black trench coats, gazing over the seaport, the sunset haloing their bodies. Heba had his head on Yami's shoulder. Atem held Yami's hand. And Atem and Heba were sharing a look over Yami's head. The connection was something out of one of those classic movies.
There were pictures of a bunch of other people too. Atem with some blonde haired woman, in their school uniform. Heba laughing with a tall, dark skinned guy that had similar facial features to Atem. Yami had his arms looped around the neck of two other dark skinned women who could've passed for sisters. Yami had a blond haired, dark skin boy on his shoulders at some kind of festive event, probably the Boom spot from back then. They looked more like a family than a gang. Yugi would've never thought these people could be involved in such violence until seeing them with handguns pointed at the camera, bandanas covering their faces and hand signs held up like trophies.
More and more pictures showed up, all of them more fascinating than the last. However, Yugi found them going further and further back in the past well as well. Puzzled, Yugi collected the older pictures and sat crossed legged on the floor. He had a picture in each hand, comparing the two. His left hand held the one of Atem and Yami looking no older than ten-years-old. In his right, there was a picture of them in high school, maybe their freshman year. How long had they known one another?
One picture held Yugi's attention the longest when he found it in the pile. Older members of the Blue Eye Aces were gathered together, impeccably dressed in wooly blue suits, top hats and white scarves. Young children stood at the foot of their elders, all of them also wearing Sunday formal wear. Handguns were laid at their feet. No one was smiling. Yugi recognized Atem's bubble-round face instantly. There was a kid next to him that had to be that person Heba was laughing with. That dark skinned girl was there and a bunch of others. But . . . one of the children stuck out, the only one who didn't have that bronze complexion.
It was Yami. Yugi would recognize those red eyes in the dark. Yami was standing there, the smallest of his counterparts, next to Atem wearing the bright BEA blue gang colors. The bulky man standing behind him had his meaty hands cupped on Atem and Yami's heads, a dangerous smirk on his face.
"Yami was a blue blood?" Yugi wondered aloud, fingering the picture. That didn't make sense. For as long as Yugi knew, Yami had been the leader of the Red Eyes forever. The Red Eyes existed for as long as the Blue Eyes did. So, when had he switched sides?
"Some folks know better than to poke their noses where they don't belong."
That voice came as quiet as a roaming storm. Yugi froze like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar and looked up. Atem's presence devoured the doorway, looming with this foreboding aura. His expression was tight, his arms folded and his legs spread apart as if to physically announce there was no escape.
Yugi blinked at the pictures in his hand and sighed, frowning. "You can't blame me for looking. I wanted to know where I was."
"People ask those kind of questions. They don't go snoopin'." Atem stepped into the room, eyes darting to the jarred closet door and the spread of pictures.
"I did ask," Yugi countered softly, looking back down at the photographs. "Yami wouldn't tell me. So, I went to look for myself. Then I found Heba's clothes . . . and these."
Atem cocked his eyebrow up at the one Yugi held up. The blue blood leader slowly sat on the edge of the pure white bed and took the picture from Yugi's hand. Yugi crawled up to his knees and laid his arms over Atem's thigh and together, the two of them stared at the picture.
"Did you really hate my brother?" Yugi rested his chin on Atem's thigh. "Because from where I'm sitting, I don't see hatred, but something else."
Atem snorted. "Then you better get your eyes checked. I hate Heba. Always did, always will."
"Maybe you hated him later, but here," Yugi pointed at the picture, "you don't. See how you stared at him? It's how you look at Yami. It's how you looked at me when we were at the pier. That's not hatred, Atem. That's love."
Atem rolled his eyes before flicking the picture away. "I've never loved anyone in my life. Back then, that wasn't love. That was weakness." He lowered his hand down to touch the back of Yugi's neck, index finger drawing little circles there. Yugi hummed, contently closing his eyes.
"Why is everything white?" Yugi asked after a moment. "There were bleached clothes in the closet. Shoes, and everything, all of it. Who did that?"
"I did."
Yugi lifted his head to meet the wine colored eyes.
Atem grimly thinned his lips as he said, "I wanted to erase everything that connected me to your brother. We shared this house; him, Yami and me, when we were young and stupid. This room, we shared our secrets in here. When Heba died, he took a lot more than grief with him. He took a hunk of me and Yami with him. Our bare souls, our rawest fears, he took it all."
"Are you angry with him for dying?"
"I'm glad he died. The bastard got off easier then what I would've done to him." Atem chuckled humorlessly. "Some of us though, we handled it differently than others." His hand lightly trailed along Yugi's neck, carding through the baby hairs there. "I never had a single regret in my life until I met him. It's the only memory I wish I could erase, but then, I would lose a part of Yami I never thought I'd see."
The blue eyes leader leaned forward and scooped up a handful of pictures. His gaze stayed longest on one of himself and Yami wearing their school uniforms.
He suddenly scowled. Atem looked at the open door. "Young Blood, when you gonna learn that you'll never be able to sneak up on me?"
Yugi looked up just as Yami appeared in the doorway.
"How long were you there?"
"Long enough."
Atem rolled his eyes. "You eavesdroppin' now? Pfft, nosey ass."
"Shut up." Yami pointedly looked at Yugi a moment, red eyes glowering before dipping down at the circle of photos. He squatted to his ankles and grabbed several, flipping through them emotionlessly. "You lied to me."
"What?"
"You lied." Yami stood up, cutting his eyes at Atem. "You told me you burned these. Right after our fight, you told me you burned them and here you have every single picture here."
Yugi leaned into Atem's side. "Was that the fight that made you two separate?"
"No," Yami answered right away. "That one was petty. We fought all the time, over minor bullshit. Being young makes you do that. We separated a week after Heba died." He took a seat next to Atem on the bed and took the picture he was looking at away. A small, very tiny smile pulled the corner of his lips. "Seth took this before we went to the Boom."
Atem's eyes brightened. "You remembered that?"
"Yeah, I remember all the crazy shit we got ourselves into."
Yugi leaned in closer. "Like what?"
"The time Atem came home drunk. He tried this new drink called zambooki." Yami chuckled at the memory. "He must've downed about twenty shots back to back before he realized that he was in over his head. It was made of coffee and alcohol. He was so damn slushed; he couldn't pass out or remember how to open the front door. He sat on the stoop crying all night. He ran away. We found him sleeping under the bleachers behind the school."
Yugi gasped, amused. "You fell asleep under the bleachers?"
"Oh, you wanna do that? Alright, two can play that game," said Atem. "Check this out, Young Buck. Me, my cousins and Yami went down to the Boom one night to sample some Shrooms, yeah? Yami thought he was all bad and shit, so he popped about six in at once. When I tell you, your boy here was higher the Empire State Building, he was soaring. We were pulled over by the police and he asked 'Son, how high are you?' Yami said, all slurry. 'No officer, it's hi, how are you?" Atem dodged when Yami swung at his head. He fell back, holding his stomach, laughing hard. "Oh, I cracked up that night. I couldn't hold it!"
Yugi covered his mouth to suppress his laughter, but Yami's scowling face only made it worse.
Atem wiped at his eyes, chuckling. "It got worse in the station 'cause Yami was smiling like an idiot. He kept interrogating the cops with dumbass questions. I swear he asked one of 'em if he knew what a stoner's balanced diet was. He said a blunt in each hand!"
"Yami, is he serious?" Yugi asked between laughter. "You didn't really say that?"
Yami shrugged his shoulders. "I probably did, but he wouldn't know. Atem had a couple himself. He was talking in his shoe when we were in jail, talking about he forgot how to spell his phone number."
Yugi died, slapping his leg. "You two are kidding me. I never would've thought the toughest guys in Domino could be so silly."
"Nah, we were dumb as hell," chuckled Atem. "Real dumb. . . Heba was too."
Yugi stopped laughing instantly, tilting his head in curiosity. "Heba did drugs?"
"No, he couldn't risk being tested negative," said Yami. "The coach would've taken him off the team, but he did drink. He drank a lot. Got so drunk one time he left the bedroom to get some water. He came back with a banana, the second time he came back with a glass without the water, the third time he came back holding the water in his hands, and when we went to check on him, Atem found him sleeping on top of the car with a jug of water."
Yugi bit his bottom lip to keep his smile at bay. It was so hard to keep a straight face, thinking about Heba. Imagine learning that the older brother you assumed to be this perfect, quiet, strong role model, had flaws.
"He was crazy to hang around with sometimes," Atem murmured when the room grew quiet. "He had a way to make a whole room light up with some stupid joke. He'd pop up with these 'you know you're high when you do this' quotes while we're watching TV. Everyone would crack up."
"I never knew he had a funny bone in him. Heba never really smiled at home. He was usually quiet, reserved, sometimes very private."
"Hn, we must be talking about a different person. The one we knew couldn't shut his mouth."
"Wait." Yami had a light frown on his face. "Heba was like how you said, but only when he was with me and Atem. When we were alone together."
Atem gave Yami a strange look. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means . . . maybe he wasn't faking—"
"Like hell," Atem snapped. "He was as fake as they come—"
"Then why keep all of his stuff?" Yugi questioned. "You thought he was real enough for you then." Yugi slipped his hand into Atem's, relieved when the blue blood leader didn't shrug him off. "I don't know the whole story and I won't ask. But you should let it go. Both of you should let it go."
"I'm done talking about this," Atem surged up to his feet, going to the door.
Yami caught his hand. "You love to run away when we talk about him. Why?"
"Run?" Atem spat, snatching away. "Don't fuckin' insult me! I run from nothing!"
"Then sit down," Yami said calmly. "You never did tell me why you hated him so much."
Atem looked at Yami as if he grew an extra head. "Are you slow? The fuck you mean why do I hate him! You more than anyone should loathe this motherfucka's name!"
". . . I've learned to let go—"
Atem stormed up to Yami, forcing the young man to stand tall. Yugi stood from the bed and stepped back, nerves on edge. Seeing the two men standing face to face, menacing as vile villains, reminded the teen whom he was in the room with. Two men who wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in someone's head, who have no problem robbing someone blind and laughing in their faces.
Atem's eyes never left Yami's face as he pulled at Yami's shirt and lifted it up. His finger jabbed dead in his chest. "That's why you need to fuckin' hate him. He shot you at point blank range, right in front of me. You were dead," he whispered. "Dead and he knew how important you were to me – so important. You did not see yourself, Yami, but I did. I saw your face and I knew I failed you." The pain in his voice was almost too hard to hear – too foreign coming from his mouth.
"Heba did that, didn't he?"
The two older men turned around at the broken whisper behind them. Yugi's eyes were hidden beneath his bangs, a shadowy dismay on his face.
"That's that scar isn't it?" He stepped forward, his head down. He walked around and wedged himself between them. Yugi lifted his head and once again, acquainted himself with that discolored scar denting Yami's body. Yugi reached out his palm and covered it. It was smooth and wrinkled.
"You saw this?" Atem asked.
Yugi nodded. "I saw it, when I went to go see him, and—and he was in bed. I-I hadn't known how it happened." Yami grabbed Yugi's upper arms. The teen's heart suddenly thudded in alarm when Yami whirled him around and pulled him back to his chest.
"Look," Yami coldly ordered as he pulled Atem's shirt up.
Yugi looked away.
"Damn you," Atem hissed, snatching his shirt down. "He didn't need to see that!"
"What the hell were you planning to do tonight then? Fuck with your clothes on? You showed him mine, so he needed to see yours too."
Yugi pushed through them.
Atem reached for him. "Yugi—"
Yugi dodged his hand and left the room, hand over his mouth, shaking. He couldn't believe what he saw. He was horrified. The harsh, jagged dark scars that tore across his chest and around his ribs. They were so cruel, so evilly delivered. Yugi didn't see where he went. He just walked into a room and shut the door, letting his feet guide him in the dark to the bed. He collapsed on the comforter, the chill acting like a compress on his sweating brow. There was no escaping the damaged flesh, the racing scar lines.
What'd caused those wounds? A knife? A fucking sword? Because there was no way a gun could do something so sinister. That was malicious! Yugi jammed his fist into his mouth and bit down. He wanted to howl, wanted to scream. What had Atem been feeling when it'd happened? Had Heba really done that to him? Had he really been the one to give that scar to Yami? Why the hell would he do that? Why try to kill them? They looked so happy together. Nothing, none of it made sense!
The door cracked open, swishing over the carpet. Yugi inhaled sharply, his chest tight. The room illuminated in a shower of gold light for all of a minute before the room darkened. Footsteps slid over the carpet. Yugi whimpered into his fist, unable to access why he felt so apprehensive. Yugi forced air into his lungs as he wearily lowered his head to look toward the door.
Yugi watched, bewitched in place, as two dark silhouettes approached, slowly gaining color as they passed through the beam of moonlight.
Atem moved towards him, closing in until he stood in front of Yugi, the way he seemed to do when he was ready to do something intimate. Yugi sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The scent of soap and weed fumes floated toward him, impossible to ignore.
"Why'd you run," Atem's baritone voice dropped in the quiet like an atomic strike. "You're ashamed to look at me?"
"No, never," Yugi softly promised. "I'm ashamed of how it happened. I couldn't. . . I needed to get away. It was so much to take in . . . Heba, I can't believe he'd do that. Not when you were all so happy." He shuddered, exhaling forcefully. The pain in his chest hurt so much. "I'm sorry."
There was an amused sound. "You didn't do this. Why apologize for his actions?"
"I owe you that much, for my brother's own, stupid, careless, fucking cruel acts, I apologize on his behalf." Yugi sobbed shakily. "I wouldn't blame either of you; I wouldn't hold it against you if you took your anger out on me. I'd take it. I wouldn't care—"
"Shut up," Atem boomed without warning. "Shut up talking stupid. Nobody's out for revenge on you or your grandfather. What kind of satisfaction would I get from whacking you off when I planned to be with you?"
Yugi's lips parted, tongue as dry as a desert. He worked himself up to his elbows, and, well, could only study the man who'd just confessed to wanting to be with him. Yugi sat up fully and drew his legs to his chest. "I'm sorry."
"You're forgiven," murmured Yami, "for being ignorant, but don't think you'll be able to make up the mistakes your brother made. No matter how much you may want to, you'll never rewind time. The past is written in stone. All we can do is focus on moving forward."
"Why did he do that to you?" Yugi questioned sullenly to them after a few moments of silence. "I'm tired of dodging this now. Every time I think I can ignore it, something new comes up to thrust me back."
Atem sat on the edge of the bed, near Yugi's feet when he stretched out. Yami took up the sidewall, and leaned against it, folding his arms. He looked to the side. "You couldn't stomach seeing what Heba did to us. You won't be able to handle the truth."
"Let me be the judge of that," Yugi firmly stated.
Atem sighed, flopping back on the bed. "I don't give a shit. Tell 'em. He may as well know how fucked up his brother was."
"Fine," Yami pushed off the wall, sat at the foot of the bed. He leaned forward and started talking in a cold, steady flow that captured Yugi in this permanent trance. "I'll keep it real with you, we don't know why Heba tried to kill us. We were supposed to leave Domino after the home game six years ago. A rental pulled to the stadium. The driver hopped out and gave us the car. Said to leave it in Atlanta and they'd have someone come pick it up. I was in the backseat with Heba. Atem took the first shift to drive. We were . . . he kissed me. I was distracted, never saw it coming. I looked in his eyes when he pressed a suppressor into my stomach. He pulled the trigger twice. I couldn't scream, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe."
Atem took over from here. His arm was over his eyes. "I didn't hear it happen. The music was turned up loud, the speakers were booming the back and all I cared about was getting us out of town. I was so fucking stupid. Heba had the gun at the back of my head before I could say who did it and what for. He told me to drive to the edge of Domino and park. I didn't know what kind of game he was playing. I didn't care. I kept waiting for Yami to say something, but he never did. We pulled over and Heba forced me out of the car. That's when he threw Yami at my feet . . . I thought—fuck," Atem dragged a hand over his face. "I thought he was dead, he was so still and cold. I'd never see your face look like that. . . then this motherfucka' told me I was next. I charged him, stupid me. Heba didn't try to shoot me. He pulled out a switchblade and just started slicing. I hadn't realized I'd lost so much blood until I got dizzy. Even when I fell, he kept cutting into me. I wrestled the gun from his hands and took aim. . ."
Words failed him.
Yugi wasn't sure he could clearly voice the question that lain dormant in his heart for all of these years. He wouldn't know what he would do if he it were true. . .
"I pulled the trigger twice. The gunshot was so loud in my ears. I waited, and then he fell, at my side and smiled at me . . . and you know that son of a bitch had the nerve to say that he had nothing, but love for us? Huh?" Atem sat up, burying his face in his hands. "Who the fuck tells you something like that right before he dies? He wasted his last breath saying some bullshit lie."
"You killed him," Yugi's voice hushed from sorrow and residual suspicion as he grasped the cottony comforter beneath his hands. "Didn't you?"
"Heba had a suppressor on his Beretta," Yami started simply. "Atem said he heard a loud gunshot, so he didn't shot him . . . someone else beat him to it."
"Who?"
"We don't know. There were rumors goin' around about him having made some twisted deal with Pegasus, but that didn't make sense since Pegasus was the one who made sure we lived after the attack. The shit was jumbled, and all over the place. By the time I woke up, half the city was thrown into chaos."
Yeah, Yugi remember that day. Everything had happened so fast. There hadn't been any time to go looking for Heba. Some men in white came and grabbed him and his grandfather, thrown them in a car and drove out of Domino City in the midst of all the destruction happening.
Atem licked his lips and suddenly started to laugh like a maniac. He stood up and started pacing the room, mumbling under his breath. Yugi pushed himself to the edge of the bed, watching the tall figure move back and forth. Out of the corner of his eye, Yugi saw Yami leave the bed and approach Atem from the side. He paused. Atem stopped walking and looked at him.
Atem stilled as Yami reached up and ran his long fingers through that hill of wild hair. His breathing mellowed, like a beast stroked into submission. "We won't be hurt again," Yami murmured, fingers carding through the thick mane. "You can get that outta your head."
"I know," Atem took a very deep breath and gave his head a rough shake. "I know. He's not like that."
"You still trust us, yeah?"
Atem chortled. "You're still breathing aren't you?"
Yami winked. "That's the answer I'd expect." He went to click on one of the lamps in the room, highlighting the brilliant blues contrasting from the golden glow.
Yugi glanced up and looked around. So, he'd wandered into Atem's room then.
"Yugi."
Said boy found the voice who called him. Yami was smirking at him as he took up residence on his left. "Be honest with me."
"I've been doing that," Yugi said carefully. "What is it?"
Softening his tone easing closer, Yami asked, "If it weren't for the current circumstances, say if your brother were alive, why would you be angry? It's none of your business."
"Why would I be angry?" Yugi repeated, raising his voice, astounded. "What sort of question is that? He lied to you two! He manipulated you, tricked you into thinking he was some good person and he tried to kill you! Heba was—he was a liar. . . and you two, you aren't. You've never lied to me."
From where he stood, hands in his pockets, Atem amusingly said, "Being honest murderers, thieves and thugs. Yeah, that definitely puts on Santa's good list. I'm curious too. Why are you so upset?"
Were they stupid? Yugi blinked between them, feeling a little edgy. "I don't see what's so funny!" He said when they started grinning.
"You are jealous," Atem said in wonder.
Yugi whipped his head around to face the cheeky asshole. "Jealous? Right, I'm totally jealous of my dead brother. You're nuts!"
"That's what I think too," said Yami.
"Tsk, whatever. Move." Yugi maneuvered around them and abruptly went to stand in front of the window. He impatiently flung the curtains open and stared into the night. It opened to a spacious picket fenced backyard, with a lonely oak tree in the corner. Dew was already gathering on the blades of grass, setting off a pearly sparkle from the moon.
He was determined to avoid eye contact at all costs, but Yami moved in behind him and peered around him to get a better look at his face. "You can't kid a kidder, kid. I was young too. Feeling inadequate, as if someone else will always have your crush's attention, unable to match up." He chuckled. "You're so easy to read."
"What-ev-er," Yugi angled his head to the other way when Atem came up on his vacant shoulder.
"If you aren't jealous, then what, you feel responsible? That's mighty considerate of you."
"That's right, I do feel responsible. That's all, nothing more, nothing less. I know I wouldn't ever do something so cruel to you. Especially if I gave you my heart."
"You heart," Atem whispered in drawling wonder. "So, if we had your heart, does that mean you would've treated us better? Been a better lover?"
An arm, unsure of who's, went around Yugi's waist. He felt his face, grow hot and cold. The hand on his side squeezed. "Maybe."
"Maybe," Yami murmured in his ear, "or definitely." The long fingers splayed over the cotton material covering Yugi's side and hip.
"I don't—don't know." Warmth pooled inside Yugi's belly, pouring down to his weakened knees. "No," he suddenly smiled, closing his eyes. "I know I would've been a better lover. I like you now. I know I would've liked you then."
"Mmm," Atem nuzzled his mouth into Yugi's temple. "We would've liked you too." Gentle, circling motions massaged in the middle of Yugi's back.
Chuckles rode the waves of silence to follow. Yugi rested his hands over the one cupping his hip and leaned his head against Atem's lips. It was strange, these roaming sensations fluttering in his chest and stomach, as if he swallowed hot water. His skin tingled; his heart sped up by the slowest degrees.
Airy kisses pressed under his right ear, then another lower on his collarbone and another on his neck. A dozen of those moist, carnal kisses grazed Yugi's skin. The arm fastened around his waist, urged him into a wall of warm muscle. Mixed emotions roared to life as the creamy kisses intensified, pressing harder into Yugi's burning skin. His breath quickened.
Fingertips toiled with the rim of his t-shirt, lifting and tugging up. Yugi answered the urgency by raising his arms to assist. The shirt was discarded on the floor. The display of young, partially damaged skin opened a raw sensual need. Yugi's mouth opened in an airless gasp as open mouth kisses assaulted him on his shoulders, his neck and jaw. He tilted his head back, baring his neck.
"Shit, I love that face," Atem hotly whispered.
Yugi opened his lust-glossed eyes. The world was hazy, steaming with this red desire, but Yugi could see it was Atem standing in front of him. It was hard, trying to center on his voice when Yami's hot mouth never let up on leaving trails of tender, open mouth kisses.
"You look good enough to eat," Atem murmured and stepped closer, waiting until Yugi's focus cleared. "Fuckin' sexy as hell." He put his hand on Yugi's back, digging his fingers where Yami's stomach pressed against him and steered him in his space. Atem gently claimed Yugi's mouth, curling his thick tongue through the parted lips. Wet, soft and slow moving, were those head bobbing kisses.
Yugi's hands finally sprung to life and clenched in Atem's shirt. Arousal was growing like a wild fire in his body. A possessive, raw growl bubbled in Yugi's ear. He felt his jaw squeezed and his head was forced to the side, only to be recaptured by a new set of lips, a new kind of taste. Yugi moaned. The fierce hunger in the way Yami kissed him was explosive, magnetizing him to move in closer. Yugi's torso angled in a twist to meet his demanding kiss.
"Yami." Atem wanted a taste of him. Now. He swiftly pulled Yami away to take his mouth for himself, greedily sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Animalist grunts answered back, deep groans followed and messy licking.
Yugi turned around between the enclosed body heat without breaking their kiss and started pulling at Yami's shirt and working on his belt buckle. His hands were shaking. It wasn't fear, more like impatience. He was eager now, more than ever. The kiss shortly ceased for Yami's shirt to leave his body, but then they chose that moment to change partners. Yugi threw his head back on Atem's shoulder, meeting his gapping mouth and deep thrusting tongue. The gang leader's hands were everywhere, palming wherever he found skin.
The boy's willingness was overwhelmingly appeasing. Yami was gratified for the change in attitude. So was Atem, because now, there was going to be no holding back. Furious desires boomed. Wanting more, wanting it to progress faster, Yami lead them to the bed and fell on top, pulling Yugi with him and Atem, pausing at the side to take in the scene. It was like something out of a passion flick, watching Yami roll Yugi beneath him, wedging his hips between Yugi's thighs. His ass rose and fell in a humping, grinding motion. Atem tilted his head to the side, to get a better look.
He thumbed his belt buckle loose and whipped it out before lowering his boxers and jeans to the floor, never breaking his gaze at the exotic show. He licked his lips. Looking could only satisfy his building hunger for so long. His weight dipped the bed as he rose to his knees and grabbed Yami's hips. The red eyes leader momentarily stopped his ministrations with Yugi to look over his shoulder. His eyes seem to glow in the moonlight, like a gemstone under direct sunlight.
"I won't," Atem said to the unspoken question.
The protective undertone was solid as concrete and satisfactory to Yami's ears. He gave Yugi a parting, savory; he could almost feel the savage throb of Yugi's heart, breaking into an erratic thump, thump, thump. Yugi sighed and threaded his fingers through Yami's hair, licking his bottom lip as he drew away. He fought like a devil not to whimper when the connection broke.
Yami leaned back to gaze into Yugi's eyes with a voracious hunger. Looking at him, laying beneath him just as tantalizing as a fresh strawberry. Brown hands emerged from behind. They settled over Yami's pectorals and squeezed. He surrendered to the urging press to relax into the wall of clothed muscles behind him, just as warm lips dived into his neck. Smaller, less calloused hands were romancing over his chest, and dancing over his scarred stomach. Soft mewls emerged, mixed with dominating growls and hums. Every fiber of their beings screamed for sexual fulfillment.
In a display of crazy aggression, Atem took Yami's jaw and forced his head around to meet those smoldering autumn eyes. They kissed, fast and imperfect. Yugi squirmed, shimming his back until he loosened enough to sit up.
Yugi placed kisses on his chest. "Take these off, get them off," he said in a hurry, fingers fumbling with his leather belt and jeans. Yami helped him, never detaching his mouth from Atem. He slid his jeans down, bunching around his knees.
Purple eyes darkened. Yugi tugged the boxers down. His mouth watered. There it was, that thick, slightly hooked erection, poking right at Yugi's face, pumping streams of blood through bulging veins and cum seeping from the tip. It was beautiful. And it looked sumptuous.
"You scared of it?" Yami murmured lightly ending the kissing.
Yugi arched his eyebrows. His face felt white hot with embarrassment and arousal. He swallowed the mass of saliva gathering on his tongue. He shook his head. His blush flooded his face at Yami's crooked grin and the large hand pushing his face forward.
"The hell you waitin' for? Take it."
Yugi paused, looking to the side. "I . . . I don't know. . . I've never—" He flinched at the chorus of deep chuckles.
"How you gay and you never sucked a dick before?" Atem said, moving around to Yugi's side. "C'mere, pussy." Atem shoved Yugi on his back and tugged at his pants. Once he it got it loose and airy, Atem's hand dove through finding cotton briefs, and went on through the slitted hole to containing the hearty lump of hard flesh. Yugi moaned, eyes rolling close and buckled. The gang leader's calloused hand was cold and burning like dry ice.
"Open your eyes."
They shot open on command. Atem's hand grasped Yugi's jaw, gripping as he would a gun. Coiling his fingers around the teen's dick like duct tape, Atem menacingly flicked his wrist. Yugi wiggled. The muscles in his thighs clenched and flexed, hips swaying.
He gave several sharp tugs, grinning savagely. Yugi gasped, he shook, and thrashed. The rapid sensations surging in his body came nonstop, pulsing hot fluids in his belly. It was too much. Yugi raised his hands—Yami appeared from nowhere and locked his wrists between his hands.
Yugi fruitlessly pulled at his wrists. "Yami, no, please no, lemme go."
"What's wrong, Yugi? You scared?"
Yugi shuddered and tried to turn his head in shame.
Atem seized a handful of Yugi's hair and twisted his head back, straining his neck as far as it could go. Yami dragged his blunt nails under Yugi's chin. "Keep your eyes open."
"N-no, n-o-o, uh!" Yugi struggled. "Please, please, please, s-s-sah!" He was going to embarrass himself. The pleasure was immerse and tortuous.
"Look at 'em, Yami," whispered Atem. "He's ready to pop."
"I love that look," Yami nuzzled his nose in Yugi's cheek. "You like that shit huh?"
Yugi managed a curt nod, because he didn't trust his voice to stay strong. Atem's tight hold wrung the answer from his throat.
"You like that shit?"
Y-yes, I like it," Yugi breathed, trembling on the verge of shouting as roars of pleasure, coiled in his body.
Atem stroked him harder, faster. "Say it again."
"I-I like it."
"Say you fuckin' like it."
Yugi groaned.
"Say it!"
"I— f-f-fuck—ah, God, ah!" Spasms flowed to the core of his bones. Yugi lost himself in the orgasmic waves crashing into his groin. He caved into his desire and started thrusting urgently in Atem's hand, until he jerked forward, and came with a strangled grunt, straining through his teeth. Yami watched the passionate flashes race across the teen's face. His lips parted, expression scrunched in a near painful face, and keening breath. His eyes threatened to close as his climax peaked.
"Open your eyes!" Atem ordered with a strong tug in Yugi's hair, forcing the youth's eyes open, and witnessing the slamming effects take place on his face until the final wave relaxed his face. "Hmm, love that face." Satisfied with taking in the sight of his spent lover, Atem released his hold.
Yami channeled his caressing fingers down Yugi's neck and up to his chin, tilting his exhausted face up. He stole a kiss from the helplessly sedated youth, drowning in his savory goodness. For the moment, the moon-blemished room was resounded with moist, slippery strokes of tongue on tongue and tongue on skin.
"I want you now, Yami," Atem voiced in the dark. His fingers ran the center of Yugi's chest, circling around his perked nipples. "Let me," he said, outstretching his other hand.
Time stood still for Yami as periods of the past flashed before him, coming the way Atem's hand did. They were always different, always out for one thing. Some were calloused, some soft as feathers. But they all caused him pain, unbelievably dire pain. Every ounce of his being begged to defend, the closer the hand came. His mind battled with instincts and will, combating back and forth, crazily demanding and surrendering.
Before his mind could reach a conclusion, Atem was touching his face—then another hand appeared, coming from another direction. Yami blinked and gazed down. Yugi's tired face smiled up at him, rubbing the back of his hand across Yami's cheek.
"He won't hurt you. He cares for you, not like them." Yugi whispered as the voice of true reason and realism. It was insane and terrifying how he knew the tortures plaguing Yami's heart.
The red blood tried to subdue that inner despair. He kissed Yugi between the eyes and nudged into the palm massaging his jaw. Yugi arched forward and came to sit upright before working around to slither into Yami's lap. His hands went to the athletic chest muscles and dipped his head to sample one of Yami's nipples, where a scar raced over his pectoral. Yami's head lolled back. He was shivering. He was surrendering. Atem caught him in his waiting arms and began to do to him what he'd done years ago.
He touched Yami as if he were made of gold, reveling in the feel of his supple skin and the years of collected blemishes, cuts and gashes. Familiarizing himself with this older body stirred quiet emotions in Atem. Seeing Yugi's tender affections for his old lover, admiring Yami's response to the gentle touches . . . these feelings are so alien . . .
He reacted the only way he knew how; through physical connection.
Atem pulled them down on the bed. He kissed them both, and laid them out on top, neither understanding the sudden switch in demeanor. Yami tried to sit up, and then Atem's hand was pressing him back with enough strength to let him know he could easily break free. However, Yami didn't. He leaned back on his elbows and gave a small nod, waiting. Atem smiled at him and winked at Yugi.
It was bizarre. Atem just felt this . . . well . . . this need to show all of himself to them. It'd been a long ass time since he'd exposed him to his bare necessities. His fingers curled under the rim of his shirt and in one swoosh, it came over his head and fell to the side. He held their gaze, hands by his sides and head held high.
Yugi was blinking at his face, displeasure appearing on his face, and a shy surfacing smile emerging later. That smile curved a little more. He rolled on his side and crawled to the edge of the bed, climbing up to his knees. He stood at eye level with Atem and allowed his hands to travel over the span the carefully sculptured muscles and ligaments perfectly organized on this specimen of a man. There was a moment's hesitation where his fingers trailed near the scars, all of them hideously grotesque to behold. Yugi couldn't imagine how much pain Atem suffered from this. Yet, were these surface wounds the only ones that refused to heal?
Yugi jumped as a larger hand spread over his and pressed in over the edge of those jagged scars. Yugi looked over his shoulder. Yami moved into his side, encircling Yugi's waist. He moved their hands as one across the smooth, bumpy plains of skin; some places like milk chocolate, others as calloused as tree bark.
. . . Yugi didn't think he could look anymore perfect. With a desire suddenly rummaging inside him, Yugi closed his eyes and veered nearer to rub his nose in Atem's collarbone. He smelt lovely. Yugi flicked his tongue. Atem's chest curved into him. There were kissing sounds near his ear, and then the lips were gliding here and there on his arms. Their arms were where Yugi's tongue learned how to trace over every risen line, that tasted of tart ink and salts. Their dicks bumped, sending stimulating signals.
Speaking of which, Yugi wanted a closer look at what he was up against. He gave Atem's equipment a gander first, immediately bewildered with awe. The thick hunk of flesh bobbed curving up with angry brown veins pulsing hot and ready. The musky scent was stifling and heavy, filling Yugi's nostrils until he grew light headed. The pressure bumping into his ass cheeks tore his eyes away to inspect the other hearty masterpiece. Yami's dick was as big as it felt; nice, long and hooked, made for fucking every tight corner. It was just gushing a red flow from tip to base. And all of that was because of him? He was flattered.
Atem was suddenly pulling away.
"No," Yugi protested softly, grasping at the empty space.
"Shhh, Yugi," whispered Atem.
Yami wrapped his arm around Yugi's neck and guided his head back into a kiss. The sound of the drawer opening and closing was a distant echo, like a sound resonating down a long tunnel. A bottle popped open, followed by a squish noise. Yugi and Yami changed positions, Yami on his back and Yugi hovering over him on all fours. An almost smug grin lifted the youth's lips as he ducked in to continue where they left off. Distracted by Yami's masterful tongue, Yugi wasn't prepared when he felt a propping, slick finger slid up the seam of his ass.
Yugi nearly jumped out of his skin at the unsuspected cold digit. His fingers sunk into the comforter when the finger went on to sink inside him up to the knuckle and twisted. He tossed his head back in airless bliss.
"Fuck yes," he hissed deliciously. He clenched his ass cheeks to keep the finger buried deep as it explored his innards, twisting and rolling in place. Another finger joined that one, adding to the slight sting of pain. Yugi's lips were red, ripe and swell as a mango. All this time he'd gone without a man's touch. Yugi rolled his hips back, whimpering wantonly at the slender intrusions.
"Careful," grunted Atem as he continued pressing inside. "Keep that up, and I'll say fuck it."
"It just feels so good," moaned Yugi. "I can't take much more, it's been so long."
"You better keep still, baby boy." Atem chuckled, further dipping his fingers, wringing a high pitch moan from Yugi. "You makin' me wanna fuck you now."
"Could you, please? Ahhh, ah! I can't wait."
Atem's fingers stilled, Yami's gaze went several shades darker. Hearing those helpless moans became their undoing. Withdrawing his fingers, Atem fixated himself behind Yugi. He slowly drew the teen back into his chest. Yugi sat up to his knees, staring down at Yami's devilish visage, a perfect vision.
"We're gonna fuck you now."
The heated warning in those words seeped into Yugi. A fingertip rested under his chin when it started to fall away. Hot breath fanned his ear and his stomach. Yami sat up from the bed and pressed his face into Yugi's belly, blowing airy kisses. Yugi swallowed hard. Nails slowly traced up his arms with barely there strokes. His breathing labored. This was it. He closed his eyes and nodded.
The bed sheets shifted, the mattress springs creaked as they got into position. Yugi heard a papery tear in the background and the swish of plastic. The aluminum wrapping fell by his side, two of them did. The anticipating was more nerve wracking then the actual moment. Yugi fell forward on his fours, hands braced on Yami's shoulders.
An indrawn breath from behind was Yugi's only warning. A hand slid down the center of his back, following the bumpy trail of spine and then the hard, semi-lubricated head was plunging in. Yugi's gasp stopped in his throat as his limbs locked up on impulse to protect his anus from being penetrating. Still, Atem kept pressing at his entrance, the circle of crinkle muscles fighting back.
"Sss, fuck," the blue eyes leader tightly hissed. Atem didn't stop until his dick full breached Yugi's ass, where he dare not move or risk cumming a little early. Yugi was like a fisted furnace around his erection. The grip he had on Yugi's hips were sure to leave bruises, a nice branded remainder of what they were about to get into.
Yugi let out a rush of air, taking in heaping gulps. He pitched into Yami's chest, elbows caught on either side of his head. A hungry mouth ascended on his. Eyes drifting shut to the thick moisture in his mouth, Yugi submitted, mind traveling miles away from the tender pain in his backside. He didn't resist the kiss even as the tongue threatened to choke him.
However, he learned it was a distraction, something to keep his mind focused on while a widening stretch started to push in.
"Mmm no, mmm!"
Yami cupped Yugi's face and held him as he felt Atem's hand stroke him fully erect and aimed the point of his dick in Yugi. It was harder getting in with the already intrusive member from their other lover inside. Yugi thrashed, moans swallowed, and eyes squinted tight. Yami moved his tongue repeatedly over Yugi's teeth, his lips and his tongue as he pushed in more. The boy's cries were stimulating and worrying.
Yugi's gasps of pain gave Yami a brief pause to see if the youth was suffering. Brown fingers stroked down Yugi's neck and slipped over to grasp tan fingers holding Yugi's face. Red eyes met wine and soon purple opened, watery and glossy with agony and lust. Their dicks were pulsing like heartbeats. Yugi could feel every pumping vibration and the unsteady breathing against his back and chest.
Yugi escaped Yami's mouth and laid his head on Yami's shoulder, unable to support himself.
"Full, so full," he said in broken English. "Ah, go slow. Please, be slow."
Yami nuzzled his nose in Yugi's cheek. "Nice and slow for you," he heatedly promised.
Atem took Yami's hands and braced them beside his head, looking deep into his eyes. Silence stretched for as long as Yugi could handle, wondering if they'd already cum until sweet relief came from one of the dicks withdrawing, only thrust back in.
"Ah, oh my Go-ah ah!" He quaked and shook, as the second disappeared and came back with slight force. The wash of hot breath grazed the back of his neck, followed by the drag of blunt teeth that automatically had Yugi's back arching. A low whine ruptured as he was entered and reentered at a snail's pace. He was constantly filled, dicks trading spaces to brush his prostate. Yugi's fingers crinkled in the bedding as he started knocking his hips back in an imperfect rock, never knowing who's thrusts to meet. They were unpredictable, sometimes Atem pulling out and going back or Yami doing that or Yami withdrawing and Atem thrusting in and out or Yami doing that.
"Shit, shit, shit," Yami gnawed on his bottom lip, pulling at his cuffed wrists. He hadn't felt pleasure this intense in years. It was staggering pools of fire to his groin. He sighs, breath hitching as the continuous frictions strikes at his dick like a match. He was burning, legs bending and flexing at the wild sensations flooding him.
Atem's toes curled, his thigh threatened to cramp as he picked up speed, unable to go on with this fucking slow shit. He needed to have it. He snapped his hips once, forcing startled grunts and growls from Yami and Yugi. He was a red-blooded man. No one could ever dream to say they wouldn't cave into their animal instincts and just start charging in. Atem's grip fastened on Yami's wrists as if he'd escape as he bucked his hips harder and faster, sliding plastic against plastic, plastic against flesh.
Sweat filmed over their bodies, sleeking them in salt and the scent of musky sex devouring the room. The thrusts were even more irregular. Yugi didn't care whose thrusts he met, he just bucked back whenever he felt one leave, never wanting to miss it gone. It was so good, felt so good, and felt amazing. Sensations raced from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair. The physical assault on his prostate left him drooling.
"Fuckin' yes, yes, ah God, y-y-yesss!" Yugi shrieked and howled. "Ah fuck!"
Atem's voice sent ants crawling on Yugi's skin. "Yeah, baby, that's it. Shit's good, ain't it?"
"Ye-s-s-s-s, shit, yes!" Yugi's voice pitched higher got louder.
Yami's demanding mouth sought his and messily licked him, tasted him. His grunts vocalized how he was feeling, some as savage as lion growls. "Fu-ck," he grunted hoarsely into Yugi's neck, slurping at the beads of sweat perspiring. It was getting so damn hot, he was burning.
"Fuck, Yugi!" came Yami's raw praise. "Atem, fuck faster."
"Hell yeah," Atem started pumping harder. The tugs in his muscles cried out in tightening protests. He didn't care. He jammed his dick in and out, angling his hips in a new direction to jerk Yami's dick against the edge or slam Yugi's prostate from a different way.
"I'm gonna—gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, oh God!" Yugi said in a hurried breath, dick heavy with the pearly white. Goosebumps flared on his skin, his heartbeats skyrocketed. A mixing sob and gasp snatched from Yugi's vocal chords. He clawed at the sheets, threw his head back and cried out.
Atem's face pressed down into Yugi's back as he slammed the youth flat into Yami's chest and Yami deep into the mattress and howled out in satisfaction. Nails dug like dull razors into tan hands. Atem's teeth clamped down to keep himself in control as he rode the roller coaster diving orgasm. He was so close to squealing like a bitch as he hollowly thrust in to rid the cum from his shriveled nut sack.
Yami pulled at his wrists with little prevail, suffering the overbearing thrusts, sliding against him, and could do nothing to hold back the building spiral. It snapped and released like fountain. The orgasm forced itself through him as if something were pulling it by a rope. He jerked, body tight with locked pleasure. He rode it high, as high as it'd take him and slowly felt it sink do his dick and break out. Sporadic spurts of cum squirted from his dick, filling his condom like a pot of hot water.
Yugi felt it pooling the plastic and the sticky evidence of his finish, sticking between his abdomen and Yami's. Spent as limp as a piece of thread, Yugi loosely relaxed and let the final little thrusts continue to let out what was left. The slush pop came when the two dicks slipped out.
The bed bounced from where Atem fell over, arm thrown over his eyes. "Fuck," he sighed exhausted. His chest rose and fell. Yugi snickered, blinking lazily at the finished gang leader and tilted his head up to see Yami's eyelids half-mast. Their bodies felt like they weighed a ton.
Panting, Yugi shakily rose to his hands and rolled to the side, which he silently congratulated himself on doing with a body that was heavy as a slab of concrete. Pleasure was still humming in his bones. Neat, gentle caresses started to travel on his arm. Yugi's head listed to the side. Yami's fingertips were drawing figure eights and then Atem was massaging the youth's scalp.
Yami took Yugi's hand in his own as it rested half in his palm and brought it over his mouth. "Go to sleep," he ordered softly.
A kiss pressed in on his temple from Atem. They wouldn't have to tell Yugi twice. He did just that, eyelids falling and slumber swiftly taking over his body. The morning after was nothing, but a distant thought. He was too comfortable, too pleased to think about anything else.
TBC: . . . ~grabs box of napkins and stuffs in nose~ Anyone else need one?