Finally, I am back with another chapter! Please enjoy~.
Warnings: *SMUT ALERT* A tame MxM lemon below so proceed with caution, MARIK IS BACK *dun dun duuuuuun*, and the usual 'Blah' applies since this was proofed whilst I was suffering from flu. Not the best way of going about it, I know, but the desire to update got the better of me so . . . yeah, enjoy . . .
Edited 13/10/13: Many thanks to Heartless Lotus for pointing out Osiris uses "Thunder" attacks as opposed to fire. The changes have been made to rectify the error.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!
O-o-O-o-O
The darkness swirled and embraced the two sinful figures on the floor as they clung onto each other. The sound of weak moans mingled with the whisper of cloth as it slid off silken flesh. The trembling fingers of the intoxicated darker male trailing over his companion's body, the actions hesitant and unsure. He pulled his lips away long enough to express the misgivings that had been plaguing his mind since he was persuaded into this unexpected, but not unpleasant situation.
"Are you sure, Osiris?" The voice was soft and filled with doubt, traces of anxiety underlying the question. The sapphire eyes, though dark with desire, showed the owner's unease.
Osiris clung onto Obelisk harder, his bare arms and legs wound around the other's body in a tight grip, his actions fearful that the latter was going to change his mind and leave. Grabbing the dark head, he slammed his lips on Obelisk's, his hands, unlike the other, he was confident, sure . . . and desperate. Each stroke . . . each caress spoke of his neediness. A need that required satiating. It was an opportunity that was too good to pass. It wasn't everyday he could be close, like this, to the man he secretly hankered for.
Obelisk, after learning of several proposals from the neighbouring kingdoms for Kisara's hand, had sought out Osiris so he could drown his discontent with alcohol and good company. Grudgingly, Osiris obliged the unhappy man and ordered the servants to supply them with an abundance of alcohol. Before long, the raven-head was well and truly drunk and thus began a drunken tirade of how much he loved Kisara.
Running his fingers through the long white hair, Obelisk made a humorous jab on how much Osiris looked like Kisara. Slyly, Osiris offered to be a substitute for his sister for that night if Obelisk so desired. He could ease Obelisk's pain if he wishes it.
"Temporary relief could be gained under the concealment of darkness and alcohol," he argued.
With much reluctance, Obelisk gave in. He allowed Osiris' sweet words to tempt him . . . to pull him in . . . To trap him.
"Take me, Obelisk," Osiris murmured between kisses, using his limbs to pull his lover closer. "I am yours for tonight, I can be whomever you want me to be. I can be nee-sama if that is who wish me to be. I will worship you in return. You are my one and only, you are my god."
Their foreplay was awkward. Inexperience made their movements clumsy. Both had never been intimate with another person before and their inebriated state hadn't helped matters.
The first thrust that Obelisk ministered had violently cut through the Osiris' drunken haze and he screamed out in pain. The first climax Obelisk experienced whilst inside a warm body was filled with thoughts of another. He cried out Kisara's name as he came inside of Osiris. He cradled Osiris tenderly in his arms and wiped away his tears after descending from his sex-induced high. Repeating an apology like a mantra.
The second time Obelisk thrust into Osiris he was gentler. Mindful of his small lover, he treated the other with the utmost care, pleasuring him until he screamed his climax. The second time Obelisk came, he cried out Osiris's name. Osiris hugged Obelisk closer, a smile gracing his swollen lips.
By the time they simultaneously experienced their fourth climax, both men were calling out for each other. Succumbing to their exhaustion, they curled around each other's body seeking out comfort and warmth and fell into an exhausted slumber.
When Osiris awoke later that morning, the heat—the presence that had lovingly enveloped his body—was absent. Obelisk was gone and Osiris was alone.
Yami stared at the computer screen, the piece of cream pan he was consuming for breakfast hung limply from his lips . . . forgotten.
He blinked.
And blinked again. Followed by a gulp. The forgotten morsel fell from its precarious perch and dropped onto the table, landing onto the hard surface with a soft thud and bouncing a few times. It broke the still man from his trance.
The Hell?
Yami swallowed again, but found his throat too dry to manage the feat a second time. Tearing his eyes away from the screen, he reached out with his other hand and grabbed the glass of milk on the table. Taking greedy gulps, he downed half the glass to wet his parched throat before placing it back on the table. Once again, his eyes strayed back to the screen and the words glowing from it.
What. The. Hell?
It was Rebecca's fault.
Last night, the girl has sent him a message with a link attached to it. She had carefully instructed him to click on the link and read what he found there. She was going to quiz him all about it the next day. The message ended with a homicidal rape face emoticon, Yami had no choice but to obey.
After a refreshing shower, he made some miso soup for dinner and hit the link.
It led him to a story called Broken Bonds: The Conflicts and Struggles.
It was fan fiction.
Written by person under the penname, Happy-happy Nee-chan.
It was yaoi, but the story was damn addicting.
He spent most of the night reading it. Insisting that he'll go to sleep after one more chapter. One more chapter lead to another "one more chapter" and before he knew it, it was two in the morning and he really had to sleep. He decided to finish the rest during breakfast and he did.
Looking back at the page once last time, Yami bookmarked the page, closed the window and shut off his computer. Once the distraction was gone, he continued with his breakfast. Picking up his phone, he opened it and scanned through the emails, ignoring the ones that were sent by Marik in favour for the ones from Mai-san and Yuugi.
A wide grin spread across Yami's face when he read the message his brother sent him. It was to inform him that he was planning a visit to Domino City in a month's time and reminded him to make good his promise to introduce him to Shizuka-san. Yami thumbed a quick reply to Yuugi, teasing him about his crush with Shizuka-san. It was a pity Yuugi couldn't be here for the launching of Broken Bonds on TV, they could curl up with snacks and watch it together. The last he heard was the date for the first episode was set for the evening prime time slot in three weeks time. Needless to say, the pressure and tension was making everyone involved rather jittery.
After pressing the SEND key, he retrieved Mai-san's email and opened it. It was a memo reminding him of the up-coming interview with Otaku Monthly during the week and to ensure he was dressed smartly because there was an informal photo shoot after. Yami thanked his lucky stars that he was amply supplied with suitable attire. Knowing Kaiba and Marik, they would be dressed up to the nines. He really didn't want to look like a hobo standing next them, no matter how masochistic and indifferent he was about his appearance. He would have to plan his outfit the night before to prevent a mad rush in the morning.
He was no stranger to tardiness and the insane 'get-yourself-dressed-in-ten-second-flat 'challenge due to oversleeping. There were more occasions than he cared to remember when he had gone to work with tops worn back to front and inside out and even mismatched shoes. At that time, Mai-san gave him a murderous glare and called him "a moron"!
Shuddering to the thought, Yami made a mental to note to ensure everything was ready the night before. He didn't doubt Kaiba's ability to make Mai-san's insults sound tame!
Finishing off the rest of his breakfast, Yami cleared up the table, washed the breakfast things and got changed. After packing his bag with his script, phone, lunch and a large bottle of water, Yami checked around the house one last time then set out.
O-o-O-o-O
By the time Yami arrived at the recording studio, there were a lot of people loitering outside the room, some faces familiar to him and some not. Yami politely greeted them, before steering his way around them and made his way inside. He had didn't have too long to spare as he stopped by the convenient store to talk to Sudo-san. Anzu had caught him at the end of her shift and the two spent some time catching up. He informed her of his decision to quit the night job and concentrate on the acting one.
Much to his surprise, Anzu chided him for taking so long to come to that conclusion. It was obvious he should be focusing on his voicing acting career instead of killing himself over two jobs. As much as she enjoyed his company, it was the right decision. After all, did he not wish for such opportunity? Did he not want to make it big? This is Broken Bonds after all. She would be upset if he did not give it his all for Osiris!
Faced with such zealous support, Yami could not help but feel a little happier with his decision. His initial reservation about leaving dissipating a little with Anzu's approval, he only hoped she would feel as ardent when he confesses to her in two weeks time. In the meantime, he was going to work just a few shifts a week. Sudo-san said there should be no problem finding volunteers for the graveyard shift since the money was better. Yami narrowed his eyes at the news, jealousy flaring up at the lucky person who going to share the shift in Anzu's company. It made his resolution to work less waver a little.
Maybe, he could . . .
"YAAAAA-MIIIIII-CHAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNN!"
The voice jolted Yami out of his thoughts, panicky crimson darting back and forth to find the owner of that voice and, perhaps, avoid the molestation that was sure to follow.
A blur of colour shot towards him, the force of the body knocking against his smaller frame like high-speed bowling ball against skittles. It sent him staggering a few steps back.
Shit! Too late!
Spiny arms found its way around his neck and wrapped tightly around it, the larger body rocking his side to side. Yami found his face flattened in a tanned chest and inhaling a lung full of leather and exotic spices.
"Marik!" The angry tone in which the name was uttered was lost on the assailant. The word came out muffled and inaudible, defeating its intended purpose. Thin arms flailed comically as it tried to beat, pry and pull the Egyptian off with little effect.
Burying his nose into to the tri-colour mane, Marik breathed in Yami's scent. "I missed you so much, Yami-chan!" he breathed out. "Why didn't you return any of my calls? Did you know how long I waited for you to call back so I could hear your voice? It was pure torture! I couldn't be content with just listening to the Boy Love version of you; I needed to hear you, my sweet Yami-chan. Of course, should you decide to indulge lil' o' me a live Boy Love performance, I wouldn't complain. I mean, that would be awesome and hot and—"
"Marik, you idiot!" The second voice was stern and firm. "Let go off Mutou now! You're suffocating him!"
Marik pulled back and looked down at the gasping red-faced male in his arms. The watery glare informed him that his object of affection was not pleased about the manhandling. Marik mouthed a silent "Oh" in response as he slid his arms away from its stranglehold, the lean hands giving the shoulders a gentle pat and resting lightly on them. A sheepish "Sorry" was soon added.
"I see you have your voice back," Yami said dryly, glowering at the offender after giving Kaiba a look of gratitude for saving him. "I gather you followed my advice and drank lots of honey mixed with warm water?"
A wide grin spread across the Egyptian's face. "Yes, I did and I was careful not to over-exert my voice. I made sure I didn't yell too loud when I came." Marik sounded pleased with himself.
Yami face-palmed and sighed.
"Psssst, Kaiba!' Marik whispered conspiratorially, flapping his hands and waving the man over. "Want to see something good?" The Egyptian dug out his phone and began playing with it. The huge leer on his face spelt impending disaster of the perverse kind and alerting the taller man to be on guard.
"No! Don't you dare, Marik!" growled Yami, his warning rang loud and clear . . . It also fell on deaf ears.
Stretching out a hand, he tried to snatch Marik's phone away. However, Marik being taller and longer limbed and Yami being vertically challenged, the phone remained tantalisingly beyond his reach. Yami cursed his dwarf genes.
Cutting his eyes at the pair and not liking the way they were grunting and grinding against each other in the struggle, Kaiba said contemptuously, "I hardly think there is anything you can show me that will in-ter-est . . . me . . ." Kaiba's comment faded into silence when the image of neko-Yami flashed before his eyes. Cerulean blues widened disproportionately and he gaped open-mouthed. After swallowing several times, he finally found his voice. "What the fuck was THAT?"
"My new wallpaper! Cute, huh?"
Kaiba looked as would bust a vein or a blood vessel—from the nose—as he grabbed the phone and stared at the picture.
"Why the fuck do you have a picture of kitty Mutou on your phone?" he fumed. He decided to skip the "how" to spare himself the torture.
Eyes wide, he was vaguely aware of someone in the background muttering, "Kill me now" into his hands as he continued to gawk at the picture.
Not even Marik's reply of "Oh Yami-chan, I'll gladly take you up on that offer" could divert his attention away.
The shot of Yami's face was not familiar to him. He had been through all the photos from the press conference and memorised each of them. This shot of Yami's face was not amongst them. The expression was more natural as though the photographer had captured Yami in a state of relaxation, much like that unguarded look Kaiba caught when Yami was looking out of the window in the car on the way to the Kaiba Corp. This photo was new to him.
Where . . .? Unknown to him, the question must have been evident on his face.
"Like it?" Marik purred contently.
"Where did you get this? I don't recognise the mug shot."
Marik chuckled and held his hand out for his phone, ignoring how reluctant the other man was to part with it. "I sent a request to my fan club. I told them I needed some photos of Yami-chan and my fans humoured me with a response. A lot of photos were from the 'meet and greet' session we had outside the hotel, it was quite astounding, actually. I think I have enough material to make a dozen scrapbooks. Any requests? I plan to do a French maid theme next."
"MARIK!" roared Yami, his features scrunched up in a look of horror. "Stop using me in this perverse pastime of yours and stop trying to get others to join in your insane cause! I mean, did you have to get your fans involved?" He stamped a foot in agitation.
Kaiba tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he listened to Yami scold Marik, his mind drifting to the image imprinted in his mind.
It was no wonder the hentai used it as his wallpaper!
"Good morning, Kaiba, Marik and Mutou-san." A deep, rich voice interrupted Kaiba's thoughts, and Marik and Yami's quarrel. "Ah, I see you've found your missing kitten, Marik." The amusement in the words did not go unnoticed by those who heard it. Marik barked out a laugh and Yami spluttered and flushed scarlet. The word "kitten" triggering lascivious images and a fresh bout of teasing and protests between the pair.
Resentment rose in Kaiba. He hated the way everyone was accepting and even supporting Marik's claim on Yami. Just because the hentai was vocal about his interest, did not mean Yami was his! Such preposterous assumptions irked him.
"Well, it's good to see you again, Raphael," Marik said with a grin. He clapped a heavy hand on the large man's shoulder and added playfully, "It's even better to see you without that ominous shadow trailing behind you. Tell me, where's our Kaiba stalker today?"
"Marik!" Kaiba's voice bristled with indignation. Even without saying Amelda's name, the mere mention of him was enough to stir up tension. Yami could feel Kaiba's hackles rising.
"If you had been here yesterday like you were supposed to," a steely voice interjected, "you would have known why Amelda-sensei is not present."
All eyes swerved to the speaker, Ota-san's was staring at Marik, his expression unforgiving as the stern tone he used.
"Kaiba-sensei, Raphael-sensei, Yami-kun," the director greeted warmly.
"Ota-san," all four male returned politely.
"How are you feeling, Yami-kun?" Ota-san enquired, temporarily ignoring Marik and turning his attention to Yami. "Is your voice better?"
Nodding, Yami smiled at the director's kind concern. "I am feeling much better now. Thank you for asking."
Ota-san beamed brightly. "That's good to hear. It would be a pity if you were unable to perform to today . . ." his expression darkened slightly as he glared at yesterday's absentee, "especially after getting Marik-sensei back." The biting tone of the director and his frosty countenance informed Marik he was not to be forgiven easily.
Marik put his hands together and bowed. "I am truly sorry for my absence yesterday and I will do my best to make up for progress lost," he apologised. When he looked up again, his eyes were gleaming with sincerity.
"You know the punishment for pulling a stunt like that, right?"
"Of course. I have everything prepared."
Yami observed the exchange with astonishment. How often did Marik piss off Ota-san that they have an unspoken understanding like this? He looked curiously at Kaiba to enlighten him, but the latter responded with a small shake of his head, warning him to drop the issue.
Yami responded with a minuscule nod.
"Good," Ota-san said, moving away from the group. "Then let us proceed. We have a lot to cover and very little time to do it in. We are running low on borrowed time, whether it's to do with Raphael-sensei or the dreaded deadline; we need to make every minute count. Do not let me down again, Marik-kun, or next time I will not be so forgiving."
"I understand," Marik said humbly, bowing again.
It was then Yami realised the power Ota-san had over all of them. The man was truly frightening when angered. His quiet, dignified ire, so different from yesterday's outburst, was much scarier. It reminded Yami of Kaiba's.
The director clapped his hands to gain everybody's attention. "Right then," he said, motioning with his hands for people to gather together and settle down. "Let's get started, shall we?"
O-o-O-o-O
The three youths stood in front of the spirit master and General. "From now on, Prince Osiris will be participating in your training sessions," informed Gadius. "So, as seniors, be sure to guide him."
Ra sniffed, eyes narrowing to amber slits. "So, we're reduced to babysitting then?" he asked, the disgruntlement was plain to hear. "Don't expect me to subdue or repress myself because of this brat! I refuse to stoop to his level just so he can train!"
Osiris scowled at the speaker, his fists balled tightly by his side. "Don't underestimate me, Ra!" he seethed. "And don't hold back on my account. I am sure I'll be able to take whatever you throw at me and I will give as good as I get, that I can assure you!"
Ra snorted a reply.
Obelisk laughed and patted the ruffled royal. "So you are here to play with the big boys now?" he said good-humouredly. "Good for you! It was getting boring sparring with Ra, he's all work and no play! With you around things can finally get interesting!"
Osiris batted the offending hand away, the fiery glare turned to the cheery one. "I am not here for your amusement, Obelisk!" he growled. "So stop treating me like an imbecilic child! I'll show you both of what I am capable of!"
Sensing the rising tension in the air, the instructor quickly intervened. "Ra, Obelisk, I would like you to take turns to transform into your spirit form and demonstrate your abilities."
Both youths nodded, Ra showed his reluctance by muttering under his breath, "What are we? A freak show?" It earned him a glare from the older man.
"Ra, you can go first!" ordered the instructor.
Ra strode stiffly to the centre of the arena. Osiris watched the figure get smaller and smaller into the distance.
"Whenever you're ready," the instructor called out, his voice carried across the room in resounding bellow.
A flash of gold erupted around them—a light so bright, the audience had use their hands to shield their eyes from the blinding glare. When Osiris glanced back to the arena, he gaped at the sight before him.
In the centre, hovering in mid-air was a golden bird-like dragon. Its body reflecting light and shone like a flaming beacon. It was so bright—it hurt to watch.
"It's magnificent," whispered Osiris in awe.
"Yes," the instructor agreed. "The Spirits reflects a lot of the wielder's traits. Some may even argue that the form is influenced by the wielder's persona or aspirations. In Ra's case, its beauty."
The prince chuckled. "Yes, he does appreciate beauty, doesn't he?" Mesmerised, he watched on. The golden creature pushed back his head and charged an fiery beam at the absorber, a black hole in the wall. The abyss absorbed the attack.
"Good! Ra, return."
The surroundings dimmed and the room's ambience was restored to its normalcy once more. Ra walked back with arrogance in his gait, his expression lined with superiority as he observed the others.
"Obelisk, you're next."
Obelisk grinned at Osiris. "Watch and be amazed!" He snickered at the unimpressed prince and bounced off in the direction Ra was approaching.
The golden youth returned. A smug smirk plastered on his face. Osiris chose to ignore him; he refused to enflame the other's bloated ego by fawning over his beautiful spirit form—even if was richly deserved.
"Good work, Ra," the instructor praised, looking proudly at his student.
Much to Osiris' annoyance, Ra's smirk widened.
"Obelisk, you may commence!" The command reverberated around them once again.
As if on cue, a blue flash filled the arena. Osiris watched with fearful fascination as a vortex of blue swirled around Obelisk. It grew, increasing in width and height until it almost touched the ceiling . . .
There, in the centre, was the formidable form of Obelisk's spirit. Huge muscles adorned the giant's body, the biceps rippled when it flexed its hands in eager anticipation of a fight. The creature was enormous and intimidating. Osiris did not, for one moment, doubt the fear the spirit was capable of instilling as it towered over its enemies. It breathed power and destruction. The young prince trembled inwardly, praying he would never have to face it in battle.
"As you can see, Obelisk emanates brute strength. It's all power!"
Ra sniffed his disdain. "All brawn and no brain . . . or beauty for that matter!" he said cuttingly.
Osiris stood motionless and gawked. "I think it's stunning," he countered, watching unblinkingly as it retracted a fist and dove it forward, sending a ball of energy into the absorber with the punch.
Wind whipped around them from the force of the attack, causing their hair and clothes to flutter wildly.
"Obelisk!" the instructor yelled, calling for his student's return.
Osiris watched as the creature dissipated, leaving Obelisk in his human form. The youngest participant found comfort from the familiarity of the dark youth. After seeing the frightening beast he transformed into, he was never happier to see that annoying male.
"Osiris," General Gadius prompted. "Your turn. Now remember, you must call forth the power from the depth of being—from inside your soul—and draw it out. Once the power has been awakened, let it manifest itself into a shape, a form. Most wielders keep the same form throughout their lives though there are instances where it changes. Such cases are rare though."
Osiris listened to his mentor with rapt attention.
"Go and give it a try," he suggested softly. "And do not be disappointed if you cannot awaken the spirit the first time. Normal wielders can take up to months of diligent training before they can tap into that power—just remember not to exert yourself. For novices, the experience is draining."
Osiris nodded and began to make his way to the centre of the platform. The observers watched with bated breath as the boy closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in concentration.
At first nothing happened.
Obelisk gave a small groan of disappointment; he was dying to see what form the stubborn royal was going to evoke whereas Ra's lips curled into a sneer. It was obvious the boy failed.
Concerned for his charge's welfare, Gadius was about to call for Osiris' return when the trainee's body began to shift. Swirls of light curled around him, banishing the small figure from sight. As the light increased, volts of lightning shot out in random spikes around the space that confined the wielder, spreading further with each passing breath. Tendrils of red began to take form, giving it substance.
Vivid, red scales replaced the blaze of light and spidery fingers of static and in a few heartbeats, a vibrant red dragon appeared before them.
All four gaped at the long majestic body of the crimson spirit that curled and slithered in the air—challenging the audience with an air of haughtiness and an impertinence gaze.
Realisation struck the two teens simultaneously. "Grace," they whispered together.
As if it heard them, the Dragon demonstrated its power by opening its larger mouth to charge up a large ball of energy. A loud crackle was emitted when it finally dispersed its attack into the target with one thunderous breath. Once again, intelligent eyes turned to its observers and Obelisk swore he detected a smirk! Then, it dissipated. Red exploded outwards and amassed in a soft fluttering motion, like blossom petals swirling in the wind, to reveal a delicate and small figure; his fragility more painfully obvious after the imposing presence of his spirit.
A broad grin on Osiris' face spoke of his delight on his achievement.
"Hey!" Obelisk called out, waving his arms about and jumping up and down excitedly.
Pulled out of his trance, garnet eyes slowly look at the spectators . . . the smile still lingering on his face. Then silently, Osiris slipped in a boneless heap on the floor.
"Osiris!" Gadius and Obelisk called out as they sprinted towards the slumped figure.
Even though his speed could not match the General or the youth, the Spirit Master ensured he was not far behind them. Unwilling to show his concern, Ra followed with unhurried steps.
The General was the first to reach the unconscious male. Kneeling on the floor, he picked up Osiris and laid him gently on his lap, the pale head resting in the crook of his arm. Obelisk crouched down beside him on one knee, an arm dangled over the other. Sapphire eyes filled with worry as he observed the still male.
"Osiris," Gadius called out softly, anxiety entwined with the name as his fingers flew to the boy's neck to check his pulse. Once he was satisfied that Osiris was not in any danger, he brushed the damp tendrils of hair away from the ashen face and tucked it behind the ears. "He pushed himself too hard again," he sighed, a hint of irritation underlining the reproach. "It's so like him to not pay heed to sound advice."
"Ha! That's just like Osiris," Obelisk cackled. "Obstinate and refuses to give up, has a hot and volatile temper to match his stubbornness . . . much like that tempestuous dragon of his, by the looks of it! Figures, he'll have a wild and tumultuous spirit form!"
"Better than that lump of muscle you have as a spirit form!" Ra sneered. "It can't take flight so it's nothing but an overgrown target! You make it too easy for others to decimate you!"
"Yeah?! Just because I can't fly doesn't mean a thing! Watch me swat you right out of the sky like the bug you are!"
"Ra! Obelisk!" The spirit master admonished, the cold look of disapproval he gave the bickering pair spoke of his annoyance. "This is not the time to squabbling like a children. Do I need remind you of whose presence we are in?"
The youths flushed red at the rebuke, their eyes nervously steering from their trainer to the General who was looking grimly at them.
"Sorry," they both uttered, their heads lowered in shame.
Silently Gadius slowly got up. Despite carrying the prince, his movements were smooth and agile. Before making his way to the exit, he stood before the chastised pair, his icy glare prolonging the discomfort he bore down on them. Then, in a scathing voice, he said, "If the next generation of overseers and protectors are nothing but a couple of unruly and undisciplined boys, then it's safe to day Metahtes is doomed!"
Without another word, he turned and stormed away. Leaving three shocked males gaping after him . . .
All five actors looked at each other briefly after the picture on the screen stilled, the same question burning in their eyes.
Was it good enough?
O-o-O-o-O
When it was break time, Marik had disappeared to the reception after he was notified of a delivery for him. When he re-emerged, he was carrying a few bags with boxes burrowed inside. Squeals of delight were expressed as he pulled the boxes out of the bags and opened them to reveal cakes and pastries of different colour, sizes and textures lined in neat rows. Paper plates, plastic forks and napkins were handed out and selections made. Afterwards, some disappeared with their treats to the vending machines for beverages whilst others escaped for a quick smoke.
Jounouchi and Honda had taken everyone's drinks order and had gone to vending machines to purchase them. The rest of the regular cast remained where they were, relaxing in their seats and enjoying their well-earned break.
Yami was a little disappointed that there wasn't any taiyaki, but the strawberry shortcake he eating was just as heavenly. He savoured each mouthful slowly.
"Oh, before I forget," Marik got up and went to where his possessions were. He returned with a bright coloured gift bag and held it out to Yami. "Here, this is for you . . ." he paused, "in case you were mad at me."
Stunned, Yami looked at the bag and then at Marik. He was getting a sense of déjà vu, his greedy mind wondering if it contained taiyaki. His eyes brightened a little at the thought. Balancing the plate on his lap, he wiped his hands over his clothed thighs and took the bag from the outstretched hand.
"You shouldn't have," he said softly, a small smile of gratification hovering on his lips . . . and freezing when he opened the bag and looked inside.
Sobering up, he snapped the bag shut and scowled at Marik. "You shouldn't have," he repeated with greater conviction.
Rebecca shimmied closer to Yami and nudged him in the arm with her elbow. "What did he get you?" she asked in a loud whisper, trying to keep the note of curiosity in check and failing miserably. Judging from the others' inquisitive looks, she wasn't the only one wanting to know. She was, however, the only one shameless enough to ask. It made her the perfect victim for what was to happen next.
"Yes, Yami-chan," Marik drawled wickedly, his eyes brimming with mischief. "Why don't you show Becca-chan what I got you."
Tight-lipped, Yami sent the man another glare, then picked up the bag and placed it by Rebecca's feet. "See for yourself," he growled. He stiffly picked up the plate off his lap and began eating again; ignoring the unhealthy amount of interest the mysterious gift was accumulating and the curious stares at him.
Feeling wary of the way the two men were behaving, Rebecca eyed the bag nervously. "It had better not be something X-rated or perverted!" she exclaimed, suspicion lacing the accusation.
"NO!" Yami's firm and swift reassurance alleviated a little of her fears, but Marik's ensuing snort made her uneasy again.
"That's a matter of opinion," Marik scoffed gleefully, his lips quivering with suppressed mirth.
Passing her plate to Shizuka, Rebecca gave the hentai a slanted glare and picked up the bag. Slowly she opened the bag and looked inside. A horrified gasp escaped the teen as she angrily pulled out the item.
"You're an evil man, Marik!" she shrieked, brandishing the offending item at the culprit. "Evil, evil, EVIL!"
A loud guffaw exploded from said man.
In Rebecca's hand was a twelve-inch plushie of Osiris and Ra . . . bound together with a thin red ribbon. The white and gold heads of the dolls wobbled perilously as the hysterical girl waved it around and threatening to pummel the donor with it.
Marik was beside himself with laughter.
"You vile man!"
"Orangeshipping for the win!" Marik hooted triumphantly, slapping his knee and doing a little victory jiggle in his seat to drive home his point. "My fans are shipping Orange like you wouldn't believe. They absolutely love Yami-chan."
The smugness he exuded along with the words was enough to cause Rebecca to have a mini-meltdown. "You're not getting away with this," she huffed, wielding the Ra plushie menacing. "Just you wait until I get a hold of a Obelisk plushie! It'll be Purpleshipping all the way."
Yami put down his plate and sighed. "Don't I get a say in this?" he asked, rubbing his temple wearily. Having polished off his cake there was nothing to distract him from the noise pollution surrounding him. The least he could do was try and stop it.
"NO!" Ironically, the two conflicting voices were suddenly unanimous in their opposition. Both were glowering at him. Yami would have laughed had it not been at his expense . . . as usual.
Groaning, he took the dolls from Rebecca and dropped them back in the bag. For the sake of peace, it would be better if the items were out of sight and hopefully out of mind. Lucky for him, Jounouchi and Honda appeared with the drinks and the incident eased up somewhat. Shizuka tried to placate the seething Rebecca and Kaiba worked his death-glare on Marik, silently warning him to uphold the peace and keep his mouth shut.
Soon after, harmony was restored once more.
O-o-O-o-O
"So, Yami, did you go on the link I sent you yesterday?" Rebecca's question carried across the table loud and clear, causing the occupants around it to still their movements and peer curiously at him. Even Kaiba, who was preoccupied with his phone for a good part of their lunch, lifted his head in anticipation to Yami's reply.
A heavy silence descended around the table, drowning out the background noise of the restaurant they were currently in.
"Y-yes, I did." Yami dropped his gaze back to his bowl and began nervously toying with the vegetable and noodles inside with his chopsticks. He popped a slice of carrot into his mouth and began chewing slowly, hoping the action would deter further questioning.
Unfortunately, it wasn't so easy. It was Rebecca he was dealing with.
"And?" the teen pressed. Yami swore the girl's eyes held a sadistic glow to it.
"I-it was . . . um . . . interesting."
"And what chapter did you get up to?"
Yami choked on the noodles he was shoving into his mouth, his face reddening to coughing fit he was experiencing, and to the memory of the last chapter he perused. He mumbled a random number, ensuring it was a few chapters behind the latest one he read.
Rebecca's excitement deflated like a punctured airbed. Slumping over the remainder of her lunch, she began stabbing it with the ferocity of a sulky child.
"Were you referring to the fic I was talking about?" Shizuka asked the teen cautiously. It took a second for her realise what her friend did and she swiftly added, "You recommended it to Yami-kun?"
Rebecca nodded silently.
"What are you two talking about?" Marik demanded. He stopped long enough in his endeavours to flirt with Yami to ask the question. His "Yami-chan" senses becoming alert with the mention of the name.
"Something that doesn't involve you!" growled Rebecca through her pout.
"If it involves Yami-chan, then you can rest assured I'll want to know about it. So spill, Becca-chan!"
"Fine! If you must know, it's this fic I recommended to Yami!"
Marik cocked a golden brow and smiled. "Is it good?"
"Yes."
"Is it yaoi?"
"Yes."
Jounouchi and Honda made gagging noises to the affirmation.
"What pairing?"
A smug look settled across the freckled face before exposing a toothy grin, "Purpleshipping!" declared Rebecca.
It was Marik's turn to make the gagging noises.
Yami rolled his eyes and went back to eating, listening half-heartedly to the banter between the pairing rivals. A part of him wished he were in the park enjoying a quiet lunch break as opposed to being at the restaurant and sitting next to the hentai, but Jounouchi and Marik had adamantly refused to take "no" for an answer and insisted he join them. Not wanting to be a spoilsport, he caved in.
The crew, sans Ota-san, all went. It resulted in a large rowdy group that drew a lot of attention from the patrons in the restaurant. At first, Yami was apprehensive about being approached, photographed or even filmed during their time there, but Marik informed him that rules have been set and made known to each of their fan clubs stipulating privacy during moments like these. As a reward, the actors tolerated the requests for quick photos when out and about if they could spare the time. Overall, the fans respected the rules, but that's not to say there weren't instances where eagerness overrode courtesy.
Shizuka said it was best to avoid eye contact if possible because it could, for some, be construed as inviting company. Yami wondered if Marik ever heeded that piece of advice considering Rebecca, at one point, insisted he changed his phone number more often than he did his underwear. Marik teased the girl by asking if she was even aware he wore undies!
The thought troubled Yami more than he'd like to admit. He wasn't sure if he found the knowledge of a slutty, promiscuous Marik more disturbing than his going commando habits. He shuddered at the thought.
Raphael's warm laugh shook Yami from his contemplations.
"They never give it a rest, do they?" Raphael's voice trailed into a good-humoured chortle.
Honda snorted. "Yeah, there's no peace when those two are around that's for sure. Tell me, Raphael, who is worst: Amelda and Varon or Marik and Rebecca?"
Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose as he deliberated. "I think its has to Amelda and Varon," he sighed and dropping his hand. "They fight about everything and anything. It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't turn to me to settle their disputes after, but they do and it's a lose-lose situation for me. I despair of them sometimes." Despite the complaints, there was a small smile of fondness curling on the corner of his lips. It countered whatever protests he made.
"Yeah, Amelda's more bitchier!" Jounouchi grounded out. "Not that Varon isn't underserving of it either. The guy, like our dear colleague, Marik, is asking for trouble when he opens his mouth! I feel for you, man. Being stuck in the middle must be a pain!"
Everyone paused for moment of empathy for the poor man, even Marik and Rebecca, ironically enough, gave him a look of sympathy . . . and then continued with their dispute. It made everyone laugh. Yami shook his head and smiled discreetly. The hentai, in a way, had been missed.
Draining the last of his water, he peered over the rim of his glass and caught blue eyes staring at him from the opposite side of the table. He felt his face heat up at the enquiring gaze and the slight tilt of the chestnut head with the tiny smirk as they locked eyes. They needed to talk, he needed to inform Kaiba of his decision. If only they could catch a moment alone.
Yami shivered delicately at the thought of the last time they were alone. The blush across his face deepened and he dragged his eyes away, but not before he saw the message conveyed in those cerulean eyes.
Later, it promised.
O-o-O-o-O
The phone vibrated violently on the wooden surface of the nightstand, silently protesting it's muted state and waking up its owner. A slender hand shot out of the blanket and began patting blindly around the area in search for the device. After fumbling for a few seconds, the phone was successfully located and a tousled head emerged from the cocoon of bedcovers.
Sleepy eyes unglued themselves and fluttered open to focus at the phone screen. Adept fingers accessed the phone with practised ease and tapped into the mail inbox, the eyes widening to see eleven emails awaiting her attention. Ten from the fanfiction site she used to publish her story, Broken Bonds: The Conflicts and Struggles and one from the fan club she had recently joined.
Sitting up, the receiver of said mails scanned the subject of each mail. Out of the eleven emails, six were reviews, two were favourites to her story and two were informing her that she had new followers. Squealing at the response, she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around the blanketed legs, her eyes still fixed on the phone. Satisfied she was comfortable, she opened the first review and began to read:
Dear Happy-happy Nee-chan,
You have no idea how much I love the latest chapter of BB:TCaS, there was so much Purplehsipping lovin' in it. Being the BIGGEST PURPLESHIPPING FAN ON THIS PLANET, the smut was AMAZING. It was so beautiful to see Obelisk and Osiris finally become one—even if it was under false pretences at the beginning. I am confident that now Obelisk has had a taste of Osiris, he will forget about Kisara and love Osiris forever and ever. Ra will never have Osiris because Osiris belongs to Obelisk AND OBELISK ALONE! Ra and Kisara WHO? Muhahahaha!
Thank you for the wonderful Purpleshipping moments. I am now your biggest fan. Please update soon. I can't wait to see what happens next.
Love, Mana.
Stunned speechless, azure eyes stole across the room to look at the orange hard-back notepad lying on the table. It was the same notepad she wrote her fic in. The same notepad that contained the most recent scene of her story, spawned from a mixture of obsession, humping plot bunnies procreating at the speed of light, too much time on one's hands at work and the need to have her favourite pairing screw the hell out of each other.
Frowning deeply, Anzu looked away from her notepad and down to her phone again.
"Oops," she said softly.
~To be continued~
O-o-O-o-O
Author's Note: Yay, another chapter done, and one with a bit o' smut thrown in too . . . Can anyone guess what Anzu wrote in that notebook of hers and would you like to see it? I have been seriously toying with the idea of serialising a BL version of Broken Bonds, what you see in this chapter is a taste of what's to come. Interested, anyone?
On the subject of Broken Bonds, I have been fortunate enough to be gifted two amazing pieces of fanart for it, one from my sweet Mel and the other from the lovely Shiro No Yami. Be sure to check them out. The link is on my profile page. I would also love to see the picture from the passionate Yami E, but sadly can't think of a way to gain access to it. If anyone knows a way to upload pics on the Internet without registering to a site, I'd love to hear from you.
For those who were wondering what the other email was. It was headed: To my wonderful fans . . . from yours truly. Any guesses to which fan club Anzu's joined? LOL~!
Initially this was going to be monster chapter, but after much deliberation and advice from my dear friend, Mel, I decided to stop where it did or it'll never get posted this month. Procrastinating is a bitch and so is verbosity. Being an avid fanfic reader myself, I know how torturous it is to wait for updates. I hate to do it to others.
As usual, my humble thanks to: RikuAnimeloverButler, Giraffescanfly, Mom!Princess, Star-Simple-Dust, Shiroi no Yami, Jbubbles, CrimsonStrawberry17, Ma-chan, Ariana, Ocean Strex, Mel, Yami E, AyaSeth, Arlownay1991, EeveeLover141, Chibi and Heartless Lotus (welcome to the insanity that is Voices). *bows*
Again, my apologies for the tardiness of this update, there's just been so much going on in my life lately that it was hard to find the energy, time or motivation to write. I hope there are people still eager to read this after the long absence and I hope it is still enjoyable as ever. If you can, spare me a word or two so I can squeal like Anzu when she receives a review in her inbox. Thanks for reading~.
O-o-O-o-O
All replies to anonymous reviews have now been removed to my deviantART journal. Please refer to my profile page for the link. Many thanks.