Ryou-sama Rated R for Rape/lemon, swearing, torture, chickens etc etc etc. Disclaimer: don't own them any of them. Damn. Note. There are WAY to many fics that make Bakura being the dominant. Fuck that; if only once. (Or Fuck Bakura if you have the opportunity but hey) And if I may, dedicated to the three lads in my grade, Sound-crew head, Honour student and Beast. Who are all that and a bag of chips. Thanks for the screw.


"Go- Gomen nasi!" the teens quiet little voice sounded pathetic, even to himself.

"Pitiful," his dark half grunted. He aimed one last kick solidly in the pit of the smaller boys stomach, making his Hikari double up in pain, coughing blood.

"Gomen," whispered the small one, he hated the taste of his own blood on his tongue. This should not be happening. By every account, the hikari should be the one to hold the power.

Bakura crouched cat like before the boy lying crumpled against the wall, his silver hair scattered deliriously around him. 'Stupid. Worthless. Weak. Little. Shit' he thought, being linked to anyone, in anyway was bad enough; being linked to a twenty first century teen who was as weak as Ryou acted, was insufferable. "Why the hell did you have to be my Hikari," the words fell into the smaller boy's mind like stones, "Why couldn't you be less disappointing?!"

"Gomen, Bakura-sama," Ryou could only whisper as Bakura continued to hit him with hate through their mind link.

The spirit narrowed his eyes dangerously, "you cant apologise your self away, nor the agony of living with you, stupid hikari," he reached out to grab a fistful of Ryou's silver hair, pulling his head a good bit off the floor, making the small one wince and shut his eyes tighter.

Ryou let a single tear slide across his cheek, "What else can I say?"

Bakura snarled and then hauled up sharply, making Ryou cry out as he was yanked into a sitting position, head still being pulled savagely upward.

"Why the fuck are you asking me questions? It's not like you matter enough for the time of day. And," he broke off to punch Ryou agonizingly hard in the centre of his chest, making the boy start violently as all the breath left him, he gasped harshly and coughed blood again, a small stream of crimson trickling down his chin, "that was for being a cry-baby. Worthless Hikari"

Ryou was struggling for air, panting with his mouth slightly open, It wasn't like he was altogether thrilled with having a yami.

Bakura watched as a steady drip of blood fell on the blue and white striped tee Ryou was wearing, blood was something that his little hikari was good at, Ryou's blood was almost sweet, with a metallic tinge to it Bakura had never tasted before. He ducked his head swiftly and licked at the scarlet stream, making Ryou start with revulsion, this was the part he hated most. Ignoring the utter disgust his hikari was drowning in, Bakura proceeded to lick Ryou's blood off his chin and lips, taking his time savouring the taste, once impossible for him when they had shared the same body.

Ryou braced himself, knowing through trial and error that what was coming next was both inevitable and unavoidable. Bakura closed his lips over the teens, thrusting his tongue deep into Ryou's small hot mouth to taste the last of the blood. There was nothing whatever romantic or caring or gentle about this "kiss" it was a transaction, or a theft at any rate, Bakura taking what he wanted.

This was a system that Bakura had found over the few months since he had been granted his own body, Ryou would seem to pick a fight with his Yami, following him around, or talking to much, or inviting people over, then Bakura would obligingly beat the shit out of his little light, take what ever blood had been drawn, then let Ryou heal until he would get annoying again.

The former tomb robber sighed and tossed Ryou to the floor again, finally standing and stretching his arms above his head, "Make sure that the Pharaoh and the other pests don't get to know of this one either Ryou, or else I will not be responsible for any harm that may befall them."

Ryou nodded quietly, eyes shut tight to prevent any more tears.

"Good," Bakura kicked the boy slightly, then sauntered to the door and out, "Oh, and your father phoned," Bakura called over is shoulder, "he said he'd be away for another month, a break through he said."

The Spirit laughed and left Ryou to drag himself together like he always could. It was actually very courteous of Ryou's father to be conveniently located halfway around the world at any given time in the year. It would have impeded Bakura's comfort to have to deal with an annoying protective parental figure. Probably he'd end up sending him to the shadow realm, not that that would be all that bad, but hell, sending microwaves to the shadow realm got old, let alone people.

Crashing on the couch, and clicking the TV on to some random anime, Bakura sat in otherwise silence, eating sugared raw Pilsbury ready-made cookie dough out of the container with a spoon.

He could not figure out Ryou; the boy woul dpossitively hound him occasionally, he certainly seemed to regret it when he was getting the shit beaten out of him. Bakura didn't consider himself cruel, not without reason anyway; he liked his space, especially when a weakling like Ryou was invading it. And he wasn't sadistic unless there was a cause for those too, like Ryou's blood for example.

Why the fuck was he thinking so much? He must not have added enough sugar. Pausing to frown into the half empty cookie dough container, he jumped up and fished the kilo bag of sugar out of the cabinet, pouring for a few seconds until the container was full again. Of sugar mind you.

That should do it. Bakura settled on the couch again, making up his mind to confront Ryou with the reason for his suicidal hounding as soon as possible.


Once the hall way was quiet and he could was sure he could hear Tenchi and Ryoko blaring away, Ryou rolled on to his back smirking. That was it, the last time Bakura would take his blood.

He sat up fluently, yawned and stretched, then jumped up right effortlessly. Without a trace of the pain that was etched in the lines of his very being a moment ago. Now he walked with a controlled vitality to rival his Yami's, like a cat's step, certain and silent. The window was open and the curtains blowing inward in the night breeze. He lent against the sill, looking up at the rising full moon over the other rooftops. This had all been so easy for him.

His Yami had over estimated Ryou's greatest attribute, his ability to adapt. He was in pain, so his thresh hold for pain grew, he wasn't strong enough, and so he gained muscle. All it had taken was these last few months to adapt to this abuse. All it had taken was for Ryou to act the part that Bakura wanted to see. It hadn't even been really hard, Ryou knew what Bakura expected to see, and wanted to hear. Both of which were easy enough, get hit like a rag doll and apologize for the world being round pretty much summed it up.

He smiled and looked up at the moon. Planning, Calculating, knowing. Bakura would have a sugar high in about twenty minuets, he would then phone Malik up and he would come over and they would shoot pigeons, melt things, drink weird combinations of various forms of alcohol, skim milk, lemon peel, and grape juice, fight, watch TV, and generally create havoc for Ryou to clean up after Bakura had kicked Malik out, and once the sugar crash hit him and he went to bed.

It had only taken a few months to know this stupid underestimating Yami inside out. Ryou prided himself on his powers of observation, remembrance and empathy. Smirking once more to the moon, he started preparing his room.


"God damnit," Bakura muttered his last curse at Malik as he slammed the door on the Egyptians retreating form. He yawned, wide open, like a kitten would, and then started towards his room (currently he was sleeping in Ryou's fathers king sized mountain of comforters and duvets, but that's not really important) With his mind only one the fact that Malik had said something about Ryou being an innocent, and therefore dangerous. Bakura was suddenly stopped in the hallway by a sound that gave him a urge to throttle something.

Ryou, that pathetic little kid, was crying.

Bakura could hear it plainly from the hall. Oh, the brat was dead.

With a snarl, he wrenched open the door and stalked up to the figure curled on the bed, crying pitifully.

"Ryou you-" Bakura stopped short suddenly as the most surprising thing in 5000 years of life occurred.

Ryou's hand darted out and snatched the front of Bakura's shirt with an ease that the older had never seen. Then, with all his surprising strength, Ryou hauled Bakura over him, throwing him down onto the bed and pouncing on top of him in an instant.

"Bakura.." Hissed Ryou dangerously, playfully, his nose almost touching the spirits, the young one's tone causing tomb robber struggling beneath him to freeze, "you made a big mistake when you beat me enough for me to get accustomed to it. Now we'll see how you fair."

These innocent eyes were glinting slits of savage enjoyment as the sultry syllables tumbling from those abused lips made Bakura feel weak.

"Ryou," Bakura finally found his tongue and remembered how to use it, "get the fuck off me Hikari."

Ryou smiled, settling more comfortably over his captured yami, "not right now Bakura not yet, it's not about what you want tonight."

Those words froze the blood in Bakura's veins, he couldn't talk his hikari off him, and squirm and struggle as he would, Ryou wasn't moving. The spirit blinked, feeling uncertainty for the first time in 5 millennia. Then his little Hikari did something that Bakura's mind could hardly take.

He kissed him.


Well that was fun. *Smirk* Hope you enjoyed and will keep reading, this is the first fic I've posted, so be nice. *Grins up brightly at readers* Review? The next chappie will be coming out right soon, I'm editing it now.