Disclaimer: cries no matter how much I offer for them, I still don't own any characters in this story.


Chapter 1: Inclinations or Malik's Guide to Seduction

Ryou. Ryou, Ryou, Ryou. No matter how many times Malik said that name to himself, it would always sound better every time. There was something deliciously enticing about a boy so innocent and naïve, and Malik wanted him. In the lilac-eyed one's opinion, Bakura, Ryou's yami, was simply not good enough for the boy.

It wasn't that Malik was in need of attention, or wanted someone to care for him. No, he was long past the stage of pining for a lover, and now only wanted Ryou so he could manipulate that innocence, tease it round his fingers and enjoy watching the boy fall deeper and deeper into his control.

First, however, the prey must be captured, and it was much easier to do that while Bakura was not watching, or, if there was no way that the tanned teen could shake the yami off, then he would have to make sure that the spirit could not intervene. Through careful observation, Malik noticed, the best times to do this were when Ryou was walking home from school, as Bakura usually waited in the house for him.

Malik planned first to teach Ryou some things; things that he was sure Bakura could not ever do to the boy. That would render the quiet one well and truly helpless under his control. His first lesson came in the very clothes he was wearing: revealing, kinky, with an underlying tone of hidden danger.

Yes. Malik was wearing his black leather slut pants.

They were the very same ones that he had worn on Kaiba's blimp, though perhaps slung a little lower, along with the very same too-small-by-half lilac hooded top. The outfit was suitable, and yet not too pushy. It wouldn't do to scare poor, innocent Ryou away before they had even started.

The blonde padded silently in circles in the narrow alley, every now and again glancing at the gates of the school, wondering when his prey would venture out. It was long past the end of the school day, he thought irately as he absentmindedly kicked a can. Where the hell was the pale-haired teenager?

And then, as if on cue, Ryou strolled out of the school, walking quite quickly, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. Malik allowed himself a sneer as his eyes followed his prey's progress, Ryou drawing closer... and closer... so close...

With one lightening action, Malik's hand shot out and grabbed Ryou's wrist, dragging the pale-haired one in to the alley. Before Ryou could even manage a "huh?" of confusion, Malik's hand was clamped firmly over his mouth.

Malik waited a few seconds to let Ryou's eyes stop rolling wildly in their sockets before removing his hand and, using only his strong arms, with no push up from the ground, hoisted himself up on to the dumpster that resided in the alleyway. As his back was arched against the large plastic obstacle, his pants slipped lower down his navel, exposing his lean, tanned stomach a little more.

He could hear Ryou gasp slightly without even turning to look at the other boy. Inwardly, he smiled – this had been made so much easier by the fact that Ryou had not fled when released, as the Egyptian had expected him to, but rather seemed to be rooted to the spot.

"Why have you not left, Ryou?" He asked idly, leaning back on his elbows and watching the paler teen, his stomach tantalizingly naked, with a promise of more lying beneath the loosely slung black belt with its heavy silver buckles which lay around the tight leather of his trousers.

"I – How do you know my name?" The British boy responded, backing away one fearful step.

"I know a lot about you, Ryou." Malik purred. So far, everything was going to plan. "I know about Bakura, for instance. I know that he's not good enough for you. I know that you deserve more."

"What do you mean?" Ryou asked quietly, freezing to stand perfectly still, his round, wide brown eyes staring at the Egyptian boy. He couldn't say why, but the sight of this stranger in his revealing clothes with his svelte body and intense, lilac eyes was making him feel quite hot on his neck.

"I like you, Ryou." Malik let himself slide down from the dumpster, landing almost noiselessly on the tarmac of the alley. "I like you a lot."

"Um... thanks." The white-haired teenager smiled nervously, taking one small pace backwards as Malik advanced softly, his back bumping against the opposite wall. He swallowed and watched the platinum blonde. "Um... I have to go. I have promised my friend I'd meet him and I'm already running late."

"Why not stay here with me, then?" Malik purred, bearing down on Ryou. In a smirk-like grin, the Egyptian showed a tiny flash of his white teeth. "If you're already late, surely he won't mind you being a little later?"

"Um... I don't think... I really have to go!" Ryou straightened up away from Malik, who was slightly shorter than he was. The other teen's head was uncomfortably close to his and yet... and yet... there was some feeling inside him, a feeling very deep inside that told him he wanted to be closer.

"If I can't change your mind..." Again the unnerving smirk from the flaxen haired boy, one of his bronze-coloured hands moving up to teasingly cup Ryou's chin. "At least let me give you something to part with."

Ryou's eyes, if it was possible, only widened more, as, with a tiny inhalation on his behalf, he felt Malik's lips brush against his own.

"Delicious..." Malik breathed in what might almost be called a sneer, pulling himself away from Ryou to view the snowy haired one's reactions. The British boy was frozen in place, blinking quite rapidly and trembling at the knees.

"Wh-whuh?" Ryou managed at last, incoherently, but Malik had already dissolved into the shadows.


Ryou staggered out of the alley and continued the walk home in a state of perpetual confusion. Who was the tanned, strangely beautiful boy who had just kissed him? Why did a feeling deep inside him tell him that he knew who the boy was? What did he want, and what did he mean by "I like you"...? Ryou had a fleeting suspicion and the results he arrived at caused a pink tinge to appear on his pale cheeks in a flush – surely he wasn't that desirable?

And there was one other confusing thing – just what had the stranger meant when he said Bakura wasn't good enough? Ryou knew that he and Bakura were just yami and hikari – was this new person suggesting that Bakura wasn't good enough as a yami?

"I'm back!" He called out as he opened the door to his home, dumping his bag in the corridor and listening for the footsteps of his other.

"About time!" A rather impatient voice snapped as Bakura appeared at the top of the stairs. Ryou was unfazed by the apparent churlishness of the other teenager, knowing that it was Bakura's way of disguising his feelings. "Where have you been?"

"Oh..." the British boy tried to shrug nonchalantly. "I was held up on the way home by some guy."

"Did he hurt you?" Bakura was by Ryou's side in an instant, his eyes flashing dangerously. Ryou smiled.

"No, he just talked at me." The teenager shuddered inwardly, remembering the brushing kiss and feeling it would be wisest to not mention it to Bakura. He wasn't sure, but it seemed that something inside him was telling him he wanted... more?

"What about?" The tomb-robber's voice was a growl next to Ryou's ear.

"I dunno, I didn't really listen." Ryou smiled and turned his head round to Bakura. "Now leave off, will you? I have homework to do!"

"You're so boring!" Bakura rolled his eyes and looked skywards in despair, but thankfully left the chuckling Ryou, prowling back upstairs to continue whatever he had been doing when the other teen arrived back home. The strange and ever-so-slightly haunting boy from earlier was pasted in front of his eyes, mostly when he blinked, the sneers and laughter, though ringing tauntingly through his ears, seemed to be calling to him.

He wanted more. He had to go back.


Malik hadn't originally meant to wait for Ryou again, feeling that the white-haired teenager wouldn't risk walking the same way home again for a while, but there was something inside that compelled him to just give it a try and, maybe, hope against hope, he would again come strolling down that alley.

Once again, it was long past the end of the school day. The platinum-blonde had kept a keen eye on the school gates, and, not seeing Ryou appear, had given up and was now laying back at ease on the dumpster, the cool breeze chilling his bare stomach.

Then, as though from a dream, came soft footsteps. Malik almost fell off the trash receptacle in surprise. Hardly anyone came down this way; it was quite sleazy and derelict, even for an alleyway. Could that possibly be Ryou, back for more?

The Egyptian steadied himself as the white-haired boy himself strolled into the alley, completely at ease, though his eyes glancing this way and that, warily. Little did Malik know that Ryou had become obsessed with seeing him again, and had thought of little else all day, appearing so vague and unfocused that even his school friends had commented.

"Why did you come back, Ryou?" Malik asked sensuously, materialising next to the British boy's side. "Why didn't you stay away?"

"I wanted to see you again..." Ryou murmured, not intending Malik to hear. Malik's hearing was keener than Ryou anticipated, however, and he heard every syllable, loud and clear.

"Why?" He breathed, one hand creeping up to toy with the snowy hair in front of him, causing the owner to shiver. "How can you know I'm not dangerous? You don't know anything about me..."

"You're not dangerous." Ryou said, with such sincere conviction that Malik raised an eyebrow before hearing the other teen's continued reasoning. "If you were dangerous you would have raped me or hurt me yesterday. You were only gentle yesterday."

Malik was stunned at the sheer amount of trust that Ryou was putting in him by uttering those words. If he were evil – if he truly were evil, then he would take Ryou now, while the boy had no defence. However, much against his instincts, he knew he was beginning to slowly fall in love with the open honesty that was Ryou.

"So..." The white-haired wonder began. "Are you going to tell me why you're doing this? Why you sit here waiting for me? Or do I have to guess?"

"Well, since you insist that I tell you..." Malik smirked against Ryou's neck, drawing another shiver out of the teenager. "I want you."

"Well, why don't you just ask me?" Ryou swallowed, hardly believing what he was saying, daring himself to venture further in to the lion's mouth. He had come so far, there was no turning back now... and if this stranger turned out to want to hurt him... "Instead of playing this stupid cat and mouse game, you could have just asked me."

"All right then, Ryou." Malik growled against Ryou's ear, his hands snaking around the other boy's waist to pull him closer. "Will you be mine?"

"I already am..." Ryou groaned as Malik's hot breath rushed across his ear. "I already am..."

"Then I'm going to keep you forever." The platinum-blond teenager hissed and a whimper was torn from Ryou's throat. From that instant, from that one small sound, Malik momentarily lost all control of any bodily action below the waist and ground his hips in to Ryou, who gasped and flinched slightly, impulsively jerking away from Malik's embrace.

The Egyptian let go of Ryou so as not to feel to imposing, and was just about to apologise for his rash actions when a white-haired blur hit him heavily in the chest and he fell to the floor, sobbing for breath, winded.

"Bakura!" The platinum blonde heard Ryou gasp, and, through tear-blurred vision, he saw not one, but two nearly identical white-haired teenagers standing in front of him.

"I followed you home, Ryou." Bakura snarled at his hikari. "I wanted to make sure that this – this scum didn't hold you up again. You were lucky, weren't you?"

"Go away, Bakura. We don't want you here." Malik wheezed, wincing slightly as he rose to his feet, clutching his ribs. The tomb robber was standing protectively in front of Ryou, who was peering round the other teenager curiously.

"I go where I please, Malik." Bakura snapped. Ryou's eyes widened in shock.

"M-Malik?" He asked, stuttering a little. "The Malik? You're Malik?"

"Why do you act so surprised?" Malik asked, eyeing Bakura down warily. He had hoped that it wouldn't come down to himself against Bakura, for one reason, he wasn't quite sure who would win.

"I – I don't know..." Ryou blinked. "I just didn't expect that the Malik would ever want me..."

"You admitted it?" Bakura asked, his voice a deadly whisper. "You admitted to my Ryou that you wanted him? You admitted that you wanted to taint his perfection?"

"Yes." Malik spat. "In fact – I'm willing to fight you for him!"

Bakura stared into Malik's eyes coolly.

"I have a better idea, Ishtar." He said at last. "I'll duel you for him. New rules, and 4000 life points. Each player must wager something other than Ryou, something of high value. That'll test whether you really want him or you just want to fuck him!"

Malik digested the thief king's blunt statement.

"Oh, yes?" He replied idly. "And what are you going to wager?"

"My Millennium Ring." Bakura sneered. "You?"

Malik thought for a moment, weighing up the possibilities, Ryou's anxious face peering round Bakura's thin but quite muscular body.

"I'll bet my life."

"Excellent." Bakura smirked. "If you win, you get Ryou and my Millennium Ring, in essence, my soul. But if you lose, you lose your life. It's time to duel."