"You bastard!" escaped Yami's lips as Bakura 'accidentally' tripped and splashed his Malibu on him. Stupid fucking tomb robber! The thought that Bakura existed purely to annoy him ran through the odd-haired Pharaoh's mind, and he glared at the other yami while flicking sweet-tasting alcoholic droplets from his clothes. And just how had Bakura actually managed to get a job in the first place? When his previous work experience was 'tomb robber in ancient Egypt'? It was mind-boggling, even to a strategist like Yami.
The idea that he was the scapegoat of existence coursed vaguely through the Pharaoh's mind. He seemed to be punished for everything. Like why was it on his shoulders that the fate of the world rode? And why the hell had he been locked in the Sennen Puzzle when Bakura and Marik, super-villains that they were, were trapped in cool things? Marik's Sennen Rod had a little knife to stab people with, and Bakura's Ring had tassels for poking. What could he do with the Puzzle, bludgeon people to death?
Deciding that ordering another Malibu probably wasn't the best idea, the long-dead Pharaoh set in an order for a Tequila Sunrise, which, surprisingly enough, didn't end up thrown all over his gothic outfit. Wondering if Bakura was ill, or perhaps in too good (or too drunk) a mood to victimise him like usual, Yami sipped his cocktail slowly, glancing round to see if he could spot Yuugi.
The smaller teen himself was finding, that while Marik was an excellent bodyguard, he was a bit of a setback in the process of meeting and talking to new people; the Egyptian yami was incredibly possessive. The last three times Yuugi had been approached by girls – whether they were flirtatious and scantily-clad or not – Marik had leapt out of the shadows behind the offending teen and loosely wrapped a hand around their throat, pricking at one cheek with a flick-knife. Most got the idea after that, though there was one suicidal girl who had struggled and tried to go to Yuugi and protect him from 'this blonde shit-coloured freak!'. She, of course, was now in a comatose state. Marik may be deranged, but he had a couple of morals (like 'don't kill everyone you meet, leave some for torturing later) and he hated racism.
"Look, Marik…" Yuugi sighed, as his tall stalker materialised eerily by his side. "Can you not attack everyone who comes within fifty feet of me? I would appreciate it. I know that we're technically, you know, together and all, but… please?" The hikari was unaware of his heroic yami's crimson eyes finding him, and Yami sighed. Marik was near Yuugi? That was bad. He would take Yuugi's remains home to his grandfather later and say that he died gloriously and surrounded by enemies, and all that ancient Egyptian crap about what makes you popular and deserving of a decent burial. Sugoroku might not appreciate that, and Yami had a hard time envisioning Yuugi dying fighting a thousand enemies, but that was what imagination was for. Unfortunately, Yami had never approved of imagination; in the hands of someone like Marik, it was downright dangerous.
Leaving the thoughts of mummification and vaguely wondering where he would find someone willing to pull Yuugi's brain out of his nose in preparation for embalming, Yami looked over to see Malik and Ryou – the two had obvious both ingested cheesy romance novels before coming. They hadn't kissed yet. Yami wasn't sure if they'd even moved – both were still holding hands over the table, though they'd stopped talking and were now just staring into each other's eyes. Perhaps they were each trying to make the other spontaneously combust? Or, judging by the position of their arms, maybe they were just having an arm wrestling match? Yami gave off trying to analyse them, as they were making his brain ache. And also Bakura had spotted him.
"Why are you staring at my hikari, Pharaoh?" He asked peevishly. Bakura had a rule that no one eyed Ryou up unless they had permission from him first. Which meant, in theory, Malik would be dying later – but the Egyptian hadn't actually done anything wrong, as he hadn't yet examined the other hikari's body, just stared romantically (soppily, in the opinion of the tomb robber) into each other's eyes. He damn well couldn't kill Malik for that… well, maybe after a drink or six. At any rate, he could always apologise to Ryou and make it up to him by buying an inflatable doll, if only so he could steal it back later and use it himself. The tomb robber had always wanted one of those. Just don't ask.
Talking of blow up dolls… Bakura's eyes drifted over to Otogi – just why the hell was Mokuba riding him anyway? Surely that was paedophilia? With a shifty look this way and that, idly knocking back three consecutive vodka shots along the way, Bakura sidled from behind the bar to listen in on the two black-haired ones' conversation. Past the grunting that Mokuba was giving as Otogi bounced him up and down in a way that was either innocent like a little toddler bouncy or just really rather twisted.
"You should really let me down now, before Onii-chan comes and throws a moody and kills people…" Mokuba was saying. Wise child.
"No." Otogi answered. "You know him. He'll be stringing Jou up by his ankles over a pit of fire ants by now. You know Jou went to complain about that dog picture in his room. Kaiba always wins arguments – Jou's just too… canine to think up responses."
Leaving the two to their friendly bitching, Bakura went back behind the bar, pulling out a small jar of pills and taking at least six with a swig of straight vodka before leaving the bottlett (a kind of small bottle) on the bar near where Yami was sitting, conveniently close so the Pharaoh could read the label: 'Anti-cliché pills. For the stereotypical supervillain and/or hero. One to two pills every clichéd moment. Do not mix with alcohol. Warning, if you are pregnant, menstruating, epileptic, suffering from hypo-glycaemia or abnormal growths, consult a doctor before taking this product'.
Great. So Bakura had not only just overdosed, he had also just mixed these potent drugs with alcohol. Yami still had to check whether he was hypo-glycaemic.
The results of Severely Overdosing Tomb Robber came over a few minutes later, crying on Yami's shoulder. These Anti-Cliché pills really did work well… That thought ran through Atem's mind as he absently patted his mortal enemy in the fluffy white hair.
"It's not fair…" Bakura sobbed brokenly. "Everyone hates me just 'cause I'm evil, no one hates Marik, I'm much better than Marik but everyone still hates me, and I can never win… being evil sucks…"
A twitch in Yami's eye revealed how scarily effective these pills actually were.
"Will you be my friend?" Bakura asked, blinking and sniffling. Yami grit his teeth and somehow managed to force the answer out.
"Yes, I'll be your friend."
"Yay!" Bakura smiled happily and kissed an ever-more disturbed Pharaoh on the cheek. "I love my bestest friend!" And, through the gathering clouds of doom in Yami's mind at wondering how long these pills lasted and what Bakura would be like when the effects wore off, there was some sunshine: Bakura seemed to adore him at the moment. And, damn, Bakura was hot.
"Shall we… find somewhere more private?" The sly question was asked, and Bakura was apparently himself enough to nod, which brought a sigh of relief from Atem – the pills weren't critically strong. Of course, stereotypical supervillains with great bodies are always sex-obsessed. Ask Marik. Yami smiled and led Bakura away from the party, silently asking himself whether the tomb robber was too out of it to be able to 'get it up', though that was a chance he would have to take.
We now interrupt this soon-to-be-sex-scene to bring you important news from Kaiba's quarters.
"Down, boy." The CEO rapped out, actually half expecting Jonouchi to listen to him and sit like a good little doggy. No such luck. Ah well, Kaiba had long ago resigned himself to the fact that none of the Yuugi-tachi would listen to him, no matter how philosophical what he had to say was.
He narrowly dodged a picture of a blonde teen in a doggy suit that was thrown with the force of an Olympic Hammer Thrower at his head, the thrower being the irate blonde teen portrayed within the photograph: Jonouchi.
"How many times must I tell you, wise-ass, I'm not a fucking dog!" Yuugi's best friend snapped, basically growling in his irateness. Kaiba found himself a little disappointed – that one was so easily retorted to. Surely Jou could do better?
"Of course you aren't a fucking dog, puppy." He rolled his azure eyes mockingly. "You're being a good boy and not lusting after poodles indoors. You can fuck other dogs when I let you out for the night."
"Bastard!" Was snarled at the businessteen, the rougher highschooler twitching from many places in his cheek. Kaiba bit back a snicker – Jou baiting was just so much fun.
He was mildly surprised, therefore, when Mokuba and Otogi burst into his room, each going to their respective favourite and asking if he/she/it was ok. Kaiba nodded and told Mokuba to bugger off while he killed the nice doggy, to which Mokuba responded that he would rather like to watch Seto try, thank you very much. Seto demanded to know which side Mokuba was on, and Mokuba gave but an airy grin and informed the room that he worked alone and was known to many as 'El Mokubo'.
Then Otogi apologised to Kaiba for allowing Mokuba access to the bar while Bakura was having corrective therapy in Yami's room and began trying to egg Jonouchi on to greater sparring heights, which involved prodding at his weaknesses until the blond was pissed off enough to eat Kaiba. Mmmm, workaholic, the other other white meat.
"Raaaarrrrggggggggh!" Jonouchi gave a scream very much like Tarzan's battlecry and threw a wildly complaining Otogi at Kaiba. Mokuba managed to scoot out of the way just in time, and was gathered up in the arms of the dice-player once he had recovered from Mr Head meeting Mr Wall and pulled out of the room.
The tension in the room was so thick you could call it Anzu.
A tirade of verbal insults followed from Jonouchi, with Kaiba just brushing them away as through they were dust speckles dirtying his beautiful blimp. Then it was Kaiba's turn, and he just pulled out a digitally enhanced picture of Jou with a tail, in a nice dog collar. Which made the blonde even more annoyed as he tried to grab it, the taller one holding it tauntingly out of his reach. That's what you get for going up against a genius. Especially if you're blonde.
If you read this story expecting Jou/Kaiba, it's a kind of hate-hate relationship. You just know that they'll eventually shag, probably in a few lifetimes or so, if you believe in reincarnation. Mind, heaven is different for everyone… perhaps Kaiba wants Jou to be his dog…
Meanwhile, in the Yami/Bakura room, Yami was very happy. Very very happy. Bakura had indeed risen to the occasion, and sex with the tomb robber was very pleasurable. Of course, Yami knew that Yuugi had been sent uncontrolled feelings of pleasure and passion through the mind link and was now cuddling a rather shocked Marik to try and chase away the trauma. Oh well, he might have to explain about the birds and the bees when they got home the next night. He couldn't tonight, of course – tonight he was sleeping with Bakura, having decided to make the most of the tomb robber's anti-cliché phase.
Malik and Ryou had finally moved, going back to Malik's room to talk and cuddle and do other romantic, non-sex-crazed acts of love to each other. Like innocent kisses and playful tickling. Malik had persuaded Marik to stay with Yuugi for the night so that he and Ryou could sleep together. As thin as each was, it was no problem for them both to fit in the single bed side by side, whereas Yami was basically lying on top of Bakura so he wouldn't fall out.
Jou had grumpily retired to his own room, where he had proceeded to smash just about anything that could be broken out of spite, as revenge for the dog insults from Kaiba, and the rest of the Yuugi-tachi were happily going to sleep alone in their own rooms, quite a feat for Anzu the Slag in the minds of many.
Marik didn't need to ask Yuugi's opinion on anything – the vertically challenged teen came with the advantage that you could just pick him up and take him wherever you wanted if he disagreed to your decision, so Marik had picked him up, taken him back to his and the Pharaoh's room and shagged his little body senseless. Now Yuugi was sleeping peacefully, and the psychotic genocide fan had to admit that it was kinda cute how innocent the teen looked when he slept.
Happy couples, happy couples. The blimp disco had now just about ended, and most couples and singles were retiring to their room, though a small group stayed in the disco hall for a gangbang, which were becoming increasingly popular in the third grade, the grade above the Yuugi-tachi. Happy couples, happy days.