Hi, it's Mel-Girl. So I want to admit something. I am not a fan of writing smut, nor am I one for writing PWPs. Yet this fic is a PWP. Go figure. So uh, Marik's seme, Bakura's a thief, Marik's a thief and life is ace. Also last night, I went to a restaurant where they had an alcoholic drink called a 'Blowjob'. Thai restaurants are hilarious like that. Good job. So yeah, this is why I don't write smut. Enjoy?
Also I'll update 'Bloody Brilliant' soon, I swear. I'm much better off writing with an actual plot.
He snaked his hand to firmly grasp her bottom, which was firm and toned. And his other hand kneaded her breast roughly, earning a moan from the brunette. She'd had too much to drink and his lips were working wonders on her neck, leaving delicious bruises as he did so. To onlookers, it was total lust on the dance floor and Anzu Mazaki was just another victim to the great Bakura Touzoku's charms. Or rather, his actions.
Ryuuji Otogi rolled his emerald green eyes at the pair as he sipped his drink. "You know, that's my girl he's trying to sex up on the dance floor," he commented sourly. And his companion at his side only laughed at him. Otogi could say all he wanted, but his voyeuristic eyes only urged them on.
His companion mentally noted the bulge forming in Otogi's pants but said no more. He blinked a few times at Bakura Touzoku and Anzu Mazaki, trying to work out the situation. With brilliant amethyst eyes, he observed the love scene in front of him. He waited for the predatory claws that would tear her clothes apart, then bend her over and eat her out while she writhed and moaned. That was what he expected to happen next, anyway. But he observed more carefully and saw the way Bakura's hand slipped into her pockets and slipped out again. Bakura finally ran the flat of his tongue along the last bruise on her neck before whispering something to her and pulling away. She stared at him, a drunken stare, but he didn't linger for her.
Marik Ishtar watched as Bakura Touzoku left the club, while Otogi went over to Anzu. He stared down at the hand which had slid itself into Anzu's pocket before.
"He stole her wallet," he commented aloud. And then he smirked to himself. "What a bastard."
The next time Bakura Touzoku came to the club, it was Mai Kujaku he hooked up with. Marik stared and stared, again he was trying to envision Bakura as an animalistic lover, forcing his prey onto all fours as his manhood claimed her. But again, he'd leave with the wallet before it got to that. This time, Marik bothered to question Otogi about this. And Otogi said it was Bakura's thing to come in, hook up with somebody, take their wallet and leave. Marik frowned. Why were people calling him the great Bakura if that was all he ever did?
Still, he couldn't help but notice Bakura. And the more he watched him, the more he wanted to punish him for such a pathetic way of going about life. Days passed and after watching Bakura do his usual routine to an unsuspecting Katsuya Jounouchi, Miho Nosaka and so on, Marik realised something.
It didn't matter who succumbed to his ways. Bakura Touzoku just wanted to claim every regular to this club.
After he made such a realisation, Marik began to look at Bakura with pools of lust. He wanted to screw up his routine in every way possible.
So that's exactly what he set out to do.
"I hear you're the great Bakura Touzoku, the great thief of this district," Marik began, such easy nothings pouring from his lips like honey. "The man so undeniably sexy that not one can resist the charm he oozes?"
Bakura smirked. It was habit of his that Marik observed many a times. "You could say that," he responded, swirling the vodka about in his glass. "What can I do for you?"
Marik returned the expression, leaning against the counter. "Oh, nothing. Would you like a Blowjob?" The white haired man's eyes widened with excitement at this sudden offer. He looked the other up and down. The man was slightly taller than him but it didn't matter to him. Those golden locks, that brilliant tan and those amethyst orbs, those amazing amethyst orbs... He simply couldn't refuse an offer from such a beautiful man. "It's a drink they serve here, you know." Bakura's disappointment was quick and obvious.
The Egyptian chuckled and turned to the bartender. "This man here would like a Blowjob," he said in what Bakura swore was a condescending tone. He pulled out a few dollar notes and tossed them at the bartender, who rolled his eyes. "Keep the change."
"So what do you want, really? You're buying me a drink," Bakura frowned slightly. He wasn't used to others buying him a drink. The way he worked, it was him spending little on the drinks so that he could steal the big bucks later. He wasn't quite sure at what this man was doing, but he considered letting him do what he wanted. After all, he felt certain he could still steal something anyway.
"Nothing at all!" Marik replied with a devious grin. The bartender handed Bakura his creatively named drink. He eyeballed him as he gulped it all rather quickly. "I've seen you around. I want to get to know you. Is that wrong?"
Bakura shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care."
Marik ordered him a second drink.
It was a mash of teeth and tongues as Bakura had Marik pressed up against a wall, his thumbs hitched in the elastic of the Egyptian's pants. The heat was getting to the both of them, but only Bakura was feeling light in the head. As for Marik, this was exactly what he wanted.
"Do you want me, Bakura?" he asked, before capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. His teeth latched onto his bottom lip and nibbled roughly. "Do you want to claim me?"
Bakura drew away from him with swollen lips, staring at Marik with a lustful gaze. "I want to catch everyone in the world... I want to steal their hearts and tear them apart... I want to claim them all and never be caught..." he panted, raising a hand to shift golden bangs away from purple eyes, hoping to see that same desire that he felt.
Marik leaned forward again, bringing his teeth to his earlobe and rolling his hips against him. "Is that what you want?"
"Yeeeeeeeees," Bakura replied, irritation in his voice. It wasn't fair. He wanted to just make his mark, take the wallet and be done with it. But this stranger wasn't letting him. He wanted the stranger to return the lustful attraction he was feeling. The great Bakura Touzoku couldn't stand this. It was the way Marik was doing all the asking, as if he was the one in control. The one pitching while he was receiving. The alcohol was getting to his head.
"Let's get you another Blowjob then," Marik responded with a cheeky grin, taking him by the wrist and leading him back to the bar counter.
He should've just fucked him right then and there while he still had the mind to.
He plunged his tongue into his mouth, tasting the alcohol within him. Bakura threw his arms around his neck, sucking on the muscle that was easily dominating him. Marik helped them out of the club and then forced him against a rough concrete wall outside, his lips following the others as they refused to break for air. But soon the lack of air proved to be too much as they pulled away in unison, a string of saliva connecting their tongues, glistening beneath the moon.
"Yerrr name..?" Bakura enquired, but it almost didn't matter to him whether he got an answer or not.
"No," Marik replied with a smirk. He shifted his perfect swollen lips to the bare skin of Bakura's neck, trailing kisses until he found his pulse. Blood trickled from Bakura's lip as he bit on it to fight back the urge to moan. Then he cursed aloud when Marik sunk his teeth into his neck, drawing out blood the way a vampire would. So predatorily. So hungrily. Marik lapped up the blood with a chuckle, taking in great amusement at Bakura's behaviour.
Both men liked to dominate, it was true. Bakura felt his pride decrease and his sexual frustration increase. Normally Bakura would fight back, but the alcohol Marik kept ordering him. What was that drink called? A Blowjob? It seemed to be some type of shooter. Oh gods, he wanted one of those right now. His hands pressed down hard on Marik's shoulders, which only caused the Egyptian to laugh at him. Ugh, he was devious, disappointing him yet making him want more.
"We're in public," Marik pointed out, even though he'd already made up his mind.
"Dun caaaaare," Bakura slurred. And he needn't say more. Marik's hands were quick to tear at his shirt, popping a few of the buttons in the process. His fingers worked their way down, undoing the rest of the buttons and Bakura yanked it off, baring his pale torso. Marik smirked. He expected more from him, really. The way Bakura was so egotistical and sure of himself combined with his skinny figure was something Marik found strangely endearing. He acted like such a big man and yet right now he was little more than a drunken slut. And he adored that.
Marik bent down slightly, further exploring Bakura's pale skin with a wet tongue and sharp teeth. He dragged his tongue further down and then latched his teeth onto one of Bakura's nipples. His teeth tugged on the erect nub before swirling his tongue around it. Bakura entangled his fingers in Marik's hair, groaning in pleasure. He seemed to be trying to say something, but it was incomprehensible. Marik didn't particularly care. He reached a hand and slid it into Bakura's pants and then into his boxers, tightening his hand around his cock. He stroked it slowly, up and down, up and down, causing Bakura to squirm and groan some more.
"Want this taken care of, dear Bakura?" he asked, almost mockingly. It took every bit of Bakura's willpower not to cry out and snap at him to hurry up. Instead, he shook his head, pretending he wasn't enjoying this domination. But by the gods, he was, he was, he was. But Marik could see past the action of shaking his head. He raised his hand, lifting it out from the boxers and out of his pants and held it up to Bakura. "See this?"
"No," Bakura lied, though it was obvious. He scowled as Marik wiped his hand on his chest. Precum. "Bastard."
"You see what's on your chest now?" Marik received another 'no' in response, but he knew very well that the real answer was yes. He leaned forward and breathed huskily into his ear, "I want mine inside you. I want to fill you up with my seed. I want to claim you and never be caught. Understand?"
"Oh gods..." Bakura understood. Actually no, he didn't understand. He was out of his bloody mind. But he let Marik grab his shoulders and turn him right around, further pressing him up against the wall. Bakura shifted his own hands to press against the wall. He didn't fancy grazing his face against the rough concrete.
Marik muttered sweet nothings under his breath as he traced tan fingers lightly above Bakura's spinal cord. Bakura recognised the words to be Arabic, but understood little more than that. He drew in a sharp breath as Marik whipped his hands around to undo his belt. Bakura refused to show any signs of accepting Marik's urge to take him. Who was he kidding? The throbbing from within his agonizingly tight jeans said otherwise. All he wanted was this man to just set him free, make him scream at his liberty.
To him, this man was a complete stranger. By the gods he was horny. Horny and aggravated. Did he have anything to drink, he wondered once more. It didn't matter. With a slur, he sneered at the man, "I don understan' yerrrrrr language..." He may have had something to drink.
Marik chuckled. "You're so very eloquent, aren't you?" Sarcasm was thick in his voice.
"I dun say ya can speak English yeeeeeet..." Bakura groaned, frustration searing through his brain and right through to his currently neglected erection. No wait, just his brain. He definitely wasn't aroused. Oh god, he couldn't even comprehend his situation. The great Bakura Touzoku was never one to be taken advantage of. Not like this. No. He was wrong. Exactly like this. "...Yerrr name?" The Egyptian responded in Arabic, teasing him. "Fuck you, fagbiiiiitch."
"Fagbitch? Interesting," the man replied with a snort, sliding his jeans down. "My name, I cannot give you it. I don't want you to try and catch me."
Bakura sighed loudly. "And that's why ya shaddap and stick it to me..." He'd definitely had too much to drink.
Yet he wanted to catch his name. He was certain his sober self would want to as well.
Next, Marik yanked the boxers down, leaving both the boxers and Bakura's jeans lying at his feet. The white-haired man adjusted his feet positioning; he didn't fancy tripping over his own clothes either. Then he let out a gasp as he felt a finger sliding in between his butt cheeks. Marik trailed kisses down his back, telling him to relax. Bakura growled at him in response, but switched to a moan as Marik added a second finger, scissoring and stretching. He could feel the smirk in Marik's voice as he repeated to Bakura that he should relax.
He hated this. He felt like he was going to explode. It was becoming all too much for him. Never was he the one being entered. But Marik's voice sounded slightly irritable as he commented on how tight he was, adding a third finger and stretching him as much as possible. Bakura groaned, feeling like he could burst at any second. Then he felt Marik's hand firmly grip his cock as he hovered above him, pumping him slowly.
"You're not to release until I say so," Marik told him, as he adjusted himself.
"I dun like bein' told whatta — ohhh fuuuuuck," Bakura swore loudly as the other entered him. He felt his butt clench tight around Marik's manhood and the pain seeping through his body. Marik pumped him faster, dragging his nails along the skin as he eased almost all the way out. Then he thrust back inside, earning a cry of pleasure from Bakura.
Maybe he liked this domination. He enjoyed the nail-digging grip Marik had on his hips and even moreso on his arousal. But he was certain it was his drunken self thinking all this. Still, he pushed back into Marik, encouraging him to thrust deeper, find the spot. Marik was keen to oblige. He shifted so that both hands were gripping his hips as he rammed him hard, grunting in pain also. Still, he wouldn't stop. Bakura just kept on moaning and Marik couldn't bear it. He wanted to hear his name escape Bakura's lips, but he had to restrain himself. But he wanted to hear a name so badly.
"Call me Namu," Marik eventually told him. It was a name he'd often used as a fake alias.
"Namu... Namu..." Bakura tried to think if he'd heard that name before. He was drunk, there was no such memory to recall from. "Oh gods, faster, Namu..!" Marik made no hesitation in picking up the pace. He smirked when he realised he'd found the spot, for Bakura moaned that much louder.
Marik threw back his head, taking in the sight of the moon and the stars above. What a beautiful night sky, he noted as he found himself moaning Bakura's name. It seemed almost perfect to him, if they were true lovers making sweet passion. But no, it wasn't like that. Sure, it was close to perfection, but Marik knew his motives well.
Bakura made his living by hooking up with people and taking their wallets afterward. He acted like he was so amazing for doing so. Marik felt there should be more to him than just that. He wanted to humiliate him. That's why the location was so perfect. The gods could look down upon them and see the sinners. The people in the streets could hear their sexual escapades. And Bakura was the one who was getting claimed. It was like revenge for all those Bakura had claimed before, Marik felt. And he could have the pride of being the first to claim the great Bakura Touzoku for himself.
"I've caught you, Bakura..." he spoke in between thrusts. "I'm claiming you right now. You're mine. Do I have your heart?" Then he let out a groan, feeling himself climax inside of him, filling Bakura up and truly claiming him. Bakura cried out his name, the sensation unbearable yet oh so glorious.
"It's yours..! Just... fuckin'... let me..!" His patience had worn thin.
"You may release now," Marik told him, the egotistical tone in his voice all too obvious. He took great delight as Bakura released, covering the walls in front of him with his seed. Then his eyes widened. This is what this stranger could do to him. Only this one stranger. He slowly felt his senses return as Marik eased out of him. But before he could comment further, Marik forced his back against the wall and ravaged his lips once more with his own. He threw his arms around him, tugging at his shirt and returning his sloppy kisses enthusiastically. What was breathing exactly? His lungs ran out of air and 'Namu' had his heart now.
When Marik pulled away, Bakura managed to ask him a question. "Bastard... Are you a regular at the club that..." he flushed red, "that you fucked me outside of..?"
"Not anymore," Marik grinned. "You won't see me again."
"No," Bakura growled. "Ya can't just... fuck me and then leave. Nobody fucks me."
Marik shifted to cup Bakura's butt cheeks, pulling them apart slightly. "I can. Only I can. Don't you try and catch me."
"No, no, no," Bakura shook his head with a frown. "I will. And I'll get you back, Namu."
"Don't you try and catch me," the Egyptian repeated with a cocky smirk. "Don't think you're the only one living on the edge of the law."
And with that, Marik pulled away to do up his pants. Then he started to head away. Bakura would've followed him, but his legs grew weak and all he could do was slide down the wall to the ground. He winced. This man didn't go easy on him at all. That bastard. Then he swore loudly when Marik turned back to him with a cheeky grin.
For what Marik was holding up was his wallet.
Then he disappeared.
"Namu? No, no! That's Marik Ishtar," Ryuuji Otogi corrected him after Bakura quizzed him the following night. "Why do you want to know about him?"
He made a face. "He has my wallet."
"And he fucked you hard, right?" Otogi eyed him up and down; noting the way Bakura had walked in uncomfortably and refused to sit down. "That's quite the role reversal, isn't it?"
Bakura glowered at him. "It won't happen again." Whether he saw Marik again or not, he didn't care. He was the first, but he would be the last. Bakura wasn't going to be toyed with ever again. Never would someone get to him like that again. It was a stab at his pride! No one else could prance into his life suddenly, order him drinks and then fuck him against a wall. It pissed him off. It pissed him off so much and yet he knew he loved it. "I'll catch that Marik Ishtar. I swear I will."
"...So he definitely fucked you, right? Not the other way around."
"Shut the fuck up, Otogi..!" Bakura snarled at him, even though it was blatantly true. And other regulars at the club had been giving him strange looks since it happened. Hell, Jounouchi detailed all the things he'd heard that night. "So what if he did?"
The bartender simply snickered at him. "That's what you get for having so many Blowjobs."
Bahaha, too many fics have Marik as uke. You go show the fangirls you can top, you little wolf. B) By the way, that was the first actual smutfic I've written so uh... Yay or nay? I'd like to know, haha.