WARNING! This chapter is one of the ones rated M for sexual situations and strong language. SNSFW/S (semi not safe for work/school.) YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. NO ANGRY REVIEWS. Just skip this chapter or something as soon as the next one is published.


A/N: Muse's "The 2nd Law" comes out October 2nd (it's supposed to... '^_^) but you can currently stream the whole thing free on iTunes. I'm not advertising, I'm just suggesting a way not to merely write like a mere mortal, but write FURIOUSLY. LIKE A BOSS. In ULTRA CAPS LOCK MODE. SCREAMING THINGS. Whoa.


"Bes."

"Bes."

"BES."

Bakura, suddenly remembering his alias, responded to me with a halfhearted "What."

"What are you staring at?! We have to hurry to- I mean, we have to hurry to visit the priests."

"Mhm."

Annoyed by this new spacey version of my mentor, I followed his gaze, and groaned.

Bakura's eyes were on a girl- well, a woman really. She was obviously wealthy, with that olive-toned but considerably paler skin that meant she could afford to spend time indoors and not working. (The tomb robbers had taught me a lot about analyzing people based on clothes, skin and hair.) Long, lean legs and perfectly sculpted hips led up to a slim torso, a very developed chest, and an exotic, gorgeous face.

"You're waiting here."

His voice was dangerous, dismissing me and threatening me at the same time, and he shoved me backward harshly, ignoring my several noises of indignation.

With a feeling of nausea growing in the pit of my stomach, I watched my teacher walk over and whisper something in the lady's ear, his lips very close to- no, they were actually touching her skin. Her eyes went wide, as he lightly placed experienced hands on her waist from behind, and in about another minute, she was swooning in his arms, her mouth moving in pleasured shapes. His hair was down now, falling in shaggy waves along his face, his tunic riding suggestively low on his body, and she was looking at his well-muscled abdomen and chest in what seemed disbelief. As he picked her up with ease, she mumbled something, and his lips split into a smirk.

They disappeared into a nearby alley between two tall, expensive-looking buildings. With intent to express my rage, regardless of his later reaction (I mean, come on, we had just escaped death and he was thinking of flirting?) I walked closer, and the noises caught my attention. Gasps and pants and shrieks and vehement exclamations; a low chuckle or two. Based on their high pitch, none of the sounds except the laughter had come from Bakura. As my natural curiosity (curse it! But oh, if it were to disappear!) began to increase, I edged nearer and nearer.

Bakura's lower covering, the only thing that had been on him anyway, was on the ground, as was most of the woman's expensive clothing. I could see their faint silhouettes, her on her knees, almost bowing to him, but doing something else. She was making a lot of sounds again. His hand was raking mercilessly through her hair as she moved her head back and forth in a rhythm, and his neck was arched, his eyes half-shut and his expression smug and royal. I heard a low moan from her, and then his laughter once more as he tugged her back up, moving his lower body against hers. Roughly, he shoved her against the alley wall and yanked her forward so he could bite and suck on her throat.

I backed away in horror. I didn't understand what was going on. What was he doing, what were they doing? I had heard of sex before, in hushed tones through my older sister, but I had been told it was an act of love between two married people to create a child. If this was sex, I was horrified at the lack of care or concern Bakura showed, the way he growled what seemed like orders into her ear and the way she followed them eagerly. Without warning, she screamed ear-shatteringly and collapsed against him, as Bakura smirked and whitish fluid covered the ground beneath him. His laugh rang out for the fourth time, the triumphant sound strangely causing me to feel an odd ache down in my stomach. I shivered and looked away, quickly running back to where he had made me stand originally, confused and irritated and bright red.

No more than a few seconds later, the man himself casually emerged, dressed again. His gaze was cocky and dominant, the gladiator with nothing to lose and everything to gain, the satisfied crocodile who has just swallowed his prey whole. His hair was barely out of place. I glared in disgust.

"What's wrong with you?"

"What do you think?" I crossed my arms over my chest, surprising myself with my boldness.

"A man has needs," was his flippant, bored answer. He didn't even seem out of breath.

"You're not a virgin..." A question hovered at the edge of my voice.

His uproarious howls broke an octave, and he actually got tears in his eyes.

"What do you think?" He imitated my tone, giggling a little still.

"Um?"

"The King of Thieves a virgin? The hell, girl!"

"Er..."

"I lost my virginity at thirteen, honey."

"...Oh."

"And you?" A teasing sneer played on his face.

"Um, never, obviously."

"Thought so."

"How do you know these things?"

"I can tell."

"How?"

"I just can."

"That's not an answer."

"It is now."

"Where'd that lady go?"

"Dunno."

His cryptic answers were getting me nowhere.

"Bak- Bes!"

"Ra damn, what? Your head must be exploding, honey."

"What's up with you and calling me honey now? And where are we going?!" Without my notice, he had begun walking and I had instinctively followed him.

"Home."

"Why did we stop in town?"

"I already told you."

"No, you didn't."

"A man has needs," he reminded me.

"What the hell, Bakura? What's wrong with you?!"

I suddenly realized my mistake.

Not saying anything, he picked me up with one hand and carried me by the neck to the entrance of town.

"Gah-" I was choking, spluttering. He shoved me onto the back of my horse and got onto his, and we rode to the hideout. His fury was thick in the air, and I was scared to death to speak at all. I had expected to be yelled at, but didn't expect this absolute ire just for revealing his name. No one had heard it anyway!


Once we were outside of the wooden structure, I thought the long ride had quelled his strong emotions at least a little, but as he flung me off my mount, my cold chill of horror and the look in his eyes told me otherwise.

He erupted.

"What are you, jealous? Are you wishing you could be that little whore going down on me? Do you want me? What the fuck are you up to? What do you think you're doing, watching us, you little pervert?" His volume had climbed to a terrifying scream, and I buried myself in the sand, not getting up from where I'd landed.

"What's wrong with you," he mocked. "You're the one who should be asking yourself that! You asked me that?! BEG ME FOR FORGIVENESS! BEG ME ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES!

"Bakura!" I finally sobbed. "I'm sorry! I don't know what's upset you s-"

His hands knotted in my hair and pulled hard, nearly pulling my scalp off, or it felt like it, anyway. My eyes watered more and I looked up at him.

"FUCK OFF."

With that, he tossed me to the ground for- what, the fifth time now?- and stormed inside, his fingernails catching my cheek and scraping hard on the way.

He slammed the door behind him.


MMOORE SUSPENSE.