Title: You Belong To Me
Summary: Ryou's hiding something from Bakura. Not that Bakura cares. Because he doesn't. No, really. The fact that Ryou may have a girlfriend has no relevance to him whatso – okay, maybe he cares a little. One-shot. R/B
Pairings: RxB, MxM, YYxY
Warnings: Swearing. It's Bakura. And a little bit of naughtiness, though not explicit.
A/N: I guess this could be considered to be a fulfillment of numerous people dropping hints about the lack of tendershipping stories on the site. I'm not sure it's any good, but I did give it my best shot. This little one-shot hit me while I was in the shower. I have no idea where it came from and I wrote it in about an hour, but I do like how it turned out. If you read, do give me some criticism, yeah? I'm still not confident with Bakura's character and I have this feeling he may be OOC. We'll see.
It's nearly eight in the evening and Ryou isn't home yet.
Not that Bakura cares.
He's sitting on the couch, watching television and drinking a beer. If someone particularly brave were to ask him what, exactly, he's watching, they wouldn't get an answer. Not just because Bakura's pissed (he is) or because he doesn't want to admit it (he won't), but because he hasn't been paying the least bit attention to the screen. In fact, if one were to look particularly closely, you would see that Bakura is actually staring at the cute little clock that adorns the top of the TV stand. It's made in the shape of the Change of Heart card, with the clock where the heart would normally go. It was a gift from the shrimp and the pharaoh, and Bakura still maintains that it was bought more to annoy him than to make Ryou happy.
Outside the residence, a car door slams. Bakura's head snaps up and he quickly snatches the full can of beer off of the table and pops the top. It's usually no difficult feat for him to guzzle half a can in thirty seconds, but that's when he notices what's playing on the screen. My Little Pony. (Fuck.) If he gets caught watching that, it won't matter that it was his hikari who walked in on it. Somehow, some way, the pharaoh and Mariku will find out about it. They're annoying like that. He commences a frantic search for the remote control, but realizes that he was so distracted earlier that he can't remember where he put it.
(It's not because he has been watching that damned clock since six.)
At the very last second, just as the door is opening, he dives over the coffee table and slams a fist into the bottom of the television, turning it off and causing it to rock dangerously on the stand. Ryou yelps behind him as he drops the beer and grabs the set before it can fall. His beer (the last one) lands on the ground and falls over, sending a flood of golden liquid across the carpet. Both Ryou and Bakura watch it progress across the floor and beneath the couch in silence.
"Bakura, what were you doing?" Ryou asks finally. There's no annoyance in his voice, just a faint exasperation. He's used to situations like this. Living with Bakura gives you new appreciation for the unexpected.
"None of your business," Bakura snaps, shoving the (stupid) television back onto the stand. He kicks the can (fuck, it's empty) and looks at Ryou, surprised and curious that the boy hasn't freaked out yet. Normally Ryou is a bit of a compulsive neat freak, especially when it comes to spilled things. But the boy doesn't seem to be paying attention. He's fingering one of the bags in his hands, and there's a suspiciously soft look on his face. Bakura's never seen that look before and he doesn't like it. "Where have you been?"
"What?" Ryou blinks, looking taken aback by the question. "Yami, you weren't... worried, were you?"
The amount of awe in Ryou's voice instantly makes him uncomfortable. He settles for glaring, though it's not his deadliest glare (he doesn't want to make the boy too upset, after all). "Of course not. I'm hungry, that's all."
Ryou's mouth twitches. "Of course. Well, I'll just put my bags upstairs, clean up the spill, and make some dinner. How do you feel about pasta?"
"Whatever." Bakura's eyes dart to the bags. "What did you buy?"
(That is not hope in his voice, damn it, you're imagining things!)
Having already headed for the staircase, Ryou pauses briefly on the first step. He smiles that soft smile again and says, "Nothing."
Bakura stares at the stairs.
Is Ryou hiding something?
"Of course he is, baka," Mariku says, leaning back and stretching his arms above his head. It's the next day, and the yamis have been dragged to the park by their respective hikaris. They're always left alone with strict warnings about killing each other, setting fires, or maiming. Ryou calls it "bonding time" and says that it's good for Bakura's development. Right. All he knows is that he usually gets a twelve-pack of expensive beer and his choice for dinner after he goes and behaves.
(The fact that Ryou was wearing a top that showed off a few inches of his slender belly when he made his puppy eyes has nothing to do with it.)
"What do you mean, of course he is?" Bakura hisses, not liking the way the conversation is going. He didn't plan to bring this up, especially to Mariku and the pharaoh. It's not like he hates Yami anymore (though he can be majorly annoying and a huge kiss ass) or Mariku (he's just crazy) but Bakura's not into the whole touchy feely sharing crap that Ryou loves. But Yami, in an effort to be a kiss ass, has asked him what was wrong, and it just spilled out. Bakura makes a mental note to find a better filter for the space between his brain and mouth. Clearly his has deteriorated over time. Probably from repeated exposure to the Shadow Realm. Damn pharaoh.
"Malik has secrets. Or he likes to think he does." Mariku shrugs like this is no big deal. "It's cute when he tries to hide things from me. All I have to do is pin him down and run my tongue up his - "
"Stop!" Yami says hurriedly, holding up a hand. For once, he and Bakura are in complete agreement. If Mariku gets onto the topic of Malik-and-sex, or just Malik, or just sex, he won't shut up for hours. And it usually involves way more details than either of them ever wanted to know. Ever. "Bakura, have you thought about just asking him what was in the bags?"
"I tried." Bakura scowls (he's not pouting). "I even tried looking in them when I thought he wasn't around."
"He caught you?" Yami looks incredulous.
Bakura frowns. "I did not say that."
(Even though that's exactly what happened.)
"If he really doesn't want you to know, then maybe you'll just have to let it go," Yami says at last, shrugging. "Everyone is entitled to privacy, even your hikari."
That's what Yami thinks. Ryou is his hikari and that means Bakura should know everything that goes on with him. Just because. He says, "I think he has a girlfriend."
"Oh my Ra..." Yami says slowly, enlightenment dawning in his crimson eyes. "You're jealous."
"What? I am not!"
"That's ridiculous, Pharaoh." Just for the hell of it, he throws a knife in Yami's direction. Yami dodges it absently and exchanges a smirk with Mariku, who is suddenly much more interested in the conversation.
"You're in love with Ryou," Mariku says, taking it a step further. He loves the way Bakura's face turns bright red. "How cute. I always figured he would get you sooner or later. What is it? The innocence or his fuck-me eyes?"
"MARIKU!" Bakura roars.
Mariku just laughs and jumps to his feet. "Malik, I'm bored!" he calls out.
(Translation: Malik, I want sex.)
Malik proves to be well trained, because he leaves the little huddle of hikaris at a run. He knows that a bored Mariku means that someone, somewhere, will soon be in tears. Mariku looks at him as he strolls over and something changes in Malik's face. Bakura swears under his breath, cursing the day that all of them received their mind links back. Surprisingly, though, Malik doesn't tease him. He just grabs Mariku's arms and tugs him away with a sexy little smile and a seductive sway of his hips. All thoughts of Bakura and Ryou forgotten, Mariku practically trips over his own two feet in his haste to follow.
"There's nothing wrong with being in love," Yami says once they're gone. He still looks faintly amused.
"Fuck off, Pharaoh."
(Because he's afraid the pharaoh might be right.)
"Yami. Are you ready to go?" Yuugi walks over to them and smiles at Bakura. It's an innocent smile with an edge of knowing. Bakura shoots the pharaoh an 'I will kill you' look and Yami quickly gets to his feet.
"Yes, Aibou. Let's go. And Bakura..." Yami looks at him. Hesitates. Then just shakes his head and walks away.
(Fucking Pharaohs and their fucking hikaris.)
"Ryou. Let's go!"
It's that girl from Ryou's school. He doesn't know what her name is (doesn't care) but she's been hanging around Ryou since he first joined the school, and it seems like Ryou might have started responding to her advances. She has long hair tied back in a yellow ribbon. Bakura has beautiful dreams where he takes that ribbon and slides it around her neck. It gives him immense pleasure to picture the life slowly fading from her eyes as his grip tightens.
She's there one day when he comes home. The two of them are sitting on the couch with a book open in front of them. They jump apart when Bakura swings in, and the girl hurriedly hides something in her bag. Bakura looks between the two of them suspiciously. Ryou is faintly blushing but the girl looks unperturbed. If anything, her smile is even more disturbing than before. He notices that she has her hand on Ryou's knee (he'll rip it off when he puts that ribbon to good use).
"Hi, Bakura. Where have you been?" Ryou asks.
"Out," he says shortly (out trying to procure a shotgun).
"I left you some dinner in the stove if you're hungry. I can heat it up if you want."
The microwave and Bakura do not get along.
(It's a long story.)
"I'm not hungry."
"Alright. Close the door behind you, will you?"
He turns to leave and hears the girl giggle as he slams the door. With a stealth that only a thief can have, he pauses just outside and listens hard to what's going on inside. His jaw tightens when he hears unintelligible words and more laughter. Ryou says something about "making out" and Bakura has to resist the urge to burst through the door and kill her on the spot. She says something about a bra and panties, and he decides it's time to leave before he does something that will make Ryou cry. Again.
(Because if Bakura had a weakness, that would be it.)
(Hey, he did say IF.)
His bedroom suffers the brunt of his frustration as he slams things around and breaks a lot of crap. When he tried to make Ryou be more of a man, he never really imagined this part of it. The thought of his hikari dating someone else fills him with fury. It makes him want to run downstairs and kill that girl. Makes him want to torch the school so that Ryou can never meet anyone else ever again. Doesn't Ryou know that he belongs to Bakura? That he is Bakura's just like Bakura is his?
Holy fucking Ra.
He has never belonged to anyone. Ever.
The Pharaoh just might have had a point.
(He needs to get drunk.)
Thankfully Ryou has enough sense to not question why Bakura comes stumbling downstairs and throws himself at the refrigerator. He just politely packs up the girl's things and ushers her out of the house when Bakura starts eyeing her with a familiar glint in his eyes.
A week goes by and Ryou continues staying out late every night. Bakura stops going home to an empty house and stays out until all hours of the morning, until he's sure that Ryou will be home. One night, he comes in the front door and notices a girl sitting on the couch. His body immediately tenses, not from fear or protectiveness, but out of sheer rage. It's one in the morning and there's a girl in the house and that means his hikari has been...
Bakura approaches the couch and snaps a lamp on. His jaw drops.
He's wearing a girl's silken blue dress that clings to his chest and flares out at the waist, giving ample space to hide certain things. Long stockings that make Bakura's mouth go dry outline equally long legs that end in shiny, black heeled shoes. White hair has been gathered back with a small, pale blue ribbon that matches the dress, and on his face – yes, Bakura can detect it, the faintest trace of lipstick, blush, and even a little bit of kohl.
(His brain just died.)
(But that's okay. His other head is thinking for him now.)
His hands wind around Bakura's arms and jerk the hikari to his feet. Before the still half asleep Ryou can speak, Bakura kisses him. It's harsh and demanding, and not at all sweet, but Ryou doesn't seem to mind. His brown eyes widen and then a delicious moan slides out from between strawberry-tinted lips. Bakura growls in response (if Ryou wants to communicate in sounds alone, that's fine by him) and kisses him again, pushing him backwards until Ryou's legs hit the couch and he sinks back down, this time, with Bakura on top of him.
It's fast. Bakura has never been one to take his time, not when it's about claiming and possession and making sure that Ryou knows who he belongs to. His hand finds its way underneath Ryou's dress and into the silk panties, and his little hikari gasps and clutches at Bakura's shoulder, rocking his hips forward unconsciously to get more delicious friction. He watches the dazed look on Ryou's face with satisfaction, a feral smile glittering across his face as he skillfully manipulates the skin beneath his fingers.
Ryou moans again and presses something into Bakura's hand. He raises an eyebrow at the small tube but doesn't bother to ask, not when there's a faint blush across Ryou's cheekbone that is begging to be kissed. Bakura does just that as he slicks three of his fingers up. His hikari arches and gasps, whimpers, squirms at the intrusion, but Bakura is relentless. His other hand works at distraction until Ryou is thrashing, his mouth open in wordless pants and pleading blazes in his beautiful brown eyes.
(He can be merciful.)
So good. For the first time ever, Bakura thinks that he knows what it's like to have found paradise. He and Ryou always fit together, but now they're ohsogood in a whole different way. Bracing himself against the back of the couch, he begins a steady pace that is just short of punishing. Ryou doesn't seem to mind judging by the way that he lifts his hips and mewls encouragement. It becomes a choked cry pretty quickly, and Bakura leans forward, swallowing it greedily because Ryou's cries belong to him alone.
Afterwards, when Ryou is panting beneath him and Bakura is sprawled on top of him, he allows himself to reach out and brush a strand of hair from Ryou's face. Normally, he wouldn't do something so sappy, but it's almost worth it to see the shining smile cross Ryou's face.
(He's not whipped.)
"Ryou, why were you wearing a dress?"
Another blush spreads across Ryou's face. Bakura stares, fascinated, as Ryou says, "It was a bet. Malik made a bet with Mariku that you would never notice me that way."
(Those two are officially dead when he can move again.)
"Whose idea was the dress?"
A small pink tongue appears and slides slowly across full lips. Ryou smiles, just a hint this side of saucy. "It was mine."
(He always knew his hikari was smart.)
"How did you know?"
One slender shoulder rose and fell in a shrug. Then Ryou's smile turns into a smirk. "You know, when Miho-san was helping me to pick out this dress, we got some... other stuff." His hand twines around a strand of hair coyly. "Want to see?"
(There's no need to answer that.)
Bakura answers anyway by picking his hikari up and carrying him upstairs to their room.
That was my first time ever writing something... ahem, naughty in terms of slash. Please review!