DEF: Damn I haven't updated this in a while, oh well. This chapter started off so very differently, I have no idea how it got to this point but whatever, my stories nearly always take a darker turn than I intended, so now, please say hello to my interpretation of Kleptoshipping! YugixYami Bakura whose name is Akefia for this fic in name only, he's still the sadistic Yami we all know and love just with a different name.

Summer: Blah, blah, blah, we don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!


"Ah!"

He smirked slowly, pressing the flat of the blade against that beautifully pale skin, using just the tips of his fingers to trace long forgotten patterns across the planes of the other's chest in searingly cold blood. Blood as cold as primordial winters past, a cold as the desert winds at night and a red so deep it was black, but then, it was only a reflection of this twisted creature's soul, it stood out so wonderfully well against that deathly white breast. He brought his scarlet stained fingers to his mouth and sucked, relishing in the sharp silvered bite of this mortal child's blood.

The figure underneath him writhed slightly, normally innocent indigo orbs sharper, darker, closer to dusk, closer to the blood that flowed from the multiple cuts about his torso. Sardonyx met shadowed amethysts, both could see the lust swimming, and not beneath the surface as it so usually was, no. They'd both made up their minds and decided they'd wasted too many years denying what they wanted, who they wanted, all because of what one thought was right and the other perceived as insanity.

A familiar anger surged through him and he tightened his grip on the warm handle of the blade, curses and screams fighting to claw their way out of his throat and slap themselves against the flushed cheeks of the bound form. These were the time he had to stop and think, to calm himself and remember that he loved the other rather than hated. After all, centuries of hatred and longing wouldn't, couldn't be resolved by a handful of years spent in lust and ecstasy. Even if this wasn't the one he hated, the one whom he had tried for millennia to destroy, they both wore the same face, each detail replicated until one was merely a copy of the other.

And that, that is why they were even in this position. Why he is able to sit there with his blade so close to the throat of the enemy, close enough to kill, and not drive it into the bastard's neck, because they had both been unfairly used by the same man. One thought of as nothing more than a filthy peasant, worse a thief, the other had only ever been a vessel for a far greater soul. They both bore the same hatred for a dead man, and if they could neither find peace on their own, fucking each other senseless couldn't hurt them anymore than they already were.

"Mmph!"

He panted slightly as he bucked up into the hard body above him, crushing their aching needs together and chasing away the darkness that encroached, that threatened to return. Shadows and darkness, hatred and vengeance, all had driven the immortal above him, they were worn proudly, used to chase away any and all, but not him. He was the only one able to fight just as hard, scream just as loud and hurt just as much. He was the only one who knew what it was to be nothing more than a rung in the ladder of a far better being, a God, nothing but an easily replaced plaything really.

However, he was also the one that could see beyond the bitterness and spite, beyond the malice and resentment to see the lust and pure sensuality that underlay the hate filled words. He was the only one who could tell the difference, the difference between insult and endearment, and sometimes he regretted it.

Sometimes he wished he could go back to when all the words, all the scathing remarks and biting insults only went skin deep, enough to hurt but never to wound, never far enough that they stuck in his heart and echoed in his mind. Maybe that was why though, perhaps that was the reason he allowed himself to be tied up like this and fucked. Allowed himself to be cut into a bloodied mess time and again, nothing more than another body filled with carnal pleasure, moaning aloud as the too sharp teeth of a monster sank into his skin.

Maybe because it was less painful than knowing which words were true and which were false, who had lied, who was right and who had never meant any of it. Or maybe he was just grateful for an excuse to touch.

Any excuse he could live with to touch and kiss and caress and possess, so long, so long of being left out in the dark had taken its toll on him. Even if he was meant to be the light, even if they had started as predetermined enemies, at least he had been acknowledged, him! Him, not some long dead God who had only needed a mortal vessel to be resurrected one last time, who needed a body to defeat his last great foe before leaving for the After Life.

Really, there was so much truth to the saying 'The line between Love and Hate is finer than a spider's silken web,' that is to say, the line had never existed.

"Please!"

More blood spilling across that beautiful, lovely, wonderfully gorgeous body, each strange symbol spelling out a long forgotten name, his name. The name he had given up a long, long, long time ago when his hatred was only a fraction of what it had grown to be, when he held the title of a King, a King among peasants fighting against a God among men. He had given up everything, every Gods damned thing to avenge his people and still it hadn't been enough.

He'd sold his soul to a demon, to the devil, to a God, just for the merest chance of victory, he trusted so much to chance, so much to twisted, perverted faith, and what did he get? Less than a year of disappointment when the Gods once again intervened on this bastard's behalf. What?! Did his people mean absolutely nothing to them? Had they not prayed and offered in their name as well?

Apparently not if they had been slaughtered so easily, so heartlessly, every man, woman and child but for one, and for what?! To protect against the very thing he had called down upon them? They had set in motion the wheels of their own demise.

He grunted angrily, more animal than man at this point, as he pounded into the warm body below him, he didn't care for his partner's comfort, he was far passed that, to besides, what sort of victory would it be if he didn't cause his enemy some measure of pain. Granted his 'enemy' would start to enjoy it after a while, it was still something, no, not just something, it was the only thing he had left. This was his last resort, the last option left for a soul that would never find peace, that would never be allowed into the land of the dead, would never be allowed to rest with his family.

"Akefia!"

Filthy little whore, that was what he was, that was all he'd ever been. He'd been taught for so long that the only thing he would ever be good for was bending over the nearest object and letting himself be fucked until he could barely stand then fucked until he was too tired to stay awake any longer. He was a bitch and a slut and a weak, spineless human being, he might stand up for himself on occasion but it never meant anything, it was always eclipsed by something else, someone else's accomplishments. He was always forgotten, never seen until he served some purpose.

He was happy to do this though, to get cut up and fucked, to be fucked so hard he couldn't help the tears that sprang to his eyes when he tried to move the next morning. He was glad, ecstatic, overjoyed that for once, someone wanted him for who he was, if only he was something to stick their dick into, to sate a lust. They wanted him and not the Pharaoh, they wanted him, not the King of Games, they wanted Yugi Mouto, and even if he was sure that boy had died sometime long ago, he still wore the face and was more than happy to please them.

He smiled then, smiled as the white haired monster smeared his blood into the sheets, as they pounded into his sore and abused ass at an inhuman pace. He smiled a too wide, face splitting, joker-esque smile, one devoid of emotion and feeling, one that showed through to the ravaged soul he possessed. He didn't give a fuck that the white demon above him saw it, didn't care and would never care because it was the one thing they could share, the heartbreak and pain were different but the brokenness of their souls, that they had in common. One had soul his to a dark God in hopes of avenging the dead, another had his forcefully torn in two to accommodate a long dead man.

They were both shades, they were both just dead things walking around with a human skin. They were fucked and they were damned, so why not enjoy what little pleasure they could before the Gods caught up to them? Why not? Why fucking not!

"FUCK!"

That smile, that smile again, always that smile. It always stretched across pale cheeks as the boy beneath him came and came hard. That utterly psychotic smile, what he wouldn't give to have a camera, anything to capture that smile, to have proof he could show off. Anything of that sort would work because then he would be able to wave it in the world's face, show them that this, this was what they'd turned an innocent boy into. This was the person they held on a pedestal, the one they'd dubbed as their 'Savior'.

He wanted to shove it in the boy's so called 'friends' faces and make them see just what they claimed as their comrade, the monster they'd help craft and nurture. He wanted to flaunt it to the Gods, that this was what they'd created in order to aid their precious Son, this was what they had destroyed for the greater good. However, more than anything, he wanted to hold the child closer, wanted to laugh and never stop because here, this was what he'd lusted after.

This broken, fucked up thing was what he'd always wanted by his side, not the other child, Marik, not the crazed alter-ego, Mariku, not Zorc or even the death of the Pharaoh. All he'd ever really hungered for was something as tainted, twisted and perverted as himself, funny how the Gods he hated so had supplied him with it. But then, their world was fucked up and they were just a pair of sinners aching for something in kind to take the sting of reality away.


DEF: The ending was meh but really, I had no idea how to end this because writer's block. Sue me.

Summer: I'm sure this chapter was satisfactory, leave a review please?