It's A Shotacon


Summary: Shotacon: a story depicting a younger boy in a romantic relationship with an older partner; a shotacon is often associated with the genre 'yaoi'. Yami slowly turned his head and looked curiously at his aibou. Yuugi quirked an eyebrow. "… What?" YYxY.



Yuugi Mutou x Yami no Yuugi pairing (Puzzleshipping)


Lemon (AKA: This is R18+, so all under-aged readers out there: I highly advise that you press the back button right now and view something a tad more appropriate.)

And, as the title says, it's a splendid, delicious shotacon.


It all started with this thing called 'manga'.

"Here you go, buddy!" A rectangular book was slammed on his school desk, startling him and almost toppling him over by the sheer volume of the slam.

Carefully, Yami planted all four feet of his chair back onto the floor and quirked an eyebrow at his blonde companion. He looked at the book on his desk and then up into the teenager's shining brown eyes. "What is this?"

"It's one of my all-time favourite manga: Hellsing," Jounouchi declared proudly, puffing out his chest. There was a touch of colour in his cheeks, which Yami assumed was due to his excitement. "I'm lending you volume one to read over the weekend."

Ah, Yami thought. Manga. It was only yesterday that the topic of these Japanese comic books came up (strangely after a conversation about sea monsters and giant chickens), and Jounouchi was absolutely appalled when Yami confessed that he'd never read 'manga' before. Yuugi wasn't interested in them and so he hadn't been either. It was a decent enough explanation—Yuugi had been his host, after all, and hence it was inevitable that Yami also adopted his habits, of which manga-reading was not one of them.

But after hearing the news—that Yami hadn't even tried to read one before—Jounouchi had looked at him with an expression of such disgust that it made Yami uneasy. The blonde had looked at him as if he'd just confessed that he killed ten babies and then roasted them over a fire to eat for dinner. If he hadn't been the recipient of that look, he would've found it amusing. He knew Yuugi did.

So Jounouchi, as a fervent manga-reader, took it upon himself to "rape Yami's virgin mind" and drag him into the world of the otaku—which brings us to the present.

Yami idly flipped through the pages of the manga volume with a thumb. "My… thanks, I suppose," he mumbled, not very intrigued by the caricatures he saw inside.

Jounouchi slammed both of his hands on the desk (a mimic of his earlier actions, no doubt) and leaned forward, glaring at Yami straight in his dark violet eyes. "Hellsing is one of the best manga I've ever read! Don't let the art fool you! The main character—Alucard—is one kickass vampire, and truthfully Yami, I'm sure he'll whoop your ass in a fight any day!"

The former Pharaoh would've liked to point out that he himself wasn't fictional whereas this 'Alucard' was, and hence it would be very easy to win a fight against a non-existent opponent, but he was distracted when a certain aibou of his began to look at them curiously. Yuugi sat across from him, so all he had to do was lean over. (And how could Yami not be distracted by him? How could his thoughts not come to an abrupt halt and the words that had been on his tongue not disappear in a dreamy haze? His aibou was so petite, so adorable, with eyes that shone like amethysts and lips that were so delectably kissable and—and Yuugi was saying something. Focus!) "What's this about a fight?" he inquired with a small frown.

Jounouchi waved a hand dismissively. "Not a real fight, Yuugi. I was just telling Yami here about Alucard in Hellsing!" he grinned. "Think about it: he'd give Yami a run for his money!"

Realisation dawned on Yuugi's face and he said, "Oh." Then he quirked a smile and chucked sheepishly. "You know I have no idea what you're talking about, Jounouchi-kun."

Their friend blinked before he threw his hands up in exasperation. "I don't know why I'm friends with you," he declared indignantly. "Come on, Yuugi. Maybe if you give it a try you'll find out that you actually like it—maybe you can read it together with Yami over the weekend."

But Yuugi was already leaning back into his seat and he hummed softly. "I'm not interested in manga, Jounouchi-kun."

"Why not?" Yami asked curiously.

Yuugi shrugged shyly and opened his mouth to say something, but the door to their classroom slid open and their homeroom teacher walked in. Jounouchi immediately scrambled to his seat while the rest of the class stood up to greet their teacher properly. Yami quickly hid Jounouchi's weekend gift in his bag, knowing that it would get confiscated if the teacher saw it, and he wondered again about what was so great about this 'manga'.


Manga, Yami realised, had to be one of the best inventions of mankind. Ever.

He'd finished the first volume of Hellsing in under an hour and he even rushed out of the Kame Game Shop to read the next volume in their local library. What surprised Yami even more was that there were whole shelves dedicated to these slim volumes of guilty satisfaction. His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when he suddenly realised that all these books—all these gorgeous stories—were Yami's ticket to other dimensions, to other worlds.

Sure, Yami also enjoyed reading books, but it wasn't the same. Books didn't have pictures accurately depicting the exact emotions of their characters; you couldn't see the constantly changing expressions in their eyes at every scene, in every panel; and, furthermore, books took forever to finish, whereas reading one volume of a manga took less than an hour. (Also, they didn't need a whole, tediously thick paragraph describing the scenery—it was just there.)

Yami, a being of efficiency and curiosity, immediately took a liking to these things called 'manga'.

He was also nothing if not dedicated, and he ploughed through every comic book he could reach until his eyes were sore from late-night usage. When he woke up in the mornings to go to school, he would mostly regret staying up all night just reading, but by Ra those books were so good. Jounouchi cried out in victory when Yami's new obsession became general knowledge to their close-knit group, but not even he could keep up with the former spirit's furious pace.

Why hadn't he read these before?


The quiet voice cut through Yami's intense reading with remarkable precision and he instantly looked up from a manga titled Skip Beat! "Yes, aibou?" he inquired politely.

Yuugi's eyes glanced over the flowery cover of the manga silently before he sighed and said, "The moment we got home, you started to read manga. Did you forget that Mizuki-sensei had given us Maths homework to hand in tomorrow?"

Yami was lying on their bed on his stomach, the book held out in front of him. The former spirit glanced at the manga once before returning his gaze to his aibou. "I haven't forgotten," he said carefully. "But I wish to finish all the books I've rented out before today, since the books are due in at the library tomorrow."

The young King of Games frowned and from his seat at his study table, he gestured wildly to the pile of books stacked neatly at the foot of the bed. "That's a lot of books you have to get through today," he quipped. The pile was definitely huge; even though the manga volumes were usually quite thin, the top of the pile was actually on par with the height of the bed. "Are you sure you'll be able to get through those in time and also get the homework done?"

Yuugi briefly wondered how Yami was supposed to carry all those books to the library tomorrow to return them anyway, but that wasn't his problem, really.

"Don't worry, aibou. I've finished most of them—there's only a couple left that I have to read." He turned his attentions back to Skip Beat! He was absolutely fascinated with the main character, a girl with a grudge so powerful that it summoned little demon sprites to do her bidding. He could relate to her—and the little grudges—just slightly. "I'll finish the homework on time. Thank you for your concern."

He felt Yuugi's eyes remain on him even as they were enveloped in silence; Yami ignored him in favour of reading how the heroine of the story was going to get out of the mess she had currently landed herself in. Absorbed in the book, he missed the sigh that escaped Yuugi's lips as he turned on his chair and started working, and he also missed the hours that seemed to swiftly pass by as he read manga volume after manga volume.

When he finished with Skip Beat!, Yami stretched and stood, walking over to his pile of rented manga. He knelt and examined the titles, searching for one he hadn't read yet, and his eyes landed on a book called His Smile is Heaven. Curiously, Yami slid the book from under the others and flopped back onto the bed in his usual position, immediately diving into the manga.

He noticed something strange about it almost instantly.

The main character was a cute, young boy—fourteen, as the narrator so helpfully quipped—and the story followed his time at a new high school. Yami was captivated by the youth's wide, shining eyes, and it reminded him all-too-well of his own partner. But what really surprised him was when the boy started to show a romantic attraction to another boy—man, actually; his teacher, to be more specific; a male teacher who was probably ten or thirteen years older than him, really.

Yami blinked. He was too focused on this new manga that he didn't even notice when Yuugi suddenly stood up and left the room. As the former spirit continued to flip through the pages, he could feel his face growing warm—getting warmer and warmer and warmer until he was squirming uncomfortably on his and Yuugi's king-sized bed.

They were—

The two males were—

What were they doing?

They were alone in a hotel. They were kissing. They were getting naked. They were on the bed. They were moaning. The teacher was smirking, the small boy was panting and calling out "sensei, sensei, sensei" and suddenly, he was trapped on the bed beneath the older man and he groaned as—

Yami calmly turned the book until he saw the cover. He finally acknowledged the "R18+" sticker that was laminated on the front, clearly labelling it as Adults Only. So how in the name of Ra did Yami manage to rent it out without getting caught?

He wasn't surprised, really—after all, when he was in the library, he simply shoved all the manga he could reach into his library bag and went through the self-checkout system. But still, for a book like this to be out in public where anyone could take it was—!

Then Yami finally read the genre of the book. It said 'Shotacon'. Shotacon? Yami had never heard of it before. He'd read shounen, senein, manhwa, josei, and even shoujou and lollicon, but shotacon? What was that?

The door to his and Yuugi's bedroom opened and Yami's inner speculations were interrupted as a bowl was shoved in his face. He sharply pulled back in surprise and realised that it was a bowl of steaming, hot food—more specifically, fried chicken and chopped radish with rice. His eyes followed the bowl, to the hand that held it, up the arm, and finally stopped to gaze at Yuugi's face. "Aibou?"

"Dinner," Yuugi said simply. There was a slight irritation in his eyes, but mostly it was amusement and concern. "Even though reading manga is fun, mou hitori no boku, you shouldn't neglect your health. Here. I managed to convince mum and grandpa that having dinner in bed wasn't so bad once in a while."

His shotacon manga was temporarily forgotten as Yami sat up and crossed his ankles. With a grateful and loving smile, Yami took the bowl and chopsticks from Yuugi's hand, his own hands brushing against his tenderly. "Thank you," he breathed, deeply touched by the gesture and only a tad bit guilty that he had caused Yuugi trouble. He noticed the other bowl in Yuugi's hand. "Is that for you?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Yuugi grinned and nodded. "Food doesn't taste half as good if you're eating alone, so I decided that I'll eat my dinner in here too." He sat on his chair and placed the bowl on his study desk. "Just don't make a mess, mou hitori no boku," he sang playfully as he snapped his chopsticks.

Yami chuckled, "Of course I won't. I sleep on this bed too, and I'd rather not have ants doing their business here while I sleep."

"Don't forget the bed bugs."

"Ah. And the notorious bed bugs too—however, considering that you haven't changed the mattress for four years, we're probably already sleeping with them already."

A shudder visibly ran through Yuugi's body and it made Yami chuckle in amusement. "Don't say that," Yuugi scowled, and with a routinely declaration of "Itaidakimasu!" he started his dinner.

Yami started his dinner too but in the silence his eyes glanced over to his forgotten manga. He balanced the bowl between his knees as he picked up the book with his free hand. His mind was instantly pulled back to the problem he had before Yuugi's kind offering of food. Shotacon. What was that?

He flipped to the back of the book and was pleasantly surprised that there was a glossary. He quickly scoured the page for the desired word until he finally came across it.

Shotacon: a story depicting a younger boy in a romantic relationship with an older partner; a shotacon is often associated with the genre 'yaoi'.

Yami slowly turned his head and looked curiously at his aibou.

Noticing his intense, unrelenting stare with the corner of his eyes, Yuugi turned his head away from his meal and lifted a delicate eyebrow. "... What?"

Yami took a silent moment to take in Yuugi once again. Small frame, childish features, big, bright, innocent eyes—by Ra, Yuugi was indeed straight out of a shotacon manga. Just look at that face and that slim waist! Those delicate hands and smooth, pale skin! Definitely, definitely, definitely, Yuugi would be a main character in a shotacon, but if that was the case, then his lover would be…

Yami narrowed his eyes and a smirk danced across his face. The main character would undoubtedly be himself.

Because even though they were in the same grade at school, Yami was definitely older than Yuugi—spiritually, mentally, and emotionally (although, physically, he technically wasn't (despite being a few inches taller) since he'd only obtained this body a year ago). Heck, by technicality, he was over three thousand years old! If he having a romantic relationship with Yuugi, who was barely seventeen and looked fourteen, didn't cut as shotacon material then Yami didn't know what did. Not to mention that they were both guys, so of course this fell right into the famous combo of a shotacon-yaoi.

"Yami?" Yuugi asked a little impatiently as the former spirit continued to daze out, lost in his own revelation.

"It's a shotacon," Yami finally answered—more like blurted—as he stared at his aibou with unreadable eyes. "Our lives are a shotacon; we've been characters in one all along."

Yuugi frowned in puzzlement. What the hell was a shotacon? "Is this some sort of manga terminology?" he asked wearily. "If so, then you'll have to explain it to me if you want me to understand, mou hitori no boku."

Yami opened his mouth to answer, to maybe even give him the book so he could see for himself, but then he shut his mouth up tightly with a snap. After a moment of silence, he grinned mischievously and his dark, violet eyes glinted in the bedroom lights. No, he had a better way to show his aibou just what exactly a 'shotacon' was. Much better way.

He forced his hungry gaze away from the youth to turn back to his meal and novel. "Never mind now, aibou," he said gently, an undertone of huskiness in his voice that Yuugi unconsciously picked up, judging by the involuntary shiver that went up his spine. He smirked at his book, carefully avoiding the younger's eyes, and said pleasantly, "I'll show you later."

He blatantly ignored the way Yuugi stared at him and then shrugged before returning to his previous tasks. No, right now, Yami had better things to do than indulge in his aibou's curiosity.

He was going to read some manga.


He and Yuugi shared the same bed. Ever since Yami had gotten his own body, he had been adopted into the Mutou family—it wasn't that much of a leap, since he looked so much like them in the first place and for the fact that he'd been in the Mutou family residence for decades prior (admittedly, in the golden Egyptian box). Plus, he and Yuugi were so used to sharing everything anyway, so what was sharing a bed compared to sharing a mind?

Of course, the mother of the household allowed this simply because she regarded Yami and Yuugi as long-lost brothers—perhaps even twins. But she was the only one to think this way. Sugoroku was under no illusions that their bond was anything but 'brotherly' and Yami rather appreciated that. He didn't see his aibou in that kind of light and he knew in his gut that Yuugi didn't see his mou hitori no boku like that either.

So there they were, in bed, curled into themselves on their designated sides. However, this night was different. This night, Yami wanted something more than just staring at his aibou's covered back.

He grinned darkly as he eased his way into Yuugi's territory, slipping his hands around the smaller boy's stomach to roll him onto his back. The night was still early and Yami knew that the boy was still awake; however, Yuugi seemed playful tonight and he kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep. Yami's smile grew wider. We'll see how long he'll last, then.

The perverted teacher slowly walked up to his student, gliding nimble, experienced hands under the uniform to stroke the lovely skin.

Yami leaned over the boy and breathed lightly against his neck. With his hand still on Yuugi's stomach, he felt the tremble that he provoked as Yuugi squirmed. A small frown touched the boy's features at Yami's closeness but he didn't move, wondering what the former spirit was trying to achieve. Yuugi had a hunch that Yami wasn't going to move away any time soon.

And how right he was.

Without warning, Yami opened his mouth and softly bit at Yuugi's exposed skin.

A gasp escaped the younger boy and he shot his eyes open, turning his head to immediately see dark eyes gazing back at him with a lusty haze. Yuugi's breath hitched in his throat. The look Yami had on his face made his stomach coil pleasantly and his fists tightened. "M-Mou hitori no boku?" he whispered, his voice all too loud in the silent, darkened room.

"Calm yourself, little one," the other soothed, but as he was saying this he pulled Yuugi to the centre of the bed and scrambled on top of him. He gazed down at Yuugi with half-lidded eyes, his hands on either side of his head while his knees were on either side of his hips. "I'm only answering your question from before," he stated, the calmness of his voice belying the slowly burning embers in his eyes.

Yuugi's heart skipped a beat as he stared up at the former spirit, all of his coherency threatened by a single glance at those darkened, hazy eyes. "M-My question?" he squeaked.

Yami grinned. "Yes. And I'm going to answer it—your question regarding what a 'shotacon' was."

Then he swooped down and smothered Yuugi with a heated, passionate kiss.

Yuugi's hands immediately shot up to try and push him away, surprise and shock clearly in his system. But as Yami nibbled on his bottom lip and roughly shoved his tongue inside, the surprise drained away with a single, muffled moan.

In moments, the man had the younger's shirt pulled off. As he teased both erect nipples with his thumbs, the student whimpered wantonly, his back pressed firmly against the wall.

Yami pulled away to trail delicate, almost feather-like kisses along Yuugi's jawline and behind his ear. In response, Yuugi gripped Yami's shoulders tighter, tingling sensations running up and down his body at the contact. The former spirit breathed into the shell of his ear, which earned a delightful shiver from the body beneath him—a shiver that made Yami's throat dry and his hands fist tightly against the mattress. He wanted to feel that sensation again. Yuugi's hands were still on his shoulders, perhaps to keep some distance between them, but Yami hardly paid them any mind. He simply slipped his own hands beneath Yuugi's blue pyjama shirt, delicate fingers tracing every groove and crevice with naughty curiosity. Then he found what he was looking for and started to massage Yuugi's nipples with firm, circular movements.

Yuugi trembled again, much to Yami's guilty pleasure, and he cried out softly. "Y-Yami," he breathed, and the warm air caressed Yami's skin tenderly, making him shiver as well. He hastened his ministrations, rubbing Yuugi's nipples with an intensity that might have hurt, but might not have hurt at all. "A-Ah! Y-Yami! D-D-Don't—!" But Yuugi's words were lost in pleasurable mewls as Yami continued to grope and tease and pinch his sensitive flesh.

Yami swept his tongue over the younger boy's throat, claiming every inch of him as his. He absorbed every sound Yuugi made like it was a drug, and like a drug, he simply wanted more. He impatiently unbuttoned Yuugi's shirt and slipped it off, claiming Yuugi's lips again when the other cried out in protest.


Their tongues battled, slick and wet with their saliva dribbling down their jaws, but neither of them cared. It was getting really warm, so different to the usual chill of the night, but Yami wanted it warmer. He changed his position so that his legs were in between Yuugi's own and he sagged into the smaller boy, pressing himself flush against him, chest to chest, hip to hip, groin to groin.

Yuugi forcefully broke away from the kiss and groaned. Yami himself silently cursed as he rested his forehead against Yuugi's neck, their sweat mingling together. He clenched his teeth and instinctively rocked forwards, brushing every part of their frontal bodies together in one, pleasurable motion that had them both moaning. Through the thin material of their pyjamas, both could feel their erections straining impatiently against their meagre confines.

He rid the boy of all his remaining clothing, leaving him completely bare, and he teasingly gripped the youth's hard member and started to stroke. "Ah! Ah!"

"Aibou," Yami whispered devotedly, nibbling Yuugi's lip tenderly. "Aibou."

Yuugi could only moan his responses, completely at the mercy of Yami's talented, probing hands and rocking body. He didn't know why Yami was acting like this—they only shared a few, chaste kisses before—but frankly, he didn't care. He was delirious with pleasure and he didn't want anything to stop.

Then he felt Yami's fingers trail tantalisingly over the top of his pyjama pants, and his breath hitched. He suddenly flung his arms around Yami's neck and pulled him into a forceful, demanding kiss. Do it, he seemed to urge, desperate and wanting as he impatiently bucked his hips up, rubbing against the older man. Do it!

The arms that held Yami up almost folded in on themselves; although they no longer had their mental connection, Yuugi's actions were clear enough and it made Yami almost keen over with the desire and pleasure that consumed him. The kiss was sloppy and his movements were bordering on frantic, but his eagerness made Yami moan in approval. Good, aibou—good.

He teased the skin of Yuugi's hip just a little while longer before he casually slipped his hand inside the younger boy's pants. He found the source of Yuugi's passions easily and he took a hold of it gently, but firmly, as he started to stroke it with his thumb.

Yuugi shut his eyes tightly and simply breathed, his whole body trembling with delirium. He felt Yami strip him of his pants with his free hand, not once stopping his ministrations on his throbbing member. Once his last piece of clothing slipped off, Yuugi wrapped his legs around Yami's waist and simply gripped the mattress, his breaths coming out in short, quick pants as he drowned himself in the sensations that Yami was inflicting on his virgin body.

Meanwhile, Yami was thoroughly enjoying the sight of a naked Yuugi beneath him, shaking and groaning as he pleasured him. He was filled with manly pride when he heard Yuugi mewl the instant he began to play with the younger man's balls; he strummed them with his fingers as he stroked his hardened shaft, which had the youth clenching his legs tighter around him. Yami lowly hissed. His own erection rubbed against Yuugi's entrance and if they weren't careful, Yami was going to lose himself entirely and finally listen to the desire to pound into the youth without any sense of care or patience.

He wanted to completely and utterly dominate this cute little shota of his.

The thought must have increased his rigorous pace because Yuugi was suddenly crying out loud, his tongue poking out so invitingly that Yami just had to bend over and kiss him roughly in a reprimand. Into his mouth, Yuugi moaned, "Ahhmm, mmmfffhmm—" Yami only kissed deeper in response, shoving his own tongue into Yuugi's mouth, and he felt hands tangle themselves tightly into his hair. As his merciless pace continued, Yuugi finally tore his lips away from Yami and released a breathless, shuddering cry as he came, his whole body shaking with his orgasm.

Yami felt the heat of Yuugi's semen shoot against his stomach and coat his hands. He brought them up to his face and licked the white substance lewdly, basking in the half-lidded, dreamy stare that his aibou was gazing up at him with. Those flushed, pink cheeks; those bruised, wet lips; those dazed, lust-filled eyes that screamed out more

Who was Yami to resist? Who was Yami to deny what was so clearly being asked of him? As Yuugi's designated protector and so much more, Yami could only oblige to his aibou's every whim.

That perverted teacher was holding him down, and the boy was enjoying it, and then they were—

While Yuugi was still in a daze, Yami stripped himself completely of his own pyjamas, groaning slightly when he felt his heated, aching, completely naked erection touch the cool air of the room. He reached over into their drawer and pulled out some lubricant (from his own drawer in the desk, at the bottom—he knew he'd be doing something like this with Yuugi someday, so he was well prepared). He slathered a good amount of lubricant on his own member before he began to apply it at Yuugi's entrance. While the younger man was still in a daze from his climax, Yami quickly slipped two fingers covered with lubricant inside of him.

It was so fucking tight that Yami wondered just how the hell he was going to shove himself inside—but as his erection throbbed, he figured that perhaps the tightness was a good thing, a very good thing indeed.

Yuugi gasped at the intrusion and he immediately started to crawl backwards away from him, but Yami's firm hold on his shoulder kept him in place against the mattress. "Y-Yami! W-What are you—?!" Then he groaned, half in pain, half in pleasure, as the fingers inside him stroked his inner walls and slowly—gently—pumped him.

"You like that, don't you, aibou?" Yami murmured, still watching with delight at every reaction Yuugi made. "You like me doing this to you."

Yami's fingers curved and Yuugi bucked his hips up. The action caused both males to moan as heat surged through them. "Y-Y-Yes," Yuugi answered, his body continuing to rock against Yami's probing fingers. "I-I-I like—ah, ah!"

Deciding that enough lubricant had been applied (or finally realising that his patience had already left him and slammed the door closed behind it long ago), Yami pulled out his fingers and positioned himself in preparation for the penetration. Yuugi's legs were still wrapped around his waist and the tip of his erection gently teased Yuugi's entrance. He leaned forward, grabbed Yuugi's wrists in one hand, and anchored them in place above his head. His other hand remained at the younger boy's hips, keeping him in place. He peered down at Yuugi's flushed face, gazing deep into his eyes, asking for the final time whether this was okay.

Yuugi only smiled at him, and that smile was just as sinful as it was heavenly.

The former spirit could never have been so happier to see such a beautiful smile from his aibou.

Yami slid into Yuugi's entrance slowly—not only for the boy's benefit but also for his own. "Damn it," the former spirit cursed, closing his eyes tightly at the sudden warmth and uncomfortable pressure that encased him. Aibou was tight—too tight, how was he ever going to get himself fully in?—and he groaned as he pushed himself further, sinking into him deeper, until he couldn't possibly bury himself inside the youth any more.

They stayed like that for a couple of silent moments—broken only by their sharp breaths and quiet moans—and after those moments, Yami felt Yuugi slacken against him and he almost cried out in joy when the overbearing tightness loosened to a pleasurable, endurable pressure. It was just right—the fit was snug and it was right and by Ra, it felt so damn good—

One moment they were still.

And the next, Yami was pounding into his aibou with a frenzy that would make rabbits flush in shame.

With his hands trapped above his head, Yuugi could do little more than scream and cry and moan as Yami rode him with any pace he saw fit. He squirmed violently and he bucked and he tried to keep up with his speed, but the older man was going too fast—too fast and too hard, and it left Yuugi in a state of delirious pleasure and pain and oh-oh-oh

It was so damn good!

Yami continued with his relentless pace, sweat dripping from every inch of his body due to his efforts. He was aware that his heavy grip on Yuugi's hip was no doubt going to leave him bruises; he was aware that his nails were biting against the skin of Yuugi's wrists; he was aware that maybe, he was going too fast, going too hard—but right now, he was too lost in his own explosion of bliss to care. Yuugi wasn't protesting—it was far from protesting—and as far as Yami was concerned, he had the direct permission to be as rough and as demanding as he wanted.

The boy had given himself to him to do what he willed, and he would be damned if he restrained himself now.

The thought channelled into his body and if it was possible, he pounded into Yuugi even harder.

"A-A-Ah, ah! Y-Y-Yami…!" Yuugi squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip harshly. The mattress beneath them squeaked at the force of their movements and the sound of their love making dripped into his ears like sweet, sinful honey. It was so wet, so warm, and Yuugi could feel the harsh slapping of Yami's balls against his ass, and although he wanted to reach up and grab the former spirit's hair to pull him down closer to him, he couldn't because his damn wrists were trapped above his head and he could do nothing more than subject himself to Yami's complete and utter control.

"Ahh, ahh!" And then somehow, during their wild frenzy, Yami finally found the spot—the spot deep inside of Yuugi that had him buckling and arching and had his legs tightening around Yami's waist painfully and before he knew it, he was almost screaming and he was grunting and— "Hnnngh!"

Yami noticed the change immediately and he instantly adjusted his position to strike the same spot, over and over and over again in his uncontrolled pace. Their bodies were shaking terribly now and Yami scooped down to seal Yuugi's lips in a scorching kiss, his tongue sloppily gliding over his lips before he forced himself through and vigorously assaulted his mouth. Their saliva slipped unbidden down their chins, messy, wet, and all-too wild. Ra, his aibou—his aibou

Was so fucking beautiful.

Yuugi forcefully tore his mouth away and he groaned deeply; Yami's head fell to his neck and he felt his teeth bite against the flesh roughly, almost desperately, as if Yami needed an anchor for himself too or else he'd lose himself in the sea of pleasure. Although Yuugi tried to weakly free his hands, Yami's grip was like iron and it would not be broken, which had Yuugi crying out in frustration. "Y-Yami!" he moaned. "S-S-Stop! S-Slow-Slow down! Y-You're going… to—to ma… ah! Ah! Ah! Yami!"

The bastard was doing the opposite of what he was saying!


And after a good deal of time of relentless, mind-blowing pounding that would no doubt have Yuugi absolutely bloody aching in the morning, Yuugi felt the coil deep inside his belly suddenly snap with a vengeance and he cried out loudly, his body arching as he climaxed all over Yami's bare stomach. Yami made a noise above him, something deep and raw that originated from the back of his throat, as he desperately pounded into Yuugi a couple more times before he climaxed himself, groaning and whining without abandon, sending his seed deep inside of the youth.

After a final, weary thrust and a heavy moment of silence, Yami slowly pulled out of him and collapsed on the bed. He let go of Yuugi's wrists and hip in favour of winding his arms around his aibou's body, bringing their sweaty selves closer until they were flush against each other again.

They breathed against each other for a few moments, both of them suddenly tired and sore and completely spent. Yuugi slowly wrapped his arms around Yami's torso and buried his face into the older man's chest, releasing a shaky, contented breath that could have been a sigh or a moan. In response, Yami lifted his leg and intertwined them around Yuugi's gently, making sure not to cause his aibou additional pain with his soreness. He kissed the top of Yuugi's head and they both fell silent and still.

Then, as the night wore on and their mind-numbing bliss ebbed away (although their happiness would definitely not drift away any time soon—perhaps never), Yami finally chuckled and said, "There."

Yuugi didn't move his head from its position against Yami's chest. "Hmm?"

"I showed you what a shotacon was. There."

There was a pause, and then Yuugi finally looked up to stare into Yami's amused and triumphant eyes. Yuugi shook his head slowly. "That wasn't a shotacon."

Yami's smirk died and he narrowed his eyes at his aibou. "Do you even know the definition? It's when—"

"That wasn't a shotacon," Yuugi said again, interrupting him. "That was hentai."

Yami blinked and he lost his sharp look. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded thoughtfully, agreeing, but then he frowned. "How did you know that hentai was also a genre of manga?"

Yuugi blushed and dropped his gaze downwards. He mumbled something that Yami didn't quite catch. "Pardon, aibou?"

The youth squirmed in embarrassment and Yami had to repress the hiss that threatened to slip from his mouth as the movement rubbed against his crotch. "It… It was the first manga I ever read," he finally admitted, and at the confession, his face flushed even redder. "I-I didn't know what I was reading! I was young and I just picked a random book off the shelf, and bam! First chapter! Scarred for life!"

Yami's mouth gaped open in astonishment and then he laughed. Loudly. Without restraint. (Just like his love-making, actually.) He laughed and laughed and it didn't help any when he saw Yuugi's pout flash at him angrily. "So-So that's why you don't read manga," Yami chuckled once he calmed down sufficiently enough to form whole sentences without cracking up. "You associate manga with pervertedness!"

People really needed to stop putting R18+ manga on the public shelf. Who knows how many cases of childhood scarring this already induced?

Yuugi scowled and hit him lightly on the chest. "Can you blame me?" he asked, still blushing furiously. "It didn't help that all Jounouchi-kun read were manga with… with big-breasted women, you know?" He buried his face against Yami's chest to hide his unnaturally warm face and tightened his arms around him.

The former spirit snickered and returned the tightness in kind. They were silent for a second, and then Yami murmured in amusement, "My aibou… My little one… My little shota…"

Even though he knew the older man couldn't see it, Yuugi rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Don't call me that." He crossed his fingers that it wouldn't become a new nickname for him but knowing his luck (and Yami), that was just wishful thinking.

Yami refrained from laughing again. Contrary to what the younger thought, their life really was a shotacon—mixed with a whole lot of other manga genres, certainly, and for that Yami was definitely not complaining. He was content with just embracing him for now, feeling his heartbeat against his, and just as he was drifting off into a peaceful slumber, Yuugi spoke up.



"You didn't do your Maths homework."

Yami stiffened in realisation.

"You're not copying mine."

… Damn.

"That'll teach you to waste all your time reading perverted manga."

His aibou, although innocent and naïve and absolutely adorable, was also pure evil.

And Yami loved even that part of his cute, little shota.


The End