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Blue Eyes


Contains explicit male/male sex and disturbing content.

Pairings: Kaiba/various

Summary: Sometime after the end of the Battle City Tournament, Kaiba begins to deal with his loss, isolation, and his feelings for his little brother.


Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Just borrowing!

Acknowledgment: Thanks to J. Crew Guy for beta and enthusiasm!

* * *

The dueling arena seemed to expand and swell, rolling queasily across Kaiba’s vision. And yet Yugi, far across the arena, only grew taller, more triumphant, more demanding.

Kaiba had lost. Even his God card could not stand against Yugi Mutou. Kaiba stared down at the card in his hand. Obelisk the Tormentor. He’d thought the God card would make him invincible, but it had failed him.

He had lost. He heard Mokuba’s wails of disbelief and disappointment. He heard Yugi’s friends’ cheers. Now, he must cross this arena in defeat, while they all watched, surrender his card to his conqueror. He swallowed, but was unable to dispel the lump in his throat. He squared his shoulders, and took a step forward.

The arena shifted under his feet. Kaiba sucked in air and tried to steady himself. He took another step. Yugi seemed at once larger and farther away. Kaiba’s stomach roiled. His eyes started to burn.

No. He would die on the spot, he would stop his own heart by force of will, before he would cry in front of Yugi and his friends. He blinked hard and took another step.

The Duel Disk on his left wrist grew heavy, as the cards within it began to shift, moving as if angry, as if rejecting the owner who had brought them failure. He heard the faint roar of the Blue Eyes White Dragon, resentful of his loss. Kaiba wanted to sink to his knees and apologize to his dragon, beg its forgiveness for losing this final match.

He kept walking across the arena, although Yugi seemed even farther away now. He held his head high, his back straight, while his heart broke into millions of tiny pieces. He was ashamed, but his shame was cold and hard, like ice water dripping down his chest. It stuck in his throat and in his belly.

“Big Brother!” Mokuba called. His voice was a wail of pain. Don’t cry, he wanted to tell his brother, but he didn’t dare speak, or turn his head. He could only keep his eyes forward, his step straight ahead. “Yeah, Kaiba, who’s the loser now?” Joey’s voice taunted. The burning in Kaiba’s eyes increased. He doggedly walked on.

By the time he reached Yugi at the other end of the arena, sweat was soaking Kaiba’s body, making his clothing cling uncomfortably. His breath was coming in short, heavy gasps. Yugi had grown until he loomed over Kaiba. His violet eyes flashed, as he stared haughtily down at Kaiba.

“Yugi,” Kaiba said.

Yugi nodded and waited.

Kaiba held the God card in cupped hands, and bowed deeply as he offered the card to Yugi.

He waited. And Yugi let him wait, let him stand bent over, hands outstretched. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, trying to remain calm, until finally Yugi leaned down and gently took the card from him, cool, blunt fingers brushing lightly against his palm.

The coldness in him was spreading, not just in his chest now, but shivering across his shoulders, down his back, between his legs. Kaiba remained in a low bow, even though Yugi had taken his prize, and Kaiba’s hands were empty. He was still waiting for something, although he wasn’t sure what. Then he felt the Duel Disk on his wrist stir again.

“Blue Eyes,” Kaiba whispered. His throat hurt. The wind blew harshly across his naked back. His clothing was gone, leaving him exposed to everyone around the arena. Yet he still couldn’t stand up.

Then he saw the faint blue-white holographic glow emerge from his deck, and he knew what he was waiting for. The Blue Eyes White Dragon formed in front of him, scales glinting in the sun, breath groaning in its huge throat, fumes of sulfur and dragon musk swirling in the air. It had come to punish him.

Kaiba closed his eyes. His knees grew watery, and he braced his hands on his thighs. His stomach roiled as he felt the whoosh of the great dragon’s wings spreading. Then its body settled around him, and lifted him into the air, its sharp metallic scales digging into his sides. Kaiba shuddered, shifted in the Blue Eyes’s grasp.

The dragon’s sharp, needlelike claws gripped him, piercing his chest and thighs. Kaiba moaned in pain, the cold of his shame melting swiftly to the heat of fear. One claw stabbed into his nipple, sending shockwaves of pain and horrible arousal through him. He pulled ineffectually at the great beast’s claws, helpless against the Blue Eyes White Dragon’s strength. Then claws crept between his legs, pricking his thighs apart, and the beast’s huge member prodded his buttocks. Kaiba struggled, suspended in the air in a dragon’s implacable grip, screaming now in fear and pain, but unable to stop the huge phallus from entering him. It was rough and scaly, hard as stone, and he could feel the sharp edges of the scales cutting as they spread him, working ever more deeply into him.

“No!” he protested, begged, hot tears now spilling from his eyes unheeded. “Please. Blue Eyes….” But the huge beast was senseless to his pleas and struggles, and it continued relentlessly to thrust into him. And, despite the pain and humiliation, his own cock hardened in response, and it too wept as he hung helpless in the dragon’s claws.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “Blue Eyes….”

* * *

Kaiba struggled awake in a hot, sticky fog, sheet wrapped around one leg, hand clutching his wilting cock, semen cooling on his belly. He suppressed a groan, trying to steady his breathing, and let go of his cock, rubbing his sticky hand on his thigh. He glanced over at the other side of the bed, where his brother curled up in sleep, a slash of moonlight across his pale cheek.

Thank the gods Mokuba hadn’t wakened. Kaiba licked his lips and swallowed, his throat nearly as dry as it had been in his dream. Had he made any noise? Had he called out in his sleep? His eyes burned as if he’d been crying. Kaiba rubbed them roughly. Damn. This had to stop. It was the third time this week he’d had that dream, or one like it, and woken up with semen in his hand. He couldn’t keep doing this with Mokuba in his bed.

Slowly, he began to work his leg free of the sheet, all the while watching Mokuba to make sure he didn’t wake up. He was barely aware of the tiny smile that twitched the corner of his mouth at the sight of his little brother sleeping peacefully at his side. Probably it was wrong, at their ages, to be sleeping in the same bed. But after the trouble with Noah that had nearly separated Kaiba from his brother permanently, they both slept better with the other nearby.

But if Mokuba… ? Kaiba finally untangled the sheet, and gently pulled it over Mokuba’s sleeping form. If Mokuba woke up one night and saw his big brother in the throes of a wet dream, with his hands on his cock—or worse, with with his hands on his little brother—

Kaiba’s breath caught, and he moved away from Mokuba. It was time, it was past time, for Mokuba to go back to his own bed.

But how could he explain to Mokuba why he couldn’t sleep with him any longer? He couldn’t very well tell him that he was having violent dreams about being buggered by his Blue Eyes White Dragon. But he’d have to tell him something that would make sense, something that was close enough to the truth, that Mokuba would accept.

He turned onto his side, facing his brother. Carefully, he reached out, and stroked one strand of the silky black hair spilling onto the pillow. Kaiba loved Mokuba’s hair and had never bothered him to cut it, allowing him to let it grow in luscious thick clouds down his back.

Maybe if he masturbated before he went to bed he wouldn’t have the dreams.

* * *

Kaiba locked the door to his private VR room and turned on the computer. This was where he did the initial development on his holographic games, on a dedicated system, completely isolated from the Kaiba Corp network. He picked a set of DVDs of works-in-progress from the shelves and loaded them into the computer’s tray.

This was his preliminary version of the Legendary Heroes game—one that the Big 5 had never touched. Of course, it was also rough and incomplete. That was fine for Kaiba’s purposes; he just needed a jumping-off point for what he had in mind today.

Next, he loaded in a hardcore sex game he’d hacked on the Internet, just to save himself the trouble of reinventing the wheel. He had no intention of ever releasing this particular version of Legendary Heroes, so there was no need to worry about borrowing someone else’s code. He ran the sex game program through a decompiler, then dumped the raw code into the Legendary Heroes library.

Kaiba sat down at his console. He wiped his hands on his pants and placed them on the keyboard.

It took him three hours of concentrated work to develop a Blue Eyes White Dragon that would perform sexual acts in the desired way. The sex game was designed to animate human bodies, not dragons, but the basics were there, and Kaiba was as brilliant with this as with all his work. Most of it was nuance; how hard the dragon would grip, how sharp the claws, how long it would thrust. He spent a good forty-five minutes designing the dragon’s penis to achieve the desired size and rough, scaled texture.

Finally, he sat back and looked at his creation. His Blue Eyes White Dragon, his loyal defender, the pride of his deck. Turned into a sex toy to appease some sick need.

It’s just electrical impulses in a machine, Kaiba told himself. He still didn’t believe that “heart of the cards” nonsense that Yugi was always talking about. A card was a card.

And yet—now that it was done, it felt wrong to pervert his beloved Blue Eyes this way. He stared at the screen for a long time. With one click, he could delete it. He reached for the mouse.

And dragged the color wheel to the left, changing the dragon’s blue-white scales to silver-grey, its sky-blue eyes to charcoal. And there it was—the Dark Eyes Silver Dragon, avenger of its brother’s defeats. Kaiba drew a deep breath, and let it out a little shakily.

Next, he went to work on the game’s other monsters. Most of them he left alone, but to a select few he added sexual functionality. Dark Magician. Harpy Lady. Witty Phantom. Each one was personalized, given special styles and talents. He hesitated over Joey’s favorite Red Eyes Black Dragon, then left it alone. One ravaging dragon per game was enough. If he wanted to be sodomized by one of Joey Wheeler’s cards—which he didn’t—maybe Flame Swordsman? He hesitated again, then finally included the square-jawed warrior in his collection of Special Attack monsters. It was a mid-level monster, not particularly powerful. If he couldn’t defeat it, he deserved what he got.

Then, finally, he turned to the game’s characters. Or to one of them, anyway: the Princess. The small, raven-haired beauty who bore a striking resemblance to a certain little brother of Kaiba’s. He integrated her program with the sex game’s Kabuki actor, then began to fine-tune. But presently he found his fingers trembling as he picked out behaviors and tried them out on the character on the screen. Much more than with the Blue Eyes White Dragon, something inside him was screaming that this was wrong. Even with the sex change, she was too close to Mokuba for comfort. Abruptly, he saved his work, leaving the Princess in a limbo of partially-realized functions, and sat back from the computer, shaking.

Only then did he look at the clock and realize that he’d been working on this private sex fantasy all day. He was stiff and exhausted and hungry, and more than a little disgusted with himself. It was time he tended to his business and left this exercise in perversion for another day.

* * *

In the following days, Kaiba continued to work obsessively on his private game, locking himself into his computer laboratory for hours on end, adding new monsters to his Special Attack database, refining their behaviors, developing the rules for the game. And it was a game, with life points to protect and experiences to accumulate and levels to achieve. Even for a masturbatory fantasy, he couldn’t help making it as detailed and well-designed as possible.

He returned to the Princess character with fretful regularity, worrying at her like a bruise, sweet and painful and irresistible. He added behaviors and deleted them, spent hours refining some small detail—the way she touched her hair when she was flustered; the curve of her lower lip when she smiled; the smooth milky velvet of her skin. He made her shy and virginal, frightened but unable to resist the tide of passion inside her. He made her a child prostitute, talented and worldly and insatiable. He briefly turned her male, then back to female again.

The later he worked at night, the more like Mokuba she would become, the more his fingers would tremble and falter on the keys, the more his face would burn and his cock would harden, until finally he would sit back in his chair with his hands in his pants and tears in his eyes, working himself to a shameful release while the Princess danced and sighed and offered herself on the computer screen.

Then he would shut down the computer and stumble wearily to bed, where his beloved little brother slept peacefully, and he would settle as close to Mokuba as he dared, watching him and wanting him and hating himself until exhaustion finally took him.

He’d worked on the program for a week, and still hadn’t entered the virtual world to try it out. He teetered constantly on the verge of strapping himself into the VR pod to experience it first hand, but always something held him back. He told himself he was concerned about the safety protocols—combining two different VR worlds was always a little tricky, and he’d programmed a number of large and ferocious monsters to overpower and sexually assault their opponents. Preventing the holographic characters from damaging the players hadn’t been a major concern for the sex game’s creators. But Kaiba’s Special Attack monsters could be dangerous if he didn’t design their behaviors with care. He wavered between wanting to be overcome by their power, and needing a safe exit in case he got into something he couldn’t handle.

He finally decided the game needed several difficulty levels, which would give him the ability to choose how easily he could stop or redirect the action, including a beta level with a quick and simple exit from the game at all times. That added even more complexity to his work. But the last thing he needed was to find himself stuck in the game being forced by a monster whose size and ferocity he’d miscalculated. It wouldn’t be his real body being clawed and penetrated, but injuries received in VR simulations could still be traumatic, especially in a system as detailed and realistic as his.

At the back of his mind was the niggling thought that perhaps it wasn’t entirely safety concerns that held him back from entering into his game. That he was afraid, not only of misjudging his monsters’ violence, but of why he wanted it, and what it would do to him. But he resolutely pushed these thoughts aside. Fantasies were fantasies, meaningless mental detritus. He was nervous about playing the game, naturally. He’d never done anything like this before, and didn’t really know what to expect. He’d get over that as soon as he’d played it a few times. Which he would do, just as soon as he’d done a little more work on the levels.

At least all the work was having one good effect—he hadn’t had the dream since he’d begun designing the game. Whether that was because he was expending all his sexual energy on the images and sensations of the game characters, or whether he was simply exhausting himself with all the late nights, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He was sleeping deeply and without dreams.

The game’s effect on everything else in his life wasn’t so good, though. After the first few days, he’d forced himself to take care of Kaiba Corp business first before locking himself away in his private laboratory, but even so, he was spending far too much time on something he’d never show to another living soul. He wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep, and he was short-tempered and preoccupied and his employees were all avoiding him.

He was always this way on a new project, though. It would pass, once he’d finished the game. Meanwhile, Mokuba was safe, and that was all that really mattered.

* * *

Kaiba was sitting on the couch in his office, notebook computer in his lap, taking a short break from both Kaiba Corp business and work on the game, and catching up on his email. His eyes were aching from days of exhaustion, and he found himself drifting off, staring at screens full of characters that made no sense.

Then Mokuba was at his side, holding out a cup of tea. Kaiba put his laptop aside, smiling, and took the cup gratefully. “Thank you, Mokuba.”

Mokuba smiled and sat on the couch, pressed close to Kaiba’s side. “Are you all right, Big Brother?”

“Mm. Of course. Just a little tired.”

“You’re working hard on your new game.”

“Yes.” He hadn’t thought about what he was going to do when the game was finished and Mokuba, who was always the first to see Kaiba’s new toys, would expect to play with it. Well, he didn’t lie to his brother. “This one’s private, Mokuba. Just something for myself.”

“Oh? Okay.” Mokuba didn’t seem bothered, just confused. He’d never known Kaiba to work so hard on anything that wasn’t Kaiba Corp business. “Are you sure you’re all right, Big Brother? You’ve been acting sad.”

He started to repeat that he was fine. But hadn’t he just said to himself that he didn’t lie to his brother? Kaiba sighed, set his tea cup down on the side table beside his laptop, and took Mokuba into his arms. “You’re right, I have been a little sad. Ever since….”

Mokuba wrapped his arms tightly around his brother’s chest. “You’re still upset about the tournament.”

Kaiba felt his face heat. “No,” he said, but wasn’t that another lie? The dreams—the Blue Eyes, clawing at him, taking him—that was the image that constantly filled his mind, but that wasn’t all of it. The long, painful walk across the arena in defeat to hand over his God card to Yugi was just as much a part of the dreams. And yes, it still hurt. It tore him up inside to know that he couldn’t beat Yugi. Not without threatening to kill himself if he lost.

He pulled Mokuba close, burying his face for a moment in his little brother’s fine black hair. It was so good to hold him like this, to feel the small body pressed against his chest, arms clinging to him tightly. So good….

“I never lost at anything, before Yugi,” he said.

“Maybe you should talk to him.”

“Talk to Yugi? Why would I want to do that?” He didn’t even want to think about Yugi.

Mokuba shrugged against him, without loosening his grip. “It might help. Yugi’s nice. If you talked to him, if you got to be his friend, maybe it wouldn’t feel so bad to lose to him.”

Kaiba stroked his brother’s back. He sighed deeply, inhaling his scent. Times like this, he loved Mokuba so much he thought he’d burst. “I don’t need any friends but you.”

Mokuba relaxed his hold, and looked up at Kaiba smiling, shiny-eyed with pleasure. “I think you should talk to Yugi.”

Kaiba groaned. Mokuba’s suggestion was mild and without apparent pressure, but Kaiba wasn’t fooled. Mokuba had made up his mind, and there was no use fighting it. Mokuba wouldn’t push, he wouldn’t insist, but neither would he give up, and in the end he would have his way. Kaiba might as well agree now and save himself the trouble. “All right, I’ll call him.”

“Okay.” Mokuba moved away, and began to slide off the couch. Kaiba pulled him back.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get your phone. So you can call Yugi….”

“Later.” This time, he was the one holding his brother tightly. “I want you right here.”

Unhesitatingly, Mokuba settled back into Kaiba’s arms. “You’ve been working a lot lately.”

“I know. It will be finished soon, I think.”

“I miss you when you work so much.”

Sometimes it seemed he couldn’t hold his brother tightly enough. He wanted to fold Mokuba right into himself, make him part of his own body. “I miss you too, Little Brother.” A pang of guilt stabbed through him. He hadn’t been spending enough time with Mokuba, and he didn’t even have the excuse of being busy running his business this time. No, he was spending his time designing a sex game he’d die of shame if anyone else ever saw, which he hadn’t even had the nerve to play yet, in the probably vain hope that screwing himself senseless would distract him from an improper desire for his own brother. Meanwhile, he was avoiding Mokuba because he was afraid of hurting him, and he was hurting him by avoiding him. “I’m sorry, Mokuba.”

And this was surely a red flag to Mokuba: Kaiba never apologized for anything. Mokuba looked up at him, wide blue eyes troubled. “You don’t have to be sorry. I know you work hard. You’ve always taken care of me.”

“And I always will. I promise.” The promise was a little too fervent, as well. Kaiba began to feel a little ill, but he didn’t know what to say.

“It will be okay, Big Brother.” Sweet reassurance from a boy who couldn’t possibly understand what was wrong.

Dear Mokuba. Kaiba pulled him up until they were cheek to cheek, ran one hand through Mokuba’s hair to cup the back of his head, let his lips slide across Mokuba’s jaw. Mokuba pushed up onto his knees, throwing one across Kaiba’s thighs to straddle his lap. He took Kaiba’s face in his hands, his fingers cool on Kaiba’s flaming cheeks.

Tears burned behind Kaiba’s tightly-shut eyelids. A line was being crossed, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself to save his life. He kissed Mokuba’s cheek, one hand tightening in his hair, the other sliding down Mokuba’s back to brush across the waistband of his pants. The precious body, so small, so familiar, hot and smelling faintly of boy-musk, shirt awry as he rubbed his torso against Kaiba’s, was at once so wonderful and so terrible Kaiba thought his heart would burst.

Then small lips melted into his, and Kaiba was lost, lost; he opened his mouth and thrust his tongue into his brother’s, kissed him as though he were about to die.

For one crushing moment, there was nothing but the kiss: Kaiba wrapped around his brother, tongues meeting, for once as close as he needed to be. His groin throbbed painfully, his heart pounded against his ribcage. He forgot everything but being with the one person he loved more than anything.

Then Mokuba twisted in his grasp, a small noise of protest escaping him. Reality shocked Kaiba like a bucketful of ice water. He released his brother, slumped back on the couch, feeling sick, his muscles all turned to jelly. His breath came in short, desperate gasps.

Mokuba sat back on Kaiba’s knees, balancing himself on his hands. His eyes were wide and wet with tears, his cheeks flame red, his shirt rucked up over his belly. “Big Brother… ?”

“Mokuba… forgive me. Please… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry….” Even now, even like this, Kaiba’s body shook with desire. He covered his face with his hands.

He felt Mokuba’s hands take his gently and pull them away. “It’s all right, Big Brother. It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right!” Kaiba protested, thick hard words coming in gasps. “It’s horrible! Disgusting—unforgivable.”

“No! No, Big Brother. Please don’t… please.” Mokuba threw his arms around Kaiba’s neck, and buried his face in Kaiba’s shoulder. “Please, it’s all right,” he wept. “I don’t understand.”

There was nothing Kaiba could do but put his arms around Mokuba’s trembling shoulders and tell him what he needed to hear. “Shh. All right, it’s all right. I’ll make it all right, I promise.” The horrible need drained out of him, and Mokuba was his little brother again, the cherished child he’d been both mother and father to since he was eight, when their parents died. The child he’d promised to protect from all the evils of the world, which now included an older brother whose desires were out of control.

He would get them under control. That was a promise, to himself as well as Mokuba. If he had to cut off his own balls, he’d never do this to his brother again.

It was time for the game.

* * *

In beta mode, Kaiba could choose which of his Special Attack monsters to activate. His original intention—and the sensible thing to do—was to begin with one of the lower-attack monsters and try them out one by one.

Kaiba was feeling far from sensible. He activated them all, randomized the order of their attacks, then strapped himself into the pod and entered the game.

After a moment’s disorientation, he stood in the field that was the game’s entry point. There was a fresh breeze coming down from the mountains in the north, carrying on it the scent of wildflowers. Fluffy white clouds floated high in the sky, and the afternoon sun warmed his back. Unseen birds twittered in the woods to the west and south. He stood for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself. This part of the game was pure Legendary Heroes; he hadn’t altered the landscape or the environmental parameters of the game at all, only the inhabitants and the player’s physical responses. He knew this field like the back of his hand, and let its familiarity wash over him.

Then he stroked his hand lightly down the front of his pants, to test this virtual body’s sexual responsiveness—and nearly jumped from the surge of arousal that burned through him. He stared down at himself, a little surprised by the fierce erection that tented his trousers. Perhaps he’d better turn that down a little next time.

Or not. This was what he was here for, after all.

He shifted a little, stamping his feet, as if against a cold chill. The valley to the west was where the game’s storyline played out, but the monsters were everywhere, and could attack at any time. He only had to choose whether to make his stand in the woods, or on open ground.

Standing around waiting for trouble to come to him had never been Kaiba’s way. He began to walk towards the woods, keeping his step firm, his head high, his thoughts resolutely focused on the game.

There was a tap on his shoulder. He whirled, setting himself automatically into defensive stance.

Dark Magician. Yugi’s favorite monster, and Kaiba’s chief rival. The spellcaster stood tall in his flowing purple and violet robes, arms crossed jauntily with his staff in one hand, an amused smile on his pert mouth.

Kaiba’s hand flew to his wrist for a card to defend himself, but found only bare skin. In his haste to plunge into the game and blot out what he’d done to Mokuba, he’d forgotten to put his deck in the machine.

Forgotten? Or had he subconsciously chosen to enter the game without his cards? And why should he fight? He was here to be attacked. He deserved to be attacked.

But not like this. Not by Dark Magician. Why this monster, of all the Special Attack monsters he’d created? Why Yugi’s monster? He took a step back, mind in a whirl, casting about for a way, any way, to defend himself without his deck. He had no weapons—nothing that would work on a Duel Monster, anyway, especially one as powerful as Dark Magician. Against any human opponent, he didn’t need anything but his fists and feet, but all his martial arts training would be useless against Yugi’s monster.

Could he outrun him? Trick him? Hide from him? Not out here in the field, but maybe if he made it to the woods….

Kaiba turned and ran.

He’d taken no more than five steps when the Dark Magician’s staff caught his ankles and sent him sprawling. He rolled and flipped himself to his feet, facing the Dark Magician. Yugi’s monster gave his head a tiny shake, and waggled his finger, as if chiding a naughty child. But he made no further move towards Kaiba.

The Dark Magician was toying with him, playing cat and mouse. Kaiba tried to remember all the special behaviors he’d added to the monster, but the Dark Magician was a quirky fellow even without modification, and it was hard to predict how the new programs would interact with his normal behaviors.

“Look,” Kaiba tried, “Can we talk about this?”

The Dark Magician smiled silkily, and reached out his staff to tap Kaiba in the chest. In automatic reaction, Kaiba swung his arm up to knock the staff away, only to have his arm bounce off harmlessly. It was like hitting a fencepost set in concrete. “I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ ” he said, then spun and sped off again.

This time he made it nearly to the edge of the wood before the sharp, electric blast of the monster’s Dark Magic attack hit the small of his back. Pain shot through him as his muscles failed, and he fell heavily to the dirt, nerves twitching. It took several attempts just to roll over onto his back and stare up at the monster looming over him.

The Dark Magician’s expression had not changed. He stood over Kaiba, arms crossed, wide violet eyes regarding Kaiba with cold amusement.

Kaiba waited. There was nothing else he could do. Sweat trickled down his temple, and his heart thudded against his ribcage. He was afraid, and he wanted out.

He could call off the game. In beta mode, a simple spoken phrase would stop simulation. He didn’t have to go through with this.

And then what? Shut down the game and go back to Mokuba?

He waited.

The Dark Magician leaned down and held out a hand. The faint smile still played about his lips, the violet eyes remained impenetrable. Kaiba hesitated, then took the monster’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. The Dark Magician’s hand was cool and smooth, yet there was something uncomfortable in its touch, a slight buzz, as if it were generating an electrical field.

The Dark Magician lifted him up off his feet and held him dangling in the air, looked him over with a casual glance, then set him down, hooking the staff around his waist to corral him in. Up close, the Dark Magician loomed over him as if he were a small child (and the thought passed briefly through his mind that this was how Yugi saw the world all the time), a mysterious and imposing presence, crackling with that same electrical energy Kaiba had felt in the touch of his hand. Kaiba found himself straining back against the staff, sweating with apprehension, despite his determination not to be intimidated by Yugi’s pet monster. He went over everything he knew about the Dark Magician’s programming, with and without the added special behaviors, hoping to come up with some way to negotiate with or trick the monster, to mitigate the full force of the direct attack. Being toyed with this way was far more upsetting than a straightforward assault would have been. He wished the Dark Magician would just get on with it, and do whatever it was he was going to do.

The Dark Magician pulled him close with one yank of the staff across Kaiba’s lower back, pressing his thigh between Kaiba’s legs. Squirming, Kaiba found himself rubbing against the solid thigh. Shivers of arousal, lit up by reluctance and fear, flickered through him. He clutched at the Dark Magician’s robes, pushing himself away and holding himself up at the same time. He stared into inscrutable violet eyes. As much as he wanted to stare down that gaze, Kaiba found himself forced to look away.

Cool, hard fingers took him by the chin, and turned his face back. This time, Kaiba managed to hold the monster’s gaze, but only with the help of the hand holding his head steady. The Dark Magician’s thumb stroked Kaiba’s lower lip, its faint electricity making his mouth tingle. Helplessly, he closed his eyes when the thumb slid between his lips, and his mouth worked, sucking on it, letting it move deep into his throat. Tears pricked at Kaiba’s eyes; only long years of determined practice in refusing to cry held them back. He couldn’t bear what was happening to him—succumbing to the clichéd advances of a programmed monster, Yugi’s monster, not even human, not Mokuba.

Abruptly, the Dark Magician released him, letting his staff fall away, pulling his thumb from Kaiba’s mouth, and taking a step back. Head tilted, the monster regarded him unblinkingly, awaiting his next move.

Kaiba knew that if he could only manage to submit, it would all be over soon. He didn’t want to run. It was humiliating to be reacting out of fear and confusion, when the outcome was inescapable. Better to accept it with some sort of dignity. But then the Dark Magician made a feint—just the slightest twitch of his staff in Kaiba’s direction—and, spooked, Kaiba took flight, running with all his strength toward the woods.

As he ran, dodging between trees, Kaiba began to think that perhaps he’d gotten away after all. The Dark Magician didn’t seem to be following. Kaiba couldn’t think of any reason the Dark Magician wouldn’t come into the woods, but perhaps there was some obscure rule about spellcasters and trees….

Then he ran around a huge oak, and nearly ran straight into the Dark Magician, leaning casually against the tree trunk, arms crossed, violet eyes half-lidded. Kaiba had to scramble to bring himself up short, turn sharply, and head off in the other direction.

But before he’d gone a step, the monster’s arm shot out and grabbed his wrist. Kaiba snapped to a halt, nearly thrown to the ground by the impact, and cried out in pain as the monster’s grip twisted his arm.

Panicked, he began to fight in earnest, throwing kicks and punches with deadly force and precision. He might as well have been fighting a tank. The Dark Magician stood calmly, keeping an iron grip on Kaiba’s wrist, and let him spend his strength in futile blows.

He was still pounding one-handed on the Dark Magician’s chest—more out of frustration than any real effort to escape—when the monster picked him up and held him to his chest in a harsh embrace, wrist still gripped tightly behind his back. Kaiba began to struggle again, furious and humiliated—and even more helpless than before. He fought wildly, without any of his usual skill. At the back of his mind, the thought pricked at him that he had programmed this monster specifically for this purpose, that he was getting exactly what he’d thought he wanted. But now—he hadn’t known, he hadn’t understood that it would be like this. Did he still want it? Did he really think this was going to stop him wanting Mokuba?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t make himself stop what was happening; and he couldn’t stop fighting it.

He had begun to quiet a little when the Dark Magician set him down, still holding him by the arm, and looked him over with a penetrating stare. The monster’s expression had grown charged; there was now something creamy and satisfied in it, as if to say that Kaiba had performed his part well, but the preliminaries were over, and it was time to get down to business.

Kaiba felt his apprehension ratchet up into something approaching terror; his heart raced and his knees trembled so badly he could barely stand. But he felt a measure of relief, as well, that the cat and mouse game was finally over. He was caught, and there was no more need to fight. He drew himself up with what dignity he could muster, nodded slightly, and waited.

The Dark Magician smiled. Then he set his staff aside and released it—and it remained where it stood, its tip barely touching the ground, yet as solidly planted as any of the trees in the wood—and took Kaiba by the shoulders, maneuvering him firmly until his back was pressed against the staff, the rings carved around the smooth wood digging into his spine. Kaiba felt the same faint electricity running through the staff as in the monster’s hands on his shoulders, a low hum of magic and power. He wondered if Yugi ever felt this electric buzz from his favorite monster. Did it excite him? Did he dream of the Dark Magician at night, the cool smooth hands on him, the mysterious smiles? Did he imagine the monster riding him, and lie with his small hands wrapped around his cock, face screwed up in effort? Did he wake sweaty and confused, bedclothes a tangle, hips in a pool of cooling semen?

No. No doubt it was only himself who had these awful thoughts. Yet the image of Yugi wrapped in the arms of his monster remained strangely compelling.

The monster moved closer to Kaiba, again pressing a thigh between Kaiba’s legs, and Kaiba found himself growing hot, pressing back, the low hum a stroke of electricity along his cock that made him close his eyes and sigh. I am a sick, sick man, he thought.

He didn’t even flinch when the Dark Magician took his wrists and held them together behind his back, although he couldn’t help a flutter of apprehension when the monster began conjuring something soft and clingy and strong, like a spider web, that soon had his arms bound securely together behind the staff. Now he was certainly not going anywhere.

But he couldn’t help testing the bonds, and the Dark Magician stood back, arms crossed, smiling his secret smile, while Kaiba jerked and pulled at the web that held him fast to the staff. And the struggle aroused him, and the staff rubbing up and down his spine and teasing over his butt aroused him, and the Dark Magician’s creamy smile aroused him, until Kaiba could no longer fight, and stood with his chest heaving and his erection straining painfully at the fabric of his trousers.

The Dark Magician reached out and slid one finger down the front of Kaiba’s trousers, and flipped the button open with his thumb. Kaiba froze, pressing back against the staff. Surely he should have been prepared for this, but the move to undo his clothing shocked him, and suddenly Kaiba was struggling in earnest again, desperately twisting away from the monster’s hand. The Dark Magician put a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place and continued to unfasten Kaiba’s trousers with slow, deliberate fingers.

Kaiba bit his lip and took a few deep breaths to try to settle himself down. His reaction this time was sheer nerves, he knew—the truth was, he’d never actually had sex with anyone before. And, technically, he wasn’t going to now—it was all simulated, but it certainly felt real, from the drops of sweat trickling down his ribcage to the pounding of his heart to the scrape of fabric over his cock as the Dark Magician eased his shorts down over his hips….

The Dark Magician leaned down and pressed his lips to Kaiba’s, delicately lapping at Kaiba’s mouth with his tongue. Kaiba’s heart leaped: he hadn’t expected this. To be chased and thrown down, tied up and stripped—these things he expected, but to be kissed by a monster—briefly, he tried to recall how this behavior might have gotten programmed into the Dark Magician’s attack, but soon gave up thinking for the taste of the monster’s mouth, heat and dark spice and the same tingling electricity he felt whenever the monster touched him. It was good. It was really good. He’d never even kissed anyone before—well, except for his brother, and that was wrong, too wrong to feel this good. Not that this wasn’t wrong, a whole different kind of wrongness, but—hell. Kaiba opened his mouth and met the Dark Magician’s tongue with his own, sucking and licking and straining against his bonds to get as close to that electric body as possible, losing himself in the kiss—

He jumped and cried out when the Dark Magician’s hand covered his cock. Delicious little electric sparkles licked up and down his length, and he broke the kiss, gasping into the Dark Magician’s neck, and thrust helplessly into the monster’s hand. This was good, too. Scary good. Maybe a little too good, because his trousers were falling down around his ankles, restricting the movement of his legs, too, and the Dark Magician’s fingers were playing beneath his balls and teasing farther and farther back, and it was getting hard to catch his breath, and he wanted to be untied because he could no longer tell the difference between squirming with pleasure and struggling to escape, and he was about to have another attack of nerves—

The Dark Magician picked him up and lifted him over the staff, and lowered him to the ground on his back.

Where he lay, with his bound arms beneath him, his trousers tangled around his legs, looking up into the cool violet eyes of the monster crouching over him. He felt exposed and dirty and there was an ache in his groin that he didn’t think would ever go away. The Dark Magician smiled gently and stroked his face, soothing him. His vision blurred, and when he tried to blink it clear, drops of moisture trickled from his eyes down the sides of his face. They were only virtual tears, he told himself, and didn’t count. Something else that needed adjustment the next time he played the game….

The Dark Magician sat back on his knees, and pulled Kaiba into his lap, cradling him in his arms. He kissed Kaiba’s cheeks, and delicately licked the tears from the corners of his eyes. He stroked Kaiba’s cock with slow, leisurely motions. Kaiba buried his face in the Dark Magician’s robes. He no longer noticed the bonds tying his arms behind him, or the clothing tangled around his legs. He felt that he was disintegrating, body and soul, melting into nothing.

The Dark Magician turned him, until he was facing outward, sitting in the monster’s lap, then lifted him, and slowly began to lower him onto his cock. The Dark Magician’s member was long and slender and slick, and seemed to enter Kaiba forever, thrumming with electricity, opening him up like a the pages of a book. Kaiba felt his heart begin to beat in time with the throbbing of the magician’s cock inside him, filling him until there was nothing else but the huge rushing tide, in his ears and mouth and guts and eyes, and at last it poured out of him, draining him, and he fell to the ground an empty husk.

* * *

Kaiba awoke sometime later—how long, he didn’t know—still strapped into the pod. He groaned as he shifted in the chair. Every muscle in his body ached, his clothing was sticky with sweat, the front of his trousers were soggy with semen, his throat was raw, and his face was wet with tears. He brought up one hand, slowly, to wipe them away. The game… worked.

Although his mind felt somehow short-circuited. Images and sensations tumbled around in his brain, purple and violet and electricity, breath of wind on his exposed lower body, soft sticky webs woven around his arms, mysterious smiles, cool fingers, dry throat, cock stretching him until he broke apart and blew away like a Duel Monster defeated in battle. He couldn’t even catch a single image to focus his mind on, let alone decide how he felt about any of it.

And he was exhausted. Bone-deep weary, body and mind. He felt as though he really had just been chased down, tied up, and fucked senseless by a monster. Maybe there was a fault in the game. Maybe he should check the feedback sensors. Maybe….

Kaiba rubbed his eyes. There was still water dripping from them. Some sort of unexpected physical reaction, because he wasn’t crying. He should have brought a handkerchief, but how was he supposed to know? The back of his throat burned, and he was so tired. He would just close his eyes for a minute and rest, and then he’d start checking out the sensors. Just for a minute….

But the next thing he knew, it was morning, and he was still in the pod, feeling, if anything, more stiff and sore and exhausted than before. His sleep had been restless and harried with dreams, full of images of ravening monsters, lost duels, pain and fear and horrible release. He was not entirely sure he hadn’t gone back into the game, maybe more than once, maybe even repeatedly all night long, taking on monster after monster, resting only when he’d been ejected from the game for losing all his life points.

Either way, he’d gotten no rest. His temples throbbed, and he hurt everywhere, and he wanted to just go back to sleep, but he had to pee, so finally he unstrapped himself and climbed stiffly out of the pod.

In the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection. His face was pale, with smudges of purple under his eyes. His clothing was rumpled and sweat-stained, and there was a stiff dried patch on the front of his trousers, ringed with flaky white. He brushed at it ineffectually, and sighed. He looked like shit and he felt worse. Had the game made things any better? Or had it just made them worse?

Never mind. Get some real sleep in a real bed, and he’d worry about what it all meant later. Mokuba ought to be leaving for school soon, and Kaiba could have the bed to himself all day. He hated himself for wanting to avoid his brother. All he wanted was to fix things so that he and Mokuba could be happy together, and all he was doing was making it harder and harder to face him.

Wearily, he left his laboratory and headed to his room. He just couldn’t think about it now.

He ran into Mokuba coming out of the bedroom.

The brothers stood in the hallway, staring at each other uncomfortably. “Mokuba.”

“Big Brother. You didn’t come to bed last night.”

“I was working late,” Kaiba said. He pulled his duster closed to hide the stain on the front of his trousers. “I fell asleep in the laboratory.”

Kaiba knew his little brother as well as he knew himself. He could see the question form in Mokuba’s mind, see him begin to ask Are you all right? and then stop, knowing he’d get no answer. He wanted to reassure him, to say, I’m all right, everything will be all right, but he couldn’t speak either. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t be a lie. Kaiba had never hated himself as much as he did in that moment. “Mokuba….”

Mokuba looked up at him searchingly. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” Kaiba said automatically, cursing himself inwardly. He tried to smile. “I’m going to go to bed now. You go on to school.”

Mokuba nodded, but made no move to go. “Did you call Yugi?”

Kaiba suppressed a surge of irritation. Damn it, forget about Yugi, he wanted to say. It’s nothing to do with him. But Mokuba was only trying to help, in the only way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know what the real problem was.

And this was one thing he could do for Mokuba. “I’ll call him right now. I promise.”

Mokuba nodded. A promise was a promise, and nothing else needed to be said. He threw his arms around his big brother’s waist and held him tight. Kaiba gripped Mokuba’s shoulders and swallowed, blinking away the sudden blurring in his eyes. Then Mokuba stepped back, smiled, and went on his way to school.

Kaiba leaned back against the wall, rubbing his eyes. All right. Mokuba was appeased, temporarily, but now he had to call Yugi. He sighed, but did not even consider backing out of his promise. He had no idea what he’d say to Yugi, but for Mokuba’s sake, he would think of something.

Stopping only to get a glass of water for his dry throat, he went into the bedroom and sat on the bed while he reluctantly tapped out Yugi’s number on his cell phone.


“Yugi….” He still didn’t know what to say.

“Kaiba? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me. I….”

“How are you? I haven’t seen you since….” Yugi sounded cheerful, if confused.

Kaiba took a deep breath and forced the words out. “I would like it if you would come to see me this afternoon.”

“Oh!—Okay, I can come after school. Around four?” Thank the gods, Yugi didn’t hesitate, or ask why.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Okay, see you later!” Yugi rang off, and Kaiba switched off his cell phone and fell back on the bed.

He didn’t want Yugi here. He didn’t want to talk to him.

He wanted Mokuba.

* * *

Kaiba slept, and if his dreams were troubled, they were deep enough in his mind that he didn’t remember them. He woke up in time to take a long, hot shower and dress in fresh clothes, and sit for a while sipping hot tea in a quiet room overlooking a garden before Yugi arrived at four. They spent some time in stiff formalities, exchanging comments about the weather and inquiries into the health of each other’s families, before lapsing into heavy silence on either end of a low couch.

“Kaiba?” Yugi finally ventured. “I’m glad you asked me to come. You know I’ve always wanted us to be friends.”

Kaiba resisted the urge to snap, We’re not friends. His hand tightened around his teacup. Yugi was here at his request. He must try to be civil. “That’s not why…,” he began. But what was he supposed to say? He wasn’t going to tell Yugi why he’d really asked him to come.

Yugi looked at him wide-eyed. Hard to believe they were the same age—Yugi looked like such a child. His feet barely reached the floor, even on this low couch. But when he dueled…. “Oh? Then why did you ask me? You know, whatever it is, I’ll try to help, but….”

Kaiba sighed inwardly. Well, he’d better say something. “Mokuba….”

“Is Mokuba all right?”

“Yes, he’s all right. Well, he’s worried. He thinks… he thinks I’m still upset about the tournament.”

“Are you?”

The question hung in the air. “No. I’m not.” He had no compunction about lying to Yugi.

Of course, Yugi was no fool. “I see. But Mokuba’s worried about you, so you must be upset about something. Something you think I can help you with?”

It’s not your concern, he wanted to say. Just go home and leave me alone. But he’d asked Yugi to come. He couldn’t very well hide behind his pride now. And he owed it to Mokuba to at least make some attempt to have a real conversation. “I have these dreams,” he began. He turned the teacup around and around in his hands. “About the tournament. About… the duel. I’m walking across the arena, and, it’s huge.” The words seemed to gather of their own volition, and force themselves out of his mouth. “It takes forever to get across, and I can hear them, everyone—your friends, cheering, and Mokuba….” He drew a ragged breath. “I give you the God card. You’re…,” taller than me, he wanted to say, but the heat in his throat choked back the words. “You take it. I…,” want the earth to swallow me up. “I can’t stand up. The Blue Eyes is angry.” He was clutching his teacup so tightly his hands hurt. “He attacks me.” He pulled his duster across his lap to hide his growing erection. “It hurts, but I….” I deserve it. I want it. I come with his cock in my ass. “I wake up, and I, I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’ll hurt Mokuba by mistake.”

Yugi put his teacup down and moved to sit closer to Kaiba. “I’m sorry, Kaiba. I’m sorry it hurts you so much to lose. It was a good duel. You fought hard and played honorably. I can’t believe your Blue Eyes would be angry with you for that.”

“I lost.”

“You’re the best duelist I’ve ever played. Nobody wins all the time.”

“You do.”

Yugi looked up at him with his huge violet eyes. “So there’s one player in the world who’s better than you. You shouldn’t take it so hard. You have so much, Kaiba, and you just can’t see it. All the times your Blue Eyes won for you, and all you can think about is the one time you lost. Maybe that’s why your Blue Eyes is angry with you.”

“Nonsense.” Kaiba didn’t believe a word of it. But he had to admit, he felt the tiniest bit better for it anyway.

Yugi seemed to think he’d scored a victory, too, because he smiled happily and let Kaiba’s last word stand, and the moment stretched out for a nice long time before Yugi turned thoughtful again, and said, a little timidly,

“Kaiba… you and Mokuba… that is, do you sleep in the same bed?”

Kaiba felt his face heat, and his fists tighten in anger, and again he had to suppress his first impulse, which was to hiss, That’s none of your business. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you said you were afraid of hurting Mokuba in your sleep….”

Oh god. Yes, he had said it, and he hadn’t even noticed. “We… since what happened with Noah… it’s complicated.”

“Okay. It’s okay. But when you say you’re afraid of hurting him—I know how much you love Mokuba. Do you really think you might do something bad to him?”

I already have. But there was no way, no way in hell, he was going to tell Yugi that he was hot for his little brother. That the memory of that one stolen kiss—not even a long night of debauchery in the game could dull the slightest aspect of that wonderful and terrible moment. “It’s complicated,” he repeated stubbornly. But the game… he thought about Yugi’s Dark Magician teasing him, playing with him, taking him down. He still wondered how the programs had interacted to give the Dark Magician such an inventively sadistic attack. “Have you ever thought about what your monsters would be like if you could meet them outside the dueling arena? If you could talk with them, spend time with them… have sex with them?”

“Kaiba!” Yugi’s violet eyes (not the same violet as the Dark Magician’s, darker and deeper, like amethysts) widened impossibly. Then his face turned bright red and he giggled like a little boy. “No, but I will now! Why do you say such a thing?”

Kaiba was relieved by Yugi’s reaction—no horror or disgust, just embarrassed giggles. Well, he supposed that, with a best friend like that gutter dog Joey Wheeler, Yugi must be used to hearing such things. Kaiba allowed himself to relax a little. At least he’d changed the subject. “I made a game combining the Legendary Heroes with a sex game I found online. I added sexual functionality to some of the monsters’ behaviors. It had some interesting results.”

“Kaiba, did you, you know, with the Blue Eyes White Dragon?”

“I—well, I—not exactly. I created a Special Attack Dragon—not quite the Blue Eyes—but I haven’t….”

“‘Special Attack’?”

“Yes, that’s what I call the monsters with the added behaviors.”

“It’s just—’Attack.’ Sounds a little violent. Why not, I don’t know, ‘Special Love Monsters’?”

Kaiba froze. His chest tightened until he could barely breathe. Once again, he’d said too much. “Well, the game, you see—it’s how you play—”

“Wait a minute. Kaiba, when you said the Blue Eyes attacked you in your dream, did you mean… ?”

Kaiba shrunk in on himself, unable to answer. Dear god, how did Yugi connect these things? It was like being stripped naked, bit by bit, just as Yugi’s Dark Magician had done to him last night.

But Yugi wasn’t finished putting all the pieces together. “And when you said you were afraid of hurting Mokuba… ?”

Kaiba pushed himself to his feet, facing away from Yugi, fists clenched. “Thank you for coming by, Yugi. I think….”

He felt Yugi’s small hand take his arm. Small and gentle, so like Mokuba…. “Kaiba. Have you talked to Mokuba about this?”

“No! Of course not. How could I?”

“He’s your brother and he loves you. He’d help you if he knew what was bothering you.”

Kaiba wanted desperately to run from the room. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to break free of Yugi’s hand. Small and gentle. Not the iron grip of the Dark Magician that made him want to fight. Just a light touch. It would be so easy to shake him off. But he couldn’t. “He’d hate me.”

“No, he wouldn’t. Kaiba—”

I hate me! How could I want to do this to my little brother? It’s filthy! Unforgivable!”

“Kaiba.” Yugi got up and stood beside him. His voice was different now; stronger and more measured. And the touch of his hand, while still light, was steadier. It was the other Yugi talking to him now. The one that dueled. “What did you expect? You’ve cut yourself off from everyone else. Mokuba is everything to you—family, friend, partner. Now that you’re old enough to want a lover, who else will you turn to? You can try to satisfy yourself with simulations and dreams, but it will never be enough. You need other people in your life.”

“You’re wrong.” It sounded hollow, even to him. It was a lie, it was all a lie. That he could take care of his brother. That he didn’t need anyone else. All a lie, and he couldn’t bear it. By loving only his brother, he’d betrayed him.

Kaiba sat down heavily. He felt the pain welling up inside him, and sat perfectly still, steeling himself against it. If he spoke, if he moved, if he even breathed, he knew it would be all over, he would break down right here, in front of Yugi, and he couldn’t let that happen. Seto Kaiba didn’t cry. Not ever. Not for anything.

Yugi had sat down with him, still holding his arm, and gently stroking the back of his hand. Kaiba was done for, and he knew it, no matter how hard he tried to hold on. He could feel the hot tears filling his eyes, and start to spill over onto his cheeks. He could feel the burn in the back of his throat. He could feel the painful ache in his chest. And, finally, his lungs demanded air, and he took a small, sobbing breath, that turned to repeated gasps, and finally to horrible, unstoppable sobs. He covered his face in his hands and fought it, every gasp, every tear, but he couldn’t hold it back.

Yugi rubbed Kaiba’s shaking shoulders and told him it was okay. And even though it wasn’t, gradually his sobs eased, until he was able to choke them back, and he slumped back on the couch, sniffling and wiping his eyes on his sleeve, and thinking that if he was going to keep on like this, he would have to start carrying a handkerchief.

Leave it to Yugi to have a handkerchief and offer it to him. This time, Kaiba didn’t have to try very hard to bite back the bleeding heart fool retort that came to his mind as he took it and blew his nose. He wondered how long he would have to let Yugi stay before he could decently ask him to go home. Although, there was something strangely comfortable about having Yugi there, sitting quietly at his side. And there was no place he had to be. He was still too exhausted, too confused and unhappy, to work. Nor was he ready to face Mokuba, or to think about what to do now. He might as well stay here with Yugi.

After a while, Yugi stirred. “So, Kaiba, I was wondering… about that game you made? The Special Attack Monsters?” Yugi was blushing again. “Is the Dark Magician one of them?”

Kaiba managed a faint smile. “Do you want to try it out?”

Yugi giggled. “No, no, I don’t think so. But… have you?”

Kaiba sighed. The memory of that experience was still raw, too. “It wasn’t what I expected. Your Dark Magician—he’s not… predictable. There were some behaviors….”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

And how to answer that? “He did what he was programmed to do. I just didn’t understand the program as well as I should have before I activated it.”

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t just a general expression of sympany—Yugi really seemed to feel responsible for his monster’s actions.

Kaiba felt his face heat. “There’s nothing for you to feel sorry about. I programmed him myself.”

Yugi nodded. “But he’s my monster. I don’t like to think of him hurting anyone that way.”

“So how would you have programmed him?”

“Oh….” Yugi giggled again, and turned quite red. Kaiba found that he rather enjoyed making Yugi blush. He was still bemused to think that Yugi was sixteen. He seemed so young and innocent. Barely older than Mokuba, in fact. “Well, he’d be nice. He’d be… soft to touch….”

“Not electric?”


“That’s how mine felt. Whenever you touched him, you’d feel a slight electric buzz. It didn’t hurt, it was—interesting. It was one of the things, I wasn’t sure how it got into his programming. I thought it was his magic.”

Yugi thought about it for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t make mine electric. Not on purpose. But maybe he’d turn out that way on his own, like yours did. Mine would feel like silk and velvet. He’d smell like spring. Like cherry blossoms. And his voice would be clear and pure, like temple bells.”

“He sounds sweet.” Kaiba let an edge of derision creep into his voice.

“He’d be powerful, too. He could sweep you away.”

“That sounds more like it.” Kaiba touched the dog collar that Yugi always wore around his neck. A dash of spice in an otherwise vanilla boy. “A tough guy.”

“Mm,” Yugi agreed. There was something a bit sultry in his smile now, an inviting gleam in his eye. The other Yugi, the dueling Yugi, was coming out to play. “He’s strong. But he doesn’t flaunt it. He’s commanding, but not cruel. He has a sense of humor.” Yugi waggled a forefinger at him in warning: exactly the way the Dark Magician had. A strange thrill went through him, and Kaiba found his breath quickening. Yugi continued, “But he won’t let you get away with anything.”

“Maybe you should help me reprogram him.” There was a slight catch in Kaiba’s voice.

“Maybe you should try a real boy next time.”

A real boy. Like the one sitting in front of him? Maybe it wasn’t an invitation, but….

Kaiba pulled Yugi into his arms and kissed him. Hard. One hand tight around Yugi’s back, one tangled in that ridiculous hair, tongue and teeth clashing, noses mashed into each other. Yugi made a little “oof” sound, then his small, blunt fingers gripped Kaiba’s shoulders, a knee dug into his thigh, shirt buttons caught on each other, a heart pounded against his chest.

Kaiba was surprised by the fire that shot through him—after all, this was Yugi, not the Blue Eyes White Dragon, not even Dark Magician. But Yugi was warm and squirmy and he tasted good and his hair was soft (like silk and velvet) and he was just the right size (Mokuba-size) and, best of all, he was giggling and blushing and having fun, so for once there didn’t seem to be any reason to feel guilty about what he was doing.

He pushed and turned and groped until he had Yugi flat on the couch and was lying on top of him, his hand up Yugi’s shirt, mouth open on Yugi’s mouth, tongue working, hips working, sweat dripping down his neck. Then Yugi got a hand on Kaiba’s crotch, and rubbed Kaiba’s erection with his palm, and it was too much. Kaiba shot into his pants, into Yugi’s hand, with a sudden, satisfying burst.

He collapsed onto Yugi, gasping, caught his breath for a moment, then, thinking he ought to return the favor, reached down to Yugi’s waistband. But the front of Yugi’s trousers was already wet, and Yugi grinned up at him sheepishly, so Kaiba chuckled and pulled them both up until they were sitting in a warm tangle, Yugi’s head on his shoulder and arms around his chest.

“Okay,” Kaiba said. “That was… not bad.”

Yugi just laughed. Then, after a while, he sighed. “I’ve got to get home. Hope I can get past Grandpa to change my clothes.”

Kaiba was going to have to change his clothes again, too. Twice in one day. “You can borrow something to wear home. Mokuba’s clothes ought to fit you.”

“No, that’s okay. I think my jacket will cover it. Thanks, though.”

“Mm.” He didn’t really want to let Yugi go just yet, but Yugi squirmed out of his grasp and off the couch.

“I’m glad you called me,” Yugi said, buttoning his shirt. “I hope this means we’re friends now.”

Kaiba pulled his duster across his lap. “I suppose it does.”

Yugi tucked in his shirt, and fastened his jacket. The tails covered the wet spot on his trousers pretty well, and the dark blue fabric barely showed it anyway. Yugi nodded. “Well. I’d better go.” He put a hand on Kaiba’s shoulder and leaned down to kiss him. “Call me any time if you want to talk. Or, you know….” He blushed prettily. “Well, see you later.”

Kaiba smiled a little as he watched Yugi go.

* * *

Mokuba had been waiting to pounce as soon as Yugi left. “So, Big Brother….” His eyes were bright with curiosity and concern.

“We talked. It… helped. You’re very smart, little brother. It was good that you made me call him.”

Mokuba’s face shone with pleasure. “I’m glad. Are you… ?”

The question hung in the air. Are you all right? Kaiba did his best to answer it. “Mokuba. You know things have been bad for me. And they’re still not right.” He slid down from the couch to his knees, and took his brother’s hands. “I’m a little better now. And I’ll get better still. But it’s going to be hard. And… I’ll need your help. You know how hard that is for me.”

Mokuba threw his arms around his brother’s neck. “I’ll help you. I’ll do anything.”

Kaiba sat back, pulling Mokuba into his arms, and it was wonderful to hold his little brother close. Then he sighed. “Mokuba….” It had to be done. He was too old to be sleeping with his little brother. “Mokuba, how would you feel about going back to sleep in your own room?”

Mokuba pulled back to look in Kaiba’s face, frowning with concern. “Why?”

“I, I’m getting older. I have these feelings now. Dreams. Sometimes, when a guy gets to be my age, he needs some privacy. Especially at night.” Kaiba felt his face burn. He wondered if a word of this was making any sense.

Mokuba regarded him gravely. “You mean sex.”

“Yeah.” Smart kid.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Big Brother?”

“No. No, nothing like that. But I….”

“It’s okay.” Mokuba nodded. Perhaps he was remembering that kiss. Perhaps he was, indeed, a lot smarter than Kaiba gave him credit for. “I’ll miss you, though.”

“Yeah.” Kaiba gave his brother a crushing hug. “Me too.”

* * *

He did miss him. Kaiba’s bed seemed huge and cold and empty without his little brother, and he tossed and turned, wide awake, until finally he got up, slipped into his robe, and went down to his private laboratory.

Where he sat in front of his computer screen, and called up his game, the Special Attack monsters ready to modify, adjust, or activate.

He thought about the Princess character, small and sweet and willing.

He thought about the Dark Magician, powerful and electric and unpredictable.

He thought about the Dark Eyes Silver Dragon, fiery and vengeful.

He thought about Mokuba, sleeping, or perhaps lying awake, upstairs in his own bed, trusting him to make things right.

He thought about Yugi, smiling and blushing and saying, I hope this means we’re friends now, and, You can call me any time.

And What did you expect? You’ve cut yourself off from everyone else…. You can try to satisfy yourself with simulations and dreams, but it will never be enough. You need other people in your life.

He hesitated, hands over the keyboard, for a long, long moment.

He deleted the game.

Then he buried his face in his hands and cried.


{ 1 } Comments

  1. galeaya | July 11, 2017 at 12:35 am | Permalink

    I know it’s been years since you wrote this, and you’re probably not even in the fandom anymore, but I just had to tell you how much I enjoyed this piece. Very well written, and the characterization is just so on point. Thanks so much for sharing this piece with all of us. 😀

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