#usearki

Jounouchi cast a sidelong glance at the other man, still nothing but bones under an expanse of pale skin. A familiar but hitherto forgotten need to mar that perfect canvas hit Jounouchi so swiftly that it left him nauseous. He paused and leaned his weight against a wall, pressing his overheated forehead to the cooler brick. He waited for the sickening urge to go away. Instead, it settled and stuck to his stomach lining like a greasy burger.

"Don't tell me you're about to throw up," sneered Kaiba.

Craning his head sideways, he met Kaiba's gaze. Fuck, there must be something wrong with the bastard. How did his eyes just glow like that? Fucking unnatural. It was like something out of a vampire flick. The sudden image of Kaiba sweeping about in a long black cape had Jounouchi tossing his head back and cackling. Then he remembered the photos of Kaiba attending the Met Gala three years ago in an outfit that screamed "prince of darkness," and the idea lost all its humor.

With disgust written across his sharp features, Kaiba spun on his heel and only tripped once walking away. Jounouchi's attention slid south to his butt. Kaiba's ass may be as flat as a board, but you couldn't tell thanks to his fancy, high-class tailoring. At least that had been the case seven years ago. But Jounouchi highly doubted Kaiba's atrocious eating habits had changed since then. Probably still too much coffee and not enough solid food in the bastard's diet.

For an almost sobering moment, Jounouchi thought about walking away. He didn't need a nicotine fix that badly. He could do the more sensible thing and go back to the bar. Or better yet, go home and maybe jerk off to half-forgotten memories with the smell of Kaiba's cologne still lodged in his nostrils. Fall asleep and forget this unfortunate encounter. It'd be no harm, no foul. In the morning, he could go back to his peaceful Kaiba-free existence.

"Are you coming or what?" snapped the other man, tossing a lethally stunning glare over one shoulder.

Alright. An impatient Kaiba. Bad decisions all around. Better hop to it.

Carefully, Jounouchi peeled himself off the wall and chased after Kaiba. Unsurprisingly, Kaiba avoided the designated smoking areas crowded with Saturday night bar-hoppers. After another block or so, they left behind downtown bars and its revelers, trading the pulsing music and drunken laughter for long shadows and dark offices.

Their destination turned out to be part of some lush, well-groomed corporate plaza. Jounouchi looked up and immediately regretted the move when his head started to spin. Despite his dizzy spell, he still recognized the dark behemoth of a skyscraper looming overhead.

"You made us walk all the way to your office?" he laughed in disbelief.

Kaiba said nothing and dropped onto a bench. Jounouchi watched—covetously and enviously—as Kaiba's long fingers reached in his breast pocket and withdrew a slim silver cigarette case. Kaiba had a smoke lit and pursed between his thin lips before Jounouchi even sat down next to him. Jounouchi didn't reach for his pack right away, choosing to stretch his legs in front of him and his arms overhead.

Their shoulders bumped. Sweat trickled down the length of his neck and dampened his shirt collar.

"I guess it is nice and quiet here," Jounouchi said after another few beats of silence.

"At least until you arrived on the scene."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks. Been there, done that."

After flipping Kaiba off, Jounouchi dug his slightly smashed pack out of his pocket. He needed something to occupy his hands so he wouldn't punch the asshole in his stupidly smug and attractive face. Except he couldn't find his lighter. He supposed he could sit there chewing on his unlit cigarette like an idiot. It wasn't like Kaiba didn't already think he was one.

Out of the corner of his eye, a flame flickered to life. Kaiba held his lit zippo aloft but didn't move it toward Jounouchi. After a moment of internal debate, Jounouchi leaned into Kaiba's space, bangs falling over his eyes as he bent his head to light the cigarette between his teeth. And as he lifted his head, he pursed his lips and blew a faint puff of smoke in Kaiba's direction.

Click, and the fire was doused, plunging Kaiba's face back into shadow.

Jounouchi slouched in the opposite direction, barely catching himself before he tumbled off the bench. His right knee knocked against Kaiba's left one. Kaiba didn't move away, though. Nor did he push Jounouchi away. Inhaling deeply, Jounouchi pressed his kneecap into Kaiba's thigh.

No reaction.

Should he try pushing his luck some more? But Jounouchi had already been down that road years ago. 'Been there, done that,' like Kaiba so eloquently put it. And what had that gotten him? He was older now. Supposedly wiser too. He could make different kinds of bad decisions when the time came.

Then Kaiba looked at him. An electric blue stare that punctured through his better judgment like it was a balloon. Pop! Goodbye, common sense!

Jounouchi transferred his cigarette to one hand and lurched into an upright position. His knees now pressed even more firmly against Kaiba's tense thighs. The other man's lit cherry bobbed in the darkness with each puff—each perfectly poised and executed exhale. It was a will-o-wisp beckoning Jounouchi to his unwise and untimely demise.

Kaiba drew his cigarette away from his sneering lips, flicked the ash from its tip, and asked, "What are you staring at?"

"You," breathed Jounouchi before extinguishing his on the bench's surface.

Kaiba cast another jabbing look of disapproval, and Jounouchi let it roll off him. Kaiba's cigarette was barely more than a stub now. The cherry burned dangerously close to the skin of his long, elegant fingers. But Jounouchi wouldn't have the chance to admire that theoretical burn, to see how the blood pooled under his pale skin and gave it more color than anyone had probably seen in years.

Still, he moved in time with Kaiba, who had stretched away to discard the butt in a nearby ashtray/trash can combo. Jounouchi's lips connected with the corner of Kaiba's. The edges were never as cutting as his snarling and jeering implied. Jounouchi's head swam, once again dazzled by Kaiba's crisp cologne and the musk of sweat underlying it.

Kaiba momentarily froze at the touch. Then, he painstakingly released his extinguished smoke into the trash and turned his head toward Jounouchi again. Rather than deepening the connection, the move dislodged Jounouchi's mouth completely as Kaiba had simultaneously pulled back to stare him dead in the eye.

"Don't half-ass it, Jounouchi."

The challenge sent shockwaves rolling through Jounouchi. Yet his body was already moving before the words had fully sunken into his alcohol-soaked brain. Grasping Kaiba's shoulders in each hand, he shoved the other man back flat along the bench and devoured his mouth. He nipped and licked his way into Kaiba, savoring the taste of smoke and whiskey, while fingers twisted into the back of his shirt, hauling him even closer until he laid on top of Kaiba.

Kaiba's touch scorched his sweat-dampened skin. His fingers seared invisible brands across the back of Jounouchi's neck. His mouth moved frantically against his, sucking on Jounouchi's tongue and plundering his in return.

Yet it wasn't enough. None of it could satiate the howling hunger ripping through his stomach. Like trying to quench thirst with seawater, Jounouchi couldn't drink enough of Kaiba. Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-five—it didn't matter what age, Kaiba would always be the walking and breathing embodiment of bad news and worse choices. And Jounouchi? Well, he was the king of embracing bad ideas.

Without breaking the kiss, Jounouchi muttered, "I want you."

Kaiba pushed him off, and the world spun dangerously. But before Jounouchi could think he'd overstepped his bounds with his confession, Kaiba gripped his shirt again and hauled him to his feet. Sharp blue eyes and straight white teeth were all Jounouchi could make of his expression when he growled, "Then keep up."

Before he knew it, they were inside the building and sprawled across the couch in Kaiba's top-floor office. Jounouchi didn't know when or where he'd lost his pants. Nor did he care when Kaiba inhaled his dick like it was another cigarette. Leaning forward, he focused on Kaiba's long erection, licked up and down the shaft like he would an ice pop. When Kaiba clawed his nails into the meat of his ass, Jounouchi moaned brokenly and swallowed the other man's cock, working feverishly to match the pace that Kaiba was blowing him.

Maybe he would have lasted longer if he hadn't had three beers and a whiskey. Instead, he came down Kaiba's throat with a shout, his entire body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He collapsed and peppered more open-mouthed kisses on Kaiba's rigid arousal. Having Kaiba's dick in his mouth was nice and all, but he'd rather have it inside him. Rather than keep those thoughts to himself, though, he shared them with the other man. Which led to Kaiba's lotion-lathered fingers working his ass open as Jounouchi purred and rocked back against the intrusion in need. Jounouchi put up with the clumsy prep for several minutes before pulling away. He gripped the sofa arm tight and sank onto Kaiba's rigid cock with a breathy moan.

It felt so deliciously hot inside him. Perfect. He wanted to feel the stretch and burn in the morning in counterpoint to his dull, thumping hangover.

"So good," he keened as he started to move, fucking himself and getting drunk on the sensation of being filled again and again.

He couldn't see Kaiba's expression, but he felt his strong grasp bruising his hips and the tremor in his thighs as he drove up to meet Jounouchi's grinding motion. Could burn up in his blazing embrace when he sat up and pushed Jounouchi forward to fuck him on his hands and knees. Jounouchi melted into the couch, his body dangerously pliant under Kaiba's frenzied thrusts and feverishly hot despite the AC. The temperature rose several notches as Kaiba slotted himself against Jounouchi's back, his broad hands running across his sweaty skin to tease more guttural noises from his parched throat.

He was burning alive.