FicWad

In the Arms of the Master

It was nine in the evening, a Saturday, and Yami was hurrying down the stairs. “Grandpa, I’m going to work,” he grabbed his black Tribal messenger bag that rested on the sofa in the living room and went over to the kitchen, where he saw Grandpa cooking the rest of Yuugi’s dinner. The smell of Japanese curry took over Yami’s sense of smell, telling his stomach to growl. But he had already eaten a bowl of soshu ramen in his room (which was the pour hot water and wait three minutes kind of ramen), lightening Grandpa’s load of food to cook. He leaned on the backrest of one of the chairs. “I’ll be back early morning.”

Grandpa turned around and poured the beef curry in a bowl, and set the steaming bowl in front of Yuugi. The boy said a muffled ‘thank you’ and took a piece of beef and potato from the bowl. “Yami, you haven’t told me what this work is. You leave at night, come home in the morning. It’s driving me crazy with worry!” said Grandpa, putting the hot pan in the sink and the thin layer of water on the sink turned into steam when it came in contact with the pan. “I know that you’re making a lot, but isn’t this too dangerous?”

Yami wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. He didn’t know how many times he had already heard that. “Grandpa, if I don’t do this, how will we be able to eat? Besides, my boss is very kind, he won’t let me get hurt even though I have my shifts at night,” said Yami, trying to convince him like every other Saturday he went out at night for work. “I don’t want to quit so that I can help you. Come on, Grandpa, you know the shop hasn’t been making a lot lately,” Yami took the napkin and wiped the curry off Yuugi’s cheek. The boy smiled up at him.

“I know, I know, but I feel so guilty making you work.” Grandpa took off his apron and hung it on a hook by the fridge.

Yami looked up from Yuugi’s level. “You didn’t make me work. I decided this on my own, Grandpa.” Yami gave Yuugi a kiss on his cheek before he left.

“Bye big brother! I love you!” said Yuugi through a full mouth. Grandpa only sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t, rather, he never wanted Yami to work, even if he knew that the shop was not making enough for the three of them.

Yami kept his mind off what Grandpa had just said. It wasn’t Grandpa that made him decide to work. Besides, Grandpa needed all the help he could get. He knew that Grandpa hated seeing him leave at night and come home in the morning. But that was something he couldn’t control. It was what his job required: a night shift.

He put his foot in front of the other, walking as fast as he could to get away from the house. Around five hundred meters from his house, a black car was waiting for him. He knew exactly it was Isono, his employer’s head bodyguard and driver. He ran to the car, feeling the night breeze on his face, and a blue green haired man stepped out. “Good evening, Mutou-san,” he said with a smile, and a slight bow.

“Good evening, Isono-san,” Yami greeted him with a happy and relieved face, and also gave a slight bow. He liked Isono. He was kind, and he didn’t judge Yami about his job with his employer. He was also an understanding person, and he was the one who comforted him after his first time with the master. He kept him safe when their master ordered him to take Yami home. “How long has Seto-sama been waiting?” Yami asked, getting in the front seat of the car, and quickly buckled his seatbelt.

“Not very long, Mutou-san.” Isono started the car, and gently stepped on the gas, making a U-turn. “He has just come home, about thirty minutes ago.” He saw Yami nod in the corner of his eye. He glanced at the boy who was looking out the window, watching all the other teens his age have fun and be with their lovers and friends with regretful eyes. Those eyes were regretful, but they were determined to get his family up and healthy again. “Mutou-san, I hope will not take what I will say offensively,” Yami looked at him. “Do you not think that…”

“That I should be looking for another job, and stop letting the richest man in Japan use me to satiate his sex drive and lust, and get paid a million yen every time he cums?” Yami finished for him, and then looked out the window once again. “You don’t know how much I want to stop doing this,” said Yami, holding back tears that begged to be let out. “I feel so filthy, and used. But it’s what I have to do to pay debts, get my brother to school, and help my grandfather; pay him all back for the misery we’ve brought him. Imagine that, a commoner like me had his virginity taken away by such royalty. A commoner who was pushed to sell his virginity for a million yen. ” (A/N: A million yen, or Y1,000,000 is close to $100,000)

Isono knew Yami was a good boy. The only thing that drove him to do this was poverty, and being orphaned at an early age, and left to be raised by his aging grandfather. Kaiba Seto, their employer, had seen Yami asking for a job in a nearby convenience store, begging for even just someone who mops the floor or one who arranges the goods on the shelves. The billionaire thought he was an unnoticed beauty, being pushed around like it was some wet puppy.

Yami stepped out of the car and entered the mansion, and the maids greeted him kindly, knowing that he was just like every servant present, getting paid to do what they do best. They were paid to clean the house and cook his food, while he was paid to bring pleasure to the master.

“The Master is waiting for you in his chambers, Yami-kun,” one maid told him and took his hand. “We better get you ready for him quickly. Yami-kun knows that The Master does not like to be kept waiting,” she said, and a few other maids led him to a room, where the maids always help him get ready.

The maids brought him his purple, silk kimono robe, and the things he needed to please his master. They sprayed the vanilla scented perfume and lotion their master demanded be on Yami whenever he was in the mansion, in the estate and especially when he was in his presence. White talcum powder was spread across his face and neck to make the pastel colour of skin lighter, fairer.

“Are you ready?” one of the maids asked. Yami who sat on an English style chair, nodded meekly, and took a deep breath.

“Ne, Yami-kun, is it hard to please the Master?” another put what look like a pair of ballet flats on Yami’s feet. They were purple as well, but only worn when Yami was to please the Master.

Yami smiled. “Please don’t think that what I do is fun, or accomplishing. Because it’s humiliating, and degrading.” He said. “I’m not being mean or anything.” He looked at them. “This is the first time I’m telling you since I got here. I’m letting the Master use my body so that I can provide for my family. You’re lucky you’re only here to serve him and clean this magnificent structure of a house. Please excuse me.” He stood up, bowed and left the room.

He felt the same sensation of heaviness as he took one step after another up the white marble stairs. His hand slid up the marble railing, feeling its coldness numb his hand. The journey to the master bedroom felt like an hour’s walk to him, even though it only took him under five minutes to reach it.

He stood before the majestic wooden doors, staring at the elegantly and abstractly posed dragons carved on expensive wood. He had seen it so many times before, but it never failed to amaze him. It also never failed to make him have second thoughts on knocking on it and entering the room of what he believed must be the room of the Japanese emperor.

He raised his fist, about to knock on the door. Yami put his hand down and stepped back. It was like this every time, afraid of the man behind that door. The man that had been providing him with the money he needed to live. The man who had used his body more times that he could count. The man who held him close every time he passed out on him. The man that looked like he cared for him but really didn’t. The man who told him that he was a beauty, and not just some teen hanging out with friends in the nearest park. The man he thought was the most handsome man he’d ever seen.

After standing there for what seemed like an eternity, Yami knocked on the door gently three times, and waited for the soft reply of approval for him to enter the room. He heard that approval, and turned the golden knob slowly. “S-Seto-sama?” he called out softly.

A topless man in blue, cotton pajama bottoms stood in the dim room in the light of the full moon by the Monticello window a few feet from the huge bed. He entered and closed the door gently behind him, not making a noise. He fixed his eyes on the man he called his master, whose pale skin shone under the moonlight; whose radiant face seemed to be just a little bit paler in the moon’s glow. Seto turned his gaze from his huge, green estate to the timid figure standing by the door.

Yami felt like he choked. The icy blue eyes brightened when the moon’s rays went past them. “Good evening, Yami.” He smiled at him.

“G-good evening, Seto-sama,” Yami replied shakily, his hands half closed over each other over in between his kimono covered thighs.

He had always thought that traditional Japanese clothing such as kimonos and yukatas would be so wonderful to wear, even if there was no special occasion, just because. But because he was required to wear a kimono during his night with Seto, kimonos weren’t so great for him anymore. Whenever he saw, even just see a kimono, it made him feel like a slut. A whore. It was what he was, wasn’t he? He could have just looked for another job. Working overtime mopping a convenience store’s floors would have been better.

“Come, Yami,” Seto held out his hand out to him. Seto saw hesitation in Yami’s eyes. He always saw hesitation in the boy’s eyes. Whatever Yami did around him, there were always second thoughts, even in approaching him. The billionaire thought that Yami was just too afraid of him. But he never got angry at his slight indisposition. In fact, it amused him, that someone who was so outgoing (as he had observed when he was in the presence of his friends), could be so shy and diffident around him. He found it cute, charming, adorable.

Yami took the small steps the kimono let him take and made his way past the bed and stood beside Seto under the moonlight. Seto faced him, caressed his face, touching the pinkish white skin with a few fingers, and looked him in the eye. He chuckled when Yami reddened up and moved his eyes to the right corner of his eyes, looking down at the carpet, avoiding Seto’s eyes. “Why is it that you avoid my gaze, Yami?” Seto asked, lifted Yami’s chin so that he’d look at him. “Hmm?” Seto looked into his eyes again.

This time, Yami closed his eyes and turned his head a little to the right, looking down on the carpet once more. “Y-your eyes, Seto-sama...” it was the first time that Seto did this. To just let him stand there, caressing his face.

“My eyes?” Seto repeated, sliding his long, slender fingers down Yami’s half covered neck, and stopping there. He brushed Yami’s blonde bangs behind his ears, and felt heat radiating from the boy’s skin. “What about my eyes, Yami?” he said, watching Yami’s orbs glitter in the light. His eyes were a brilliant mixture of blood red and amethyst purple. The shade of Yami’s eyes amazed him; he never knew such a colour existed. It was as if he was of different descent, not only of Japanese ancestors alone.

‘Why is it that I am always so afraid to answer?’ Yami asked himself, and mustered the courage to look up at the brunette and answer the question. “Your eyes...Seto-sama...are as beautiful and lovely as the sea,” he said, “I fear that I might drown in them,” he knew that Seto’s surname was written with the character for sea. Of all the men that Yami had found so handsome, Kaiba Seto was the only one who took his breath away every time he laid eyes on him.

Seto’s lips turned up in amusement. “How poetic, little Yami,” he ran his fingers up Yami’s jaw line. “I believe I must respond to that lyrical on the spot line of yours, ne?” there was a gentle look in Seto’s eyes. “Your eyes may not be in a dark shade, but anyone who dare look into them may lose their way,”

Yami had felt Seto’s skin against his so many times before, but this time, it was different. There was something that was making his touch now different from his previous touches. This time, it sent a warm sensation through him. In the first time he felt Seto’s hands stroked his skin, it sent a wave of fear in his body. But that wasn’t what he felt now. He felt warm, and safe, even feeling safer than being in his own home.

Without thinking, Yami closed his eyes and held Seto’s hand with both of his, brushed it against his face and lightly pressed his lips on the soft flesh. A few moments later, he realized what he had done, and got down on his knees, begging for forgiveness. “Forgive me, Seto-sama, I did not mean to do it. I was not in the right mind-”

Seto knelt down on one knee and raised Yami’s head. “You have done nothing wrong, little one,” he said, “Now, get up on your feet,” Seto ordered, and stood up. He took the blue robe from that hung from the chair nearby and wore it.

Yami stood up as he was ordered, and watched Seto turn up the lights a bit to a pretty atmosphere. He couldn’t believe that Seto hadn’t touched him they way he should have touched him. Usually, Seto would have had Yami sweating on the bed by now, but he wasn’t. “S-Seto-sama...” Yami moved to follow him.

“Yes?” Seto turned back to him, taking long strides to get back to his side faster. “Is something the matter, Yami?” he asked.

Yami had once again done something unthinkingly. He put his small, silk kimono covered hands on Seto’s broad chest, and looked up at the brunette. “Are you not going to use me for your pleasure?” he asked.

“Why ask such a question, Yami?” said Seto, brushing Yami’s hands from his chest gently away.

“Seto-sama hired me to be his instrument of pleasure, did he not?” said Yami, staring up at Seto still. Seto now was the one who avoided his gaze. He knew something was wrong. He knew there was something about Seto’s touch today that made him feel different.

Seto shook his head. “Not anymore, Yami,”

Yami’s eyes widened, and they started to water. “No,” Yami put his silk covered hands on Seto’s chest. “Please do not throw me away. Seto-sama, please do not throw me away!” he begged, his tears streaming down his face, the salty water glistening in the soft lighting. Yami knew he was only a toy; hence he did not use the term ‘fire.’ He didn’t want to be thrown away. Yami needed him. Not for himself, but for his family. He let his forehead touch Seto’s chest. “Please...do not throw me away...”

Crying. His beautiful, beautiful Yami was crying. And he made him cry. Seto bent over a little, and pulled Yami into an embrace like he never did before. One of his large hands held Yami’s head, and pulled him close to his shoulder, and the other pulled Yami’s body closer to his. “No, no,” he whispered, “I will never throw you away...”

Yami had stopped emitting sounds of sobs because of the sudden unexpected move, but still the tears continued to come, and they were being absorbed by Seto’s robe. Yami felt like an infant in his father’s arms in his position. His arms were bent, hands on his chest, his body so near to his master’s and his head on his chest. “Seto-sama...” he closed his eyes, and gave into the embrace. “Please...take care of me...” (1)

Seto inhaled the sweet scent of vanilla from Yami’s neck, letting it invade his nose. Yami smelled like a lot of things. Like the smell of French coffee in the morning, like Belgian white chocolate, like small cupcakes, or sweetened milk. He smelled like a child who’d eaten a whole load of sweets, or a baby that has just finished his bottle.

Yami on the other hand, was inhaling Seto’s manly scent of perfume that must have cost millions of yen. He didn’t know how to describe it, only that he thought maybe this was what those male models in the catwalk must smell like, or the ones who pose for magazines. This was the scent of the man he had looked up to and admired so much.

“Of course...” Seto closed his eyes. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” He lifted Yami’s legs and carried him to the bed in a bridal manner, and set him gently on the bed. “I’ll take very good care of you,” Seto moved to get on fours on top of Yami, and loomed over him. “What will you do, if I disown you, Yami?” he asked slowly, his fingers trailing down from Yami’s forehead to his neck.

Tears once again began to river down his cheeks, and he moved his sweet, sugary vanilla scented hands up to Seto’s chest. “Please...please don’t...! Please don’t throw this toy away! Please!” Yami told himself to beg, beg until Seto stopped saying these things, and to beg him not to fire him. “I’ll do better! I’ll do better in pleasing you! Just...please...”

Seto pressed his lips against Yami’s forehead, one of his hands on Yami’s wet cheeks. “I bought your body, Yami, and forever will it be mine,” he whispered, “Will you let me have your heart? Not with the use of money, but the use of me, my thoughts and my feelings alone,” even though Seto knew the relationship would be illegal, he went on with it. He had to have Yami’s heart. He couldn’t let go of him. He was double his age; Yami was only 16.

Was he hearing things? Did the lack of food these days cause his brain to create hallucinations such as these? How Yami had yearned to hear those words. He was hearing it now, but was it true? Was this inhumanly handsome, gorgeous, beautiful creature above him, they merely called a man asking for his heart? “S-Seto-sama?” he stuttered, to try and get his master to repeat what he had just said.

“Will you, Yami? Give me your heart?” Seto did repeat it, and looked into the mystifying crimson-purple eyes. “In return I shall give you my heart with no second thoughts, no regret.” Yami looked back into Seto’s drowning eyes. “For now, I declare your body not of my possession but yours,”

Yami couldn’t believe that he was hearing. He smiled through the tears. “Yes...yes...I will give you my heart, and my body...”

Seto pulled Yami into another one of his most sincere embraces. “I shall provide you with everything you will ever desire and need, a home for your family, employment for your grandfather, an international school for you and your brother-”

“That is too much-”

“Nothing is too much for you, my sweet, my love,” Seto cupped his face, and kissed the boy with a passion he’d never thought he had. He had never kissed Yami before, and now he knew that he had soft, supple, mint tasting lips. Seto smiled at him when he pulled away. “You put on lip balm, child?”

Yami blushed a deep red. “Y-yes, Seto-sam-”

Seto put a finger on his lips silencing him. “You shall never address me as your master for the remainder of your life, Yami, do you understand?” Yami nodded. “Say my name, only my name, I want to hear my name escape your luscious lips,” he ran his finger below Yami’s lower lip.

Nobody had ever praised him like Seto had. Seto always saw something about him to describe so verbosely. Yami parted his lips, and said one of the loveliest names he had ever heard. “Seto,”

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,”

‘At last, the person I have longed for, is finally mine,’ both thought at the same time, just looking into each other’s eyes, and admiring each other’s features.
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(1) In mangas, when one hires another for pleasure, the one who is hired says, ‘Please take care of me.’