Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Blue Eyes ❯ Day Two: Confuse Me ( Chapter 7 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: kiokukaiba 
Jou and Seto can't seem to figure out what to think of each other. There are heavy emotions in the air, but of what kind?
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 07.02.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 4.1K | Visits: 629 | Status: Work In Progress
Jou and Seto can't seem to figure out what to think of each other. There are heavy emotions in the air, but of what kind?
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 07.02.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 4.1K | Visits: 629 | Status: Work In Progress
Behind Blue Eyes
- - -
Our lips pressed together, or mine pressed against his, gently. Seto didn’t slap me or shove me away this time. Instead, I put my hands on his shoulders to hold him up as I began to feel him fall against me. . . something wasn’t right. Reluctantly, I pulled away, my lips already missing Seto Kaiba’s sweet warmth.
“Don’t stop. . . don’t. . . don’t go away. . .”
I knew it! He had gone into that weird phase again!
“Saki. . .”
Alright, that was it! I laid him across the couch as carefully as I could, his clouded eyes staring off into nothingness as I did so. With soft steps, I was able to make my way down the hallway without disturbing my brunette as he faded off into. . . sleep? There was just no telling with him anymore.
Shaking the beautiful image away, I braved one of the most foul places in all of Domino. . . my father’s bedroom.
The smell that seemed to pour out into the apartment as I opened the door was a terrible one, the same mess remaining just as I had seen it on Friday.
The computer was in my father’s room, which would be why I rarely used it, well, that and the fact that it was a cheap piece of shit that was about six years old, if not older. The machine itself was slow and faulty, and putting that together with the horrible dial-up internet connection that we had didn’t make for a very efficient combination.
Normally, the speed, or lack thereof, of our computer would keep me from using it; however, my curiosity was stronger than my frustration at the moment. I had to know about his illness. . . more about him.
Being that I didn’t have my notebook at hand, I tried my best to remember the name of his disorder, and spelled it as best as I could. Hey, academics aren’t exactly my strong point.
Using the internet miracle that was “Google”, I did a web search for ‘Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder’, immediately being greeted by a ridiculously long list of various websites, most of which were official medical sites. . . this was going to be fun. . . no really, it would! I was highly interested in this!
Okay, so you’re probably thinking, “What the fuck is up with the random internet search?” Well, I figure that his weird-ass moments have something to do with his illness. . . but wouldn’t he have medicine for that? Wouldn’t that keep the symptoms, whatever they may be, from appearing? Are they new medicines that haven’t begun to affect him yet? I made a mental note to ask him about that.
Anyways, you’re probably also wondering about my reactions to him calling me Saki, I mean, he’s done that a few times now, but the other times, they were bad situations that lead me to believe Saki had raped Seto. . . and yet, this time. . . this time I had only given him a little kiss, and he didn’t want me to leave him. . . it was like he had affection for Saki. . . he loved Saki?
“Sometimes when you love someone, it doesn’t matter what they do. . .”
It doesn’t matter what they do. At the time he had said that, I assumed that somehow he was talking about Saki. . . but that would mean. . . Oh my God. . . did he really love Saki?
“So you’ve never had a best friend?”
“I did, but that was a very long time ago. We stopped speaking when I had just turned 16. . . His name was Saki.” A sad smile played on his lips for a fraction of a second, before falling into a frown, “That’s all you need to know.”
His best friend was Saki. But I’ve already determined that Saki was more of a boyfriend to him. . . stopped talking when Seto was sixteen, eh? But that really doesn’t make sense. If Seto was best friends and boyfriends with Saki, then why would Seto be so sad about it? Did Saki really rape Seto, or was I just assuming things?
“Why aren’t you friends anymore?”
“Because he couldn’t see the difference between lust and love.”
Lust and love. . . there was no longer any doubt in my mind about the rape, but it still didn’t make sense. If they were a couple, wouldn’t they have made love anyways? Why would Saki have to rape Seto? Was Seto that conservative about his virginity? He just didn’t seem like the type. . . so Seto must have called off their relationship, right?
Ugh, so many questions!
The computer screen still displayed the websites, and so I decided to just click the very first link on the list.
(AN: The website listen below is an actual one. I truly went here and did the research. So you can bet your life that this information is completely accurate. . . just like the medicines and dosages were. I’m just glad that I don’t have dial-up like Jou has. . . cable all the way! I like facts, not made up bullshit. Enjoy it, and try to learn a thing or two!)
The National Center for PTSD. . . uh, sounded official to me. The website looked to be mainly about war veterans at first, and so I almost returned to my search list. . . however, as my eyes scanned over the links, I decided against it, believing that perhaps there was a bit of valuable information here after all.
I clicked on ‘What is PTSD?’ the moment I saw it. Wow, they practically made this website for me! I was just thankful that my computer wasn’t as slow as usual. An enormous about of text appeared on my screen, and I groaned loudly at the thought of having to read extensive passages over the weekend. . . but this was going to be worth it in the end, I just knew it!
Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, is a psychiatric disorder that can occur following the experience or witnessing of life-threatening events such as military combat, natural disasters, terrorist incidents, serious accidents, or violent personal assaults like rape. . .
Rape. . . that must have been what caused it. . . and judging from the small bit of what he said about his step father, violent assaults was likely another cause. There was just no way I could have remembered this, and so I stepped out of the room, creeping down the hallway to my bedroom, where my notebook lay neglected on the floor from when I had been reading the project packet aloud to Seto.
Retrieving it at a rather quick pace, I hurriedly scampered back to my father’s room, checking on the sleeping beauty before shutting the door with a soft ‘click’.
Seating myself once more, my eyes studied the screen for that paragraph from earlier and I jotted down the gist of it, my eyes scanning for even more useful information.
People who suffer from PTSD often relive the experience through nightmares and flashbacks, have difficulty sleeping, and feel detached or estranged, and these symptoms can be severe enough and last long enough to significantly impair the person's daily life.
Woah. . . they were practically talking about Seto. The nightmares, the flashbacks. . . feeling detached. . . that was absolutely him! He was the poster boy for PTSD! I jotted it down, and continued my investigation.
The traumatic events most often associated with PTSD for men are rape, combat exposure, childhood neglect, and childhood physical abuse.
Again, very important, and such events could become a part of my questionnaire for Seto. The website went on to describe what types of people were likely to develop the disorder, and most of the descriptions fit the elder Kaiba. . . however a lot of the paragraphs stated that people with PTSD tended to drink heavily. . . but Seto didn’t seem to-
“I’ve been to enough bars in my lifetime to know what an alcoholics home would smell like.”
Heh, well, just because he has gone to a lot of bars, doesn’t mean he’s an alcoholic. . . I mean, he certainly doesn’t act like one! I’d have to ask him about that as well. . . out of curiosity, I went to the link about sexual abuse towards children. He said that he was adopted when he was twelve right? Well, he didn’t leave Saki until he was sixteen, so he could have been raped at a young age, and more than once. . . I didn’t really know much about that. . . so perhaps the page would hold some interesting information for me. . . which it certainly did.
Sometimes children may try to injure themselves or attempt suicide.
Bingo. That was enough information for the time being.
I jumped a bit as a knock came across my fathers’ door. I was shutting the computer down at the time.
“Jounouchi?” Seto’s adorable, groggy voice leaked through the cheap plywood, “Are you in there?” I could just picture him leaning with his ear against the door, eyes squinting in concentration. . . it brought a smile to my lips.
“Yeah.” That’s when I remembered that I hadn’t locked the door.
The knob turned and the hinges screeched miserably as he inched it open. I nearly knocked my chair over as I leapt from my place and slammed against the door, forcing it shut. . . Seto was probably pissed.
“What the fuck?!”
Yup, pissed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“You don’t need to be in here!”
“You can’t hid shit, you asshole! We had an agreement!” He was leaning on the other side of the door now. It came as no surprise that I was heavier than him and could therefore keep him out, but. . . he was right. I had told him to keep no secrets, and he had already revealed so much of his personal life to me. . .
I stepped to the side and he barely kept his balance as the door flew open so suddenly.
I thought that he was going to glare at me, but he gazed around the room instead. . . and cocked an eyebrow at me.
“This is the big secret that you were hiding?” He laughed slightly, making me feel stupid, and reached to the floor. When he stood at his full height once more, he held his arm stretched out towards my face, some mystery-slut’s bra clamped between his middle finger and thumb. “I kind of already guessed that your father was a pig.” He tossed the offensive clothing onto my fathers’ disarray bed.
“I just. . . it’s embarrassing.” I couldn’t believe that I had just admitted that!
“Why?”
“What?” I was quite confused by the question, which seemed to me to be a stupid one to ask.
“Why is it embarrassing? It’s not you’re fault he’s a slob.” He shrugged. “Oh yeah, did I fall asleep during our conversation?” He combed his left hand through his hair. . . mesmerizing me for a moment.
The memory of the kiss was gone. . . or was he just pretending that it never happened? No, Seto Kaiba wouldn’t do that. . . but what about earlier, when I almost. . . you know. . . It was like he was aware that it happened, but he wasn’t quite processing the event. . . does that make any sense at all?
“Yeah, something like that.” I’d let that go, no use in reminding him and getting bitched out. I glanced down at the piece-of-shit computer and recalled the list of questions that I wanted to ask him. “Can we do a little bit more work on our project?” He gave me a funny look. “What?”
“You asking to do schoolwork is strange.” He looked down at his pajamas, “Can I get dressed first though? It’s after noon already.”
“I wish you’d get undressed.” Oops. . .
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” I think I had begun to sweat.
He looked me up and down for a moment before turning to go down the hallway.
He was still acting so strangely; something was definitely wrong. He’d been acting different ever since he arrived at my place on Saturday. . . no, he had been rather fidgety and odd during school on Friday, even when I wasn’t harassing him.
I slipped down towards my bedroom, making a mental note to investigate his strangeness later.
Seto was kneeling on the floor, trying to make the difficult decision of what to wear for the remainder of the day. He had apparently packed his clothes by outfits, seeing as there was now a wide variety of drop-dead-gorgeous outfits surrounding my blue-eyed beauty. . . that’s right, MINE.
“Just pick one, rich-boy.”
He shot a glare at me and then glanced back at his choices for attire, “I like them all though. . . which one do you like the most?”
I almost checked my pulse to make sure that my heart hadn’t stopped. . . since when did my opinion matter to him? “What?”
“I’m indecisive and need your opinion. Give me an answer now and feel honored later.”
“Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to say what most other guys would say?”
Again he turned and looked at me, this time cocking a thin brown eyebrow, “I think I’d rather hear what most other guys would say.”
“Well. . . the tightest, most revealing outfit to show off your ass, legs, and chest.” It was difficult to keep from laughing at the stunned face that he made.
“Dare I as for your honest opinion?”
“I don’t know, do you?”
“I do.” He pursed his lips. I guess I was annoying him.
“Well then, close your eyes and spin around and wear whatever you stop at.” (AN: Isn’t that something Jou would say?)
“Umm, why?”
“Because it really doesn’t matter what you wear; you look good in everything.”
He stared at me for a long while before turning away. An awkward silence had come between us like a heavy fog, making me fidget. With a bit of care not to look completely ungraceful, I kneeled next to him, “If you want a more straight (ignore the pun) answer, try to blue, collared dress-shirt with the black, leather pants.”
With a strange speed, Seto snatched said outfit from the floor, a mysterious light gleaming in his beautiful, azure eyes, “Alright then, blue and black it is.”
“It was there that I realized that every pair of pants was the same; shiny, black leather. . . he did look very good in it after all. Most guys can’t get away with leather pants without looking like a flaming homosexual, but Seto just looked fucking sexy.
“You like leather, huh?” I had trudged over to my bed, bouncing lightly as I took a seat upon it.
“Well, I don’t exactly look right in blue jeans, and you saw those awful green pants that I had dared to wear during Duelist Kingdom.”
“The flares?”
“Ugh, spare me of the flashbacks. I only wore them because I figured they’d be easier to move around in.” He stood after shoving the remaining outfits back into his case, “Well, I’m going to go change.”
“Would it kill you to change in front of me?” Whoops. . . that was just a bit too forward.
“I don’t change in front of perverts.”
“I’m not a pervert!” He glared at me. “Seriously, I just figured it wouldn’t bother you.” I hopped from my bed and slung open my chest of drawers, retrieving a forest green t-shirt and some khaki slacks and then proceeded to strip down until I was in my plaid boxers only, “See? What’s so difficult about that?”
Seto was absolutely adorable with his wide eyes and bright pink cheeks.
“Uh, y-yeah. . . I’m just going to go and-”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Jounouchi, I’m not going to-”
“If you won’t, I will.”
“What?”
“If you don’t take your clothes off, I’ll simply peel them away myself.” I grinned at him and suddenly felt very much like a predator. . . and it felt strangely wonderful.
Without much warning other than a brief growl, he chucked the outfit at me, “You son of a fucking bitch!”
“What the hell?!”
“What the fuck is up with you?! Ever since I fucking got here, you’ve been trying to get in my fucking pants!” His sapphire eyes burned into me.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I could feel a nervous sweat beginning to form just above my left brow. Did he remember what happened after all?
“Oh come on! I don’t believe that bullshit for even a second!” A stern, accusing finger was now being held in my direction.
“Kaiba, I’m not trying to-”
“BULLSHIT!”
I froze at his sudden outburst. Out of every situation I had ever seen Seto in, he had never gotten so angry before. I couldn’t think of anything to say anymore. . . I just felt this odd urge to. . . “Can I kiss you?”
“What?” His arm dropped down to his side, “You fucking pervert!”
My body had, once again, taken on a mind of it’s own. I swiftly moved across the room, siezing Seto by the arms before he had a chance to react.
“Let go of me, you sick fu-”
Silenced with a kiss. . . how poetic. He fought against my death grip, very unlike last time, and he pursed his lips tightly in an attempt to keep my tongue from invading. However, that was a failed attempt and I was able to force my way in.
He tasted so good, and his squirming only made me more aroused. I guess I kind of was a sick fuck. . . but damn, that didn’t matter at the moment. Using my weight, I pushed his body towards and against the nearest wall. Pinning him with my body freed my hands for. . . other activities.
I ran my fingertips down his jawbone and neck. Seto’s hands, which were also free now, were on my head, desperately trying to force us apart. . . part of me wanted to hear him begging for me to stop. . . and so I pulled my mouth away.
“Get off of me!” His eyes were still tightly closed, his arms flailing wildly, “You’re ass will be in jail, you filthy son of a bitch!”
“Why don’t you just daze out like all the other times?!”
He ceased all movement, and I backed away from him. His expression was that of confusion.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Any other time something suggestive came up like this, you would go off in your own little world and start calling me ‘Saki’. . . but now that I actually planned on going through with things, you stay just as you always are!”
“You were going to-”
“That’s not the point!” I threw my hands up in the air in frustration, “You’ve been acting so fucking weird these past few days, and I sure as hell want to know why!”
“It’s not something that I can control. . .”
“Well then what the hell is it?!” I plopped back down on my bed and sighed. “At first I thought that maybe it was one of those illnesses that you have. . . the Post Traumatic one. . . but you have medicine for it, so-”
“It’s new.”
“What?”
“The medicine, it’s new. I switched medications to see if I could get better results. It takes a few days, sometimes a week, to make a clean switch.”
I felt like a dumbass right about then, “Oh. . .” I scratched at my messy blonde hair and then stood, “I guess that we should both get dressed now.”
“That we should.” Gather up his clothes, which lay in a puddle on the floor after he had thrown them at me in defense, he marched out the door. . . and then poked his head back in, “Oh, and Jounouchi?”
“Yeah?”
“Were you really going to-”
“No, I was just trying to see if you’d daze out again.” I lied.
“Okay, I didn’t think so.”
I smiled faintly and turned toward the clothes that I had left sitting on top of my dresser.
“Katsuya?”
I whirled around at the sound of my first name.
“You need new boxers. . . those have a hole in the ass.” And with that, he was gone.
He used my first name. . . fuck that, he was checking out my ass! Or. . . at least I think he was. . . how else would he have noticed a hole? It wasn’t that big, was it?
As I dressed, I went over the most recent events. Seto was definitely hiding something, even though we had both promised to keep nothing a secret. He certainly wasn’t the type to be modest. . . then again, I’ve been hitting on him a lot these past few days. Heh, that’s what I get I guess.
The moment I finished dressing, I slipped down the hallway and into my fathers’ room to retrieve the notebook that I had left behind. I had jotted down questions that I wanted to ask him.
“Jounouchi?”
I jumped at the sudden voice as I left the room and shut the door behind me, “You scared me. I was just getting my notebook.”
“Why was your notebook in your fathers’ room?” At this he folded his arms and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I. . . I’ve been carrying it with me all day.”
“Bullshit.” Was that his new favorite word or something?
“I’ve. . . be doing homework for other classes in it?”
“Definite bullshit.” He sighed, dropping his arms and leaning against the wall beside me. “Just tell me the truth Jounouchi.”
Jounouchi again? Whatever happened to Katsuya? “. . . I was. . . doing research on. . .”
“On what?”
“Your illness.”
“Which one?”
“What?”
“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because you confuse the hell out of me.”
“It is you that confuses me.”
- - -
- - -
Our lips pressed together, or mine pressed against his, gently. Seto didn’t slap me or shove me away this time. Instead, I put my hands on his shoulders to hold him up as I began to feel him fall against me. . . something wasn’t right. Reluctantly, I pulled away, my lips already missing Seto Kaiba’s sweet warmth.
“Don’t stop. . . don’t. . . don’t go away. . .”
I knew it! He had gone into that weird phase again!
“Saki. . .”
Alright, that was it! I laid him across the couch as carefully as I could, his clouded eyes staring off into nothingness as I did so. With soft steps, I was able to make my way down the hallway without disturbing my brunette as he faded off into. . . sleep? There was just no telling with him anymore.
Shaking the beautiful image away, I braved one of the most foul places in all of Domino. . . my father’s bedroom.
The smell that seemed to pour out into the apartment as I opened the door was a terrible one, the same mess remaining just as I had seen it on Friday.
The computer was in my father’s room, which would be why I rarely used it, well, that and the fact that it was a cheap piece of shit that was about six years old, if not older. The machine itself was slow and faulty, and putting that together with the horrible dial-up internet connection that we had didn’t make for a very efficient combination.
Normally, the speed, or lack thereof, of our computer would keep me from using it; however, my curiosity was stronger than my frustration at the moment. I had to know about his illness. . . more about him.
Being that I didn’t have my notebook at hand, I tried my best to remember the name of his disorder, and spelled it as best as I could. Hey, academics aren’t exactly my strong point.
Using the internet miracle that was “Google”, I did a web search for ‘Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder’, immediately being greeted by a ridiculously long list of various websites, most of which were official medical sites. . . this was going to be fun. . . no really, it would! I was highly interested in this!
Okay, so you’re probably thinking, “What the fuck is up with the random internet search?” Well, I figure that his weird-ass moments have something to do with his illness. . . but wouldn’t he have medicine for that? Wouldn’t that keep the symptoms, whatever they may be, from appearing? Are they new medicines that haven’t begun to affect him yet? I made a mental note to ask him about that.
Anyways, you’re probably also wondering about my reactions to him calling me Saki, I mean, he’s done that a few times now, but the other times, they were bad situations that lead me to believe Saki had raped Seto. . . and yet, this time. . . this time I had only given him a little kiss, and he didn’t want me to leave him. . . it was like he had affection for Saki. . . he loved Saki?
“Sometimes when you love someone, it doesn’t matter what they do. . .”
It doesn’t matter what they do. At the time he had said that, I assumed that somehow he was talking about Saki. . . but that would mean. . . Oh my God. . . did he really love Saki?
“So you’ve never had a best friend?”
“I did, but that was a very long time ago. We stopped speaking when I had just turned 16. . . His name was Saki.” A sad smile played on his lips for a fraction of a second, before falling into a frown, “That’s all you need to know.”
His best friend was Saki. But I’ve already determined that Saki was more of a boyfriend to him. . . stopped talking when Seto was sixteen, eh? But that really doesn’t make sense. If Seto was best friends and boyfriends with Saki, then why would Seto be so sad about it? Did Saki really rape Seto, or was I just assuming things?
“Why aren’t you friends anymore?”
“Because he couldn’t see the difference between lust and love.”
Lust and love. . . there was no longer any doubt in my mind about the rape, but it still didn’t make sense. If they were a couple, wouldn’t they have made love anyways? Why would Saki have to rape Seto? Was Seto that conservative about his virginity? He just didn’t seem like the type. . . so Seto must have called off their relationship, right?
Ugh, so many questions!
The computer screen still displayed the websites, and so I decided to just click the very first link on the list.
(AN: The website listen below is an actual one. I truly went here and did the research. So you can bet your life that this information is completely accurate. . . just like the medicines and dosages were. I’m just glad that I don’t have dial-up like Jou has. . . cable all the way! I like facts, not made up bullshit. Enjoy it, and try to learn a thing or two!)
The National Center for PTSD. . . uh, sounded official to me. The website looked to be mainly about war veterans at first, and so I almost returned to my search list. . . however, as my eyes scanned over the links, I decided against it, believing that perhaps there was a bit of valuable information here after all.
I clicked on ‘What is PTSD?’ the moment I saw it. Wow, they practically made this website for me! I was just thankful that my computer wasn’t as slow as usual. An enormous about of text appeared on my screen, and I groaned loudly at the thought of having to read extensive passages over the weekend. . . but this was going to be worth it in the end, I just knew it!
Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, is a psychiatric disorder that can occur following the experience or witnessing of life-threatening events such as military combat, natural disasters, terrorist incidents, serious accidents, or violent personal assaults like rape. . .
Rape. . . that must have been what caused it. . . and judging from the small bit of what he said about his step father, violent assaults was likely another cause. There was just no way I could have remembered this, and so I stepped out of the room, creeping down the hallway to my bedroom, where my notebook lay neglected on the floor from when I had been reading the project packet aloud to Seto.
Retrieving it at a rather quick pace, I hurriedly scampered back to my father’s room, checking on the sleeping beauty before shutting the door with a soft ‘click’.
Seating myself once more, my eyes studied the screen for that paragraph from earlier and I jotted down the gist of it, my eyes scanning for even more useful information.
People who suffer from PTSD often relive the experience through nightmares and flashbacks, have difficulty sleeping, and feel detached or estranged, and these symptoms can be severe enough and last long enough to significantly impair the person's daily life.
Woah. . . they were practically talking about Seto. The nightmares, the flashbacks. . . feeling detached. . . that was absolutely him! He was the poster boy for PTSD! I jotted it down, and continued my investigation.
The traumatic events most often associated with PTSD for men are rape, combat exposure, childhood neglect, and childhood physical abuse.
Again, very important, and such events could become a part of my questionnaire for Seto. The website went on to describe what types of people were likely to develop the disorder, and most of the descriptions fit the elder Kaiba. . . however a lot of the paragraphs stated that people with PTSD tended to drink heavily. . . but Seto didn’t seem to-
“I’ve been to enough bars in my lifetime to know what an alcoholics home would smell like.”
Heh, well, just because he has gone to a lot of bars, doesn’t mean he’s an alcoholic. . . I mean, he certainly doesn’t act like one! I’d have to ask him about that as well. . . out of curiosity, I went to the link about sexual abuse towards children. He said that he was adopted when he was twelve right? Well, he didn’t leave Saki until he was sixteen, so he could have been raped at a young age, and more than once. . . I didn’t really know much about that. . . so perhaps the page would hold some interesting information for me. . . which it certainly did.
Sometimes children may try to injure themselves or attempt suicide.
Bingo. That was enough information for the time being.
I jumped a bit as a knock came across my fathers’ door. I was shutting the computer down at the time.
“Jounouchi?” Seto’s adorable, groggy voice leaked through the cheap plywood, “Are you in there?” I could just picture him leaning with his ear against the door, eyes squinting in concentration. . . it brought a smile to my lips.
“Yeah.” That’s when I remembered that I hadn’t locked the door.
The knob turned and the hinges screeched miserably as he inched it open. I nearly knocked my chair over as I leapt from my place and slammed against the door, forcing it shut. . . Seto was probably pissed.
“What the fuck?!”
Yup, pissed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“You don’t need to be in here!”
“You can’t hid shit, you asshole! We had an agreement!” He was leaning on the other side of the door now. It came as no surprise that I was heavier than him and could therefore keep him out, but. . . he was right. I had told him to keep no secrets, and he had already revealed so much of his personal life to me. . .
I stepped to the side and he barely kept his balance as the door flew open so suddenly.
I thought that he was going to glare at me, but he gazed around the room instead. . . and cocked an eyebrow at me.
“This is the big secret that you were hiding?” He laughed slightly, making me feel stupid, and reached to the floor. When he stood at his full height once more, he held his arm stretched out towards my face, some mystery-slut’s bra clamped between his middle finger and thumb. “I kind of already guessed that your father was a pig.” He tossed the offensive clothing onto my fathers’ disarray bed.
“I just. . . it’s embarrassing.” I couldn’t believe that I had just admitted that!
“Why?”
“What?” I was quite confused by the question, which seemed to me to be a stupid one to ask.
“Why is it embarrassing? It’s not you’re fault he’s a slob.” He shrugged. “Oh yeah, did I fall asleep during our conversation?” He combed his left hand through his hair. . . mesmerizing me for a moment.
The memory of the kiss was gone. . . or was he just pretending that it never happened? No, Seto Kaiba wouldn’t do that. . . but what about earlier, when I almost. . . you know. . . It was like he was aware that it happened, but he wasn’t quite processing the event. . . does that make any sense at all?
“Yeah, something like that.” I’d let that go, no use in reminding him and getting bitched out. I glanced down at the piece-of-shit computer and recalled the list of questions that I wanted to ask him. “Can we do a little bit more work on our project?” He gave me a funny look. “What?”
“You asking to do schoolwork is strange.” He looked down at his pajamas, “Can I get dressed first though? It’s after noon already.”
“I wish you’d get undressed.” Oops. . .
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” I think I had begun to sweat.
He looked me up and down for a moment before turning to go down the hallway.
He was still acting so strangely; something was definitely wrong. He’d been acting different ever since he arrived at my place on Saturday. . . no, he had been rather fidgety and odd during school on Friday, even when I wasn’t harassing him.
I slipped down towards my bedroom, making a mental note to investigate his strangeness later.
Seto was kneeling on the floor, trying to make the difficult decision of what to wear for the remainder of the day. He had apparently packed his clothes by outfits, seeing as there was now a wide variety of drop-dead-gorgeous outfits surrounding my blue-eyed beauty. . . that’s right, MINE.
“Just pick one, rich-boy.”
He shot a glare at me and then glanced back at his choices for attire, “I like them all though. . . which one do you like the most?”
I almost checked my pulse to make sure that my heart hadn’t stopped. . . since when did my opinion matter to him? “What?”
“I’m indecisive and need your opinion. Give me an answer now and feel honored later.”
“Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to say what most other guys would say?”
Again he turned and looked at me, this time cocking a thin brown eyebrow, “I think I’d rather hear what most other guys would say.”
“Well. . . the tightest, most revealing outfit to show off your ass, legs, and chest.” It was difficult to keep from laughing at the stunned face that he made.
“Dare I as for your honest opinion?”
“I don’t know, do you?”
“I do.” He pursed his lips. I guess I was annoying him.
“Well then, close your eyes and spin around and wear whatever you stop at.” (AN: Isn’t that something Jou would say?)
“Umm, why?”
“Because it really doesn’t matter what you wear; you look good in everything.”
He stared at me for a long while before turning away. An awkward silence had come between us like a heavy fog, making me fidget. With a bit of care not to look completely ungraceful, I kneeled next to him, “If you want a more straight (ignore the pun) answer, try to blue, collared dress-shirt with the black, leather pants.”
With a strange speed, Seto snatched said outfit from the floor, a mysterious light gleaming in his beautiful, azure eyes, “Alright then, blue and black it is.”
“It was there that I realized that every pair of pants was the same; shiny, black leather. . . he did look very good in it after all. Most guys can’t get away with leather pants without looking like a flaming homosexual, but Seto just looked fucking sexy.
“You like leather, huh?” I had trudged over to my bed, bouncing lightly as I took a seat upon it.
“Well, I don’t exactly look right in blue jeans, and you saw those awful green pants that I had dared to wear during Duelist Kingdom.”
“The flares?”
“Ugh, spare me of the flashbacks. I only wore them because I figured they’d be easier to move around in.” He stood after shoving the remaining outfits back into his case, “Well, I’m going to go change.”
“Would it kill you to change in front of me?” Whoops. . . that was just a bit too forward.
“I don’t change in front of perverts.”
“I’m not a pervert!” He glared at me. “Seriously, I just figured it wouldn’t bother you.” I hopped from my bed and slung open my chest of drawers, retrieving a forest green t-shirt and some khaki slacks and then proceeded to strip down until I was in my plaid boxers only, “See? What’s so difficult about that?”
Seto was absolutely adorable with his wide eyes and bright pink cheeks.
“Uh, y-yeah. . . I’m just going to go and-”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Jounouchi, I’m not going to-”
“If you won’t, I will.”
“What?”
“If you don’t take your clothes off, I’ll simply peel them away myself.” I grinned at him and suddenly felt very much like a predator. . . and it felt strangely wonderful.
Without much warning other than a brief growl, he chucked the outfit at me, “You son of a fucking bitch!”
“What the hell?!”
“What the fuck is up with you?! Ever since I fucking got here, you’ve been trying to get in my fucking pants!” His sapphire eyes burned into me.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I could feel a nervous sweat beginning to form just above my left brow. Did he remember what happened after all?
“Oh come on! I don’t believe that bullshit for even a second!” A stern, accusing finger was now being held in my direction.
“Kaiba, I’m not trying to-”
“BULLSHIT!”
I froze at his sudden outburst. Out of every situation I had ever seen Seto in, he had never gotten so angry before. I couldn’t think of anything to say anymore. . . I just felt this odd urge to. . . “Can I kiss you?”
“What?” His arm dropped down to his side, “You fucking pervert!”
My body had, once again, taken on a mind of it’s own. I swiftly moved across the room, siezing Seto by the arms before he had a chance to react.
“Let go of me, you sick fu-”
Silenced with a kiss. . . how poetic. He fought against my death grip, very unlike last time, and he pursed his lips tightly in an attempt to keep my tongue from invading. However, that was a failed attempt and I was able to force my way in.
He tasted so good, and his squirming only made me more aroused. I guess I kind of was a sick fuck. . . but damn, that didn’t matter at the moment. Using my weight, I pushed his body towards and against the nearest wall. Pinning him with my body freed my hands for. . . other activities.
I ran my fingertips down his jawbone and neck. Seto’s hands, which were also free now, were on my head, desperately trying to force us apart. . . part of me wanted to hear him begging for me to stop. . . and so I pulled my mouth away.
“Get off of me!” His eyes were still tightly closed, his arms flailing wildly, “You’re ass will be in jail, you filthy son of a bitch!”
“Why don’t you just daze out like all the other times?!”
He ceased all movement, and I backed away from him. His expression was that of confusion.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Any other time something suggestive came up like this, you would go off in your own little world and start calling me ‘Saki’. . . but now that I actually planned on going through with things, you stay just as you always are!”
“You were going to-”
“That’s not the point!” I threw my hands up in the air in frustration, “You’ve been acting so fucking weird these past few days, and I sure as hell want to know why!”
“It’s not something that I can control. . .”
“Well then what the hell is it?!” I plopped back down on my bed and sighed. “At first I thought that maybe it was one of those illnesses that you have. . . the Post Traumatic one. . . but you have medicine for it, so-”
“It’s new.”
“What?”
“The medicine, it’s new. I switched medications to see if I could get better results. It takes a few days, sometimes a week, to make a clean switch.”
I felt like a dumbass right about then, “Oh. . .” I scratched at my messy blonde hair and then stood, “I guess that we should both get dressed now.”
“That we should.” Gather up his clothes, which lay in a puddle on the floor after he had thrown them at me in defense, he marched out the door. . . and then poked his head back in, “Oh, and Jounouchi?”
“Yeah?”
“Were you really going to-”
“No, I was just trying to see if you’d daze out again.” I lied.
“Okay, I didn’t think so.”
I smiled faintly and turned toward the clothes that I had left sitting on top of my dresser.
“Katsuya?”
I whirled around at the sound of my first name.
“You need new boxers. . . those have a hole in the ass.” And with that, he was gone.
He used my first name. . . fuck that, he was checking out my ass! Or. . . at least I think he was. . . how else would he have noticed a hole? It wasn’t that big, was it?
As I dressed, I went over the most recent events. Seto was definitely hiding something, even though we had both promised to keep nothing a secret. He certainly wasn’t the type to be modest. . . then again, I’ve been hitting on him a lot these past few days. Heh, that’s what I get I guess.
The moment I finished dressing, I slipped down the hallway and into my fathers’ room to retrieve the notebook that I had left behind. I had jotted down questions that I wanted to ask him.
“Jounouchi?”
I jumped at the sudden voice as I left the room and shut the door behind me, “You scared me. I was just getting my notebook.”
“Why was your notebook in your fathers’ room?” At this he folded his arms and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I. . . I’ve been carrying it with me all day.”
“Bullshit.” Was that his new favorite word or something?
“I’ve. . . be doing homework for other classes in it?”
“Definite bullshit.” He sighed, dropping his arms and leaning against the wall beside me. “Just tell me the truth Jounouchi.”
Jounouchi again? Whatever happened to Katsuya? “. . . I was. . . doing research on. . .”
“On what?”
“Your illness.”
“Which one?”
“What?”
“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because you confuse the hell out of me.”
“It is you that confuses me.”
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