Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Web of Fate ❯ We heal, we wound, we learn ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Same as previous. Who owns YuGiOh? Not I, said the author.

A/N: Here's chapter two, which has taken a while to get done because I rewrote everything. (I blame this on you, Moe). The rating's been upped to R, which seems to be right; I checked the guidelines but if you guys think otherwise, don't hesitate to tell me to edit. Also, please tell me if this sucked because I'm a bit wary after rereading and fixing the whole thing; the transitions and end, especially.

Thanks to Jessica for the beta and thanks to the readers for their feedback; responses are below.

+we heal, we wound, we learn+

Mokuba barely reacted. He had nodded in acceptance, like he usually did when he was offered juice for breakfast, and turned back to the screen where all the fighting and fun was, not noticing the quick flicker of emotion on Seto's face. Yami noticed though, and reacted accordingly. A soft brush of hands and a quick shake of his head, multi-coloured strands whirling, did more than it should, and Seto relaxed; not a whole not, but that was to be expected. Mokuba wasn't acting as like he should be -- or to be more precise, he was acting as if nothing happened.

Seto was concerned, though he tried to hide it. One thing he had always feared was the influence Gozaburo would have on his little brother. To see his innocent little brother be under the rule of Gozaburo was enough to make his blood boil and spill over, but to have, in essence, Gozaburo's spirit corrupt him? It was the seventh, and last, hell. He looked at Yami, but Yami just shook his head again. Relax, his eyes seem to say, searing into Seto's soul and delivering its message with a sharp punch. And Seto tried because Yami was right, and because Mokuba was Mokuba. Nothing, nobody, was going to change that.

"Mokuba?" he asked, but just for reassurance's sake.

Dark eyes turned towards him in curiosity and then blinked, realisation and an infectious smile spreading. "I'm fine, Seto." He added with just the right amount of derision that seemed too foreign and too familiar, "It's not like I cared about him. He made you miserable. He made Yami fight with us. I hate him, still do."

Seto let the words curl around his mind, testing its implications and finding no fault within the logic. He finally gave a nod to Mokuba, who had gotten up to give his big brother a hug because Seto never would, and Mokuba just wanted Seto not to worry anymore. Seto had done everything; there was nothing left to do except take over KaibaCorp and deal with the board, whom were no doubt going to be angry one way or the other. Mokuba wasn't worried though. Seto was tough, and with Yami and him backing Seto, they were untouchable.

A hand lingered on dark hair, Seto looked to be as defenseless as he ever could be, and then it was over; Mokuba left the hug reluctantly, leaving Seto feeling chilled when there should be warmth, but it was what Seto wanted. He couldn't stand being defenseless for too long, even in their own home.

Yami watched, almost turning away because the scene was too intimate and just too much for any third party to bear, and Mokuba would have rolled his eyes and said Yami was being stupid, and Seto would have said nothing, but nothing spoke volumes because Seto never disagreed. So Yami watched, with maybe a twinge of loneliness, a twist of amused self-disgust, and a slice of envy, as the scene between the two blood-related brothers ended and they finally noticed Yami. Mokuba did what he usually did: he gave Yami a hug next and grinned as if to say, you're part of this too so don't be sad, before he went back to his television, leaving Yami and Seto to work around that short period of awkwardness.

Years spent living in the same house, under the same tyrannical rule, and still there were odd spaces, tense silences. That could have very well been because they had pretended to be enemies for so long that it became second nature and a second knowledge. Gozaburo made them fight; chess, business, design and anything else that was profitable and strategic were open for exploitation -- or as Gozaburo had put it, to rise to heights you have never seen before. And what was better than a worthy opponent? Gozaburo had sought to twist their friendship into hate and grudging respect, until both of them were unrecognisable as the two boys who loved to play games -- and win -- in the orphanage, but even then, he had failed, and what he sought to create turned into something of the opposite. The hate that he had so wanted banded together and turned against him, casting him through the blue sky and down onto the grey concrete. And yet, Yami thought privately in the dark when he couldn't sleep and Seto's scent was all over him, Gozaburo might have been proud.

Seto sighed. "We'll have to deal with the board tomorrow."

The tension eased a bit and Yami nodded. "I'm sure they'll be less than agreeable."

"They'll be very powerful enemies."

"They can't do anything without us knowing and they know it. That's half the reason for their anger." Yami sounded confident, his frown notwithstanding.

"Still, I'm worried about -- "

"Oh, just hurry up and kiss already," Mokuba called out cheekily. He was facing them now, television all but forgotten.

Yami had to snicker, and because Seto just looked drolly at his little brother, he kept on snickering. There was nothing like some brotherly teasing to brighten the atmosphere, Yami thought.

"Mokuba," Seto warned, but he was smiling a little, as if he didn't want to and couldn't help it at the same time.

"Big brother, I just know you want to go upstairs and --"

"Mokuba!"

Snickering, Mokuba gave Yami a thumb's up. It was like a domino effect, and soon Yami was joining in the laughter much to Seto's mock show of displeasure. Seto glared at them, his blue eyes narrowing, but even he, the imposing, granite statue couldn't stop the barest quirk of his mouth, the lightening of his stormy blue eyes. It was as close to a laugh as he could manage.

Yami flung his jacket off onto the ground of Seto's bedroom. It would always be Seto's bedroom to him, no matter how many times Yami slept in his slightly rumpled bed, how many times he left an article of his clothing in Seto's closet, or found his missing pens hidden somewhere amidst Seto's desk -- which was in much the same condition as his bed, ordered and arranged in Seto's logic. Yami had his own logic, and much of the time, it clashed with Seto's, which was another reason for keeping his own room even when he didn't need to. It wasn't as if Gozaburo was there, arrogance and the wild countenance of a predator eyeing his prey; nor was Mokuba in the dark about the relationship of his big brother and his adopted big brother. Still, the routine held, and neither could be bothered changing it.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Or so the saying went, Yami thought as he tossed his shirt off and landed on Seto's bed, half-naked and feeling oddly sensual. It was the sheets, he decided, after caressing the soft, silky folds of the bed. Seto liked his comforts just as much as the next bad-tempered, emotionally-stunted genius, though Yami didn't need to say it; Seto knew his flaws much better than anyone, and much more intimately than his perfections.

Yami smiled. "Like what you see?"

He didn't need to see to know Seto was there, just outside the door way, staring at him with an amused and hungry intensity. He could feel it on his skin, just like the pleasurable ghosts of Seto's slender, long-fingered hands and the slightly rough nips of Seto's teeth when Seto was feeling particularly dark. Shivering a little, Yami almost missed Seto's snort.

"Don't I always?"

"Are you going to answer all my questions with another question?"

"Don't you think I should?" Seto countered, and a small smile was toyed briefly with on Seto's face.

This was another game, among the many they played, but this one was satisfying in an entirely different way. They played because they wanted to, because they could, because they couldn't resist the challenge; they played this because the ending was the most anticipated part, and because neither lost. Seto wasn't too happy with losing, as he was bound to when Yami was his opponent. Yami didn't know why, didn't know how he always managed to win all the time; no matter the context, the game, he was its king and Seto hated the it intensely. His hate twined with his pride, and sometimes this helped Yami to see above it all, see past Seto's aggressive front and slide slowly into a small, tiny portion of Seto's heart. The rest belonged to Mokuba.

"I don't know...maybe?"

Yami sighed and placed one of his hands strategically on his stomach. It took Seto's attention, focused it on nothing but Yami's slithering body, smooth skin, and the locket attached to his collar, hanging around his neck like some mark of possession. His fingers lightly dusted his skin, sending goose bumps running along, while he shifted his hips, parted his legs and all but invited Seto to come forward and stay. It would be much better if he was naked and there was no barrier between him and the silk sheets, Yami thought as he sighed.

"Perhaps," Seto murmured and then walked towards Yami until he was beside the bed, within touching range. A hand reached out and slid into multi-coloured hair, and Yami tilted his head, baring his neck; he looked at Seto through half-lidded red eyes and licked his lips just once, almost like an afterthought, but they both knew better than that. He watched Seto shiver, grow taut and let out a silent, heavy breath.

Yami waited for Seto to decide. He knew Seto had ulterior motives for ending their game so quickly and he wanted to know why, but not right now; not when they were both hard and wanting and hungry for something primal. He licked his lips again, this time not bothering to hide his teasing smirk and wondered if Seto wanted his mouth first before his body. Maybe both, he thought, as he was tugged up to a willingly crawl on his hands and knees and with his face looking up into hot blue eyes. Yami never took his own eyes, dark with desire, away as he moved forward painstakingly close to Seto's hips. Seto watched Yami move, watched his every move, watched as he reached for his belt, pulling it free with a slow tug, and unzipped Seto's pants, fingers brushing Seto almost teasingly. Before he could do anything else, the hand still clutching his hair pulled him away and back onto the bed as Seto followed suit leisurely. Yami watched Seto throw off his trench coat, unbutton his shirt and crawl on top of him with a shiver of barely concealed anticipation.

He arched up at the contact; it was much better than the sheets, much silkier, warmer, hotter, and Yami wanted more skin-to-skin contact, more touching, more. But if he wanted more, then Seto had to give him more because this was Seto and Seto liked making him want and pant and demand. Seto pressed both his wrists down onto the bed, effectively trapping him and kissed the twin pink lines etched along both his arms tenderly, gently as if Yami would break apart in pieces if he didn't, and slid in between Yami's legs.

Yami breathed a little harder and thrust out his hips, needing contact, but not getting it because even though Seto couldn't hurt Yami, he liked to watch Yami squirm.

"Well?" he said huskily, caging in his impatience and turning his body pliant. There were more ways than one to get what he wanted, and Seto Kaiba always had a weakness for his body.

Seto said nothing, but his eyes gave it all away. He was looking down at Yami, hand leaving Yami's hair as he traced Yami's flushed cheeks, parted lips that had suckled one finger and the locket that hung quietly around Yami's neck. Seto gazed at the locket for a while before his hand went back to its journey downwards, and around, and inside.

"More," Yami moaned as his hips moved up again, and he only stopped saying that when Seto was buried deep inside in one aching thrust, when Seto had finished his teasing and Yami was more than ready, and they were moving in a demanding, ravenous rhythm. Need and want mixed together, groans of pleasure melted into one and Yami only gasped out Seto's name when he climaxed and felt Seto's mouth on his, crying out his own pleasure into Yami because this was the only way, and because he gave Yami everything in this. Soft kisses were returned and he comforted a shuddering Seto, who had more demons than he cared for, and who hated his weaknesses too much to care.

Sweetbriar: Thanks for the correction. I'm glad you're enjoying my Seto/Yami fics.

Amarin Rose: Heh. It was the fact that it was such an interesting idea that I couldn't leave it alone as just a snippet. I must have been a psychic in a past life or something -- as soon as I read your review to Laid Bare, I couldn't stop grinning since this chapter was going to up the rating. So, in a way, my answer's yes. I'll check to see if there's anymore fun S/Y ficlets waiting to pop out. XD

halowing4: Glad you're enjoying it. ^^; I'm sorta interested in seeing what I come up with too, since I'm still trying to improve on my WIP writing.