Not the way you want

Warnings/notes : Joey/Seto, rape (referred to in flashbacks only), thoughts of suicide, slightly dark, oocness.

Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

written at 29th june 2003, by Misura


His room was cold.

His body was cold as well.

His tears had been hot, leaving a trail of fire as they had slided down his cheeks, but he had run out of tears to cry moments ago, ages ago.

His blood had been hot too, at first. He could still taste its metallic taste in his mouth.

"Do you like it rough, lovely?"

A hand shoving him into a wall. He yelped with the pain, hating himself for showing it.

The boy in front of him chuckled.

"So sensitive, are you?"

The voice sounded slurred. Only then did he realize his assailant was drunk and not in control of his actions anymore. Only then he started to panick.

"L-let go of me!" He started to struggle.

"Already? Why, the fun has hardly begun?"

Another chuckle, followed by something that might have been a kiss had it not been so violent.

Teeth bit down on his lower lip, breaking the skin.

The boy on the bed shivered, slowly starting to rock his body back and forth.

He wanted to forget, but couldn't.

He wanted to go to sleep, but feared what dreams might come.

His clothes were lying in a crumpled heap in a corner of the room, too dirty to keep on.

Too filled with memories. He wished he could make them disappear, together with his memories.

He had always known the other didn't like him.

They had sparred verbally often enough, only rarely coming to blows.

Neither of them had much taste for violence after events from the past.

Yet there had always been a thin line that was never crossed, a point where they would both back off and leave in relative peace.

There was dislike between them, but no hatred.

There were skirmishes between them, but no war.

When a hand reached for his pants, his mind simply couldn't grasp what was happening at first.

He heard the door to his room open, heard a soft gasp, hesitant footsteps coming closer.

Whimpering he tried to evade the arms that were reaching for him, unwilling for anyone to touch him while he was still this dirty.

He was too weak though.

Arms encircled him, a soft voice whispering words of comfort and reassurance.

"Hush. Everything's going to be all right."

He shook his head. Nothing was going to be all right ever again.

His body was gently pulled in the direction of the bathroom.

When he stumbled and his knees gave away, the arms were there to catch him.

He could have wept if only he had had any tears left.

"Hmmm, you look so pretty when you cry."

A soft laugh.

"Even if it gets your lovely eyes all red and puffed up."

He tried to turn away as a hand gripped his chin, forcing him to look up.

"Ah-ah, I want to see you. Come on, weep for me some more."

He didn't want to.

He couldn't help it though.

Warm water made him go sleepy, as hands held his head above the water-level.

A part of him hated them for that, wanting to have the water fill his lungs.

It would be a way out. A way out of everything.

The other boy had been right as he said no one really cared for him after all. Especially after what had happened to him, what he had allowed to be done to him.

"Try to keep quiet, please. I don't want you to drown." A soft voice admonished him.

He tried to tell the person it was all right for him to drown, but he lacked the strength.

As a towel was wrapped around his body, he was led to another room, gently laid down on a bed not his own.

He heard the other person shifting away and blindly reached out.

"Stay! Please!" His voice was a hoarse whisper.

"I won't leave you alone. Not ever." A warm weight settled beside him, a comforting familiar presence. For the first time that night he felt safe again.

With a soft sigh he drifted off to sleep.


Mokuba tenderly pulled a blanket over his brother's body, wondering what had happened, but knowing the last thing Seto would want or need right now was him asking questions.

In time, his brother would tell him. It would be his own choice.

When he collected the clothes in Seto's room and saw the blood on the sheets where he had found his beloved older brother cowering like a little child, he couldn't suppress the blind rage that flooded through him.

Whoever had done this would pay for what he had done.

But first, he would have to help Seto recover.

After he had deposited the clothes in a laundry-basket he walked back to his room, settling in next to his brother, for once happy with the large bed that offered enough room for the two of them. He swore he would not let whatever had happened to his brother tonight destroy the life they had built together.

And that he would never let anyone hurt Seto again.


Author's note : I'm not sure about this really. But, as those who are reading any of my other stories know, I won't be on-line for almost a month so I was curious what people thought of this.