A/N: Hello, everyone, welcome to my new fan fiction. No, I'm not dead. : ) This story kind of came to me one day. Man, I haven't been active – especially in the Yuugiou fandom - in a long time! I hope you'll take the time to read and review this. Constructive criticism is always welcome. This did start out as a one-shot, but it became a bit too long, so I'm currently dividing it up into three or four parts. Anyway, tally-ho, and I'll see you soon. : )
Pairing: Seto x Jounouchi
Warnings: Language, alcohol use, shounen-ai/yaoi, scenes of violence, sexuality
Chapter I: For the Benefit of Being Trashed
"Would you like another drink, sir?"
The voice sounded incredibly far away to Jounouchi Katsuya, but he still managed to lift his head and focus on the inquiring bartender. He had answered "yes" to this same question four other times already tonight, in the past hour and a half. He knew he was drunk as fuck, as the phrase unpleasantly went, but he knew that if he didn't continue his drinking binge, he would start to feel the physical pain his body was quietly restraining.
So, staring past the bartender's head, gazing at the grand selection of liquor directly behind him, Jounouchi responded, "Yes, two shots of tequila, if you would," with as much accuracy as he could muster, given his current state.
The two shots of tequila would probably kill him. Though he was tall and at a relatively healthy weight for his age, he was a light-weight when it came to drinking. After his second glass of rum and coke, he had been feeling extremely tipsy. After he'd downed his third drink, a shot of vodka, he had felt the world rock back and forth unsteadily as he made his way to the restroom. The fourth drink had been a double shot of rye, and had completely trashed him.
Jounouchi, however, was one of those drunks who refused to sink to the "drunken" level of speech inadequacy. He managed to maintain a fairly coherent and understandable speaking voice, while his body and mind did their own thing without him noticing. His only goal was to not sound drunk so he could continue giving drink orders and continue spending all his money at one shot.
Just as his next drinks arrived, a tall and familiar looking figure took a seat next to Jounouchi, ordering a glass of scotch. His face was hidden by soft-looking brunette hair, resting lightly on high cheekbones. From what Jounouchi could make of the stranger, however, was that he looked to be about the same age as himself (seventeen) – very funny, considering Jounouchi was only in the bar because of a very passable fake I.D. claiming that he was, in fact, twenty-one – the legal drinking age.
It wasn't until Jounouchi had forced the two tequila shots down his throat – which caused him to make an audible gasping sound – that the stranger looked his way. And he was indeed no stranger at all.
Jounouchi's amber eyes met the icy cerulean eyes of a certain schoolmate, a certain Seto Kaiba. He gulped and quickly looked away, trying to pretend he hadn't seen him.
It was too late, though. Seto had noticed and his face immediately twisted into his cold trademark smirk. "Ah, Jounouchi Katsuya, everyone's favourite animal. What could possibly bring you here?" Seto found it odd that the blonde was able to sneak into the bar, undetected. Hell, sometimes even the brunette, corporate billionaire, had a tough time getting into bars underage.
Jounouchi feared opening his mouth, for he knew if he did, all of his hard-earned composure would come tumbling loose in a drunken mess. He did not want Seto to have the advantage of being sober, while he was so plastered out of his mind, he could barely remember his own name.
"Not in the mood to talk? Well, that's surprising. I guess you've finally learned your place, which is the bottom rung of society," Seto said casually, swirling his drink so the liquid made a soft swish sound.
"Oh, just shut your fuckin' mouth, Kaiba, and leave me be," Jounouchi snapped, surprised that every word had actually come out right, though somewhat slurred. So much for composure.
Seto studied Jounouchi's tousled blonde hair and red-rimmed eyes. Curious, he beckoned the bartender, knowing that he would never get a straight answer out of the teen. "Excuse me, if you don't mind my inquiring – which I'm sure you don't -, how much has this young man beside me had to drink?" he asked smoothly, asserting his power.
"Well, Mr. Kaiba, he's had five drinks, but two of those were doubles, so I guess seven," the bartender replied, drying a glass.
"Hmm, interesting. I'm sure that will all be coming back up within an hour's time, won't it, Jounouchi?"
"You're such an arrogant prick," the blonde muttered. "Just fuck off." But he knew Seto was right. He was already beginning to feel a bit queasy, and was certain that another drink would induce an all-night vomit fest.
Seto was silent for a moment. There was something definitely wrong with Jounouchi, even given his intoxicated state. He seemed dark, brooding, and slightly dangerous. Seto would have guessed that he would be a happy-go-lucky drunk, but that was obviously not the case. Despite the fact that his eyes were red-rimmed, there were also dark bags lurking beneath them, and a pale bruise just beginning to fade on his right cheek. He vaguely wondered where that would have come from, but he didn't have to wonder long.
"There, now I'm a fucking drunk, too, like my - " Jounouchi stopped, and quietly slurred curses to himself. He hissed as he accidently knocked another bruised part of his body – his shin – into the bar.
Though Seto didn't really care much for the happenings in other people's lives, this definitely caught his attention. There were always rumours at school about how Jounouchi lived in a little shit-hole on 23rd street where he suffered relentless beatings at the hands of his drunken father every night.
Seto had thought that those were just rumours. In his defense, Jounouchi had always seemed like a happy, out-going guy with lots of friends – something that didn't quite fit well with the 'victim' scenario. People who were abused generally shut out friends and kept to themselves. Odd.
"Jounouchi?" Seto asked, now curious. The blonde was currently flicking at nothing on the counter, muttering something to himself.
His head snapped up. "What?" He was having trouble remembering where he was, what he was doing, and who he was with.
"What happened to your face?"
"Oh, my father hit me, as usual," Jounouchi replied loudly and casually, as if it were nothing. He looked like he was telling the truth – as most drunks are, unfortunately, prone to do.
Seto was slightly shocked by the blunt and straightforward answer. "Oh," was all he could reply as he took another sip from his drink.
Apparently "oh" was not the correct answer because in two seconds, Jounouchi's eyes had narrowed and he was now glaring daggers at the young CEO. "You son of a bitch!" he hissed. "For every night that you go home to your fucking palace, I go home to no food, no running water and a father who wastes all of his money on alcohol! Then he gets drunk and beats me to the point of hallucinating my own miserable death!"
His voice had become louder, and his breathing heavy. His words were so slurred at this point, that Seto had a hard time understanding them. He got the general message, though, and turned so he was looking Jounouchi in the eye. "And I suppose you think that's my fault, mutt? Well, I have news for you, it's not; nor is it my fault if you become the same drunken slob your so-called father is." Before the words were even out of his mouth, Seto somewhat regretted them. A pained look had quickly danced over Jounouchi's features, and an emotion heavier than sadness had appeared in his eyes.
"I'mma be sick." The blonde took off for the bathroom. Once inside, he slammed the door shut, locking it, and began to pay homage to the porcelain god. Seto was right! He was right! By drinking himself to this state, he had become no better than his father. And with such a history of alcohol abuse, why would he even think of drinking, especially to this point? He broke out in a cold sweat and started choking back sobs, which was a difficult thing to do, given that he wasn't quite finished throwing-up.
"Oh, God," he whispered, "oh, God." He had to get a hold of himself. If he died here tonight, he wasn't so sure that he would actually care, but he knew that he should at least try to calm down. He took several sobering breaths, grasping the toilet.
His panicked thoughts were disrupted when a soft knock sounded on the door. "Let me in, Jounouchi. Don't you know you're not supposed to lock the door when you're drunk and vomiting?" It was Seto.
"Go the fuck away!"
There was no sound for a moment, and then Jounouchi heard the lock click. The door opened a few seconds later, and Seto came in, closing the door quietly behind him. "I can jimmy a lock faster than you can spell your own name aloud, mutt," he said.
Jounouchi said nothing, staring at the floor, the waves of nausea gradually decreasing.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Seto said, "I'm sorry."
Jounouchi's head snapped up. "For what?"
Seto ignored him. Instead, he cautiously extended his hand to Jounouchi. "Come on. I'm going to take you home... or at least away from here. I've paid your tab, so don't worry about it."
Jounouchi stared at him, utterly confused. Hesitantly, he accepted Seto's hand and let him pull him off the ground. He stumbled, though, and ended up falling right into the brunette's chest.
Seto caught him, his hands resting on Jounouchi's waist.
Jounouchi was looking up into his icy blue eyes when a very drunken thought occurred to him, and he acted out on said drunken thought. He pressed his hands against Seto's chest, and, using all of his force, slammed him against the bathroom wall.
"What the fuck do you think you're – " Seto couldn't finish his sentence, though, because now Jounouchi had his mouth pressed tightly against his, and was gripping his wrists so hard he actually couldn't move his arms.
"This," Jounouchi growled, "is for making me want you." His bit down hard on Seto's lower lip, causing the brunette to gasp in pain. "And this," Jounouchi slurred, ravaging his mouth with both lips and tongue, "is for being so cruel and cold-hearted."
If there was one time in Seto Kaiba's life that he couldn't come up with a smart-ass remark, it was right now.