Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Thin Line	By : Rroselavy Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8050 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
- 3
A/N: I don't own or profit in way from Yu-Gi-Oh.

Chapter 2
It was lunch again, he was tired of the excuses that kept him from his friends. He felt very alone. He knew if he told them what was going on, they would do anything they could to help. But what could they do? He couldn't stay with Yuugi and his grandpa. He couldn't drag them into his mess. Honda's mother would barely give Jou the time of day, and Anzu only tolerated him because he was Yuugi's best friend. He guessed Ryou might take him in, but he was scared shitless of Bakura. No, best not to muddy those waters.
The smell of the food in the cafeteria was turning his stomach. Funny, how there was a point when you were starving where food actually stopped smelling good.
"Aren't you hungry, Jounouchi"? Yuugi enquired.
"Nah, I'm not feeling too well today, Yuug," he replied. 'Hah,' he thought, 'at least it wasn't a total lie.'
"Yeah, man, you don't look so good," Honda added. He never missed a chance to tweak Jou, but Honda never got under his skin the way Kaiba could.
"Thanks Bud, I knew I could count on you ta point that out," he shot back.
His appetite was a legend in the school. Jounouchi was always hungry, always ready to eat, would finish anyone's lunch. No one knew the truth, that he hardly ever knew when or where his next meal was coming from.
Kaiba observed how thin Jounouchi was getting. 'He's actually looking a little anorexic,' he mused. It upset him to think of that hot body wasting away. He lost his appetite. Kaiba folded up the remainder of his lunch in its wrapper and on his way out of the cafeteria, placed it carefully in the trash in the hall outside. A sidelong glance told him Jounouchi was watching him hungrily.
He continued down the hall to an outside courtyard where kids smoked on break. He took out his cell and made a business call. Kaiba could see the trash can through a window from where he stood. He watched, and sure enough, saw Jou swing by the trash, and in fluid motion lift the package out. He never even slowed, and unless someone was deliberately looking for the move, no one would have noticed.
Jou left the building with his prize, only to stumble in dismay when he saw Kaiba in front of him. He kept on walking, but felt the flush of embarrassment stain his cheeks.
Kaiba turned away as Jou came out of school, thankful for once that his cell conversation would keep him from hurling some humiliation at the other boy. He ended the call and headed back inside. The phone rang before he opened the door. It was Mokuba's ringtone.
"Hey big bro" Mokuba chimed as Kaiba answered.
"Hello, Mokuba"
"Can I have a playdate"?"
"Sure Moku, when do you want to invite one of your friends over?"
"I dunno, I just wanted to make sure it would be alright with you! Bye!"
Kaiba rolled his eyes and headed back inside. Usually a playdate for Mokuba meant Yuugi and some combination of his friends. And that meant no work for Kaiba, as they usually tried to engage him in their silly games. His eyes narrowed. Then again, that meant Jounouchi would be there, and that was always good sport. His heart warmed a little thinking about how Yuugi and Jounouchi treated Mokuba. They never failed to be kind and patient with him, and Kaiba knew their feelings toward Moku were genuine. There had been others whose parents used their kid's friendship with his little brother as an excuse to get closer to him. That thought disgusted him.
It was foolish really, that he was still in school. Here he was at eighteen, one of the richest men in the hemisphere, and he had to finish high school. It had been the deal he had managed after Gozuboro died, to keep he and Mokuba together and on their own.
Although most people believed otherwise, life had been hard for Kaiba under his adoptive father. The elder Kaiba never missed an opportunity to denigrate Seto's accomplishments, and to push him further to excel through threats and humiliation. There was never time for friendships or social activities, there was only schoolwork and work. No method of punishment was alien to the elder Kaiba. When berating young Seto did not produce the desired results he resorted to beatings. When they became ineffective, he threatened rescind the adoption and send he and Mokuba back to the orphanage. Then there were other, darker punishments. Seto quickly developed the business acumen that he supposed made his father proud, and at the same time, he was able to shield Mokuba from his influence. It didn't take him long to figure out the more effort he poured into becoming Kaiba Jr., the more latitude Moku had to grow up normally. He would never tell Mokuba of that sacrifice.
When Gozuboro killed himself, Kaiba was relieved. He had already been running a gaming division in Kaiba Corp. that was garnering record profits. He was a visionary gamer, and the public responded to titles he authored. They clamored for sequels. That he was only fifteen at the time of Gozuboro's death, in his mind, was a mere inconvenience. He had already learned that he could acquire anything or anyone if he threw enough money at the object of his desire. So he had retained a lawyer to act as guardian. Kaiba bargained for his freedom and Mokuba's guardianship at his majority, age eighteen. For some reason the lawyer held out for the stipulation that Kaiba graduate high school. Knowing when to cut his losses, Kaiba agreed. He paid the lawyer his retainer every month, and only saw him when he needed contracts drawn up or revised.
* * *
Jou knew things were getting desperate. He finished the food he'd liberated from the garbage. He'd watched Kaiba toss it away, and figured it couldn't be too bad. It also wasn't too much, which he had learned was equally as important. The meal took an edge off his hunger, but it only highlighted the fact that he needed to come to some terms to get back home. He was going to have to beg his old man to take him back in, and hope that with enough groveling, he'd be able to get a meal or two out of him. He couldn't think too far ahead, as he knew any deal would be tenuous, and subject to revocation at his father's whim.
He knew his father needed him. Without Jou, they'd most likely be homeless. Jou kept the bill collectors at bay, rationing out payments, always enough to keep a roof over their heads, though at any given time there might be no heat, electricity or telephone service. He also maintained the apartment as best he could, fixing things that broke, and cleaning up after them both. In simple terms, his father needed a maid and someone to look after him. Jou needed a place to sleep, some food and his clothes. Maybe Jou could parlay those facts and get back in his father's good graces. It was surely better than the alternatives he faced: making a go of it on the street, or going to social services. If he went there, he would have to press charges against his father, and though he hated the beatings, he still held out hope that his old man would somehow miraculously sober up and stop. 'Really, asshole,' he said to himself, 'that's a fat chance.' But social services also meant he'd be put into foster care, or worse, the orphanage. How many people would foster a seventeen year-old with a gang history? Odds were, he would be moved away from his friends.
After school, he slowly made his way home, working out his reasoning, hoping against hope that if his father was sober, he'd be able to get him to agree to let him stay. If he wasn't, maybe he'd have a chance to collect some of his belongings. He slipped his key in the door, pushed it and let it swing open.
"Dad?" he called out softly to the semidark. If his father was awake, he still could escape, but if he was asleep he didn't want to call too loud and wake him. There was no response, the apartment was quiet, unoccupied. Relieved, he quietly walked down the hall toward his room. Something was terribly wrong though, in the dusk he could see that his door was open. He had locked it before he left yesterday, he always locked it, mostly to keep the old man from selling or trashing what little possessions he had.
As he neared, he realized that the door was off its hinges. He felt a cold sweat creep across his body. He stopped. "Dad?" He called out softly again. All was still. The area of his room framed by the doorway was a disaster. Jou always kept it orderly, since he owned so little, it wasn't hard to, but after he'd gone last night, his father had trashed it completely. He slowly entered, trying to comprehend the damage his father had inflicted. "Dad," he said quietly to himself, "What the fuck did you do?"
"What did I do?!" His father lunged at him and pinned him to the wall, one hand around his throat. Jou was seeing stars. He struggled against the chokehold, panicking that the old man was finally going to do him in.
"What did I do?!" his father screamed again. "What the fuck did you do, you faggot?" In the haze of being asphyxiated, it suddenly occurred to Jou that his father must have found his small stash of gay porn.
'Oh God, this is it,' he thought. "Da-- sto--" he wheezed, but the grip only got tighter.
"So that's what you like, you little faggot? You can get that anytime?!" Jou could smell the stale alcohol and cigarettes on father's breath. He was losing consciousness fast. His father wrenched him towards him, released his throat, and for a split second Jou thought the old man was done. How wrong he was. While he was off balance, his father spun him around and slammed him face first into the wall. Blissfully he sensed himself slipping into unconscious even as he felt the tug of his pants falling off his waist and slipping down to his knees.
Jou woke cold. There was an enormous weight crushing down on his back. It hurt to breathe. In the darkness it all came back to him. His father's even breathing above him told him that he'd passed out. Jou managed to roll his father off and slowly got up. He hurt all over. He felt a trickle of fluid down his thigh. 'Blood or cum' he thought. Either way he didn't really need to know right now. He pulled his briefs and jeans back up, noting how they didn't need to be unbuttoned to be pulled up. He was wasting away.
He gathered his backpack and began scavenging his room for some clean clothes. It didn't take long for him to realize his clothes were gone. The old man must've tossed them out. He shook his head in disbelief. What hatred drove his father, what self-loathing caused him to treat Jou this way. It didn't matter now, it was done.
He went to the only place he could think of.
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