Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Ambivalence	By : PupshitDesu Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4882 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: We do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any associated properties therein. We do not profit from the creation of this work.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
The elevator doors shut, and Jonouchi sighed, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. When his head tipped back and hit the metal, he closed his eyes, trying to come to terms with what he'd just done. He couldn't tell if he felt terrified or exhilarated. He certainly felt more than a little stupid, but like hell if he was going to admit to that. No, he was a grown man. He could make his own decisions. Even if they were a little on the risky side.
When the elevator stopped, and the doors opened, Jonouchi stepped out and entered the suite. His confliction was forgotten for a few moments when he saw the inside. This hotel room, which Mokuba (a fourteen year old) used just because he felt like it, was larger than Jonouchi's apartment. The living room was larger than Jonouchi's apartment. His apartment didn't even have a living room.
And everything looked so...expensive. An entire wall in the main room was a window, the couches were soft-looking leather, the floor was a nice hardwood, and the rather large kitchen had granite countertops. Fucking granite.
There was a large television in the living room, too. Jonouchi hoped he'd have a chance to use it before he left. He didn't even have cable at his place.
After wandering around just looking at everything for a while, he checked the time. He still had about twelve minutes before he had company. He had the sudden urge to make sure he looked good. He knew he was wearing nice clothes and all, but his hair was almost always messy, and there might be seaweed in his teeth or something...
Not that he should care in the first place. Kitamura wasn't getting shit from him. Which was a phrase he repeated in his mind continuously as he wandered the bathroom, straightening out his clothes and hair and eventually brushing his teeth with single-serving crap he found under the sink. Then he gave up altogether and took a quick shower. How was he supposed to relax if he was dirty, anyway? And if he was going to drink, he'd probably just fall into bed afterward.
He toweled off, got dressed, fooled with his hair again, and then returned to the living room to sit on the couch. And then he waited. It was almost time, so he shouldn't have to wait for long, but it was enough time to feel anxious. Jonouchi forced himself not to think about it. Or anything else, because everything else led to it. So he zoned out on the couch watching TV, and waiting.
Jonouchi was starting to think maybe he was getting stood up when there was a quiet knock at the door. Not an unsure knock, but an I-don't-want-to-get-caught kind of knock. Like Jonouchi's neighbor's clients knocked.
He stood, shutting off the TV using the remote, and he went to answer the door. Out of habit from living in his apartment, he checked the peep first. It was definitely Kitamura, and he was holding a large bottle of something. Probably sake, judging by the color of the bottle and label.
When he opened the door, Kitamura offered him a small smile and stepped inside. He set the bottle of sake on the kitchen counter.
"Sorry I'm late," he apologized. Jonouchi looked at the time on the microwave. He was only late by about five minutes. It had felt like a lot more, though.
"Don't worry about it," Jonouchi tried to seem aloof, "I'm just glad you didn't forget this."
He grabbed the sake bottle and started fishing around in the cabinets for glasses. The large bottle had made Jonouchi think it was cheap alcohol, but when he saw the brand, he realized it wasn't in the slightest. He was fine with that. He only ever had money for cheap shit himself, the kind of crap that got him sick before he was even drunk.
Jonouchi set two regular-sized glasses on the counter and poured until they were full enough for a drop to run over. May as well be generous if it was someone else's money.
"Kanpai," he offered a toast. Before Kitamura even had an opportunity to respond in kind, Jonouchi was downing his glass. He wasn't a slow drinker, and took back the sake in two shots. Two, because the glass was simply too full for one to be plausible. The smooth sting of it didn't hit until he had finished and set the glass down, and it made him shiver briefly.
"Impressive," Kitamura commented, sipping on his own drink. Jonouchi snorted.
"You must not know much about drinking."
He poured another glass. Predictably, Kitamura didn't warn him against it. Jonouchi trusted in his own ability to hold his alcohol, and knew that two glasses probably wouldn't get him too far beyond tipsy. And if it did, well...probably for the best.
They ended up sitting on the couch and setting the bottle on the table in front of them. Jonouchi wasn't getting hit by the alcohol yet, but Kitamura was already tipsy from drinking downstairs. Jonouchi was surprised to see that he was drinking more. Then again, for every full glass Jonouchi took down, Kitamura only sipped a little more on his first.
"Tell me, Jonouchi," Kitamura leaned back against the couch, "Are you acquainted with Otogi Ryuuji?"
"Yeah," Jonouchi replied, standing and going to the kitchen for some water. His throat was feeling dry. "We know each other. Why?"
"He mentioned you earlier, is all."
Jonouchi already knew it was probably Otogi trying to get Kitamura to back out. Maybe that was why he'd been a little late. Considering just how little that lateness had been, Otogi must not have met much success.
"We met in high school and hung out in the same group of friends," Jonouchi informed him before downing his water. Time for round two. He returned to the couch and poured another glass. He was only just starting to get a little buzzed. He noticed that Kitamura had yet to finish his first glass of sake, and made a face.
"You need to stop drinking like a girl," Jonouchi snorted, "I've been through three whole glasses in the time it's taken you to drain yours by a quarter."
Kitamura blinked in surprise, and looked a little scandalized, but he laughed.
"Unfortunately, I think I'm already at my limit for the night. But I didn't want to be rude."
"You'll be just as hungover in the morning," Jonouchi muttered, though he knew that was a lie. The amount of alcohol was proportionate to hangover time. "May as well drink in earnest."
Was this the same guy who was planning to go clubbing when the hotel closed? His caution seemed unwarranted. It wasn't like Jonouchi was going to do anything to him. Maybe he was concerned about getting robbed.
"I did plenty of that earlier," Kitamura insisted, politely declining Jonouchi's goading, "I prefer not to drink too much."
"Suit yourself," Jonouchi rolled his eyes and finished off the glass he was drinking. He was starting to feel more comfortable and less measured. It was probably becoming increasingly obvious that he was street trash, but who cared? With any luck, the realization would make Kitamura less hot for him.
"How did you get this suite, again?"
Hadn't he asked that earlier? Jonouchi started an impeded thought process. The alcohol was finally hitting-and hard, because of the quantity-and his brain was slow. He felt a buzz spreading through him.
"Mokuba's letting me stay the night," he replied before remembering that he'd wanted to keep that to himself. Maybe he'd had enough. Kitamura looked deeply interested.
"Really? Then...the two of you are friends?"
Jonouchi shifted uncomfortably, and thought about lying, but he knew it would be a waste of time.
"Pretty much. We've known each other for a little while. He let me stay here so I could use room service and sleep somewhere-"
He managed to stop himself before saying safe. Kitamura didn't need to know that much about him.
"I see," he regarded Jonouchi with mild amusement. It made him feel unduly embarrassed. What was so funny? "I hope he won't mind my staying the night."
Jonouchi hadn't thought that through. Hadn't Kitamura said he was just staying until he sobered up some, though? Not staying the night...Jonouchi wasn't that much of a moron. He knew testing the waters when he saw it. Before he could say anything to refute Kitamura, however, he was interrupted.
"I apologize if I spoiled your dinner plans."
That was right. He'd never ordered dinner. He'd lost his appetite sometime between hooking up with Kitamura and drinking. The empty stomach was only making the alcohol hit harder, too. His eyes felt heavy, and he was tingling. In a lot of places. Now that he was comfortable, and looking at his tipsy company, he was realizing just how attractive he was. He wasn't a stunner or anything like Kaiba was, but he looked...nice. He was handsome, but a little off, too.
His eyebrows were dark and angled in so dramatically that it made Jonouchi think a little bit of the pointy-eared guy from Star Trek. Kitamura had a nice mouth, more than anything. It was strange, but nice. His lips were dark and their shape made him look like he was smiling a little even at rest. It was a slightly smug smile. Still, when he actually smiled, it wasn't a bad sight. His dark eyes crinkled up at the corners when he grinned. Jonouchi could tell when it was a real smile, because when it wasn't, his skin stayed smooth there like the rest of his face.
"I'll make it up to you."
"What?" Jonouchi realized he'd been zoning out and hoped that Kitamura didn't notice his staring.
"I'll make it up to you," he repeated. He wasn't holding his sake glass anymore. Jonouchi realized that his own glass was missing, too. Where had it gone? "If you like, you can feel free to accompany me to dinner tomorrow evening."
"Um," Jonouchi wasn't sure what to say. Kitamura definitely wasn't just asking because he was so compelled to make up for taking away Jonouchi's dinner time. But should he turn it down, or no? Free food with a wealthy, attractive guy wasn't a bad thing. Especially if he wasn't a giant asshole, like Kaiba was...
"Sure, I'm not gonna turn down free food," Jonouchi heard the words and barely understood that he was saying them. He saw a pleased expression on Kitamura's face, and felt triumphant even as his brain told him he'd fucked up somehow. He was too drunk for this shit. How was he supposed to play this game if he couldn't think straight? Literally. With the alcohol involved, he couldn't control the gay thoughts running through his head, or the occasional tingling in his crotch that started making him think maybe he should actually follow up with Kitamura rather than leading him on.
Jonouchi stood. He needed to go to bed and sleep all this off. Be more sensible in the morning. Kitamura hopefully would be too, or at least would go back to being a creep so Jonouchi wouldn't want him just a little. What could he expect? He'd only just recently found out he was gay, so of course he was a bit interested. But not that interested. No, not that interested...
"Where are you going?" Kitamura asked, his eyes widening a little in surprise when Jonouchi started to stumble toward the bedroom.
"I'm going to bed," Jonouchi replied, and then immediately cursed internally because of how he knew that was going to come off. Kitamura stood as well.
"Already?" He asked, seeming astonished. And amused. That wasn't the combination Jonouchi was hoping for. He'd been hoping for rejected and tired. "You can barely stand. Let me help you back."
Jonouchi complained in his head, but his mouth's response was so slow that he couldn't move it to speak until Kitamura had already guided him halfway there. And by then, it was too late, and Jonouchi had realized that he actually did need help. He was falling over even with assistance.
He sat down on the bed the moment it was near enough, and stared up at Kitamura as he swayed back and forth a little. How could he tell him to get out without sounding too rude? The guy had been nice to him, after all. And bought him expensive alcohol. And Jonouchi had kind of led him on. He couldn't just tell him to pack up and take couch duty, at least not in so many words.
"Jonouchi," Kitamura addressed. Jonouchi looked up at him, not realizing he'd looked away in the first place. Kitamura was closer than before. Jonouchi deduced that he must be leaning down. Leaning toward him, meeting his eyes. The deep, almost-black spheres were surprisingly soft. His eyes were wrinkling at the corners, and Jonouchi realized he was smiling.
"You look concerned," Kitamura's voice came again, but Jonouchi couldn't see his mouth. It was out of his direct frame of vision. He felt something warm and moist on his lips, smelled something he identified as wine.
"Don't worry."
Kitamura moved, and Jonouchi's brain made him close his eyes and tense up in anticipation of a collision. When there was none, he relaxed, and realized that he was being kissed. He felt hands on his shoulders, hands with a firm grip. A hold that made him feel like he wasn't allowed to move.
Jonouchi felt dizzy and warm. He smelled cologne that carried the scent of sweet orange and anise and cocoa butter, felt Kitamura's dark lips guiding his as they kissed. Was this really his first kiss with a man? And here he was, too drunk to really know what was going on. He figured out that he was lying down, and getting there was why he'd been dizzy. The bed was under his back and his head. Kitamura was on top of him, chest pressing down on him as his hands held his wrists against the bed.
He squirmed a little. He didn't know how comfortable he was with being held down like that. But Kitamura's hands were stiff, and heavy like cuffs immobilizing his wrists, and he gave in as he felt light nipping on his bottom lip. It wasn't like it felt bad. Now that he actually knew what was going on, it was starting to be enjoyable. Kitamura wasn't bad at kissing. A little rough, in Jonouchi's opinion, but he kept a good rhythm and didn't try to stop him from reciprocating. Which was good. Jonouchi knew he was the receiver here, but he couldn't bring himself to be a tuna in bed.
He was still a man.
He felt lips on his neck, drawing a light and ticklish trail. It made him shy away and squirm in discomfort at first, but eventually the sensations made him arch up for more. His eyes were still shut, and he felt disoriented. He didn't understand directions, and every time Kitamura touched him, it was like a surprise.
His hands were free, he noticed. He figured that one out after he felt Kitamura unbuttoning his shirt. Jonouchi's face heated up. He wasn't embarrassed, but he was unsure. He still wasn't quite on board with what they were doing, but he didn't have time to think it over. The fact that he was actually getting really turned on didn't help. He'd never had the hots like this with a girl, and it made a familiar sense of shame pass over him. Then he felt sucking on his nipple, which was surprising enough to make him forget.
He felt sensation passing through him. It was subtle at first, while Kitamura sucked and lightly nipped at him, but eventually he started craving more. Something heavier. His breathing got ragged when Kitamura slid his hands slowly over his sides. It tickled, and he liked it even though he wasn't quite comfortable with it.
Jonouchi opened his eyes briefly when the touching stopped altogether. Kitamura was peeling off his jacket and working his tie loose as he stood there looking down. Jonouchi felt scrutinized. Kitamura, despite being a little drunk, had a calculating expression on his face as he stared at Jonouchi's torso. Not that it wasn't something to look at. Jonouchi was in good shape, and he knew it. Still, it made him feel like he was a piece of meat.
He shook the feeling when Kitamura managed to finish stripping his upper body. He looked fairly toned, though he was hardly as muscular as Jonouchi was. At least he was in good enough shape. Jonouchi would hate himself if he ended up doing this with some overweight, married businessman. He started to shift up on the bed, thinking that it would be more comfortable if they both had room to lie down, but Kitamura held him still with a hand that shot out so fast, it made Jonouchi jump. He returned to lying still. Kitamura seemed fine with doing all the work, and Jonouchi was too drunk and disoriented to argue.
Another rough kiss was planted on him, this one more heated than before. Jonouchi felt bare skin pressed against his own, and then something hot against his groin. Kitamura had pulled his legs open. He was pushing against him, grinding on him hard enough that Jonouchi gasped and broke the kiss before being pulled back into it. Kitamura's hand was in his hair, holding his head in place and tugging just a little. Not too roughly. It made Jonouchi aroused in a strange way, having someone take him over like that. Having to be vulnerable.
It would be better if he didn't feel that survival instinct kicking in. He didn't quite trust Kitamura. His actions danced back and forth over the line of sexy aggression and true aggression. Jonouchi didn't know if it was because he was feeling it out, or because he was trying to disguise how rough he wanted to be.
Either way, he was essentially helpless at this point, and didn't mind as much as he wished he did. He gave in so easily. He reciprocated the kisses, even moaned a little when he had a chance to exhale afterward. He started to arch up, trying to make their bodies grind together harder. He held tightly onto Kitamura's upper arms, pleased when he felt a little muscle tone there.
When there was another break in contact, he didn't look. He didn't have to. He felt Kitamura's hand on the front of his pants, rubbing the obvious lump in his slacks before unzipping them. Jonouchi breathed a sigh of relief when the constraint was removed. Then he realized that his pants and underwear had been completely whisked away, and got extremely nervous. He wasn't ready to go there yet. He didn't even know what they were doing, he couldn't just do something like that.
He tensed up, and looked at Kitamura, who had dropped his own business slacks. Jonouchi tried not to stare at his cock. He didn't want to give the wrong impression in any sense, and he definitely didn't want to think about the stiff, pulsing thing serving its intended purpose.
Jonouchi made a grumbled sound of surprise when he was unceremoniously flipped over, then gasped sharply when he felt a finger pushing at his ass. He clutched the sheets, closing his eyes tightly. He wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to ask Kitamura to stop, but something prevented him from doing so. Something he couldn't identify. Maybe it was pride, or stubbornness, or just his curiosity and desire, but the combination made him tense. He was nervous. He was so nervous, and he was sure it was going to hurt. It always did, in yaoi eromanga. People joked about it all the time. But it was supposed to feel good after a while, right? He'd just have to...tough it out.
Kitamura's finger shoved into him up to the knuckle, and it was an invasive, stinging pain like he'd never felt before. It wasn't worse than most things he'd endured, really, but it was persistent, and in a delicate place. A place that wasn't built for having things pushed into it. Jonouchi cried out, his voice strained and choked off.
He heard a quiet, soothing shushing sound, felt a hand rubbing his back. The finger pulled out and slid back in. There was a wet feeling. Jonouchi figured it was probably lube. Maybe Kitamura had been carrying one of those little single-use tubes in his pocket. Hopefully he had a condom in there, too.
Even though Jonouchi wasn't really ready for it, Kitamura's finger kept sliding deeper. Jonouchi's body didn't seem to be keeping him out, so he couldn't really be blamed for assuming it was fine, he supposed. Jonouchi was biting his lip and tugging on the sheets, trying not to cry out. His face was twisted up into a pained expression. He could feel a sensation that was pleasant, but it was almost numbed by the stinging.
Kitamura pushed two fingers in, and Jonouchi released a strained growl, trying to ask without asking for him to stop. To at least slow down. He felt a hand on his hip, and brief, light kisses on his shoulder.
"Relax," came a quiet command, "You're overreacting. Try not to panic."
Jonouchi fell limp, panting. He'd been gritting his teeth, and now the molars felt sore. He continued to force himself to lie still as Kitamura fingered him. Jonouchi's sphincters were squeezing so hard that it hurt. They clenched when Kitamura tried to push inward, but he overrode them entirely. His breathing was shallow, and whatever arousal he'd felt before was ebbing away quickly. He felt like a giant pussy for it, too, but he couldn't do anything. No matter how he tried to relax and rationalize, he couldn't out-think the kind of pain he was feeling.
He could deal with the uncomfortable stretching. That was an ache in his muscles. He could handle that. But the stinging. Like salt in a wound. He could manage for a short time, but it just kept going.
Jonouchi's body was still clenching, but his muscles had gotten elastic enough for Kitamura's fingers to pass without trouble. When he pulled them out, Jonouchi sighed in relief and lay panting. He wasn't sure what Kitamura was doing, at first. He just heard rustling. Then he heard tearing, like paper, and when he looked back, he saw Kitamura putting on a condom. Thank god. Jonouchi didn't want semen inside him. Kitamura was American, but at least he still had enough sense to protect from STDs and not make a mess.
He caught his breath when his hips were pulled up and back until he was on his knees, his face still pressed against the bed. Were they really going to do it like that? It was so impersonal. And insulting.
But he didn't want to face Kitamura, either. He didn't want to feel those eyes on him while he was crying out in pain.
He forced himself to take deep breaths and relax as much as he could when he felt something hard and fleshy at his entrance. His efforts were immediately made null when Kitamura pushed in. He didn't do it fast, even, but it was too much, and he either didn't know or didn't care. He just kept pushing. Jonouchi wanted to scream. The awful pressure and stinging pain was making him short of breath, making his vision turn colors, making his knees weak. He needed something to grab, but all he had were the bed sheets, which he was already twisting as much as his twitching fingers could manage.
Jonouchi shuddered and heard a noise that was almost a sob leave his throat. He wasn't crying, but it was the only expression of what he felt that his body could vocalize, he supposed. Kitamura didn't move. Jonouchi could feel his hips pressing against his ass and realized he must have just shoved himself balls-deep. His breathing started to even out as they stayed there, joined and unmoving, and his face relaxed a little. He had been cringing hard before, his teeth bared as he drooled into the bed a little.
Kitamura started making short thrusts, pulling out and pushing back in by a tiny amount. It made Jonouchi tense again, especially when his rectum clenched painfully around an unyielding phallus. But there was something else, something more pleasant that broke through. It helped him breathe less choppily, and made his muscles start to give up and relax.
He thought maybe Kitamura was rubbing against his prostate, whether intentionally or not. At least it was working, which was what mattered. Jonouchi wanted the pain to stop soon. He didn't know how long Kitamura would last, even if he was older, and he didn't want it to end before the pleasure part. The part that was supposed to feel really good and made boys cry in yaoi all the time. Not that he wanted to cry. He'd never get over it if he did. But he wanted the elation.
Kitamura was making longer thrusts. They were hard and shocked Jonouchi's body every time he hit the end of his rectum, which was highly unpleasant, but at least his sphincter muscles seemed to have given up protecting him. The stinging remained and made them clench painfully on occasion, but the pressure was enjoyable now. It wracked him with sensation when Kitamura slid in and out, yet it wasn't enough to give him a boner again. He wasn't even halfway there.
Realizing he wasn't going to get any help, Jonouchi managed to remember how to use his hands, and started fondling himself as Kitamura held his hips tightly. Stroking himself helped him get over the pain. The combination made everything more enjoyable, and the stinging became less noticeable in his mind. His breathing was shallow but even, and he stroked faster. He almost had a full hard-on again. Kitamura had picked up the pace, and while it made Jonouchi's muscles ache, the increased sensation and sharp jolts of pleasure at erratic intervals made him more aroused.
His face was twisted up in an odd combination of pleasure and pain, and he started to moan when Kitamura shoved into him. They were short, quiet, breathless moans, but moans all the same. He was distracted from the pleasure when the stinging got worse suddenly and Kitamura's hold started to bruise his hips, though; still, he was afraid to stop jerking off. It was keeping the painful feelings at bay for the moment.
It didn't help that Jonouchi couldn't focus. Shit he should have been thinking about before Kitamura came upstairs was running through his mind. The party, his rash decision-making, Otogi's warning. Kaiba staring at him from the corner. It infuriated him. So he was only worth noticing when Kaiba felt like throwing disapproval at him? Couldn't be bothered to say hello like a decent person, but he was fine butting in when it suited him...
He remembered how different Kaiba had looked. His lips had been relaxed, rather than drawn into a tight line, and darkened from the alcohol passing over them. It made Jonouchi wonder if they'd look like that after kisses. Or if his blue eyes would be soft and warm when he was in bed with someone, the dark lashes curving low as his lids closed.
He shouldn't be thinking about Kaiba, of all people. Not while he was fucking someone else, certainly. But it worked for him on a scary level. Even imagining that it was him instead made him so much hotter it was ridiculous. He started working up a bit of a sweat and getting lost in the pleasure, and the feeling of flying and getting heavier at the same time. He hated himself for it. Why would he be all right with Kaiba causing him that kind of struggle, and not the man he was with now?
It didn't matter. Jonouchi wanted to get off, and it felt too good to jerk it while he was being penetrated. It hurt, it stung, but there was so much pleasant sensation in it. And when he thought about Kaiba, it only got better. He stopped questioning, deciding to take it as a blessing and just let himself fantasize. Let himself imagine Kaiba's hands holding him too hard, his cock pounding into him, and his hips making a fleshy slapping sound against his ass.
He could hear himself crying out. Sharp jolts of sensation shot through his groin so hard it almost hurt. That spot inside him that made everything better was getting struck again, at random intervals, and it made him twist his back. No amount of writhing or shouting was enough to help him contain the feelings, but it was easier than trying to stay quiet. His vision started to go white as Kaiba sped up again, thrusting harder than ever, and so frantically that Jonouchi knew he was about to come.
And then he came. He'd bitten the sheet at some point, and between his tugging free hand and the way he twisted his head around, the fibers ended up being torn apart. Jonouchi felt warm, slick semen on his chest, dribbling over his hand, and knew it was probably in the sheets too. He had practically screamed, his eyes wide as he stared blindly at the wall, and he shuddered afterward. He wanted to collapse, but he and Kitamura were still joined. He didn't have to wait for very long. Kitamura finished after a few more strokes, and Jonouchi heard him sigh as he slid in and out slowly to top it off before he pulled out.
Jonouchi fell over on his side, trying to keep his messy hand from getting on the bed clothes. He panted, and heard Kitamura wandering toward the bathroom. Probably to throw away the condom and wash his hands.
He didn't have the capacity to think anymore when Kitamura returned, and barely noticed the shuffling sounds at the foot of the bed until he heard footsteps leaving the room. Jonouchi propped himself up, shocked.
"Wait!"
Kitamura turned, looking surprised and a little confused. Jonouchi felt a absolutely silly under that gaze.
"You aren't staying?"
No response. Just laughter.
"That isn't a good idea," Kitamura replied when he was done chuckling. Jonouchi felt like he was shrinking inside. He wasn't expecting romance or some bullshit, but he wasn't expecting to be fucked and abandoned, either.
"I left my number on the nightstand."
Jonouchi blinked in surprise, and was going to ask something else, but Kitamura closed the bedroom door and could be heard walking across the living room. He was leaving.
Jonouchi scrambled clumsily off the bed and went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Wash his everything. His hands, face, back, his ass, his soul. Nothing felt right. He was so drunk that he was stumbling around, and still he couldn't stand the dirty feeling. He ended up taking another shower and just standing under the hot water, unable to stop his dazed brain from replaying everything.
His ass hurt. There was a muscle soreness, like he'd overworked them, but the stinging was there, too. When he'd tried wiping at it with toilet paper before the shower, there had been blood. Not much, but enough to denote a cut. Which explained the "salt in a wound" sensation.
And then there was the lube. So much lube that it was no wonder Kitamura managed to get inside despite Jonouchi's body protesting. It was so uncomfortable. He couldn't take it. It dripped out of him and tickled its way down to his inner thighs while he showered, only to be washed away. Jonouchi tried his best to clean up everything. He couldn't feel anything inside, really, so he could only hope that nothing else would come out of there while he was lying down.
He stumbled, naked, back to the bedroom after the shower. He tried not to think. To just shut down mentally and emotionally. His brain wouldn't let him. No amount of alcohol could erase that experience. He felt traumatized, or at least scarred. The fact that he'd just fucked some guy at least ten years older because he was there, and because he was drunk...and too proud and vindictive for his own good. Fuck Kaiba for looking at him like that. Like he was disappointed in him or something. It wasn't even his business...
And why did he have to think of Kaiba during? Why him, of all people? It felt like handing a mighty victory to that son of a bitch, to have thought about him during his first time. His first time that he'd had, drunk with a practical stranger. And it had been so painful at the beginning that he'd wanted to scream. It wasn't even like pain from a knife or fists that got dull over time as his body's natural painkillers kicked in. It had been constant, sharp, unrelenting, and alien. And he still wasn't sure if Kitamura had just not known, or not cared.
Did it really matter either way? He'd brought this on himself. That was probably the worst part; that even as he wanted to wallow in horror and self-pity, a cruel part of his mind was laughing at him. Laughing at the tragedy of just how stupid he was. Kitamura hadn't even wanted to stay. Jonouchi shouldn't have wanted him to stay. It was just a hook-up. Kitamura wanted his rocks off, and Jonouchi was stupid enough to bend over and let himself be used. He'd downed all that sake earlier, and he should have known where that would end.
Kitamura had told him to shower, and he'd done it, trying to pretend the whole time that it was his own idea. He couldn't believe himself.
Jonouchi ended up just curling into as small a ball as he could under the blankets and tried to push his thoughts from his mind. If he didn't actively think for long enough, the alcohol would take over and he'd fall asleep. It was cowardly, and it wouldn't make the problems any less when he'd have to contemplate them in the morning, but at least then he'd be sober. He could make himself man up. He could fish up some pride.
But not now. Now he was ashamed, used, and overcome with a deep sense of despair that was made all the worse by his drunkenness. He was thankful when he blacked out.

When Kaiba woke up the next day, he felt like someone had dropped bricks on his head the night before, the headache was so bad. Usually he was smart enough to down some Gatorade before passing out in his bed, but apparently he drank too much to remember to and Mokuba was ignorant of that little trick. Opening his eyes, he could see his little brother sleeping on the other side of his king bed, still in the expensive suit.
No matter. He got up and groaned, trying to massage his temples before getting off the bed. The drapes were open, and the Japanese sun was far too much to deal with so early in the day, so he quickly shut them, cursing the light before stumbling into the bathroom to clean up. No one needed to see him this hungover when he checked out, and his brother would probably tease him relentlessly if he didn't clean up and straighten out.
Dammit, looking into the bathroom mirror, he realized that he was still in his Gucci suit. He took the sun glasses out of the breast pocket, and unbuttoning and hanging the jacket on the coat hanger behind the door, he took off the dress shirt as well and then the pants. At least he was only wearing socks to bed, Mokuba must have taken off his shoes, and getting the tie off and then his underwear, he stood in front of the mirror staring at himself naked before getting under the shower.
He hated himself a little. Usually he was a master of strict self-control, but Kaiba knew it was quite possible he just sat there the entire party drinking alone before Mokuba collected him at the very end. It was something he'd done before, the hotel staff having to send him up to his suite the times his brother wasn't around. Trying to fix his hair, he wasn't even sure why he did it to himself, but he did know he really hated parties. Social gatherings. All of it.
Although his own were usually more interesting. They didn't involve tennis matches being played on televisions, and the guest list was more impressive. He didn't bother inviting boring suits who just talked about their old fortunes, but young engineers and scientists who actually had something worth talking about. Geniuses like himself, although none of them were quite at his intellectual level.
But they were at least interesting to talk to.
Not like the old stuffed suits the Germans invited. God, he hated those European stuck-ups so much, how they tried speaking to him in shit Japanese and smiling at him like he was supposed to give them attention. It was suspicious behavior, and they knew it, coming over to him in droves so he had to chase them away with sharp German to make them disappear from his corner of the room.
Then there was Sigfried himself. That stunt at the convention was duly noted, but Kaiba was not going to support his new duel disk. There was no way he was going to dumb down his creation, just so some amateurs could get a few more toys. His technology was for professionals, and if the lower ranking duelists couldn't afford the duel disks, so be it. He wasn't going to start building low quality knock-offs and tarnish his name when there were free dueling arenas to play at all over the world.
Hell, Kaiba Land still had them, and he didn't see any reason to overflow the market with low quality equipment. Especially if Sigfried was going to need his approval to do so.
Fuck him.
The German could figure something else out. He wasn't stupid, even if he wasn't quite as intelligent as Kaiba was. Some of his inventions were actually good, but Kaiba knew he could make them better. But it was an unfair advantage, how smart he was, and his gift for tinkering electronics and making them ten times better without even really having to try. It was a curse almost. His brain was programmed to engineer everything that was presented to him, to create the impossible, yet he couldn't stand humanity for short periods of time without wanting to numb himself with alcohol.
It was a problem he wasn't sure how to fix.
But getting under the hot water of the shower settled him down some. It felt good, the feeling of water sliding down his skin, especially after sleeping in his clothes. Usually he just had on a pair of boxers. He turned around to wash out his hair, and he tried to remember the night before more clearly while putting shampoo into his hands.
Well, remember how exactly he got to bed. After Otogi (of all people) started harassing him, he blacked out. He couldn't remember a damn thing after that occurred, and the only thing he could remember from that conversation was Otogi telling him to go find Jonouchi before he did something really stupid. That they were friends, and he needed to look out for him.
And Kaiba had corrected him by saying they were never friends and Jonouchi was grown enough to make his own decisions.
Otogi got mad and ran off. That was all he could remember. Nothing important, of course, just another pointless conversation in a sea of stupid he was subjected to the night before. At least it was now over and he wouldn't have to make another appearance until his own convention kicked started. And by then, he'd be far more motivated to be social with his guests.
After getting out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, Kaiba sat at the foot of the bed where Mokuba was sleeping. He used a small towel to dry his hair before ruffling Mokuba's. He stirred and batted his hand away. Smiling a little, Kaiba turned away from him and finished up, disappearing into the closet to get dressed in his usual black ensemble before reappearing and shaking Mokuba to get him up.
"Go take a shower, I'm ordering breakfast downstairs."
There was the usual groaning and eye rolling. Mokuba was now a teenager, and he seemed to have developed a love for sleeping in, but Kaiba wasn't going to allow him that luxury. He wanted to eat downstairs, study the people who were frequenting at his hotel, and maybe read the newspaper with his coffee. It would be more interesting than staying locked up in his hotel suite, and maybe he'd find Otogi or someone to harass over his meal.
"Mokuba, get up before I remove you from the bed," he warned, shaking the teen's shoulder several times before he finally got up, glaring and disappearing into the bathroom.
Success.
Getting up himself, Kaiba wandering into the kitchen and drank several glasses of water before feeling himself return to his normal state. His hair was still somewhat messy, from drying, and he'd need to comb it down before going downstairs, but at least he didn't look too bad. Only the darkness around his eyes gave away his rough night.
While Mokuba showered, Kaiba knocked on the door before walking in, using a comb to fix his hair and brushing his teeth before disappearing again. He didn't want his younger brother getting all indignant about his "privacy", and telling him he'd be down stairs drinking coffee in the hotel lobby.
He didn't want to wait for Mokuba to get through his morning preening session. The kid took too long, like he had someone worth impressing he needed to get all dressed up for, so grabbing his wallet and keys, Kaiba left silently, going down the elevator.
Thankfully the lobby was quiet when he reached there; sitting down at one of the seats where he could keep an eye on the front desk in case anyone interesting came by. One of his staff instantly recognized him and asked if there was anything she could get for him, and Kaiba just ordered a coffee. He needed some caffeine to wake himself up, but he wasn't so hungry that he couldn't wait another half an hour for Mokuba to show up.
Then a rather curious thing happened.
Jonouchi Katsuya appeared. He looked much disheveled, but that wasn't surprising. Usually he didn't look that well put together,. At least he wasn't wearing formal attire anymore. It didn't suit him, and the t-shirt with jeans and sneakers was something Kaiba at least felt far more comfortable seeing him dressed in than that black suit Jonouchi looked all awkward in the night before.
Snorting, he stared for a while, waiting for his coffee to come. It was odd, what he remembered of him the night before. Jonouchi talking to that Kitamura guy before disappearing from the party. But it wasn't any of Kaiba's business. Who knew, maybe they had some sort of arrangement. It wasn't that uncommon a thing and it explained why Jonouchi's classless self would be at the party. He wasn't anyone worth talking to, but if someone found him appealing enough to pay for it, well. Kaiba could respect that. It wasn't happening in his party, after all.
Jonouchi didn't look that pleased to see him. He was actually somewhat hostile, openly glaring at him like he was offended. Kaiba just scoffed, taking his drink once it was given to him, and looking up above his cup, he just kept staring, feeling as if he was being silently challenged by the moron in his own establishment.
He didn't care if Mokuba chose to be friends with him. Jonouchi was still too stupid to function, in his book.
It appeared that he was trying to leave, and getting up, Kaiba decided to just poke the hornet's nest to see what kind of response he'd get from the man who looked more worn out and hungover than he did.
"I don't remember storing alcohol in Mokuba's suite," he said, leaning against the front desk as Jonouchi appeared to be trying to avoid eye contact, "You look terrible."
Jonouchi didn't reply immediately. Too many things ran through his head, enough that it brought on more of an ache than he already had. He couldn't speak. His jaw was clenched and he felt like his breath was getting caught in his throat. It was probably for the best. Why give Kaiba more ammunition? Nothing he said was going to make him piss off, especially since he could probably tell how bad a night he'd had.
He felt so worn-out and disgusting. At least he didn't feel like crawling into a hole and dying like he had the night before. He'd managed to salvage himself that morning despite the hangover and his own lingering self-pity. Hell if he was going to let last night fuck him up today.
Kaiba merely snorted when he didn't get a response back from his baiting, losing interest and looking toward the elevator for his brother to appear. Taking a sip from his drink, he glanced at Jonouchi again, noting the dark circles around his eyes and what looked like bruises along his neck and collarbones.
Huh. Maybe he actually did make some tryst the night before, and it just didn't turn out as he had planned. Not that Kaiba cared, people could make money however they wanted, he just didn't have the sexual desperation to resort to hiring hookers.
"Do you have cab money?" He asked, taking out his wallet, "Mokuba would get upset if I just turned you out and you didn't have a ride home. Please tell me you didn't spend it all on drinks last night... illegally, I might add."
"What if I did?" Jonouchi replied, his tone so flat and cold and quiet that he felt it didn't even sound like him. He still didn't bother looking at Kaiba. He could feel his stare without glancing his way. "Your hotel would be held accountable even more than I would. How I spent my money should be the least of your concerns."
He started walking toward the front doors. He was so done with this. He didn't need Kaiba's toying right now. He didn't have the strength left in him to fight back, either. Kaiba was just trying to kick him while he was down. Trying to bully him...
"I know my hotel didn't give you anything," Kaiba replied, chuckling darkly to himself, "I saw you leave after talking with that friend of yours. Surprised me, actually, that you'd be the type to do that, but I guess I should have seen that coming a long time ago..."
And turning heel to sit back in the lobby, he immediately lost interest in bothering Jonouchi, who looked far too defeated to beat around anyways. He just snorted in self-assurance that he was right about the night before and sat in his chair, closing his eyes while sipping his coffee and waiting for his brother's company.
He hated eating alone.
Jonouchi had made it to the door at last, but ended up stopping there rather than taking the step that would have him home free. It was as if something was slowly churning in his brain, making him angrier by the second regardless of how he tried to quell it. The more it sank in that Kaiba had actually insulted him like that, the more it bewildered and infuriated him, and in the end he turned around to approach Kaiba's table.
He didn't let what he felt show. He was still too tired for his face to twist up in anger anyway, and he was partly thankful for it. Kaiba would have just started smirking in his infuriating way if he saw anger. His neutrality would at least keep him guessing.
He stood in front of Kaiba's table, staring down at him with weary eyes. He was reading a newspaper, and had a mug of coffee sitting nearby that was so hot it was still releasing a little steam off the top. It was like a classic scene of the masculine figure. Or it would be, if Kaiba wasn't an enormous prick.
"Just a tip for the future," Jonouchi muttered, not breaking eye contact as he reached for the coffee. He didn't even know what he was doing. He must have legitimately snapped. "Don't make assumptions about me and how I live my life, you fucker."
He turned the coffee over in a sudden motion. He didn't even see the liquid leave the cup and hit Kaiba's lap, it had fallen so fast. And then he ran, which amazed him. It started as a brisk walk as he left the lobby, Kaiba's angry voice reaching him the whole time. The moment he got out the lobby door, however, he was in a full sprint. His survival instincts must have been trying to save his stupid ass from just standing there and staring at what he'd done with a numb expression on his face.
Jonouchi dashed all the way to the metro and caught a train, half expecting to run into one of Kaiba's men in black. Let them come. Getting into a fight would make him feel better, even if he lost. The prison time might not be as nice, though. As if he could get convicted. Half the world wanted to dump hot coffee in Kaiba Seto's lap. Jonouchi was just the only person with enough balls to actually carry through.
He needed to get home, and soon. He needed food and a lot of water, and it was probably best that he locked himself up before he did anything else that could be classified as a felony.
Back in the lobby, Kaiba let out a whole string of curses before chasing after Jonouchi, reaching the entry door and sticking his head out but realizing there were really too many people out on the street to chase after him.
It didn't matter. Crumpling the styrofoam cup in his hand, he growled before leaving to his room, surprising Mokuba with his near-insane expression as his pupils became smaller and his irises enlarged.
"Don't invite that moron Jonouchi here again, got it? I don't want to see his Jap trash face in my office, or anywhere else that's my property. If I see that idiotic fuck ever again, I'm going to kill him..."
Mokuba just stared at him stupidly. He didn't seem aware of anything that was being said to him, just nodding his head up and down before leaving the room. Probably for safety. Kaiba wasn't going to take offense, and going into the kitchen and finding a pack of cigarettes he hid for these extreme situations, he went outside to smoke as his genitals stopped screaming in pain.
Thank god the coffee wasn't that hot, or he'd have a bigger issue than just discomfort. Opening the package and lighting the cigarette once he had it in his mouth, he took a long drag before letting it out, standing alone on the balcony scowling. Sure, he could always charge the idiot with assault and battery, but it wouldn't be worth the effort. It would be an easy win, actually, and all it would do is make him feel better momentarily before Mokuba got all bent out of shape over it.
Friends...
He lost interest in the cigarette rather quickly, flicking it off the ledge before going back inside. Mokuba hated it when he smoked, and he usually only ever did that when he was close to raging on someone. And he didn't want to snap on his brother, so depleting his health a little wasn't going to kill him.
Besides, the smell was rather awful, and it no longer even appealed to him after quitting.
He'd get back at Jonouchi. Eventually. They were bound to run into each other again soon enough.
Jonouchi ended up riding the train without incident. People who came and went from his part of town knew better than to try fucking with people unless they had the punches to back it up. He'd like to see how Kaiba managed surrounded by kids from where he lived. Jonouchi was upper class in comparison, and only because he'd learned some decency from Yugi and had been cultured a little forcefully by Anzu. But the guys who lived around him, and especially the gangs, didn't even need the excuse of mouthing off to beat on someone. Mouthing off just set in stone that you would be beaten.
It was unlikely that he'd run into the street gangs in the middle of the day, so he walked to his apartment without feeling too paranoid. A couple of morons with knives might be dumb enough to come after him, but they'd be in for a surprise if they did. The gangs, while there wasn't really anyone around who could or would stop them, preferred to come out at night when they hunted.
When he got back to his apartment, he kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the floor mat he called a bed. It was nowhere near as comfortable as the hotel bed, and probably wasn't going to make his aching pains any better, but whatever. He'd had to lie on this thing after getting the shit beaten out of him before. This was nothing. He could pop some painkiller or aspirin that night and just try to sleep it off.
He only wondered what he was going to do for food. He didn't have a lot left in the kitchen, and he sure as hell couldn't afford to go grocery shopping yet. He'd have to wait for his next check that Thursday. Even if he did have the money, he wasn't sure he could handle the walk. He'd end up walking back looking exhausted and carrying bags, which would make him a target faster than if he had a bulls-eye on his back.
Jonouchi sat up, wincing and gritting his teeth when a sharp pain pervaded his lower back from his tailbone up. It wasn't bone pain, like in his spine. He'd had pain there before, and knew that this was entirely different. It was muscle pain. Flesh pain. It was in probably the worst kind of place. He'd never felt it before, for obvious reasons, so it took him a minute to wrap his head around it and tough it out, but he still managed to get himself to stand up.
He sighed as he looked through his kitchen cabinets. It looked like he had the choice of either box ramen, or box ramen for lunch. There wasn't anything substantial for dinner, and he couldn't afford to buy meat to cook at the moment, so he'd have to split one box into two meals. If he had two today, he'd run out before payday. At least he'd had a large breakfast at the hotel. He only wished he'd thought to order more food to try packing up and taking home for dinner.
His other option was taking up Kitamura on his offer of dinner that evening. His phone number had been burning a hole in Jonouchi's pocket ever since he'd shoved it in there that morning. Assuming it was even a real number. His feelings about calling Kitamura were mixed; he wasn't sure how he was supposed to talk to the guy. They'd had drunken sex the night before that had been too rough.
Even with what little Jonouchi knew about gay sex, he was aware that it wasn't supposed to hurt to sit in the morning as much as it did, and he shouldn't have so many bruises. He shouldn't be a few shades paler, and have dark circles under his eyes. He looked like the girls that the Rintama gang used to slip roofies. The way they always looked the day after...
Jonouchi grumbled to himself and decided to just go back to bed. He didn't have work until the next day, thank all that was holy; he had today to nurse his wounds. He was still exhausted and felt the combined pain of what he'd done the night before, and an untreated hangover. He'd rather just sleep for a few more hours and not have to deal with it. When he woke up, he could decide about Kitamura. He supposed it would depend more on what his stomach said than anything.
His stomach ended up winning. Jonouchi had called Kitamura about an hour after waking up, relieved when the number had turned out to be real. Kitamura suggested some restaurant uptown, and Jonouchi wasn't complaining. He didn't want to go on a fucking dinner date with an older businessman anywhere that his neighbors might see him.
He hadn't bothered with the ramen. If Kitamura was buying, he'd just shove as much food into himself as he could during dinner and save that extra box for another day. Jonouchi knew that something always came up, and having a little spare food put back wasn't going to hurt him.
When he got to the restaurant Kitamura had specified, he looked around the place to see if he was there yet. It looked like he wasn't, so Jonouchi picked a seat in a corner, behind some dividers, where someone just walking in wouldn't be able to see them. He was probably being paranoid, but it was better safe than sorry with this kind of thing. He didn't want anyone he knew catching him in here.
The restaurant was about the usual Japanese fare. It was one of the places that brought a hot plate and fresh food to the customers so they could fry themselves with their choices of sauce. Jonouchi didn't usually get fresh food period, so he was perfectly fine with frying it up himself. He liked things a little better done than most people prepared it anyway, so it was probably for the best.
When the server came to ask for his order, he said he was waiting for someone. He didn't want to get something and end up offending Kitamura, since he was buying. Best not to spend his money for him, especially since he wasn't even at the restaurant yet. Jonouchi had a lingering anxiety that he just wouldn't show.
His anxiety was unnecessary. Kitamura arrived about ten minutes after he did and knelt at the opposite side of the table. He offered a small smile in greeting.
"Have you ordered?" He asked immediately. Jonouchi was used to people offering a formal greeting before conversation, though he hardly ever did so himself. But Kitamura was American, so his etiquette was probably different. It was perfectly fine by Jonouchi. He didn't want some upper-class asshole being a little chit about his manners.
"I didn't want to order before you got here," Jonouchi shrugged. Kitamura looked a little confused, but his ever-present amusement remained.
"You didn't have to wait on me," he laughed, "I would have paid regardless."
"Good to know," Jonouchi managed an impish smirk. He still wasn't quite comfortable. He felt strained, and wanted to bring up what he felt was an elephant in the room. Kitamura hardly seemed to be similarly affected. He was casual, and seemed to be acting like his usual self. But not drunk. Jonouchi was glad that he didn't return to being a jerk like that first day when he sobered up.
"You can order," Kitamura offered, "I'll eat about anything, so I'll leave it up to you."
"Oh," Jonouchi looked at the menu. He wanted to order fucking everything. "Uh...what's the spending limit?"
"Spending limit? Don't worry about expense, just order what you want."
"You're only saying that 'cuz you don't know me," Jonouchi smirked, but he wasn't going to turn down the offer just to be polite. He was fucking hungry and poor. Like hell if he wasn't gonna let some rich guy fill his belly.
When the waiter came back and Jonouchi ordered, he saw Kitamura's eyebrows rise, but fortunately he seemed to find it funnier than anything. Jonouchi didn't comment. Even though he wasn't concerned about etiquette, he was embarrassed. He didn't like being judged for eating too much or being a pig. The people of Japan were very critical about weight and weren't afraid to tell someone to stop eating so much if they were "fat" or to force feed them if they were "too skinny". Jonouchi was about right, even though his body type made him bulky by his country's standards.
Kitamura didn't seem to care, but he was American. He let the waiter take their menus and waited for him to leave before speaking.
"You sounded surprised when I answered the phone earlier," he noted, "Were you expecting someone else?"
"No," Jonouchi replied bluntly, "But I was a little suspicious that the number you gave me was fake. The area code was weird and I wasn't sure you actually planned on seeing me again."
"Oh, I definitely planned on it," Kitamura laughed, "As for the area code...it's an international phone, not a local one. That's probably why it confused you."
"Hmm," Jonouchi scratched at a knot in the wooden table with his index finger. He didn't really want to make small talk. He felt awkward. He wanted to discuss the night before, but they were in public, and he didn't want to embarrass Kitamura. The guy might ditch him right there for being that stupid.
"I actually wasn't sure you'd call," Kitamura admitted. Jonouchi looked up. "You didn't seem that enthused about me giving you my number last night."
"I wasn't that "enthused" about you leaving afterward, actually," Jonouchi replied a bit snippily. He was slightly bitter about it, even though he knew he shouldn't be. Kitamura looked a little surprised, but he didn't get angry with him.
"As I said last night, it wasn't a good idea," he explained calmly, "I didn't want to be seen going in that night and not leaving until morning."
"Oh," Jonouchi hadn't thought about that. He wasn't overly concerned about reputation, since he was nobody important. All he had to think about was not getting detected by the local gang. Kitamura, on the other hand, couldn't afford to be suspected of...whatever people would call what they were doing.
"I actually wanted to talk to you about last night," Jonouchi stated cautiously. Kitamura watched him with interest. "I don't know if it was because you were drunk, but...you were a little too rough."
More like way too rough. But Jonouchi was being cautious. It was bad form to complain about sex directly, but like hell if he was going to just put up with that kind of treatment. He could understand it hurting the night before, but that morning (and even now) he was still in pain.
"I was?" Kitamura seemed genuinely surprised. "I apologize. I couldn't really tell what was up with you, since you didn't say anything."
"You wanted me to say something?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Kitamura queried before sighing and resting his elbow on the table. "I'd heard that the Japanese acquiesce about sexual things, but honestly. I wouldn't have been offended if you told me to ease up."
"Um," Jonouchi felt stupid now. Yet somehow, the words sounded strange to him. The night before, Kitamura had been forward, somewhat demanding, and almost...forceful. Jonouchi remembered having his wrists forcefully pinned down and held fast even when he tried to move, and the way Kitamura had held his shoulders as if keeping him in place. Maybe it was his own fault that all those things had kept him from speaking out (along with being drunk and ignorant).
"If you want to make sure it doesn't happen again," Kitamura continued, "You could try preparing beforehand."
"What?" Jonouchi gaped. Obviously, Kitamura had about as many qualms as he did with discussing that shit in public. But the suggestion was what put the scandalized expression on his face. Was he really saying he was supposed to finger himself before hook-ups?
"So you're assuming that I'm gonna sleep with you again?" Jonouchi grimaced. Not that he wasn't at least halfway entertaining the thought, but he was embarrassed, and wanted to find a way to get back at Kitamura.
"Well, yes," Kitamura didn't seem put off in the slightest. Jonouchi couldn't stand businessmen and their goddamn poker faces. "You're here, so I thought that was your intention. Not tonight, of course, I don't have time and it sounds as if you need a break..."
Jonouchi was stunned into silence, not sure if he should be offended by Kitamura's bold assumptions. Was this what it was like for other Japanese people when they dealt with him?
The food came and saved him from responding for the moment. He needed time to collect his thoughts, and focusing on frying up the beef, chicken, pork, and noodles was a good distraction. Once he'd put the chopped vegetables onto the plate as well, he returned to the conversation.
"Look buddy, I'm not obligated to sleep with you. I called because I was hungry and you offered dinner. Maybe you think I owe you or something, but this is just the repayment you promised in return for last night anyway.
So at most, you might be even."
If that. Considering what Jonouchi was being put through today, he almost wanted to demand compensation. But it would make him feel like even more of a whore than he already did.
"I see," Kitamura chuckled, to Jonouchi's surprise. It made his cheeks turn red. He felt like he was being patronized, but he couldn't put his finger on why he felt that, exactly. Maybe it was in his head. "Then what are your terms, Jonouchi?"
Jonouchi grabbed some of the beef off of the fryer, partly to fill his stomach but mostly to his embarrassment as he ate it. When he'd downed the strip, he replied.
"I don't have "terms". Either you're going to be worth fucking, or you aren't."
He watched Kitamura's expression. Jonouchi wasn't sure if he looked amused and a little surprised, or perhaps impressed in some way. He had such a strange face. It was hard to tell.
"I understand. I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Jonouchi."
"Hmm," Jonouchi responded, pointedly watching his plate as he piled food on it. He was so hungry that it was actually becoming painful, and for the next few minutes, he was too preoccupied with scarfing everything on his plate to bother feeling uncomfortable. He'd topped off one plate before Kitamura even made it through the strips of meat he had on his own. Jonouchi squelched his embarrassment and got more food off the fryer. It took a little while for him to notice that Kitamura was watching him while he ate.
"What is it?" Jonouchi raised an eyebrow and swallowed hard so he wouldn't talk with his mouth full.
"I can order more food," Kitamura suggested. Jonouchi only became more confused. "You don't have to be so frantic."
"What do you mean?" Jonouchi was already half-offended. Kitamura laughed.
"You eat like you think the food will run away. Or that you won't get any more."
"Yeah, well," Jonouchi grumbled, returning to his meal. What could he say to that? It was a habit he'd learned from being poor. When he was starving and finally got some food, he ate it as fast as he could and as much as he could. He almost never got to eat until he was full, and when he had the chance, he took full advantage, stuffing his stomach as much as possible.
They finished their meal quietly. Jonouchi ate most of what had been ordered on his own, and what he couldn't stuff in at the restaurant, he got in a take-out box. It would be breakfast tomorrow.
"Well," Kitamura checked his watch once they'd left the restaurant. It was dark. Jonouchi stood with his take-out box wondering how safe he would be going home. Maybe he should sleep in Domino Park tonight. At least it was uptown, and safer. "I have to get back to my hotel. I suppose I'll get in touch later to see if you'll be free..."
Jonouchi didn't reply. He didn't really have anything to say to that. He had yet to decide if he wanted to keep having sex with Kitamura. Even if it might be better in the future, he wasn't sure if it was something he wanted to carry on doing. Jonouchi wasn't that into sex. He could go either way, really, and even though it had been pretty special near the end last night, he could get almost as good just jerking off. Well, not almost as good, but his ass wouldn't hurt the next day.
"Here," Jonouchi was surprised when Kitamura handed him a bunch of bills. He stared up at the American who was just handing him some three thousand yen like it was nothing.
"What's this for?"
"For transportation," Kitamura smiled, "And whatever else you might need it for. I don't know how soon I'll be able to take you to dinner again."
Jonouchi took the money, still bewildered even after Kitamura said goodnight and got into his car to leave. He was giving him money? Not only that, but he was suggesting other dinner dates, too. Probably with the expectation of sex in return...
He hated the idea of dating for pay. It seemed so wrong for him. He didn't judge the woman who lived next door for doing it. People did what they had to do. But was he really going to fuck someone just for some extra cash and a good dinner?
Maybe, if he actually wanted to have sex. He was still undecided about it. He remembered the great feeling, and he remembered the terrible feeling. If he could have one without the other, then it might be nice to have a sugar daddy buying him shit in return for getting laid. It would almost be like dating, except without the emotional crap. But it would be without the companionship, too, if Kitamura's actions were any indication. He didn't seem overly concerned with company.
Jonouchi stuffed the money into his underwear while he was still uptown. If he ran into trouble on the way back to his place, he sure as hell wasn't going to let them steal his money without a fight. Most of the punks were stupid and would just try to find a wallet or something. Jonouchi didn't have the funds to require a wallet, so lucky him. Worst case, he'd get beaten half to death and his take-out box would get snatched or wasted in an alley somewhere.
He took the train. He almost wanted to walk just to preserve the extra cash, but he didn't have the energy. He still ached, and he was full and tired. After walking from the metro to his neighborhood, he'd digested enough that he was confident in his ability to sprint, should the need arise. He was a fast runner, since he had to dash to work almost every day. If he ran into trouble, running would be his first option. He was a responsible adult now, not a teenage punk who would be happy to use his fists before his brain.
Every little bit of rustling made him look to his sides and behind himself, bracing for trouble, but it was always either trash blowing around or a cat being a fuckwit somewhere out of sight. Jonouchi knew what a gang sounded like. Usually it would be a parade of footsteps, someone (the leader) speaking, followed by a round of idiotic laughter. They'd be traveling in a noticeable group.
When he did hear voices, they were coming from his building. Some asshole was playing a guitar upstairs and wailing into the night, and the neighbors were shouting up at him through open windows. Jonouchi dragged himself up the stairs, used to such scuffles. People in his neighborhood mostly minded their own business, but within the building, they were less afraid of one another due to the close proximity. That, and the fact that the little gang-bangers running around weren't from this particular complex.
The noise had died down by the time Jonouchi got inside. He heard sirens wailing, and then was momentarily blinded by the multi-colored lights that shone in through the open window. Right, he'd need to close that before going to bed if he didn't want to be up with the sun. He was sleeping in as long as he could before his lunch shift tomorrow.
After showering and storing his take-out in the fridge, he put on a fresh pair of boxers, laid out his work clothes where he could pull them on in a hurry, and stuffed the money into the front pocket.
He was actually tired enough that the futon seemed almost comfortable, in all honesty. It was tolerable, anyway. Lying on his back, he stretched briefly before closing his eyes. The soreness that had been bothering him since that morning had slowly dulled over the course of the day, and with any luck, it wouldn't be noticeable when he got up the next day.
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Ambivalence