Chapter Five
Authoress: Keishi
BIG FAT WARNING:
Contains m/m relationships
ONLY read if you are of age and open-minded!!!
Disclaimer
Now, he wasn't sure if it was just pure coincidence that he landed in Katsuya Jounouchi's arms, or if divine providence was playing one incredibly horrific joke on him (ha ha, he thought with no mirth); but Seto was pretty sure that it had something to do with the contractors who built the school, 'lo those many years ago, intentionally erecting a wall in that exact location with the express purpose of embarrassing one yet-to-be-born Seto Kaiba. Yep, that had to be it.
"Are you okay?" a breathy, yet inhumanly seductive, voice whispered in his ear. 'This is turning out just like a bad romance novel,' Seto thought fleetingly as he floundered in Jou's arms. 'A _really_ bad romance novel. Whoever wrote this should be shot.' He gritted his teeth as he tried not to realize who's naked thighs his palms were against as he pushed himself upwards. Finally obtaining at least a crouching position, he shifted away from Jou, who was only too happy to let him go. Or maybe not. Seto couldn't help but glance between the blond's legs. I mean, he was naked and right _there_!
"I'm fine," Seto managed, though to the brunet's ears, it sounded more like a frog croaking than his own voice. He winced and looked away from Katsuya, fighting the urge to pounce on that golden tanned skin and lick every inch of it, and he meant _every_ inch. He had just reigned in his impulses when he felt a hand grab at his wrist.
"You're hurt," Jou said plaintively when Seto wrenched his wrist away, cradling it and shooting a murderous look at the blond. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Still crouched on the bathroom tile, naked as the day he was born, Jou looked ridiculous wearing that concerned expression on his face. Someone should kiss it away... Seto shook his head and examined his injury.
When he had slammed into the rough concrete wall, he had instinctively thrown up a hand to take the brunt of the damage. Now the side of his hand and wrist were covered in bloody scrapes, blood trickling lazily out. It wasn't until he actually realized he was hurt that the pain started. Sharp, tiny stinging pains shot through his arm, from where the raw scratches hit the humidity of the foggy room. He hissed out a breath, clenching his teeth together. Why was it always the little injuries that hurt worst?
Katsuya rose from his crouched position, not caring about his state of undress, and twisted the shower knob. Cold water began streaming out of the shower head, and he turned to Seto, still seated on the bathroom floor, quite drenched. "Give me your hand," Jou commanded quietly, his tone barring argument.
Seto tried to stare menacingly at the blond, but found his usual animosity paling under the scrutiny of compassionate, obstinate, enticingly nude Jounouchi. He reluctantly got up and extended his arm to the other youth. Jou gave Seto a look of relief and took the offered hand, placing it under the cold spray. Instantly the pain was gone, and both boys watched as Kaiba's blood washed away under the shower, becoming indistinct as it mixed with the water streaming down.
"Hold that there," Jou stated importantly, then went to go search for the regulation first-aid kit stocked in every locker room. On the way, he grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist, grateful for the one small miracle of not being hard anymore. Concern does that, he guessed. Setting the kit down on one of the long benches, he turned back to the fully-clad boy still standing in the showers, apparently not caring one whit that his uniform was soaked straight through.
Katsuya pulled Seto's hand out of the spray, flicking the shower off with a flick of the wrist. He was about to pull Seto towards the bench, when the brunet once again yanked his hand out of Jou's hold. "I can do it myself," the CEO muttered indignantly, finally gaining some of his old arrogance back.
"Just lemme do it, okay, Kaiba? You don't have to be such a hard-ass all the time, you know? Let someone else take care of you for once." Jounouchi shot the brown-haired youth a frustrated look.
Speechless at Jou's words, Seto shut his mouth and let the blond take the reigns. Katsuya sat Seto down on the bench, and straddled it himself, careful not to let his towel ride up too far and inadvertently flash the millionaire. He opened the kit and began ripping open about half a dozen band-aid wrappers, covering Seto's hand and upper wrist in fleshy plastic. Kaiba watched, half in a silent daze, as Jou's brow knitted as he concentrated, trying not to put the sticky parts on any tender areas. Seto couldn't help but notice the way the blond gingerly held his wrist, as if he could crush it by applying the slightest pressure; or how Jou tended to bite the tip of his tiny, pink tongue while he finished with Seto's bandaging.
"There," he said, patting Seto's hand when he was done, a triumphant look in his twinkling eyes. "That wasn't as bad as you thought, now was it, Kaiba?"
"Seto."
"Huh?"
"Call me Seto." Kaiba blushed a bit. "I mean, if you're going to keep yakking at me all the time," the brunet tossed out.
"Uh... yeah," Jou said slowly, looking at Seto as if he just grew a second head. He turned away from the brunet and pulled off his towel, drying his hair, then cursorily rubbing the rest of his body with it. He began pulling on his clothes, trying his damndest to forget that Seto was still behind him, dripping water loudly onto the tiled floor. Doing nothing else, except standing there. Dripping. Katsuya sighed.
"Here," he said, as he tossed an extra shirt from his backpack at the brunet. Seto caught it, then looked at the blond warily. "It's just a shirt, and yours is soaked," he reasoned, the tiniest bit of anger reaching his voice. "You can give it back to me later, or hell, just keep it. I don't need it that bad," he muttered, bitter. Why can't the idiot just accept something without thinking there's an ulterior motive behind it all the time?
"...Thanks," Seto mumbled, then pulled off his jacket and shirt, folding them carefully and placing them on the bench on front of him. He put on Jou's shirt, a blue one, and smiled, making sure the blond didn't see him. The shirt nearly engulfed him, falling to about mid-thigh. 'Damn, he likes his clothes big,' he thought.
"Yeah, well..." Jou looked over his shoulder as he finished lacing up his scuffed tennis shoes, backpack already slung over one shoulder. "See ya moneybags," he said, mock-saluting the millionaire, and began sauntering out of the room, about to place his earphones back on his head.
Seto bit his lip lightly, careful not aggravate the wound he had created earlier when Jou had taken off his shirt, and Seto's mind had went out to lunch. "Jounouchi," he called after the blond, voice a bit thicker than he intended it to be.
Jou turned around. "Yeah?"
Seto looked down at his fingers, astonishingly fidgeting with his folded clothes. The cool, collected CEO _never_ fidgeted. Inwardly yelling at himself to pull his act together, after all it was only the _puppy_, he determinedly brought his eyes back up to Jou's. "Would you like a ride home?"
The blond shifted his stance, unconsciously hitching his bag strap further onto his shoulder. He looked about the locker room uneasily, expecting there to be a catch. "Umm..."
"Now who's being the hard-ass?" Seto arched an eyebrow.
Jou narrowed his eyes, and Kaiba knew he had him. "Fine, I accept. I'd love a ride home, _Seto_."
Kaiba nodded. "Alright then, _Jounouchi_. My Jag is parked out front." He walked past the blond, swinging his briefcase slightly.
Trailing after the brunet, Jounouchi quipped, "What, no limo today? Decided to give Jeeves the day off?"
"His name is Hiroshi, and yes, I did. Though I don't see how that's any of your business, puppy." Seto refused to look at the blond as he stalked down the empty hallway. The echoing footsteps of his racing partner ceased.
"Dammit," Jou swore under his breath.
"What?" Seto turned around, looking only slightly less dignified wearing a worn blue t-shirt in place of the usual school uniform.
"You had to start with that 'puppy' shit again. Doesn't that ever get old?"
Seto hesitated. In truth, he agreed with Jounouchi; it did get old, but he had to keep up appearances. Wouldn't do him any good if people thought Seto wasn't the arrogant asshole they all perceived him to be. He sighed. "Alright, Jounouchi, let's call a truce, just a small one, just for the drive home. Okay? Truce?" He held out his hand.
"Yeah, alright," Jou said, pumping Seto's hand firmly. "Oh, and it's Katsuya."
"Excuse me?"
Katsuya looked at his blue-eyed former rival (at least for the ride home) out of the corner of his eye. "If I can call you Seto, you can call me Katsuya. 'Sonly fair." He shrugged.
Seto grinned in spite of himself. "Fine, then. Katsuya."
"Seto." Jou bowed his head slightly.
----
TBC.
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