FIC: Someday Soon
Author:
drummerdancerCharacters/Pairings: Prideshipping (Seto Kaiba x Yami Yugi), Dragonshipping (Katsuya Jounouchi x Yami Yugi), others x Yami Yugi
Word Count: 764
Warnings: Adult themes, cursing, violence
Notes: High School AU, there might be more of this
Summary: “I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone, Kaiba, as much as I do you...you mother-fuckin’ piece of shit.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone, Kaiba, as much as I do you, right this fraction of a moment. You mother-fuckin’ piece of shit.”
“Those are some big words for someone of your stature. Did the mutt point you to a dictionary?”
“Shut the hell—hmf—”
Yami wished it were a sock, a piece of rope, sliced onion—his mind spun with alternatives he might prefer. Kaiba’s nasty-ass tongue was choking his thoughts, his angry, angry thoughts—that wet slimy tongue of his pushed gridlock against Yami’s own, until Yami thought he might gag because this game of tonsil tennis felt more like bear-arming a freakish squid with blood-seeking suction cups searching for his gums. He should bite Kaiba; every taste bud of Yami’s said yes, bite this fucker! and Kaiba pulled out grinning just as Yami snarled his teeth and scraped the bottom of Kaiba’s tongue.
Kaiba tched like a prissy bastard and brushed his bangs into his eyes with just a sharp head toss. “Such a tease. Does Katsuya have to deal with this too? Or does he just flip you ass-up and get on with it?”
Yami’s face bloomed with anger. “I—you! You—that’s not…”
“True? Oh? It is. I’ve seen it. We’ve all see it. Katsuya recorded it, and showed us all during lunchtime. Your gag reflex is truly fascinating.”
Yami’s stomach lurched like he’d been gut-kicked, churned like there was plexi-glass poking out his belly. No. That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t possibly. Jounouchi and he were—
“You lie! Jounouchi is my friend and he wouldn’t—”
“Friend? Ha!” Kaiba bent his head back and laughed, then grabbed Yami by the collar and pulled them chest-to-chest, sternum-to-sternum, and purred, “Then I want to be your friend too. Free blow jobs are right up my creek…or should I say…down yours?…he he.”
Yami spat right in Kaiba’s face. “You put that nasty thing near me, and I mother-fucking swear I’ll castrate you.”
Kaiba wheeled back, away enough so he could wipe his face off with the shoulder of his jacket, but still close enough to hold Yami tight. “Mutou…that was unwise. Stop this nonsense…this reputation you’re trying to protect doesn’t exist.”
“My repu—Kaiba Seto, I’m trying to protect me, myself! Leave me the hell alone!”
“No.” Kaiba fisted his hands in Yami’s collar, hoisted him up to the very tips of his toes, so his back leant fully against the chain-link fence behind him, pinching into his clothes… “Ever since you came to this school, you’ve acted like nothing but a cock-tease. Nowhere, and I’ve bloody checked, nowhere does it say in the dress code you can ‘customize’ the uniform. Look at you—your ass is squeegeed into fucking denim leather. And you get away with it, too, because the teachers all think you’re ‘cute’.”
“And then you decide to trounce us all—me, fucking Kaiba Seto—at chess one day and suddenly you’re the smartest. You’re the brightest. You’re the most ‘intellectual’ of every guy in the class.”
“But let me tell you, something, Mutou. You’re not. You’re nothing.”
Yami swallowed, blinked, stared into Kaiba’s red-margined eyes.
“I’ve watched you, from day one, struggle through every assignment, every reading, every piece of paper ever handed your way. And every one has returned back with a beautiful fuckin’ great job scribbled in the margin. And I know your secret. You aren’t fucking with me anymore.”
“Kaiba—”
“No!” Kaiba slammed Yami up into the fence, and Yami cried and threw his belly forwards, anything to get away from the crosslinks stabbing into his uniform.
Kaiba’s bangs draped into his eyes, but they still pierced like rubbed sapphire, still stared right under Yami’s skin. “You cannot read. Kanji, at the very least. And you’re blowing Katsuya and everyone else who will cheat for you and transcribe the documents, into straight kana, something.”
“It’s true, isn’t it. Say it.”
Yami gapped stupidly for words. “It isn’t—”
Kaiba yanked, felled Yami right to the ground on his right shoulder. Yami shouted, cried out because now this fucker had bruised him, and Kaiba jumped a foot on Yami’s stomach and swiped out his smartscreen, snarling as he said, “then what the hell is this?”
And Yami’s heart gave the tinniest beat, the littlest shake and shiver, as the screen showed a still of a windowless room, on maybe the third floor of Domino High. And Yami could see himself on the phone, brutally nude.