Sorry to confuse people, LOL. It's Romance/Angst because I'm planning for
there to be some angst fairly soon, and mainly because FF.Net only lets us
have TWO genres! . I didn't want to leave Romance out because.... well,
duh.... ^^;; And I didn't want to leave Angst out because some people don't
like reading it without warning. And It's Joey/Seto (for this story,
anyhow) and not Tea/Seto, because of how reserved Seto is when it comes to
things like affection, which I'll hopefully explain better a few chapters
from now....
~*~*~*~
"So, you're saying that we've gotta find a way to get around her sexist prejudices." Joey summarized. It was the next day, and they had finally gotten down to business.
"That's right." Seto rolled his eyes.
"....She sounds like she's gay." Joey observed.
"Well, I'M not stopping you if you want to be a female instead....."
"No! I didn't mean it like that!" Joey spoke up quickly.
"So, just HOW did you mean it, then?" Seto smirked, amused.
"I mean.... well.... if she doesn't like guys, then she must like girls, right?" Joey fumbled.
"Joey, she was a virgin." Seto rolled his eyes. "She never had a relationship. We don't need to deal with that."
"Oh. Well, that makes sense, then." Joey agreed. "But if she's a vir-- WAIT! I got it!" He exclaimed.
"Go ahead, shoot."
"That's it! That's it exactly!" Joey grinned, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
"....What?" Seto tilted his head, looking at Joey oddly.
"Shooting! You know that guy with wings that flies around naked and shoots arrows so people love each other? Cupid, right?"
"It's Eros, in Greek." Seto shook his head, considering the idea. "'Thus is winged Cupid painted blind....' You know, this just might work....."
"See? I TOLD you that I had good ideas!" Joey exclaimed triumphantly.
"Idea. You shouldn't use the plural form until you've had more than one, mutt." Seto corrected.
Joey just seethed. "Shut up and work."
"You're the one who interrupted." Seto pointed out. "So, Eros shoots Artemis, Artemis sees Apollo, she falls for him. Why?"
"Why? Cause she was shot, that's why!" Joey stared at him, wondering at the idiocy of Seto's question. Then again, they said there were no stupid questions, only stupid people....
"No, no... why would she be shot in the first place?" Seto sighed.
"Oh.... Hmmm.... maybe Eros is mad at her or something?"
"Probably would be Aphrodite, but we can work with that." Seto agreed. "I suppose the next part would bring the problem, when they start spending time together."
"How would that be a problem?"
"Hello, sun and moon? Night and day? Apollo needs to drive the sun chariot in the daytime; he can't be cavorting around with his new mistress. The same goes for Artemis. They occupy different time periods that can't overlap."
"Oh, yeah.... I get it." Joey nodded. "Everything would be really screwed up."
"Sort of like you are, right?" Seto inquired, chuckling.
"HEY!!"
~*~*~*~
"Finally, I thought I'd _never_ get home...." Joey groaned, tossing his backpack to the floor. He winced slightly at the muffled thud it made, and walked as quietly as he could down the hall towards his father's bedroom. If his old man was awake, then he'd be able to watch some TV without fear of disturbing him. If he wasn't, though.... well, it was just best to do his homework first thing, or go up to his room for a while. He never knew what to expect from day to day.
The blond poked his head around the doorway. "Dad?"
His quiet inquiry went unheard by the form that was sprawled across the bed, in a position that looked truly uncomfortable.
"Whatever...." He withdrew, shrugging to himself. He preferred being able to watch TV, but then again, sometimes it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. Joey pulled a book out of his backpack, the novel they were reading for English, and went up to his room.
He carefully closed the door behind himself, then, as was his ritual, took a running leap. He landed on the bed in a gloriously untidy heap of book, limbs, jacket, and hair, the old mattress squeaking in protest as he bounced on it a few times to get comfortable. "Ahh....." He stretched out on his back with a goofy grin, positioning himself close to the wall. He'd had this bed for as long as he could remember, and occasionally the tips of the springs poked out through it. Ouch, sharp little buggers.... But as long as he stayed close to the wall, it didn't happen much. That, and the fact that he was laying on some rumpled bedclothes helped.
Along with the mattress, it'd been his room for as long as he could remember, too. The walls were covered with faded posters of anything he could get his hands on, whether it was rock stars, models, concert memorabilia, or even the cheesy things you could find at the grocery store. He particularly liked the collection of 'Got Milk?' ones that adorned one section of the wall.
There was a bookcase in one corner. Despite what people might think, he actually did like to read. Well.... okay, comic books counted as reading material, right? He had a collection that was several-- HEAVY-- boxes large, and growing, along with some actual books, though not nearly as many. The rest of the space on it was taken up by knick knacks and other odds and ends. Like his bottle-cap collection, and the box of random, pretty stones and feathers that had caught his attention when he went out on walks.
The floor was decently clean, if you ignored the dirty socks there, and that book he'd forgotten to bring back to the library over to the left, and- - watch your step! It could be a jungle in here, as evidenced by the unidentified-but-potted plant that grew on the windowsill. The closet, like any NORMAL boy his age, was a twilight zone. He didn't usually go in there unless he had to. That was why he stuffed most of his clothes into the dresser drawers, which could get pretty tough to open.
On the outside of it though, he kept pictures. Lots of them, in what could almost be described as a shrine, only to nothing in particular. There was one of Yugi and him goofing off in the mall's photo booth, one of Tristan and himself at a pie-eating contest, one of the entire gang posing with 'armor' and paintball guns, one of them at a beach, all doing peace signs and generally pretending to be surfers and jocks. He could see a recent one of Serenity, a picture of the two of them as children, one with his father giving him a piggyback ride, a family photo that was so old he couldn't remember taking it....
Even the moments that weren't so great were captured there, like the photo of him wearing a dog suit for losing a duel. Or one of the times he'd tried to choke Seto, and was being held at arm's length-- he wasn't sure WHO had taken that one in the first place, or how he'd managed to end up with a copy. Hadn't they all been distracted trying to restrain him? Speaking of physical situations, there was Tristan holding him in a headlock.... Oh yeah, and he couldn't forget the one of him cowering behind the couch, with Tea leaning over the back so she could lecture him on proper behavior. He hadn't MEANT to hit the guy THAT hard.... He just didn't know his own strength, honest to goodness! He'd even apologized afterwards, even though it had all been that guy's fault in the first place.
Joey's musings were abruptly cut short by a little voice in his head. One that said, "Test on chapters 9-15 tomorrow. Amount read: Chapter 8."
At this thought, he bolted upright with a colorful array of expletives, and opened the book, starting to read. Like it or loathe it, this was life.
~*~*~*~
After several hours of intense reading, and managing to make it up to Chapter 11, Joey got up, and slid down the banister, heading down the hallway again to see if his father was awake. After all, it was kind of a waste to cook for two when only one was eating, right? "Dad?"
Not a single twitch; his father hadn't even moved from the position he'd seen him in last. Joey frowned a little, and leaned against the doorway, sniffing the air. It was absolutely pungent with liquor, strong enough to make somebody who wasn't used to the smell gag. "Oh, bloody hell...." He knew that it hadn't been very long since Winter Break, and people did tend to give good alcohol as gifts, but.... Oh, right. Holiday season.....
Taking a deep breath and deciding that some fresher air and food would do the man good, Joey went to rouse his father. "Dad, you know drinking this much isn't good for you...." A few bottles were scattered near him, one still containing a bit, its mouth lying next to a wet stain on the blanket.
After a few shakes on the shoulder didn't do the trick, Joey picked up the bottles, looking at the labels. "Damn.... I didn't even know he had stuff like this...." This was the GOOD stuff, brewed and aged and bottled. It was much too expensive for his dad to afford on a regular basis, thankfully, and much stronger than his usual supply. Former business associates? It was possible, he supposed.
Tucking that thought away for later, he put the bottles down to take the man's pulse. Sluggish was the best word to describe it. It was steady, though. "....And alcohol's a depressant...." Another colorful string of curses was brought to daylight. What had he been THINKING?! The old man could've drunk himself into a coma!
Teetering between anger and concern, Joey opened a window to get the stench out, went to go heat up a can of soup, and fetched his book. He'd be eating in here tonight; he didn't want dad to wake up without him there, in case the old man needed anything. Unless this was just a temporary thing, he might not be taking that test after all....
~*~*~*~
"So, you're saying that we've gotta find a way to get around her sexist prejudices." Joey summarized. It was the next day, and they had finally gotten down to business.
"That's right." Seto rolled his eyes.
"....She sounds like she's gay." Joey observed.
"Well, I'M not stopping you if you want to be a female instead....."
"No! I didn't mean it like that!" Joey spoke up quickly.
"So, just HOW did you mean it, then?" Seto smirked, amused.
"I mean.... well.... if she doesn't like guys, then she must like girls, right?" Joey fumbled.
"Joey, she was a virgin." Seto rolled his eyes. "She never had a relationship. We don't need to deal with that."
"Oh. Well, that makes sense, then." Joey agreed. "But if she's a vir-- WAIT! I got it!" He exclaimed.
"Go ahead, shoot."
"That's it! That's it exactly!" Joey grinned, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
"....What?" Seto tilted his head, looking at Joey oddly.
"Shooting! You know that guy with wings that flies around naked and shoots arrows so people love each other? Cupid, right?"
"It's Eros, in Greek." Seto shook his head, considering the idea. "'Thus is winged Cupid painted blind....' You know, this just might work....."
"See? I TOLD you that I had good ideas!" Joey exclaimed triumphantly.
"Idea. You shouldn't use the plural form until you've had more than one, mutt." Seto corrected.
Joey just seethed. "Shut up and work."
"You're the one who interrupted." Seto pointed out. "So, Eros shoots Artemis, Artemis sees Apollo, she falls for him. Why?"
"Why? Cause she was shot, that's why!" Joey stared at him, wondering at the idiocy of Seto's question. Then again, they said there were no stupid questions, only stupid people....
"No, no... why would she be shot in the first place?" Seto sighed.
"Oh.... Hmmm.... maybe Eros is mad at her or something?"
"Probably would be Aphrodite, but we can work with that." Seto agreed. "I suppose the next part would bring the problem, when they start spending time together."
"How would that be a problem?"
"Hello, sun and moon? Night and day? Apollo needs to drive the sun chariot in the daytime; he can't be cavorting around with his new mistress. The same goes for Artemis. They occupy different time periods that can't overlap."
"Oh, yeah.... I get it." Joey nodded. "Everything would be really screwed up."
"Sort of like you are, right?" Seto inquired, chuckling.
"HEY!!"
~*~*~*~
"Finally, I thought I'd _never_ get home...." Joey groaned, tossing his backpack to the floor. He winced slightly at the muffled thud it made, and walked as quietly as he could down the hall towards his father's bedroom. If his old man was awake, then he'd be able to watch some TV without fear of disturbing him. If he wasn't, though.... well, it was just best to do his homework first thing, or go up to his room for a while. He never knew what to expect from day to day.
The blond poked his head around the doorway. "Dad?"
His quiet inquiry went unheard by the form that was sprawled across the bed, in a position that looked truly uncomfortable.
"Whatever...." He withdrew, shrugging to himself. He preferred being able to watch TV, but then again, sometimes it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. Joey pulled a book out of his backpack, the novel they were reading for English, and went up to his room.
He carefully closed the door behind himself, then, as was his ritual, took a running leap. He landed on the bed in a gloriously untidy heap of book, limbs, jacket, and hair, the old mattress squeaking in protest as he bounced on it a few times to get comfortable. "Ahh....." He stretched out on his back with a goofy grin, positioning himself close to the wall. He'd had this bed for as long as he could remember, and occasionally the tips of the springs poked out through it. Ouch, sharp little buggers.... But as long as he stayed close to the wall, it didn't happen much. That, and the fact that he was laying on some rumpled bedclothes helped.
Along with the mattress, it'd been his room for as long as he could remember, too. The walls were covered with faded posters of anything he could get his hands on, whether it was rock stars, models, concert memorabilia, or even the cheesy things you could find at the grocery store. He particularly liked the collection of 'Got Milk?' ones that adorned one section of the wall.
There was a bookcase in one corner. Despite what people might think, he actually did like to read. Well.... okay, comic books counted as reading material, right? He had a collection that was several-- HEAVY-- boxes large, and growing, along with some actual books, though not nearly as many. The rest of the space on it was taken up by knick knacks and other odds and ends. Like his bottle-cap collection, and the box of random, pretty stones and feathers that had caught his attention when he went out on walks.
The floor was decently clean, if you ignored the dirty socks there, and that book he'd forgotten to bring back to the library over to the left, and- - watch your step! It could be a jungle in here, as evidenced by the unidentified-but-potted plant that grew on the windowsill. The closet, like any NORMAL boy his age, was a twilight zone. He didn't usually go in there unless he had to. That was why he stuffed most of his clothes into the dresser drawers, which could get pretty tough to open.
On the outside of it though, he kept pictures. Lots of them, in what could almost be described as a shrine, only to nothing in particular. There was one of Yugi and him goofing off in the mall's photo booth, one of Tristan and himself at a pie-eating contest, one of the entire gang posing with 'armor' and paintball guns, one of them at a beach, all doing peace signs and generally pretending to be surfers and jocks. He could see a recent one of Serenity, a picture of the two of them as children, one with his father giving him a piggyback ride, a family photo that was so old he couldn't remember taking it....
Even the moments that weren't so great were captured there, like the photo of him wearing a dog suit for losing a duel. Or one of the times he'd tried to choke Seto, and was being held at arm's length-- he wasn't sure WHO had taken that one in the first place, or how he'd managed to end up with a copy. Hadn't they all been distracted trying to restrain him? Speaking of physical situations, there was Tristan holding him in a headlock.... Oh yeah, and he couldn't forget the one of him cowering behind the couch, with Tea leaning over the back so she could lecture him on proper behavior. He hadn't MEANT to hit the guy THAT hard.... He just didn't know his own strength, honest to goodness! He'd even apologized afterwards, even though it had all been that guy's fault in the first place.
Joey's musings were abruptly cut short by a little voice in his head. One that said, "Test on chapters 9-15 tomorrow. Amount read: Chapter 8."
At this thought, he bolted upright with a colorful array of expletives, and opened the book, starting to read. Like it or loathe it, this was life.
~*~*~*~
After several hours of intense reading, and managing to make it up to Chapter 11, Joey got up, and slid down the banister, heading down the hallway again to see if his father was awake. After all, it was kind of a waste to cook for two when only one was eating, right? "Dad?"
Not a single twitch; his father hadn't even moved from the position he'd seen him in last. Joey frowned a little, and leaned against the doorway, sniffing the air. It was absolutely pungent with liquor, strong enough to make somebody who wasn't used to the smell gag. "Oh, bloody hell...." He knew that it hadn't been very long since Winter Break, and people did tend to give good alcohol as gifts, but.... Oh, right. Holiday season.....
Taking a deep breath and deciding that some fresher air and food would do the man good, Joey went to rouse his father. "Dad, you know drinking this much isn't good for you...." A few bottles were scattered near him, one still containing a bit, its mouth lying next to a wet stain on the blanket.
After a few shakes on the shoulder didn't do the trick, Joey picked up the bottles, looking at the labels. "Damn.... I didn't even know he had stuff like this...." This was the GOOD stuff, brewed and aged and bottled. It was much too expensive for his dad to afford on a regular basis, thankfully, and much stronger than his usual supply. Former business associates? It was possible, he supposed.
Tucking that thought away for later, he put the bottles down to take the man's pulse. Sluggish was the best word to describe it. It was steady, though. "....And alcohol's a depressant...." Another colorful string of curses was brought to daylight. What had he been THINKING?! The old man could've drunk himself into a coma!
Teetering between anger and concern, Joey opened a window to get the stench out, went to go heat up a can of soup, and fetched his book. He'd be eating in here tonight; he didn't want dad to wake up without him there, in case the old man needed anything. Unless this was just a temporary thing, he might not be taking that test after all....