Because Azurite wanted the entire story up to 'Clean' and 'Seto's Side.'

Warning: Blatant and continuous sexual innuendo.

UnClean Part 1

by Kysra

Oh. My. God.

To say Téa was panicked would have been an understatement. She sat, frozen and wide-eyed in the passenger seat, lips parted, the fingers of her intact hand fiddling nervously at her new cast.

What was I thinking?

That was the million yen question. What had she been thinking? She remembered being incensed at her "companion," Seto Kaiba, when he refused to return her property, utterly irritated that he wasn't in the least sympathetic to her pain, and completely distracted by his intimidating hulk and direct stare.

He had asked her what she could possibly have to offer him, to barter for the return of her underwear, and she had . . . she had answered with what had been meant as a joke,

"A vagina."

And then to her utter surprise, he had frowned momentarily,

"I accept."

For a pair of panties, she had become a prostitute (if you defined the term very loosely). And yet . . .

Yet . . .

She had entertained a wildly romanticized vision of her first time. Her . . . partner and she would be in love - that was a given. He would wine and dine her. She would be wearing expensive lingerie for the "big event," and everything would be perfect, all silk sheets and soft music, gentle touches and bone-deep sighs. They would cuddle by candlelight after they reached simultaneous fulfillment and wake next to each other in the morning, content and reveling in a new spiritual connection.

With two little words, she had destroyed that dream.

If I protested loud enough, maybe . . . Seto Kaiba is many things, but I can't believe he's a deviant or a rapist. I could get out of this and let him have the stupid panties if he's that attached to them.

But, if she backed out, if she made her case and put a stop to this disaster in the making –

Would it really be so bad?

The irony of the situation at hand was not lost on her. She had never really considered Seto Kaiba to be a sexual being. Sometimes, when he was being exceptionally surly or mean, she even found herself thinking he might not be human. He was just another classmate, her best friend's rival, a poor little rich boy who was gifted with the sweetest kid brother in the world, a towering intellect, and ready-made monopoly. He wasn't even a he in her mind, but - simply - another body taking up space, some strangely familiar faceless mannequin she bumped into from time to time. Like the guys, the form she had constructed for him in her head was safely and effectively emasculated, asexual, genderless.

But it's different now . . .

One comment had spawned a reply that was victorious in desecrating the glorious illusions she had created to protect herself. Seto Kaiba was no longer a mere sexless figment but a solid, flesh and blood man sitting beside her, driving down the empty streets toward her empty house where they would summarily get naked and . . . . Suddenly, she was aware of the heat his body emanated just beside her, of the width and breadth of his shoulders, of his impressive height, and slim but toned physique. She was overcome by the angry beauty of his face, all angles and straight lines, the stubborn stormy blue of his eyes, the clean brow line, and the tumbling locks of rich brown hair.

He had become, in a matter of mere seconds, the most dangerous, scariest force she had ever known. That he was also the most attractive specimen she had ever seen only served to exacerbate matters.

But why? Even if he had taken me seriously, why would he accept? He hates me.

Unfortunately, Téa was not given the chance to theorize on the inner workings of Seto Kaiba's brain as she noticed they had reached her home. If she were totally honest with herself, she really didn't want to know; however, there was so much uncertainty eating away at her strangled confidence, a veritable wall of confusion closing in behind her eyes. She needed to know why he was doing this, because if she understood his motives, perhaps she would begin to understand her own.

How can he be so calm?

Surreal. That's what this situation was. Her eyes had nearly bugged out when he had opened the door for her after parking the car in her driveway. Her breath had become a stationary little bubble of pressure within her throat when he had offered his hand and summarily helped her (unnecessarily) to her front door. She could swear her legs had turned to jelly when he closed and locked the door behind them, his eyes burning through the moonlit darkness before her nervous dash for the light switch. Her heart had - literally - skipped a beat (or two or four) when he had insisted he wasn't hungry, that cooking for him wasn't necessary, and she recognized the implied corollary - he wasn't hungry for food. And she was on the verge of a heart attack as she watched him partake of her excellent miso with anxious and confused eyes.

She was - quite literally - frightened beyond all comprehension and sanity.

Why can't he be even remotely nervous? Has he done this before?

Oh, God. What if he had? What if he had a collection of blackmail ladies' underwear hidden in his bedroom? What if he had some sort of strange, perverted shrine dedicated to all the virgins he had sacrificed in the name of panty stealing? What if –

"I'm impressed, Gardner. Your miso is excellent."

Perhaps it was because she was absolutely terrified out of her mind and trying her best to hide it or maybe it was the fact that - for the first time and probably the last time - Seto Kaiba had complimented her without resorting to his condescending smirk. Whatever the reason, Téa's mortification multiplied infinitely as a reply flew from her acerbic tongue to linger between and heavily upon them, "Is that your brand of foreplay?"

His smirk was a razor cutting into her very soul, "That depends."

Téa gave a mental scream of horror as her body leaned forward and her lips constructed a reply, "If it's working?"

"If you're game."

She wanted to say no. She wanted with every cell of her body to kick him to the curb and scream that he could keep the damn panties if they were that important to him. But she didn't, because -

"Why . . . are you looking at me like that?"

His mouth was a solid stroke of sensuous temptation, forming a beckoning little smirk. Their eyes met, his a glazed midnight blue peeking, beckoning from beneath narrowed lids, hers a startled, glittering bright cerulean half-afraid, half-questioning.

"I think you know why."

It was then that Téa became convinced she was either possessed or aliens had sucked out her brain, because there was absolutely no way to explain what came out of her mouth next, "Are you going to do something about it?"

He gave her a look that made her mind go blank before the thought was processed, Good Lord, what are we talking about again? And why hasn't he made a move? . . . I did not just think that.

That was about when she noticed that the Seto Kaiba - her classmate and rival of her best friend, duelist of the first rank, teenaged CEO, one of the richest men in the world, and one of the few people she could honestly admit to having a general dislike for - was stripping. In her dining room. While she watched.

I must have died and gone to hell. Where is Bakura when you need him to murder someone . . . or - better - steal a soul?

And all the while these panicked thoughts were running through her head, they had never broken eye contact, her breathing had deepened, and the beleaguered heart in her chest was easily overworking itself.

I am so suing him if I die of a heart attack! . . . I need to get out of here! I need to get out of this!

But there was no escape, and as lovely tanned skin stretched over - Thank you, thank you for whatever Kaiba does to build THOSE - taut muscle was systematically exposed, she couldn't help sending up the mental Hosanna humming through her body.

Damned traitorous hormones! I have to stall him! I have to ESCAPE! Where can I g – OH MY GOD!

His shirt discarded, Seto Kaiba smirked down upon the dainty part in her hair since her eyes were transfixed with that portion of him exposed at her eye level - namely his torso. He had to stifle a laugh as he noted the hanging jaw and building drool, "Why don't we retire to your bedroom and become better acquainted?"

Slowly, the words seeped into the comprehensive part of her brain, and with effort - draining, torturous effort - she managed to tear her eyes away from his well-defined chest and magnificent arms, "Um, I'll just . . . I need to shower first." Because the bathroom locked from the inside and boasted a window just big enough for her to wiggle through. Nevermind that it was on the second floor, she had already suffered one broken bone today, she could deal with a few more.

Téa could feel him looking at her, "We'll shower afterwards."

Oh. My. GOD. That BASTARD!

Because, of course, he meant they would shower together. All for a pair of panties. They were both - Téa was inclined to be fair in her assessment - sick puppies. Though, she thought that if she were to ever call Seto Kaiba a puppy of any sort, he would – well, considering his actions tonight, she didn't know what to expect from him anymore.

And no matter how she sliced it, I could still just say no. Why aren't I saying no? Why haven't I said no?

"Why are you doing this?" It was her voice, but she was positive she had intended to say something totally different.

He gave her a measuring look before nonchalantly pushing his pants over his narrow hips, "Why not?"

That she was goggling at him was not the problem, that she was actually considering that answer as valid was.

Mind control, that's the only explanation. Does he have the Rod on him somewhere?

And then, Téa Gardner, don't you dare twist that question into something we'll regret. But her eyes had a mind of their own tonight, and they suddenly dipped to catch a glimpse of –

oh. my. god, she mentally squeaked, he's going to tear me apart.

And it was the mind-numbing fear that prompted her to make yet another huge mistake, "Kaiba, have you done this before? I mean . . . I thought you – How could you want me?"

It's not gonna happen. It's not gonna happen. It can't happen because I'm me and he's –

Standing there - in her dining room - in only his boxers and socks, Seto seemed to be considering her desperate inquiry. Then his eyes, sharp and direct seemed to cut into her skin, his cool fingers soothing the imagined burning sensation caused by such an intense gaze, "I think the question is: How could I not want you?"

Her eyes felt as if they were about to jump out of their sockets, and the air seemed suddenly too thin, "B – but –"

"And I haven't done this before."

"Then why –"

"Enough talk, Gardner."

And then hungry lips descended upon hers, sucking, nibbling, licking, tasting, and bruising before releasing roughly as two strong hands grasped the collar of her blouse before tearing the white cotton cloth from her body in one smooth motion.

Shocked, glazed blue eyes looked out and up, dumbstruck and mute, from a face stained crimson even as arms wrapped and covered the nearly exposed chest instinctively.

Kaiba's smirk merely widened at the little squeal she gave when his hand came down hard on her rear, "As I said: Bedroom. Now."

To be continued . . .