The bed wasn't right. Jonouchi could surmise that much without opening his eyes—it was much softer than his ancient futon, and the ground seemed further away—his back wasn't digging into it like how he woke up most mornings. The sheets weren't scratchy or paper-thin, either.
So that meant he wasn't in his room. And if he wasn't in his room, he wasn't at home. He definitely wasn't at Honda's, though—Honda didn't have a spare bed at his apartment, so Jonouchi always had crashed on his friend's couch or in a sleeping bag whenever they'd done a night of marathon drinking.
His head hurt. His stomach hurt, too, for that matter: it rumbled and sloshed, full of only liquid. His skin felt dry, and his mouth was like sandpaper.
Actually, everything hurt. His shoulders down to the small of his back ached, his lips felt like they had been put through a blender, and his hips felt funny. There was an ache completely foreign to him along his backside.
Jonouchi tried to roll over, but then the world was spinning. He felt pinned to place while everything oscillated around him, and the nauseating feeling traveled up his gut to his throat. Fuck, was he going to be sick? He rarely puked from drinking…
He needed to get up. Get some liquid other than whatever the fuck he'd be drinking the night before in his system. But there was a dense weight around his waist, and Jonouchi was immobile. The weight was warm. Still squinting his eyes tightly to avoid the sun, Jonouchi fumbled around with his hands, trying to figure out what was trapping him. His hand brushed against his stomach as it flopped around, and Jonouchi felt an odd flaking. Gross, what the hell was on him? The weight wouldn't budge.
Trying an alternative, Jonouchi kicked his legs around. They were twisted in the sheets, and he felt a strange draft whenever the sheet was pulled up too much. It was like...he didn't have any pants on.
Wait. Eyes flying open, Jonouchi attempted to prop himself up on an elbow. He felt like hell, and his eyes were crusted over, his vision blurry. Blinking a few times, Jonouchi noticed an uncomfortable pressing against his arms and discovered it to be his shirt, which had been hiked up all the way to his armpits. And then looking down, Jonouchi realized with slow, mounting horror that he was indeed naked from the waist-down. And the same crusted something on his groin was also smeared across his buttocks...
Flailing around with a sudden burst of energy, Jonouchi willed himself to ignore the sick, sinking feeling that he knew to be from more than just a hangover. He managed to roll onto his back with some effort before he registered the annoyed groaning coming from right beside him.
Kaiba was pressed against his side, and the weight had been his arm, still latched onto Jonouchi's middle.
Suddenly, the hairs on Jonouchi's arms and neck stood up, goosebumps rapidly springing. Kaiba's hair was tousled, and his shirt was entirely unbuttoned, exposing his chest. He was sleeping deeply, his mouth slightly open, causing a light snore.
Just what had happened last night? What had they done? Jonouchi didn't want to know.
He tried sitting up, but his stomach muscles cramped so badly, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot along Jonouchi's back all the way down to the backs of his knees. It was completely unnerving. Not unbearable, though. But he felt entirely worn-out, his brain sputtering like a backfiring engine.
They had done something he was immediately regretting, that was for sure. The hangover was coming over him quicker than he'd hoped, and pulling Kaiba's grip away from his waist while searching for his boxers under the sheets, Jonouchi finally was able to get free and put his underwear back on. Not that he'd ever get any semblance of dignity back after what he could only imagine happened the night before, but Jonouchi didn't want to think too hard about that, yet.
Not when he needed the toilet.
He ran across Kaiba's bedroom blindly, praying to every deity he knew for the right door when he thankfully found the master bathroom. Running to the toilet, he quickly lifted the lid before his body heaved, vomit spilling out of his mouth as his gut burned from the muscular soreness of the night before. It came in waves, the urgency to clear his system taking over as he threw up several times into the basin, not backing away until his stomach clenched and the only thing that was coming out was the drool and spit Jonouchi was trying to wipe off his face.
It stank. Dropping the lid, Jonouchi quickly flushed the toilet, collapsing on the seat pitifully before letting out a frustrated sigh. This was not how he wanted to be found, paying homage to the porcelain god, but what else could he do about it? He wasn't about to go puking across Kaiba's bedroom.
When Jonouchi looked up, Kaiba was hovering by the door. His hair was still a mess, and his shirt was untucked and open, but at least he was all tucked into his slacks, even if they were hanging low on his hips, unzipped. He yawned loudly, covering his mouth with his hand. "Anything left in your stomach, or did you make a full deposit?"
"You're not funny."
Turning back to hide his face, Jonouchi slumped over the top of the lid again before feeling a headache coming on. Probably from the lack of fluids. It would be just his luck to die in Kaiba's bathroom, of all places.
He refused to get up off the floor until Kaiba was gone. Jonouchi didn't move, just sitting there limp and feeling dead as his abdomen trembled painfully a few times, and he could feel the ache inside his guts continue on. His lower back also hurt, his tailbone throbbing, and the obnoxious soreness that he couldn't quite put a finger on only grew more intense as he remained a heap on the floor, trying not to move.
Could have been worse, though. At least Jonouchi was wearing some clothes now, in his moment of complete shame.
He heard the distant opening and shutting of a cabinet, and then something smooth and cool was pressing against his shoulder. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Jonouchi registered that Kaiba was dangling a water bottle by his head as he guzzled down his own. Accepting it rather pitifully, Jonouchi slowly cracked the top open and took a hesitant sip. Kaiba was rummaging through his drawers, not paying Jonouchi much attention. He didn't know whether he should feel offended or grateful.
"I have some aspirin, if you need it. Some ibuprofen, too." Kaiba rattled the bottles for emphasis.
"I don't want your drugs," Jonouchi mumbled as he sighed and put a hand through his hair. He tugged at it before letting go and straightening out his shirt. "Do you mind if I just use your shower?"
"Go ahead." Kaiba's eyes did a quick sweep of Jonouchi's figure. "There are clean towels in the closet next to it." He stood there for a few awkward moments, something like nervousness coloring his expression. But that didn't make any sense at all—Kaiba was never nervous. "I'll leave you to it," he finally said, turning around and silently shutting the door behind him.
"Yeah, you do that," replied Jonouchi underneath his breath as soon as Kaiba was out of earshot. He had no idea what to make of the situation happening before him. His memory was shot to hell, but not completely. With a headache slicing through his skull, Jonouchi couldn't really focus on remembering the details of a night full of drinking, when he was sure he didn't even really want to know what exactly they'd been doing together in Kaiba's bedroom, alone at night.
It wasn't rocket science to figure out.
Taking off his shirt and underwear, Jonouchi heaved out his frustration before opening the glass door to the elegant shower room Kaiba had set up. There were several shower heads instead of just one, along with a marble seat in the corner for relaxing. How nice that must be, while Jonouchi could barely fit into the shower he had in his crappy apartment.
Turning on the hot water, he hid under the largest shower head for a long time. The smell of sweat and Kaiba's musk eventually went away, along with the putrid stink of vomit and cheap beer. Jonouchi scrubbed at his skin and hair, using one of the clean washcloths and the plainest smelling bar of soap he could find before swiping off what appeared to be dried semen from his abdomen and groin.
How it managed to get that far up his chest, Jonouchi didn't even want to know. He'd never done that before.
And taking his hand back over to wipe his backside, he was horrified to find more crusted-over cum smeared all along the outside of his ass.
There was no denying it now, no matter how hard Jonouchi tried. All that tension between them must have finally burst, and since they had both probably been drinking, no one had been coherent enough to stop it. Jonouchi knew enough about sex to know the signs of when it had happened. He knew what he smelled like, even if Kaiba's scent was strange. Just like the pain he was feeling in what he now recognized was his anus.
Letting out an angry groan, Jonouchi pulled at his hair before closing his eyes and trying to get a hold on himself. Sure, it was humiliating to think about, but people did stupid things while drunk. It wasn't the end of the world. He now might not be able to look Kaiba in the face for a while without feeling utterly naked for a long time, but he didn't need to let one bad mistake get to him too badly...
Was it even a mistake? Clearly he'd gotten off from it, or else there wouldn't have been ejaculate all over the front of his body. Jonouchi could recall the night before more vividly when he closed his eyes and tried to think about it, but he didn't want to. He wanted to get out of Kaiba's house and get back home. Maybe if he was lucky, his dad would still be gone, and Jonouchi could sleep the rest of the day away, or at least stew in his misery alone.
Turning off the taps, Jonouchi stood still as he let the water drip from his hair, counting each droplet. He wasn't ready to face Kaiba. Maybe if he stretched his luck, Kaiba would have already abandoned him for one thing or another. Trailing puddles as he searched for a towel, Jonouchi brusquely dried off before gingerly stepping back into his boxers and pulling his shirt back on. At least sleeping mostly naked had spared his clothes the mess.
It appeared that luck wasn't with him that morning. Kaiba was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring off into space and absently drumming his fingers. The bed had been somewhat made—Kaiba had seemingly made an attempt to straighten out the sheets, and the rest of Jonouchi's clothing had been tossed on top. Although Kaiba still was dressed in his clothes from the previous day, at least he had buttoned most of his shirt up and zipped up his pants. He came to from the sharp snap of the door closing.
"Sorry for leaving the mess in your study; I'd stick around to clean it up, but I have to get going." That was a lie, though. Jonouchi didn't have work unless Kaiba needed him for something, but the last thing on earth he wanted was for that to happen. He needed to get out of that place, and quick.
"I guess I'll see you around, then."
"Wait, Jonouchi-" There was impatience in Kaiba's voice, and a sense of urgency. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he rose from the bed as he spoke, taking a step forward. Jonouchi couldn't tell exactly, but it seemed like there was almost a look of panic to Kaiba's face, as though he was...distraught?
That was insane. Why should he be distraught when Jonouchi was the one who had just-
He didn't want to go there. Never, never, never. He'd write this entire incident off as a one-off, never to be repeated.
Kaiba's expression shifted then to confusion. "Are you really going to leave without any pants on?" He shook his head and spoke again, "We need to talk about this."
Avoiding Kaiba's eyes, Jonouchi moved away from the door long enough to grab his jeans, yanking them on and fixing his shirt nervously before shaking his head a few times. "No, we don't. Shit happens...I have to go-"
He knew his expression appeared panicked, but Jonouchi didn't care. It wasn't in his nature to try hiding his feelings, and he darted for the door as quickly as he could before Kaiba tried getting another word in. They didn't need to talk about something that had clearly been a drunken mishap. It wasn't the first time Jonouchi had had sex under the influence, and probably wouldn't be the last. Unfortunately, from what he could remember of it, Kaiba had ended up being more exciting than Jonouchi's first partner, and that bothered him on so many levels he didn't want to even begin figuring out...
It could all wait. Ignoring the pain in his lower back and abdomen, Jonouchi shot down the stairs as quickly as he could before someone could try detaining him. Kaiba was acting strangely, and there was no telling how he'd react to being jilted. Jonouchi didn't plan on sticking around long enough to find out. His body ached, his hips felt bruised, and he wanted to sleep off his discomfort alone for a while until he felt more ready to face the rest of his day.
Shit, he had forgotten that he'd left his bag in Kaiba's office. Racing back up, Jonouchi darted into the room, sweeping up the Duel Monsters cards on the floor and knocking over a few bottles in his haste. Clutching his bag close to his chest, he ran back down the stairs, stepping into his shoes and nearly flying out the front door. Kaiba had been nowhere to be seen.
Double shit—Jonouchi had forgotten that he'd driven his bike over. Nothing he could do about it, though—it was either leave the thing at the mansion (and risk seeing Kaiba again, way too soon) or try his best to putter it home and not fall over in the process.
Slinging his bag across his chest, Jonouchi opted for the latter. It took him an embarrassing five tries before he was able to kickstart the engine to life, and then he shakily mounted it, pulling away from the mansion without looking back. He still felt sick to his stomach, and his head was now throbbing like it was being jackhammered, but all Jonouchi could think about was getting home.
He'd had to stop several times along the way, nearly retching in a side alley a mile away from his apartment. Leaning heavily on the railing as he pulled himself up the stairs, Jonouchi fumbled around for his keys, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
The apartment was unoccupied—the one little bit of luck in his morning so far. Jonouchi threw his keys upon the counter, flipped the deadbolt, and kicked out of his shoes. He stumbled hunched-over to his bedroom, closed the door behind him, and fell onto his futon. Cocooning himself in his top sheet, Jonouchi closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of his own room.
It was a small comfort in a morning full of uncomfortable events. Waking up next to Kaiba was something he'd never thought would happen, much less after a night of seemingly rough sex. But the thought that tickled at the back of his brain, that was much worse than the reality of the events, was that Jonouchi couldn't say he hadn't enjoyed it. And troubling him further, Jonouchi wasn't quite sure why the fact that it had been Kaiba didn't bother him so much as it should have. Jonouchi had slept with another man and had liked it, so what did that mean for him?
There was a kind of panic that set in when Jonouchi took off out of the bedroom that Kaiba hadn't ever felt before. He'd never felt out of control in a situation, not since he was thirteen. Not since Kaiba Gozaburo had been in his life did Kaiba Seto ever feel like he didn't have a handle on himself or the other people around him.
The return of that sinking kind of uncertainty was not welcome, and Kaiba had trouble shaking it off. He didn't know what to say to Jonouchi, even if he had stayed, yet he had needed to say something. Usually he never felt any obligation to continue communication after a hook-up; they had all been purely for his own personal needs. While Kaiba was never purposely callous towards any of his sexual partners, he never really cared too much about their own pleasure, either.
Now he felt doubt and embarrassment, almost. The kind of silliness teenage boys fretted over, not grown-ass adult men. Kaiba didn't like the feeling.
He was on his fourth cup of coffee, yet it had done nothing to soothe his nerves. Intellectually, Kaiba knew the stimulant would only have the reverse effect on his body, but coffee was an essential part of his daily ritual. It comforted him, signaling a proper start to a day: Pavlovian. He was grateful it was his day off—Kaiba admitted that he would have been useless at work had he needed to go in, and the fewer amount of people to witness him in this condition, the better. So far the morning was passing by in a daze, Kaiba drifting from room to room, being a general (if unintended) nuisance to his staff and being unable to just land.
Everything seemed to have a vestige of Jonouchi. The bedroom still smelled like him; the bathroom still had his dirty towel draped across the tiles. The office was still littered with Jonouchi's spent beer bottles. Their chess game in the study had never been reset. Even his lab had marks of Jonouchi—on the Dueling Machine, with Jonouchi's deck the last one loaded, and the doodles and tiny paper cranes Jonouchi had left scattered around while he'd waited for the computer to boot up before each training session.
It didn't leave Kaiba many places to go. He wanted to stay holed up at home, but there was nowhere he could be. And so Kaiba continued his nomadic sojourn throughout the mansion, pausing for brief moments in the kitchen, the media room, and the gardens, then back to the kitchen again for refills. He avoided the ballroom and his adoptive father's old study, a chill settling on his skin as he passed by each.
Kaiba couldn't shake off the uncertainty after Jonouchi have taken off on him. It was thoroughly vexing. There was no closure between them. They had just had sex, yet Kaiba had no idea why it had even happened in the first place...
He thought Jonouchi hated him. It didn't make any sense. One minute, he'd been practically screaming down his throat about what a horrible person Kaiba was, and then the next, Jonouchi had been trying to undress him. There had been a critical shift the night before, when Jonouchi had stopped fighting him and started to want him. Kaiba had even given Jonouchi an out during the entire mess, when reason had fleetingly returned to him, but Jonouchi hadn't taken it, instead willing him on…
And so the coldness had returned.
They'd been through this before, Kaiba noted regrettably as he meandered through the mansion. The very first time in the study, when a simple, immature game had changed into something else. And then the second time in the car after a failed dinner, when a plan to prove a point had backfired. Each time had been a cyclical series of cold-hot-cold, and this time wasn't any different. It was confusing, and even more so, since Kaiba himself wasn't even sure what to think of things.
He liked men. Jonouchi claimed to not. Yet somehow they kept drawing near to each other, despite full intentions to stay away. And everything that had happened between them, from Kaiba losing the Duel to the culmination of the night before was beginning to seem like some strange inevitability, like chemicals in a long, slow-burning reaction.
Really, when Kaiba thought about it, had his fate been sealed since high school? No one had ever registered on his external radar apart from Yugi. And Jonouchi. There had been no question about Yugi—he was Kaiba's rival, the only one who could ever match his own skill. There had been no reason to acknowledge Jonouchi's existence, and yet Kaiba had done just that every day of their high school career, from trading insults to petty squabbling to dueling. Jonouchi had a way of getting Kaiba's attention like no other person or thing could, getting under his skin until he became almost a fixture. It made no sense. What about the idiot made him this way?
Kaiba had never felt anything like how he had felt the night before, either. Before, sex had been merely the fulfillment of a physical need—simply applying maintenance to an adult body. There had only ever been one goal in mind, and the who or why of it wasn't of particular concern to Kaiba. Yet the night prior, with Jonouchi underneath him, Kaiba had yearned for some kind of gratification beyond the physical high.
It was terrifying. The tight grasp of control on which Kaiba dictated his life had been relinquished—first with a slip to Mokuba, and then completely to Jonouchi. The realization made Kaiba feel ill: a combination of sinking dread and nervous butterflies. He knew he wanted Jonouchi, but Kaiba didn't know what that even meant or entailed. For either of them. Or if Jonouchi even truly wanted anything of him, either.
Jonouchi wasn't gay. They didn't really like each other, at least on the surface. And Kaiba was treading on thin ice by starting something with an employee. Everything seemed to point to doomed from the start, but for some reason, Kaiba wasn't ready to let the possibility go.
He had never been one to just lie down and take the universe's beatings. Kaiba fought for what he wanted—faced every challenge head-on and ruthlessly pursued his ambitions. It's what had gotten him so far in life, and really the only way of living he knew.
And so Kaiba had wanted to talk to Jonouchi, even if he hadn't had the words to express the tumult of emotions he was feeling. To find out if Jonouchi was feeling the same way, or if Kaiba had really jumped off the deep end this time. To ask what had changed, and why Jonouchi had allowed things to escalate... Going so far as to encourage it. And where did they go from here, if anywhere at all?
His coffee had gone cold. Frowning, Kaiba returned once again to the kitchen, dumping the contents of his mug in the sink. He'd been circling the mansion for so long, lost in rumination, that he'd completely forgotten about the cup in his hand. Sighing, he went to pour another cup, hesitated, then decided against it. No amount of coffee was going to right his morning. Discarding his mug in the sink, Kaiba continued on his trail.
It was frustrating how Jonouchi just shut him out, bailing at the first opportunity that arose. He didn't even try acknowledging anything that had transpired between them—barely looking Kaiba in the eye that morning. The dismissal stung deep in Kaiba's chest.
He didn't like feeling anxious over another person. It was hard enough dealing with Mokuba, but now adding another person to his list of "I give a fuck"s was draining. Especially when he knew Jonouchi's feelings on the subject were probably not the same.
The first thing he'd done upon waking up was vomit in the toilet...
Scoffing, Kaiba turned his eyes away from the light of the outside window and went back to staring at the ground. He had better things to do with his time than dwelling over Jonouchi Katsuya. They'd see each other again soon, anyway. They still had business together, thanks to Kaiba's "genius" little power-trip idea (he could see now that he'd only done this to himself). Jonouchi would have to return, and Kaiba could figure out what to say then. They wouldn't be able to avoid each other for very long.
But still, he didn't want it stuck in his mind for the rest of the day, either.
Irritated and unable to express his frustration at the subject of his internal angst, Kaiba decided to just give up and go back upstairs. At first he was going to go back to his bedroom and clean up to spare his staff the remnants of his late-night activities, but instead, he paused at Mokuba's bedroom door.
He'd been gone for some time. Kaiba couldn't remember what they had even fought about. It had never occurred to him that Mokuba would actually pack up and leave. Even worse, not respond to any kind of contact Kaiba had tried to initiate. He didn't exactly understand why it had happened, but he couldn't allow it to continue like that anymore. It was too draining, on top of everything else.
Flipping his phone open, Kaiba stared at his brother's number. It wasn't a good time to be calling Mokuba. The time difference was terrible, and his brother probably wouldn't even pick up, anyway. But still, Kaiba didn't think he could continue on. having the two main people in his life (pathetic, he only had two) shun him when he needed someone to talk to...
So, letting out a heavy sigh of surrender, Kaiba made up his mind to apologize. It was probably the first time in a long time for him. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd said the words "I'm sorry," but maybe that was all Mokuba needed to hear to come back.
For the second time that day, Jonouchi woke up disoriented. It took a few moments for him to register where he was, and he couldn't tell how long he had been passed out. He had almost believed that the events of the previous night and that morning had been a dream, until he pulled himself up from his futon and felt the dull ache along his backside.
Flopping back down, Jonouchi lay still and silent, assessing his surroundings. It was still light outside—early afternoon, if the shadows dancing on his wall were any indication. He couldn't hear anything outside his door, so it was probable that his father still hadn't returned home. Crawling to a seated position, Jonouchi rubbed at his belly and sighed, working his way upright. He peeled off his clothes and dropped them into a pile, then sorted through his closet until he found something more towards the casual spectrum of his new wardrobe. He quickly dressed, poked through his bag to remove his dueling gear (he'd have to examine his cards later and ensure none of them had been damaged during his boozing session), and uncovered his cell phone at the bottom of it.
One missed call from his sister and two texts from Honda. Seeing the notifications made Jonouchi feel a little guilty—since he'd started the gig at KaibaCorp, he'd been so busy that his weekly check-ins with Shizuka had completely escaped his memory, and he'd all but ignored Honda. It was hard to keep in touch now that they weren't working together anymore, and Honda was taking night classes four days out of the week.
It was only a little after three in the afternoon—maybe he could catch Honda on the tail-end of his shift. Jonouchi didn't even care if the old dragon was there—maybe Fujiwara could show him how to rewire his bike so that the turn signals didn't glitch so much. Anything to take his mind off the present.
The shop, as always, was fairly empty when Jonouchi rolled up. The garage door was open, and Honda was busy wiping the grease from a set of wrenches.
"Dude," Honda called out, his face dirty and eyes widening in recognition, "what the hell happened to your face?"
Jonouchi paused mid-step before he recalled the bruise along his jaw. His mind had been so full of other things that he'd forgotten about it. Thinking fast, Jonouchi smiled weakly, rubbing a hand against the back of his head, "My old man stored some shit on top of the fridge—fell on me when I opened it the other day. Got nailed by a box of old dishes." He hated lying, but he just didn't want to get into it—he shouldn't still be his father's punching bag at twenty-one years of age.
"I wasn't born yesterday, Jonouchi. I know what a punch to the face looks like. Forget it. What are you doing here, anyways? Visiting the common people?"
Jonouchi snorted, tossing his bag on the floor and climbing up on the counter. His body still ached, but the familiar actions set him at ease, harkening back to a time when his life was much less complicated. "Got that right. How's the old dragon holding up?"
"He's fine. Already found some street urchin to replace you with," laughed Honda, "You know how he is. Business comes first. The new guy isn't as fun to hang around, though. Why didn't you stop by more?"
"Too damn busy," Jonouchi replied, swinging his legs back and forth, "Kaiba pretty much works me to the bone—you know how it is."
"No, I don't know." Honda smirked, peering at Jonouchi's new clothes before folding his arms and snorting, "All new clothes, huh? Not chic enough for Kaiba Corporation, so they gave you a new wardrobe? How generous of them."
Jonouchi tugged at his shirt and frowned. "Yeah, they're all too fancy over there. Something about blending in with the corporate culture or some shit. At least I didn't have to pay for any of it—it wasn't fun playing dress-up doll, though."
"...Kaiba played dress-up with you? What kind of freaky shit is that?" laughed Honda as he took out a clean rag to wipe his hands off with, "I'm surprised you let him pick out your clothes, even if he is paying you. Huh. At least they look good on you."
He grinned as Jonouchi frowned. "Anyways man, I was hoping to tell you once I saw you again that I, Honda Hiroto, have finally found the girl of my dreams."
"Oh?" Jonouchi's frown transformed into a sly grin, "Which magazine did you find her in?"
"Shut up, she's real. Works at the mall downtown in one of the maid cafes. She's really pretty." Honda shrugged and placed his hands on his hips before his grin spread even wider on his face, "And we've had sex, too."
"Congratulations on becoming an adult," Jonouchi teased. He missed having easy, meaningless conversations like these. "Nah man, I'm really happy for you, though. How long have you been going out?"
"About a month, steady. I knew her already before, though. Her dad came down here to have his ride fixed." Honda's eyes grew big before he started waving his hands across his chest nervously, smiling in his anxious way of his, "I'm not a creeper, though. I just ended up seeing her again and decided to talk to her, so we started hanging out."
Laughing at Honda's antics, Jonouchi picked up a few bolts from the countertop and started juggling them. "Whatever you say, dude. Just be careful that her dad doesn't run you over with the very bike you fixed. So what about her makes her your 'dream girl'?"
"I don't know... I just like her a lot. She's nice and smiles a lot and laughs at my stupid jokes. Isn't that enough?"
Jonouchi rolled around the thought in his mind. Honestly, he didn't really know. He couldn't think of anything particularly special about the girl he'd dated back at the end of high school. She had a pretty face and a large bosom, and she didn't mind that Jonouchi was half-American (she'd had a fascination with several Hollywood stars). She had a small yet safe rebellious streak, sneaking off into clubs in the middle of the night. She was just a normal high school girl, completely different from Mai's glamorous, fast lifestyle.
"I guess if that's what you're looking for," Jonouchi said.
"Are you even looking for anyone right now?" asked Honda before he sighed loudly and threaded his hair with his greasy fingers, "You've been single since forever. What's stopping you? Can't talk to girls, still?"
"Pfft, I think I know more girls now than I ever have, working at KaibaCorp. I dunno, I guess the right one just hasn't come along." Jonouchi certainly hadn't met any girl who could make his heart flutter. Mai had come close, but it had never gone anywhere, remaining as a schoolboy crush that eventually faded into friendship. In all honesty, he never had really tried to pursue anything with her, and Jonouchi had to wonder about that. She was gorgeous and sexy, had a killer body, and they had a lot in common. Why hadn't the interest been stronger?
"Oh really?" Honda laughed before smirking again, "What makes the right girl then for Jonouchi Katsuya?"
"I'll let you know when I find her!" Jonouchi answered, giving Honda a light punch on the shoulder. He was a little troubled to think that he really didn't have an answer to Honda's question.
"Yeah, sure you will..."
"I like surprises, anyway. What's the point in having a whole checklist? You just know when you meet someone, right? It could be any combination of things."
"Sure, Jonouchi," laughed Honda while shaking his head, "Didn't you have a girlfriend after we graduated high school, though? What happened with her?"
Jonouchi hopped down from the countertop, trailing around the garage and randomly examining pieces of equipment. "It just kind of fizzled out. She went off to Tokyo for college, and after her first holiday break, we just stopped seeing each other."
It wasn't quite like that. Jonouchi was purposely failing to explain the details: they had met up during the holidays and had had sex at her parents' apartment while they were gone on a trip. It had been a mortifying experience for Jonouchi. He had been extremely anxious to begin with, so much that he had a difficult time not allowing his nervousness to affect his ability to get aroused. Despite having a pretty girlfriend, too, her naked body just didn't do enough for him, and when it got down to it, Jonouchi lacked the stamina to really please her. He felt bad afterwards, and although they had tried again ("Because it happens to everyone," she had told him) with the aid of some liquid courage, Jonouchi eventually just let the relationship go. It had gotten more complicated than he had felt ready for at the time.
But maybe it was because of something else. Sure, he wasn't in the right place in his life to really be taking dating seriously. He was still just a dumb kid, and he didn't know what he wanted. Yugi had just left to go overseas, and Jonouchi had felt lost for a long time when the group had split up.
Yugi had been his anchor. Now, without anyone to rely on beside himself, Jonouchi felt caught in the tide of the motions. Sometimes Honda tried to help pull him out, but he never had tried hard enough. They were both comfortable at doing nothing, and Jonouchi lacked the confidence to really try pushing for a dueling career on his own. He could admit that much to himself now that things had changed for him.
And now he had Kaiba to consider. Jonouchi would have never bet on how the past few months had ended up. It was just the unlikeliest of possibilities—finally besting Kaiba, landing a professional sponsorship, and then his and Kaiba's whole convoluted relationship. Yes, he'd always wanted Kaiba as a friend, from the very first day he discovered their common love for the game. But after years and years of steadfast rejection, Jonouchi chalked up his whole encounter with Kaiba after that tournament as a fluke. Kaiba had made it clear that Jonouchi's overtures were unwanted, and everything after that was a kind of lighthearted amusement. If Kaiba ever broke down one day and said he'd wanted to be friends, Jonouchi would take it, but things were very different now.
Too complicated.
He wasn't ready to deal with any of it. Men had sex with women—it was just the natural order of things. But Jonouchi couldn't deny that his experience with Kaiba had been vastly different than his experience with a female. He had liked how he felt in the moment, and it had been easy to just let go and get carried away. It wasn't quite comfortable at the beginning (at all), but once it started becoming more pleasurable, it was more intense than having sex with a woman. Especially when Kaiba started jerking him off from behind, and Jonouchi was a little ashamed to realize he liked the lack of control he'd had over the situation. He didn't have to worry about trying to please someone else. Women were difficult...
But that all led back to the question, what did this all mean for him? Jonouchi had been on the receiving end the previous night. And while it was happening, he hadn't minded it—refusal had never even crossed his mind. And that bothered him. Really, really bothered him.
And why on earth would he allow Kaiba, of all the people he knew, to do that to him?
Jonouchi wished things were more simple for him. That he could be like Honda, who easily fell in love with girls because they all were pretty and interesting to him.
"You should go find a new girl, then. Someone at Kaiba Corporation," said Honda as he interrupted Jonouchi from his thoughts. "Maybe if you actually got laid for once in your life, you'd understand how it feels to be in love!"
Honda was ridiculous. Jonouchi made a face at that, rolling his eyes before replying, "If you fall in love with someone just because they let you put your dick in, that says more about you than me, pal."
Becoming flustered, Honda turned all shades of red before he started messing with his hair and his eyes grew huge with embarrassment. "I liked her before we slept together," he blurted angrily, "Sex didn't have everything to do with it, you dummy."
"But I bet it played a major part, right, Honda?"
He only snorted in response. Jonouchi knew he had won that round.
It would be like Honda to conflate the two. But Jonouchi knew that sex didn't equal love. He hadn't been in love with his ex-girlfriend when they had tried, and he certainly wasn't in love with Kaiba.
It was a preposterous notion. He didn't really know where his feelings for the man lay. In ways, Jonouchi looked up to Kaiba, but he also looked down on him. On the outside, Kaiba was the pinnacle of success. But Jonouchi knew better. In actuality, Kaiba was just sad. Sad and lonely and full of a slew of mental issues Jonouchi didn't want to touch. Watching Kaiba deteriorate the night before as Jonouchi had hurled insult after insult had been pitiful.
Jonouchi felt guilty about it. He never intended to be so hurtful, but the alcohol mixed with his anger had removed his filter. Every mean thought that had come to mind had spilled out of his mouth, and he hadn't even meant half of it. Jonouchi knew deep down that Mokuba didn't hate his brother—theirs was a bond that transcended the typical sibling relationship, and maybe that was part of their problem. But no one could deny their devotion to each other. Jonouchi had simply wanted to make Kaiba feel as shitty as he had felt, and it had felt good in the moment.
Upon reflection, Jonouchi really didn't even hate Kaiba, even if he still acted like an asshole most of the time. There had been a point in the past where he had, long ago, but Kaiba had changed since then, and so had he. Neither of them had been the best of people. It wasn't like that anymore, and Jonouchi knew it.
He should be the better man and apologize. Jonouchi didn't want Kaiba hating him, especially since Jonouchi would be his employee for the next couple of years, at the very least. They would have to put this behind them—all the animosity and messy emotions. Jonouchi wondered how long it would take to get back to normal.
Jonouchi circled back to Honda's words. If he didn't love Kaiba, but he had enjoyed having sex with him, then what did that mean? He didn't think he was attracted to men—it wasn't like any man had ever turned his eye before.
Although, Jonouchi had to admit, Kaiba was a good-looking guy. He was masculine, even if his face was pretty. Tall, well-muscled, nice eyes. It was no wonder the guy always ended up in celebrity rags as the city's most eligible bachelor. Objectively, Jonouchi could admit this.
So had it just been because it was Kaiba, or did Jonouchi…?
No, thinking about it wouldn't lead anywhere good. And it wouldn't do any good to continue with those thoughts—not when Jonouchi needed to try to repair things with the man. To get things back to how they were supposed to be.
"Honda, I'm gonna have to get going." They were losing sunlight. The last thing Jonouchi wanted right now was to run into thugs on his way home. Staying out past dark was just asking for trouble. "I'm sorry for not checking in on you like I should have; I'll do better next time, okay?"
"Yeah bud, you better not forget about me or replace me with some upper-class rich jerks!" Honda smiled, but his eyes showed that he meant what he said. They were best friends. Jonouchi planned to always keep it that way.
"Nah, I won't. Everyone at work is so stiff, they aren't as fun as hanging around you. I'll see you around, Honda."
Jonouchi grabbed his bag and left, giving the calico a scratch behind the ears before taking off on his bike. His visit with Honda hadn't really gone as he had intended. While it had been great to catch up and know that his friend was doing well, Honda had raised some questions to which Jonouchi didn't know the answers.
It was extremely troubling. And the worst part was that Jonouchi knew the only way he'd figure out those answers, whether he wanted to or not, would be by seeing Kaiba again. It was only a matter of time.