This chapter is rated M (the E kicks in in a few more chapters). Plot meets a bit of porn and a lot of emotions.
12: Covert Operations
Kaiba should have walked away.
Fifteen minutes ago, he climbed into the limo at Noa's insistence. The car's interior was dim, lit only by the soft panel lighting and the glow of Noa's phone screen. Despite the ample leg room, Kaiba couldn't put enough distance between him and Noa. He knew this meeting was a trap, and it couldn't have been a more obvious one unless neon lights were pointing to it and declaring it so.
He sat ramrod straight across from his older brother, searching for the smallest hint as to what he was thinking. Noa was nearly ten years his senior and they shared very little in common besides the same father. Noa also never hid the fact that he regarded Seto and Mokuba, both sons of Gozaburo's second wife, as somewhat lesser.
"Still running around as Father's attack dog then?" Kaiba held his head high, baring his teeth in an opening salvo.
Noa's expression darkened. "I am exactly as a filial and obedient son should be, and you are an ungrateful brat. Your little rebellious streak may have been cute when you were fourteen, but it's time to grow up and fall into line."
He sneered. "Is that why Father is reaching out after a year of the silent treatment? Am I embarrassing him and his company?"
Granted, the lack of communication was a two-way street. When he left home, it was with the full intention of never speaking to his father again. As for embarrassing Gozaburo, Kaiba could only hope that was true. The only thing better would be to hit his father's pride where it'd hurt most: in his purse.
"As always, you think too highly of yourself, Seto." Noa looked and spoke as if he pitied Kaiba. He lifted his phone again, signaling the end of their conversation.
Kaiba swallowed the urge to take a swing at him— a big black and blue bruise could only improve Noa's smug face. He directed his attention out the tinted windows, where the streets of Shizuoka began teeming with life. The limo passed by the fighter's hotel. He had been too focused on Noa to notice before, but they were driving in circles.
"What is the meaning of this? You said Father wanted to talk," he demanded.
Without looking up from his phone's screen, Noa said stoically, "Father has an appointment he needs to finish up first. He will call us when he's ready."
Bile clawed its way up Kaiba's throat. "He couldn't be bothered to come in—"
A new voice cut in from his left. "I have business in Hamburg, boy. It takes priority."
Stiffening further, he turned his head slowly to face the holographic screen now projected over the limo's partition. Kaiba Gozaburo stared back through the video connection, radiating disapproval and judgment from behind a work desk. Rain rolled off the windows behind Gozaburo in torrential waves. A flash of lightning arced across the dark and gray sky, briefly illuminating the jutting church spires in the background.
"Good evening, Father," Noa greeted automatically like a mindless doll.
Gozaburo grunted in response. He shuffled some papers around as he spoke briskly and authoritatively, "I have another meeting in ten minutes, so I'm going to get straight to the point, boy—"
The first mistake was letting Gozaburo take the lead. That was as good as ceding control. "No, I'm not coming back," Kaiba spat.
He no longer needed the Kaiba name, and he didn't want anything else of his father's. He was proud of his accomplishments over the past few months, and he wasn't going to let anyone— least of all, this dinosaur from a forsaken age— take that away from him.
Without missing a beat or looking up, Gozaburo replied, "That doesn't matter. Listen to me carefully, boy, I will only say this once. You will tell me how Plavsky particles are manufactured."
"You're insane if you think I'm going to do any such thing," Kaiba hissed at the screen.
"These Plavsky particles are wasted on the likes of unambitious idiots like Mashita. Of all the potential military applications, Mashita uses them to play war games," Gozaburo screwed his face in disgust. "Seto, you will learn their secrets and deliver them to the Kaiba Corporation. You will do this for your family."
Kaiba didn't know why the universe was pulling this sick prank, but he wasn't going to stick around to watch it play out. He laughed, hollow and brittle, then he addressed the impassive Noa flatly, "Stop the car. I've heard enough."
"Don't be stubborn, little brother. You should listen to Father, it's in your best interest."
No, continuing to maintain as much distance as possible from Noa and Gozaburo was in his best interest. It had been working well for all the parties involved. Kaiba had his own life— a life he was becoming content with. Gozaburo, and by extension Noa, had no right to barge into that life and make demands of him. He reached for the door handle. He would jump out of the moving vehicle if necessary.
"Call him, call Mokuba." Gozaburo's words may have originated from thousands of miles away, but they hit as solidly as if he had swung a beefy fist from across the limo.
Kaiba dialed his little brother, willing his hands to not shake and his heart to stop racing. Ringing filled the limo's interior, emanating from Noa's side and resonating off the dark leather. Noa pulled out a second phone from an inner pocket. It was blue, and a 00 Qan[T] sticker was plastered across the back. Noa lifted it to his mouth and said, "Hello."
Through the speakers, the echoes of Noa's "hello" rumbled in Kaiba's ears. Rage coursed through his veins. "You used Mokuba to draw me out, like cowards. What did you do to him?"
Noa calmly cut the call and replaced Mokuba's cellphone into his pocket. "We caught Mokuba at the train station here in Shizuoka ten days ago. He was quite excited to see you play in the tournament, but he was supposed to come home to Domino for summer vacation. As punishment, he has been sent to London with Daimon, who has been given strict orders to monitor all of Mokuba's communications. Whether or not he returns to Japan in the fall will be entirely up to you, Seto."
He glared back at his father, forever distant. "You would use one son to blackmail another son," he gritted out through gnashing teeth. "Leave Mokuba out of this, if you're trying to punish me for leaving—"
Gozaburo looked down his nose at him. "Don't presume to know what my intentions are, boy. You're exactly where I want you to be. As Meijin Kawaguchi, you are in a prime position to carry out this assignment."
Kaiba clenched his hands; his knuckles turning ghostly white and his blunt nails digging hard enough into his palm to almost break skin. "You're lying. You always hated that I chose Gunpla battles over the company. Now you think you can beg favors from me by acting you as if you're omniscient."
He was all too familiar with Gozaburo's mind games. He was Meijin Kawaguchi today because of his own choices— his alone and no one else's.
He needed to be able to believe that.
"No, I tolerated your hobby," Gozaburo sneered. "Did you really think I wouldn't have been able to stop you if I wanted to? You may have deluded yourself into thinking otherwise, but I have absolute control of your life, Seto. I allowed you to think your pathetic little acts of rebellion had meaning and effect. You would either become the next Meijin or not waste your time on these toys at all. I taught my sons to settle for nothing short of the very best."
Desperation tore at his insides. He struggled to rein in his emotions, but everything was spiraling out of his control too quickly. "You're wasting your time. I don't know anything about the Plavsky particles."
It was also the truth.
"Maybe not now, but you can be resourceful, Seto. You are their prized fighter."
"I am not your pawn!" Kaiba screamed as his control snapped. His chest heaved as he struggled to draw in enough air to fill his lungs.
The phone in his hand buzzed— Jounouchi was calling. Something close to panic wormed its way into his heart.
"Maybe not a pawn, more like my rook," Gozaburo smiled condescendingly. He leaned in toward the camera and his image towered over them in the limo like a monstrous giant. "You are nothing without me, Seto. I made you who you are today. I paved the path to your becoming Meijin Kawaguchi. You would never have made it this far if my agents hadn't eliminated the obstacles before you. So take care not to become an obstacle yourself, boy."
Kaiba felt the blood drain from his face, and the phone fell as still as the grave.
-x-x-x-
Kaiba didn't know how he made it back to the hotel, back to the sixth floor, and back to his room door. His mind buzzed. The static droning threatened to drown out every other thought in his head. The meeting had been a power play from the very start— a reminder that Kaiba had never been in control of the things that really mattered. He left the limo numb, resurfacing in a world entirely blind and deaf to his predicament. Yes, he hurt, but it was buried under layers and layers of seething outrage and hate.
Something should have been different, but the rest of the world refused to acknowledge the injustices committed against him.
He once told Jounouchi that was no such thing as a "fair fight" in the real world, one of the few lessons he had taken to heart from his father. Gozaburo would now apply that lesson ruthlessly. He needed to regain control. He needed to prove he was more than Gozaburo's pawn. He glanced briefly at Jounouchi's door before wrenching the handle on his.
The curtains were thrown open. From the doorway, he spotted Jounouchi lounging in one of the chairs with a manga in hand. He stepped inside the threshold and let the door fall shut behind him. His feet took him as far as the center of the room, but he was unable to take the last few steps to reach Jounouchi.
Jounouchi started— his face melting into a smile as soon as he saw Kaiba. "Hey, where've you been? I tried calling you a while ago."
Kaiba stood frozen, a storm of emotions raging inside him. He became aware he was still breathing heavily. Jounouchi's expression slowly morphed into heartfelt concern.
"You shouldn't be here," he choked out at last.
As he stood, Jounouchi dropped his book in the chair and moved swiftly to close the gap between them. Kaiba wanted to shrink back, but his body was paralyzed by everything.
"Hey, Kaiba, you can talk to me," Jounouchi said softly and reached up to gently touch his left cheek. "Tell me what's wrong."
The contact shook him from his stupor, and it burned like a brand on his skin. "Why do you care?" The words came out harsher than he intended, but his body was drawn as taut as a bowstring.
Jounouchi's face twisted suddenly with hurt and rejection. "Of course, I care. Because I'm your builder. I'm your friend!"
The buzzing intensified as red crept in from the edge of his vision. Something snapped.
One hand found purchase in Jounouchi's hair, while the other landed on his waist. He didn't pull Jounouchi toward him, but threw his body against him. Kaiba yanked his head back and meshed their mouths together with urgency, causing Jounouchi to gasp in pain and their teeth to knock. It sent an unpleasant sensation rattling through Kaiba's jaw and down his spine, but he persisted. Whether because of the angle or basic incompatibility, their lips glanced over each other.
The very idea only infuriated Kaiba further. He pressed harder, trying to force a fit. The sudden taste of iron caused his resolve to waver. A hard blow to his stomach drove what air remained from his lungs and loosened his grip on Jounouchi. Jounouchi roughly shove him away and Kaiba doubled over, now acutely aware of a wet and stinging sensation welling on his lower lip. He lifted a shaky hand to his mouth and pressed two fingers to the bleeding cut.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jounouchi's words tasted raw.
Kaiba slowly lifted his head. The motion took some effort— his head was swimming, his senses dulled by the mix of pain and rage. Jounouchi stared wide-eyed, like he didn't recognize Kaiba anymore. Kaiba gave a low and breathy laugh. It was fitting— he didn't recognize himself either.
Something else was shining— smoldering in Jounouchi's eyes. He wore an achingly familiar expression— one that Kaiba has seen in the mirror before. The world snapped back into focus, overly bright and almost blinding. His nerve-endings sang, shrill and needy. And Kaiba felt more in that one moment than the rest of his lifetime combined. He would be reckless and free— he would become everything that he was taught not to be.
He straightened, rolling his neck to ease the tension squeezing around his temples. "Friend, you said friend, but it's not that simple between you and me, is it?"
He stalked up to Jounouchi, pleased when Jounouchi barely flinched and didn't draw back. "Don't lie to me, Jounouchi. You have done nothing but insinuate yourself into every nook and cranny of my life since the day we met. You've made me dependent on you, you've pushed and demanded that I give you every piece of myself. You don't want something as simple as friendship, because people don't look at their friends with that expression." Kaiba finished with a hiss and a sharp jab to Jounouchi's chest.
Up close, Jounouchi's eyes widened and dilated like a deer caught in headlights. His breath raced in and out of his open mouth. "I don't— You're wrong."
Fear was as a foreign sight in Jounouchi as vindictiveness.
He lifted one hand to Jounouchi's cheek, cupping it gently. "Then tell me why you wanted to be my builder so badly. Tell me why you stayed after I insulted and demeaned you. Don't disappoint me now, Jounouchi. Don't be a coward."
Accusing him of being a coward was a low blow, but it elicited the exact reaction Kaiba hoped for. Jounouchi reached up and knocked off the baseball cap, grabbed the back of Kaiba's neck, and yanked him forward.
Kaiba had been wrong. He wasn't pulled into Jounouchi's orbit; they were caught up in each other's gravity. Now they were colliding, lips crashing together in a cacophony of moans. With Jounouchi's guidance, their second kiss managed to be more lips than teeth or nose. Perhaps that was the benefit of experience.
He growled, stuffed a hand under Jounouchi's t-shirt while the other winded in the shirt fabric, and stroked the abdominal muscles quivering under his fingertips. Jounouchi arched up, gasping— the sound quickly swallowed by Kaiba before it could escape from between them. Kaiba rubbed the exposed skin harder, wanting to wring every bit of noise from Jounouchi. Hot: everything about Jounouchi was fire hot— a stark contrast to Kaiba's icy numbness. Kaiba pressed closer, thrilled to his core when Jounouchi answer in kind. Better to burn alive than live this farce of a half-life.
Kissing Jounouchi was more than a bit like battling. Unlike Jounouchi's battle skills, his experience shone through as he stirred Kaiba's desire for more. They traded blows with their tongues, conquering and ceding territory along their lips with a nudge here and grasping fingers there. Were the situation not so desperate seeming, Kaiba might even be tempted to make a joke about beam sabers. Talking or joking meant breathing though, and Kaiba was sure he was quite over the idea now. It was too bad fire smothered without oxygen.
Jounouchi pulled away, but kept both hands planted around Kaiba's neck. His eyes half-lidded by desire. "Kai—"
Catching Jounouchi's lower lip in his teeth, he muttered against the flesh, "Seto, call me Seto."
It didn't pay to be a Kaiba. Unless you were Gozaburo himself, a Kaiba was nothing more than a pawn in some mad tyrant's game of real-life chess. Kaibas did not love, they did not cherish, and they did not live. They also didn't get to keep people like Jounouchi Katsuya at their sides. If possible, he would incinerate his cursed name with the heat rising between them.
"Seto," Jounouchi smiled a silly, love-struck grin, and Kaiba's too-small heart tightened for too many reasons.
Kaiba didn't want to answer the questions still shining in Jounouchi's eyes. All he wanted was to drown in this moment and forget the rest. He kissed Jounouchi again, hard and bruising, and pulled him flush against his body.
They tumbled onto one of the hotel beds, fighting and clawing at each other's clothing. He pushed Jounouchi's shirt up to expose the rest of his golden skin. Jounouchi retaliated by ripping the buttons loose on his shirt, and surged forward to attack Kaiba's collarbone. The feel of teeth scraping across his skin sent a jolt of mind-dizzying lust straight to Kaiba's groin. With a grunt of triumph, Kaiba freed Jounouchi's growing erection from his pants, wrapped a hand around the shaft, and stroked.
"Fuck," Jounouchi threw his head back, banging against the headboard and shaking the entire bed-frame. "Fuck."
Giddy and high, Kaiba smirked. He tightened his fist and stroked harder and faster. Jounouchi's entire body arched off the mattress that time. Jounouchi grabbed the loosened lapels of Kaiba's shirt and dragged him down for another breath-stealing kiss. As their tongues tasted and caressed each other, Jounouchi wrenched open his fly and jammed a reciprocating hand down Kaiba's boxers to palm his rock-hard cock.
They panted into each other's mouth; both racing to bring the other to completion first. Sweat rolled down Kaiba's back in heavy drops. He couldn't tear his eyes from Jounouchi's flushed and tortured face. He did this. He was making Jounouchi feel this way.
"Jounouchi," he choked. Kaiba was lost, and he was burning up in Jounouchi's fire.
Suddenly Jounouchi twisted his grip, and the orgasm hit Kaiba like a freight train. He spilled himself into Jounouchi's hand with a moan and a shudder.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come too. Seto. Seto."
Jounouchi came with a shout and a frantic thrust of his hips, pulsing between Kaiba's fingers and painting a strip of come across his chest.
-x-x-x-
The room reeked of sex, and the mess drying across his stomach and ruined shirt felt tacky. Kaiba pried open heavy-laden eyelids and tracked the sun's journey across the sky based on the light reflected across his ceiling. It was late afternoon. Jounouchi was a comfortable weight pillowed against one shoulder, snoring ever so softly. But Kaiba's arm was numb, having fallen asleep sometime while they napped. Carefully, he shifted Jounouchi's weight— circulation returned as pins and needles stabbing up the length of his arm.
Jounouchi burrowed closer as he stirred. He blinked owlishly without lifting his head from Kaiba's shoulder. "What time is it?"
He hadn't the energy to reach for his phone or turn his head to see the clock. "Around 3 or 4, we slept for a while," Kaiba's voice cracked from disuse.
Jounouchi snickered. "You sound like you swallowed a frog."
He reached over and swatted Jounouchi's ass in retaliation.
"Don't do that, you bastard!" Jounouchi squawked, before propping himself up on one arm. He studied Kaiba's face with renewed worry. "Are you okay? This morning—"
In one swift motion, he rolled on top of Jounouchi, bringing them precariously close to the edge of the cramped bed. He kissed Jounouchi eagerly, attempting to drive the half-voiced question from his lips and mind. The tension slowly eased as Jounouchi returned the kiss and wound his arms around Kaiba's waist. He knew he wouldn't be able to fend off Jounouchi's curiosity forever, but he'd buy whatever time he could.
The clock was ticking.