Foster Care Rambling...
Am poking Foster Care with a stick. Have still not resolved first-time smex dilemma but since that's, like, light-years away from any part I've actually got written...I s'pose it doesn't really matter. XD.
On the other hand -- my brain refuses to settle down and write the next damn part. It's like, "It's boring!" And, like, yeah it is, but it must be written kinda like the Ryo/Edo bdsm pr0n that is calling to me...er...what? XDDD Hey episode 128 kinda proves it...I mean Edo is lounging and watching Ryo duel Johan...you know they were going at it...how else did Shephard, Pegasus, and co. get Ryo to agree to help save his former classmates? C'mon, you know Edo had to offer up his ass....though we also know he liked it...just ask immicolia XD.
So then I decided to expand on Seto's part of the tale that I began with the_sweet's timedrabble meme request:
***
He makes her walk it off.
Step by grueling step.
And it’s not like he’s much better off, on the nod as he is, with the world spiraling in and out of focus.
But it’s either he makes her walk it off, or he’s going to have to call an ambulance, and he’s not sure he’s in any sort of condition to manage something that requires as much dexterity as punching buttons on a phone.
(And he couldn’t even say the word dexterous either at this point.)
She’s at least mostly conscious, which is a good thing because he’s not sure he can force an unconscious person to throw up without choking, and she’s going to have to throw up at some point.
So will he actually, but he needs to hold it together.
Step by grueling step.
***
He wakes up hard. Anzu’s pressed up along his back, her breasts and breath soft against him, and he resists the urge to roll over and tumble her backwards till he’s snug between her thighs. Grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop that dirty fantasy and at his movement, she mumbles something into his neck, her lips making him remember (as if he could forget) the night before.
(-- how he’d had that sweet mouth of hers. Had her artless gasps in his ear. Cupped his hand against her - thumb rubbing, fingers pressing as far up as he could through her panties - feeling the tight and the slick, feeling her flex and arch -)
He could have that now, he knows. She’d be lax and pliant with sleep, and by the time she was awake enough to care, he could be making her feel so good that she wouldn’t care.
(-- he could push aside that damnable, flimsy barrier of her panties and touch her for real - no more pretense - and she’d be even tighter than last night, and when she came around his fingers, she’d moan out his name and -- )
And he knows that this is a terrible line of thought. Because it’s one thing to mess around when he was smashed to cloud nine and she wasn’t far behind but quite another to -
“Christ,” he mutters, pulling away from Anzu’s dangerous warmth and sitting up on the side of the bed.
And Anzu mumbles something again.
“Go back to sleep,” he tells her, just like he tells Mokuba or, rather, just like he told Mokuba before Mokuba went to the Mazakis and started curling up next to Anzu instead of curling up next to him.
Of course, Mokuba’s the safest thought at the moment, and so he closes his eyes and imagines that his little brother is here - between them - until his erection begins to subside.
Decides that he better take a shower. Just in case.
The clock-radio at the side of the bed says it’s almost eight o’clock, and he winces. He’s going to be late picking Mokuba up from the Mazakis, and he’s going to be late the office, and he’ll probably be late for the meeting with the European distributors.
He stands up, finding his suit-jacket still laying where Anzu shrugged out of it early this morning. Finds his dress-shirt not far from there and then finds (oddly enough) Anzu’s cell-phone.
There are about a half-dozen missed calls, mostly from Yoshiko (or rather what the phone recognizes as “home”), a few from Yugi, and one from Honda. And he knows he’s going to have to do some damage control. Some very fast damage control.
And really, why the hell had she gotten so drunk? Next time he’d have to -
There won’t be a next time, Seto reminds himself, as he quietly but firmly shuts the bathroom door behind him. Hangs his suit jacket (and it smells like her, dammit) and dress-shirt on the towel rack and tries not too look at his too-thin, too-drawn face in the mirror.
Hits the ‘return call’ button on Anzu’s cell and waits for Yugi to answer.
“Anzu? What are you calling so early -“ Yugi’s sleep-fuzzed voice starts to say before he wakes up enough to remember (Seto assumes) the night before. “Anzu! Where have you been? Your mom’s been calling, and we’re all so worried and - “
“Yugi,” he says, interrupting the other boy.
There’s a shocked silence over the line, and Seto idly wonders how he’d feel if another boy were using his girlfriend’s cell-phone to call at what (to a normal teenager) would be the crack of dawn. Especially when said girlfriend had been missing for much of the previous night.
“Kaiba-kun,” Yugi eventually says, and Seto can hear the jealousy the other boy’s trying to hide behind worry. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” Seto says. “She went out with me last night, and we wound up crashing out by the docks.”
“If she’s all right, why are you calling me?” Yugi points out. “And not her?”
“She’s sleeping.” Seto leans back up against the bathroom door. “Look, we can play twenty questions all morning, or you can shut-up and let me explain.”
He hears silence over the line again, punctuated by Yugi’s grinding jaw, and he decides that Yugi has decided to listen to his suggestion.
“She really can’t carry her liquor,” he says. “Not that’s such a surprise: she’s such a little thing. So she’s sleeping it off, and I need you to call up Yoshiko and say that Anzu kept me from doing anything stupid last night and that I dropped her off at your place on my way to work this morning.”
“And why would I do that?” Yugi asks him, and Seto hears that deeper echo of the voice he uses when dueling. “Why shouldn’t I call up the Mazakis and tell them exactly what I think you were doing last night and that you dragged Anzu around with you before you passed out in a deserted building somewhere.” And left Anzu disorientated and unprotected and quite possibly to get raped is left unspoken but very much there in the silence that follows.
“You should,” Seto agrees. “But you won’t.”
He ends the call because there’s nothing more to be said: Yugi will do what Seto asked of him, and Anzu will stay out of trouble. Or rather, stay out of the additional trouble of staying out all night without a decent excuse. Yugi’s a rotten liar, but so long as he manages to say Anzu came over early this morning, Yoshiko will think he’s only trying to cover up the fact that Anzu had been drinking.
He sets the cell phone down on the counter, starts the shower, and strips out of his suit trousers. Steps into the shower, fumbling around for the cheap hotel shampoo he knows is there.
Knows he could have explained the whole thing better if he wanted, but he also knows he’s a sick, twisted fuck and wanted Yugi jealous.
Wants Yugi to wonder if Anzu wrapped those luscious legs of hers around Seto’s waist, grabbed at Seto’s shoulders with those stupidly polished nails, pressed her breasts up against Seto’s chest. Wants Yugi seething at the thought of his girlfriend drunk and desperate for someone other than himself. Wants to be back in bed with Anzu and kissing her neck until it bruises, so that the next time Yugi sees her, Yugi will know.
Know that she’s not Yugi’s. That she’s his. And to stay the fuck away.
And he’s hard again (of course), and despite his best efforts not to (because although this might not be the sickest thing he’s ever done, it's still agonizingly horrible to give in to the fantasy of destroying Anzu's relationship with Yugi), he’s soon fisting his cock and thinking of her (as if he weren’t before). And when he comes, hard and messy and with the sound of the shower pounding in his ears, it’s to the memory of how she moved like liquid mercury on his lap.
Afterwards, he slumps against the shower wall, letting the water wash away his most recent sin, and he tells himself that this is the absolute end. That this can’t go on, and that the next time he’s going to go on a bender, he’s going to do so far, far away from Mazaki Anzu and her pouty pink lips.
On the other hand -- my brain refuses to settle down and write the next damn part. It's like, "It's boring!" And, like, yeah it is, but it must be written kinda like the Ryo/Edo bdsm pr0n that is calling to me...er...what? XDDD Hey episode 128 kinda proves it...I mean Edo is lounging and watching Ryo duel Johan...you know they were going at it...how else did Shephard, Pegasus, and co. get Ryo to agree to help save his former classmates? C'mon, you know Edo had to offer up his ass....though we also know he liked it...just ask immicolia XD.
So then I decided to expand on Seto's part of the tale that I began with the_sweet's timedrabble meme request:
***
He makes her walk it off.
Step by grueling step.
And it’s not like he’s much better off, on the nod as he is, with the world spiraling in and out of focus.
But it’s either he makes her walk it off, or he’s going to have to call an ambulance, and he’s not sure he’s in any sort of condition to manage something that requires as much dexterity as punching buttons on a phone.
(And he couldn’t even say the word dexterous either at this point.)
She’s at least mostly conscious, which is a good thing because he’s not sure he can force an unconscious person to throw up without choking, and she’s going to have to throw up at some point.
So will he actually, but he needs to hold it together.
Step by grueling step.
***
He wakes up hard. Anzu’s pressed up along his back, her breasts and breath soft against him, and he resists the urge to roll over and tumble her backwards till he’s snug between her thighs. Grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop that dirty fantasy and at his movement, she mumbles something into his neck, her lips making him remember (as if he could forget) the night before.
(-- how he’d had that sweet mouth of hers. Had her artless gasps in his ear. Cupped his hand against her - thumb rubbing, fingers pressing as far up as he could through her panties - feeling the tight and the slick, feeling her flex and arch -)
He could have that now, he knows. She’d be lax and pliant with sleep, and by the time she was awake enough to care, he could be making her feel so good that she wouldn’t care.
(-- he could push aside that damnable, flimsy barrier of her panties and touch her for real - no more pretense - and she’d be even tighter than last night, and when she came around his fingers, she’d moan out his name and -- )
And he knows that this is a terrible line of thought. Because it’s one thing to mess around when he was smashed to cloud nine and she wasn’t far behind but quite another to -
“Christ,” he mutters, pulling away from Anzu’s dangerous warmth and sitting up on the side of the bed.
And Anzu mumbles something again.
“Go back to sleep,” he tells her, just like he tells Mokuba or, rather, just like he told Mokuba before Mokuba went to the Mazakis and started curling up next to Anzu instead of curling up next to him.
Of course, Mokuba’s the safest thought at the moment, and so he closes his eyes and imagines that his little brother is here - between them - until his erection begins to subside.
Decides that he better take a shower. Just in case.
The clock-radio at the side of the bed says it’s almost eight o’clock, and he winces. He’s going to be late picking Mokuba up from the Mazakis, and he’s going to be late the office, and he’ll probably be late for the meeting with the European distributors.
He stands up, finding his suit-jacket still laying where Anzu shrugged out of it early this morning. Finds his dress-shirt not far from there and then finds (oddly enough) Anzu’s cell-phone.
There are about a half-dozen missed calls, mostly from Yoshiko (or rather what the phone recognizes as “home”), a few from Yugi, and one from Honda. And he knows he’s going to have to do some damage control. Some very fast damage control.
And really, why the hell had she gotten so drunk? Next time he’d have to -
There won’t be a next time, Seto reminds himself, as he quietly but firmly shuts the bathroom door behind him. Hangs his suit jacket (and it smells like her, dammit) and dress-shirt on the towel rack and tries not too look at his too-thin, too-drawn face in the mirror.
Hits the ‘return call’ button on Anzu’s cell and waits for Yugi to answer.
“Anzu? What are you calling so early -“ Yugi’s sleep-fuzzed voice starts to say before he wakes up enough to remember (Seto assumes) the night before. “Anzu! Where have you been? Your mom’s been calling, and we’re all so worried and - “
“Yugi,” he says, interrupting the other boy.
There’s a shocked silence over the line, and Seto idly wonders how he’d feel if another boy were using his girlfriend’s cell-phone to call at what (to a normal teenager) would be the crack of dawn. Especially when said girlfriend had been missing for much of the previous night.
“Kaiba-kun,” Yugi eventually says, and Seto can hear the jealousy the other boy’s trying to hide behind worry. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine,” Seto says. “She went out with me last night, and we wound up crashing out by the docks.”
“If she’s all right, why are you calling me?” Yugi points out. “And not her?”
“She’s sleeping.” Seto leans back up against the bathroom door. “Look, we can play twenty questions all morning, or you can shut-up and let me explain.”
He hears silence over the line again, punctuated by Yugi’s grinding jaw, and he decides that Yugi has decided to listen to his suggestion.
“She really can’t carry her liquor,” he says. “Not that’s such a surprise: she’s such a little thing. So she’s sleeping it off, and I need you to call up Yoshiko and say that Anzu kept me from doing anything stupid last night and that I dropped her off at your place on my way to work this morning.”
“And why would I do that?” Yugi asks him, and Seto hears that deeper echo of the voice he uses when dueling. “Why shouldn’t I call up the Mazakis and tell them exactly what I think you were doing last night and that you dragged Anzu around with you before you passed out in a deserted building somewhere.” And left Anzu disorientated and unprotected and quite possibly to get raped is left unspoken but very much there in the silence that follows.
“You should,” Seto agrees. “But you won’t.”
He ends the call because there’s nothing more to be said: Yugi will do what Seto asked of him, and Anzu will stay out of trouble. Or rather, stay out of the additional trouble of staying out all night without a decent excuse. Yugi’s a rotten liar, but so long as he manages to say Anzu came over early this morning, Yoshiko will think he’s only trying to cover up the fact that Anzu had been drinking.
He sets the cell phone down on the counter, starts the shower, and strips out of his suit trousers. Steps into the shower, fumbling around for the cheap hotel shampoo he knows is there.
Knows he could have explained the whole thing better if he wanted, but he also knows he’s a sick, twisted fuck and wanted Yugi jealous.
Wants Yugi to wonder if Anzu wrapped those luscious legs of hers around Seto’s waist, grabbed at Seto’s shoulders with those stupidly polished nails, pressed her breasts up against Seto’s chest. Wants Yugi seething at the thought of his girlfriend drunk and desperate for someone other than himself. Wants to be back in bed with Anzu and kissing her neck until it bruises, so that the next time Yugi sees her, Yugi will know.
Know that she’s not Yugi’s. That she’s his. And to stay the fuck away.
And he’s hard again (of course), and despite his best efforts not to (because although this might not be the sickest thing he’s ever done, it's still agonizingly horrible to give in to the fantasy of destroying Anzu's relationship with Yugi), he’s soon fisting his cock and thinking of her (as if he weren’t before). And when he comes, hard and messy and with the sound of the shower pounding in his ears, it’s to the memory of how she moved like liquid mercury on his lap.
Afterwards, he slumps against the shower wall, letting the water wash away his most recent sin, and he tells himself that this is the absolute end. That this can’t go on, and that the next time he’s going to go on a bender, he’s going to do so far, far away from Mazaki Anzu and her pouty pink lips.