Souvenir

Disclaimer: Just own the words, not the folks.

You Pay

I can’t stop smiling. Not since Mokuba’s call last night and the e-mail he sent a few minutes later. Knowing that I can now “talk” to him anytime I want has made me happier than I thought possible.

I dig into tonight’s meal of Sukiyaki Kwansai with relish, eager to finish and go back to my room to IM my brother.

“Slow down, Seto. You don’t want to choke,” Yami cautions.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I just want to catch Mokuba online before he goes to the museum with his class this afternoon.”

“So, you have a little brother?” Raphael prods. I’m surprised that it’s taken him this long to mention Mokuba. After seeing my brother in the front room that day, I half expected him to come barreling in here not long after, demanding an explanation.

“He was adopted by a nice family and lives in Egypt,” I explain, flicking my eyes to Yami in an effort to find out what he’s told Raphael. A slight shake of his head is my silent confirmation.

Judging by the narrowing of his eyes, it’s a gesture not missed by Raphael, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he changes the subject of conversation for our suddenly somber meal.

When I come downstairs again after ‘talking’ to Mokuba for about twenty minutes, I hear Yami and Raphael arguing for the first time in months.

“C’mon, Yami! A laptop? First it’s clothes, and then it’s redecorating his room, then a Discman, then a TV and now a laptop! And you still don’t see that you’re doing the same thing you did with Otogi?”

“It’s not the same! Why won’t you let go of that already? It’s been, what, six years? If I can get over it, why can’t you?”

“Because you obviously can’t help making the same mistakes over and over! Somebody has to keep an eye on you, since you don’t care about your own life!”

“Now, you’re being ridiculous, Raph. What do you have against Seto anyway?”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about that kid, Yami, but you have to admit that you’re going pretty far overboard for someone you know nothing about!”

“I’m not. And I know more about him than you think,” Yami asserts.

“Right; I caught that little exchange at dinner. Are you going to take his brother in now too?”

“I’m done with this conversation. You’re obviously not going to listen to reason,” Yami snarls, heading toward my vantage point just outside the kitchen door.

“Fine, Yami,” Raphael snaps. “But when this one rips your heart out too, don’t come looking for me to pick up the pieces.”

He storms past Yami and out of the kitchen, nearly knocking me down. After acknowledging me with a nasty sneer, he slams out the front door.

Yami stares after him for a minute before offering me a weak smile and heading back into the kitchen.

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After his fight with Raphael, I expect Yami to be distant, but he’s the same as ever; driving me back and forth to work, fawning over me and making me pastries, chatting amiably about various subjects over tea and meals. He even talks to Raphael, though it’s only over the phone and I would suspect when they’re at work.

But I can’t help thinking that the longer I stay around the more likely it is that I’ll break up their friendship. That would hurt Yami and I really don’t want to hurt him.

“You’ve been very quiet lately,” Yami prods over a light dinner in his hotel suite a few days later.

“I’m trying to figure out how not to break up your friendship with Raphael,” I answer truthfully.

“What?” Yami stammers. “Break up our friendship? What are you talking about?”

“The only time you fight is when it’s about me,” I frown.

“Oh, that!” Incredibly, he laughs. “Raphael thinks he’s my guardian angel; has since we were in high school together. He worries about me because he thinks that I’m too trusting.”

“Aren’t you?” I press.

“Not as much as you might think,” he smiles.

“But you took me in and you knew nothing about me,” I point out.

He laughs again.

“I knew that you weren’t dangerous that first night in my hotel room, Seto.”

“I’m sure you didn’t think Otogi was dangerous either,” I snap, hurt by Yami’s laughing at my concerns and jealous that Otogi was once as close to Yami as I wish I could be.

I regret my words as soon as I say them. Yami’s smile fades, replaced by a look of detachment.

“You know nothing about that matter, Seto,” he states coolly.

“I know that Raphael keeps comparing me to him,” I retort.

With a sigh, he puts down his fork and gets up from the table.

“It’s enough to argue with Raphael about this all the time,” he frowns. “I won’t do it with you too.”

As he heads off to his room, I know that I’ve really hurt his feelings; just the thing I was trying to avoid. No longer hungry, I push my plate away.

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I awake in a panic, sure that I’m back on the street again and fighting off someone trying to steal my clothes. Yami’s voice assures me that I’m alright, his hands on my arms calming me.

“Seto, you know I’d never send you back there, no matter what,” he whispers sincerely, the light from the bedside lamp capturing the swirling emotions in his eyes. I must have been yelling out loud for him to know what I was dreaming.

“I...I...” I’m still too shaken to verbally respond, so I reply in a way I know he’ll understand; I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him against me.

I feel him start at the contact before sliding his arms around my back.

“Yami...” I whisper clinging to him.

He sits down on the bed beside me and I move to the more comfortable position of having my arms around his back and my head in the crook of his neck.

“It’s alright, Seto,” he assures again, lightly stroking my hair.

I fall asleep nuzzling his neck.

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Things between Yami and I have been strangely awkward since that night at the hotel last week. He still drives me to and from work and we still eat together most of the time, but he’s...quiet. And he seems to go out of his way not to touch me.

When I woke up later that morning, Yami was still there with me, so I thought...

But maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was just being a good friend.

“Is it really okay for me to be here, Yami?” I ask as we put away the last of our washed dinner dishes.

“Of course it is! Why would you ask that?” he frowns at me. I find that I can’t hold his gaze while we talk about this and look away.

“Because you’re avoiding me,” I impart. “Since that night at the hotel...”

I can’t say it. I still can’t voice my feelings.

Yami turns me to face him. I lean into his hand as it touches my face, locking my eyes with his.

“Seto,” he whispers lightly, tilting his face toward mine.

At the first brush of his lips, a warmth and electricity surge through me. It’s a feeling much more intense than what I’d felt after he held me last week. His tongue slips into my mouth and I moan at the contact, responding eagerly.

Abruptly, Yami pulls way, a mixture of shock and shame in his eyes.

“Yami?” I call to him as he disappears up the stairs.

I’m unable to coax him from his room or get him to answer my entreaties for the rest of the evening. When I awake the next morning, I find a note on my door that he’s gone in for his shift. It used to be a common occurrence that he leave a note for me when he left for work, so the act itself isn’t unusual. But I’ve known his schedule for quite a while now, and for the last month, I’ve been riding in with him. I know that he isn’t due back at work yet; he’s running from me.

Two days pass and he doesn’t come home.

And then two more.

I don’t want to lose my job, so after missing that first day after Yami doesn’t come home, I barter with a neighbor for rides into the city where I can catch a bus for work in exchange for maintaining his lawn.

Yami calls to check that I’m alright and even has Raphael cook and store several days worth of food for me, which Yami must have arranged, but he still doesn’t come home. By the beginning of the second week, it’s become unbearable not to have him here with me. I’ve gotten so used to hearing him shower next to my bedroom wall and his laughter when he’s joking with me, and his voice calling me down to sample some new confectionary concoction.

And the taste of his lips...

After that fleeting moment, the memory of reciprocating his desire lingers, taunting me.

Last night, I awoke to find myself panting heavily from a half remembered dream. Unquenched desire and my swiftly moving hand eventually left sticky evidence of its nature.

I miss him. And I want him. But will he accept me as more than the homeless kid he befriended?

There’s only one way to find out.

I pack a few clothes into my backpack before my usual ride into the city for work with a plan to make my way to his hotel later. By the time I arrive in his suite, it’s near the end of his shift, so I use the spare card key to get in, throw my backpack into the second bedroom where I usually stay and take a seat in the recliner in the corner of his bedroom.

When he finally arrives, he must be very tired because he doesn’t notice me at all and heads straight into the bathroom. A few minutes later, I hear the shower running. Deciding to ensure that he sees me this time, I leave the recliner and settle onto the edge of his bed facing the bathroom.

He comes out still slightly damp with a towel loosely draped around his hips, vigorously drying his hair with another one. He takes a startled, wide-eyed step back once he sees me.

“S-Seto,” he stutters, dropping the towel in his hands, “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” I reply, standing slowly.

“Seto...”

I step to him and place my hand softly on his neck. Lightly I brush my lips across his.

“I missed you,” I repeat to his stunned face.

When I lean down to kiss him again, he deepens it, sliding his arms around my neck as his tongue dominates mine. I lose myself in the sensation as I slide one hand down Yami’s torso. One of his hands rubs across my nipple as he slides it down my chest, eliciting a needy moan from me.

“Like that do you?” He inquires with a teasing grin, briefly breaking our kiss.

“Yes!” I whisper longingly.

His eyes lock with mine before we claim each other’s lips again and I melt into his arms. My breath catches for a moment when one of his slowly roaming hands teases inside the back of my pants. He suddenly tenses up, breaking our kiss.

This time when he pulls back and his eyes capture mine again, they’re reflecting that same shock and horror from a week ago and he steps away from me completely.

“Yami...” I call to him as he moves toward his closet, presumably to get dressed.

“I can’t do this, Seto,” he confesses with his back to me. “I can’t do this because you’ll only think of it as paying your debt to me. And I don’t want that.”

“No, I...”

“Just go home, Seto. We’ll figure this out later. I have to get to work.” He starts pulling out clothes from his closet and dresser.

“Yami...”

“Go home, Seto!” He yells, whirling to face me, poorly masked guilt and shame fighting for dominance across his features.

“You don’t have to work, Yami,” I state evenly. “And I don’t have a home.”

“You’re not my property, Seto! I help you because I’m your friend! You don’t owe me anything. Go home, now. We’ll talk later,” he sighs.

“We won’t,” I sneer. “You’ll just hide out here, calling to check on me and sending Raphael out to feed me. He hates me, you know.”

“Raphael doesn’t actually hate you,” he replies, completely ignoring my assertion about his hiding out. “He just doesn’t understand why I – “

His eyes widen in realization and he turns away, hastily gathering his clothes and almost running back into the bathroom.

“Why you what, Yami?” I call after him. “Why you what?”

He doesn’t respond so I start banging on the bathroom door.

“Why you what, Yami? Answer me!”

“Go home, Seto!” He yells back through the door.

I bang and call a few minutes more, hoping he’ll come out and talk to me. I need him to talk to me about what I’m feeling. I need him to help me understand what to do now that I’ve actually found someone I want.

“Yami...” I call again quietly, leaning my head against the bathroom door.

He can’t expect me to go back to that unbearably empty house and wait however long until he comes home. He can’t expect me to act like everything is the same as before that kiss. He can’t expect me to ignore my desire for him and go on like it doesn’t matter!

I hear the outer door of the suite open and compose myself, stepping closer to the sound.

“Hey, Yami! Are you dressed yet? The show starts in an hour and we still have to get something to eat,” Raphael shouts.

“You,” he grumbles when he sees me standing in the bedroom. “What the hell are you doing here?”

...I understand, now. He and Raphael...

Yami exits the bathroom, looking a bit flustered, dressed in a pair of black casual slacks and a white, button-down shirt.

“Sorry, Raph, Seto and I were talking and I lost track of the time.” He attempts a smile, but falls far short.

“Talking...” I murmur.

“Whatever, Yami. Come on. We’re going be late as it is,” Raphael replies gruffly, storming out of the room.

“We’ll talk later, Seto,” he tosses casually, not sparing a glance in my direction as he follows Raphael.

I slump onto the bed, at a complete loss for the first time since I lost Mokuba at the orphanage.

Mokuba...

Maybe I should take the Ishtars up on their earlier offer to let me live with them. I’m sure it would make Mokuba happy. I could probably find a job and help pay my way...

It would definitely be better than that empty house.

And maybe I should get away from Yami...

I will myself up from the bed and into the extra room, deciding to shower and eat before I go to sleep. I’ll call the Ishtars before I go to work tomorrow. Once I know when I’ll be leaving, I’ll tell Yami and start packing my things.

Yes. That’s what I’ll do...

Ignoring the ache in my chest and the sensation of wanting to cry, I shed my clothes and climb into the shower.