Butterflies

So raise your glass to sorrow,
And drink to all the pain.

Seto's POV

I try my best to walk upright and with a regular stride as I ascend the front steps of the manor, an impossible feat made harder by the fact that I've just spent the last twenty minutes sitting down in a limousine that, quite frankly, needs new shock absorbers in the worst way. Eventually, weathering the concerned glances of the chauffeur the entire way, I make it to the double mahogany doors, only to realize that I've left my keys in my trench coat. Sighing, I ring the doorbell, and within ten seconds, the portal swings open to reveal my little brother, looking up at me with questioning eyes. I so don't need this right now.

"Spill, Seto." he says as soon as I'm inside, and I lean back on the door for support, trying to look casual. Oh yeah, definitely forgot about the post-coital pain. "Where have you been?"

"None of your business." I reply, growling deep in my throat at the muted lance of pain that shoots up my spine as I take my first step onto the staircase. How the Hell am I ever going to get up the whole damn flight?

"I know you were at Joey's." he presses. "Were you two fighting again?"

"No, we weren't." I almost chuckle to myself at the sheer understatement of these words.

"Then what were you doing?" Damn it, the kid's pushy. Why can't he just drop it?

"I've told you, it's none of your damn business!" His eyes widen; this is the first time I've ever sworn at him. For a moment, he looks as though he might back off, but then that stubborn glare's back in his eyes, and he clears the stairs between us, blocking my path.

"You're not going anywhere until I get an answer, Seto!" We both narrow our eyes, our formidable wills clashing, and I clench my fist around the banister almost hard enough to break it. He wants an answer? Then that's what he'll get.

"Fine, you want to know?" I sneer. "I was fucking him! Or, more appropriately, he was fucking me." The look on his face is something I can't quite identify. Surprise, definitely... disbelief, perhaps... disgust, even? "Was that what you wanted to know, or would you rather I went into more graphic detail?"

He looks down, then back up at me, and now disgust, not surprise, is the predominant emotion. "You... you're gay?!" he shouts, and I cr at at the thought of the servants overhearing before I remember that they're all gone for the night. "You're gay and sleeping with Joey Wheeler?! How long has this been going on?"

"I don't have to account for my actions to you!" I meet his outburst with equal fury. How dare he question me, after all I've done for him. How dare he! "In case you have forgotten, Mokuba, I am your older brother. It is you that must explain yourself to me, not the other way around!"

He scoffs, and that sound cuts me to the core. "Brother?" he sneers, exactly as I did a few moments ago. "I'm not related to any faggot whores!"

My hand flashes out before I even notice what's going on, and his small body hits the stairs with a hollow thud. "You pitiful whelp!" I say, his words having stirred my rage to the boiling point. "Just who the fuck do you think you are?" He doesn't answer, simply looks at the red carpet that lines the staircase, and I pull him up to my eye level angrily. "Come on, Mokuba. You're old enough to dish out insults of that caliber, you can answer a simple question." He continues to ignore me, and I give him a rough shake. "Come on! You had quite a bit to say a few seconds ago."

His head comes up, and with the speed of a viper, he spits in my face, the thick liquid running down my right cheek slowly. I drop him to the ground once more, and he realizes the magnitude of what has just transpired. "Seto..." he begins, his eyes tearing and his cheek flaring red where I hit him.

"Get out of my sight." I growl, and when he doesn't move, I whirl around, my eyes mere furious slits. "Get the fuck out of my sight, now!!"

He nods, runs back down to the ground floor, and takes off toward the living room like a scared rabbit. Still shaking with rage, I brace myself on the banister and continue my painful climb.

I need a hot bath... and a drink.

***

The door to my room locks with a hollow click as I retrieve the pills and booze from the dresser, limping into the adjoining bathroom and running the water as hot as I can get it. Setting the items down on the rim of the spacious tub, I strip quickly, looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror. My hair is an absolute mess, my body covered in minute scratches and bruises, and the crafty, self-assured glint all but gone from my eyes. For once, though, seeing myself completely naked, I don't think of Gozaburo. I think of him, my golden angel, my savior. Why he would want something this tarnished, this broken, I have no idea, but a gift like this, you don't question.

I sink into the steaming pool, wincing as the water makes contact with my wounds. I've run it deeper than I usually do, so the water comes up to my chin, and I slide completely under the surface with ease, feeling the clear liquid cleanse my physical body. If only it could galvanize my soul thus, I'd be set for life.

Under the water, in the complete silence, thoughts come easily. I see images of Mokuba, of our past at the orphanage, games in the park, Christmas mornings and birthdays. I see Duelist Kingdom, Battle City, Yugi and his friends. I see the shadowy specter of Gozaburo, its former power and majesty stolen by my last act of ultimate defiance. Finally, I see him, Joey, his eyes glittering as he laughs at some joke or other, scratching his head with a pencil as he puzzles out a particularly difficult math problem, the passionately angry glares he used to give me every time I passed. I see his honey orbs filled with concern for his friends, for me. I see the loving, unsure way he stared into my eyes as we made love this afternoon, the sublime perfection of his body. The remembered taste of his lips, his touches, as fleeting as a phantom's, assault my senses, and with a gasp, my head breaks the surface of the water. The depth of my feelings for him overwhelms me, and I do the only thing I know how to in this situation; shake out a few pills and pour a glass of brandy.

As I pop the caplets into my mouth, I know that swallowing them would mean not only blotting out the world this time, but a sure death by drowning. I think of Mokuba, the hate and disgust twisting his innocent features. I see myself slapping him, see him tumbling to the stairs. I see Gozaburo, hear his insults, feel his cold, clammy hands against my skin, despite the heat of the water, but these last few memories are faded, just like the rest of him.

I raise the glass to my lips, sniffing the pungent liquor. He tried to help me, did his best. I'm just not strong enough to stick around here, not like this, not as I am right now. Forgive me, Joey. You'll be better off giving your love to someone who won't waste your time on a hopeless case.

Just as I'm about to tip the liquid into my mouth, though, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, and the image stops me in my tracks. I feel like he must, on the outside looking in on myself. I see a pitiful shadow of a man, desperate for relief, desperate for a change. I see someone who's given up, who's had enough of his uphill battle. But I see the good things too; the inner strength that's kept me going this long, my not-inconsiderable physical beauty, my heart out on my sleeve, bleeding for him from a host of wounds, and I remember seeing all this and more reflected and multiplied in his all-consuming gaze. If I do this, I'll never see him again. He may never recover. I can't. I can't!!

With a roar of anguish and resolve, I throw the glass into the mirror, shards of crystal and mirrored glass dripping brandy littering the tiled floor. Spitting the pills out with contempt, I lift myself from the bath that was almost my coffin, ignoring the pain, and dress as fast as I can, picking up my spare set of car keys from the dresser as I leave. The need to see him again, to hold him in my arms and to be held in his consumes me, and my foot is pressing down on the pedal even as I turn the ignition, making the expensive car rocket out of the garage and onto the streets of Domino with a squeal of burning rubber.

Any cop who dares try to give me a ticket, I growl as my hand clenches down painfully on the wheel and the speedometer pushes 110 miles per hour, is going to wish they had never heard of a speed limit.

Tie a silver ribbon round,
The pieces that remain.

Joey's POV

The clock's pushing fifty-three minutes when I hear the elevator bell go off for the fourth time since I've started my painful vigil. I know I shouldn't be getting my hopes up, but still, my heart beats just the slightest bit faster. A scant few seconds later, the door swings open to reveal my azure-eyed dragon, his hair matted down to his head and his clothes completely disheveled. His face, at first merely worn and tired, rearranges itself into an expression of unadulterated panic once his usually quick mind registers what’s going on.

“Joey...?” he says softly, and I nod around the barrel of the handgun still jammed into my mouth. He takes a few quick strides forward, but I flick the safety off, stopping him in his tracks.

He raises his hands in surrender, and I can tell he’s fighting to keep them steady. “Please put the gun down, Joey.” he whispers, and for a moment, I toy with the idea of simply pulling the trigger. After all, he left me alone after our first time, without even a note. How much can he possibly care about me?

Still, the sheer desperation in his eyes would be impossible to fake, and I remove the gun from my mouth, placing it against my temple instead. “You promised,” I growl.

Now confusion, as well, has been added to the torrent of emotions swirling around his features. “Promised... promised what?” he asks, shaking his head, sending drops of water flying across the living room. And he calls me a puppy...

“You promised to be there when I woke up. You weren’t.” Recognition flicks through his eyes for a second before they narrow in contemplation. “Do you know how it felt, Seto, not knowing where you were, if you were okay...” I pause for a moment, catching my breath. “If you still loved me?”

A single tear makes its way down my face, and his own eyes misting over, he kneels before me. “Joey... God, never, ever, doubt that I love you. Please, Joey...” he exhales, shuddering with the effort of keeping the tears at bay. “I owe you everything; all that I have, all that I am, my entire future, I owe it all to the love we share.” Twin trails of clear liquid slide down his face, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Please don’t do this, Joey.” he begs, a sound that is most definitely strange to my ears. “You’re all I’ve got left.” As he finishes, the tears overcome him, and he turns his face to the floor as a heart-wrenching sob pierces my anger and shatters it into a million pieces.

Before I know what's going on, I'm on the floor with him, the gun set down on the couch, forgotten. I wrap my arms around him, my love, my dragon, my Seto. My lips brush his, and he returns the kiss hungrily, pulling me to him and stroking my hair fervently. Our eyes meet as we break for air, and I detect an overwhelming relief in his sapphire depths.

"But, Joey... the note..." he manages to get out between breaths.

"What note?" I reply, just as breathlessly.

He gets up from the floor, taking me by the hand and leading me into the bedroom, where he begins to paw at the sheets frantically. "I left it right here..." he mutters, and the realization comes in the form of a breath of wind that stirs his still-moist locks. Growling in frustration at the entire misunderstanding, he pushes my nightstand to the side, leans down, and hands me a folded up sheet of paper. "This note," he says, and his voice is lower than a whisper.

Guilt tears at my heart as I unfold it and read the words, written in his perfect hand. I've doubted him, doubted his love, scared him half to death because I didn't trust the man I loved to love me back. Throwing the paper off to the side, I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my face into his creamy skin, kissing him apologetically. "I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry, Seto." A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it back defiantly. "I'll understand... if you don't want to see me again." I sniffle plaintively. "I wouldn't want to be with anyone who didn't trust me either..."

He holds me out at arm's length, stroking my face with the back of his fingertips. "There is nothing to forgive, my precious puppy," he sighs, leaning down to kiss me.

I turn away from his incoming lips. "No, Seto... it's not okay.." I whisper. "God, I actually doubted you!"

He silences me, a tapered finger coming to rest on my mouth, swollen from so much repeated friction. "I don't care." he pronounces firmly. "I love you, love you more than anything, and your guilt only serves to show me just how much you return that sentiment." He smiles sadly at me. "You saved me, from Gozaburo, from myself... just another reason why I want to keep you forever, my sweet Joey. One among many." He comes in again, kissing me lovingly with just the barest hint of his questing tongue, and this time, I don't turn away. Rather, I feel my guilt and anger melt into nothing, simply fading away, as I break our kiss and nuzzle his shoulder, licking at his neck playfully.

"If you're going to keep me forever, you'd better make a trip to the pet store. New puppies are pretty high maintenance..." I nip at his throat. "...and a real bitch to break in."

He laughs at the pun, and I can feel the vibration against my lips as he threads his hands through my thick blond locks.

"Oh, I don't know about that last part," he says, sweeping me off my feet and onto the bed in the blink of an eye. "In fact, I think I'll rather enjoy it."

"We'll see if you change your tune later, Master," I laugh as I pull him down with me.

Butterflies, Butterflies, cut the stomach out and hand it over.
Butterflies, Butterflies, my heart will be the bridge that you walk over.

Seto's POV

I don't hear the rusted mausoleum gate close behind me, nor do I hear the eerie wind whistling through the cracks in the mortar. Without a morbid thought in my mind, I stride confidently up to Gozaburo's casket, resting my hand on the oaken lid. He's hardly anything, dust and bones, and I'm still here, with a life that's better than I ever dared hope it could be.

"You always said you were stronger than me," I scoff. "I pity you, poor deluded soul. True strength isn't measured in dollars, or successful mergers, or how many people you can control. It comes from love, knowing that someone would do anything for you, and knowing that you would give your life in a second for their happiness. I should know." I chuckle. "That's what it took to defeat you, once and for all."

It was so simple, in the end. All I had to do was let the walls fall away, let someone in, and everything just fell into place. Only one piece of the puzzle was missing, the one I had tried to begin with. "I hope you can see me now, while you burn, you bastard. I hope you see me with him, watch me share your fortune with him, hear every sigh and scream that pierces the silence of your Ice Palace. I hope you can see me, and know just how happy I am, despite everything you tried to do to me. I hope it makes Hell that much more painful."

Having said my piece, I walk confidently to the gate, holding it open and letting the wind stir the dust in the mausoleum. I won't be coming back here; construction of my own grave site is already well underway, and I have no other business with the not-so-dearly departed. So, with a sarcastic bow, I turn on my heel and walk back down the hill to the car, where my lover waits patiently.

"Goodbye, Gozaburo," I call over my shoulder, letting the wind carry my voice back to the stone coffin. In the end, it was just that easy.