Spicy Marmalade
Interlude I
"He really isn't that bad, y'know. My old man."
This was new. Since when did the two of them engage in conversation other than moans when they were in Kaiba's bed?
Kaiba turned to face the other boy, staring at Jounouchi's arm. The boy's father must have strong hands, to leave such a dark bruise. Each fingerprint was accented by bluish-purple, as though the man had dipped his fingers in murky paint and squeezed his son's arm in a death-grip.
It must ache terribly. Kaiba knew; he had noticed the marks right off the bat and during their lovemak...sex, had made sure that his hands had found the bruises, squeezing as hard as he could. Almost as though he was marking the shorter boy in his own sadistic way.
Kaiba waited for Jounouchi to continue, but his only reply was silence.
What did he mean by "not so bad"? His father was obviously a drunkard, and most likely abusive as well. How many times had this stupid moron tried to put off going home, postponing the inevitable confrontation? If he preferred to spend time with Kaiba over his own father that didn't exactly say much for the Jounouchi family patriarch.
Jounouchi stared at the ceiling, or what little he could make out of it in the dull lamplight. Why was this room so damn huge? It was too big for two, say nothing of one person. He couldn't help but wonder if Kaiba ever felt a bit lost in it. Not to mention all the paintings on the walls, the plush carpeting and heavy curtains... Sometimes Jounouchi got the feeling that they were fucking in a damn museum.
This isn't a room for a living person. The realization was soft, a fluttering in his mind before it vanished without a trace.
Why was he still lying here? They were finished for tonight.
***
What had Jounouchi done to earn the bruise? Mouthing off? Coming home late?
If I reached out, I could touch it.
The feeling of Jounouchi's skin, the tensing of muscles. It didn't make any sense that Kaiba could have sex with him and then not be able to do something as simple as moving his hand and feeling the blotted skin of Jounouchi's forearm. Eliciting painful gasps were easy, but a caress was out of the question?
"He really isn't..." Who was Jounouchi trying to convince?
Kaiba felt his lips curling into a sneer, his typical expression for anything he saw as weak and foolish. It was as much a facial fixture as his smirk.
I've gone through what he has, and I'm not sitting here making insipid excuses for that bastard. Pathetic.
"One's perception is their world." Why was that coming to mind?
He doesn't know anything else.
It doesn't matter! It hurt me more, knowing that a real father shouldn't act that way!
Of course, Jounouchi could look and see they way other families behaved, but that didn't really change anything. Sure, Jounouchi's father wasn't the best, but there had to be worse out there.
Right?
So, in return...
"He's not really that bad."
So why did Kaiba feel...just a twinge of pity? A fleeting emotion, a mere plucking of a heart string, before it was blotted out as usual.
Kaiba's laugh was hoarse.
"Do you really think I care?"
Then, a reply. "No..."