As always, thank you for the favs, follows, and reviews! Sorry it took so long to update. I typed and retyped like 5 different versions of this chapter.

After getting dropped off at your home, you crawl into bed and sleep like a rock, forgetting all about Kaiba and the stupid drinking contest. You needed a break. Hell, after all the crap you've been through, you deserve it. You sleep in, hang out with your friends, and make it back to work that night fully charged. Work was slow. And so far so good, because you'd yet to see or hear from Kaiba, who was quickly becoming the biggest headache and pain to deal with.

Okay, scratch that. Your dad definitely held the number one spot, but Kaiba was cutting it close. The two of you really needed to just sit down and have a talk.

"Hey boss, would you let know me if the guy with the blue eyes comes back? I'm going to take a smoke break."

"Are you sure you're straight, Jounouchi?" the manager laughs as he ruffles your hair, "You seem awfully attached to that one."

"Of course I'm straight," you grumble, "I'm all about tits and nice hair."

Your boss smacks you on the back of the head, "Then quit keeping all the cuties to yourself! Send a few my way."

"Yeah, whatever you say old man."

He flips you the bird and wave him off, stuffing your hands into your pockets and exiting the little bar through the back. The air is cool and refreshing. You didn't mind having to work, but it got hard sometimes. You were always busy and you were always tired. You still had to keep up in school and you still wanted to have time for your friends. You wanted to help your old man out with the rent (cause let's face it, you'd be homeless if you didn't), but you also wanted to save your money. You needed some cash to catch the train to visit your sister every now and then, and you were also hoping to save enough money to move out by the time high school was over.

Squatting along the wall, you jam a hand into your pocket and produce a pack of cigarettes you's swiped from your old man. You're sure he knew it was you, but it wasn't like he was ever sober enough to care. And it wasn't like he had much room to complain when it was partially your money fueling his addiction and keeping the two of you afloat.

He hadn't always been the useless drunk that he was, though the memory was far and fading. He had his moments were he was able to sober up long enough to hold down a job, but it was you who kept his sorry ass stable. You pluck a cigarette out of your pack and stick it between your lips. With a flick of your thumb you strike your zippo and light your cigarette.

You close your eyes and take a long drag. It was a habit you picked up from your days of running with Hirtutani and the Rintama gang. You'd meant to quit but you never got around to it.

"Well aren't you the poster child for juvenile delinquency."

"Fuck!" you shout, nearly jumping out of your skin, "Kaiba?"

Mother of Ra, where the hell did he come from? Did he just materialize out of thin air, or did he hitch a ride on his broomstick? He's standing in front of you, arms crossed and foot tapping. He hadn't dyed his hair this time around, and he's sporting a pair of sunglasses, probably due to his massive hangover.

"Don't go sneaking around the place!" you shout, clutching a hand to your chest, "That kills people!"

"And so does that," Kaiba counters, eyeing your cigarettes with disdain, "Quite a filthy habit you have, although befitting of a proletariat like yourself."

You squint at him in confusion, "A what?"

"Never mind, idiot," he scoffs.

You flick off the ash from your cigarette and stare at the ground, "Don't you have work or something?"

"Not today. Even I am allotted days off."

"Oh really? I never would have guessed by the way you keep fucking stalking me."

He squares his shoulders, "A master has to keep his dog on a short leash."

"Don't start with that crap again!" you shout, blowing a cloud of smoke onto Kaiba's fancy suit pants, "I'm not a dog! And if I was a dog, I definitely wouldn't be your dog, asshole."

"You really should quit," Kaiba says, ignoring you completely.

"I really don't," you say in an even tone, despite your obvious annoyance, "It helps relieve stress."

"Does it?"

"Yes," you repeat, "It does."

"Let me try it."

It's more of a demand than a request. You look up to see Kaiba holding out his hand to you, fingers wiggling impatiently.

"What? Why?" you ask, in a disbelieving tone.

"Because it 'helps relieve stress'".

"Have you ever smoked before?"

"I fail to see the relevance."

"Whatever. Put it around your lips and pull up. Don't inhale too much or you'll probably choke," you explain, although you secretly hope he does choke. Self-righteous bastard.

"Just give it to me."

"Fine," you pass your cigarette to him, "Here ya go, your majesty."

He eyes it with a dull expression, "You don't have any questionable diseases, do you?"

"What does that mean?" you growl. You know damn well what he's trying to say but it still pisses you off, "I'm as healthy as a horse. Always have been."

Because you can't afford to be sick, that is. Being sick means going to the doctor, and going to the doctor means spending money. Money that you don't have. You only had enough money scraped together to get you one physical inspection a year. You couldn't afford any hiccups.

You watch as Kaiba brings your cigarette to his lips and takes a hit. His eyes water and he immediately begins coughing. You watch him with a shit eating grin. With an annoyed expression on his face he hands the cigarette back to you.

"Disgusting."

"Did you even inhale?" you ask.

His lips form a thin line, "No. It was disgusting."

"Then ya didn't really get the full experience."

"What a pity," he says. He shifts his hips uncomfortably, balancing his weight onto one foot, "I suppose I owe you for last night, Bonkotsu. Isono told me what you did for me. You even brought back my deck."

"Yeah, well I didn't need you accusing me of trying to steal your cards," you say in a nonchalant tone.

"I suppose I owe you know," he says, slipping hand into his pockets.

"Looks like it," you mutter, flicking the ash off your cigarette.

"I could pay you—"

"No," you growl, effectively cutting him off.

"Why not? It's obvious that you could use the money."

"I don't want your money."

"I don't like to leave my debts unpaid," Kaiba says firmly, "Name what you want and it's yours."

"Look Rich Boy," you sigh, "its fine. I don't want anything."

"And I don't like owing other people favors," Kaiba stresses.

You didn't want Kaiba's money. You didn't need it. Damn your pride, but you'd rather struggle than bow down and take a hand out, especially from Kaiba. A man was proud of what he had, even if it wasn't much. As long as you'd earned it, it was something you could take pride in.

You take a long drag. The temptation was strong. A great opportunity just waltzed its way in and landed in your lap. Kaiba was rich and he was offering you whatever you wanted. But did would you really feel comfortable with asking Kaiba to buy you new shoes or a new pair of jeans? Masculinity was a fragile thing. You didn't need to see his piteous glare or hear his mocking laughter. You were just fine.

"I don't want anything," you repeat, "Just forget about it."

He is unrelenting. He nudges you with his shoes. They were probably worth more than your entire week's paycheck, "Duel Monsters cards. A new cellphone. Answers to the test for next Friday. Name your price."

It seemed that Kaiba had his pride, too. He couldn't have been too thrilled about having to be taken care of by the likes of you. Maybe you could ask for something small. Something he couldn't laugh at you for.

"I don't know."

"Don't be difficult."

You bite your lip, "Well maybe there is one thing."

He cocks a brow at you, "Name it."

You scratch the back of your head, "Well I mean it's not really something you can buy."

"Spit it out."

"Be my friend."

"What?" he snarls. He recoils and stares at you like you'd suddenly grown a second head.

"Be my friend," you repeat slowly, as if Kaiba were stupid, "You lost the drinking game last night, which means you have to be nice to me. You might as well go all out and be my friend."

His disgust is clear.

"Why would I ever want to do that?"

You shrug, "You're already half way there. You hang with me out of your own free will and you talk to me. Plus I cleaned your barf, so you kinda owe me double."

"I don't need 'friends'," he spits, "Least of all you."

"Are you going back on what you said?" you challenge, "I always thought you were a man of your word."

"I am a man of my word."

"Great. Friends then?"

He eyes you with disdain.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"We'll need to establish boundaries."

"What?"

"Don't talk to me at school. Don't contact me at home or at work. Do not approach me in public. And most importantly, do not speak of this silly arrangement to anyone. Least of all your little friends."

"I know you're probably not an expert on the subject, but that's not how friendship works."

"That's exactly how it's going to work if you want to keep up with this moronic charade."

You take a long and ragged breath. What the fuck? Where did that prick get off thinking he could issue you a set of commands?

You feel your anger well up inside of you. Honestly, why do you even bother? Kaiba was a fucking twat waffle and nothing was going to make that change. You tell him what you want and he spits it back into your face. It wasn't like you weren't expecting it, but it still pisses you off. You really do want to be friends with Kaiba.

Or at the very least, you just wanted him to stop looking down on you. You wanted to be seen as an equal. You knew you didn't need his acceptance, you really didn't, but it hurt your pride to know that he thought so lowly of you. He acted as though you weren't worth the dirt off his boots, and you sure as hell let you know it. Kaiba never had anything kind to say about you. It was stupid and it was silly but it bothered you. You always had an inferiority complex when it came to Kaiba.

"If you are going to act like that, then being your friend isn't worth it."

"And how exactly am I acting?"

You toss your cigarette to the ground and crush it underneath your worn out sneakers, "You walk around the place like you're a fucking god and I'm some worthless scrub. I don't know why I even tried. You're a shitty person and you'd be a shitty friend. I've had enough shitty friends to last me a lifetime."

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad, Jounouchi?"

"Probably not. It's not like you have any damn feelings."

"I have feelings."

You cross your arms and laugh. It's thick and forced, "Oh yeah that's right. You're capable of feeling like king of the world when you're swimming in your pools of money, and you're capable of feeling like a fucking loser when Yugi wipes the floor with you in a duel! My mistake."

You must have struck a nerve because he doesn't hold back the next time he speaks, "At least I don't have to feel like a loser all the time. Perhaps I'll even shed a tear about it when I'm at home in my mansion, and you're at home in your dilapidated apartment in the slums, dog. You can say whatever you want about me, but it won't change the fact that you're worthless street trash. Struggle and fight as you may, but that's all you'll ever be."

That's it. You're done. You're done with Kaiba and you're done with his crap. You officially wipe your hands of him.

"Fuck you," you say in a harsh whisper, "If you don't want all of Domino city knowing you're a faggot I suggest you stay the hell away from me."

His eyes are cold enough to freeze hell over, "Are you threatening me?"

"It's not a threat," you say, setting your jaw, "It's a promise."

"You're making a big mistake."

This wasn't like any of the other times the two of you fought. This time you had a bargaining chip. You could knock Kaiba off his pedestal and back down to earth. You could completely ruin him, and he knew it.

"I'm not afraid of you, Kaiba."

He's quick. In the blink of an eye his hand cuts across the air and slaps your cheek and a sickly cracking sound echoing down the quiet back alley. You cup your cheek in shock. The sheer force of the blow catches you by surprise. Kaiba is stronger than he looks.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, save both of your heavy breathing. Kaiba was huffing like he'd just run a marathon, his face contorted into an angry scowl as he tried to steady his breathing. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Your cheek stung.

So Kaiba was capable of losing control too. You were slightly impressed. You'd never peg Kaiba to do his own dirty work. You were half expecting him to call his body guards to pull you deeper into the alley and beat you up. You didn't appreciate being slapped but it was shocking to see a spark of emotion through his cold exterior. The way he snapped had been so human. So real. You wanted to see more of it.

The look of sheer shock and fear in his eyes was enough to make you forget your anger. You'd seen that look of panic and betrayal in your own eyes many times. You knew you were wrong for saying that. And the little voice in the back of your head (that sounded suspiciously similar to Yugi) was telling you that you knew exactly what you needed to do.

Apologize.

"I'm sorry!" you blurt out, "I didn't mean it. I just wanted to piss you off, you know? You may have been acting like a dick but I shouldn't have said that. I mean, I'm sure you're still pissed but for what it's worth, I am sorry."

He glares at you, "Is that halfhearted apology supposed to change anything?"

"No," you say, slow and uncertain, "But I hope you'll accept, because I meant what I said before. I really would like for us to be friends."

He glares at you.

"You've got a nice arm. Had it been a punch instead of a slap, you might've knocked me out," you add.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere with me."

"Sorry," you say, biting your lip, "I just want you to know that I didn't mean what I said. I know you don't really trust me or whatever, but I would never try to black mail you. That's not the kind of guy I am."

"I know," Kaiba says, which catches you by surprise, "You wouldn't be smart enough to get away with it, and you aren't stupid enough to try it. We all say ugly things when we're angry. That's human nature, though you seem inclined to believe that I am not human."

"I also didn't meant that," you say, avoiding his eyes, "Are we good now?"

"Whatever."

"And about earlier? Do you think we can still try being friends?" you ask, wiping your hand on your shirt and holding it out.

His eyes narrow, "Only if you are willing to abide by my requests."

"That's fine. I get that you're new to this. We can consider this a work in progress."

Kaiba doesn't accept your handshake. Instead, he takes a business card out of his jacket and scribbles something on the back, and places it into your hand, "Here."

S.K. 598-7527

"What's this?" you ask, squinting down at the card.

"My phone number. My personal number to be exact."

Ah. He was giving you his phone number? Maybe he isn't that stuck up after all. You grin and tuck the card into your back pocket, "Can I text you?"

"If that's what you want. I assume this is how normal high school friendships work?" he scoffs, "Or am I mistaken?"

"No, no!" you laugh, "I was just making sure. It's just, I thought no contact was part of your rules?"

"I suppose my conditions were a bit too stringent, so I have decided to change my mind," he says, "After all, this friendship is 'a work in progress', yes?"

"Yeah," you affirm, nodding your head, "So do you wanna come in and grab a drink? On me this time, as an apology for being a jackass to you."

He looks at you and smirks, although this time it's more joking than mocking, "Why not?"