Title: The Upper Hand

Summary: Seto was always a good fighter, but one night at the orphanage he loses a lot more than just a fistfight.

A/N: Yes, another noncon to add to my collection of noncons.

Well, to celebrate getting a new job, I decided to share a small, awkward blurb with you all. I hope you like it.

In this story Seto is between 10 and 11…just felt that that might be important.

They were always touching his things—his stupid roommates. Aside from Mokuba (who was only allowed to stay in the room because it kept both him and Seto quiet) there were three other boys. Two shared a bunk bed on one side of the room, and one slept on the bunk above Seto and Mokuba's shared bed. Only zero out of the three boys got along with Seto…all three hated his guts for the same reason that all adolescent boys hate other adolescent boys: Because they could.

They'd been that way since the first day that Seto had arrived and had been assigned to stay in the room with them. The first thing they did was pick on Mokuba…needless the say the first day Seto arrived was the first time he got into trouble. Apparently it wasn't a good thing to deliver a black eye to a snotty brat with no manners.

Who ever would have guessed?

Pretending to be ignorant of such a moral rule was the only way that Seto managed to escape being punished beyond a scolding. He was hardly able to contain his laugh when they confessed to him that it wasn't his fault that he didn't understand such rules after being in a neglectful family.

He hadn't been in a neglectful family, just a greedy one. He'd had food, he'd had clothes, he'd had some games…

They were always touching his things…those stupid roommates of his.

It was free time. They always had free time twice a day, once after lunch and then once again just after dinner before "lights out". (Which was just code for shut your lights off and then back on a half hour later and do more things until you heard the night guard, then shut it off and pretend to sleep, wait for him to leave, and then do it all over again.) While Mokuba, finally starting to branch out, played some game with two boys and an exceedingly small girl of his own age, Seto had decided to get one of his own games to play.

He'd felt like challenging himself in a game of Go, but upon seeing that his games, which were set in his lower dresser drawer, had moved to the second to last dresser drawer, he lost interest in the idea.

Nothing was stolen, he could be thankful for that, but the fact that they moved it pissed him off. Pissed him the hell off.

Touching his things…they were always touching his things…

Seto glared at his dresser after having put his belongings back where they belonged, hands on hips, and fumed silently. There wasn't much he could do. There was always the possibility that it had been one of the adults looking for anything that was not permitted. It was a fact that, every now and then, the kids somehow smuggled in knives, cigarettes, and other "harmful" things. Because of that they felt that they had the right to just go through everyone's things.

It made Seto mad.

Roommates…Adults…It didn't matter. Someone was always touching his things…always!

"S-Seto!" Seto flinched. That sounded like Mokuba…vaguely…There was something not right about it. But he was helpless—he had to look incase it was Mokuba.

As he turned around, half expecting to see Mokuba in the doorway, he received a strong blow to the bridge of his nose with the elbow of the oldest of his roommates—Taiichi. His worst rival.

The unexpected blow sent him backwards, causing his head to bump into the dresser, but not hard enough to do anything more than cause it to shake and cause Seto's vision to blur momentarily. But a moment was all Taiichi needed.

Before Seto could throw his instinctively clenched fist towards the already smooshed-looking face of Taiichi, the thirteen-year-old let his fist collide with the other side of Seto's head, causing him to smash back into the dresser once more.

Not allowing the pain to blind him, Seto bared his teeth and scowled up at the face of his assailant for a moment before lunging forward. He managed to distract Taiichi with a false punch to the face in order to burry his left hand—his weaker hand—in the boy's gut.

While Taiichi was distracted from the impact, Seto dodged around him—not running away! but getting himself out of the position that left him pressed against the wobbly dresser. He watched viciously as Taiichi raised himself from his slumped position—not attacking a man while he's down—and was unable to hear the sounds of footsteps behind him from the doorway.

Just as Taiichi acted to punch him and Seto braced himself to block it, a different blow connected heavily with the back of Seto's head that made a resounding crack before Seto—disconcerted—fell forwards onto the floor. He was not unconscious, but he was too delirious to think to fight. The only words in his head were asking if Mokuba had ever been near the room at all or if Taiichi had copied his voice somehow to lower his guard.

"Is he out?" Seto knew that voice…it was Taiichi's little eleven-year-old follower Makoto. Blinking away the delirium, Seto attempted to rise, scrunching his face into a glare.

"No!" Taiichi growled and, before Seto could fully react, sent a jarring kick to the side of Seto's head which knocked him to the floor once again with enough force that the world turned black and silent.

When he came to, the first thing he noticed was that it was hot and that his teeth were gritted. Then he felt a constricting pressure on each of his forearms. His face hurt and he could taste blood in his mouth that he believed to be coming from his nose. Then, in less than thirty seconds after becoming aware of himself, Seto became aware of the person looming over him and pinning him.

He opened his eyes to see Taichii and Makoto. Taiichi pinning him, and Makoto standing guard at the closed door. The curtains had been drawn, even though their room was on the second floor, as if there would be someone in the trees peeking in at them. He discovered himself on his own bed, but Taiichi was over him, pinning him and smirking down at him while panting like an over-heated dog.

Seto snarled, preparing to fight, but when Taiichi laughed in response, Seto felt that something was wrong. That's when he realized, fully awakening, that Taiichi was not just pinning him, he was over him, and he, Seto, could feel only the flesh of his legs…no trousers, no underwear. Becoming aware of his vulnerability, Seto's rage failed and turned into burning humiliation. He tried to keep fighting trough it, but Taiichi overpowered him easily after robbing him of his pride and security.

"Let me up," Seto barked, squirming to free his hands. His voice was firm, but Taiichi knew that Seto was the weaker one now that he'd lost the upper hand. The boy had strong punches and he was exceedingly fast, he had to give the kid that, but he lacked muscle. When Seto's fists were restrained, there was nothing he could do. "What do you want from me?" Seto growled, moving frantically until freezing when he felt Taiichi drop his weight down onto Seto's exposed groin.

What Seto had thought to be an act done simply to humiliate him—stripping him of his clothes while he was unconscious—seemed to be turning into something more malevolent. Taiichi wasn't moving to punch him or beat him, he was just looming, pressing down, and smirking. Makoto didn't make any moves either aside from staring down at the floor almost ashamedly.

Seto grunted in frustration and attempted to move his knees beneath Taiichi's torso in order to force him off, but there was no possible way. He was trapped and, unless Taiichi let go, there was no way for him to get loose. Seto emitted a small, scared whimper despite himself and listened as Taiichi huffed.

Then, abruptly, Seto felt Taiichi move himself so that his groin was no longer pressing into Seto's. At first, he thought he was about to be set free, and then he knew otherwise. There was the intense burning between his thighs which caused him to not only close his eyes tightly, but silence the cry in his throat by biting into his lip. The burning traveled from the outside of his body inward where it transformed into stinging which rivaled that of a wasp.

Seto released his lip in an attempt to begin speaking, but his words cut off into a stifled cry. He hated the weakness in his action, but the pain did not recede when Taiichi acted as if removing himself—it got worse. And then he forced himself back in deeper, plunging the debilitating ache further inside, making more wounds and more cuts. It stayed that way, Taiichi pulling himself out and then pushing back in harder, making more flesh split inside of Seto's body, making Seto emit whimpers no matter how hard he tried not to.

He couldn't fight the cries, but he could prevent the tears. They rimmed his eyes and threatened to spill each time his body was rocked forwards, but he wouldn't allow them to. He kept his eye closed so his pain could not be seen through his eyes and to lock in the tears. It didn't matter how tightly closed he kept his mouth, the whines could still be heard. The whines that grew in their agony and mixed with the creaks of the bed and the moans and puffs of air from Taiichi to make a gut-churning sound that made Seto nauseous.

The pain and reek of his own sweat did not help alleviate the burn in the back of his throat that he attempted to swallow.

"Taiichi!" Makoto whispered nervously. The older only moaned loudly instead of forming words. "What are you doing? I thought you said you were going to beat him up, Taiichi!" Taiichi growled, but didn't answer verbally. Instead, he began thrusting harder into the body that constricted around him until Seto screeched, proving that he was in pain. He could both feel and smell the blood that he'd caused to spill, and used the fluid to his advantage. It helped him move faster—sending the waves of pain up Seto's spine to his brain in rapid succession until, at last, he reached his climax.

At the release of the seed, Taiichi's moan was not loud enough to drown out the wail from Seto's throat as the burning and stinging tripled and seeped deeper within him. Seto didn't cry, but he continued mewling at different pitches.

"Sh-shut up!" Taiichi breathed, pulling himself all of the way out but keeping his hold on Seto's wrists. As the muscles closed around the hot and stinging liquid, Seto called out again, his eyes flinging open as every cut and tear was infested with the sharp and endless pain. The tears rimmed his eyes, but they didn't fall.

"T-Taiichi!" Makoto called. "There's someone coming!" True to his call, there was the frantic sound of heeled shoes in the hallway, signaling one of the female attendants, and, before Taiichi, frozen at the thought of being caught in such a position like a deer in headlights, could even release Seto's hands, the door was flung open, knocking Makoto to the side.

"You boys need to stop fi—fi…" The woman stared at them slack-jawed while the two boys on the bed stared back at her—Taiichi gaping in horror while Seto, glassy-eyed, whimpered softly. The attendant leaned back into the hallway and called for the headmaster urgently before turning her usually soft face vicious. "Get off of him!" She spat. "Now! Move!" Taiichi, fumbling, pulled himself away from Seto who, almost instantly, snapped from his dazed state to an enraged one. He lunged forward, still exposed but not concerned about it, still in pain but ignoring it, and slammed his elbow into the back of Taiichi's head. Seto wasn't fully able to support his own weight after that and tumbled down to the floor from the pain.

It was at that moment that the headmaster arrived and grabbed both Makoto and Taiichi by the forearms and led them away without a word, leaving the attendant to go to Seto who rested on his knees on the floor, covering himself with his hands as if ashamed, but glaring ferociously.

"Are you going to be okay?" The attendant asked as she kneeled beside him and ran her fingers through his hair gently. Her only response was an angry twitch that crossed Seto's lips as his eyes narrowed further. She grabbed the corner of her apron and used it to wipe away the drying blood beneath Seto's nose gently, finally breaking Seto's intense glare at the closed door.

The attendant looked around the floor, not quite sure what to say or do since the wounded child seemed more angry than hurt and in more need of restraint than comfort. Her eyes lit upon Seto's discarded clothing within arm's reach. She slid them towards him gently only to have him snatch them up as if she'd been attempting to take them from him.

"Don't touch my things," he hissed with enough venom dripping from his teeth that the attendant jolted backwards. "Get out." Muttering a few last words of comfort, the attendant stood and retreated from the room after promising to wait outside of the door so no one would come in. As she leaned against the closed door from the outside and listened as Seto cursed sadistically, the attendant dropped her eyes to the floor and thought about how fortunate the poor child was to not fully understand what had happened to him…within the room, however, Seto swore that that would be the last time he lost the upper hand.

Always touching his things. Always touching his things!

Seto glared down at his desk and the scatted sheets of paper that covered it. Those stupid assistants of his were always touching his things and moving his things…as if they were their things and not his. How was he supposed to find anything if what he put in the top drawer ended up in the bottom drawer? Employee files on bottom, company files on top. It worked better than way! Why would it be easier to stoop lower to look at smaller cards?

Idiots…

Always touching his things…

Seto turned to look out the window behind his desk and sighed heavily. At least he'd found what he'd needed. And it didn't have to be the assistants…it could have been someone else trying to help him organize, unaware of the fact that he liked things the way he had them.

But that didn't change the fact that people were always touching his things…were his things really that fascinating? He heard his office door open and angled his head to listen better without turning around.

"Seto?" Mokuba. He ducked his chin and cast his eyes backwards before making out the distinctive colours of his brother's outfit before turning around.

"What is it?" He asked, looking back at his desk and then beginning to straighten up the papers.

"Do you need any help?"

"No," Seto answered. "I'll be done in a few minutes. Just wait for me in the lobby." Mokuba hummed and then retreated from the room.

…always touching his things…everyone was always wanting to touch his things. File papers, "clean" the desk, discover what material was used to make his coat…always touching his things. What the hell was so fascinating about his things?

He didn't even want to know…

A/N: Could be better, but I like it as it is. Remember, Seto is only ten in this story so don't get defensive saying he would never make a sound! because this was before he learned to hide everything…and developed a pain tolerance. Besides, I do see him as the type of kid that, after getting beat up and loosing, goes after the attacker as he's trying to walk away even if it means getting beat up again. Well, Seto got in the last punch.

As for the flash-forward, I thought it would show how Seto was not exactly traumatized by what happened, but learned to be cautious before just spinning around to look at whoever shows up behind him.

I hope you found it enjoyable, and please review!