Title: Answering Questions With Questions

Author: LilPurplFlwr

Rating: PG-13 - R

Pairing: Seto X Yami

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh.

Summary: Seto Kaiba gets dragged into the supply closet at school. (For the April Fanfic Challenge)

A tall, rather intimidating, figure stalked slowly down the empty hall with an aggravated look that resided permanently in his blue eyes. Besides the familiar icy stare, he radiated waves of control and authority with every step of his otherwise emotionless stride. He was heading back to his fourth class that had started nearly half an hour ago, having spent the last class being chided by the principal. Or perhaps it was the other way around, considering Seto Kaiba had quite a few complaints about the high school itself. There was no real point of lecturing him about cutting a class or two; his grade point average was one of the highest in the entire school, yet the man continued to rebuke the senior about his lack of dedication to his studies.

After sitting through a pointless speech, much of which had promptly left his mind, the senior had impatiently waited until he noticed the principal had stopped to breathe. Seto Kaiba was able to debate like he was born to be infallible in life; to never make a wrong move or decision in his he knew it. He graciously left his principal quavering in the elevated chair (yes, he knew how that psychology trick worked; it was quite unfortunate that he was already taller than the man to begin with).

Passing a supply room, he did not bother to glance back at the dark, half-open closet. Unexpectedly, he felt a firm hand violently snag the collar of his school brunette had little choice but to be dragged back by the insistent force that successfully pulled him into the closet, nearly choking Seto in the process. The thought of wearing his school uniform unbuttoned in case of other situations like this one flashed in his mind. The small room's door was loudly shut, plunging the dark gray atmosphere into pitch blackness. Half-wondering how he should deal with the 'kidnapper', Seto felt himself being coaxed into turning around, probably to face his assailant.

Slender fingers wandered from the front of his clothes to his face, slowly mapping the senior out in the darkness. Seto quickly sidestepped the invisible figure, but immediately nearly fell over on what he figured as a large knee-high stack of packaged paper that lined the entire wall.

"Shit!"

Fluctuating between conflicting emotions of panic, excitement, and anger, he ran over the many reasons why he should not fear this stranger that had found his or her way over to him and was running their hands over his tense body. The person seemed rather methodical, whereupon Seto carelessly believed it was because they were as unfamiliar as he was in the closet.

Giving the person a hard push away from him, Seto felt grim satisfaction when he heard the person fall back with a surprised noise. He wasn't a person just to let himself get assaulted in the middle of school, or anywhere else as a fact. He heard a few steps in his direction when they stopped. Seto strained his blind eyes in the dark but found no hint of being approached. Still wary, the senior shifted towards where he presumed was the door. If he couldn't see in this environment, neither could the other.

He was, apparently, quite wrong with his guess. As suddenly as he had been pulled into this room, a swift movement brought his wrists together in front and had them lashed together with a cloth, knotted very firmly. A strong, annoyed push made Seto stumble back, making him loose his coordination. The senior ended up sitting rather ungracefully on the stack behind him, his back hitting the hall painfully. A soft grumble escaped his lips, before he decided he was plain enraged with this arrangement.

"What the fuck do you –"

Never have thought ahead enough to prevent this, he was effectively gagged; a bundle of cloth quickly finding his mouth and muffling his voice.

His adversary settled himself between Seto's legs, pressing awkwardly close to the trapped senior. Seto was starting to consider trying to massacre the person to find out who was crazy enough to immobilize him in a dark supply room at school. A surprisingly adamant hand kept Seto's restrained hands above his head, away from the possibility of attack. The silent person was rather slim, as he could tell, but strangely strong. There was little doubt in his mind that this person was male. Glaring into the dark, but managing to only see the faint outline of parted lips and slanted eyes, Seto made another muffled angry noise, hating the cloth against his tongue.

"Oh, poor Seto Kaiba…" a smooth voice murmured, with little sympathy in his tone, "Did you want-" a hand traced a corner of the cloth in Seto's mouth, "-to say something?"

A faint nod.

"Well, you'd have to be quiet though," the male stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world; Seto felt a small pull on his gag, "Can you… do that for me?"

The voice was not unknown, but still seemed foreign to his ears. It was lowered in volume, with a breathy, sultry quality to it, and the senior could not place his finger on any male he knew with such a pleasing voice. Seto felt as trapped as ever when soft lips brushed fleetingly against his ear, its warm melody whispered softly to him. Heated streams of electricity burned through his body from the mere touch, bringing a transient memory of recognition.

"Realize something?"

"Who'd like to show the transfer student around the school?"

Seto, from his peripheral view, noticed that hands hesitated to volunteer their services. He was not too surprised; the new student's appearance commanded not only attention, but respect as well. Leaning against his palm with boredom evident on his face, Seto let his observant eyes rake along the other male. Small, but with a wiry build, the student stood a few inches over five feet; extra inches added by his strange red-tinted spiky black hair. Several blonde bangs framed a sharp, defined face, some falling betwixt dark crimson colored eyes. A small smile, though not genuinely congenial, played on the newcomer's lips.

Several students volunteered, though they still eyed the exotic, slim boy with wary apprehension. He seemed as unapproachable as Seto Kaiba himself, as his slightly narrowed eyes hinted at calm deception.

The teacher pursed her lips in disappointment at the lack of eager people. Her attention shifted to Seto, who, seeing the attention drawn to him, turned his head and stared at the window with nothing but ennui. An annoyed expression graced the teacher's usual enthusiastic features and she called out sharply, "Kaiba-san! Perhaps you should pay attention to what's going around you! Why don't you show this poor student around; maybe gain a new companion to make up for your lack of them!"

Students tittered and whispers flew about the teacher insulting Seto Kaiba. Training his indifferent stare at the foolish woman, a dangerous warning sign for most people, Seto enunciated carefully, "No. I would not like to show the student around school."

A reassuring hand on the teacher's shoulder broke the glare they were sharing; the teacher giving the new student a confused stare.

"It's alright. I don't need assistance; thank you."

Seto restrained from rolling his eyes at the sound of girls sighing at the rich, somewhat foreign accent of the transfer student. Having ignored much of the introduction given before, the senior had probably missed the name and origin of the student.

Like Seto himself, the tone of voice gave no room for much argument. Catching Seto's interested stare, the student's small smile widened to a challenging smirk, before it changed to a polite one for the teacher. Hoisting his backpack more comfortably on his shoulders, he moved to the empty seat behind Seto and settled down wordlessly.

A minute later, there was a small shake on Seto's shoulder, the hand resting comfortably longer than the senior would have liked it. Tilting his head slightly to the side to show his acknowledgement, Seto had to restrain from flinching from the sudden lack of space between the new student and himself. Having leaned forward across his desk, the new student grinned at Seto's hidden discomfort.

"When is homeroom over?"

Seto raised an eyebrow. The individual conversations around the room and unaffected teacher indicated he could probably answer without getting singled out again. Glancing at the clock, he replied with a simple, "Six minutes."

The student stared hard at Seto's face and mused, "Well, aren't you the detailed one, Kaiba."

Irritated that his name was used with such carelessness, Seto snapped at him, "I didn't ask for your opinion, -"

"Yami."

Seto suspected the new student had leaned even closer to him, as he felt the warm breathing against his ear, making a strange feeling roll through his stomach. Hoping it was just nausea, Seto turned around fully to face an innocent façade.

"What was that?"Seto demanded, glaring at the other male, who managed to make Seto feel extremely vulnerable for some reason.

"That's my name," the student replied.

"I didn't ask for it."

"You didn't know it,"countered the boy, pointing out the obvious, which Seto did not feel like admitting to himself.

Not only was Yami extremely confident in his movements and speech, Seto noticed the other student had a subtle way of keeping your attention. Yami liked to move along the shadows of mystery and Seto hated anything that was not clearly depicted.

"Kaiba," Yami called for his attention again, smiling as if he loved how Seto's name rolled off his tongue, "What is your first name?"

Seto sighed, giving some reason, Yami just seemed to want to bother him for the next six minutes, whereupon he noted the many wishful glances in their direction. Everyone seemed to want to be somehow introduced to the new student. Unfortunately for Seto, no one had the balls to do so, leaving Seto stuck with a very strange, nosy foreigner.

"What is yours?" Seto replied, not the one to be on familiar terms with anyone.

"I just gave it to you."

This struck Seto as very odd, even if Yami was not originally from Japan. Seto knew he did not appear as a friendly person, so why would anyone have bothered to introduce themselves on such a familiar term to him?

"What is your last name?" Seto asked, wanting to cut off any hints of familiarity or intimacy.

"I want you to call me by my first."

A muffled exclamation was all Seto Kaiba could manage. The cloth was pulled out swiftly and dropped, a hand coming to meet Seto's mouth, pressing against his lips, insistent on silence. Soft lips nipped warmly at Seto's ear, the wet tongue flicking against it minutely, causing the senior to shudder.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Such language." The damp kisses pressed teasingly along his neck, the grip on his bound hands loosening.

As if trying to fend off the new sensations, Seto jerked his wrists; the strong, now alert grip had come back and had Seto's trapped hands pushed painfully against the wall. The ministrations stopped as well. Seto sighed to himself, his skin feeling like cold fire where the lips touched.

"Why don't you calm down?" A pointless, calm suggestion to the aggravated Seto Kaiba, that made him struggle spitefully.

A hand deftly pulled Seto's school jacket open and began to work on the shirt beneath. It was only after a few stunned seconds that Seto had realized this was accomplished when he was focusing on the attention on his neck.

"Why don't you stop?" Seto shot back, his voice wavering as he sensed the other's patience waning when he felt his shirt violently ripped open; half of his mind starting to panic from such alien intensity, never having experienced anything like it. "Stop it!" he commanded as harshly as he could, "God, I don't even know who you are!"

The other paused shortly before running his fingers over Seto's chest, brushing innocently over the senior's sensitive nipples as the slim digits roamed freely. Seto twitched, knowing his body would betray him sooner or later. Though he was hoping for the latter of the inevitable.

"You know me. You know my name…"

Unable to keep the name from rolling hopefully off his tongue, Seto murmured, as if keeping the precious name to himself, "Yami…"

A soft chuckle, before Seto's arms were suddenly released. Gasping in sheer pain, Seto grimaced as needles laced through his arms, aching and tired from being trapped in such a position. It was new knowledge that something this simple would cripple and keep his arms weak for the time to come.

"Wouldn't it be amusing, if I weren't Yami…?"

The name was played out, mocking Seto as if it was his one, true weakness. The cloth binding Seto was ripped away, jarring his sore arms. Seto's undone articles of clothing were removed, more joining them as they were dropped messily onto the floor. Bare skin pressed against Seto, arousing a strange desire within him. The male settled himself on Seto's lap, arms wrapped provocatively around Seto's neck, keeping him from pulling away.

"If I was someone, completely different from your Yami…"

The suggestion sliced maliciously through Seto, who barely registered the tantalizing shift of hips. His hands moved with a will of their own to rest upon slender hips, sliding along the legs that sprawled around his own.

"If you weren't… my Yami…?" Seto repeated slowly, entertaining the disturbing idea carefully in his head, somewhat still very attracted to the thought of the precocious transfer student being dubbed as his possession.

The rolling of hips distracted the thought; an urgent noise coming from the slim boy that was seated firmly on him. "Seto…" his name deliciously uttered with the needy voice.

"Don't call me that," Seto managed to snarl back, closing his eyes and concentrating solely on unsuccessfully regaining any control he had left.

Hands scrambled to remove the senior's pants, though the said boy was not complaining verbally anymore. His logic had left him the blurry haze of want and pleasure. His mind continued to remind him to regain some sense, how it seemed so wrong and strange, but everything flew out of his mind as their arousals rocked against each other.

"Why not?"

Steadying the boy on his lap, Seto stopped, squinting through the darkness, "Because I don't like being on a first-name basis with –"

A warm, heated palm came to rest on Seto's face, grazing slowly over the flushed skin. Seto was pulled down and their lips met lightly, matching together, eliciting a surprised echo from the senior. A venturing tongue licked against his lower , Seto opened his mouth and the kiss deepened, their tongues moving erotically against each other in a dance of dominance. Needing to breathe, Seto managed to pull himself away, their lips only a few inches as he breathed in soft pants.

"You're on first-name basis with me."

A opinion, wishful thinking; yet, it was stated plainly with a straightforward tone. Seto refrained from laughing coldly at the illusion that seemed to be created.

"You didn't tell me your last."

"I hope you never learn it."

Another fierce lip-lock sealed any retort from the senior.

Sensing a strange presence hovering quite close to him, Seto Kaiba turned from his locker and watched it close by itself. Following the mischievous hand to the face of its owner, he met with the rich red-wine colored orbs that sparkled with life, a kind of fire that he never seemed to have.

"Hi, Seto Kaiba."

It was amusing that the transfer student, Yami, that is, always addressed him with his full name. Although Seto did not mind; it implied formality, and that is what Seto liked it to be. He nodded his greeting to Yami, whose eyes flashed with vivid disappointment with such a careless had been nearly a week, and the only word to describe Yami now was 'popular'.

Although he acted friendly and sincere to his schoolmates, it seemed that only Seto was able to recall that calm, blunt responses in homeroom or the glint of hidden sin within his eyes. After this first week, Yami held almost an innocent appearance when he talked to upperclassmen like Seto. It almost was too fake for Seto to handle.

They stood there silently, Seto, not particularly one to converse with, was not a conversation opener either. Yami stood there silently, a particular familiar look residing in his face and body; a cool observation or judgment.

"What is it?" Seto finally relented.

"Are you gay?"

It was possibly the most bizarre question anyone has ever asked Seto. If it was a custom in Yami's homeland to know one's sexuality all the time, Seto resolved to never set foot in that country. A mixture of suspicion and annoyance flooded through the senior as he stared incredulously at the smaller boy, who stood expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Does it matter?"

Seto chose the words carefully, trying to control his voice to make sure it did not sound overly defensive. He could not see how this was relevant to anything at all. Seto had to convince himself that Yami probably asked this to everyone he has met already.

"Of course," Yami gave Seto an intense stare, as if he was undressing the senior mentally, setting a feline smile on Yami's face.

Giggles floated through the halls, girls passing the two with smirks. It was rare to see Seto Kaiba talking with anyone, at least normally without verbally insulting the person. Plus, their homeroom six-minute introduction on the first day skimmed through the school rather quickly. Seto now assumed Yami had a strange tendency to have to be one foot or closer to the person he associated with, teachers' being an exception, hopefully.

"Well, are you?" Seto felt incompetent, unable to answer a simple question, but far too uncomfortable with it to do so.

Yami, who seemed to have much patience after the length of time that passed, raised an eyebrow, "You tend to answer my questions with more questions, don't you?"

Seto, who was tempted to say 'What makes you think that?' but only realized that would make it another question. Wanting to prove the other student wrong, Seto grudgingly admitted, "Perhaps."

"Hey. Why don't you just answer me?"

Yami advanced even closer to Seto, a bit intimidating, though little fazed the senior. The new student's eyes had hardened to a stone-like ruby, though the pout was still lingering on his mouth to throw off any bystanders.

"I have no obligation to answer that," Seto answer coldly, hating Yami for having the audacity to confront him.

"Fine," Yami shrugged it off, with a graceful lift of his petite shoulders.

What impressed Seto the most was probably Yami's complete control of his actions and emotions. Yami seemed to be able to fluctuate easily between appearances, whether it was to confuse, trick, or frighten anyone.

"Well… Bye," Seto hesitated, the words coming out more awkwardly than it sounded in his head.

Talking with someone else for this long that did not include business or tirades was also a fairly new experience for Seto, as was saying goodbye. It seemed wrong to leave without a word, but expected for Seto Kaiba. He turned to leave, glaring at a sophomore that look taken aback at his last word.

Yami's hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. Seto turned around again, a quizzical look in his eyes, but a slightly irritated frown on his face.

"Let's go out this Sunday. Together."

He had left without another word that day… but…

"Hey…"

Seto gently raised Yami's face, watching, through the accustomed dark, the eyes he worshipped so much open slowly, still slightly glazed with tired were still connected; Seto shifted, debating whether it was better to separate and move to a more comfortable place or stay in this pleasurable made no difference, and Seto really was too tired to do more than hold his new lover.

Yami exhaled heavily to indicate his exhaustion and leaned forward to catch Seto's mouth in a chaste kiss.

"Okay," Seto murmured into Yami's ear after they separated. Sensing Yami's bewilderment, Seto chuckled to himself, "We have a Sunday date."

-fin-