(Preliminary notes: Kaiba's always been difficult for me to write; I usually end up making him more like an actual teenager, whoops. And yes, this is an incest/tabloidshipping fic of sorts. Not your kind of thing? Hit the back button.)
Don't Touch Me
Staring at the ceiling with cerulean eyes, Seto shifted on his bed. On his back, on his side, on his stomach… Finally, he grumbled and sat up.
With each lengthy ordeal, the Kaiba brothers had found it increasingly difficult to sleep. Particularly after the entire scenario with Noah.
Seto found himself listening for Mokuba's footsteps, half-expecting his bedroom door to swing open any moment. No. Wishing, not half-expecting. But really, Mokuba was too old to be sharing a bed with his brother.
Too old.
He remembered the look on Mokuba's face when he had told him that. Sadness, acceptance, and knowing all mixed together.
Mokuba.
Why him, of all people? Seto could accept the fact that he was gay. Barely. But his brother?
If he thought about it long enough, it made a little sense. All those years of abuse, with only Mokuba to support him. He had never had the chance to get close, to truly open up to anybody else. It was as though…he had built a wall around the two of them. Yes, a wall.
Seto flopped back down with a sigh.
It wasn't natural, chanted his brain. Not natural. Filthy. Horrible. But wonderfully so.
Shit.
Did Mokuba know? No way to tell. All the signs were most likely there, though. Tensing up at the slightest bit of physical contact. Refusing to help wash Mokuba's hair or back. Even trying to get out of reading bedtime stories.
At the image of Mokuba's recent habit of sleeping in a simple knee-length Oxford shirt, Seto closed his eyes.
Really, the only problem was that they were related.
No, that isn't all, some hidden part of his mind whispered. Sure, he's too old to be sharing your bed. But he's too young to share it that way.
Shut up.
He wanted to have sex with Mokuba. There. He'd put it in a coherent sentence. Which was no help at all.
Unbutton Mokuba's shirt, kiss his neck, whisper "I love you, I love you, I love you," over and over and over and over….
Seto gasped.
No. Don't touch me, Mokuba. Don't. I don't want to do something I'll regret.
Like gently tug the shirt off your shoulders, run my fingers through your hair, hold you close to me, play with the zipper on your pants….
Stop touching me.
Biting down on the inside of his cheek, Seto tried to hold back a low moan.
His hands, which had been clenched in his hair, now fluttered down his body.
Dear god, no. Please.
As Seto whimpered, Mokuba slapped his brother's hands away from his pants, and leaned forwards to fumble with Seto's zipper instead.
"Nnn!"
Imagining the feel of Mokuba's mouth, Seto grunted despite his best efforts to be quiet. He began thrusting into his hands, ignoring the tears that were slowly leaking out of his eyes.
Mokuba paused, his hand on the door to Seto's bedroom.
He knew nii-sama had said not to share beds anymore, but maybe just this once would be okay. Right?
He began to turn the doorknob, but stopped again. Was that…crying he heard?
Nii-sama was crying?
At this, he frowned and opened the door quickly, immediately wishing he hadn't done so.
"Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit!" Mokuba hissed, hoping his intrusion hadn't been noticed. He started to close the door, but froze when he heard his name.
"M-Moku…ba…. Gods…."
What? No. This couldn't be happening. He hadn't caught his older brother fantasizing about him, not while, um…masturbating.
"…Mokuba?!"
Seto bolted upright, clutching his sheets to his chest.
"H-how long have you—"
"Long enough."
Mokuba blinked at nii-sama's wince and muffled sob. What had happened to the cold, composed leader of KaibaCorp? Stretching out his hands, he began to walk over to Seto.
"Nii-sama, is there something you'd like to talk abo—"
"Get away from me."
"But, nii—"
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"