One would think that Kaiba had it all. He had money, looks, intelligence, money, a future, money, money, and even money! But it wasn't as if he needed much more than that. Acquire currency and the rest will follow. Kaiba couldn't buy happiness, but he could certainly have a fun time trying!

Or, at least, that was the idea. As the high schooler was quickly discovering, things didn't necessarily work that way. Or his way. All his life, Kaiba had thought he could but anything he wanted- sweets when he was a small child, cards from his favorite game when he was a preteen, clothes and electronics as a teenager… He had naturally assumed that everything would come so easily.

But apparently not. There was some ridiculous hippie idea of "can't buy my love" going around. As far as Kaiba was concerned it was infecting the school, poisoning it and leaving him with nothing but bitterness. Every single person he asked out turned him down once they realized what he was after. One girl even had the audacity to suggest he try a prostitute, since that's what he seemed to think her. Can you even imagine? A freshman! With such back sass! It made Kaiba's blood boil. He'd even punched the nearest locker, slamming an angry dent into the thin school-grade metal. His fist came away bleeding, and the entire hall of students were staring at him.

That might have been part of the issue, of course. Kaiba hallways did have quite the little temper. That is, when you used "little" in a sarcastic sort of way. It was more like a massive temper. Huge and explosive as a three year old spoiled brat screaming for the latest toy. Compensation? Perhaps. Perhaps genetics. Perhaps the frustration of not having his way just bothered him. Whatever the reason, it was keeping him the dateless social pariah of his high school.

Things seemed pretty bleak for Kaiba. Pretty bleak indeed.

† † †

One would think that there was much Yami was lacking. He didn't have money, a good home, a safety net of family, money, a future, money, money, or money. But it wasn't like he needed any of that. He was smart, he was good looking. He had his friends and he had his little brother, Yugi. He had a halfway decent job. He was doing alright! He didn't have it all, but he had what counted.

Or, at least, that was the idea. As the high schooler was quickly discovering, things in the real world didn't work that way. Money made the world go around. Being clever wasn't going to do him much good when he didn't have the entrance fee for tests or the application fee for good schools. His looks could have helped, but Yami was not that low. Not yet. He was still putting food on the table- eno0ugh for himself and his brother. As long as they were both alright, thing would work out sooner or later.

It would have been nice if his friends could have done something to help him. But they were all nearly as skin as Yami- it wasn't as if they had connections. In fact, Yami didn't know anybody rich enough to do so much as sport him a ten for lunch.

Well, actually, he did. But he wasn't about to sink quite that low… at least, he didn't think so. Not yet.

† † †

The posters all over the halls proclaimed it to be the "Dance of the Year!" The way people were talking about it, though, you'd think it was the dance of the century. Yami didn't understand the fuss. It was just some dorky little school dance. Just the Spring Formal- not even Homecoming. Not even Prom. What was the big deal?

"The big deal," his friend Joey informed him at their side-by-side lockers as they grabbed books first thing Monday morning, "Is that all the people who got together over break are gonna be there!"

Yami raised a brow.

"Together!" Joey added, sounding exasperated.

"I see," Yami nodded slowly, "Don't tell me that means you're going to be perving all over my baby brother all night?"

Joey look panicked. "No! No! Not at all! Heh… heh… what gave you that idea, good buddy?"

"I don't care, Joey," Yami insisted as he shut his locker and swirled the combination, "As long as you remember he's still underage. I'd rather not have a legal altercation involving my brother and my best friend."

A look of relief passed Joey's face. "Perish the thought, my man! But really now, who you gonna go with?"

"I'm not going," Yami said as if it were obvious.

"WHAT?" screamed Joey as if it were not obvious at all.

"You heard me, Joey. And I'd appreciate a few decibels less."

"B-bu-but-but- why not?" the blonde demanded, looking indignant.

Yami looked up at his taller friend. "Let's get real, Joey. Who would ever ask me?"

They passed along the corridor to their next class the bell rang, all too engrossed to take notice of somebody who had been eavesdropping on their little talk.

"Who indeed," muttered Kaiba, "Who indeed."

† † †

It was in an abandoned classroom at the end of the day that Yami received his first proposal. It came as pure shock to the wide-eyed young man when a kid he knew from school (knew of naturally, but never personally- certain types didn't mix, after all) cornered him to ask for his company at the upcoming formal.

"I'm sorry, um, Kaiba," Yami stammered with surprise, "But I'm not intending to go. With you or anyone else."

Kaiba didn't seem to consider this cause enough to leave the other boy alone. He leaned on a desk, folding his arms and giving Yami a calculating look. "You're poor, aren't you?" he said abruptly, putting Yami on the immediate defensive.

"…I'm not exactly living in a mansion, if that's what you're asking," he said, voice cooling considerably.

"Then what if we made a little arrangement?" Kaiba went on, "You need cash, and I need a date. I'm sure we could work something out."

Shocked into silence, Yami just stared. Kaiba took that as license to continue.

"You go to the formal with me and I will pay you five hundred dollars. If that goes well then you let yourself be seen with me. Go out with me in public, walk around school on my arm, sit with me at lunch. The whole nine yards. You do that and I'll pay you a thousand a month."

"Do I look like a whore to you, Kaiba?" Yami snapped. "You can forget it. And forget ever talking to me- let alone asking me out- ever again!"

And with a burning face and ashamed fury boiling in the acid of his stomach, he swept from the room. He wasn't royalty, but he had enough. He'd be fine. He didn't need to resort to that sort of thing. Never.

† † †

The assumption of tentative security in life changed on a single very bad day. Yami had woken up to find that not only were they out of milk for breakfast, they were out of everything. All they had left was a bought-in-bulk pallet of shrimp Raman. Enough for another two days, if they didn't eat anything else. After that… well, he'd just have to hope he got some tips at work.

However, the second bad occurrence of the day quickly shot down that hope. Not only did Yami receive literally no tips at his job, he lost his job altogether. He'd never made a particularly good waiter in the first place- his voice was a bit too deep and intimidating to rattle off specials. And he had the strangest tendency to loom over whoever he was speaking with, hovering and coming across as much larger than he actually was. It bothered the customers, and they complained to his manager. Three strikes and he was out. And in spite of an otherwise spotless record, that did it for him, and Yami found himself sitting on the curb with his final check crumpled in his fist, head hanging between his knees, staring a hole in the asphalt.

It took him a solid half hour to get over his strong desire to cry and scream and go back inside to kick his ex-boss's fat ass. But he managed to push the urge away and get to the bank.

The severance put a scant one hundred fifty dollars in his otherwise dry account. He wouldn't get far with that. Rent on their tiny one-bedroom duplex was three hundred a month already. That plus food… Yami was left wondering what on Earth he was going to do.

And he wasn't the only one thinking about the rent. So, apparently, was his landlady. She cornered him at his front door. He didn't even have time to get the key turned in the lock before he heard her tenor.

"So it's the last week of the month already!" the tall blonde chime in with false surprise, "You know what THAT means."

Yami flinched. He didn't even bother to turn around when he replied, instead keeping his focus firmly on the peeling paint of his front door. "Rent."

"Why that's right!" she trilled one moment. The next, he voice lost all its faux charm. "Rent. It's due. Right now."

"Now?" he questioned, feeling a lump in his throat.

"Yes, now," she scoffed, "I have to get my drink on- pony up!"

"I can't pay," Yami informed her, hands shaking on the doorknob. He was in trouble. No job, no place to live. She'd kick him out without even giving him a day's notice. It was in the contract.

"What's this?" the woman asked, eyes widening as she tilted her head slightly. Her curls bounced, fine strands clinging to her dark lipstick before she brushed them carelessly away, "Did you loose your paycheck, kid? Because you know our agreement on that front…"

"No!" he said all too quickly, turning around to face her, "I just switched to a new job. Better paying. I just haven't had my first payday yet. Give it a couple of days and you'll have your money. I swear."

She looked him over shrewdly. "Fine," she agreed at length, "But have it by this time next week or you won't have to worry about paying me ever again."

Yami didn't release the breath he was holding until she had turned and walked away. His eyes followed her until she had turned the corner and left his sight entirely.

His key clicked in the lock and he pushed open the door, letting the screen slam shut behind him. He was then attacked by a hyperactive puppy; or, at least, the equivalent of such.

Yugi, his little brother, was a middle school student. Excitable and endlessly optimistic, he leapt at his big brother the moment he was through the door.

"YAMI!" he squealed, hugging the older boy tightly, "Hey! Welcome home! Did you have a good day at school? Did you get more food? Are your friends coming over tonight?" Except the questions were all rapid-fire, so that they came out as more of a high-pitched bat cry.

Yami had to chuckle. "Hey, Yuges," he said, giving the boy a hug before setting him down. The kid was just so short- it worried him some times. He knew he wasn't getting the best diet. But good food cost money. Money they really did not have. "Have you finished your homework yet?"

"No… not yet," the boy admitted, shuffling his feet on the cheap grey carpeting.

"Well then you go do that and I'll make dinner," Yami said, setting his keys down on the hall table, starting the short walk into the kitchen, the next room over.

"Ye, sir!" Yugi agreed, going to the secondhand, threadbare sofa to pull his packet of work from his cheap thrift store backpack. Yugi gave Yami a strange little look as he set his work out on the kitchen table, the mismatched wooden chair creaking as he sat. "Hey, brother?" he asked.

Yami turned around from the hotplate he was plugging in, "Yah?"

"What's the matter?" Yugi questioned, drumming his chewed-upon pencil on the table, "You look weird. Are you feeling ok?"

Yami gave him a half-hearted smile. "Fine. Just fine."

"Please don't lie to me, brother," Yugi sighed, "I can always tell when something's wrong with you."

Yami couldn't look at the little dependent. He turned his focus to the faucet as he filled a pot with water for boiling. "It's nothing, kiddo. I just… I have a new boyfriend." The water ran on and on to fill the pot. He didn't even hear the ecstatic, misguided congratulations. Yami just hoped that his brother would never have to know that he was doing this for him.

† † †

And so it came to pass that Yami found himself walking into the school gym arm-in-arm with Kaiba. He was, needless to say, less than thrilled about this. It had cost him a hundred dollar bonus, but at least he wasn't wearing a dress as Kaiba had wanted. Things could always be worse, apparently.

Yami wasn't thrilled about how much his classmates were going to talk. As soon as they noticed him, after all. So far upon walking in, all he'd noticed were snatches of conversation amongst the students.

"So I grabbed his pants right out of his room!"

"Oh my God, no way!"

"I love your shoes!"

"Thanks! They're real leather."

"And when I saw the velvet painting of the two dragons intertwined, I just knew we were meant to be…"

"That is sooo romantic and stuff."

"Ugh, I hate that guy!"

"Hate is a strong word-"

"Fine! I really, really, really don't like him."

"Shut up, Tristan!"

All the mindless prattle of teenagers. But at least it masked the pair's quiet entrance. The cranked up subwoofers and flashing strobe lights didn't hurt, either.

"How long do we have to be here?" Yami asked stiffly. He felt out of place in the suit Kaiba had given him- perfectly tailored and oddly sexy, as if it had been made for him (which, he realized, it may very well have been)- and all he wanted was for this embarrassing evening to be over so he could go home.

Kaiba glanced down at the young man on his arm. He looked sharp as a knife, bow tie looking fine one him rather than dorky- more James Bond than Dr. Who. "At least two hours. The dance doesn't end until eleven, and it's only eight. Suck it up if you want to get paid."

Yami shut his mouth, but he wasn't excited about it.

"I need to straighten my tie," Kaiba broke the silence a few moments later, "Come along." He kept his grip tight on Yami's arm as he guided him through the crowd, out the door and into the hall. It was odd to see their school looking so empty, lockers in deserted rows, like flat lines of soldiers at attention.

Kaiba all but dragged him to the boy's room. "Hey- Kaiba! Let go! You're hurting me!" Yami protested as his date pushed the door open.

"You. Out," he snarled to the young man washing his hands. A look of panic, and perhaps elation at being addressed by the rich kid, crossed the teen's face.

"Now!" Kaiba barked, snapping the boy back to awareness. The kid skedaddled, leaving the couple alone.

Yami pulled away, dusting himself off with a shake. "Geeze, Kaiba, what's your pro-"

His words were swallowed. But not by him.

Yami was shocked to find Kaiba's mouth scorching on his, lips pressing and bruising. The moment the young man's senses were regained, he shoved his escort off of him.

"What the Hell?" he demanded furiously, blushing hot.

Kaiba frowned. "You're my date. Let's do date-things." He went back in for another taste, but Yami stopped him.

"I didn't sign up for this!" he argued, "You said no sex!"

"Who said we're having sex?" Kaiba countered, "You think very highly of yourself." All further arguments were lost to the young man's lips.

They kissed for what seemed like ages. Yami found the protest slowly draining away as hot hands and hot mouths met and twined and wandered. His perfect suit felt suddenly all too tight on him, constricting. His back was to the wall, but the chill tile did nothing to cool his flushed skin.

"K-Kaiba…" he sighed, melting under surprisingly skillful touch.

"Hm?" the taller young man questioned, smirking to himself.

"D-don't… stop…" Yami groaned.

† † †

It wasn't long before pants fell to the ground and were kicked aside. It wasn't long before hips were lifted and pivoted. It wasn't long before breaths hitched and moans were let fly. And it wasn't long before the two boys collapsed, slumping against the wall and each other.

Yami found himself shocked that he had enjoyed it. Kaiba found himself shocked at the blush of affection he felt for the blonde.

"Hey," Kaiba said quietly, pressing a light kiss to Yami's cheek.

"Yah?" Yami panted, chest heaving with their fatigue.

"Let's get our pants back on our asses," Kaiba chuckled, "Don't we have a dance to go to?"

"Something like that," agreed Yami, untwining himself from his date and redressing.

They emerged a few minutes later, slightly sweaty and slightly breathless, but otherwise just as before.

† † †

Nobody knew quite why Yami started dating Kaiba. Nobody had any idea that things had not started out in a blush of pure love. As far as everyone else was concerned, it was one of those freak occurrences in the world- like typhoons or children's programming.

There were plenty of "Oh my god- is he paying him or something?" jokes going around. Plenty of referring to Kaiba as a sugar daddy, and Yami as something much worse. But what they didn't need to realize is that the money didn't even matter any more.

Though it did make a pleasant perk.