WARNING: ONE WORD OF GAY-BASHING. I just figured I’d put a warning up.

Home Sweet Home

Joey’s POV

I opened my eyes and yawned when the alarm went off. Beside me, my naked father slept quietly. Involuntarily, I shuddered. It happened again…no surprise there.

My chest was covered with release….was it his or mine? Who knows? Who cares? I just know I’m dirty as hell….inside and out.

I got out of bed and staggered to the shower. Ouch…my back. I reached beside the toilet and grabbed a half-empty bottle of Gin. That would numb the pain and give me the jolt in the morning I needed to forget my stinking, miserable life.

Hate myself.

I hate myself. I look into the bottle of liquid and I shed tears. Every day, I becoming more like my father…..and it hurts. Heaven forbid if I ever end up having any kids! I know I’ll be a no-good, sick, twisted bastard like my father! My kid will hate me, scorn me, talk-back to me, and I will have no other recourse but to beat the living shit out of him because that is all I know how to relate!

There’s no need to strip. I’m already covered in semen, booze, and sweat. Nothing new in this morning’s cocktail on my body.

Hell, yeah….hot water. I grab a clean washcloth. Laundry was always my job. Who wants to dry oneself with a dirty, moldy, towel? Not me. Not after last night.

Taking the washcloth in my hand, I lather the soap.

Must get clean…..

I scrub my skin until it is red and raw.

Must Clean…

Must Clean….

So dirty…

Filth…dirt…not coming off.

Why won’t it come off?

Gods…come off….

Please…

Tainted…used….hated…..humiliated….so dirty.

His disgusting fluids all over me! It bathes me in a pool of tainted love.

Is love supposed to be like this? OH gods, please tell me it isn’t supposed to be like this!

I hurt myself. When I came to my senses, my skin hurt worse from the scrubbing.

Gods, I hate him.

I turn off the water and dry myself off. Time to face another day.

I take another drink of Gin and left the bathroom.

My father waited outside and he backed me against the wall. “Last night….was magical, my boy.”

I HATE YOU!

“I….I….I enjoyed….it…..too, daddy.”

My father smiled and whispered with affection, “Who’s daddy’s little whore?”

That’s all I am. I’ve come to accept it. I’m daddy’s little whore. And I have been that since I was seven years old.

“I’m daddy’s little whore,” I whisper.

My father kissed me on the lips. “That’s my boy. Get ready for school and go make my breakfast.”

He went into the bathroom. You Bastard! I hate you, daddy! Fuck you! I’d never say that to him! He’s belt me across the face….like he did the last time I tried to fight him back.

I got dressed quickly and made him breakfast……like the obedient little whore that I am.

********************

My breakfast was simple….a piece of bread. That’s all I had time for. Dad always made me make his meals. When I wasn’t home for dinner, he just made it himself….a Bloody Mary, or a Gin & Tonic.

When I got to school, I saw Rich-Boy’s limo pull up.

Hmph….’Mr. Big Shot.’

I watched him step out of his limo. The wind made his hair flow in the breeze.

Today he wore his tight leather pants to school and a silk blue shirt. Around his neck he wore the same locket as his brother.

Today, the wind was a little harsher, making some of his silk blue shirt fly to the side.

Damn. Okay. Okay. So, I have a little puppy crush on moneybags. I have for about a year now. I smack myself in the head and Rich-Boy snickered.

“Don’t kill more brain cells, Joey. You may need that one that you have in your head.”

I growled. “Bite me, Kaiba!”

Seto rolled his eyes. This guy’s not intimidated by anything.

“I wouldn’t want to get rabies…..puppy.”

The arrogant bastard walked past me and into the school. He may be arrogant, but damn…..he has a great looking body on him!

That reminds me! I have to go home and work on that picture I’m drawing of Seto! One of these days, I’m going to slip it into Kaiba’s locker at school signed ‘A Secret Admirer.’ Yeah, it is corny, but hell…….

Maybe if I finish this picture, I can forget about him and get on with the rest of my life...without him.

He deserves someone rich. He doesn’t deserve a street-rat like me.

I wouldn’t mind it if Kaiba was the one throwing me a beating every night. I wouldn’t fight back. Fighting back isn’t an option with my dad, but Kaiba pounding me into the floor, bed, mattress, shower, couch, countertop, steps, wherever….wouldn’t be a big deal.

Hell….it may even be a bit of a turn on if he slapped me a round a bit.

Ryou approached me with a different limp than the day before. His arm had been bandaged and he looked like he hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

“Hey, Joey.”

I knew that limp too well. “Ryou? Are you okay?”

Ryou shivered. “Yes. Just fine. Are you coming to our movie night on Friday?”

FREE FOOD? HELL YEAH! “Yeah, Ryou! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Ryou smiled. He has such a cute little smile! “All right! See you later, Joey.”

Poor Ryou limped off. Bakura has some nerve beating on him! I’ll have to talk to him about that.

The bell rang! Shit! I have to get my books! Running to my locker, I stop dead in my tracks. Seto is leaning down to grab some books at the bottom of his locker.

Oh my god…….

Perfect view.

Seto must exercise!

I didn’t know he had such incredible…

“Take a picture, puppy..it will last longer,” Seto said, catching me at my sport.

“I wasn’t looking at you, Kaiba! I was looking at…..umm……the polished….umm….floors!”

Seto closed his locker. “Yeah, And I’m the Queen of England!”

Seto walked away, leaving me hot, bothered, flushed, and…..hot.

*******************

During English class, Rich-Boy sat next to me. The teacher always put us in alphabetical order and I always sat next to him.

Why do I need this stuff? I’m not going to England. Why do you have to learn English when you already speak it? That’s stupid.

Oh well. Anyway, I’m not studying English right now anyway. I’m studying Kaiba-ology.

Seto intently watched the teacher. What is going on through his head? He’s probably picturing the teacher naked or something. He looks pissed. But then again, it’s normal for him to look like that. My eyes studied him from a profile perspective. I can do a silhouette picture of Kaiba and hang it on my wall. My dad won’t know the difference.

His fingers were long and his eyes had that same seductive icy glare.

Even his short, brown hair was sexy! I HAVE to draw him from this perspective!

I purposefully knocked my pencil off my desk and made it look like an accident. I leaned down to grab my pencil and I looked at his slender hips.

Gods…..if only I could have him the way I paint him in my paintings! Everything about Kaiba was sexy.

I pretended to look at the teacher and sighed. Kaiba will never feel for me the same way I feel for him. I’ve come to accept that. It’s no big deal.

Across the room, Ryou wavered in his seat. He raised his hand.

“Mr. Yakamura…sensei….I…”

Ryou fainted and fell off of his chair! The teacher ran to Ryou and so did I.

Our teacher ran to his desk quickly for smelling salts and returned to Ryou. Ryou slowly regained consciousness.

“Ryou Bakura, are you okay?”

Ryou’s eyes looked unfocused. Bakura must be up to this!

“Umm…sensei, I don’t feel good.”

The teacher turned to me. “Joey, could you take him to the school nurse?”

Kaiba chuckled. “I wouldn’t trust Ryou with the puppy.”

I growled at Kaiba. “I can take care of Ryou, you jerk!”

“Make sure you don’t get fleas from him, Ryou,” Kaiba snickered, returning to his seat.

I helped Ryou to his feet. Kaiba….such an insensitive asshole. Like always.

Ryou walked unsteadily. “Thank you, Joey.”

“You should go home and relax, Ryou.”

Ryou shook his head. “No, my aunt isn’t home.”

“Steven’s not back from his dig yet?”

Ryou sighed. “No. My father isn’t home. I miss my daddy.”

I wish I could miss my father. But, I don’t. “He’ll come home for you, Ryou.”

“He’s supposed to be home for Christmas.”

I took Ryou to the school nurse and returned to class reflecting on Kaiba’s “sympathy” for poor Ryou.

Kaiba is such a jerk….but I love him. Why do I have the habit of loving people who are jerks?

********************************

I rushed home. I have to continue that painting! An entire day of staring at Kaiba’s various parts of his anatomy made me want to continue it.

My dad was on the couch drinking a Tequilla Sunrise when I came home. Old bastard is wasted.

I ran up to my room and shut the door. I pulled out my picture that I hid under my bed. If my father ever found this picture, I’d be dead meat.

I opened the piece of paper and looked at my artwork. Smiling at my own work, I admired it for its beauty.

The object of my affection, Seto Kaiba, was surrounded by a wreath of roses. I wanted to draw him laying on a bed of roses, but I’m not sure if I should. One leg was completely straight and one leg was bent. Seto’s arms were bent just above his head. The hardest decision I had to make was how to draw Seto’s manhood. I wanted this to be a realistic picture and I never saw it before. I can see it in my head what he looks like underneath those clothes. He’s big, strong….hot. Instead of drawing Seto’s sex, I just painted a sheer, white linen over his groin to obscure him.

This painting was started last year. It’s hard to find time to work on it. If my dad ever caught me with this picture, I would be literally killed.

Opening my paints, I start to detail Seto’s muscles. Gods, what I wouldn’t give to feel that flesh against me! Those hands would drift across my chest delicately.

Gets me horny just thinking about it!

Seto would probably dominate me like my dad, but that would be alright. It would be a good change to see a different hand slap me across the face. To feel him take his manhood and shove it into me would be a welcome change from my father’s.

Change is good. Change is healthy.

Seto would say the same things my father says during sex. ‘You like it rough’ and ‘Just be my little whore.’ I can hear him whispering those words to me now!

I need a change from the ordinary.

Shit. Shit. Double shit.

My daddy is coming…and he sounds pissed! Shit. He’s drunk.

Time to dance again, daddy?

My father threw open my door and found me with the painting on the ground.

Fuck. I’m screwed….or, will be.

My father gasped, holding his Tequilla Sunrise in his hand. He approached my painting and he growled. “What the fuck is this piece of shit, Joseph Wheeler??!”

I backed away. I have to get out of here! I turn to run and my father grabs my wrist!

I’m in for it!

My father dropped his drink and the glass shattered on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing drawing this piece of shit, Joe? Look what you made me do to my drink!”

My father backhanded me, sending me to the floor. Time to dance the same waltz again. So be it.

My father kicked me and I clutched onto my ribs. “Daddy, stop!”

My father grabbed my painting. “I didn’t know my son was a faggot!”

That word drove a knife through my heart. It hurt. I started to cry.

“Oh, now my son is going to cry like a little girl? What have I told you about crying?”

My father crashed his boot against my chest. Shit! That one hurt!

My father opened the door and kicked me into the hallway.

I fell against the banister and dad picked me up.

“Get out of my house, you god-damned whore!” My father screamed as he threw me down the stairs.

My back…My arm… My head…my side…I finally fell at the foot of the steps panting heavily and sore.

My father carried my paper down the stairs and stood in front of me.

“This is what I think of your art, Joey!”

RIIIIIIIIIIP!

My father tore my picture in half! NO! I’ve been working on that for a year!

My father started to waver as he stood in front of me. “Get out of my house, bitch!”

My father picked me up again and threw me bodily out of the house.

He slammed the door in my face.

I felt a drop of water on my head. Just my luck……rain.

God knows how long I laid on my front doorstep. The fall down the stairs didn’t help my side. Taking my time, I got to my feet and limped towards my real home…..my alley.

I walked to my alley in the rain and grabbed my belongings from my trashcan. Escaping from the pouring rain, I hid in the doorway to the abandoned building behind me. I laid down wrapped in myself in a blanket. I cuddled up to my bottle of Jack Daniels to sooth my aching muscles.

I sighed and smiled.

Home Sweet Home.