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Seto Kaiba was not the sort of sentimental fool that allowed the weather to affect his moods, nor was he poetic enough to project his own emotions onto the elements. Nevertheless, it was a cold, dreary day. Gray swallowed the sky, uniform and oppressive, and the precipitation misting down from the heavens was a slushy mix of sleet and rain. No, Seto wasn’t one to feel any certain way because of the weather, but even he couldn’t stop the inevitability of memory, and days such as this always brought him back to the childhood he never really had. In this case, his days in the orphanage.
The winter before he’d challenged Gozaburo and secured his and Mokuba’s future had been this exact gray, and this exact temperature, and even his breath against the limo window as he was driven through Domino City reminded him of the cold, damp rooms of the orphanage. Perhaps that was why he felt an uncharacteristic twinge of empathy when he caught sight of a familiar figure walking down the street.
Katsuya Jounouchi trudged down the sidewalk with his head bent and his fists crammed in the pockets of a faded hoodie that may or may not have been black at one point, navy was equally likely. Even with the bleached hair hidden beneath his hood and his back turned away, Seto somehow recognized him. Seto inferred that Jounouchi’s hands were in his pockets because he didn’t own gloves, and the faded hoodie with a smiley-face patch on the elbow- darned by Mazaki, if Seto had to guess- was also the best that Jounouchi owned. Seto sighed, already regretting what he was going to do as he touched the intercom at his side.
“Pull over,” Seto told the chauffeur through the speaker.
The limo slowed and stopped beside the miserable figure on the street. Seto rolled down the window, holding back a scowl as the cold air bit at his face.
“Get in.” Seto used the same tone with Jounouchi as he had with his chauffeur.
Jounouchi eyed Seto. His face was angry red from the cold and his teeth chattered, but he made no movement towards the vehicle. A low, half grunt of irritation escaped Seto’s throat as he opened the car door to further invite Jounouchi inside.
“You have three seconds, and then I’m driving away.”
A bitter tch escaped through Jounouchi’s clenched teeth. He jumped over the rain-flooded gutter and ended up sitting next to Seto. The CEO’s jaw tightened as he felt Jounouchi’s cold body slide against his own. They were in a limo with two long rows of leather seating facing each other. Why on earth had the mongrel pushed himself against Seto? He blamed Yugi. Their friendship cult was always behaving irrationally, seeking out proximity when there was no occasion for it. Jounouchi blew hot breath against his knuckles to warm his hands, but his gaze locked onto Seto’s as if he waited for Seto to reveal a trap card any moment.
“Why are you glaring at me? I’m giving you a ride.” Seto frowned.
“No offense, but the last time a Kaiba offered me and Yuge a limo ride, it was to hijack us to play a death game. If it wasn’t for Atem’s quick thinking, I’d be dead right now.”
Atem. That eternal ghost that refused to stop haunting them. Seto had half a mind to dig up that stupid Puzzle of Yugi’s and put it back together to prove if he was truly gone or not instead of accepting what everyone had said. Their rivalry felt unfinished, and Seto yearned for a challenge. He had played against Yugi in the last official tournament, lost, but Yugi was too cheerful, too friendly. The loss infuriated Seto, but not as much as it should have. There was a melancholy threaded into his rage. Win or lose, without the intensity that Atem was so good at creating in a duel, Seto felt unsatisfied.
“I’m sure I could think of some sort of life-or-death game if you’re feeling nostalgic.” Seto smirked.
“No thanks.” Jounouchi snorted. “Death-T was enough.”
Death-T was a dream. It felt as distant and surreal as the visions of Egypt he’d suffered. Everything that happened before the “penalty game” that had rendered Seto comatose was vague and far away to him. It was only when outside stimuli triggered a memory, such as the miserable cold and damp reminding him of the orphanage, did the past feel in any way tangible. An untamed, unbidden urge to cup Jounouchi’s cheeks jolted through Seto. The mutt’s face was still rosy from the cold, and Seto used to hold Mokuba’s cheeks like that, to warm them with his own body heat when Mokuba was cold. The notion was nonsense, nonsense, nonsense, but Seto couldn’t shake it.
“Where should I tell the chauffeur to drive?” Seto asked instead.
“Just going home,” Jounouchi muttered. “Anzu’s off in America, Honda’s working, and even Yugi’s been busy with the game shop this week. I’m bored as hell.”
“Duel me,” Seto issued the challenge before he could advise himself against it.
Is this where he was? So desperate for a fight that he was reduced to challenging Yugi’s sidekick since the pharaoh was gone? Seto loathed himself for suggesting a duel. He didn’t want to play, not against Jounouchi, at least.
“Thought I was a loser?” Jounouchi had stopped blowing on his hands, but he still rubbed them.
Seto could only imagine the way they tingled as the heat of the car thawed the frozen flesh. Again, he wanted to hold the cold skin, warm it. Jounouchi wasn’t an orphan, but something about him reminded Seto of himself. Seto despised being reminded of the poverty he had suffered as a child. It was one of the reasons for his disdain of the duelist beside him, but Seto had to admit- if only internally- that Jounouchi had become one of the better duelists of Domino City, of the world, and who else was he going to play against?
“You duel against Moutou more than any other duelist. Your strategy is crass compared to his, but the influence is apparent. Crushing you a few times might allow me to glean information about Yugi’s style that will give me an advantage in the next tournament.”
“And there it is.”
“What?”
“The selfish reason why you gave me a ride. I was wondering what was up when the limo stopped. Why the hell should I waste my time with you just so you can use me as card-game fodder?”
“I’ll include dinner.” A half-smirk graced Seto’s lips. “Poison omitted from all courses, of course.”
Jounouchi grimaced. “Are we going to eat with chopsticks like normal people, or are you going to serve me something weird like snails and then yell at me when I used the wrong fork?”
Seto considered the statement. He would have mocked Jounouchi for his lack of etiquette.
The same way Gozaburo had mocked Seto at the dinner table when Seto was a child.
Seto’s stomach soured. He spent his entire life being better than the bastard that had adopted him; however, there were always moments where he caught himself emulating the old man.
“I’ll have the chef prepare sushi,” Seto said, to defy the shadow of Gozaburo’s influence. He was better than his foster father. He was smarter, too. He could avoid the issue of table manners altogether by serving something Jounouchi would be familiar with.
“That sounds… nice.” Jounouchi frowned. He looked like he wanted to accept, but feared the unseen consequences.
“I don’t have time to waste on you making decisions. If your ego can’t handle being defeated by a superior duelist, then I’ll have the limo drop you off at home and I’ll see you at the next tournament.” For some reason, Seto felt his face warm. Not much could incite heat like that in him, and he was furious that Jounouchi somehow had.
“Calm down, dude. We can play. I need the practice.” Jounouchi leaned back into the leather seat.
Seto sat back as well, arms crossed over his body, still unsettled by their proximity. After a few minutes of tense silence, Jounouchi whipped out an outdated cellphone.
“Look at this.” He swiped across the screen until he came to an image. He enlarged it and tilted the screen in Seto’s direction.
“That’s gorgeous,” Seto confessed. It was a picture of the Blue Eyes White Dragon.
“This artist does the best fanart of the dragon cards. I followed them because of all the Red Eyes art they make.”
“What’s their username? I want to hire them,” Seto said.
“Seriously?”
“They have both talent and an eye for detail. Why should they waste that on free fanart when I could use them to promote my products?”
“It sounds so lame when you say it like that.”
Jounouchi frowned, but he backed out of the picture and showed Seto their Twitter username. Seto made a mental note of it so he could have his secretary contact them with an offer later. Meanwhile, he messaged ahead to inform his chef that he’d have a dinner guest and requested sashimi for himself and a dragon roll for Jounouchi. Their conversation wandered to Duel Monsters. The next big tournament was months away, but they both agreed on the finalist line-up.
“Yugi, of course,” Jounouchi said.
“Naturally.”
“And you and Mokuba. Mai Kujaku, Haga and Ryuzaki-”
“Those two will be the first to go. The bar has been raised too high for the likes of them.”
“Yeah. Notice how competitors are getting younger each tournament? We’re going to be dueling kids before too long.”
“I won’t show them any mercy just because they’re young.”
“You don’t show anyone mercy for any reason.” Jounouchi fidgeted with his fingers, nerves this time, not cold. “You know I’ll make it that far too, right?”
“I’m sure dumb luck will somehow allow you to weasel into the finals. It always does.” A smug expression settled on Seto’s face. “But the moment you face me, it’s over for you.”
“You’re a prick, you know that?”
“What? Would you rather me comfort you with bedtime stories or tell you the truth? I’m a duelist, not a wet nurse. I don’t know any fairy tales.”
“I’ll beat you one day.”
“Sure. I’ll kiss your feet the day you beat me in a duel.”
“Better buy some chapstick, Money Bags. Tonight might be the night for you to pucker up.”
“Unlikely, Mutt.”
“I’ll show you!”
“By all means.” Seto gestured with his hand, although it jostled their bodies together. Again, Seto cursed Jounouchi for sitting too close.
They arrived and a maid escorted them into the small parlor that Seto used to entertain single guests on the rare occasion that he had one over. Jounouchi whistled when he saw the spread. Steam rose from two bowls of miso soup and a basket of edamame. There was extra rice for Jounouchi, and the dragon roll- fashioned to resemble an actual dragon- flying through a sea of fresh orchid blossoms.
“Damn, if this is how you treat someone you don’t like, I’d love to see how you’d spoil a friend.”
“I’ve never had a friend to even consider such nonsense.” Seto frowned as he sat at his end of the table.
“Well if you need a fake friend to practice on, I volunteer.” Jounouchi grinned to show he was teasing. “Call Yugi if you need a reference on my friendship qualifications.”
“That line was far more clever than I’m used to from you,” Seto said in a dry tone. He ignored the smile on Jounouchi’s face. He didn’t want to look at the fool just then.
“Guess I’m getting sophisticated in my old age.”
“Hardly.”
“Come on, you know my charm’s growing on you. You’ve already asked me out to dinner!” Jounouchi laughed, drinking his soup straight from the bowl.
“Use a spoon, you savage.” Seto scowled, picking up his own spoon in demonstration.
“I knew you were going to harp on me for something.” Jounouchi grabbed his spoon, frowning at it before using it.
“You wanted chopsticks. I obliged. What more do you want from me if you don’t even know how to use a soup spoon?”
“It’s just broth! And it’s cold as hell outside. Who wants a drop at a time?”
“I was led to believe that hell was rather warm.”
Jounouchi slammed the spoon on the table and grabbed the entire bowl again, chugging it like a bottle of sake and smacking it on the table with a satisfied sigh. He even wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie, maintaining eye contact the entire time and challenging Seto to comment on his behavior.
“You’re a child, and I’m not dignifying that with a retort.”
“You just retorted, so ha!”
“God, do you even know what retort means?” Seto rubbed at his temple. Even now, when he thought of God, he thought of Obelisk. He may have lost his god card, but he never lost the birthright to call upon it.
“A retort is a comeback, poor don’t mean dumb.”
“Eloquent.” Seto toasted Jounouchi’s vocabulary with his glass of wine before taking a sip.
“Bite me, Kaiba.”
For some reason, Seto’s mind conjured the image of him biting Jounouchi’s hand. It would serve the moron right, for using such a stupid phrase. Not that Seto would ever, but he was fed up with Jounouchi’s foolishness and they hadn’t even shuffled their cards yet. They focused on their meal, setting aside the banter for the time being. Afterward Seto showed Jounouchi his personal simulation room.
“Fancy.” Jounouchi’s eyes were wide as he scanned the huge room.
“We can duel anywhere on the earth in here, during any time period.”
“Neat, can we duel in Ancient Egypt?”
“Anywhere else.” Seto felt like his jaw would break from the tension it held.
“Fine, you pick a place if you’re going to be picky.” Jonouchi clenched his fists.
“Don’t you ever get sick of Egypt?”
“No way! It reminds me of Atem.”
“That's the problem,” Seto muttered under his breath.
“Oh, I get it.” A warm smile tinted Jounouchi’s expression. “You miss him, too. Don't you?”
“Don't be ridiculous.”
“It's okay if you miss him, Seto.” Jounouchi's face grew bright red again, only this time not from cold. “I mean, K-Kaiba.”
Seto stared at the floor. “You need a duel disk, don't you?”
“Yeah. Usually carry mine, but it's on the fritz.”
Of course it was. He had one of the original models. And of course he did, he couldn't afford the newer ones. Seto walked over to a case in the corner of the room.
“Here. Keep this one. I don't want to duel you with old junk.”
“It was made by Kaiba Corp, so if it's junk, what does that say about you?” Jounouchi snapped.
The argument was a blessed distraction from the way Seto's stomach felt when Jounouchi had blurted his name out as if they were childhood friends. He glared at Jounouchi.
“The moment I designed a new model the old one became obsolete. Stop arguing and get your cards ready.”
He typed in a setting for their game. They found themselves in the center of a volcano. Lava boiled around them as they stood on a mesa of stone.
“Just like you to pick some show-offy place like a volcano for a duel.” Jounouchi scoffed.
“Show-offy. Nice. I’ll be sure to use that the next I’m dueling a five-year-old.”
“Bite me!”
“You say that so much I’m beginning to wonder if there isn’t repressed motivation behind the demand.” Sweat rolled down Seto’s temples from the heat of the simulated lava and the air was thick and hard to breath in. Perfect. Seto wanted to see how they’d duel in less-than-ideal circumstances.
“Screw you! You know that’s not what I meant!” Jounouchi shouted, clearly flustered.
“That certainly escalated. Done with the foreplay already?”
“Yes I’m done with the foreplay! Now draw a card, Kaiba. I’m about to beat your smug ass!”
Seto laughed. The idiot made it too easy, and Jounouchi blushed too easily. Seto summoned an Enraged Battle Ox and ended his turn.
“Th-that’s not what- quit taking everything I say literally you pervert!” Jounouchi placed Darkfire Soldier #1 down in attack mode and an additional facedown card before ending his own turn.
“You’re the one speaking in Freudian slips, how am I a pervert?”
Seto’s face was smirking, but he was pissed off since Darkfire Soldier had the same amount of attack points as his Ox. He summoned Luster Dragon and attacked, killing the Darkfire Soldier and doing 200 damage.
“They’re not slips!” Jounouchi slammed down Gearfried the Iron Knight and set down another card face down.
“Are they not? Does that mean they’re intentional?”
Seto didn’t trust Jounouchi’s face down cards. Nonetheless, he tributed both his cards to summon the Blue Eyes White Dragon, but Jounouchi used Waboku to negate all damage.
“Maybe you’re reading into my words what you want to hear!”
“Please. Like I’d want to sleep with a third-rate duelist like you.”
“I’ll show you who’s third-rate.” He summoned Princess of Tsurugi and used her and his other monster to bring out his Red Eyes Black Dragon.
“Nice dragon, dork, but it’s nothing compared to the Blue Eyes!”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Kaiba! Because I have Malevolent Nuzzler, which makes my Red Eyes even stronger than your Blue Eyes!”
It was barely a scratch to Seto’s life points, but it was a significant hit to his ego. He used Call of the Haunted to bring back the Blue Eyes and use Dragon’s Treasure to get her attack points high enough to kill the Black Eyes.
“Really? You’re so butthurt over losing your Blue Eyes that you’re willing to destroy her just to get back at my card?”
“Yes.” Seto ground his teeth together. “I have two more in my deck. More than enough to beat a loser like you!”
“Fine then.” Jounouchi summoned Island Turtle and placed more face down cards onto the field that Seto was sure would be traps.
The game went on much the same. Each time Seto got ahead, Jounouchi would catch up. He won, in the end by using, but only by 500 points which was in no way the crushing defeat Seto had planned for.
“Phew!” Jounouchi wiped sweat off of his face. “Okay, okay, you’re as good as ever. Happy? Can we please turn off this stupid hologram now? I’m cooking in my skin.”
Seto snorted, but shut down the program. Seto bit the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions from showing on his face. Furious, he was furious at himself for not doing a better job.
“Thanks.” Jounouchi sighed. “So, um, you told me to keep this, right?”
“Yes, for our next duel,” Seto said without hesitation.
“Sure. Guess I'll see you at the next tournament then.” Jounouchi chuckled.
“I'll send the limo for you Wednesday at 8pm. I should be home from work by the time you get here.”
“You… want to duel again? But you beat me.” Jounouchi's arms dropped at his sides.
Not enough. Seto should have done better. And something else in Seto… well, he wanted to keep dueling. That was all.
“Only a fool assesses their skills on a single duel. I need several data points for proper analysis. Besides, it's good practice for you, having the privilege of dueling a master such as myself.”
“Do you ever listen to yourself? How vain you are?”
“It's not vanity. I'm the best. That's a simple fact.”
“Whatevs. Thanks for the duel disk, in any case.”
“I'll escort you to the limo and have my driver take you home.” Seto marched out of the room.
Jounouchi caught up with him. They walked close, the ratty hoodie pressing against Seto’s suit jacket. Seto pursed his lips. Why did Jounouchi always get so close? Seto’s fingers twitched as he told himself to push Jounouchi back, but…
Seto darted into his library on their way to the garage. He grabbed a black jacket he remembered lying against the back of a chair the night before. It was from last winter, old by Seto’s fashion standards, but only worn a few times because it was shorter than Seto prefered.
“Here.” Seto shoved the jacket at Jounouchi.
“Am I holding this for you?”
“Wear it.”
“Why?”
“Your pathetic hoodie is rubbing against my suit. It’s pissing me off.”
Jounouchi shoved the coat back at Seto. “I don’t want charity.”
“It’s not charity.” Seto pushed the coat back. They stopped walking so they could shove the material at each other, leaned into each other close enough to feel breath against their cheeks.
“Yeah? What is it? A gift? That’s something you’d do for a friend, and I know I’m not your friend.”
“It’s a gift from one duelist to another.”
“Ha! Are you finally admitting I can play?” Jounouchi laughed, but the tone suggested that he expected Seto to respond with another quip.
“Yes.” Seto dropped his arms.
It caught Jounouchi by surprise and he accidentally pushed Seto against the wall, coat between them. Jounouchi stood a moment, dumbfounded and blinking at Seto. Outside was still dismal and gray, but the storm between them was charged with electricity and it made gooseflesh pucker on the nape of Seto’s neck as he stood against the wall, waiting to see what the idiot would do.
“Really?” Jounouchi whispered the question.
Seto only gave a soft grunt in affirmation. Jounouchi pulled back, as if just aware of their position. He held the coat close to him for a moment before slipping into it.
“Stinks like money,” Jounouchi gave a nervous laugh.
His cheeks were flushed again. Seto wanted to cup his face again. Strange, how certain sights or smells or sounds brought back memories or random urges. Seto thought perhaps he should read up on it, so he could understand how it was all just electric impulses in the brain that saps misconceived as feelings. They made it to the garage without further drama, and Seto peered into the cold night. He felt the sleet chill his face as he watched the limo, and Jounouchi with it, disappear into darkness.
***
Twice a week Seto would invite Katsuya over to duel, and each time he won. However, Katsuya made him earn each win. It was never a true victory for Seto, never the kind of win that allowed him to gloat. It was the breath-holding, brow-sweating, barely-scraping-by sort of wins that made Seto grind his teeth and demand they duel again. Thus, it should not have been a surprise the day that Katsuya pulled out Rainbow Dragon at the end of their game and knock Seto’s LP down to 0.
“Yes! Fucking yes!” Jounouchi jumped up and down with his fist in the air. “Holy cow! Did you see that? I can’t believe I pulled that off! Yes!”
Katsuya bleached hair bounced as he jumped. His grin was big enough to consume his whole face, and Seto… couldn’t stop staring. Seto swallowed, trying to bring a formal “congratulations” to his lips, but he couldn’t speak.
“What do you have to say for yourself now, Kaiba?”
“I… need to sit down.” Seto pressed himself against the wall and slide down to the floor. It wasn’t dignified, but Seto was in shock. It should not have been a surprise, but Seto was rendered speechless, thoughtless, by the loss.
Katsuya crouched in front of him, grinning. “Hey, Seto?”
“Hmm?”
“Weren’t you going to kiss my feet if I ever won?”
Seto growled, but it was true. He had said it, but he never thought Katsuya would throw his words back at him.
“I have a better idea,” Katsuya said.
Seto’s blue eyes lifted up to Katsuya’s face, wondering what he was up to. Katsuya, that stupid grin still on his face, leaned in and touched his lips against Seto’s. Caught off guard, Seto froze in place. His brain shut down, needing to reboot and reassess the situation. His belly, however, his belly quivered with nerves, and flared with a thrilling, tense sensation. Only, before the excitement in Seto’s gut had time to spread throughout his body and thaw his limbs, Katsuya pulled back, giving a nervous laugh.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorr- no, I’m not though.” Katsuya shook his head and stood up, marching out of the dueling chamber.
Seto reached out, trying to pull Katsuya back to him, but the other duelist was gone. Seto pushed himself to his feet, knees wobbling, and ran out of the room and down the hall. He searched for bleached hair, but the hallway was empty. Seto raced toward his garage, but the chauffeur explained that “Mr. Jounouchi” had declined his customary ride home. Seto stared out into the night sky. The stars reminded Seto of chips of ice, and his breath rose like dragon steam from his lips.
“Dammit,” Seto cursed the stars.
He thought about climbing into his limo and searching for the stray dog. He could have gone to the roof and took the helicopter if he was inclined, but he was not going to run after Katsuya. Seto clenched his jaw and stormed to his room. He stripped to his boxers and crawled into bed, not bothering with his usual sleepwear. He tried to sleep, but couldn't, so Seto grabbed his cell phone and texted Katsuya.
When are we dueling next?
No answer for fifteen minutes.
We’re dueling Wednesday, right?
No answer for another fifteen minutes.
What the fuck was Katsuya’s problem? He was the one that kissed Seto. Why would he do that and disappear? Yes, Seto froze, but he hadn’t said stop- he hadn’t said leave…
He hadn’t said stay either. He had wanted to, but he’d been overwhelmed and unable to respond. Was Katsuya embarrassed? Did he regret doing it? No, Seto didn’t think he regretted it. He tried to say sorry, but admitted he wasn’t. It must have been because Seto didn’t respond. Katsuya feared the kiss had been unwanted.
Dammit, answer me.
Seto considered getting his helicopter after all, but then his phone beeped.
Is *dueling* all you want to talk about? Are you sure there’s nothing else?
Of course there was something else. Of course he wanted to talk about the kiss, but as Seto lifted his fingers to type an answer- he froze again. He… couldn’t. He needed more time to assess things in his own head. He also needed to see Katsuya again.
I want a rematch.
A rematch… a duel monsters rematch?
Of course.
Fine. Whatever. Wednesday.
WHY ARE YOU MAD?!
It was the first time Seto, in his entire life, had ever typed in all capital letters, or used a interrobang, but it was the first time he lost to Katsuya Jounouchi as well. It took another five minutes for an answer.
I’m not. I’m tired. Goodnight.
It was the harshest “goodnight” Seto had ever seen. He’d had assassination attempts on his life that hurt less that that single, patronizing word. Seto started typing something else, but he didn’t know what he wanted to ask, or what he wanted to say, so he dropped the phone onto his bed and curled up beneath his goose-down duvet. No matter how tight he shut his eyes, he couldn’t stop the feel of Katsuya’s lips against his.The moment replayed in Seto’s mind until Seto thought he might never rest again, but then his alarm was screeching, and Seto realized he’d fallen asleep some time in the middle of the night.
Seto knew how to get work done no matter what turmoil he faced, so no one noticed he was screaming internally as he conducted meetings, tested new products, played a celebrity duel for charity, and put out a new line of duel monsters merchandise. It wasn’t until Tuesday night that Mokuba walked into Seto’s home office with a plate and set it down on his desk that Seto knew that Mokuba knew something was wrong. Mokuba always knew.
“I cooked this myself. Steak and baked potato.”
“Thank you.” Seto saved his projects and began eating, knowing that anything less would lead to circular conversations that he didn’t have time for.
“Gonna talk about it?” Mokuba asked.
Yet another conversation Seto didn’t want to have, but there was no escaping this one. It was why Mokuba was there.
“Is Jounouchi coming by to duel tomorrow?” his brother asked another question, herding their conversation.
“Of course. It’s Wednesday,” Seto managed to keep his voice calm and level without any effort.
“Did he do something to upset you? Because I’ll poison his spaghetti again.”
“We’re fine.” Seto chewed his food.
“I haven't seen you so upset since… you know.”
Since Atem left. Yes.
“It’s fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, big brother.”
Seto noted that while last year Mokuba's feet had dangled from the chair, they now rested in the floor. Mokuba had asked for the suit he wore, and requested that he get a haircut. More and more he was taking on responsibilities from the company, and if anyone asked why, Mokuba always responded that he wanted to be just like his big brother.
“I don’t deserve you.” Seto shook his head, fork toying with his baked potato.
“What?” Mokuba shouted in protest.
Seto raised his hand to cease the counter argument his saw in his brother’s expression. Once Mokuba’s shoulders dropped a centimeter, showing that he was willing to listen, Seto lowered his hand.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, what I meant was…” well, if he was going to have to start talking about his feelings, perhaps it was better he practiced on Mokuba first. Mokuba deserved to hear what Seto had to say anyway. “You’re a good brother, Mokuba. You’ve exceeded every single expectation that one could place on a sibling.”
“What the hell happened last Saturday during your duel?” Mokuba stared at Seto as if he might peel off his skin and reveal an imposter.
A huff of dry laughter snorted from Seto’s nostrils, but a slight grin accompanied the noise. “I lost.”
“That’s impossible! Against Jounouchi?”
“Hmph.”
Mokuba started laughing. He held his belly and doubled over his chair.
“What?”
“I figured out what’s wrong!” Mokuba stood up, patted Seto’s shoulder, and shook his head. “Do we need to have the talk about the birds and the bees?”
“Get out of my office, Mokuba.”
Unbelievable. His baby brother had more of a grip on relationships than he did. Mokuba only laughed at him, snuck in a quick side hug, and jogged out of the office. Seto sighed and went back to his work. Regardless of how he may or may not have felt, there were tasks to be completed before his duel with Katsuya the next day.
***
Seto was on his way to the parlor when he saw Katsuya standing in front of the doorway. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Seto noted that Katsuya wore his old, patched hoodie instead of the coat Seto had given him, and his old, beat up duel disk hung from his arm.
“Hello,” Seto said, testing the mood although he already knew Katsuya was still upset.
“I ate before I came. Let’s get straight to the duel.”
“If you’d like.” Seto turned and walked towards the simulation chamber.
“Yeah, I would like. Cuz I’m going to wipe the floor with you. I’m going to one turn kill your ass. You’re going to be in tears by the time I’m done!”
“I look forward to the challenge.” Seto grinned.
He should have kissed Katsuya then and there in the hallway. The challenge and determination in Katsuya’s voice alone was enough to make Seto’s heart stir in his chest, but Seto really did want to duel. He could tell that Katsuya was as frazzled and unsure inside as Seto himself. What better circumstances to duel under? If they could play their best here and now, no one could stand against them in a petty tournament. And Seto wanted to win. He wanted to win. But he wanted to see whether or not he would. It was something that not even Atem ever provided- that true balance of skill, no gods and no destiny helping either player. Just their strategy, their cards, their wills. It transcended a mere game. This was a dance, and Seto wasn’t going to give into his physical desire until the music stopped.
When the entered the room, Seto typed in a specific code, one he’d written solely for this match. The lights dimmed, but then the sun rose from the eastern horizon. The rays glittered against a river to the west of them. They both stood on a stage of polished granite. Sand dunes stretched out in the direction of the sun, but grasses and reeds grew closer to the river. Even the faint scent of water and mud reached them. Wind fluttered Katsuya’s hair as he stood and glared at Seto.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“You requested this setting the first time we played, remember?”
“Yes I remember. Why’d you pick Egypt now?”
Because he thought it’d make Katsuya smile.
But instead, Katsuya looked angry.
“I didn’t want to hear you complain.” Seto knew he was making it worse by lying, but he couldn’t handle the thought of misreading the situation. Of telling the truth only to be rejected himself. He couldn’t risk being vulnerable before their battle.
“Put this duel under the ocean and drown us for all I care! I’m still gonna kick your ass!”
“Then call it.”
“Tails!”
A coin appeared in the air between them. It flipped up above their heads, spun, and landing with a clink against the polished stone. The engraved image of a spiky-haired bust gleamed up at them once the coin settled.
“Dammit!” Katsuya swore under his breath as Seto drew a card and then set it face down. Katsuya growled at his cards. Seto could tell he hadn’t drawn what he wanted.
“What’s the matter? Did the Heart of the Cards let you down?”
“Fuck you!”
Seto raised an eyebrow without saying anything. Katsuya screamed through clenched teeth. He slammed a card down and ended his turn.
“You’d better compose yourself. I don’t want to win too easily.” Seto drew a card. He placed Lord of D. on the battlefield.
“I summon Maha Vailo, and I equip him with Malevolent Nuzzler which combined with Vailo’s special ability will raise his attack to 2750. More than enough to kill your Lord of D.” Katsuya summoned the spell caster who sat and floated in the air in front of Katsuya for a moment before disintegrating Seto’s card. Katsuya snorted. “Who’s playing with innuendos now?”
Seto clenched his teeth. He didn’t care about the life points he lost half as much as the fact that he was hoping to draw The Flute of Summoning Dragon soon, but that spell would be useless to him without Lord of D. on the field. And, as if he called it, the next card he drew was the exact one he wanted. Fortunately, he had another spell he could use to fix the problem.
“I use Monster Reborn to bring back Lord of D. and then use The Flute of Summoning Dragon to bring out Interplanetarypurplythorny Dragon and Luster Dragon #2, which I’ll enhance with the first card I put down-” Seto flipped over his last card to reveal Horn of the Unicorn. “Now my Luster Dragon #2 can kill Maha Vailo while Interplanetarypurplythorny Dragon attacks your life points directly!”
“Hold up! You do 350 damage after killing Maha Vailo, but you forgot my face down card! Spirit of the Harp takes the damage instead of me!”
“That only saved you for one turn.”
“Maybe.” Katusya sniffed in frustration. “I’m bringing out Scapegoat, and place down two other cards.”
“Then I draw!” Seto shouted, getting lost in the heat of the moment.
“Then I spring my first trap- Just Desserts- and you have three monsters on your side of the field so that’ll be 1500 LP off your total.”
“Cheap tactics, Jounouchi!”
“Well I’m a broke, cheap street rat, Kaiba!” Katsuya tugged at his raggedy hoodie to prove his point.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re a prince or a pauper!” Seto yelled across the stage. “Skill is the only thing that matters when once the game starts!”
“Well if we’re going by skill- looks like I outclass you so far! I’m ahead aren’t I?”
“Relish it.” Seto muttered between gritted teeth. “It won’t last long. I’m bringing out Enraged Battle Ox and tributing him and Lord of D. to bring out my Blue Eyes White Dragon, so unless you have another pathetic trap, kiss three of your Scapegoats goodbye.”
“Y’done?”
“Yes,” Seto snarled.
“My turn. I place another card face down, use Dian Keto the Cure Master to gain 1000 LP, and use Fissure to destroy Interplanetarypurplythorny Dragon.”
“Son-of-a-bitch.” Seto raked his fingers through his hair. Not only had Katsuya killed one of his dragons, but now he had more than his original 8,000 LP while Seto had only 4950. Seto’s heart rioted in his chest. He couldn’t lose twice in a row. He couldn’t.
But he might.
And that was the thrill of it all, wasn’t it?
Seto set a card down and attacked with his remaining two dragons. The Blue Eyes took out Katsuya’s last Scapegoat and his Luster Dragon #2, still equipped with his Horn of the Unicorn, brought Katsuya down to 5900. At the very least Seto had brought things closer to equilibrium, and Katsuya’s spells and traps wouldn’t last forever.
“I set down another card and end my turn.”
Seto smirked. Katsuya was trying to build up his defenses by summoning more monsters, or maybe he hoped to get out his Red Eyes or Summoned Skull, but Seto wasn’t going to give him the chance.
“I summon Blizzard Dra-”
“I activate my trap card Trap Hole-”
“Fine!” Seto slammed his card into his graveyard before the computer could even generate the hologram. “I attack with the two dragons I have.”
Katsuya bit his lip. “I use Shield and Sword to swap their attack and defense points.”
“I end my turn.”
“I tribute my two current monsters to summon my Red Eyes Black Dragon.”
“Which is weaker than each of my dragons.”
“I’m not done. I use Ultimate Offering to set a card and…” The cards shook in Katsuya’s hands. He slammed both eyes shut and cursed. “Dammit, it’s still not enough!”
Katsuya dropped to his knees, punching the ground. That didn’t stop Seto from grinning. “And I have Megamorph so-”
“Yes, you win! I get it! Fuck!” Katsuya stayed on his knees and knuckles, his hands gripped in two fists. “This is bullshit!”
Seto found himself laughing as all the monsters disappeared. He left the scenery, however, the sun was higher in the sky and it was getting hot. Seto dropped his jacket and walked over to Katsuya. He sat down cross legged in front of his opponent and finally caved into the urge to cup Katsuya’s cheeks with both of his hands, lifting his face up so Katsuya could look at Seto- but Katsuya ripped his head away.
“Don’t-”
“Sorry, I… thought…” Seto felt shot in the chest. He couldn’t breathe because there was a hole in his lungs.
“You said you just wanted to duel. You won. I’m going home now.”
“Why?”
“Because if you only care about these stupid card games-”
“They’re not- look, that’s besides the point. I-”
“That is the point!” Katsuya jumped to his feet and spun away from Seto.
The way he wiped his eyes with his sleeves made Seto assume he was struggling with tears. Katsuya stormed towards the direction of the door, invisible to them, but they’d been in the room dozens of times together. Seto rose from sitting to kneeling, shouting at Katsuya’s back.
“Get back here!”
Katsuya froze in his tracks, but refused to look at Seto. Seto hugged himself, staring at the Nile and not Katsuya.
“You’re not giving me enough time.”
“Time for what?”
“To respond.”
“Respond to what? Your victory? Yeah, yeah, yeah! I know I’m a loser already so-”
“Respond to the kiss!” Seto shouted, biting the inside of his cheek afterward to regain his composure.
Katsuya stood in silence for a moment. He turned, eyes red-rimmed, but he wasn’t crying. He watched Seto in the same way he had in the limo, expecting a trap. Seto folding his hands in front of him to help him hold things inside.
“I’m trying.”
“Trying?” Katsuya asked as if Seto was somehow being facetious.
“I wanted a rematch. I wanted to win. I wanted…” Seto looked around at the sand and reeds around them, at the river and sky, at anything that wasn’t Katsuya. “I wanted you to come back. I wanted you here. You left Saturday before I had a chance to act or even think, but I didn’t want you to leave.”
“Could have fooled me,” Katsuya spoke in a low voice. “The way you froze… scared the hell out of me. I half expected security to come and club me upside the head.”
“Had that been necessary, I would have done it myself,” Seto said.
“I don’t get it.” Katsuya paced across the stage. “If you weren’t pissed off at me, why’d didn’t you say something when you texted? Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you-”
“I told you, I’m trying.” Seto furrowed his brow.
“It’s really that hard for you isn’t it?” Katsuya sat down again, so Seto finally shifted his gaze towards the other duelist. “To admit anything you’re feeling.”
Seto nodded.
“You’re so vocal when-”
“When I duel. I know.”
Katsuya sniffed. “I thought if I could beat you again, then you’d see me as a real duelist and then you’d respect me like you respected-”
“I do respect you,” Seto interrupted before Katsuya could say the other name. This wasn’t about him. This was about Seto and Katsuya. “Why do you think I keep asking you to duel? You make me work my ass off for each win, and even now I have no idea how the next duel will turn out.”
“Next duel?” Katsuya grinned.
“If you come back again this Saturday.”
Electricity jolted through Seto’s system when Katsuya grabbed both of his hands and lifted them back up to his cheeks. Katsuya grinned as Seto held his face. Seto’s own lips twitched, not quite a smile, but something trying to turn into one. They stared at each other for a moment, and then… Katsuya lidded his eyes and parted his lips. Seto leaned in. The way he touched his lips against Katsuya’s hardly counted, but Katsuya gasped nonetheless. It encouraged Seto to glance their lips together again. He took his time, touching his lips against Katsuya’s a little more slowly and a little more deliberately with each pass. Katsuya remained patient, allowing Seto to pace them, but when Seto dabbed his tongue against the center of Katsuya’s bottom lip, Katsuya threaded his fingers into Seto’s hair and deepened their kiss.
Seto locked up again, but clutched at Katsuya’s hoodie so he didn’t pull away. After a few moments, the tension in Seto’s shoulders slacked, and his jaw relaxed, and he sighed audibly against Katsuya’s lips. Seto tugged the zipper down Katsuya’s hoodie and shoved the material away from his chest and shoulders. He grabbed Katsuya’s shoulders, feeling the heat of his body transfer through his cotton t-shirt and into Seto’s kneading fingers and palms. Katsuya dropped down to Seto’s neck, and Seto tossed his head back and uttered a low, gravelly groan.
“Should I slow down?” Katsuya pulled back, as if he wasn’t sure how to interpret the sound Seto had made.
Seto shook his head no, and Katsuya held his cheeks which caught fire the moment Katsuya’s palms rested against them.
“Talk to me,” Katsuya said, wanting words, perhaps instruction, instead of gestures.
“Don’t stop.” Seto’s voice sounded raw and unused.
Katsuya pulled them together again, lips touching lips. Seto’s hands worked down from Katsuya’s shoulders to his chest. The more he grabbed and caressed Katsuya’s body, the more Seto wanted to feel their bodies pressed together. He slipped his hands beneath the fabric of Katsuya’s shirt, needing to touch the skin below. Katsuya trailed down Seto’s throat and to his sternum. Seto bowed his back, pressing his chest out and into each kiss.
“Want a quick, decisive tour of the mansion?”
“I rather have a quick, decisive tour of your body.” Katsuya continued to lavish kisses across Seto’s chest.
“I assure you, the two are not mutually exclusive.”
“Seto, my brain’s been on overtime all week thinking about card strategies and making out. Gimme a break and say what you mean.”
“Bedroom, Katsuya.” Seto stood up and grabbed the front of Katsuya’s shirt to pull him up as well. “Now.”
“Yes sir.” Katsuya licked his kiss swollen lips, excited now that he understood Seto’s intentions.
Seto allowed him to grab his hoodie and Seto grabbed his own coat, but he kept towing Katsuya by the shirt as he lead him down the main hall and to his bedroom. In his room, Seto shoved him onto the bed and pointed at him, suggesting he stay in place.
“I want you naked,” Seto said.
Katsuya’s jaw dropped and his eyes dilated. He regained enough composure to pull the shirt up over his head. Meanwhile, Seto went to a compartment at his head board and reached inside. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Promise not to laugh,” Seto said.
“I’m too turned on to laugh.” Katsuya kicked out of his jeans and boxers, cock bobbing as he fumbled with his socks.
Seto smiled at the excited mess of a duelist that he’d created with a few direct words. He pulled out the bottle of lube and handed it to Katsuya before undoing all the straps and buckles on his own outfit. The impossibly high, custom boots were always the most difficult to remove. That was why he didn’t bother with house slippers.
“Dragon cum? Wait, is this lube?”
“Yes.” Seto’s fingers became clumsy as he continued to undress. His stomach was jittery with excitement, and perhaps a little apprehension at the easy dragon-fetish jokes he’d just opened himself up to.
“This is cool!” Katsuya declared. “Where’d you find this stuff?”
“The internet.”
It surprised Seto for a moment, but then Seto remembered they both had dragon-themed decks. He was out of it indeed if he was forgetting about cards in lieu of Katsuya’s body. As Seto finished undressing, Katsuya dabbed some of the white gel onto his pointer finger and touched it to his thumb.
“It’s even stringy. I need to get a bottle for myself.”
“I’ll order two next time.”
“Seto.” Katsuya frowned. “I told you, I don’t like charity.”
“It’s a gift.”
“For a fellow duelist?” Katsuya snorted.
Seto sat at the edge of the bed. He was not the sort of man to feel nervousness, however… “For my boyfriend?”
“Oh.” Katsuya’s hand dropped, lube forgotten. “Yeah, that would be okay then.”
Seto released the breath he’d been holding. He lay down on his back and found a comfortable position, beckoning Katsuya to crawl towards him. Katsuya obeyed, hoving over Seto and looking down so that their gazes met.
“Touch me,” Seto uttered.
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
Katsuya laughed, dragging his fingertips down Seto’s chest. He zig-zagged all the way to Seto’s legs, caressing the bottom of Seto’s bent legs.
“Your fucking legs, man. I’ve always loved staring at them.”
Seto felt himself blushing. Everyone was so afraid of him- for good reason, he made sure of it- that he never got compliments about his looks, but he realized he liked hearing it.
“Um… have you ever?”
“No.” Seto looked away. “Is that a problem?”
“No. No.” Katsuya shook his head, stopping to scratch the back of his scalp. “But I’m kinda nervous now.”
“Hmph, you’re nervous.” Seto snorted.
“Just tell me, if I do something you don’t like, okay?”
“Okay.” Seto forced himself not to hold his breath. Katsuya returned to kissing Seto’s thighs, still running his fingers across Seto’s skin. He started to nip at Seto’s pale skin and Seto gasped. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“Okay.” Katsuya grinned as he grabbed the bottle and coated his finger again.
He smeared Seto’s asshole with the goo and then added more. He eased his first finger inside, only going in two centimeters at a time at first, but working his way as far as he could push. After one first he started with a second. Seto’s mouth dropped. He felt his cock twitch against his stomach.
“Please.” Seto closed his eyes.
“Damn, didn’t know that word was even in your vocabulary.”
“It’s not.” Seto gave Katsuya half a smirk as he propped himself to his elbows.
“Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your fancy big-shot corporate image.” Katsuya pulled out his fingers and coated Seto with more of the thick, white lube.
He also smeared the lube over his dick, pulling back the foreskin to make sure he was heavily saturated. Seto held his breath when he felt Katsuya’s warm cockhead pressed against his entrance. Katsuya waited a moment, however, circling around Seto’s entrance, teasing, flicking up and down.
“Just shove it in already.” Seto grit his teeth in frustration.
“Heh, no way. Just trust me.”
Instead of inserting, he leaned forward and kissed Seto again. Seto grabbed Katsuya’s hair. He twisted strands into thin ropes and used them like reins. With a calm, halting shift of his hips, Katsuya pushed forward until Seto’s body sucked in the slick cock. Seto hissed an exhale, shocked at how overwhelming the pressure was. Katsuya kissed the side of Seto’s face as he eased out, and then kissed the other side of Seto’s face as he eased back in. Seto moaned as he adjusted to the new feeling.
“Keep going.” Seto’s voice was raw, unfamiliar to his own blushing ears, but he wanted to say something encouraging so Katsuya didn’t second-guess himself and pull away.
Katsuya slid forward again, holding once he was entirely stuffed inside. Seto painted, body twitching in anticipation, and when Katsuya pulled back, Seto groaned low in his throat. He only half-registered the sensation of lips against his own or pressing against his temples, he was too consumed by each bright burst of pleasure that came from Katsuya’s thrusts.
Seto reached up with one hand, his left elbow dug into the mattress. He held the back of Katsuya’s head, keeping their bodies close. As Katsuya sped up, Seto’s hand migrated, digging into his shoulder, caressing his back, squeezing his ass. Seto hitched up, comfortable enough now to move in time with Katsuya. He felt the pleasure rise… rise… rise… but before it could peak, Katsuya moaned and trembled as he came. His hair hung down like streamers into his face, sweat dripped from his nose, and his chest contracted and expanded with uneven pants of breath.
“S-sorry.” He muttered it like he had after the kiss, only this time he meant it. “Got too excited.”
“It’s okay,” Seto said. He reached down to grab his aching cock, but Katsuya caught his hand and brought it up to kiss it.
“Here. Let me.”
Seto expected Katsuya to stroke him, so when he slipped out, dropped down, and took Seto’s cock all the way into his mouth, Seto called out in surprise and euphoria. The warmth and wetness were perfect as Katsuya raised and lowered his head. Seto bucked, his fingers twisted into Katsuya’s buttermilk blonde hair. Seto hooked one of his long, slender legs over Katsuya’s shoulder so he could lift his hips higher up, deeper into Katsuya’s mouth. His thighs squeezed and his chest tightened as he felt himself coming. Seto cried out in warning, unable to speak as the pleasure devoured his mind.
Then everything was cozy and quiet, except his heart beat which thrummed in his own ears. He lay spread-eagle against the mattress, and Katsuya used his chest as a pillow, writing out random kanji against Seto’s skin.
“Guess I should go,” Katsuya muttered.
“So soon?” Seto lifted up his head, frowning.
“You don’t want to work or something?”
“Not at the moment.” Seto graced his fingers down the side of Katsuya’s cheeks. “Stay.”
“I like when you say that.”
“Stay?”
“Yeah. It lets me know that you actually want me to stay.”
“Hmph. Blow me.” Seto snorted.
“But I-”
“Yes, I know. I was being ironic.”
“Tch, you think I’d figure that out by now, but I’m no good with subtlety.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I’m trying.” Katsuya said.
This, also, made Seto smile. He supposed they were both trying. Communication, like dueling, was a skill that improved with practice.
“Stay the night.” Seto felt like he’d sleep better with Katsuya resting on his chest all through the night.
“...okay.”
Seto combed his finger through Katsuya’s hair, falling asleep and staying asleep until his alarm went off.
***
Seto sighed as he stared out the window, only half listening to the report. It wasn’t until after everyone else left the room that Mokuba poked Seto’s shoulder.
“Reminds you of when we were little, doesn’t it?” Mokuba asked, following his gaze out the window.
“Yes,” Seto answered. Mokuba didn’t need to be specific. He knew his brother meant the weather and the orphanage. It was that time of year, where every day was cold, dark, and weary.
“But you’re smiling today. Is it because it’s finally Saturday?” Mokuba asked in an innocent voice that was anything but innocent.
“I switched up my deck a bit, added more counter-measures against traps.”
“Mmmm, yeah, I bet it’s the trap cards that have you staring out the window.” Mokuba walked right up to the glass, leaning forward but not touching. “Isono says people get depressed in this sort of weather, but it never really bugged me.” Mokuba glanced over his shoulder, smiling. “I guess it’s because even back then we were together, so we got through each winter.”
Seto nodded in approval, his agreement silent yet resolute.
“What about you? Do you ever get depression on days like this?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not the sort of sentimental fool that allows the weather to affect my moods.”
Besides, fresh memories were starting to patch up the gaps in his memory caused by too many Shadow Games with Atem. Mokuba was still there, Mokuba would always be there in his memories- a cold toddler with red cheeks that Seto would cup to warm, a young child sneaking a hand-drawn BEWD card into Seto’s studies, an older child running around with Seto during tournaments, the current Mokuba (barely a child anymore and wearing a suit). And now there was a growing collection of memories with Katsuya- Katsuya walking alone in the rain and sleet with a patched and faded hoodie, Katsuya flinging himself into game after game with the same passion as Seto himself had, Katsuya gradually learning the difference between the soup and dessert spoons, Katsuya beating Seto for the first time and stealing Seto’s first kiss.
Seto smiled, despite the weather he smiled, despite his past he smiled, despite himself he smiled.