Archive of Our Own ^beta

            Joey likes to think he’s an expert in one very specific field: translating Kaiba’s short, cryptic sentences and behaviors into actually straightforward ones.

            For example, Kaiba texting him at all is a dead giveaway that he needs to regress sometime soon, even if it’s a simple text like “how are you?” When he’s big, he’d rather pretend like his regression, and by extension, Joey, don’t even exist.

             Joey checks to make sure his boss isn’t looking before opening his phone.

            The text reads, Wheeler, when are you free?

            Translation: I am feeling very small at the moment and would like some emotional support.

            Joey texts back a quick response, saying he’ll be free after five. Kaiba’s next response is startlingly frank.

            Bring Blue.

            Joey answers with a string of emojis he uses only because he knows it gets a rise out of Kaiba and starts typing out a list of everything he needs to pack before heading over to Kaiba’s office.

            As per their agreement, Blue stayed with Joey at all times. Nothing in the world terrified Kaiba more than the thought of accidentally leaving a stuffed toy out for anyone to find, and Joey probably would’ve thought the whole thing irrational if he didn’t know how many people were actively trying to bring KaibaCorp to its knees on any given day. Maybe it was a fear they could work through in the future, but for now, he’s more than happy to oblige.

            Security doesn’t bat an eye at him as he enters, not because they’ve seen enough of him to recognize him, but because he’s on the VIP list. Not to brag, but he’s the only person besides Mokuba that’s allowed access to Kaiba’s office at all times without an appointment—and thank God for that. Joey’s had more than his fair share of time stuck downstairs while Seto feels too little to call down and grant him entry.

            Joey pulls out his phone, bracing for a very long and very awkward elevator ride. Employees waft in and out, stopping on what feels like every single floor. It doesn’t help that Kaiba’s office is on the top floor, so by the time the elevator is finally empty, he’s spent nearly twenty minutes just scrolling through Twitter to kill the time.

            Joey navigates the halls, silently ticking off the stops on the ways to Kaiba’s office. Meeting room, broom closet, meeting room, Mokuba’s office. One more turn and he’s facing down Kaiba’s office.

            He scans his key card—one of three that can even access this room—and lets himself in.

            The office is empty but immaculate. Nothing has been overturned, so Joey thinks it’s safe enough to rule out the idea of kidnappers. It’s not a worry he’d ever have on his own, but Seto has fretted about it enough for the concern to pass over to him as well.

            He rounds the desk and leans down to find a pair of calm blue eyes peeking up at him.

            “Hey, Seto.” Joey kneels, and Seto’s face relaxes a fraction. He always hates people towering over him, even if it’s just Joey. “It’s been a day, hasn’t it?” Joey asks.

            Seto gives a slow, deliberate nod.

            “That’s okay. It’s over now, bub.” He reaches out to ruffle Seto’s hair, but thinks better of it. No sudden movements, no unwarranted touch. At least not right away.

            “Blue?” Seto rarely talks, but he’s always willing to go out on a limb for Blue. His voice is soft and rough, almost like he hasn’t been speaking recently, which is impossible considering his job. In reality, he’s just afraid of being heard like this.

            “Sure thing.” Joey shoulders his backpack and unzips it, taking the dragon plush in his hands.

            Seto eyes it like he wants nothing more than to snatch it from Joey’s hands and cuddle it to his chest, but he stays locked in place, body stiff as Joey presses it to his chest. He has such a habit of ragdolling, of being quiet and compliant and passive.

            Today, Joey is hoping to change that.

            “So I brought some games too.” Joey ventures.

            Immediately, Seto’s face hardens. There’s an unspoken agreement between them that when Joey is called over, they have a few hours of quiet time, maybe a nap, and then they both leave as if it had never happened. In fact, the most Joey was even able to get from Kaiba about any of this was just “sometimes the world feels too big.”

            Joey tries to continue like he isn’t heavily considering dropping the idea at any second. “Yeah!” He rustles around in his bag some more. “No Duel Monsters, though, don’t worry.”

            Seto does relax at the sound of that, and Joey can’t blame him. Having your entire company based around one complicated card game has to put a damper on the fun.

            Joey sets out a set of crayons and paper first, waiting to gauge Seto’s reaction. It’s not a game, but it was a last minute thought he had to act on. After all, who doesn’t like coloring?

            Seto wrinkles his nose. “No.”

            Joey tries not to grin. Because a “no” is awesome. A “no” is progress. A “no” is more than he’s ever gotten out of Seto in all the time they’ve spent together. That, and it’s funny that no matter how regressed Kaiba is or isn’t, his favorite word is always “no.”

            “Alright, what about these?” Joey pulls out a deck of cards, sure to immediately show that these are regular playing cards and not anything Duel Monsters-related. “Have you ever played Go Fish before?”

            Seto shakes his head.

            “What about Rummy? Old Maid?”

            Head shakes all around.

            “Guess we’ll just have to fix that, huh?”

            Joey starts to shuffle, trying not to preen at how Seto watches him with rapt attention. If there’s one good thing he learned from his dad, it’s how to look cool while shuffling a deck of cards. He doesn’t do it with his Duel Monsters cards, of course, but he’s more than happy to bend the backs of good old-fashioned playing cards.

            The game that Seto takes to the most is Go Fish, and Joey can only guess because of its sheer simplicity. Take a card, get a card taken. Get matches. Easy.

            Someone can probably only take so much Duel Monsters before the words “life points” trigger a fight-or-flight response, and Joey’s pretty sure that having your career, company, and hobby revolve around Duel Monsters is a surefire way to get there.

            Joey lets Seto win for the most part. He does try, but he throws more than a couple games. Asking for cards he doesn’t have, keeping a match in his hand for a couple extra turns, the works.

            Another constant, Seto loves to win. His chest puffs with pride for each new victory, and he gets a little more daring—meaning that he’s finally feeling brave enough to acknowledge Blue, who’s been sitting between him and Joey and watching them play.

            Seto’s been gradually dragging Blue closer to his side, and Joey’s been pretending not to notice. He knows how hard it can be for Seto to want things, and he’s not going to make it any harder on the kid than it already is.

            It’s around the fifth game that Seto finally takes Blue into his lap, nestling the stuffed dragon in the crook of his arm.

            It warms Joey’s heart to see just how much that simple thing relaxes him. The last traces of stress finally come melting off of Seto’s face.

            Joey grins. “Took ya long enough, bub.” He says it in jest, because sometimes it takes Seto hours to fully drop, but he never lets himself call it a day until Seto does.

            If he doesn’t, it gives Seto enough time to age up, thrusting him into his adult headspace with an added dose of shame and embarrassment. Sure, he’ll probably feel the very same thing in the morning when he wakes up, but at least he’ll have gotten a good night’s sleep first.

            Seto blinks slowly. His eyes look unbelievably heavy, like he could flop over right now and fall asleep on the carpet.

            Joey checks his watch and frowns. How overworked does Seto have to be this tired at six in the evening?

            Joey tosses down his last two cards, a pair of sevens, effectively ending the game. “How ya holding up, kid?”

            Seto lifts his sleepy gaze in Joey’s direction, his pout and plushie making him look all of six years old. He readjusts his hold on Blue, bringing it in a little tighter against his chest.

            Joey smirks. “I think that’s enough cards for now.” He gathers the playing cards, puts them back in their box, and drops the box in his bag.

            “Wanna talk about anything?”

            Seto shakes his head. No surprises there. If he’s feeling too little to even use his favorite word, then there’s no way he’s feeling up to spilling his guts.

            Joey nods. “Let’s go sit on the couch, okay?” He scooches over, closing the small space between him and Seto, and loops Seto’s free arm over his shoulders.

            He could never carry Seto, and even if he could, he’s pretty sure Seto would hate being picked up anyway. He barely tolerates Joey’s bear hugs, so Joey can’t imagine he’d take well to having his movement restricted even more.

            Seto all but collapses onto the couch, his exhaustion fully settling in. He curls in against Joey’s chest, yet another sign that his walls are finally down.

            Joey keeps his arm around Seto, absently working the knots out of his shoulders. Even regressed, he’s always so wound up, like a tightly coiled spring. Ready to lash out at any second.

            Joey redirects his attention to the window. The sun’s just beginning to set, sinking into the water beyond Domino City.

            Joey’s always been a fan of the sunsets; they always remind him of the time he spent with his sister when they were young.

            “You seem tired.” Joey murmurs after a long stretch of silence.

            Seto stirs, only proving his point. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, proof that he’d already been dozing in just those few moments of silence.

            “Did you stay up all night?” It’s a guess, but a well-educated one. In the short time he’s known about Seto’s regressive tendencies, he’s learned more about Kaiba’s job than he ever thought he would. Most importantly, that Kaiba doesn’t get awesome sleep. Meaning he pulls his share of all-nighters for the company’s sake.

            Seto nods.

            “That’s no fun.”

            Seto shakes his head, silently voicing his agreement. He sinks further against Joey’s shoulder and tightens his hold on Blue. His free arm is currently wound behind Joey’s back, his fingers wound nervously in Joey’s shirt but quickly loosening. He probably won’t last another minute before he’s out cold.

            “Don’t go.” Seto whimpers. His voice sounds so soft, so lost.

            “I’ll stay here.” Joey assures him.

            Seto’s hands tighten around Joey’s shirt, his body pressing against Joey’s, as if he might float away if Seto doesn’t hold on tightly enough.

            “I’m not going anywhere.”