Three Days Grace

He tapped his foot impatiently. Every ten seconds or so, he checked his watch. Still no sign of the house’s third occupant.



If he’s still sleeping, I’ll kill him, Kaiba thought, starting towards the stairs –



Just in time for a ball of blue and gold to go hurtling past him.



“I’m awake! I’m awake!” Puny protests, but satisfactory.



“Then come on. We’re late as it is.” Kaiba headed for the door.



“What about breakfast?” Incredulity laced with the after effects of staying awake much too long.



“I already ate,” he answered icily, sweeping out the door. After a moment’s indecision, the other followed, trailing behind Kaiba like a whipped cur.



The limo pulled up and one of the doors snapped open. Kaiba gestured and the other male slunk into the vehicle, taking up residence in one of the seats near the back. Out of the way. Out of mind.



Kaiba pulled his laptop out and began hunting for any stray signals. If he was fast enough, he could usually get in about five minutes worth internet time on the way to work – more than enough to brief the entire building on exactly what he expected before the end of the work day.



Efficiency was the key.



The other passenger stared silently out the window, legs pulled up close, the very picture of beaten obedience.



I’m getting tired of him, the brunet realized as his connection terminated in one area and he swiftly reestablished it with another network. Time to send him back to the gutter, where he belongs.



xxxxx



Once at the office, he stalked in, pointedly ignoring the curious gazes leveled his way by impertinent employees. He’d never brought… Well, it certainly wasn’t customary for him to be seen with another human being, so perhaps the glances were explainable.



Certainly not acceptable, though. Right before boarding the elevator, he cast a glance around the room, branding the faces of all those whispering excitedly into his mind. SO what if he was twenty employees short the next day? There were lines of folks queuing up to work for him. It hardly mattered, twenty more or less.



They’d be replaced by week’s end at the longest.



The elevator doors shut, and he stood in silence, glaring at the counter as it whizzed him up to the top floor. Beside him, just as silent, cowering slightly…



Just about time to get rid of him. Gutter rat.



Top floor.



The doors opened. Kaiba motioned, making the other exit first. He followed him out, the elevator doors shutting silently behind them.



“Second door on the right,” he instructed, pointing down the hall. “Don’t touch anything.”



He didn’t bother watching to see that his instructions were followed. Gutter trash may not have any bloodlines, but it can still follow orders with the best of them.



Kaiba’s own thoughts struck a sour chord. His long strides easily carried him down the hall in the opposite direction. He left his briefcase outside the door at the furthest end of the hallway before going in.



The room was labeled as storage, and technically, it was. Storage for sensitive information, anyway. The whole place was wired with cameras on every angle to prevent blind spots. And stored there, gathering information on rival companies 24/7 was a host of the most advanced computer software, outstripping the capabilities of any other technology on the market.



While the whole operation didn’t exactly fall under illegal, the practice was obviously not ethical in the least. So, best kept out of sight.



Out of sight, out of mind.



Kaiba snagged two data sticks, filled with information, on his way out. Lately the von Schroders had been a thorn in his side, and he planned to fully eradicate them soon. Possibly today, if the data sticks held any proof of the alleged corrupt dealings…



Briefcase back in hand, Kaiba walked sedately towards his office. The door was partly ajar. He tapped the bottom with his foot to make it swing open fully.



Standing in the middle of the room, staring at the floor was the other, waiting, not touching anything.



I wonder how long he can stay like that?



But while a contest of wills would be amusing, he had more important things to do.



“There are magazines in that desk, if you need to amuse yourself,” he remarked, settling in behind his own desk with his laptop. “Just keep quiet.”



A confused look flickered over the other male’s face, but then he shrugged and went to investigate. Kaiba heard the top of the storage desk creak and a puzzled sound emanated from the general vicinity.



“So odd what business men consider to be bribes, isn’t it?” he inquired conversationally, clicking away at his laptop. “Apparently I fit the stereotypical young male image – I’m loud, lazy, ruled by hormones, and addicted to porn.”



No reply to that. It was just a s well. He didn’t feel like listening to someone trying to make a list of vices into virtues.



His attention shifted entirely from the real world to his computer screen, little red flags raised by a few suspicious sounding emails.



Twenty minutes later, he’d discovered the makings of a minor scandal and a few cover-up attempts that could escalate it. Schroder Corp, you’re mine.



xxxxx



Fighting back a yawn, Kaiba stretched, flexing his hands in an attempt to release some of the tension built up in them. The little clock at the bottom of his laptop screen was disabled so it always read 00h. A quick glance at his watch showed it to be well beyond eight o’clock.



At least the data collection hadn’t turned out entirely void of good news.



Well, good news for Kaiba Corp, at least. Not so wonderful for the von Schroders or their lawless…affiliates.



He smirked, closing the laptop. Maybe he’d stayed at the building a little longer than intended, but what was a scrap of time weighted against a mine of misfortune?



Scandals, heaped on misdirection, mixed with lawbreakers and generous amounts of money. Such a pretty picture…a highway to the Schroder’s downfall, lined with the corpses of broken oaths and false truth.



The laptop closing startled the sleeper on the rug into wakefulness. Kaiba transferred his smirk from his laptop to his cur. A mangy, scrappy, difficult dog of a human to understand.



But quite a long time ago, he had learned that one didn’t need to understand, respect or even like another to gain physical pleasure from their touch.



I’d planned on doing this at home before kicking him out, but I don’t feel like waiting.



Maybe his hungry gaze betrayed his intention. The moment the dog realized he was looking at him, the crazy thing tried to appear insignificant – invisible.



Impossible.



Kaiba had come out from around his desk, and was loosening his tie, even as he kicked off shoes that served no purpose. Leering, cold-edged look fixed on the living means to satisfying carnal desire, he stepped closer to that cowering ball of fluff on the rug.



One command and one reason for existence only.



“Strip.”



To be availed by skin the same hue as his own, bled white, bleached by surrounding color… He shed his tie, dropped it on the floor. Drifted out of his shirt, leaving it behind as a trail marker to find his way back when he was through. Unhooked the belt and let it slither to the ground. Abandoned pants, leaving them to be rediscovered at some later date.



Stood thinking, a thin curtain of black silk separating him from the world. That, and a pair of socks, but nothing else.



Watched the close expression on the dog’s face melt across the spectrum before settling on dejected acceptance.



Dragged the offending bare body close, close enough to feel the staccato pulse, hear the breathing much too shallow, feel an unnatural trembling.



Rejected the final barrier of clothing and took the pleasure from breathing, from being. Claimed the insignificant dog as he had meant to, and when he was through, calmly traced the road back, reassembling the discarded pieces to once again for Kaiba Seto, the untouchable ice prince.



’You need not like them to want them. You need not adore to garner pleasure from. You need not love to use.’



What else were you right about, Gozaburo?



xxxxx



The ride back to the mansion was silent. The mongrel cur lay curled up in one corner, the light sound of breathing and occasional whimpers the only indication he was alive.



Kaiba watched him, the corners of his lips twisted upwards in a smirk that held through every jarring of uneven pavement. Through every tiny jerk of the dog’s abused body.



And then they were home.



I wanted to get rid of him tonight…



Another night of trying to explain away why he bothered keeping another life around him.



“Nii-sama!” As he dragged himself out of the limo, heavy with cruelty and malice, the golden voice of his angel penetrated the dense fog he was lost in.



“Nii-sama!” Mokuba, running flat out, catching him up in a hug, smiling in his pure, innocent naivety.



How could he help but kneel before his younger brother, smile and cradle the gift of heaven in his arms?



“What is it, kiddo?” Low voice, soft and gentle.



A bright, sparkling countenance as his only answer. And a light tug on his arm, the insistence of a silent “Come on!” whispered by actions into a slowly darkening night.



Kaiba let his brother lead him, leaving behind his shell in the driveway, an empty thing – a mask of anger and attention. Now he held neither, simply existing on the whims of his better self – the soul created to make up for his faults.



His feet carried him, dancing to the tune his own pied piper played. Following the course Mokuba set, through the dead mansion, up to the living second floor to stop, tangled in each other, too close for words.



Mokuba’s hair brushed against his face, for once again he was on his knees. Slate eyes that knew too much watched him, their quiet belief enough to shatter any stone remaining.



“Welcome home, Nii-sama,” Mokuba breathed.



Perfect angel, perfect demon. Bled together you’re perfect human.



Something that happened every night he came home. But tonight, he felt the cur slinking past the door and paused, empty eyes waiting to fill with the most dangerous drug of all – emotion.



Then the intruding presence was gone and he became simply Seto, held close in the arms of an angel, “Nii-sama, Nii-sama,” echoing in the stillness around them.



Until “I’m here, I’m here,” became the mantra to replace their names. A binding between shattered souls. One torn asunder and one passed off as whole.



Until the evening swallowed both of them and delivered them into pure nothingness.







__________________________



Author’s Notes:

I’m thinking I may need to put N/C in as a warning…. For anyone who didn’t pick up on the ref, Jou’s with Kaiba. For now anyway, and he isn’t really “with” Kaiba so much as…near him.

No one can argue that Kaiba’s got an addictive personality. Either he’s addicted to work, he’s addicted to defeating someone or addicted to taking care of Mokie. Obsessive.

That MUST come across in my opinion. Kaiba isn’t anything if his obsessions are removed. Without his capability to be twisted up inside himself, Kaiba Seto may as well not exist at all.

While this might have an incestuous feel to it, I can assure you it was NOT meant that way. Mokie is to Kaiba as Yuugi is to Yami, with consideration to their souls. (Vessel for eternity type thing?)

Anyway, the Kaiba bros are actually one person, mistakenly torn apart upon rebirth. Due to the current condition of Kaiba’s soul, he’s not rational when it comes to Mokuba. But don’t be alarmed. Nothing will come of it.