Chapter Text
Katsuya knows better than to be distracted while working; surely, the injury that healed is still a lesson-learned for him. And yet, he couldn't keep his eyes off Kaiba when he arrived at the building. The heat had already made Katsuya sweat, what more now that the guy he just kissed yesterday strolls along in an almost see-through powder blue shirt. Kaiba’s eyes reciprocate Katsuya’s desire, no matter how much he represses it as he does his signing, striding, or whatever.
Rather slowly, the hours pass by. Katsuya wishes he could admit that he didn’t think of what awaits him at the end of the day, but with every wire he connects, and every wooden or concrete surface he shuts close, his mind drifts to that exciting place where no shame can preside over his need for Kaiba now. He just wants him now. The whirring of gears and the sizzling of electricity was nowhere near as loud as his thoughts.
Thankfully, it was 5pm. He surrenders his tools and welding shield at the makeshift tent at one side of the building, before searching for his tall… friend. Katsuya couldn’t call him a friend before, but now he feels ‘friend’s a little more appropriate, especially if he slides a ‘with benefits’ after it.
There was a whole clarity regarding Kaiba’s rejection of his soulmate, but apart from that, what are they really?
The way Kaiba feels about their current unlabelled situation is unfamiliar territory and surely, Katsuya doesn’t want to complicate things.
“You look like a lost bunny,” Seto tells him when the blond man finally spots him next to the back gate of Kaiba land.
“Bunny, huh? Guess you’re retiring the whole ‘mutt’ bit.”
“You know, I am.” Seto motions him to the black limousine and they both see Isono doing his best to not connect the dots between the two of them. “Plus, I think bunnies are much more endearing. Dogs, a little on the messy side.”
Katsuya opens the door, rolling his eyes that Kaiba won’t open it for him. To which, Kaiba gives a teasing smirk. “How mean. I happen to be a dog-lover.”
“Good way to say you entertain yourself so much,” Kaiba teased, eyeing Katsuya’s thighs in a way that was quick and subtle.
Katsuya knows what he said was an innuendo, so he decides to worm his way to the top. “Maybe it’s your turn later then.”
Kaiba was biting his lip from laughing—both of them know what’s to come and the excitement is spilling. He motions ‘shhh’ as he glances between Katsuya and at a poor Isono. “Later, alright?” he tells Katsuya, while running his index finger down the blond’s adams apple. The two of them shared small chit chat whilst hiding how impatient they were getting. Thank heavens, traffic in the metro wasn’t ever severe. They arrive at the penthouse not more than twenty minutes later.
The smell of freshly cut grass stirs in the air as the two of them make their way to the glass entrance. The two of them remove their shoes on the way in. Katsuya takes one look at the marble flooring that led to multiple levels on the same breathy living room and sighs. He’s never slept on any floor, or couch, or kitchen top that could never have been crawled on by mice. Sun rays stream freely inside, creating angular streaks on the walls that were decorated with geometric paintings. Katsuya laughs, “I’m surprised a Blue Eyes White Dragon painting isn’t the first thing I see.”
“Oh, those—are in my room.”
“Seriously?”
“Kidding.” Kaiba’s mouth is turned upward, pleased with himself. Without the gazes of lofty stockholders or chatty servants, Kaiba permits himself to lay his guard down. How much of it was still up, Katsuya didn’t want to know just yet. He points to a refrigerator and gestures Katsuya to sit on one of the island stools. “Stay here, I’ll be with you in a minute. Get some water if you want.”
Katsuya nods, watching Kaiba walk away to the hallway across the kitchen. His eyes trail Kaiba’s back, but he tries to suppress his thoughts for now. Keep yourself together! You’re so impatient, dang it!
On the kitchen island, Katsuya fidgets with a bamboo ashtray. Questions pour in with every item he sees or momentarily interacts with. Does Kaiba smoke? Does he use these cat chopsticks or are these Mokuba’s? Where the heck is Mokuba? Hopefully not here.
“I’m back.” Kaiba announces and Katsuya turns to look at him. The man changed his shirt into a soft gray sweater that may or may not be smelling like mint. Katsuya is dying to know, but stops himself, even from forming an excited grin.
It’s different, awfully different, from when they first met each other.
In a stuffy classroom one day in Junior High, Katsuya could care less as their teacher introduced the new guy. With Kaiba’s jacket buttoned all the way up and his hair gelled smack onto his face, Katsuya knew they wouldn’t get along. First impressions count and Katsuya’s first one of Kaiba was that he was wearing white speckled undies under that stoic look. He remembers sitting in the second row where he passed a letter behind to Yugi, saying he’s sad because he probably can’t copy the new guy’s test answers. Yugi, despite not tolerating Katsuya’s class behavior, laughs at the note.
Katsuya always stole a glance at Kaiba, who was deadpan-staring towards the blackboard. Katsuya pokes him once, before recess, wondering if the boy had made friends at all. But the brown-haired boy didn’t even dare look at him.
Which is why it’s wildly, gracefully jarring right now as he looks at Kaiba’s eyes only for them to be staring right back at him. Kaiba’s fingers dance once more on his cheek before they tip his chin upwards. Katsuya’s lips parted as Kaiba kissed him softly. Kaiba’s tongue was hot in his mouth as Katsuya pulled him closer. It came out of nowhere—the need for him to bite on Kaiba’s bottom lip. But the act was welcomed, much so that Kaiba growls against his lips and dug his fingers in his blond locks.
Everything is pure bliss and every now and then, when his eyes flutter open, he sees Kaiba’s eyebrows knitted together, as if desperate to know what else can become of them, if they continue to be this hazy, lust-filled mess.
“Mm, stop first,” Kaiba muttered in between wet kisses.
“What’s wrong?”
Kaiba brushed Katsuya’s hair back, giving himself a good view of Katsuya’s desperation to be held. “Don’t you want a tour of the house?”
Katsuya scoffs, thinking ‘that’s not what I want a tour of.’ But he knows Kaiba’s tactics, pulling away before diving in. So, he says, “sure.”
With every part of the rooms Kaiba points to, Katsuya can imagine a silhouette of them kissing—fucking—and he chides himself not to, but his brain gets the better of him. Katsuya tries to listen intently as Kaiba mentions the piano lessons he didn’t truly commit to as a child, but memorized a few songs anyway. The two of them press softly on the keys, creating disjointed melodies. Kaiba moves on to point at the pool outside the glass doors. Katsuya accidentally visualizes another heated interaction between them in the pool, but moves on.
“You’re the first person I’ve ever shown all this to.”
“What are you talking about, you’ve definitely shown this to Mokuba,” Katsuya jokes.
“Ha-ha, how hilarious.” Kaiba teases back, but a genuine smile paints his face. The two of them stood there, letting their consciousness mingle between the thought of being together and the wispy clouds up above the dark sky. To be in many places at once—by this glass window, under this night sky, beside Kaiba—is something he took advantage of before. This grants him a familiar experience. Deja vu, really.
Battle City Tournament. The night of Kaiba’s win against a woman named Ishizu. She spouted some destiny mumbo jumbo to him and lost immensely, right when Katsuya thought he’d see Kaiba lose to someone other than Yugi. No, Kaiba’s a lot better than that. After the duel, Katsuya and Honda took advantage of the American snacks stacked in the fridge. Anzu scolded them for stuffing their faces with twinkies and pringles, but not often do they encounter unsatisfying yet addictive food like these.
Katsuya, after patting Honda’s root-beer filled belly, excused himself to the common room. He was expecting Yugi and Duke playing a short game of Dueling Monsters, but what he got was a brooding Kaiba, silent as he stared beneath down through the circular windows of the blimp. Katsuya felt like he was stepping in a room full of nails; that’s what it was like being in the same vicinity as the boy with magnetic eyes that could seep you in and leave you pressed.
“What are you doing here?” Katsuya said in a hush tone. “Come to taunt Yugi before your match tomorrow?”
Instead of biting back, Kaiba’s eyebrows merely shifted into a frown, as he continued to stare at Domino City from way up here. Fate was trying to get ahold of him, but he resisted. None of Ishizu’s words resonated with Katsuya. But now they’re catching up to him. Maybe fate wasn’t just Kaiba’s enemy; it’s something they have in common.
Katsuya busied himself with trying to search for his backpack, but his eyes glanced at Kaiba, whose forehead is almost pressed against the window that appeared to have fog from his parted lips. Focused as he was, Katsuya’s presence probably meant nothing right then, though it usually is. After a few seconds, Kaiba backed away from the circular window and saw to it that his walk past Katsuya didn’t end in a fight. He had no room for fights anymore. At least, for that night.
Katsuya, with a speeding heart, brings himself back to the present as Kaiba leans his hand on the glass door of the penthouse. They look eye to eye now. Kaiba’s jaws have widened from their youth, his eyes a little tired, but less volatile. He’s really not the same guy, really not the same. Katsuya’s heart aches to be opened, to know what it truly is to forgive and to let inhibitions go and… just dive in. “We were so stupid.”
The taller man chuckled, “So, I guess I’m not the only one thinking of the past.”
“How can I not think of it, Kaiba—”
“—Seto.”
The two of them pause; Kaiba, because he’s surprised he even offered. Maybe it’s instinctual now that he wants Katsuya to be closer to him. Katsuya, because his earlier assumption of Kaiba changing has been confirmed. “Seto,” Katsuya says and lets the feeling on his lips linger. Kaiba looks at him, expectantly. “Call me Katsuya then.”
“My pleasure, Katsuya.” Kaiba traces his fingers on Katsuya’s cheek, before speaking once more: “You were saying? About our past?”
“Well, I remember you scoffing every time I walk past you. Like a garden sprinkler set on three.”
Kaiba laughed. “And I remembered you trying to look at my test answers for trigonometry.”
“Yeah, right! That never happened.” He knows it’s futile—also because it’s true, but Kaiba’s laughter is addictive. “At least not more than once.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Kaiba sat back on the piano’s bench, unable to look straight at Katsuya.
What was the secret? Did Kaiba copy his answers? To be honest, Kaiba only took a few seconds to answer, but Katsuya never liked suspense.
“I really thought you and Honda were dating at one point.”
The laugh that squeaked out Katsuya’s lips was loud and obnoxious, but my god, Kaiba really thought that! “We never did! He’s really just a good, best friend of mine. Is it the skinship? Because if so, Honda is… a bit handsy, don’t take it against him!”
“I won’t,” he said, but Katsuya could tell he’s deep in thought.
“Seto? You know you always scare me when you’re thinking too hard.”
Kaiba teases, “you don’t scare me then.” The light-heartedness dies down though, but Kaiba’s quick to shrug it off. “Why don’t we move somewhere more comfortable?”
The change of topic was jarring, but welcomed anyway. If it was uncomfortable for Kaiba, Katsuya would prefer to leave it behind; he was thoughtful, like that. Or so he believed. It frightened him, the idea of reminiscing happily only to be dragged down by a past demon. Honda was never Katsuya’s demon, but what does it all mean to Kaiba?
Their feet saunter through the carpeted floorings, until they reach the hallway. A phallic marble statue appears at his peripheral vision; he denies that it turned him on.
“We’re here,” Kaiba turns a small knob, only to reveal that the lights were warm and their luminescence can be controlled with a snap of his finger. He’s in control and that made everything better. The room had a lower-hanging ceiling with minimal lights. There were no computers or large gadgets of any kind in here, a stark contrast to what Katsuya expected, but Kaiba must like it quiet. The drapes were dark gray, almost black, if it weren’t for the tell-tale signs of the lamp posts outside.
Katsuya, after admiring the room, finally looks at Kaiba. “Is this the part where you stop interrupting when I kiss you?”
As an answer, Kaiba kisses him, starting with small pecks trailing from his neck, to his chin, to his lips. Katsuya’s fingers dig into Kaiba’s sweater, feeling his muscles under the piece of clothing. Katsuya needs him, needs an outlet for all this fascination. He feels it all tangled up in his chest—this excitement, this frustration. And it’s all because of Kaiba, who’s dragging him towards the bed.
The cushion is soft, for sure, as is the way Kaiba looks at him. If he’d known all these years that they’d end up like this, fingers intertwined, bodies clashing, Katsuya would’ve chosen a head start and flirted with Kaiba as early as that day. That day; oh, he wishes he can go back, but that thought fizzles out as Kaiba pushes him back on the bed.
“What’s my name?” Kaiba whispered into his ear, before biting the lobe.
Katsuya giggled, before saying through his clenched teeth: “Seto.”
Their lips meet once more, this time parted. Kaiba’s tongue was hot and wet in Katsuya’s mouth. Katsuya can feel the mix of his and Kaiba’s saliva trailing down his chin. ‘Messy,’ he thinks. But he likes messy. And by the looks of it, Kaiba likes it too, grinding his hips slowly against Katsuya’s and clutching his shirt tightly. Katsuya’s hand met Kaiba’s and guided it under the blond’s shirt. Kaiba responded by raking his nails softly on Katsuya’s torso; he gasped and Kaiba took that as a chance to dip his tongue deeper. The scent of mint fills his lungs as Kaiba stops for the meantime.
Katsuya looks up, wondering in a daze why Kaiba stopped. The other boy stopped himself from laughing at Katsuya’s incoherence.
“You really want more?” Kaiba asked him, his eyes scanning his bedside table.
“You’re not so subtle, Mr. Seto,” Katsuya teased. “I do.”
Kaiba’s eyes shifted to the table, to Katsuya, and to an unknown place of hesitancy. It seems like trouble, so Katsuya tries to sit up right despite his hazy situation. Again, Seto interrupts the inevitable. But Katsuya catches himself with the word ‘inevitable.’ He silences his mind.
“What’s wrong?”
Kaiba picks another point in the room to stare at, instead of Katsuya. “I have to be honest to you.”
Leaning in, Katsuya takes his hand, but Kaiba pulls away. Now, Katsuya knows something’s wrong.
Breathing in and exhaling, Kaiba finally answers, “I’m not exactly ready for whatever this is.”
Whatever? Katsuya takes note of the word and flings it around his mind. Whatever. The word connotes the action of shrugging and a sweltering need to dismiss what’s in front of you. Just minutes ago, Katsuya thought they both threw caution to the wind, but now, their wings are cut.
“I don’t mean to complicate things.”
Then what’s so complicated? But Katsuya’s mind answers for himself: the issue of soulmates, the issue of breaking up and being at odds with each other like before, the issue of not even having a label for themselves. “Hold on, can’t we just pick at it one by one? What are you scared of?” Katsuya asks, as if Kaiba will arrive at a conclusion farther from his.
Kaiba turns away, adjusting his collar and coughing to fill the silence. “There’s so much that I feel for you, but I’m in no place to dictate what happens next.” There was nothing to derive from what he said and Kaiba knows Katsuya’s looking for a direct contention. “Don’t you think we’re destined, as well?”
The moment Kaiba said that, it left Katsuya thinking and boy, does he hate being flooded with so many memories at once. That day in the warm classroom where they met, abhorring each other on site. Those days bumping into each other as rival duelists. Those days, in which a tiniest part of their soul, was longing to strike a fire—a fight—between each other for no other reason than it’s fun. And it’s something to look forward to. Katsuya pauses. Maybe there’s a part of him, that rainy evening, that was relieved to have seen a familiar face. Katsuya replies, “and if we are, would that be the worst thing?”
Kaiba shakes his head, “No.”
But there must be something.
“It’s not bad, but it’s, dare I say, frightening. Knowing it’ll be us, it’ll be you that’ll have to stick with me.”
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head, too focused on the random strays of fabric in his sweater. “Nothing.”
It was awful to know now that the silence was more comforting than what else Kaiba could say. Neither of them were in the proper space. Katsuya thought it’d be easy to throw it all out the window—’it’ being their past. But clearly, he needs time for his own head. “I should go, then. Today’s not a good time, I—” and yet, he couldn’t escape from the confusion “—I frickin’ understand.”
Kaiba stands up, “I’m not trying to start a fight.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“I’m just… telling you. We’re not decided yet.”
“What is there to decide about?” Katsuya comes roaring out, knowing he should probably stop talking to preserve what little dignity the situation had, but he just can’t. “I’m attracted to you and I hope it’s the same for you. We’re not soulmates or anything. I’m sorry for our past, but what does that have to do with what we have now?”
Kaiba’s dumbfounded. He just stares at the floor, unable to bite back.Katsuya opts to leave until, “I’ve never been in love,” Kaiba blurted out.
“What?” Katsuya asked, genuinely, though he had a feeling all along. At the same time, another question pops in his mind: does he think this is love?
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to assume that it’s what you feel too. God, I—I don’t even know if that’s what I feel. I just wanted to tell you, to not leave you hanging dry with where I am.”
Spirals filled Katsuya’s mind, along with never-ending questions and memories. “I’m sorry, too. I have to go. I’m not mad, I promise. I just—”
“Need time?”
Katsuya nods. He’s not feeling a particular emotion, but maybe he just lost a bit of hope. They can never truly move on and it’s just too bad. Katsuya hurries out the penthouse and dials the only number he can think of right now.
“Hey, I need a place to go. Is the shop open?”