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Joey hissed as a small antiseptic towelette wiped across his scrapped up palms, wicking away blood and dirt. Both were displayed and examined by Kaiba, assessed with a pinpoint accuracy. Once one towelette was used, it was tossed away into a pile of other disposables and medical supplies.
When Joey had walked into the office, he hadn’t said a word to Kaiba, just dropped his bag onto one of the couches and sat there, waiting to be seen.
The look of surprise on Kaiba’s face, once his head raised, had been one in a million. Struck in the same wide-eyed gaze that was often brought about by when Mokuba’s safety was threatened.
“What happened to you?”
“Nuffin’,” Joey’s swell-thickened voice said.
Kaiba closed his laptop and stepped around the desk. He leaned his body to look as Joey lowered his head, using his too long bangs blocking out as much as of the damage as possible.
“Who did you fight?”
Joey grimaced at the quick question. Cored deep, twisted down to the bare-bones in a way that only Kaiba managed. Not ‘what caused this’ or ‘were you in an accident’ or even ‘did you get into a fight?’. Just ‘who did you fight’. Stricken with blame and the barest hint of concern.
“No one,” Joey said, head raised. Kaiba was on top of him by then, his hand out and gripping Joey’s chin. His head was turned one way and then the other, assessing the bruises and scuffs. A thumbnail scratched into the dried blood on his chin before it tore away.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I ain’t lyin’,” said Joey. “Really, it wadn’t anyone. No one a’ knew.”
Kaiba’s expression became unreadable, though his fists clenched at his sides. What Joey wouldn’t give to see the thoughts glimmer across Kaiba’s eyes. He turned on a heel and opened his office doors, speaking words unheard to his secretary. After, he came back in and passed by Joey, going to a cabinet and pulling out a glass and crystal decanter. Amber liquid was poured in, the decanter recapped, and Kaiba walked back over, putting the glass under Joey’s nose. Whatever it was, it was strong enough to give him a buzz at a whiff.
“Whazzis for?”
“For when I reset your nose,” Kaiba said. Oh, yeah, that.
“Thanks,” Joey said. He winched as soon as the liquor touched his lips. It burned, especially against raw gums, but he drank all of it. He wasn’t going to let good whiskey go, not when Kaiba was offering it.
The door reopened, the secretary coming through with a small box on a tray from the cafeteria. She sat it on Kaiba’s desk and left.
“If’t helps, I won.”
Kaiba said nothing. He donned a pair of latex gloves and motioned Joey over to the chair opposite his desk. Joey obliged. Kaiba’s office chair was pulled over, the men sitting knee to knee, and Kaiba went to work.
At first, Joey tried to pull Kaiba’s hands away, offering to do it himself. There was no sense in being an inconvenience. That only earned him the scrub against his dirty hands. It was abrasive, harsh, and his entire body clenched the longer it went on.
Once his hands were finished, sprayed down with an acrid smelling antibacterial (and the sore knuckles slapped when he tried to wipe it off on his knees), Kaiba moved up, washing away any of the blood that had dripped onto Joey’s neck from his nose. There, he began to feel a little more relaxed, less invasive.
“I dint mean t’.”
“I see.”
“Shit ‘appens, ya know?” Another towelette was tossed down. A fresh pack was ripped open. “‘Cause me’n ‘im...well, said’e knew me. Went t’ school an’ may’ve been one ‘a them guys that use t’ roll with and—“
“Stop talking.”
Joey’s mouth closed tight, the towelette brushing into his bruised cheeks, cleaning any mess from his brows, around his eyes. The alcohol swam inside him, his cheeks burning warm. His bangs were pushed out of his eyes by way of Kaiba’s wrist as he began to apply small bandages over a gash on his forehead. Skin on skin, the cool touch of an arm was nice against the warmed brow. Sitting so close, seeing Kaiba’s eyes look so fiercely towards him, made Joey see the inward flecks of rage that he could feel in the abrasive strokes. The way that Kaiba eyed him with in a hungry and passionate way, though it wasn’t directed towards him. Just as the thorough cleaning wasn’t meant to hurt him.
“Ya mad?” Joey asked.
“I said stop talking.”
“Right, sorry.”
Joey was handed a Kleenex, which placed under his nose and blown into with grimace, almost jumping out of his seat. It was tossed towards the disposables, but he didn’t check to see if it landed. Kaiba’s hands were against his face, fingers lined up with his nose. He was given no warning when Kaiba pressed his fingers down on the wounded organ, shifting it around as it made a resound ‘pop’ that trembled down to Joey’s feet. His eyes filled with tears.
“Shit, man. Give a guy a fuckin’ second t’ be ready fer that shit...”
Kaiba’s hands cupped the sides of Joey’s face, fingertips brushing blond hairs behind Joey’s ears. Thumbs stroked across the swollen cheeks.
“Who did you fight?” Kaiba asked.
“I dunno.”
“Joseph, who did you fight?”
Joey’s eyes flicked up, and his hand settled on Kaiba’s wrists where they held on with a soft grace. “It don matta, Kaib’.”
“Yes, it does. Who hurt you?”
Those softened words, lacking their accusations and anger. It made Joey unsure of how to react. Kaiba was so much easier to deal with angry; it was so normal. It made more sense than his gruff but caring undertone. “I dunno. ‘Appened a few blocks ‘way. Walkin’ here.”
The thumbs curled in, and Kaiba’s head bowed as it neared Joey’s, his bangs mixing with the blond’s. “I’m going to kill him,” Kaiba said.
“Yer crazy.”
“No, I’m perfectly sane. He hurt you; I don’t allow anyone to hurt what’s mine,” Kaiba said. His hands started to lift from Joey’s face, leaving a thin layer of latex dust, though Joey clamped his hands back down.
“No, don leave.”
“Joseph, don’t test me here—“
“Ya really mean it?”
“I do. I’m going to kill him.”
Kaiba reclaimed his hands when Joey let him go, and his coat was taken from the back of the chair, thrown over his shoulders. Joey shook his head, mucus sloshing and making his eyes swim. “Not that. The uh...the ‘mine’ thing. Ya mean that?”
“I thought that was obvious.”
Joey leaned back in the chair, itching at a bandage over his brow. “Yeah, uh,” he laughed to himself, cheeks growing warmer than before, “sure. Obvious. Jus’ ya ain’t ever said nothin’ like that before.”
When he looked back up at Kaiba, who was flattening out the lapels of his coat, he caught the a look of pride in the trademark smirk. “I didn’t figure I’d have to. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
Joey was so caught up in the meaning of the words, in the feeling of Kaiba caressing his cheeks and stroke back his hair, that he didn’t notice the executive stepping out of his office with clear intent in his step.
Joey had to bolt up and chase Kaiba out the door before murder was actually committed.