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Téa attempts to slap Joey's thieving hand away from the bowl, but it is already far, far too late. Giggling as best he can through a mouthful of deliciously salty popcorn, Joey careens through the wide, panelled halls of Kaiba mansion on his crutches, swinging his way towards the TV room with the shouts of his irate friend warming his heels.
"Don't think I won't break your other leg, Wheeler!" she yells after him. "I will fight a wounded man!"
Joey automatically goes to shout back, but when a popcorn kernel falls out of his mouth he thinks better of it. He's won this battle, better to enjoy the spoils of victory in dignified, munching silence than gloat. Téa is always so insistent on not touching snacks until they start the film, but really, they always vanish in seconds anyway. And yes, they're mostly vanishing into Joey's own mouth, but hey, he's a growing guy. He gets hungry. Plus he needed to get that gross painkiller taste out of his mouth.
When he swings into the room after a brief collision with the closed door, Joey jolts in shock, yelps in surprise, and immediately starts choking in punishment for his hubris. Heat rising in his cheeks as the assembled audience watches him suffer with varying degrees of amusement but no real sympathy (assholes), he is saved by the slam of Téa's fist into his back, corn kernel flying from his gullet but unfortunately not across the room to hit the cause of his suffering in the face.
"Serves you right," Téa declares as Joey coughs, her and Yugi putting the world’s two biggest bowls of popcorn on the coffee table, where they join an assortment of tooth-rotting delicacies and what remains of a sizable order of pizzas. Or is the plural just pizza? Joey can never remember. There's a large lemon cake too, which Yugi baked on a whim. Bit weird, since Joey knows Yugi doesn't like sour things, but maybe he just wanted to try making something different.
It's a full house tonight, everyone who's staying over already in their pajamas: Tristan sits in the armchair, and Duke sits on Tristan, looking entirely too pleased with themself; Yugi and Téa plop themselves down with Ryou in the beanbag collection that takes up a large portion of the floor, lazily sprawling like cats, surrounded by pizza boxes. Beanbags are plentiful in the Kaiba household. Mokuba claims they're easier for him to sneak into the house without permission than couches and chairs, but they all know it's just an excuse. As if Kaiba has ever said no to him.
Mokuba and Serenity have their own nest directly in front of the enormous TV. Always conspiring together, those two. Joey half expects to catch them cackling while stirring a bubbling green brew in a cauldron at some point. What he does not expect is the single person occupying the couch, despite Mokuba having already said multiple times that his brother might make a special appearance tonight.
Trying not to wobble too much, Joey jabs one of his crutches out in an accusative point. "What are you doing here?" he greets, popcorn remnants spraying from his mouth.
Raising a single eyebrow at the crutch being leveled at him, the end a mere inch from his face, Kaiba does not seem particularly impressed. Not that he ever does, despite Joey’s efforts.
"I live here," Kaiba points out.
This is true, but does not clarify anything in Joey’s humble opinion. They've had movie and sleepover nights at the Kaiba mansion, hosted by the smaller and infinitely more likable Kaiba, for months and the older one has never made appearances beyond a quick greeting and occasional checks on his brother. But here he is, long legs neatly crossed over each other at one end of the couch like he owns the fucking place.
Which he does, technically, but still. It's Kaiba. And he's taken a slice of lemon cake and is eating it off a little plate with a weird mini-fork. His pinky finger is sticking out. Joey doesn't have to be reasonable about it.
"...So?"
"So I don't have to explain myself, especially not to a moron like you," Kaiba says, nudging the makeshift weapon leveled at him aside with an index finger. He scans Joey up and down like one of those x-ray thingys that he’s always made to stand in at the airport, making him suddenly very aware of his ratty shirt and awkward legs sticking out from his pajama shorts. Kaiba's eyes stay a little longer on the scribble-covered cast. "I heard you had some… incident."
Lowering the crutch, Joey shuffles in place as best he can. "Yeah," he says uncomfortably. "Some dickhead in a Dodge."
At least, that is what Joey has decided to tell everyone. Somehow, he has the feeling that if he tells people the truth--that he'd gotten freaked out by a spider, tripped over his own shoelace, and fallen down the stairs of his flat building--he'll never live it down. Hadn't even been a real spider, his neighbours had just put out Halloween decorations. Joey had caught a glimpse of big, fuzzy, and completely fake out of the corner of his eye, and woosh, down he'd gone. The doc who'd bandaged him up had had a good laugh while Joey had sat there fuming. Thank God someone in finances had fucked up and Joey hadn't had to pay anything. When he'd received the email saying his insurance provider had paid the bill in full, he'd scrambled to call the hospital to confirm and had cried when they did. As if Joey has insurance.
Miracles really do happen. At least someone out there is looking out for him.
Kaiba's eyes slide back up to his face in a slow rotation, like one of those spooky paintings that watches people. Joey can almost hear the swivel. "...Then you were lucky. Perhaps the mutt has learned not to chase after cars now, hm?"
"Hey, I may be on crutches, but I can still kick your scrawny ass," Joey retorts, but the asshole is already turning away to focus on the screen and finish his cake. The screen which does not yet have anything playing on it. Joey is not fooled, and glares as Kaiba delicately places that final bite of lemon sponge in his mouth, tongue briefly licking the fork clean.
The crutches prevent Joey from actually folding his arms as he watches Kaiba's jawline work through narrowed eyes. What is he even doing here? Did he turn up just to make a dog joke? Probably. Bastard. Why isn't he leaving? Why do none of the others care? And what the fuck is he wearing, anyway, since when did Kaiba wear sweatpants? Who wore a skin tight turtleneck with sweatpants? It looks stupid, clinging to his wirey frame like that, showing off the smooth planes of his silhouette before being neatly tucked into a pair of baggy pants. Like, pick a look, dumbass. Ridiculous. Joey can see every slow breath he takes as his chest rises and falls, can just about make out the jut of his collarbone through the fabric. Absurd. Does Kaiba wear a turtleneck to bed? And what kind of socks are those? Grandpa socks, that's wh-
“You okay, Joey?” Yugi blinks up at him from his burrow, head upside down, body practically vanished in a blanket heap. “You should sit down.”
Jolting out of his Kaiba-induced reverie of disdain, Joey realises he's been standing there like an idiot for far too long and casts about for a place to sit, but immediately encounters a Kaiba-induced problem. Kind of. Usually Joey joins the beanbag sprawl, because Mokuba got fluffy ones a while ago and it's like curling up in a cloud, but with the broken leg the floor is a no-go. The best option for him would be the couch, which has the most room for stretching out, but, Kaiba is already sitting there, looking like he's actually going to stick around, like Joey's broken leg is some kind of weird magnet that turns him into a social butterfly. Opposites attract, Joey guesses. They learned that in elementary school. Kaiba's legs don't look broken, unless you count being far too long as a sign of malfunction. Which Joey does.
Joey could just sit at the other end, but the idea of spending an entire film at opposite ends of a couch with Kaiba, like they'll be arrested if they touch or some shit, is so overwhelmingly dumb that there's really only one thing for it.
It's like Joey always says: if you can’t beat ‘em, annoy the shit out of ‘em.
Straightening his back to stand as tall and proud as he can (5’7”--a perfectly respectable, perfectly average height, thank you very much), Joey swings over, levers himself down right next to Kaiba, and props his bandaged leg up on Kaiba’s folded ones. He has to sit right up to him, and it's weird to feel the unfamiliar body against his own, Kaiba's sweatpants soft against his bare skin, but worth it for the way Kaiba’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open just a little.
“Doc said I should keep it raised,” Joey says smartly, folding his arms in front of him and attempting to maintain a straight face. “Blood flow and all that.”
"There is a coffee table right there," Kaiba responds in a hiss.
Joey loftily raises his eyebrows and a finger to educate his companion on his foolish suggestion. "Ah, but it's too far away, and has snacks on it. Unless you want my stinky feet near the food?" Food. Now that's a thought. "Hey, can someone throw me the gummies?" Joey yells to the room at large without taking his eyes off Kaiba's still stupefied expression, which shifts to a wince at the sudden loudness.
Sucking in his lower lip to stop himself from grinning, Joey enjoys the sight of Kaiba's comically widened eyes blinking at him. He just looks so… funny. Yes, that's the word. Up this close, Joey can see a little patch over his left pupil, a tiny island of brown in a sea of blue. And a speck of icing on his lip. Funny. He smells of… lavender? Must be his laundry detergent. Or maybe hair stuff. Joey wonders what he puts in it. It always looks so neat in a way that makes Joey want to put his hands in it, see if it’s soft.
A pack of candy hits Joey in the face and tears him away from his musing. "You're welcome," Duke says sweetly from where they leans at an improbable angle to reach the table without getting up.
Joey flips him off before ripping open the packet and shoveling chewy sweets into his mouth. He waggles the pack at Kaiba. "Want some?" he manages through a mouth stuffed with gummies.
To his surprise, Kaiba immediately reaches into the pack, knuckles brushing against Joey's fingertips as he retrieves a handful of sweets with a crackle of plastic--which with Kaiba's enormous hands is quite a lot. With dainty fingers, he plucks a single one from his palm and pops it into his mouth without a word. God, he's got spindly fingers. Pianist hands.
"Greedy bastard," Joey mutters through his still full mouth. "So, did we decide what movie yet?" he asks the room at large.
They've been debating since the pizza arrived. Ryou and Mokuba want a spooky movie in honour of Halloween being in six days. Tristan and Serenity have the basic but respectable suggestion of something dumb as shit. Téa asks for something they haven't already seen. Duke doesn't get a say because they all remember the last time that they did and wish that they couldn't. Joey suggests action, because you can't really go wrong with explosions, and he doesn't want anything emotionally heavy when he's got Kaiba literally right next to him. He is not risking crying tonight, no sir.
Kaiba himself makes snide comments about everyone's suggestions but appears to have no interest in making his own, and Joey is hyper aware of him the entire time, legs occasionally shifting under his own and dragging soft fabric against his skin, elbow jutting into his side. Bony bastard. His shoulder is probably majorly uncomfortable as a pillow, which is a shame, because Joey's a little tired.
It's Yugi who brings up The Mummy. "I know we watched them last year, but we haven't seen the reboot," he says. "The Tom Cruise one."
There's a moment of silence as everyone feels the absence of the elephant in the room, but then-
"Tom Cruise, you say," Tristan says with mock intrigue, breaking the Pharaonic ice and giving Joey a look which is really a look.
It relaxes everyone, but it also makes Joey feel the need to defend himself, preferably by hitting Tristan. Unfortunately, he's too far away. "Look, he's a very competent actor! He does his own stunts!" he argues instead with a glare.
"No one said anything, Joey," says Téa at the same time Tristan says, "Yeah, he's also built like a tiny brick shithouse," and Kaiba, ever the most devastating with his words, simply says, disgusted, "Him?"
Ryou researches the film on his phone. "It fits all our criteria," he announces.
"Yeah, but Joey's a huge wuss," his sister betrays him through a mouthful of chips. "He spent the other ones clutching Tristan as a teddy bear, remember? Might be too scary.”
Well, that's one way to put it. They'd watched the original trilogy in a marathon at Ryou's place to see if it could jog Yami's memory. It hadn't, but nevertheless the amnesiac Pharaoh had spent the entire time entranced while Ryou explained to him that it wasn't a particularly historically accurate film. It had been mildly reassuring, but couldn’t quite counter the solidity of seeing a bunch of shambling, rag-wrapped corpses climbing out of the ground. And then there were the beetles. Oh God, the beetles. Joey had had nightmares for weeks.
Kaiba snorts.
Oh no he did not.
"I can handle it! I’m no wuss!" Joey declares confidently, calmly, and certainly not in an indignant whine. "Mummies haven't got nothin' on Joey Wheeler!"
As always, Mokuba demands a drumroll as he fiddles with the tablet that controls the TV to find the film, and a low pattering sound fills the air. People on the floor drum on the table, Tristan and Duke drum on each other, and Joey considers drumming on Kaiba, but decides he doesn't want his lifeless corpse to be discovered by the side of the road with purple bruising around the neck. Then he decides that actually, that would be a hell of a way to go, and happily beats Kaiba’s shoulder with his hands like he’s patting dough, the satisfying glare he receives more than making up for the fact that he will die in three days. Then Kaiba starts obligingly drumming on his uninjured knee.
There’s a mildly ominous humming filling the air, and after a second of lurching fear, Joey realises it’s just Ryou fucking with them. The screen beams on, breaking the crescendo, momentarily dazzling like a fog light through dust. The Universal fanfare blares triumphant in a way that, Joey has a sinking realisation, doesn't quite resonate with him. The room light is switched off, plunging them into a darkness only lit by the TV, and Kaiba's fingers briefly send tingles through Jounouchi's veins when they retract from his knee and brush along his thigh.
Unfortunately, with the movie starting, Duke already in hysterics from the opening logo, and Joey sitting side to side with someone who will no doubt rip him apart with zero hesitation if he shows weakness, there is no going back. He can't have Kaiba thinking he's a coward.
Besides, if Yugi can handle it, Joey can too.
Joey wriggles into the couch to try and get comfortable, which has the side effect of wriggling against Kaiba, Joey's thigh pressing down on his for balance.
“Must be my birthday,” Kaiba comments dryly.
“Shut up,” Joey says back. With their sides pressed against each other and thighs in a stack, Joey is surprised to find Kaiba warm to the touch. Logically it makes sense, but still. Warm. Joey still gets Yugi to pass him a blanket, which he throws over them both. Kaiba grunts in what is possibly his version of a thank you. So polite.
Images flash on screen--well, not flash exactly, this film is dingy as shit--and it doesn’t even take the full length of an expositional speech from Russell Crowe (“Javert? ” half the audience yells simultaneously) for Joey to grab Kaiba’s arm at the sight of a shambling, out-of-focus figure that’s on screen for ten entire seconds, which is actually a really long fucking time.
“Really,” Kaiba drawls. Joey can't see his expression very well in the dark, but Kaiba has always been good at vocalising his eye rolls.
Joey humphs, and retracts his hand. They’re only five minutes in. He needs to get a grip. Ryou with his expert and somewhat insider knowledge is already detailing the exact level of horseshit this all is.
Before long, Joey begins to settle into the transfixation that always escapes him when watching something alone. He can never concentrate on films by himself, always something tugging on the edges of his brain, dragging him to distraction. Having someone else around makes him feel settled, somehow, relaxed in the cocoon of warmth and dark and the sounds of his friends’ commentary on the terrible dialogue and even worse politics.
Well, relatively relaxed. Watching Jake Johnson ("Nick Miller?!" ) getting possessed and stab people isn't something Joey is really psychologically prepared to deal with, and he absentmindedly grabs the nearest person to him again. "Ten points," Kaiba says flatly as the plane nose-dives into the ground and the camera whites out. Joey snorts, and his fingers grip a little less tight in their new position. The fabric under his hand is soft and thin, and he's vaguely aware of the arm tensing, but his hand doesn't get removed and- holy shit Tom Cruise is naked in the morgue. Joey doesn't give it much--if any--thought when he sits up and starts smacking said arm excitedly. He also uses his other hand to throw the nearest available object at Tristan for his unneeded commentary at Joey's expense. It means bidding farewell to a couch cushion, but it serves a righteous cause.
If only Yami were still here, he would support Joey in these trying times. He'd enjoyed a good Tom Cruise action sequence too, even if he hadn't shared the desire to plant his face in his chest.
The film rolls on, and Joey becomes fully wrapped up in the action and the running commentary his friends provide. They groan, they laugh, they make their way through the popcorn and the cake, which is pretty damn decent. It's an odd mixture of melancholy, indignation, and amusement that settles over them at the barely Egyptian-glossed garbage. Even Kaiba starts snickering at one point, jostling Joey with the shaking laughter at something Joey doesn't actually get (what's so funny about the names Jekyll and Hyde?), but soon everyone else is positively screaming with laughter at Russell Crowe throwing Tom Cruise around while monologuing in a cockney accent, so he's not too miffed.
And at the numerous sights of thin limbed, bandaged, decayed figures, Joey flinches and yelps and instinctively hides his eyes in the nearest available object every time, fabric warm against his eyelids and nostrils filled with the smell of lavender until he chances another glance at the screen. He yawns a few times. It's warm under the blanket, and he hasn't been getting much sleep recently. Sleeping on his back is astonishingly hard.
As the heroes get swarmed by zombies in the tunnels beneath London, Joey is vaguely aware of Tristan asking Kaiba if he wants to swap places because "I'm used to him using me as a blanket," but he doesn't hear a reply, and is too busy hiding in a very bony shoulder to think much about it. Oh God, now they're all swimming in weirdly clear water. Shit. Now Joey has to deal with a lifetime thinking about zombies that swim, their grabby, clawing hands dragging him down. Fuuuuuuck. And the shoulder is uncomfortably bony actually, so Joey pulls the arm up and over his own shoulders, moving so that both his legs are flung over Kaiba's. He curls up as best he can, sideways on the couch with his head pillowed on a chest, arm wrapped around a waist for support. Much better.
"Joey?" he hears Yugi ask.
"'M not worried," Joey claims, the assurance muffled by the pectoral it's spoken into. "Tom Cruise can hold his breath underwater for six minutes."
There's a hand resting on the back of his head, calming through the haze of oh God swimming zombies. He spends the rest of the film nestled there, alternately looking out at the screen and hiding in the chest that rises and falls against him, a steady heartbeat thudding out a comforting, if slightly fast rhythm. The smell of lavender curls into Joey's nostrils and combines with the warmth to make him feel oddly sleepy under the fright.
When the credits start rolling and it's safe again, Joey's sure he could actually go to sleep right there. It's pretty late, and the room gently washed in a comforting dim light from the TV, and he's staying over anyway, along with Yugi, Téa, and Serenity. He can hear people shifting around the room, Ryou saying a polite thank you to their hosts for having him. Duke and Tristan are giving him a lift, so they say their goodbyes too.
"Looks like someone found a new teddy bear to cuddle, huh," Tristan chuckles, pausing to roughly knuckle Joey's head on his way out.
Joey squirms and bats Tristan's hand away sleepily. "Geddoff. An' 'm not cuddling. Kaiba wouldn't go for that," he says, nuzzling further into the warm chest and wrapping his arm tighter. "He'd call his dragons on me. Right, rich-boy?"
"I can find no subtle flaw in your reasoning, mutt," says Kaiba.
“See Tris’?” Joey says proudly. “Even Kaiba can’t argue w’ that.”
The hand on Joey's head rubs in soothing circles, and Joey wishes not for the first time in his life that he had the ability to purr. It just feels like it would be appropriate, and Kaiba's voice can do that kind of nice rumble so why shouldn't Joey be able to purrr?
Tristan is laughing. "Whatever you say, man. See you Monday."
"Yeah, see you." Joey waves him off with closed eyes.
Cuddling with Kaiba, honestly. What a dumb idea, Joey thinks, returning his arm to its previous position around Kaiba's waist. Tristan was so stupid sometimes.
The credits end and someone switches the screen off and flicks on the actual light, and Joey groans at the sudden brightness, trying to plant his face down to escape, but is pulled up by a hand on his shoulder.
"Moving a little fast, aren't you?" Kaiba's voice comes out in that deep rumble as Joey blinks at the face coming into focus.
"Huh?" Joey says blearily. Kaiba is giving him a very odd look with his pretty blue eyes, and his hair looks all ruffled from where he's been resting his head on a cushion. Fluffy and shit. It looks funny. Joey wants to put his hand in it even more than usual.
"Your leg, Wheeler,” Kaiba says softly.
"Right, right," Joey mumbles as he gently lifts his leg up.
Upon release, Kaiba stands slowly, back cracking, and Joey feels a wash of cold all over for the absence. He lays back down in the abandoned warm patch and draws the blanket over himself. Through a little peep hole, he watches Kaiba stretch before picking up the plate of remaining lemon cake in one hand, and his own used plate and fork in the other.
"We'll do the rest," Yugi assures him, grabbing a few dirty plates himself as Téa carries away the pizza boxes to the kitchen. It's a sincere assurance; they always do clean up after themselves. In the morning at least.
Kaiba nods. "Thank you, Yugi." he says quietly, standing stiff. "For the cake."
Joey can't see Yugi's face, but he does see him pause in his tidying. Then Yugi gently puts his plates back down on the table and swiftly wraps Kaiba in a hug, arms tight around his chest. With a plate in each hand, Kaiba is absolved from returning it, standing awkwardly with his arms at his sides, but after a second Joey sees him lean in and rest his chin in Yugi's spikes.
"You're welcome," he hears Yugi say. "Happy birthday, Seto."
Joey doesn't move until he's sure Kaiba has left, slowly drawing the blanket off of his face. Sure enough, him and Yugi are the only ones in the room, Yugi cramming wrappers into a big empty chip bag and humming to himself, tiptoeing around the beanbag floor like a little elf.
"It's Kaiba's birthday?" Joey blurts out. He'd said, earlier, but--that had been a joke?
"Hm?" Yugi glances up. "You heard that? Yes, it is."
"But I didn't know!"
"He didn't want a big thing of it," Yugi sighs. "He only told me and said not to mention it, so can you not say anything? Please?"
"...Yeah, 'course," Joey agrees unwillingly.
Kaiba's birthday. If only one of them had thought to check his Wikipedia page, but it did feel weird to learn stuff like that. Especially seeing as Kaiba apparently wanted to keep it on the down low. Joey feels oddly betrayed. If Joey had known, he could've--he doesn't know what. Said something. Brought something. Like, not something big, but something. Joey briefly imagines presenting a stone-faced Kaiba with chocolate and flowers. What would Kaiba even want? Before, Joey would have assumed anything but being bothered by the gang, but he'd just spent it watching a dumb mummy flick with them. Huh.
There’s nothing specific he can get Kaiba that the dickhead couldn’t just get himself if he wanted, and Yugi said no fuss, so it has to be something generic. A fruit basket, maybe? Nice and practical. Healthy eating. But it’s a bit much. Chocolate? Truffles? What does Kaiba like? There’s so many kinds of chocolate. Too risky. Plus, isn’t Kaiba lactose intolerant? Might not be able to eat it anyway. That would be a dick move.
Discontent, Joey hauls himself up and does his best to help out with the cleaning, but it's hard to carry stuff around with crutches. He says good night to Téa when he sees her in the kitchen, and to the kids when he catches them in the hall. Mokuba and Serenity always assure everyone they'll go to their beds and are inevitably found passed out on their beanbags, surrounded by empty junk food wrappers in the morning. Gremlin children. Joey blames Mokuba's influence and Kaiba blames Serenity’s.
Téa prefers to have her own space in a guest bedroom upstairs, and Joey and Yugi would usually take one too but Joey would rather avoid the stairs. The mansion doesn't have any guest bedrooms on the ground floor, but they’ve set up two couches in one of the loungey-type rooms (honestly, this place is way too big) with pillows and blankets.
"D'you think he had fun?" Joey asks suddenly when he and Yugi are tucked into their respective cocoons, the room lit only by the faint light from the window. Shadows loom from everywhere, and Joey tries not to imagine shambling figures leaping out. "Kaiba, I mean."
There's a rustling as Yugi shuffles around to face him, even though they can barely see each other anyway. "I think so," Yugi sighs, then snorts. "Even with you climbing all over him."
Joey bristles, folding his arms over his blanket, and huffs. "You're as bad as Tristan," he complains. "We were just sitting together!"
“You were basically in his lap, Joey.”
“Wasn’t!”
“Was.”
“Wasn’t.”
“Wasn’t”
“Was.”
Yugi giggles.
“Hey!”
Joey considers throwing a pillow, but they’re a precious commodity and he needs as many as he can get. Most of his are stuffed beneath his leg. Shifting, he tries to get comfortable on his back. Ugh, he’d been so much more cozy on the couch. Joey had felt so snug under the blanket with Kaiba. He’d been too busy hiding from the undead before, but now Joey thinks about it, for such a bony guy Kaiba was surprisingly snuggly, with his soft turtleneck and sweatpants against Joey’s skin, and his arm around Joey’s back and the soothing rise and fall of-
Wait. Wait.
What?
Joey bolts upright. "Did Kaiba just let me put my face in his tits?" he says far too loudly, but like, shit. A moment ago he was about to fall asleep, but he whirls around to face Yugi's direction having never felt more awake in his life. "Did Kaiba just let me snuggle him for two hours and put my face in his tits?"
"You know, Joey, I think he did." Yugi yawns, woefully unbothered by Joey’s brain making dial up noises as it desperately tries to update itself. "But you let him pet your hair, so I think you're even."
After spending a few seconds completely frozen, Joey crashes back down with a thump that makes him bounce a little, couch creaking. Did he really just spend two hours cuddling with Kaiba, and was too fucking freaked out by the movie to notice? And apparently he was the only one not to notice. Fuck. Kaiba must’ve noticed.
But he hadn’t tried to stop him. Not even once.
If only Joey knew where the asshole’s bedroom was, and didn’t have to contend with a broken leg, he could be off giving him a piece of his mind. But he doesn’t, and he does, so he can’t. Instead, he blinks with drowsy bewilderment at the ceiling, eyes following the whorls in the plaster that appears a black-blue in the dark.
Maybe just a card. Yes, a card. That’s not a big deal. Something tasteful. Or funny. Funny is good. ‘Congratulations on turning 10.’ Or is that too mean? But they’re always mean to each other. Maybe if he can find something with a dragon on it. Ooh, yes, a Blue-Eyes blowing out candles on a cake with its powerful dragon breath. Joey doubts he can find something that specific in a store, but he got those watercolours from Serenity on his own birthday, and he’s getting pretty good at them. He can make it. He draws dragons all the time, this shouldn’t be too hard.
Yes, that’s it--a watercolour Blue-Eyes card. That’s not making a big deal. He can make it tomorrow, and give it to Kaiba at school on Monday. Or just put it in his locker, so neither of them have to stand around awkwardly while he hands it over. Play it cool. He said he wouldn’t say anything after all.
Joey gets to sleep eventually, and only wakes up at just before twelve the next day. Kaiba’s already gone apparently, out and off to work even on a Sunday, but Mokuba gets Roland to drive everyone back to their respective places, Serenity to the train station.
Managing the stairs by sitting on them and slowly heaving himself up one step at a time, Joey is exhausted by the time he gets home, but at least his dad isn’t in. He sets himself up on his bed, sketching, painting, and at the end up the day he’s surrounded by scrunched up, scribbled papers and has paint flecks all over himself and his sheets, but he’s satisfied with his creation. Joey doesn’t usually draw things interacting--it’s fucking hard, anatomy is difficult enough as it is--but he’s given it his best shot.
On Monday morning, Joey waits around until the coast is clear to slip the card into Kaiba’s locker, and when the bell rings he’s back in the hall as fast as his crutches can swing him for the five minute break. Lurking as inconspicuously as he can, Joey stands at his own locker just a few steps away, exchanging his things for next period as slowly as possible, wondering if he should just scarper while he can but then--Kaiba’s there.
“Wheeler,” he greets curtly without a glance, and Joey nods back, sucking in his lower lip rather than say anything.
There's the clicking twisting of a combination lock, and the squeak of an old hinge, and oh God he’s opening his locker. Finding the card. Staring at it. Opening it. Staring some more.
Joey feels himself fill with cold dread. This was such a bad idea, Kaiba’s just staring at it, he hates it, Joey’s fucked up, why did he think adding a little Red-Eyes using Blue-Eyes as a couch inside was a good idea-
Then Kaiba’s mouth twitches.
“Y’know, Tristan says it was supposed to be part of a multiverse,” Joey blurts out as Kaiba slowly shuts his locker without looking up. “With some Dracula movie that’s just as bad.”
“Really,” Kaiba says, tucking the card into his satchel, in a little pocket at the front. It doesn’t sound like a question.
“Yeah, we were thinking about watching it. But I thought... youmightwanttosuggestsomethingelse?”
When Kaiba looks up at him, Joey’s too far away to really see that little patch in his left eye, but he can remember what it looks like. He thinks he can just make it out, that tiny island in a stormy blue sea. He can definitely make out the quirk in Kaiba’s lips, the crinkle in the skin around his eyes.
The bell rings for next period. They’d better get going. Joey is always late anyway, but Kaiba won’t want to blacken his record.
“Scared, Wheeler?” Kaiba asks, heaving his satchel further up on his shoulder.
Joey shrugs. “A little,” he admits with a grin.
“Idiot,” Kaiba says softly as he walks past. “I’ll be there.”