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There were, generally speaking, about four levels of “problem,” Jonouchi could be aware of in his friend’s relationship. The first was less “problem,” and more the inevitable pitfalls of being around other humans, the minor annoyances and frustrations friends could freely trade. Yugi would complain about his boyfriend’s inability to carry a yen note under 10,000; Jo equally griped on how Mai’s idea of a day out was shopping, with him carrying the bags (and paying for the boba teas).
The second level was annoyingly earnest questions from Yugi about minor arguments, amounting to, “Was I being a jerk there? I want to be fair, and-” Annoying because Jonouchi had to give balanced, supportive answers, rather than sharing what he really wanted to say, which was, “Nope, dump him.”
The last level of “problem,” Jo would have known about, because it would have been earth-shattering, “That’s it, we’re through,” levels of big. Something like infidelity or murder. But it was that third level in between that was the trickiest: something bad enough that Yugi was mad, and keeping a little distance from his partner; but crucially not explaining the issue to his friends, because if they counseled a breakup, and things ended up being worked out, the friendship could only be strained thereafter.
Jo kind of liked this level, because then he and Yugi hung out more, without any talk of the boyfriend in question. Yugi was hardly neglectful of his friends, but relationships took up time, Jonouchi understood that. He could also practice his telepathy, an experiment that had yet to turn up any conclusive results, but one he was still hoping might someday work out, where he constantly thought, “Dump him, dump him, dump that bastard,” in his friend’s direction, and waited for him to do just that.
After all, Kaiba was a jerk! Yugi insisted he had softer, kinder qualities his friends were not privy to, but that was not convincing to Jonouchi. Yeah, okay, he was tall (freakishly so, inconveniently so to the vertically challenged Yugi), he was allegedly handsome, and he was stupid rich (that part was fair); but he was haughty, self-centered, smug, proud, vain, and a Grade A douchenozzle. But Yugi had to go date him, so now Jonouchi had to play nice, because he was a good friend, and he wanted his best buddy to be happy, and somehow Kaiba was the one who made him so! Because life was stupid like that.
So, what was a best friend to do in this situation, but distract his buddy with better times, cheer him up a bit, and just accept their time together for what it was?
And make no mistake, Jonouchi was, if nothing else, a very good friend, and his tender care seemed to have the desired effect on Yugi. He was relaxed and smiling as they hung out together in the game shop, talking with his grandfather about new card strategies and what different tournaments were coming up in the season ahead. It all went swimmingly and everyone was having fun – until a delivery van pulled in front of the shop.
“That’s odd,” Sugoroku remarked, “I didn’t have any deliveries scheduled for today. And they usually pull into the alley.”
It became very quickly clear that the reason for this aberration in the delivery schedule was because it was not a package for the shop. The driver opened up the back of the van, briefly disappeared from view, and returned into their line of vision staggering under what could only be described as an absolutely massive array of flowers. The vase alone was as big as the man’s torso, with a purple velvet bow that was at least a food wide. An arch of pink orchids came through the door, studded with blush pink roses, clusters of indigo hydrangeas, and silver-and-rose colored succulents. The vase made a large thud as it was lowered to the floor in front of the counter, and the flower arrangement still reached up to their heads. It was an absurd piece of flora, and the deliveryman dusted his uniform off and asked casually, “Delivery for Yugi Muto?”
Yugi read the tag attached to the bow with a deeply contemplative look on his face – and pulled out his wallet, sliding two 1,000 yen notes across the counter to the deliveryman. “I’d like you to take this back to the shop, and let the person who ordered it know it isn’t being accepted.”
Yugi’s grandfather stared at him. Even Jonouchi was a little gobsmacked, and the driver looked horrified – not leastwise because it would mean lugging that stupid vase back into the van again. “But- sir, I couldn’t possibly-!” Yugi said nothing, and put down three more notes of equal value. The man sighed, head dropping to his chest – and with a grunt, picked up the vase again and trotted off as best he could (but not without first having pocketed the incentive).
The three said nothing until they’d watched the van retreat, when Jonouchi ventured, “Uh, Yugi-”
“So, that MTG tournament next weekend.” He had the kind of look in his eyes Jo recognized from his duels. That, “Try me,” look of defiance, and no one in this building was stupid enough to do so.
The next outing was an arcade trip with the boys, though they were getting to an age where that term was becoming strained. It didn't stop them from acting like boys, however. Hiroto spent as much time as possible sniping zombies in the House of the Dead cabinet, and bragged about his success to anyone who would listen; Jonouchi focused on whatever gave him the best ticket payout for prizes; and Yugi, well, Yugi played a little of everything, and won everything he touched. This would have been annoying, except he donated every ticket to Jo, which was like him.
“There's nothing you want, Yugi?” Bakura asked, contenting himself the VR games whenever they opened up, and otherwise watching his friends when they were taken.
“Nah. Besides, Joey's still saving up to get that stuffed Pet Dragon for Mai!”
It was still not enough tickets yet, even with Yugi's contribution, and the four decided to call it quits in order to get food before heading home. “Doesn't Mai always win more tickets than you, Joey?” Hiroto asked, brow quirked, as they ambled toward the nearest food cart.
“Yeah, and wouldn't it be cheaper, and more effective, to use the money you spend on games to get her a really nice-”
“I don't recall asking for the relationship advice, Bakura.”
“Well, it's certainly not something she'd expect!” That was Yugi, always being the optimist and sticking up for Jo's ideas.
“Exactly! And, not only does it get her a present, it lets me continue to spend money on things I enjoy! It's a win-win!”
“I think she'd see that as a lose-win,” Bakura tried again, but was stopped by Hiroto's hand on his shoulder.
“Bakura, wait. There's something in your hair.”
“Huh?”
“Jo, you too!”
“I didn't think the weather report called for rain today?”
But it was raining – purple flower petals were coating the street. They were hardly the only pedestrians to notice, and incredulous murmurs and shouts made the four look up to find the source of the purple precipitation.
A large blimp, the kind used for advertisements or sports rallies, was drifting by, dropping a payload of petals and repeating a message on the digital ticker: “I'M SORRY. PLEASE CALL ME. - BLUE EYES.”
“'Blue Eyes?'”
“Well, it's obviously for you,” Hiroto drawled, crossing his arms and looking at Yugi. For his part, Yugi looked incredibly red in the face. And not a cute, bashful, embarrassed red; an, “I'm going to send you to the Shadow Realm,” angry red. “There's only one person in the city who would put out a blimp to get your attention.”
“Sure, but why 'Blue Eyes?'” Jonouchi rubbed at his chin. “Cause of the card, or-” He stopped. He looked at Yugi. Slowly, everyone else did, too. “Is that your goddamn pet name for him?”
It was slightly more of an embarrassed red on Yugi's face now.
A lot of summer nights had been spent in Yugi's bedroom when they were younger, sprawled before the small television and playing some video game or another together. The windows would be open in an attempt to catch a cross breeze and save them from the sticky heat, the insistent songs of crickets and frogs almost drowning out the television. It was one of Jonouchi's favorite memories to reminisce on, the simplicity of it, the hours of fun and companionship, deep into hot summer nights.
So it was nice to relive that again on this night, eating too many fried snacks and playing whatever old Tales game Yugi had found on his shelf. Jonouchi had been in more of a Smash Bros mood, but Yugi needed something where he fought on a team, instead of with someone else. Even with his laughter, he sometimes got quiet and contemplative, a sadness and loneliness in his eyes Jo didn't like, but unfortunately understood. It was about time to swallow his dislike, and do something he really, really (really) did not want to, for his best friend's sake: it was time to ask him what happened, and if he really couldn't patch things up with that dumbass he was so stupidly in love with.
Jo had just nearly gathered up the stomach to do just this, when he was saved by the most unlikely person imaginable. There was a clatter of small stones against the window and side of the house, plus a voice shouting his name in a stage whisper. Jonouchi and Yugi looked at each other at the same moment – and went to the window, the former hanging back, tall enough to see even from a distance.
It was Kaiba alright, which wasn't so surprising, except for the context in which he'd appeared. Having gotten his lover's attention, he was down on one knee in the alleyway, pleading – which Jonouchi would have liked seeing in most circumstances, but in this case, he found uncomfortable. “Please, Yugi!” Oh gawd, he also said the word “please?” What exactly did Yugi do to this man? “Please talk to me? I'm really sorry, I am, I'm a total jerk, you're right, I'm wrong, just please let me come up-”
Yugi glanced back at his friend. “Jo-”
“No sweat,” he threw up his hands in resignation. “Second banana, I get it.”
“Jonouchi.”
Jo smiled, and Yugi relaxed; the outraged was feigned this time, and they both knew it. If Kaiba could make him happy, well....that was good enough. Jonouchi cuffed his friend on the shoulder. “Make sure to take money from his wallet, though, okay?”
“I don't have to, he keeps putting bills in there when he thinks I'm not looking. How do you think I tipped that delivery driver so well?”
“....Yeah, alright, he can stay.”
“Yugi-!” came plaintively from the window once more.
The lover boy sighed. “Would you let him in?”
“Yeah, sure. But he doesn't get to take over for me in the game.” They said their goodnights, and Jonouchi ambled down the stairs to fetch the city's most whipped billionaire. Yugi must have motioned to his lover to go around to the door, because when Jonouchi opened it, he was standing right there.
He must also have been expecting Yugi to answer, because he was leaning forward like he was about to fall into his welcome embrace, and had to dramatically right himself on the discovery it was not, in fact, his King of Games in front of him. A silence followed while Jo collected himself from having narrowly escaped being kissed by Seto Kaiba. “....Katsuya.”
“Kaiba.”
“.....Yugi in?”
“Upstairs,” he sighed, moving aside and letting the man stride in. “Oh, one thing.” Kaiba paused on the first step, looking back at him and saying nothing. “Whatever you did, don't screw up like that again. Yugi's too good for you, and if you have any sense, you know it.” Kaiba said nothing – but that also meant he didn't spit and snarl and argue, so that was probably a high point in their relationship so far. He at last continued up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and Jo shut the door behind him on his way out. Passing beneath Yugi's window on the way to the street, he thought he could hear his friend's soft, happy giggle. Kaiba was apparently not quite as stupid as all appearances indicated.
Well, he had significantly more time this evening than he'd initially planned for...
“What's so important it couldn't wait?” Mai had gone into a jog the last several paces to catch up with Jonouchi outside the arcade door, and she didn't look happy about it. (Also, how did she do that in those heels? She really was amazing.) “I hope the surprise is that you got on the list for that new club they opened last week.”
“Mai,” Jonouchi announced, rocking on his feet and feeling incredibly pleased with himself, “I got something even better than that. I got you – this.” From behind his back, he produced a fairly large, stuffed Harpy's Pet Dragon, its glassy black eyes reflecting the neon of the arcade's signs.
Mai stared from the stuffed animal, to him. “Did you win that for me? From there?”
“You don't need to sound so impressed. I know what you're thinking: 'But it's three thousand tickets! How could he ever get that many?' Well, let me tell you, when you're talking about a serious sportsman like me-”
“You moron.” She sighed and canted her hip to the side, crossing her arms in front of her. “Those things are barely glued together, you could get them for ten dollars online. How much money did you waste on those arcade machines?”
“I- uh-” He really hated it when Bakura was right.
Mai watched Jonouchi begin and abort several attempts at answering her question – before she took the toy from his hands, giggling softly. “You're cute sometimes, Jo.”
That, also, was not the response he expected. “I – what?”
She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Come on.” She linked her arm in his, pulling him along. “You can buy me a drink.”
“S-sure! That sounds great!” They started down the street, the dragon tucked in her free arm, and Jonouchi could have even spared a nice word for Kaiba in that moment. “....Only you're going to need to spot me the money, I'm all tapped out right this sec-”