Warnings/notes : Seto/Joey, Mokuba, two-shot kind of unhappy songfic.
Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. The song 'Furious angels' belongs to Rob Dougan.
written at 20th january 2004, by Misura, in reply to a songfic-challenge in jou_loves_kaiba by luminairie (it was required to be this song, Angst and without any break-up or death)
//Like a sentence of death,
I got no options left,// [Seto]
The sound of rain on the windows of his working-room. For some reason, that was all he had been aware of for the past half hour, his eyes blindly scanning the data that flashed over the screen of his computer as if nothing was wrong.
Which was true, he assured himself. Everything was exactly as it should be. He was in control of his life and his emotions. He was in control of the mutt that was probably even now making his way through the pouring rain, like the obedient dog he had become.
He wondered if the mutt would be intelligent enough to have brought an umbrella. Probably not. His pup had a tendency to be unable to focus on more than one subject, meaning he'd probably dropped whatever he had been doing at the time of Seto's call to come over immediately.
It was almost disappointing, the ease with which he could pull the other's strings currently. There was no challenge in it, and only little enjoyment.
//I've got nothing to show now.
I'm down on the ground,// [Joey]
His clothing was soaked within what seemed like seconds. It didn't matter much to him, though he knew he'd probably catch a cold if he wouldn't get into someplace warm and dry quickly. He stared at the mansion in front of him, noticing the soft light shining through the third window from the left on the second floor.
So, Kaiba was in his office, undoubtedly waiting for him eagerly, while pretending to be busy with his work. He sighed. Kaiba's constant games were starting to get on his nerves. They made him uncertain, a sensation he didn't particularly care for. He preferred his world to be simple, but sure.
The illusion of caring in exchange for the illusion of absolute ownership. That had been their agreement at the start of this odd relationship. Love had never been an issue, though his own longing for someone to hold and cherish him might be confused for that emotion.
//I've got seconds to live,
and you can't go now.// [Seto]
Resisting the urge to open the curtains to be able to see the mutt's arrival, he chose to check the clock instead, even if it told him nothing new, nothing he couldn't already see on his watch. He frowned, his mind providing reasons that might be keeping the blond from being here already.
Scowling at his over-active imagination, he set to work again. Or rather, to the gazing at the numbers and letters of the screen without taking in their meaning. Not that it mattered. He might be unwilling to admit being in this state out loud, yet he always took care to be going over some old report when the need to see his puppy became too strong.
He loathed himself for his weakness, his inability not to grab his cell-phone to order the other to come over whenever he felt like it. In the beginning, he had tried to suppress it, keeping from calling for weeks that seemed like months and months that seemed like years.
//'Cause love, like an invisible bullet, shot me down
and I'm bleeding, yeah I'm bleeding// [Joey]
The rain falling in curtains blurred the world around him to an unclear vision of gray, ugly and dreary. Light and warmth were nearby, yet he chose to stay where he was for just a few seconds longer, just a few more minutes, to prove that he could.
Perhaps that would have been easier on a sunny day, he reflected sourly as his body began to go cold, his hands feeling like they were freezing, turning to ice. He shivered, huddling miserably against the wall that offered him at least some protection against the cutting wind.
It couldn't be healthy, he mused, this preference for standing out here in the rain while he could have been sitting in a warm office, possibly sipping from a cup of hot chocolate if Mokuba had whined loud enough to convince his brother to make some. Maybe he should simply go home. *That* would definitely show he wasn't as dependent as some people seemed to think.
//And if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me.
They will bring you back to me.// [Seto]
Mokuba didn't knock. Still, he heard the boy's footsteps dancing down the hall, coming closer and closer until they halted in front of the door to his working-room. Hence, he was prepared for the intrusion, carefully having created a perfectly normal scene, wearing his usual blank mask.
"Joey's outside, getting all wet," Mokuba remarked. From the way the kid regarded him, one would almost think he was expected to rush out and drag the stupid, stubborn mutt inside to save him from a pneumonia. Mokuba obviously was too young, too innocent to understand what was going on.
He cherished his little brother for those things though, for his easy acceptance and unconditional, undemanding affection. The occasional awkwardness and annoyance at not being understood was more than worth that.
"If that's his cup of tea ... " he shrugged.
//You're a dirty needle,
you're in my blood and there's no cure in me.// [Joey]
When he had forced his feet to start moving, he had intended to walk away, to go home or, possibly, to Yugi's, where he would be welcome. Instead, he found himself heading for the door of the mansion, to meet the person who had caused the light in the hallway to turn on.
He knew whose face would greet him as the door swung open even before he had rung the doorbell. Sometimes he wondered what was going on behind those dark-purple eyes that always seemed to smile and sparkle, as if there were no cares in this world, no shadows.
It seemed not possible for anyone to be that innocent and happy. It had to be some sort of mask, some sort of lie to hide away the way Mokuba truly felt. Like he himself hid behind a careless grin, like Kaiba pretended to be heartless ...
//I want to run, like the blood from a wound
to a place you can't see me.// [Seto]
"You're late." And wet, but he didn't add that last. He disliked stating the obvious, meaning his greeting as a reproach rather than a statement, even if the mutt would take it as the last.
"It's raining," was the only half-logical reply. He'd almost believe he *had* accused his puppy of being wet as well. Perhaps the answer had come in response to what the blond had thought him to say, instead of the words that had actually left his mouth.
"I hadn't noticed." Sarcasm was fully lost on the mutt, who was simply not intelligent enough to notice it. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll be in my office." He walked away, not looking back at the half-drowned puppy that stood there, dripping water on his floor.
~to be concluded in the second part?~