Warnings/notes : Seto/Joey, drabble-ish, slightly weird, hints at sex, Seto-focus.
Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.
written at 1st July 2004, by Misura, as a birthday-offering to Radiany
Like a nice, crisp winter-morning, nobody lingering on the streets for their pleasure.
Like ice. Icecream, Mokuba's favorite dessert, strawberry and chocolate and vanilla.
Like the gaze of his Blue Eyes, without a hint of pity, mercy, weakness, before destroying its opponent.
Like Yami, strong, willing to kill, hurt, sacrifice for victory. Determined. Controlled.
Like he wanted to be.
He opened his eyes to find the blankets only covering his body up to his waist.
The cold made him shiver, goosebumps breaking out on his arms and chest.
He despised himself for his weakness, his body's inability to obey his mind.
"Seto? It's inpolite to hog the blankets."
"I'm cold." He spoke without thought.
A chuckle. "Well, we can't have that, now, can we?"
Like an afternoon in spring, on which Mokuba'd beg and whine to go to the park with him.
Like pancakes, Mokuba's favorite breakfast 'but only if they're made by my big brother'.
Like Joey's hugs, spontaneous, sincere, foolish and stupid.
Like Joey himself. And Mokuba. Though the two of them were not alike, not at all, neither in character nor in the way he felt about them.
"I don't like you."
A tightening of the embrace in which he was held captive. "Normally, that line would be followed by something cheesy, 'I love you', or something like that."
He snorted. "If you expect me to spout such sentimental nonsense to you, you are even less intelligent than I had assumed you were."
"You really know how to make a guy feel cherished and appreciated, don't you? And just so that it's clear: I don't like you either. I kind of hate your guts, come to think of it."
"And that's why you're here, naked, in one bed with me. Because you hate me. Really, puppy."
"Hmmmm - hey! No fair, trying to win this argument by distracting me like that!"
"My bed, my rules. And you were going to lose anyway."
Like a lazy summer-evening, without any comfort to be found anywhere.
Like Mokuba's anger, expressed in yelling, screaming, slamming doors, crying.
Like Joey's kisses, making him feel like he was burning, going up in flames, without the smallest shred of self-control left, and the worst of it was knowing that he didn't care at all in those moments, only afterwards, when ashes were all that remained.
"Did you ever wonder why we fight so much?"
"Not really. I assumed it was simply the fact that you're a stupid mutt who doesn't know when to keep his big mouth shut, while I feel some inexplicable need to correct you."
"I should whack you for that."
"I wouldn't advise that. I'd whack back."
"A pillow-fight at ... five-thirty in the morning is -not- the way I'd prefer to start my day, thank you."
"It'd be fun. I bet Mokuba'd say so too."
He woke up smiling.
He woke up alone, with only the picture standing on his night-stand for company, showing a goofily smiling blonde, standing next to a scowling brunette.
At a quarter to six, with dawn a good half hour away, Seto Kaiba already knew it was going to be another cold day.