Warnings/notes : Seto/Joey, drabble-ish shortie, slightly silly.
Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.
written at 8th july 2004, by Misura
Joey likes pink doughnuts.
He can't quite explain why they taste better than plain doughnuts, or doughnuts with chocolate on them or even, though he has only had those once, mint-green doughnuts (he was scared they'd taste like tooth-paste at first, but they didn't).
He guesses it's simply one of those things that are impossible to explain, like why Yugi -still- hasn't figured out Joey and Honda's reason for allowing him and Anzu to be locked in a class-room together for nearly an hour, and why he -still- hasn't beaten the snot out of Kaiba for those stupid dog-jokes. (Though Joey swears, if Kaiba calls him 'mutt' one more time ...).
Some things in life are simply inexplicable.
According to the package, the icing on the doughnuts is 'strawberry-tasted'. (Joey is pretty sure that not a single strawberry was harmed in the production of these doughnuts. Not that he'd care if there was.)
Joey is not really in the habit of reading the text on whatever contains his food (most of the things that are on the list of ingredients are meaningless to him, and what would -he- care about the amount of fat per pound?) but that one time, he needed something, anything, to look at.
He thinks he's read the list of ingredients four or five times before Kaiba finally departed. He still doesn't know whether or not Kaiba saw him, sitting there looking guilty.
Because he does feel guilty, just a little. For not sharing, never mind that he and Honda usually end up 'sharing' their lunches only occurs because they both decide at the same moment that the other's lunch will probably taste better than their own. (Which isn't true. Honda's is better, always.)
Normally, Joey wouldn't mind, would even offer Anzu his dessert, when she's gotten the silly idea that she's too fat and should be dieting into her head again, or Yugi his piece of fruit, if he has one, since he doesn't really like fruit anyway.
But he figures that everyone needs some sort of addiction, and his happens to be pink doughnuts, that don't taste like strawberries. What's the harm in that?
And so, once every two weeks or so, he spends his lunch-break away from Yugi and the others, seeking instead a nice and quiet spot to indulge himself. What his friends think he's doing, he doesn't know.
Honda has once joked that Joey's meeting his secret lover, which made Anzu giggle. Yugi didn't laugh, just staring uncertainly at Joey with an expression that said 'You'd tell me if you'd have found that special someone, wouldn't you? You wouldn't hide something like that from me'.
Joey had smiled, reassuring Yugi - 'No, of course not. Believe me, you're my best friend' - and proceeded to jump at Honda, threatening to strangle him for betraying Joey's trust. That had made Anzu giggle even harder, until she was laughing outright, and after that, they'd never spoken about it again.
Life is good, with all the 'bad guys that wanted to take over the world' gone. Now, only the 'bad guy that doesn't want to take over the world, because he's already rich enough to own half of it' remains.
Who is really not the person Joey wants to think about at this moment, this special, private moment when he's about to taste heaven for a mere three-hundred-and-fifty yen, only what can he do about it? It's too late already.
He takes the first bite, and it's sweetness and delight and heaven. Almost enough to make him forget whom he was seeing in his mind, whom he didn't want to see, in his mind, or anywhere else for that matter.
Closing his eyes doesn't help, so he opens them, noting the bite-mark on the doughnut. He knows he'll need at least five times to completely eat it, yet looking at it, a third of the doughnut seems to have vanished already.
He has more of them, naturally.
After the third doughnut, he feels quite good. Though he can't help but keep thinking of Kaiba.
Would Kaiba like doughnuts too? Somehow, it seems impossible to picture the high and not-so-mighty-only-acting-like-he-is-just-the-same eating a doughnut.
That bothers Joey, a little.
Because, well, Kaiba is a human too. He should be able to eat doughnuts, even if it's only in Joey's imagination.
Joey starts on his fourth doughnut, and since he's closed his eyes again, he doesn't notice someone approaching him, until that person has come quite near.
If there's one person who you really don't want to have pop up out of nowhere to spoil your lunch-break, you can bet your life on exactly that person showing up. Joey is aware of this, as much good as that does him.
Kaiba doesn't speak.
He does glare, because he's Kaiba, and it'd probably be the end of the world if Kaiba would stop glaring for more than a few seconds. Unless Mokuba's around, of course.
The silence gets on Joey's nerves. Not the glare.
"Want a doughnut?"
Normally, he'd rather bite off his tongue than to offer to share his treasure, but this is an exception. Besides, if Kaiba says 'yes', he can finally see Kaiba eating a doughnut, and that'd be worth a small sacrifice.
To make it easier, he holds out the package, pulling back the plastic to make it easier still. All Kaiba has to do is to reach out his hand and take a doughnut.
Kaiba doesn't, of course.
Kaiba rarely does what people expect him to do.
Kaiba never does what people hope for him to do. It's part of his personality, like thousand-and-one other annoying characteristics that make Joey want to beat some sense into him.
Without speaking a word, Kaiba steps back. It is, Joey reflects, a strange reaction, almost as if Joey has scared him in some way.
Joey rises, not thinking about it. The paper towel on his lap which he uses as a napkin, and also to keep his trousers clean, falls to the ground, taking Joey's fourth doughnut with it.
Kaiba stares at it, causing Joey to stare at it too, thinking 'I should hate Kaiba for making me waste that delicious doughnut'. Which sounds silly. There are plenty of good, not-silly reasons for him to hate Kaiba.
"I don't like junk-food," Kaiba states, as solemnly as if he has just told Joey the secret code of his safe.
"That's no excuse to throw my lunch into the dirt," Joey replies. He knows it's unreasonable to blame his own thoughtlessness on Kaiba, yet he feels like being unreasonable. Around Kaiba, it doesn't matter.
Kaiba glances at the half-empty (or half-full) package in Joey's hands. Joey is sure that Kaiba will ignore his point, saying something like 'You have more of them' or, always a good possibility, 'Stupid mutt'.
Once again, Kaiba does the unexpected, as Joey should have expected.
"It's bad for you," he says.
Joey ponders that for a moment.
"I didn't know you cared," he finally answers.
Kaiba studies him, then nods.
"No. That's right."
And then he walks away, and Joey thinks about him some more, even if he doesn't want to, and concludes that Kaiba is quite a strange person, whom he'll probably never understand.