Downsides of democracy
Warnings/notes: Seto/Joey, Mokuba, snippet, ooc?
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.
written at 17th february 2005, by Misura, for the livejournal-community daily15. (word: voted) (Basically, the idea is that you take fifteen minutes to write a little something, inspired by the 'word of the day'. I needed a bit longer for this ficlet though. -coughblushes-)
Perhaps, Seto mused sourly, it had not been such a great idea to give Joey a say in the running of the Kaiba-household. It had seemed like a stroke of genius at first; Joey'd be living with him and Mokuba after all, so it sounded perfectly fair and proper that Joey'd get a vote to cast whenever there was a disagreement about something.
When it had just been Seto and Mokuba, most of the times, Seto ended up doing what was best, in spite of Mokuba disagreeing with him. Of course, Mokuba had never stayed angry with his big brother for very long, but their fights, no matter how small, still left Seto feeling uneasy and lacking in diplomatic skills.
By making Joey a real member of their household, Seto had hoped he'd prevent such feelings. Joey was his lover after all; if he knew what was good for him and didn't want to end up sleeping on the proverbial couch for a week, Joey'd better use the authority that Seto'd given him to support Seto's decisions. It'd have been a two-against-one, so Mokuba couldn't have claimed Seto not paying any attention to -his- wishes in such a case; Seto'd simply be following the vote of the majority.
Of course, he should have known things wouldn't work out like that.
"What's for dinner today?" Mokuba inquired, seemingly talking to nobody in particular.
Seto opened his mouth to remark that a young, growing boy like Mokuba needed a certain amount of vegetables every day, and that he was sure that if Joey'd give him a hand, he'd be able to whip up something both healthy and tasty.
However, Joey was quicker, as always, really, when it concerned food.
Seto suspected strongly that at some point during the day, Joey and Mokuba had a secret meeting where they decided what kind of junkfood they'd pick for dinner. However, he'd yet to catch them at it, so for the moment he could merely scowl and glare threateningly at Joey.
Naturally, Joey completely ignored him, either because his mind was too occupied by the prospect of pizza to notice anything else, or because Seto's glares simply didn't impress him anymore. Neither option sounded very appealing to Seto.
"I want one with tomato and cheese!" Mokuba stated firmly. Seto hadn't yet figured out if he ought to be insulted or relieved by Mokuba never bothering to point out to him that if Joey and him agreed about something, Seto's opinion basically didn't matter one bit anymore.
"But we already had one like that last week!" Joey protested. On one hand, Seto was glad he'd managed to whet his boyfriend's taste for variety, and that Joey just wouldn't jump at a chance to eat anything, but on the other, he wished that Joey'd developed his preferences a bit more in the direction Seto'd intended for him to.
"So? They're the best kind!" Mokuba crossed his arms over his chest, in a gesture that informed Seto there was no way Mokuba'd change his mind about the matter at hand.
"No, they're not! I want a pizza with all those different kinds of ... stuff on it, not a boring one with just tomato-goo and cheese!" Joey glowered at Mokuba.
For a moment, the two of them merely stared at each other, neither willing to give in. Then, so simultaneously that Seto was convinced that it couldn't be a coincidence, and had to be another one of those things they agreed upon in secret meetings, they turned to the third party with a say in what'd be ordered for dinner this evening.
"Seto! Tell that little pest that you agree with me!"
"Big brother! Don't you love me anymore?"
Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if he'd actually liked either kind of pizza. He didn't though; as long as it kept his stomach from distracting him from more important things, Seto was content to eat whatever was available, but over the past months, he'd also developed a certain distaste for junkfood. The fact that it wasn't healthy only added to that; he failed to see why he'd have to eat something that was bad for him and that he didn't even enjoy to eat.
Unfortunately, he'd explicitly declared dinner to be an occasion where they'd vote in case there was any disagreement about its contents -with the thought that he'd thus be able to force some healthy vegetables down Mokuba's throat without actually having to act like a bully.
"I ..." he started, with more despair than hope. Arguments about dinner had a tendency to have the same end-result.
"Waah! My big brother hates me!"
"You can sleep on the couch tonight, moneybags!"
Before he could say another word, Seto found himself alone in the living-room, out of favor with both his brother and his boyfriend, for no good reason he could fathom. He sighed, feeling a headache coming up, that only worsened when he remembered the things he'd yet to do before tomorrow.
Fifteen minutes later, the sound of the doorbell alerted him to the arrival of today's dinner.