The Halloween Parade

('scuse typos, please.)

Chapter One: All Hallows

Seto Kaiba sat hidden in an alcove, deep in the back of the ballroom. He was sitting on a huge throne with monstrous claws for its feet and black bones for its arms. At the top of its back, there was a wickedly curved dragon skull. It leered over him at any partygoers who stopped to stare through the decorations.

He was trying to hide from the party. He liked publicity spectacles as much as the next person – okay, he liked them much more than the next person – but this was just ridiculous. His chair was obscured from most of the crowd by strands of hanging skulls and chains of bones, and a relentless mass of glowing spider webs. It seemed like a lot of those cobwebs were now beginning to get stuck in their hair or their hats or some other part of their costume.

The whole Halloween party was the brat's pet project. It was like his little brother had been taken over by pod people sometime during puberty – no, it was like that kid in The Exorcist. Any second now Mokuba's head could spin right around 360 and Seto wouldn't be surprised. So much enthusiasm for... Everything. Probably Seto should have made him eat a more balanced breakfast while he was growing up.

Yeah. Grapefruit. Bran. Wholegrain toast. Not those sugar-covered-candy-Os his little brother had chowed down on for the last ten years. Maybe those nutritionists were on to something. Well, if they hadn't tried to make him change his diet too – i.e., to stop drinking coffee and start eating... well, food – he wouldn't have fired them so quickly. It was their own damn fault.

And now Mokuba had decided that he could throw much better parties at the Kaiba Mansion than the Playboy Mansion had ever seen. Well, sure. If he could organise entire tournaments as a child, what was shipping a tonne of decorations – literally – from the US for a little soiree?

Kaiba had, of course, been against it. Let a hoard of squawling, sprawling, drunken, masked strangers into his house? Uh... No. And a hell of a lot HELL no, too. But some things never changed, and unfortunately Mokuba's wheedling was one of them. Somewhere between Mokuba promising NOT to get a tattoo and only stick to piercings (little ones!), and crossing his heart that Kaiba would not have to endure the horror of another forced birthday party for himself next month, Kaiba'd had to agree. Had to. Because Mokuba was still the same sweet, puppy-dog-eyed kid he'd always been. He was still thoughtful, calming, caring and dismayingly persuasive. Except now he used his powers for evil, not good.

Also, Kaiba really hated birthday parties.

Except now Seto Kaiba was sitting in a much bigger kind of party. That was different, apparently. For one thing,this whole thing was a fundraiser. A fundraiser to raise money for medical attention for children in third world countries.

Okay, okay. He had to admit that it was an amazing party, but that didn't mean he liked the vacuous crowd of party-goers who were first and foremost interested in nosing around the inside of the infamous Kaiba mansion. He didn't like sitting up on a spooky pedestal under a hellish red light. He felt like he was supposed to be on display like some kind of party prop.

On the other hand, the alternative was to go down and mingle, and sitting was the option he was going with. If he sat still enough they might look at his costume and figure he was just a prop.

Of course he wasn't sulking. Seto Kaiba didn't sulk. (Well, except for when he missed an episode of Hospital Hopeless because another board meeting went late.) Kaiba was just keeping an eye on things. And there was a lot to keep an eye on. In fact, as good a job as Mokuba had done turning their home into some inner circle of hell, the partygoers were by far the scariest part of the whole thing.

For example, it was hard to tell the guests apart from the blood-dripping, shifting, screaming, oozing decorations that filled the ballroom, especially when you factored in that some of the 'party guests' were actually actors paid to scare people in ways that were both disgusting and creative. The music was heavy, booming, dangerous, and a few hours in people were really starting to let loose. He'd seen everything from two men in a horse suit to the Terminator to no less than thirteen freakin' Draculas gathered together for a photograph. Yuugi Mutou was out there somewhere in full pharaoh garb – talk about predictable. There were witches, zombies, belly dancers, cowgirls, werewolves, bunnies, more than a few dead brides and a truly ridiculous number of duel monsters.

And that was when he saw the absolutely gorgeous Dark Magician Girl dancing with the man who was, apparently, a Greek god.

Dionysus, if Kaiba had to guess. The man was dressed in a long, white, piece of fabric – a costume impression of a Greek tunic, the flowing fabric gathered at only one shoulder, showing off its wearer's shaped, strong chest and leaving toned arms bare – except for where a snake trailed down the left one. The tunic's white colour only emphasised the honey tan of the man's skin, and its fabric swirled like a dress, flashing equally honey-brown legs underneath it. A strip of leopard print fur followed the fabric where it gathered in the waist, up to the gold pin at the shoulder. Long, sandy blonde hair was pushed back off the man's face, intertwined with vine leaves and grapes. And the face itself – a dark purple Greek theatre mask which covered his face entirely and revealed nothing about the man's features. The face was grinning. The theatre mask was the clue to what this costume was supposed to be.

Kaiba was intrigued. What kind of person dressed as a greek god for Halloween? Of course, it was pretty obvious this guy was a god. Kaiba had studied world religions for two reasons: out of a mingled curiosity and contempt for humanity, and a desire to pillage them for new duel monsters cards and attributes. Kaiba knew the man was dressed as a god, and which one – he'd done classical myth inside out. But mostly Kaiba knew he was a god from the way he moved to the music.

The man was confident, completely at ease with himself, completely unconscious of the way his body moved. It seemed to move without thought, without care, carried along by the thrum of the music and the movements of his dance partner. In short, it was unbelievably sexy.

Argh. Argh, argh, ARGH!

And it only made matters worse that the Dark Magician Girl he was dancing with was petite, shapely, and completely failed to be horribly disfigured on her cute little face. There was something familiar about that face. Kaiba stared at it for a second, the feeling of vague recognition niggling the shit out of him. Then he cocked his head. They were the only couple on the dance floor that weren't all over each other. Maybe it wasn't all over for him, then.

Only, he'd have to venture off his throne if he actually wanted to meet someone. Literally, metaphorically... Sexily.

Meet someone? Now that gave him pause. Kaiba hadn't tried to meet anyone in a while. Specifically, since that little shit of a chauffeur's son had shoved him out of the closet and into the bright lights of the press. Cynical as he was even then, he hadn't thought it necessary to do background checks on his employees' children. Now he did.

So three years. Three years without any real attempt at a relationship. A couple of dates for publicity spin, that was all. One tawdry, pathetic fumble for some paparazzi and then Kaiba had become more reclusive than ever.

Dionysus was leaving the dance floor. He was passing the Dark Magician Girl off to Harry Potter. He was heading outside – where there were marquees of drinks, food, and of course, there was the outdoor swimming pool.

Kaiba watched him, a growing feeling of anxiety gnawing at him somewhere between his stomach and, well... Other parts. He hadn't felt this in a while. That awful, wonderful rush of should-I shouldn't-I, could-I would-he-notice? If he didn't move, in a moment he would lose Dionysus in the crowd.

This was probably a mistake.

Still.

Kaiba found himself standing up and wading into the carnival mass of bodies.

Breathe, just breathe, just breathe, Jounouchi told himself. He'd fought his way through the crowd, to the very edge of the garden party. He'd stumbled once or twice on a near-hidden tombstone, and utterly failed to be terrified by the demon who sprung out at him from behind a bush.

He had to hand it to the Kaibas, they sure knew how to throw a party. Pity that they didn't do it more often. Still, Mokie was a sweet kid, and had personally invited Jounouchi last time they'd bumped into each other in a bar, over a month earlier.

But he hadn't liked what Mokuba else had implied at the time. There was a certain wiggle to his eyebrows when Mokuba said maybe he and Kaiba would finally make up their old grudge if they just hung out like pals. There was also the fact that when Mokuba said it, he phrased it "finally make out" before giving a coy, "Oops! Make UP."

Little snot.

Him and Kaiba would never get past the old days. It didn't matter how mature they got, how well set up Jounouchi was these days with his own damn business (so what if it was a pizza place? He was the boss, damnit). There were too many years of insults there.

Jounouchi did kind of miss the old days.

God, Kaiba used to get so riled up at him. Of course, he always put on that superior, cold front, like he was so above it all and nothing could touch him. Jou knew it touched him. Jou knew that with a few choice words and a couple of faked dumb comments he could wedge himself right in under Kaiba's skin and get that big, beautiful, scornful look.

And god, that used to get him so riled up.

Too bad Kaiba didn't get the same thing out of it. Well, he wouldn't have. Kaiba's scorn was real. Jounouchi knew he was just trash to the CEO, and that he did hate. He hated he could see that dismissal, that loathing in Kaiba's eyes and not something else. Maybe that made him provoke the guy. What? Like provoking people was a crime.

Well, it just about was the way they'd carried on. Once or twice Jounouchi had almost thrown himself at the guy. Honda or Yuug had always leapt in, and thank god, because Jounouchi himself had never been quite sure whether he wanted to punch Kaiba's lights out, or lock lips with him.

So here he was at Halloween. Completely safe behind holiday anonymity, free to do whatever he liked because no one could see his face. He liked his costume, too. Honda had given some shit about it being a dress, and then Jounouchi had given Honda shit about being Harry Potter because he knew the only reason Honda had dressed like Harry Potter was Shizuka's massive crush on the guy from those movies. Poor Honda. He was never gonna get that Shizuka saw him like... Well, a brother.

He'd had to get some air, though. He was used to packed bars and nightclubs, but this was another level entirely. Plus he was sick of things glowing at him and bleeding on him. Halloween was fun, but he was glad it was only for one night.

So here he stood at the very edge of the crowd, in a small tent where the music was not exactly quiet, but did allow you to hear other things. He drummed on the bar while one of the ghostly attendants (they were all ghosts, all dressed in white, which did help to spot 'em when you needed something) mixed him a martini. He could hear crickets somewhere off to the left in a dark mass of trees. He wondered, briefly, how many couples had snuck in there by this point in the night, or if the Kaiba brothers' security had put measures in place to stop that. It was a warm night, for autumn.

He knew Seto Kaiba was standing five metres behind him, watching him order.

The barman put Jou's drink down, gracefully plonked a green olive in, and pushed it towards Jou. Jou picked it up, and turned around. His mask saved him the need to make or fake any expression. Behind it a small smile played on his lips, but that smile would never been seen by anyone. He just had to keep looking and not stare away.

Eventually, Kaiba nodded a hello. He sauntered up to the bar and after a moment, he said to the bartender, "One of those looks good."

Kaiba stood next to him while the bartender mixed the drink.

Jounouchi felt like there was some move he ought to make, but he couldn't. Frankly, Kaiba was amazing. Jounouchi wondered if Mokuba had dressed him or if the guy's own bondage streak from back in the boots-and-trenchcoats days was making a resurgence.

He was a black dragon. Black boots, just a hint of low heel. They curved right up above his knees. The pants above them were a rouched leather, tight as hell and designed to look like scales. The pattern had some kind of black glitter smeared along it, enhancing the scales effect. His shirt was black mesh, almost see through but not quite, just enough to tease. It went down his arms, was laced up the sides, and again was not quite black but had a smoky, glittery sheen to it. Kaiba's face was half-covered, the pout of hip lips, generous to mean from moment to moment, and the curve of his nose were just visible. Above that his mask took over, a black, leathery material that curved up across his forehead to form massive, spiralling horns that shot upward.

He looked like he'd been ordered from the Duel Monsters Wet Dreams R Us catalogue.

It was extremely distracting.

Kaiba's drink was suddenly served and Jou realised that he had no idea what to do. Kaiba had followed him out of the room. But was he supposed to say something now? Would Kaiba recognise his voice?

"Nice night out," Kaiba said, suddenly.

The bartender had made himself discreet, vanishing to wipe some tables.

Jounouchi merely nodded.

Kaiba seemed to hesitate. "Nice costume," he said.

Jou caught the wince on Kaiba's lips and knew right away the other man was regretting the comment – trite small talk. Jou had done it himself a thousand times.

Jou nodded again.

Kaiba frowned and turned away.

Shit, shit, shit. This whole 'mysterious' thing was not Jounouchi's specialty. He was the good guy, the cute guy, the open-and-smiling guy. Not aloof and quiet.

"Yours too." He felt as though he'd dropped the words, and they'd shattered on the floor. He held his breath. Surely Kaiba would recognise that voice. Did he want Kaiba to recognise it somehow? God, he didn't know. This was like torture. Jounouchi hadn't been this close to Seto Kaiba in years.

Kaiba turned back. That mouth of his, so able to express emotion and yet expressing it so rarely, now looked full, pleased. "Are you enjoying yourself?" The question had a flat intonation, careless – a little too careless. Kaiba's posture screamed "disinterested" and Jounouchi realised with a flush of pleasure that it was the most fake disinterest he'd ever seen.

Jou cleared his throat. "Very much."

He looked down at his glass and realised that short of tilting his head back and pouring it in, he had no way to drink the very suave martini he'd ordered through his full mask. There was a hole for his mouth – a hole like a square bullhorn, just like in a real greek stage mask. Shit. He was such a dumbass sometimes. The only way to get out of it was to make it a joke.

"I'd... Uh, be having a better time if I could eat or drink anything." He knew he sounded sheepish.

Kaiba didn't move – didn't flinch, didn't look around – but the bartender was almost instantly at their side.

"May I suggest a straw?"

Jounouchi nodded and moments later one appeared in his glass thanks to a waiter, proving that their privacy was an illusion.

Kaiba stared hard at him and Jounouchi tried not to flinch. He poked the straw in through his mouthpiece.

Kaiba snapped his fingers. The barman leaned over. "Would you go and see if pavilion two needs extra help?" It was low, discreet, nonchalant, and just like that the man was gone.

This left Kaiba and Jounouchi standing alone, each feeling anonymous, in an empty tent full of black and orange roses and white tables.

Jounouchi gestured to one of them with an open palm.

Kaiba immediately moved to sit, although it wasn't really sitting. It was a kind of careful sprawl; relaxed, but posed. Jounouchi wondered if this was a deliberate, for his benefit, or a habit from years of media practice.

"That's some service," he said quietly. He was pleased with the comment. It was almost a compliment, but left it completely ambiguous as to whether he knew who Kaiba was or not.

Kaiba merely sipped his drink.

This was painful. It was delightful. Jounouchi was afraid to say too much, to let the conversation get to the point where he was recognised, which would surely be the point that Kaiba left.

The two sat in silence, and the silence seemed to grow. Jou thought he might have to slide himself through the tension just to get to Kaiba.

Eventually Kaiba, almost to the bottom of his martini, said, "So why Dionysus?"

Jounouchi grinned behind his mask, pleased that Kaiba guessed his bizarre costume. "Well..." He paused. "I didn't think there'd be another here."

"Not that I've seen," Kaiba said.

"You're a dragon," Jounouchi offered. He grinned even more to himself – it was such an old-style Jounouchi comment, the kind of fatuous commentary he used to make just to see Kaiba enraged.

Kaiba merely nodded and Jou couldn't tell if it had gotten to him.

"Any particular reason why?"

Kaiba frowned. "I suppose you could say that this particular costume seemed intimidating enough that people would leave me alone."

"Would you like to be alone?" Jounouchi held his breath. He knew the answer to the question already, which was why it was such a gamble. He knew Kaiba wanted him to stay – although who "him" was remained a mystery so far. The question was whether Kaiba would take the bait, rise to the flirtation, admit an attraction.

Would he hate Jounouchi more when he found out who he was – that his old rival (well, perhaps Kaiba never thought of him as a rival, but 'enemy' seemed too strong) had elicited this moment of intimacy?

Even bigger gamble.

"No," said Kaiba.

Jou would have agonised over how much to say. Kaiba simply said no and that was it. The coldness of it sent a shiver down Jou's spine, and not a bad one at all.

"What do you do?" Kaiba said, now. Jounouchi watched those lips wince again. He knew the fun of the flirtation was battling with Kaiba's hatred of inane chatter.

Well, he thought he knew, anyway. He hadn't been this close to Seto Kaiba in years and still he felt as though he knew what pushed his buttons, what he felt. He'd spent years before that always watching the man, then a boy, react. He'd spent years since pathetically distracted by television broadcasts.

God, he'd once bought an issue of People because Kaiba had a photospread in the middle. It was a rare exclusive.

Jounouchi couldn't bear it.

"I own a restaurant," he said.

Kaiba actually seemed interested, here. He cocked his head to one side. "What kind of food?"

Jounouchi grinned and knew that this smile would be heard in his voice. "Pizza, pasta... My favourite kind of food."

"Hunh."

"It's pretty relaxed," Jou said. "Good atmosphere, though," he added after a moment. "And I never go hungry."

Kaiba snorted. Was that the equivalent of a laugh from a regular human? God, this was so difficult. Jou leaned forward, eyes intent on the other man's eyes. They were such an endless blue out here in the night.

"I know who you are," he confessed, even without meaning to.

Kaiba stiffened.

"Relax," Jou tried to reassure him.

"I usually don't."

"That must be exhausting." Jou said quietly, seriously.

Kaiba eyed him cautiously. Finally, he said, "Yes, it is."

He said back in his chair. Jounouchi caught himself watching Kaiba's little movement, and following the line of his skin that showed at his sides, down to the tops of his pants.

He looked back up and realised that Kaiba had seen him see this, and that Kaiba had a smirk on his lips now.

"You've finished your drink," Kaiba said. "Let me mix you another."

He didn't wait for Jou to respond – merely stood and held out his hand for the glass. Jounouchi very carefully did not brush fingertips as he handed it over. That he couldn't take. He'd probably explode out of his pants – not that he was, you know, that hot to go, he just... Yeah. Lust. Jounouchi had to stifle a hysterical giggle – so tightly wound, that last thought had almost made him lose his composure.

Kaiba stepped behind the bar, and Jounouchi followed him. Rather than sit, he stood and leaned both arms on the bar, deliberately adding to that little illusion of closeness between them.

After an initial moment of searching for the right ingredients, Kaiba was lithe and graceful in his cocktail-making. His movements were fluid, confident. Jounouchi wondered how many cocktails Kaiba made for himself. Probably not that lonely.

When Kaiba handed him the martini glass, Jounouchi shrugged, threw back his head and downed the entire glass in one gulp. Some of the martini didn't make it into his mouth, but thankfully it didn't drip out of the mask and Jou didn't look like a total fool. Kaiba's expression was unreadable – he may have been amused, or he may have raised an eyebrow behind that dragon mask. It was impossible to really tell. But Kaiba's eyes met his own for a long moment, and then he mimicked the gesture.

Kanpai. Down the hatch.

To Jounouchi's surprise, the shaker was full enough for another drink each. Apparently they were both planning on getting each other drunk. Well, goody.

"It takes a certain measure of confidence to wear that dress," Kaiba said, sipping this third drink more slowly. There was a smile on his lips that said he was teasing.

"It must take a certain measure of confidence to wear those pants," Jounouchi retorted unthinkingly, then froze. Old habits, god damn them to hell.

Kaiba remained expressionless. "And yet you complimented my outfit earlier."

"I didn't say they looked bad. But did you have someone paint them on you, or did you do it yourself?"

Kaiba's only response was another snort. For a few moments they stood in silence – a silence full of sideways glances, raised glasses, and then, out of nowhere, a shared smile as they both finished their third drink.

"Make me another." Jounouchi said.

Kaiba laughed suddenly. The sound was a harsh bark, surprising.

Jounouchi suddenly began to laugh, too. "Yeah, okay. I guess you don't get people ordering drinks from you very often? Well, I get it all the time."

Kaiba fixed them a fourth martini each.

Jounouchi was now feeling a pleasant fuzziness, which added to his sense of pleasure and danger at the conversation. For one thing, he was glad there was a bar between the two of them so he couldn't do anything like throwing himself at Kaiba.

When Kaiba handed him the fourth martini, their fingertips did brush, and Jounouchi stared down. It wasn't a brush. Neither of them pulled away. Kaiba had done it deliberately.

Damn him.

Jounouchi fumbled and the glass dropped. It managed to roll off the countertop, spilling martini mix everywhere, before it fell to the floor and smashed.

Kaiba shrugged and raised his glass to drink his own martini, but Jou reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Stop," he said.

Kaiba wrenched his own arm back, surprised.

"I'm sorry, I can't stand it. I have to say this to you, now," Jounouchi said. "I just can't do this."

Kaiba suddenly seemed to shut off his expression. His lips froze into a hard line.

"No! I didn't mean that. I mean... Oh, hell, listen. You have to listen to this and then I'll leave you alone," he said. "You're fucking incredible and I just can't stand it. I just wanted to talk to you, and then once you actually started talking to me, I just thought maybe I could lead you off into a dark corner somewhere and it'd be too late by the time you realised. But I can't fucking do it which is probably the biggest mistake of my life."

Kaiba continued to stare at him.

"You're amazingly sexy and just enough of a jackass to be irresistible and I just had to tell you that, okay? But you know me. You already who I am."

Jounouchi reached up to grab his mask and pull it off with all the overly dramatic flare of a semi-drunk declaration of love, but this time Kaiba's hand shot out and grabbed his own.

Before Jou could reveal his face, Kaiba stared and said, "J... Jounouchi Katsuya?"

With his free hand Kaiba reached out and grabbed away the purple theatre mask himself.

Kaiba stared, shocked, bemused, amused, confused.

Staring back at him was the same pair of soft brown eyes, but now re-contextualised in an all-too-familiar face. He was dumbfounded that he hadn't recognised them sooner. The tanned skin, the blonde hair... A weakness for black dragons. Kaiba didn't know whether to be enraged or delighted. Enraged was, however, his default reaction.

He found that his hand holding the mask was shaking. His other hand was still holding Jounouchi's hand.

"Is this some kind of a joke?"

"No!" burst out Jounouchi. "God, no."

"Is this your idea of FUNNY?"

"Why would this be funny?" Jounouchi shouted, clearly exasperated.

Kaiba stared. "Well, I never really understood jokes," he said.

"...Was that a joke?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to let go of my hand?"

"I don't know."

"Okay. Well could you just – "

"Would you shut up, please?"

Kaiba stared. Jounouchi Katsuya. Jounouchi stared back at him and the look in his eyes was positively smouldering. Yeah, he was good looking, but it was hardly compensation for all of those years of being a dumbass.

Kaiba suddenly remembered an argument they'd had, in the middle of some tournament – one of so many the two had duelled at. Kaiba hadn't been playing, he'd been hosting and Jounouchi had followed him around, taunting him, insulting him, insisting it was Kaiba's fear of being beaten that had kept him out. Kaiba had completely lost it. He'd whipped out his dueldisk and given Jounouchi the beating of a lifetime – gamewise, of course. Kaiba had crushed him. And afterwards Jounouchi had grinned, held out his hand... And Kaiba had ignored him and walked away.

Which one of them was a dumbass, again?

Such a feeling of rage at the whole thing, even now. How could Jounouchi be so fucking good looking just standing there now after all those years of loathing?

Kaiba pulled Jou forward by the hand, yanked him most of the way across the bar. He crushed Jounouchi's lips to his own. The two of them fought together to find an angle across the countertop, and suddenly, lips locked, Jounouchi tumbled right over on top of Kaiba, knocking him to the ground.

Kaiba shoved at him, and Jounouchi shoved back. They pushed away from each other, each looking angry, and then they launched themselves onto one another again.

Kaiba pushed Jounouchi down backwards and suddenly found himself straddling the blonde. Christ Jesus Christ.

He rolled off.

"This isn't a joke?" he said again. He wanted to slap himself: he sounded fragile, vulnerable. Fuck it. The first time he'd been remotely interested in someone for so long and it was... Jounouchi. Damn it all to hell. And more confusingly, he wasn't really angry about that. He wasn't repulsed.

No. He wanted him even more.

Jounouchi smirked. "I don't make out with guys for practical jokes, Kaiba."

"So you never hated me, then."

Jounouchi sighed and fell onto his back. He closed his eyes. "Kaiba, the way I felt about you has always been SO the opposite of hate."

"I hated you." Well, Kaiba wasn't about to stop being frank now just because the jackass had... Feelings for him.

Jounouchi didn't open his eyes. "Would you have noticed me any other way? Would you have spoken to me at ALL?"

"Probably not."

"Exactly. And don't say 'I didn't know' or some shit like that, because I didn't want you to know. I was enraged that you didn't know. I hated that you didn't know. I couldn't bear it that you didn't know. I can't stand it that you know now. I can't stand how much I want you."

Kaiba could have said a thousand different things. Instead, he said, "I want you, too."

And then, lips locked together, the two of them were shoving at one another again, pulling at each other's clothes.

"Meet you in my room?" Kaiba offered. He held his breath.

"How will I know which one it is? You've got, like, fifty million."

Kaiba groaned. "I am not staying here. That bartender will be back any moment."

"To see if he can service us in any way?" Jounouchi had a big grin on his face.

"Think you're so funny, don't you?" Kaiba scowled. "I can't..." Kaiba paused, trying to feign composure. "We can't just crawl into the house unseen. There are people here. People with press passes."

"Well, I don't know my way to your bedroom, and don't you have security on that anyway?"

"Fuck," Kaiba said. He grabbed Jounouchi, pulled him close, kissed him again. Softer this time. The blonde was wearing a spiced cologne, warm and delicious. Kaiba ran a hand through the other man's hair. It was so soft.

Jounouchi tugged at Kaiba's shirt and – something began to ring. Jounouchi let out a small, exasperated moan as Kaiba whipped a slim cellphone from somewhere.

"Mokuba? Yes. What? Don't be foolish. No. NO, I'll be there in ten minutes. All right. Really. Yes!"

Damn little brother, always worrying. Kaiba had been gone – what? An hour?

"I have to go," he told Jounouchi. Mokuba's grand midnight ceremony was about to begin and Kaiba was expected to be in it. Curse that kid's love for pomp and ceremony. Where the hell had he got it from anyway?

Oh. Right. Yeah.

Kaiba sighed.

"I have to go now."

The other man's face fell, a look of disappointment that seemed far too deep for a casual, drunken fumbling. Had Kaiba been wrong all along, or had Jounouchi changed in the intervening years – was he grown up now, whatever that meant? Or was he still the same naïve child?

"Come back tomorrow," Kaiba said.

"What?"

"Come back tomorrow."

Jounouchi stood up, his long legs flashing through the white fabric of his tunic. Kaiba bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything truly stupid. This was maddening.

Jounouchi said, "Okay." And then he walked away. Within a minute he was gone into crowd.

Kaiba straightened his clothing. He put his dragon mask back on. Before he left the refreshment tent, he noticed that Jounouchi had left his greek mask lying on the bar. Kaiba left it there.