Author's Note: Okay, so I need to tap into what people want to get the readers and reviews that I want so far as Seto-centric fiction goes. I know a lot of people like Prideshipping (SetoxYami) and a lot of people, including myself, like Puppyshipping (SetoxJounouchi) - though I'll admit I've taken quite a liking to Rivalshipping (SetoxYugi) as of late.

I don't think I would ever write a Prideship fic, though I feel ready to tackle the Puppyship having just distantly dealt with Seto/Yugi in a non-yaoi fic I recently finished. I don't know how long this fic will be, but I'm going to do my best with SetoxJou. I would base their behaviour on my numerous gay friends but they are all pansies and have nothing in common with either Seto or Jou so… I'm out on a creaking limb here. Oh and I decided that Seto should be Uke… just to break away from the general trend I've been seeing a lot of around here.

Disclaimer: All characters are the brain children of Kazuki Takahashi, they do not belong to me.

Warnings: Swearing.

Summary: Seto is coaxed into accompanying his brother and Yuugi's gang on a camping trip. How will he cope with socialising around open fires, toileting in a field, skinny-dipping in the river and most nauseatingly of all, sharing a tent with a mutt?

Chapter One

Accidents With Buckets

Seto was done for the night. He noticed it was a relatively early finish compared to usual as he sank into his squeaky leather chair, eyeing the wall clock that he didn't normally have a breath of a moment to even glance at. His long, white fingers ran carelessly through his hair. It was eleven o' clock in the evening and Mokuba would have gone to bed by now. He had recently given up on waiting for his big brother to come home, a change in routine which Seto felt bad for. Even though he was constantly disappointing Mokuba and himself with his failure to arrive home in time, he had still enjoyed carrying the little body to bed from the various places he'd fall asleep in; the game room couch, the fold-out bed in the living room but more often than not the squishy chair in the downstairs office.

Sighing heavily, Seto languidly shuffled and arranged the piles of paper on his desk into a presentable state, swept all the charts and spreadsheets he still needed to go over into his metal briefcase, flicked some croissant crumbs off the keys of his laptop before clicking the light out on his desk lamp. He loomed from the darkness of his office into the softly lit corridor, safely locking the door behind him with a different golden key for three different locks, topping that off with a spoken command into a security system that only his or Mokuba's voice could undo. He turned without so much as an acknowledging nod toward the night guard before sweeping through the maze of corridors in the direction of the stairwell.

His shoes clipped smartly on the polished floor as he made his way along, stopping only briefly to gaze into the wall of aquariums he had installed into the offices of his most senior and reliable workers. A treat, he had decided. His goldfish and koi carp at home calmed him greatly; he felt the creatures would benefit his most trusted workers, as well as wooing them into a deeper state of devotion to their employer. A small pocket of extremely loyal workers was worth so much more than ranks upon ranks of grunting temps who only worked at his corporation for the money and brief stint of experience to boost the calibre of their curriculum vitæ.

His eyes lingered a moment longer on a handsome, fist-sized goldfish before he carried on his way. He could see the serenely lit staircase sliding into view, but he stopped, a wary tang of surprise flickering under his skin. He could see the back-end and elbow of a worker around the corner, grumbling as he mopped the floor. Seto frowned. Such work should have been completed hours ago. Seto had never seen the cleaning staff actually doing their job before, because they were meant to finish so much earlier than he would normally leave his office. With a snarl he marched over to confront the slacker and to promptly fire him.

'Why on earth are y– Jounouchi?'

A mop of straw hair shivered as Katsuya turned to face Seto, his brow plastered with more hair that had stuck to his sweat. His cheeks were flushed; his bare forearms were tense and riddled with protruding veins from his toil, his breath was ragged and his eyes blazed despite the red rims and dark rings.

'What are you doing here, bonkotsu?'

'I work here, cunt. Don't you even know who you employ?'

Seto faltered at the harsh language, perhaps a little shocked. His face soured. 'As your superior I demand an apology for your insolent language immediately.'

'Sorry, your Highness.'

Seto fumed. Nothing he did could ever curb the bare-faced crudeness of this idiot. Not even those who loved Katsuya could tame him.

'So why are you so surprised to see one of your own employees, Majesty?'

'I employ other people to hire brainless grunts like you to do this kind of pathetic work.'

Katsuya snarled, gripping the handle of the mop so tightly that his knuckles went white. His eyes flickered as he growled at Seto.

'This pathetic work is damned, fucking hard work. You would notice very quickly if you didn't have people like me to do this job – your floors would be filthy and there would be scrunched up paper and food wrappers all over the place. Do you have any idea how messy those people are?' He brandished his mop in the direction of the aquarium offices. 'They don't give a damn! Sometime I feel like emptying a bag-load of their own rubbish all over their desks –'

'Shut up!'

Seto was glaring furiously at Katsuya, feeling glad that at least one of his hands was occupied by his briefcase – he had enough sense to control the actions of a single murderous fist, but a pair might have been too much.

'So your work is hard? Fine, but you're too slow at it! I have never seen a member of cleaning staff working so late before. Why are you still here?'

Katsuya huffed and resumed his mopping.

'They put five of us on each floor, I'm one of the five who were cleaning this floor tonight, but the other four bailed. They wanted to go to a gig or something, but I said no. I can't afford to cut hours anyway, I need the money…'

'So you have effectively taken on the workload of five.'

'Well... I guess–' Katsuya suddenly felt nervous. Surely he couldn't be blamed for anything? From one angle it was almost as though he had stayed behind out of dedication to the job.

'Give me the names of the other four. I shall see that they are dealt with accordingly.'

Katsuya spluttered in surprise, then reeled off the names of the others, thrown by the professional attitude that Seto had suddenly slipped into, complete with blank eyes and a bored face.

'Um…' he glanced around him. He only had one last stretch of corridor to mop. 'I'm nearly done now anyway.'

Seto followed his gaze over the floor, which wasn't particularly dirty anyway. 'You can leave it. Go home.'

Katsuya's face lit up, his tired eyes flared with relief and warmth. He grabbed his mop and bucket enthusiastically.

'Hey Kaiba, maybe you're human after all – fancy that!'

He turned to head down the stairs. Seto checked his watch and sighed, pushing his spare hand over his face. He was so tired already and it wasn't even that late.

'ARGH!'

A shout, a snap and a splash jolted him out of his mental lapse. He glanced down the stairs towards the shouts of pain from Katsuya and gasped as he saw the idiot crashing awkwardly down the vast flight of stairs, a split bucket tumbling after him and small tide of dirty mop-water trickling down step by step. Seto heard a few crunching noises before he regained control from his shock-ridden body. He let go of his suitcase and darted down the stairs after Katsuya, avoiding the water.

'Bonkotsu, you idiot!' he snarled. Jounouchi did not reply from where he had landed at the foot of the staircase, crumpled like a broken doll.

Seto reached the bottom and flew to kneel beside Katsuya.

'Jounouchi?'

There was no response. Seto growled and harshly slapped Katsuya's face, barking at him once more to wake up. A few more slaps and Seto finally saw a glinting sliver of deep brown appear under Katsuya's eyelid.

'Jounouchi! Fool! Your neck should be broken. Idiot, trying to run down a wet stairs! What were you thinking?'

'Don't – think–'

'No you don't think, that's your problem.'

'I don't think – that – w-was meant – to ha-happen…'

'Really.'

He glared down at Katsuya, whose face was marred with blood from his mouth and nose. He was shivering wildly from the shock and he had yet to make an attempt to get back on his feet. With a flickering eyebrow Seto intended to grab Katsuya's hand and pull him back onto his feet, but the whisper of a memory tickled his mind. He recoiled sharply from Jounouchi, gazing unseeingly at both their hands. His own was smooth and delicate, with long fingers. Katsuya had thick, weathered hands, with tracks of ropey veins running clearly over the surface. Seto leaned forward slightly, staring hard with parted lips. Katsuya had hands just like Roland.* He brushed his fingertips lightly over the veins, before turning the hand over to investigate the palm.

'Kaiba?'

Seto flinched, dropping Katsuya's hand as though jabbed with a knife.

'I think I should get going –'

Seto blinked at Katsuya's words before his face returned to a hard mask. He rose from the floor and brushed his knees off, gazing indifferently as Katsuya tried to sit up. He was grumbling to himself between hisses of pain but still he continued in his mission to return to his feet. It was not until he placed his weight upon one arm that he cried out and collapsed once more onto the cold floor.

'Kaiba I think–'

'–that you've broken your arm, yeah.'

'Fuck…'

Seto straightened his jacket out, fiddled with his cuffs and smoothed his lapels down. A final flick of his chestnut hair and he looked down once more upon Katsuya with a curl of disdain at the corner of his lip, considering his next words carefully. Finally he spoke in a slow, cautious tone.

'It's too late to call the K.C. medical office; there won't be anyone there now. I have a private doctor, who will come whenever summoned. I suggest that I take you to see him.'

Katsuya looked confused. He gazed at the broken bucket and dirty water.

'You are my employee, therefore you are my responsibility. Your accident happened at your place of work during your… somewhat unofficial working hours; nonetheless you are entitled to free care in such a circumstance. It was in your contract, if you ever even read it.'

Katsuya gaped at him with scrunched eyes, obviously lost in a memory that he wouldn't find. A slight shake of his head confirmed Seto's suspicions, at which he huffed and shifted his weight onto his other foot, checking his watch once more.

'So how long will it take for him to get here?'

Seto glanced at Katsuya through his hair.

'Who? The doctor? He won't be coming here; his contract states that he is required only to take calls from the Kaiba Manor. If I or my brother get into trouble elsewhere it is up to the bodyguards and K.C. medics to deal with it. I will have to take you to my manor in order for him to deal with you.'

Katsuya went pale.

'Your manor?'

Seto had to half drag, half carry Katsuya. It was incredibly tough going; they had to take one more flight of stairs to reach the first lift, three of which they had to take in order to reach the ground floor where Seto had to drop Katsuya on the floor to gain his breath back. On the way he had expelled an entire reserve of eyeball daggers at his night guards, all of which had stopped to offer their help, only to recoil and dart back to their posts when Seto barked at them.

Katsuya was also exhausted from their journey down the tall building. His arm was throbbing now, the pain emitting from it sent both his hands into a quake that was so severe that it looked incredibly fake. His wan face shone thickly with sweat. The dried blood, which Seto had so charitably decided not to offer to wipe off, had cracked and made his skin feel dry and stretched.

'There yet…?' he mumbled from the floor.

'Nearly,' huffed a red-faced Seto. He was feeling hot and bothered and now felt wide awake. Getting to sleep tonight was going to be even more difficult than usual. Gathering his rapidly diminishing strength, he hoisted Katsuya to a crippled standing position, taking almost all of the weight. Sighing heavily he ploughed onwards, biting back with scathing taunts as Katsuya hissed at him for 'making him feel even more shit'.

Fifteen minutes later Seto had all but bundled Katsuya along the backseat of his car like a large bag of shopping.

'Argh! Watch it, you gobshite!'

'As your boss I resent that and will take action against you in the near future.' Seto slammed the car door shut with twice the necessary force and ruthlessly ripped the driver's door open, sliding in and slamming that with just as much aggression. The air in the car prickled with pulsating testosterone, it was thick like the smell of burning rubber.

Seto took a short moment to massage his sinus before flipping open the glove compartment, reaching in and extracting a small case. Katsuya watched as Seto opened the case to reveal a pair of designer spectacles, sliding the wide arms through his hair to hook behind his ears. The case slipped shut and was tossed carelessly on the front passenger's seat. Seto shifted around to face Katsuya.

'It's roughly a forty-minute drive to my manor. Put your seatbelt on. Don't bleed on anything. Don't speak, don't fidget, don't – what?'

Katsuya had been frowning at him with a curious expression, slackened by the haze of pain. He lifted an eyebrow.

'What? My glasses? I need them to drive.'

Katsuya blinked and nodded. His greying eyelids were heavy, his eyeballs were gritty and the sounds around him wound down like the final note of a dying music box. His exhaustion and pain had nullified his raging testosterone and now only Seto's irritable aura filled the small space of the blue-lit interior, but that too was quickly dissipating like cigarette smoke. Both young men were tired, neither enjoying themselves nor looking forward to what was to come.

Katsuya's head flopped forward as his weariness gained control and he mumbled into his chest, ignoring Seto's own mumbles about 'forgetting the goddamn briefcase'.

'Man, I really hope this doesn't ruin our holiday…'

Seto turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled into life.

'Our holiday?' There was a hint of bemused interest in his voice.

'Yeah,' Katsuya continued, stuttering through a yawn, as they pulled away from the vast Kaiba Corporation tower. 'The camping trip, Mokuba said that you were okay with it.'

'Camping trip? What camping trip?'

'The fuckin' campin' trip, you dick–' he paused to yawn again, '–we're gonna be leaving pretty soon. Mokuba said that he asked you and that you were both coming, but we're still fuzzy on the details. To be honest I'm surprised you said yes.'

'WHAT?'

*The 'whisper of a memory' relates to events that took place in a two-part fic called 'Open Ether'. All of my Yu-Gi-Oh fics are related to one another and events that occur within them are considered canon within other fics. More reference will be made to 'Open Ether' in later chapters. In a wrist-twisting form of self-promotion, I encourage you to read the aforementioned two-part fic... :p

Author's Note (Original): I think this fic is going to be a slow burner. I want to make it as believable as possible without disappointing anyone.

Please let me know what you think! I am quite nervous about tackling such an established ship; please let me know if you enjoyed it, if you are looking forward to more, etc. Thanks!

Author's Note (6-Feb-11): This chapter has been revised to eliminate spelling/grammar mistakes and general typing errors. Some paragraphs and sentences have been cut-down or extended to improve the flow of the narrative.