It wasn't anyone's fault, really.

It just kind of happened.

It happened the way that any relationship fell apart.

At the end of August, Joey left for his first semester of college amidst hugs and promises to call, to visit, and to come home.

"The great thing about being married to you, is that if I ever miss you too badly, I know you're only a phone-call away." Joey had beamed up at Seto with that endless warmth he possessed, and given him one last kiss before driving away.

That night, Seto realized that he and Joey had never before been separated ever since they started their relationship. Business trips had never taken him away for more than a few days at best, and even then he knew that Joey was at home, waiting for him to return. This feeling was different, loathsome, unsettling, and achingly familiar.

Loneliness.


Neither intended for the day they said goodbye to be the last day they talked. Physically apart, they seemed to be completely out of sync. Joey would call Seto while he was in a board meeting or on an important call, then Seto would call him back while he was in class, at practice, out with friends. When they kept missing each other, Seto tried calling him at every conceivable time of day, but his phone was always off, or dead, or muted, or ignored.

Seto's balanced life quickly lost equilibrium when Joey stopped trying to call, and Mokuba felt helpless as he watched his brother's young marriage begin to weaken and dissolve due to solvable silence.

Mokuba had acquired a Fakebook account by now, and he saw as much as Seto did on Joey's page: the pictures, the posts, the parties, the sports games, the all-nighters, and everything else. Seto left no indication that he'd seen any of the posts since he only used his account for business and stalking purposes, but Joey already knew that.

Seto kept trying to call Joey for a week or two after the blond had given up, but soon he'd stopped calling on a daily basis.

In order to answer his body's needs and distract himself from any mental or emotional distress, he found a new recreational outlet for himself.

It started with the ice wyrm. It was simply too beautiful, with the gradient of frosty blue and icy lilac along the knotted curvature of the artificial dragon penis for Kaiba to resist it. With him, he could create an intense experience that well simulated the presence of a living partner, one out of his wilder fantasies he'd buried in his subconscious long ago.

Then came the faery dragon. The colors were evocative, the textures deliciously varied, and the elegant shape of it alone made him salivate. Kaiba used it for gentler sessions of drawn out, bittersweet ecstasy on nights of crushing emptiness, when his loneliness overwhelmed him like a tidal wave and his soul needed neurochemical solace more than anything else.

Then there was the night drake. It was a monstrous toy, in both shape and size, brutal enough to elicit screams of both pleasure and pain, depending on how it was used. Kaiba used that one to punish himself, and it was while using this toy that he'd often scratch his thighs, dig his fingernails into his skin and drag them upwards to leave long red marks, relishing the deeper, more gratifying sensations the pain brought him. And if he bled a little, oh well.

He had a very stubborn justification for this behavoir: Joey wasn't here to stop him, and if Joey was here, he wouldn't need this anyways. But Joey was gone. Kaiba'd been left alone, so Joey couldn't fault him for this, any of this.

Assuming he ever found out.

Which he wouldn't.

Because it wasn't his business.

Not anymore.


Mokuba had contemplated asking this question for days now. He'd puzzled over how he should phrase it, when he should ask it, what intonation he should give it. Now, as he and his brother drove home from a dinner at a four-star restuarant that celebrated Mokuba's recent test scores and Seto's birthday, he finally posed it.

"Will Joey be coming home for winter break?"

"How the hell should I know?" Seto snapped without hesitation. His response was so immediate that Mokuba wondered if Seto had been wondering the same thing.

After a few tense moments, Seto dropped his hand on Mokuba's shoulder to show that his brother wasn't the one he was angry with. Mokuba looked up at Seto, but those crystal blue eyes were still fixed on the road ahead.

"I'm sorry, Seto," the younger Kaiba murmured compassionately.

"Don't apologize for something that's not your fault," Seto promptly chastised.

"I just mean, I'm sorry that you're hurting." Mokuba took Seto's hand from his shoulder and held it, hoping it provided him with comfort. Seto didn't speak, but his expression shifted slightly to something a little less angry and a little more pained.

Seto held Mokuba's hand the rest of the way home.


The one instance that Seto received a text from Joey was nearly two months later, three days before he planned to return home for Christmas break.

"I'll be home late Saturday night."

Seto tossed his phone onto his bed without responding and took out his laptop to browse a website that specialized in fantasy dildos-his personal favorite.

It couldn't hurt to buy himself an early Christmas present to get him through the imminent drama that would accompany Joey's return. Thank goodness he was rich enough to have no issue with paying the additional fees for next-day delivery.


Joey felt agitated when he drove up to the gate of the property that had been his home for well over a year now. He hadn't heard back from Seto, so he wasn't sure if the staff would be expecting him. They let him in, though, and when he parked his car and came inside, some lights were still on and Mokuba was waiting for him.

"Hi Joey," his brother-in-law greeted with a tired smile. "It's good to see you again." A polite greeting, but he didn't come close for a hug.

"Hey kiddo, how've you been?" Joey asked, smile broad as he adjusted his hold on his bag.

"I've been doing well. Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

"Come on, there's food in the kitchen." Mokuba began leading the way, as if he thought Joey'd forgotten where it was.

"Great. How's school been?"

"It's been good. I skipped a grade, but I don't regret it. It's challenging, but not too much for me to handle."

"That's really good to hear." The blond hesitated. "How's your brother doing?"

Mokuba didn't look at him as he answered, "You shouldn't be asking me that Joey." He lifted his face to reveal a stormy grey glare behind long bangs.

"Look Mokuba, it's more complicated than--"

"How many times have you two talked since you left?" Mokuba challenged, his expression familiar to Joey because of how many times he'd seen it on his brother's face. When Joey didn't answer, he huffed and said, "You'd better have a damn good explanation for this, Joseph."

"Hey, watch your language!" Joey scolded, as if Mokuba were his own little brother.

"Those are his words, not mine." Mokuba crossed his arms. "And you're not the boss of me. You know where the kitchen is, so get something to eat then find a guest room to crash in for tonight. Seto's asleep already, and he wouldn't let you in anyways." Mokuba turned in the direction of his bedroom and began to walk away.

"Goodnight, Mokuba!" Joey called after him in a desperate attempt to part on good terms.

"Goodnight, Joey." Mokuba stopped to look over his shoulder. "If I were you, I'd start preparing my explanation now." He turned back and resumed his stalking down the hall.

Joey sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Good job, Joey," he muttered sarcastically. "Just… great job screwing that up." And with that, Joey sighed and resumed his trek to the kitchen.