Love and Understanding
A/N: Hi guys. Guess who's NOT dead? Don't worry, I'll update TWBTS soon. I promise. 3 Consider this my back from hiatus surprise.
"Niisama?"
This voice, while soft, was clear as a bell to Seto. The man looked up from his work, papers haphazardly spread across the desk of his home office and a laptop that sat open and whirring with life, and raised an eyebrow at his little brother.
Mokuba stood in the doorway, his lion's mane of hair pulled back into a sloppy pony-tail, a gesture he often did when hard at work on something to keep it from inhibiting him. His lanky, small-statured body rested against the doorframe and the pose, with his hands behind his back and his big, storm-colored eyes peeking from under his bangs, made Seto look, stare longer than he knew he should have. That boy, Seto thought, seemed to grow too fast. 'Wasn't it just yesterday that he was only ten? Impossible for him to be sixteen already,' he questioned inwardly, letting his eyes travel his brother again.
No, not impossible it seemed, because there was Mokuba, grown to be a fine, attractive young man who hand a penchant for wearing board shorts and his older brother's sweaters which, despite his age, were still much too big for his slender body. The same young man who demanded so much from Seto, yet so little at the same time. The same young man who, just two years prior, came to him and told him that he loved him in ways that more than just a brother would and he wouldn't take no for an answer. The same young man who, to Seto's chagrin, was the object of similar affections from the cold and callous CEO himself.
Despite the internal battle he'd had never to let it get anywhere, Mokuba tore down his walls with a smile and the gentle touch of his hand, and it went further than just the bedroom, rocking Seto to his core, leaving him more vulnerable than he had been in years. And he still couldn't say 'no' to the boy. This attraction for his own brother was so much deeper than carnal desire and so much more confusing. There were days where Seto was sure the boy could shape Kaiba Corporation to fit and fill his whimsies if he just smiled in the elder's direction and said, "Please."
Mokuba, however, asked for nothing. He had no whimsies to fill save for the attention he always seemed to crave from his older brother. Even then, if Seto could not fulfill his needs, he rarely angered and, instead, gave his brother words of patient understanding.
'When did you grow up,' Seto asked silently, eyes still trained on the younger, who waited for acknowledgement like a loyal dog would. Seto flinched inwardly.
"Come in, Mokuba," he amended out loud, gesturing to the chair just opposite him, on the other side of his desk.
The boy was quick to smile, pushing off the doorframe to practically bounce into the office, not taking a seat. All the while, his hands stayed firmly behind him.
"Niisama, do you know what today is," he asked teasingly, sure that Seto was as ignorant as he expected. He always would be, but Mokuba never really minded. For some reason, he found it to be charming.
The elder stared at him, as though the answer would tumble like rain from his storm-like eyes. What was the date? The fourteenth of February. So? Just another day, right?
"Look," he started, voice strained, "You know I'm not good with these meaningful things. Just tell me, would you?"
Rolling his eyes, Mokuba gave Seto a patient smile, pulling a small box of chocolates from behind his back. He placed the box, all red and gloriously heart-shaped, onto his brother's desk. Then he stood back, waiting.
Seto narrowed his gaze at Mokuba, his eyes flicking to the box, that garish little box, on his desk. What on earth did he need with heart-shaped boxes and chocolate? Why woul- Oh.
His eyes widened, gaze travelling back to his little brother. His lover. His life.
It was Valentine's Day.
"Mokuba, I-" he started, but the younger was already on the other side of the desk, pulling him into a hug. He felt his face go red against the boy's chest and for a moment he hated himself. How could he forget?
Thin fingers found their way to his hair and they threaded slowly and surely, back and forth against his scalp. Mokuba always did this to calm him down. This boy, sneaky and mischievous, knew all his little secrets and he never seemed to have the power to fight back.
Soft lips touched his forehead.
"I love you, Niisama."
Seto sighed. Reaching up, he pulled Mokuba into his lap, making sure the boy rested against his chest. He buried his head in the soft, thick hair and closed his eyes, breathing in his scent. Mokuba hummed contently, legs moving to straddle his brother's waist for a more comfortable position.
"I love you too, Mokuba, and I'm sor-"
"It's okay, Seto. You can make it up to me on White Day."
Nodding against his head, Seto pulled him closer and stayed quiet. Moments like these made him understand just why he couldn't say no.