Title: Irresistible
Summary: When the work isn't done on time, Seto has to plead for more time to keep his footing in the Kaiba house. But what does that entail?
A/N: Yes, a gorgeous, noncon, adoptshipping goodness. Poor Seto, he'll do anything to keep his little brother safe.
Oh, and I've been listening to Shakespeare and I haven't got it all out of my system yet, so beware of some awkward wording. It's right in the mind of Shakespeare.
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He'd been working for hours and wasn't aware of the hour.
His tutor had left at least an hour ago, and his professor an hour before him.
The clock was now striking thirty minutes past three, in the a.m.
His work that was left to be completed was still higher in number than the work that had been completed since his professor had first assigned it at half past ten. Who could've expected him to complete all of this before Gozaburo awoke at four? Who ever could have imagined that he would have it done by the time the man paid him his routine visit at thirty minutes past that hour?
A mad man.
He knew sleep would something only daydreamed of by this point.
Who needed chemistry anyway? Games didn't involve explosive chemicals. His future didn't need this. He would hire men to figure out what chemicals would make what to make his games function properly, that's what they're paid for. He would be paid for dreaming up things. For putting the prototypes together by hand. He would be…
In trouble if he didn't get all of this work done in the next hour.
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Naturally, he didn't get all of his work done in that next hour, but the punishment for that was always the same.
"If you don't get it done by tonight, along with the rest of today's work, then don't expect to remain in this house for much longer." The slave driver that was Gozaburo Kaiba would always laugh after he'd say this. It was enough to make Seto's blood boil, but he'd always manage to get his work done by nightfall, and he'd always have a clear conscience when his head finally hit the softness of his pillow.
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Except for that night.
The clock struck eleven thirty in the p.m.
Gozaburo would be coming. Seto could almost hear his footsteps in the hall.
No.
That was his heartbeat.
He stared down at the wooden desk that had three sheets of paper to his right and a stack of at least seventy to his left. Three unfinished pieces of parchment. One of which he knew held the demands and the criteria for a three page essay that was to be finished by his first class at five the next morning.
Unfinished.
Incomplete.
Unworthy.
As he began on his third sheet, just basic algebra equations far below his skill level, the sound of actual footfalls flooded out his heartbeat and the ticking of the clock. It was Gozaburo's butler, the irritating, short man that oversaw his studies.
"Your step father will be here shortly to confirm that you have finished with your work," the man said, smirking when his eyes lit upon the incomplete papers.
"Of course," Seto said, just a whisper of breath.
Inaudible.
He managed to finish the first the page he'd been working on moments before Gozaburo's arrival. His heart sank as he stared at the essay. He knew he shouldn't have lest it for last. His professor had been so kind as to give him a simple topic, write about an emotional reaction to a tragedy, and he'd put it off. He could've written it in less than twenty minutes, twenty minutes he wasted dinning with his step father and his brother, his brother that he was striving to keep a roof over the head of.
He forlornly set the completed equation sheet on top of the stack of seventy and stared down at the essay prompt. He sifted it to the side and looked at the second page. It was just a sheet indicating a reading assignment of ten pages.
Just give me one more hour, father, he thought, not thinking about the words as they passed his mental lips. I'll have it done in an hour, sir. I promise. Just an hour. Please. Half past twelve and I'll have it done, and then I'll retire to my bedroom. There I'll sleep so that I don't look haggard for the guests that will arrive the day after next.
Please. Just another hour and I'll have it done.
But Gozaburo didn't make bargains. He didn't extend time limits. He didn't make offers.
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"He hasn't finished, sir," the butler said with a smile that made Seto's stomach churn.
"He hasn't finished?" Gozaburo echoed with amusement. "Does he not know what the penalty for that is?" He mocked. Seto closed his eyes and answered.
"Dismissal from your family, sir." How he hated to refer to his torturer as a sir.
"Leave me to my step son," he said to his butler. The small man bowed and left without a word, closing the door behind him. "Care to offer any explanations?" Seto opened his mouth to speak, but Gozaburo interjected. "Choose your words wisely. They may be your last in this house. Nothing is stopping me from having your brother roused from his bed and put in the car with yourself and returned to that miserable shack where you came from, you know."
"If you would allow me one hour I could have it done by—"
"That is not what I asked for. I asked for an explanation. I don't want your proposals." He felt a tremor run down his spine, but hid it from his facial expression. He couldn't let the man see his fear.
"I have no excuses or explanations, sir. I failed to be efficient enough to meet the demands of my professors." He would have liked to say that the workload was unfair. He would have liked to say no human being could have completed it all, but he knew better. To make excuses was to be weak. To accept his faults was a strength, as long as those faults were his own to posses. As long as there was no one else to blame.
There was never anyone to blame in Gozaburo's eyes. At least when it involved Seto failing at something. If Seto failed it was Seto's fault. If Gozaburo failed it was his employees' faults.
"So you are saying I should wake your brother and pack him and his shabby belongings into the car?" Seto bowed his head. Always his brother. Always Mokuba. His only weakness.
"According to the terms that we decided upon, yes, sir." He heard the man laugh. "But I request one more hour. I'll have it all done then, I promise you."
"Time isn't free, Seto. Surly I've taught you that much!"
"Then I'll ask for the price I must pay for it." He sighed softly, wondering what that price could be.
"There is nothing you can do to change our contract. In the business world you don't make exceptions or pardons. You know that." Gozaburo was frustrated, but humored at the same time. Seto could tell by his voice. He enjoyed hearing the boy plead with him, he did detest greatly, however, how ignorant he made himself sound in the process. How he acted as though he knew nothing of his previous teachings.
"I do, sir. But there must be something I can do. What will the world think if they heard that you turned me out because I couldn't complete all of my work."
"You agreed not to tell anyone, even if I had you removed!"
"You told me that it is fine to breech a contract when limits become too incontinent and the price to pay for it is no longer dear. There isn't anything you can do to me outside of this house, and if you throw me out I will destroy your good name. You're breaking laws. I'll tell them…If you don't allow me to pay for an extra hour to complete these two assignments." He heard Gozaburo begin to laugh, but he didn't know why. The tone was strange. It wasn't humor, it wasn't amusement. It was something else.
Unknown.
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A/N: Don't ask why they're talking so strange, I haven't a clue. This is just blurb writing. I want to see more of this noncom couple and since no one else is doing it I thought I would.
Maybe now you'll all write more! Ha!
HAHA!
Please continue.