A/N: onwards.

Chapter 4.

Mokuba had insisted on a full college experience, forgoing the luxuries for at least his freshman year, and settled down in a dormitory. Going in, the idea of being stuck with a random person over the course of the year felt like the kind of kick in the pants that he wanted, or needed, because it would give him the opportunity to become friends with someone outside his normal circle.

That thought was tossed out the window in the first two days. His roommate (who's name Mokuba hadn't bothered to remember, and simply referred to as 'Asshole') was loud, rude, and invasive. His things were constantly being moved or going missing. His roommate would come in at all hours of the night, have loud, overtly sexual Skype calls with his girlfriend, and when Mokuba did try to tell him to be quiet, he would get:

"If you don't like it, why don't you just go buy the diploma, Kaiba?"

Mokuba had just stopped trying after the first few weeks. He kept to himself and his small desk on his half of the room, usually with his headphones plugged in and music turned all the way up. It was the only way to get work done, especially when he was still trying to continue to fill his role as honorary Vice President and representative remotely.

It had never been pressed upon him to uphold his position. What was more important, Seto had told him, was that he made use of the time at college. Deep down, Mokuba knew that his brother hadn't gotten that kind of experience, nor necessarily needed it. Sometimes, when he stared blankly at CC'd e-mails from public relations or marketing, he wondered what kind of person his brother would have been like while living in the cramped dormitory with such an obnoxious roommate.

And Mokuba would roll his eyes, going back to the e-mails, because it always dawned on him that Seto had lived with a slovenly, whiny, demanding roommate that he called a brother for eighteen years and hadn't strangled yet. Maybe it was an odd comfort just to an overactive imagination of seeing Seto hustling around the campus, Mokuba considered.

With the semester almost up, and Mokuba felt like he was racing against to finish up papers he didn't want to write, their topics so mundane and trivial, while studying for exams that were going to be a chore. He figured that this all would be easy—that his hectic worklife experience would reflect well here, but he felt like college was a regressive study in how all these things played out. His workplace knowledge didn't translate the way he wanted it to. Except for the deadlines...

He had to finish up this paper. Had to. His fingers were furious over the keys, knowing he'd forgotten about it. He'd put it aside for so long just because the publicity announcements for KaibaCorp were so much more interesting. The music was even going his way, a ripping guitar solo thudding through his heart and twitching into his fingers, each line appearing with a smug satisfaction and...

His headphones were ripped out.

"What the hell!"

Mokuba whipped around, hands slammed on his desk, to meet eye to eye with Asshole, a skinny girl in a sequin halter top, who wasn't his girlfriend, behind him. "I've been yelling at you to get out."

"It's my room too, you know."

"Yeah, don't care. I've got some business to uh...conduct," Asshole said, wrapping his arm around the girl's waist while she was giggling.

The laptop was unplugged and shoved in a book bag, his headphones also shoved inside. His eyes never left Asshole, or more importantly, his date.

"What the hell are you staring at, rich-boy? Get the fuck out."

Mokuba flung the book bag over his shoulder and sauntered by, sneering. "I feel bad for your girlfriend. I'd get yourself tested when you're done, Miss." Mokuba said, mostly looking her over with sympathy, sure that she was unaware that she was 'the other lady'. It didn't make him feel any better to say it, but it came out regardless.

"Thank you so much for the concern! Just what I'd expect from a faggot's brother."

Mokuba froze at the door, trembling, before looking back at the smug expression on Asshole's face. Everything went red, and he threw out a sucker punch, connecting with skin. Seconds later, he was shoved against the door and popped in the face with a quick jab. The taste of copper flooded between his teeth. His knee shoved between Asshole's and shook his footing and shoving him away.

The girl stood back, her hands out to stop them, but Mokuba was already done. He left, slamming the door behind him. As he stomped through the halls, he was fuming. When he reached the stairs, it had mellowed to annoyance with revenge in mind, planning to tell an RA.

By the time he was walking through campus, it had dropped to just being upset. It was one thing to insult him, or his name, because it was an abuse he could endure. Bringing Seto, his nii-sama, into it? That was a cause he always wanted to fight for, even when they were miles apart. Especially that they were miles apart.

Mokuba didn't even know where he was going when he ran out, only realised that he ended up at a coffee shop at the edge of campus when by the acrid and inviting smell. At least it had wi-fi.

He was left dazed and uncaring, standing in line with money crinkling between his fingers and eyes scanning the chalkboard for the daily specials, waiting for his order, like it was going to give him the answers about what had just happened. It was pretty dead at nine o' clock at night.

So when someone tapped his shoulder, he jumped and turned to face the blonde girl with glasses. Familiarity slowly dawned on him, the prickled feeling of who was standing before him raising hairs on the back of his neck, with her name on the tip of his tongue.

She must have read it in his face, giggling. "You don't remember me? Because I remember you, Mokuba Kaiba."

Mokuba searched for a name, and felt a spark over his head. "Rebecca? Rebecca Hawkins?"

Rebecca giggled. "In the flesh. Oh my God, Mokuba, you're all grown up!"

"Me? What about you?" He laughed. He was so enraptured with her standing in from of him that he hadn't heard his name being called until Rebecca pointed at he counter. He jumped, grabbed the coffee, and moved to the side of her as she went up in line. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" She asked.

"Uh...college? But everyone told me you had already done all that," Mokuba said.

They walked together over to a small nook in the corner of the coffee shop. "I did. I'm starting graduate stuff now," she explained. Mokuba was doing math in his head, remembering her to be a little younger than him. Maybe a year or so. The idea of her still being in college, like in the past, was appalling. "What happened to your lip?"

Mokuba ran his tongue along his lower lip, feeling the split down the center. He hadn't noticed it was there, but wasn't surprised. "Me and my roommate sorta...got into it."

Rebecca grabbed her coffee and the pair of them walked over towards a cozy corner of the coffee shop, sitting down. "Yikes, why?"

"He was being a dick, that's all. It's why I'm here. Nothing serious."

Rebecca ran her finger over the rim of her cup, side-eyeing Mokuba because she knew there was more to it but said nothing. She changed subjects. "So what's your major?"

"Business and accounting."

"Not IT or anything like that?" Rebecca asked.

"Nah. That's Seto's gig; I mostly do PR stuff anymore. Felt like it made sense," Mokuba said. He leaned back in his seat and slumped down, a little more comfortable than he had been when he walked over there. The coffee was balanced on his stomach, emanating warmth into his hands. "Plus, I figure the degree will be good to hang up somewhere."

Rebecca laughed infectiously, and made Mokuba start to chuckle. "Hey, you still play Duel Monsters?" She asked.

Mokuba rolled his head over to her. "Does the sun rise in the east? Yeah! And Capsule Chess, too. I know you still play, I've seen, well, not seen but I've heard your name in tournaments and stuff."

Rebecca blushed, but also beamed with pride as she flashed him a victory sign.

"Well, since you probably won't be going back to your room, wanna come to my place and play a couple of rounds for fun?"

Mokuba arched a brow, but hardly hesitated. "Yeah, sure, that sounds great. Haven't found anyone good to duel in a while."

Mokuba hopped up, and Rebecca mimed him while he pulled his book bag over his shoulder. The air was filled with nostalgia as Rebecca struck up more conversation while they headed out and across campus. Finishing the paper never entered Mokuba's mind.

—

Charity felt like a dirty word in the Kaiba household, Joey had come to learn. Not because it was demeaning or beneath either of the brothers, but because, as he had gradually pieced together, it implied separating one's self from their actions. Nothing better than another carefully allocated donation from KaibaCorp, set in one of accounting's labyrinthine spreadsheets, occasionally updated by Mokuba, and then sent to Kaiba's desk quarterly to be signed off on.

Joey had, one day, asked what they should be calling their visits to the children's home "Bringing happiness," Mokuba had told him. When Joey turned to consult Kaiba, there hadn't been a flinch in expression, his opinion deferred to Mokuba's.

None of that changed the fact that Joey knew there was a soft spot in Kaiba's heart for the excursions, whether he admitted it or not. Relegating it to a number on a spreadsheet would have done it a disservice. Charity was not required—happiness was.

For the length of their relationship, Joey had been invited to join them with Mokuba's enthusiasm. When Mokuba went off to college, he had decided that Joey, now more natural around the kids in the children's home, would take his place while he was away.

Even at the time when Kaiba and Joey were fighting, they would come together for the kids at the children's home. It was often times the catalyst to stop an argument in the first place. Mostly because of the tender, more pliable side it seemed to bring out in Kaiba. Joey wondered if Mokuba knew that.

They trips were usually set to meet after work, and Joey always felt like the late one. Kaiba had already been there for an indeterminate amount of time, with his coat and tie pulled off and sleeves rolled up while he interacted the children in one way or another.

So when Joey walked through the door and was greeted with: "Mr. Joey! Where's Mr. Seto?" He had to mask his surprise as he replied: "He ain't here yet?"

The kids sat him down at a short table, one of them bringing up a board game, another dumping paper and crayons on the table. "Nope!"

Joey shouldn't have panicked, but he did. It had been a week since Kaiba had fallen, and he knew there was still potential for things to happen. It was the nature of concussions.

As Joey made paper craft decorations with the kids for Christmas, he thought of the worst possibilities and hid it behind laughter and smiles. He didn't want to get any terrifying phone calls from Isono, and in turn, didn't want to make any terrifying phone calls to Mokuba. He wasn't even sure if that was his job, or if Isono would handle the delicate matters.

All of those considerations were pushed aside when Kaiba walked through with one of the caretakers. His overcoat was in her hands. His suit jacket was pulled off and hanging off of his shoulders.

"Where ya been?" Joey asked, but he was hardly heard over the rambunctiousness of the children who pawed at Kaiba's hands and pulled him towards a corner of the room.

"Work. Something came up."

Joey gave a flat look of 'no shit' before turning back towards the kids. They had sat Kaiba down in a blue chair, some of them dragging up pillows and blankets. An older boy handed Kaiba a hardback book with a bookmark in it. It was slipped out, and the book thumbed open.

"Oh, let me do the voices," Joey said, and he went to stand from his place, but a little girl grabbed his wrist while other children chorused 'nooo!' and snickered. "Ouch, guys, really? Ya were lettin' me do it last time."

Kaiba had read through the last two pages they had left on while Joey interjected, and he let a cool smirk slip away before beginning to read aloud. Joey couldn't blame the kids for wanting Kaiba to be the only one to read to them. He had a hypnotising tone and rhythm in his voice that was neither demanding, nor at the same time, hard to ignore. Even for Joey, who had stopped working on the crafts in lieu of leaning his cheek in his hand and watching Kaiba in a way that could only be seen as a bit lovesick.

Two chapters later, the kids moaned for Kaiba to keep reading, but the caretaker overlooking the kids informed them that it was time for dinner, Kaiba's coat returned to him. Joey reluctantly bid the kids good-bye, hugging a few, as they ran out of the room and to the cafeteria.

Once they tidied up, the couple headed out of the children's home side by side, a blast of cold air hitting them in the face. Joey pulled his coat up close around his neck, and he turned to see Kaiba doing the same thing before reaching for his keys. Digging his scarf out of a coat pocket, Joey draped it over the brunet's neck. Kaiba flinched, but didn't stall Joey's hand while the scarf was wound around his neck. "It's cold," said Joey.

"Yes it is."

"What happened?" Joey asked.

"With what?"

"With work," Kaiba flattened the scarf down into his overcoat when Joey finished up. "Everything okay?"

"Someone collapsed in the labs," Kaiba mentioned.

"Holy shit, they alright?"

Before Kaiba could respond, the doors to the children's home burst open. A little girl, no older than four, ran out with something clutched in her hand. She ran into Kaiba's leg and hugged his knee. "Mis'er Seto...!"

"Iris, get back inside; it's cold," the female caretaker said, having chased after her. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Kaiba."

Kaiba raised his hand to stop the woman. The girl detached from Kaiba, and he knelt down to get a better look at what she was waving in her hand. "For you and Mis'er Joey."

Kaiba took the piece of construction paper, pink, cut in the shape of a heart. "Thank you, Iris."

The caretaker picked up the girl, urging her to wave goodbye. Kaiba stood back up, giving her a wave back. Joey hung over Kaiba's shoulder, getting a look at what they were gifted. The small heart had two stick figures on it, one with blond hair, the other with brown, and they were holding hands. More hearts were above their heads.

"That's totally your white coat, Seto," Joey said, and he pointed to what looked like a cape that the brown-haired one wore. "So...means this is us, ain't it?"

"I believe so."

"Aww, we're hangin' that up," Joey said, and pecked Kaiba on the cheek. He then wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist, and was happy that Kaiba didn't stop him. He even bettered it by knitting his fingers between the blond's.

Joey smiled and asked: "Dinner?"

"No more of Nurse Joey's home cooking?" Kaiba retorted.

"Nurse is off for the night. I'm thinkin'...place down the road? We can walk to it," Kaiba didn't seem swayed. "It'll be nice an' cozy. Prolly jus' me an' you."

Kaiba's hand never strayed from the grip of Joey's fingers, and the blond never pushed it as they walked down the street, though he did lean close for the warmth between them.

Dinner itself was non-descript. A hole in the wall place where they sat in a private corner. Joey had laid the heart cut out on the table for them both to admire.

They spoke hushed to one another, though Joey did most of the talking, complaining about work while Kaiba was no doubt going over work-related e-mails and messages on his phone. Joey didn't mind, the irony wasn't lost on him.

"I was looking at listings for a high rise," Kaiba said at a lull in the conversation. He had set the phone down and away.

"What, thinkin' of turnin' it into somethin'?" Joey asked. Most of his dinner had been wolfed down, and he was nursing a beer. For most of the night, Kaiba had been pushing food around his plate and was more interested in a glass of wine.

"There's a penthouse that just came on the market."

Joey leaned forward. "...what are you gettin' at?"

Kaiba set down his fork and knit his fingers together. "I have considered downsizing."

"'Downsizin'? Ya mean like...movin'?" Joey was a little perplexed. It felt like it came out of nowhere, and the fact that Kaiba wasn't looking him in the eye while announcing this plan made him even more of a skeptic.

"If you want to put it that way," Kaiba said.

"What about the house? You...how seriously you thinkin' about this?"

Kaiba shifted, his shoulders squaring while he leaned back in the seat. Now, he looked Joey in the eye. "I planned on either selling it or finding a secondary use for it. Mokuba is out of the house—"

"—an' comin' back durin' breaks—"

"—and it's been a plan I've always wanted to execute, but never had a reason," Kaiba finished. His hands unfolded and he stole up the wine glass. "Until now."

"Until now?" Asked Joey. "What changed? Mokuba leavin'?"

Kaiba stared across at Joey, brows raising but silent to the answer. His tucked one arm beneath the other, the red wine swirled in the glass. Joey spread his arms in front of him, bearing his chest open and waiting for a response.

Until it dawned on him, and his hands turned to point at his own chest. "Very astute, Joseph," Kaiba said, and mockingly clapped against the glass. "I want you to come with me, perhaps in a day or two, and see what you think of the place."

"Hey, I...look, Seto, I don't know nothin' 'bout nothin' for that kind of stuff and..."Joey was blushing though. Deep down, he really knew what Kaiba meant, he just didn't believe him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Have I ever struck you as the joking type?"

"Only when ya want to be mean," Joey replied. Kaiba rolled his eyes and smirked, but he was shaking his head. "You are serious? So, ya like, okay let me see if I..."

"I want you to move in. With me. In a place that would be ours. And sometimes Mokuba." And all the statements were dotted with a cocky smile that flashed and then fell away.

Joey shook his head through them, somewhere between disbelief and dismay, his hands covering his mouth. "No...no I don't..."

"No?"

"Not 'no'!" Joey's hands slid from his mouth up into his bangs, pushing them up and back. "I...I don't think your makin' this decision at the right time."

"Pardon me if I don't follow."

Joey scoffed. "Don't play stupid, it don't work with ya. The...the you havin' been sick an' all."

"This was something I had already been considering before that," Kaiba said, brushing off the insult. "What's your answer?"

Joey's heart was in his throat, beating so fast and suffocating him. Parted lips said nothing, his hand extended across the table as if to make a point, but he didn't know what there was to say. Kaiba never went into anything without complete consideration of the consequences, and somewhere, Joey imagined there was a pros and cons list that he had drawn up in a private notebook shoved into the back of his office desk. The little, almost computer-type scrawl filling up the pages, leaving no thought without analysis. How many places had Kaiba actually looked at before he found 'the one' he wanted to show Joey? All of this meaning that he had considered Joey, of course he had. And that meant that...

A soft hand landed in his one left extended, thumb brushing along the rough ridges of Joey's banged up hands. It drew Joey out of the run-on of considerations and probabilities. None of which involved a future, but spoke volumes of Kaiba's state of mind. Joey dropped his other hand over Kaiba's, enclosing it. It was cold, with a shudder. The executive was flushed.

Nervous. Kaiba would never admit to it.

Joey pushed his heart from his throat. "Let me—us—look at it. An' then maybe. A'right?"

Their eyes met, Joey searching for that shudder in Kaiba's impenetrable expression. At first, Kaiba was unmoved, not even for the sound of a Mokuba text incoming, until there was a thinning in his eyes, a mock severity that frightened Joey until he noticed the smile. Brief, though powerful when coupled with the squeeze of Joey's hand.

"That sounds like an acceptable agreement," said Kaiba. He pulled back his hand back, regaining his elegant composure.

"You're happy," Joey said.

"I'm content."

"Hap-py. Say it with me," Joey chided. "It's okay to be happy about it. Unless your happy 'cause ya won, in which case, stop bein' a smug asshole 'cause I'm happy, too. Now answer your phone, Mokuba's blowin' ya up."

Kaiba relented to the order, scrolling up through the messages until he reached the top of the unread. A close-up selfie of him with a blond girl, a Duel Monsters field between them.

"Seems as if we aren't the only ones happy right now," said Kaiba. Joey leaned in when the phone was turned towards him.

"Who's he with?"

"Rebecca Hawkins."

Joey searched him memory for the name. "Yugi's grandpa's friend's granddaughter person?" He said, finding his own words convoluted. Kaiba nodded. "So, you think they...?"

"He hasn't said."

"So they are?"

Kaiba frowned. "I doubt it."

"Well, he's got a cut on his lip. Something's happened. Don't think he's goin' around sucker punchin' people," Joey pointed out. "Good for him."

"You're impossible," Kaiba said, and tucked the phone away while Joey was laughing. "I feel as if he'd tell me those details."

"He's a kid in college, he's gonna hide things," Joey mentioned. Kaiba seemed uncomfortable with the idea, and he aggressively stole up the check as it arrived. "Aw, c'mon, Seto, let him have his fun."

"Does it look like I'm stopping him?"

"It looks like you're constipated," Joey mentioned. Bills were placed into the check and the book slammed shut. Joey picked up the heart cut out and displayed it to Kaiba, loving. "You could interrogate him t'morrow, ya know. Tonight, me and you could have some fun, too. I think we've had a pretty good day."

The discomfort in Kaiba lessened with the affectionate distraction. They went to stand, with Joey leaning in to kiss him over the table. A pointer finger was pressed against Joey's lips. "Only if you can wait."

Joey licked the finger. "Not long."

"Until we get home?" Kaiba challenged.

Joey was already heading for the door, beckoning for Kaiba to follow him. So much was on the executive's mind, but Joey had put himself at the forefront. As he was so good at doing. Like magnets so inexplicably drawn to one another

A/N: thank you for reading. Next time, KenSan out!