Control

Seto found a bench with a clear cover around it, probably meant to protect from the rain. The clear walls let Duke keep his eye on Seto while Seto stayed partially shielded from the wind. He pulled out his phone and calculated the time back home. It would be late in Japan, around two in the morning, but Seto called anyway.

"Niisama?" Mokuba answered.

Seto had chosen a video call, which Mokuba accepted. But darkness filled his screen, and he assumed Mokuba had been sleeping.

"Sorry it is late."

"I just went to bed. What are you doing?"

"Just finished touring this place. Thought I would check in."

The light clicked on, the lamp on Mokuba's beside table. Seto smiled at the state of his brother's hair. He didn't often see it before Mokuba tamed it each morning, but from the level of dishevelment, it was clear Mokuba had not just turned in.

"Is it nice?"

"If not a little impractical. There are fifteen floors to learn."

Mokuba ran a hand over his eyes and then back through his hair. His fingers snagged, and Mokuba rolled his eyes and quit trying.

"The wedding is soon," Mokuba said.

"I met the prince last night."

Mokuba's nose wrinkled at Seto's tone. "That bad?"

"He has the maturity of a cocker spaniel."

That made Mokuba smile. "Was he at least nice?"

Seto was about to answer when the elevator doors opened. He glanced over to see that very cocker spaniel walk out, greeting Duke with a smile and a hand on the shoulder. Another guard, who Seto could only assume to be Tristan, followed behind him.

Duke pointed casually over to where Seto sat, and Seto considered ending the call, but knew Mokuba had to be introduced eventually.

"Hey, lovebug."

Seto turned to watch Joey sit on the bench beside him, leaning into the shot so he could see Mokuba.

"Who's the kid?"

"My brother, Mokuba," Seto said. "He only speaks Japanese."

Mokuba gave a little wave along with his tight smile. Seto translated so Mokuba could follow the conversation and know what was said about him. When he finished speaking to Mokuba, Joey was staring with buggy eyes.

"Man, that's a weird language."

"Certainly you have heard Japanese before," Seto said, and again, translated for Mokuba.

"Yeah, in those Kung Fu movies with the subtitles."

"Those are Chinese," Seto told him.

"Basically the same thing," Joey said. "Why're you on the roof?"

"I am making a private phone call."

Seto relayed the last few sentences to Mokuba, who did a fairly decent job of keeping the disgust off his face. Maybe being on a video call made it harder to recognize the subtle twitches Seto was used to seeing when Mokuba became annoyed. It would probably be a while before Seto would be able to see them again.

"I'm not trying to sound rude or nothing, but isn't that what you were wearing yesterday?" Joey asked, giving Seto's outfit a pointed stare.

"When you are forcibly kidnapped from your home, you are not given much time to pack," Seto said. Mokuba seemed to understand Seto's tone, because his face darkened.

"What do you mean you were kidnapped?"

"You have met me, your highness. Do you really think I am here willingly?"

"Well yeah. You are going to be royalty in six days. Who wouldn't want that?"

"A citizen of a country you have had a hand in bombing for the past five years." Anyone who has met you.

"I am a prince, an American prince."

"And I am a Japanese businessman. I did not ask for this."

Mokuba asked what Seto had said, so Seto gave him a quick version of the conversation. He wanted Joey to leave so he could go back to speaking his own language and talking to his brother half a world away.

But Joey settled in on the bench. Seto wondered how much of a slight it would be for him to walk away.

"Were you seriously kidnapped?" Joey asked.

There wasn't much of a point in hiding that fact, and it felt easier to admit than to pretend Seto was here of his own volition. He would get lost in that lie too easily, only to get caught a few days in.

"Yes," and then a quick translation.

Joey huffed and crossed his arms. "No wonder you're so awful. I mean, not like physically. You've got that going for you, but your personality could use some elbow grease."

When Seto translated that to Mokuba, he lied.

"If you dislike like me, send me back."

"I like your face and your body. I haven't seen too many Japanese who look like you."

"You do not want to marry me if we will not get along."

"I'll get along just fine. It's not like you'll be able to hurt me or anything."

Mokuba offered to hang up, but Seto asked him to stay on the call. Maybe once Joey got the conversation out of his system, he would leave. It would have been the respectful thing to do, although Seto didn't think he could count on respect from Joey.

"I do not want to be here," Seto said. He kept his gaze on Mokuba while he spoke to soften the impact of the words. Seto hoped that even someone as obtuse as Joey would understand Seto had a life back home he had been dragged from. Even Joey had to understand.

"You're helping to end a war."

"I hardly care."

"Come on, I'm not that bad," Joey said. He scooted over on the bench so his arm brushed Seto's, and Seto pulled away. Mokuba's eyes widened a touch at the exchange, but in the small picture of the two of them on the phone, Seto saw Joey's expression turn suspicious.

"We're getting married," Joey said. "I don't care if there are personal boundary issues in Japan. Here in America, engaged couples touch."

Instead of answering Joey, Seto chose to translate to Mokuba, at which he had been doing a poor job.

"Have you told him?" Mokuba asked.

"I think he is about to figure it out."

"You're here," Joey said. "You're going to have to suck it up and just accept that we're getting married. If you won't let me touch you, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing all this on you."

"You are."

"What's your deal? I'm a decent person. I'm rich. I'm a prince. And let's face it, I'm pretty good looking."

"You are not my type."

"I'm everyone's type. Well, except—"

Seto saw the realization. Joey didn't have to state it, but he did regardless.

"You're straight."

"I am," Seto said.

When Seto nodded once to Mokuba, Joey dropped his face into his hands, letting Mokuba know he had figured it out. Mokuba pressed a fist against his mouth and waited without a word.

Joey popped up. "You know, when you hear, 'Let's do something crazy and have a marriage treaty,' you expect a certain amount of negative feedback. And then when you hear, 'We don't have any young men who are royal. We'll find someone of high standing,' you get a little hesitant. But you trust that even if you can't get married to a prince or a duke or an earl or whatever, they will at least find someone who is gay."

Seto caught Duke's gaze from his spot across the roof garden. Even fifty yards away, he seemed to be following the conversation. His lips pressed together like he was trying to confine a smirk.

"I should've known when you said you were kidnapped. It's the only reason you wouldn't want me."

Seto let it slide.

"So you aren't attracted to me?"

"No, your highness."

"So you were kidnapped from your home to be married to some guy who you aren't going to be attracted to and who also hates your entire country?"

"Yes."

"I don't know how to fix that."

The comment didn't sit well with Seto, so he used the time to translate what he felt Mokuba needed to know. Hopefully, Mokuba would give up on learning English so he never heard what all was really being said in front of him. Joey had no filter.

Joey didn't seem fazed by Seto's silence, and he went on with his rant.

"You were supposed to like me. Not at first, no one expected you to like me at first, but after a while of living together? I'd have grown on you big time. And I mean, we're going to be sleeping together. That's a great way to bond people. But I'm not going to force my dick into you."

Seto translated what was appropriate instead of answering. He had been avoiding thinking about them sleeping together. If Joey had been graceful with this transition, or at least respectful of what Seto had to go through to end up in this situation, that would have made it easier. Seto still wouldn't have wanted to sleep with Joey, but he might have been able to go along with it without much fight. He understood what was expected of him out of this marriage.

"I don't even know where that leaves us," Joey said. "I mean, you don't want me. Everyone wants me."

Seto really did try to hold back his amusement, but the smirk insisted.

"What?" Joey asked.

"I have to hang up."

"No! Niisama, it is now getting interesting!"

Seto said goodbye to his brother and ended the call. It was late and he had already kept Mokuba up for too long.

"Did you have a choice in this?"

Joey huffed and held his palms up, then quickly moved a hand to rub the back of his head. "I mean, they told me about it. Made sure that I wasn't going to pitch a fit or nothing."

"I was told after being dragged from my home, in a car with a stranger. They chose not to tell me because they knew I would say no."

"It's ending the war."

"That is trivial. No one believes marrying two people will dictate what the world does. It is a farce."

Joey frowned, and Seto wondered if he would have to explain to a native of the language what the word "farce" meant.

"You speak English pretty good."

"It would be impractical to speak it poorly."

"How come your eyes are blue? I figured they'd be black."

"Genetic abnormalities happen."

They were quiet for a few minutes, long minutes that were uncomfortable even for Seto. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around Joey, a prince and his future husband. If he was just one of the two, it would have been simpler.

"There's going t'be a lot of wedding planning happening in the next few days," Joey said. "I'm online schooling for the rest of the semester, since I'm not going to have much time to head out over the next couple'a weeks. I'm supposed t'be getting you to like me."

"I doubt we will be given much say in the plans," Seto said.

"Yeah, I don't know much about weddings other than they're boring. I know ours is a big deal and all, but I've asked that it's short. The ceremony part, at least."

Seto nodded. Long ceremonies were more understandable when the couple had affection for one another, not in forced marriages between strangers. It was the first thing Joey had said to Seto he actually agreed with.

"I have none of my things," Seto said. "Contacts, clothes."

Joey jumped to his feet and spun to look down at Seto.

"How's your jet lag?" he asked.

"Tolerable."

"Trist! Duke! Tell whoever it is you report to that we're going out."

"Now?" Seto asked. He felt it was appropriate to stand as well, although he didn't know exactly why.

"You need things. We're going t'go get things."

Which meant going out on the streets where everyone could see him. But he also knew if he had any chance to slip away, he would need to know the city better than the small observations he made from a rooftop.

He doubted anyone would say anything negative with their prince standing beside him. And besides that, most of them had probably already heard about the marriage and had seen his face.

Joey and Seto walked back across the roof to the elevator. Duke had pulled out a phone and was telling someone on the other end that yes, they were going out, and no, they did not feel that an entire armed unit would be necessary. Joey took the time to introduce Seto to Tristan, who made some comment about the garden that wasn't interesting enough for Seto to pay attention to.

On the ride downstairs, Seto noticed Joey's outfit for the first time. Like Seto, he had a dress shirt on, green, sleeves rolled to his elbows, but no tie. The shirt was paired with dark jeans, almost black, and a pair of clean sneakers. His hair was unstyled and messy, and in no way did the man beside Seto resemble the fire-breathing dragon the king depicted.

But for a father to assume that of his son, the dragon must have been in there somewhere.

"Where does a person get contacts?" Joey asked.

"Optometrist?"

"You got to get an exam or can they just order some?"

"I know my prescription."

"Cool. Can that be called in? I'm sure it can. Never mind. They'll do whatever for me."

Seto told Duke his prescription, and Duke made the call for him.

At least Joey hadn't commented on Seto having his phone. Maybe his paranoia had been a bit extreme, but extremes were called for in extreme circumstances. They might not have been treating him like a prisoner, but Seto felt it regardless. Having guards wasn't the condemning factor, even the prince had guards, but that along with the cameras tracking his movements, living fourteen stories up, and needing constant assistance with everything almost overwhelmed him. It was those things, and then the fact if Seto asked to leave, they wouldn't let him. He knew without having to try.

He had to wonder if the security would increase or decrease after the wedding.

"Where do you clothes shop?" Joey asked.

"Japan."

Joey snorted and elbowed Seto's side. "Cute. But seriously, any stores we might have here?"

"What stores do you have here?"

"You're difficult."

Seto caught Duke's smirk, but neither of them commented on it.

"All of the stores I frequented were privately run," Seto said. "No chains you have."

"See? That wasn't so tough."

The way Joey pronounced "tough" sounded like "tuft." Although Seto wasn't a native to the language, he could tell Joey spoke too casually for his title. His father didn't have the accent.

It was almost offensive that he treated the language so casually while Seto put conscious effort into each syllable to ensure he spoke clearly. It was just another detail, another thing to add onto Seto's list of why he didn't want to marry the man standing beside him.

"I saw the painting His Majesty did of you," Seto said. The curiosity about the dragon hadn't faded, and Seto knew he would have gotten around to asking at some point. He didn't see reason in waiting.

"Pretty boss, right? Like, Ren gets to be some panther woman and I'm a flame-throwin' dragon."

"Is there some story behind it?"

"My dad's a kook. He sees what he sees and that's that. So whenever he gets around to painting you, 'cause trust me, he will, just go along with it. You may end up as a barracuda or a shadow demon monster, but you've got t'pretend you like it."

"Is that common?"

"Him painting people or him painting people as monsters?"

"Both."

"He paints on the weekends. And it depends on the people. You see Bakura's? Yeah? He and his brother, Ryou, they're real close. So dad made them sit together, then turned Ryou into this angel while Bakura's a demon. Totally fitting for those two."

Just thinking of brothers made Seto think about Mokuba, hopefully back asleep halfway across the world. Mokuba would be upset he couldn't be there for Seto, and although Seto wanted Mokuba around, it wasn't safe for Mokuba to come over. Not any time soon, at least.

They didn't go out through the lobby, but a door in the back. Seto had expected to find a car waiting, but he met an empty street. Even though he didn't question it, Joey told him.

"We're in New York City. It's faster to walk."

Seto wanted to ask the safety portion of his thought, but decided against it. Joey took classes outside of the building, so his team would be used to following him around in public locations. It would have been more of an insult to Duke and Tristan than a simple question.

"So, shopping. Do you always dress like that?" Joey asked, giving Seto's outfit a pointed stare.

"Usually the full suit. I work, worked, a lot."

"What'd you do?" Joey asked. They started to walk down one of the streets, drawing much less attention than Seto had expected. A few people glared before the realization flashed across their expressions, then cast anxious glances toward Joey, like he might have noticed their disdain for his fiancé.

"Software programming and design at my father's company."

"Sounds boring."

"I am very good at it."

They paused at an intersection and waited for the light to turn. Seto kept his eyes on the glowing red hand rather than Joey, who Seto could tell was giving him the same treatment.

"You always so arrogant?"

"When I have cause to be."

The hand switched over and the crowd hustled across the street.

"Maybe. I guess you've got to be pretty good at a lot of stuff for them to send you."

"That was the explanation I received."

Duke walked on Seto's right and Tristan on Joey's left. They stayed about a pace behind Seto and Joey, but close enough that Duke accidentally, or maybe purposefully, brushed up against Seto's arm every few seconds. He could have been choosing to do so as a way of keeping tabs on Seto, although being centimeters away made it seem overkill.

"Your brother, Mochaccino?"

"Mokuba."

"Mokuba. You two close?"

"Very," Seto said, although it felt like an understatement.

"I'm pretty close to Ren, Serenity, my little sister. She's fourteen. How old is yours?"

"Thirteen."

"I bet he's a handful."

Seto shook his head and looked up at the nearest building, tall, taller than the former hotel where he would be staying for an indefinite future. The entire exterior was reflective, mirroring the other side of the street.

"He is too good for his age."

Joey chuckled and they turned down another road. "I was a mess at thirteen. My guards were quitting all the time because I'd sneak off and get them in trouble."

"I am surprised that behavior was allowed, for a prince, that is."

"Like I said, my dad's a kook. He's all about personal freedoms and whatnot."

"But hiding from your guards is dangerous."

"I started self-defense training when I could walk. Guards are more for show than anything."

Tristan cleared his throat, barely audible over the noise of the street.

"Not t'say that they aren't super great at their jobs. They are. Super great."

"What classes do you take at the university?" Seto asked when the last conversation had died down. They were still walking, and Seto watched as a swarm of cars and taxis drove by them. It would have been faster to drive.

"A whole bunch of them. No particular subject yet. Advisers all say I've got t'be well-rounded and all. How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"Then you're in school?"

"I graduated," Seto said.

"From college?" Joey asked. His steps stopped, so Seto stopped. Duke and Tristan had to stop as well.

"A couple years ago."

"Sheesh. You're making me feel behind, lovebug."

That drew more uneasy glances from the people walking around them. Seto kept his gaze on Joey rather than anyone else, since it seemed the safest response. Seto was certain anyone who had heard the pet name and recognized Seto would be confused, because their prince shouldn't be so friendly with that Asian he had to marry.

"There was no point in dragging it out," Seto said.

"So how old were you, when you graduated?"

"Nineteen."

"So, did you just skip most of high school?"

"All of upper secondary," Seto said.

"In English?"

That was English, Seto thought, but he answered nonetheless. "Not most of high school, all."

"That's cool. I'd loved to skip high school."

They made another turn, and this street looked more promising than the others they had come down. The window displays were full of clothing, primarily women's clothing, but still. They were in the right area. People were carrying plastic bags and holding shoe boxes, and a lot of people were dressed more casually than the business outfits they had passed.

"Hey Duke, do we got to stop by the eye doctor?"

"Teá will pick up the order," Duke said.

"You met Teá?" Joey paused for Seto's nod, then went on. "She's cool. Just don't bring up global warming or feminism stuff. She's give you an earful real quick."

"She gives his highness earfuls?" Seto asked. The last word dripped off his tongue, an unfamiliar phrase that he felt like he could understand with the context. Since he wasn't used to that word, he heard his accent slipping back into Japanese enunciation. Joey didn't seem to notice.

"Oh yeah. It's half the reason my dad likes t'keep her around. She keeps everyone honest."

Joey looked up at the names above the shops while they moved down the street, eventually coming to one with suits on display.

"This'll be a good one. Let's get you more than one shirt!"

Duke hung back by the door while Joey, Seto, and Tristan went inside. The shop keeper gave a hasty welcome and asked if they needed anything while Tristan did a lap of the room.

"Sure do," Joey said. "Seto here needs a new wardrobe, and you're our first stop."

Seto almost protested to the casual use of his name, but determined it was better than Joey having introduced him as lovebug. From the shop keeper's reaction, he recognized the both of them, and any further introduction would be unnecessary.

An hour later, Seto had been measured for suits that would have to be tailored, and had picked out enough clothing to last him the week it would take before his own clothes could be shipped over.

Seto was content to be done for the day, after all, he had enough clothes, but Joey insisted they continue down the street. Duke placed a call for someone to head down to the store to pick up what they had just purchased, that way, they didn't have to carry the bags around with them. That left Joey's hands free to point out buildings and make broad gestures to make points as he spoke.

"And that's where Ren got into this fight with a street vendor. She's like five, right? And this guy is insisting she calm down and find her parents because moron didn't recognized the princess of the country or whatever, and she's insisting he add more relish to her hot dog, even though he apparently only puts on so much as a part of his crap policies."

Seto nodded like the story was interesting. He didn't know which part of it annoyed him more, the fact that anyone, even a street vendor, would argue with a five year old, or the fact that the princess had expected him to change his policy just because of her title. He gave her some slack for being so young, but it wasn't a story worth repeating.

"Okay, you need some casual stuff too. Trist, where'd I get that last set of sweats?"

"Why would I need anything casual?" Seto asked. If he wasn't sleeping, he was in slacks.

"You're kidding. Come on. Everyone has casual stuff. You don't want to be walking around in a suit all day."

"I do."

"Nah. I want you to wear normal clothes sometimes."

A horn blared from the street, giving Seto the opportunity to look away just long enough to collect himself. He didn't care what Joey wanted him to wear. They were his clothes, his life. What Seto wore could hardly matter. The way the prince spoke, he really only cared what Seto looked like, and Seto would look better in slacks than jeans.

Seto didn't look away for too long, as not to reveal his anger. Seto didn't know if Joey was trying to bring out Seto's anger, but whether or not he was trying, he was succeeding. It was almost worse if Joey wasn't trying.

It was late by the time they got back. Seto's legs were tired from the distance they had walked, but it didn't seem to have bothered the others. After forcing Seto to pick out t-shirts and jeans, Joey started joking around with Tristan more than he talked to Seto. Duke was constantly on his phone, making arrangements or checking in back with the security at the king's home. That left Seto to follow beside them, bored, but contemplating the ease he could run away. He hadn't found a chance with a clear escape, so Seto forced himself back to the fourteenth floor.

The items they had purchased were laid out on his bed. He had made the bed after getting up that morning, but found it was made up in a different way when he returned. He knew his room was like any guest suite in a hotel. He would leave and staff would clean it, but Seto was used to doing all of that for himself. He remembered Gozaburo had once kept a cook, but she had been the only household staff Seto could remember.

Seto set his phone on the bedside table and started unpacking the bags and boxes. Even if he would only be in this room for a few more days, he wanted everything in order.

One of the bags, with a label Seto didn't remember, had his contacts inside. There were multiple packs of them, along with solution, a case, and a case for his glasses. There were a couple of extra lens cloths in the bottom as well.

He didn't want to wear the same outfit to dinner, even if it had been washed the night before. Wearing the slacks without the matching jacket made Seto angry, angry he had been pulled from his home without the chance to argue. He would have argued; he would have fought. The decision to drag him out had been their only option, but that knowledge didn't make it any easier. They should have picked someone else. Certainly there was someone in the whole of Japan who would be willing to marry an American.

You are the best Japan has to offer.

Seto scoffed and picked out a dress shirt, royal blue and already ironed. It had been from the first store they had gone to, which would have given the staff, or maybe just Teá, time to get it ready for him. He picked out a pair of charcoal slacks as well and debated over the necessity of a tie.

Since it had been the king who invited him to dinner, Seto decided to wear a tie. If it had been more private, he would have left it behind, since Joey hadn't worn one all day. And Seto would rather show up overdressed than under. Seto didn't know what time dinner would be, but when he and Joey parted ways, Joey had given him a bright, "See you at dinner, lovebug!" that left Seto dreading the meal with the family.

Thanks for reading! Your feedback is always appreciated!

You can expect an update on Sunday, January 29th.