Summary: Seto got straight to the point. "...You've been blowing me off for weeks, Mokuba," he said.
"I'm surprised you came to call, Mokuba," Seto said.
It was strange going to visit Seto in a house that belonged to him. Passing portraits and decor that wasn't just familiar - they had once been his and still were legally, speaking. There were memories of slipping on stairs, of spending hours studying on the den floor. Real effort had to be spent to think of it all as his brother's. Especially the parts that felt like home. The offices and meeting rooms Seto could keep. He would gladly take the kitchen he ate lunch in every day, the laundry room where he pestered the help about how to clean his clothes himself, the game room where (on rare occasion) he'd spent time with friends.
But he hadn't lived here in years, so there was that.
"I guess so," Mokuba replied awkwardly.
That cold demeanor that he'd once thought kept him safe contributed to that distant feeling. He found it hard to believe that he used to know, in his heart, that Seto was only like that to protect him. That it was a necessary evil for the greater good. It was only partly true; his brother's demeanor did that and more - but it was genuine, not a security measure.
After years of knowing loving, warm friends, it was unsettling to feel such neutral expression as normal. Seto's lips stretch a thin line of disapproval across his face. "I assume there's a reason you're here."
Mokuba had to remind himself of the point of even showing up.
"I wanted to, um, go out with you or something." He could sometimes be suave or playful in a way that he knew was disarming, but it didn't work on Seto. "You know, something like a movie or a bar, or..."
As usual, Seto got straight to the point. "...You've been blowing me off for weeks, Mokuba," he said, rifling through his papers, eyes perusing the pages. The inquiry didn't have to be made; an explanation was expected.
When were younger, he'd gone through this song and dance so many times. Mokuba knew now that there was no use in lying. "I know," was all that he could think of to say. He gave up on adding any flair or flavor to this conversation. They could discuss their relationship at a later time, not when Seto was doing his after-work work.
But his brother had a response. "Yes. Why don't we have dinner? I haven't eaten yet."
Mokuba resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Seto wouldn't have eaten anything since breakfast; it just made sense. "I want to smoke," Mokuba added aloud to the conversation, to prevent any budding wisecracks. He could already feel his brother trying to take control of the outing, and Mokuba knew that any night built purely on Seto's tastes would end badly for them. "So we'll have to leave the house."
Seto's eyes slid from his paperwork to land squarely on Mokuba, and he met his older brother's gaze. It was too difficult to make sure that his returning glance wasn't too intense or lacking, and he looked away instead, eyes studying the craftsmanship of Seto's desk. A coward's move, but he didn't feel like fighting tonight.
Too much effort involved in this, he decided at that moment.
"There's a dinner party on Thursday," Seto diverged, and Mokuba could tell by the tone of voice that he used that it was work related. "Did you receive the invitation via email?"
"Yes," Mokuba answered. This, he was used to: Seto was always about work, even when he wasn't at work. "I made sure to RSVP."
"I'm going," he said. "Most of our clients will be there. They'll be looking for you. The ones you've been assigned seem to like you." It was definitely a compliment. Affection and work didn't go together in Seto's mind, so Mokuba wasn't surprised at how the stale statement clung to his ears.
"I'll be there."
"Do you have to smoke? Is it necessary?"
Back to tonight. Mokuba pretended to ignore Seto's distraction from the real issue. "No, but I don't want to have dinner in the house just in case."
"What's wrong with the house?"
"Nothing, Seto. But you never go out."
"I do, just not often."
"Not with me, you mean," Mokuba said, and the hand he'd seen clutching Seto's flickered into his field of vision. He supposed that he was jealous; he wanted nothing but to spend time comfortably with his brother and another person had obtained that lost camaraderie.
At the least, he seemed capable of still interpreting Seto's particular brand of communication. It was a small consolation.
"And that's referring to...?" Seto asked. He sat his paperwork down flat on the table and swiveled his chair just a smidgen to his right. Left hand under his chin, he looked into Mokuba's eyes, cool and collected as always.
And that coolness sent Mokuba scrambling for a reply. But he hid his initial reaction, commanding his features to freeze in an expression of nonchalance. "I can't remember the last time we went out, even before I left."
Has nothing to do with the real issue, he chided himself. He was such a coward.
Seto sighed. "If it's something you want that badly, I'll take you out." Why did he always have to be in charge of everything?
"You don't have to take me," Mokuba replied. "Just come withme."
"Mokuba, what do you want to do? It doesn't make sense for us to go separately."
The younger Kaiba realized that he had slipped into passive-aggressiveness; being obtuse. He sighed to match Seto's, trying to check himself and his word choice with a bit more precision. "I'll go with you," Mokuba said, delivering a smile worthy of an Oscar. "I want to talk to you. I haven't had the chance to ask you what you've done since I've been gone - and since I've come back."
Seto raised an eyebrow. "Nothing too different from what you remember," he said somewhat guardedly, and that was his slip. The CEO stood. "I hate sitting at the desk when I'm not working," he explained. "Let's head out."
Mokuba had already remembered this, and by the time Seto had finished speaking the long-haired man was already on his feet. Seto delicately reached for the phone on his desk and within seconds was phoning his on-call driver, whom Mokuba was sure felt unaccustomed to leaving this late in the evening. Seto's voice took on a lighter quality as he voiced the details of their excursion, unsure of the location that they were headed to but that the limo was to be by the front door in fewer than seven minutes and that Seto and Mokuba Kaiba - not a guest, which was important - were the passengers.
His older brother didn't quite smile, but Mokuba knew the expression for what it was. "Let's go then," Seto repeated, and they walked through the halls of Seto's Mansion.
Mokuba's boots made a click-ing sound against the tiled floors they crossed, and he was sure that his steps had never sounded louder than they did just that moment, and Seto's glances back at him only confirmed it. Once they were outside, the limo was not quite there to meet them and for reasons Mokuba himself was sure that he would never understand, he felt the craving for a cigarette.
Trying to make conversation, he asked his older brother, "Why do you hate smoking so much?" He didn't quite remember Seto having such an aversion to it before, and the answer would help to fill the small gap of time.
"I don't hate it," Seto said, and that was that.
There was a breeze blowing that made the air a bit chillier than Mokuba liked, and when that heat was passing through his lips things were a bit more bearable.
To his surprise, Seto added to his previous answer, "It's not something that I was expecting you to come back doing." Mokuba opened his mouth to say something in the half-pause of silence that followed, but it appeared that Seto was attempting to make conversation of his own. "How did you start? Stressful semester?"
Mokuba thought of how he should phrase his answer. "Not really. I just asked to try a friend's and then I started buying my own." He didn't like how that sounded by itself, so he thought he might spice it up with something a bit more positive. "When I first got there I was actually expecting a lot of pressure about...well, everything, but most of the things I do now I've tried myself just out of curiosity and liked it. Most people were very supportive. They weren't the peer-pressure type at all."
The limo arrived and Mokuba felt like a V.I.P. entering it. He used to get into a limo three or four times in one day, but now it felt different. Mokuba had been Americanized in a lot of ways; and there only celebrities did that as regularly as he used to. What did Seto do? Nothing but run a company that loaned out equipment and technology that had been originally developed toward enhancing the experience of playing a card game. It was weird and Mokuba felt he was being spoiled.
It didn't take long for Mokuba to direct the driver to downtown Domino, and he appeared to be glad to drive somewhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity.
"Do you even have any idea where we're going?" Seto asked after perhaps fifteen minutes of silence. To be honest, Mokuba hadn't made up his mind about where to go; he didn't really know Seto as a person and he didn't want to take the "Great Seto Kaiba" to a location that he would feel was beneath him. On the other hand, Mokuba didn't feel like walking into a five star restaurant with his usual jacket-and-jeans combo.
"To be honest? Not really," Mokuba said. Seto's expression seemed almost insulted, so he amended, "Well, I know a few places in the area and I'm trying to decide on my options. I want you to enjoy whatever we do." All Seto could really do was nod. "Is there anything you're in the mood for? To eat?"
Seto sat back in his seat, smirking. "What do you normally do with Yami?" he asked.
Was that a hint of jealousy Mokuba detected? "Just stuff. Pool, clubs, eating. That's all." He hoped that Seto wasn't going to make this about the two of them. It would ironic in a way he wasn't sure he could handle.
"I'm serious." The smirk hadn't removed itself from Seto's face, and he added to it by crossing his arms.
Mokuba couldn't hold in his chuckle. "So was I. That's what we do."
"Hm."
When he had the driver pull over, it was in front of a lounge - the same one where he and Yami had played pool. Mokuba was fond of the place because it was small, quaint; not to mention that Yami had tried his first Jell-O shots there. He felt a little bad for taking Seto to a place that he and Yami had gone, but ...well, he would get over it. This was his night with his brother, and he wasn't going to let something stupid like that ruin it.
Edited 7/10/15 – I still don't really know exactly what this is supposed to be, but I moved a few things around and made some organizational changes. Original commentary below.
Okay. I've officially given up on whatever this was supposed to be. I really hated how this turned out because the internet decided to thwart me by eating my original post.
In any case, what we have here is Mokuba trying to prove that he can handle his brother on his own, which we see is no easy task? How did this outing turn out? We'll find out in another post because I'm sure in the hell not going to try to redo my entire conversation here. Fuck this piece.
This is prompt #28.