Aria: I am distraught. I've ordered two different (or so I thought) versions of Yu-Gi-Oh on DVD, hoping to hear it with the original Japanese dialogue, but I've found that on both the subtitles are just awful. The cheaper version has the exact same bad subtitling as the more expensive and shinier (not kidding) version. Bah.
Bakura: Aw, poor Aria. Here, hit Ryou. It'll make you feel better.
Ryou: Hey!
Aria: *sigh* So, if any of you out there know a version with good subtitles, let me know, although I'm not sure there actually are any...I may have to break down and get the American version. Suggestions? And while you're at it, here are some comments to the reviewers:
Kinsako: Glad you like it so far! Mmmm...hot, cool and wet Jou and Kaiba...*sigh*. This is why I write fanfiction...
Angel: No fears! There are plenty more Seto and Joey moments coming your way...much fluff, much emotional unstability etc...besides, you don't really want to win a bet where Kaiba dies, do you? Thanks for the review! Here's your update...hope you like it...
Animom: Yeah, shower scenes ARE fun, aren't they? There's so much potential for romance/sexiness/metaphor/drama with them. Something about vulnerability, I think. I'm glad you like my writing so much, and you're right, I probably could have slowed things down a little, but I was getting impatient for everyone's thoughts. I have a tendency to stylize dramatically---like you said, swirling emotions, swirling imagery. So much fun. Thanks for the fantastic review!!
Oklina: *blush* How can I refuse such enthusiasm? Here's your update. Enjoy!
Lethe Seraph: Ha! I know what you mean. I'm sitting here, typing away madly because I want to get to a point where they WILL kiss...and it's driving me up the wall! Let's hope they do it soon!
Bakura: Lest we forget, YOU'RE the writer, Marier. As far as this story is concerned, you own the collective fate of these characters *although not Yu-Gi-Oh as a whole* so stop---*aghast* I didn't just---did I---
Aria: *smirks* Thanks for doing the disclaimer, Bakura.
Bakura: I hate you.
Chibisaxoxox: Hot, cold, chills, sweat...god I love temperature. It's the greatest metaphor...and look! Here's the next chapter! So put away the cheese grater...please.
Yami Hoshiko: Aww, you're going to make me blush with all these compliments! Thanks for the encouragement! Here's the new chapter!
Kimi no vanilla: None taken. I see your point...hypothermia as a whole is life-threatening and awful and not romantic at all...but it was really more a means to an end. Think of it this way...alone, Seto freezes and he needs Joey to warm him up. I know you liked Persuasion, so I'm trying to live up to expectations. Hope you like this one!
Katsuki: Thanks! I glad you like it. Here, have an update, on me.
Riskygamble: Excellent...another reviewer! *cackles madly* Um...ahem. Glad you like my story. Thanks for the review!
Kagemihari: Wow! You like me! Or, rather, my writing, which is basically the same thing. Thanks for the glowing review! I find I have a tendency to write fairly stylistically, so I use these stories as a kind of sounding board, to see what does or doesn't make sense. I love wind, too. Enjoy!
Coon Queen: Glad you still like it! Ah, imagery. A writer's best friend. Read on and let's find out what's in store for these two lovebirds!
Tammi1: You've been one of the most dependable reviewers...I don't think you've missed reviewing a chapter once! Thanks for all the support, I really appreciate it. I'm glad you like my style...keep reading! Your reviews help keep me enthusiastic about this story!
Evil Izz: Here you go. I agree...Seto's gotta be taken charge of for once. Yay for cute Kaiba!
Sakura-chan: Thanks! I'm glad you like this so much. I hope you like this next chapter too!
Aria: Thanks to all my reviewers! This helps so much...I love all this support. And because of you, I've begun writing this chapter much sooner than I thought I would! But, between chapters, if you felt like it, I think some of you might also like my other Seto/Jou fic, Persuasion. I'm shameless. But I have that feeling that if you like this one, you might like that one too. Alright! Read on, dear fellows! Into the breach!
RESCUE
Chapter Six: Inertia
His head hurt.
He blinked a couple of times. Darkness surrounded him---a kind of sleepy warm darkness that settled comfortably around him like a blanket, heavy and warm. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine that the solid warmth over him was not a thick comforter but instead the thickness of the dark itself, cozying up against his skin smoother than silk and blood-warm.
So different from the dark of his dream---the biting, cold cruel shadows that seduced him---slipped around him---tugged at him---he shivered, a little, and felt skin rubbing on cloth with a kind of vengeful delight.
Ha, he thought. I'm still alive.
And wasn't that a triumph of sorts?
Something at the side of the bed rustled and he froze, trying to blink the now cloying darkness out of his eyes, trying to see what was in the room with him. He heard a yawn, saw an arm stretch up, up, and suddenly anger washed through him, hot, as he remembered the life-giving warmth that had saved him, remembered the heat rushing through him from Joey's fingers on him, from Joey's eyes on him---
A movement, a scuffle, and Joey levered himself up from where he'd been sitting, his back against the bed. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the warmth and darkness had overcome his weak defenses and he'd slipped deliciously into sleep, free for once from dreams of wind and biting shadows and vertigo---he yawned jaw-crackingly, brushing his hair out of his eyes with long fingers, and then cautiously leaned over the still figure lumped in layers of thick blankets and soft comforter. He thought he'd moved, but---
"Kaiba?"
No response. He tried again, a little louder.
"Kaiba? You awake?" The other didn't move, but Joey thought he saw the shadow of a blink, thought he saw a glimmer of cerulean blue cut through the darkness before the eyes shut tightly again.
Annoyance bit sharply at him. He'd saved the guy's life, and this was the thanks he got? The hell with that, he thought, and fumbled for a second at the bedside table, switching on the lamp there.
Aha. There---a twitch of the eyelids as they clamped down tight. He leaned down and pulled up the thermos that had been sitting next to him. "Rise and shine, Kaiba," he said easily.
A shift, and now the blue eyes were wide open and glaring balefully at him.
"Is there any good reason why you're still here, mutt?"
That raspy voice hit him like a bucketful of cold water, but he shook it off and concentrated on pouring hot soup from the thermos into a mug. Just like old times, he thought, and thrust the mug toward Kaiba, but with a twist.
This time, I'M in charge.
"Here," he said noncommittally. Kaiba arched one silky brown brow, and Joey gritted his teeth. Losing his temper now would NOT be a good thing. Count to ten. Take a breath. "Soup. It'll warm you up."
"I'm plenty warm."
Count to ten. Count to ten.
One. Two. Three.
"Drink it!"
They glared at each other, seconds ticking off behind them as blue locked into brown and brown glared back at blue until Kaiba blinked and looked away and took the steaming mug.
Joey went to set the thermos down on the polished wood of the bedside table, waiting to make a crack about how it would leave a ring but no challenge came. Surprised, he turned to see Kaiba sitting up with the comforter fallen into soft contours at his waits, his hands wrapped around the mug, staring into the rising steam. He stood there, wondering, but then Kaiba looked up and met his gaze.
Something in his chest made a sharp sideways hop, and he felt heat seeping into the hand that still held the thermos, moving through his veins, pounding in his temples, rising until he felt flushed and feverish. He hurriedly put the thermos down.
"What, don't like that kind?" he joked weakly, feeling a desperate need for distraction. Blue eyes only looked up at him, through him, blank and alien, and then they turned away, leaving Joey with a wash of relief. Only Kaiba could make him feel like a pinned, still squirming bug.
"It's fine." His voice was a little raspier than usual, but he imagined that would disappear soon.
Silence.
"So..." Joey pushed his hair back again, searching desperately for something to say. Without the fights and insults that were routine, safe, he felt woefully out of place. "Better drink it. Doctor said to give you something hot when you woke up."
Kaiba nodded but didn't move.
Silence stretched.
Joey shifted awkwardly, thought of a dozen things to say, and, not speaking any of them, slumped to the floor, leaning up against the bed. What was there to say? That was his sworn enemy there, and he'd just saved his life, and now he was waiting while the cold-hearted bastard ate his soup. What do you say in a situation like that? He somehow couldn't see himself joking with Kaiba the way he would with Tristan, couldn't see himself opening up to him like he would with Yugi, asking him what had led to finding him shaking cold and frozen on the pool tiles was also completely out of the question---and yet he'd held him up under a shower of warm water, tried to warm him back to life---
He shrugged inside his damp clothes, wondering how it would have felt to have that super-heated water hit his skin, trail the lines of his eyebrows, jaw, and muscles like fingers, like Kaiba's fingers, the two of them standing under a rush of steaming water that hit them like kisses that burned---
"Joey."
He jumped and flushed guiltily, shaking his head, trying to clear it of sudden steam.
"What?"
Silence. He imagined pale fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of the mug, relaxing, tightening, relaxing.
"Dare I ask how you knew to use the shower?"
He shrugged against the fall of the bedspread. "I read it somewhere." He waited. No insult, no crack about his reading skills, or lack thereof. No reply.
Desperate to fill the silence, he grasped at straws. "It was in this book," he offered. "It said that the worst thing to do for someone who's frozen is to wrap them up, because that'll just trap the cold in. The best thing to do, it said, was to use hot water."
"Ah."
"Aside from that---it seemed the best thing to do. I mean, to warm you up."
Kaiba nodded, but he didn't speak.
They sat again in silence, a living breathing silence as impermeable as darkness and warm around them---lengthening---stretching---
Joey got up and stretched. "Take your time," he said, without turning around, and walked towards the door. He laid his hand on the knob to turn it, to get out of the room, away from the silence between them when---
"Thank you."
He hesitated only slightly before twisting the knob and pushing out into the hallway, before closing the door softly behind him and leaning back against it with a sigh, his heart pounding inexplicably in his chest, pushing blood so fast around him that he was getting light-headed.
He shook his head, put his hands in his pockets, and forced out a whistle as he walked down the hall, his shoes sinking slightly into the thick carpeting. He paused outside an open door down the hall, and grinned, leaning against the doorframe, looking in at the two figures playing video games inside.
"No, no, nononono---noooo! Ah, man, you beat me again, Mokuba!" Tristan flopped melodramatically on the couch, the controller falling from his limp hand as he groaned. Mokuba giggled, and made his ship take a victory lap before turning around and spotting Joey. He jumped up, a huge grin on his face.
"Hey Joey! Look, I beat Tristan! Hey---" his face grew serious. "How's Seto, Joey? He's okay, right?" Clear gray eyes stared into his so solemnly that Joey had to laugh.
"Yeah, Mokuba," he said, coming into the room and ruffling the kid's hair. "Yeah, he's fine."
* * *
He wrapped his fingers around the warm mug, stared into the rising steam and tried with all his might not to look at Joey, standing there in the room with him. He longed to say something---anything---one of his old insults would do easily, and yet---and yet---it felt as though his tongue were a separate entity, one not under his control. He couldn't make it move, couldn't form words or coherent sentences or sounds that might even remotely resemble something to say.
He wondered, vaguely, when the last time he'd been tongue-tied was---when, if ever, he hadn't been able to come up with a sharp retort, a biting comment specifically tailored for the exact occasion. He didn't think there WAS a last time. He didn't think there had been a first time, until now. Now, when he stared at the patterns in the curling steam, desperately trying to not mind the silence that flooded the room. He had to say something---but what? Could he really make small talk with the mutt? Never mind that he hated small talk to begin with---but anything to take his mind off the strange feeling he got, looking at Joey, of water rushing over his skin like silk, like delicate fingers of heat and liquid, like delicate long pale fingers brushing through his hair, over his skin, gently, glowing with heat and passion and---
He clamped it down, not moving, fighting some indeterminable inner battle to regain control over his rebellious body. He'd just come back from hypothermia---of course he'd be having strange reactions to temperature change, to whoever saved him---
And let's face it, he thought, suddenly tired and defeated. Joey had saved him. Never mind why or how or any of the specifics---there was the ugly truth right there. Saved me, he thought, sparking another violent internal battle between his innate reaction of wanting to thank Joey and his ground-in determination to make the mutt miserable.
And then Joey got up, and went to the door, and no matter what, he just couldn't let him walk out of there, and maybe he'd have some struggle to contend with too if he heard those words so---
And just as he decided not to say anything, they came out anyway.
"Thank you."
Was that a hesitation? He watched Joey's back, saw the shoulders suddenly go up as if he were trying to block something.
The door opened.
He was gone.
Kaiba looked at the door for a minute, his tired mind trying to tick over events with his accustomed efficiency, but his mind seemed clouded today, as though the steam from the soup was rising in his head, blocking all coherent thought.
Not that he particularly wanted to analyze his reactions towards the mutt.
He caught a sigh before it began, lowered his gaze from the door and took a sip of soup, felt it spread deliciously against his throat, creamy and warm. He smiled. He hadn't had this soup in ages, in years, probably. It was his favorite, and he savored each sip slowly, welcoming the warmth it spread through his stomach. Joey must have asked Mokuba what soup to make for his brother.
Mokuba.
His eyes widened, and the soup turned suddenly bitter in his mouth. Was Mokuba home? What would he think? How much time had passed, anyway? Suddenly frantic, he put the soup down and shoved himself to the side of the bed, swinging his feet over the side and grabbing his bathrobe, ticking mentally through all the places he might find Mokuba, what he would say to him---
And just as suddenly, his arms dropped to his sides, his hands hit the comforter forgotten. What WOULD he tell Mokuba? That he was single-handedly responsible for the possible death of a man? That he'd ripped to shreds yet another competitor? That his bloodthirsty reputation was undoubtedly all over the news and the nets? He hung his head, suddenly bone-tired, wanting only to finish his soup and go back to sleep. He kept his eyes open instead, stared at the floor, ticked off seconds in his head until he could regain control, and then reached for his laptop, sitting innocently on his bedside table.
He had to know.
The door opened as his fingers touched the smooth black metal and plastic, and a small figure bounced in.
"Seto!" it cried delightedly, and he realized it was Mokuba a nanosecond before he leapt up onto the bed to crush his ribcage with a hug. "You're up! I was so worried---hey!" His brother's eyes had caught the movement towards the computer. He got up and pushed it away. "No, Seto. Don't check on anything. I just want you to get better."
"I'm fine," he said. His voice rasped in his throat, raw and painful. He looked away from his brother. Shame burned in him like an open flame, and he couldn't bear to look at Mokuba, couldn't bear to see his shame reflected in the boy's guileless gray eyes. He turned away, but saw instead, the lean figure leaning against the doorframe, one long leg crossed over the other, arms crossed against his lanky chest, staring resolutely through his thick golden bangs at the doorpost.
Anger---heat---shame---rose suddenly through him, leaving him shaken and pale and longing to get rid of Joey Wheeler, kick him yowling out of the house, out of his life, out of his mind.
Mokuba saw him turn away, saw the blood drain from his brother's face, but he mistook it and immediately moved to Seto's side. "Seto?" he said. "Are you okay? Do you want anything?"
He didn't know what to say---Mokuba's movement and concern had caught Joey's attention, try as he might to ignore the room and it's occupants, and he'd looked up, meeting Kaiba's unprotected gaze and sending a sheer wave of physical heat through him. He shivered, prompting Mokuba to try in vain to fix the covers and hand him the soup he'd put down. He glanced at his little brother, saw the concern in his eyes, and something in him gave up. He took the soup and was rewarded by a small grin.
Seeing his brother thus tamed, Mokuba relented. "Here, Seto," he said, pulling the laptop toward him. "I'll check anything for you that you want, okay?"
"No!"
Hot soup splashed over the edge of the mug, soaking the edge of the comforter and landing with a splash on his bare skin. He slammed the laptop shut in Mokuba's hands, his own trembling slightly on the warm black plastic.
He had time to see the shock register on Mokuba's face before the boy levered himself off the bed and walked out past Joey into the hallway. "I'll come see you again later, Seto," he said, turning slightly, and then he walked off down the hallway.
Leaving him with a wet stomach and a trembling hand, still stretched out on the cover of the laptop.
"Mokuba..."
"Jesus, Kaiba, he just wanted to help!"
He looked up to see Joey standing over him, fists clenching angrily. He hates me, he thought with some satisfaction, feeling an odd, familiar coldness ball up in his lower belly. He hates me for what I do and what I've done and who I am. No need to protect myself from Joey Wheeler anymore.
I can handle hate.
He quirked an en eyebrow coolly and looked away, wiping the cold soup off himself with some distaste before throwing on his bathrobe and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He looked up at Joey, noted the blaze rising in his eyes, how his skin paled and then flushed.
Heat, he thought.
Heat.
Water, hot water, coursing over him and bruising his skin like rough kisses, heat rising in him, flooding his body, thawing, melting, burning, steam and boiling water reaching to every point of his body---he saw how Joey flushed again, watched the heat rise in him, longed for it, desired it past anything he had ever thought he'd want.
With a real effort, he clamped down on the images rising, unbidden, to his mind, and came to one decision. He had to get rid of Joey, had to rid himself of this odd sensation that was weakening him---weren't his muscles shaking? But it wasn't from cold---burning him alive. So he glared, calling on every element of control remaining to him.
Cool, he thought, and as he thought it, he felt his blood slow just a bit in its headlong rush around his body.
Control.
He thought about standing up, concentrating on keeping his muscles under control, his breath, his pulse under control. Cool. He was taller than Joey, could use his height to regain control---but he decided against it, testing his muscles and feeling their shaky response.
Joey took a step back, still seething.
"I knew you were a creep, Kaiba, but that's your little brother you just sent packing. And hell, he was just trying to help! And so am I, dammit. You might show a little gratitude for me saving your life."
He watched as Kaiba looked back at his computer. That goddamned cold-hearted bastard---he was used to being frozen out, but seeing Mokuba shunted aside hit him hard. At least Kaiba wasn't separated forcefully from his brother the way Joey had lost Serenity. And he meant to say so, meant to smack some sense into the guys head but then Kaiba looked up and Joey felt those shivers across his skin again, felt himself shrink and then explode under that cool gaze. He flushed, confused, suddenly battling with a part of himself he hadn't admitted to before, because suddenly his mind was filled with images of Kaiba's long pale fingers sliding gently across his fevered skin, images of those cool blue eyes staring into his, much as they were now---
What did it mean? He wanted to shake himself, to smack his head into a wall a couple of times until he'd beaten it out, whatever it was, until he'd rid himself of those shivers that came over him when he saw Kaiba, until he'd rid himself of the way his chest constricted, his shirt felt too small, something in his ribcage jumped.
But instead he confronted it, confronted him, and it fueled his anger toward the arrogant boy sitting before him and that slim piece of black plastic and metal on his lap.
Kaiba shook a lock of silky brown hair from his eyes and considered him. "I don't need to thank you, mutt. Pulling things from the water is what you retrievers are trained to do, I think."
It flared.
"You'd better shut your mouth, Kaiba, before I decide to do it for you."
One silky brown eyebrow arched, and he could see Kaiba was considering the challenge, and as he thought it, his anger evaporated. He only wanted to prove something---anything---to wipe that stupid smirk off Kaiba's face, to rid him of that ridiculous look of fear that still glittered deep in the blue eyes.
He almost smiled, almost nodded to that voice in his head.
And then waited.
He didn't have to wait long.
Kaiba smirked, the challenge gleaming in his eyes, his mouth quirked in cool good humor. "Oh, I don't know, about that, mutt. You never were very good at word games."
Joey grinned grimly, and stepped forward, noting with pleasure the way Kaiba's eyes widened, the way he shrank into himself, the way a flush became slightly visible against his pale skin. Saw an odd fear rise in the blue eyes.
So. Kaiba was trying to control something as well. He planted his hands on either side of the seated boy, and his grin widened.
"Who said anything about words?"
He didn't know if Kaiba tried to move, tried to say something, because in the indeterminable seconds that stretched between them, he felt Kaiba's warm breath on his cheek and his mind flared.
And then, closing his eyes, he threw caution to the winds, bent his head, and pressed his lips gently---so gently---like sunlight, like water---to Kaiba's.
And then there was nothing except the pounding of his heart in his ears, the silence of the room, and the small movements of Kaiba's mouth against his.
Warm.
He felt the familiar shivers return, felt them skitter across his skin in waves of warmth---of heat---he burned and he wanted more---more heat but already Kaiba was shifting under him so instead of pressing for more, he burned the feel and taste of Kaiba into his mind, satisfying for once that nagging voice in the back of his head---and moved back.
He stared into the warmth of blue eyes, and was swallowed.
* * *
Aria: *looking slightly shell-shocked* Whoa *looks back*. They kissed. I don't know whether I should be surprised or happy that I pulled it off...what do you think? Leave me a review and let me know! And don't worry, this isn't the end. Just because I didn't leave it with as big a cliff-hanger as usual doesn't mean that it's over---there is more to come. Oh yes. And here's a challenge! Who can name me the book where Joey read what to do with hypothermia? I'll give you a hint---it isn't a first-aid book. Whoever guesses right will...um...get something nice. I haven't decided yet. But I need reviews to keep me going! So leave one and let me know what you think! Flames will be used to toast marshmallows.
Bakura: Aw, poor Aria. Here, hit Ryou. It'll make you feel better.
Ryou: Hey!
Aria: *sigh* So, if any of you out there know a version with good subtitles, let me know, although I'm not sure there actually are any...I may have to break down and get the American version. Suggestions? And while you're at it, here are some comments to the reviewers:
Kinsako: Glad you like it so far! Mmmm...hot, cool and wet Jou and Kaiba...*sigh*. This is why I write fanfiction...
Angel: No fears! There are plenty more Seto and Joey moments coming your way...much fluff, much emotional unstability etc...besides, you don't really want to win a bet where Kaiba dies, do you? Thanks for the review! Here's your update...hope you like it...
Animom: Yeah, shower scenes ARE fun, aren't they? There's so much potential for romance/sexiness/metaphor/drama with them. Something about vulnerability, I think. I'm glad you like my writing so much, and you're right, I probably could have slowed things down a little, but I was getting impatient for everyone's thoughts. I have a tendency to stylize dramatically---like you said, swirling emotions, swirling imagery. So much fun. Thanks for the fantastic review!!
Oklina: *blush* How can I refuse such enthusiasm? Here's your update. Enjoy!
Lethe Seraph: Ha! I know what you mean. I'm sitting here, typing away madly because I want to get to a point where they WILL kiss...and it's driving me up the wall! Let's hope they do it soon!
Bakura: Lest we forget, YOU'RE the writer, Marier. As far as this story is concerned, you own the collective fate of these characters *although not Yu-Gi-Oh as a whole* so stop---*aghast* I didn't just---did I---
Aria: *smirks* Thanks for doing the disclaimer, Bakura.
Bakura: I hate you.
Chibisaxoxox: Hot, cold, chills, sweat...god I love temperature. It's the greatest metaphor...and look! Here's the next chapter! So put away the cheese grater...please.
Yami Hoshiko: Aww, you're going to make me blush with all these compliments! Thanks for the encouragement! Here's the new chapter!
Kimi no vanilla: None taken. I see your point...hypothermia as a whole is life-threatening and awful and not romantic at all...but it was really more a means to an end. Think of it this way...alone, Seto freezes and he needs Joey to warm him up. I know you liked Persuasion, so I'm trying to live up to expectations. Hope you like this one!
Katsuki: Thanks! I glad you like it. Here, have an update, on me.
Riskygamble: Excellent...another reviewer! *cackles madly* Um...ahem. Glad you like my story. Thanks for the review!
Kagemihari: Wow! You like me! Or, rather, my writing, which is basically the same thing. Thanks for the glowing review! I find I have a tendency to write fairly stylistically, so I use these stories as a kind of sounding board, to see what does or doesn't make sense. I love wind, too. Enjoy!
Coon Queen: Glad you still like it! Ah, imagery. A writer's best friend. Read on and let's find out what's in store for these two lovebirds!
Tammi1: You've been one of the most dependable reviewers...I don't think you've missed reviewing a chapter once! Thanks for all the support, I really appreciate it. I'm glad you like my style...keep reading! Your reviews help keep me enthusiastic about this story!
Evil Izz: Here you go. I agree...Seto's gotta be taken charge of for once. Yay for cute Kaiba!
Sakura-chan: Thanks! I'm glad you like this so much. I hope you like this next chapter too!
Aria: Thanks to all my reviewers! This helps so much...I love all this support. And because of you, I've begun writing this chapter much sooner than I thought I would! But, between chapters, if you felt like it, I think some of you might also like my other Seto/Jou fic, Persuasion. I'm shameless. But I have that feeling that if you like this one, you might like that one too. Alright! Read on, dear fellows! Into the breach!
RESCUE
Chapter Six: Inertia
His head hurt.
He blinked a couple of times. Darkness surrounded him---a kind of sleepy warm darkness that settled comfortably around him like a blanket, heavy and warm. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine that the solid warmth over him was not a thick comforter but instead the thickness of the dark itself, cozying up against his skin smoother than silk and blood-warm.
So different from the dark of his dream---the biting, cold cruel shadows that seduced him---slipped around him---tugged at him---he shivered, a little, and felt skin rubbing on cloth with a kind of vengeful delight.
Ha, he thought. I'm still alive.
And wasn't that a triumph of sorts?
Something at the side of the bed rustled and he froze, trying to blink the now cloying darkness out of his eyes, trying to see what was in the room with him. He heard a yawn, saw an arm stretch up, up, and suddenly anger washed through him, hot, as he remembered the life-giving warmth that had saved him, remembered the heat rushing through him from Joey's fingers on him, from Joey's eyes on him---
A movement, a scuffle, and Joey levered himself up from where he'd been sitting, his back against the bed. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the warmth and darkness had overcome his weak defenses and he'd slipped deliciously into sleep, free for once from dreams of wind and biting shadows and vertigo---he yawned jaw-crackingly, brushing his hair out of his eyes with long fingers, and then cautiously leaned over the still figure lumped in layers of thick blankets and soft comforter. He thought he'd moved, but---
"Kaiba?"
No response. He tried again, a little louder.
"Kaiba? You awake?" The other didn't move, but Joey thought he saw the shadow of a blink, thought he saw a glimmer of cerulean blue cut through the darkness before the eyes shut tightly again.
Annoyance bit sharply at him. He'd saved the guy's life, and this was the thanks he got? The hell with that, he thought, and fumbled for a second at the bedside table, switching on the lamp there.
Aha. There---a twitch of the eyelids as they clamped down tight. He leaned down and pulled up the thermos that had been sitting next to him. "Rise and shine, Kaiba," he said easily.
A shift, and now the blue eyes were wide open and glaring balefully at him.
"Is there any good reason why you're still here, mutt?"
That raspy voice hit him like a bucketful of cold water, but he shook it off and concentrated on pouring hot soup from the thermos into a mug. Just like old times, he thought, and thrust the mug toward Kaiba, but with a twist.
This time, I'M in charge.
"Here," he said noncommittally. Kaiba arched one silky brown brow, and Joey gritted his teeth. Losing his temper now would NOT be a good thing. Count to ten. Take a breath. "Soup. It'll warm you up."
"I'm plenty warm."
Count to ten. Count to ten.
One. Two. Three.
"Drink it!"
They glared at each other, seconds ticking off behind them as blue locked into brown and brown glared back at blue until Kaiba blinked and looked away and took the steaming mug.
Joey went to set the thermos down on the polished wood of the bedside table, waiting to make a crack about how it would leave a ring but no challenge came. Surprised, he turned to see Kaiba sitting up with the comforter fallen into soft contours at his waits, his hands wrapped around the mug, staring into the rising steam. He stood there, wondering, but then Kaiba looked up and met his gaze.
Something in his chest made a sharp sideways hop, and he felt heat seeping into the hand that still held the thermos, moving through his veins, pounding in his temples, rising until he felt flushed and feverish. He hurriedly put the thermos down.
"What, don't like that kind?" he joked weakly, feeling a desperate need for distraction. Blue eyes only looked up at him, through him, blank and alien, and then they turned away, leaving Joey with a wash of relief. Only Kaiba could make him feel like a pinned, still squirming bug.
"It's fine." His voice was a little raspier than usual, but he imagined that would disappear soon.
Silence.
"So..." Joey pushed his hair back again, searching desperately for something to say. Without the fights and insults that were routine, safe, he felt woefully out of place. "Better drink it. Doctor said to give you something hot when you woke up."
Kaiba nodded but didn't move.
Silence stretched.
Joey shifted awkwardly, thought of a dozen things to say, and, not speaking any of them, slumped to the floor, leaning up against the bed. What was there to say? That was his sworn enemy there, and he'd just saved his life, and now he was waiting while the cold-hearted bastard ate his soup. What do you say in a situation like that? He somehow couldn't see himself joking with Kaiba the way he would with Tristan, couldn't see himself opening up to him like he would with Yugi, asking him what had led to finding him shaking cold and frozen on the pool tiles was also completely out of the question---and yet he'd held him up under a shower of warm water, tried to warm him back to life---
He shrugged inside his damp clothes, wondering how it would have felt to have that super-heated water hit his skin, trail the lines of his eyebrows, jaw, and muscles like fingers, like Kaiba's fingers, the two of them standing under a rush of steaming water that hit them like kisses that burned---
"Joey."
He jumped and flushed guiltily, shaking his head, trying to clear it of sudden steam.
"What?"
Silence. He imagined pale fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of the mug, relaxing, tightening, relaxing.
"Dare I ask how you knew to use the shower?"
He shrugged against the fall of the bedspread. "I read it somewhere." He waited. No insult, no crack about his reading skills, or lack thereof. No reply.
Desperate to fill the silence, he grasped at straws. "It was in this book," he offered. "It said that the worst thing to do for someone who's frozen is to wrap them up, because that'll just trap the cold in. The best thing to do, it said, was to use hot water."
"Ah."
"Aside from that---it seemed the best thing to do. I mean, to warm you up."
Kaiba nodded, but he didn't speak.
They sat again in silence, a living breathing silence as impermeable as darkness and warm around them---lengthening---stretching---
Joey got up and stretched. "Take your time," he said, without turning around, and walked towards the door. He laid his hand on the knob to turn it, to get out of the room, away from the silence between them when---
"Thank you."
He hesitated only slightly before twisting the knob and pushing out into the hallway, before closing the door softly behind him and leaning back against it with a sigh, his heart pounding inexplicably in his chest, pushing blood so fast around him that he was getting light-headed.
He shook his head, put his hands in his pockets, and forced out a whistle as he walked down the hall, his shoes sinking slightly into the thick carpeting. He paused outside an open door down the hall, and grinned, leaning against the doorframe, looking in at the two figures playing video games inside.
"No, no, nononono---noooo! Ah, man, you beat me again, Mokuba!" Tristan flopped melodramatically on the couch, the controller falling from his limp hand as he groaned. Mokuba giggled, and made his ship take a victory lap before turning around and spotting Joey. He jumped up, a huge grin on his face.
"Hey Joey! Look, I beat Tristan! Hey---" his face grew serious. "How's Seto, Joey? He's okay, right?" Clear gray eyes stared into his so solemnly that Joey had to laugh.
"Yeah, Mokuba," he said, coming into the room and ruffling the kid's hair. "Yeah, he's fine."
* * *
He wrapped his fingers around the warm mug, stared into the rising steam and tried with all his might not to look at Joey, standing there in the room with him. He longed to say something---anything---one of his old insults would do easily, and yet---and yet---it felt as though his tongue were a separate entity, one not under his control. He couldn't make it move, couldn't form words or coherent sentences or sounds that might even remotely resemble something to say.
He wondered, vaguely, when the last time he'd been tongue-tied was---when, if ever, he hadn't been able to come up with a sharp retort, a biting comment specifically tailored for the exact occasion. He didn't think there WAS a last time. He didn't think there had been a first time, until now. Now, when he stared at the patterns in the curling steam, desperately trying to not mind the silence that flooded the room. He had to say something---but what? Could he really make small talk with the mutt? Never mind that he hated small talk to begin with---but anything to take his mind off the strange feeling he got, looking at Joey, of water rushing over his skin like silk, like delicate fingers of heat and liquid, like delicate long pale fingers brushing through his hair, over his skin, gently, glowing with heat and passion and---
He clamped it down, not moving, fighting some indeterminable inner battle to regain control over his rebellious body. He'd just come back from hypothermia---of course he'd be having strange reactions to temperature change, to whoever saved him---
And let's face it, he thought, suddenly tired and defeated. Joey had saved him. Never mind why or how or any of the specifics---there was the ugly truth right there. Saved me, he thought, sparking another violent internal battle between his innate reaction of wanting to thank Joey and his ground-in determination to make the mutt miserable.
And then Joey got up, and went to the door, and no matter what, he just couldn't let him walk out of there, and maybe he'd have some struggle to contend with too if he heard those words so---
And just as he decided not to say anything, they came out anyway.
"Thank you."
Was that a hesitation? He watched Joey's back, saw the shoulders suddenly go up as if he were trying to block something.
The door opened.
He was gone.
Kaiba looked at the door for a minute, his tired mind trying to tick over events with his accustomed efficiency, but his mind seemed clouded today, as though the steam from the soup was rising in his head, blocking all coherent thought.
Not that he particularly wanted to analyze his reactions towards the mutt.
He caught a sigh before it began, lowered his gaze from the door and took a sip of soup, felt it spread deliciously against his throat, creamy and warm. He smiled. He hadn't had this soup in ages, in years, probably. It was his favorite, and he savored each sip slowly, welcoming the warmth it spread through his stomach. Joey must have asked Mokuba what soup to make for his brother.
Mokuba.
His eyes widened, and the soup turned suddenly bitter in his mouth. Was Mokuba home? What would he think? How much time had passed, anyway? Suddenly frantic, he put the soup down and shoved himself to the side of the bed, swinging his feet over the side and grabbing his bathrobe, ticking mentally through all the places he might find Mokuba, what he would say to him---
And just as suddenly, his arms dropped to his sides, his hands hit the comforter forgotten. What WOULD he tell Mokuba? That he was single-handedly responsible for the possible death of a man? That he'd ripped to shreds yet another competitor? That his bloodthirsty reputation was undoubtedly all over the news and the nets? He hung his head, suddenly bone-tired, wanting only to finish his soup and go back to sleep. He kept his eyes open instead, stared at the floor, ticked off seconds in his head until he could regain control, and then reached for his laptop, sitting innocently on his bedside table.
He had to know.
The door opened as his fingers touched the smooth black metal and plastic, and a small figure bounced in.
"Seto!" it cried delightedly, and he realized it was Mokuba a nanosecond before he leapt up onto the bed to crush his ribcage with a hug. "You're up! I was so worried---hey!" His brother's eyes had caught the movement towards the computer. He got up and pushed it away. "No, Seto. Don't check on anything. I just want you to get better."
"I'm fine," he said. His voice rasped in his throat, raw and painful. He looked away from his brother. Shame burned in him like an open flame, and he couldn't bear to look at Mokuba, couldn't bear to see his shame reflected in the boy's guileless gray eyes. He turned away, but saw instead, the lean figure leaning against the doorframe, one long leg crossed over the other, arms crossed against his lanky chest, staring resolutely through his thick golden bangs at the doorpost.
Anger---heat---shame---rose suddenly through him, leaving him shaken and pale and longing to get rid of Joey Wheeler, kick him yowling out of the house, out of his life, out of his mind.
Mokuba saw him turn away, saw the blood drain from his brother's face, but he mistook it and immediately moved to Seto's side. "Seto?" he said. "Are you okay? Do you want anything?"
He didn't know what to say---Mokuba's movement and concern had caught Joey's attention, try as he might to ignore the room and it's occupants, and he'd looked up, meeting Kaiba's unprotected gaze and sending a sheer wave of physical heat through him. He shivered, prompting Mokuba to try in vain to fix the covers and hand him the soup he'd put down. He glanced at his little brother, saw the concern in his eyes, and something in him gave up. He took the soup and was rewarded by a small grin.
Seeing his brother thus tamed, Mokuba relented. "Here, Seto," he said, pulling the laptop toward him. "I'll check anything for you that you want, okay?"
"No!"
Hot soup splashed over the edge of the mug, soaking the edge of the comforter and landing with a splash on his bare skin. He slammed the laptop shut in Mokuba's hands, his own trembling slightly on the warm black plastic.
He had time to see the shock register on Mokuba's face before the boy levered himself off the bed and walked out past Joey into the hallway. "I'll come see you again later, Seto," he said, turning slightly, and then he walked off down the hallway.
Leaving him with a wet stomach and a trembling hand, still stretched out on the cover of the laptop.
"Mokuba..."
"Jesus, Kaiba, he just wanted to help!"
He looked up to see Joey standing over him, fists clenching angrily. He hates me, he thought with some satisfaction, feeling an odd, familiar coldness ball up in his lower belly. He hates me for what I do and what I've done and who I am. No need to protect myself from Joey Wheeler anymore.
I can handle hate.
He quirked an en eyebrow coolly and looked away, wiping the cold soup off himself with some distaste before throwing on his bathrobe and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He looked up at Joey, noted the blaze rising in his eyes, how his skin paled and then flushed.
Heat, he thought.
Heat.
Water, hot water, coursing over him and bruising his skin like rough kisses, heat rising in him, flooding his body, thawing, melting, burning, steam and boiling water reaching to every point of his body---he saw how Joey flushed again, watched the heat rise in him, longed for it, desired it past anything he had ever thought he'd want.
With a real effort, he clamped down on the images rising, unbidden, to his mind, and came to one decision. He had to get rid of Joey, had to rid himself of this odd sensation that was weakening him---weren't his muscles shaking? But it wasn't from cold---burning him alive. So he glared, calling on every element of control remaining to him.
Cool, he thought, and as he thought it, he felt his blood slow just a bit in its headlong rush around his body.
Control.
He thought about standing up, concentrating on keeping his muscles under control, his breath, his pulse under control. Cool. He was taller than Joey, could use his height to regain control---but he decided against it, testing his muscles and feeling their shaky response.
Joey took a step back, still seething.
"I knew you were a creep, Kaiba, but that's your little brother you just sent packing. And hell, he was just trying to help! And so am I, dammit. You might show a little gratitude for me saving your life."
He watched as Kaiba looked back at his computer. That goddamned cold-hearted bastard---he was used to being frozen out, but seeing Mokuba shunted aside hit him hard. At least Kaiba wasn't separated forcefully from his brother the way Joey had lost Serenity. And he meant to say so, meant to smack some sense into the guys head but then Kaiba looked up and Joey felt those shivers across his skin again, felt himself shrink and then explode under that cool gaze. He flushed, confused, suddenly battling with a part of himself he hadn't admitted to before, because suddenly his mind was filled with images of Kaiba's long pale fingers sliding gently across his fevered skin, images of those cool blue eyes staring into his, much as they were now---
What did it mean? He wanted to shake himself, to smack his head into a wall a couple of times until he'd beaten it out, whatever it was, until he'd rid himself of those shivers that came over him when he saw Kaiba, until he'd rid himself of the way his chest constricted, his shirt felt too small, something in his ribcage jumped.
But instead he confronted it, confronted him, and it fueled his anger toward the arrogant boy sitting before him and that slim piece of black plastic and metal on his lap.
Kaiba shook a lock of silky brown hair from his eyes and considered him. "I don't need to thank you, mutt. Pulling things from the water is what you retrievers are trained to do, I think."
It flared.
"You'd better shut your mouth, Kaiba, before I decide to do it for you."
One silky brown eyebrow arched, and he could see Kaiba was considering the challenge, and as he thought it, his anger evaporated. He only wanted to prove something---anything---to wipe that stupid smirk off Kaiba's face, to rid him of that ridiculous look of fear that still glittered deep in the blue eyes.
He almost smiled, almost nodded to that voice in his head.
And then waited.
He didn't have to wait long.
Kaiba smirked, the challenge gleaming in his eyes, his mouth quirked in cool good humor. "Oh, I don't know, about that, mutt. You never were very good at word games."
Joey grinned grimly, and stepped forward, noting with pleasure the way Kaiba's eyes widened, the way he shrank into himself, the way a flush became slightly visible against his pale skin. Saw an odd fear rise in the blue eyes.
So. Kaiba was trying to control something as well. He planted his hands on either side of the seated boy, and his grin widened.
"Who said anything about words?"
He didn't know if Kaiba tried to move, tried to say something, because in the indeterminable seconds that stretched between them, he felt Kaiba's warm breath on his cheek and his mind flared.
And then, closing his eyes, he threw caution to the winds, bent his head, and pressed his lips gently---so gently---like sunlight, like water---to Kaiba's.
And then there was nothing except the pounding of his heart in his ears, the silence of the room, and the small movements of Kaiba's mouth against his.
Warm.
He felt the familiar shivers return, felt them skitter across his skin in waves of warmth---of heat---he burned and he wanted more---more heat but already Kaiba was shifting under him so instead of pressing for more, he burned the feel and taste of Kaiba into his mind, satisfying for once that nagging voice in the back of his head---and moved back.
He stared into the warmth of blue eyes, and was swallowed.
* * *
Aria: *looking slightly shell-shocked* Whoa *looks back*. They kissed. I don't know whether I should be surprised or happy that I pulled it off...what do you think? Leave me a review and let me know! And don't worry, this isn't the end. Just because I didn't leave it with as big a cliff-hanger as usual doesn't mean that it's over---there is more to come. Oh yes. And here's a challenge! Who can name me the book where Joey read what to do with hypothermia? I'll give you a hint---it isn't a first-aid book. Whoever guesses right will...um...get something nice. I haven't decided yet. But I need reviews to keep me going! So leave one and let me know what you think! Flames will be used to toast marshmallows.