Aria: Hey, I got responses! People like me?
Anyway, to my reviewers:
Animom: You just don't miss anything, do you? And knowing you better now, I weigh your good reviews more than I did before---and seeing as I usually weighed them fairly heavily, that's saying a lot. I'm glad you liked my beginning.I hope I can keep it interesting and fresh for readers like you! Not to mention, of course, keeping it interesting for me. Every time I think I'll stop writing JouKai, and I go to write a different story, one just pops out of nowhere, so I guess I'll just go with it.
Sarasusamiga: Your review made my day. No, really. It's not every day I get a well-planned, well phrased, thoughtful review such as yours. However, to keep from slowing down my notes too much, I'll post my reply to your thoughts at the end of this chapter as opposed to the beginning.
Kuroi Karasu: Of course anticipation is good! Good like vanilla ice cream. And leave the poor old man alone.
Yami hoshiko: You've read two other of my stories and you STILL like me? Wow.don't worry, here's the second part up and ready to be enjoyed! It may take me longer to finish the last section, but I'll do my best.
Callisto Firestarter: I'm glad I've caught your interest. And don't think I haven't been thinking of fun ways to involve vanilla ice cream.
Vappa: Yay! Love! Yeah, it's really just kind of a feel-good fic without any of the angst and personality clashes that I usually use. My last fic was so emotionally draining to write that I really needed something just fun and non-antagonistic.
Fire Dragon of Darkness: I am always in search of new and interesting plot lines. I know what you mean---a lot of Seto/Jou plots get used over and over and over.this one may be simple, but it's different. Thanks for picking up on that.
Angel of darkness: *ducks* who would have thought that candy hearts would bruise? Thanks for the love! As per your request, here's the second part of "Vanilla". And of course, you've uncovered my master plan.to force world peace by making everyone who would be fighting go off to find and eat vanilla ice cream! Bwahahaha!
Okay! If you'd like to look over my specific comments to thoughts brought up by Sarasusamiga, they're at the end of this chapter. Thanks to my Beta, Dil, for suggestions and tweakings.
VANILLA
He'd tried to stay awake, he really had.but the powerful effects of flooding sunlight and the green rising smell of warm grass and growing things and a night spent in tossing, restless dreams that left his sheets soaked with sweat, and him awake with a dry throat overcame his feeble defenses, and the book had dropped unnoticed into the soft grass as his fingers relaxed and his eyes had closed into dark warm sleep.
And that was how Kaiba found him, walking along a path in the park for his now customary afternoon working there. Sometimes he sat near Joey, sometimes Joey sat near him, and at others they ignored each other completely, but he always came, now, on the nice days---and it seemed like they were all nice days, recently---to sit and pull out his laptop and work there in the dappled shade, more often than not with a warm, lazy body a few feet or yards away, flipping slowly through---now slightly battered--- pages.
And the warm scent of vanilla rose through the air.
Looking at Joey now, he considered the long loose limbs, flung casually into the deep grass, and the low, even breathing of sleep. Noticed that the fight went completely out of his face and that the worry lines that he hadn't even known were there had softened, and that late afternoon light had a particular slanting effect that was spectacular in the bright hair.
He settled down, his back against a nearby tree, and pulled out his laptop, clicking it on and waiting as it warmed to the task, humming gently against his thighs. Tapping quietly against the keys, he considered the past few weeks. These afternoons in the park seemed to be having a good effect on him---he was sleeping more deeply, refreshed after an afternoon in the sun and shade and brilliantly clear outside air, and he thought it was fair to say that his concentration---always quick and steady---had reached an unprecedented clarity unusual for summer. Usually he spent half his time wishing subconsciously that he could be outside in the beautiful weather, and now that he'd gone along with this wish, he worked better than ever.
Which was why he kept coming back to the park. He didn't mind Joey's company every now and again, and sometimes it was even pleasant, but it certainly wasn't the reason he kept coming back. Although, he had to admit, reluctantly, to his most honest self that the lazy, sprawled body near him seemed to add another aspect of relaxed warmth to the times he spent here, and that it wasn't always as pleasant to work there when Joey wasn't around.
Not to mention the strange craving he'd developed for vanilla ice cream.
Minutes ticked by, sixty and more of them flowing over the sound of soft typing and softer breathing, and Kaiba looked up from his work only when Joey murmured something unintelligible and turned over in his sleep, while the sun shunted slowly to the west in a glowing circle of white-gold light and shadows lengthened, purple in the green grass.
Almost two hours had gone by when Joey woke up. He stretched against the grass and looked over at Kaiba, wondering if maybe he weren't still in his dream.
Kaiba looked up at the movement, amusement touching the corners of his mouth. "Nice nap, pup?" he asked, glancing back down to his screen.
Joey rolled against the grass, stretching out and arching his back against the ground, feeling his back pop into place and lay back with his arms behind his head, closing his eyes again and enjoying the cool grass against the sliver of skin his shirt had risen over and left bare. "Yeah," he said. "What time is it?"
"Almost five," Kaiba said, his fingers skimming quickly over the keyboard and not looking at the mutt. He was almost done.
"Really?" Joey sat up and brushed himself off. "I should probably get going soon, I guess." But to Kaiba's amusement, he did nothing more than to pick up his book and thumb through the pages to where he'd left off.
Silence settled softly between them, and for a while Kaiba worked quickly while Joey read, companionable and only a little awkward in this strangely intimate moment, but for some reason today Kaiba was slightly unnerved by the silence, broken only by his typing or the soft flip of a page being turned.
"No ice cream today?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him.
"No money," Joey replied, his eyes moving back and forth over the tiny print, pausing as he flipped the page. Kaiba remained silent, unsure as to how to proceed, and electing silence as the best way until Joey, still looking at his book, spoke again. Maybe he was feeling the effects of the silence as well, or maybe he genuinely wanted to talk---Kaiba didn't know, and he realized with a sudden sense of liberation that he didn't really care. He could type and talk with Joey at the same time, especially since one or the other of them would, every now and again, fall silent as he tackled a particularly complicated line of programming or an especially complex idea in a paragraph.
Until Kaiba finished his work for the day and shut his laptop with a triumphant snap, packing it away in his briefcase with a cool sense of accomplishment and only a slight regret at having to leave the park, they remained quiet, and now, to his surprise, the mutt stood too, closing his book and stretching slightly. He stretched more than anyone Kaiba had ever known before, but, watching Joey draw himself out to his full height and then a little further, he thought it was fairly typical, considering Joey's inherent tactile nature. He was always touching something---running his hand through his hair, shoving a hand in his pocket, rubbing his face, rubbing his eyes, biting his nails, tracing light patterns on his stomach as he lay in the sun reading.
"Are you going someplace, mutt?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Joey shrugged. "I told you, I should head out. Get back home and all. Like you said," he winked, "there are other things to do with my time than lie here all day, right."
Kaiba said nothing, only packed up the rest of his things and then stood, feeling a little foolish standing in the shade for no reason, especially when he'd just decided to leave.
He turned to go.
"Hey, Kaiba."
He looked back, into Joey's crooked smile.
"How 'bout an ice cream before you go? Eat and walk. I mean," he quirked an ironic eyebrow and grinned, "you can do that, right? Like, Tristan, he tries, and ends up walking into a wall. Every. Time."
"I thought you said you had no money."
"I don't." Joey shrugged. "But I'm pretty sure you have some."
Kaiba almost laughed at this complete lack of logic, surprised, and thought that he should leave, should get home to eat dinner with Mokuba and maybe watch a movie or read a book, since he'd finally finished his day's work, and that before he went, he should leave the pup with a passing cut, some remark to keep him from such ridiculous assertions.
He nodded. "Fine."
The girl in the snack shack gave them an odd look as she handed over two large vanilla cones, but she didn't say anything and they didn't mention it. Instead, they walked along in silence, eating their ice cream and thinking. Or, at least, Kaiba was thinking, so he didn't respond right away when Joey asked him something.
"What?"
"I said, where's the trademark trench? Trip over the hem one too many times?"
Kaiba looked down at himself, remembering that he'd forgone his usual heavy coat today in favor of a light suit, but even that had gotten warm in the late afternoon sun, so he'd taken off the blue jacket, loosened the tie and rolled up the sleeves so that his pale arms could feel the warm sun and cool breeze. He held the jacket now against the silver handle of his briefcase, freeing up his other hand to hold the ice cream cone, enjoying the breeze against the light material of his shirt. He didn't realize that the loose shirt blew against his lean frame, softening it in a way that his trenchcoat usually hid, or that the collar, unbuttoned at the top and only slackly held by the loose tie, fluttered against his pale throat in the breeze, or that he looked casual and slim and undeniably attractive with his dark hair falling over his pale face and blue eyes bright in the slanting light.
So he didn't think much of Joey's comment other than to be vaguely annoyed by it. "I just didn't want to wear it today," he said, swallowing a mouthful of cool vanilla. Joey nodded.
"Fair enough, I guess."
They walked on in much the same quality of silence that Kaiba had worked in earlier that day.warm, slightly awkward, and over all companionable, and it only changed when Kaiba's ice cream started melting.
Joey had eaten his cone fairly quickly, but Kaiba's was only about halfway gone when they got caught up in an only slightly silted conversation on the book Joey still clutched in one tanned hand, so it started melting and dripping in the hot sun, causing Kaiba to stop in mid- sentence when a particularly large glob landed on the hand that held the cone. He looked at it, wondering briefly how to get it off without putting down his jacket and briefcase or getting ice cream all over his face when Joey said, "I'll get that for you," and swiped at it quickly with one long finger and then sucked it off, a sudden strange expression in his warm brown eyes.
Kaiba just looked at him. He grinned, a little sheepishly, and they continued on, both pretending to ignore the spark that had flashed between his finger and Kaiba's white hand. A little further on, Joey excused himself and set off for his house at a saunter that turned into a jog when he turned the corner and then finally a full-out sprint, breath coming ragged in his throat while the taste of vanilla filled his mouth.
For his part, Kaiba watched him go, and then walked purposefully home, finishing his ice cream slowly. Once inside, he placed his briefcase and jacket on his desk and sat in the chair, staring out the window at the beginnings of a glorious sunset, his fingers laced together.
An hour later found him typing quickly, eyes darting over rows of glowing characters until his window was dark and he collapsed into sleep, dark and dreamless, exhausted by work while Joey struggled with dreams and woke with a blazing heat in the middle of the dark morning hours.
* * * * *
They didn't meet in the park for the next few days, which were cool and rainy, although at one point on the afternoon on the third day Joey put on a light coat and went out in the rain, returning forty minutes later with soaking wet hair and a vague sense of disappointment mingling with the fading taste of vanilla in his mouth, and Kaiba made a point of driving by the park on his way back from work, glancing over at the rain-sodden trees and paths and pretending he wasn't looking for Joey. He spent his mornings and afternoons working, had dinner with Mokuba, and then worked again in the evenings, even though he usually deleted whatever he'd done the next morning, typing late into the night and falling into bed and thick sleep, but Joey paced his living room and tried to read up on his bed, but couldn't get comfortable and woke up in the middle of the night from restless, vivid dreams that tossed him from sleep with a speeding pulse and wide eyes.
It was brilliantly clear and warm outside the morning that he woke up with the taste of vanilla in his mouth and a stickiness on his sheets and stomach, and he took a long hot shower before going to the park.
It was already late morning, almost noon, by the time he got there, but he didn't expect to see Kaiba for another hour or more. Not that that was why he had come. He read better in the park. He'd been cooped up inside for days, and it was a beautiful day, and he wanted to be outside, and he went about proving it with an almost violent determination; walking the many different paths, tossing a few crumbs of his lunchtime sandwich to brightly colored ducks on a small pond near the center of the park.but he didn't get ice cream.
Finally, his feet a little sore from all the wandering, he collapsed in a fairly secluded spot, flopping back into sun-dappled grass and closing his eyes, and not wishing for Kaiba to appear out of thin air.
So he didn't really understand the vague frustration he felt when he opened his eyes and Kaiba was not there, not looking down at him through cool blue eyes, not mocking him for bringing a book that he clearly wasn't reading. A little unsettled, he rolled to his stomach and flipped his book open to where he'd left off.
Fifteen minutes later, he rolled to his back and tried to concentrate on the print.
Ten minutes later he moved to a slightly sunnier spot, propping himself up on one elbow with the book in the grass.
Eight minutes after that he gave up completely and flopped to his back, a tanned forearm thrown theatrically across his eyes.
It was no use. He couldn't concentrate without the damned moneybags around, and he couldn't rip his thoughts away from blue eyes or a figure sitting quietly typing.
"Dammit," he swore softly. He half expected a cynically amused reply, but none came, and when he moved his arm, Kaiba---seemingly in a fit of obstinacy---still wasn't there.
Joey sighed and picked up his book again.
Twenty minutes after he'd turned the page out of sheer stubbornness, not having actually absorbed any of the words that were even now dancing in the early afternoon sunlight, he gritted his teeth and prepared to re-read the second paragraph once again. He didn't want to know what time this made it, he just wanted to read the damn book and he would read it if it was the last thing he did.
"Do you know, I don't think you've read a word on that page, pup."
It came from above him, and he blinked, wondering at the sudden vague nausea that threatened to start his stomach clenching. His heart thudded, hard, once into his throat, and then he turned half over, feeling cool grass brush against his stomach.
"Aren't you supposed to be someplace?" he asked Kaiba's left eyebrow. "Like work?"
He didn't glance down, didn't grin, didn't move. Suddenly he wished he hadn't come.
"Lunch break," Kaiba said, shrugging off his blue jacket and draping it over his silvery briefcase before sitting down in a patch of nearby shade. Joey looked back down at his book, but if reading had been impossible before, it certainly wasn't going to happen now. Annoyed, he closed the book and tossed it onto the grass before burying his face in his arms.
"I wasn't aware you took breaks," he muttered into the grass and his arms, smelling his own warm skin, the fresh green grass and, incongruously, vanilla.
He knew he hadn't had ice cream.
Kaiba leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes; letting his hands relax in the cool, dappled grass. "Sometimes." he said.
Joey paused. Or, at least, he felt as though he paused. In reality, he hadn't moved at all, and couldn't pause, and yet he felt his breath hitch the smallest bit, felt a small suspension of movement in the air across his back, in the sunlight that slanted across the grass towards him.
"Sometimes," Kaiba said again, without noticing the sudden tension in the lazy, lanky body stretched out before him. He felt cool breeze against his throat, and absent-mindedly loosened his tie.
He liked how he could be absent-minded here.
There was enough of a certain well-known dreaminess in his voice that Joey had to look up, and he saw Kaiba's white throat pale in the warm summer light, saw a loose light shirt and the way it creased against Kaiba's lean chest and stomach, how the delicate fingers threaded through silky green grass. He saw fine dark lashes flutter slightly against pale cheeks, and one thin brown eyebrow twitched in response to a sudden and temporary shift of light and shadow over Kaiba's face.
He tasted vanilla; warm vanilla as it slipped down the cone to land on Kaiba's white hand, tasted it slowly as he looked at Kaiba.
He stood up, and Kaiba, opening his eyes, caught one solid look into panic-stricken grey-brown eyes, and sat in silence as Joey turned and walked quickly away.
He looked down, and picked up gently the book that Joey had left there in his haste to get away.
* * * * *
Trying to read the next few days was fruitless. Not only had he left his book in the park with Kaiba, but trying to start the other book he'd bought was just a complete mistake. He kept finding himself longing for the warmth of the park, the sweet green grass and a vanilla ice cream. "But I can't go," he reminded himself loudly, sitting in the dreary kitchenette and toying with the crusts of his sandwich. "Kaiba's there--- at least I think he's there---not like it matters, but---"
The crust fell apart, and he swept the crumbs violently off the tabletop, sitting back in his chair and glaring at the innocent shelves opposite.
"Dammit," he swore softly, and grabbed his keys and a handful of loose change. He was only going for ice cream. And to get his book back, if Kaiba was there.
Not that he wanted Kaiba to be there. Truth, he was a little freaked out by his recent reactions to the other boy, more so because, though Kaiba had frequently been prevalent in his dreams, he had always played the role of aggressor, or tormentor. Those had been nightmares. He wasn't used to having Kaiba in any other kind of dream, and when he woke up---
"Dammit," he said again, and pushed the door open.
* * * * *
He wandered the park, his hands pushed stubbornly into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunched, kicking stones and taking grim pleasure in their rattling as they skittered off the path. The sun was gorgeous, but he didn't look up it, and hardly noticed the play of light and shade against his slouched back, or the feel of root and soil under his sneakers. There were children laughing, playing hide-and-seek in the nearby edge of woods, hiding in latticed branches or behind wiry bushes, thick with leaves, but all the notice he took was to side-step slightly when a pair came rushing by, tripping only slightly over the roots in the path.
He'd been wandering for some time, without any change in his mood or bearing, choosing instead, to glare uselessly at the path before him, hardly looking from one side to another. He was annoyed that he had come--- annoyed that he was wandering with no purpose---annoyed that he hadn't found Kaiba---annoyed, as soon as he realized, that he was even looking for Kaiba. Not that he was looking for Kaiba. But Kaiba had his book, and---
"Dammit." It was becoming a mantra of sorts. His eyes narrowed, and then closed, and then he straightened with a sigh, looking up into gently rustling leaves, noticing the freshness of the breeze against his neck and feeling his back and shoulders crack back into place as he rolled his head loosely and shrugged a few times. He was most annoyed that he was deliberately avoiding the place he thought Kaiba most likely to be, just because he didn't want to see him. Or maybe he did---too much, and therefore had to stay away. He didn't want to understand what made him react so oddly to the other boy---certainly they had been friendly of late, but that was hardly cause for---and even if it was, then it was fairly certain that nothing could ever come of it. Joey sighed a little, and sat down against a nearby tree, resting his head back against the rough bark and closing his eyes.
Okay, he told himself sternly. Time to be honest. It's a crush, right? You've had crushes before. You know the symptoms: speeding pulse. Staring. Plotting ways to meet "accidentally". Dreams.
Especially dreams.
"So I've got a crush," he muttered quietly to the tree. "So what?"
Yeah. That's the question, isn't it? Because you've seen what happens when it's a one-sided thing, haven't you? You've been there yourself a few times. And you always get over it---people do---but it still stings, doesn't it? And this one has a real potential to sting you back. What if he doesn't like guys? What if he likes guys, but doesn't like you? After all, you used to hate each other.
"Or something," Joey agreed.
Or something, yeah. But now.
"It's like vanilla," he said.
Yeah. Like the vanilla. You didn't want it, but took it anyway, because you wanted ice cream. Like you didn't want to talk to Kaiba---
"Seto," he insisted, quietly.
Yeah. Seto. Like you didn't want to talk to him, but you did because he was the only one there and you wanted to talk.and then.it was like the vanilla. You ended up liking it.
Liking him.
"Yeah."
And now you crave it. All those times, sitting talking with him, you wanted vanilla. And every time you had vanilla, you wanted to see him, too.
I wonder if he knows?
Joey thought back, over their meetings in the park, about the wary surprise in Kaiba's eyes, about the drip of vanilla that slid down his cone and landed on the pale hand, about meeting, without planning, and sitting together. About talking together. About the last few times he'd seen him.
I bet he does, he thought. If I were in his place, I wouldn't know. Too oblivious. But he's used to seeing things no one else sees. Details. Little things.
If anyone knows, he does.
So, he thought, cracking his knuckles and looking around a little absently, what am I going to do about it?
That was the real question, right there. No matter how sensible he decided to be, no matter how many times he'd thought things through, that one question still threw him for a complete loop. Because every one of the scenarios in his head could never be acted on, couldn't ever really be brought actively into play because, let's face it, Kaiba would freak out. Well, maybe not. He grinned a little at the idea of Kaiba freaking out, and decided that seeing the other red and angry and yelling at the top of his lungs would probably be more amusing than anything else.
If it didn't work out, he supposed he could always have some fun with it.
But that wasn't the real issue.the real issue was, of course, some way to get Kaiba into a suitably romantic situation where Kaiba---and here Joey was enjoying his idea of a Kaiba within Kaiba, one who mightn't be annoyed by the whole thing but instead would confess his undying devotion.or something---could remain calm and he, Joey, could have at least one back-up plan, if not four. Or five.
Of course, he thought a little ruefully, any planning he did wouldn't have any impact on the situation whatever, since he knew without a hope of ambiguity that he would toss aside plans and strategies at the last second, and throw himself recklessly in. Which could work, conceivably, but which probably wouldn't.
It almost never did.
"Dammit," he repeated softly to himself, and closed his eyes.
* * * * *
Aria: As promised, here are some more in-depth notes, brought to my attention by Sarasusamiga. Thanks!
--...Like Joey, I'm a bit taken aback by Kaiba's apparent willingness to be friendly. My sense of Seto is that he'd try to stomp out any internal tendrils of interest in non-Kaiba people--they'd seem too much like vulnerabilities to him.--
It's true that in general, Seto wouldn't be quite so friendly as he is portrayed here. And I don't usually write him this way, either-it's very much a stylistic difference for me. The story was started just after I had finished another, fairly grueling one, which featured a much more IC Seto. My rationalization is that he's caught by surprise, not only by Joey's friendliness, but also by the fact that he has been caught relaxing in the park at all. Having Seto go to the park and having him become friendlier seemed to go hand in hand. His surprise led to a momentary glitch in the wall.
--But, hey, I don't mind seeing him acting a little better adjusted for a change!--
Me neither! ^_^
--Query about this portion: '"It's an interesting concept," Kaiba answered slowly, staring at the screen in front of him and trying to ignore the sudden slight climb of his pulse. He shifted a little, uneasy in this sudden lack of tension [...]"--
--Wouldn't a rising pulse cause Kaiba to feel *more* tense? Or is he uneasy about Joey's lack of hostility?--
This part was a little unclear, and I apologize for that. I meant to be ironic in saying that, because there was a lack of tension between Joey and Seto, Seto's own personal tension rises on its own, and we can tell by his speeding pulse.
--And is the parallel between the character Joey describes and Joey's own personality apparent to either Seto or Joey? (I don't know the stories you're referring to, though, so I'm not sure whether the character is actually more like Seto--who's awkward and not-quite-getting-it in a completely different way.)--
The original book I refer to is called "Good Omens" by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and the character I mentioned isn't really a main one, but rather a minor side character that nevertheless has the opportunity to save the world. I wasn't really thinking about how that applies to Joey, so I can't really tell you if it's apparent to either of them, since I seem to have missed it myself! But you're right. He does have aspects of both Seto and Joey, although he's more completely like Joey. The second book I refer to is called "Neverwhere", by Neil Gaiman, and has a similar character, who is actually more the way that I seem to be writing Seto.
I'm not sure if any of that made sense, but thanks again for the questions, and be sure to let me know if any of you have any more! Making me think about my stories is good.
Cheers!
-- Aria
Anyway, to my reviewers:
Animom: You just don't miss anything, do you? And knowing you better now, I weigh your good reviews more than I did before---and seeing as I usually weighed them fairly heavily, that's saying a lot. I'm glad you liked my beginning.I hope I can keep it interesting and fresh for readers like you! Not to mention, of course, keeping it interesting for me. Every time I think I'll stop writing JouKai, and I go to write a different story, one just pops out of nowhere, so I guess I'll just go with it.
Sarasusamiga: Your review made my day. No, really. It's not every day I get a well-planned, well phrased, thoughtful review such as yours. However, to keep from slowing down my notes too much, I'll post my reply to your thoughts at the end of this chapter as opposed to the beginning.
Kuroi Karasu: Of course anticipation is good! Good like vanilla ice cream. And leave the poor old man alone.
Yami hoshiko: You've read two other of my stories and you STILL like me? Wow.don't worry, here's the second part up and ready to be enjoyed! It may take me longer to finish the last section, but I'll do my best.
Callisto Firestarter: I'm glad I've caught your interest. And don't think I haven't been thinking of fun ways to involve vanilla ice cream.
Vappa: Yay! Love! Yeah, it's really just kind of a feel-good fic without any of the angst and personality clashes that I usually use. My last fic was so emotionally draining to write that I really needed something just fun and non-antagonistic.
Fire Dragon of Darkness: I am always in search of new and interesting plot lines. I know what you mean---a lot of Seto/Jou plots get used over and over and over.this one may be simple, but it's different. Thanks for picking up on that.
Angel of darkness: *ducks* who would have thought that candy hearts would bruise? Thanks for the love! As per your request, here's the second part of "Vanilla". And of course, you've uncovered my master plan.to force world peace by making everyone who would be fighting go off to find and eat vanilla ice cream! Bwahahaha!
Okay! If you'd like to look over my specific comments to thoughts brought up by Sarasusamiga, they're at the end of this chapter. Thanks to my Beta, Dil, for suggestions and tweakings.
VANILLA
He'd tried to stay awake, he really had.but the powerful effects of flooding sunlight and the green rising smell of warm grass and growing things and a night spent in tossing, restless dreams that left his sheets soaked with sweat, and him awake with a dry throat overcame his feeble defenses, and the book had dropped unnoticed into the soft grass as his fingers relaxed and his eyes had closed into dark warm sleep.
And that was how Kaiba found him, walking along a path in the park for his now customary afternoon working there. Sometimes he sat near Joey, sometimes Joey sat near him, and at others they ignored each other completely, but he always came, now, on the nice days---and it seemed like they were all nice days, recently---to sit and pull out his laptop and work there in the dappled shade, more often than not with a warm, lazy body a few feet or yards away, flipping slowly through---now slightly battered--- pages.
And the warm scent of vanilla rose through the air.
Looking at Joey now, he considered the long loose limbs, flung casually into the deep grass, and the low, even breathing of sleep. Noticed that the fight went completely out of his face and that the worry lines that he hadn't even known were there had softened, and that late afternoon light had a particular slanting effect that was spectacular in the bright hair.
He settled down, his back against a nearby tree, and pulled out his laptop, clicking it on and waiting as it warmed to the task, humming gently against his thighs. Tapping quietly against the keys, he considered the past few weeks. These afternoons in the park seemed to be having a good effect on him---he was sleeping more deeply, refreshed after an afternoon in the sun and shade and brilliantly clear outside air, and he thought it was fair to say that his concentration---always quick and steady---had reached an unprecedented clarity unusual for summer. Usually he spent half his time wishing subconsciously that he could be outside in the beautiful weather, and now that he'd gone along with this wish, he worked better than ever.
Which was why he kept coming back to the park. He didn't mind Joey's company every now and again, and sometimes it was even pleasant, but it certainly wasn't the reason he kept coming back. Although, he had to admit, reluctantly, to his most honest self that the lazy, sprawled body near him seemed to add another aspect of relaxed warmth to the times he spent here, and that it wasn't always as pleasant to work there when Joey wasn't around.
Not to mention the strange craving he'd developed for vanilla ice cream.
Minutes ticked by, sixty and more of them flowing over the sound of soft typing and softer breathing, and Kaiba looked up from his work only when Joey murmured something unintelligible and turned over in his sleep, while the sun shunted slowly to the west in a glowing circle of white-gold light and shadows lengthened, purple in the green grass.
Almost two hours had gone by when Joey woke up. He stretched against the grass and looked over at Kaiba, wondering if maybe he weren't still in his dream.
Kaiba looked up at the movement, amusement touching the corners of his mouth. "Nice nap, pup?" he asked, glancing back down to his screen.
Joey rolled against the grass, stretching out and arching his back against the ground, feeling his back pop into place and lay back with his arms behind his head, closing his eyes again and enjoying the cool grass against the sliver of skin his shirt had risen over and left bare. "Yeah," he said. "What time is it?"
"Almost five," Kaiba said, his fingers skimming quickly over the keyboard and not looking at the mutt. He was almost done.
"Really?" Joey sat up and brushed himself off. "I should probably get going soon, I guess." But to Kaiba's amusement, he did nothing more than to pick up his book and thumb through the pages to where he'd left off.
Silence settled softly between them, and for a while Kaiba worked quickly while Joey read, companionable and only a little awkward in this strangely intimate moment, but for some reason today Kaiba was slightly unnerved by the silence, broken only by his typing or the soft flip of a page being turned.
"No ice cream today?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him.
"No money," Joey replied, his eyes moving back and forth over the tiny print, pausing as he flipped the page. Kaiba remained silent, unsure as to how to proceed, and electing silence as the best way until Joey, still looking at his book, spoke again. Maybe he was feeling the effects of the silence as well, or maybe he genuinely wanted to talk---Kaiba didn't know, and he realized with a sudden sense of liberation that he didn't really care. He could type and talk with Joey at the same time, especially since one or the other of them would, every now and again, fall silent as he tackled a particularly complicated line of programming or an especially complex idea in a paragraph.
Until Kaiba finished his work for the day and shut his laptop with a triumphant snap, packing it away in his briefcase with a cool sense of accomplishment and only a slight regret at having to leave the park, they remained quiet, and now, to his surprise, the mutt stood too, closing his book and stretching slightly. He stretched more than anyone Kaiba had ever known before, but, watching Joey draw himself out to his full height and then a little further, he thought it was fairly typical, considering Joey's inherent tactile nature. He was always touching something---running his hand through his hair, shoving a hand in his pocket, rubbing his face, rubbing his eyes, biting his nails, tracing light patterns on his stomach as he lay in the sun reading.
"Are you going someplace, mutt?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Joey shrugged. "I told you, I should head out. Get back home and all. Like you said," he winked, "there are other things to do with my time than lie here all day, right."
Kaiba said nothing, only packed up the rest of his things and then stood, feeling a little foolish standing in the shade for no reason, especially when he'd just decided to leave.
He turned to go.
"Hey, Kaiba."
He looked back, into Joey's crooked smile.
"How 'bout an ice cream before you go? Eat and walk. I mean," he quirked an ironic eyebrow and grinned, "you can do that, right? Like, Tristan, he tries, and ends up walking into a wall. Every. Time."
"I thought you said you had no money."
"I don't." Joey shrugged. "But I'm pretty sure you have some."
Kaiba almost laughed at this complete lack of logic, surprised, and thought that he should leave, should get home to eat dinner with Mokuba and maybe watch a movie or read a book, since he'd finally finished his day's work, and that before he went, he should leave the pup with a passing cut, some remark to keep him from such ridiculous assertions.
He nodded. "Fine."
The girl in the snack shack gave them an odd look as she handed over two large vanilla cones, but she didn't say anything and they didn't mention it. Instead, they walked along in silence, eating their ice cream and thinking. Or, at least, Kaiba was thinking, so he didn't respond right away when Joey asked him something.
"What?"
"I said, where's the trademark trench? Trip over the hem one too many times?"
Kaiba looked down at himself, remembering that he'd forgone his usual heavy coat today in favor of a light suit, but even that had gotten warm in the late afternoon sun, so he'd taken off the blue jacket, loosened the tie and rolled up the sleeves so that his pale arms could feel the warm sun and cool breeze. He held the jacket now against the silver handle of his briefcase, freeing up his other hand to hold the ice cream cone, enjoying the breeze against the light material of his shirt. He didn't realize that the loose shirt blew against his lean frame, softening it in a way that his trenchcoat usually hid, or that the collar, unbuttoned at the top and only slackly held by the loose tie, fluttered against his pale throat in the breeze, or that he looked casual and slim and undeniably attractive with his dark hair falling over his pale face and blue eyes bright in the slanting light.
So he didn't think much of Joey's comment other than to be vaguely annoyed by it. "I just didn't want to wear it today," he said, swallowing a mouthful of cool vanilla. Joey nodded.
"Fair enough, I guess."
They walked on in much the same quality of silence that Kaiba had worked in earlier that day.warm, slightly awkward, and over all companionable, and it only changed when Kaiba's ice cream started melting.
Joey had eaten his cone fairly quickly, but Kaiba's was only about halfway gone when they got caught up in an only slightly silted conversation on the book Joey still clutched in one tanned hand, so it started melting and dripping in the hot sun, causing Kaiba to stop in mid- sentence when a particularly large glob landed on the hand that held the cone. He looked at it, wondering briefly how to get it off without putting down his jacket and briefcase or getting ice cream all over his face when Joey said, "I'll get that for you," and swiped at it quickly with one long finger and then sucked it off, a sudden strange expression in his warm brown eyes.
Kaiba just looked at him. He grinned, a little sheepishly, and they continued on, both pretending to ignore the spark that had flashed between his finger and Kaiba's white hand. A little further on, Joey excused himself and set off for his house at a saunter that turned into a jog when he turned the corner and then finally a full-out sprint, breath coming ragged in his throat while the taste of vanilla filled his mouth.
For his part, Kaiba watched him go, and then walked purposefully home, finishing his ice cream slowly. Once inside, he placed his briefcase and jacket on his desk and sat in the chair, staring out the window at the beginnings of a glorious sunset, his fingers laced together.
An hour later found him typing quickly, eyes darting over rows of glowing characters until his window was dark and he collapsed into sleep, dark and dreamless, exhausted by work while Joey struggled with dreams and woke with a blazing heat in the middle of the dark morning hours.
* * * * *
They didn't meet in the park for the next few days, which were cool and rainy, although at one point on the afternoon on the third day Joey put on a light coat and went out in the rain, returning forty minutes later with soaking wet hair and a vague sense of disappointment mingling with the fading taste of vanilla in his mouth, and Kaiba made a point of driving by the park on his way back from work, glancing over at the rain-sodden trees and paths and pretending he wasn't looking for Joey. He spent his mornings and afternoons working, had dinner with Mokuba, and then worked again in the evenings, even though he usually deleted whatever he'd done the next morning, typing late into the night and falling into bed and thick sleep, but Joey paced his living room and tried to read up on his bed, but couldn't get comfortable and woke up in the middle of the night from restless, vivid dreams that tossed him from sleep with a speeding pulse and wide eyes.
It was brilliantly clear and warm outside the morning that he woke up with the taste of vanilla in his mouth and a stickiness on his sheets and stomach, and he took a long hot shower before going to the park.
It was already late morning, almost noon, by the time he got there, but he didn't expect to see Kaiba for another hour or more. Not that that was why he had come. He read better in the park. He'd been cooped up inside for days, and it was a beautiful day, and he wanted to be outside, and he went about proving it with an almost violent determination; walking the many different paths, tossing a few crumbs of his lunchtime sandwich to brightly colored ducks on a small pond near the center of the park.but he didn't get ice cream.
Finally, his feet a little sore from all the wandering, he collapsed in a fairly secluded spot, flopping back into sun-dappled grass and closing his eyes, and not wishing for Kaiba to appear out of thin air.
So he didn't really understand the vague frustration he felt when he opened his eyes and Kaiba was not there, not looking down at him through cool blue eyes, not mocking him for bringing a book that he clearly wasn't reading. A little unsettled, he rolled to his stomach and flipped his book open to where he'd left off.
Fifteen minutes later, he rolled to his back and tried to concentrate on the print.
Ten minutes later he moved to a slightly sunnier spot, propping himself up on one elbow with the book in the grass.
Eight minutes after that he gave up completely and flopped to his back, a tanned forearm thrown theatrically across his eyes.
It was no use. He couldn't concentrate without the damned moneybags around, and he couldn't rip his thoughts away from blue eyes or a figure sitting quietly typing.
"Dammit," he swore softly. He half expected a cynically amused reply, but none came, and when he moved his arm, Kaiba---seemingly in a fit of obstinacy---still wasn't there.
Joey sighed and picked up his book again.
Twenty minutes after he'd turned the page out of sheer stubbornness, not having actually absorbed any of the words that were even now dancing in the early afternoon sunlight, he gritted his teeth and prepared to re-read the second paragraph once again. He didn't want to know what time this made it, he just wanted to read the damn book and he would read it if it was the last thing he did.
"Do you know, I don't think you've read a word on that page, pup."
It came from above him, and he blinked, wondering at the sudden vague nausea that threatened to start his stomach clenching. His heart thudded, hard, once into his throat, and then he turned half over, feeling cool grass brush against his stomach.
"Aren't you supposed to be someplace?" he asked Kaiba's left eyebrow. "Like work?"
He didn't glance down, didn't grin, didn't move. Suddenly he wished he hadn't come.
"Lunch break," Kaiba said, shrugging off his blue jacket and draping it over his silvery briefcase before sitting down in a patch of nearby shade. Joey looked back down at his book, but if reading had been impossible before, it certainly wasn't going to happen now. Annoyed, he closed the book and tossed it onto the grass before burying his face in his arms.
"I wasn't aware you took breaks," he muttered into the grass and his arms, smelling his own warm skin, the fresh green grass and, incongruously, vanilla.
He knew he hadn't had ice cream.
Kaiba leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes; letting his hands relax in the cool, dappled grass. "Sometimes." he said.
Joey paused. Or, at least, he felt as though he paused. In reality, he hadn't moved at all, and couldn't pause, and yet he felt his breath hitch the smallest bit, felt a small suspension of movement in the air across his back, in the sunlight that slanted across the grass towards him.
"Sometimes," Kaiba said again, without noticing the sudden tension in the lazy, lanky body stretched out before him. He felt cool breeze against his throat, and absent-mindedly loosened his tie.
He liked how he could be absent-minded here.
There was enough of a certain well-known dreaminess in his voice that Joey had to look up, and he saw Kaiba's white throat pale in the warm summer light, saw a loose light shirt and the way it creased against Kaiba's lean chest and stomach, how the delicate fingers threaded through silky green grass. He saw fine dark lashes flutter slightly against pale cheeks, and one thin brown eyebrow twitched in response to a sudden and temporary shift of light and shadow over Kaiba's face.
He tasted vanilla; warm vanilla as it slipped down the cone to land on Kaiba's white hand, tasted it slowly as he looked at Kaiba.
He stood up, and Kaiba, opening his eyes, caught one solid look into panic-stricken grey-brown eyes, and sat in silence as Joey turned and walked quickly away.
He looked down, and picked up gently the book that Joey had left there in his haste to get away.
* * * * *
Trying to read the next few days was fruitless. Not only had he left his book in the park with Kaiba, but trying to start the other book he'd bought was just a complete mistake. He kept finding himself longing for the warmth of the park, the sweet green grass and a vanilla ice cream. "But I can't go," he reminded himself loudly, sitting in the dreary kitchenette and toying with the crusts of his sandwich. "Kaiba's there--- at least I think he's there---not like it matters, but---"
The crust fell apart, and he swept the crumbs violently off the tabletop, sitting back in his chair and glaring at the innocent shelves opposite.
"Dammit," he swore softly, and grabbed his keys and a handful of loose change. He was only going for ice cream. And to get his book back, if Kaiba was there.
Not that he wanted Kaiba to be there. Truth, he was a little freaked out by his recent reactions to the other boy, more so because, though Kaiba had frequently been prevalent in his dreams, he had always played the role of aggressor, or tormentor. Those had been nightmares. He wasn't used to having Kaiba in any other kind of dream, and when he woke up---
"Dammit," he said again, and pushed the door open.
* * * * *
He wandered the park, his hands pushed stubbornly into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunched, kicking stones and taking grim pleasure in their rattling as they skittered off the path. The sun was gorgeous, but he didn't look up it, and hardly noticed the play of light and shade against his slouched back, or the feel of root and soil under his sneakers. There were children laughing, playing hide-and-seek in the nearby edge of woods, hiding in latticed branches or behind wiry bushes, thick with leaves, but all the notice he took was to side-step slightly when a pair came rushing by, tripping only slightly over the roots in the path.
He'd been wandering for some time, without any change in his mood or bearing, choosing instead, to glare uselessly at the path before him, hardly looking from one side to another. He was annoyed that he had come--- annoyed that he was wandering with no purpose---annoyed that he hadn't found Kaiba---annoyed, as soon as he realized, that he was even looking for Kaiba. Not that he was looking for Kaiba. But Kaiba had his book, and---
"Dammit." It was becoming a mantra of sorts. His eyes narrowed, and then closed, and then he straightened with a sigh, looking up into gently rustling leaves, noticing the freshness of the breeze against his neck and feeling his back and shoulders crack back into place as he rolled his head loosely and shrugged a few times. He was most annoyed that he was deliberately avoiding the place he thought Kaiba most likely to be, just because he didn't want to see him. Or maybe he did---too much, and therefore had to stay away. He didn't want to understand what made him react so oddly to the other boy---certainly they had been friendly of late, but that was hardly cause for---and even if it was, then it was fairly certain that nothing could ever come of it. Joey sighed a little, and sat down against a nearby tree, resting his head back against the rough bark and closing his eyes.
Okay, he told himself sternly. Time to be honest. It's a crush, right? You've had crushes before. You know the symptoms: speeding pulse. Staring. Plotting ways to meet "accidentally". Dreams.
Especially dreams.
"So I've got a crush," he muttered quietly to the tree. "So what?"
Yeah. That's the question, isn't it? Because you've seen what happens when it's a one-sided thing, haven't you? You've been there yourself a few times. And you always get over it---people do---but it still stings, doesn't it? And this one has a real potential to sting you back. What if he doesn't like guys? What if he likes guys, but doesn't like you? After all, you used to hate each other.
"Or something," Joey agreed.
Or something, yeah. But now.
"It's like vanilla," he said.
Yeah. Like the vanilla. You didn't want it, but took it anyway, because you wanted ice cream. Like you didn't want to talk to Kaiba---
"Seto," he insisted, quietly.
Yeah. Seto. Like you didn't want to talk to him, but you did because he was the only one there and you wanted to talk.and then.it was like the vanilla. You ended up liking it.
Liking him.
"Yeah."
And now you crave it. All those times, sitting talking with him, you wanted vanilla. And every time you had vanilla, you wanted to see him, too.
I wonder if he knows?
Joey thought back, over their meetings in the park, about the wary surprise in Kaiba's eyes, about the drip of vanilla that slid down his cone and landed on the pale hand, about meeting, without planning, and sitting together. About talking together. About the last few times he'd seen him.
I bet he does, he thought. If I were in his place, I wouldn't know. Too oblivious. But he's used to seeing things no one else sees. Details. Little things.
If anyone knows, he does.
So, he thought, cracking his knuckles and looking around a little absently, what am I going to do about it?
That was the real question, right there. No matter how sensible he decided to be, no matter how many times he'd thought things through, that one question still threw him for a complete loop. Because every one of the scenarios in his head could never be acted on, couldn't ever really be brought actively into play because, let's face it, Kaiba would freak out. Well, maybe not. He grinned a little at the idea of Kaiba freaking out, and decided that seeing the other red and angry and yelling at the top of his lungs would probably be more amusing than anything else.
If it didn't work out, he supposed he could always have some fun with it.
But that wasn't the real issue.the real issue was, of course, some way to get Kaiba into a suitably romantic situation where Kaiba---and here Joey was enjoying his idea of a Kaiba within Kaiba, one who mightn't be annoyed by the whole thing but instead would confess his undying devotion.or something---could remain calm and he, Joey, could have at least one back-up plan, if not four. Or five.
Of course, he thought a little ruefully, any planning he did wouldn't have any impact on the situation whatever, since he knew without a hope of ambiguity that he would toss aside plans and strategies at the last second, and throw himself recklessly in. Which could work, conceivably, but which probably wouldn't.
It almost never did.
"Dammit," he repeated softly to himself, and closed his eyes.
* * * * *
Aria: As promised, here are some more in-depth notes, brought to my attention by Sarasusamiga. Thanks!
--...Like Joey, I'm a bit taken aback by Kaiba's apparent willingness to be friendly. My sense of Seto is that he'd try to stomp out any internal tendrils of interest in non-Kaiba people--they'd seem too much like vulnerabilities to him.--
It's true that in general, Seto wouldn't be quite so friendly as he is portrayed here. And I don't usually write him this way, either-it's very much a stylistic difference for me. The story was started just after I had finished another, fairly grueling one, which featured a much more IC Seto. My rationalization is that he's caught by surprise, not only by Joey's friendliness, but also by the fact that he has been caught relaxing in the park at all. Having Seto go to the park and having him become friendlier seemed to go hand in hand. His surprise led to a momentary glitch in the wall.
--But, hey, I don't mind seeing him acting a little better adjusted for a change!--
Me neither! ^_^
--Query about this portion: '"It's an interesting concept," Kaiba answered slowly, staring at the screen in front of him and trying to ignore the sudden slight climb of his pulse. He shifted a little, uneasy in this sudden lack of tension [...]"--
--Wouldn't a rising pulse cause Kaiba to feel *more* tense? Or is he uneasy about Joey's lack of hostility?--
This part was a little unclear, and I apologize for that. I meant to be ironic in saying that, because there was a lack of tension between Joey and Seto, Seto's own personal tension rises on its own, and we can tell by his speeding pulse.
--And is the parallel between the character Joey describes and Joey's own personality apparent to either Seto or Joey? (I don't know the stories you're referring to, though, so I'm not sure whether the character is actually more like Seto--who's awkward and not-quite-getting-it in a completely different way.)--
The original book I refer to is called "Good Omens" by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and the character I mentioned isn't really a main one, but rather a minor side character that nevertheless has the opportunity to save the world. I wasn't really thinking about how that applies to Joey, so I can't really tell you if it's apparent to either of them, since I seem to have missed it myself! But you're right. He does have aspects of both Seto and Joey, although he's more completely like Joey. The second book I refer to is called "Neverwhere", by Neil Gaiman, and has a similar character, who is actually more the way that I seem to be writing Seto.
I'm not sure if any of that made sense, but thanks again for the questions, and be sure to let me know if any of you have any more! Making me think about my stories is good.
Cheers!
-- Aria