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'Tis the Season – Chapter 1 (of 7)"Well, what do you think?" Yami wonders, striking a pose. "Isn't this perfect for the season?
He starts, wide-eyed, taking in the leather-clad form of his partner. Not that Yami's choice of material proves unusual, but those colors…
As he takes in the spectacle of the lime green, flare-cut leather pants with the matching jacket flaring at the wrist and waist, accompanied by a long-sleeved, bright red ruffled shirt, the ends of his mouth begin to twitch upward. A snicker, an amused snort, and then he falls into a cascade of laughter, bordering on hysteria, which lasts several minutes.
"S-sorry, Yami," he gasps eventually, wiping tears from his eyes, "but you look…that outfit is just…" Succumbing helplessly to another round of laughter, he throws back his head, covering his eyes with his arm, his form draped carelessly on the large, black leather couch in Yami's living room.
If Yami is hurt by his koi's reaction, he shows no outward sign, still wearing the same amused grin as his lover finally calms himself.
"I'm really sorry, Yami," he rasps. "I'm sure you put a lot of thought into that outfit. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings."
The smaller man smiles brighter, silently climbing into his koi's lap straddling him and sliding his arms around his neck.
"No, I got just the reaction I wanted, Koshi", he whispers before placing a light kiss on the other's lips. Strong arms slide around his waist, drawing him in closer, deepening the kiss with an insistent tongue.
"Mmm," Yami moans into the kiss, reluctantly pulling away. "I'd love to continue this conversation, but I have to get dressed and go do that interview."
"Get dressed? You mean you're not wearing this?" His koi questions quietly, sliding a hand up the front of the lithe form.
"Gods, no," he laughs. "I just wore this to cheer you up!"
He stares after Yami as he climbs from his lap and heads for the stairs.
"To cheer me up?" He questions bewildered.
Yami pauses on the first step, looking over a shoulder at his koi.
"You've been so down these few weeks after this last attempt to find Mokuba failed, and I just wanted to do something to make you feel better. So I had my designer come up with an outfit and my tailor create it and you know the rest. Sit tight, I'll be back down in a few minutes and we can head out."
He turns and jogs up the stairs, an astonished Seto gaping after him.
To think that Yami went through all that trouble just to cheer him up…
He smiles wistfully to himself.
He had been down for a while, but he couldn't help it. This last lead had seemed so promising…Yami had spent all that money and time to track the boy down and fly them to Black Eagle, Montana in America, only for them to be disappointed again. Only for his heart to break once more.
The smallish town, about 10 miles outside of the larger city of Great Falls, Montana where their plane landed, had been completely decked out for the Christmas season. In addition to the huge tree near the center of town and several other trees scattered throughout dripping with lights and decorations, many of the stores and homes in town had also 'pulled out all the stops' in getting ready for the holiday season. At night, the lights from all over lit up the town.
The locals proved very friendly and open to the two odd-looking tourists. Seto knew that he and Yami garnered a myriad of looks and lots of gossip equally for Yami's tri-colored, spiky locks and for his koi's insistence to hold hands everywhere they went. Of course the two scary bodyguards hovering around didn't help any.
It had taken hours to convince Yami to only bring two bodyguards as the well-known, Japanese celebrity had grown accustomed to traveling with at least five, especially after the last stalker had gotten close enough to pull off one of his gloves before the detail of three could subdue him.
"Yami, first, we're going to be in America where none of your stalkers are and, second, we'll be in a town in the middle of nowhere," he'd argued, exasperated by having the conversation again.
"You don't know that," Yami had argued back. "I have several stalkers with money who could easily follow me there. I won't go without protection!"
"I'll protect you! I told you that already."
His koi had smirked at the assertion.
"No offence, Koshi, but I trust my guards more with my safety. They're less likely to lose it completely and go off half-cocked."
The shockingly true statement had hurt him deeply and he'd stormed from Yami's bedroom, planning to spend the night in a guest room instead.
Yami had appeared a few hours later, whispering apologies and words of love in his ear. He explained that he'd be a nervous wreck with just Seto to guard him as he couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to his 'Koshi'. They'd fallen asleep in the guest room, Yami agreeing to take only two bodyguards on the trip.
Seto supposed that concern fueled his koi's need to hold his hand all the time. The hand-holding made him extremely uncomfortable, not because he cared that anyone knew they were together, but because he really hated public displays of affection. What was that old saying some girls at his high school had? Oh yes, PDA are TTFW; Public Displays of Affection are Too Tacky For Words. While he agreed whole-heartedly with that assertion, Yami had no such qualms, needing to be restrained several times from kissing, groping or fondling his koi at dinner in the hotel or while watching the sunset out by a nearby lake or just walking down the street.
They'd stayed a few days until things could be arranged to meet the young man that could have been Mokuba. The people the boy lived with had been visiting a nearby relative for a few days. Seto decided that it would have been inappropriate to approach the boy without his guardians present, so they'd waited.
The large, wood-framed house had loomed at him, intimidating him in a way he couldn't understand. Maybe because it reminded him of the orphanage, the choice of color for its exterior, a muted green, strikingly similar to the worn blankets he and his brother shared all those years ago. They'd knocked on the door, Yami agreeing to stand behind Seto and not hold his hand, and waited for a response.
The investigator had told them the 17 year-old foster child had lived with the elderly couple for five years, ever since he'd stumbled into town from the expanse of woods nearby. Other than his obvious Japanese heritage, nothing else was known about him, not even his name as he'd apparently suffered a traumatic event, which robbed him of the memories of his early years. When the investigator had sent them a picture if the black-haired, taller-than-average teen, Seto's breath had caught at the similarities between this child and his brother. This time he'd found him.
He'd wanted it to be true so badly, that he pushed the investigator to set things up for them to meet, ignoring the one piece of evidence that would have halted his frenzied launch to the States, the one piece of evidence that shook him to his core when he witnessed it in person.
As the youth who opened the door looked up at him with a "Yes, may I help you," in slightly broken English, his heart had fallen.
The eyes. The eyes told him everything he needed to know. Neither the greenish-grey he remembered from his childhood, nor the distinct grey nor green they could have become in the dim evening light reflected back at him. Instead, he stood privy to a warm chocolate, just like the one he remembered from the photograph.
Choking on his disappointment, he'd stumbled off the porch past Yami and the bodyguards and run off into the night. A frantic Yami found him hours later shivering in the snow-covered woods, eyes slightly red from the few tears he couldn't hold back. Yami helped his silent love back to their hotel and held him close all night.
Seto had remained closed and barely aware of anything since that day, even avoiding making love with his koi. His world had been reduced to the office he worked in at the technology giant Kaiba Corp. and he spent many long hours there. He'd leave early in the morning, coming home very late, eating something light and falling into bed without calling his koi all day. The only time Yami got to speak to him would be if he initiated it. In fact, the only reason Seto sat in his living room right now was because Yami pointed out that they hadn't seen each other in more than a week, relying on Seto's innate sense of 'doing the right thing' to propel him. Even then, he'd been closed and unapproachable.
Until Yami's outfit broke through his shell.
As Yami reaches the bottom of the stairs, clad in his usual black leather, crimson tee and accessories, Seto smiles lightly at him, remembering how the flamboyant duelist first entered his life.