A/N: Hello! I managed to get this chapter finished beforehand so I thought I'd go ahead and post it. Enjoy!
October 11th, Domino City, Japan. 12:00 PM JST.
In the four days that had passed by since Mokuba's ludicrous decision to hire a bodyguard on Seto's behalf, the blue-eyed CEO found himself with a temper even shorter than usual. Five employees had already been fired under his jurisdiction (though, try as he might, Seto was sure that his younger brother and HR had quietly swept his outbursts under the rug and kept the incompetent employees on the KaibaCorp payroll in spite of their termination) and God only knew how many more would face the wrath of his unabashed tyranny.
He's resolved to busy himself with multiple reports on the last financial quarter's statistics and as blue hues skim over the numerous infographics, charts, and tightly-packed numbers. Pianist's fingers skim expertly over the keyboard as Seto hunkers down to complete the busywork at hand.
It's a welcome distraction, really, for even the slightest moment of idleness led Seto back full-circle until his blood boiled over the impending doom looming overhead.
To Mokuba's credit, Seto had been granted with a very stable ninety-six hours to gather his bearings.
His hands slow in their tapping just as the phone settled atop his desk lets out a loud, shrill ring. He stares blankly at it for a long moment.
Damn . Looks like his fleeting sense of peace was about to be shattered.
Biting back a low growl, Seto picks the phone up and holds the receiver to his ear.
"Make it quick." He doesn't bother masking the cutting edge slicing through his words.
"Aw, you could at least pretend to be a little happy to hear from me, 'nii-san!"
Mokuba's chipper tone causes the seedling of a migraine to pound lightly at the back of his head. Seto exhales a strained sigh through his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose as he does. "Don't 'nii-san me right now, Mokuba," he warns, though his words lack any real intent behind them.
"Okay, well, fine. But! I have good news."
"Something tells me that whatever it is you're about to say hardly qualifies as good or as news to me."
Mokuba continues as if Seto's dry, irritated aside didn't even register. "Come to the boardroom in fifteen!"
"Mokuba-" his groan falls on a dead phone-line and with a tired, irritated grunt, Seto all but drops the receiver back into its designated slot. " Christ ."
He can't help but feel as if the entire debacle at hand is nothing more than a sick, cosmic joke; he had never been the type of man that believed in the will of a higher power. The concept of spirituality had been lost on him long ago, back when he was just a little boy.
Gozaburo Kaiba's very being disproved the existence of any sort of benevolent deity, after all.
But after chasing behind Yugi and his squad of dweebs for the sake of ancient Egyptian artifacts, even he had to admit that sometimes, things were certainly out of his control. The very thought makes him cringe, but the vexing reality of a world outside of his own hands had to be confronted nonetheless.
Heaving one last groan of exhaustion, Seto pushes himself away from his desk with a sharp movement. The gears turning in his head were already working to plan out the most effective methods to evade whatever poor sod had the misfortune of being tied to his side. Seto always had been and always would be a solitary worker. His greatest breakthroughs as a child prodigy and adult alike had been the fruits of lonesome labor.
His step-father had raised him to be smarter than any supercomputer - and he intended to use his superior intellect to outsmart the brainless beefcake tasked with overseeing his movements. The thought alone is enough to make him smirk smugly.
He's worrying over nothing; he merely needed to appease Mokuba and keep the ball rolling. A piece of cake.
"Let's get this over with," Seto grumbles to himself as hands move to adjust his trenchcoat.
The last twenty-four hours had been a blur and Jou could hardly make sense of it. After confirming that he had packed a majority of his belongings with Mokuba, the younger Kaiba had instructed him to venture his way to JFK the following afternoon.
Jou wasn't sure what he had expected, but after finding his designated point of travel, he was taken to a private hangar. He was mystified, realizing now that the richest of the rich had been traveling under his nose the whole time.
When he looked up, though, the blonde found himself mildly disappointed. A part of him had half-expected the private KaibaCorp jet to take on the form of a dragon. He was certain that Kaiba, himself, had flown in on a stylized Blue Eyes White Dragon before — but maybe the prick was just too selfish to share his favorite reptilian models with the likes of him.
The jet had been serviced with enough champagne and wine to last a man a lifetime — and while Jou had hesitated at first, he found himself indulging in a glass or five an hour after take-off. Free booze was free booze — and who knew when he'd next find himself with an opportunity as handsome as this one.
Six hours into the flight, he had managed to knock out in one of the plush, luxurious seats settled next to the window - and when he finally came to, he was nursing the beginnings of a throbbing, hang-over induced headache and had only two hours left before touchdown.
It was then that he stared out the window of his cabin and watched the dense layer of cottony-white clouds slip beneath the plane. The reality of the situation was finally beginning to sink in - and he almost wished he was drunk again. The previous warmth that had pleasantly coursed through his veins was replaced by a sense of cold, impending dread. It was too late to back out now, though, and he resolved to sink into his seat with a tired groan.
By the time he was ushered out of the plane, Jou felt his heart race anxiously in his chest. The suited security detail of the plane - a large, burly man nearly a whole head taller than Jou - curtly told him that Mister Vice President will send your things to the resort. Jou was unnerved, but opted not to question him.
Instead, he towed a single carry-on suitcase behind him and made his way to the private black car - complete with tinted windows and silent, unmoving chauffeur - waiting patiently for him. The silence was beginning to make his skin crawl and Jou had attempted a lame attempt at small talk, but was only met with tense, one-word responses that left him feeling even more deflated than he already was.
The car-ride, while short, afforded Jou with enough time to ponder what would come next. The logical part of his brain concluded that whatever it is that Mokuba wanted from him, it would be a worthwhile investment. The Kaibas had no shortage of money, after all, and if the younger of the two had insisted on shipping the blonde all the way back to Japan on his personal black card, then… it must be good, right?
While he remained hopeful that his intuition was correct, the less rational (and frankly, more prevalent) part of his thoughts couldn't help but feel as if this entire thing was nothing more than an elaborate set-up.
Seto Kaiba and Jou had never had anything akin to a positive relationship. Years of the rich bastard belittling him had left the blonde with a bitter taste in his mouth - and even though neither of them had so much as batted an eye at each other since Jou's move to the States, the hollow pit of dull rage managed to worm its way into the pit of his stomach nonetheless.
Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea, he thought to himself with a tired groan. Working under Seto Kaiba's monstrous gaze sounded like torture of biblical capacity.
His thoughts had been snapped away instantly as soon as he pulled into the parking lot for the resort - a beautiful, glitzy building with glass walls and a marble dragon statue settled neatly at the entrance. That was more his style, Jou figured, and after being shown to his room, he let the tensions melt away in a long, hot shower.
Mokuba called soon enough and after another brief (and vague) conversation, Jou had transportation arranged for later that afternoon.
He had been dazed throughout the second car-ride to KaibaCorp's main office and by the time he had been lead to the top floor (who fucking needed fifty-something stories for an office building,) he was sure he would pass out soon enough.
A stern-looking woman with cropped black hair and red-rimmed glasses had nodded curtly as he hesitantly opened the door to the conference room from where she was seated. Arranged before her were two thick stacks of papers, a mug of half-finished coffee, and an assortment of pens. He was surprised to see that they were the only two occupants, but he didn't trust his voice enough to ask where Mokuba or - gulps - Kaiba were.
Instead, he slipped into a chair and awkwardly bowed his head over the table.
Jou couldn't tell if it was the jet-lag, anxiety, regret, or all three that had his stomach turning uncomfortably as he fidgeted in his seat - but as the seconds ticked by, the more he felt ready to fucking hurl.
"Mister Kaiba will be here shortly."
The woman's even tone cuts through his haze of confused, jumbled thoughts. He jolts automatically, head snapping up as he appraises her through wide amber eyes. "Er… which… one?" Probably the lamest and least tactful ways he could have asked, surely, but Jou hardly cares.
She does little to mask her mild annoyance. "The Vice President," she clarifies - but when she lifts her head, the dark-haired woman notes the owlish confusion on Jou's expression and heaves an irritated sigh. "Mokuba Kaiba," she tacks on.
"Oh-he's… the Vice President now? Shit." He hardly notices the way his vulgarity pulls an irritated sound from her, merely rubbing the back of his neck in thought. "Makes sense, I guess…" Jou mumbles, picking absently at a stray thread on his t-shirt. He begins to feel severely underdressed - but Mokuba had hardly given him enough time to wait for his luggage to arrive. The blonde had resorted to slipping into what he had in his carry-on - which, unfortunately, had only been a clean tee and a pair of simple jeans.
It's clear to him that this woman - whoever she is - was rather unimpressed by him. Jou can't help but wonder exactly who or what she had been expecting to show up today. Wouldn't be the first time he disappointed others before even doing anything. It didn't get under his skin nearly as much as it used to.
She presses her lips together into a thin line and inhales as if on the verge of saying something when the door whips open and a flurry of dark black hair tumbles into the conference room. "Sorry I'm late!"
Almost immediately, Jou feels his spirits lift. A wide grin splits across his face and he straightens in his seat. "Mokuba!" he greets, tone as chipper as always.
"Hey, Jou! It's been too long!" Mokuba finally straightens to give the other a bright smile.
Jou can't help but note that the younger Kaiba had really grown up in the last seven years. He was taller now (still shorter than Jou, though, and certainly still a meter less than his brother) and his messy black hair was cropped to his shoulders. He was less "kid" and more "established young adult," which almost shocks the blonde. He notes Mokuba's fitted suit and can't help but glance down sheepishly at his own clothes once again.
"Yeah, uh… haven't been in Domino for years, really," Jou amends with a short laugh.
Mokuba bobs his head in an understanding nod before taking the seat closest to the door. He takes a moment to wave politely to the woman who dips her head quietly in acknowledgment.
"Okay, so, I know you are probably super confused about why you're here," Mokuba finally sighs.
Jou only manages to nod his head. His brows furrow together as he watches the dark-haired young man curiously.
"So… I know I said this was about a job opportunity…"
"You better not be fucking with me about that, Mokuba," he warns teasingly much to the woman's chagrin. "I packed all my shit up to come to Japan again, so if you're lying about that job…"
Mokuba laughs in spite of himself, a wide grin lighting up his expression. "I wasn't lying," he promises earnestly. "But…" this time, his gaze glances over at the woman. "It's… also a little more than that."
Jou looks perplexed. "Okay…" he clears his throat. "What do you mean by that?"
This time, the woman clears her throat and straightens in her seat. "Mister Mokuba reached out to you regarding a full-time position with KaibaCorp as a personnel security detail. The position has handsome pay, and we're willing to not only match but surpass any of your previous salaries. On top of that, your position will come with housing and food. Your only expenses will be your recreational decisions."
It all sounds far too good to be true and Jou has the sensibility to narrow his eyes to give her a skeptical look.
"Miyuki-san is right," Mokuba supplies helpfully. The woman — Miyuki — raises her brows and fixes Jou with a curious look. "We've already budgeted it out, so everything will work out. I know you're tough and strong. And records show that you're employed as a security guard already."
" Was employed," Jou clarifies tensely.
"Right." Mokuba tacks on. "So you already have experience and are familiar with KaibaCorp, y'know? And you're a trusted individual. It's not like you're gonna plot mass murder against us or anything," he jokes with a laugh.
"Uh-huh." The blonde still can't help the look of distrust lingering in his expression. Slowly, Jou reclines in his seat and scratches his head. "So… what's the catch. There's no way you're offering me a silver platter job with no catch."
This time, Mokuba has the decency to look a little sheepish. He and Miyuki exchange tense looks, but as the dark haired young man turns to open his mouth, the door whips open once again.
"Let's get this over with."
The sound of a deep, baritone drawl dripping with self-assured arrogance is enough to make Jou's blood run cold. He turns slowly in his seat and the moment amber eyes meet cold blue, both men freeze instantly.
Standing at the doorway with a mug of coffee is none other than the literal bane of his existence.
Seto fucking Kaiba.
"No." Seto breaks the silence, the horror apparent in his eyes as lips twist into a scowl of disgust. He had only moved two steps into the room and it is already clear to Jou that that was all he needed to make his decision. "Absolutely fucking not. Who let a mongrel into the building?"
It amazes Jou just how quickly his temper can flare when the rich douchebag opened his mouth — even years later. "Wow, and I thought I was the immature one," he scoffs sharply, lips curling into a grimace. "Seven years later and something still managed to crawl up your ass and die up there, huh?"
A low growl is all he receives in response, but Seto opts to ignore him completely — which only forces Jou's anger to flare hotter.
"This is a joke, Mokuba. Kick the mangy mutt out of the building. Immediately ."
"Seto—"
"That's not a question." Seto's harsh snap is enough to make Mokuba flinch. Jou chances a sideways glance over at the CEO and nearly blanches.
The years hadn't been altogether unkind to him; he remained just as tall, just as imposing as he had been back during their school years — but time had shaved off what little roundness Seto's face previously held. He's all cutting edges, sharp and jagged lines. His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones leave him looking almost gaunt, but the smoldering burn behind cerulean hues dispel any notion that he may be in anything less than perfect health.
The sharpness of his face only makes the look of pure fury in his eyes that much more frightening — but Jou had never been a coward. Not then and certainly not now.
"Quit being a bully," Jou snaps before Mokuba can protest. "Besides, you can't say shit. I already accepted." His tone is smug — but his bluff earns three very strange stares. A look of shock from Miyuki, a pleased grin from Mokuba, and an expression of utmost horror from Seto, himself.
"Stop bullshitting." Seto's voice is little more than a low, cold growl as narrowed eyes snap a harsh glare in Jou's direction.
The blonde doesn't waver, merely shooting the brunette a pointed look in response. He's riding on a pulse of adrenaline now, pleased at the clear distress his very presence is causing Seto. It makes him feel almost smug and in spite of himself, his lips quirk into a faint smirk. "No bullshit, moneybags. I'm one-hundo percent legit."
"Jesus Christ." Seto's pained expression is enough to make Jou's chest swell with pride. The brunette fixes Mokuba with a hard look, as if waiting for confirmation - and for the first time since his brazen assertion, Jou feels his confidence wavers.
He, too, looks at the dark-haired boy with nervousness; if Mokuba called his bluff, then it was game over and Jou had no choice but to concede to Seto… again. Like he always did.
The younger Kaiba brother, however, proves to be far more shrewd than anyone expects. Jou isn't certain if he imagines the dangerous glint lighting up the depths of his dark hues, or if Mokuba's smirk is nothing more than a figment of his imagination, but when he clears his throat and bobs his head in an earnest nod, Jou can't help but sigh under his breath.
"He did. Miyuki-san was just about to hand the form over for him to sign. We shook on it, though." Mokuba raises a hand and places it carefully over his heart. "Scout's honor, a deal has been made."
Jou doesn't bother chancing Miyuki with a look; he can all but feel her irritation prickling off of her in thick waves. He half-expects her to protest and expose their lie, but instead, she merely shuffles the papers with perfectly-manicured fingers and slides a single form across the table. It swims into Jou's vision and with a flutter of his lashes, he squints to read the fine-print inked against the stark white sheet.
"Please sign on the indicated lines, Katsuya Jounouchi."
"Right," Jou offers, grabbing the nearest pen before quickly scrawling his name down.
When he finally looks up, tongue nestled between his teeth, he can't help but meet Seto's gaze out of morbid curiosity. The CEO looks ready to kill, jaw clenching and unclenching until the muscle in his cheek jumps visibly with each subtle movement.
His attitude hadn't changed one bit, Jou notes disdainfully; still as rigid, arrogant, and closed-off as usual. His expression, save for bloody murder gleaming in the depths of imperious cobalt hues, is neutral. Not a hair is out of place and for what it's worth, he's holding onto his cool remarkably.
It's enough to make his smug smirk widen a fraction further as Jou props his elbows up on the table. "There we go. So, when do I start?"
"Immediately." Miyuki's voice is calm and tranquil - a direct contrast with the low growl of protest rumbling from Seto's side of the room. "You will be routed to Seto Kaiba's residence once he has completed his office hours for the day. Mister Mokuba will brief you upon arrival of your nightly duties."
Her clinical tone paired with her words causes Jou's expression to immediately falter. "Wait-his residence?"
He sneaks one last glance over at Seto who has moved to now pinch the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut painfully tight.
Mokuba nods again. "Yeah, as Seto's security detail, you're gonna be around him basically twenty four-seven."
"I've had enough." Seto finally snaps, his voice colder than any glacier Jou had ever seen. He jerks upright robotically, sending his chair skittering a few centimeters in his haste. Palms slam harshly against the smooth surface of the table, the impact loud enough to cause Jou to jolt ever so slightly. Miyuki and Mokuba, however, hardly seemed phased. "If all three of you are done bullshitting around and wasting my time, I'm done with this. You, " Seto sneers, gaze snapping over to level Miyuki with what Jou perceived as a withering, borderline-lethal glare, "you're lucky I'm not firing you for going against orders."
"I was merely listening to what the Vice President asked of me," Miyuki reasons calmly, a single brow quirking as she tilts her head back to fix Seto with an equally cold look.
"Seto, don't take this out on her," Mokuba interjects, sounding mildly irked. His little brother's tired voice of reason is enough to snap the brunette's composure back into place.
He shifts, shoulders straightening and a hand running through chestnut locks to brush them back into place. "Hn." His low hum is quiet and even as he straightens the lapels of his (still obnoxious, Jou notes) trenchcoat. He ignores the way Mokuba looks pleased with himself for curbing his otherwise-uncontrollable sensation of rage. Instead, he gives his younger brother a pointed stare. "I'll have a word with you later."
Mokuba merely heaves a sigh, going limp in his chair as Seto stalks his way out of the conference room and lets the door slam shut behind him.
There's a long moment of painful, awkward silence and Jou fidgets in his seat again. His own hands, he realizes, had clenched into tight fists in his lap involuntarily.
"Well. He took that far better than I had expected."
Jou's head snaps up and he fixes Miyuki with a strange look, as if the woman had grown a second head when he wasn't paying attention. "That was better?" he says slowly.
Mokub runs a hand through his hair before humming. "Yeah, I'd say so. He didn't actually fire you," he muses, attention turning to Miyuki.
She gives a curt nod, leafing through the second stack of papers before her with a certain level of apathy. "Jounouchi," she starts.
The blonde blinks and stirs in his seat again. "Uh. Yeah?"
"Now that you've signed your agreement, it will take a few business days to process the remainder of your benefits," she explains before putting the papers down. "In the meantime, I suggest you get yourself acquainted with your new work schedule and habits."
"Right…" he trails off slowly before giving Mokuba a reproachful look. "So. Now what?"
Mokuba perks up in his seat. "I'll give you a quick tour of the building and when Seto's done with work in a few hours, we can all go home."
"Alright…" Jou agrees reluctantly. The reality is slowly beginning to sink in, burrowing into his bones and making a home in his skin.
Rubbing his face with a hand tiredly, Jou grumbles to himself. "Guess I really did just signed my life over to be a human shield for Seto fuckin' Kaiba, huh?"
Jou had hardly paid much attention to the tour as Mokuba lead him in laps through KaibaCorp headquarters; his thoughts were distant and far away, disrupted by images of a very angry, very arrogant CEO. The initial adrenaline rush of sticking Seto with a pointed fuck you had faded almost instantly after Miyuki went over the remaining formalities with him and now, all he was left with was a sense of impending doom looming darkly overhead.
"Alright, so, it's four now and Seto just called for a car, so I think it's best if… hey, Jou? Earth to Jou!"
"Oh! Uh," the blonde gives his head a brisk shake and quickly gives Mokuba a look of sheepish embarrassment. "Sorry, I wasn't… paying attention. You said it's time to go?"
Mokuba gives him a look that reeks of unimpressed exhaustion, but the younger Kaiba merely shakes his head and sighs. "Yeah… I have some stuff to do, but I'll meet you back at the house later, 'kay?"
Jou swallows the lump forming in his throat and gives a slow nod. "Uh, yeah. Sure. If your brother doesn't murder me before you get back," he jokes dryly.
He has the decency to laugh slightly, flashing Jou a light smirk. "He won't kill you. Promise. You know how to get to the elevator, right?"
"Yeah," he promises with a distracted nod. He hardly registers Mokuba's final goodbye before the dark-haired young man slips away to tend to whatever work he said he had to do. Instead, he inhales sharply and sets off in search of the nearest lift.
It takes a bit of trial and error for him to navigate through the sterile, winding corridors snaking through the innards of the building, but once he finally finds himself exiting through the metal sliding doors of the elevator to find the main entrance, he sighs in relief.
The sun's finally beginning to dip below the horizon, sending streaks of burnt orange and deep scarlet across the sky, a smattering of thin clouds the only thing obscuring the otherwise picturesque image. The heavy golden rays seep through the glass doors and once Jou pushes them open, a touch of warmth bathes his skin.
As soon as he steps outside, he inhales deeply. The October breeze tastes fresh on his tongue, allowing the knot of unease settled in the pit of his stomach to slowly unfurl.
Jou feels a familiar itch to fish out a pack of cigarettes in times like this; he had broken the habit only a few months earlier after so many attempts he had lost count, but every time the blonde found himself under copious amounts of stress, the urge nagged at him all over again.
He doesn't have much time to consider stopping at a nearby convenience store for a fresh pack, though.
Jou squints against the flash of bright orange glare as light bounced off the smooth metal of the car creeping to a slow, steady crawl before lurching to a halt at the curb before the entrance. Amber hues flick to rest on his own reflection, gazing almost dubiously back at him, in the unblemished window of the limousine. The sleek black car didn't need a flashy silver emblem for Jou to identify it, but he knew that the license plate surely held a gleaming KC insignia on it, nonetheless.
He stuffs his hands in his pockets, watching as the window of the backseat slowly rolls down to reveal a very irritated-looking Seto Kaiba. There's a tense moment of silence as Jou stares at him and Seto stares back, a silent showdown of one's stubbornness against the other.
Everything was always a competition between them, after all, and old habits die hard.
"Well, are you going to get in or not, mutt?" Seto's cutting voice slices through the uncomfortable silence like the crack of a whip, jarring Jou back into reality.
"What, no arsenal of shitty jokes about how I'll soil the backseat or some shit?" Jou jeers in return, unable to let go of the lingering urge to hurl back whatever insult Seto threw at him with equal ferocity.
The brunette lets out an irritated scoff. "I have half a mind to let you walk all the way to my home like the sad, pathetic mongrel you are." His tone is harsh and unrelenting as his eyes narrow into pointed chips of ice. "See how long it takes you to come back with your tail between your legs."
Fucking prick.
"Do you ever get tired of being a self-absorbed megalomaniac?" he seethes tiredly.
"Big words you're using there, mutt."
Jou's chest puffs up in spite of himself. It wasn't often that he got to string together sentences with words longer than two syllables. Sue him for feeling a bit of pride. "Damn straight."
Seto's expression takes on an annoyed edge at Jou's self-proclaimed pride. "Just get in." he says shortly.
Jou raises his brows, hesitating as his hand hovers over the handle.
" Now ."
" Tch . Pushy bastard," Jou growls under his breath before jerking the door open. He gingerly slides into the seat, careful to keep a sizable distance between himself and Seto, before closing the door.
Seto raps his knuckles lightly against the partition and the car engine purrs to life. As the vehicle pulls out of the parking lot, another tense silence blankets over them.
Jou stares down at his hands, fidgeting slightly as the leather of the upholstered seat squeals under his movements.
"Can you stay still? Or are you restless because you need to relieve yourself outside?"
His snide remark strikes a nerve and his thin patience wears down. "Jesus fucking Christ , Kaiba! I haven't seen your ass in years and this is all you have to say?" he snaps, the exasperation palpable in his voice. "For a second, I thought maybe you'd grow the fuck up a little and leave all that dog-shit behind."
Seto crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat to throw Jou a dirty glare. "Why should I stop? You're still a third rate loser with a fourth rate lifestyle. It's not like you've amounted to anything other than being Yugi's abandoned dog, now have you?"
Shit, that stung. He flinches and his lip curls with a low growl. "Watch it, moneybags."
He scoffs and flashes a smug smirk at the blonde. "Or what? You'll punch me and risk the job you just secured? Yeah, right."
Jou freezes, the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach only intensifying at the patronizing look of condescension painted over Seto's face. He clenches and unclenches his fist but resolves to say nothing more, merely mumbling a half-hearted shove it under his breath.
"That's what I thought," the brunette continues smoothly, sounding far too proud of himself for Jou's liking. "And while we're on the topic, let's establish some ground rules."
Jou doesn't bother looking up, fixating his angry glare out the window to watch the scenery pass them by.
"My personal quarters are strictly prohibited. As is my office. You don't speak to me directly unless I speak to you first. And under no circumstances will you snoop around. My home is not your hotel. You are merely sleeping in a corner until I can convince Mokuba to drop you off at the pound where you belong. Have I made myself clear?"
Jou hardly bites back the low growl threatening to escape him. " Crystal ," he concludes bitterly, shooting Seto a bitter look. "Like I fucking care about what you have in your house." He already realized that he made a mistake by flippantly signing the contract, but the least he could do was collect a handsome paycheck and use that to dip out and start a new life. One far, far away from his childhood nemesis turned employer.
The car pulls past a wide iron gate before coming to a slow halt before the entryway to the Kaiba Manor. Jou hardly notices, though, amber gaze molten with righteous anger as he holds Seto's glare unyieldingly.
It isn't until the chauffeur exits and opens Seto's door for him that the tension begins to melt. Jou kicks open his own door and keeps his back to the brunette, sucking on his teeth.
God give him the strength to keep from strangling his new boss on his first night there.