Disclaimer: All of 'em are borrowed. I promise to return them in working condition when I'm through playing.
Warnings: Language, slight plotlessness, broken cup. Implied Seto/Yami.

Heawoke slowly, wondering why his body felt so sore. A cramp in his neck forced measured movements. A heavy weight on his chest – no, not a weight. That was Yami.

Sunlight spilled through the open windows; maybe that had been what had woken him. Sunlight – oh shit! What time is it? He didn't quite push Yami off of him, but his sudden tension and movement certainly woke the other.

Violet eyes met his, and their owner pulled back, blinking rapidly and stifling a yawn behind his hand. "G'morning," Yami slurred.

Seto grunted and levered the awakened duelist off himself, long enough to stand and redeposit him on the couch. "What time is it?" He'd left his watch upstairs, but Yami always slept with one.

"Three after eight," his lover answered, stretching.

Seto managed to relax a little. His first appointment wasn't until eleven – he still had enough time to raid the kitchen for caffeine and even see his brother before leaving… No, I can't, he realized. I still have to finish the Dioscin. Dammit, I should have finished it last night!

"Seto, calm down. You still have two and half hours at least."

He growled a reply. No use explaining that he needed to finish this, even though the deadline wasn't for another two months. Yami didn't say anything when he stalked out of the living room into the kitchen, tearing it apart in his caffeine quest. After waiting five minutes for an acceptable coffee to brew, he couldn't stand it anymore and simply poured the weak (in his opinion) liquid into a cup, downing it all at once. That took the edge off his addiction, at least, making it possible to wait for the rest of the coffee to properly filter for an acceptable-tasting morning drink.

Yami came in, fully dressed about the time he finished pouring his second cup. Neither said anything, though Yami looked like he dearly wanted to. Seto ignored him in favor of dumping the rest of the acid-brew into a thermos and stalking back upstairs to attack what was left of the project.

This had better not take too long…

Twenty incompetent idiots working together on this seem to manage to move it backwards somehow. At least I know I'm competent. And I know I won't screw things up. Dammit, where is the heading for this? I wonder if Yami's making dinner again. Where did those files go? Mislabeled again, I bet. Lasagna would be nice. Shit, these people are stupid.

He growled at the laptop screen when it decided to take a little longer than usual to end one of his programs. A tap on the door – very faint because of the soundproofing – drew him out of his own world, where employees were the fodder for the fires of hell.

"What?" Seto barked irritably, jerking the door open. "Oh."

Yami was standing outside, hand upraised and ready to attack the door with another vicious knock. "It's nearly ten. Are you finished? I know you've got somewhere to be soon."

Seto let the snarl fade off his face. "Nearly."

"You said that last night."

"Almost finished."

"How is that different from 'nearly'?"

"It isn't."

Yami threw his hands up in the air and walked off, muttering something unintelligible. Seto thought he could guess what it was about; CEOs that were too brilliant for their own – and these were Yami's word's, not his – damn good.

Seto had time for a brief, mirthless chuckle before returning to his laptop, shutting it off and returning the damned piece of technology to his briefcase. He checked his watch. There wasn't much time if he wanted to make himself presentable and arrive at his office early enough to make an impression. Sighing, at the thought of all the work time he'd lost by accidentally oversleeping, the young CEO dragged himself to the bathroom, showered and set about selecting the perfect outfit for his business meeting.

A pair of black dress pants went well with the black leather shoes he'd had delivered a few weeks ago, and the plain, off-white, cream-tone button-up shirt complimentedthe pantsnicely as well. The silver and black tie Yami had given him as a New Year's present found itself neatly arranged and tied about his neck. Unruly chocolate hair quickly discovered the law of the brush. Within moments, he looked as collected as ever.

No trench coat – business matters were too important for personal comfort. Instead, he snagged the matching top half suit jacket to go with the black slacks.

He frowned at the mirror. It looked sleek. Elegant, even. Time to go.

With his briefcase in one hand, Seto abandoned the room, dragging the door shut behind him.

Yami was in the kitchen staring morosely at the counter, all the fire seeming to have abandoned him. Seto would have worried if he hadn't known how pensive his lover could become at times.

"I'm leaving."

The violet eyes came to meet his. Yami didn't say anything, but Seto put down the briefcase long enough to give a quick hug and a light peck on the lips. Yami smiled a bit, and a hint of the aggressive energy his dueling was known for appeared in the flickering motion of his lips. Then Seto vanished out the door, taking his briefcase and that air of absolute certainty with him.

It was early for him, but for normal people, returning home at eleven-thirty could hardly be considered 'early'. Not eleven-thirty at night, anyway.

Yami was waiting up for him, wrapped in the same robe he'd worn earlier that morning. Wordlessly, the violet-eyed duelist offered Seto a cup of something. Just as silently, he accepted it. It turned out to be some sort of blended tea – raspberry with a touch of lemon, perhaps. Gratefully, he drank it, relishing the heat even as it burned its way down his throat.

The silence stretched until it became faintly uncomfortable. When Seto would have just brushed by Yami and trudged upstairs, the ex-spirit's hands came to capture his wrists.

At least the cup was empty, he thought, distracted when the cup he'd been holding rolled out of limp fingers to shatter on the floor.

Yami didn't say anything, but for some reason, his sheer silence burned more than any accusation he could have made. And how could Seto have replied, anyway?

The two of them dropped together, hands still entangled while they sought to clear up the ruined shards of porcelain.

A red flower blossomed from Yami's palm where a shard had caught – dug in too deep. With gentle care, Seto dragged it out, only a moment later getting a piece of the same lodged in his own.

Yami's gentle hand lifted his, a slight smile playing over his face when he drew the sliver out of the pad of Seto's thumb.

The hopelessness of the shards smeared across the kitchen floor began to sink in and Seto leaned into Yami, letting the other's strength become his own for a short while.

Just for the moment, because that was enough. Then he was on his feet again, carefully stepping over the shards littered across the floor. Somehow.

A shake of his head dissuaded Yami from cleaning them up. Leave it, his look said. It isn't worth it.

Author's Note: This was a difficult chapter to write. It doesn't seem to really go anywhere, and I know that. Sorry, I guess. Next chapter should move things along a bit. Really, this was only supposed to be an insight to Yami and Seto's characters as they're portrayed in this story. Nothing more. Thanks to beta Lighting Sage for cleaning up the drawing pad of my writing.

--I've always seen Yami as being Seto's true source of strength once they're together. I have no hand for throwing them together, but once they are tangled, it's like alloyed metal - together they're stronger. Of course, Seto being the stubborn man he is, probably wouldn't accept the help that entwined nature offers too frequently. This was just a way to pull out some of Seto's more vunerable side. Relatively pleased with how it turned out.
--The adoption is coming up eventually, but as Seto told Mokuba a couple chapters ago, there must be patience. It's not until July 13th. But that's what time warps are for, right?