Kaiba has to catch himself as he finally finds a chair, to stop himself from saying Of course you like Kuriboh. You just described yourself.
Not that Kaiba found Yuugi cute, but he certainly was soft, fluffy, and unassuming. And that blood of his...yeah. He'd certainly saved the man some grief.
As Yuugi mentions his grandfather again, Kaiba can feel his shoulder tense. It isn't because of the subject itself, but because he's being thanked for...for what? Not saying much of anything, except for about the games?
"I think," he says before he can measure out a proper response, "I would like that."
Ugh, what? No! He sets the chair down in front of him and closes his eyes with a frown. There's no way...not a single chance he can concentrate on the game like this. Embarrassingly, Yuugi's gratitude, his promise of showing Kaiba some rare games, and the ego stroke of knowing two different generations had enjoyed his skill?
It's a little too effective. He can feel his half-hard cock twitch in his pants. Oh? Games? Compliments? Neat.
So much for not thinking with the wrong head. This isn't even a sexual thing at this point, he hates when this happens, and then compliments end up making it worse.
"Where is your bathroom?" he asks sharply, looking as irate as he sounded. If he's gonna properly bluff, this thing has got to go.
no subject
Not that Kaiba found Yuugi cute, but he certainly was soft, fluffy, and unassuming. And that blood of his...yeah. He'd certainly saved the man some grief.
As Yuugi mentions his grandfather again, Kaiba can feel his shoulder tense. It isn't because of the subject itself, but because he's being thanked for...for what? Not saying much of anything, except for about the games?
"I think," he says before he can measure out a proper response, "I would like that."
Ugh, what? No! He sets the chair down in front of him and closes his eyes with a frown. There's no way...not a single chance he can concentrate on the game like this. Embarrassingly, Yuugi's gratitude, his promise of showing Kaiba some rare games, and the ego stroke of knowing two different generations had enjoyed his skill?
It's a little too effective. He can feel his half-hard cock twitch in his pants. Oh? Games? Compliments? Neat.
So much for not thinking with the wrong head. This isn't even a sexual thing at this point, he hates when this happens, and then compliments end up making it worse.
"Where is your bathroom?" he asks sharply, looking as irate as he sounded. If he's gonna properly bluff, this thing has got to go.