Seto Kaiba (
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kittensinboxes2024-12-05 10:48 am
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To Be Endlessly Cold Within [Rivalshipping, Vampire AU]
It had taken some time to get used to living a new life as a vampire. For someone who actively decried the supernatural, it wasn't easy to admit that he'd been overcome by some creature of the night in anything outside of a nightmare.
But he had ended up like this nearly half a year ago, waking up hospitalized with what looked like some kind of lesions at the joint of his neck and shoulder. From that point, it was only a matter of time before he shifted to his new reality. Trying to suppress it out of sheer force of will had only worked out so long, and deflecting his thirst onto a natural human cause had nearly ended in him attacking his brother. That was the last straw.
That was when Seto Kaiba gave in and took the first drink.
He had to, of course, curate his inner circle slightly--tell the ones most important to him what exactly his new life would entail. Mokuba...well, while he hadn't fully intuited it, had been concerned about his brother ever since the hospital stay. How could he not be? Seto had gradually lost color, energy, and most concerningly, weight since he'd been discharged. He barely ate and looked discomforted when he did, and drank liquids constantly. Honestly, figuring out Seto's needs had been jarring, but ultimately relieving.
Isono was the only other person who knew. He was the one responsible for acquiring blood for his boss, and he did so admirably. Kaiba never fed from the vein, no matter what. Even when his jaw ached around others, and his fangs itched in his skull, he'd instead bite down on something else. He kept a solid rubber ball in his desk for such occasions, and it didn't feel right, but at least with his bagged alternatives, he was doing alright.
Isono and Mokuba had floated the idea to him of perhaps feeding on small animals, and while the thought of it had made his fangs stretch past his lower lip and made his stomach twist as if he'd been starving for all his life...he declined. He didn't need it. There were other things to attend to.
And so he never really regained his weight despite a regular diet of blood.
But at least the company was running smoothly. Seto fought the urge to take a fully nocturnal sleep schedule, and instead positioned himself between worlds. He'd come into work around midnight, well before the sun rose, and leave once it had set. Work meetings were scheduled past dusk. Probably the most expensive alteration needed was to slowly have his office windows altered with UV blocking, the tinting of which could be controlled automatically with a single remote. He mostly kept the tinting at a lower level, so he could still enjoy the sun's brightness without harming himself.
His acclimations weren't perfect. Sometimes he ended up burning himself. Sometimes, the hunger was triggered by proximity to his employees...but for the most part, Kaiba had fallen into a holding pattern. Not yet fully healthy by vampire standards, but also not withering away.
Today, Kaiba was to be participating briefly in orientation for a very small handful of new hires. Isono would bring them up, to show them who they would be working for and have Kaiba offer a few words as he often did while he judged the merit of the hires individually. He always thought it unnecessary, but what he thought, and what was actually done? Those were two different things.
The first two hires went through their orientation interview without incident. Kaiba wasn't terribly impressed, but they'd do as entry to mid-level workers. Nothing really extraordinary to be brought to the the table.
He taps the logo on his lapel.
"Isono. Bring in the last candidate, and then prepare lunch," he ordered.
"Yes, Master Seto!"
The third candidate...they better be worth something.
But he had ended up like this nearly half a year ago, waking up hospitalized with what looked like some kind of lesions at the joint of his neck and shoulder. From that point, it was only a matter of time before he shifted to his new reality. Trying to suppress it out of sheer force of will had only worked out so long, and deflecting his thirst onto a natural human cause had nearly ended in him attacking his brother. That was the last straw.
That was when Seto Kaiba gave in and took the first drink.
He had to, of course, curate his inner circle slightly--tell the ones most important to him what exactly his new life would entail. Mokuba...well, while he hadn't fully intuited it, had been concerned about his brother ever since the hospital stay. How could he not be? Seto had gradually lost color, energy, and most concerningly, weight since he'd been discharged. He barely ate and looked discomforted when he did, and drank liquids constantly. Honestly, figuring out Seto's needs had been jarring, but ultimately relieving.
Isono was the only other person who knew. He was the one responsible for acquiring blood for his boss, and he did so admirably. Kaiba never fed from the vein, no matter what. Even when his jaw ached around others, and his fangs itched in his skull, he'd instead bite down on something else. He kept a solid rubber ball in his desk for such occasions, and it didn't feel right, but at least with his bagged alternatives, he was doing alright.
Isono and Mokuba had floated the idea to him of perhaps feeding on small animals, and while the thought of it had made his fangs stretch past his lower lip and made his stomach twist as if he'd been starving for all his life...he declined. He didn't need it. There were other things to attend to.
And so he never really regained his weight despite a regular diet of blood.
But at least the company was running smoothly. Seto fought the urge to take a fully nocturnal sleep schedule, and instead positioned himself between worlds. He'd come into work around midnight, well before the sun rose, and leave once it had set. Work meetings were scheduled past dusk. Probably the most expensive alteration needed was to slowly have his office windows altered with UV blocking, the tinting of which could be controlled automatically with a single remote. He mostly kept the tinting at a lower level, so he could still enjoy the sun's brightness without harming himself.
His acclimations weren't perfect. Sometimes he ended up burning himself. Sometimes, the hunger was triggered by proximity to his employees...but for the most part, Kaiba had fallen into a holding pattern. Not yet fully healthy by vampire standards, but also not withering away.
Today, Kaiba was to be participating briefly in orientation for a very small handful of new hires. Isono would bring them up, to show them who they would be working for and have Kaiba offer a few words as he often did while he judged the merit of the hires individually. He always thought it unnecessary, but what he thought, and what was actually done? Those were two different things.
The first two hires went through their orientation interview without incident. Kaiba wasn't terribly impressed, but they'd do as entry to mid-level workers. Nothing really extraordinary to be brought to the the table.
He taps the logo on his lapel.
"Isono. Bring in the last candidate, and then prepare lunch," he ordered.
"Yes, Master Seto!"
The third candidate...they better be worth something.
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Yuugi's done good work in his very short time with the company. Kaiba's not looking to lose him, and...anyway, he's not sure if he can go back to his normal life without the man in it. Not because he cared, but because of his blood.
The blood thrumming in his ears, begging to be tasted.
"Would you come to the office with me?" he asks coolly. "I need to go over something with you."
There's nothing on the docket about that. There's nothing at all backing up Kaiba's claim that he needs to see Yuugi. So...it's not work-related. But he better pretend it is.
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Yuugi downed the rest of his coffee in one long gulp. It was still warm, but the heat felt good against his dry throat, even as it made his chest squeeze slightly.
"I have no interest in leaving, if that's what you're worried about, " he said.
But the rest of what he said...
He had something to go over? Really?
"Oh! Uh. Sure! Lead the way."
What could he want to talk to him about...?
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"How is your work going?"
Not that he can't see, but Mokuba had told him before that asking was far more polite than the alternative.
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"Oh, it's going great! We planned out our next three sprints today; the CMA team wants me to handle prototyping the next few downloadable arenas this sprint, and I already have so many ideas for how we can kick things up a notch and give the players something both familiar and fresh."
CMA: Capsule Monsters Arena. It was Mokuba's baby, based on Capsule Monsters Chess but redesigned for the KC VR engine and compatible headsets.
Yuugi played it a lot before he was onboarded, and found it extremely addictive. He needed to play with Mokuba sometime...
He followed Kaiba to the elevator with a spring in his step and an easy smile.
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Kaiba taps the elevator button, rolling the information around in his mind. That was Mokuba's brainchild, of course Yuugi was helping him with it. Truth be told, it inspires the barest drop of warmth in Seto Kaiba's cold dead heart whenever his brother has something go right for him. He works hard for what he achieves, after all.
Kaiba just wants the best for him, that's all.
Once the elevator finally dings on their floor, he walks in quietly, tapping on the button for the top floor--his office--and then pressing his thumb on the biometric pad.
(yeah no one's allowed in his office without clearance, what of it?)
"You're pretty energetic for someone who can't have gotten that much sleep."
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Ah. Haha.
Oh.
Right.
Yuugi scratched his head, but he at least looked a little sheepish.
"...Coffee?"
He chuckled.
"Nah, I'm just used to it. I turned in projects on less sleep in college."
And hung over. But that was entirely his friends' fault and his inability to say no, even before major exams.
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It was so informal that his adoptive father decided to throw in cool things like collars and riding crops and cigar burns, but Kaiba doesn't talk about that because it's no one's business, he'd learned a great deal, and he'd settled his hatred by now. The past is in the past.
Hm. They still have a few floors to go. Kaiba sighs, unable to put this off any longer without it seeming awkward.
"I didn't call you to my office for anything work related," he says plainly. "I called you to my office because I need something from you. And I don't want you to make it weird."
...Why does he feel like just saying that has already made it weird?
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Yuugi didn't know Seto well, but he knew him well enough to where 'making it weird' was the last thing he ever wanted to do.
Still, he had to raise an eyebrow.
"Uh...okay? Sure."
What would Seto want him to come to his office for, anyway? Definitely not a game -- not during work hours -- and he wouldn't be so secretive about something like that.
Was he...?
"Are you...hungry?"
Testing the waters. Seeing if he, uh. Meant what he was suspecting he meant.
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"Correct."
That's it. Acknowledgement. What else does Yuugi want?
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What, did you expect Yuugi to 'be weird' about it, Kaiba?
So what if his heart was racing at the thought, or that his breath picked up slightly? Those were physical reactions that had nothing to do with his even voice and the way he carried himself.
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God he sounded so stiff about it. Even he wanted to cringe, but...he couldn't bring himself to act any other way. This was hard for him, to admit he needed something of such high value from someone else, with very little to offer in return, and it not being business related.
The elevator dings. They've reached their destination. Kaiba is the first out, striding with purpose over to his desk. He's not stressed, or nervous. He's not.
What he is though, is having a hard time dealing with Yuugi's proximity. He's been doing fairly well since being on Yuugi's work floor, but now that there wasn't anyone around but the two of them, he looks fidgety as he moves to his desk.
Things don't...quite look right. Everything's where it belongs, except Kaiba's suit jacket, which is draped halfway across his desk. Odd, since he has his trench hanging from a coat rack. He's not really the disorganized type.
There's...something on the sleeve of the jacket too. A smear of dark red across the cuff.
Kaiba doesn't seem to take notice, other than to eventually pick up the jacket and hang it on the rack as well.
"We'll do this differently," he finally says, quiet as a mouse, as if it's a secret. As if he hadn't already disabled the cameras.
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It isn't just that Kaiba is uncharacteristically stiff; it isn't just that the room seems a bit disorganized...
There was red on his jacket, by the cuff.
That didn't look right...
It was like he wiped something red off him with his sleeve, but Kaiba would never. He was too high strung, too fastidious for that.
Yuugi's eyes lingered on the coat rack a moment. What was that...?
"Uh... what did you have in mind?"
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Too expensive for that. He wouldn't dare.
"Pegasus noticed something about your wrist. He asked me if you'd been hurt doing something. I told him it wasn't my business if you got hurt during your off hours and...that's true.
But if he noticed it, then that's not a viable method. We'll have to go subtler."
At last, he turns to face Yuugi, hands clasped behind his back.
"Somewhere completely covered...or somewhere that's less noticeable."
He stalks back to his desk, takes a seat, and pensively threads his fingers together, elbows propped.
"Perhaps a fingertip. If it wouldn't cause circulatory problems, then...maybe it's workable."
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But...
How was that possible? His wrist barely even had a mark; only someone with the most eagle-like of eyes could even tell that he did something to it! He'd been flashing his wrist all day and nobody else had even batted an eye at him.
Yuugi looked at his hands, subtle scarring running along the back of several of his fingers leading to the tips. Even to this day, the affected fingertips didn't have the sensitivity that they once had. Forever dulled, because of--
"Here."
He held out one of his hands.
"Bite along one of the burn marks then. See my ring finger? Bite that. Any mark that would be left behind will blend in with the scars."
Scars that still hurt sometimes.
Scars that still enflamed and--
He shook it off.
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...Neither seem that important yet, but he won't forget this. It only...whenever Yuugi's near, Kaiba feels as if his insides are being wrung out, and whatever hunger he felt was sharpened along the whetstone, a sword ready to pierce both of them.
He reaches out, take's Yuugi's hand in his own and...they're so small. Yuugi's hands are small and frail and so easy to break.
(a flash memory hits, a blossoming of agony as he's thrown against a wall and he feels himself snap like a twig)
Kaiba shakes his head. Strange...and painful. But ultimately not what matters.
He glances at Yuugi's ring finger, but instead of biting, he presses the tip of his thumb nail
(claw)
against the first joint. The tip of Yuugi's finger...which gives way all too easily to the drag of that sharp point, opening a line that wept droplets of crimson immediately.
Kaiba felt his stomach twist, heard the noise it made. Impossible. It was impossible to be this starved again, but the pallor to his skin, beyond even his usual, and the way his eyes and cheeks looked slightly sunken? It's not as bad as when he was in Yuugi's room last night, but it's not too much better.
His fingers tremble as he searches for Yuugi's eyes, not to ask for permission--permission's given--but to ensure he was ready for what was to come.
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Why did...
Why did he look so tired? He had more color when he left last night! Those sunken, sallow eyes stared into his with an almost hypnotic gaze...
He swallowed.
What happened to him...?
Yuugi's eyes followed the slope of his cheekbones, the curve of his neck, the set of his mouth.
"Go ahead," He murmured. "I'll be okay."
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Will he, Kaiba wonders, as he brings the dripping digit to his lips and runs his tongue along it. The sound he makes doesn't feel like a sound he'd ever make in his life, but there it is, a soft groan as he gives in and finally brings Yuugi's finger into his mouth.
Then, he starts to suck, drawing the blood into his mouth, feeling it trickle down his throat like life itself, a rejuvenating taste that has him clamoring for more with each draw.
He could keep going. He could keep going, and going until he was flushed with color, and Yuugi had traded for his pale skin. It'd be so easy to draw all of Yuugi into him, and isn't that what he wants anyway? His mind is screaming to him that he'd never feel such hunger again, if he'd just drink all of Yuugi Mutou.
But he doesn't drink with such voracity, even if his fangs are aching to bore a deeper cavern that would gush like a punctured hose. He is not going to be controlled by his instincts, not even when holding himself back feels miserable.
He's taking only what he needs, through a subtle cut, even if it's torture, and it is...!!
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It was strange: he didn't know he craved this until Kaiba started suckling on his finger. It was a rush, a need, a boulder removed from his shoulders with each successive suck.
He closed his eyes.
He couldn't look at Kaiba's face, as it was contorted in something between satiety and torment. He couldn't look into his eyes, he couldn't!
His cheeks flushed, his mouth parted--
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Kaiba's fingers close around Yuugi's wrist, too tightly to feel all that good, but not enough to hurt him, and he sucks harder, his eyes squeezing shut. He feels like he's in a space between heaven and hell, where Yuugi's blood is pleasure, but the trickle is pain.
Temperance, when Kaiba doesn't want it.
But there's something else there, too. Something that leads him in for longer--he can feel Yuugi's heartbeat in his chest, somehow. He can feel the skips and beats and stutters, and it almost feels like being alive, doesn't it? Alive...something that Yuugi should be, forevermore.
It feels like an eternity when he finally pulls away from Yuugi's finger, releases his hand and throws himself back into his chair, panting. There's some life to his features now, but he's still hungry, as he knew he'd be. Yuugi had taken the edge off, but like this, well...how could Kaiba ever be fully satiated?
He reaches into one of his desk drawers, fumbling for a moment, before pulling out a blood bag he'd stored there before ever going to Yuugi's floor, Much like the day they'd first met, he doesn't tear it open as he usually does, and instead sinks his fangs into the plastic before greedily drinking the contents down like an alcoholic chasing their buzz.
When he's done, he sets the empty plastic bag down on his desk and wipes his mouth with the tip of a thumb to gather any errant smears...before taking his own thumb in past his lips and leaving nothing to waste.
Kaiba hates waste. He hates mess and he hates waste. If Yuugi drips on his desk, he'll be cross, so he reaches back into the desk, and pulls out...a small handkerchief? There's no doubt it was in there to serve this singular purpose--cleaning up blood--because it was the only thing in the room that was made to hold stains. He gently slides it across the desk, offering it to Yuugi.
No waste. No mess.
The jacket hanging in the corner of the room seems to mock them both. A glaring exception.
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He followed Kaiba's panting breaths as he fell back on his chair.
He followed his greedy drinking as he guzzled the bag of blood.
He followed...
The cleaning of his lips.
The quick procurement of the handkerchief.
Clean. Fastidious. Neat.
Everything was so neat. Organized. Controlled. He never left waste, but...
But...
That jacket.
There was blood on that jacket, but it was out of place.
"Hey, uh..."
He could barely find his voice.
"Did you spill on your other jacket?"
A question. A risk.
"There was a stain. On uh. The cuff. It looked reddish?"
Did Kaiba not notice...?
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Things had never been like this. He doesn't like it.
But worse is when Yuugi points something out, something that had no place in Seto Kaiba's life.
Did you spill on your other jacket?
That get him looking at Yuugi with a strange expression, his lips pulled into a rather severe frown.
"That's not possible. I didn't drink anything today, until now," he said sharply. "You must be mistaken."
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For a moment, Yuugi just stared.
He really didn't know. He didn't know, he didn't know!
No.
No, okay. This needed to be addressed now. If Kaiba didn't know.... then something else had to have happened!
Determination fluttered through his blood as his eyes lowered.
"Hold on a sec."
He wrapped his finger, tight before making a beeline to the coat rack. With no hesitation, he grabbed it, held it in his hands...
And trotted back.
Held it out in front of him, stained cuff facing forward, towards Kaiba.
"See? I saw it when I came in with you."
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Nothing. There wasn't anything there. Though...he rolls the sleeve back down, matching it to his jacket cuff. The material was a light blue, enough that if there was any bleed through it...it would be visible.
But there isn't. So whatever had gotten on his jacket wasn't enough to penetrate through it.
And it's not as if he'd taken his shirt off, right? Why would he do that?
"This doesn't make sense," he says, and there's something about the way he says it that feels off-balanced. Without an explanation...how can he reconcile this?
There's an uncomfortable twinge at his right shoulder, which he rubs out in annoyance. He knows why, of course. It's a complaint that's been there since he'd been bitten. Something, he assumes, that happened when he'd been attacked months ago.
Then...oddly, his anxiety melts away, and turns into a scowl.
"Dry cleaners...they did a poor job, and I must have never noticed."
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Did something happen with it? He'd seen Kaiba rub it a few times since he's known him, usually idly as he walks from place to place.
Same spot.
Same shoulder.
But the stranger thing was the way emotions flitted across his face, leading to a... conclusion that didn't seem right.
Kaiba? Not notice something?
Fastidious Kaiba? Persnickety Kaiba?
Weird. This was weird.
"Really? Is it normal for them to miss something like that?"
One moment, he looked as though the floor was about to cave in under him, and now he was calm, like a switch got flipped.
Something was going on.
But what?
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There's a surprising lack of lingering on the fact that he still isn't the kind of guy who would allow for his things to be sullied without even a mild pretreatment on his part. The smear doesn't look as if it had even been touched.
More importantly, Yuugi had fulfilled his purpose, and so Kaiba turns to look at him, completely divorced of the conversation they were having about the jacket.
"...Thank you for your continued discretion, by the way. And your assistance."
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