Work Text:
The arrangement is only a few weeks old, and much younger in terms of time actually spent together. There had been the first slightly awkward scene (Yugi in a collar and cuffs blowing Seto-san according to the Dom’s direction), and then a smoother follow up (temperature play was a firm “green” for both of them), but that had been over two weeks ago. Yugi had known since their original negotiation of limits and boundaries (as dry and boring as a business meeting, but he couldn’t fault Seto-san for being thorough) that he would have to initiate most of their encounters. It still rankled that they’d barely exchanged a couple of emails since the last session.
So Yugi was feeling a bit, well, bratty, when he dialed Kaiba’s personal number Sunday evening after locking up the shop, and got sent directly to voice mail twice.
Kaiba picked up half-way through the third try with a snarl, “What.”
“Good evening to you too, Honey Bunches,” Yugi answered, gratified by the way the raspy noise of teeth grinding carried over the connection. “I’m horny.”
There was a long pause, dead silent, not even breathing coming across the line.
“Kaiba?”
“Give me a moment.” This time there was the scratchy shuffling noise of a cell phone being pressed against a shirt or jacket and a sense of movement. Apparently Kaiba was going to take the call somewhere else, and Yugi wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad sign. There was a distant click from an expensive door shutting and the static fabric noises cleared up.
“Alright,” Kaiba said. “You’re horny and you’re calling me.”
“Don’t act like this isn’t your problem, Kaiba,” he said, “You promised.”
Kaiba hissed on the other end and then grunted something vaguely affirmative, “You want attention now?”
“Well, tonight, yeah,” Yugi sighed. Winding Kaiba up was fun, but not what he wanted, or at least not winding him up that way. “I haven’t heard from you in two weeks, so this is what we in the scene call a ‘booty call’. It means I call someone, the ‘booty’, and then they-”
“I know what a booty call is,” Kaiba made a noise between a snarl and a sigh. “Does it have to be tonight? Can’t you just download some porn or something?”
“No!” Yugi snapped, sitting upright in his bed and glaring daggers at the far wall in lieu of the man he’d actually like to poke some holes in. “Kaiba, you made me a promise. I’m not a pet you can just call a sitter and be done with! If you meant what you said, then be here, and if not fuck off and I’ll figure this out on my own.”
There was half a second where he wondered if he’d gone too far, and let his frustration speak when he should have been more understanding. But then, Kaiba sighed on the other end of the line, “You’re right. I gave you my word. But I can’t meet at your place and I can’t do anything elaborate. I’ll send a car for you, can you be ready to leave in fifteen minutes?”
“Where are you taking me?”
“The Manor. I’m here all ready. Use the ride to think about what you want.”
“I want to get on my knees and have someone give me orders until I get off,” Yugi protested, but he was throwing a pair of flannel pants and a comfortable t-shirt into an overnight bag, along with a spare toothbrush. He considered bringing some toys, but Kaiba hadn’t said anything about them, and he was already frustrated with how much of an effort this evening was turning into. Rich asshole could get a dildo by currier if he wanted to use one.
“Give you orders, get you off,” Kaiba repeated. “Not sure what you need me to be there for. This meeting could be a phone call, Yugi.”
Yugi stopped trying to wrestle the drawstring of his bag closed and instead stuck his face into a pillow and screamed for a minute. When he thought he could be sensible again he put the phone back to his ear, “Phone sex is Not. The. Same. Thing.”
“Did you just scream into a pillow?”
“I am really starting to wonder why I agreed to this. At this rate it would be easier to just go pick up someone on a street corner,” Yugi muttered. He glanced down at his jeans where the tight denim was showing an attractively interested bulge. “Fuck, I’m horny.”
“So I’ve heard,” Kaiba said, the words chased by a gentle chuckle. “Alright, the car is on its way. I can’t promise how… involved I can be tonight, but I can give you orders and get you off somewhere safe.”
“Thank you,” Yugi sniffed, trying for entitled disdain, “That’s all I ask.”
****
Yugi had not actually been to the Manor since the first year of high school, and for a moment as the car turned up the drive he wondered if meeting here was a good idea. Not all of the memories were good. Most of them, in fact, were actually terrible. But he realized as soon as they pulled into the puddle of light around the front door that it wouldn’t be an issue: the Manor was barely recognizable as its former self.
The heavy wood doors were now giant, sleek black glass. The columns around the entry way were stylized Blue Eyes White Dragons - angular in their carvings, with blue glowing lights in each of their eyes. The extremely Western landscaping seemed to have been replaced with stone gardens and hyper-modern statues, and the brick façade had been plastered over entirely. From the outside, it looked like a completely different structure.
Yugi watched a panel of glass as wide as the Game Shops’ front door, and two stories tall, slide silently upwards. It revealed not the dark wood and pale marble mosaic he remembered, but poured cement with built-in stone benches, all a pale blue color, with a series of stark white lockers for guests to store shoes and coats. More industrial than homey, but Yugi felt mostly amused as he exchanged his boots for a pair of comfortable house slippers, his size, already waiting in the one open locker.
Kaiba himself was waiting at the end of the entry area in his own white house slippers that made a ridiculous contrast with his sharply pressed slacks and dark purple dress shirt. The cuffs were rolled up half way with sharp, precise folds, and despite it being nearly 9 PM, he looked freshly styled. He had a large black watch on one wrist, and Yugi found himself staring at it, unable to look away from the contrast against his slender hand and strong forearm.
“Wasn’t expecting a personal greeting,” Yugi said, trying to break the strange tension he felt building between them.
“I’m hardly going to ask the staff to stay up just to escort my ‘booty call’ to my office.”
“Your office?” Yugi asked as they began walking down the long hallway on the right.
“I have a meeting with Brussels in ten minutes,” he said, stepping up to another glass door that slid open automatically and gesturing Yugi to go in ahead of him. Despite the milky color of the glass, Yugi was relieved to notice it was totally opaque: whatever happened in here would be completely private.
Unlike the rest of the Manor that had been re-envisioned as somewhere sleek, fast, and new, the office had retained the heavy wooden built ins, and large wooden desk Yugi had imagined. There was a professional looking video camera facing the desk, sitting just in front of a large projection screen that was currently blank.
“Um, I don’t remember agreeing to being filmed,” Yugi said, skirting to the side of the room.
“Unless you’re stupid, you won’t be,” Seto replied. “Come over here behind the desk.”
Yugi eyed the monstrosity as he made his careful way around to the far side of the room. The desk was nearly five feet deep, higher than usual, and wide enough even Kaiba couldn’t have reached both edges at the same time if he spread his arms out. But the kneehole (and wasn’t that a great word for the space under a desk where the legs fit), was narrow, while the draw spaces on either side were double-wide. Yugi looked at it critically, deciding he could probably fit under it without too much turning into a pretzel, but only if Kaiba wasn’t trying to put the telephone poles he called legs in there too. On the other hand, at least the modesty panel did go all the way to the floor -
“Watch it,” Kaiba’s voice startled him, and Yugi stumbled slightly, though the taller man caught him by one arm easily. “Look where you’re putting your feet.”
“Wait, what?” Confused, Yugi turned his attention from the black space between the building-plan sized sets of drawers on either side of the desk. Following Kaiba’s gaze he looked at the floor, and at the large green pillow laying there. The pillow was a deep color, made of an almost shimmering fabric, with gold tassels at the corners and fringe along the edges. It was plush, probably a foot deep or more at the center, and large; large enough for Yugi to lay down fully and take a nap. When he crouched down next to it he discovered it was covered in something like silk - cool and smooth and almost slippery under his fingers.
“Here’s what I have planned,” Seto-san said. And he was definitely Seto-san now, his Dom, and not Kaiba his friend. Seto-san firmly but gently took Yugi’s bag and came to stand next to the desk chair, just on the other side of the pillow.
“You are going to strip down to cuff and collar, and lay down on this pillow. You will have until the end of my call to get yourself off, and you will be silent while doing so. Is that amenable?”
“Wait, so you don’t want me to blow you during your phone call?”
“No,” Seto-san rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t joking about needing to get some work done. As long as you stay below the edge of the desk, and outside the area marked by the white lines,” here he gestured to some fine white inlay that ran in two stripes across the top of the desk and was echoed in the carpet and further inlay in the built-in behind them, “you’ll be out of the range of the camera. I’ll be using my bluetooth for this, and I will be muted most of the time, so whether anyone else knows you’re here is entirely up to you.”
“If you’re muted, why do I have to be quiet?” Yugi whined. There was no other word for it. The frustration of the last few days, of Kaiba’s reluctance, of being brought over and then told to just sit at Kaiba’s feet and jerk off like a nuisance, an after thought. It was beyond frustrating, it was humiliating. It was-
Seto-san gripped Yugi’s chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted his head back until Yugi was sitting on his heels and looking up at the tall man. Seto-san was barely bent at the waist, just enough to reach Yugi with his finger tips. He waited until he had Yugi’s full attention, “Because while I shouldn’t have to say much, I do need to hear the information in this report. Now,” his voice was firm, “can you do this? Is it amenable?”
Yugi looked up and up the full length of Seto-san’s legs and torso, and he was pinned in place. “Y-yes…”
“Then get stripped, put your clothes in the bottom drawer, and get comfortable. The call starts in three minutes.”
“A-ah, right,” he mumbled, feeling slightly fuzzy as the frustration became slippery and difficult to hold on to. All of the emotions from earlier started to drain away, leaving just Yugi, on his knees, and Seto-san watching him.
Seto-san’s fingers slipped from his chin, tapping him lightly on the nose once, and then leaving Yugi to his orders. Almost on automatic, Yugi moved quickly to strip off his shirt and jeans. He hadn’t bothered with underwear that day, and he felt relieved as his hands fumbled to fold the clothes and set them in the empty drawer. Then his socks and house slippers followed and he was left in one chunky cuff on his left wrist, his ubiquitous collar, and his eyeliner.
And the whole time Seto-san just stood there, fully clothed, arms crossed, watching. Once the drawer was pushed shut he gave a nod and sat down at his desk. He toggled something on the desktop and the lighting changed - suddenly Yugi was sitting in a pool of darkness, along with most of the room, while Seto-san sat comfortably under flattering spotlights. Everything in the room that wasn’t Seto-san, everything including Yugi, seemed to suddenly vanish.
He felt insignificant, small, looking up at some more worthy, more powerful being that was all that really existed in the world. He was in his Dom’s presence, and he was just sitting there, kneeling there, on the cushion not doing anything at all. Should he be doing something? Should he not? Did Seto-san care what he did? Did it matter, when he was so small and Seto-san was so-
His thought stalled at the sound of a soft chime, the world’s most polite ring tone. Seto-san’s hand hovered over something on the table for a second, but he turned and graced Yugi with a small smile before he connected his call. “Oh, one last thing. You wanted orders?”
Yugi noded, not trusting his voice to answer.
“No hands. You can only use the pillow to make yourself cum.”
“Nnnnng!”
Suddenly there is no future, no past, just an immediate now, and Seto-san is sitting right at the center of it. Yugi shudders as he hunches over, fisting the edges of the pillow and trying not to make a sound as he hears Seto-san connect the call and quickly greet the people on the other end.
He can’t hear them through the headset, but Seto-san’s voice rumbles and caresses the hard consonants. “Ich schalte mein Mikrofon stumm jetzt. Ist das gut?”
“Danke,” and Seto-san taps something at his far temple. He folds his hands in front of his face and leans forward, with his mouth blocked from the camera he says, “I’m muted now Yugi, but remember: I need to hear everything they’re saying clearly, so you must be quiet.”
A groan catches in Yugi’s throat and nearly chokes him.
“And that’s not all Yugi,” comes the voice above him. “This won’t be a very long call, so I’d hurry up if you’re planning to get off before it ends.”
The sudden sense of urgency flips a switch, sending him into motion. throws himself down full body on the pillow, shuddering at the cool slide of the silk on his chest and stomach. The tops of his thighs are shockingly sensitive like this, and the cool silk feels like ice. He freezes for a second, trapped between the urgent need to start moving and the sudden overwhelming texture, but the silk warms quickly and he begins to shift. He can feel every hair on his legs and stomach drag and slide along the cover.
All of this is to say nothing of his cock: he’d been half-chubbed all afternoon, but now he’s frantically moving to fully hard. The cool of the silk is almost painful on his hot shaft and balls, but it’s also so gratifying and smooth, and like the rest of the pillow it warms quickly.
The whole experience is a baffling contrast: the luxurious sensuality of the pillow, the intimate comfort of the darkness, and the utter humiliation of rutting at Seto-san’s feet like a dog. He can’t help himself, and his whole body shakes with a low groan.
The sound shocks him into stillness, suddenly hanging on the edge of something that might be panic, or might be… something else entirely. Irrationally, his muddled brain is convinced he’s been heard by the people on the other end of the phone.
Yugi’s eyes were drawn up, up, up to the distant figure of Seto-san’s face. From where he is, practically laying on his stomach on the floor, Seto-san dominates his field of view and his attention. The room is so dark except for that pool of light around the desk, does it even exist? Does Yugi? And what about the other people on the call? Do they know? They must know: he had one rule, and he couldn’t even stick to that. He was too horny, too needy, and Seto-san was so cool, unaffected, and he had shamed his Dom-
Seto-san didn’t look away from the call. His expression didn’t even flicker, but one hand drops down and taps Yugi on the nose in the gentlest of reprimands, before it goes back to steepling on the desk, and Yugi was gone.
For a moment it feels like he’s falling through the floor. Seto-san is larger than ever, he’s everything. And- and- one long leg slides from under the desk. He left the house slipper behind, so it’s just the thinnest, softest black sock that pets along Yugi’s ribs to his hip. He’s shuddering, deafened by the pounding of his own pulse in his ears, and utterly frozen on the cushion. The foot moves up until it rests over the swell of his ass and he’s…
Subjugated. Conquered. Helpless. Owned.
The foot gently bounces against Yugi’s ass, pushing his hips into the cushion and then releasing. It repeats two or three times until Yugi’s hips catch on and suddenly he’s rutting desperately. He hasn’t ruined anything, Seto-san still wants him to hump and rut and get off. He’s just a vessel of need and Seto-san is so kind, so good to help him because he’s too horny to help himself.
The rhythm of his panting is undercut by some precisely cut syllables that mean nothing to Yugi. Then the light in the room shifts gently, warming his safe shadows and exposing him to his Owner.
Yugi writhes and whimpers into the pillow, so close… He looks up, pleading with Seto-san. For his part Seto-san leaves his chair and crouches down over the prone sub. Two fingers tuck into the front of Yugi’s collar and raise him up until his back is bowed, and his arms are nearly straight pushing his chest up from the floor and his hips down into the cushion.
“You didn’t get off before the call ended,” Seto-san says. His voice is soft.
Yugi can’t speak, has never been able to speak, he just wiggles and shifts, whimpers and feels his eyes filling with tears. Did he- is he-
Seto-san’s eyes are intense and they fill his whole world. And, in this space where just the two of them exist, Yugi can read them clearly, and they’re - warm. So warm, crinkled just a bit at the corners, smiling almost.
“But you’re such a needy thing, aren’t you?” His voice is soft, as warm as his eyes, fuzzy, safe. “You just can’t help it. It built up for too long, and you don’t have any self control now, do you?”
He opens his mouth, but there still aren’t any words, just panting breaths and soft noises, and he squirms trying not to thrust his hips but he needs to. He needs so much, it’s all he his. He can’t function like this, he needs, and he needs Seto-san to help him.
“Go on then,” Seto-san says, and now the amusement and affection is obvious. It’s all over his face, his voice, and in the hand that gently pets the back of Yugi’s hair, “finish up. There’s a good boy.”
His hips are almost bouncing, diving into the pillow that is now slick, and warm, and wet. And Seto-san is watching him, pleased with him, staring at him like he’s the center of the world and doing exactly what he’s supposed to be doing. Soft praises fall over him, and he swears he can feel the words spark against the naked skin of his back and his arms.
“Come on, Yugi, you can do it,” He says. “Come for me.”
And he does. Shuddering, wet, messy, and suddenly exhausted. His bones seem to pour out of him with his cum, and he collapses into Seto-san’s arms and onto the pillow.
And for a long time, there isn’t anything but the hazy feeling of being exactly where he needs to be, doing exactly what he needs to do, and feeling safe and… cherished. He’s cherished.
****
Later, Yugi came back to himself settled on plush couch upholstered in black leather, and wrapped in a blanket softer than anything he had ever touched in his life, including the chinchillas that were the class pets in second grade. He felt wrung out and exhausted, but the frustration and pent up energy of the last few days was gone. After some internal debate, he decided that it was a good feeling.
Seto-san was sitting on the other end of the couch, with Yugi’s feet tucked up against his near leg, reading something on a palm computer. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and he wasn’t wearing a belt anymore. Seto-san even had one leg crossed over the other, ankle resting on the opposite knee, and his white house slipper hanging lazily off one elegant, shockingly bare foot.
Yugi was struck by the intimacy of the image, and how strange that this felt more undressed than the skin-tight high-tech polymer turtlenecks that Seto-san often wore under his trench coats. He soon caught himself blushing as he stared at that single boney ankle and wondered where his dignity had gone. … Probably he had left it on that pillow in Kaiba’s office, along with… everything else.
“Oh man…”
Seto-san looked up, and set the palmtop on a side table. He turned slightly to give Yugi his full attention, “Are you back with me this time?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he said. “Where, uh- where did I go?”
“Subspace,” Seto-san answered, like it was obvious. Like subspace was a real thing and not some fantasy to make your sex life sound more special than it really was.
“Yeah, right, subspace,” Yugi answered.
“I’d like you to drink some water and eat something,” Seto-san said, his voice soft but business like. “It should cushion the endorphin crash.”
“Heh, cushion,” Yugi snickered, and then he was giggling. He wasn’t a giggler by nature, no one took you seriously if you were short and you giggled, but the amusement just kept bubbling up and falling out of his mouth like champagne bubbles.
Seto-san watched him for a minute, and then gently stroked the hair back from his face, “Come on, eat your orange slices.”
Yugi managed to get the giggles under control enough to sit upright. He was still naked in his blanket burrito, he realized, but that didn’t bother him except that he kind of wanted to just roll around on the floor to feel the softness all over his body. Maybe Seto-san could make him do that next time. And then he saw the neatly arranged tray on the coffee table, with a plate of neatly arranged orange and apple slices, crackers, a pot of tea with two cups, a fancy glass bottle of water, and - “Wait, is that really a juice box?!”
Seto-san raised one eyebrow, and then delicately inserted the straw into the small Tetra Brik and handed it to Yugi without saying a word.
It was fruit punch - sharp, bright, and sweet on his tongue. He almost giggled again, grinning at Seto-san over his straw.
“How are you feeling? What else do you need?”
“What do I need? Seto-san, that scene was perfect. What about what you need? You didn’t even take your pants off!”
Seto-san shook his head, and firmly set a cracker in Yugi’s free hand, “I’m- fine.”
“You hesitated.”
“I said I’m fine. Eat your cracker.”
“Seto-san,” Yugi frowned.
“Kaiba,” Kaiba snapped, “The scene is over, just Kaiba.”
Yugi sat up fully and nibbled the smallest amount of cracker possible as doubts began to gnaw him up from the inside, “Kaiba, what did I do wrong? Was I too, too much? Not enough?”
“No!” Kaiba seemed shocked by the tenor of his own voice, “No.” He stroked Yugi’s hair until he had the entire blanket burrito and its contents leaning up against his side, “No, Yugi. You were wonderful, perfect even. But I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t mix work with this, not ever. That was irresponsible of me.”
“Did… did something happen? Did someone-”
“No, no one noticed anything,” Kaiba said, alternating his petting with soft encouragements to Yugi to keep snacking. “But it messed my head up. It was too-”
“Too?”
“It was… too much taking advantage of my station.”
“I could have said no at any time,” Yugi frowned.
Kaiba gave him a long disbelieving look, and then shook his head. “This isn’t the right time to talk about it. Right now, you’re supposed to be enjoying your aftercare.”
“Kaiba, it’s important to talk about what happened in a scene afterwords,” Yugi pulled away so he could sit under his own power and meet Kaiba’s eyes. “You were the one who insisted we debrief after scenes, every time.”
Yugi expected Kaiba to push back, or deny it. But instead, Kaiba scrubbed a hand down his face, and then pushed it back through his hair mussing the perfect styling.
“Alright,” he said, and his voice was more rocks than whiskey, “we’ll discuss it. But not right now, not until you’re balanced out from the scene, alright? This is supposed to be good for you, not bring you down.”
Yugi looked him over carefully, and maybe Kaiba was on to something about subspace, since that the strange feeling of the scene hadn’t totally faded. He still felt hyper aware of every micro-expression and gesture the other man made. Kaiba didn’t want to discuss this, but he would, if Yugi gave him time. And, Yugi decided, he could do that.
He re-settled against Kaiba’s side and finished his cracker, suddenly ravenous, “I want some oranges.”
“They’re right there,” Kaiba said, gesturing with his free hand.
“My arms are short, gimme.”
And that small, amused, maybe even affectionate smile was back. “Bossy, bossy,” Kaiba said, but he also brought the plate over to sit in his lap and started hand-feeding Yugi the sweet fruit. They stayed like that, quiet, with Kaiba passing Yugi snacks and water, for a long while.
“Was I really in subspace?” Yugi asked eventually.
“Yes.”
“How long… does it take to come back to normal?”
“That depends on the person, the scene, and the day. Why?”
Yugi yawned, “Because I still feel funny, and I think I’m going to fall asleep soon.”
Kaiba gently set the plate back on the table, next to Yugi’s empty juice box. “Come on, you can stay the night.”
“I don’t wanna sleep in a guest room,” Yugi found himself whining, “the beds are always stiff and cold, like a hotel.”
Kaiba looked at him for a long, long moment, and whatever it was must have been wearing off because this time Yugi couldn’t fully read the other man’s expression.
“Come on, you’ll stay in my room then.”
“Really?”
“It’ll still be a firm mattress though, so don’t complain about your back tomorrow.”
Yugi found himself grinning as he wrapped himself up in his blanket and stood to follow Kaiba, “I would never!”
Kaiba rolled his eyes, but settled a hand at the small of Yugi’s back to lead him through the Manor, “You absolutely would.”
Yugi’s giggles bounced along the empty corridors as they meandered off to bed.