Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh.

A/N: This fic was actually inspired by a piece of fanart that I happened to stumble across. I initially posted the link for it here, but apparently it didn't work. It's on my profile page if anyone's curious.

I have no idea who the artist is, but it's absolutely beautiful and subtle, capturing a rare moment of vulnerability between Kaiba and Joey, and it filled me with the urge to type out a story. This is my interpretation of the picture. I might do a companion one later, but this oneshot is it for now. (And if anyone does know who the artist is, please let me know!)

-The Sky's Fault-

He didn't feel much like going home.

It was the first time in years he'd felt this way.

In fact, the last time he'd felt the same sort of reluctance was when he and Mokuba had still been living with Gozaburo. He would never have guessed then that Mokuba would be the cause of similar feelings.

Seto lowered himself onto the steps, caring little about wetness of the ground, and caring even less about the people staring at him. People always stared at him. It was a part of his life that he'd quickly grown used to, even came to expect, though with carefully concealed dislike. They were all so pathetic, so annoyingly predictable.

Snatches of pointless gossip he didn't want to hear made its way to him anyway. He lifted his head to the drizzle of the rain, wishing he could drown out the meaningless noises, the wasteful words. But it was no use. Just as it was no use wishing that the memory of Mokuba's angry words would fade as well.

What exactly did a person do when the only one they cared about turned around to attack them?

Seto huffed. He wasn't deluded. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to live with, to love. And Mokuba did love him, he had no doubts about that. But sometimes it seemed his temper brought out the worst in the both of them. And it was hard to bring out the worst in Mokuba. What did that say about him, he wondered.

He ran a hand over his eyes, the wetness of the rain rubbing from his face and onto his fingers. When he'd been younger, he'd always found the rain relaxing. It didn't matter whether it was a soft drizzle or a furious downpour. Afterwards, the world had always seemed brighter, cleaner somehow. Like a fresh slate. And as a kid with his less than rosy past, he'd liked the idea of fresh slates.

He wasn't so naive now. It rained, but the world remained the same. The same problems would be awaiting him, the same words which had been used like a whip, the same words which had been left unspoken.

He could sit in the rain for as long as he liked and nothing about him would have changed, except the state of his clothes. It was a grey world, harsh and bleak, and no one was better acquainted with that fact than Seto Kaiba.

Seto Kaiba sat hunched over. He seemed oblivious to everything around him, to the people shooting him strange looks, to his precious coat ends becoming soiled in the mud. Oblivious even to his stupid hair falling even more into his stupid eyes because of the stupid rain.

Joey could feel a scowl take over his face. Seeing Kaiba usually did that to him. The mystery was why the rest of the world didn't react in exactly the same way. Or maybe they were just better at hiding it.

Joey sighed and zipped up his jacket right up to his neck and gave the hood a vicious tug. He was going to regret this. It didn't take a genius to know that. His first instinct had been to walk away. He knew there was a million percent chance that Kaiba would bite his head off. But for some reason he hadn't walked away.

Kaiba had looked...alone.

"Ugh!" Joey groaned under his breath. Of course, Kaiba looked alone.

People who're sitting by themselves usually look alone, Joe.

And now he was talking to himself.

"First sign of madness," Joey muttered to himself, stalking over to the hunched figure on the steps. He wordlessly stuck out the umbrella over the bent head.

At first there was no reaction. Maybe he hadn't noticed.

Maybe he's out of it. That thought – no matter how illogical - filled Joey with a tremendous feeling of relief. But then Kaiba's head lifted, and Joey could see the man's eyes, cold and distant, staring at him from under a wet fringe. As usual, there was contempt in Kaiba's gaze.

Told you you'd regret it, you idiot.

Joey gritted his teeth, preparing himself.

"What do you want, Wheeler?" And there it was. The words were slow and measured, but there was no mistaking it. The hate. The disgust. The scorn.

Believe me, pal, you're not the only one who's disgusted.

"I don't want anythin'." Joey was surprised at how quiet his tone was. Surprised at his own restraint. He didn't think he'd gone this long in Kaiba's present without shouting some insult.

Kaiba blinked again, but his eyes stayed cold and hard. He tipped his head back to take in the umbrella hovering over him, blinking against the drops that slipped from his fringe and into his eyes. He slit a glance at Joey before looking away.

The thin lips curled into Kaiba's signature sneer. "I can take care of myself."

Joey wanted to punch the sneer off the idiot's face. "I know that!"

Kaiba's head snapped back at the bite in Joey's words, his eyes narrowing angrily on Joey's face. "Watch your tone, Wheeler." His words were still slow, slipping from his lips cautiously, as if with conscious effort. And because he'd been so unaware of it before, the realization hit Joey like a sledgehammer.

"You're drunk." He didn't bother to hide his disbelief.

Kaiba sneered again. "You're a regular Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?"

"Seto Kaiba, drunk," Joey murmured. "Huh."

Kaiba blinked at him, unimpressed. "You know, I thought it was impossible, but you look even stupider than usual."

Normally that would have been enough to rile Joey up, but now that he could hear the tiniest bit of slur in the words he found he could excuse Kaiba his ass-holish behaviour this once.

But he did settle for glaring at the man. "Don't you have a limo you should be holed away in?"

Kaiba matched his glare. Outdid it. Kaiba could always do the hate thing better than him, anyway. Their gazes held for a moment before Kaiba huffed and looked away again, muttering "I told Rowland not to bother."

"Why?"

"You're nosy, aren't you Wheeler? But then, I guess that's a prized quality among mutts." The usual sharpness Kaiba's words had was now hampered by his drunken state.

Joey tipped his head to glare at the sky, as if somehow, it was the sky's fault. And in a way it was. If it hadn't been raining he wouldn't have done the unthinkable and taken pity on this jackass of a CEO. He blew out a breath and then looked back down to find Kaiba's eyes on him. They regarded him blankly.

Joey felt off-kilter. There was something different. This was definitely Kaiba, the usual ass-hole Kaiba, but there was something different. As if his edges had been smudged. He was less sharp. Joey didn't know if it was the fact that he was drunk, or just the rain creating that illusion. Either way he didn't like it. He much preferred it when Kaiba was being a jerk.

Kaiba was still eyeing him.

"Shouldn't you be gettin' home? It's kinda late. No doubt Mokuba's worried."

Kaiba's eyes hardened even more, and his lips turned up at a cruel angle. "What the hell would you know about it, Wheeler?"

"I'm a brother, too, Kaiba. I know plenty." For the first time since their short conversation, Joey allowed all the anger he was feeling to fill his words.

Kaiba seemed to realize it, and he blinked again. Joey was surprised to see the cruel glint in Kaiba's eyes reduce a little.

"Get up. You need to get home."

Kaiba huffed with something like amusement. "And what? You're going to get me there?"

Joey rolled his eyes, and tossed the umbrella onto the ground. It wasn't much use, anyway. Kaiba had been pretty wet already. He bent over to grab the wide lapels of Kaiba's coat and yanked him up with a grunt. Kaiba's drunken stupor made him a dead weight, and he seemed in no hurry to help out Joey. He swayed on his feet, and Joey kept a hold on his elbow as he bent to pick up the umbrella.

"Don't feel well," he heard Kaiba murmur.

Joey looked up in surprise. No doubt the drink was affecting Kaiba's filter – there was no way he would have 'fessed up to that otherwise, Joey was certain.

"Yeah, well, sittin' in the rain like a moron can do that to you."

Maybe he shouldn't have said that, because suddenly Kaiba's fingers tightened around his collar and Joey felt himself tugged forwards. Hard, blue eyes took over his vision.

"I'm getting sick of your shit, Wheeler."

Joey stared into the flat pupils, his blood simmering a little, but miraculously he managed to avoid hitting Kaiba in some way.

"Let go of me, Kaiba."

Kaiba's eyes bored into his for a long moment, before the fingers loosened and he straightened, taking a quick step back.

It seemed the movements were too sudden, because he swayed dangerously and Joey shot out an arm around the other man's waist. Kaiba was slightly taller, unexpectedly heavier, and his drunken swaying, along with the wetness underfoot was making it difficult for Joey to keep him steady.

He tightened his arm and held up the umbrella with his other one, trying to keep as much rain off Kaiba as possible. Not that Joey cared about the jerk more than himself or anything – it was just that the idiot had already been sitting in the wet, anyway, and he didn't see any reason to add to that. No doubt Kaiba would feel the effects of his stupidity the next morning.

"Where are you taking me?" Kaiba's head was bent, his gravelly voice floating just above Joey's head. His left arm was draped over Joey's neck, making it difficult for Joey to keep his head up.

"We'll have to find a cab," Joey muttered against the rain and wind in his face. The hood of his jacket flopped uselessly at his back.

Kaiba snorted. "You don't have a car. Why am I not surprised?"

"You're a real jerk, ya know that?" Joey shot another glare at the man, before straightening his gaze, focusing on keeping both of them upright. It was a little hard to see with little droplets of rain water stabbing at his face.

"You're wet." Kaiba sounded surprised.

Joey rolled his eyes. "You're a real Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?" He imitated Kaiba's gravelly voice and unimpressed tone.

There was a huff from Kaiba which might have been laughter but Joey was doubtful. The day Seto Kaiba laughed at one of his jokes would be the day Joey managed to beat Yugi at a duel monster's game. In other words – it was the slimmest of slim chances.

He kept his eyes peeled for a cab. The sooner the both of them got out of this rain the better. He could feel Kaiba shivering a little against him, and much as he hated the man, he wasn't exactly one for revenge.

"Ah, talk about luck," Joey grinned. "One cab left. Just for us. Come on, Kaiba." It was all the way at the other end of the street and Joey hoped no one else would get to it before them.

He felt Kaiba's arm at his neck move a little, and then a heavy palm pushed his hood over his head.

"Mm. Won't be so wet anymore."

For the second time that night, Joey felt surprise take over him. He stared at Kaiba, but the man's eyes had slid away, his head falling forward once more.

"The wet dog smell won't be so bad now," Kaiba muttered.

Nope. Joey was right. He definitely regretted helping the jackass.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think. I love to hear readers' comments ^_^ (Also, this is a oneshot, so please no request for updates.) Thank you!