Disclaimer: Saucily not mine.

A/N: Futurefic. Written for Arien Elesar as part of ygodrabble's Secret Santa 2012. Makes reference to Japanese custom of bringing home a Christmas cake during the festive season (details of which can be found at tofugu dot com slash 2012 slash 12 slash 25 slash let dash them dash eat dash strawberry dash shortcake dash christmas dash in dash japan slash). Jounouchi/Seto. Apologies if it's crap, for I am the ultimate in craptitude what it comes to slashfic.

The Spirit of Christmas Cake

© Scribbler, December 2012.

"Ah, Mr. Kaiba …"

Seto flicked his eyes at the intercom. This latest in a long line of secretaries had a tremulous voice, not helped by her obvious apprehension. Since he had left strict instructions he was not to be bothered foranyreason other than the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse demanding a meeting to discuss merchandising rights for Armageddon, she doubtless thought she was about to be out of a job.

"Sir?"

"What is it?" He didn't bother with her name. He went through secretaries so fast there was no point in learning what any of them were called.

"There's, uh, someone to see you, sir."

"I thought I was quite clear in my instructions."

"Yes, sir, but … ah … he was quite, ah, insistent."

Seto frowned at the sudden staticky noise of someone snatching the headset off her head. The sound of her choking said the thief hadn't unclipped the wire from her collar first and so had nearly strangled her.

"Yo, bozo. Open the freaking door to your office, okay?"

Seto pinched the skin between his eyes and sighed. "What do you want, idiot?"

"I'm the spirit of Christmas cheer. You gonna open that door or what?"

Since it would probably be booted open if he didn't and it was an expensive wood panelled wood, Seto got up, crossed the room in three strides and unlocked it. It flew open so fast he half suspected someone had been waiting with an ear pressed to the other side. Jounouchi strode in like he owned the place, bearing a big grin and a square pink box with the logo of a local bakery on the side.

"Ho ho ho, merry Christmas and all that crap. What the hell are you doing here so late on Christmas Eve?"

"Working."

"Eehhh, wrong answer. Everybody else already clocked off except you and that poor woman out there. You're a real slave driver, y'know? No wonder all your secretaries keep quitting."

Seto folded his arms. "And you're a layabout who wouldn't know hard work if it bit him."

"On the ass."

"Excuse me?"

"You forgot to finish the sentence: 'wouldn't know hard work if it bit him on the ass'."

Seto's expression darkened from a frown to a full-on scowl. Jounouchi had been working for a building merchant after Duel Monsters hit the skids as an international sport. He still did celebrity spots and 'where are they now?' segments on TV nostalgia shows, but his life had become very small and he seemed happy with what he had – even the things that kept pushing him away and claiming he was an idiot with the IQ of a kumquat. Seto couldn't understand him. "International trading doesn't stop just because of a holiday not every country celebrates."

Jounouchi blew a raspberry. "The world won't end just because you took off early for one day of the year. You didn't even quit early on your birthday!"

"Christmas isn't important to me." It hadn't been important since Mokuba grew too old to celebrate like a little kid and the magic disappeared from the season for his brother as well.

Thinking of Mokuba made Seto's mood even worse, even though Mokuba was excelling at school and primed to go to a good university next year. The idea that Mokuba he was no longer a child and didn't need protecting like he used to was one Seto had long since acknowledged, though he had more trouble actually accepting it. Mokuba growing up gave him a rootless feeling. Even though he was CEO of his own extremely successful company, a gaming champion and constantly featured on the world's rich lists, his sense of self remained in flux: if Mokuba no longer needed him and Yuugi had retired from professional gaming, what exactly was his purpose in life? Was he truly just here to work and be a good businessman? Had he hit his peak so early there was no other way but down anymore?

Jounouchi rolled his eyes. "Fuck. That." He kicked the door shut, also shutting out the curious face of Seto's secretary. Shoving Seto hard on his folded arms, Jounouchi propelled him backwards to the edge of his desk. Seto thrust out a hand in the universal symbol of 'stop right there', only to find his palm forcibly turned upwards and the pink box placed upon it.

"Merry Christmas, bozo." Jounouchi grinned like a loon. "I figured you wouldn't pick one of these up yourself, and what's Christmas without cake?"

Gingerly, Seto folded back the lid to find a white iced cake topped with large, glistening strawberries basted in syrup. The smell that wafted out was sweet and reminded him he had worked through his lunch hour and when he would usually have eaten his evening meal. It was now close to eight o' clock at night. His stomach demanded cake. His brain, however, went down a different path. The thoughts of Mokuba and his own rootlessness convulsed and fragmented inside Seto like someone had thrown a big rock in a pond and made them ripple into a new picture. He raised his eyes to Jounouchi's stupid grinning face. No ripples out here in reality, but the notion remained the same.

"Everybody needs a company and a cake on Christmas, dude. It's, like, the law or something."

"And you'd know about that." Seto placed the box on the desk beside him, carefully refolding the lid.

"I'm an expert on Christmas – mmff!" Jounouchi's words were cut off as Seto grabbed his collar and dragged him in for a hard, fierce kiss. It lasted several seconds and when it finished they were both breathless. "Whoa! I should bring you cake more often."

Seto didn't smile. However, the corners of his mouth did twitch. Just a smidge. "Idiot."