Seto/Ryuuji; 652w; T, dragon (sorta) au, mentions of abuse
The name Kaiba Seto is known well enough around the entire world, but there's nowhere that it carries as much weight, as much story, as within dragon-collector circles.
It started with the prize jewel in his collection. Her name is Kisara and she is both fierce and beautiful, the first of several more dragons of her breed, the sunlight glinting off their glossy pearlescent scales, their blue eyes shining like sapphires. Seto has collected as many blue eyes white dragons that he can reasonably keep in his dracary, then moved onto collecting other kinds of dragons.
None of them, Ryuuji thinks, are quite as peculiar as he is. He sits on his haunches, watching Seto approach, and flattens his wings against his back, slouching forward to lie on the ground to give off an air of indifference. He flicks his tail lazily, lifting his head as Seto approaches his clearing.
"You must have paid a pretty price to be allowed up here," Ryuuji comments, glancing over at his father. Otogi-san, he knows, would not miss the opportunity to charge Seto through the nose just to guide him up here to Ryuuji's dragon cave.
"Nothing I couldn't afford," Seto replies flippantly, arms folded across his chest. "Most dragons don't talk."
"Most dragons," Ryuuji laughs, "aren't as interesting as I am."
He watches as Seto's eyes narrow, assessing. Even if Seto doesn't agree out loud, the fact that he's come here to meet with Ryuuji says enough.
"I want to talk to the dragon," Seto decides. He glances over his shoulder, to where Otogi-san is standing. "Alone."
Otogi-san laughs. "There's no point. Dragons speak loudly enough that his voice will carry. He couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it."
Ryuuji laughs as well, so perfectly in control of his response that he doesn't even flinch at the memory that comes up unbidden.
"Humour me," Seto says, and his glare is piercing. "I believe I've paid you enough to afford at least ten minutes alone with the dragon."
Otogi-san doesn't respond immediately. He glares at Ryuuji, like this is somehow his fault. Ryuuji bites back the apology that is already making its way out of his throat.
"Ten minutes," Otogi-san replies, hobbling down the path and out of sight.
Seto waits until he's gone, then turns to Ryuuji. "You can shift now."
Ryuuji freezes up. Seto isn't meant to know—nobody is meant to know.
"Please," Seto scoffs quietly. "I've spent enough time around dragons to know that I'm not looking at one. What are you?"
Shifting, Ryuuji stands in front of Seto as a man, arms folded across his chest. "I'm whatever I need to be."
"Whatever you're asked to be?" There's an edge in Seto's voice that speaks of experience with the same thing. Ryuuji doesn't think he's reading too deeply into it. He doesn't think that it's chance that he's picked up on it either. Seto wants him to know that in one way or another, they're the same.
"Yeah," Ryuuji admits.
"I could use someone like that," Seto murmurs.
Ryuuji sneers. "Don't go thinking that you're about to save me, Kaiba."
"I'm giving you an opportunity to use your set of skills for something else," Seto replies. He shrugs, turning away from Ryuuji. "Think on it. I'm not the most patient of people."
"You came here for a dragon to add to your collection," Ryuuji says, frowning.
Seto laughs. "Dragons don't talk. I knew that before I came here. You have a day. I'll be back tomorrow to hear your decision. If your father asks, I'm giving you time to decide if you want to join my collection. I only take those who come willingly. I have no interest in owning you, but I think we could work together."
Ryuuji shifts back, before his father can figure out that something is amiss. "I suppose I'l see you tomorrow, then."
no subject
The name Kaiba Seto is known well enough around the entire world, but there's nowhere that it carries as much weight, as much story, as within dragon-collector circles.
It started with the prize jewel in his collection. Her name is Kisara and she is both fierce and beautiful, the first of several more dragons of her breed, the sunlight glinting off their glossy pearlescent scales, their blue eyes shining like sapphires. Seto has collected as many blue eyes white dragons that he can reasonably keep in his dracary, then moved onto collecting other kinds of dragons.
None of them, Ryuuji thinks, are quite as peculiar as he is. He sits on his haunches, watching Seto approach, and flattens his wings against his back, slouching forward to lie on the ground to give off an air of indifference. He flicks his tail lazily, lifting his head as Seto approaches his clearing.
"You must have paid a pretty price to be allowed up here," Ryuuji comments, glancing over at his father. Otogi-san, he knows, would not miss the opportunity to charge Seto through the nose just to guide him up here to Ryuuji's dragon cave.
"Nothing I couldn't afford," Seto replies flippantly, arms folded across his chest. "Most dragons don't talk."
"Most dragons," Ryuuji laughs, "aren't as interesting as I am."
He watches as Seto's eyes narrow, assessing. Even if Seto doesn't agree out loud, the fact that he's come here to meet with Ryuuji says enough.
"I want to talk to the dragon," Seto decides. He glances over his shoulder, to where Otogi-san is standing. "Alone."
Otogi-san laughs. "There's no point. Dragons speak loudly enough that his voice will carry. He couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it."
Ryuuji laughs as well, so perfectly in control of his response that he doesn't even flinch at the memory that comes up unbidden.
"Humour me," Seto says, and his glare is piercing. "I believe I've paid you enough to afford at least ten minutes alone with the dragon."
Otogi-san doesn't respond immediately. He glares at Ryuuji, like this is somehow his fault. Ryuuji bites back the apology that is already making its way out of his throat.
"Ten minutes," Otogi-san replies, hobbling down the path and out of sight.
Seto waits until he's gone, then turns to Ryuuji. "You can shift now."
Ryuuji freezes up. Seto isn't meant to know—nobody is meant to know.
"Please," Seto scoffs quietly. "I've spent enough time around dragons to know that I'm not looking at one. What are you?"
Shifting, Ryuuji stands in front of Seto as a man, arms folded across his chest. "I'm whatever I need to be."
"Whatever you're asked to be?" There's an edge in Seto's voice that speaks of experience with the same thing. Ryuuji doesn't think he's reading too deeply into it. He doesn't think that it's chance that he's picked up on it either. Seto wants him to know that in one way or another, they're the same.
"Yeah," Ryuuji admits.
"I could use someone like that," Seto murmurs.
Ryuuji sneers. "Don't go thinking that you're about to save me, Kaiba."
"I'm giving you an opportunity to use your set of skills for something else," Seto replies. He shrugs, turning away from Ryuuji. "Think on it. I'm not the most patient of people."
"You came here for a dragon to add to your collection," Ryuuji says, frowning.
Seto laughs. "Dragons don't talk. I knew that before I came here. You have a day. I'll be back tomorrow to hear your decision. If your father asks, I'm giving you time to decide if you want to join my collection. I only take those who come willingly. I have no interest in owning you, but I think we could work together."
Ryuuji shifts back, before his father can figure out that something is amiss. "I suppose I'l see you tomorrow, then."