NON DISCLOSURE ARRANGEMENT

Chapter 2: Introducing: Kaiba (A Megalomaniac)

Yugi knows more about Seto Kaiba than most. The lines of his face, his favorite games, what fashion lines he’s been photographed in for GQ, Vogue, and Newsweek, which companies he’s partnered with and which are rivals. It’s one thing to know a lot about your hero, and it’s another thing to be sitting next to him, smelling his cologne, listening to the creak of his leather pants as he crosses his legs, listening to him absolutely reaming the room of applicants a new one.

“Let’s get one thing straight, losers,” Kaiba says, voice textured with boredom and disgust, “this is no easy job. It is not a job for sniveling sycophants, it is not a job for the pampered and privileged, and it is not a job for those conniving towards higher aspirations. I can tell just by looking at most of you that you’re destined to fail. Especially those of you whose faces I recognize.” He points dramatically at the other end of the table, where several of the young men who had harassed Yugi outside sit cowering in their seats. “I have thousands of people begging to kiss my ass any given day of the week, I certainly don’t need to pay some sweaty teenage fanboy to do it.”

Well, at least I’m only two of those… Yugi thinks to himself as he surreptitiously wipes his damp hands on his slacks. Kaiba continues his rant.

“You will do what I say, when I say it, without question, and with absolute loyalty. This job is demeaning, menial, and not for pathetic weaklings looking for an easy meal ticket. To have any chance of employment, you must impress me, and I am not easily impressed. Now,” he leans back, weaving his fingers together and resting his elbows on his arm rests. “Go grab me a cup of coffee. When you are done you will bring it directly to me in my office. If you spill so much as one drop, you’re done. You may use any and all resources available to you to get the job done. You have twenty five minutes”

The room remains still as everyone stares in stunned silence. A couple chairs squeak as the applicants shift uncomfortably. Kaiba stands abruptly.

“Well, you worthless sacks of slime??” he roars, slamming both hands on the table, sending the neatly stacked pile of pamphlets scattering across the floor. “ GET MOVING!!!

Yugi opens his mouth to ask a question, but his chair is roughly pulled out from under him as the crowd flounders to grab the pamphlets. He struggles to right himself, but is beaten down again by hands and elbows and polished shoes, completely forgotten as just another piece of furniture to vault over as his competitors race for the door.

Kaiba scrolls absentmindedly through his phone as the receding stampede fades away, replaced by the soft hum of air conditioning and the squeak of a still-spinning chair.

“Good. Great. Great job, boss.” Mai’s voice comes from beside him. “You’ve managed to kill the only applicant who wasn’t an asshole or a pervert. I’m not helping you deal with the lawsuit.”

Kaiba looks up, considering the prone and trampled form of the young man the crowd had sacrificed in their quest for coffee. “I did no such thing,” he chides, returning his gaze to his phone. “They all signed their NDAs and arbitration agreements well before arriving, so stop complaining.” Mai clicks her tongue angrily and marches over to examine the applicant’s condition. There’s a prominent set of dirty footprints on the back of his purple button-up, but he groans and pushes himself up as she comes near.

“Oh good! You’re not dead. No thanks to our friendly CEO.” She shoots Kaiba a threatening look. Kaiba ignores it. Mai offers a hand to help the poor boy on his feet. “What was your name again, kid?”

“Y-Yugi,” he offers, taking Mai’s hand gratefully. “Yugi Muto.”

Mai nods and gives Yugi an alarmingly strong pat on the back. “Well, Yugi, it’s been a pleasure. I’m sorry to see you go - you were my favorite.” Yugi gives her a startled look as she begins tidying up the scattered pamphlets. “G-go? Do I have to go now?” Mai shrugs. “Well, unless you think you can make it down a hundred flights of stairs fast enough to beat your crowd of competitors to the cafe. I mean, I suppose you could jump, but I’d hate to watch you die twice in half an hour.” Yugi frowns, rubbing his bruised shoulder with one hand as he considers the door pensively. “Well, but… it’s about getting the coffee to… to Mr Kaiba’s office, right? Not me getting to the café. Can I… is there a company phone I’m allowed to use? Internal?”

Kaiba looks up, briefly.

Mai sighs, resting the stack of pamphlets back on the table. “As Mister Kaiba stated, ‘you may use any and all resources at your disposal to get the job done’.” She points to the conference phone embedded in the center of the table. “Have at it.” Yugi beams, reaching for the phone - he’s short enough that he has to lie across the table to see the listed numbers, toes barely touching the floor. Once he finds what he’s looking for, he quickly dials an extension and clutches the phone to his ear.

“Hello! Is this the café? Can I speak to Anzu Mazaki please, I’m,” he shoots a nervous glance at Kaiba. Kaiba meets his gaze and Yugi immediately turns away, attempting to hide his blush. “I-I’m calling on behalf of Mr Seto Kaiba.” A moment’s pause. “Anzu? Hey, it’s Yugi!!” He sits down on the edge of the table as excited chatter erupts from the phone.

“Ass off the table,” Kaiba warns. Yugi sinks into the nearest chair without question.

“Y-yeah, I know, the coffee,” he continues hurriedly, “I’m sorry, I know you’re swamped, but I need you to make it for me. Do you know how he takes it? N-no? Hold on, let me…” He reaches out for a pamphlet. Mai begins to hand him one, but Kaiba snatches it out of her hand and puts it back on the pile. Yugi recoils. Mai throws her hands in the air, seething quietly. “It’s.. um…” He scrunches his eyes shut, trying to concentrate. “K-kona. Fresh ground, pour over, no milk, no sugar. Is that… that sounds familiar?? Okay, awesome!! Can you bring it upstairs?? Not outside the cafeteria…? Oh. H-hold on.” He puts one hand over the receiver. “Is there an elevator I can use?”

Mai sighs. “No, not one you can use. This floor uses the same elevator as Mr Kaiba’s suite. It’s restricted, you’ll need a special key card to access it.” She lifts her card up from the end of her lanyard to show him.

“Can you lend me yours??” He pleads. “I-I’ll bring it right back!”

“Only if she wants to lose her job,” Kaiba interjects, having gone back to scrolling through his phone. Mai shoots her boss a dirty look, but nods. “It’s true, it’s a major security violation - if a certain someone doesn’t authorize it. I’m sorry kid, you’re stubborn, I’ll give you that! But I think you need to let this one go.”

Yugi takes a deep breath, gathering his nerves as he turns to the aloof CEO. “May I borrow yours, Mr Kaiba?”

Kaiba looks up, slowly, meeting Yugi’s eyes with a steely blue stare. Yugi doesn’t look away. “Please... Sir.” Kaiba considers him for a long, unblinking moment. Finally, he pulls a thin leather cord from around his neck, and hands Yugi his card. Mai lets out a small gasp. Yugi beams, stretching his short body across the table as far as he can to accept it. “Th-thank you Mr Kaiba, sir, I promise I won’t-”

Kaiba snatches Yugi’s wrist as soon as the young man has the card. “Listen to me carefully, pipsqueak. If you are not in my office in twenty minutes, with my keycard , I will send security to track you down and throw you out. If you damage my keycard , in any way, shape, or form, I will have you arrested for destruction of private property, and you will never work at any job, ever again, any day of your life . Repeat it back to me.” Kaiba locks eyes with Yugi as the trembling young man recites it back, red-faced and trembling. “I-if I’m not back in your office in twenty minutes, with the card, you’ll have me thrown out… If I damage the card, you’ll have me arrested, and I’ll never work again... M-mister Kaiba, sir.” Kaiba releases him, and Yugi slides back into his chair, hiding his flushed face behind the phone. “Anzu? You… you heard that? O-okay, I’ll meet you at the bottom of the elevator. Thank you Anzu!! I owe you big time!!” He jumps to his feet and slams the phone down, hesitating for one awkward moment before bolting out of the room without another word.

Kaiba glares down the hall even after the young man disappears clumsily around the corner, considering the middle distance with characteristic disinterest. After an extended moment of silence, he turns to address Mai. “What’s with that shitty face you’re making.”

Mai’s foxlike, gloating smile spreads wider. “You like him.”

Kaiba clicks his tongue, turning away. “Ridiculous.”

Mai leans in closer to deliver a stage whisper. “You should hire him.”

“I shouldn’t hire anyone ,” he counters, reaching for his phone to set a countdown timer, “let alone a runt that barely survived exiting a crowded room. You’re the only one who thinks I need an assistant, and that’s only because you don’t want to do your job .” He stands to leave without waiting for her to catch up. Mai follows along with practiced speed. “My job , Mr Kaiba, is to take your calls and schedule your meetings. My job is not fetching your dry cleaning, it is not getting your coffee, it is not driving your little brother to the mall, and it is certainly not kissing your ass.” Kaiba shoots her a warning look and she raises her hands defensively. “I’m just saying… you should hire him.” Kaiba ignores her, continuing up the last flight of stairs towards his suite. Mai frowns. “You need to hire someone .” He continues to ignore her as they round the corner towards his expansive, glass-enclosed office. Mai huffs in exasperation and stomps her foot. “If you don’t hire someone, I’ll quit!!”

“I’ll look forward to seeing your resignation letter on my desk by end of day,” Kaiba counters dryly. The biometric scan pings and opens the door with a gentle whoosh . “And prepare to bring me my coffee soon, I have zero hopes of success for any of these nerds.”

“If you didn’t like him you wouldn’t have given him your badge!” She presses, “And if you didn’t want an assistant, you wouldn’t have given him a head start on that twenty minute timer!”

Kaiba holds up his phone. It’s been counting down from 15 minutes.

“Sadist,” Mai spits as the soundproof doors close in front of her. She retreats to her desk, rubbing her temples as she flops into her chair. “Oh my god, Mai, you are too good for this job.”

Yugi chews his painted nails fretfully, twisting the black cord around his neck as the elevator falls. Of course, Seto Kaiba’s reputation as an intense leader precedes him, but to experience it in person is another thing entirely. Does he even want the job at this point? He looks down at his wrist, remembering the vice grip of those fingers, the image of those burning blue eyes stuck in his vision like sunspots, the scent of the CEO’s cologne still wafting around him. He shudders in spite of himself. Kaiba is so much hotter in person. And he smells amazing .

He shakes his head. “God Yugi, turn the gayness down for like five minutes, please” he mutters out loud. “Think of the paycheck. Think of Grandpa.” He stares at the ceiling, tapping one toe on the ground to pass the time. How much longer is this elevator ride? He checks his phone - it hasn’t even been a full minute. Christ, his heart is pounding so hard. The badge jangles and taps against his chest as he fidgets, and finally he grabs it to keep it still. A sharp sigh escapes his lips, and he peers down at the precious object. His hands are still shaking. God. Mr Kaiba really gave this to him. Well… lent it to him. He turns it over, willing himself to believe that it’s real. That any of this is real. It doesn’t feel real at all.

He gasps as his eyes catch sight of something shiny, rectangular, and prismatic tucked into the transparent badge casing. It’s a Duel Monsters card - well, a sticker recreation of one. Limited edition, too. Yugi has a few of these on his laptop at home. It’s unpeeled, cut out with exacting precision and slid inside with tender care. A grin breaks out across his face, and he whips out his cell phone as the elevator slows, quickly texting Anzu that he needs an extra sharpie as well. He hopes she sees it. He’s got a great idea.

Kaiba leans lazily back in his seat, watching the applicants scurry about on the various security feeds spread across three monitors. This is pointless. Beyond pointless, actually: it is a literal waste of his time. His eyes flit to the clock, his thoughts already ticking steadily away at tasks for later in the day. He’ll have to work late tonight - again. Mokuba will be disappointed, and possibly even angry. Tension creeps into his shoulders, pulling painfully against his already aching spine. He’s worked late every night this month. It would be worth it in the end for what he had planned, but the toll on his physique and his family is beginning to actually affect him. Mokuba deserves better. Especially after all he’s been through.

A dart of purple catches his eye on one of the camera feeds - the trampled applicant, exiting the elevator on the top floor, clutching a coffee to his chest. He’s ordered a large size - one measly point in his favor. He’s also the only applicant at the top floor - one more point. He leans his cheek against his fist, frowning with unbridled repulsion as he scans the bickering, bruised, and coffee-stained rich kids practically eating each other as they heft themselves back up the massive staircase. Back to the trampled kid. He’s stopped just outside of the elevator, fixing up his hair and clothes to look presentable. Okay, so he’s tidy. One more point. The kid reaches over and checks the temperature of the coffee, looking satisfied. Another point.

He moves forward to rest his lips lightly onto steepled fingers, considering the strange young man a bit more seriously. Whether he’s any good at the task itself remains to be seen, but he at least stands out from the crowd. Faint praise - he stands out anyway with that ridiculous haircut. Still, there’s something about his demeanor that caught Kaiba’s attention from the start. He’s demure, polite and a little bit cowering, but he doesn’t simper, and even when directly threatened he’d kept his eyes steady and did not back down. Kaiba had liked those eyes, in the moment. Big and purple and intense. And soft.

He pulls himself back into the present, stretching his back and huffing impatiently. He must be tired, to allow his mind to drift. As much as he hates to admit it, Mai might have a point. He could use a hand with the menial shit. He could use some more time with Mokie. He sighs, eking out a slow and barely audible breath. No one is around to witness the shadow that slips into his countenance, dragging his shoulders and eyelids down almost imperceptibly. Mai is right more often than he’ll ever admit, particularly about himself. He’s endlessly thankful for her. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing. Unfortunately, she’s probably already aware - the bitch.

…Where is that damn applicant? He should have arrived already. Kaiba scans the screens. There he is. He leans forward and squints. The young man is squatting next to Mai’s desk, biting on his lip as he scribbles something on the cup with a sharpie. Mai is holding the badge up, balanced between one long-nailed finger and the desk, leaning on her other hand and looking at the applicant with curiosity. “What the fuck?” Kaiba mutters, sparing a glance at the other feeds. The remaining applicants are storming up the last few steps, nearly at his heels. His heartbeat quickens, pissing on his efforts to remain willfully disinterested. “What are you doing, you fool?” 

The young man stands as if on cue, waving to Mai and racing down the last bit of hallway as if his life depends on it. The others are close enough he must hear them. They seem to be shouting at him, in fact. Kaiba looks up precisely on time to see him appear in front of his door. He meets Kaiba’s glare, eyes filled with panic and excitement. He tries to open the door. It does not budge. He knocks. Kaiba leans back, staring daggers of unimpressed judgment. Those purple pools flicker with fear for a split second before he gasps, fumbling with the keycard before tapping it to the sensor. The door slides quietly open, the roar of the other applicants washing through the room briefly before it swings shut again, locking them out, and the young man in. Silence sweeps the room. The young man hesitates for only a moment, drawing in a steadying breath. Kaiba waits patiently as he makes his way over.

“Your coffee, Mr Kaiba,” he murmurs, voice quiet and with forced calm. He sets the drink down on the coaster Kaiba has set to the side. Observant. Another point in his favor. Goddamn it. Kaiba can see his hands tremble. He continues to glare at that flushed and pouty face as he reaches over and pauses the timer. The other man’s parted lips are dry from panting, his bangs cling to his sweaty brow, his throat bobs under that buckled collar as he swallows down his nerves. A slight heat rises in Kaiba’s stomach. He pulls his attention back down to the coffee with a derisive sniff, and that’s when he spots the doodle. He stares. Shaky-lined, obnoxiously cartoony, and warped from the curve of the cup, Blue Eyes White Dragon goggles up at him with mismatched, beady eyes.

He looks back up at the applicant, considering him for a long moment. The other man’s eyes waver, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck to slide under his shirt by his collarbone. He does not look away. Neither does Kaiba, and he raises the coffee to his lips for final judgment. The hot liquid flows across his tongue, and he closes his eyes with wrathful ecstasy. Fuck. Fuck . It’s perfect. Hot and bitter and alive. He lets it rest on his tongue briefly, savoring it before permitting himself to swallow. God fucking damn it. His eyes fly open again, and he sets the drink aside.

“Sit.”

He sits, immediately, like a well trained dog. Kaiba resists the urge to stare at that collar again. Silently, he reaches out his hand, palm up, demanding. The other man’s brow furrows slightly before he figures it out. He fumbles with the cord around his neck, pulling it over his mane of unruly hair and holding it out for Kaiba to take. “S-sorry,” he laughs, tucking a sweat-soaked lock of hair behind his ear. “Forgot about that.”

Again ,” Kaiba corrects, snatching the pass back, delighted finally to be able to dock the applicant some points. Had he been too perfect, Kaiba would have thrown him out by the seat of his cheap slacks. Perfect is suspicious - unless it’s himself, of course. “You forgot at the door as well. Both instances cost you precious time you could not afford to spare.” He tilts his phone up with a couple lazy fingers, displaying the timer for him to see. Six seconds remain. The other man swallows nervously. His collar bobs along with it. Kaiba wills himself not to notice. He leans back in his chair instead, taking another long sip of his coffee and twirling his keycard in his fingers. The sticker Mokuba had slipped in flashes rainbow in the afternoon light. Aha. So that’s where the shitty doodle idea came in. He grits his teeth at the sight of it. How childish. He props the card up against one of his many monitors, sticker side out, and slides a notepad out from one of his desk drawers, slapping it with a loud bang on the glass surface. The applicant flinches. Kaiba smiles, a pleased shiver running up his spine. Oopsies. He picks up a pen and begins to write disinterestedly.

“Name. Age. Birthdate.”

The applicant straightens, tucking his hands politely into his lap. “A-ah, um. Muto. Yugi Muto. 22 years old, June 4th. Sir.”

Kaiba’s hand stops. June 4th. So, five months older than him, in other words. He spares him another glare. He didn’t hold himself like a teenager, but Kaiba had assumed he was at least a little bit younger than him. To think this… shrimp is older than him makes Kaiba want to chuck him out the nearest window. He huffs sharply through his nostrils before continuing.

“Experience in the field.”

Yugi Muto shuffles in his seat, switching into a clearly practiced monologue. “I’ve worked in a game store all my life. I’m familiar with nearly your entire product line, as well as handling a wide variety of business needs, from scheduling appointments and events to handling finances, household chores and responsibilities, and handling conflict and unruly customers. I’m used to being on my feet all day, up to 12 hours a day, and then doing paperwork at night, six days a week. I’m confident, agreeable, flexible, and don’t take up much space.”

Kaiba snorts in spite of himself. “You make it sound like I’m going to stuff you into a suitcase,” he jabs.

Yugi shrugs lightly. “Whatever the job requires.” Kaiba’s eyebrows raise at that - hidden by his hair, thank god - and he shoots the tiny man an inquisitive look. He’s sweating again, and tight lipped. Clearly regretting the joke. Oopsies. Kaiba snorts again, and returns to his notes, making sure to jot down ‘ Fits in a suitcase ’ in bold font right where Yugi can see it. He can hear him swallow. He can imagine that collar without looking. Fuck.

“This job is not a joke,” he says tersely, channeling his creeping frustration into a more biting tone. “This job is not easy, nor is it fun. You will work seven days a week, if I say so. You will work 16 hours a day, if I say so. You will be salaried, pay non-negotiable. Promoting you would be pointless, you stay exactly at the level you are until I no longer need you or you crash and burn. If you think for one second you are going to crash and burn then get the hell out of my office, I don’t have time for losers.” He taps the pen against his desk, leaning back to consider him again. “Questions?” 

The other man nods, unflinching. “How much does the position pay? That was unspecified in your listing.” Kaiba’s eyebrows raise again. Bold first question. And a good one. “$190k base with 10k yearly bonus. Raises may be put on the table in the future, if you’re a very good boy. But I’m not considering them now.” Yugi’s wide eyes defocus, his soft lips parting in shock. Kaiba wonders if it’s at the ‘good boy’ comment, or the salary. Probably the salary. Kid looks poor as shit. “Anything else? Or are we done here?” Yugi pulls himself together. “Ah, um, yes. What do you consider to be the most important part of the position, sir?” His eyes focus intently on Kaiba’s. “What can I do to impress you? I want to know.”

The question catches Kaiba off guard. Not even the question itself, but the delivery of it. The earnestness, the passion. The vulnerability. He pauses, fighting off fury. Nothing catches him off guard. He must be tired. Fuck. Shit. He covers his weak moment by leaning far, far back, looking Yugi up and down, scrutiny and impatience plastered over his features. Yugi looks right back at him, and he hates him for it. “I do not actually want a personal assistant,” he replies, low and cold, not bothering to hide his anger now. “This entire farce is the fault of my executive assistant, who you’ve met. She seems to find her job ‘impossible’, and my leading style ‘sadistic’ and ‘deranged’.” He shrugs. “And she’s right. I want the impossible. I require it: I am running out of time to get important work done. To answer your question: I need you to put more hours in the day, whatever it takes, no matter how impossible.”

Yugi nods, accepting the information without question. Kaiba grits his teeth. If only this tiny bastard would fuck up, do something idiotic, fight back, piss him off, cause a scene. But he sits there, professional and neat, and Kaiba is consumed once again with the urge to pick him up and throw him. He leans forward instead, pressing the call button on his desk.

“Mai. Tell those sweaty dipshits out there to take a hike. Position’s filled.”

The throng of sweaty dipshits has already surrounded Kaiba’s glass office doors, jealous and nosy and fuming at the indignity of Yugi’s private interview. At Kaiba’s announcement, the disheveled trust fund kids groan and kick and shout, silent behind the sound insulated door. Kaiba waits patiently until he can see Mai fight her way through, twisting arms and ears to clear them out, before he returns his sights to his new assistant.

Yugi clutches his chest, beaming with shocked delight, all sense of professionalism dropped for the moment. His cheeks are flushed again. those lovely eyes brimming with tears of gratitude. “Th-thank you, Mr Kaiba sir!! I’ll work hard, as hard as I can. Y-you won’t regret it, I promise!!”

Kaiba huffs, tossing his notes aside. As satisfying as it is to see Yugi finally drop the act and be sloppy, it’s sweet and raw and emotional and it’s making his skin itch .

“See that I don’t,” he sneers. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”