Priest Seto extracts a full report, concludes that the Underworld's backing is now permanently secured, and disposes of his King mid-sentence. Atem returns to the living world to find his room has been relocated next to Seto's. What follows is a tutorial: Seto advances one small step per night, on the grounds that a beginner should not be thrown into the final phase without preparation. Atem revises for it out of magazines. This proves to have been no help whatsoever.
This is a translation of an Artificial Intelligence work.
Original Title: 08 沸騰王
Original Author: Gemini with 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
Still in a daze, Atem changed slowly into sweats, mechanically conveyed the lunch the staff had prepared to his mouth, and passed through the door to the Underworld with the tread of a sleepwalker.
The country of eternal dark; the palace of the Underworld.
"My King. Regarding today's progress, the report from the priesthood—"
"Ah… yes, Seto. …Splendid…"
"…I beg your pardon?"
Elbow propped on the desk in the office, gazing into empty space with hollow eyes, Atem was murmuring to himself.
He was getting through his ultra-short core duties, but his soul had plainly been left behind at Kaiba Manor in the living world. Absent-minded did not begin to cover it.
Priest Seto folded his arms and narrowed those cold eyes.
Hm… Boiled to that degree, there is no mistaking it: the modern-day whelp has finally brought him down. …In which case, let us extract every piece of information now and establish the fait accompli.
Priest Seto lowered his voice a full grade into something gentler — for him — and stepped forward in front of Atem.
"My King. This critical mission in the living world appears to have progressed considerably. How was the modern-day whelp? Did your enthusiasm reach him?"
"Seto… hear me out. Kaiba, on my forehead—"
His guard entirely down, Atem walked straight into Priest Seto's skilful leading questions — that is, into the relaxation of the lecturing tone — and began pouring out every detail of the previous night. That he had told him something important. That he had been asked whether he had the resolve. And — that he had been kissed on the forehead.
Having heard all of it, Priest Seto sounded a perfect fanfare of victory inside his own heart.
…Confirmed. Now that the Predecessor has become the modern-day whelp's official spouse, KaibaCorp's total assets, its super-science, and a Duelist who is effectively a god will function permanently as backing for our Underworld!
A political marriage of unimprovable perfection. The eternal security of the Underworld, secured.
There was no need to spend one further second listening to the amorous ramblings of a NEET who had served his purpose. Priest Seto rolled up a request form carelessly and tucked it under his arm while Atem was still mid-sentence — "and then, you see, Kaiba's scent was—"
"—That will do, my King. So long as I am satisfied that you will continue to perform your duties in the living world admirably, as a hostage — that is, as a spouse — I have nothing further to say."
"Eh? Ah, Seto? I haven't finished—"
"I have a meeting with the priesthood shortly, so if you will excuse me. Today's business is concluded. Return to the living world at once and apply yourself to debugging for the modern-day whelp. Good day."
Reversing his courteous manner by a hundred and eighty degrees, Priest Seto wrapped the conversation up carelessly and left the office at the speed of wind, leaving a dumbfounded Atem behind. The door shut without mercy.
"…That Seto. To cut a man's account of his first love off that carelessly. A cold-blooded man, as ever…"
Atem murmured it and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats.
But the depths of his chest immediately began to ache sweetly again with the memory of Seto's warmth the night before.
"Well, never mind. I shall get back quickly and go and tell Kaiba I'll do today's share of the debugging."
Without noticing in the least that he had just been sold off by the Underworld to Seto Kaiba of the living world, the happiest King in existence opened the door between dimensions in high spirits, towards the paradise where the man he loved was waiting.
"I'm back, Kaiba—"
His report in the Underworld concluded — or rather, carelessly curtailed by Priest Seto — Atem came back through the Interdimensional Elevator to the living world, and found himself in the familiar game room. Or rather, not.
"Eh…? Where is this…"
The dimensions of the room and the luxury of the fittings had both gone up several grades. Startled, he stepped out into the corridor, and found himself in the innermost part of Kaiba Manor. Seto Kaiba's private wing.
At the very moment Atem's permanent appointment as living-world NEET and spouse had been confirmed, Seto's hand had rebuilt the place at high speed so that Atem's private room was directly beside Seto's.
There was a newly purchased king-size bed in the room too, plush and enormous. But according to Mokuba, who showed him round, "That's the room for Atem to laze about in during the day. The master bedroom at night is Nii-sama's room, all right!"
Every attention had been provided for. Every escape route had been comprehensively sealed.
And then, the fated night.
Reversing entirely from the great panic of the afternoon, thanks to the cold air of the Underworld and Priest Seto's cold observations, Atem had recovered a strangely settled attitude: Heh. I am a King, after all. Now that I know the feeling is mutual, I shall not be thrown into disarray again.
Eleven o'clock. Steeling himself, Atem opened the door of Seto's room, the master bedroom.
Though his clothing was, as ever, the favourite grey sweats ordered through living-world mail order. He might have recovered a King's pride, but on the comfort of sweats, it seemed, he would not yield.
At the desk in the room, Seto was still facing his computer screen.
"Kaiba. The night is getting on."
"Hmph. You're back. I still have work to finish. Get into bed and sleep first."
Seto said it without taking his eyes from the screen.
"Understood," said Atem, nodding with complete composure, and slipped into the vast bed at the far end of the master bedroom. From the expensive sheets there already drifted the same scent of oud that Seto carried.
Lying on his back, Atem gazed at the ceiling.
For the first few minutes he listened comfortably to the sound of keys striking in the quiet room.
But as time went on, knowledge from the living world's romance magazines rose unbidden into Atem's mind.
Wait a moment… The room is dimly partitioned between the work space and the sleeping area, but at this moment, in this wide space, there is only myself and Kaiba… And in the magazine, on the page about the overnight-stay date, I am fairly certain it said—
[Staying the night = tacit consent to accept everything about the other person]
"C-consent…?!"
If it had been a few days ago, before he was aware of anything, that would have been one thing. But he now knew that the feeling was mutual. Sleeping in this bed together — in a living-world Duel, precisely how far a combo did that amount to permitting?
This is a problem… I have made my resolve to stand looking out at the world, but the resolve for this living-world "adult step" is not yet available in my card pool…!
The Atem who was supposed to have been so composed self-destructed in no time at all and began, alone in the covers, to fall into an enormous panic.
While Atem writhed under the blanket, thinking what do I do, what do I do, there came the click of the desk light going out.
His heart leapt.
Faint footsteps approached, and one side of the bed sank quietly. Seto, having showered beforehand, was getting in beside Atem in nightwear.
"K-Kaiba…!"
At his limit, the instant Seto's body heat came near, Atem produced a display of reflexive agility — whip! — and put the maximum possible distance between them, at the very edge of the bed.
From Seto's point of view, Atem had rolled all the way to the brink of the bed and curled up there like a wary cat.
Seto let out a deep sigh, reached an arm out in the dark and seized the waist of the Atem frozen at the edge.
"Oi, Atem. Escape to a place like that and all you will do is fall on the floor."
"Wah—?!"
By Seto's strength Atem's body was rotated, futilely — roll, roll — and returned, with no ceremony whatsoever, to its original position: the middle of the bed, directly beside Seto.
"You really are a man who cannot stay still. Shut your eyes and go to sleep."
So saying, Seto wrapped the retrieved body of Atem up from above, put a large arm around his waist and held him.
"E-erm, Kaiba…! About consent, that is, my mental preparation is—"
"Be quiet. A self-neglecting NEET's job is to sleep until one in the afternoon. Go to sleep, quietly."
The low tones resonating at point-blank range, and Seto's overwhelming heartbeat coming through from his back.
Red enough for flames to come out of his face, Atem found that in the end he could not resist that strength, or that comfortable warmth, by even a millimetre.
Comprehensively defeated by the combos of the living world's romance magazines, Atem's long and utterly sweet night went on, in the arms of the man he loved.
The king-size bed in the master bedroom.
Every night, each time Seto finished work and got in beside him, Atem went rigid in every muscle beneath the covers.
"…"
"…Atem."
In the dark, Seto's low voice came from the space beside him. Atem produced a pathetic "Y-yikes?!" and pulled the blanket up over his chin.
"You. Every single night, the moment I get in beside you, you take fright as though you were counting down the timer on a bomb. What is it. Is sleeping beside me so unsatisfactory?"
There was no chance of it being unsatisfactory. If anything he was so happy his heart was on the point of bursting.
But Seto, who could not work out the reason for this erratic behaviour, raised his upper body smoothly and looked into Atem's face. Pinned by those blue eyes, Atem became, comprehensively, a frog under the gaze of a snake.
"Speak, Atem. What is it you are afraid of."
"A-afraid? Certainly not…! I am a King. Whatever happens, I shall not be shaken…!"
"Oh? Whatever happens, is it. …Do not tell me you have been fantasising every night, with that undisciplined head of yours, about when the adult development is coming and what form it will take, and self-destructing on your own."
"H-how did you know that—?!"
Not merely hit on the mark: struck for a critical hit straight through the core, Atem leapt clean up off the bed in his agitation.
That his brain had been entirely occupied by the romance magazines' formula of staying the night = tacit consent, and that he had been lying in wait every night with his heart hammering — is tonight when that combo finally comes…?! — was exposed to Seto in a single stroke.
Seto let out a magnificent sigh, thoroughly exasperated.
"You are a man who… The application of three thousand years of wisdom in your case is comprehensively bugged."
Seto did not, however, go on teasing him.
He dropped the tone of his voice slightly, paid no attention whatsoever to the open front of his nightwear, and looked at Atem from point-blank range.
"…So. Which is it, Atem."
"Eh…?"
"Do you want me to do that to you."
What came out of Seto's mouth was astonishingly flat, and carried the temperature of a man with absolute composure: whenever you like. The man called Seto Kaiba was, in business as in anything else, a man who would take up any offer at any time provided his counterpart brought consent and resolve. On the matter of this so-called adult step, too, his stance was already one of readiness to move at any moment.
"…!"
Rather than flames coming out of his face, Atem felt as though every drop of blood in his body were about to boil.
If the question was do you want it or not, then now that he was aware of how much he loved Seto, the answer was already settled.
"…I do… want to. …But!"
Face still scarlet, Atem gripped the covers desperately.
"My mental preparation is not — not by one millimetre — ready…! If I plunge into a final phase of that kind with zero defence cards in my card pool, my soul will literally die of shock…!"
Eyes wet, Atem called for a halt with everything he had.
Seto looked at him in silence for a while, and then let out a "heh," pulled the corner of his mouth up — amused, and appallingly sweet.
"I see. I had not thought you quite that spineless, but… very well."
Seto lay back down and drew Atem's body once more towards his own firm chest.
"There is no compromise on my road, but I shall grant you enough grace to accompany a beginner through the tutorial. …Atem. Give me your hand."
"Eh? My hand…?"
Seto took Atem's slender wrist, enclosed it in his own large palm, and laced their fingers deeply together. What is generally known as a lovers' clasp.
"Kaiba, this is—"
"Every night, a little at a time. First we sleep holding hands. Once you are accustomed to that, the arm; after that — and so on. I shall accustom that slow body of yours to my hands."
A low, sweet pronouncement murmured at his ear.
"That way your heart will not die of shock. Will it."
"…That may — that may be so, but…"
Through their joined palms, Seto's hot body temperature came through by degrees. This alone was already keeping his heart entirely too busy, and to understand that he was to be tamed a little more each night filled Atem's brain with sweet panic all over again.
"Now then. Until your resolve is made, you may enjoy the terror of being shaken by me every night."
Seto gripped Atem's hand tightly, sounding satisfied, and closed his eyes.
An excessively overprotective and thoroughly sadistic tutorial in teasing, run by the King of the living world. Until Atem's resolve to accept everything as a true Consort was made, these supremely sweet nights, in which the distance closed a little at a time, showed no sign whatsoever of ending.
"…Kaiba, mm…"
Every night, on the king-size bed in the dim master bedroom, Atem's body received Seto's encroachment.
At first it had been no more than a lovers' clasp, fingers laced deep. But Seto Kaiba's habit of doing exactly what he says he will do, and his strategic handling of the reins, were thorough. The next night, the supple slender arm; the night after that, the shoulders stiff with tension. Seto's large hands — astonishingly hot, and astonishingly careful — went on pioneering Atem's skin a little more each night, and without fail.
And Atem, whose heart had been on the point of bursting at first, found himself at some point unable to resist the supreme comfort those hands brought.
"Th-that tickles, Kaiba… ah,"
Each time those large fingertips traced sensitive places on his back or his waist that he had not known about himself, small sweet sounds spilled out of Atem's mouth. And each time, Seto would give an amused snort and let that low voice resonate at Atem's ear.
"Hmph. Don't make noises at that level. We are still in the opening stages of the tutorial, Atem."
And the movement of those hands ceased to be confined to over the top of the grey sweats.
Seto's slightly knotted fingertips slid in from the hem of the shirt and touched the smooth skin of Atem's flank directly.
"Ah…! S-so hot…"
"Your body temperature is simply too low."
Being touched directly was vivid beyond any comparison with being touched through sweats. Each time Seto's fingertips crawled gently over him Atem's body jumped in small movements, and the fingers gripping the sheets tightened.
There was, by now, almost nowhere left that had not been touched.
Atem's boundary line was made to melt a little more each night by Seto's heat, and by the time he noticed, he had been driven to a state in which not one defence card remained in his card pool.
And then, that night.
Held from behind as always and settled inside Seto's chest, Atem caught his breath in an instant at the movement of the palm that slid down to the region of his hips.
Seto's long fingertips had pushed down the elastic of the sweatpants — quietly, and without one particle of hesitation.
"K-Kaiba…! Not — not there…"
Atem tried in a panic to turn round, but Seto's other arm held him gently in place.
And so Seto's hand invaded completely beneath the sweatpants and touched, directly, the most defenceless and most heated part of him.
"…Ah…!"
At the shock of being taken there directly for the first time, a shivering current ran up Atem's spine.
Seto's large hand enclosed him as though cherishing him, with a caress of absolute certainty, and began slowly to move.
"Mm, ah… ah, Kai— ba…"
Inside the fabric of the sweats, the heat of Seto's palm and the pleasure thrusting up from within him mixed together without mercy. It was so good, and the stimulation so strong, that tears spilled naturally from Atem's deep red eyes, and all he could do was stare at the sheets through the blur.
"Your resolve is sufficient by now, surely, Atem."
At his ear, Seto's hot breath whispered it, slightly hoarse.
At that low murmur, and at the caress of Seto's hot palm reaching the innermost part of him, Atem's thoughts went entirely white in an instant.
Resolve…? My… resolve…?
The resolve to stand level with him and look out at the world had been settled that night, long since. But the weight of the resolve being presented to him by Seto in this moment far transcended anything the living world's romance magazines contained: it was a final pronouncement, too sweet and too fierce, for the melting together of the whole of each other's souls.
Under that overwhelming volume of information and the mass of Seto pressing in from behind, Atem's brain cells fell into panic again and came close to shorting out.
But Seto's merciless fingertips did not permit Atem to escape into the labyrinth of his own thoughts.
"Mm, ah…! Kaiba…! Wai—!"
Beneath the trousers, the caress was repeated without mercy and with terrible care. Each time his skin was stroked up directly, a sweet shudder ran through Atem's spine, and, entirely regardless of the panic in his brain, his body was dragged forcibly back into reality by pure pleasure alone.
From the place being touched, a hot pulse came surging up in waves.
Wrapped in Seto's scent of oud and in the hot breath resonating at his ear, Atem's pleasure exceeded its capacity in no time at all.
"Ah… ah, ah…!"
Atem's body jumped, hard.
Inside Seto's large palm, Atem reached, strengthlessly, the first sweet and violent peak of his life.
Pleasure at its limit, the tension that had gone before it, and the mental detonation of I have finally come this far. All of it arrived at once, and at the same moment as he reached it, Atem's field of vision faded out sharply. Death of the soul by shock, precisely as advertised. That is, fainting.
"Ha… ah…"
A faint breath escaped him last of all, and every trace of strength went out of Atem's body.
The fingertips gripping the sheets came loose and slipped away.
"…Atem?"
Holding him from behind, Seto noticed that Atem had suddenly gone limp and heavy, and looked into his face.
What was there was Atem with tears faintly welling, his face flushed as red as it was possible for it to be, breathing in a regular, peaceful rhythm as though his soul had gone out of him.
Against all expectation: dead asleep at the exact moment of the finish.
"You are a man who… At the very last, precisely how spineless a game are you intending to play?"
Even Seto Kaiba, at this, went past exasperation altogether and could only give a wry laugh into the darkness. Who could possibly believe that a legendary Duelist who had shaken the world would fall asleep as though dying of shock from the caress of a hand alone.
Seto wiped the remaining heat off his own hand and off Atem's sweats efficiently, with tissues from the side table.
Then he laid the limp, curled-up body of Atem on its back, and pulled the disarranged trousers and the blanket properly back up to his throat.
"No matter… I shall record this one as a draw. …But I will not let you off so easily on the next turn."
Seto brushed the hair gently from the forehead of the sleeping Atem and turned on that profile a look that was fearless, and beyond anything else, full of love.
How Atem would recall, in the morning — probably past noon again — that he had fainted in Seto's arms; how thoroughly he would writhe in agony under the covers; and how he would once again pour out his complaints to Seto in the Underworld through a wall.
Looking forward to his beloved freeloader's next spin of the wheels, the King of the living world drew that small and lovely body back into his arms, and this time closed his eyes for good.
"…Mm…"
Soft sunlight came into the master bedroom through a gap in the blackout curtains.
Atem's consciousness surfaced sluggishly, and when he turned his eyes to the digital clock at the bedside the time was, as ever, 13:15. A reliably spectacular lie-in.
Naturally, there was no sign of Seto beside him. One side of the bed was neatly made, indicating that he had risen hours ago and gone off to the business of being president.
Head still heavy, Atem started to roll over—
"—?!"
From his spine down to his hips, a peculiar languor, and last night's remaining heat, came back to him with total clarity.
Beneath the sweatpants, enclosed in Seto's large hand, that violent pleasure tasted for the first time in his life. And his own disgraceful conduct — fainting at the moment he reached it, from sheer shock — enough to shatter a King's pride into powder.
"I — what a graceless way to lose…!"
Atem buried his face in the sheets and thrashed about in the bed, scarlet.
From then on: while eating the special omurice at lunch, and while being glanced at coldly in the Underworld by Seto — "My King, a splendid boil on you again today" — Atem's head was occupied entirely by the memory of last night's pleasure. Without feeling remotely alive, he somehow got to the end of the day, and the fated night came round again.
Eleven o'clock. The Seto who got into the master bedroom bed that night was a man far more merciless than Atem had anticipated.
"K-Kaiba…! Wait — about myself last night, I—"
"I will hear no excuses, Atem. If you intend to keep your beginner's plate on indefinitely, then I shall simply advance along my road."
Seto gave a fearless snort, and tonight raised the going easy phase by one full grade.
The sweatpants were drawn down without mercy, and Seto's hand invaded once more between Atem's thighs. Tonight, however, the object was not to attend to the front. Seto's slightly cool fingertips traced, gently, the entrance to the most inward part of him, wetting it with the heat of the caress.
"…Ah, Kaiba…? Not there—"
"Let go of the tension. The more your body stiffens, the more it will hurt you."
One of Seto's long fingers slipped quietly inside him.
"Ah— aah?!"
At the sensation of something foreign, and at the unknown feeling of being spread open directly from within, Atem gripped the sheets hard, his eyes swimming.
Given the structure of the human body, an act between two men could not possibly be accomplished from a standing start. With his overwhelming rationalism and his fathomless possessiveness towards Atem, Seto had chosen a slow encroachment: a little more each night, widening that body to my own dimensions.
"Mm, nn… Kai— ba… don't move it…"
"Don't lie. Being stroked here is comfortable, is it not."
Seto's finger traced the wall of a particular narrow place inside him, gently but unfailingly stimulating the point of pleasure.
"Ah, ah…! Nn…!"
Every night Atem raised his voice, trembled, wept, and was tossed about on Seto's fingers like a beginner facing his first Duel. Reactions that never once became accustomed, and never lost their newness. And each time, Seto's fingers grew a little more, and unfailingly, familiar with the depths of him.
And then, several days after those nights of what could fairly be called training had begun.
Seto's fingers had increased to two, and were stirring hotly, deeply and persistently inside Atem.
The front was not being touched at all. Only the most sensitive place within, stroked deeply, over and over, persistently — and at that moment—
"Ah, so hot…! Kaiba, that — no…! Ah—!"
Atem's back arched up like a bow.
In the next instant, though nothing at the front had been touched, hot fluid spilled from him in a rush across the sheets.
He had reached it from being opened inside alone.
"Ha, ah… ha, ah…"
Atem's shoulders rose and fell violently, and through the blur of tears he was frightened by the throbbing pulse inside him.
Pleasure violent enough to bring him there without being touched at the front. It was too violent, and it carried a small fear with it — as though his own body were being rewritten wholesale into Seto's.
But Seto, holding Atem in his arms and feeling that peak from within directly through his fingertips, let out a deep and satisfied breath in the darkness.
"…Hmph. Well done, Atem."
For Seto, this was not simply the imposition of pleasure in appalling taste.
That Atem had reached it from inside alone was nothing other than a sign that his body had prepared itself perfectly to accept Seto.
At this rate, when the real thing came in the near future, it would not be a one-sided act in which Atem merely endured pain. As a matter of Seto Kaiba's pride, and as a matter of one man's love, a way of taking his rival that only wounded him was absolutely unacceptable. This was the final confirmation that the two of them would devour the highest pleasure together, as equals.
"I— I wasn't touched at the front… and something strange—"
Seto drew Atem's frightened tears up gently with his lips.
"Don't be afraid, Atem. All of it is according to calculation. …Tomorrow night, be prepared."
A declaration, murmured at his ear, of the transition to the final phase.
With fear, and with a sweet anticipation that far surpassed it, choking his chest, Atem fell asleep again tonight in the arms of the King of the living world, his head thoroughly melted.
The next morning, Atem woke, as usual, past noon.
The hot, languid sensation remaining deep in his body — of having reached it without the front being touched — conveyed with total vividness that the previous night had not been a dream.
Kaiba said it… Tomorrow night, be prepared. Which means that tonight, at last, the final phase — the real thing — is coming…!
In a state of tension comparable to facing the Duel of a lifetime, Atem crawled out of bed and dived into the heap of romance magazines stacked in his room, and the pile of adult step-up books he had bought up online. To do at least a little revision on tonight's developments, and to work out a King's defensive measures.
But the contents of the practical section written there were, for a beginner like Atem, altogether too strong.
The process of insertion, positions, methods for relieving pain, and above all the vividly specific mechanics of the act called joining two bodies together to their limits—
"Wh-what is this…! Do the people of the living world really perform something this indecent and this terrifying without turning a hair…?!"
With every page he turned Atem's face went red, and at the same time pale with fear. The more he learned, the more his dread of the unknown shock awaiting him that night swelled.
And then, pitilessly, eleven o'clock at night arrived.
When Seto finished work and opened the master bedroom door, Atem was on the bed gripping the collar of his grey sweats tight, frozen stiff as a condemned man awaiting execution.
"Hmph, that is a very solemn expression, Atem. Did your revision bear fruit?"
Seto had presumably noticed the heap of magazines lying about in Atem's room; he pulled the corner of his mouth up nastily.
"K-Kaiba…! I, as a King, have no intention of retreating from any battle — but the structure of the living world's, ah, final phase, is it not somewhat… excessively violent…?!"
"Ridiculous. There you go again, self-destructing with that clever little head of yours."
Seto changed into nightwear, got into bed, and drew the escaping Atem's hips towards him without hesitation.
"Y-yikes…!"
"I told you to let go of the tension. Every trace of your fear, I shall paint over."
Seto's large, hot hand slid in from the hem of Atem's sweats and moved in a flowing line from his flank to his back, and then to the narrow place at his hips that had been thoroughly opened over the past several days.
Before that merciless, and astonishingly sweet and gentle, caress, the makeshift wall of defence Atem had constructed by reading magazines collapsed in a matter of minutes.
"Mm, ah… Kai— ba… ah…"
Caressed over and over, precisely and teasingly, at his sensitive places, the tension came out of Atem's body by degrees. In place of fear, what came surging up from inside him was that hot, rising pleasure obtainable from Seto's hands alone.
Watching Atem's breathing gradually roughen and those deep red eyes blur with hot tears, Seto murmured, low: "Good."
Seto removed the sweatpants entirely, opened those slender, supple legs to either side, and set his own body between them.
Faced with his own innermost part completely opened, Atem's heart leapt as though it had been given the finishing blow.
And then, the moment Seto took a condom from the side table and put it on with a small dry rustle.
"—?!"
Catching sight, at close range, of the whole of Seto's now-prepared self, Atem's eyes went wide enough for his jaw to come loose, at a mass so far outside all standard measures.
Several days of being widened little by little with fingers notwithstanding, the size of that and the size of this were fundamentally too different. Before that overwhelming presence — a mass of direct-attack class — suited to Seto Kaiba's height and powerful build, Atem was thrown into total, instinctive terror.
"W-wait…! Wait, Kaiba! That will not — under any circumstances — go in…! The calculations for the structure of my body absolutely do not work…!"
Atem tried in a great hurry to crawl away, but Seto caught that slim ankle in one hand, snorted, and hauled him back beneath him.
"Be quiet, Atem. Where our corporation's technology and my own technique are concerned, there is not one chance in ten thousand of a calculation error. How badly your body wants my size… I shall teach that body right now."
The eyes of the King of the living world, laden with an overwhelming will to dominate, pierced Atem through.
Atem screwed his eyes shut, gripped the sheets through his tears hard enough to tear them, and shivered sweetly through his whole body at the countdown to the unknown territory now finally arriving.
However.
"W-wait after all…! That really is—!"
Atem was a very poor loser about it.
Hauled back to the middle of the bed, panicking with wet eyes, Atem was looked down at by Seto, who let out a breath. That his rival should still, at this stage, be so unwilling to accept it and so frightened, like some small animal, was unbearably dear to him.
"Hmph… If you are that terrified, I shall grant you a little mercy."
Rather than forcing anything forward at once, Seto first stroked and rubbed Atem's thigh gently with his own hot palm. Then he slid his fingers once more into the narrow place.
"Ah… nn, ah…!"
Atem's body, accustomed over several days to Seto's dimensions, returned an astonishingly honest response the moment it accepted Seto's fingers, entirely at odds with his fear. It tightened around them, achingly, drew them further in, and at the front began of its own accord to run hot.
"Well, Atem. Your mouth may refuse, but your body is already crying out for me."
"Th-that is…! Nn, ah… ah…"
Each time he was stroked persistently inside, the fear in Atem's brain was rewritten into pleasure at visible speed. His hips lifted naturally, seeking deeper, seeking stronger, and Atem himself began to cling to Seto's fingers.
Confirming that Atem's breathing had turned entirely hot and melted, Seto slowly drew his fingers out.
"…Resign yourself. From here it is the real thing."
"Ah—!"
Before Atem could catch his breath, Seto's formidable mass was pressed straight against his entrance.
And then, slowly, with a fierce sense of pressure, an unknown mass invaded inside him.
"Nn, ah…?! Ah, it hurts — no, too thi—! Kaiba, wait, I can't breathe—!"
A hardness and thickness fundamentally different from fingers. Overwhelmed entirely by that presence, Atem gripped the sheets through his tears hard enough to tear them. Seto held Atem's hips firmly and advanced deeper, slowly and carefully, a few millimetres at a time, at a torturous rate, so as not to injure his body.
"Ha— ha— …K-Kaiba…"
After a while the fierce pressure eased somehow, and Atem let out a great breath. The pain receded, and his body had at last begun to accustom itself to this size. Atem wiped his tears and looked up at Seto with something like pride.
"…Heh. Well, Kaiba? I am as expected, am I not. Even at that unreasonable size of yours, I endured it through to the—"
"Hmph. What are you looking so satisfied about, Atem."
Seto brushed aside his sweat-damp fringe and produced a smile that was nasty, and utterly ferocious.
"—Only half of it is in."
"Eh…? Eeee—?!" (A scream that did not become sound.)
At a despairing fact that far exceeded the diagrams in the magazines, Atem's eyes went round in fresh terror. This is half?! What on earth is the extent of Seto Kaiba's potential, he wondered, and genuinely began to doubt the laws of the world.
"Now be still, and accept the whole of me…!"
Seto pushed one of Atem's legs higher still and drove the remaining mass all the way to the innermost part of him in one stroke, without mercy, and as deeply as it was possible to go.
"Ah— aaaaaaaah—!"
A high scream came out of Atem's mouth of a kind he had never heard from himself. Every wall inside him was forced open, entirely, into Seto's shape. At the instant the tip of Seto struck hard against the softest place at the very deepest point, Atem shook violently at the sheer shock of it and bit down desperately on Seto's shoulder.
Joined completely to the base, the boundary line between them vanished entirely.
Stroking Atem's back with his large hand, Seto waited, without moving, for that ragged breathing to steady, a little and then a little more.
"Ha— ha— …K-Kai—"
The pain turned, gradually and by degrees, into heat.
The depths of his body were still filled to the point of bursting, but strangely, it was no longer painful. If anything, Seto's firm chest, that powerful heartbeat, the warmth of the large arms holding him — all of it filled Atem's heart with a happiness beyond anything.
Ah… right now, I really am one with Kaiba…
This slapstick drama in the living world, begun from motives of the most impure kind. And yet what was in Atem's chest now was an overwhelming joy and relief at having become, literally, one body with the man he loved.
At last, Atem let every trace of strength go out of him.
He looked straight up at Seto with deep red eyes wet with tears, and put both arms gently around his neck.
"…Kaiba. It's all right now… Do as you like with me…"
For the first time, Atem entrusted every scrap of the initiative to Seto, and smiled.
At that defenceless figure — a King's pride offered up entire to the man he loved — the thread of Seto's own restraint became distinctly unreliable.
"…Hmph. It is too late for regrets now, Atem!"
Seto took a fresh grip on Atem's slender hips and at last, with a passion close to madness, began to drive that formidable mass violently into him.
In the master bedroom at dead of night, the sound of sheets shifting and Atem's melted, sweet cries rang out again and again, until the sky grew light.
At the end of that fierce joining, Seto thrust deep and delicately, over and over, as though to carve Atem's reactions into his own body.
"Ah…! Kaiba — it's coming, it's coming—!"
"Atem—!"
Seto supported Atem's slender hips, cutting off any escape, and struck precisely at the place where Atem felt the most pleasure. There was no need for any of the inorganic manuals written in magazines. Seto read Atem's heartbeat, his breathing, the heat of his skin, all of it, and guided him unerringly to the peak.
At the last, Atem arched his whole body back in Seto's arms, calling Seto's name, and was swallowed by a wave of pleasure with his eyes entirely melted. Seto, too, unable to resist that hot tightening, reached the heights together with him, holding Atem close.
Atem breathed roughly, over and over, and buried his face in Seto's chest in a daze. Seto stroked his back as though cherishing that body, and presently, with visible reluctance, separated them slowly.
"…Did I overdo it?"
"…No. …It was the best…"
At that murmur, delivered in a small voice, Seto lifted Atem sideways in his arms and carried him to the bathroom. Under a warm shower, he washed every corner of that disordered body with care. Seto's fingers, entirely changed from a moment before, moved with the utmost gentleness, as though tending to Atem's skin.
Once the sheets had been changed and a clean shirt put on him, Atem burrowed into Seto's large arms. Last night's tension had vanished as though it had never existed, and in the security of being wrapped in Seto's warmth, Atem fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning.
In the soft light coming through the curtains, Atem lay drowsing, thinking vaguely back over the night before.
…Kaiba, last night…
He glanced sideways at that magazine of terror lying in the corner of the bedroom. Listed there, among the mistakes beginners are prone to, were any number of appalling words: bleeding on insertion, abdominal pain, and even unexpected pregnancy resulting from complications — living-world knowledge.
The more he read it back, the more vivid and frightening the content remained. However—
Kaiba never once hurt me.
Despite a size that enormous, he had patiently opened him with his fingers, over and over, until he could let the tension go. He had not begrudged the trouble of the condom, and had gone on gauging, with those keen eyes, whether Atem's breathing was labouring, whether anything hurt.
It could fairly be said to have been the polar opposite of the forceful act that only causes pain described in the magazine. That had not been domination. It had been consideration.
Atem quietly looked in at the sleeping face of Seto, resting peacefully beside him.
…It occurs to me that Seto Kaiba may be an outrageously good man.
Strong-willed, arrogant, thinking of nothing but pushing him around — that was what he had assumed. And yet this man knew perfectly how to cherish him, and how to protect him.
"…Fufu."
A little embarrassed by the conclusion he had arrived at, Atem smiled slightly.
Having noticed the hidden kindness and the great capacity of a man he had believed to be a cold-blooded rival, the special feeling in Atem's heart for Seto was beginning to change into something deeper and warmer.
What shall I say to him when he wakes.
Thinking about that, Atem laid his cheek against Seto's chest once more and gave himself up to a happy second sleep.
It was nearing two in the afternoon when Atem surfaced from that drowse again.
Last night's afterglow remained vividly all over him. His body was heavy as lead and his joints creaked with a sweet languor, but it was not by any means an unpleasant pain. If anything it felt like proof of having become completely one with Seto, and Atem let out deep breaths inside the sheets, over and over.
…Kaiba is my lover…
When he happened to recall last night's conclusion, heat ran through his whole body and he rolled about in the bed, face scarlet in spite of himself. He pressed his face into the pillow and thrashed his legs about in agony. His face was hot in a way even he found unbelievably obvious.
"…Ngh. This is idiotic. That a King should be reduced to this merely by thinking about his lover…"
Muttering at the wall to cover his embarrassment, Atem spent the early afternoon idling to his heart's content. When he was thirsty he drank water; when he grew bored he buried his face again in the pillow that had taken on Seto's scent. Supreme, indolent time, undisturbed by anyone.
Evening came, and Seto returned from work.
He must have registered Atem's colour and the traces of the previous night's fierce activity in an instant. Coming into the bedroom, Seto drew Atem to him, dropped a light kiss on his forehead, and then made no further demand of any kind — only went on stroking his back gently.
"…Don't push yourself today. You were considerably worn out last night."
"Kaiba…"
He was not forcing any demand; he was simply enfolding him in warm arms. Touched by that delicate kindness, different again from the night before, Atem felt a love strong enough to squeeze his chest.
"…You really are indulgent with me."
"Hmph. There is no point in breaking you."
There was a thorn in the words as ever, but the hands were astonishingly careful. Atem rested his head on Seto's broad shoulder, listened to his heartbeat in place of a lullaby, and was drawn again tonight, in those arms, towards a peaceful sleep.
Ah — this man really is, hopelessly, a good man.
Atem let out a sigh of complete and settled relief, gave himself up to Seto's warmth without resisting, and disappeared again into a calm dream. Their quiet night was far softer, and far more filled, than the night before.
