Atem says she is happy, and means the kind of happiness where nothing is happening.
Seto sees something in her face he has been waiting a year and a half for, and names a time. In between, alone at the top of his own building, he thinks about what he was taught as a child and decides none of it will be used here.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 14 ここで
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
Then again, he was out somewhere almost every day for school or work, so unless the little friends came the mansion was as quiet as ever.
That they slept together, as lovers, in that sense, was because he had seen a little desire in Atem.
The end of summer, with the lingering heat still fierce.
Atem was passing calm hours with Seto, as always.
Before he left for work. Seto sat on the sofa going through a report.
Beside him, Atem, who had climbed onto the sofa and was leaning against his back, said:
"It's peaceful..."
"What is it."
"I was thinking how calm this is. How happy."
Nothing happening is happiness, Atem said.
Happiness with nothing in it. So she had come to understand that.
An Atem who, as royalty and as king, could never have had a moment's rest had come to feel it in these hours where nothing happened. That was for all the world human, and to Seto it was the most welcome change there could be.
Working at a puzzle ring, she leaned further into him. Warm. It was a comfortable stretch of time.
He closed the documents he'd been reading for the moment. Reading and judging could come later. Seto's processing speed was fast.
"What about you?"
He picked up a piece that had already been solved off and dropped onto the table. One by one, he fitted them back together.
She was very happy. How was she to say it?
"Indeed."
"Wasn't there some other way to put that?"
"My vocabulary vanished."
"Yours? That's a rare event."
"What do you take me for?"
"Someone words come out of readily."
"I understand it wasn't meant kindly."
Caught out, she said, laughing.
He took the mouth that was making light of him, kissed her longer than usual as though admonishing her, and probed a little deeper.
Atem's eyes went round for an instant in surprise, but once she understood it was sweet, she slowly closed them.
The strength going out of her body, thoughts blurring, a comfort like floating.
"Mm... hah. It's — hard to breathe."
Saying it was hard to breathe, Atem thought more at the lips drawing away.
More. More of what.
"Something's strange with me. My head's fogged. I don't really know."
"That's how it is."
At the low voice she should have been used to, the depths of her stomach seemed to tighten.
Atem looked up at Seto.
The waver in her eyes, the flush of her cheeks, the speed of her breathing. Slight gestures told the story. Whether Atem was aware of it or not, what was there was certain.
This was desire.
Seto's surprise showed itself as a blink.
Seto rarely blinked and tended to look steadily; it was extremely unusual. Atem made a puzzled face.
"Seto? What's wrong?"
"...The rest tonight. Here."
"Th— the, the rest — that's, that is."
"I won't force anything."
Seto murmured it at her ear.
"But, tonight..."
"Now would do? As far as I'm concerned I don't mind taking you this instant—"
"Nn— no, that's—"
Atem stopped him in a fluster, but her cheeks were red and her eyes were wet.
"You need this preparation of the heart, don't you."
"Tomorrow, maybe."
"Isn't it you who can't wait that long?"
Seto's fingertips traced her throat as though tickling it. She shivered in spite of herself.
Tonight, the rest. To put it in modern terms, they would sleep together.
She knew what was done, having been taught three thousand years ago. And because she knew, the waiting was embarrassing.
With a man's body she knew how to put out the heat as well. But this body she didn't understand. She had never known heat that entered her like this, spreading through her whole body.
I want him. I want the man in front of me, her body cried. Was this a woman's instinct?
"I can't — wait."
"That's fine."
Seto was murmuring, and yet his voice seemed to resonate more than usual.
He had made a promise with Atem for tonight. Tonight he would take her.
Seto was looking down at Domino from the top floor of the head office.
Human resources are resources. That was KaibaCorp's predecessor.
That education for a successor was given the name of education, but abuse was the correct word.
Negotiation. Knowledge as the accomplishment of a man of power. The doctrine that people are weakest to their own desires.
How to handle someone in order to dominate them, and what to give them in order to make them obey — all of it hammered in.
Practicals, so called: seducing a partner regardless of sex, or receiving seduction without losing control. Cold education that made you experience it in fact, so that you would learn to handle it with the feeling cut away.
Seto had understood it solely as knowledge for surviving, and had cleared it with his heart shut completely. Feeling neither pleasure nor affection, he had learned it while discarding it as mere procedure.
And that knowledge, instilled in order to be used, had in fact been unnecessary, and he had discarded it.
A hateful past he didn't ordinarily so much as recall; one to be trodden underfoot.
He would not drag Atem into that past. He would not handle her; he would touch her with his heart.
Half a day more. That warm body would be thinking of the night and storing up heat. He didn't break promises. He had always dealt with her that way.
Gently, without wounding her, only wrapping her in sweetness. What escape there was extended no further than these arms.
His mouth curved up unconsciously. Caught. Not letting go.
At the same time he knew that the one who had been captivated and caught was himself as well.
He closed his eyes and opened them slowly, and there was the usual face of Seto Kaiba. The things that had to be dealt with were always piled high.
Atem showered and put on thin pyjamas as usual.
She didn't know what was correct to wear. Of course that was because she'd never been taught what a woman should do.
Seto wasn't home yet, but she went into the empty room.
Here.
The memory of the afternoon came back and her whole body flushed again. No — that was wrong. This had gone on smouldering all day and had never gone out. She hadn't remembered it; she had been thinking it.
Where should she be? Given what they were going to do, the bedroom — but that felt far too obvious in its own way, and she hesitated over it.
She wandered back and forth inside the room and settled in the bedroom after all. If she fell asleep here as she always did, would this heat go out too?
After a while someone came in, and she knew Seto was home. Without meaning to, her body tensed.
"Atem, you're here."
The footsteps came straight toward the bedroom. How had he known?
Seto always found Atem.
"Atem."
"Wel— welcome back."
"I'm home."
Seto looked at Atem gently, taking in the state of her.
Atem appeared to have made her preparations dutifully. She must have resolved herself.
"I'll take a shower. If you're afraid, you can run while I do."
As if I could run. I've been caught for ages. Atem thought it.
"I'm not afraid."
Staying like this was more frightening.
"I see."
Seto ruffled her hair as always and went.
When he came back, that would happen. She could still run, now.
But Seto had surely been waiting.
A man's body, and the feelings that went with it, Atem understood. And it wasn't that she hadn't wanted to be touched.
The truth was that I'm not afraid was a lie. He'd probably seen through that as well; psychological warfare was a strong suit for both of them.
If he touched her even so, it meant it was all right.
He was an outrageous man, but he never did anything impossible. She had never had anything forced on her. Not once. So this too was by consent, and no more or less than something Atem had wished for.
She had wished for it herself.
Thinking as far as that, not only her face but the inside of her head went hot. Nothing good could come of thinking about this alone.
She could hear water. What was Seto thinking about while he showered?
After a while, Seto came back from the bathroom.
Straight to Atem without hesitating. Unlike the Atem who had wandered about, there was no wavering in him at all. He sat down on the bed just as he was. The distance was very close. Perhaps because he'd been showering a moment ago, she felt his body heat more than usual.
"Indirect lighting."
The lights went down, and the two of them were alone in the bedroom.
Atem was tense enough to wonder whether he could hear her heartbeat.
Seto took Atem into his arms and fell onto the bed together with her. She was rigid in his arms, but Atem's body was certainly hot. Her body told Seto that it had been waiting.
Seto undid the buttons of her pyjamas one by one.
"Wait. That's — so sudden."
"Your preparation of the heart?"
"I did it."
"Then there's no problem."
Wrong. Since he'd come home, they hadn't even kissed once.
Her body was covered completely; there was no escaping.
"Seto."
Lips came down as though that alone conveyed her meaning.
Kissed deeply out of nowhere, the heat spread through her at once. She'd been waiting all day.
His warm tongue moved through her mouth — the tip of it, the roof, the backs of her teeth. Deeper than the morning's.
Atem paid no attention to the saliva spilling over and chased his tongue, desperate.
"Mm — mm, hm—"
She didn't know where it was coming from, but something was aching, quietly and persistently.
Seto looked into her eyes. They were hazy, bright with tears.
"We've only just begun."
"Then — you take something off too. That's not fair."
"All right."
He pulled his shirt off — a broad, solid body, offered without hesitation. Several old scars, here and there.
She knew something of his past. But she didn't resent those marks, or mourn them. They were the proof of how he had become who he was.
"The thin clothes aren't bad, on a night like this."
"You should have said so. I wouldn't have put pyjamas on. I did think about it."
"I'm joking."
"Don't joke at a time like this."
Laughter, warm against her neck.
"I thought it might help with the nerves."
She complained that he shouldn't talk right against her ear — and her ear was bitten for the trouble.
The heat of his mouth, his tongue, the soft sounds — all of it seemed to reverberate inside her head. Atem squeezed her eyes shut and held on.
"Don't hold on. Make a sound. It'll be easier."
"A sound?"
"You'll wear yourself out, keeping your eyes and mouth that tight."
He lay down beside her and laughed.
With the familiar distance restored, some of her composure came back.
"I'll be fine. Probably."
"Probably. Interesting — you're wearing underclothes tonight."
"I didn't know what to put on."
She didn't usually wear anything to sleep in. That was something Seto had occasionally found difficult to know where to look.
"Shall I take these off as well?"
"You don't have to — wait. No. I'm ready."
Her small breasts, bared to the air. Her body was slight — probably not much to hold. She had sometimes wondered if that was why he hadn't touched her. But that wasn't it, she thought. Seto was always waiting for Atem.
His hands moved across her, exploring — shoulder, neck, chest, stomach, waist, thighs. With that reach, nowhere was out of range.
His face pressed to her chest, the softness taken gently between his lips. Touched so lightly she couldn't tell if it was stroking or kneading. When his fingertip grazed the peak, her head went numb. He followed with his tongue, and a sound slipped out before she could stop it.
"Ah—"
Both at once — tongue on one side, fingers on the other — and her body gave a sudden jolt.
His lips moved to her stomach, her side, sweet bites along the way. Her breathing came apart.
She arched back involuntarily, and her throat was caught between his teeth. Not painful — held gently, his tongue moving against it. The sensation of being consumed, from every angle. The heat rose.
And still he found places he hadn't touched, and consumed those too.
"Mm — Seto—"
The hands that had wandered everywhere moved across her stomach, downward.
"There — that's—"
She tried to close her legs, to hide — but the strength had gone out of them, and they barely moved.
His fingertip traced the crease, and the feeling returned — that tightening, deep in her core.
By his sense of it, she was beginning to be wet, though not yet to overflowing.
"Shall I use this?"
He produced a small bottle.
She understood what it was for. Three thousand years ago, she had been educated on such things. But she didn't want it. This was a woman's body. This body could take him — she was certain of it.
"No. I don't want that."
"But—"
"I don't want it. Still no."
He hadn't expected resistance here. Of all the things she might have held firm on.
And then she said something to the effect of wanting to receive only him.
If this unconscious, oblivious sincerity was trying to break his reason — she was succeeding. His own temperature rose.
"If there's any pain, tell me immediately."
"Pain is fine."
"Atem. Pain isn't something you need."
Those elegant fingers were touching her there. Just the thought of it made anticipation and something like fear riot in her chest.
The slow, gentle movement of his fingertip, and then carefully, carefully, a single finger pressed in.
"Does it hurt?"
"...No."
She couldn't tell if it hurt or not. There was a sense of something foreign. But not pain.
"You'll adjust quickly."
"Mm—"
He covered her in kisses, returning to her lips now and then — and she chased them, desperate not to let go.
The inserted finger pressed gradually deeper. Each slow withdrawal and return brought more sound from her body, and the heat built in her head. She wanted to cover her ears from the sound of it, but her hands wouldn't leave the sheets.
"Deep — mm, hah—"
"I may be able to reach the deepest part. My fingers are long."
All the way. The place deep in her core that had been pulling tight since morning.
His fingers worked carefully — opening, deepening, adding another, pressing from inside, searching. He moved with precision and attention, watching her face, finding where it seemed to matter and touching nearby to broaden the sensation.
"Uh — no—"
"Let it all in."
His fingers — those neat, precise fingers that handled cards — were inside her. Thinking that made her breathing catch entirely, and she could only let herself be moved.
She wasn't conscious of it, but the faint transgression of it was part of what was pulling her deeper.
Something climbing from her back, from her core.
"No — stop — I can't — something's—"
"You're all right. Don't be afraid."
By the time she voiced it, her body had been opened and readied.
She was catching her breath when she heard movement — and understood that he was undressing.
It was really going to happen, she thought. Her heart was going so fast she couldn't look at him.
And yet she looked anyway, drawn by the need to see — and saw him putting on a condom.
She knew what that meant. She had been a man, after all. That's enormous. Like Obelisk. This body might be built to receive him — but.
She stared, involuntarily caught his eye.
"That won't — it won't fit."
"Then we leave it for another time. There's no need to rush."
Seto was gentle. She knew she couldn't stop now. And she had already decided.
"...I'm all right. Come."
His fingertip confirmed the entrance once more, and the tip pressed against her.
"You're so tense I can't get in."
He kissed her as he said it, laughing slightly. A sweet, heavy kiss that made her feel she might melt into it.
While Atem was lost in the kiss, Seto began to enter.
The tension didn't help — her body was new to this, and the fit was tight. There was likely some pain. But Seto moved slowly, steadily forward.
"Ugh—"
"Look at me."
"No—"
"That's a shame."
He kissed her lips, her cheek, the bridge of her nose — and the hands that had been covering her face came away on their own. He reached her eyelid, her forehead — and she was wearing the expression of someone enduring something.
He pressed his face to her neck and breathed her in. Her scent — strongly, irresistibly drawing to him. Sweet. Like a flower opening.
He bit softly, licked upward — and she squirmed at the tickle. He moved to her chest, just above the collar where clothes would hide it, and left a single mark. Let her find it in the bathroom later.
He could have left them everywhere, every part of her — but that was for another time.
For today, he had set the difficulty low, adjusting to Atem. There was a battle with reason, but he was not going to go at full force. This was not a game.
From the entrance to roughly halfway — moving several times to let her adjust — something seemed to loosen, and gradually, sweet sounds began to slip through.
As expected, Atem's resistance only held to a certain point. Beyond it, she was different.
"Ah — mm — Seto. Seto— ah—"
The sweet sounds that meant she was feeling it.
Being called by name pushed his own heat higher. He had been on the receiving end of that all day.
"Can I go deeper?"
"There's more — further in?"
"About halfway, I'd say."
Atem had struggled at first, but her adaptability was high. She was learning how to release the tension.
She had decided to take him in completely — with all of herself.
"...Come."
He exhaled, caught her hips, and moved forward — a single, unbroken motion, but slowly, carefully, not to hurt.
"Ah — wait — mm — hah — ah!"
She let out a long breath and a sound that wasn't quite a cry, something between them.
Those crimson eyes, half-open, hazed with desire — beautiful.
The shock of reaching the deepest point had left her trembling slightly. He waited for that to settle, gave a brief pause, and then began to move, gently, in a slow rhythm.
Moving — the entrance was tight, but inside, her body pulled him deeper.
There were no words for this moment.
"Atem."
"Ah — deep — mm. Mm—"
"Atem—"
Her opened body moved to take in what it felt. Something heartbreakingly earnest about that.
But she was still not quite ready to crest.
Shallow, then deep — moving through her, while his fingers found the small bud and traced it. Stroking, teasing, pressing.
Inside alone was too early. What remained from before — that small raised place — swelled, and her body gave another sudden, full jolt.
"No — stop — not that — ah!"
She knew a feeling like this one. Every time he touched there, a sharp, overwhelming sensation ran through her — her body gripped him from within, involuntarily, and her toes stretched straight.
She twisted, tried to get away — and yet the direct sensation from outside and the soft sensation rising from within — she drowned in both of them, without resisting, and cried out.
That was desire, exactly that. The sensation of her nails finding his back, her breathing, her hair stuck damp to her face — all of it unbearably dear.
As the movement deepened, Atem felt as though she was simply being rocked, carried. All the way in, touching everything. Nothing made sense anymore. Only that it felt good.
"Hah — feels — good — Seto—"
Looking up at him through blurring vision, his expression too was one of pleasure — and she felt something warm move through her chest.
The sounds of the room, his breath against her. Feeling all of it, she felt something rising.
"Ah — I can't — ah! Hah — something—"
For a moment, her consciousness went white. No thoughts. Something, coming.
"Ah — mm—!"
A soundless cry. Her whole body went rigid for an instant, then released with an exhale.
Inside, she contracted in pulses.
Seto looked at her — that expression of bliss — and felt himself go over at the deepest point.
When he withdrew, the blood of a first time fell — not much, and no sign of injury. He let out a quiet breath.
He touched her cheek softly. A dazed face looked up at him. She was probably thinking nothing at all. When every thought and feeling is erased — that was what this was.
"...Seto?"
"Any pain?"
"No. Nowhere."
A loosened smile like a child asking to be indulged, wet eyes. They were confessing love.
He ruffled her hair, and they lay down side by side.
Atem was already dozing in his arms. Pillow talk would not be happening.
"Seto..."
"What is it."
"I really am happy."
"So am I."
"Someday, with you — will we have a child, I wonder..."
The expression with which she spoke of the future was very calm.
They hadn't been loving each other long. Seto had thought he wouldn't mind the two of them alone for a while — no, forever. But if Atem wished for it, that was another matter.
"That may be so."
"If that happened, I'd surely be glad..."
Somewhere in the future, Atem giving birth to a child.
If that time came, it was easy to imagine that he'd dote on it. Atem might well be the steadier of the two.
He held the slender, soft body in his arms and watched Atem drop into sleep while words spilled out of her. She wouldn't remember when she woke. It didn't matter whether she remembered the words.
They were in her chest, as Atem's true feelings.
Atem had said she was happy. Being able to see her like that was happiness.
He kissed the lowered eyelids softly. There was no response.
There was nothing to disturb the two happy people.
And that is the story of a certain night at the end of summer.
From then on they came together at times. Sometimes Seto touched her; sometimes Atem invited him.
Of course there were also times when they merely fell asleep with the cards spread out.
That the one who rejoiced more than anyone at the atmosphere around the two of them shifting to something markedly closer and happier was Isono is something nobody knows.
