Being fought over has stopped being subtext.
They do it in front of him now — the abuse, the drawn sword, the gun out of the breast pocket — and Atem spends his days getting between them and shouting at them to put the weapons away. Until the evening he finally says the thing he has been refusing to say: that he cannot choose, and does not want to.
Both of them hear it. Both of them stop. And then the two most dangerous men he knows arrive, without discussing it, at exactly the same solution, and Atem discovers that being agreed with by these two is considerably worse than being fought over.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 08c IDEAL
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
"My king."
Day after day, Atem was troubled by their fervent approaches.
Being loved, he was straightforwardly glad of. But it was all far too blatant, and every time it ended with his face going red.
Kaiba draws his attention skilfully and exactly. And then fixes him with that gaze of the usual composed sharpness.
Seto flings unconcealed violent feeling and sweetness at him. And turns on him a look that seeps fierce passion, appealing by heat rather than by words.
That much was still tolerable.
Now that the fighting over him had surfaced, the fighting itself surfaced too.
"Atem's time from here is for fighting me."
"No. We hold tomorrow's briefing."
This sort of thing was still tolerable as well.
Once they set about it with abuse of that level of sophistication, he could no longer follow.
Because the air would turn over all at once and they would start throwing sparks.
A hall empty of people. Kaiba and Seto were crossing swords of words, as usual.
"Your words are nothing but the whining of a dead man. Clinging to the past, chaining the king. Is that pride?"
Kaiba wore a cold smile.
"A child's bluster. The ones who cannot guide the king are always the ones whose mouths move best."
Seto cut back in an unwavering tone.
"You mean manipulate, surely. All you are capable of is shutting him in a cage."
"Call it a cage if you like. At least it is better than handing the king over to a starving beast such as you."
"But a beast that can bare its fangs can still protect the king better."
"You, who know nothing but taking, speak of protecting?"
Kaiba's eyes flashed sharp.
"To you, who know nothing of taking, victory will never come."
Seto laughed quietly.
"Victory is no more than a blink. What remains is this soul that holds the king. Your wreckage will rot where it lies."
"What rots is your fantasy. Atem stands together with me. Tremble at that fact, ghost."
"Whelp of the waking world. What lies in your arms is a mirage. It reflects nothing of the king's soul. Sleep embracing your ornament, then."
"The smile of the Atem who stands beside me is real."
"Then show it. Prove that it is not an illusion. Otherwise, that smile I shall take."
The voices of the two of them collided like a blade of ice and a spear of flame, and rang through the hall.
Neither withdrew; it only escalated.
And they produced, one after another, words for cutting each other open to the greatest possible extent.
"Don't make me laugh, ancient ghost. You are a being who merely carried the king's shadow on his back. What have you built in your own name? Without the king's name you are nothing but a pitiable man not one person would turn to look at."
Kaiba's voice was cold, and yet it went in and stuck.
"…And what of you, then. You are no more than a child the king saved. Without the king's hand you were nothing but a broken vessel. A spoiled child who merely mistakes the debt of being saved for strength."
Seto's eyes did not waver, and he loosed his words as though gouging deep.
Kaiba's brow moved slightly.
Each of them knows the other's nature through and through. The choice of words that will wound the other most is exact.
"I hide behind no man's back. If I have received salvation, then I surpass it on top of that."
"You are only a child who goes on chasing the king's phantom. Somewhere in your heart you still crave to be acknowledged by the king. You are simply not aware of how base that is."
"I have already proved it. Atem is beside me. Unlike you."
Kaiba's voice was hard as steel, but heat seeped from the bottom of it.
Seto put on a faint smile.
"What is there to boast of, when you cannot look into the king's heart? Even supposing the king loves you — even so, what sounds in the depths of the soul is my name. That, you can never cancel out."
"Then be silent and watch. The reality Atem chose, I will paint over entirely."
"If it can be painted over. What is carved into the king's soul, no one can crush. It is a place your blade does not reach."
Sparks fly.
Each of them trying to break down the other's grounds for existing, and still neither retreats a step.
That obsession over the king made even an exchange of abuse ring like proof of a ferocious love.
"You carried the king's radiance on your back and still could not protect the throne. Without admitting that responsibility, you go on clinging to his soul. Is that your loyalty?"
Kaiba flung it out as though spitting.
Seto's eyes flashed sharp.
"The one who lost the throne was the king. What I carried was the clearing-up after the ruin. But what of you? With the king beside you in the living world, you were still hungry, still not satisfied. Pitiable child, tormented by an appetite that is never filled."
The manner of the thrust was superb. Seto's cruel kindness, with no feeling mixed into it, rubbed Kaiba's reason the wrong way.
But Kaiba sneered.
"I am always looking at the future. And what of you? Nothing but a pitiable retainer who cannot prove himself without clinging to the king."
"Then let me tell you. You are inferior even to a retainer. Had you at least been able to guide the king it would have been something to be proud of — and instead you are proud of merely standing beside him."
"What you guided him to was ruin. Don't talk down to me, ghost — you who could not protect the king, who lost the country, who destroyed even yourself."
Kaiba's voice sprang up sharply.
"One who feared ruin cannot seize the future. That I bound my soul on even after I perished was loyalty to the king. But what of you? You are simply making the king an ornament of your own desire."
"A love that will not admit its own appetite is a false one. I chose Atem not as an ornament but as the proof of my own self. Unlike you."
Kaiba took a step forward.
Seto took a step forward as well, and dropped his voice low.
"The ones who cry out about proof are the ones with no confidence. Modern-day whelp — you are afraid, are you not. That the king's heart will choose me in the end."
Kaiba's eyes narrowed. A smile as cold as ice.
"…Good. I'll turn even that fear into strength."
Sparks burst, and the air draws taut.
Sharp-edged salvoes of words, as though sword struck against sword.
Neither retreating a step, the fight staked on the king goes on.
By the time he came running, Atem was left behind, and following it was beyond him. But even that was still tolerable.
What came after developed into a situation in which, although he was dead already, no number of hearts would have been enough.
Once the blades of words have finished cutting the space apart, the distance between the two of them turns cold in an instant, and narrows.
The stones of the hall take up their footsteps and, still swallowing the stillness, wait for the collision that will arrive the next moment.
Seto's fingertips slid slowly to the hilt of his sword. The motion is unhurried, but an appalling resolve is stored inside it.
The deep blue eyes narrow for just an instant, and the shadow cast on the flagstones stretches sharp. The sound of the sword drawn from its sheath rang down the corridor as a dry note of metal. The sound is not long, but the meaning that lies in it is heavy.
Preparation in order to protect; a vow that he will not give up.
Kaiba does not show a moment's lag either. His hand slid into his breast pocket, and what it touched there was cold metal.
With a small sound, he draws out the gun. The movement is short and sharp. The gun settles into his palm, and his line of sight goes to Seto's chest — but it pierces, precisely, the will that lies beyond it, the will of one who stands at the king's side. The blue deep in his eyes cools a degree further.
Only the breathing of each is clearly audible. As though bouncing back off the stone walls, a thick air stagnates between them. There are no spectators. Only the long history between them looked down on it.
Seto sets the sword straight in front of him and turns the point slightly toward Kaiba. But the angle is not one for cutting; it is one for holding in check. The coldness of the blade picks up the light and frames his face hard.
He said, in a quiet voice:
"Do not confuse the king any further. I protect the king."
In that voice mix a prayer to protect and a fear of things breaking.
Kaiba shifts his grip lightly on the muzzle as though checking it, and wears a cold smile.
"Protect? I am merely going easy on you in taking Atem."
He returns the provocation from an angle the blade does not reach. His fingertips stroke near the trigger. The movement is cold-blooded, a mass of calculation. But behind that calculation there is heat as well, and it cannot be held down.
Atem, coming at a run, went white and his face contorted.
From deep in his body a thin vibration carries through. Not footsteps running across the stone floor: a resonance like a flood, heard inside his own chest.
"Kaiba, Seto, what on earth are you doing now—"
Atem cuts in between the two of them. His body is not trembling, but his heart was violently shaken. His gaze goes back and forth between them.
"Atem. I'll have you decide now."
"My king. In that decision I shall lend a hand."
From either side, an air weighs down on him that says: choose.
Kaiba draws his brows together; Seto narrows his eyes.
"Wait! Just put the weapons away!"
Things of this kind unfold in front of him with considerable frequency.
He really did think they would not go so far as to fight for each other's lives, but that did not make it any easier to bear.
The pressure only mounts.
Today, too, roars and sparks fly between Kaiba and Seto. Cold looks cross, and blades of words shave at each other.
The bodies of the two of them tilt very slightly forward. As though the flow of long years had converged on that one moment alone.
Blade and muzzle glare at each other at the height of the other's eyes. Neither withdrawing, neither yielding.
If victory and defeat cannot be settled by words, then next it is simply for action to speak.
In that instant the sword point trembled faintly, once, and a light of tension ran over the muzzle as well.
The blade takes the light and flashes small; the coldness of the muzzle cuts the darkness open. There is no signal yet for anyone to move.
But the war of words is over now. What will be loosed next is iron, and will.
The air of the corridor draws taut, as though pricked with a needle. Sword levelled, gun in hand, the two of them. The settlement begins after a single breath.
Seto reads the aim first.
"The crown of the head. So you've grown a little."
"And what if you have read the aim?"
"You appear not to have released the safety catch, or whatever it is called. As I thought, you are still soft."
"…I am perfectly capable of holding you in check without using a weapon."
Sparks fly between Kaiba and Seto. A grinding step forward.
"Stop it — no more of this!"
Atem's voice rang out sharply.
At the air of the place, Atem's heart pounds. Impatience whirling deep in his chest.
He could not let this go on. There was no possibility of his standing by without stopping it.
He forced his way between them and spread both arms to hold them off.
"…What is it, all of a sudden."
Kaiba said it low, as though spitting it out, but he did not lower his arm yet.
"There is no need for you to stop us. I shall settle it."
Seto's gaze, too, stayed on Kaiba.
"I need both of you!"
Atem's voice shook, and with eyes over which a thin film of tears had drawn, he caught the two of them fighting, by turns.
"I can't choose one or the other. I don't want to choose!"
In that instant, Seto's hand stopped slightly. Deep in his eyes, an unsuppressible violent feeling shone, and also a hesitation.
Kaiba, too, narrowed his eyes at the strength of Atem's will. Irritated a little, and yet with a softness mixed into that gaze.
"…What a troublesome creature you are."
Kaiba let out a small breath, as though exasperated. But keeping his distance, keeping his gaze sharp, he accepted Atem's words and lowered the gun.
Seto, too, nodded quietly and returned the sword to its sheath.
"…Understood. If that is what you wish, I shall respect it."
With the silence flowing, Atem let out a breath of relief. He is still trembling a little, but his look does not waver.
At the edge of Atem's field of vision, the presence of the two of them crosses.
"So neither of you can give way, after all."
Atem murmured it small. Feelings that cannot be sorted out by logic come welling up.
He does not know how he is supposed to handle a self that wavers between the two of them. Deep in his chest, sweetness and impatience, expectation and fear, mix together.
Kaiba's gaze is cold, and tells him certainly that he wants him.
"Do you imagine I can give way? I intend to fight."
Seto's hot gaze reaches him too, and tries to sweep his reason away.
"If the modern-day whelp will not withdraw, there is no help for it."
Both of them want him. At that seriousness, that fierceness, Atem's chest tightened.
They intend to go on fighting even now. Whichever he chose, the fighting would continue. The two he holds dear would go on fighting. He could not bear it any longer.
"I— both of you matter to me. So at least stop the fighting. Otherwise… I'll—"
At those words, trembling, close to tears, the air stopped for an instant.
We've made him cry.
Kaiba silently raised an eyebrow and loosened his lips a fraction.
Seto, too, quietly steadied his breathing and sank the flame of his violent feeling for a moment.
Kaiba's gaze and Seto's crossed.
It was the moment when an unspoken understanding came into being — toward each other, and toward Atem.
If Atem demands that they stop fighting, then in its place there is nothing for it but to construct a new relationship.
In this moment, the distance between the three of them was fixed. The relationship Atem had wished for came quietly, but certainly, into being.
"Understood. If that is what you wish."
Kaiba tells him expressionlessly, flatly.
"My king, I too shall accept it."
Seto followed, expressionless as well.
"Accept — my wish?"
Atem alone was not keeping up.
"It means this."
Abruptly, Kaiba kissed Atem.
At the sensation of the lips, Atem's breathing came near stopping, and his heart beat faster still.
"Wait, Seto is watching— I meant the fighting—"
"And it means this."
Seto, too, touched Atem's lips.
In that instant Atem came near losing his power of thought, and with the consciousness he recovered his face was dyed with astonishment.
"You can't mean—"
The sensation of lips laid over his, the light contact of fingertips, the eyes that gaze at him.
At last he understood that everything had been "resolved" into the shape he had wished for.
His body trembles and his head is going blank, and yet deep in his heart a hot happiness spreads by degrees.
"No, but that's—"
"What is it. If it's only me you want, say so."
"No — only me. Isn't that so, my king."
"That isn't what I—"
Kaiba's fingertips run along Atem's throat. His earlobe is caught between them, and a breath escapes him in spite of himself.
Seto bit at the ear on the other side. His body goes stiff.
"No… stop…"
"Your no is nothing but lies."
Fingertips, upper arms, under the arms, the line of the spine to the nape of the neck — Kaiba touches Atem's sensitive places with pinpoint accuracy.
"Lying will not do."
His chin is caught in fingertips and he is turned to face upward.
Eyes of exactly the same colour gaze steadily at him.
"So it really is the same colour…"
The same colour, and the same temperature.
Atem's chest beats hot. His reason cannot process it yet, but his body answers honestly.
After the confusion and the hesitation, a small certainty buds in Atem's heart.
Perhaps it may come to this, with the two of them.
In that instant head and heart and body became one, and a heat of understanding and acceptance spread slowly through him.
Inside his chest, Atem finally lets it out.
"…Understood. I am between the two of them."
In that instant, the eyes of both turned on him at once.
Both Kaiba and Seto were wearing the smile of a prank that has come off.
I may have been hasty, Atem thought.
"G-go easy on me, would you…?"
In the silence, Atem still felt heat deep in his chest. When he looked up at the two of them by turns, Kaiba flatly and Seto with a slight smile exchanged a glance with each other.
"…So it's the three of us, then."
A little tension mixes into Atem's voice.
"If you're uneasy, there's nothing for it but to find out."
Kaiba's voice is low and unwavering. When his fingertips touch Atem's shoulder, his body reacts and a small breath escapes him.
"If I am not to have you to myself."
Seto comes near Atem and touches his lips lightly. The body heat carries through in an instant, and Atem's heart leapt.
Caught between the two of them, Atem opens his eyes wide. A sweet, hot stimulus he has never tasted before wraps his whole body.
"…Wait, both of you, this is sudden—!"
Startled, and yet unable to resist. When Atem concentrates, the hands and lips of the two of them cross over him as though confirming him.
Kaiba's fingertips slide from shoulder to chest, tracing lightly over the muscle and searching out reactions.
Atem's breathing grows shallow and quick, and the rise and fall of his chest trembles finely.
"Heart and body both, you're answering my hand."
At the low voice whispered at his ear, Atem's consciousness wavers, and he drew his brows together in spite of himself.
Seto twines an arm around his waist and enfolds Atem with his whole body.
"Though I should have preferred you to be my king alone."
Lips touch his throat, and teeth give a gentle stimulus. Atem's spine jumps, and his head tilts unsteadily.
Kaiba moves his fingers to the centre of the chest and searches softly for a reaction.
Seto does not let that pass; he closes his hand around the young stem and rouses it.
The attacks of the two of them twine together, and Atem's body falls into the illusion of floating in the air.
"Ah… wait…"
Atem's voice escapes, and his body reacts honestly to the sensations the two bring him.
Kaiba whispers at his ear, licks lightly, sends heat.
"You may entrust yourself and be easy. Trust me."
At the intelligent gentleness, Atem nods slightly and gives his whole body over.
Seto, on the other side, holds Atem down with a force that is rough and also enfolding.
"There is no need to hesitate. Accept all of me."
In the depths of his consciousness, Atem gives himself over to a comfortable heat. Held by the two of them, a sweet and licentious stretch of time began quietly, but certainly.
The sensation and heat of fingers; lips and fingertips playing over him. Atem's consciousness melts, and a voice escapes him naturally.
"Ah… nn… nn…"
The difference between the fine movement of Kaiba's hand and Seto's fierce caresses sets Atem's body trembling.
Breath tangles with breath, and the sensation of his whole body threatens to reach its limit at once. But the two of them do not permit it.
"Ah… ah, ahh… nn…"
From back to shoulder, from waist to chest, his whole body is dominated by the two of them, and his consciousness is dyed with a transgressive and delicious confusion.
Holding his breath between the two of them, what Seto had drilled into Atem seeped naturally out of his body. The small movements of his fingertips, the subtle reactions of his hips, the quickening of his breath. All of it connects to this present moment.
Kaiba's eyes flash sharp.
"…Remarkably practised."
A low voice with irritation in it. He observes each single movement of Atem's without letting any of it past.
Atem's breath trembled, and he flinched slightly in spite of himself.
"That's— that isn't—"
But his body reacts naturally, and heat runs through him at Kaiba's hand merely touching his shoulder.
Beside him, Seto smiles.
"The modern-day whelp shows an entertaining reaction."
He draws Atem a little in his own direction, and gives a small stimulus with his fingertips.
Kaiba's gaze turns severe.
Seto's finger strokes Atem's chest lightly, and his lips touch his ear.
"…Doing that in front of me. …Then I'll carve myself into you. So that you can't forget."
Jealousy and possessiveness mix together, and strength goes into his arms.
At the low, resonant voice and the heat of the fingertips, Atem's body trembles slightly. His breath comes near catching, and his lips part thinly in spite of himself. The sensation of being invaded by Kaiba's heat, down to the bottom of his heart.
From behind, Seto's hips are pressed against him, and his lips slide along his throat as though crawling.
"My king, you are permitted to think of me alone."
Seto's whisper is sweet, and yet it carries mildness as well.
At the soft but powerful pressure and the heat of the lips, Atem's body reacts naturally. The traces of Kaiba's fingers are painted over by Seto's force of dominion.
"Seto…"
At those words Kaiba caught his breath, and held down the heat blazing up deep in his chest.
"…Atem."
Kaiba drew Atem hard against him and enfolded him in his arms.
Bewildered as he is, Atem feels heat deep in his body, and gives himself over with something like gladness.
The hands of the two of them touch Atem at the same time. Shoulder, chest, waist, thigh. Each time they touch, a sweet, hot sensation runs through his whole body.
"…Nn, ah…"
At Atem's small voice, Kaiba slides his lips along his throat.
Seto whispers at his ear and, touching him as though biting, holds down the jumping hips and plays with Atem's rising.
Atem's body reacts to it all naturally, and rocks back and forth.
"Toward me… the reaction is quick."
Kaiba's arm supports Atem's back, and his fingertips touch his chest.
"He responds sensitively toward me."
At that voice, Seto laughs through his nose and bites Atem's shoulder lightly.
"Hah. Still soft, I see."
"The soft one is you. You appear not to have grasped Atem."
The psychological battle over Atem goes on at the same time as well.
Kaiba crushes down his own possessiveness and deliberately watches the places Seto's hands touch, using jealousy as fuel to work on Atem.
Seto wears a smile of ease and, as though stoking Kaiba's irritation, lays Atem's appetite still barer.
"…He's mine."
At Kaiba's low whisper, Atem's body jumped in spite of himself.
Seto smiles as though provoking him.
"The battle over the king does not appear to be over yet."
Seto's voice rings further inside his head, and his whole body melts into heat.
At the centre of it, Atem trembles in body and in heart, and his breathing grows rough.
The fingertips, palms and lips of the two of them cross, and the exchange of minute sensations goes on.
Within a delicious confusion, Atem was feeling with pleasure his own body being laid open by the two of them.
The numbness of fingertips, the heat of lips, the low register of whispers. All of it crosses, and traces are carved in, down to the bottom of his heart.
Kaiba slides a finger to the hollow and sinks his fingertip in slowly.
"Ah… no…"
His body trembles, and voices that do not become voices come one after another.
"Atem. That again."
"Lies will not work."
Into the place where Kaiba has already begun a simulated thrusting, Seto's fingers achieved their entry as well.
"No… not that—"
Mingling sensations, crossing breath. The distance between the three of them closes at once, and inside Atem reason and pleasure contend.
Pleasure and affection press in on his whole body, and even the reason that would resist vanishes away.
Sweet, dense, and fierce, the battle. Unable to choose which of them to give himself over to, Atem was simply swallowed in a whirl of heat.
"I shall yield the first turn to the young."
"Oh? Then I'll take all of it."
Kaiba lays Atem down and covers him.
When he touched with a finger, that place of Atem's had melted completely to pieces.
"Atem."
Atem looked up at Kaiba. He kissed him sweetly and slowly began the entry. It is by no means fierce. But every single movement makes Atem lift a sweet voice.
Shallow, and at times deep.
"Ha… Kai… ba… ah…"
In a world shut in, what he feels is each other's heat and breathing. Atem puts out a hand and twines his arms round Kaiba.
"That's right, Atem. You can't run any more."
The voice falling on his ear is sweet, and announces dominion. To it Atem spills a hot breath and closed his eyes, as though relieved.
Held sweetly and gently, falling into safety.
I see, thought Seto, watching that. He had believed he understood Atem and had him grasped, but it seemed he had looked into unknown territory.
"Hold on tightly."
Taking hold of Atem's shoulder, he begins to mix in fierceness by degrees.
In sex the alternation of speed and restraint is an important element as well. Checking how he is, keeping it at just a little short of enough, and making him want more.
The use of the hips, the strength of the hand on the shoulder, the words whispered, the timing of a kiss. Tuning all of it to Atem's preference, filling his heart.
When he strikes the deepest place, Atem trembled all over.
"Kaiba… all of it, touching…"
The thing called a perfect fit is a fantasy. The key is how far you can raise the mood.
If the heart fills and the whole of his consciousness concentrates on Kaiba, that becomes possible.
"Atem. That's right. Carve me into you."
"Ahh, I— nn, nnh—!"
When Atem reached the peak, Kaiba kissed him as though in praise. In his eyes were reflected safety and trust.
"Not bad, for the modern-day whelp."
Seto embraced Atem from behind, and lifting his body just as he was, brought his hips down onto himself.
"Hah—!"
"It will not be enough yet, surely."
Watched by Kaiba from in front, held by Seto. Atem felt as though his whole body were lit with heat.
"Ah, no… Seto…"
"Look at yourself, if you please. I told you that lies would not work."
When his rising, which had begun to react, is stroked with fingertips, he is made to know, whether he will or no, that he is feeling this situation.
Seto bites at his throat and rocks the hips he has hold of.
Atem shakes and shudders as he is thrust into, and falls into pleasure.
Unable to think of anything, forgetting even that he is watched, he lifted his voice.
Whether reason remains in him or not, Atem puts out a hand toward Kaiba's stomach.
Kaiba blinked once, and gave one glare at the Seto sneering over Atem's shoulder. But so Atem had this aptitude in him, he thought, deepening his understanding.
When Seto let go of the hips he had been holding, Atem tipped his body forward as though drawn to it, and without hesitation kissed Kaiba's sex.
Attacking each other, matching their breathing, reading the body's reactions.
Their styles are exactly opposite. Kaiba is precise and elegant; Seto is bold and fierce.
Kaiba's fingertips search out Atem's reactions with precision, as though moving pieces on a chessboard. Not letting past a single way of touching, nor even a change of posture, he stages the maximum of pleasure with the minimum of force.
"…Nn, ah, Kaiba…"
Seto strikes at the openings in that and opens Atem out more boldly. Contrary to his mild expression, a concealed blackness and fierceness gush out at once. He has no intention of releasing an Atem once taken hold of, and would dominate him completely with that body heat and that force.
"Seto… there, is…"
But the pleasure given by both at once is equally intense, and it confuses Atem's consciousness.
Both of them were being accepted by Atem's own will.
Voices mingle, and their appetites and possessiveness strike against each other.
Kaiba puts a little strength into the gripping hand out of jealousy and affection; Seto rocks Atem with ease and pleasure.
"Ahh, I— nn."
Pierced from behind by Seto, while in front Kaiba has taken Atem into his mouth.
The sensations of his whole body cross, and pleasure chains and overflows.
His chest tightens, deep in his belly aches hot, his whole body trembles. Voices that do not become voices escape one after another, and the depths of his body announce their limit.
"Hah… ah… no… ah…"
Pleasure runs up as far as his brain, and Atem's consciousness is completely dominated by the two of them.
The traces of Kaiba's hand and lips and of Seto's hips and lips are carved over his whole body, and what remains is only heat and delicious pleasure.
From the bottom of his heart, Atem decided.
"I— choose— this— nn—"
Kaiba crushed down a smile and, with a wet sound, violated him as far as the eardrum.
Seto, dominating his whole body with hips and lips, breathed at Atem's ear with a composed gaze.
The rise and fall of the chest, the rocking of the hips, the sensation of fingertips. All of it raised to the limit, and pleasure and safety pierce his body at once, shivering down his spine.
"Ah… I can't… ah…"
Lips touch, breathing mingles, and Atem's body trembles finely.
Two different pleasures cross and dominate the whole of Atem's nerves. His whole body is wrapped in heat, and his consciousness melted as though dissolving.
The happiness of choosing freely, and of being touched by the two of them by his own will, soaks into every corner of his body.
Heart and body both filled with pleasure and affection, he was feeling deeply his connection with the two of them.
"…Ahh… I can't— no—!"
Atem draws the two of them to him with both hands, only to tremble between them instead, and melt sweetly.
"The trial appears to have gone well."
"It seems we can continue without difficulty."
In time his body stilled its trembling, and Atem, held between them, let out a deep breath.
As the night deepened, delicious sparks flew ceaselessly between the three of them, and the psychological battle and the exchange of bodies reached their peak.
Atem's body held between the arms of the two of them, his consciousness drowned in a delicious confusion, he sank into the abyss of the night.
To the last moment the battle went on, possessiveness and appetite and trust mixed together in it, and the afterglow of a sweet and fierce night remained.
Drowning in body and heart both under the attacks of the two of them, Atem was at last feeling his freedom.
Held in the arms of the two of them, Atem was slowly settling a body that still carried heat.
Kaiba's fingertips trace his back; Seto's hand holds his waist.
Between them only quiet breathing sounded, as though they were warming their flushed bodies against each other.
"…Is that — all, then…?"
Atem asks in a small, hoarse voice.
Receiving the gaze that wavers between the two of them, Kaiba answers, faintly crushing down a smile.
"…If it is what you want, I'll say nothing more."
At those words, Seto too nods quietly.
"My king, you are mine. And… the other one's as well."
Seto's voice is mild, but the depth of what he means does not waver.
Steadying his breathing, Atem was taking in those intentions with his whole body.
"Understood… I need both of you."
The feeling spreading hot deep in his chest, he puts into his own words.
"Like this, there's no fighting, and no hesitating in me either…"
Kaiba puts an arm round Atem's shoulder, and Seto lays his hand mildly over it.
The distance closes, and they overlap quietly, as though confirming each other's existence.
"…I entrust all of myself."
When Atem puts it into words, he smiles small, and then brings his lips close.
Two warmths overlap at once, and stroke Atem's cheeks gently.
"For ever, we shall be with you."
Seto's voice overlaps quietly as well, and tells them certainly that the hearts of the three have become one.
Morning light comes in at the window.
Atem wakes in Kaiba's arms and feels, vaguely, the sensation of a body still carrying heat.
At his fingertips a faint afterglow of last night remains, and the weight of Kaiba touching his shoulder and chest brings safety and happiness.
"You're awake."
Kaiba's low voice reaches his ear, and Atem smiles small.
"Good morning, Kaiba."
When he turns his eyes the other way, Seto comes into view, looking at him quietly from beside him.
"Good morning, my king."
As though last night's ferocity had been a lie, a soft air drifts there.
Seto puts on a mild smile and takes Atem's hand gently.
"You seemed pleased with last night."
"…I suppose… so."
Atem answers with his face going red.
Kaiba drew Atem in with both arms and stroked his head.
"Atem. From here on, that is the standard."
"Mm… ah, ha… I'll brace myself."
At Atem's words Seto laughed faintly, and Kaiba too put a smile at his mouth.
As though yesterday's sparks had been a lie, the conversation is unhurried. Now and then laughter rings out, as though teasing one another.
"Modern-day whelp — were you holding back a little last night?"
"…So the ancient ghost has been teaching him unnecessary things?"
"Thinking of my king, there was no help for it."
Watching the exchange of the two of them, Atem found it endearing, and his heart grew warm.
Within a small daily round, last night's heat and each man's possessiveness — all of it he can hold, and be at ease.
Each settling into his own position, they savour a quiet stretch of time.
"With this, we can be together."
Deep in his chest, embracing all the conflict and all the sweetness up to yesterday, Atem murmured it quietly.
In the morning light the three of them simply felt each other's presence, and while still steeped in the afterglow, they met a new day mildly.
Body and heart both flushed, wrapped completely in safety and a delicious trust, Atem let out a deep breath for the first time.
A new relationship begins here.
Acknowledging each other's existence, wanting each other, a daily round spun in an unshakable balance.
A sweet and sensual world, to be laid up on top of promises that have not yet taken shape.
This is one of three endings.
The others are 8a — REAL and 8b — DREAM, both branching from the same point in Chapter 7. They are alternatives to each other; none of them is the "true" one.
