Hmm. Why can I only get Atemu in an Egyptian sequence?

Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, but I recently purchased the decaying ruins of the Titanic.

I abuse telephone conversations. I'll try to stop doing that in the next chapter. Sorry for the wait.

"So ya settled in nicely, pal? No more pointing guns?"

"Yes, quite settled, and no, no guns," Atemu said, chuckling as he took a swig out of his drink. Joey grinned from across the table before tucking into his third dish. Really, Atemu was wondering where he put all this food.

"Man, this foodstuff is awesome!" Joey said enthusiastically. Atemu leaned back in his chair, looking amused. Joey just kept eating, giving Atemu the chance to survey the surroundings. It was exceptionally nice—oak-paneled and fitted with old-fashioned rectangular tables and swivel chairs, located on 'D' Deck, aft of the fourth funnel and aft staircase.

Umm… The satisfied purr left his throat before he could stop it. Joey didn't even bat an eyelash. Atemu let his hands roam to the golden puzzle, which now hung around his neck in plain sight. Resting said hands upon the Egyptian artifact, Atemu paused to think about the strange headache that had come after he had come in contact with it. Joey said he had stumbled in to see Atemu laying on the floor, unconscious, and that he had been "very grateful" that Atemu "hadn't chosen the top bunk."

Atemu just remembered waking up with a strange feeling, like he had been sleeping in the sun all day and had just woken up.

He didn't remember anything in between touching the puzzle and collapsing. Joey said that he'd muttered something, but he hadn't been able to tell what it was. At one point, Joey claimed, Atemu had opened his eyes and stood, looking so "fucking regal" that he had been tempted to drop to his knees and kiss the floor at his feet.

Atemu had told him that he was drunk and tired, and should therefore get some rest right away.

Game, set, and match.

Atemu shook his head, wondering where that thought had come from.

"So you really came in through first class, eh?" Joey inquired happily.

"Oh, yes…"

"Lucky bastard. Didn't have to go through 'B' Deck like the rest of us?"

"I thought 'B' Deck was fairly enjoyable when I went through it."

"I s'pose," Joey grumbled, shooting him a look.

Atemu just chuckled. "Where's the blonde from last night, Joseph?" he purred teasingly, laughing at his cabin mate's suddenly red face. "She was quite a looker that one, yes?"

"Hey, man, paws off!" Joey said.

"Rest assured, Joey, she's all yours," Atemu replied, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. Joey scowled.

"Didn't your Ma ever teach you to share?"

"I wouldn't know. She died when my brother was born."

"Oh… Hey, man, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's hard to feel loss for someone I only knew for a scant three years."

Joey peered at him for a moment longer before shrugging and relaxing, pulling out his own smoke. "Shouldn't we be using da smoking room for this?"

"Doesn't look like anyone else is," Atemu said, but he tapped the cigar over a tray and threw the rest out.

"Waste, man."

Atemu merely scooted out of his chair, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Well, Joey, I'll leave you and your lady love alone, shall I?" he asked as he spotted a rather attractive blonde woman making her way towards them. She was dressed rather simply, with a white and brown dress. Atemu chuckled as he saw Joey's eyes follow her chest, which was looking strained in her dress. He hit the blonde over the head.

"Her eyes are up there," he laughed, sauntering off with a small sway of his own, as well as his customary smirk.

He was just in time to here Joey mumbled a rather embarrassed "Hello" before he left the area, intent on exploring the other regions of this ship.

-x-

"Good day to you, sir!"

"And to you!" Atemu's response was polite, but he didn't stop to do more than ask how someone's day one, and even then only if he felt like taking a break from the brisk stroll. Titanic was currently docked in Queenstown, Ireland. Briefly, he wondered how far away Belfast was. The Titanic's birthplace, as it was.

Ah, still, it was good not to have his stomach rolling around, though he certainly appreciated the fact that he was well on his way to getting his "sea legs", or so they said.

Making his way to the bow of the ship, he amused himself by counting the lifeboats he found. Hmm…

"Excuse me, sir, how many lifeboats are on this ship?" Atemu asked one of the officers.

"The Titanic's unsinkable, boy—I wouldn't be worrying about that," the officer replied. Atemu felt irritated.

"I know that, but all the same, I'd like to know, if only to satisfy my own curiosity. The officer shot him an irritated look.

"Sixteen, not including the four collapsible boats."

There now, was that really so hard?

Atemu thanked the man, continuing his own voyage to the bow of the ship itself. Stopping, he leaned over the rail, looking at the still waters below them. He could hear the roar of the waters and the shrieking of the gulls that flew overhead. He looked beside him, almost laughing.

Emerald country indeed.

He failed to see why the Irish would want to leave it. He then looked behind him. The first class deck was, naturally, higher up than the others, and boy did they enjoy lording it over the rest of them. As first class, they weren't restricted to any part of the ship save the crews' quarters and the boiler rooms.

Lucky bastards.

He needed to think up a new complaint.

Still, he didn't believe it gave them the right to "slum", as it were. After all, the memory from that very morning clung to him sharply, causing him to scowl.

-x-

Joey huffed as he pulled Atemu's still half-asleep form from the room, shaking him lightly.

"Come on you lazy puzzle-nut! We're going to see some friends of mine!"

"Mmmmeeeeaaaarrrggghhh?"

"Third class."

"Mrrf."

"They didn't have enough for second class, and before you ask, yes they forced me to buy second class so I wouldn't miss out. Now come on; we'll be late if you don't get yourself moving!"

Atemu sighed, straightening himself and attempting to make himself more presentable. "All right, Joey—all right. Am I nice enough now?"

"Yup," Joey said, flashing him a grin before dragging the short male down the hallways and staircases until they reached their destination.

The rest of the trip had been rather uneventful. They had picked up Mai on the way there—which was how Atemu had been introduced to her—met Joey's pals Tristan Taylor and Duke Devlin (honestly, what kind of name was 'Duke Devlin', anyway?), along with Tristan's girlfriend, whose name he had been unable to remember. The five of them had sat down while Joey introduced them, and had gotten along just fine, until…

"My, my… would you look at that?"

"So this is what the lower class does in their spare time! How quaint!"

"Ugh! Can't you smell the stench?"

Atemu looked up to see four or five first class passengers standing at the stairwell to the third class dining room. His eyes narrowed, but he did nothing. When he turned back to his companions, however, he saw that Miho—was that her name? —was blushing in shame and staring at the floor while Tristan and Duke looked angrily around the room. Joey, for his part, looked rather indignant, mirroring the expression on Atemu's own face, he was sure.

There were five, now that he bothered to count: two solemn-looking males and three young, and obviously very wealthy females. Actually, the one female looked older, like she could be their mother. Hmm…

"Ugh! It's so foul! How can they all live so cramped together? Why, I hear they don't even have their own bathrooms! They have to share!"

"My nose! My nose!"

"Come now, Analeigh. You know they can't help it—the poor simpletons couldn't afford their own tickets. They must be used to the smell."

Atemu stood up, hands clenched, Joey at his side.

"Excuse ma'am, but the only intrusive smell I sense seems to be coming from you!" The women gasped, tittering behind their fans. The older woman was the first to glare at him.

"You dare speak to your betters in such a way?"

"When you find my betters, let me know."

The wealthy men looked amused.

"Yeah! What makes you think that you're better den us?" Joey snapped.

The women looked at him like it should be obvious.

"Well, for one we have more money—"

"—we're better dressed—"

"—we don't smell—"

"I certainly beg to differ."

"You!" The older woman said, pointing at Atemu. "Crawl back to the gutter you came from!"

"Do you consider second class just as lowly as us?" Tristan yelled. The rich woman shrugged.

"They certainly have more class!"

"Could be way they're second class!"
"That is possibly the worst insult I've ever heard," Joey whispered.

"Hmm… Thank you for the compliment, ladies. My second class companion and I are much obliged!" Atemu shouted, pulling out his second-class ticket with a flourish, like he would a simple playing card.

The two young women gasped, giggling, while the older woman sniffed in disapproval.

"Now if you'll kindly stop lowering yourselves to our level and be on your way…?"

"Please. I think we'd all breathe easier!" a random man from the crowd shouted.

"I can't smell my alcohol over this stench!" Duke said, putting on a fake accent so that his "can't" sounded like "cawnt" and his "my" sounded like "ma".

"Daddy! Daddy, look!" One of the girls said, pointing to the inverted triangle hanging around Atemu's neck. The gold must have caught their attention.

"Father, we want something like that!" The other woman proclaimed.
"What, this? I hope you're willing to spend hours of your precious time piecing it together, then," Atemu sneered.

"Now see here—" The men said, trying to intervene, but Atemu and Joey had already hopped onto the platform that was elevated in the middle of the room. The other tenants, still sitting at their tables, were cheering them on.

"Heya, Joey Sirrah!" Atemu slurred, putting on a fake southern accent. "Ah do believe Ah dropped ma diamond bracelet back there!"

"Well, Alena," Joey said, slipping into a rich French accent. "Why don't you just go buy another one, yes?"

"But mah fatha said that Ah wasn't allowed to buy anymore when Ah lost the last one!" Atemu said, whining. "He said that Ah had already lost seven, and that he wasn't gonna buy me anymore!" With that Atemu stomped his foot, causing Joey to shuffle around and fuss over him like a ward.

"Well, Madame, I do not think zat 'e would mind if you bought just one more, no?"

The third class passengers laughed. "Why, I 'eard that—"

"Alena! Alena, my daughter, come and greet your loving father!" Tristan said, stepping onto the stage and puffing out his chest. No one questioned why Atemu had an accent and Tristan didn't. Atemu fluttered his lashes at Joey before skipping off to go hug "her father."

"Fatha! Fatha! Ah lost it, Ah did! Ah didn't mean to, though! Will you buy me anotha one? Please, father, please?" Atemu pleaded, duplicating Yuugi's 'The Eyes.'

"Well… I told you that—"

"Oh Harold, hun," Miho said, stepping into the roll of 'mother.' "Let him have it, okay? We have tons of money!"

"Well… I suppose, Melinda, but…"

"But ma!" Duke said, joining them. "Last night when I asked if I could have a car all my own you said no!" His fake accent was British, making for a rather confusing jumble of conversations.

"I don't think it's fair that she—"

"—Ah want ma bracelet, dammit!"

"—She's just a young girl—what's one more bracelet?"

"Ah want my bracelet!"

"Zut alores!"

"Shut up, you old—"
"But Melinda, darling—"

This went on for a few more minutes before "Harold" and "Melinda" finally came to an agreement, Duke stomped off the stage and Joey finished fussing over "Alena".

Suddenly, Atemu grabbed a chair, climbed up onto it, and yelled over the crowd.

"Ah don't want that bracelet no more! Ah wanna get married! Joey, will you marry me?" Then the whole thing came crashing down as he ducked to avoid a flying object, sending him careening to the ground with a muffled thump and laughter.

The first class passengers, their faces red with rage and humiliation, merely huffed, harrumphed and excused themselves.

"Bloody brilliant!" Joey howled as the performers stood on the stage again and whooped to the applause. Even shy-looking Miho joined them, blushing prettily at the cheers and whistles that filled the room.

"Zee performance was a success!" Joey crowed, using the accent one more time before dropping it. Duke was dusting off his vest, winking at some ladies in the crowd and waving. Tristan was standing near Miho and Joey. The blonde handed him a beer and lifted it into the air, mirroring his companion.

As for Atemu he just smirked, throwing a few winks of his own to the young ladies in the crowd.

After all, what danger was there in such a harmless amount of fun?

-x-

In retrospect, perhaps it had been a good thing. After all, one didn't get many chances to do something like that and get away with it. If he had been back in Europe he would have been mugged in an alley and left to die on orders of the very people he had offended.

And the Dartz threat never helped, either. Come to think of it, he could have done something like that anyway, since there were gangs and thugs coming after him regardless!

Wonderful.

Though… he'd have more of them to worry about… This train of thought was going nowhere. What else did he have to think about now? His hands flew to the golden puzzle around his neck. Strange little thing… he frowned. Was it warm? Strange… Ah, it must have been pressed against his body for too long; it have most likely absorbed his own body heat.

"Atemu!"

Atemu blinked, pushing himself away from the rail and turning to see a blur of black and white hurling towards him before he suddenly found a Mokuba attached to him.

"Hey, Atemu! I told you I'd find you!" Mokuba said, grinning. "It was only a matter of time, right? I was on the decks up there when I saw you! My brother'll catch up to us in a minute. Hey, where's your hat?"

Atemu blinked. "Oh… I must have left it in my cabin," he said, reaching up to finger one silken golden bang.

"Heh." Mokuba looked up at his hair, giggling lightly. "It's… weird. And pretty. You're strange, Atemu." He then caught sight of the puzzle. "Wow! You didn't have that last time… Hey, did you see all the mini boats that are on board here?" Mokuba asked, eyes wide as he switched topics without a hitch. "They're… big! Well, not compared to… to this ship, but they're the biggest rowboats I've ever seen! What will they be for?"

"They're in case the ship sinks, Mokuba."

"But all the other passengers say this ship in unsinkable! My big brother says it's too good to be true."

"If it's too good to be true, then it usually isn't," Atemu said dryly. Mokuba looked at him funny, but he finally shrugged, joining the other at the rail, his arms barely reaching it.

"What will happen if this ships sinks?" He finally asked.

"I imagine that they'd evoke the Birkenhead Drill," came the reply.

"… The what?"

"The Birkenhead Drill," Atemu repeated, his brain not registering the fact that this child wouldn't know what he was talking about.

"Oh… What's that?"

Atemu looked surprised, and he was about to explain when someone beat him to it.

"Women and children first." He immediately stiffened, not turning but senses on alert. He recognized that voice, but it was fleeting. He could not put a face to it, and he did not like the fact that this individual had managed to sneak up on him without him hearing.

"Big brother!" Mokuba grinned, running to whoever it was with an excited tone of voice.

"Mokuba."

"Big brother, this is Atemu! The man I told you about? The one who helped me?"

Atemu's one handed rested on the puzzle, surprised to feel it getting even warmer.

"I see," the voice said. Atemu had to suppress a growl. Just as haughty as he'd expected a first-class passenger to be—even more arrogant.

"Atemu, come say hi!"

"I'd really—"

"Please?" He knew it. Just from the tone of voice he knew it. As soon as he turned around to look, Mokuba would be looking at them with those infuriating Yuugi Eyes.

The eyes, the eyes…

He looked.

Damn!

Atemu slowly turned, hand still on the puzzle.

Then all Hell broke loose. However, this time it was more metaphorical, as the only thing they did was glare at each other as if, by sheer strength of will, their adversary would suddenly incinerate on the spot or get their heads bitten off by a high-jumping shark.

What's the word I'm looking for? Ah… irony.

"Well met then, Mr. Atemu."

"Sennen. Atemu Sennen. I assume you are Mr. Kaiba, then?" Atemu asked, trying to control his voice and match the cold disinterest shown in the rich man's tone.

"I'm so proud of you for figuring it out."

"I'm afraid my mental work is only as good as your ability to see what's right in front of you," Atemu replied.

"And that's suppose to mean…?"

"Sod off."

"Wonderful. Had I known it was you Mokuba had been going on about, I would have prohibited this a long time ago."

The glaring war was back on, this time with two times the ferocity, each of them trying to size up their opponent. Mokuba, literally stuck between them, glanced back and forth nervously.

"You two have… met?"

"Sennen has a rather interesting sense of direction."

"Almost as interesting as your sense of preconception."

"I think we're both insulting the same person."

"Now, now, Kaiba, I know you have some issues when it comes to nosing into other people's stuff, but let's not add 'irrational' to that list."

"Umm…" Mokuba shifted, breaking the spell that held the two older males.

Atemu sent the child a look, struggling with an apology. It never paid to insult the older brother of a child you got along with—at least up until that moment.

Ruddy bastard.

Kaiba's eyes—Mmm… lovely blue those are—caught sight of the golden pyramid hanging around Atemu's neck.

"Lovely piece of jewelry. Where'd you steal it from?" he sneered.

"Here and there. See, I raid the storage rooms of rich individuals just for fun sometimes. This particular piece is Egyptian. I stole it from a pharaoh."

"I didn't expect anything more."

"Of course your wouldn't. Your nose is too far buried in your tea and crumpets to notice things like this," Atemu simpered. Kaiba's eye twitched, but other than that he remained still. He still wore the same white trench coat from yesterday, but this time it was undone.

"At least I'm not a low-born piece of third-class trash."

"Actually, big brother, Atemu is travelling in second-class," Mokuba piped up. Kaiba seem to relax when he spoke, something Atemu's sharp eyes picked up on immediately.

Hmm…

"My mistake then," Kaiba finally said, the cold tone back in place. "Second class."

Atemu's fists clenched. Somehow the way Kaiba had said it made it seem even worse.

"Steal your ticket?"

"No, actually. I saved up for it. Not that I expect you to understand, you know, you having your life served to you on a silver platter." His sharps words struck an unexpected home, and suddenly he felt Kaiba grab the front of his shirt, bringing his face close to his own.

Now why does this seem vaguely familiar?

He did not enjoy this, and he let the bitterness and sarcasm creep into his thoughts at the indignant way the taller—much taller—man was handling him with such ease. Curse his short stature!

"Listen, Sennen, if you knew anything about me you wouldn't be making such accusations."

Atemu gasped lightly, his eyes narrowing. Kaiba had grasped the chain of the puzzle!

"Big brother, put him down!" Mokuba said, his voice sounded distressed enough for the elder Kaiba to take notice, roughly thrusting Atemu to the side. The shorter man, not expecting this, landed on his knees roughly, hands braced in front of him. He picked himself up off the deck, growling.

"No brawling on deck, Mr. Kaiba. That's a public offense."

Kaiba shot daggers at him but said nothing.

This meeting is off to a wonderful start.

"Big brother! Atemu! Can't you get along?" Mokuba cried in despair. "Please? You've only just met each other…"

"Actually, I met Mr. Sennen here back on land," Kaiba growled. Atemu's fists clenched. "Just flew out of one of the allies. Running from something?" he mocked.

Atemu cocked his head to the side, though his eyes were narrowed dangerously. "What did we day about saying out of each other's personal lives?"

"Oh? What's a guttersnipe like you got in the way of a personal life?" Kaiba growled.

"Stop!" Mokuba yelled, eyes misty. "Please! Nii-sama, leave Atemu alone! So what if he ran into you? Is it really such a big deal?" Atemu could tell Mokuba wanted to say something to him as well, only he couldn't think of how to word whatever it was he wanted to say.

The Eyes were back. Atemu groaned, but he relaxed himself, looking up at Kaiba, showing that he would comply for Mokuba's sake, but no other, and that the richer man certainly hadn't won this yet.

"I thought I'd never see those eyes again until I met up with my brother," Atemu said, chuckling lightly.

"You have a brother, Atemu?" Mokuba asked.

"Yes. He's married to a famous dancer in New York. I'm on my way to… visit…" Atemu kept his expression neutral. There was no need to mention anything about Dartz or his goons.

"What's his name?"

"Yuugi Mutou. His wife is Téa Mutou, though her stage name is Téa Gardner," he said, smiling to himself. He'd never ask his brother for a loan, even though he knew Yuugi would give it to him in a heartbeat.

He didn't need his younger, successful brother to know what he'd been up to to land himself in this trouble in the first place. Especially since Yuugi had worked so hard to provide for himself and his wife already. Atemu couldn't involve his brother.

"But you have different last names!"

"Yes, Sennen. Different last names," Kaiba challenged.

Atemu shrugged, hoping he did a good job of controlling his sudden bout of panic.

"I needed a new start. I didn't want people giving me special treatment just because my brother was married to a famous dancer," he said feebly.

Right.

The young man shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, glancing around. The real reason? He didn't want Dartz contacting Yuugi or Téa in an effort to get to him. He was a powerful man… he could destroy their happiness. So a quick move, a change of name… Yami Mutou became Atemu Sennen. He was actually fairly surprised that Dartz hadn't made the connection between the two and gone after Yuugi to force Atemu to come up with the money sooner. They shared a striking resemblance to one another.

"Nii-sama took me to see Téa dance once! Is your brother seriously married to her? She's beautiful!" Mokuba said, eyes lighting up. Then he frowned.
"But why aren't you travelling in first class, then? You must be wealthy! Didn't they buy your ticket?"

"Ah…" Atemu shrugged. "Surprise visit; I bought my own."

"That doesn't explain why you settled for second class, Sennen."

"Shut up, Kaiba. It doesn't concern you. I felt like trying something different. Everyone here was saying how staying in second class was supposed to be like staying in a first class hotel. I wanted to see if they were telling the truth."

"And?" Kaiba said, raising one brow.

"They were."

"Well then, Mr. Sennen, if you truly are what you say you are, surely you wouldn't mind joining us for a stroll through first class, hmm?"

"Oh, nii-sama! Maybe he can dine with us later?" Mokuba chirruped happily, his eyes sparkling.

Shit.

"That is, unless you can't make it, hmm?"

Atemu felt his temper rise again at the rather obvious challenge.

But it was a double-edged sword. On one hand, if he didn't go, it would prove he was a coward, and that he was in second class for other reasons. In other words: the truth.

If he said yes he'd be subjected to the Upper Crust. He'd be the single fish in an ocean full of sharks. He'd be theirs to tear apart until there was nothing left… unless he put up a good act.

A lie.

"Name the time and the place," Atemu said, gritting his teeth together. "And I'll be there."

"No need." Kaiba waved his hand. Was that irritation flickering in his eyes? "You are presentable enough for a stroll, but you will need to dig up some finer garments for dinner. Of course, we may have to pretend you're our servant, for the authorities and other first class passengers on board don't particularly like the common folk mixing with the blue bloods," Kaiba drawled, "But we can always pretend you're a servant."

He was met with a flat glare of refusal.

"Or we can try and pass you off as another first class passenger."

Atemu's lip curled. "That'll be fine."

"Will it? As I said before: you'll need finer clothes. I trust you have some?" The millionaire's tone suggested he doubted Atemu had anything like that, even if he had apparently bought the story.

"Of course I do," Atemu said. His masquerade needed costumes, yes. And he had just the one.

"Wonderful, Mr. Sennen. We'll see you then."

-x-

"We have secured a victory, my pharaoh, but at the cost of so many lives…"

He frowned. They continued to contradict him so?

"Tameri is safe, Mahado. That is all that matters."

Ra was no longer high in the sky; the light he bestowed upon Kemet had long since vanished into the more ominous darkness of night, that time where all of mans' fear caught up to him. Inside, the Pharaoh's palace was silent. Back in the city, families were tending to wounded men, and heroes were being recognized. And for the kin of those who had died in battle, there was only sorrow and mourning as they prepared to face the rest of their lives without that particular person.

And he had ordered the charge that brought them to this.

"My pharaoh?"

"Hn." His tongue clicked; he made no sound that could be taken as a satisfactory reply. Instead, he turned back to the young healer who was working on his injuries, head tilting listlessly to the side.

They knew the price they would pay if they fought in his army, and at least their sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

"You reckless, selfish, Ra-be-damned—"

Interrupted, he looked up, meeting the furious eyes of his High Priest.

"How could you have done something so stupid? You could have died!"

"Hush, Seth—I'm fine, aren't I?"

He arched a brow as if to prove his point; drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair he had taken temporary refuge in. Seth was looking at his arm, which was currently wrapped in cloth from the elbow to his wrist, with a couple bandages snaked around his palm in between his thumb and his index finger to mask the gash on his hand. The golden wristband he usually wore had been set aside, still caked with dry blood.

Seth looked as if his head was about to explode.

"What were you thinking?"

He sighed, turning to everyone else in the room. Of course, he still had a couple other injuries to be treated, but he knew that look.

"Excuse me," he said, rising as he dusted off his war-worn tunic. Without a word he walked out of the room, Seth following silently until they entered his personal chambers.

And there he stopped, turned, and prepared to face the wrath of his High Priest.

The next thing he felt was a pair of hungry lips seeking his own.

"Mmm… I thought you were mad at me, my priest."

"I am furious with you, Atemu…"

Their mouths battled against each other, hungry, dominant… It was like Seth was a starving man and only Atemu could satisfy his hunger.

"So very, very furious…"

Atemu moaned as he felt Seth bite the skin on his neck and he tilted his head so that the other would have better access. Hands circled around his waist and he rested his arms on Seth's shoulders, head tilting back even more as Seth continued to bite and suck at sensitive junctures on his skin, especially around his collarbone.

"By Ra, Seth, you insatiable—"

He cut himself off as Seth suddenly bit down harshly before raising his lips to meet Atemu's in a bruising kiss, nibbling lightly on the pharaoh's lower lip.

"Do you know… how worried I was… when you did that?"

"I think I like you better worried," Atemu smirked, pulling Seth's head down for another kiss. This time they broke apart every few moments, savoring the anticipation before diving back in. "You dropped that irritable mask of yours."

"Mask, pharaoh?" Seth smirked against his petite lover before suddenly shoving him back into the wall, pinning his hands above his head by his wrists as he ran his own hand up his sovereign's thigh.

Atemu tried to bite back the moans and harsh pants as Seth's movements became more passionate; more teasing and deliberate.

"Mm… yes… mask…"

Seth didn't answer, instead choosing to tug at Atemu's tunic. "I want this off. Now."

"Oh hush. I am wounded you know. Be gentle."

"You wouldn't be wounded if you hadn't—"

Atemu took the opportunity to lower his hands teasingly down his High Priest's sides, purring in delight as Seth's eyes darkened to a dangerous sapphire blue with the renewed passion. He hummed lightly as he stepped even closer to the man in front of him; pressing his body up against the taller's with yet another lust-filled purr.

Seth growled, the sound ringing with a possessive edge that told anyone who might be listening that the young man in front of him was his and no other's.

"Off," he said again, lightly maneuvering the young pharaoh and pushing him back onto the bed.

"Eager?"

"This is not a good time for any of your games, Atemu."

"My games?" Atemu's reply was almost indignant, but he soon forgot the rest of his retort as Seth's hand slid up his leg and under his tunic before finally pulling the garment off, smirking in satisfaction.

"Mmm… if only your people knew how much of a god you really are…"

"Shut up and kiss me, priest!"

"Forever, my reckless little pharaoh."

["You know," Atemu murmured, reaching up to brush a strand of Seth's chestnut brown hair from his eyes, "that I am the only one allowed to see you like this, right?" He pressed a chaste kiss to his lover's lips. "If anyone else has had the pleasure of even seeing you in such a state, I'm afraid I'd have to kill them."] For the next chapter.