A/N: This story takes place four years after Duelist Kingdom.

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh was created by Kazuki Takahashi

Portrait of a Sleeping Dragon

Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work. - Aristotle

Pegasus stared at the canvas with a growing self loathing. It was a shrub for goodness sake. He had painted a freaking shrub. It was a very realistic depiction of said shrub, but it was a shrub nonetheless. Pegasus felt an overwhelming urge to rip the painting into confetti-sized pieces while reducing the offending flora to a pile of smouldering ashes. Those actions would generate a whole lot of awkward questions concerning his sanity, however.

Instead Pegasus merely sighed. His slouching frame and sad countenance the perfect counterpoint to the colourful nature that enclosed him. He had just finished creating the image of a shrub that, for a reason he could no longer remember, had caught his eye. It seemed that the subjects of his artistic talent grew more boring every day.

Not that there was anything wrong with painting shrubs, he was certain that someone had become very famous by painting shrubs, but the problem was that he did not love shrubs. They did not excite or inspire him. Not like Cecelia had.

Maybe it was a pity that he did not love shrubs. Life on the island would become a lot more tantalising if that had been the case. And less lonely.

Considering the direction his train of thought had taken, Pegasus decided that the white wine he had consumed during today's creative exploits, a refreshing Chablis, had gone to his head.

He gathered his painting supplies and told Croquet - who had been standing in the shade, ready for any possible order - to carry his easel, canvas, and cooler packed with several delicacies.

It was a beautiful early afternoon. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the shrubs were blooming. But Pegasus paid no heed to his surroundings. He was too busy brooding on his latest failed attempt to reawaken his creative spirit.

He freed his sleek, silver hair from the black ribbon with which he had tied it, simply to have something to run his fingers trough as he sauntered dejectedly towards the castle.

Croquet saw the depression tug at Pegasus and could not help but worry. He had hoped that when Pegasus had taken a renewed interest in running Industrial Illusions, that he was managing to leave the worrisome events of Duelist Kingdom behind him.

For some reason, however, Pegasus seemed to think that his enjoyment in painting was irrefutably linked to his enjoyment in life. A ridiculous notion to Croquet, but it was the only explanation he had for the almost maniac way in which his employer was trying to capture each and every feature of the island in oil paint.

He could not see what was wrong with the painting, just as he could not see what was wrong with any of the previous paintings, but he hoped that today's apparent failure would not cause Pegasus to relapse, like he had done almost two years ago. That had not been a pleasant time to be on the island.

The older man sighed and trotted after the once vivacious CEO pausing only to, upon his master's request and against the will of several indignant frogs, dump the painting into a pond.

Once inside the luxurious castle, Pegasus and Croquet made their way to the art room situated in the east wing. It was with great trepidation that Pegasus opened the door. It seemed like every time he entered this place, a more pitiful view greeted him.

He put away his art supplies and glanced around the spacious room. In the meantime, Croquet had placed the easel against a wall and made a soundless exit. There were at least a hundred paintings in here, littered all over the hardwood floor. Big multi-lit windows cascaded them in a clear light.

Pegasus had been quite a wreck after the Duelist Kingdom tournament. As the corruptive effects of the millennium eye disappeared, the awareness of what he had done had hit him hard.

He would be lying, however, if he said he had not felt a flicker of relief as well. Relief knowing that he had done all he could do for his beloved Cecelia. He could try and let go now. He could grieve for her as ... Well, as a sane person.

Not that the grieving process had been easy. Even when Cecelia was not on the forefront of his mind, she and the accompanying heartache were never far off.

He had spent hours holed up in his art room, painting portrait after portrait. Cecelia smiling, laughing, dancing, posing, sitting, gardening, glittering, and from every angle he could think of.

Until, about two years ago, he had come to a realisation that shook his entire being. He was forgetting things. Important things. How her lips curved when she smiled, how her eyes narrowed in humour or anger, how her blonde locks moved as she twirled. He was having difficulties with drawing her properly. Her image was fading and Pegasus had never felt more guilty and ashamed in his life.

When he looked at the recently created paintings, he had flinched with disgust. These were not portraits of Cecelia, these were portraits of other portraits. It suddenly dawned on Pegasus that somewhere along the line he had stopped painting Cecelia based on how he remembered her, but instead relied on previous portraits to know exactly what she looked like.

Pegasus had been horrified. He was making copies. His grieving had been transformed into some sort of mass production.

He had not left his bed for weeks after that.

But after a while, logic took the upper hand and his guilt eased. After all, she had died almost nine years ago. He was mourning for her longer than he had known her. It was only natural that his recollection of her would be fading after all this time.

Pegasus would always treasure Cecelia's memory, but perhaps it was time to move on.

And so he did. He even picked up painting again. No longer willing to paint his past lover, he searched for other subjects. And where better to look, than on his own island. He had started off with grand, breathtaking images: the castle by moonlight, the island's unspoiled coastline, and the forests as seen from a tower window.

The pictures turned out quite pretty, but Pegasus found that his heart was not in the job. Painting these beautiful landscapes helped him to pass the time, yes, but it did not thrill him as it used to do. Even designing new duel monsters had turned into a routine.

He wanted to be passionate about painting again. He wanted to lose track of time as he captured beauty for all eternity.

So Pegasus embarked on a quest to find the missing passion. He painted everything he could think of: sunsets, birds, a variety of mammals, wine bottles, but no luck.

Croquet had suggested that he should try making portraits again, but of other people. He had offered to model himself, but Pegasus had declined, the idea making him uncomfortable. Croquet had seemed oddly offended by this.

And thus Pegasus continued his search by painting flowers, imaginary men and women, several fruit displays, and so on, but all to no avail. He had even tried his hand at painting an abstract. That had probably been the biggest disaster of his career.

So here he was now, having just painted a shrub. Pegasus scoffed. Maybe tomorrow he would paint a rock. And if that failed, he could always try a twig. Pegasus resisted the impulse to smack his head against the wall. A glance at the room's grandfather clock told him that there was no time left for head-smacking, anyway.

With a last self-deprecating sigh, he turned his back on the paintings and made his way to his bedroom chambers. Once there, he changed out of his white linen shirt and olive green trousers and selected a red suit more appropriate for the business meeting he would be having with Kaiba in a few minutes. Although Pegasus had a feeling that the young CEO would not approve of anything he had hanging in his dressing room.

Pegasus did not look forward to seeing Kaiba again. Ever since he, well, tried to kill him, he had trouble looking the boy in the eyes. It is hard to let go of the guilt, if you have quarterly meetings with the object you arguably have hurt the most.

But what were duel monster cards without KaibaCorp's technology? And what were the most advanced duel disks without cards to put into them? So after Pegasus had deemed himself fit enough to be president of Industrial Illusions again, their partnership continued.

From the moment they had first laid eyes on each other again, they acted like nothing had ever happened. Kaiba was his usual frosty self and Pegasus pretended he was as cheerful and frivolous as he had always been.

What happened at Duellist Kingdom was taboo and never discussed. But the truth hovered over them, ever present, and Pegasus wondered if he was the only one uncomfortable. Still, some things are better left unsaid.

When he had seen what Kaiba's Solid Vision could do, he had seen a chance to revive Cecilia, and everything else became irrelevant. Even other people. Even Kaiba. With the millennium eye in his head and his goal in his mind, he had turned ruthless, cold and vindictive.

And now their friendship, because Pegasus had considered them friends, was irreparably damaged.

Croquet's knock on the door alerted him to Kaiba's arrival. Pegasus fastened his suit with efficient speed, plastered a fake smile on his face, and strode down the corridors that would lead him to the entrance hall. After all, it would not do to keep Kaiba-boy waiting, now would it?

What he had done was unforgivable and thus he left Kaiba alone. Oh, the flirtations and innuendo's still rolled off his tongue at alarming speed. That was only his nature. But he no longer reached out to the brunet. He no longer tried to draw him out of his shell. No casual touches, no inside jokes, no personal invitations. He had lost that privilege.

It was for the best.

Kaiba steered his helicopter towards a bush free zone in front of the old castle. Ronald, his right-hand man, was sitting beside him.

Kaiba was not in a good mood. Having a business meeting with Pegasus was one (very annoying) thing, having said meeting on the bastard's island was another. And to top it off, the air conditioning broke mid-flight, transforming the cockpit into the ninth circle of hell.

Pity that he did not trust his employees. If he did, someone else could have gone to discuss business with Pegasus in his place.

It was not only an inconvenience – did Pegasus not realise how much time he wasted by flying over here, not to mention by climbing those ridiculous endless stares towards the castle – it was also plain unnerving.

Every time he set foot on the island, old feelings came rushing back to him. The terror of being bereaved of Mokuba, the shame of not being able to save him, the humiliation of having to be rescued by the geek-squad, ... Kaiba closed his eyes for a second. He really hated this place.

And then there were other pesky emotions, ones that the young CEO would not admit having under any form of torture. He had always thought Pegasus to be exasperating, frivolous, and way to cheerful, but he was also sharp, intellectual and creative. Kaiba had grudgingly admired that.

After being neglected by his family and abused by his adoptive father, it had felt good to meet someone who trusted his abilities, was awed by his inventions, and put faith into his business skills. Most of his business associates did not always take him seriously because of his age, but not Pegasus. Pegasus had gone out of his way to talk to him, extending invitations to dual monsters competitions, business dinners, and whatnot.

While Kaiba never particularly liked the man and his overly dramatic ways, he had always assumed that their working relationship was based on mutual respect. Maybe even on a friendship of some kind. Which was not to say Kaiba trusted Pegasus. He already knew he could trust no one but himself and Mokuba.

Nevertheless, Pegasus's betrayal had hurt. Kaiba's believe that friends are for the weak, had only strengthened after that. If not trusting anyone meant that he and Mokuba would be safer, than that was the price he would pay.

Kaiba saw Pegasus waiting for him by the bottom of the castle's stairs, his long silver hair blowing in the wind of the rotor blades. He landed the helicopter and turned off the engine.

Kaiba left the scorching hot cockpit behind him, only for the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun to hit him in the face. Great. He disliked tropical temperatures like these. They made him slower, less sharp. And if there ever was a place to be on guard, it was this one.

He smoothed his deep-blue suit, and made his way towards Pegasus, silver briefcase in hand.

Like always, he would just pretend that what happened at Duellist Kingdom had not even remotely affected him. He had never cared for Pegasus in the slightest, and he hadn't been hurt by his actions at all.

It was for the best.

Pegasus greeted him with a smile and a proffered hand. "Kaiba-boy! I hope your trip was enjoyable."

Kaiba shook the hand and tried not to react to the use of Pegasus's nickname for him. "It would've been more enjoyable if you finally had a helicopter pad built on this place," he said tersely.

"Now, now, Kaiba. We've been over this. I will not ruin this magnificent island's integrity for your convenience. Not even if you ask nicely."

"I suppose a landing strip is completely out of the question then," Kaiba muttered.

"Quite. Besides, do I need to remind you that it was you who wanted this meeting on my week off? You can hardly blame me for having to travel to my private residence."

Kaiba gave him a level look. "You have more days off than you actually go to work. Excuse me for intruding upon you like this," he said unapologetically, "but unlike yours, my schedule is actually full. I don't have time to put off meetings until you decide to do a bit of work. How your company is still standing is beyond me."

"Kaiba-boy, you wound me," Pegasus exclaimed mockingly, "but don't fret, next meeting it'll be my turn to make the trip. Perhaps if you find yourself travelling to and from this island again, you could follow my example and go by boat. It's very relaxing."

"I don't need relaxing," Kaiba snapped. "Let's just finish this thing. I don't want to loiter here all day."

"It's always all work and no play with you, isn't it Kaiba-boy?" Pegasus got a glare as response. He sighed. "Very well, follow me."

The couple made the long trip up the steps towards the castle in an uncomfortable silence. At least, Pegasus admitted to himself that it was uncomfortable. Kaiba had convinced himself that he was glad that the older man had finally shut up.

Inside the castle, Pegasus led Kaiba towards a conference room. He had to mind himself not to guide the young man by the shoulder. Or the small of his back.

Three hours later, the meeting was finished. Despite a few teasing remarks and thinly veiled insults, both parties remained relatively unscathed. Pegasus was munching happily on the cubes of gorgonzola Croquet had provided. Kaiba placed his documents back inside the briefcase, his mood slightly improved. The meeting had been a success and, more importantly, it was over. Now he only had to get off this island.

Kaiba rose and reached for his jacket. Pegasus took this as his cue to rise as well.

"I'll be leaving now," Kaiba said curtly.

"Of course my dear Kaiba-boy. Let me escort you to your helicopter."

"Being senile is your thing, Pegasus. I know the way back."

"I have no doubt about that, but what kind of host would I be if I didn't accompany you, hmm?"

Kaiba bit back a growl. "Whatever. I suppose a few more minutes with you won't kill me."

"Now, now. Be nice," Pegasus wagged a finger at him, "we have just reached an accord that will be lucrative to us both, I believe. This is a joyous occasion."

Kaiba gave a grunt as response and left for the exit, Pegasus and Roland following close behind.

Having arrived at the helicopter, Kaiba and Roland entered the aircraft without sparing the older CEO another glance. As the helicopter had been standing in the sun for almost four hours, the cockpit was a veritable greenhouse. Kaiba put his briefcase and jacket away, chucked his silk tie on the headrest of his seat, and undid the top three buttons of his white shirt. He already felt sweat pearling on his brow. He started the engine and the blades began to rotate.

Pegasus raised his hand. "Have a nice flight, Kaiba-boy! Tata!"

His goodbye was barely audible above the sound of the helicopter, not that this mattered as Kaiba was not planning on responding.

The aircraft lifted and away they went... Well, for a little while at least. After one measly minute of flying, the navigation system shut down. Cerulean eyes stared in alarm at the dashboard. Shit.

He could not traverse the Pacific Ocean like this, could he? Kaiba shook his head. No, he could not. No matter how much he wanted to. He glanced at Roland, who was sweating profusely. Kaiba did not know whether this was because of the high temperature or nerves. Probably both.

He had no choice but to try and land on the island. He growled. This day was rapidly becoming a nightmare. Well, he guessed that was untrue. It was already half past five, after all.

He looked down in front of him and next to him. Where to land? At this point, the island seemed to be all tree and rock. Perhaps he should push further to the coast line to find a nice stroke of sand.

If only he had not been so hasty to leave Pegasus's presence. He should have taken the time to fix the air-conditioning. The navigation system must have overheated. He could simply kick himself.

They were nearing the northern edge of the island and a beach was stretched out underneath them, the white sand twinkling in the sunlight.

The landing went effortlessly. The two men remained seated for a minute longer, their breathing the only sound. Kaiba's cell-phone ring pierced the silence without pardon. He picked it up. "Problems, Kaiba-boy?" a familiar voice drawled. The blue-eyed billionaire crushed the device with the heal of his foot. Probably not the wisest course of action, but it felt oh so good.

The two leaped out of the helicopter and onto the hot sand. A soft coastal breeze provided them with some much needed relieve. The azure blue sea made a stunning view and the gentle waves lapping over the shore lulled them into a tranquil state.

It took Kaiba about a second to snap out of it. He rolled up his sleeves and went back to the helicopter in order to fix the air conditioning. If the cockpit reached a more humane temperature, the navigation system should be able to start up again. He just hoped that it was an easily fixable problem, as he did not have a lot of tools to work with.

As soon as he could see the inner workings of the air conditioning, however, it became clear that he would be needing some spare parts. Spare parts that he did not have. Angrily, he threw his screwdriver away and joined Roland on the beach. The latter had rolled up his pants and was wading through the ocean. Kaiba harrumphed. Well, at least someone was having fun.

Kaiba was in no mood to go back towards the castle, nor did he want to call for other transportation and leave his helicopter behind. He decided it was better to wait here a few hours, until the temperatures dropped enough for them to leave safely.

He sought out a spot in the shade and sat down, leaning against a tree. To his great consternation he discovered that he had sand in his shoes. He removed his shoes and socks and stretched his toes. Much better.

Kaiba hated to admit it, but this was almost nice. Perhaps he should listen to Mokuba and go on holiday more often... Or once. He undid another two buttons of his white shirt, rolled up his pants until they reached the middle of his calves, and closed his eyes. Yes, nice.

"Kaiba-boy! Finally I've managed to track you down."

Kaiba grinded his teeth. Perhaps if he kept his eyes shut, he would go away.

"Kaiba dear, it's not polite to ignore company," Pegasus spoke as if to a child.

Kaiba opened one eye and spotted him a few feet away, still in that ridiculous outfit of his. "What do you want," he snarled irritated.

"My, what do you think Kaiba-boy? I was worried of course." Kaiba scoffed at this. "Imagine my surprise when I saw you land again on this island. I thought something had happened."

"Something did happen. A few systems overheated and shut down, nothing I can't handle. So you can run along now. There's no need to pretend to care."

Kaiba went back to ignoring the man, but Pegasus would not let that happen.

"First of all, I do care. Second of all, if you can handle it, why are you sitting on your ass, scrumptious though it may be? Do not say that the almighty creator of Solid Vision is incapable of fixing an itty-bitty helicopter," Pegasus taunted.

Kaiba stood up angrily. "No, I am saying that the almighty creator of Solid Vision does not have the necessary tools to fix the itty-bitty helicopter," he said gruffly, silently not believing that he had just used the word 'itty-bitty'.

Pegasus clasped his hands together. "Well there's nothing for it then. Off to the castle with you."

Kaiba shot him a glare. "Excuse me?"

"What else are you going to do, swim home?"

"Well I was planning to wait for the weather to cool down, but your suggestion sounds more tempting by the minute."

"Do not be ridiculous Kaiba-boy. Let us all go to the castle and you can leave tomorrow morning when it's not as hot. Now hurry up, you already made me wait for dinner."

Kaiba folded his arms across his chest, his glare becoming glacial. "I Am Not Moving."

Pegasus was becoming annoyed now. "Do stop glaring at me Kaiba-boy. Someone as young and pretty as you, should not be getting wrinkly eyes already. But I do applaud you for your suggestion."

Kaiba was immediately on guard. "My suggestion?"

"Yes, to remain on the beach! It's a wonderful day after all. We could have a picnic. I will send Croquet for some food and... Kaiba, where are you going?"

"To the bloody castle," he barked, stomping towards its general direction. Roland was hot on his tail, carrying both pairs of shoes.

Pegasus allowed himself a small grin. Oh Kaiba-boy, so young and so predictable. He followed the hot-tempered CEO towards the castle in a more dignified pace.

He wondered if inviting Kaiba to stay overnight was a good idea. After all, he had been glad to get rid of him. Of the guilt. But when Pegasus had seen him standing there, showing more skin than ever before, his blue eyes ablaze, he could not help himself. Something inside him had sparked to life. He wanted the contact with Kaiba that he denied himself.

Pegasus sighed. That kid was going to be the death of him.

It was seven o'clock when they re-entered the richly decorated hall. Kaiba felt positively bedraggled. He was sticky all over, there was sand everywhere and his normally neatly kempt hair was a tousled mess. He hated looking anything less than professional perfection in front of his enemies, but it seemed that all the elements were ganging up on him.

He just wanted to go home.

"As we're a bit tardy for dinner, we should get a move on. I didn't count on having a guest, but I am sure that the chef has made enough for both of us. Roland
doesn't mind eating with the rest of the staff, does he? I think you'll enjoy dinner, Kaiba-boy, the man is absolutely talented."

"Pegasus, do stop rambling like an old coot. I have agreed to spend the night, but I have no intention to be in your company any more than necessary. Just show me to a room, ok?"

"But Kaiba-boy, you do have to eat something."

"Then send it to my room."

"This is not a hotel, Kaiba!" Pegasus snapped. He could see, though, that the young man was annoyed – well, when was he not – and tired. He proceeded a bit more gently. "It's only dinner, Kaiba-boy. Do a lonely man a favour and accompany him, hmm? I promise I will be on my best behaviour," he added mischievously.

Kaiba was getting a headache. It was probably just easier to go along with what Pegasus wanted, than to have to hear him moan about it.

"Fine," he said, almost sulkily.

"Excellent!" Pegasus could already feel his good spirits returning. "But I'll escort you all to your guestrooms first, so you can tidy up a bit. After all, this is a classy place," Pegasus said with a twinkle in his visible eye, giving Kaiba the once over, "I cannot have your running around my castle looking like a half naked vagabond."

Kaiba's face flushed an angry red. "Excuse me? What on earth are you talk-"

"Now, now, Kaiba-boy", Pegasus gleefully interrupted him, "it's not that I don't appreciate your new dishevelled look, but there's a time and a place. And during dinner at my French antique dining table, is not it. Although," Pegasus cupped Kaiba's cheek in his palm and whispered into his ear, "may I suggest keeping your shirt unbuttoned. It looks rather fetching."

Kaiba shoved the offending man away. "Stay away from me," he whispered threateningly. Kaiba turned on his heel and stalked off. How hard could it be to find a room with a bed in, anyway?

After Pegasus had regained his balance, a spell of awkwardness descended upon the entrance hall and both its occupants. Pegasus scraped his throat and nodded to Roland. "I will show you to the staff's dining area."

Roland, unsure as to what to do in this situation, decided it was probably best to follow the man, rather than to go on a wild goose chase after his short-tempered employer.

They walked in silence. Pegasus knew he had gone too far. Even when their relationship was at its best, Kaiba had never been susceptible to his flirting and innuendos. Now with things the way they were... Despite that it was meant in good humour, he should not have said those words, and he definitely should not have touched him like that.

He sighed. What to do now?

Kaiba found himself fuming in the most spacious bedroom he had ever seen. Minimalism was a concept Pegasus was clearly unfamiliar with.

Ignoring the opulent decor, Kaiba opened a door on the left. It led to an ensuite. When he switched on the light, he was greeted by white and black marble tiles (which he thought to be a cliché), golden taps (which he found tacky), and Ancient Greece inspired murals of male and female nudes (he did not know what to think of this).

Kaiba quickly shed his dirty clothes and when his bare feet touched the tiles, he was pleasantly surprised that they were warm. The floor must be heated, he thought.

He was automatically making his way towards the shower cubicle, when he stopped. He glanced at the big, gleaming bath that rested on golden lion claws. There really was no need for a shower. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he had all the time in the world. He went to the bath and let the water running.

Waiting for the bath to fill, he was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he was standing naked in Pegasus's castle. Uncomfortable, he shifted his weight from leg to leg, whishing the sparkling white monstrosity to be filled already.

To have something to do, he started rummaging through the cupboards in search of shampoo. He found a lot more. Soaps, creams, salves, oils, lotions, aftershaves, perfumes, and products Kaiba honestly did not know what to do with.

He sincerely hoped that this was indeed a guestroom and that he had not trundled unawares in Pegasus's private chambers. Dismissing that unpleasant thought, he decided to focus on the shampoos and soaps.

In the end, the brunet selected an almond bar of soap and a shampoo that promised to make his hair silky smooth with a healthy shine. On a whim, he threw a handful of green bath salt in the water. The fresh fragrance of pine wafted through the air.

Lowering himself in the warm water, he could not help but hum appreciatively. Apart from washing his hair and lathering his long limbs, he was content to just soak for a while. Kaiba even wondered whether he should allow for more of these relaxing, but unproductive moments. He blamed the pine-scented fumes.

Still, all good things must come to an end. When the water turned cold, Kaiba decided it was time to get out of the bath.

Having dried himself off, he looked critically at his reflection in a golden rimmed mirror. Fingers ran through russet brown locks. Just what he thought. His hair was neither silkier nor shinier. Well, perfection was hard to improve of course.

Not wanting to put his sticky clothes back on, Kaiba searched for an alternative. The only item he found, however, was a robe in a shade of red that reminded him entirely too much of the outfit of a certain gray-haired lunatic pretending to be a CEO. Instead he donned a fluffy white towel.

Returning to the bedroom, Kaiba opened the French windows that led to the balcony. The air was still hot and humid, sizzling on his damp, bare skin. The sun was setting. Deep, burning colours streaked the darkening sky. It really was a beautiful view.

He could watch the sunset any time he wanted. He worked late enough anyway. So why didn't he?

A knock on the door interrupted his musings. Thinking it was Pegasus, irritation flared anew. Opening the door, however, he only saw a trolley loaded with food. There were several covered dishes, elegant silverware, and an iced bottle of wine. A slender vase containing a single rose completed the picture. Kaiba raised an eyebrow at that last one.

Rolling the trolley inside, Kaiba tried not to wonder how Pegasus knew where he was. He tried equally hard to quell any unwanted gratitude for Pegasus's decision to send the food to his room after all.

Kaiba unloaded the cart and put the items on a low, lacquered coffee table. The table was in front of a big fireplace. Something he would not be needing this time of year. Grabbing a pillow from a heavy armchair, he seated himself on the floor.

The first thing he uncovered was a silver platter carrying four blinis topped with sour crème and black caviar. He put one of the fluffy, little pancakes in his mouth, and he could not help but to close his eyes in enjoyment at the rich taste. The wine was quickly uncorked to accompany the Russian delicacies.

Licking the last bit of cream from his fingers, Kaiba removed the lid from the plate carrying the main course: beef filet. His favourite. He sincerely hoped that it was just a coincidence, and not something Pegasus had remembered from the past.

Having finished the dish with relish, the Kaiba turned his attention to the last silver cloche. A ramekin containing crème brûlée appeared, with a side dish of chocolate dipped strawberries.

The French desert crackled pleasantly when the spoon breached its sugary surface and soon the creamy goodness was no more. Popping the last plump berry in his mouth, Kaiba refilled his glass and made his way back to the balcony, the thick plush carpet tickling his feet.

The moon had replaced the sun and a myriad of stars twinkled down at him. In Domino it was too light to see more than a few. He had forgotten how stunning they could be.

The stifling heat had made way for a warm, yet more agreeable temperature. The occasional soft breeze was pleasantly refreshing. Kaiba's hand moved from the balcony railing to his stomach, softly stroking the taut skin.

He was not used to eating this much. The only time he ordered a three course dinner was in the company of businessmen. And even then he barely touched his food, being too focused on the matter at hand. Food was just something one needed to live. He ate while doing more important things or in front of the television when Mokuba asked him to. He had never thought of it as an experience to be savoured.

He took another sip. Maybe he was living too fast. Maybe he should spend some moments away from work or duelling. Maybe, just maybe. The brunet shook his head rapidly, as to chase away a fly. Yeah, and be as pampered as Pegasus was. No, thank you.

Pegasus. Now there was an annoying topic. He hated the man, that much was clear. It was the only sane sentiment one could feel towards someone who stole your soul.

But things just weren't that simple.

Sometimes he wondered about Pegasus. Had the man always hated him and just waited for the perfect time to make his move? Or had Pegasus genuinely liked him before betraying him? And how did Pegasus see him now? An enemy, a business partner, a victim? Surely not a friend? Even Pegasus can't be that deluded.

Yet he still treated Kaiba as he always had. As he had before Duellist Kingdom. Sure, he didn't receive any personal invitations anymore, and when they would meet at an event they kept their interactions to a minimum, but when they had to spend time together – like today – Pegasus was the same frivolous, flirty guy he used to know.

What did that mean? Was it just a charade? To what end? He already knew Pegasus's true colours.

Sometimes he wanted to ask these questions, but he didn't. That would mean he cared. And he didn't. Obviously.

And then there was the room-service. The entire picture – the rose, the strawberries, his favourite dish – was entirely too romantic. Even though Kaiba knew that Pegasus was only playing him, it made him feel uncomfortable. The question was why? And since when was he taking it so personally? Pegasus flirted with everyone and everything. It didn't mean anything. It never meant anything.

It was so frustrating to be in this castle. He never knew what to expect. First thing tomorrow, he was gone. Far away from Pegasus. With that thought in mind, he went back inside. He left the French windows open for some fresh air.

The growing darkness outside had bathed the room in a multitude of blue hues. It was oddly soothing.

The day's events and the heavy meal had made him quite tired. Normally, he would stay up much later than this. He could not go to bed already, could he? There were things to be done. Things which were all located far away from here. Why had he not brought his laptop? Kaiba growled, annoyed with himself.

Well there was only one thing for it, then. He fixed his eyes on the main element in the room: a huge four-poster bed. He could either go to sleep or wander through the castle. As the first scenario promised a minimum of death traps and encounters with Pegasus, it was the one he chose.

He opened the silver-grey curtains and beheld what was inside. Who needed that many cushions? There was more cushion than bed. It was simply ridiculous. The first thing Kaiba did was to throw all the soft squares and rectangles on the floor, keeping only one simple pillow.

Next he chucked the black furs, the delicate white throw and the heavy grey blanket, until all that remained were thin silk sheets. They were a dark oily blue colour and shimmered like water.

Kaiba reluctantly sat on the bed, whishing he was somewhere else. He left the curtains open, so as not to feel too enclosed. Well, at least time flew when asleep. He got rid of his towel and crawled to the middle of the bed.

He had to admit that the mattress was really comfortable. If he had not been Seto Kaiba, he might have tried to bounce on it. The fabric underneath him was so soft to the touch, it seemed to be beckoning him to rest upon it. He idly wondered if it was Egyptian cotton. He pulled the delicate silken sheets over the lower part of his body. They felt delicious against his warm bare skin, like a cool liquid caress.

Kaiba let himself fall back on the bed and as his head was softly cushioned by the pillow, it was hard to suppress a smile. Hard, but not impossible. Damn Pegasus and all his decadent luxuries, he grumpily thought as he nodded off slowly.

Pegasus was strolling to the room he knew Kaiba had holed himself up in. He was going to check whether Kaiba had at least eaten the food he had left for him.

Arriving at the double doors, he saw that the trolley had disappeared. Well, that was a good sign. Pegasus paused a moment in indecisiveness. Should he enter? He got what he came for, after all. There was no reason to disturb Kaiba's peace. Except for that he wanted to. Maybe he could persuade Kaiba to take a nightcap with him.

Opening the door with that thought in mind, he was surprised to find the room doused in darkness. Surely Kaiba had not gone to bed already?

But he had. Pegasus eyes were glued to the focal point of the room. Normally that would have been the four-poster. Tonight, it was something even better: a four-poster containing the most stubborn, rude, asocial, and stunning man he had ever met.

Ivory skin peeped from the shadows like moonlight filtered though trees. Flashes of angular shoulder, sharp hipbone, and toned stomach shone through the darkness. His body lay twisted in the sheets, a leg bare for anyone to see, his face turned softly to the side.

Pegasus mind was buzzing, his heart thumping, and his adrenaline racing. Possessed by a muse he long thought gone, the artist urged himself into action.

Grinning like a maniac, he sprinted towards his art room. Heavily panting, partly from running, partly from excitement, he gathered his painting supplies. With trembling fingers he reached for an empty canvas that was just the perfect size.

Having returned to Kaiba's room, he had to stop and catch his breath. Willing himself to be calm en collected, he dragged a stool to the position that would allow him to paint the perfect picture.

As quietly as possible, he commenced.

He had never drawn something this dark: all black and blue. The only parts visible of Kaiba were those illuminated by the moonlight, bluish white shards that gave him a peek of something very intimate.

Pegasus knew that the topic was hardly original: a nude posed on a bed, covered with some sheets. And yet each brush stroke made him more excited.

He worked feverishly into the night. Naked flesh that disappeared under the sheets or in the darkness. A nipple, visibly erect. Vulnerable. Sharp lines and soft skin. Oily silk – clinging and caressing, possessing and displaying.

The sound of the rinsing of his brushes, of the squirting of paint, of his own breathing... They all seemed louder than normal.

Pegasus pushed himself further and further. His mind focused and yet in bliss. He could not help but smiling.

He worked all through the night and at long last it was finished. Pegasus stood up and took a step back. He was happy.

He carefully lifted the canvas from the easel and carried it to a nearby room to dry. Not wanting to make the trip to the art room, he temporarily deposited his painting supplies there as well.

Still smiling, Pegasus went to his study. He switched on a floor lamp that produced a dim, warm light. He poured himself a snifter of brandy and plumped himself down on a leather armchair, tired but satisfied.

Sipping his drink, Pegasus basked in the old familiar feeling of a painting well done. But more so than to the reappearance of his muse, his thoughts kept returning to a certain sleeping individual.

He could not do this anymore. He could no longer keep his distance from Kaiba. He wanted things to be as they were before the 'accident.' No, that would be a lie. He wanted to be even closer to him. He wanted for Kaiba not to feel like he had to be on guard around him. He wanted to tease him and flirt with him and help him to open up. He wanted Kaiba to trust him ... and to like him.

But how? How can you possible make amends with someone whom you have tried to kill? Sure he could always blame the millennium eye, but Kaiba would never have any of that. Then again, people try to kill him all the time. Perhaps he does not even care anymore.

Pegasus rolled his eye. Yes, that was likely.

But still, he had to try and do something, something to break the ice between them. Perhaps he could offer him a glass of one of his finest wines or a horseback ride along the shores of the island? Pegasus chuckled. Kaiba would not accept any of those things. Not yet anyway. But he might accept a sincere and overdue apology, Pegasus mused. Especially if he left out all the 'Kaiba-boys'.

He looked out the window. The sun, while still in hiding, was announcing its arrival by tinting the sky a warm orange. Pegasus stood up and steeled himself for a new day, the deliverance of a perfect apology, and hopefully a new beginning.

And who knew, perhaps if he played his cards right, more portraits would follow ... of a conscious Kaiba ... with perhaps a little less sheet.

Pegasus smirked. Fortunately, he was rather good at card games.

The End

A/N: Well, what did you guys think? It's my first fic in English and my first attempt at Toonshipping, so I'm pretty nervous about this one. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. What works, what doesn't? And is my English good enough, or is my non-native-speakerness glaringly obvious? Please review and let me know. Thanks!