Title: Final Distance
Authors: Pysche and Dragon
Pairings: Seth/Atemu and Seto/Yami (maybe a few others)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: We do not own YGO or anything else but the plot.
Warnings: Just be prepared for anything lol with us two writing there is no telling what could happen.
Summary: Atemu and Yami are twin foreign exchange students to the States. There they meet another set of twins, Seth and Seto, and turn the Kaibas' lives upside down

Chapter 1

The hot Atlanta heat smothered everyone, causing them to seek refuge under any available shade or air-conditioned building they could find. New and old students alike walked around in a hazy daze as if the muggy southern heat had zapped all the strength from them.

Sharp azure eyes narrowed against the harsh sun, silently scrutinizing every person that came into his field of vision. He shivered slightly as a small breeze sent a few drops of moisture from the massive art-student-designed fountain behind him and his twin brother. Absentmindedly, he scooted a bit further away on the fountain's concrete ledge, grimacing at the sound of blue jeans scratching against the rough surface.

Another year had begun and he and his twin, Seto, found themselves right back where they had spent many a day just sitting around looking at the sea of students who walked by. It was a game of theirs – to see if they could tell how rich a person was by looking at their clothes or the way they presented themselves. As cold as it may seem, it worked wonders as a way to keep their minds off of school stress; that and the Kaiba twins were known to be cold anyway so why not live up to it?

If there was one thing that irritated them beyond anything it was people trying to get on their good side, trying to buddy up with them, trying to even talk to them. Seth and Seto only associated with each other. No one else deserved their attention; no one was good enough to be with them or was even in their league.

But luckily this year, they were sophomores and everyone from last year would know to leave them alone all they had to do was train the new ones now.

Another good thing about being here for the second year was they didn't have to live in those cramped dorm rooms. They now had a spacious two-bedroom apartment in the city, designed and furnished to fit their tastes. The wonders of being rich and coming from a well-to-do family, the benefits were great.

A small bead of sweat trailed down Seth's back causing his to grab the front of his white Hugo Boss t-shirt and fan it, letting the makeshift breeze cool him some. He was just about to close his eyes and try to think cooling thoughts when a flash of color caused him to look sharply to the left near the entrance to the university.

Azure eyes went wide as he took in the form of a slim male standing on the sidewalk looking around as if trying to find someone. Seth's eyes trailed up the other's body starting with the black cowboy boots, up the tight blue jeans that hugged what looked like well-toned legs, to the firm backside, slim waist, to the nicely developed chest that was covered in a deep blood red t-shirt. Unable to see the male's face yet, he looked at the strange ebony-tipped hair with crimson spikes.

Curious.

Intrigued, he quickly elbowed his slightly younger brother in the side.

"Ow! What the fuck Seth?"

Rolling his eyes, Seth jerked his head in the direction of his new discovery. "What do you make of that one?"

With a growl, Seto leaned forward, peering around his older twin, and raised an eyebrow. "The freaky looking punk over there with the strange hair?" A nod in response. "Poor; at best middle class. A waste of time." He said then turned back to look at the book he had been looking at earlier before he got interrupted.

With a frown, Seth looked back at the male and almost gasped when he saw that the male in question was now looking straight at him with the most unusual narrowed crimson eyes. Blonde bangs gently framed the bronzed handsome face and those eyes… were not only beautiful, but deadly, if that heated glare sent his way was any indication.

Their gazes were locked in a strange battle before the stranger did something that Seth had never seen thrown his way before. The male shot him a bird and then turned around and walked away. A dark eyebrow rose. No one had ever dared to do that to him before.

Interesting.

"Wonder where he's from?" Seth mumbled to himself as he continued to stare at the now vacant space.

"Who knows, who cares." Backing away his book, Seto stood up and grabbed his dark blue backpack and slung it up on his shoulder. "Come on lets go. It's hot as hell and classes are about to start."

With a nod of his head, Seth grabbed his own backpack and followed his brother into the building.

Seto sank back into his seat, feet skidding a little on the carpet as he stretched. These classes never got any more interesting. If there weren't so much money to be made in business he would change his major to something a little more stimulating. The blue-eyed male frowned a bit and took a sip of his Pepsi bottle before turning his attention back to the crisply dressed professor at the front of the front of the room and beginning to scribble a few notes in his notebook. Maybe the caffeine would help him pay attention.

Business… the classes were boring, that was true, and all the same – listening to someone lecture for hours while he sat in desks of varying degrees of discomfort and took notes. Dull, to say the least, yet Seto knew that was what he wanted to do. There was an inexplicable thrill in business, in the feeling of power that came from controlling a company, in creating and designing a product that the public couldn't live without, once his marketing team convinced them of it, of course.

It was what his father did, not that that encouraged Seto to follow in the old man's footsteps. He and Seth both hated the bastard; he was an intolerant old snob who had raised the twins to be the antisocial jerks they were today, though in all fairness Seto was comfortable with that icy persona. It made things a lot easier.

Seth, on the other hand… Sometimes Seto got the feeling that his brother would change, if he had the right initiative. The slightly older twin worried Seto a bit sometimes; for example, his interest in that poorly-dressed punk by the fountain that morning. Seth had seemed to see something in him; at least he had made more of an effort to point him out to Seto than he normally would have. Though, the blue-eyed business student had to admit, that punk was sexy. And it was funny as hell when he flipped off his brother.

Sexy, yes, but not Seto's type. If anyone actually was.

"Okay students, you've got your syllabuses, so I don't want anyone telling me they didn't know a project was due. I don't take late assignments. There's a list of all the supplies you'll need for the course on the back of the syllabus, and I expect you all to have them when we meet again on Wednesday, and we'll spend the next class period doing some hands-on work. I trust you're all eager to get started painting."

A murmur of assent rose from the class, including a smattering of a few polite chuckles. Yami smiled faintly, brushing the blonde bangs from his face as they fell in his eyes for the hundredth time that morning, blocking his view of the professor. "Also," the man continued, tugging uncomfortably on his bowtie, "this is probably the only time during the entire course we'll be using these desks. The rest of the time you'll be at your easels. This won't be a lecture course." More smiles appeared among the students, and the professor grinned in return. "Now, so that the day won't be completely wasted, let's spend the rest of the class in discussion. Why don't you move the desks into a circle?"

Yami raised an eyebrow, his deep crimson eyes widening in surprise. This was the first class of his college career, and he hadn't been sure what to expect, but whatever it was this wasn't it. He and his twin brother Atemu had recently moved here from Costa Rica and enrolled as freshmen here at Emory. They were so happy to be accepted, since the school had a great reputation, plus the added excitement of living in the States. Yami didn't even mind being far from home, since he was with his brother. Though he supposed the homesickness hadn't had time to sink in yet.

At any rate, he had expected the school to be enormous and unfriendly, with difficult courses taught by aloof, unapproachable professors; not this open young man with an ugly bowtie who smiled at them and urged them to get to know each other. "So," the professor said once the squeaking of desks across the tile floor had subsided and the students had settled in their seats once more, "why don't you all tell me who is your favorite artist and why? What is it about their work that makes them good?"

A girl with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail raised her hand shyly, and the professor nodded at her. "Well, this might be a predictable answer," she began hesitantly, "but Picasso is my favorite artist. He just has so much emotion; it feels really honest…"

As the girl continued, a few students nodding along as she spoke, Yami relaxed into his seat and smiled faintly once more. No, it hadn't been what he expected; but it was nice.

Atemu sighed as he flopped down into one of the chairs at the double-seated table and dragged his notebook and pen out of his book bag. Placing his elbow on the cool surface, he rested his chin in the palm of his hand and glanced around the room.

It wasn't anything special really, nothing like the colleges he had seen in the few American movies he and his brother had watched. Come to think of it, America wasn't anything like he expected. He scrunched his nose. For one thing, the air stunk. It was nothing like the pure, cleansing smell of his home. And around here, there was nothing but building after building. Where were the land, trees, and wildlife?

He sighed, realizing he missed his home more than he thought he would. It wasn't that he missed his parents, hell they were never really home to begin with. But this place, Atlanta, was… suffocating. Absentmindedly, he began to tap his pen against the tabletop and closed his eyes.

"That's annoying as hell ya know."

Atemu opened his eyes and turned to look at the person who had spoken. He raised any eyebrow. Well that was interesting…it wasn't every day you saw a young man with long white hair. Of course it wasn't as if his hair was an everyday occurrence either.

"Hope you don't mind me sitting here. And if you do, I don't give a damn."

Atemu snorted, stopped the supposedly annoying tapping of his pen and turned to look the cocky brown-eyed stranger in the eyes. "And your name would be?"

"Bakura…what's your name?"

"Atemu."

"Hey, you're not from around here are you?"

"Wow, I didn't realize I was lucky enough to be sitting beside the local genius. Now I know why I came to this country."

"Local genius? No, that title belongs to two people, one of whom is currently staring at you."

"Huh?" Atemu turned around and looked in the direction those narrowed chocolate eyes were looking to see familiar azure before he turned back towards his table partner. "Who the hell is that anyway? I caught him staring at me earlier outside."

"That would be Seth 'playboy' Kaiba. His father owns BP Global. He and his twin think they are 'The Shit'."

Atemu nodded his head. He had no idea what a 'playboy' was but he could gather enough to know that he was trouble. Great, just what he needed.

"So where are you from anyways?"

"Heredia, Costa Rica."

"Damn you're a long way from home. Explains the accent though."

"Yeah."

"You speak pretty good English."

"Both English and Spanish are spoken in Costa Rica." He shrugged his shoulders and then he felt something. "Is he looking at me again?" he asked with a growl.

Bakura leaned around Atemu and nodded his head. "Yeah, pretty hard too. What the hell did you do to him? The Kaibas usually ignore anyone not in their league."

"This." And with that he turned around and flipped the older brother off again, sending Bakura into a fit of laughter at Seth's narrowed eyes.

"I'm going to like you Atemu." He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, before he spoke again. "There's a party going on tonight. Why don't you come with me? I could introduce you to some of the non-staring types."

"An American party? I'd like to but I'm not going to going to leave my brother alone."

"You got a brother?"

"Yeah, we're twins."

"Cool, well then invite him too. The more the merrier."

"OK then." Oh Yami was going to freak.

"Welcome to Cultural Anthropology and our first lesson in Introduction to Human Evolution. Today we begin…."