Note: This story takes place in my "Eternal Nile" universe. It's set some time after "Reflections in the Nile." The first line came from an "adopt a first line" thread on the NaNoWriMo forums last year. For additional story notes on any of my fan fiction, please visit my Livejournal.

Marked

By Lucidscreamer

"Have you been borrowing my body while I'm asleep?"

Making a great show of focusing all his attention on the book in his lap, Yami pretended not to hear the question.

"...Because I'm pretty sure I didn't have this tattoo when I went to bed last night," Yugi continued, pointedly ignoring Yami pointedly ignoring him.

Stepping up to the couch, Yugi garnered Yami's full attention by the simple expedient of inserting himself between Yami's knees (shoving the book to the floor), yanking down the waistband of his sweats, and thrusting his now bare hip under Yami's nose.

Yami blinked at Exhibit A, then up at Yugi. "Something I can do for you?"

"Just answer the question!"

Another I-am-the-picture-of-innocence-see-that's-me-next-to-the-word-'innocence'-in-the-dictionary blink. "What question would that be?"

"Oh, don't even." Yugi rolled his eyes. "Are you or are you not responsible for this?"

"Your hip?"

"No, not my hip! What's on my hip!"

His other half leaned in for a better look. "You got a tattoo?"

"No, I did not get a—" At Yami's significant glance, Yugi amended, "Okay, yes. Obviously, I have a tattoo, but saying I 'got' one implies a certain degree of decision making that just—No. What did you do, wake up in the middle of the night and think 'You know what Yugi really needs? A tramp stamp!'"

Yami made a noise that had better not have been the hastily swallowed snort that it sounded like. Yugi glared. For his part, around the amusement, Yami just looked intrigued. "Aibou, that's not where a—"

"I know that!"

"How do you even know what a—"

"Joey."

"Ah."

A brief, contemplative silence ensued. Yugi could only imagine the thoughts that were filling his partner's head. He decided it would be best not to let them linger too long. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"'Well, what'? What do you think the entire point of this otherwise pointless conversation has been? How did you do it? Better yet, why?"

"But... I didn't. At least-" Yami went all shifty-eyed before getting his expression back under control. "-not consciously."

"Your unconscious got me a tattoo."

A non-committal 'mm' was the only reply for a moment, and then Yami offered a sly grin. "Maybe you were sleepwalking."

"To a tattoo parlor. In the middle of the night. In Egypt. Yes, that sounds like me," Yugi said, in a flat tone that conveyed the exact opposite. "I don't sleepwalk!"

"How would you know? You're asleep."

Yugi made an inarticulate sound of barely suppressed rage.

"It's a very nice tattoo," Yami offered in such a cheerful, helpful tone that Yugi wanted to strangle him.

Yanking up his pants, Yugi flopped sideways onto the couch beside his spouse. He rubbed absently at the markings. He was almost positive it wasn't an ordinary tattoo, as the skin was neither sore nor irritated, except from the ten minutes he'd spent in the shower trying to scrub off the design. Which probably meant the damned thing was a product of Yami's magic, which meant that he really hadn't meant to do it, not that that made it any less annoying. The worst part was that, since it was written in hieroglyphs, he didn't even know what the stupid thing said.

Invading Yugi's personal space with the clear intent to cuddle, Yami wrapped an arm around Yugi and nuzzled his neck. "I promise you that I did not do this intentionally, Aibou."

"Uh-huh." Tilting his head (and pretending he meant to shift away from the caresses rather than giving Yami better access), Yugi folded his arms over his chest and pouted. "At least tell me what it says." The words came out as a rather breathless moan.

"Um." Yami's other hand slipped down to rest in a proprietary gesture over the tattoo. Even through the cloth separating hand from hip, Yugi's skin tingled at the contact. Oh, yeah. Definitely magic. "Perhaps not."

Both of Yugi's eyebrows shot up to flirt with his hairline. That bad? "What the heck did your subconscious write on me?"

Springing away from their half-embrace, Yami scooped his book up from the floor and strode for the door. "I just remembered! This book is overdue. I'll just run down to the library and return it."

The excuse might have held more water if Yugi hadn't purchased that particular book for him last week and recognized the dust jacket.

"Freeze, mister!"

Yami froze.

It's not easy to stalk convincingly when you're not quite five feet tall, but Yugi managed it. He scowled up at his partner, who was doing a credible rendition of "sheepish yet smugly self-satisfied." And that was really the last straw for this particular camel.

"Daniel Jay Viridian! What. The. Hell. Does. It. Say?" Yugi punctuated each word with a hard poke of his finger at the center of Yami's chest. (He was just angry enough to almost hope it bruised.)

Yami mumbled something.

"Say it again. Where I can hear you, this time."

Clearing his throat, Yami repeated the words in a slightly more audible voice. "It says 'ib nehsoo.'"

Cursing the fact that he currently only knew a few words of spoken Egyptian (and could only read a few of the more obvious hieroglyphs),Yugi's brow furrowed. "Well, I recognize 'nehsoo'. Being around you, I've heard it often enough. N-s-w, that's 'king'... So, what's 'ib'?"

Instead of replying, Yami cupped one hand along Yugi's jaw, tilting his head up so that he could receive a gentle kiss. The other hand settled on Yugi's hip, both drawing him closer and caressing the tattoo. (And, not incidentally, sending a shiver of warm delight through Yugi.) He leaned into Yami, pressing as close to his husband as he could get, the last of his irritation melting away despite his best effort to hold onto it.

"Yami?" Rather than the intended demand, it came out as a sigh.

"Yes, Yugi?" The reply was a tantalizing whisper of breath against Yugi's lips.

"What—" Yugi's own breath hitched as Yami's hand traced a slow path from his jawline to his nape, then followed the slope of his spine downward. He swallowed and tried again. "What does 'ib' mean?"

Smiling, Yami kissed him again, a silken glide of lips and tongue that stole Yugi's breath and sent his thoughts shattering like soap bubbles.

"Heart, my beloved," Yami murmured between kisses, as his fingers traced the shape of the hieroglyphs on Yugi's hip. "It means 'the king's heart.'"