Warning: YAOI which is MxM. Flames will be ignored.
Pairing: SethxAtemu, AtemuxMoswen (the equivalent of Ancient!Yuugi)
Disclaimer: YGO is not mine. I make no money of fanficcing this.
Background: First in a trilogy.
Dedication: To whoever sends dreams. And the hot myth teacher. ^_~

Disjunction

The audience chamber was empty with the exception of two sweating, bare bodies hopelessly entangled on the floor. Whimpers and moans of pleasure echoed around the hall; neither one took a care of silence. The tall, lean brunet was the High Priest-in-training, still waiting to assume the post with the completion of his internship. His smaller, wilder partner was none other than the heir to the throne of Egypt – Prince Atemu.
Seth growled as Atemu's thrusts increased in tempo. One of the prince's hands began to stroke him erratically, and his growls changed to a groan at the assault on his senses.
Atemu came first before lazily stroking Seth to his own completion. The two of them lay, tangled together , until both of their pulses had calmed and their breathing returned to normal.
As per usual, Atemu was the first of the pair up. Seth watched him gather his clothing and leave. He knew that the prince would hardly balk at walking through the palace bare, as he'd seen Atemu often wander the halls in various states of undress. However, unlike the prince, Seth knew he had an image to uphold.
With great care, he dressed himself and began the trek to the bathing complex, hoping to find some servant or other to clean the audience hall before the gathering with foreign ambassadors.
Atemu had either forgotten his father's audience in his eagerness for a tryst, or he didn't care. Seth figured it was the latter. In general, the prince seemed to have a relatively limited experience with responsibility.
It was one of many traits Seth did not approve of. However, the prince was the son of a god, and not to be questioned. One day, Atemu would be a god himself. Seth planned on being around for that; criticism of a god was not the best way to earn favorable looks.
He was halfway to the bathing rooms and still there was no sign of any servants.
When you don't need them, they're all over the place, but the moment there's a job that needs to be done, they disappear. How convenient, he muttered to himself.
Well, he'd cleaned up trysting areas before – if there still wasn't a servant around by the time he'd reached the bathing hall, he'd just do it himself.
There was no one at all in the halls. In disgust, Seth turned around to return to the audience chamber, grabbing a few linens to use on the way out.
It would be just my luck, he grumbled, stalking back the way he had come.
Again, the corridors were all empty. It made him wonder where everyone was.
The Audience can't be yet, can it? he wondered, lengthening his steps.
IT would make total, horrible sense, because all the servants would be serving food or dancing or whatever for the foreign ambassadors. He sent a quick prayer to Thoth, asking that no one would be there…
Thoth didn't quite deliver, but Seth sent a burst of gratitude anyway. The only other person in the room was a small boy already working on the white mess. Still, no use in shoring the gods their due.
Seth closed the door of the audience hall behind himself and strode over to the child's hunched form.
"I'll take it from here," he told the boy. A pair of violet eyes met his for a brief second before the child nodded and stood up to leave.
Seth knelt and dropped one of the linens on the floor to finish cleaning.
The door opened when he was nearly done, making him look up quickly, ready to hide evidence of his work, but then he relaxed marginally. It was Atemu.
The prince moved like a great hunting cat, over to his father's throne. Atemu didn't sit on the throne so much as he claimed it, Seth mused. The prince had posed rather provocatively, one leg up on the arm, leaning back, staring from under lowered lashes with a smirk.
"You know," he began in husky tones, "Isis had enough foresight to send a slave, Seth. I hardly think cleaning your own seed off the audience floor is a requirement for becoming High Priest." The prince paused, eyes glittering as Seth flushed. In the semi-darkness, he assumed Atemu wouldn't notice. He was wrong. Either the prince had astounding night vision or he knew Seth's reactions well enough to gauge them.
"Embarassed are we?" Atemu crooned. "Is it from Isis spying on you or having been ccaught doing servant's work, I wonder?"
Seth bit his lip to keep from replying. Atemu knew very well just how paranoid Seth could be about privacy. It was one in a long list of subjects the prince often taunted him about. The thought of Isis having foreseen the need for a servant to clean the audience chamber – even if she'd seen nothing else – made his gut clench uncomfortably. It was almost worse than having someone walk in on them.
His face felt hot. He knew he must be red. Atemu's laughter didn't help.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Audience lasted much longer than he would have liked. Atemu had been standing close to him, the tease, and getting his blood riled, knowing as he must have, how such behavior irked Seth. Now the high priest-in-training was attempting to walk at a sedate pace towards the prince's chambers.
Attempting, being the key word, for he was not succeeding. To anyone else, Seth was walking briskly, and that was precisely the problem. One ran when there was an emergency. One strolled when there was nothing of overt importance on one's mind. One walked briskly when there was a task to be done – some goal to be reached.
He hated the feeling, but refused to classify his need as an 'emergency'. Perhaps the prince could afford to be ruled by lust now and again. A high priest – especially one who had not yet even completed formal training – was not to be allowed that luxury.
So, he walked.
Briskly.
It was still too slow.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Atemu smirked down at him. Seth was, by far and large, used to the view. It rarely changed. The whole kingdom knew the Claiming Rite – and knew too, that it was more than unlikely this prince would ever employ it.
In some ways, Seth considered that to be a great pity. Most of the time, he felt it when denied a finish in the prince's body. Those most unsatisfying times were when he seriously rethought this idea of being Atemu's lover.
Like as not to be cast away with the dawn, as it was whispered.
Yet somehow, he hadn't been.
And still –
Atemu thrust hard into him, striking that one point of purest pleasure. Against his will, Seth felt a yell torn from his throat, ripe as fruit picked form a vine. The feel of the prince – even if it was only an addiction, only a fantasy doomed to end – was worth anything when Atemu exerted himself.
Shamelessly above, Atemu groaned as Seth watched and the pleasure built in both of them.
"Touch yourself," the prince whispered in his ear. His voice was deep and rich – the epitome of sex.
Atemu knew how demeaning Seth considered such a command to be. The high priest-in-training, however, could not deny an order from the prince. He guessed Atemu drew pleasure from his own twisted commands as well, knowing the one whom he was taking would find release by his own hand.
Seth hated it.
His hand snaked down to begin feverishly stroking himself, attempting to match Atemu's rhythm. Against his wishes, another groan escaped his lips.
"Seth." Atemu's ragged whisper sounded in his ear. "Seth, come for me."
The prince's hands were on his hips, limiting movement.
Atemu's smile was seductive, his eyes dark with pleasure as he released and withdrew, leaving a sticky trail of semen down Seth's thighs.
The prince pulled back; Seth was still not satiated. Atemu's smile widened.
"Come for me."
The brunet felt his face burn. Atemu knew how much he disliked being watched, even with clothing on. Somehow the prince seemed to gain his greatest pleasure from Seth's discomfort.
An order was an order.
Eyes closed, Seth began to stroke himself anew. He was close already.
Atemu's lips brushed against his ear. "Keep your eyes open, Seth," the prince breathed, teasingly.
Seth's eyes opened, and he felt his flush deepen. Atemu's eyes raked hungrily over his bare body – he felt as if he was being devoured alive.
In short, it was humiliating.
A few more sharp strokes and he arched into his own hand, releasing his seed across his own chest.
Atemu smirked and stood, flaunting his perfect body in a way Seth would never have dared to do.
It was no wonder the prince had both males and females trailing after him, drowning in their own drool.
The prince's sexual appetite seemed insatiable; already he was beginning to tease himself back to arousal.
Seth simply relaxed, knowing that after the first exchange, Atemu hardly cared if his partner was aroused or not. Right now, he was simply a body for the taking.
Atemu smiled at him.
Seth spread his legs a little wider.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was dark when he finally left the prince's room. Atemu would not sleep with him – with anyone – until the Claiming Rite had been carried through.
Those who didn't know Atemu at all bet on Seth. Those who did know bet no one. Seth himself doubted whether Atemu was capable of the humility the Rite required.
To be taken, fully possessed by another – the concept must seem so foreign to the prince, Seth thought. Never was there a moment when Atemu was not absolutely in charge, except when Seth enjoyed the dubious pleasure of being the top.
And even then… He wasn't really on top, because Atemu would never allow that. The control that belonged to the one on top always rested with the prince.
Seth walked slowly in the halls. He felt slightly uncomfortable, but there was no pain – only residual soreness. Unlike the first sexual marathon he had engaged in, he could walk away.
His inability to do so the first time had given Atemu yet another thing to taunt him with. The prince used every advantage. Seth doubted whether he would ever be free of his own failings so long as Atemu was around to remind him.
The question of why he would remain with Atemu, despite the taunts and denials – the answer was simple, the reasoning less so. Atemu had not given him leave to abandon the 'relationship', and so he would not. Could not. Besides, there was a small, twisted part inside that had actually grown attached to the prince, beyond the physical attraction.
Seth wished it had never come into existence.
His door loomed before him. Without another two thoughts about it, the young man entered and collapsed on his bed, letting his body plunge into the sleep it so deeply desired. Problems, worries, wishes – they could all wait for the morrow.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Seth growled in frustration. His final exam to become High Priest was in a few days. He was trying to study. Atemu was doing his best to distract him.
When Atemu wanted to do something, he generally succeeded.
Seth was distracted. Possibly, it was the hands plunged down the front of his kilt. Maybe it was the husky voice whispering obscene possibilities in his ear. Perhaps it was his own weakness in defying the prince anything.
Whatever the reason, when Atemu began stripping him, Seth complied without the faintest hint of reluctance.
Seth wondered if his study was the optimal place for this. There really weren't any comfortable surfaces…
Atemu's nude body glowed. It was rare to see him in anything more covering than a simple hip-wrap unless his father forced him into something more formal. Considering his body though – Atemu hardly needed clothing.
Seth trailed his hands down the prince's chest, rubbing at his nipples. In contrast, Atemu's hands were digging into the place right behind Seth's shoulder blades, forcing his back to arch if he didn't want to have his joints dislocated.
The movement brought their groins into contact.
Atemu was a raging fire, impossible to quell. As his foil stood Seth, slow to rise to the moment when passions were forefront.
The prince was shorter, but not overly so. His hands relocated themselves to Seth's buttocks, squeezing until the brunet began to wince. They gentled then, but not by much.
Seth's hands were occupied with Atemu's thighs. In a short while, he knew the prince would require his mouth.
He did, and Seth knelt before him, ignoring the slight pull on his scalp as Atemu's fingers threaded firmly into his hair. The prince guided his head forward, and he opened his mouth obediently to suck. Yet again, this was a position he found demeaning, and so Atemu asked – nay, demanded – it of him.
The prince tasted salty in his mouth. Each time he thrust forward, Seth had to work to still his gag reflex. His tongue sat limply in his mouth, refusing to help.
Atemu pulled out before he climaxed, as Seth knew he would. The prince's sex glistened with saliva. Atemu offered Seth his fingers. He took them into his mouth, regretting the lack of proper lubrication in the study.
After a brief prep, the prince took him.
Seth tried to stifle the sounds of his pleasure. Atemu – shameless, lusty, brazen Atemu – was making no such attempt, allowing throaty howls of pleasure to echo in the study and, no doubt, beyond.
The prince's hand made sporadic contact with Seth's aching need. He wondered if Atemu planned on watching him again.
The study door opened.
Seth paled, but Atemu continued pounding away, finally stroking his partner until they had both come.
Afraid to look, but unable to pretend ignorance of the new arrival, Seth looked up from his place on the floor. Both Atemu's father and his own instructor were standing there, regarding them.
Atemu stood, seeming utterly unabashed at having been caught in such a situation. Then again, it was impossible to fire the heir.
For his own part, Seth was mortified, and more than embarrassed at having been caught in such a compromised state of affairs.
"Hello father, High Priest," Atemu greeted. He had made no move towards his clothing, seemingly utterly at ease in his own sweaty skin, seed splashed liberally across his abdomen.
The Pharaoh seemed to be unsurprised by the state of his son. The High Priest, on the other hand, looked quite near a fit of apoplexy.
Seth knew that look rather well, but it was the first time he could recall it being directed at him. Usually the beneficiaries of that fearsome look were shirkers and cheats.
"I assume you have a good reason for distracting the young High Priest," Atemu's father commented lightly. His sparkling steel eyes indicated it had better be a very good reason.
Atemu seemed neither taken aback no apologetic. Instead, he offered a warm smile that had no sexual conjunction. Seth thought it an odd look for the prince. Sex was so much a part of his being that there was a distinct wrongness in seeing him do anything chaste.
"I am searching for the partner of my Claiming Rite," Atemu announced.
Seth gasped. He was not the only one. His instructor, the High Priest, was goggling at Atemu as if the prince had just announced he was becoming a eunuch.
The Pharaoh merely raised an eyebrow. "An interesting development. With whom do you plan on completing the Rite?"
Seth looked at Atemu, wondering the same. If the prince had already chosen a partner for the Rite –
Why is he still involved with me?
Atemu smirked with all his haughty arrogance. "Why, Seth, of course," he answered.
Seth felt as if he'd been hit by an out-of-control chariot.
"What?" he managed to choke out.
For a moment, he thought Atemu was serious. That moment ended when the prince turned and offered him an exaggerated wink.
He relaxed then. It was a ploy to keep both of them from trouble.
Part of him wished it weren't. He stubbornly sat on that piece of himself.
"B-but," the High Priest stuttered.
Seth used the momentary distraction to tie his own hip-wrap on. Perhaps Atemu could face the Pharaoh bare without pause; he could never do so.
"Is there a problem with that?" the prince demanded, his demeanor changing from fire to ice.
Seth's mentor looked as if he dearly wanted to give protest, but none could be offered. The participants of the Rite were not open to discussion.
Atemu's arm wrapped protectively around Seth's waist.
Both the High Priest and the Pharaoh regarded the two of them for a long moment. Finally, the Pharaoh broke the silence. "I am pleased you have made a choice, my son," he said. Seth could detect no inflection, no hidden meaning to his words. He left, leaving Atemu and Seth to face the High Priest.
Again, there was extended silence while the Priest fought for words. Finally he addressed Seth.
"You are still taking your exam in three days. I won't pass you just because you're the prince's chosen."
Atemu's laughter cut away the High Priest's bluster. "You would do well not to threaten the prince's chosen, old man. Or had you forgotten the prince becomes the pharaoh?"
There was no reply to that. Instead of making one, Seth's mentor fled. Atemu glared after him.
Seth wondered if he was going to remove his arm from around his waist .His inner self sighed with the prince did.
"If he gives you any trouble, let me know," Atemu commanded.
Seth nodded. He didn't think this newest development was anything to grow excited over, but Atemu was never this protective… "You weren't being serious, were you?" A tiny hope had risen, beginning to blossom.
The prince's laughter destroyed it. "Of course not. I like you well enough, but you will always be too much yourself for me." He shrugged. "I'm too much of a narcissist to ever give myself away."
Silently, Seth nodded. He had expected as much.
The prince sobered. "Do let me know if he makes things difficult. I know you want the post of High Priest, and believe me – there is no one else I'd rather have guarding my secrets."
"And your body," Seth could help adding.
Atemu smirked. "But of course. And who better than one with a vested interest in keeping me – all of me – in on piece?"
Seth flushed, nodded and left.
Atemu's laughter chased him down the halls.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was late. Seth was once again in his study, attempting to make up for the hours Atemu had stolen from him. He was having limited success with focus, because he could feel the prince's scarlet gaze burning into his back.
Atemu knew he hated being watched.
Seth knew he would never rightfully earn his priesthood if he did not complete this study. But Atemu's eyes –
The prince didn't need to say anything to put him off-balance. His mere presence was enough. He had two days left to finish preparing for his final exam. There had to be a way to keep the prince at bay until then.
Subtle went over Atemu's head. Therefore, he would have to be quite forward and risk whatever consequences he might reap in the process.
"Atemu?" He turned in his chair to meet the prince's eyes.
"Yes, Seth?" Atemu practically purred. Seth felt tempted to abandon his resolve, but resisted. This was something he had to do, if he were to prove he could succeed on his own.
"I need to study. I can't do that with you here."
"Distracting, am I?" Atemu asked, a hint of amused laughter coloring his voice. He arched, letting the tunic he was wearing ride up. Today was one of those odd days when he was fully attired.
Seth nodded. "Very," he commented dryly. "And distracting is hardly what I need right now."
Atemu smirked. "You'll have to find someone to take your place then," he said.
The idea was a good one.
"Perhaps one of the pleasure slaves?" Seth suggested.
A disgusted snort ended that suggestion. Then Atemu got a look in his eye.
"Bring one of the regular slaves to my quarters in the pleasure slave attire," he instructed.
The order was a confusing one. Seth did not question it. He nodded and Atemu disappeared, leaving the young priest-to-be with his books.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A servant was generally an easy thing to come by, except of course, when one was needed.
Seth had crossed the entire complex twice already and there were no candidates suitable for the prince's bed. He was about to give up on his search and got to Atemu himself when a young boy carrying towels crossed his path.
Young, yes, but certainly not a child. Seth followed inconspicuously behind him. After the boy had left the load of towels in the bathing rooms, Seth came out to catch him by the arm.
In the back of his mind, he noted the child possessed violet eyes. He made the connection easily enough. This was the same boy who had cleaned up from the tryst in the audience hall. What a twist of fate.
"Come with me," he ordered, gratified to see the boy did not question but obeyed directly, though his violet eyes were wide with curiosity.
Seth had not yet selected the garments from the pleasure slave outfitters, so he brought the violet-eyed boy along to be dressed.
It took very little time, and he was pleased to not that the child bore marked similarities to a true pleasure slave.
Now to take him to Atemu's chambers.
They walked in silence to the prince's rooms. Seth opened the door. Atemu was not in yet. He paused for a moment, then made his decision.
"Go wait on the bed," he ordered.
The child's wide eyes were the only indication that he knew anything about what might be going on.
Seth ignored that half-frightened look. Before leaving, he shut the door. Let Atemu do as he would. Seth did not care now.

_______________________________________________________________
Author's Note:
Thoth: The god of wisdom; I see Seto (and by correlation, Seth) as having a connection with any god involving wisdom or knowledge. Thoth has an ibis' head.
Servant vs. Slave: Because of the differences in background, I see Seth as inclined towards naming the people of the palace who aren't royalty or guards etc. as 'servants', while Atemu (being a rather pompous ass the way I write him) would see them as slaves instead. All to do with background, in my humble(ish) opinion.