Aria: Guess what? Today is Seto's birthday! Happy Birthday, darling!

Kaiba: *shifts uncomfortably* Thank you.

Aria: And I even made you a present.

Kaiba: *nervous* That isn't necessary.

Aria: Sure it is! Besides, I wanted to take a break from making you angsty *enter shameless plug for "Rescue" HERE* and hot, and just make you hot instead.

Kaiba: Um.

Aria: So, here's my birthday present to you. I'd gift wrap it if I could, just so you'd have one more thing to take off.

Kaiba: ...Um.

Aria: And I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Nuts to me. Here we go!

RED AND BLACK

Jou swung into the room, tossing his book bag on the floor and crumpling into the squashy black leather couch in one movement, letting out a heave of breath as he did. "So," he said, glancing over at the impassive boy sitting before a whirring laptop. "Might as well get the torture over with quickly. How about you do the research and write the thing up, and I'll put on my prettiest smile when I hand it in. Guarantee 'A', right there. She loves it when I smile."

Blue eyes looked up quickly, but then went back to work. "Do I have to remind you, mutt, that this is YOUR report? Not mine. Not ours. And you're going to have to do more than smile to get an 'A'. Or didn't you notice the successive bad marks you've been getting in that class?"

Jou snorted. "Of course I noticed. That's what got me stuck with you as a tutor, ain't it? But the tides are changing, Kaiba. Hey," he sat up a little, "you going to work all day? Come on, lighten up a little." He put on his most winsome grin, and even batted his eyelashes outrageously at the unknowing figure across from him.

The typing paused.

Jou grinned easily, running long fingers through shaggy golden hair, rumpling it into a scattered, gleaming mess. The blue eyes flicked upward again, but stayed there, watching the lanky boy with interest.

"This is important," he offered, a trifle weakly, grinning to himself, knowing he'd already lost and more than willing to deal with the consequences.

"You know staring at a computer all day puts holes in your brain?" Jou asked cheerfully.

"Did you know that companies take more than smiles to make them run?" Kaiba countered.

"That's your loss, not mine," Jou replied.

The typing resumed, and he rolled his eyes. "Alright," he said, levering himself, with some regret, out of the couch, "enough. Give your fingers a rest, Kaiba, or you'll end up with Carpal Tunnel."

A silky brown brow quirked, but the typing continued. Jou glared. "You asked for it."

Kaiba almost smiled, but was distracted by the top of the laptop coming down with Jou's hand firmly on top of it. He glared instead. "Explanations, mutt."

"What, I gotta explain myself to you? I think not," Jou bantered, his grin widening, but he dropped the teasing tone when the other looked away, searching through papers. "Oh, come on, Kaiba. One game won't hurt you."

As he'd expected, the word "game" caught his wandering attention. The blue eyes narrowed. "What kind of game?"

"Um." Jou thought quickly. "Checkers. Come on," as Kaiba smirked and went back to his papers. "Will one game of checkers kill you? I just want some down time before I start that stupid report." He could see him wavering, and grinned in triumph, launching himself off the desk and going over to a cabinet filled with game boards and pieces. "You be white and I'll be black."

Kaiba laughed, a little surprised at the ease with which Jou had convinced him. And it WOULD be nice to take a break. In fact---

"Alright," he said, coming over and settling himself across the low table from where Jou was setting up the board, bending his lanky body to sit comfortably on the floor. "But as long as we're playing, let's make it interesting."

The hand laying down pieces paused. Jou looked up, quizzical. Kaiba smiled, a trifle sadistically. It was a good thing Jou couldn't see the blood thudding around his body, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be careful.

"Every time we lose a piece, the one who loses must remove one article of clothing," he said calmly, and watched with amusement, and no little interest, the effect of his statement. Since he'd been assigned to tutor Jou in their literature class, he'd first despised, then tolerated, then reluctantly enjoyed the mutt's attempts at banter. And recently, he'd caught himself staring at Jou's back in class, watching the play of muscle or the ripple of thin fabric, caught himself having daydreams about that thick golden hair and how it would feel under his fingers, caught himself, after passing by Jou, suddenly craving the scent of ginger that surrounded him.

And then he'd caught Jou staring at him in class, watching him walk by, caught him following him with eyes slightly darker than usual.

So he'd decided to test it, and he waited patiently for the result of his words, watching, in the meantime, the flush that threatened to spread over Jou's cheeks.

"Alright," the answer came, softer than usual, and the amber, honey-brown eyes glanced up and caught him with a shock of pure heat.

"Fine," he said shortly, hoping that the moment of spontaneous attraction had passed unnoticed, and wondering when his breath had gotten short, when his pulse had jumped. Jou set up the rest of the board in silence, and then sat back, leaning on his hands, waiting.

Right. His move. He sat up a little straighter, concentrating on the board, tracing out paths to take, and Jou watched those clear blue eyes moving over the board with a mix of reactions.

He wasn't sure why his heart was hammering quite this way, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the way a lock of silky brown hair fell over one intense blue eye, and swallowed hard. As many daydreams as he'd had, picturing almost this exact scenario with well-worn desires and new, timid, yet blindingly powerful feelings, it still had an air of the bizarre about it, and he sat up and moved his first piece with a kind of fatalistic interest.

The room was so completely still, so completely silent that he was sure his hammering heart and rapid breaths were audible across the board, but Kaiba didn't seem to notice, concentrating instead on the board, on the red and black checkers, leaving Jou free to concentrate on Kaiba until the other looked up with a smirk and he realized with a sinking feeling that he'd lost not one, but two pieces. He sent a smirk right back and tossed away his green jacket and hesitated only a moment before pulling the thin white t-shirt he wore over his head, aware, suddenly, of how pale his skin was, how odd his body felt, under Kaiba's cool blue gaze.

He flushed. "My turn."

Lucky. He grinned, and took one of Kaiba's pieces, then dropped it on his side of the table with a slight clatter as Kaiba unbuttoned and shrugged off the blue school jacket, placing it in a small pile next to him.

His glee didn't last long, however, and he grimaced as he added his shoes and belt to the steadily growing pile next to him, while Kaiba smirked in his white t-shirt and blue school pants.

"It ain't over yet, Kaiba," he snarled, feeling a moment of panic.

Could he just be trying to humiliate me?

A brown eyebrow quirked, and Kaiba sat back, waiting for Jou's move, and trying desperately to hide the rapidly climbing pulse rate, the ragged edges to his breath. He watched as Jou leaned forward, his golden hair falling softly over his face, and Kaiba clenched his hands, willing himself to not reach out and touch, to not reach out and pull Jou over to him, to reach out---

He looked up into Jou's grin, and his eyes widened involuntarily, glancing down at the board, and wondering at the obvious hole in his defenses just as Jou, glowing smugly, jumped a piece and arrived within one move of his side of the board. Heart hammering, he pulled his shirt over his head, and looked again at the board. How could he have let that slip? Didn't he want to win?

Does it matter? He thought, and grinned again, acutely conscious of his naked arms and chest, forcing himself to relax, to seem at ease.

Although, in the glare of Jou's smug smirk, it was rather difficult.

Jou settled back, conscious that his eyes were trying desperately to leave the board, to travel over the skin so suddenly bared, to brush over the lean frame and long arms, but he swallowed, hard, and forced himself to keep his eyes on the board.

Although he was fairly sure that, if his heart didn't slow down soon, he was going to pass out from the excess oxygen flooding his brain, swirling around the heat that was rising in his body. He swallowed again.

"Your turn."

Seto nodded. He looked at all the pieces, sighed internally, and moved one space closer to Jou's side of the board---and then sat back and waited.

Jou's smirk grew even wider, and he reached out to move his piece into position, sliding it slowly across the board to a black square at the very edge.

"King me," he said, laughing.

Seto smirked back, and reached out, grabbed a black checker from the neat stack at his side, and placed it gently on top of the one Jou was still holding. Grinning, Jou let go and began to move back across the table when Seto's right hand shot out from where it had been idly floating over the crowned checkers and grabbed his wrist.

Shock showed clear in the honey-brown, autumn gold-eyes.

"Wha-"

His pulse was racing, the blood pushed around his body at an incredible rate, pinking his skin and making him lightheaded, but he pulled sharply on the wrist, dragging Jou bodily across the table so that checkers scattered everywhere and the board was skewed to one side, but before the blond could complain Seto had risen to meet him, feeling the edge of the table press cold against his bare stomach, feeling the heat of Jou through his fingers, and getting one last glimpse of startled golden-brown eyes before he closed his own and brought his mouth down upon Jou's, feeling a violent surge of energy through his whole lean frame, ricocheting through his body and flashing before his closed eyelids in novas of red and gold and black light.

He tasted ginger.

Jou's mouth moved, he tried to say something, and Seto, the burst of passion past, opened his eyes, startled and a little frightened by what he had just done. He moved back abruptly, letting go of Jou's wrist and sitting back on his heels, staring at the white-turning-red mark his fingers had left on Jou's slim wrist.

"I---I'm sorry," he stammered, knowing he was stammering and hating it, feeling suddenly sick inside. He couldn't look up, but he saw, out of the edge of his vision, Jou looking down at his wrist, turning it around, not moving yet.

He couldn't look.

"Jou-I-"

That was all he could get out before the rest of the checkers went flying, followed closely by the board, which landed on its edge and fell immediately flat on the carpet as Jou hit the edge of the table, getting up and stepping over and ---oh God, whispered Seto's mind---running one long fingered hand behind Seto's neck, entwining in the thick, silky brown hair and pulling Seto's face up.

He couldn't look at him---didn't want to know what he would say next, waited, tense, for the anger that would surely follow, but it didn't come, his vision was thudding, he tried to pull away, to move away, but Jou just fell to his knees next to him and forced their eyes to meet.

He was smiling.

"You can't pull away from me," he said, and brought his other hand up to Seto's face, ran his thumb along one high cheekbone, following his trace with his eyes, marveling at the softness of the skin, at the feel of Seto's face beneath his fingers, and then he bent his head quickly, before he could be stopped, and brought their lips together again.

His mind flared, he burned the taste and feeling of Seto's mouth against his into his mind, his muscles, his very being, and felt delicate hands, hesitatingly at first, and then with more courage, sliding around his sides and up his back. He shivered at the feel of Seto's hands on his bare back, delighted in the play of fingers over his burning back, and he brought one hand down to trace the edge of Seto's neck, sliding softly over his shoulder, down his arm and then to his side, exploring this new, up till now only dreamed of territory.

Seto's hands were creeping up his neck, up into his hair---his fingers twined in the shaggy-soft mass of it, and fired Jou's mind even further. He longed for more, pulled Seto up to his knees so that they were chest to chest, skin against burning, longing, sensitive skin. Long arms wrapped around him, pressed him even closer, but he pulled his head back, dizzy from lack of breath and the heady taste of cinnamon on Seto's breath.

Blue eyes stared, cross-eyed and lazy with passion, back at him.

"Jou..."

His stomach clenched, he trailed his hand over Seto's side and up his chest, cupping the edge of his jaw. "Don't talk," he said. He couldn't bear it. "Not yet. Not now."

The other mouth worked for a moment, before Jou closed it with another kiss, feeling an ache build up deep inside him, and he wrestled with Kaiba for a minute, the two of them swaying together for a second before falling gently to the carpet, where Jou immediately flipped them over and stared down at Seto's wide blue---so blue---eyes and slightly parted lips, dark from kisses.

"Jou..." he said, but Jou leaned down and kissed him quiet.

"Not now," he said, layering small kisses on the sensitive skin at the edge of his jaw, feeling Seto's chest heave beneath him, so he ran a hand down the length of his lanky body, reveling in the feel of smooth skin over muscle, in the way Seto shivered as he passed his hand lightly down his body.

"No," he said, his eyes half closed, his breath ragged. "I have to...Jou..."

He levered himself up, and looked at the other boy seriously. "Not now," he said, and moved to kiss him again, but was stopped short by the fear in the blue eyes beneath him---his heart went numb, blood slowed its mad rush around his body. His eyes darted back and forth, trying to find a reason for the sudden fear, trying to find something, anything to make it go away. "It's alright," he said, finally, his voice coming out as a rough whisper, his breath ruffling the silky hair a little, as close as he was, he could see every detail of skin and bone and mouth---saw the expression changing, shifting within the deep blue eyes, saw Seto's mouth open, and placed his lips softly against it.

"No more talking," he murmured, his heart racing, fearing the words that might come from Seto's mouth, longing for them at the same time, longing for words and life and heat and passion, and he placed another bruising kiss on the lips---tasted cinnamon---and then ducked his head, showering Seto's neck and shoulder with kisses, working his way up slowly, trailing more delicately over the sensitive skin at under his jaw as he brushed his hand slowly over the bare skin of his stomach, feeling Seto shudder at the touch, feeling him shake and hearing his name in a whisper when he brushed away silky hair to kiss the edge of Seto's ear, felt the jolt as he licked and nipped gently at the edge of the ear, as he touched, stroked, with long fingers.

"Jou...I..." Seto muttered again, his mind going white, feeling his body shiver and jolt at Jou's touches, at the feel of his hot breath and hotter lips, the small nips at his ear, at the feel of his fingers touching him, bringing waves and swells and smoldering flames of pleasure, and he tried to open his eyes and realized they were open, that he was looking up at Jou, under the fringe of shaggy-soft, gleaming golden hair, and felt a sudden dread that he hadn't been able to speak, hadn't been able to make it known...

So he looked mutely up at Jou, who smiled, and bent his head and he felt hot breath that smelled like ginger against his ear as Jou whispered. "Now."

And yet he still couldn't speak, because Jou was nuzzling into his neck, because Jou was tracing a long finger over his body, because Jou was whispering into his ear "I love you, too.

"Happy birthday, Seto."