Yuugiou, all its plot and characters belong strictly and entirely to Takahashi Kazuki. I am merely borrowing them for my own perverted amusement.
The thing is, it's cold. Well, the real thing is that Mokuba's here. And Yami's agreed to give him half of the blankets, because he's young, and it's right for those in charge to take care of the young. Yuugi, who's at least younger than they are, has the other half.
But the thing is, it's winter. And when there's no firewood, a mountain cabin can get really, really cold, really, really fast. And all they've got left is Seto's sleeping bag.
"It's yours." Yami's voice is stiff, but if it looks like there's contempt on his face, as he eyes the expensive, brand-new bag, that's an illusion; what do Ancient Pharaohs know about 21st century camping gear? ...Maybe he's just cold. He claps his hands against his arms, adding "there's no sense both of us freezing."
Seto scowls. What kind of successful vacation is it if one of the vacationers comes back dead? ...And besides, Mokuba might not like it if he wakes up and finds a dead body in the cabin. "We can both fit," the words come out stingily.
"Both of us?"
"And we'll stay warmer, if we're both naked," Seto adds, and is immediately overwhelmed by the disapproval that goes over Yami's face.
"Yuugi and I are dating," says the little Pharaoh loftily.
"Typical," Seto turns away. His words are kind of muffled, as he pulls his Gore-Tex jacket over his head, "I suppose your little aibou would rather have a faithful, dead lover than an adulterous one?" He unzips his jeans.
"What are you doing?" Yami demands. Bare-assed, Seto looks back over his shoulder, "I said you'd stay warmer if you got in the bag naked." Idiot, his face adds. He's unrolling the bag onto the mattress, and maybe it's going to keep him warmer, but it certainly isn't doing it now. Yami can see goosebumps on his legs, and his lips are starting to turn blue. He shivers a couple times.
"You also said we'd stay warmer if we both got in." Quickly, Yami sheds his own clothes. He climbs into the bag and looks up expectantly. "My aibou would want me to protect you."
Seto gets in next to him. He might be muttering something about you're too fucking noble to live, but with half a down sleeping bag across his face, it's not easy to tell. He stares at the opposite wall, and Yami zips the bag. After a while, he spoons up against his ass. Before Seto can say anything, "we'll fit better this way," he says. And they do. They fit even better when Seto rolls over as well.
"Too fucking noble, and too fucking brave," his chin is resting on Yami's head, and multicolored hair gets in his mouth as he talks, "and you're too lucky as well," Seto says.
"Actually, I think you're quite a good duelist," Yami tells him in a helpful voice, and Seto has to kiss him just to shut him up.
After a while, he raises his head, lips swollen. "And you talk too fucking much," he adds, and then the room is quiet.
