Breaking the Ice

by WritingAmateur

Seto Kaiba did not cry. He certainly did not weep. Did he have a reason to be so... frightened? Was it his own lust, his own self-destructive desire for her he was frightened of? Or was it Ishizu, this incredibly beautiful and poised older woman who caused this wracking mess of fear and adrenaline and want to flood his body, rendering his precious common sense utterly useless?

The knock on her door came sharply, swiftly, as if the person on the other side of the threshold were angry or merely impatient; Ishizu groaned slightly, having been so rudely awoken from her fitful slumber, casting her glance at the clock on the nightstand beside the Necklace-one-forty in the morning.

Who in the world, at this time…?

She sat up in bed as the knocking grew louder, more insistent; already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, she fumbled for the robe she'd dropped to the floor, slipping the cream-colored silk about her body, over her modest white nightgown, and tied the belt tightly. The moonlight streamed in through the one small circular window in the room, flooding everything with a frail silver light that vanished as she found the light switch, flicked it on, and headed over to the door, stifling a yawn.

"What-"

Seto Kaiba, clad in a white button-down shirt and-strangely enough-blue pajama pants (though, assuming he slept in the whole black outfit and white coat get-up hardly seemed realistic, after all) pushed past her rather rudely and crossed the threshold into her room, turning to face her with crossed arms and a particularly venomous glare.

Ishizu tried again, closing the door behind him in a slight daze. "What in Ra's name-"

"Took you long enough, you asinine, idiotic, brainless woman." The words were torn through with bile and pure loathing; Ishizu turned her head sharply to face him where he stood in the center of her room, looking for all the world like she was his worst enemy, his greatest annoyance and he wanted nothing more than to crush her.

Crush her more than he had only hours previously, when instead of summoning Obelisk, the card she'd bloody given him, he'd somehow decided to call upon his trusted Blue-Eyes White Dragon, leading to her unforeseen-and utterly embarrassing- defeat at his hand, dashing her pride and with her, any hope of being able to save her poor brother herself. What more could he possibly want? Especially at this ridiculously impolite hour? She knew Seto Kaiba suffered no fools, followed no rules of propriety that did not suit him, but this particular rudeness seemed extremely out of line, even for him.

Seto continued, his voice low with vitriol, eyes narrow with arrogance. "You think you're so superior, Ishizu Ishtar, even though you lost- despite the fact that you had so-called fate and destiny on your side." He licked his lips, caught his breath before continuing. "You… with your little museum and your stone tablets that mean nothing, nothing at all, and your downright addled brother-"

"Don't you dare speak of my brother that way," Ishizu retorted, allowing the rising anger she now felt to creep into her voice, walking over to him and pressing her finger against his crossed arms firmly. Don't you dare, Seto Kaiba. My brother needs help, not your cold calculations and judgments and cruel words.

Seto looked down his nose at her, sneering as he responded, "he's only addled, Ishizu, because of the nonsense you peddle-you, with your damned pharaohs and gods that have no bearing on today-on my past, my present or my future."

Ishizu backed away, refusing to let him talk down to her in this manner, meeting his spiteful words vowel for vowel. "Seto Kaiba, you've already demonstrated your total lack of respect for my way of living, and you're proven that you can control, to some degree, your own fate, yes, but to barge into my room at this hour to lambast me for believing what I believe is beyond inappropriate, even for you."

She paused for a moment, shoulders rising and falling, breath coming in spurts, a question tugging at her mind. "Why are you here, Seto Kaiba? After all, you are quite aware that you've won the duel; I know that as well as you do, and we both know that you don't happen to believe in the truth of your past, the truth I have repeatedly shown you. So that brings me to my question, Seto-why have you come to my room at this hour?"

At this question, Seto seemed to be at a loss for words, his cheeks suddenly blooming through with a curious red color-a shade she'd never seen on his pale cheeks.

What in the world…?

Ishizu studied the young man with a careful, practiced curator's eye, sweeping her eyes over his heavy-lidded, squinting gaze, reddened cheeks; lips quivering as if to bite back his sheer rage, his sheer fury at her very existence; his defiant yet protective posture, hands crossed in front of his chest; spine curled forward, and- oh.

Well, that clears matters up, then.

"Seto Kaiba, are you...aroused right now?" She took care to prevent the sheer light-hearted hilarity from creeping into her voice-the strange, twisted hilarity she felt at this, this ridiculous situation where Seto Kaiba, Seto Kaiba, of all people, was standing before her in her room on this zeppelin, his zeppelin, during his Duel Monsters tournament, showing clear and unmitigated signs of painful sexual frustration and arousal.

It was almost like seeing him naked-seeing him rendered vulnerable and… and afraid before her.

She wasn't quite sure what to think of this.

Seto's face reddened even further, if that was possible, and he crossed his legs self-consciously, eyes narrowing further as he practically growled at her, "you stupid, stupid woman- you foolish, idiotic, deluded woman-what could possibly make you think that I-"

Ishizu fought to keep her voice level, her eyes from rolling in exasperation at his theatrical denial as she calmly extended a hand towards him; Seto's swallowing was audible as she took his wrist in her hand, pressing gently against the skin to feel his pulse.

It was thrumming fast, all right, faster than it had any right to, providing further evidence to support her hypothesis as to his condition.

Seto felt himself become nearly apoplectic. She was so close to him, closer than she'd ever been; oh, the heat radiating from her body, that sweet scent filling his nostrils...

"What-what are you doing-"

Her voice came out more curtly than she meant it. "Well, Seto Kaiba, since you're a young man of logic and reason, let's parcel this through, bit by bit, shall we?" She could feel the strangely delicate skin of his wrist beneath her fingers, the elegant raised lines of his veins hard at work, noticed intently as his eyes widened, the ice-blue startled and startling in its innocence.

She continued, glad he had decided against cutting her off. "You come to my room at-what is it? Two o'clock in the morning? And start cursing me out for no good reason, despite the fact that you already humiliated me earlier today when you won our duel, acting as if I am the one who somehow wounded you. Your face is bright red, your pupils are quite dilated, indicating either that you have poor eyesight and haven't adjusted to the light level in the room, or that you're sexually aroused; your pulse is racing, Seto Kaiba, racing… not to mention the rather obvious fact of your bloody erection."

Seto was sure he was going to die of shame as he crossed his legs meekly once more, erection notwithstanding, cursing his wretched body for betraying him at such a precarious moment as this.

Ishizu took in a deep, cool breath before continuing, sure she had tamed his tongue at least for a moment. "So, Seto Kaiba, I think I've presented the evidence to you, and made my case quite clear. So if you please, don't be quite so rude to me, especially when I am correct and you know that I am." She dropped his wrist and crossed her arms in front of her chest, serene, calm, and, most of all, correct in this matter. Millennium Necklace or no Millennium Necklace, it did not take a genius to deduce his current state.

Seto's face was nearly purple with combined rage and humiliation as he broke eye contact, taking a shaky step back from her, casting his gaze towards the linoleum floor of her bedroom, with its pale blue and white tiles.

"Well, it's not because of you." Yes, Seto, you idiot, that should definitely throw her off the scent.

Ishizu raised an eyebrow, a slight grin quirking at her lips. Oh. Could he be… "I… I never said it was because of me, Seto Kaiba." Methinks he doth protest too much.

Seto turned his head and scowled at her, the unpleasant expression failing to hide either his embarrassment at having been caught, utterly found out and exposed, or his patrician good looks that barely earned a second thought from him. In this moment, his eyes ferocious and truly frightened, lips pursed in a show of arrogance, cheeks still that flaming evidentiary red, he seemed an entirely different person altogether.

Despite the roundabout way it had come about in the conversation, Ishizu did have to admit to herself that, assuming her inferences were correct, she was flattered by the compliment. After all, while he was on the younger side-eighteen years old, she remembered from her preliminary research on the young CEO, conducted what seemed like aeons ago, back in Egypt-he did have a certain elegance to him, a particular handsomeness in the line of his jaw, just enough of a hint of prettiness about the mouth and eyes to compensate for the beginnings of stubble she could see dotting his chin. She had noticed these things long ago, when they had first met-noticed and taken note of, to be sure.

What was not to like about Seto Kaiba's looks?

It's rather too bad about his personality, she thought wryly, cruelly, before dismissing the thought as not only unnecessary, but additionally, as extraneous in this instance.

Seto felt himself being studied under her intent gaze, as if she were dissecting him with her eyes. He checked her neck briefly-no foolish mystical Necklace, no way to "see the future", no way to mess with my mind, he noted-before regretting the move utterly, as the delicate line of her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her bust threatened to make him… weep?

And Seto Kaiba did not cry. He certainly did not weep.

Did he have a reason to be so... frightened?

Was it his own lust, his own self-destructive desire for her he was frightened of?

Or was it Ishizu, Ishizu Ishtar herself, this incredibly beautiful and poised older woman who caused this wracking mess of fear and adrenaline and want to flood his body, rendering his precious common sense utterly useless?

Seto's lower lip wobbled precariously, a startlingly childish move that somehow looked downright tempting on the young man. Clearly, Seto Kaiba was at a loss in this situation. He was, after all, a world Duel Monsters champion, an innovator, a man in control of a company, in control of so much-but, it seemed, not so in control of his own mind, let alone his body…

As Ishizu stepped forward towards him once more, looking at him curiously, as if he were something fascinating, something strange and beautiful to be studied and understood and comprehended, Seto found he couldn't will himself to take a step back to compensate, to escape her aura, the pure blasted appeal radiating from her body.

For the life of him, Seto couldn't quite understand it; while he'd observed both men and women in school, at board meetings, at company affairs and tournaments and the like, none had managed to catch his eye in the slightest, prompting Mokuba to question whether his big brother was going to truly be alone forever, and then he'd heard her voice, soft and authoritative, on his phone on that fateful day in his office, seen her image on the television screen before him, felt pulled towards her because of her promise of rare cards, certainly, but he would have been lying if he'd claimed that was the only reason. Of course, her doddering on about "destiny" and "the Pharaoh" had managed to quell what stirrings she had incited that evening in the museum, but as soon as he'd seen her once more, in her veil and cream-colored dress, standing confidently across the rooftop playing field from him, suddenly his knees had felt weak, his control, his concentration utterly shaken; after all, he'd barely beaten her in their duel, despite her blathering on about the "fated future" she apparently saw thanks to her jewelry; his unexpected victory had been so sweet, despite her failure to be properly disappointed about it.

She'd tortured him nights, though. As Seto had lain in his expensive four-poster bed in Kaiba Manor, the curtains drawn and door locked so that he could-ahem-attend to his sudden, unexpected needs, her face, her stupid, stupid face had flickered behind his eyes, the curves of her body in that modest dress both alluring and frightening him in turn; he'd felt like a foolhardy fly perching on the tip of a Venus Flytrap, only by sheer accident avoiding utter doom and destruction at her hands without her even knowing it.

And what would she have done-what could she do now, now that she knew?

Ishizu's voice snapped him out of his brief reverie. "Well, Seto Kaiba, I have to say I'm quite flattered by your interest." She was close enough now to him that she could see the sweat beading on his forehead, close enough to feel rather than hear his shallow, panting breaths at her proximity, her mere presence in his personal bubble, where no one but Mokuba was allowed to tread and where no one was allowed to stay for very long; and yet she did not step back, and he found he did not want to, either.

Ishizu allowed him a demure smile before reaching out once more and smoothing the collar of his shirt nonchalantly, pretending to ignore the highly visible shudder that wracked his body at the contact. "While it's not something I expected from you, of all people…" and here she dragged a finger along the edge of his collar where fabric brushed against skin, "... if you were to proposition me, I wouldn't necessarily say no."

Seto's eyes widened even further, mouth going slightly agape, erection practically twitching with need as Ishizu backed away and refastened her robe around her body, knowing full well that he was watching her motions, helpless to resist wanting her, wanting as he did to rip off that robe and do things to her, things that had only occurred to him in his tortured, heated dreams as well as during those times when he'd locked the door, drawn the curtains of his bed and desperately tried to understand himself.

"What are you saying, Ishizu?" he managed to retort, forcing an edge into his voice that he couldn't ground in some sense of reality. Could she really mean…

Ishizu smoothed the silky fabric over her hips slowly, languorously, and smiled back up at him, eyes bright and playful. "I'm saying, Seto, that while I do have my destiny to attend to-after all, we cannot hope to ignore our fate, even if you've proven that fates can be changed-it has not escaped my notice during our short acquaintance that you have certain… qualities."

Seto attempted to match his voice to hers, to gain some hope of equal footing in this increasingly dangerous and fearsome territory. "Qualities…?"

Ishizu stepped closer to him, leaving only about a foot of space between them, and continued blithely, "however, Seto, if you were so frustrated because of me, there are other ways you could have attended to that tonight, rather than wake me up at this obscene hour and merely vent your misplaced anger-rather rudely, I might add…"

"Don't you think I've tried that?" His words escaped his lips exasperatedly before he could stop them; at this mention of his own shameful, secret hobby he recolored all over again, crossing his arms in front of his chest once more, cutting his eyes to his feet, which were bare and only now beginning to feel the cold tile beneath them.

He had indeed tried, tried most vigorously and sincerely, lying awake in bed that night, adrenaline from his earlier victory finally settling, finally cooling, heartbeat finally slowing, until it was just him and the darkness and that pale moonlight seeping into the room and his thoughts turned to... matters... and her face, her body had floated before him, behind tightly closed eyes, taunting him with her grace, her figure, her poise, her inscrutable something that made him lose any semblance of control. His hand had wandered below the waistband of his pants, as it tended to do in response to this phenomenon, but to no avail-he'd only managed in stoking the fire, to making the problem even worse, and then his thoughts had turned dark and angry, even resentful, of the power this woman seemed to wield so effortlessly over his body and his mind; before he could truly understand what he was doing, he'd risen from his bed and practically flown down the hallways of the residential area of the zeppelin, and raising all hell pounding on her door until she answered, answered for herself and her hatefulness, her unbelievable repulsiveness, planning to cuss her out, to hopefully make her shut her damned mouth for one, maybe even cry-and then this had happened.

So that is how he thinks of me? Intriguing. Ishizu's smile remained the same, but Seto noticed a gleam in her eyes that hadn't been there before as she crossed her arms to match his posture.

"I-I mean… that is…" Seto found himself sputtering in response to her silence, further incriminating himself, wishing the floor would crack open and swallow him whole; of course, since he'd designed every aspect of this damned zeppelin, that wasn't likely to happen, but still he prayed, prayed that his body would stop betraying his every thought, his impossible, embarrassing desire for this actual, real-life, grown-up adult woman; god, she must see me as such a foolish, bratty child, and I've done nothing to contradict that…

Yet… she did say I have "qualities". Is she making fun of me? Teasing me? I cannot, for the life of me, understand this ridiculous woman.

Ishizu smiled now, benevolently yet broadly, quite enjoying making the great Seto Kaiba squirm and reel like this. She swept her gaze over him once more, taking in every detail of his discomfort, his need, his fear, and finding him increasingly to her liking. Yes. This is going to be fun.

He is, after all, clearly and utterly inexperienced in this sort of affair.

"Say, Seto?" she began again, inching closer to him, bit by bit, until their hips were nearly touching; she pulled his chin up slightly with her index finger until their eyes met. "Am I right after all?"

Seto's hands shook at the feel of her finger on his chin; as she pulled her hand away and placed it on his shirt collar, fingers running along the edge of the fabric and brushing his collarbone, he nearly lost his ability to stand. "...right about...what, Ishizu?" His voice came out far more ragged than he wanted, his hips straining to press against hers.

Ishizu lowered her eyelids and gazed up at him through thick lashes, licking her lips and feeling downright predatory. "Am I right about the… cause of your distress?" And with those words she gently rocked her hips against his.

Seto, in that instant, was sure he had died… or something. Right there-f-fuck. His palms grew moist, more humiliatingly so, and he briefly considered wiping them on his pants-how amateurish and disgusting that would look, he thought dismissively, seeking to distract himself from her, from his need, from what she was doing-her unexpected, downright unpredictable actions towards him, for as much as he'd thought of the curator in compromising, private ways, in no universe could he have fathomed this-her standing before him, teasing him, dammit, giving all the signs that she was intrigued by-no-interested... in him?

The thought was a whisper of hope, tugging shyly at his mind.

It was nearly too much for him to bear.

Ishizu pursed her lips in mock thought, clearly awaiting for him to articulate an answer of some kind, to either play the cards close to his chest, so to speak, to issue a hopeless denial that would only lead to more playfulness on her part, or to give in, give up the ghost, and admit to what they both knew now that he felt with his entire body-

That he wanted her, wanted her, wanted her, most desperately.

Somehow Seto found his voice, though to both of them it sounded far away, his response drawn from somewhere deep within himself, and so he let himself walk on the line itself, dip his toe in the water: "...perhaps."

Ever the noncommittal, negotiating businessman. Ishizu fought the impulse to roll her eyes, yet part of her did not mind him dragging this out, whatever this was, this precarious duel of sorts between them in which Ishizu could play the aggressor and Seto, Seto Kaiba, as the reactive one; she'd never felt like a cat cornering a mouse more than she did in that moment, and never quite as… desired, certainly, as she did at this moment-in some bizarre turn of fate, she'd become temptress to someone with more earthly power than most could fathom holding in their hands.

It was fun for her, pure fun, this diversion, his reactions, the sensation of their hips pressed together; Ishizu could feel his shallow breaths coming in unevenly, nervously, as he was no doubt hoping he'd bought himself more time, more time to think of a way to salvage the situation, salvage his precious pride and run away before his libido, his disbelief, his unquenchable and thus unfulfilled need for her body undid him completely, never to speak of this again. Perhaps he could have her quarantined, he thought witlessly, though he knew he was one who was most likely to attack, to unleash a sort of monster he'd never allowed to believe dwelled within him-maybe he was the one who should be locked away.

Seto took a step back, hoping to regroup-and hit the wall. Fuck. His cheeks and neck were impossibly pink, eyes large and watery as he looked down at her, her, as she stepped in towards him, rejoining their hips and making him groan, groan as quietly as he could possibly manage, and leaned in, raising her hands-oh, her hands, thought Seto as he was reminded of just what he'd dreamt of those hands doing to him during his nightly torture-and pulling him down to her by the lapels of his button-down.

Ishizu allowed one of her hands to release the collar, to toy with the top button of his shirt as she wondered idly what his exposed chest looked like. Would he have hair? Would he be self-conscious of that fact, or would he be fastidiously waxed and shaved? She felt a certain coiling below her belly as she let her mind wander downward, imagining a dark trail of hairs beginning around his navel and leading her downward, downward to where his evident desire was currently pressed against her-gods, that does feel nice, though…

Seto felt something shift, felt something that was previously not there emerge between them as he noticed a slight blush rise on Ishizu's cheeks, watched her lick her lips almost thoughtfully. She's thinking about it.

She's thinking about it?

Oh god, I'm surely done for, aren't I?

"You're not sure?" Ishizu's lips were suddenly at the hollow of his throat, grazing the tight and tender skin there; Seto nearly cried aloud as she rolled her hips against him once more-more for herself than for him this time-and savored his reaction to this simple touch. Suddenly she was gone, lips and hips removed from his body; she was standing by her bed now-her bed!-, back turned to him, but she was looking at him, looking at him dangerously over her shoulder, black hair fairly glowing in the dim golden light of the room-remind me to fire whoever thought it would be cute to install mood lighting in the rooms, Seto snarled inwardly-and with a few graceful moves he could only see hints of, the silky cream robe dropped to the floor and pooled around her feet, leaving only her white linen nightgown, a simple dress that, on her, seemed absolutely obscene.

Ishizu turned towards him; Seto couldn't stop his eyes from drifting downwards, taking in her hair, those eyes, those voracious, frightening eyes, her lips, her neck, her chest, merely implied by the loose gown but still there nonetheless-her breasts were something he had dared to consider, imagine, even, imagine their shape, their texture, their weight in his hands-and when he looked up again Ishizu wore a perfectly Cheshire Cat-like smile as she simply paused, posture casual, nonchalant, just out of his reach. Let's see what this does to the poor boy.

They stood there like that for a moment, the gorgeous tension building, swirling around and between them as Ishizu fairly simmered under his ravenous gaze, Seto clutching his hands into fists, his groin throbbing, heart pounding in his chest, blood boiling and rushing in his ears, breaths coming in shorter and shorter as he couldn't stop looking, couldn't stop staring-

Should I?

I want to...

And then Ishizu, smiling seraphically, strode over to him, and brushed her lips against his own.

Seto froze for a moment out of pure shock-She's kissing m-me? Me-? F-fuck-; then Ishizu was the one who cried out in surprise as hands found her shoulders and his lips pressed against hers more firmly. She closed her eyes out of instinct as warmth shot throughout her body, felt a low growl in his chest, his tongue clumsily brushing against her lips, his hands sliding down her arms, clenching them tightly, hips straining against her own deliciously, and-

-And then suddenly his lips were gone, hands lifting from her reflexively, as if she were made of fire and he'd only realized what being burnt felt like, followed by a low, pained groan of, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

Seto Kaiba, apologizing? She truly never thought she'd live to see the day. He thinks he transgressed...

Ishizu opened her eyes slowly, her gaze falling upon the young man before her, one who looked utterly miserable, utterly ashamed, consumed with self-loathing and disgust at his own actions towards her; his shoulders were hunched, chin nearly touching his chest, hair falling in his eyes so that he didn't have to look at her and she couldn't see his eyes; mouth twisted in a furious scowl, arms wrapped around himself almost desperately, as if he were being rent in two and hopelessly trying to fight it simultaneously.

"I should go…"

Why is he so upset? He did nothing wrong... She bit her lip, worry at his current state rising like bile in her throat, before reaching out to touch his hand, to comfort him, to promise she wasn't hurt, wasn't upset, wasn't angry with him-did I take this too far? Have I pushed him too hard, played with him too capriciously? Gods help me, I did not want him to feel this way…

Her tentative hand brushed against his forearm, touching warming his skin through the shirt, and before he could say something awful, something cruel, something to make her hate him the way he hated himself right then, he heard her murmur softly, "It's all right, Seto. I promise you, it's perfectly all right." That was better than all right, matter of fact...

He felt himself nearly sniffle pitifully as he responded, voice the sort of flatness that barely conceals burbling tears of rage, "I shouldn't have done that. I wasn't thinking, you kissed me, I behaved stupidly… the effect you have on me-it's not fair, Ishizu, it's not fair…" I'm such an idiot- to think that kissing her like that was remotely acceptable, or appropriate, even given these circumstances… I'm hopeless.

Ishizu stepped closer to him and slid her hands up to his forearms, heart beating quickly in her chest, feeling her breath coming in slightly heavier than before as she rose up onto tiptoes and, before she could decide against it, pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Seto's eyes flew open, wide with alarm and surprise, as he dropped his arms and shuddered, something like hope mixed with pure panic rattling through him. "What--"

"Seto, I wouldn't have been... playing with you like that-kissed you like that-if… if I weren't interested. Which... which I am." She took in a sharp, cool breath, fully aware she had been forced to show her cards first, for despite his past coldness and current wretched vulnerability-or because of the stark contrast between the two, where, perhaps, the real Seto Kaiba lay in hiding-she could not claim that she was totally immune to him, to his body, to his charms, strange and erratic as they may be.

Seto lifted his head slightly, eyes wide and round, until they met hers, seeing something he couldn't quite make out shining in them. Is she serious right now? Could she be…? Could she possibly? "I do not, for the life of me, understand you women."

It came out a tad more venomously than he intended; Ishizu shook her head firmly and replied, "it's not a 'women' thing, Seto Kaiba, it's… an Ishizu Ishtar thing, I suppose you could call it…" Her voice trailed off as she ran her hands up his arms slowly, tentatively, to grip at his shoulders, feeling something stir within her as she moved his hips against his, a tiny smile curling on her lips as she gauged his continuing interest in her, in this, this utterly improbable scenario, such that is was, once more.

She rose up onto tiptoes again, sensing correctly that the mood had changed for the better, and allowed her lips to brush against his, delighting in the return of the adorable blush, the trembling hands somehow fumbling their way to her waist, warming her through her nightgown, and whispered rather huskily, "so, Seto Kaiba… willing to rethink your answer?"

Seto swallowed hard, her scent filling his nostrils and making him nearly completely hard again; the pressure of her hips against his was certainly not helping matters, not allowing him to think clearly, logically, to come up with the proper retort. "... Maybe…" he managed thickly, fighting the urge to move his hands to her rear, that gorgeous, perfect rear that he'd only imagined in those most painful and agonizing of dreams; his breath was coming in quick, embarrassingly so, and god, the way her eyes looked right then-he felt as though he would be swallowed whole.

Ishizu nipped at his upper lip, nearly knocking the wind out of him, as one of her hands slid down his torso, allowing her nails to caress his ribs over the cloth, his hipbone, before her fingers dipped under the edge of the white shirt, meeting heated skin; she felt a smattering of hair-she had been right, after all-leading down to…

"You're sure about that answer, Seto?" And her hand floated over his pants and brushed against what it had sought, causing Seto's eyelids to flutter, a tiny whimper dislodging itself from the back of his throat.

Ishizu smiled cunningly at his delightful reaction and continued rubbing that spot in a slow, almost lazy fashion, feeling him twitch against her palm. "Do you like this, Seto?"

"Unghhh…" A nod against her lips. That's good, Seto. That's the way…

"Well, if I-I were to say yes, I-Ishizu," she felt him gasp out against her mouth, "that-that'd mean I was-was propositioning you, right?" Liquid fire roared in his veins, the rational part of his brain shutting down, all energy and concentration being redirected elsewhere, to the feel of her hand against his pants as she slowly increased the pressure, a chuckle issuing from her lips and reverberating throughout his body…

Ishizu pulled her head back for a moment to meet his eyes, to study his face. The anger and self-loathing seemed to have vanished, all cares seemingly tended to for the moment, if not forgotten entirely, pupils dilated, his skin covered in gooseflesh, breath coming in near pants, as if he was running a race he had no hope of winning.

Yes. He did want this, did want her…

She was downright tickled at the prospect.

She dove back in, brushing her lips across his cheek to his ear, the lobe of which she took into her mouth-what is this sorcery, he nearly whined, unable to comprehend just what he was feeling, nothing except her hand on his groin and her tongue doing strange things in his ear- "I do recall telling you, Seto Kaiba, that if you were to proposition me, that I'd be quite inclined to say yes."

Say it.

Seto's eyes grew wet; he narrowed them for the briefest of moments in an attempt to right himself-although, with this bewitching, alluring woman before him, touching him in ways he'd only allowed himself to dream of, in ways he'd never been touched before, what exactly could he do? If she's lying… if she's merely toying with me…

...I will be utterly humiliated.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her hand, her mouth on his ear, before tentatively stepping onto the precipice. "...yes."

Ishizu ran her other hand from his shoulder to his lapel, tugging him down to her so that his lips rested by her ear. "Yes?"

Seto sighed thickly, eyes nearly rolling in the back of his head as she ran her fingers over him in a circular pattern, her fingers nearly trailing up to the waistband of his pants and just barely dipping inside, inside, before replying, voice coming out strained and slightly gruff with need: "Yes, Ishizu… this is me, propositioning you."

His words hung in the air for a moment as Ishizu seriously, truly considered their implications. He is clearly young and inexperienced in this sort of thing-it's obvious he's nervous, so nervous and nearly frightened of me, of what this could mean for us- is there an us in the first place? What does he expect will happen after this- after whatever is going to happen between us now-ends?

Seto closed his eyes, releasing a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, interpreting her silence as hesitation, as a rejection. Heartless woman-how could I have expected any different? I'm such a fool.

He finally felt like he might cry, might debase himself in that way, if he couldn't get control of himself immediately.

Ishizu felt his body sag against her, and released him, causing him to groan at her hand's absence from its blessed position against him; she ran her hands up his torso to hold his head in her hands, and pressed her forehead against his gently.

Or am I the one who is afraid?

She took a slow, careful breath before making sure her eyes met his; her questioning, cautious, almost gentle gaze was met with misery, with the tattered beginnings of dashed hopes; she decided, as uncharacteristically as it seemed at the time, to throw her cares to the wind, as it were, to accept his proposition, given with his heart in his throat, and come what may, regret nothing.

I will regret nothing.

"All right then, Seto Kaiba," she said quietly, allowing her lips to rest against his, causing his chest to thud painfully in anticipation-was I wrong? Could she really be-

I mean, I'm just-just-

"Although, if you expect this to progress much further, I'm going to need to show you a few things." And with those words, delivered in a coy, low voice, Ishizu closed her eyes and enveloped his lips with hers, pressing and grinding her hips against his, moving her arms to clutch at his hair, as Seto goggled briefly before he was rocked with a jolt of a pleasure at the motions she was making and closed his eyes, fists clenched tightly at his sides, before Ishizu pulled away for a moment, swiped her tongue along his lower lip, and whispered, "you're overthinking this, Seto..." She released his hair and slid her hands down his arms to grasp at his hands; she guided them to her waist and held them in place, rolling her hips against his in order to reinforce the message.

"Just do what comes naturally." And her lips nestled against his once again, sending a thrill through his body, down his spine and pooling between his legs, as he clutched at her waist, feeling her flesh, warm and soft, through the thin fabric of her nightgown, fingers gripping at her hard, as she moved her hips once more, feeling that tantalizing hardness pressing into her thigh, feeling her lower belly flutter, her senses heightened as she ran her fingers through that chestnut hair, sucking on his lower lip and making him emit such beautiful sounds, sounds that emerged from deep in his chest, and then his hands were moving, coming to settle on her rear, and she felt a small thrill of pride, of excitement.

Seto's heart skipped a beat, erection twitching at the perfectly plush feel of her rear beneath his hands, even better than he had imagined it in his most shameful and secretive dreams; while he was a world champion duelist and the CEO of a major tech company to boot, Seto Kaiba was nothing if not an eighteen-year old boy, with all of the urges and fantasies that often implied, and so as Ishizu began to pant against his lips, his gentle, tentative kneading clearly doing something to rile her up, Seto gripped her rear a little tighter, clutching at the fabric of her nightgown and pulling her hips even harder against his own.

Ishizu felt his hands caressing her, softly, almost reverently, and nearly pouted against his lips; she was beginning to feel the effects of his lust bloom within her as well, felt her mounting desire to have this young man, to have him well and ecstatically doing things between her legs, and to pleasure him in turn, turning that smart mouth into an elongated O, his cutting, clever words replaced with gibberish and wanton moans.

In order for that to happen, for things to escalate, to progress the way she-and he, clearly-wanted them to, he was going to need a bit more nerve. She removed her hands from his hair again, ran them along the sides of his face and down his neck, her nails causing him to shiver, and found his hands, still rubbing and kneading with more than a bit of caution, and slowly moved them to her chest, still concealed from him by the nightgown.

Seto nearly choked at the feel of her breasts beneath his hands, even beneath the dress he could feel their fullness, their weight, her peaked nipples; he was rather at a loss for what to do, how best to touch her, to make her make those sounds that told him he was doing it correctly, whatever it was; as Ishizu pulled her lips away from his, regarded him with a liquid, seductive glance, slipped the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, and pulled the top of her nightgown over her chest, pushing the fabric down so that it bunched up around her waist, Seto bit his lip and fought back a groan, a thick, heavy groan at the beautiful sight before him-

"Like what you see, Seto?" While Ishizu would never dream that she had a perfect body; her hips were wider than she'd like, her belly a bit soft from years of sitting at a desk rather than digging and excavating in the field, the way she'd been trained, she certainly had no complaints about her breasts, and, in keeping with her cheekily asked question, neither did Seto; he couldn't seem to look away, his cheeks growing cutely redder, his tongue emerging at an ever quicker rate to lick at his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down erratically.

He'd never seen anything like this-like her-before. Seto wanted to burn the image before him into his eyes, into his brain; something impossibly beautiful to remember even after whatever was to transpire between them ended, even after he woke up from what was surely a protracted, particularly vicious dream, for that is what this had to be, a dream, and he was going to wake up at any moment, erection weeping into the sheets and a sense of emptiness and several kinds of frustration wracking his body.

He cleared his throat, deciding that if this was a dream, it couldn't help to push the limits of what his sex-addled mind could conjure up, and so he asked, voice catching on the words, "can I-can I touch you?"

I need to tell her-before I disappoint…

Ishizu smirked and moved his hands to her breasts. "That's rather the point, Seto Kaiba." And then she pulled him to her, lips nibbling at his, extending her arms to grip at his shoulders, his hands exploring and reveling in the feel of her flesh, impossibly soft, impossibly touchable and perfect, just perfect and oh, his finger rubbed that small nub on one of her breasts, causing her to huff out a quick breath against his lips as moisture pooled between her legs-clearly, that works, he noted, repeating the motion on her other breast and causing her to bite his lip, a feral move he hadn't seen coming-not that he minded, of course.

Ishizu trembled beneath his palms as he got the hang of it, finding a rhythm and sticking to it, with enough small variations to surprise her-quick learner, this boy is, though she supposed that was just part of his natural intellect, his steep learning curve-once shown the proper way to do something, or once he discovered it on his own, he was unlikely to make mistakes. Gozaburo had drilled that into him; that a mistake made once was a punishable offense, but that a mistake made twice was utterly shameful and impossible to forgive.

Tearing his mind away from that, here and now, of all places, where that memory was particularly unwanted, Seto continued savoring the feel of her under his fingertip, running his nails over her nipples, prompting her to sigh gorgeously against his lips; and then he opened his eyes, lifting his lips from hers for the briefest of moments, as his eyes alighted on her bed, lying unassumingly next to one of the pale blue walls of the room, covers disturbed from when she'd left the warmth of her sheets to answer his knocking-that seemed ages ago now-and so, moving one of his hands to her lower back, he guided them gently over towards the bed and settled them down on the mattress, seated and facing one another.

"You learn quick." Ishizu, practically delighted at his bold move, his initiative, lowering her hands to his shirt buttons. "May I?"

Seto blushed then, blushed rosily and innocently, given the situation, for this, too was entirely new to him. It wasn't as though he had much spare time to attend to his physique; while he knew he couldn't possibly be a total eyesore what with the decent face and height and whatnot, he was all skinny arms and legs, with an embarrassing smattering of thin, dark hairs on his chest that he really ought to have taken care of (of course, how on Earth could he have imagined that he would have wound up in this sort of situation?)...

And yet Ishizu sat patiently across from him, her legs resting beside his, her eyes glittering with something dangerous and foreign to him, her fingers dancing along the collar of his shirt; she licked her lips, wondering what was running through that incredible, frustrating brain of his-was he reconsidering? Regretting? She swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks redden slightly as well; had she taken things too far with Seto? Too quickly? She fought the urge to fix her nightgown, to cover herself and try to pretend nothing of a prurient nature had transpired between them. Could she? Could she truly just dismiss him from her chambers, to go back to sleep and pretend that this had all been a strange dream?

Seto felt his stomach twist with bile as the words he'd been trying to push down for the last few minutes, ever since he'd laid eyes on her breasts, when things had advanced to a level where he wasn't entirely sure of himself, sure he could perfectly control and calculate his every action, his every reaction, threatened to escape his lips.

He suddenly slipped his hands into his lap, clenching them tightly together, and dropped his gaze to the floor, refusing-incapable-to try and meet her eyes, as Ishizu could only watch, confused, confused and worried that she'd done something to hurt him, to alarm him...

"Seto…?"

The air hung around her question like a noose.

His voice, when he finally replied, was cold and clipped-he sounded like himself again-as he replied, "Ishizu, I-I haven't done this before-anything like this before, really."

He turned away from her, shoulders hunched over, planting his feet on the floor as if that alone could save him, digging his fingernails into his palms until he was sure they could draw blood. "I just wanted to tell you, before you decided whether you wanted to continue."

That's what he's worried about? That's what's suddenly consumed him? The fact that he's…

That must have been his-his first kiss...

Ishizu sat for a moment and considered the gravity, the painful reality of what he had just divulged to her, something he'd likely never told anyone before-though, if he hadn't been in a situation like this before, then it's not as if the subject would have come up in casual conversation-and, frankly, she could have deduced as much on her own, if only because of the unfamiliar, unconfident way he kissed her at first, touched her before her encouragements, the sheer nervousness she'd observed in his eyes, in the shaking of his hands as he'd tried to deny, then express, his lust, his unmitigated need for her.

As soon as he'd come of age, Seto Kaiba, as a highly public figure in Domino, had had to see his face, his image, plastered all over Domino City's tabloids as an object of lust for over half the population-who was Seto Kaiba dating this week or that week? Which starlet or model was claiming to be sleeping with him for a bit of attention? And yet-and yet Seto Kaiba had thought little of such things, thought little of the rumors about his sex appeal, his sex life-and he'd merely continued his life as best he could, playing and winning Duel Monsters tournaments around the world (except for when it came to Yugi Moto, of course), continuing to invent innovative technology at home as CEO of KaibaCorp, not needing to be distracted by any of the women or men who fancied him, not feeling any such desire towards anyone in this manner, until-

Until her, her stupid pretty face, her stupid perfect figure, her everything that she was and promised with her eyes and voice and manner-and now, more than anything, he wished he'd gotten the whole damned process over with already, just picked one of his sycophants, someone, anyone, to save her the embarrassment of this impossibly awful situation he'd put them both in.

Ishizu studied the delicate curve of his shoulders and back through the white shirt, chewing on her lip, not sure whether it would be appropriate to touch him, to run her hand along his back, to comfort him, tell him she truly didn't mind, not if he didn't…

"Seto…" What can I tell him to assuage his fears?

I mean-is it true that I do not mind what he's telling me… what he is asking of me?

She took a deep, calming breath and decided to risk it; she placed her hand on his shoulders, feeling them tense up reflexively under her touch, a ragged sigh pushed from his lips. "Seto… it's not that it is a problem for me, per se-" she swallowed hard then, trying to think of how best to continue this most delicate of wordweaving- "it's that, well, I am of the opinion that everyone has the right to have their first time with this sort of thing with the right person-someone they truly like, someone who will be kind to them the next day…"

Am I the right person, in his eyes? The right person for this?

Seto turned his gaze on her, eyes frosty, before nearly snarling, "well, Ishizu, you're one to talk- how exactly did you manage to get it out of the way, Miss High-and-Mighty One?" How dare she talk down to me, as though I am a child, just because she, clearly, has experienced this and I have not…

Ishizu bristled at his sudden rudeness, nonetheless understanding his lashing out, his sensitivity surrounding the subject. "There's no need to be impolite, Seto. I did go to university, after all…" She thought back to that night, that balmy September night, during her Antiquities Master's Program, when the desire had first nipped at her ankles, making her first aware of its presence, her need for the young man she had been seeing, that then-and-now need, and so she'd led him back to her room, drunk on nothing but one another's presence and bodies; while the deed had been more than a little painful, he'd been nothing but kind to her afterwards. Until he wasn't-until he'd drifted away from her, leaving her to learn the art of kissing properly, of making love-or, rather, fucking-properly, as it often turned out, to other men.

There hadn't been many, over the last several of her twenty-three years, but there had been enough to show her the ropes.

Is this what he expects of me-to show him what this is supposed to be like?

That's quite a tall order.

Ishizu directed her eyes to his, her gaze clear and solemn, hoping to unearth the young man from beneath the reactive barrier he'd hidden behind after his admission. "Seto, I just want to be sure you've thought this through… I mean, this situation notwithstanding, you've made it clear you don't particularly like me…"

Seto groaned petulantly, burying his face in his hands. "It's not that- what, you haven't been able to figure it out already, Ishizu? I thought you were supposed to be intelligent, more intelligent than the idiots I have to deal with on a daily basis…" How exactly am I supposed to come back from that? I truly am the idiotic one in this situation- but why can't she figure it out-that it's not quite what she thinks-

"What are you saying, Seto?" Now it was Ishizu's turn to be exasperated with him, for what exactly was she supposed to expect? That this boy, who, excepting this strange oddity that was that night, had made a point of insulting and ridiculing nearly every aspect of her life, her beliefs, her pains, harbored other sorts of feeling regarding her? Was she truly supposed to believe that? The prospect, foolish, foolhardy, was rather like asking Ishizu to believe in miracles, which, despite her belief in fate and destiny, still managed to elude her grasp.

His voice was flat, eyes boring into hers suddenly with a sudden intensity that rendered her speechless. "What I'm saying, Ishizu, is that while I'm not exactly certain what all this means-" and he gestured to the both of them, indicated what had occurred between them only minutes ago- "I do know that you are the only person, woman or man, who has ever made me consider them worthy, worthy-"

"Worthy of you bestowing your kisses, your favor upon them?" Ishizu replied tartly. Am I supposed to be flattered by this admission? Should I just spread my legs for him right now, because, praise the gods, I am somehow "worthy" of him? I never intended-

No-dammit, that's not how I meant to say that- His pulse quickened at the unexpected fury rising in her eyes, feeling almost frightened, his need to express himself properly, correctly, before he fucked up absolutely everything between them, despite all that they had shared a short while ago, how they had managed to communicate in ways that, while unfamiliar and nerve-wracking, did not offer the possibility of him stumbling over his words to such detrimental effect- "Ishizu-please-that's not what I wanted to say…"

Has Seto Kaiba ever used the word "please" before in his life? Ishizu merely crossed her arms in front of her breasts, ignoring how ridiculous she must have appeared, posed like that, anger roiling beneath her skin, threatening to unmake her now-shaken composure, and awaited his response.

Seto shuddered, turning to face her, trying to exert some control over his body language, if not the way he delivered the words: "Ishizu, somehow, you are the only person who has-has tormented me like this, tormented me nightly with the mere thought of you… you are the only person I have ever considered-no, wanted in this way. Thus, being in the state that I was, my only thought was that you, of all people, were the person I had chosen right then for this… this act. All right?" Does that make you happy, Ishizu- now that you are privy to, now, several of my most embarrassing, painful secrets that I had not fathomed sharing with anyone, let alone you, of all people?

Ishizu's eyes widened. Gods… he said… he admitted… She nearly wanted to tear out her hair in utter confusion-could it be true, then, that her long-dormant interest in the young man, interest that had truly only reared its head earlier that night, was similarly returned? What he was saying… by all the gods, it didn't make sense-oh, but it did. It explained his sour behavior perfectly-not only that, but his fear, his nervousness, his hesitation with her, as if he was trying to figure out how to touch her, to handle her correctly, as if his very life depended upon the way he managed to give her some small amount of pleasure… the defensive way he had acted when she'd called him out… the sheer pain in his voice when he had admitted that he was a virgin, as if he'd kissed his chance at changing that status goodbye with no small amount of regret…

She softened then, a tiny smile sweetening her features, dragging her hand up to cup his flushed cheek. He shuddered, but did not shy away. The truth of the matter had proven a heavy burden for him, and he already seemed lighter, if a good deal more exhausted, for having revealed it to her.

Suddenly, Ishizu wanted nothing more than to…

She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, startling him in a not entirely unpleasant way. Does this mean-does this mean she's accepted this?

Accepted me?

He felt himself unclench, something warm beginning to flicker in his chest; he closed his eyes and moved his hand to her knee, trying to nibble at her lips the way she'd done to him, hoping to make her breaths come in heavier, to recapture the power he'd felt when he'd made her nearly whimper when he touched her earlier; Ishizu pulled away, however, and couldn't resist whispering coyly in his ear: "Why, Seto Kaiba, I had no idea you were such a romantic…"

Seto rolled his eyes, trying to take the joke in good humor. "Shut the fuck up." And with that, he pressed his lips to hers again, adjusting his seating so that their legs ran antiparallel to one another's on her bed, and he moved his hands to her cheeks before running them softly, reverently, through her hair; Ishizu shivered under his fingers, skin turning rapidly into gooseflesh as he trailed his nails down her neck as she had done to him earlier, before coming to settle on those breasts again.

Ishizu smiled against his lips, her hands returning to his shoulders briefly, then running her fingers along his collarbone to the top button of his shirt, still crisp despite his having slept in it, despite their earlier exertions...

"Do you want me to...?" And she tugged on the first button, gently to preserve the integrity of the shirt, but firmly enough to get her point across.

Seto flushed briefly, only moderately concerned that what she was about to see might not exactly be what she expected, before sucking carefully on her lower lip; pulling away slowly, opening his eyes to see sudden stars in hers, he pressed his forehead to hers and nodded.

Ishizu smiled crookedly, then-incredibly-pressed her lips to the tender skin of his neck, planting fiery kisses and nips on the skin there, causing Seto's hands to pick up their pace as he groaned, his careful stroking of her breasts becoming slightly more erratic in their motions, as she began unbuttoning his shirt, eagerly, punctuating the release of a button with a particularly suckling kiss to his neck.

Pulling away for a moment, she regarded her own progress, brushing her fingers below his navel, making him jump slightly in response, as she unhooked the last button; she ran her hands up his exposed torso then, eating the sight alive with her eyes: nothing but smooth planes of flesh, punctuated with a gentle spackling of dark hairs on his chest, and, as she had predicted, a thin line beginning around his navel and leading further south.

Seto shivered as she took her time touching him, mapping the lines and slight curves, the faintest of muscles on his torso, with the palms of her hands; as her nails brushed against one of his nipples, he screwed his eyes shut, nearly swallowing his tongue-I-I-when she touched me there-as Ishizu's lips quirked slightly, pleased with not only the sight before her, of Seto Kaiba's naked chest, barely concealing a dangerously thrumming heart, but also his downright adorable reaction to such a simple action; she repeated the motion, adding a slight flick to the patch of skin, revelling in the way he shivered under her fingers, the sharp intake of breath, the faintly muttered "fuck…" that threatened to unmake her.

Ishizu moved her hands up to his shoulders and tugged at the shirt, indicating-of this much, at least, Seto was certain-that he should remove the thoroughly unnecessary garment, and so he did, allowing the white button-down to crumple to the floor by the bed; she leaned in, having surveyed and observed her prize, and planted a kiss to the hollow of his throat, dragging her nails down his chest, circling his navel, causing his erection to throb painfully, before coming to the waistline of his pajama pants. Mmm… let's see what else you've got, Seto Kaiba. She licked her lips almost hungrily, imagining the dark thicket of hair, the hardness of the flesh currently outlined beneath the fabric-all hers, all hers; she lifted her head to his lips and kissed him again, licking at his bottom lip, opening her mouth when his tongue requested-no, begged for-access, and so she sucked on his tongue, sucked it like she would-if he wanted her to that is-suck other things, something not quite so benign as a tongue...

Her hand traced over the hardness in his pants; Seto's eyelids fluttered as he released a quiet whine from somewhere deep within his chest; my god, she's so good, so good, such a tease…; and his desire to touch her the way she was touching him rose within him, as he imagined, trying to fathom her wetness coating his fingers, the silky feel of the tender flesh between her legs; he moved his hands from where they'd been resting, rather uselessly, on her breasts, down to the place where her nightgown hit her knees; and when Ishizu asked, "May I…?", tugging at the waistband of his pants with her free hand, he replied, voice shaky: "I-I want to see you first."

Ishizu raised an eyebrow as Seto demurred, looking away quickly at his own lap; no, that surely did no good, as Ishizu ran her fingers over him, over his pants again.

Perhaps the boy is still shy after all? It wasn't out of the question, Ishizu reasoned, and she removed her hands, causing him to whimper at his loss of her touch, her damned caressing of him, and stood, her breasts at his eye level, before reaching down to the straps of her nightgown and pulling the garment over her head, the cool air hitting her flesh anew.

Clad in only her white panties, she still felt as powerful as she ever had, his gaze completely fixed on her, eyes like fingers combing her over, trailing over her face, her neck, her shoulders, breasts, waist, hips, legs… He briefly imagined those legs wrapped around his back as he did incredibly filthy things to her and bit his lip to stop from crying out, so tantalizing was the vision.

She started to sit down before Seto, hands fluttering to his waistband to help him shuck off his pants, as Seto licked his lips, summoning up further nerve from god knows where, moved his hands to the lace edge of where her panties met her hipbones, and whispered, "may I… please?" The foreign word was slow on his tongue.

Ishizu blushed then, blushed at his clear awe of her, his reverence of her body, the way his eyes flickered as they jumped from feature to feature, the slight pursing of his lips, the way his throat moved when he swallowed hard, and nodded; Seto took a deep breath, praying that he would not somehow muck this up, and slowly, tentatively guided them down her legs, cheeks coloring slightly when Ishizu giggled, almost girlishly, as she stepped out of them, for although this was not the first time she'd let a man see her this way, this was the first time any of them had treated her this way, like they both wanted to worship her and fuck her senseless; usually it had been one or the other-usually the former.

She wasn't quite sure what to make of his expression-his impossibly large eyes, scrabbling hands as they moved from her knees back to her hips, fingers digging into the flesh of her rear, that exquisite dark triangle of curls hiding what he so desperately wanted to explore, to know, to kiss, to lick, to fuck-and so, before he lost his nerve, he lowered his head slightly and brushed his lips on the expanse of skin between her navel and where the first signs of hair started, wanting, wanting, wanting…

This has to be a dream. It has to be a damned dream.

Ishizu felt something shift within her; her breath was a gasp as his simple action made her suddenly wet, so damned good and wet; she sat back down across him on the bed, squeezing her inner thighs together, and murmured, eyes boring into his, a hint of raspiness in her voice, "All right, Seto. Now you."

Seto, nodding roughly, nonetheless gulped as she ran her fingers under the waistband of his pants-will she laugh at me? What if I-what if I… disappoint her in some way? I mean, what if-compared to the others-and gently tugged them over his hips, smiling as his erection made itself visible, the cat fully out of the proverbial bag, him blushing furiously, then lifting his hips to help her ease the pants down his legs and onto the floor, where they lay, crumpled, beside the rest of their discarded clothes.

The fraught silence was broken by Ishizu's voice, bell-like and full of mirth, startled him. "The great Seto Kaiba doesn't wear underwear in bed?"

Seto's eyes watered with embarrassment; he ducked his head, moving his hands to his knees. Well, I did used to.. until… until… "They recently became… a hindrance, you might say." Ever since visions of the woman before him had begun to eat away at his rational mind on a nightly basis, he'd found it more prudent to just go without the constricting undergarments, to allow himself to explore, to get to know himself better, more easily.

"Ah." Ishizu smirked, understanding his meaning; she reached out her hand, hovering it about his erection-oh, how she wanted it, wanted it, wanted to touch it, wanted more than that, as a matter of fact-before asking quietly, leaning forward to brush her lips against his, "is this okay, Seto?"

Seto found himself rolling his eyes at her ongoing tentativeness. "You don't need to keep asking for permission, Ishizu…" He bucked his hips upwards slightly, trying to brush himself against her palm-just touch me already, please, touch me, touch me...

Ishizu kept her hand just out of his reach, making him groan with frustration. "Actually, Seto, I do have to-and I want to, as well. I want to make sure you're completely comfortable with escalating things; I want to make sure I'm not hurting or startling you when I do things of this nature. It's called asking for consent, and it's absolutely necessary." I don't want him to have any regrets. I don't want him to ever feel violated, uncomfortable, at any time during this…

"Especially since, well, since you and I have not engaged in this way prior to now, I think at least seeking consent verbally and clearly is the more rational and intelligent option…"

Seto met her earnest gaze as understanding dawned upon him-of course, he thought, that's completely logical of her-and so he recaptured her lips in a kiss, sliding one hand to her cheek to pull her in closer, closer, so that her scent wafted over him, imbuing him with perfumey notes of things he couldn't quite puzzle out; his other hand ran along the outside of her own, gently, as gently as he could manage, lowering it so that she could touch him, could fully grasp him; as he did so, they both let out asynchronous gasps, her at how good and nearly velvety and hard he felt in her hand, he at the mere fact of her, of this incredible woman touching him, as if his agonizing dreams had suddenly manifested into this twisted, cracked reality where-oh god, do that again-she was running her thumb over the head experimentally, looking for all the world entirely pleased with herself and with him.

Ishizu kissed him then, kissed him long and hard and firmly, sliding her tongue against his slightly parted lips, then sucking gently on the lower as she stroked him a few times, first slowly, then more quickly as he pulled away to rest his forehead against hers, to catch the breath he'd barely noticed he'd lost, his hips twitching wildly, skin erupting in endless gooseflesh at her actions. Mmm… what else can you do, Seto Kaiba? What else do you have in store for me?

"F-fuck," Seto managed, a ragged chuckle of pleasure threading through his voice, a bead of sweat beading somewhere near his hairline and threatening to drip down his chin; the desire inflamed him, that painful, agonizing desire for more, for more contact, to be able to feel what she felt like, what kind of beauty lay between her legs, wet and waiting for him to touch, wanting to just push her down on the bed and just be inside her, already-

He nearly yelped as he felt Ishizu's hand-or rather, its sudden absence from him-and then she was at the foot of the bed, leaning towards him, hands supporting her, eyes alight as she licked her lips. "Lie down." Mmm.. let's see how I can make you squirm.

Seto's eyes widened, heart pounding in his ears, as he complied, head hitting the pillow heavily, exposing himself fully, arms at his sides, as Ishizu placed her hands on his thighs, the warmth of her touch nearly scalding him as she eased his legs apart, causing them to bend at the knee, making room for herself between them; she leaned over, a wicked smile turning her features utterly bewitching, and he felt her ask, breath hitting him right there, fuck, "do you want this?"

Seto squeezed his eyes shut, hands fairly shaking with anticipation, thighs quaking under her cruel torture, as he managed a "yes, yes-fuck…" Fuck, Ishizu, if you don't do this I swear I'm going to lose it entirely...

Ishizu shook her head teasingly; her long hair brushed against his inner thighs. "More politely, Seto…" Heh. Teach him a thing or two… She lowered her head to right above where his curls began to collect, revelling in his evident suffering, his clear, apparent want, his need, that was nearly threatening to unravel him right there, and extended her tongue, licking a gentle line upwards to his navel, before kissing him there, making him buck his hips, and reversing the motion.

Seto tried again; tears trembling at the outer corners of his eyes, almost bubbling over as he whispered, voice cracking, barely audible: "yes, yes, please, Ishizu…" And before he utterly humiliated himself by letting those tears of frustration escape his eyes, he felt his heart stop in his chest as something warm and wet enveloped him-oh, God, fuck, yes yes please oh oh- Her mouth, her perfect, sinful mouth, doing something that eschewed rationality, made a mockery of reason, and oh, oh-it was, do that again-

Ishizu adjusted her position around him and flickered her eyes up, innocently, to meet his eyes, because from past experience she knew that some men liked this, liked getting head and eye contact at the same time for whatever reason-perhaps it made them feel more powerful? Desired? At any rate, Seto's gaze locked onto hers, eyes impossibly wide and vulnerable and wet, the movements of her tongue on him making his hips buck wildly, breath erratic; his fingers scrabbled towards her hair, tangling in the black, silky locks, trying push her head down, aching for more, more, more…

She lifted her head from him, catching her breath as he sputtered at the suddenly cool air; she placed a kiss on his thigh, then, feeling him tug at her hair, resumed her prior position, taking him in her mouth and sucking, bobbing her head up and down, until-

Until she tasted salt. Well… this puts a crimp into matters, now, doesn't it?

It's a bloody miracle he's lasted this long… poor boy…

Seto yelped in agony, in near shock as she lifted her head and gracefully wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Ishizu-what-" Don't stop-please, please, oh god, I was nearly close, dammit…

Her voice, honeyed and low, reverberated in his chest: "Seto, um… You've proven yourself to have quite the stamina, but if we continue like this… you'll have to wait longer to fuck me."

These dirtiest, most unholy of words, coming from her, looking for all the world like a seraph, a vision floating behind his eyelids, made him shiver with anticipation, with naked, unadulterated need, as Ishizu nudged him to move to one side of the bed so that she could join him; he obliged, the weight of what she had just uttered hanging in the air, and felt her warm, supple form press against his side.

She pressed her lips against his, delighting in his thunderstruck expression-Yes, Seto Kaiba, I am not all propriety and eloquence all the time-and watched his eyes flutter shut, felt his arms twine about her, one hand caressing her back, the other her rear, holding her close. "Is that something you'd want, Seto?" she whispered in his ear, rocking her hips against his for good measure, one of her hands dancing up his chest and onto his collarbone, the other propping her up against the pillow.

Do I- is she really asking if I-doesn't she know, can't she feel that I'm- Seto ground his teeth together, suppressing a groan, feeling her lips return to his, move to his cheek, his ear, before her tongue, her incredible tongue, slide in his ear, felt her nipples rub against his chest; "Y-yes, yes, Ishizu, god-" he managed to get out; then, remembering her directive, added meekly, "p-please…" Do not tease me anymore like this, oh, dear god, I'm not sure I can handle it.

Ishizu slid her hand down his torso, snaking it behind her to grasp at the hand that was currently (and rather awkwardly, given their positioning), clutching at her rear, and led it to between her thighs; his words, his prayer, his plea had done something more to her-her skin had suddenly become sensitive to his every breath, his every slight motion- she swore to the gods that the batting of his eyelashes was sending her lower belly into a heated coil. "First let's let you explore a little more, all right?"

Seto's fingers combed shakily through thick curls until he found what she had bade him to seek; then he felt her, felt the delicate, impossible softness, slick and tender, moved a finger around blindly, experimentally, catching wetness on that finger as he parted her-

She's like this… because of me? Seto groaned at the sensations on his fingers; praying that if this was indeed a dream, for it to end now-end now before he had the chance to regret dreaming it, because oh, god, he'd never felt anything quite like this before; as he stumbled about, trying to keep the motions of his hand gentle and slow, for injuring her while attempting to do this was certainly not what he had in mind, he was rewarded with a low, breathy moan, dislodged from somewhere deep within her. At that sound, drawing something into his chest he didn't know could existed, he knew then if he was to continue these ministrations for much longer, he certainly wouldn't last, wouldn't get to-oh god, yes,-to fuck her; so he withdrew his fingers almost regretfully, causing her to nearly mewl, because while he was tentative and amateurish in his motions, he definitely had not been doing anything wrong, and whispered hoarsely in her ear, "um… do you think we could…"

Oh, fuck, this is embarrassing, cried out the rational part of his brain, diminished as it was by his libido at this moment in time.

The rest of his brain, having fallen under the sway of his id, did not attempt to respond, to counter his claims; instead, he was struck with the memory of how she had felt when she'd allowed his fingers to explore her, to try to get to know her; how would it feel, though, to be inside…?

The thought was almost too much for him to handle, and so he nearly sputtered out, pretending she wasn't wearing a self-satisfied, seductive smile at his failure to properly express what he wanted to say: "please, Ishizu, please, can I fuck you-oh god, please, dammit, please…" The words came out breathily, growing more and more inaudible as he continued, panting heavily, as Ishizu pretended, for several dreadful moments, to consider the question.

Is she changing her mind? Is it too much for her to bear? Seto, despite himself, felt his heart careening in his chest, clenching the hand that still rested at her back into a fist, ready to run, to grab his clothes and run, tail between his legs, back to his room, back to safety and surety, where things fucking made sense and where Ishizu Ishtar was only a fantasy, not a complicated, surprising reality with her body pressed up against his, her wetness still on his fingertips…

Ishizu studied his deflated expression, thoughts moving rapidly, dangerously-for while oh, gods, did she want him to fuck her, to take pleasure in his eager, coltish body, for she could tell he was the sort of lover who would actually be concerned with her enjoyment of the act-well, if he's sure I'm what he wants… if I'm the person he wants to entrust this to….

As if sensing her thoughts, Seto tried to duck his head to press his forehead against hers. "I really want this, Ishizu," he muttered, voice almost gentle, and Ishizu allowed a genuine smile to appear on her face, lighting her features up vividly, almost terrifyingly with her beauty, nearly making Seto's jaw drop at the sight, like he had finally seen the sun after decades of darkness.

"Yes, Seto." Yes. I accept. She planted a kiss on his cheek and wriggled out of his grasp to come to a standing position by the bed, heartbeat picking up in excitement, in careless anticipation for what he would do to her, and she to him…

Hmm. I don't suppose… "Do you have a condom?" Ishizu heard him ask softly from where he still lay on his side, eyes having grown wide and serious.

I was about to ask him the same thing-! Ishizu looked back at him, wanting to laugh at this emerging predicament. "No, I do not, Seto Kaiba-while I am not a stranger to intercourse, it's not exactly like I planned any dalliances during your tournament…"

Seto slapped a hand to his forehead in pure agony, flopping back onto the bed almost comically. When he spoke next, it was in a thoroughly pained voice, colored through with what sounded like good old-fashioned sexual frustration. "Goddammit, Ishizu…" I'm such an idiot-it's not as if I have any lying around, though-not even at the Manor… Why couldn't he have just been like an ordinary eighteen-year old and gone to the drugstore, bought a box, slipped a few into his wallet-he was sure the idiot Joey Wheeler kept condoms on him, although, come to think of it, the thought of that brute engaging in intercourse was simultaneously revolting and hilarious; surely, Duke and Tristan would have been prepared, hell, even Yugi might be carrying-yet at this crucial moment, a moment Seto had scarcely dreamed of, and wasn't entirely sure was totally real now, they were coming up empty.

Seto rolled onto his side sulkily to face the wall, pouting adorably as Ishizu, mind still clouded with lust, tried to think rationally about where, just where on this endless zeppelin one might find a box of condoms. Seto's mind too was racing, scanning each of the various zones of the zeppelin much like an x-ray machine tore through flesh to reveal glowing bones; and then, suddenly, he had it.

"The infirmary-!" he nearly shouted, causing Ishizu to nearly fall over in surprise. What…? Could he be right? Oh gods, I hope he is…

"Please keep your voice down- I'm fairly certain you could wake the entirety of the hallway like that," she hissed, hardly daring to hope-while it seemed logical that the infirmary might in fact have a few condoms stashed away somewhere, it hardly seemed like Seto Kaiba to have put that into place, and Seto Kaiba was a micromanager of the worst sort, refusing to let anyone, even his hand-picked acolytes, handle something of any amount of importance during his tournament, dammit, but no-they had to hold out hope, that silly little concept, hope that some kind, benevolent supernatural being had indeed stocked the infirmary with the proper supplies…

Seto sat up abruptly, bending over to dig on the ground for his shirt, tangled as it was in Ishizu's castoffs, and slid it on around his shoulders before hoisting his pants around his ankles in a blind fury, a lustful, half-hoping, half-despairing rage-only to have Ishizu bend over and grip at his wrists, hiding back a trace of mirth in her voice as she asked, "Seto Kaiba-what in Ra's name are you doing?" As he smoothed his pants up his legs, her eyes were drawn immediately to his groin, his compromised state utterly and completely on display for anyone who might see him to observe.

Seto looked back at her, eyes narrowed in confusion. What does it look like I'm doing…? "...going to the infirmary?"

Ishizu pressed her free hand to her forehead, that earlier headache threatening to return in full force. Good grief. This boy...

"You absolutely cannot go out like that, Seto..." Ishizu bent over and picked up her nightgown and slid it down over her shoulders and hips; she walked across the room and picked up her robe, tying the silky fabric around her securely.

Seto blushed, suddenly remembering his condition, ...delicate as it was. "Ah... yes... that." My god, that could have been positively humiliating-imagine if someone found me like this...

Ishizu shook her head, resisting the ability to tsk-tsk at him, at his near-destructive foolishness; his cheeks had bloomed a particularly endearing shade of crimson, lower lip wobbling in that way that betrayed his age, his youth...

"Besides…" Seto quipped, a wry smile curling on his lips, "if anyone catches you, you can always…" and here he flickered his fingers before his forehead, widening his eyes for effect.

Ishizu crossed her arms in front of her chest, wholly unimpressed with his childishness. "Is that supposed to be me having a vision?"

"Whatever sorcery you like to call it. You can pretend you had some 'vision' that led you to wherever, because of...destiny or fate, or whatever you seem to believe."

"For someone who's trying to fuck me, you're not exactly going about it the right way," Ishizu retorted, yet revelling in the two tomato-red spots that appeared on his cheeks at her implications. Fair enough, Seto thought almost regretfully, ducking his head in some form of apology; fair enough; best not to antagonize the woman, after all...

Ishizu rolled her eyes. "Now, where exactly is the infirmary on this blasted blimp?" I'll be damned if I know; it's not exactly as if Seto bothered to give any of us the grand tour...

Seto groaned again, realizing that the task at hand was easier said than done. Why did I design this zeppelin like a fucking labyrinth? Why? Why?

I know why- I'm too damned clever for my own good.

"Ugh. Fuck. Okay, are you listening, Ishizu?" Seto sat down rather heavily on the bed, beckoning for Ishizu to sit beside him. Ishizu raised an eyebrow but acquiesced, crossing over to the bed and alighting on the crumpled sheets, trying desperately not to be distracted by him-by his gleaming eyes, his petulant, downturned mouth, the broad, almost fragile expanse of chest visible beneath his shirt, not to mention… that. Ahem.

Seto lifted his arms out before them, as if he were affixing an invisible map to an invisible wall. "All right, Ishizu. Here's where we are…" and he lowered his left hand about three inches or so, waggling his fingers to make his point.

Ishizu nodded slowly, seeing the hallway connected to the residential rooms clearly in her mind's eye.

Seto cleared his throat weakly, trying to ignore the ridiculous effect her mere proximity had upon him, upon his clearly addled mind, his poor, helpless, libidinous eighteen-year-old body; "Now, if you go down the hallway outside this room and make a left turn, you understand, a left turn, you'll find a door leading to a set of side stairs. Go up the stairs-you don't want to go down the stairs, because that leads to a highly secured area for which you don't have authorization." Retinal scanners, fingerprint scanners-she'd be caught-hell, I'd be caught-

He moved the fingers of his right hand in a tiptoeing motion rightwards and upwards, symbolizing the stairway exit. "Now, when you open the door, you'll find another hallway that leads to a fork. Take the right path-the left path leads up to the staircase to the roof, and I daresay it's far too cold right now to be outside…" Ishizu nodded her head impatiently, pressing her lips together to emphasize her impatience. Now is not the time for digressions, Seto…

"So after you make that right, Ishizu, then you'll come to a door with marked 'Infirmary'. That sign-in case you missed the point-demarcates the infirmary, which requires a passcode to enter."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the slight to her intelligence-classic Seto Kaiba, even when he was directing her to where prophylactics could be acquired to facilitate intercourse. Ever the unmitigated ass, Seto Kaiba. Of course, the infirmary requires a passcode. I would not have been surprised if the bathrooms required a passcode.

"So… what's the passcode?" Ishizu fixed her gaze on him, lips pursued, as Seto's face suddenly grew red once more and he dropped his hands into his lap, clutching self-consciously at his pant legs, a clear visual conduit to understanding the sudden minor torment that had evidently decided to rear its ugly head within his mind.

He mumbled something out of the corner of his mouth, something she couldn't quite make out, prompting her to let out an exasperated sigh as she placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently yet firmly.

"Seto, really, now is not the time to demur…"

"It's- it's July seventh- it's Mokuba's birthday." Disgusting. How sentimental, how damned sentimental of me.

Ishizu couldn't help but coo under her breath at the gesture, raising a hand to her lips reflexively. "Seto, that's really quite sweet-"

"Shut up. Do you have the directions memorized?" Seto growled, turning and flopping back down onto the bed, a scowl lingering adorably on his features as he stared at the ceiling, the wall, anything but her, just sitting there beside with that stupid expression-calling him sweet, for god's sake-fuck that.

Ishizu rose and smoothed the robe over her hips, a move that failed to escape Seto's notice. "Yes, I know where I'm going. Will you be all right here while I'm gone?" She smirked, directing her gaze to his groin, which had yet to relent in its demonstration of his desire for her...

Seto followed the direction of her sultry look and cocked his head. "Yes, Ishizu, I think I can keep myself entertained while you're gone." There's always something to do, now, isn't there? He certainly had no shortage of inspiration-he could easily conjure up the weight of her breasts in his hands, her lips enveloping him and nearly killing him with her mouth's perfection, the shiveringly amazing tenderness between her legs… Ungh, fuck.

"Hurry up, won't you?" he continued, throwing a lazy, lust-filled glance her way, hoping none of the rising, almost desperate need was evident in his voice.

Ishizu bowed her head, his meaning all too clear-after all, it wasn't as if she didn't want this, want him, as well. She crossed over to the door, opened it with a swift, graceful motion, and slipped into the darkness of the hallway, closing it behind her, just barely hearing him grunt softly, "fuck…"

Left, up the stairs, right, door. Simple enough. And she crept silently, breath controlled, in and out through her nose, as she had taught herself to do during her youth, all those years spent underground in endlessly echoing chambers, visiting Marik and Odion late at night to whisper, to joke, to play silly games with one another, hoping to avoid the uncontrollable anger of their father… She released a particularly heavy breath at the memory, refusing to let it cloud her mind at this time, simply keeping on moving, advancing, the way she had always done throughout her life, past the other doors on the hallway where, no doubt, Yugi and his friends slept the sleep of the unbothered, left, opening the door, gliding up the stairs, then turning right, approaching the door, clearly marked for convenience, extending a sure finger and punching in the code.

The door hissed open, sliding out of her way, allowing her access to the sterile white environment of the infirmary-several small windows, some tables, a section further back separated by white curtains, and rows and rows of shelves and medicine cabinets…

She tried not to think too hard about who lay behind the curtains, hooked up to a machine that only Ishizu could hear right then, its beep-beep-beep continuing steadily, endlessly and promising nothing.

Ishizu unclenched fists she hadn't realized she'd been making and set to work, eyes adjusting to the dim moonlit room, scanning shelves, peeking into the medicine cabinets and searching methodically for a familiar wrapped packet or two, gods, they had to have something in these first aid kits, no?

Then, almost impossibly, her trembling fingers brushed against one promising piece of plastic, then another, then-

Yes-yes! Thank you. She offered a silent prayer to whomever was listening, for some being had to have taken heed of her clearly vocalized desires, and picked up several of the packets before closing the door to the medicine cabinet and slipping away quietly as she had come.

Seto, sitting on his hands this whole time, had just decided to fuck it, to strip down again and touch himself as he so desperately needed to-then he heard a quiet knock at the door. Fuck. That had better be…

"Who's there?" he called out, then regretted it instantly; if it were Yugi Moto or one of his idiotic friends, come to seek Ishizu's counsel at this late hour, and heard Seto Kaiba, of all people on Earth, speaking out from in her room…

God, that could be potentially catastrophic for everyone involved, possibly resulting in the offending party being forcefully ejected from the zeppelin.

A pause, then a sigh. "Who do you think it is, Seto Kaiba?" … Remind me to scold him for designing these doors to auto-lock…

Seto sat up sharply, heart thudding in his chest at the sound of her voice, and strode, half hopped, over to the door and opened it quickly, warmth flooding his body at the sight of her, and then she slid past him, gentle as a breeze, and, after he closed the door as quietly as he could manage, brandished the condoms with a triumphant smile on her face.

Seto's shoulders sagged with relief, blood flooding his face and...other places; he licked his lips and studied the small packets resting in her hands, the dark blue color of the plastic, and, partially hidden by one another, lettering in light blue, a combination of letters he somehow recognized…

Well, fuck. As if this couldn't get any more embarrassing for me…

Seto cleared his throat, wrapping his arms around his waist almost shyly; curious, Ishizu followed his gaze to her palms, and studied the condom packets resting there.

A K… is that a C? Gods, this cannot be real-cannot be…

Her voice was half amused, half disbelieving, as she lifted one of the packets in the air for closer inspection. "Seto… are these… KaibaCorp-brand condoms?"

Seto thought he would have a nosebleed at that moment- a blood vessel would surely burst out of sheer humiliation, undoubtedly; his stomach twisted itself into knots, eyes growing round in wonderment as Ishizu Ishtar threw back her head and laughed. Not a giggle at his expense, not a soft, demure chuckle behind one hand, but true, honest-to-god laughter, tears bubbling at the corners of her eyes, eyes bluer than he'd ever seen them, her white teeth flashing, nose and cheeks turning a rather-dare he say it-cute reddish pink, her hands moving to her belly as the condoms dropped to the floor; this was truly it, she thought-this, of all the utterly strange and ridiculous things that had occurred in the life of Ishizu Ishtar that night, this, the KaibaCorp-branded condoms-that was the complete last straw. A tiny tear of mirth began to trickle down the side of her face; her breath coming in pants, her stomach cramping from the exertion of such an acute bout of laughter; Seto could not help but stare at her, her sheer joy at this situation, for, as much as it pained him to admit it to himself, the sight of her laughing at him like this was possibly one of the most beautiful he'd seen in his life.

She nearly doubled over, nose beginning to run-I am surely going mad, aren't I?-as the full-bodied laughter threatened to give her hiccups; so she tried taking deep breaths, fully aware that she must look quite a ridiculous picture, and eventually, her breathing steadied, the pain in her side diminishing gradually as she straightened up, her eyes coming to meet Seto's own, which, despite the scowl on his lips, looked rather soft, somehow.

"Had your fun?" he murmured, a hint of wryness in his voice, as he watched her wipe her eyes, her nose, watched her shoulders slowly stop moving, watched the fit of hysterical laughter come to an end.

Ishizu raised an eyebrow, licking her lips before running her hands up his torso to grasp at his lapels. "Not nearly, Seto Kaiba." And she pulled him to her, pressed her lips to his, inflaming them both once more, as his once-nervous hands carefully found their way to her waist, sliding to her rear, holding her hips against his tightly, causing them both to shudder at the contact; she broke away and sucked on his earlobe, then whispered, her voice marvelously ragged and wanting, "believe me, I'm merely getting started."

Seto's eyelids fluttered shut at the feel of her tongue in his ear; and then, with a heavy, thick gasp, the feel of where her hips met his nearly driving him insane, managed to mutter: "Bed? Bed? Please, Ishizu, please…" Please don't make me beg, please, please… f-fuck...

Ishizu smiled seductively, pulling away from him and catching his gaze with hers; it was impossible, impossible, to look away, to not be captivated, held in thrall to her just through the power of her gaze alone; her hand gently found his and she bent down, scooped up the condoms, and led him over to her bed, with its tangled sheets and memories of one another's flesh.

She briskly lifted her hands to underneath his shirt, grasping his shoulders; "Is this all right?" she asked quietly, at Seto's vigorous, almost comical nod, together they managed to remove the offending garment, then she ran her finger down the tantalizing line from his navel to the waistband of his pants, making him twitch violently, and then she sank to her knees and pulled down his pajamas, helping him step out of them; then it was her turn, and Seto wanted, somehow, both to reverently, tenderly help her undress, and also to rip her clothes off her, freeing her body from their constraints as quickly as humanly possible, and so he settled for untying her robe rapidly, fingers shaking as he slid it down her arms, letting to drop to the floor, and then he whispered in her ear, "may I?" And at her pleased, somewhat impatient "I think you'd better," he carefully-oh so carefully-helped her out of her nightgown, the dress drifting, cloudlike and slow, to the floor.

He swept his eyes over her naked body once more, willing himself to wake up if this indeed was a dream-for a dream, though, it was strangely specific, strangely twisted, as if his subconscious had quite the sick sense of humor…

He lifted his hands and ran them down her sides, scarcely believing he was touching her again-her, the temptress of his dreams and tormentor of his slumber-holding them at her waist; and then they were on the bed, by what magic or sorcery he was uncertain, and suddenly she was beneath him, hair spreading out on the pillow behind her, dark, angelic, her eyes luminous and wanting, his hips holding hers in place, pinning her against the bed, erection straining against her inner thigh, the agony, the sheer agony of being so close, so close to being inside her, dammit, inside that perfect, unholy wetness behind that tangle of curls; and just as he was about to ask permission, please, end this torture now, she suddenly pushed him off of her briefly so that she could reach down for one of the apparently hilarious condoms.

"If this has a Blue-Eyes on it, I'm calling this off," she warned playfully, watching his eyes widen, hands beginning to shake with nervousness as she tore open the packet with expert fingers- ah, excellent, pre-lubricated- unrolled the condom- "Luckily for you…" she released the air in the tip carefully before reaching for him; he nearly gasped as she rolled it onto him with ease, the strange sensation enveloping him, oh god, this is real, this is actually happening…

If the dream were to end now, if that was all this turned out to be, it would be unendingly cruel.

She repositioned herself beneath him, still keeping him in her gentle grip. "Are you sure about this?" she asked quietly, almost tenderly-gods, I want this- I want this-please-

His eyes locked onto hers; he leaned down, pressed his forehead against hers, and sighed, giving up all fear, all nervousness, just, for once in this life, allowing something other than intellect to guide him; his chest grew tight at the sight of her, her pursed lips, her waiting eyes-and nodded. "Yes, please, Ishizu, please…" his voice caught on itself, trailing off into silence; and then she moved him and suddenly he was inside her, oh god, oh fuck-

Ishizu released a blessed-sounding groan at the sensation, at the necessary feeling of him filling her, because while this scenario was still unexpected and uncanny, this was Seto, of all people, this mysterious and downright confusing young man, wanting her this way, and lifted her head to capture his lips with her own, for he had frozen in place, still in shock at the feel of this, unlike everything he had dreamt of, anything he had never imagined of her, of being held like this, held so close to another person.

"You're overthinking things, Seto…" she cooed, rolling her hips, hoping to get him to move a bit, to get a rhythm going-mm, come on, Seto, come on, please- and suddenly he came to life a bit, something like a tear pricking near the inner corner of his eye, as he tried moving his hips against hers, to see how that felt for her-

Oh… that was… She released a long, languorous breath of pleasure as he started to pick up the pace, whispering in his ear, whispering her enjoyment to encourage him, to spur him onwards; as he somehow managed to hit a particularly good spot within her, she moved her hands to his hand clutched at his hair, pulling his lips to hers, accepting his tongue into her mouth, releasing a moan as he tentatively brushed his hand along the outside of her thigh, bending her knee to curl around his waist-mm, he's getting the hang of his-and then he lifted his head to kiss her neck, experimentally sucking on the tender flesh there; gods, that's a steep learning curve, alright; she closed her eyes and bit her lip as he traveled downwards with his lips, skimming along her collarbone before trailing downwards; her hands found his head, pushed him down further; he rounded his back so that he could suck on her nipple as her breath began to emerge in labored pants, the rhythm of his hips unceasing, the tightness of her making him nearly whine, the impossibility of how good she felt around him and how good he felt inside her causing them both to cry out, their voices thick and shaking.

Seto gasped, teeth dragging on her nipple, as she lifted her other leg to fold around his waist, encircling him, feeling the muscles of his back, driving him deeper, deeper, oh god; she slid her hands underneath his arms and clutched at his back, fingers splayed; at a particularly good buck of his hips-fuck-she couldn't stop her nails from digging into his shoulder blades slightly, making him yelp in surprise as the flash of pain mingled with the incredibility of the way she felt; she whispered quickly, "sorry-did that hurt?"- "No, no, no, that was good-" And so he shuddered as she did it again, running her nails up and down his spine as his pace began to grow more erratic; oh-fuck-already...? Seto bit his lip in frustration, causing her to whimper at the abrupt lack of attention to her breasts, frustration at his sheer display of amateurism, that he'd only been able to last for what had to have been just a few minutes inside her, god, so good, so good…

Ishizu felt his hips spasm and stutter wildly; with a tiny moan she realized, much to her selfish chagrin, that he was close, and while she felt fantastic, his gradual ability to figure it out and figure it out well warming her from within, the noises he was making as he experienced this for the first time sending shivers down her spine, it wasn't enough; she'd done this enough to understand that it couldn't be helped, and, with especially in this particular case, she certainly wouldn't press the matter-this was about him, she rationalized, about Seto Kaiba and his first time engaging in this act, and so she lifted her head, slid her lips along the shell of his ear, and murmured softly, "Seto, are you close?"

Seto nodded furiously, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face; "but-but I want to make you come, too-fuck, oh god, I do, I want to…" What good could I possibly be at this if I can't reciprocate properly…?

Ishizu sighed, almost sadly, and sucked on his earlobe, feeling his pace growing quicker, squeezing her legs around his back so that she could wring every last ounce of pleasure she could before he was spent; "Seto, don't worry about it… it's unlikely it was going to happen on your first try…" she whispered, trying to soothe him. After all, it's hardly possible, hardly logical of me, to expect miracles...

Seto blanched at her resigned tone, yet as Ishizu continued, "next time, we'll try that out, shall we?" he flushed briefly at her implications-and suddenly found himself unable to stop, hot blood rushing through him, so good, so good, adrenaline hitting him in sharp waves, shoulders shaking under her nails, breath growing erratic as Ishizu closed her eyes, threw her head back, giving him access to the tender flesh of her neck; she began to pant, breath ragged as he kissed her there, and then, as he felt himself fall apart, he growled with a strange, unintended roughness in his voice: "kiss me," and so, feeling his urgency, she raised her head and pressed her lips to his; as her tongue swiped against his own, he felt himself tense, tense wonderfully, toes seeming to curl automatically, almost to the point of pain; and then the pressure lifted, he felt both light and impossibly heavy at the same time, more relaxed than he could ever remember feeling as he released a long, slow breath, body sagging on top of hers as his heartbeat thrummed wildly throughout his body, ever so slightly slowing down, bit by bit.

Seto licked his lips, all his energy for motion, for talk nearly, completely spent, but still wanting to know, to understand how Ishizu was, how she felt at this moment-is she frustrated? Bored with me? Still wanting…? The least I could do is- and so he allowed his lips to rest against hers as he unclenched his neck, eyes somehow wet, incredibly wet, dangerously wet, and sighed against her mouth, the sensation tickling her skin as she caught her own breath: "th-thank you. Thank you so much."

Ishizu smiled and kissed him, hands rising up to run through his impressively messy hair-

And then a drop of moisture landed on her face and ran down her cheek, startling her. Sweat? Or…

Could it be? By all the gods-

"Seto, are-are you all right?" she asked, worry evident in her voice-gods, could I have done something to the poor boy?-for, before her own eyes, Seto Kaiba was-was crying, his nose red, cheeks stained with tears, tears dripping from his long eyelashes; his own expression was thunderstruck, then, as he felt the water on his cheeks, it shifted to utterly embarrassed-humiliated by his reaction to-to this. Oh god, what in the fuck am I doing? I'm… I'm crying? Oh, fuck, oh, fuck-now she must be concerned- is she frightened by my reaction?

He lifted himself off and out of her, wincing slightly at the loss of her around him, and rolled over onto his side, facing the wall, his back to her, unable to look her in the eye, to see that look of damned pity on her face, the look he was sure was there…

"I can't even do that right," he muttered, more to himself than to her, sniffling slightly to stop his nose from running; Ishizu sat up beside him, spine stick straight, and turned so that she could observe him; "Seto, please, are you all right?"

Seto rolled onto his back, turned his head and scowled at her. "What does it look like, Ishizu? I'm not alright- I mean- I am, but-I just managed to have sex, incredibly, somehow, and it felt so good-I'm so-so happy-and now-now I'm crying? Tell me- tell me, is this normal- do men cry when they-when they-" His hands were shaking now, shoulders nearly by his ears, his back rounding as he pulled his knees into his chest, seeking to bury his scarlet face and red-rimmed eyes in his knees, to shy away from her, because how could she ever see him in a sexual light again, having seen him practically weep as soon as he'd come?

Ishizu let out a sigh of relief-she hadn't done something wrong, hadn't hurt him or wounded him, thank the gods- and ran her hand along the curve of his spine, caressing him gently, trying to soothe him. "Seto, while I've never done it, I do know that sometimes, after engaging in intercourse, people do cry, even when it was good-especially if it was good… there's nothing wrong or shameful about it- you've just released quite a lot of hormones into your system, and now you're having a reaction to that."

"You promise?" came the muffled, petulant voice from behind his knees.

"I promise, Seto Kaiba." She felt him tense up under her touch, then, as her words sank in, he gradually relaxed, choosing for his own sake, his own sanity to believe she was speaking truth and not empty words, lies meant merely to comfort and cover up the wound like a bandage…

He unfolded, tears having stopped now, and stretched out beside her on the bed once more, breath evening and steadying; she smiled, eyes alight, glad he was finally recovered, that he wasn't punishing himself, and bent her head to kiss his cheek.

Seto heard her clear her throat as she lifted her head- "Seto, were you planning on disposing of that condom, or…"-and he flushed again, remembering the rubber he was still wearing, and covered his face with his hands, slightly embarrassed rather than soul-crushingly humiliated, hips bucking unexpectedly as Ishizu removed the condom and rose off of the bed, immediately feeling her absence as she walked over to the trashcan, dropped the useless thing inside, and returned to the bed, dragging the sheets from where they had crumpled onto the edge of the bed and pulling them over their bodies.

Seto turned to lie on his side, this time facing her, eyes tracing her every feature, every perfect aspect of her face that seemed impossibly better, more radiant, than the Ishizu Ishtar of his imagination; she returned his gaze, eyes sweeping over those cheekbones, the finely molded jawline, those lips that fluttered slightly as he breathed in and out; and then their eyes met, and Ishizu raised an eyebrow while Seto smiled slowly, crookedly, as if the two of them had just shared a particularly excellent private joke.

He'd never felt like that with anyone before-perhaps Mokuba when they were small children, but certainly not now-not with a woman; he could not have fathomed sharing such a moment with this woman, but, he rationalized, heart thudding in his chest, it could really only be this woman, this frustrating and extraordinary woman who lay next to him, her breaths in time with his own.

"Mmm… what time is it?" he found himself asking; a view of her breasts greeted him as she slid up the bed, peeking at the clock by the Necklace on the nightstand. "Nearly four," she responded, sliding back down and tangling her legs with his under the cool sheets.

Nearly four… gods, that was quite the two hours… She felt herself yawn, yawn broadly and rather loudly, lifting her hand to cover her mouth reflexively, as Seto groaned in response to her announcement. "Are you serious, Ishizu? Four o'clock?"

"Do you have somewhere to be, Seto?" Ishizu recovered from her yawn and propped her head up on the pillow with her arm. At this late-rather, this early hour? I should hope not…

"Well, I do usually wake up at five…" And its not like I managed to sleep any before I came to her room…

"Five?" That number seemed particularly obscene. "Why five…?"

Seto cracked a sardonic smile at her. "Old habits die hard, I suppose…" Gozaburo had forced him to spend much of his youth rising at five am, practicing his math tables on just four or five hours of sleep, that on top of hours of tutoring, beginning at eight and ending at eleven, followed by more drills with his stepfather, even when he was ten, eleven, twelve, his body struggling to adjust to the pitiful amount of sleep he was allowed… and, on the few occasions he could not handle the pressure and fainted during his lessons, he would be forced to make up for that lost time during his allotted sleeping hours…

His face twisted, expression growing stony briefly at the memory. As a result of that training, Seto found it impossible to sleep for more than four hours at a stretch, often working late into the night and early into the morning before collapsing into his bed for a few all-too-brief hours. After all, now that he was CEO, there was business to attend to each day, business he could never delegate to some idiotic underling, not to mention the mind-numbing homework he brought home from school each day…

Ishizu watched the shifting emotions on his face and nodded slowly, understanding that for some reason, his own private one, he did not wish to elaborate on the matter.

"Well, you're the head of this tournament. Do you have anywhere to be tomorrow-rather, today? When do the finals begin?"

Seto smirked to himself at the reminder of the finals... His duel tower... His ultimate victory over Gozaburo... "We're on our way to the final location. Shouldn't take more than a few days."

"So we're done with the ridiculously unsafe rooftop duels?" Ishizu quipped, running her hand along his collarbone idly.

Seto rolled his eyes, his breath growing sharp at her touch. "Those?-pah, those were nothing-those were trifles. The real spectacle will be during the finals. And I will win."

For my brother's sake, I can only hope that is not true. Ishizu swallowed hard as she studied the change in him-he seemed like himself again: arrogant, confident of himself, of his ability to win... and endlessly vengeful, especially with regards to Yugi Moto and this tournament.

"So... you don't have anywhere to be today, is what you're saying?" Ishizu asked, leaning in close, brushing their chests together, pressing her lips to his cheek and moving them downwards.

Seto gulped aloud, her every movement sending a rush through him, before sighing into her touch as her fingers traveled to his hipbone and rubbed in a slow circle on that expanse of flesh. Mmm... tempting... "Well, I do have some company business to attend to during that time-" and he gasped as her hand wandered between his legs; he then froze as a particularly cold, dangerous thought caught ahold of his mind.

Ishizu, frowning, sensed that the mood had suddenly changed, and slid away from him, their bodies separating. "Seto...?" What could he be thinking of now?

"What happens now, Ishizu?" His eyes, round and innocent, bored into hers; his tone almost plaintive; clearly this subject was of some importance to him, and, she realized with a pang, to her as well.

Where did this strange encounter leave them? Were they not equals now, if not lovers?

Could they even be more than acquaintances-could she someday call Seto Kaiba a friend?

The idea seemed almost laughable to her.

Seto's mind raced similarly; how to speak to her, how to address her in front of the others; what was appropriate? What would show favoritism, what could give them away, rip the secrecy and intimacy away from the matter and drag whatever this was into the cruel, harsh light of day?

Ishizu cleared her throat. "Seto... I don't think much has to change. You can still be yourself around me when we are in public-all I ask is that you be not quite so disrespectful towards my beliefs. After all, there is much you do not understand, that you refuse to accept..."

Seto fought the urge to roll his eyes and nodded slowly. "I understand. But-" and here his hand lifted to her arm, tracing a line down from her shoulder to her elbow with his index finger. "...what if I want this again?" His heart was in his throat; after all, she had implied there could be a "next time"; was that just another game she'd been playing?

He still had so much to learn about her, he realized, and she him...

Ishizu allowed herself to smirk at him, surprising him with her cheeky expression. "Well, Seto, I know you don't necessarily believe me, but, one of us actually can see the future," she teased.

What in the... "Don't tell me it actually works like that," he scoffed in reply, his tone masking his uncertainty. After all, while he refused to believe in her so-called magical necklace or in her power when she used it, despite having seen it in action-he still dismissed that as a fluke, a mere trick of the light-he wasn't one to take her lightly in this case...

Something truly frightening struck him. Fuck... It cannot be... It can't! "Please tell me you didn't foresee this..." That would be the last straw for him-the utter last straw, for if she had seen this whole affair occurring before he knew he wanted it to happen, that surely had to be cheating. Or something.

Ishizu's face was coquettish, eyes gleaming with humor. "I guess you'll never know, will you, Seto Kaiba?" See how he likes that, the overconfident, cocky...

She leaned in towards him teasingly; he leaned in further and captured her lips with his, hand sliding to the curve of her waist, the flesh soft and warm beneath his fingers, her sudden breathy moan beckoning, and suddenly the room was nearly silent, filled with only the quietest of groans at the motions of her hands on him, the softest sighs as his fingers trailed her inner thighs...

Then, tentatively: "Say... Ishizu... how-how many of those condoms did you grab, again?"