Chapter Three:
The hat remained in Seto's possession the next fortnight. He had no way of contacting the stranger to retrieve it, so it remained with him, resting on a shelf in his wardrobe, all but forgotten. Or, at least, forgotten in his waking hours. At night, Seto's dreams were filled with a deep voice whispering mischievously. With bright red eyes unlike any he'd ever seen before. More than once, he'd woken up, hot and breathless. And disturbed at the depths of which this strange affected him.
Around the first of September and the beginning of the harvest season, Seto went in to London. The bustling city was as crowded, noisy, and dirty as it ever was. In a mere hour, Seto had dodged over two dozen vendors, beggars, and even a pickpocket, who melted quickly into the crowd when Seto saw him at his elbow, reaching for his pocket. He was gone before Seto could get a good look at his face.
Finished with his business and eager to head home, Seto was turning a corner when a bright red flash caught his eye and he looked automatically. On several occasions he'd found his gaze drawn by glimpses of red, though these had invariably been flowers, signs, or some such mundane thing. Not this time, though. Strolling placidly along the walk across the street was the red-eyed stranger. He was not alone; on either side and a step behind were two attendants, one young and nervous-looking and the other much older and looking annoyed to be where he was. He was talking to the stranger irritably, but seemed to be being largely ignored.
Seto hesitated, then crossed the street and followed the stranger and his accompaniment for a distance. The stranger turned in to a shop, much to the displeasure of the older man, whose scowl Seto could see from where he stood. The attendants followed their master inside. When Seto reached the shop, he saw that it was a bookshop. In the window display was a shiny new copy of Thomas Paine's "The Age of Reason." Quite the bold thing for the shopkeeper to do.
Seto entered the shop. It was a tiny room; two adjacent walls were lined with shelves, and three stand-alone and parallel shelves took up nearly every available space. There was barely enough space to walk. The opposite corner was taken up by a selling counter, behind which stood the shopkeeper. The expression on his face was simpering, eager-to-please, a man who would lick your boots for a sale. Seto ignored him disdainfully and looked around. The stranger was not in sight, but Seto could hear the voice of the annoyed servant from behind the furthest of the three parallel shelves and see the tail coats of younger, nervous servant's coat.
"You shouldn't be reading these things, Master," the old man said. "They're full of dangerous, radical ideas."
"That's why I like them," the stranger said audaciously. "And if you're going to whine in my ear like a hornet all day, James, you can leave."
There was a short silence that was filled with the tangible sense of offense taken, then the old man started again, telling the stranger that his father would not like the news of what the red-eyed man was doing, at which point the stranger was fed up and ordered the old servant out. Both attendants left the shop. As they passed Seto near the other end of the shop, Seto could hear the older one muttering darkly. The younger one simply looked perpetually frightened. Seto waited a moment, then went around the end of the last bookshelf. Down near the end, by the merging corners of the two wall shelves, stood the stranger, skimming through a book. Seto stood and looked at him for a moment, then walked over.
"I see you've found another hat," he said.
The stranger looked up. A delighted smile spread across his face.
"Yes, I did. But I rather liked the old one. I don't suppose you still have it."
"Maybe somewhere," Seto said carelessly. He didn't want to seem as if he'd been thinking about the stranger at all.
The red-eyed man smiled again, then snapped his book shut. Seto saw that it was a slightly battered copy of "Madam Bovary." An extremely bold person, this stranger was, reading such things in public, and the shopkeeper as well, for selling them.
"Then let us go get it."
Seto blinked, then frowned. "Just like that? How do you know I haven't anything better to do?"
The stranger put the book back on the shelf. "Even if you do, I want my hat back."
"Then you shouldn't have lost it, if it's so important."
The stranger ignored that. He glanced towards the front of the shop and frowned. "If I leave, those fools will follow and whine incessantly some more. I rather think I shall avoid them." He looked over his shoulder. At the back of the shop, bisecting the wall shelf, was a doorway that led to the shopkeeper's storeroom. It was blocked from view from the front by the stand-alone shelves. "Come on."
The stranger ducked boldly into the storeroom. Seto followed reluctantly. The storeroom was gloomy, musty, and there was no other door, just a grimy window already open onto a narrow, filthy alley.
"Brilliant," Seto said sarcastically.
The red-eyed man looked at the window, then looked at Seto and flashed a wide grin. In the space of thirty seconds, he'd clambered through the window, agile as a cat. On the other side, he beckoned.
"I'm not climbing through a dirty window into a dirtier alley."
"Then go around and meet me at the end." He pointed to his left. "And don't tell my men where I am."
He started down the alley. Seto had no choice but to slip out of the storeroom again and head for the exit. The shopkeeper was still at the counter and so hadn't seen them. He looked disappointed as Seto headed to the door empty-handed, but wished him a good day anyway.
Out on the walk stood the servants, mumbling between themselves, the older one checking his pocket watch irritably and casting dark glances at the shop front. He glared at Seto when he saw him glancing their way. No wonder the stranger wanted to slip away. Anyone would want to get away from such a nagging, impatient sourpuss.
The stranger himself was waiting for Seto around the corner. His eyes sparkled with excitement when he saw Seto and he hurried into step with him, heading down the walk towards East End.
"Where are we going? My carriage is back that way."
"I know."
"You wanted to get your hat."
"Later. Right now, let's have some fun."
"Doing what?" Seto asked cautiously.
The man shrugged and kept walking. They winded their way through the streets, ignoring the clamoring crowds. The silence continued between them, but the stranger seemed perfectly content. Seto wasn't.
"What is your name?"
"I told you, I won't give you my name and I don't want to know yours."
"It's annoying not to have something to call you by."
"Then perhaps a code name," the stranger said seriously. He mused a moment. "You can call me Yami."
Seto snorted. "Why that name?"
The stranger--Yami, as Seto would think of him from that moment on--looked amused. "Darkness hides many secrets," he said. "And that's what we have. A secret."
"From whom?"
"Everyone."
"And what secret is it?"
"Why us! And what has transpired between us."
That reminded Seto forcefully of what had occurred there in the music room and he felt a hot flush spread across his face. He didn't dare look gat Yami, for that would only make it much worse.
"You'd better decide on somewhere to go," Seto growled, after dodging the nine-hundredth vendor. "Or I'll leave you here and go home."
"Well, then, I fancy a drink."
Yami stopped in front of a pub. While it wasn't the sort of you're-likely-to-be-stabbed dive one would find in White Chapel, it wasn't a place for respectable gentlemen to go either. Seto stared up at the sign above the door, then turned and looked at Yami, who had his hand on the handle.
"You're joking."
"No."
"I'm not going in there."
"Scared?" Yami eyes glittered brightly and he started to pull open the door. Seto jammed his hand against it and held it shut. Yami looked up at him. They stared at each other for a moment, then Yami smiled and used his other hand to reach up and slide Seto's from the door. He pulled it open and walked inside, bold and seeming not to care whether Seto followed or not. For a long moment Seto considered not following. Who was this person, this little, whirlwind person with the piercing red eyes?
Seto followed Yami into the smoky, candle-flickering gloom of the pub. It was only half-filled with men drinking spirits, tended to by two tired-looking middle-aged women while a filthy, glowering man cleaned glasses at the counter. Seto grimaced, but Yami was winding his way confidently through the occupied tables towards an empty one. Seto followed, sitting down with him at the table. One of the tired-looking women brought over two ales, without asking what they wanted. Seto doubted choice was high on the list of priorities for this place.
Yami picked up his glass and took a drink. He pulled a face. "Awful."
"Then why did you want to come in here in the first place?" Seto demanded.
"Why else?"
"Excitement," Seto said dryly. He glanced pointedly around the dismal, quiet pub. "Doesn't seem to be too much of that here."
"I'm quite capable of making my own."
His hand dropped beneath the table and landed on Seto's thigh. The two glasses on the table rattled as Seto jumped.
"Stop that!" he hissed.
Yami smiled, his hand sliding quickly up Seto's thigh and cupping between his legs. Without saying anything, he rubbed, sending pleasure scooting through Seto's nerves. He shuddered, gripping his glass tightly in both hands, staring at the scarred, stained table in front of him, teeth clenched. Yami sat beside him with his eyes closed, a small smile on his face. He was holding his own glass in his other hand, looking quite innocent, the minx. Meanwhile his left hand continued to rub and knead Seto's crotch. Seto was rapidly gaining an erection, despite his attempts to mentally suppress it.
"That's enough," Seto snarled, reaching out and grabbing Yami's wrist, yanking his hand away from his crotch.
No one in the bar seemed to have noticed this exchange. Or, if they had, they were minding their own business. Knowing perfectly well what could happen if someone did see what was happening and objected, Seto stood up rapidly, dragging Yami up from the table. The glass fell from Yami's other hand, striking the table and upsetting, spilling what of the weak ale he hadn't drunk. People glanced up this time, but Seto ignored them, dragging Yami roughly along with him. Rather than go past the occupied tables at the moment, he walked towards the back of the pub, where there were a couple of private rooms for illegal card games, opening one of the doors. No one was inside at the moment, thankfully, and Seto yanked Yami into the room, slamming shut the door. He released Yami, who looked up at him, waiting. Seto glared down at him, though it was rather useless to attempt being annoyed when he was standing there in the state that he was.
He reached up, grasping Yami's shoulders, then hauled him against him and kissed him. Yami moaned, winding both arms around his neck and kissing him back passionately. Ignoring the niggling doubt that he was becoming far too involved with someone who was dangerous simply because he was so reckless, Seto forced Yami to part his lips, sliding his tongue into his mouth. Yami moaned again, sounding almost startled, and pressed against him more tightly.
Seto broke the kiss for air, then shivered as Yami stood on his toes and began nipping at his neck, his hands gripping his shoulders. Seto slid his in under Yami's coat, feeling the slender suppleness of his body beneath his shirt and vest. He didn't know what he was doing; this was definitely not the place to be doing this.
Yami's mouth covered his again and succeeded in knocking all worries from his mind. He kissed him back, tongue fighting his, running a hand up his back beneath his coat. Yami arched against him and he growled as he felt the obviousness of his desire. He kissed him harder and starting pushing him back against the wall.
Footsteps suddenly came up to the door. Seto jerked back from Yami not a second before the door opened. Standing in the doorframe were the two attendants, the old one still looking perpetually annoyed though the younger one now looked more curious than frightened.
"Master," the older one, James, said. "What are you doing in here?"
His eyes went to Seto, expression suspicious, although there was no possibility either of them had seen anything.
"None of your business," Yami snapped, seeming quite angry. "What are you doing here?"
"We followed you, didn't we? Had to ask if anyone seen you. Seemed you gave us the slip."
"I am quite within my right to do as I please," Yami said. "And who are you to follow me?"
James didn't look the least bit abashed by his master's anger. The scowl on his face would have stopped a rabid cur in its tracks. "Had to, didn't we? This ain't the place for you to be. Dodgy. If your father knew--"
"My father will not know," Yami said coldly. "For you are not to tell him. I will go where I want."
"M-Master," the second one said, for the first time speaking. His voice was as timid as his expression. "You're going to be late for the fox hunt, sir."
Yami paused. "True. Very well. Go out and return with the carriage."
"The carriage is waiting out front," James said.
Yami's eyes narrowed and he looked exasperated. "Then just go out."
James glanced at Seto again, then left with the younger servant. He didn't shut the door. Yami turned to Seto, annoyance evident. But as he looked at Seto, a smile spread across his face.
"Sorry. Looks like I'll have to get my hat another day."
"I don't--"
"See you later," Yami said with a mischievous tone and he left.
Seto followed him out, bypassing the tables of drunkards, reaching outside just as Yami was climbing into a fancy black carriage drawn by four magnificent bays. James was in the driver's seat, the reins of the horses in his hands, while the younger man stood on the ground, holding the door open and waiting for Yami to get settled. Yami glanced up as he sat down in his seat. He gave another smile to Seto, before the younger man shut the door and hauled himself up into the seat beside James. James flicked the reins and the horses started through the street, leaving Seto standing on the sidewalk and watching the carriage disappear.
A/N: This story is still in the works. There's going to be gaps between it's update past the fourth chapter, just because it's not finished, unlike Halloween For Real. Thanks!