Note: For further context, please check out my fanfic, "Then I Awoke." This story takes place about six months after that one. Thank you, and please enjoy the read!

This rain was one that gave kisses, Atem thought. Quick pecks, wet and sweet. Not unlike the kisses he meant to give to Seto in the coming minutes. Rain was a gift; rain was life. And rain was romantic.

"I'm tired of this rain."

Atem smirked. "I find it romantic," he said. "Forgive me—I'm seduced by its advances…" A heavy droplet burst against his cheek and rolled to his jaw. He cracked open an eye, drew in his chin.

Seto, handsome in his serious black suit, stood near enough to touch, to embrace; but Atem neither touched nor embraced him. The man was a surly knot of tension, hunching under the awning, scowling—utterly curmudgeonly.

"Rough morning at the office?" asked Atem.

"Just dull as hell," said Seto, rubbing his temples. "You're ruining your makeup."

"Am I?"

"You will if you keep gaping at the sky like a turkey."

"Try as you might, you won't ruin my mood," said Atem. He shut his eyes again, raised his chin toward the rain again in easy supplication. Moods were as much of a rousing challenge as anything else. For the self, mood maintenance and mastery. For the opponent, mood detection—mood manipulation. "After all," he added, "today we're meant to celebrate."

"Celebrate? Some festival or something?"

Atem sat upright now. "Festival?" he said.

"Don't ask me," said Seto, dragging out the wrought iron patio chair and taking a seat at last. "Some ancient Egyptian practice that no one's observed for centuries? Millennia?" He scooted forward till his jacket bunched against the table, adding under his breath, "No one but Isis, maybe."

Atem recalculated. This was not the Mood Challenge, no...Seto was irritable as a rule. This would be the Puzzle of Intent. What was Seto getting at? Did he jest? Or had he honestly forgotten?

Atem left the pining rain with a promise and likewise scooted closer to the table, under the awning. He'd not surrender to confusion, for any puzzle took time. He traced an eyebrow with the tip of his ring finger; let the finger wander to his hair and curl around a strand. Seto watched its sultry twirling. There was a moment, a wink of desire.

"...You didn't order anything?" asked Seto.

"I was waiting for you," lied Atem, still twirling.

Seto stared, then seemed to catch himself; he blinked and looked down at his phone, snuffing out desire. The awning shivered 'neath the thudding rain. Atem felt in his chest the first clawing creep of frustration. He let his hair drop.

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked. A fecund invitation—a wellspring of possibility.

"I assume the same as always," said Seto, regarding Atem with an almost hostile skepticism. Why're you asking me? "The Memory Project."

The Memory Project. Their summer-long endeavor; their autumn undertaking. At the rate they were going, their life's work. Seto poured whatever free time he had into restoring Atem's memories—this time, the ones he'd lost en route from Paradise to Earth. And Atem truly appreciated Seto's dedication. But it was an old tune, recovery, restoration...one that Atem tired of playing. He longed to learn new songs, to make new memories with Seto.

"We're close to a breakthrough. Really close." Seto paused. "Unless you want to quit."

"Of course not," Atem said tersely. "I'm not sure how you might assume that."

As plodding as the Memory Project felt at times, by no means did Atem intend to quit. He'd heard a saying about 'what happens when you assume.' And Seto in his empirical manner was poking and prodding and finding out. An 'ass of you and me,' indeed…Atem's frustration mounted.

Seto stalled, first fiddling with the drink menu, then squeezing flyaway napkins back into their dispenser, smoothing them down, making them perfect. "...Then do you wanna do something else tonight?" he asked at length. "Take a break?"

"I'm asking you what you'd like to do," said Atem.

"I'd like to work on the Memory Project," said Seto. Was his tone deadpan? Genuine? The entreating rain, falling harder now, made it difficult to tell.

Atem sighed, and he set aside the Puzzle of Intent for now. He found himself mirroring Seto's posture, shielding his heart with folded arms. "Alright," he said. "We'll work on it."

Seto nodded once, and mercifully chose that moment to return to his phone—for over Seto's shoulder Atem spied a tight bunch of wait staff piling out of the restaurant, touting a flaming pastry, whispering Is it really Seto Kaiba? and clearing their throats to sing, to surprise...gods forbid.

Atem slid to his feet. "Restroom," was all he said, and Seto mumbled an acknowledgement without looking up.

Atem marched toward the bewildered wait staff, and with a stern wave of pharaonic finality he drove them back into the restaurant.

"We're sorry, sir!" cried the woman with the pastry. "We thought you wanted us to—"

Atem held up a ringed index finger. "And now I've decided against it."

The man behind her stammered, "But—"

FWOOO

Atem plucked the smoking candle from the pastry, laid it on the plate, and returned to the patio without a look back.

It rained still harder. Water gushed from gutters, spilled over the awning in narrow waterfalls. Cars raced by, dousing the curb, their headlights piercing the gloom. In the past, Atem might've given a speech, or licked the icing from the candle, or even dumped the pastry onto the floor. He was distantly proud of his pitiful progress.

Atem approached Seto from behind, wound his arms around Seto's neck, and kissed his frizzy hair. Seto jumped at the contact, then leaned into it.

"Forgot my wallet," he said, looking up at Atem, upside-down. "You're buying, right?" His eyes darted between Atem's, searching for something, and Atem realized he was apologizing.

"Then you must pay in kisses for the pharaoh," said Atem. "It's an ancient practice. Isis will tell you."

Atem felt the tension lessen, saw relief behind Seto's raised eyebrows. "If I call her right now, she'll tell me, huh?"

"She would indeed."

"It's five in the morning there."

"She'll answer for the pharaoh."

"Like hell she will," said Seto. A tiny smile broke through, a parting of the clouds. Atem snatched it, stole it away to treasure, with an upside-down kiss. Seto drew Atem downward till he knelt beside the table and kissed him back.

"What does that get me?" he murmured as he pulled away.

Atem smirked. "One glass of ice water."

Thunder crashed through the heavens, sent shudders through the mansion walls. Seto must have walked through the heart of such turmoil before, Atem thought. How else could he have known the wrath of warring gods so well, to have imbued his holograms with such inimitable power—such violent rage?

Atem asked him as much.

"I'm not an idiot," said Seto. "Why would I stand outside in a thunderstorm?"

"Forgive me. You're the paragon of caution," Atem said, curled into the corner of the couch, wrapped in a thick red blanket. He felt the prey of a snuggly Osiris.

"We're being cautious now, aren't we?" said Seto, pacing the fire-lit sitting room, madly impatient. Atem had always had an inkling, but these past months together had confirmed beyond a doubt that Seto Kaiba would not, could not, relax.

Atem said, "Thanks to Yuugi, not to you. 'We ought to be fine, it's all surge protected…' "

"Or to you! 'Oh, what's a little lightning? I've faced the white lightning of the Blue-Eyes many times...' "

"Thank the gods for Yuugi, then."

"I'm flattered! But really it's common sense." Yuugi appeared in the doorway, timed precisely to a heavy BOOM of thunder. "...Ooh," he said. "I must be a suspicious character." He carried a tray of tea to the coffee table where a stack of well-worn games already rested, then moved to sit cross-legged on the floor before the fireplace.

"And now we wait," said Atem as he reached for a mug, "for young Mokuba, toiling away at his studies by candlelight—"

"He's a good kid," growled Seto. "He's got a test tomorrow—"

Atem held the steaming mug close to his face, peering over the rim. "And he's aiming to graduate one day, I'd imagine?"

"I'm more than qualified for my job already—"

"We could play a three-player game to start with," suggested Yuugi, unperturbed. He crawled to the coffee table, claiming a mug with one hand and paging through games with the other. "We've got Snowed In...Out of Order...In a Rush…" He sipped the tea and winced. "Still hot! Oh, Haunted Hayride, that's fun and seasonal..."

Speaking of suspicious characters, Atem had neither seen nor heard from Mokuba all day. He'd texted Seto saying he was staying late at school; then he'd texted saying he was holed away with homework. Atem wondered if Mokuba wasn't planning a surprise of his own...perhaps with the heretofore reticent Yuugi as cohort?

As though on cue, another clap of thunder sounded and Mokuba barrelled in, wild-haired, snapping with storm-like energy.

"I searched the whole freakin' house, I thought you were still in the lab! I'm glad you're not, though, you'd probably all get electrocuted and die, and then how'd I find out if Atem really thought you were a good kisser from day one?!" he ranted all in one breath, and chucked a textbook at Seto's head. Seto caught it. Barely.

"Quiz me!" Mokuba ordered, flopping down on the couch beside Atem. He grabbed a mug and quaffed a massive gulp of tea. Yuugi yelped.

"Wait! Careful, it's—"

"Ow, it's hot!" Mokuba abandoned the mug and just as soon forgot. "Hey, nice games. Thanks for bringing them, Yuugi."

Yuugi stuttered, "T-thanks—uh, are you okay? Did you burn yoursel—"

"Haunted Hayride! Let's play that one—oh, hold up—YESSS." Mokuba yanked a box from the stack and raised it in triumph. "You brought it!"

Atem squinted in the low light, intrigued and fast forgetting his suspicions. "Does that say…"

Seto stalked to the couch and loomed over them. "Oh, no!" he said, brandishing Mokuba's textbook. "I am not"—he rapped the book against the box—"playing Duelist Dating Service!"

"Sit your butt down and pick your player, please," sang Mokuba as he shook open the box. Garish, cutesy accoutrement spilled out. "I'm Hana! She's purple."

"It's the stupidest game on the planet!"

Yuugi spread the board open on the rug. "That's why it's fun," he said. "I'm green."

Atem tugged his blanket and a cushion to the floor with him. "I'll be pink."

Yuugi nodded as he laid out the cards and accessories with gentle and fluid professionalism. Atem appraised the painted character cards. He felt his grin spread—these were faces he knew well.

"Can I go on a date with me?" he asked.

"Yeah, you can pick anybody once you get to the coliseum!" Mokuba nearly burst with glee, speaking over Seto's "It's completely trashy to make a game about real people!" He went on, "Well, technically it's a date with 'Yuugi,' but y'know. Your card is worth the most points!"

"Is that so?" said Atem overtop Yuugi's halfhearted "Whaddaya mean, 'y'know?!' " and craned his neck to find Seto. "Then why wouldn't you want to play?"

"Because I already won," seethed Seto, who slouched by the stormy window like a vampire, radiating pure disdain. He knocked the textbook over and over against his forehead.

"Who would you say this is, aibou," Atem asked Yuugi, passing him a very familiar character card. "Me or you?"

Yuugi tilted it in the firelight. "I think it looks like you. See the blond spikes?"

"Good point."

"Yeah, that's you," said Mokuba.

"Then we're in agreement—"

"They got the eyes wrong."

Everyone looked up. Seto frowned, endearingly earnest. "What? They did!"

Mokuba rolled his own eyes and patted the floor beside him. "You're blue," he said.

In the end, Atem (Sakura) won a date with himself; Seto (Kimi) with himself; Yuugi (Suki) with Jounouchi; and Mokuba (Hana) with Insector Haga.

"Can we trade?" Seto asked Atem, proffering his card. Low thunder rattled the mantle, the tray of empty mugs. Atem took the card and examined its manic, sneering Seto, a trace-over of some years-old promotional image. He lifted a shoulder. His blanket fell to his waist.

"They got the eyes wrong," he said, brushing a thumb over Seto's blushing cheek. "And everything else, really. He's much more handsome in real life."

Atem kissed him, lingering and ardent. He tasted of tea. Yuugi packed up the game, eyes averted.

"You guys are gross," said Mokuba. "I'm going to bed." He snatched up his textbook and departed...and that was that.

Late that night, Atem found Seto ruminating in the courtyard—a habit of his. He stood between two weather-worn statues of armed horsemen, frozen in postures more gallant than belligerent. They were comrades, Atem thought, not enemies. Lovers, even, vis-à-vis across the shimmering battlefield. The rain fell gently now, a mollifying mist.

Atem was there to say goodnight, but first he meant to settle what was nagging him. The hour softened the subject's apparent sensitivity; a false hope, perhaps. Yet whether they were rough or smooth, as long as the edges were Seto's, Atem would face them. So he began:

"It's after midnight."

Seto turned and regarded Atem, a meditative figure in his flowing night clothes.

Atem went on, "And it seems you've managed it."

"Managed what?" asked Seto plainly, emptied of sarcasm, fearing no judgment.

"Avoiding your birthday."

Seto's only reaction was to uncross his arms and slide his hands into the pockets of his robe. Atem swept toward him. The long hem of his own robe grazed the stones. He burrowed his hand into one of Seto's pockets and laced their crowded fingers together.

"Why don't you acknowledge it?" asked Atem.

Seto tilted his head back in thought, letting the rain caress his face. (Who was the turkey now?)

"I don't want it to be a big deal," he said. " 'Cause it's not. It's a bunch of people I don't know pretending they like me for twenty-four hours." He rolled his stiff neck. "Why should they care?"

"Turns out there are a few of us who don't pretend to like you," said Atem. "I say your birthday is a big deal. It's our chance to celebrate you."

Seto made a face. "I don't want to be celebrated."

Atem could picture the tabloids: CEO and Humble Heartthrob Says He "Doesn't Want to be Celebrated." Billionaire Tech Mogul Seto Kaiba Scorns Birthday Wishes, Claims He's Unworthy of Praise. Not affected self-effacement—not even actual humility. It felt more to Atem like a sort of preemptive shame.

Atem squeezed Seto's hand. He could feel where the scar began, running from the base of Seto's palm halfway up his forearm, and he traced it with his thumb. Atem could not take back the pain he'd caused this man who loved him beyond all time and space, this man who'd smashed the casings of that hyperbole, who'd made it literal—who'd proven his love. Despite his wounds—despite Atem's wont for causing him pain—did Seto know how loved he was in return?

"Then I'll keep it between us," murmured Atem. "Happy birthday, Seto. I hope that you felt loved today."

Seto accepted the subsequent peck on his cheek with a bright look in his eyes.

"Atem," he said, "You're right about the rain...it is romantic."

And at last, freed by midnight from prying eyes and inhibitions, the kiss Atem had waited for was his. Seto clung to him like the rain would dissolve him if he didn't, and Atem clung back to his anchor, the one who made him feel whole. And when their kiss grew full and took flight, they caught another, and another...and ended in a strong embrace.

"...but you're wrong about my birthday," Seto said into Atem's hair.

Seto trembled in his arms. Atem held him close. Was the mere mention of his birthday so affecting? Was this why Mokuba, why Yuugi had both kept mum? How could Atem have been so obtuse? He began to tumble into guilt...wait.

Seto's shoulders shook, not with shame...rather, with laughter.

Guilt spun upward into chagrin. Atem took a small step back, clutching Seto's upper arms as the man nearly doubled over. "What's so funny?!"

"My birthday," Seto said between bouts of effusive laughter, as charming as it was grating. "It's on Saturday."

"Saturday…" Today was...well, had been...Tuesday.

Atem was the King of Games, no question—he was the champion of Duelist Dating Service, after all. Today he'd just had the wrong game in mind. It hadn't been the Mood Challenge, and it hadn't been the Puzzle of Intent. It had been Check the Calendar.

"The twenty-first…" groaned Atem, cringing with embarrassment. "I was completely certain...Seto's birthday is the twenty-first…"

Seto laughed and laughed. "This Memory Project will need to be more comprehensive than I thought!"

"I'm a fool...a fool! At the restaurant today..." Atem covered his face. "I almost had them sing to you...a fool…"

"Hey Atem."

Atem grunted. "Hm?"

"Look at me."

Atem raised his head and received a quick, wet peck on his forehead.

"I felt very loved today," said Seto, smiling and full of warmth. "You make me so happy. Just seeing you. Spending time with you. Birthday or no."

Atem's discomposure faded. He could not help but return such a smile, such a sentiment spoken aloud. Such were as rare and pure and beautiful as the Legendary Gods.

"Well, at least I liked that restaurant," said Atem. "I'd take myself there on the date I won."

"I'd take myself to the curb and dump him," said Seto. "It's Atem for me, or nobody. And I'm demanding a reissue of that game, with you and Yuugi separated."

Atem chuckled. "How will you explain that one?"

"I'll bring you both to the publisher's office, and duel you both in front of 'em."

"Sounds interesting."

"That's my birthday request," Seto said, crowning Atem with another forehead kiss. Atem rose onto his toes, pushed back Seto's dripping bangs, and returned the gesture. He hoped with all his heart that it would rain again on Saturday.

END

Doctor's Note: This was written for Kaiba's Birthday Bash, the October 2021 Drabble/Artwork Event on the Dark Pride of Dimensions Discord server! We were randomly assigned five prompts to choose from, from a fun list that we made together.

For my two main prompts, I chose "Forehead Kisses in the Rain" and "Trying to Avoid His Birthday." But I gave cameos to my three remaining options: "Snowed In," "Horseback Riding," and "Duelist-for-Duelist Dating Service." :)

This was a ton of fun to write, and I hope that it warmed your heart! Please let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading! - Dr. MP