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Disclaimer and other information: See chapter 1

2. Breathless

The letter opener was a miniature silver sword with a dragon's graceful shape carved into its blade. The tail started at the tip, lean form winding around the shining edges, ending in a majestic head, mouth open to roar. Seto had memorised this possession of his multiple times, held it dearest of all the devices and items he kept on his office desk, because it was a present from his younger brother Mokuba. Today it held a different, new meaning, along with the small envelope lying on the flat surface of his desk, unopened.

His blue eyes slid along the white paper, insignificant, not in any way different from the numerous envelopes he received every day. And yet…

The dustbin was close to his desk and it were more than a few envelopes suffering the fate of being buried deep in it unopened. Carefully he extended his hand to touch the letter, idly stroking the sharp edges, the smooth surface. What about throwing it away now? Why not?

He knew why not without a shadow of a doubt. He would regret it, terribly. Frowning he let go of the envelope. Never before had he let himself be unsure about a decision like this, never before had he bothered to consider himself regretting anything. When a decision was taken by him it was his to deal with, and that was what he had always done, never wishing he had the ability to change the past. Things had changed last night, it seemed, with a single kiss.

Damn it, why did he let a kiss manipulate him like this? It wasn't like it had been the most skilful kiss he had ever shared, from a practical point of view. It had been awkward at first, then laced with the passion coming with clearly noticeable inexperience of his partner. Granted, his stomach had never leaped like this before, in sheer exultation, his knees had never felt this weak before, his breath had never caught at the feel of a soft tongue touching his before. But those were physical reactions, they should not have the power to alter his judgement

Except that it did feel good, so good.

In one smooth motion of his hand he grabbed the letter opener and sliced through the thin paper. Putting the silver tool away with deliberate care he narrowed his eyes and opened the single sheet of paper falling out of the envelope. Blue eyes automatically skimmed the hastily scribbled letters.

If you would like, meet me on Sunday, 12th July, at 2.00 pm, in the west end quarter, in front of the old university. If you decide to come, I would ask you not to speak, so we are on equal terms. I would like there to be just us, no words. I have only seen you for a few seconds now but I intend to get to know you, and I hope I will have the chance to make you see why I cannot speak. The words on my shirt are true, though, your beauty does leave me speechless.

Bluebird's Nocturne/Domino, Thursday, 9th July, 10.30 pm

With a frown Seto put the letter down onto his study desk, folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back. Yet another decision to make, although the arguments for and against had not changed much. Neither had the price waiting for him, he noticed, only this time he had already taken a step in a certain direction, on a road that would eventually lead him into the west end quarter on Sunday.

Biting his lip he read through the few lines again. So for Yami it had been attraction at first sight, so strong he would write a letter to him only seconds after he had seen him? Or was it part of a strange strategy? Was it the first, it would give Seto power. Was it the latter, it would lead him into a trap. Whatever it ended up to be, it was a challenge to his courage.

And Seto Kaiba had never backed down from a challenge.

Scowling at the paper one last time, Seto put it back into the envelope, and carefully hid it in the top drawer of the desk.

1.50 pm. Seto glared as someone bumped into him when he exited the underground station, mentally rebuking himself for using the public transport system. However, he still would not have liked being taken to the west end quarter in his limousine.

He wasn't nervous about this, no matter how teasingly his little brother had called it a 'hot date' for three days, since Seto had told him about his new acquaintance. Three nights of dreams filled with crimson eyes, though, had him looking forward to seeing the other again with a certain passion that frightened him. Obsessive was the word, and yet he could not deny the wondrous sensation the memories of the mute boy caused. It was not something he liked to admit, but a challenge was a challenge. Shaking his head he continued on his way out of the station.

Momentarily, the sun was unbelievably hot and blinded him as he stepped onto the street. Certainly, he had not dressed in his trench coat for once, only a fool would wear clothes like that in July, but that didn't change the fact that they were to him the most comfortable attire. Short sleeves left him far too exposed in his opinion, so he had settled for those that covered his arms to three quarters and belonged to a purple V-neck. His usual black trousers and boots were not too formal, neither too casual, so he could allow himself to be recognised on the street. Nevertheless, he wore sunglasses, not only because of his desire to hide from the crowd but also careful to hide his eyes from the one he was going to meet.

Behind the façade of those glasses, Seto scanned the place in front of the old university for Yami. Soon enough his eyes fell upon the other's shorter form as he sat on the marble steps of the building that was abandoned on this summer Sunday. Sure enough the other had settled for the infamous shirt that he had worn last time, the message just as ingenious and overly flattering as last Thursday but today the top was combined with casual dark blue jeans, cut off just below his knees. Little punk, Seto thought, but it looked frighteningly good on the other.

As soon as Yami recognised him, he rose from the stairs and walked towards him. Uncertain but unwilling to show it, Seto stopped in front of him and was glad the smaller boy simply inclined his head with a smile and didn't kiss him. It didn't feel right, at least not yet.

However, Yami made it clear that he was very much inclined to change that as he gently took Seto's hand and twined their fingers together. While he did this he reached up to take Seto's sunglasses off, putting them into his free hand, looking into his eyes for any sign of repulse.

The soft hand made his nerve endings tingle where it rested in his, but it was not an unpleasant feeling so Seto looked up to meet the other's eyes and nodded in response. His smile widening, Yami turned, still holding his hand to lead him first back to the stairs where he retrieved a small bag he slung over his shoulder, then further down the street towards the next underground station.

Soon Seto realised that the punk attempted to take him out of town, towards the attractive woodlands young couples and families with children spent their weekends in. This left him uncomfortable, seeing as he despised having to watch happy couples and families and would have preferred some alone time with the shorter boy.

But since this 'silent date', as he had taken to calling it, was Yami's idea and challenge, which he had agreed to, he had to play along.

Ten silent minutes crammed into an overcrowded underground later they found themselves on the edges of the nearest forest, the broad path treaded by parents, lovers and children just a few metres ahead. However, this was not the path Yami had chosen and Seto wondered briefly why he hadn't expected something like this as his companion turned and lead him directly into the forest.

After a short struggle with low branches and immense fern they reached a small clearing from which there was another path leading on between large oaks, birches and elms, this one clearly less frequently or even almost never used. Good, Seto thought, it looked like they wouldn't be bothered by couples and families after all. Yami had an amused expression on his face and his shoulders lifted as he seemed to chuckle in silence, so he raised an eyebrow at him and glared stonily. Unfazed, the punk stood on his tiptoes and picked a number of leaves and cobwebs out of his hair that must certainly have looked ridiculous. Slightly miffed since it was Yami's fault for leading him through the forest in the first place, Seto glared again while at the same time enjoying the positive side aspects those graceful long fingers in his hair resulted in.

Finishing his cleaning task, the satisfied Yami pulled back and went ahead of him, making Seto take a few particularly long strides to stay on his side.

The wood wasn't quiet, it was full of birds' voices, of wind and leaves rustling, of cracking branches and their footsteps on the soft earth. The air was filled with the heavy scents of nature, the grass and leaves, the moss, the fungi and the lichens. Seto was not used to those smells, but they were not unpleasant, rather calming on body and mind.

In the beginning walking next to each other without speaking made him feel uncomfortable and restless, similar to that first time they had had a drink together. And like it had back then, the uncomfortable feeling vanished gradually, leaving him with a sense of peace as Yami occasionally pointed towards a small animal or particularly beautiful plant he wanted to show him. It was awkward, but not unpleasant either, he decided, letting himself be lead along, sometimes walking with his hand in Yami's or the other way round, sometimes simply treading their path next to each other, now and then furtively stealing glances.

After another ten minutes of walking like this Seto started to wonder how long it would take them to reach their destination he had yet to see. Granted, the subtle secrecy of this meeting appealed to him, but on the other hand it left him at a disadvantage which usually made him draw back a little. He still didn't know on what purpose the other boy had chosen to bare his feelings to him like this, in a letter written only seconds after they had first laid eyes on each other. It could well be a joke, a fluke, a trick. On the other hand, what had he to fear? The media? Certainly not, he had the power to sue all of Domino's newspapers with only the slightest flick of his smallest finger.

But then what could the punk want from him? Fame, money, it didn't suit him. But who knew what lay at the core of another's soul? He would be careful, would enjoy what was offered but stay prepared for the moment he would have to pull back.

His thoughts, however deep, had not distracted him from noticing a sunlit gap in the trees not far ahead and indeed that seemed to be where they were heading for Yami quickened his steps slightly. Following him, Seto once more stepped into blinding hot summer sun.

The place was not at all what he had expected it to be like. Although the elms had been an indication that there had to be water somewhere, he had not counted on finding himself looking at the wide surface of a hidden lake that was glittering in the sunlight. Ducks and other water birds could be made out in the distance, for a second Seto even thought he had seen the white plumage of a lonely swan, but perhaps it had just been a heron. Underneath the branches of a weeping willow a small green boat lay hidden, tied to the trunk.

Yami stood aside, waiting for a sign of response, and though he still wore his gentle trademark smile, it had slipped a little, light doubt and hesitation noticeable.

Turning his head to look him in the eye Seto noticed this and decided he didn't like the doubt in those confident eyes. Besides the place was beautiful and very much to Seto's taste. Thus he returned the smile encouragingly, and held his hand out for the other to take. To his pleasure Yami's eyes lit up and he took it, letting himself be lead towards the water.

While Seto still admired the beautiful surroundings, Yami began to unpack his bag, producing a blanket and a rather large cooler containing a bottle of red wine and a box of chocolate ice cream. There was also a little plastic bowl full of delicious looking cherries.

Seto grinned. So they had gone on a picnic. Interesting, given the fact that he could not back out anymore. It was a long time since Seto had last been on a picnic with his younger brother, and although it was a pleasant memory, Seto would have refused going on a picnic with Yami, simply because it would have sounded awkward, like a bad romance novel. Cherries, ice cream and red wine served on the border of a beautiful lonely lake on a hot and joyful summer Sunday…

Strangely enough, Yami's smirk turned all his opinions around, the slightly turned up left corner of his mouth and the sly look in his eyes being nothing short of another challenge to add to the long list. He didn't know why this particular expression of the little punk had such an effect on him, transforming everything into a challenge he couldn't resist.

Patting the free space on the blanket next to him Yami invited him to sit down and began to pour them each a glass of wine. How he had managed to bring two fragile glasses without breaking them was a mystery to Seto, but he accepted one of them and raised it to the other boy. Their glasses met each other with a small, melodious clink, and Seto watched Yami take a long sip before he mirrored the action. The wine was not bad though not of highest quality, a fact that Seto almost missed due to Yami's eyes suddenly being locked on his, deeply staring.

Carefully, with an expression clearly showing him expecting reproaching, the smaller boy lifted his hand and brought it to Seto's face, let it rest on his cheek. When no repulse came, a soft thumb caressed the space between his eye and nose, small circles of tender awe. Their eye contact still unbroken, the now softly trembling hand turned to let the back, the round knuckles trace Seto's pale cheek.

Inexplicably, Seto felt himself shiver, unwilling to pull away, lost in those intense eyes. He had no idea why he let Yami do that, but he felt such peace the moment the other touched him that he could not bring himself to refuse that touch.

After a minute, Yami's hand dropped and that little smile stole back onto his features as he started to unpack the ice cream and held out a spoon for Seto to take. He wasn't really hungry, but turning the offer down would have given the wrong impression and, to tell the truth, he hadn't eaten any ice cream for more than a year now. So, together with the punk he now dug into the cold chocolate cream, delighted by the taste he had not realised he had missed.

When he looked up the next time he noticed a decidedly mischievous glint in Yami's eyes and wondered what it meant, deciding to be on his guard. The smaller boy picked up one of the cherries and placed it into a bed of chocolate on his spoon, then crawled a bit closer and held the spoon out to Seto, who wrinkled his nose and deliberately picked the cherry out of the ice cream to throw it back at Yami, musing for the second time since he had gotten to know him about the punk's strange taste.

Something lit up in Yami's eyes and he crawled even closer, ignoring Seto's lifted eyebrow but taking the cherry with him. Raising himself onto his knees he stared into his eyes, only a few centimetres away, then let the cherry fall into his mouth, definitely teasingly, biting it in half and letting his tongue faintly trace his lips, eyes never leaving him. Feeling slightly dizzy, Seto swallowed and leaned back a bit just as the other turned his head to spit out the cherry stone.

Kneeling before him, Yami took another cherry, dangling it in front of him playfully by the stem, guiding it to his lips. Sighing, Seto opened his mouth to allow the smaller boy to feed him the fruit. This would be exactly like in a bad romance novel, had it not been for those red eyes and their charm.

Cursing himself, Seto spit out his own cherry stone and turned back to Yami only to find his lips suddenly pressed to his lightly. Staring at the other's wide opened eyes he presumed that neither of them had planned this, though it would have been a lie to say they hadn't both wanted it. Again, Seto's stomach did an oddly pleasant contraction at finding Yami's lips softly moving on his, sucking on his lower lip for a second before he actually moved down towards his chin, down his neck and down the V-neck of his shirt, making a foreign collection of hot and cold shivers spread over Seto's back.

It was not the first time he had been kissed like that, it was not the first time he felt a deliciously daring tongue trail over his collarbone up to his shoulder and the back of his neck, but it was the first time it made his hands slide into his companion's hair, massaging, while every lick triggered a peasant little jolt in his stomach.

His mouth found the other's neck offered to him and he couldn't resist kissing it with insistent force, suck softly on the skin on a tender earlobe, which made Yami's mouth fall open in a silent gasp.

Then Yami's arms went around his chest holding him, while his head rested on his shoulder, still except for the slightly uneven breathing.

Seto wasn't sure if it was a good thing they had stopped. To be honest, he was torn between resuming the activity and pulling back to take another sip of wine to try and cool himself down a bit. Yami's body, too, was warm and he felt a tiny hint of sweat on his neck.

However warm it was, Seto wouldn't have expected the punk to do what he did next. Standing and giving him a rather sly smile, Yami began to pull his shirt over his head, leaving Seto gaping at the beauty of his naked chest, firm and lean, but it wasn't all yet. A belt buckle was slid open and the cut off jeans slowly slid from his hips. Seto's mouth dropped open, suddenly dry as the punk's fingers rested lightly on the rim of his black boxer shorts.

And then Yami turned around, and with a last teasing wink over his shoulder, only his boxers left on him, he sprinted towards the water and threw himself into it with a splash.

Seto blinked, staring at the lake and gasping as Yami resurfaced with an unbelievably roguish grin on his face, motioning for him to join him. Startled and indignant, Seto resolutely shook his head, but the other boy wouldn't leave it at that.

A large fountain of water rained down onto Seto and he let out a breathless gasp of horror and disbelieve. Feeling the wetness seeping into his clothes and his hair, he stared at the silently snickering boy, then gave a roar of attack, flinging off shirt and trousers in a matter of seconds, and, thanking the heavens for wearing boxer shorts too, followed Yami into the water, joining in the war of splashing and trying to dunk each other.

Exhausted, both panting heavily, although only Seto's pants echoed around the silent lake, they made it to the shore twenty minutes later, dropping onto their blanket next to each other.

With a smile on his face, Seto watched the clouds drifting on the sky. What a crazy romance novel, he thought, trying to decide if the largest cloud had the shape of a dragon.

There was silence again as they let themselves be dried by the sun, their clothes forgotten, wet from witnessing the lake war from far too close a distance, but slowly drying too.

Then, when his boxers were almost dry, Seto heard Yami shift and before he could react the other was straddling him, the ice cream spoon from earlier in his hand and a feral grin on his face as he dipped the cold sweet cream onto Seto's chest liberally, making him gasp yet again.

And when Yami's tongue touched his chest to lick off the mess, Seto found himself actually moaning low in his throat. Pleased, Yami daringly continued his actions, dripping chocolate ice cream into his belly button, his tongue diving after it which had Seto struggling for control not to writhe at the wonderful sensation.

Finally having gathered his wits, he rolled them around, so he was on top and wondered for a moment if his weight would bother Yami. Apparently, by the look of surprised glee on the punk's face, it didn't, so he made an effort to reciprocate. The shorter male did indeed writhe, but it was more teasing than helpless and when Seto pulled back for a second, Yami's hand grabbed a cherry out of the abandoned bowl and placed it in his mouth, trapped between his teeth and lips, then raised himself onto his elbows, clearly inviting Seto to share the fruit.

And to his own surprise Seto leaned forward and gently bit into the soft red flesh of the cherry, lips brushing against Yami's. Both smiled when they pulled back, the cherry stone resting in Yami's mouth.

Then, all of a sudden, Yami began refilling his bag, placing the half-emptied wine bottle and the remaining ice cream in the cooler. When Seto gave him a look, Yami pointed to his wrist as if pointing at a clock to show that it was time to leave. So, with a sigh, Seto too stood and helped him roll up the blanket.

On the way back they emptied the cherry bowl in amicable silence and when they were back at the underground station, Yami gave him a very soft smile that made his stomach contract in that wonderful manner again, and bade him goodbye with a delicate peck on the cheek, slipping him yet another envelope.