WARNING- LEMON

Chapter 12

A yawn from his right made Seto Kaiba glance over, taking a brief moment to
observe Yami's half-lidded red eyes and wild hair sticking out from over the
numerous shopping bags he insisted on holding in his lap. Seto rolled his
eyes but grinned a little and turned his attention back in the direction of
the steering wheel. "Tired?"

"Yeah, a little," Yami replied, adjusting his grip as a bag threatened to
slide out of his lap.

"You know, you could put those in the backseat," Seto observed dryly.

"No!" From the corner of his eye Seto watched the other grip the bags
possessively. "I want to hold them!"

"Are you that happy to have new clothes?" Seto's lip curled in faint
amusement.

"No, it's not that. I've… Well I never had any winter clothes before, and
you bought them for me… I mean, you didn't have to but…"

"It's fine." Seto waved his hand dismissively. "I don't think I can stand
any more shopping today, though."

"Me neither," Yami agreed. They had been shopping since early afternoon and
by now it was nearly 8:00; they had only left the mall when Seto's feet had
started to throb. He'd been surprised when he realized how late it had
gotten – buying things for Yami felt unexpectedly good, and he was easy to
please. The way his slim little arms clutched the bags in his lap was proof
of that… and it was cute as hell.

"Are you hungry?" the brunet asked, smirking a little when Yami nodded. "Why
don't we go back to my apartment instead of eating out again? I'll cook
something."

"You can cook?"

Seto shrugged. "Not much. I can make some decent spaghetti though."

Yami laughed. "Spaghetti sounds great."

And that was how they ended up at Seto's apartment, Yami leaning over the
kitchen's island counter on his elbows and unknowingly wiggling his butt in
the air while Seto stirred noodles in a pot and tried not to get caught
staring. Yami chattered away about his latest art project until the pasta
started boiling and Seto announced it was ready. The smaller male gave him a
bright smile and immediately jumped up and started opening random cabinet
doors in search for plates – though when he finally found them they were on
the top shelf and he had to stand on his tiptoes to reach them.

Seto, noticing his date's predicament, smirked to himself and walked over,
wrapping an arm around Yami's waist and reaching out to stop his arm. He
tangled his fingers in Yami's and pressed his lips against the shell of the
other's ear. "You should let me do that," the brunet murmured, smirking
wider when Yami shivered at the breath on his neck.

"I was just trying to help," Yami answered as levelly as possible, though he
whimpered and flushed a delightful red when Seto spun him around and pressed
close against him until Yami's back was digging into the counter.

"You can help me more like this," was Seto's response and Yami's only
warning before the brunet's lips claimed his and they were kissing more
fiercely than they ever had before.

One thing Seto had always liked about Yami was that despite his
inexperience, he was incredibly enthusiastic, responding instantly and
passionately to Seto's advances though he rarely made any of his own. This
time was no exception, and barely thirty seconds into their kiss had Yami
tangling his hands in chestnut hair and breaking their lip-lock only to
nibble at Seto's lower lip and shower kisses along his jaw line and the
sensitive spot just under his ear.

Seto groaned in pleasure and yanked harshly at the hem of Yami's long-sleeve
black college t-shirt, Yami instantly getting the hint and lifting his arms
so Seto could pull it off. Then, to the brunet's slight surprise, Yami
hopped up and wrapped his legs around Seto's waist, halfheartedly tugging at
the other's shirt as their lips met once again and Seto's fingers massaged
Yami's rear through his tight jeans.

They broke apart several minutes later. "Continue this in the bedroom?" Seto
panted.

Breathless, Yami nodded.

Hot, steamy water cascaded down smooth, richly tanned skin, soothing away
the tiredness of Atemu's muscles as it rinsed away the foamy soap that he
had applied. With his eyes closed, he leaned against the shower stall,
letting his mind drift as he contemplated the events that had taken place
just over the last week.

How he had survived the last five days was beyond him. Between his brother's
constant nagging and teasing about his upcoming date with Seth, his and
Bakura's strained friendship – which resorted in him finding another person
to sit with in class - and the possibility of something more happening
between him and the older Kaiba… he was one big bundle of raw nerves.

Yami's teasing he could handle – that was nothing new between them – but… he
didn't realize how much he had grown to need Bakura as a friend until they
were no longer on speaking terms. He missed the sarcastic banter, the mock
insults, even the closeness they had. While he didn't see himself in a
steady relationship with the white-haired sophomore, he still wanted the
other around.

What he had said that day to Malik was true. He did love Bakura in some way;
a strange emotion he didn't realize was really possible until he had come to
the States. The older male had been – in a weird way – his first real friend
outside of his own flesh and blood, and the sudden loss left an aching hole
in him.

He had gotten so used to being alone… a numbness that seemed almost second
nature now. Atemu poured all his love and devotion into his twin, the one
person that continued to stick beside him even when he knew he was downright
impossible to deal with ninety-five percent of the time.

With a sigh, he removed himself from under the spray of water before
shutting it off. Grabbing the white towel off of the hanger, he began to dry
his body, scrubbing harder than necessary to remove the water that lingered
on him. Wrapping it around his waist, he left his hair alone, letting it
hang freely. As he opened the bathroom door, he heard a knock, his eyebrows
furrowing as he wondered who it could be. Yami had left sometime ago with
that younger cocksucker of a Kaiba and his Kaiba – he wrinkled his nose –
wasn't supposed to be here for another hour… who the hell?

Shrugging his shoulders, he walked over to the door and opened it. Closing
his eyes with a sigh, Atemu stepped aside and let Bakura in. "Why?" was all
he asked as he shut the door.

Bakura's eyes lingered on Atemu's face, his mouth drawn into a taut line
before his gaze wandered down the partially nude body. "You know, if you
don't want me coming on to you, you should at least make an effort not to
look like that in front of me."

Crimson eyes rolled and he crossed his arms across his chest in a defiant
motion. "I wasn't expecting company. Maybe if you had called, I would have
known to put my clothes on."

"Would you have answered if I had called?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Atemu looked away, not wanting to face his ex-lover
anymore. "I don't know. Maybe?"

They stood there in silence for several minutes before Bakura let out a long
breath and spoke. "Hit me. It will make you feel better."

Atemu's head whipped around, his eyes wide as he looked at the white-haired
male incredulously, "¿Cómo?"

"I'm guessing that was a 'what'. Anyway, I said, 'hit me, it will make you
feel better'."

"Can I use a baseball bat?"

"Atemu!" Bakura screamed in frustration, "I'm trying to apologize here!"

"And I'm trying to accept it!"

"With a baseball bat?"

"Yes." Atemu threw Bakura a smirk before he walked over to the closet and
began to rummage around looking for the outfit he had picked out earlier in
the week. "Kura – am I still allowed to call you that?" Hearing an amused
snort, Atemu continued. "Do you even know what you are apologizing for?"

"Sure I do. I was an ass. I shouldn't have come on to you that night."

"And?"

"…And I shouldn't have said those things."

"And?"

"Damn it!" Bakura stalked up to the Latino, his face just barely inches from
the other. "What else do you want me to say? Huh? That I miss you? Fine! I
miss you. I miss talking to you, making fun of others with you, hanging out,
being partners in class…."

Crimson eyes gazed hard into Bakura's eyes, searching for the truth. "So,
you miss me and not the sex?"

The sophomore sighed, his shoulders shagging, "Yes, I miss my best friend.
And… I'm sorry."

Atemu nodded his head, relief flooding him down to his soul. "Well then,
looks like we're going to partner up again, aren't we?"

"Yeah, the sex was great, fan-fucking-tasic!"

Laughing, Atemu punched Bakura in the shoulder, taking satisfaction in the
grunt of pain he heard. "That's not what I meant, hijo de puta. And you know
it!"

When Seto started walking toward his bedroom, shedding the red and white
striped Duck Head shirt he wore unbuttoned over his red crew neck
undershirt, Yami at first was hesitant to follow. The brunet noticed when he
reached the hallway and Yami still stood in the living room, hugging his
bare torso and biting his lip. And he'd been so excited a second ago, too…
Things would probably go more smoothly if he kept Yami worked up, Seto
decided, nodding to himself, and put on a reassuring smile before walking
back over to Yami.

He didn't give the other a chance to complain before his lips covered Yami's
again and a hand ran smoothly down his chest to unbutton the smaller male's
jeans. Yami made a soft sound in the back of his throat, half protest, half
groan of pleasure, but whatever it was Seto's tongue caught it before it
could develop and neatly distracted the spiky-haired freshman from the hand
groping down the front of his pants and tugging him slowly down the hall
toward Seto's bedroom.

Yami's arms were smoothing down Seto's shoulders, catching the hem of his
shirt and sliding under it and out again, burning hot where the eager but
slightly timid fingers stroked and freezing cold once they had gone. The
sophomore felt goosebumps rise all over his arms and he abandoned slow
seduction and picked Yami up, carrying him to his room and tossing him on
the bed, where he landed on his back with a delighted laugh and smiled up at
Seto.

The brunet took a moment just to look at Yami, really look, at the small,
slender body stretched out atop his bed, wearing only a pair of unbuttoned
jeans and a sweet smile. His wild hair splayed out stark red against the
dark green sheets, and his incredible crimson eyes were half-lidded and
glazed over with desire.

Seto'd never been with anybody half as beautiful.

"Seto?" Yami questioned after a moment, his smile slipping as he shifted
uncomfortably. "Why are you staring at me?"

"No reason," the other responded, and the strange moment was broken,
replaced with the carefully meditated desire from before as Seto leaned over
Yami and began kissing his neck, before moving down to bestow wet kisses on
his chest and nipples and slowly working Yami into a frenzy as he removed
the smaller male's unbuttoned pants.

Tight black boxer-briefs soon followed and Yami was naked before him,
writhing and panting and moaning as Seto's mouth kept working him. He tried
to say something that sounded like Seto's name, but when it came out as a
mixture between a hiss and a garbled moan Seto decided he was ready. He
flipped Yami over on his stomach and quickly stripped the rest of his own
clothes before reaching into the nightstand beside his bed for a bottle of
lubricant.

When he glanced back at Yami the other had rolled back over onto his back
and was watching him in confusion, breathing harshly. "What… what is that?"

"Shh." Seto kissed him and pushed him back onto his stomach, pulling Yami up
so he was on his hands and knees before walking behind him and grabbing him
by the hips.

Yami jumped at the touch. "Seto? What are you doing?"

The brunet heard a trace of fear in the question so he let his hands roam up
and down Yami's back, massaging him softly until he calmed somewhat. "This
is your first time, isn't it? Don't worry, this just makes it easier." He
reached down and stroked Yami's erection as he squirted the cold liquid
liberally on Yami's backside, hoping to distract the smaller male a little.

Obviously it didn't work, because Yami jumped and squirmed to get away from
Seto's firm grip on his hips. "Ahh!"

"Shh, what's wrong, baby?"

Either the endearment or Seto's caressing fingers served to calm Yami once
again because he quit squirming, though his breath came out in ragged pants
as he propped his forehead on his folded arms. "You… had that stuff by your
bed? Were you… planning this?"

Seto rolled his eyes. He'd only wanted this since the moment they met… "It's
massage oil," he lied smoothly. "It helps to rub it in my muscles when they
get tense."

Yami seemed reassured, so Seto squirted more lubricant in his hand and
probed one finger inside the smaller male, making sure to stroke the other's
erection meanwhile to keep him distracted. Yami hissed, squirming a bit more
at the sensation. "Seto… that feels weird…" he mumbled.

"Does it hurt?"

"No." A whisper.

"Good." Seto wriggled another finger inside, soon followed by a third,
stretching Yami as quickly as possible before pouring even more lubricant
onto his own erection and, placing the head at Yami's entrance, slowly began
pushing inside.

When Yami realized what Seto was doing he started thrashing, struggling
wildly against the hands that gripped his hips with near-bruising force.
"No! Seto, wait! Stop it! I wanted to see your face! I need to see your
face! Don't do it like this… AH!"

But it was too late, Seto was already sheathed completely inside him,
struggling to breathe normally in spite of the crushing pleasure and to let
Yami adjust. "Shh," he murmured, leaning over Yami's back and brushing his
bangs from his eyes. "It'll hurt less this way."

"But…" Yami looked doubtful, so Seto gave an experimental thrust and watched
the fear slide from the other's face to be replaced with surprised pleasure.
"Oh…" Yami shifted underneath him as Seto gave a more forceful thrust, and
this time he must have hit the magic spot because the moan Yami let out was
just short of a scream.

Taking this as a good sign, Seto grinned and began moving in earnest,
groaning in satisfaction at the sight of the slender little body beneath him
beginning to respond and match him thrust for thrust. Yami gasped and
panted, letting out the most delightful yelps whenever Seto hit his
prostate, and soon the brunet was pounding away with all he had, stroking
Yami's erection intermittently just to watch him beg and wriggle underneath
him.

They kept up the rhythm for several minutes, though Seto couldn't say how
long it lasted since he lost all sense of time in the onslaught of
sensation, of Yami's gasps and pants and the sweet crushing heat, until the
wild-haired male came harshly in Seto's hand, bucking and arching his back
as he did so and nearly breaking free of Seto's hold. The brunet managed to
last a minute or so longer, until he finally came with a shuddering sigh,
inside the body that now hung limp and exhausted under his fingers.

Hissing, Seto pulled out and let go of Yami, falling on his back on the bed
and allowing the freshman to roll over and curl up against his side. He
wrapped an arm around Yami's shoulders as the other blinked up at him with
solemn scarlet eyes. "So, was it good for you?" Yami asked.

Taken aback, the brunet made a face and Yami burst out laughing. "Sorry, I
had to say it."

Seto snorted and closed his eyes. Leave it to Yami to be so corny… but at
the same time he was strangely endearing. And so hot. Seto definitely
wouldn't mind doing this again, not if every time with Yami felt like that.
"Let's rest for a bit, then I'll take you back to your dorm. Wouldn't want
your brother to freak out on me…" Seto mumbled.

They lay there a moment, and just when Seto was about to drift off he heard
Yami's soft voice murmur against his chest, "I love you…"

He waited until Yami fell asleep to open his eyes.

"Ok, rule number one."

"On how to be a true Southerner?"

"Yes. Now, you must own a truck and not just any truck. It has to be a
Dodge, Chevy or Ford, preferably the latter two. Those others are foreigners
and we in the South just don't do anything 'un-American.'"

Atemu quirked an eyebrow. "Where does that leave me then?"

Seth just smirked as he wrapped an arm around the Latino's shoulders,
casually steering him through the crowded street as they headed for an empty
bench. "Lucky for you, I'm not one for following the rules."

"And I bet it doesn't hurt that you're not a 'true Southerner' either huh?
Seeing as how you drive an SUV."

"That too. Now what you must know – and this is rule number 3 – is that
trucks can only be driven a certain way." Seth released Atemu's shoulders
and took his plate of gallo pinto – fried rice and black beans - that they had
purchased earlier and sat iton the edge before he took a seat on the bench
beside his date. "You must drive with one of your hands on the top of the
steering wheel at all times."

Atemu hummed appreciatively as he savored the bite of beef. It had been way
too long since he had tasted the addicting flavor of his homeland. "Why?"

"Ah, well you see, since your hand is at the top, it's easy for you to wave
at every single truck that passes you as you drive. It's like some unwritten
law or something. Pickup truck owners are like the 'good ol' boys' and they
have their own little clan or something. I personally think it's like a
secret handshake, passed down from generation to generation."

Atemu blinked and his plastic forked stopped midway to his mouth as he
stared at Seth. "You people are weird."

The sophomore just shrugged his shoulders and gave the other male a cheeky
grin. "We're in our own little world down here. You won't find any other
place like the South. And we like it for the most part. Now… if we could
just keep the foreign riff-raff from crossing…."

Atemu puffed up, his eyes narrowing even as he smiled. "Look who asked who
out on a date. And to a Latino festival no less. That's foreign, in case you
forgot."

Nodding his head in assent, Seth sat back and started eating his meal, a
peaceful atmosphere surrounding them even though the upbeat Latin music and
swarms of people were everywhere. Azure eyes stole glances every now and
then to the smaller male, taking in his appearance all over again, as if he
couldn't get enough of the exotic sight.

Now that fall had arrived, Atemu had taken to dressing a bit warmer by
wearing a long-sleeved gray t-shirt and low cut jeans. Every so often, as
the cuff of his sleeve rose up his arm, Seth could see a black leather
wristband peek out from the material. Atemu wasn't dressed up, but was very
casual and it fit him well.

His own food now forgotten, along with the proper name of the dish that
Atemu had so graciously made fun of his for trying to pronounce right, he
was content to watch crimson eyes close in some sort of bliss with every
bite he took. "Do you and Yami get the chance to cook anything from your
home?" he asked, curious as to the other's background, something they hadn't
touched on yet.

Atemu shook his head, his eyes gazing off into the crowd of moving people of
various nationalities. "No, there is no way to cook in the dorm and most
places around here serve Mexican. Taco Bell is not anything close to what we
are used to."

"Do you miss it at all?" When Atemu sighed and sat his plate down beside
him, Seth frowned. Guess he shouldn't have brought that of all things up.
But still, he wanted to get to know the other man, every aspect, so he had
to start somewhere.

"Not really. I mean some things I miss like the land, the villages…but
others not so much. Besides, I have everything I need here in Atlanta."

"Your brother?"

Atemu nodded his head, a faint smile playing on his lips, "And Bakura and
even Malik." A scowl played across Seth's face at the mention of the
white-haired sophomore, causing Atemu to chuckle. "He was only messing with
you, you know."

"Threatening me within an inch of my life if I hurt you and then kissing you
– on the lips I might add – before he left is not what I call 'only messing'
with me."

Atemu just smiled as he leaned closer to the taller man, crimson eyes
playful. "Jealous?"

Licking his lips, Seth leaned in closer also, their eyes locked on each
other to the point that everything else around them disappeared. "Yes. For a
while now."

Atemu just rolled his eyes and turned away, effectively breaking the mood
quickly enough that it left Seth blinking and mouth agape. "Don't tell me
you started falling for me when I kissed you that day out in the hallway."

"Yes, but not because of that. But because of what happened before, in the
classroom. No one has ever bested me or stood up to me. My name alone
usually scares most people away."

Snorting and crossing his arms, Atemu radiated 'foul mood,' at which Seth
quirked an eyebrow, only to frown when the other spoke. "A name is nothing.
It means nothing. And unfortunately it links you with others bearing the
same name."

"But Yami…"

"My brother did not give me my last name now did he?"

"Oh." Seth sat there, stunned at the turn of events and mood. He had known
since their oh-so-wonderful double date that Atemu had some issues with
blood but until now he hadn't realized who he had meant. "I take it you and
your parents don't get along?"

"They would have to have been around to even 'not get along'," Atemu spat
and stood up, forgetting about his abandoned plate lying on the bench seat.
Seth watched him for a spilt second before he followed, his longer stride
allowing him to catch up with the smaller male quickly.

"I'm sorry," he stated as he and Atemu made their way back through the
crowd, noticing that Atemu was heading them back in the direction of the
entrance to the festival. "I didn't mean…."

"What the hell are you sorry for?" Atemu stopped and spun around, catching
Seth off guard to the point he almost ran into him. Anger, hurt, betrayal
swirled in the Latino's eyes. "You weren't the one that forgot about the
other twin. You weren't the one that decided that since the other one was
strong he didn't need anyone or anything other than the basics. You weren't
the one that thought the prediction of volcanos' eruptions were more
important than the two kids you had had."

Atemu's shoulders heaved as his lungs struggled to pull air into his body.
Seth reached a hand out, wanting to give some comfort but Atemu just brushed
it off and started walking again, his words now more than a whisper but Seth
heard him nevertheless as they walked side by side.

"Do you know that it was I who had to take care of Yami since we were six?
We were left alone in some primitive village most of the time while they
researched." Atemu laughed suddenly, a bitter sound that upset Seth. "Can
you imagine two twins, both with red eyes and weird hair surrounded by some
of the most superstitious, primitive people you have ever seen?" Atemu shook
his head, "Anyway, they never cared at least not for me; Yami maybe, in the
beginning at least, but never…"

Atemu trailed off, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes
calm but distant as they continued to walk, the festival now behind them.
Seth was quiet, not really sure as to what to say. Mentally, he snorted. And
here he thought that he and Seto had it bad with an asshole for a father.
Sure, Gozaburo was a bastard, but his mom, well she had done her best and
had loved them both – equally.

A quiet 'I'm sorry' broke through his musings and he turned his head to see
Atemu's head lowered, watching the sidewalk intently as it moved beneath
their feet.

"Don't worry about it. I was the one who brought the whole…"

Atemu cut him off. "I shouldn't have opened my mouth. It's not your problem
anyway."

Seth's hand darted out, catching Atemu's elbow, stopping them both. Gently
he turned the smaller male around so they were facing each other and Seth
lowered his own head so he could look Atemu directly in the eye. "Rule
number one. Your problems are my problems. If something hurts you, then I
want to know, share and help you with it any way I can. Even if it's nothing
but being a sounding board or a punching bag, or whatever else you need at
the time."

Confusion was clear on Atemu's face, something Seth found completely
adorable. "Rule number one? Didn't we already go over that one? And what the
fuck does that have to do with the South?"

Seth smiled, running his hand down the other's arm, linking their fingers
together. "It doesn't. That's the first rule of a good relationship."