Corruptshipping (Priest Set/Thief King Bakura)

. . .

The thing that Set hated most about him was that he never stopped smiling, even when he was the one at the disadvantage. It made Set's skin crawl, wondering if the thief knew something he didn't—maybe it was a bluff. Maybe it wasn't. That was the worst part, the not knowing which it was.

Set kept the blade of his rod at the man's throat, keeping him against the wall with one hand. The guard he had sent for reinforcements should be here with the other priests soon. Set just had to keep the slippery basted pinned until then. His Duos hovered over his head, waiting for any sign of the thief's Diabound—but Set had managed to get the diadhank off of the man's wrist in the struggle, so it was unlikely he would be able to summon without his channel. He just—he just had to hold out for a few more minutes, and the others would be here.

"I'm surprised you don't just kill me," Bakura whispered, seemingly unconcerned with the blade pressed to his throat. "You have the blade. Off me while you can."

"Shut up," Set said. To be truthful, he wanted to. He wanted to slit the man's throat and be done with it, and if he didn't have others to worry about, he would. But they needed to know if he was working alone, if there were other threats to be wary of, they needed to know where his power came from, and for that, he had to be kept alive until the priests could question him. Set chafed at the knowledge, though, wishing he could just plunge the blade through his throat and be done with the whole goddamn business.

Bakura chuckled, his hand slithering up to grip Set's wrist. Set tensed, thinking the thief was about to make a break for it. But all he did was...press the blade a little closer to his own throat? Blood beaded up from a tiny cut as the blade pressed a little deeper against him.

"Do you have a death wish?" Set hissed.

Bakura just laughed.

"I have a wish to see the priests get their goody-two-shoes hands dirty," he said. "Get you off of your pretty little pedestals."

His eyes narrowed as his smile deepened.

"Then again, you've never been on one of those pretty pedestals, have you? You're a street boy...you're more like me."

Set's hand tensed around his blade.

"I am nothing like you," he said.

"Oh? Really?" Bakura said, his voice turning smooth and sultry. "We both grew up alone on the street, didn't we? You know the feeling of sleeping on the ground in the dust...of swallowing sand instead of food...of nicking apples from carts and getting beaten for your trouble. You know what it feels like to watch your village and everyone you love burn to ashes."

Set's hand started to tremble ever so slightly, but he forced it to stay still.

"We are nothing alike," he said again, but it sounded more hollow.

"Aren't we? We both wanted power—power to make sure what happened to us could never happen to us again. Just because you chose to become a priest instead of a thief, you think you're better than I am? You think you made a better choice? Aren't you a thief, too—a thief of people's souls, their lives, to preserve your own pedestal? Tell me how that's different from what I do."

"Shut up," Set said, feeling his voice crack in spite of itself as his hands shook more and—

He had fallen for it, he realized all too late. The hand around his wrist tightened, twisted, and then he was falling backwards, a hand on his throat as he hit the floor of the temple hard, a hand knotted into the fabric of his robe as a body fell onto his chest. Duos cried out above, but there was a snake's head phasing through the wall and Diabound appeared against all reasoning, forcing Duos' attention away from his prone master.

Set scrabbled for his fallen Rod, he had to fight back, he wouldn't die here, he wouldn't—

It happened so quickly, that he thought maybe he had imagined it. But no, he had felt it—the dry, chapped lips claiming his for a few brief seconds, just enough to shock him into stillness, and then the weight was gone from his chest and the temple echoed with the thief's laughter as he fled into the night, disappearing with his monster.

Set could only lay there, shaking, his arms outstretched against the floor—wondering what exactly had just happened.

. . .

A/N: idkkkkkkkk. Next is Copyshipping (Jonouchi x Mai x Anzu).