Eh... long time no see? Sorry this took so long. I decided that the last week of each month would be a week to devote myself to oneshots and whatnot, but I didn't really finish any (and the ones I finished I was not satisfied enough with to post). That and I've just been wrestling with general writer's block and good old-fashioned procrastination. I know, I know, this isn't an excuse factory, but I feel like you guys deserve some type of explanation for my prolonged absence. (Ugh, at least I'm still updating most of my works for this fandom.)

Chapter Eight

Outside the windows, all was dark. The sky in the west had the faintest tinge of red-violet, but the rest was black velvet studded with stars. Seto absent-mindedly glanced to the clock on his computer. 10:03 PM.

He looked back down to the papers and blueprints before him. The warm glow of his desk lamp washed them in tones of yellow-orange.

He signed off on another blueprint, a flourish for the "T" and "I" in Seto Kaiba, and moved on to the next.

He frowned down at the large paper, his eye catching on clunky edges of the design, and scrolled through the CAD to find the corresponding 3D model.

It was just as boxy and awkward on the model.

He furiously clicked away. The white panel of an empty email flares across the screen, and he lowered his fingers to type away – what idiot made this design? –

Knock knock knock

The timid rapping of knuckles upon his door.

His head whipped up, blue eyes blinking, startled.

"... Seto…?"

Yugi.

He immediately stood, strode to the door, and hastily opened it. "Yugi?"

Sure enough, there he stood, violet eyes blinking, support cane in hand.

"What's wrong?" Seto blurted. Yugi had made the effort to traverse the stairs unsupervised for the first time.

In the near-dark.

A sheepish smile, and Yugi rubbed his elbow with his free hand. Seto blinked down at his bare chest and quickly tore his gaze away. "Can… can I come in?"

Seto backed away from the door. "Yeah."

Yugi edged forward and continuously swung his support cane in a wide, cautious arc.

Seto watched, watched Yugi explore until his support cane hit a leg of the bed. His other hand touched the mattress.

He looked over his shoulder. "Can I sit?"

Seto nodded, then nearly slapped himself. Yugi couldn't see him nodding.

Maybe Seto was more tired than he thought.

"Go ahead."

Yugi cautiously perched on the edge of the mattress, folded the long white cane, and set it next to his thigh. The defined tendons on the back of his slender hands flickered in the muted glow of the desk lamp.

"Nothing's wrong," Yugi said.

And Seto felt his brow furrowed before he remembered his own question to the young man before him.

Yugi sighed, lifted a shoulder. His dark hair trailed along his pale skin. It was just long enough to weigh it all down now. "Well, nothing's wrong yet."

"Hn." Seto closed the door, but remained there.

"I have a feeling… it's gonna be one of those nights, y'know?" Yugi said, voice wrung out with exhaustion.

He sounded miserable.

"So… I was wondering…" he bit his lip a moment, shoulders inching higher. "... If I could sleep here." His cheeks were furiously red. "With you."

Seto blinked.

The red reached Yugi's ears and crawled down his neck. "I mean – I'd get it if you said no, but – I thought it was worth asking, I know the last time was probably – probably a one-time thing – but – "

"Of course you can," Seto said, firm, but gentle, cutting clearly through Yugi's nervous rambling. "Of course you can sleep here."

With me.

Yugi's breathed heaved out of his chest, and he deflated, relieved. "Thank you." He blinked, leaned back on his palms. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"No, I was still working on some paperwork. Probably will be for another hour or so, but… you can still lay down if you want. You can put your cane on one of the nightstands." Seto ambled back over to his desk.

Yugi hands traced on the dark blue comforter. "What… what side of the bed do you normally sleep on?"

Seto blinked at him.

Lately, he somehow ended up in the middle hugging the spare pillow. A strange habit he'd developed. (Though he knew exactly the root and its advent, but wouldn't quite admit it to himself most of the time, let alone to Yugi.)

"It doesn't matter to me."

Yugi nodded, crawled up to the top of the bed, set his cane on the nightstand, and began to burrow underneath the blanket and sheet. Seto watched the fabric blur the outlines of Yugi's form. That dark hair splayed on the pillowcase, and Yugi nuzzled the pillow happily. From where he sat at his desk, he could hear Yugi eagerly huffing the scent of the linens. The tension immediately left that small body, and he settled, melted into the bed.

Seto looked away, cheeks warm, and stared at the uncompleted email. A click.

Save draft?

A click.

Draft deleted.

He stared down at the blueprints. Then to the man curled up in his bed. He shifted them all into a neat pile. They didn't really need to be filed until next week, anyway.

Another sleepy sigh from the bed. Seto shut down his computer, stood, and flicked off the lamp. He was already in his sleep wear (if he was going to do work before bed he was going to do it in comfort, dammit), so all he had to do was walk over to the bed and begin tugging down the blankets.

Purple eyes, black in the near-perfect darkness, blinked up at him. "You're done already?"

Seto shrugged. "I shouldn't be staying up so late, anyway. Bad for my health."

"Hm," Yugi hummed. And then Seto was sliding between the sheets.

Seto could feel Yugi stiffen, watched his shallow breaths. Seto edged closer, but not too close, still on his own side of the bed, and settled down. Gradually, Yugi relaxed, and he was backing up, wiggling to Seto's side.

Seto exhaled slowly, rolled onto his side.

They met in the middle, Yugi's back to Seto's chest. Seto draped an arm around Yugi's waist. Seto sighed sleepily, nuzzled the pillow, and, in turn, Yugi's dark, wild hair.

The warmth blossomed under the blankets, and Seto's eyes were falling shut, his breaths evening out.

"Night, Seto…" Yugi murmured.

"Night… Yugi…"

Yugi was so much warmer than a pillow.

When Yugi awoke, fire still raged behind his eyelids. He gasped for air, lungs burning with phantom pain, thrashed against the bonds holding him down. "Grandpa!" He shouted.

He had to get to him. He had to make it in time.

"Yugi," a voice murmured in his ear. The bindings tightened.

"No!" He yelped, squirming. Oh, god, he couldn't see, couldn't see.

"Yugi," the voice repeated, rough with sleep and fervent and gentle. "It's just me. You're all right."

Seto.

Yugi stopped writhing, but still he trembled, and he panted in confusion. Slender, warn hands stroked his hair, stroked his face.

"You're safe. I've got you."

Yugi slumped, but his heart raced away in his chest. "Seto…"

What he realized were arms held him tighter, and Yugu's fingers curled into the material of Seto's silky pajama shirt.

One of those hands petted his back in slow, soothing strokes.

Yugi sniffled.

"It was just a dream," Seto murmured into his ear. "Just a dream, Yugi."

Yugi nodded, pressed his face into Seto's neck.

"You're fine, you're safe, Grandpa's safe. Everything's fine," Seto whispered, all but crooned. "Go back to sleep, Yugi. I've got you."

"I-I'm s-sorry," Yugi whimpered.

Another soothing stroke, and then that big, warm palm was rubbing circles on his back. "You've got nothing to apologize for."

Yugi whimpered again, but the arms wrapped around him were too warm and felt too good to be tense for long, especially with Seto's soothing scent wrapped about him like a blanket. Eventually, he was slumping back into the mattress, lips parted for sleepy breaths.

He was far too gone to notice the kiss pressed to the top of his head.

Seto heard it as soon as he came home.

Bows dancing across strings, light, almost flitting, like little birds and butterflies composed of sound. Seto tilted his head. It wasn't classical, or one of the other well-studied music periods. It was modern.

Cellos, violins, the occasional thrum of a bass. It was pleasing, a menagerie of well-fitted sounds.

Seto followed the sound, to one of the sitting rooms.

At the threshold, the music was louder; it poured forth from the doorway, water from a pitcher. Afternoon light filtered into the room from the bay window. Curled up on the large sill, right in the sunlight, was Yugi, his white cane folded up next to him. With that warm glow, Yugi's bangs seemed to be molten gold. Vivid purple eyes blinked slowly, like sleepiness physically weighed down Yugi's lashes, despite the energetic allegro tempo of the music.

Yugi sighed, content, his eyes finally sliding closed, his breath evening out. Seto leaned against the doorway, watched Yugi sleepily caress the pillow under his head before he stilled.

Yugi had fallen asleep.

Seto smiled, a fond, private smile, and stepped away quietly.

Before he knew it, he was back in his closet, pulling that case of the highest shelf. He brought it out, sat at the very edge of his desk chair, and set the case on the polished surface. Latches clicked, familiar and accursed.

He stared at that stained, polished wood, the long, blond horsehairs of the bow. He made a noise low in his throat. One eyebrow furrowed. He traced a finger along the bow.

He thought about the days when it was just him and his violin instructor. He thought about the days when he was too tired and mentally fried to even play a scale correctly, though he still tried his damnedest and came out mostly in tune. He thought about the days when he was sawing on those strings and playing pieces with which people twice his age and experience struggled. He thought about the days when countless old men would surround him, eye critically his little hands on the instrument as Gozaburo showed off his little charity case.

And he thought about that sanguine curl of Yugi's lips as he laid on the vast lawn of the Kaiba Estate, cords twining from his ears and his arms folded behind his head.

Gingerly, slender fingers plucked up that bow, rosined it with practiced care. The chin and shoulder rest needed adjustment to fit his now-larger body, but the angle his neck took to accommodate the instrument was all too familiar.

Pluck, pluck, pluck, and the strings vibrated. Seto winced. Of course it would be out of tune. He tightened and loosened some strings. Pluck, pluck, pluck. A few more adjustments, and then he was sliding the bow across the strings with just enough pressure to make sound. He played a slow scale, and the notes grew with volume as he fell back into the motion.

It still needed tuning.

Seto growled.

He guessed that was just what happened when you leave your string instrument alone for so many years.

A ponderous chromatic scale, lilting and strange, and then he was satisfied. That was as well as he could do without a tuner.

He breathed out through his nose, ran through several scales in several keys to warm up. His lip curled. He remembered them all. (It wasn't too surprising; as it turned out, he was as good at the violin as he was at most things – he wasn't just a genius, but a musically-inclined genius, too).

Sufficiently warmed up, he immediately fell into the first piece at the front of his mind.

Light, fast, the violin chirping almost like a flock of birds flitting from branch to branch.

Antonio Vivaldi's Spring.

His lip curled again as he sawed the bow gracefully, swiftly over the strings. He didn't miss a single note.

Seamlessly, he jumped to Beethoven's Violin Sonata No. 9, then to Mozart's Queen of the Night from his opera "The Magic Flute."

Corelli, Bach, more Vivaldi, Wagner, more Beethoven, more Vivaldi, Chopin, Brahms, more Vivaldi (Seto suddenly realized he must have a subconscious preference for Vivaldi, if he had to go by the sheer numbers of pieces he seemed to remember by that composer).

He played until a pager chirped. Dinner was done.

Stunned, he set the violin in his case.

He'd been… enjoying himself.

He thought about the sound of his violin, and, at dinner, he thought about playing for Yugi, playing for him during one of those inevitable and frequent times when they would inexplicably end up in each other's rooms, in each other's beds, playing for him until those brilliant violet eyes grew heavy with sleep, until the music followed him into his sweet dreams.

Because who could have nightmares to the sound of Vivaldi?

Yugi could only imagine how out-of-place Joey looked in the Kaiba manor. Not simply because of a perceived gap in class, but because of how awkward and stiff the other young man seemed. Yugi laughed to himself, shook his head.

"What?" Joey snapped. Fabric shuffled anxiously.

"I can feel how tense you are," Yugi replied, voice thick with amusement. "Relax. No one's going to just pop out and attack you. Seto isn't even home right now." Yugi snorted to himself. Seto wouldn't attack, anyway, maybe not physically. He was a bit more finicky than that, like a cat watching from afar with a sour gaze. Glaring around corners. Spitting and retreating when approached.

Yugi laughed again.

He could sense Joey's stare boring holes into his face. So he gestured toward the couches he knew were positioned carefully in the center of the room.

"Why don't we sit down? Make ourselves comfortable."

He didn't need his support cane to find a place to sit; he'd memorized the layout of not only this room but many in the manor. His own room, his bathroom, several sitting rooms, the dining room, the kitchen, entertainment rooms…

Seto's room.

Not that he'd mention that to Joey.

He heard Joey settle down across from him; fabric whispering together, the creak of weight on a frame, air gasping from a cushion. He blinked. The smear of that garish green jacket amongst the sea of muted tones of the furniture.

"How have you been?" he asked quietly. Avoided the question he really wanted to ask, or to bring up just how long it had been since last they met. A few weeks, now. The longest span of time they'd went without one another's presence in a very long time.

They fell into easy chatter, and it seemed like those weeks of absence were smoothed over like wrinkles in a shirt.

Laughter, the warmth of their bond. Yugi wondered vaguely if it was the same feeling as having a brother.

A comfortable lull in the conversation suddenly stretched between them. Yugi breathed slowly, leaned his temple on his knuckles. Joey blew out a heavy exhale, one with sputtering lips and puffed out cheeks.

"Listen, Yug'," Joey blurted, and then he was silent a few more moments, though his fidgeting occupied Yugi's hearing just enough. "I'm sorry. About… well, everything."

Yugi blinked. He stayed silent. Knowing Joey, this wasn't quite the end.

"... I haven't been a very good best friend lately. I haven't really been there for you like I should have. I mean… Kaiba's been a better friend to you than I have through all this…" he muttered.

Yugi lowered his eyes. "I really didn't want to lose you over something like this, Joey… You have been acting a little silly lately. But I get it. I understand that change isn't easy. Especially change that isn't necessarily wanted."

"It doesn't make what I did okay, or even, like, justify it, y'know?" Joey sputtered to himself. "It's got to be pretty bad when Kaiba's the one calling me and chewing me out, right?"

Yugi froze, eyes snapping back up, even if he couldn't discern Joey's expression or even his body language. "What?"

Joey chuckled, and Yugi imagined him rubbing the back of his neck in that sheepish way he was wont to do. "Yeah. He really gave me that what's-what and who's-who over the phone."

Yugi could only blink.

"I mean, he obviously cares a lot about ya if he thought he had to call me to set everything straight. Set me straight."

Yugi's cheeks heated a little bit, and he shyly rubbed his hand on the arm of the chair to try and distract himself with the fabric's texture under his warm palm.

Gentle, sleepy embraces. Hands stroking his hair. A guiding touch to the waist. Gentle fingers tipping his head back and the rasp of a shaving razor.

"He's been good to me…" Yugi whispered. "I… I…" a huff of breath.

Joey chuckled. "I figured as much. You got a soft spot for the ones with soft spots." Another snort. "Though a guy like Kaiba would deny having anything remotely resembling a soft spot."

Yugi smiled. "Yeah, he would."

Yugi touched his side. The corrugated scars from the skin graft rippled subtly beneath his fingertips. The action was subconscious: it was a thing he unwittingly took to doing when he was deep in thought. The sun was hot on him, and he kicked his legs in the conditioned water of the pool.

Seto set his jaw on his fist and watched. "Thinking about swimming?" Well, that much was obvious. Yugi was wearing swim trunks after all.

Yugi nodded, looked over his shoulder.

Seto wondered if it was just trained behavior for Yugi to look to the person speaking to him.

"Go ahead. You're at the shallow end. If anything happens, I'm right here," Seto assured.

"You're right here," Yugi echoed, lips tightening and relaxing, and then he pushed himself into the water.

His sigh of delight was audible. Seto found himself smiling.

Actually, Seto found himself smiling a lot around Yugi.

Yugi cautiously waded further in, pale hands trailing across the surface. Seto watched his back move, blankly admired how the sun and shadows fell on his gently defined musculature. He paused, looked back over his shoulder as if for reassurance.

Seto laughed quietly. "Go ahead, Yugi."

Yugi smiled back, warm and trusting, and Seto nearly choked on his breath. Wreathed in light from the sun reflecting off the water, Yugi looked... angelic.

Yugi turned away, waded farther in. The sound of disturbed water lapped at the heat-heavy air. "It's so nice…" Yugi murmured, and he sank down, jerking a little when the cool liquid touched sensitive parts. He practically sat in the shallow end, leaned back on his palms. "So nice…"

Seto shook his head and grinned privately. His laptop laid forgotten on the table before him.

Yugi leaned father back, gasped and arched when the water climbed up between his shoulder blades.

Seto laughed again.

"Oh, shut up," Yugi muttered, kicked his feet gracefully.

Surrounded by summer sun and that light blue pool water, Yugi looked so damn pale. Though he seemed to be tanner since moving in to the mansion: his regular and frequent basking helped to darken his skin a little. Yugi didn't seem to tan easily, Seto realized.

"It's not my fault that you're so…" Adorable. Could he dare say it to Yugi's face?

"So…?" Yugi questioned, turning, facing Seto. His bangs and the drooping tips of his wild mane clung wetly to his pale skin.

Seto gulped. For more than one reason. "… Pathetic."

Yugi pursed his lips. "I'd like to see you somehow not have an otherwise perfectly human reaction."

Seto chortled. "You speak as if I'm human."

Yugi laughed, head tossed back. "You're right! I forget that you're basically a robot. Maybe that's why I've never even heard of you touching water; you'd short circuit."

A snort, and Seto readjusted himself in his seat. "Nonsense. Technology has advanced to the point where I hold no fear of water or other liquids."

Yugi hunkered lower in the water until it was lapping at his chin. "You probably design your own parts, huh?"

"Indeed. I can't trust anyone else to do it," Seto remarked haughtily.

Yugi laughed again, and Seto's cheeks warmed. And then he was staring intently in Seto's direction, and his voice was thick with amusement.

– Seto always found himself wondering what Yugi saw –

"Then you wouldn't be opposed to swimming with me?"

Seto paused, glanced down at himself. He was in some board shorts and an old Duel Monsters T-shirt. "I'm not exactly equipped for swimming. Currently."

Yugi pouted again. "Party pooper. Just take your shirt off. Simple."

Seto frowned. He didn't like being half-clothed outside the privacy of his bedroom.

He didn't have anything to hide.

He just hated feeling so vulnerable.

Yugi shifted, but Seto could still see the discoloration, pale and dark and ragged, on his side through the water's distortion. Seto stood up, peeled his shirt over his head. He set it on the back of his chair. He toed his shoes and socks off and made sure his pockets were empty.

"I suppose board shorts aren't too different from swim trunks," Seto said with a theatrical sigh.

Yugi grinned. Edged forward in the water. Seemingly on his hands and knees. With that wild mane, Yugi reminded Seto of a lion seeking shelter from the African sun, now poised forward, playful and ready to pounce, rippling with excitement.

He just didn't know. He didn't know he could make someone other than Mokuba so happy with things so simple.

He stepped into the sunlight, up to the steps of the pool. He dipped a toe in.

It did seem to be the perfect temperature. He stepped in. Cool water surged up to his ankles. Then to his lower shin. Then to his calves. Until he was steadily wading into the water.

He sighed. In this sweltering weather, the water really did feel damn good.

Then he was thigh-deep in water that Yugi was sitting in. "Are you just going to sit there or are you actually going to swim?" Seto rumbled, turning, walking backwards so he could keep Yugi in his line of sight.

Those unnerving, glittering purple eyes followed him vaguely. The corners were wrinkled by a broad, dazzling smile.

Yugi suddenly dunked his head in, dark hair a swirling cloud around him, and pushed off the bottom of the pool to swim toward Seto.

Seto laughed, backed up a couple more steps as he watched that dark hair and pale skin glide to him under that shimmering water. When Yugi came close, he gently touched Seto's leg, and then surfaced, panting for breath. His hair was absolutely soaked, plastered to his face and shoulders in gold and dark strands. He beamed up at Seto, one unseeing purple eye obscured by wet blond bangs.

"I guess I'll swim a little," he said, grinning and breathless.

Seto lifted a hand, but then Yugi was using Seto's body as leverage to push away. His wet, cool hands splayed on Seto's bare stomach for the briefest second and then he was gone, splashing away through the water.

Yugi was a surprisingly graceful swimmer. His breaststrokes were measured and even, and, when he skimmed the edge of the pool, he curled his fingers around the lip and launched off of it with his feet.

And when he came within three feet of Seto again, he surfaced. "Are you just going to stand there?" He asked, eyebrow arching.

"Well -" and then Seto was sputtering through a mouthful of chlorine water. It dripped down his face and dangled from strands of his hair. He blinked at Yugi. "Did you just splash me?"

Yugi giggled, submerged himself until the water covered his smirking lips. He nodded.

Seto narrowed his eyes. "You little…" and then he was lunging through the water.

Yugi laughed aloud, surged away on a backstroke.

Seto snarled, lurching after him. Yugi may have been a graceful swimmer, but Seto was a faster one; he caught that slim waist in his hands, hoisted him up and out of the water. Water cascaded around them, gleamed like diamonds in that exuberant sunlight. Laughter pealed from Yugi, his head whipped back, hair flopping and water spraying, and his slender hands scrambled on Seto's wet shoulders.

"You'll pay for that, Yugi," Seto growled, and he shifted his hands to toss Yugi back into the water. Slim pale legs wrapped around his bare waist and clenching with surprising strength.

"N-No – please," Yugi gasped out between laughs. "I-I'm—" another string of giggles "— I'm sorry, Seto."

"You don't sound sorry," Seto hissed. His lips twitched up, down into a frown, and then into a wavering straight line.

"I am." Yugi's face was flushed. His warm body trembled laughter against Seto's tall form. "I am sorry."

"Hn, I don't believe it," and then Seto was trying to pry Yugi off of him.

Yugi tightened his legs even more, and he wrapped his arms around Seto's shoulders, his hands in that slightly-damp brown hair. "C'mon, Seto, just…" he laughed, "just accept a hug as my formal apology."

"Accept a hug? As if you're giving me any choice right now…" Seto rumbled. His hands slipped up, and he distantly noted the strange texture of Yugi's skin graft.

Yugi giggled, head tipping to one side, his wet hair dangling down and brushing Seto's face and neck. Seto suddenly realized how close their faces were. Yugi's huffing, gasping breaths fanned and cooled Seto's wet face. Pool water adhered their bare chests to one another.

Seto's heart pounded in his throat, and with shaking hands, he returned Yugi's embrace. Their noses brushed together. Yugi smelled like skin and pool water and suntan lotion.

Yugi's smile fell away, but… those violet eyes rippled with warmth, and a hot chill speared down Seto's spine when he realized that they were peering right into his own.

"This close…" Yugi began quietly, fingers curling into Seto's wet hair, "I can see how blue your eyes are."

Seto's breath caught in his throat. "Yugi…"

Yugi shifted his hands, his thumbs on Seto's cheeks, his fingers splaying out over Seto's neck and hairline. Even closer, now, if at all possible. Their lips weren't touching, but Seto's skin tingled with that teasing proximity. "Seto, I'm going to kiss you."

Seto's fingers clutched hard at those slender flanks, felt lean muscle and soft skin and hard bone give and resist beneath his grasp. "O-Okay," Seto breathed.

That barest distance between them suddenly closed.

Yugi kissed him, so sweetly, so gently, and his thumbs continuously skimmed dover Seto's sharp cheekbones. Seto sighed, content, shifted his hold again, drew Yugi tighter against him, as if the water could dissolve them and they'd blend into one being.

And then Yugi was drawing away, just an inch, laughing softly – almost disbelieving – his breaths fluttering on Seto's face, and then they were both leaning in and locking lips again. Seto cupped the back of Yugi's neck, threaded his fingers through that wild hair (soft and wet and so thick it immediately tangled around his trembling digits), and deepened the kiss, mouths moving just slightly as they turned from gentle to passionate.

"Hm," Yugi was humming with delight, his own hands sinking into Seto's thick hair again to grip and caress. Seto's scalp tingled but so did the rest of him.

Yugi, Yugi, Yugi, it bounced around in his head like a pinball, rapped off the edges of his skull with concusive force, and it echoed until it was spilling from his lips in a breathless huff. "Yugi…"

Yugi panted against his lips, then nipped at them with his own. The slide of a wet tongue over Seto's lower lip, and Seto shuddered, his knees suddenly weak. Those violet eyes were half-lidded, molten with amusement and affection and the dazzling light of the summer sun.

"You taste like chlorine," Yugi noted bluntly, "and coffee."

"The chlorine is your fault," Seto grumbled, and he brushed his teeth against Yugi for the briefest second. "And it's not like you're any better."

"Mmm," Yugi simply hummed, "I don't mind it," and then they were kissing again.

Yugi shifted, teasingly rubbed his feet and calves over Seto's back and thighs as their kisses became light, quick, playful.

Seto sighed again, breathless and just so filled with warmth, unmatched by anything, even this brilliant summer heat. God. He could kiss Yugi all day long.

Both were so caught up in their affections that neither heard the sound of the glass door sliding open.

"Lunch is d— holy shit."

The two whipped their heads toward the door, but their bodies were still wrapped tightly around one another and their embrace tightening with surprise.

Mokuba's lilac eyes blinked widely, his face beet red. "I saw this coming but I didn't think it would happen right in front of my face."

Yugi laughed, blushing, resting his cheek on Seto's shoulder. Seto only sputtered, face blistering hot, but Yugi spoke for him. "Lunch is done, you were saying?"

"Yeah," and then Mokuba was promptly marching back into the house and firmly shutting the sliding door behind him.

Yugi kissed Seto's shoulder then his cheek sweetly. "Hungry?"

Seto nuzzled Yugi's throat as if to hide his face from the world. "I could eat," he mumbled into Yugi's neck.

Yugi petted his hair. "Then let's go."

Seto grumbled.

"I'm not embarrassed," Yugi murmured. "You're the only person I want to be caught kissing."

They both remained silent a moment, let the meaning of those words seep into the very air around them.

And then Seto kissed Yugi's jaw, the barest brush of lips on skin. "Then let's go eat."

They disentangled, but, somehow, their fingers intertwined. Yugi's thumb rubbed Seto's knuckles as they waded out of the pool. Seto grabbed the towel off the table that had been set there earlier, and he tenderly dried Yugi's hair, rubbed and ruffled those crazy, dark locks. Vivid purple eyes blinked at him from under the edge of the fluffy material. Seto paused a moment, and leaned back down to brush their lips together chastely. Yugi giggled, laid his palms on Seto's chest as Seto continued on with his rather self-indulgent drying of Yugi's hair, face, neck, and torso.

Yugi gripped Seto's wrist gently. "My turn."

It seemed like a new level had been unlocked. A new level of physicality, intimacy. They could indulge in the simple touches they yearned for all along.

Yugi was much slower; he dried Seto's hair with almost massage-like care, gently patted Seto's cheeks, mapped out along his neck and shoulders and chest. Exploratory, tender. Seto's cheeks flushed, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the curious, wondrous expression on Yugi's face. Lips parted, the centers of his eyebrows drawn down in concentration.

His fingers brushed the waistband of Seto's shorts, and then his eyebrows were tilting up, cheeks dimpling as he laughed. "Your shorts are soaked."

They were uncomfortable, too.

"It's…" Seto thought about Yugi's lips again, thought about his face flushed and breathless from laughter. "Worth it."

Yugi beamed up at him, set the towel aside. His hands skimmed up Seto's chest and neck to cup his face, but Seto was already leaning down to kiss him again.

Yugi made a noise of pleasure deep in his throat, but drew away, receded like the tide. They held hands and walked into the house.

There were still wet footprints and drops of water trailing behind them.

END PART