Let Us Dance

By Ocean

Chapter Three: Nuance

It was too bright out today.

Even with his sunglasses on, it was too bright out today.

Seto sighed quietly to himself, on the verge of being contemplative, but not really in the mood for it. He sat on the far edge of the metal bench, one leg bent over the other, one arm stretched out along the back of his seat. He blinked behind his iridescent sunglasses, his blue eyes having difficulty adjusting to the glare off the polished stone that comprised the floor of the art museum's courtyard.

This was probably the most relaxed pose he had ever had in public, though to the other art patrons he resembled a very realistic statue. He wasn't watching anything in particular, even though the tilt of his head suggested that he was observing the large and peculiar sculpture that welcomed patrons on the museum's front steps. He hadn't really come to appreciate the art, regardless of his opinion of it. It was the duty of a member of the museum, after all, to come and admire the hard earned collection of the curators. It also made a very favorable impression on the public that the president of a technological superpower was an art connoisseur. But he was a busy man, a man whose time would be better spent doing business than admiring artwork he didn't want to understand.

A flock of pigeons that had been energetically cooing in front of him suddenly took off in a flurry of feathers and wing beats. The sudden noise caught his attention and he watched them idly as they flew into the sky, tilting his head to the side while his lips adopted the semblance of a pout.

He envied those birds, to a degree. It wasn't so much that they were free, or that they could take off and hide whenever they wanted. Seto never aspired to such notions of fancy. It had never been in his nature to dream outside of reality. No, he admired those birds for the simple reason that no one expected anything of them at any time other than to be what they were. They could do what they wanted without interruption and not break any rules or disappoint any expectations. If they wanted to sit in the shade and do nothing, they could. If they wanted to squawk at the top of their lungs in the middle of the night, they could. If they wanted to sit above a particularly pristine car for hours on end, they could. They were allowed the freeing notion of no expectation. He simply was not.

It must have been a wonderful sensation. Too bad it was wasted on creatures who couldn't appreciate such a gift.

His night at the club, four short days ago, hadn't ended well in his opinion. He had stayed until the late hours of morning, just watching. Watching Yuugi fall into a protective and possessive embrace around Yami, fingertips trailing through his hair and over the skin of his neck, never trailing from his side or allowing another to come near. He had watched as Yami relaxed and melted sensuously into Yuugi's soft touches and petting. Seto had found himself cataloging every move the two made, every reaction elicited, every sound Yami emitted and every tilt of his body in response to Yuugi's touch. The observation was unconscious, but it was one that left a vibrant stain on his memory.

He had been late for his meeting that morning, which certainly wasn't an experience he was familiar with. He was caught unaware, it made his employees nervous, and his secretary had been at a lost when he hadn't summoned his morning coffee. When asked if anything was wrong, if anything beyond his control had occurred to make him late to a meeting he had arranged, Seto had been unable to do more than straighten his posture and glare a warning against questioning at his inquisitors.

He couldn't have told them he was late because he had lost all sense of time while he watched another man dance at a local bar. Business would have come to a halt while the company devised a plan on how best to hide the scandalous action.

One of the pigeons that had scuttled away a few moments before languidly returned, setting itself down on the bench beside Seto, just beyond the reach of his bent leg. Seto resolutely ignored the bird, keeping his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses and looking out across the courtyard. The pigeon was not offended by this treatment, responding by cleaning its feathers and settling in for a nap.

Seto felt the childish impulse to chase the bird off of his bench. He settled for glaring at the bird from behind the safety of his sunglasses.

Then he realized he was battling over territory with a bird.

Seto pursed his lips. Not only was he in competition with a bird, he was also feeling satisfaction that he was winning. Winning against a bird. It took a moment, but Seto finally allowed himself this victory. It wasn't as though he had had much else to celebrate these past few months.

The pigeon cooed softly in surprise when a shadow fell over it, startling it from its nap. Reluctant to abandon its perch, it was eventually persuaded to do so when a hand waved lazily over its head. The shadow morphed into the shape of a young man with long black hair, his head cocked to the side and his arms crossed in amusement. A soft chuckle interrupted Seto's thoughts.

"I can't believe you were competing with a bird!"

Seto smirked at the snickering voice of his brother. "All victories are accepted."

"But a bird!" Mokuba laughed as he took a seat next to Seto. Seto made no move to welcome his brother, but he also didn't shy away when his arm brushed against his leg. Though the smirk never left his lips, there was little else Seto could offer to assure his brother that he enjoyed his company. "I can't believe you would stoop so low, Onii-san."

"Times change. People... change."

Mokuba eyed his sibling from beneath his long bangs, frowning at Seto's distant and cold expression and the sudden harshness of his posture. He knew there was a double meaning to his brother's words. They were most likely an unconscious admission coupled with an acute observation of the unhealthy habits the siblings had recently adopted. Mokuba shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the sudden nervousness that tightened his chest. He had always been the first to herald his brother's accomplishments, the one who supported Seto without questioning or doubting his abilities. It didn't settle well with him that he no longer had the blinding faith in his brother that he once had.

"Seto, I..." Mokuba started, pausing when Seto failed to acknowledge him. He took a deep breath and held it, sighing its release as he tried to put his emotions into words that could reach his brother. "I've noticed... I've seen you... I... damn it... Are you alright, Seto?"

There was a long moment of silence as Mokuba waited for his question to be answered. The heat of the sun felt cold on his skin as the moments turned into minutes and his fears morphed into reality. A chill skirted its way up his spine, forcing Mokuba to pull his oversized shirt tightly around himself to stave off the cold.

Seto raised his eyebrow in accusation as he watched Mokuba pull at his shirt. "Cold, are you? On a day like this?" He raised his arm and picked despairingly at Mokuba's shirt, tsking when it became apparent just how big the shirt was. "And oversized clothes? Did you really think they were sufficient enough to hide the fact that you are still not eating from me?"

Mokuba tensed further and shied away from the blatant disapproval, wrapping his arms protectively around his middle and ducking his head to the side. He knew this diversionary tactic well, and knew that once Seto had his mind set on something there was no persuading him otherwise. Although this time, Mokuba had the distinct impression that Seto's mind was actually miles away. It was a dead giveaway when he taped his foot so irritably.

"I'm doing the best I can," Mokuba said quietly, "as I'm sure you are. What else can we do?"

Seto considered this, the taping of his foot forgotten as he slowly stood and smoothed the fabric of his sleeves. He tilted his head to the sky, squinting against the glare of the sun and absently watching the flock of pigeons resettle themselves in the shade of the nearest tree. He considered making one of many comments about Mokuba's unhealthy eating habits, abandoning the thought as he knew it would pass on deaf ears, just as Mokuba's words passed unheard over him. He looked over his shoulder at the small and thinning form of his brother, a sheen of compassion flashing over his eyes before he blinked it away.

"Where are you going?" Mokuba called out after Seto when he started to walk away.

Seto waved his hand over his shoulder, his thoughts long ago turned to the task ahead. Mokuba had unknowingly stirred the panic that now lived so close to the surface. He had tried to quell the nervous energy that had been lit in the club those few nights ago. He had tried to ignore the practiced turning of his mind as the solution to his problem was identified and the means of acquiring it supplied.

This meeting with Mokuba had showed Seto that he was on the verge of being discovered, that his actions were not as carefully hidden as he had believed. He wasn't foolish enough to think himself in control – he knew he was anything but – but he had thought he at least still had the capability to fool others.

"I'm going to take care of this," Seto said over his shoulder. "I advise you do the same before you find yourself in my position."

Mokuba frowned at his brother's retreating form; the sadness remaining even after Seto disappeared from sight.

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Her birthday was in a week and she was excited. Her mom had told her that on her ninth birthday she would be allowed to invite a few friends to the local zoo's slumber party, held every night during the summer months. Brown curls bounced around her head as she danced in place, the excitement of the impending event filling her with the jittery energy all children enjoy and her parents wished she didn't have.

She looked up from the orange lollipop she held tightly in her hand, holding it safely away from her right hand as she had been instructed to do. Golden eyes searched the sidewalk for the tall man who had bought her the lollipop from the candy cart on the corner as she absently drew the candy across her already orange tongue. She had readily agreed to the favor he had asked of her in return for buying the lollipop, her need for attention outweighing the caution instilled in her by her parents in regards to strangers. She didn't even question when the man had wrapped a white bandage around her right palm, even though her hand wasn't injured.

An orange tongue paused in mid-lick when the man she had been waiting for walked around the corner and headed her way. She was able to recognize him by the funny cut of his hair, his vibrant red angled eyes, and the long-sleeved crew-neck burnt sunset colored shirt he wore. He looked just as the man who had bought her the lollipop described. Steeling herself, she dropped the remainder of her lollipop, spread her fingers wide, and charged.

"Pardon me?!" Yami questioned the air as the child latched herself around his waist.

Yami was able to stumble to a halt even with the jarring impact from the man walking behind him bumping into him. The pedestrian was ignored as Yami reached down and took hold of the girl's upper arms in an effort to balance both her and him so neither would fall to the pavement. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. He wasn't adverse to children, but he certainly wasn't used to them charging blindly at him and clinging like a puppy to its chew toy.

"Hi!"

Yami gawked in open confusion. An enthusiastic greeting was something else he didn't often experience. Looking down into her glowing eyes and sparkling smile only served to confuse him more, which in turn caused her to giggle at the funny faces he was making. She hugged him more tightly, pushing her hands up under the back of his shirt and pressing her palms flat against the bare of his back in her excitement.

He gently strengthened the hold he had on her forearms in an effort to encourage the girl to release him, but she showed her child's resistance by tightening her grip on him and laughing. Features pulling into an annoyed frowned, Yami pulled on her arms a little more forcefully in a futile attempt to persuade her that releasing him was a good idea.

"I would ask that you release me," he said.

And again the child laughed, this time turning her head and pressing her cheek firmly against Yami's stomach. He shifted his weight against the embrace, not exactly comfortable with the feel of the girl's hands and rough bandage pressed against his skin. After a few more feeble attempts to get her to let go, Yami resigned himself to the child's hug, acknowledging that once a child took hold of you there was very little you could do about it other than wait them out. He sighed wistfully while he tilted his head back, dropped his arms to his sides, and settled in for the long haul.

"... twenty. Bye!"

And with that, the child disengaged herself from Yami and took off down the sidewalk, pausing only to turn around and say "You are cute!" before running home.

Yami concluded that this was going to be the most interesting moment of his day.

Casually Yami reached behind himself to rub the area of his back where the girl's bandage had scratched his skin, the irritation registering as nothing more than a nuisance as he continued his daily stroll down the street. He took a deep breath and sighed, the sudden tightness in his chest ignored as he focused instead on the warmth of the sun and the cooling breeze on his face.

For Yami, walking was the best form of meditation. It provided his abundant energy a small outlet of release that appeared to smooth the edges of its demanding nature and allowed him a further few hours of control. To help with this he adhered to the same routine every day, walking the same route at eleven every morning for two hours, and always alone. Once or twice Yuugi had joined him on his walks, but these instances had been when Yuugi was under great emotional strain and Yami hadn't wanted to leave him alone. And though Yuugi appreciated this sentiment, the long walks really weren't to his liking, so he found his own quiet place while Yami was out.

Yami pulled at his shirt's collar as he approached the corner of the street, the light halting further passage. He had misjudged the heat of the day, it seemed, by wearing such a heavy garment, a fact he was increasingly aware of as people gathered closely around him, also waiting for the light to change. He squinted at the sun, trying to figure out why he was so hot on a day that was not unusually so under a sun that wasn't bright. Not finding his answers in the sky he turned his gaze to the small crowd that had formed around him, blaming his discomfort on them and their close proximity.

"Surely not all of these people can be at fault for your mood."

Yami snorted his lack of amusement at the comment and stepped out into the street with the rest of the crowd. He resolutely ignored the tall form that followed him out into the street, turning the corner and lengthening his stride in an effort to distance himself from the unwanted company. The man behind him stayed quiet for the length of the block before he felt compelled to speak again.

"You look a little pale. How are you feeling?" Seto asked.

"I'm fine."

Seto chuckled quietly at Yami's irritable tone. "Well now, if that isn't a dead giveaway-"

"Shut up." Yami had hoped that walking down this side of the street where the shadows of the buildings extended onto the sidewalk would help him cool down, but even this respite wasn't able to relieve the heat he felt on his skin. Actually, he was feeling hotter now, and the quickness of his pulse only served to spread the excess heat that much faster through his body. He raised a hand to his forehead, pushing his bangs aside, and was surprised when he felt sweat on his fingertips.

Seto noticed this action, his brow creasing in alertness when Yami suddenly stopped walking with the notice of sweat on his brow. He reached forward and put a steadying hand on Yami's shoulder when he momentarily lost his balance, his red eyes closing in anything but rest. Seto bit the inside of his lower lip nervously; steeling himself against the feel of Yami's curving shoulder as he tried to analyze his deteriorating function.

"Do you have a headache?"

"Mmhmm," Yami said distractedly. Seto's voice had echoed in his ears, making his words difficult to understand. Yami had answered merely out of reflex, his thoughts turned inward to the heaviness in his head. He did have a headache, a bad one, one that was a constant pain, like the tip of an ice pick being slowly and steadily driven into various points on the inside of his skull. He pressed two fingers pointedly against his temples and began walking again. He just wanted to distance himself from the pain. That's all he could think about right now.

Seto kept his hand on Yami's shoulder as the two of them walked down the sidewalk. From the uncertain steps Yami was taking he needed the support, despite his attempt to shrug the weight off of his shoulder. Seto kept his trained eyes on Yami's form, bringing himself closer to his companion so he could occasionally brush against him. Even though Yami was fully clothed, Seto still felt his warmth prickle through the fabric and into his skin every time they came in contact, no matter how brief the contact was.

While looking up to notice which street they were approaching Seto allowed his fingers the indulgence of sliding over the curve of Yami's shoulder and down his arm, lingering on the rounded muscle of his bicep as he pulled on his sleeve lightly to guide Yami around a corner. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips when Yami both moaned and grunted at the touch. It was one of the first touches he had seen Yuugi give Yami. Seto had noticed that it acted almost like disarmament, similar to how some spiders tapped their mates in order to subdue them into accepting further advances.

Seto's eyebrows rose knowingly when Yami parted his lips, his tongue not quite making it out of his mouth as he tried to wet them. He swallowed thickly when Yami swallowed. Tilted his head when Yami winced away from an arrant sun beam that had escaped between the buildings. Shortened his stride to match the rhythm of Yami's pace and flattened his hand more fully on his arm, letting his thumb rub soothingly along the fabric of his sleeve. He considered offering Yami a drink of water from the bottle he had in his coat's pocket, but his mind froze when Yami reached up and pulled at his collar again, exposing a part of his collar bone and a sample of what lay hidden further beneath. His breath hitched when Yami reached up with his free hand and touched the fingers around his arm.

Yami was confused, lost in the sudden onslaught of heat in his body and the increased effort it took to keep his thoughts level, even though his energy was waning. Just moments before, he knew that he was walking down the main street of the city. He knew he had been an hour and ten minutes into his walk. He knew that Seto had appeared unexpectedly and had begun trailing his movements. He had known all that only moments ago. But now, as he felt the hand on his arm coax him to a standstill and a body come intimately close against his back and a warm breath flow in and around his ear... All he knew now was that he was confused and uncertain and hesitant about how to make himself feel better.

"What do you want?" Seto asked, whispering into the soft hair just above Yami's ear. Yami tried to pull away from the warm sensation, whimpering unknowingly and frowning when he was unable to free himself. Seto shushed him quietly, bringing his free hand around to trail just along the edge of Yami's side, another move he had witnessed between Yuugi and Yami. He repeated his question, his voice dropping an octave as Yami shivered involuntarily at the soft, hot touches.

"... home..." Yami said, the word sounding almost painful in its quickness. Yes, he wanted to go home. At home, he wouldn't feel like this. Not like this. Home was safe. Home wasn't so unbearably hot and thick as... as wherever this was. God, he didn't even know where he was anymore.

"You want to go home?"

His breath was released harshly as the words invaded his mind. He felt them push his will aside and take charge of his thoughts, and they sounded awfully good and correct and everything that they shouldn't. Yami nodded wearily. "... wanna... want to..."

"Go home?"

"... yes."

"Alright then," Seto said as he gently maneuvered Yami into his car, which he had been guiding them towards. "I'll take you home." Yami didn't resist him, his mind too torn between the heat and his war with himself over who it was that was helping him. Once Seto had Yami settled into the passenger's seat and himself secured behind the wheel, he took a moment to sit back and look at the exquisite man beside him.

There was no questioning just how breathtaking Yami was, with his hair flared against the passenger window and his skin flushed and glistening with small beads of sweat and his breath at an intoxicating, erratic pace. Seto touched his own lips absently, fighting to keep his hands to himself as Yami shifted in his seat and hummed deep in his throat. Just that brief moment when Yami had reached up and taken his hand had been incredible. It had been the most intense, most stimulating sensation he could ever remember experiencing. All his efforts had been justified in that blissful moment of stillness. He had experienced something similar with Yuugi, only this time, his reaction had not been one of surprise and fear.

It had been one of pure jubilation.

Seto quickly started his car and pulled away from the curb. He glanced over at Yami on occasion when he would make a small sound at the car's movement. It wasn't long before Yami surrendered to keeping his eyes firmly shut against the rushing blur of color and images out his window that made him dizzy and sick to his stomach.

At a stoplight not too far from home, Seto hesitantly reached out his hand, holding it over Yami's for a moment before reaching down and firmly grasping Yami's hand. He mentally cheered when the hand reflexively closed around his own, even if it was only for a brief moment. It was long enough to satisfy him for the duration of the car ride.

Yami reached out for the handle in the door when the car had been stationary for a long while. He was vaguely aware he was in a car, momentarily confident when he heard Seto unfasten his seatbelt and open his door. But he lost all sense of orientation when he was pulled from the car and spun, Seto laying his arm supportively around Yami's hips as he guided him towards the front door. Yami's head lulled against Seto's shoulder, eventually turning purposely into it as Yami made a final effort to hide from his infliction.

Seto strengthened his grip on Yami's hips as the beautiful man in his grasp turned into him when he stumbled, looking for a more secure footing. Taking on more of his weight so they could move more quickly, Seto hurriedly made his way through the front doors, doing his best to remove himself from view as quickly as possible. There were always people watching in his house. The surveillance was nearly as strict as it was at the company. He was so concerned with concealing his actions and the wondrous sensations flooding his body that he almost missed the soft question directed his way.

"Is Yami okay, Onii-san?"

Seto found it within himself to stop and turn towards his brother's voice, his arms falling desperately around Yami, who only struggled lightly in response to the embrace. He blinked once before setting his features.

"He'll be fine, Mokuba," Seto said. "It's just a little heat stroke." Those were the only words he offered as he turned and continued his trek through his house, clinging to Yami as though he were a priceless possession.

Mokuba watched after them before shoving his hands into his pant's pockets, hesitating at the front door only long enough to look over his shoulder and towards Seto's room before closing the door softly behind him. The openness of the outside world was far more inviting right now than the constriction in the home behind him.

to be continued...