Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ When I Come Home ❯ Opening -- Finale ( Chapter 1 )

I was depressed at the lack of Yami/Seto Seto/Yami fics so I decided to make the small contribution of a one-shot. Here goes…   When I Come Home By RWThunder Opening -- Finale             & nbsp; I closed my laptop at the very same time that the clock struck eleven. My office was just as quiet as it had been when I arrived at seven o’clock in the morning, only now somehow the silence was more evident—insistent, even.             The fact that the building was now empty could have something to do with it, except I was never aware of the existence of my workers anyway. Unless I had a meeting, I remained alone and undisturbed. My good money had gifted me with amazing sound-proofing throughout the building, effectively shutting me out from the rest of the company—just like I wanted.  I wasn’t a social person—anyone could tell you that. If it were at all possible, I would replace every one of my workers with robots. I was good machines—I was not good with people. Robots wouldn’t pester, or gossip, stammer when I spoke to them or conspire in secret to rip the company out from under me.             I leaned back in my chair, stretching for the first time that day. Life was against me. I was cold and jaded, to name a few traits, and these feelings made me despise having to be around other people. At work, I was in some ways safe—cut off as I was throughout the day. And yet while I was at Kaiba Corp I was unable to be close to the only people who meant anything to me.             I hurriedly placed my laptop in my briefcase along with a folder, some loose papers, my deck, my cell phone, and my gun. Somehow picking up the weapon filled me with shame and remorse. It shouldn’t have to be this way. Those words echoed through my mind every time I had to brush off the paparazzi, have someone thrown out of my office or my home, and especially when the two people who actually cared for me had to hide in my mansion all day and all night because of it.             I walked briskly to the door of my office and pulled out my keys, locking the door behind me as I did every night. There was nothing important in that office, not really--everything that any thief or spy would be attracted to was stored on my laptop, which never left my sight. I always brought my work home with me.             Darkness veiled the hallways but I wasn’t nervous. There were security guards working around the clock monitoring every surveillance camera in the building—about fifty of which probably had me on screen at the moment. I didn’t even need that.             I knew how to defend myself, as any CEO—make that any person—should know how to do. That, and as uneasy as I was to say it, I was armed and perfectly capable. I shivered. I shouldn’t have to remind myself. I got into the elevator and instantly felt better.             Suddenly I remembered that Yami hadn’t called me. At my unspoken request, he didn’t call often. I was accustomed to receiving at least one call from either him or Mokuba, however, and its absence made me slightly nervous.             During the day I didn’t think about them. Work was work. But that one phone call reminded me that they were thinking about me—missing me. For those brief moments, I was able to indulge myself and complain about work, talk a little about my current projects, and catch a glimpse of what daily life for them was like without me.             But there was no rule—they didn’t have to call. I can honestly say I never expect them to, but today was the first day that they hadn’t. The knowledge of this pushed down on my mind and had me taking out my cell phone. I dialed ‘home.’          & nbsp;  It rang and rang and until suddenly there was unexpected silence. The elevator door opened. No one had picked up. I exited the building, nodding to the security guard at the front door and stepped out onto the side walk, which was still speckled with people.             My limo was waiting for me, a familiar and comforting sight. I got inside and greeted Isono before putting up the privacy wall that would separate us for the remainder of the drive. Concealed once again, I exhaled heavily and shut my eyes. Everything was fine. I would know by now if anything had happened. I would know.             I silently willed Isono to drive faster, to burn tire marks into the road itself and fly through the city without stopping once. At every pause in our journey, every red light or slow turn I felt myself become increasingly more agitated.             ; I shook my head. Now I was angry at Isono, and for no good reason. He was a good, careful driver—yet also very efficient. I would not have chosen him if not for that. I folded my hands in my lap. Misgivings, second guesses—where was the real Seto Kaiba?             I gazed out the window at the throngs of people crowding the streets. The prescience of the tinted glass served to lighten my mood as I continued to stare out at the world, unnoticed. Yet still, the worrier in me had been stimulated and I had no patience for life outside of my own purposes.             ; I had to get home, had to see Yami sitting on the couch by the front door with Mokuba’s head in his lap. He’d be tired as any normal human being would be, and my brother would be sound asleep. I had only to witness this image in reality and my fears would be put to rest.             As we were suddenly caught up in unexpected traffic, I attempted to calm myself another way. I would go into the house to find my family playing video games, or maybe watching TV. After putting Mokuba to bed, Yami would guiltily apologize for keeping him up so late and I’d have the pleasure of assuring him that it didn’t matter—preferably with a kiss, maybe more.             No, it would always be more. The instant our skin touched, I would try to set a limit for myself—a long, boring list of do’s and don’ts. These hastily set rules would then be shamelessly broken, one by one, giving me the satisfaction that I could break them all with Yami.             The limo was now coming to the end of its journey. We circled up the hill to my mansion, mostly dark now, as was appropriate for the hour. I found myself shifting in my seat as the vehicle slowed and finally came to a stop in front of the double doors.             I opened and shut the door so quickly that I hardly remember initiating the action. Before I knew it, I was inside, facing the large, curved flight of stairs leading to the second floor and the numerous hallways branching off from the foyer. The couch was empty.             I dropped my briefcase with a thud that reverberated around the large room. My feet came to a stop outside of the TV room, empty as well. I caught my bearings again inside the kitchen, also silent and uninhabited.           &n bsp; It was after I found the den, the grand hall, and the sitting room in the same condition that I ran upstairs.             ; The first room I came to was Mokuba’s. I stopped just outside, breathing heavily, my heart pounding so hard I thought I would faint. My hand was shaking as I gripped the knob and pulled the door open.             Light from the hallway spilled onto the peaceful face of my younger brother, who was blessedly unharmed and sleeping soundly. Leaving the door open, I walked quietly to his bed and sat beside him, absently turning off his alarm. It was Friday, after all.             Every gentle intake and exhale of his breath gave me such peace as I have never known. In that room, everything was as it should be. I wondered how late he had been up, what he’d eaten for dinner, how much homework he had over the weekend. His innocent features answered none of these questions, but I felt at rest watching him sleep.             I stood and walked to the door, squinting slightly as my eyes readjusted to the harsh light. Once I closed the door of Mokuba’s room, I sighed. Everything was fine. I wearily made my way towards my bedroom, berating myself as I did.             I was foolish to let myself become so upset, to let my emotions take hold. Worry, anger, passion…it wore away at a person, it was unhealthy. After all, why should I be concerned? What could happen to my lover or my brother while they were in this house?             Suddenly, it occurred to me that the world of irony would have my head for those thoughts. For all I knew, Yami could be lying in a pool of his own blood on my very bed, raped and otherwise mutilated—emotionally and physically battered, never to be whole again.             I was running before I even fully processed the possibility.           &n bsp; As the walls, doors, and unnamed paintings left over from my step-father’s regime flew past, my only thought was Yami. Yami, who had waited thousands of years to find me again only to encounter a very different person from the one he loved and remembered.           &nb sp; I hated myself for not being like Seth. With the help of Isis, I had recovered a few memories from Egypt’s golden age, my previous life as High Priest, and my unlikely relationship the surprisingly seductive pharaoh, Atemu.             These memories and feelings had been familiar to me, but the fact remained that Seth was dead. The soul that had given his body life had traveled into mine and created a different person entirely. I was not the man that Yami loved, not really. Yami loved Seth, and the more I attempted to change myself to be more like him, the more impossible it became to do so.             Finally, I reached my room and yanked the door open. The shower was running. Shaking my head, I took off my coat and shoes before closing the door and falling onto the bed with a groan.             I lay on my back, staring at the door to the private bathroom and listening to the running water. Exhaustion and fatigue, which had both been pushed roughly out of body and mind by panic returned full force, causing my eyes to slide shut unwillingly.           &n bsp; At least he was safe. They were both safe. The grueling work of the day combined with my fierce bout of stress suddenly manifested themselves in the form of a headache and I massaged my temples. If I had to be away from them so often, had to let them down time again, at least I could protect them. I silently prayed that this was enough.             The shower stopped and all other sounds were obscured by the fan, which was still running. At one point I thought I could hear the sink being turned on, but a part of me was sure I was just imagining it.             “Hurry up, Yami…” I whispered out loud, the sound of my own voice shocking me with its meekness and lack of confidence. It had been a bad day.             Suddenly the door opened and amidst the clouds of steam, Yami appeared wearing loose, black, cotton pants. He closed the door behind him before locking eyes with me and smiling.             “You’re home.” He said. This simple statement, combined with the warm, grateful look in his eyes was enough to make me forget my previous fear.             “I’m home.” I confirmed from where I lay on the bed, doing my best to flash him my usual smirk. He pushed his blonde locks out of his face and behind his ears, giving his head a gentle shake as it to banish the drops of water therein.             “I’ve been waiting.” He smiled as he said it and walked across the room to the bed. He crawled over the sheets until he was poised above me and suddenly narrowed his eyes.             “What’s wrong?” He asked gently, brushing two fingers lightly over my cheek. I shook my head.             “It’s nothing, just a headache.” The corner of my mouth twitched upward as I watched a small frown descend on his striking features.             ; “The last time that you had a headache was when Mokuba decided to ask you about the questions he had from health class. The time before that, I had just informed you that Yugi wanted to have a ‘chat’ about our relationship. The first time I remember you having a headache was when you were trying to work up the courage to ask me out, and then to move in with you. What’s happened, Seto?” I laughed.             “Trust you to remember, babe.” I said, smiling. Yami scowled to show that he wouldn’t be brushed off, and I sighed. “All right. I was concerned about you and Mokuba, you didn’t call today.” Yami’s eyes widened.             “Oh, Seto—I didn’t know…I’m sorry, I know you don’t like being disturbed. wi ir nn sxA…I didn’t think…” He trailed off. The fact that Yami was distressed enough to have slipped back into Egyptian humbled me.             “No, really, it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re alright.” I shrugged, slightly embarrassed by my sensitivity. Yami gracefully lowered himself down until he lay flush on top of me and relaxed, his head resting on my shoulder.             ; “You should be more worried about yourself, Seto,” he said, turning his head to the side to make talking easier. “It’s only been a week since you told the media you were gay.”           &nb sp; “More importantly, it’s been a week since you moved in with me—and I didn’t tell the media, my executives did.” I said dryly.             “You knew they’d tell people, Seto.” Yami replied, playing with the buttons of my shirt.             “Of course. They were ecstatic when I said I was gay—it gave them more material with which to usurp me.” I grinned at this. Yami’s hands found the collar of my shirt and he sat up, straddling my waist.             “Except they won’t. They can’t. No one could ever defeat my dragon.” I found it hard to determine how serious he was being. Either way, I appreciated the comment.             “Did you visit Yugi today?” I asked, changing the subject. He smiled fully and nodded, releasing my shirt collar.             “He came over for awhile and had lunch with Mokuba and I.” I nodded. “He says to call him first the next time you plan on abandoning me over the weekend.” His eyes sparkled with mirth. I on the other hand, felt a sharp stab of guilt.             The weekend before, just a day after helping Yami move in with me, I had been called away to a conference in Tokyo and hadn’t returned until late Sunday night. From then on, I had left his warm embrace every morning at six o’clock precisely and returned at eleven to be greeted sleepily by both him and my brother.             Needless to say, the two of us hadn’t had a lot of opportunity to celebrate our union. Today, however, was Friday—and Yami didn’t look very tired.             “No need. Tell him it will never happen again.” I said. Yami leaned down close to my face and began undoing the buttons of my shirt.             “Promise me?” He whispered. I shivered in excitement.           &nb sp; “I promise.” I slid my hands into his hair and pulled him closer until our lips touched. His hands froze for a moment and he was still as I lazily dragged my tongue over his bottom lip. Then with a possessive growl, he parted my lips with his own tongue, ripping my shirt open in the same instant. I was only slightly aware of the sound of the last of the buttons hitting the floor.             My skin had been flushed from panic, but now the nerves felt as though they were on fire as Yami ghosted his hands over my chest. I responded heatedly into our kiss, letting my eyes slide slowly shut and gently massaging his scalp through his damp hair.             As my tongue boldly stroked his, Yami responded by grinding his hips into mine—hard. I gasped and broke the kiss, my hands sliding out of his hair and down his back, pressing urgently.             ; By now his own skin was aflame and he rocked his hips forward again with frightening expertise, forcing a moan to escape my lips. Suddenly all too aware of how aroused the two of us were becoming, I caught my breath and brought my hands up to cup his cheeks, pulling him down again until our foreheads were pressed together.             ; “I’ve been…so afraid…this whole week…that something would…happen to you.” I managed to rasp out. “You…will never know…how much…I’ve wanted this.”    “Shh…” Yami placed a single finger over my lips and kissed my forehead. “I know you don’t think so, but I feel the same way.” He whispered. Then, he sat back, still straddling my hips.             “Five thousand years is a long time not to be touched, Seto.” He said this quietly, not meeting my eyes, which widened in understanding. It couldn’t have been more than a month or two since Yami had split from his hikari and gained his own body.             I opened my arms to him, and Yami placed himself in my embrace, burrowing his head into my neck. I rolled onto my side and pulled him closer, savoring the dampness of his hair and the smell of his shampoo.             “We’ve both been waiting for this since last week, Seto.” Yami continued, pulling back slightly to look at me with clouded eyes. “But I’ve waited centuries just to find someone like you. Now, after this week, I’ve run out of patience.” His hand drifted down to my groin but I caught it in my own.             “Yami, I’m not him. I’m sorry I can’t be.” I said firmly. Yami gave me a hard look.             “What are you talking about?” He blinked in confusion.           &nbs p; “Seth, I’m not Seth.” I tried not to spit the name. Yami’s hand trembled in mine.             “Seto…Seto of course you’re not Seth, you’re not anything like him…” He said, frowning.             ; “I know, I’m sorry.” I said again.             “Why should you be sorry?” He demanded. I found that my throat had closed and I could not answer. Instead I looked away. The day had been too much and now I just couldn’t take it anymore. Simple everyday annoyances had built up to my brief panic attack and now this. After a moment I heard Yami begin to speak. “ntT iw biAw mrwt. ntT iw biAw HAty. ntT iw biAw nTr.” The Egyptian rolled off of his tongue beautifully and I lost myself in the sound. It reminded me of the past, of sand and sun and the smell of incense—of his smell when he was mine. “I know you remember what that means, Seto.” Yami said, his old accent now slightly more evident after speaking the language twice already. I nodded. In truth, I remembered a good number of things from our alternate life in ancient Egypt—thanks to Isis. I even possessed the haunting memory of Atemu’s coronation, a memory I wondered if even Yami had unlocked. “You are my love. You are my heart. You are my god.” I recited, amazed at the calming effect they had on me. Yami brushed his lips briefly against mine. “Exactly. You are not Seth, yet you are all of those things. Those things, to me, make you Seto.” It was amazing how with such common, simple things as words, the terrible pain that had been aching inside ever since I fell in love with Yami was suddenly…gone. “Seth is dead. We are alive Seto, show me what it means to be alive, to be loved, to be touched…iw dbH ntT…please.” I didn’t need any further convincing. As Yami’s lips found mine, I rolled on top of him, pinning him beneath me. It felt good, it felt right, and I couldn’t believe either of us had survived without the feeling. I kissed him fiercely, pouring every ounce of gratitude and relief into the effort. “Anything…” I gasped as his hand traveled down my chest and stomach. “I’d give you anything…do…anything…for you.” I was forced to discontinue my pledge as his hand brushed over my groin, sending sparks through my body. Unable to keep up with our passionate kiss under his ministrations, I moved my mouth to his neck and nibbled gently on the soft skin. I then grazed my teeth over the shell of his year, smiling when he gasped. “I haven’t forgotten that, either.” I whispered. As I returned to his neck, leaving marks of claim with my starved lips, I began to slide the cotton pants down his hips. My hands were trembling as the warm skin of his lower torso offered itself to my fingers, forbidden, enticing, and mine—all mine. His hands fell limply at his sides as I discarded the article of clothing and let my eyes drink their fill. Other memories surfaced at the arousing sight but I suppressed them. “There is only now. Only us.” I murmured, more to myself than to him, but Yami nodded in understanding.  I leaned down and licked a slow circle onto his inner thigh, acknowledging the soft moan that he allowed me to hear. Me and only me. I repeated the motion on the other thigh and exhaled softly, watching as Goosebumps made their way up his leg. I repeated the torture again, then again, all the while moving teasingly up his thigh. I looked up at him and nearly lost myself. He was right, five thousand years was a hell of a long time to be without physical human contact—and the sensations were doing a number on Yami, who was being more vocal then I could have imagined. It was thrilling. I leaned forward and had only just run my tongue over his length when I felt his hands fist themselves in my hair and his body tense. I knew those signs—I pulled back and moved up to where he lay gazing at me, flushed and out of breath. “What is it?” I asked, searching his eyes for the answer. He considered me from under his dark lashes and smiled. “You read me so well.” His hands came down to rest on my shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles there. “I have a request.” I raised my eyebrows in interest. “Oh yes?” “While I have no doubt that we would both benefit from a session of long, drawn-out foreplay, I doubt either of us would last very long. You’ve been working, I’ve been pining, so please—just take me now, I’m ready.” He said softly, placing one of my hands over his heart. We lay still, resting comfortably on the black, satin sheets and enjoying each other. I relished the moment before a strange fit of mischief overtook me. I cocked my head to the side and gave him a questioning look. “But my lord, would that be quite appropriate? It would seem that we would be committing a terrible sin.” I had to focus intensely on my facial features to keep from cracking at the look on his face. Angular crimson orbs went wide with shock which then faded to reproach as he searched my face for a joking smile. Then suddenly he grinned up at me and his hand found the buckle of my belt. “I am pharaoh; I’ll do what I want. And you—you will do as I say.” He said, leaning up until our lips were millimeters apart. I could feel myself perspiring already at the closeness. “Do you not fear the wrath of the gods, my pharaoh?” I questioned, not sure how long I could keep up with the charade, knowing that my heart and body would eventually betray me. Yami nipped gently at my bottom lip. “My dear Seto, need I remind you that I am a god?” I gasped when I felt his fingers close around me, realizing that my belt was now on the floor with my buttons. “Now take me—I command you.” That did it. I could not have played the joker any longer if I wanted to—but I didn’t want that. I wanted him. I sat back and my pants joined the various articles of clothing already decorating the floor. “As you wish.” I managed through my constricted throat. I felt him move beneath me, shifting into a better position and proceeding to place his hands on my shoulders once more, bracing himself. We were so close. I could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body as we lay there. I knew I should have more restraint. I knew that I should have insisted that he at least allow me to prepare me. But then I was entering into a heavenly world of pleasure in which there was no regret and I was gone. Luckily, some part of my mind remembered that I had to be gentle, so I moved slowly, painfully slow. It wasn’t slow enough. Yami bit back a whimper, but I heard it. Not that I needed to—his fingernails were already drawing blood from my shoulders. I forced myself to stop, gasping at the sensations and the effort of controlling my passion. We were both breathing heavily. “Yami…?” I whispered, brushing his hair out of his face, which was strained in discomfort. He didn’t answer. “You’re in pain.” I started to pull away when his nails plunged even deeper into my skin and I hissed at the feeling. “No…Seto, don’t stop.” Came the choked reply. I saw that his eyes were squeezed shut, almost concealing the glittering tears that adorned his lashes. At the sight of this powerful display of emotion, I would surely have put a halt to our activities if not for the need in his voice—the pleading. As if to encourage me, his hands loosened their grip on my shoulders and I felt his body sink deeper into the sea of black satin—he was relaxed. The creases in Yami’s face had all but disappeared when suddenly he lifted his hips, taking me all the way in. “Oh Gods…” I fisted my hands in the sheets to keep from moving as he adjusted. They tore in my grip. It was absurd, I’d never felt so staggeringly close to anyone before—not like this. Before this night, the world and everyone in it had been closed to me. My existence had been a cold, hollow one. Now the only person I’d ever dared to dream of being with was…I shivered. Somehow, the one person I knew I could ever love had wound up here, with me. I felt urgency, stress, eagerness…I wanted to make him mine before another second of time drove us towards the end. To distract myself, I studied Yami’s face intently. He had been biting his lip to keep from crying out and there was blood. I felt ashamed then, mortified that I had gained pleasure at the cost of his pain. Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open and fiery crimson met icy cobalt. He stared up at me with an expression that presented a cornucopia of emotion. We were silent. Then, a seductive smile graced his exotic features and his arms wrapped themselves around my neck. “I believe I gave you an order.” He prompted. For a split second, I was frozen. “What’s the matter, Seto? Must I repeat mysel—Ra almighty…!” I didn’t need to answer, instead I moved. I went slowly at first, driving myself deeper until I found that cluster of nerves that had him whispering my name over and over like a desperate prayer. “m wHm-a As…!” He moaned softly. I was only too happy to comply and increased my speed. I couldn’t stand it, it was the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced. I could feel myself sweating, and I knew that he was too; a paler kind of blood that meant just as much when mixed with another person’s. “Hna pHty!” he begged, gasping now and bringing his hips up to meet mine with every thrust. I was close, and his blissful cries were doing nothing to calm me. I was no longer being careful, my actions were rough and driven—and they were sending us both into that whispered realm known only as ecstasy. Now we were both close—I could tell. Yami writhed beneath me, eyes half-lidded in unspeakable pleasure. I knew that look. Gathering the last of my strength, I carried us on toward the end. “ntT iw biAw mrwt…” Yami gasped out. I took in the words, letting them wrap themselves around my mind until I was sure I would never forget the sound of him speaking them. “You are my heart.” I repeated through gritted teeth. “ntT…ntT iw biAw HAty” His eyes locked with mine, promising the truth of the statement. “You are my…my love.” I was dying, slowly dying in the most perfect way—and Yami was dying with me. “ntT iw biAw nTr…ntT biAw nTr, SETO!” He screamed my name for the world to hear and I felt him close around me. He fell back against the sheets and I knew it was over. “You are my god…you…are…my…only god, YAMI!” My body shuddered with a powerful release and I collapsed, only dimly aware that we were breathing in time. The vast planes of awareness seemed to shrink around me so that all could feel was his skin and his sweat, still mixing with mine—it was all I needed to feel. I pulled out and rolled onto my side, summoning my remaining energy to draw Yami into my arms and hold him. We were silent then, not needing words to define our emotion. Then, Yami leaned up and kissed me. I didn’t think as I blindly kissed him back—somehow I didn’t need think about how to kiss him, I just knew. Suddenly, Yami shivered and I pulled back. “Cold?” I asked breathlessly. “My real body has a horrible tolerance for northern weather, love. After all, I am Egyptian.” The former pharaoh smiled and I wordlessly pulled the blankets over us. Yami snuggled closer to my chest and I kissed his forehead before switching off the light beside my bed. “You’re mine.” I whispered into the darkness, running my fingers through his hair—which was still slightly damp. “And you are mine.” Yami replied. This time I kissed him—hard. Then a thought occurred to me. “Yami, you know that I go to work in the morning on Saturdays.” I began. His face fell. “I had forgotten…” He was unable to mask the disappointment in his voice. “Well, tomorrow I’m not. I’m staying here, with you.” I said, grinning. “S-Seto, what will you tell your secretary?” Yami stammered, gazing at me in wonder. “I’ll tell her that I got laid last night and I need to say home to look after biAw pr-aA.” Yami laughed and buried his face in my chest. “Sounds good—your accent I mean.” He said, chuckling. “Thank you. I’ll call in the morning.” I said this with relish, knowing that it would be the first time in history that Seto Kaiba skipped work for anyone.   --   The Egyptian in the story is perfectly authentic—the website I used to translate the phrases from English is http://hieroglyphs.net/000501/html/000-016.html. Translations: biAw pr-aA = My pharaoh m wHm-a As = Again, quickly (Faster) Hna pHty = With strength (Harder) ntT iw biAw mrwt. = You are my heart ntT iw biAw HAty = You are my love ntT iw biAw nTr = You are my god iw dbH ntT = I beg you (Please) wi ir nn sxA = I did not remember (I forgot) I hope you enjoyed the story! If you are a fellow writer of Seto/Yami Yami/Seto, please let me know—I feel like I’m one of the only ones!             &n bsp;             &nb sp;