Chapter Text
“Atem!” Yugi calls. “Are you leaving? ”
Atem freezes halfway out the door, looking back to see a distinctly unimpressed Yugi wearing most of his party outfit but with the bowtie undone and no jewellery yet.
“I texted you!” Atem defends himself. “I’m going to meet Seto at the office and go with him. I’ll see you there.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Yugi protests, crossing the game shop to kiss Atem’s cheek and poke him unnecessarily hard in the stomach. “You’re going to be late to the party if you do that!”
“Fashionably late,” Atem grins, returning the kiss but not the poke. “Don’t worry!”
He gives Yugi a thumbs up as he heads out to the KaibaCorp--
~
--office building is in a constant state of controlled chaos, and Seto has never felt so alive as when he stands in his own office in his own company building with thousands of tasks being carried out around him. He’s driving towards his own goals now.
“The cleanup of the mansion site is expected to be finished by the end of this coming week, Mr Kaiba,” his secretary tells him as his hands fly across his keyboard, finishing off a few of those thousand tasks before it’s time to go. “The preliminary land survey was favourable and a date has been set for next month for the hearing to progress the rezoning application. We could be breaking ground on construction within six weeks, with luck.”
“Luck is for idiots,” Seto says, turning off his computer and straightening up. “We’ve already been stalled on this project for six months longer than we should have been. I won’t tolerate any further delays. I want a mock land survey from our own experts carried out on Monday, and I want legal to run full background checks on anyone scheduled for rezoning hearings in the next two months.”
“Any of the scheduled judges, you mean?” she asks.
“No.” He shrugs off his suit jacket and switches it for a long, billowing sleeveless coat instead. “I mean anyone. A judge isn’t the only one who could stop it. Never underestimate the technical and administrative staff.”
“Of course, Mr Kaiba,” she answers, clearly hiding a smile, and then touches her earpiece. “Ah, Mr Khalfani is here, sir.”
“Send him--”
But Atem is already coming through the office door.
“I told you to stop breaching security,” Seto snaps. His secretary tactically vanishes out through the door Atem left open. “You’re a nightmare.”
“I think you’ll find I’m the star games designer this company just signed a very mutually beneficial deal with, and it’s very nice to see you too,” Atem answers mildly, grabbing Seto’s tie and--
~
--kissing Seto is something Atem will never get used to. It’s bright and bruising and beautiful. Kisses are sparks, glorious all by themselves and capable of starting a blaze under the right conditions...
Seto turns them around and slams Atem back against the floor-to-ceiling windows, his big hands pinning him there by the shoulders as they deepen the kiss.
Hmm. This is why Yugi was giving him that look. They’re going to be more than fashionably late if they keep this up.
Atem manages to break the kiss long enough to gasp, “Seto!”
“What.”
Seto goes to kiss him again but Atem puts his fingers to Seto’s lips and stops him.
“We have to go.”
“We can be fashionably late,” Seto argues.
“We already are fashionably late,” Atem laughs. “I keep telling you, it’s not more dramatic the later you are.”
“It clearly is.”
“And anyway, aren’t you the one who bragged about Isis’s timing and punctuality? Surely we should be particularly aware of our own, given it’s her event?”
“Why would I brag about that?”
But he lets Atem go and the two of them head for the door together.
“I don’t know why, you were going on about how it was more than just punctuality, you said if you didn’t know better than to give any kind of credence to the supernatural you might almost have said--”
“I don’t mean why would I brag about her punctuality specifically, I mean why would I brag about her anything? Me talking about her punctuality can’t be a brag, I have no influence or control over it, therefore I couldn’t take any credit for it, therefore it can’t be bragging.”
“It was definitely a brag,” Atem laughs. “You were bragging about how cool your friend was.”
“She’s not my--”
~
--friend is still a loaded term for Seto, one of many. Love. Cooperation. Homosexuality. All the -sexualities, actually. But he’s recognised where that comes from. He shakes his head, and opens the car.
“Fine, she’s my friend, and her punctuality is near-preternatural,” he concedes. “Get in.”
Atem does, with a victorious grin that Seto wants to slap or kiss off his face. But just because he’d enjoy it. Losing to Atem doesn’t hurt.
“And she is cool,” Atem says, as they drive out of the office carpark, heading for the cultural quarter. “Pulling off something like this, in less than a year? It’s incredibly impressive. You two are clearly cut from the same cloth.”
“Hmph.” It’s a challenge to keep himself from smiling. Atem is always a challenge.
“I mean it,” Atem insists, his deep garnet eyes sparkling. “Both of you have achieved so much since you quit the police force. It’s inspiring.”
“I’m not finished yet.”
“Of course you’re not.” Atem smiles. “But you can be proud of a work in progress.”
Seto considers that absolutely alien idea as he pulls up in front of--
~
--Domino City Museum has become a place of sanctuary for Atem, over the past year, since he gained his freedom and his name, and shortly afterwards, his inheritance and his life back. Or more specifically, since Isis began working there, mere days after Gozaburo’s trial. She’d filed her resignation the same day as Seto, and managed to talk her way back into the junior curator job she’d quit to join the police force, trying to do right by Malik.
Atem takes Seto’s hand now as they climb the broad stairs to the museum entrance. It’s dark out, a mild autumn evening, but the museum is brightly lit, light spilling from the long windows and the open front doors.
Grand Opening, a banner proclaims, Mysteries of Egypt.
The gala opening is in full swing, in the main hall of the museum, and their arrival causes a stir, not least because Mai -- in a killer cocktail dress with her hair loose -- yells across the hall as soon as they appear.
“WELL LOOK WHO’S FASHIONABLY LATE!”
Seto scowls, and Atem laughs and blushes. Cameras flash. The ex-Mayor’s ex-cop ex-son made headlines during and after the trial, and Atem himself was a major donor and honorary Cultural Outreach Ambassador for this exhibition. They’re the celebrity couple -- and Domino’s first high-profile same-sex couple -- and the handful of reporters attending all want a photo and a quote.
Isis herself appears, with her usual impeccable timing, just in time to be included in a few photos but not to get bogged down in the quotes.
“It’s good to see you both,” she says, leading them towards the back of the hall, gesturing for them to take a glass of champagne as a waiter passes with a tray. “There’s something I want to show you...”
Yugi and Anzu cross their path, Yugi throwing Atem a wink.
“I’ve got almost everyone, Isis,” he says as Anzu and Seto size one another up. “I thought Bakura would be the hardest to persuade, but Malik already took care of him. I’ll leave these two to you.”
“What’s that about?” Seto asks suspiciously, as Yugi and Anzu hurry back over to Jounouchi and the others.
Atem waves happily at the group and they wave exuberantly back.
“A celebratory dinner after the gala,” Isis says smoothly. “You’re both coming.”
“What if we have plans--” Seto starts, but Atem elbows him.
“You don’t,” Isis says smoothly and Atem bites his lip to stop himself laughing at the look on Seto’s face. “Here. This is what I wanted to show you.”
Atem looks up at the stone slab, taking it in, and gasps softly as he recognises it. A story, carved in images and written in--
~
--hieroglyphics were not on any of the accelerated business-friendly language classes Seto had taken as a boy, so he’s not sure what he’s supposed to get out of looking at this slab of limestone. There are two main figures depicted, one with a stick and one with a hat. Or a headdress, or a bizarre hairstyle, or something. The central image shows the two kneeling either side of a senet board.
Atem is talking to Isis, saying something about it being incredible, and Seto sips his champagne and lets his attention shift to the rest of the room, uninterested in some ancient relic.
“--it’s us!” Atem says, right as he tugs on Seto’s hand, yanking Seto’s attention back.
“What.”
“ Look, Seto!” Atem’s eyes are shining as he points up at the slab, and Seto looks without thinking about it. “The son of the Pharaoh, Prince Atem, and the son of a royal adviser, Seth. Seth was disowned by his father, but became a royal guard and rose to a high position on his own merits. And see? Seth became the confidant of Prince Atem. They were buried together.”
“Modern mainstream historians have proposed a few different explanations for a Prince bestowing such an honour on a self-made man,” Isis says with her knowing smile. “I personally think the explanation is very simple.”
Despite himself, Seto finds himself drifting back to look at the slab more than once, before the gala finishes and they head to--
~
--dinner is a rambunctious affair, their group absolutely filling the generous private dining room of the restaurant Isis chose. Isis and Kujaku hold court at one end of the big table, while Atem and Seto are given the place of honour at the other end.
“We sorted that stuff out with the permits, by the way, Pharaoh,” Mana says cheerfully, dropping into the seat beside Atem, Mahaad at her other side.
“No work talk!” Atem orders, pouring her drink, then Mahaad’s. “But you’re a magician, thank you.”
“We don’t need thanks,” Mana says, as the three of them clink their glasses. “We’re just so happy to have you back, and have a real Pharaoh at the head of the clan again.”
“You shadowy figures better not be planning your gang crimes at the dinner table,” Seto interrupts, his tone scathing but a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Atem retorts. “Not like you’re a cop anymore.”
“I’m not, but Kujaku is,” Seto argues, pointing across the length of the table.
“No I’m not!” Mai yells back. “I quit!”
“When?!” Seto looks like someone just slapped him lightly in the face; taken aback and maybe slightly offended. Atem can’t stop laughing.
“Like two months ago?!” Mai is definitely offended. “I launched my own couture perfumerie?! I also have dreams, you know! And a tragic backstory, not that anyone’s ever asked! I just didn’t bring my tragic backstory to work, unlike you and habibi!”
“Did you know about this?” Seto hisses at Atem, but Atem is laughing too hard to answer.
“Congratulations, Mai!” Mokuba cheers from Seto’s other side, raising his glass, and the table joins in. “And congratulations, Isis, on the exhibition!”
Things settle a little when the food is served. Atem takes a moment when no one’s talking directly to him to soak it in. Mana’s teasing Seto (something about a jetpack), and Mahaad is deep in conversation with Pegasus (something about grief and the Nile). Mokuba, on the other side of the table, is deep in a conversation with Ryou about tactics; apparently they’re in the same online gaming guild now? Rishid is promising to teach Anzu a grapple, Honda and Malik are showing one another photos of their motorbikes, Kujaku is joking around with Jounouchi, and Isis, Bakura, and Yugi are discussing the exhibition.
Atem slips his hand into Seto’s, and Seto glances to him with those bright, burning blue eyes.
“Your apartment or my house tonight?” Atem murmurs under his breath. Not that anyone’s listening; Mana’s been swept into the online gaming conversation now.
“It’s ridiculous to keep going back and forth,” Seto answers sharply. “It’s inconvenient.”
“Then move in,” Atem snaps back, challenging.
“Why don’t you move in with me? ”
“Because I spent seven fucking years committing crimes to get my name and my life and my very nice house back, asshole, and I want to live in it now!” Atem cries. “ Your horrible mansion burnt to the ground and will soon be an amusement park for kids. My mansion is lovely, and is the headquarters of my slightly extralegal community group which protects people the law doesn’t protect, and kicks drug smugglers out of the neighbourhood.”
“Whatever, having your so-called community group gang call you Pharaoh is still weird as hell, brat,” Seto says. “I’m only moving in if you let me install a proper home cinema, modern security system, and new coffee maker.”
“Deal.”
So Seto comes home with Atem. And they play a game of chess before the fire.