Dance of Knives


The whistle of air being parted as the slender knife slashed through it. A metallic clang as a nearly identical blade countered. One set with rubies, the other with sapphires.

Red eyes flashed as his blow was deflected, gaze met by equally bright blue.

Yami growled softly, withdrawing and backing off for a second. Seto lowered his own knife a bit and watched intently. Yami came at him again swift as lightning. The blade flashed wickedly as it came, Yami's free hand snatching at Seto's arm.

Seto deftly switched his knife from his right hand to his left and attacked at the same time. Yami's hand closed on his shoulder while his knife-point came up and stopped--against Seto's jugular vein.

Seto's own blade rested against the hollow of Yami's throat, the tip dimpling the skin in the groove of his collarbone, while his right arm snaked around his slim waist and pulled him up against his body, Yami's hand gripping his shoulder tightly, his arm under Kaiba's, the tip of the blade never leaving his neck.

They stood there, glaring and smiling at the same time. Seto broke the pause; with a quick flick of his wrist he cut a two-inch nick in Yami's collarbone. The smaller growled as he felt the sting and a crimson drop, matching his eyes, rolled down his pale skin to his navy top.

Seto smirked, then bared his teeth as he felt Yami draw his blade along his neck, opening a similar cut over his corded tendons. He tilted his knife away and Yami did the same. Then the brunette leaned forward, pulling Yami closer against him, and licked at the small cut, tasting the copper tang of Yami's blood.

The other turned his head and Seto felt his lips attach to his neck, a warm, wet tongue lapping up the beads of blood that had risen, then a quick, hard suction to draw out more. Seto snarled, squeezing Yami against him, crushing him hard enough to make him gasp and squirm to get free.

They broke apart at the same time, raising their knives. Seto slashed viciously, aiming for Yami's thigh, but the smaller dodged, his lithe body moving as gracefully as a dancer's as he spun as if to land a roundhouse kick, but sliced at Seto's mid-section. The taller felt a burning as his shirt tore and the knife opened a four-inch cut along his stomach, sending narrow rivulets of blood down his skin.

Yami's scarlet eyes glowed with excitement at the blooding, his smile wild and wicked. Seto smirked, then flicked his blade downward, opening an equally long slice along Yami's shoulder, almost tracing the strap of his shirt, sending cimson trickling his arm.

They stared at each other a moment, then grabbed each other, crushing their mouths together, kissing furiously, bruising each other's lips, tongues warring for dominance. They broke apart without deciding a winner, and Yami dropped gracefully to his knees, jerking Seto's shirt out of his pants, simply pressing his knife's flat against his hip as he gripped them rather than relinquish his hold on it. Seto held his own tightly in his hand, while the other went down to tangle in Yami's spiky hair.

Yami traced the wound in his stomach with his tongue, licking up the spilled blood and Seto snarled, his fingers tightening in Yami's hair. He let go and reached down, grabbing Yami's left arm and pulling him roughly to his feet, leaning down to claim his mouth again. His arm wrapped around Yami's waist, pulling him hard against him, while he maneuvered his knife hand and pressed the point lightly between Yami's shoulderblades, keeping him from moving back without sticking himself.

The spiky-haired duelist fought with his tongue, his teeth grazing Seto's bottom lip, the kiss bruising and rough. Seto felt Yami's own knife announce its presence as the cold metal pressed against his neck, the sharp edge digging into his skin without breaking it. If he moved an inch, the blade would slice open his neck.

Excitement coursed through him and he dragged the sharp point of his blade down Yami's spine, scratching along the fabric without tearing it, making the smaller arch a little, growling against his lips. With his free hand, Seto untucked Yami's shirt without removing his arm from around his waist. He pushed his hand under it, rubbing against the smooth skin of his hip, arm holding him steadily against his chest as he forced his tongue into Yami's mouth.

Yami's left hand pressed against his chest, thumb rubbing against him through the material of his black shirt. His knife stayed against Seto's neck, tongue pressing back against his. Seto tilted his knife so that the point was straight down, then broke the kiss, grinning evilly as he lowered the knife down the back of Yami's pants, knowing he was wearing no underwear as usual. Yami's eyes widened a little as he obviously felt the edge of the blade glide along the small of his back before it began to slide between his buttocks. Seto watched his expression, slowly sliding the knife down until the wing of the pommel caught on the waistband of his pants and he could go no further. From the lack of pain on Yami's face, he'd obviously succeeded in not cutting him. He grinned down at him as Yami's eyes narrowed.

His smaller partner reached up to grab his shoulder again while his knife hand moved. The point was titled downward and it was Seto's turn to freeze in place as Yami began to push the tip of his knife down the front of Seto's pants. The tip of the blade lightly touched his member and he growled warningly. Yami only smiled, then released the knife, letting gravity press it down further, the tip scritching down Seto's erection to press against the base. He stepped back out of Seto's embrace, reaching behind him to draw Seto's knife out of his pants. Seto took hold of Yami's knife and lifted it out, brandishing it at Yami as he raised his own.

Seto stepped forward, watching Yami's eyes, extending his knife arm until the blade rested against Yami's ribs. He jerked his arm back. Yami hissed as his own knife sliced into him. Then he moved as Seto had earlier and succeeded in slashing Seto's thigh.

As the sticky blood trickled down his leg, Seto grabbed Yami roughly and raised the knife to his throat, holding it there. Yami stared up at him with a fearless expression, defiant, and at the same time, trusting. Seto watched the eye appear on his forehead, the eye of the Puzzle glowing as well from where it and the Rod sat together nearby on the table. The Rod lit up as well and he felt the indescribable tugging as the Items began to show them visions of the past.


Atemu spun gracefully, his cape swirling around his body, scarlet eyes alight with excitement as he countered Seth's blade. The clang of metal on metal echoed in the space of his bedchamber and he laughed, pressing his sword against Seth's, leaning his weight into it. Seth retaliated, his exotic blue eyes wide and teeth bared in a wild grin. Their crossed swords began to shake as they each struggled to overpower the other.

Atemu leapt backwards, then slashed at Seth's ankle. Seth met his blade expertly, deflecting the blow before aiming for the Pharaoh's neck. Atemu brought his sword up just in time, so close that the flat of it rested against his own shoulder.

Seth stepped back, holding his sword up, watching Atemu intently. The other stared back, each glaring the other down while trying not to smile. Then Seth spun, his own blue cape rising up from the generated wind. Atemu dodged, but not quick enough. He gasped as the blade caught his cape, splitting it, causing it to fall off his left shoulder, across his chest, held up by the clasp around his throat. His foot came down on the lowered edge and he nearly tripped. Seth, his eyes flashing, went in for the kill. His sword clanged hard against Atemu's and the Pharaoh felt it fly from his hands, skidding across the stone floor all the way to the far wall.

The tip pressed against his chest as Seth held his blade up, grinning. "I win, my Pharaoh."

Atemu glared, then reached up, slowly drawing his Puzzle from around his neck with one hand, the other removing his winged Eye of Horus crown. He held his crown out. Seth tilted his blade enough to step forward, taking the crown with one hand before tossing it across the room to where it landed on Atemu's bed. Then he took the Puzzle. Atemu extended his arms, crossing his wrists. Seth smirked, wrapping the leather thong loosely around Atemu's wrists without actually binding him. Then the blade sliced through the air like a striking asp. Atemu didn't so much as flinch as it tore his skirt, splitting it with accurate tears on either side of the blue panel.

"On your knees."

Atemu knelt on one knee without protest. The High Priest had won this spar. His cape hung over his chest, while his split skirt parted, exposing his legs all the way to the upper thighs. Neither had been wearing tunics and the material of his cape whispered against his skin, making it tingle. Seth stepped around him and Atemu fought his instincts to turn.

The blade slid around as Seth stood behind him, and Atemu knew the position he had taken, as he himself had taken it many times before, almost ceremonial. Seth stood behind him with his own arms crossed at the wrists, his sword held in his right hand, turned inward so that the sharp edge of the blade rested against Atemu's throat. The Pharaoh tilted his head a little, exposing his neck to the sword, his hair falling across his right eye.

Seth was still a moment, then the blade jerked suddenly, making Atemu gasp as a thin cut drew itself across his neck, sending blood trickling down. The sword was removed; Atemu heard it clang against the floor before Seth seized him roughly, yanking him to his feet and spinning him around. Seth appraised his handiwork, then darted forward, tongue licking up the spilled crimson.

Atemu growled, letting his head fall back, eyes closing, hissing as Seth sucked on the wound, crushing Atemu up against him, heedless of the Puzzle and fists digging into his ribs. Atemu gave into him for a moment, then jerked back, unwrapping the Puzzle from around his wrists. He threw the leather thong around Seth's neck, then pulled on it, hauling him forward so he could kiss him, feeling the slick slide of a small smear of blood on Seth's bottom lip. He licked it up, before shoving his tongue into Seth's mouth. His High Priest snarled, fighting him, his hands on Atemu's biceps, digging in.

They broke for air, panting harshly and glaring at each other. Then Seth lifted Atemu up by his hold on his biceps, spinning him around to slam him roughly against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof, drawing a groan of pain from him. Seth attacked his neck again, sucking on the wound, licking it harshly. Atemu's feet hung off the floor and he was largely helpless, unable to hold onto anything but the thong of the Puzzle, arms pinned down.

Seth drew his head back, then claimed Atemu's mouth, letting him down to stand on the floor so he could push his hands under Atemu's tattered cape, rubbing along his naked chest and back. Atemu growled, one hand still gripping the thong of the Puzzle while his other hand dragged his nails over Seth's bare chest, pinching a nipple.

They parted again, then Atemu reached behind himself, pulling out the blade he had hidden in his belt. Seth was just as quick, pulling the Rod out of his own belt, splitting the halves to reveal the thin knife hidden within. They pressed their respective knives against each other's throats with exact motions. In this stand-off they grinned at each other, then Atemu jerked his knife downwards, opening a slanted wound in Seth's left pectoral, just above his nipple. As the blood ran down his stomach, Atemu relinquished his hold on the Puzzle to grab the wrist of Seth's knife hand, shoving it away from him so he could lean forward, licking up some of the blood that had spilled down Seth's skin, pulling the nipple into his mouth and sucking. Seth rumbled low in his throat, each of his hands occupied by a half of the Rod, so he couldn't grab Atemu back.

Atemu pulled his mouth away to wrap his knife arm around Seth's neck, pulling him down to kiss him, the knife still clutched in his hand, pointed out of the way. He let go of Seth's wrist, that hand coming up to touch the wound he'd made, smearing the blood over Seth's chest. He heard the soft shushing sound as Seth put his Millenium Rod back together. Atemu let the knife in his hand drop to the ground, winding his hand through Seth's hair, fighting his challenging tongue. He felt Seth shift to return the Rod to his belt before he grabbed him by the hips, pushing him back against the pillar and grinding against him.

They groaned into each other's mouths, pulling apart for air. Atemu pulled the thong of the Puzzle up and returned it to his own neck, pushing it out of the way as Seth pressed his body against his, holding him against the pillar hard enough to make him gasp for air, his ribs screaming.

"Seth, you're crushing me," Atemu gasped, then groaned as Seth rubbed against him again.

"Then let me find something softer to press you against," Seth rumbled.

Atemu found himself lifted again, wrapping his legs around Seth's waist as the priest walked over towards Atemu's expansive bed. He abruptly let go and Atemu fell over backwards, landing against the soft mattress, his legs still around Seth's waist so he was tilted awkwardly. He glared up at him, letting his legs drop before he scooted backwards, putting his head on one of the pillows as Seth chased him, crawling lithely onto the bed and over him. Seth hovered over him, supporting his weight so he didn't touch Atemu at all, his cape falling over his back to brush against Atemu's sides. The Pharaoh shivered, then reached up, grabbing Seth by the shoulders and pulling him down, causing his arms to fold and his weight to land on him, Seth bracing himself enough not to knock the wind out of him.

They sought each other's mouths again while Atemu undid the fastening of Seth's cape by feel, pushing it off his shoulders and onto the bed, his hands going down to begin pushing Seth's skirt down his hips. The High Priest pulled away to sit up, removing the rest of his clothes and jewelry, the Rod placed carefully at the edge of the bed. Then he went to Atemu, removing his own clothes and jewelry as the Pharaoh sat up half-way hands gliding over Seth's arms and torso, hindering him. Seth growled, pushing Atemu's hands away as he tugged off the crimson cape, throwing it and his own off the bed. The Puzzle joined the Rod and Atemu's crown, the rest thrown unceremoniously onto the floor.

Seth crushed their mouths together as soon as Atemu was naked, shoving him back down onto the bed. Atemu wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him back, feeling Seth's hands run down his sides to his thighs where he began pushing them apart. Atemu resisted, snarling against the kiss, but Seth was stronger and he relented as his lover insisted.

The lube was retrieved from where Atemu had it under his mattress and Seth slicked his fingers before moving his hand down between Atemu's parted thighs. The long digits were pushed in one at a time and Atemu couldn't stop a low moan as they brushed his prostate.

Seth grinned down at him, prodding his sweet spot over and over until he was nearly insane with the desire coursing through him.

"Seth, take me, by all the gods, before I send you to face Anubis out of--AHH!"

For Seth had removed his fingers, positioned himself, and thrusted to the hilt in one hard movement, sending pain and pleasure up Atemu's spine. Breathing shallowly, Atemu groaned as Seth began to move almost at once, a long, steady, hard drive that shook his whole body. It was rough, almost violent, and the pain and pleasure warred together before Seth struck his prostate and he cried out against his will, his arms tight around Seth's shoulders.

"As my Pharaoh commands," Seth whispered before his tongue ran over the fresh cut in Atemu's neck.

Atemu drew his nails down Seth's back, then flattened one palm against the sliced pectoral, feeling the muscle move beneath his hand, the blood still slick. His passion-dark eyes landed on a thin, white line along Seth's shoulder, a healed mark of their earlier passions. He knew his own body bore similar white lines, almost invisible, and he reveled in each one his eyes picked out on his lover's body.

Seth increased his pace steadily, pounding Atemu into the sheets, causing the Pharaoh to wrap his legs around his waist again to brace himself. The pace decreased as Seth held his weight on one arm, using his free hand to run his calloused fingertips over Atemu's skin, tracing a scar along the bicep of his left arm.

The pleasure swirled higher and higher, their low groans and growls mixing together as Seth returned his weight to both hands so he could use his strength to slam into Atemu over and over again. Atemu reached down to wrap his fingers around his own erection, stroking himself firmly, the head rubbing against Seth's sweaty stomach. The perspiration stood out on both of their bodies, making their fresh cuts sting, the pain only heightening their pleasure.

Atemu screamed, coming over his stomach as Seth pounded his prostate. He heard his High Priest hiss as he clenched, then cry out in his own orgasm, bathing Atemu's insides with his seed.

Seth collapsed on him, pinning Atemu down into the mattress, the Pharaoh having only enough time to withdraw his hand so he could wrap his arms around Seth's back, gasping for breath. Seth panted against his shoulder, their bodies cooling slowly as they relaxed.

Atemu squirmed a little as Seth withdrew, then shoved the taller off of him. He sat up, meeting Seth's glare. They stared at each other for a long moment before the smirks tugging at the corners of their mouths broke through. They kissed once, briefly, then settled down together, pulling up the sheets around them, ignoring the stickiness. Atemu tucked his head under Seth's chin, his lower arm tucked between their chests, the upper around Seth's torso. Seth's arm crossed his as it draped over his waist, the priest's other arm bent under his head.

They fell asleep, Atemu promising himself to make Seth beg for mercy the next time they fought and he won.


Seto blinked as the vision faded, smirking widely down into Yami's upturned face. Yami had presented him with the Rod when they'd first started their relationship. Even now he refused to look at it, except when they danced their dangerous tango, bringing it out of the drawer he kept it in. The Items had shown them visions before, of Atemu and Seth's equally bloody love-making, and those images only increased Seto's desire, making his blood boil.

Seto moved his free hand up from Yami's shoulder to wrap around his neck under his chin, while the ruby-studded knife was moved down to hang at his side. Half-strangling Yami on purpose, he kissed him hungrily. Then jerked back as Yami moved.

The smaller didn't strike him while he wasn't looking, both of them too proud and honorable to attack like that. But as Seto stepped back, Yami swung his knife in a great arc. Seto countered, barely, and was forced to step back as Yami stabbed at his stomach. Scarlet eyes wild, Yami attacked again and again, driving Seto back until he hit the wall.

Yami suddenly moved the knife one way and his free hand the other. Seto found the wrist of his knife hand grabbed while Yami maneuvered his knife out of the way of his empty hand, sliding under his guard to press the point against Seto's chest, right over his heart.

"Surrender, Seto," Yami said breathlessly, grinning. "I have won."

Seto allowed the ruby-encrusted pommel to slide out of his relaxed grip, the knife landing with a muffled thud on the carpet. He didn't put up a fight, acknowledging Yami's victory. Those scarlet eyes glittered, then the knife was drawn back, though Yami didn't let go of his wrist. He stepped back, drawing Seto away from the wall.

"On your knees, Seto," Yami said huskily, letting go of his wrist at last.

Seto knelt down as the ancient Atemu had so many centuries ago. Yami stepped behind his back, and Seto felt the cold metal against his neck. Then Yami changed the rules a little bit by leaning down to whisper in Seto's ear.

"I could kill you right now."

Seto didn't respond, but couldn't stop a defiant growl. He hissed as the blade was drawn along his neck, adding a cut to the opposite side of the first one. Then he heard the muffled thump as his own sapphire-studded knife hit the carpet. Yami wrapped his arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning over him to lick at the open wound. Seto closed his eyes, tilting his head for easier access, the crease causing his first cut to throb.

Yami drew back, walking around Seto to face him, hand coming under Seto's chin to tilt his head back. Yami stared down at him, then smiled, hands going to Seto's shoulders and pulling him up. Seto was pulled over to the soft leather couch and pushed down on it as Yami climbed on top of him.

They tugged each other's clothes off, hands sliding over each other's bodies. Yami got up long enough to got the lube from where it sat with the Items, returning to Seto and beginning to prepare him. As Yami's fingers rubbed his prostate, Seto gritted his teeth, the pleasure pulsing from between his legs, gripping Yami's shoulders, refusing to cry out. But the torment went on and on, now matter how much Seto tried to withstand it. Finally he couldn't any longer.

"Yami! S-Stop teasing me and take me!"

Yami withdrew his fingers, slicking himself before slamming into him. Seto hissed through his clenched teeth, shifting a little as Yami pressed him down against the couch cushions, beginning to thrust. Seto raised his long legs and wrapped them around Yami's lean waist, taking his hard thrusts with stifled grunts. Yami purred low in his throat, his fingers digging into Seto's biceps as he held the other down.

Seto slowly opened his blue eyes, staring up into Yami's face as pleasure overwhelmed him when he struck his prostate. He bit back a cry, trying to push up against Yami but the smaller was thrusting so roughly he could barely move, the thrusts short and hard.

Yami shifted his weight to reach down and grip Seto's erection, pumping it steadily. Seto's breathing grew harsh and ragged as he neared his climax, his body tensing up. Then Yami's fingers squeezed the base and he was denied.


Yami laughed breathlessly, continuing to drive into him. "Beg me, my High Priest."


He choked on a scream as Yami dragged his thumbnail up the underside, pad rubbing the slit. He tried to stroke himself but Yami shoved his hands away.



Yami stroked him harshly again, his hips slamming into Seto hard. His pace decreased as his own body started to shake, clearly staving off his own climax to continuing torturing Seto. The taller stared up at him angrily, but Yami only grinned, his tight fist pumping steadily.

"I w-won't beg!"

"Yes, you will."

Yami sped up again, causing Seto to cry out without his consent, squeezing his eyes shut, fingers sinking into Yami's shoulders, but for all the notice the other took he might as well not have. As he neared his climax again, he felt Yami's fingers threatening to squeeze. He couldn't take it a second time, far too wound up from their erotic dance, and reluctantly swallowed his pride. For now.

"My Pharaoh! Please!"

Yami moaned at Seto's words. That seemed to be enough for him and he slammed into Seto with renewed vigor and it was too much. Seto's back curved and he screamed as he came all over himself. The burning filled him as Yami released a second later, his own soft cry muffled as he dug his teeth into Seto's shoulder.

They relaxed against the couch, Yami pulling out before laying down on the panting brunette. Seto reached up, tangling his fingers idly in spiky, multi-colored hair, eyes closed, his other arm draped over Yami's back. The smaller's trembling stopped. He lifted himself up enough to meet Seto's gaze, smirking smugly. Seto glared at him, then kissed him hard, nipping at his bottom lip. Yami kissed him back, then drew away, relaxing onto Seto's chest again. The two of them drifted off.

Seto would make Yami beg the next time.