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Seto tried to focus on everything else around him. Soft light filtered in through the stained glass windows, making colored squares on the slate floor below. The scent of wood and ozone filled the air around him, and a cold breeze blew in from the open doors, lightly ruffling Seto’s hair and making his coat flutter behind him. He crossed his arms, unused to having just the fabric of his turtleneck to protect them from the wind. His left felt too light, too vulnerable without the weight of his Duel Disk. Footsteps echoed in the vaulted space, the click of heels getting closer and closer, until they came to a halt a few yards away. Seto took a deep breath, feeling his chest expand from the oxygen. If he only considered other sensory input, he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the other presence in the room—at least, until he spoke.
“Kaiba.” The resonant voice bounced off the ceiling and walls in the same way his footsteps had. Seto shivered minutely, though continued to stand up straight, eyes finally landing on the person in front of him. Just as beautiful as he remembered, the Pharaoh was regarding him with a coy smile, arms open in contrast to his own closed-off body language. “I figured you wanted to duel, but unless you can pull cards out of thin air, I take it that’s not the case?”
“You’re correct, Pharaoh.” Seto’s voice didn’t sound like his own—he cleared his throat, searching within himself for his usual façade of confidence. “I had something else in mind for today.”
“Oh?” The Pharaoh shifted his weight onto one hip, crossing his arms to mirror Seto. This caused the muscles under the golden bands on his upper arms to flex. Seto swallowed reflexively, sure his face was bright red. “Let’s hear it then. Dueling is fun and all, but I do enjoy a bit of variety.”
Rather than say anything, Seto clenched his fists by his sides, and looked away from the Pharaoh’s intimidating violet gaze. He took two deep breaths, again fixing his eyes on the shifting patches of color the stained glass cast on the tiles. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he crossed the distance between himself and the Pharaoh, pressing his lips against the Pharaoh’s own, no other point of contact between them.
The Pharaoh gasped softly, a warm puff of breath on Seto’s firmly closed mouth, before taking Seto’s bottom lip into his own, sucking gently. Then, he pulled away, chuckling. “So it’s like that , is it?” He sounded amused, though not condescending. “You should have done that years ago, Kaiba.” That was all the warning Seto got before the Pharaoh placed his hands on his shoulders and pulled him down into a deeper, softer kiss.
For a moment, Seto was frozen. Then, his eyes drifted shut, and he began kissing the Pharaoh in earnest, matching his pace. The Pharaoh made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, his tongue swiping against Seto’s lips. Seto opened his mouth, allowing his tongue to mingle with the Pharaoh’s; he tasted like honey, like tea, like electricity. Quivering hands finally rested on the Pharaoh’s arms, stroking up and down his toned biceps. His fingers brushed against the golden bands with every cycle, the temperature contrast causing a delicious shiver to run down his spine.
Seto was the one to pull away next, neck and back beginning to twinge with the uncomfortable angle. “I want to see you,” he blurted, wincing at how desperate he sounded already.
“I’m right here, Kaiba.” The Pharaoh sounded playful, that godforsaken smirk back on his face. “Unless you need your eyes checked, I’m certain you can see me already.”
“You know what I mean, Pharaoh,” Seto growled, and grabbed the collar of the jacket draped over his shoulders, tossing it carelessly to the side. When his shoulders were fully exposed to the air, Seto expected the Pharaoh to shiver, but he didn’t flinch at the breeze against his skin.
“I see.” His eyes only became more amused. “Why didn’t you just say you wanted to see me naked?”
Seto’s face was on fire, but he refused to acknowledge that with a response, instead reaching up to take off the Pharaoh’s choker. At the first brush of his fingers against leather, though his progress was halted. The Pharaoh’s hand wrapped around both of his wrists, trapping him in his grasp.
“I don’t believe you’ve earned that, have you?” Seto’s breath hitched, and he made renewed eye contact with the Pharaoh. One eyebrow was raised, a more dangerous edge to his smirk now.
“What are you talking about?” Seto jerked his arms, attempting to free himself from the Pharaoh’s grasp, but the hand was wrapped around his wrists too tightly preventing his escape. “Just let me take your damn clothes off.”
The Pharaoh tutted, but released his wrists. Before Seto could even register it, he felt hands on his shoulders. A firm shove was all it took to send him down on one knee, wincing as he felt his spiked knee pad collide with the hard slate floor.
“First, you have to prove that you’re worthy of it.” The playfulness had evaporated from the Pharaoh’s voice. Now, he sounded regal; it was the kind of voice that was made for places like the church they were in, the kind of voice that gave commands one dared not ignore. Seto felt his pants grow tighter, and he dropped his other knee to the floor. “You can’t expect to be handed a reward regardless of your actions, you know.”
“For what it took to bring you here, I’d say I deserve something ,” Seto grumbled under his breath. His voice died when the Pharaoh unbuckled both his belts, throwing them on top of his discarded jacket, then unzipped his leather pants. Despite himself, one corner of Seto’s lips quirked upwards. “Have I changed your mind?” he asked, smugness dripping from his tone.
A sharp pain went through his scalp as the Pharaoh wrapped a hand in his hair and pulled, forcing Seto to look up at him. “No, you haven’t, and if you keep this up, I might leave you like this.” Seto swallowed back a moan. Something must have changed in his expression, because the Pharaoh laughed, bordering on the edge of cruel. “Are you going to continue to be difficult?” The Pharaoh asked, brow raised. Seto shook his head, feeling renewed pinpricks in his scalp as the hand in his hair restricted his movement. “Good. Now stay where you are.”
With the release of his hair, the pain subsided—from his head, anyway. The metal of his knee pads was still digging into his skin uncomfortably, providing little respite from the hard floor beneath him. However, that wasn’t what Seto was focusing on. No, he was captivated by the Pharaoh’s deft hands pushing down his own pants, just enough to reveal his dick already half-erect.
Then those hands were on him, tugging on the shoulders of his white coat. He tried his best to relax, but the Pharaoh didn’t seem hindered by how rigid he was. Before he knew it, the sleeves dropped off his arms, leaving his coat billowed out around him on the floor. Another layer of protection gone. The Pharaoh didn’t seem disappointed by him. Instead, his eyes raked along his body almost appreciatively, his dick giving a little twitch as he did so.
“Let me—” Seto reached out with a hand, tentatively, but the Pharaoh grabbed it with his own before he could make contact.
“That’s not what I want,” he said, shaking his head. He walked behind Seto, still holding his hand, and grabbed his other, crossing them behind his back and holding them there for a moment. When he released his grip, Seto kept his hands where they had been placed. “Good, you’re learning,” he purred. A whine escaped Seto, despite his best efforts to hold it back.
When the Pharaoh reappeared in front of him, he lost his breath. He was standing directly in front of one of the windows, casting his face in a halo of light. Seto had been unsure of the setting, going back and forth on meeting the Pharaoh here , of all places—now, he knew he had made the right decision. Someone like him had to be seen in all his glory, and be worshipped like the god-king they said he was.
“Beautiful…” He spoke without thinking, captivated by the way the Pharaoh’s bangs caught the light, the way his lip curled at his words.
“I know.” The Pharaoh was looking down at Seto, a confident gleam in his eyes. He looked...haughty, Seto thought, but he couldn’t find it in himself to admonish him for it. Not knowing he was beautiful would be more odd. Focused on the Pharaoh’s expression, Seto was caught off guard at the first nudge of his cock against his open mouth.
Without thinking too hard, Seto opened his mouth wider, mouthing at the tip. The Pharaoh groaned, one of his hands weaving into Seto’s hair. His hips thrust forward, almost involuntarily, forcing more of himself into Seto’s mouth. Seto had expected it to taste worse, but it wasn’t unpleasant—salty, clean. The texture was more odd, but he didn’t have time to focus on it, instead trying to follow the Pharaoh’s rhythm as he thrust shallowly.
“That’s it,” the Pharaoh gasped. Seto’s scalp began to prickle again, the grasp on his hair becoming just shy of painful. He moaned around the cock in his mouth, attempting to take him in further and hollowing his cheeks. Without moving his head, he looked up at the Pharaoh, who met his gaze with an odd look—something soft, charged with an emotion Seto couldn’t identify.
“You look good like this, Kaiba,” he purred, releasing Seto’s hair to instead drag his fingers through it. “Do you like it? Being on your knees for me?”
Seto’s eyes narrowed, and he made a dismissive sound. Without warning, the Pharaoh withdrew himself, Seto’s mouth falling open. “What’s the problem?” he snapped, sitting back on his heels to relieve some of the discomfort from his knee pads and reaching for the Pharaoh’s dick with his hand.
There was an audible smack, followed by stinging pain in Seto’s hand. “I see you can’t follow instructions after all,” the Pharaoh chided, shaking out the hand he used to hit him. “That can be remedied easily.” With that, he reached down and took hold of Seto’s bicep, undoing the belts that were wrapped around his own arms. He quickly did the same on his other arm then crossed Seto’s wrists behind his back again, looping the belts around and fastening them. Seto immediately tested the restraints, but they held firm, leather biting into his wrists just enough to make him gasp.
“Not too tight, are they?” The Pharaoh was back in front of him, squatting so that they were at eye level.
“They’re fine,” Seto growled, heat blooming in his cheeks. “Now, we were in the middle of something. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Ah, but you’re not the one in control here.” Smirking, the Pharaoh took a step back, once again haloed by the light coming through the stained glass. He wrapped a hand around his own cock, moaning as he gave himself a few quick pumps. “Maybe I should just have my own fun, make you watch. Unless you have something to say about it?”
“ Pharaoh. ” Seto cursed inwardly at how desperate he sounded, the way his own hips were bucking in an attempt to satisfy his arousal. “ Please .”
“Please, what?”
A groan of displeasure. “Please, let me suck your dick.”
“Was that so hard?” The Pharaoh’s teasing tone dripped from his tongue, but he let go of his cock. It took entirely too much time in Seto’s opinion, but finally, he closed the gap between them. With a small wave, the Pharaoh said, “Continue.”
Seto looked up through his lashes with a smirk of his own. “Fine. I’ll make you wish I was doing this the whole time,” he said. Then, he wrapped his lips around the Pharaoh’s dick with new vigor and took him in. The Pharaoh responded enthusiastically, hands grasping Seto’s shoulders as he thrust into his willing mouth. Seto choked, but continued sucking, desperately willing his throat to relax.
Sweat was beginning to roll down Seto’s back, his shirt clinging to his skin. He didn’t want to interrupt them again by asking for the Pharaoh to remove it. Instead, he focused on the Pharaoh. With every thrust, his tight, black tank top rucked further up his body, revealing a slice of his impressive abdominal muscles. In contrast to his own dampness, the Pharaoh wasn’t sweating at all. His hair was still perfectly styled, his face unblemished, his eyes almost soft when they found Seto’s own. He was almost too perfect, which—
“Good, Kaiba, just like that.” The Pharaoh’s confident voice interrupted Seto’s train of thought, the praise making his cheeks burn. He should feel humiliated at the way he was being spoken to. Yet, he only grew more aroused, cock pressing uncomfortably to his fly. He moaned around the Pharaoh’s cock, part pain, part pleasure, which only made the thrusts come harder. The grip around his shoulders grew tighter, the fabric of his turtleneck bunching in the Pharaoh’s elegant fingers. Seto kept up the pace, alternating between sucking and licking the Pharaoh’s cock, bobbing as far down as he could in order to provide the most pleasure.
With his hands bound, he couldn’t give as much pleasure as he would like. The Pharaoh’s cock was too big for him to fully take in his mouth. Every so often, he would lick from the shaft to the tip, but it wasn’t the same kind of excitement he could provide if his hands were free.
Nonetheless, before long the Pharaoh’s thrusts grew quicker, more irregular. Instead of setting the rhythm, Seto found himself bobbing along with the Pharaoh.
“Ugh—Kaiba, I’m close,” the Pharaoh said. When Seto looked up, the Pharaoh’s eyes were squeezed shut though he remained as put-together as when they had begun their encounter. “Kaiba!”
With that cry, the Pharaoh finally came, releasing into Seto’s mouth with an audible sigh. Unpleasant, bitter fluid washed over Seto’s taste buds and throat. Though he tried to swallow, ultimately he found himself spitting onto the floor. Finally, the Pharaoh sighed, his hands relaxing on Seto’s shoulders though they didn’t let go.
“Thank you, Kaiba,” he said, finally allowing his spent cock to fall from Seto’s mouth.
“Hmph.” Seto relished his newfound freedom of speech, letting the sound fall like venom from his tongue. “I believe I am owed the same in return?”
“Are you?” The Pharaoh’s voice was teasing. Much to Seto’s relief, the Pharaoh finally removed his tank top, exposing his toned abs and chest to Seto’s greedy eyes. He tossed the shirt aside carelessly, pants still on. “Have you done enough to warrant release?”
“Yes.” Seto knew his voice was bordering on desperate, but he had to come.
“Well? What’s the magic word?”
“Please.”
“There we go.” The Pharaoh’s dexterous hand finally wrapped around Seto’s cock. “Thank you for asking nicely, Kaiba.”
The noise that came from Seto’s mouth was nearly a whimper, finally allowing himself to succumb to the torturous pleasure of the Pharaoh’s fingers. The Pharaoh pumped steadily, mercilessly, occasionally rubbing his thumb over Seto’s cock in a way that seemed almost caring.
“Pharaoh, please—” Seto cut himself off, unwilling to allow himself to beg more than he already had. For his part, the Pharaoh only increased his pace, forcing moans and whimpers from Seto’s mouth the faster he dragged his hand on Seto’s dick. His other hand snaked around his back, undoing the belts around his wrists.
Finally, “I’m—I’m close, Pharaoh.”
“That’s it,” the Pharaoh murmured into Seto’s ear. Instead of slowing his pace, torturing Seto with the threat of release the way he thought he would, the Pharaoh maintained his rhythm. “Come, Seto.” The command was enough to bring his release, coming over the Pharaoh’s hand and onto his own pressed slacks.
The Pharaoh sank onto his own knees, then resting his head on Seto’s shoulder. They were both panting, trying to catch their breath in the aftermath of their release. Of course, it was the Pharaoh who recovered first, pressing kisses to Seto’s ear as he wrapped his arms around him.
“Pharaoh—” Seto began to wriggle in the arms that were constraining him. He had to get out—but why, exactly?
“Stay here, Seto.” The Pharaoh whispered his first name into his ear the way a lover would, a husband, a wife. “You don’t have to leave. Stay, be with me. I love—”
“End program.” His voice was cold, detached. The Pharaoh met his eyes, frowning, and reached for Seto’s hand, only to dissolve into flecks of light before they could touch. The cathedral around them fizzled out, leaving behind the sterile walls of his virtual laboratory.
Seto blinked hard, eyes stinging from the harsh fluorescent lights. He fumbled for his discarded coat, bringing his lapel pin to his mouth without actually putting it on. The plastic was cool against his thumb as he activated the recorder within.
“Data log—The AI program seems responsive to stimuli, though it still does not exactly mimic human function. AI does not sweat, nor does it blush, nor does it release tears. These are things we must remedy if we are to instill a sensation of disbelief in the public. AI is adapting, giving unexpected outputs to my input; while this is promising, it needs to be reined in.”
He took his thumb off the pin briefly, blinking hard to dispel the tears forming behind his lids. “Delete recording of Test 116.”
Though he couldn’t see it, he knew his computer system was beginning the process of erasing the evidence of his encounter with the AI version of the Pharaoh just as it had in the past. Yes, these moments brought him some kind of release, but Seto knew they were ultimately inadequate compared to the real thing.
He sighed, looking down at his slacks, where evidence remained of his own release. Perhaps, soon, his program would be a suitable replacement for the Pharaoh. However, if that day proved to be a pipe dream, he needed to come up with another plan. One that would get the real Pharaoh back, at any cost.