Ra Beneath the Night Sky

Disclaimer: I do not own YugiOh.
Warnings: Unbetaed. Flashbacks. Angst. YAOI and LEMON.


Ra Beneath the Night Sky


It was the one hundred thirteenth day of Atemu’s second summer as pharaoh.

The god-descendent of Osiris that ruled Egypt opened his eyes. Outside his window, Ra was beginning to rise in order greet him. Instead of going to his balcony to watch Ra veil the sky in oranges and reds as he did normally, as he had done every day for his entire life, Atemu stayed in the cool shadows of his bed. For a long time he stared, letting one thought-realization reverberate through his head and the feeling in his heart go slowly numb.

**********

It was the one hundred twelfth day of Atemu’s second summer as pharaoh and would soon become Atemu’s one hundred thirteenth.
Normally, he would be plotting Atemu’s downfall to prevent that day from ever coming, but there was just one wayward thought-realization reverberating in his head tonight.

The stars shone bright.

Set, beloved of Egypt, son of Akunadin, one of the chosen among the High Priests, scholar, and Pharaoh’s latest planned conquest, thought it was so. He leaned a weary head of auburn locks against the cool refuge of a palatial stonewall. Set’s mind ached today. Ached like a man dying of thirst ached for water. The day had been spent outside, observing a shadow duel among the apprentices. At least, most of the royal party had wiled away the time in this manner. He however, had taken full advantage of his position by Pharaoh’s right hand side to scrutinize Atemu’s countenance up-close, watching how Pharaoh’s berry stained hands had caressed soft lips with such attention, although the other’s eyes had been far away, lost in the high screams of children that would one day become low fearsome battle cries. A drop of the red juice had formed a dewdrop right at the edge of Pharaoh’s smirk and had made its way down the sovereign’s chin like an errant ruby. Set had felt as impulsive as a thief; his fingers had yearned to steal that treasure away, but had craved even more to touch the soft tanned skin of Pharaoh, to know that Atemu’s flesh was as yielding as all human flesh must be. Set had desperately wanted to know that small comfort in the face of the divine harshness of Atemu’s smile. The High Priest had felt his throat grow parched and then he had struggled to breathe as Atemu reclined onto the divan, kohl-rimmed eyes fluttering shut, muscles stretching for a moment as the preparation for the semi-finals began far away below.

A sleeping god. A beautiful god. A merciless god that took no notice as Ra moved, as the small patch of shadow cast by the makeshift cloth rooftop wandered and finally abandoned Set at his upright post. Left him to boil in the sun for hours. When Pharaoh had woken, cool and composed under the continued fanning of his slaves, ready to return to his home, Set had to follow and almost lost himself to the dizziness, to the disorientation. But the Pharaoh’s eyes were sharp and lucid, his exotic mane of hair a beacon to Set and the rest of the royal train. So Set had half-stumbled across the desert to return home. Yes. His home, too. Where he had is own rooms, not as grand in the palace as the Pharaoh’s, but then again, none were.

But at least for this night, and surely it was night now, he would know their grandeur.

The moon waned behind a cloud. Inside the palace, Set felt himself grow weak and he began to fall. One of the guards by Atemu’s door rushed down the corridor to greet him, greatly distressed. Did the High Priest need assistance? Should he call the healers? Set shook his head and slid up. He glared and told the nervous underling he needed to see Pharaoh. Set felt warm, half-melted inside, but he still found the remaining harshness in him, so like Atemu’s, and so unlike it at the same time to bark at the guard, “Get away!”

He stood at the portal to Pharaoh’s room and waved the group away. When the soldiers looked bewildered and wary, he summoned the shield spell – an invisible field that expanded until it pressed with force against them.

“Go guard the outer chambers instead! I’ll protect the Pharaoh well enough! Right now, there are clandestine things we must discuss!”

The guards hurried away, awed and a little cowed at the unseen results of Set’s murmured chant. Set stared at their hasty retreat. Then he entered Pharaoh’s bedchambers and collapsed against the silken frigidity of Atemu’s sheets. They smelled like the sovereign, the clean and simple scent that was deceptive of Atemu’s true nature. Set’s foggy mind tried to concentrate, even to commit to memory the nuances of a room it had been in only a handful of times, but Set could not think anymore. He only breathed in and out slowly, as if the unique musk of Atemu could be taken like a medicine in repeated doses to soothe a chronic sickness.

“Set, you must be ill to have wandered in here on purpose.”

Set turned his head. By the light of the oil lamp, Atemu’s face looked young with its eyes more rotund in shock, and his profile bold, cast in orange and shadow. Atemu was fresh from the bath. The water gems sparkled in his colorful hair like moon pearls. Atemu’s eyes, violet and crimson, were more purple than red at the moment because the Pharaoh was caught unaware by the tempting sight before him – a sleepy-eyed Set that sparked a sense of possession without the odious flame of half-hate and half-madness they met with in normal combative circumstances.

Pharaoh smiled. Every day was a battle, but not tonight.

“But since you are here. I take it you have made a decision.”

In response, Set blinked like a lost child, then watched with amusement as Atemu’s surprise melted into his normal stare. Atemu’s smug expression was like a half-scowl, with eyebrows drawn attractively down like curtains trying to dim the unconquerable fire of the sun. This sun, this other Ra as Set thought of it, resided wholly in Atemu’s eyes, which could bloom red and gorgeous like a thorny flower grown far away by people not their own. Set remembered it had the unusual lilting name of rose, formed by odd foreign consonants and vowels to match that far away-ness.

“Ro-su?” Atemu murmured gingerly, clearly dumbfounded by Set’s whispered phrase.

Pharaoh approached.

Atemu drew close and put his cool water fingertips on Set’s cheek. They brushed down carefully, like artisans at their calligraphy years and continents away. Atemu moved then, to kiss that cheek, to brush away the water stain with his mouth. Set felt the internal fire ignite. It did not cool when Atemu retraced his lips’ path with a moist tongue, marring the canvas beneath him a second time. Then tender lips reached and dropped suddenly with butterfly wings upon Set’s brow, fluttering like shimmering spider weavings caught in the wind. Then those lips withdrew.

“I do not know of this rose, but there are many other things I wish to discuss. Or perhaps the time for talk has ended?”

At the corrected pronunciation, Set smiled inwardly in spite of himself. Atemu watelltelligent and had always been quick with words. But right now, Atemu’s voice was low and lusty and betrayed nothing of the normal sting carried by their master’s needle sharp wit. Set struggled to gather up a defense, but the honeyed tones washed over him, unyielding and overcoming like surf upon the shore. He did not move away as hands began to un-robe him. Did not struggle when the millennium rod, so sacred, so precious to him, was withdrawn from his lax grip with gentle hands – flung across the room with sharp echoing clinks on the marble floor. When the mouth descended from Set’s face down to his neck, lapping the priest’s collarbone greedily, at last, Set spoke.

“So you would take advantage of me in my weakened state? That seems beneath you, Atemu.” A little bit of old old scorn reappeared on Set’s lips and blue eyes began to clear a little in anger. In response, the kisses grew more ardent.

“I’m here, Set! Stop looking at your millennium rod! Look at me when you talk!” Pharaoh growled, deep and low, not having heard a word from his High Priest’s mouth. How did Atemu’s voice get so low? Set’s mind spun. To focus himself, Set directed his gaze more sharply on his mislaid treasure on the floor. Thank the gods the millennium rod was not chipped, but something of that caliber couldn’t be dented so easily like some cheap thing. And after all Set had done to earn it, the rod couldn’t be considered cheap at all.

Aloud, Set said sarcastically, “Do you think yourself such a great lover, Atemu? Do you think by a mere kiss the world would cease to exist to me, or perhaps, that my world would consist of only you?”

Pharaoh withdrew as if he had bitten by a poisonous adder. Set’s eyes blazed with cold ice and suddenly his anger overrode the debilitating effects caused by the afternoon’s heat. With sudden ferocity, the Pharaoh of Egypt, the god himself, was beneath another man, all too human, too, despite his priestly position. Set rubbed enticingly above his king.

“This. Is this what you want? Three days you gave me. Three days to decide and you knew I would come, didn’t you? Come because there would never be another offer. When the divine smiles at you, it’s said you should not turn away, after all. Haha, even if they ask you to be their whore!”

The heat. The heat was making him careless. Set shuddered inside at his own mocking words, a double-edged sword that pierced Atemu’s eyes just as it pierced Set’s soul.

“No. Not that. Never that. Gods, Set.” Atemu’s answering kiss was tender, then fierce unlike his body that lay submissive below the priest. The sovereign wished to do more, but reigned in his desire for intensity; the soft worshippers on Set’s skin withdrew temporarily. “Bed with me this night and I will not ask for more.”

Set held his breath as he felt tanned fingers wander over his back, pressing softly into him, insisting that he lie flush against his Pharaoh. Set complied. Atemu moaned. Set hissed. “And what if it becomes more than this night?”

Pharaoh’s eyes were beginning to change. The red in his irises began to overtake the violet and then they were full of fire, and yet, Atemu’s words were soft and sincere. “I ask only once, but I would gladly have you any day.”

Set closed his eyes and rubbed his nose in apology against another's. The next questioned he whispered, “You’ll have me, but you won’t have love?”

The fog of pleasure in Atemu’s eyes cleared. “Set, I- ”

“Save your speech, Atemu. We know this isn’t anything more than a transaction. We know that those with power are often the loneliest of people.” Set looked away. “Do you do this out of loneliness, Atemu? Or is it simply because you wish to own me like you do all of Egypt?”

Pharaoh, too, looked away. “You talk as if you were another pleasure slave. I trust you, Set. I respect you.”

“But you don’t love, me, do you?”

“Why, do you - ”

“I hate you. You are my eternal rival, after all.” Set smiled harshly. “What are the conditions?”

“You must be gone by dawn. I’ll place a sleep spell on the guards, but once day breaks they will rouse. I insist they rouse none the wiser.” To soften his callous words, Atemu embraced the man above him, and buried his face into a soft shoulder. Gently he rolled them over and then eased off Set’s torso to look his priest in the eye. Against the sheets, Set’s head was tilted to the side, his gaze still far away. The blue eyes Atemu cherished did not gift Pharaoh with their presence. The sovereign pressed down and nipped gently at one of Set’s neck cords. He was pleased when the muscles beneath him instinctively flexed. The High Priest closed his eyes and let Atemu’s mouth continue to idolize him. The sovereign’s head receded further and further from Set’s view until the Pharaoh crouched above Set’s lower torso, bowed before his own subordinate. Set felt giddy with the irony of it all. Until the warm hand took the throbbing essence of the High Priest in its grasp. Set hissed. Until that worshiping tongue dared lay itself on him.

With a powerful yank, Set grasped the fine hair he had admired for so long. “What are you doing?” Set demanded.

“I thought this would please you,” Pharaoh murmured, bewildered at suddenly finding himself facing Set’s eyes instead of warm skin. Atemu’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes beginning to glaze in arousal and pleasure.

A part of Set agreed with Atemu’s words, but a greater part did not. “That doesn’t please me.” Set pushed up until they both sat before each other, and bent down to kiss Atemu’s lips, which opened eagerly. Set broke away. “Lovers should at least kiss each other’s lips before they bed.” Atemu only nodded once before the Pharaoh clasped a forceful hand around the High Priest’s neck and forced Set’s head down. Their second battle was fiercer, more passionate. When they broke a second time, it was Atemu who smirked triumphantly and Set who was dazed. In retaliation, the priest began to undress Pharaoh, flinging the other’s shenti away. The precious jewels, Set treated like worthless rocks. The necklaces and bands fell with a satisfying jumble of metallic gold clinks, landing next to the discarded millennium rod. The item glowed angrily at being almost knocked aside. Set turned and instinctively moved to retrieve his forgotten treasure, when Pharaoh moved behind the priest on the bed and nibbled at an ear.

“If this is to be only one night. Let me be satisfied, Set. Forget such other worldly matters.”

Set turned at that commanding voice. Atemu glowed. His brown skin was already soft with perspiration. His hair and eyes were brilliant blossoms of color. Without gold, emeralds, or rubies to chain them, Atemu’s eyes truly were sirens. Like a hapless sailor, Set found himself drawn to their crimson promise and away from any rational thoughts he had. Together their bodies found each other, reverberated like strings dancing along a bow. Atemu lay beneath Set’s suffocating embrace and laughed.

“Why do you laugh?” The High Priest labored to breathe as he rocked down against the warm body beneath him. Atemu lifted a delicate-looking neck to kiss under Set’s jaw before fine fingers began again to transverse the body above them.

“Because I can see Nut tremble. I can see the ocean waves soar and crash. I can see the stars being born in firmament,” Atemu whispered even as he groaned.

“Such is the power of Pharaoh,” Set agreed, somehow saddened. He was a priest; he believed in the gods and therefore, he believed in the divine gifts of insight that they gave to Pharaoh. How bittersweet to be cherishing the person beneath him and yet still envy Atemu for that power.

“No, Set. It is merely because you are my looking glass. My beautiful blue-tinted looking glass,” Pharaoh said, pressing a hand against Set’s cheek. His gaze bore into Set’s blue orbs.

“What sorcery is this? Are you trying to pull me into your eyes?” Set’s heart leapt as he stared into the other’s heated look. Set’s hips pressed onward, his arousal meeting another’s.

“Really? Because I’ve – already – drowned in yours!” Atemu shouted as his body began to give. Set could not answer as he, too, was caught in the same gale. Two bodies convulsed against each other caught in liquid heat. They ceased at last when something exploded to cover them in the purity of a liquid blessing. Set let another liquid gather in his eyes for a moment as he pressed his head against Pharaoh’s shoulder. It was over. It was over and suddenly he felt cold.

And yet, Set chuckled. “So, Pharaoh. Even in bed, you still manage to tell such pretty lies.”

“I do not lie.”

“Somehow, I do not believe you,” Set replied as he searched around the room with tired eyes for a cloth that they could wipe themselves with.

“Then perhaps I should not speak at all.” Atemu’s voice was rough. Set felt himself pinned against the bed again. “You are mine tonight, Set.” A hand reached out to encircle Set’s cock and began to pump in slow strokes. “This is mine. You are mine.” Despite himself, Set felt his body begin to respond to the warm friction, to the gentle squeezes and harsh caresses. He wanted to push into that warmness. But did not. He wanted to stay halt, but did not. Then Atemu bent down to deliver a tender torture and Set’s willpower shattered.

“Stop."

“Why?” Atemu’s pink tongue darted behind kiss-bruised lips again. A silence stretched, then Atemu started to resume suckling when –

“I don’t like it,” Set spoke bluntly. “To watch you bow before me in battle is one thing. When that time comes, I will relish it. But like this, to take without giving…I’m an fair man.”

“You think I’d do this for you, without wanting something back?” Atemu’s right eyebrow quirked up in amusement. Then both his eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. But what happens when I want more than I give, Set?”

“At-”

Atemu silenced him with a kiss. “I’m sorry. I forgot we should not speak.”

“We?”

“I would not want a lie, either, Set,” Atemu said, his head bent, his eyes shadowed as he emphasized the High Priest’s name with a sudden jerk of the hand which wrapped around the most sensitive part of Set’s body. That was the last of their words. Set gripped the sheets as Atemu descended one final time. The tongue lapped delicately around the head of Set’s cock in soft teasing licks like warm moist breezes. Then Atemu’s mouth enclosed around him and the High Priest was caught in solid tropical heat. Set felt himself shudder as Atemu began to nurse on his arousal timidly. Another of Atemu’s hands began to stroke Set’s scrotum, to loll his sacs between their clever fingers. Set moaned and suddenly the fingers were behind and at a soft patch of skin. They pressed and Set gasped. Those fingers massaged, even as Atemu moved closer to push Set’s arousal past the tip of his tongue into his mouth. Atemu deep-throated him for a moment then slid back.

Then a finger touched Set *there*.

The High Priest’s body rebelled briefly before a painful nip at the head of his cock silenced it. Angered, Set unconsciously drove himself deeper into Atemu’s mouth. The apology that was to follow died in Set’s throat when the sovereign merely adjusted to the intrusion. Slowly, Set pushed forward again as the finger invaded his clef again with gentle insistence. Set gritted his teeth when that finger began to press painfully into him. Then it ceased like a flash of lightning and withdrew. Pharaoh released Set’s cock from his mouth and leaned forward and pressed a kiss against one inner thigh in silent apology for his carelessness.

Atemu’s fingers began to gather up the cum they had spent. Set watched with wide eyes as Atemu began to masturbate with his left hand, spreading the pearly substance over himself. The sovereign smirked then recaptured Set’s cock in his mouth. Set groaned. With hooded eyes, the High Priest could only watch as Atemu rocked between Set’s legs and simultaneously between his own fingers. Set lay back down and stifled a breath when the lubricated finger that had taunted him before reappeared. It entered again with less friction and Set let the intruder invade, trying to relax as it did so. Encouraged by the muscles relaxing against his finger, Atemu pressed in another finger to the first knuckle and massaged Set’s inner passage. The tight muscle relaxed further, then suddenly contracted. Atemu could not suppress a moan of anticipation and rocked harder into his other hand. Slowly, the Pharaoh pushed his digits the rest of the way in, scissoring as he did so. Although Set exhaled each breath harshly, the muscles continued to relax around Atemu’s fingers. Pharaoh withdrew his fingers and his mouth. Set looked up with bleary eyes and the Pharaoh smiled in return. The sovereign hooked one of Set’s legs around his waist and positioned himself, brushing his arousal against Set’s clef. Atemu pushed and the ring of muscle yielded to embraced him in their heat. Set’s breaths grew harsher and more erratic, but he did not say anything. Atemu pushed, then stopped, doing this for a few minutes every cycle so that Set would become used to him. He did not want to hurt his High Priest. Finally, with great restraint, Atemu was fully sheathed. He watched Set’s face carefully. The priest’s muscles were tense with pain, and the eyes that could speak so much, and that Atemu so adored, were tightly hidden behind dark lashes.

Atemu wavered. It did not look like Set was enjoying this as much as he was.

Inwardly he snarled at himself, and carefully began to withdraw, hoping he would not injure his High Priest any further. Just as he began to slide away, the cerulean eyes revealed themselves and Set plunged his body forward. Atemu gasped as Set voluntarily impaled himself, then moaned when the hot friction continued as Set pushed insistently forward. Despite himself, Atemu pushed back and groaned. The first few thrusts were met with silence, but upon the tenth, he heard a muted moan from Set. Reinvigorated, he plunged into the tight cavern harder. Atemu smiled when he heard the first unbridled, full, mind-numbing groan from his High Priest. The sound ran through Atemu’s body and straight to his groin. His cock tingled in response and he plunged further, harsher and harder, until the flesh between them bruised red. Set cried louder, Atemu cried louder. Louder and Louder. Sweat-slicked skin against each other. Atemu took Set’s arousal into his hand. Harder. He pumped and drove into the body that welcomed him. Faster. Faster and faster, striving for that bright place for lovers which seemed to open up upon them like a golden field of wheat with the Nile flooding its joyous waters and Ra smiling above them as the world twisted and burst into fire and bloomed, changed into two wails of ecsta - Atemu choked back a sob – Heaven!

Tired and bone weary, Atemu withdrew from the body in which he had spent himself.

Atemu moved to indulge in the simpler pleasure of cuddling with his newfound lover. Set’s breathing began to slow and the priest watched with barely opened eyes as Atemu huddled into the warm expanse that was Set’s chest.

“You lied to me.” Set finally spoke, breaking the wordless quiet. But Atemu was beginning to drift away on warm clouds. He tried to stay by focusing on the steady rhythm of Set’s heartbeat and by clinging onto Set’s bronzed skin. The flush Set’s body wore had not wholly gone away. Sunburn? When had he been so careless as to let his High Priest nearly take sunstroke? Atemu did not remember, but he licked a nipple in apology. Set’s body responded by flinching.

“You lied to me.”

Atemu blinked. Set was speaking again. It must be important. He tried to concentrate, to stare up into the azure eyes that could hold him forever, but they were too far away. Sleep tugged on edge of his consciousness like a smiling cherub. Atemu smiled back.

“You lied, Atemu. When you came, you spoke. You screamed out my name.” Set buried his face into his Pharaoh’s hair and let the moisture gather a second time, but for the first time he let the rain come down on his Egyptian-sunned cheeks. Atemu was asleep, his ears closed to the universe, his otherworldly crimson eyes hidden behind human lashes.

The stars shone bright.
But for Set, it was only now had Ra truly set.
He wept.

Only now was it night.

**********

It was the one hundred thirteenth day of Atemu’s second summer as pharaoh.

The god-descendent of Osiris that ruled Egypt opened his eyes. Outside his window, Ra was beginning to rise in order greet him. Instead of going to his balcony to watch Ra veil the sky in oranges and reds as he did normally, as he had done every day for his entire life, Atemu stayed in the cool shadows of his bed. For a long time he stared, letting one thought-realization reverberate through his head and the feeling in his heart go slowly numb.


There were only empty sheets besides him.


Owari.