Complicated, or:

Complicated

or

A Dissertation on the Differences Between Past and Present Versions of the Self as Analyzed by Kaiba Seto and Set in a Yaoi Context


So who would be seme here? Dominant? On top? In vulgar terms, who would do the fucking, and who would be the bitch?


Looking down at Seth as he slept, Seto tried to make sense of it. Obviously, it came down to their personalities. Would Seth be the type to wrest control from him? To subdue him and make him submit?


Would he be the type to do that to Seth?


No, probably not. Of course not. There was no way he would... But there was something, something he couldn't quantify...


Every time he came to think of it, it hit a dead end. It just ran into a wall, a cul-de-sac, a labyrinth it couldn't escape from, and he knew the name of the maze; Complication. They were both just too damn complicated.


The problem was the Seth was, for lack of a better term, good. The was just too strange, to see someone whose physical differences from him were superficial act out of something more altruistic than enlightened self-interest. It wasn't that he saw himself as cruel or evil, or even saw himself as being as cold and selfish as everyone else did – on the contrary, there were those he would die for without a second thought. As a last resort, of course, but he would if there were no other way. Mokuba, actually; not people, 'those', plural, just Mokuba. Still, even if it were only one person, it was there.


But Seth... He would die for anyone. Anyone. A stranger on the street. If he saw a little old lady about to be hit by a car he would push her out of the way and take it himself. If someone were being mugged, he wouldn't call the authorities, he would intervene himself and pay absolutely no heed to the fact that he was putting himself in danger. It just didn't seem to occur to him that it was unnatural to go out of your way for other people.


Not that he would be necessarily putting himself in danger; he was good. Capable. Utterly and completely confident in his abilities, knew his limits, knew how far he could push himself past them. Strong, and he knew he was strong, and he didn't have to flaunt it. It was just obvious in the way he carried himself, in everything about him. He was willing to inconvenience himself for other people because he saw clearly that he could help or protect them when they couldn't help or protect themselves. Apparently he felt that gave him some sort of obligation to them. Just because they were weak and he was strong, he was responsible for them, when they should have bothered getting strong themselves instead.


People who were weak didn't deserve protection, didn't deserve to be rewarded for it; they had to get out of the way of those who had paid their price and made the effort, beaten their enemies, and become strong for it. If they couldn't handle it, they deserved what they got, be it humiliation or inconvenience or death itself. Survival of the fittest. And that was something Seth didn't seem to get. Admittedly, Darwin hadn't exactly been in fashion when he had lived the first time, but it should have come naturally to him, and anyone else with the least bit of intelligence.


And there were other things that bothered him about Seth. The man seemed to have no ambition whatsoever. Unbelievable as it was, he was content, to be little more than a glorified servant to his king. Sure, he had to have some ambition, to get to even be a servant from his beginnings – what, as a peasant, or something equally uncomfortably analogous? – but he didn't get that feel from him, the hunger for power or prestige. It was more like a sense of Manifest Destiny; he had gone after, not what he wanted, but what he deserved and should have, with full confidence that he could and would get it and keep it. And now that he had it, he didn't want any more, not for himself. So he was ambitious for the Pharaoh's sake – so what? It only made him more of a servant. He was literally one step away from ruling the world as he knew it, and not only had he never tried for it, he hadn't even wanted it when he had gotten it. Accepted it, done his job to the best of his abilities – perfectly, no doubt – but never wanted it. What was the phrase from Western theology? The meek inheriting the Earth?


Not that he was going to rule the world himself, he supposed, but then again the world was much larger now than it had been. He did rule his own part of it, though, and if the chance to rule the rest of it came along... well, he'd have to be some kind of idiot not to take it, wouldn't he?


And that was another thing. Pride. Seth didn't seem to have it, not in the semi-traditional mortal sin kind of sense, so long as he was stealing from Christianity. He was an arrogant prick, but where that same vice or virtue drove people away from Seto, it just seemed natural in him. His arrogance wasn't overblown, it wasn't blustering or boasting or posturing, it was confidence, just a realistic assessment of his abilities. It was...


It was fucking infuriating, was what it was. Seth was so good he made him want to puke. He wanted to see Seth betray someone, or even lie, or... fuck, it would even be nice to see him swear once in a while. He was so disgustingly moral, Seto wasn't sure how he had managed to survive.


He wasn't a bad man himself. Not particularly good, either; he was just real. The protagonist in his own life story, as far as that went to justify anyone's actions in the eyes of the greater human race, which was generally not at all. He was arrogant, cynical, selfish, cold-hearted, ruthless, true enough, but he did genuinely love his brother, and he was determined to do some good on he face of the Earth before he left it, which was more than some could say for themselves. He had done evil things, for good reasons, bad reasons, no reason. He had done good things, as well. He didn't particularly care, most of the time. That was life.


Actually, an uncompromisingly realistic view of life was something he believed he and Seth shared. The difference was in their outlooks; Seth was the optimist, he was the pessimist. That simple, really.


Looking at Seth right this moment, though, he had to wonder... which of them was truly the yami, the darkness, here?


Not that such pointless tree-falling-in-forest philosophical drivel mattered here. The point was that Seth was basically good, while he himself was just basically human, better than most in the eyes of all that mattered, those eyes being currently watching a much more interesting question sleeping in his bed.


And trying to figure out how the relationship would play out.


Seth was strong; strength was a classic prerequisite for seme, or at least weakness on the half of the uke, but he wasn't weak. Neither of them was, except insofar as being so nice and gut-wrenchingly good was a weakness. So that would be the deciding factor... Seth would give him control, because he would want it, and Seth would see that he did, obviously, definitely, have control issues. Or he would take control to try and help him past his control issues, assuming in his smug little do-gooder way that he wanted help for one of his innumerable character flaws that were only flaws in the eyes of others, when in reality being in control of every situation and scenario was perfect strategy, and perfect survivalist practice. Or, even if for less perfectly good and selfless reason, if he wanted control and Seto wanted control, Seth would more than likely more often than not hand it over to him with a token resistance, because it was what he wanted, and it was in Seth to inconvenience himself for others and not in himself to do the same, because if anything else that was the character flaw that needed treatment...


But in every single case that actually left Seth in control, because he was the one doing the handing, or the allowing, or the taking. He would know if he were in control that it was because Seth had allowed him that control...


Damn it, why did Seth have to be so damned confident?


There was only one way. A preemptive strike, to take his defenses away and prove who was in charge, and if Seth ended up seme it was a favor on his part. Seth didn't choose their roles...


He sat on the bed behind Seth and tugged him by the shoulder onto his back, kissing him suddenly, deeply, leaving no doubt that this was his kiss. And it apparently worked, since Seth kissed him back without putting up a fight. That should do for the moment...


“Have you finally gotten that figured out?” Seth asked in vague disinterest as he turned onto his side to resume his posture for sleep.


“You're infuriating,” Seto told him bluntly.


“No, I'm tired, since you've kept me awake by standing there and staring at me for the last hour and a half. I see that you've finally chosen to be dom... Now will you go to sleep, or at least allow me to do so?”


“You're going to need crutches to walk right after I get done fucking you.”


“Good night,” Seth said pointedly, and made it clear he would answer no more with his stone wall pose.


Seth watched him and sighed in irritation, and wondered how much of the goading was because Seth was giving him more means and desire to be seme and how much was just because he was a jerk, and how much control either one of them had here...


And decided, as he lay down, that they were both far too complicated for this to have an easy answer and he was going to drive himself insane if he tried the think about it much longer without either coffee or sleep, and since he was already in bed, he might as well sleep now, mess around with Seth when he woke up, and see what happened.