Chapter Text
Seto's voice thundered in Mahaado's ear as he rambled on about the latest prank he'd fallen victim to. "My skin still hasn’t regained its color since that time two weeks ago when Mana set flame to my copy of the Teachings of Djedefhor and the enchanted flames ate through the fabric of my robes and burned the words "stick in the mud" into my shoulder!! So help me, Mahaado I…"
Mahaado opened the door to Seto's chambers, ushering the irate high priest in and closing the door behind them, as Seto continued his increasingly vehement tirade. He half-dragged Seto into the nearest chair, peering more closely at Mana’s latest handiwork.
A hush fell over Seto as Mahaado laid his palm against his shoulder and began softly chanting words of power. All thoughts of revenge slipped away as Seto noticed the sensuality of having eyes that were normally trained on the pharaoh trained on him. As Mahaado’s chanting continued, Seto began to notice the way the light burnished the magician's skin, giving it a glow. In this close proximity, with Mahaado’s firm figure towering over him, Seto thought he could feel the heat radiating from the magician’s body. The gentle touch of Mahaado’s fingers on his bare skin gave him a pin-prickly sensation. Against his better judgment, it excited him.
Mahaado's chanting stopped as he caught sight of the dark inscrutable look fixed on him. With alarm, he cried,"Set-what-"
All at once, Seto's lips were engulfing his, tasting and savoring him. Seto pulled back the barest of inches, his breath tickling Mahaado's throat. "If that is your way of showing gratitude," Mahaado signed in exasperation, "a simple thank you would have sufficed.''
"Is that so, Magician? And here I thought you'd be honored to receive my attention."
"Why in Ra's name would I want to be on the receiving end of that?"
And just like that, Seto was upon him again, slipping his tongue between Mahaado’s lips. To his own surprise, Mahaado moaned as white-hot pleasure shot through his veins. Abruptly, Seto pulled back, releasing him with an obvious smirk. “That’s why.”
Mahaado found his hands gripping the high priest’s waist. “Show-off,” he whispered huskily, the heat in his body drowning out all voices of reason.
Seto backed Mahaado toward the bed. Mahaado pulled Seto on top of him, enjoying the feel of Seto’s body pressed so closely against his own, feverish one. Mahad tossed aside Seto’s headdress and slipped his fingers into Seto's auburn hair. With a tenderness that felt foreign to him, Seto gently removed the robes concealing Mahaado’s upper body.
And then he saw it. At the exact moment Mahaado saw him see it and stiffened.
"Mahaado...wha-"
"It’s nothing." Mahaado said through gritted teeth, reaching his free hand to grab his discarded garment. Seto batted his hand away and Mahaado fixed him with an icy glare.
"This is..from that day."
"That day you never let me forget about."
"So..you have a permanent scar to remind you of your failure."
"Go on," Mahaado taunted, lifting his chin defiantly. "Aren’t you going to lecture me about my weakness? Aren’t you going to tell me how I died a dog’s d-”
Mahaado’s words died on his lips as he felt Seto firmly but gently press his fingers against the top of his scar at the juncture of his left shoulder. Seto imagined the blades of the axe trap slicing through Mahaado’s flesh, tearing his ba and ka from his body, the Thief King looking on in triumph. Mahaado released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Lifting his head inches above Mahaado’s form, Seto asked, “Has he seen this?”
“What?” Mahaado replied, trying to clear his shifting thoughts.
“The Pharaoh….Atem...has he seen this?”
Mahaado stiffened again. “No.” he said firmly. “And he never will.”
Seto made a noncommittal noise. After a beat, he leaned in to claim those lips again but Mahaado stilled his advance with a firm hand on his shoulder. With his head turned away and his eyes closed, Mahaado simply said, “I thought you despised me.”
Seto looked up, blinking and loosened his grip on Mahaado. “I do,” came the matter-of-fact reply.
“Then why...are we doing this?”
Seto scoffed and immediately began straightening his clothing. "Well then, since you don't appreciate my attentions, I’ll take my leave."
Seto stalked out of the room without so much as a second glance. Mahaado stared after him, completely baffled. He felt the beginning of another headache coming on.