Work Text:
April, 2023
Horoyoi - tipsy
It was Friday evening on the Kaiba-Mutou homestead. After enjoying a date night at a revolving sushi bar that had just opened in Downtown Domino City, they decided to forego the arcade, full of noise and chaos and teenagers, and instead head back home to enjoy their private game collection, more drinks, a quiet house, and their cats. Delightfully intoxicated, they eventually made their way upstairs and into bed to wind down.
Atem was silent, drunkenly meandering about the wild areas of Galar on his Switch while Seto read. He was on his stomach, face and left shoulder hanging off the side of the Wyoming king-sized bed.
Seto was halfway through re-reading the Les Halles chapter of Kitchen Confidential when he realized the battle music had been playing for quite some time but no attack sounds accompanied it, replaced instead with deep breathing. He glanced over just in time to see Atem slide off of the bed headfirst, like a clumsy snake, with a thunk. A chorus of sleepy drunk giggles floated up from the floor.
Seto let out a sigh and adjusted his glasses. Atem’s small stature combined with family genetics had made him a hopeless lightweight. The miniscule growth spurt he’d had senior year of high school did nothing to offset this.
A manicured hand reached up to grab the whiskey tumbler sitting on the nightstand, but Seto beat him to it, snatching it away and draining it himself.
“Heeeeeey,” Atem whined. He poked his head up and rested his chin on the mattress. “That was my drink. And you drank my drink. I wanted to drink my drink.” He tried his best to give Seto a menacing glare, but his husband only found it adorable.
“Yes, I did,” Seto replied. He scooted forward on the bed to rest his face inches from Atem’s. “And I’m cutting you off.” He gave an affectionate tap to Atem’s nose. Atem crossed his eyes.
Seto rolled out of bed, set the empty tumbler down on his nightstand, and rounded the foot of the mattress to scoop up his husband into a bridal carry. Atem’s giggling resumed as Seto carried him downstairs to the kitchen.
“I’m so spoiled! How did I get so lucky to have a big strong husband carry me everywhere?” Atem babbled. He looked up at Seto. “Wow, you’re preeeeeetty.”
He was distracted as they passed the game room, where Seto’s beloved collection of whiskey was housed. “Hey, the bar is that way.” He pointed at the doorway.
“Flattery isn’t getting you more alcohol,” Seto scolded. “And we’re married. You’re contractually obligated to find me attractive.” He gently set Atem down in the kitchen, and fixed a glass of ice water.
“Drink,” he ordered, handing it to Atem. Atem grabbed it with unsteady hands and grudgingly complied. Seto kept his own hands nearby in case Atem lost grip of the glass, but he managed to drain most of it without spilling. Seto refilled it and handed it back. Atem stared at it for a few seconds, then took a deep breath.
“I swear if you -“
A flurry of bubbles emerged from the glass of water, followed by a sputtered fit of more drunken giggles.
Seto let out a defeated sigh. But the memories of a distant, volatile past reminded him that things could be much, much worse than this. He’d absolutely take babysitting an effervescently drunk husband over the sober screaming matches they’d had in high school without question, and as he tucked Atem into bed with another fresh glass of water and pulled out the advil in preparation for the potential of a hangover, he found himself endlessly thankful that he and Atem had hung on hard enough through all of the difficulties life had bestowed upon them to get to this moment.