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While no longer a deity and the bringer of the sun, Atem still promptly rose at the break of dawn each day in his second life. Yugi, now a first year university student, would follow a while later. He leisured contentedly in the ghost of his partner’s warmth and scent on the bed before preparing for another day of classes. However, on this day, the morning sun hit Yugi’s eyes from behind the window blinds and when he reached out for the draw string, he felt Atem still beside him, shivering and bundled tightly in the sheets. Today, Yugi would lead Atem into the morning, to the living room couch, and to a warm cup of tea. School would have to wait; his partner just caught his first cold.
Atem had been asked to stay very still as the thermometer placed under his tongue did its job, but his nose seemed to have other ideas—specifically, being an untimely menace. Atem’s eyebrows knitting together and breath hitching unevenly was Yugi’s cue to rescue him from his predicament, and a volley of sneezes immediately followed.
“Wow, bless you. Here.”
Atem sheepishly accepted the tissues offered to him. “Thank you…” he muttered, and blew his nose as quietly as possible. He peeked from his tented hands to notice Yugi staring. A hot blush broiled his cheeks.
“… Yes?”
“Oh—nothing!” Yugi stammered, waving his hands apologetically. “I was just thinking how strange it is to see you sick. What with previously being a spirit, and all.”
Atem made a small grunt of displeasure. “I am not sick.” Yugi quirked an eyebrow at this, the thermometer in hand begging otherwise, but simply gave an impartial, “If you say so,” as he turned to the medicines at his side.
Atem watched him carefully; only when he was certain Yugi’s attention was occupied did he hang his head and sigh. How embarrassing. He pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face in the space between as he wondered what his partner thought of him. It was so much easier before as a specter, knowing a hasty retreat into the Puzzle’s shadows was always within reach when he couldn’t maintain a cool facade. Now corporeal again, Atem felt like an alien specimen endlessly scrutinized by an invisible audience. On better days, the audience in his mind would shake its head disapprovingly at failed attempts to assimilate with Yugi’s world, or grumble something unintelligible yet distinctly negative at his awkwardness. Days like today when he was most vulnerable, however, there was only silence, as if his anxieties were patiently waiting for failure to manifest.
Atem sucked in a short breath and sat up straighter despite a sudden chill that caused his hands to fly to his shoulders for warmth. I’m fine, he mentally asserted to no one.
A nudge at his side startled Atem to attention.
“Now, I know you said you’re not sick, but I think you’d be a pretty cool boyfriend to drink this anyway.”
He eyed the cap of liquid Yugi offered him with suspicion. It was a bright red and looked unpleasantly sticky. Atem’s better senses would usually discourage him from the mystery medicine, but the sweetness with which Yugi crooned “boyfriend” was very convincing. He downed it readily and tried not to gag on the strong flavor; Yugi stifled a laugh through his nose.
“You play dirty, Partner,” Atem croaked, smacking his lips with disgust. “You know I would do anything for you.”
“I know you would! Though, I’m sorry about the taste, I forgot just how bad it is.”
Atem opened his mouth to complain but it hung slack and dumb when Yugi brushed a sweat-slick bang from his face. He shuddered as Yugi then pressed a cold patch onto his forehead and found himself leaning into Yugi’s palm as the chilly sensations rebuked his fever. It felt… good. Were it not for the way Atem’s chest tightened at the thought of letting down his vigilantly-guarded walls, he might have even closed his eyes, and…
“… —tem? Atem? Are you okay?”
Atem blinked into the moment. “What? Yes. I was just thinking, I need to know how Gr– … your grandpa will be, running the shop alone today.” He dabbed at the irritated underside of his nose with a crumpled tissue and sniffled thickly, “I’m supposed to help.”
Yugi’s eyes lingered on him pityingly. “While I’m sure Grandpa will miss your charm and ability to reach the shelves he can’t, he’ll be just fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” He tugged the throw blanket drawn around Atem’s shoulders a little tighter, then dropped his voice to a fond whisper, “And you can call him ‘Grandpa’, too. I mean...” Now it was Yugi’s turn to look away bashfully. His face was obscured by wild blond fringe, but the tips of his ears had turned the same bright red as Atem’s nose. “Um…! L-let’s focus on you feeling better, yeah?”
Yugi rose from the couch after a quick peck on the cheek, promising his return and something else—a game or a snack, perhaps. Not that Atem could hear anything between the congestion and his now thudding pulse. The spot where Yugi’s lips pressed burned hotter than the rest of his face, and he urged his heart to calm itself immediately before his partner returned with more reason for concern.
—
When Yugi did return, it was with a handful of VHS tapes with worn dust jackets. The titles and characters on the covers held no meaning to Atem, but the way Yugi was radiating excitement delighted him. “I couldn’t choose, so I brought several.” He spread the tapes like a fan in his hands, hiding his embarrassed blush. “Uh, I can explain the plots of each, or we can do jankenpon, or—“
“Whichever you like.” Atem’s smile was tired but sincere.
Yugi beamed in return. “A comedy, then.”
While Yugi’s back was turned, Atem took the opportunity to let his eyelids droop. He shook himself awake and looked at Yugi with curiosity when his partner placed a throw pillow on his thighs and patted the space invitingly. “Lay down.”
“I…” Atem hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to get you sick.”
“Other Me, we share the same bed. We’re past the point of worrying about that,” Yugi patted his lap again, smiling warmly. Oh, how that smile made his heart flutter and hair stand on end. No match for his boyfriend’s gentle demand, Atem submitted.
The film, despite being a comedy, was relatively quiet; Atem wondered if Yugi picked it intentionally to help him sleep or if it was just a happy coincidence. The TV’s soft lights and colors washed over the two as they rested on the couch, bathing the afternoon in a cozy feeling. Atem chuckled at some scenes and Yugi carded his hair with the same absent-minded attention as if petting a cat. Characters on-screen chattered and the scene shifted from home to school.
Ah. School…
“I’m sorry to keep you from your classes today,” said Atem.
“Oh, they’ve been super boring, lately, I’m not missing anything. Don’t worry about it.”
Still, Atem very much worried about it. He couldn’t help himself. It just isn’t fair, he thought, how I’m inconveniencing him like this. Yugi was hitting his stride, finally being appreciated by his peers and making something of himself in university; meanwhile, Atem tried not to think too much about his lack of direction in life and how Yugi surely must feel some sort of way about it. The chasm between them gnawed at him, and now here was this… cold. He admitted it bitterly as he rubbed his clammy temple. More than three-thousand years without, he could confidently say he did not miss this particular experience one bit.
“You’re a freshman, but don’t relax. Study hard!”
Atem’s eyes wandered back to the movie. The mother was pleading with her eldest son not to become like his younger brother, a character Atem found sympathetic for not committing any crime besides failing to succeed in an exceptional manner. After all, was it so wrong to be unremarkable? It sounded rather nice, actually, and like a lesser burden than the expectation to be something: a god, a king, a hero, a judge, a rival, a villain. Maybe he needed a break, maybe he was stressed—the movie protagonist, of course, not him. Atem was fine. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Then why did he feel so… inadequate?
Atem fidgeted with the cuffs of his pajama sleeves instead, saving his lip from abuse. These pajamas were dark navy blue and a comfortable cool satin; not the pale blue and starry pair he had grown used to seeing through Yugi’s eyes. Memories of other essentials he was gifted upon joining the Mutou family crossed his mind, and the love he felt to receive them was suddenly replaced by a cold, sinking feeling. He shifted in Yugi’s lap, anxious.
“I don’t know why he can’t do even simple things.”
Atem’s ears pricked. His attention to the movie at this point was minimal, yet this line pierced his consciousness. He inhaled too sharply and curled into himself, coughs rattling in his chest. Yugi’s hand fell to his back and massaged encouraging strokes, then slid back to his scalp once the fit subsided.
“Hey, you alright?”
Atem buried his face into his blanket cocoon and shrugged his shoulders inward to try and disappear more successfully. What could he say? He could lie, say that he swallowed wrong and leave it at that, but he knew better than anyone that his partner was no idiot. The two no longer shared a mental link to communicate their thoughts, but their secrets were still evident to one another. Then, should he tell the truth? And what would that be, that he felt he wasn’t fulfilling his obligations as… as what? Atem was, as he felt, unremarkable. Not a god, not a king, not anything. He was simply a boy—a currently miserable and sick one, at that. Just a boy, unsure of his purpose in this second chance at life. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly and his nails dug into his shoulders.
From the soft folds of the blanket came a dull mutter: “I’ve been awfully troublesome, haven’t I, Partner?”
Yugi’s hand stilled mid-brush. His fingers twisted around Atem’s dark hair and delivered a sudden, hard yank. Atem choked on a surprised yelp and spluttered with coughs. “Partner,” he finally managed, “Why—“
“Why would you say that?!” Atem felt Yugi’s eyes harden on him; he turned his face upward to see his fear confirmed. His partner’s breath came fast and he was clutching at his heart as if it had splintered. “You’re not… How could—“ Yugi shook his head and tried to collect himself. Then he leaned down, took Atem’s face in his hands, and whispered hotly, “What you are, is my Atem. I need you.”
Atem looked back at him dizzily. Yugi gasped, struck by the fierceness of his words, and released his dear boyfriend’s face which was now redder than ever. “S-Sorry, that was really forward of me…”
Yugi was surprised to be yanked by his shirt collar and feel his lips smash against another pair. He lingered a brief moment in the kiss before reeling back, barking with wet laughter. “Gross, Atem! I thought you didn’t want to get me s—“
“I love you.”
Yugi blinked. “Yeah,” he replied, eyes creasing with a soft smile. “You, too.”
“Even if the only money I have to my name is an allowance from Grandpa?”
“Where do you think my savings came from?”
“Even if I have no idea what I’m doing?”
“I don’t think any of us do.”
“Even if—”
Yugi pressed a finger to Atem’s lips. “You should know by now that you’re stuck with me.”
Atem looked up at his partner, basking in his light and warmth, and a small smile crawled on his face. “Be patient with me, I’m prone to forgetting things.” Yugi pulled the blanket over Atem’s head and mock smothered him.
“Ah, so you’re already feeling better.”
Muffled pleas for mercy and half-hearted swats at Yugi’s arms were received as an acceptable penance, and Yugi pulled back the blanket. He stroked Atem’s face fondly; amethyst eyes reflected in ruby, and calmness resonated between them. The pair shared several moments of wordless communication as the now-forgotten movie filled the space with light and sound. Atem exhaled and relaxed his body which he hadn’t realized was so tense.
“I… I am, actually.” He paused, cleared his throat, and glanced to the side with a noticeably flustered expression, “Though, perhaps, not entirely… so…”
Yugi stopped his ministrations at Atem’s brow with a good-natured sigh, dragging his fingers down his eyelids and bid them shut with a soft press. “So… Do me a favor and go to sleep, already! Honestly…!”
Atem chuckled, the tail end of which floating into a yawn. He obediently settled comfortably back into his partner’s lap, pulled the warm throw blanket to his chin, and realized his nerves were finally at ease. Frankly, he felt a bit stupid; of course his partner loved him. They had endured much worse than his own negative self-talk—gods, not even death could deny Yugi. Yugi’s feelings for Atem were the most enduring force in his life, and he was ashamed to doubt that. He swore as sleep started to take him that he would have to contest his anxieties properly when he was in a better state. For now, though, the space they usually occupied was empty, and there instead Atem heard a fading din of cheers from the movie’s finale for the endearingly average protagonist.
And for him, too, he decided.