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After a gruelling millennium as an obedient angel, followed by another five centuries as a frazzled archangel, Atem had finally, finally achieved the rank of seraphim.
Since his promotion, Atem was responsible for an inconceivable amount of work. Heaven had a bad habit of pissing off the denizens of Hell, so it fell to Atem to negotiate a ceasefire with the aforementioned denizens. Despite the fact that his predecessors had been baiting them for who knows how long, apparently it was his job to make amends.
To his credit, Atem had successfully negotiated a meeting with the archdevil Bakura himself. They were to meet in person tomorrow in this very office. A ceasefire was on the agenda.
Atem could not be more stressed.
His wings were wilting with anxiety, his beautiful golden plumage landing in scattered piles across the marble floors. The enchanted ceiling was dark and rumbling with thunder, echoing his mood. Given his state, he had barred everyone from his office while he aggressively paced and fretted.
Unfortunately, he could not refuse a messenger. When Mokuba sheepishly poked his head in, Atem permitted it, but he could not erase the scowl on his face.
“Well?” Atem demanded. “What is it?”
The messenger cowered beneath Atem’s stormy gaze, his wings shrinking behind his back. Mokuba stuttered, “It—It’s the cherub, your Grace. He says it is a m—matter of great import.”
Ah, yes. The cherub.
The bane of Atem’s long, unending existence.
Atem rolled his eyes heavenward (or more heavenward) and said, “Please inform Yugi that I have far too much on my plate to cater to his whims today.”
“Apologies, your Grace. I was told t—to press the matter most fiercely,” Mokuba squeaked out. “He said it could not wait.”
Atem knew, without a doubt, that Yugi was exaggerating. He was just another cupid fledgling and hardly worth the time of a seraphim. Yugi was but a kitten demanding the attention of a lion.
Unfortunately, Atem had an appalling weakness for kittens.
“Fine. I will go to him,” Atem said crossly. “Leave me, messenger.”
Mokuba fled the scene. Atem took a moment to berate himself and curse Yugi to the Ninth layer, then he straightened his robes and swept out of his office.
Atem found Yugi in his usual spot, up high on a balcony overlooking the Gardens. The space was surrounded by potted roses that flowered for all eternity, filling the space with an overpowering fragrance. Unlike the pristine white floors that decorated Atem’s office, the balcony was constructed of fluffy clouds that squished with every step he took. Atem impatiently flapped two of his six wings to carry him through the air, bypassing the silliness entirely.
Yugi spotted him at once. “Atem!” he said cheerfully. “I hope my messenger found you well?”
“Not in the slightest,” Atem said curtly. He pulled up a large, eccentric stool — constructed, of course, from rainbows — and took a seat opposite Yugi.
He regarded the cherub with mild annoyance. Yugi was a handsome angel with tiny, pale pink wings that never seemed to stop fluttering. His cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of red, and his shimmering violet eyes were overflowing with excitement. His ivory skin was complemented by the loose robe he wore, which looped around his neck and revealed two delicate shoulders.
As pretty as Yugi was, Atem’s infatuation was a mystery to him, even to one as omniscient as himself. For one, Yugi showed no respect for Atem’s higher position, and two, he was always so chipper. It irked Atem beyond compare.
The cursed cherub was utterly adorable.
It was sickening.
Yugi smiled in the face of Atem’s displeasure. “It’s great to see you.”
“Yes, yes, and the same to you,” Atem said flatly. “What is the emergency?”
“So.” Yugi lowered his voice conspiratorially. He leaned in closer and Atem inhaled a pleasant aroma, something like vanilla and honey. “Ryou is making his move tonight.”
At that moment, Atem’s mind fell completely silent. Then, an infuriated scream reverberated within his skull.
“Ryou again? Really?” Atem said indignantly. “Yugi, do you have any idea how busy I am?”
“I know, I know!” Yugi said sheepishly. “But look at this!”
With a simple wave of his hand, a decorative bowl materialised between them. It drifted down to land silently on the table, cerulean water sloshing against the sides, but not a drop was spilled. Yugi ran a finger around the edge of the bowl and the water swirled, light beginning to emanate from the centre.
An image revealed itself: the one named Ryou, who was standing outside some sort of jewellery store. His hair blended in with the snow on the pavement, his alabaster skin illuminated by vibrant Christmas lights.
“He bought a ring!” Yugi said, almost squeaking with joy. “An engagement ring!”
“Yugi, I do not care about Ryou,” Atem said, scowling.
“Aw, Atem! I know you don’t mean that. I mean, he used to be in your garrison!” Yugi said, his bottom lip protruding in a way that was undeniably distracting. “Of course you care.”
“Yugi, I manage seven hundred and seventy-seven angels,” Atem said impatiently. “Ryou was one of many. When he developed feelings for that human, Marik —”
“Malik.”
“— he forsook his wings and abandoned my garrison. I replaced him almost immediately.” Atem crossed his arms over his chest. “Ergo, I have no interest in following his romantic pursuits.”
Yugi smiled cheekily. “It’s okay, Atem. You can admit it — you love gossip as much as I do.”
Atem grunted noncommittally.
“I mean, why else would you be here?” Yugi challenged.
“Why, indeed…” Atem muttered.
Yugi sat back proudly in his seat, as if he had uncovered Atem’s deepest secret. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna pop the question tomorrow. Just picture it: Christmas Eve, a home-cooked meal, a Hallmark movie…”
“I’m swooning from here,” Atem said dryly.
Yugi’s gorgeous eyes actually shimmered with delight. He gasped softly and said, “Ooh, I just remembered! Seto owes me a favour! I think I can convince him to conjure a snowstorm. A gentle-ish one. They’ll have no choice but to cuddle up under a blanket for warmth.” Yugi sighed dreamily. “It’ll be so romantic.”
“I’m sure.”
“Don’t be such a grouch,” Yugi chided, giving his arm a playful shove. Atem’s insides swooped. “Seriously, you’ve been single for — what, a millennia? Longer? You could learn a thing or two from me. Romance is my thing.” He winked. “Comes with the cherub territory.”
Atem considered him for a moment, lips pursed. His mind turned slowly, until eventually he said, “Perhaps you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” Yugi said, tossing his blond bangs from his face.
Atem nodded vaguely, an idea forming in the far corners of his mind. He frowned at the bowl, watching the image of Ryou slowly fade.
“Anyway, what else has been happening?” Yugi asked happily. “What’s my big bad seraphim up to these days?”
My seraphim.
Atem fought the urge to preen, or do something outrageous like fluff up his wings in a mating call.
He eyed Yugi pertinently. “If you must know, I am in the midst of negotiating a peace treaty with Hell.”
“Wow.” Yugi whistled appreciatively. “Darn, you must be busy!”
Atem didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
Christ Almighty, Yugi was just a bit oblivious, wasn’t he? Beautiful, sweet, and completely daft.
“Yes,” Atem said with a small, bemused smile. “To put it mildly.”
The following day, his meeting with the archdevil drew ever closer. Atem ran through every possible conversation and scenario he could come up with, trying to predict how his meeting with Bakura might pan out.
However, Mokuba soon arrived with a stricken expression. Atem assumed it was another poorly timed summoning from Yugi, until he noticed the serpent coiled tightly around Mokuba’s arm.
“A messenger from Hell?” Atem asked in bewilderment. “That devil and I are scheduled to meet in an hour. What’s this about?”
“Apologies, your Grace, but I don’t speak Infernal,” Mokuba said as he waved his arm frantically to try and dislodge the snake. “I don’t know what it’s saying.”
Atem approached Mokuba and wrangled the serpent into submission, holding it aloft behind its head. It stuck out its tongue, eying him with cool, ebony eyes. It delivered its message through a series of long hisses.
Bakura wanted to reschedule. He offered no reasoning whatsoever. If anything, Atem thought the hisses sounded a bit smug.
With a frustrated huff, Atem tossed the serpent aside. It gleefully turned into smoke, zipping back through the door to return to the bowels of Hell.
“Rotten devils,” Atem said furiously. “Of course he wants to reschedule. Will you send a dove and tell him to meet with me tomorrow?” He smirked slightly. “Send Mana. She’s a terribly sassy dove.”
“Yes, your Grace!” Mokuba grinned as he made a hasty exit.
Well, Atem’s schedule had opened up considerably. He had no appointments today given he’d set aside so much time to meet with that bastard hellspawn. An entire day wasted!
However, that did mean he could enact his plan.
It was not an important plan; not even close. It had nothing to do with the archdevil whatsoever, and it was certainly not something a seraphim should be doing in their spare time, but —
Well… it concerned Yugi.
So.
The cherub would undoubtedly call for him soon. Today was meant to be The Day, after all, if his predictions about Ryou were to be believed. Yugi would be overflowing with excitement, desperate to share the news of Ryou’s engagement.
Atem’s personal rule was that he would never be the one to initiate a meeting with Yugi. It would not be proper for an angel of his rank to go chasing fledglings. What a preposterous notion indeed! Besides, Mahaad would tease him about it endlessly (although he already teased him a great deal).
No, he would not go to Yugi today. Instead, when the time came, Atem would turn the invitation on its head — Yugi would come meet him here, in his office.
All he had to do now was set the stage.
He recalled Yugi’s comment from yesterday; what he deemed the epitome of romance — Christmas Eve, a home-cooked meal, and a Hallmark movie.
Atem could manage that. It was, after all, already Christmas Eve, so he needn’t bother with any sort of time-altering magic. A home-cooked meal, though… that was trickier. Angels had no need to consume food — it was gluttonous, if anything — and Atem possessed no culinary skills himself, nor did Heaven have any need for personal chefs.
Fortunately, Yugi had quite a strong sweet tooth. Desserts were plentiful this time of year — on Earth, at least. Acquiring something freshly baked and obnoxiously sweet would suffice.
He sought out Mahaad, who stood vigil outside his chambers as per usual.
“Your Grace,” Mahaad greeted.
“Mahaad, I must ask a favour of you.”
“Indeed?” Mahaad said, intrigued.
“I… I need you to—” Bravely, Atem pushed aside his embarrassment and said, quite eloquently, “—ToBringMeSweetsForYugi.”
A delighted smirk lifted Mahaad’s lips. “I’m sorry, your Grace. Could you repeat that?”
Atem scowled. “You heard me.”
“I did, just barely.” Mahaad’s grin widened. “Humour me, your Grace, and say it again. I would hate to have misunderstood.”
Did no one on this cursed plane respect Atem’s authority?
Atem folded his arms crossly and said through gritted teeth, “Go to Earth and bring me something sweet for Yugi. Something edible, obviously, and something… decadent. And be quick about it.”
Mahaad asked cheerfully, “But what type of sweets, your Grace? Candy canes? Cupcakes? Tiramisu, perhaps?”
“I do not care what kind,” Atem said, his cheeks burning indignantly. “Just… use your best judgement.”
Atem turned back to his office, then paused mid-step.
“He favours pastries,” Atem bit out, then slammed the door behind him.
Hours later (an eternity, really) Yugi appeared before Atem. He wore his usual set of white and gold robes, as well as an excited smile that brought out the radiance of his violet eyes.
“Hey!” Yugi said brightly. He gasped softly as he took in Atem’s office.
Atem had meticulously redesigned his space. The ceiling now offered a view of the night sky, complete with Earth’s aurora borealis — Yugi’s favourite phenomenon. Atem’s desk had been transformed into a cosy wooden table with luxurious red and gold dining chairs. Candles floated all around them, bathing the room in warm light.
Atem had truly outdone himself, if he did say so himself.
“What’s all this?” Yugi asked, awed.
“Well, it is Christmas Eve,” Atem said defensively.
Wait, why was he being defensive? He had done this for Yugi. Idiot seraphim!
“I am… celebrating, I suppose,” he said, forcing his voice into something neutral.
“Really?” Yugi said sceptically, as he stepped further into the office. “You’re not usually one for holidays.”
“I can be festive, on occasion.”
“Ha!” Yugi actually laughed. “I’ve known you for a long time, Atem. You don’t do festive. But,” he added with a grin, “I’m not complaining! I like it a lot! Festive suits you.”
Atem tried not to melt with relief. He mostly succeeded.
“Good. Well,” he said, gesturing stiffly to the dining chairs. “Come, have a seat.”
“This is so elaborate,” Yugi said, gazing wide-eyed at the room. He settled into his chair, his tiny wings slotting into the seat’s back grooves. “Thanks for inviting me! I never visit this side of Heaven.”
“It’s quite a journey from the Gardens,” Atem said agreeably. He settled into his own chair, grimacing slightly as he tried to fit all six of his wings into their designated grooves.
“Sure is.” Yugi sniffed delicately at the air. “What’s that? It smells heavenly. Pun intended,” he said mischievously.
For once, Atem allowed the pun. He was far too nervous to voice any protests.
He made a simple gesture with his fingers and two plates materialised on the table, offering them a selection of freshly baked treats: caramel slices, almond croissants, and lemon tarts.
“Holy shit!” Yugi said, then clapped his hands over his mouth.
Atem regarded him with an unimpressed stare. “Really, Yugi?”
“Whoops,” Yugi said with an airy laugh. “Sorry, I’m just — ahhh, I’m excited! I haven’t eaten anything like this in decades!” He sighed dreamily as he took a hefty bite of a slice. “Ohh, it’s as good as I remember…”
An embarrassingly fond emotion surged in Atem’s chest. He stuffed a croissant into his mouth to avoid blurting poetry. The pastry was warm and delicious, and even Atem could admit that Mahaad had chosen well.
“It is to your liking, then?” Atem asked quietly.
Yugi swallowed audibly and offered him a brilliant grin. Flecks of sugar decorated his cheeks. Atem fought the urge to lean across the table and taste it himself.
“It’s amazing! Thank you!” Yugi said happily. He paused, eyes widening with realisation. “Wait, is this a Christmas present? I didn’t get you anything!”
Atem waved a hand carelessly. “No need. Your company is pleasant enough.”
Yugi grinned bashfully. “Aww, you big softie! That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He winked slyly. “Your company is pleasant enough, too.”
Atem bowed his head, trying to conceal a smile.
Yugi chatted away as they tucked into their meal. Surprisingly, he made no mention of Ryou. Instead, he spoke of cherub gossip, of background Heaven politics, and his opinions on both. Atem watched him quietly, drinking in his enthusiasm and exaggerated hand gestures.
What a ridiculous creature, Atem thought, containing his besotted sigh.
Once the plates were completely empty — even Atem’s, who had allowed Yugi to commandeer it at some point — a new wave of nerves sloshed within Atem’s stomach. He gave a small hand gesture to clear the table and then silently commanded a projector screen to descend from the ceiling.
“Oh man, that caramel slice? Divine! And I don’t say that lightly.” Yugi patted his stomach in satisfaction. He blinked at the arrival of the enormous screen. “What’s this?”
“I thought a movie was in order,” Atem said as smoothly as he could manage.
Atem made a series of more complex hand gestures in order to shift the furniture around, converting their two chairs into a single squishy loveseat. Their sides were now pressed together comfortably (and intentionally). Atem snuffed out some of the candles, crafting an undeniably moody atmosphere.
“What would you like to watch?” Atem asked.
“Are you serious?” Yugi exclaimed. “An actual movie? This is awesome!”
“Yes, although I have no clue what constitutes a Hallmark movie,” he said, emphasising his word choice. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Oh man, I do like a good Hallmark movie, buuuut I think you’ll smite me if I actually make you sit through it,” Yugi chuckled. “Let’s go with Die Hard, eh? It’s Christmassy.”
“Very well.” With a hand wave, the movie began to play.
The volume was not overbearing; quiet enough they could still speak, if they wished. Atem could tell that Yugi wanted to say something, because he was vibrating at Atem’s side, utterly restless.
Yugi lasted a full ten minutes before he blurted, “Agh! Sorry, I can’t get into this. I’m so distracted.”
Atem paused the film and granted Yugi his full attention. “What troubles you?”
Yugi squirmed. He tugged at his robes, fingers curling into the bunched fabric in his lap. He inhaled deeply, then released a long, anxious sigh.
Atem’s chest jolted with hope. Was this the moment? Would Yugi confess his shared feelings? Atem had done everything right. Christmas Eve, a decadent meal, a not-quite-Hallmark movie —
“Ryou didn’t propose!” Yugi cried.
Atem blinked. Once, twice.
Right.
“Is that so?” Atem said, leaning back in his seat, angling away from Yugi. His wings drooped, feathers folding into the plush cushions.
“Yeah…” Yugi sighed dramatically. “I don’t get it! Everything was going perfectly, ya know? They’d had a great meal, the movie was cheesy and romantic, they were bundled up all close under a blanket…”
Shit. Atem had forgotten the blanket.
“I thought he was about to do it. There was this moment when they just… looked at each other,” Yugi said, gazing at Atem soulfully. “And I mean really looked at each other.”
Atem’s brow pinched. Hesitantly, he met Yugi’s stare.
“It was the perfect opportunity to pop the question,” Yugi said, a sweet smile tugging at his lips. “To share a real, heartfelt kiss. To…”
Yugi trailed off, his cheeks slowly turning pink. Atem waited, unable to breathe.
“To seize the moment,” Yugi whispered.
Atem’s heart thrummed in his ears.
This! This was it! This was Atem’s chance! This had to be the signal, right? Surely?
Emboldened, Atem leaned in slowly. As he drew closer, he felt Yugi’s breaths brush softly over his lips. Atem’s eyes fluttered closed, his heart racing…
“A—Atem?” Yugi squeaked. “Wh—What are you doing?”
Atem retreated so suddenly he almost gave himself whiplash. He cleared his throat loudly and stared at the opposite wall, his face burning crimson.
“Nothing at all,” Atem said, stilted. “So, Ryou—”
“Wait, wait, hang on!” Yugi said, trying to catch his gaze. Atem responded by staring resolutely at the ceiling. “You tried to kiss me just now!”
“Did I?”
“Yes, Atem!” Yugi said exasperatedly. “You can’t just pretend that you didn’t!”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Yugi huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Atem mirrored his position, a troubled frown descending over his brow. Atem was buzzing with discomfort now, and really, how could he be so foolish?
How had he misread the situation so appallingly?
“You like me,” Yugi declared.
Atem scowled at the ceiling. “What gave it away?”
“Uh, you trying to kiss me, obviously.”
Atem directed his glare at Yugi then. He gestured to their surroundings and said, “And what about everything else?”
“Huh?” Yugi blinked in genuine confusion. “What do you mean?”
“The meal, the movie?” Atem’s gestures became more erratic. “It’s Christmas Eve? Did you not tell me only yesterday that this was the sort of romantic tripe I could learn from you?”
Realisation dawned on Yugi. “Oh. Oh! Are you wooing me right now?”
“I am not wooing,” Atem said snippily. “I am… courting.”
“Ah.” A smile lifted Yugi’s lips, brightening the entirety of his face. “Right. Courting. But Atem, I — I had no idea you liked me. I thought you tolerated me, at most.”
“Yes, well, as it turns out,” Atem said, inclining his head. “I am painfully fond of you, Yugi.”
Yugi’s gaze softened. “I had no idea. How long?”
“Hm?”
“How long have you felt this way?” Yugi clarified.
“Since the fall of Babylon.”
Yugi’s eyes widened comically. “Since 540 BCE?!”
“Indeed.”
“That’s…” Yugi was momentarily lost for words. “That was around the time that we met, right?”
Atem tried not to squirm beneath Yugi’s scrutiny. His entire body was burning with embarrassment.
“Indeed,” he said again, stiffly.
“Wow,” Yugi breathed. “You really played the long game, huh?”
“Yugi,” Atem scoffed, both irritated and hurt in equal measure. “If you aren’t going to take this seriously, then perhaps you should go. You clearly do not return my affections. So, if you would...”
Atem suddenly stood up, making for the door, but Yugi snatched his wrist, keeping him close. Atem paused but refused to meet Yugi’s gaze.
“Sorry,” Yugi said softly. “I’m normally better at this. Sit down, Atem.”
Atem couldn’t bring himself to move. His walls were firmly constructed now, shielding him from any further pain. He hated these unpleasant emotions; the kind that made him feel fragile and weak.
Eventually, Yugi got to his feet and reached for Atem’s other hand, angling them so they could face one another. Atem resolutely stared over Yugi’s shoulder. Yugi held both of his hands, squeezing.
“Whenever I’m around you, I, um, blabber. A lot. I’m usually kinda good with, uh, words, but you make me all… nervous.” Yugi huffed. “You’re — I mean, I just assumed you were miles out of my league, to be honest.”
Atem regarded him with a neutral expression. “Is that so?”
Yugi nodded jerkily. “It’s just… You’re this amazingly driven seraphim who climbed the celestial ladder to get to where he is today, and I’m just some cherub who’s got his head in the clouds.” A smile curved over Yugi’s lips, something small and shy. “But I, uh… I mean, there’s a reason I kept inviting you out to the Gardens, Atem. I like talking to you. Being with you.”
Atem waited, unable to breathe.
“I…I like you a lot, actually,” Yugi admitted, his face turning pink.
The incessant, unpleasant buzzing in Atem’s skull fell quiet. Cracks began to appear in his walls.
“Truly?” Atem whispered.
“Yeah,” Yugi said, giggling breathlessly. “It’s kinda crazy how much I like you, actually. I—”
Atem dragged Yugi in and kissed him at once, unable to wait another second. Their teeth knocked together just slightly, but Yugi didn’t seem to mind. He smiled against Atem’s lips and angled his head, allowing them to kiss more comfortably, more sweetly.
Atem drew back then but it was only so he could lay a hand on Yugi’s lower back, allowing him to dip Yugi into another kiss. All six wings flared out to maintain his balance. Yugi laughed against his lips, arms wrapping tightly around Atem’s neck for support.
When they righted themselves, Yugi fitted his hands to the slopes of Atem’s jaw. He touched Atem with reverence, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
“Now that,” Yugi said, his smile radiant, “was straight out of a Hallmark movie.”
There were far too many devils in Atem’s office.
And by too many, he meant one.
Bakura, the smug bastard, stood on the opposite side of Atem’s desk. His skin-tight leathers and curved horns contrasted appallingly with Atem’s marble office. Atem had not deigned to conjure him a chair of his own, hence the reason that Bakura was standing. Although, he doubted Bakura minded. The archdevil seemed rather content towering over him.
“Well?” Bakura said haughtily. “I came all this way just for you, faerie. I can only assume this is some elaborate scheme to trap me here and torture me for information, so I have plenty of Hells’ troops on standby.” He inclined his head with an arrogant swish of his unkempt hair. “I can summon them with a snap of my fingers.”
“I have used no binding circles to pin you here,” Atem said flatly. “I have cleared my office of all divine symbols. I’ve ensured there are no traces of salt or silver, and I have posted my guards elsewhere to ensure we are quite alone. If I intended to trap you here, you would already be bound.”
“So you say,” Bakura said, sounding bored.
Atem swept out his arms in a grandiose gesture. “Are we going to discuss a ceasefire, or are we going to snipe at one another?”
Before Bakura could respond, there were rapid footsteps approaching Atem’s office. Immediately, Bakura’s leathery wings rose in defence as he bared his fangs. Claws sprouted from the tips of his fingers.
Almighty Father, Atem despaired, if Mokuba dared to interrupt after his explicit instructions not to —
“Atem! It happened!” Yugi exclaimed, bursting into his office. He was completely breathless, as if he’d sprinted all the way from the Gardens. “Ryou proposed! He finally did it! He—!”
Yugi choked on the rest of his sentence. Atem stared at him, utterly aghast. Bakura eyed Yugi with an unimpressed, raised eyebrow.
“Yugi…” Atem managed. “Now is not the time, sweetheart.”
“Right,” Yugi said, wincing. “I’ll just… go.”
He scurried away, the door slamming shut behind him.
Bakura snorted. “Cherubs, am I right?”
Anger flared in Atem’s gut. He smiled beatifically and said, “If you speak ill of my lover, I will smite you where you stand.”
Bakura raised his hands in supplication, a sly grin spreading across his face.
“Duly noted,” he purred.