Prideshipping to me is where they are both aware that Atem’s time in the world is limited, so all of their passion and energy has to be crammed into long nights that pour over into mornings. They spend the early hours desperate, exhausted, knee-deep in the electrical current of the other, trying to work out all of their feelings and problems in such a pressured environment as excites them both even more. They sleep in the muted daylight for just a few hours, but they do it together.

Seto measures the time they spend together by the force of Atem’s crushing kiss, the pressure of his moving body, the weight of his hands, the volume of his voice, the gravity of his presence; things he can quantify in his own way for easy remembrance. Atem measures it in the space of Seto’s subtleties, the strength of his grip, the momentum in his actions, the dynamic of their interaction together; things he can appreciate most in the moments he is allowed.

Time is something they are constantly aware of. Mornings hurt the worst; Seto knows that one day he will wake up and Atem won’t be there, he’ll never be there. Atem can feel each morning getting shorter and feels himself unable to be consoling in any way aside from just being with Seto. They know, they know, they know. Seto presses his face into Atem’s collarbone and refuses to open his eyes. Atem kisses him again, and again, and again.

—

Inspired by “Old Souls” and “Time” by Hans Zimmer from the Inception soundtrack. (Appropriate titles for this ship, I think.)