"Bakura...what are you do-"
Bakura shushed him. "I thought we'd try something a little different this time. Close your eyes."
Marik hesitated. "The last time you said that, I ended up crying myself to sleep over a flashback. I don't really want-"
"It's different from that different," Bakura interrupted. "Now close your eyes, and stay there for a second." He left Marik to hesitantly following his orders. From the kitchen there was a crack, the sound of something solid tumbling into plastic, then footsteps coming closer.
He returned, pulling Marik's shirt over his head. "You ready?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled.
"Ready for what-" Bakura's lips enveloped his, making Marik jump. His tongue was cold, as if he had been sucking on an ice cube. In a mix of hot and cold, they intertwined, Bakura backing them up and pushing Marik onto the couch. He set the cup of ice beside them, scooping one up in his hand. He placed it on Marik's chest, chuckling under his breath as his partner squirmed beneath him. It began to melt on contact with Marik's warm skin, sliding to the side and snagging on his nipple. Marik let out an unconscious cross between a squeak and a moan as Bakura broke off, smiling seductively.
"You liked that, didn't you."
"Mhm," Marik said, nodding fervently. "Again." Bakura dug into the cup, pulling out two more out. The Egyptian let out a cry that wasn't quite in pain as Bakura pressed an ice cube to each of his pecs. "Oh god," he whispered, his voice cracking as Bakura held them flat against his nipples. The ice melted again, sneaking through Bakura's fingers and sending rivulets of freezing water down Marik's abs. He kissed him again, pale hands pressed to Marik's chest, while a single tan appendage groped blindly for the cup. Deftly, he plucked one out and applied it to the tender skin behind Bakura's earlobe. He trailed it fluidly along the length of Bakura's torso, laughing as his partner's back buckled under the biting cold nipping at his spine. His merriment increased as he lifted Bakura's pants up by the belt loop, pushing the rest of the ice cube to disappear inside the tight denim.
"Dammit Marik!" Bakura yelped, rearing back as he reached wildly for the rogue cube. "You're going to pay for that!" He grasped for the ice, grabbing a handful and shoving it down the front of Marik's khakis. He screamed, knocking Bakura to the floor as his hands did their best to rid himself of the offending substances. The water was soaking swiftly through the material of his pants, and Marik finally resorted to pulling them off entirely. Bakura laughed at him from the floor, grabbing his hand and pulling him down to eye level. "I have to say, this was one of my more brilliant ideas," he said, kissing a disgruntled Marik. "And a pretty creative way of getting you out of your pants."
Marik's face broke into an evil grin. "Touché," he said, raising the entire cup of ice, pinning the no-longer-smiling man to the floor with a cold hand. "Let's see if we can get you out of yours."