Happy Thanksgiving my American readers! I have the joy of being demophobic, so I'm hiding and using my cousin's laptop to type. DEAL WITH IT, DEMY'SWEREWOLF!
I really do love her…
So, theifshipping fluff because I am wearing my Marik cosplay shoes and Demy'sWerewolf is wearing her Bakura shoes. Deal with it.
…line-break…
Marik collapsed face-first on the couch of his and Bakura's shared apartment. Marik had been out job hunting, but he was well known enough as "the bad guy" that work was hard to come by, but the two really needed money.
Bakura gently lifted Marik's head to settle it in his lap. "Wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"Marik…" Bakura sighed, stroking Marik's blond hair. The other sniffled softly. Bakura began humming a lullaby nearly forgotten for his lover, one Bakura could remember his mother singing to him.
Marik glanced up, his violet eyes meeting Bakura's mahogany. Neither said a word, though Bakura continued humming. It was a peaceful moment, a moment where no one existed but them. A moment of serenity and ease.
Bakura cleared his throat. "Should we watch Torchwood?"
Marik jumped up, blushing. "I'll make popcorn. Don't pick 'Cyberwoman.'"
…line-break…
I love those two…