Mew: This is...really old. Really really really old. So...it's weird.

Draiku: Yes it is! -evil grin-

Mew: ...Anyway, I seriously apologize for not updating any of my chapter stories lately. -bows- I'll submit those as soon as possible, I swear!

Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Under His Skin

Marik adored Malik. He would do anything for him, even risk his very existence. Unfortunately, Malik hated Marik's guts. He willingly "killed" him back in Battle City, but little did he know that Marik awoke on the shores of the Nile in his own body instead of dying. Marik knew that Malik lived in an urban area of Egypt now, and he knew his address, but he couldn't go and visit him. Malik would probably just slam the door in his face and never give him a chance to explain his feelings. Marik knew that if he was to ever see Malik again, he'd have to become someone else, someone totally unlike himself. So that's exactly what he did.

Marik stared in the mirror, considering what he could do to change. His plan was quite simple in nature, but complex in doing. He would simply disguise himself so he looked like someone Malik's never seen before, but he'd keep his personality. 'Hopefully,' Marik thought, 'I won't go insane like I did last time.'

It was all because of that one little day that he forgot to take his pills in Malik's body. This caused him to lose his mind, and since he didn't exactly make a good first impression, Malik began to hate him, when in reality he was really a nice person. Heck, even little kids liked him.

"Okay," Marik muttered to himself. He stared at the black hair dye in his left hand, and then stared at the scissors in his right. He sniffed a bit, realizing that he'd have to sacrifice his silky-soft hair. Alas, he was doing this so he could be with the one he loved, and that thought won over the first. He carefully cut his hair, causing it to become short and slightly spiky. He dyed it black and even curled it slightly. Once he was finished with that, he wiped the charcoal markings from underneath each eye using a damp towel. He looked into the mirror.

"Man…I look weird," he decided in a murmur. But that was a good thing. He looked almost nothing like his former self, save the blue eyes. He knew that it would be slightly odd for him to be from Egypt and not have brown eyes, but he couldn't change the color of his irises.

He called upon the power of his Millennium Rod (which he had found on the side of the street, for some strange reason), to get rid of the golden eye on his forehead. When he did so, he realized that his hair became its normal sandy blond color and grew out again. He blinked.

"Well, that's handy," he muttered, wondering how it had happened. He tucked the item into his belt and redid everything.

Finally, he had to choose a name for himself. Something that would intrigue Malik to get to know him. He suddenly got an idea. Malik went by the name "Namu" in Battle City, so why not that? It would interest him, anyway.

Marik nodded to himself and stepped out of his house, tucking the Millennium Rod into a deep pocket. He ambled around town until he saw Malik sitting and drinking at the local coffee shop. He waited by the door until Malik got up to leave. Then, as soon as his hikari walked out of the door, he "accidentally" bumped into him. They both "oofed" and fell backwards onto the ground.

"I'm sorry," Marik said quickly, standing slightly. "Here, let me help you up." He held up his hand and Malik took it, getting up and brushing himself off.

"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going," Malik said.

"Really, it was my fault," Marik insisted. "I wasn't watching either."

"I insist to take the blame," Malik said bowing. Marik instantly decided that Malik was quite polite and dignified, no matter what the situation. He liked that.

"How about we both just take the blame? We weren't watching where we were walking, and we waltzed…uh…'wight' 'winto' 'weach' wother'." Malik chuckled at Marik's attempt to make every word in a sentence begin with "W".

"Alright, I'll agree to that," he said, still laughing quietly. Marik didn't really see what was so amusing about his feeble try to make him laugh. "Sorry, I used to know some guy who always spoke like that. You know, making every word in a sentence begin with the same letter," Malik explained. Marik inwardly gasped. He remembered that Rare Hunter quite well. He chuckled right along with his hikari. "Anyway, what's your name? If you don't mind me asking," Malik asked.

"My name is Namu…Maftet," Marik answered, quickly making up a last name. He was thankful that he chose the name "Maftet" when he heard Malik's response.

"Wow, really? People used to call me Namu about three months ago. And, are you by any chance directly related to the ancient Egyptians?" he asked. Marik shrugged. "Because 'Maftet' is the ancient Egyptian word for 'lynx'. They were guardians of the tombs when the pharaoh went into the next world."

"Interesting! I always wondered why that was my last name," Marik said with a smile.

"Anyway, I'm Malik Ishtar." He held out his hand and greeted Marik.

"Ishtar, you say? I did some research once a few years ago. Ishtar was the Babylon goddess of war and…sexual intercourse," he said. Malik blushed.

"Goddess…? Well, I'm male…but that still makes sense, kind of…" he said, blushing even more. Marik chuckled slightly.

"Is the heat getting to you?" he asked. "Come with me. I know about this neat little place that sells iced tea," he offered.

"Well, I don't want to waste your time or anything…" Malik said quietly.

"Oh, believe me, you won't be wasting my time," Marik said, smiling at him slightly seductively. "My treat," he added. Malik tinkered with the keys in his pocket. Marik knew that he did this whenever he got nervous.

"Okay, if you insist," he said and smiled back. Marik led him to a small shop near his house. They walked in and sat down at a small table in the back. It was quite popular today, almost all of the tables were filled. They ordered one glass of iced tea each, and chatted about their interests.

"Well, I've always found that I liked motorcycles quite a bit," Malik said, taking a sip of his tea.

"Really? Same here. They go so fast and ride so smoothly…" Marik said, daydreaming a bit. Malik chuckled.

"Do you own one?"

"I wish that I did. I'm working for one, although," he replied.

"Heh, the good ones get quite expensive," Malik commented, resting his elbow on the table, then putting his cheek on his hand. He stared at Marik dreamily. Marik noticed this and mentally smiled. He gazed at him through half-closed eyes and smiled.

"Tell me, Malik, did it hurt when you fell out of heaven?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Not as much as it would hurt if you rejected me," Malik murmured. Marik took his hand under the table and squeezed it lovingly.

"Malik, will you go out with me?" Marik said quietly.

"Of course I will, Namu. How could I say no to you?" Malik replied. Marik tried not to jump up out of his chair and cheer, but it was quite a challenge. Malik noticed the light shining in his eyes and chuckled. "I feel that way too. Shall we go to your place or mine so we can yell as loud as we want to in happiness?" he suggested.

"Actually, my house is right over there. Let's go," Marik said with a grin and they left the small store. They hurried to his house and once they were inside, they cheered loudly, hugging each other. Marik knew that they both felt the same way about each other, and that he wanted to feel like this forever.

Of course, someday in the future, if they were to make it together, Malik would have to know, but until then, he wanted to hold the boy in his arms. He and Malik pulled apart gently to look into each other's eyes, then kissed lovingly, and absentmindedly. After a few seconds, they pulled away, a bit confused.

"I think that we just kissed," Malik said with a grin. Marik hugged him tighter and rested his head on the crown of Malik's head.

"I was wondering what that sweet taste in my mouth was," Marik murmured, licking his lips. Malik took in Marik's scent and smiled slightly.

"You're probably the most romantic person I've ever known," he whispered. "I like that." Marik chuckled lightly, stroking the back of Malik's head.

"Malik, I think that I'm in love with you already," Marik muttered.

"And I think that I'm in love with you already, Namu," Malik replied quietly. Marik sighed into his hair and grinned. "Let's sit on the couch," he suggested. Marik nodded and they walked over to the couch, hand in hand. Marik sat down, and Malik sat in his lap and rested on his chest. They smiled at each other and Marik wrapped both arms around him gently. Malik kissed him gently.

"You can stay here, if you wish to," Marik offered.

"Is that really okay with you?" Malik asked. Marik nodded. "Thank you…I get so lonely at times…" Malik murmured. They stayed on the couch until both got tired and fell asleep.

-

The next morning, Marik helped Malik move his possessions from his apartment to his new-found love's house.

"Alright…" Malik said, looking over his old apartment. "That's everything." Marik hugged him from behind and kissed his neck.

"I love you so, so much, Malik," he murmured. Malik kissed him back, closing his eyes in bliss.

"I love you too, Namu," he whispered. They drove back to Marik's house using Malik's motorcycle, and when they arrived, Malik tackled Marik onto the bed, both laughing happily. They paused, Marik staring into Malik's eyes.

"You know, if you're directly related to the ancient Egyptians, shouldn't your eyes be brown?" he asked. Malik blinked.

"Speak for yourself. Your eyes are weird-ish," he said, pouting slightly. Marik laughed.

"I wasn't saying that your eyes were weird or anything, I like your eyes," he said, kissing Malik. Malik chuckled and hugged him, then kissing him passionately. Marik felt Malik's tongue at his lips and he parted them willingly, closing his eyes. He mentally sighed with pleasure as he felt Malik unbutton his shirt and throw it to the side.

Marik suddenly began to panic. He might have changed his hair and face, but the scars from his tomb keeper's initiation remained. If Malik saw them, he would know, and his secret would be out. Then what? He didn't want to lose Malik, not on only their second day together. He managed to not appear nervous as he reached under Malik's shirt and brushed his fingers over the scars. When he felt them, he pretended to look surprised. Malik pulled away, biting his lower lip worriedly.

"What is that?" Marik asked him, raising an eyebrow. Malik sighed.

"I knew that someday you'd find out," he murmured. He pulled off his shirt and rolled off of Marik, sitting up. Marik acted even more surprised.

"Th-that's not a normal scar," he muttered. Malik nodded, hanging his head.

"I-I know. I suppose that you would like to know about it?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. Marik nodded slowly. "I come from a long line of tomb keepers. This prophecy has been passed down from one generation to the next, from father to son. We were separated from the outside world, and it was against family laws to leave our home. The very first time that I felt sunlight on my entire body was when I was eleven, so that could probably tell you a thing or two about our prison, as I like to call it." He glared at nothing. "We lived in a tomb. It was all my father and my mother knew, and their parents never left it. And because we didn't have any true technology, we didn't have a tattooing machine, or whatever it's called. That scar was carved into my back with a hot knife." Marik gasped and cringed slightly. "Then one day, my sister and I broke a long line of traditions by going outside.

"On that day, when we returned, we saw that our father had set a trap so that he knew if one of us broke the rules. Of course, since Rishid was adopted into our family by my mother and he was supposed to stop me from leaving or getting hurt, he was punished for my actions. We found him being cut with a hot knife by my father, tied to a pillar. My father threatened to kill Isis and I, after killing Rishid. After he cut him one more time, Rishid fainted. There's just a big blank area in my memory after that, but I do remember looking at my hands. They were covered in blood, and there was blood on my clothing and face. Tied to a pillar was my father's body, and on Rishid's back there was a square of skin with my father's scar on it. Then a very strange thing happened, besides the obvious. This guy with a turban and a golden key hanging from a cord around his neck appeared and told me that it was the pharaoh's soul that killed my father. I believed him, since I was young and hated the pharaoh for making it tradition to make a ten-year-old kid have to go through a gruesome and painful ceremony.

"About five years later, I found out the truth. It wasn't the pharaoh's soul that killed my father, it was me. Or, at least, a part of me. Apparently, on the day of the initiation, I got so angry and hateful that I actually created another being out of my anger and spite called a yami. I didn't know this until I turned sixteen, and how I discovered it is another story. My yami, who I just called 'Marik', was supposed to protect me like he said he would on the day he gained control of my body. He didn't, and instead he tried to kill me and take over the world. I hated him so much, and I still do, even though he's dead, thank the gods. He almost succeeded in taking over the world, too, but the pharaoh defeated him and spared me, even though I would have gladly gave my life so he could die. Of course, I wouldn't actually die, I'd probably be stuck in the Shadow Realm with him, and that would be equally as bad. Then again, he was part of the Shadow Realm, and part of my anger and such at the same time, but I'm just glad that I survived." Marik frowned slightly. 'But Malik, I would never try to kill you. I wish that I could redo my entire life, from the very beginning,' Marik thought sadly. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner," Malik said, turning around and looking at him. Marik pulled him into a hug, resting his chin on the crown of Malik's head.

"That's alright, Malik. I don't mind. You didn't want to become a tomb keeper, right? So don't worry about it," he said quietly. Malik smiled and nuzzled his neck.

"Thank you," he murmured. Marik chuckled quietly.

"You know, I don't think that I believed in magic until I met you," he replied. Malik chuckled himself, kissing Marik's neck.

"I'm so happy that I'm with you," he whispered. Marik rubbed Malik's back gently, running his fingers over the scars. Malik shivered slightly. Marik cupped Malik's chin in his hand and smiled at him.

"I'm happy that you're happy that you're with me," he mumbled and kissed him. Malik parted his lips and Marik's tongue entered his mouth. Malik tackled him to the bed, their lips still locked. Marik slipped off Malik's pants as Malik did the same. Marik numbly yanked on the window chain and closed the blinds as Malik licked his chest and nipped his nipples.

-

Marik held the sleeping Malik close to his body as they lied in bed. 'That was the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced,' he thought, licking his lips and closing his eyes. Amazingly enough, while they had "played around" in bed, Malik didn't see the scars on his back. Malik opened his eyes drowsily and gazed at him with a shy smile. Marik noticed and smiled back.

"Hey, you woke up," he said. Malik chuckled. He reached up and stroked Marik's face gently.

"You, Namu, know how to make a guy very, very happy," he said. Marik took Malik's fingers in his hand and kissed them.

"As do you, Malik," he replied.

"Promise to stay with me forever?" Malik asked with a smile.

"Past death, even?" Marik asked, smirking. Malik nodded. "Why wouldn't I? You're the greatest person I've ever met," he said. Malik chuckled.

"As are you." He kissed Marik's neck gently. He suddenly blinked. "Hm…you look a lot like Marik, kind of," he murmured.

"I do?" Marik asked, looking confused. Malik nodded.

"Not your hair, but your face shape and eyes…" he said. He suddenly laughed quietly. "I'm just being paranoid. Sorry, Namu," he said with a chuckle.

"That's quite alright, Malik," Marik said with a smile and hugged him. Malik hugged him back, grinning.

-

Marik served breakfast the next morning. He set it in front of Malik, kissing him sweetly. Malik kissed him back, and looked at his food. He grinned.

"How did you know that I liked koshari??" he asked happily. Marik smiled.

"I didn't, but it's one of the only things that I know how to make," he said, blushing slightly. Malik laughed, grabbing a spoon. They ate and chatted happily, and Marik gazed at Malik lovingly. He was so happy with Malik, even if his hikari didn't know who he really was. All that mattered in Marik's life right now was Malik, and he wasn't going to let his worry of his hikari hating him for acting as someone else get in the way.

Malik noticed his gaze and smiled shyly at him. He stood up, washed his plates in the sink, walked over to Marik and stroked the yami's face gently.

"You're adorable," he murmured and kissed him. Marik wrapped his arms around Malik and kissed him back.

"And you're beautiful," he whispered back, his voice laced with true love, as Malik's was. Malik giggled and stroked Marik's back gently. They pulled away for a second and gazed at each other, only to pull into a kiss again. Malik felt Marik's tongue at his lips and he willingly parted his mouth. The two tongues battled each other lazily, and Marik nibbled Malik's lower lip gently. They pulled away, only to breathe, and pulled together again.

"I love you so much," Malik murmured, resting his head on Marik's shoulder.

"I love you, too, Malik," Marik whispered, stroking the back of Malik's head gently.

And that was how it was for them, for the next few years, they stayed together and Malik never discovered the truth about Namu.

-

Malik came home from work one day. His birthday had been just a few days ago, so he was 25 and his lover was 26. He smiled upon entering the house to see Marik asleep on the couch, looking adorable. He sat next to him, stroking his arm gently. Marik opened his eyes lazily to see Malik smiling at him warmly.

"Hey, babe," he said, smiling back. "How was work?"

"Boring, as usual. I had a meeting today, so sorry that I'm back a little late. How was your day?" Malik replied, kissing Marik lovingly.

"Well…I finished up that chapter I was stuck on. Which is good, because my deadline's coming up," Marik said with a grin.

"Oh? And how many chapters do you have left?" Malik asked.

"Two. I know that I can do it by the deadline, too. It'll be simple," Marik answered with a shrug.

"Well, then you'd better stop sleeping on the job if you know that you can do it," Malik said with a chuckle. He slowly lied on top of Marik, kissing him passionately. They pulled away, gazing at each other. "Hey…wanna celebrate the completion of your chapter, if you know what I mean?" he suggested with a wink. Marik smirked.

"Alright, Malik-chan, what shall we do first?" he said slyly.

"I was thinking that we could get out the wine, have a romantic dinner by candlelight, strip down, get in bed, and I believe that you know what comes next, Namu," Malik said, smirking.

"Of course I do, Malik-chan. And of course we'll do that." Malik kissed him passionately again, running his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes in bliss. Marik blinked sadly. He wished the he could do this as himself, not someone else. He wanted Malik to love him, not Namu. "Wait…" he muttered. Malik pulled away.

"What's wrong, Namu?" he asked. Marik sat up, rubbing his temples.

"I'm…I'm getting sick of this, Malik," he said suddenly. Malik gasped.

"Wh-what? B-but I thought that…" he stuttered nervously.

"I'm not sick of you, or our love-making, I'm sick of this." He stared at the ground.

"What? What are you getting tired of?" Malik asked.

"I'm lying to you, Malik. I'm sick of that," Marik said, looking at Malik sadly.

"How…what? You can't be lying to me, I would know!" Malik said firmly.

"You haven't caught on for the past eight years, Malik. You don't really love me, you hate me, in fact," he said softly.

"No I don't! Namu, why would you think that of me?? I would never hate you, I love you with all of my heart!" Malik cried, gripping Marik's shirt.

"You don't love me, you love Namu. And I'm not Namu Maftet, I'm…someone else," Marik said, looking away from him.

"Then if you're not Namu, who else can you be?! You're confusing me! Do you love me, or not?!" Marik saw Malik crying.

"Please, don't cry like that," he murmured, wiping Malik's tears away with his hand. "Believe me, I do love you. But you can't possibly love me. You don't even know who I am."

"Who are you? I-I want to know," Malik whispered, nuzzling Marik.

"Are you sure? If I tell you, then our relationship will end. I know it. But if I don't tell you, then we can go on like this. What do you want, Malik? Your happiness is my number-one concern." Malik bit his lip nervously.

"Why are you acting like this, Namu?! I don't want our relationship to die, yet you're saying that you're someone else, and I want to know who!" he whispered.

"It doesn't necessarily have to die, but it will. Do you want to know who I am that badly, Malik, my love?" Marik murmured into his ear. Malik nodded.

"Y-yes. But don't leave me, please."

"I won't leave you. It really depends if you even want to see my face, or my real one, rather, again." He stood up and walked to a closet, taking out a shoebox labeled "junk" in messy handwriting.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Malik asked, watching Marik set the box on the coffee table gently.

"You'll see," Marik muttered. He opened the box carefully, revealing torn socks, pens, pencil sharpeners, and various other things. He carefully dug through the items to the bottom, and when he felt something cold and metallic, he sighed sadly. He took out the familiar knife, the Millennium Rod. Malik gasped.

"Wh-where'd you find that?! And how can you even touch it?! Your soul should be…well, burning! I told you about what the Millennium items can do to people!" he exclaimed.

"I'm not who you think I am," Marik said simply. He called upon the powers of the Millennium Rod, and suddenly, his hair became its usual blond color and grew out into spikes. The charcoal marks that were once under his eyes reappeared, and Malik gasped again. Marik looked up at him sadly. "I told you. Remember when you said that I looked kind of like Marik? Well, you were right."

"Th-this is just an illusion! You're just kidding around with me! I need more proof!" Malik yelled stubbornly.

"As you wish," Marik said and took off his shirt. He turned around, revealing the scars upon his back. "Is this enough proof?" Malik got up and ran a hand down Marik's back, causing the yami to shiver. He gasped and pulled his hand away, looking at Marik fearfully.

"Gods, it really is you," he muttered. Marik nodded, staring at the floor.

"That's what I told you." He pulled on his shirt and turned around, facing Malik. His stare caused Malik to step back once, shaking. "But…it wasn't all a lie," he said.

"H-how can it not be a lie?!" Malik suddenly yelled. "I loved Namu, not you!! You did lie to me!!"

"Yes, I did lie. But when I said that I loved you, I meant it. I meant it with all my heart. And that was my true personality, by the way. That day that I was released I forgot to take my medication, to tell you the truth. I never meant to try and kill you, I mean it. I would slash my wrists before I did that. Malik…I can be whoever you want me to be, a famous actor, a snake charmer, even a one-legged man from Nigeria, but no matter what I look like my personality will be the same. I do love you, though now I believe that you hate me." Malik glared at him.

"L-leave," he growled. "I don't ever want to see you again. Never. You tricked me into loving you, and I believed you. Get out." Marik gave him one last longing look before turning around and walking out the front door.

"As you wish, my love," he muttered, shutting the door behind him.

-

Marik sat in the bar, drinking a can of beer. He sighed sadly, pushing it away. He wasn't in the mood to get drunk today. Instead, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth, lighting it. Sighing again, he leaned back on the counter.

"Want another one, sir?" the barkeep asked. Marik shook his head.

"No, thank you," he murmured. One man sitting next to him chuckled softly. "What?" Marik asked, noticing.

"You're more depressed than those who usually come in here," the man said. "What's your story?"

"Got dumped. Sort of," Marik said, gazing at the ceiling.

"Oh, really? Same here. Girls are vixens, you can't trust 'em to stay with y' long," the man muttered. "We was together for years, then she dumped me. Just outta the blue, no reason to. Which is why I suspect that she was cheatin' on me."

"Huh. Well, I guess that my lover had reason to kick me out," Marik mumbled. "A big reason, especially since it was out of my own home."

"Hah! Well, a lot of people go to that old run-down apartment a few blocks away from here. They believe that it's lucky, since anyone who goes there gets their lover back within a week or so. You could try it." Marik shrugged.

"I guess that I will, though I don't believe in luck. I believe in fate." He stood, saying good-bye to the man he had chatted with, and walked out of the bar.

Marik walked down the street until he came to the apartment building the man had spoken of. His breath caught in his throat. This was the apartment building Malik had lived in. He walked up the stairs until he came to Malik's old apartment. No one was inside, so he picked the lock and walked in. The bed was still here, along with a table and a few other things in the kitchen that were too heavy or too big to move out. He sat on the bed, gazing at the ground. He noticed something sticking out from under the bed.

Malik's old deck.

He picked it up and looked through the cards. It wasn't really Malik's old deck, but it was his. Malik had kept it. The only thing missing was the Winged Dragon of Ra, which he had lost to the pharaoh in the finals. Otherwise, every single card was here.

Marik set it on the table and wondered why Malik would keep it. He looked out the window and saw the city lights flickering on and off. He turned over, murmuring Malik's name, and wished that suddenly, Malik would appear next to him and forgive him for pretending to be someone else. Of course, that was impossible.

Marik sat up again and looked at a stain on the ceiling. He was about to give up hope when suddenly, he felt warm arms around his torso. He gasped in surprise.

"Please, come back," said a familiar voice. "Please."

"M-Malik?!" Marik exclaimed. It was indeed Malik, the one who he loved, who was hugging him tightly.

"I want you back. I…I miss you," Malik said softly, his voice wavering. "I need you. Please come back, please!" He was now sobbing violently.

"Malik, don't cry, I'll come back, I promise, just don't cry," Marik murmured soothingly. Malik's crying became less intense. Marik felt Malik shaking. He carefully stroked Malik's arm with a hand. "But…why do you want me to come back?" he asked.

"I…I saw your dedication. In your first book. You wouldn't have wrote that unless you really loved me," Malik whispered. Marik remembered his dedication in that book word-for-word. To my one and only love, Malik. He smiled very slightly.

"Do…do you forgive me?" he asked softly. Malik nodded.

"Yes. I finally understood why you did that, too. I…wouldn't have listened to you if you hadn't disguised yourself," he said. "And…and I want you. Not Namu, but you." Marik felt tears fall down his face. Malik loved him. Not Namu, but him.

"You mean that?" he asked in a shaking voice.

"Yes. With all my heart." Malik let go of Marik momentarily to reposition himself on Marik's lap. He and Marik hugged each other tightly, both crying softly.

"I love you, Malik. So, so much," Marik whispered.

"I love you, too, Marik," Malik whispered back. "C-could I kiss you?"

"Of course you can," Marik murmured. They gazed into each other's eyes and finally pulled into a kiss. They pulled away and stared at each other dreamily. Malik smiled, and Marik smiled back.

"How did you find me?" Marik asked.

"I went to the bar down the street to get drunk. Some guy said that I looked kinda like you and asked if I was your brother or something. I asked him where you were, and he said that you might be at this apartment building. I recognized it as the building I used to live in, and figured that you'd be in this apartment," Malik said with a shrug.

"I see. I owe that guy a thank-you. So, we're finally together, you and I?" Marik wondered.

"Yup."

"And we're both happy?"

"Yup. I certainly am."

"I'm so, so…well, happy."

"And technically," Malik said, suddenly smirking. "You're still a virgin." Marik blinked.

"What? How can I be a virgin? We've made love tons of times," Marik protested. Malik shook his head.

"Nope. I didn't make love with you, I made love with Namu. And that was your first kiss, just now, and I'm your first love," Malik teased, grinning at him mischievously.

"You imp," Marik said, grinning back.

"But Namu's in the past. He doesn't matter now. You do, though," Malik said sweetly, reaching up with a hand to stroke Marik's face. He kissed Marik again.

"Thank you, Malik. For loving me," Marik whispered.

"Sure. Wanna get home? We didn't get to celebrate the completion of the finishing of your chapter," Malik said with a wink.

"Really? Of course!" Marik said, grinning even more. Malik chuckled, running a finger down Marik's chest.

"Alright then. Let's go." Marik stood, carrying Malik in his arms bridal-style. Malik hugged him tightly, nuzzling his chest as they made their way back home, together.

End

Mew: Welll...that was interesting. -sweatdrop- Anyway, I've nothing to say except that I really am sorry for not updating. -bows again-

Draiku: You'd better be. -scolds Mew-

Mew: I am, really!

Yoko: Erm. Well then, you might as well R&R! Thank you for reading!