Disclaimer, notes, and warnings:
Thank you very much, S. A. Bonasi. If you people are wondering where this came from, Bonasi-san put a challenge up on my Livejournal anime challenge community (http:// www.livejournal.com / community / anichallenge / ) which asks for a Dark Malik/Malik story that doesn't have Dark Malik with a separate body, has feelings on both sides, and has Rishid in a decent role.
Oh, yeah, and it has to be PG-13 or below. Yes, the hard part was coming up with a plot that didn't dissolve into me gleefully writing graphic smut. Or graphic violence and death. So be nice... I haven't tried to stick around the PG to PG-13 range for a while now. Oh, that doesn't mean I won't be disturbing for the rating. I have to have my fun somehow.
You don't want to know my mood as I typed this. Let's just say my sister is a bitch, you can't save to disk if it's corrupted, and my laptop, while it allowed said sister to be online while I write, sucks.
I don't own the characters. Rather, they belong to Kazuki Takahashi. Start feeling sorry for the guy, because here it goes!
Need
By Spinny Roses
A light breath ghosted across his lips, causing him to shiver. "Please," he croaked out. "I need you."
A laugh wrapped in darkness made him shudder. "You are me."
Malik lived for revenge, for power. He already had God cards in his deck... more rare cards, and perhaps... he could find that boy. That one boy that kept beating his puppets in a duel... the one that caused their deaths.
A hateful smile crossed his face, tinged by his dark personality. Inside his head was the feeling of a ghostly hand stroking across the inside of his skull in a seductive brush. "Yessss," he could almost hear a voice like his hiss. "Doesn't it feel good?"
Malik closed his eyes, ready to go toe to toe with this manifestation of his hatred. "I do not care who, or what, you are," he started.
"Oh, I think you do." His hand, unbidden, stroked down his body. "You know what I am by now."
"I don't need you," Malik insisted, breath hitching as his own hand teased his stomach muscles.
"But dear Shujinkaku-sama, I am you."
***
Sun was too bright, Malik decided. Especially in Japan. Slowly, he opened his eyes, regarding the room with bleary eyes. At least this time his dark personality had deposited his body in a bed instead of leaving him wherever he was.
But whose room? Malik tried to get his brain to work, slightly surprised that it didn't want to cooperate. Had his dark personality gotten his body drunk? Was this the ever infamous hangover? His body felt a little too good for...
Oh.
That was typical.
Malik stumbled out of the room, and over the awake form of Rishid. "Malik-sama," the older man rumbled, bowing slightly from his sitting form. "I am sorry, but I did not wish to displace you from my bed."
"Mm." Malik suppressed a yawn, trying to think. A shower. Maybe he should have one of those before attempting to interact properly with human beings.
"Malik-sama this," a hate filled voice snarled in his head as Rishid left to make breakfast. "Malik-sama that. Doesn't he have a thought in that handsome head?"
"Shut up," Malik gritted out as he entered the bathroom. "Stop it."
A laugh filled his head, the feeling causing Malik to shiver. "So protective of him. What would you say if I cut that offending tongue out of his head?"
"You wouldn't!"
"It doesn't say anything useful."
Malik slammed his fist against the tiled wall. "I hate you."
"Oh?" A touch against his lips, like a spirit trying to kiss. "Is that right?"
"Don't. Touch me."
"That isn't possible. I am you."
***
"Isn't that shrimp him? Mutou Yuugi, the all-time, top duelist?" Malik's hands twitched on the railing, taking in the tiny form of the spiky haired teen. A wild smile crossed his face as darkness pulled his features into a ghastly look.
"That has to be," his dark personality confirmed. "Wouldn't it be perfect to break him?"
Malik shuddered, feeling the perverse joy his dark half took in the thought. "It would." He sunk to his knees, eyes closing as the feelings overwhelmed him. "Please..."
It was an old game between them. "Please what?" the dark half purred, drawing Malik into his own mind.
"Please..." he choked out as he tumbled into the deep recesses of his mind. "My dark personality, please..."
Inside his mind, the insistent voice was given form. While the features were a little different, they were basically Malik's own. The Dark Malik pressed his hand against Malik's cheek, his lips close. "Say it."
"I need you," Malik breathed, trembling.
With a rich laugh, Dark Malik captured his surface's lips. "I am you."
***
"Malik-sama... is something wrong?"
"Nothing," Malik nearly snapped out, caught up in his own thoughts.
Undeterred, Rishid tried again. "Malik-sama, you have been rather short tempered lately, as well as distracted. Is it... is it your..."
"What are you blabbing about?" he cut in coldly, turning to leave. "Leave me alone."
Rishid reached out, catching his shoulder. "What is wrong?"
"Nothing!" Malik snarled, trying to shrug Rishid's hand off. "Let me go!"
Instead, Rishid took his other hand and tilted Malik's head up. "Is it your dark personality, Malik-sama?"
"I..." Rishid's eyes were hard to look into. "It..." They were so pure. "He..." So searching... loving... "Brother." Malik pulled away suddenly, unable to look into those eyes for any longer.
***
"I need you," Malik growled, pulling his brain's thought of how his dark side should look to his lips.
"I told you," his dark personality whispered, moving his lips over so his words would flit over his ear. "That tongue should be ripped out. It doesn't say anything important." A gentle kiss was placed on his lobe. "You only need me. I am you, after all."
"Only you," he whispered, kissing his dark half's chin.
***
Rishid's eyes were pure, Malik remembered as he stared out over the crowd, bored. How anyone in this world could still have pure eyes was beyond him. Now, that kid...
His hand rested idly on the Millennium Rod, stroking the surface. There were too many people to pick out Mutou Yuugi. Maybe he should go rest instead.
"No," his other half hissed. "I want to see that child's face. I want to see what to break."
"He may not even be awake," Malik noted, yawning. It was fairly early. He turned away, only to meet Rishid. "Oh."
"Malik-sama..." he started, an edge of anger creeping into his tone. "You have never gone out of your way to avoid me like this before. Something is wrong."
"Nothing is wrong," Malik corrected him coldly. "Just things aren't going as expected. If you'll excuse me."
"No." Rishid pulled Malik close. "What happened, Malik-sama? You distanced yourself from your sister... from me..."
"N-n-n..." It was hard to breathe, being held so gently by someone so strong. "Don't..." Malik struggled. "I don't need you! All I need..."
"Malik-sama."
Malik grabbed Rishid's cloak, trembling. "Why do your eyes have to be so gods cursed pure?" he got out around the knot in his throat. "Why do you have to be so close to me?"
The older man shifted his arms slightly, to embrace the blond instead of keep him from running. "You can hate me," he told the teen. "You can not need me. But I will need you, Malik-sama."
***
"What do you think you were doing?" Malik's other half snarled, beating at the edge of his brain. "That man... what were you doing?"
"Don't."
"You need me!"
The blond shook his head. "Need pure, unbridled hatred? No... I need my hatred... but not you."
"You... I need you!"
"No." Malik turned away to look for his deck. "You are just a part of me. Just a part."
"Malik-sama."
He looked over, noticing the older man holding his deck. "Thank you."
Thank you....
The End