A/N: This is my Manipulashipping (MalikxAnzu) entry for the third round of Computerfreak101's YGO fanfiction contest. FYI, Malik is the good side of Marik. Takes place years after the end of the series. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: YGO is not mine. Never has been mine. Never will be mine.
Summary: The hardest part of a relationship is meeting the in-laws.
Meet the Mazakis
"Stop fidgeting."
"I'm not fidgeting."
"Okay, then what exactly do you call your constant twitching and finger tapping."
"Energetic expression."
"Riiiiiight" Anzu drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the Egyptian across from beside her. "You just don't want to admit that you're nervous."
"I don't have to admit anything because I'm not nervous!" Malik retorted, trying fretfully to arrange his necktie.
"Uh huh." His female companion raised an eyebrow skeptically. "The last time I checked, belts went around your waist."
Malik glanced downward at the leather band he'd attempted to fasten round his throat in place of his tie. "I know that!" Growling and blushing slightly at the amused giggle that issued from Anzu's mouth, Malik tried to extricate himself from the belt's strangle hold on his neck. "I'm fine." He added when he noticed the female's eyes still upon him.
"Sure." Anzu, scoffed, turning away to finish applying her makeup, occasionally glancing upwards at Malik's reflection in the mirror to check on his progress with the belt.
Soon, the blonde had not only tightened the leather strip's hold on his esophagus, but had somehow managed to ensnare his own arms in the device.
Anzu chuckled at the imploring look the familiar lilac eyes, setting down her mascara and walking over to the Egyptian. "Let me do it before you end up strangling yourself!" she sighed in false exasperation, expertly removing the belt from around Malik and freeing the Egyptian's windpipe.
Once the tanned boy had stopped gasping for air, he shot her a rather sarcastic look. "So," he whispered slyly, eyeing the leather strap in her hands with interest "Since when did you get so good with bondage?"
She matched his smirk and adopted a suggestive look of her own. "Oh you know," she murmured, throwing the belt over Malik's shoulder and pulling the boy closer. "Here and there."
She grinned wickedly at his very…interesting expression, before pushing the leather belt back into Malik's hands and turning away. "But we have plenty of time to try that out later. Right now you know to finish getting dressed."
Grumbling something about "being a tease" under his breath, Malik returned to donning his clothing, glancing up occasionally at Anzu as the brunette continued to her grooming.
The silence between them was punctuated only by the rustle of clothing and the sporadic huff of irritation from Anzu whenever the girl's lipstick trailed to far over the line or her mascara smudged sloppily. As his body went to autopilot, running through the motions of fastening his cuffs and tying the laces of his shiny new shoes, Malik's mind was left to wonder about the upcoming ordeal and his earlier trepidation returned.
Anzu noticed something was wrong with the Egyptian when he began fastening his watch around his ankle. "Wrist." She stated bluntly, having finally completed her cosmetic application, turning to save the lilac eyed boy from yet another fashion mishap.
Malik strapped the timepiece in the area designated, his fingers trembling slightly as he fumbled with the clasp, before beginning to fidget uselessly with his necktie.
Rolling her azure eyes at the boy's totally helplessness, Anzu strolled over to him and secured the garment properly. "You'll be fine." She murmured soothingly, her fingers sliding over the base of Malik's tanned neck as she adjusted his collar.
Malik simply snorted in disbelief..
"I really don't see what you're so worried about. What's not to like? You smart."
Malik rolled his eyes.
"You're funny."
Malik actually laughed at that one.
"And you are extremely attractive."
"Now that I can testify to." Malik added with a grin.
"See there's that sense of humor I was talking about." Anzu smiled, planting a soft kiss upon her fiancé's cheek.
"There's really no need to worry. Meeting the in-laws is a traditional part of getting married."
"I tradition I sincerely see no point in."
Anzu laughed again, taking Malik's hand and leading him towards the front door. "But one in which you must participate regardless." The edges of her lips quirked at the look of apprehension upon her love's face. "Don't worry." She added, sealing the promise with a swift kiss. "They'll love you."
As it turned out, Anzu's parents definitely did not love him. They were, infact, the furthest emotion possible away from love when it came to their future son-in-law.
Malik had stood upon the threshold of their home, trying to act as normal as possible while he felt like his legs were about to collapse beneath him from the weight of his nerves, while the couple had sized him up in a matter of moments.
Mrs. Mazaki, an extremely thin woman with absolutely no lips to speak of and a rather haughty expression, had taken one look at his long platinum blonde hair and eyeliner, turned to her husband, and proclaimed him a cross-dresser.
Mr. Mazaki's first impression wasn't much better. The burly, balding man deemed Malik's handshake "flimsy and girlish" and had out rightly asked Anzu whether or the Egyptian used to be a woman.
"Mom! Dad!" Anzu exclaimed half in embarrassment and half in indignation.
Malik had bristled, completely forgetting his previous anxiety as he attempted not to throttle the living daylights out of the pair. They dared call him a woman! He's killed for less in the past! But Anzu's hand upon his forearm halted his tongue from loosing the teeming mass of comebacks his mind had quickly conjured.
Biting the inside of his mouth and forcing out a very strained smile, Malik replied that it was lovely to meet them as well and commented on how charming their home was.
Dinner didn't fair any better than introductions. The Mazakis questioned him over every aspect of his personal life, ranging from his upbringing to his hobbies. Malik answered truthfully and had to grip the edges of his chair to keep from launching himself at the couple as they ridiculed every detail about his person.
"You were raised underground?!?! My, my, no wonder your social habits are so…lacking."
"You ride motorcycles it your spare time?!?! I guess that would explain the ear piercings."
"Egyptian, huh? So you aren't faking that outlandish accent."
"You mean you didn't go to college? No wonder you've gone down such an…interesting career path."
And that was just over appetizers.
With the arrival of soup and the next course, a whole new slew of degrading lines were thrown at Malik from the couple.
They both openly criticized the Egyptian about his job as an international professional duelist, calling his work inconsistent and comparing it to gambling. Mr. Mazaki even suggested that he go back to college so he could get a real job.
The last line made Malik grit and grind his teeth together to keep from retorting, his fingernails gouging holes into the underside of the table. 'I have to make this work! For Anzu!' he repeated the literature like a mantra in his mind. 'For Anzu. For Anzu. For Anzu.'
So he attempted to make nice.
When the main course finally arrived, he gushed to Mrs. Mazaki about the oh so wonderful cooking, until, that is, the woman tartly stated that the family had a private chef. Malik, in an effort to cover-up his blunder, complemented Mr. Mazaki on his hair color, stating that he knew now where Anzu's beautiful locks came from. The man simply glared at him, asking the Egyptian quiet frankly whether Malik was mocking the fact that he was balding.
Why were these people making things so god damn difficult?!?! He'd been polite, he'd complemented them, he'd even consented to let Anzu give him a fucking a haircut the night before so that his usually flowing locks would not be quiet so out of control! And what did he get in return?!
The blonde let out a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. 'For Anzu. For Anzu. For Anzu.' He went back to chanting. As he glanced over at his fiancé, however, he noticed that her face had taken on and furious red tinge and she was stabbing rather viciously at her innocent pieces of broccoli. By the looks of things, the brunette was not enjoying her parents grilling anymore than he was.
Said parental figures had now taken to commenting rather rudely over his attire, which Malik found extremely unfair, seeing as he had worn a suit instead of his usually purple midriff-exposing top and leather pants. He'd even parted ways with his jewelry in the hope of winning higher standings with his soon to be in-laws!
As dessert arrived, the rest of Malik's self-control began to waver. The Mazakis were pawing through his relationship with Anzu, going over every detail from their first date to the dinner they'd eaten together last night. (Mrs. Mazaki scoffed as he told them he'd made microwave lasagna)
As they ate through pies and scoops of ice cream, all the while stabbing degrading Malik's ego with jab after jab to his character, Mr. Mazaki said something that made the knuckles go white from the force with which he griped his spoon.
"You know, Anzu, I don't think I approve of you choice in fiancé." The burly man didn't even acknowledge that Malik was still in the room, voicing his disapproval of him right in his face as his stick of a wife nodded her approval.
And that was the straw that broke the camels back.
Malik stood, his fists clenched and eyes mad with fury. He turned his fiery gaze upon the couple "Well you know what, I don't fucked care if you don't approve of me! I don't approve of you! The entire time I've been here, you've done nothing but insult my character and degrade my relationship with your daughter! You know what I just realized?! I don't care if I have your approval! I don't want it! I'll reject it if you actually give it to me! I'd much rather pull those sticks you have shoved so far up your asses and beat you to death with them! I'm sick and tired of having to prove myself to such pricks!" he yanked the tie from around his neck and threw it onto the table were it landed square in the middle of the cake.
"And I'm sick and tired of wearing that monkey suit! Come on Anzu, we're leaving!" and, taking his fiancé's hand, the Egyptian stormed out of the dwelling, leaving the two mortified Mazaki's behind.
As the cool outside air hit his face, Malik expected to be greeted by an irate Anzu. He knew she would shout, rant and probably hit him. What he did not expect was for a pair of warm arms to encircle his neck and a pair of warm lips pressing firmly into his own.
As they pulled apart, Malik shot the azure eyes a questioning look "I guess this means your not angry with me?" He asked.
"Why would I be?" Anzu replied, pulling him closer "You were brilliant."
It wouldn't be until much later as the couple lay upon their bed cuddling and watching television that the realization would dawn upon Anzu.
"Umm…Malik? You do realize that the bride's family pays for the wedding right?"
"Shit"
Fin
A/N: Umm…review?