With an awkward jolt, Bakura rose from his dream. He felt immediate disappointment. So he wasn't really hugging Marik. He hadn't just killed Melvin, and he was lying on the couch he and his Egyptian friend had lugged off the street.
"Oh, bugger." he sighed to himself. Glancing at the digital clock, the time of 2:45 a.m flashed at him in bright red. From the other room, he heard Marik's mattress creaking.
Since no light drifted from the window,(It was technically a skylight, since they lived underground) Bakura assumed it was just past midnight. He growled, angry at the fact he could be in comfortable sleep, but instead his mind insisted on keeping him awake. The albino swung his feet over the side of the couch, stumbling for balance as he stood. Bakura figured he might as well eat something.
After reaching their pathectic excuse of a kitchen, Bakura rummaged around the cuboards in search of food. The thief spirit was out of luck, seeing as Marik hadn't been shopping in days. The Egyptian had an odd obsession with a video game called 'Slender', which was apparently based off of their creepy neighbor. Bakura shuddered, the thought of the faceless man was simply too much for him to handle at two in the morning.
After opening the last cuboard, Bakura discovered a small box of poptarts. And, thank Ra above, there was one little packet left! Tearing desprately at it, the thief spirit was comepletely oblivious to the footsteps behind him.
"WILL YOU KEEP IT DOWN?!" an obnoxiously loud voice cried from behind him.
Leaping in shock, Bakura felt the Poptart packet slip from his fingertips. It made the cringe worthy sound of crunching plastic as it hit the floor. The albino frowned, It had probably broken inside the wrapping.
"Jeez, you're so loud!" Marik whined from behind him, "Some of us are trying to sleep!"
Bakura turned his poofy-haired head around to glare icily at his (underground)house-mate. Marik was only wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants, all make-up was off of his face, and his arms, ears and neck were free of the jewelery he often wore. It was an amusing sight, and Bakura found himself swallowing down laughter.
"You're a bit of a hypocrite, you know." he muttered, still choking down his laugh. "Scared the bloody shit out of me!"
"Bloody shit?" Marik repeated scrunching his nose in disgust, "You know that your British slang is just getting ridiculous now, right?"
The albino thief rolled his eyes, and bent towards his poptart. When he had scopped it back up, he was met by two large violet eyes. Marik was puppy-dog-pleading him, now.
"Marik, no. This is my poptart!" Bakura grumbled, closing the cuboard door. He knew it wasn't much use denying the Egyptian, for Marik was extremely stubborn.
"Aw, why not Bakura?" the blonde pouted, "There are two poptarts in that thing, right? So we share! I'll even take the broken one."
Bakura shook his head and glared, "No. These potarts are mine."
"But Bakura-" Marik started.
"Mine." The thief added with extra menace.
Marik sheepishly placed both his palms up as a sign of surrender. Bakura smirked, walking back towards the couch. With a swift leap, he was back in cushion filled paradise. Though it wasn't long before Marik leaped onto his lap, causing an unintellegibale 'UMPH' sound to escape his lungs.
"Wh- What the bloody Hell are you doing?!" Bakura huffed, struggling underneathe the Ishtar's weight. Which, truthfully, wasn't that much. But that gave him no right to sit on Bakura!
Marik rolled his eyes, "Don't question me, fluffy!"
The Egyptian leaned back, and his blonde hair smacked against Bakura's face. The spirit spluttered to get the bits of astray hair out of his mouth, he must've sounded funny, because Marik cackled in amusement.
"Ge'roff!" Bakura odered, though it was muffled by Marik's hair.
"No way, Bakura! This is waaaaay too fun!" chirped Marik. He shook his head to emphasize that he wasn't going to move, though it only resorted in Bakura getting whipped in the face.
How on Earth could this guy be so energetic at- Bakura struggled to glance at the clock- Three in the morning?!
"Marik," he gritted his teeth, "Please get off of me."
That only caused an eruption of laughter to bubble out of the blonde's throat. He didn't even need to tell Bakura why he found his choice of words funny, because Bakura was laughing, too. Well, if you counted his gruff little chuckle as 'laughter'.
"Okay, okay, I'll move." Marik giggled, he rolled off Bakura's lap and onto the free couch cushion. Bakura poked his toes at the tanned boy's ribs, revenge for previously making him loose his breath.
Marik grabbed Bakura's foot and proceeded to massage it. Back in his days in the tomb, he had apparently learned some stress relieving techniques, foot massages seemed to be included. And Marik's hard work paid off, as Bakura let out a satisfied purr.
"Ra, Bakura! You're so tense in your feet!" Marik rubbed his thumbs around the albino's toes, "It's like kneading at a rock! "
Bakura only rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the arm of the couch. Marik continued to play with his feet, causing a few unwanted moans of pleasure to try to escape his mouth. Luckily, Bakura had good self control, and he ate his poptarts to muffle any sound, just in case. It felt nice, the steady pattern of Marik's fingers rubbing circles into his foot. Almost calming. Within minutes, the thief spirit had drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
"Bakura?" Marik blinked, noticing the steady rise and fall of his friend's chest. Had he really fallen asleep on him? How rude! Marik ought to have taught him about being polite, but upon looking at Bakura's sleeping expression, he thought otherwise.
"Sheesh, you got all tuckered out after trying to chase off our creepy neighbor." Marik mused, "Though you have to admit, Bakura, that guy is F to the R to the Eeeeeeeaaaaky! Right? Oh yeah, you're asleep."
It was a most curious sight, Bakura with his guard down. He looked almost, dare Marik boldly go where no man had gone before, peaceful ? No, impossible. The limey fruitcake was never peaceful. That was Marik's fault, so he should know, after all.
Marik gave Bakura's foot a good poke. No reaction came from his sleeping friend. He grinned, wickedly, at the thought of doodling on Bakura's face. Maybe he'd give him a moustache! But, once again, seeing Bakura's relaxed(Ha! Marik came up with a good word!) expression, he thought better of it.
"Hm, did anyone tell you it was rude to fall asleep when you're friend was being generous enough to give you a foot massage, fluffy?" Marik asked. He was debating whether or not his should go back to his room and try to sleep again. Though, he wasn't to keen on the idea because had a nightmare that fangirls were molesting him. It was horrifying, they kept trying to tear off his lavander belly top and touch his midriff. It was a shiver-worthy memory.
It was kind of nice seeing Bakura fast asleep, not struggling to get away from fangirls, nor was he angry and growling at Marik. He just looked plain cute. There was no denying it, Marik couldn't argue with the thought. Bakura looked cute when he was asleep, but ONLY when he was asleep. That was it.
Suddenly, Marik felt tired. His eyelids drooped, and he started to flop fowards. He caught himself before he smashed into Bakura's knees, then he shuffled further down the couch. The Egyptian reluctantly placed his head on the Limey's chest.
"I'm still straight, you know?" Marik huffed, before letting sleep take him.
"Heyyyy guuuuuuuys~!" a static buzzed voice drawled, opening the small door to the underground home. Though he didn't have eyes(Or any facial feature besides a mouth, for that matter) he saw something unwittably adorable.
Marik lay sprawled across Bakura, his legs wrapped around Bakura's thighs. The albino had his arm around Marik's waist, and was snoring into the blonde's hair. They were both out like lights, and looked so comfortable in their sleep, the faceless man smiled. He closed the door and went off to terrozize small children, the sun rising above him.