Title: Never Turn Your Back

Summary: Neither Marik nor Ryou have any idea where they're headed. Thankfully for us, it happens to be right towards one another. (MarikxRyou with a slight side of BakuraxMalik)

Disclaimer (and pay attention because I'm only doing this once): All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. The lyrics below are by Marc Almond from the song "You Only Live Twice".

"Love is a stranger
Who'll beckon you on"

Marik reclined in the cheap plastic airport seat, doing his best to ease the ache that had only recently begun in his lower back. It wasn't just the seat making the daunting blond want to get the hell out of that place. It was just about everything. It was the screaming children, whining over cheap plastic toys in the gift shops. It was the men in three piece suites hollering into their tiny cell phones. It was the smell of sweat lingering in the smog of late summer.

The only reason he was at this air port at all was because of Malik and Bakura with a side of Ryou.

Speaking of Ryou, Marik looked up just in time to see the pale wisp of a young man coming towards him with Malik hanging on his arm and Bakura trailing behind.

Years had passed since they had all first congregated at Battle City and all the chaos that had consumed their lives afterwards. Yami, or whatever he'd decided to call himself as of late, had been charitable enough to give both Bakura and Marik their own bodies. The ancient Pharaoh had spared them, even after the strife they'd caused. Though the Pharaoh claimed to have his reasons for letting the pair be, Marik suspected that he had spared them for the sake of their lights, who against all odd had become rather attached over the years.

Marik tore himself from that line of thought, though, as his companions drew nearer. Malik and Bakura looked the same as they always had. Marik was fairly sure that he also looked the same, though his appearance had never really been an active issue for him. As long as one look at him could still send anyone below the age of twelve running, he was happy.

Ryou, however was a bit of a different story. His figure was as slim as ever, if a bit more muscled. His hair was a touch longer and more wild. At one point he had wanted to cut it. Bakura had expressly forbidden it, though, threatening the young hikari's wellbeing if a pair of scissors so much as skimmed those luscious white locks. It was still as soft as ever, or so Marik assumed. He hadn't really had the occasion to touch the young man's hair lately. It was how Ryou choose to dress that had changed. Gone were the striped shirts and jeans. They'd been replaced with the wardrobe of a deather.

Marik surveyed Ryou as he finally stopped just short of the intimidating blond and offered him a soda with a slight grin. Those chocolate depths were outlined with black kohl, enhancing them and making a stark contrast against the whitenet's pale complexion. He wore a reasonably tight black t-shirt and pants. He also wore a pair of cut off gloves that came all the way up to the elbow and lay securely against his skin. Instead of sneakers he wore a pair of soft, black suede slippers he'd found in a thrift store while out with Malik one day. A black ribbon hugged the porcelain column of his neck and from it hung a traditional silver ankh with a twist. The upside down tear drop of a loop was filed with onyx, the black stone caught the light easily and drew the eye.

Honestly, Marik didn't spend enough time with the little albino to know if he had changed in more ways than just his appearance. He was curious from time to time, but it wasn't at the top of his to-do list.

He watched as Malik threaded his arms through Ryou's and lent in closer. His words seem to bring a grin to both of their faces.

"Malik, stop harassing him."

Bakura and Malik were leaving. They were getting on a plane and going globe hopping. High school was a distant memory and the devious pair had begun planning their exploits for quite some time ago. They were supposed to have left an hour before hand, but their take off had been delayed due to some minor, technical issue.

Malik made a loud keening noise in the back of his throat. "But Marik-kun! I will be gone for months. Months.I need to get in some quality Ryou-time, otherwise I'll go into withdrawals." He turned to Bakura. "You wouldn't want that, would you?"

The white haired yami shook his head no with a definite smirk scrawled across his relaxed features.

"You could always call me." Ryou pointed out, forever the only reasonable one in this group, the one with their head on right.

"But it won't be the same." Malik made that keening noise once more.

Which prompted Marik to bring a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinch it, as though he had a headache. "How about you do us all a favor and shut the up, hikari."

Malik moved to stick his tongue out in response, but before he could do so, an announcement came over the loud speaker. A shrill woman's voice informed them that the plane was ready and waiting for them and that passengers should begin boarding.

So, instead of sticking his tongue out, Malik hugged the other blond tightly. Marik only stiffened at the contact. Whenever somebody touched him he couldn't help but check to see if a knife was present as well. Old habits die hard. Slowly, he raised his arms and wrapped them loosely around his miniature.

"You take care of Ryou while we're gone." Malik whispered in his ear before withdrawing and picking up his carry-on. He then turned to the albino who already happened to be enveloped in Bakura's grip.

Marik had the feeling that if he were the jealous type, which he definitely wasn't, that he would be jealous of the relationship the other yami and hikari seemed to share. He pushed that from his mind as the Malik rushed forward and joined the hug. He watched as his light whispered something in the little whitenet's ear, which made said young man laugh and push Malik away.

Bakura and Ryou pulled away, but Bakura didn't seem to be done saying good bye yet. He kissed his light on either cheek, then his forehead. With a roguish grin, the darkness grabbed Malik's hand and dragged him towards their exit for their security checks.

Both Marik and Ryou waved until their arms became sore, then went in the opposite direction to their own exit.

"Someone better come back from this trip of theirs' sore." Ryou mumbled.

Marik wasn't sure if the little light had been talking to him, or had just been speaking to himself, but decided to respond anyways. "Oh? And what do you mean by that?"

He had expected Ryou to blush or squirm or atleast be uncomfortable talking about such risque subject matter. Instead Ryou just shrugged. "Those two were practically made for each other. I hope that given some time without us around will make them see it."

Marik scowled at this. But the more he thought about it, the more it seem to fit. Both Bakura and Malik seemed most content when the other was near at hand. The pair also seemed to go out of their way to touch, or to be seated next to each other.

He continued scowling as he wondered why he hadn't noticed and why it had taken a memo from the other, seemingly innocent Light. He glanced at said Light and noticed that he didn't seem the least bit perturbed by the less than friendly expression on his face. In fact, Ryou was countering it with a small smile.

"Come to dinner with me." Marik said on impulse, shocked at his own words. The look on Ryou's delicate features said that he was just as surprised to hear those words.

After a long moment of consideration, Ryou nodded. "I follow you in the car."

Marik must have looked shocked. Honestly, he hadn't expected the little light to accept his invitation. Deep in the back of his mind, though he couldn't quite recognize it at first, relief edged in.

The whitenet laughed, the ivory waves shivered as his shoulders shook.

In that same, distant part of his mind, Marik thought about how warm and calm Ryou's tinkling laughter made him feel.

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Dinner was uneventful. They talked of future plans... Or in Marik's case, his lack of anything even closely resembling a plan.

Ryou was starting at University in a few days. Otherwise, life was pretty uneventful. Marik spoke of his plans, which consisted of.. nothing really. And for the first time he kind of regretted it.

Both his light and Bakura were becoming jet setters. Ryou was going to go to school. And he was going to.. to what? Currently he worked at a shop selling motorcycles, parts and doing repairs. But did he really plan to do that forever?

But other than realizing that his plans for the future, or lack there of, were a sham, he enjoyed the little hikari's presence. In all his memories Marik couldn't find one with just him and Ryou comfortably hanging out. When Bakura and Malik were around their attention always seemed to be elsewhere.

The only trouble came when the waiter brought out the check.

Ryou made a grab for it first. His nimble fingers clenching around the thin paper. He surveyed it for a moment, reading over the charges and figuring out the tip in his head.

"Give me that." Marik demanded gruffly.

Ryou handed over the paper, but then proceeded to dig out his wallet and place two crisp twenties (or the Japanese equivalent) on the table top.

"I'm paying."

"I don't think so." the albino young man said in a diplomatic voice.

Marik cleared his voice, making it more abrasive and threatening. "I do."

Ryou's impeccably shaped eyebrow raised. The silent connotation seemed to tell Marik what an ass he was being about this.

"Malik's parting words were a request to look after you. I assumes this means not letting you pay for things you don't have to." He paused for some semblance of dramatic effect. "In plain man's terms, that means I'm paying kid. Take back your money."

"Wow. You're parting request is better than mine." A slight red tint began climbing the hikari's neck, up beneath the black ribbon of his choker.

Marik smirked, wondering what could be worse than 'take care of Ryou'. "How much better?"

The white haired teen sighed, resigned to telling Marik. "He told me to get a boyfriend, then send him pictures as proof after we" he paused there and made a rolling motion in the air with his hand, "you know-ed, via e-mail. I knew there would be a catch when he got me that camera for my birthday. It was too nice."

Marik couldn't help but chuckle. That was so very Malik.Buy the guy an expensive digital camera, practically emptying his pockets in the process. Only to then ask the guy to take a picture of his next lover after doing the deed. That last request sounded more like a dare gone bad. He smirked as Ryou scowled at him darkly. Even with the kohl and black, Ryou still couldn't pull off the look; almost, but not quite.

"You're right. Mine's better." Marik nodded definitively. He blinked as Ryou didn't say anything, just took the money from the table, and grabbed the check from the blond's lax fingers as he passed on his way to the register.

Hastily, the yami got to his feet and followed. After a brief stop at the register, Ryou burst from the resturant and made for the parking lot like a bat outta hell.

"So, got any candidates lined up?" He asked, taunting the little light's retreating form. "Come on, there's got to be somebody you want to fuck!" He barked into the darkness.

"Up yours, Marik." Ryou called. That was abruptly followed by the sound of a slamming car door.

Marik chuckled darkly as he went to his motorcycle.

It was hours later when he sat bolt upright in bed. "That little fuck paid the check." He swore once more as he thought about the little Light distracting him into not paying for their meal.

"Next time, I'm paying." He growled into the darkness of his apartment. However, at that thought his mind stopped short. Wait, next time? He asked himself, running a hand through his spiky, blond hair.

Another voice piped up in that far away little corner of his mind. "Oh yea, there will be a next time." It promised before allowing Marik to rest his head back down and go back to sleep.

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Ryou slid a piece of bread into the toaster and turned the knob, setting it for three minutes. He then set a kettle on to boil water.

He still wasn't used to the quiet of the apartment. Hell, he wasn't even used to the apartment. When high school had ended, Ryou and Bakura decided that it was time to relocate. He had a vague notion, more like a feeling in his gut, that his yami was going to be going somewhere and didn't want to be in a house all alone.

Besides, as sappy, sentimental and silly as it seemed to the outside world. He'd wanted a fresh start. He didn't want to wake up to those old walls which seemed to have harmful memories hiding within the fibers of the very plaster. He was starting a new phase of his life and didn't want to deal with the baggage of the old that he associated so easily with that house. So he'd decided to leave it behind; leave behind the blood shed and pain he'd felt in his stay there and traded it in.

The apartment had two bed rooms. A nicely sized living room, a kitchen and all the other accouterments that made up a decent apartment. He'd gotten the okay from the land lord and had spent a good chunk of the summer painting the walls to his liking.

Most walls had become murals. Displays of his art in all it's forms. In some places he had drawn scenery. In other placed he'd written lines of poetry he'd written and stored over the years. In other places he had painted on lyrics from his favorite songs. Still in other's he had gigantic prints. Duplicates of brilliant works of art graced his walls.

And plants were happily situated on just about every available window sill. Fresh herbs on the sill of kitchen window. Dainty fox gloves and blooming hyacinths rested in the sunlight filtering in through Ryou's bedroom window. Ivy wound around the fire escape outside. Bakura's room was flower free, it didn't really seem like his type of thing, so Ryou had left it alone. Really, it wasn't even Ryou's thing, but he'd spent so long cultivating the precious plants in his home that he couldn't bear the thought of just killing them off, so they had relocated with him.

He had come to love the apartment even if he wasn't entirely used to it yet, but now that it was just him, the place seemed awfully large and lonely. Once or twice since Bakura's departure only three weeks before hand, he'd considered calling and asking for his father to come and visit.

That was pretty extreme considering that he'd hardly alerted his father that he was even moving, that he was graduating, that he had started at university. He'd sent his father a change of address card. And in return, his father had sent him a belated graduation present. An ankh, much like the one that almost perpetually hung around his neck on a ribbon. Except it was heavier and more ancient looking.

Ryou had kept the gift in the box and it still rested on his dresser where he'd put it the first day he received it.

Absently, he began nibbling on the edge of his now done piece of toast.

He looked over at the clock on one of the kitchen appliances and groaned. He still had almost two hours until his first class of the day.

Briefly, he thought of Marik. He had talked to the intimidating blond yami a few times during the weeks since their counterparts had been gone. Mostly, Ryou got the feeling, that it just so that Marik could fulfill Malik's request and therefore save himself the inconvenience that was Malik's blond rage.

Their conversations consisted of perfunctory questions. 'How are you', 'How is school going', 'How is work', 'Has Malik been obsessively sending you post cards, too'? Things like that. They didn't reallytalk, not like that had that first night, and they certainly didn't got out to eat again.

Then again, Ryou shrugged. He'd been too busy adjusting to school. Life college life was different from high school and he was fighting to find a balance, between doing studying and having a bit of fun, that didn't drive him completely bonkers.

He wandered into the living room. His answering machine was blinking at him. He pressed the button to listen to the message and idly began the movements of getting ready to leave.

"You have 2 messages." He pulled on his cut off gloves. Today they were made of lace and clinched just below the elbow. Which left plenty of porcelain skin exposed with the black tank top he currently wore.

"Hey Ryou, this is Yugi. I haven't seen you in a while and was just wondering if you wanted to meet me for tea or something." There was a beep, signifying the end of that message.

Ryou walked to the machine and pressed the erase button as the kettle in the kitchen began to scream.

"Ryou-chan," Marik's voice came over the machine. Ryou stopped to listen, almost pouring scalding hot water down his arm as he was attempting to dump it into a thermos along with a tea bag. "I was just wondering if you died."

The albino young man snorted through his nose. Marik had been drunk when he left the message. There was nothing peculiar about the 'I was just wondering if you died' line. That's basically what he said to Ryou at the start of every one of their phone conversations lately. It was the -chanadded the end of his name that tipped the little hikari off.

The blond never bothered with honorifics unless he was inebriated or had some sort of other foreign substance running through his veins. The darkness really did have a scary high tolerance level for liquor; which Ryou had been privy to on the eve of their graduation.

He listened to the message once more before calling Yugi back. No one picked up the little spiky haired hikari's phone, so he left a message with a time and place. Phone tag can be fun, he thought dully as he wrapped a shred of lace around his neck as a scarf, and pulled back his hair with another piece. He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, double and triple checking to make sure his portfolio was safe.

Before leaving the apartment, he listened to Marik's message once more. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it seemed as though something was missing from Marik's voice. It wasn't something that could be dulled by alcohol either. He wanted to call, just to check in, but Ryou knew that chances were Marik wasn't awake yet and would have bitten Ryou's head off for calling if he even bothered to answer at all.

But the he more he thought about what had been missing in Marik's voice, the more it began to worry him.

Author's Notes: I hope that this little pilot of mine was an enjoyable read. And remember folks, feedback is always appreciated.