FORGET-ME-NOT
Ryou loved walking through the forest at dusk because it frightened him. The cold sank into his bones, making all the old wounds from the Ring-Spirit ache and throb, but he didn't mind the discomfort. It reminded him that he lived. Ryou stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie and listened to the crunch of his feet beating against frost-coated leaves.
Dark, deep shadows covered the forest floor, and in these times Ryou felt the horror of the woods raise the fine hairs on the back of his neck. He savored the thrill of it, fear mixed with adrenaline mixed with a longing for vampires, werewolves, or boogeymen. He loved being scared, curled beneath a blanket with a horror novel, snug on the sofa with a scary movie, or walking through a dark woods as the light bled onto the horizon.
A twig snapped behind him. Ryou's heart beat hard and fast in his chest as he turned around. He expected shadows, and the exhale of his own breath, and the foolish relief one felt when realizing the sound was nothing more than a jump-scare.
Ryou's nutmeg-brown eyes widened when he saw the cloaked figure standing behind him, watchful and predatory.
"Marik?" Ryou asked, more than a little confused.
"In a sense, but not anymore, not truly."
Ryou swallowed, throat clicking. "Weren't you lost to the Shadows?"
"Yes."
"How did you come back?"
Marik's smile was a gash carved into his face; his lilac eyes flashed like a mountain lion's. "I suppose it was fate."
Ryou smiled, big and sweet. "Yes. That seems to be the way of things."
Mariku took a step forwards. "I'm going to kill you."
"You think so?" Ryou took half a step back, baiting the giant shadow watching him.
"Yes. I want to hear you scream."
"Well . . ." Ryou continued to smile, heart still drumming out a dark, strong beat in his chest. He was terrified, and he loved it. Marik was better than a vampire and better than a werewolf - more dangerous, and more familiar. An intimate horror that Ryou remembered from when the "good" half of Marik controlled Ryou's mind. Back then, Ryou had felt the presence of the submerged hatred buried in the back of Marik's mind. He had felt the presence of Marik's darker half in a way the Ring-Spirit never did because Ryou and Marik's shadow had both been imprisoned in their respective subconsciouses.
Ryou took another half-step backwards. "If you want to hear me scream - you'll have to catch me."
Ryou pivoted and sprang through the woods. He heard the crashing of saplings and twigs behind him, but stayed well ahead of the dark hunter. Branches cut into Ryou's face and pulled at his hair, but Ryou was smaller and faster and he knew the woods well. He ran until a stitch bit fierce into his side and the breath tore at his lungs. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he realized Marik had fallen behind, furious and cursing at the roots that slowed his feet.
Ryou laughed. "You're too slow!" He stopped, standing on a bed of oakleaves, moss, and creeping thyme. "Catch me," Ryou taunted, flushed and panting from running in the chill air.
And Marik did, tackling Ryou to his back and pinning both slender, white wrists over Ryou's head. "You did that on purpose."
Ryou looked up at the darker Marik gasping for breath above him. Their words floated out of their mouths in white clouds. "Of course I did."
"Why?" Marik growled.
Ryou wrapped his legs around Marik's waist, hiking up a little to ensure that Marik felt the pressure of Ryou's body. "Because this is all part of my game."
Marik stared at Ryou, trying to puzzle him together. "What game?"
"The game to seduce you," Ryou said with a angel's voice, so clear and sweet that one would have thought he'd uttered a prayer and not a proposition.
"What?" Marik's voice was low and throated and more than a little confused.
Ryou ground his hips up again, slow and consistent. He enjoyed the unfocused glaze that fogged the lavender eyes staring at him. When he spoke, he accented every word with a slow emphasis. "Seduce you. I want you to fuck me."
"What?" Marik asked a second time, still not understanding, not used to anything other than violence.
"Fuck me." Ryou continued to move his hips, setting up a slow, deliberate rhythm. "And I promise you'll hear me scream, just like you wanted."
Marik still panted small dragon-puffs into the ever growing night. The more Ryou rocked up into Marik's body, the harder the dark spirit clutched to Ryou's wrists until he growled and bent low to Ryou's face. A larger cut from a tree branch made a trickle of blood weep down Ryou's right cheek. Marik reached out his tongue and licked Ryou's cheek clean.
"Kiss me," Ryou whispered, still hiking into Marik's groin.
Marik gave another growl in protest, but his tongue slipped into Ryou's mouth. The tang of copper invaded Ryou's tastebuds from the taste of blood, but this too was familiar, courtesy of the Ring-Spirit. Marik's kisses surprised Ryou. Gentle, deep, and sensuous, Ryou would have never imagined that murder and agony turned flesh could kiss like a boy in love.
Ryou lay on the forest floor, shivering from cold, but refusing to interrupt what was happening. They broke for air, and Ryou used the opportunity to whisper, "my pants."
Marik's eyes flicked down as if he didn't understand Ryou's language for a moment, but then he used his free hand, the one not binding Ryou, to unfasten Ryou's pants. He had to let go of Ryou's wrist to pull the pants off, but Ryou didn't try to escape. He merely kicked off his shoes so he could help pull his jeans away from his legs and then help Marik do the same with his khakis.
"Put your fingers in my mouth," Ryou instructed.
Again Marik hesitated before complying, sticking pointer and mid finger into Ryou's mouth. Ryou sucked and coated both fingers with saliva, tickling Marik's fingertips with his tongue as he did it. When Ryou pulled his mouth away, he didn't need to tell Marik what to do - both fingers immediately found their way into Ryou's lower body.
Ryou grunted at the intrusion, but just as with all discomfort, Ryou relished it because it reminded him that he lived. Ryou reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a tiny packet. "Here. Use this."
Marik squinted at the packet, trying to read the label in the last shards of sunset light. "Why do you even have this?"
Ryou smiled again. "Fate, I suppose. Last time Yugi and everyone went to the movies, Honda tossed it to me as a joke and I shoved it into my pocket and forgot about it - until now."
Marik snorted and tore open the little packet of lube and coated his erection, hard and full thanks to Ryou's grinding and their kissing. Once he was as saturated as the tiny packet allowed, He shifted his hips and pressed inside of Ryou.
Ryou screamed, as loud as he wanted, the forest was theirs and theirs alone.
"Scream again." Marik pulled out and shoved himself back in, and Ryou gave him the piercing shout that he wanted.
"Again!"
After half a dozen shouts, Marik paused, giving Ryou a chance to catch his breath. He leaned close. "Does it hurt?" The question was more out of morbid curiosity than concern, but Ryou didn't mind that fact.
A little puff of breath floated into the air as Ryou laughed. "No more than last time."
Marik frowned. "That was them," he said, referring to their other halves.
"It was them," Ryou agreed, "and us."
Marik grinned, thrusting again and making Ryou call out. "So you were there? That time in Battle City before everything fell apart?"
"Yes." Ryou grunted between thrusts, panting loud and noisy. "And so were you. I felt you, in Marik's mind. Ah - there!" Ryou interrupted himself when one of Marik's thrusts hit his prostate.
Marik adjusted his angle, and Ryou wailed in wanton disregard.
"This is better." Marik chuckled. "I get you to myself, no jackass thief."
Ryou couldn't answer. He screamed, and groaned, and clawed at Marik's back with zero consideration to Marik's scars. Marik didn't seem to mind the pain.
"I'm still going to kill you."
Ryou snorted, forcing himself to speak between moans and curses. "If you ... oh fuck - do anything - aaaah, ah - other than - mmmmmm yes ... yes - ah, pass out - oh yes - after this - yes - you didn't, didn't, fuck me h-hard enough - ahh fuck! Fuck yes!"
Marik laughed, moving faster. "Sounds like I'm fucking you just right."
"Yes!" Ryou screamed, an exclamation more than an agreement. His legs shook on either side of him, and he grabbed himself, timing his strokes with Marik's thrusts. "Marik!"
Hearing his name made the darker Marik moan. He aimed for Ryou's prostate and watched his lover unraveled before his eyes, cum shooting onto their stomachs in spurts.
Marik felt his own orgasm building. He leaned closer to Ryou, keeping his thrusts quick and shallow. His back burned from Ryou's nails, the scratches stinging from sweat, but the pain only sweetened the pleasure and Marik closed his eyes as the thrill of climax swallowed him whole.
A strange wave of euphoria seeped into his mind once the physical pleasure subsided, a soothing contentment he hadn't felt when he shared his body with his weaker half. In a deranged haze of affection, Marik's lips searched for Ryou's. He poured his entire being into the kisses, trying to share himself in a way he didn't think possible.
When it was over, Marik found himself curling on top of Ryou's chest and falling asleep.
"Told you," Ryou whispered into Marik's hair as the conscious world faded from existence.
When Marik woke up it was dawn and the woods was gray and quiet. A fire burned beside him, and Ryou's hoodie lay over his shoulders like a blanket, but there was no Ryou to be seen.
Marik sat up, scratching his scalp and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He shivered, but the fire kept off most of the cold. He noticed a bouquet of small, bluish flowers with a note tied around the stems.
Curious, Marik unrolled the note and read it.
Marik,
I'd invite you back to my place for breakfast, but for the sake of self preservation, I figured it'd be safer if I slipped away. I often walk these woods at dusk, however, so maybe our paths will cross again sometime.
The flowers are called forget-me-nots. I stole them off of a grave in a nearby cemetary for you.
Your eager victim,
Ryou Bakura
Marik smiled, running calloused fingertips along the script as if it were brail. He picked up the flowers and studied them, tracing his fingers over the cluster of petals with the same care he'd given the letter.
An odd feeling tickled the pit of Marik's stomach. He mistook it for hunger, but even after he killed and skinned a rabbit, cooking it on a spit over the fire Ryou provided, the strange feeling lingered. He wasn't sure what it was, the feeling, but he knew he was going to stay, haunting the forest like a ghost, until fate provided him with another encounter with Ryou.
***I think it's funny that Ryou bails at the end of this fic. Like, he's not even going to take the chance, see ya.***
