Marik sat down next to Bakura who was sprawled on the couch as he watched some made-for-tv movie, eyes glazed. "Bakura? Are you busy?"

The white haired teenager fixed at his roommate with a hard stare, annoyed more out of habit than of actual annoyance. "If you're asking? Yes, very." He turned his gaze back on the boring movie.

Marik rolled his eyes and shut off the TV. "This is important."

"I was watching that."

"No you weren't, you were half asleep."

"I didn't say I was enjoying it."

They stared at each other for a few moments longer before Bakura sighed and sat up; he knew that once the blond teenager got it in his head to do something, he would do it, and Bakura would be dragged along to be aggravated and abused by his Egyptian companion.
He actually didn't mind very much, but he'd murder whatever poor soul that was dumb enough to tell Marik. With a dull knife.

"Alright, what's so important today, Marik?"

Marik hesitated.

Odd, he was usually talking before Bakura was even listening, and still talking long after Bakura stopped caring.

"... Well?"

"... I love you." Marik turned his head away, blushing slightly. "There. I said it."

Bakura's mouth hung open in shock.

Did he hear that right? Marik loved him? That- that- that was-

"Happy now?"

... That was wonderful.

"Verrrry."

"Good, because I'm not saying it aga- what are you doing?" As Marik spoke, Bakura had wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him close in a tight embrace, gazing lustfully into his eyes.

"I love you too, Marik."

"... What?"

"I love you. I've always loved you, from the day I first saw you on your motorcycle. I knew instantly when I felt the pull of my Millennium Ring that this was something special, something worth risking everything for- and I was right, you were. I jumped in front of your motorcycle just to make sure you wouldn't just pass me by. I love you."

The effect of his words were slightly marred by the fact that as he spoke, one of his hands slid low, resting on Marik's tight ass and giving it a gentle squeeze as he finished his confession.

"Bakura- what? What are you- stop that!"

Bakura chuckled softly and removed the hand. "Sorry, sorry, getting ahead of myself. We can save that for later~" He grinned lecherously.

"What? No! I don't- that's not-"

Bakura moved off him and became serious again. "No! I didn't mean tonight, whenever you're ready! I don't want to move too fast for you, darling!"

Marik opened his mouth to speak again, but couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.

Bakura held Marik's hands tenderly in his own and looked into his eyes. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

Marik took a deep breath.

"... Um, Bakura... D-do you remember when I sang "Come Sail Away"? A-and I wanted y-you to sing?"

Bakura watched his face, utterly entranced, and giddy with joy that he didn't have to hide it anymore. "Of course. I remember everything we do together."

Marik gulped slightly and blushed deeper. "And d-do you remember... What I told you to get you t-to sing...?"

Bakura looks down for a moment, concentrating on the event that happened so long ago- the details were fuzzy. "... You offered me a lot of things. The one that got me to sing was... was..." Bakura almost had it... It was on the tip of his tongue...

"... If I told you I loved you."

Realization dawned on him, and a slow blush crept over his face.

He then remembered he was still holding Marik's hands. He quickly let them go and scooted back on the couch, feeling utterly embarrassed and idiotic. He should have known! He wasn't meant to be happy. None of the writers wanted his happiness.

Marik, for probably the first time in his life, was at a complete loss for words. He just sat there, grateful they had both been sitting for this conversation, staring at Bakura and trying to say... Anything. Anything at all.

Bakura, on the other hand, was trying to think of where the deepest hole in the world was, how long it would take to get there, and whether he could gather enough rations to allow him to hide in it until Season 5.

Finally, Marik found something to say. He shifted a little closer to Bakura on the couch. The teen had buried his face in his hands, and was shaking his head dejectedly. Marik put a hand on his shoulder. After a slight hesitation, Bakura lifted his head slowly, peeking at him through his fingers, trying to hide as much of the bright red blush that had spread across his face as possible.

"... What is it?"

Marik smiled brightly at him and patted his shoulder. "It could be worse."

Bakura didn't know it was possible to have such mixed feelings for a single person. On one hand, he loved him; he loved the way he made him smile with his idiocy, he loved how cute he got when he was throwing a girly fit, and of course, he loved that gorgeous body covered in those gorgeous muscles.

But most of the time, he really just wanted to strangle him.

Like right now.

Note: I know it says "incomplete", but I just want to let everyone know that I don't know if I'm going to continue or not. If I do, it may be two or three chapters, or it may be 30 chapters - I have many ideas, good and not - so - good. But if I /do/ continue, it'll be less humor and more romance, just a heads up~

Thanks for reading my first fanic!