Not Cuddling

A/N: I dunno man I just love these two right now.

Hopefully this is okay, please enjoy Marik and Bakura being cute, featuring my awkward attempt at humour.

"Are-Are you cuddling me?" Bakura scowled down to where Marik was slumped across his lap, arm around Bakura's waist, head leaning on his chest.

"No," Marik said into Bakura's shirt and Bakura adjusted his spot on the couch, so he didn't feel like Marik's weight was about to drag him off it and onto the floor.

"Are you sure?" He narrowed his brown eyes.

Marik nodded, "Not cuddling."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, every now and again Marik would sigh loudly against Bakura's chest, breath ruffling the pages of the book that Bakura wasn't particularly paying any attention to anyway.

Bakura looked down at Marik. Not cuddling? Bakura held back a laugh. He was most definitely cuddling. Not that Bakura minded. Sure, he might act like he had no feelings for Marik whatsoever, but it couldn't have been further from the truth, and they both knew it. What Bakura wasn't sure Marik knew, was how irritatingly good he looked, leaning on Bakura, pale blond hair falling in layers down the side of his face and his neck. It almost made Bakura want to pull him close and kiss him, but that would have been very out of character, and the thief king was most definitely always in character.

After a few more minutes of Marik's sighing, and managing to move even closer against Bakura, arm now firmly around him (still not cuddling), Bakura spoke again, "Marik is there something you want? You aren't normally this..." He searched for a word, "Clingy."

"Aren't I allowed to lay with you?" Marik looked up, scowling.

Bakura let out a long sigh, heavy with frustration. Was Marik kidding? Were they really going to do this? Have an argument? Honestly he had thought that this morning's session of screaming at each other in the kitchen while Marik's Pop-Tarts burned in the toaster, creating a thick black cloud of smoke to almost completely engulf them had been enough.

"Well?" Marik jabbed Bakura in the thigh, making the thief king twitch and grit his teeth.

"Don't do that. And I don't care if you lay there or not," He said darkly.

Marik hugged tighter around Bakura and Bakura wondered if he might choke to death right there, "Then why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

"I'm not!" Bakura told him and his voice hissed like an angry snake.

Marik shrugged and again leaned his head against Bakura, "Fine."

A few more minutes passed and Bakura could no longer control himself, "Look Marik, admit that you're cuddling me or get the bloody hell off!"

Marik immediately sprung back to a sitting position beside Bakura, mostly in shock that Bakura had actually lost his temper, "What the hell is wrong with you Bakura? You want to interrogate me because I actually come near you for once other than when we're having sex? Like I'm doing something wrong? I don't get it!"

Bakura stared angrily at Marik, trying to find a way to argue back before he quickly realised that he didn't have a figurative leg to stand on in this fight. Suddenly he felt guilty. Had he really just gotten angry at Marik for laying with him? Over the sheer fact that Marik hadn't wanted to admit that he was cuddling? Bakura hadn't even considered that maybe Marik had been nervous about admitting that out loud, taking into consideration what their relationship was actually like. Maybe he had been scared of what Bakura's reaction might be...and then Bakura had just gotten mad at him anyway. He looked at Marik, hoping the guilt in his eyes wasn't showing through.

"And now you feel bad," Marik said, folding his arms triumphantly over his purple shirt.

Shit, Bakura pursed his lips. Was it that obvious? "I certainly do not. I've never felt bad about anything in my life!"

"But you feel bad now," Marik smirked, "Because you care about me."

Bakura, turning to face Marik on the couch glared at him intensely, brown eyes burning into the Egyptian, "I most definitely do not."

Marik's smirk only grew prouder as he felt himself completely gaining the upper-hand against Bakura, "Which is why you stroke my hair after sex when you're laying next to me and you think I'm asleep."

Bakura's eyes widened and he felt an uncomfortable heat form across his face as he blushed dark pink, "I..." He swallowed, "I don't do that," He managed softly.

Marik leaned forward putting his hand to the side Bakura's neck he laughed like an amused child, "I don't mind. I like it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bakura narrowed his eyes, wondering about the likelihood of the floor complying to his current wishes and literally swallowing him whole.

"Let me jog your memory, Bakura," Marik was now far too amused with this situation, the look on Bakura's face only pleasing him even more, "It's like this," He said and took a piece of Bakura's own snow coloured hair and gently ran his hands through it, making the thief shiver slightly, "Do you remember now?" Marik asked, his voice low but still as vain and vindictive as ever.

"Fuck off," Bakura told him, but of course he didn't mean it.

The tombkeeper laughed again, "Oh! Oh, I've got another one! What about..." He leaned further, suddenly kissing Bakura's mouth hard , the taste of it drew them both in but Marik was proving a point and he would not get distracted. He broke the kiss to bite on Bakura's bottom lip, he bit softly against it until he heard Bakura make that 'Ohh' sound he was waiting for and then said, "When you kiss me like that, and you grab my hand and thread your fingers through mine...like..." Marik nodded down at their hands, where sure enough Bakura had dropped his book and just grabbed onto Marik's hand and threaded their fingers together, "Like you never want to let go," Marik breathed softly, running his tongue over the bite mark he had made on Bakura's lip, "Why do you do that, if you don't care about me?" He asked.

"Because fuck you, that's why," Bakura growled, pulling the lead of the situation out of Marik's grasp by recommencing the kiss, like before, with the tongues and the lip biting and their breathing far too heavy and desperate for it to be meaningless; and him grabbing onto Marik's hand because he would never ever fucking let go or let Marik away from him for one second, Goddamnit.

Both boys broke away to catch their breath, eyes staring at each other, argument forgotten. Bakura laid back down, head against the armrest of the couch and tugged Marik down with him, to lay against his chest, and wrapped his arms tightly around the other boy's waist.

"What are you doing?" Marik asked quietly, nuzzling his head against Bakura's shirt.

"Certainly not fucking cuddling you that's for sure."

A/N:

Aww I love them. Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review and let me know your opinion! Also please forgive any typos, I tried to fix everything but some always manage to sneak through.

I don't own YGO, and neither do you, that's why you're on fanfiction reading thiefshipping fics and I'm in my room writing them at 4am.