A/N: Forgive the shit summary and title. I couldn't think of anything else.


"Bakura, where did you put my deck?"

Bakura glanced at Marik, before looking back at his own Occult Deck spread out onto the table before him, along with the other cards he held on his person. He had been in the middle of perfecting his deck and making sure he had all the necessary cards to beat the Pharaoh before Marik so rudely barged in. "You have hundreds of decks at your disposal. You'll have to be more specific."

Marik's eyes narrowed as he took several steps towards the spirit. "I'm referring to my deck. The one I'm to duel that hateful Pharaoh with, once I get the chance."

"You speak as if I was the last person who had it," Bakura commented as he nonchalantly picked up a random card from the mess on the table. Ouija Board. His heart thrummed in excitement, his mind wandering slightly as he imagined the look of terror on the Pharaoh's face as brought about his demise with this very card.

Marik crossed his arms, the Millennium Rod that rested in his hands glinting dangerously in the fluorescent lighting of the room. "There's no one else on this blimp except for you who would even dare to touch it."

Bakura set the card back down. Marik obviously wasn't going to leave anytime soon. Bakura could indulge in his fantasies later. The Millennium Ring clinked against his chest as he sat back in his cushioned chair, turning to Marik and giving him his undivided attention. "What about that servant of yours - what's his name? Rabid?"

"Rishid," Marik growled out.

"Whatever."

"He wouldn't mess with my deck." Marik walked towards Bakura, until he was standing right in front of him. His physical stance -crossed arms, tight fists, drawn shoulders, a seething glare paired with a scowl- screamed superiority as tension radiated off of him. "I mean it when I say that there's no one else on this blimp but you who would take my deck without my knowledge."

"That's too bad, then," Bakura mused as a smirk formed on his lips. "Since I haven't seen nor touched your precious deck."

Marik snarled, his hands crashing down on the arm rests of the chair. He leaned down, close enough for Bakura to feel Marik's breath wash across his face. "Don't play fucking dumb! I know that you stole it and I demand that you tell me where it is before I drag you to the top of this blimp and push you off."

Bakura snorted. What a pathetic display of power. Trying to intimidate him with such an empty threat. The Egyptian clearly still had use for him. Marik was the type of person that thought of others like puppets, something that Bakura could easily understand and even sympathize with. Everyone was a piece in a game of chess, each person having their own set role as the players moved them across the checkered board. However, the players weren't even near checkmate yet, and Marik was not yet ready to sacrifice his knight in case he still needed it to corner the king. But unlike Marik, Bakura had three thousand years of experience in this game. He was able to move with much more practice and precision. His placements were deliberate and well thought out. He wouldn't lose against this kid.

Bakura licked his lips as he gathered his thoughts. "As much as I'd love to see you try and do that, Marik, I have to say that threatening to kill the person you are asking something from is probably not the best idea you've had."

Marik's eyes narrowed, portraying only hatred and anger in their depths. "Gods, you really piss me off."

Bakura's lips twitched into a smirk. "Rejoice. The feeling is mutual."

The two of them stayed like that, Marik glaring down at Bakura as the ancient spirit observed him with an amused expression. It was a challenge of sorts; a game of chicken. Neither moved, and both refused to back away. Tension welled up between them, filling the air around them as the time until Kaiba's henchmen announced the first duel grew near. Their eyes were interlocked in a battle of willpower and pride, much like the time they had competed with the darkness they held in their power when they first met in that depressing alleyway.

Marik was the first to move; however, he did not retreat. He leaned further down, his nose almost brushing against Bakura's. In a moment, the atmosphere around them changed. The tension heightened, but it no longer carried the malice that was there prior. Bakura's heartbeat grew faster, watching as Marik licked his lips in anticipation. Closer, closer, and closer still. Marik rested one of his hands on Bakura's shoulder as he rested a knee between the spirit's legs to keep himself steady. Marik completely filled Bakura's senses as their lips drew close enough to brush together.

But fate had something else in store for them, as at that very moment, the announcement for everyone to gather in the main room went off. The two villains froze, eyes lidded, breathing heavy - but the moment was already ruined. A scowl rested on Bakura's lips as Marik stood back up. "You can give me my cards back later," he muttered.

"Oh?" The grin was back on Bakura's face in a flash. "And what if you're the first person up in the finals?"

"Then I'll just take your deck and use it," Marik scoffed.

"Like hell you will. I'll kill you if you even try."

Marik shook his head, shoulders shrugging. "Such an empty threat."

"Shut up and get out of my room already," Bakura growled, picking up the cards scattered across the table and setting them up into a deck. Marik left with a wave of his Millennium Rod, the door closing automatically behind him. Bakura sighed as he fell back into his chair, massaging his temples as his heartbeat finally went back to normal. A sense of dread took form in his chest. This wasn't good.


A/N: Sorry not sorry for the cockblock. Romance is not my forte. Does this even count as romance? I dunno. But y'know what? It's a lot easier to write these two now that I've watched the Japanese episodes. I dunno why, but it kinda feels like I've got a better understanding of their characters now. I could be wrong, though. Why not leave a review and let me know how I did?