Chapter 2

Marik sat on the couch and stared ahead at the wall. Unlike most homes he'd ever entered, this one was barren of photographs or other mementos that suggested the owner held any sort of personal relationships with other people. The walls were completely barren, home to only the gray paint and white trim.

"So, I'm assuming you're cold," Bakura said leaning against the back of the couch, voice coming from behind Marik and startling him.

"What?"

"You're holding yourself, plus you're shaking. I'm assuming it's because you're cold."

"Oh…yes…I guess so," Marik said, turning in his seat so he could look at his host. Bakura went to a small closet in the hallway and pulled out a blanket, tossing it at his guest. Marik nodded a "thank you" to him and wrapped the fleece around his shoulders.

"Hungry too? Thirsty?" Bakura stood with his arms crossed.

"A little…you really don't have to go to any trouble to get me anything though."

"Well that's good, because I wasn't going to. The kitchen's that way," Bakura sat on the couch next to Marik and pointed behind them. Marik stood up and turned, going to the kitchen.

"Do you…um…want anything?"

"A bloody blow job."

"What?" Marik asked, not certain he heard right.

"Oh, nothing," Bakura smirked to himself, arms still crossed over his chest.

"Right…" Marik walked into the kitchen, shooting a look over his shoulder and shaking his head, dismissing it as a joke.

The kitchen was small and slightly cluttered, a stack of mail on the counter next to the microwave, a sink full of dishes and a calendar that had likely fallen off the wall was draped over the microwave. Marik walked over to the fridge and opened it, finding that it was relatively full. Rummaging through the contents, Marik settled on some leftover Chinese food and a can of Sprite. Marik walked back to the living room and sat next to Bakura, digging in. Bakura watched him quietly. After a few moments, Marik became self conscious and looked up at Bakura. "Do you want some? You said you didn't want anything…"

Bakura shook his head and smirked. "No Marik, thank you though. I'm waiting for you to finish stuffing your face so I can talk to you."

"Oh," Marik said, mouth full of noodles. He put the box on the coffee tabled and turned to look at him. "About what?"

"I'm curious as to what you did. You said it was 'something terrible,' and I'm just curious as to what that something might be."

Marik froze for a moment, staring at the boy he'd barely known for an hour. Was it really safe to tell him why he was running? Then again, Bakura was the only person he'd met so far…in his new life. Now that he'd decided to start over fresh, Bakura was really the only person he had. Depending on how he reacted to Marik's story, he could be good company. Marik decided to share.

"I…killed my dad on accident," Marik said, looking closely at Bakura to judge his reaction. After a moment, Bakura started laughing loudly.

"How in the hell do you kill someone on accident?" Bakura said through his laughter. Marik glared slightly.

"Okay, you want the whole story?" Once again, Marik was prepared to judge Bakura's reaction.

"Yes, Marik. Yes I do," Bakura smiled devilishly and leaned back on the couch, waiting patiently for Marik's tale.

"Okay…my dad walked in on me…giving another guy a blow job…and he my dad was drunk and he got mad at me and he went to hit me with his whisky bottle so I took it and I may have accidentally hit him with it and then he fell down a two story high flight of stairs. Then I stole his money and left. And then you stole my money. And here we are."

Bakura sat up slightly, looking at the anxious Marik. "That's what happened?"

"Yes."

"He got mad at you for sucking a guy's dick?"

"Yes…"

"Oh…then in that case, I'd say he deserved to die."

"Really?"

"Yeah…know what you should've told him?" Bakura asked grinning darkly at his new companion.

"What?"

"'Don't knock it til you try it.'" Bakura roared with laughter again, but this time Marik joined him.

"So…you know all about me…I don't know anything about you," Marik said, growing more comfortable around his new—and only—friend. Bakura stretched, rather like a cat, and looked at him with mysterious eyes.

"Are you saying you would like to know more about me?"

"Yes…"

Bakura was watching him, grinning mischievously. "What you need to know right now is that my name is Bakura. I'm an orphan, like you are now I guess. I like to steal things. Hence why I took your money." Bakura's grin grew wider and his eyes gained more mystery. "I suspect there will be plenty of time for you to learn the rest." Marik blushed, looking away.

"Yes…probably…"

From the church on the corner, a tolling began, starting in the bell tower and sweeping through every home and business in the area, letting the inhabitants of the sleepy town know that it was now midnight.

Bakura stood, looking at the beautiful tanned boy on his sofa. "I still haven't given you a tour. Come." Marik stood and Bakura grabbed hold of his wrist, pulling him down the hall. "Okay, that's the bathroom, that's the laundry room, and this is the bedroom. I only have one. Sorry. Hope that won't…bother you…" Bakura smirked to himself as he walked into his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.

"No…I don't mind…do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

Bakura stared at him. Marik was beautiful, but sometimes didn't exactly come across as all that bright. "No, Marik…I want you to sleep in my bed."

"I don't want to kick you out of your own bed though…"

Bakura stared at him and sighed deeply.

"No, Marik…let me rephrase this. I want you to sleep in my bed. With me in it."

"Oh…OH!" Marik's face turned red with the realization. "Right…sorry…"

Bakura smirked and shook his head. "Just get changed. Your clothes are covered in blood and Chinese food."

Marik looked down at his clothes, seeming to notice the stains for the first time. "Do you have a—"

"You know where the laundry room is." Bakura watched as Marik walked out and went to the laundry room. Bakura stood and changed into pajama bottoms and a different shirt before climbing back into bed. Moments later, Marik returned wearing a black tank top and purple plaid pants. Bakura let his eyes wander before holding up the blanket to allow Marik under. They lay facing each other for a moment, eyes studying the other's face carefully.

"How long will you let me stay here?" Marik asked.

Bakura hesitated, not sure he was ready to admit how drawn to the boy he seemed to be. Bakura let out a heavy sigh. "As long as you like."

"Okay…"

"Okay…" Bakura repeated, watching Marik close his eyes. He looked peaceful. Bakura looked away quickly and rolled over, trying to figure out in his mind what it was about the boy that seemed to captivate him.

A/N: I forgot to say before what should be painfully obvious. I DO NOT OWN YU-GI-OH! OR MARIK AND BAKURA. Okay, thank you. Now I shall not be sued!