A/N: All I have to say is - lemon warning! Enjoy!
Chapter Four
Later that morning, Malik slipped into the palace and hunted for news. He could tell right away that Bakura's entrance last night had gotten the scandalized effect he'd wanted. The members of the inner court rushed about from one part of the palace to the other, discussing what should be done about another possible attack by their intruder.
Malik spent several hours standing in the shadows of columns and corridors, listening to their frantic voices. He heard one particular conversation that surprised him.
Isis and Mahad were speaking in the courtyard. It was apparent that his sister had been attempting to search her Millennium Necklace for answers about the future, but by the fearful tone of her voice, she'd been unsuccessful for the most part. Mahad likewise revealed that his Ring had been acting strangely. Mahad reassured her that their young Pharaoh would lead them through this darkness.
Later that day, Isis and Mahad met again, and Malik overheard Isis' warning.
"You mustn't ride out, Mahad. I sensed a dark future ahead of you through the Necklace."
But Mahad simply smiled. "I would prefer not to know, Isis. My Pharaoh needs me, and I won't let him down."
And without a word, he gathered his men and prepared to ride out.
Shortly after hearing this, Malik descended into the little closet to warn Bakura of what he'd heard.
"Excellent," Bakura smirked as he stood. "He'll be expecting me to follow. It'll be the chance I'm looking for. And better still, their Millennium Items seem to be acting up due to my presence. I think my Diabound may have even grown stronger in the last day."
Bakura left shortly and Malik sat listlessly in the little pile of blankets, now more worried than ever. Bakura may have caught the court by surprise, but they were now aware of the danger and would do everything in their power to capture Bakura again, and properly sentence him to death. Before, Malik had simply thought of the thief as a partner who'd help him achieve his ends—now it had transcended beyond that. Bakura was his lover and his friend. The very possibility of Bakura's death left Malik breathless and fearful; it drew a complete blank in his mind. He'd have nothing if Bakura died. He'd have no purpose and no future.
To get his mind off of this terrible possibility, he grabbed a little ceramic jar from the shelves of the closet, where he'd long ago discovered some kohl. And in his listlessness, he ran the powder over his right arm carefully and drew the shape of a wicker stool, then next to it a loaf of bread, and lastly, in the single line, he drew a flax wick.
It was the shape of Bakura's tattoo, which was imprinted in his right arm, and always reminded him of his revenge.
On Malik's arm, it would be something else. It would represent Malik's unyielding loyalty to the thief; it would be his promise to stand by Bakura no matter how dark the coming events.
Bakura returned the next morning, and before Malik could jump up and embrace him, he opened his red robes and revealed the Millennium Ring, which lay gracefully and appropriately upon his bronze chest.
"You've managed it," Malik breathed as he stood up to appraise him.
Bakura stepped into the closet and drew Malik close. "Yes, thanks to your warning, I apprehended Mahad. He did a rather lousy trick and trapped us in a stone cave, but my Diabound was too strong for him. He did a foolish thing, really—something he called an ultimate unification. He sacrificed his life to fuse with his magician monster. But it was no matter. I got the Ring nonetheless."
Malik smiled, and pressed his face into Bakura's robes, breathing in the scent of desert sand and victory. He glanced up, knowing that Bakura would be gone again soon on some other undertaking. "What will you do next?"
Bakura mindlessly stroked Malik's hair. "I'm going into the palace, stealthily this time. It's high time I had a chat with Aknadin and see if I can acquire another Millennium Item."
Bakura's eyes were distant. He had been living in the future these past few days, examining the next step before the present one was even complete.
"It's drawing to a close soon, isn't it?" Malik asked shrewdly. He could tell that Bakura's actions over the past several days were singularly aiming for the goal; his revenge was firm and clear in his mind and the events would culminate soon.
"Yes, it won't be long now," Bakura agreed. "I've been rushing to bring about the end quickly, before the court has time to gather together and stop me. They have it in them, I know it, but if they're still as scattered as they are now, I have a chance."
Bakura had been sitting with Malik close by his side, and as he glanced at the boy, he suddenly caught sight of the tattoo Malik had copied onto his own arm in kohl. The powder had smudged in the past several hours, but the images were still clear. Bakura took Malik's wrist gently.
"You drew my tattoo over your arm?" he asked, smiling.
Malik blushed. "I had nothing to do while you were gone. I thought you'd like it."
"I do. It may be a temporary mark, but it pleases me to see it." He brought Malik closer, kissing him on the lips.
"It doesn't have to be temporary, you know. Not if I write it on my arm every day. It'll be a sort of link, representing our partnership."
Bakura kissed Malik on the crook of his shoulder and his lips moved over Malik's skin as he spoke.
"Thank you, Malik. It's things like these that make me think…I love you."
He pulled back to stare at Malik meaningfully.
For a moment, Malik's heart stopped at hearing the words. He'd sensed that their relationship had transcended the physical for a while now, and entered something much deeper and more significant. He couldn't reply for a moment, because the feelings were too much.
Instead, he simply pushed Bakura back into the wall and kissed him more fervently than he ever had before. He didn't have to say the words, because Bakura surmised quickly enough that Malik felt the same.
While Bakura was gone, stealthily slipping through the palace corridors to find Aknadin, Malik wandered the palace as well, searching the area for clues as to what the court was planning. He sat by the stone columns and listened to palace conversations, but didn't find much of interest.
When he returned to the little closet in his underground chambers, toward the evening, he found Bakura sitting on the ratty blankets, eating some expensive fruit that Malik deduced he'd stolen from the markets while he'd been out. Every time Malik saw Bakura back in his home, safe and alive, he felt a little jolt of happiness in his stomach, and relayed his gratitude to the gods.
"The little chat went well?" Malik sat beside Bakura.
"Yes, and more besides. I met the Pharaoh again outside the palace, and while battling him with Diabound, he procured Slifer."
"Really?" Malik asked, his eyes widening. "The Pharaoh must have considerable power if he could call upon another god."
"Indeed," Bakura sounded resentful. "It's no matter, though. My next step will be the last. I'll lead the entire court toward Kul Elna, the village where my vengeance started. There they'll learn the extent of the old Pharaoh's treachery, and the young Pharaoh will suffer for it."
"And what after that?" Malik asked, for he hadn't heard any plans past those.
Bakura hesitated, and then looked at Malik seriously. "This will be the last night I'm coming back here, Malik. Tomorrow, I'll lead them to Kul Elna; they'll follow after Isis sees a vision of me being there. Once they're all gathered by the stone tablet in the village, I'll take their Millennium Items. It has long been my guess that gathering all the items in that particular spot will unleash unspeakable power. It's this power that will enable me to get my revenge.
"I don't know all the details of the ritual that created the items, however. And that's where I'll need your help again," Bakura glanced at Malik, gathering his undivided attention.
"What do you need me to do?" Malik asked without hesitation.
"The entire inner court—therefore all the Millennium Items—will be gathering at Kul Elna. While they're gone, the room where they've kept their stone monsters will be empty. There are shelves deep in that room that contain scrolls about the creation of the items. I'll need those scrolls to understand exactly what the power of the gathered items will mean."
Malik frowned. "But neither of us can read them. What use would they be to you?"
"The matter of deciphering is simple enough. All we have to do is find a willing scribe and pay him off to read out the scrolls' secrets. It wouldn't be a difficult task. Would you be willing to do it, though? Find the scrolls, get a horse from town, and head to Kul Elna?"
"Yes," Malik said firmly. "I'll do it."
Bakura looked pleased. "Great. Then all that remains is the details."
The rest of the night, Bakura and Malik sat on the old blankets, covering all the details of their plan. Bakura told Malik exactly how to find the haunted village and what to look for in the scrolls. He coached him on being stealthy and what to do in case someone caught him. He even gave Malik tips on how to go about stealing a horse.
It must have been two or three in the morning by the time their conspiratorial talk ceased and they simply sat, leaning against the wall and talking about other things.
Malik had a particular doubt he finally expressed. It was a natural thing to worry, and the past several days Malik had had the nagging feeling that things had been going too well, too much according to plan.
"What if something goes wrong? What if your plans are intercepted and they manage to fool you?" And, in a quieter voice, Malik asked, "What if you're hurt?"
Bakura smiled and wrapped his arms around Malik. "Don't worry. My plans have gone remarkably well so far. They still underestimate my abilities. They're still scattered. They don't know how to stop me."
That didn't quite pacify Malik, but settled his worry for the moment. Perhaps Bakura did stand a chance if the inner court continued to be unsuspecting of Bakura's movements.
"After your revenge, you'll run off, won't you?" Malik asked as another doubt emerged. "You'll go off into the desert to live the rest of your life?"
"Yes," Bakura said simply, and tugged Malik closer. "But I'll be awfully lonely without a companion."
Malik smiled. "You won't mind me joining you, then, will you?"
Bakura stared quietly in Malik's eyes for a moment. "I haven't broached this subject yet because I know how great the palace life must be for you. I doubt you'd want to live a thief's life with me."
"You're wrong," Malik returned simply. "My life isn't that great here, as I told you the first time we met. I'd rather live out the rest of it out there, in the desert, in the unknown. With you."
Bakura said nothing, but it was clear by the tenderness in his face that he appreciated the words. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Malik's, slipping his hands into the blond strands, and opened his mouth to let Malik deepen the kiss. Malik closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of Bakura's hands in his hair as he explored Bakura's warm mouth. He knew that their conversation didn't seem quite over; there were many doubts Malik still had about Bakura's plans. But they had discussed those sorts of things enough, and for the moment, thinking had to be cast aside.
Malik shifted and wrapped his arms around Bakura, pressing his fingertips over his back, enjoying the warmth of Bakura's body beneath him. Their movements had begun languidly, but now there was a tinge of hurry to them. Bakura bit Malik's shoulder a bit more forcefully, and Malik ground his hips into Bakura's groin insistently, as though there was no time to waste.
Malik's tan robe was pulled up over his head in an instant, and the next second, Bakura's red robe, Ring, and the navy cloth around his waist were thrown off. Malik's heart sped up; the feel of Bakura's naked skin on his own never failed to excite him. Then, Bakura entangled his legs with Malik's, and grabbing his hips, flipped them over, towering above Malik with his white hair cascading down.
But Malik didn't have much time to enjoy the sight of Bakura above him, as the thief lowered his mouth to Malik's chest to bite and lick his nipples, driving him wild, until Malik grabbed the blankets beneath him and screwed his eyes shut. He squirmed beneath Bakura, turned on beyond belief. He scratched down the length of Bakura's back in pleasure, pressing him closer.
"Malik," Bakura breathed, nibbling on the outer shell of Malik's ear. "It's the last night we'll be here. The last night we'll have some privacy and a shelter, for a while. Do you want to—"
"Yes," Malik replied quickly, breathing shallowly. "Yes, right now. And don't make me wait a second longer."
They'd never done this before, and Malik didn't have much of a clue how it worked, but he wanted it, no matter how painful he anticipated it would be.
Bakura hesitated for a moment but then he reached into one of the shelves quickly, and when Malik caught sight of his hands, he noticed that they were smothered in oil.
"What is that?"
Bakura reddened, which struck Malik as very odd. "It's almond oil. I've been, ah—anticipating us doing this for a little while, and decided to be prepared."
"Have you done this before, then?" Malik asked curiously.
Bakura blushed again. "No, of course not. Who else would I have done it with?"
The answer both soothed Malik and caused him to be more nervous. If neither of them knew what they were doing, it was bound to be even messier. But however it turned out, Malik decided, he would cherish the experience nonetheless.
"You should calm down," Bakura suggested, eyeing the tenseness in Malik's face. "It'll probably be worse if you're tense. Actually, since my hands are all oiled up anyway, flip over. I'll massage you."
Malik flipped himself over, finding the situation a bit funny. Then, a moment later, he felt Bakura's cool hands on his warm back, rubbing him up and down, and working out the knots in his back. The oil made the whole ordeal smooth and relaxing, as Bakura sat on his lower back and pressed the palms of his hands into Malik's tense muscles.
Several minutes later, Bakura ceased his ministrations and Malik turned to lie on his back again, indeed feeling much calmer. Bakura retrieved more oil for his hands, and Malik breathed in deeply as the reality of what was about to happen caught up to him. Clearing his thoughts, he simply nodded at Bakura to proceed.
Bakura oiled himself as well, perhaps to make the ordeal easier, and Malik couldn't help but be turned on by the sight of Bakura with his hands on himself. He reached up and kissed him fervently, hoping that the simple action would show that Malik trusted Bakura entirely with this process, no matter how it turned out. A moment later, Bakura pushed one of his oiled fingers in.
Malik tensed up immediately.
"Calm down," Bakura reminded him, and reached his unoccupied hand behind Malik's head to draw him forward to kiss him firmly. "Don't think about it for now, and then it'll get better."
Malik nodded, and a moment later, Bakura pushed in another finger, loosening him. Malik expected pain, considering what Bakura was doing, but the oil really seemed to help. He was uncomfortable—the feeling was strange and unfamiliar—but his discomfort was nowhere near what he expected.
When he was sufficiently loosened, Bakura placed one of his hands on Malik's hips to steady the both of them, and used the other to guide himself.
He pushed in. Malik bit his bottom lip, his discomfort deepening as Bakura dug deeper. The intrusive feeling was surprising and foreign, but still bearable.
"It'll get better, I promise," Bakura whispered.
In that moment, he pressed in and filled Malik entirely, causing the boy to wince as Bakura settled himself.
Bakura simply sat for a moment, letting Malik get used to the feeling, then he began moving. Keeping both hands on Malik to steady himself, he thrust in and out slowly. Malik breathed shallowly, keeping his hands on Bakura's back. He stared into Bakura's eyes, finding that the sight calmed him.
Then, Bakura moved faster, and Malik's breath caught at the quickening tempo. He shifted to alleviate his discomfort a bit and in that moment, Bakura hit upon something indescribable, causing Malik to gasp and squirm with pleasure. The movement excited Bakura, and he suddenly thrust in deeper, eliciting a moan from Malik. Yes, he decided, it certainly had gotten better. Then, thinking to make the experience better for him, Bakura reached around and grabbed Malik by his cock, and moved his hand up and down. Malik screwed his eyes shut and bucked his hips, now moaning and completely lost in the moment.
"I won't last long if you do that," Malik panted.
The rhythm of Bakura moving in and out of him—and his hand all over him—was too much. Malik squirmed and pressed Bakura closer, moving his hips with the same rhythm Bakura had set.
"Good," Bakura replied, his breath short as well, "because I won't either."
It ended quicker than perhaps either of them had expected.
Several minutes later, Bakura's lips parted as he threw his head back, and Malik felt something fill him. The sight of Bakura coming and the hand he still kept firmly on Malik pushed him over the edge quickly, and moments later, he spilled all over Bakura's hand.
Bakura dropped down on Malik's chest, completely spent. Malik still breathed a bit shallowly as he wrapped his arms over the thief, whose back was covered in sweat. Bakura laid his head on Malik's shoulder and breathed deeply.
They lay like that, without speaking, for quite a while. Neither was willing to move and neither felt the allure of sleep, though it must have been at least four in the morning by then. The fearful unknown of the next day, when Bakura rode out to Kul Elna and Malik was left behind to find the scrolls was suddenly catching up to the two of them. The world had been theirs for the night, but Malik knew deep in his heart that their journey wasn't over yet, and the danger hadn't passed.
In fact, he was afraid more than anything that the worst was yet to come.
A/N: So, that was my first real lemon. I hope it went alright?
Thank you to all who've been reading/reviewing this story so far! I love hearing what you think!