"Honey, I'm ~hic~ a little ~hic~ drunk. Could you ~hic~ come and pick me ~hic~ up?", Noah asked, pounding his fist on the counter every time his voice leaped.

The voice on the other end of the phone was tearing up. "Are you ~hic~ crying?", Noah asked.

Marik nodded, although Noah couldn't see it. "You never call me. Ever. And, you called me 'honey', I feel better than I normally do."

Noah let out a loose hiccup. "Please ~hic~, just pick me ~hic~ up. If I don't ~hic~ go back to normal to~hic~morrow, I won't be able to ~hic~ go to work in the ~hic~ morning."

Marik hung up, and walked to the foyer. He grabbed his motorcycle helmet, and walked out. As he was about to leap onto the moped, someone put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"And, just where do you think you're going?", Bakura asked.

Marik sighed. "If you must know, Bakura, I'm headed downtown. I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Downtown," Bakura said, questioningly, "why? The only things you really find there are bars and restaurants. What use would you have for going downtown? You only eat home cooked food, and you don't drink."

"I'm picking up a friend," Marik answered, resisting the urge to throw his helmet at Bakura's head, "is that bad?"

"Depends on the friend," Bakura said.

Marik didn't answer, just put on his helmet, and started the motor. Bakura quickly jumped onto the back of the bike, as Marik drove off. "You could've, at least, stayed home! Now, someone will have to walk home," Marik yelled, "and it's going to be you!"

Bakura smiled. "No, your little friend will get the boot off the bike."

"He's drunk, right now! Do you want him to end up dead?!", Marik shouted.

Bakura didn't answer, he merely smiled. Marik stopped in front of a small building, parking the motorcycle. He forced Bakura to stay outside, commanding him to stay where he was.

His big threat was that they would no longer share a bed, which horrified Bakura, to the point where he decided to duct tape himself to the seat of the motorcycle. Marik rolled his eyes as he slowly walked into the bar.

No eyes focused on him at all. The first thing Marik noticed was someone sitting on a bar stool, with a head full of turquoise-colored hair.

"Noah!", Marik called out, despite the fact he was only a few feet away.

Noah slowly raised his head, and looked to his right side. Upon seeing Marik, he smiled, but quickly started to faint. Marik rushed to him, and caught him before he fell to the ground.

"He went a little overboard," the bartender said, cleaning a glass as he talked to Marik, his back turned, "After he called you, he ordered more whiskey. It wasn't a shot, either, it was a whole eight-ounce glass. After that, vodka, and he had the same serving as the whiskey.

"We're not allowed to deny a customer what they want, as long as they're at least 21 years old. I kept warning him, 'you might not want to do that', every time I handed him something, but he told me 'relax, I know what I'm doing'. He didn't, by a long shot."

Marik lifted Noah onto his back. "Yeah, the limit just doesn't exist with him. Thanks."

The bartender nodded. "Oh, and Marik?"

Marik turned around, in shock that this kid (well, kid compared to him) knew his name despite the fact he had never said it.

"Just know, lovers got to look out for each other. Next time, I'd suggest coming with him if there's even a chance he might go downtown. Don't let my brother get drunk again."

Something clicked in Marik's mind. "Brother? Mokuba!"

He was gone, he had vanished. "He's not my lover," Marik muttered, offended.

"Noah," Mokuba said, running a brush through his brother's hair, "why did you get drunk last night?"

Noah was still getting over the overwhelming amount of alcohol in his body. "Are you implying ~hic~, that I had a reason ~hic~ behind it?"

Mokuba nodded. "You would never get drunk to get drunk."

"Yeah," Noah admitted, as Mokuba ran the brush through his bangs, "I just wanted Marik to ~hic~ take me home."

"You like him," Mokuba informed Noah.

Noah laughed at this statement. "I guess you're right, Mokuba. Seto would ~hic~ kill me if he knew."

"He probably already does," Mokuba joked.

Both boys let out a hearty laugh, unaware of what was going on elsewhere in the house.

"He most certainly does, Mokuba," Seto Kaiba said from the control room. "And Noah's going to be in trouble, I don't care if he's older than me. He took my love once, and he's not going to do it again. Poor Marik misidentified the bartender, I'm afraid."

Kaiba chuckled.