Up early because I've totally had this finished for a week, and I need something to distract me for a few minutes from studying for my Japanese test. I suck. Soooooooo bad. At Japanese. Should have taken Latin. But anyways~~~

Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Or "Friday." Kthnx

Chapter Eleven: Which Seat Can I Take?

There were few things that Marik had ever seen Bakura fear. The ancient spirit of the Sennen Ring was probably the most fearless person Marik knew of. Whether this was because he had lived for thousands of years and thus encountered every fearsome thing that breathed darkness, or because he was just an idiot, Marik did not know. What he did know was that it was almost a magical thing, watching Bakura face each and every obstacle he came up against without even a bat of his eyes, much less the slightest moment's hesitation or flinch. It was like there was literally nothing on the surface of the planet for Bakura to fear. This was the way Marik found himself thinking. That was why, when he finally did find something Bakura was truly scared of, it came as such a shock to him.

The day was normal enough. Marik told his sister that he was going out; aforementioned sister told him that he better not be seeing Bakura again. Marik conveniently left the house before she could insist that he answer if he was or wasn't. After the avoided confrontation, Marik hopped on his bike, drove to the apartment Ryou Bakura was renting, and climbed up the fire escape to the right floor. He could have used the entrance, of course, but since Ryou hadn't been in control for some time, and Bakura wasn't about to waste the money he received from his stolen goods on something silly like paying rent, the landlord wasn't exactly accommodating when he learned of who Marik was constantly visiting.

Upon reaching the correct floor, Marik hopped off the ladder and walked until he came to the proper window. A few people still peered nosily out their windows when he passed, but most were used to his strange visits by this point. When he located the window to Ryou Bakura's living room, he opened the pane up and squeezed inside, then sat on the couch with his feet up until whenever Bakura noticed he was here.

Sometimes Bakura wasn't at the apartment when Marik stopped by, and he eventually entered using the same path Marik himself had earlier. Other times, Bakura was still sleeping, and if he took too long, Marik got bored enough to rummage through the apartment and check out any new objects Bakura had managed to liberate from their rightful owners. If Bakura still wasn't up by then, Marik climbed into the bed with the spirit, and although things usually took an hour longer, they were eventually both up and at 'em.

Today Bakura seemed to be asleep, so Marik took to looking around the apartment. Unfortunately, there really wasn't anything new for him to examine, so he soon headed to Bakura's room. He opened the door wide enough so he could slip in, and not any more. Bakura liked to sleep in the utter darkness that could only be accomplished by hanging heavy drapes over every window and covering any and all lights or small openings, and as such was very sensitive to any light that did enter his sanctuary. Marik had to be careful to not shine too much, lest Bakura awaken. And he didn't want that happening just yet.

Marik trod as quietly to the bed as a mouse stirring on Christmas Eve. He came to a stop only at the bed itself, and then as he prepared to jump onto the bed and the bundle of blankets that could only be Bakura, a cold hand reached out and grabbed his arm and Marik screamed bloody murder.

It was of course, only Bakura, who found the entire thing to be hilarious. Marik didn't. So in retaliation he tore the heavy drapes away from the windows, letting in the accursed sun, which burnt Bakura as thoroughly as it would a vampire, or at least it sounded that way by all the screaming he did. Marik found this to be hilarious. Bakura didn't. Either way, they were quite even, and thus could continue the day.

It would be a normal day for the two of them. Scope out some potential houses to break into and steal from later on when the day grew dark, stop at some shitty restaurant to get food and not pay, and then cause some havoc on the normal denizens that called Domino home. The only difference was that while they normal traveled on foot, this time Marik had brought with him his motorbike, thinking that they could widen their scope of activity some.

"I'm not riding that," Bakura announced decisively upon seeing the metal contraption.

"What are you talking about?" Marik questioned. He didn't know yet that Bakura was quite uncomfortable with driving on the hulking beast.

"I'm not riding on that. We can walk, just like we always do."

This attitude threw Marik off some. He couldn't think of any reason why Bakura would not want to take the motorcycle. He did not contemplate the idea that Bakura might be afraid of the thing, because he had seen Bakura in other modern modes of transportation, like taxis or buses, and the spirit had never had problems with any of those. The only thing he could think was that he was just being contrary now.

"And why might that be?" he asked sarcastically.

"There's not even anywhere for me to sit on the thing!" Bakura exclaimed. Marik smiled deviously.

"Of course there is. You take the bitch seat," he announced with no small amount of glee. He had known, of course, that Bakura would take bitch, but the fact had not fully dawned on him until this moment, and now his enjoyment at Bakura's seething discomfort was palpable in the air around them, as apparent at the huge grin he wore on his face.

"I'm not taking bitch," Bakura argued with only a twitch to give away his irritation.

"Yeah, you are," Marik said. "It's my motorcycle, and I know how to drive it. Unless you have one of your own that you'd like to take, we're driving mine, and you're riding bitch. So do you, Bakura? Do you have a bike of your own hidden around here where I'm not looking? Is it in the back? No? Maybe near the garbage dumpster then, and I'm just not seeing it? Well that's strange, I don't see anything there either!"

Throughout his entire performance, Bakura grew steadily angrier and angrier by the moment. He felt like he was being made fun of, and he did not like this one bit. So as Marik paraded around looking for the imaginary motorcycle they both knew he would not find because it of course did not exist, Bakura decided to do something that would make the other shut up. The problem was, the only thing he could think of to make Marik stop prancing would be to just take the bitch seat, and he was not going to do that. Not even because he did not want to sit bitch, but because he did not want to sit on the motorcycle at all, period.

Eventually Marik grew bored of continuing his faux-search. There was only so much time he could spend humiliating the other, and by the look of the angry red blush on Bakura's face, he had done his job well. So he walked to the motorcycle and took a seat atop it and waited for Bakura to climb on behind him. The only problem was that Bakura did not do this. The paler teen continued to stand defiantly away from the motorcycle, giving it a look that was a mixture of fierce hatred and something almost akin to nerves, but Marik was quick to dismiss that notion because he couldn't believe it. The idea of Bakura being nervous of his motorcycle was so hilarious and uncanny that it of course could not be true. He just did not want to ride bitch.

"I can wait here all day, Bakura. You're going to have to get on eventually," Marik called to his companion cheerfully. Bakura eyed the machine distrustfully, then shook his head.

"I don't have to get anywhere near the thing if I don't want to. You'll be the fool sitting there waiting for something that's not going to happen," he pointed out.

"But you'll be the one who has to deal with my sister when she comes looking for me," Marik argued. Bakura was forced to cede that point to Marik. He did not want to be the catalyst for forcing a meeting with Marik's sister, for he knew the boy was stubborn enough to remain there all night, and thus force Isis to come out and look for him, even if he would get an earful as well. But he was still not riding the bike, and Marik must have seen this, for he sighed dramatically.

"Come on, Bakura! We're burning daylight! If we're going to hit someone up tonight, we've got to figure out who to hit up first! We can't just go in there blind, unless you're hoping to get arrested," Marik said.

"I would never get arrested," Bakura said defensively, recoiling a bit to protect his pride, as if Marik had tried to take a physical jab at it with his comment. The boy who'd said the careless words rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Okay, I know you wouldn't ever get caught, but we still shouldn't go in there without checking the place out first! There might be nothing to get from the entire thing!" Another point to Marik with this one. People nowadays hardly kept anything of any real value in their houses anymore, much to Bakura's disappointment. If he didn't take the time to thoroughly investigate his target, he could waste an entire night on nothing more than some cheap oil paintings and silver tarnished spoons. Even that thought was still not enough to force him to approach the metallic death trap, which Marik saw easily enough.

"Come on! This is just stupid! I won't even bring up the fact that you're sitting bitch, okay? I promise," Marik said. He was beginning to get frustrated now. He had wanted to be on the road about twenty minutes ago, but instead they were still sitting here debating on which seat to take. And Bakura didn't look ready to move from his glaring match with the bike any time soon. Marik was forced to get up and walk over to the male, place his arms around the other's skinny waist, and actually drag him to the bike.

Bakura protested against this like a cat about to take a bath. He jumped and jerked in his struggle to get away from the bike, clawed and hissed, and looked just as fearful as the animal he was portraying would. Perhaps it was this comparison that finally made the idea hit home, or perhaps it was something entirely different, but Marik finally saw that his initial thought had been right, and that Bakura really was just afraid of the motorcycle. The thought was so stunning to him that he released Bakura without putting up any further of a fight.

Bakura, once he escaped from Marik's lackluster grip, dashed away from the motorcycle and only stopped once he was a reasonable distance away and convinced that it could not somehow spring to life and devour him. He glanced suspiciously over to Marik, curious as to why he had let him go, and saw with a kind of horror he has not felt for a great many years that an understanding was dawning on Marik's face, and then the other teen was looking at him with a dancing half-smile.

"You're afraid of it, aren't you?" Marik asked with a widening grin.

"No!" Bakura protested quickly. A little too quickly, he realized too late. Marik did as well, and in an instant he was laughing, laughing like he'd never laughed before, and Bakura's face was burning pinker than even Ryou's ever had.

"I'm not! I just don't want to sit bitch!" he argued. But there was no saving himself now, because Marik already knew, and he'd most likely not even heard Bakura's comment over the raucous sound of his braying laughter. Marik was literally rolling on the ground at this point, pressing tightly his arms to his chest, tears actually falling from his tightly squeezed eyes. Bakura longed to jump on the boy and teach him some manners, but a weary glance informed him that Marik was still near the motorbike, and he didn't want to get too close to that. He didn't know why he was afraid, and that made the fact that he so obviously was even worse. If he knew the reasoning behind his fear he could perhaps do something to destroy it, but at things were, he was just blindly afraid of the machine.

"Oh god!" Marik laughed. "Oh god! You-you're actually… actually… Oh god!" Bakura frowned.

"It's not that funny!" he called out.

"Oh yes it is!" Marik responded with mirth.

His laughter went on for another ten painful minutes at least, each one deserving the honor of being forever remembered in Bakura's own personal hell. The moment he thought the boy was finally over it, the insane chortles just started up all over again. By the time he had finally stopped laughing and picked himself off the ground, he was still bursting out in sporadic chuckles every time he took a cursory glance at Bakura's agitated form.

"Okay… Okay, I'm done. Seriously, I'm done now," Marik said. And then had to cover his mouth as another giggle escaped him. Bakura just stared, very much not impressed. Eventually, after several deep breathes and several minutes longer, Marik calmed himself down. Although Bakura was sure he would start laughing at his misfortune again the minute he was by himself.

"Look umm… I don't really know what to say, but you don't have to be afraid, okay Bakura? I'm a really good driver, so we're not going to get into an accident or anything. And even if we do, and our bodies are horribly mangled in the wreckage, you're immortal, so you'll just go back into the Ring anyways, right? So no problems!" Marik announced cheerfully. Bakura's eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes. I'll just be stuck inside that damn thing until an idiot like you decides to pick it up and put it on. That makes me feel a lot better," he said sarcastically.

"Well, the chances of wrecking are pretty slim, so you won't even have to worry about that anyways," Marik said, ignoring the insult. Right about now, nothing could possible hope to dampen his sprits. Learning of Bakura's nonsensical fear had cheered him up far too much.

"I'm still not getting on that thing," Bakura argued.

"Nothing's going to happen! I proooomise, Bakura!" Marik insisted. He left the bike to approach Bakura for a second time, who understandably backed away. Marik gave him a dirty look, and feeling a little foolish, Bakura stood still. He let himself be led closer to the bike, although his first reaction was still to bolt away from the thing. He even let Marik sit him down on it, and then gripped Marik's waist tightly when he joined him on the narrow seat.

"See? It's not so bad," Marik said softly. From the grip Bakura had on him, he was very well aware of the state his companion was in, but he couldn't resist turning his bike on and revving it up. Bakura flinched violently and almost fell off the bike he was so surprised by the sudden vibrations of the engine. What he did instead was cling even tighter to Marik's waist, who was about to laugh again, but suddenly couldn't because of how tight Bakura's grip was.

"Bakura…!" Marik croaked out. He tugged on the other male's arm and thankfully Bakura got the message and released him.

"Don't. Do. That!" Bakura spat out. Even while fearing for his very life he still managed to sound threatening, which was quite the accomplishment, all things considered.

"Okay! Just don't squeeze me again!" Marik complained. He shut off the bike engine. The moment it stopped vibrating Bakura had jumped off and was again staring at the machine distastefully.

"So. That wasn't too bad, was it? Want to try riding it now?" Marik questioned.

"No," Bakura said without any sort of preamble. Marik sighed. He'd actually thought he was getting somewhere.

"Bakura, there is nothing to be afraid of here! I'm not going to get into a crash, and if you're really that worried, you can hold on to me as tightly as you want, so long as you don't try to crush me again," Marik said.

"That's not it."

Something about his voice caught Marik by surprise, and he looked up at Bakura expectantly. The paler of the two was still looking at the bike suspiciously, but he seemed to have calmed somewhat now. Marik had no idea what could still be preventing him from just getting on the bike so they could get a move on.

"Then what is it?" he asked. Bakura lifted his head from the motorbike, and grinned a little, looking more like himself instead of the frightened person he'd been before.

"I'm not sitting in the bitch seat," he announced. Marik's jaw almost dropped at the arbitrary nature of the statement, and then caught himself in time before he could complete the action and look like a fool. Instead, he gave a coy little smile of his own and gestured over to the motorcycle, and with it, the dreaded bitch seat.

"You are most definitely taking that seat, my little bitch," he purred seductively. "After all, I am the one with the bike, and the one that can drive it, and you are the one who has the deadly fear."

Bakura, rather calmly considering, walked over straight up to Marik, not stopping his movements in fear of the monstrous bike that intimidated him with every sweeping step he took. Marik thought he were going to take the bitch seat without any further fighting, so was completely surprised when instead he received a fierce uppercut to the side of his head that actually knocked him flat off the bike and onto his butt in the dirt. He sat there in shock for a few seconds, and by the time he stood up again to yell at Bakura for taking such an underhanded and dirty move, the teen was already back inside the building. He decided that even if Marik did remain sitting on that bike for the entire night, he could deal with Isis when she came around after all.

So short! Yaayy! And I realized that in pretty much every single chapter I've written, there's always been a kiss. So no kiss. I defied myself, haha. Umm, so yeah, shortness, woot. Next chapter will not be short. If I tell you all right now there's character death in it, will you hate me? Because there is. But it's not a total angst-fest, or at least so far it's not, so that still good? But yeap, that's it, so give me a review voicing your opinion on the latest, and thanks!

Also. On the motorcycle of life, be sure to ask yourself this: Am I riding bitch? ;)