***Haruhi_Lawiet asked for 2-body Conspireshipping during Battle City.***

Marik threw Bakura to the ground before he had a chance to say something sardonic. He went straight for Bakura's creamy white throat. He'd been wanting to taste Bakura's skin since he'd first seen him.

"What the hell, Marik?" Bakura squirmed beneath him.

"Why are you asking?" Marik bit Bakura's throat twice before finished. "It's obvious what I'm doing."

"I . . ." Bakura groaned a little at the bites, ". . . this - bad idea."

For someone who thought it was a bad idea, he was arching beautifully into Marik's chest and baring his throat for Marik's teeth to decorate with more bite marks.

Marik snorted. "What? Afraid of getting caught?" He pressed himself between Bakura's legs, demonstrating why it was worth the risk.

"I don't think . . . I can stay in cn-. . ." Bakura groaned and then seemed to faint.

Marik blinked. He started chuckling, trying to decide if he should give up or splash water on Bakura's face to wake him up. Then Marik remembered that Bakura had left the hospital too soon after stabbing himself in order for them to both be present at Battle City. Marik pushed up. checking Bakura's bandages to make sure he hadn't re-opened his wound.

A gasp drew Marik's attention back to Bakura. "Are you awake now? What the hell is wrong with you? We've hardly gotten to the foreplay and you're already passing out."

"Foreplay?" The face looking up at Marik looked confused, and sounded different somehow.

"Bakura, are you okay?"

"Namu?"

Then Marik figured out what had happened. "Oooops," Marik flashed a devilish smile at Bakura's host. "Sorry . . . I forgot about you."

He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. "Wait, your . . . name is Marik? You lied . . . oh, you're working with him." He blinked his cinnamon brown eyes, as if noticing Marik wedged into his crotch for the first time. Ryou sighed. "Well, this is nicer than waking up bleeding." He looked at Marik. "So . . . are you going to get up, or . . ."

Marik stretched, intentionally deepening the pressure he put on Bakura's groin. "I don't know. I was kinda hoping your other half would come back."

Bakura's host raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't you just use to Rod to force the issue?"

"Well, at least you're not naive." Marik intentionally didn't answer the question although he had had no intention of using the Rod.

Bakura's host gave Marik a sweet smile. He shifted a little, pressing up against Marik's erection. It caught Marik off guard and a pleasent grunt escaped him. Ryou leaned close to Marik's ear, tickling Marik with his warm breath. "Are you as curious as I am to see how this would play out if you kept going?" He pressed up against Marik a second time, and a third. "I want to know if he will come back out if I get too stimulated. What do you think? Will we keep switching or will one finally settle in?"

Marik focused on keeping his voice steady and detached although the need to pant was becoming strong. "You're taking this rather, ngh, well."

"I'd rather test this out now and know what I'm going to be in for later. Possessed or not, I have no intention of taking a vow of celibacy."

Marik thought about it for a moment. Then he smirked. "Then let us consider this a ménages à trois."

Marik went back for Bakura's throat, but his host caught Marik's face in his hands and forced their lips to meet. Marik flinched. He never intended to get so personal as to kiss his good time on the mouth, but Ryou didn't give him much of a choice. He licked Marik's lips until the hazy rush of pheromones and hormones talked Marik into opening his mouth and allowing Ryou to swirl his tongue to the back to Marik's throat.

Marik was starting to relax in Ryou's arms, slowly melting into the moment. Just as he felt the last of his control slipping, Ryou pulled away and grumbled in a harsher voice. "Dammit, stop that and just let him fuck us."

"So you can talk to him?" Marik asked.

Bakura looked at Marik. "If I feel like it. Can we hurry this up before the tournament actually starts?"

"Turn on your stomach," Marik said.

"My stomach? Fuck you. I'm not letting you fuck me from behind like I'm a dog."

Marik scowled. He didn't want a stray, excited hand reaching for his back. He tried to think of a way to manipulate the situation. "So what? You'd rather make love face to face instead?"

Bakura bristled. "Whatever. This better be worth of the bother."

He slipped off his pants and turned on all fours. Marik only stripped his pants down to his knees. He took a packet of lube out of his pocket and drizzled the gel on his fingers to get Bakura started. By the time Marik added his second finger he heard bright laughter.

"You're a bottom!" Ryou giggled. "No, you shut up."

"I'm still here." Marik scowled, feeling a little ignored as host and spirit carried on a conversation he couldn't participate in.

Ryou glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, it's hard to forget you're here when you're sort of finger fucking me, Marik."

"Classy language."

"Matches the classy atmosphere."

Marik decided that a better way to shut either Bakura up was through action. He pressed deeper, finding Bakura's prostate and dragging his fingers across it. Ryou made a pretty noise in his throat. After a few pulls of Marik's fingers, his soft coos changed to deep growls of pleasure.

"Your host is as difficult as you are."

Bakura grinned. "You're just out of sorts because neither one of us will kowtow to you."

Actually, Marik thought of that as a redeeming quality. It wasn't often that he got to spend time around people he wasn't controlling - Rishid didn't count. And they were perfect to look at. He liked Bakura's extra messy hair better, but the noises both of them made as he toyed with them were scrumptious.

Marik couldn't hold out any longer. A dark, ferral need to ravage them was consuming Marik's mind, and he almost felt detached from his body as he pushed into tightness and heat.

Bakura, or rather the spirit, screamed, pushing his hips back to meet Marik with each thrust. For a moment it stayed the two of them, and it went rather well. They moved together as if dancing or fencing, even their breaths seemed to argue and yet somehow complement each other.

Then, with a twitch, Ryou returned. "Ah! Harder!"

Marik obeyed, slamming harder into white flesh. Ryou screamed in approval, but Marik felt strange, lightheaded. It wasn't unpleasant, but he did feel a little out of control of his own body, as if something wanted to take control.

"Yes! Yes! Please! Harder!"

But Ryou's pleases drove him further, although the more Marik gave, the more something else inside him seemed to want to take.

And then he blacked out.

It'd been awhile since he last had control, and he hadn't expected to come to in the middle of trying to split another man in half - and the other man begging for it. But after a moment, his victim pulled away and turned to look at him. "You're not Marik."

He smirked, crawling closer. "Yes I am."

"You're different."

"True." He stopped a breath away from the white-haired victim before him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above the crown of his head.

The other male smiled. "You're better."

His smirk widened to a wolfish grin. "Also true." He kicked off his pants, wondering how the hell his other half managed to do his job properly while swaddled like an infant. Then he leaned over his prey and rammed inside him.

"Fuck yes! Oh, okay, um - quick intro." He paused to toss his head back and moan as Marik's shadow tore into him without pause or mercy. "I-I'm Ryou, and there's - damn you're good at this - a - a spirit in the Ring . . . Fuck yes right there!"

He didn't really care what the delicious plaything he was fucking called himself. What mattered was that he screamed, and screamed he did, and it was wonderful. Each thrust was like a knife stab. Sweat rolled down Marik's chest and dripped onto Ryou's pale stomach. Ryou hooked his left leg right below the scars that created Marik's other side, but unlike Marik, he didn't mind being touched, so he continued to stab, to pierce, to drive his victim to the very brink of madness.

Then Marik felt himself tighten, felt the urge to go even faster. He let go of his prey in order to move with everything he had. The damn runt grabbed him and kissed him as they both started to cum.

The pleasure was surreal, flooding his brain with a satisfied mix of chemicals that made it hard to stay in control. For some strange reason, he whispered Ryou's name before he sank back to the bottom of Marik's mind.

Marik had felt everything, but he couldn't remember part of it, like why his pants were off and how Bakura had gotten onto his back. He also felt a strange bond towards Bakura, one he couldn't really explain.

"That was . . ."

"Worth the bother?" Marik teased.

Bakura gave him a sleepy grin. "I suppose, though I sort of phased out right before the end, and Ryou seems to be passed out now."

Marik wondered about that for a moment, how they both seemed to have lost track of their bodies for a moment; however the sight of Bakura distracted him, and he couldn't focus. Something about Bakura's mouth, his lips, had Marik in a trance as he leaned forward and started kissing Bakura. It felt odd, to kiss him after the fact. They were done. It was over. There was no need for such a stupid gesture of affection, and yet he couldn't help it.

At first Bakura tensed, but when Marik kept kissing with no signs of pulling away, Bakura reached up and strung his fingers through Marik's golden hair.