A/N: Holy crap this chapter is long...other than that, all other notes for this chapter will be at the bottom, I don't want to give anything away ;) On a second note, though, I was dissapointed to find that no one recognized the song lyrics in the last chapter...then again, it was a Canadian song, eh? xD The song this story was inspired by/named for is called "Perfect" by Hedley and the lyrics to the chorus are: I'm not perfect, but I keep trying, cause that's what I said I would do from the start. I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave, was it something I said, or just my personality?
Disclaimer: Not Mine!
Malik knew what he was witnessing was extremely personal, none of his business, and definitely the weirdest thing he'd ever seen his nii-san do, and that was saying something, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.
Mariku began kissing his little treasure and whispering promises in his ears even as they watched, and the overall tenderness of the scene, however self-serving it may be for Mariku, was gag-worthy.
"Well…fuck."
Malik finally glanced away in surprise when Bakura's blunt words sliced through his concentration. With a sigh, seeing that his declaration of faith in this little union had caught Malik's attention, Bakura silently reached out and grabbed the blonde's arm, dragging him from the room.
"Ow, ow, ow –Bakura, where the hell are you taking me? Shouldn't we wait for them?" Malik complained, attempting to tug his arm back from Bakura's firm grasp. It didn't help that the scattered groupings of students throughout the halls who were also on lunch were giving them odd looks.
"No, Malik, I'm pretty sure they're busy," Bakura replied sardonically, with a dark strain to his voice.
What was wrong with him? It had seemed that he wanted Ryou and Mariku to get together, before. Coming to a door, Malik took one look at the kanji sign and immediately balked away from entering with Bakura, who seemed to seriously be considering it.
"I am not going into the girl's change room with you," Malik hissed, feeling heat rise to his face furiously.
Admittedly, before coming to Japan, he had had little experience with anyone outside of his family, but when he was taken into the foster system his 'parents' had stressed the importance of staying out of his 'nee-san's' room numerous times.
A couple pinches and dinnerless nights taught him his lesson very well, and he had never been tempted to find out what was so mysteriously important about a girl's room ever since.
"You are now," Bakura responded in an undertone, throwing the door open and shoving a startled Malik through forcefully.
"What? You have a problem? Keep walking, chubby," Bakura snapped rudely at a larger girl who had stopped to stare at the incredibly odd sight.
To be fair, it wasn't often you saw an albino teenager shoving an Egyptian boy into the girl's changing room, and trying to pull it off as perfectly normal.
Feeling Malik desperately clawing around him in an attempt to get out of his taboo prison, Bakura settled with glaring at the girl, rather than threatening her off of spreading any gossip.
Shutting the door firmly behind him, Bakura twisted around and hauled Malik around the bend in the wall to the open main room which was ringed by a bench and haloed with florescent lights.
"B-Bakura, we really shouldn't be here," Malik stammered quietly, looking wide-eyed around at the bench which was covered with an assortment of bags, skirts and shirts.
"What? It's not like they take their bras and panties off unless they're swimming," Bakura defended, shoving aside a couple packs brusquely, and then shoving Malik equally brusquely down in their place.
"W-what do you think you're doing?" Malik demanded, as he batted Bakura's hands away nervously. Bakura stepped back, raising an eyebrow incredulously.
"Just trying to keep you where I can see you so you Ishtar's will stop blindsiding me," Bakura replied dryly, though the rapid tapping of his foot and twitch of his fingers hinted that he wasn't coping as well with this 'blindsiding' as his tone implied.
"Um…are you okay?" Malik asked awkwardly, though he found himself calmer, as he realized there wasn't anything incriminating in the change room, let alone any females.
It may have also helped to know Bakura wasn't trying to pull a fast one now that Mariku and Ryou were…distracted.
"No," Bakura answered shortly, and Malik supposed he shouldn't be surprised by his blunt honesty, but he was anyways. The Thief King let out a muffled groan of frustration, and began pacing to kill the jitters that were coursing through his body.
At this point, he would normally go out and steal something to calm himself down, but he had made a direct promise to Ryou that he wouldn't steal from the school. Ryou was certain their otou-san would be even more ashamed of them if they had to move schools again, and he still blamed enough of what had happened when they lived in England on himself.
The other emotional release that Bakura had found as he got older was sex, but, as one glance in Malik's direction confirmed, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Especially not with what had come up in the classroom mere minutes ago…
"Tell me about what happened with your otou-san," Bakura suddenly demanded, wheeling around to face Malik again. The kid immediately became still, before slowly drawing his knees to his chest.
"I'd rather not," he said coldly, staring Bakura down intensely.
"It doesn't affect you anymore?" Bakura sneered, as though finding that hard to believe.
"Of course it does," Malik responded hotly, "but that doesn't make it your business. I had a bad childhood. Lots of kids do. I screwed up my own nii-san by not being able to deal with it on my own, and then I screwed up your onii-san by unleashing Mariku on him." Malik sighed shakily, shaking his head harshly.
"But I know that wasn't my fault." Bakura fell silent, pausing in his pacing for a moment.
"I can't comment on your past, but the part with Ryou wasn't," he finally said, struggling to keep his tone neutral, "I'm sure you've figured it out already, but he was diagnosed with PTSD after…after he took the blame for what happened to ka-san and Amane."
"PTSD? Isn't that what soldiers get?" Malik asked, shaken out of his icy coolness by surprise.
"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder just requires a trauma, and our childhood was very traumatic for him," Bakura responded irritably, as though Malik had insulted him by implying that Ryou was less traumatized than he obviously was.
Calming himself, he added hesitantly, "As you've seen, anything that reminds him of what happened makes him panic. Your onii-san just happened to do a particular good job of that on a regular basis. Not that he told me."
There was a definite tinge of bitterness to that last part, and Bakura was quick to resume his pacing. After following him with his eyes for several long moments, Malik finally decided his curiosity over the disjointed timeline of events was worth striking a deal to resolve.
"I'll offer you a deal," he offered quietly, uncertainty already rising up within him. "You think this is a good time to joke around about deals?" Bakura snarled, and Malik flinched back towards the wall.
"I wasn't joking. I want to know about your past, and you want to know about mine. I'll…I'll even go first," he muttered, and stared at the ground stubbornly.
A pair of sneakers came into his vision, and for a moment he was certain he was going to get a kick in the face for his trouble. His eyes closed on reflex –but all that followed was a disgruntled sigh and a thump that indicated Bakura sitting down beside him.
"I'm a sick and twisted bastard, aren't I?" Bakura asked quietly, jerking his fingers through his knotted hair.
"Maybe," Malik responded evenly, and Bakura shot him a glare, though his mouth twisted unwillingly into a small smirk.
"You're really good at this comforting thing aren't you?" He mocked, and Malik rolled his eyes.
"Like you were so much better," he replied, and as the words left his mouth he realized what he was implying. There eyes met for a moment, and then he quickly looked away, flustered.
"Not that I…I mean…oh, whatever, we already had that conversation. Besides, it's not like there's all that much to my story," Malik quickly covered up.
Bakura considered pressing Malik about what was wrong with his form of 'comfort', but figured the kid was probably utterly confused anyways, without Bakura messing him up more.
"So? If it's short, it shouldn't be hard to tell," he challenged instead, and Malik folded his arms uncomfortably.
"Well…I was born in Egypt, as you know. Mariku was born first, and then me a year later. My otou-san was always a little bit on the…different side, you might say, so he didn't let my ka-san go to the doctor, or really leave the house at all.
He said that the gods were punishing me for trying to emerge from ka-san too soon after they already had one son, and that, in her jealousy, Isis killed ka-san to make sure she would be barren forever.
In retrospect, it doesn't make much sense, but nii-san inherited otou-san's gift of story telling, and if that's anything to go by, it's no wonder that I was so easily convinced that I was cursed.
Anyways, because he was the first born, otou-san never tried to hurt Mariku like he did me, but he blamed me for my ka-san's death. At first, I took his beatings because he convinced me that I deserved them, but the older I got the more I realized that otou-san had lost it when ka-san died.
No other woman would marry such a controlling man, and he always scared them away with his roughness. My ka-san brought grace into his life, kind of like…" Malik glanced nervously at Bakura, but he just nodded.
"Like Ryou puts up with Mariku and makes him see sense," Bakura agreed.
"I think my otou-san was always a little eccentric, you know, convincing himself that he knew what the gods were thinking, but it was so much worse on the days that he went out and saw…saw women that reminded him of ka-san," Malik continued, a slight tremor in his voice.
"He sometimes thought that maybe it was her ba, released from her body after she died, but attached to another immediately so that he could find her again. In the end, though, he always decided that it wasn't her.
It made him crazy with grief to realize he had not found her, after all, and that was when he would rape me.
He believed, as most do, that Khnum created me on his potter's wheel, and inserted me into ka-san. Meskhenet was then supposed to breathe my ka into me –but that was when his logic broke apart in his grief.
He became more and more convinced each time he thought he had found my ka-san's ba that her ba was out there, wandering, unable to unite with her ka in the afterlife, because in the moment of my birth I stole my oka-san's spirit, her ka, and took it for myself.
So, along this logic, his thought that…that having…sex with me would transfer some of her ka back into him, so that with his ba and her ka they could form an akh together when he moved onto the afterlife, and his abandoned ka would find her wandering ba in this world."
Bakura felt his head spinning, trying to follow the convoluted logic. Egyptian mythology wasn't exactly his expertise, but even he knew the Ishtar's otou-san had messed something up along the way.
That just wasn't the way it worked, if these things worked at all, which Bakura didn't think they did, but he wasn't about to say that to Malik.
"I didn't understand his logic at all, but I knew it was wrong," Malik said, echoing Bakura's thoughts perfectly. "I just knew that there was no way I had stolen my ka-san's spirit. If I had I would have been able to calm otou-san the way she had…but I never could.
Nothing I said, no sound I made, no screaming, ever got through to him. Still, I was too weak to resist, and too young to realize that, on the few occasions I was able to leave the house, telling someone else about what was happening might have gotten me out of that place."
"You did eventually, though," Bakura pointed out.
His mental timeline informed him that Mariku had been in Ryou's class when they were eleven, so they must have been in Japan before the Touzoku's arrived.
Even if they came only the year before that would have made Malik only nine at the oldest, since he was younger than Mariku by a year.
"Not until I was seven," Malik explained patiently, swallowing down his emotions with difficulty.
"Because…?" Bakura prompted, and Malik shuddered painfully.
"Because, he…he did something bad. Much worse than what he did to me," Malik replied, fighting back the tears of revulsion desperately. It had been hard enough not to cry out when he first saw it with his own eyes.
Bakura raised an eyebrow but smartly remained silent this time. Worse than raping his own son? Apparently, the kid did have an altruistic streak.
"He…he found another woman while he was working, one who he was certain held my ka-san's ba. He kidnapped her and brought her home…he knocked out a defenceless woman and…and he…"
"Killed her," Bakura finished for him, realizing that Malik was unable to make the words come out.
"He thought that he knew how to release her…he thought…I don't know. I don't know what he was thinking, but what he did was unforgiveable, terrible. That was when I had to tell Mariku," Malik let out shakily, looking away with another shudder.
"When I told him, Mariku was also disgusted by otou-san and he promised to…to punish him. The noises woke me up in the night, but by the time I worked up the nerve to go downstairs the screaming had stopped, and Mariku had covered him with a sheet so I wouldn't see."
Malik felt the next part catching in his throat, and dropped his face to his hands in frustration and shame.
After only brief hesitation, Bakura decided to try what had worked last time: he reached out and pulled the lean Egyptian into his lap, looping his arms around his waist from behind.
Malik let out a sadly startled noise, but it was almost as weak as his attempt to resist settling into his friend's comforting embrace. He knew it was the best Bakura could do to sympathize with his pain.
Looking up at Bakura slowly, Malik's gaze wavered, confusing emotions battling within them.
"He'll tell you, Mariku will, that I asked him to kill otou-san, and I let him say so, because I don't want him to…you know, lose it again, but…but I don't remember doing that.
I remember that I told him about what otou-san did to that woman, and to me, and then Mariku promising to punish him…but I don't think Mariku meant to kill him then. I think he went too far and that was when he…he…"
Bakura pulled Malik's head down to his neck, letting him stay there for a moment as he fought off the tears and confusion of his muddled childhood. On one hand, it was hard to forget such a traumatizing event, but on the other, Bakura knew all about trying to recall exactly what happened so fast so long ago.
"Psychoses run in the family, you know. Mariku probably had…has…whatever your otou-san had. He had a break with reality, or maybe he thought the gods were telling him he had to and later rationalized it away as you asking him to. He was only eight, Malik, he couldn't have known better than you."
Malik nodded slowly, breathing deeply into Bakura's cool skin before sitting up and pulling away slightly though is fingers remained loosely knotted in his jacket.
"You were older than him, right?" Malik asked, needing to hear that he wasn't the only messed up one. It was obvious that he was referring to what had happened with the Touzoku's ka-san and Amane-chan, but it wasn't as easy for Bakura to respond as it had been to listen.
After all, he still held some of his own guilt over what had happened, and it was hard to say that Mariku wasn't guilty when he himself was barely older than the elder Ishtar on the day of the 'accident'.
"I was nine," Bakura finally responded evenly, pulling Malik back to his chest swiftly. If he was going to tell this story, he wasn't going to tell it looking someone else in the eyes.
He was afraid his emotions would get the better of him, seeing Malik react to everything that had happened, and he would give away what he was really feeling.
Guilt was the last thing he wanted Malik to believe was the right emotion.
"When we were kids living in England, me and Ryou used to play a lot of card games, you know, the type where you collect them and build your deck to beat other players. Ryou was a sweet kid so he felt bad beating other people, but I was pretty ruthless in taking on the other kids at school," Bakura chuckled slightly at the memory.
"I bet you were a bastard back then, too," Malik teased, and Bakura flicked the back of his head lightly.
"I guess so. Mostly, I just wanted to be the onii-san my ka-san wanted me to be. She told me that Ryou was sweet and innocent, but he wasn't powerful like me, so it was my job to take care of Amane and Ryou, and not let anyone take advantage of them.
She was worried they would try to stop being innocent and good if they were ever put down for their attitudes, but she didn't realize that it was that innocence that would get Ryou in the most trouble."
"Was she like them?" Malik asked quietly, wrapping his arms gingerly around Bakura's waist. He felt like a child despite being taller than his 'friend', but this reminded him of when Mariku would tell him stories when they were younger.
He really was a great story teller, even if his stories weren't always the good type.
"She was just like them. It was me who is like our otou-san. I push people away and rationalize away anything I do wrong," Bakura admitted with a sigh, though he'd come to terms with this a long time ago and accepted it.
"Ka-san was wonderful to everyone. Even though she had experienced some hurts in her life, she kept the faith that most people were good if you gave them the chance. That was the way she raised the three of us, but Ryou took her literally and trusted everyone, and I saw that she only meant for us to give people a chance, not to forgive and accept anything."
"That was his attitude when he met the man who sold us the trading cards at the nearby convenience store. Ryou was so proud that otou-san and ka-san trusted him to go on his own after he turned nine, and he would always offer to go get a slushy for me or a new pack of cards just so he could show that he could do it on his own.
Sometimes it took him a really long time to come back, but he was always excited and apologetic when he returned. He said he'd made friends with the man who worked behind the counter.
I made fun of him for having a crush, and when ka-san overheard one time, she reprimanded me strictly. She was very firm that there was nothing wrong with having a crush on anyone, as long as they were a good person.
I understood what she meant, but I don't think Ryou did, because he still believed that everyone was good. I started following him to the store and waiting outside, because I knew ka-san expected me to protect him, and I wanted to make sure the man Ryou had a little crush on was a good person.
Ryou never complained about him, but Ryou never complained about anything. Finally, I decided to go in and meet the man Ryou was always so happy to see. It was after school one day, and, while he was kind of touchy-feely, you know, ruffling Ryou's hair, giving him hugs and shit, he didn't seem dangerous to me at the time.
He acted excited to meet Ryou's onii-san, and I wasn't surprised to know that Ryou talked about me a lot. Ryou was always complimenting other people and bragging about our family.
He said that he wanted to meet Amane-chan, because he was sure she would be just as sweet and cute as we were. I didn't like that he said that, because what nine year old boy likes to be called cute?
Still, I didn't see the problem with Ryou telling him where we lived and telling him to come visit us so he could introduce him to our family. The man was very gracious, and Ryou was so excited when he left that he ran home to tell ka-san all about it.
She was happy for him, but later asked me stay around Ryou and Amane-chan when he came over. She said that she didn't want Amane to be scared by a stranger, but I knew it was because she was worried that he wasn't a good person, even then.
Amane was never scared of anyone, after all, just like Ryou.
It happened the next day, when he first came over. I think the only reason nothing happened that first time was because otou-san was there. The man Ryou was crushing on was really uncomfortable around otou-san, because, like I said, otou-san is more like me.
He's not innocent and forgiving, and he had heard some rumours about someone working in that convenience store, and he wasn't convinced it wasn't this man. He left soon after that, and otou-san argued with ka-san about whether or not it was safe to have him over.
Eventually, ka-san promised to make sure she was home whenever he came over, and that I would supervise all of their 'play dates'. I think it was that conversation that haunts my otou-san, even today.
The bastard never comes home, and when he absolutely has to he won't look Ryou in the eye. It's the only way he can rationalize away the fact that he knew something was wrong, and he didn't do anything to stop it. He doesn't even have the excuse of having been too young to know better," Bakura scoffed, tightening his grip on Malik.
Taking a calming breath, he forced himself to relax. It wouldn't do to take his emotions out on Malik. His otou-san might be a bastard now, but Malik wanted the untainted version of the story –and, to be honest, he didn't really want to think about all the things he should have been thinking about then.
"It was about a week later that it finally happened. The man came over and knocked on the door, just like it was a normal visit. I opened the door for him, and he even acted normal, way too touchy-feely, and way too happy to see Ryou and imouto, but it was what I expected.
When ka-san came out though, he wasn't very happy to see her. I really should have known better when he asked if otou-san was home, but ka-san just told him that, no, he wasn't, and that the man should have called before he came over.
The man laughed about it and apologized, but said that he hoped we would let him stay. She did, but she kept finding reasons to walk in on us while we were in the play room, and I started to notice how much it was agitating the man.
When Amane-chan started to cry once because the man accidently knocked over her block tower, he pulled her right into his lap to comfort her. Ka-san came running into the room after that, and called us over to her, and asked him to leave."
"I knew something was really wrong then. I had never heard ka-san ask anyone to leave early before, and I had definitely never seen Amane not come when ka-san asked her to, so I knew it was because he wouldn't let her go.
He said that they were still having fun and pinned Amane to the ground. He was blowing raspberries on her belly and pretending it was fun, but Amane told him she didn't like it and that he was mean.
He got really angry after that, and picked her up by her hair to see if she liked that better. I knew that wasn't okay, because I'd tried it on Ryou before, so I ran over and tried to stop him, but he was obviously much stronger than me.
One hit had me on the ground and when ka-san tried to help me, he picked me up and threw me into the staircase banister behind her.
I was seeing stars and couldn't make myself get up, but I think he must have dropped Amane to throw me, because that was when she stopped crying."
Malik's fingers clenched around Bakura's waist, biting down hard on tongue. He knew that Bakura wouldn't want him to say anything or make any noise, but it was so hard. His imouto…Amane-chan…how little must she have been that a short fall could do that?
Had it knocked her out, or had it broken her neck?
Was she still aware of what the man did to her after that?
It was terrible to even imagine.
"After that, I couldn't make my legs stand up right, but I could move a little bit at a time without getting too dizzy. With my eyes open, I could see Ryou sitting outside the playroom.
His back was to me, but at the time I thought he must have been stunned or hurt, because he wasn't doing anything, he was just…watching.
My ears were ringing, so I couldn't tell you if ka-san told him to run, or if anyone else was even aware that he was still sitting there except for me, but I knew that ka-san would want me to take care of him.
I made my way over to him, and told him that we had to go. He did seem a bit stunned, and I was still having trouble hearing, but I remember him asking was why ka-san struggled so much, because that made it look like it hurt a lot more.
He also said something about Amane, but I had to focus all of my concentration on guiding us back to closet in the hallway without falling over and drawing attention to us.
He kept telling me I was bleeding and that I should go get a band aid, but I convinced him otou-san would get me one after we called him.
We got into the closet, and I found ka-san's cell phone in her jacket pocket. She always said it was only for when we were going out, so that otou-san would never have to worry.
I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing, but I called him anyways, and I told him that the man was not a good man and that he was doing bad things to ka-san and Amane-chan.
Ryou kept interrupting to say that he was sure that wasn't true, so I hung up the cell phone so that otou-san wouldn't think I was lying. I guess he believed me more than Ryou, because eventually the police came.
When I heard them, I let Ryou get out of the closet, and then I followed after him, but my head was still bleeding and the world was even more blurry than it had been when I got in the closet. A police man tried to help me, but it was Ryou I was worried about.
I knew it was him, because he was the only one who was a white blur instead of a dark blue blur. He was just standing and staring at the play room again. That was when I knew ka-san and Amane-chan were gone.
I couldn't see the blood on the toys, or their bodies, but I heard Ryou when he started screaming, and I've heard him screaming waking up from the nightmares often enough since then to know that my head wound was some sort of fucked up blessing if there is a twisted god out there."
The silence seemed oppressive in the change room after the two dark stories were finished. Malik shifted in Bakura's lap, horror squeezing his heart.
"That's so…you mean he…using the toys…?" Malik asked shifting to look up at Bakura with awestruck revulsion. Bakura's face was also twisted into a sickened expression of fury, fists clenched so tight that they shook where they held Malik's jacket.
"Ryou can't even go near daycares anymore, they set off the flashbacks. He says he keeps imagining that he's seeing the daycare workers using the toys to bash in the kids'" –
"Stop, oh Ra, stop, Bakura," Malik finally pleaded, feeling his stomach bubbling with repulsion. He wasn't sure how much more of the story he could take. After several deep breathes, he managed to calm his gurgling stomach, and morbid curiosity took over once more.
"How has Ryou managed to cope with that for so long? I think…I don't know what I would have done, to be honest, but I don't think I could have lived with that going through my head all the time," Malik admitted with a shudder. Bakura's grip tightened on him automatically.
"It's not like he deals with it well, as I'm sure you've seen. First he panics, and then he just shuts down completely. Daycares, grabbing his hair, men with children…Mariku…they all set him off. Sometimes even just an innocent toy or going past a convenience store will get to him," frustration mounted in Bakura's voice as he spoke, obviously accustomed to dealing, perhaps poorly, with Ryou's breakdowns.
"Medication?" Malik suggested weakly, knowing the answer before he even asked.
"He won't even try it," Bakura replied with disgust heavy in his voice, "he thinks he's atoning for his guilt by suffering."
"Doesn't he realize he's making you suffer, too?" Malik asked, surprised that Ryou of all people would turn a blind eye to someone else's suffering.
"Do I look like I'm suffering to you?" Bakura asked in an icily, cutting voice, and Malik shivered slightly under the look.
"Well you certainly don't sound like you're enjoying cleaning up after him," Malik shot back, not sure if it was wise or not.
Evidently, not was the answer, as Bakura's expression flashed anger, and then Malik was lying flat on his back on the change room bench. The angry Touzoku kneeled over top of him, arms locked behind Malik's head.
Malik's breath hitched in fear and a twisted sense of arousal, as he felt Bakura's forearms pressing into his upper arms. It gave him the distinct impression that moving them at all would cause a great deal of pain.
Bakura's eyes were level with his own, glaring fiercely into his face, as though to promise that he wouldn't hesitate to inflict that pain, should he feel the need to.
"Listen carefully," he said in a deadly whisper that went straight to Malik's groin. Oh Ra, why was this turning him on so badly?
He would have been more repulsed, but that cold expression had him feeling dazed, and all he could manage was, "Hard not to when you're all up in my face like this."
All his smartass response got him was Bakura's long fingers tangling painfully in the flaxen locks at the base of his skull. This time, Malik was smart enough to simply whimper slightly at the unjustness of the situation, and his body's uncalled for reaction.
"I said, listen fucking carefully," Bakura repeated with a slight snarl. "My ka-san is dead. Imouto is dead. Otou-san might as well be dead. Ryou is pathetic, he's weak, and he's needy, but I've lived with him for a long time, and he hasn't lost it yet.
He's smart and determined to prove that he's going somewhere, so don't fucking tell me that I should guilt him into medicating his brain into mush. Just because it didn't set Mariku back too far doesn't mean Ryou would be able to adjust so easily.
If he wants to have nightmares and have a fucked up relationship with someone who terrifies him, that's Goddamn fine by me. He's going to move on with his life and do whatever the fuck he wants with it, and I won't have a part in telling him what to do then or now. Got it?" Bakura demanded furiously, fingers becoming so tight that Malik had to clench his teeth in pain.
How did they go from cuddling to this?
What sort of nerve did Malik touch that would make Bakura so absolutely livid?
"I think you're scared of him moving on. You can't protect him when he goes off and does things you don't approve of," Malik spat back, now squirming desperately away from Bakura's painful grip and their bodies' uncomfortable closeness.
He knew Bakura was probably going to be beyond pissed off at Malik for accusing him of such weakness. His punishment would probably be worse than just ripping out a chunk of hair, and Malik was right, it was –it just wasn't at all what he thought it would be.
It was a little like being punched square in the mouth, but it didn't hurt nearly as much, and it was a lot more…wet. Not that Malik hadn't kissed and been kissed by females before, but, to his credit, Bakura was a much fiercer kisser than any of them had been.
In contrast to the tender kiss they had shared on Malik's bed, this one was wild, and harsh, and involved a lot of Bakura's tongue laying Malik's to shame.
It felt like Bakura was trying to bruise his mouth in punishment for suggesting he was afraid of what would happen if he once again ceased protecting his sibling, but, at the same time, a sense of smugness in the back of Malik's head informed him that Bakura's passionate kiss was like a desperate confession of his weakness.
It was exhilarating, and wrong, terribly wrong, Malik knew this, but he found himself kissing back with reckless abandon. He would later rationalize it away as protecting his own pride in the face of Bakura's 'attack', but it was truly pleasure that drove him to lock lips with the Thief King.
The kiss ended in just as jarring and abrupt a fashion as it began, only now Malik had to force down a shiver from the lack of heat hovering over top of him.
Struggling up onto his elbows, his heavily, lust lidded eyes took in the features of he Thief King standing over him, suddenly seeming to tower in comparison to Malik's prone position.
He barely made it to his feet, hoping to level the playing field now that Bakura was in Ra-knew-what state of mind, when he found his back pressed awkwardly to the wall this time.
He could barely keep his feet, as his knees were forced to buckle against the bench and his spine to the concrete bricks. He gagged slightly, feeling Bakura's forearm digging into his gold-protected windpipe and effectively preventing him from lurching forward again.
The only slight mitigating factor to the uncomfortable situation was that he could now see that Bakura was breathing heavily from their impromptu make out session, however short it had been.
"I never want to hear you bring up my family's business ever again. The way I live my life has absolutely nothing to do with you. When you're dealing with your little situation on your own tonight, just remember that I'll be out having someone else take care of mine. This afternoon meant nothing to me, the same way it shouldn't mean anything to you."
This time his cold tone and barbed words sent no thrills through Malik's body. If anything, he felt his situation wilting, as Bakura released him and disappeared out the change room door.
Nothing has any value except for what you give it.
It seemed that, for Bakura anyways, the value he had placed in their interactions was simple: they were tolerable so long as they weren't personal. As soon as they crossed that line though, Bakura would say whatever he had to say in order to push Malik far enough away to keep himself and his weaknesses safe.
Maybe he didn't have panic attacks or wake up screaming from nightmares, but he was every bit as broken as Ryou, and there wasn't a soul alive who could get close enough to pick up the pieces.
…
Its funny how many people refuse to believe the white is natural. You'd think it would occur to them to look down here if they really wanted to know. Not like I'm going to bleach my dick, after all.
Actually, there was nothing funny about that thought at all. He was just distracting himself from the inevitable wave of bitter self disgust he felt when he looked at down at the mess he'd made all over his hand and sheets.
Ryou wasn't going to be happy about having to wash his bedding again so soon after laundry day.
That was yet another fleeting thought meant to distract from the bitterness he was feeling.
Admittedly, he didn't really give a damn if Ryou was upset about having to do laundry. Lying back on the bed, he decided that he also didn't care that his sheets were soiled or that he was still stark naked.
He wanted to just sleep the nightmare of today away. Maybe when he woke up Ryou wouldn't be practically glowing with happiness even when Bakura snapped at him, and maybe he'd actually still have a personal life instead of…well, a rather public one now, he supposed.
Despite having relieved himself of the ache building up thanks to his earlier…situation…he didn't feel tired at all. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it read a disparaging 9:30pm.
What was he, five?
Going to bed before 10:00pm was for people who believed they need 'beauty sleep', or some shit like that.
He would go out and prowl the town, but…a sigh escaped his frustrated lips, as his thoughts came full circle. Goddamn kid was haunting his thoughts and making him feel these alien emotions.
With the sole exception of the accident in his childhood, Bakura had been able to successfully rationalize away any feelings of guilt, no matter what the situation…up until this afternoon.
He had meant to punish Malik by engaging in that…enlightening battle of tongues in the change room.
He had meant to send out a warning that his attachment to the boy was not so strong that Malik could take advantage of him.
He had meant to cause him sufficient discomfort about both his sexuality and over the idea that Bakura would be out hooking up with whomever he wished tonight.
Unfortunately, no matter what he had meant, all of it had backfired.
One thing he hadn't counted on was for Malik to be quite so eager about returning his passionate kiss, and it had dragged out for longer than Bakura wanted before he summoned the willpower to break it off.
For another, he hadn't expected just the knowledge of Malik becoming extremely aroused by his anger and proximity to affect himself in a similar manner. Given, he had suspected that kissing Malik would cause him some sexual stimulation, but not to such a degree.
The real problem in all of his short comings today, though, was that he simply misjudged his own strength.
He thought he wouldn't be so aroused by the other boy coming on to him.
He thought he would be able to manipulate Malik with a heart of stone rather than seeking pleasure in the other boy's willing kiss.
He thought he would have enough anger inside him over Malik's blatant disregard for the privacy of his family to ignore his romantic feelings for one night and release some of his sexual tension elsewhere.
He truly tricked himself into believing he would find solace and release in a stranger's arms tonight.
But he had underestimated himself and his guilt.
The thought of another man or woman touching him was repulsive.
In order to become aroused enough to do anything he'd have to spend the whole time imagining everything he was doing as being with Malik, not a stranger, and that rather defeated the purpose.
All in all, the person he had managed to prove something to was himself, and it was a sad, sad reality that he found himself waking up to.
A/N: So…that kind of killed me to write…gah, angst is brutal on my fluffy inner authoress. I hope you all liked it though, and that it answered any questions! Man, I set out to write one thing…and it completely changes and morphs as I write it! Seriously, fun fact, the scene with Mariku and Ryou was supposed to take place in the cafeteria, and Bakura was supposed to explain this all really shortly and bluntly to Malik with barely any details after Malik insisted on knowing. They also weren't supposed to have a falling out afterwards or kiss at all. Also, I had hardly planned any of the Ishtar's past other than the fact that Malik was beaten and raped by his otou-san; I started reading up on Egyptian mythology and *POOF* this…THING, appeared! My writing never obeys me, but…hopefully it was okay? Please review, I need to know what people are thinking more than ever now!
