Warnings: Bad language, yaoi

Chapter Five: Contemplated.

Their eyes met, and Yami knew instantly.

"Tomb Robber!"

"Yes, my King?" But he wasn't paying any attention to the reply, instead focusing on Malik's tongue, which was weaving sensuously around his mouth like a tiny snake.

At last the Egyptian stopped for air, breathing coming out in delighted gasps.

"I liked that," Bakura murmured from beneath him.

"I bet you did, you dirty little thing." Malik destroyed any offence Bakura might have felt at this by shoving him down further into the bed and following it up with another passionate kiss.

"Anyway, don't you thing you should let the real Ryou out? The Pharaoh looks as if he's on the verge of having a fit."

"Oooh, let me see." Bakura tried to wriggle free but the Egyptian held him down.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"Nowhere," he said obediently.

"Yeah, you'd better not be."

Despite the way Bakura was laughing, it was obvious Malik was the one in charge.

"Just let him out."

"I am, I am."

And a moment later Ryou appeared, looking angrier than Yami had ever seen him before. The very air around him seemed to vibrate with rage.

"F-Fuck you!" he choked out.

Malik only laughed.

"Fuck me," Bakura whispered.

"With pleasure," Malik murmured back.

Ryou stalked over to Yami and Yugi without saying anything. His scarred face was twisted into an expression of the utmost fury.

Yami, for once, had nothing to say. But Yugi protested, "How…how could you do that? It was really mean!"

Bakura snorted with amusement at the teenager's choice of words. "Aw, the Pharaoh's Pet doesn't like us, Malik. Aren't you so offended?"

"Ra, yes. I'm so likeable." Malik sat comfortably on top of the Ring-spirit, and flicked an eyebrow at Yami. "Pharaoh, you and your pet are so gullible even I can hardly believe it. How the hell did you manage to fall for the idea of Ryou and I being together?"

The Ring-holder curled his fingers into fists. Yami just stared at Malik in disgust. "You really are a bastard." He added slowly, "…How did you get Ryou to react like that? I know the Tomb Robber wasn't in control until later."

An indulgent laugh. "Oh, Ryou's had a crush on me for ages. Any fool could see it. He's kind of cute, sure, in an obvious sort of way. But I prefer someone who isn't so obvious with their emotions. Its more interesting." He reached out to kiss Bakura, and the spirit made as if to push him away.

"Who do you think you're trying to kiss?"

"So sorry," Malik murmured, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I didn't mean to be so presumptive. May I?"

"I'll think about it."

The Egyptian stifled a giggle as Bakura slipped a hand up his shirt. "Mmm." He glanced over his shoulder. "Still here?"

Ryou flushed in anger.

"'Kura, I think your punch-bag wants to talk to you." He released the Ring-spirit, climbing carefully off him.

"I'm not his punch-bag," Ryou snapped.

Scornful, disbelieving laughter. "Sure you're not."

Bakura pushed him away, looking annoyed. "Yadonushi, what the hell do you want now?"

"…Why did you do it?" his light asked softly. "Why did you do this to me?" He reached up and touched his ruined face.

The spirit yawned. "Oh, so you want a reason now, do you? You know why. I told you."

"Not that crap. The real reason."

A new look came into his yami's eyes. "You know, don't you?"

"Yes. But I want to hear you say it."

For a moment Bakura was silent, as if thinking how to put it. "Fine. I did it because of him." He indicated Malik.

Yami stared. "Was it his idea?"

"No, no." Bakura dismissed this with an impatient wave of his hand. "It was because…because you kept looking at him!" His voice rose. "He was mine and you kept looking at him in that stupid way and-and blushing when he came in, and I didn't like it because he belonged to me!" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "So I did it. I cut your face because I knew then you'd be all upset and never want to go out or see anyone again. And you won't! I won't let you steal him from me!"

"…You liked him," Yami translated quietly. "And you didn't like Ryou liking him as well."

"He was so damn obvious!" Bakura spat out, his voice rising again seemingly uncontrollably. "Every time Malik came round he would be blushing at the sight of him. And it was annoying! I wanted him!"

Malik cuddled him soothingly. "Hey, calm down. I'm all yours."

Bakura smiled at him, his body giving way in the Egyptian's arms.

Ryou wasn't saying anything.

Picking up on his silence, Malik drawled, "It could be a lot worse. At least you don't have the Pharaoh's memories carved into your back."

Yami stared. "What?"

"Forget it." The Egyptian's tone changed. "Lower."

Bakura smiled again and obeyed.

Seeing that they weren't intending to move from the room for a while, Yami whispered quietly to his other half, "I think we should go."

"Best idea you've had so far," Bakura said with a nasty laugh.

Ignoring him, Yugi queried, "Coming, Ryou?"

"Where are you going?"

"Back to our house. It's nearly half past eleven, you know. You're welcome to stay for the weekend."

"Sounds better than staying here with these two." Ryou followed them out of the room, still inwardly boiling at his yami and Malik. Just before closing the door, he turned and looked at his other half, who was being smothered within the duvet. He thought about saying something, then shrugged and shut the door very quietly, not wanting to give the two Egyptians the satisfaction of hearing him slam it.

Only when he was downstairs did he reveal his emotions. "Bastards."

"Yes." Yami looked up at the ceiling and his mouth twisted into a slight sneer.

"Aibou? Shall we go?"

His yami sighed and nodded.

……….

The old grandfather clock in the hall had just sounded three o'clock in the morning, and the weary donging, punctuated with much less rhythmic creaks, reverberated through the hallway to reach the ears of the only person in the house who was still awake.

The spirit of the Millennium Puzzle was playing on Yugi's GameCube™, fingers moving almost caressingly over the controller. The lurid, artificial noises had been muted, out of respect for the two lights sleeping upstairs. It was hard to believe this was the second time they had gone to bed tonight, harder yet to accept that less than twenty-four hours had gone by since he and Yugi had knocked on Ryou's door. But despite all the day's happenings Yami felt no craving for sleep. This wasn't particularly unusual, as spirits tended to favour long bursts of sleep, ranging from between a few days to two weeks, and then staying awake again for about the same amount of time.

He often spent the nights playing on the GameCube, and as he had a tendency for winning he didn't really mind. He couldn't see the controller in his hands, but his fingers knew it so intimately they moved automatically to the right positions. The reason he couldn't see anything was because the only light in the room came from the T.V, as he could never be bothered to switch on all the lights.

Leaning back and uncrossing his legs, he suddenly jumped and dropped the controller as a grotesque face loomed out of the darkness.

"I'm sorry if I startled you."

Relief surged through him, bringing with it a sense of embarrassment at his foolishness. It was only Ryou, his pale face bleached even whiter by the artificial glow of the television screen. His scars were very prominent in the harsh, hard light, and Yami found it hard not to look at them and instead fix his gaze on his eyes as he answered.

"Oh, it's fine. I just didn't expect anyone to come in. Can't sleep?"

A small shake of the head. "No. I…I keep thinking about…" He took a slightly shaky breath. "…Do you think I should go to school on Monday?"

"I…well, it's your choice."

Ryou raised an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to acknowledge the unhelpfulness of the remark. "What do you think?"

"Do you want to?" the spirit countered.

Ryou's eyes were fixed on the ground. "…I don't know."

Yami sighed and moved onto the sofa, motioning for Ryou to sit next to him. The teenager did so uncomfortably, not looking at him.

"…It's just that everyone would stare. I know they would." He was starting to shake. "I-I don't like people looking at me. And talking behind their hands, and-"

"Ryou, they aren't all bad," Yami said unconvincingly. "It-"

The teenager gave a bitter laugh. "Sure. So you're saying I can just walk into school on Monday and everyone will just ignore me as usual? When I look like such a freak?" He stared at Yami, suddenly, his dark eyes raw holes boring into him, and the spirit shifted slightly and looked away.

"See? Even you can hardly stand the sight of me."

"No," Yami protested quietly, a note of desperation creeping into his voice, "that isn't true. You think your scars make you look ugly but they don't."

Another bitter laugh. "Sure."

"Ryou, someone like you couldn't be remotely ugly if they tried."

Their eyes met again, and this time neither looked away. "That makes it worse," Ryou said sourly. He clenched his fists. "I just hate it that I can never go outside again, never go to school, never see anyone face to face again."

"You could."

"No, I can't. And even if I could, I wouldn't want to. I don't want anyone to see me like this." His body shook. "I don't care if everyone thinks I've run away or died or something, because at least then they'll remember me how I used to be."

"So you're just going to give up your life?" Yami said in disbelief. "Ryou, that's exactly what the Tomb Robber wants you to do. Are you going to give him the satisfaction of abandoning everything?"

"I…I can't exactly do anything else." Ryou sounded almost defensive. "It's not like it isn't a big deal. And anyway I can't just act like nothing has happened. I can't go outside again and try to lead a normal life. Because I know I could never step outside without thinking how much everyone is staring at me, even if they aren't."

"So you admit you might want to go outside, if it weren't for the fact that everyone might be staring at you?"

"…I don't know. Maybe."

It wasn't just Ryou's looks that the Tomb Robber had destroyed, Yami thought in a mixture of anger and resignation. It was his confidence as well. Not that he'd ever been the most self-assured or confident person in the world in the first place. They'd have to find some way to rebuild his confidence, to get him used to other people looking at him again. But how?

"…Would you like to help out Yugi in the Turtle Game Shop tomorrow?" he asked softly. "We don't get many customers on Sunday, and it's only open until twelve anyway."

"No," Ryou said definitely.

"No one looks at you in there," the Puzzle-spirit coaxed. "They're just interested in buying things. And they put up with Yugi's hair, so it isn't like people aren't used to the unusual."

There was a pause, during which Ryou seemed to be considering the idea, although not in much seriousness.

"…His grandfather might mind," he ventured half-heartedly. It was as if he was trying to find something wrong with the idea.

"No he won't. Jounouchi and Honda help out all the time. But they're busy tomorrow anyway."

"…I couldn't do it," Ryou whispered. "I just couldn't…"

"Yes you could," Yami said calmly. "You're braver than you think you are. And I know you can do it."

The Ring-holder opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally he said in a mumble, "Fine, I'll come."

Yami smiled.

…………

Tangled up in a flurry of sheets, Malik attempted carefully to extract himself without disturbing the spirit of the Millennium Ring lying beside him. From the clock perched on the bedside table he saw it was nearly half-past ten. He guessed he'd had maybe six hours sleep, but had never felt less tired in his life.

Looking down fondly at Bakura, curled up on the bed like a child and chewing a corner of the pillow, he brushed the stray strands of stark-white hair out of the pale, pointed face, feeling the softness between his fingers. The spirit was naked beneath the sheets, as Malik himself was, and for a moment the Egyptian felt the urge to wake him up, to tug on that creamy hair until he stirred, and hold him in his arms until he had satisfied himself he would never lose him.

But instead he got slowly up from the bed and pulled on his clothes, feeling the material rough and harsh against his skin after the smooth hands of Bakura had run over them. Feeling suddenly out-of-place, like a straight man in a lesbian club, he sat slightly self-consciously on the edge of the mattress, thoughts now becoming more restless and uneasy.

…Flashback…

The doorbell rang, loudly, jaunty and jangling. Malik could hear someone running downstairs to get it, and the calmer, more deliberate tread of someone else following more slowly. The door opened, and he was face-to-face with the Ring-spirit's lighter half.

"K-Konnichiwa M-Malik-sama," the teenager stammered. He talked to Malik's feet, cringing slightly before him.

"Hi. Is the other you around?"

"Yes. H-He's just coming." Ryou's eyes darted up, daringly, to meet his own, and as soon as their gazes met the blood rushed to his face and he looked back down at the floor.

A moment later Malik heard again the familiar cat-like footsteps as the Ring-spirit entered the room. "Malik. Would you like anything to drink?" Like his footsteps the words came out slowly and deliberately, with a slight pause in between. His tone was candid, business-like, but there was something else there too, shoved deep down.

"A beer would be fine."

Bakura motioned to Ryou. "You heard him, yadonushi. Beer. In fridge. Now."

A meek nod, the host almost tripping over himself as he rushed to the fridge. Not that he had the luxury of taking his time. If he took too long to obey, his yami would give him a kick or two to help him along. The drink was handed over, and Malik saw his hand was shaking.

"Thanks." It was nothing more than customary, the words and tone indifferent, but Ryou blushed even harder.

Malik and Bakura headed into the lounge, settling themselves comfortably in armchairs.

"Out." The spirit didn't bother looking at his host, who was hovering nervously in the doorway. Ryou immediately made himself scarce, but Malik thought he detected a faint trace of disappointment in his face. It suddenly disturbed him to realise that he thought of the teenager of nothing more than a servant, a person with no more importance in life than to sustain Bakura and do what he was told.

"So, to business." Bakura leaned forward just a little. Malik met his eyes, directly and frankly as always, and saw a slight tinge of colour rise in the pale cheeks.

He likes me, Malik thought suddenly, and was surprised to find how much the thought amused him. No surprise, though: he had suspected for a while now. The Ring-spirit was good at concealing his emotions, like Malik himself was, but Malik had the advantage of darker skin. He was glad he wasn't as pale as Bakura – self-control over your facial expressions was always a good thing, but it didn't extend to involuntary things like blushing.

As well as amusement, which was how he tended to view all things love-based, he was surprised to find how much the thought excited him. He'd always known he was good looking; had grown used to people looking at him in that way, but never before had he felt the same way back. Mostly because he viewed so many people as his underlings. But the spirit of the Millennium Ring was one of the few people he would admit to considering his equal (although never to his face, of course.)

He studied the spirit for a moment. Ryou had those obvious cute good looks that all the girls went for, but his yami was different in a way that Malik found far more interesting. It was Ryou's face to a certain extent, of course, but sharper, bolder, and yet smoother.

He suddenly became aware of the silence hovering between them, and the way he had been openly staring at Bakura. Shit, shit, shit.

The spirit was aware of it; Malik watched in fascination as he blushed harder and stared down on the floor in a manner eerily reminiscent of his lighter half. Then their eyes met, and for a moment Malik saw things that he'd never thought he would see in Bakura's eyes: uncertainty, embarrassment, a touching self-consciousness. They both laughed, awkwardly, and from then on the conversation had been more normal, but in a way which made it clear neither had forgotten what had just passed between them, even if they made no reference to it.

…End flashback…

Malik shifted uneasily on the bed, unconsciously biting his lip. He had what he wanted, or had thought he wanted, so why was something nagging uncomfortably at his consciousness, like a child that has just spotted that its parent has made a stupid mistake? Something was missing, and yet it couldn't possibly be. He had Bakura. The spirit was just as he'd imagined – better, in fact, so why was he suddenly feeling so empty, so discontented? Was he this spoilt that he couldn't even accept that he had everything?

It wasn't that they'd had to trample over other people to get there, he was sure. Not that he was denying that this had happened. It was just that he was used to shoving other people aside to get what he wanted - and he usually did, with no guilt pangs. So why feel them this time? If that was even what it was - guilt? Or something else? Could it be because what they'd done this time was so much more final, so much more irreversible than before? After all, what Bakura had done to Ryou…Malik was beginning to wonder if it had really been necessary. Although Ra knows he'd had just as big a part in emotionally and pathologically destroying Ryou as Bakura had:

Malik? Its Bakura.

…Bakura? …Do you have any idea what the time is?

I'm perfectly aware of how late it is. Listen to me; I don't have much time. The Pharaoh's Pet is sleeping in here and I can't risk waking him up. I need you to come over.

What? Now?

Yes, now. Let yourself in. The Pharaoh will be downstairs, but don't let him distract you. Make him get out of the way, but try not to hurt him or get involved in a duel or anything. Go upstairs, and make sure he follows you. He probably won't let you out of his sight anyway. My yadonushi will be there, and the Pharaoh's Pet. And this is what I want you to do…

He'd arrived there within ten minutes – the bus was just outside the museum as he went out. The look on the Pharaoh's face had been so hilarious Malik could have laughed out loud. But he certainly hadn't felt like laughing when he went upstairs.

Bakura hadn't said much about what state his host would be in, apart from a few vague details. Malik had managed to fool the Pharaoh easily enough when he said how he and Ryou were together, but he hadn't needed to feign the look of horror on his face when he saw what had happened to Ryou. For a moment he had even felt strangely angry at Bakura. Sure, like the spirit had said, Ryou was his property. But still, to do that to him…it was practically sadistic, even by Malik's doubtful moral standards. And he had even felt a flicker of pity. Ryou was only a kid, for Ra's sake. (He was actually three months older than Malik, but that wasn't the point.) And this was his whole life ruined already. Still, any remorse had vanished when he kissed Bakura. It was like dying and then being reborn and then dying again; the two of them in a world where nothing mattered except him and Bakura and the fact that he was finally doing what had felt so natural from the moment when he had first seen the spirit blush.

The night had been amazing, easily the best in his life. It had been his first time, and if Bakura hadn't admitted it was his as well Malik would never have believed it.

He leant over the spirit, feeling his sleepy breathing and the slight movement in the sheets where his chest rose and fell as he inhaled. He's mine. I'm his. Nothing else matters. For a moment he could even believe it.

He reached out and tugged insistently at the ivory hair; the spirit moaned and opened his eyes. They were big and brown and sleepy, and so wide that Malik felt as if he could fall into them for ever and ever.

"What is it?"

"…Nothing. I…just want to say that I love you. No matter what happens."

It could almost have been a warning.

A tired but indulgent smile at the cliché that had been necessary to get the message across. "Love you too." He pushed the blankets impatiently away, immediately starting to shiver; Malik wrapped his arms around him, feeling the coolness of the spirit body which had briefly been so warm and was already beginning to grow cold in his arms. They clung to each other for a moment, Malik with a sudden desperateness but he didn't know why.

"Mine." It seemed so important to say that, to reassert it, to be reassured of the fact.

"Duh." The mocking, sardonic look which he so loved and hated was back in Bakura's eyes. "You're not getting all soppy on me, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Good. I hate soppiness."

…………..

A/N: I was hoping this would be the last chapter, as I know more-or-less how the ending will go, but it seems like it's too long to type all in one go. The next chapter should be up soon i.e. whenever I can be bothered to type it. Please review! I really like the way this story has turned out, compared to some of my other fics – I'm not getting bored as I get nearer the end. In fact, I'm getting more excited. Can't wait to do some more of this story. Unfortunately, I do have something vaguely resembling a life, so I can't dedicate every waking moment to writing. Oh well. Review anyway. If I get enough I might be sufficiently motivated to finish this story in coming next week.