Oh yeah...
(beams) Since you guys are such great reveiwers, I decided to update quicker. Some Bakura x Malik lime here, and there's going to be a lemon scene with Marik and Ryou in the next chapter. However, I do wish to know how much lemon you guys want...i really don't want to offend you guys, because I'm very comfortable writing anywhere from some basic lemon to explicit lemon. So...(cocks head innocently) What do you guys want?
(Beams) please read and review!! And remember, tell me how much lemon you guys want in your next chapter!
Chapter Eight
The sun was barely rising as Marik stood up on the arena deck. They were nearing towards their destination, Alcatraz Tower, but they had landed somewhere to fix up the engines. What engines in particular, Marik had no idea about, so while everyone else spent three days outside in the merry weather, he confined himself to his room, occupied by his own thoughts.
Now, the golden star had begun to rise, casting a glorious gold horizon against the hue of the sea. The fiery mass of yellow, orange and red grew from the golden horizon, its shining rays bathing the dark blue hue of the ocean to a crystal aquamarine, blessing each landmark with golden drops in its wake. It stained patches of pink and yellow against the black sky, warming, comfortingly.
Sadly, it could not reach Marik's heart.
The Darkness hardly paid any heed to the golden rays, and instead gazed off into what was left of the darkness of the night. Everything reminded him of Ryou, from the cotton-white clouds to the dark brown earth on the nearby land. The scent of vanilla in the air reminded him of Ryou's porcelain skin, and the golden rays reminded him of Ryou's tender smile.
Why had he left?
Oh yes...stupid Light that Ryou was, always asking Marik of his reasons.
Yet, Marik had questions of his own to ask Ryou, very befuddling questions, and he never asked them. Such an example would be...
...why had he said, "I love you"?
Marik gritted his teeth. Love. It was for weaklings, pathetic little weaklings that could not control themselves. Though Marik had heard the loving rants from his own lighter half about how great Bakura was, Marik never found the white-haired Darkness that smart. Though Marik and Bakura were both darknesses, both wanted to destroy mankind, both had pathetic weak Lights...
...wait. Ryou wasn't weak. What was Marik thinking about? Malik was weak. Well, perhaps not weak, but pathetic, yes. Malik's tatics had always seemed to be somewhat like Bakura's; hiding in the dark, manipulating minds. The idiot pharoah hardly even knew Bakura was alive until Malik had to tell him straight in the face. But Ryou wasn't weak.
Ryou was good. Love was good. Marik was bad.
Marik was the evil. Entirely the Evil. He was created solely from Malik's vengeance, hatred, anger. Of course he would be evil. Bakura...wasn't evil. He was part of a sadistic night of darkness. But not evil. Bakura could not feel vengeance, hatred, anger. He could feel sadistic glee, insane madness, cold sarcasm, but not anger. In fact, Marik wasn't even sure why Bakura wanted to dominate the world and claim all the Millennium Items. Marik did it because he hated, loathed, despised the Pharaoh. What the heck was Bakura's reason?
But Marik was only fooling himself by thinking about other things. His mind kept on drifting back to Ryou. He almost felt guilty that he had left the Light on his own, and so soon after Ryou's incident upon the arena, when he almost fell off the blimp. But he knew he couldn't stay. Ryou's confession was too much for him, and he didn't know how to react to it.
And Marik knew...that if he had stayed...he would've done something utterly weak and unacceptable. Disgraceful.
...he would've said, "I love you" back.
How did Ryou do this to him? Marik had only thought that the Light intrigued him because of the lusty feeling he kept on having, the curiosity that kept on drifiting his mind. He had to chant "lust lust lust" in his mind to avoid thinking that he was actually going soft...how would Bakura react, if Ryou had said, "I love you" to him?
Bakura would've laughed. Slapped him in the face if he was feeling more angsty than usual. Scorned him, mocked him, left him alone to fend for himself.
But Marik couldn't do that.
Whenever something bothered MARIK, he killed it. Either killed it, banished it, or tormented it. But he couldn't do any of them to Ryou. He couldn't bear to bring Ryou more pain than he had already suffered. He would hate to be the cause of it.
Thinking of Bakura simply made Marik far more angrier. His eye twitched. Stupid idiotic Japanese-adopting white haired ALBINO! Clenching his fists, Marik turned around and promptly thrusted his knuckles into the wall. Hmn, that helped. Especially when he visioned Bakura standing there. How dare Bakura hurt Ryou in anyway? Especially physically? How DARE he?!
Glancing back, Marik stared at the door which led to the elevators. What was Ryou doing now? Listening to music, writing poems, reading a book? Thinking more philosphical thoughts?
Oh how Marik yearned to go back, to comfort Ryou in his arms, to say at least he cared. But, dammit, words like that didn't exist in Marik's vocabulary. How the hell did someone so fragile, so innocent, so pure, manage to slip through all his mental defenses?
Lust lust lust lust lust lust lust...
But deep down, Marik knew that lust was just a symptom that followed along what he was really feeling inside. But it was a weird feeling. Marik's heart had always been an icy void, and empty hollow shell, a piece of the darkness. But now...whenever Ryou smiled, whenever Ryou said something, a flicker of light would aflame itself in his darkening heart, and warm it. Warming a small heart, yes, but a heart none-of-the-less.
Marik could not live without seeing Ryou. He couldn't. Every image in his mind made him cock his head and daydream, if he did not see the real thing. It was addictive.
Sighing, he turned around, and stared at the metal door.
He may as well go back. See Ryou again.
Shrugging, Marik slipped through the elevator, and waited for it to stop at Ryou's door.
Now that he was at Ryou's door, his heart had stopped. Dammit, what was it going to take?! It was just a Light. A Light. Nothing more! He clenched his fists, staring at themetal barrieraccusingly. No doubt, if Ryou was true to his confession, that he would be on the bed, crying his eyes out. Marik spat. Crying was for weaklings.
But Ryou was NOT a weakling!
Somehow, Marik had gathered perhaps that was why he liked Ryou so much. Wait. Not liked. That was why he was..."interested" in Ryou. Perhaps it was because, since Marik had always been dominant, seeing Ryou, feeling Ryou in his arms always made him..special. As though he finally existed for something more. His own Light had always been arguementive, rebellious. Ryou wasn't. He was sweet, kind and gentle...everything Marik hated, and everything Marik loved.
But he would NOT lose himself this time. If Ryou ran to him, hugged him, cried into his chest, if he did anything that would make Marik's heart wrench, sink, or explode, he would simply shrug Ryou off and stare out the window. He didn't care if Ryou loved him. That was Ryou's fault. No one in their right minds would love Marik.
Bracing himself (and feeling slightly stupid...and guilty, at the same time) he punched in the code. He had locked Ryou's door, in case the Light ran off to the Pharoah...or worse, if Ryou had ran to him. He didn't want Ryou to ask him what was wrong, how he was feeling...he didn't want Ryou to be concerned for him at all. It would just make him more confused, and more angrier. And the angrier he got...
...well, he didn't want to think about that.
The door slid open, and he was about to walk in, expecting to find Ryou on the bed..
...but what he did NOT expect, was a snowy-haired figure to fall at his feet.
Blinking, Marik kneeled down, cocking an eyebrow quizzically. Well, this was odd...familiar, since most of his Ghouls always bowed at his feet, but...odd. And heartbreaking, when it was coming from Ryou.
Ryou did not do anything to make Marik's heart wrench, sink, or explode. If anything, it made it freeze. Ryou was not moving.
Panicking slightly despite his attempts to stay cool, Marik quickly turned the young boy over, and his eyes widened at the sight. Ryou's face was ashen and far paler than when Marik had seen him last, no longer porcelain and smooth, but a sickly white. Hands shaking, Marik quickly brought the fallen boy into his arms, and hastily began looking for signs of life. How could he have left Ryou for three days?!
Marik's heart only thumped loudly in his ears as he quickly checked for Ryou's pulse. When he couldn't find one, he quickly ran his fingers over Ryou's face, hoping to stimulate circulation. As his fingers brushed upon Ryou's slightly open lips, he noticed that they were no longer silky and soft, but cracked and dry, as though he had not drank anything in days.
But at least, Ryou was breathing. The warm air that escaped his lips were small and feeble, almost raggedly, but at least he was still breathing.
Quickly, Marik picked up the unconcious form, his heart swelling slightly with relief. As he carried Ryou towards the bed, Marik marvelled at how much lighter Ryou was than usual; tightening his grip, Marik bit his lip. Ryou's entire body felt light and frail, delicate and breakable. Marik feared that if he held on too tight, Ryou would shatter into a million pieces. A million cold pieces, for that matter, for Ryou's skin was not only freezing but clammy. What had happened? He had only gone for three days!
He gently slipped Ryou onto the bed, frowning with worry upon his frail, lithe form. What had happened? Sighing, he surrendered and unhooked the Rod from behind his back; and entered Ryou's mind. There was no other way.
Carefully, he avoided the habit route of controlling the victim, and this time concentrated hard, and picked upon Ryou's memory. He sat back, allowing the latest memory scene to portray in front of his closed eyes.
"Marik, please come back!" Ryou sobbed, pounding his fists against the door."Please don't go, please come back! Marik! Please come back...!"
Ryou had not eaten, slept, not drank for the entire three days. Marik could see that Ryou's body was constantly shaking, his cheeks frequently wet with tears.
"Please Marik, come back...!" Ryou cried, as he slid down the door. "Please...please come back Marik...don't leave me alone. Please come back."
Blinking, the golden flash of the Millennium Rod died down, and Marik opened his eyes fully. No wonder Ryou looked so weak. He hadn't eaten, slept or drank since Marik left. And he couldn't omit the previous stress, the constant fear that Ryou had to live with everyday...no wonder. No wonder Ryou looked so sick. Marik's departure had been the last straw that he could carry.
Poor Ryou. A wave of guilt swept through Marik's insides, and his heart sank with sorrow. Poor Ryou...body dehydrated, energy gone, stress and worry causing wasting more energy, headaches bombarding his mild temples...
"Oh, Ryou..."
Sighing, Marik sat on the bed, drawing Ryou into his arms again, stroaking his cheeks. He rested Ryou's limp head upon his shoulder, so that Ryou's cold nose was nestling against his neck, and embraced him tightly.
"I promise, Ryou," he whispered softly, "I won't leave again."
Marik wasn't exactly sure how long he had stayed there, sitting on the bed, holding Ryou in his arms. It seemed as though an eternity, and at some point, Marik had decided to get a cup of water for when Ryou awoke. Every once in awhile, he would kiss Ryou's face, hoping with his all his heart that Ryou could feel it, and would respond to it. It marvelled Marik how Ryou could still wish for him to be back, when all Marik did was frighten him, snapped at him, and touched him.
It had to be love.
Finally, Ryou stirred slightly, his nose nuzzling against Marik's throat. Careful not to make any sudden moves, Marik wrapped his arms around Ryou tighter, and settled more comfortably on the bed. His eyes widened slightly as he felt Ryou's fingers trail up his chest subconciously, slowly, as though terribly exhausted, before it came to rest on the material of his cloak. He heard Ryou give a faint groan, and felt the flutter of his eyelashes against his skin as Ryou cracked his eyes open. Marik could hear the effort in the short gasp that followed.
"M-M--Marik...?"
"Shh," hushed Marik quietly, trying his best to maintain his usual cold demeanor. "Don't try to talk if it hurts."
"You..." Another deep, raspy breath. "You came back."
"Yes, I know." He gently brought Ryou away from him, so that he could look into Ryou's face clearly. It surprised him to see the Light...
...smiling.
It was a weak smile, a feeble smile, but a smile all the same. A genuine happy smile, as though Ryou would actually prance around in joy had not his body was dehydrated.
"You..." Ryou voice was barely above a whisper, as his dull eyes finally glittered with their previous joy, "You...you came back."
"I thought that had already been established," said Marik bluntly as he reached for the cup of water. Ryou's breathing seemed to be very laboured, so Marik decided to rest the boy's spine against his arm. Ryou closed his eyes and took another breath, his fingers clutching tightly against Marik's cloak. The Darkness raised up his arm to brace Ryou's head, and gently pressed the cup against Ryou's lips.
"Drink," Marik said bluntly. Ryou blinked, and slowly parted his mouth, allowing the water to travel down his throat. At times, Marik had to pull the glass away to allow Ryou some time to regain his breath. Mairk wasn't exactly sure why Ryou's lungs seemed so weak, but then again, Marik didn't know how long Ryou had been out. Slowly, Ryou finished the glass of water, and after his last swallow, thankfully closing his eyes, and buried his face in Marik's chest.
"Thank you," he heard Ryou whisper sofly. Marik was sure, if Ryou had the strength, the boy would've been embracing him tightly around the waist.
"It's nothing," Marik muttered, placing the cup onto the nearby table. He was about to put Ryou flat on the bed when he noticed that both Ryou's hands were clutching at his robe, as though a feeble attempt to cling on. Marik couldn't bring himself to bring Ryou away from his grip. Sighing, Marik sat back, and tried his best to comfort the boy in his arms.
"Please don't go," whispered Ryou. Marik's heart shot up in his throat with guilt and sorrow, and he began rubbing Ryou's back comfortingly.
"I won't, Ryou," Marik said softly. "I won't."
Ryou weary lifted his head, his eyes wide with apprehension and fear.
"You...you promise?"
Allowing himself a small smile, Marik nodded, and kissed Ryou's forehead. "I promise."
Suddenly, Ryou pulled down on Marik's robe, causing the Egyptian to bow his head slightly downwards. He was about to remark something scathing when Ryou's lips met his own, and, after he had regained his composure, Marik, smirking, began to ease open Ryou's mouth with his own, his tongue massaging the depths of Ryou's mouth. This was the first time that Ryou had made the first move, and Marik was actually somewhat shocked, though he didn't show it. He was too distracted with the soft moaning sounds Ryou was making, anyways.
After they broke away, Marik raised an eyebrow curiously. "What was that for?"
Ryou blushed, an adorable, pink tinge that adorned his porcelain face. "I just...I just had to remember it..."
Smirking, Marik leaned in, and Ryou smiled. This time their kiss was far more simple, but a lot more promising.
"Marik..."
Marik leaned back, stroaking Ryou's cheeks absently. "What?"
"I...I really missed you," said Ryou softly. "Are you...you're not going to leave again...are you?"
Smiling, Marik shook his head. How could he say no to those eyes? "No, Ryou...I won't leave. I promise."
Ryou smiled, though his face still looked exhausted. Circling his arms tighter around the boy, Marik rested Ryou's head on his shoulder, and kissed his cheek lightly.
"You need sleep," Marik said firmly. Ryou held on tighter, his knuckles turning whiter than his sickly skin was already.
"You won't leave, right?" whispered Ryou. "Even when I'm asleep?"
Marik was somewhat puzzled by this question, but all the same, he nodded. "I won't leave. But you'd better get some sleep, Ryou."
Weakly, Ryou nodded, and Marik gently slipped him into bed. He sat on the side, and as he watched the gentle Light surrender to slumber, he couldn't help but smile when Ryou's hand rested on his own.
At long last, Ryou was peaceful.
The days passed, with Ryou sleeping for most of the day. Marik hardly ever left his side, unless it was to attend some hygiene business. For some odd reason, Ryou seemed to possess a sixth sense of knowing where Marik was even when he was asleep. This proved itself many times during the night when Marik wandered restlessly to the adjacent bathroom.
Marik had went to the bathroom to take a shower, thinking that Ryou was well asleep. It was the first time he had left Ryou's side, at least, without telling him where he was going, and by the time he had refreshened himself, towelled his hair and redressed, there were soft whimpering noises from the bed.Standing by the doorway, the Darkness had blinked at Ryou's shaking form, and frowned a bit. In truth, he felt guilty that he hadn't immediately admitted that he was standing right in the doorway, but he was curious as to why Ryou was so nervous. The Light was fidgeting, whimpering under his breath, and was wide awake, his brown eyes scanning the room for any sign of Marik. By that time, Marik had slipped behind Ryou's shaking form, and gently leaned against Ryou's shoulders. Ryou released the smallest of gasps before he turned around, and immediately, his face, previously anxious, melted into a relieved smile.
Another time, when Marik had finally decided that Ryou was progressing from his weak health, had left Ryou for the night to make sure Rishid had not been moved from his place in the hospital wing. When Marik came back, the sun had dawned, and Ryou was sitting up in bed, his figure shaking like mad.
"What's wrong?" asked Marik lowly, wondering if there was some sort of predator in the room. Ryou looked at him, and in the darkness, Marik was quite aware of the relief that spread across Ryou's face.
"Nothing," the Light said softly, clutching at his sheets. As the sun dawned fully, Marik noticed that Ryou's face was white again, and his breathing was irregular. He was about to inquire when Ryou tentatively reached out for his hand and grasped it hard.
"You promised not to leave," he said sadly.
"Sorry," said Marik, blinking as he sat down next to the Light. "I had...other business to attend to."
"Please don't do that again," Ryou pleaded. Marik gave him a quizzical look before nodding.
"I'm sorry," he said delicately. Ryou took a relieved breath and smiled.
"That's good," Ryou had said. "Sometimes the dark isn't a nice place to be alone."
Finally, on the day when Ryou felt and looked as healthy as he was before, he and Marik had danced in the privacy of their room. Marik's senses excited themselves as he felt, kissed and carressed Ryou's every graceful move, every gliding motion. He couldn't help himself from licking Ryou's neck when he held the Light's spine against his chest, his hands slowly winding their way downwards. Ryou had, amazingly, laughed and giggled as he reached over and buried his fingers in Marik's hair, prancing down towards the base of the Egyptian's neck. The thing Marik loved best, of course, was when Ryou whined. He was most delectable when he whined.
"Maarrriiik..." he wailed, when Marik pulled rather a daring seductive move by reaching down south. Smirking, Marik licked the back of Ryou's throat, then placed hot, wet kisses up to his ear.
"Oops," he said teasingly, winding his hands upwards and beneath Ryou's shirt. "Would you have perferred if it was mine?"
"Marik!" exclaimed Ryou, almost accusingly. Snickering, Marik swirled Ryou around, so that they were face to face. He cupped Ryou's chin in his hand, his thumb tracing the Light's bottom lip. The Light in question, merely smiled brightly and closed his eyes, enjoying Marik's touches as the Darkness traced every one of his features.
"By Ra, you're beautiful," breathed Marik.
Ryou beamed, opening his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Marik's neck, and, tiptoeing, managed to plant a small kiss on Marik's lips.
"You are too, Marik."
Smirking, Marik proceeded to thrust a forceful, chaste kiss on Ryou's lips. Ryou squeaked, and Marik could feel his lips forming into a smile as he responded.
"Feeling better, Ryou?" asked Marik mockingly as he swirled Ryou around. Abruptly, he swiftly dipped Ryou down, until the Light's ivory hair brushed against the ground. Ryou yelped in surprise and laughed when Marik pulled him back up.
"Yes," Ryou nodded, smiling. Taking one of Ryou's hands in his own, Marik raised it to a shoulder-length level, while his other hand rested on Ryou's hip, leading them into a sort of random waltz. Ryou beamed and snuggled close to Marik's chest, giggling.
"You're not afraid anymore," commented Marik distantly as he swirled Ryou out. "The last time we danced, you were terrified." He swirled Ryou back into his arms, and felt Ryou shrug.
"It happens...," Ryou said softly, careful not to mention "love". He was afraid to scare off Marik again.
Smirking still, Marik placed a butterfly kiss against Ryou's cheek, and brought him closer.
"I know it does."
They danced until Ryou's legs could no longer support his weight, at which he fell, exhausted but happy, in Marik's arms. Smiling, Marik carried him to the bed, and gently laid him down. Ryou still had a firm clasp of Marik's neck, so Marik was dragged down with him. Smirking, Marik leaned against the bed's headboard, while Ryou laid on his side.
"Tired?" asked Marik, an arm around Ryou's shoulders. Ryou nodded, yawning. To Marik's surprise, Ryou gently placed his head against Marik's lap, in an oddly suggestive, but serene motion. Murmuring tiredly, Ryou wrapped his arms around Marik's waist, drawing him downwards.
"Stay with me tonight?" Ryou asked, yawning.
Marik smiled. Every night before, he had slept in a chair next to the bed. Tonight however...
"Of course."
Ryou beamed Marik slid down unto his back, weaving an arm around the small boy protectively. Marik's heart soared at Ryou's happy smile. He had never seen Ryou this cheerful, this merry. Gently, he coaxed Ryou's face upwards, and placed this time, a gentle kiss on Ryou's lips.
"Good night."
"Good night," whispered Ryou. And soon, they drifted off to sleep.
Shadows were everywhere, but at least the place was a lot less denser than the other places Bakura had been. He leaned against the Shadows' barrier, smirking as he felt Ryou's emotions leak through him. How intriguing. He was right. Ryou did love Marik...well, then again,he wasn't the only one who loved an Ishtal.
"Bakura!" called a voice. Smirking, Bakura turned around, and swiftly grabbed Malik's wrist, pulling him closer.
"Yes?" he smirked, allowing his eyebrow to arch seductively in a mildly interested manner. Malik laughed.
"Not going to work this time," he said, pushing Bakura away. The thief merely smirked again, taking Malik's refusal as a challenge.
No sooner had Malik noticed the glint in Bakura's eyes had the thief thrust Malik into the Shadows' wall, as well as his tongue down Malik's throat. He heard Malik moan, supposedly in some sort of an annoying manner, but all it really did was deepen the kiss. Of course, Malik was always a person hard to predict.
When they finally broke away, Malik cocked his head. "Gods, what was that for?"
Bakura shrugged, his face triumphant. "I was...bored?"
Malik laughed again, a melodious laugh that made Bakura's heart speed and his fingers twitch.
"Business," said Malik firmly.
"Aw, must we?" said Bakura, pretending to scowl at the Shadows next to him. Malik laughed again.
"Don't do that, Bakura," he said, shaking his head. "Pouting just makes you look cuter than you are."
"I don't pout," said Bakura bluntly. "And I'm not cute."
"That's..." smirked Malik, "...all in a matter of opinion."
Another challenge.
Snickering lowly, Bakura managed to pin Malik against the wall, and before Malik could protest, the thief had already trailed his slender but strong fingers up underneath Malik's shirt, deeply outlining Malik's abs. Malik bit back a moan, but as Bakura increased the pressure, the malicious Light could not help but do so. Bakura smirked triumphantly when his goal was met, and leaned in close to Malik's face.
"Business?" he repeated. "How odd. Usually you ask for pleasure."
"We all change," smirked Malik back as he pushed Bakura away. In truth, Malik did like it ...a lot...when Bakura was seductive. Sadly, it seemed as though anything turned the thief on, anything from a simple kissto even a slap in the face, would lead to him ontop and the victim on the bottom.
"Business," sighed Bakura, looking exasperate. "What troubles you now, my fair Keeper?"
Malik frowned at the title used, but Bakura merely laughed, laying a finger on Malik's lips.
"You know...you don't look half bad pouting either."
"Shut up," said Malik, smiling. "And get your finger off me, or I'll bite it," he joked.
"I have other things I'd rather you bite," said Bakura airily. Malik gave him a look somewhere between shocked and exasperate and incredulous, but Bakura looked casual, if not truthful. Snorting, Malik ran a hand through his hair, knowing exactly what would ruin the mood Bakura was so easily setting.
"Look," Malik said firmly. "I really don't think that was nice of you to do that Ryou."
"Oh what now?" sighed Bakura, rolling his eyes. "What is it with you Ishtals and my hikari?"
Malik blinked. "What?"
"Your darker half," said Bakura, a low note in his tone, "is seemingly doing things to my Light that I find absolutely unacceptable."
"Oh?" frowned Marik. "Like what?"
An instant flash of light in Bakura's feral red eyes made Malik hold up his hands as protection.
"Okay, perhaps I don't want to know right now."
"You sure?" smirked Bakura, his fingers intertwining with Malik's. Malik stepped back confidently, giving Bakura smirk.
"I'm sure," he assured. Sighing, he looked up, blowing some hair out of his eyes. Such pretty eyes too, now that Bakura actually took a good look at it...a pastel shade of lavender, large and innocent. And pretty face too. And pretty throat...
"On topic, Bakura," said Malik firmly, noticing Bakura lick his lips fleetingly. Bakura rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall. "You really shouldn't have done that to Ryou. Even if he may not love mou hitori no boku..."
"He loves your...'mou hitori no boku'," said Bakura snappishly. "And doesn't it all fit, very well? Ryou is my Light, my host. No one else should tell me how to punish him, least of all you, since you wanted me to destroy your Darker half anyways."
"But I didn't want you to destroy Ryou," argued Malik. "He's my friend, whether you like it or not, Bakura. You should show more decency towards your Light."
"He's nothing to me but a vessel," said Bakura bluntly. "Nothing more."
"But he's more than a vessel to me," said Malik firmly. "Please, Bakura, can't you just follow my suggestions for the time being?"
"What, and become your dog?" asked Bakura scathingly. "No thanks. I usually do individual work, anyways."
"Look," sighed Malik, stepping closer to Bakura. "At the very least, can you let me handle Ryou? It wasn't very nice at all to be playing with his mind, making him watch my darker half die right in front of his eyes. Even if Ryou doesn't love Marik, that's still tramautizing for anyone..."
"There are two rebuttals for that," interrupted Bakura, looking upwards at the sky, as though praying for some patience. "One, Ryou does love Marik, which makes everything all the more worse for him and happy for me, and two, when Ryou lives with me for as long as it takes, he's going to get used to bloodshed."
"Oh, Bakura," sighed Malik. He looked up, allowing his lavender eyes to enlarge slightly, making his face all the more younger, his posture all the more innocent. "Please...can't you just let me handle Ryou? You can torture and hurt my darker half all you want, since we want him dead anyways...but let me handle Ryou, please?"
"Hmn, now the only thing wrong with that..." started Bakura sarcastically, but was cut short when Malik suggestively leaned against him, the bulge beneath his pants rubbing slightly against Bakura's, his lips only millimeters apart from the thief's. Fiddling idly with Bakura's buttons, Malik casually opened them apart, allowing Bakura's turqoise shirt to expose some of the thief's heavenly chest. Never losing eye contact, Malik gently pressed against the thief, and trailed his tongue up Bakura's chest.
"Please?"
"T-The only thing wrong with ---" stuttered Bakura slightly, slightly annoyed at himself for stumbling, but Malik's gaze was utterly entrancing, and Bakura couldn't help but notice the wonderful sensation the Egyptian was playing down his abdominals as Malik flipped open more buttons. He really lost it when Malik suddenly pressed a seductive kiss upon his lips, his tongue trailing across Bakura's, moaning deeply.
When Malik broke away, he gave Bakura a mildly interested look.
"You were saying?"
Bakura smirked, and instantly pounced ontop of Malik.
"Nothing's wrong with that."
Hmn, I seem to be giving Bakura all the good lines. (snickers) Hmn, well, I have to think of some good ones for Marik, but sadly, he has a sensitive lover, not a seductive naughty one. (pats Malik) Okay, so...votes please! Basic, some lemon, or explicit lemon? Read and review and tell me!!
(Hugs) Thanks so for so many reviews so far!
