Chapter 16-Two Words
Three months had passed since Marik's attempted suicide, three months of laughter, tears, and a great deal of changes. Ryou and Bakura were a well known couple by now. So were Yugi and Pharaoh Atem, and, though they were not officially together, both blonde Egyptians lived in the same apartment, choosing to stay in Domino while Rishid and Ishizu returned to Egypt. Still, things weren't perfect. Putting the past behind them had been harder for Malik and his yami than either would like to admit. Malik still jumped at the slightest hint of the Darkness' former behavior, and, though his physical wounds had healed, Mariku would often be awakened in the night by the sound of his own screams.
"What's for dinner?"
"What else? Take out." Malik smirked at his darker half, finding the annoyed look on his face rather amusing. "If you're such a picky eater, Marik, maybe you should learn to cook."
Mariku crossed his arms and turned his attention back to the open window. "Don't have time."
"Don't have time? Come on, what else could you possibly be doing?"
Rolling his eyes, the spirit got up and started flipping through the phone book. "Well, by the time I come up with and successfuly execute my next plan for world destruction, I don't believe there will be much of a chance to practice culinary arts, do you?" He paused when he got to the yellow pages. "What was the name of the one middle eastern restauraunt again?"
Slamming the phone against the counter, Malik glared at his yami. "Asshole. You shouldn't kid about shit like that!"
"What the fuck? I was joking!"
"Well don't! It scares people!"
"Oh, is that it?" Mariku stood up, eyes glinting sharply. "You're scared of me? Well I'm glad you feel this way! I'm glad you're fucking scared! After all, who knows when a psycho like me will snap and go on a Ra-damned rampage!"
Malik winced at the hurt hiding behind the spirit's biting words. "T-thats not what I meant. I just..."
"Just what?" Mariku pulled his hands into firsts and then relaxed them quite suddenly. Why bother getting mad? He couldn't really blame Malik for fearing him. No matter how hard he strove to better himself, the spirit would never get around one, simple fact. He was born of hate, and though his soul had finally learned to express other, better emotions that hatred would never leave. It was a fundamental part of him, as essential as it was frightening. "Whatever," the Darkness muttered. "I'm leaving."
Malik listened to the other's footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite his often cruel demeanor, his yami could be surprisingly sensitive at times. The teen grabbed the probably damaged phone off the counter and began dialing. Maybe Ryou would know what to do.
"Ow! Stop it! Kura, stop!" Ryou giggled madly as the Thief continued to nip at the soft skin below his throat, moaning every so often as he slid his tongue across that pale expanse of flesh. Bakura continued his ministrations despite the Brit's protests. He knew he liked it.
"Mmm, you taste good, hikari." Licking his by now slightly swollen lips, the spirit planted Ryou with a deep, bloodwarming kiss. Both gasped heatedly into eachothers' mouths, their tongues working almost frantically. The two were so lost in their passion that they didn't notice how close they had rolled to the edge of the mattress until...
They hit the floor with a dull thump, Ryou grunting in discomfort as Bakura's significant bodyweight hit him square in the stomach. He shook his head, mind still clouded by lust despite the fall. "Wow...that hurt."
"Hmm?" Bakura wasn't really listening. Instead he began working at the buttons of the teen's shirt, sorely tempted to rip the thing right off. Who cared if they were on the ground? The Brit's mewling provided enough evidence to the theory that location didn't really matter. Finally removing Ryou's shirt, the Thief brought attention to his lower body, deft fingers playing with the fringe of silver hair that trailed down from just below his navel. "You like that?"
Ryou choked and nodded as the spirit's hands danced lower. "Y-yes..."
"Then you'll love this." A devious smirk lit upon Bakura's face as his hands slipped below the hikari's belt. He was about to go in for the kill. He was about to...
...ring...ring...ring...ri...
"Damnit!" Jerking the phone off the bedside table, Bakura practically threw it at his light. "What the fuck is with that piece of shit? Its ruining my life!"
Ignoring the Thief's ranting, Ryou pressed the talk button. "Hello?"
"Ryou?"
"Oh Malik! How are you?" Strange, he sounded kind of upset.
"Its not a bad time, is it?"
The Brit glanced aprehensively at his yami, who, having finished spewing all the Egyptian curse words known to man, was now pacing about the room, pissed off and with an obvious erection. "Uh...no, of course not! What seems to be the matter?"
"Mariku and I got in another fight." Malik gave a rattling sigh. "I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes I get worried. I mean, I think he cares, but there's always the chance...
"The chance of what?" Bakura snatched the phone from Ryou's grasp. "That he's just messing around and doesn't give a shit about you? Come on, Malik! He was willing to fucking DIE for you!"
"I know!" The blonde really did sound miserable. "I just wish I knew how to connect with him. For being a part of me, he sure isdifficult to understand sometimes!"
"Its not that Ra-damned hard! Just...mmph..."
The Thief's scratchy voice was cut off ebruptly as Ryou reclaimed the phone. "Where's Mariku now?"
"I don't know! He got all depressed looking and just walked out!"
"Any idea where he is?"
"No. He shut down his mindlink when he left the house."
Ryou and Bakura exchanged looks. This could be bad.
"You'd better have a damn good excuse, tombkeeper." Bakura bitched to himself as he walked, the ever useful Sennen Ring pointing him in what he assumed was the right direction. He was at the docks. It was by now late evening, the time of night when the stars are just beggining to force their way through the purple mists of twilight. At other times the Thief King would have enjoyed this. There was no better time to hide oneself in shadows than at the brink of night. However as long as Mariku still elluded him, the spirit's mind refused to be at ease. He was fairly confident that the Darkness wouldn't try hurting himself again, but nothing in life was certain.
/Have you found him yet/
/No./ Bakura thought briefly of the fun he could be having with his hikari. /Have you/
Through their link he could sense Ryou's worry. /No. I haven't./
/Listen. Head back to Malik's house and see how he's doing. I don't think we'll.../
/We'll what/
Bakura didn't reply. Instead he ignored his mindlink and sprinted towards one of the most reclusive piers. He'd found Mariku. The Darkness stood at the very edge of of the dock, staring off into the grey-tinted ocean. His eyes were downcast. However their color mirrored that of the waves, creating a sort of shadowed lilac. Not knowing he was being watched, Marik pulled up the sleeve of his ever present pullover. He trailed his fingers almost absently along the scars before digging his nails violently into his wrist.
"Just what the hell are you doing?"
Turning around, Mariku actually appeared quite startled. He'd been so ensnared in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the other spirit approaching. Jerking down his sleeve, he returned Bakura's question with one of his own. "Why are you here?"
With an angry snort, the Thief grasped Marik by the front of his shirt and thrust him up against the wooden railing. "Because at this very moment your hikari is sitting at home crying his eyes out, scared shitless that you'll try killing yourself again. Becau..." Bakura stopped. Was that guilt burning in Mariku's eyes? "You weren't, were you? Don't lie, Marik! I saw you grabbing at your arm! How could you be so stupid? Do you really want to hurt Malik that badly?"
"No!" The Darkness shuddered. "No! Ra no! I wasn't...I-I swear. I was just angry...fustrated."
Bakura relaxed his grip, allowing the blonde to fall back onto his feet. "Why?"
"How do I tell him? What the fuck am I supposed to do to show Malik don't want to hurt him, that I want be with him...on a deeper level?"
"You mean as a lover?"
Mariku nodded. Yes, that was exactly what he wanted.
The jealousy that had never really died flickered briefly in the Thief King's soul. He loved Ryou. He loved Ryou with all his heart, but a part of him couldn't let go. He just had to know what he could have had with Mariku. "Can I ask you a favor?"
The Darkness shrugged.
"Kiss me."
"What?" Marik's eyes grew very wide. "I thought we were over this! I already told you, I don't..."
Bakura put a finger to the blonde's lips. "Shh, I know. I'm not asking you to be my lover. I...I just need to know something."
For a moment the dusky-eyed Egyptian looked as if he might object, but then, with a wistful sigh, he placed his lips on those of the tombrobber. It was a dry, chaste kiss that lasted only moments, but in that brief span of time Bakura saw everything. He saw his life as it would have been, the heartache, the laughter, the joy, and the tears. He could see Mariku's eyes shining with lust as they lay tangled in eachother's arms and at the same see those orbs burning hatefully as they fought and screamed at eachother over some stupid misunderstanding. This was how their lives would play out, beautiful and angry and filled with a sort of bitter sweetness that would not fade with time. It was indeed a wild ride, undoubtedly wilder than his and Ryou's could ever be, but for some reason, when they pulled apart, Bakura didn't have any regrets. He had made his choice. 'Besides,' the Thief found himself thinking. 'Its not about the life you live. Its how you choose to live it.'
Slowly, Mariku pulled away from the older spirit. "Are you happy now?"
With a brief nod, Bakura turned and began walking away. However, upon reaching the far end of the pier, he stopped and looked back. "Go to your hikari, Marik. You need him every bit as much as he needs you." Then he was gone. The King of Thieves was a king no longer. He had become something more.
/Ryou/
/Kura! Are you alright? I was so worried when I couldn't reach you through our link./
/Yes, I'm fine. Leave Malik and meet me at home. Tell him Mariku is on his way./
/You found him./
Bakura practically choked on the relief coming from his lighter half's mind. /Yes. Now go home./ He smirked rather fiendishly. /After all, I believe we have some unfinished business to attend to./
Leaning against the doorframe, Malik studied his yami's sleeping form. Marik had come home a few hours ago, sheepish and unusually thoughtful but no less healthy than before. It had been weird too. After a few minutes of awkward silence, they had settled down to watch tv. The tension had nearly dissipated when the Darkness had gotten up, mumbling something about going to bed. This alone didn't surprise Malik, but when Mariku kissed him softly on the cheek before leaving, the teen found himself at a total loss for words. It was so bizarre, so completely un-Marik-like, that he just didn't know what to think.
Now, as he stood there staring at his yami's slumbering form, Malik couldn't help noticing that this was the first time since that week spent in the hospital that he had seen the Darkness in something other than a long-sleeved shirt. Mariku was ashamed of those scars. However it was an uncommonly warm evening, and the wild-haired blonde's chest and shoulders lay bare, their chisled contours clearly defined by a mix of light and shadow. Quietly, so as not to wake him from his slumber, Malik made his way over to the bed. He ran his fingers across spidery heiroglyphs on Marik's arm. The little ridges of flesh were delicate, amazingly so. It was strange to think that such marks were permanent. They would never truly heal.
The Darkness stirred suddenly. His body thrashed, and his mouth opened in a silent gasp. Malik pressed his hands against the spirit's shoulders, hoping he would finally lay still. "Mariku!" The spirit bucked harshly. His hands twitched. His body began to shudder. Then, quite unexpectedly, Mariku opened his eyes.
"Hikari?" His voice cracked slightly, its normal, dark quality still hampered by a veil of sleepy confusion.
Malik smiled and lay his head gently on the other's stomach. "Were you having a nightmare?"
"I...I don't know." Heat rose within Marik as he realized just how intimate this situation had become. His lighter half was lying on top of him, head resting low enough so that his soft bangs brushed against his navel. Tentatively, the spirit wrapped his arms around Malik's waist. When the teen didn't object, he went a bit further, slipping his hands beneath his cropped tee-shirt. "I shouldn't have walked out like that, hikari. It was a mistake."
Smiling at his yami's psuedo-apology, Malik used his own palms to caress Marik's chest and abdomen. His skin was so smooth, but the boy could feel the hardness of the body beneath, the strength and tension of those muscles that were so easily hidden by his wirey frame. "Mmm, its okay. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."
Mariku arched his back as the light's nails scraped 'innocently' across his nipples. Its...ahh..." Not knowing was else to do, the Darkness pulled at Malik's shirt, slipping the item over his head and casting it aside. Now, both bare from the waist up, the two Egyptians embraced fully. They crushed their bodies together, hands roaming, caressing backs, chests, faces, thighs, every bit of skin imaginable.
Malik's eyes rolled back as his yami planted silent kisses on his chin and throat. "Oh Ra...so good...Marik..." He was sitting in the spirit's lap now, erection pulsing between their flushed torsos. He wanted more. He needed more.
Sensing his hikari's distress, Mariku began fumbling at the fly of the boy's jeans. He found Malik's lack of underwear rather appealing. The Darkness worked his hands down the back of his light's pants, only to stop suddenly as his own phantom fears took hold.
"Marik?" Through a haze of lust, the flaxen-haired youth gazed wonderingly at his yami. Mariku's body had grown suddenly stiff. His eyes appeared to be staring off into space, their amethyst facets glazed over with fright. "Marik!" Grasping him bythe upper arms, Malik gave the spirit a good shake. "Hey, snap out of it!"
Mariku cried out as his light's hand came in contact with the scars covering his arm. He jerked away, clawing frantically at the carvings. It was like the Darkness was trying to rub something away, get rid of some sort of imperfection that refused to be erased. Whimpering quietly, he drew further away from Malik, pulling his boxer-clad legs to his chest. "So sorry," he whispered distractedly. "I didn't...I didn't mean to..."
"Mariku, what's wrong?" Malik reached out, grasping his yami's hand. "Why are you sorry?"
"I shouldn't...we shouldn't...do this. I don't want to hurt you like..."
"...like you were hurt." Gently, the blonde kissed one of the gashes on Marik's wrist. "Don't worry. You'll never hurt me like that. I know this because I know you love me, because I know I love you."
A strange keening sound bubbled up in the back of the spirit's throat. It's source was indistinguishable, somewhere between a moan and a sob. Wrapping his arms around the teen's neck, Mariku pushed Malik over onto his back. He kissed him hard and deep, throwing all the strength of his soul into plundering the mouth of the person who loved him. Malik loved him. Malik Ishtar loved him, and nothing else could have made his shadowed heart so warm.
"Mmm...yami...yami please..." The teen mewled as his darker half removed the rest of their clothing. His body was flooded with sensations. He needed Marik inside him soon or he'd lose all control. Malik pulled one of the Darkness' hands to his mouth and licked it, coating his fingers with saliva.
Mariku watched Malik's face in rapt fascination as he stretched him. The boy had a habit of biting his lip when pleasured that was rather cute. When the fingers were at last replaced by his arousal, the hikari went from cute to completely erotic. Twisting from side to side, Malik screamed. It felt good, better than he'd ever imagined. The brief pain he felt at first was but a single thorn in an ocean of wildflowers. The Egyptian cried out again and again as that spot deep inside was struck. Malik felt free, wild, unhampered by any chains of doubt as his yami drove him past the point of lust and into a bliss so pure he might have been with Eros himself.
"Ma...lik..." Barely managing to utter his lover's name through his own labored breathing, Mariku's soul felt as if it were expanding, stretching to encompass something new, something that for so long had been out of reach. With each thrust the Darkness drove away the painful uncertainty of his existance and drew in love, acceptance, absolution, for that was everything his hikari had come to represent. Malik was his anchor to humanity, to being the sane, rational person that he could never become on his own. Malik was...Malik was the boy he loved...the boy who loved him back. That was all Mariku had to know. Anything less than that simply didn't matter.
Their orgasms hit together, both screaming their passion into the night as waves of euphoria threatened to wash them away. With a final moan, Marik's arms buckled, and he fell exhausted onto Malik's chest. The lighter boy smiled and ran his fingers through the spirit's sweaty hair. He stayed like this for a moment, silent and unmoving, listening to Mariku's rapid heartbeat. As the Darkness began to fall asleep, the palpitations slowed. Soon they were only as soft thrumming in his chest. Carefully, so as not to wake him, Malik rolled out from under his yami and wrapped his arms around the man's slender waist.
Before he too slipped from the realm of consciousness, the boy took a long moment to gaze at Mariku. It was strange, Malik thought, that someone born of the vilest parts of humanity could be so wretchedly beautiful, that just when you thought you had such a person figured out, a new aspect of their soul was thrust brutally and unapologetically into your face,but wasany of this really important? Who cared how this relationship had worked out? All that mattered was that they were with the people they loved. He thought of Yami and how for so long he had been blind to the love staring him straight in the face. He thought of Bakura, who had been strong enough to swallow his jealousy and recognize just how many kinds of love there were, but mostly Malik just thought of Mariku. His beautiful, terrible, shattered Mariku, the one whose eyes he could drown in and who he'd promised to keep with him forever in the light.
Closing his own eyes, Malik finally gave in to the heavily approaching slumber. He no longer had any doubts. He had built his own destiny, a destiny revolving around two words, words he had once thought to be useless and fickle but which had changed his life.
...love...promises...
And to think it had taken pure darkness to show him the depth of their importance.
Owari
-UsuakariTOT (Well its over. I'm kind of sad, but now I get to start another fic so I'll get over it.
Oh, I almost forgot. This has to do with the part when Bakura thinks, 'Its not about the life you live. Its how you choose to live it.' I got that from a quote by someone whose name I can't remember. I don't think its taken word for word or anything, but the idea, beautiful though it may be, still isn't mine.)