Calming
Twitch.
Twitch. Twitch.
"What does it say, Malik?" Marik asked. "You're getting all twitchy, like I used to when I wanted to kill someone."
Glaring at the innocent item of clothing held in his clenched hands, Malik spat out between gritted teeth, "You're not far off, Marik. I am going to kill Bakura."
"Bakura? Why? I thought Ryou was the one who gave you that shirt," Marik said, confused. "And what does it say, hikari? You know I can't read Japanese."
Growling low in his throat, Malik managed to seethe out an answer. "It says: 'My alter ego thinks you have serious mental problems'. And to answer your second and third questions, Bakura was probably the one who picked out the shirt, but he made Ryou give it to me. Which means that Bakura is the one who…"
"…thinks you have mental problems?" Marik finished.
"Yes," Malik hissed out between clenched teeth.
"But we do, Malik," Marik pointed out. "I'm not homicidal anymore, but you couldn't call either of us completely sane by any matter of means."
Malik let out a long breath through his nose before saying, "I know. But it's the principle of the thing. And he's one to talk!"
"I think he's still sore over that shirt the Pharaoh gave him," Marik said confidentially.
Raising one golden eyebrow, Malik prompted, "The Pharaoh?"
"Uh-huh. He never told me what it said, but he was furious," Marik confided. "If Ryou hadn't calmed him down he probably would have gone out and killed someone."
Frowning, Malik asked, "How did Ryou calm him down?"
A predatory grin coming over his face, Marik stalked towards his lover seductively. "Well, take off your clothes, koi, and I'll show you…"
Several hours later, Malik lay in bed next to his sleeping lover. He was sore, sticky, sweaty, exhausted, and thought he'd never be able to orgasm again in his life.
Damn, that had been fun. He supposed he wouldn't kill the tomb-robber or his hikari just yet. Especially if Marik would continue to 'calm' him like this.