Title: Illicit Love
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
Warning: Yaoi, drug use, swearing

Chapter Three

Bakura stared at the piece of paper, address written in tiny letters. Brown eyes narrowed as he looked up at the house, features contorting in question. Frowning, the snowy haired teen headed up to the house, walking past the Nissan in the driveway. Going up to the door, he reached out, knocking harshly, wanting to get Marik's attention.

Bakura stood there for a few moments before he heard movement. "I coming...I coming..." came the drunken slurs as someone unlocked the front door. When it opened, brown eyes stared at the man who could have only been Marik's father. "Whatcha want?" he demanded, sipping from the nearly full bottle of beer, the amber liquid dripping from the corners of his mouth.

"Um...is Marik here?" Bakura asked, trying his hardest not to flinch away from the smell of alcohol.

The blonde in front of his stared before scowling. "You a friend of the little bastard?" he questioned, but waved Bakura in, walking off. "Marik! Get your punk ass down here!"

Stepping into the house, Bakura shut the door and watched as the man retreated back into the living room. Standing there, the snowy haired teen wondered if anyone was alive anywhere else in the house. His silent questioned was answered after five minutes when Marik finally emerged at the top of the stairs, his bloodshot eyes narrowed as they fell on Bakura.

"Why you here?" Marik asked, stumbling as he tried to walk down that first step.

Shaking his head, Bakura headed up the steps as Marik continued to come down them, catching the blonde before he fell. The snowy haired teen pushed Marik back up the stairs, and he blonde headed for his room. Shaking his head again, Bakura followed him, and his face contorted in disgust, seeing the empty beer bottles. Aside from the few empty bottles, Marik's room was clean, and dark.

The blonde went over and lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as his eyes began to close. "Oh no, stay awake," Bakura ordered. "Trashed or not, you're helping with this assignment." Going over to the blonde, he leaned down and tapped his cheek.

"Nnn...leave me 'lone," Marik mumbled, swatting the hand away. Violet eyes opened again to glare. "Go away."

"No," Bakura snapped. "You're fucking helping me with this Goddamn thing. Jesus, why'd you have to get so fucking trashed..." Sighing, he got off the bed and looked around the room. His brown eyes settled on the bookcase and he slowly made his way over to it, looking through the books. Surprisingly, he found three books on the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Pulling the books from the shelf, he decided to see what else the blonde liked to read.

He was a little surprised to see so many books about drugs, not that anyone would be able to tell. Glancing back to the blonde, he frowned, heading back over to the bed. He looked at the sight before him; the blonde stretched out on his bed, hair tussled, mouth open slightly as he remained in his semi-conscious state, eyes half open. Shaking his head, Bakura looked down at the night stand, eyes narrowing slightly.

He reached out, carefully grabbing the handle of the tiny drawer, pulling it out. Inside, he found the card; face up, on the glass plate, the bags hiding under it. He was about to reach into it when a tan hand slammed the drawer shut and shoved him away.

"What the hell are you doing!" Marik hissed, eyes narrowed dangerously.

Bakura stared at him. "You really are a pathetic junkie!" he stated. "So this is why you don't give a damn about anything? Too busy killing brain cells?"

Marik glared and shoved Bakura away from his night stand. "You don't know a fucking thing about me," he stated. "I do what I have to in order to live fucking day after day." He stopped and snorted, his lips curling into a sneer. "Not like you give a damn."

Bakura stared at him, and his brown eyes narrowed as took a step towards Marik, ready to retort before he was interrupted. "Marik! Get your fucking ass down here!" his father shouted from downstairs.

Marik turned his attention to the door, then back to Bakura, and sighed, walking past the snowy haired teen. Either way, he couldn't win. He either dealt with his father first, or Bakura, and neither were looking very good for a happy outcome. Leaving his room, the blonde slowly made his way down stairs, stumbling slightly, but otherwise without problems.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the living room, his father standing there with a steady glare. "You've been taking some of my beers!" he hollered, stepping towards Marik. "You lousy, no good, son of a bitch!" Raising his fist, the older blonde brought his fist across Marik's cheek, sending him to the floor. In a drunken rage, and with him still as stoned as he is, Marik could honestly say he didn't stand a chance.

Marik wheezed as he hit the floor hard, the muscles in his chest tightening. He stared down at the floor, his vision tunneling as he tried to stand, the darkness slowly creeping in. He turned over slightly, his father's black shoe connecting with the side of his face. Groaning, Marik wiped the blood from his lip. The shoe came down again, this time on his chest, and the blood freely rolled from the corner of his mouth as he nearly screamed, rolling onto his stomach, curling into a ball.

"You worthless piece of shit!" his father shouted. "Where is all my damn beer? I bet you and that fucking friend of yours is up their drinking it now!"

"You've been drinking it you dumb fuck!" Marik snapped, then groaned in pain as his chest constricted. He wheezed, breath coming in short gasp, his eyes dilated to the point that he was looking out a pin whole. The blonde wished silently that the darkness would take him, that he would never have to see the light again.

Marik tried to get off the ground, his legs shaking. Blood stained his shirt and the carpet, and the violet eyed teen slowly made his way for the stairs. His father sneered as he stormed back into the kitchen, and the blonde shook his head. Slowly making his way up the stairs, Marik wiped his mouth and chin, then remembered Bakura was still in his room.

Sighing, he stopped outside his room, staring at the door. He didn't care if people knew he was a druggie, or that he got drunk at least once a week, failed his classes, or anything to that affect. The thing he cared about most was that no one found out about his father's abuse; but now Bakura had heard him.

Scowling, and putting his normal glare on his face, Marik stormed into his room. He looked towards his bed, seeing the snowy haired teen by his bed, looking just as angry. For a moment, the blonde was confused, but didn't show it, wondering why Bakura looked just as pissed as he was. He soon figured it out, his eyes falling on the two bags in Bakura's hand.

"What are you—" Marik started, but Bakura cut him off quickly.

"Is this all you do in your spare time?" Bakura demanded, tossing the bags down, white powder spilling out onto the side table. "Get high, get drunk, and then let your father beat the shit out of you! No wonder you're so fucking pathetic..." Bakura had no chance to finish what he wanted, Marik's fist connecting with the side of his face.

Within seconds, Bakura found himself on the bed, tan hands around his throat. Brown eyes stared up at the blonde, staring into raging violet eyes. "You...you don't know a fucking thing about me...!" the bigger teen screamed. "You think you're so fucking perfect! But what troubles have you ever had? A bad fucking grade! You wouldn't last a day as me!" Bakura instantly felt the sting of flesh against flesh as Marik's fist slammed against him again.

Above him, Marik stared down with a sneer as the snowy haired teen winced, his face turning red. Violet eyes watched him carefully, the grip on his neck slacking slightly. The amount of rage he felt was just reaching the boiling point; everything coming to a head, and he no longer felt like he could handle it.

Earlier in the principal's office, he was told that if his grades didn't improve, the odds of him graduating were nonexistent. His body was building up a resistance to the drugs he used, and was slowly increasing the amount he used. His father's abuse was slowly increasing in devastation. The blonde wasn't sure he could handle much more.

"You're full of excuses," Bakura said from his spot on the bed, brown eyes narrowed at the blonde, mostly out of confusing at the sudden change in demeanor. "So, what's your reason for the drugs? To escape the pains of your life?" He stopped, snorting in disgust. "I bet you use to cut yourself. That's probably why you pick on my brother! It's an escape for you! Well grow up! You aren't the only one with problems!" As he spoke, he could feel the hand around his throat tighten, until his voice was coming out in a rasp. "Instead of constantly getting high, why don't you get your shit together and try to get the fuck out of here?"

Marik gritted his teeth, his jaw locking, and his brought his fist against Bakura's cheek again. "You don't know a damn thing about me," he growled, an inch from Bakura's face. Violet locked with brown, and the two teens stared at each other for a long moment before Marik snorted. "You fucking come into my room, and look through my shit, and expect to know everything about me! You don't know jack shit about me... You couldn't even begin to understand the hell I go through every day!"

"You mean the hell you bring upon yourself?" Bakura snarled. "...you fucking sit in your room and do a line or shoot up, or whatever you do, instead of going out and try to better yourself!"

Marik gave Bakura a cold, hard stare, before a malicious grin broke out on his face. "Better myself?" he repeated, his hand moving from Bakura's neck to grip at his hair, forcing his head back with a sharp yank. "There is no hope for me," he whispered, and Bakura could feel his hot breath dance across his lips. "Ra had forsaken me long ago..."

Bakura stared up with wide brown eyes, suddenly detesting the closeness between him and Marik. He heard a small, annoyed sounding growl escape the blonde's before he surged forward; crushing their lips together in a kiss so full of anger it made him sick to his stomach. He pushed against Marik, trying to shove the blonde off, only to have the grip on his hair tighten. The snowy haired teen gasped, trying not to groan in pain.

Marik's hungry mouth eagerly swallowed any sound Bakura had to make, pressing forward, his tongue invading the moist cavern before him; exploring every inch, enjoying how Bakura struggle against him. He groaned softly as Bakura dug his nails into him as an attempt to get him off, and only grinned, biting into Bakura's lips roughly.

The blonde finally pulled away, his lungs begging for air, and he stared down at Bakura with a grin, taking notice of the shock and disgust in brown eyes. "Like I said, you know nothing about me," he stated, getting off the bed, releasing Bakura. "Now get out."

The snowy haired teen stared wide eyed at the blonde. He nodded wordlessly and got off the bed, quickly moving past Marik and out the room. He quickly left the house, wanting to get as far away as fast as he could. His pale hands reached up shakily, brushing against his bruised lips. The moment played over in his mind a million times, and for some reason, he couldn't get the thought out of his head that he wanted it to happen again.