Fontshipping (Marik Ishtar x Kajiki Ryota)

. . .

Marik really didn't think fishing was going to do him any good, but Ishizu had insisted that it was relaxing and he should add it to his list of "potential coping mechanisms." Ugh, he wanted to roll his eyes just hearing that phrase, but just to get her off his back, he had said he would consider it.

Now, here he was, sitting on the end of a pier with a fishing rod and bored out of his skull—but anything was better than being trapped in the house for one more minute. It was so cold with the air conditioning turned up. He felt like he was back in the tombs, and that more than anything was setting his skin on edge.

At least here, he could see the ocean...the ocean had always been comforting to him.

He let his eyes cross as he stared out over the endless horizon, with nothing but a handful of boats to mar the endless connection between sea and sky...

"Whoa! Hey there, I think you've got a big one!"

Marik blinked—and then his fishing rod yanked out of his hands. He made a wild grab for it—but another pair of hands got there first, snatching it back. Sandaled feet planted against the dock and dug in as a tanned, muscled body leaned back on the line. Marik could only watch with his mouth hanging open as the sudden newcomer leaned back and forth against the pull of the string. For a moment he seemed almost completely one with the fishing rod, his body twisting back and forth expertly with each tug and yank. Marik wondered if he should be embarrassed about how blatantly he was staring at the newcomer's muscled arms. ...nah.

Then with a mighty heave that send his biceps rippling slightly, the young man yanked the fish onto the pier.

"Now that's what I call a fish!" he crowed, grinning at the catch. It had to be almost two feet long—Marik could hardly believe fish this big came this close to the pier.

The boy grinned widely down at him as the fish flopped in between them.

"Nice catch you got there! Sorry about me butting in, but I didn't want you to lose 'im!"

"No, that's all right," Marik said, not too subtly glancing over the young man's shirtless torso. "I don't think I could have done that with as much finesse as you; I probably would have lost the whole rod. You have a talent."

"Aw, shucks, it's not so much talent as it is stubbornness," the young man laughed. "Names Kajiki. Kajiki Ryota."

The Japanese syllables rolled off his tongue easily, and it was only now that Marik realized that he was foreign. His Arabic had been so flawless that he hadn't recognized even a hint of an accent at first.

He took the hand extended to him and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. This Kajiki had a very strong grip...Marik liked it.

"I'm...Marik Ishtar," he said, as always having a moment's hesitation before saying his real name. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Please to meet you too!" Kajiki said with a grin. "So, Ishtar-san—you gonna keep that fish or throw it back?"

Marik glanced at the monstrous fish. He really didn't want anything to do with it, but...

"I'm not sure what to do with it," he said. "I don't know what you do after you catch one. I didn't think I'd get that far."

"Well you gotta clean it, of course," Kajiki said. "I don't want to impose on ya, but do you want me to show you how?"

"Sure," Marik said, letting a smile roll over his face. "I'd like that."

Fishing might be all right if he could snag himself at least one date out of it.

. . .

A/N: I have a headcanon that Marik is a raging homosexual who flirts automatically with everyone and dates very casually and you will pry that headcanon out of my cold dead fingers. Next is Fogshipping (Seto x Ryota).