Bikeshipping (Honda Hiroto/Marik Ishtar)
. . .
"That's a nice bike," Marik said.
"Yours looks pretty good too—that's not a model I've seen before."
Marik shrugged, laying his helmet lightly on the handle bars.
"I cobbled it together myself. Took a few years. And a lot of books."
Honda's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.
"You built it from scratch?"
"Yeah. Is that surprising?"
Honda just shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with a half grin.
"I just figured the head of an international crime organization could buy himself a couple of motorcycles," he said.
Marik laughed. He covered it up with one hand, but the way Honda had said it, so casually, made the laughter snort out of him through his nose.
"Well, my first couple of motorcycles were, in fact, bought with my criminal money," he said, giving Honda cross-eyed grin. "But I wanted something I had put myself into, you know?"
Honda leaned against his own motorcycle, his hands resting casually on the seat, and he grinned. There was a sparkle in his eye that made Marik think that he knew exactly what he was talking about.
"I get it," he said. "I've modded this baby a bit myself."
"Looks like it," Marik said, eyes glancing over the shiny silver and the careful decals of flames added to the back. He sent Honda a wide grin then. "How fast does it go?"
Honda's grin matched Marik's in it's excitement.
"Wanna find out?" he said, swinging his helmet off of the handlebars.
Marik grabbed his own and jammed it onto his head.
"I know a few places where we won't get caught drag racing," he said.
"Challenge accepted, Marik Ishtar. Get ready to eat my dust."
Marik just laughed as Honda threw his leg over the seat of his bike. Marik revved his own bike a few times just to feel the heady vibration and hear it rumble, and Honda echoed the sound.
"As if. You'd better be ready to eat mine instead," he said.
. . .
A/N: Just some nerds bonding over bikes. Next is Bickershipping (Marik x Jonouchi x Seto).
