Author's Note: Now that Christmas is over, I have to go back to work. Bleh. But hey, at least I'm finally getting this chapter out. Enjoy

Disclaimer: Me no own Yu-Gi-Oh! Rated M.

Thanks for reading. I update weekly!

Bon appetite!

Bakura found himself still trying to figure out Marik's birthday a few days after the fact. It had been somewhat of a shitstorm of a day, but somehow, they managed to survive. After they had played Duel Monsters for a while, the two of them and Odion went to check out an art exhibit, a temporary exhibit at – where else? – the Domino Museum. There had been a special exhibit on the art of Cezanne and Gauguin that Marik had been interested in.

Marik had been ecstatic about going, explaining things about art history and art techniques that Bakura had no clue about. He just nodded along and listened to Marik, happy to listen than really say anything. There was something enjoyable about listening to Marik talk about art. Bakura didn't really know anything about the subject, as much as he tried to absorb what Marik was telling him. He would occasionally exchange glances with Odion, who seemed just as ignorant and uninformed about art as he was.

Bakura debated pulling Odion to the side to ask him some questions. Bakura had many that he had accumulated over the past few weeks. He wanted to know Odion's account of what happened the night their father was murdered. He wanted to know why Odion was Marik's legal guardian while their father was still alive. He wanted to know if Odion knew about his knife that Marik had taken. He wanted to know about that fight he had with Marik on his birthday. There were a lot of gaps in these stories, missing holes that just didn't make sense. And he suspected that Odion knew more than he let on.

Before Bakura could ask his questions though, their little group was joined by a fourth member – Ishizu. Bakura had to hold back a stream of swears when she came by, wanting to wish her brother a happy birthday. Marik was baffled by the intense animosity between the two of them. A quick exchange of "he said/she said," Odion put the arguing two at rest. They both agreed on a truce for Marik's birthday. Marik seemed somewhat peeved by their continued fighting, though he did remark to Bakura that he finally understood where the cut on his lip came from.

Even in spite of that awkward encounter, Marik somehow had a very enjoyable birthday. He was gushing his thanks by the end of the day, still energetic by the end of their long adventure. Bakura was sure they had fucked up his birthday at multiple points but Marik didn't care. In fact, he was downright thrilled by how his birthday went. He must have had some real shitty birthdays if he thought today was just stellar.

However, in the following days, Bakura faced a new issue – boundaries. Marik had declared Bakura to be his best friend, but now this proving to be an issue given Bakura's feeling for the young Egyptian. The albino had thought that Marik's rather teasing moment with the smoothie was just a fluke. He figured Marik had just wanted to taste his sweet treat. Bakura had overreacted by how close and intense Marik appeared while drinking the drink.

But now, Bakura realized that Marik's lack of knowledge regarding boundaries was becoming more problematic. When they watched movies together, Marik would always want to cuddle. When they went out into town to research or just hang out, Marik always insisted on holding hands with Bakura or else he would fall because of the icy roads. Over the course of those two weeks, Bakura watched in horror as the delicate line that was the touch barrier was shattered and Marik was constantly seeking affection.

In one aspect, Bakura didn't mind. Well, he did mind, but not as much as he thought he would. Honestly, this was the best thing that could have happened given any other circumstances. A month ago, Bakura wouldn't have cared – he knew that Marik was bad at figuring out a person's boundaries. He was used to Marik encroaching on his personal space. But now with his crush on Marik, this was turning into a nightmare. Bakura was constantly excusing himself or finding reasons to take his leave of Marik, uncomfortable by how close and touchy Marik was.

Understandably, Marik seemed rather confused and frustrated by Bakura's reaction, always baffled by Bakura's rather panicked and brusque exits whenever they hung out. But Bakura didn't care. He had to correct his mistakes – he couldn't lead Marik on like this and jeopardize their friendship. For Marik, these sort of physical interactions were nothing more than friendly – Bakura had to put an end to this and lay down the lines more clearly with him.

These awkward encounters only compounded Bakura's worry as he tried to figure out how to tell Marik about his feelings in a way that would keep his ego intact. He wanted to tell Marik that he cared about him, but he couldn't tell him he cared that much. Otherwise, he'd never hear the end of it. Bakura was finally reaching the point where if he didn't tell Marik, he was going to stress himself out more. It was better to get the words out there, to tell Marik what he sincerely felt for the young man and get a quick answer that way.

The only problem was Bakura was absolutely clueless on how to tell Marik.

Bakura was taking a break from researching in his apartment. Marik had been feeling a bit under the weather today and Ryou had left to visit Yuugi earlier that morning. This left Bakura alone as he now paced around the living room, his research on the Puzzle spread across any flat surface available. After finding out the design of the Puzzle, their progress had been slow but sure. They were slowly figuring out the trail, finding out where the puzzle had been passed on. It was a matter of figuring out its latest owner.

However, the puzzle was the furthest thing on Bakura's brain. His mind wasn't focusing on the case – he was rehearsing how he might talk to Marik. He knew it was inane to continue torturing himself like this, but once Bakura set him mind to a task, it was really impossible to draw him away. Despite all the crazy shit going on in his life, this somehow was on his list of important things to do. Only Marik would manage to do this to me. He went over how he might even address the subject of their relationship.

"Marik, we've known each other for a long time. Well, perhaps not a long time, but three months is a long time in my book. Maybe not yours, but time is irrelevant. Well, not irrelevant-"

Too convoluted. Make it simpler.

"Marik, are you familiar with the expression 'the birds and the bees?' What are feelings about 'the bees and the bees?'

Too obscure. Be blunt.

"Marik, would you… what are you preferences? Sexually? Well, not sexually. But romantically. If I'm not be clearing, I guess what I'm trying to ask is if you're gay."

Waaaay too blunt. Back it off a bit.

"…Marik, I don't know how to put this into words, but over the time we spent together, I've considered you my closest friend. But friend doesn't cut. I don't want to be just friends with you. I want something more. And I know I'm sort of a jackass and maybe not the best pick of the bunch, but I was wondering if you felt the same way too. I just wanted to tell you that if you do, then I'm in."

… This is hopeless.

Bakura groaned as he fell back into the couch, one hand dragging across his face. What was the point? He had no earthly clue what he was doing. This was going to be a train wreck. Why did he care so damn much? He sighed as he turned his head to stare at the table next to him, his papers splayed out. He noticed the phone was flashing, indicating that there were more voicemails on his machine. Bakura growled as he turned over to face the back of the sofa.

Life is too damn complicated. How did this all even happen? Bakura felt like his life was simpler before he met Marik. Sure there were complications on the job, but work remained work. His personal life remained relatively stable outside of his arguments with Ryou. But since meeting Marik, that all seemed to have gone out the window. Even his relationship with his brother reached a breaking point during this odd escapade known as "hanging out with Marik and fucking shit up on the job." He had thought this would have been a simple mission. How foolish he had been.

He heard the phone ring as he laid on the couch. He glanced up to look at the caller ID, recognizing it as Mai's number. He turned his head back to stare at the ceiling, letting the call go to voicemail. Like hell he wanted to talk to Mai. She would just give him a bigger headache. He would contact her when he was ready. What was the worse she could do? He closed his eyes as he listened to Mai's message, feeling numb as he lazed on the couch.

"Bakura, babe, it's me. You sure know how to break a girl's heart! I've left you four voicemails and you still haven't returned my calls. I'm beginning to wonder if you're even serious about this! Call is my Achilles' heel, but I haven't quite given up on you yet. You better call me back or a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. How does the expression go? Oh! Desperate times call for desperate measures! So don't make me desperate, you goddamn son of a bitch! Tee hee! Call me!"

Bakura gritted his teeth, feeling his annoyance increase. He could tell that Mai was really pissed with him, despite her light and flirty tone. You only had to look at the fact that she called him a "son of a bitch" to know. He was finally starting to get to her. She can go do whatever the hell she wants. They need me so they can't do anything to hurt me. There was the protection he had. As much as he annoyed Yami and his crew, they needed him. They knew he was their best chance of collecting all the Millennium Items. That alone kept him safe and on their "good" side.

Bakura blinked his eyes opened as he heard the door open. His brother came walking in, arms heavy with bags of supplies. Bakura rolled his eyes as he sat up, watching as Ryou just dumped all of stuff on the table in front of him and on Bakura's research. The supplies lost balance and spilled over the table, much to Bakura's annoyance. He sighed as he decided to try and be civil with his brother. "How was your outing?"

Ryou took off his scarf and coat and went to go hang them up in the closet. "Pretty good, actually. Yuugi had a secret project he had been working on for years and he's finally finished. So he let me check it out and get some ideas for Monster World figurines and dioramas." Bakura rolled his eyes again, not surprised by his brother. Yeah, it was his job, but Ryou loved Monster World so much that Bakura wasn't even sure if it was healthy. He stood up as he walked over to the table. "Well good for you. Could you not dump your shit on my shit though?"

Ryou gave him a rather indignant and exasperated look. "Well, where else am I going to put my stuff? Your crap is everywhere." Bakura took a quick look around as his stuff sprawled everywhere in their living room. Ryou did have a point – Bakura was hardly a model of organization. The two of them shuffled through their various papers, Ryou occasionally pushing notes in his direction while Bakura shoved blueprints for different game pieces Ryou had designed.

Bakura grabbed one of his papers when Ryou reached to snatch it. "Bugger off." He muttered as he continued to sort through their mess. Ryou, however, went to grab the paper again. "Bakura, give it. That's mine." Bakura glanced down at drawing of the completed Millennium Puzzle. He just snorted as he held the paper out of Ryou's reach. "No it's not. This is something I drew for my notes. It's a sketch of what the final Item I need to extract looks like."

Ryou rolled his eyes, still trying to snatch the paper. "No, I drew that today over at Yuugi's. That was his secret project." Bakura rolled his eyes as he put the paper with his stack. "I sincerely doubt that." Ryou gave an annoyed huff before digging through his bag, occasionally pulling out different game pieces. Bakura blinked in surprised when Ryou pulled out a carefully wrapped pyramid. He took it out of the wrapping as he held out the item for Bakura to look at. Bakura held his breath, not daring to breathe.

It was the Millennium Puzzle.

Or at least, it was a replica of the Puzzle. However, there was no denying that this was the last Millennium Item. The first layer of paint had been laid down and he could still see the faint pencil sketch of details that Ryou wanted to add, but there was no questioning what this was supposed to look like. From the upside pyramid shape to the Millennium Eye structure at the center to the size and coloring – it was a perfect fit. How the hell…?

"Ryou, where did you get that design?" Bakura didn't dare hope that this was true. He knew that this had to be a trick. Ryou must have seen the design with his notes by accident and remembered. There was no way he was going to be this damn lucky, was he? Ryou just gave Bakura a strange look. "From Yuugi's puzzle." Bakura blinked, sitting down a moment as his head started reeling. "His puzzle?" He murmured softly, not believing what Ryou was telling him.

"Yeah, his puzzle. Yuugi's had this puzzle that he kept secret. I guess it was a gift from his grandfather back when he used to go on digs when he was younger. Yuugi's been trying to solve it the past eight years and he just solved it a few days ago. He invited me over to check out the finished project and told me I could use it as a model for prop design and inspiration for Monster World. Why? What's the big deal?"

Bakura stared at the floor, the model clenched in his hands. The Millennium Puzzle… the final Item in this case… was down the fucking road all this time? Bakura started laughing, feeling rather hysterical and relieved at the same time. This was it. The final piece to the job. He couldn't believe his luck. He caught Ryou's expression, his brother eyeing him cautiously. "Is everything okay, Bakura? You seem… a bit on edge." Bakura realized he probably looked manic to his twin. He probably was.

Bakura finally stopped laughing as he stood up, a large grin on his face. "Everything's fine. In fact, everything's more than fine – it's fantastic. This is beyond amazing. I can't believe it." Before Ryou could ask him what he was talking about, Bakura quickly pulled Ryou in for a hug. He felt Ryou stiffen before awkwardly patted his elder brother's shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you're happy. Care to explain to the rest of the class what's going on?" Bakura chuckled as he let go of his brother, unable to shake the feeling of elation he was experiencing.

"That Puzzle that Yuugi solved is the last Item I need on the case." Ryou stared at Bakura for a moment before his eyes widened. "Wait, seriously? Yuugi's puzzle… is a famous Egyptian artifact? Are you for real?" Bakura sniggered, turning away for a moment. "So it would seem. Now… where's the Puzzle at this moment?" Ryou watched Bakura carefully, as if trying to decide something. After a few moments, Ryou took back his model from Bakura. "Yuugi left with his grandpa for Tokyo. He's donating the Puzzle to the history museum there."

Bakura nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. So the Puzzle is heading to Tokyo. That's fine. It's inside the country – I can live with that. Bakura stood up, leaving his papers and notes laying everywhere. He grabbed his coat and scarf, planning to tell Marik the good news. Sure it was a bit later than usual, but Marik was probably still awake. He felt a hand grab at his arm before he could leave the apartment.

He glanced over curiously at Ryou, who was looking rather grave. "What?" How could he have done something wrong already? Ryou crossed his arms as he glared down his twin. "Bakura, I know we agreed you could finish up this job, but I swear if you do anything to hurt Yuugi, I-" Bakura blinked before chuckling, cutting off his brother. His brother could be so paranoid. I wonder where he picked up that habit from?

"I'm not going to hurt the brat, don't worry. I just need the Puzzle. Christ, Ryou, you make it sound like I'm a murderer or something." Bakura wrapped his scarf around his neck as he saw Ryou give him a stern look. "I'm serious – Yuugi's a good person. Don't hurt him." Bakura nodded, his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Bakura buttoned up his jacket before looking back at Ryou.

"I promise that Yuugi won't get hurt. My business doesn't concern him. I just need the Puzzle and then, it's over." He dropped his hands down as he let a small, soft smile grow on his face. Ryou caught the happy look, returning with his own tentative smile. "Then this is then? No screwing thing up, please?" Bakura laughed as he ruffled Ryou's hair, laughing even harder at Ryou's annoyed expression. "No more mistakes. We're almost there." Bakura smirked at his brother before turning to leave the apartment.

This is it – the final stretch. Let's do this.

Bakura glanced up at the night sky one last time as he entered Marik's apartment complex. Typically, Bakura left in the late evening to go home – he didn't particularly care for walking home in the dark. Although he did have his favorite knife back, it was best not to get in a fight at this point. Not when things were so closed to finally wrapping up. Bakura took off his scarf as he waited in the elevator, growing more impatient as he ascended.

He was thrilled to tell Marik the news. This was big – this was finally the concrete evidence they needed. Bakura didn't want to think too closely of what came after – right now they could deal with the case and figure out details afterwards of what they were going to do. Bakura thought it strange how he moved from thinking of them acting separately after their mission was over to a team. He initially thought it was from the time they worked together, but he knew better. It was those damn pesky emotions. It always was.

Best not think of that right now. Focus on the case. Bakura let himself into the apartment, hearing a faint noise coming from the bedroom. Noticing only one pair of shoes, he realized that Odion was working late that night. Knowing Marik, he was either building his deck for their next duel or back to the drawing board (literally). Bakura dumped his backpack onto the couch as he jogged down the hallway. He let a grin grow on his face as he let himself into Marik's bedroom. "Hey Marik! I've got some good n-"

Bakura was interrupted from a yelp, the albino suddenly startled from his thoughts. He realized that he had walked on while Marik was changing, a blush growing on Bakura's face. "When will you ever learn to fucking knock, you asshole?" The apology died on his tongue though as he saw why Marik seemed panicked and distressed. He blinked as he realized that Marik was in sweatpants and no shirt, his back facing Bakura. Suddenly, the pieces started to fall into place.

Marik's intense aversion to being touched on his back.

His apparent dislike and discomfort discussing his father.

How Odion became Marik's legal guardian while their father was still alive.

Bakura stared in shock at Marik's skin, scars covering most of his back. Extending from his shoulder blades down past the middle of his back, his skin had been mutilated with multiple deep scabs. There was no pattern to the senseless damage that was torn upon his skin. Bakura could see from where he was standing that a lot of the scars looked like Marik's back had been carved open with a knife. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of how painful that must have been.

He was broken from his thoughts as he saw Marik quickly turn to face him so as to hide his back. Bakura was suddenly very aware of the youth's growing anxiety, Marik avoiding all eye contact as glared at the floor. He looked like he was debating turning to face away Bakura, exposing his back, remaining where he was, or running out of the room. Marik hugged himself closer, his face a mask of fear and sadness. Bakura want to smack himself for barging in unannounced. He felt like a fucking asshole.

"Marik, I'm… I'm sorry. I should've knocked. I didn't mean to-" Marik shook his head, cutting Bakura as his shoulders sagged a little bit. "I know. It's all right. You just caught me off guard is all." Bakura knew that Marik was lying, that Bakura seeing his back had distressed him greatly. The more Bakura thought about it, he realized that Marik never let anyone touch his back, not even Odion. Bakura felt a guilty pang as he saw Marik's eyes, which were almost watery. Shit. Just… shit.

Bakura glanced around, looking for a moment before he spotted a t-shirt sitting on the dresser. He took a step and grabbed, looking down at the shirt before offering it to Marik. It wouldn't solve the problem, but at least Marik wouldn't be paralyzed around Bakura. The young man looked up in surprise, looking at the shirt before glancing up quickly to Bakura's face. Bakura kept his eyes on the corner of the room, his usual smirk gone.

Marik took from Bakura's hand, mumbling his thanks as he flung it over his head. Bakura watched as Marik fixed the loose t-shirt to carefully cover the scars on his back. The albino shoved his hands in his pocket as he sighed, taking a step back. What do I do now? Bakura wasn't sure if leaving the room would make things work. He was pretty sure staying here would only increase Marik's discomfort. He watched as Marik sat down on the edge of the bed. Marik continued to hug himself as he leaned forward, barely sitting on the bed.

"I used to think it was my fault." Bakura blinked, surprised to hear Marik talking to him. He looked over to watch Marik, who didn't meet his eyes but instead focused on the floor in front of him. Bakura thought of Marik's words, wondering why Marik felt the need to explain or talk about this. Was it for closure? To explain? Was he afraid that Bakura was judging him? Bakura saw a shudder run through Marik's frame, his breathing increasing as he fought back his own tears. Bakura carefully watched before finally speaking. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's okay."

Marik looked up at Bakura for a moment, confusion on his face. Bakura sighed as looked to stare at the wall for the moment. "I appreciate you telling me, but you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He felt Marik's eyes on him, Bakura unsure how to react under the youth's gaze. Finally he felt Marik return to stare at the floor. "I know, but… I want to. I-I need to. I haven't talked to anyone about this and I feel like I'm going to explode if I keep it all in." Bakura turned back to watch Marik, his face sad and frightened, but there was a resignation in his voice that prevented Bakura from leaving to spare Marik's feelings. If Marik needed this, then so be it. He would be there to listen then.

"You know…" Marik started, swallowing for a moment before continuing. "You know when you were little, you would get in trouble and wouldn't understand really why. Or growing up, when something goes wrong, you feel like it's your fault even if it isn't?" Marik dipped his head a little lower, his eyebrows furrowing. "I always felt like that growing up. I didn't understand why my dad was always angry. I didn't understand what I had done wrong to deserve this kind of treatment. Ishizu and Odion would tell me 'it's not your fault' but I still felt like it was. I felt like I had to have done something because my father wouldn't be so cruel otherwise."

Bakura watched as Marik clenched his eyes shut, the young man inhaling a shaky breath. Bakura took a slow step before cautiously sitting down next to Marik, careful not to touch him. He remained silent as he waited for Marik to compose himself. "It was my eleventh birthday when my dad called me down. Said he had something to give me. And this," Marik raised one hand to touch the base of his neck, gesturing to the scars that ravaged his back. "This… is the birthday present my father gave me."

Bakura watched as Marik lowered his hands and clenched them together. "After that, I realized it wasn't my fault. But I didn't know whose it was. I mean… I know it's my father's fault, but why… why do I still feel guilt? I don't know why my father would hurt us. Why did Ishizu leave me with father? I know she struggled, but what about me and Odion? Was there something I should've done? I don't know what I could've done differently. Why do I still feel this way? I know it's not my fault. Why did this happen? Why did he hurt me? I don't understand!"

The words rushed out of Marik's mouth as the tears that caught in Marik's eyes finally started to fall. Marik, who was already curled into himself, crumpled even more, his body shaking. Bakura held his breath, unsure how to comfort Marik. He wasn't particularly good at expressing sympathy and Bakura was a complete novice when dealing with crying. He didn't want to touch Marik if he felt hurt and wary, feeling like such an action could be very unwelcomed. Bakura really felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Despite his own discomfort, he knew he couldn't do nothing. He had to do something.

Bakura thought for a moment before sighing, looking over at Marik. "You don't understand because it doesn't make sense." Bakura listened, as Marik's crying got softer, his hand going to clean up his face as he glanced over. "What?" Bakura placed his arms on the bed as he leaned back slightly, closing his eyes. "You want to make sense of the violence and pain you've endured. I'm saying that you can't make sense of it. It doesn't make sense that terrorists hurt innocent people. It doesn't make sense a nice family gets killed in a car crash. It doesn't make sense when bad things happen to good people."

Bakura sighed softly before opening his eyes to stare at the floor. "And it doesn't make sense that a father would take a knife to his own child's back. And it never will make sense. But just because you don't understand why doesn't make it your fault." Bakura didn't look over but listened as Marik stopped crying, taking some deep breaths. He wasn't sure if what he said helped or not, but Marik was starting to calm down. He took that as a good sign. He glanced over as Marik quickly wiped the last of his tears from his face, now looking more embarrassed than distraught.

"You know, when I got older, I figured I'd learn to get over this somehow." Marik shrugged as he leaned forward, sniffing slightly. "Not get over, but overcome my fear and not jump anytime touched my back. I figured I would grow up. And in a lot of ways, I do feel like I've come a long way. I used to be really shy and wary of people. But Odion kept pushing me to go out with him and do stuff. I think he knew he couldn't just leave me alone in the world as I was. He still wanted to protect me. But he helped me get out of my comfort zone."

Bakura saw that Marik tried to smile, but it was weak, as if the memory was happy, but the pain he was experiencing at the moment was too real. Marik closed his eyes, the smile quickly fading from his face. "But then, something will brush up against my back and suddenly, I'm eleven-years-old again, locked in a room with my father and a knife. It's like… it's like I can't get over my fear." Marik sighed as he leaned forward, his eyes registering the defeat and frustration he felt as his own weakness.

The two sat next to each other in silence, each in their own thoughts. Bakura thought over what Marik said, not sure how to approach this. This entire situation was something completely outside of his element on so many levels, but here he was. Bakura wanted to say something to assuage Marik's worries or lend support but really had no clue how to do so. But then again, Bakura had been thrown into many situations recently that he was not prepared for and got through. He needed to see this one through as well.

"I can't ever really know what you're experiencing." Bakura started, not really sure where he was going, but he had already started speaking so he had to commit. "I know your life has been hard in ways that I can't possibly understand. And I can't make that go away. But I can be here. Not that it'll fix anything. I mean, I'm not trying to fix you or anything." Bakura felt himself grow nervous as he tried to gather his thoughts, aware of Marik's curious gaze on him. Bakura sighed as he closed his eyes, avoiding eye contact. "I can't make the bad shit go away, but I'll be here to get through it with you is what I'm trying to say."

He didn't hear Marik say anything, as Bakura fought off a blush growing on his face. Shit. Why am I so bad at this? Bakura's hands tightened on the bedspread to hide his growing worry that he made things worse. After a few moments, he heard a soft noise resembling a chuckle. Bakura blinked his eyes open to see Marik looking decidedly less sad and more peaceful. There was even a small smile growing on Marik's face. "Thanks. You r-… I mean, it's-… thanks, Bakura." Marik smiled for a moment before turning away from Bakura to stare at the wall.

Bakura watched for a moment before letting out a small exhale. Apparently he hadn't screwed up as badly as he initially thought. He guessed Marik understood his intent, despite the botched delivery. That Bakura sincerely wanted to be there for Marik in whatever what he could. Bakura looked over at Marik, who was hunched over his legs lost in thought. Bakura didn't trust himself to use his words, as Ryou liked to put, and try consoling or encouraging Marik. He instead reached over and placed a hand on Marik's shoulder to give a reassuring rub.

The reaction was instantaneous. Marik, who was already tense, stiffened up as his head jerked up. His head snapped around as he stared at Bakura with confused and alarmed eyes. The albino realized the incredible stupidity of his action, his hand now hovering over Marik's shoulder. What he had meant as a comforting gesture, one to offer support without words, was the worst thing Bakura could do after this discovery. He knew about the scars. He knew why Marik was afraid to be touched on his back, and yet Bakura stupidly did the very thing that would damage Marik's trust in him.

Damn it! I keep fucking everything up!

Bakura gathered his senses enough as he stood abruptly. He turned away, not wanting to see the hurt in Marik's face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I- I'll leave." He stuttered out, feeling terrible for his actions. Even when he tries to be nice, he can't get it right. Just after Marik was open and vulnerable with him, Bakura just had to be stupidly callous and not think through his actions. Why am I so bad at this? Bakura sighed as he started to walk to the door.

"W-Wait!" Bakura's entire body tensed as he felt Marik grab his hand, holding him back from leaving. Bakura stopped in his tracks as he turned to face Marik, unable to hide the disbelief he felt. He could see from Marik's eyes that he was also surprised by his own action. Yet despite the unsure and shocked expression on Marik's face, the grip on Bakura's hand was firm. Bakura didn't say anything, watching Marik with curious maroon eyes. Marik bit his lip, thinking for a moment as to what he would say.

"It's-" Marik swallowed before continuing. "It's okay. I don't mind. I mean, I guess I do, but I know I don't have to. Be afraid, that is. I don't know how to say it, but… when I'm with you, I know I don't have to be afraid. But I have to remind myself of that." Marik gestured to his back, an odd blush growing on his face as he mumbled the words. Bakura paused, thinking over what Marik was saying. Marik was saying that he didn't mind Bakura touching his back. Did he really trust Bakura that much? Evidence pointed otherwise – Marik would always freeze up whenever Bakura touched his back. Marik always did – he couldn't help his fear. Bakura didn't blame him.

But Marik wants to allow other people to touch his back. He wants to move past his fear. Bakura watched as Marik stared at the floor to avoid Bakura's gaze. He knew that Marik probably felt stressed every time something brushed up against his back. Marik told him that he wanted to move on from this and wanted to overcome his fear. That wouldn't be easy in any regard because it would force Marik to face said fear. Was he suggesting that Bakura would be the one that could help him in that regard? Bakura wasn't really sure what he could. He told Marik he would be there to help through whatever. Well, I guess this qualifies. But how can I help?

Bakura watched Marik for another moment in silence, thinking about Marik's words and what he could do to help Marik. Odd how Bakura thought he was flubbing through this entire situation and now here he was, wondering what he was to do next, miraculously not having screwed everything up yet. He studied Marik for a moment, realizing that the young man had let go of his hand. He looked down at his free hand for a moment before glancing up at Marik. He still wasn't looking at Bakura but rubbing his hand nervously on the edge of his shirt.

Bakura knew this was probably another bad idea, but he went with his gut regardless. He reached out, grabbing Marik by the shoulder. Marik had no time to react as Bakura pulled the youth in close, embracing him. He felt the reaction immediately as Marik stiffened up. Bakura continued to hold Marik close, hugging him as one hand gently rubbed his shoulder blade. The albino was careful to not let the shirt slide, keeping the fabric in place as he brushed his finger pads across the cotton shirts. He could feel the textured skin that laid underneath as Bakura held Marik a little tighter.

Marik stayed like a statue beneath his hold, rigid and stiff. Bakura could feel the Marik's shallow breath coming in quick waves against his neck. Bakura continued to gently rub the back of Marik's shoulder, suddenly worried that this was a bad idea. Before Bakura could think of letting go, he felt Marik slowly move, his arms gradually wrapping around Bakura's waist. Bakura blinked as he felt Marik loosening up, becoming less rigid as he slowly grew accustomed to the hug.

Bakura felt the hands around his waist tighten as Marik returned the hug. The young man buried his face into Bakura's shoulder, much to the thief's surprise. Bakura tighten his hold slightly, enjoying the warmth shared as their bodies held close. Part of him was vaguely aware of how unlike them this was for the both of them. Bakura wasn't a cuddly person and Marik had spent the later half of his life avoiding this sort of contact. And yet, Bakura never realized how whole one could feel as he embraced Marik. It felt as if something had been missing and now he felt complete.

Bakura felt Marik's hands loosen at his waist, cueing to Bakura to let Marik go. They both stepped back, Marik's arms falling to his sides. Bakura moved his hands from Marik's back and let them rest by his elbows, suddenly aware of the close proximity their faces were. Bakura blinked, resisting the urge to look away as Marik's lavender eyes locked with his own dark brown eyes. He felt his pulse racing as he felt Marik's breath breaking on his face. They were only inches apart as Bakura felt his mind freeze.

This is it. I need to tell him. Now. Do it. Fucking do it. Bakura tried to think of the words he had practiced in the apartment a few hours back. How should he tell him? He didn't want to exactly blurt it out, but with Marik so close, he was struggling to resist that urge to just yell it at him. No. He shouldn't yell. Yelling would be bad. It's like Ryou said – he needed to use his words and express himself. Bakura closed his eyes, gathering the words in his head. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and to not chicken out. Just be formal and polite. He didn't need to pressure Marik. Just remain calm an-

All thought and reason disappeared from Bakura's head as he felt a pair of lips press against his own. He opened his eyes to stare at Marik's closed eyelids. Bakura wasn't sure what he was expecting, but a kiss was definitely not it. He found himself unresponsive to the gentle pressure against his lips, soft and gentle against his own tensed pair. Bakura found himself holding his breath, frozen as the two of them stood there with their lips touching. It lasted only a few seconds and then, it was over as Marik pulled away.

Bakura remembered to breathe again as he stared at Marik, a dumbfounded look remaining on his face. Marik's eyes finally fluttered open, avoiding Bakura's gaze for a moment before glancing up. There was something cautious and nervous in that glimpse, a light blush growing on the bridge of Marik's nose. Bakura watched Marik, his lips slightly parted as he caught his breath. Marik opened his mouth as if to speak before ducking his head down, almost as if thinking. He looked like he was trying to find words to say. Bakura, too, was feeling rather speechless. Both men stood staring at each other, trying to find something to say. After a moment of silence, Bakura finally realized what needed to be said.

Nothing.

Bakura smirked at Marik. He raised his hand to tilt Marik's head back up, confusion lit across Marik's face. He pressed their lips together, finally doing what his body had been screaming to do for weeks now. He felt Marik stiffen in shock at first before melting into the kiss. Bakura closed his eyes as he felt a heady sensation as the two kissed, now that Bakura wasn't standing stiff like statue. He was vaguely aware of Marik's hands rising up to rest on his chest, his own free hand resting at Marik's hips. The kiss stayed soft and sweet, neither men feeling the need to rush the moment.

After a few seconds, Bakura pulled away to look at Marik, smirking as the flushed complexion on Marik's face. His lilac-colored eyes flicked open to look at Bakura, a smile growing on his face. He chuckled, unable to hold back the burst of delight he felt. Bakura pulled Marik into another hug, which Marik more willingly returned. Bakura took a deep breath, the soft scent of Marik's musk filling his nostrils. In that moment, it felt like a huge weight had finally been lifted from Bakura.

Ryou had told Bakura that he needed to be direct and upfront with Marik with his feelings. That if he wanted to get anywhere, it was easier to just say it. And Bakura knew that his brother was right. There were times when you needed to say something out loud. Sometimes, you did have to spell it out. But he also knew that sometimes you didn't need to say it out loud. Sometimes, the words didn't need to be said. As Bakura held Marik, he knew that he didn't need to say anything. He didn't have to.

He just knew.