Author's Note: The timing of the chapter is hysterically good since it's on Valentine's Day. Good job me.

Fun fact – Something most of my readers do not know is that I'm aromantic. I don't get crushes or have romantic inclinations. I like to read about romance or watch movies involving it, but I, myself don't have romantic feelings towards… well, anything.

This is to say that writing romance in this fanfic has been somewhat tricky in this regard.

However, I feel like I've done a bang-up job on the romance side of this fanfic (if you don't mind me tooting my own horn). I hope you guys like this chapter and I hope I explained well why I really don't feel like a lemon belongs in this story.

Enough rambling. Happy Valentine's all you romantic people. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. You don't care. Rated M. Moving on.

Thanks for reading! I update every Wednesday!

Bon appetite!

Bakura didn't want to admit it, but Ryou was right when he said he needed to take a break from plotting. Sitting in the apartment stressing about the mission would have done nothing but given the thief gray hairs (that is, if the albino could get gray hair). This walk gave Bakura the clarity and resolve on his course. He had passed the point of no return and he was committed to his decision. The fresh air brought everything in perspective and it was exactly what he had needed.

But now, Bakura was fucking freezing and needed to get out of the cold.

Bakura sighed heavily as he looked around, trying to reorient himself as he figured out a course to home. He hadn't realized it, but Bakura had wandered quite away during his wandering in both the town and in thought. Bakura realized almost wryly that Marik's apartment was not too far from here. He knew he should avoid visiting – it would make his already confusing thoughts even more so. Sure he had committed to his path, but he didn't need any reason to doubt why he chose this course.

The wind picked up again, his white hair tossed wildly by the wind. Bakura tightened his coat around himself. Despite knowing it would likely be a bad idea given his confused and vulnerable state, the temptation of a warm apartment and a very attractive boyfriend ended up winning over Bakura's mind. He rolled his eyes, almost embarrassed by his own shallow reasons for going over, but another gust of wind solidified the albino's decision. He sped up, the cold air now biting at his face.

Bakura spotted Marik's apartment complex, not wasting a second as he ran inside, jamming the 'up' button on the elevator as he impatiently waited for the ride up. As he got off on the floor, Bakura finally glanced down at his watch. It was almost midnight. He knew from texting Marik that he wouldn't be asleep yet. With classes still out and Marik being a night owl, he would likely be up for another hour. Marik had confessed to Bakura that he loved to stay up at night to paint. Bakura hadn't bothered to interrupt him when he painted at night, but there was a first everything.

Bakura fiddled around with his key as he let himself into the apartment. As he suspected, the living room was empty and he could hear light music coming from Marik's room. Bakura kicked off his shoes and walked over to Marik's door, pausing for a moment before knocking. He wasn't sure, but Bakura felt nervous. He suspected it had to do with the fact that the last time he barged into Marik's room, he had discovered a secret that Marik had wanted to remain secret.

Taking a deep breath, Bakura knocked. He heard the music turn down slightly before Marik flung the door open. It took him a second, the confusion on Marik's face revealing that he hadn't expected Bakura here. Bakura had to take a step back when Marik busted out laughing, leaning against the wall with a giant grin on his face. "The hell, Ishtar?" Bakura muttered, rather baffled by the sudden outburst. Marik shook his head, a large smile on his face. "You actually knocked? Holy shit, miracles do happen. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks!"

Bakura rolled his eyes, walking past Marik and making point to knock him back with his shoulder as he made his way into the room. Marik fought off some last sniggers as he closed the door behind him, evidently amused by Bakura's sudden manners. Last time I try being a decent person. Bakura sat down on Marik's bed, glancing around at the paints and brushed spread on top of bedside table. He raised an eyebrow as he glanced around, trying to find what Marik had been working on.

"So what brings you over here?" Bakura glanced up as he saw Marik standing in front of him, a curious look on his face. Bakura shrugged as he leaned back, avoiding Marik's gaze. "I couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind what with the mission and all. I decided to wander and I realized I was close by so I figured, why not? That a problem?" He heard Marik snort, as if not surprised by the answer. "Not at all. I'm glad you dropped by. And actually knocked. Jesus, that's one for the record books." Bakura rolled his eyes as he look around the room, deciding to ignore the jab. "What's the new project?"

Marik decided to drop his the teasing as he walked over to the closet, pulling out a painting and his sketchpad. The unfinished painting quickly grabbed Bakura's attention, as he stared at the expanse of black, red, and purple that scourged the paper. The shadows were heavy and the images were indistinct. Bakura wasn't sure if Marik was planning on adding any further detail to clarify by the image. The only thing of real clarity in the picture was the golden eye that was top and center of the painting. Bakura quickly recognized the eye as the symbol often found on the Millennium Items.

Bakura narrowed his eyes before glancing at Marik, who also had a pondering look on his face. "So… what's this about?" Bakura asked the rather open-ended question, deciding to let Marik choose how much he wanted to talk about. Marik took a deep breath before shrugging, laying down on the bed. "To be honest, I'm not really sure. I can't sleep either. I've been having nightmares lately and they all seem to be related to this case. So when I can't sleep, I find it easier to paint instead and figure it out from there."

Bakura looked down at Marik, who stared blankly at the ceiling, a rather tired look on his face. Bakura turned back at the shadowy picture. He wasn't much for superstition, but he supposed stealing ancient relics of a lost civilization would be enough to give anyone nightmares. The painting felt like a way to channel those night terrors into something less mystic and more concrete, something to be understood. Bakura stared at the demonic portrait, understanding the darkness and exhaustion that clouded over them for this mission.

Bakura turned back to Marik as he set the painting down, his hand brushing Marik's bang out of his face. "Doing okay there?" Marik's eyes fluttered shut as he let out a long sigh. "Yeah. Just tired of being tired all the damn time." Bakura smirked at the comment, understanding the sentiment. He took his hand back as he turned his attention to the sketchpad. Bakura brought his feet up as he sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping the book open. "What's new in here?"

Marik made a non-committal noise. "Not much. Just a few more sketches of people around town. But there is one near the end that I've been working on that I'm rather proud of." Bakura raised an eyebrow, his curiosity getting the better of him. He flipped to the back and turned the page to show the landscape. Marik had been experimenting with shading with other pictures, but this one interestingly enough lacked almost any shading. The light sketches seemed intentional, almost like a blank canvas. Bakura blinked as he recognized the scene.

"This is…" He felt Marik sit up and lean into him. "Yep. That's you. Do you like it?" Bakura stared at the page, a sight that was not so reminiscent of the scene that played out only an hour ago in the park. In the sketch stood a solitary figure across the snowy landscape. It was barren aside from a tree on this person. Bakura gaped slightly, as this figure stared back at him, dark eyes contrasting sharply to the pure white surrounding the figure. The sketch was of him, standing in the park on a snowy day.

Bakura was aware of the eyes watching his reaction. Not wanting to admit how betaken he was the drawing, he gave Marik a cocky grin. "Couldn't resist using such a sexy model like myself?" Marik rolled his eyes as he reached to snatch his sketchbook away. "Last time, I'll do that. Should've figured it would do nothing but boost your already massive ego." Bakura chuckled, extending the book out of Marik's reach. "So you're not denying that I'm sexy?"

Marik snorted, though he couldn't hide the blush growing on his face. "You're an asshole. Being an asshole is not sexy. Now hand it back."

"On the contrary. What you describe as being jerk is really me just being dangerous and edgy. After all, bad boys are very sexy."

"Please. You're hardly one of the bad boys."

"I'm an internationally famous criminal. I think that qualifies."

"You drink smoothies and watch Disney musicals with me. You're not dangerous and mysterious. Hell, I'm more of a bad boy than you."

"You've got to be shitting me."

"Bakura, have you looked at me? I just scream edgy and sex appeal."

"Marik, you're gayer than the Fourth of July."

"No I'm not!"

"Marik, you cried at the end of the movie musical Rent."

"Well excuse me for not being a heartless-"

"I walked in on you binge-watching 'Say Yes to the Dress.'"

"I was making fun of those ridiculous wedding dresses. It was ab-"

"And need I remind you that you get every morning to spend at least an hour applying your makeup?"

"THAT'S IMPORTANT!"

Bakura chuckled, deeply amused by his boyfriend's growing frustration. Marik was so easy to rile up. He turned to meet the fuming Egyptian who was now glaring at him. He smirked, waiting for Marik to decide how this would play out. Marik wore a rather indignant look on his face, as if contemplating to continue their verbal sparring or just sucker punch the pain in the ass. Bakura did not make his decision any easier with the cocky smirk that was still plastered on his face.

"… I give up. You're impossible to deal with." Marik finally conceded as he plopped face first onto the bed in an attempt to avoid talking to Bakura. The albino suspected that Marik was probably getting a headache from Bakura's antagonizing of the youth. Bakura laughed out loud. "What? Giving up so easily?" He heard an annoyed noise from the mound laying on the bed. "Yeah. It's pointless fighting with an asshole like you. I swear you get off on this shit."

Bakura chuckled, not denying the joy he got from tormenting his boyfriend. "You're no fun." Bakura muttered, laying down to stare at the ceiling next to Marik, holding up the sketch pad to stare the drawing. He heard Marik grumble something softly, but couldn't make out the words. The two laid there in silence, Marik's face still buried in the covers while Bakura stared up at the drawing, studying Marik's depiction of him. There was something rather humbling about having someone use him in their art.

"This is really good. The drawing, that is. It's… weird having you draw me. I thought I wouldn't like it, but I do." Bakura kept his eyes trained on the sheet of paper, avoiding the mop of golden hair next to him. Bakura sat up, leaning back with one arm as he continued to studied the drawing. After hearing no response from Marik, he finally decided to glance down. Marik had turned his face so that he could stare up at him, an interested look on his face.

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Well say something, you dork." Marik blinked a few times, almost as if breaking out of his stupor. Bakura half expected him to make some cheeky remark about his plight as an artist or something dramatic shit to get back at Bakura. He was surprised when he saw a smile break across Marik's face. "Thanks." Bakura blinked before returning the smile. Marik always seemed to know how to draw out that soft side of Bakura that was buried within.

Marik shrugged before glancing away, propping himself up on his elbows as he laid down on the bed. "I guess it doesn't hurt that the model in the drawing isn't bad too look at." Bakura's smile shifted into a smirk, glad that their sappy moment didn't linger too long. "Yeah. He's a damn attractive fellow. Almost as good looking at the artist that drew him." Marik rolled his eyes, an exasperated look on his face. "Oh shut up." He muttered under his breath, Bakura's smirk widening as his annoyance.

Bakura placed the notepad next to his as laid down next to Marik again, his hands clasped behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. He didn't realize how enjoyable doing nothing could be until he started dating Marik. Funny how that worked. He flicked his eyes over to Marik as he leaned over to stare down at the albino. Bakura raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything as he stared up into those lavender eyes. Marik had a small smile on his face as he leaned down to peck Bakura on the lips.

Bakura returned the kiss that lasted only a moment, a small smile growing on his face. "Any plans for this evening?" He murmured softly, Marik's face only inches away from his own. Marik smirked back, though Bakura caught a glint, almost like a shimmer in his eyes before he replied. "Nothing much. You?" Bakura shrugged, studying the soft, fine features of the face hovering over his own. "Just sleep probably. Not like there's anything to do here."

Marik snorted, rolling his eyes as he leaned in for another longer kiss. Bakura hummed lightly at the contact, enjoying the intimacy. Marik pulled away, a slightly bemused look on his face. "Like I said. You're an asshole." Bakura laughed out loud at that jab before reaching a hand to caress Marik's face, tracing his fingers along the side of his cheek. He enjoyed the sudden rush of red that flooded the tan visage above him. Bakura cupped Marik's face before pull him down for another kiss, the two taking their time as they relished the sensual connection.

Bakura closed his eyes, feeling Marik run a hand through his white locks. Bakura slipped his hand from Marik's face to his upper back, drawing him closer. Bakura twisted his torso as Marik leaned towards him, their chests now pressed together as they continued their leisurely ministrations. Bakura wasn't paying attention as his hand slipped down further to Marik's lower back, his eyes suddenly snapping open as he felt skin. Marik pulled away, almost as if shocked by the action as well. The pair locked eyes, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Bakura didn't say anything, but not yet moving his hand. He stared up into the confused face above him, letting Marik decided what to do. Marik studied Bakura, as if debating internally what he wanted, as if combatting his fear while still remaining on guard. After several long seconds, Marik sat up on the bed, leaning back as he sat on his knees. Quickly masking his own disappointment, Bakura sat up with Marik, trying to find the words to say to comfort or reassure Marik. He knew better than to pressure Marik on the issue and would rather Marik felt comfortable than lead him to regret something later on.

Before Bakura could find the words, he blinked as he stared at Marik, who was gripping the edges of his shirt. Marik closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before taking off his shirt. Bakura blinked, suddenly realizing he was staring at Marik, whose eyes remained averted. "Holy shit." Bakura blurted, suddenly smacking himself as he realized he said the words out loud. The sudden outburst finally brought Marik out of his discomfort, as he looked up, suddenly alarmed. "What?"

Bakura, now realizing why he had suddenly blurted out the words, ducked his head down in embarrassment, his face a fiery complexion. "Fuck… uh… it's nothing." Marik's worry quickly became suspicion as he studied the albino. "Bakura, what the hell is going on?" Bakura glanced up about to tell Marik not to worry, when he say the worry on his face. Bakura suddenly realized his comment could quickly be misconstrued and lead Marik to believe it to be relating to his insecurities.

I'm going to have to actually explain myself. Damn it. Bakura sighed as he glanced away, unable to hide his tomato-like complexion that burned across his face. "I… Well… I was taken back by… your build." The seconds of silence that followed after that statement felt like hours to Bakura. He hazard a glance at Marik, who seemed confused before realization finally dawn upon him. "Oh… this is the first time you're seeing me shirtless?"

Fighting off the blush, Bakura crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "I mean, I've seen you shirtless before, but I was focused on… other things at the time." Bakura was ready to crawl into a hole a die. He couldn't believe he had made such an idiotic comment. He didn't dare open his eyes as he heard Marik start laughing next to him. "You literally swore because you saw my body and realized how hot I was? That's the best thing that's happened to me all day." Bakura gritted his teeth, still refusing to look at Marik or else he would die of mortification.

"Oh shut up. As I recalled, you were gaping at me when you had me shirtless in your kitchen." Bakura blurted out, trying to save his dignity. Marik sniggered, unable to keep from laughing. "Sure, but I didn't actually say anything out loud. God, this is hilarious." Bakura heard Marik mutter those words, which started off another round of laughter. Bakura snapped his eyes open, uncrossing his arms as he reached the end of his rope.

Bakura's retort was quickly shut down as he felt arms wrap around his neck. He blinked as he finally processed that Marik was hugging him. "Thanks." He heard a soft voice right next to his ear. "Somehow, I never feel afraid or worried when I'm with you. You always know what to do or say. So… um, thanks." Bakura thought for a moment before relaxing into the hug, raising a hand to run his fingers through the silky hair. "Sure thing. Glad to help." He mumbled softly, closing his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Bakura raised his free hand and rested on Marik's back, feeling the scars beneath his finger pads. He felt Marik flinch involuntarily, his body stiffening. However, Marik said nothing as Bakura rested his hand on Marik's back. Bakura brought himself closer to Marik, kissing him on his cheek to help him relax. Bakura closed his eyes, the two of them not moving for a moment. Bakura didn't dare speak, not trusting his words and rather stunned that Marik trusted him in this way.

A few moments passed as Bakura decided to take a chance, gently rubbing his hand along Marik's back. He felt Marik freeze like a statue, but remain silent as Bakura explored tentatively across the surface. Bakura took his time, gently tracing and filling the gaps of the wounds, trying to gauge Marik's reaction. He didn't want to, for lack of a better term, scar Marik in doing this. He leaned back slightly, still not removing his hand from Marik's back so that he could see Marik's face.

He studied Marik, who seemed focused and concentrating on something unseen, his eyes averted downward. Bakura could see that his thoughts were conflicted and he was trying hard to fight the urge to run away or resist. Still gently rubbing his back, Bakura leaned forward and gently kissed Marik on the lips, drawing him away from the prison of his mind. The kiss was enough to pull Marik from his dark thoughts as he returned the kiss back, his body relaxing slightly.

Bakura's hand, which rested in Marik's hair, slipped down to the other's upper back. Bakura felt Marik's breath hitch slightly at the action, his body tensing up again. Bakura nuzzled Marik gently, whispering gently in a manner that Bakura didn't even know he was capable of. "Relax. It's okay. I promise." He murmured softly, his lips grazing Marik's. The frightened youth took a deep breath as he forced himself to relax, pressing his forehead against Bakura's.

Bakura sighed softly, his eyes fluttering shut as he held Marik close. He gently rubbed and massaged the textured skin across Marik's back, sensitive to Marik's reaction to each gesture. Bakura used his own hands to fill in the gaps and rivets in the skin, feeling an odd closeness and warmth towards the man in his arms. He felt arms tighten around his neck as Marik drew himself even closer, Bakura now resting chin on Marik's shoulder. They remained like that, unmoving as they reveled in each other's company.

Bakura wished that time would freeze for that moment. He knew it was stupid and cheesy and Marik would probably tease him eternally for that. But he didn't care. In that moment, holding Marik close as if keep from losing him was the only thing that grounded Bakura. He wanted to make this moment last. He was afraid that if he let go, then he might lose Marik. A desperation clung to Bakura as he in turn clung to Marik.

"Bakura? You're crushing me." The albino heard the soft voice, slightly strained from the pressure Bakura was unintentionally putting on Marik. He let go, leaning back as his hands dropped to his lap. He felt cold and empty having now separated from Marik. "Shit. Sorry 'bout that." Marik shrugged, though Bakura noticed how much more relaxed he seemed to be. Whether that was because he was more comfortable with Bakura touching his back or because he wasn't currently touching his back, Bakura wasn't sure.

The two sat in front of each other, not saying anything. Marik reached for Bakura's hand, holding it with both of his hands. Bakura didn't say anything but watched as Marik raised his hand to kiss. It felt like an odd gesture to Bakura, but at the same time, it wasn't unpleasant. Marik closed his eyes for a moment before glancing back up, almost as if in deep in thought. Bakura figured it couldn't hurt to find out what was on his mind. "What are you thinking about?"

Marik bit his lip, his brows furrowed as he thought. "I'm thinking about saying something to you, but I'm not sure if it's a good idea." Bakura shrugged, leaning back with his one free hand while the other remained clasped in Marik's hands. "And why wouldn't it be a good idea? What's the worst that could happen?" Marik snorted, rolling his eyes. "You laugh at me. Harass me. Be a jackass to me. You know – you being you." Bakura chuckled, a smirk growing on his face. "If you're worried about me being me, then why worry at all?"

Marik let out a loud sigh, glancing up to meet the maroon eyes that studied him. He glanced away for a moment, Bakura's curiosity growing more with each passing second. "Because what if I say it and you don't say it back?" Bakura blinked, his smirk disappearing as he realized what Marik was asking. Has my heartbeat always been this loud? Bakura stared ahead pasting Marik's shoulder, avoiding eye contact. "Well why don't you say it and find out?" Bakura flicked his eyes over to Marik, who narrowed his eyes and swallowed, a nervous look on his face.

Marik finally met his gaze and sat up straight as a determined look replaced the one of fear. It looked like Marik would take him up on his dare. "Fine. I will." Bakura smirked as his boyfriend's obstinacy. "Okay then." He murmured the words softly, resisting the urge to laugh. They were both idiots. This came as a relief to Bakura. He stared at the crown of Marik's head, the young man staring at Bakura's hand, which he clenched. The silence lingered for a moment before Bakura finally heard the words.

"I love you."

The words hung in the air between the two. Bakura had no idea how much wanted to hear that, how much he needed to hear Marik say that to him. His chest squeezed painfully as stared at the young man in front of him, who sat nervously, waiting for Bakura's reaction. Marik didn't move, remaining frozen as if praying that by remaining, he wouldn't get burned for his courage. Bakura let out a huff of air, finally deciding to spare Marik. He grabbed one of Marik's hand with both of his. Marik jerked his head up in surprise.

Bakura said nothing as he returned the gesture, raising the tan hand to leave a gentle kiss. He swallowed, now realizing how difficult and terrifying it is to say the words, even though he already knew that Marik loved him. He felt vulnerable and weak, even afraid to say the truth out loud. But Bakura knew that not only did he want to say it, but he needed to. He kept his eyes fixed on the hand he held, almost as if mirroring Marik from before. The words came as a soft murmur.

"I love you too."

Bakura wasn't sure if he was thankful for the silence that followed or if he dreaded it. The two sat awkwardly, Bakura feeling slightly embarrassed but also relieved at having finally said the words. He felt Marik shake slightly. Bakura glanced up, suddenly sputtering in confusion as he saw tears falling down Marik. Shit! How the fuck did I mess this up? Shitshitshitshitshit… Bakura quickly raised a hand to brush away the tears. He had dealt with many bizarre and unpredictable things when it came to Marik, but he never had to deal with him crying.

"Ah fuck. What's wrong?" Bakura mentally went over what had happened over the last couple of minutes. Did he say the words wrong? Bakura was pretty sure he had told Marik that he loved him. Why the frig was he reacting this way? Marik raised a hand to clean up the streaks of tears that marred his face, a light blush growing on his face. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just happy." Bakura paused for a moment, staring at Marik in confusion. A moment later, Bakura stared blushing madly, more embarrassed and annoyed than concerned.

"And that's why you're crying? Good god, you're a fucking train wreck." Bakura muttered, shaking his head in exasperation as he wiped the last remaining tears. Marik just chuckled, now more embarrassed by his outburst. "Oh shut up. Not all of us have the emotional capacity of a fucking rock." Bakura snorted, biting back a laugh. Like hell he was going to admit how close he had felt to breaking down and letting himself be completely vulnerable with Marik. Despite how much he loved to hound people, Marik could be just as bad, if not worse.

Marik ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he glanced around. "Okay. Now I'm actually tired. Can we go to bed?" Bakura nodded. "Yeah, let's do that. I'm getting pretty tired myself." Bakura tried to ignore the way his heart jump a beat when he heard Marik say 'we.' They had often teased about a sleepover, but that hadn't actually happened yet. Great. Now I'm acting like a teenage girl. Bakura shook the thought from his head. He knew what he was getting into when he came over at midnight to his boyfriend's apartment.

Marik got up to put his t-shirt back on. Bakura glanced down at his own clothes. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt – not the best-suited clothes for sleeping. "Got a pair of sweatpants I can borrow?" He asked, not really eager to sleep in denim. Marik nodded as he pointed to the dresser. Bakura rolled his eyes as he got up to grab a pair. He walked over to the bathroom, looking around for the spare toothbrush he had put there the past few weeks. I literally have become the girlfriend who moves half her shit into her boyfriend's apartment. What is my life?

Bakura returned to the bedroom, taking off his shirt as he came back. He wasn't entirely sure how this would work, but Bakura figured it was best to just make himself comfortable. Marik was already lying in bed, though his face revealing some untold anxiety. Bakura blinked, slightly puzzled by his expression. "Everything okay over there?" Bakura asked as he sat down next to Marik. Lavender eyes blinked up in confusion, but Marik still remained nervous. He glanced away for a moment. "So how's this happening?"

Bakura raised an eyebrow, not really sure what Marik was getting at. "Uh, I figured I'd take on side of the bed, you take the other. Try not to smack each other in the middle of the night. Don't wake the other up if we have to get up and pee. Do you need an instruction manual?" Marik shot Bakura a dirty look before glancing away, his face still slightly red under the light of his nightstand. "No, I mean… you know… are we going to…?"

Bakura suddenly realized what Marik was suggesting, his face now blanching. Oh. Boyfriend comes in the middle night and sleeps over. Duh. Bakura realized what this looked like to Marik. And part of him was tempted. Very tempted. He was sure he could probably talk Marik into it if he set his mind to it, but Bakura knew better than to do that. It had taken weeks for Marik to just let Bakura touch his back. It was best not to pressure Marik into doing something he wasn't ready for.

"Not tonight. You're still not very comfortable with skin-to-skin contact, right?" Marik glanced back at Bakura, scrutinizing the albino above him. "Well yeah, but… I mean, don't you want to?" Bakura left out a solid, loud laugh, a smirk returning to his face. "Well, hell yeah I do. But not until you're ready. I'd rather you be certain before going any further. Besides." Bakura yawned as he laid down next to Marik. "I wasn't kidding when I said I was tired."

Marik chuckled, a grin growing on his face. He leaned over to kiss Bakura briefly before reaching to turn off the light. Bakura couldn't really see anything in the dark as he turned over at his side. He caught the glint of gold from Marik's hair. Bakura stared at the back of Marik's head, debating what to do. The two were in a twin bed and there wasn't a lot of space to move around. Damn, this bed is too crowded. Bakura growled as he scooted closer to Marik, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him in close. Marik squirmed until his back was pressed up against Bakura's chest, the albino closing his eyes and hoping that Marik wouldn't say anything.

As per usual, Bakura wasn't so lucky. "God damnit Fluffy. I didn't know you were such a softie." Bakura growled in annoyance, ignoring the snigger coming from the body in front of him. "Oh shut up, Marik. I have a reputation to uphold." Bakura was sure Marik was rolling his eyes at him. Bakura found himself relaxing, sleep starting to steal him away from consciousness. "Good night, Kura." Bakura muttered something that resembled 'good night.' He felt himself fading into darkness, the familiar warmth and scent of Marik surrounding him as Bakura fell asleep.