Bakura stood in the open doorway gazing at the seemingly troubled face of Marik as he laid spread out on the mat that served as his bed. Using all his skills as Egypt's most successful thief, he quietly moved into the room. Lowering himself onto the floor beside Marik he reached out with one hand and stroked the skin of Marik's cheek, he had always wanted to touch Marik on his terms instead of the sudden embrace they had shared six years ago. Marik didn't budge and for a brief moment, his untouchable sex god seemed almost human and in his reach. Bakura ran his hand down Marik's neck and along his chest pleased with the warm, smooth but firm, faultless skin his sleeping companion had; he wanted more.
As his hand eagerly made it's way towards it's objective he realised it wasn't going to be. Mariks hand suddenly seized his wrist and the next thing he knew his taller companion had him pinned beneath his body. Bakura glared up at Marik, and at the same time he cursed the gods for never letting him have his fun. A minute passed, maybe two but Marik neither said nor did anything; Bakura realised he was at his mercy again. Agitatedly he glared up at Marik sick with this mans always in control attitude, however Marik though his eyes were staring at him, didn't seem to be there, it was like his soul was somewhere else and his body an empty shell.
Bakura tried to free himself however achieved nothing but bringing Marik's mind back from wherever it had been.
"You came here for a reason," Marik stated standing up off Bakrua's body before moving to sit against one of the walls that encased the room; ignoring the glare Bakuragave him.
"I need to borrow you, well more so your talent, for a short while," Bakura stated, as he stood up walking towards Marik until he was standing before him looking down at the usually taller man. Marik looked up at him a malicious look about his face, a look Bakura couldn't tell if it meant good or bad for him.
He found out soon enough. One step too close and in a flash Marik was standing before him, then behind him. Bakura felt his back shoved roughly against the solid wall of the room, his hands, captured by one of Mariks, were held firmly above his head. Meanwhile Marik's free hand held one of his hidden daggers, the blade of which was beginning to trail softly along his bare chest sending a shiver of adrenalin along his body as it slightly sliced through his skin. Bakura ignored the building urge to try and revers the situation and moved on to trying to convince Marik – who was in the position to easily run him through with the blade he possessed – to help him.
"I've found a new pet I want, however his owner isn't exactly what you would call keen on selling him to me regardless of what I would have offered to pay for him," Bakura started, one eye watching Mariks face, the other try to keep an eye on the hand that held the blade. "I would do it myself but people are harder to steal than my usual objects considering they always seem to have the odd impression that they have the right to resist and protest," he added bitterly. However Marik still didn't seem to think anything about his request whether his thoughts were leaning towards helping him or not he couldn't tell. Then he remembered his last pet; Malik.
"So my last pet has caused us some problem, this one, he's different and for a start he looks nothing like you, but also he's a slave, there are no parents to be killed here; only abusive owners," Bakura smirked, feeling Mariks grip on his hands loosen before he watched Marik push himself off of the wall.
"I guess I'll take that as you're agreeing to help me," Bakura muttered, standing up properly as he watched Marik pick up his hooded cloak and one of his swords.
Bakura smirked before turning around and walking out the door, he was eager to get his hands on his new pet and forget about Marik who seemingly no matter what remained out of his reach.