A/N: Sorry for the late upload! I'm currently working on (passing school) writing a story for the Young Justice fandom. If you're into that show, please check it out! It's my newest obsession. But aside from that, Thiefshipping will always be my favorite ship, no matter how many times I retire from fanfiction ;)

Disclaimer: There's a guy. Or a girl. I'm actually not sure. But they own everything, and I am quite certain that they are not me.

I remember going into my senior year of high school and realizing that Bakura wouldn't be there anymore.

The perils of dating an upperclassman.

We had become increasingly well known as the resident mischief makers at our school.

While Bakura was still terrible at actually dating, he was very good at making it known that we were, in fact, a thing.

And I wasn't just Bakura's little bitch, either. We were…partners. I would even have people come up to me and say that they admired our blatant relationship.

I would always tell them it helped to have a boyfriend that scared the crap out of most people.

And of course there was Ryuji, Mariku, and Ryou. None of them could compare to Bakura, but it would be a lie to say I didn't think highly of all three.

After me and Bakura began 'really dating' (I still don't know what exactly we were doing before) they initiated me into what they called 'the fruitloops'. Something Ryuji came up with when he was drunk off his rocker apparently.

Whatever.

It was good to feel like I belonged for the first time.

It hadn't really sunken in that Bakura would be graduating.

I mean, I knew I wouldn't see him at school anymore, but that was hardly a big deal. We spent more time together after school anyways. In-school was more about presenting an image.

I just didn't realize that school wasn't going to be the only thing that would change after he graduated.

In retrospect it should have been obvious but things are often much clearer when you're looking back.

"Right after school today, meet me at my car."

That was Bakura's way of asking me out. That was fine by me. He 'asked me out' nearly every day. I was only too happy that he didn't specify a place. That usually meant it was going to be a, ah, sensual date.

As usual, I showed up where he requested after school. He was a bit unusually quiet on the way to…wherever, but I didn't get concerned, yet.

It was when we arrived at the rusted out old garage he usually went to but didn't make a move to get out that I started feeling worried.

"Bakura…?"

"Come on. There's someone I want you to meet."

"You know this place gives me the creeps."

"We don't have to stay long if you don't want to."

Well, that was somewhat comforting. Bakura's 'garage' was mangy looking at best, and if that wasn't enough to turn you off, than try the fact that Bakura didn't get to be himself around places like this.

Here, he was just the Thief King. The guy in a ratty old school uniform, aviators, and white hair that made you feel as though you were talking to a ghost.

People who only knew him as the Thief King weren't too fond of him bringing along guests. That meant me.

To say I didn't enjoy being stared at like an expired piece of meat didn't quite cover it.

Still, he seemed intent on being here, so I'd just have to suck it up. As we got out, I noticed that he'd left his sunglasses behind.

"You forgot your aviators."

"Don't need them for this."

And so the mystery thickened. We entered the garage, letting the door swing shut behind us with an ominous creek.

The light flicked on overhead, though neither Bakura nor I made a move to do so.

This was definitely starting to feel like the start of a bad horror movie.

A rustling accompanied by gentle clangs accented the still air within the garage, and I spotted the legs poking out from beneath a raised car. Whoever it was was hidden beneath the vehicle.

How convenient for our mock-horror story.

Bakura stared at the protruding legs, analyzing them for a moment before saying:

"It is I, your prodigal son, humbly returning in search of your forgiveness and blessing."

I jerked back, earning a raised eyebrow from Bakura. I don't know how he expected me to react.

While that was, indeed, what he had said, that's not how it sounded. He'd said it in fluent Arabic, albeit with a terrible accent, but grammatically sound, as though he spoke it as naturally as Japanese.

"Welcome home, my son. Shall I throw you a feast?"

The voice came, echoing eerily from beneath the car. It was a deep, knowledgeable voice, rich with worldly experience. And while this was also said in Arabic (my first language), this time the accent was perfect.

Since moving to Japan, I had only met one other person, outside my sister and I, that knew even conversational Arabic, and that was Mariku. Unlike me, he didn't have someone to converse with at home, so he'd lost much of his original tongue.

It seemed too coincidental that this stranger Bakura was meeting with also happened to speak Arabic, and now suddenly Bakura did too!

"Only if it's a vegetarian feast. Unless I'm not invited?"

Bakura whipped about this time to give me a glare that, while fierce, was just his way of masking confusion. I tried to hide my smug satisfaction, enjoying the way my perfect accent accentuated the Arabic words in a way his did not.

Though I had left my homeland at a young age, my Egyptian heritage had always been of great importance to me. Arabic was a language I could speak with my family members that almost no one else here would understand or be able to eavesdrop on.

"He got you there."

This time, the voice was speaking Japanese. The accent still hinted longingly at my favoured Arabic tongue. It made me even more curious about this hidden man. He must be Egyptian if his voice was still accented even after switching languages.

"So you speak the tongue?"

Arabic again. Definitely directed at me. I could tell from the way Bakura was staring at me intensely, waiting for me to respond. Waiting for me to mess up, maybe.

"No."

A chuckle came echoing out from beneath the car, where the man was just rolling himself out from underneath. He made no comment on my sarcastic response, but when he glanced over me, it was with a more affectionate eye, I thought, than he might have.

"So you decided to show up after all. It's good to see you Bakura."

"And you…Akefia-sama."

I jolted slightly, once again surprised. That name…Akefia. I knew it. That night Bakura and I had first met in the middle of his attempted (successful) robbery at the jewellery store.

It had been Mariku that was supposed to be helping him with the heist (as confirmed by Mariku later) and though he claimed it was so later, it wasn't Mariku that Bakura had called me upon seeing me out of the corner of his eye.

It was Akefia.

Bakura had mistaken me for this man the first time we met, but then denied his existence and never again mentioned him.

Akefia…

"Don't bother with the formalities. From what I've heard you've picked up my mantle pretty well, oh great Thief King-sama."

From the side of the room, he came striding forward, tall and looming, giving a mock bow to Bakura.

He was broad shouldered, rippling with muscle from head to toe, and a deep, delicious shade of brown.

Despite his fairly young facial features, his hair was a grey color. Most noticeably even beyond that, was the scar running down the side of his face. It was both striking and dark.

It spoke of a man who did things that the surface world would frown on.

If I was forced to admit it, I would say that I felt intimidated by him. He was smiling, mauve eyes all but sparkling and I still felt certain he could kill me in a second if he decided to.

Bakura didn't seem to be having that problem. He sized himself up to the other man without flinching, face so still it could have been carved from marble.

"So this is the guy, eh? You said he was pretty but…you didn't say this pretty."

"I guess I just didn't want you making any plans to steal him from me."

The man, Akefia, let out a bellowing laugh which was so startling and out of character for his dark appearance, that I hardly knew how to react.

It was only second to that that I realized they were, of course, talking about me.

The laughter settled, drying into a low chuckle in the man's chest as he appraised the two of us cheerfully.

"You've hardly changed at all, kid. I still like your spunk. And you still know your place. Ah, it's good to see things haven't gone to waste. But just remember, this life isn't a permanent one. Just the first of many."

"I know, Akefia."

Something flashed in the older man's eyes, a glint that I wouldn't classify as dangerous, but certainly cunning.

He tilted his head at Bakura quizzically, almost innocently. I was starting to think he was a bit deranged. What did he even mean the first of many lives?

"Maybe you have changed. There was a time when you wouldn't have dared to refer to me as just Akefia."

"That's how you told me to refer to you. It's just as well. I'm not used to calling anyone by the sama title anymore. That is how people call me now."

"And that's the way it should be. But don't get too used to it. That's just as dangerous as letting it become permanent."

"…I guess so."

"You'll understand."

"I'm sure. I'm always just a couple steps behind you."

"Then I'm at least ten steps behind both of you."

They both swung to look at me, breaking their intense (somewhat crazy) exchange. It was almost as though they had forgotten I was there.

Akefia's face split into a crazy grin, and I figured I had somehow gained his approval. Great, I had the approval of a crazy man.

That's exactly what I wanted when I agreed to today's 'date'.

"I'm sorry, Marik-chan, we are sort of leaving you out, aren't we? I bet he hasn't even told you what you're doing here yet."

"I thought we were having a tea party. I didn't know we were inviting escapees from the local insane asylum. Do you take sugar or cream?"

"Always cream."

He made it sound like a sexual innuendo with his wicked grin and glinting eyes. The look made me uncomfortable.

Probably because he just seemed so pleased that I was talking back to him.

"He reminds me a lot of a younger you, Bakura."

"That's because he is young."

"Not too young though."

Despite the fact that I had still gotten no answers, I could sense that the confrontation was over. Bakura's body had relaxed minuscule from its rigid position, and even Akefia seemed a little less…on the edge.

With a short nod to both Bakura and I, he walked over to the door, putting his hand on the doorknob before glancing back at us.

"Your car is out front?"

"Yes. And what you promised?"

"As always. It's in the back. Try not to make too much of a mess."

With another deep throated laugh, he made his exit, leaving me even more confused than I had been before.

"What was he talking about, Bakura? What's in the back?"

"Come with me."

"Tell me what's going on first."

"It'll be clearer if you come with me."

"I don't care."

"You're being stubborn."

"You're being your usual mysterious self. Just give me the sparknotes version."

Bakura gave a sound of annoyance, folding his arms across his chest.

My heart skipped a beat despite my best efforts to be annoyed with him. He didn't know how gorgeous he always looked whenever he struck a pose like that.

Or maybe he did. It always got to me, regardless.

"Fine. Akefia was my mentor when I first got involved in the world of thievery. He was the best and he decided to take me in and teach me. It was the only way to provide for Ryou after our parents died."

His mouth quirked up slightly, and I shifted uncomfortably.

It was dark humour. His father hadn't actually died –as far as I knew he was still alive and out there somewhere. But he might as well have for the way he'd abandoned the twins after their mother's accident.

"Eventually, he decided to move cities and take his advice with him. I was to stay and be his…let's say, protégé. I picked up his former title, the Thief King, and continued his heists. He said he would return when I was finished my second life. He always referred to important things as 'lives'. To be a thief was one life. To go to school was another. To be with you…is another. I'm not sure if he ever intended to take me back after I finished school, but it doesn't matter, he won't now. He wanted to at least get a final say in the choices I'd made though. And at my request, he also managed to acquire something for me, in return for my car."

"You gave him your car? Must be some favour."

"I'm going to need a new one for what I'm planning anyways. And he needed the anonymity. Besides, I think you'll be more agreeable when you see what I traded it in for."

"Oh?"

"Just trust me. Or come see for yourself, if your highness is ready."

I snorted at his usual witticisms but followed him into the back.

I was still trying to process everything he'd just said. The most important being, of course, the implication that I was the reason his former mentor wouldn't take him back.

Something about me being his 'other life' or something crazy like that.

What it amounted to was that I was a distraction, and apparently one Bakura wasn't willing to be without.

The thought, admittedly, made me feel a bit giddy.

Times that by two when I stepped into the garage and saw a gleaming red motorcycle, every bit the match for the one I had seen when I was ten years old. Okay, so it probably wasn't its twin or anything, but it hardly mattered.

It was gorgeous.

"What…what is this?"

Bakura didn't answer, giving me a moment to run my dazed hands over its sleek, beautiful body. For someone who had never even owned a vehicle, this was practically more than my eyes could handle.

I turned back to face Bakura, still shocked at the obvious implications of the mysterious bike. He was staring back at me, calm and aloof as ever.

"Bakura, what is this?"

"It's yours. If you want it, that is."

I turned back to look at the bike one last time. It was a powerful, sensual machine, the type I had dreamed of driving my entire life (or at least since I was ten).

Beyond that, it had greater meaning to me than even Bakura probably knew. It was the sign of a new 'life' that I had begun. It was the moist poignant thing I remembered from the day I discovered I was gay.

In many ways, it symbolized, to me, at least, acceptance of who I was.

And Bakura was giving it to me.

He had given away his car so that he could give it to me.

Turning back around, I locked gazes with him again. His, dark and brooding, mine alive and burning with desire.

He immediately saw the change in me. It wasn't just my usual penchant for sex, it was more.

I wanted him, all of him, right here, and right now.

It was a good thing there were no family rules prohibiting having sex on the floor of a shady, run down garage, because there was no stopping us from getting it on right that second.

Rarely was I the dominant one (I recognized that it was important for Bakura to feel in control, for whatever reason) but today was an exception. It was all about showing my appreciation, and more than that.

I needed to move with him, to make him know that whatever he was sacrificing, it wasn't going to waste. I was worth it. We were worth it. Whatever he felt for me, I felt it, too.

In that moment, all I wanted was him and me forever.

The bike was pushed to the back of my mind, just a material gift. An impressive one at that, but it was what it said about us that mattered more. It was cheesy, but it was true.

Bakura didn't just give stuff away for no reason. He was a thief, and obviously more inclined to take than give.

Of course, the moment couldn't last forever. Too soon we were lying together on the garage floor over a blanket that Bakura (scheming as always) had placed temptingly nearby in advance.

I still held myself over him, watching him pant, sweet release taking its toll on our now exhausted bodies. It never lasted long, but softness came in these in between moments. Softness enough to bring words to my lips.

"I want you."

"I think we just established that fact."

He shot me a wolfish grin, the closest he came to congratulating me on a job well done. I wasn't interested in affirming my prowess in bed, however (though I might gloat a little bit about it later).

"I meant always. Me and you. Forever."

He sighed, not so much in relief or light heartedness, but as a man does when he has bad news.

My gut contracted, fearing what exactly it was that prompted that sigh. The after effects of our (really magnificent) sex might have brought out a softness in me to say what I normally would be afraid to but it didn't diminish the truth of the words.

I wanted him so badly. More than that, I wanted him to want me in the same way.

"I know."

"This isn't Star Wars, Bakura. There isn't a sequel. Just give me a straight answer for once."

"You won't like it."

"Then why all this? Why the bike and the…and the Akefia and the sex and everything? Why even bother?"

I found myself on my back quite abruptly, Bakura's naked body pressing me down onto the blanket with his fierce expression mere inches from my face.

I swallowed a little. I had to focus on what we were talking about. It was more important than any sexual desires at the moment.

Hopefully, there'd be time for that later.

"Because you need to understand. Things are going to change, Marik. I won't be in school next year. I won't be tied down to this city anymore. Things are going to take me away. But I'll come back for you."

"Is that a promise?"

He remained silent as he rolled off me. My hair shifted as I lay on my side, looking him straight in the eyes.

For the first time, I saw an expression outside of Bakura's usual repertoire. It was a tortured, silent expression of conflicting truth and desire.

It told me exactly what he couldn't bring himself to say out loud.

He couldn't promise me that he'd always come back.

He might promise that that's what he wanted, but there were no absolutes. He was living the life of a thief. And there were no guarantees in that.

As we lay on the garage floor, staring at one another in mutual pain of what was sure to be a stretched relationship at best, a horrible truth occurred to me.

I was still looking in his eyes, still hearing all the things he was too afraid to say. As much as I knew the truth about what the next year was going to be like, I also realized an even great truth.

I knew in that moment that I was completely in love with this bastard, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

A/N: Well...that was...angsty...waah, editing this chapter made me terribly sad T_T Poor Marik, I was so mean to him in this story! Hopefully next weeks chapter will be nicer to him. Also, what did you all think about the reveal of Akefia? Did you remember him being mentioned way back when Marik and Bakura first met? Were you surprised? Please tell me, I'm very curious! Hopefully you all enjoyed :)

Also I'd like to apologize for my lack of answering reviews! I will definitely try to do better with that this week, but I've just been so busy with school...I knew post-secondary was going to be a lot of work, but it's A LOT of work...*sigh* not nearly enough time to write anymore...T_T I do appreciate every single review though, and I really appreciate that you all take the time to leave them! *Heart*