Often times, on the weekends, Marik liked to relax by having a couple of beers in the evening. Bakura once asked him why he didn't drink anything harder. Marik explained that he couldn't legally buy liquor until he was 21, and anyway, spirits were incredibly expensive in Egypt.

The next Friday night, Bakura pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and slammed it down on the table. He'd gone out earlier and stolen it for Marik.

"Thanks," Marik had said awkwardly. But he appreciated it. The stuff really was costly, and he'd always wanted to try hard liquor.

Soon, they were sitting across the table from one another, Bakura smoking a cigarette, and Marik taking shots of whiskey. At first, when Marik slid a shot to Bakura's side of the table, Bakura professed that he'd just stolen the whiskey for Marik's sake, but at his constant urging, Bakura finally started taking shots too. Their decks lay in front of them, as usual, but so far, they were untouched.

The alcohol worked fast on Marik. He wasn't used to drinking anything so strong, and he had no idea of his limits. By the time he was on his fifth shot, he lost his train of thought, and couldn't even remember what he'd been talking to Bakura about. Something about his day at work? Some stupid coworker who had bitched at him for not moving fast enough? It had been something like that-

And that was nice, wasn't it? Usually, Marik didn't have anyone to talk to about these things. Sure, he could have talked to Rishid about his problems, but he felt as if he'd already put enough of a burden on Rishid in the past, and he knew that Rishid would worry and fret over him if he gave him the slightest inkling that anything was wrong. So he kept his mouth shut about his problems and pasted on a smile and talked about pleasant things whenever he visited his brother.

He had once tried to talk to Ishizu about his issues at work- and then she had scolded him and told him that he was lucky that he had a good, steady job, and lectured him about how the museum owners were very kind for allowing him this opportunity, and how his coworkers were perfectly nice people and it would just take them time to accept him, and besides, they had to deal with the same difficult work that he did.

Ishizu meant well, but she had always been more like a mother than a sister to him, and was prone to giving him "encouraging" speeches wherein she would explain to him that things weren't nearly as bad as he thought they were, and when he grew up, he would understand that, and then he would look back at his younger self and realize how silly his problems had been, and how great he'd really had it. It was the way almost all adults talked to teenagers, and none of them seemed to realize how very, very unhelpful it was. It was as if they had no memory at all of what it was like to be a teenager themselves, or as if they didn't believe that a young person could have any real problems. Of course, Ishizu knew that Marik had certainly had his share of real problems, but in her mind, that was all over now, and he should be grateful for the peaceful life he currently had. And the last thing he wanted was for Ishizu to think of him as some kind of ungrateful, immature brat. Whether she knew it or not, she was one of the only people who was actually on his side. So he had never mentioned his work problems- let alone any of his other problems- to her again.

Rishid and Ishizu were his siblings, and he loved them, but it wasn't the same as having friends. And now he had a friend. He had his only friend back- wasn't that what he'd wanted in the first place, on the day at the dig site that now seemed so long ago? Here was someone he could be honest with, someone he could be himself with, someone he could just relax and have fun with on a Friday night over a game of cards. He couldn't remember why he'd been getting angry and irritated with Bakura so often. Wouldn't anyone be happy to have their best friend as their roommate? And maybe this whole train of thought was just due to the alcohol, because he was feeling very happy and content and mellow, and he was feeling good about his housemate, and he sort of wanted to laugh, even though nothing was funny-

"Marik? You're staring." Bakura was looking at him questioningly, eyebrows raised.

Marik had a vague notion that he had, in fact, been staring- actually, he was pretty sure that he'd randomly ceased talking right in the middle of some speech about his job, and had just been looking dizzily at Bakura ever since.

Wait, he was still staring- he needed to answer Bakura's accusation.

"I- I am not!" It sounded too defensive, but it was all Marik's confused brain could come up with in that moment.

"Yes, you are," Bakura said calmly. "In fact, I remember that look- I got it a lot from you back in Battle City."

"Well- it's- it's-" Marik took a moment to think back, and then suddenly had an inspiration for a retort. "It's not as if you never stared at me! You looked at me exactly the same way back then!"

Marik had expected some kind of strong reaction to his claim, but Bakura seemed completely unperturbed.

"Yes, well, you were a bit more interesting to look at back then," was all Bakura said.

Wait- interesting to look at? Marik's eyes widened.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Marik.

"Look at the way you dress now," said Bakura with a sly smile. He looked like he was barely suppressing laughter. "I've been trapped in a Ring for most of the last 3,000 years, and even I know that outfit looks stupid. I mean, what is that thing you're wearing? Some kind of sleeveless motorcycle jacket? And a teal shirt underneath it? You look like a gay biker. Well, you are a gay biker, but still-"

"Hey!"

"Not that you ever dressed normally. A purple belly shirt was certainly an odd choice. But it made you a lot nicer to look at than you are right now."

"Oh, like you're one to talk about fashion," Marik grumbled. "You can steal any clothes you want, and you still just dress in jeans and a plain T-shirt every day."

"It's called dressing like a normal human male, Marik," Bakura said, still smiling.

And it was only then that what Bakura had said moments ago penetrated Marik's swimming, disoriented mind. Bakura had actually admitted that he liked looking at Marik back in Battle City. Suddenly Marik had no desire to continue a silly argument about their sartorial choices.

"So," Bakura suddenly said, snapping Marik out of his thoughts. "Are we going to duel tonight or not?"

"Oh, um, sure, I guess," said Marik.

They set up the duel and Marik idly watched as Bakura picked up his first card and placed a monster face-down in defense mode.

There was something fuzzy in the back of Marik's head, as though it was entirely filled with cotton. His thoughts were muddled. He could have said anything right now- done anything, even- and he wouldn't have been able to stop himself.

Bakura's face was flushed, too. Just slightly. His eyes were focused and warm brown, as though the alcohol had softened his face. Marik unconsciously licked his bottom lip as he watched.

He couldn't deny it to himself. Abstractly, in a way that he couldn't quite grasp or understand, he wanted Bakura. He wanted him completely, but not exactly in a romantic way. He'd never done anything remotely sexual with anyone in his entire life, but he could only imagine it: Bakura, undressed and flushed and kneeling in front of him...and...and doing what?

Marik's gaze landed on Bakura's lips.

Of course. Marik remembered his Rare Hunter days, when he'd had a person's mind in his grasp and twisted their body to his own purpose. Even now, he still hungered for control. This was a little different, though. He wanted Bakura to be willing. He wanted Bakura to readily kneel down, languorously unzip Marik's pants, and put his mouth around-

Bakura snapped his fingers suddenly. "Marik? Are you asleep? It's your turn."

Marik looked down and realized that nothing had happened since Bakura's first move. Still, he wasn't quite done with his daydream.

"You know, I'm getting kind of bored with this game," Marik said, trying to find the best way to pose his question. "Why don't we make this more interesting?"

"How, exactly?"

"I was thinking we should raise the stakes a little," Marik continued. "You know, make it more worthwhile for whoever wins."

Bakura eyed him carefully. "Okay. What did you have in mind?"

Marik smiled.

"How about the winner of this game gets a blowjob from the loser?"

Marik was met with complete silence. He fully expected Bakura to give him an incredulous look and say no outright. But Bakura's mouth slowly widened into a smile as his eyes gleamed.

"Alright," he said, smirking. "If that's what you want."

"Don't give me that look. You think you'll win?" Marik scoffed. "You're forgetting that I won the last game."

Bakura just continued smiling.

Marik had no fear of losing. He had proved himself last night, so the odds of winning were in his favor. As they began dueling, the image he'd created of Bakura rolled around his head over and over. He savored the imagined feeling of Bakura's warm tongue on his skin and trembled at the thought of Bakura's fingers digging into his hips. The craving nearly winded Marik, as he sat with his hands clenched tightly around his cards and waited.

Ten minutes later, Bakura drawled, "You lose 3,400 life points."

Marik nearly jumped out of his seat. "No way! That damned ladybug of yours only has 800 attack points and the witch only has 1,100! Your assailant has-" he paused as he tried to calculate the attack points of the Gravekeeper's Assailant, which had extra points because of the magic card Necrovalley. The numbers swam in his head. He was dizzy beyond belief.

"My assailant has 1,500, so altogether that makes 3,400," Bakura finished. "You have no monsters on the field and no counterattacks, so I can attack you directly. The math works out, Marik. Now sit back down and make your move."

"Fuck," was all Marik could reply.

Marik was now at 3,550 life points while Bakura had an incredible 8,200 because the Dancing Fairy had given him extra life points earlier. Marik picked up his next card and groaned. It was another Darkfire Soldier #1. Pitted against Bakura's three monsters, it hardly had an effect.

A few turns later, Marik was ready to tear his hair out. He tensely watched Bakura's every move, looking for a mistake in the calculations or the strategy, but he found none. His points fell steadily while Bakura's hardly dwindled. Once, Marik outright slammed his fist into the table after attacking Bakura's face-down monster and realizing that Gravekeeper's Spy had a higher defense than Marik's Darkfire Soldier, causing Marik to lose another 800 life points.

Finally, what seemed like a torturous amount of time later, Marik was at 1,750 life points while Bakura was at 7,900. Marik's jaw was clenched tightly, but he thought he could still turn it around. He had Hayabusa Knight and the Malevolent Nuzzler on the field, which afforded the Knight 1,700 attack points. Since Hayabusa Knight could attack twice in the same turn, Marik dared to smile at Bakura across the table.

"So what will you attack with?" Bakura asked, folding his arms.

"La Jinn," Marik replied. "I attack your Gravekeeper's Spy. Since my monster has 1,800 attack points and yours has 1,700 because of Necrovalley, you lose 100 life points," Marik finished smugly.

"Wrong," Bakura said.

"Why?"

Bakura flipped up the trap card Deal of Phantom. "This card lets me add an extra 100 attack points to the Gravekeeper's Spy for every monster in my graveyard."

Marik's smile fell.

"And I have seven," Bakura finished.

He placed Marik's La Jinn into the graveyard and deducted 600 life points from Marik's score sheet. Something broke through Marik's fuzzy, cotton-like thoughts. It was a strange combination of disappointment and dread.

"And since it's my turn now, I flip up my face-down defense monster, Gravekeeper's Guard, activating its flip effect. This lets me return the Mask of Darkness back to your hand," Bakura said. "And then I attack your Hayabusa Knight with my Gravekeeper's Spy, which now has 1,700 attack points. Since they have the same amount of attack points, they just destroy each other."

There were no monsters on Marik's side of the field and again, he had no counterattack, allowing Bakura to deliver the final blow.

"I attack you directly for 1,500 points with Gravekeeper's Guard."

Marik's heart nearly stopped at seeing the zero on his side of the score sheet.

"See?" Bakura smiled at him. "You only won last time because of luck."

Marik couldn't say anything for a moment. He stood up from the table slowly, walking around it in a complete daze.

"Where are you going?" Bakura asked. "Are you backing out of our bet?"

"I-" Marik started, feeling his tongue grow heavy. "I'll do it. I'm just really tired right now. And still really drunk. How about first thing in the morning?"

Bakura looked at him skeptically. Marik could tell that he didn't believe him.

"Fine," Bakura replied, breaking their gaze. "I'm counting on it."

When Marik went to bed that night, he crushed his face into his pillow, and growled into it as hard as he could. He didn't even care if Bakura heard him from the next room.

Well, he only had himself to blame, but he'd really fucked up this time.

Marik awoke with a pounding headache. The backs of his eyelids burned and his throat was parched. He tried to remember what had happened the previous night when everything suddenly came crashing back. The duel. The bet. The...well, Marik didn't exactly want to call it a failure, but 0 to 7,900 was a pretty bad loss.

When he walked into the kitchen, Bakura was already done with breakfast and throwing his dishes into the sink.

"Good morning, beautiful," Bakura teased, eyeing Marik's disheveled hair and the look of repugnance on his face.

Marik said nothing as he made himself breakfast. Bakura sat with him at the table the entire time, reading something he had found folded on the counter top.

After Marik was done, Bakura finally asked, "So? Are you still going to hold up the terms of our bet?"

Inwardly, Marik just thought the word dammit over and over again. He had half hoped that Bakura would forget the bet. Bakura had been pretty drunk too, but clearly neither of them had been smashed enough to forget.

Finally, he said, "Yes. I'll do it now."

It was awkward trying to figure out where to begin. Bakura sat on the couch in the living room while Marik just stood there for five minutes, fidgeting and looking at everything but Bakura's expectant face. Finally, Bakura just sighed and unzipped his own pants.

The sound of the zipper caused Marik to cringe. It wasn't as if he was completely adverse to the act. He was still willing to go through with it because firstly, he'd promised Bakura, and secondly- well, it wasn't like he didn't find Bakura attractive, at the very least.

Then, Bakura's boxers came down, and Marik averted his gaze after looking only for a second.

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods was the only thing running through Marik's head as he forced himself to look down. His heart thrummed as he imagined what he'd have to do with that.

"Well?" Bakura asked, after Marik had simply stared for another minute. "What are you waiting for?"

Marik looked away again before he could help himself.

"So, um, how exactly do I do this?" Marik asked.

"Well, you take my cock and then you put it in your mouth..."

"Ugh! I know that!" Marik rolled his eyes. "I mean...look, I don't know exactly how these things are supposed to go. I've never done anything like this before."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Never done it on a bet, or never done it at all?"

Marik flushed. "Never done it at all, alright?"

"What, and you think I have?" Bakura asked.

"Well, yeah."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "You do remember that I've spent the last 3000 years either stuck in a Ring or trying to get revenge, right? So I haven't really had time for this sort of thing." Less sarcastically, he added, "But now I finally get to live my life."

"So living your life consists of agreeing to bets on card games and having me suck your dick?" Marik folded his arms.

Bakura shrugged. "Well, you know, whatever works."

Marik glared at him.

Finally, Marik drew a deep breath. Just get it over with. Just get it done. He kneeled down to the floor, keeping his gaze on Bakura's face. A small smile played at the edges of Bakura's lips as he simply sat like a king waiting to be serviced.

Marik bit his lip, shifting his knees on the carpeted floor, and looked straight forward. His mouth went dry. He still felt the headache from his hangover. It pounded like a hammer inside his brain and made it difficult to focus on anything.

First things first. At least Bakura was hard already. Marik guessed it must have been from the anticipation. Though he couldn't imagine anything more apprehensive than the near heart-attack Marik was having now.

Marik lowered his head down. He carefully grasped the loopholes of Bakura's pants and got close enough that he could nearly feel the flesh on his lips. He heard Bakura shift, as though he was impatient with Marik being so slow.

Finally, he opened his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tentatively licked the tip of Bakura's cock. It felt soft and smooth and tasted just a little salty. Marik moved closer and tried to close his mouth around it. He found that difficult. While his lips were completely around the tip, he couldn't imagine swallowing it. It just...wouldn't fit inside his mouth if he tried.

Bakura was quiet, barely reacting to anything Marik did. Hoping to wrench a reaction out of him, Marik experimentally licked the entire tip. His fingers still tightly grasped Bakura's pants while his heart raced.

Bakura still did nothing. Marik would have at least expected a shortness of breath or some quiet huffing, but he heard nothing. He opened his eyes and stared at Bakura's face. Without asking, Marik gave him a look that said, Am I doing something wrong?

"Can you...take it deeper?" Bakura asked, looking down at him.

"Ughm," Marik tried to say. I can try.

He widened his mouth, feeling his jaw pop, and edged closer, slipping Bakura's dick further into his mouth. It slid inside slowly as Marik adjusted to what felt like a folded pair of socks filling his whole mouth. His tongue was pressed between the bottom of his teeth and Bakura's skin. He tried to maneuver it to lick along the smooth flesh.

It dawned on Marik that he would have better control of what he was doing if he grabbed the base of Bakura's cock, which he proceeded to do. Bakura shifted his hips when he felt Marik's hand wrap around him. Then, deciding that he would just experiment until he got something right, Marik started moving. He bobbed his head up and down slowly, while also pumping the skin at the base of Bakura's dick.

He got a better effect this time. Bakura's breath hitched.

Marik increased his tempo slowly. He did whatever felt right. He licked along the sides, sucked on the skin, stroked from the base up. At one point, he breathed on the tip, and to his delight, Bakura shuddered above him.

When one of Bakura's hands slipped into Marik's hair, he nearly jumped ten feet. But he took this as a good sign, and continued. He steadily increased the pace and tried to take it in deeper. The entire length was coated in Marik's saliva at this point, causing a slippery noise every time he moved and sucked. The sound, even to Marik's ears, was an incredible turn-on. He felt Bakura shift his hips and thrust into his mouth very imperceptibly, as though he was resisting completely fucking him.

"Can you-" Bakura started, "-move a little to the left?"

Marik would have smiled if he could. Bakura sounded out of breath. He obliged and gripped the base more tightly, sliding his tongue to the left of Bakura's cock. His knees started hurting and his mouth felt abnormally stretched, but Marik paid no heed to these things. He just hoped that Bakura was getting close.

Marik let himself go. He was going fast now and sucking anything he could get his mouth around. His tongue slipped and slid. The warm, sleek skin twitched once before Marik heard a small sound emerge from Bakura. It was a delicious blend of a groan and a sharp intake of breath.

And then, without warning, Marik felt something shoot into the back of his mouth. That must have been the...oh, it dawned on him quickly enough. He immediately dropped his hand from Bakura's cock and detached his mouth, backing up and spluttering as he stood up.

"Blegh," Marik muttered as he found the nearest trash can and spit into it. "You should have warned me."

"Didn't I?" Bakura asked. He was still sprawled over the couch with his head over the edge of the cushion and his face just barely rosy. Now that Marik was done with the whole thing, he found the sight of Bakura sprawled like that with his pants undone and his dick out incredibly amusing.

"No, you didn't." Marik spit into the trash again for good measure. He felt like the taste in his mouth would never leave him. "Unless you count that weird noise you made right at the end."

"Well, that was your warning," Bakura replied as he finally put his boxers on again and zipped up his pants. "Consider it a compliment that I even made that noise."

Marik took a deep breath. At least that was over with. But he wasn't done just yet- the whole reason he'd suggested this bet was because he wanted Bakura to give him a blowjob, not vice versa.

And he wasn't about to give up on that wish.

AN: And now you understand the title of the fic! Thanks for reading, please review!