It was Saturday. The crisp, cool night carried a hair-raising breeze to the nape of Bakura's neck, as the sound of traffic struck his eardrums and the bright streetlights burned his eyes. His gaze darted back and forth across the well-lit sidewalks as he finally made his pick.

A teenager, this time.

Broad-shouldered, with a duel disk wrapped snugly around his arm, the boy was distracted as he chatted animatedly with another duelist, and was therefore an easy target. Bakura casually made his way across the street, keeping his head down and his gait light. He couldn't catch what the two duelists were saying because the broad-shouldered one was laughing with such a booming voice, and the other was laughing with him. Taking advantage of the face that they were immersed in conversation, Bakura made the steal quick.

First, he bumped into the larger duelist.

Just slightly, enough to distract him as Bakura's hand dipped into and out of his coat pocket within seconds, and secured the token. He could just as well have come up empty-handed, but Bakura had based his choice on instinct and observation- he'd previously noticed the duelist's hand brush against his own coat pocket, as though ascertaining the item's existence. It made sense, then, that he'd had a token.

"Hey, watch it," the duelist shot at Bakura, his laugh stopping short.

"Sorry," Bakura said in the meekest voice he could muster, and continued moving, feigning the encounter as an accident.

The duelist turned back to his friend without another word to Bakura, continuing his conversation.

Bakura breathed a short sigh of relief, glad that the steal had gone seamlessly and that he now had another token to add to Marik's little collection, when suddenly, he heard behind him:

"Alright, I'll bet you one token, then, and we can get started."

It was that duelist's voice, and he must have just spoken to his friend. So that was it. The two were about to duel. Any second now, he would reach into his pocket and realize that his token was missing. He would remember that Bakura had brushed against him just seconds ago, and he would instantly put two and two together-

Before Bakura knew it, he'd broken into a run. His feet carried him down the sidewalk recklessly, instinctively. This was a bad idea. Suddenly sprinting like this under the bright street lights, especially right after making that steal-

"Stop!" he heard. "You! Stop right there!"

Bakura ran faster. His heart leapt up into his throat as he breathed sharp and fast. He rounded a street corner and made a beeline for the nearest enclosure he could find- the city park. The slap of his Converse shoes against the concrete was all he heard for a while as he ran through the park. The blood roared in his ears. He tried to keep up a fast running pace, but this body wasn't meant for strenuous exercise, and Bakura felt tired already. He slowed, catching his breath.

Out of nowhere, something rushed at him, knocking him violently to the ground.

"You thief," he heard a malicious growl.

Bakura could hardly breathe. He had been thrown down so suddenly and forcefully that his whole body was in shock, and his shoulder hurt like hell. He looked up and saw his attacker- just as he'd thought, it was the broad-shouldered duelist.

"I know you took my token, so I'd suggest that you hand it back now," the growl continued. "Unless you want me to beat the fuck out of you."

A cold shudder shook Bakura.

Not much on this earth frightened him, but he detested feeling defenseless. This body didn't have the physical strength to fight off someone as powerful as this duelist. This was why he needed the Millennium Ring on these heists, why he'd gotten so angry when Marik had withheld it from him. He needed the Ring's strength. He needed the power and blood fused into age-old gold. Without it, he felt a little less like himself. Without it, he was at the mercy of punks like these.

Well, Ring or not, he wasn't going to lie there and get beaten by this guy. Nor was he about to lose the token.

Before the duelist could react, Bakura swung one foot under his leg and tripped him, causing him to crash to the ground. In the duelist's momentary confusion, Bakura jumped to his feet, and tore out of the park as fast as his injured body would let him. He didn't look back to see if the duelist followed him.

Bakura weaved through the streets, taking a haphazard route through the city to get back to Marik's apartment so that the duelist wouldn't find him. After another ten minutes of running, he finally felt safe and slowed down.

His shoulder still hurt horribly. It wasn't a serious injury, but he was sure it would at least bruise, and he still felt winded as Marik's apartment finally came into view.

Well. Marik had at least better be happy with his token.

Bakura walked into the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Here's your fucking token," he said, pitching it in the general direction of the kitchen table where Marik was sitting.

The token would have bounced off onto the floor if Marik hadn't quickly reached out and caught it.

Marik looked up at Bakura. Bakura's face was twisted in a mixture of rage and pain, and he seemed to be out of breath. Marik noticed that Bakura's T-shirt was covered in smudges of dirt, and there was a small tear in it.

"What the hell happened to you?" asked Marik.

"Bastard chased me after I stole his token," Bakura said. He was breathing heavily. "Caught up to me and shoved me. I landed on my fucking shoulder. I managed to trip him up and then outrun him, but..."

"Are you sure you lost him?" asked Marik. "He didn't follow you back here?"

"I'm sure," said Bakura. He winced in pain as he tried to move his shoulder. "This whole thing is your fault, you know."

"How the hell is it my fault?"

"Because this wouldn't have happened if you'd given me my Ring," said Bakura. "In fact, this wouldn't have happened if you'd just brought me back in a better body. This body isn't made for running or fighting."

"Well, I didn't think you'd have to run or get into physical fights," Marik said. "Aren't you supposed to just steal things without being noticed?"

"If it's so easy, steal your own damn tokens," Bakura spat.

"I didn't say it was easy in general. I just thought it would be easy for you. You're supposed to be some legendary thief or whatever."

Bakura shot him a murderous glare. He pulled off his shirt in one violent motion, grimacing again when the motion caused pain to shoot through his shoulder. Without saying another word, he dropped his ruined T-shirt onto the kitchen floor and stormed off into the living room.

After a moment, Marik sighed and followed him. Bakura had flopped down on the couch. He was lying on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow. Marik noticed the bruise already starting to form on Bakura's right shoulder.

He wasn't ready to give the Ring back to Bakura yet. He knew it was rightfully Bakura's, and that he'd have to give it back eventually, but he just didn't feel comfortable with that yet. He still dreaded that he'd come home one day to find out that Bakura had used his Ring to murder some innocent person. He couldn't risk that. Especially not while Bakura was living here under his roof. He knew that, for now, it was the right decision. But still...still, he felt bad.

He knelt down next to Bakura.

"How bad are you hurt?"

"I'll live," Bakura said. His voice was muffled by the pillow, but Marik could still hear his irritation.

"Is it just your shoulder?" asked Marik.

"That, and I'm sore as hell from running for so long," Bakura said. "Fuck, I hate this body!"

On impulse, Marik reached out and placed his hand on Bakura's lower back, rubbing gently.

Bakura's head snapped up. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Relax," said Marik. He added his other hand, and began carefully massaging along Bakura's back. "If you're sore, this will help."

Bakura made a low growling noise, and Marik wondered if Bakura was going to tell him to go away. When Bakura didn't speak, Marik said, "I didn't mean to imply that you're not a good thief. It's just...you usually don't have these problems."

Marik moved his hands up to the middle of Bakura's back, pressing just a little harder, and felt Bakura relax slightly under his touch.

"I mean, this place is starting to fill up with things you've shoplifted," Marik continued. "You never seem to have any trouble with that."

"You'd have to be an idiot to get caught shoplifting," Bakura said derisively. "It's the easiest thing in the world. Just wait until nobody is looking, and stuff something in your pocket."

"And it's different with the tokens?" Marik prompted. He moved his hands up further, making sure to avoid the bruised area on Bakura's shoulder.

"Of course it's different," Bakura scoffed. "You have to walk up to a person in a crowded area and lift something right off of their body."

Marik carefully, gingerly ran one palm over the bruise on Bakura's shoulder, his other hand rubbing more firmly on Bakura's left shoulder. He was beginning to enjoy the feeling of Bakura's skin against his hands, and the way he felt Bakura's body relax by degrees the longer he continued.

"It just doesn't seem like the kind of thing you'd normally have a problem with."

"It's not," said Bakura.

Marik moved his hands back down, lightly running his fingernails over Bakura's skin as he went.

"So what's going on?"

Bakura sighed in resignation. As Marik began kneading his fingers into the flesh along his spine, he finally said, "I think I'm psyching myself out. Without the Ring, I feel...naked. And just knowing I can't fight...I start thinking about it, and it totally breaks my concentration, and then I make stupid mistakes. Even though I know better. Even though I know I'm better than that."

Marik's hands slipped down to Bakura's thighs, and then his calves, massaging the muscles as he went.

"Well, you got away with the token, so that's what counts," Marik said. He paused. "Thanks, by the way."

"Just doing what I promised," said Bakura. "That's all."

Marik slid his hands up along Bakura's inner thighs, and felt Bakura shiver a little.

Then his hands were tugging at the waistband of Bakura's jeans. Bakura didn't resist when Marik stripped off his pants, leaving him in only his boxers. They fell into silence as Marik ran his palms over Bakura's nearly naked body, and as Marik's hands continued to explore Bakura's exposed skin, the look of irritation finally left Bakura's face completely, his eyes darkening with lust.

Marik put his hands on Bakura's hips, and Bakura lifted himself slightly to allow Marik to slide his hands underneath him. His fingers ran over the material of Bakura's boxer shorts, skimming lightly down his erection, and Bakura sucked in breath. Marik's fingertips moved up and down, just barely touching him, and Bakura's breath quickened.

Then Marik pulled his hands away. Bakura looked at him, his eyes a mixture of arousal and confusion.

"Do you want to play a card game?" asked Marik, smiling evilly.

"I hate you," said Bakura. "Yes."

In another five minutes, they were back in the kitchen, had laid out their fields as usual, shuffled their decks, and sat down to draw five cards each. Throughout the whole process, the smile didn't leave Marik's face.

He was determined to win, no matter the stakes.

"What are we dueling for?" Bakura asked, still sitting only in his boxers across the table from Marik.

"What do you feel up for?"

"Nothing too strenuous. My shoulder still feels sore," Bakura said, placing a coin on the tip of his thumb to decide who would go first. "Heads or tails?"

"Tails," Marik said, and Bakura flipped tails. "Speaking of heads, why don't we bet for a blowjob?"

"Okay," Bakura said nonchalantly.

"Loser swallows."

Bakura smiled. "Even better. You start, then."

The game proceeded as usual. Marik summoned monsters onto the field, Bakura summoned monsters onto the field, they attacked each other, they lost life points. It was after Bakura had been reduced to 4,400 life points and had no monsters on his side of the field while Marik still had his two Evocator Chevaliers and 5,400 life points that Marik finally started toying with Bakura.

He could tell that Bakura was still worked up from the massage. He probably wasn't hard, but he had a fierce blush across his face- most likely from the intense, back-and-forth duel- and his eyes were a blazing, hot brown. The sight alone had Marik itching and squirming in his seat to touch him again.

So he did.

Working his bare foot across the tile underneath the kitchen table, he inched forward until his foot brushed against Bakura's bare calf. Bakura didn't even budge as he looked down at his cards, most likely thinking that the gesture was accidental. Marik lightly caressed his skin some more with the heel of his foot.

Bakura's head shot up and he gave Marik a strange look.

Marik continued his ministrations, working his toes over Bakura's calf and sliding them upward.

"Marik, what the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing." The smile on his face widened, but finally, he dropped his foot from Bakura's and retreated back to his cards.

Bakura placed a card face down on his side of the field and ended his turn, looking frustrated over the fact that he couldn't seem to summon any monsters. Marik drew a card, looking pleased, as he dropped Gil Garth on the field. With Bakura's lack of monsters, this would be far too easy.

"I attack you with...let's see, my first Evocator Chevalier, and then my second, and then Gil Garth-"

"Don't think it's that easy," Bakura said, echoing his thoughts, as he flipped up his face down card. "Mirror Force."

Marik's face soured as he realized that all three of his monsters were wiped out in one turn. But no matter, he still had plenty of monsters in his hand.

While Bakura drew a card and deliberated his turn, Marik's foot sneaked back to Bakura's end of the table, where he grazed Bakura's foot again.

Bakura glanced up, giving Marik that puzzled look again.

"Do you want something?" he asked.

"Nope."

Bakura's attention returned to his cards, as he placed Cat's Ear Tribe on the field. Marik thought the move looked desperate more than anything, but he chose not to comment, as his foot moved to carelessly caress Bakura's other leg. He noticed that Bakura was trying to withhold his reaction this time as he didn't say anything. Marik also noticed that Bakura wasn't doing anything to stop his movements. Marik realized that this could work in his favor- his actions were clearly distracting Bakura from their game.

Marik used Pot of Avarice to bring back some of his earlier monsters, setting Cyber Harpie Lady, the 7-Colored Fish, Gil Garth, and his two Evocator Chevaliers at the top of his deck, and after shuffling his deck, he drew two cards, setting the Cyber Harpie Lady on the field.

"I'll attack your Cat's Ear Tribe with my Harpie Lady," Marik said, knowing that the move would destroy his own monster since the special effect of Cat's Ear Tribe was to reduce the opponent's attack points to 200 during the Damage Step, meaning that the two monsters simply destroyed each other. But Marik was feeling confident, and he knew that Bakura was having very bad luck right now, and wouldn't be able to come back that easily.

Bakura growled, dropping his monster into the graveyard. Again, his side of the field was monster-less. While he drew a card and considered his next move, Marik moved in again.

This time, he placed his hand underneath the table and leaned down slightly, his stomach brushing against the tablecloth as he reached as far as he could. Bakura was too engrossed in his luck-less cards to notice as Marik leaned closer and closer until finally, he brushed against something. After a few sweeps of his hand against the skin, he decided that he'd located Bakura's knee.

Bakura finally glanced at him sharply, his eyes questioning again.

"Marik, what are you-"

But Marik hadn't stopped moving. In fact, he'd brushed his fingers higher and higher up Bakura's leg until he was caressing Bakura's inner thigh. And at that sudden stroke of his fingers against such a sensitive part of his body, Bakura's lips parted, and the look he gave Marik was less perplexed and more lustful.

"Marik," he tried again, but no words were forthcoming.

Marik's smile turned devilish, and his touch lingered on Bakura's warm skin, sliding underneath his boxers as his hand moved higher. Marik had to strain against the table as he tipped forward, letting his fingers stroke upward slowly.

"I think," Bakura finally managed, sounding husky, "that it's your turn."

"You didn't put any cards on the field," Marik said, teasing with his words the same way he teased with his fingertips.

"Didn't have any," Bakura said, not breaking eye contact with Marik.

"Fair enough," Marik replied, and finally removed his hand as he slid back into his seat and drew a card.

The next few turns went by in a blur. They were both only marginally paying attention. All Marik was aware of was Bakura's streak of terrible cards and his own insatiable desire to keep touching Bakura between their turns. At one point, Marik put down Goblin Attack Force on the field and attacked Bakura for 2,300 points in one turn, getting him down to only 1,100 life points, and while Bakura looked pissed off, the glazed look on his face stayed and he still eyed Marik hungrily.

On Bakura's next turn, Marik's hand slid back against his thigh, working small circles into his skin, kneading upward.

"You know, if you kept your hands to yourself, I probably wouldn't be on the verge of losing like this," Bakura snapped, looking through his cards, and glaring at Marik over the top of them.

Marik said nothing, as he dared to go further. His fingers swept against the fabric of Bakura's boxers, working into the crease, when he finally touched the tip of Bakura's cock. He was definitely hard.

Bakura breathed in sharply, as he shot Marik a glare across the table.

"Marik," he said, trying to keep his voice level.

"What?" Marik asked innocently. "Can't concentrate on your cards? It's not like you have any good ones to choose from, so the decision for what to play shouldn't be so hard."

To accentuate his point, Marik squeezed the tip of Bakura's cock when saying "hard" and he didn't miss the flash of desire across Bakura's face. Bakura had nothing to say to that. Marik took that to mean that he was fully turned on now.

Bakura placed a card face down and finally ended his turn.

A turn later, Marik had attached Mage Power to his 7-Colored Fish, and it was then that Bakura really had no hope of winning. Marik wiped out the remnants of his life points in one turn, leaving Bakura with a glower on his face, and a still visible bulge in his boxers when he stood up from the table and followed Marik into the bedroom to fulfill his bet.

Once they were in the bedroom, Marik got onto the bed, lying down on his side.

Bakura looked at him, slightly confused.

"Lay down here," Marik told Bakura, indicating the spot next to him.

Bakura shrugged and did as he was told, climbing up onto the bed to lay down beside Marik.

Marik still had the urge just to touch Bakura, and so he placed his hands on Bakura's chest. Then one of his hands was drifting downward until it was petting Bakura's still-hard cock. Bakura shuddered, and Marik reached into the opening of his boxers, pulling out his erection and slowly beginning to stroke it.

"What are you-"

"I wouldn't want to leave you unsatisfied," Marik said quietly, continuing the motion of his hand over Bakura's cock.

Bakura gasped softly, and as his eyes closed, Marik squeezed harder and moved his hand faster. He soon elicited a groan from Bakura, and Marik felt himself begin to grow hard at the sound.

Marik went on, his hand stroking from base to tip, until Bakura began involuntarily thrusting into his fist, his breath coming fast.

Marik continued his ministrations, rubbing up and down every inch of Bakura's cock, and Marik could tell by Bakura's soft panting that he wasn't going to last much longer. Marik increased his speed, loving the reaction he was getting. He could no longer sense anything but the soft skin under his fingers, and the quiet, desperate noises that Bakura was making against his will. Marik circled his fingers around the head of Bakura's erection, spreading the liquid leaking from the tip all around the ridge and then sliding his fist downward again.

"Marik- ah-"

"You getting close?" Marik asked quietly.

"Yes," Bakura breathed. "Please don't stop..."

"Don't worry," Marik whispered. "I'm going to make you come."

Bakura moaned softly, and his hand reached for something to grip onto, and found Marik's hip. Without thinking about it, Marik leaned in and rested his forehead on Bakura's. Moments later, Bakura made a strangled sound as he began to come. As Marik felt Bakura's cock pulsing in his hand, he drew his head back and looked at Bakura's face, watching as he parted his lips and tilted his head back. He barely noticed Bakura squeezing his hip hard enough to leave fingertip-shaped bruises.

In the aftermath, Marik stayed still for a moment, hearing Bakura's ragged breathing. Then, impulsively, he leaned in and kissed Bakura gently on his forehead.

Bakura seemed too dazed to take particular notice of the gesture, but still, Marik quickly jerked away from him and rolled over onto his back.

"So, about the bet..." Marik started, as Bakura's breath leveled out.

"Oh, right," Bakura nodded slightly, as though just now remembering the earlier part of their evening.

Marik unbuttoned his pants quickly, already feeling turned on after the sight of Bakura coming, and pulled down his boxers, letting both articles of clothing bunch up around his legs.

Bakura's face was still flushed as he eyed Marik's erect cock. He moved to straddle Marik on the bed, and slowly lowered his head.

Marik watched him, propping himself up on his elbows.

"We said swallowing was included, right?" Bakura asked, taking hold of Marik's cock but not yet placing his lips on it.

"Right," Marik smirked.

He saw Bakura hesitate for only a second longer before he licked his lips and slowly wrapped them around Marik's sensitive tip.

"Oh," Marik said before he could help it.

The feeling shouldn't have surprised him by now, but it still did. Bakura's mouth was so moist and smooth around him as he took Marik in deeper, shifting against the bed sheets as he swallowed up his cock inch by inch.

Everything around him was wet and hot and Marik couldn't help but move his hips to get closer, and twist his fingers into the bedspread as Bakura started whirling his tongue.

And then Bakura started sucking his cock in and out slowly, and Marik lost all semblance of control. The strain from propping himself up on his elbows was too great, as he shuddered with each lick, his body shaking, his arms shaking, until he gave up and dropped back against the bed to lose himself in sensation.

He stopped gripping the bed sheets and instead gripped Bakura's shoulders, running his fingertips up and down his arms. He needed the skin on skin contact, although he didn't really know why.

He felt Bakura's hand pump up and down the base of his cock in time with his tongue, and Marik's breath hitched. He was breathless as wave after wave of pleasure gripped him, and he moaned softly as he felt himself getting close.

One of Bakura's hands came up to his stomach and slipped under his shirt, ghosting over his skin, and Marik almost lost it right there.

"Bakura, I'm almost-" he started.

Marik looked down a split-second later, and the sight of Bakura was all he needed to reach his climax. He squeezed his eyes shut, slipped his fingers into Bakura's hair, and moaned loudly as the orgasm shook him, and he spilled everything into Bakura's open mouth.

Finally, he opened his eyes and the ceiling stared back down at him. Bakura removed his mouth, and Marik heard what must have been the sound of him licking his own lips. He laid there, tired but blissful, slowly catching his breath again.

He realized then that Bakura still had his hand under his shirt, because the bottom of it slowly rolled up, and something soft brushed against his stomach. When Marik glanced down, he saw that Bakura had pressed his face into his stomach. The bed creaked as Bakura rose up slowly to straddle Marik, and as he came up, he laid a kiss along Marik's arm, and then one on his shoulder.

Marik wasn't sure if what he was feeling was some sort of post-orgasmic high, but impulsively, he wound his arms around Bakura's neck and pulled him down.

Their faces were inches from one another, both flushed and eyes still glazed and filled with desire. Marik's heart beat fast as he recognized the insistency in his movements, as he pulled Bakura down closer and closer. It was the same feeling he'd had the last time he gave Bakura a blowjob, that moment when he'd kissed along his stomach.

Something quivered in the pit of Marik's stomach as he realized what he was about to do, but he ignored the feeling as his pulse raced faster and faster, and he finally gave in.

He pressed his lips to Bakura's, opening his mouth just enough to run his tongue over Bakura's bottom lip. For a moment, Bakura's lips moved against his, as he pressed into Marik, and that intense feeling gripped Marik harder than ever. He was feeling something in his bones beyond the pleasure of orgasm, something to do with being able to have Bakura now, after the sex.

But then suddenly, Bakura pulled back and slipped out of his grip, moving off the bed.

The whole kiss had lasted maybe two seconds, and as Bakura turned and found his boxers to put them back on, Marik felt his face flush, and wondered why he'd just done that. He slipped off the bed and pulled his boxers and pants back on, acting as though nothing unusual had happened.

And nothing weird had happened, Marik reasoned. They had fucked in so many ways imaginable already. What was a kiss by comparison?

But somehow, it seemed different.

Marik shoved the thought away as he buckled up his belt, and walked out of the bedroom to join Bakura for some late Saturday night TV.

AN: So it turns out the angst isn't going to happen until chapter 15...we're still setting it up. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please review!