Marik and Bakura both stood at the doorway. Marik was about to head to the tournament. Soon after, Bakura would leave to steal the Ring.

"Well," Bakura said, "good luck."

"Not that I'll need it," said Marik. He paused. "Good luck to you, too."

Bakura smirked. "Not that I'll need it."

On impulse, Marik leaned in and pressed a short kiss to Bakura's lips.

"Well, see you tonight," Marik said.

Marik looked nervous for an instant, but his expression changed to one of relief when Bakura smiled at him. "Yeah, see you tonight," Bakura said.

Marik returned his smile and then left the apartment without another word.

Bakura waited a little while before he headed out. As he threw on his coat and locked up the apartment, it dawned on him how strangely domestic their encounter had just been. Two partners leaving the house to go to work. A short kiss on the lips. A quick, "See you tonight."

But this was an aimless thought, so Bakura shook himself and focused on the task at hand. The museum was several miles from Marik's apartment, in the heart of Luxor. As he walked, the main streets brought back memories of steals that seemed eons ago. He mentally marked the street where he'd done a clever exchange of token for jewelry once, and then he strolled past the park on the left, which brought about some memories that involved severely hurting his shoulder, and then some memories of that night that weren't as painful. These thoughts filtered like coffee through a strainer, concentrating the grounds until he got sick of these reminders and stared at the sidewalk the rest of the way to the museum.

He skirted the building as he approached, and stole through a back door that was easy to lock-pick. He couldn't help it. The sheer fact that he was approaching the Ring again made him nervous. A boulder dropped into the pit of his stomach as he edged through the hallways, hood covering his long hair and masking the top half of his face. The tips of his fingers grew cold and his hands grew clammy as the Ring's presence pressed closer and closer. It was an ancient tug that carried him through the halls without a single misstep or hesitation.

And then he was there.

The room opened up like a wide, inverted bowl, and in the center were the Millennium Items. The efforts of the diggers and museum officials lay polished on crimson pillows in see-through cases. Bakura had to remind himself again that these Items no longer held their powers, but- how could they not when they gleamed so unnaturally bright? The gold winked at him with every step, holding his gaze like an unblinking lover, until he was finally close enough to touch the case.

He disarmed the security system as easily as he would take a smoke. When he was finished, the case was no longer sensitive to his touch, and he raised it quickly to take the Ring before letting the case drop back with a definitive thwack. He placed the Ring around his neck, hiding it carefully beneath his shirt.

Bakura was positive that some of the security cameras had already picked up footage of his presence, but just to be sure, he walked right beneath one of them on his way out of the dome-shaped room. When the camera crew checked out the videos on Monday, they would see a timestamp on the screen, which would rule out any chance that Marik had been the one to steal the Ring since he'd been at the tournament all day.

Despite the easy steal, Bakura breathed a sigh of relief when he was out the back door again. The Ring was safely around his neck. The cool touch of the gold was pacifying, like a comforting hand across his forehead, and he hoped this would be the last time he'd ever have to steal it.

Bakura got home long before Marik did. He took off his coat and threw it on the hook by the doorway, heading into the living room to flop down on the couch. The Ring had been safely concealed inside his shirt, but now he took it out, admiring it as he stroked a finger along the golden surface.

It was good to have it back in his possession, where it rightfully belonged. With the Ring, he felt more secure, more whole. He was glad the theft had gone as planned- it was one less thing to worry about, and now that he had the Ring back, he was sure he'd be much more confident in any future heists.

He supposed his theft of the Ring truly cemented his plans. The museum officials would discover the Ring's absence by Monday, and there would be no way he could stay in the country with it in his possession. Not that he was going to stay anyway- after all, Marik had made his decision. Even without the Ring, he would have to hide forever if he stayed here, and that wouldn't work for either of them.

At that thought, he got up abruptly. He supposed he should go ahead and pack his things. There was no sense in leaving it to the last minute.

He didn't have a whole lot to pack, merely a duffel bag or so. Most of his belongings were in the living room, where he'd spent most of his time while staying with Marik. The t-shirts and jeans went in first, and he even found some under the couch and beneath the cushions- clearly, they'd gotten carried away on that couch one too many times.

Bakura hovered around the movie collection. None of it was his, of course, but something about the movie titles and the abundance of familiar ones he'd watched with Marik, suddenly hit him. All the horror classics and the plotlines they'd argued over now came back to him in waves, and for a second, he paused and gripped the edge of the bookcase, waiting for the moment to pass. It was like standing up too fast. He had trouble focusing; each movie title came in double vision. Finally, he shook his head and looked away from the collection.

There wasn't much in the bathroom that belonged to him. As he clicked off the light, the only thing he took from the room was a memory of the time they'd had sex in the shower. That in itself hit him like another dizzy spell.

The kitchen, like the bathroom, held nothing that belonged to him. But the sight of the table on which he'd eaten and played card games for what felt like eternity now was so strong that he might as well have owned it. He pressed his hand against the wooden surface and traced it. Cool and smooth beneath his fingers, and he intended to press the feeling into his memory. The rest of the kitchen was still as ratty as he remembered it from day one, but it wasn't worn in an ugly sense. It belonged to Marik. It was his, and Bakura couldn't help but find it charming. Great, even. Homey.

The bedroom was the last place he looked, and the instant he entered the room, he was breathless. He ran a fingertip across the nightlight Marik used to ward off his nightmares, remembering the way he'd laughed at first. Now, there was only something hard lodged in Bakura's throat at the sight of this light. How could he laugh at a nightmare that was as much his own as it was Marik's?

An hour later, he was done packing, and distracted himself with TV until Marik got home.

It was late by the time Marik returned. Bakura met him in the hallway, and immediately, Marik glanced down at the Ring hanging around Bakura's neck. "So...no trouble, I take it?"

"None at all," Bakura said.

"Do you feel better? Now that you have it back?"

"I do," said Bakura. "How about you? How'd you do in the tournament?"

Marik beamed at him. "I made it to the finals!"

"Congratulations," Bakura said. He wasn't very comfortable complimenting people, but finally, he said begrudgingly, "Your dueling skills really have improved. You deserve it."

Marik smiled. "Thanks."

"So I guess that means tomorrow's your final duel," Bakura said.

"Yeah," said Marik. "If I can just beat the other finalist, I win the whole tournament."

"Do you think you will?"

"I don't want to be overconfident, but I don't think I'll have a problem," Marik said. "The other guy is good, but not that good. She got lucky on some duels."

"Yeah, I think you can win," said Bakura. "Like I said, you've become pretty good...all thanks to me, of course."

Marik smiled. "Yeah."

There was silence between them for a moment, and then Marik said, "Thanks for helping me. I don't think I would have made it this far without you."

"No problem," said Bakura. "I...enjoyed helping you."

Bakura smirked, and Marik gave him a smile in return. There was another silence, and Bakura's face turned more solemn.

"You know, I won't be here when you get back tomorrow," Bakura finally said.

Marik looked down at his hands. "I know."

"So-" started Bakura.

"Will you...will you really be alright?" Marik cut him off.

Bakura sighed. "I told you, I have something worked out with Ryou. Besides, I've been a thief for all of my existence, so I can take care of myself. And now I've got the Ring back, so everything will be easier...especially since I won't have you around saying Oh, don't use the Ring, don't attack people, don't get in trouble, I've got to be good."

Marik wanted to be angry at Bakura's imitation of his Namu voice, but found himself smiling instead. "You know, after you get there, you can- can call me or just...stay in touch...if you want."

Bakura's eyes flickered up to Marik. "I think it's best if I don't."

"Yeah, I- I guess if anyone found out we were in contact, it'd be dangerous for both of us," Marik conceded. Bakura nodded.

Marik looked troubled, and finally Bakura said, "So, do you want to have one more practice duel?"

"No," said Marik forcefully, his eyes suddenly blazing. "I don't want a duel. I want you."

Bakura seemed thrown by the lustful look on Marik's face. His eyes widened, dilating, as Marik grabbed him, pulling him forward before slamming him against the wall. Marik paused for a moment, gathering his breath. Bakura looked distracted by the way Marik pressed into him, licking his bottom lip in anticipation. Letting sheer feeling take over, Marik ducked his head and ran his tongue across Bakura's throat before biting down on his neck, suddenly and desperately feeling the need to mark him.

Bakura gasped at the feeling of Marik's teeth on his throat. "Since we didn't bet...how are we..." panted Bakura.

Marik stopped momentarily and glanced up, looking into Bakura's eyes. "However you want it."

"Then fuck me," Bakura said quietly. His expression had softened, and he was gazing at Marik, his eyes full of naked desire. It was as if he'd let his defenses down for just this one moment, this one time, and it made Marik's heart speed up and his breath hitch.

"Gods, Bakura," he whispered.

And then, before he knew it, Marik was reaching out to take off Bakura's clothes right there in the hallway. Bakura started tugging at Marik's clothes, and Marik began pulling them both toward the bedroom. By the time they flopped down on the bed, side by side, they were both completely naked.

Marik's mouth was back on Bakura's neck, pressing bites along his shoulder before lingering at his chest and licking around his nipples until Bakura arched into him and moaned. They clung to each other, legs entangling and hands moving across skin and fingers twisting through hair.

Unexpectedly, Bakura reached out to touch Marik's back, his hand trembling slightly as he gently ran his fingers over Marik's skin, tracing his scars.

"Bakura- what are you doing?"

Bakura looked at him with half-lidded eyes. "Remembering you," he said quietly.

Suddenly, Marik squeezed his eyes shut. What Bakura had said was such a harsh reminder that this night was the last time he would touch him, probably the last time anyone would ever touch him there because he didn't think he could ever let someone else- and his eyes were burning, and he didn't want to think about this, not now, not ever. Marik hated feeling like this, he hated it. He couldn't even define what he felt for Bakura- sometimes there would be a moment when he thought he might- but he always pushed it away from his mind, never let himself think about it. There was no point in considering it, because things couldn't be changed. What was he going to do, give up his life for a fuck buddy? Bakura could barely even stand to kiss him most of the time, he probably didn't even-

Marik cut off his own train of thought, forbidding himself to think any further along those lines. He wanted to just enjoy this and not think about tomorrow. He squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter, and when he finally opened them, they were clear.

He smiled at Bakura and gently rolled him over onto his back, moving to kneel in front of him.

"I think you want it like this," Marik said quietly. "Tell me if I'm wrong."

Bakura said nothing, only closing his eyes, and Marik sighed in satisfaction, reaching over to the dresser to grab the bottle of lube and set it beside him on the bed.

Bakura brought his knees up, and on impulse, Marik leaned down and began to trail kisses along Bakura's inner thighs, first one side, then the other. He could feel Bakura's legs tremble against his lips.

Finally, Marik brought his head up, and as he placed his hands on Bakura's thighs and slowly parted his legs further, he looked down at Bakura's face. Bakura had opened his eyes, and he was staring up at Marik with a look of almost painful longing. The sight left Marik breathless.

Marik paused for only a moment before he shakily picked up the bottle of lube and poured some into his hand. He reached out, meaning to prepare Bakura, but Bakura shook his head.

"Don't make me wait any longer," Bakura said. "Take me."

Something trembled inside Marik at the way Bakura was completely giving himself over to him. He took a steadying breath and then complied with Bakura's request, coating his own erection with the lube and then sliding inside of Bakura.

He went slowly at first, giving Bakura time to adjust, but soon he saw that Bakura was ready for more, and he began to speed up, establishing a rhythm.

"Deeper," Bakura sighed. "I want all of you."

Marik almost came right then, and he had to pause for a moment to get control of himself. When he thought he had himself under control, he shifted his position and lifted Bakura a bit. Then he started again, sliding all the way in now, as deep as he could go. Bakura moaned softly, and Marik slipped a hand between their bodies, beginning to stroke Bakura's erection.

It wasn't long before Marik could tell that Bakura was close. And this time, Marik didn't want Bakura to hold himself back at all- he wanted him to let go completely.

"Come, Bakura," Marik whispered.

Those words were all it took, and Bakura spilled over Marik's hand. Marik followed soon after, releasing inside Bakura. As Marik came, he pressed his lips to Bakura's throat, and he couldn't help sighing Bakura's name against his neck.

Marik pulled out and rolled to his side, and then he pulled Bakura to him and leaned in to capture Bakura's lips with his own. He brushed his tongue against Bakura's lips, and Bakura opened his mouth. Marik gladly took the invitation, sliding his tongue inside, and Bakura responded in kind.

It only lasted a moment before Marik pulled away, a look of worry crossing over his face briefly as he wondered whether Bakura would shove him away or if things would become awkward. But Bakura only smiled at Marik and tightened his arms around him.

Marik supposed maybe Bakura would be at least somewhat more accepting of things like this now, since it was their last-

But he didn't want to think about that, so he stopped thinking altogether and just allowed himself to move on desire, grasping Bakura's hand with his own and intertwining their fingers. Bakura shifted closer to him, and Marik sighed softly and settled into Bakura's warmth.

"You know, I bet you'll miss this when I'm gone," Bakura said. Then, more quietly, "I'll miss it, too."

"Yeah, I guess," said Marik tiredly, looking up at Bakura with hooded eyes. "But, you know, there are more important things than fucking."

Bakura smiled at him affectionately. "You're so stupid, Marik," he whispered. "So stupid."

Marik didn't know what Bakura meant, and he was about to ask, but then Bakura leaned in and softly kissed his lips once, and then again, and all thoughts immediately left Marik's mind.

Without considering what he was doing, Marik brought his hand up to gently brush back Bakura's hair, and he kissed Bakura one more time. Marik moaned softly into the kiss, enjoying the closeness.

"Gods, so fucking stupid," Bakura whispered, shaking his head slightly.

Before Marik could say anything, Bakura put his arms around him and drew him closer, and Marik automatically did the same, putting his own arms around Bakura and pulling him even nearer. Marik was sleepy, and he felt so warm and comfortable, and all he wanted right then was to fall asleep close to Bakura, so he gave him one more gentle kiss, and then he relaxed against Bakura's body and let himself drift off to sleep.

Bakura looked at Marik's sleeping form. Gently, he reached out to brush Marik's hair away from his face, and kissed him softly on his forehead.

"Thank you," Bakura whispered. "For everything."

Then Bakura settled down next to Marik, pulling him close again, and let sleep claim him as well.

When Bakura woke up, Marik was gone.

AN: Alright, that's the end.

JUST KIDDING.

No, seriously, there's another chapter. Because obviously we have to know how Marik does in the finals!

Anyways, as always thanks for reading and please review!