I'd apologize for the wait, but I think this chapter's awesomeness in itself makes up for the wait. … Okay, I'm sorry it took so long. Things happen. I gave you all a warning in chapter 3, though! I honestly thought I wouldn't update this until November anyway, so BE GRATEFUL!

Also, congrats on everyone that tried out for the last contest! Every person that sent in an answer was right (even though some people were right for DUMB reasons! DX). I have new long-term and short-term contests posted at the bottom of the chapter.

Important sidenote: DO NOT PICTURE ANIME MEN! I really enjoy realism, so when I say "Ryo's big eyes" I mean "eyes that are about the thickness of an average female thumb" or instead of imagining sharp jaws and spiky hair, picture strong jaws and softer features. Shoot, just think of a guy you think is hot, and put Melvin/Ryo/Bakura/Marik features on him. If anyone needs help understanding what I mean by realistic features, I should have a link to my deviant art with a few YGO pics on my profile.

It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream. – Edgar Allan Poe

Marik opened the door and gestured for the other three to get inside. Melvin carried Ryo in his arms to the couch and laid him down gently. Bakura just stormed in not sparing anyone a second glance. Marik wanted to smack the man, but restrained his temper. Marik already did a lot of harm to Bakura and they still had yet to actually talk about anything. Marik had to be tactful in how he would demand his ring back.

"Heh, you look cute beneath me," Melvin almost purred leaning closely over Ryo on the couch. "I'm so happy I didn't hurt this beautiful face of yours. Anywhere you want me to kiss better?" Melvin asked mischievously while a few bronze fingers glided across Ryo's collarbone. Melvin could tell by a few marks that it had been where the larger male held Ryo up, and Melvin visibly winced slightly from guilt. The last thing even a psycho like Melvin wanted was to hurt and deface someone as pure and clean as the boy beneath him.

"I-I really need to get up now. I suddenly feel completely f-fine!" Ryo stuttered never once looking up to make eye contact with Melvin. Their lips stayed so close to each other's, yet remained just ever-so too far. Ryo's heart pounded in anticipation, but his brain took control with it spoke, "Please … don't. . . ." he pleaded finally looking up with a hopeful and pleading expression. The second their eyes met again neither could look or walk away from the heated stare.

Melvin ignored the half-hearted plea, though he slightly respected Ryo for trying to stop what both knew needed to continue. The larger male leaned in so slowly, breath touching breath as their lips stayed millimeters apart with neither feeling uncomfortable giving into such a instinctual desire. Ryo kept in his place as Melvin still continued to get closer, not quite sure if he should meet those dark lips. Marik and Bakura decided for Ryo that a kiss simply was not going to happen.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Bakura commanded practically ripping Melvin off his brother by the collar of his shirt. Melvin prepared to strike back, but Marik held his fist back.

"Stop that, idiot! We brought them here to help their injuries, not make more!"

"Speak for yourself, Marik. I brought the cream-puff over to fuck him. I didn't see him complaining either." Melvin looked back at Ryo with a feral smirk and winked. His smirk only grew when Ryo's face blossomed a deep pink that the boy tried to hide with his long white hair.

"Like hell you will!" Marik and Bakura exclaimed in unison.

Bakura still itched to start an attack on Melvin, but Marik turned him around and bowed somewhat half-heartedly in an apologetic manner. "Ignore him. You took way too many hits to claim to be alright and start another fight." Marik shot Melvin a warning glare. "Well, for what are you waiting? Get the first aid kit."

Melvin grumbled something incoherent that sounded vaguely like "stupid, cockblocking brothers," but he still did as told. Of course, Melvin only did it because the sooner Marik thought the twins were fixed the sooner he would be able to have sex with Ryo without any protests about their physical health, not that Melvin even knew the boy's name yet. Well, it was more like Melvin did not remember it, even thought he definitely did not recall ever hearing it. Melvin just had an instinct; a vague memory, of a time when he could have said the boy's name so sacredly and frequently that it was its own language because even time the name was spoken, it held a meaning specific to that instant that could never be conveyed in other forms.

"Akefia?" Melvin asked with unconscious confusion and sadness aloud to no one in an inaudible mumble.

The other three males did not hear a thing while he went to fetch the first aid kit. Melvin had just went to one of the few cupboards in the kitchenette and pulled out a small blue box of various aiding items. Melvin had (never got rid of it, actually) an issue with fighting, and Marik thought it would be a wise investment of the little money they could spare. Melvin eventually became strong and wise enough to only pick battles he would easily win, but the blonds were grateful nonetheless to have the miscellaneous box at the moment.

Marik urged Bakura and Ryo to relax on the couch and try to rest their sore muscles. The blond wanted to offer water, but that probably would only make the others feel worse, since the sink's pipes had grown grimy and unsanitary to drink from. Running steady fingers through platinum, smooth locks, Marik sighed and figured he could still get the two guests some ice.

"What do I do with this now?" Melvin asked walking to the couch gesturing to the first aid kit.

Marik glared at his useless younger brother. "Just get the disinfectant out and start treating Bakura's cuts. I'll go get them an ice pack."

Melvin shrugged and poured some of the disinfectant on a small cotton ball. "Take the shirt off, Bitchy," Melvin ordered to Bakura.

"Fuck you. I can do whatever bloody I want, you nut job." Bakura snatched the swab from Melvin and began with a small cut on his arm. Probing around a few places, Bakura did not have too many big cuts, but he still felt the initial sting of the disinfectant seeping in. The white-haired delinquent smirked when he saw Melvin just shrug like the dark male had no idea what he would have done anyway. Caring for people were neither male's forte, but at least Bakura picked up a few tricks on how to take care of himself.

Ryo just stayed quiet and to himself, not wanting to get anyone's (specifically Melvin's) attention. Images of that almost-intimate moment played on repeat in the small male's head. Ryo's blush barely faded away when he thought of how much he still wanted that kiss. Would it have been rough and desperate? Passionate and lustful? Short and chaste? Or maybe, and possibly most likely, would the kiss have been something breathtaking and heartfelt? All the questions in his head hurt his brain enough to distract from the dull throbbing of his body. When Melvin had wanted to kiss Ryo better, he probably only made the poor boy worse because of his mind's fretting over nonsensical fantasies.

"Here you go," a sudden voice said interrupting Ryo's thoughts. "Put this wherever it is needed. I think your shoulders and neck are the only wounded areas, so just lay it there," Marik explained passing a bag of ice to Ryo.

Ryo nodded his head in a silent thank you and looked away, holding the ice on his left shoulder, sensing he probably sprained it. The snowy-haired male said little as he shut his eyes and relaxed. With breathing mellow and thoughts only causing him only mild distress, Ryo began to slip from consciousness and avoided listening to the others' senseless disputes.

"Don't I get one?" Bakura sneered trying to carefully handle a cut directly beneath his right eye. The cut stung more than the others, and the stubborn male barely even swiped the general area. Marik placed the ice bag on one of Bakura's swollen legs before be noticed the struggle and took a new cotton swap to Bakura's face.

"You will get something in your eye at that rate." Marik went on his knees and looked up at Bakura on the low couch. His arms extended out where one hand cupped the less damaged pale cheek and the other hand gently dabbed at the cut.

Bakura did not protest so much as melt in the foreign touch. Not even Ryo bothered to do something so intimate, and Bakura never would have let anyone touch him like such anyway. Marik, however, was so different. Marik did not help out of pity or worry like most people would, but rather helped knowing that things needed to be treated before they got worse. Warm, cinnamon-colored hands worked carefully not out of affection for the wounded, but out of need of attention to a wound.

"Make sure it stays clean. I do not think that it is going to scar. It bled a bit because it goes down your face, but it is pretty shallow," Marik stated flatly, not showing any real remorse about having caused several of the wounds on the man he tried to heal. Despite the fact he really did not really sorry about it, Marik felt he definitely could have handled the situation better and regretted the other being unnecessarily wounded. All the blond could do to make amends was make sure the injuries healed well. Marik, deep down for reasons unknown, did not want the sinful man before him so hurt.

Bakura closed his eyes while he trusted Marik to help. Rarely could someone like Bakura find comfort in another's touch, but despite the rough start earlier, he decided struggling would be foolish. Not to mention having specifically Marik helping him felt so right. The scene almost sent eerie déjà vu chills down his spine to the point that when Marik seemed to finish and pull his hands away, Bakura grabbed the wrists and held them in place.

Their eyes met in a faint understanding. Bakura's cut stopped bleeding and only made a slightly distinguishable mark on the alabaster skin, yet oddly enough the mark seemed to belong there. In a short instance, images of something not quite real, not quite unrealistic, flashed before each other's eyes. Instead of dark maroon orbs connecting with soft lavender, crystal amethyst met rich honey. Marik gazed at Bakura in shock while he stared at a tanned man with rich, purple eyes darker than his own and a unique scar down his right eye. Bakura made out a man with proud, hazel eyes and chestnut hair that contrasted barely from his bronze skin.

[M*S]

"Have I told you that you are a fool yet?" a man with ashen lavender hair and bronze skin asked between winces of pain.

"Maybe the first or second time something like this happened. One would think you would stop wasting your breath," a smaller man replied trying to hold back the amusement in his voice. His nimble fingers grazed over the other's face with care and firmness as he tried to tend to a deep cut on the man's face.

"Don't sound so damn smug about this! You owe me your life!" the first man shouted angrily. The words were said out of anger and instinct, but when he thought of them more, a Cheshire grin formed on his face. The smile along with the smeared blood from the cut gave the man quite a deranged appearance, not to say he was not deranged anyway. "I think you should pay me back your life by being my personal sex slave."

The smaller male rolled his gold colored eyes with a shaking of his head. "Stop making that horrible face. You look freaky." The man took some water and wiped away the last of the blood on the other's face at last. "I think that this is going to scar," he commented with hopes that the guilt in his voice was not too obvious.

"Doesn't matter if it scars or not. I'd prefer it, actually." The larger man hesitantly reached out and cupped the smaller man's youthful and handsome face. "I want you to see every day that I would go through anything for you," he mumbled leaning in to kiss the honey-eyed male's forehead.

"Oh, please," the smaller said with a knowing smile. "You just think it makes you look more intimidating."

The scarred man did not laugh, but his proud smirk told the other that he was right. The man kissed his companion again, but instead on the lips. When the man pulled away he was pleasantly surprised by the mixed expression of lust and reduced pride from the other. "You're a sex slave worth every ounce of pain for the pleasure."

That comment obviously earned the larger man a punch on the arm, but he barely felt it along with his other wounds. The man chuckled before wrapping his arms around the smaller and nesting his face into a shoulder with smooth brown locks tickling his nose from the other male. If the man felt even slightly better, he would not stop for a moment to make love with the man that just caused and treated his wounds. Of course he was more than just a sex slave, but that did not mean the larger man did not thoroughly enjoy their passionate rompings.

"I really hate you, you know," the one with honey eyes commented casually as he let the other bury his wounded face into his hair and shoulders.

The lavender-haired man smirked even though the other could not see it. "I can't express that sentiment more strongly back to you."

"Yes, yes. I may just hate that I cannot actually find it in my heart to hate you."

"I hate the fact I could not let you die a dog's death the first time we met."

"I hate always needing to be with you."

"I hate that you always seem to hold me down when you're with me."

"I hate the fact you never seem to stop me from following you."

"I hate the fact you're so hard to turn away."

"I hate thinking if you left me for good that I would die from the pain in here," the smaller said taking the other's hand and gesturing to his heart with it.

"I hate knowing that you are my only reason to come back no matter what," the larger mumbled taking the smaller's hand and placing it on his cut cheek.

"I hate loving you so much, Akefia," he said leaning in closely so that their foreheads touched, lips millimeters apart.

"I hate loving me so much, too, Namu," Akefia murmured with a smirk before he connected their lips in what should have been just a routine occurrence, but meant so, so much more to each male.

[M*S]

Neither Marik nor Bakura said anything of their visions and thought of the images they saw as merely tricks of the mind, neither knowing the other saw the same scene. Marik made motion to pull his hands away from Bakura's face when the bony fingers subconsciously loosened their grip. The Egyptian stood up and patted off some dirt on his pants before flashing Bakura a haughty look. Bakura returned the look through his own snide grin. Neither one understood what they had just seen, nor even that the other saw he same thing, so each pretended nothing happened and acted as they would have regardless. Melvin did no even notice anything happened at all, and just watched to see what entertaining interaction the other two males would have.

"Something you need to say, princess?" asked Bakura in feigned innocent.

Marik brushed off the remark with a cracking of his fist before responding. "Yes, I would like to tell you to return the item you stole from my brother and me. We helped patch you up, so give it back!"

"What?!" Bakura exclaimed in fury. His eyes tried to look innocent, but Bakura knew there was a moment of hesitation where his guilt slipped through, and he hoped the blind was too stupid to catch it. "I told you I don't have anything from you bloody gits! I thought you let that damn accusation go, or at least until you actually had something more substantial than just claiming it was me."

"No, I took you in to talk about getting my item back in exchange for help." Marik's eyes no longer looked confused as they had after that vision, so the fierceness of gaze pierced into Bakura when they stared at each other once more.

"You can't expect someone to want to do something for you after you half-assedly help them with wounds you caused!"

"So what? Do you want me to do something whole-assedly?" Marik spat our with venom. "If that's the case, I can go back an finish maiming you!"

Bakura growled and lifted himself slightly from the couch to lunge at Marik, until he felt something heavy fall on his shoulder. When Bakura turned in fuming head to look he saw Ryo's sleeping body leaning on him. Bakura shoved Ryo off to the other side of the couch, and the sleeping male barely stirred. Bakura questioned how his weak brother could sleep so heavily, especially at a moment like that.

Melvin glared at Bakura from beside Ryo and lifted the boy into his arms again. "Only I get to mess with this body," he warned. "I'm taking him to the bedroom to sleep. Have fun with your unresolved sexual tension, Marik," the crazed brother commented as he headed to Marik's bedroom.

Marik wanted to hurt everyone in the room deeply, but he figured Ryo was innocent enough to not feel his fury, and the blond kept calm enough. "Just keep the damn door open, psycho," ordered Marik, entirely untrusting of what Melvin would do to the unconscious boy.

Bakura seemed to hold in his complaints well enough. The brother knew waking Ryo would be a nightmare, if not just impossible, and decided that if he were to sleep then Ryo should do it comfortably. If Ryo had a stuff neck or woke up after an unsatisfying nap, the normally civil and sweet boy was gone and usually became whiny and snappy; Bakura did not want to walk home with that.

"If your brother lays one finger on my unsuspecting brother. . . ." Bakura warned, letting Marik finish the unspoken threat in his mind.

"Oh, please. Do not think you can intimidate us, thief. Not when I can just poke your sides to make you wince in pain." To prove his point Marik jabbed at Bakura's unguarded side a bit below the armpit. Sure enough, the white-haired male's eyes flickered a bit in pain. Bakura would never let that hold him back in a fight consciously, but knowing they he was wounded, the thief had to admit Marik was right that the blond could take him down.

"I really hate you, you know," Bakura gasped out angrily.

"I cannot express that sentiment more strongly back to you."

Both males paused visibly at how familiar the words were, if not maybe slightly reversed. Clearly the words were reversed because everything just felt wrong yet right. Everything seemed like it was moving so unexpectedly, but like it was all according to some big plan. The words were just a piece of the males' confusion. The vision was only a momentary flash over their eyes. Fiction. Fake. Meaningless. Each thought the other would not understand the short moment of weakness and snapped out of their confused haze before the other misinterpreted the silence.

Bakura and Marik looked at each other again.

Honey met Amethyst.

[M*S]

Melvin almost felt disgusted with himself for carrying and putting Ryo down so gently on the bed. Melvin even let the small boy cling and nuzzle into his neck when he tried to let to. Melvin could not care less about Ryo and his comfort so long as he got to claim that pale, perk ass, yet there he was, on the bed being cuddled by a cream-puff. A little part the disgust, Melvin did not actually mind.

Ryo turned his head away and frowned, a roll of sweat falling from his forehead. The boy looked uneasy, to say the least. Melvin wondered what the other could be dreaming about, especially when he saw a small tear leak from his closed eyes. Melvin wanted to hurt something, a feeling he knew well, but another, foreign, feeling accompanied it that furthered his desire to want to specifically want to hurt what made Ryo so sad.

"Namu," Ryo mumbled, letting go of Melvin and reaching for the air. "You can't. . . ."

The foreign feelings intensified. Melvin's gut lurched, and he almost wanted to puke from the weird churning in his stomach. The crazed Egyptian long ago mastered the ad of making others feel uneasy and scared, but never had someone given him the opposite effect. Despite the fact most of what Ryo said was mere dream-gibberish, Melvin knew it all somehow referred to him. Melvin somehow made Ryo cry. The thought should bring the male pleasure as it would seeing the tears of nearly anyone else, but not from Ryo. What Melvin wanted Ryo were not tears of sadness and pain, but tears of ecstasy and pleasure.

Fingers unsteady and rough, Melvin smeared away the tears and kissed Ryo's eyelids, still not quite gently, but more sweetly than he thought capable. Ryo relaxed exponentially with each kiss, and Melvin freed himself. Getting off the bed, Melvin turned away ready to leave until a small hand caught one of the puffy pockets of his cargo pants. When the easily annoyed blond turned around, any anger soon dissipated from Ryo's drowsy, half-lidded, sweet, chocolate orbs.

"There are other places," Ryo mumbled breathlessly.

Melvin stood confused before turning his face away quickly and replying back an indifferent "What?"

"Places. You said that … you would … kiss me better. Re-remember?" Ryo asked, fluttering his eyelids to flash his hopeful eyes temporarily under pale lids. "I want you to make the pain go away."

Melvin still faced from the other, but smirked widely and mischievously. "You're going to have to be way more specific, cream-puff." Melvin turned and put a leg on either side of Ryo's. The blond leaned down, so close to the other's face, yet too far.

Ryo's face beamed with a smile as he took a lithe finger and traced it from his lips down to his heart. "All these places. It hurts so much. I don't understand. I don't know you. I don't. I just. . . ." Ryo did not know what he knew. All that Melvin could understand was that Ryo wanted kisses, so the lusting Egyptian gave just that.

Melvin started on a particularly noticeable bruise on Ryo's collarbone before working his way up his neck. Melvin licked and nipped at the pale neck happily as he felt Ryo's body writhe and rub against his own, but he wished he could see Ryo's face. Trailing up to Ryo's jaw, Melvin paused and took one long, meaningful glance at the other before leaning down to connect their lips.

Ryo open his mouth before Melvin even considered furthering their lip-lock, but did not waste the opportunity and their tongues danced a passionate salsa. When they parted, Ryo's cheeks flushed to a soft peach-pink color from lack of air. With all that had happened, Ryo's mind was far too hazy to blush from sheer embarrassment the snowy-haired male would definitely feel later.

"You … are really good at that," Ryo commented with a deeper blush. Their eyes met once more before Ryo tugged Melvin down for an endearing embrace. Melvin obviously did not hold the other back, but he did not shove him away either. Melvin was stuck in emotional limbo where he did not know exactly how to handle all his new feelings.

"I thought you needed me to kiss other places, too?" Melvin asked nonchalantly as Ryo held him closer.

"If you kissed it I … I think it would explode. It's in no state for something as … heart pounding as that." The answer seemed to suffice Melvin's curiosity about that enough, but that did not mean Melvin did not still want to rip off the smaller male's clothes and touch him more.

"You're really unusual. Most people would be scared to even think about touching me or having me touch them." Melvin's pride actually wept thinking someone besides his stupid brother did not fear him. Why a strange little pansy of a man could openly yearn for him made no sense. Why Melvin let the somewhat willing body do as he pleased while all the dark man wanted to do was fuck like rabbits in spring made no sense. Why Melvin kissed away damn tearsmade no sense. The general idea that Melvin wanted Ryo in every possible way despite the man having no boobs or vagina made no sense.

Nothing about anything made sense.

Smiling, which confused Melvin even more, Ryo only stated a simple, "I love to be scared" sweetly into Melvin's ear.

Finally snapping and needing at least some closure about who the other boy was, Melvin finally asked, "What's your name?"

Only I can make a love affair go on this long with the lovers still not knowing each other's name. Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter when Ryo reveals his secret identity: LIMEYMAN!

Kidding, kidding. I just like the fact that I could sneak some Citron in here. Citron shipping is like my favorite, and those scenes will play a big part in the story.

Writing Deathshipping is hard. Melvin just isn't crazy enough! DX I'm trying, guys. I really am. You should review, so that I'm happy and feel like trying more. Otherwise, slow updates for you (if any at all) because school is a B****! October 31st I have a huge essay that basically decides whether or not I get my diploma due, not to mention other rigorous classes. Seriously, a guy on my bus had the nerve to say, "Man, I have 3 AP classes this year! My life's gonna suck!" around me. ME! A measly THREE AP classes is CHILD'S PLAY for IB kids!

Also, I have a new challenge for anyone willing to participate. The goal is to actually write ME a story. The theme is "make me feel emotion". Bring me to tears, laughter, anger, whatever. Just make me like it so much I feel something other than indifference all the time. GOOD LUCK, FRIENDS! The contest ends May 1st, or so I believe. Winner gets a one-shot or whatever they want. If you wondering why the time limit is so long, it's because I and other people are likely busy. I want the best someone can offer because I'm sick of reading bull all the time. Of all the hundreds of fanfics I've read, only like 15 are actually favorited. Please make me something wonderful! I'll try to return the favor! I'll put more guidelines on my profile next weekend.

The short-term contest is to guess the font I use to type. The hint is that I only ever type my stories from my phone; there are only three font options for iphone's notepad. Take a guess via PM or in a review (but you can't just make an answer your review because then I get annoyed like no one's business.)

The one-shot I wrote for the previous winner is up and I hope you all go check that out, too.