Ok, so I'm an hour late, but it's still Thursday in some parts of the world... ^_^ This update is mostly plot, but it's fun. At least, I hope it is. I had fun writing it, anyway. Thanks to everyone who is reading/reviewing/following/PMing me, it honestly really helps to know people are enjoying this story. Whilst I have your attention, you should all go and check out the work of FanGirl16, especially her thiefshipping story 'Love of Another Kind' - she is an awesome writer, and she always helps me stay motivated when I'm writing! I blame the lateness of this update on the fact that she was away for a few days this week, and therefore unable to help me. :P
To guest reviewer Saki: Thanks so much for both your reviews! You are wonderfully lovely XD I realised that I never replied to your first one, sorry. ^_^ I am so pleased you like this fic, I am having a lot of fun writing it. I hope you like this chapter!
Now I shall shut up and let you read. XD - Jem
Monday morning rolled around far too quickly for Marik's liking. His nerves had kept him up almost the whole night, and when he had managed to force his eyes shut long enough to sleep it was fitful at best, broken with eerie images of his father, the tomb, and his life back in Egypt. Kek's imminent arrival was foremost on Marik's mind, and it allowed memories to resurface that, in all honesty, Marik would much rather remained deeply buried.
When dawn finally broke, heralded more by the beginnings of traffic than a chorus of birdsong, Marik finally rolled out of bed and headed blearily for the shower. The warm water helped to soothe his aching muscles, his scars tingling slightly where the droplets hit the damaged skin, but he ignored it as always in favour of washing his hair. The long blonde spikes stuck up from his head as he left the water, his reflection almost making him laugh – he looked like Kek, and that was the last person he wanted to be thinking of today. Throwing on his clothes haphazardly, Marik was soon drinking coffee in the kitchen, nails digging into the cracked plastic of the table. Kek was arriving at 10, according to Ishizu's text, and Marik knew he needed to be awake and in full control of his mental capacities to even stand a chance of having a civil conversation with his cousin.
Sunlight dribbled through the thin plastic blinds at the window, causing slats of yellow to cover the kitchen and leaving shadows swirling in their wake. Marik stared fixedly into his empty coffee cup, his eyes faraway. This was how Bakura found him when the pale student finally paced into the kitchen, lifting an eyebrow at Marik's obviously distracted expression and coming to sit down opposite him. "What the hell has got into you?"
Marik visibly jumped, the mug dropping from his hands to clatter onto the table as he stared up into Bakura's laughing gaze. Slightly irritated, Marik allowed his features to drop into a glare as he snapped, "What do you think?"
Bakura shrugged, leaning back. "I would presume it's your cousin, but honestly, I don't see what you're so worried about. All we have to do is tell him to get lost; problem solved."
Marik actually managed to release a small laugh at that, his head dropping forwards, blonde bangs hiding his expression. "You clearly don't know my cousin."
"So?" Bakura stood fluidly, heading to the cupboards to pour himself a bowl of cereal.
"So," Marik repeated sarcastically, "You don't have any concept of just how much could go badly wrong today. Kek is going to flip when he finds out about ... about what happened..."
Bakura scoffed loudly. "Please. By the sounds of it, he should be thrilled that you killed your dad."
"Shut up!" Marik hissed, jumping up from the table with his fists balled at his sides. "Don't talk about anything to do with that, ever! I don't even know why I told you!"
"I'd have worked it out whether you told me or not," Bakura responded sagely, taking a seat at the table and paying no mind to Marik's obviously agitated state. "You don't exactly hide it very well."
Marik turned away with a frustrated growl, his hands going to his forehead and his eyes squeezing shut. "That's beside the point. Don't go prying into my life."
"I'm still coming with you today," Bakura ordered. "I can't have some crazy cousin of yours taking over my flat."
Marik groaned, his forehead creasing. "He won't be taking over. The whole point of this is to get him to go somewhere else."
"Well then, I foresee no problem." Bakura flashed Marik a feral grin before he rose, shoving his bowl unceremoniously in the sink and turning to the door. "Where are we meeting him?"
Marik shot Bakura a dark, dark glare, just to be sure that the other knew how irritated he was at this whole situation, before muttering, "The station. Follow me."
...
Marik's heart dropped right into his stomach when the first thing he saw at the station was a head of spiky, blonde, unmistakeable hair. It was Kek – there was no denying that tan skin, a slightly darker shade than Marik's own, and those dark purple eyes that were scanning the crowd, mouth twisted into what might have been humour, had Marik not known his cousin better. Finding himself suddenly frozen to the pavement, Marik's head reeled as he was hit by a thousand images from his childhood.
Laughing in the sun, chasing Odion as he tried to tag him; Marik had been 'it' for ages now...
Playing out in the streets, dust flying from their ankles as Marik and Ishizu fled Odion and Kek, knowing that when they were caught they would be tickled into submission, until Marik's sides ached and ached from all his laughter...
That one time Marik had found a spiny-tailed lizard, poised perfectly on the sand, its pink tongue slipping out of its mouth once before Kek stamped over and it flicked off back into its burrow...
And then, they always had to go home. Hanging on to Ishizu's hand tightly, keeping strictly to the shadows as they strove not to disturb their father, pretending that they had been studying all this time, and not out playing with Kek...
Marik dragged himself out of his memories with a gasp, his mind confused for a moment as he looked out at a grey, English city as opposed to the dusty streets of Egypt. Kek had seen him. Marik couldn't hold back a flinch as the huge Egyptian strode over to them, grin lighting up his face the moment he saw his little cousin. "Marik!"
"Hey, Kek," Marik mumbled back, looking down at the floor. This seemed to confuse the taller Egyptian, who grasped Marik's shoulders tightly and drew him back, giving him a quick shake. Marik instantly tried to wriggle away, only causing Kek's fingers to dig further into his shoulders. "Ouch, damn it, Kek! Get off me!"
Kek burst out laughing, his voice a low cackle that rumbled the very air around them. "That's more like how I remember you! Now, get over here and tell me what the hell you're doing in a dump of a city like this?"
Marik, once he had successfully freed himself, tilted his head slightly as he glared up at his cousin. "Since when could you speak English?"
"Since Ishizu forced me," Kek sighed loudly, making his irritation plainly obvious. "Gods, that woman. I know she's your sister and everything, but when did she turn into such a prude?"
To Kek's surprise, Marik merely grimaced at the mention of his sister. "You don't need to tell me that."
Kek lifted an eyebrow. "What have you done to piss her off this time?"
"Nothing," Marik responded, the word out of his mouth before he even realised he'd spoken. Kek's eyebrow lifted higher, but Marik shook his head. "Not here. Let's talk somewhere else, um..."
"I know a place." Bakura cut in for the first time, his arms crossed in front of him in his typically arrogant stance. "No one will hear us."
Marik shot him a glare. "This place better be legal."
"Oh, please," A corner of Bakura's mouth pulled up. "I think we both know that you don't care about breaking the law, Ishtar."
"Shut. Up." Marik ground out, deliberately turning his back on the still-smirking Bakura in order to fix Kek with a stern glare. "Just follow us, and I'll tell you everything. Got it?"
Kek, eyes now gleaming with unmistakeable curiousity, obediently followed Marik and Bakura, their steps fast and loud on the concrete. Drizzle coated the air, as ever, and it stuck comically in Kek's spiked hair, running down the strands and dripping onto his shoulders in an ever-present haze. Marik balked slightly when he finally saw where Bakura was leading them – a run-down garage in a quiet, empty part of town – but at Bakura's disparaging look, he wisely chose to make no comment.
Kek followed them in with only a shrug, eyes easily adjusting to the darkness after the damp grey of the atmosphere outside. He planted his feet firmly on the cold, concrete floor, his arms folded in front of him and dark eyes narrowed as he stared directly at his cousin. "Right, enough of the mystery tour. Just what is going on, Marik?"
Marik shifted nervously on his feet, his fingers clenching and unclenching in the material of his light jacket, his eyes fixed determinedly on the floor. "It's, um, about ... well, it's..."
"What?" Kek growled, frustration apparent in his tone.
With a quick flick of the eyes towards Bakura, who merely raised his brows in response, Marik opened his mouth and began to talk in a rush of Arabic, syllables spilling through his lips before they were fully formed. Bakura sighed loudly, muttering, "Now, that's hardly fair," To himself before settling on just analysing Kek's reactions, as well as trying to work out a bit more about the story behind this newcomer. His skin was a much darker shade than Marik's, indicating that he had spent much more time in the sunlight – evidently, the tomb had not stretched so far as to include Kek. Placing one finger on his chin, Bakura allowed his eyes to rake over Kek's towering form – he was much taller than Marik, who evenly matched Bakura in height, and so the pale student had to crane his neck to look up at Kek's ridiculously spiked hair. His clothing, like Marik's, was modern, although Kek's appeared to be more expensive – soft silk, by the looks of it, and loose black trousers to keep out the heat. Either Kek was a lot more well-off than Marik, or he used unconventional methods to shop; one glance at his hardened expression told Bakura that the latter was far more likely.
Kek suddenly interrupted Marik's stream of Arabic with a loud exclamation. "He did what?!"
"Kek, calm down!" Marik reverted back to English reluctantly, his hands flying up to his face in his efforts to silence his cousin's exaggerated reactions. "It's fine, it hardly hurts anymore..."
Kek growled at that, low and loud, his hands curving into giant fists at his sides. "He scarred your back..."
"It was years ago," Marik sighed. "I was ten."
Kek remained deathly silent, resorting to pacing restlessly around the hard, cold floor instead. When he spoke again, his tone was dark and deep, throbbing with anger. "I'm going to fucking kill him. I'm going to kill him..."
"Well, it's a little late for that."
Kek whirled with surprise towards Bakura, who had spoken with a sardonic twist to his lips. He raised one pale hand and pointed a finger directly at Marik. "This little one has already taken care of that for you. Unless you'd like to kill him twice, that is."
"What?" Kek muttered lowly, his gaze fixing on his cousin. "Marik?"
Marik swallowed, shifting a little uncomfortably. "That's what I was about to tell you, if someone hadn't decided to but in."
Bakura raised his hands at Marik's death glare, stepping back with a small chuckle. Marik hissed before turning back to Kek. "I killed dad. Just before I came over here. I couldn't help it – he went crazy after I told him that I wasn't going to stay in that tomb for the rest of my life, and he completely flipped. Came at me with the ceremonial knife, but before he could attack I grabbed it off him and ... and, well, he died." Marik coughed, gaze sinking directly back onto the tiled floor.
Kek stared in disbelieving silence for a long moment, his brow creased and jaw jutting, before, slowly, he released one low chuckle. It was quickly followed by another, and another, until finally Kek was doubled over in laughter, his booming huffs echoing around the old, broken garage. Marik watched in stunned amazement, his jaw actually falling open as he stared at his cousin. Bakura merely smirked from the side, his deep brown eyes glittering with amusement.
After far too long, Kek finally dragged himself upright, still letting out the occasional chuckle as he turned back to Marik. "Gods, you've waited this long to tell me that? Why?"
Marik stumbled and fumbled over his words, stuttering as his brain struggled to catch up with his ears. "Um, I, yes, it ... I thought you'd flip. I mean, he was your uncle..."
"Marik," Kek grunted, his impressive chest still heaving occasionally, "I hardly knew the man. Truthfully, I saw him maybe once in my life, never mind the fact that he abandoned me. Why the fuck would I care about him?"
Marik blinked, his confused look almost amusing before his eyes hardened once more. "Well, excuse me for trying to be considerate!"
"As if," Kek scoffed. "You never try that. Besides, the only thing I've been worried about is why you've been ignoring me after you finally got out of that tomb. I hardly saw you for three years..."
"Shut up," Marik hissed, flicking a warning glance at Bakura, who merely smirked.
Kek shot him an interested look, stalking a little closer. "Yes, that's a point. Who the fuck are you?"
Bakura chuckled. "Yes, I suppose it would be rather a stretch to presume an expectation of anything close to manners from any relative of Marik's."
"Ugh." Kek's face scrunched up. "Gods, you're so English. How can you squeeze so many fucking words into one sentence?"
Even Marik cracked a smile at that, and Bakura released a dark chuckle. "Poor little Egyptian. Am I speaking too fast for you?"
Kek glowered, and Marik quickly stepped between them. He sent Bakura a warning glare before turning back to his cousin. "Kek, this is my flatmate, Bakura."
"By flatmate," Bakura cut in wryly, "He means that he invaded my home. I don't want him there."
"Yes, you've made your position perfectly clear," Marik hissed.
Bakura merely stretched languidly, ignoring the venom in Marik's tone. "I just wanted to make sure you were completely aware of the situation."
"Oh, no, I'm sorry," Marik twisted, his tone sneering and sarcastic as he stared Bakura down. "I don't quite think I understand yet. I mean, sure, you've pinned me to a wall, almost broken my back twice, and stolen my food, but none of that actually means you don't want me to stay, right?"
Bakura's face fell into a scowl. He lurched forwards, face inches from Marik as he hissed, "And, Ishtar, need I remind you that you have yet to replace the food that you stole from me? You ought to know by now that taking from a thief is a really bad idea, especially if he happens to know where you sleep."
"Oh, I'm terrified," Marik jeered. "If you try anything, you'll just get kicked off your course again."
Bakura scoffed. "They'd never kick me off. I'm far too valuable."
"Oh, yes, I'm sure the university could never cope without the great and mighty Bakura –"
"Shut it, Ishtar," Bakura growled. "You don't have a clue what you're talking about."
Marik glared right back. "Oh, and you do? You pretend to know everything, but I bet you don't even know what course I'm studying for –"
They were cut off by a dark chuckle, and both whirled to stare at an amused-looking Kek. "Gods, you two can argue. I didn't know you swung that way, Marik."
"What?!" Marik spat, his eyes narrowing to furious violet slits as he turned on his cousin. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"
Kek only laughed louder at the fury laced in Marik's tone. "Relax. You two should just fuck already, I'm sure it would solve a lot of problems."
Marik bristled, his shoulders tensing, and even Bakura's head twisted unnaturally as he fixed Kek with a glare. Kek looked between them, his grin widening at their obvious discomfort. "Anyway, now that you're done with your lovers' fight, shall we go home?"
"No," Bakura and Marik growled in unison, immediately sending each other glares before turning away. Marik stalked straight over to Kek, placing a hand on his hip and glaring up at him.
"Sorry, but you can't stay with us," Marik stated flatly.
Kek lifted a brow. "Why the hell not?"
"It's Bakura's flat," Marik explained quickly. "And he's a thief. The police have already been knocking, and neither of us need that."
Kek sent Bakura an almost interested glance, but Bakura was still steadfastly looking the other way. Turning back to Marik, Kek jested, "And, what, you think I'm going to attract the police?"
Marik fixed him with a look. "Please. I've seen you steal from the markets often enough to know that you are bound to get in trouble at some point. I don't need it. Stay away from me, alright?"
Kek laughed darkly. "You know me so well. Fine, I'll find my own place – there are hotels in this godforsaken country, right?"
"Of course," Bakura hissed from his corner. "And they'll be a damn sight better than Egyptian accommodation too, I assure you."
"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist."
Marik burst into guffaws of laughter at Bakura's disgruntled expression, turning to his cousin with delight in his violet eyes. "Is that seriously an expression?"
"Ishizu taught me it," Kek grinned. "And by the reaction of your friend over there, I'd certainly say it was."
"Yes, well," Bakura grunted. "We've spent far too much time here. Marik, are you coming or what?"
Marik rolled his eyes. "Whatever. What time is it, anyway? I've got classes today."
"It's almost 12."
"Shit! Seriously?!" Marik whirled to face him, eyes widening. "Class started half an hour ago!"
Bakura couldn't stop a smirk tugging at his mouth. "You'd better run along then."
"Asshole! You could have warned me!"
"How was I meant to know that you had a class?" Bakura quirked a brow.
Kek grinned, placing one hand on his cousin's shoulder and shoving him good-naturedly. "Go on, get out of here. I'll come and see you at some point."
"You're not coming to the flat," Bakura deadpanned.
Marik sent him a glare as he flounced towards the door. "He'll come to the flat if I want him to. Which I do. Deal with it."
Bakura glared after him, following him out of the garage and back into the rain, muttering curses about ridiculous Egyptians as he went. Once they had both gone, Kek let another dark cackle fill the garage. Oh, this was going to be fun.
...
By the time Marik finally got to his class, he had completely missed the lecture and only just slipped into the back of his seminar class before the professor entered. Luckily, Yami had saved him a seat, and merely sent him one questioning glance as the group started. Marik waited for the professor to launch into a long explanation on a complex historical piece before scribbling a note to his neighbour. 'Family stuff. Sorry.'
Yami spared the note a quick glance, nodding once before he turned back to the professor. Marik rolled his eyes at the goody-goody behaviour, but reluctantly flipped open his own notebook and began to scribble down what he could.
The hour long class dragged by, and when it was over Marik couldn't get out of there fast enough. Just as he stood, though, he suddenly found himself confronted by a brunette girl – the same one who had stopped to talk to Yami after their last lecture. She smiled brightly up at him, either not noticing or choosing to ignore his dark glare. "Hello! I'm Tea. Have you seen Yami today?"
Marik's brows furrowed further, but he reluctantly stepped aside to reveal the spiky-headed student just behind him. Tea's eyes brightened when she spotted him. "Hi, Yami."
Yami jumped, not having noticed her approach, and his eyes were a little wild as he looked up at her. "Oh, um, hi, Tea. How are you today?"
"Just fine, thanks!" She smiled brightly at him, her eyes warm. "I was actually wanting to ask you something – I saw a flier for a concert that the music school are putting on, tomorrow lunchtime. I've spoken to some of the students, and they say it's going to be incredible – would you like to come and see it with me?"
Yami, if possible, became even more flustered, his cheeks tinting a little. Marik had to suppress a laugh at his obvious cluelessness. In his desperation, Yami's eyes fell on the Egyptian, and before Marik knew what was happening he managed to stutter out, "Marik? Y-you'd come as well, right?"
Fuck. Catching Tea's hopeful expression, Marik forced a smile onto his face and muttered, "Sure, why the hell not?"
Tea beamed. "Great! I'll talk to my flatmates – I'm sure Joey said he'd like to go, and Mai will if he does, so that makes five! I'll meet you in the foyer at 1, alright?"
Yami nodded, words failing him as he smiled, and once she was out of earshot he breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief.
Marik sent him a disparaging look. "I hope you know that you've just dropped me in my worst nightmare."
Yami even managed to look a little apologetic as he gathered his stuff together and led the way out of the door. "Sorry. It could be fun, though – you never know."
"Yeah, because my idea of fun is watching you mope after some girl you're too scared to ask out. Why don't you just fuck already?" The words were out of Marik's mouth before he remembered when he'd heard them last – when Kek had insinuated that he and Bakura should get together – and heat instantly rose to his face. He cursed himself silently. Why the hell did that bother him so much?
Yami, however, was too busy stumbling over Marik's rather course language to notice anything amiss. "I don't want to – I mean, I wouldn't – I don't..."
"Save it," Marik muttered under his breath as they exited the uni building. "I wasn't being serious."
Yami looked a little relieved, although he was most certainly still flustered. "A-anyway. How is Bakura treating you? Is he getting any better?"
Marik thought back to that weekend – when he had shown Bakura his scars, and then been introduced to the piano – and he couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across his face. "I guess, he is a bit better than he was..."
"Seriously?!"
Marik jumped a little at Yami's incredulous tone, shooting him a small smile. "Well, yeah, like, a tiny, miniscule amount. He isn't going to be throwing me a party anytime soon, but I also don't think he's going to kill me by the end of October, when I can finally get a flat of my own."
"Oh." Yami's tone settled a bit as they continued along the pavement, his expression falling back into its usual serious stare. "Yes, that must be good. I wouldn't want you getting hurt by his hand."
Marik lifted a brow at that. "Please. I could take him, if he really decided to threaten me."
"Mhm." Yami didn't say any more on the subject, and Marik decided not to push him.
Soon enough they went their separate ways, and Marik made his tired way up the six flights of stairs to his flat – the lift had broken down, and the repair men were yet to come in. Twisting the key in the lock, Marik's growling stomach led him straight to the kitchen. He scoured the cupboards quickly – he had taken over all of them once Bakura discovered what a good cook he was – but it very soon became apparent that they had nothing left in. Marik cursed. He'd forgotten to shop this weekend, his mind too fixed on Kek's imminent arrival to properly stock up, and he did not want to traipse all the way down those six flights of stairs to get to a shop, never mind lugging the bags all the way back up them afterwards. No, fuck it – Bakura could sort food out this evening. Marik had cooked enough this week.
As if the very thought of him drew his presence, Bakura at that moment re entered the flat, dropping a bag off in his room before entering the kitchen and fixing Marik with a glare. "Cook, Ishtar."
Marik scoffed. "Like hell. There's no food. You sort dinner out for today."
"Fuck off," Bakura growled, taking ownership of one of the seats and flinging his legs up onto the table. "Go to a shop."
Marik glared at him. "No way. I cook every night – it's about time you got off your lazy ass and fed yourself."
"You hate my food," Bakura pointed out angrily. "You said so yourself."
Marik's nose wrinkled as he remembered the frozen pizza he had been forced to eat on his first night here. "Ugh, yeah, we're not eating your frozen food. Cook something else."
"I can't," Bakura hissed."
Marik sat down opposite him, shoving his legs off the table in order to fix him with a hard stare. "Just sort something out! I'm hungry."
"Fuck it, I'm getting a takeaway," Bakura hissed. He stood and stalked over to a pile of leaflets in a corner, chucking over his shoulder, "I assume you know what that is, despite growing up in a hole, right, Ishtar?"
Marik's glare deepened to hide the fact that he didn't have a clue what Bakura was talking about, but the other's laughter told him enough. Bakura sent him an amused glance as he spoke. "It's where you order food over the phone, and they bring it to your door. I'll call, you go down and wait for them at reception. Understand, Ishtar?"
"Stop fucking saying my surname," Marik muttered, but he obediently left to clamber back down those six flights of stairs; it only struck him once he was back outside in the rain that Bakura might have just been winding him up. "Fuck it, if he's tricking me then I'm putting raw chile in his meals for a month," Marik muttered under his breath, jigging on the spot to try and keep warm. It took fifteen minutes for a van to finally pull up, and Marik lifted a brow when a man jumped out with two pizza boxes. He took them, grateful of their warmth as he scurried back up the stairs and into the flat.
Bakura grabbed them off him as soon as he got in the kitchen, opening the lid of the first one and shoving it towards Marik with a grimace. "Yuck. That one is definitely yours. Vegetarian muck."
Marik snorted, taking the box, although he felt a small flutter of warmth at the fact that Bakura had remembered not to order him meat. His smile immediately dropped into a scowl when he saw Bakura tearing into the pizza without even washing his hands, though.
"Ugh." Marik wrinkled his nose, heading to the tap and pulling down a plate for himself as he went. "I can't believe I actually live with you, pig."
Bakura merely lifted a brow, swallowing before replying. "The way I eat doesn't need to suit your fucked-up sensibilities, thank you very much."
"Shut up," Marik responded automatically as he sat back down.
Bakura tore off another mouthful, speaking around it as he added, "And you owe me £7.49, on top of everything else."
"I'll add it to the list," Marik responded sarcastically.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, and Marik allowed his thoughts to drift back to that morning. Seeing Kek again had actually, in a weird way, been sort of refreshing . It was true, he had brought back a lot of uncomfortable memories, but then ... well, he had been Marik's one source of fun back in Egypt; a trait he seemed to have carried into England, as well. Surprisingly, Marik found it strangely comforting to not be the only Egyptian in this city anymore.
"So," Bakura spoke once he had devoured his pizza. "Are you going to tell me what the deal with your cousin is?"
"Hm?" Marik shot him a questioning look as he chewed.
Bakura sighed loudly. "Clearly, he didn't live in the tomb with you. Who is he?"
"Oh." Marik slowly finished his last slice, pausing as he thought over just how much to tell Bakura. "Well ... no, he didn't live in the tomb. His mum was my dad's sister, but she and her husband were both killed in an accident when I was six. Kek's only a couple of months older than me, and father was listed as his next of kin, but when Kek was handed over to us dad kicked him out."
Bakura lifted a brow. "A six year old kid? Seriously?"
"Yeah," Marik scoffed. "My dad wasn't exactly known for his generosity. So, Kek's grown up on the streets. That's all you need to know."
"Oh, come now. Surely you can tell me more than that." Bakura tilted his head, and Marik thought he caught a glint of genuine curiousity.
With a slight moment of hesitation, Marik continued, "Well, he used to come and let us out. You know, to play, sometimes. He had seen the tomb when his parents first died, so he knew how to find us, and when dad was busy – we used to have a signal, so he'd know – Kek would come and get us out, and we'd play above ground for a few stolen moments, before we had to go back underground. It was the best fun." Marik grinned, feeling himself sinking back into his memories again, hardly aware that he was still speaking aloud. "Kek was my age, but a lot stronger than me, so he would always win our wrestles. I was faster, though – I was the fastest of us all, I could even outrun Odion – so I would always try and make the others play tag. But Odion would always worry about our clothes getting dusty, and dad finding out, so we had to wash in the river before we went back underground. I spent as long as I could in the water – it meant more time in the sun ... Of course, dad found out. Eventually. It took three years to get back out again, and I had to murder him for that..."
Marik trailed off, his jaw snapping shut when he caught Bakura's intense stare. The pale student waited a moment before asking, "So, today was the first time in three years that you saw Kek?"
Marik nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. The two watched each other for a long moment, Marik growing tenser by the second, before Bakura broke into a feral grin. "God, you had a deprived childhood."
"Shut up," Marik hissed, although it was good-natured – there had been no venom lacing Bakura's tone, after all. "I doubt yours could have been much better."
"Beside the point," Bakura waved him away, getting to his feet with a stretch. "You're coming with me."
Marik scowled at his back. "Like hell I am."
"I mean it, Ishtar." Bakura leered at him over one shoulder, his arms high above his head as he stretched. "I saw a bit of your home today, and now it's your turn to see a piece of mine. Come on – let's go."
Marik's scowl deepened, lines creasing his forehead. "I am going nowhere with you."
"Yes, you are," Bakura responded sagely as he exited the kitchen. His voice floated back from the hallway, sardonic tone unmistakeable. "Unless you're too scared, of course."
"Oh, you are fucking asking for it," Marik muttered. He stopped just long enough to dump the pizza boxes in the recycling bin before following his hated flatmate out of the room, afire with curiousity in a way that he would never admit to out loud.
That's it for now! Next chapter is going to be a fun one, I reckon. We'll get to see where Bakura is taking Marik, anyway. XD Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! - Jem