So, another update! It carries directly on from the end of last chapter, which is why I included the last bits of that one at the start. This update has a lot of fluff, haaa. I love fluff, couldn't resist. Having said that, though, there is a lemon at the start of this chapter. Proceed with caution if you don't like smut. ^_^
I'm sorry for the shortness of this chapter. Life is being rather difficult just now, but I didn't want to not update today, so I've only included about half of what I was going to. Thursday's update will probably be the next half. There are probably lots of typos, but I just do not have the energy to find them right now - please, if you see any, let me know and I'll fix them. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thank you to everyone reviewing – you all make my day. – Jem
Bakura rolled his eyes, his hands coming to rest on Marik's shoulders as he tugged him nearer. "I fucking hate you."
"Love you, too," Marik grinned before joining his lips with Bakura's.
Bakura kissed back, his arms winding around Marik's neck as he jerked him forwards again, exhaling slowly. Marik settled happily into his embrace, giving short sweet kisses until he pulled away and rested his forehead against Bakura's, the two just watching each other for a long moment.
Bakura's brown eyes blinked and he smirked slyly, running his fingers slowly down Marik's sides until he met the hem of his shirt. Marik moved closer, his hips meeting Bakura's as he held them together, arms tight around Bakura's waist. Marik pressed his lips to the crook of Bakura's neck before murmuring sensuously, "Is this going where I think it's going?"
"If you promise not to freak out this time," Bakura chuckled, running his hands under Marik's shirt and tugging the material off quickly. "You would have thought I'd murdered your family or something, with the way you reacted last time."
Marik snorted, quickly stripping Bakura of his shirt and kissing him harshly, pushing him over towards the bed. "Considering I'm not drunk this time, the chances of an overreaction are decreased. And I wasn't that bad, considering you preyed on a drunk teenager."
"Fucking brat." Bakura's lips met Marik's again as he span them around, pushing Marik down onto the bed. Marik hissed when his back hit the sheets, pushing up instantly only for Bakura to slam him back down again, grinning.
Marik glared. "Move."
"Fuck no." Bakura easily straddled Marik, pinning his wrists as he caught him in another kiss.
Marik turned his head irritably, attempting to sit up against Bakura's strong hold. "Let me up."
Bakura's only answer was a smirk before he bent down and claimed Marik's lips again, this time grinding down into Mari's hips. Marik was lost in pleasure when Bakura slid against him, arching his back and mewling as pale fingers slid down his bare chest, pausing when they reached his belt buckle. Bakura broke the kiss and slid further down Marik's body, concentrating on undoing the strap.
Marik took advantage, bucking up and rolling, forcing Bakura beneath him and kissing him again. "I am not undressing unless you do, too."
"Gladly," Bakura snorted, his eyes dancing. "But you might want to let me up."
"Like hell." Marik made quick work of undressing Bakura, kissing him again and grinding down. Bakura bit back a growl and sat up, forcing Marik far enough away that he could get a finger in his belt buckle. Marik took the hint, stripping so they were both bare and tackling Bakura back down.
Marik relished in the heated exchange of kisses, still a little in shock that Bakura actually wanted this. There was something beyond lust in Bakura's eyes as he flashed them up at Marik, something softer and entirely more appealing, sending heat coursing through Marik's veins and pooling sensuously in his gut. Marik was distracted by the gentle movements of Bakura's hands as they slid up his arms, caressing his skin – that was, until his grip tightened and he moved, and Marik's back was slammed into the sheets once more.
Marik glared petulantly up at him. "There is no way I'm letting you lead."
"Just you try and fucking stop me." Bakura's tone was tinged with amusement as he straddled Marik again, grinding just enough to produce a cry from Marik as he reached into his bedside table.
Marik squirmed, attempting to wriggle away only for Bakura to come back and capture his wrists, leaning right over him and kissing him slowly. Marik wrinkled his nose when Bakura pulled away. "No one dominates me."
"That's what you get for being such a fucking tease for so long." Bakura's hands went to Marik's hips before sliding down his thighs, parting his legs and settling between them. Marik growled, instinctively scrabbling away only for Bakura to bring him back, grinning.
Marik sniffed. "I wasn't a tease. I thought you hated me."
"Why you would think that, I have no clue." Bakura shook his head, retrieving the bottle he had grabbed from the bedside table. "I even kissed you when you first told me you were leaving."
Marik pursed his lips, watching Bakura's fingers warily as he coated them. "You were too confusing. One minute you were yelling at me, the next you were making out with me."
"I forgot how socially inept you are." Bakura smirked at him, leaning forwards again to plant a sensual kiss on Marik's lips. "I promise not to tease you in the future. Too much."
"Arrogant bastard." Marik latched back onto him, wrapping his legs around Bakura's waist and pulling him closer, loving the friction when their bodies touched. Bakura kissed him again, his eyes sliding closed as he slid one coated finger down Marik's chest and between his legs. Marik hissed at the intrusion, scrabbling away, but Bakura held him tightly.
Their gazes met. Bakura muttered, "Are you going to let me in?"
"Does it..." Marik swallowed his question, his eyes instantly narrowing as he dared Bakura to laugh.
Bakura stifled a smirk. "It doesn't hurt for long."
"You'd better be fucking worth it," Marik muttered, parting his legs again and allowing Bakura to move. He wriggled against the strange sensation but Bakura was soon distracting him, kissing him deeply, tangling the fingers of his free hand in Marik's hair. Marik kissed back gratefully, reminding himself that this was Bakura touching him, and it felt absolutely electric. Bakura slid his fingers out of him soon enough, coating himself quickly before parting Marik's legs further and resting against him, kissing the side of Marik's neck.
"I know this is your first time," he breathed against Marik's neck, "So I'll go gentle, ok? Just be patient."
Marik nodded, his fingers latching onto Bakura's shoulders as the pale student moved above him. Marik kept his eyes on Bakura's chest at the first thrust forwards, drawing in a hissing breath and wincing, his nails digging lines into the pale skin under them. Bakura bent down and kissed him again, whispering, "You've got to relax for me, alright?"
"Relax?" Marik hissed back, clenched completely around Bakura. "How the hell am I meant to do that?"
Bakura held back a chuckle, sitting back on his knees and running his hands around Marik's thighs, massaging the back of them as he lifted Marik up slightly. "Trust me. Relax."
Bakura's fingers dug into Marik's skin and he mewled, feeling himself relaxing imperceptibly as Bakura moved deeper. "Ughh..."
"I know," Bakura hissed, his breathing laboured. Marik risked a look at his face and almost gasped at the look of restrained pleasure covering Bakura's features; his eyes were dark slits in his pale face, white strands of hair sticking to his forehead as he edged forwards another tiny amount. Marik couldn't hold back a groan, his muscles clenching again and eliciting a hiss from Bakura. Their gazes met and Bakura leaned forwards, kissing Marik before muttering against his lips, "Come here. I have an idea."
Marik frowned but obeyed, pushing himself on his elbows and trying to ignore the uncomfortable squirm in his backside. Bakura's arms wrapped around Marik's back, dancing lightly over the scars as he pulled him up onto his lap. Marik wriggled, slight grimace crossing his face until Bakura whispered, "Just stay there," before he fell back to lie on the bed.
Marik drew in a sharp breath when Bakura lay prone under him, feeling himself grow harder at the mere sight. Bakura's eyes were squeezed shut, his fingers digging into the sheets beneath him as he adjusted to Marik's weight before opening his eyes a crack and smirking. "You get to move, now."
Marik blinked, slowly understanding what Bakura was getting at. He placed his hands on Bakura's pale chest, leaning over him a little more and pushing himself up, hissing a little at the strange sensation. Bakura slid a hand up Marik's arm to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing under one eye as he smirked. "Now you have to go back down."
"I get the gist," Marik snapped, ignoring Bakura's low laugh as he moved down.
Both students ceased talking and gasped when Marik sank fully down on Bakura. Marik couldn't help closing his eyes, his muscles clenching and eliciting a low growl from Bakura, who's fingers moved to grip tightly onto Marik's hips. Marik's eyes flew open again and he grinned at the look on Bakura's face; the pale student was completely at his mercy. Enjoying the sight immensely, Marik lifted up again, picking up the pace as he grew more used to this new position, his legs held tightly either side of Bakura's hips. Bakura couldn't help moving with him, the feeling of being surrounded so completely absolutely overwhelming.
Marik stopped, surprised when he felt Bakura's hips smack into his, but he soon adjusted and pushed back against him, friction increasing. Then Bakura's thrust hit deeper and Marik's head arched back, a startled cry tearing from between his lips as his eyes screwed tightly shut. He instantly moved again, pushing down as far as he could, searching for that one spot. Bakura grinned, knowing what Marik was after; he opened his eyes to see Marik's ecstatic expression just as he gave a deliberate thrust upwards, aim perfect.
Marik practically screamed, the noise coming from his mouth sending delicious shivers all up Bakura's spine. The pace picked up now as they both eagerly sought pleasure for the other, skin smacking together as each got close to the edge. Almost unbearable heat pooled low in Marik's stomach, gathering with each thrust until it was almost painful. Bakura caught his expression and, with a few quick flicks of his pale wrist, Marik exploded with a cry. His muscles clenched, sending Bakura over the edge too, legs tangling together as Bakura pulled Marik down, peppering his neck with kisses. Both students lay in ecstasy, breathing heavily against each other as they slowly came down from the high, lying in prefect relaxation.
Bakura was the first to move, his breathing still a little laboured. "Shift, Ishtar," he growled, shoving Marik's shoulder lightly. "You're heavy."
Marik merely sent him a glare, refusing to move.
Bakura rolled his eyes, lifting himself up on his elbows and sliding Marik off. "If you're that tired, we'll actually go to bed."
Marik arched a brow, pointedly looking at the sheets they were lying on before staring at Bakura, the corners of his lips twitching.
"Yes, I know full well that we're on my bed," Bakura growled irritably. "But we're not in it. I'm not getting cold."
Marik yawned, begrudgingly shifting around to the head of the bed and crawling under the covers, Bakura following suit. As soon they were both comfortable Marik firmly rolled on top of Bakura again, throwing an arm across his chest and burying his head in the crook of Bakura's neck. Bakura scoffed quietly, one hand reaching up to lay gently in Marik's golden hair. "You know, cuddling isn't a compulsory after-affect of sex."
"Shut up," Marik commanded sleepily, his eyes sliding closed. "It's easier this way."
Bakura merely snorted, ruffling Marik's hair slightly. Marik, as ever, ignored him, curling further into his side and soon drifting into sleep. Bakura watched him quietly, loving the way his warm weight leaned into Bakura's chest, the rise and fall of their breathing in almost exact rhythm. An unreadable expression crossed Bakura's face; his free arm lifted to brush Marik's exposed torso, adjusting the covers slightly, pulling them closer to Marik's chin. Marik shifted a bit in his sleep, unconsciously cuddling closer, and Bakura couldn't stop himself from wrapping his free arm tightly around Marik's shoulders, enclosing him.
Bakura continued to watch the Egyptian in his arms well into the night before his own mind finally found the haven of sleep.
...
Marik awoke slowly the next morning, warm sheets pulled up to his chin and a familiar calming noise brushing his ears. Stretching luxuriously, Marik opened his eyes and was instantly reminded of the last time he woke up in this room; the scene was almost identical, but his reaction this time could not be more different. The room was still a mess, Bakura's clothes littering the carpet along with a couple of items Marik spotted as his own. The piano was playing again, but when Marik turned sleepy violet eyes in its direction he met a dark brown gaze searing straight at him, a very familiar smirk pulling at one corner of pale lips. Marik instantly felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
Bakura turned back to the piano after a moment, his fingers easily picking out a melody. "Well, you haven't stormed out of my room yet. So far, so good."
Marik released a low chuckle, stretching again before sitting up, the covers gathering around his waist as he tossed Bakura a wink. "I only do that when I'm in the mood."
"In a mood, more like. You are the sulkiest teenager I've ever met." Bakura smirked from beneath hooded lashes, easily dodging Marik's projectile. He rolled his eyes. "If you could refrain from throwing things around my room, I would be eternally grateful."
Marik sniffed, crawling down the bed towards Bakura. "You shouldn't have brought me in here, then."
"As I recall, you were in here when I arrived," Bakura pointed out with a grin. "Destroying my piano, if I remember correctly."
Marik glared, his eyes flashing as he stopped just at the edge of the piano stool, his brows furrowing as he fixed Bakura with a hard stare. "I was trying to remember what you showed me, that's all."
Bakura's lips stretched, his brown eyes dancing. "Oh, come on. I taught you the easiest chord; you should at least have been able to remember that."
"Is that a challenge I sense?" Marik crawled fully off the bed, shoving Bakura down the stool a little as he sat beside him.
Bakura scoffed, but the sound was light. "If you think you can remember."
Marik's only response was a haughty sniff before he lifted his hands a little, examining the keys carefully. If he could just picture what Bakura had showed him ... he was almost sure that the notes had all been white, but he couldn't remember what the gaps between his fingers should be. Hesitantly, ignoring Bakura's teasing gaze, Marik gently rested his fingers against the keys, adjusting them slightly before attempting to press them down. A soft dissonance rang through the air.
"Close," Bakura admitted, shifting up the stool and wrapping one arm around Marik's shoulders. "You're a little off in a place or two, though."
"It's damn hard to remember," Marik grumbled discontentedly, leaning against Bakura's side with a small sigh. Bakura wrapped his fingers around Marik's, adjusting them until they were against the right keys, and pressed down; a bright chord sounded happily, and Marik grinned.
Bakura caught his proud expression and shook his head, his lips twitching. "There's nothing to get excited about. C major is the easiest, and I still had to show you how to do it."
"Whatever," Marik responded with a yawn, resting his head on Bakura's shoulder. "I'm tired. Ask me again when I'm more awake."
Bakura snorted softly, pulling Marik closer and wrapping his arms around his torso. Marik snuggled happily into the embrace, enjoying the feeling of being held so securely; his skin burned wherever they touched. Bakura laid his head in Marik's hair, breathing in his scent and enjoying the closeness they finally shared, tightening his grip when Marik shifted further along the stool and turned his head, nuzzling Bakura's neck. Bakura dropped a kiss to the top of his head before chuckling softly, "You're such an idiot, you know that?"
"I thought you'd be less offensive now," Marik grumbled, stifling another yawn.
Bakura scoffed. "As if. You are far too easy to tease."
"Bastard." Marik's response was half-hearted, though, and diminished somewhat by him pressing himself closer, practically sitting on Bakura's lap. Bakura rolled his eyes but allowed it, pulling Marik's legs over his own and placing his hands on either side of Marik's face, tilting his head up. They stared at each other for a moment, Marik's eyes clouded with sleep but clear enough to pick out the strangely unreadable expression crossing Bakura's features.
Bakura continued to stare at him for a moment longer before leaning forwards and kissing him slowly, full on the lips. Marik smiled when he pulled away, tilting his head to the side. "What was that for?"
Bakura remained quiet, keeping Marik's head firmly in place, not allowing him to look away. Marik arched a brow, about to question further but Bakura silenced him with another deep kiss, leaving Marik almost breathless when he pulled away. Bakura quietly rested their foreheads together, leaving another moment of comfortable silence before speaking. "I was just making sure I can still do that. Without you freaking out, I mean."
Marik blinked. He supposed Bakura's words made sense, though – so many times Marik had pushed Bakura away, refusing to have anything to do with him, overreacting over everything. In fairness, Marik thought with a small twitch of his lips, Bakura hadn't exactly made his feelings obvious. Looking calmly into Bakura's burning eyes, Marik knew that things had settled between them now; despite how explosive their relationship had been so far, Marik found comfort in the knowledge that Bakura wanted him around.
So it was that Marik dig his fingers into Bakura's shoulders, pulling the pale student forwards into a mouth-searing kiss.
Bakura's eyes slid closed as he tugged Marik nearer, running his hands up tanned sides. Marik's arms wound around his neck, anchoring himself as he firmly pried Bakura's lips apart, running his tongue along Bakura's and exploring his mouth with a new tenacity. Bakura released a low moan, his fingers scrabbling up Marik's back. Marik froze when they brushed his scars.
Bakura pulled back and opened his eyes, a small crease appearing in his brow. "What?"
Marik's jaw set. "You know full well 'what'. Get your hands away from there."
"You didn't seem to mind last night," Bakura smirked, lowering his lashes.
Marik easily slid off Bakura's lap and onto the piano stool, crossing his hands irritably and fixing Bakura with a glare. "Yes, and thanks to last night, they are now sore and painful. You didn't have to slam me into the mattress so fucking hard."
"I heard no complaints." Bakura's smirk widened into a grin. "Besides, you were worse when you were fucking me."
"I was drunk! I can barely even remember it." Marik screwed his face up, disgruntled.
Bakura merely laughed at him, wincing when Marik whacked his arm. "Ouch. Sadist. Fine, turn around; let me have a look at your back."
"I'm just fine, thank you," Marik sniffed primly, lifting his nose into the air.
Bakura shot him a sly look, smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, before he stood in one fluid motion and easily swept Marik off the stool and into his arms. A startled exclamation just made its way through Marik's lips as he was swiftly carried across the room, Bakura depositing him unceremoniously on the bed before he turned away and rummaged in a bag in a corner. Marik rubbed the back of his neck, brows furrowing together. "The fuck was that?"
"Only way I could get you to obey me," Bakura shrugged with a low chuckle. "You're too damn stubborn for your own good."
Marik growled. "You're a bastard."
"So you keep telling me." Bakura finally straightened, small tub in hand. "Aha! Got it. Now, are you going to sit still, or am I going to have to tie you down?"
Marik shot Bakura a dark, dark glare, his violet eyes narrowed into miniscule slits in his brown face.
Bakura, completely unfazed, strode back over to the bed and crawled up behind Marik, firmly spinning around and ignoring his protestations. "Just shut it, Ishtar. I'm helping you here."
"I thought I told you not to call me that?" Marik grumbled, instantly wincing when Bakura's hands once more brushed his burning scars. His eyes watered.
Bakura gave another dark chuckle. "Since when did I listen to you?"
Marik bit back a retort when one white hand snagged on a particularly painful scar, sucking in a breath and cursing under his breath. "Fuck. What are you doing back there, trying to kill me?"
"Don't exaggerate, Ishtar." Bakura kept working, ignoring his winces. "And calm down – this helped you before."
Marik hissed, arching uncomfortably when Bakura's cold hands rubbed into his scars. "Fucking hell, are you trying to mutilate me?"
"If you took better care of them," Bakura dug in particularly harshly, eliciting a harsh yelp from Marik, "Then it wouldn't hurt so much. These are bleeding again, idiot."
Marik growled. "Well, if someone hadn't felt the need to fuck me last night, I wouldn't be in so much pain."
"Don't blame this all on me," Bakura chuckled. "Just sit still and let me work."
Marik grumbled but reluctantly complied, digging his fingers into the mattress as Bakura carried on scratching away at his back. Bakura worked quickly but thoroughly, ensuring that the cream coated all of Marik's scars as he slid his fingers lower, lingering longer than was necessary against the warm tanned flesh. Marik hissed when Bakura started massaging, pain suddenly mixing with pleasure. His eyes slid shut.
Bakura chuckled, breath floating across the back of Marik's neck as he brushed golden locks out of his way. "Better?"
"You're a bastard." Marik couldn't help leaning back though, sighing when he felt Bakura's arms wrap around him. "How did you even get hold of that cream?"
"...Let's just say I acquired it." Bakura's tone was chilling, but softened somewhat by the gentle kiss he laid on the top of Marik's head.
Marik grinned. "Did you steal it just for me?"
Bakura growled in the back of his throat, keeping Marik securely facing forwards. His fingers dug into Marik's arms.
"You did, didn't you?" Marik spoke in something close to awe, his violet eyes widening. "You actually went out and stole for me."
Bakura's silence spoke volumes.
Marik shook his head, wide grin stretching his lips and splitting his face in half. "You must have liked me for a long time. It must have been torture."
Bakura finally moved, growling deep in his throat. His arms tightened around Marik, pulling him back into Bakura's chest, their legs tangling together on the mattress. Bakura's lips found Marik's ear, biting at his lobe before that low dark voice hissed, "It was a fucking nightmare, and you're such a fucking tease."
"I don't know what gives you that idea." Marik couldn't keep the amusement out of his tone, or the amusement out of his glimmer eyes when he turned to face Bakura, straddling his waist.
Bakura growled, his brown eyes flashing. "Would you like a reminder?"
Before Marik could respond his back was hitting the mattress again as Bakura leaned over him, brows furrowed, tone low and furious. Marik didn't even bother struggling as his wrists were pinned effectively. He suddenly found himself relieved that Bakura had treated his back; otherwise, this would be very painful.
Bakura sat on Marik's stomach, glaring down at him. "You fucking bastard. You just had to play with me, didn't you? Flouncing around in here with your stupid ignorance and ridiculous childishness, acting up and backchatting me with no damn respect. But then you had to go and be fucking cute."
"Cute?" Marik risked looking vaguely amused. "Not a word I ever expected to hear coming out of your mouth."
Bakura snarled, leaning over Marik and shutting him up with a kiss. "Fucking brat. Following me around everywhere, looking so damn enraptured whenever I played piano, turning up at that shitty concert and looking so damn happy. Then actually kissing me, and I thought hell, maybe for once something's going right, but of course you had to freak out."
"I thought you hated me," Marik remarked calmly.
Bakura glared. "Shut up."
Marik arched a brow but obediently remained silent, small thrills of happiness coursing through his veins at Bakura's every word.
"You, Ishtar, freaked out exactly like the idiot you are. At first it was just fun to wind you up, but then you showed up at the club and you were so drunk and so eager, how was I supposed to say no? Only, of course you had another fucking breakdown in the morning and stormed out." Bakura shook his head, breathing heavily. "And then you tried to leave! Damn idiot, as if I was ever going to let you."
Marik tilted his head to the side a little. "In my defence, you never exactly showed that you wanted me to say. The number of times you've beaten me up, I swear..."
"Only because you're so damn dense," Bakura retorted, smirk tugging at his lips. "In case you haven't noticed by now, I don't usually voluntarily spend time with anyone. You're lucky I didn't make your life a living hell from the second you walked in here."
"You mean that was you being nice?!" Marik grinned. "You have a lot to work on, Bakura."
Bakura rolled his eyes, collapsing down onto Marik's chest and closing his eyes. "Insolent little shit."
"That's me, bastard." Marik chuckled, wrapping his arms around Bakura to keep him in place, loving the warm weight pressing down on his skin. "So, for how long have you been in love with me, exactly?"
Bakura growled. "I never said that, Ishtar."
"You've pretty much just confessed your undying love to me," Marik pointed out with a grin. "It's only fair I get to know how long I've been driving you crazy for."
Bakura cracked open one eye, lifting his head just enough to send Marik a mischievous stare. "Only on the condition that you tell me just what has been going on in that bipolar head of yours. One minute you're kissing me, the next you're yelling at me. I haven't got a clue what you're thinking."
Marik laughed. "Fair enough. You first, though."
"...Fine." Bakura laid back against Marik's chest, closing his eyes with a long drawn out sigh. "I guess I was ... attracted ... from the moment you first showed me your scars. Instantly I thought, 'well, here is someone actually interesting for once.' Of course, I soon realised just how stupid you were and decided you were a lost cause."
Marik whacked him playfully on the shoulder. "Don't call me stupid, bastard."
"Idiot." Bakura grinned. "You did ask."
"You're still a bastard." Marik shook his head, mock-frowning.
Bakura merely chuckled darkly. "Calm down. It's your turn to spill now, Ishtar. What the hell is going on with you?"
"Well..." Marik fell silent, turning the question over in his mind carefully before answering. "I know I've probably seemed very confusing to you, but really, I've never hated you. I thought you hated me. You never did anything to make me think you actually liked you, so I figured I was just an irritation to you; that was what made me think I had to get out. Then we'd both be happier."
"Like I said," Bakura smirked. "You're an idiot."
Marik rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, putting two fingers under Bakura's chin and tilting his face up. "Hey, you should start being nicer to me if you want me to stick around."
"Like you'd leave now," Bakura scoffed, but the noise was quiet.
Marik smiled, leaning down to brush his lips with Bakura's. "I suppose. At least if I stay here, I have you to fetch and carry for me."
"Watch it, Ishtar." Bakura's eyes narrowed dangerously.
Marik shrugged, his eyes dancing. "Just get over here."
"Gladly." Bakura moved up Marik's body, kissing him gently before lying back down. Marik tucked him into his chest, pulling his fingers gently through Bakura's tangled white hair, closing his eyes. They lay together peacefully, occasionally exchanging kisses, and allowed the day to pass them by.
So, yeah, sorry for the lack of anything interesting in that chapter. I hope it still pleased you, such as it is, and I promise a return to plot on Thursday. Thank you for reading. - Jem