***"There is that great proverb—that until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter…Once I realized that, I had to be a writer…It's not one person's job. But it is something we have to do, so that the story of the hunt will also reflect the agony, the travail—the bravery, even, of the lions." ~Chinua Achebe, on "the danger of not having your own stories"

I don't know, I just really like the idea of Yami B getting ruthless, academic vengeance against the Pharaoh. The above quote does a good job of expressing *why* I like that idea. It also kinda explains one of the reasons I like Thiefshipping in general.***

Marik sat on his sofa, doing homework. He usually didn't bother with homework. He'd never cared about his GPA before, but something made him want to try a little harder this semester - if only to see what he was capable of.

He heard the door open and close behind him. Marik glanced over his shoulder to see Bakura walk in, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He crashed on the couch next to Marik and pulled a book of ancient cultures out of his bag.

"So?" Marik asked.

"So what?" Bakura half ignored him as he searched through the book.

"First day of classes. Do you hate it?"

A bit of grin decorated Bakura's face. "What if I did?"

Marik shrugged. "Well, I imagine you'd be slashing your books with that switchblade you stole from me if you hated it too much."

"You owed me a knife. I threw my last one in the pier after stabbing myself to help you." He flicked out the blade he kept in his pocket and licked the steel, as he had all those years ago, before stowing the knife again.

Marik ignored Bakura's knife-play. "You never told me if you liked your classes or not."

"You never told me if you liked my hair or not."

Marik's eyes shifted to the slurry of white bangs falling into Bakura's rust-colored eyes. "Idiot, you know I do."

Bakura turned back to the pages of his book with a satisfied look on his face. "I feel three-thousand years old when I'm on campus."

"I can't imagine why."

"Each time a professor assigned homework those little brats complained about having to do something on their first day. Stupid, idiot children. Don't they realize they have access to knowledge that once belonged only to priests and kings?"

"Or how lucky they are that they get to major in something other than The Life and Memories of the Pharaoh. I know how you feel." Marik smirked. "Does that mean you like school?"

Bakura smirked as well, a wicked look that reminded Marik of their Battle City days. "What if I told you that I've found one last way to defeat Atem?"

Marik laughed. "I think if you told me that I'd say 'oh no, here we go again'. How does a mortal defeat a spirit in Paradise?"

Bakura set his book to the side, pulling his knees up so he could use them as a rest for his arms. "Remember how I said history is written by the winners? True as that is, history is also written by the survivors. I'm alive; Atem is not."

"But Yugi is."

Bakura's smirk widened, showing teeth as white as his skin and hair. "That does make it more fun, doesn't it? I have no doubt I'll be seeing Motou in many of my classes in the upcoming years. I also have no doubt that every paper he can, he'll write about how glorious life was for the Pharaoh and his people. A rather lopsided history, don't you think?"

"Are you going to write about Kul Elna?"

Bakura frowned. "If I ever can. It'll be hard to prove what happened to my village. Aknadin did his best to erase that history even as it happened. Three-thousand years won't make it easier to find evidence; however, Kul Elna wasn't the only victim of that era. There was a reason that my village of tomb builders became thieves. There was a reason that they made the Millennium Items despite the cost. Kemet was on the verge of collapse. The Items pushed back the inevitable, but even during Atem's rule, the land was plagued by poverty, crime, and grief. There'll be evidence of that."

Marik bit his bottom lip. "I can probably help. There are texts, in the tomb in which I was raised. It'll be hard to get to them, even now, but I bet Rishid would help me if I asked him."

"I'd . . . appreciate that." Bakura went back to his book. "I could never beat him, in a game, but this . . ." Bakura grew thoughtful. "This, I can do. I'll write better essays now. In time I'll publish better articles. I couldn't destroy his soul, but I'll make sure the history of that time isn't a simple one."

"I think you will at that." Marik smiled, turning back to his book. "Yugi may have the luck of the gods on his side, but no one argues a point better than you."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment, though I hear the smirk in your tone."

"You're being paranoid." Marik winked at him.

They both continued to study. Marik managed to finish his assignments and peek at his books for his Tuesday classes by the time Bakura slammed his books shut and dropped them on the floor.

"I'm starving."

"I was thinking of taking a break, as well." Marik licked his lips.

Bakura didn't notice as he stretched and ruffled his hair to shake out some of the tension in his head. "What should we order for dinner?"

Marik crawled into Bakura's lap, holding each side of Bakura's face so he couldn't look anywhere but at Marik. "I was thinking about dessert, actually."

Bakura arched his white eyebrows. "Dessert before dinner?"

"I haven't had the chance to show you why I like this sofa so much."

Bakura scowled. "How many people have you fooled around with on this couch?"

Marik made his own face. "Are you kidding? I never brought anyone here. I never liked anyone enough to want them to know where I lived."

"Then where were you getting blow jobs?"

"Places," Marik snapped.

"What places? How come you haven't taken me to places?"

"You wouldn't want to go to places."

"For a hand job I might." Bakura snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, though he and Marik sat so close that the motion made his elbows brushed against Marik's chest.

"I'm trying to give you more than that here!"

"You still never told me what places."

Marik clenched his teeth. "Gods, you're so damn annoying. Sometimes at their place, and twice in a bathroom on the train. Are you fucking happy now?"

Bakura wrinkled his nose. "Train bathroom?"

"It really wasn't worth it either time. That's why I'd rather be here in my apartment, with my expensive furniture, and my boyfr—err, partner. Whatever."

Bakura laughed with his head thrown back. "You've been hanging around those other two morons for far too long."

Marik growled.

Bakura's laughter simmered into a low sound, almost a purr. "That reminds me – whatever happened to whispering 'I love yous' to me in the kitchen?"

"I didn't mean to say that," Marik hissed.

Bakura uncrossed his arms in order to draw on Marik's chest. He looked more serious than usual. "Oh? That's kinda a shame. It's what truly made me . . . real."

Marik looked down, staring at Bakura's white fingers tracing along Marik's shirt. "Then why didn't you ever say it back?"

Bakura shrugged.

Marik ran his fingertips down Bakura's cheek, nudging Bakura's chin up so that he looked at Marik. "What if I said it again?"

"Give it a try," Bakura whispered.

Marik swallowed. His throat felt dry, and his chest felt like flan. He had to let go of Bakura's face because he worried that his palms would sweat.

"Fine." Marik snorted, as if Bakura's answer had been a dare. He swallowed one last time.

As he said it, Bakura said it with him. "I love you."

He never knew how badly he wanted to hear it until he heard their voices mixing together in the living room. They looked away from each other. When Marik gathered his courage, he turned and looked down at Bakura. A slight flush betrayed Bakura's feelings.

"The short hair is starting to grow on me," Marik said, almost as a consolation.

"I usually wear it a little longer, but it grows fast so I always cut it short," Bakura said, trying to say anything matter-of-fact to clean his last sentence from the air.

Before Marik could think about it, his lips pulled at Bakura's. They shifted. Bakura scooted against the sofa arm and spread his clothed legs, and Marik leaned heavily against him.

Their clothes piled on top of their books.

Ryo woke to the feeling of Kurimu licking Ryo's hand. Ryo giggled, slipping his hand under the comforter to escape the puppy - who wasn't quiet a puppy any longer. "That tickles," Ryo muttered, trying to fall back asleep.

Kurimu yipped at Ryo. Since Kek got up at 6:00 am, Kurimu expected everyone to.

"Shhh. I'll get up soon." Ryo buried himself deeper into his pillow. It was Sunday, and that meant Marik and Bakura would stop by before noon for food and games, but Ryo didn't want to get up just yet.

A bang from the kitchen changed his mind. Ryo froze, waiting for the single bang to turn into a set of three. It didn't, but he heard another single bang of cupboards, followed by muffled sounds.

Gods, no. Gods, no. Gods please no.

Ryo held his breath as he prayed. He wasn't even sure which gods he prayed to. Any that would listen, he supposed. He didn't want to go through it again. They'd gotten back into their routines. Their lives were happy. How many times would he have to fight?

Ryo threw himself out of bed, holding his breath as he marched down the hallway. The puppy followed him. Ryo looked around, but didn't see Kek. He tried calling out, but his throat felt constricted, too tight for noise.

Another cluster of noises from the kitchen. Ryo burst in, expecting the worse, expecting cold, and dark, and a shadow god waiting for revenge.

Instead he saw Kek. He kept looking in cupboards and slamming them shut as he tried to stir something in a large, baking bowl at the same time.

"Shit, Kek! You scared the fuck out of me!"

"What'd I do?" Kek asked, paying more attention to his bowl than to Ryo. "How the hell do you make this look so easy?"

"Make what look easy? Y'know, it's kinda scary to hear banging in the kitchen now."

Kek laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. Zorc's long gone. Marik said all of Ishizu's nightmares went away as soon as we played our last game of Hide and Seek." Kek slammed the bowl on the counter near the stove, ladling a lumpy batter into a hot skillet. "Breakfast. You make it look like it's nothing, but this is fucking hard to do!"

Ryo focused on the mess on the counters and the flour on Kek's cheek. His chest relaxed; his heart stopped beating quite so hard. "You're . . . making me breakfast?"

Kek shrugged, a little bashful. "Yeah, I mean you make it every Sunday, but who ever cooks for you?"

"Kek." Ryo smiled. "That's so sweet."

Kek rolled his eyes. "Don't make me seem like a pansy. I just . . . y'know. Whatever, I guess I am a pansy, fucking humanity."

"Showing someone you care about them doesn't make you a pansy." Ryo snorted. "What would be easier? Holding hands in public, or stabbing someone attacking you?"

"Mmmm, stabbing. Talk dirty to me, you slut. Can I flip these yet?"

Ryo laughed, walking to the stove and staring at the half-done pancakes. "No. See all the bubbles? Wait until they pop and then flip them." Ryo looked at Kek. "Stabbing someone is easier, so who's stronger? A person that stabs another? Or a person that holds the hand of another?"

"Stronger or not, it was sexier when you were talking about stabbing." Kek teased as he flipped the pancakes.

Despite the lumpy batter, they looked like they would turn out rather well. Ryo started putting away the flour and wiping milk and eggshells off of his counter. "Next time I can show you what to do."

"I wanted to surprise you."

"You did."

Kek grabbed Ryo and kissed him. Ryo felt stupid, with a dirty dishcloth in his hand and his teeth unbrushed, but he couldn't resist kissing Kek in return as they stood barefoot in the kitchen. When Kek pulled away Ryo caught his breath and set the dishcloth down. "That was also a surprise."

Kek grinned, setting the first batch of pancakes on a plate and starting a second batch. "So . . . you haven't taken me on a date in awhile."

Ryo beamed. He'd been waiting for Kek to mention it. "I know, but I've been planning one. I even bought some things last week when you were at work. I'm glad you haven't found them yet!"

Now Kek looked surprised. "What did you buy?"

Ryo gave Kek a sly look. "Now that . . . is a secret."

"Tell me."

"Better flip your pancakes."

Kek did, but the moment he was done he turned back to Ryo. He teased Ryo's throat with little kisses. "What did you buy?"

Ryo giggled. "I hid everything in the guest room closet."

It was the guest room again, since Ryo and Kek had shared one room for months now. Kek gave Ryo's neck a few more kisses and a playful bite for punctuation before dashing off to the guest room.

"Your pancakes!" Ryo called after him.

"Dammit." Kek ran back and got the next batch going before disappearing again.

Ryo grinned and followed him, enjoying the excited look on Kek's face as he dug through the closet. He pulled down two sleeping bags and a box containing a tent. He looked at Ryo, and Ryo smiled.

"Camping?" Kek asked, a wide, boyish grin on his face.

"Well, you like the park, and going outside to walk Kurimu, so I thought camping would be a good date."

Kek threw Ryo onto the guest bed and attacked Ryo's mouth with eager kisses. Without warning, Kek jumped up and ran out the room.

"Hey!" Ryo called out.

"Pancakes!" Kek shouted as he ran down the hall.

Ryo laughed, putting away the sleeping bags and going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He was glad he did. As soon as he walked into the kitchen, Kek grabbed him and lifted him into the air, lavishing kisses on both Ryo's throat and mouth.

It was like getting lucky on top of a cloud. Bakura always made sure to spread a blanket over the leather so the fabric didn't stick to his sweat-slick skin. The over-stuffed cushions hugged Bakura's body as Marik pushed into him. Bakura couldn't do much more than hold on, his vocabulary reduced to Marik's name. He didn't want it to stop. Bakura kept his arms wrapped around Marik's back and away from his own erection in order to draw out the experience. Bakura allowed the rocking of Marik's body to sweep him away, a leaf caught in a gale.

Marik groaned. Bakura could tell that Marik wanted to move faster, but kept himself going at the same steady pace until Bakura was ready to finish. Bakura pressed his mouth against Marik's chest, kissing everything he could reach, and allowing the sensation of Marik's skin against his lips to bring him closer to the edge without direct stimulation. When he couldn't bear it, Bakura reached down and slipped his hand over his own shaft.

A relieved moan escaped from Marik when he noticed, his speed increasing. Marik thrust deeper and the change caused Marik's cock to strike Bakura's prostate until Bakura was incoherent with the pleasure of his orgasm. Bakura muttered something into Marik's chest afterward, but he wasn't sure what he'd said – although he feared it was something to do with Marik being amazing. The compliment spurred Marik to push even faster until his body went rigid with his own climax.

They lay together on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and curled together. Bakura slept, and dreamed, but the dreams were ordinary. He no longer had nightmares about the Darkness.

"Now blow out the fire." Ryo demonstrated by blowing out the flames eating at the marshmallow at the end of Ryo's stick. "Kek, your marshmallow is burning."

Kek shook his head and copied Ryo's actions. "How do you expect me to pay attention to my marshmallow, when you're blowing on yours? You're mouth is too sexy for that kind of distraction."

Ryo smirked. "That's okay. I'll just eat the whole bag by myself and you can sit there and watch."

Kek grabbed the bag of marshmallows and hid it behind his back so Ryo couldn't eat anymore. Ryo laughed, making a mock attempt to grab the bag and using it as an excuse to crawl into Kek's lap. The cold air stung at their faces, but the fire beside them fought off most of the chill. They sat on a plastic tarp with their sleeping bags zipped together to create one large, warm pouch for them to sit in as they toasted marshmallows.

"Hey, give me those." Ryo reached over Kek's shoulder.

"No." Kek dropped the bag onto the snow and pine needle carpet below them in order to slip his hands around Ryo's waist as he kissed Ryo's neck. "I have something sweeter for you."

"S'mores?" Ryo asked, a teasing smile on his face.

"No. Me."

"I don't know . . ." Ryo pretended to consider Kek's words. "You're pretty sweet, but are you sweeter than s'mores?"

"No, I'm not." Kek's kisses turned into little bites.

Ryo threw his head back to expose more of his neck for Kek to bite. In the firelight, his pure white hair glowed yellow and orange, making it look as if Ryo burned in flames. Kek pulled Ryo's shirt off with a single, well-practiced tug.

Ryo sat back, holding his bare chest with his arms and shivering. "It's cold."

"It won't be in a minute." Kek grinned, pulling Ryo tight so that his body heat could warm the other male and yanking their sleeping bag up higher around them.

Kek removed his own shirt, noticing how his nipples perked up as the cold air hit his chest. Ryo's looked the same, only their color was a soft, frosting pink, almost as pale as the rest of Ryo's body. Kek pulled Ryo's chest to his mouth, alternating between gentle nips of his teeth and quick flicks of his tongue. In less than a minute he had Ryo squirming and whimpering – the cold forgotten.

Kek yanked at the zipper to Ryo's jeans. He managed to unfasten them easy enough; unfortunately, he couldn't push them past Ryo's hips while Ryo sat in Kek's lap. They both had to stand to finish undressing, exchanging unhappy looks as the cold air invaded their bodies.

"I should have waited for spring to take you camping." Ryo crouched back down in the sleeping bag.

"No way. This is worth a little cold."

"Um . . ." Ryo smiled, sinking a little deeper into the sleeping bag. "We left the lube in the tent, didn't we?"

Kek scowled at the tent when he realized Ryo was right. Most of their things sat packed in a duffle bag inside the tent. It was only three feet away from their sleeping bags and fire . . . but that was a long, snow-covered three feet. Their shoes and socks were next to the fire, but Kek decided to race the distance.

"Shit, shit, shit," he swore with each step. The snow felt like teeth against the soles of his feet. The tent felt a little less cold. The sides prevented the wind from hitting Kek's bare ass, but without the fire, Kek's teeth chattered and his breath rose like dragon's smoke. He tore through their clothes, leaving them bunched up next to the duffle bag as he grabbed the lube and sprinted back to the sanctuary of fire, and sleeping bags, and Ryo's body heat.

"Ah! You're freezing!"

"Sorry." Kek snickered as he pressed the cold bottle of lube against Ryo's chest.

"You stop that right now!" Ryo tried to evade Kek's cold hands and the bottle of lube, but there wasn't anywhere for him to go zipped up in a sleeping bag.

"I have to warm it up before I use it on you."

Ryo pushed the bottle against Kek's body. "Use your own body heat."

Kek used his left arm to grab Ryo and pressed their bodies together. "We'll do it together."

Ryo giggled as he rubbed the cold away from Kek's shoulders. Once the bottle didn't feel like ice against their skin, Kek used it to help him prepare Ryo. They didn't have much of a system. Usually whoever grabbed the lube first ended up topping. Ryo winced at first, but Kek knew it was more from the cold of the gel than from Kek's fingers. After a minute, Ryo's expression changed to a soft, wanting stare that made Kek impatient to start. He forced himself to wait another moment, but when Ryo started shifting and spreading his legs as wide as the sleeping bag permitted, Kek knew he could begin.

Kek felt a different kind of shiver as he began to move inside Ryo's body. The wind picked up, blowing sparks from the fire into the air - tiny fireflies that died as soon as they landed against the snow. The scents of woodsmoke, pine-boughs, and snow clung to the air. Kek tasted salt as he licked his tongue along Ryou's collarbone. Ryo's whimpers grew into low, husky whispers of desire.

Kek looked down at Ryo. He could almost see the constellations reflecting in the dark pools of brown. Overwhelmed by a sudden swell of emotion, Kek bent low and kissed Ryo as they made love. He wanted to taste Ryo's mouth because Ryo tasted like the universe. Like everything Kek always wanted but couldn't have because it was outside and he'd been underground.

But now Kek was outside, beneath the constellations and pine canopy, on top of frozen dirt and snow. He was outside with everything he'd ever wanted, and he was tasting the universe.

***And we're done. My next longer story is going to be about zombies. A little campy for a premise, I know, but give me some credit. It won't be virus type zombies, some asshole nobody tomb-keeper is going to take the Millennium Tome and use Shadow Magic. So at least I'm trying to keep the physics legit for a story in the YuGiOh universe. Anyway, thanks in advance for reading and reviewing all and any of my stories.***