Chapter 5: Flesh

Marik wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he answered the door at 2:23 AM.

The knock had been loud and obnoxious enough to drag him from the comfortable throes of sleep and into the painful realm of reality. His head throbbed with the affects of the alcohol he had consumed during the evening, though it wasn't as intense as it could have been if he woke up in the later hours of the morning. The massage Bakura had given also helped to sooth his otherwise sore muscles.

The knocking grew impatient and repetitive, implying it was Bakura ready to break the door down, but the hairs on the back of his neck rose at the possibilities of his night visitor. He was compelled to grab the broom on the way to the door and hold it tight as he unlocked it.

Though instead of confronting his worst nightmare, Bakura stood at the door, drenched in a disturbing amount of blood. The stench of smoke clung to him as well, making bile rise in the back of Marik's throat. The broom slipped out of his grasp as he gawked at the other man, no words coming from his mouth.

Bakura didn't barge in as he usually did. He stood still, a calculating look across his pale features, as if waiting for a response.

Finally, after a solid half-minute of staring, Marik stuttered, "What the fuck?"

The other man cocked an eyebrow before a sardonic smirk rose on his lips and he let out a bark of a laugh, causing Marik to nearly flinch.

"Is that all you have say? You don't look nearly as horrified as I'd had hoped."

If anything, Marik looked slightly disgusted, though horror didn't cross him. As Bakura tried to move in, Marik bristled and put a hand on his chest to keep him back.

"Take off your fucking shoes. You're not tracking that shit in my apartment."

Bakura scoffed and kicked off his shoes, leaving them by the door. Marik briefly realized that despite his shoes being covered in red liquid, none was tracked on the carpet outside the door. With growl, Marik slammed the door shut and turned to Bakura.

"I was sleeping."

Bakura gave him another curious yet amused look. "I can tell. Your hair is hideous."

Marik sneered. "So is yours," he grunted, looking up at the crimson-spattered hair. He curled his nose in disgust and grabbed Bakura's scrawny wrist, pulling him towards the bathroom. He plugged the sink and filled it with cold water before turning around and forcefully tugging Bakura's shirt off. The water ran pink when he threw it into the water.

"Put your pants in there," Marik grunted before he turned towards the shower and switched it on. Steam quickly filled the room as the stream of water heated up. Bakura continued to look on with some sort of sick amusement, to which Marik purposely ignored. He was more annoyed than anything. He shoved the other man unkindly into the shower stall before stripping and getting in to join him.

It was quiet save for the echo of the water hitting the tiles. As he turned the other man around and squeezed shampoo into his hair, Bakura finally spoke.

"You don't seem very surprised. I was hoping for more of a reaction." He sounded regretful.

Marik merely scoffed and began scrubbing at Bakura's hair. "What? You showing up covered in blood? Should I be surprised?."

"Most people who consider that to be quite strange, and dare I say, terrifying."

"Well, I'm not like most people, am I?"

Bakura sighed woefully. "Absolutely no fun."

Marik tugged at the other man's hair forcefully in response, which coaxed a growl (of pain or pleasure, he couldn't tell). Once the thick locks were soapy enough, he shoved Bakura under the spray.

"...My ex was a bit on the crazy side." Marik finally muttered as he ran his fingers through the the other male's hair, de-tangling the mess as he went. "So I'm used to it. It's no surprise to me."

"Apparently crazy enough to dub someone showing up bloody on your doorstep as normal?"

Marik chuckled at this, though it came it rather humorless. "Yes... he was."

Bakura let out a snort of disbelief. "Sounds like my kind of guy."

The tanner of the two sighed and grabbed his conditioner and began scrubbing at his white locks. "I doubt it."

"Care to elaborate?"

"What is this, 'Marik talks about his past' day?" He grunted, tugging at Bakura's hair again. "I think I've told you enough when I shared that information about my father earlier."

Bakura spun around and languorously draped his arms around the other male's shoulders, giving him a sultry gaze. "I find you interesting."

"Thanks." Marik replied dryly, unamused. He pushed the arms off of him and spun Bakura around again. "Stay still. Your hair isn't completely clean yet."

"I think red suits me quite well, though."

Marik snorted, but he had to agree, red was a good color for Bakura. It definitely brought out his abnormally colored eyes. "It does."

"Did seeing me covered in blood give you dirty thoughts?"

"You wish."

"I don't wish. I know."

"Obviously–" Marik tugged violently at a knot, "–You don't. You may get a hard-on for being drenched in blood, but I don't. Do I even want to know why you were covered in it in the first place?"

"Are you sure you're ready to ask such a question, my dear Marik?"

"...No. Forget I asked."

"Maybe I will, if you tell me more about this rather interesting ex of yours." Bakura reasoned, glancing back at him cunningly.

Marik scowled. Oh how he hated thinking about things he would prefer were left buried six feet under. "Fine. As long as you agree to stop being an annoying asshole."

"I can't make any promises."

He rolled his eyes and shoved the other under the water again to rinse out the conditioner suds. "I met him when I was still in High-School, some shit happened, then we broke up."

"Now, now Marik, you know that's not what I meant," Bakura purred as he turned around and put his hands on the tanner man's hips. "I said elaborate."

"I don't know why you're so curious. You normally don't give a shit."

Bakura raised a brow. "Maybe I feel like giving a shit right now," he replied. "It'll make you feel better if you tell me."

Marik frowned and reached over to grab the body wash.

"'Passionfruit'?" Bakura asked as he read the label. "You're so fucking gay."

Marik swatted him in the chest and squirted the thick gunk onto a washcloth and began washing the other man's lanky chest. "Do you want to hear about my ex or not?"

"Entertain me with your stories." Bakura purred.

"His name was Asad[1]. I met him when I was in High-School. He looked creepy as fuck when I first saw him, the way he stared at everyone like they were a piece of meat... and yet I felt compelled to engage with him."

"Love at first sight, huh?" Bakura said in a honeyed manner.

"Shut up. It wasn't like that. There was something else about him... he was incredibly alluring and it excited me."

"Teenage hormones?"

"What did I just tell you to do?" Marik snapped. "Anyway, he didn't approach me first, but he watched me when I walked home from school. He would only appear when Ryou left to go down his street and had to leave me to finish the walk alone. After about a week, I challenged him, figuring he was stalking me or some shit – he didn't exactly deny it, but me being me at the time, I didn't really care."

"Weren't very smart back then either, hmm?" Bakura asked mockingly, earning himself a smack to the face with a soapy washcloth.

"Our sexual relationship was almost immediate. It drew me in; he just gave off an aura of eroticism without even trying. Honestly, within only weeks, I would have done anything for him. But I should have seen the signs..." He sighed. "He was incredibly controlling. He didn't like Ryou, he didn't like my family – he didn't like anybody hanging around me. He made this very clear, and yet I did nothing about it, until one day he demanded I stopped being friends with Ryou. It was difficult, but like I said, I was ready to do anything.

"My already shitty grades dropped. It's not like I wasn't smart, I just began to miss school to hang out with him. Sometimes I'd go days without showing up if it meant hanging around Asad. Which probably wasn't particularly healthy of me since I was only a teenager at the time and he... well, he didn't exactly live in a small, dingy apartment. He lived in a really nice flat downtown, and it was full of luxurious items, and yet I never saw him work a day in his life. It wasn't long after that I realized he was..." Marik suddenly paused. "I found something out that I really didn't want to know. From there, it just all went downhill. He was incredibly violent and into some illegal stuff. There were times he would come home drenched in blood, or had tattered clothes. At first it was shocking of course, but then I grew quite used to it and just cleaned up any mess he made like the obedient bitch he had me become.

"He also kept me from seeing my friends, my family. I remained under his constant supervision, sometimes not even leaving his flat." Marik scoffed. "I was willing to do it at first – he was so intoxicating and manipulative. But as time went on it got worse. If I so much as spoke out of turn, there were consequences. Yet he spoke of loving me, of worshiping my body, of keeping me forever. It was suffocating. I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't even care about the addicting sex, I just wanted out. So I did something rather... drastic and took my leave. Haven't seen him since."

Marik wasn't expecting him to listen so well. It was nice to get the story off his chest, since only Ryou knew how extensively abusive Asad had been, and even then he hadn't known all the horrors. Still, he would have preferred not saying anything at all. His past wasn't a topic he liked to dwell on.

Bakura ran his hands up Marik's front. "You've had such a traumatic past," he purred quietly. "No wonder you're so fucked up."

Marik scoffed as he threw the washcloth aside and let Bakura touch his body. "Oh yeah? What about you?"

"Hm? What about me?" Bakura asked, running his thumbs over the other male's collarbone.

"...You're such a mystery," Marik murmured, staring at Bakura with intensity, his fingers coming up to touch a pale cheek. He knew next to nothing about this man except for his unbearable personality and hot body.

Bakura turned away from the tender gesture, appearing to be uncomfortable. "I prefer it that way. Not all of us just go around spewing our history." He scoffed.

"You were the one that pressured me into sharing. I thought you found me interesting?" He asked teasingly.

"Well, now that I've learned all there is about you, You're not longer interesting," Bakura responded woefully, pretending to move away.

Marik captured him in his arms and pushed him against the tiled interior of the shower stall. "Oh? I'm sure I can keep you interested." He purred, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

"Oh yeah?" Bakura smirked, letting himself be pinned by the other man. "Care to elaborate how? I'm dying to know."

Marik grazed his nails down Bakura's front, drifting lower and lower across the pallid skin. "What if I fucked you against the shower wall?" He asked in an almost innocent tone.

Marik could feel the shivers of anticipation pass through Bakura. "Tempting, but not enough to keep me interested... maybe if you added a bit more details to your claim, I might be willing to stick around."

A hum escaped the man as he continued touching Bakura's body, his fingers trailing circles across his hip bones. "What if I went nice and slow, dragging it out, torturing you. You would be so close... but never close enough. You would demand and beg for me to go faster."

Bakura's eyes were lit with lust at the proposition Marik gave him. "I like the sound of this much better. How hard would you take me in the end to finish me off?"

"Until your ass is raw."

Bakura's tongue came out to trail across his pink lips, making Marik want to moan in anticipation. He always knew how to use his tongue, even if it wasn't on him in some lewd manner. Marik leaned against the other, feeling the beginnings of an erection poking against his hip.

"Excited already? That eager to get fucked?" He asked the paler man, his hand sliding between their bodies to jerk him off. Bakura let out an airy groan, the smirk staying on his lips as Marik slid his palm up and down his shaft. He rolled his hips, forcing his cock against the soft flesh of Marik's hand.

"What can I say?" Bakura asked, tipping his chin back. "I love to fuck."

"I know. You have a libido to match Asad's" Marik scoffed as he yanked at the ever-growing erection.

"I'd say so do you," Bakura replied huskily as he leaned in to press his lips to Marik's wet neck. He groaned, tipping his chin to the side and allowing Bakura to graze his lips and teeth across the sensitive flesh.

Push up to my body

Sink your teeth into my flesh

Marik hissed as Bakura violently bit into his neck. He shuddered, finding it to be intoxicating and gratifying. He panted and squeezed at Bakura's cock, eliciting a moan of pleasure from him, channeling his pleasure that Bakura's mouth so erotically provided.

Bakura pulled away, and Marik saw the flecks of blood around the edge of his lips. He slapped a hand over his neck, finding there was a bleeding wound.

"Are you some sort of vampire?" He mocked.

"I'm just a sadist." Bakura purred as he took Marik's wet cock, which had grown hard. "And it seemed you liked it."

Marik scoffed and took his hand away from Bakura. "Turn around." He commanded in a tone that visually made Bakura shiver. He turned around obediently and shamelessly spread his legs, looking back at Marik with a wanton expression.

Marik shoved the other harshly against the tiles and put his hand between his legs, massaging the flesh behind his testicles before moving towards the thick ring of muscle that made him moan.

Get undressed

Taste the flesh

Bakura rolled his hips back, not holding back his verbal appreciation and praise as Marik rubbed his fingers against the muscles, forcing them to relax under his ministrations.

"Don't prep me." Bakura growled huskily.

"I'm going to prep you. We don't even have lubricant in here."

He hissed, throwing a glare back at Marik. It faltered when Marik shoved a finger through the barrier and into the tight heat.

"You know I love the pain." Bakura continued to persuade Marik, purposely clenching his muscles in protest. "Just take me now. I'm not going to wait for your dick."

Marik pulled his finger out and huffed. "You're fucking ridiculous. Don't bitch at me later when I tear you apart."

Bite into me harder

Sink your teeth into my flesh

Bakura sneered and stared back eagerly, grinding his ass against Marik's cock to further convince him. It worked, since Marik could hardly hold back anymore. He spread the other man's cheeks and pushed himself in. There was a grunt from Bakura as Marik forced his way past tense muscles and into the tight warmth. The tanner male let out a pleased sigh while Bakura balled his hands into fists.

Marik decided that he didn't want to wait for Bakura to get used to the feeling. He dug his nails harshly into the flesh of Bakura's ass and began thrusting at a quick speed, giving no time for preparation. Bakura howled in a wanton manner and pressed his cheek against the side of the stall.

Pass the test

Taste the flesh

"Fuuuck yes..." Bakura groaned as Marik slammed into him. Marik could agree, though he merely just grunted and panted as he shoved in and out, the friction caused by lack of lubrication bringing more pleasure and heat.

After he set up a rhythm, he suddenly remembered he was supposed to be going slow to torture the other man, so he began to purposely slow down, moving in an out at a languid speed. This caused irritated growls to rise from Bakura, but Marik continued. Even if it was almost painful going at such a speed, it was worth it to know Bakura was suffering as well.

"Go faster!" Bakura commanded, wiggling his ass against Marik's length again. He was obviously displeased with the change in speed, given the way he was glaring venomous daggers at the tanner man.

"I don't think so~" Marik purred, enjoying Bakura's irritation.

Suddenly, Bakura pulled away, forcing Marik's cock to slid out of him. He turned around and faced the other man, his expression dark. "I thought I said I don't want to wait for your dick," he growled.

Marik rolled his eyes. "I've spoiled you. I was just messing around, you know."

Bakura put his arms around the others shoulders and wrapped one of his legs around Marik's waist, licking his lips. He gave the other a look of both impatience and seduction. "You better fuck me right now, Ishtar,"

Marik shuddered at the tone, pinned him against the wall again and hoisted both his legs around his waist. He scoffed at the demands, though he couldn't argue that he wanted nothing more than to fuck Bakura's brains out.

Hold me up against the wall

Give it till I beg [2]

He shoved his way in again, this time resuming with a quicker speed. Bakura moaned in appreciation, dropping his head on Marik's shoulder. Marik groaned as his cock slid in and out of the heat, the sensations were so intoxicating he could thrust into the other until the end of his days. His legs tightened around his waist, grunts of pleasured pain echoing along with the spatter of water against the tiles.

"Yesss, Ishtar, harder~" Bakura moaned before letting out a guttural groan in his ear, his nails digging into Marik's scarred back out of both desperation and pleasure.

Marik was more than willing to oblige as he pushed his hips forward with extra power, slamming into Bakura, Once he had picked up a reasonable pace, he purposely aimed for the other man's prostate. He knew he hit it when Bakura threw his head back and nearly yelled in pleasure.

"Right there Ishtar~ yeah, that's right~" He purred huskily, his mouth hanging open, showing off his abnormally long canines.

The two continued this violent, heated rhythm. Marik was sure to aim for that same spot, bringing Bakura more and more gratification. His moans fueled his actions, making his body hotter and hotter. He gazed at Bakura, at his pleasure, his perfect pink lips and intense, crimson eyes that were glazed over in pleasure. Even in the throes of sex, Bakura still managed to have a sardonic smirk across his face.

Marik leaned his forehead against Bakura's, finding his intense gaze incredible addicting and intoxicating. It stole all of his attention and drew him in like a moth to a light, and when he got close enough, it burned so wonderfully. His whole body was hot, his sweat draining away with the water that streamed down his body. He could feel Bakura's breath against his lips, his nails in his back, his clenching heat suffocating his cock. Their lips hovered inches away from each other, their noses grazing, their eyelashes threatening to tangle.

With a furious moan, Bakura pushed their lips together in a violent kiss. The collision of their lips hurt, but Marik found himself welcoming it. It was an uncontrollable exchange laced with an intoxicating combination of lust and malice. Bakura's teeth dug into his lip until Marik was sure it was bleeding before he shoved his tongue through the barrier, boldly demanding entry.

Bakura's orgasm was more sudden than usual. He shamelessly moaned into Marik's mouth as cum covered their stomachs before it washed away. His inner muscles tensed, his heat becoming unbearably tight. With a grunt, Marik reached his end, filling Bakura with hot semen. The two males lingered there for a moment before they untangled with weak knees and languid movements. Marik switched the shower off and stepped out, drying himself off with haste. He left his hair damp as he discarded the towel and headed into the bedroom.

The session had worn him out again. He flopped down into the unkempt bed and stared at Bakura, who stood dripping wet in the doorway of the bathroom. He had a strange and unreadable expression on his face, though Marik brushed it off.

"Go dry off and come sleep with me." Marik told the other man, though he knew it was futile to suggest it since Bakura never stayed the night. He rolled over in bed and listened to the quiet movements of the other male, before they ceased completely. Curious, Marik called out for Bakura, but he gained no response.

The man had left.

Big surprise. He thought as he rolled back into position. As he laid in the gloom, a nightlight in the corner casting a small stream of light, he reached up and tenderly brushed his bruised lip with his finger.

That was the first time they had ever kissed.

...

He groaned as he rose up off the bed the next morning and padded into the bathroom. He noticed Bakura's clothes were in the sink still as he answered the call of nature. He snorted, not even surprised anymore, and left the bathroom in search of some sort of breakfast. He settled for a couple of burnt scrambled eggs with ketchup while he watched the news. He vaguely paid attention to the happenings of the world before his text tone went off. He grabbed the dying phone off the coffee table and saw there was a message from Yugi.

Yugi: [Hey u up]

Marik: [Yeah, I have to go to work this morning]

Yugi: [Wanna meet up for coffee first]

Marik: [The usual place?]

Yugi: [Yup]

Yugi: [8ish?]

Marik: [Sure I'll meet you there]

Marik sighed. He supposed he would have to leave earlier than he anticipated. He set the plate of half finished eggs on the coffee table and went back to his bedroom to get dressed. He threw on clean boxers, his work jeans, a tanktop and a jacket. He checked his phone and with a curse realized he would be late. He scrambled into his shoes, grabbed his wallet and keys, and swiftly left the apartment without a second thought.

Despite his tardiness, he made it to the coffee shop rather quickly. It was a pleasant little place, though it was commonly used by Americans staying in Japan, so he could only partially understand the people talking around him. He spotted Yugi at a table in the corner, who waved him over.

"I got you dark roast," he said as he scooted a cup towards Marik.

Marik took the cup with a mumbled thanks.

Yugi gazed at Marik curiously as he drank, surprised when he didn't even flinch as the hot liquid touched his tongue. "Marik? Are you okay?" He wondered.

Marik's eyes suddenly focused and he jumped a little, as if he forgot his surroundings entirely. "What? Oh, I'm fine." He lied. "Just tired this morning. The coffee will help." He then took another sip, this time flinching as it touched his tongue.

Yugi smiled sympathetically. "You seem distant. Did you have a busy night?"

"Sort of." Marik muttered, his thoughts turning to the previous night. It was a little hazy, since he had been drunk for part of it. "A bit hungover from drinking."

"You need to slow down a bit, Marik. It can't be good to be drinking as much as you do."

"I don't do it that much."

Yugi looked skeptical. "Marik..." He sighed. "I worry about you."

"Well don't." He grunted, drawing circles in the table with his index finger. "I'm fine." He repeated.

Again, Yugi didn't look so convinced, but he knew Marik well enough not to push it. "Okay, fine. But I'm open ears if you want to talk." He told him.

"I'll remember that."

He smiled then. "So... Hear about Ryou?"

Marik stared absently at his cup. "Yeah... I did." He replied stoically.

Yugi looked as if he regretted asking. "He just told me last night, over text." He added. "He told me he told you over the phone, but he was worried because you didn't found very happy."

Ah... Ryou was always good at seeing my lies, Marik thought to himself. "I was just tired." He lied. "I'm happy for him."

"Marik... –"

"–I am!" He snapped. "Ryou is my best friend. I want him to be happy."

"Even at the expense of your own?"

The question weighed heavily on Marik's shoulders. He didn't look up from his drink. As he willing to sacrifice his own happiness and his own comfort to remain being Ryou's friend, even when he gets married and began a family?

There was no question in Marik's mind.

"Yes. It doesn't matter what I feel for him, or what I used to feel, I can't change the fact he's straight, and that he's with Miho." Marik replied. " All I want for him is happiness... I just have to grow up and deal with his decision."

Yugi nodded slowly and played with the tip of his straw.

Marik sighed. "I was such an idiot. I could barely congratulate him yesterday. He probably thinks I'm angry with him." He muttered. "I should give him a call tonight... Maybe invite him out next week."

"I think that would be best." Yugi replied with a smile.

The two spoke for a bit longer before they went their separate ways. After speaking with his friend, he felt a little better. He went through the day mulling over how he would apologize to Ryou, though occasionally his thoughts drifted to another certain white-haired man...

After he timed out and drove home, he found he was growing impatient, so he got his phone out to give Ryou a call, hoping he wouldn't be busy with Miho, only to see he had received a text from an unknown number.

He sighed and opened the message. His eyes widened with shock. The unknown individual had sent him a picture of a himself with no other context. Marik was met with a deranged grin and spiky hair as the man looked into the camera with a crazed and hungry expression...

It made him feel sick.

Growing frightened, he recognized his own apartment in the background. For a split moment, his mind whirled as he wondered if he should confront him or run away...

His feet acted on their own as he rushed up to his flat. The door was shut, but unlocked as he threw it open with ease. Inside, the whole apartment was a wreck. Miscellaneous objects such as lamps and magazines laid in disarray, while furniture had been knocked over. His couch lay on its back, while all the chairs were scattered about the kitchen and living room. The television was cracked and emitting small sparks, while the fridge door was open and food had been scattered about the kitchen.

If he hadn't received the text, he would have assumed it was a burglary. He was livid, but it was overcome by terror. He was in trouble. He knew his very life was at risk if he lingered too long. He had his phone and wallet–he could leave and stay at a hotel, or perhaps with Yugi and Anzu. He began to back away, but behind him the door slammed shut of seemingly its own accord.

He could feel hot, moist air on the side of his neck, and someone emitted a low cackle, causing the hair on the back of his neck to rise.

A voice, harsh and grating, yet smooth as a forest brook on a summer afternoon, whispered near his ear, "Long time no see."

Marik clenched his hand into a fist and with a furious yell, he whipped around, his fist swinging into open air. His eyes darted to and fro as he desperately tried to spot the person he hated most in the world.

"Oops. Too slow." The voice hissed mockingly.

He felt pressure around both his arms, holding him in place. He struggled and growled, terrified tears threatening to spill.

"Hayaty... I'm so hurt. It's been so long since we've seen each other, and you greet me with malice... This simply won't do."

Suddenly, there was a crack as something hard collided with the back of his head. Pain overwhelmed him and he helplessly slithered to the ground, his head spinning and vision going blurry.

"There we go." The other said simply. The man's outline was fuzzy as Marik looked up at him with an unsteady gaze.

"Now, be a good little bitch and sleep for me." His grating voice soothed. Marik fought to stay awake, but a strange feeling came over him, making each limb light and tingly. He slowly closed his eyes, darkness overtaking him.

o o o

Bakura decided to walk to Marik's apartment rather than just phasing there like he usually did. His feet moved sluggishly along the pavement, his hands shoved in his jean pockets. He was deep in thought, his mind full of confusing and human-like emotions. He regretted his actions the previous night.

Not killing Marik's father. No, he quite enjoyed sending the man to Hell. It was something else that was bugging him, grating on his mind like an annoying fly buzzing at his ear. He had kissed Marik. He never kissed anyone in his centuries of life. Kisses were too intimate, too human. They were a form of expressing love and compassion, emotions a creature like him could never begin to fathom.

Yet he expressed with all the same through that clumsy kiss. He stuck his tongue out in disgust as he walked up the stairs to Marik's flat. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Marik, but he knew he wouldnt be good. If he was lucky, the other man didn't think anything of it. But Marik was very perceptive, and there was a chance he would ask about it, or initiate another kiss, something Bakura did not want.

Right?

Bakura's thoughts cut off as he suddenly caught a whiff of something nasty. It made his nose curl and fangs tingle with hostility. The scent was coming from Marik's apartment, making him rush to the door and force it open. He was met with an absolute mess and the sickening stench of blood from the stain on the carpet. He knew this was Marik's blood.

The scent was almost overwhelmed however by a stronger one. One he thought he had merely caught whiffs of beforehand, but never thought anything of it. He cursed himself for not realizing what this scent was before:

A demon.

Don't try lubeless anal sex at home, kids.

[1] Asad is an Arabic name meaning lion. I thought it was an appropriate name for Yami Marik.

[2] Flesh by Simon Curtis