***Disclaimer: Citrus.***

"Let's go drink some tea," Marik suggested.

"We have tea here."

"Yeah but I'm bored."

Bakura kukuku'd low in his throat, flicking the stray white hairs away from his face. "Didn't we have a similar conversation last week?"

Marik opened his closet door, scanning the clothing hanging in meticulous order. "Yeah, and if I remember correctly, I went and ate disgusting, greasy mystery meat on a stick with you."

"And if I remember correctly, I gave you both a rim job and a blow job to show my appreciation."

Marik glanced over his shoulder, grinning. "Oh yeah. I think I remember that as well."

"You ought to, I lost count of how many gods you called out to before I finished."

"Yes, that was a nice night."

"Soooo . . ."

Marik went back to the closet. "So, do you want to get some tea?"

"No."

"I won't make you do something you don't want to." Marik chose the outfit he wanted and laid the clothes over a chair near the closet. "Although, it's a shame, because I was going to return the favor you gave me last time."

Bakura smiled, hearing what he wanted to hear. "On second thought. I am a little thirsty."

"Yes, but you don't want to go out, so I'll brew tea here."

"No, no. You want to go out. Far be it for me to keep you pent up inside."

Marik shrugged. "Changed my mind. I have chai here. That's my favorite."

"Oh shut up, and let's go."

Marik stepped closer to Bakura. "Beg me to go."

Bakura marched up to Marik, stopping an inch from his face. "I don't beg, Ishtar."

"We'll see about that." Marik slipped his hand down Bakura's pants. His fingers easily found Bakura's cock, already growing from mention of blow jobs and rim jobs.

Bakura hitched against Marik's body. "Fucker, that's cheating."

"There's no cheating in the games we play, Bakura."

A groan muffled out of Bakura's closed mouth as Marik worked his fingers up and down Bakura's shaft.

"Good, huh?"

Another soft groan.

"Wouldn't it be better if it was my mouth? And all you have to do it say a few nice words, Bakura."

"Fucker, dirty fucker."

Marik chuckled. "Well, that's a start, but I bet you can get even nicer."

Bakura bit his lip, a lusty growl rumbled from his throat. "Fuck it. Fine." Bakura netted his fingers into Marik's luminous hair. "Marik." He half-moaned half-growled. "Marik. Please . . . let's go . . . ahh . . . tea . . . oh fuck. Fuck. Don't stop. Please don't stop. Please Marik."

Marik's expression unraveled as he watched Bakura writhe against him. He grabbed Bakura's wrist with his free hand and moved it to his own belt line. "Do me, too."

Unable to argue, Bakura pulled at Marik's pants until he got them unbuttoned and zipped down and was stroking Marik as well. They bucked into each other's hands until both were spent and out of breath. They stumbled to the bed and fell down.

"Nap, then tea," Marik muttered.

Bakura nodded in agreement, already falling asleep.