***Aww, I like this one. Anyway, jusy a quick thanks to everyone who reviews and reads this.***

Marik woke up to soft kisses against his throat. He moaned at the sensation, allowing his eyes to blink open until he felt awake. "Bakura?"

"Hmm?"

"When do you ever wake up before me?"

"Today."

Marik stretched and leaned his head back into the pillow.

Bakura poked at his ribs. "Get up."

Marik glanced out the window near their bed. "It's still dark outside."

"Yes, I know. That's the point." He gave Marik's throat a few more kisses before he crawled out of the bed.

Curiosity drove Marik to his feet. He tossed on some jeans and a old tank before he stumbled through their apartment in search of Bakura.

Bakura snuck behind him in the hallway, wrapping a silk blindfold over Marik's eyes. Marik froze and clawed the cloth out of his face.

"Bakura, I can't stand the dark!"

Bakura turned Marik around so that they faced each other. He held each side of Marik's face and pressed their foreheads together. "Yeah, should have thought that out better. I just wanted this to be a surprise."

Marik dropped the blindfold to the carpet and looked at Bakura. "What's a surprise?"

"Telling your ruins the surprise." He gestured with his head. "Forget the blindfold. Let's go."

"It's too early."

Bakura growled and grabbed Marik's hand, dragging him outside and to Marik's motorcycle.

"Where are we—"

Bakura spun around and pushed his lips over Marik's. Marik turned the kiss into several.

"Trust me," Bakura whispered.

That was the hardest thing for Marik to do – with anyone. He thought of all those years ago, on a blimp and fighting his alter ego. Marik sighed and climbed behind Bakura. By the time they stopped the sky was pale gray with the first streaks of yellow stretching out into the open horizon.

Marik looked around. "Okay . . . where are we?"

"Nowhere." Bakura shrugged. "Near the Valley of Kings, but essentially nowhere."

Marik exhaled towards the sky, trying not to snap at Bakura or call him an idiot. "Why are we here?"

"Because this used to be my favorite piece of nowhere to sit and think." He reached into the side bags on the bike and pulled out an old blanket, laying it on the dirt near their feet.

He also grabbed a knapsack and sat with his legs crossed, patting the spot next to him as he unpacked. He pulled out boiled eggs, cheese, grapes, bread, and kefir. The last thing he pulled out looked oddly like a smashed blackberry pie.

"Dammit," Bakura cursed when he saw the pie.

Marik sat beside Bakura, smiling. "Did you make that?"

Bakura frowned. "They were about to go off anyway."

"Bakura . . . did you just bring me on a picnic?"

"No," Bakura growled. "I was hungry, so I brought food."

Marik looked at the sky again. The first slice of true sunlight breaking over the desert. "You brought me out here to watch the sun rise."

"I couldn't sleep!" Bakura protested. "And I was bored."

"Stop it." Marik pushed him against the blanket. Their eyes met. "It's okay . . ." Marik paused. They'd both spent so many years dancing around their feelings that trying to organize the storm of thoughts ravaging Marik's brain at that moment was near impossible. "It's okay . . . to want this." He stared at Bakura another moment. "I want to do stuff like this, too."

"I smashed the pie."

Marik brushed his nose against Bakura's nose. "We'll just eat it out of the tin."