*** Idea suggested by Yami-the-Dark***
Bakura blamed the caffeine and sugar for his mood, and the fact that he'd already eaten breakfast but had yet to get out of bed. He and Marik talked of nothing and then more nothing as they ate, but once they finished, and Marik tried to get up to put their trays away, Bakura grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to the bed.
"Come on, Bakura, I have to do dishes."
"Later. I want to thank you for breakfast." Bakura unbuttoned Marik's shirt and pants.
Marik's lavender eyes watched as Bakura undressed him. A smile tugged at the corner of Marik's lips. When Marik wore nothing but the smile, Bakura reached over and grabbed the bottle of honey from his breakfast tray – he preferred the taste of honey over maple for pancakes and waffles. Bakura drizzled the golden-brown liquid over Marik's golden-brown chest.
"Ug, Bakura, I'm going to be sticky."
"We'll take a shower after."
"Will we do the dishes after as well?"
"Shut up and like what I'm doing to you."
Marik chuckled. "Out of any other lover's mouth that would sound atrocious."
"Are you saying you don't like this—" Bakura punctuated his sentence with a slow lick up Marik's chest.
Marik bit his bottom lip to prevent the moan trying to creep out of his throat.
"Or this?" Bakura wrapped his lips around Marik's berry-colored nipple and began to suck the honey off of Marik's skin.
Bakura locked his dark eyes on Marik's gaze as he licked the golden mess from Marik's chest. Marik couldn't hold out against Bakura's tongue and stare, and soon soft, pouty ahhhs exhaled from Marik's mouth.
Bakura took the bottle in his hands again. He used one finger to hold Marik's erection straight up, and allowed the honey to pour down Marik's length. The syrup folded on top of Marik's tip like strips of gold ribbon that melted as they touched Marik's hot skin.
A little, stifled squeal slipped out of Marik's mouth; the honey felt cold.
Bakura started from the bottom and worked his way up. Marik kept himself shaved, so the honey only coated beautiful, tanned skin. Bakura drank the syrup off of Marik's thighs, licking carefully between Marik's legs and groin. Then he sucked the sweet, liquid sugar from Marik's testicles, moaning as he worked, his eyes never leaving Marik's sight. He moved his tongue up Marik's shaft, his licks languid and deliberate. When he finally reached the head, Bakura opened his mouth wide and took Marik's entire length into his mouth.
A golden sheen coated Bakura's lips. They shined from both honey and saliva. Bakura bobbed his head up and down and Marik's hips follow in time until Marik fisted the sheets and called out Bakura's name.