I would just like to add another little disclaimer here: the name and tagline of the bar is actually inspired by 'Take it Off' by Ke$ha, which I don't own but thought it would be appropriate. I really liked writing this chapter, as it's quite a bit longer so more the length I'm aiming to write every chapter. I write Marik better but writing as Bakura is also pretty fun, so I've found.

Lakey: Yes, you should get a ff account! :D In a couple of chapters you get your wish, but this chapter should have enough action to tide you over until then. I'm glad you like it! :D *gives cookie*

Enjoy, my lovely reader.

Chapter 3- Hole in the Wall

Marik woke a few hours later feeling infinitely better but extremely hungry. Looking at the clock he realised he had slept for six hours: Ryou was probably making dinner as it was his night to cook. Marik then realised with a stab of guilt exactly what he had last said to Ryou: he hoped the quiet boy would forgive him for being so rude. He slipped out of bed and pulled on his discarded trousers and shirt before running a comb through his hair and leaving his room. He headed down the hall towards the kitchen, where he could hear sounds of food being cooked Ryou moving around.

Tentatively he put his head around the door. Sure enough, there was his friend, slicing potatoes by the kitchen sink.

"Ry?"

"Hm?" Ryou turned away from the food to look at him. Marik decided to just get on with it.

"Ry, I'm so sorry about how I came in earlier. I didn't mean to swear at you, I just didn't get the job and my taxi driver managed to wind me up and I had a hangover…" He trailed off when he saw Ryou smile at him.

"It's fine, Marik. I didn't think you'd be in the best of moods anyway so I guess you could say I expected it." He turned back to the sink, so missed Marik's frown.

"Still, that doesn't mean you deserve it, so I just wanted to say I'm really sorry."

"Leave it, Marik. Could you set the table, please?"

The Egyptian nodded even though Ryou's back was to him, and set about collecting the cutlery.

"Actually I was thinking we could go out tonight," Ryou said somewhat hesitantly as he finished cutting the last potato.

"Where?" Marik asked.

"Oh just this bar I know, it's not too far and it's actually rather nice." Ryou was making it sound like a question, which made Marik slightly suspicious.

"What's it called?" he asked as he grabbed a couple of glasses for drinks.

"Um, Hole in the Wall. It's quite small…" Ryou said almost nervously as he put the potatoes in the oven.

"Ryou." Marik set the glasses down and turned to his friend.

"Y-yes?" The stutter was all Marik needed to confirm his suspicions.

"What are you not telling me?" Ryou blushed deeply before taking a deep breath.

"Don't tell anyone, Marik, but there's this guy there who I think is really cute but you can't tell anyone because I don't even know whether he likes guys or not. We've never spoken but I sometimes catch him looking over me and when I do he doesn't look away… I don't even know his name but I really want to get to know him." Ryou stopped talking, a little flushed as though he had wanted to tell someone this for a long time.

Unlike Marik, who was honestly way too confused right now to even think about his sexuality, Ryou was fairly open about being bisexual and didn't receive any negativity from it from others. So Marik could have probably guessed why Ryou wanted to go to that particular bar tonight.

"Is this the bar you often go out to with your course-mates?" he asked the white haired teen, who nodded in the affirmative.

"He's usually there but I'm always surrounded by the rest of them so I can't go and talk to him," he replied. "Though I probably wouldn't do it even if I was on my own," Ryou continued, hanging his head.

Marik smiled. "Well we'll go there tonight and I'll see if I can get a look at the lucky guy," he joked.

Ryou smiled at him gratefully before changing the subject.

After dinner they watched a film before Ryou decided it was about the right time to go out.

"Any sort of dress code?" Marik asked before they headed to their rooms to get ready.

"Not really," Ryou said. "I normally just wear jeans and a nice shirt. Don't take a jumper or anything though; it can get really warm in there."

"Thanks for the heads up," Marik replied before heading into his room. He sighed as he looked around the messy room. He'd never find anything in here in the state it was in. After a lot of hunting around he found a pair of tight jeans and a fairly tight purple top to go with them. Having always had to wear loose- fitting clothes in Egypt, Marik was quite enjoying the novelty of not having to dress in materials that flapped about whenever he moved.

As an afterthought he opened a draw and pulled out the gold jewellery he used to wear in Egypt. Sure, it was mostly just cultural but it would offset the purple nicely. He frowned at how odd that thought sounded as he added the armbands, but quickly forgot about it in favour of sorting his hair out.

He was just finishing up when Ryou shouted, "Marik, you've been in there for an hour, how long does it take for you to be satisfied with how you look?"

Marik didn't answer, instead opting to finish the last spike of his hair with a flourish.

"Ok, I'm ready now," he said, smiling at Ryou's eagerness to leave. He headed towards the door, which was opened by Ryou before he could reach it.

"Someone's in a hurry," he remarked as he passed the excited teen.

"And you seem to be deliberately going slow to annoy me!" came the response.

Marik laughed. "You know it takes me a while to look this good," he joked as he checked he had everything he needed. When this was done Ryou practically dragged him out of the apartment and down the road. As they walked Marik decided to quiz his friend further with regards to the mystery crush.

"So what does he look like?"

Ryou thought for a moment before responding. "He's tall, taller than you I think. And broader too. He has blonde hair too, but it's really wild, it sort of defies gravity and sticks up wherever it wants to. He usually wears black…" The small teen trailed off in thought before continuing. "He looks a few years older than us too. And he arrives on foot so I think he might live nearby.

Marik nodded. "He sounds ok, though you won't know if that's true if you don't go and talk to him!"

"I know, I know," Ryou said. "I just can't, you know how shy I am!"

Marik looked at him. "You weren't particularly shy last night when everyone was over," he remarked.

"That was different. It was with people I know and I felt comfortable!"

"So this guy makes you feel uncomfortable?"

"I never said that…"

"Suuuure."

The pair continued to joke as they made their way into town, Ryou leading the way with certainty.

"We're nearly here," he said a while later as they turned into a darker side street that was a lot narrower than the rest of them. Marik had never been to this part of the city before: he had to admit his first impressions weren't all that great.

"Are you sure, Ryou?"

"Of course," the white haired boy replied. "I've been here a fair few times with Jou and Honda so I know the way."

"If you say so," Marik mumbled as he followed his friend further down the street. The buildings on either side were mostly old shops, worn looking with faded shutters, and he could see a couple of buildings that were bordered up. There were no street lamps, leaving the pavement looking a little dingy and a few pieces of litter that had escaped a nearby bin accompanied them as they walked down the street.

After a few moments the sound of music and laughter could be heard, and eventually the club came into view. Ryou was right: it did look quite small. The sign above it was emblazoned with 'Hole in the Wall (It's a dirty free for all!)' and a picture of a shot glass next to it. Classy.

Marik shrugged off the obvious innuendo before going to stand with Ryou at the back of the small queue that was outside the door.

"It's the Thursday night crowd," Ryou informed him. "Normally you don't have to queue at all even though it's usually full." Marik only nodded, hoping Ryou knew what he was doing. The Egyptian favoured the larger clubs towards the centre of town as they often had a lot of security about, and in the three months he had been in Domino there had never been an incident in them. This one looked a little on the seedy side if he was being honest.

He didn't have long to consider all the things that could go wrong, for in a few minutes they were at the front of the queue and the man on the door, a tall bald man with a tattoo across half of his face, was asking for his ID. He produced it quickly and followed Ryou into the club, expecting the worst.

What he actually got was a pleasant surprise. The interior was much nicer than the exterior: it had two bars, one of which you had to climb a steep set of stairs to get to, and it looked fairly clean. Or at least that was the impression he got: he couldn't quite tell in the dim lighting. The only source of light was the lasers embedded in the ceiling, casting multicolour beams across the dancing crowd below them.

The music was loud but not unbearably so, so when Ryou asked Marik if he wanted to get a drink from the bar up the stairs, Marik was able to agree without having to yell too loudly. As they headed towards the stairs, he failed to see dark red eyes following him from the other bar, and he didn't see the small smile appear on the same face that the eyes belonged to.

Yes, Marik had turned up in Bakura's favourite bar, and the latter had to admit he was pretty happy about it, as he hadn't been sure whether he would even see the Egyptian again. His russet eyes continued to follow his interesting client as he ascended the stairs, noting the tight jeans and gold jewellery. As Marik sat down at the bar next to a white-haired boy, probably his flat-mate, Bakura turned back to his drink, downed it, and motioned to the bartender for a refill. He was going to talk to that boy and find out his name one way or another.

He was just about to down his double vodka and coke when it was snatched out of his hand and instead downed by another.

"Mariku! What have I told you about that?"

Bakura turned in annoyance to see his 'friend' sitting on the stool next to him wearing an evil smile as he put the empty glass on the table. Well really he was more of a drinking partner than a friend, because Bakura was sure friends were supposed to trust each other further than they could throw them. And he didn't exactly trust Mariku.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you a replacement if you stop bitching," the broad man stated as his grin widened. "Though since when did you start adding a mixer to your spirits?"

"Since you got me to down eight in a row and made me ill for two days," Bakura muttered, but Mariku wasn't listening to him, instead trying to catch the attention of the guy behind the bar.

Once Bakura had successfully got his alcohol, he turned back to Mariku.

"Why are you here tonight, thought you were working?"

"Plans change," the other said as he took a pure shot. "And I really want to pull tonight," he added as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Then why not go to one of the bigger places?" Bakura asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mind your own business," Mariku smirked, giving Bakura a flash of that insane purple glare. "Or I shall have to mind it for you."

Bakura shrugged in dismissal. He didn't really care what Mariku was doing there tonight, he had his own agenda and he intended on sticking to it. Following his train of thought he looked over to where the two teens were sat on the upper level. They appeared to be engaged in some sort of drinking game involving shots. Each to their own.

Mariku noticed his glance and followed it to the two smaller teens.

"Looks like I'm not the only one looking to pull," he said, grinning wildly. As he looked on the small white haired boy turned and caught his gaze. Mariku didn't look away. After a few seconds, however, the little teen turned away and whispered something to his friend, giggling at the same time.

Bakura noted the whole exchange coolly, realising who Mariku's target was. He sighed: the poor boy wouldn't know what hit him. Turning back to the bar, he ordered another round of drinks (ok, maybe five rounds) for him and Mariku, who finally looked away from the boy with the promise of alcohol.

"I'm going to down these and go dance, I think," he said nonchalantly.

"Whatever." Once again Bakura couldn't care less. Instead he focussed on the drinks in front of him. He would need them to talk to the tanned boy later.

Meanwhile on the upper level, Ryou and Marik were busy ordering yet another round.

"Why are you so insistent on having so much to drink, Ry?" Marik asked as the normally gentle boy called for another round as soon as they had downed the last one.

"Because if he comes over I can't talk to him while I'm sober!" he replied as though it were obvious.

"And remind me again why I'm not allowed to look at him?"

"It'll be way too obvious if we both look, he might get scared," he insisted, distracting the other teen with another shot.

"Does he look like the type to get scared?" Marik asked, slurring slightly. They had both already downed quite a few shots: he had a feeling he was going to regret them in the morning.

"Well, no… But all the same…" Ryou tailed off.

"Just let me look at him!"

"No, please don't! He might think we're judging him."

Marik sighed and gave up. "Fine, but you're being such a girl about this, Ry. Normal people would flirt across a crowded room before going and starting a conversation. You're sitting here slowly getting drunk and not even letting me look at him."

"You're here for support, Mar'. You're not supposed to make it worse! Just go with it, ok?"

Marik nodded, resigned to the fact that he would have to deal with Ryou's disappointment later when they inevitably left without talking to his crush. Oh well, it was his own fault.

Ryou continued to alternate between taking a drink and looking over his shoulder for a minute or so before they were interrupted by a couple of familiar faces.

"Ryou!" Jonouchi shouted, causing the small boy to jump and spill some of his drink. "Hey, Ryuji, Ryou and Marik are here!"

The black haired boy appeared behind his friend, both of them wearing stupid grins and obviously intoxicated.

"How's it going with mystery guy, eh?" Ryuji asked, fiddling with the dice that hung from his ear. "Plucked up the balls to talk to him yet?"

Ryou shook his head forcefully and giggled, causing Jou to fix him with a glare.

"Well that's no good is it? Come on, come and dance with us, it'll get you in the mood!" Before Ryou could protest he was dragged out of his seat by the hyperactive pair and, with an imploring glance at Marik, was pulled away to dance with them.

Marik smirked slightly as he was left alone at the bar, wondering whether he'd be able to sneak a glance at Ryou's crush now he was absent. Deciding he'd better not risk it, he turned back to the bar once again, and attempted to read the names on the bottles behind the counter. He really had drunk rather a lot, he thought as the bottles went in and out of focus in front of him.

He wasn't sat alone for long before he sensed someone sit on the chair beside him and a smooth voice say, "Care for me to buy you a drink?"

He turned to face the newcomer with some difficulty- wow, was he really that drunk?- and had to stop his jaw dropping. The stranger looked so alike him, they could have been brothers. He possessed the same hair colour, skin colour and purple eyes as Marik, but he looked wilder, as though he'd just got back from a week in the jungle and loved every moment of it.

Marik took a moment to process his features before replying, "Depends who's asking."

His lookalike chuckled. "The name's Mariku if you must know, though I don't see how that should affect my offer."

Marik had to agree on that one. "I'll take a vodka and coke then. I'd rather not see another shot anytime soon." He motioned to the row of small empty glasses on the bar in front of him.

Mariku chuckled and motioned to the bartender to get Marik's drink. While he was waiting for it he decided to hit on the boy further.

"So what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this? Or is that line too overused to be effective?"

This caused Marik to laugh a lot more than he would have done had he been sober.

"A little overused but it'll do. I'm here with a friend." He motioned over his shoulder to where Ryou had disappeared to, almost falling off his stool with the movement. Luckily, his new conversation partner caught him.

"Wow, I know I'm sexy but I didn't expect you to fall for me that easily," Mariku commented as he helped Marik steady himself. "Maybe you don't need that drink after all."

"I'm having it after you went to the trouble to buy it me," Marik slurred, wondering why it was suddenly so difficult to speak coherently. He reached for the newly made drink and attempted to down it all in one. The result was a rather interesting spluttering sound as he descended into a fit of laughter for some reason.

Mariku couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. The kid was so pissed he couldn't even down a drink: he'd be a perfect partner for the night. Hiding his smirk behind a broad smile, he waited as Marik recovered before holding his hand out.

"Come on, I think you and me need to go and dance." Before the smaller boy could reply he'd been pulled out of his seat and led to the dance floor on the upper level by a practical stranger.

Dimly, Marik wondered what the hell he was doing, but he'd ingested so much alcohol that it was almost as though his body was on autopilot. He could see what was happening but couldn't do anything to prevent it. He briefly thought whether it was considered gay to be dancing with another man, but alcohol quickly pushed the thought from his brain. This was how he found himself to be on the dance floor with someone he had only just met with no inclination to stop.

The two Egyptians (for Mariku was indeed from Egypt even though Marik didn't know it) danced for two songs before the taller male began to get impatient. He had got it down to a fine art: when he felt like it he would enter the bar, find a target, buy them a few drinks, dance for a while before leaving with them and taking them back to his apartment all within half an hour.

This one seemed to be content with dancing without even touching him: his whole image projected 'virgin'. Mariku grinned again. It had been quite a while since he had bothered to pull anyone from this bar, and it seemed tonight was his lucky night.

Eager to get on with it the tall man grabbed his unwitting dance partner and wound his arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. Marik was too drunk to notice at first, but when the man grabbed his chin and tilted it up he became aware of the situation. He found that he didn't care. It hadn't even crossed his mind that this man fit Ryou's description perfectly, right down to the black jeans and plain black top.

Mariku leant down and pressed his lips against Marik's, and the latter found himself responding without even meaning to, pulling his partner closer to him and clinging to him. Part of his brain blamed it on the alcohol, the other part… He wasn't sure if he even had another part by this point. All he knew was that he was making out with another guy in a crowd of people and he didn't care.

Mariku had just pushed his tongue into the other's mouth when there was a loud curse from right next to them. Before he could stop him, Marik had pulled away at the sound of the voice.

Jonouchi was stood there staring at them, and behind him the two Egyptians could make out the form of Ryou, who was looking at Marik with tears in his eyes.

"Marik, what the fuck are you doing?" Jou's voice was laced with anger as he glared at the smaller boy.

"W-what?" Marik asked, confused as to what was going on. Was Jou angry at him because he was kissing another guy? And why was Ryou crying?

"You know what, you asshole. How could you?" Jou was already turning away in disgust, dragging Ryou with him. The small white haired teen shot Marik a look of anguish as he followed Jonouchi and they disappeared into the crowd.

"What did I do?" Marik asked in bewilderment as he looked up at his dancing partner, who shrugged without interest.

"No idea, never even met the guy before. Seen the small one in here a few times though."

He said it in a tone that meant that conversation was over, and before Marik could form a reply his lips were crushed against the other's with renewed force.

Meanwhile Jonouchi had managed to pull a distraught Ryou away from the dance floor to the relative peace of the bar. The smaller boy was trying to inconspicuously wipe away his tears but was failing miserably.

"That bastard," Jou said, glaring back to the mass of dancers. "What the hell is he doing? Did you tell him about your guy?"

Ryou hiccupped and nodded. "I gave him a description but he hadn't seen him before. It's my fault, he didn't know what he looked like." He took a deep shaky breath. "I want to go home, Jou."

The blonde nodded. "I'll go and grab Ryuji and we'll get you back safely. Wait here for a sec."

Ryou nodded as his friend disappeared into the crowd once again. He wasn't bothered by anyone luckily, and a minute later Jonouchi was back by his side with Ryuji in tow. The black haired man patted him on the shoulder and said, "Jou told me about Marik, I'm sorry."

Ryou tried for a smile, which failed, before standing. "It's not like I have any claim over him," he said sadly. "I just want to get out of here."

At these words the trio headed towards the stairs and negotiated their way down them with some difficulty. After reaching the bottom they skirted past the crowd and headed out of the door.

A pair of russet eyes watched them with interest. Bakura had expected Mariku to be stealing the small albino away for the night, yet there he was leaving with a tear streaked face and two friends different to the one he had arrived with.

Swaying slightly, (he couldn't even remember how many rounds he had drunk) Bakura got off his stool and made his way towards the upper level, holding his latest drink carefully. It would be hard to pick Mariku out in a crowd, but he had to try. After all, he was intending on staying in his apartment tonight. He picked his way through the crowd, every now and then needing to use someone for support, until he finally picked out the spiky hair of Mariku.

Pushing through a group of giggling girls his drinking partner finally came into view, and he was making out with someone. Bakura recognised the gold armbands glinting in the light of the lasers before anything else, and after that it only took his saturated brain a few seconds to work out who Mariku was kissing.

Well, fuck.

Had he not needed a place to sleep that night Bakura would have punched Mariku in the face right then. Not that that was a particularly good idea: Mariku was one of the strongest fighters around, but Bakura was almost past caring. Almost.

As it was, he settled for inching towards the otherwise occupied couple and, smiling grimly, tipped his drink all over their heads before disappearing into the crowd. Shouts and curses could be heard behind him as he pushed past people and headed down the stairs.

He wasn't even sure why it had affected him so much. He decided to put it down to alcohol, but a little voice inside him wouldn't stop suggesting that it was something more than that. He told the voice to shut up and go screw itself. He didn't even know the boy's name for fuck's sake, there was no reason for him to be pissed at Mariku for choosing to make out with him. Yes, it was definitely all the alcohol's fault. Blame the alcohol.

Bakura skirted round the crowd, taking the same path the small boy and his friends had just taken, and finally made it to the door. He burst outside into the cool air and took a moment to calm down. Glancing around he saw the small white haired boy leant again the wall a few meters away, being consoled by his two friends. Maybe he too had seen the pair in the crowd upstairs, and Bakura would put money on the small teen having the hots for Mariku.

He wished him luck with that.

He turned away from the little group and headed down the street, negotiating the twists and turns with difficulty as he headed for Mariku's apartment. More often than not he headed this way alone, as Mariku either left long before him or long after him, so he counted on himself to know the way. He walked into a couple of walls, and punched one in anger before finally emerging onto the street that held Mariku's abode.

Having been told the security code a long time ago Bakura wasted no time in gaining entry to the building and weaving his way up the stairs. On arriving at the fourth floor he checked for the spare key- only to find it missing.

"Thanks Mariku, thanks a lot. First you steal my interesting client and then you lock me out of your fucking apartment. You giant arsehole."

Bakura's rant devolved into slurred mutterings as he thought about the best way to gain entrance to the apartment. He couldn't very well kick the door down, it would arouse suspicion and the last thing he wanted was a drunken encounter with the police.

After debating other methods for quite some time Bakura's brain decided he could kick the door open quietly enough thank you very much. Pushing himself off the wall he aimed his leg up with the door and thrust it forward in a powerful (or so he thought) kick.

The door remained standing. After cursing under his breath Bakura tried again. Still nothing. Growling in frustration he threw his whole weight against it- to no avail.

"Arsehole," he cursed his friend under his breath as he resigned himself to sleeping outside the door until Mariku came home.

As a last ditch attempt, he turned the handle. The door swung calmly open.

Bakura slowly raised an eyebrow before stalking into the apartment and slamming the door behind him. He headed straight for the sofa where he collapsed and soon fell to sleep. He would not think any more of the matter, he promised himself.