Hi there! I'm back for another chapter to brighten up your Monday. I loved writing this one, it was so much fun! Anyway, it's a long one so I hope you enjoy, there's much thiefshipping and deathshipping ahead, but that's what you're here for, right? :P

LazyGaga- Thanks so much! I'm really glad you like the story, I hope you keep reading. :D

Enough of me, enjoy the super long chapter!

Chapter 5- Interesting Plans

Mariku hadn't been too surprised to see Bakura asleep on his couch when he walked into his apartment. In fact, he would probably have been more surprised if he wasn't, for the short tempered Brit lived a fair distance from the town centre (or so he said- Mariku had never been to his place) and usually needed somewhere to crash.

It had been half past six in the morning by the time Mariku had returned from the larger clubs in the middle of town, and he had headed straight for the shower to get rid of the residue drink that was still stuck in his hair. He had been intending to talk to Bakura after he had cleaned himself up, but on exiting the bathroom he had found the sofa to be empty.

Last night Mariku had searched everywhere for his friend after his prospective lay had run off, but couldn't find him anywhere. So in traditional Mariku style he had hit every club and bar in the middle of town and come back alone hours later after he could remember where he lived.

Cursing Bakura's absence- for he really wanted to know where he had gone- Mariku had instead headed to bed himself to sleep off the alcohol in his system.

This is how he came to be sat on the edge of his bed hours later, wondering whether he could be bothered to text Bakura or not. Deciding he would simply seek his friend out in the club later he threw his phone onto the single bed and set about finding some pants. He didn't doubt Bakura would be out tonight, for it was a Saturday and 'Hole in the Wall' did awesome discounts on drinks. Knowing Bakura was well on his way to being an alcoholic, Mariku assumed he would be seeing the white haired man soon.

Finally locating a pair of black pants, he pulled them on and headed out into the main part of his apartment. It wasn't too large, for Mariku didn't like to draw attention to himself, but it had all the necessary home comforts. A sofa and TV to the right next to a window that offered him a view of the streets below, a kitchenette built into a small alcove on the left, and a table with a couple of chairs set against the wall next to the bedroom.

Mariku knew he could easily afford something a lot more spacious but didn't see the point. The money he earned from his job wasn't exactly… legal. It would seem strange for him to live somewhere that required a lot of rent when on paper he didn't earn much. Sure, he had a legal job: he worked part time at a restaurant down the road just so he had a job to put on the countless forms he had to sign, but most of the money was otherwise obtained.

Mariku smirked. He liked his other job. Not even Bakura knew what he really did for a living, and the Brit would never know.

Pulling his thoughts back into the present Mariku headed to the kitchenette and proceeded to make himself a steak. While it was cooking he leaned on the counter and thought back to last night.

Clearly he had chosen the wrong guy to satisfy his cravings: the smaller boy had run off the second the drink had touched his head and Mariku had seen no more of him. He didn't look any older than about nineteen, so he had probably been a little intimidated by Mariku, who stood at a height of six foot two and looked every one of his twenty three years.

No, he wouldn't bother seeking the other tanned boy out again. The pale boy though… Mariku thought he had caught a glimpse of him hiding behind that blonde haired prat, looking pretty upset. The tall Egyptian had taken an interest in the small boy a few months ago when he had first come into 'Hole in the Wall' with a few friends, looking round with wide eyes and an air of innocence. Mariku had instantly been struck by the contrast between him and Bakura: they both had white hair, but while Bakura's eyes were a muddy reddish-brown, the smaller boy had brown eyes that seemed to sparkle even across the room.

Normally Mariku would have gone over and tried to talk to the white haired boy the very same night, but this time it was different. He had wanted to observe the boy for a while so he could plan his approach. Last night Mariku had been intending to get close to the boy, but by the time he had reached the upper bar his target had gone, leaving his friend alone. Feeling an irrational spike of anger, Mariku had decided to pull his friend instead, and the results had been rather to his liking.

If the small boy had been upset, there was a possibility that Mariku would be able to make his move soon. He made up his mind as he tipped the steak onto his plate. No, the white haired boy wasn't getting away with anything tonight.

What Mariku didn't know was that, as he planned his moves, the target of his interest was doing a very similar thing.

Ryou was laying down on his bed staring at the ceiling, trying to work out what to do when he and Marik went to the club again later. Of course, an ideal scenario would be for Mariku to come and talk to him, but that probably wouldn't happen now: Ryou knew the tall man had seen him behind Jonouchi last night and he didn't seem like the type of guy who empathised particularly well.

Ryou still wasn't too sure what about the man was so attractive: he looked so much like Marik it was almost uncanny, and Ryou definitely didn't fancy his housemate. Maybe it was the other's deep purple gaze which Ryou sometimes found following him. His eyes were a few shades darker than Marik's and more intense too.

Ryou closed his eyes. He would just deal with the situation when it arose. There was a knock on his door and he heard Marik's voice calling him for dinner.

"Coming," he replied before pushing himself off the bed and heading to the kitchen. The smell of pasta greeted him as he stepped into the room, followed by the sight of Marik putting two plates of spaghetti onto the table.

"So, we need a plan," the Egyptian said matter-of-factly as they sat down to eat.

"We do?"

"Of course. We can't have another scenario like last night, Ryou."

Ryou nodded in agreement. "I really don't think you can plan for something like this, Marik. There are too many external factors."

"That's true. But we at least need some sort of general rule."

"What would you suggest?"

Marik thought for a moment. "If he doesn't come over directly to talk to you within say, half an hour, I leave you alone for a while and see if he takes any notice. Does that sound reasonable?"

Ryou pondered the suggestion. "I suppose that is an idea," he said, "though I wouldn't know how to respond even if he did come over."

"Ah you'll think of something," Marik smiled before taking a large mouthful of food.

Ryou shrugged slightly before turning to his own plate.

They finished the rest of the meal whilst discussing other things such as Ryou's classes and Marik's painting, and afterwards headed into the living room to play a video game until it was time to go out. At around nine o'clock Ryou sent his housemate to go and get ready, and at ten o'clock they finally exited the apartment.

"Honestly, Marik, you take forever to get ready! Are you trying to impress someone?" the smaller teen said teasingly as they started walking into town.

Marik, who had just been checking his wallet to count his money, reflexively blushed before replying, "No!" It was true. He didn't take ages to look good for a specific person, he did it for himself. Unfortunately for him, Ryou had picked up on his blush.

"There is someone, isn't there?"

"No, there really isn't."

"I think you're lying!"

"Think what you will, I'm not trying to impress someone. I don't like anyone, Ryou." Except Bakura. But Marik wasn't factoring the annoying driver into this argument. And besides, he didn't like Bakura- he was irritating and enjoyed interrupting Marik's careful train of thought. The fact that he had shown a hint of niceness just before his interview meant nothing at all. And of course his eyes. But eyes meant nothing if the person behind them was an arsehole.

"Marik, you've gone all quiet and thoughtful," Ryou said a minute later.

"Hm?"

"Exactly. You totally space out sometimes, you know."

"Yeah I do. Sorry Ry, just thinking."

"About? Is it the mystery person?"

Marik gave Ryou a playful push. "For the last time, I don't like anyone! When would I even meet someone? I'm usually at home."

"Whatever you say," Ryou said airily with a sly smile on his face. "No doubt you'll tell me all about it later."

"Over my dead body," Marik replied.

"Depends how much you drink," the smaller teen laughed as they continued walking. "I'm sure you'll be keen to tell me though, you're always so truthful when you're drunk."

"Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know," Marik said regretfully. It was a fair point, he always seemed to be letting things slip after a few drinks. Well that wouldn't happen tonight, because there was nothing to tell. More than likely he would never see Bakura again, and he could get back to living his life as he should, without any annoying interruptions.

As they headed into the main part of the city and got closer to their destination, Marik realised Ryou looked rather nervous. His eyes were a little wider than usual and his face was flushed.

"You ok, Ry?" he asked the other.

Ryou nodded. "I'm fine. I just don't know if I can do this…"

"Oh no, you're not backing out now. Come on, pull yourself together!" Marik said, perhaps slightly harsher than he had intended to.

Ryou nodded and took a deep breath as they headed down the narrow street where 'Hole in the Wall' was situated. There was no queue tonight but Marik put that down to their timing: they were a little earlier than they had been the night before so the crowds weren't out in force as they would be later.

"Come on," he said to Ryou, whose steps were getting smaller and smaller as they neared the door. "We both know you can't keep going on like this. You need closure."

After a small amount of protest from Ryou they eventually got into the bar, which wasn't too crowded yet, luckily. They were able to make their way to the upper bar with relative ease, and once there they each ordered a long drink and settled down to wait.

About half an hour later Marik, who was sat facing the entrance, saw someone resembling Mariku walking through the door and nudged Ryou.

"I think he's here."

The smaller teen turned his head slightly to see that Mariku had indeed just walked in, and was turning his head as though searching for someone. Ryou quickly looked away before he caught his eye.

"Now what?" he asked.

"We wait," Marik replied, seeming rather calm considering he and Mariku had been making out last night. "Give it a while and I'm pretty sure he'll come over, though maybe not when I'm around."

Ryou gave a little nod before taking a sip of his drink. He was perfectly fine to wait.

Meanwhile, down on the ground floor Mariku had given up searching for Bakura and headed to his favourite place: the bar. Ordering a drink he pulled out his phone to text his elusive friend but quickly thought better of it. He didn't want the white haired male to think he was actually bothered about his presence or anything.

He sighed and pocketed his phone. He wasn't even too sure himself why he was here tonight: sure he wanted to see Bakura and ask where the hell he had gone last night, but normally that wouldn't drive him to come out. His eyes roamed the upper level until they landed on two teenage boys sat together. The pale one had his back to him, whilst his lookalike was determinedly not looking at him.

Of course, that was why he was here: the soft looking white haired boy.

Sighing again Mariku settled for biding his time with his drink until he felt able to go upstairs. There was no way he'd be able to talk to his little teen until the annoying lookalike was gone. He was seriously tempted to text Bakura to tell him to get his ass over here and help him out with that, but that practically screamed desperate: something Mariku was not.

Upstairs, Ryou was making Marik give him a commentary of the tall man's movements.

"He's looking away towards the bar and taking a drink," Marik said carefully, knowing if he didn't report back properly Ryou would get more stressed. "I don't know what he ordered though, I couldn't see the bartender making the drink."

Ryou nodded slightly and Marik noticed his hand wasn't totally steady on the glass he was nursing. He wondered whether that was alcohol or nerves.

"Is anyone with him?"

"Nope, though he just pulled out his phone before putting it away again."

"What if he's meeting someone here?" Ryou asked frantically. "What if he already has a date? I think we should go, Mar'. He obviously has someone else!"

"Relax Ry," Marik said gently, grabbing his friend's arm to stop him from jumping out of his seat. "He isn't with anyone and I saw him look this way when he first sat down. You need to calm down, I think."

Ryou offered him a small smile. "I'm sorry, it's just that I know it's now or never isn't it?"

"Um, yes?" Marik didn't really follow his logic but decided to agree anyway: he didn't fancy trying to follow that particular logic at the moment. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mariku throw a quick glance in their direction.

"He looked at you again," he reported back to his smaller friend, who was currently choosing a new drink from the menu.

Nodding to show he had heard, Ryou ordered one of the stronger spirits on the menu before taking a breath. Once he had taken a large gulp he looked over his shoulder at the downstairs bar.

"Oh why did I have to go and like someone like that," he moaned.

"Like what?" Marik asked curiously.

"Oh never mind," Ryou muttered before taking another drink.

"I think you need to slow down a little, you don't want to be a totally drunk mess when he comes over, do you?"

"If he comes over."

"He will," Marik said firmly. "I'm going to take my leave now, I'll be back in five minutes- that will give him plenty of time for him to get his ass up here and talk to you."

Ryou looked at him like a startled bunny. "But I'm scared, Mar'!"

"Oh come on," said Marik as he slipped off his barstool. "If he doesn't come I'll be back before you know it, and if he does then you finally get to talk to him. It's a win-win situation!"

Before Ryou could reply Marik had wandered off to the toilets, leaving him alone.

Downstairs, Mariku smiled.

Marik finally located the toilets in the far corner of the club but didn't go in. Instead he lounged against the wall and started counting his five minutes. He hoped he'd been right in his guess, otherwise Ryou would want to leave the minute Marik returned to him.

After three minutes Marik bean to slowly push through the crowd until he had a decent view of the bar. He could see Ryou's white head quite easily, and he was talking to someone. Moving a little to the right Marik was able to see who it was. Yes, it was Mariku! Marik internally cheered as he watched the exchange.

Mariku seemed to be very relaxed and confident in himself, while Ryou was projecting a shy, coy aura. It seemed to be working.

On the fourth minute, Mariku's smile widened as he offered his hand to the other, and they disappeared into the crowd, presumably to dance. Now the coast was clear Marik returned to the bar, smiling at his friend's success as he sat down. Ordering a drink he cast a quick glance behind him and saw Ryou and Mariku towards the edge of the crowd, dancing together. As Marik looked on the taller man wound his arms around Ryou and pulled him closer.

Marik turned away, wanting to give them some privacy, and saw that his drink had arrived in front of him. Taking a gulp he rested his head on his hand and prepared to wait. He hadn't thought through the consequences for himself when he had left Ryou: now he was sat alone and would be for the rest of the night. He couldn't even leave in case Ryou needed him. Great.

He was just considering getting his phone out and downloading a new game when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Marik turned and found himself looking into the eyes that he had been trying so hard not to think about for the last three days.

"Bakura," he said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"Who else?" came the nonchalant reply as Bakura slid into Ryou's empty seat. Truth be told he really hadn't been expecting to see the smaller Egyptian here tonight: he'd only come because Mariku would be pissed without an explanation of where he went the night before.

"Well you get all sorts of types in here," Marik said, and Bakura realised he was answering his rhetorical question. "You could have been anyone."

"That I could," Bakura laughed before ordering himself a drink. "So how's my interesting customer been holding up? You miss me?"

Marik's response was to choke attractively on his drink. Of course he hadn't missed the driver's constant interruptions and sarcastic attitude! Who did he think he was, coming in here and presuming Marik wanted to talk to him? Unfortunately he couldn't articulate any of this and by the time he had stopped coughing Bakura was already talking again.

"I'll take that as a yes, then. I don't suppose you've seen a really tall spiky-haired guy around have you? I appear to have lost him."

Marik set his drink down before looking at Bakura properly for the first time. He looked tired and more than a little stressed, and his hair was a little wilder than usual, as though he hadn't even bothered to brush it before setting out. His eyes however, which were currently fixed on Marik, were as vivid as he had remembered.

Realising Bakura had asked a question Marik quickly tore his eyes away from his face and replied, "You wouldn't be talking about Mariku, would you?"

Bakura internally smirked before he feigned shock. "You know Mariku? Of course I mean Mariku, do you know where he is?"

'Oh God', Marik thought.' What if Bakura and Mariku are together and Mariku is cheating?' Bakura would never speak to him again! Even though that wouldn't affect Marik at all, of course. That train of thought was stopped dead when he realised Bakura was laughing at him.

"Don't worry," he said between chuckles. "Mariku is just a friend. Your face though, you looked like you were going to make a run for it!"

"Hey, that wasn't funny," Marik said, glaring at Bakura. "If you were together it would have meant serious shit for my friend, that's why I was worried."

"Oh?"

Marik turned and pointed to the edge of the crowd, where Ryou and Mariku were- wait, what were they even doing? Why were they doing that? Marik turned away quickly before the image became too cemented on his brain. He never wished to see Ryou doing that to anyone ever again.

"Well Mariku did always like pinning people to walls," Bakura remarked coolly as he too turned back to his drink. "How did the interview go?"

Marik was so taken aback by the change in conversation that it took him a few seconds to forget the disturbing mental image and work out what Bakura was referring to. Oh right, the job interview. "Terrible," he said. "I was late and he wanted me to draw fucking cartoons for a whole year. The whole thing lasted about five minutes before he realised I was hungover and kicked me out."

"That sucks," Bakura said sympathetically. "Believe me, I know what it's like to fail at a job interview- I've certainly had enough!" He took a long drink before putting the glass down and staring ruefully at it.

There was silence for a moment before Marik responded. "What's the deal with you anyway? You don't seem to care what you do with your life and you don't care if you get fired. Why?" It had been a question playing on Marik's mind for a while, for Bakura's attitude intrigued him the first time they had met.

Bakura thought for a moment before answering. "Well I guess I've had a lot of jobs and I don't really get attached to them anymore. They all pass me by really, I often get fired within a few months for being late or rude to customers. I'm past caring, I suppose. My last job was at a convenience store, but they insisted on putting me on the early morning shifts, which didn't work well with my drinking habits. I only lasted a few weeks before they fired me, and it won't be long before someone complains about my lack of manners in this job too, and then I'll be out of a job again."

Bakura looked pointedly at Marik after this statement, and Marik remembered how he had threatened to call Bakura's employer and get him fired. Bakura had laughed at him.

"And after telling you that you at least have to tell me your name," Bakura added, a small smile on his face.

Marik hesitated. The demand was certainly not unreasonable, but by telling Bakura his name it would make the exchange more… Personal. Did he want to go 'personal' with Bakura? Yes, yes he did.

"Marik. My name is Marik."

Bakura nodded. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Marik raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink. He was curious as to why Bakura was acting so friendly all of a sudden. He didn't seem to be making an effort to annoy him and Marik found himself actually liking the conversation. Now that was weird.

"So you know Mariku, then?" Marik asked, figuring he may as well try and get some info to give to Ryou later.

"Yeah, he can be a prize asshole sometimes but he's alright. At least he can hold down a job, unlike me."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, he works at some restaurant just down the road from here."

Marik nodded. Ryou would be happy when he found- the British boy loved trying new kinds of food. Speaking of Ryou… Marik turned and looked for his friend, but he and Mariku seemed to have disappeared, for he couldn't see them anymore.

Bakura noticed the look and said, "So your friend likes my friend and my friend likes your friend, huh?"

"It would seem that way," Marik replied. "And they've also disappeared."

"Hm, that may not be a great thing," Bakura said slowly.

"Why?"

"Mariku can get a little… Rough. Only sometimes though. I hope your friend is ok."

Marik's eyes widened. "Define rough."

"It's nothing to worry about, forget I said anything," Bakura said quickly. "I'm sure your friend will be fine." Eager to distract the Egyptian, Bakura bought him another drink and continued the conversation. Eventually Marik seemed to forget about their friends and focussed his attention solely on Bakura.

For his part, Bakura had no idea what he was doing. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want to let this boy leave unless he was going with him. That in itself was odd: Bakura had never really cared about anyone other than himself, but that had come with the upbringing he had gone through. He was selfish, that he knew, but right now he wasn't even thinking about himself, his attention was totally on Marik.

"So, whereabouts are you from?" Marik asked during a lull in the conversation. "Your accent is British so how did you end up in Japan?"

Bakura sighed. He had been hoping to avoid questions like this one. It wasn't in his nature to talk about his past. He decided to give as little information as possible.

"Well I was born in England, my parents died, I had to fend for myself, and I moved to Japan a few years ago. Nothing really interesting about me. Why are you here? You're from Egypt, right?" Bakura said this all in a rush as though the words might burn him, and when he had finished Marik was looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Not interesting, huh?"

"I don't talk about it," Bakura said shortly.

"Fair enough," Marik replied, shrugging. "And yes, I'm from Egypt. How did you know?"

"Mariku is too. You look alike."

"Really, I hadn't noticed," Marik said sarcastically before smiling.

This time it was Bakura's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I was just checking," he said lightly before taking another drink. "Why d'you leave?"

Marik looked down as memories from his past life flooded his brain. "It's not something I like to talk about either," he said quietly.

"Oh? How come?"

Marik couldn't answer. His father. Beatings. Bruises. Dark nights. Crying. Alone. He didn't want to think about it but they were all suddenly coming back to him and he couldn't stop them. He pressed a hand to his head.

Having tried to keep the memories at bay for so long they had built up in the back of his mind until they became too much, and now with one simple question the barrier keeping them away had broken. Blood. Threats. Punishment. Marik felt as though he was going to collapse from the weight of them.

"Hey, are you ok, Marik?"

Bakura. Bakura had put a hand on his arm and was looking at him with genuine concern through those piercing eyes. Marik knew he probably looked terrified right now and he could feel himself shaking, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Pain. Hatred. Fear.

Bakura's eyes.

Despair. Locked doors.

Concerned eyes.

His father.

A practical stranger.

It wasn't even a choice.

Marik chose Bakura over the memories, and before he knew what he was doing he had half stood and pressed himself against the white haired man, giving him a hug. The music seemed to fade and the world shrank to himself and Bakura, who after a moment's hesitation wound his arms around the scared Egyptian. Marik fought to supress the memories, and little by little he was able to build up the mental block again. He fought to forget.

It took a few minutes until Marik felt well enough to come back to the present. He realised he was still holding onto Bakura, and he quickly moved away, embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, looking away as he sat back down. "That happens sometimes."

Bakura was regarding him with an almost sympathetic look. "I understand," he said after a little hesitation. "Can't say I had the best childhood either."

They looked at each other and Marik smiled weakly. He wouldn't push Bakura to talk about his past, hell knew he himself couldn't even begin to explain his own.

Bakura was about to say something else when there was a shout from behind him.

"Marik!"

Marik whirled his head round at the sound of Ryou's voice and almost instantly his friend came into view. His shirt was undone and he appeared to be clutching his neck and side firmly. There was a look of terror and pain on his usually kind face.

"Ry, what the hell happened to you?" Marik asked, rushing to his friend and supporting him, his own troubles temporarily forgotten. Ryou seemed ready to pass out.

"He… Mariku… Get me out! Get me away!" the smaller boy gasped frantically.

It was at this moment Marik noticed the blood on Ryou's hands.

"What the hell?" The Egyptian rounded on Bakura, who was watching from his seat at the bar. "What the fuck did Mariku do to him?"

"I told you he was rough," Bakura said as he stood and hurried over to them. "But he's gone a while without an incident now, I thought he would be alright to leave him alone." He tried to examine the wounds Ryou was sporting, but the smaller boy pulled away, shrinking into Marik's side.

"I can't believe you let him be alone with Ryou if you knew he was like that," Marik practically yelled. He was already ashamed of his breakdown in front of Bakura and now the man was telling him he could have prevented Ryou being injured. It was too much for Marik.

Taking a firmer hold on Ryou's arm he fixed Bakura with a glare. "You stay away from us," he said icily. "And tell Mariku if I ever see him near Ryou again I'll kill him."

Before Bakura could reply the Egyptian said something to his friend before leading him away quickly. They disappeared from Bakura's line of sight in a matter of seconds, leaving him feeling slightly sick and trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Things had been going so well with Marik and then… Mariku had gone and fucked it up. Marik would never talk to him now.

Defeated, Bakura turned back to the bar and sat heavily on his chair. He hoped the pale kid would be okay, but he had seen Mariku do worse. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the spiky haired head of the crazy Egyptian searching the crowd. Catching sight of Bakura he came over, ignoring the glare that was being directed at him.

"Have you seen a little pale kid come this way? Kind of looks like you but cuter?" he asked, a slightly eerie gleam in his eyes. When Bakura didn't respond he waved a hand in front of his face. "Hey, you in there? I said have you-"

Bakura punched him in the face.