-4-

Malik squirmed in his seat, grimacing.

"You alright?" Bakura asked.

"Fine," Malik huffed.

Bakura knew better than to push the issue, so he went back to watching the movie after giving Malik's leg a comforting squeeze.

But a few minutes later Malik twisted around sharply, letting out a sound of irritation.

"You should—" Bakura started.

Before he could finish, Malik jumped up, groaning as he ripped his shirt off. But the motion he'd made was obviously too quick and rough, and Malik let out a fresh sound of pain before throwing his shirt to the ground in irritation and stomping off down the hallway.

Bakura followed to find him lying face down on their bed, his face screwed up in agony.

Bakura reached out to stroke his arm. "Hurt?"

Malik nodded, squeezing his eyes closed.

Bakura rushed off to the bathroom, and was soon back with a bottle of lavender oil. He wordlessly got on the bed to straddle Malik, and poured some of the oil over the scars on his back.

Malik sighed as Bakura began rubbing the oil over his back with gentle touches.

Bakura knew he couldn't make the pain disappear entirely, but the oil helped somewhat, and he knew his touch on Malik's scars brought him some comfort.

Once the oil was worked in, he would be able to massage him more firmly, and get rid of the tension in his muscles.

"Once upon a time," Bakura started, and saw Malik try to smile even through his discomfort.

When Malik's scars were bothering him, Bakura would make up random little stories to distract Malik from the pain.

"There was a little girl who was...let's see...an orphan," Bakura said. "That was because her parents got killed by...being gored by a bull. They sort of deserved it though, you know? I mean, what kind of jerks become bullfighters? Yeah, they were a husband and wife bullfighting duo. And they were known for being especially mean to the bulls, too.

"The little girl loved animals, so it had always made her sad that her parents were bullfighters. Still, though, she was pretty upset about them dying.

"Everyone in the village felt really sorry for her, but they couldn't do much for her since they were all really poor. That was because the king owned all the farmland and all the shops, so he took almost all of the profit they made, and only let them keep a small bit of the money, even though they did all the actual work.

"So the king didn't normally bother to help anyone in the village. But he heard of the little girl's plight, and remembered a sacred text he'd read that said orphans made the best heroes."

Bakura's fingers slowly traced each symbol on Malik's back, making sure to get the oil into every indentation. "Get it? Orphans? We're the best heroes?"

He felt Malik rumble with quiet laughter. "Yeah, I get it."

"So anyways," Bakura went on, "he told the girl she could come live in the palace and have all the luxuries she'd ever dreamed of if she would become a knight and help to protect the kingdom.

"The girl had nowhere else to go, so she agreed.

"She trained and trained, and it turned out she was really good at...uh, knighting. Yeah, she was a good knight."

Bakura felt Malik's body relax by degrees, and began to dig his fingers in harder, alternating between gentle caresses and kneading his hands into the taut muscles.

"So, anyways, years passed and she grew up," Bakura continued.

"So one day the king said that there was a dragon who had been stealing all the treasure from the palace, and asked the girl, who was now his best knight, to go and slay the dragon.

"The girl agreed and went to the cave where the dragon lived.

"The dragon roared and said, 'Oh, miss knight, you are so beautiful. Why would one so beautiful ever want to slay me?'

"The girl was confused because she had all her armor on, so the dragon couldn't see her. So she took off her...face mask thing? What's that fucking thing knights wear called? Is it just called a helmet?"

Bakura found another knot of tension in Malik's back, and rubbed at it until it loosened and Malik let out a sigh.

"Anyways she took it off and said, 'I am not beautiful, my face is covered in scars from all the knighting I've done over the years. Our armor kind of sucks, you see, because the king doesn't pay the workers who make it enough.'

"The dragon gasped and said, 'Oh, but you are beautiful! Your face is the most beautiful I've seen! More importantly, I can see your soul and I know that your ba is beautiful, your ka is beautiful, your ib is beautiful, all the parts of your soul are beautiful! One such as you should not want to kill an innocent.'

"The girl said, 'But you are not innocent, you have stolen from the king.'

"The dragon said, 'Yet, the king steals from his workers each day. So who's really the evil one? Huh?'

"The girl was confused. She had a job to do, and yet, she didn't want to kill a living creature who hadn't hurt anyone. She remembered how her parents had been gored to death by a bull due to their mistreatment of innocent animals."

Bakura paused for a moment, thinking about what would happen next in the story as his hands searched for another tense spot along Malik's back.

Then he thought of something and said, "But the girl was noble. So she said, 'I shall spend the night in this cave to test whether or not you are evil. I trust the gods will provide an answer by morning.'

"The dragon agreed. So they sat by the fire talking about their lives until late at night, and learned many things about each other. Then they went to bed."

All the tension seemed to have left Malik's muscles now, and Bakura pressed his palms flat against Malik's back, sliding them down from his shoulders to the small of his back and then up again. He continued the story.

"During the night, while the girl was sleeping, a bat came down and tried to bite her and turn her into a vampire. The dragon grabbed the bat in her great paws before it could bite the girl, and gently put the bat outside, explaining to the bat that it needed to ask first before turning someone into a vampire, because not everyone wanted to be a vampire, though some people did.

"The girl saw all this and was impressed. She said, 'Oh, dragon, you are not evil!' And she was so overwhelmed she gave the dragon a kiss on her snout.

"Well, the kiss turned the dragon into a beautiful princess. The dragon explained that she could turn back into a dragon whenever she wanted, but she liked to turn into a human if she was going to be kissing a human.

"This made the girl happy, and she fell in love with the dragon princess. The dragon princess loved her too, and they lived happily ever after."

Bakura was not very good at telling stories, but Malik didn't seem to mind. His muscles felt relaxed and supple now, and the expression on his face was calm, a small smile playing over his lips. Bakura was sure he was still experiencing a dull pain, but he'd been lulled into a state of relaxation through listening to Bakura's voice and feeling his caresses.

Bakura slid off of Malik and lay down next to him, and delicately traced his scars with his fingertips until he fell asleep.

-5-

Bakura leaned against the window sill, staring out of the glass, pretending he wasn't waiting for Malik to get home.

It was already dark out, so Malik should be back from work soon.

He squinted down into the parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of Malik's bike coming around the corner. But it was so dark he couldn't see a thing. Malik could be riding up to the apartment right now, and he'd never know it with how pitch black it was outside.

He suddenly realized that was weird. There should have been street lights on in the parking lot. Perturbed, he glanced away for a moment, thinking.

When he looked back, the parking lot was illuminated by the sodium lamps, as it should have been.

That was strange. But Bakura supposed the power had just been out for a moment. Street lights often flickered off for a bit before coming back on.

He sighed. He felt oddly shaken, and he didn't know why. He just wanted Malik to be home already. He was fucking bored out of his mind, and had been all day.

And staring out the window wasn't helping. He finally heaved himself away from the sill and crossed the living room to flop down onto the couch.

He picked up the remote, thinking he'd find something on television to pass the time. But as soon as he turned on the TV, he heard the doorknob jiggling.

Bakura flicked off the TV and turned to watch Malik storming into the apartment.

Malik was muttering and sighing to himself. He kicked off his shoes with much more force than was necessary, then ripped off his jacket and threw it onto the coat rack.

"Toss me your phone. I'll order takeout," Bakura said.

Malik heaved out an irritated sigh, but he dug into his coat pocket and retrieved his phone, throwing it to Bakura with a vicious "Fine."

Malik regarded Bakura with a glare as Bakura tapped at the screen. "Hope you're happy now," Malik said. "Bastard."

Bakura gave him a look of mock hurt. "And I was going to order from your favorite place, too. Is that attitude really the thanks I get?"

Malik sighed again, sounding almost pained. "I just wish we could get out of this place."

Bakura looked up from the phone, trying to plaster an innocent expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

But he knew he'd been caught out.

"I mean—" Malik started, but then he paused, almost seeming to lose his train of thought. "Whatever," Malik finally said, flopping down on the couch next to Bakura.

"Fine, if you're going to be like that," Bakura said. He paused, the silence spinning out between them for a moment. "I don't know why you're always angling for us to go out to dinner," Bakura eventually said, finally admitting what they both knew Malik was annoyed at him over.

"Yeah, going out to dinner," Malik said slowly. He shook his head, and his eyes seemed to clear. "I'm just sick of sitting around here all the time. Aren't you?"

"Why would I want to go out there?" Bakura retorted. "You always look miserable every time you get home."

"What are you talking about?" Malik said. Bakura had to roll his eyes at that. Malik was putting on his best impression at seeming to genuinely not know what he meant, but there was no way he was going to fool Bakura into forgetting the fact that he was always in an awful mood when he got home from work.

"Obviously, going out isn't good for your mental health," Bakura said. "We'll both be much happier staying in."

"I just get sick of cooking every damn night, that's all."

Bakura held up the phone, waggling it in front of Malik's face. "And that's why I'm ordering takeout. From your favorite place. Remember?"

"Yeah, alright," Malik conceded, shrugging his shoulders.

But Malik still didn't look entirely happy, so Bakura offered, "And hey, while we're waiting for it to get here, how about we play a game?"

"Not Monopoly!" Malik exclaimed, but he was laughing a bit now.

"No, we obviously wouldn't have time for that." For once, Bakura really wasn't in the mood to argue. He was strangely relieved to see Malik home, and he'd been wanting company all day. "We'll play something you like. Anything you want...if it'll get you to quit fucking complaining."

"When was I complaining?" Malik asked. Bakura didn't bother to dignify that with a response. Then Malik's eyes brightened as he seemed to fully realize what Bakura had said. "We can play anything I want? So, Donkey Kong Country Tropical Freeze?"

"Sure," Bakura said. He finished up ordering a vegetable dish for Malik, and one of the few beef dishes available from the place for himself, and put the phone down. "The food will be here in about half an hour."

Malik looked excited. "We need to finish the sixth world, and those last couple temples we didn't complete. I'm sure we can do it. Well, not in half an hour, but we can keep playing after dinner."

"Alright. I'll even let you be Dixie," Bakura said, being magnanimous.

Malik scoffed. "I don't need to be Dixie. I can handle being Donkey—you need to be Dixie, or you'll be dying every five seconds."

Bakura didn't even feel like retorting, and just gave Malik a smile. "Anything you want, Sunshine."

-6-

Malik stretched his arms over his head, giving Bakura a significant look. He looked down at himself, then back up at Bakura with a pointed expression.

"What?"

"Have you noticed I got a new shirt?"

Bakura snorted. "I don't notice your fashion statements." He reached out and ran a single finger over Malik's exposed midriff, making Malik squirm a bit. "I only notice the parts your clothes don't cover."

Malik laughed and reached down to protect his stomach. "This isn't a fashion statement, though. This shirt looks awful—it's not my color at all, and it's obviously cheaply made."

"Obvious to you, I guess. It looks the same as anything else you wear to me."

Malik rolled his eyes. "The point is, I didn't get it for fashion, I got it for you."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "You got an ugly shirt to wear for me...why?"

"Because it was really cheap, and I don't like it." Malik lidded his eyes. "So I wouldn't mind if you cut it off of me."

Bakura's eyes immediately lit up. Malik had never before let Bakura rip or cut any of his clothing—he was too attached to all his fancy garments. "You should have said so." Bakura pulled his pocket knife out and flicked it open, quickly swinging himself around to straddle Malik on the couch. He held the knife up between them, looking at Malik with excitement.

But then he set the knife aside and reached out to capture one of Malik's nipples between his thumb and forefinger, making Malik take in a sharp breath. He did the same with the other nipple, then rolled them both between his fingers through the thin fabric of the shirt. Malik leaned into him, his breath starting to come faster.

Bakura leaned in to press their lips together, and Malik's hands came to rest on his hips. Bakura circled his fingers around the outside of Malik's nipples before taking the stiffened buds between his fingertips again and giving them a light pinch and a gentle tug, drawing another gasp from Malik. He licked at Malik's lips, and Malik opened his mouth to let his tongue inside. Their tongues slid around each other, exploring each other's mouths for the thousandth time. Bakura continued to play with Malik's nipples as they kissed until Malik was panting against his mouth, his lips stilled, too distracted by the pleasure to properly kiss him any more.

Bakura drew back. "Do you want it off?" he asked in a low voice, nodding to Malik's shirt.

Malik gave an emphatic nod, his eyes already hazy with lust, and Bakura picked up the knife again. He slashed down the middle of Malik's shirt, splitting the front in half in one quick motion without so much a nicking Malik's skin. Then he placed two more expert cuts across the sleeveless shoulders of the shirt, allowing a simple shrug from Malik to let the shirt fall off of his body.

Malik buried his hand in Bakura's hair, grabbing his head and pulling it down to his chest. Bakura let himself be led, leaning down to latch his mouth onto Malik's right nipple. He circled his tongue, setting the knife aside again so he could use his other hand to grab Malik's now bare left nipple. Malik's breath picked up again as Bakura closed his teeth around the hard peak of Malik's nipple, nipping gently. He flicked at it with his tongue until Malik gasped, "Bedroom. Now."

Bakura smiled and stood, and Malik did the same, both of them rushing to the bedroom. Bakura lay down on the bed, and Malik jumped up to straddle him. Then a devious smile appeared on his face as he pulled something from behind his back, and Bakura's eyes widened as he saw that Malik had picked up his knife.

Malik brought the knife down towards Bakura's chest, and Bakura's eyes followed it down. Suddenly, he noticed the shirt he had on that day. "No! Wait!"

Malik scowled at Bakura's shirt, which was a black T-shirt imprinted with the words "Eating ass is the only ethical consumption under capitalism."

"This is my favorite shirt! You can cut up any of the others, but not this one."

Malik rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face, as he set the knife aside. "That shirt is so fucking stupid."

Bakura smirked. "You love it."

"What? Eating ass, or your dumb jokes?"

Bakura gave him a smug smile. "Both."

Malik sighed and gave Bakura an indulgent look, pulling the shirt over his head with one quick motion and then tossing the undamaged garment to the floor. They both struggled out of their pants, and then Malik picked up the knife again. "These aren't your favorite boxers or anything, are they?"

Bakura shook his head, his breath coming quicker as Malik lowered the knife again. Malik cut through the waistband near his hip, making quick work of the underwear before leaning down to lick and kiss at the tip of Bakura's erection.

Bakura was already starting to arch up, but Malik took his mouth away. He rolled onto his back next to Bakura. "Flip around and get on top."

Bakura understood what he wanted, and turned so he was facing Malik's feet, then climbed over top of him, on his hands and knees. As Malik began drawing his tongue across Bakura's balls, Bakura picked up the knife a final time and cut Malik's boxers away before throwing the blade to the floor.

Bakura leaned down and pressed his tongue against the tip of Malik's cock, lapping at the slit as he reached down to cup Malik's balls. He teased his tongue around the ridge for a few moments before finally sliding Malik's cock all the way into his mouth. As Malik took one of Bakura's balls into his mouth, Bakura started moving his head, slipping his lips all the way to the base before pulling back to suck on the tip and flick at it with his tongue.

Malik couldn't seem to help rocking his hips as he released Bakura's ball from his mouth and started licking the skin again. He licked backwards, using his hands to guide Bakura's hips until he reached his asshole. Bakura gave a muffled squeak as Malik drew his tongue around the outside of Bakura's hole.

For a bit Bakura sucked more vigorously in excitement, bobbing his head quickly, but as Malik's tongue continued to flutter over the sensitive skin of his entrance, he shivered and paused, whimpering around Malik's cock.

He tried to begin moving his head again, but his movements were sluggish; he was too distracted by the intense sensation to concentrate on anything else. Then Malik's tongue was gone from his skin, his hips being shifted again, and a few seconds later Malik swallowed his cock all the way down and Bakura moaned loud and low in his throat.

Bakura rocked his hips, and Malik stayed mostly still, letting Bakura guide the movements as Bakura swirled his tongue around the head of Malik's dick.

Bakura felt a spit-slick finger poking at his entrance, and he rocked back harder to encourage it. Two of Malik's fingers penetrated him, and Bakura swallowed and pushed Malik's cock all the way to the back of his throat. Malik moaned around Bakura's dick, raising his head a little to take it deeper.

Bakura's nails dug into Malik's thighs as Malik's fingers found the right spot inside him. Bakura paused for just a second, then started moving again, quickly, swaying his whole body, drawing his own dick in and out of Malik's mouth as he did the same to Malik, sucking hard and taking him in as deep as he could.

Then it was Malik who lost control, and Bakura felt Malik's fingers leave him, Malik's hands coming up to his hips and squeezing hard enough that Bakura knew he'd earn fingertip-shaped bruises. Malik breathed heavily, and Bakura was encouraged to redouble his efforts at hearing Malik's soft moans muffled by Bakura's own dick.

He felt Malik's cock pulse in his mouth, his hips twitching up with desperation, and for just a few seconds he slowed down, deliberately drawing Malik's erection in and out of his mouth as he glided his tongue along the soft skin, circling it over the spots he knew drove Malik the most crazy, along the ridge and over the slit and against the foreskin. Malik whined with need, and Bakura sped up again. He took him all the way in over and over at a fast pace with his tongue flattened and pushing against the sensitive skin, tasting the liquid continually leaking from the tip. Malik's hands left his hips to bury themselves in his hair, tugging, and Bakura made a small sound of pleasure as he kept up his pace. It was less than a minute before Malik released Bakura's cock from his mouth and threw his head back to cry out with orgasm, yelling Bakura's name.

Bakura applied suction as Malik spasmed and came, swallowing every bit. Before Malik was done, he latched his mouth back onto Bakura's cock, groaning around it as he emptied himself. When Malik was finally spent, Bakura began thrusting into Malik's mouth. Malik let him, opening his throat and working his tongue, allowing Bakura's cock to go as deep as he could take it until Bakura called out, coming down Malik's throat. Malik sucked and swallowed, taking in everything Bakura had until Bakura was satiated and finally went limp with satisfaction.

For a few seconds they lay like that, both still breathing heavily, muscles pleasantly exhausted and weak from their completion. Then Bakura dragged himself up and flipped back around rightways, collapsing against Malik's side. Malik put his arm around him, and Bakura snuggled into the crook of his arm. He leaned in to trail little kisses along Malik's collarbone, and Malik sighed happily.

The light in the room seemed especially bright, and Bakura closed his eyes to it. He felt a kiss on the top of his head, and he mimicked Malik's sigh as Malik's hands petted along the damp skin of his stomach and chest.

Bakura's eyes drifted open again briefly, and he felt dizzy for a moment at how vibrant the colors of their bedspread suddenly seemed, though it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. But he closed his eyes again as everything seemed to pulse around him as if with heka, the brightness of the light making him want to curl closer to Malik and relax in the bliss of the afterglow.

Malik continued to stroke his skin, and Bakura idly did the same to him, until a few minutes later when his stomach growled.

"Mm. You should make me dinner."

Malik chuckled softly, giving a playful tug to Bakura's hair. "Asshole."