-13-

Malik ran with him through the dark, stumbling as he attempted to pull Bakura along.

Bakura tried with all his might to keep up, but something was wrong. Every time he put his left foot down, he was consumed by an immense pain, and his leg buckled underneath him.

He couldn't remember how he'd gotten injured.

Malik had an arm around him, trying to hold him up and help him along, but it was no use. They were too slow, and the thunderous sound behind them was getting closer.

Bakura didn't know what was making that sound, but he knew they had to get away from it.

Another flash of pain, and Bakura fell to his knees. Malik knelt beside him, trying to help him up, speaking to him urgently. The sound behind them finally coalesced into something meaningful, and Bakura realized he was hearing galloping footsteps. And he knew anything with footsteps so heavy must be huge.

Finally, Bakura managed to stand.

But they only made it a few steps before Bakura felt something cold latch onto his arm and coil around it. The touch of it made his skin crawl, and terror shot through him as he felt the unknown thing pulling him backwards, away from Malik. He tried to hold onto Malik, but the strength of whatever was grasping him was too great, and despite his efforts he was jerked out of Malik's grip.

The force of it caused his feet to slide out from under him, and he cried out as he was dragged away. Then Malik was yelling, running after him. Bakura thrashed and struggled, but the grip only became tighter as whatever held him bore him farther away into the darkness.

But Malik was keeping up, panting as he pumped his arms and legs to dash after Bakura.

Suddenly, Bakura felt himself being flung through the air. He slammed into something hard, and it knocked the wind out of him for a second. For several moments he struggled to get up, breathing heavily and fighting against the pain in his body, until he came to the realization he wasn't on the ground. He was somehow suspended in the air, and it wasn't his broken leg that was keeping him from moving. Every muscle in his body was paralyzed. He couldn't even scream.

He still couldn't see what had grabbed him, but he did see Malik, shining with a golden halo of light as he finally reached him. Malik stretched up, extending his arms towards him.

But a moment before Malik's hands touched him, something shot out of the blackness surrounding them and knocked him away from Bakura.

It happened too quickly for Bakura to process. The thing that had swatted Malik away was a blur in front of his eyes, and somehow darker than the pitch darkness all around them.

He saw where Malik had landed, face down on the ground in front of him. For several seconds he could see nothing besides Malik and the darkness, but finally something else came into focus and he could see why Malik didn't seem to be able to get up—there was a gigantic demon atop him, holding him down. The demon was all blackness and teeth and claws, and somehow Bakura couldn't comprehend its form beyond those features.

But then the demon locked eyes with Bakura, and he was able to see the pools of yellow staring at him as the demon sunk its long claws into Malik's shoulders.

Malik shrieked as the claws raked down his back, opening wide gashes of red as his scars were torn apart, his flesh peeling away under the razor sharp talons.

Bakura struggled, tried to scream, tried to get to Malik, but the invisible bonds held him, making it impossible for him to move so much as a centimeter.

Malik cried out again as the claws of the demon slashed at him once more, tearing away so much flesh Bakura could see a flash of white bone.

Bakura's mind locked up, as if the paralysis had spread from his body to his brain. He didn't want to see this, but he wouldn't have allowed himself to look away even if he could have. Every nerve in his body screamed with panic and horror, but he still couldn't move a muscle.

Malik was wailing in agony, the demon continuing to rip away chunks of his back, tearing at the skin and muscles until nothing was left but a pulverized mass of red. A pool of bright blood was slowly spreading around Malik.

The demon was still staring at Bakura, drinking in his reaction, but now Bakura's eyes were locked with Malik's. Malik's eyes were full of pain, but somehow steady, determined. The golden halo of light hadn't left him.

The demon reared back to slash again at Malik's ruined flesh.

Bakura awoke with a start. He groaned. Another nightmare. It had never exactly been uncommon for him to have dark dreams of moaning spirits and torture-happy demons, but it really did seem like they were getting more frequent lately. And this one had been even more disturbing than usual...he shuddered as he remembered the image of the flesh of Malik's back being torn from his bones by the demon.

Malik...he sat up suddenly and looked around.

He was alone in their bed. Malik was nowhere to be seen.

"Malik?" Bakura called out, trying to sound casual. Maybe he was just in the bathroom.

But he wasn't. Bakura checked every room in their small apartment, and Malik was nowhere to be found.

Bakura's heart raced in his chest as panic closed in on him. For a few moments, he felt as paralyzed as he had been in his dream. His mind filled with images of Malik's bloody and broken body, and he felt unable to focus on anything else.

But he knew he had to calm down, knew that letting himself spiral into a total meltdown would only make things worse and wouldn't help him figure out where Malik was.

He tried to force himself to take deep breaths as he told himself to think about this rationally. It wasn't exactly normal for Malik to be out at night, but it was nothing to lose his head over. It wasn't as if it were impossible for Malik to have gone out because he needed something from the store, or even just because he wanted to take a night ride on his bike. He was always complaining about wanting to get out and get some fresh air.

Bakura was in the living room by now, and he slowly turned towards the door. He actually felt relief when he saw Malik's leather jacket wasn't hanging on the coatrack in the entryway. He walked closer to check the little bowl under the rack where Malik kept his keys and other small items, and saw that his keys were missing as well.

So, Malik had just gone out. It was really no big deal. He was only freaking out because he was so shaken from that awful nightmare, but Malik going down the street to the store at night wasn't the end of the world.

Still, though, he knew he'd never get back to sleep, not without Malik here, even though he felt indescribably drained and tired. But Malik would surely be back soon. He just needed something to distract himself with until Malik got home. So he decided to select a book and read it in bed while he waited for Malik to return.

He pulled a copy of Watership Down from the bookshelf, hoping the tale would somehow help calm his fried nerves. He didn't normally read fantasy books about animals, but Malik had convinced him to give it a try by showing him the animated film of the book. Bakura had been charmed by the fact that the cartoon was full of things like dark visions and death and blood, as if it were a horror movie for children.

The book couldn't be considered horror though, and was much tamer than anything he'd normally read. So he got into bed with his book, hoping to lose himself in it until Malik came home.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he woke up with Malik's body draped over his. He thought of his nightmare and its aftermath instantly, and felt a wave of relief that Malik was here, whole and safe in his arms. He snuggled against him, and his slight movements caused Malik to begin to stir.

"Morning, Sunshine," Bakura said gently.

"Hm?" asked Malik, sounding confused.

Bakura's face flushed as he realized his mistake. Usually he only used the nickname sarcastically. "I said, get up and get me breakfast."

"Mmph." Malik was still half asleep, and if he'd noticed Bakura's slip, he seemed too out of it to really remember.

Bakura proceeded to poke him to wake him up fully. "Breakfast," he repeated.

He didn't really consider telling Malik about his nightmare. Sometimes he did talk about his bad dreams to Malik, but something about this one—namely, the way Malik was shrieking in agony as the flesh of his back was ripped from his body—made Bakura shy away from mentioning it to him. So there was no reason to mention Malik's little midnight excursion either. Malik would want to know why Bakura had been awake to notice it.

"Alright, alright," Malik mumbled. "But you're getting cereal."

Bakura smiled.

-14-

Bakura gave an exaggerated stretch. "My muscles are kind of sore."

Malik scoffed. "How could you possibly be sore? You do fuck all besides sit on your ass all the time."

Bakura ignored that comment. "You should give me a massage," he said.

Malik raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I should, should I?"

"Yeah. And not just a back rub—a full body massage."

"I ought to say no," Malik said, but his hand was already sneaking under Bakura's shirt to rub at his lower back.

Bakura had known he would do it. Malik never denied Bakura when he asked for physical touch.

Bakura had spent so long being completely touch starved, first alone in the desert and then alone in the Ring. He thought Malik was the first person he'd truly touched since he was a young child in his mother's arms.

So he needed Malik's touch, needed Malik's hands on every part of him making his entire body feel amazing, needed the closeness and affection and the knowledge that Malik wanted to give it.

Malik understood what he was really asking for when he asked for a massage, so he never told him no.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't rib him a little.

"Considering how rudely you asked—well, commanded—me to do it, I should at least demand something in return before I agree." Bakura chuckled a bit as Malik's hands continued to travel up his back. "But I won't," Malik continued. "You know why?"

"Why's that?"

Malik went to pull Bakura's shirt over his head, and Bakura helped him get it off. "Well, first of all…I can't get enough of touching you," Malik said, his tone turning sultry. "And I enjoy making you feel good."

"Mmm." Bakura leaned further in to Malik's touch.

"And secondly," Malik said with a smirk, "I know by the time I'm done, you'll do anything I want anyways."

Bakura scoffed, even as he squirmed with pleasure at the feeling of Malik's hands on his skin. "We'll see about that. Maybe if you make it really good."

Malik laughed. "Oh, come on." He drew Bakura closer, lowering his voice to an intimate whisper and nuzzling against Bakura's ear. "You know you always want to make love afterwards."

Bakura was sure Malik could feel the powerful shivers that coursed through his body at his words.

Bakura never called sex that—at least not out loud—but Malik did on rare occasions, and it always overwhelmed Bakura a bit, sending a little thrill of desire and euphoria through him and making him feel warm and soft inside, and he could never quite stop himself from trembling with it.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and go lie down on the bed," Malik said, and Bakura immediately jumped up to do so.

Bakura stripped off his jeans and boxers on the way to the bedroom, making a quick stop by the bathroom on the way to toss his discarded clothes into the dirty laundry basket, because he knew Malik would complain later on if he left them on the floor instead. That done, he went to lie face down on the bed, his arms stretched above him.

Malik removed his own clothes before joining him, then climbed up on the bed to straddle him.

Malik started with his fingers, giving each one a pull as he massaged his palm. Bakura emitted soft sounds of pleasure as Malik moved down his arm, his hands encircling it and squeezing firmly until he reached his shoulder, and then Malik did the same thing to Bakura's other hand and arm.

Bakura sighed happily as Malik began to scratch and massage his scalp, combing his fingers through his storm of messy white hair.

Malik's hands moved to rub at the base of his neck, and then his shoulders. He smoothed his hands along the skin of his back, traveling up and down a few times before going back to his shoulders, digging his fingers into the muscles there.

Bakura couldn't stop sighing as Malik alternated between scratching and rubbing his back until every bit of tension was worked out of his muscles. As Malik's hands worked, he occasionally leaned down to brush his lips over Bakura's skin, trailing soft kisses along his spine that made Bakura shiver.

Bakura felt weightless as Malik's hands continued to move down his body, massaging and stroking every centimeter of skin all the way down to his toes.

Bakura knew he must have looked dizzy with pleasure by the time Malik had touched every part of his body that he could reach and had him flip over. Malik gave the same treatment to his front, touching and rubbing and kneading his muscles and dotting little kisses over his skin.

Bakura's eyes were closed as he lost himself in Malik's touch, concentrating on the feeling of his hands on his body and the enjoyment of being touched absolutely everywhere, and feeling content with the knowledge that Malik wanted to give this to him and enjoyed it as much as he did.

Bakura had instinctively spread his legs, and his breathing quickened when Malik's hands brushed along his inner thighs, though he knew Malik wouldn't touch anything between his legs until he was done with the massage.

Once Malik's hands had been over every bit of his skin, he moved to lie on top of Bakura, pressing their naked bodies together. Malik nuzzled against his neck, and they enjoyed the closeness for a moment before Malik sat up again.

Malik reached down to tease Bakura's nipples for a bit before finally moving down to stroke his erection and cup his balls. Bakura let out a little sound of pleasure, arching up into Malik's touch.

Bakura was beyond ready, and Malik knew it, so he only played with him for a bit before he reached over to pull open the drawer on their nightstand and retrieve the lube.

Bakura never really needed preparation, though Malik gave it to him sometimes in order to tease him. But Malik wasn't going to make him wait this time, so he coated his own cock and positioned himself between Bakura's legs.

As Malik finally entered him, Bakura let out a low, satisfied moan at the feeling of fullness and of Malik being exactly where he belonged. Malik gave a sweet sigh in response, leaning down to kiss Bakura's lips as he began to move.

They rocked together slowly, exchanging soft kisses and stroking each other's skin, only speeding up towards the end when they both began to near completion and couldn't hold back anymore. Their kisses became rougher as their thrusts quickened, Malik's hand moving over Bakura's erection in time with the shared rhythm of the gyration of their hips.

Bakura called out Malik's name as he came, and Malik followed soon after, pressing into Bakura as deeply as possible as he released inside of him. When he was spent, Malik went limp with satisfaction, and lay on top of Bakura like that for several moments. They shared a few more kisses before Malik pulled out and rolled off of Bakura to lie next to him.

Bakura gazed at Malik with sleepy eyes, and Malik smiled and reached out to twirl a lock of Bakura's hair around his finger. They both radiated satiation as they stared at each other and let their fingers wander over each other's skin and shared the occasional kiss.

Finally, Bakura flipped onto his other side, and Malik spooned up behind him. Malik slipped an arm around his middle, and Bakura reached down to lace their fingers together.

Bakura blinked as he gazed at the wall across from them. When they were tangled together in the afterglow of their lovemaking, somehow everything seemed to be more bright, more real. It wasn't even a metaphor—everything really did seem to him to somehow to be more there in those moments. Not Malik himself, for some reason, but everything else in their apartment, even the walls themselves.

It didn't only happen when they had sex. Bakura also noticed it often when they were just close and cuddling, sometimes when they were laughing together or talking, and even occasionally when they were bickering. But always when they had sex.

Bakura was sure the effect was just in his mind, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Something about it made him feel more safe; protected—though he didn't know from what.

But he was sleepy and comfortable, so he closed his eyes against the brightness and let himself drift off as he snuggled deeper into Malik's embrace.

-15-

Malik burst into the apartment, slamming the door behind him, a sour look on his face as usual.

Bakura glanced up at him from his place on the couch, unable to help noticing the way the sunlight streaming in through the window caught his golden hair. "Hey, Sunshine," he said. "Tough day at work?"

"What do you think?" Malik sneered.

"You know, it's your own damn fault you're always in a bad mood like this. I don't know why you insist on having a job at all. Don't you have plenty of money from your clan?"

Instead of answering, Malik gave him a withering look and said, "I'm starved, and I really don't feel like cooking tonight. Can we please go out, for once?"

"You know how much I hate going out," Bakura argued. "It's too much of a hassle, and for what? It's noisy, and crowded, and it's always too hot or too cold, and worst of all, there are people out there. I fucking hate people. And don't tell me you don't, too."

Malik rolled his eyes. "How would you know what it's like going out? When was the last time you even left the apartment?"

Bakura shrugged. "Fuck if I know."

Malik turned to throw his jacket onto the coat rack, and when he turned back, he gave Bakura a significant look. "No, seriously, Bakura...do you remember the last time you left this place?"

"Of course, I—" Bakura broke off as he suddenly realized he really couldn't remember. But that was silly. Of course he must have left at some point.

A loud sigh from Malik distracted him from his thoughts. "Fine, if you're going to be a stubborn ass like always, I guess I'll order takeout," Malik said.

Malik pulled out his phone and began scrolling. Bakura closed his eyes briefly, suddenly feeling very tired.

But only moments later, the loud sound of static made him pop his eyes open again. As soon as he did, his vision was assaulted with the sight of gray and black snow blaring from the television set. He fumbled around for the remote, finally finding it on the end table, and clicked the power button to turn off the TV.

Once the TV was off, he was suddenly enveloped by total darkness. He didn't know why that panicked him for a moment. All he could think of was trying to get some kind of light on. He stumbled over to the wall, groping for the switch. He finally found it, and the room was flooded with light again.

As his racing heart slowed, it began to hit him that none of this made sense.

It was night out now, even though it had been daytime only moments ago.

And there was no reason for the lights to have been off. The lights were never off.

And moreover...Malik wasn't in the room with him any longer.

He barked out a nervous laugh as the realization washed over him. He had been dreaming, of course. He remembered now...it was the middle of the night, and he'd fallen asleep watching TV.

He wandered into the bedroom, assuming he'd find Malik there asleep.

But the bed was empty.

He was shaken for a moment, but then he scolded himself, telling himself there was no reason to be upset. Malik must have gone on another of his midnight rides, like he had the last time Bakura had woken up in the middle of the night.

Great, he thought. Perfect timing.

Of course Malik always had to happen to be out every time he had a nightmare lately.

But had it even been a nightmare? He no longer remembered exactly what had happened in the dream. He'd just been arguing with Malik about...something...and then the TV static had woken him.

Well, it didn't matter. He wasn't a child. He didn't need Malik with him every second. He was perfectly capable of sleeping on his own occasionally.

With that thought, he climbed into bed and firmly shut his eyes. He'd go back to sleep, and Malik would be home by the time he woke up again.

Bakura woke to the sun. He felt breath on his neck, and the weight of an arm draped around his middle. He turned to face Malik.

"Morning," Malik yawned.

"Morning," Bakura answered. He thought about asking Malik where he'd gone last night, but something stopped him. He didn't want Malik to think he wasn't allowed to go out occasionally because Bakura was so weak and needy he couldn't even function on his own for a few hours at night. Malik already complained enough that Bakura wouldn't go out with him...was he going to tell him he couldn't even get out the house by himself, either? He knew Malik felt cooped up sometimes. He supposed anyone would, being locked underground for his entire childhood. He knew he really should consider taking Malik out sometime.

But not today. He hadn't slept well, and all he wanted was to stay home and relax for the day.

Malik gave him a sleepy smile. "So, what do you want to do today?"

Bakura assumed Malik must not be going to work today; otherwise, he wouldn't be asking that. He was glad of it. The idea of spending the day alone in the apartment without Malik made him feel more nervous than he wanted to admit. He supposed he was still just feeling strange due to the weird night he'd had.

"Movie marathon?" Bakura suggested, hoping Malik would be amenable, and wouldn't suggest going out.

"Hm, sure," Malik said. "Do you want breakfast first?"

"Actually...how about I make breakfast today?"

Malik looked at him like he'd gone crazy. "Did you hit your head in your sleep, or something?"

"Hey, I know how to cook, you know! I had to do it for myself every day when I was last alive. I'll bet it's way easier now, what with packaged food and stoves and everything."

"Ha! I have got to see this." Malik laughed.

Bakura swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Well, prepare to be impressed."

Malik gave him a sardonic smile and followed him into the kitchen.

Bakura went to the refrigerator. Deciding to start with the simplest thing first, he pulled out their carton of orange juice, then fetched two glasses and filled them.

After setting the glasses on the table, he stood in the kitchen tapping his foot, thinking. Usually, they had separate breakfasts since Bakura liked meat and Malik didn't, but there was absolutely no way he was cooking two different things. So he had to come up with something to make that they could both tolerate.

As Bakura hesitated, Malik gave him an amused look from the entryway where he stood watching him. "Need any help?" he teased.

"No!" Bakura snapped.

He turned around purposefully and began hunting for fruit. Once he had a banana, an apple, some strawberries, and some leftover melon slices Malik hadn't finished and had put in a container in the refrigerator, he got to work. He may not have been a great cook, but he certainly had skills with a knife. He cut up the fruit and then divided the pieces into two bowls, giving Malik all of the cantaloupe since Bakura couldn't stand the taste of melon.

Once he put the bowls on the table, Malik said, "This is great and all, but didn't you say you were going to cook?"

"I am! Give me a minute, damn."

Bakura had spent more time thinking of what to make as he'd cut up the fruit, and he thought he'd finally come up with a good idea. He found a couple potatoes and set them on the counter. "Where do we keep, you know, that thing you use to shred stuff?"

Malik raised his eyebrows. "The grater?" He pointed to a cabinet.

Bakura found it, as well as a bowl, and began grating the potatoes.

"Hashbrowns?" Malik guessed.

"Hopefully that meets with your approval."

"Sure, that's fine, but...you should go ahead and start heating up the pan before you finish shredding those. Otherwise you'll be standing around waiting."

"Fine, you know-it-all," Bakura said. He got out a pan and set it on the stove before going back to his task.

"Um...the stove kind of needs to be on for the pan to heat up, Bakura." Malik smirked at him.

"I know that!" Bakura yelled. He went over and snapped the knob to the right, turning the stove on.

He went back to shredding the potatoes. "When you're cooking with fire, it's not like you have to mess with buttons or wait for it to heat up or anything," Bakura muttered, and Malik chuckled.

Once the potatoes were finally shredded, Bakura went to dump them into the pan. He could see Malik trying not to laugh too much as he reminded him that he actually needed to put butter in the pan first. Bakura gave him a scowl as he got out the butter and threw some into the pan.

Still, Bakura felt he was victorious in the end, because he watched the potatoes very closely to make sure they didn't burn, and Malik didn't dare make fun of him for his extreme concentration, because it served its intended purpose. Bakura even decided to make the potatoes a little fancier by putting some slices of cheddar cheese on top. The cheese melted quickly, and he took the hash browns out of the pan and divided them onto two plates, sprinkling some bacon bits from a canister onto his own.

Finally, they sat down to their meal. Malik took a bite of the cheesy potatoes and smiled. "This is actually good."

"I told you so!" Bakura said proudly.

"Alright, fine, you were right," Malik said with a grin, wisely choosing not to mention Bakura's near-mistakes that he'd had to correct. Bakura beamed at him.

"Thanks for making breakfast. Now, if only I could get you to do the dishes afterwards…"

Bakura winked at him. "We'll see."