Heyo guys, me again. :D So this one was inspired by the fact that I have a sore throat right now... although writing Thiefshipping makes things a lot better. So it's for you guys and for myself! :D

By the way, it's Bakura who gets sick here, not Marik. It's usually Marik so I thought I'd switch things up. :3 Enjoy, and please review! I love reading them! (Hope you guys are liking this so far, by the way! The next oneshot will probably be on the serious side, since this one is pure humor.)

It was no wonder Bakura was sick. Being a thief, he was always throwing himself into ungodly places filled with disease and germs. If Ishizu were here, she'd probably be scolding his head off.

But, unfortunately for Marik, Ishizu wasn't home. Odion was, but he didn't have the 'medical skills' that Marik had. (At least, when you compared them both to Ishizu.)

And so, Marik was babysitting his sick boyfriend, who was currently lying on his bed upstairs.

"Ah," Odion walked past the kitchen and smiled. "That smells good, Mast - I mean, Marik."

Marik beamed proudly. "Uh huh! It's for Bakura. He said he wanted something to eat, so I made him chicken noodle soup." He ladled some of the pot's contents into a bowl, and slipped in a spoon.

Odion watched, eyebrow raised, as his brother scurried about the kitchen; pouring juice, getting napkins... while wearing Ishizu's frilly black-and-white apron.

"You know how to cook, Marik?"

Marik whipped around and glared at Odion, 'hmphing' indignantly. "Of course I do!" He balanced the bowl on a tray, along with the glass of cranberry juice (Bakura loathed orange juice) and began making his way upstairs, pouting at the laughter he heard behind him.

Once he reached Bakura's door, he knocked ever so slightly on it, and once he received Bakura's hoarse "what" in response, he opened the door and slipped inside, then shut it softly behind him.

Bakura lay on the bed - actually, he was sitting up straight playing video games.

Marik fumed.

"Bakura! You're supposed to be resting!" The blonde huffed as he placed the tray on the nightstand. "You're not gonna get better if you just play video games all day!"

"Says who?" Bakura croaked, barely concealing a grin when Marik's eyes narrowed even further.

"Says me, your boyfriend!"

The tomb-robber's grin widened - if that was physically possible - and he looked into annoyed violet eyes. "Why can't you just... make me feel better, then?"

Marik blinked for a moment, then scoffed once he realized what was being implied. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Mhm. So what'd you bring me?"

Aaaandddd he was back to being like a greedy child.

Marik tossed him one last glare before taking the tray and placing it on his boyfriend's lap. "Chicken noodle soup and cranberry juice. And medicine, of course."

"Mmm. What a thoughtful boyfriend I have." Bakura hummed as he sipped the juice, smirking in contentment. Marik, on the other hand, was watching the other boy drink with narrowed eyes.

"That wasn't sarcastic, was it."

Bakura glanced up from the cranberry juice.

And grinned.

"Was it?"

Bakura sighed dramatically and placed the now-half-full glass onto the tray. "Of course it wasn't, Marik. You know I love you. Are you doubting me?"

Marik shook his head, letting out a little sigh of his own. "Of course I'm not, Bakura. It's just... I dunno... I feel kinda left out sometimes." Bakura raised an eyebrow. "You're always off thieving and you never bring me along, so I'm stuck here by myself all day until you get back. I miss you."

The room was silent for a moment, before Bakura broke it. "Although I'm not too keen on having you join me on my... er, missions, I do agree we should spend some more time together. So... let's make a deal. After I get better, we can go out and do whatever you want for a whole week."

"Why not every day?" Marik pouted.

Bakura snarled indignantly. "I still want to thieve, you know!"

"Then why don't you take me with you?"

"I'm too bloody protective for that!"

"Protective?! I - actually, that's kinda sweet 'Kura. Aw." Bakura glared and ducked his head, cheeks flushing a slight pink.

"Marik?"

Both boys turned and looked at the doorway, where Ishizu stood with a confused - and amused - look on her face.

"Why are you wearing my apron?"

Bakura's head snapped up so fast Ishizu was shocked he didn't get whiplash. Her brother, on the other hand, huffed and crossed his arms.

"Because it's the only friggin' apron we have in the house and I needed one."

Ishizu shook her head, smiling. "If that's the case, dear brother, I can always go and purchase one for you. How does that sound, Bakura?"

Marik blinked. "Bakura?" He glanced over his shoulder. The thief was currently eyeing him with a certain gleam in his eye, tongue sliding back and forth across his lips.

"No, no. I quite like this one."

"That's what I thought," Ishizu snickered, smiling at the spectacle before she quickly excused herself from the room.

Marik watched his sister go, scowling at the door. He almost jumped when he felt hands gliding over his hips, hot breath ghosting over his ear.

"You know, Marik," Bakura whispered, grinning, "that medicine of yours helps... but I'm sure I'd feel much better if you could provide me with a little more... assistance."

"No, you idiot! You'll get me sick!"

"Seriously? What happened to wanting more contact, mmm?"

"I said more time together, you jerk! Stop trying to kiss me!"

"No."

"You'll make me sick Bakur-AH! Would you stop that?!"

"No."

"Bakuraaaaaa!"

Downstairs, Ishizu listened and shook her head. "Here we go again," she sighed.