You are cordially invited to celebrate the union of Mr. Ryou Bakura and Mr. Bakura Necrophades at one o'clock on the fifth of June in the year two thousand eleven at the Necrophades Manor in the Ryukyu Islands.


Ryou gazed out at the sea from the balcony adjoined to his room in the Necrophades' estate, watching a flock of seagulls fly over the perfectly blue water. He wished he could be that carefree. With a sigh, he turned and walked into his room and over to his bed for the thousandth time that day, running his fingers carefully over the white tuxedo that had been laid out for him. The material felt soft and smooth against his fingertips, and he immediately started to imagine walking down the aisle towards Bakura in it. He took a large breath of air to calm his nerves; it didn't help, not that it ever did, but it always brought on a feeling of gratitude that he could breathe like that at all.

He walked out onto the marble balcony again, placing his hands on the railing and leaning out. The room was close enough to the ocean that he could just barely feel the spray from the ocean against his face. A sudden gust of wind threatened to blow the large-brimmed sunhat off of his head, but he placed a hand on top of it just in time. The wind whipped at his long, baggy, white pants, making them billow out. Ryou chuckled a little at himself. Coupled with the pants, he had on a long sleeved, skintight, white shirt and a pair of wooden sandals that he found at the bottom of his closet. They looked kind of traditional as far as footwear went, but they were better than the cloth ones he had brought along. The long clothes were because, even though it was nearly eighty degrees Fahrenheit on the island, he was always cold nowadays. Apparently, cancer does that to a person. He still had the beanie that Mr. Necrophades had given him; it had come in handy more times than Ryou could count. Plus, it wouldn't do to get sun burned on his wedding day.

A glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table told him it was twelve thirty. Great. Yuugi and Malik would be there any minute to help him get ready for the ceremony. Ryou let out a small moan. It wasn't that he didn't want to marry Bakura; he loved the man! No, he had just woken up feeling very off, and while he had improved marginally since then, he still didn't want to pass out in front of all of their guests.

The guests! Ryou let himself collapse on the bed next to his tuxedo, moaning again. Since the Necrophades were very politically involved, there had been at least one hundred influential people invited that would be scrutinizing the couple all day. In spite of Ryou and Bakura's lobbying for a more private ceremony, Bakura's father insisted that it was necessary for their company's image to keep the ceremony as public as possible, though he didn't want that much public eye on the wedding, either. Ryou had gotten the option to invite fifty people of his own choosing, but he only ended up inviting his parents, Yuugi, Malik, Anzu, Miho, Honda, Otogi, and Jounouchi. The rest of the invitations had gone to either Bakura's friends or political affiliates of the Necrophades family.

Suddenly, Malik barged into the room with Yuugi hot on his heels, making Ryou jump up at their abrupt entrance. He was brandishing a straightening iron and a brush while Yuugi was carrying something that looked suspiciously like a make-up bag, and they were both already wearing their black tuxedos for the wedding. "Hey, Ryou!" Malik greeted, not knowing that he had just scared the hell out of his friend, "Ready to get all fixed up?"

"What's wrong with the way I look now?" Ryou asked defensively, moving to look in the set of three full length mirrors that had been set up in his room.

Malik wrinkled his nose, moving to stand behind Ryou. "Your hair is an absolute mess and you look paler than normal. Are you feeling alright?" he asked, laying the back of his palm against Ryou's forehead.

"Not really, but what can I do?" he asked, closing his eyes slowly as Malik began to run the brush through his hair to get the tangles out.

"That's true, I guess," Yuugi piped up, eyeing the white tuxedo warily. His eyes flicked to Ryou skeptically before going back to the garment. "Uhm, Malik, I'm no expert, but won't this completely wash him out? I mean, Ryou's pale to start with, but this…"

Malik, turned back to look at the tux. "Gods, you're right. Good thing I brought my bag."

"Don't paint my face with that goopy, tan stuff," Ryou pleaded, imagining himself with orange skin and shuddering.

Malik laughed. "I don't have your shade, dear Ryou, and fake bake is completely out. No, I'll just give you a little color on your cheeks. It'll be fine."

He plugged his straightening iron into the wall, and while he waited for it to heat up, he took the bag from Yuugi and began pawing through it. "I think I'll use a light pink blush for your cheekbones and a light beige for the apples of your cheeks," he said to himself, biting on the tip of his tongue. His fingers closed around the two shades of blush, and he picked out the beige one.

Ryou raised one of his eyebrows. "Blush is for girls," he stated simply. He was purposely trying to get under his friend's skin, but he needed an outlet for his nervous tension.

Malik, however, wouldn't rise to the bait. "Quite frankly, I'm insulted," he retorted in a bored voice, as if he was only humoring Ryou by saying it, "Now sit." He shoved Ryou onto the bed and began to apply the color to his face.

"Malik, I want to be useful," Yuugi said, walking over to his two friends, "What can I do?"

"You could go get the boutonniere out of the mini-fridge," Malik suggested, but he shook his head a second later, "No, never mind. Not until we get him in the tuxedo. Well, no, get the flowers, Yuugi, then you can get the tux ready."

As Yuugi scrambled to do what Malik said, Ryou looked up at his friend with a calculating stare. "Okay, now you can give it to me straight. How bad do I look?"

"Really, Ryou," Malik replied, replacing his blushes and pulling out an eyelash curler and mascara, "You really don't look bad at all. You just need a little polishing so that you don't look washed out in the pictures."

"If you say so," he conceded, admitting to himself that Malik probably would make him look amazing for his wedding without actually trying.

"I'm back!" Yuugi called, setting the flowers down next to the tuxedo. "Hey, I can do mascara, so why don't you get started on his hair?"

In another twenty minutes, Ryou couldn't believe how much better he looked. The make-up had given his face a sort of natural glow that didn't make him look any more feminine than he already did, and his previously unruly hair was pin straight and fell just to his shoulders. Malik had pinned his bangs back with bobby pins so that the white locks wouldn't shift too much. And, though he still looked unnaturally white with his hair, skin, and tuxedo combined, there was a crimson cummerbund and bowtie hidden in the bundle that gave his ensemble a burst of rich color. He gave his reflection a flirtatious glance. He thought he looked pretty good.

Apparently, so did Malik and Yuugi, if the tears were anything to go by.

"Oh, Ry," Malik practically cooed, "You look stunning." He looked as if he wanted to give him a big hug but didn't want to risk messing up his carefully put together creation.

"Absolutely amazing," Yuugi agreed, eyes sparkling with moisture.

"Ahh, you guys." Ryou rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully. "You're supposed to cry at the ceremony, not before."

"I can't help it." Yuugi took him by the hand. "I'm just so grateful that we're here and this is happening, Ryou. You deserve all the happiness in the world after what you went through. I mean, could you have even imagined at the beginning of our freshmen year that we would go through so much and yet still be here right now, happier than we've ever been in our lives?" he asked.

Ryou smiled and mentally cursed Yuugi as he felt his eyes begin to water. "Not at all. If anyone had told me I'd be marrying hotshot Bakura Necrophades at the beginning of freshmen year, I'd have told them to stop drinking laundry detergent," he told them with a laugh, "And yet, here I am."

"Stop it, guys" Malik said in what was meant to be a reprimanding tone, "I worked forever on both of your faces. Don't cry all of my hard work off."

"Oh, Malik, do you remember our first football game," Ryou continued nostalgically, "When Marik swung you across the fence after he scored the winning touchdown and frenched you in front of the entire student body?"

"Of course I do," Malik replied with a grin, salty tears running down his cheeks, "But do you remember how ridiculous Yuugi's outfit was that night?"

"I liked that outfit!" Yuugi exclaimed, trying to sound indignant but failing as he let out a peal of laughter.

"Yeah, okay, Bondage Queen," was Malik's reply.

"Yami apparently liked it, if Yuugi's text messages to us that following morning were anything to go by," Ryou added with a devilish grin.

"We need to go to more of those next year," Yuugi declared, "Can you believe we'll be juniors next year?"

"Upperclassmen," Ryou added with a smile, "Is it stupid that I'm really excited to mess with the freshmen?"

Malik frowned. "Um, guys? I've actually got something to tell you." He took a deep breath as Ryou and Yuugi waited, smiles fading from their faces. "I'm moving to America with Marik next year."

The silence was thick and heavy. Then, "No you aren't."

Yuugi and Malik looked to Ryou in surprise. "What?" Malik asked in astonishment.

"You aren't leaving us again," Ryou insisted with a determined smile, "We're finally all together again, and I'm not letting you go. If Marik doesn't like it, well, I'll just have to have a talk with him, won't I?"

Malik's smile matched Ryou's. "Well, if you really feel that way, Bakura."

They all dissolved into helpless laughter that ended with Malik having to touch up everyone's make-up.

"Should I go get Ryou's dad?" Yuugi asked Malik once they were all presentable again.

"Hang on, Yuugi," Malik said, digging around in his pockets for something. He produced from it a light blue handkerchief and handed it to his friend. "There."

"Oh!" Yuugi exclaimed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of what looked like colored string. "I nearly forgot."

Ryou took the items with a puzzled look. "I'm sorry. What's all this?"

Malik poked his chest. "Silly Ryou, haven't you ever heard of having something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue on your wedding day?"

"The handkerchief is the blue, and that bracelet I gave you is a bracelet I made as a little kid! That makes it something old and something borrowed," Yuugi explained.

"Right," Malik continued for him, "And I bought that at a store around a week ago, so that makes it new."

"Thanks, guys," Ryou said, putting the kerchief in his pocket and tying the bracelet around his wrist, "I'm gonna need all the luck I can get today."

After Malik and Yuugi had left Ryou with their good luck wishes as they went to go join the rest of the wedding party, Ryou's father showed up in the room.

"Ready to go, Ryou?" he asked, offering his arm to his son.

Ryou slipped his arm through his father's and let him lead him through the house and out into the yard. Not too far away, right at the edge of the water, was the wedding party. Ryou thought he could see Bakura, but the sun was shining too brightly to tell. He squinted as his eyes gradually adjusted to the light.

"How are you feeling?" Mr. Bakura asked, looking down at his son with both affection and concern in his eyes.

Ryou returned his gaze, mentally weighing whether he should be truthful or not. Truth won because he didn't want to shock his dad in the event that he would collapse before he even made it to the beach. "This morning was terrible, but I've improved since then."

"If you need me to do anything, just say the word," his dad offered, "I could get you a chair or some water or something."

"I'll be fine," Ryou assured him with a smile.

"I just can't believe you're getting married, Ryou," he said, shaking his head with a smile, "My Ryou is marrying the heir to the Necrophades estate."

"Dad," Ryou said warningly.

"Oh, I'm not trying to talk down on him or anything like that, Son," he assured Ryou, "I'm just so surprised that it's happening so soon. Still, when you're in love…" He trailed off, looking towards the ocean. They were already halfway there. "Ryou, you know how much your mother and I love you, right? Granted, we weren't as open-minded as we should have been these past few years, but I plan on making up for it in the years to come." He cleared his throat, and Ryou thought he saw unshed tears in his father's eyes. "I couldn't be prouder of you, Son. You're the best child a parent could ask for, and I love you exactly the way you are."

Ryou nodded and bit his lip, willing the tears in his eyes to go away. Really, how many times was he going to cry today? More times than he had in his entire life, no doubt. "I love you, too, Dad. You and Mom are really great parents."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Ryou really had grown to love his parents, and he was glad they shared a close relationship. Family was a real comfort to him when he was sick in the hospital, and he would be eternally grateful for their mental support. Now, though, as he and his father walked past the first row of people on the beach, he was also grateful for his father's physical support.

"Easy, Ryou," his father whispered to him as they walked, "Keep a stiff upper lip. You don't need to worry about anyone but the man waiting up front for you."

Ryou looked ahead and locked eyes with his husband-to-be. His mind screamed Bakura's name and his heart began to pound heavily. He was sure everyone would hear it. Why was it so damn loud? His vision swam. He heard his father whisper "easy" to him again, and he attempted to control his panic. Bakura was staring at him with nothing but love in his dark, expressive eyes, and Ryou was sure that his own eyes looked the same way.

He finally got his breathing under control as his father left him standing next to Bakura and went to join his wife and Bakura's parents off to the side. Bakura offered him a smile that he gratefully returned, and they held hands as the ceremony began. He wanted to glance over to the crowd to see where his friends were, but he was held captive by Bakura's stare. The only words he heard the official say were "We are gathered here today". It was amazing how he and Bakura could almost hold an entire conversation just by reading each other's expressions. They were both only half listening to the proceedings; The other half of their focus was solely on the other. Ryou blushed heavily at the look of passion and devotion Bakura was giving him. This truly was the happiest day of his life.

Then, he felt as if he was growing heavier, and the edges of his vision blurred. He looked pleadingly at Bakura, who discreetly slid his hands to Ryou's elbows to offer him more support. His knees felt weak, but he shut his eyes and commanded his body to cooperate with him for a few more minutes. They had planned a short ceremony, after all, so it would be over soon. He looked up into Bakura's eyes, mere inches from his own, and saw himself reflected in them.

"Do you, Bakura Necrophades, take Ryou Bakura to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the official asked.

"I, Bakura Necrophades, take you, Ryou Bakura, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I promise to always cherish you, protect you, provide for you, and love you and only you for as long as I live," Bakura vowed, voice taking on a heavy tone that tugged at Ryou's heartstrings. "I will remain devoted to you forever, and nothing will ever come between us. On my life I swear it to you, my life partner."

"And do you, Ryou Bakura, take Bakura Necrophades to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I, Ryou Bakura, take you, Bakura Necrophades, to be my lawfully wedded husband," Ryou began in a quiet voice, gradually building up his volume to a normal tone when he was sure he wouldn't break out into sobs, "I promise to always care for you, support you, and love you with all of my heart for the rest of my life." He took a breath and continued, "I will laugh with you and cry with you, share with you the good times as well as the bad, and give you my heart forever."

A few sniffles were heard from the crowd as they finished their vows. Ryou heard the official continuing to talk, but before he could register what had been said, he felt Bakura's lips on his own and his mind shut down. The kiss was soft and full of unspoken promises. Ryou molded his body to Bakura's, letting himself abandon the formality of the ceremony for a few seconds as the reality of what had just happened hit him.

They broke apart and turned to face the crowd, hand in hand with matching smiles on their faces.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mr. Bakura Necrophades!" the official called over the cheering of the crowd.


A little while later, Bakura and Ryou sat at a lavishly decorated, round table in the dining room while the catering service they had hired went about setting up a buffet table laden with all sorts of dishes. Yami, Yuugi, Marik, Malik, Anzu, Miho, Honda, Otogi, and Jounouchi were also sitting at the table with them. Ryou was smiling brightly as all of his friends gave him their congratulations. He was so happy that everyone he loved was finally all together in one place to celebrate. His friends also had decided to fill him in on everything that had happened while he had been away from school.

Otogi had just finished telling him about how totally unfair it was that their school's principal had banned midriff tops when the caterers announced that the buffet was open. Immediately, Jounouchi and Honda raced for the line, making everyone at the table laugh at their antics. "I'd better go catch Honda," Otogi said, excusing himself from the table, "He might take all of the food!"

Anzu and Miho went next. "You did tell them to provide salad, right, Ryou?" Anzu asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and glancing around suspiciously, "Miho is watching her weight again, you know."

"Come on, Zuzu!" Miho protested, grabbing her friend's hand and hauling her away, "Why do you have to lie to our friends? No one cares that you're on a diet."

"They haven't changed a bit," Ryou remarked. Everyone nodded their agreement.

After Yuugi, Malik, Yami, and Marik left, Bakura turned to Ryou. "Can you stand up alright? You had me worried during the ceremony," he said, brushing the pad of his thumb across Ryou's knuckles gently, "You didn't tell me you weren't feeling well."

"I didn't want to ruin our wedding, Bakura," Ryou replied. "Besides, I'm perfectly alright! It was just that one dizzy spell," he lied, brushing off his new husband's comment. To prove his point, he stood up from his seat quickly. "Let's go get food before it's all gone."

They walked up to the buffet line together, but Bakura remained a step behind him the whole way, almost as if he was waiting for Ryou to fall over. Granted, he had good reason to be concerned, but that didn't mean Ryou couldn't be in a snit about it. The teen walked confidently over to the line and grabbed a plate, ignoring the fuzziness at the edges of his vision. Why did his body have to be out of whack today of all days?

Bakura put a hand on his shoulder, and Ryou looked up at him. "Go back to the table right now," Bakura commanded. When Ryou merely scowled darkly at him, he tried a more reasonable tone. "Let me take care of this."

"I told you, I'm fine," Ryou insisted, expression determined. He whipped his head back around and stumbled forward. Like a flash, Bakura's arm shot out and wrapped around Ryou's middle, keeping him from falling. He gave his husband a sheepish look. "Maybe I will sit down for a little bit."

After pecking Bakura on the lips, he left the line and went back to his seat. It just wasn't fair that all of his friends got to enjoy the reception more than he did himself. He mentally berated himself as soon as that thought flashed through his mind; he was enjoying himself plenty. He had just gotten married to a devilishly handsome, rich, athletic guy who was adamant about seeing his every whim catered to, and all of his closest friends as well as his family were there to see it happen. On top of that, he was perfectly healthy, never mind the odd dizziness or weakness every now and again. What he lacked in physical strength, he made up for in personality.

Before his thoughts could turn too narcissistic, Malik returned to the table, a playful smile on his face. "Already have him whipped, Ryou?"


"And now, will the grooms please come forward and share their first dance," the D.J. announced, and everyone in the room applauded.

A slow, delicate piano solo began to play, and Ryou's face lit up as he recognized Malik's playing; he always loved how his friend played the piano. The song didn't sound familiar, so he guessed it was another one of Malik's original compositions.

Bakura took his hand and led him to the center of the dance floor. They shared a gentle kiss before melting into each other and swaying to the achingly beautiful melody. Ryou rested his head on Bakura's chest, not caring how odd their height difference looked; his head nearly made it to his partner's shoulder. Bakura kissed the top of his head and murmured, "I love you".

"I love you, too," Ryou replied and straightened up. He could hear the telltale sounds of Malik beginning to speed up the song. Bakura quirked an eyebrow at Ryou, who nodded his head definitively.

They began twirling around the room as Malik picked up his tempo. Now it sounded light and airy, and the couple matched it with their steps. Bakura had one hand in Ryou's and his other arm was locked firmly around his waist. The shapes of the people watching around them became brightly colored blurs as they spun, and Ryou couldn't help but laugh. He was having the time of his life. Really, he hadn't known how much fun being married could be.

The song began to slow again, and other couples joined them in dancing, wanting to share in the moment. To his left, Ryou could see Yami leading a wary and most likely unwilling Yuugi out onto the floor. To his right, and he had to laugh a little at this, Honda was trying to persuade Otogi to dance with him. Everyone knew Honda had two left feet. After a few seconds, Otogi conceded, but not after he gave Honda the fastest, deepest kiss Ryou had ever seen.

He could also see Anzu and Miho being led out onto the floor by some well-bred associates of his new in-laws. They were much older gentlemen, but Anzu and Miho didn't seem to mind. In fact, that might have been their plan all along.

Malik's song picked up again, this time a heavier melody that sounded almost like pop, and all of the couples were whirling around this time. Bakura picked Ryou up by his waist and lifted him up, spinning him in a circle a few times before putting him back down. Ryou was breathless with joy. He grabbed hold of Bakura's collar and pulled him down, kissing him soundly right there on the dance floor in front of everyone. When they parted, Ryou was giggling. "You're doing it again, Bakura," he scolded his husband happily.

"Doing what?" Bakura asked in mock-innocence, as if to say "I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about, oh crazy husband of mine!", taking hold of one of Ryou's hands to spin him around in place.

They melted together again, only this time Ryou wound his arms behind Bakura's neck and stood up on his tip toes on Bakura's feet so they were face to face, noses touching. "Making me fall in love with you all over again, of course."

Bakura kissed him hotly, sliding their tongues together sloppily and causing Ryou to gasp and pull away. "Bakura!" he exclaimed, looking around frantically in case anyone was watching.

"No one was looking," Bakura assured him cheekily, spinning him around again even though Ryou was still standing on him.

Ryou's head began to pound a steady beat, making him subconsciously clutch at Bakura's shoulders. He tried to shake it off, forcing an even smile as they danced slowly along with the ever-changing tempo of the song, but it attacked him relentlessly. As the song ended, Bakura lowered his body in a dip that left the tips of his hair brushing the floor. Everyone cheered for them, and Ryou's head exploded with pain. He was pulled back up by Bakura, who swung him up into his arms and carried him off the floor and over to their table.

With Bakura's help, Ryou lowered himself into his chair with a sigh. "My God," he swore, massaging his temples gingerly, "Where did that come from?"

"You're fragile," Bakura stated carefully yet matter-of-factly, "You've had a long day. Honestly, I'm surprised you lasted this long."

"I need aspirin," Ryou moaned, holding his head in his hands, "Please, Bakura."

Bakura was back before Ryou even knew that he had left with a white pill in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Ryou accepted them gratefully and washed the medicine down, leaning back in his chair and putting a hand over his eyes. "That was some dance," he remarked, needing to take his mind off of the pain, "I didn't know you could dance. I didn't even know I could dance!"

"I didn't know I could, either," Bakura replied, "It guess it just felt natural, spinning you around like that."

"I bet everyone was jealous of me with my new husband," Ryou remarked, putting his hand down and looking at Bakura curiously. "That's strange to say. Bakura Necrophades, my new husband."

"Doesn't it seem like just yesterday that we were just meeting each other?" Bakura asked, taking Ryou's hand and using his thumb to rub circles into his palm, "Remember our first date?"

"Are we counting the party as the first date or the restaurant you took me to?" Ryou asked, remembering both with a grimace. He hadn't exactly had much fun at either one.

"The party, definitely," Bakura said, "Hell, who would have thought that Anzu, the girl me, Yami, and Marik tried our hardest to avoid for three years, would end up coming to our wedding." He shook his head, a wry smile on his face.

"You know what I just thought of?" Ryou asked, eyebrows furrowing, "What are we going to do now?"

Bakura raised both of his eyebrows in question. "Huh?"

"I mean, what are we going to do now?" Ryou repeated more forcefully, "With us being married but going to school in two different countries. Because I'm sure not leaving Yuugi and Malik now after we're finally all together again."

"Oh," Bakura said, silenced for a moment. His thoughts were almost visible on his face. He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, as if the answers were written up somewhere on the light fixtures. "Well," he tried, but he never got to finish as another thought popped into his head. He shook his hair, actually brushed neatly for once, out of his face. "I guess we'll figure that out when the time comes. Why the hell are you even thinking about school? It's summer, baby. I'm getting dessert while you wait for that aspirin to kick in."

Ryou shook his head in a combination of amusement and amazement as he watched Bakura head for the dessert table. Ditched on his wedding for dessert, and fed a blatant cover-up as an answer to a hard question at that. Along the way, Marik and Yami gravitated towards him, and the three exchanged punches to the shoulder and slaps on the back. Marik even head-butted him. Ryou could have groaned, but instead he smiled. He married Bakura Necrophades: a vulgar, rude, half-spoiled jock. But he loved that vulgar, rude, half-spoiled jock with every fiber of his being.


Yuugi watched Bakura whirl Ryou around on the dance floor with tears sparkling in his eyes. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Ryou Bakura. Or, he supposed with a smile, Ryou Necrophades. The couple molded to each other's bodies as the song slowed down. Yuugi sighed and was about to dramatically put a hand to his heart when he felt himself being tugged forward.

"Yami, no," Yuugi protested, pulling back. There was no way his fiancé was getting him to dance, even though it was to the song Malik had written especially for the three of them. They had talked about the wedding at length a few weeks ago, and Malik had revealed that he was writing a song for Ryou and Bakura's first dance at the reception. Yuugi could do many things well, but dancing wasn't one of them. The idea of stepping forward onto the dance floor in front of everyone was just plain nerve-wracking. The fact that he would be dancing with the love of his life did nothing to console him. Truth be told, he had never slow danced before, but it just seemed like something so personal to do in front of strangers.

"Please, Yuugi? For me?" Yami pleaded, staring at him forlornly.

That look always got Yami whatever he wanted out of Yuugi, and this was no exception. Yuugi gulped nervously as he was led by the hand out into the open. When Yami put his hands on Yuugi's hips, Yuugi immediately slid his hands slowly up his boyfriend's chest to his shoulders, causing him to shiver. Their chests pressed together, and though the top of Yuugi's head barely came to Yami's collar, they fit together in an undeniably perfect way.

Yuugi was glad to see that other couples were following their lead and joining the dance. By the way Otogi had just plunged his tongue into Honda's mouth and dragged him onto the floor, Yuugi guessed that they were well on their way to becoming a couple. He stifled a laugh when he saw Anzu and Miho wrapped up in the arms of two much older men. They would. They so would.

"See?" Yami said soothingly, using his hands to coax Yuugi's hips into swaying with the music, "This isn't so bad, right?"

"I guess not," Yuugi half-lied, still feeling very self conscious out on the floor but also enjoying dancing to Malik's song. He hid his face in the lapel of Yami's coat.

"You're making too big of a deal out of this, love," Yami chided softly, raising one of his hands to lift up Yuugi's chin, "I hear the music picking up, so follow my lead. Take my hand."

Yuugi did as he was told, and suddenly they were flying. Yami spun him around as fast as their feet would carry them, but it was quite possible that Bakura and Ryou were going faster. At least, they seemed to be. Yuugi really couldn't tell. It was all he could do to keep up with Yami, who looked as if he couldn't be enjoying himself more. Yuugi squeaked as he was suddenly picked up off of the floor. Yami held him up and spun around in place a few times, laughing deeply. Yuugi laughed along, and as he was put back down so that they could keep twirling, he felt like maybe this wasn't so bad, after all.

Yuugi could feel the music slowing down again, and so did Yami, who pulled their bodies flush together. Their arms wrapped around each other and they kissed for all they were worth. They pulled back when they heard people begin to applaud, embarrassed momentarily before they realized the crowd was clapping for Bakura, who was holding Ryou in a very elegant dip. They looked stunning, but Yuugi sensed something was off. He realized with a sharp intake of breath that Ryou was hurt when Bakura carried him off the floor with a worried look on his face.

"Will they be alright?" Yuugi asked in concern, moving in sync with Yami as the next song started up: a classical song playing softly over the sound system.

"Might be a good idea to leave them alone for a minute," Yami suggested thoughtfully, pulling Yuugi close to him as they danced, "I'm sure Bakura can handle it for the moment. Besides, they're in love, aren't they? For all we know, they could be having a moment over there or something."

Yuugi mulled this over. It was altogether possible that Ryou didn't need his two best friends to take care of him anymore. Bakura had just promised in his vows to protect and care for Ryou, and no one, least of all Yuugi, had a doubt in their minds that he wouldn't. "Guess so," he conceded finally.

"Ah, you'll have to forgive me, Yuugi, but I want to have a moment, too," Yami said sort of shyly.

"You do?" Yuugi asked.

"Yeah. I mean, why not? I've been meaning to talk to you, anyway," Yami began, "About us."

"Go on."

"You're not mad, are you?" he asked suddenly, worry creasing his brow.

Yuugi looked at him as if he'd just sprouted a third arm. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because I want to wait until you turn eighteen to marry you," Yami continued, still looking worried, "You know I'm only doing it for you right? Because I realize that you-,"

"Shh," Yuugi shushed, cutting him off, "I told you before, and I'll tell you again. I'm totally fine with waiting to get married. It's not a big deal. I'm not insecure enough to think I need a ring to keep you in your place."

Yami looked stunned for a moment. Yuugi stared back into his eyes confidently, proving with his body language that he really meant what he had just said. It was about time he started showing some backbone, anyway.

"Yuugi, I love you," Yami declared, twirling him around briefly in spite of that fact that the song they were dancing to was slow, "It's amazing how I fall more in love with you every single day."

"Oh, Yami, I love you, too," Yuugi replied, practically simpering with how over-enthusiastic his tone was. He moved in for another kiss just as the song ended, and Yami left his side without another word, leaving Yuugi stunned on the dance floor. He felt irritated and offended for a few seconds before he realized that Yami was jogging over to Bakura, who was headed to the dessert table. Then he just felt abandoned and pissed. His brows knit together as he pushed through the crowd to go find Ryou. Revenge was definitely in order here.


Malik tapped the D.J. on the shoulder, noticing but not caring how very sexy he looked in a suit. Marik looked better, anyway. The D.J. turned to him, microphone in hand, and quirked an eyebrow. "Announce the first dance. I'm playing it on the piano over there," he stated, indicating the baby grand piano set up next to the dance floor.

"Can do," the D.J. replied, giving him a two fingered salute.

Malik walked over to the piano and sat down on the bench, testing a few of the keys idly. The piano was in excellent condition, but not as well maintained as the one he had at home. Still, it would sound very beautiful, of that he had no doubts.

"And now, will the grooms please come forward and share their first dance," the D.J. finally announced, and Malik waited until the clapping died down before he began to play.

He had written this song especially for Ryou, Yuugi, and himself. It was a romantic piece written mainly in the higher octaves of the piano to give it a cheerful sound. He had thought briefly on giving it some darker sections to represent the trials they had all overcome in the past few years, but no one wants to be depressed at a wedding. He glanced over at the dance floor, but he couldn't see who was dancing because of the crowd gathered around it. Oh, well. He busied himself with letting his fingers do a dance of their own. Ever so slowly, he brought the tempo down before building it back up. Now, he was gathering speed and intensity, playing powerful chords in his left hand and letting his right hand pick out the melody with precision and grace. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the crowd had shifted enough to let him see Bakura and Ryou whirling around and laughing together. He smiled, turning his eyes back to the keys as he felt a few tears roll down his cheeks.

He was glad that everyone was having a good time, but he all of a sudden found himself wishing that he could dance with Marik to their song. There wasn't any time to book a sound studio and have the song professionally recorded onto a disc, and Malik had thought that live music would be more special anyway. He cut off the fast section a little abruptly, spiraling down into the slower section again. He hadn't actually meant to do it, but his emotions were influencing his playing. He allowed himself a brief moment to throw in some more melancholy chords before returning to his light, airy melody. If only he had written this song sooner, then maybe they would have gotten to record it.

He was about to cast another longing look at the dance floor when he felt a strong arm on his waist. A glance using his peripheral vision told him that Marik had just sat down next to him. "Hi," he greeted briefly with a small smile.

Instead of a reply, Malik received a hot, open mouthed kiss on his collarbone, right at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. He gasped quietly, and the pace of his song sped up slightly. Marik continued to press sinful kisses on his neck and even pulled at the collar of his shirt in order to gain access to more of the teen's tanned skin.

"Oh, hell," Malik breathed, finding it harder and harder to focus on his playing. He let the tempo speed up to as fast as he could possibly play it, giving it one last burst of energy before finishing with a last rendition of the original melody, the slowest and most beautiful version of it yet. Marik straightened up and let him finish playing the song.

As soon as the crowd began to cheer for the couples that had danced, Marik's mouth was on Malik's, and no one noticed as they stumbled outside and back onto the beach. Marik lowered Malik slowly down to the sand and slid his hands up under his dress shirt, making the teen squirm. "Marik," he gasped, his moan of surprise giving in to a groan of pure lust as Marik's hips bore down on his own.

"You looked like you needed me," Marik stated simply, biting down harshly on the soft skin just under Malik's collarbone and making him cry out, "And, in case it wasn't obvious, I need you, too."

The rough treatment was sending him over the edge and fast. Marik covered his mouth as he quickly undid the button on Malik's dress pants, pulled them down, and took his entire length into his mouth at once. Malik couldn't help it; he screamed. Marik's hand muffled the sound as well as his frantic gasps and pleas for more. He bucked his hips before he could hold himself back, but Marik didn't seem to mind. Nor did he seem to mind it when Malik tangled his fingers in his hair a pulled hard as he hit his climax.

Marik rolled onto the sand next to him and simply watched him as he tried to gather the energy to move. God, but that was fantastic. Everything about Marik was fantastic, really, not just his skill in bed. Or, Malik added mentally, on the beach. He opened his mouth to speak, taking a few seconds to gulp in the salty air. "Marik," he said simply.

"Malik," Marik replied smoothly as if he hadn't just ravaged the blond next to him so completely.

"We should get married, too," Malik said suddenly before he could stop himself. He rolled onto his side, looking into Marik's eyes with hope and fear.

Marik looked surprised, but not in a bad way. "You want to?"

Malik matched his expression. "You thought I didn't?"

"It never came up."

"Yes it did. On the plane."

"I didn't know you wanted to get married."

"I agreed to come live with you, didn't I?"

"Those are two separate things altogether."

"Not really."

"Yeah really."

"So you do want to get married, don't you?"

"I didn't say that. I just don't see how a piece of paper and a couple of rings say that we love each other."

They both fell silent. Malik looked crestfallen while Marik looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry. We can get married if you want to."

"You have to want it, too, jackass."

"Malik, wait!"

As Malik was attempting to storm off in a huff, as was his custom whenever they fought, he was roughly tackled back down to the sand. When Marik's body slammed into his back, all the wind rushed out of his lungs. He struggled for air, starting to panic when he couldn't draw breath. Marik, having officially lost his mind, began shaking him by the shoulders. "Malik, fuck, I'm so sorry! Baby, of course I want to marry you!"

Air surged into his lungs, and he gasped as he finally was able to breathe again. He crawled into Marik's lap and rested his head on his boyfriend's large shoulder. "I'm all of a sudden very glad that I don't play football."

"It was instinctive. Shit. I'm so, so sorry, Malik," Marik apologized sincerely, wrapping his arms around the teen, "I was being stupid. Of course I want to marry you."

"I just want to be with you forever, and I know that can happen without getting married, but what about when your career takes off?" Malik asked worriedly, biting on his fingernail for a few seconds before realizing just what he was doing to his manicure. "People are going to want you; cheerleaders, actresses, singers, and everyone else with access to you is going to try to make you theirs. Nobody would mess with you if you had a ring."

Marik kissed the top of Malik's forehead. "I wouldn't pay attention to them anyway. But don't worry, I'm going to propose to you; I'll make it all right. Just not right now. I really want cake."

And without another loving word or caress, Marik dumped Malik onto the soft sand, got up, and went inside.

Malik huffed indignantly, jumping up and chasing after him. "I wasn't finished with you!" he mentally yelled. As soon as he walked inside, he saw Marik rushing to catch up to Bakura and Yami, who were headed for the dessert table. Really. Leaving him for fancy cake. He shook his head, wondering how he would ever last forever with that inconsiderate, pigheaded man that just so happened to be the love of his life.


"Gentlemen," Bakura announced grandly to his two friends, "Feast your eyes upon the greatest cake known to mankind."

Yami and Marik both had to say they agreed; it was a pretty impressive cake. It was impossibly tall; six tiers high, to be exact, and covered in creamy white frosting. Marzipan rosettes decorated the walls of the cake as well as icing piping that circled the cake in a looping pattern, and on the top of it all stood two mini figurines of Bakura and Ryou. "Real butter cream icing, half chocolate half vanilla, and those little rose things are straight from Germany," Bakura said proudly.

Yami could feel his mouth begin to water. He had seen Yuugi in the kitchen a few times baking this cake for the wedding, but he had always been shooed out before he could get a good look at it. "God damn," he murmured, staring up at it with reverence.

Marik thought he was going to cum in his pants. He'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life. "Holy fucking shit," he swore happily, reaching out to scoop off some icing.

Yami's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. "Don't touch it, dumbass."

"Awwwh, why not?" Marik whined, struggling fruitlessly to get his hand out of Yami's grasp. Bitch had a grip like a panther.

"Because it's a wedding cake. Ryou and Bakura have to cut it together," Yami stated as if he was talking to a five year old.

"But why?" Marik complained as if he was a five year old.

"I think that's going to be a problem," Bakura said with dread in his tone, pointing at something behind them.

The other two turned around to see what he was talking about. There stood Ryou, Yuugi, and Malik, wearing matching smirks and looking vengeful.

"Thought you could just ditch us for cake, huh?" Malik asked.

"You can't have any of that without me, dear," Ryou said sweetly.

"Oh, Yami, you should know better than to leave someone alone on the dance floor," Yuugi chastised.

They all put their hands on their hips. Yami, Bakura, and Marik blanched.

Yes, sir, it was going to be a long, long forever.


A/N:

How 'bout the epilogue being my longest chapter yet? Weighing in at 17 pages tall and roughly 8,000 words heavy, this would be the behemoth chapter. And I just couldn't resist reviving the one-liner humor that SFLE was loaded down with.

I'm going to miss you all so much! I can't believe this is the end. I honestly can't. It's going to hit me later, and I'm going to cry like a little bitch. But until then, my dearest readers, I'll leave you this message: I will never, ever forget all the valuable lessons writing SFLE/SFLS has taught me, so long as you remember that this couldn't have been made possible without your contribution. Be you a reviewer or just a reader that always comes back but never steps out of the shadows, never forget that I love you from the bottom of my heart and will always appreciate the gift you've given me: your attention. For the last time… THANK YOU, SEXY READERS!

Yours Forever,

-Classy Venus