Hello!

Uh. This is the first Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction I've written in 6 years. I'm trying to get a feel for the characters again before moving on to writing bigger and better stories (with more of a point).

It feels pretentious to preface my own story, but I'll do it anyway, to cover my bases. XD;

- I'm from New Zealand, hence my use of UK English spelling (e.g. duellist vs. duelist).

- I've gotten back into YGO through rereading the manga in Japanese. Thus, all the characterisations and speech patterns I use are based on that. I am re-watching the anime too though, and manga-verse and anime-verse are similar enough to get confused, so forgive me if I do.

He and the ring spirit were similar in a lot of ways, Malik thought idly, staring out the window of the blimp with a vacant, guileless smile pasted to his face.

Between subtly teasing Jounouchi and chattering animatedly with Yugi and the others about the view from here in the sky, the ring spirit put on the perfect facade of a cheerful, somewhat air-headed teen. It was much the same as the image Malik was trying to project; to them, he was harmless Namu, an amateur duellist with little confidence in his abilities, winning his way into the finals through sheer luck. The two of them were predators mimicking their prey, wolves prowling amongst the sheep, camouflaged but ready to bite.

Of course, these particular sheep weren't stupid, and Malik knew it – he'd seen the suspicion Jounouchi had been regarding him with; it was much like the way Yugi kept looking at Bakura, as though he could feel something was off about him, without being able to be one hundred percent sure he was correct. Not that it mattered, of course; neither of them could prove anything. And even if they could, there was nothing it would achieve. Short of tossing the millennium ring from the blimp – and even then, Malik had a feeling it wouldn't be gone for long – there wasn't anything that could be done about Bakura. And as for him...

Well. Malik had broken enough Battle City rules to be disqualified multiple times, but this was Kaiba's tournament. He'd already seen that Kaiba would bend the regulations to suit his interests as he saw fit – and as far as his own interests went, they most certainly didn't involve throwing out the duellist with the winged god-dragon Ra in his deck. Kaiba probably touched himself at night thinking about that card, Malik thought to himself, suppressing a derisive chuckle. Jounouchi could announce that Malik had murdered someone – which he certainly planned to do, but that would wait until the tournament was over – and it wouldn't make the blindest bit of difference to his place in the finals.

Still, god cards and murder aside, Malik let himself take a little time out to enjoy the view with the others. Unlike Bakura, who he was largely sure was feigning his interest, Malik's appreciation was real. For someone who had lived below ground for the entirety of his early life, it was the kind of scenery he wouldn't even have been able to dream up back then. Jaded as he was, he couldn't help enjoying the sight of the thousands of glittering lights below them. It was quite breathtaking. He rarely had a moment to appreciate luxuries such as beauty, but now that his plan was in action, all he had left to do was wait.

Once he'd drank his fill of the sights and had begun to grow restless, he spoke up again. "Well, I think I might retire to my cabin. I already feel like I'm out of my league, so I'd best be in top shape when the finals start."

He smiled apologetically as he said it, as though he actually was sorry to be leaving the group when, really, he couldn't wait to be alone. It was much easier to be away from Yugi, away from the urge to goad the Pharaoh out and twist his neck, or sink the point of the millennium rod between his eyes. That was to come later, once he'd made him suffer as much as possible, and he didn't want to act rashly.

The rooms were, as expected of accommodation provided by Kaiba Corp, on par with that of any five star hotel, but Malik was hardly the kind of person to get excited about mini-bars or fluffy pillows. That was a job for Yugi's ridiculous friends. He was content to stretch out on the bed, arms folded and brow furrowed. It made him wary, being this close to the Pharaoh, and he had to force himself to stay put and relax, to stop from pacing about his room and wearing holes in the plush carpet. Perhaps if he slept a while it would calm him.

Malik shut his eyes, sinking back into the pillows and shifting to find a more comfortable position. Of course, the moment he did, the atmosphere in the room seemed to change and he opened his eyes again, only just managing to suppress a shout of surprise when he found Bakura sitting in the chair across from him.

"You could've knocked," he said brusquely. "It's only polite."

Bakura smiled sweetly, and if he hadn't known better, Malik would've thought it to be genuine.

"I'm sorry. I just thought I should come and thank you properly for saving me, since I hadn't had the chance yet."

The corner of Malik's mouth quirked up.

"No one will hear us in here. What do you really want?"

Bakura's smile turned dark, and his eyes took on a cruel glint. The changes were so subtle, but they were somehow enough to make him seem like an entirely different person.

"Why do you assume I want something, partner?" The last word was laden with sarcasm and an undercurrent of frustration, but Malik ignored it. They both knew they were using each other and so, in a way, it really was like a sort of partnership. For someone like the ring spirit, who obviously preferred to work alone, it had to be excruciating to go at someone else's pace.

"Forgive me for not thinking of you as the sort to waste your words. Perhaps I was mistaken. Did you come for a bit of idle chit-chat?"

Bakura grinned, teeth flashing in the light. They looked strangely sharp.

"Maybe I did."

Malik regarded him coolly. Despite their exchange, he knew perfectly well that Bakura wasn't here for pointless conversation. However, in the brief period they'd known one another, Malik had realised quickly that the ring spirit enjoyed being difficult and toying with people's minds. It didn't matter to him though; he had until the finals began to play Bakura's stupid games.

As predicted, when Malik fell silent and just waited for him to get to the point, Bakura quickly grew bored of messing with him.

"Wouldn't it be ironic if you and I ended up facing each other in the first matches of the finals?"

Malik tensed up. He hadn't actually considered the possibility of that until now, and part of him knew what was coming next.

"I don't plan to lose whether I'm facing Yugi or you, but on the off chance you win, I hope you can read hieratic text. Ra won't be much use to you without it."

The edges of Bakura's mouth curved up sharply and he chuckled in a low, dark tone. "I have no interest in your god card. I came to make a deal with you."

Malik sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and folding his arms, subconsciously closing his body off into a defensive position.

"We've already made a deal," he reminded Bakura. "I've promised that if you help me kill Yugi, then once this is all over, I'll give you the millennium rod."

"And if I beat you in the finals before that time comes, I propose you give it to me in place of Ra, whether you achieve your goals or not."

Malik had been expecting it since Bakura had first brought the topic up, but the suggestion still made him grit his teeth.

"If I lose to you, then I'm out of the tournament and I'll need it more than ever. And even if I agreed to your conditions, what could you possibly offer me if I beat you? I don't need your cards. It seems like a very one-sided deal."

Bakura chuckled, and in a flash he was in front of Malik, gripping his chin between a finger and thumb.

"I have plenty of things I can offer you."

Malik couldn't help but swallow, and an involuntary tremor ran through his body. He hoped Bakura didn't mistake it for fear, because it wasn't; he wasn't at all frightened, but he couldn't deny the strange electric tingle that had run through him the moment Bakura's fingers touched his skin.

"Name one," Malik said, forcing his voice to stay even.

The eerie thing about Bakura was that he didn't seem to blink. He had such a hard, intense stare that it made you feel as though he knew something you didn't. It was even more unnerving up this close. If Malik had been anyone else, having those eyes locked on his would've probably frightened him.

"Isn't my cooperation enough for you?"

Malik would never know what possessed him to tangle a hand in the thick, purple locks of Bakura's hair and pull his head down until their lips met. Maybe it was the close proximity, Bakura's warm breath on his face, his firm grip on Malik's jaw. Maybe it was because, underneath it all, he was a curious teenager, desperate to experiment, and Bakura was enticingly beautiful. Maybe it was the sense of power and control, of confidence that Bakura kept about him at all times, and Malik was terribly attracted to all three of those things. It could've been all of that. But whatever it was, Malik found himself crushing his lips against Bakura's, noting how soft they felt despite the ferocity behind the kiss.

He was pleased to find that Bakura actually looked surprised when he drew back, but the smugness quickly disappeared when he realised that the ring spirit was probably about ten seconds way from attempting to murder him. Or at least, Malik assumed he was until Bakura started to chuckle quietly.

"Well, if that's the prize you want, then you can have it. It's no concern to me if you want my host's body."

Malik's face flushed and his features folded into a frown. "Hardly. What kind of prize would that be?"

Bakura's smirk was suddenly back, eyes narrow and sly.

"Are you asking for a demonstration?"

There was no mistaking the implication behind the words, and Malik's throat went dry. He felt a bit of self loathing for wanting to try and bait Bakura into doing just that, and as much as common sense screamed at him not to give in to his impulses, he brushed it away. He'd spent too much of his life doing what other people wanted or expected him to do. That's why he'd come to Domino in the first place; to live for himself.

"Why would I want you?"

He wondered if it was obvious to Bakura that he was goading him. He probably could tell; Bakura was perceptive as it was, and you needed to be a good strategist to get as far as the finals in a Duel Monsters tournament. It was likely he knew exactly what Malik was doing. But whether he did or not, it didn't matter in the end, because Bakura's ego forced him to take the bait anyway.

"I'm sorry, was I only imagining the part where you grabbed my head and tried to suck my face off?" He lifted Malik's chin with a finger, still smirking. Malik stared back, expression defiant. "I could have you on your back, begging me not to stop in a matter of minutes if I cared to."

"Ha. I'd like to see you try." Malik matched Bakura's smirk with one of his own, but inside his heartbeat had quickened in anticipation.

Bakura regarded him with a long, searching look, before leaning in to whisper right in his ear.

"Then I will."

His lips brushed the rim, causing a shiver to shoot down Malik's spine like a bolt of lightning. Bakura chuckled.

"Too easy," he muttered, tongue poking out to trace the shell of Malik's ear. "And here I was thinking you'd be a challenge."

Malik bit back any complaints before they could leave his mouth, but that may have been less for the sake of politeness and more because Bakura had just taken his earlobe between his lips. Besides, it was true; he was a virgin, with both men and women, never having had the chance to do anything much of a sexual nature before this. Everything about another person's touch was new and thrilling for him. Of course he was going to be responsive.

"You've got a long way to go before this would be worth even considering giving up the millennium rod for," he said instead, though the breathy tone of his voice and the gasp that followed didn't do much to back up his words.

"Ch'," Bakura spat. "Cocky brat. You make me want to fuck you just to shut you up."

Malik ignored the insult in favour of the response it caused in him. The thought of Bakura's naked body pressed to his, lips and hands on his skin, caused a stirring in his pants, and he suddenly wanted to speed the whole process up.

"Then maybe you should stop wasting time."

Bakura's dark chuckle right in his ear sent another tremor through him, and then he was suddenly on his back on the bed, Bakura towering over him.

"Don't be so cocky." Bakura grabbed him by the wrists, fingers wrapping around his gold bracelets, and he pinned Malik's hands above his head as he straddled him. "You're in no position for it."

He ground against him, pelvis to pelvis, and they both hissed. Malik was surprised to find that Bakura was aroused too; he'd automatically assumed the ring spirit wouldn't derive any pleasure from the situation at all, but then again, it was a base animal instinct, and it was dubious the spirit had gotten any in the last 3,000 years. Ryou didn't seem like the type who scored often.

His touch was harsh, but somehow also strangely calculated as his hands moved nimbly over Malik's body, manipulating it until he was a trembling mess beneath Bakura's weight.

It was odd. Malik hated being at another's whim, the powerless feeling it left him with reminding him of his childhood... but this felt different. His inability to control his reactions was both unnerving and exhilarating at once, and he didn't fight it as Bakura stripped him of his shirt. He traced the contours of Malik's abdominal muscles with his finger tips, expression turning smug when Malik inhaled sharply, biting his lip too late to stop the sound from coming out.

"Not long before finals start," Bakura muttered, concentrating intently on removing Malik's belt. "We'll have to be quick. Let's how fast I can make you beg."

"Not going to happen," Malik panted as Bakura palmed him between his legs. "I'm not here to satisfy you."

"Heh. What a selfish guy." Bakura leered at him, tugging off the last of Malik's clothes and leaving him in nothing but his jewellery.

It'd been a long time since he'd felt this exposed, and despite his cold words and his flippant attitude, it made him a little nervous. Bakura's intent gaze only intensified the feeling and when he smirked, looking pleased, Malik was horrified to find his face flushing hot.

"What are you so happy about?" He spat, trying to cover his embarrassment with a harsh tone.

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "I was just thinking that you look like you'll be fun to play with."

Malik flushed all the way down to his chest, forcing himself to try and stay composed.

"Enjoy it while you can," he said coolly. "I'd usually be far out of your league. Tonight's circumstances are special."

The smirk dropped off Bakura's face, replaced by a scowl.

"Arrogant brat. We'll see exactly who's out of whose league."

He didn't bother to give any warning before he flipped Malik over. He landed on his stomach, legs hanging off the mattress and face buried in the bed clothes. Bakura was kneeling beside him and Malik didn't need to be a genius to know what he was staring at.

"So this is the next key to unlocking my plans..." Bakura murmured to himself. "I guess you do have more uses than I thought."

Malik opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a rush of air when long, delicate fingers suddenly began tracing along the scars, gentler and more exploratory than the carresses from earlier. His breaths became heavier, more uneven, and he sunk his fingers into the bed clothes, gripping tightly as though holding on for his life.

"Once everything is over, this will be mine too," Bakura all but purred, touch like electricity, leaving Malik's body tingling in its wake.

"No way..." was all Malik managed to utter before lips replaced fingers, drawing a soft moan from his mouth.

Bakura laughed against the back of his neck, vibrations sending shivers through him.

"Looks like I win, Malik."

Arguing, he realised, was largely pointless, especially with his body working against him, and so he allowed himself to succumb to the sensations, coming apart beneath Bakura's mouth and hands. He'd win out against him in the end. It was alright to give in for now.

The way he felt when it was all over was completely foreign to him. His limbs were heavy and limp and his body, sprawled naked atop the bed sheets, was relaxed despite his still-rapid pulse.

He watched Bakura pull his clothes back on, hiding the millennium ring under his shirt and running a hand through his hair, looking like nothing had happened at all.

"There's your demonstration," Bakura told him, an arrogant smirk on his face that Malik was too drowsy to try and wipe off. "If you want the full experience, I'm sure we can make some sort of deal."

And with that, he headed for the door without so much as a goodbye. Malik watched him go, biting his lip to keep silent. It bothered him a bit that his body wanted him to tell Bakura to stay. Maybe it was just an after effect of their activities, but he had the strangest craving to curl up in bed with Bakura and bury his face in his neck, maybe fall asleep together.

It'd never happen, of course; he knew that much. Not when both of them were the way they were. And besides, he doubted these feelings would last the hour.

Malik stared up at the ceiling, contemplative, knowing he should have a shower and get dressed before the time came to assemble with the other finalists. He'd forget about what had happened here tonight and carry on as planned. He imagined Bakura would do the same. They were, after all, so very similar in so many ways.

There was a fleeting voice in the back of his head wishing this wasn't the case, but Malik crushed it like a bug.