Bakura heard the pounding on his window, but he tried to ignore it. He'd spent another sleepless night in front of the old PlayStation Ryou had given him, and the couch he currently lay curled on was just comfortable enough for him to not want to move- despite the sore neck and pain in his lower spine. A little discomfort was never worth opening his eyes for, and today was no exception to the rule.

But the knocking didn't stop. It never stopped. Kek would pound on the glass until Bakura got up, so Bakura rolled onto the floor, stumbled to the living room window, and shoved his middle finger against the glass. He could hear Kek's laughter, muffled through the pane, although his vision was still blurry and he couldn't really see anything yet.

"Wake up asshole! Do something with your life!"

Bakura just thumped his bird finger against the glass again. Kek laughed as he walked away with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. Once the bothersome pounding stopped, Bakura swayed back to his sofa and crashed against the cushions. He'd just managed to doze when his phone started beeping at him. Bakura rubbed grit out of his eyes, glaring at the phone with all the hate his 3,000 year old soul could muster. It was Ryou.

Let's meet at Kek's tonight. I'll make pad thai and we can game.

Bakura swyped a quick confirmation and then dropped the phone onto the carpet, not caring where it landed as he curled back into a semi-comfortable ball.

He'd found himself back in Domino City just under two years ago and he never figured out how he came back, or why, or why it was in a body that looked a lot like Ryou's (but not quite) or why Marik's other half was with him. They joked that the gods had cleaned out the basement and threw out the trash. Really it was as good of an explanation as any.

His life was okay. Ryou had gotten him a job at Kaiba Corp as a game beta. He got to play video games on his computer and get paid for it without ever subjecting himself to the atrocity which was the sun. He supposed he also had somewhat of a social life, at least more than he had in Egypt. He gamed often enough with Ryou, often at Kek's apartment. He hadn't been thrilled when his former host had named and then started dating his former nemesis; however, there was nothing Bakura could do about it. Over time it'd just become a part of life. Every morning, on his way to teach yoga of all the fucking things in the world, Kek pounded on the window to wake up Bakura (he always crashed on the couch- his bed was useless).

At least Kek was tolerable, more so than Marik. Bakura couldn't say three words to Marik without it exploding into an argument. He wondered why Marik bothered visiting his other half, and therefore was always in Bakura's hair. It's not like Marik had had anything but hate for his alter ego before, unlike Bakura whose relationship with Ryou had always been more complicated.

Just thinking about Marik made Bakura's heart pound, furious with their past arguments. They replayed in his head and Bakura knew he wasn't going back to sleep, so he showered and dressed in something nice- he refused to let that smug asshole tease him for being a sloppy dresser. His hair was always a lost cause, so he combed it wet and then teased it out with a hair dryer and gave up on it otherwise. He applied kohl to his eyes. It was a habit from Egypt that he'd picked back up when he returned to his own body. He also tweezed his eyebrows, a modern grooming habit he'd gotten into.

Still groggy, he went to the kitchen, fixing steak and eggs for breakfast. Pad Thai, stupid vegetarian food. That's how he knew Ryou had already invited Marik over to game with them, the meatless dish gave Ryou's plans away. Bakura devoured a pot of coffee with his breakfast, and then spent the rest of the afternoon betaing an MMORPG until Ryou was texting him to come over.

Ryou opened the door and whistled. "You look hot today, Bakura."

"Shut the fuck up, Ryou," Bakura grumbled, looking away.

"Can't take a compliment, can you?" Ryou giggled and led Bakura into the apartment.

They all sat in the kitchen with large plates of food. He noticed Marik was dressed well, trying to outdo everyone like the show-off he was. The white silk top he chose was a delicious contrast to his caramel complexion. Gold flashed from his throat and wrists, matching his perfect hair. Marik's gaze flicked in Bakura's direction for a instant, and then jerked away, as if Bakura wasn't worth his time.

Bakura glared at Marik. "What's he doing here?"

"Fuck you, Bakura, I can hang out here whenever I want."

"Four people make a better game," Ryou said, sitting down and digging into his plate with chopsticks.

Bakura snorted, taking the only seat left which was- to his dismay- next to Marik and across from Ryou and Kek. "I'm surprised his royal highness would even waste his time with us lowly nerds."

"There was nothing good on TV tonight." Marik flashed him a sweet, aggravating smile.

"Don't you have other people to harass?"

"I prefer to inconvenience you."

"I'm flattered, and all this time I thought I was beneath your notice."

"Oh, I notice cockroaches when they scurry past."

Kek interrupted them. "You know, if you two would just kiss, it'd clear up the sexual tension and then maybe we could have an actual conversation at dinner for once."

"Fuck you," Bakura snapped.

Marik looked away with a perturbed expression. "I think you're confusing sexual tension with loathing."

"I don't know…" Ryou smiled. "I think he's onto something."

"Fuck you, too." Bakura gnashed his teeth together.

"You'll never know unless you try it." Ryou winked at Bakura, ignoring Bakura's scowl.

"I'd rather kiss a scorpion." Marik picked at his food, but didn't eat any. "Less chance of getting stung."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bakura turned his head so he could stare at Marik.

"It means you're an aggressive little pest."

"Ki-i-i-isss," Kek sang, drawing out the word to some tune Bakura didn't recognize.

"Shut up!" He and Marik screamed in union.

The sound of their voices together made them jerk towards each other, and Bakura couldn't handle even looking at him. He threw his chopsticks onto the center for the table and sprang to his feet.

"Bakura? What are you doing?" Ryou asked.

"I've lost my appetite."

"Yeah, run away like a coward, Bakura." Marik clenched his jaw, angry at something, but Bakura knew it was Marik's nature to always be angry.

"I'm not running away. It's simply that I can't stomach being around you and food at the same time."

"Mmmm, scathing. My delicate feelings are shattered by your opinion."

Bakura didn't respond. He stormed away and dropped in a heap onto the couch, heart rioting. He was trying to get it under control when he caught Marik out of his peripheral vision.

"Can't you take the hint, Ishtar?"

"Look, I wasn't trying to ruin your supper. Come back before Ryou gives me a lecture."

"I'm not going to do you any favors."

"Oh seriously, don't leave me alone with those two. They'll try to coerce me into confessing my repressed love for you."

Bakura couldn't help but chuckle at the statement. "They are going a little overboard with that joke, aren't they?"

"Only completely."

Bakura stood up, taking a few steps towards the kitchen and, coincidentally, Marik. "I guess since they've been dating for a year they think we'd also make a good couple."

Marik stared at the carpet. "As if I'd ever be interested in you."

Bakura clenched his fist, stopping in his tracks which was several centimeters away from Marik. "Yes, sorry that I'm such a repulsive option for someone as impressive as the mighty and glorious Marik Ishtar."

"Oh please, don't act butthurt about it. It's not like you'd go out with me even if I did ask, right?"

Marik looked up from the floor then and Bakura couldn't breathe or swallow. They leaned a little closer together, and for a crazy second, Bakura thought they were going to kiss. He even felt himself tilt his head up and lower his lids as if to prepare for the moment. His perception of reality spun into dream nonsense that he couldn't control. He parted his lips, wanting to tell Marik that of course he wouldn't date him, but he had no voice for it. He held his breath, forfeited another centimeter of space, and waited. A breathless chuckle escaped Marik's mouth and brushed against Bakura's lips.

"I mean … right?"

And then Bakura snapped back into himself. Marik wasn't going to do anything, he was fishing for another argument.

"Don't even waste my time asking," Bakura denied the misery he heard in his own tone as he stormed back into the kitchen and crammed large bites of food into his mouth to keep himself from saying anything further.

Marik was also a little morose and quiet. Bakura assumed it was wounded vanity since Bakura didn't grovel at his feet like all the other assholes he saw trying to flirt with Marik whenever Ryou dragged them to some event or another. The rest of their dinner was Ryou and Kek trying to make awkward conversation.

The game improved the mood. Marik was rather adept at role playing, probably because he was used to pretending to be someone else. Their characters got along better than they ever could. Bakura played a bard with a drinking problem, and Marik was a mage with a gambling problem. Suffice to say that tavern visits were always adventures that had Ryou groaning as the DM.

Bakura was currently using his performance perk to propose to Marik and pressure the Innkeep to offer a round on the house. They both had outstanding bills and needed a distraction to sneak away, and since they both had dual-classed as thieves, Bakura stole a bottle of wine while Marik filled his pockets with coins before they left. They were both laughing at how easily their scheme had gone- Bakura hadn't even fudged a roll- not that he could with Ryou supervising.

"See? You two work well together." Ryou winked.

"Don't start that again." Marik shot Ryou a dark look, traces of his old self creeping into his expression.

"Yeah, you should propose for real, Bakura." Kek grinned.

"I liked you better when you tried to murder everyone." Marik frowned.

Bakura stared at an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Look at the time. It's fuck-this-shit o'clock. Guess that means I should head home."

Marik stood up, hands on the hips of his tight leather pants. "For once I think I agree with Bakura."

"Don't be like that!" Ryou called, but they ignored him, fed up with the jabs at their expense.

Since they left at the same time, they reached the front door at the same time. Both refused to let the other go first, so they ended up crashing together as they squeezed past the doorway.

"Dammit, Bakura, why are you so stubborn?"

"Me? You could have waited!"

"Yes, ladies first I suppose."

"Go fuck yourself, Marik!"

"Wouldn't want to make you jealous." He winked.

Bakura felt his face heat up and it pissed him off so he marched home. He realized Marik followed him, so he spun on his heel to face him.

"What?"

"Um…" Marik looked sheepish. "I actually left my bike in your spot because I knew you didn't have a car and I wanted the covered parking."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "You would."

Still, he slowed down his pace back home so Marik could walk beside him instead of behind him.

"Well, there was only a slight chance of rain today, but I didn't want to risk it. I got the bike detailed this morning."

"Really? I want to see."

Bakura didn't really care. He wasn't sure why the fuck he just said he wanted to look at Marik's bike.

"Yeah? Okay. Walk me to the parking lot," Marik said.

Bakura caught a side glance. At the mention of his bike Marik's face always brightened. He never could hide the excitement he felt about motorcycles, small traces always broke through his expression, like sunbeams through storm clouds.

"What?" Marik asked when he realized Bakura was looking at him.

Bakura shook his head side to side, as if to deny he was even staring. Marik forgot about it though when they reached the dark violet bike, his face lighting up even more.

"Isn't she beautiful? I had them put on an extra coat of wax to make her really shine."

"I guess it would be a shame if it got spotted with rain," Bakura confessed.

Marik slung his leg over the bike in order to straddle the seat, and Bakura was not staring at the way Marik looked, or how the pants hugged every curve.

Marik grinned, kicking up the stand and straightening the bike. "Want to go around the block real quick?"

Bakura scratched his arm. "I should probably go home … work and stuff."

"Don't tell me you're afraid."

"I used to ride horses all the time. That's just a stupid metal horse."

Marik put on his helmet. "I'll prove you wrong if you're brave enough to hop on."

"I am not afraid." Bakura jumped on the seat behind Marik, wrapping his arms tight around Marik's waist.

Marik started giggling. Not only was it odd because Bakura was used to snickering instead of giggling, but the way Marik's warm body trembled in Bakura's arms made him feel lightheaded and queasy.

"What?" Bakura frowned.

Marik took a moment to catch his breath. Each inhale pressed their bodies closer together. "I can tell you've never been a passenger on a bike before. I guess I'm just used to Rishid riding with me."

"So what?"

"Get your feet on the pegs," Marik instructed.

Bakura obeyed, seeing no reason to argue the point.

"Okay, good. Keep them there, even if I stop at a light, and don't try to oversteer, and uh…" Marik hesitated a moment, but then he took Bakura's hands in his own and guided Bakura's hold to his hips instead of fully around him.

The sensation of their hands together moving against Marik's body sent an unfamiliar jolt into Bakura's lower belly. He'd never felt anything quite like it before, and he almost jumped off of the bike, but he forced himself to stay put so Marik didn't call him a coward.

"I didn't know," Bakura grumbled at the relocation of his hands.

"It's fine. I mean, no big deal. I didn't mind or anything. I just wanted to show you the right way."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Here, let's just go." Marik avoided further conversation by starting the bike.

She roared like a vengeful beast, and Bakura wondered what sort of ka Marik possessed. He would bet a Pharaoh's fortune that it was something fierce, and fast, and powerful, just like the bikes he rode. They reversed and kept it slow through the parking lot. As soon as they hit the streets, Bakura found that he did want to oversteer out of instinct. He tried to keep his movements fluid like Marik, letting Marik do the driving while Bakura sat behind him and enjoyed the ride. His hair was a disaster in his face and the air was cold as it stung his eyes, but it was more thrilling than anything else had been since he'd came back to life. He'd always loved riding horses and this was similar enough for him to enjoy it.

Too soon they pulled back into the parking lot. Bakura sighed, hesitant to end the moment.

"So?" Marik twisted to face Bakura, lavender eyes bright with adrenaline. Their mouths were far too close again.

Bakura swiped his tangled hair out of his face. He wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted to wink and say thanks for the hard, fast ride. For anyone else the lame-ass joke would have rolled right off his tongue. But instead he got off the bike and headed home.

"Told you I wasn't afraid."

"But did you like it?" Marik called after him.

Did he like sitting close, holding on, feeling Marik shift, feeling to world rush by like nothing? Fucking gods, the last thing he wanted to say to all that was yes.

"Yeah … I see the appeal, I guess."

And then he was out of hearing distance, although he could have sworn he heard Marik shouting goodnight at him.

"It's not our fault they're stupid," Kek argued as he and Ryou walked to Bakura's apartment with bags of fast food in their hands.

"We did tease them pretty badly last night."

"Because they're idiots. They seriously need to just fuck and get it over with. I'm tired of them arguing out their sexual frustration during our gaming nights."

"Do you really think sleeping together would get those two to stop arguing?"

"Of course not, but it would tone them down a bit."

Ryou laughed. "Yeah, probably, and they're so cute when they steal little glances at each other when they think no one's looking."

A reluctant grin stretched across Kek's face. "It reminds me of how I used to yell at you at first because I didn't know how to deal with my feelings."

"I think it's exactly like that with them. We probably aren't helping by calling them out. That's why I want to apologize."

Kek kissed the tip of Ryou's nose. "You're too nice to people. Try being mean once in awhile."

Ryou smiled. "I'll be sure to be mean to you, then."

"I'd probably laugh my ass off."

They reached the door and knocked for a full minute before an irate, sleep-tousled Bakura answered the door.

"What? Why can't you fuckers ever let me sleep?"

"Bakura, it's two in the afternoon," Ryou said.

"So?"

"So we brought lunch." Ryou held up a bag spotted with burger grease.

Bakura licked his lips at the sight and stepped to the side to let them into the apartment.

"Is that bag an apology?"

"Yup."

Bakura snorted, snatching the bag out of Ryou's hands. "Maybe I'll forgive you in three thousand years or so."

"Um, excuse me, there's extra bacon on that cheese burger."

Bakura grinned and plopped on the couch as he dug into the wrapping. "Okay, a mere thousand years. I'm feeling generous today."

"That's more like it." Ryou sat down on the couch with his own bag.

Kek sat on the floor. He always avoided furniture when he could, preferring to coil like a beast near Ryou's feet. He had chicken strips and extra fries. For all of Kek's blood lust, he always avoided red meat, which was probably a hang up from Marik's vegetarianism.

Bakura scarfed the burger down with the gusto of a competitive eater. The bacon was crisp and smothered in melted cheese, and Bakura couldn't help but be very happy in that moment.

"Good?" Ryou laughed between his own bites.

Bakura grunted, tossing his fries towards Ryou. He was good with the double bacon cheese burger. Ryou and Kek had no problem making the extra fries disappear. Afterward, Bakura curled up in his favorite sleeping position in a satisfied food coma.

"Don't you dare sleep when you have guests over!" Ryou lectured.

"You mean pests?"

"Let's play Mortal Kombat," Kek suggested.

"Every fucking time, Kek. I have other games."

"I like the blood, and the fatalities."

Bakura rolled his eyes but put the game in his PlayStation. They both sat in front of the TV for the better part of an hour until Bakura tossed the control pad onto the floor.

"Where the hell are you going?" Kek asked as Bakura stood.

"To take a leak. Do I have your permission?"

"I guess. I don't want you pissing yourself next time I kick your ass." Kek waved Bakura away.

"Please. I ripped out your spine last match."

He disappeared down the hallway before Kek could respond.

Kek glanced over his shoulder. "Wanna play?"

Ryou was flipping through his phone. He smiled.

"I would, but I'm really comfy right now."

"Yeah? Maybe I should climb up there and make sure you're warm enough?"

Ryou pretended to think about it. "I think I might be a bit too cold."

Kek started crawling towards Ryou, but a beep distracted him. It was Bakura's cellphone. After another beep Kek picked it up.

"Don't read his texts," Ryou scolded.

"But it's from Marik." Kek grinned before reading out loud. "If you ever want another spin around the block on my bike just let me know. You're not so bad when you can't talk- then there's a winky emoji."

"Finally. God, if they'd just go out a few times I know they'd get along." Ryou shook his head.

Kek gave an evil cackle. "Let's hook them up."

"We've been trying."

Kek waved the phone at Ryou. "I'll just pretend I'm Bakura and try to set up a real date."

Ryou sat upright. "He'll kick our asses."

Kek grinned so widely that his tongue lolled to the side. "Totally worth it."

He started typing. It didn't take long for the phone to beep. He typed back. Kek went back and forth for another minute before Ryou finally dropped his own phone and leaned closer.

"Well? What are you saying to each other?"

"I asked if he wanted to go tonight. He thought I was joking. I told him I was bored. He asked what time. I said seven and told him I'd be waiting with a devil emoji."

"That doesn't sound anything like Bakura."

"Who cares? Marik said he'd see him at seven!" Kek set the phone back down in triumph.

"Why is Marik seeing me at seven?" Bakura asked, wiping wet hands against his jeans.

"For your date." Kek said.

"My what?"

"You're going for another bike ride."

"I'm what!" Bakura lunged for the phone, scrolling down his convo. "You fucking dickwaffle, why'd you make it sound like I wanted to see Marik?"

"Why'd you go riding with him last night?"

"It was around the block! That was no big deal!"

Ryou shook his head. "But clearly Marik is thinking about it, right? Or he wouldn't have texted you. Or winked at you?"

"Emojis don't count," Bakura snapped, but his cheeks were pink. "Get the fuck out of my apartment. You're going to need more than bacon to apologize for this one!"

Ryou laughed. "Next time I'll make you steak- you can eat it and tell us how your date went."

"It's not a date! And I'm not going! I hate Marik and I hate both of you! Get out!"

Bakura combed through his spikes with his fingertips for the twelfth time. He'd brushed his teeth twice, changed three times, and paced the living room for fifteen minutes. It's not that he wanted to go. It's that if he called it off, then Marik would call him a chicken and never let him hear the end of it. Even if he told Marik it'd been Kek texting- Marik wouldn't believe him. The whole situation was stupid, and Bakura figured he'd just go on the lame ass bike ride and get it over with.

He looked at his phone, ten till seven. He glanced in the mirror. He'd braided his hair to keep it from getting in his face, but the horns and several wisps still stuck out. He had gloves and his trench coat on as well. It wouldn't help much if the bike crashed, but he supposed it'd be better than bare arms.

Bakura flinched when he heard a knock at the door. His stomach dropped, and he considered pretending he wasn't home. Another knock had him flinging the door open because his nerves couldn't handle the noise. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Marik. He had his leather pants on again, and his own jacket, and the kohl around his eyes was extra thick.

Bakura's mouth dropped open as he forgot whatever snarky greeting he'd rehearsed a hundred times before Marik had knocked.

"Oh." Marik's eyes lingered on Bakura. "You dressed for a ride. Good. Here." He shoved a black helmet against Bakura's chest. "I had this made for you."

"Aren't these expensive?"

"Cheaper than the emergency room." Marik shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Just see if it fits."

Bakura put it on, not sure exactly how it was supposed to fit, but after a quick inspection, Marik gave a satisfied nod. Bakura took the helmet back off, if felt ridiculous wearing it in the doorway.

"Anywhere in particular?" Marik asked.

"Far away from this trash heap of a city." Bakura heard himself answering before he'd thought about it.

Marik grinned. "I like how you think."

"Careful, that didn't even sound like an insult."

"It's still early. I'm sure you'll do something to piss me off before we get to the parking lot."

"Probably." Bakura snorted, grabbing a backpack he had sitting on the couch and then stepping out of the apartment to follow Marik to said parking lot.

Marik helped him adjust his helmet and then put on his own. He straddled the bike first and kicked up the stand, and Bakura slipped behind him, making sure he put his hands on Marik's waist instead of around him.

"You remembered."

"Hoping I'd forgotten?" Bakura smirked, slipping his hold to the front of Marik's stomach. He leaned in as much as he could with them both wearing helmets. "Did you like this the first time?"

"You're a fool."

"And apparently you're a cuddler."

"As if. Put your hands where they belong before I cut them off."

"Then I'd have to hold onto you with my bloody, mangled stumps."

Marik groaned in disgust. "You hang out with Ryou way too much."

It was a good time to mention that he'd hung out with Ryou that afternoon, and that Ryou and Kek had commandeered his phone while he was in the bathroom so they could play matchmakers. In the end, Bakura didn't bother. Ridiculous as it was, they were hanging out together now, and Bakura really did like the idea of getting away from city lights and traffic for a few hours. He returned his hands to their proper place, and rested his feet on the pegs he'd used last time.

"I won't hear you if something happens, so if you need my attention, squeeze my shoulder, okay?"

"Like this?" Bakura demonstrated.

"Yeah, that's good. Ready?"

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

The ride was hypnotic, a long series of winding curves. Bakura let his mind wander as they left the city lights behind and traveled down darker roads. He was surprised Marik tolerated the inky sky and shadowed trees around them, but he supposed the headlight and moon were enough. They started to climb into mountainous forest, and the world hugged close to them as the road narrowed and the trees stretched taller. Bakura yawned to pop his ears, resisting the urge to lean against Marik's shoulders and nap the rest of the way. He couldn't with their helmets on anyway.

Marik pulled over, parking his bike beside a thick-trunked maple. Bakura stood and stretched, taking off his helmet and shaking out his bangs.

"We'll have to walk. The bike would spill on the trail."

"Walk where?"

"I'll show you."

Marik used what must have been the strongest flashlight the hardware store had to offer. Bakura followed. He found the darkness comforting and the thickness of the woods fascinating. He'd lived in the desert, and despite spending years in Ryou's body, he'd never had much time to enjoy the scenery while ensnared in Zorc's influence and obsessed with vengeance.

Now he had time to look, and think. It was strange, and calming, and a little overwhelming.

"You're quiet," Marik said.

"Listening for wolves." Bakura smirked.

"I come here all the time. There aren't any wolves."

"What do you do up here?"

As he asked the question the forest gave way to a broad cliff. Before them stretched the sky, bejeweled in stars, crowned with the moon, and Bakura couldn't deny the beauty surrounding him.

"I just look," Marik answered Bakura's question.

"It's not too dark?"

Marik gave him a bitter laugh. "This isn't dark. You know how dark the tombs were. There are millions of lights out here."

Bakura only answered with a nod while staring at the sky. They walked to the edge, and Bakura spread out his long trench coat for them to sit on. They sat together, far more quiet than they usually were around each other, but it was actually nice. No words meant no arguing. After a while, Bakura grabbed his backpack.

"Hungry?"

Marik gave him a questioning look.

Bakura pulled out two store bought bentos from his bag, offering one to Marik. "This was the only vegetarian one they sold, so don't bitch if you don't like it, and it's not my fault if it doesn't taste as good as the shrimp tempura ones."

"Did you just turn this into a picnic?"

"No!" Bakura shouted louder than needed. "I haven't eaten since this afternoon."

"Moonlit picnic, I didn't take you for such a romantic."

"Fuck you! I could do better than packaged store bento if I was trying to be romantic!" Bakura threw Marik's bento at his chest.

Marik caught it, laughing. "I'd like to see that."

"See what?"

"You actually trying to be romantic. It'd probably be hilarious to watch."

Bakura tore into his packaging to avoid tearing into Marik's face. "I'm never forgiving Ryou or Kek for this."

"What do you mean?" Marik opened his improv dinner as well.

"I was in the bathroom when you texted me."

"... I thought you agreed awfully fast. Especially after I baited you with the not so bad when you can't talk line."

"Yeah, you know I would have bitched at you for that."

A strained, uncomfortable silence replaced the earlier calm as they ate and tossed the packages back into Bakura's backpack. Bakura felt disheartened in a way he never had when losing games against the Pharaoh.

"Want me to take you home?"

Bakura stared at the grass and stones beneath them. "Already sick of me?"

"I didn't want to force you to come if it was just a prank."

"It was more of a set-up than a prank."

The wind picked up, making Bakura's braid sway like kitestring. He wrapped his arms around his chest.

"Cold?"

"A little," Bakura lied.

It was more a thoughtful reflex. It was more an instinctive gesture of self-comfort because he hated the thought of going home, but couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. His eyes widened when he felt Marik wrap his own jacket around Bakura's shoulders. He looked at Marik with an unspoken question in his eyes.

Marik shrugged, his hands still on each side of the jacket's lapel. "Sorry I dragged you out here."

"It was my idea to ditch Domino."

"I should have just taken the loop and gone back to your place." Marik sighed. He looked as defeated as Bakura felt. "I don't know why I pulled over. I like it here. I thought you might too. It was stupid. This whole idea was stupid. I guess all their teasing was starting to sink into my head, and then we went on that short ride, and it was actually fun, so I thought-"

Bakura tried to listen to Marik's ramble, but he found himself leaning closer and half-lidding his eyes instead. He was used to Marik's smell, but wrapped up in Marik's jacket as he was, he was buried in the scent, and Bakura couldn't concentrate on Marik's words, just the way his mouth moved.

"Bakura?"

"I do like it here," Bakura whispered, dizzy with Marik's scent.

It was like chai and leather and was wholly masculine and made Bakura want to moan in a fit of ecstasy, and he couldn't bother playing it tough just then. He wanted to see if Marik tasted as good as he smelled.

"Bakura," Marik repeated the name, leaning in as well, and Bakura was glad he'd stolen the name because it sounded good against Marik's lips.

Bakura wasn't used to closing his eyes, not around other people. He'd never trusted anyone enough, but his eyes closed then, and he held his breath, hoping Marik would get the hint- that he'd understand what it meant, that Bakura was keeping his eyes closed for him.

The kiss was so anticipated, that when it came, Bakura moaned against Marik's soft, thick lips. Marik grabbed Bakura's head and guided him down to the ground, turning the single kiss into a continuous volley that left Bakura breathless and boneless as he lay against an entire mountain with endless sky above them.

Marik did taste as good as he smelled.

Bakura held onto Marik's hips again. Lighter than when he rode with him. His thumbs slipped beneath Marik's shirt, brushing against the smooth, warm skin.

"Never tell them that they were right," Marik growled into Bakura's ear before nibbling against the side of his neck.

Bakura arched, and moaned, and slid his hands up to Marik's chest so he could pinch at his nipples and urge him to bite harder into Bakura's throat.

"Fuck no. We'd never hear the end of it."

"Exactly."

Marik fumbled at Bakura's fly, eager to tug off his pants. Their lips met once again and their conversation died as they struggled out of their clothes and pressed their bodies together beneath stars and moonlight.

The next day Kek went to pound at Bakura's window like he did every morning, but stopped when he realized Bakura wasn't sleeping on the sofa like he usually did. Kek scowled at the window, a trace of concern creeping up in the back of his mind as he wondered what had happened. He moved over to the other window, noticing the blinds were pulled down instead of up. He used his hand to shield away the glare of the glass as he squinted best he could through the slits in the blinds. Kek smiled. He noticed two lumps hidden beneath the comforter in a bed that Bakura had never used before. A slender, copper arm jutted out from the covers with a distinct gold bangle around the wrist.

Kek walked away, deciding it wouldn't hurt to let Bakura sleep in just this once.