One year later.

Bakura groaned as Marik collapsed on top of him, sweaty and satiated.

"So," Marik mumbled when his breathing had evened out, "Ryou and Kek invited us over tomorrow. Apparently it's their turn to host Game Night. I told them we'd bring the beer."

"We should get a keg given how much we went through last time."

"Yeah. Can you believe how much Yugi drank-and he wasn't even hungover the next day!"

Bakura grunted. "He's a gods' honest dwarf."

Marik laughed and nuzzled into Bakura's chest. "Think Atem will be able to convince Kaiba to come this week?"

"Who knows. So far he's avoided being totally absorbed into the Friendship Cult."

Marik tugged at a lock of hair draped over Bakura's shoulder.

"Speaking of avoiding people, Ishizu asked when we were coming over for dinner."

Bakura frowned. "Never."

"Bakura," Marik sighed, exasperated.

"Everytime we go over there she's nagging and fussing." He assumed a high pitched, proper cadence that sounded nothing like Marik's sister. "'Bakura, your hair's getting shaggy. Would you like me to cut it? Marik, I wish you wouldn't ride that thing. It's so dangerous! Marik, when are you and Bakura getting married?'"

Marik grinned, biting his lip. "That's what older siblings do."

"No, that's what mother's do," Bakura corrected.

"Well, I suppose she sort of took on that roll too," Marik said quietly, fiddling with Bakura's hair. "But it's nice, isn't it? Having people care enough to nag you?"

Bakura grunted in agreement and gave Marik's waist a brief squeeze.

"Besides, I already told her we'd be over on Sunday."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. Well, at least Rishid will be there as a buffer. He at least knows to keep his opinions to himself-a rare quality for an Ishtar."

"Like you're any better."

Bakura smirked at him, and Marik felt his heart stutter as he looked back into eyes like overcast skies and rain-drenched earth. Marik smiled and traced the scar trailing down below the gray one. If he looked long enough, he could still see the torment of three-thousand years hidden there, but it was smaller now, cast out to make room for newer, better memories. It made Marik proud that he was a part of that, that he had helped drive some of that darkness way.

"What, do I have something on my face?" Bakura chuckled at his own joke.

"As a matter of fact," Marik agreed, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss against Bakura's quirked lips. "There. I think I got it."

"Still feels like there's something there," Bakura murmured, eyes lidded.

Marik grinned and kissed him again, longer this time. "Better?"

"Almost." Bakura pulled Marik to him a third time and rolled them over.

"You realize I have to get ready for work in like an hour," Marik sighed out, hands smoothing over Bakura's latticed back as Bakura began rocking against him.

"I can do a lot in one hour."

Bakura demonstrated his point by kissing along Marik's jaw, over his shoulder, and down his pec before working Marik's nipple gently between his lips. Marik's hands gripped Bakura's biceps as he moaned, and Bakura gave the other nipple the same treatment.

"Why do you always work me up before I have to leave for work? It makes it hard to concentrate on my shift."

"Good. Maybe thinking of me jerking you off will keep you from flirting with all of the drunk girls," Bakura said as he began to do just that, his hand tugging a slow rhythm on Marik's cock.

" Mph ! You're not jealous, are you? Because the generous tips- ah, yes ! Just like that-those tips those drunk girls leave help pay for this apartment."

Bakura snorted. "Flirt with whomever you want. I don't care as long as they keep their hands off."

Marik let out a breathless chuckle. "What could they give me when you're everything I could ever want?"

Bakura paused to stare at Marik, and Marik groaned at the lost stimulation.

"You mean that?"

Marik leveled lidded eyes at him. "Of course. We literally went to hell and back together. You think I'd do that for just anyone?"

Bakura crawled further up Marik's body and stroked the hair from his face. "I…" Bakura swallowed.

Marik cupped the back of Bakura's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. "I know. Me too."

Bakura kissed him back, fervent as he began to stroke them both together. Marik called out as their cocks slid against each other and Bakura's hand.

Marik groaned against Bakura's neck as the pace increased. "Oh, gods , Bakura! Don't stop."

Bakura grunted, panting into Marik's hair as he revelled in the high only Marik could give him. Soon, too soon, he was climbing. He slowed down to drag out the moment, but Marik protested and laid his hand over Bakura's, pumping faster.

Knowing Marik was close drove Bakura over the edge. He continued to stroke Marik, a high of a different sort joined his afterglow as Marik gave a final, loud groan and shook against him.

Bakura twined their fingers together and rested his forehead against Marik's as they caught their breath.

" Merwet tew(1) ," Bakura panted. Marik's hand squeezed his, and Bakura had never felt so much in such a small gesture.

" Ahbk 'aydaan(2) , Bakura."

(1)"I love you" in Middle Egyptian.

(2)"I love you, too" in Egyptian Arabic.