Ryou was in love with Marik. He had been for a long time. The pale hikari normally didn't bother with stupid things like crushes and what not, but something about his Egyptian hikari counter-part was irresistible. It could be the confidence he was brimming with, it could be the looks, the humour, or simply the fact that when put next to each other, Ryou and Marik were complete opposites.

For example, every day, Ryou would go to work. And at five o'clock, he would return to the small apartment they shared to a Marik that was still laying on the couch from when he woke up at one in the afternoon. Ryou would want to sit down and put his feet up, but Marik was suddenly active and wanted to blow off some steam.

And that's where the problem came in. Ryou would pull off his shoes, one hand against the wall, the other behind his heel. Marik would call his name. Ryou's head would lift wearily, but before he even had a chance to respond, his back would be against the door, Marik's arms tightly around his neck. And before Ryou could even cry out from the sudden pain, his mouth was covered by Marik's. This was Ryou's own heaven. Marik's hands would travel, one pulling him closer from the back of the neck, the other traveling down his back and butt.

Then, Ryou would wake up in bed. Another memory lapse. And that meant his Yami had taken over. Ryou would push himself up from the mattress, naked under the blankets, his hips aching along-side skinned knees and legs he could hardly feel. He would watch Marik just as he was slipping from the door. This was the same thing that happened every day. And that's why Ryou knew that Marik wouldn't, couldn't, and didn't love him. Whether it was based around love or not, Marik was sleeping with Bakura. And Ryou had to accept that.

"Uh, Marik?" he blurted out-loud. A hand quickly slapped itself over his mouth. Was he really protesting? That never happened. He was expecting the blond head to pop back through the door with the same sweet smile he received when he first got home, but all he got was an annoyed, distant grunt.

"What do you want, Ryou?" he snapped from the living room. The crack of a can echoed through the hall. "What's for supper?"

Ryou threw his entire body upwards before hanging his head over his legs. Those few seconds were the only thing Ryou had with Marik... and he had to accept that. Right, supper... He pushed the blankets off and gave his burning dick a disapproving glance. "You're a slut, you know that?"

He spun off the mattress and to his feet, his head throwing around the room. He eventually located every part of his outfit, and he slipped from the door way fully clothed. He went to wipe his nose, knowing too well the scent that lingered over his fingers. Fantastic. He took a quick detour to the bathroom, slightly repulsed. He threw his hands under the running stream of water, clawing at his fingers and hands at top speed.

"Ryou," Marik called sweetly. This made Ryou's heart race a bit. He leaned forward and shut off the tap, grabbing the towel and rubbing his hands down as he practically tore through the hall to meet the voice. When he arrived, his face fell. Marik was still watching the television, his face as uninterested as ever. Damn, this kid was good at manipulating others.

"What is it, Marik?" Ryou asked kindly, mustering up a gentle smile. It was wasted, however, because Marik didn't even turn his blond head.

"Did you not hear me? What's for supper?" Ryou sighed a bit to himself, looking at his feet. He pushed his head back up and smiled bigger.

"Anything you'd like," he insisted, slipping between the couch and table and sitting down next to the Egyptian, his eyes closed in a smile. "Name it and I'll make it." He pushed his hands into his knees, his towel clenched under his fingers, and stretched his shoulders back a bit.

Marik turned slightly, his eyes glowing for only a moment before his mouth spread in embarrassment and he threw his head forward again, his eyes closed in clear avoidance of Ryou's gaze. "S-Since when is it my job to do your job?" he snapped, his mouth an obnoxious oval. Ryou sighed through his nose, his eye brows curling sadly above his tender smile. He cracked his eyes slightly. Marik's eyes were also split, giving the white-haired hikari an almost apologetic gaze. As if he was reluctant to acting like a jerk; or maybe reluctant to acting nice. Ryou could only hope it was the former.

"I'm sorry," Ryou choked, pushing to his feet. As he stepped out from the couch, he tried to shake his hips more than usual. It was rather bold for him. "How about fillet mignon?" he suggested politely, slipping behind the kitchen wall.

Marik's head lifted slightly, his ears twitching. That sounded so perfect he could hardly stand it. He pulled back, crossing his arms. "Y-Yes, okay."

Marik was in love with Ryou. He had been for a long time. It wasn't like Marik to have feelings beyond "I want to fuck you" but with Ryou, he couldn't help himself. Ryou always acted so adorable, so cute, so kind, and he found it desirable to the point he couldn't help himself. The few moments every evening that Ryou was still Ryou, he loved; to be in control, to be dominant over such innocence. He loved it more than anything.

He would have loved to sleep with Ryou just once if he could, but every time he got close to making it to bed with him, the moment he fell against the mattress, it was Bakura leaning over him. He didn't mind this so much. He did love sleeping with Bakura. But he wanted to share that with Ryou, more. He had real feelings for Ryou.

Marik let his face heat as he dropped his head against the couch behind him. He could imagine it just sitting there: Pushing Ryou's legs up, his pale ankles resting harshly on his tan shoulders, Ryou's fingers gripping desperately at the mess of sheets under him, panting and crying. Oh, shit. Marik's eye widened quickly as the throbbing started. Now what? Marik had no interested in letting Ryou walk in when he had fucking erection. He was watching the fucking Olympics. There was nothing attractive about nerds in skin-tight suits riding sleds.

He hopped to his feet and practically tripped over the table as he rushed to the bathroom, holding his hands at his crotch. Ryou's eyes widened as he watched the blur of Marik's body rush past the door way. He shook his head and went back to his frying pan, sprinkling water over it and listening to the sizzle.

Marik belly-flopped onto his bed, making sure to hold his hips back as far as he could. His face pushed its way through the pillow. He began panting into the down, his eyes tight. He couldn't take care of this now. That would be very bad. What if Ryou walked in to let him know about supper? What if he accidentally called out his name. Marik rolled onto his back and threw his body up, biting his lip with deep red cheeks.

"I'll just have to endure it."

"Marik, dinner!" Ryou called from the kitchen. He placed two plates on the table gingerly; both were sprawled with two fillets, a scoop of garlic mashed potatoes and a prong full of cheese smothered green beans. This was one of Ryou's favourite meals to make. He knew Marik liked beef, where as Bakura enjoyed garlic. And Ryou's favourite was the cheese. He wasn't sure what Malik liked to eat, but since Malik was a rare event around the house, he didn't think much of it.

Marik entered the kitchen with hidden eyes and a flush face. He didn't say a word as he flopped down in his chair. He looked up a bit at Ryou, still hiding behind his bangs. Ryou tried to choke a smile in his direction, but Marik simply threw his lip between his teeth and looked back towards the plate.

"Let it be a good meal," he muttered quietly, picking up his knife and fork. Ryou's head fell to the side slightly. He was a bit worried. He kept his eyes on the Egyptian as he lifted his own cutlery.

"Let it be a good meal..." he echoed dryly, finally turning to his plate. He ran his knife through the beans first, poking himself a stack with the prongs of his fork. Marik, however, stabbed his steak with his knife, using his fork to peal the bacon off. He shoved the full strip in his mouth, still hidden behind his bangs.

Ryou wanted to say something. He wanted to ask, he wanted to comfort him. But what could he say? What was there to do? He chewed delicately on his beans, his eyes glazing in thought. Why was he so upset? Did someone he liked in the games not win? Was he upset that Ryou was bothering him so much?

"Ryou."

The pale hikari threw his head up, his eyes wide. Marik's eyes were finally visible through the screen of blond. His lips were trembling and his eyebrows were curled as if his was in pain. Yet there was something completely different being emitted from his eyes. It looked almost like desire, but full of hesitance.

"What is it, Marik?" Ryou asked gently, his heart beginning to race. He closed his eyes and cut through his beans once more.

"I want to sleep with you."

Ryou's arms came to a slow and his normal pale cheeks began to glow a deep crimson. He tried to shake it off before he lifted his head in a smile.

"Is your bed too messy again? I can clean it after dinner."

Marik threw his head back down to his plate. His hips wriggled over the chair as the throbbing pumped through every limb. He squeezed his eyes and drew in a breath, ready to make a more specific confession, but Ryou was still speaking.

"I've told you before not to eat popcorn while you lay in there. You just get it all in your sheets."

"Ryou."

Ryou froze again, now taking his turn to cover his eyes. He brought his arms to his side before pushing up to his feet. All the frustration was bubbling up now, and he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Marik, I'm not Bakura," he started, lifting his head and letting his gaze pierce through to Marik's. "I have feelings. Ones you aren't considering!" Marik now threw himself up, too, moving out from behind the table and trying to make his way to Ryou, but the white-haired hikari easily pushed himself away.

"Ryou, what are you--"

"Shut up!" Ryou shouted, clenching his fists. "I'm so sick and tired of you leading me on every after-noon just so you can sleep with Bakura!"

"Is that what you--"

"I said shut up!" Ryou snapped again, throwing another dark glare at Marik, his eyes beginning to sting. He turned to his feet again, his shoulders bouncing in a heavy pant. He didn't say another word. The guilt automatically started to fill up his veins. The tears dripped from his eyes as his face softened. "M-Marik I'm--"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted, taking another step towards Ryou. Ryou didn't have it in him to step away, even as Marik's hands wrapped around his wrists and tugged him forward. Their noses bumped and Ryou's face heated as his tears began to slow. His eyes searched Marik's for forgiveness, but all he could see was pain.

"M-Marik?"

Marik lifted a hand and wiped the wetness from his face before cupping it and looking him straight in the eyes. Ryou drew in another breath, but before he could expel it, Marik's lips were attached to his. It was gentle, it was soft, and Ryou wouldn't have asked for anything different. Marik slowly tugged away, holding his forehead against Ryou's and closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry I've made you feel that way," he whispered gently, his arms moving around Ryou's waist. He would have like to enjoy feeling the heat Ryou was emitting, but he couldn't. The pulsing he was feeling slowed as the guilt washed through his veins. "Bakura's fun to mess around with, but, Ryou..."

"M-Marik," Ryou choked, the heat becoming unbearable. He froze as Marik's thumb ran across his lip.

"Truthfully, I really—"

"—Love you."

That's all that needed to be said before Ryou threw himself in Marik again, desperately wrapping his arms around his neck and taking a step forward. Without even realizing what he was doing, Ryou pushed him against the counter. He tugged away for a moment to look at Marik, but the Egyptian's eyes were locked on Ryou's lips. He threw his dark arms under and around Ryou, pushing him up by his shoulder blades and attaching their lips once again.

The breathing grew heavy as Ryou gripped desperately at Marik's face, their lips smashing and squishing against each other. Without warning, Marik's arms moved around to Ryou's front, pushing him forward without disconnecting, blindly shoving him through the hallway and through to Ryou and Bakura's bedroom.

Ryou's heart raced as he back smacked against the mattress. He heard Marik's shoes slam to the floor as they crawls upwards, staying connected. This was it, finally it was his turn. He could only hope that Bakura would stay out of it this time. The two fell apart as Marik stayed upwards while Ryou's head fell against the pillow.

"And you're alright with this?" Marik asked, forcing a smile through his pant. His head hung downwards as he held himself up with locked elbows. Ryou hesitantly lifted his arms upwards, tugging at Marik's chains. It was gentle at first, but he quickly wrapped his entire hand around them, pulling off the snaps and throwing the chains to the side, allowing the zipper to be exposed and Ryou's hand to tug it downwards.

"Yes," he responded, although he was sure it didn't matter now. Marik's smile grew to an eager grin as he unlocked his elbows and fell on his forearms. He took up Ryou's lips again, this time wasting no time slipping his tongue between the pale lips. Ryou wasn't hesitant with slipping his tongue out to meet Marik's, running along every side, over and under.

Ryou happily slipped his hand under Marik's vest and pushed it over his shoulders. Marik sat up on his knees, throwing his arms behind him to let the fabric fall from his wrists. He fell back down and slipped his face into the crook of Ryou's neck, running his tongue across the skin and nipping at it. He balanced up on his knees, keeping his lips attached to Ryou's pale neck as his hands ran across his chest and under his over-shirt, pushing the article up and under his shoulders.

Ryou pushed up on his forearms, letting Marik slip the shirt to his elbows. Their tongues reconnected outside their mouths and Marik clenched Ryou's shirt between his fingers, pulling him forward as close as he could. The pain was almost unbearable now; the throbbing, the stiffness, the restriction from their pants. It was too much for either of them, and they knew they couldn't last much longer.

Marik was the first one to reach his hands downwards, snaking his finger under Ryou's jeans and freeing the button, quickly moving to the zipper directly after. Ryou's chest was bouncing like mad as he reached for Marik's pants at the same time. As they opened, Ryou's heart began to slow and his cheeks heated calmly.

"Marik?" he asked softly, looking up at the Egyptian. Marik lifted his head with a timid stare.

"What's wrong?"

"Will you say it again?" Ryou asked gently, holding a fist to his mouth tenderly. Marik licked the corner of his mouth before leaning forward and slipping his hands under Ryou's shirt. He gave him a gentle, dry kiss before looking him in the eyes.

"I want to sleep with you." He pulled Ryou's shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Ryou took in deep breath and closed his eyes, kicking off his shoes with a heavy, desperate sigh.

"Dirtier," he insisted, his face now glowing. Marik gave him an odd look, but grinned regardless. His hands slipped under Ryou's waistband as he pushed the jeans downward over his legs. He attached their lips again, this time running his tongue along Ryou's bottom lip.

"I want to have sex with you," Marik continued, breaking off again. Once he tore the jeans off, he leaned upwards again for the boxers. But Ryou gripped Marik's hair tightly, holding him still. He was panting heavier now, but he lifted his head regardless. His eyes slipped open and he searched wearily for Marik's gaze.

"Dirtier."

Marik's tongue shot from his mouth and ran over his entire mouth. He grinned before leaning forward again and attaching their lips once more. This time it was rough, full of desperation as their tongues searched frantically for each other. Ryou's hands searched Marik's chest and back over and over again, but it wasn't enough. He shook like crazy as he tore his boxers from his own body before pushing Marik away in a heavy pant. With another lick of the lips, Marik finally complied.

"I'm going to fuck you."

And that's exactly what happened. Ryou's fingers gripped desperately at the sheets, his ankles resting on Marik's shoulders as his dark hands pushed up his thighs. Even once in a while, he'd take a break, leaning forward to leave a soft kiss on Ryou's forehead. The pale hikari barely knew what was happening. His eyes searched desperately for Marik above him, but all he saw was a hazy blur. Another pleasure wave would roll over him, escaping from his lungs as a desperate cry.

"D-Don't," he panted, reaching out and wrapping his fingers over Marik's under his legs. Marik froze a bit, also panting as his face fell slightly. He gave Ryou a worried look, but Ryou quickly reassured him with a gentle smile. "N-Not without me."

So their position changed. Ryou's already sore knees were once again being abused against the mattress with the forward and recoil. Saliva was falling freely from his lips as his eyelids clung tight. His throat was burning dry, and he felt his arms quake under his weight. He wasn't going to last much longer here. Both of Marik's hands worked heavily, one clinging around Ryou's hip bone, trying desperately to keep him still and close as his own hips lurched forward and back.

His other hand held tightly around Ryou's free length, pumping along with Marik's hips. He knew just from this alone that Ryou was now close. All he needed was to shift his position only the slightest bit, now slamming hard directly at Ryou's sweetest spot. Two hits was all that was all it took. The liquid dripped from Marik's fingers, and Ryou's upper body fell, his head laying over folded arms. He was still panting heavily, his face red and strained in pleasure.

"Can I let go now?" Marik asked gently, now placing both hands around Ryou's hips. The pale hikari said nothing, his panting growing heaver as he threw his head upwards and down. Marik did as he was told, seething slightly as he expelled. Once he was done, he tugged out and fell back. His head smacked against the head board right as Ryou's hips fell to the side and bounced up from the mattress.

"Are you... okay?" Ryou choked through his panting, opening an eye. Marik started to laugh at himself, lifting his clean hand and clutching at his head with it.

"Just a minor concussion. I'm okay."

Ryou let out a breathy laugh as well before closing his eyes again. He hadn't even eaten dinner yet, but he wanted to go to sleep. Marik's smile calmed watching Ryou as he drifted off. His hair was dampened with sweat, his skin glowing slightly from the setting sun beyond the window. The room fell silent as the panting slowed. Marik sat forward, wiping his hand on the sheets. He'd wash them later. He landed face first next to Ryou, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure if Ryou was asleep yet, but he didn't care. He was going to sleep here tonight.

Marik cracked his eyes open again, his eyes scrolling over Ryou's now gentle and calm face. His breathing had slowed, and he looked comfy cuddled up in his arms. Marik smile and reached out a hand, pushing back his white hair and giving the boy an admiring once-over. He pushed away and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling for only a moment before closing his eyes and falling back asleep.

- - -

"Marik, I'm home," Ryou called as he pushed through the door. But he didn't hear the television like he usually did. He could even smell... Macaroni and cheese. He lifted his head as he carelessly kicked off his shoes and turned into the kitchen. Marik was inside, staring down at the pot with a sincere smile and a determined reflection in his violet eyes.

"Welcome back," he greeted politely, turning to Ryou with his hands on his hips. Ryou was a bit confused, to say the least. This wasn't his usual salutation. Did last night really make that large of a difference? He stepped completely inside and headed to the stove, looking through to the contents of the pot.

"Looks yummy," Ryou admitted, tempted to tug out a noodle with his finger. He held back and shot Marik a grin. "Does this mean you're going to cook from now on?"

"As if!" Marik refuted, shoving Ryou away. "This is a one-time deal! Cooking is your job!" He fumed, his cheeks scratched with a blush.

"And what exactly is your job?" Ryou fought back, smiling gently with mocking eyes. Before he could even bask in his joke, he was against the wall, Marik's lips and tongue at his neck.

"Keeping you and Bakura satisfied. It's a full time job that should never be taken lightly."

And then, Ryou woke up in bed, sore and stiff. His eyes fell. That was his time. He pushed up on his arms and grumbled, balancing on one forearm and pushing back his hair.

"Ryou, come for supper already!" Marik shouted from the kitchen. Ryou growled a bit and forced himself up, his hips aching. He retrieved his clothes and headed for the bathroom to wash his hands. Once he got into the kitchen, Marik was leaning back in his chair, his feet up.

"Get your feet down," Ryou scolded, taking his own seat. He closed his eyes in annoyance and picked up his fork. "Let it be a good meal."

"Let it be a good meal!" Marik shouted back, shoving his fork into his chicken. "And Ryou, don't worry about this afternoon," he started through his food, closing his eyes. He grinned as he reopened them, a heavy desire in his eyes. "Bakura says you can have the night shift."

Ryou's face heated and he choked slightly on his macaroni. He took in a breath and coughed into his hand, trying to seem classy through his sudden thoughts and desires. "Sounds fair," he sputtered, slipping his fork under the cheesy pile again.

"It'd better be," Marik informed him, chewing obnoxiously, "because it's the only deal you're getting." Ryou smirked and shook his head. Yeah, that sounded fair. He was tired after work anyway.