This is the result of FMAlcheholic's request after she won the contest I posted at the end of Metaphysical Salvos' chapter three. There's even a new contest for all brave souls willing to try at it proposed at the end of this fic.

HAPPY RYO BAKURA'S BIRTHDAY EVERYONE! Poor boy doesn't ever get enough love. Alas, the one-shot Deathshipping and one-shot Angstshipping stories would have been just too hard to get out today, so I wrote the thiefshipping one because it's CLOSE ENOUGH! Dx Hope you like it.

"Are you ready?" a man with dark mocha skin and platinum hair asked. His violet eyes stared questionably at his albino companion as he snuggled onto his side of their large couch.

The pale man scowled and nodded. "I am, but I bet you forgot the damn popcorn, didn't you?" The other man did not answer and just shrugged. "Really? Darn your lack of intelligence. How hard is it to remember the popcorn? Whatever. Just play the movie, Marik."

"Hey! I think it's at least in the microwave already. No need to insult me, Bakura! That stuff is horrible for your figure, though. I cannot believe you still stay so fit." Marik retorted too snug in his sheets to get up for the popcorn; he rarely ate it anyway.

Bakura, of course, did not hear his Egyptian friend's reply for he already went to make the popcorn. When he looked in the microwave, he saw that Marik forgot to even take off the plastic wrapper. With an annoyed huff, Bakura threw away the worthless bag and prepared a new one. The grouchy albino could more-or-less hear the movie start from the family room and repressed the urge to both sigh and chuckle.

Marik had continuously questioned Bakura why he never wanted to watch the Notebook after it left theaters, and just rent it. The clever thief said that he would never legally pay to for a movie unless he could scare tons of emotional girls out of the entire theater. Marik figured it was some of thief pride and made no attempts to watch it for his own purposes. Truthfully, the idea of technology and films being able to record people and events still babbled the deprived Egyptian. When something involved special effects, Marik's eyes would nearly jump from his head and he would beg Bakura to explain how a bomb could drop in "New York City," yet the real city would still be untouched.

Bakura had finally loaded an actually nice copy of The Notebook from online. Though it took some convincing, Bakura managed for Marik to agree to watch it with him because it was a rather "safe" movie. Marik teased Bakura about his supposed wanting to watch such a romantic and feminine movie, but the pale man knew his partner well enough to know that the Egyptian was the one who actually loved romance. Bakura had no actual interest in watching The Notebook

The other had been so deprived of love and happiness, the thief figured seeing other people feeling emotion that is not hate and anguish gave him hope for his own life. Bakura sometimes wondered why he bothered with such an emotionally damaged person when he knew he could never give Marik the support he needed, but Bakura could not leave. Marik never asked for love, so Bakura never really gave it. Marik just never expected something as sappy as that from anyone, especially for himself. While the thief would openly say he was nothing short of an asshole and bastard, he partially wanted to at least a little companionship for the folder nights without so many emotional commitments.

The popcorn pops slowed to the proper pace of one pop per second. Bakura smelled the buttery scent spread in the air when he opened up the microwave and dump the bag in a large bowl. The bag burned to touch, but the thief knew how to handle heat long ago. He walked into the family room and saw that the movie credits only just began.

Quickly Bakura settled into his side of the couch with a large pillow behind him and a single black sheet covering his body. Juxtaposed to his simple style was Marik with pillows and blankets all over, even a plush toy resembling the Millennium Rod Ryo sewed for him his last birthday. The popcorn settled between their feet in the middle of the couch as they slid their legs slightly into the other's territory. Both were thieves, so crossing someone else's boundaries did not matter to either very much so long as each got to spread their legs a little.

The room was dark save for the faint glow from the TV. The opening scene began in a fairly bright hospital area, and Marik watched the movie with a dull stare. Bakura smirked when the primitive man rolled his eyes at him when the main plot with the notebook unrolled. Regardless of how it opened, Marik lazily reached for some popcorn to munch on as he slowly began to get more and distracted with the movie.

Half way in Marik sat up and leaned over the couch trying to focus as much as he could on the movie. Marik claimed he moved because Bakura kept moving his feet, and Bakura just found it more amusing than annoying. The more captivated Marik was watching the Notebook, the more amused Bakura would be later.

The big cliché ending approached, and Marik all but bawled already. Of course he was a prideful criminal with a back-story more tragic than any romantic movie, but that was part of the emotional affect; Marik wanted so badly for the girl to choose her first love over the money, but it was so hard to figure of whom she would choose. Marik wanted to know that people chose happiness over contentness when push came to shove, so his emotional state was less than stable to say the least. Bakura could barely contain his small fits of laughter, which thankfully Marik was too engrossed into the movie to notice his face-splitting smile.

Only minutes remained of the movie with the characters back at the hospital. Marik leaned in even closer to hopefully finally understand which choice prevailed in the end. At the very last moment, Marik's eyes practically on the basic LCD screen, the sounds of screams filled the room, not all coming from the television.

Bakura obviously laughed heartily as he finally let his emotions go that he tried so hard to repress. Marik's eyes filled with fear and horror as his eyes darted from an intense gore scene and Bakura's cackling. The few remaining popcorns sprayed everywhere after Marik did a lovely to-the-ceiling jump.

On screen, instead of a sweetly confused looking old lady and her husband, crazed tribal looking people massacred a group of white foreigners. The scene suddenly jumped to a new part where people are desecrating a defenseless turtle, and then jumped to another scene of a tribal girl getting gang-raped and brutalized.

After the initial shock Marik refused to scream again, but he coward slightly as the horrific images came in chopped-up pieces of gore and pain. Bakura calmed his laughter to actually admire his handiwork of video editing, a genuine smile on his face while a bit of actual cannibalism. Only when he glanced at Marik almost crying did Bakura feel a pang of guilt.

"H-hey, Marik. Lighten up, it's just a bloody movie. You should be beyond this sort of childish attempt for horror," the pale man tried to sooth to no avail.

Unexpectedly Marik stood up and slapped Bakura hard across his face, expression livid and full of malice. "I fucking hate you, asshole!" Marik screamed slapping Bakura again on the stomach, though not as roughly as his first hit.

Bakura coughed after Marik knocked the air out of him, but he miraculously managed to refrain hitting back. "Are you off your rocker?!" he exclaimed.

"You are . . . ! I-I can't believe you!" Marik barely got out between a few hits and sobs.

Bakura knew he screwed up, but pride told him not to apologize. Marik should have known better, and it was not like it was a big deal. So he spoiled an ending that did not actually explain who was chosen for ICannibal Holocaust/I? Surely Marik understood that all of it was just worthless fiction anyway.

Bakura looked into Marik's tearing violet irises to know that that was not the case.

Marik looked weak and pathetic in sadness, yet strangely intimidating and mesmerizing in fury. The Egyptian sat in the far edge of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, a leg over one knee, and turned facing away from Bakura. Bakura tugged at a tan, gold-adorned arm to indicate for the other to look at him and growled when nothing happened.

"You are just going to stay like they all night?"

" … "

"Want to explain why you're so bloody mad?"

" … "

"Want a slap in the face as payback for needlessly assaulting me before?" Bakura half yelled yanking the other to lay on the sofa while he towered above.

Marik glared at the man on him before he roughly kneed him off and to the floor. Deciding that he was not finished, Marik fumbled down, too, so to reverse the positions. "Once again, you're an asshole," he seethed rather calmly.

"Marik," Bakura growled as calmly as he could, "get off now. It isn't a big deal. Get over it."

"No," came the simple retort with Marik sitting more firmly on Bakura

"What?! Marik, get off now!"

"No way! You need to apologize. Y-you ruined it. . . ." he trailed off sadly.

Bakura rolled his eyes and gave up struggling temporarily. "I didn't ruin a damn thing. Get off."

"Apologize! You have any idea how fucking horrible that was, you asshole!?"

"I won't apologize for shit. It was just a movie!"

"No! I want to know! I want to know which man it was, but instead I got blood and violence and pain and suffering. I am Itired/I of seeing people suffer all the time! I wanted to know if she chose love or money. I-I wanted. . . ." Marik would not cry, of course he would not, but Bakura knew that if the man had any less pride then more than a few tears would be shed. Marik would not cry over pain and love from some movies, but it still affected him.

Bakura knew it was out of character for him, but he wrapped his arms around Marik's waist and let the boy lay on his body until he calmed. Bakura rubbed small circles over the smooth satin pajamas Marik wore to help ease the man. When Marik seemed to appreciate the small and rare act of kindness, Bakura finally spoke again. "The movie never says."

"What?" Marik asked looking into the eyes of his companion warily.

"The Notebook. It never says who the man is. No one knows for sure who she picked. It's up to you to decide," he said calmly, hoping that would satisfy his blond lover.

"That-that isn't fair! How am I supposed to know? I never understand how female minds work!" Marik exclaimed in aggravation.

"Well, she was rather frivolous with her emotions and not entirely rational. She clearly cared a bit about the comfort of her fiancée, not to mention women in general are rather shallow. In all she probably," Bakura paused a moment to gaze into Marik's sad and hopeful eyes before continuing, "The broad probably chose love. I mean, she's a woman. Women are too dumb to realize they could just have the money and an affair."

"Oh," Marik said quietly, a fragile smile forming on his beautiful face, "I'm happy for her. One day, I hope she remembers both of them." Marik held Bakura close and nuzzled into the albino's soft white locks. "What would you choose?"

"Me?" Bakura asked scared of the surely trick question."I would choose whatever I wanted. I've been deprived of wealth and companionship for millennia, I think I deserve to have both by now. How about you? Would you choose me for love or, I don't know, Ryo for emotional support?"

Marik scoffed and laughed at the mere idea suggested. "I'd choose you every time. You can comfort and support me in your way. I know you don't notice it, but you're a softy when it comes to me. I mean, how many shitty plans did I come up with that you followed? You're all I need."

"Bah. You're an idiot, but you're body makes it worth it," Bakura noted rubbing a hand a bit lower down Marik's back.

"You say that, but it's not just my body, and you know it." Marik smiled a little more and kissed Bakura sweetly on the lips. "We're no romantic love story, but I like this life with you more than whatever a movie fantasizes."

Bakura kissed Marik back not quite as sweetly, and pulled away with a smirk. "Not even Cannibal Holocaust?"

Honestly, I've never seen either the Notebook or Cannibal Holocaust, but I did research about them. ^.^;

REVIEWS ARE LOVED.

Also, I have a new challenge for anyone willing to participate. The goal is to actually write ME a story. The theme is make me feel emotion. Bring me to tears, laughter, anger, whatever. Just make me like it so much I feel something other than indifference all the time. GOOD LUCK, FRIENDS! The contests ends May 1st, or so I believe. Winner gets a one-shot or whatever they want.